writing in the sunlight

Fanfiction sideblog belonging to Bun. (she/her) Main blog: virberos Ao3

[virberos-writes]

monachopsis 11: rialtoscuro

So, you say that with this ritual, we can explore your memories of that day?” Cara asked, watching as Aurora and Omega rearrange the room and draw chalk on the wooden floor into strange circles and sigils that only they knew. “Exactly. Like you’re reading a book and seeing the scene in your mind.” Terzo said. “Immersive reading, or so Primo used to tell me.”

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

spring fever 2

While a hunt through the woods was good and all in scratching that itch, and figuring out exactly what was (or, rather, was not) wrong with him, Perpetua was still surprised that so much remained the same.

For @lycanthra's CreaturePerpetuaMonth2026 again, because this creature lives rent free in my head.

If you see a certain someone...I am not promising anything.

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

take me back (oh, take me back)

Cara’s missing. Perpetua and the ghouls are in a tizzy. And Copia’s got a headache to end all headaches. But, when he sets aside his headache and finds her, he finds a Sister that truly never got over her parents death. He helps. Because, beneath it all, there’s still a Cardinal that lends an ear to the people who need it.

Had a bad day at work, pumped this out while listening to Take Me Back to Eden on loop, bone apple tea. (Does this count as a vent fic? It might. )

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

blood moon

If it's blood that you want from me (you’re a slave) You can empty my arteries (your eternal fate) will you halt this eclipse in me (bloodlust) will you halt this eclipse in me (bloodlust)

(art by @luwha)

This comes from chapter 23 of 'and the morning thaws the ice', where Cara, the main OC, who's been tormented by her abuser (who's POV we're in for this piece) for five years and some change. I was going for a snap that is Not Good for anyone involved. It's ambiguous if Cara's being possessed or not (in a universe where demons exist and Satan is a known but mostly a 'haunting the narrative' presence) but, regardless if she has full control of her actions or not, this isn't catharsis. This is being pushed to the limit and finally, finally, being made to bite back. All in all, nobody is having a good time here.

The primary inspiration, aside from the infamous scene that got on the poster of Perfect Blue, is the Goobsie Mashup of Look to Windward/Bloodlust/Infinite Baths. It inspired the intense red that dominates the background (which also reflects the chapter's title of blood moon).

[virberos-writes]

spring fever

Life is good for Perpetua. For the past three years, the rescued bat hybrid has lived with the woman who rescued him turned permanent roommate, Dr. Cara Morningbrooke. He’s happy, happier than he’s ever been in the life he can remember. And then he gets spring fever. It’s only embarrassing the first time, especially when you have a very smart roommate willing to help.

For @lycanthra's CreaturePerpetuaMonth2026, where this thought lived in my head rent free ever since it got announced. It also possessed me to hyperfocus on this until it was done. Heed the tags!

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

monachopsis 10: yeorie

Sparrownest Keep is abuzz in gossip. And Cara, for the first time in two decades, does not hear it. Arcelia could say whatever she wanted, with her gaggle of noblewomen around her. Alexander, in the shadows, could glare as harshly as he wanted at her retreating form. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, not while she had Perpetua by her side.

Read here!

[lycanthra]

a flexible, low-pressure event for all your feral (and filthy) ideas about creature!Perpetua. werewolf? vampire? demon? something more monstrous? go crazy with it! all varieties of creature are welcome, as are all levels of heat and kink. please tag responsibly and include content warnings when necessary!

how it works:

⛧ post any time during the month of June (late posts welcome in case life gets busy!) ⛧ fics, drabbles, headcanons, art, moodboards, etc--as long as it includes creature!Perpetua ⛧ no prompts ⛧ no posting schedule ⛧ no limits!!

just make sure you use the tag #CreaturePerpetuaMonth2026 so everyone can find your work!

and again, i am so humbly asking for tags and warnings as needed. i want everyone to feel comfortable enough to let their freak flags fly, but we gotta make sure we don't scare anyone off.

MAKE SURE YOU USE THE READ-MORE LINK WHEN POSTING FIC DIRECTLY TO TUMBLR! 😅

any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask or a DM~

let's goooo

[virberos-writes]

WIP Wednesday!

