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artsninspo · 28 days ago

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VERY MERRY MARTINI🍸 - RIO X READER

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

: ̗̀➛ rio's library - good girl nbc

𐙚 based on this request | ♡ a flash forward of this

summary: Returning home for Christmas dredges up old wounds and unexpected sparks. Between family chaos and a chance encounter with her first love, Rio, she’s swept into a whirlwind of bittersweet memories and heated confessions. Can they rewrite their story, or will their past keep them apart? A cocktail of love, nostalgia, and second chances awaits.

tropes: second chance romance, small town nostalgia, reformed bad boy & unresolved emotional conflict - angst, fluff and a sprinkle of steam

pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

word-count: ~ 2K

You pluck a peppermint from the dish at the bar, untwisting the wrapper and pluck the candy into your mouth as nostalgia hits you. Sucking on the candy you remember a time where your granny’s crystal dishes were full of them and Christmas meant family and holiday cheer instead of restaurants and swanky parties. Your parents divorce has shattered all the warm and fuzzy feelings and in spite of being back in town for the first time in almost a decade everything feels different - but not in a good way. Being a child of divorce to two prideful parents is a full time job.

“What can I get for you?” a young bartender smiles.

“A … merry martini” you respond with a smile checking the menu.

“Coming right up” he winks flirting for his tip. You shift in your seat looking at all the other rejects who like you have nowhere better to be. The drink is slid in front of you and you open your purse.

“You're too pretty to pay” he winks, making you smile.

“Merry christmas” you say, raising a glass to him and taking a sip to take the edge off. Your holidays are stacked with activities and outings. Both of your parents want to show off their girl - like you’re some prized fucking heifer. They’ve tried their best at normalcy so there's no room for honest discussion on how much the chaos hurts. Your father went from married man, to divorcee where you and boxing were the light of his life. But you had been replaced with a new wife and a son who could be his prodigy. Then there was your mother who’d left the marriage committed to becoming her own light. Now she shines so bright it's blinding. Her and her husband are so perfect it’s hard to share space with them. Not to mention the competition between both parents had you in a constant tug of war.

“Another one please” you smile shamelessly placing a twenty in the tip jar. The bartender nods without judgement making another one. This time you wince at the strength of the first sip. “Perfect” you wink and he smiles tending to the other patrons.

“Davis” a man introduces himself to your left. Your mind tells you he's a predator. When you’d been looking your best he had not approached but after two drinks in under five minutes he's grown a pair.

“Not interested” you respond dismissively.

“Why not, you dont think I'm handsome?” he asks but you'd bet your last dollar he was married. You glance at his left hand and bingo, there's a faint indentation. The vulture in front of you thinks he’s gonna get some easy ass.

“I could be piss drunk and never give you the time of day or night - get lost” you tell him not in the mood to be used and discarded or sold a dream.

“Is that so?” he asks a glutton for punishment.

“Mhm” you respond, draining cocktail number two and he smiles handsome enough under the right circumstances.

“Maybe I was just being kind to the trainwreck at the bar. Spreading holiday kindness to the less fortunate” he jabs.

“No wonder your wife doesnt fuck you, I wouldnt either. How does putting me down make you feel, mister kind man?” you ask patronizing him some more. His chest rises and his body goes rigid.

“Careful Davis, this one’s pretty but will lay your ass out” a voice says, giving you goosebumps. “Her pops owns the three boxing gyms in the city. That means after she’s done with you - if she tells pops at least one of the guys will catch you outside” he continues and Davis looks between you and the man with resentment before standing and finding somewhere else to be in the bar. You feel your heart race and try to get yourself together before you turn around.

There he is, in all his glory somehow more attractive now than he’d been all those years ago. Your eyes catch a tattoo on his neck and he slides you your third drink but that's way too dangerous now with him in your midst.

“You were never afraid” you mutter and he smiles.

“Ahh, I lack good sense remember. Your pops only had one gym at the time” he shrugs using the line you used in your break-up. He’d done you dirty, broke your heart and then thumbed your nose in it. He was a part of the reason you never came back home.

“Right” you nod and he looks at the drink with an amused expression. It hadn't been all bad. He could still vividly remember all the nights he spent looking up at his ceiling because the morning couldn't come soon enough. He couldn't wait to see you, feel you, kiss you, sneak you into his house while his granny was working. Nobody topped the feeling you gave him till this day. The two of you had been inseparable and he never cared what people said - he was in love with you and wearing it for everyone to see. It was why your rejection hurt so bad and Nick’s betrayal cut so deep. You never listened, never stopped to hear him out while hurling insults through tears. He couldn't get a word in and then you never spoke to him again - not even when he tried being civil at your graduation.

“How long are you back for?” Rio asks testing your energy towards him.

“None of your business” you respond, making him smile.

“So it’s like that?” he asks.

“It’s like that” you respond.

“So what? Are we gonna be beefing forever?” he asks.

“Why are you behind the bar? You aren’t nice enough to be a bartender.” you comment sipping slow.

“You know me well. I'm the owner,” he says.

“Makes sense,” you nod, looking him over again. The prime location and atmosphere, along with the internet reviews was a signifier of success. “Graduated from illegal to legal impairment” you swallow.

“Look, enjoy your drinks, if you need a cab have my boy call you one” he snaps in bad humour before walking away. He didnt take shit from anyone these days and that would never change. The edge is back on so you scroll looking for another bar and when you find one you head to the bathroom to sober up. Finished from relieving yourself you re-apply your lipstick and fix your hair in the mirror when Rio enters locking the door of the swanky bathroom behind him.

“What's all this?” you ask genuinely confused.

“In case I never see you again I didn’t sell drugs on the job that summer. I stopped like you asked and it fucked Nicks business up because I was the money maker. He asked me to come back and I said no because I was all in on us and the naive shit we had planned. Nick being the spiteful bitch he is, set me up, he knew you’d dump me and you did. You wouldn't hear me out and I couldn't say shit to the cops or my granny would have had two of us inside at once. Couldn't write it in the letters you didn't read either cause they read it and you wouldn't be near me.” Rio says and you look into his eyes. One thing remains true - you still can't tell when he’s lying. Your brain wants to say something smug and spiteful but your heart wants to accept it as truth and move on.

“I was alone and I needed someone to be angry at - it couldn't be my parents so I made it you. Don't sweat it” you shrug, opting for something in the middle.

“Your pops misses you like crazy” he surprises you.

“How do you know that?” you ask.

“We have dinner together once a month, he signed on as my mentor as a part of my probation. Even gave me a loan for this place” Rio says, telling you things you’ve never known.

“He always liked you,” you nod.

“Yeah we’ll I only really meet with him to hear updates about you, every fucking time I hold my breath hoping that I dont hear youre married or engaged because in my head youre still mine” Rio declares speaking directly to your heart. It was the Rio you knew and not the one that got in a relationship with one of your classmates when he was free from his stint in juvie. Although you knew it was just to hurt you, it still did.

“I’m gonna go” you whisper walking forward but he doesn't move around the barred door. He’d been your safe place through the most turbulent times and you’d not returned the favor. Tears well and you wipe them away feeling the effects of the alcohol. Rio catches your arm as you reach for the lock, his eyes lowering as he looks down at you. A thumb swipes away the tears.

