#I am being so for real right now. the google doc is out.

[ohyoufool]

I was a professional athlete. TELL ME TO WRITE AN AU OUT OF IT.

[greensun]

THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

[butch-reidentified]

ima go ahead n answer both these at once if that's good w yall.

here's the referenced post for anyone who missed it.

I've posted a LOT about adoption before. feel free to search #adoption, #ethical adoption, #adoptee or #adopted, etc in my tags for those posts. if you can't find them bc Tumblr is shit at searching lmk and I will try to dig em up. I have a Google doc of organized/categorized Tumblr links because of the search function being such a joke

anyway that said. what I meant is that it is sooo obvious to most adoptees from a young age that it's a consumer industry and we are a product for sale. most of us who always knew we were adopted have that horrifying realization very very young, far too young to know how to deal with it. yes I am glad when other people figure this out too but it's a bit irritating for non adoptees to act like this is some mystical wisdom they alone could've uncovered when it's part of the trauma inherent to adoption to realize you were purchased 🤷

I'm not against adoption like some adoptees are, but I could write ESSAYS on my criticisms of the industry and how it SHOULD work. in fact, I have written essay length posts about it in the tags listed above. but ultimately nobody gives a fuck & NOBODY of any political orientation wants to hear that adoption perhaps isn't the utterly selfless flawless silver bullet solution to unwanted kids that everyone treats it as. yet statistically we KNOW most adoptees are extremely damaged by it, the research is there but nobody talks about it. nobody likes you if you talk about it. the walls go up real quick.

one of my favorite things is how adoption seems to be the ONE area that absolutely nobody respects lived material experience about. even loads of leftists/radfems who are always going on and on about the importance of listening to people's real, lived experiences will aggressively talk over us adoptees if we dare have the audacity to critique adoption/the adoption industry or acknowledge that it's fuckin traumatic even for an infant being yanked away from the only stimuli you knew for 9 months and put somewhere where you can't recognize yourself in anyone or anything for the next 18+ years. and that's best case scenario! scenario where they don't abuse you or spend your childhood guilt tripping you because they oh so selflessly took you in when nobody wanted you and now look how difficult you are, crying all the time n shit... just as 1 common experience I know many share from my own life and talking to other adoptees.

but nearly every time we try to talk about this, even if it has nothing to do with criticizing the adoption industry and we are JUST tryna get painful shit off our chest, some non adoptee or 8 is/are gonna jump down our throat (and often even say all the same shit our parents guilted us with as kids lmao)

it's also 1000% a feminist issue bc SO many mothers are forced into adopting out a kid they wanna keep, or adoption being available is used to justify forcing women to give birth instead of aborting an unwanted pregnancy when those women would otherwise choose the latter. not to mention the designer baby shit & the preference for white male babies... and the fact that it's human beings being literally sold as a good. Just because it's legal and isn't outright sex slavery or "forced labor" (tho adopted kids are so often viciously abused and often in those exact ways) doesn't make it right to buy or sell a human being, doesn't make it not human trafficking. & I say this as an adoptee who was ALSO trafficked as a teenager.

[azuremist]

Alterhumanity and Autism (Script)

During my panel at this year's Othercon, I said that I would publicly post my panel's script, and my survey's results onto my tumblr, for easy archival purposes! (There is no way to submit Google Docs to archive.org that I'm aware of...)

This is the panel's script! What I said before the QnA part of the panel. Once the panel recording is uploaded, I'll reblog with the link to it, as well! The results for the survey will also be posted to this account shortly.

Here is the blurb that I originally wrote for the panel, on the schedule:

"This panel aims to explore the relationship between autism and alterhumanity, by looking at the history, the modern autistic community and what real alterhumans have to say on the topic. Why it is that neurodivergency is seemingly so common in the alterhuman community? Is it correlation, causation, or perhaps something in between?"

And, below is the script itself!

Hi, everyone! I am so excited to be speaking at Othercon this year and I hope everyone else is enjoying the 'con so far. My name is Azure! You may also call me Bede, as I answer to both. I like he/him, she/her and bun/buns pronouns, and I am a multitude of things! I am a demon (a fallen angel if you wanna get technical), and my main fictotype is, you'll never guess who based off my names, Bede from Pokemon. Shoutout to any Pokemonkin listening. I've been active in the alterhuman community for around 5 years now, and was the head and sole mod of ‘From Fictionkind’, which is a zine released in 2022, aiming to explore the experiences of those who have a fiction-based identity. If you are interested, you can download it here. (Send link)

I am a grab bag of disorders and disabilities, most of which I won't list, but what is relevant to this panel is that I am, in fact, autistic. Not only that, but I have done, by all metrics, way too much research into autism, and I am an autistic activist!

To preface: although this panel is going to specifically namedrop and talk about autism a lot, I am sure that a lot of different beings can relate to what I am going to talk about today. Not just other neurodivergencies and disabilities, either. Much of what I am going to be talking about today could resonate with any oppressed being's experiences. I welcome all discussion about the similarities of different experiences with open arms!

But, for the sake of transparency, I am not very good at talking off the cuff. So I am going to spend the bulk of this panel reading from a pre-prepared script. If anyone is interested in a transcript, it is available on Google Docs for viewing! I will send it in the panel chat right now, so that anyone who needs to may read along, for word-processing purposes. (Send link) This also means that I am not going to be looking at the chat a whole lot, so if there's something you'd particularly like for me to see, I encourage you to hold it until the end so that I can be sure to see it and give it the thought and recognition that it deserves. All this being said, I still will be looking at the chat occasionally.

To prepare for this panel, I took a survey polling autistic alterhumans, which was taking responses from March 7th to July 1st, so around 4 months. I was hoping for about maybe 90 participants, but that number was blown out of the water with over 500 responses!! I will be going over those results later on in the panel, and will also be referencing the anonymous freeform responses.

The very last point of my preamble here is to warn that this panel may not be suitable for all audiences. This lecture contains extended discussion of ableism, and, while I try to keep the mentions brief, there will be specific talk of disabled folks, including children, being hurt. If you're unable to handle that at this time, that is absolutely fine. Take care of yourself and have a great con!

This panel aims to explore the relationship between autism and alterhumanity, by looking at the history, the modern autistic community and what real alterhumans have to say on the topic. I hope to, perhaps not explain, but look into why it is that neurodivergency is seemingly so common in the alterhuman community, and whether it's because of correlation, causation, or perhaps something in between.

Now, let's start off with a question and feel free to try and guess: What do fairies, aliens, and crystals all have in common? Do we have any guesses?

The correct answer is that all 3 of these things have been used to try and claim autistic children are nonhuman!

Let's get into the specifics, starting from the top with fairies.

The changeling is a form of fairy found in European folklore. Also referred to as an "oaf" historically, a changeling is a fairy that is left in the place of an identical human child, when they are stolen away by other fairies. This is to say, parents believed that their human child was being replaced by an identical fairy child. There were multiple tricks that were thought to fend this off. When you believe you already have a changeling, though... There were less ways to go about that. Historical records and tales about changelings unfortunately imply that the solution chosen for a changeling child was often times infanticide.

Many modern psychologists now believe that most tales of changelings developed in an attempt to explain disabled children. This includes, but is not limited to, deformities, Down syndrome, Williams syndrome, cerebral palsy, and, of course, autism. The fact that boys are more often born with birth defects lines up with the touted belief that boys were more likely to be taken by fairies.

Furthermore, see "regressive autism". This so-called phenomena occurs when a child appears to develop, quote-unquote, "normally", until they start showing symptoms of autism in their later years. Now, what actually happens in these cases is that they never noticed their child's autistic traits until those later years. But the fact that there is still a name for this sudden perceived shift in an autistic child shows the sheer amount of cases there are like this, even today. Now, imagine how bad it was hundreds of years ago, before we even had a word for autism. This "sudden shift" perspective very much parallels the supposed markings of your child being replaced by a changeling.

Second verse, same as the first: aliens. Although the term "starseed" has been picked up in the alterhuman community as a way to describe one's self as an alien, "starseeds", or "star children", didn't originate in the alterhuman community. Their existence is a theory put forth by Brad Seiger in his 1976 book, titled "Gods of Aquarius". It posits that some humans originated as extraterrestrials, and arrived on Earth through either birth or by taking over an existent human body.

Generally agreed-upon signs that you or someone you love is a starseed, according to believers, include that person feeling like they don't belong, being hyperempathetic (which is a sign of autism, despite what the stereotypes would have you believe), introversion, and... Actually, I'm going to quote this in its entirety. In "What Is A Starseed & 50 Clear Signs You Are One", published by The Spirit Nomad, the first listed sign is, quote, "You are highly sensitive. You easily feel overwhelmed and drained when you are in a place with many people and with intense stimuli – like shopping malls, clubs, and networking events. You might also be sensitive to stimulants like coffee, alcohol and even dark chocolate." Endquote.

You think I'm joking about these things just listing autism symptoms. I'm not!

Finally... Crystals. Crystal children and indigo children are both believed to be sort of the next step in scientific evolution, according to New Age circles. More specifically, crystal children are the newest generation, while indigo children were the first wave, from around the 70s to the 90s. I'll just be calling both of these 'waves' crystal children for the sake of simplicity, but know that they are just two waves of the same thing. Crystal children are believed to possess special or supernatural abilities, such as telepathy. Autistic children having telepathy, as we all know, is the plot of Mob Psycho 100.

Signs that your child is a crystal child include high empathy, being perceived as 'strange' by others or intelligent for their age (see the autistic gifted kid phenomenon), and being sensitive to the point of fussing in crowded spaces. It's also said that crystal children may struggle in socially conventional schools, because of their dislike of rigid authority, being smarter than their teachers, and their lack of response to guilt, fear, or manipulation-based discipline. (Read: indirect communication.)

It is actually a noted phenomenon that many parents, when confronted with a diagnosis like a learning disability, ADHD, or autism, will alternatively label their child as a crystal child. Autism researcher Mitzi Waltz noted this phenomenon, and spoke about it in a 2009 issue of The Journal of Religion, Disability & Health. He suggests that parents recategorize autistic symptoms as telepathic powers to attempt to reconceptualize these autistic traits as a part of a more conventionally positive identity. He also puts into words why this can be harmful, stating that parents could refuse to acknowledge their child's impairments, refuse accommodations, and, quote, "transmit belief systems to the child that are self-aggrandizing, confusing, or potentially frightening." Endquote.

Believe it or not, there are actually MORE examples of myths or conspiracy theories that attempt to explain autistic children as nonhuman. But, I will leave it at those three.

Let's take a brief look into modern media now. Specifically, the "autistic-coded robot" trope. A lot of times, when humans try to write robots, or AI or such, they think that they can just take all essential things that make humanity what it is, and take away a few things. Make them not express empathy, they don't get nonliteral phrases, they obviously speak in monotone. We could sprinkle in a little bit of feeling out of place with humanity for flavor aaaand it's autistic. Your robot is autistic. To name some examples of this trope, think Data from Star Trek, or Zane from Ninjago.

This trope is more or less echoed, beat for beat, with the autistic-coded alien trope. Examples of this flavor of the trope include Peridot from Steven Universe, Spock from Star Trek, or, and I'm sorry for anyone who I'm about to violently throw back into 2016 with this, Keith from Voltron.

Because nonhumanity is so often linked to autistic beings by the culture around us, desiring to be nonhuman or connecting with nonhumanity is now a recognized part of autistic culture. We often feel out of place in neurotypical society. Join autistic spaces, and you’ll see jokes like, “What kind of nonhuman did you think you were as a kid?” (In case you’re wondering, the answer is werewolf for me.) Growing up thinking that the reason behind your autistic traits is because you are secretly nonhuman is a common experience. Jokes about desiring a tail and to purr often go viral within autistic spaces, because they are forms of natural and nonverbal communication that shows those around us that we are happy. The topic of nonhumanity within autistic culture is also talked about within professional settings, such as in Kim Duff’s speech, “The Role of Changeling Lore in Autistic Culture”, at the 1999 Autreat conference of Autism Network International.

There is also discussion of how autistic beings oftentimes connect with animals better than with humans. For example, Temple Grandin is an autistic animal behavioralist who has written extensively on how her being autistic helps her understand how animals feel. For example, she speaks in 2004’s, “Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior”, and in 1997’s “Thinking the Way Animals Do: Unique Insights from a Person with a Singular Understanding”.

In more modern times, we have the 2022 article, “How Autism Connects Me With Animals”, in which Emily Moran Barwick, writes, quote, “I knew how profoundly frustrating, isolating and demoralizing it was to be unable to convey what I wanted to convey. I knew how it felt to never be truly understood. And it broke my heart thinking of what non-human animals were experiencing at the hands of humans; that no matter how desperately and clearly they communicated their terror and pain, they were ignored and discounted.” Endquote.

All of these connections have led to the creation of subcultures created in an attempt to reclaim the dehumanization put onto us. To name one example, voidpunk is a subculture created by tumblr user arotaro in the 2010s, and more or less hinges on this idea. Key points of this subculture include the rejection of the norm, embracing nonhumanity, and comfort in the unknown. In the words of it’s creator, quote, “It’s not the same as otherkin because it’s not really like, “Ah yes, I am a cat/dragon/wolf/that one guy from Homestuck/etc.”, it’s not necessarily something specific, and it’s not necessarily literally believing you’re something other than human. It’s, well, punk. Society puts out a lot of messages about What It Means To Be Human (trademark) that can make a lot of people who don’t completely fit the bill feel lost, broken, alone, or like they’re doing something wrong; Voidpunk is about taking that message of “you’re not human”, making it your own, and throwing it back in society’s face. You say I’m not human? Sure, ok. That’s chill. Why does being Human (trademark) have to be a goal to aspire to anyway? What’s so great about humanity?” Endquote. She then goes on to specifically namedrop neurodivergents as one of the target audiences for the subculture, as well. She also later answers an ask to clarify, quote, “Someone who doesn’t face dehumanization cannot be voidpunk.” Endquote.

So, where does all of this information intersect with the notable number of autistic alterhumans? Well, that’s just the question, isn’t it? Is it possible that alterhuman identity may correlate with those who have identities and neurotypes which are demonized by society? After all, queer beings are common within alterhuman spaces, too. And, if there is a correlation, is there causation there, as well? There are already some terms coined to describe when alterhuman identity is caused or influenced by autistic traits; such as ‘otherspin’, a term for when one’s alterhuman identity is caused / influenced by special interests. Furthermore, ‘altervexo’ attempts to describe identifying as alterhuman out of spite for the dehumanization one has faced. However, to my knowledge, no term has been made or extensive talks had about, voluntary or nonvoluntary, alterhuman identity, as possibly having origins within dehumanization.

So, I set out to have that conversation. As stated at the start of this panel, I ran a survey, mostly promoted on tumblr, from March 7th to July 1st, posing questions to the autistic alterhuman community about their personal experiences, which got over 500 responses! 537, to be exact. I’d like to share the results of this survey with you now. The raw data collected is available here. (Send link) I will also be posting both the raw data, and the script for this panel, to my tumblr, @azuremist, but that’s mostly for easy archival purposes. Now, it’s NUMBERS TIME, baby!

I asked everyone to indicate if they agreed or disagreed with the statements I made. For the statement, “I believe that my autism has influenced my alterhumanity in some way, shape, or form,” 92% of those who took my survey agreed, and 8% disagreed, which is a WILD split. Far beyond notable.

For the statement, “I feel like the way that autistic beings are seen by society has influenced my alterhumanity”, the split is a bit more even, with 72.4% agreeing, and 27.6% disagreeing.

This means that, of those who I polled who agreed that autism influenced their alterhumanity, 78.6% (rounding down) also agreed that the way autistic beings are viewed in society influenced their alterhumanity. This is a rate a bit over 3 in every 4.

This next question is one of the things that I asked more out of personal curiosity, which is, whether or not they feel more safe to be openly autistic in alterhuman spaces, when compared to other community spaces. Of those polled, 89.4% agreed, and 10.6% disagreed, which makes me quite happy! One anonymous being commented, quote, “I generally find that most alterhuman spaces are a lot more accepting of autistic beings than wider society if that makes sense? Going into an alterhuman space, I'm never concerned that it may not be safe or accessible for me.” Endquote. Someone else wrote in that they could testify to the opposite being true, as well; autistic spaces, in their experience, had a higher likelihood of being accepting of alterhuman identities. However, one being who answered ‘no’ to this question stated that they avoid alterhuman spaces for things related to this subject. They list as an example, quote, “Like the refusal of tone tags? I understand not wanting them to be used for you but banning them from the space all together? And also a lot of spaces, despite being accepting of autistic beings, still find a way to hate those beings for being autistic.” Making community spaces safe for autistic beings is an ongoing learning process for everyone involved. So please make sure to consult your local autistic advocate to make sure everything is accessible for those of all neurotypes.

For the next questions, I asked about everyone’s specific experience with alterhumanity. Another question that I asked, mostly out of curiosity, is, “Would you consider alterhumanity, as a subject, a special interest?” 64.8% of respondents answered ‘no’, and 35.2% answered ‘yes’.

The next question, though, is really quite interesting to me. It asks, “If you have any kintypes which originate from a piece of media: Would you consider that kintype's source material a special interest?” 69% of respondents (nice) answered ‘yes’, and 31% answered ‘no’. That’s a pretty close percentage to the question about alterhumanity as a special interest, but with the answers flipped. Indeed, many times in the section where I invite others to talk about their experience, there are respondents specifically namedropping that they believe their special interests contribute to their alterhumanity. Some, but not all, of these instances include a space conceptkin who has space as a special interest, two catkin, with one having Warrior Cats as a past special interest, and the other, cats in general as one, and someone who specifically wrote, quote, “I also feel as though my special interests in some medias have influenced the fact that I identify with both real and fictional species. For example, I have a large number of original characters who are demons and I feel like my special interest in them may have led me down the path of discovering myself as demonkin.” When discussing the subject of autism influencing alterhumanity, special interests were easily the thing that came up the most, other than how autistic beings are seen by neurotypical society.

The final multiple choice question I had asked, “If you have a nonhuman kintype of any kind: Do you experience species dysphoria and/or euphoria?” To this, 85.9% answered ‘yes’, and 14.1% answered ‘no’.

We can compare this to a survey not aimed at autistic alterhumans; specifically, the ‘Alterhumanity and Gender Survey’, as conducted by Eli, at pantomorph on tumblr. These results were posted on July 22nd of 2019, and reported that, in response to the question, “Do you experience species dysphoria?”, 4.9% answered ‘I used to,’ 8.9% answered ‘unsure’, 22.7% answered ‘no’, 36% answered ‘sometimes’ and 27.6% answered ‘yes’. Adding up the percentages of ‘I used to’, ‘sometimes’ and ‘yes’, we get 68.5% of respondents who are certain that they have, at some point, experienced species dysphoria.

This means that, according to these surveys, autistic alterhumans appear to have a higher chance of experiencing species dysphoria, with a 17.5% difference. Though, keep in mind, I included euphoria in my question, and Eli did not. This would certainly require more data to confirm, however, this at least would warrant further polling, in my opinion.

All of this talk about autistic beings and species dysphoria may have you thinking about the fact that autistic beings are statistically more likely to identify as transgender, with some estimates stating that transgender individuals are up to 6 times more likely to be autistic than cisgender individuals! This is because gender is stupid, and autistic folks are not. Multiple respondents to the survey brought this point up. One being specifically wrote in, quote, “Statistically, autistic folks are more likely to know they're trans than allistics, and I support the theory that that's got something to do with autistic beings seeing things without the lens of social cues and societal pressures, including more awareness of who we are and how we see ourselves. … Society is like, "You should be like this," and autistics are like, "But why? It doesn't really make sense, plus I don't fit in to those standards anyway, so why not choose my own path in life?"” Endquote. I definitely agree that the reason so many autistic folks identify as transgender may be similar to, or the same, reason that autistic folks seem to be more likely to be alterhuman.

Hello to all trans autistic alterhumans listening! Call that a triple threat.

Now, the final question that I asked. I listed multiple different alterhuman identities, and asked everyone to indicate which, if any, of the provided labels that they identify with. And, indeed, my hypothesis when going into this question was proven correct. Of the terms that I provided, it was “nonhuman” that most autistic alterhumans identified with specifically, with 74.9% of respondents identifying as nonhuman. Other popular answers to this question included ‘therian’, with 57.5%, and fictionkin with a nonhuman fictional character. Indeed, I did put two separate options for fictionkin, where they could indicate if their fictional kintype was human or not. 45.1% of respondents had a nonhuman fictotype, and 41.2% of respondents had a human fictotype. So, autistic fictionkin appear to have around a 9% (rounding down) higher likelihood to identify with nonhuman fictional characters. Unfortunately, I could not find another survey to compare this statistic against, but it is a statistic we have now, nonetheless.

Furthermore, I specifically listed 3 common kintypes that have been associated with autistic beings, as previously discussed: fairies, aliens, and robots / technology. Of these, techkin was easily the most popular, with 19.9% of respondents identifying as such. Alienkin and fairykin were close in numbers, with 11.2% identifying as alienkin, and 11.9% identifying as fairykin. On the subject of being robotkin, one being wrote, quote, “I do not on a literal, physical level believe I’m a robot, however, tropes related to robots and the way they behave and are treated feel analogous to my own lived experiences, so in some ways it feels as though I experience my life as a robot would.” Endquote.

Which segways nicely into the final question, which is the filled in responses. For this question, I prompted, “If you have anything you'd like to add, please tell me about your experiences involving your alterhumanity and autism.”

