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#so i won't tag all the fandoms and such
suis0u · 1 year
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Someone wanted to know how many WIPs I have currently, so here you go.
The first two pictures are showing works I only work on from time to time. They are my go-to if I don't have motivation for anything else but want to colour stuff.
The Borderlands artworks in the middle I definitely want to finish soon.
The last picture shows all the drawings I currently work on and a bunch of sketches I want to use/draw clean at some point.
I think I have some more unfinished stuff in my portfolios, but no need to show them because I don't know if I'll ever finish them (rather not I think) ... also, there is a bunch of stuff in one of my sketchbooks, but that are also works I don't want to upload (maybe some day) because it's just for myself and mostly just me drawing forests and a lot of trees in different kind of ways, ha.
(And I haven't forget this list here!)
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technovillain · 21 days
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hey. can you guess what character headcanon i'm really attached to.
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seventeendeer · 1 month
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this isn't at all meant to be condescending or finger-waggy because 100% we all have blind spots like this, but I'm really, really hoping that the people who never found Gaiman's approach to his own fandom concerning in any way will take this all as a learning moment.
he was an older, hyper-famous author engaging directly and frequently with an online audience of largely vulnerable young marginalized people. he presented himself as cultured and worldly, and made himself approachable as someone to go to for advice, encouragement and "wisdom." his manner of speech was extremely pathos-heavy and clearly intended to be comforting and encouraging in exactly the way his target demographic needed it to be to swallow every word. the way he spoke about stories and creativity was designed to make young creative hopefuls feel special and important, while sweeping real analytical techniques under the rug - in hindsight, likely so no one would think too critically about the disturbing amount of patriarchal abuse played for cheap shock value and voyerism in his own body of works.
Gaiman saw a target demographic that was desperate for an older creative role model to tell them they were worth something, and he exploited that pain to twist a narrative around himself where he was king and any critique leveled at him or his works were the enemy.
to be clear, he could have been innocent. he could totally have been just an out-of-touch old man saying nice things to people because he wanted to be kind and he thought he was a lot smarter than he really was. red flags are warning signs, not a surefire way to tell if someone is actually "secretly shitty."
but if you used to look up to him, PLEASE take this moment to revisit the ideas you absorbed from him. did you take his words to heart because they seemed to have objective merit? or did you take them to heart because it felt good to believe what he said? do you still hold these values? does knowing he was intentionally manipulating his online audience make you less certain? do you need more information from a different source before deciding one way or another?
again, I'm just really, really hoping people on here will take a moment to reevaluate the ideas and opinions he's injected into tumblr fandom culture, because his reach is immense and he has absolutely been manipulating popular perception of relevant topics to gain further influence and control the narrative around both his own and Pratchett's legacy. please, please take this moment to notice what he's been doing - and next time someone tries to pull the same shit, hopefully we'll be able to apply what we've learned from experience.
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harpoonsnotspoons · 4 months
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I feel like it's worth noting that this was only made because of a joke comparison. Chat I don't even like Danganronpa </3
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J stands for Junko (Goes and jumps off a cliff)
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luckyartdrawer · 18 days
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BEWITCHINGGG!!! And I love you
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*Flashbangs him at you and RUNS*
vvvv Extras and Yapping below! vvvv
Close up-! Hey, wait a minute...
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Tee-hee :3
For those who don't know, that outfit and pose actually is Anatole's from The Great Comet of 1812. Why give this look to Sun? Because when that mf Anatole isn't being a bastard scoundrel he acts/sings so amazingly, a bit fruity, and unhinged.
GIVE ME CROSSOVERS OR GIVE ME DEATH
Honestly I just like imagining the goobers as the people singing when I listen to music sometimes and this just fit so perfectly. Moon would be Pierre and istg it works so well-
The shading was a bit hard because I was trying to use yellow light on a yellow goober, but then I added the blue light and it was smooth sailing from there.
Thank y'all for looking! I feel like not a lot of people know the musical online (or I'm just oblivious) so I feel like I just threw a flashbang into an unsuspecting crowd.