“I’m sorry” he whispers, maintaining eye contact. You're seventeen again and find your face scrunching up embarrassingly. Rio continues wiping the tears away feeling emotional himself as he takes you into his arms cradling you into a hug. There was so much that was different, your perfume, your shampoo, how your body felt in his arms, the heels instead of sneakers. The bathroom bar instead of sneaking into the one at your fathers gym. His love for you was unrivalled. The tears slow to a halt after a few minutes and Rio’s hands slide lower down into your lower back. When you look back at him his eyes are encouraging. It's a relief that he finds no satisfaction in your moment of weakness.

“Fix your make up, stay pretty” he says kissing your temple in a gesture so casual it could only be out of love. You don't question him getting your items from your purse again and doing a quick touch up. When you're finished Rio examines the armour you’ve crafted to protect yourself from your own vulnerabilities and gives a nod of approval. Your heart swells with love for him. He takes your chin leaning in for a kiss. It had been too long since your lips had known his. Too long since his tongue claimed yours while being body to body. Since his hands grabbed handfuls of ass and trailed up against the skin of your torso.

Loud knocks on the door ends the steamy moment.

“I need to PISS” someone slurs on the other side of the door. You smile, stepping back and ridding the smudged lipstick from Rio’s lips. He does the same for you, unlocking the door and moving aside. The drunk patron rushes into a stall paying neither of you any mind.

“Let me take you home,” Rio offers.

“I don't want to go home” you respond.

“You’re going home, I’m not touching you again until you're sober. I need you to feel and remember my shit, you don't get to pretend to forget after I’ve been waiting this long” he says holding your hand. You can't help but smile at his mean ass. He drags you to his office where he gets his keys and to the black truck waiting in the barking lot. He gets your door like old times adjusting the seat to your comfort. His heart races the entire trip to your hotel and he stays in the car knowing he doesn't have the will power to refuse you twice. He watches you turn around and he rolls down his windows so you can see him instead of the tints. Smiling makes you feel optimistic for the first time this entire trip. Hand to lips you blow him a kiss. He smiles, unable to maintain his hard exterior.

“Fuck me” he laughs knowing hes down bad for you.

Heading to the hotel you hum along to the Christmas music playing in the lobby, sucking on another peppermint you smile at the nostalgia of your and Rio’s good times. Excited to be back home and for the promise of a very merry Christmas.

authors note: thank you for reading, i'm working my way through the holiday requests so yes this will be a one of one, since I'm pretty sure we all knows what happens next. it rhymes with next without the t 😉

Writing for this amazing community is such a joy, and your support helps me keep creating.

If you enjoyed this fic: ❣ Like the post to brighten my day! ❝ Comment—whether it’s a detailed review or a single emoji, I’d love to hear your thoughts. ↺ Reblog to share the story and connect it to others who might love it too.

Vote below and let us know which trope has your heart! ❤️

tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

#holidaze!artsninspo #rio good girls #rio x reader #good girls rio #rio x you #rio good girls imagine #manny montana x reader #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #masterlist #christmas story #christmas imagine #holiday imagine #second chance at love #second chance romance #forced proximity #reformed bad boy

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razzberrydazz · 3 months ago

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🍉Razz's Fundraiser List V7 🇵🇸

Previous iteration of my fundraiser masterlist found here.

Reminder that I am doing art for charity - if you share proof with me that you have donated to any of the fundraisers I have shared either in this post or in my other posts tagged #razz's fundraiser list, I will draw something for you!🍉Please help these families!

I also have personally organized a fundraiser for a family, upon request and discussion with Hana Jad Al-Haq (vetted here, linked here, £28,784/£50,000 goal) and her brother-in-law Sami Hamad (whom the fundraiser is for).

>>>Help the Hamad family get to safety<<<

A family of 3 - a husband, wife, and their infant son - need funds to evacuate to safety. This fund is vetted by association.

I have some of the fundraisers shared on my kofi.

More fundraisers and fund updates below the cut

Updates to some previously shared fundraisers

Update to Safaa's (vetted here) fundraiser found here, was at $7,325/$75,000 as of Aug 13, 2024. It is now at $22,270/$75,000 goal as of Oct 16, 2024. Safaa has her husband, months old child, and sickly parents who all need help to evacuate.

Update for Hanaa/Hana (fundraiser linked here and vetted here) - Hanaa asked me to share the story of her sister-in-law Israa. Israa (@naseer220, @naseranam225) is vetted by association with Hanaa. Link to Israa's fundraiser here. £9,662/£20,000 goal. Israa has two young children and a sick father, and her husband has been missing for over 8 months after being kidnapped by the occupation. Israa's father and children need urgent medical care.

@ghazialamoudi fundraiser here. Ghazi Al Amoudi has reached out to me before to share this gfm, so this serves as an update. Is vetted. €827/€10,000 goal, low on funds!

@abedallhferwanagaza's fundraiser here. (Wife's tumblr is @olaferwana @olaferwana1) Vetted by @/butterflyproject. €10,568/€35,000 goal. Family of five, three are children, husband is separated from family in Egypt and all want to be reunited.

@dodooomar Doaa's fundraiser here. Vetted here. kr264,334SEK/kr500,000 goal. Note, currency is in Swedish Krona, 10$ = 105 SEK. She and her autistic son are in Egypt, but her family is trapped in Gaza. She also has a fundraiser here to help get supplies to restart her embroidery business, and fundraisers here here here here and here to help other members of her family. This post details these campaigns and how this family is separated and wishes to be reunited - Safaa, Hanaa, @aseelo680, @falestine-yousef, and others are all part of Doaa's family and have their own fundraisers (some I have shared before). All are vetted by association. Help the Jad Al Haq family.

@yasermohammad's fundraiser here. He has reached out before to share this gfm, so this serves as an update. Donation protected, is vetted. €26,267/€35,000 goal.

@sabahfamily's fundraiser here. Sabah has reached out to me before, so this serves as an update. Donation protected, appears legit. £8,694/£50,000 goal. Family of 27, many are children.

@abedhilles's fundraiser here. Abdul has reached out to me before, so this serves as an update. Vetted by association, Abdul's wife was a journalist Watan News Agency and was tragically martyred. Also has been vetted by 90-ghost. Abdul has a child named Karam, and urgently needs medical care from injuries sustained from a missile strike. $3,796/$35,000 goal.

@aseel140's fundraiser here. $415/$200,000 goal, low on funds! This fund benefits Aseel’s family’s daily needs like rent, food, and several necessary operations on injuries the family have sustained during the occupation’s attacks. She was separated from her husband, who is trapped in Gaza, while Aseel her parents and older siblings have made it to Cairo.

@aymanbasil2's fundraiser here. Vetted. Ayman is helping his brother rebuild his life after their livelihood was destroyed. €3,597/€15,000 goal.

@amanyay556's fundraiser here. €681/€50,000 goal, low on funds! A family with two kids who want to get to safety!

@ameinababas-blog's fundraiser here. $28,203/$100,000 goal. Amina has 4 children who all have suffered from the horrors of this war. They all want to get their needs met and get to safety.

@ali-manar-family's fundraiser here. (Previous account was @aliandmanarpal) Vetted by multiple sources. kr3,401 SEK raised of kr550,000 goal, low on funds! Note - currency is Swedish Krona, $10 USD = 105 SEK. I have shared this fundraiser before.

@ayahoftheday shared this fundraiser here. €2,955/€30,000 goal.

@mohammedayyads-blog shared this fundraiser here. €4,449/€35,000 goal.

@rewaaamir-family's fundraiser here. Vetted. Rewaa Amir, a mother of five, $149CAD/$55,000 goal, low on funds!

@nisreensuhail's fundraiser here. Vetted. Mother of three who lost her husband. €13,544/€50,000 goal.