Many took the chance to speak on if they felt like their autism and alterhumanity were connected. As previously mentioned, lots of folks mentioned special interests as a factor. Lots of folks also said that they felt the two were connected, but couldn’t explain how, with a common sentiment being that it is a ‘chicken or the egg’ situation. Two different beings whose kintypes are their past lives wrote in, and both said that a hypothetical allistic version of them wouldn’t be able to get memories as easily. Multiple beings also wrote that they felt like the awakening process was made easier due to their autism. They were so used to seeing themselves as different from everybody else, and not understanding social cues, that they were more willing to take on, quote-unquote, “weird” solutions as the source of their feelings. Other commonly-mentioned points include dehumanization as a reason for alterhumanity, autistic traits being seen as similar to animalistic traits, and the possibly-related high rate of autistic pagans and witches.

Something that I didn’t expect going in, but perhaps should have, is the amount of autistic alterbeings who wrote about their struggle to find words to describe themselves. One ghostkin wrote they felt like their nonconformity to their kintype’s typical associated traits (like darkness, doom and gloom, et cetera) was due to their autism, but that they felt they didn’t belong with other ghostkin because of it. And a LOT of folks wrote in saying that they had a lot of trouble figuring out what terminology to use, especially regarding the ever-dreaded ‘identify with’ or ‘identify as’ question. One being wrote in that they see themself as psychological otherkin, but would be more accurately described as having a neurotype-based, or neurology-based, origin, due to their autism. However, this has caused some issues, as it is not seen as a, quote-unquote, ‘valid’ origin. Someone else describes having issues with this because the community does a lot of gatekeeping, and because it is easier to find beings complaining about words being misused than the actual use of words.

Now, there are some responses that I would like to read in full, or mostly in full, for your listening pleasure.

The first one is as follows. Quote. “When I was 6-ish, I started noticing that people treated me a bit like they treated our old Windows ‘98 Dell computer. The computer was inhuman when it worked (and praised for its distance from humanity! “Yes, it can play videos from the internet! Isn’t technology cool?”) and human when it broke down (“He’s getting overwhelmed, give us a sec.” “She’s blinking at me. I have no idea why this is such a difficult task.” “It ate my fucking CD. Stubborn POS.”). It’s a bit frustrating that my autistic traits are only praised when they make me convenient for others to use... I’m self-sufficient, I’m quiet, I’m a fast learner and a thorough researcher, so I rarely need to bother another person to complete the tasks I’m given. But because that’s all anyone ever seems to want me for... It’s a self-fulfilling cycle which is useful for the neurotypicals but exhausting for me, and when it ends in a burnout (inevitable) then I’m finally treated as human, but only because I’ve failed to be the computer they wanted. So I’m a computer when someone’s pleased with me, and I’m human when I’ve disappointed them. You can see why I might like the idea of being a PC more than a person. Also, when something’s wrong, computers’ error messages are both clearer and harder to ignore than a human’s requests for accommodation. This is a bit of a bummer, sorry. The upside is that I’m crazy good at data analysis now.” Endquote. This was excellently put, and I’m sure something that may resonate with autistic techkin.

Another write-in reads, quote, “One does not have to be autistic to be alterhuman or nonhuman, but one does have to be autistic to be my species. My species does not have human neurology, or allistic neurology. To be my species one must be autistic… though it’s more that my species has neurology which allistics will refer to as autism. I could not be my species if I wasn’t autistic.” Endquote. This is a very interesting response, and, to be honest, I sort of wish I knew what this being’s species was so that I could look more into it. It’s almost like a sort of alternate view of autistic nonhumans or autistic aliens, which is just lovely.

Then, there is this submission. Quote, “Diagnosed with autism at 15, explained a lot, I can't help but wonder - if I'd known, would I still dehumanize myself in the way I do? Other kids called me "cat boy" because when they would pick on me, I'd hiss at them. I don't know why. I think I just saw my cats do it and it was the only way I knew how to retaliate. But it just made them laugh. ... I stopped seeing myself as human a long time ago, more of an animal for people's amusement. ... But when I found out about otherkin, it was like suddenly this experience of mine I was certain I was alone in was shared. For some people it's spiritual, but even in our differences, our feelings were the same. The community  taught me to love this nonhuman side of me, and they were understanding of my diagnosis. I didn't feel like an outcast there, they made me feel like it was something to cherish, and I do.” Endquote. Again, absolutely very well-said. Reclaiming and celebrating nonhumanity is, from what I’ve gathered, a large part of the autistic alterhuman experience, and this response phrased it just wonderfully.

Lastly, in regards to responses: shoutout to the one guy who said, “I just finished making my first ever tail, isn’t that sick?”, because yes, yes it is.

Thank you so much again to all the respondents to my survey!

And so, we have now reached the discussion section, which will last until my time runs out. This is where I will cease looking at a script, so please send anything you’d particularly like me to see now! Also, feel free to ask me questions, and I will answer to the best of my ability. Alternatively, tell me about your experiences, or just give general comments!

[insane4fandoms]

Only Mack

We do love a sequel

@crazy-obsessed-enby @neons-trash-blog

Also I woke up from my slumber to write this, lmao

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

The downside of having an egotistical, sociopathic, and horny obsessive fictional character turned sentient that is able to control every electronic you own and more, is that it made you realize how great it was being alone.

What a great sentence to start this story, am I right?

Anyways, that statement is true however, since at the wonderful hour of 5 am, you were awoken by a suddenly electric jolt going down your back, making you yelp in pain, sitting up straight out of fear.

“Now Viewer, up and rise for the start of this new day!” You closed your eyes and sucked in some air, preparing yourself for the whole day of shocks and that annoying soothing voice.

“Honestly, I’m sure you would be used to my ‘love touches’, by now,” Mack gave a condescending laugh, as if you would laugh with him. He gave that damn smirk while fake wiping tears.

You gave the phone a glare, turning it over and trudging yourself to the bathroom, the one out place where Mack can’t follow unless you take him (as if you would take him anywhere to where he gets to see you without clothes).

“Just because I can’t see you, doesn’t mean I can’t imagine you~!” You face turned red at Mack’s words, wishing you could just grab the phone and smash it to pieces, but that would be futile to do so considering he’ll come back in another screen.

Computers, phones, tv, headphones, Apple Watch, hell, even your tamagotchi he managed to get into! Not only that, but you’re pretty sure he’s a sadist considering he loves shocking whenever you pet your guard down, and claims it was his ‘love bites’.

You should have destroyed every single electronic the moment he became sentient, yet you allowed his words life you into a trap you know you could never escape now. You reluctantly trudged out of the bathroom and made your way to the computer, looking so fine when he popped up on the screen.

“Morning handsome and/or beautiful. You love it when I say that, right~?” He cooed, making you wish he actually existed so you could punch his irritating, yet charming face.

I mean, he technically does exist in real life, you thought, thinking of Matpat. Is he aware of Matt? And if so, does he get jealous when you watch game and film theories? Would he try and stop you?

“Go on! Write another story about how much you tremble from my words~,” Your ear tips heat up from embarrassment, but merely avoided him and placed the curser to the chrome icon. Google Docs was your favorite place to be.

“How about you write another spicy one~? I know how much you love me like that~,” You merely sighed, feeling embarrassed and began to write. For a while, he was suspiciously quiet, since usually he would comment on your writing, but it was like he wasn’t there at all.

That made you a little uneasy.

That was until you suddenly jumped and pushed your chair away from the computer out of fear when an electric hand shot out of screen quickly. Your chest was rising rapidly in a panic, but soon melted into annoyance when you heard Mack laughing hysterically.

“That never gets old,” He sighed lovingly, enjoying your fearful expression. You gave him a glare, leering at the static hand. But suddenly, something popped inside your head, and you just stared at the retreating hand.

You’re not sure where and why, but you impulsively jumped up from where you sat, and grabbed the hand, shuddering at the static jolt. Mack yelped a little, never feeling your touch before, and it was so sudden too.

“What are you-?!” You cut him off as you suddenly leaned in, and gave him a kiss. You can’t believe it, your first kiss and it’s with a psychotic sentient computer ai sadist. You wished it could have gone differently, yet it was the heat of the moment and you just went for it.

Your lips your numb instantly, it felt like sticking your tongue on a battery, yet you were rough and passionate, only hearing the spluttering of Mack. 5 seconds felt like forever, but you eventually pulled away, letting the hand disappear.

You gave a small smile, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. Maybe his presence awoken something in you, or maybe his actions finally broke you. Either way, you knew that what you did made you both feel a little hot.

He confirmed that when he finally had a dark glint in his eyes, a sinister grin appeared as the screen glitched a little bit. You simply had a innocent smile on your face and gave him a wink.

You know exactly where this might head to.

“Do that again,”

[a-dragons-journal]

I really hate writing posts like this on mobile, but I’m not going to get the chance to write it on desktop for almost a week, so I’m writing this in Google Docs and copying it over and I apologize for any missed formatting errors.

I’m having a real weird time with Frontiers - not bad, necessarily, but weird - and I want to document it to some extent, so here we are. Pretty major game spoilers ahead. Also a quick warning that I am going to get a little mean about trophy hunting; I am aware that on Earth this is a somewhat more nuanced issue (and I really don’t want to get into it tbh), but I am letting myself get emotional here because that’s frankly just not true on Pandora because the situation is different.

This game is giving me a really weird experience, because it’s like… the story is meh until it is not. I’m mostly having a normal time, until I very abruptly am not.

The first round was during the Zeswa clan storyline, when you get into the Lodge. For those who haven’t played or haven’t gotten this far yet, while exploring the Upper Plains and talking with the Zeswa, you learn that the RDA has been poaching animals, hunting and trapping them en masse to ship them or their body parts back to Earth to sell for big bucks, because the people back on Earth will pay massive amounts of money to be able to show off anything Pandoran - often taking whole carcasses, but sometimes just stripping the pieces they can sell and leave the rest to rot. There’s a log from an interrogation wherein they captured a Zeswa and tortured them to try and get them to reveal the location of the graveyard of the zakru, the enormous animals the Zeswa live in symbiosis with, so they can steal the bones and tusks. And when you get into the Lodge, the center of Harding’s poaching operation, there are stuffed animals and animal parts on display as trophies.

I cannot express properly the rage that filled my chest and my throat when I saw that. The outlying camps, with their slaughtered fa’li and aywinzaw in piles, were bad enough. But the Lodge itself, the heads and bodies and bones put on display, animals that were not killed for food or population culls but simply because they could - my throat fills with fire even thinking back on it now. This is not Eywa’s way. This is deeply, deeply wrong.

All right. That’s fine. That’s fine. I can be normal about this. This is a deeper anger than I have gotten out of most media, but it’s fine.

And then there was the second round, during the Kame’tire clan storyline. And let me just say, hoo boy the story very suddenly picks up during the Kame’tire section. There is a segment where you find the place where you and other Sarentu children were held and processed before you were taken to the school the game initially picks up in, where you see what was left behind - cages and shackles the Sarentu were held in, Sarentu toys and clothes and ornaments that were stripped from the children, disinfectant and stark communal showers that were used to strip even their clan’s scent from them. The place is abandoned and empty and hollow, and I… I had to actually take a step back and take a break from it for a minute partway through because I was getting overwhelmed and starting to want to cry, even despite being on call with friends and having them chattering about something unrelated and cheerful in my ear. I felt trapped and frightened and horrified and haunted by memories. And I - look. I am a person that feels a lot with regards to fictional media. I have often said that my emotions are too big for my little body, and fiction is my safe place to feel at 100% capacity where it doesn’t actually have consequences. I am familiar with the emotional impacts fiction can have on me, and they can be big.

I had to actually stop and take a step back and walk away for a couple of minutes and get a snack and engage in an unrelated conversation for a bit to remind myself this was fiction and wasn’t actually happening. I have never had to do that.

And when I escaped that horrible, horrible place and escaped the yavä’ - I came across a Na’vi camp almost immediately and it was horribly jarring, seeing all these people just… living their lives. Talking amongst themselves. Sitting by the fire, sharing food and stories and music. I had to walk back out of the camp and call my ikran just to stroke her head and, in my head at least, hug her and comfort myself for a bit before I could go back in.

And then, after a bit to recover - normal game experience again. Normal level of investment. Normal level of emotional impact.

So… I still don’t think I am Sarentu (or Na’vi of any kind), although the specificity of what hit me that hard makes me pause to wonder for a moment, but hoo boy my alterhumanity related to this world is definitely impacting my emotional experience of this game periodically and it is a wild ride. I am not Na’vi, but being of Eywa, I can live in a Na’vi’s footprints completely enough, at least temporarily, to Know what it is to live this life and walk this path.

That’s the odd thing, about having a hearthome which is so integrally connected that the interconnection is part of the hearthome feelings - I am not Na’vi, but also I know what it is to be Na’vi. I am not ikran, but also I know what it is to be ikran. I am not - you get the idea. I am not, but also I kind of am.

It’s… interesting. And hoo boy it’s a lot in this case. I’ll be fine, but man.

[1-khxna-1]

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧Was it worth it?:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Pearl x gem reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚

words: 611

google docs pages: 2

warning: war

Part: 1/4

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺✧༺♥༻∞

There you were a low-life Tanzanite, fighting in a war you never wanted to be a part of but you got caught in the middle of it. You saw the traitorous rose quartz that shattered her diamond with the diamond’s pearl… and it was fighting with rose quartz!? Maybe she was being brainwashed into fighting. No.. she was smiling. You rushed to the pearl, fighting whoever and whatever got in your way The only thing that was going through your head was why. Why was a pearl here? Why were YOU here? And why was this war happening?! Yet all you could do was try to get to that pearl. While you were in your head you got tackled by that very pearl. Her spear pointed to your gem. “What is a Tanzanite doing down on earth..” Her spear got closer and closer to your gem. “Did a blue diamond send you!? Hm?!” Your throat started to close up and no words were coming out of your mouth, it was true your diamond told you to come down to earth to see how the war was going and it was going and it was going exactly how war was supposed to go BAD! You started to think if your diamond sent you on a mission where she knew you would fail. You got pulled back into the real world then the pearl spoke again. “Speak or you will be poofed like her other soldiers.” “I would rather be shattered than speak to you-” Then your whole world turned back. And then you woke up in a house..? With a black-haired boy looking at you with stars in his eyes. your leg was under a bright light that had started to burn it. ”What is this?! Some sort of weapon?!” you picked it up and threw it at the wall, it shattered as soon as it hit the wall. As soon as you did everyone looked at you. “Are you sure this is the right gem?” the ‘garnet’ started to speak. “Yes yes this is the tanzanite that I bubbled and-” You soon remembered that voice, pink diamond’s pearl. “What year is it, hm? How many years has it been since you bubbled me and trapped me on this plant?!” you started to yell at the group. you stood up and drew your weapon. Sadly for you, they did the same. You soon knew this was not going to go in your favor and that the best option was to play nice. you lowered your weapon and it soon disappeared, now that you looked at each of the gems in the room. A garnet, a pearl, and an amethyst. You also noticed that your form had changed..” So why am I here? Why didn't you keep me bubbled? " Your voice was raspy and worn out, the pearl started to speak” Well we wanted to teach Steven about gem history, and you're just the gem for the job” Her very spear aimed right at you as if she knew you were up to you. Her eyes never left your presence as she spoke.” well isn't doing it.” you say as you crossed your arms, “who said you had a choice?” the pearl said, her words spilling with venom as the garnet pushed her to the side and kneed down to you,” it is your choice and it's been around 5000 years.” your eyes opened wide, 5000 years gone just like that… Did anyone know you were bubbled? Did your diamond look for you? Did anyone look for you?.. That didn't matter right now. What mattered now was you getting back to your homeland.

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 3 🦌

"Restless Nights"

Content: Paranoid whumpee, fear of being SAed, uhhh idk this is mostly setup for the next chapter which will be much more whumpy.

1,100 words

(Not) continuing on with my part-a-day challenge (to the fullest) but I'll try to get a part out on the regular! Congrats, you now know what I'm like as a content creator! Rule of thumb, if I ever say "I'll try to—" or "I will be—" you can count on me to never deliver!

However, in my own defense, I've been working my job a shit ton recently, and am also working on a 12 book series, and also working on the series for Valentine that I'll be posting here, and drawing a lot, so I'm pretty busy, lol. But as always, excuse my writing quality for this mini series, I just shit these out into Google Docs and then copy and paste them here.

With that said, I humbly bring you all part 3! The next part is where the whump is really gonna start coming through, so stay tuned for that (and the eventual off-the-rails plot I thought of at 3 am while trying to sleep)

       Fawn was in a state of shock, and they knew it, too. They didn’t feel very much besides the anxiety that coursed through their veins. They should be frightened, and feel disgusted. They should be crying, and panicking, and trying to find a way out. Yet all they could do was sit up right on the old dirty mattress, hugging their knees to their chest as they stared into the pitch black darkness of Hunter’s basement.

       Eventually they fell back against the mattress, hands over their chest as their heart beat wildly, yet they felt nothing. Not even tired. Sleep was nowhere near on their mind. All they could think about was their own stupidity. How they managed to walk right into a psychopath’s literal trap. Thoughts of the future wavered through their mind, and none of the scenarios were favorable.

       Were they going to be killed? No, Hunter alluded to it, but said they were too pretty, whatever the hell that means. Was that really the only thing keeping them alive? What if they accidentally piss them off? What if they grow bored of them? But… What do they even want with them in the first place? Something nice to look at? A pretty pet? Where they going to be raped? They didn’t even want to consider the thought.

       Fawn couldn’t hear a single sound other than the sound of their own breathing and heartbeat. They couldn't even see their own hands in front of them. There were no windows, no connections to the outside world. It was sensory deprived hell, and as the minutes ticked away they felt like they were going insane.

       They couldn’t take it anymore, and sat up, slowly getting up to stand on their one good foot. They wobbled and felt weak, but once they got their footing they slowly hopped to where they saw the light string. Reaching out blindly in the darkness, they felt it in their hands, and pulled it. A click rang through the air, and the basement was illuminated, albeit dimly, but they could at least see.

       The basement was full of all kinds of clutter, like tools, weapons, boxes, taxidermied animals, bones, fur rugs, and mounted animal heads. There were a bunch of spiders, cobwebs, and cockroaches scurrying around. Good thing they weren't afraid of bugs. At least they had some company.

       The mattress was torn and covered in blood and dirt. Lots of dried blood, actually. How many others were here before them? How many others spent their last nights on this same, tattered bed? It all felt too surreal. It couldn't be real. This was a horror movie, or a true crime documentary in the making, and they were the next subject. Why them of all people? Life isn't fair.

They began to carefully and quietly sift through the various things Hunter kept down there. Looking through the boxes, opening drawers, peeking behind furniture. Inside a metal cabinet were multiple folders and papers. The papers being....

       ...Missing posters?

First came confusion, then came the wide eyed terror and the sinking of their heart. In shock their shaking hands dropped the papers, and when they got their bearings, picked them back up, examining them.

       There were some from different places, but most of them came from the same nearby town that Fawn had just moved to. They could recall seeing some of them around town, or in newspaper ads. Even conversations with the locals about how people often go missing... The oldest one of the bunch was ten years ago. The most recent was only from 6 months ago.

       Fawn felt sick to their stomach. Asking how many people were here before them was supposed to just be rhetorical.

       Fawn grabbed a knife that was sitting on one of the tables, and turned out the lights. It was old and rusted, but just having a weapon in their hands at least gave them the illusion of safety. They clutched it tightly in both of their hands, sitting on the mattress. They were restless and anxious, with their wide eyes staring towards the door in darkness. They could hear the floorboards creak above them, and they hoped and prayed Hunter wouldn't come back down the stairs.

       Especially if they thought they were asleep.

       Though much like Fawn, Hunter wasn't able to rest their eyes, either. However, while Fawn's may have been from fear, Hunter was far too excited. They tossed and turned, but all they could think about was their latest victim. When they remembered they had a bag with them that they removed, they jumped out of bed immediately.

       Moonlight was shining through the trees, seeping into the decrepit cabin through cracked and boarded up windows. Hunter went to the kitchen and picked Fawn's bag up off of the floor, curious to rummage through their things.

       It was filled with snacks and water bottles. There was a change of clothes, a pocket knife, a book on plant identification, binoculars, and finally, they hit the jackpot. A phone with no passcode! Just who was their little Fawn, really?

       Their lockscreen was a photo of two cats cuddling, looking like they took it themself at a shelter. Much to Hunter's dismay, it didn't seem like they had any social medias, but they did have lots of things in their gallery!… though they were mostly just photos of animals. They couldn't find a real name or anything that was truly personal.

       It wouldn't matter much even if they did have socials, because there was no signal out here. It wouldn't connect to the internet. Maybe they had something in their calendar?... no, nothing. No birthdays or events, except for some things relating to the Animal shelter. 

       Their phone was so void of anything that it was almost frustrating. Either they didn't use technology much, or they had absolutely nothing going on in their life besides their volunteer work. I mean, they didn't even have a passcode, Hunter was disappointed, to say the least.

      A weak knock coming from the basement door startled them out of their dissatisfaction.

      "Uhh… Hunter?" A meek, muffled voice called.

      "What?"

       "I… have to pee."

      "Okay."

      "I need a bathroom."

       "No you don't. You have a change of clothes right here, you can change in the morning."

       "What?!" Fawn was appalled, "But—"

       "You should be happy you're alive and shut up. Piss on the floor and go to bed."

       "But—"

       "Piss on the floor and go to bed." Hunter repeated, much more stern. It was silent for a moment before quiet thumps could be heard limping down the stairs. Poor injured thing.

       Hunter had a feeling this recent capture was going to be quite an interesting one. They listen well enough, but don't seem to really grasp the situation they've found themself in. It wasn't a worry, that just meant training them was going to be all the more enjoyable.

       Hunter smiled.

       They were going to have fun tomorrow.