This comes from a WIP that will feature Secundo...eventually. Thank you Per Aspera ad Inferni and Secular Haze. It's current title is ophiuchus and it's my first attempt at erotic horror. As someone who is a weenie about horror, I don't know if my attempt will be successful...but I can give you this, because we have to set our scene before the horror (or my attempt at it) unfolds... :)

Maria turned, to leave the room, and caught herself in a mirror hanging over a set of drawers. Dressed in a ruffled blouse and a pencil skirt, makeup still carefully applied despite the many hours and the long flight from New York to Turin, her curled dark brown hair carefully put up with errant curls framing deep blue eyes, all of it…for what, now? Back in New York, she had been called curvy, the eyes of the suits lingering longer than what was surely appropriate. Her weight, all of it carefully dressed and decorated so she could present herself as close to perfection as was physically possible, all of it a shield. A part of her preferred the too-long stares, just so her weight and short stature couldn’t be used as weapons to torment her. But now, far and away from cold bitter New York, could she bring herself to relax?

Perhaps.

Maria made her way out of the study- yes, that was right, it was a study -and towards the staircase up to second floor. There was a small landing with two doors, one of them wood and the other glass that led out to what looked to be a balcony, and a small decorative alcove between them. The alcove held a strange statue of what looked to be an emerald snake, coiled around an upside-down cross. The emerald snake’s eyes were mismatched, one bright green, the other white. The upside-down cross looked to be made of wrought iron, as if it was pulled from a long-lost church. How strange, perhaps the previous occupant was a religious man? Maria didn’t know but…it looked…nice. Almost pretty, especially the snake of emerald green stone. She looked to the shelf of the alcove, full of unlit black candles begging to be lit.

She made a mental note to light the candles later. For now, to the rest of the villa.

[virberos-writes]

I may or may not have been inspired to write some Mary Goore/OC because that's how I roll...here's a slice of what I'm working on...will there be smut in the future? Maybe. We'll see how this all shakes out because it's nothing if not indulgent as fuck.

pspspsps @lycanthra

Repugnant, bloody and emblazoned on the kick drum. She can’t make out what’s being said beyond screaming and what she swears is something about corpses? There’s probably something about corpses, the lead’s face is covered in pale corpse-paint and something appearing to be blood dribbling from his forehead down his face, fresh from a tussle he looks like he could’ve won. Black hair styled rough and limp but it looks to be something like a mohawk? The lights make it hard to tell for certain but, whatever it was, whatever he called it, he looked pretty good in it.

And Calanthe promptly takes a deep swig of her alcohol, smokey warmth sliding down her throat. She’s nearly thirty and he looks…well, he looks young, but that doesn’t mean shit when people take one look at her and think she’s twenty-four. It’s less ‘i’m too old for him’ and more 'trying to drown the idea that i have a chance’ because, as much as she likes the music, she knows she looks like a washed-up theater kid at best (not that it was entirely wrong) and a normie at worst. She aims for comfort more than style, with the dawn-hued pink of her orchid tattoo, her namesake, on her sternum peering out from the hem of her black tank-top, shorts, ankle shoes (because there is no way she’s going into the pit, she knows fucking better), and her shoulder-length dark-blonde hair tied up into a ponytail with a black bow in place that shows off her undercut. She’s not rail-thin like some people she can think of at work and she likes how she looks well enough. Any comments about her tummy are promptly met with ‘I can’t shave this off, that’s my innards and I need that’. She’s healthy, thank god, and that’s what matters in her opinion.

The band finishes their set, followed by a roar of cheering and applause. Calanthe whoops from her spot at the bar, joining the chorus of approval as the band slides into the shadows off a stage that looks rough now that there isn’t a band on it. Music from some playlist fills the space, at least in the same genre, and Calanthe leans back to look at Autumn, letting the movement tilt her black glasses back up, mixing cocktails like a pro with her braided neon hair bouncing with her movement. Their eyes meet and Autumn cocks a wide smile-

“Good shit.” She says with a smile and a shrug. “That’s why I like coming here.”

