#g error

[heartkillers]

PLS PLS PLS I NEED MORE ERROR!GASTER PLS PLS I NEED IT I NEED IT AAAAAAAA

So... which one? LMAO- And I'm missing more designs of Gaster Error HASDFJAFDAJS

[bone-honey]

Dont mind the creepy paintings behind them, but Cross and Epic have been added to the line up! 9 down, seven to go 🦴🦴🦴

[keuwibloom]

Inktobertale 2023 day 17: Magician

Have some Ink cosplaying as one of his dads!

[rottmnt-residuum]

part 7

remember not to ever talk to cops if you get arrested, everyone! envoke your rights and shut the fuck up! don’t make the same mistakes as moi (✿ -- ‿ -- )

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾

[toffeebrew]

CHATim scared to watch it ngl

[cjhern1109]

Just going to dump my Frans sketches here 😌✨💜

Close ups if you’re curious…

CREDITS:

Sweet Babu Arno belongs to @shayromi 🐢

Detective Frisk x Lust Sans belongs to @feelisia 🐑

D!Frisk and L!Sans drawing was inspired by @jjaydazo’s Underswap Papara dream post 🍃

“Lilly Story” is a dress-up game that I used as a reference to draw the clothes 💎

[dearlawdimasimp]

Master Sorcerer of Kindness and Humility

Pairings: MK System x Sorcerer!Reader, Khonshu x Sorcerer!Reader

Warnings: English isn't my first language, Spanish is from google translate

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Summary: Things in the Sanctum Santorum has been…pretty fucking hectic lately. To put it simply, chaos is in every fucking corner and as a Master Sorcerer of one of the Sanctums in the world, you have to assist the Sorcerer Supreme. Some things are still the usual, but double the effort. Like teaching the new recruits, now, from three different Sanctums instead of one, keep said recruits from the restricted area of the library, guarding the said restricted area of the library and the whole library itself.

With your growing exhaustion, so did the worry of the moon boys grew.

a/n: Hai so uh it has been awhile since i posted eheh I just noticed i have MANY rotting fics in my docs so decided to post now ( ´∀`)/~~ Enjoy lovelies! (^o^)／~💜 (this fic is crossposted on AO3 under the same title and author name ^-^)

Things in the Sanctum Santorum has been…pretty fucking hectic lately. To put it simply, chaos is in every fucking corner and as a Master Sorcerer of one of the Sanctums in the world, you have to assist the Sorcerer Supreme. Some things are still the usual, but double the effort. Like teaching the new recruits, now, from three different Sanctums instead of one, keep said recruits from the restricted area of the library, guarding the said restricted area of the library and the whole library itself.

The supposed assigned sorcerers for each class told you that they are needed on a mission across the globe and are in need of a substitute, of course being the kind soul that you are you agreed on subbing them for the meantime while they're off to save humanity. The library duty has always been yours though, you volunteered on the job when Wong said he needed someone to take his place as he takes the Sorcerer Supreme, and ever since the world has gone back to its normal state, you remained as the librarian.

Your overloaded schedule leads to early mornings and late nights, and less time with your moon boys™.

To say that they are concerned of your health is a bit of an understatement, they're fucking worried as every time they see you, your eyebags grow darker and puffier than the last time.

But, somehow, even with all the things going on with you (only knowing what you are allowed to talk about), you still insert a little bit of your time to cook Steven his favorite breakfast before he goes to work, you still brew up Mark's favorite coffee, prepare Jake's uniform for his side-job during the night as a limo driver, and bring Khonshu offerings on the small altar you've made for him that is purposefully placed on the windowsill where the moon usually shines.

They are thoroughly impressed, but at the same time endlessly worried as your eyes grow weary and exhausted each time you enter the flat.

However, you still have the same warming smile on your lips every time you greet them after work. Joy was etched into your tone as you kissed them and mingled with them for a few hours, dismissing their worries with gentle eyes and kept on insisting that you love your job. You even still have the fiery stare whenever they tell you to rest and let them handle the dishes, which diminishes when Khonshu lays his hand on your shoulders, coaxing you to rest. The god pulls you to the shared bed and once your head hits the plush white pillows, you're out like a light.

The system continues to take care of cleaning the kitchen before joining their sorcerer in deep sleep and joining you in the dreamworld for a while before the Lunar deity of Egypt pulls them to another night of being his fist of vengeance. They would be back and join you once more in bed, and let sleep pull them to its cocoon. And you wake up not an hour later to start the day.

And this went on for a few more days before the moon boys decided to put an end to this. Their last straw was when you had fallen asleep mid-conversation while in front of your food. You were in that level of exhaustion to the point that you couldn't keep yourself awake while eating. They drew the line at that.

They carefully laid your slumbering self down on the bed before donning on the suit, “We'll be back, hermosa.” Jake held your hand and kissed your knuckles tenderly. “We just need to have a bit of a word with them, love, don't worry.” Steven gently lays your hand down on your stomach and leaves a kiss on your forehead before Marc leaps out of the window and out to the London air as Khonshu guides them with his wind to the London Sanctum.

The trip wasn't long before they landed on the Sanctum's roof. The place was brimming with magic and the system could feel it. Marc tries to enter through the window but the scenery changes before his foot lands on the stained glass. A confused and ungraceful landing led him to curse under his breath as he observed his surroundings.

“Be vigilant, Spector.” The god throws caution to the wind, his rumbling voice echoing in the minds of the system. Marc keeps his snarky remark to the god to himself, wanting to tell the god he knows what he's doing. He rolled his eyes instead as he composures himself, and inspects the room they are in.

The place is reminiscent of those temples that houses holy relics, it was old but in tip-top shape. The floor below him looks furnished and one that can be compared closed to an old mansion, and the slabs holding what he thinks are relics had intricate wood carvings were carefully placed on both sides of the hallway he's in. It was leading to an illuminated room and so he took no more than a second to head to the light.

His eyes wandered around the hallway he's walking down in, Steven was gushing at the designs while he and Jake kept silent and kept an eye for any threat.

The room they entered was spacious, save for the relics enclosed in glass and the big circle window that allowed the moonlight to fill the space. It had intricate swirls which Marc remembers, was the same design of the brooch you have on your collar.

However, it wasn't the window that had caught their attention but rather the man behind it, who was eerily calm while peering out the glass. The London night visible to the man that had a red cape that's barely touching the wooden floors.

“An unexpected visit from the Knight of Khonshu himself. You know, you're lucky you're under the protection of the Master Sorcerer here in London.” The man states with a booming voice, bouncing off the walls and glass in the room. It was humorous, but full of threat.

“Or else what?” Marc quips inattentively, keeping distance from the sorcerer who had yet introduced himself.

“Or else I would have thrown you to the ocean the moment you stepped foot on the Sanctum.” The man's baritone voice lowered an octave as he turned to finally meet Moon Knight's glowing eyes.

He had a goatee and the robes he wore were akin to their beloved but in the deep shade of blue instead of your favorite color.

Goatee. Red cloak. This was the Stephen Strange you can't stop complaining about.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips through his masked face. He believes the sorcerer's powers alright, he just can't keep a straight face after the memory of you audibly cussing Strange out had just played in their minds.

“Right,” Marc takes out his crescent daggers from his chest, “I'm only here-”

“Trust me you don't want to fight me.”

“Let us finish, pendejo!” Jake growls as he fronts, not wanting to waste more time and to get out of the place as soon as possible.

They weren't planning to fight. They weren't stupid. They can feel every ounce of energy and magic in the building. They stepped into a lion's den. But if it is what it needs for these sorcerers to hear them? They will face these magic wielders head on.

It seemed that Strange was a bit perplexed at the alter's rage or maybe it was the suit change, but they couldn't care less.

“We're only here because that Master Sorcerer you talked about is always on the verge of passing out every time they go home.” Marc's jaw clenches under the mask as he continues with a step forward to the sorcerer—who promptly took a step back— as his fingers flex around the sharp gold crescent on his hand, “For the past weeks they have been wrung out and just a while ago, had passed out while eating.” When he finished his sentence the room was suddenly swept with a wild draft, with no windows open.

They were not able to notice the confused and worried squint of the former sorcerer supreme's eyes as Marc continues, his tone nothing but purely scathing.

“My point is, We will not be allowing them to come to work tomorrow and until she gets the proper rest she deserves, and not until you fix her schedule that is ethical and appropriate hours of work.” He ends his spiel right in front of the sorcerer, looking up to him with a keen glare, his glowing ivory eyes illuminating the sharpened features of Stephen Strange.