[the-mandawhor1an]

The crimelord

Chapter 2 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Pairing: Din Djarin x original female character

Chapter summary: Mando, Maia and the little green gremlin visit one of Mando’s contacts to find other Mandalorians. They get more than they bargained for and once again Maia finds more reasons to prefer the company of the taciturn Mandalorian. Although it almost seems like he’s slowly warming up to his peculiar companion.

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! Canon-typical violence, misogyny (not by Mando), one instance of assault? (not by Mando, he’d never), if you squint real hard there’s a twinge of angst

Words: 2k

A/N: The pace is picking up, peeps! I’m leaning a bit into “men are nasty” over here, so be warned about that. – Yes I am posting this way sooner than planned because I feel a spike in my motivation and it's sitting in my Google Docs anyway 🤷‍♀️

She didn’t know how long it took for her to fall asleep, her damp tunic sticking to her body underneath the cape she had used as a blanket to cover her in the co-pilot seat. Not a smart choice as it meant it was uncomfortably cold. Neither did she know how long she slept in that curled up position until the Razor Crest landed at the next destination with a soft but sensible thud. Her green eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the now not so dark environment. Space was a lot darker than a fully lit landing platform. 

Mando rose from his seat, eyeing the brunette that slowly unraveled from her blanket. He eyed the lightsaber hilts that clunked against each other. If there was one weapon she shouldn’t carry open like that, it was lightsabers. He nodded in the direction of her belt while she put on the cape. »Leave them here. Can you use blasters?« Gently she unclipped her sabers and put them down on the seat she had just slept on. »Think I’ll need to use it?« She quickly unraveled the messy bun she had her way too long hair in, brushing it out with her fingers and haphazardly putting it up again so it was less messy. »Better safe than sorry.« Following Mando she climbed down the ladder. 

Standing in front of his weapon cabinet, he reached in and handed her a blaster. As his glove brushed over her palm, she felt a strange tingle. Either he felt it as well or he just happened to start talking right as awkward silence was to begin. »Stay close,« he requested, earning a confused look from her in return. »The people here aren’t really welcoming towards women. It’s for the best if you leave the talking up to me.« 

»Probably heard worse,« Maia shrugged, making Mando eye her for a moment. There it was again, that sting that she by now had recognized as her body telling her in no uncertain terms that he was staring. He continued, »Just… don’t let the comments get to you. In their eyes you’re a slave or a plaything at best.« 

She scoffed. And while she had a lot to say about probably being more dangerous than most of some low-level criminals, she bit her tongue. As long as Mando didn’t think of her like that. Wait, why would that matter? »You’re a Mandalorian. In your culture women are treated almost equally, right?« They walked down the ramp, the child in its hovering pram following Mando. 

»Not almost. Women are equals. They’re trained to be warriors just the same.« »Sounds inviting…« Maia carefully watched their surroundings, glowing red eyes following their every step. What creatures must lurk in the shadows of such a grim place? And should she fear them or rather the monsters they would talk to soon? 

»I’m surprised you know anything about Mandalorians,« his voice guided her attention back to her companion. »I must’ve picked it up while I was traveling. You’re the first Mandalorian I’m talking to,« she half-lied. Raymond had told her all that he’d known about different semi-religious groups. Like the Jedi – and also Mandalorians were, in a way, such a group. »You haven’t met many of us, have you?« The helmet turned, waiting for her head to turn as well. She gave a half-smile and said »Your kind and mine generally don’t get along too well. Guess I’m lucky I ran into one that isn’t like that.« 

Mando returned his gaze to where they were headed, nodding towards a door guarded by a male Twi’Lek. Ever so gently, Maia hid behind her companion, avoiding looking at the guard that gave her an unsettling glance. »I'm here to see Gor Koresh.« The Twi’Lek eyed the Helmet, then the girl, and back to the helmet. Only then did he step aside to let them enter. »Enjoy the fights.«

They entered the building and darkness and a nauseating scent engulfed them. Maia was lucky to not have had any meal recently, otherwise she might have had to excuse herself to puke. A little arena stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by rows upon rows of barely filled seats. Two Gamorreans were fighting, their grunts echoing in the large and mostly empty hall. She and the little pram followed Mando, who sat down by his contact. Maia sat down beside Mando, again having him as a shield between her and Koresh. »You know this is no place for a child or a girl. Unless you want to trade her, I’m sure I can find someone to take her off your hands.« So that’s what he warned me about. »No need. I hoped you could help me locate other Mandalorians.« Both watched the fight intently, not looking at one another while talking. Maia didn’t really care for the fight and rather held out her hand to the child, letting it hold onto her pinkie and softly smiling. 

»Let’s watch the fight first. I’m sure your escort enjoys what she sees.« 

While Mando did not move a muscle, Maia clenched her jaw, trying hard not to audibly scoff. Of course. An escort. She should have been grateful he hadn’t directly insinuated her being Mando’s plaything. »Are you a gambler, Mando?« Koresh leaned towards Mando and therefore also came closer to her. Ever so slightly she leaned into the pram, pretending to be distracted by the child that was cooing at her. »Not when it can be avoided. I can pay you for the information.« »Come on. Let’s make a bet. I'll bet you the information you seek that this Gamorrean's going to die within the next minute and a half.«

Mando tensed and Maia watched as Gor leaned in more, his hand wandering behind his seat. She and the child exchanged a look, her hand slowly reaching for the blaster hidden underneath her cape. »I'm not leaving my fate up to chance,« her companion finally exhaled, just as Koresh grabbed a blaster, exclaimed, »Nor am I,« and shot the Gamorrean. His blaster now pointed at the armored man, he continued, »Thank you for coming to me. Normally, I have to seek out remnants of you Mandalorians in your hidden hives to harvest your precious shiny shells. Beskar's value continues to rise. I've grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse.«

»Tell me where I can find other Mandalorians and I will leave without killing you.« Mando’s voice was shockingly neutral for someone that had multiple blasters pointed at them. But maybe he was used to it, being a bounty hunter and all. Koresh scoffed. »Maybe I should take care of the girl first and then kill you.« Mando activated something in his bracer and sighed. »I never liked you.« Both the child and Maia instantly ducked, the pram closing its lid. The whistling birds whirred through the air, taking down two attackers and giving Mando enough time to pull his blaster.

»Protect the child!« he practically barked at Maia, who stayed close to the pram. For now the child was protected, encapsulated in metal. In any other situation her heart would’ve skipped a beat over him trusting her with the child suddenly, but she was distracted by the arms that wrapped around her torso, practically locking her in place and rendering her unable to shoot her blaster. »The green thing!« another shouted, approaching the pram. Mando was busy fighting two men at once, so she had to help the little gremlin. A warm tongue dragged across the side of her face just as the T-visor had turned to her. »Ya’ tasty,« the alien holding her growled, face still close to her cheek. Disgusting. But there was no time to freak out.

It didn’t take long until Maia shot him in the foot, making him let go off her so she could force-throw the alien that was trying to open the pram. He landed rather uncomfortably with his head against a wall, making a very loud cracking noise. »Jedi!« Kriff. 

She approached the pram, shot at the attackers that dared to come closer. Mando was out the door as soon as all of them were incapacitated, following Koresh and leaving Maia with the child. The pram opened and the large, dark brown eyes looked up to her. »Are you okay?« She eyed the little thing. It didn’t look injured, barely even disturbed by the situation. Must be nice to feel safe. 

She followed Mando outside, who just hung Koresh over a lantern by his foot. »All right, stop, stop! I'll tell you where he is, but you have to promise not to kill me.« Maia couldn’t help it, she rolled her eyes and scoffed again. She would gladly take that task off of his hands. Mando’s helmet rotated just a bit, acknowledging her reaction, but rather talking to Koresh. »I promise you will not die by my hand. Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?« »Tatooine.« »What? I’ve been to Tatooine multiple times and have never met other Mandalorians.« »I’m telling you the truth!« Koresh wiggled like a worm. »He’s in Mos Pelgo.« 

Mando’s shoulders dipped and he sighed as he turned toward Maia and their little green companion, who again held onto her pinkie finger. »Let’s go. We’re flying to Tatooine.« And both followed. Koresh bargained with them for a while, begging Mando to let him go. But that was never part of the deal. Mando turned around once to shoot at the streetlight, leaving Koresh to be devoured by the red-eyed creatures. They heard his screams all the way back to the ship. 

Back at the Razor Crest, Maia felt the all-too-familiar sting and turned to see him watching her. »Are you and the child alright?« His glove reached out and touched her chin, turning her face to the side as if she had a wound on the side of her … oh. »I saw what he did. I’m sorry.« »I’m fine.« »I wasn’t expecting them to be this  … awful« His hand was drawn back as she again looked through the visor rather than at it, making him tense once again. »It was part of the disguise. Don’t worry. I’m fine.« I’ve heard worse. 

She took the little one out of the pram and sat it down on the little bed inside the repurposed medbay, resting her hand on its forehead. Both the child and her closed their eyes for a second. »He’s fine.« »He? Can you two communicate?« »His name is Grogu. And yes, kind of, it’s hard to explain. It’s not like we’re properly talking like you and I.« »Grogu?« The child turned his head to the man, making a questioning noise. Mando watched the child’s reaction. A chuckle echoed underneath the Beskar and Maia swallowed. Such an innocent sound and it made her heart near explode. »I would’ve never guessed that. Grogu.« Again he faced his human companion. 

»I’ll fly us to Tatooine. It will take a while, you can rest in the bay.« Maia looked at the bay, to Grogu, and then back to Mando. »But that’s your bed,« she stammered. »It’s fine. I’m taking Grogu with me. Come, Kid.« He lifted the child off of the mattress and walked towards the ladder. »Get some rest.« 

She crawled into the bay and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling and trying to collect her thoughts. 

The Razor Crest lifted off of the ground and her eyes shut. She really needed some rest. And now that she was by herself in a relatively comfortable position, her thoughts wandered. 

So… that’s him. After all this time I found him. Only took what – fifteen years? Does he know? No, he can’t, how could he? But still… something feels weird. His touch. I can feel … him. How his eyes rest on mine, as if I can see them through the visor. Can he feel it?

She rubbed her eyes, staring at the ceiling again, sighing, pained. »Kriff…« She couldn’t stop the tears from running from the corners of her eyes, over her temples and into her hair. 

What is so special about you, Mando? And why do I feel like you’re warming up to me? The way you held my chin just now almost felt… gentle. Are you really concerned for me? Or do you still think I hold value to your mission? 

She wished she could talk to Raymond right now. 

Nothing to translate this time.

I hope you're having a wonderful day 💜

[lakesparkles]

LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

.

.

.

Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

Or

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

  The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

  Then it ended.

  Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

  Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

  She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

  And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

  Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

  "Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

  A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

  "I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

  "But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

  There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

  "You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

  "I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

  It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

  "I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

  She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

  The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

  She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

  Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

  Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

  At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

  She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

  It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

  Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

  Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

  She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

  Ryan didn't believe her.

  It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

  No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

  It was fear.

  Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

  Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

  "It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

  Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

  "Huh?"

  "This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

  "Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

  Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

  "I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

  "Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

  "No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

  Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

  "Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

  "Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

  "And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

  "Or no place will ever be our place!"

  "You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

  "You understand me, Alex."

  That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

  The color purple washed over Steph.

  Alex smiled.

  Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

[secret-subject]

So um how do you write a script exactly? I've been wanting to do it for a while but I don't know where to start or how.

What a great question! So a bit of backstory into my scripting journey. All of my audios pre-pandemi were usually freestyled. That included ASMR rps, hypnosis, you name it, I didn't script it. I actually found it harder to script than I did to just turn on a microphone and say words.

So, for me this has been a very new experience and now I script 90% of what I am currently making. I will say this is not for everyone and as a content creator you should embrace the creative method that works for you and not force yourself to do it exactly as someone else does.

Okay so how do I write? It starts with an idea. Sometimes this is based on erotica, soemthing someone says, art, stories, scenes I have played. It can come from anywhere for me and it's very sporadic and random. The second I get a good idea I write it down. Right now I have a million google docs on a spreadsheet and when I have that initial thought, I put the title down and bullet point any ideas for that script I have. This also means when I come back to it I already have a few guides to where it is going.

Bullet pointed notes are important to me because it tells me a little map of where this is going and I find my script are better if I have planned even a tiny bit compared to not at all.

Then I put on music and I try and get into the mindset of the character. I think about who they are, what they are feeling and what is this all about? What's the goal for this audio and what story are we trying to tell. This is where I just write and write and I try not to get in my own head about what is said, especially in the draft it doesn't matter a whole bunch.

The most important step, I read it out loud to myself or to my wife or literally anyone who will listen. This is crucial for me as it gives me the "mouth feel" of the words. If I stumble too much over certain parts they get changed. This is also important to see the layout of the script and see if the "flow" works. (The flow is the story beats of the audio, do they jump around too much? Does it skip time from one section to the other? Does it actually make sense for this to happen or that to be said?). I try not to over proof scripts. I want them to feel natural and like a little stream of consciousness. Because I used to do acting, I learned from experience you should always treat the words as "this is the first time I'm saying this" so being less rehearsed works for me so the least I can fuss over the script the better but that might not work for everyone.

As creatives we have a tendacy to overthink and overrefine work until it's "perfect" or "just right" but trust me when I say, don't. Back away from work when you need to and sometimes leave in the little mistakes. I have found over the years sometimes my mistakes are the parts that make the audios feel more special and real for people.

My most important advice for people wanting to try their hand at writing scripts is just do it. The first ones won't be good, but as you practice you will get better at it with experience. Take on constructive feedback and make sure you self reflect on it and not take it personally if you can.

Hope this helps!

[barkablebehaviour]

No. But really. I am so categorically down terrible. But also for the game, the amount of fun facts I could compile, would, make google doc tremble with the sheerest of fear. And probably make me cry, I’ve already got all their D.O.B. All the dates and occurrences, done some guessing games. Did math for this stupid ass COD game, which is high praise because getting me to do math is like telling me to date a man. Which, y’know, is never gonna happen. Not to mention. The split-Bell au, duel-Bell au? Never figured out what we were gonna call that, can truly show the depth of the games options. Blake Miller — Aka Wolf — (fem!bell), is the lethal untameable of the coin who would send the team into its demise of it weren’t for Belvedere Grasso — Aka Bell — (mal!bell) who interjects after the subsequent interrogation after Blake fibs about the Duga-2 Array being the nuclear armaments host location. But what I think is interesting is that Bell no matter the options isn’t thinking completely coherently. I mean, literally. Imagine you’ve just been given a healthy dosage of a unknown and likely hallucinogenic or memory reactive drug, right through the cerebral no doubt. Y’know, casually, ADMINISTERED THROUGH THE EYE. That’s painful, and incredibly dread inducing. Followed by the occurrence of one of the most gut-turning memory sequences, and outwardly we hear that Bell undergoes seizures(multiple depending on the route what V/O you’re given), a quickened pulse and likely more unspoken of. But it’s all dependant on the path taken, you seem to have a much easier job if you listen to Adler. However, if you don’t. You go through a literal psychological horror, you go back to the point where it started. You go back to where your identity was stripped from its very core.

Which again is why I like two Bells, even if it’s complicated to establish. Especially when they’re half-siblings. You see: Blake, doesn’t listen. She doesn’t trust Adler, she disdains his existence. Every breath of smoke he extinguishes from his charred lungs. He projected on her gave her scars to remember. Belvedere does trust him, for god sakes he loves him of course his voice is a soothing guidance amongst a sea of otherworldly horrors. Put perhaps that trust is near religious in nature.

In other words, me and @ssmoki are terrible! This game has consumed my mind since 2020 when I played the game when I was sick and didn’t understand what the fuck was going on! But I may also write a whole fanfic for this AU. Which’ll be like making a Trojan horse by myself because, wow, that’s a lot of character deets! But all I gotta do is remember the painfully agonising slowburn I have for two special dumbasses. Well, one certainly isn’t a dumbass but Blake sure is. And ofc whatever the blazing glory star that is Bell/Adler. We love our intoxicatingly loving, near insane levels of Florence Nightingale syndrome lovelies! Anyways! Heres a fun fact — Adler was born in 1937 on February. During Fracture Jaw (January 26th, 1968), that would make him 30 as it takes place in January. I think, again I don’t do math. Also another one; I chose the name Blake for fem!bell (Her real name is actually Yelena Ivana Krasnova, which is a mouthful) when I was going by Wyatt. So now when I say Blake I get confused on whether it’s me or my own damn self-insert at this point. Which now that I think about it is really driving the ‘self-insert’ aspect. But hey, all OCs for media are conventionally self inserts! Let’s be honest..

Also I don’t use tumblr often so like.. Catch me anywhere else, how ‘bout that. And I am also, terrible with social interaction. Hey guys, how are you! /h /gen

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil has always had nightmares and night terrors for as long as he can remember; however, when he met you, those began to subside more and more. Over the years, he had begun to forget what it was like to wake up in a cold sweat and terrified; that is until a few months ago. Once more, his mind has been plagued by these agonizingly real dreams.

BEGINNING NOTES: HAH! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WRITING SAD FLUFF WITH VERGIL; WELL THINK AGAIN (He really is my comfort character--I swear). There are 12,886 words in this… This beats my last one so now this is the longest chapter I’ve written--It’s like 23 pages in google docs lmao. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ ▪️I couldn’t find an exact answer to this so I will put this here: a grin refers to the lil’ smirky smile Vergil gives Dante in DMC5 while a smile is closer to like showing your teeth. I hope that helps clear things up a bit lmao ▫️I use an in-game combo term (DMC 5)--just a head’s up. ▪️When I reference triggering unless I say specifically “Sin Trigger” I am referring to Vergil’s regular trigger (the pre-DMC 5 form; however, I use the concept art for DMC5 as my visual reference… I know that’s kinda complicated. Just look at his fandom page and then the gallery; you’ll see the concept art for DMC5.) ▫️I’ve never personally had a concussion before so I did some online research; forgive me if it is a bad representation of having 🛡️⚔️🛡️ 💠Vergil x Male reader; I tried to write G/N but it got confusing, sorry. 🔹Pre-established relationship--married and living together. 💠Fluff… well more angst; I got kind of carried away. 🔹Minor accusations of physical abuse; THE KEYWORD IS ACCUSATIONS. (trigger warning) 💠Minor blood warning; from both of you. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ READER RELATED 🔹The reader uses: Beowulf and Revenant 🔹Reader is overly chill about things; I am a rather passive person so it ended up being that way with this story, sorry. 🔹It is mentioned that you are younger than Vergil--and closer to Nero’s age. 🔹Reader does throw up; only mentioned it isn’t like graphic or anything--still figured I should warn just in case. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ VERGIL RELATED 💠Vergil has PTSD-related nightmares/actions. 💠Self-harm? Vergil skins himself accidentally; so I am not sure if that is self-harm per se. Plus it’s only in one part so it’s not that big of a talking point. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Slight spoiler, don't read if you don't want to have things spoiled: To add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again.

==

INSPIRED BY: And when thy heart ceased to beat--By: Craig 

Please give this a read. It is what originally inspired me to write this, plus it is just a really good story and takes a pretty realistic look at what Vergil’s life could/would be like after everything that’s happened. 

==

     A cold wind swept through the arena as all movement stilled. 

     At the edges were the two remaining contenders; circling one another. One, a male human equipped with Beowulf, was out of breath and exhausted: the other, the olive-armored Nelo Angelo, had barely warmed up and diligently awaited the human's next move.

     Seeing how the man defeated the slew of lesser demons that Nelo had sent prior, he decided to take things into his own hands. The devilish swordsman was confident that he’d win this fight; even if this particular human has been more of a challenge than anticipated--as the pair has been going at it for nearly an hour now. 

     With gritted teeth, the man sprinted at Nelo, cracking the ground in their wake. He was going to try and grapple with the large knight. Right before he was able, Nelo swung his greatsword. The silver blade was suddenly halted as it hit the Beowulf gauntlets. Even though the man was unharmed, the momentum of the attack was enough to fling the human far across the field. 

     Using the claws of the gauntlets, the man shredded the arena’s floor and stopped himself. Nelo turned to face him and waited for the incompetent warrior to stand back up. Noticing that the knight stood still, the man began to grow frustrated; knowing that the devil was taunting him to try again. 

     With a pounding heart and exhaustion only worsening, the man stood up with a grunt. He rolled his shoulders, cracking them loudly, and took a deep breath. Once more he sprinted at Nelo. When the man was close enough, he decided to jump off one of the nearby walls. Springing himself above the Black Knight and performed Starfall. 

     Nelo dodged but wasn't quite fast enough and was nicked along one side; which only further irritated the Black Knight. The second the man's feet landed, Nelo kicked the underside of their knees--bringing them to a kneel.

     Not wasting any time, Nelo raised his sword to strike, only to be blocked once more by the Beowulf gauntlets. The pair locked in a bind; Nelo’s sword heavily pushing downwards onto the forearms of Beowulf, which were painfully held above the man’s head.

     No matter what way you put it, a devil's strength is insurmountable to a human’s, even if the human is wearing the armor of a former devil. Nelo knew this and drove his weapon harder into the demonic protection as it began to falter.

     Knowing it was only a matter of time before the gauntlets shattered, the man moved into a position where he could dig his feet into the ground. This allowed him to stand ever so slightly. Not having any better ideas, he used this small amount of space and attempted to jump. This, in turn, used the demonic energy of the boots to push the gauntlets up harder into the greatsword; allowing the man to stand up further. Without wasting any time, he jumped once more and noticed small cracks that began to spider on their forearm guards. However, he had enough room to break away from Nelo; making the knight slam his blade into the ground. 

     The man grumbled as they looked down at his gauntlets, seeing that they would shatter if hit by the sword again. 

     Nelo pulled his sword back up and huffed. Now it was his turn.

