Want To Play Some FOM So Bad, But Work Has Been Kicking My Butt This Week.

Okay but why does one of my family members have a pink kid-sized Vergil chair at their house

(drawing of Vergil for size reference on just how small this thing is and also because the idea of him sitting in a pink chair meant for a five-year-old is funny to me)

Rainy day in Kyoto

Something something when your dragon boyfriend sheds his immortal state to save you from an evil scroll

For those monster x reader story connoisseurs out there, I am genuinely curious about something.

In the stories you read, do you prefer the monster be more like an OC (i.e., a character that is named, has a more detailed physical description, and has a backstory and unique personality) or a more generic monster (similar to the reader character, who is nameless but has some surface level physical or personality descriptions)?

Binged Castlevania Nocturne in two days and ngl it made me miss the hot mess that was Alucard, Trevor, and Sypha's fantastic little murder trio.

Thinking about a self conscious Nanami Kento following the Shibuya incident he made it out alive okay, good men don't perish in this house

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader cw: body image issues, angst, hurt/comfort

Nanami looks at himself in the mirror and studies his disfigured flesh with thinly veiled disdain. His stomach churns as his gaze follows the ugly, reddish grooves that twist and mar half of his face. The macabre view of his teeth as a result of the tearing to his right lip is no pretty sight either. Nanami certainly never believed himself to be an exceptionally handsome man before all this...but now...

He finds it difficult to face you, knowing that every time the two of you go out in public together, people stare. Of course, you've reassured Nanami countless times that it doesn't bother you in the slightest and that he shouldn't be ashamed, but being the conscientious man that he is, Nanami can't help but worry that he's becoming a burden to you.

The whispers of the people that pass you by certainly don't ease those anxieties in the slightest.

"What happened to his face?"

"Look, he's wearing an eye patch. How weird."

"Why's a cutie like her hanging out with that ugly mug?"

"You can see his teeth! Gross!"

"She must be a gold digger. No way anyone would willingly date someone who looks like that."

Each of those callous remarks, especially those that question your character, feel like a ruthless punch to the gut. You furiously defend him of course--everything short of spitting venom at the people who've uttered such cruel words--but Nanami knows that he's dragging you down. He knows that he's selfishly ostracizing you from the rest of society by staying by your side. He knows it's not fair to you. It isn't right to subjugate you to all this...

If he were a better man, Nanami would have cut ties with you long ago.

"Kento..."

He feels your arms wrap around his waist from behind. You've caught him staring in the mirror again, and at three in the morning no less. Nanami can't help but feel utterly ashamed.

"I'm sorry, love. Did I wake you?"

He feels you shake your head back and forth against his back, the warmth of your body, so recently bundled up beneath the covers, seeps through his t-shirt. It's calming, just like your touch.

"Do you mind turning around for me?"

Incapable of ever denying you, Nanami does as you wish. He turns to face you, too tired to try and hide his melancholic expression (not that you wouldn't have seen through his thinly veiled facade anyway). Your own expression doesn't waver as you look at him. In your eyes Nanami sees neither disgust nor pity nor anger. Instead Nanami sees what he always sees--love.

"I love you," You say, as if it were the most matter of fact thing in the world. "Every day when I wake up in the morning and see your sleeping face next to mine, I feel so incredibly grateful that I can hardly breathe."

Your hands rise up, reaching forward to gently cup Nanami's face. He winces slightly at your touch, his scared tissue is still sensitive, but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't think he ever could.

"Kento, I know that adjusting to these scars--both the ones on the surface and the ones inside--hasn't been easy. I know that there will be bad days,"

Your thumbs tenderly caress Nanami's cheek, tracing the bones that now protrude there thanks to the weight he'd lost. He realizes that he should be feeling self-conscious right now, with how close you are to the ugly parts of him, but he doesn't. Not when you're looking at him like he'd just hung the moon and stars.

"Nanami Kento, you are stuck with me. I'm going to stand by you, through the good and the bad. Through all of it. That's what people who love each other do."

You smile at him and Nanami's chest tightens to the point of pain, breath catching harshly in his throat as his vision begins to swim. It comes crashing down in waves, all the doubt and all the pain he'd held inside. He can't hold himself up anymore and Nanami slumps against you, burying his face into your shoulder as he lets the tears silently flow.

And like always, you hold him.

“What do you mean you’re afraid of heights?”

Your new husband stares at you in utter shock. His inhumanly large eyes round into saucers as he searches your face for answers.

“I didn’t think it would be a problem.” You admit with a shrug.

Your husband groans and hides his face in his clawed hands. The feathers that coat his body, long, black and elegant like a raven’s, rustle with each anxious shift of his body. He’s mumbling something under his breath, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

“It’s…not a problem is it?”

Your own anxiety begins to swell. Surely something so insignificant as you being afraid of heights wouldn’t lead an annulment of this marriage. Not after everything you’ve sacrificed to make it to this village in the first place.

Your new husband sighs, returning his gaze to yours. His expression softens, he’s heard the fear in your voice and despite being little more than a stranger to you, he wants to help. Slowly, he reaches over to gently brush a talon along your cheek. His touch is kind and warm.

“Not to me. I think you’re lovely the way you are. But…it could prove to be a problem to the consummation of our marriage.”

“How?”

“In my culture, partners mate for life and consummating a marriage is taken very seriously.”

He raises his arms, gesturing as he explains.

“We do this by taking flight into the sky together, saying our vows to no one but each other, and then dropping back down to the earth. Sort of like a trust fall but with much more dire consequences should either party fail.”

You swallow down the nervous ball forming in your throat.

“But, I’m a human. I can’t fly.”

Your humanoid, feathery husband smiles tenderly.

“I would carry you, and I promise that I’d never let you fall. But you will have to stay calm during the ceremony. Any sign of doubt or fear is equated to doubt in your partner. Then the marriage will be null and void.”

You’re silent as you digest his words. To overcome your lifetime fear of heights just like that is a tall order, but you’ve come much too far to give up.

Now the real question is…can you trust him?

Politics? In my Devil May Cry?