#i may also write fanfiction

[iminpaineland]

never not thinking about how steve and eddie’s kid would probably be an emo

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 7/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[221bug]

God, I’m jumping in the deep end, it’s more fun to swim in

Heard the risk is drowning but I’m gonna take it

I’m gonna bend till I break and you’ll be my favorite mistake

Wish you could hold me here shaking, you’re the risk I’m gonna take it

Why aren’t you here in my bedroom, hopelessly boring without you

Too soon to tell you ‘I love you’

TOO SOON TO TELL YOU ‘I LOVE YOU!’

Risk by Gracie Abrams

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Uncontrolled Instincts: Vergil x Male Reader

MINORS DNI; THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

SERIOUSLY, GO AWAY!

SUMMARY: The eldest son of Sparda has been through many trials and tribulations within his almost fifty years of life. Despite this, Vergil was still learning about the different ways his heritage could bring him to his wit's end-- how it could bring him to his knees and leave him completely and utterly at your mercy.

BEGINNING NOTES: Requested by @kasianthus on Tumblr! (Sorry this took so long--didn't know if should still stage because of that so sorry if you aren't really into DMC anymore in the like year this took lmao sorry) This legit has been sitting half-finished for months (Like this was requested way back on March 5th lmfao); so I figured I should probably finish it lmfao 🦢💧🦢 Top/Dom Vergil x Sub/Bottom Male reader Pre-established relationship Semi-mindless smut with a lil' fluff Lots of smut--like a ton. Rut (Vergil); the reader is unaware of this being a thing in devils Minor scent kink Small masturbation scene (Vergil) Mating/Breeding kink (Possessive of the reader) Biting/Blood (Bleeding?) kink: Vergil bites hard enough to draw blood (he is a devil after all) then does some kind of painful stuff--it’s not very long or anything but I figured it is important to mention. Bruising + Scratching Minor Oral (blowjob; Reader receiving.) Monster fucker stuff; dick sleeve/slit stuff, etc. Devil Trigger sex Overstimulation Knotting 💧🦢💧 >Unrealistic sizes for his Triggered dick(s)--just let me have fun. If you want actual sizes, go to Vergil’s H/C chapter. >Because of the mental state Vergil’s in, he’s a bit sappy--almost reminiscent of V--during some parts. >I used the concept art from DMC 5 as a reference for Vergil’s (regular) Devil Trigger; figured I should put that here to avoid any confusion (since it’s very different from his 3-design and semi-different than his 4-design). Dante’s 5 DT has pupils so Vergil’s does too (even though the concept art doesn’t; neither does Dante’s concept art btw).

===

     “That is an idiotic suggestion,” Vergil’s lip twitched as he lightly snarled, “Although I shouldn’t expect much else from you.”

     “Yeah? Well, if you’re so damned smart,” Dante crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, scowling at Vergil, “Then what’s your plan.”

     “I told you,” the blue devil squinted, “I can handle it alone.”

     Dante slammed his hands down on his desk and shot up from his chair, “And as I have told you ,” he rounded to the front of his desk, leaning against it slightly, and stood face-to-face with his older brother, “ No, you can’t. ” 

     The devils stared at one another, growling while exchanging death glares. Amongst the loud snarling, however, a stressed-out sigh could be heard. Lady, who had grabbed a beer, was trying to ignore the twins' incessant bickering. She's been waiting for over an hour for Nico and Trish to swing by and pick her up and she was almost at her breaking point. Quietly, she tapped her fingers against the half-drunk bottle while grumbling to herself. A part of her felt like she was babysitting two toddlers rather than sitting at the establishment of two middle-aged devil hunters. As she raised the bottle to take a drink, a loud commotion behind her caught her attention. Slamming down the bottle, she whipped around with a venomous glare.

     With hands wrapped around one another, the twins wrestled momentarily only to be cut abruptly by Vergil slamming Dante’s back through the railing and treads of the staircase. A loud strangled coughing came from Dante as one of the metal bars speared him through the chest, splattering Vergil’s face with a trace amount of blood. 

    “What is wrong with you two?!" Lady’s tolerance had finally run out, "I just fucking fixed yesterday's damage!” She stood from her seat, arms crossed.

     Hearing her irate tone, Vergil released Dante’s neck from his grasp and stood up; not saying a word. 

     Dante groaned, looking up at his twin, “Lil’ help?” He stuck out his hand which Vergil used to yank Dante back to his feet.

     Vergil straightened his coat, “I think I will take my leave for today-”

     “Good,” Dante shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand over the gaping hole in his middle, feeling it slowly repair itself, “Can’t stand you being so pissy.”

     Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “You are no better, Dante. Both of you are acting like children.”

     “I am not,” Dante huffed.

     Vergil glared at his brother from the corner of his eye before strutting towards the garage door, “I am leaving,” he stopped after he was slightly past Lady and turned over to his shoulder, addressing her, "Contact me only if necessary.”

     With that, Vergil left The Devil May Cry.

==

     Upon opening the front door to your shared home, Vergil instantly felt a heavy hazy heat spread throughout his limbs. He took a slow deep breath as he stood in the entryway, trying to get a hold of himself. Unhurriedly, he hung his coat and slid off his boots, mumbling to himself about his next move. He decided that a shower may ease his mind as he wandered into the cozy co-inhabited home.

     The blue devil warily looked around, trying to avoid you. Eventually, he found you in the bedroom, making things difficult, since he needed to stop in there for clothing. He peered in through the door and saw that you were lying on your stomach, reading a book while softly humming. From where he was standing, he got a perfect view of your ass, only worsening his issue . 

     Vergil shook his head and took a deep breath trying to deter his thoughts; only after which did he realize that getting a deep whiff of your scent was perhaps the worst thing he could do at the moment. He stood with a scrunched face and closed eyes as he tried to ground himself, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming perverse thoughts eating at him, and the fiery feeling spreading to his lower half.

     You turned over and sat at the edge of the bed, dangling your legs over the edge, “Hey-! You’re home early,” you flashed him a cheerful smile that quickly fell as you got nothing but silence in return, “Everything alright, Vergil?” 

     “Yes, everything is fine,” Vergil’s eyes avoided yours and his answer was quick and emotionless.

     You raised a brow at his seemingly discombobulated reaction, “You sure?”

     He nodded and moved to grab some casual clothing from the dresser, “I am going to shower.”

     Your brow raised further, “Okay..?”

     Vergil looked over to you as if he were going to speak but closed his mouth, turned away from you, and left.

     In the brief moments that your eyes met with his, you noticed the small bits of dried blood on his clothes and face. It was probably Dante’s, knowing how much the two had been fighting the past week or so; however, that didn’t make it any better nor did it ease your mind. You slid off the bed, and placed the book on the nightstand, leaving the room. Unhurriedly, you meandered down the hall as you mulled through what could have upset Vergil so much. 

     As of late, he's been in such a sour mood that he barely even says "Good morning" or "Good night", not to mention the lack of physical affection. He hasn't even been sleeping in the bedroom with you, "preferring” to sleep on the couch. A frown decorated your face as a wicked thought echoed in your mind, "What if he is distancing himself so he can disappear…"

     You shook your head, "He'd never do that, he loves me... Right?"

     With another shake of your head, you decided that you were going to talk with him once he's finished his shower.

     When Vergil entered the restroom, he lazily tossed his change of clothes off to the side and turned the shower faucet as cold as he could. While the water ran, he stripped down and neatly placed his worn clothing in the hamper.

     Just being in your presence had made him unbearably hard and was driving him up the wall. It seems even the Dark Slayer isn’t able to conquer his instincts, much to his vexation. 

     A quiet hiss left his lips as he stepped under the icy water. Vergil’s skin was beyond sweltering, being so hot that it was bothering him; a man whose body runs on average at around 120°F (49°C). The contrast between him and the nearly frozen water created a sauna-esc environment--fog quickly filling the room. As he washed his face off, he stared mindlessly at the wall. He’d never experienced something like this before; and, to be quite frank, it's exhausting. The sheer amount of emotional ups and downs was enough to make him nauseous. Not to mention that he’d been avoiding any sort of affection towards or with you for nearly a week.

     It all mixed up into a hellish disaster that Vergil just wanted to end. Tired of the immense toll this was taking on him, in every way possible.

     With folded arms, he stood facing the water as a small discontent grumble left his lips. He had hoped that the cold water would have killed his hard-on; however, it didn’t. Now he was just miserably standing under frigid water with a rigid cock. 

     Vergil let out a low growl of irritation, his face scrunching into a grimace as he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite not being one for masturbation, he decided to try and handle his urges alone. He ran his hands up his face and then slowly back down, sighing loudly. Then he turned around and leaned his forehead against the wall, the water now beating against his back; a feeling that would have most definitely troubled him if he weren’t so worked up. 

     His brow furrowed as he shut his eyes, placing one hand on the wall and the other around his throbbing dick. Slowly, his hand moved at the thought of what he’d do to you if only you were here harshly pinned between the wall and him. 

     The feeling of you squirming underneath him as he bit down on your neck. Your groans as he shoves himself inside your tight hole. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling it in ecstasy. How deep and hard he would pound your insides. Growling obscene and perverse comments into your ear and watching you react; feeling you react. Folding you as he bent your legs up as far as he could, his nails digging into your skin. 

     Vergil wanted nothing more than to claim you --to breed you --to leave you unable to move and full to the brim with his cum.

     The blue devil’s face scrunched further with every quickening stroke, trying to reach his peak, “Ngh- ha~” A frustrated whine of a huff escaped his nose as he bit down on his lip.

     Unknowingly, he started bucking his hips into his hand in pursuit of the tantalizingly close orgasm. However, try as he may, it never came; all he managed to do was work himself up even further and nearly break his fingers from how hard he was pressing against the tiles.

     After what seemed like an eternity, he removed his hand from his cock and just stood there with his eyes closed. He placed his face against his bicep with a deep exasperated inhale, trying to figure out a solution that wouldn’t involve him explaining what was happening. 