     Nelo sprinted at his opponent and lunged with the broadsword; catching the man off guard; as he only barely dodged the sharp edge, rolling into a stand. Before the man had a moment to think, Nelo attacked once more. A large sweeping motion from the broadsword hit the gauntlets and blue sparks flew off the sword from the impact; sending the human flying into a wall of the arena. 

     Standing back on his feet, the man looked at his forearms; Beowulf had fractured all the way through. Seeing Nelo begin to move in again, he quickly shed the broken armor and dodged. Using Beowulf’s boots, he jumped onto Nelo’s shoulders and used him as a surface to bounce off. 

     The devil turned to face the man and heard him say something unintelligible; and yet, something so familiar. Nelo ignored it with a small dismissive shake of his head and continued the fight. Once more he moved to attack. The man attempted to dodge in the same way again, not knowing what else to do. However, Nelo wasn’t created yesterday. He was quick enough to grab the man's leg in a flash. 

     Nelo used the human’s limb as a handle to swing the attached body into the ground. The floor cracked from the extreme force as the man's flesh made contact; followed by an ear-piercing scream and the sound of an unimaginable amount of breaking bones. 

     A strange feeling ghosted at the recesses of Nelo’s mind, a feeling of terror--a deep underlying urge to stop what he was doing. However, the knight had to finish what he started. The demonic swordsman grabbed the man by his neck; making him scream once more. 

     Despite their wounds, the human still attempted to fight. He grasped at Nelo’s face and horns, pulling on them; all the while, the man was saying something Nelo was still unable to understand. 

     It didn’t matter, the struggle was pointless.

     Like a hot knife through butter, Nelo plunged his broadsword through the man’s torso. Nelo felt the human’s body go limp and their hands released the tight grasp on his face. The dead man’s blood trickled down the silver blade and onto Nelo Angelo’s olive-armored fingers. Before the knight could enjoy his victory, he decided to get a better look at his opponent. 

     A loud clatter emanated from his sword as he dropped it and the fresh corpse. The Black Knight’s hands shook as he looked at the blood that was dripping from them, horrified at what he’d done.

     Vergil shot upwards with a loud terrified scream. 

     He frantically turned his head around to get his bearings. He was sitting at home, in bed, with you. Vergil’s heart was racing and his skin was clammy. With short panicked breaths, Vergil gripped his face tightly, unknowingly tearing at his skin with his claws, as he replayed everything in his mind. 

     “Vergil? Is everything alright?” a confused and very concerned voice called from the space beside him.

     The blue devil nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing you speak. You sat upwards upon noticing his terrified state.

     “Hey,” you whispered and gently touched his bicep, making him flinch.

     Vergil turned his head to you and just stared. You noticed that his arms were partially triggered, his eyes were glowing dully, and there were small pin-prick-sized bleeding marks caused by his claws on his face. His stare was blank with his brow ever-so-slightly creased. He looked afraid… almost as if he were lost.  

     “Another nightmare?” you softly kneaded against his arm, hoping to bring him back from whatever terrified thoughts he was in, “It’s okay, Vergil. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” 

     His stare moved down to your chest and he slowly reached outwards. Confused, you let go of his arm--allowing him to fully pivot to see you. Barely-there scaled charcoal-black fingers ghost down your midline. You noticed a slight tremble in his lips and his stare had softened a bit.

     Slowly you grabbed his arm, making sure he could see what you were doing (and to be cautious of his forearm’s blades), “I’m right here, Vergil. You’re safe and at home. Everything’s okay.”

     He opened his mouth but no words came out, just a weak crack of his voice. The both of you just sat for a few minutes; his palm resting firmly over your stomach while you rubbed his forearm. You continued to try and ground him back in reality with your words, hoping to keep things from escalating. 

     When Vergil’s trigger began to subside, he cleared his throat and spoke in a barely audible voice, “I didn’t…” his voice trailed off once more.

     “It’s okay Vergil,” you noticed his expression had shifted and he seemed to be more present, “You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re alright.”

     Vergil nodded slowly, his free hand moved to yours that you had on his forearm. You let go of him and watched as he removed his palm from your skin. He placed your hand in between both of his. With trembling fingers, Vergil ran his digits over your hand and arm while staring down at the interaction. 

     Another few minutes passed, Vergil’s trigger had fully subsided and a few stray tears fell from his eyes. It pained you to see him like this; to see him so scared and not know how to help him. A small pang of hurt tugged at your heart; you had a feeling that whatever the nightmare was, it involved you as (you presumed) most have. However, tonight was different; Vergil didn’t attack you.

     Over the past few months, Vergil’s nightmares and terrors had been getting steadily worse. Just two weeks ago he woke you up by almost dislocating your shoulder. A week ago? Vergil triggered in his sleep and gouged the crap out of your back--enough that you had to get new bedding because of bloodstains.

     Tonight, you finally managed to get him to sleep for the first time in a week and he had another agonizing nightmare. It was also the first time he had tried to speak to you afterwards; rather than sit in silence. 

     A stuttering breath caught your attention. You looked into Vergil’s eyes as he spoke, his voice still laced with a terror you’d never heard from him before, “I couldn’t… You...” the blue devil’s jaw quivered, not being able to bring himself to finish his thought.

     “You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” you moved to get closer to him, “I promise.”

     He pulled you into his lap and buried his face into your neck and continued to mumble, “I’m sorry,” over and over as he shook against you.

     You gently wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, “It’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry.”

     The two of you remained this way until you both fell asleep. Vergil, thankfully, did not have another nightmare; however, his sleep was far from restful.

==

     A ringing phone woke you from your sleep and you moved to grab it, only to be stopped by a strong set of arms. Vergil had wrapped himself entirely around you--legs and all.

     “Vergil,” you whispered, “I need to get up.”

     He grumbled in response and loosened his grip just enough for you to slip out of bed. You grabbed your phone and went to the bathroom. While in there, you saw that Dante had tried to call you and text you:

     “You coming in today?”

     “Hello?”

     “I am going to keep spamming you till you respond,” and that he did. 

     It looked like Dante had been doing this for the past 30 minutes. 

     After you finished up in the bathroom, you called Dante.

     It rang once before the red devil picked up, “Mornin’ beautiful.”

     You rolled your eyes as you made your way back to the bedroom, “Do not call me that; Vergil will kill you.”

     “Be one hell of a way to die--make sure to put it on my grave, yeah?”

     The both of you laughed, “So, what’s up? The shop finally burn down or something?”

     “Honestly… I don’t think the fires of Hell could burn this place down…” you could hear Dante’s chair creak as he leaned forwards, “You both forgot about that job this morning, huh?”

     Your face went pale, “What--”

     The younger twin laughed, “Verge and you had a contract for today. It’s nearly noon and you both are still at home?”

     “Son of a bitch!” you yelled, forgetting that Vergil was still sleeping, “We’ll be right there.”

     “See you soon,” you could practically hear Dante reveling in the fact Vergil messed up.

     “Mhm, yep,” with that, you hung up the phone.

     “Dante?” Vergil grumbled from the bed, making you jump slightly.

     The bed creaked as you sat on it, swinging one leg on it, “Yeah… We are late to work…”

     Vergil moved to set his head on your lap and sighed, “I will undoubtedly never hear the end of this mistake.”

     “Mhm,” you gently ran your fingers through his naturally down hair, “knowing Dante.”

     “Brillant,” Vergil looked up at you and had a strange pained look.

     “Something on your mind?” 

     His lips parted slightly as he took a hand and reached up to your face, not saying anything.

     You kissed his palm, “I’m right here, Vergil.”

     He closed his eyes and nodded with a sputtering exhale. This had also become a regular occurrence in the last few months; even before the terrors began. You had noticed that Vergil would often stare at you with this sad and distant look on his face. One night, he finally acknowledged that he did so and admitted why; that he was afraid you aren't real.

     After a few moments, Vergil removed his hand and sat upright. An air of remorse emanated from the twin as he whispered, “I did not harm you last night, did I?”

     You shook your head, “No,” you set a hand on his bicep, “You did talk to me a bit, though.”

     His brow furrowed as he tried to remember and looked over his shoulder at you.

     “You kept… apologizing, telling me that you didn’t know..? I won’t pry, but…” you locked eyes with the blue devil, “I am here if you ever want or need to talk about it, okay?”

     He turned to you, “Thank you for your offer… But I assure you that I am fine.”

     “Vergil,” you placed a hand on his and spoke softly, “You don’t have to be fine all the time; it’s okay to be upset, to have problems.”

     A weak grin was all he gave you in return, squeezing your hand tightly. 

     The eldest twin knew exactly what had set off this spiral of increasingly terrified thoughts; however, he was ashamed to admit it, even to you. 

==

     It had been a job just like any other; clear out demons here and destroy a nest there--a piece of cake really. However, the weather was far from amiable; being overcast and heavily raining.

     “Fuck me!” you growled as you violently yanked the Beowulf boot from the mud. 

    The demonic hardware is rather heavy, at least for your human legs, so it is not ideal for muddy rainy weather--often getting stuck. Vergil noticed your grumbling and scrunched-up expression from the corner of his eye as he stifled a laugh. 

     “Don’t even--” you insincerely growled at him, “I swear I will throw them at you.”

     Vergil smirked slightly and huffed a laugh through his nose, “Perhaps you’d prefer me to leave you here?”

     Playfully you shoved his shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare.”

     His eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't?"

     You raised a brow, "You'll sleep on the couch for a week if you do, mister,” your voice was heavily layered with sarcasm and playfulness.

     Without responding, Vergil grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you over one of his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

     “Hey--!” you squirmed in his grasp.

     “Stop struggling,” his grip tightened as his fingers dug into your skin, “Or I will drop you.”

     With a shake of your head and a smile, you laughed, “What a romantic husband I have.”

     “Tch,” Vergil was scowling, but you knew it was disingenuous.

     The two of you walked like this for some time, enjoying the comfortable silence (which if you listened very closely, you could hear Vergil purring). A part of you had almost forgotten that the both of you were on a job; that is until Vergil yanked you from his shoulder and plopped you on your feet. 

     He placed a stiff hand on your shoulder, “Stay,” with that, Vergil dashed off behind you. 

     Confused, you turned around and watched Vergil zip around a group of miscellaneous demons. You lovingly wolf-whistled at the silver-haired hunter. 

     Similar to a peacock showing its feathers, Vergil did these solo fights to show off--to flirt with you. You knew that this was the case because he would always finish the fight with a fancy move; be it an over-the-top judgment cut or using his doppelgänger in a combo. Today he opted for the second type.

     You smirked widely as you watched Vergil return the Yamato to its scabbard and dismiss Doppel.

     Lovingly, you cooed at the devilish swordsman, “I love watching you work, you know that?”

     His face was emotionless, holding intense eye contact with you. His lips were slightly parted as he seemingly tried to come up with a response. 

     Under your breath, you laughed quietly and approached him, “my Dark Slayer,” you winked and gave him a large grin. 

     He closed his lips and looked down with a tiny smirk, a trace amount of bashfulness ghosted his features. As you got within reach of him, a loud noise made both of you snap to attention. The two of you moved closer together, back to back; as per typical routine. The source of the noise sprung from the nearby buildings. It was a group of four Scudo Angelos and two Proto Angelos. 

     Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed in irritation. He would always take care of these two types in particular, alone. Right now, however, it is impossible to get you away to a safe distance without a high risk of hurting you. 

     “So, you got a plan?” you calmly asked over your shoulder to Vergil.

     With a small click of his tongue, Vergil spoke, “You take care of the Scudos; I will take the Protos.”

     “Sounds good,” you nodded and the two of you broke apart. 

     Using Beowulf, you made quick work of the smaller demons’ shields. The talon heels of the boots are always a great tool for crushing the demons’ thick skulls. It didn’t take long for you to have them all but bloodied remains beneath your heels. You turned to address Vergil, figuring that he had finished his fight alongside you; however, he was still in combat. 

     You raised a brow as you watched him take on both of the knights. Confusion pricked at the edges of your mind, it was unusual for Vergil to take longer than you. The closer you watched the more off he seemed; his movements were overly stiff and his technique was sloppy. Deciding to help him, you moved in on one of the Proto Angelos. It didn’t take long for the demon to notice you. It charged at you and, just as it swung its broadsword, you parried the attack using your gauntlets. Taking advantage of the small gap of time that it took for the demon to pull its blade upwards, you hit it square in the chest. 

     The Proto Angelo stumbled back a bit but was relatively unphased by the uncharged punch. Now circling each other, you waited for the demon to attack. Once it did, you jumped upwards and were able to perform Starfall upon the knight. Grinding your taloned heels into the flattened olive-armored demon, you did a fancy flip off of it; deciding to have some fun. Which was a major mistake. 

     You hadn’t noticed that the second Proto Angelo also had its attention on you as it had knocked Vergil into a far-off wall. Hearing movement, you spun around to defend yourself but it was too late. 

     A searing pain shot through you as the demon’s broadsword slashed horizontally along your torso. With a loud shout, your knees buckled a bit as you stumbled backwards. You placed your arm along the slash, feeling it with your fingers--as to not break eye contact with the demon. The wound was bleeding profusely and was much deeper than you anticipated. 

     “Shit,” you grimaced and noticed the first Proto Angelo stand up. Thinking quickly, you sprinted at the second one and jumped off its shoulders. With another loud shout in pain, you landed using a shoulder roll. Your head was spinning as you slowly moved to kneel with your back to the demons. 

     A bright blue flash caught your eye and you felt a gush of wind pass you by. Once you managed to stand, the pair of Proto Angelos had been desolated into nothing but specs of dust in the wind. Where the demons once stood was Vergil in his sin trigger. Instantly, he was in front of you, making you jump a little. 

     With a huff and a weak smile, you jested, “Kinda sad I missed that,” you winced a bit as you felt your gut twitch in pain.

     A large grey-scaled hand gently touched your wound. Despite the heavy distortion of his sinful voice, you could tell he was worried, “You are hurt?”

     You did your best to play it off as you set a hand atop his, “I’ll be fine; it’s just a scratch.”

     He huffed loudly and pulled his hand from your body, looking at his palm that was covered in your blood, “I am sending you home--”

     “What-!” you shook your head, “Vergil, you can’t be-”

     The blue devil snarled lightly, “This is not up for discussion,” he sighed with a shake of his head returning to his human form, “It is not worth the risk to keep you here.”

     With parted lips, you did your best to formulate a sentence despite your anger, “I’m not just going to leave you,” you shifted your jaw to the side, “We’re partners, remember?”

     “As if I could forget,” Vergil’s eyes met yours as he mumbled, “That is why I am doing this.”

==

     “Vergil?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, “You okay? You’ve been zoned out for a few minutes.”

     “Forgive me,” he removed his hand from yours, “I was lost in thought.”

     You looked at him curiously.

     Vergil shifted to the other edge of the bed, “We should get ready,” with that Vergil left the room.

     You pursed your lips and sighed through your nose as you stood up; admittedly, you had hoped he might indulge you on what he was thinking about. 

     After a few minutes, Vergil returned to the room. You already had the majority of your gear on and were in the middle of tying your boots when the ringing of your cell phone caught your attention.

     Before you could answer it, Vergil snatched it off the bedside table, “What do you want, Dante? "

     Although you couldn’t hear the younger twin, you could tell that he was poking fun at Vergil for being late. 

     “Have you called only to pester? Or is there a reason for this conversation?” Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed through his nose.

     A small smirk tugged at your lips at Vergil’s feigned irritation at his baby brother.

     “I see,” Vergil slowly looked over to you and eyed you up and down, “My partner and I will discuss it and let you know,” he turned his gaze from you, “Goodbye,” he hung up the phone and placed it gently down on the bedside table as it was before. 

     Vergil moved to the closet and grabbed a dress shirt, his jaw moving slowly around as he mindlessly buttoned the black fabric. Your boots hit the floor with a soft thud. Humming a soft tune as you moved to the dresser to grab Revenant off of it, sliding it into the horizontal holster on the small of your back. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Vergil standing behind you. 

     “Oops, shit-- sorry,” you shuffled out of the way.

     “Do not apologize, I am in no rush,” he opened one of the drawers and grabbed a pair of pants and his belt.

     A bright smile adorned your face as you resumed your humming. You grabbed your coat and his off the nearby wall hooks and walked over to him.

     Vergil had moved back to the closet and slid on one of his vests.

     “Allow me?”

     The blue devil turned to you, “I can button my own clothing.”

     “I thought you weren’t in a rush?” you teased gently.

     You handed Vergil his coat to hold and slowly began to button the slate-blue apparel. Out of the top of your vision, you could see that Vergil was staring down at you with a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

     “So what did Dante want?” you reached over to the closet behind him and grabbed one of his ties.

     “He wanted to know if you wished to trade places with him for today.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” you made sure the tie was semi-loose--as he prefers--and tucked it beneath his vest.

     “That he would accompany me on the job and you would work with the women--taking Dante’s place."

     “Well,” you rested your hands on his shoulders and sighed quietly, “I guess that makes the most sense since we are so late today…”

     “Are you sure you are alright with it?” his eyes flicked to your hands then back to you, “I know you prefer to work with me,” he tossed his coat over on the bed and placed his hands on your waist.

     You laughed as you felt him pull you closer, “It’ll be fine, dear,” you leaned your head on his chest, “just promise me you’ll stay safe and keep in touch?”

     “Of course,” his voice was barely over a whisper as he kissed the top of your head, “Same goes for you.”

     “I will,” a grin spread across your face as you leaned back to look at him. Lovingly, Vergil pressed further into you and moved one of his hands to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. The two of you kissed gently. His other hand kneaded into your hips as you moved your hands down the front of his chest, grabbing his vest. 

     Gradually, you two split from the kiss. The blue devil stayed touching your forehead. You shivered slightly feeling his hot breath against your lips, wanting to taste more of him.

     “Perhaps we should save this for later?”

     “Just a little more… please?” you pouted slightly.

     The blue devil chuckled softly, “With a face like that,” he brushed his lips against yours, “how could I say no?”

     The two of you intertwined yourselves once more. He moved both his hands to your sides, slowly and strongly kneading down them. With kisses as sweet as molasses, he made sure to show you how much he relishes in your affections. One of your hands moved to his hair and slowly ran your fingers through slicked back pomaded locks. A small distant purring could be heard as he pulled you even tighter to his body. Vergil’s lips left yours and ran down your jawline and neck.

     “I love you,” you murmured, “so very much…”

     He removed his lips from your skin and looked you in the eyes; his way of expressing the same affection. Despite his silence, you knew he felt the same. 

     A ghost of a smile hinted at Vergil's face as he reluctantly let go of your body, returning to his regular volume, “We should get going; otherwise I may change my mind about saving things for later.”

     Your face turned a slight red at the flat-out way Vergil said that he wanted you. The blue devil had walked over to the bed and slid on his coat. He then grabbed Yamato from its resting place next to the bed and your phone.

     With your phone outstretched in his hand, he raised a brow at your expression, “Ready?”

     You shook the ever-encroaching ideas from your head as you meekly grabbed your phone, “Yeah.”

     “Good,” his hand was still outstretched, “Shall we?”

     A large smile decorated your face as you grabbed his hand, “Lead the way, dear.”

==

     The instant you left Nico’s van after work, you went inside to bathe. It had been another rainy day and you were not only coated in demon blood but also mud--lots of mud. You pulled off Beowulf before entering your shared home and set them on the rubber mat near the door; leaving them to clean later. 

     Slowly, you undressed as you made your way to the bathroom when you heard something odd.

     “--to do,” it was Vergil. You peered through the door of the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from you and was talking to himself, “Perhaps it would be best--” he stopped and turned his head slightly to the right. 

     You bit your lip and knocked gently, “Hey, sorry to intrude… Didn’t know you were home.”

     Vergil pushed up on his knees, standing to turn and face you, “Do not apologize, I wasn’t doing anything important…” he looked worn out.

     The door creaked as you fully opened it and stepped into the room, halfway undressed, “You look tired, babe.”

     The blue devil shook his head, “Dealing with my brother is exhausting.”

     “Well, then after I shower,” you set Revenant down on the dresser, “maybe we should take a nap together?” 

     “I-” Vergil’s expression hardened, “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

     Your lips parted slightly as you looked with a soft crease of your brow, “I know it’s been rough but… you need some sleep, Vergil…”

     He looked as if he were going to say something, but moved his gaze to the floor and nodded in agreement. 

     “You don’t have to wait for me,” you moved back towards the door, “I’ll join you when I get back, okay?”

     The eldest twin nodded as he watched you leave the room.

     He had already removed most of his clothing, only having his pants and his, untucked, dress shirt on. Slowly, Vergil stood and went to get a more casual shirt; removing the rest of his work clothes. 

     Now dressed in a loose-fitting black tank top and navy boxer briefs, he moved back to the bed. Apprehensive didn’t even describe how he felt right now; no, the eldest son of Sparda was petrified over the thought of sleep. However, you were right, he was beyond beat and wanted nothing more than to rest. With a heavy sigh, he climbed into the bed and closed his eyes, praying for just a moment of pleasant sleep.

     You came back into the room about an hour later. With a warm smirk, you tip-toed around the room to avoid waking the sleeping devil. Once you re-dressed yourself, you turned back to look at Vergil when you noticed something was wrong. 

     His face was contorted into a rather violent grimace and, as per the night before, was partially triggered. Vergil was also breathing heavily and growling in his sleep. In his arms, he had taken one of the pillows--and some of the duvet--into a death grip, ripping them.

     Biting your lip in thought you sighed, “Shit…” although you knew that this could only end badly, you decided to wake him up from his nightmare.

     Cautiously, you moved to the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Vergil..?”

     Nothing.

     Your gut twisted with fear as you shook him harder, “Vergil?”

     Still nothing.