@ranensworld's fundraiser here. Mother of three, her children are sick and need urgent medical care. €9,574/€80,000 goal.

@motazmohammed's fundraiser here. Vetted. €3,711/€50,000 goal.

@alihamdi1973's fundraiser here. €2,515/€25,000 goal.

@mohammednasser's fundraiser here. €6,455/€38,000 goal.

@emanalmadhoun7's fundraiser here. $770/$25,000 goal.

#razz's fundraiser list #masterlist #fundraisers #fundraising #gofundme #help gaza #i stand with palestine #these masterlists are tedious to put together please share this #boost #signal boost #update #none of these people are scams bro #if it's a gofundme fundraiser there's a 99% chance they're legit #hashtag don't assume every person asking for help is a scam

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polarisbibliotheque · 8 months ago

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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

youtube

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.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may music #song fic requests #cirice #cirice ghost #there aaaaare a few references to other things sprinkled here and there #the nostalgia and haziness from secular haze and ghuleh/zombie queen #but the whole Eva thing was the zombie queen nostalgia #never let go? that's from Titanic #the two thundering noises being the thundering drums from the song #the holding hands from the video from the scene that killed me in Matrix and my drawing when I was 15 y/o #seriously it's a recurring imagery in my life and I'm always ??? so it's in here too #I won't suffer alone #for some reason I sometimes sing 'I can see through the stars inside you'#and that's where the reader's 'I can see beyond your glimmer and I don't fear the dark' comes from #and that silly little ending at the shop was just a thing to tie it all together #OH! THE HELL PIRANHAS! Totally inspired by those shadow piranhas from the library planet episode in Doctor Who #the whole concept of those things just creeps me out #if some lost soul from the Ghost fandom fell here by chance or mistake do apologize #I need to tag things properly in this blog to update my masterlist forgotten in the abyss so finding it by cirice will be easier #Youtube

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vampykween · 1 year ago

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simon 'ghost' riley

✴︎ road trip with ghost ✴︎ see you through my eyes ✴︎ like that ✴︎ when your mind's made up ✴︎ morning surprise ✴︎ recital surprise ✴︎ morning sex ✴︎ coming home ✴︎ caught me ✴︎ you don't own me ✴︎ to love is to live ✴︎ betting on losing dogs ✴︎ heavy in your arms ✴︎ last goodbye ✴︎ the jaws of life ✴︎ dial tone ✴︎ let me care for you ✴︎ punisher ✴︎ paralyzer ✴︎ ghostwriter ✴︎ first time ✴︎ eternally yours ✴︎ mirrorball ✴︎ real love ✴︎ waiting game ✴︎ bookstore meet cute ✴︎ i can do better ✴︎ promise ✴︎ period sex ✴︎ christmas love ✴︎ picture perfect ✴︎ gone

✴︎ wash me clean

✴︎ strangers

✴︎ second chances (series) simon ghost riley x f!reader summary: little poppy is simon riley’s entire world and you’ve just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you’re with each other.

✴︎ toxichusband!ghost au simon ghost riley x f!reader summary: life sinks its teeth into you and simon's once-loving relationship chews it up and spits it out.

john price

✴︎ praise

keegan p. russ

✴︎ oral fixation

valeria garza

✴︎ toda

multi

✴︎ vampire!au john price x f!reader x simon ghost riley summary: you've been captured by two alluring and devilish vampires and become their little pet. while you were reluctant at first, you can't help but love them both.

#mic writes #masterlist #vampykween #simon ghost riley x reader #keegan russ x reader #captain john price x reader #valeria garza x reader #second chances au #toxichusband!ghost #toxichusband!simon #vampire!au #vampire!ghost x reader #vampire!price x reader #vampire!price #vampire!ghost #banners from ⇢ @cafekitsune

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hrts4hanniehae · 1 year ago

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Take a Chance with Me || fifteen (finale)

ib Daytime Star

~2 years later~

of course she was upset that cheol's schedule had been so hectic lately, but she too had been drowning in work. sure it was their careers... but their schedules had ruined not only their first relationship anniversary but also their get-back-together anniversary! they were not even in the same country for BOTH of those dates. it was a bit painful but she had to deal with it.

the greetings for the fan meet went really well with her performance being almost perfect (except for her small wardrobe malfunction when her ripped jeans ripped even more than they should) but fans all got even more excited when they saw her in a much more flattering dress.

some of her celebrity friends came to visit her and of course, pretended to be die-hard fans. even the twitter fans @ yn_hrts and others were also present. this was the happiness of being an idol that she remembered.

it was coming to the end of the fan meet. the stack of gifts she had received were all behind her and she was focused on drawing something on a fan's notebook.

when that fan had moved on, she greeted the next person without looking up. "hi! thank you for waiting and thanks for coming! shall i sign something?"

"yea. could you sign this?" the paper before her was filled with text in black and white. without reading the contents she looked up at the person in front of her.

"CHEOL??"

"hello my love."

"what the hell r u doing here?"

"yn, my dear, please read the paper."

she finally looked down.

"oh my god."

it was a marriage certificate.

the whole room was screaming and she looked to her right.

choi seungcheol, the alpha of kpop and the leader of seventeen, her boyfriend, was on one knee holding a small box with the most beautifully intricate ring she'd ever seen.

"oh my god."

"The first day we met, you tripped and fell into me. But it ended up being me who fell for you first. Your laughter, your kindness, and the way you make every day brighter – it all captured my heart. We've been through so much together, shared our dreams, and faced challenges hand in hand. And through it all, my love for you has only deepened. We had our problems and we had our happiness. And now, I only want to bring you tears of joy and not sorrow. Not now, not ever. Those 3 years of distance from you were our darkest times. Now, I want to be happy together. Yn Ln, my love, my happiness, will you take a chance and marry me?"

she was crying. she couldn't believe it. he was proposing? here?

"yn?"

"yes. yes i'll marry you, my cheolie." and she signed the certificate.

"SHE SAID YES!" - hoshi

"oh my god hoshi not so loud!" - seungkwan

seungcheol had planned to be the last "fan" for the day, but in his haste, he had accidentally started queuing too early. so yn had to continue the fan meet for the rest of the fans with him sitting beside her.

"congrats on your engagement, yn-noona and seungcheol-oppa!!"

"thank you."

"oh my god i'm so nervous. bn do i look okay? oh my god." - yn

"yn you look great. don't worry so much" - bn

"yn your hair is out of place at the back." - jae

"thank you jae. see, bn, i don't look great." - jae

"oh my god don't do this right now." - bn

"jeonghan where are the rings oh my god." - seungcheol

"i've told you five times, they are with dino." - jeonghan

"do i look okay? oh my god, i see her dad." - seungcheol

"you've seen her dad so many times..." - wonwoo

"hyung, stop freaking out." - vernon

"i'm getting married, how can i not be nervous?" - seungcheol

"it'd better not be cold feet..." - hoshi

"it's not. i'm just scared that something will go wrong. I want to marry her so badly but what if something goes wrong?" - seungcheol

"we'll be there to sort it out, hyung." - dino

"you're getting married today in the best wedding possible. end of story. stop freaking out." - jeonghan

of course, the wedding went smoothly. cheol's vows made yn cry and yn's vows made seventeen cry. seungcheol was surprisingly very teary when yn put his ring on and he almost burst into tears after their first kiss as a married couple.

the dispatch photographer took so many photos that they had to dedicate almost 10 posts just to this wedding.

when it came to the bouquet toss... who knew that it'd be wonwoo to catch it, leaving mingyu a bright red mess. (luckily the dispatch photographer had left)

they were finally married.