“And not for me?” Autumn teases. Calanthe laughs and nods.

“What can I say, better here than a country bar. Ugh.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad-” Autumn steps away to make a cocktail for someone else before returning to her, the perfect time for Calanthe to finish her story.

“It is that bad when the office girls try to pair you up with ‘a good country boy’.” She made a disgusted gagging noise. “Fucking kill me. And they know better, they look at my cubicle when they wanna gossip around the water cooler!”

“Fuck, that sucks.” Autumn gives her a look of sympathy. “Did they actually try to meet-cute someone?”

“Key word being try. I just left the moment they got distracted by the mechanical bull.” Calanthe frowned. Before Autumn could ask, Calanthe was suddenly aware that there were eyes on her. She sat up straighter, looking around-

And right into the eyes of the man who was on stage not what, five minutes ago? And she’s suddenly aware of how green his eyes are, now that there’s not an entire pit and flashing lights between her and him, and how warm he was from the brief almost accidental contact of his hand against her elbow. It’s followed immediately by how his lips turn into a cocky self-assured smile, sliding onto the bar stool with what she can assume is the rest of his band following suit. They slide onto the stools behind him and she’s at least thankful that they don’t want to crowd her, that they’re aware enough that it looks bad to crowd around a random woman in public.

“Hello?” Calanthe tilts her head, trying to figure out his angle. Was he just sitting next to her because it was an open for him and his band? She can’t imagine she’s half as interesting as anyone else here.

“You enjoy the show?” He asked. “Could see you staring at me from here.” He noticed? She’s gonna blame the alcohol she’s sipping, trying not to chug, for the flush that’s most certainly on her face.

[virberos-writes]

So for anyone curious how progress is going on this

I never do this with oneshots but there's too many ways I could turn this that I can't decide which one I like the most. I'm suffering here.

[virberos-writes]

monachopsis 9: certititde

Dreams ending in apocalyptic hellfire aside, the day was perfect for the announcement of an engagement.

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

I may or may not have been inspired to write some Mary Goore/OC because that's how I roll...here's a slice of what I'm working on...will there be smut in the future? Maybe. We'll see how this all shakes out because it's nothing if not indulgent as fuck.

pspspsps @lycanthra

Repugnant, bloody and emblazoned on the kick drum. She can’t make out what’s being said beyond screaming and what she swears is something about corpses? There’s probably something about corpses, the lead’s face is covered in pale corpse-paint and something appearing to be blood dribbling from his forehead down his face, fresh from a tussle he looks like he could’ve won. Black hair styled rough and limp but it looks to be something like a mohawk? The lights make it hard to tell for certain but, whatever it was, whatever he called it, he looked pretty good in it.

And Calanthe promptly takes a deep swig of her alcohol, smokey warmth sliding down her throat. She’s nearly thirty and he looks…well, he looks young, but that doesn’t mean shit when people take one look at her and think she’s twenty-four. It’s less ‘i’m too old for him’ and more 'trying to drown the idea that i have a chance’ because, as much as she likes the music, she knows she looks like a washed-up theater kid at best (not that it was entirely wrong) and a normie at worst. She aims for comfort more than style, with the dawn-hued pink of her orchid tattoo, her namesake, on her sternum peering out from the hem of her black tank-top, shorts, ankle shoes (because there is no way she’s going into the pit, she knows fucking better), and her shoulder-length dark-blonde hair tied up into a ponytail with a black bow in place that shows off her undercut. She’s not rail-thin like some people she can think of at work and she likes how she looks well enough. Any comments about her tummy are promptly met with ‘I can’t shave this off, that’s my innards and I need that’. She’s healthy, thank god, and that’s what matters in her opinion.

The band finishes their set, followed by a roar of cheering and applause. Calanthe whoops from her spot at the bar, joining the chorus of approval as the band slides into the shadows off a stage that looks rough now that there isn’t a band on it. Music from some playlist fills the space, at least in the same genre, and Calanthe leans back to look at Autumn, letting the movement tilt her black glasses back up, mixing cocktails like a pro with her braided neon hair bouncing with her movement. Their eyes meet and Autumn cocks a wide smile-

“Good shit.” She says with a smile and a shrug. “That’s why I like coming here.”