     With a heavy sigh, you shook him harder, “Wake up…”

     Instantly, you were pinned to the floor by a set of charcoal-black scaled hands around your throat. You had never been scared of Vergil before but tonight? You were terrified. His face was somewhere between emotionless and furious. A loud rumbling growl emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to squeeze ever-tighter.

     “Verg-” your voice sputtered as you grabbed his arms, gasping for air. 

     Blood had begun to trickle down your palms as you accidentally sliced them on his forearm blades in your panic. Becoming steadily aware of your need for air, you grabbed at his face and neck; anything to get him off of you. 

     Tears sprung from your eyes as you felt his claws pierce the sides of your neck as his grip tightened even further. You knew that if he pressed down his thumbs, Vergil would stab right into your windpipe and kill you. 

     Lightheadedness began to sink in as you croaked out another beseeching plea to your lover, “Vergil--!”

     With nothing left to do, you clawed harder against him and roughly cut into his cheek with your nails. This seemingly pulled him from his delusion as his grip loosened.

     A new look replaced the hardened glare from before, a look of complete and utter horror. 

     Vergil’s voice trembled as he realized what was going on, “What--?”

     You took a loud deep breath and pulled his arms away from you and spoke as best you could with the growing pain in your throat, “Move,” you pushed against his body and did your best to speak normally, “please.”

     Without hesitation, Vergil removed himself completely and stood staring down at you. He looked at his, still-triggered, hands and saw your blood dripping from his claws. The blue devil’s blood ran cold. 

     “Vergil-” you groaned as you sat upwards, watching him bolt out of the room, “Wait-” with a strained grunt, you gradually stood upright and did your best to stabilize your wobbly legs.

     The blue devil slammed the bathroom door close, quickly locking it behind him. His hands had de-triggered and shook violently as he tried to wash the blood from his skin. He had turned the faucet as hot as possible and had begun to inadvertently scorch his skin. While he was brutalizing his own hands, he felt something drip down his jawline and to the tip of his chin. Vergil looked at himself in the fogged-up glass in front of him.

     Upon each side of his face and neck were dark smears of your blood from you pushing him away. Three large scratches decorated one of his cheeks and were slowly bleeding; now dripping off of his chin and to the sink below. Vergil took one of his hands and slowly ghosted over the markings on his face. A deep all-encompassing pit formed in his gut as he replayed the nightmare from just the night prior. The feeling of you desperately tearing at Nelo’s face, trying to escape him.  

     A tremble found its way to Vergil’s lips and body. Pressing as hard as he could, the eldest twin began to desperately scrub his blood-stained face with the sink's boiling water; grimacing from the feeling of peeling the top layers off of his flesh. You were the only person in the world he wouldn’t dare fight, wouldn’t dare harm; yet, only mere moments ago, he had his hands around your neck. A wicked thought echoed in his mind, how it would have only taken just a few more seconds or just a little more pressure for him to have killed the only person he has ever loved. Vergil bared his teeth as he let out a muffled whimper, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

     The knob of the door jiggled, “Vergil?” the Dark Slayer flinched at the sound of your voice, even though it was soft and calm, “Vergil, are you okay?”

     He couldn’t come up with what to say in response, only whimpering again with a sad twitch of his lip. 

     Using an even softer tone, you set your head on the door, “Vergil… Let me in, please?”

     Despite his effort to come up with something, all he could muster was a loud voice crack as gripped the countertop.

     “Vergil,” you sighed quietly, “I want to see you. Please open the door,” an overwhelming amount of fear had consumed your mind; not for yourself, but over how Vergil might punish himself over this, “Please, Vergil…”

     “I-” he took a harsh breath trying to calm himself--and failing miserably, “What if I--” a crack began to form in the laminate countertop as his raw skinned fingers gripped harder and harder in growing frustration.

     “You won't; I promise.”

     After what seemed like an eternity, Vergil shut off the faucet and unlocked the door. You opened the door slowly and felt your heart sink at seeing your blue devil. 

     At the furthest point from the door, he was sitting on the floor, trembling heavily. Scalding red marks adorned his pale skin where he had been scrubbing and his fingers were no better. 

     “Vergil…” you approached him and saw his body stiffen, “Can I sit next to you?” 

     All he gave you was a small nod. Slowly, you moved next to him and sat beside him.

     Neither of you spoke for nearly a half hour. At one point, you managed to get a hold of one of his hands and intertwined your fingers; thumbing over the fading red marks. Internally, you were fighting the urge to hold him as close and as tight to you as possible.

     Vergil’s voice was nearly silent when he finally spoke, “I’m sorry.”

     “It’s okay--”

     “No,” he pulled his hand from yours and turned to stare at you, “No, it’s not okay,” with each word he got louder and held more frustration, “I could have--” he clenched his jaw as he scrunched his face, holding back his overwhelming storm of emotions, “I could have killed you!”

     “Vergil…” you decided to follow his idea and pivoted to face him fully, “I face death every day with work so it--”

     The blue devil snarled loudly, “I am not some mindless fucking demon,” he gripped his face with his hands, “I should be able to control myself!” tears began to slide down his face as he grimaced intensely, bearing his teeth in frustration.

     You were taken aback, you have never heard Vergil swear before, let alone sound so distraught, “I--” your lips pursed as you carefully chose your words, “I didn’t mean it like that, Vergil,” you gently set a hand on his knee, “I just meant that I’m used to that kind of thing, as morbid as that sounds.”

     A tremble reappeared through his lips, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that from me; it goes against everything I…” his mouth opened as if he were going to continue but no words came out.

     You were trying your hardest to stay calm despite wanting to join his crying upon seeing him this way. Tenderly, you thumbed over his leg, “When we got married,” you made sure to keep your voice slow and soft, “I signed up for whatever hardships may happen, to or from either of us--that we would figure things out together,” you noticed that Vergil’s stare had finally reconnected to yours, “no matter what the what happens."

     Vergil pursed his lips before taking a slow deep breath through his nose. His brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, slowly stopping his weeping, and removed his hands from his face. 

     A part of Vergil wanted to argue with you; to tell you that you're insane, delusional, that you shouldn't bear the punishment of his inner demons. The feeling of you grabbing his hands and holding them pulled him from his bitter thoughts. 

     Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, whispering against them, “I love you,” you brought the other hand up and repeated your action, “more than anything in the world, Vergil.”

     His grip tightened on your hands, “You are a fool," Vergil did his best to sound normal but only managed to give a small whispering whimper of a response. 

     “If loving you is foolish then I will happily play the court jester, my love,” a small smile tugged at your lips, hoping to make him feel a little better.

     After a brief moment of silence, Vergil released your hands and scooched closer to you, “May I see…” he meekly gestured at your neck.

     You nodded slightly and exposed your neck to the blue devil. The skin of your neck had already begun to darken and had small red petechiae marks. It was easy to tell that Vergil had used his hands on you because of the long slender lines of bruising; which ended in much darker spots where he had been pressing the hardest (except his thumbs). At the end of each dark spot were small needle-like marks that had dried blood on and around them. 

     Although you tried your best, you flinched at the feeling of his fingers ghosting your neckline. Vergil’s expression became increasingly distressed the longer he looked at you. Seeing this, you grabbed his other hand and held it tightly; hoping to provide some solace to him. 

     “It’s alright, Vergil, it’ll heal,” you whispered as he pulled his hand back from your neck.

     A small tremble found its way to his lips as he whispered back, “I am sorry.”

     “You do not have to apologize,” you grabbed his other hand and held it, “It is not your fault.”

     He paused for a moment before speaking, “We,” his voice cracked as he avoided your eyes, “We should get you cleaned up.”

     With a comforting grin and soft voice you thumbed over his fingers, “You sure you are okay to do that?”

     Vergil nodded, “I’ll be okay,” he pulled one of your hands to his lips and kissed it very gently.

==

     It wasn’t long before morning rolled around. Reluctantly, you had agreed to let Vergil stay in the living room for the night and you sleep in the bedroom, alone. 

     You woke up freezing as you had grown accustomed to the broiling body heat of your lover. With a loud groaning yawn, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. As you walked to the bathroom, you felt a sudden sharp headache form. 

     Upon reaching the desired location, you noticed that the laminate countertop was cracked badly by Vergil gripping it.

     “Shit,” you grumbled.

     Your thoughts were cut off as you began feeling very off balance, leaning on the broken surface for support, before suddenly lurching forward into a kneel and throwing up in the toilet. During all your years of hunting, you knew what concussions felt like and this was definitely one of the worst ones you've ever had.

     “Fu-uck,” you sighed with a scowl slowly emerging on your features.

     Finishing up what you had originally gone in there to do--and making sure to brush and rinse the fuck out of your mouth--you left the room with a few painkillers in hand.

     The house was uncharacteristically silent as you wobbly meandered your way to the kitchen. Once at the sink, you poured yourself a glass of water and took the pills. With your hands resting on the edge of the sink, you slowly drank the rest of the water; doing your best to stay upright. The lukewarm water only helped to highlight the growing pain in your throat. 

     “Are you alright?” a voice called from your right.

     “Gah--!” you jumped slightly and dropped the cup in the sink--which was thankfully plastic. Then turned to see that it was Vergil, “You scared me, Vergil--" you took a deep breath trying to calm your heart, "I am fine, just a little sore is all.”

     His face softened as he cautiously pulled you into a close hug, “I’m sorry--is there anything I can do to help?”

     “This is exactly what I needed,” you leaned further into him and heard him purring quietly, “How are you doing, dear?”

     Vergil had a small smile as he whispered, “Much better now that I am with you.”

     The two of you held each other--swaying slightly--for what seemed like only mere seconds; when, in reality, it had been nearly a half hour. 

     Vergil nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head and spoke very quietly, “I hate to ruin the moment; however,” he pulled back from the hug enough to see you, “Dante requested us to come in early today.”

     You raised a brow, “Why?”

     “Morrison brought in a big contract; Dante requested that all of us be there for the briefing…” Vergil placed a hand on your face, not wanting to let you go.

     “Mmn, suppose I need to get ready,” you leaned into his palm and closed your eyes, and sighed, leaning out of the hug, “Best not to be late again."

==

      Both of you stood at the front door, debating on how you were getting to the DMC. Since you had a concussion, traveling with the Yamato was out of the question--last time you had traveled under the same circumstances, you almost threw up inside the portal and then proceeded to pass out once on the other side.

     “You sure you’re alright with this? I can just call an Uber or something,” you folded your arms and raised a brow.

      Vergil nodded, “I am fine with it; however if you aren’t then--”

     “No- no, it's fine just,” you tried not to laugh, “never thought 'flying via devil' would be something I’d do.”

     He grinned, “Perhaps we should travel this way more then.”

     “And here I thought you only used your trigger for emergencies,” you playfully teased.

     “This is an acceptable outlier,” Vergil laughed quietly. 

     With a bright flash of cornflower blue light, Vergil stood before you in his devil trigger.

     A warm smile adorned your face as you approached the black and blue devil, "I never knew the devil was so handsome,” your voice was laced with sarcasm as you placed a hand on his cheek.

     “Chivalry will get you nowhere, human, ” Vergil gently jested back, holding back a small laugh, “I will devour you whole.”

     “Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you dramatized your words; placing the back of your hand on your forehead and leaning back slightly, “Someone save me,” you did your best to stifle your laughter.

     He wrapped his wings around you and looked downwards at your expression, “No one will take you from me, pet. ”

     “I-” your lips were slightly agape as you tried to formulate a response--Vergil had never called you that before.

     However, he spoke before you could come up with anything, “What? Devil got your tongue?” he leaned in close, breath washing over your lips.

     “Mmn, no,” you moved your lips even closer to his, “I wish he did though.”

     Vergil cautiously connected with your lips. You moved your hands to the dark reddish-brown underside of the leathery appendages and slowly ran your fingers along the grooves. This elicited a moan from your blue devil and made him push himself against you harder. His fingers were trembling as he ghosted them along your sides, catching your attention.

     Breaking off the kiss but not moving away, you whispered against his lips, “You can touch me, Vergil. You won’t hurt me,” you used your hands to push his palms to your sides.

     His pupils dilated slightly, “Are you--”

     You cut him off with an aggressive kiss, placing your hand on his chest and kneading into him. Not wasting any more time, Vergil came back at you with an even more intense fervor. He pushed his tongue within the confines of your mouth. A muffled moan came from your lips as Vergil used his oral mastery inside your cavern; touching everything he could and playing with your tongue.

     After a minute or two, you both broke apart from the kiss. You smiled widely at him and placed a long sweet smooch on the tip of his nose; making him scrunch a bit in confusion. The two of you stood holding one another for a few minutes before you broke the serene silence. 

     “We should probably get going,” you sighed, “otherwise we won’t be making it to work…”

     The eldest son of Sparda sighed as well, “I suppose you are right…” he picked you up bridal style as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, “Shall we?”

     You nodded as he opened the door. A sudden cold wind shot right through you as you leaned in closer to the hot-blooded devil. It was raining quite heavily so Vergil shifted you to face him completely; sheltering you the best he could from the elements, holding you underneath your thighs. With a small grunt from the devil, you two were off into the air.

==

     The flight wasn’t very long, you were at the DMC within a half hour; however, the rain had steadily gotten worse and made it a less-than-optimal flight. Vergil decided to land on the roof rather than risk being seen on the street and quickly ushered you indoors; fearing you would fall ill. 

     You took off your sopping wet coat and shook your head a bit, trying to dry off. Vergil had de-triggered and, because of how hot his devil trigger is, he was bone dry as he raised a brow at your “dog-like” actions.

     “What?” you looked up at him, giving him a curious smile.

     “Nothing,” he gave you a smirk in return.

     The two of you came downstairs, Vergil went first as you followed. Upon entering the foyer, you noticed that Vergil wasn’t kidding when Dante said “everyone”. Said red devil, Nero, Trish, Lady, and even Nico were inside the Devil May Cry; all chatting amongst themselves. 

     The younger twin noticed you both on the stairs and flashed a wide grin, “Glad you both could make it! Thought maybe you were going to sleep in-- Ah,” a small dagger from Vergil jabbed Dante in the arm.

     You pursed your lips and stifled your laughter, quietly speaking to Vergil, “Give me your coat? I’ll go hang it.”

     He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before doing as you asked; delicately handing you the dark navy clothing. Vergil moved towards the bar counter to converse with Nero as everyone else resumed their conversations. With a small spring to your step, you waltzed over to the hooks near the front door and hung both your jackets. Pivoting on your heels, you went to move back into the room when you were stopped by Dante. 

     The red devil stood in front of you and used his forefinger and thumb to turn your head upwards; revealing the bruising on your neck. An aggressive furrow appeared on his brow as he frowned intensely.

     “Dante,” you whispered so that only he could hear you, “It’s not what you think--” his turquoise eyes locked with yours before he let go of your chin. It was too late.

     He turned around, “Alright,” Dante’s voice was between serious and pissed-off, a tone that was highly unlike the high-spirited brother, “What the fuck.”

     Vergil tilted his head ever-so-slightly and parted his lips in confusion, squinting at his twin.

     Dante made his way across the room, you followed him and tried to get him to stop, but were unable as he spoke even louder than before, “What is wrong with you?!”

     The blue devil’s face only became more confused as his eyes flicked between his brother and you.

     The red devil shoved Vergil, “Answer me, Vergil!”

     Fearing that the two would escalate into a larger fight, you grabbed one of Dante’s arms and tugged him away, straining your sore voice, “Dante you don’t understand-”

     Dante turned to you, “I think I know strangle marks when I see them,” his eyes went back to Vergil, “I'm tired of not saying anything.”

     With a slight sharpness, Vergil closed his eyes and scrunched his face, “What are you talking about?”

     “Don't play stupid,” Dante raised his voice even louder with a slight growl, “You think that I didn’t notice? Everyone here has noticed--fuck,” he flung his arm out, gesturing at nothing in particular, “even Morrison asked me about it!”

     “What does--”

     Dante's voice was unbearably loud as he yelled at his older brother, "You're fucking beating your husband, Vergil!” 

     The shop went silent. At this point, Nero had moved toward the couch the three ladies were sitting on, awaiting Vergil’s response.

     Your eyes widened at Dante and the absurd notion he had brought forth. Knowing Dante as you do, you had figured he was going to jab at Vergil for "being too rough in bed" or something stupid--not domestic abuse. With a slightly furrowed brow, you turned to the group next to you, then back to the brothers, and noticed Vergil’s pale stare. 

     Vergil huffed quietly through his nose as he looked downwards, pursing his lips in thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Dante with a cold glare, "Do you really think that lowly of me, Dante?"

     Dante cocked his head to the side, his voice still laced with a growl, "You know, after what you've done? Sorry, but I wouldn't put it past you."

     Vergil’s face was barren of any emotion--to everyone else besides you, that is. You’ve been in a relationship long enough with the stone-faced slayer that it was painfully obvious how much Dante’s accusation hurt him. Unable to think of what to say, he just stood there and glared at his twin. 

     "I ain't letting this go, Vergil. I'll stand here all fuckin--" a loud crack of thunder cut Dante off as the power went out in the shop.

     You weren't sure what happened, but the next thing you knew, you were on the floor and a sin-triggered Vergil was encompassing your surroundings. It was overwhelmingly hot as you felt his wings and arms tighten around you, pushing you further into his chest. The blue-grey devil shook wildly as a continuous thunderous growl emanated from deep within his chest. At any other point, it would have been a nice feeling; however, the loud sounds, sweltering heat, and the bright blue light from his chest made your headache turn from bad to agonizing. 

     Through the loud rumbling, you could vaguely make out Dante speaking; something about Vergil overreacting. Then you felt Vergil shift slightly and heard a loud yelp from the younger twin. There was a loud shuffling of hasty movement from the couch beside the two of you which made Vergil snarl even louder. 

     Lady could be heard telling Dante to “back off” of (presumably) Vergil. You then a loud creak of the garage door being opened and more shuffling feet. The last thing you heard from the rest of the crew was Nero saying something unintelligible and shutting the door. Leaving Vergil and you alone in the foyer. 

     This was the first time Vergil had done something like this and you were unsure how to calm him down; so you just slowly wriggled your hand free and kneaded into the bright blue lines of your lover’s chest, “Hey,” you whispered in hopes of catching his attention, “It’s alright, Vergil.”

     His growling quieted a bit, however, his grip tightened into an almost painfully tight vice.

     A small grunting groan left your lips as you spoke again, “Vergil, we are okay. I’m okay,” you heard his growling subside further, “It’s okay, darling. We are safe, inside the Devil May Cry,” you leaned your head into his chest and kneaded harder against him, “It was just thunder. It’s okay--we are okay.”

     You continued to intermittently tell the blue devil various forms of grounding statements as he slowly calmed down; loosening his grip and quieting his thundering growl. Although he doesn’t have to breathe when in this form, you heard soft whistling as he took small short breaths in through his sharpened teeth. His shaking had subsided as well; only moving with the reverberations of his small breaths. 

     A grin tugged at your lips as you heard a small distant start of a purr from your kneading, “It’s alright, my love. Nothing is going to harm us…”

     Finally, he pulled back from your body. He placed his palms flat on the floor next to you and kept his wings around you, just much looser now. His pupil-less luminescent eyes just stared at you, leaving you to assume he was looking over your body for any sign of injury. 

     Very carefully, you moved your hands to the sides of his face and gently thumbed over the leathery denim-colored skin, “Hey…”

     He leaned forward placing his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, showing you that he was coming back around. You placed a long tender kiss against his fangs and heard him purr louder. 

     As quiet as he could manage with his distorted voice, Vergil whispered to you, “Are you okay?”

     “I’m fine,” you smiled and gently jested, “head’s killin’ me though and the floors kinda cold” you laughed and moved your hands to the gap of skin between his shoulder pauldrons and neck, kneading with your fingers, “Are you alright, Vergil?”

     Vergil nodded slightly, “Yes,” feeling the soft touch of your fingers against him, he allowed himself to de-trigger; slowly switching to his regular trigger and then his human form. All the while, you continued to massage his shoulders and tried your best to ignore the throbbing in your skull; wanting nothing more than to rip your head off. 

     The blue devil’s breath was ragged and he avoided looking you in the eyes. When he went to sit upwards, you grabbed his forearms, gaining his attention, “Vergil,” your voice was barely audible.

     After waiting a moment, Vergil cocked his head slightly, “What is it?”

     “Could,” you pursed your lips with embarrassment, “Could you help me up?”

     Vergil nodded, “Of course.”

     The eldest twin stood up and then leaned forwards to help you upright. You stumbled into him as you felt nauseously lightheaded.

     Noticing this, Vergil held one of your arms, “Steady…”

     You used your other hand to grab his shoulder and did your best to adjust to standing. He looked over to the couch and then back to you; before slowly picking you up and setting you on the pleather surface. Not wanting him to leave you, you grabbed his tie and tugged it slightly. 

     “I will be right back,” he grabbed the hand from the tan fabric and kissed it gently; which surprised you because of his distaste for out-of-house affections. 

     It was then that you noticed how quiet the shop was and how dark it was; the power had gone out completely. A loud creak from the garage door made you scrunch your face in slight pain. Vergil stood in the doorway and said nothing before moving back to stand near Dante’s desk. 

     You noticed a large cut through Dante’s shirt and realized that Vergil had used his tail to defend you from the red twin. Thankfully, Dante could heal quickly otherwise it might have been a trip to the ER from how large the incision seemed to be.

     “So care to explain what the fuck that was?” Dante’s voice was loud, as normal; however, it felt like he was shouting right beside you.

     Vergil noticed your discomfort and addressed his brother, “Quiet, you are being much too loud,” he flicked his gaze to you, “and no; I don’t.”

     The younger twin’s face scrunched in irritation. Before he could speak, Lady cut him off by roughly slamming her hand atop his shoulder, “Maybe the two of you should go home for the day? Dante can text you the information later on.”