“Or else?” The sorcerer rasps as he stares right back at the avatar, standing his ground, and using the exact words back to the stark white cloaked man.

As if on cue, stronger gusts of wind shakes the glass covers and uncovered relics. The Egyptian God of the Moon materializes behind the sorcerer and with a booming, bitter voice, he answers, “Then you will face the consequences of causing harm to one of whom is under my protection, Stephen Strange.”

The said sorcerer turns his body to the side to glance at the moon god. In all his glory he was towering over him, moonlight was illuminating his monstrously tall and slender figure as the bronzed crescent end of his staff that is nearly scratching the ceiling reflected it. His loose, darkened, silk robe was flowing and whipping around without the presence of the wind, his crouched figure wrinkling the bandages on his torso as his bleached bird skull head tilted down and gave Stephen a hollowed stare.

With a sigh, which had displeased the moon collective and took it as an insult, he nodded to accept their terms. He honestly had no idea you had worked yourself to the bone and will consult the other Master Sorcerers and Wong of your schedule. He knew you were humble and kind, but he didn't know it would be up to the point that your.. acquaintances.. had to show up and tell them of your over-extended goodwill.

“I will inform our masters of such, thank you for bringing this to our attention.” He ends the conversation as he does not want to deal with whatever this is. He was not intimidated, not one bit—okay maybe a bit but he has faced much worse! What's intimidating him is the fact that a literal god has taken you under his wing and has gone out of his way to announce his displeasure.

“As you should.” And with that, the moon party calmed down before they vanished in a swirl of blur and whirling sand. Let's just say you were confused when you woke up late, about to dash to the bathroom before you were stopped by your moon god and gave you a letter that was sent by the Sorcerer Supreme that basically said take a break. You were perplexed as you stared at the paper then up to the moon god, who ushered you back to bed and lulled you to sleep. When you woke up you were pampered by the boys with food and cuddles, all gently forcing you to stay in bed and to let them service you for the day as they had also taken the day off. You couldn't help but tear up at their tender loving care all day and being such gentlemen for doing such. Your love for them was overflowing and you kept promising them that you would do the same to them if ever need be, which they dismissed because as they said, “Today is all about you, love. So you better descansar(take a rest), and we'll take care of the rest, sweetheart. And not just today, up until the last day of the week or maybe next couple of weeks, you got that baby?”

This has earned a heartful laugh from you and an affectionate shake of your head before pulling them into a kiss. You were puzzled and have a lot of questions as to how or why you were given a large amount of time off but you really couldn't complain especially if it meant more time with your moon boys.

Back to the sanctum however, the former sorcerer supreme was fuming at the how fucked up your schedule was and how fucked up you were for taking it even though you were literally doing the impossible, and the fact that none of the other masters pointed it out to Wong, who was also equally fuming to the masters that had asked you to cover for them for a ‘mission’ when they were just taking a fucking vacation.

"You are lucky their patron didn't know of your whereabouts, or gods knows what he will do to you.” Wong warned them, displeased and infuriated, written all over his features.

Oh but Khonshu heard, of course he did, and made those masters’ month a living hell through inconveniencing them at every chance he gets. To which Strange and Wong only but gave them a deadpanned stare of ‘deal with it’ when they asked for their help.

[fruttela]

This art has been in the sketchbook since 2021!! and I didn't publish it anywhere, and when I was looking through old sketchbooks, I noticed it. It was unpainted and in those years I wanted to paint it, but I kept putting it off, and now its time has come;3

In those years I liked ErrorCore, but now I'm neutral to it :) And if I were them, I would draw another couple.

P.s. Sometimes I miss this old drawing. She's very exciting to me qwq

(Plus, in addition to all these universes in hashtags, my role-playing universe is also;))



[ginkgerror]

FAQ | Contents Page

C2E2 <  C2E3  > C2E4 (not open)

Original INK!SANS belongs to comyet Original ERROR!SANS belongs to loverofpiggies

If you like this comic, you can support me on Ko-fi. 

[leafmilky]

I painted some, and I tried thick painting for the first time.

[the-selfinsert]

Art dump time!

Greetings, how do you do, fellow neurotypicals? (Lying through my teeth rn) In my attempts to become slightly less of a waste of space and oxygen, I have made some subpar art! And here you go, enjoy! (The reference photos will be placed underneath)

[scootarooni]

happy birthday queen 👑⭐

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ Watermelon Face ★ ⛈

• (Marshall Lee x g/n reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n  &  u p  • 7 1 4  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 13.07.2023    🌧  navigation • s u m m a r y: marshall and reader are hanging out at the beach, and marshall is being his usual annoying self. 

 It was sunny and unbearably hot in Aaa. Dang, even Marshall was hot.  Not like that.  You sat under a weirdly colored umbrella, dressed in light clothes, relishing in the cool the ocean wind and shade provided. Candy citizens splashed in the water far from your secluded spot on the rocky beach, surrounded by half-submerged vehicles and objects you couldn't even name.  You adjusted your large sun hat and sipped a cold drink. You didn't need the hat, you were wearing it in solidarity with... an annoying vampire that was levitating on your right, under the umbrella, dawning a hat, gloves, the whole anti-sun fit.  He floated down and you frowned. He hadn't said a word yet, but you anticipated something dumb. It was right on the edge of his forked tongue.  "What's that?" His pleasant and casual baritone rang out by your ear, and you felt yourself shiver at his cold-ass hands on your shoulders.  You flinched and moved away. You gave him a side-eye.  "Mojito with watermelon eyeballs," You stated with no interest, sipping with displeasure. The breeze blew by, and a drop of condensation hit your leg.  "So are they... eyes? Or watermelon?" Marshall tilted his head, raising a brow, pointing at the glass.  The eyes bobbed up and down in liquid between chunks of ice. You grimaced, chewing through one and swallowing thickly.    "I don't know, but the texture is terrible. Worst mistake ever." You shuddered as the chewed up chunks of the fruit and or organ slid down your throat, finally out of your mouth. You took a gulp of the fizz. You stared out into the ocean. Gentle lapis waves rolled and crashed onto the golden shore. The sun still burned, and cream clouds floated along the horizon; a march into oblivion.  You inhaled fresh air, chunks of ice stinging your mouth and teeth. In a good way. "Eating the ice?"  And there, your moment of serenity was quickly interrupted. Or obscured, more like. By Marshall.  Your brows lowered and you crunched loudly. "Yea, is crunchy," You said with a full mouth.  Marshall laughed at your expression, putting his long arms behind his head, lounging mid air. Was it bothering you? Kind of. Did you have enough energy to bicker with him?  Your frown deepened.  No. That was your Glob-damned off day!  Marshall clicked his tongue, gestured with his hand, and closed his eyes.  "I prefer to crunch on the bones of my enemies," He quipped as he opened his eyes and hissed out the "s", his scleras black and his irises and pupils a bright red. You suppressed a smile.  "You know what else is cold and hard?" He said in an aloof, teasing tone.  Marshall smirked.  Your smile and frown fell, replaced by thinly concealed horror. "What." It was less of a question and more of a panicked stammer.   Double take wasn’t enough. Not even triple take. You nearly choked on your drink. You stared at his cold hands and forced your eyes to stare into his demonic crimson eyes. You hoped dearly that he couldn't read minds.  "The beds in the Ice Kingdom! I stayed over at Simona's last night and my back still hurts," He explained calmly, looking away. When his eyes fell on you, he burst out into a cackle, spinning and clutching his stomach as his hat nearly fell off.  "What did you think I was gonna say?!" He threw back his head, fangs brandished and eyes watching you.  "... Well.... you know..."  The words died in your throat with your dignity. You felt your face heat up as you pressed yourself into your chair. "What?" He smirked, drawling, unable to contain his amusement at your suffering. "Nothing." You looked down, metaphorical tail between your legs. You were definitely red with how much your face burned. When condensation dripped on your leg again, you flinched.  Thoughts? Ninety miles per hour. Face? One billion degrees.  He floated closer to you. He wouldn't flippin’ dare. His hands extended to your face.  "Wow, hey there watermelon fa-"  You cut him off by chucking a handful of ice at his face. He caught it with his maw. He crunched loudly, arms folded. He looked into nowhere for a bit.  He smiled, still chewing. "Oh, it is crunchy!"