     A soft knock at the door caused Vergil to choke on his exhale, “Vergil, you alright? You’ve been in there for over an hour…”

     Although you didn’t care how long he took, it was a bit concerning when his longest shower ever was fifteen minutes . In combination with how he was earlier, you were well within your right to worry. 

     He felt his cock twitch at the sound of your voice as he ran his thumb across his tip, doing his best to subvert the idea of asking you to join him, “I am fine,” he straightened his posture with a small sigh, “I will be out momentarily.”

     The blue devil waited to hear you walk away before he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried off and slid on his black boxer briefs and an indigo t-shirt. Then, as per usual, he went to pomade his hair but found his tin completely exhausted. Vergil balled up his hands, his nails lightly puncturing his palms in anger. In his heated departure from the shop, he had completely forgotten to pick some up before returning home. In a vain attempt at normalcy, he used the dampness from the shower to slick it back. 

     Then the real issue became apparent. He needed to figure out how to hide his excitement . The blue devil mulled over different ideas as he moved his jaw back and forth. It was then that he noticed he, unintentionally, grabbed a baggy set of grey sweatpants; ones that would be able to hide most of his painfully aching flesh if he wore them just right and tucked himself in a very specific way. 

     After a few attempts, he managed to get it right and looked at himself in the mirror; it was barely noticeable, allowing him to take a sigh of relief. As he opened the door, he was able to place where you were in the house by the sound of your heart, you were in the living room. Knowing that if he saw you he’d lose the struggle with himself, he quickly slipped into his study; which was right between the bathroom and bedroom.

     The Dark Slayer quietly shut the door and turned on a desk lamp. The room wasn’t anything too elaborate or fancy; it only contained three bookshelves, a small desk, and Vergil’s favorite chair. The blue devil grabbed his current book from the desk and sat down, making the plastic ever-so-slightly creak underneath him. With the lick of his fingertips, Vergil paged through to where he had left off in the novel. 

     After nearly ten minutes of re-reading the same page over and over, Vergil slammed the book shut with a growl. At this point, his body was beyond burning with lust and he wanted nothing more than to soothe his pulsating cock. Moving his jaw in thought, he debated trying to relieve his itch again; however, before he could decide, a gentle knock came from the door.

     “Vergil..?” your voice was barely audible.

     In a panic, Vergil snapped back, “What?” He scrunched his face and pursed his lips in immediate regret at how he answered. 

     There was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh, “Never mind, sorry; didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you be.” 

     As you began to walk away, Vergil bolted up from his seat; upsetting you was the last thing he wanted to do. Opening the door as quickly as possible, he called out to you, “Wait-!” 

     You turned around; only a dozen or so strides away. With a brow raised in curiosity, you noted how disheveled Vergil looked: between his outfit, hair, and how overall ragged he looked you knew something was wrong. The two of you stood staring at one another for a minute or so; neither of you being sure what to say or do next. 

     The blue devil turned from your gaze to look down, shifting awkwardly, “I…” he stood with his lips slightly parted and shifted once more.

     You took a few steps towards him, “Is something wrong, Vergil?” 

     He shook his head ‘no’ and tensed his shoulders, “Stay back,” although he intended it to sound commanding, it sounded more like he was pleading.

     Your brow creased, “Why?” 

     That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? 

     The intense aching in his body only worsened by being near you, he scrunched his face trying to block out his insatiable yearning for you, “I can’t-” Vergil looked up from the flooring to you as he spoke softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

     “What does that-” you shook your head, “Vergil, what is going on?” You continued to steadily and carefully approach the high-strung man. 

     With every step you took, his body tensed up further and further. Part of him wanted to run as far from you as possible, ashamed and afraid of his need; the other wanted nothing more than to slam you against the floor and let into his sinful primal desires. He closed his eyes and took a deep steading breath; doing neither of those things--unintentionally allowing you to get closer.

     You stood only two or so strides away and were able to hear a faint growling, “My Love?” When you went to grab his hand, his eyes snapped open.

     Vergil jolted backward and hit the still-open study door that was behind him… which broke it right off its hinges with a loud cracking thud. You flinched at the sudden loud noise and pulled your hand back.

     He turned to his side slightly to look down at the broken door, “Fantastic…” he then turned back to you with a sigh, “Forgive me, I-”

     That’s when he noticed where you were staring at his body.

     You squinted and pursed your lips, doing your best to stifle a small laugh, “Is your weird mood cause of that ?” You gestured with your eyes down to his painfully obvious hard-on.

     Vergil shifted his jaw and huffed out a meek answer, “It is more than that, I am afraid.”

     “Care to share?” you set a hand on your hip and smirked, very much oblivious to the severity of what was going on.

     The blue devil shook his head, “No-” A shiver ran up his spine as he watched you slowly and intensely eye him up, “You’re not going to like the answer.”

     “Vergil, we’ve slept together quite a bit,” you gently grabbed one of his hands, “What is so different now?”

     His voice was strained as he gripped your hand tightly and paused a moment for a moment before continuing, “This is out of my control.”

     “What? Vergil,” you furrowed your brow in confusion, “What does that mean?”

     He opened his eyes and stared at you momentarily, using his tongue to play with his teeth in thought. 

     “Don’t make me beg,” you lightly teased.

     “Fine,” Vergil pushed you against the wall, a knee placed right between your legs, and holding both your hands off to your sides, “I want you,” he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I need to--” he paused for a moment in thought, “I need to breed you,” behind his voice you could hear a rumble, telling you how desperate he really is. 

     He placed small kisses along your jawline and pulled back to look you in the eyes, pleading with you to save him from this torment of self-restraint he has been going through for nearly a week now. 

     You raised a brow, “And how’s that any different than normal?” You gave him a suggestive sultry smirk. 

      He cautiously placed his lips atop yours; despite his current affliction, he wanted to make sure that he took things slow--at least, slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt you. The kisses were long, heated, and sloppy. The both of you moved your mouths together in an almost exaggerated manner, perfectly synchronized. Vergil pushed against you and a low rumble filled each of his motions; doing his best to show you how much he needs you. How much he desires you in your entirety; mind, spirit, and body. How much he wishes to consume your frail humanity and turn you into his sinful plaything. 

     The blue devil’s grip tightened around your wrists as he fought his urge to demolish you right here and now. The heat from his body was overwhelming. Both he and you were acutely aware of it, a very thin line of sweat adorning the two of you. Vergil pushed his leg up further between your legs, lovingly nudging your slowly growing arousal, listening to the faint groans you gave.

     After a few minutes of these slow impassioned kisses, he slid his tongue into your mouth. Excitedly he explored every bit that he could. Though Vergil had tasted your sweet tongue many times before, he always had the same amount of giddiness as he did the first time. His growling had become prominent enough that you could feel it within your mouth; a new, but welcomed, feeling. 

     With a gentle roughness, Vergil bit at your lips and tugged on them, which you lovingly returned. A small smirk decorated his lips as he let out a happy huff against you before diving into another plethora of fiery lustful kisses. With each languid motion of his plush lips against yours, his grip tightened around your wrists; gradually losing the arousing factor and becoming painful--you weren’t even sure if he realized that he was doing it.

     Breaking away from his lips for a brief moment, you let out a low hiss, “Vergil, that kind of hurts,” you squirmed against his hold. 

     He stood there with his forehead against yours, loosening his grip slightly. With a low husky growl of a voice, he whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, “I need more,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “Please.” His eyes met with yours, they were heavy and glazed over; he wasn’t asking you, he was begging .

     “Just--” You did your best to stay calm, knowing that Vergil was far from it, “Give me a minute to get ready and I’m all yours..?” 

     A small displeased grumble left his lips before he bit at your lower lip, pulling it slowly, then whispered against you, “You’d best hurry,” he released his grip on your wrists, “Best not to keep me waiting,” he turned and walked towards the bedroom, leaving you in a confused light-headed daze.

     Once within the bedroom, he grabbed the nearly empty lube from the side table and set it on the tabletop. Absent-mindedly, he began to tap his foot, doing his best to ignore his slowly thinning patience. Vergil was still rather uneasy about informing you about what was truly going on. The two of you had been romantically involved for many years now, but it was only within the past year that the two of you had become sexually involved. In hindsight, Vergil regrets not explaining the consequences of doing so.

     The consequences of mating with a devil.

     A nearly inaudible creak in the floorboards caught Vergil’s attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Instantly, the blue devil was upon you and was as close to you as possible, his lips connected with yours once again. With a startled moan, you grabbed his biceps and felt him dig his fingertips into your sides as he tried to pull you impossibly close. 

     Not giving you a chance to think, Vergil moved you over to the bed and had you pinned beneath him. Using one of his hands, he held both of yours above your head as he stared down at you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, thumbing over your skin slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

     The blue devil’s hand drifted down your neck and to your chest, “I am sorry for this.”

     “For what?” You tilted your head.

     Without answering, Vergil leaned down and bit down on your neck. A sharp pain caused you to flinch and let out a low groan. He’d pierced through your skin and was working his teeth further into your flesh. It was uncommon for Vergil to make marks where others would be able to see them, but he never has drawn blood or bitten you this hard before. An uneasy feeling pricked at the edges of your mind--the unnerving feeling of being a devil’s prey.

     Once Vergil felt the mark was dark enough, he leaned back up as he licked his lips and teeth clean of your blood. Your eyes met with his and Vergil had a crazed stare that sent cold shivers down your spine, it was a feral dominant look that only worsened the growing bad feeling in your gut. He moved to the other side of your neck and gave it the same treatment; puncturing your flesh deeply.  

     You let out a sharp moan as you felt him remove his teeth and give the new mark small loving licks. Curious as to how’d you respond, he took one of the tips of his split tongue and pushed it into one of the teeth holes. With pursed lips, your brow scrunched and you pulled away from the feeling; however, Vergil wasn’t done. He quickly placed another bite atop the same spot, moving ever-so-slightly out of line with the already there divots. The blue devil was enjoying the iron taste of the thick red substance and he wanted to taste you more; perhaps a side effect of him being the only Sparda descendant to consume human blood in mass? 