My favorite songs are Letters, Charming, and Pierre & Anatole, they're all pretty story heavy but I love it. (The Ball definitely has the most unhinged Anatole, though the wording can be a bit yikes a few times.)
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Some of the Most Story Moments of All Time:
Hand kisses
Forehead touches
First kiss between character who has been pining for ages and character whose feelings have always been hidden/unclear
Desperate weeping in the arms of someone the character loves
Desperate weeping in the arms of someone the character hates, because that's the only person there
Someone whose head is lowered in shame having it lifted up with a gentle hand under the chin, only to see forgiveness in the eyes of someone who has every right not to give it
Trying not to cry, only for something small and inconsequential to shatter the character completely
Noses brushing before or after a kiss
When they're kissing and crying at the same time, tears mingling
When a character's friend or beloved is in danger and they go quiet and/or silent, and anyone who knows them knows they just got a lot more dangerous
A character stroking someone's hair
When they know they have a lot they need to say to each other-good, bad, or other-but they're both so exhausted that they just sink to the ground, words temporarily put aside for rest, for listening to each other's quiet breaths
When a character has one specific thing they always use to get through to/comfort someone they love, and one day they have to use it under extreme circumstances (the other character is brainwashed, for instance) and it works
Similarly, a character stepping closer to a brainwashed character, ignoring the warnings, because "I know you won't hurt me"
When two characters who have had several almost-kisses finally get their kiss
Dancing but with a threat behind it; the assassin dancing with the target, and they both know who the other is, but they're both too careful to make a scene, so they sway in each other's arms, faces serene, as if one isn't holding a knife on the other and the other doesn't have a gun resting against the one's back
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utility-player · 2 years
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Food for y'all on this holiest of fingers in his ass sundays
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polarisbibliotheque · 4 months
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Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader
Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost
Pairing: Vergil x Reader
Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?
TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.
Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.
In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)
Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!
Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News
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Cirice, by Ghost
“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”
It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.
That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.
“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.
Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.
It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.
None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.
“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.
“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”
“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.
“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.
“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.
“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.
“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”
“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”
As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.
Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.
“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”
“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”
“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”
“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”
“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.
“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”
Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.
“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”
“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.
“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”
“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.
“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.
“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”
“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”
“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.
“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.
“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”
“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”
“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.
“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”
“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.
“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”
“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”
“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”
Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.
And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.
There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.
“Veeeeergil…”
His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.
It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.
Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.
He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.
“Vergil…?”
Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.
“Mother?”
His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.
*
When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.
It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.
Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.
Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.
“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”
“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.
“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”
“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”
“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”
“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”
The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.
“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”
Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.
It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.
“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”
“You are not my mother.”
“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”
With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.
*
There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.
Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.
Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.
It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.
He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.
You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.
You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.
If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.
Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.
And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.
Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.
Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.
For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.
And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.
*
Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.
Blood. You were bleeding.
Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.
Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.
That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.
“You are lost…”
It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.
“You are lost without me…”
“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.
You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.
“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”
“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.
They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.
“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”
You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.
He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.
“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”
“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”
“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”
“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”
“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.
The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.
And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.
You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.
“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”
“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.
The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.
Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.
“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.
“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.
As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.
Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.
You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.
In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.
Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.
And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.
As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.
A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.
His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.
“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.
“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.
“You are lost…! Lost…!”
The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.
He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.
“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”
“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.
As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.
“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.
The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.
Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.
“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”
“Neither am I of you.”
His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.
I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you
*
*
*
*
“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”
Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.
Probably both.
The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.
The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.
You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.
Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.
So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.
And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.
“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.
“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.
“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”
“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”
No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.
Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.
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acearohippo · 2 months
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I love fandoms, especially witnessing what fans take away from source material and how fans interpret it based on their experiences. Not to mention the stark difference of interaction between new fans, casual fans, experienced fans, and long-term fans.
I say this because the SVSSS fandom has continuously fascinated me in insisting in discussions that there are parallels between Shen Jiu and Luo Binghe (tell don't show), but in their fanworks, I just see parallels between Luo Binghe and Yue Qingyuan (show don't tell).