“And not for me?” Autumn teases. Calanthe laughs and nods.

“What can I say, better here than a country bar. Ugh.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad-” Autumn steps away to make a cocktail for someone else before returning to her, the perfect time for Calanthe to finish her story.

“It is that bad when the office girls try to pair you up with ‘a good country boy’.” She made a disgusted gagging noise. “Fucking kill me. And they know better, they look at my cubicle when they wanna gossip around the water cooler!”

“Fuck, that sucks.” Autumn gives her a look of sympathy. “Did they actually try to meet-cute someone?”

“Key word being try. I just left the moment they got distracted by the mechanical bull.” Calanthe frowned. Before Autumn could ask, Calanthe was suddenly aware that there were eyes on her. She sat up straighter, looking around-

And right into the eyes of the man who was on stage not what, five minutes ago? And she’s suddenly aware of how green his eyes are, now that there’s not an entire pit and flashing lights between her and him, and how warm he was from the brief almost accidental contact of his hand against her elbow. It’s followed immediately by how his lips turn into a cocky self-assured smile, sliding onto the bar stool with what she can assume is the rest of his band following suit. They slide onto the stools behind him and she’s at least thankful that they don’t want to crowd her, that they’re aware enough that it looks bad to crowd around a random woman in public.

“Hello?” Calanthe tilts her head, trying to figure out his angle. Was he just sitting next to her because it was an open for him and his band? She can’t imagine she’s half as interesting as anyone else here.

“You enjoy the show?” He asked. “Could see you staring at me from here.” He noticed? She’s gonna blame the alcohol she’s sipping, trying not to chug, for the flush that’s most certainly on her face.

[virberos-writes]

bark, papa, bark 2

To: Sugarpie Long day again. Collar please? From: Sugarpie Alright. I’ll be up in 15. Fifteen minutes is all he needs.

Remember those old Sinday Sundays from the ye olde tumblr days? Well, we're back with a surprise sequel.

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

monachopsis 8: hesperveil

Two weeks passed by too fast. And Cara? Cara wished for death in the form of the man on the tarocco card bearing the visage of a boy she knew too long ago, a boy that was most certainly a man grown, a man that she found herself praying that he was coming for her.

Read here!

[virberos-writes]

bark, papa, bark

It’s a cloudy day. A perfectly lazy day. Normally it’s Perpetua who awakens things in his beloved Cara. From a mostly innocent question, it’s his turn to find something awakening in him.

For @lycanthra, because of one tumblr ask. :)

Read here!

[lucifixion-pose]

Friends, mutuals, gentlethems, if ✨Masterzobation✨ taught us anything, it's that glazing yourself can be very fun, and so in honor of that beautiful old man practicing self-love I propose a challenge:

𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽, 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝔃𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝔂𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯

Tag an artist fwend and call upon them to show off, oh, let's say five things they made that they're so proud of. Anything from "I'm in love with this entire 200k fic I wrote" to "I think this line is hilarious" to "I drew the world's most perfect curvature on this one tiny curl."

Writing, drawing, sewing, sculpting, basket-weaving, whatever. No pressure, just mirin' yourself a bit.

Let's get this ball rolling. Get tagged, idiots (my beloveds): @a-perpetual-rise @haunted-with-ink @haunted-ammonite @gh0ul-dinner @thunderstorms-and-grape-sodas @thegholdenghoulz @ghuleshbabe @bendersghost @hrafnaun @d3dw1tch @sovaghoul @dem0nteef @cenotaphghuleh @cruise-in-your-glow-bus @mistmessenger @analogghoul @zombiequeens @lilspacewolfie @anamelessfool

[cenotaphghuleh]

First of all, thank you for the tag @lucifixion-pose! 💜

Second of all, how very dare you make me perceive my own skill, rude (😘)

First of all, I've gotta go with this one, because I worked really hard on the scene-setting for this and I think it shows quite well 🙂‍↕️

I think this one was my first attempt at a V (sort of) solo fic which, in my humble opinion, is pretty good!