     With a third bite to the same spot, you finally spat out a whimper; one that wasn’t of pleasure. However, the devil didn’t notice and clenched his jaw harder at your struggling. 

     “Vergil, stop-!” You jerked away from him with a voice that was somewhere between angry and frightened--not a hint of enjoyment in earshot.

     It took him a moment to react, removing his teeth with a low faintly animalistic huff. The blue devil leaned up and looked down at you, watching you writhe at the painful feeling, assessing the situation. A prominent red stain had adorned his lips, teeth, and surrounding skin; he looked as if he were truly attempting to eat you. A few tears pricked at the edges of your eyes which caused him to look away, almost shameful. 

     “Vergil?”

     He released your hands and sat still, looking like a kicked puppy. 

     You leaned up and gently placed a hand on the side of his jaw, turning him to face you. Vergil’s eyes were glazed over and his lips slightly parted, still very obviously aroused but hesitant to continue. You ran a thumb along his lower lip, wiping blood off the stained surface. Slowly, you connected with his lips. 

     With a loving force, you pushed your lips hard against him and moved your hand from his jaw to the side of his neck, firmly holding him. Using your other hand, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him into you. All the while, you’d pushed your tongue into his mouth which earned a surprised muffled moan from Vergil. 

     His mouth tasted, unsurprisingly, of blood and was broiling hot. Vergil worked himself into your grove, moving along to the rhythm you were setting; a rarity in your relationship. You moved your hand up from his neck and interweaved your fingers with his hair, grasping the strands tightly. A small amount of pride pricked at the edges of your mind as you heard him let out a low unfiltered moan and felt him tremble under your grasp. This, however, didn’t last long. 

     Unwilling to remain submissive, Vergil pushed you downwards again. Mindlessly his kisses began to wander around your skin placing small kisses along your clothed shoulders and chest. In return, you gently groped at his shoulders and arms, earning a low moan from your devilish lover. 

     You noticed that he was still wet from his shower as you ran your hands under his shirt giving his skin a soft smooth feel. Your fingertips flattened against his pecs, kneading against him. Slowly, you made your way over to his nipples and pinched them tightly. His back arched slightly at the feeling and he let out a low breathy moan.

     However, the blue devil’s hands weren’t stationary and had begun to move, drifting downwards. They rested right at the edge of your shirt for a moment as he felt you grope his chest. Then, bit by bit, he slid his hands underneath your shirt. Taking the hint, you removed your hands from him and pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

     The blue devil’s slender fingers groped along your chest, seeming almost desperate to feel your body. Your hands grabbed the edge of his shirt and began to tug at it. Vergil leaned up and pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at you with slightly labored breathing. 

     In all his years of life, in neither Hell nor the human world, has he ever had he found another so captivating as you are. Even during times like these, times of sinful lust, you still managed to look holy to the tarnished devil; a sacred being that he’d gladly become a martyr over, someone he’d give his life up for. Despite his irritation at his current affliction, he can’t help but be glad that it is with you and that he found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

     As he stared, you stared back. 

     A small amount of pride tugged at your heart at how you’d managed to get someone like Vergil, someone so beautiful. Your eyes focused on his partially agape kiss-swollen lips that he’d roll his tongue over moistening them every so often. His hair was down courtesy of the lack of pomade and clung to the still-wet skin of his brow, giving him a rather ragged look. Despite Dante being his twin, the two looked nothing alike in your eyes--even with the same hairstyle. Slowly your gaze traveled to his half-lidded eyes when you noticed something; his eyes were the icy glowing blue of his Devil Trigger. 

     You wriggled to sit upright, “You’re quite worked up, huh?” With a smile, you watched Vergil’s face become red and you placed a hand on the side of his neck, thumbing over his throat softly.

     “Why do you say that?” his voice quivered a bit as he felt your hand slowly move down from his neckline to his hips.

     “You’re acting… strange ,” you ran your hand close to his bulge, purposely missing it, and rested your hand on his thigh.

     He gave you a half-confused half-disappointed look.

     “Not that I don’t find this…” you gently rubbed his thigh, earning a stifled moan from the devil, “ aggressively dominant side of you alluring.”

     “Do you?” he smirked slightly, “How strange…” Vergil leaned in and gave you small pecking kisses.

     You smiled widely and spoke between kisses, “Care to share what the special occasion is?” 

     Vergil quietly chuckled and murmured against your lips, “In time.”

     Between loud sweet pecks, you gently whispered, “Come on, please Vergil?”

     Instead of answering, he gave you a long kiss; one that only broke once he felt you pushing away for air. Vergil’s fingers gently ghosted the three-times-bitten dark spot he’d left on your neck, staring with concern.

     Noticing his upset attitude, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

     “Does it… hurt ?” His voice was soft, with a small tinge of sadness.

     “You want me to be honest?” 

     He nodded.

     “Yes, it hurts, but-!” You made sure to cut him off, knowing damn well what he was going to say, “It’s fine and it’ll heal,” you ran soft kisses up from the hand you’d been kissing and to his shoulder, resting there for a moment, “It’s alright.”

     “I am sorry for harming you,” he looked to the side, his eyes meeting with yours, “I didn’t think that I…” His voice cracked as gazed upon you with remorse.

     You leaned up from his skin and looked at him with a soft smile, “Don’t worry about it, Vergil…” With a soft sigh, you leaned forward and placed a soft gentle long kiss on the underside of his jaw, “It’s flattering to know that you want me that badly, dear.”

     Vergil pushed you back downwards, straddling your hips. His fingertips pressed into you as he eyed you up and down and, with a low dark desperate tone, he remarked, “That doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel right now.” 

     As he began to run his digits down your body, he leaned down and placed a very soft kiss on the tender spot. Bit by bit Vergil began to kiss down your middle, mumbling very softly against you, “ “The Fountains mingle with the river/And the rivers with the ocean,/The winds of heaven mix for ever,/With a sweet emotion;/Nothing in the world is single,/”,” he stopped right above your navel and lightly bit at the skin, staring up at you and locking with your eyes, “All things by a law devine/In one another's being mingle -/Why not I with thine?”.”

     He continued until his head was between your thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw that he was already staring back at you. With hot and heavy breaths, he kissed the inside of one of your thighs all the way to your dick, then gave the other thigh the same treatment. 

     “Vergil-” You swallowed apprehensively, “Are you sure that you’re alright to be doing--”

     “I won’t harm you,” he gave you a small smile with half-lidded eyes, “I promise,” his breath was heavy as he brushed his cheek and nose along your bulge, speaking in a quiet needy manner, “Let me taste you, please.”

     Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep up with the sudden mood change; Vergil going from overly dominant to an almost submissive pleading. Before you even answered him, his fingers were within your waistband and were pulling at the fabric, completely exposing you to him. A small moan left your lips as you felt him kiss along the insides of your thighs once more. They were slow sloppy kisses, licking and biting at the sensitive skin. 

     Vergil stared at you for a moment, a smirk of pride tugging at his lips from how you were watching him with bated breath. Very unhurriedly, he ran his tongue down from your tip to your balls. As he ran back up, he split his tongue apart and slid your cock between the two sides. Encouraged by your low groans, he did the same motion back down. 

     Carefully he took your sack into his mouth and began to lightly suck on it. Instinctively, you placed a hand in his hair and grabbed it harshly, making the blue devil moan lowly. As he released you from his mouth, he made sure to stick his tongue out and run it up your seam. 

     Your fingers tightened as you let out a groan and a quiet call of his name. 

     Returning to your shaft, he placed kisses along the underside of your dick upward. Once at the top, he licked at your slit and watched as you squirm at his motions. With a heavy breath, Vergil placed his lips around your cock and gradually took you into his mouth. His hands found purchase on your hips and he pulled you as close to him as possible, the tip of his nose touching your lower abdomen. You fully leaned up, to get a better view of him, and placed both your hands in his hair as he bobbed up and down at a moderate pace.

     “Vergil~ fuck that feels good,” you groaned as he began to move faster at your words. 

     He smirked in response. Although he’d never admit it, he enjoys hearing you say he’s doing good; that he’s the reason you feel good. However, unlike normal, he wasn’t planning on bringing you to your peak; instead, he removed himself from your dick and stood up. The two of you shared a long heated kiss that he used to lean you back down, then he pulled back.

     “Turn over,” his voice was low and gravely, palming himself at the sight before him. 

     With a small nod and smirk, you did as you were asked. You could hear Vergil shuffling around before feeling him rejoin you on the bed with his hands kneading against your ass. Although his motions weren’t particularly aggressive, the pressure he was using was extreme and was going to undoubtedly leave bruises. If you listened very closely, you could hear him purring behind his growling. 

     You let out a small laugh, “You’re quite pent up, huh?”

     He momentarily paused, his hands still gripping you, “You could say that, yes,” before you could respond, you felt him dig his fingers harder into you, “May I?”

     With a smile, you turned over your shoulder to him, “How cordial,” you softly laughed, “Go ahead, I’m all yours Vergil.”

     Once he let go of your butt, Vergil smirked slightly at the sight of you lifting your hips up a bit. He was almost tempted to skip prepping you but he bit his lip; he can’t have you getting hurt, he needs you to be available for him. After lubing up his fingers, he slowly slid the first digit inside. 

     Taking a deep breath, you did your best to relax into his hand. Vergil shifted so he could kiss you while continuing to stretch you. He placed several gentle pecks along your neck and your jaw, a rather loud purr coming from deep within his chest. 

     As he slid a second finger inside you, he heavily laid his head on the crook of your shoulder and began to give the area small heated kisses. You let out a small moan and turned towards him, kissing the top of his head. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him let out a low happy sigh, his lips just barely hovering over your skin. 

     Another stifled moan came from you as he began to curl his fingers and return to kissing your neck, slightly nipping at it as he traveled along your neck and shoulder. 