     “Are you sure?” Vergil raised a brow at the sudden personable suggestion, “Or would Dante rather yell more absurd accusations at me?”

     The red devil growled, forgetting to keep quiet, “You son of--”

     “Watch your tongue. Mother is right here,” he flicked his eyes to the photo on Dante’s desk.

     “I fuckin--”

     You scrunched your face harshly and hoarsely snapped, “Oh my g-god,” you groaned, “Vergil isn’t beating me and I have a fuckin major headache. I thank you for your concern Dante, but it is misplaced… so can you please just drop it?”

     The younger twin shook his head, “You expect me to--”

     “It is a result of my night terrors and we are dealing with it ourselves,” Vergil said curtly, despite not wanting to talk about it. Then turned to address Lady, “I think we will take you up on that suggestion and leave,” the blue devil moved to grab your coats from the wall “Keep us informed..?"

     No one responded as Vergil handed you your coat and you put it on as best you could while sitting. You wobbled a bit as you went to stand, but, a set of strong arms picked you up. A small blush found its way to your face as you realized Vergil was carrying you from underneath your thighs in front of everyone else.

     Nero was the only one to address either of you as you headed up to the stairs, “Fly safe; winds pretty bad out there.”

     Vergil nodded in thanks to his son as the two of you disappeared from view, heading to the roof. You nestled your face into the crook of Vergil’s neck, taking a deep calming breath. It didn’t take long for you to sleep--or rather pass out--in the blue devil’s arms and it stayed that way till you got home. 

==

     When you opened your eyes next, you were laying underneath the duvet of your shared bed. Slowly blinking awake, you mumbled, “Vergil?” and felt around to see if he was nearby. Nothing.

     A hissing groan left your lips as you sat up and looked at the alarm clock. It had been several hours since you left the shop. You stretched upwards and immediately regretted it.

     “Fuck,” you groaned as you grabbed your head with one hand, the headache from earlier surged back into existence. 

     In hopes to remedy this, you decided to try taking a hot bath. The moment you stood up, however, you fell forwards and just barely caught yourself with your forearms. A small laugh of disbelief escaped through your painful groan, it was really just not your day. 

     The sound of a familiar sharp voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. You slowly moved your head upwards and saw Vergil standing above you with a wide-eyed confused stare. He was wearing a space-blue sleeveless turtleneck with black yoga pants.

     Admittedly, you weren’t exactly in a normal headspace when you cooed at the blue devil, “Ooh! You’re even prettier at this angle, Vergil.”

     The blue devil crouched in front of you and rested his forearms on his legs, “I leave you for five minutes and you end up on the floor?”

     With parted lips and raised brows, you eyed him up and down, “Was my plan all along since, from here, I get a really good view of your--”

     Vergil put up a hand telling you to stop, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Would you like help up?”

     “Nah,” you jested and rolled over to face the ceiling, “I like being stuck on the floor,” a sly smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head back, “especially when we’re--”

     “Enough,” Vergil sighed and moved to help you upright into a soft embrace. 

     You sighed and leaned into him, “You know I love you, right Vergil?”

     “Perhaps I should take you to the hospital, you are acting in a very concerning manner…” 

     “No way in hell am I going to the doctor,” you pulled back and had a small pout on your lips, “I just need you beside me and I feel much better…”

     “That seems rather counter-intuitive, don’t you think?” his voice had an outlying tinge of sadness as he looked down at you. 

     “Not in the slightest. In fact,” you moved your hands to his chest, “I already am starting to feel better in your arms.”

     He avoided your eyes and had a small sad frown. A deep sharp pang of sadness stabbed at your heart at seeing him look so dejected. 

     You used a hand to cup the cheek facing away from you and gently turned him back to face you, “Vergil, care to join me for a bath?” you knew that he was still beating himself up over things and wanted to distract him for a while.

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose as he closed his eyes in slight confusion, “What..?”

     “Come on, you need a break… to relax,” you cocked your head to the side, “Please?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

     Which seemed to do the trick as he sighed with a smirk “If that is what you want then I will accompany you.”

     You pulled his face down to yours and gave him a small peck on the cheek, “Thank you, Vergil.”

     Although the blue devil was hesitant to let you go, you eventually wander off with a very wobbly saunter. Slowly, you moved to the dresser and began to grab some clothing when you heard Vergil murmur, “I’ll go draw it up and I’ll be back for you; please try and stay upright,” then he left the room.

     Your headache had subsided for the most part and was just a dull throbbing now. However, you still wanted to lay with him for a while, knowing that he needed it as much as you did. A warm smile crept its way to your face as you moved toward the edge of the bed to sit until he came back. You decided to lean over to the side table and grab your phone, checking it for any messages. Surprisingly, Dante and Nero had texted you.

     The younger twin had sent a rather all-over-the-place paragraph explaining that he was sorry for the outburst in the shop and that he was just worried that something was going on. You sent Dante a text explaining that it was nice of him to worry but that, before he goes off, he needs to listen better.

     Nero was making sure that both of you were alright and that if either of you needed anything to let him know. 

     Before you were able to respond, Vergil walked back into the room, “Are you ready?” his voice was very quiet and meek; catching you off guard.

     “Yeah just gimme one second, just gotta send this…” Vergil looked at you with a slightly curious head tilt, you smiled at him, “Nero was just making sure everything was okay.”

     “I see,” Vergil gave a weak grin.

     “Nero’s worried about you,” you set the phone back down on the table and grabbed one of Vergil’s hands, “He’s a good kid, ya know? You’re one lucky dad.”

      With a small shake of his head, Vergil pulled you off the bed, “Need I remind you that he is technically your son, too?”

     You laughed and pursed your lips, “Sometimes I forget that part if I’m honest,” the two of you slowly made your way to the bathroom, “Especially since we are like the same age--you cougar,” with a playful wink you let go of Vergil’s hand to get undressed.

     Vergil’s face scrunched, “You make it sound as if I am too old for you.”

     Playfully, you shoved his shoulder, “Bah- you don’t look a day over 30; besides,” you paused a moment as you watched Vergil remove his shirt, “I like older men~”

     “Those two statements contradict each other,” he noticed your gaze as he slid his pants off, “However, I appreciate the sentiment.”

     Once you both were fully stripped, Vergil helped you into the tub; fearing you would fall, “Hey, Vergil..?” he looked at you, “Can you sit in, like,” with pursed lips, you tried to figure out how to explain what you wanted, “in my lap? Like with your back to me?”

     “I-” he raised a brow and turned his lips to a thin line, “May I ask why?”

     A smile ghosted your face as you cooed, “I want to be able to play with your hair.”

     The blue devil was a little apprehensive at allowing such an action, but he did as you requested; positioning himself in front of you. His shoulders tensed up at the sudden feeling of vulnerability and being so exposed to you--even if the two of you have been together for a long time now. Noticing this, you gently wrapped your arms around his middle and leaned him back into you while you leaned back yourself; ending up in a semi-lying position. 

     Tenderly, you ran your fingers through his neatly slicked back locks, “You alright, Vergil?”

     With a small stuttering inhale, Vergil rested further against you, “Yes…”

     A faint purring came from the blue devil as he relaxed against your touch. The two of you just sat in the warm soapy water for nearly fifteen minutes, laying against each other. 

     Vergil shifted a bit to lay the side of his head on your chest before meekly whispering, “I love you,” typically, this would have made you ecstatic hearing him say such a thing; but there was an underlying sullen tone to the phrase. 

     You moved one of your hands to grab his while keeping up your ministrations through his hair, “I love you too, Vergil--more than anything.”

     “May I ask you something? And I want you to answer me honestly,” his eyes were glued to your fingers that were intertwined with his own.

     “Sure,” you removed your fingers from his hair and set that hand on his shoulder.

     “Are,” with each word his voice became quieter, “Are you afraid of me?”

     “No,” you answered without skipping a beat, “I will never be afraid of you, no matter what...”

     Another bout of silence fell as you felt him lean harder into you while taking slow deep breaths.

     “May--,” the Dark Slayer closed his eyes and spoke in a hushed voice, “May I confide in you for a moment?”

     “Of course, my love,” you leaned and kissed the top of his head attempting to reassure the man. 

     He sighed and turned further into your chest, hiding his face, “N-Nothing scares me more than causing you pain,” you felt his brow furrow, “These past few months, have been spurred on by a combination of that fear and,” he had a lump begin to form in his throat, “and my time spent under Mundus’s…” he swallowed audibly in an attempt to deter his emotions.

     You squeezed his hand tightly and you moved your other hand back to his hair, hoping to console him a bit. 

     Which worked, he took a shuddering breath and continued, “In my dreams--” he pursed his lips and unintentionally pushed himself as hard as he could into you, “I’m always back as- and I can’t,” he paused once more, realizing that this is much harder than he had anticipated, “control myself and I-I don’t know that it’s-- until it’s too late,” his voice cracked into silence as he gripped your hand in a vice hold. 

     That was enough for you to put together what he meant as your eyes widened. You whispered and moved your hand from his hair to his shoulder, holding him close, “Vergil…” you didn’t know what to do--how to help him.

     All you could think to do was to hold him close and comfort him as he cried into your chest. You knew that he had nightmares about his time of being enslaved to Mundus and the other atrocities that have happened to the poor blue devil. Throughout your time together, Vergil had told you about that time and has even sought comfort in you when he was upset. 

     A meek whisper pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m sorry,” he sighed heavily, “I know this is substandard behavior.”

     “Vergil,” you kneaded his bicep, “This is normal behavior, you don’t have to be strong all the time,” placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, you murmured, “You’re human--you have emotions; both good and bad.”

     “I feel as if I have disappointed you,” despite his sad tone, a light purring could be heard from him--indicating he was at least comfortable.

     “You could never disappoint me, Vergil--especially over something like this. Things take time to heal and even then they still leave scars; you aren’t to blame for what has happened, my love.”

     “I do not understand how after what I have done in my lifetime,” his voice cracked with a tinge of frustration as he sat upright. His front side was facing out of the tub toward the innards of the room,  leaving you to see his side profile, “Why you still believe me to be a good person…”

     “Vergil,” you moved to sit up as well, no longer resting your back on the tub, “I don’t believe that you are a good person; I know you are a good person,” you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his emotions again, “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

     A thin pained grin adorned his features as he turned his face from you; hiding the fact he had begun to cry once more.

     “People do bad things,” you shrugged your shoulders a bit in thought, “that doesn’t make them a bad person. Traumatic experiences make people do things that otherwise might not have.” you paused and thought for a moment, “Vergil, you have been punished ten-fold by everyone your entire life, even for things that you had no control over. Which is total shit. You deserve to be treated well and like a living breathing person. I know you are a good person because you have shown me that many times over; you are worthy of love, Vergil.”

     Vergil let out a loud shuttering exhale and turned his head to look at you with pursed lips. He wanted to say something, anything, but all he could muster was a small whimper of acknowledgment. 

     Moving to your knees, you spoke softly, “Is there anything that I can do to help you with these nightmares?”

     “I,” after a small pause in thought, he turned to come face to face with you and grabbed your hands in his, “Could you promise me something?”

     “Anything.”

     “If we get into any altercations with,” he avoided your eyes with an increasing embarrassment eating the edges of his mind, “Angelo-type demons, please, leave them to me; please..?”

     Your brow twitched in confusion as you cocked your head to the side; that’s when things clicked and you remembered what happened shortly before these terrors began, “Sure, if that is what brings you solace then I will,” you smiled, trying to make him feel a little better.

     “Thank you,” his eyes re-connected with yours and he gave a small smirk.

     The two of you sat for a brief moment before you pursed your lips and smiled semi-awkwardly, “I hate to ruin the moment, but could we get out of the water? I’m kinda cold…”

     Vergil straightened his posture and nodded, “Of course, wanderer,” he moved to get out of the water and held his hands out for yours.

     You grabbed them and wobbly got up, “Oh? I haven’t heard you use that in a long time.”

     A small huffed laugh came from the blue devil as he handed you a towel, “It was the first nickname I gave you. I thought it appropriate for the moment…”

     “It was wasn’t it?” you shook your head, “That feels like a lifetime ago…”

     “In a sense, it was quite literally,” he leaned over and drained the tub.

     With a small laugh and nod, you finished drying off. While the two of you got dressed, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your lover. 

     “Is something wrong?” Vergil noticed your stare.

     Pursing your lips you thought for a moment and decided to indulge in his love for Blake’s poems, “ 'Joy & Woe are woven fine,/A Clothing for the Soul divine;/Under every grief & pine,/Runs a joy with silken twine.' "

     An amused look adorned his face as he stood with parted lips thinking for a moment, “Auguries of Innocence?” the Dark Slayer cupped the side of your face, “We never did finish that poem; you’d always fall asleep.”

     “Not my fault you have such a soothing voice,” you placed your hands on his chest and leaned into his palm, “Want to try again?”

     He leaned against your forehead, “If it is alright with you, I think I’d rather sleep…”

     “Only if you stay beside me,” you looked into his icy eyes; enamored with the thousands of different blue-grey hues, “please..?”

     “Are you sure-- Mnm,” he was cut off by a sudden connection of your lips.

     It was a slow and passionate kiss as you poured all the love you could into that one moment. Once satisfied, you left the kiss and whispered against his lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vergil.”

     Without another word, he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. Carefully, he set you down and crawled into bed with you. A small lingering sense of dread crept in from the edges of his mind; however, those were pushed away when you laid atop his chest. You curled into him and he tangled his limbs with yours.

     As the two of you drifted off to sleep, Vergil had a very small content grin as he allowed himself to sleep; knowing that, at least for tonight, his terrors will be kept at bay. 

==

Ending Notes: Sorry that was lowkey all over the place, I just went with the flow of my brain. It kind of just ended up being a long fluff fic.  Also to add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Poem quoted:      Auguries of Innocence: William Blake

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

A Recipe for Disaster (Chap. 8)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7 | AO3

Here's Chap. 8! Clocking in at 19.5 pages on google docs this time, we have Steve and Robin's meeting with Parliament about the children's shelter, the throne room scene that I somehow missed before, and a good ol' Robin and Eddie interaction (plus much more!!!)

The next morning, Steve and Robin are sitting down for a meeting with a select few members of Parliament. Wayne is there with them, and Steve thinks it’s giving him a chance to look mean, if nothing else.

“And so, gentlemen, the winter palace in the mountains of Libbet will be converted into a children’s shelter until money can be raised for one of their own.”

“The use of the castle as a resort is a sort of…perk. For parliament members and dignitaries.” the member sitting on his left (on Robin’s other side) interjects, the other two agreeing with short nods and hushed “Agreed.”s. 

“Well, I’m going to de-perk it.” Steve levels him with a look that has him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I feel guilty having two homes while they have none.”

He hears one of the other members whispering from his right and snaps his attention toward the other two. “Lord Crawley, how is your brother doing?” 

Crawley has the decency to look embarrassed for being caught, “I–I don’t speak to my brother, Your Highness.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve hired him to be the lead architect on the project!” Steve smiles. Wayne raises his hand and the doorman lets Mr. Crawley into the chambers.

Mr. Crawley greets Wayne when he pulls out the seat kitty-corner to Steve’s. Steve stands and shakes his hand “Your highness, gentlemen.”

They both sit, and Mr. Crawley gives his (twin) brother a curt “Jerry.” that his brother echoes with “Dean.”

“I am very excited to get started, your highness, and to get your notes on the project!...and no one else’s.”

That last bit of backhanded commentary gets Lord Crawley riled up and the two start bickering between themselves, and over the unfortunate third parliament member stuck between them.

Steve leans toward Robin while keeping his eyes on the two, whispering “Nevermind, I’m glad we aren’t twins?”

She snorts out a quick laugh and busies herself with her notes, though he’s sure they’re as immaculate as always.

He raps his knuckles on the table in front of him as the twins’ fight reaches its peak, and the two back off instantly, looking sheepish.

“The queen approves of the plan, and I intend to see it through. Now, gentlemen, I’m sure it won’t take too long to raise the money, do you?” 

–

“So, you kissed Eddie, huh?” Robin asked once they were heading back to get Steve ready for his and Joyce’s scheduled open meeting with the public.

Steve sighs, “Yeah, I did. We did? We kinda kissed each other at the same time.”

“So…? How’d you even get close enough to kiss?”

“I uh…” He scratches the back of his head absently “I told him how I felt. About him.”

“That you have capital “F” feelings for him right? That’s what you said yesterday.”

He lets out a long breath and stops walking. He looks down at the tile at his feet, hands on his hips. “That’s…not exactly..all of it.”

“What do you mean ‘not all of it’?? You have big Feelings for him, that seems like a whole lot.”

“It is all big, real, Feelings, but…I saw our whole lives together, Rob.” it’s just barely more than a whisper.

Robin is quiet for a few seconds “Steve, that’s–” 

She’s cut off by the incoming sound of footsteps. They both look over, and let out a synchronized breath of relief. It’s only Murray. 

“Oh! Murray!” Robin jogs up to meet the man, saying something to him that Steve couldn’t pick up. Murray nods the whole time, assuringly, then pats Robin on the shoulder and continues on his way.

“Good morning, sir!” is all he says to Steve as he passes, then Robin is back.

“What was all that about?”

“I just needed to ask him about some other Royal Advisor shit I’ve been working on, but keep going! You haven’t told me about these prophetic visions of the future you’ve been seeing! Does Eddie become a silver fox? Do you eventually go bald?”

Steve’s hands fly to his hair, “Oh my god, Robin, don’t say shit like that! You’ll curse me!” he starts walking toward his suite again. 

“Oh please, you’ll be fine, your grandpa had a full head of hair on his deathbed. Now tell meee!”

“Okay, okay, so back when Nancy first got here, I told her the truth, that I got a big ol’ crush on tall, dark, and handsome after one dance but then found out that he and his dad are trying to run me out so that had crushed me.”

“Duh.”

“So she asked me if I could see myself with him, and I told her no. Y’know, like a liar.”

“Sounds about right.”

“But I saw it so clearly as soon as she asked me, and it was like my chest caught fire.”

“Thinking about yours and Eddie’s possible future together gave you heartburn?”

“No, no, like, okay, at my peeping tom moment, as you like to call it, it felt like something sparked in my chest; and I, of course, took that as hatred.”

“Yeah, ‘how dare he be a real person with a real hobby’.” She nods.

Steve snaps his finger at her. “Exactly. So when she asked me that, that spark that ended up not being hatred started burning so hot…and I could see it all, Robin. I could see him off to the side at my coronation, smiling all proud at me. I could see him at my side when we’d meet with the public. We, Robin, side by side. And I could picture the portrait they’d have painted of us, a little older, some gray in our hair, sure, hanging right beside Joyce and Bob.

“I told Nancy I couldn’t see it, and the day of the garden party I told Eddie that I’d lied to her, that I really could see it all, but that I’d be wiping my hands of him.” He does the same fake during his hands off movement he did that day.

“So…in essence, you told him you could very clearly picture a life with him, AKA you have big sappy feelings for him, then that you hated him.” They’d arrived back at his suite, so Robin lets herself in and holds the door open for him. 

“No, I–” Steve runs his hand through his hair. “Okay, yeah, basically. But when I went to leave, he grabbed my arm, whirled me around, and we kissed.

“We were pressed together, and it was like my brain switched off completely, not a thought in my head. We both started leaning toward each other..then it happened.”

“Ew gross, this is so sappy.” Robin flopped herself onto his bed and pillowed her chin in her hands, looking up at him to continue.

Steve rolls his eyes, but does. “Here's something else cliche and sappy: I know what they mean now when they say there are fireworks sometimes, when you kiss someone.” He laughs at Robin’s mimed puking. “I’m serious! His lips were soft, his hands were calloused and warm, and…and he held my face like I was something precious. Something worth holding onto.

“But then I came to my senses, pushed him off me, causing him to fall backwards into that damn fountain, causing me to fall when I tried to catch him, giving me a bruise, a soaking wet, nearly see-through suit, and a litany of “Prince Steve” fanpages posting zoomed-in pictures of my crotch.”

“All that, and you still almost kissed him again yesterday.” She shakes her head at him in exasperation.

“Oh! And he told me that he wished he could know what I’m working with, so I guess you were right, he does have feelings for me too.”

“That’s great!”

“Only sexual though, seems like. Which is fine, I get it. Just. Sucks, you know?”

Robin starts grumbling under her breath at that, so he leaves her be and starts getting ready to meet with the public. This time he pulls out the powder blue version of what is becoming his signature pear-tree printed suit.

“You should get ready too, you’re going with me to the throne room, right?”

She jumps up from the bed “Oh yeah! Meet you there, Dingus!” Then she was gone.

–

“We will have someone come to your farm tomorrow morning and perhaps we can repair your well, and save your feed.” Joyce addresses the man stooped down in front of her. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He bows his head, then reaches for the basket at his knees “This is for your table.”

“Thank you!” Joyce says, bowing slightly in return and sweeping her hand out for the footman at their side to take the basket.

While the basket is taken away, Steve grabs a goblet of water from behind them, and passes it to his Aunt. “You do this so well, they all just adore you.”

She takes the goblet thankfully, looking up at him from the throne when she does. “Oh, well it’s part of a long-standing Genovian tradition to meet with the citizens this way. You must be fair and very honest. Even if you can’t help, you have to show the people you care.”

Steve smiles at her “We haven’t had time to talk much lately, can we after this?”

Joyce’s face softens, and she reaches up to pat his cheek. “Of course my dear.”

Murray introduces the next citizen then, and Steve takes the water back from Joyce.