"i'm glad you decided to take a chance with me, seungcheol. because this love we have, you can't find it with anyone else. thank you for loving me, choi seungcheol. today is the day i become choi yn. i've never been happier to be yours."

"thank you, yn, my love, for allowing me to take a chance with you. because you are the one thing i can't lose. i look into your eyes and i see forever. i'm forever yours. i'd be ln seungcheol if you insisted, but seeing how you're so happy to be my mrs choi, i'm so happy i get to call you mine."

-fin-

a/n thank you to those who always commented/reblogged my posts. yall have a special place in my heart!! we are finally at the official end of "Take a Chance with Me" and i hope y'all enjoyed it! do stay tuned for my other smaus!!!!

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23 ended: 28.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

smau masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03

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someprettyname · 8 months ago

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Bro. If kaiser was real and he used those smol little German nicknames in between conversations, I'd malfunction FOR. REAL.

like it's so cute 😭🙏🏻

#michael kaiser #blue lock #bllk #ONE CHANCE EMPEROR. JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE. 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐#Ranting #michael x reader #michael kaiser x reader #fic : michael kaiser #Masterlist

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 11 months ago

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Home. - Fluffy Ending (not canon) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 2.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: none. Tags: you/your pronouns, reconnecting with family, wedding guests, second chance romance, time skip. a/n: not proofread. I didn't like the way I wrote this ending but I figured I should share it either way. It's too fluffy/forced for my taste. The actual alt ending will be better. ALSO: Was listening to Chemical by Post Malone on repeat while writing this. Idk if you wanna do that too while reading...

[MASTERLIST]

You're twenty-eight, he's twenty-nine.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t step a foot back in Manc, not even if cows flew!

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t keep in contact with anyone, not even if someone died!

(Which your father did. Thank fuck.)

You broke those promises so many times.

You were unable to keep away, though you tried…

It’s your own fault, really.

You stalk your old friends and family on Facebook sometimes.

Other times you check the local news.

Others you check the obituary and marriage sections on the news.

You beat yourself over it every time. Even though seeing the lack of changes through your cyberstalking and the news made you feel immense relief, you still ended up closing the pages on your browser with more aggression than you should and sulking in your bed.

And yet, you still go and do it again a few weeks later.

And then another few weeks later.

It’s pathetic, really, but maybe it provides you some comfort. Maybe helps you sleep at night.

You should’ve figured out that someone would have made you eventually.

I mean, naming your blank Facebook profile after the one mean neighbor you had, who called the police on you and your mates once for being too loud while hanging out in the street, and died years ago? Yeah, they’d make you eventually.

Luckily for you, it was Olly who did.

All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.

Maybe… Maybe you should follow his advice.

It’s been a decade.

Your mum deserves at least a letter to let her know you’re still alive, that you’re healthy, happy, and safe. She’s owed that much…

It was very strange to be inside your childhood home after almost eleven years.

Four days ago, your mum had openly sobbed as she threw her arms around you, and you had found yourself sobbed with her, both of you falling to your knees at the front door.

She held your face so gingerly and kissed your forehead so many times, her face severely more aged than the last time you had seen her.

The letter you had sent her 8 months before was 23 pages long, a bulk so large you sent them unfolded and stapled together inside a manila envelope rather than folded neatly into a standard one, and had detailed everything you figured she should learn about your life.

Where you went.

What you did.

Who you did it with.

How you felt.

What you learned.

How you changed.

You apologized for running away, for worrying her.

You assured her you loved her and missed her.

You asked, tentatively, if she could find a way to let you be a bit more present.

You reiterated you wanted to remain living where you were in Scotland… but that you could allow yourself to be her daughter again if she so wanted it.

You know she cried reading it. Hell, you cried writing it…

You didn’t expect anything, you didn’t want to cause her any more grief by coming barrelling back into her life. She’s your mother, you didn’t want to manipulate her. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t answer for a few weeks…

But then her letter came. A simple half-a-page response that said, in no uncertain terms, that she missed you, that you were always welcome in her home and her heart, and she wanted to have her little girl back.

It all culminated in today.

Adjusting your red gown with one hand, you walk up the aisle, the other holding your 10-month-old daughter who’s clad in a pale yellow tulle dress. She’s kept flush to your chest, her chubby legs wrapped around your hip.

You and your mum find a spot near the middle and sit down, though you scoot yourself as far on the pew as you can, making sure that you can step off to the side just in case Evelyn starts fussing. Though you doubt she will.

The ceremony is being held in the middle of the afternoon and she has been calm and sleepy this whole time, softly dozing off in your arms, her little face nuzzling to your neck, since it’s close to her nap time.

You sit Evie down on your lap and place a hand on the back of her head while you and your mum speak softly, still waiting for the wedding ceremony to start.

You still can’t believe that you’re here…

Wythenshawe still looks as crappy as ever, you still know the streets like the back of your hand, though a lot of it has changed, shops went out and into business, and people moved away.

You met up with your old mates at your local just a couple of nights ago, and after a lot of tears and some drinking, you gossiped all night about your lives and everyone else’s.

In a way, it feels like you never left…

You were so afraid that they would hold a grudge at you for leaving, for not staying in touch… But they never did. You were welcomed with open arms…

It’s… nice.

The ceremony doesn’t take long to start.

You nearly cry at the sight of Emily in her wedding dress, having deemed her a close friend for the better time of your formative years. And Olly, as emotionally detached as he tries to pretend himself to be, cries at the sight of his bride.

The ceremony is long and a bit tedious, as most weddings tend to be, but you’re still happy to be there… Happy to be back.

It’s nearly 45 minutes into the ceremony when Evie starts fussing a bit. You’re quick to take the nappy bag onto your shoulder and rush out of the church while shooting some apologetic looks to the guests around.

Once outside, you find shade under a tree and begin to bounce Evie a bit, knowing she isn’t fussing because of her diaper or hunger, but rather from the fact she’s teething.

One hand balances the infant, the other sets down the nappy bag on a low wall and you begin rummaging for the teething ring toy amidst the pockets. When you find it, you give it to her, which she gladly takes, though it doesn’t do much for her pain, only quieting her down a bit by allowing her to bite all over it.

“Shhh… it’s alright, pet…” You whisper to her as you kiss her smooth forehead and nuzzle your nose against the crown of her head.

You keep softly swaying and bouncing with her in your hip, moving about, side to side, while she drools all over the toy, her hands, and your dress as she softly headbutts your chest while chewing.

You’re lucky your dress is a dark enough shade of red and made from a fabric as forgiving as chiffon, so that the wetness will dry quickly and discreetly.

It’s in the midst of your pacing and bouncing the infant on your hip that you spot him.

His pale jawline peppered with a well-trimmed stubble, his blonde hair cut short and hidden under the beige beret, his strong build wrapped in full military dress…

You almost didn’t recognize him…

You leave your bag right where it is and beeline for him before you can stop yourself.

And he makes no motion to move from his resting spot, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and looking right at you like you’re sure he has been doing for the past 15 minutes or so (you wouldn’t put it past him).

“Fuckin’ hell…” You hear yourself saying as you come to stand in front of Simon.

He tosses his cigarette down on the floor and puts it out with his brown boot, blowing the smoke away from your daughter on your hip.

“That how you greet people now?” He retorts while looking down at you through his fluttering eyelashes.