And it's not even (fully) a case where they're blending character personalities because they want what the other dynamic has, it's just how the characters are based on canon in two different timelines.
All of this to say, perhaps original draft PIDW (NOT original!PIDW nor pre!SY PIDW which are completely different) was supposed to revolve around the dynamic between SJ and YQY vs SJ and LBH. Perhaps YQY was to be the last hour mastermind, the true foil to LBH.
And fandom is just circling this idea without realising it because, once again, the unreliable narrator that is SY has already convinced this fandom that any version of SJ has to be a/the villain, regardless if it's through his own actions or baseless rumours.
Warning, run-on sentence ahead.
I don't know, mans, but it's gotta mean something that LBH and YQY have such similar life beats of being orphaned and having a tough life but remaining kind/compassionate because they had someone to live for until they didn't which left them empty until they found (or refound in YQY's case) one (1) man to obsess over in an uncomfortably intrusive way with no regards for his feelings and rejections, eventually reaching a position as the most powerful being in existence with a huge caveat that their sword is 83% of that power and is slowly killing them which did nothing to soften said man of their obsession's into showing them kindness leading to the ultimate confrontation between the two in which only one could survive and keep their obsession, not that it mattered because neither of them got to experience his feelings reciprocated, except in another timeline where the same things are happening until their obsession suddenly stops rejecting their (still intrusive) advances even if he is acting a bit silly, but hey take advantage while you can and take advantage they did because now they have that reciprocated feeling (except one still "won" as he gets to keep him for himself) and be thankful that all it took was, in their perspective, a near death fever that drastically changed his personality and most likely left him crippled in some other way, preventing their obsession from not NOT needing them anymore, all-in-all fulfilling their desire to be relied upon again, hooray! 😋😁✌🏽
In all seriousness, at the end of the day people are going to draw connections between characters that fit whatever narrative they understood from the story. SVSSS fandom just seems to be trying to convince others of one narrative while believing on a deeper level of another narrative. It's amusing and makes following the fandom fun.
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sabo-torao · 3 months
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some weeks old sabolaw drawing i didn't wanna let marinate on my pc
my nephew watched me draw this and asked me if they could "please be at a wedding". so they're officially guests at franky and robin's wedding <3
this is also my official "law is shorter" headcanon post 🥳🥳 cheers to the short king
bonus wips i didn't have the energy to fix/clean of them actually dancing together (or attempting to) under the cut!
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they're insufferable
(reference for the first wip here, reference for the second one here)
references for their outfits (and sabo's hairstyle) from none other source than one piece grand collection; here's the link for sabo's outfit, and the link for law's. enjoy!
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muirmarie · 6 months
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modern trek erasing mccoy is genuinely my villain origin story
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 2 months
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Hi? Gosh how do I even start with this :'D
I know it's been ages since I've last popped up on here. I've been debating when to post this for a while, but I kept adding to my draft more and more and now it's the end of JULY omgg I felt so guilty disappearing with zero updates but then thought my birthday would be the best day to finally address this considering it'll feel less random? idk but Ive always celebrated my bday with you guys and I'd feel so bad answering your kind asks without me at least explaining why I was gone for months.
Truth be told, I was dealing with a lot of stuff irl. health issues and sudden declining grades that left me stumped and drained for months now- along with technical issues like having to replace some parts of my computer that took a while for me to find to even draw digitally, which I didn't have the time for anyway with how tired and weary I felt every day.
I'm frankly shaken up by a lot of shit rn and I don't know how to be active online with this burden on my chest- Especially as it's been a while since I've even looked at utmv related content and my motivation dwindled. I swear I'd hype myself up to post or reblog something- but I'd see just how much I've missed or the overwhelming amount of posts I'd need to go through and I'd feel so swamped with exhaustion and most importantly guilt, for not clearing the air up sooner to reassure you guys that I'm, y'know, alive, and not dead in a ditch somewhere. And I'd procrastinate cause typing it all out is hard and I'd give up halfway every time and it's just not fair to you all!