     Quietly, as if afraid to speak, Vergil whispered between kisses, “I love you, my delicate little Lily.”

     With a soft laugh, you looked at him, “That’s new-- “Lily”..?”

     He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed, “Yes, I thought it appropriate. Do- do you not like it?” 

     “I don’t mind; just curious as to- ngh-” You groaned as you felt Vergil add a third finger.

     “As to what, my love?” A cocky smug smirk tugged at his lips.

     “Why did you th-think,” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, doing your best to hold back a moan, “to use it now?”

     Vergil hummed in thought for a moment, making sure to keep his lips close enough to your skin that you could feel his lips vibrate--sending a shiver through you, “Because you remind me of such…” He removed his fingers and leaned up, “You are so very fragile-- so very breakable; and yet,” a chill ran up your spine as you felt Vergil run his nails from your shoulder blades down to your hips, leaving a minor scratched trail down your body, “you allow me to taint your beauty --to toy with your naive innocent humanity….” 

     His hands rested on your ass momentarily, letting out a low sigh, before fully removing his hands. 

     With a gravelly sensual tone, he continued, “Do you want to know why I want you so badly, Dearest?”

     Hearing him shuffling around slightly, you nodded as a small amount of butterflies began to form in your gut.

     The blue devil laid down over you, getting as close to your ear as possible, “Because you are mine-- my human plaything; do you understand?”

     Against your lower back, you could feel his cock twitching and could feel how unbearably hot his skin had become. You swallowed hard, “I’m not sure I do.”

     Vergil placed his forehead between your shoulder blades. He used one hand to prop himself up and the other was around his dick, stroking it slightly, as he whispered, “You are bound to me; in both heart, soul, and body .”

     Without allowing you to respond, he prodded at your hole with his tip and slowly began to inch his way inside. A loud moan left your lips as you did your best to relax into him; feeling each bit of him that entered your body. 

     “You are my mate,” once fully seated inside you, he returned to your ear, “My one and only,” the blue devil kissed your ear, then gently bit and tugged at it, “for the rest of eternity.”

     He sat back up with hands now placed on both sides of your hips. In response you picked your ass up, creating a downward dog position. 

     It started slow and controlled. He’d only pull out an inch or two and very carefully push himself back in, not wanting to harm you. However, these gentle motions didn’t last very long. Vergil did try his best to control himself; biting his lip, gripping onto you (unintentionally bruising you yet again), et cetera, but it didn’t work. 

     Vergil pulled his dick out, leaving just the very tip of it inside you, and rammed into you. It was hard enough that you jolted forward and let out a moan that was somewhere between pleased and startled. He repeated this motion but picked up the pace with each jab. Soon enough, all that could be heard throughout the house was the sound of his balls hitting your skin and your moans of bliss. Vergil wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and pulled you upwards, bringing you into a kneeling position.

     Now using quick shorter thrusts he wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you flush against his body. A small amount of drool left the corner of your mouth as your vision became blurry, completely engulfed with the feeling of Vergil inside you. Mindlessly, you laid your head against the top of his shoulder which gave him plenty of room to bite and suck at your neck. One of your hands found its way to his hair, grabbing it tightly, and your other was neatly interwoven with a hand from your devilish lover. Your grip tightened on his hand as you moved your hips, doing your best to complement Vergil’s pattern. 

     This pose didn’t last very long. Vergil roughly shoved you back down and stood up, pulling out completely. Before you could question, you felt him harshly yank you over onto your back. Now facing upwards at the disheveled man, you got a proper view of him and you noticed several things that were just ever-so-slightly off. His teeth were much sharper and slightly thicker. A finite amount of scales had appeared on his cheekbones. The glowing icy blue eye color that you’d noticed earlier, was even more apparent and had heavily dilated pupils in the middle that were intensely trained on you. 

     You placed a hand on his cheek, very carefully thumbing over the black-blue scales. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed tightly, and gave your palm a long kiss, momentarily staying with lips pressed against your hand. An unintentional confused 'huh?' left your lips at how hot his breath and mouth were, he was scorching; the hottest you’ve ever felt from him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and leaned back up. 

     The blue devil slid off the bed and pulled you to the edge then put his tip back inside only to slam as hard as possible into your hips. 

     “Fuck~ Vergil,” you arched your back and wrapped your legs around his hips.

     With a smirk, he repeated the action and created a pattern of extremely hard and moderately forceful thrusts that he switched between every four or five thrusts. Vergil looked down at you with a devilish smile, reveling in how undone he made you. Getting an insurmountable amount of arousing pleasure from the sounds of unintelligible gibberish moaning coming from you. The sight of your body being moved by just the force of his jabs. All he wanted to do was feel your insides even more, to reach as far as he could inside and claim every bit of you.

     He grabbed your legs and pulled them up, resting them on his shoulders. The feeling of sinful pride he had only increased as he heard you call his name and saw your hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He slowed his hips for a moment, still maintaining the force of each thrust but trying to prevent himself from making a mistake and Triggering.

     Vergil’s hands slid from your calves to your thighs, firmly kneading against your skin--his fingertips being imprinted into your skin with dark marks. A very distant dark part of him wanted to eat you, to bite your flesh --to mar it up --to cover you with his scent --to make sure you know exactly which devil you belong to. He licked his lips as he let out low heavy breaths from his partially opened mouth. Feeling his peak coming, he looked up at the ceiling as his thrusts became shorter and his pace picked up, moving faster than before.

     Typically, he wouldn’t finish this fast but he couldn’t help himself. All he’s wanted to do for nearly a week is just fill your insides, and he was going to do just that. Vergil shifted slightly, making sure to hit your prostate with each gyration. 

     He let out a loud growling moan, cumming inside you. Only a few moments later did you call out with a sharp moan as you felt an intense orgasm ripping through your body.

     Slowly, Vergil rode out both your orgasms. Gently, he removed your legs from his shoulders and pulled out of your body. You gazed into space for a moment before leaning up slightly to see Vergil, confused as to why he hadn’t said anything.

     You audibly swallowed as you stared at him, “Y-you’re that pent up, huh?”

     Vergil shamefully met your eyes. He was still hard and had scales on several other spots on his body. The thoughts of allowing himself to cut loose, to show you his inner urges without a filter made him both unfathomably terrified and overwhelmingly aroused. This was bad and he knew it, and seeing you so blissfully unaware of the danger you were in only tempted him further.

     “Vergil,” you sat up fully a small grunt leaving your lips at the dull pain from being slammed so hard, “You alright?”

     His lips thinned as he furrowed his brow, avoiding your gaze once more, “I am fine; however, I…” He paused, unable to finish his sentence.

     “We could try it out, you know,” you gave him a meek smile as his eyes flicked to yours.

     He shook his head ‘no’, “I can’t risk hurting you for something so trivial.”

     “This is obviously not ‘trivial’. You never have this issue-- not to mention how different you’ve been acting,” you reached out to grab one of his hands, “What’s wrong, Vergil? You can tell me; I promise I won’t judge or get upset.”

     The blue devil intently watched as you ran your thumb over his knuckles, “Fine…” He moved to sit beside you on the bed, staring straight ahead, “You know what an animal in “rut” means, correct?”

     You nodded, “Yeah,” your eyes thinned as you slowly turned to him, “Vergil, you don’t mean--?”

     “I should’ve told you before we…” he sighed with his shoulders tensing, “Because you and I became intimately involved, I now will go through this every spring,” he looked over to you, momentarily locking with your stare, “and you are the only one that can give me… relief .”

     With a slow nod and deep breath, your eyes flicked between his hard-on and his gaze, “Guess I didn’t provide enough “relief”, huh?”

     He gave you a small smile, “I’m afraid it’s not something that will be able to be soothed with only a round or two or even three, my love.”

     You moved your jaw in thought and stood up. Sighing softly, you moved Vergil’s arms off to his sides and sat on his lap. You placed one hand on his chest and used the other to push a strand of hair out of his eyes, resting the hand on his cheek afterward. A loud purring emanated from his chest, vibrating your fingers, as you stared softly into his icy-blue eyes, “I love you so much Vergil; you know that?”

     The blue devil smiled, “I do,” he leaned closer to you, placing his forehead against yours, speaking in a breathy whisper; his breath ghosting along your lips, “I love you as well; more than words could ever describe.”

     The two of you connected lips and the hand that was on Vergil’s chest slid up to his face; allowing you to cup it between your hands. Vergil took his hands and ran them down your sides and then settled to hold your lower back as he continued to give you sloppy sweet kisses, gently pushing his mouth against you. 

     Cautiously, Vergil bit at your lips to ask for permission to enter your mouth; which you accepted. He let out an unintentional elated moan at the feeling of your tongue with his. His fingertips dug into your skin, pressing and kneading against you in excitement. With a lustful aggressiveness, Vergil pushed you onto your back--down onto the floor of the bedroom. 

     Making sure to maintain the kiss, Vergil shifted the both of you around so he could line himself up with your hole. Slowly, he slid back inside and devoured each of the divine noises that you made in response. That thought made him growl slightly; he wants to defile you over and over, to hold you for as long as you will allow him to. 

     Only once he was fully within you did he break off the kiss and allow you to take a deep breath. He held himself up with his arms, looking down at your breathless form. A prideful smug smile tugged at his lips as he began to move slightly, grinding himself into you. It didn't take long for him to reach a moderate pace. You reached up and ran your hands along his body, feeling each divot, each curve, each soft and hard surface; taking notes to yourself as if you hadn’t ever been allowed to touch him before. His heart was pounding so fast that you could feel it no matter where your hands were.  

     The blue devil’s mind was reeling. He was so engrossed in how good you feel that he hadn’t noticed how hard he was slamming into you, pushing you along the floor with each pass of his hips. His growling had returned, albeit tenfold louder and a great deal more animalistic; completely replacing his moans. 

     Although you know Vergil has issues with you touching his back, you were too immersed in the moment and wrapped your arms around him. One of your hands found its way to the back of Vergil’s head, threading your fingers tightly into his hair. You did your best to try and wrap your legs around him too; hoping to prevent him from shoving you along the floor any further. 