His voice is so much deeper, rough and strong than it used to be… You don’t know how to respond at first, your mouth has gone dry and your brain has blue-screened.

You’ve had dreams about this before… Nightmares too.

You’ve imagined that one day you’d cross paths with him on the street and you’d stumble all over yourself. That he’d ask you how you’ve been or what you’ve done with your life and you’d have nothing to show for it…

You thought you’ve healed from your past, but here comes Simon Riley to indirectly tell you “HA! Think again, dumbass!”.

“You surprised me is all.” You end up saying, your voice carrying a maturity and a strength you didn’t know it could. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Got lucky this coincided with my leave.” He remarks. “Could say the same to you, though.” He adds.

You can’t tell if he meant to offend with that comment. Olly had told you through Facebook that he told Simon about you vanishing off the face of the Earth and that Simon didn’t take it well. You knew he, rightfully so, expected you to stay gone.

“Got back in touch with Olly and the rest of my family.” You remark simply and shrug.

He keeps looking at you with those brown eyes of his, with a certain coldness behind you that forcefully reminds you that this is not the same person you used to know. The boy he was and the man he is are forcefully different people.

“Cute kid.” He adds after a beat of silence as his eyes flit to your daughter who’s still very much in her own world with her teething toy.

“Thanks.” You reply.

This feels awkward. You’re finally standing face to face (more like face-to-chest, goddamn is the man tall) after a whole ten years. Are you even friends? No. But are you acquaintances? Also no. And you have too much of a history to be strangers.

So what are you?

“What’s her name?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“Evie.” You answer. “Evelyn.” You correct yourself before adding. “Evie for short.”

“Hm.” He remarks unemotionally. His eyes flit over you up and down, taking in… everything about you.

You are a confident person, you’d say. You feel good in your own skin. You like your reflection when you see yourself in the mirror. And you feel like a million bucks in this dress, which wraps around your body beautifully, the fabric making you look delicate and soft.

But under his scrutinizing gaze, you feel anything but confident.

So, you take a breath and return the same scrutinizing gaze, up and down, taking in every inch of him, your eyes just as strong and confident as his own. He notices, because of course he does, and he puffs out his chest and raises his chin, to allow you to keep looking at him, showing himself off a bit proudly.

He’s wearing a khaki formal uniform, or full dress as you remember it being called, and although it's been ten years, you still remember some things about all the stuff you investigated about the British Army, so you could keep up with him, impress him with your knowledge.

A brown waist belt with a sash across the right soldier means he’s an Officer… The buttons are gold and shaped like winged parachutes, and he wears a beret instead of a cap. A beige beret to be exact, which means he’s no longer in the Parachute Regiments, who wear maroon ones. There’s a cap badge on the beret and the Excalibur on it tells you one thing: he’s special forces. You don’t remember which one… but you know he’s something big, bad, and important.

“Special Forces.” You muse out loud, showing off what you noticed.

His eyebrows raise, impressed by you, and then he nods. “Somethin’ like that.” He adds.

“Done well for yourself, then.” You add and he nods again and blinks while smirking, as if trying to humbly pat himself on the back for it.

“She have a dad?” Simon asks while shooting Evelyn a look. The words escape his mouth quicker than he wanted and sound a lot more judgemental than he meant for them to.

The way your eyebrows raised at him, the same way they used to when he’d say something bloody stupid as a teen, told him you weren’t pleased and that he had put his foot in his mouth.

“Sorry.” He says though it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. “Came out wrong.” He tells you.

You might have gone ten years apart but you knew Simon like the back of your hand at one point… And you knew sometimes he’d say things aloud when he meant to keep them as thoughts. It’s clearly that’s a habit he still has.

“I know what you meant.” You reply bluntly as you fix your grip on the infant, swiveling her a bit to sit on your other side.

“What’s the answer then? She got a dad?” He probes as he dips his head a bit to the side, his arms hanging by his side as he looks you up and down.

“Aye.” You end up replying, the Scottish word slipping past your lips then you meant for it to. You still speak English with a Manc accent, just like him, but there are little quirks like this one that you’ve adopted after living in Dundee for ten years.

Simon’s eyebrows cock up as well at the sound of Scottish word, and you can tell he finds it odd, but he doesn’t comment. “Where’s he, then?” He retorts. “No ring on your finger.” He adds.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand which is wrapped around your daughter now, the splayed fingers showing a distinct lack of a wedding ring. He sounds just as judgemental. But you don’t let it ruffle your feathers.

“Separated.” You reply maturely. “No ring on yours.” You say and nod toward his own left hand which also lacks a ring.

“Married to the job.” He replies and you can’t help but let out a snort of a chuckle, which makes him chuckle dryly too.

“‘f course you are.” You add in reply.

“Could’ve been married to you.” He retorts with the same casualty of someone saying ‘Nice weather today’.

You scoff and shake your head. “Really?” You add.

“Ye.” He adds. “Had a ring and everythin’.” He quips. “Then Olly told me you ran off into the night.”

You scoff again, mostly out of disbelief, and look away from him, your eyes flittering over the courtyard in front of the church.

The ceremony should be finishing soon enough.

“Dodged a bullet then.” You remark dryly, smiling a bit in amusement.

“You or me?” He retorts and you find your eyes drifting upwards to him again.

For a moment you just both stare at each other in silence…

Your eyes are locked in the same way they used to whenever the two of you were about to throw themselves at one another as teens…

Then, he breaks into a grin, and so do you, the both of you looking away for a moment. His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You’re both amused at the cheekiness of your comment.

“How long are you stayin'?” He asks you once you both glance at each other again.

“Goin’ home on the 26th.” You tell him. “How long’ve you got leave for?”

“‘Till the 27th.” He replies and dips his head to the side a bit.

This is definitely crazy.

You secretly wonder if you’ve gone mad.

A decade has gone by… But there’s no mistaking the electricity in the air.

That light buzzing of goosebumps that prickle at your skin, making the hair in the back of your neck stand… Like lightning is about to strike…

“Take me out to dinner.” You demand abruptly and narrow your eyes at him.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek again in amusement. “Are you askin’ me on a date?” He retorts.

“No. I’m tellin’ you.” You add, watching how his brown eyes swiftly light ablaze with a certain fire you never expected to see after so many years apart.

“Tomorrow?” He suggests.

“Tomorrow.” You add.

“I’ll pick you up at 9.” He adds.

You know damn well that 9 P.M. is too damn late for dinner… But you also know that in reality, your ‘dinner’ will be grabbing Nando’s and cheap beer, and eating in the backseat of his car in that one side road you always used to go to… talking into the night… and probably definitely fucking each other’s brains out.

“Like the good ol’ days.” You remark.

“Mhm.” He adds.

Then, the church doors open and the guests come pouring out, forcing the two of you to separate.

But you can still see the smirk on his lips from afar as you walk off to grab your nappy bag, find your mum, and get ready for the rice toss.

[MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #time skip #second chance romance

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 1 year ago

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Fic Masterlist

Because Tumblr search features are shit. Fandoms, Fics, and Series are organized in alphabetical order. Each link will send you to the Tumblr version but there will be a link to the AO3 version within that post. If you would rather go straight to AO3, my account is linked in the post pinned on my blog.

Assassin's Creed:

Of Blades and Parchment Series

Tumblr tag: #Of Blades and Parchment

Altmal AU where Malik never became an assassin and instead works as a crippled bookseller. Series is in progress.