I thought I was handling it well when I started going out and socializing more, instead of staying cooped up at home on my computer all day. and in the first draft of this post I made months ago I was gonna detail some of the fun plans I had, for my life and for this blog :D but relaxing my strict study schedule and letting go a bit of my tight routine, thinking it was better than wringing myself dry to keep it up, backfired horribly, to say the least.
I know right?? so silly to be hung up on stupid shit like studies of all things! but this is a very important thing for me considering my career plans and the competitivity encouraged by everyone I'm surrounded by, the pressure of keeping up adding to my already stressful days. I had to fix myself up first and I couldn't handle the strain nor interact with people and thinking of jobs and exams sapped my energy so much it's frankly embarrassing. writing this feels so cheesy too and it frustrates me to know I could've come back a month earlier if it weren't for that, but I also know putting all of this into words then would just sound like incoherent venting (not that this is very different tbf) and I wasn't in the right headspace to address my absence, or anything really- I didn't want everyone to see me return when I couldn't muster up a genuinely positive message, let alone talk to anyone with a shadow of my usual cheer
I feel like a complete mess and It drives me up the wall how depressed I've gotten. I debated deleting this blog so many times 'cause the fear of disappointing my audience and my friends, for lack of a more fitting sentiment, made me feel even shittier. I'm constantly thinking if this wall of text is worth posting, or if it's better not to burden you all with all my sappy troubles as if it's the end of the world. Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not trying to dramatize this situation, but I don't think I'm up to pretending I'm all sunshine and enthusiasm you're all accustomed to.
So sorry for worrying you all! I'll try to catch up, deliver some missed birthday gifts, and answer some asks while I'm at it! Again, I can't state how much I appreciate your support throughout the years. It's frankly a miracle I kept any of you around with how much I keep popping and leaving at random with no warning. I definitely can't promise for my stay to be without a hitch, and if you don't mind an inconsistent schedule you're free to stay of course, but I'm afraid I can't sustain the pace I had when I first started this blog. I'll keep posting art, but lower my activity in the fandom sphere to reduce the strain on my mental health. so fewer rants and walls of text, more art, and less stress overall. Love you all and thanks for waiting for this long <3
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erabu-san · 1 year
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Hmm I apologize again for the rant !
It is not the first time I am doing it. I might forgot to put "please don't tag it as ship" under my drawing of tighnari cyno. Please, do not !
I love them as best friend, I love them as brother/found family, I don't mind the queerplatonic relationship at all
But their romantic side make me pretty uncomfortable. No hate ! It is my own taste.
Shippers are always welcomed and I am so glad you like my content 💕 but all my art concerning them (unless I tag the ship) are purely platonic. I just ask for some respect of my taste and not reblog my art with the ship tag.
I don't want to block, because I am genuinely glad you enjoy my work and as a young artist, it means a lot for me. Thank you so much 🙇 !! But as a human, I can't deny how uneasy it makes me feel.
Thank you for understanding !