Steve looks out over the throne room, over the waiting line of citizens, and all the way over to the wall on his right where a few chairs have been set up. All of them are occupied: Robin is sitting in the first chair, texting furiously with one hand at her side and writing down something in the pad of paper on her knee with the other. Wayne is in the next, struggling to stay awake already and starting to lean onto Eddie who’s in the next chair over. Eddie’s already been looking at Steve every time he risks a glance to the other man, and every time Steve has to think about literally anything else to keep the blush off his face. Eddie’s father is here too for some godforsaken reason, but makes a good foil for his reaction to Eddie. Get flustered about Eddie? Just look over to the last chair in the row and remember what Eddie’s really doing here.

The constant high to low mood shift is giving him a headache.

More citizens come through the line, each offering something for the royal family. It’s very touching, having each of these people put together the best of their best, likely from their families own crop, own shop, own hands for Joyce. Steve feels even more so like he has a lot to live up to, coming into the throne after someone as beloved as her.

“Citizen Tiny Duvall.” Murray announces once again.

Okay, that’s just not fair. Only movies name obviously very large people ‘Tiny’.

“Your Majesty.” Tiny beams at Joyce, not from below, but at her level. Seated a couple steps up from the floor, her height in the throne leaves her and Tiny, who is kneeling, at the same eye level.

“Bonjour, Tiny.” She smiles “May I present my nephew, Prince Steve.” She’s done this with a couple of the citizens who’ve visited, calling out his presence at her side for a reason unknown to Steve.

“Prince Steve,” Tiny turns his bright eyes to him and gives a small head bow.

“Monsieur.” Steve greets in return.

“Thank you for seeing me today. Something for your table.” He pushes the covered basket in his hands to Steve, who gestures the same way he had for all the other offerings, and the footman takes the basket from Tiny.

“She’s my favorite!” Tiny declares, and Steve immediately needs to know more. “I hope you like omelets.”

Steve glances at Joyce and huffs out a short chuckle, “Uh, may I?” He asks Tiny, gesturing to the basket.

“Of course!” He nods excitedly so Steve pulls back the cover and..it’s a chicken? “Be careful.”

“Oh, it’s a chicken!” whatever it is that possesses Steve to try and pick the chicken (an animal he’s had exactly zero interactions with in the past) up out of the basket, he doesn’t know, but he does. And the chicken flaps out of his arms and to the floor.

‘Oh what the hell?’ He steps forward and tries to grab it back up, and misses, and misses again, and again. It’s stupid fat, feathery body is staying just out of his reach, and causing chaos in her wake.

She’s climbing up the steps in front of Joyce and Steve thinks ‘I’ve got you now’ as she slows down to hop up the marble steps.

Just his luck, he misses her (again) and she starts off on her circular path through the corridor behind the throne (once again). But he can’t follow the feathery warlord, being caught by Joyce as he lopes past her.

“Uh, Steve?” She says to him through a grin, and he turns to her “a prince should never chase a chicken.”

Steve stands there next to Joyce, jaw dropped open, and wholly embarrassed, and looks over to where Eddie is seated.

Viscount Muñoz is chuckling heartily and elbowing Eddie, who is laughing uncomfortably at his father, but looks to Steve and they lock eyes

‘You okay?’ Eddie mouths to him, a lighthearted, still teasing, smile on his face.

The tension in Steve’s chest snaps and falls away at that and he lets out a breath, giving Eddie a small nod.

–

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, what the fuck, Steve?” Steve mutters to himself all the way back to his suite after the throne room debacle.

He showers to get out all the gel he’d slicked into his hair previously, and fixes it up the way he would normally. After he changes into a plain white tee and some jeans, he texts Robin and asks her to meet him for a late lunch. 

It’s already past three in the afternoon and he hadn’t had anything to eat since a quick cup and coffee and some toast before his first meeting this morning.

Robin texts him back with: ‘Sorry Dingus, I have Super Important Things™ to catch up on, I will see you for dinner?’

He’s disappointed, but not surprised. She does, afterall, have her own responsibilities within the palace. 

He sends back a ‘sure, see ya then bobs’, and continues down to the kitchens. 

This time it’s Max, El, and Dustin he encounters, all of them munching on whatever snacks they could find while Max is chopping what looks like salad ingredients.

“Yeah, but Max, Lucas plays and–” Dustin starts

“What does that have to do with me playing? I don’t care what he does or doesn’t play.”

“I would like to play some time.” Ellie says, and Dustin starts in on an explanation of character creation? If Steve had to guess?

“Hey, munchkins, what’s cookin’?”

Max rolls her eyes so hard that her whole head almost goes with them. “Well, dad, nothing at the moment. Seeing as how I am chopping up lettuce, that historically does not get cooked.”

Steve pauses, then turns to face El and Dustin more. “Hey, munchkins, what’s cookin’?”

El and Dustin both laugh while Max rolls her eyes again. “Careful, those might roll out of your head one of these days.” Steve tells her.

“See?” She points her knife at him, looking at the other two “Dad.”

“I was just telling El about creating a character for the campaign Eddie’s crafting right now.” Dustin puts his hand out onto El’s forearm and Steve notices her face go red

“Oh that’s cool what are–El, you oka–��� Max clears her throat and locks eyes with Steve before using them to gesture to the other two, shaking her head.

Ah. “So what kind of character are you going to make?”

“I thought I could be a wizard, like Will.”

“Oh, that’d be cool! I wonder if Eddie would let us get away with boosting yours and Will’s stats whenever you are casting together? Like, real wonder twin wizards!”

Dustin starts on a rant about all the possibilities and starts scribbling into the notebook in front of him.

Steve shuffles off to the side and pulls out a pack of tuna and some mayo, planning on just a sandwich for now, to hold him over until dinner with Robin.

He fixes it up and heads back up the stairs, eating as he goes, to meet Joyce at her suite.

–

So the scream he’d heard, and came to investigate, ended up being El Hopper. 

He’d come around the corner below the two staircases in the ballroom like he does nearly every day after waking up, only to be confronted with shadow and a new wall?

He comes out from under what he now can see is a ramp, and sees each of the teens taking turns sliding down a massive slide on mattresses, each sliding to a stop just before a short stage set up on the opposite end of the ballroom.

He looks to the top of the ramp, and Dustin is the next to go, El getting up off her mattress and moving out of his way. “You having fun?” he yells up.

“Eddie! Hang on, I'll be right down!” Dustin calls back then starts down the ramp.

“You.” his head snaps to his left and Steve’s right hand woman is in his face. “I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, Buckley, go ahead.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but then Dustin’s there “Hey! Are you going to stay for the party?”

“No he’s not, he’s here cause I needed to talk to him then he’s going right back to his room.” Robin grabs his arm and tugs him out the glass side door of the ballroom (“Aw, what?”).

“Ow, ow okay, I’m right here, lay off the arm.”

She lets his arm go. “Enough chit chat, listen to me Edwin, (“Edmund.” “Literally doesn’t matter.”), I am only telling you this out of necessity and to get you to understand my point BUT.” She takes a deep breath, “Steve is really into you, okay? His words exactly were that he has capital “F” Feelings for you.”

Eddie knew the former, but the actual feelings part is news to him.

“I–”

“He was under the impression previously that you were only trying to get close to him in order to get him to not marry Nancy, and in turn not become King. And from what he told me, it seems like you really are only thirsting after him.”

“He said th–”

Robin cuts him off. “He would do anything to see this through, including ignoring his own feelings for quote, unquote ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ for the sake of the homophobes above him.”

“The homophobes? What are you talking about?”

“Parliament, obviously. He’s marrying Nancy because they don’t think having two kings is good for the country.” She says as if it’s obvious. “They told him that he has to marry a noblewoman in order to take the throne, otherwise they’ll give it to you. You, sans partner.”

“Wh-what? Why?”

“I don’t know, Doofus, he thinks you’re 170 pounds of pure sex appeal.”

“No, no not that,” Eddie shakes his head and waves her off, “I mean, I’m flattered, and obviously he’s sexy as fuck (“Okay, ew.”), but no, I mean why would Parliament let me take the throne without a partner but not Steve.”

“Probably the previously mentioned ‘homophobe’ part, Edward. Do they not know you’re fruity too?”

Eddie shakes his head, “Don’t see why they would…”

“Well they do know about Steve. There was a whole media fiasco with his old best friend back in the states.”

Eddie’s stunned at this revelation, but Robin barrels on. “So as much as I would support you two in any other circumstances, I–”

“Robin, I have capital “F” Feelings for him too.” Eddie cuts her off.

She just stares at him, dumbfounded, so he continues. “Look, the day before yesterday, Steve told me he could so easily picture our lives together when Nancy once asked him.” Eddie starts pacing in front of the ballroom door. “He told me that he lied to her, said he couldn’t, but that he actually pictured it so clearly. He didn’t tell me what he saw, but I could see it, Rob. I could see it so clearly.”

“What are you talking about, Edith?”

“I was in the gardens that day when Nancy asked him that. I was sitting out there like I normally do and could hear them as they walked by. She asked him “You could see yourself with him, couldn’t you?” and it was like she was asking me. I could see it as soon as she asked.

“I could see myself at his coronation, smiling all proud at him. I could see myself at his side in the throne room when he’d meet with the citizens, at his side at any number of random events that flashed through my head all at once…just..being with him.

“He told me he saw us together so clearly, and I never told him that I saw it too. It felt like my chest was on fire, Robin.”

He is breathing heavily now, having winded himself with all that.

“Eddie…” Robin steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Finally Eddie now, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck, Theodore.”

“Theodore?? How the hell did you get to that from ‘Eddie’?”

“You know, Theodore can be Ted, to Teddy, to Eddie.” She shrugs.

“Okay, you got me there Robert.”

Robert smiles at him. “You both are the dingiest dinguses I’ve ever met.” She coos at him, like he’s a child and it works, he barks out a real laugh this time and tosses her hand off his shoulder.

“Are you guys done, yet? Can we steal Eddie back?” Dustin poked his head out the door, scowling at them.

“Almost, I promise. I’ll meet you back inside Dusty-buns.” Eddie replies

“Dude, gross. Only my mom calls me that.” but he goes back inside.

“What am I supposed to do now Robin?”

“I don’t know…I wanted to get you to back the fuck off, but now I’m kinda rooting for you guys. As undeniably a bad idea it’d be.”

“You are?”

“I don’t know, I think you’d be good together, sue me.”

“Then why root against us in the first place?”

“Because I want my best friend to become King! No offense.”

“None taken. I don’t even want it anymore.” Eddie thinks for a moment. “What about Nancy?”

“What about her?”

“How does she feel about all this?”

Robert thinks for a moment then opens the door and yells “Hey, Nance!”

Eddie panics, “Robin, what the hell??”

“Hi Robin, what’s…up…” Nancy stalls when she sees Eddie outside too. He gives her a small wave.

“Eddie’s fully, actually in love with Steve.”

“Robin! What the fuck?!”

Nancy looks between Robin and Eddie (who is absolutely mortified, by the way), then dissolves into giggles.

“Okay, what the hell is happening, this is like some Twilight Zone shit.”

“Steve is pretty great, isn’t he?” Nancy says, looking at Eddie.

He drops his head in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I promise I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Who ever does?”

Eddie looks back up at her and she’s smiling softly at him. “Okay, seriously, what the hell is happening right now? You should be wanting to fight me right now.”

“Do you want me to?” Nancy says and starts pushing the sleeves of her sweater up her arms.

Robin keels over in laughter when Eddie starts backing away, hands raised.

“So? Robin?” Nancy asks

Robin catches her breath, “So, they both have real feelings for each other and after telling me, Eddie here asked how you feel about the whole thing.”

Nancy nods with a sigh. “Eddie, I care for Steve very much. He’s become a great friend and supporter to me, even in the short amount of time I’ve known him.”

“But…?”

“I am not in love with him. I have feelings for someone else.” Eddie nods, and she continues. “I am still going to marry him, if he needs me.”

“That’s kinda fucked.”

“It is; I agree, Robin agrees, Steve agrees. But I wouldn’t be if I didn’t think Steve would be an amazing ruler. Do you even know how great he’d be?”

“I do.” Robin says.

“We know you do, Robs.” Nancy pats her on the arm. “Steve is the grandson of the most beloved ruler in recent Genovian history, and the son of a royal pain in the ass.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Eddie mumbles.

“Steve is more like Stephan the First, and would be a welcome and needed change in the landscape of European monarchs. A vibrant young man of the people, someone who’s made mistakes like any person would, had them blasted across international media, and grown from them since. Overall, a great representation of the next generation of rulers. Plus, I think he’s a good influence on, and role model for, Mike, and will make him a better ruler in the future.”

Nancy smiles an easy smile, as if she didn’t just make him fall in love with Steve more.

“All that, and you’re telling me you’re not in love with him?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Okay, great. Now what am I supposed to do with that?”

“As much as I want Steve to be happy, with you or not, there is so much that could go wrong with you two being together, even the smallest thing could make his life a living hell.

“If he and I marry, then divorce in a few years, we can both have what we want. I can be with Jon–the person I want to be with–and so can he.”

“So when you say a few years, how many are we talking? Two? Three?”

“Unless the peanut gallery gets real cool about a lot of things real quick, sounds like as many as it takes.” Robin says.

“I fully believe you and Steve would have the support of the people, or at least the majority, but they can’t do anything to sway Parliament if they don’t want to be swayed.” 

Eddie nods as he processes all this, even pulling a lock of his hair over his face to worry the strands between his fingers as he thinks.

He stops, fixes his hair, turns to the two women and says: “I will wait for him if I need to. Steve’s worth it.” The two women beam at him, “But let's get back inside before Dustin has a conniption. What are we–you guys–celebrating anyway?”

“We are throwing a surprise bachelor party for Steve!” Robin pushes open the door and holds it for the other two.

“And joint bachelorette party for me too I suppose, but it was just because I’m not heading back home anymore.” Nancy shrugs “I’d rather be with you guys here anyway. Oh! We should’ve invited Chrissy!”

Robin starts spluttering and Nancy catches Eddie’s eye and winks. 

He grins back at her “You’re absolutely right, Nancy, I should give her a call!” He pulls out his cell and Robin goes completely red. “Eddie! How are you?” Chrissy answers his call after a few short rings.

–

Steve and Joyce have spent the last couple hours together; talking about everything and nothing while Joyce took care of some things first, then they went out for a stroll through the yards of the palace. 

He told her about Dustin knowing that Mike played D&D (“I don’t know any specifics, so don’t ask.”) immediately after meeting the young prince, and that he seems to be less high-strung and less entitled now, having been around Dustin and Will.

She told him that the coronation is scheduled for August 1st, two months to the day after he and Nancy are supposed to be married. 

He told her that he thinks Ellie has a crush on Dustin, and Joyce laughs giddily at that (“Oh, they would be so cute together!”)

She asks him if he is happy.

Steve processes that for a bit, while they walk back to the palace. “I think I am content. I am happy with what I have, I know that I really lucked out with Nancy, and having Robin here, meeting Dustin and gaining a little brother. But I don’t think I would say I am happy, you know?”

She nods in understanding at that, then asks “Would you be able to say you are happy if it was Edmund you were marrying, and not Nancy?”

He blinks at her, but it seems like she’s actually asking (not that Joyce would be capable of showing a hint of malice to her nephew). “I don’t know…” Is what he finally says.

She levels him with a look like she doesn’t believe him.

“I don’t though!” he defends, “Really! I don’t know him so I really don’t know. But in my head, best case scenario, yeah. I think I would be.” the last part comes out almost a whisper.

She nods, taking that in, and they walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way. 

“Wait, what is that? Steve can hear muffled music coming from the palace as they approach.

He looks through the glass doors and sees…everyone? The whole Party (as Dustin would call them) running amok in the ballroom. Erica is chasing Max around the room on rollerskates, Max on top of a well-loved looking skateboard, Will and Ellie are trying to take razor scooters off short plastic ramps, and the ramp had been set up from the upper level, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Eddie(??) are all taking turns sliding down on mattresses. Nancy, Robin, and Chrissy are lying about on two of the mattresses in front of a short stage, and there are tables piled high with snacks and drinks and sandwiches on one side of the stage, and a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the opposite side.

Steve is flabbergasted, “Are they having a slumber party?” he laughs. Joyce steps back from the doors then, pulling one open and stepping in, Steve close behind

Eddie’s gaze catches on Joyce and Steve as they enter, he and Dustin are standing on their mattress (halfway down already), trying to surf their way to the bottom. It seems like he straightens on instinct and the movement causes Dustin to faceplant onto the mattress, and Eddie to flop backward off the mattress and onto the metal ramp. His head connects with the slide with a resounding gong and he slides down the rest of the way on his back.

Steve rushes forward to help him up, which Eddie refuses. “That was embarrassing. You can just leave me here to die, your highness.”

Steve rolls his eyes and offers his hand again, which Eddie takes and allows Steve to haul him up off the floor. “No dying on my ballroom floor, Muñoz.” Steve says, keeping Eddie pulled into his chest for a moment before releasing him and moving over to Dustin to make sure he was alright.

“Eddie, what the hell we almost had th–” Dustin looks up to see Joyce smiling at him, “Your majesty, my apologies for my language.”

Steve stifles a laugh behind his hand. 

“It’s quite alright Mr. Henderson, may I take a turn next?”

Everyone falls silent at that. “Y-yeah, of course ma’am, let me bring it up for you!” Dustin picks up the mattress excitedly and rushes up the stairs with it, Joyce following behind. 

Everyone else stops to watch whatever it is that’s about to happen. 

Joyce gets to the top, Dustin having set the mattress up right at the edge of the slide. Then she stands on it. Like she is going to surf the mattress down.

“Is she really going to do this?” Robin says, having come up to Steve’s side.

“Uh…” is all he gets out before, yep, there she goes. Joyce jumps forward a bit onto the front of the mattress to get it going, arms out, and slides. Standing, all the way to the bottom.

“Ta da!”

The ballroom erupts into cheers and the teens crowd close around Joyce, fully in awe at what she was able to do, and Dustin (and Eddie) weren't.

“I tried that like 15 times! How do you know how to do that?!”

“That was incredible! You’re the coolest!”

All of them talking over one another until, “I grew up here, you know; my father, my brother and I all loved to surf down and see who could make it the furthest.”

They again all started talking over each other, until “Alright, you goblins, let Queen Joyce take her leave. We have the rest of the party to get to, now that Steve’s here.” Robin herded them away from Joyce, who climbed back up the stairs to her quarters with a wave to the rest. 

“Okay, so what’s happening now?”

“Surprise! It’s your bachelor party!” Robin throws her arms out to gesture at the room around them. “We set it up while you were gone with Joyce!”

“I said we should’ve gotten you some strippers but Robin said no.” Mike interjects

“Ew, gross dude, it’s Nancy’s party too.”

“Then she should’ve gone home like she planned to, Max.”

“ANYWAY.” Robin cut off their bickering. “It’s Steve’s bachelor party and it is what it is because I know Steve and this is what he’d want. We’ve got the ramp set up, music, sandwiches and snacks that yes, you can have now that he’s here, and 80s/90s karaoke. A Steve Party.” she shrugs at the end.

They all look toward Steve when she’s done, and he’s beaming. His face hurts already, but he couldn’t stop if he tried. “What are you all looking at me for, go wild!” He shoos them all away and they do just that, most of them going for the food now that they can. “Just don’t hurt yourselves! Max, I’m looking at you, no skateboarding down the ramp I swear to god.” Steve follows them to the food.

–

“So who’s gonna get karaoke started?” Eddie asks the gathered masses, all sprawled out on the mattresses piled in front of the stage with their snacks and sandwiches.

“You said it, now it’s gotta be you.” Max snarks back, not looking up from her phone.

“It’s all old stuff anyway, we aren’t going to know much.” Erica says from Max's side. ‘Hoo boy that is a dangerous combo’ Eddie thinks to himself

“It’s not that old!” Steve says, half mock, half actually offended. “You’ll probably know some of them.”

It was definitely a surprise when Steve’d decided to plop himself down next to Eddie, but a welcome one (though he could do without the looks Chrissy had been throwing at the two of them).

Speaking of, Eddie looks over to Chrissy, who’s a couple bodies down, sitting on the floor in front of Robin.

“Chrissy!” She looks over at him and he raises her eyebrow “Shall we?”

Grinning brightly, she pops up from the floor “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

“Okay, hold on. What was that, should we be worried? I’m worried.” Steve is looking between the two as they hop up on stage, effectively pulling the attention of the others, who look up at him and Chrissy expectantly.

“You all will know this one, it’s mine and Chrissy’s go-to song.”

The first two notes is all it takes before everyone around them is screaming.

“Hiya, Barbie.”

“Hi Ken!”

They all start yelling along to Eddie and Chrissy’s absolutely amazing rendition of Barbie girl, and once they’re done, all the teens are fighting over who gets to go next.

“Really? Barbie Girl?” Steve asks when he sits back down.

Eddie shrugs, “Yeah, it’s a real ice breaker, but it’s also the only karaoke you’ll get out of me, so I hope you enjoyed that.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great.” Steve smiles a megawatt smile at him and Eddie almost forgets how to breathe.

After a double hit of ABBA (“Dancing Queen” from Max and El, and “Super Trouper” from Nancy, the rest of them unable to resist providing the backup vocals), “Should I Stay or Should I Go” from Will (and Jonathan who’d wandered in at some point and decided to stay), “Don’t Stop Believin’” from Lucas and Dustin, “All Star” from Mike, and a super impassioned “Man, I Feel Like a Woman” from Erica that had everyone singing along, Steve took a turn.

The plain white tee and jeans combo really added to his performance of “Dancing in the Dark”, looking every bit the part of Springsteen. Eddie wanted to eat him.

“Okay that’s not fair, Springsteen’s so in your register. Not gonna do anything daring, Stevie?”