DPxDC

Two Crickets (My addition is only 646 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to a prompt by @/ailithnight and writing by @/omnicrafts and @/atiyasnake

The GIW has had Danny for an undeterminable amount of time. The strain is finally more than he can handle and he body hops into a brain dead clone, R13. Danny thinks he is having a nice dream. Kon is worried for the escaped clone he found in the middle of a field.

TW: mentions of tortue

Here's Where You'll Stay (3082 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Here's Where You'll Stay

"As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling. "

When Phantom comes down with Core Sickness it's up to John Constantine to save the ghost from fading.

Nothing Says "True Love" Like Being Given The Soul of Your Murderer (1510 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #nstllbgtsoym

Dead on Main ship. Addition to a post by @/nelkcats

"Another snarl caused him to lose his staring contest with the Bat. Nightwing was now standing between the two of them and appeared to be trying to placate the crime boss while Red Robin made the bloody stupid decision of trying to sneak up behind him. Red quickly paid the price for his folly, finding himself flat on his back pinned underneath Hood's boot while he honest to God snapped at Nightwing like a rabid dog.

"It's my gift! He gave it to me. Now fuck off before I m̶a̷k̸e̸ ̵y̶o̸u̶."

Yeah. Someone should probably interfere before they pissed him off anymore.

"You should corral your kids before one of em' loses a hand."

"Hngh." Batman leaves to break up the fight with Nightwing's aid. Hood scampers off to one of the corners of the cave, cradling the violet ball in his gloved hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It sounded like he was purring. John was suddenly very tired."

Rending Flesh From the Bone (3093 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #RFFTB

Dick wasn't so sure about Jason's "gut feeling", but what are brothers for if not to support each other during paranoia episodes? Now, deep underground in an abandoned subway tunnel, Dick is starting to have regrets as he watches the scene before him.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Slap a Bow on It (4752 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Slap a Bow on It

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

"Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

sketch of Danny's courting gift

Star Shoes (2772 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Star Shoes

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."

In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.

The Dead Stay Dead (My addition is only 679 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to writing by @/some-kind-of-creature and @/nerdpoe.

In which the LOA has a rule that those who die are never mentioned again and are erased from their records. Damian doesn't think to mention his late sister. Once he does he creates a portrait to commemorate her, but it turns out his sister is actually his brother now.

The Double-edged Blade of Chance (5309 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #The Double-edged Blade of Chance

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade.

Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight.

“Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”

"Why would I be a ghost?”

TW: Major Character Death, Child Neglect, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Depression

Unnamed fic (ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic)

Tumblr Tag: #ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic

Addition to a post by @/starwrighter

Fic is currently a work in progress with only a minimal amount released to the public under the Tumblr post. Once it's completely written chapters will be posted and linked independently.

#Void's masterlists #my writing #of blades and parchment #ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic #RFFTB #nstllbgtsoym #Here's Where You'll Stay #Slap a Bow on It #The Double-edged Blade of Chance

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lightdancingwords · 6 days ago

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Second Chances Masterlist

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader

Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts… and a tiny little roadblock.

Series Warnings: None for now, unless you are bothered by stories that have children (toddler aged) and single moms.

A/N: I can’t say ‘no’ to Beau! Had to write him again. This is a different story involving Beau and x female reader, separate from Come Find Me.

Part One | Part Two | IN PROGRESS

MAIN MASTERLIST

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necrotic-nephilim · 6 months ago

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Sorry if this might be a rude question but why don’t you just make a seperate account for your nsfw fics?

not rude, it's a valid question! tbh it's a combination of a couple reasons.

i started posting anonymous dead dove batcest fics long before i had the balls to make a tumblr. at first i was content to just leave them unassociated with each other because i didn't really care about them being tied to me. i made this blog to actually show solidarity to my partner who wanted to make a sideblog for Sandman comic stuff so we could cheerlead each other and be brave together, since i've wanted to make a batcest sideblog but i've been nervous about actually having to get it going. (mal ik you're reading this go be brave and actually make your blog so i can cheerlead you damnit-) only did it dawn on me then that i should probably mention the fics i've written on the blog after like, three of them were posted anonymously. and it would've annoyed me to have half of them anonymous and half of them not, because notifications for them would've gone in different places. i could go back and take my fics off anon if i wanted to, but i can't switch the account they're on without taking them down entirely and that'd fuck over people who have them bookmarked already.

which, ties into my second reason, if i made an entire second ao3 account it'd be harder for me to see notifications, reply to stuff, and post things for both accounts because i'd have to constantly switch. and honestly i'd be terrified of accidentally posting on the wrong one on a brain fog day. posting fics is always the most tedious part of writing them for me lol. it's easier for me to stay logged into one account and have all of my stuff in one place for me and just use the anonymous collection when i feel like it. if ao3 pseuds worked like tumblr blogs, where you can't see all my side blogs but i can, i would've used pseuds, but since you can see all pseuds on an ao3, i felt it was a moot point.

and the last reason is i just feel more comfortable being anonymous on ao3 because of the rise in anti culture. on tumblr it's very easy for me to just filter that out and find the people i want to follow and block the people i don't. i don't mind getting hate, on tumblr or on ao3. but i think, for whatever reason you want to blame it on, there's been a massive boom of antis on ao3 who are very entitled about how they read on ao3. i tag extensively, but i just feel safer from getting targeted attacks if everything i write on ao3 isn't attached to one profile. if people like a fic i wrote, want to find more i always link my tumblr in the notes, but if an anti wants to get huffy with me, they can't easily track down my other things. they definitely could if they wanted to, but being anonymous on ao3 just makes me feel more secluded, in a weird way. it's like saying "if you want you can come find me but on here i'm just a weird faceless guy throwing stuff in the void". i've used ao3's anon feature a lot, actually, i used to be a hydra trash party dumpster kid back when that was in it's prime.

i also used to be vaguely popular on a different tumblr blog and my main ao3 and while i think it'd definitely be cool if i got a decent chunk of followers on this blog too, i don't really miss having fanfiction do so well i got targetted hate on all of my fics from the same people, i had my fics stolen, etc. it was really exhausting for me. i have 120+ works on ao3, not counting what's anonymous, and that level of exposure tires me, even when i use my main ao3 to post things that aren't trashy. it's just a weird feeling knowing so many people are subscribed to you on ao3 and what if you post something they won't like because you jumped fandoms again, or you're posting something niche, or you don't think it fills enough fandom tropes to be well-liked. i used to obsessively think like that, and it made me not write the things i wanted to because i cared about numbers. and i don't want to slide back into that hole. writing on anonymous is mostly to remind myself i wrote this for me, and if other people like it, they can come find me, but i don't have to perform like that anymore. if i get a really weird fucked up idea, i can write the really weird fucked up idea. at the end of the day, just makes me more comfortable! but i get it's a super confusing set up from an outsider perspective so, i really don't mind the question, thank you for asking!!