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Can I request headcanons or a scenario for Reader (pick a gender, idc) giving V a handjob? Just holding him close, somewhere safe in some nice + safe bolt hole somewhere in Red Grave city, listening to him moan (and maybe talk? If he can talk while getting off) while Reader gets him off? Please, his voice is so pretty, he'd sound so nice 😍 And he deserves to feel good 💜

Lineaments of Gratified Desire: V x G/N Reader

Minors DNI; FOR 18+ ONLY!

Seriously, go away; go read some fluff or angst or something.

SUMMARY:

     Despite V’s physical limitations and condition, the fragile man has saved you on more than one occasion from certain death. Today, you decided to repay his kind deeds.

BEGINNING NOTES:

Requested 10th June 2023 by Saiyanblood2 on Tumblr :))))

🛏️📔🛏️ Submissive V x G/N reader Fluff..? If you squint Smut Handjob; V receiving 📔🛏️📔 🟪Takes place during DMC 5 🟪The reader is a demon hunter who works with the DMC. 🟪The reader uses Gilgamesh and Revenant. 🟪Quick reminder that “sword” sizes are found in the character's H/C chapter (Linked here) 🟪I haven’t finished “Visions of V” yet (not very good at reading things and I haven’t had much time/motivation to do so no Vergil joke intended lmfao) but I’m like 99% sure that this conflicts with that, sorry. 🟪Yes, I know that jumping from a window you should do like a parachute roll or whatever it’s called; just let me have this lmao 🟪Bagheera is the name of the jaguar from “Jungle Book” which I’ve never seen, if I’m honest. But! I feel like Dante and Vergil would’ve seen it as kids since the movie was made in 1967 and they were born in 1980. (I use Bagheera in here and I figure I should explain it lol) 🟪Boxer briefs (as far as I am aware) usually have a zipper fly; so V’s do as well. 🟪This is my first time writing (and acknowledging) that I h/c V to have an uncut dick. It might be a bit rough; sorry. (Fun fact: I also h/c Vergil and Dante to also have uncut dicks lmao)

===

     “So,” Nero mindlessly wandered around the interior of the van, waiting for Nico to finish her work, “You and V, huh?”

     As you adjusted Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and furrowed your brow, responding without looking up, “What about V and me?”

     Leaning against the inner wall of the van, Nero stuck his hand in his jeans pocket in an attempt to act casual, “You two a thing?”

     “Wh-what?” A flustered expression adorned your features as you slowly panned up to meet Nero’s curious gaze.

     “Come on,” he gave a playful smirk, leaning forward slightly, “You can--”

     A loud southern-accented voice cut him off from the back of the van, “He an’ I got a bet if y’all are fuckin’ or not.”

     “If we’re…” You slowly blinked, processing what was said, “V and I are not-” Putting your hands up, you shook your head, “We aren’t anything or doing anything.”

     Nico clicked her tongue in disappointment while Nero pumped his fist with a quiet, “Yes!”

     Rolling her eyes, Nico pulled a wad of cash from her back pocket, counting out what looked like ten dollars. Nero strolled over to her workbench, a smug grin plastered on his face. In an almost exaggerated manner, he snatched the money from her and tucked it in his duffle bag, which was neatly placed underneath the couch.

     A squeak of the van door caught everyone’s attention, V looked around for a moment before his gaze fixated on you, “Pardon my late arrival, I was… busy.”

     You smiled and took a few steps to stand closer to him, “It’s alright; it was nice having a break for a few minutes.”

     Nero raised a brow, “You guys are already heading out?” 

     With a nod, you turned to address the pair, “Just a quick sweep of the next dozen or so blocks; we shouldn’t be long.”

     “Uh-huh,” the white-haired man took a deep breath, shaking his head with a small smile, “You’re gonna burn yourself out again; gotta sleep at some point.”

     He tossed you Revenant which you caught and slid in the holster on your lower back, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides,” you took a deep breath and sighed, “the city’s not gonna clear itself.”

     Making a phone call motion with her hand, Nico spoke, “Keep in touch, hun.”

     With a playful sarcastic wink you gave her double finger guns, “Will do babe,” the two of you shared a laugh before you addressed V, who, unbeknownst to you, hadn't stopped staring at you, “Ready?”

     “Of course,” he pivoted around, opening and holding the door open, “I’ll follow your lead.”

     With departing waves, you stepped out the door, V following suit. A warmth found its way to your face as you smiled as you walked side-by-side; a comforting silence settling between you. Despite only knowing V briefly, you had grown quite fond of the lithe man. The way he treated you and spoke to you was so different compared to the roughness of both Dante and Nero that it made his first meeting with you stick out like a sore thumb. 

===

    It had only been a week or so after the Qliphoth had appeared.

    After only God knows how long, you had taken some vacation time and left the city. Upon hearing the news about the outbreak, you immediately turned around and put your holiday on hold. This wouldn't have been too big of a deal if not for the unbelievably high amount of military checkpoints you had to go through; re-explaining that you work as a devil hunter and your employer had been asked to help handle the situation. It was monotonous, to say the least.

    Not to mention that Nico, Nero, and the client--whom you hadn't met yet--were on the complete opposite side of the city.

    An exasperated sigh left your lips as you kicked a rock using Gilgamesh's boots. It had been nearly 72 hours since you'd slept, eaten, or had any sort of significant source of water. Exhausted didn't even come close to explaining how you felt.

    Thankfully, life decided to throw you a bone and you stumbled upon a relatively un-damaged apartment complex. Not passing up the chance, you headed straight inside and cleared out the first and second floor: given it was only lower-level demons like Empusas. One of the second-floor rooms had a door still attached and a corpse-free bed. Quietly shutting the door, you flopped onto the bed.

    Even with you sleeping with one eye open, you were jumped by a demon that you hadn't heard. It was a Nobody and by the time you got your arms up to block, it was too late to ground yourself. The demon smacked you out the room's window.

    Landing on your feet, Gilgamesh took the brunt of the fall; however, it still sent a shocking pang of pain up your body. Crumpling over on yourself, you grumbled some obscenities before returning upright. Your eyes settled on a newly formed horde and you put your hands up, ready to fight.

    The extent of your exhaustion was becoming evident as you threw sloppy punches and were only able to kick half as high as normal. Despite this, you still managed to clear the demons... or so you thought.

     An icicle from a Baphomet nicked your bicep causing you to hiss in pain. Placing a gauntlet over the torn flesh, you spun around to see the demon which was floating right out in the open. Though it was a stupid move, you spirited straight at the icy demon, avoiding all manner of magical attacks.

    Using Gilgamesh's saws on your boots, you sprung upwards and drilled up into its brain with the gauntlets; killing it. Smiling to yourself, you landed and shook the corpse from your hand.

    Your hair stood on end and your expression fell.

    Slowly pivoting around, you came face to face with a trio of Hell Judeccas. As you waited with bated breath for one of them to move, you felt the blood from your wound glide down and drip off your fingers. The Baphomet was a challenge enough right now; so this fight would most likely end poorly for you. Death was almost a guarantee and there wasn't even anyone around to see it.

    Taking a deep breath, you took off towards the demons and dodged two sets of blades that were sent straight at you by sliding on your knees. Pulling Revenant from its place on your back, you shot at them, praying that you hit at least one. However, you weren't so lucky and they all moved or teleported out of the way.

    Quickly getting to your feet, you readied for another attack when a strange cat-like snarl from behind you caught you off guard. The supposed source of the sound, a large black jaguar, darted passed you and attacked the opposing creatures.

     Then a shrill cackle came from behind in the same direction, quickly approaching and flying over you, “Ha! Bagheera was right, I’ll be damned.”

    Confusion set in as you watched with mouth slightly agape at the demons being shredded by, what you could only assume to be, more demons.

     “ “The most sublime act is to set another before you. / If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”.” A low sultry voice from behind you caught your attention, turning slightly; attempting to keep an eye on both the demons and the new voice.

     “Who-?” 

     You froze, your already pounding heart picking up a few extra paces at the sight. Though Dante had called you and given you a small description of the newest client of (The) Devil May Cry, you hadn’t expected him to look like this. 

     He slowly walked past you, sliding the well-kept brown pleather and golden accented book into his, rather promiscuous, leather jacket. When you turned back around to face the demons, the amount of confusion you had only tripled. The two animals had taken care of the three Hell Judeccas, all looking oddly de-saturated and on the verge of death. The gaunt tattooed stranger, using his cane, swept up one of the large demon’s sets of blades and swung them around, slicing it in half. He repeated the action but was able to kill the final two in one combined swing. 

     All you could muster was a confused open-mouthed huff. 