     He did stop for a moment, only to take the opportunity to pick you up and slam you against one of the walls of the room; knocking several things from their hanging spots. A sharp moan left your lips as you felt his nails aggressively dig into the sides of your thighs. Vergil placed his mouth at the crook of your shoulder and nipped at the skin, leaving various marks. 

     You let out a slight hiss as he got a little too close to one of the deeper marks from earlier; in a way to seemingly apologize, he gently licked at your neck. He then leaned back and looked at you for a moment, letting out a set of shaky breaths. Vergil connected lips with you as you slid both hands into his hair; grabbing fistfuls of the silky white strands. His kisses were aggressive, pushing your head against the wall. Your body tensed, legs tightening around him, you were getting close--and so was he. 

     Quick jack-rabbit thrusts replaced his previous tempo. His wandering grip continued as he slammed your hips down into his, moving your body in a harsh rhythm with his. The two of you parted lips allowing you to throw your head back--at least the best you could being against a wall--and Vergil placed kisses on your windpipe. 

     The blue devil placed his head on your shoulder as he focused on fucking you. It didn’t take long for him to reach nirvana, spilling himself inside you with a low sustained frustrated growl. You reached your peak as well; cumming with a low grunt and gentle groan of Vergil’s name. 

     He ground against you and let out gentle shuddering breaths against your neck, giving you slight goosebumps. Without removing himself, he carried you back over to the bed and laid you down. Propped upwards using his hands, he stared down at you. Vergil was breathing heavily with a hung-open mouth and had a layer of sweat on his brow. More scales had appeared and his stare was oddly blank, as if he were lost in deep thought. You watched as he used his tongue to play with one of his canines and his brow twitched into a slightly agitated state. 

     “Vergil?” You weakly grabbed one of his biceps, giving it a light squeeze, “Is everything okay?”

     A set of quick blinks brought his eyes back into focus, accompanied by a shake of his head, “Yes, I am alright--sorry.”

     After a pause, he leaned up and gradually removed himself. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling and you stared up at the ceiling for a moment before tilting up to look at the blue devil. 

     “Oh…” You gave him a dumbfounded stare. He was still hard, cock twitching at your surprise.

     Once you looked up at Vergil’s face, you saw that he had crossed his arms with one hand over his face; mortified and ashamed of what was happening. 

     With an awkward laugh, you took a deep breath, “So, how many rounds do you need, again?”

     Vergil’s eyes slowly met with yours as he shook his head, whispering, “I’m… unsure.”

     You scrunched your mouth to the side, “What about trying to use your “Trigger”? You seem even worse off than earlier, Vergil.”

     He removed his hand from his face and shot you a stern glance, “No, I can’t risk hurting you--”

     “Vergil, if you keep this up, you will hurt me,” you grunted in slight pain as you sat up fully, “I can only take so much,” you laughed slightly, placing a hand on the back of your neck, “Especially with how rough you’re being.”

     The blue devil thought for a moment, his tongue playing with his teeth. A part of him knew you were right, that if this continued there was a very high chance he would hurt you, and he really loved the idea of allowing himself to let go--to show you what he could really do. Still, the sheer amount of uncontrollable possibilities kept him hesitant. 

     What if you don’t like it and he’s too far gone to stop?

     What if he manhandles you too hard and breaks something--either something in the room or, more importantly, you? 

     What if he hit you against the wall or floor too hard and hurt you? 

     What if he bit you and couldn’t stop himself from sinking his teeth in too far?

      What if you died because of him and his stupid demonic instincts?

     “Vergil..?” 

     He flinched at your sudden closeness. You’d gotten up and were standing in front of him, concerned that he was standing silently for so long. With one hand on his bicep and the other cupping his face, you made small circles with your thumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards you, placing his forehead against yours.

     The two of you shared a very sweet and emotionally soft kiss, drawing it out for quite some time. 

     With lips just above his, you quietly pleaded, “You can do whatever you need to, Vergil; it’ll be okay.”

     Vergil swallowed hard. With one final squeeze of his arm, you let go of him. His eyes flicked all over your body as he gave it one final thought. Taking a deep breath, he nodded; he had to try it. 

     All he could hear was the loud pounding of his heart as he allowed himself to Trigger. Soft cornflower blue light filled the space. You smiled at the sight before you. It wasn’t very often you got to see Vergil use either of his Devil Triggers; his normal Trigger being a much rarer sight.

     Under his breath, he let out a soft chuckle at your doting stare. Although he’s never told you, he finds it amusing that you’re so enamored with his devilish forms. He unfurled his wings from his sides and mindlessly stretched them outwards before bringing them back in close to his body. Pride pricked at his heart as he saw your expression of such a trivial act.

     Cautiously, you approached him and reached out to touch his chest. This was the first time Vergil had allowed you to be anywhere near him while in a non-human state. His scales were hot to the touch, but not painfully more along the lines of freshly dried linen or hot asphalt. Through your fingers, you could feel a low rumble coming from within his chest.

     With a slight shake, Vergil placed a hand over yours and locked eyes with you. Uneven breaths left his lips as he waited for you to say something-- anything. 

     You smiled softly and inched closer, placing your head on his chest, “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

     A noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh left his nose, “That’s not what one should say when face-to-face with a devil.” Vergil wrapped his arms loosely around you. 

     “I’m not just face-to-face with “ a devil”,” you smiled wider and looked up at him, “I’m face-to-face with m-my…” you stumbled over your words as an embarrassed shade spread across your face, your confidence quickly dissipating.

     “Your what?” He tilted his head in curiosity, wanting nothing more than to hear you say it.

     With a voice no louder than a whisper you looked away from his eyes, “with my mate.”

     He stared with parted lips before giving a small smile, “How strange to hear you say that,” Vergil leaned down to you, whispering, “Are you sure this is alright?”

     Without answering, you connected your lips to his. Your hands slid up to the base of his neck on either side, gently scraping your nails on his scales as you went along. His arms tightened to pull you closer, placing one at the small of your back and the other on your ass. Slow careful kisses turned to sloppy impassioned French kisses. Vergil's tongue desperately felt the inside of your mouth, now being able to reach even further inside. You let out a surprised grunt at the feeling but were quickly distracted by a harsh groping motion against your ass. 

     Once you broke apart, the two of you stood staring at one another. Curious as to what he’d do, you ran your hands slowly down his torso. The heat coming from his body was unbelievable but his lower abdomen was tenfold worse. Distantly you found yourself worried if his cock would be too hot for your body to take in. As your fingers worked their way down, you took note of the texture changes between his chest, stomach, and the bright blue V that pointed to where you were headed. 

     Gently, you rubbed your fingertips up and down the glowing area, earning a stifled groan from Vergil. Curiously enough, you were expecting the area to feel akin to the rest of his scales--hard and rough--but were greeted by a warm velvety silk feeling. As you kneaded against him, he pulled you into another set of passionate kisses. The hand from your lower back traveled up your spine and braced the back of your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible. 

     Mindlessly, he leaned forward and dipped you back slightly. He broke from your mouth and kissed the corner of your mouth. Bit by bit, he kissed along your jawline, to your neck, and finally your throat. All the while, your fingers continued to their original destination. Carefully, you teased the area around his still-hidden cock and lightly ran your middle finger along his slit. Vergil’s breath hitched and he stopped his kisses, his breath washing over your skin. 

     A sultry smirk tugged at your mouth as you felt his tip begin to emerge. Vergil’s wings uncontrollably flexed outwards at the odd feeling, much to the blue devil’s surprise--and slight dismay. He’d never thought about trying anything even remotely sexual while like this, so the feeling of your fingers kneading against him made him feel as if he were a virgin again; feeling overwhelmed by nothing but the slightest of your touches. 

     You slowly ran his tip between your fore and middle fingers, feeling pre-cum dripping onto your digits. His cock was pleasantly warmer than normal, eliciting a small groan from you as you thought about him being inside you. The cum that decorated your fingers was also hotter than normal and seemed to be much thicker. The blue devil took a deep breath and shifted slightly, his wings curling around the two of you. In an almost painfully slow motion, Vergil ran his tongue along your neck, small papillae scrapping the sensitive area. He let out a shaky breath as you stroked along the sheath where his cock was, making his cock appear much faster than intended. 

     Before you managed to have him fully out, Vergil picked you up and placed you onto the mattress. He placed both his hands beside either side of your head, still standing, and his wings outstretched behind him. You stared up at him as a small shiver ran up your spine at the sight. Vergil’s eyes were dilated heavily and were fixated on yours. A part of you knows you should be afraid or at least apprehensive about what is happening, but you couldn’t be bothered; you were much too invested in the moment. 

     A wicked grin adorned his face, teeth on full display,  “You really want me, don’t you?”

     “And if I do?”

     “Hmph,” the blue devil leaned back up and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. 

     With slow long pumps, he touched himself to the sight of you. However, when you tried to lean up to see, he quickly pushed you flat. 

     “Did I tell you to move?” His voice was utterly layered with an overwhelming dominance.

     Your gut churned and twisted as you waited with bated breath for him to ram your body, except, the blue devil knew he had to be careful with you. Although it was seen as a dominating move, Vergil laying you back was done to keep you calm. If you’d seen him fully erect, you would’ve tensed up tenfold worse and this would’ve been much more difficult than it already will be. 

     He grabbed the lube from the nearby table and coated his cock. Whatever excess was on his hand, he very carefully put it at your entrance--making sure his claws didn’t knick you. After a small debate, he dragged you a bit closer and put your ankles on his shoulders, aligning himself with your hole. 

     “Relax,” he placed a hand on your stomach, skin dipping down slightly from the tips of his claws, “Just focus on your breathing.”

     You pursed your lips and stared mindlessly at the ceiling, doing just as he said and taking deep calm breaths, trying to keep yourself from tensing. 