#rant#I blame nobody#i am clearly not used to block ): I should tho but I know those who tag ship are not mean at all </3#it is fine if you don't know.#but i saw people reblogging my art with shiptag even if i said “do not”#my art is like my only safe place please respect it#this ship is so popular and I clearly stop to interact with the fandom because of that#i clearly ignore when I saw one in my timeline /dashboard becausz I can't do nothinf against it except masking the account#but I beg you. not. under. my. post.#not in my DM#why i feel obligated to justify myself 😭#but yeah !!! the ship is valid and full of greenflag !! wholesome !!#but I only enjoy them platonically !!! please respect 😭😭😭 I SWEAR I AM DESESPERATE WHY IT IS SO HARD FOR SOME TO RESPECT THAT OMG#gosh on twitter someone said me “ignore ??? what did you expect ??? it is the most popular ship”#I AM TRYING I AM LITERALLY NOT SEARCHING FOR FANART 😀#feeding myself with my own food#that's why I am so grateful for people who support me. thank you. 😭#and how could I ignore a comment under my post ??? interaction are so important for me I read everything#ANYWAY SORRY FOR RANTING !!! IT IS CLEARLY A /NOTMEAN POST !!!#next time I won't forgrt “do not tag it as ship”#but urgh if I do this I have to do in every post ???? 🤨#and what if I draw tighnari cyno kaveh but I don't mind ship with kaveh ??? 🤨🤨🤨 (plz still don't)#tHERE IS PLENTY OF CYN0N4RI ACCOUNT IF YOU WISH TO SEE MORE CONTENT OF THEM !! Please support them <<3 mine are platonic !#but clearly. imagine you are obsessive about two characters <<3#but their popular ship is the one who make you the most uncomfy 😀#so you decided to just stop looking at fanart and not bothering anyone 👍👍#but it came under your post and your DM 😟#AAA SORRY I AM SALTY I SWEAR I AM NOT USED TO FEEL LIKE THIS ):<#anyway plz take care ilove you mwah 🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕
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kittyandco · 1 year
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breathes in
okay. i have literally never seen anyone advocate for hans' potential redemption because he "never did anything wrong," or solely because he was abused and therefore free of all blame (and yes, his abuse is CANON), or ESPECIALLY because he's hot. ever.
what fans are saying is that they want someone who's been hurt by the people who should have been protecting him and raising him and loving him finally achieving some kind of freedom from such deeply ingrained trauma, beginning by making amends with the people he hurt. his reasons are inarguably linked to his past; he didn't decide to commit attempted regicide and treason out of nowhere, and we know that. he saw it as an out. a desperate, last-ditch effort.
we want to see him move on. because, decidedly, he was not dealing with what he went through in any meaningful way. he was pursuing something that he thought would free him from constant inadequacy, but it was only reinforcing the same hierarchy that, in part, pushed him to this point. he wanted to achieve some semblance of freedom by escaping the southern isles, and he felt that this was his only way... but in many ways he would be living in the shadow of his family. he'd be proving that power & status is all that matters, no matter the cost, like his family (especially his father) taught him.
he's been treated as nothing more than a servant, a doormat, an easy target. why would he suddenly stop believing these things about himself the moment he became king? that's just it: if he takes the steps to redeem himself in some way, he may be able to break free of this self-image. he can be better than his family, and especially his father, who he doesn't want to become but whom he is dangerously close to becoming.
and in a film like frozen, where "letting go" and acknowledging your pain head-on, seeing hans actively not do these things, rather painting over it all with power and status, hurts a little. if you relate to any of the characters in any capacity, then you probably understand the hurt that comes with denying your feelings, your experiences that got you here, all your traumas and fears, and how quickly it can spiral. how it can turn you into a different person entirely, often a person that you don't like being.
that's what hans represents for so many people. for many, he's what we could become (hence why he's symbolic of the evil mirror from the original tale). but he also represents protection in an unsafe situation that you feel that you cannot escape. he blends in easily with any situation; he had to learn this for his survival. all we want is to see a reality where he doesn't have to do any of this anymore, just like we wanted to see elsa free of the fears of herself and her surroundings that held her back, and it begins with him being honest about what he did and trying to make amends.
i could go on and on about the ways i personally relate to him. but these are just a few examples and how redemption plays a role.
this is not "apologia." (i know it's coming.) this is simply an explanation as to why people might connect with someone like hans and would want to see him heal. in a film about healing relationships with oneself, a redemption arc would fit right in, and would show people that it's never too late. elsa & anna don't have to forgive him, but the fact that he might be able to try to seek forgiveness and a brighter fate is enough.
you don't have to sympathize with him, or even empathize with him. you can say he belongs in the trash can forever for all i care. but don't misrepresent our wish to see someone we connect with improve meaningfully and the reasons why we would want it.
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buttercupshands · 6 months
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mixing is in progress...
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anistarrose · 3 months
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a post: steven universe was good actually and it's ridiculous how people act like the only redeeming quality was queer rep
me: yeah! exactly!
the ending of the post: unlike the owl house which sucked and didn't have any redeeming qualities outside of queer rep
me:
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