     The large hawk addressed the raven-haired man, “Well that was fun.”

     Rolling his eyes, the man sighed and turned his attention to the jaguar. The large cat had begun to creep up to you; not in a threatening way but rather, what appeared to be, a curious one.

     Just as it got within an arm's length from you, the man placed his cane down using it to support himself, and simply said, “To me.”

     Both animals returned to him and quickly disappeared into the man, causing more blackened ink to appear on his pallid skin. 

     “Are you alright?” His eyes focused on you.

     “I-” You closed your eyes and rapidly shook your head, rationalizing that his animals weren't real, thinking it was caused by your delirious state, “I’m fine; thanks for the help.”

     A warm smile pulled at his plush lips, “The boy asked me to keep an eye out for someone who looks an awful lot like you,” he gestured with his eyes down to Gilgamesh, “and would have that devil arm.”

     You laughed softly, “Nero’s actually here, huh?”

     “He is, however, we parted ways after stopping in that woman’s loud van.”

     “Nico’s here too?” Shaking your head you looked down with raised brows, “Man, the whole crew’s out here.,” You looked back up, “What about Dante or the ladies? They out here too?”

     His smile faded, “No, I’m afraid that they are more than likely dead at this point.”

     “Dead? Surely you’re kidding.”

     With a flat mouth, he broke his gaze away for a moment, “No. Sorry to relay such bitter news upon our first meeting.”

     Grinding your teeth in thought and moving your jaw back and forth, you stood thinking for a moment, “So it’s just Nico, Nero, me, and--?”

     “Call me V,” the lithe man took a few strides closer to you, standing comfortably close.

     “So you are the client then?”

     V nodded, “Yes, that is correct.”

     “Man,” you gestured with one hand up and down his body, the other hand resting on your hip, “Wish we had customers like you more often,” for better or for worse, you spoke your mind, “cause damn you’re-- wow.”

     He looked down, hiding the slight pink on his face at the comment, and laughed, “You’re much more blunt than the others led me to believe.”

     A wide smile stretched across your face, emphasizing the bags under your bloodshot eyes, which V finally noted, “Just callin’ it like I see it, V.”

     “May I do the same?”

     Putting your arms up, you cracked your shoulders as you responded, “Sure.”

     “You need rest.”

     Putting your arms down with a heavy sigh, “It’s that obvious, huh?”

     V laughed slightly, “Just calling it as I see it,” slowly, he began to walk back the way he’d come from, “We aren’t far from Nico, I'm sure you could rest up there.”

     Happily, you turned to follow him, “I’ll follow your lead.”

===

     “What’s with that expression Wanderer?” V raised a brow, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Oh!” With an embarrassed smile, you placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Just got lost in thought, sorry.”

     “May I ask what you were thinking so intensely about?” He shifted slightly, allowing Shadow to take a break from traveling, and began supporting himself with his cane causing the two of you to move slower.

     “Just thinking about our first time, that’s all.”

     A breathy sultry laugh left his lips, “ Our first time? Well now, I didn’t take you to be such a bold flirt today.”

     “Wh-huh?” Replaying the conversation, your eyes went wide and you turned to him, doing your best to not trip as you continued walking, “No no- I didn’t-- that wasn’t-”

     V laughed again, eyeing you up and down from the corner of his eye with a smirk, “Right, pardon my assumption.”

     You stared with parted lips momentarily before returning to face the correct way, lips pursed and cheeks unbearably hot. Nervousness settled like a brick in your gut as you watched the ground in front of you, causing you to miss the fact V was staring at you with half-lidded eyes. 

     Mindlessly playing with his teeth with his tongue, he debated whether to tease you any further about what was said; ultimately he decided to drop it. In truth, however, the lithe man was a bit disappointed that you weren’t thinking about the idea of being with him as he had thought about many times before. V felt almost guilty about the intense lust he felt for you.

     The raven-haired poet was unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, in love with you--even if he has only known you for a short time. V was certain that he wanted to be with you for the rest of this lifetime and, what could be argued to be, his next; in whatever way you’d have him. Whether it was just as colleagues, friends, or lovers; it didn’t matter, he needed you in his life. 

     His grip tightened on his cane, realizing that Vergil may end up pushing you away, despite the pronounced dependency on you. You were like a rich dark sweet wine that he was unable to put down and wanted to do nothing but sip upon you till the end of time itself. A low sigh left his nose, secretly praying that he was wrong about how things would be when all was said and done. 

     “V?” Your voice was quiet as you adjusted Gilgamesh for the umpteenth time, “Can I ask you something?”

     “Of course,” he straightened upright, holding the cane horizontally, gloved fingers wrapping around the blade.

     “When this is all over, could we…” You paused for a moment, “stay in contact?”

     “Do you want to?”

     Sheepishly, you nodded.

     V smirked, “Then of course we can.”

     Your eyes flicked up to meet his unwavering gaze, smiling brightly at him, “Thanks.”

     “Perhaps, if you’d like, we could consider some other things as well.”

     “O-other things?” A shake had found its way to your words as you waited with bated breath for his answer.

     However, he didn’t answer, instead, he gave a low chuckle and turned his gaze from you, gesturing with his cane, “It seems we have work to do,” he put the metal back down and leaned on it again.

     A heavy sigh left your lips and, without a second thought, you took off toward the horde.

     Not hearing V calling out for you to stop.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw fast almost unplaceable movement. Although you went to bring your gauntlets up as fast as possible, you were unable to make the time gap. Except when you opened your eyes, instead of a big demon skewering you through your middle, you were on your ass and V was lying on top of you. His arms wrapped around your hips with his face right underneath your navel, face down and breathing heavily.

     Before you could ask, a familiar squawking voice chimed in, “Aw, how romantic; Romeo can sure as hell hustle when he needs to,” the bird let out a laugh.

     A snarl left Shadow’s maw, seemingly annoyed at the lack of help from Griffon. 

     “Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it,” Griffon returned to the fight, leaving you to assist V up.

     Slowly, he picked his head up enough to look at you, emerald eyes holding a heavy unplaceable emotion. Heat quickly filled your face at the realization of the position you were in which didn’t go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. Without moving too much, V snapped his fingers causing his hair to go white and the last of his tattoos to dissipate. 

     “Are you alright?” You propped yourself up with one arm and used the other to cautiously tuck his hair back, resting an armoured palm on his cheek. 

     “Mmn,” he paused in thought, enjoying the feeling of your touch, “If you are then I am.”

     A corner of your mouth twitched up slightly, “I’m alright; thank you.”

     He took a deep breath in response, resisting the urge to place his face back down against your abdomen. Though all good things come to an end he knew he had to get up. With a grunt, he pushed up and sat up in a kneel, one knee up for him to push off of. However, you were quick to your feet and offered a hand instead, which he graciously accepted. 

     “I’ve got this,” you squeezed his hand before letting go, “Don’t worry about it.”

     Not giving him time to banter or reject your offer, you took off and finished off whatever half-dead demons were strewn about. 

     It didn’t take long for the horde to disappear into nothing but blood and gore. Admittedly, V always enjoys watching you work--especially with hand-to-hand weapons. Whether it is a holdover from Vergil’s distaste for guns or if it is because of the innate sensual nature of the style; he couldn’t help but find it arousing. The way you seemed to show off for him was just a cherry on top. 

     There was something in the way you pranced around that he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by. With all of this considered, V was struggling to not become visibly excited and, much to his dismay, was starting to lose the fight. 

     Once the demons were dead, you waltzed over to V and carefully grabbed his arm, tugging slightly, “Come with me.”

     “Is something the matter, Wanderer?” The lithe man’s hair returned to its dark shade as Nightmare faded from sight.

     You shook your head, flashing him a closed-eye smile, “Nope; just trust me, V.”

     He swallowed hard and nodded, “Very well, lead on.”

     A confused tilt adorned his brow as he tried to piece together what you were doing-- or planning. It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the destination you wanted, a mostly intact hotel. 

     “Could you leave Griffon and Shadow out here, please?” You turned to him, stopping in front of the entrance. 

     His gaze thinned, “May I ask why?”

     “Last time I went into one of these, I got attacked and thrown out a two-story window,” you gave him a falsely doe-eyed smile, “Figure they could be our lookout for a little bit--just until we’re done.”

     V wanted to push for a better answer, knowing that made no sense; however, his curiosity got the better of him and, deciding to play along, summoned both familiars. 