     Vergil pushed his tip in, earning a gasp and deep grunting moan from you. Bit by bit, he continued to push inside, doing his best to fight the urge to slam against you. You were gripping the bed, pulling on the already decimated sheets. The size of Vergil’s cock normally is something that would make most men green with envy but the size he was working with now was nothing short of “porn star” material. 

     His hand that was on your gut slid up to your chest as he leaned down into you, causing him to push inside quicker than intended. Doing his best to not cut you with his claws, Vergil groped at your pecs and lightly kneaded against you. Low in his chest, he was emitting a purr that was intense enough that you could feel it through his hand. 

     After what seemed like an eternity, he was fully seated within you. Heavy deep lust laden breaths left your agape lips as the blue devil closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your innards snuggly squeezing around him. Vergil could feel your rapid heartbeat and could practically taste your arousal; being able to smell human pheromones just like a human can a fresh baked bread, sometimes being strong enough to give a taste to the air. It made his body ache, giving him a strong sense of pride to know that you were just as madly into him as he is you.

     You placed a hand atop the charcoal-grey scaled hand on your chest, “Vergil…”

     The two of you locked eyes and Vergil leaned down to you. Gently, he kissed you. It was a physical manifestation of a promise; a promise that he will take good care of you.     The black and blue scaled devil tilted back upright, his fingers lightly clawing up your middle sliding to rest on each side of your hips. With slow careful--almost fearful--motion, he began to test what you thought of his devilish body. A string of low groans left your lips as you closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock. Your chest was moving in an almost exaggerated manner as Vergil slowly ramped things up. The unhurried nature of his movements allowed you to feel each rib of his cock, feeling every time one would leave and re-enter your aching hole. 

     In an elongated teasing manner, Vergil removed himself out to his tip and pushed back in--making sure you felt every bit of him and savored him. He closed his eyes, doing his best to keep a level head as he intently listened to the breathy moans leaving your lips. 

     Once more, he removed himself out to the tip; this time, however, he slammed back inside. A sharp mixed noise of a grunt, moan, and gasp came from you. His eyes opened as he repeated the action; making sure to remove himself slower than before and return twice as hard. 

     Your back arched at his actions, eyes focused on the ceiling above you. When you looked back at Vergil, his eyes were trained on yours with an unplaceable emotion hidden behind his gaze. His emotion became clear when he harshly pulled out and slammed his hips against you; no longer feeling the need to hold back. 

     With each thrust, you were pushed up on the bed and his hands would yank you back down to meet the brutal bucking of his hips. All that could be heard was the sound of his hips hitting yours and the wet squelching from the previous rounds and copious amounts of lube in your ass. Concentrating on your expression, Vergil failed to notice that his claws had sunk into your skin which anchored his grip into you. Leaning down, he placed his face in the crook of your shoulder; kissing you carefully. 

     After a moment, he leaned back up slightly to place his nose beside yours. You placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over the leathery skin. Your pinkie mindlessly ran along the silver spikes that formed a beard of sorts at his jawline, curious as to what it felt like. He leaned into your touch and, despite him still jackhammering away, he felt a warm sweet feeling at your overly gentle treatment of him. 

     “Grab onto me,” Vergil whispered, his voice thick with lust and uncharacteristically gruff. 

     You did as he asked, wrapping your hands around the backside of his neck. Vergil picked you up and wrapped his wings around you, pushing you tightly against him. A small hiss slipped through your lips at the feeling of your dick rubbing against Vergil’s torso. It didn’t hurt per se but it was extremely overwhelming. Your nails dug into his scales, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

     Seeming to notice your distress, the blue devil began to lightly lick and nip at your neck and throat. He took a long deep inhale of your scent, pressing his chest against yours, desiring to get closer to you than possible. As he exhaled, you felt his hot breath wash over you and tickle at your skin causing you to let out a restrained laugh. 

     With a hum, Vergil slowed slightly and took a moment to enjoy the closeness of your bodies. The feeling of your soft human skin against his scales made his gut twist. A distant hidden part of him felt an odd arousal from the idea of how fragile you were--how he could crush you instantly if he wanted; completely contradicting his main anxious mindset.

     Moving your hand to his chest, you pushed him away, confusing Vergil for a moment, before you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. Lazy sloppy kisses caused him to let out a small moan, which intensified at the feeling of you repeatedly biting at his lower lip. His thrusts switched to a moderate pace as his fingertips kneaded against you. As you pulled away, he let out a disappointed huff, which was quickly replaced with a dark low gravely moan. 

     Despite not being able to break his hide, you leaned down and bit his neck; at a somewhat odd angle because of the horns that wrapped around to the front of his head. It is rare for Vergil to allow you to bite him, however, feeling you claim him--just as he did you--made his body ache. After a moment, you stopped and placed a soft kiss against him. You repeated the action on the other side of his neck, Once done, you trailed kisses along his neck to his throat and placed an elongated kiss against his Adam’s apple. Vergil let out a small grunt at the feeling and, when you tilted back, you were met with heavy half-lidded eyes. 

     The blue devil nudged you to expose your neck and placed his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing heavily, “I love you.”

     Without allowing you to respond, he pushed your hips downwards and fucked into you as quickly as possible. A loud groan left your lips at the inhuman speed of Vergil’s cock and you grasped at whatever you could, causing Vergil to let out a surprised huffed moan at your unexpectedly rough touches. His claws left the new loving craters in your thighs and slid to your ass, pulling you apart. 

     Before you could question, your eyes went wide. The blue devil pushed his knot inside you, somewhat forcefully, as he let out a thunderous semi-whiney shaky moan. Once buried into you, his hands returned to your hips and his claws to the same holes as before. 

     You let out a whimpering moan as you hit another peak, feeling his cum gush inside you. He hadn’t disclosed anything about a knot or that he was going to use it inside you, but you weren’t complaining. It felt as if he’d been pent up for a year with how quickly and how much was being released. 

     It was both a painful and heavenly experience.

     All the while, Vergil could only continue to repeat your name and whisper how much he loves you; almost as if he were begging for you to say it back, as if you weren’t already committed to him. With a soft kiss against his horn closest to your mouth, you whispered, “I love you,” which caused him to grind against you, attempting to further spear you than he had already.

     Unsure what to do now you were stuck together, Vergil laid you back down and laid atop you. His wings were stretched out flat and his forearms were wrapped around your torso, across your shoulder blades. With his face directly down onto your chest, his eyes fluttered shut and he purred loudly. Although you wanted nothing to do but lie still, curiosity got the better of you, and you ran a hand along his horns which made him purr tenfold louder. 

     Admittedly, Vergil wanted to stay as you were, interlocked and him pinning you down; but he also wanted to patch you up. You could feel how fast his heart was beating; whether it was from fucking, cumming, or nerves was anyone’s guess. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to his breathing and purring. The two of you stayed interwoven for nearly ten minutes, Vergil shifting several times in an attempt to remove himself. 

     Finally, he stopped twitching. He stood back up and carefully slid out which was accompanied by an audible pop and your hips quivering. Vergil’s chest heaved as he de-triggered. Beyond tired, he returned to the same position as before and laid against your chest.

     “Vergil?” Your voice was raspy and very overtly worn out.

     Without moving, he spoke against your skin, “Yes, my love?”

     You placed a hand in his hair, running your fingers through the utterly disheveled white strands, “How do you feel?”

     He quietly laughed, “I am calm, for now; if that is what you are asking.”

     With a heavy exhale you hummed a sound of relief.

     “How are you feeling?”

     “Want me to be honest?”

     “Mhm.”

     “Like I was just in a category five hurricane.”

     “I’m sorry,” he placed a kiss against your breastbone, “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

     Lightly, you ran your fingers down his neck to his shoulder blades, sliding up his arm, “Help me get into the bath?”

     Vergil smiled, “Of course, my dear,” he shifted upwards and placed a kiss against your lips, “Anything for my mate.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Originally I had planned to also have Sin Trigger sex in this but I thought that would be a bit too much to digest from one story; plus “Bed of the Blue Devil” is entirely based on that aspect.  Also between the teaser from yesterday (early this morning) and now; I found out that I have the ‘rona so… Life is really great--it’s just one thing after another, I finally wanna write and do stuff but now I’m exhausted and feel like someone beat my skull in with a sledgehammer  🦢💧🦢 Poem Quoted: “Love’s Philosophy” Percy Bysshe Shelley

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 3: Massage

Swiss's shoulder flares up after his fall. Mountain takes care of him.

Shoutout to @forlorn-crows for putting this all together <3

(pspspspsps @hypnoneghoul i offer swissalps)

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Swiss does his best to hide, keep his smiley front up in front of his pack, but Mountain's always been good at seeing right through him. Has been since Swiss first crawled out of the summoning portal, bruised and beaten to shit, refusing to admit that it was because he had forced himself, a multi-ghoul, through a portal meant for a fire ghoul.

Mountain knows what Swiss looks like when he's in pain, and he looks like it now. His smile is a little too wide, edges just a little too close to a grimace. He's favoring his left arm, wincing as he stretches up with Aeon's hand in his for bows.

He follows the multi-ghoul offstage and tries to subtly corral him to the side. Swiss's entire body is tense, and he turns to look up at Mountain.

"I know what you're gonna say, maple. 'M fine," he says, his glamour slipping, too many teeth in his mouth, each too sharp.

Mountain sighs, shakes his head. "Edelweiss. You can't lie to me."

If it were unglamoured, Mountain knows that Swiss's tail would be lashing back and forth. They stare at each other, locked at a standstill, Swiss's posture tense and radiating pain, Mountain straightening to his full height. Mountain wants to get out of his sweat soaked uniform, wants to help his mate, and if he has to pull pack rank to get Swiss to accept help, then so be it.

He doesn't have to. After a moment of intense eye contact, Swiss's posture buckles and he takes a shaky breath. "Hurts, Mount," he says, almost under his breath, but Mountain can hear it clear as day.

"Do you want me to get Aeon?" he asks, reaching for Swiss's arm.