#necrotic festerings #batcest #pro ship #necrotic answerings #tbh asking the question gave me the chance to explain it so ty!#might link this in my about me or my masterlist for ease of access #i don't want to like. overstate how big i was on an old blog bc i was not like. a celebrity by *any* means.#but i had a ship-specific blog and i was certainly a “big name fan” for that specific rarepair #and it like. took over my life when i was a teen #i look back on it fondly now but i really regret that i would obsess so heavily over numbers and what made a fic do well #my favorite fics to write were htp back then bc for htp culture writing on anon was normal since that was during the dreamwidth days #and i just. liked that veil of anonymity and i think i defaulted to that when i decided to finally start posting batcest stuff #(all of this makes me sound so old i'm only 22 i just started fandom really fucking young which i don't recommend)#and when i say one fic got big. i mean it. i have found that fic on instagram and pinterest and tiktok and even. facebook.#do you know what it's like when your fic gets reuploaded to facebook without your permission and you see what boomers think of it.#that was so mortifying.#funnily enough the boomers were actually really nice i was just shocked to find it there scrolling one day.#it was instagram that was super mean to me and traumatized my ass. man ppl dug into me for the tinest things. do not miss that.#anyway the point is #i've tasted vitality and niche fandom status(tm) and i hated both. and i just cannot do that to myself again #ergo #anon on ao3 and a blog to post my thoughts when i have them.#it's a nice system for me #i have some stuff on my main ao3 that toes the line of like. dark dead dove trash.#and i had antis get mad at me bc their fave fluffy fic was written by. gasp. a proshipper.#and yeah that soured me to existence on ao3.#getting into the rise of anti culture is a whole other discussion that'd have me going on for hours but i will shut up now.#wow this got long. i like to fucking talk don't i.

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holidaywishes · 5 months ago

Text

lilacs and ice cream

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Idk if your taking requests but, If you could (if your doing it) write something about Bo Bichette again please, preferably with a gn or fem reader. I’ve read everything that I can read about him that also applies with me.

Author's Note: Alright, @goodiesinthecloset21, I'm gonna do my best with this one. I want to add that I know absolutely nothing about baseball so any terminology is the work of a quick Google search or something I've heard in a movie. Anyway, I know that you sent your request like a million years ago so I hope after all this time, it gives you a bit of what you're looking for. I decided to do something softer this time, more fluff, since the last one was smut but let me know if that's not the way you wanted it to go and I can give it another shot. Thanks babe! Love ya, stay golden!

P.S. some of this is kinda giving “strained family relationship” which was unintentional, so I’m sorry about that. Hopefully, that doesn’t take away from the story.

masterlist

the other masterlist

Summer in Toronto was beautiful. You loved the way the flowers bloomed, the bright purples popping against the bright green grass; even on the smoggiest days. There was only ever one thing missing - someone to share it with. That is, until Bo came into your life. You had gone to the baseball game with your family begrudgingly, but the seats were good and you knew it was something that your dad had wanted for a long time

“I just want to be in that stadium,” he’d say at least twice a month for most of your life, “just once. To see a game and watch the Jays win”

It was nice to see him, and the rest of your family, so happy. You watched the game, intermittently laughing at your dad as he tried to start a wave that barely made it past your section, or when he spilled his popcorn after jumping up in excitement. You really started to get into it around the 3rd inning, the crowd was getting loud and rowdy and it started to rub off on you. By the time the game ended, you were beaming with excitement, so much so that you weren’t watching where you were going and you somehow walked right into a crowd of people.

“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry!” you laughed, “I guess that’ll teach me to watch where I’m going next time”

“That’s alright,” one voice said, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine. A bit embarrassed maybe,” you added before finally looking up to see who you’d bumped into. Speechless when you saw Bo Bichette smiling back at you, “but you know…” you continued, trying not to blush as you stared, “fine”

“Glad to hear it,” he said cheerfully before his teammates called him to the bus that was waiting for them, “don’t go running into anybody else now.” You watched for a second while he hopped on the bus, feeling a small tug on your arm from your mom pulling you towards your family

“(Y/N), come on, what are you doing?” she laughed

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered distractedly, “I’m coming.” Your mind wandered to that encounter all through your family meal and you weren’t sure you could ever forget it - or that you wanted to.

It had been nearly a week since you bumped into Bo Bichette at the Jays game. Honestly, it kept you going during your boring serving shifts at the pub you worked at.

“I mean it was a fun story,” your co-worker, Brit, smirked as she leaned against the wall where you were cleaning a table, “but don’t you think you should be over it by now? I mean.. it was a chance encounter,” she teased, “we don’t live in a rom-com”

“I’m sorry,” you laughed in return, “but it’s one of the more exciting things that have happened in my life. And.. yeah, maybe I’ve been single for a little longer than I would like.” Brit gave you an almost pitiful look before the door was burst open by a loud crowd of men, laughing amongst themselves before stopping at the host stand to ask for a table; you could only watch for a moment as they were directed to your section before you were pulled away to run food. When you finally got to the table of boastful boys, you noticed who exactly they were

“Well, hello again,” Bo smiled as he greeted you, “I was hoping I'd see you again. Maybe get a name this time?”

“H-h-hi,” you stammered, as you looked at him until you realized you should probably be professional, “hi, I'm (Y/N),” you course-corrected, “I'll be your server today. How is everyone doing today?” It was an awkward segue but you didn't know what to do

“Hi, (Y/N), I'm Bo. Nice to meet you,” he said, introducing himself in return and it calmed you down enough for you to... not look like a complete moron when doing your job, “officially.” You felt a blush creep across your face as you continued to take everyone’s orders. When you finally left the table, you exhaled sharply while your co-workers giggled

“I can’t believe this,” you whispered to yourself, “this is insane”

“It’s gonna be fine,” your friend said with a smile, “think of it this way: you’re finally continuing your rom-com”

“Come on, Brit,” you replied, hanging your head, “this isn’t funny. I’m too flustered to give them… to be a good server”

“You’ll be great!” she continued, “just be your bubbly self. They’re just people, don’t think of them otherwise”

“Yeah, just people,” you repeated, “incredibly well-known, well-recognizable, wealthy people”

“You know you also have other tables…” one of your other co-workers, who had been listening to the entire conversation, interjected, forcing you to snap out of your pity party

“SHIT!” you said quietly, rushing out to check on your tables, refilling water glasses and clearing plates where needed, all the while keeping an eye on the players of the Toronto Blue Jays. At some point in the night, the host came to grab you

“(Y/N), they’re asking for you,” the host said, “I don’t think they’re upset but they don’t want to talk to anyone else. Not even the managers”

“How long ago did they ask?” you asked

“Like less than a minute” she answered

“And they’re not upset?”

“No.. I mean I don’t think so but maybe they’re pretending? Being ‘polite mad’?” You chuckled a bit before thanking her and heading back to them, greeting them happily, making sure everything was alright

“We just wanted to ask you a question” Bo smiled

“Bo wanted to ask you a question,” one of the others clarified, and your interest was suddenly peaked

“Ah, okay,” you returned, placing your hand on the back of Bo’s chair, “what’s the question?”

“What are you doing after your shift?” he asked

“It’ll be late,” you admitted with a chuckle, “so I’ll probably be going to bed”

“What time are you off?”

“I’m on a split tonight, so I’m here until at least 10pm” you replied

“Do you work tomorrow?” Bo continued, earning a shy smile from you

“Tomorrow’s my day off. I hardly ever work Sundays”

“Are you free around.. noon?”

“Sure,” you said, “for what?”

“There’s this path I love hiking, how do you feel about that?” you said that would be great, both of you smiling at each other, almost completely ignoring everyone at the table. It took you until you got into the kitchen that you realized you had just been asked out on a date - ‘I guess it has been a while’ you thought - and now you didn’t know how to act. Bo was the one who confirmed the date, leaving you with a blush that covered your whole face; you were sure it looked like you were having an allergic reaction but you hoped he wasn't embarrassed of you...

“I'll see you tomorrow” you managed to get out after what felt like an eternity

“Tomorrow,” he said with a smile, walking backward as he left the pub, keeping his eyes locked on you until one of his teammates turned him around so he didn't hurt himself by running into the door.