Steve’d been about to put the mic down, but raised a brow at Eddie’s taunt and raised it back to his mouth. “Okay, you little shit.” he punches something into the machine and…

“Can anybody find me somebody to love?” Just in that one line he’d proven his point, his voice shifting through the whole opening line’s highest and lowest notes with no effort at all.

He sings the rest of the song effortlessly, much to the delight of his crowd who were all singing along. 

Eddie knows his heart eyes are obvious, but it doesn’t matter. 

“Now what about you, Muñoz, gonna do another song or are you just here to heckle the rest of us?” Steve asks after he’s done.

Ignoring the taunting 'oooohhs' from the rest of the peanut gallery, Eddie says “Not a chance, big boy, but I may have something better. Give me ten minutes.” He hops up and jogs back to his room and after a quick change, heads back to the ballroom, his sweetheart in hand. 

“No fuckin’ way, is that a warlock??” Mike jumps up as soon as he sees Eddie again, running up to see up close.

Everyone else turns to look and a few start throwing whoops and wolf whistles at the sight of him.

“Whoa now, step away from the guitar. You’ll get your gross Mike germs all over her.”

“Rude. Also, the hell are you wearing?”

They’re back at the semi-circle with everyone else, and he sets his mini amp and his baby onto the stage. “Oh, this?” He spreads out his arms and gives a slow spin, letting everyone take in his carefully crafted battle vest, vintage band tee, and favorite ripped jean combo. “This is me, Mikey; Eddie Muñoz, nice to meet you.” He sticks out his hand for Mike to shake and the teen rolls his eyes and bats his hand away.

“This is insane, you look like Hammett,” Jonathan points at Eddie, “and you look like Springsteen.” pointing at Steve. “This is turning into a real 80s fest.”

Steve preens at that, and all Eddie can think to say is “You know Metallica?”

“Everyone knows Metallica.” Mike cuts back in

“Oh, don’t even start, Mike, as if you know any of their names. You just know ‘Metallica’.”

Mike grumbles and moves to tackle Dustin back onto the mattress, nearly elbowing Lucas in the scuffle.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Steve calls, getting the boys to stop. “So, Eddie, you gonna put on a concert for us?”

“Eh, something like that.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck “I’m no singer but I wanted to pull her out and play while I had some sort of chance.”

“Have at it, man, the floor is yours.” Steve smiles and gestures to the stage.

Eddie gets his shit plugged in and set up, listening to the conversations around him as he does.

“Eddie had a band back in secondary school, they were horrible and scream-y but I thought they were all so cool.” Chrissy is telling Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan (who’d made himself comfy next to Nancy).

“Am I seriously considering getting a denim vest right now?” He hears Dustin wonder aloud.

“It’s not just a vest, bonehead, it’s a battle jacket. It’s different.” Erica (surprisingly) says.

“How in the hell do you know that?” Lucas asks as Eddie plugs the mic into his amp too.

“If you actually like music, you’d know that every community has their thing, Sinclair.” Max cuts in “Battle vests are metalheads’ thing.”

“Can you make one even if you aren’t a metalhead?” Eddie can hear Dustin ask quietly.

“That you can, Dusty, just make sure you know the history before you do.” Eddie shucks off the vest in question and tosses it to Dustin “Be careful with it, will you?” Dustin nods, him and the other four already distracted by his pins and patches. 

Eddie slings his sweetheart around his neck, ready to go, and sees Steve, El and Will sitting cross-legged on the mattress directly in front of him, all three looking at him expectantly.

“Okay, you all. I’m not a singer, but I hope at least one of you knows this one.” Eddie says into the mic, then strums. 

–

The teens around him erupt into cheers and Erica yells “Master of Puppets!”

Eddie points at her with a grin and keeps going, fingers going a mile a minute and Steve is enthralled.

Steve’s come to accept that Eddie will literally always look damn good, but he looks Damn. Good. up on that stage; guitar in hand, hair taken out of the bun it was in before and flying with every movement, the fucking eyeliner he’d added with his “real Eddie” clothes that’d made Steve’s mouth go dry.

They all cheer and scream when Eddie’s done with his song, and he starts in on another, playing a few chords before Erica again is yelling out the name of the song. The song changes and this time Jonathan guesses correctly; on and on with different songs, changing each once someone guesses correctly. 

Steve finally recognizes one, “I Was Made For Lovin’ You!” he yells before Jonathan or Erica can. 

“Finally!” Eddie grins and points at Steve “Of course it’d be KISS that you’d recognize, Stevie. Okay, this one’s for you.”

This one Steve recognizes with the first note, and is frozen where he sits. ‘How’d he know this is my favorite?’ Steve looks at Robin with wide eyes, and she’s already looking at him, her mouth open in shock. ‘Did you tell him?�� he mouths at her. She shakes her head furiously and looks back at Eddie.

He looks back at Eddie, who’s looking down at his hands on the strings, head bobbing to the unheard beat, hair curtained around his face. A couple of the others had already guessed the song correctly, but Eddie keeps playing, the song is a little empty without the usual keyboard and drum, but it works. Damn does it work.

Steve’s on his feet and stepping onto the stage without even thinking about it. As soon as he is, Eddie’s head snaps up, confused, but his hands don’t falter. Just watches him as he picks up the mic right on time to sing “Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back..”

He sings, and looks at Eddie, who’s looking at him with the fondest smile he’s ever seen. Steve’s heart is hammering, burning hotter and hotter for Eddie with every beat.

He tears his eyes from the man next to him and looks out at his mish-mash group of friends singing along with him; Nancy and Jonathan singing along and swaying side to side with Chrissy and Robin (the latter of whom’s arms are tucked around the former), Mike had taken Steve’s spot next to Will when he’d gotten up (both of their faces red), leaving El next to Dustin (who’s now wearing Eddie’s vest), Erica on his other side, phone held up and a mischievous grin on her face, and Max and Lucas next to each other at the end, each leaning in to the other, but not quite touching. 

Steve grins around the lyrics he sings, and thinks that he needs to find Joyce to tell her “Nevermind, I am definitely happy.”

Chap 9 here!

@henderdads gave me most of party's karaoke songs, and @yournowheregirl suggested Barbie Girl for Steve and Robin, but I swapped it to Eddie and Chrissy instead! Thank you guys!!!

@sadcanadianwinter @hopefulslothcollecter @steveshairychest @sidebarre @resident-gay-bitch @kaspurrcat @melkene @livewondrousss @steddieasitgoes @mightbeasleep @princessstevemunson @totallybitchin @potentialheartofdarkness @spectrum-spectre

[nenilein]

Puyo Puyo Drama CD #4-3: Chain Squadron Puyo Rangers (ENG Translation)

A script translation of the infamous "Power Rangers/Super Sentai"-AU story included on Puyo Puyo Drama CD Vol.4! Feel free to repost parts of it or the entire text wherever you want as long as you credit me as the translator!

Also available as a Google Doc.

INTRO

Narrator: If Amitie&Co were superheroes! 

-

STORY

Narrator: The City of Primp lies cast in darkness… Under the control of the evil Nuisance Puyo Empire, the people live in fear! But there are brave heroes who fight to free this city from the clutches of villainy! 

They are the champions of justice, the Puyo Rangers!

~Title Card Music~

Amitie: I am Amitie! A normal schoolgirl living in Primp City… But, actually, that is just my civilian disguise! My true identity is… MOOOORPHING!

~SFX~

Amitie: …Puyo Red, of the Chain Sentai Puyo Rangers! It’s pretty hard fighting for the peace of the city every day, but that’s no problem, ‘cuz I’ve got a whole team right behind me! Lemme introduce them! … Hey, Sig!

Sig: What?

Amitie: C’mon, Sig!

Sig: …What?

Amitie: Oh, seriously now, Sig!!

Sig: Amitie, why are you in red spandex?

Amitie: I-It’s not spandex!  It’s my battle suit! I need this to fight the forces of evil…! And you’re also one of the Chain Sentai Puyo Rangers! You can transform too!

Sig: I can?

Amitie: C’mon, get morphin’ already! Morphing!

Sig: Morph…ing.

~SFX~

Sig: Hooray.

Amitie: What’s there to ‘hooray’ about!? Why’s your battle suit a stag beetle costume!?

Sig: Because it makes me happy.

Amitie: C’mon, Puyo Blue! Get real!!

Raffina: Oh-HOHOHO! Looks like your operations are off to a fabulous start, huh, Amitie~?

Amitie: Hey, that voice, that’s… Raffina! But her true identity is my team member, Puyo Yellow of the Pu-

Raffina: I am the marvelously beautiful transforming heroine, Miracle Raffina! I am going to DESTROY the evildoers plaguing this city with naught but my two fists and raw violence! …Elegantly, of course!

Amitie: Huh!? No, no, you’re supposed to be Puyo Yellow, Raffina! …And also, what you said just now sounds kinda terrifying, to be honest.

Raffina: Oh, stop complaining, Amitie! As if a lady like me would ever lower herself to wearing such a lame morphing costume!

Amitie: Urgh… When did you even have time to prepare that frilly suit you got…?

Lidelle:  U-Umm… Ammy…

Amitie: Oh, here’s my next team member, Lidelle! She is Puyo Green of the Puyo Rangers! C’mon, Lidelle, it’s morphin’ time!

Lidelle:  O…Okay… Morphiiing…!

~SFX~

Lidelle: I did it…!

Amitie: Um… Look, Lidelle, I’m super thankful that you properly transformed on first try, so I really, really don’t wanna complain, but… YOU’RE PUYO GREEN! SO WHY’S YOUR BATTLE SUIT RED!?

Lidelle: I-I just thought… it’d be embarrassing to not have our suits match… I-I’m sorry…

Amitie: Uhh… I-It’s okay. I guess we can both be the Red Ranger then…

Lidelle:  Yay! Eheheh…

Raffina:  Oh? But my theme color is red as well!

Amitie:  What!?

Raffina: I mean, obviously, a true super heroine MUST wear red! Oh-HOHOHO!

Amitie: So we got THREE Red Rangers on the team!? That’s SO not balanced!

Sig: Guess I should change my beetle suit to red t-

Amitie: No, you won’t! And why are you still wearing that? Transform into Puyo Blue already! 

Sig: Hmpf.

~SFX~

Sig: There.

Amitie: A… Are we really gonna beat the bad guys if we can’t even morph without quarreling…?

Lidelle: I think it’s time to all work together and go out to find some villains…

Amitie: Yeah! You’re right!

Lidelle: And then we’ll tell them “Please stop being so evil”, until all the bad is gone…!

Amitie:  U-Um! Lidelle, I like that idea, but we’re a battle squadron, so we kinda, sorta, are supposed to, y’know, battle the bad guys…

Lidelle: R-Really…? That’s kinda scary…

Raffina: So? How much commission do we get per villainous head minced, pulped and disposed of anyway?

Amitie: W-We don’t take money for our Ranger duties, Raffina! 

Raffina: Huh!?

Amitie: We fight for justice, not for pay! True heroes don’t expect to get paid, y’know!

Raffina:  Really now… Are you out of your mind? Who went and decided that demanding pay is not heroic? Proper execution of justice demands a motivation, not to speak of the funds required to upgrade our equipment and heighten our battle strength! If you ask me, it would be unwise to NOT pay us!  The idea of maintaining our entire organization on the basis of an abstract concept like “justice” alone is rather-

Amitie: Whoawhoawhoa… This is all going way over my head…!

Sig:  Hey, Riffraff. Got that in a nutshell?

Raffina: GIVE ME YOUR CASH, PLEBS!!

Sig:  There you got it, Amitie.

Amitie: Okay. Thanks. That’s easy enough to understand… ahahah…

~Alarm System SFX~

Onion Pixie: On, on, ON!

Lidelle:  Oh my! The Nuisance Puyo Radar is reacting… That means Nuisance Puyo Troops have appeared in the city…!

Amitie:  There they are! I wonder what villainous deeds they are committing this time!

Onion Pixie:  Onon-ON! BaDOOON!

Lidelle:  Um… He says that they are antagonizing innocent civilians…

Amitie: Then it’s time we stepped in! Puyo Rangers! Let’s go!

Sig&Raffina&Lidelle: Yeaaah!

-

P!Klug:  AHAHAHAHAHA…!! It is I, one of the generals of the evil Nuisance Puyo Empire… We shall rule this City of Primp with fear…! Now. How shall I begin my operations today?

P!Klug: Hm? …There is trash on the ground! That will NOT do! I cannot work in such a disorderly environment! This will keep me up at night.

P!Klug: Trash goes in the trash can… *SFX of a can being carefully folded and disposed in the proper way*

P!Klug:  Hm? There is more! *paper rustling* Hmpf, this might take a while. Very well. Once I am done here, I suppose I shall take a short break in the local library to enjoy a good book in silence…Heheheh…

Suketoudara:  Hey, you! Over there!

P!Klug:  Hm? What do you want?

Suketoudara:  Oh, I’m just your unremarkably average and virtuous citizen, the great Suketoudara!

P!Klug: You appear quite remarkably unaverage to my eyes, however…

Suketoudara: Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong, kid? Gotta say, you’re actin’ mighty susfishous today!

P!Klug:  As if I cared what you think I should act like.

Suketoudara:  Lemme guess! Ya decided to change your image to become a fresh dancer, like yours truly!? 

P!Klug:  Wha-!? Where did you even get this ridiculous no…

Suketoudara: I see how it is! Then let’s dance, pal! A dance to commemorate the ebb and flow of our newfound rivalry! We shall settle it all on the dancefloor, baby!

P!Klug:  Gah! S-Stop pulling on my cape!

Suketoudara:  Jump! Step! Behold my gorgeous groove!!

P!Klug: HALT! Y… You will spill the trash I gathered…!!

Suketoudara: What’s the matter? Can’t have a dance battle if only one o’ us is dancin’, kid!! Ya can stop watching me now!

P!Klug:  I never STARTED watching you…!!

Yu:  Ta-dah! I thought I heard somebody having the fun of their afterlife over here! So from the grave, live, to you! Here come your unremarkably average and virtuous ghosts, Yu-!

Rei: …and Rei…

P!Klug: Urgh… Yet more pests…

Yu:  Oho, oho? Why the furrowed brows, my caped friend? Something got you spooked?

P!Klug:  Why, yes. I am currently experiencing a tremendous annoyance, you see.

Yu:  And it’s so tremendous that it has you trembling! It’s like someone is playing the trembone right next to your ear! Whatever will we do about this tremotion?! 

P!Klug: There is a simple solution: You leave me alone. 

Yu:  Sheesh, how cold! …Oh, oh, oh? Hey, big guy, what’s that thing you got there~!?

P!Klug: What are you talking about?

Yu:  There’s a soul poking out of that book you got! And it’s looking pretty lively! Like it hasn’t even died yet!

Rei: Um, that looks like…

Yu:  Hey, hey, lemme take a look! Y’know how it is with us ghosts: When we see a soul, we wanna snatch it right away! Booo!!

P!Klug(screaming): S-Stop it! Let go! I will not let you have this book!!! 

Yu:  Aw, c’mon, don’t be so stingy! 

P!Klug:  You blasted little…!!

Suketoudara:  Whoa! Those ghosts sure got ya splashin’ around! Nice dance steps!

P!Klug:  YOU SHUT UP! 

~Running footsteps~

Amitie: Found you, evil General of the Nuisance Puyo Empire! Out with it, what are you doing here!?

P!Klug: I was cleaning up the town's litter, then wanted to go to the library, but got assaulted by a fish and almost had my book stolen from me by a pair of ghosts.

Lidelle: Um... That... doesn't sound particularly evil…

Amitie:  Huh!? Um, uh, uhh… Well, he didn’t do anything bad yet, but he MIGHT if we don’t stop him, I guess…! So, let’s battle! Puyo Rangers, assemble and… 

Amitie: Um… Hey, Sig? Huh? Where did Sig go? Did he just disappear?

Raffina: Oh, he? He went home.

Amitie: WHAAAA!?

Lidelle:  He said something about having a feeling something bad might happen if he ran into Klug now and that he wants to go hunting stag beetles while dressed up as a stag beetle instead…

Amitie:  NOOOO! That means we can’t combine our powers to do our ultimate attack now! 

Raffina: It will be fine, Amitie! 

Amitie: R-Raffina! Yeah, you’re right! If the three of us combine their powers, we can do anyth-

Raffina: We’ll just create a fusion mech out of our three base Puyo-mechs and stomp the enemy flat like a pancake.

P!Klug: What! Is that even allowed!?

Raffina:  Why not? What’s wrong with using the means at our disposal? Anyway, let’s get this over with. Alright, my red Puyo mech! Come on out!

~Zord summoning SFX~

Amitie: Um… Guess, since Raffina already summoned hers, might as well… Red Puyo Mech! ENGAGE! 

~Zord summoning SFX~

Lidelle: M…M…Me too… My Red Puyo Mech, that matches so nicely with Ammy’s… Please come out…!

~Zord summoning SFX~

Raffina:  And now, let us fuse!

Narrator: To explain! The Puyo Rangers can fuse their Puyo mechs into a single, massive unit to vanquish evil! 

~Fusing SFX and “Ta-da” fanfare~

Raffina: OHOHOHO! I knew this would work! Now, I know this isn’t our usual etiquette, but let’s just step this weird version of Klug flat and get this the heck over with!

P!Klug: A fusion of three red Puyo mechs. Hmpf, fascinating. I wonder…

Amitie:  Huh? He doesn’t seem freaked out at all. Actually, it looks like he’s doing something…

Lidelle: I-Isn’t that… A fourth red Puyo…!?

Raffina:  Wait! He isn’t going to… S-Stop…! Please stop what you’re doing at once!

P!Klug:  And, hop!

~Looong, falling SFX, Puyo drop SFX. Puyo pop SFX~

Narrator: To explain! The Puyo mechs may be mechs, but they are also still Puyo! And when four Puyo of the same color connect, they pop and disappear!

~Panic BGM, Nuisance Puyo rain SFX~

Amitie: UWAWAWAWAWAH!! Our mechs are gone and now it’s raining Nuisance Puyo!! Ouch! OUCHOUCHOUCH!!

Lidelle:  N-nooo, stop it….!!

Raffina: Hey, you! Four-eyes! You will pay for this!

P!Klug:  Like I care! All I wanted was my peace, and then you all showed up and started threatening me with your giant robot!

Lidelle: Ouch… The Puyo rain just won’t stop…!

P!Klug: Ah… This was exhausting. I suppose I shall retreat for a nice cup of black tea now…

Amitie: What, no, WAAAAAIIIT!  Nuisance Puyo Empire General! Wait… I mean, please wait! HEEELP! PLEEEEEEAASE HELP US!! 

Narration: And so, since as odd as Klug was acting, they weren’t not doing anything evil in particular, the peace of Primp City has been kept and the day is saved! And it’s all thanks to the Chain Squadron, the Puyo Rangers! Keep on fighting for great justice! Chain Squadron, Puyo Rangers!

~Title Card Music~

-END

[kawaiidoodles95-blog]

The Stranger Stampy Circus - Chapter 5

The 5th chapter of a long series I am making!

NOTICE: This is 11+! Throughout this story, there will be light mentions of blood, death, war, darker humor, and violence. While nothing here is explicit, if this bothers you in any way, keep on moving. Trust me. I won't be mad.

AN: I am making this not only on here but on google docs. This is a crossover between Stranger Things, Stampy's Lovely World, The Amazing Digital Circus, and Wonka. Each chapter will have a name of one of the characters (or main POV's I refer to them as,) and whoever's name is on the chapter title is the person narrating the chapter.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy TSSC!

Chapter 5: Stampy

(A day later)

I looked at Pomni, then at the rest of the group. Now we have a whole lot of people; Me, Vecna, Fizzy, Polly, William, Veeva, Pomni, Caine, Ragatha, and Jasper. “Pomni, my dear, what was that ping for?” Caine asked. “Apparently someone abstracted,” Pomni muttered. “I feel like I missed something, what’s abstracting?” Vecna asked, shaking his head. “Well… it’s the process of dying in our video game. The longing and want to leave drives people to the brink of madness, causing them to become this glitchy distorted form,” Ragatha explained. “Holy moly! That’s a bad way to go,” I frowned, my ears lowering and my tail between my legs. 

“Did ANY of you bring cookies? I am gonna commit mass murder and overthrow the U.S government if you don’t give me one RIGHT NOW,” Fizzy threatened. “Holy shoot, Fizzy! NO! We did not bring cookies, and you are NOT overthrowing the government,” Jasper snapped. “Since when did you care about the government, authority, and it being overthrown?” Pomni teased. “Guys, guys. SHUT THE HECK UP. Who did this abstracting thing?” Vecna asked. Pomni looked at her watch which I assume gives notifications about the game. It was red and blue; the same colors of her skirt. It had a very shiny finish. Looking closely, every one of her colleagues had the same kind of watch.

“Apparently the one who abstracted was a guy on the Digital Circus server by the name of Hit the Target,” Pomni said. My pupils shrunk, and I realized what I did. I banished HTT (his initials) somewhere, but I didn’t know where. But now I do. Whatever this “Digital Circus” world was… it killed him. “He… died? But he’s already dead,” Veeva mentioned. “Stampy killed him once.” I looked at her. “But I resurrected him,” I said, giving a counterpoint. “So what? He’s a green zombie, he still can’t die!” Veeva explained. “But this is a video game,” Vecna said, “video game logic isn’t the same as real life logic.” I nodded, remembering all of my times in MINECRAFT when I almost died.

-+*~*+-

Everyone was eagerly talking while the dinner was passed around. There was a big, juicy chicken. Everyone dug into that, while Vecna, the head of the table, took bites out of his food that no human ate. I stared at everyone, eating. Though I wasn’t hungry. I still felt guilt for HTT’s death despite all the pain he caused. He killed my dogs, kidnapped me and my helpers, almost blew up my lovely world… I don’t know. I just felt bad.