He shrugs, wincing as he pulls his left shoulder up. "No, don't bring them into this."

Mountain nods reluctantly, resting one of his big hands over Swiss's shoulderblade, feels the heat radiating off of it. "Shit, Swiss," he hums. "You're rooming with me tonight. We'll see if we can't get you feeling better, edelweiss."

Swiss nods, letting his head fall forward until the plastic helmet is pressed to Mountain's shoulder. "Thank you," he breathes.

Mountain kisses the crown of his head, and they filter off to the green room.

It's a bit of a blur from there until they're settled in a hotel room that looks the same as all the other hotel rooms Mountain's ever been in. He sets his and Swiss's bags down (he had refused to let the multi-ghoul carry his own, worried he'd just aggravate his shoulder more) on one of the queen beds and gestures to the ensuite bathroom.

"Take as long a shower as you need," he says, helping Swiss pull his hoodie off over his head. "As hot as you can handle, see if the heat can't get your shoulder to relax a bit."

Swiss hums, swaying on his feet. "Hot shower sounds good. Might just put me to sleep, if my shoulder knocks it off."

"And if you get relaxed enough to sleep, I'll count that as a win." Mountain punctuates his sentence with a kiss to Swiss's temple, the barest brush of lips on still-sweaty skin.

Swiss nods, grabbing a pair of sweats before disappearing into the bathroom. "Will you come if I call you?" he asks, voice muffled by the door.

"It isn't even a question," Mountain says, busying himself with digging through his bag. The shower kicks on, and not long after that, he can see steam spilling out from under the crack in the door, a loud groan of relief as Swiss steps under the spray.

Mountain hums triumphantly as he finds what he's looking for, a little oval tin that he sets on the nightstand between the beds. He pulls the covers back on one of the beds, sits on the edge and waits for Swiss to either call for him or come out of the shower.

It turns out to be the latter, Swiss stepping out of the bathroom, braids tied back, his travel clothes in hand. They're quickly tossed on the spare bed, and his eyes lock on Mountain. "Shower helped some. How'd you want me?"

Mountain scoots back and pats the mattress between his spread thighs. "Have a seat."

"You make it sound so ominous," Swiss laughs half heartedly, sitting between Mountain's legs. Mountain reaches around him for the tin, opening it and taking out the lotion bar. He rubs it between his hands, his body heat melting the oils.

"I won't let anything happen, you know that," Mountain says. "Left side, right?"

Swiss sighs. "Yep. There."

Mountain leans forward, presses a kiss to the back of Swiss's neck. "It's alright. I've got you." He curls his hands gently over both of Swiss's shoulders, gently digging his thumbs in on either side of his spine. The multi-ghoul groans as he rubs little circles, head drooping a little. "There we go."

He moves his hands down after a while, knows that Swiss's shoulder flares up fairly regularly after his spill a few autumns ago. He knows where it hurts. He gently targets the area, rubbing the lotion bar into Swiss's skin, feels the muscles starting to relax under his touch.

"Fuck," Swiss groans, head drooping until his chin touches his chest.

"Yeah, baby?" Mountain asks, laughing warmly. "Feelin' good?"

Swiss nods weakly, long eyelashes pressed against his dark cheeks. "A lot better."

"That's good to hear, edelweiss." He leans forward, still rubbing Swiss's back and shoulders, to press a kiss behind his ear. It flicks, bapping Mountain on the nose.

They sit in silence, Mountain coaxing each muscle in Swiss's shoulders to ease up on the tension, to relax, and Swiss gets more and more boneless with every passing moment.

Mountain reaches around to prop Swiss up and keep him from collapsing forward off of the bed. "Hey, edelweiss, sweetheart, are you feeling good enough to lay down?"

Swiss nods, a little dopey. "Yeah," he yawns, stumbling a little as they both stand. Mountain helps him lay down onto his front, face smooshed into the pillows. "Thank you, maple."

"Anything for you, love. I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I know," he says, voice slurring as all of the post-show exhaustion seems to hit him like a bus. "I don't like you seeing me hurt."

Mountain chuckles, running a hand up and down the slight protrusion of Swiss's spine. "Oh, I know. You haven't since the day I met you."

Swiss laughs, an exhale of breath, eyes half lidded. "You can go shower, if you want. I'm fine like this."

"I know, but I'm not going anywhere, edelweiss. I showered at the venue." He lays down, still moving his hand up and down, up and down.

Swiss turns his head, a golden eye peeking out. "Thank you, Mounty. Love you," he says, but it's barely more than a whisper, sleep starting to take him.

"I love you too." Mountain reaches over him and turns out the light.

[risingmoonyue]

Someone write me a ShinRan fic that reads like a stereotypical shojo. Whether this takes place in canon or an au is optional. The only requirement is that Shinichi is cast where there is usually a girl, and Ran where a guy is.

[stobinesque]

@steddie-week day 2: fluff | 1.8k words | teen and up

The door to the apartment slammed shut, followed by the jingle-clang of keys landing in the ceramic bowl Robin had made for Steve two years ago.  

"Babe?" Steve looked up from the magazine he'd been flipping through and frowned at the stormy expression on Eddie's face. 

Eddie barely acknowledged him, just swept past with stomping feet, dropping an absentminded kiss to the top of Steve's head as he made his way into the bedroom. A few moments later Steve heard the telltale thunk and flop of Eddie's bag hitting the ground and the man himself hitting their bed.

Ah, so one of those days.

Steve set down his magazine, folded his reading glasses neatly atop it, and pushed himself up from the couch to make for the bathroom.

~*~*~*~

Eddie wanted to die. Nope, no, he wanted to commit a homicide. 

Actually, scratch that, being wanted for murder sucked.

What he wanted was for the world not to be full of a bunch of entitled little shitsacks who had never been taught how to talk to another human being who didn't have a white collar around their neck.

At least his bed was there to support him. The mattress was a little lumpy, sure, but nothing could outmatch the satisfaction of dramatically flinging oneself onto a flat surface after a shity day at work. 

The sound of running bath water filtered into Eddie's awareness. 

Okay, maybe one thing.

Steve usually allowed him a few minutes to sulk and brood when he got home feeling like shit. Sometimes interacting with any human (even someone he would literally—and nearly did—die for) was just too much. 

"Eds?"

"Mmph." Eddie spit some of the hair that had landed in his mouth out, but didn't bother to raise his head more than half an inch off the bed to do so.

Steve chuckled. "Okay, five more minutes—otherwise the water will get too cold. I'm gonna go make us some tea."

Eddie raised an arm and waved vaguely in the direction of Steve's voice in acknowledgement.

He let himself drift for his five minutes to the sound of Steve puttering around the kitchen—grabbing mugs, teabags, the sugar jar—before peeling himself up off the bed when the shrill whistle of the kettle pierced through the relative silence of the apartment. If he wasn't in the bath by the time Steve made it there he'd be in trouble. Which could be fun, but it wasn't what he was in the mood for today. 

Eddie stripped off his—itchy, sweaty, suffocating—uniform as he padded over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he went.

~*~*~*~

Steve waltzed back into the bathroom with two steaming mugs in his hand to find Eddie already situated in the tub, knees pulled up under his chin, hair piled up in a messy bun, and one hand dragging lazily across the surface of the water. 

Steve set both mugs down on the ground next to the bath. "Hey, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.

"Hi." Eddie's voice was low and subdued.

“Bad day?” Steve asked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Eddie shrugged. “You could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve shucked off his jeans.

Eddie shook his head. “Not much to talk about.”

“Okay.” Steve folded his clothes, set them in a neat stack atop the closed toilet lid, and carefully lowered himself into the bath behind Eddie.

The water was just a touch too hot for his own comfort, but Eddie ran cold and preferred his baths on the scalding warmer side. (Shared showers were a trial. Eddie insisted that Steve was trying to murder him with frostbite. Steve maintained that Eddie was trying to boil the both of them alive.)

Some of the tension had already bled out just from being in the bath. Eddie’s shoulders were no longer curled up around his ears—instead, he was slouched forward into the water. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and pressed a kiss to the patchy birthmark high up on his back, smiling when Eddie responded with a humming little sigh. “Wash my hair?” he asked.

“Sure thing, Eds.”

Steve reached over to grab the shampoo and tiny bucket they left in the shower just for this. “Wanna drink some of your tea before I douse you?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, but reached out blindly to grab one of the steaming mugs next to the tub. Steve didn’t bother holding back a snort that he’d managed to grab the “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Crabby” mug they’d nicked from Wayne. 

Eddie took a slow sip of the tea, and the second he’d set it back down and straightened back up, Steve dumped a bucket of warm water over his head.

Eddie spluttered. “Babe, what the fuck!”

Steve snickered from behind him. “Just wanted to make sure you were here on earth with me, bedhead.”

Eddie shook his head like a rain-soaked dog. “You could have at least taken out the ponytail first!”

“I suppose I could have,” Steve said, lips twitching up into a smile as he reached up to start pulling Eddie’s dark curls from where they’d gotten tangled in the hair tie. “I got you talking again in something other than a monotone, though.”

“Maybe I was enjoying playing the dark, broody hero.”

Steve pinched Eddie’s side, which resulted in a high-pitched squeak, and a wild flail that had water splashing up around them. "Behave," Steve chastised—though the warning was undercut by the laugh of unconcealed delight he barked out as Eddie’s arms swung around him. 

"You're the one assaulting me in my time of suffering!"

"Suck it up, buttercup,” Steve shot back, combing his fingers through wet curls and gently detangling each and every knot he ran into. He couldn't help but rub the silky-soft strands between his fingers as he went. Steve's own day had been slow and uneventful, but a quiet sort of unease had been hovering at the edges for hours. Drawing Eddie a bath and settling in behind him to wash his hair helped settle Steve back into his body just as much as it did for Eddie. 

Steve began working shampoo into Eddie's roots, massaging his fingers into his scalp, and Eddie's head tipped back as he let out a pleased hum that sounded almost like a purr. "Love your fingers in my hair, Stevie," he mumbled, sounding a bit hazy.