     “Stay here, we will be back shortly-”

     Griffon immediately turned to you, laughing with a slightly impudent attitude to his words, “Be careful with him, don’t need him dying of a heart attack-”

     You laughed, cutting the bird off, “I’ll take care of him; I promise.”

     With that, the two of you disappeared into the building. 

     “I’m going to scout ahead a bit; okay?” You let go of his arm, making V ever-so-slightly frown.

     “Sure.”

     As you went on, V’s eyes quickly drifted to your hips. Lewd thoughts echoed in his mind as he watched you seemingly bounce down the hall, peeking into each room with just the right amount of lean forwards so that he got a perfect view of your body. Each stride of yours had this certain flaunting nature to it as if you were purposefully taunting him. 

     Reaching the final room on the first floor, you decided to head in. Though no one else was aware, you’d already surveyed this building earlier and cleared out every demon within; meaning only small fries--like Empusas--would be here, if at all. This room was the closest to normal there was, having almost zero damage. 

     The room was relatively large; the bathroom was to the left of the doorway and the rest of the room to the right. The bedding was still neatly tucked, the faucet still ran, and there was even a radio with quite an array of classical CDs. 

     You made your way over to said radio with a hum, bending over at the waist to rummage through the music.

     V joined you in the room, looking around in slight confusion before his gaze settled on you again. A sway had found its way to your hips and, despite your flustered and nervous feeling, you smirked. You knew he was looking at you; confirming your hunch about his oddly vague words. 

     Eventually settling on a random assortment of Tchaikovsky's work, you slowly stood upright and placed the disc in the player with a half-surprised laugh at the fact it still worked. When you turned around, a wide-eyed stare was all you could give to V, who was shifting awkwardly and avoiding your eyes. Though you’d hope some light teasing would get him in the mood, you hadn’t expected him to get so hard so quickly.

     Without a word to him, you slipped past him and into the bathroom. Carefully, you placed Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and Revenant on the countertop then washed your hands, using the soap left in the dispenser. Returning to the room while drying your hands, you meandered toward the extremely confused horny goth. 

     As you discarded the towel, V finally spoke up, “Wanderer, what are we doing here?”

     “Well,” you gently grabbed the open of his jacket, a hand on each side, thumbing over the black leather, “After how many times you’ve saved me, I figure that it’s about time you get a reward.”

     His eyes flicked all around your face then down to your forearms, resting his cane against a nearby wall. Cautiously, V snaked his arms around your back and pulled you tight to him, “A reward ?”

     “Yeah,” you leaned closer and placed your nose beside his, lips just barely apart, speaking with a whisper, “If you’re interested…”

     Closing the gap, V leaned into you for both support and to deepen the kiss. An icy hand slid up your back, gracefully dancing across your still-clothed skin, and came to rest on the back of your neck. Your hands slid down his sides, coming to rest at his belt line, hooking your forefingers into the loops of his ever-tightening skinny jeans. 

     Switching to long drawn-out heated kisses, V squirmed under your touch as he felt you pull his hips into yours. Breaking away for a moment, the two of you stayed close, breathing heavily in content. A smirk pulled at his lips as he moved to kiss your up jawline, taking his time, making his way to your earlobe, tugging on it with a bite. 

     V rested with the side of his face against yours. The hand from your neck made its way to your upper back and, mindlessly, the thin man began to sway with you, enjoying the music and relaxing in the moment. You could feel his heart racing from just his chest resting against yours; no wonder Griffon gave you shit about V having a heart attack. 

     Bit by bit your hands left his jeans and went to his corset, undoing the already loose strings further. Taking the hint, V let go of you and removed his jacket then his corset; being tossed onto the bed and floor, respectively. A small huffed moan left his lips as he watched your hands grope up and down his torso.

     “Wanderer…” His voice was low, but brimming with an unmistakable lust.

     Resting your hands on the sides of his hips, you stood for a moment. A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. Leaning closer, you placed a kiss at the crook of his shoulder, followed by a soft bite. V submissively tilted his head away from you, giving you more access to his neck. A smile tugged at your lips as you placed tender kisses, and the occasional bite, along his cold skin. A hand slid to the front of his jeans, finally, your touch wasn’t to just tease him. 

     V placed his hands on your sides, holding you closer, pursed lips hiding a groan that hung in the back of his throat. Though he knows it’s a bit pathetic, just feeling your hand against his cock was proving to be somewhat of a challenge for the inexperienced man to not prematurely finish. 

     Using both hands, you went to remove his belt, before stopping. V’s swaying had become much more pronounced--not having a means of support other than you. 

     You whispered against his neck, “Why don’t we sit down, hm?”

     V, much to your surprise, seemed to stumble over his thoughts, “Any par- particular position?”

     Fully leaning back, you grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed, “Get up here-- do you need help?”

     He gave a nasally laugh, “No, I am alright,” he crawled up onto the bed, kneeling with his knees both on the bed, “Now what?”

     Without answering, you climbed atop the mattress as well, sitting with your back nearly against the headboard, and patted your thighs. Understanding what you wanted, V sat on your lap facing you, wrapping his legs behind you.

     “You’re beautiful, V,” reaching up, you moved a strand of hair from the front of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and leaned in close, speaking right above his lips, “So very beautiful.”

     The gap quickly closed between you and V’s hands cupped your jaw, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks. Your hands went back to work on his belt, making him shift slightly. Feeling that you had the belt fully undone, his lips left yours, and he moved back just enough to look you in the eyes. With kiss-swollen lips slightly agape, V swallowed hard as he heard you unbutton his jeans. 

     Slowly, methodically, you unzipped the fly on his jeans, making sure to note every little micro-movement V made. This had been something you’d wanted for a long time and you were going to make sure to enjoy every last bit. When you finally broke from his gaze to look down, you raised a brow.

     Nervousness pooling in his gut, V noticed your expression, “Is- is something wrong, love?”

     A wide smile tugged at your lips, “No- not at all,” trying to hold back a laugh you looked back up at him, “It's just, with the rest of your outfit, I honestly expected you to be wearing a thong or g-string; not boxer briefs.”

     V let out a laugh of relief, “I see; I-” A stifled moan cut his words short. 

     Resting your hand on the inner side of his thigh, you started to slowly run the side of your thumb up and down his bulge.

     Heavy exhales left his nose as he watched your hand and he moved his hands to the outsides of your shoulders.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw V’s coat on the bed and got a wicked idea, “You know V,” your motions slowed even further causing him to let out a small huff of disappointment, “I really like your voice…”

     His brow twitched slightly, attempting to figure out what you had in store, “Is that right?”

     Carefully, you reached over to his jacket, grabbed his book from an inner pocket, and then handed it to him, “Why don’t you read me something, hm?”

     “Is there a particular poem you’d like?” The prized item was held between you both, the top of it resting gently against your chest.

     You shook your head, “Whatever you think fits best.”

     As he flipped through the book, you resumed your touch. With eyes trained on his crotch, you unzipped the boxer’s fly and heard his page-turning falter slightly. Slipping his cock out into the open air, V let out a small moan, a page pinned between his forefinger and thumb.

     “Now, now, V.” You looked up at him from the tops of your eyes, “You stop, I stop; got it?”

     He pursed his lips and then nodded, continuing with his search. There was a visible shake to his hands as he did his best to play along. Ghosting your fingers along his shaft, you noticed that he had pre-cum already dribbling from his tip and he was heavily twitching; apparently, he was much more sensitive than you’d expected. 

     Rolling his foreskin back slightly, you thumbed over his tip. His page-turning had stopped again, and you hummed slightly, “Find one?”

     With a slightly strained voice, he nodded, “Y-yes, I,” he moaned as you lightly wrapped a hand around his shaft, closing his eyes he continued, “I found something suitable.”

     “Good,” you brought your thumb to your lips and put it in your mouth, cleaning the digit, “The floor is yours,” V’s eyes flicked to you, watching you mindlessly roll your tongue over your lips, and his blush deepened tenfold. 

     A shaky breath left his mouth as he focused on the page before him, “ “What is it men in women do require? / The l-lineaments of Gratified Desire.”.”

     Spitting into your palm, you once again wrapped a hand around his shaft. With slow lazy pumps, you noted the feeling of his cock in your hand. Eyes flicking between his face and dick.

     V’s brow twitched as he let out a hissing groan, “ “Wh-what is it women do in men require? / The lineaments of Gr-gratified Desire.”,” The raven-haired man’s hips unintentionally jerked slightly at the feeling of you putting your forefinger and thumb tips together, encircling his cock, and gently pulling up on his tip. 