This one, because it's the one that first brought Frater V to life, and he hasn't left me alone since 🥹

This Copia loveliness that I wrote for the wonderful @thegholdenghoulz 💜💜 because who doesn't love some fireside Papa fuckin'?

This one which I think is my favourite Frater V fic I've written so far 😈

(Also cheating a little by adding an extra drabble but shhhh)

This little bit of sinful twinwich action (kinda but not really, it will be elaborated on eventually, I promise 🙏🏻).

I had so much fun with this. ❤️‍🔥

No-pressure tags: @bookish-lavender, @virberos-writes, @goorebones, @sludge-saturday, @coco-monster, @writingjourney, @scramghouledegg, and whoever reads this, consider yourself tagged too! ♡

[virberos-writes]

I've been perceived- I mean tagged by @cenotaphghuleh so let's go.

First off, a no pressure tag to @furyeclipse and @polarisbibliotheque because I Will point it at my friends. >3

omens in your tides - Sleep Token, Vessel & OC - I have a special fondness for this fic and for Sleep Token in general, as this helped me respark my creative drive for fanfic writing. Ophelia, my beloved gremlin...

and the morning thaws the ice, ch4 - Ghost, Papa V Perpetua/OC - It's really just for the fact that this chapter changes Cara's life entirely. It's Perpetua, reaching out with kindness and care, that makes Cara realize that she can have a future if she chooses it. That she's valuable beyond how well she can beat someone to submission. It's always something I love to write: kindness overcoming pain, optimism over nihilism. And the art I have from Polaris is so cute!

and the morning thaws the ice, ch29 - Ghost, Papa V/Perpetua/OC - Perpetua's declaration of love for Cara. What more can I say?

a promise waiting to be fulfilled and a promise in silk - Sleep Token, III/Vessel - In my server, we had Halloween prompts to fill. The first one was my favorite out of the prompts I filled and the one of two who have a sequel. Demon deals? Check. Fulfilling on the deals in ways that aren't expected? Check! Demon on demon action? ;)

And the fifth is actually a slice from a Vampire!Perpetua/OC fic that I've debated finishing and not finishing. Whether it'll come out from The Vault, I don't know (I feel like it's too close to lycanthra's very good Bloodtide series) but Perpetua being a dramatic diva? I will gladly share. Read below!

Cara began to pray, not to God, to the Devil below, or even to Papa, but to whoever would listen to her in these last moments to keep Clara and Claudio safe.

The whip does not crack the air.

In an instant, a chill deeper than the spring air fills the room, a chill that reminds her of cold earth and empty graves. The hands holding her body let her go in a panic, as if she was cursed. Footsteps and exclamations of fear fill the air although the doors do not open. Something falls to the floor behind her. Immediately, Cara pulls her arms close, just for a little decency, and she turns behind her, wondering what had them so startled.

Between her and Elder Marizo, the elder’s mouth agap in shock, is a man. A man that seemed to have materialized from the very air between them. A man wearing a traveling cloak that is as dark as the night sky above, woven from the infinite above their heads. Black curls coil beneath the straps of what looked to be some sort of mask, peering out from under some sort of top hat. The man turns to her, just a little, an eye of bone white behind a familiar half-skull mask of shining silver meeting her own and-

The air…shifts. Something imperceptible and yet she couldn’t ignore it. She knows him. She’s seen him before. Instinct once screamed at her that entering the church was a trap she had sprung. Now, it was screaming something else entirely: Trust him. Trust this stranger that wasn’t a stranger. He’s safety in a raging ocean. He’s a lifeline. He’s yours.

“Well well well.” The stranger, Papa Perpetua, turns his head back to the elders. Even his voice is a comfort, steady and warm and clearly quite amused in the way a cat torments a mouse before devouring the small creature. “I find no knock at my door but a commotion in the church. And what do I find?” He cocked his head, his voice practically betraying the grin he surely must be giving to the elders, a grin that is more menace than mirth.

“This girl, ah, your sacrifice, she is too…unyielding, too stubborn.” Elder Marzio begins.