You woke up the next morning and practically hopped out of bed, immediately texting Brit

“Did I dream Bo Bichette asking me out on a date?” you asked

“No,” she replied plainly, after about 10 minutes

“I'm going hiking with a professional athlete today?”

“Yes”

“WHAT DO I DO?!”

“First of all,” she started a string of texts, “it's 8 in the morning, calm down.” You chuckled at her text, knowing that she had probably bitterly rolled out of bed after hearing the chime of her phone, “second, what do you mean what do you do? You go on a date with Professional Baseball Player, Bo Bichette”

“Okay.. sure," you typed, “but what do I wear?”

“You're going on a hike. Don't wear jeans”

“Thank you for that”

“Always here to help”

“I should start getting ready...”

“Again, it's 8AM” she repeated

“And the date is at noon...”

“Yeah”

“You don't need four hours to get ready”

“I need to shower”

“20 minutes”

“I have to find an outfit”

“5 minutes, 10 max”

“I have to do my hair and make myself look presentable”

“We'll say 30 minutes to be safe”

“I have to eat something...” You were grasping now but what could you do, you were nervous

“Maybe he's planning on taking you somewhere after the hike?” she countered, "I don't think eating before a hike is recommended”

“BRIT!” you text-shouted, "I'm freaking out. I don't want to be freaking out but I am. I don't want to make a fool of myself. Or him...”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you could practically hear her sigh through the screen, "you're not going to make a fool of yourself or him. No one's gonna be made a fool today. But you don't need to worry so much. Wear a pair of shorts, the ones you really like, bring a bandana or something - to get your hair off your neck a bit but also to get rid of any sweat you don't want him to see - and make sure you wear sneakers. Don't wear boots or flip-flops. And sunscreen. Always wear sunscreen!” You thanked her quickly, jokingly saying that you were glad she was finally getting on board, and placed your phone back on its charger before hopping in the shower.

“Maybe Brit was wrong. Maybe this really was a mistake…” you grumbled to yourself as you fixed your outfit in the mirror, nearly jumping out of your skin when the doorbell rang. You tried to be as calm as you could, letting out a deep exhale before answering the door

“Hey!” Bo said with a wide smile

“Hi,” you said simply, any doubt you had was now replaced with butterflies in your stomach - being nervous was so basic but you couldn’t help it.

“I.. you ready?” He stammered. It made you feel better that he seemed a little out of his element as well

“Let me just grab a water bottle” you smiled, leaving the door open as you ran to the kitchen; a way of saying ‘you can come in, judge my apartment a little if you want,’ but you were maybe just a little too quick.

“Let’s get going then,” he remarked happily and the two of you were on your way. You weren’t sure what to expect with this hike but Bo using the word path led you to believe it wouldn’t be that bad - which would be ideal since the last time you properly went hiking would be at least 5 years ago. However, it turns out, you forgot to take into account that Bo Bichette was, in fact, Bo Bichette: Professional MLBer. In the middle of the hike, you leaned against a tree, claiming you needed the shade

“I forgot to put on sunscreen and I don't want to burn,” you falsely claimed, catching your breath as Bo leaned against the tree with you

“Sure,” he smirked, bringing out his water bottle to take a sip, “I mean I don't burn as easily but we can stay in the shade.” Once you had finally evened out your breathing, you took a sip of water and looked out at the path that you were about to continue walking

“It's beautiful out here,” you smiled, leading both of you back onto the path at a slower pace now, “I can tell why you like it so much”

“I almost brought you flowers, lilacs,” he gestured to the flowers on the path, “but I knew the path and I knew there would be lilacs here, so I decided against it”

“Aww,” you said, pouting slightly to hopefully show how cute you thought it was, “that's really sweet. I would've appreciated it either way but I'm glad I got to see this first”

“I chose right then?” he asked eagerly

“Yes,"”you smiled, “you chose right.” Bo kept your pace for the rest of the walk but you could tell it was not what he was used to and you felt a little silly not telling him you hadn't been hiking in so long. “I'm sorry that this wasn't a very.. exciting hike,” you laughed uncomfortably, “I haven't been on a trail of any kind in about 5 years. I used to do a lot more physical activity and then I guess I just kinda... stopped”

“That's okay,” he smiled in return as the trail came to an end, “it was nice to see it at this pace. Yes, I do typically go a bit faster,” he laughed to himself, “but I don't always take in the beauty of the actual walk. So, I guess I should thank you”

“You're very welcome,” you returned jokingly and he bowed to add to the humour. The two of you finally got to the car and you hesitated as to what was going to happen next

“Everything okay?” he asked, noticing your reluctance to open the door

“I just... had a really good time,” you admitted, “I'm wondering, I guess, what's next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we going somewhere else or should we end it here?” you said, “I mean, sorry,” you continued awkwardly, “I don't want to be presumptuous. I'm just flushed”

“What would you like to do?” he smirked

“Whatever you had planned” you admitted

“Then, I think we should go get some ice cream,” he offered, “I know a great place nearby.” You happily agreed before hopping into the passenger seat of the car. You felt butterflies the entire car ride to the ice cream shop and tried not to stare at him too often but would occasionally catch him looking back at you.

“Is Rocky Road your usual choice?” you asked, as you scooped a bit of your favourite into a spoon and bringing it to your mouth

“No,” he admitted, “I’ve never actually had it. I just wanted to try it”

“And…?” you giggled, “what do you think?”

“It’s okay,” he laughed, “I’ve had better but I’ve also had worse.” You smiled at his words and continued eating your own ice cream, taking in the pastel colours of the parlour at the same time, when you heard Bo giggle slightly; your attention immediately drawn back to him

“What?” you blushed

“You just have…” he began, gesturing to his mouth and it took you a minute to understand that you must have ice cream around your mouth.

“Oh,” you said in surprise, tinged with embarrassment, but his finger soon grazed your lip, wiping away the small mess there. “Thank you,” you whispered in this unbelievable rom-com moment, his finger lingering slightly before he cleared his throat and removed it

“My pleasure” he grinned. You wondered if there might be a kiss but let him take the lead - you didn’t want to set expectations. As he drove you home, you couldn’t help think how sweet this all was - the walk, the lilacs, the ice cream, the moment - but the one thought that kept sticking in your mind was: I really hope there's a second date. He walked you to the door to your apartment building, stopping short of entering the lobby, “I had a really nice time”

“I did too,” you returned, “thank you for… everything. It’s been one of the best dates I’ve had in the city”

“I’m glad,” he smiled, reminding you of your first meeting, “maybe we can do it again?” You felt giddiness take over you and you rushed to agree, hoping that did not throw him off. “Perfect,” he finally said after what felt like a long pause, “then I think the lake is open. It’s another physical activity, I know, but paddle boats are always fun. What do you say?” The smile that spread across your face felt like it might consume you and all you could do was nod your head in agreement, “I will pick you up tomorrow then, same time?”

“I’ll bring the sunscreen,” you joked, “I wouldn’t want to burn.” He smiled at you lightly before placing a small kiss to your cheek, a feeling you’d think about until the very moment he picked you up for each and every date.

#bo bichette #major league baseball #mlb #mlb fandom #Bo bichette fic #Bo bichette imagine #this was the first of my drafts that I finished #it still took me… what? almost a year?#I just haven’t had a chance to look at it #but this was one that I wanted to be cute so it was easy to write #hopefully it’s good #sometimes I can’t tell #or I doubt myself lol #masterlist #the other masterlist

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