     He hunched forwards slightly, his hair falling in front of his eyes, “ “The look of love alarms / Because ’tis f-fill’d with fire; / But the look of s-soft de-deceit- / Shall Win the love-lover’s hire” Ngh-ah~”     The fragile man’s legs constricted your middle ever tighter with each passing moment. Returning to stroking his entire length, you slowed down; not wanting him to finish quite yet. 

     Lips trembling, he continued, “ “S-soft Deceit & Idleness, / These ar-are Beauty’s sweetest dress. He--” 

     A sustained groan left his lips as he leaned forwards even more, placing the top of his head against your lips, which you placed a loving kiss upon, “ “He who binds to himself a- a joy / Dot the winged life d-destroy;”.”

     V bucked his hips slightly upwards, desperate for more friction, speaking with a whimpering moan, “Please, Wanderer, I can’t-”

     Whispering against him, you slowed your motions even further, “You’re almost done, my love… finish it for me; please?”

     Taking a stuttering inhale through his nose and low breathy exhale from his mouth, he licked his lips before continuing, “ “But he who ki-kisses the joy as it flies / Live in Eternity’s sun-sunrise.” Ah-ah~”

     Quickening your hand even faster than before, you placed another elongated kiss against his hair, “Good boy.”

     Tossing the book from his hands V sat upright. Icy fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and gripped the side of your shoulder. The raven-haired man began to thrust his hips into your hand, practically riding your thighs. 

     You smirked and leaned in to place kisses on his collarbones, “I love you, V.”

     “I- Uh-ah~,” another loud noise came from the man as he felt you add you use his pre to slick his cock even more, “I love you too, Wanderer.”

     You upturned your face slightly, kissing his throat up to the underside of his jaw, a confident purr to your words, “You gonna cum for me, V~?”

     The frantic shifting of his hands to cup the sides of your face gave you your answer. V guided your face up to his and placed his forehead against yours. 

     “Please,” his voice was soft and pleading, his mind a hazy lust-filled mess that was unable to come up with any other words. 

     Upon using one hand to stroke him and the other to play with his tip, you felt his thigh muscles tighten and his fingers dig into you. He pushed his lips onto yours, kissing you as if he were never going to be able to again. His hands wandered down your body, groping at your clothes.

     Balling up your shirt in his hands from his grip, he broke off the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you momentarily. The skinny man leaned back and arched his body into yours. 

     He let out a final full-mouthed moan and bucked his hips one last time as his body tensed. 

     Warm silky white fluid decorated your hands as you slowly rode out his orgasm. A feeling of pride filled your heart as you made sure to etch the sight before you into your mind. 

     V’s skin had completely lost all of the inky patches and his chest was heaving. With how far he arched back, you could see the underside of his ribs and the prominent hip dips on each side. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he audibly swallowed a few times. 

     After a moment, he leaned back towards you. 

     Ghostly white hair fell in front of his flushed features as V’s eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips and the two of you shared one more kiss. This time, however, it wasn’t lustful but a sweet loving gesture. With slow long kisses, V placed a forefinger under your jaw. Upon breaking away, you both shared a breathy satisfied huff and he slid his hand to cup your cheek, thumbing over your skin.

     “So,” you relaxed into his touch, “Are we getting attacked or something?” His brow twitched in confusion, “Your hair.”

     “Did I really..?” he leaned away and focused on the strands in front of his eyes which were slowly returning to black, “That’s… I didn’t know that would happen; how strange.”

     You removed your hands and looked at them, a slight playful teasing to your voice, “Little pent up there V?”

     Although you weren’t complaining, V had cum quite a lot harder than you’d expected and made a mess between both of you. 

     With an embarrassed laugh, he turned from your gaze, and rested his hands on his thighs, “Perhaps it is because you are so important to me…” V didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t even tried to masturbate while in this form--not to mention that Vergil hadn’t done anything like that in over twenty years. 

     Humming quietly along to the long-forgotten music, you brought your hand up to your mouth and cleaned it off. V’s eyes immediately flicked to you and he stared at you wide-eyed. Slowly, your eyes drifted to his as you continued. 

     When you went to give your other, less coated hand, the same treatment, you noticed something else and raised your brows in surprise, “That was a quick turnaround.”

     The tattooed man looked down and then back at you, “It’s not my fault you are so… appealing to me,” once more, he leaned his forehead against yours, “Wanderer.”

     “Mnm, well then,” you placed a long kiss against his lips, biting his lower lip after, “Guess my work isn’t done then, hm?”

     “Your work?” V backed away and removed his legs from your waist, running a hand down your middle, resting it just above your hip line, “If it’s all the same to you, this time, I’d much rather be the one to play.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Not me having no clue how to end this lmfao 🛏️📔🛏️ Been a long time since I’ve tried to write V lol I really should write him more Also hope that this was close enough to the request. I just kind of ran with the flow so it’s not exactly the same--the poem reading isn’t really what was asked but I figured it was close enough. Another thing, sorry for the improper dividing of dialogue trees when V’s reading. It was too chaotic for me to feel comfortable leaving in one chunk (which is technically what I should’ve done since it was only V talking) sorry lol Also if you are into like video edit shit, I’ve been re-watching one from “V’s Love” on YouTube titled “V | Slow Down | DMC 5 GMV”. Give it a watch- seriously it’s fans myself gayly oh boy. 📔🛏️📔 Poem(s) Quoted: William Blake: Proverbs of Hell William Blake: Several Questions Answered (full version)

If you like what you read here; please check out the rest of my one-shots on AO3. Comments, reshares, and likes/kudos are appreciated!! Thanks for reading!

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[the-hidden-posts-gt]

Sunny & Gideon (Part 1)

Borrower short story (turning into a series) based on a dream I had where the Giant and Tiny switch bodies (Part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Sidebar 1 | Part 4 (WIP)

Sunshine/Sunny (yeah that’s their name, it was sunny the day they were born and their mom was just like, “yeah, that makes sense, definitely!” 😅) is 5”/~13cm, average height by borrower standards. They have brown hair, with a tiny -not so tiny- patch, bleached slightly lighter than the rest of their hair (Gideon is messy with his hair dye/bleach, and somehow it always gets everywhere. Sunny was not spared.) They have hazel colored eyes, thick brown eyebrows, crooked nose, and an ovular face.

Gideon/G/Giddy(when Sunny wants to mess with him) is a 5’10”, kind of a lanky guy, with purple hair (he dyed it), and thin blonde/light-brown eyebrows. He doesn’t look well rest, ever. He has green-blue eyes, his nose is surprisingly button-shaped, (Idk why, but that’s the description that made itself available in my head) and his face is kinda diamond shaped. (Not sure if that is handsome, but he is supposed to be kind of handsome, just underslept.)

POV Sunny

When I opened my eyes, he wasn’t there. The dizziness had subsided, but where was he?! I needed to find him. He was too big to just vanish. He was human after all. I heard my pulse roar in my ears. Why is it so loud? My breaths were shallow, but also too much.

I heard a door open and close and I saw Gideon’s roommate. He could help. Fighting my instincts, I stood up from the couch. Why are my limbs so bulky? As he walked into the kitchenette I rushed over to him. My legs felt weighted and slow, and yet I surged forward.

“Where’s Gideon?!” My instincts urged me once more to hide from this Bean, but I needed Gideon. I needed to find him! I need to know he’s alright! Gideon had said his roommate was kind. I just hope Gideon was right.

“Dude,” the roommate smiled, far too nonchalant for an emergency. “How high are you right now?”

I blinked, taken aback. This was not the reaction I was expecting. What does that even mean? My surprise taking over instead of the panic, and I was able to really tale in my surroundings.

I am taller than him. I am taller than G’s roommate. I looked around, the room was smaller, everything was smaller than I remembered it. It was honestly claustrophobic, like the walls had squeezed in on me. Everything was … my size, I guess.

My eyes found their way back to my hands, only to realize, these aren’t my hands.

The roommate just smiled, taking a step towards me and patting my (is it mine?) elbow. “Oh yeah, you have fun with that,” he said as he guided me back to the couch where I’d been sitting. I let myself be lead, now staring at the arms attached to me, they were familiar, just … not mine.

As I was sitting down, the couch squeaked, no shrieked. I felt my pulse quicken, as the body’s instincts took over, and I was suddenly standing back up faster than I thought possible. I know that sound? No. This body knew that sound.

“You good, man?”

I didn’t respond. I just slowly picked up the pillow I’d almost crushed. I peered down at the couch, careful not to let the roommate see what I suspected was there, but that didn’t prepare me for seeing my own face staring back at me.