“And so was the last one?” The question is a mockery of his words and Cara knows it. She still remembers the shrieking and wailing of the last sacrifice.

“Even more so!” Elder Giordano gasps, trying to cover his fellow elder’s tracks. “She never listens, lazy girl she is. She would be unsuitable for you, Papa, and w-we, ah, we-

“We only chose the sacrifices for the pact that we felt would best…please you, Papa, and-”

“What would best please me?” Perpetua asked, his tone clearly of incredulous surprise at Elder Marizo’s words, his attempt to back up his fellow elder. He slowly turned, Cara following his gaze, to the companion that Cara did not realize he brought with him. She looked feminine, familiar in body shape but completely alien to her with her black skeletal bodysuit and silver mask, head covered by a tattered wimple and some sort of wing-like garment hanging from her arms. Cara furrowed her brow, trying to figure out if she knew Perpetua’s companion. “All of these years, they’ve sent me their sweet, meek, little lambs…lambs that they felt would best please me.” His voice trailed off into a mocking coo. Cara immediately focused in on the faintest of shudders, as if Perpetua’s companion was trying to contain her emotions.

And then Perpetua began to laugh. Like the very words Elder Marizo spoke were a grand jest, his beautiful cruel laughter reverberating throughout the church. The men of the village only stared, unsure what to do but too terrified to try and leave. Elder Giordano and Elder Celino seemed to look nervously at each other, like they were witnessing a fell omen unfolding before their very eyes. Elder Giordano had an awkward little smile on his lips. Only Elder Marizo seemed to join in, at least a little, with a quiet chuckle and a shake of his shoulders, as if he was ready to join in full-bellied arrogant earnest-

“IDIOT! IMBECILE!” Perpetua's roar made Cara curl up on the wood floor and shield her head with her hands, like she was in the middle of a furious storm. The men of the village pressed their backs against the shuddering wooden walls. Something fell to the floor, followed by the sound of a collapsing body. Cara peered out from behind her knees, letting out a shaking breath-

Elder Marizo is dead. His head, expression locked in a face of shock, rests across from her. And only his head.

Cara immediately backed away from his severed head, letting out a yelp of surprise. She looked to Perpetua, staring at the two remaining elders.

“Tempest. If you will.” He undid his cloak. The companion, Tempest, rushed forward to catch it. “Bring her to my castle.”

[virberos-writes]

hello! 3, 4, and 25 for the fic writer asks!

(also, I just realized you have a fic sideblog?! how did i not know? lol)

This sideblog's been vibing around for a while. It used to have a different name but it got rebranded like a month ago to be more connected to my main and my Ao3 pseudo.

How you feel about your current WIP

Monachopsis, my beloved torment nexus...but why have OCs if you don't put them in the torment nexus occasionally? :)

For a WIP more light-hearted, I have a Cara/Perpetua WIP in the works that's a short but direct sequel to morning: dearly beloved, a wedding fic that'll lead into the tour arc noctis magia. It's fluffy, it's sweet, it's full of tears and joy, and there's even classic wedding white! Although I won't tell you where ;)

A story idea you haven’t written yet

I have an idea that surrounds the world of Cara/Perpetua, one focused on Copia and Siena and how they met/interact. Girldad!Copia my beloved and, if anything, I want more of it. Please Ghesties...girldad!Copia...I beg of you...

Besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

Do not ask about how many hours I've spent on FF14... >> But beside that, I also have a smaller hobby in DJing. It's one of those things I don't have the means to practice but I like doing when I get the chance (which I tend to get over the summer at work, because I work in casino entertainment).

[museaway]

✍️ more fic writer asks!

reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!

the last sentence you wrote

a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

how you feel about your current WIP

a story idea you haven’t written yet

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

your preferred writing fonts

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

a trope you’re really into right now

a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

where do you get your inspiration?

favorite weather for writing

favorite place to write

talk about your writing and editing process

if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

in what year did you publish your first fic?

when did you publish your most recent fic?

do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

pick three keywords that describe your writing

how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

are you able to write with other people around?

your favorite part of the writing process

your least favorite part of the writing process

how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

share a fic you’re especially proud of