POV Gideon

Light blinded me, as the entire space shook, I had been unceremoniously tossed into a dark and stuffy prison, where there was a bunch of panicked mumbling, and then something had just attempted to crush me. Now there’s an earthquake. Great! I thought sarcastically, before I attempted to steady myself against the wall behind me, as I held up my hand trying to block out the light and possibly understand why my world was suddenly shaken.

Instead of usable answers, I saw a shock of purple hair, before realizing I was staring at a giant version of my face. It stared down at me with eyebrows raised high. I didn’t even know they could reach that part of my forehead.

There was no respite from the chaos, however, as I was hastily snatched up into giant hands. I rapidly went from free, to shooting into the air clasped surprisingly gently within giant hands the size of me, to between two cupped hands, like I’d been caught by a kid who wanted to show a critter to their friends.

“Ugh.” My stomach was not a fan of all this jostling.

“Sorry!” My voice whispered down at me, before we slowed down enough for me to get my barrings. This must be what Sunny feels like all the time. My heart stopped, before speeding up again, to twice the speed. Where is Sunny?! If When I get out of this, I need to find them. I just need to survive whatever giant me is up to.

***

Part 2

That’s it for now. I like these two enough that I’ll probably end up writing about them a lot, so idk stay tuned? 🤷

[queenoftheferns]

Harley, Woodrue, and The Green: An in-depth analysis of Poison Ivy (2022)

(Discalaimer: This is an analysis of vol. 1 -issues 1-6- of the Poison Ivy series by G Willow Wilson, and it doesn’t take any later events into account. This is also over 2,400 words long so buckle up)

Hi!! I watched a video on how to analyse things and was inspired- I loved the first bit of Poison Ivy’s series and had a lot of fun going super in-depth into the writing, symbolism and psychology of Poison Ivy.  So let’s get into it! 

First, to make things easier, I’m going to assign some new meanings to the words “change” and “transformation”.  Although this is not how these words usually work, in this analysis “change” refers to the way you choose to evolve. Change comes from within yourself and is never something forced. “Transformation” on the other hand, is something done to you by someone/something else. It is a violation of your personal autonomy and it erases your identity with a new one deemed as “better” by the other person’s standards. Now. Back to Ivy.

Transformation: What it means to Ivy

This theme appeares a lot in Ivy’s story. Her first instance of transformation is with Woodrue who experiments on her- transforming her body and mind against her will. He’s the one who first introduces this concept of “out with the old- in with the new”- something we end up seeing a lot of in Ivy’s ideology. “Nature is not sentimental” Woodrue says, “the strong consume the weak… this is the virtuous cycle.” The fact that “Virtuous Cycle” is the title of Vol. 1 should tell us a bit about how much Ivy has carried these ideas with her (more on that later).

[ID: A picture from the comic depicting Ivy's flashback to Woodrue's experiment. Narration: "She thinks it's going to kill her." Woodrue: "Nature is not sentimental. The strong consume the weak and then excrete them to fertilize the earth. That is the virtuous cycle. Consume. Digest. Renew." /end ID]

Like many villains (and heroes for that matter), she draws a clear line between her two identities. In her eyes, the identity of “Pamela Isley” represents everything wrong with humanity: she’s shortsighted and can’t see the bigger picture beyond her own emotions and she failed to acheive her goals because of her human need for love and validation. The identity of “Poison Ivy,” however, has embraced her transformation and has let her old identity be completely eradicated. Ivy isn’t human, she’s Greater, More Than human. She can see the bigger picture, the one humans could see if they weren’t so wrapped up in their silly mortal relationships. Poison Ivy is untouchable. 

Until she’s not. Until her body is transformed against her will once again at the end of “Fear State,” but this time not into something stronger or greater. Although Ivy’s anger at Harley (issue #1) is in no way justified, it makes a little more sense when you consider how reminiscent this is of her backstory: changed forever against her will by the actions of someone she loves, cutting her off from her relationships (with Woodrue her green skin and powers/pheremones cut her off from humans, with Harley and Gardner she was cut off from her relationships with plants and the Green), and destroying all of her ideas for what her future would look like. 

[ID: A picture from the comic where Ivy is losing her green skintone and preparing to drink the vial of Ophiocordyceps Lamia. Narration: "Every day I lose a little more of the power of Queen Ivy. Soon enough I'll be back to my old self. As the invincible parts of me die away. But there is one last chance to salvage something from all this. One final opportunity to carry out the will of the Green..." /end ID]

Of course Harley didn’t know that would happen and had just wanted to save her girlfriend, but she, and the readers, can also understand how triggering and painful it must have been for Ivy and that it’s realistic for her to lash out at first. What Harley doesn’t see is this: That Ivy’s spent years hating her past self and seeing Pamela Isley as the epitome of human weakness- and now she’s her again. From here on out, Pamela’s views of humanity as a whole are directly related to her view of herself. She thinks that humans aren’t essential to the environment, so she tells Harley “you saved the parts of me that didn’t mtter”.  She beleives all of humanity must die via the Opiocordyceps Lamia, and although she makes an exception for Harley she doesn’t make one for herself. In her conversation with dream Harley, what they say (“It’s not too late to fix a mistake.”/“I wish that were true.” etc.) could be applied to either humanity as a whole or to Ivy’s view of herself as broken and unfixable. And, as her view of herself evolves, her view of humanity evolves with it. 

[ID: Image one. Ivy and Harley are having an argument after Ivy has lost her connection to the Green. Harley: "We were trying to save your life!" Ivy: "You saved the parts of me that didn't matter!" Image two. A shot of a man consumed by the Ophiocordyceps Lamia. Narration: "Sucking up every resource on this planet until all that's left is a ball of superheated concrete. The only way to save this beatiful marble is to get rid of us. Every one of us. Even me. Because there is only one person who deserves all this beauty. And that's you." /end ID]

To carry out her new plan, Pamela goes “back to the beginning” and steals the Opiocordyceps Lamia from Jason Woodrue. It’s clear she still feels that she needs something from Woodrue in order to be Poison Ivy- after all, he’s her creator. Her breakup with Harley and her plans going forward seem to have grown from her desperate desire to prove that she’s still not entirely human, and won’t make human mistakes. In the first few issues, we get the sense that she would (at this point in her story) rather die than be Pamela Isley again. For her, escaping Pamela Isley means embracing the ideology of the man that killed her. Of course, Ivy doesn’t see it that way, but it’s not hard for us to see in the way she attempts to transform the other humans against their will like what Woodrue did to her. Watching the human’s shock and betrayal fade into awe that the beauty of the Green is reminiscent of how Ivy herself learned to love her connection to the Green despite the pain of her original transformation.

[ID: A scene from the comic where Janet is talking with Ivy while being consumed by the Ophiocordyceps Lamia. Narration: "Janet is part of something else now. Part of the life cycle of this riverbank." Janet: It's so beautiful. So clean. Like starting over." Ivy: "Right? Now you can see it too." Janet: "I want to see everything like you see. Take me with you. I don't want to go back to... to that." /end ID]

She also inherits Woodrue’s view of the natural world as something detatched from humanity with no room for human kindness and love (JW: “Nature is not sentimental”/PI: “Nature isn’t cruel, just efficient”). The same way Ivy unknowingly spreads Woodrues ideology, she is also unknowingly spreading his mind control virus in the form of Opiocordyceps Lamia. Throughout the story, transformation is a force of evil, violating someone’s autonomy in an attempt to make them a vessel for something greater. Yet the creator can never really control what people transform into…

Change: What it means to Ivy

Change is never on the table for Ivy. She is transformed by Woodrue and in turn tries to transform the planet and humanity. In every instance, whether it be about society or Ivy herself, her mindset is always that change is too late. Our life courses are set in stone by our own nature unless we are transformed by some greater force. This is why Ivy seeks out Woodrue after losing her connection to the Green, and why she is so focused on following the “will of the Green” rather than doing what she wants to. She doesn’t trust herself to make the right decisions (she’s been wrong too many times) so instead she wants some Other Force to transform her into someone who doesn’t make human mistakes. This rejection of change and worship of transformation was the basis of Ivy’s ideology. Until…

…Harley Quinn! Seeing Harley in this comic always brings with it a mild sense of disbelief. She seems so out of place within the comic’s mood and aesthetic… and I realized that it’s for a good reason. Harley Quinn is the epitome of change, she’s multifaceted and unpredictable and her path in life is never fixed. First she was going to become a gymnast, but then she was a psychologist, but then she fell in love with the Joker, but then she left him, but then she went back, and just when you think you see a pattern, when you think you know what she’ll do next, Harley does something else. She breaks up with the Joker for good, she falls in love with Ivy, they break up but not really, she starts to become a hero but her redemption arc itself is filled with messiness and unpredictability and all of it was her choice. Sure there was more than a little manipulation on the Joker’s part, but at the end of the day Harley chose to jump into that vat of acid— she wasn’t pushed.

[ID: Image one. A picture from the Gardener Files comic showing Ivy in a cell meeting Harley. Bella's Narration: "After years trapped in an echo chamber of her own dark thought, a woman was place in an adjacent cell. A young woman madle in love with a monster, trapped in a cycle of abuse. Harley Quinn." Image two. A scene from the end of the Fear State saga with Harley and Ivy talking. Ivy: "There's one more thing I need to to..." Ivy pulls Harley closer with vines. Harley: "Hoo-boy... Pammy... I know this is a lot to process and you don't like when I get all meddly... but I'm trying to be a good guy and save the city and junk-" Ivy: "Harley, stop talking." Harley: "Okay." The two kiss. Image three. Harley and Ivy from Ivy's dream in Poison Ivy (2022). Ivy: "I can't. I've gone to far to turn back now." Dream Harley: "It's never too late to fix a mistake." /end ID]

In every respect, Harley’s mere existence is the most persuasive argument against Ivy’s ideology. Although this might seem like a roadblock in their relationship, it’s actually the reson Ivy loves her so much. Harley’s ability to change is everything Ivy wishes humanity (and herself) could be. If more people were like Harley, not held back by societal norms and not paralyzed by the fear that it’s “too late” to change, then maybe Ivy could have more hope for humanity. (I can imagine Ivy, bored and self-righteous, meeting Dr. Quinzel for the first time, thinking she knows exactly what to expect from a young, naive psychologist. Then beginning to fall for Harley as she smashes Ivy’s expections again and again. That’s what a good joke is after all: building up an expectation and then subverting it. Anyways. Back to Ivy).

Ivy's Arc

Ultimately, Ivy/Pamela’s story is about her relationship to her own humanity, and the other characters’ role in the plot is to tug Pamela back and forth between two perspectives: Humanity (and by extension, Pamela) being irredeeamble and in need of a deadly transformation, vs humanity (and Pamela) having inherent value and being capable of changing and turning things around. Woodrue beleives that the only way to thrive in this dying world is to take advantage of the struggle around him to benefit himself. This is reflected in George Holloran, the boss at the packaging company Ivy works at for all of ten minutes (issue #4). Like Woodrue, he accepts the state of the world with no attempt to change anything, deciding to climb to the top of the hierarchy instead of trying to dismantle it. The guys at the bar (#1) also mirror this with their focus on satisfying their own desire rather than treat a woman with respect and (unlike Harley) do not stray even a little from Ivy’s expectations. They and Woodrue represent Ivy’s worst assumptions about humanity: that everyone is ruled by their own desire for power and pleasure and are incapable of changing or growing because of how society has shaped them. 

[ID: A panel of Jason Woodrue as Floronic Man. Woodrue: "This planet is too far gone to save, Pamela. It needs a revolution, but all it wants is a band-aid. So we might as well make millions selling band-aids." /end ID]

[ID: A scene where George Halloran is being consumed by the Ophiocordyceps Lamia. George: "It's just hard, you know? To be the boss. At first you want everybody to like you. Th-then you realize it doesn't work. They hate you anyway. Because you're all in the same system. And the system chews people up. S-so you start to do things you shouldn't because you start to hate them back. You f-figure out that fear is more effective than love. And that's... when it all... goes dark." /end ID]

On the other hand, however, are characters like Jesslyn and Timothy at the packaging company (#4), Carrie at the motel (#3), Jenny Bolger at the restaurant (#2), and of course, Harley Quinn. Other than Harley, all of these characters are people struggling to make meaningful change in the confines of their normal lives under capitalism. Whether it’s through art, human connection, or focusing on a small peice of earth you can control, these people show Ivy what change looks like. It’s not as flashy and sudden as Ivy’s plan to transform everyone, and these aren’t the kind of stories Ivy would’ve known about had she simply looked on the news. But the willingness of all these people to at least try to help the world and each other is enough to make Ivy question her assumptions on the fixedness of human nature. 

[ID: Two panels, one with Ivy and one with Carrie, the lady Ivy meets at the motel. Narration: "It's too early to make exceptions. Yet somehow, that's exactly what I find myself doing." Ivy: "-I don't want to get dirt all over you." Carrie: "Well. Suit yourself." /end ID]

When on her own, Ivy has no particular character growth, but when she is with these people, the good people, or when she has memories of Harley, those are the moments we see her grow and change. Ivy says she has faith in the world while working with Carrie, and her will to live comes back after sleeping with Jesslyn. And of course, everything always comes back to Harley, the love of her life. In the end, Ivy defeats Woodrue not because of her ideology but because he made the mistake of threatening Harley. This is the moment a lot of her developement has been leading up to. She’s lost all her powers, even the ones given to her by the Lamia. Like when she first became Poison Ivy, Woodrue has complete control over her body. Like before, she had trusted his science when she shouldn’t have. Manipulated, weak, and abandoned by the Green, there is barely anything left of Poison Ivy. She is almost entirely human. Almost entirely Pamela. Finally, she has no choice but to rely on her human instincts- her love for, and desire to protect, another human. And it works. Pamela Isley succeeded where Poison Ivy failed because of  her humanity- not in spite of it.

[ID: A scene with Ivy and Woodrue in the comic, Woodure is forcing Ivy to hold a knife to her own neck via the Ophiocordyceps Lamia. Narration: "-simply have to accept that you've failed. Your enemy has won. And no one is coming to help." Woodrue: "And then I'm going to track down your little blonde girlfriend. --And I'm doing to turn her inside out. Not for any scientific purposes. Just because I can." Narration: "But that's not what happened this time." /end ID]

This is what ultimately opens her eyes to how, actually, these human instincts and human desires are what’s going to save the world. Her desire to protect Harley is the same as her deisre to protect the planet, which is the same as Carrie’s drive to save the plot of land by the motel, which is the same as Jenny’s drive to create art, and Jesslyn and Timothy’s drive to reach out to others and support each other in a hostile environment. After meeting a child and sensing the ecosystems he contained, Pamela comes to the conclusion that “we are the Green”. She realizes that our humanity is a feature, not a bug. We were designed to be here, and to love and protect the world and people around us. It’s when some people deny their humanity (for personal gain like Woodrue, or fear and self-hate like Ivy) that we start causing harm. 

[ID: A scene from the comic where Ivy is picturing the faces of Jesslyn, Jenny and the nice guy from the restaurant. Narration: "Home. The only home any of us will ever have. Because nobody without billions of dollars to burn is going anywhere. And because-- after all-- we're not so bad. We can still gorw things. Gardens. Communities. Friendships. Against all odds. I realize, here at the end of everything, that I've been fighting the wrong people. Because it was easier. Easier than fighting the real enemies." /end ID]

[ID: A scene where Ivy is reaching out to a child who's handing her back her scarf. Narration: "--but when I look at this child, I see more than just one individual. We float in our own ecosystem of symbiotic bacteria. We exhale and the trees inhale. Billions of tiny organisms call our bodies home. To the microscopic beings alive on his skin, this child is the entire universe." Ivy: "...We are the Green." /end ID]

In eating Woodrue’s corpse (Iconic, by the way), she shows that she understands now that the blame for what he did to her lies with him, not her. In the end, she tells Harley that she “made me understand that we have to protect what is truly precious.” In other words, helped Ivy understand that protecting people is protecting the Green. She signs her name as “Pammy”, not “Ivy” or “Ives”. Maybe this is just because Harley calls her that, or maybe it’s because the identity of Pamela Isley has finally proven herself to Ivy.

[ID: A comic scene of Harley Quinn reading Ivy's letter (which is also the narration.) Narration/Letter: " --you've made me understand that we have to protect what is truly precious. I love you. And only you. Until the end of the world. No matter what. Always and forever, Your Pammy." /end ID]

If you read this far, THANK YOU!!! I love analysing stuff and hope to put out some more Poison Ivy analysis in the future. In the meantime, I really, really appreciate any comments, questions, or even disagreements. I would love nothing more than to have a conversation about Poison Ivy in the notes.