"Yeah? Is that the only place you like my fingers?" Steve asked, right into Eddie's ear. 

Eddie scrambled back upright and turned to face Steve with an alarmed expression on his face. "No! Why would you think that? Did I say something to make you think that? Please, I’m so sorry, baby. Please know that I love your fingers anywhere on me. Or in me. What if they went somewhere else right now?" 

Steve laughed, grabbing Eddie's shoulder to turn him back around with one hand, and dipping the bucket back into the water to rinse the suds out of Eddie's hair with the other. When Steve was sure he'd thoroughly rinsed Eddie's hair he leaned past him to grab the conditioner and whisper in his ear, "You can get them somewhere else a little later if you're good for me, baby," before leaning back and clicking the bottle open.

"I'll be so good for you, Stevie. Just tell me what I gotta do."

"Keep still and don't sass me for the next five minutes."

Eddie's mouth opened and then immediately snapped back shut as he clearly decided that whatever his response to that was gonna be probably qualified as "sass."

"Good boy," Steve said simply, dropping another kiss to Eddie's back. 

"I can be good when I wanna be," Eddie grumbled. 

"Careful," Steve shot back, gently chiding. He methodically worked the conditioner through Eddie's hair in sections, tugging gently as he did, just for the soft satisfaction that ran through him every time Eddie let out a soft gasp in response to it. 

"Always careful, Stevie," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fluttering shut. 

Steve reached down to brush one hand over the scars running down Eddie's side. "Not always," he whispered, just a little sadly, as he pressed a firm kiss to the mostly-faded ring of scars at his throat. 

"Mm, don't be sad, baby."

"Not sad. Just glad you're alive."

Eddie was quiet for a stretch, and Steve chuckled. 

"What? What were you gonna say, asshole?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, love," Eddie replied, all faux innocence.

"You were gonna say something sassy just then, that's why you went all quiet. So, out with it, come on. How were you gonna sass me in response to me saying I'm glad you're alive?"

"Promise you won't hold it against me?"

"Yeah, baby." Steve leaned over to press a kiss to Eddie’s nose. "This one's a freebie."

Eddie looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, and a twinkle in his eye. "I was gonna call you a sap."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh, well, fuck me for being happy my boyfriend's alive I guess."

"I was actually hoping that you would fuck me," Eddie replied. 

"You're pushing your luck, Eds," Steve warned, yanking lightly at his hair. 

"Sorry, baby."

Steve ran his hands up and down the sides of Eddie's arms. "All forgiven, Eds." 

Steve let his hands drift as he waited for the conditioner to rest—digging his fingers into the dense coils of muscle in Eddie's neck, smoothing his palms down the ridges of Eddie's spine, ghosting his hands up Eddie's sides. When time was up, he grabbed the bucket, turned on the tap to fill it with clean, warm water, and spilled it over Eddie’s head. Steve combed his fingers through the chestnut locks again, making sure he’d thoroughly rinsed them once more. The two of them fell still and silent, like two little stones in the river bed. 

Steve loved this. The quiet trance they fell into, as Eddie relaxed into the water, and Steve pressed kisses into his lover’s skin, and they both forgot the mugs of tea that Steve made. 

Steve separated Eddie’s hair into even sections, savoring the feeling of freshly cleaned locks passing through his fingers as he wove the strands together—over-under, over-under, over-under—and plaited Eddie’s hair down the length of his back. When he was done, he flipped the end of the braid back over Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie leaned further into him, pressing the length of his back against Steve’s chest.

Steve let his hands start wandering, and Eddie let out a soft gasp of surprise when the pads of Steve's thumbs brushed over both nipples. "Steve."

"Shh, I got you baby," Steve murmured, and let one hand drop down to where Eddie was stiffening up beneath the water.

"I know you do, Stevie," Eddie whispered back on a sigh and a gasp. "I know you do."

[valehour]

been idly discussing this with a friend, and generally just kind of ruminating on the DLC's final boss and end story and how mad it made me. so consider this significant rewrite to make the story more like I think I now want it to be because my opinions are obviously important """fix""" to the story.

What if the Miquella's lord was just- the player character, not Radahn?

(Full (and Extremely Long) justification under the cutoff)

this is born from my previous thought/rant on the fact that the player isn't given a motivation to actually oppose Miquella within the game itself.

By contrast, the player being the potential Consort of Miquella necessarily helps solidify the conflict around Miquella's Age of Compassion, and the player's place in it.

the Fundamental nature of Miquella in this DLC is that, ultimately, Miquella's love is amoral, stretching the full range from compassion to overtly abusive manipulation. one of the most evocative descriptors of Miquella's love is that it is "Terrifying". That feels like it's a fundamentally punchy, heavy thing for the player to wrestle with. The Age of Compassion is something that the War-torn Lands Between so clearly needs, it needs peace, and love, a more gentle place to cope with the trauma and the suffering and the Ruin, not merely from the Shattering, but the world that preceded it. but it's being created and enforced by a "terrifying", manipulative Cult leader (for want of a better term) who's channeling a very "All Shall Love Me And Despair!" energy.

There's a familiar throughline created by this- the player (both as the Tarnished, and as the Player has a particular impression and idea of Miquella, one who ultimately promises and provides salvation. As we advance through the story of the DLC, we increasingly learn the truth behind what that means- who Miquella is and the full extents of the implications presented.

The biggest moment in regards to this, is, of course, the Approach and descent into the Fissure, and the one of the most important parts of the story.

"I abandon here my doubt and vacilation"

"I abandon here my love"

"Kindly Miquella. I see you've thrown away... Something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation Offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self?"

Miquella's pursuit of godhood has excised St Trina, who appears to have fundamentally dissented Miquella's deification, as it's her, delivered through sleep, who tells us that we shouldn't side with him, but kill him, instead.

This Feels spiritually adjacent to something like encountering Darkstalker Kaathe for the first time, and hearing his side of the story, an argument for The Age of Dark. but, as far as I can tell, this doesn't actually matter. Knowing that St Trina values preventing Miquella's Age of Compassion means nothing in the game, it's just an explanation as to why she was ditched halfway across the realm of shadow in a pit . But the argument St Trina raises, the doubting of Miquella's agenda means nothing because the final confrontation with Miquella is not born from the player's decision to reject the Age of Compassion, it's born from someone on the Fromsoft Dev team needing to put a final bossfight into the DLC.

it's this that forms the main Issue with the ending. The Player is forced into a passive role- the story happens To them, not Because Of them. the "choice" given by the game mechanics is to "Fight Radahn", or quit the DLC. but while the second one is technically a valid resolution to not opposing the Age of Compassion. It really isn't in any practical metrics because, well, That's not actually narrative resolution- putting a book down halfway through does technically end the story, but it doesn't resolve any of the plot threads or conflicts that the audience is expected to engage with- it stops abruptly and unsatisfyingly, told that we're not supposed to care about those plot details- Literally just the "it was all a dream" ending, but punching through the fourth wall. Simply Stopping Engaging with it isn't narratively satisfying for any work who's resolution isn't designed around the idea of putting the story down. and SOTE quite unambiguously isn't designed around that. So even if we view it as "an" ending, it's still fundamentally a bad ending.

but fighting Radahn is also narratively unsatisfying as an ending simply because of the fact that it's DLC- there was no space or time to establish or set up this plot thread or idea that Miquella and Radahn had any relationship or meaningful interactions in the base game (which, fair enough, it'd've bloated the main game which already has a lot to say and discuss in regards to it's own story). but without the idea that Miquella and Radahn actually interacted, this "reveal" is unsatisfying because like. Why should we care? Why Radahn? many other people have commented that Godwyn would be a better fit, but regardless, I think it still doesn't really address the underlying problem- The Player is a passive actor in this story.

So then 9+ paragraphs later, we get to the actual proposal of this unhinged rant essay:

What if the player, due to being tarnished, became the Consort of Miquella, much like one becomes the Consort of Marika and thus Elden lord in the age of fracture. Tarnishedness is a status that can apparently be conferred and withdrawn, and is not, in fact, a limiting factor in lordship (given you can become Elden lord regardless). Not to mention that being opposed to the present order, why should Miquella care as to whether or not the Golden Order values tarnishedness or not? Additionally, Miquelladahn already has an attack where he bewitches you (his grab attack), and should he successfully accomplish it twice, provides an instant game over due to your newfound love and affection for your new God.

This confers the advantage that now the player an active participant of the story, allowing them to choose, for themselves, whether they embrace or reject the Age of Compassion. it's the question posed by the ghost in the Fissure: "How will you salvation Offer... to those who cannot be saved?" Opposition is largely fronted by Ansbach (who resents the use of Mohg in this ritual. Which like. Me Too Buddy.) and St Trina, who fears that Miquella will become "trapped" by godhood, much like Marika was. but now the player can also decide for themselves whether or not to Oppose Miquella. maintaining a Hard-as-fuck bossfight as a result of refusal also creates a rather fascinating ludonarrative tinge to the amorality of his love, and it's most villainous side- after all, if he valued a gentle place, why does he support Radahn ultimately destroying you? Clearly, his world order is at least founded on the same violence that everyone else's is. it's a Fascinating argument against pacifism, calling out it's hypocrisy- that in truth, peace is violent, born from crushing those who ultimately oppose it- the police- The State's armed body do not enforce "The peace" by beating bankrobbers in a debate, only by beating bankrobbers. It's a strong argument against meekly accepting the shape of the world and one's part to play in it- that one ought to stand up for themselves against someone else's will, that one should fight for one's own world.

It's an argument, effectively, in favour of the worldview supposed by Ranni The Witch, who is arguably one of Miquella's strongest narrative foils. She used a shocking act of violence (the assassination of Godwyn) as a tool of liberation, to overthrow the order imposed by another. the shape of society shall not be determined by militarist-Faith, or a cult of adoration, but by self determination, the power to pursue one's own ends. Ranni and Miquella both have love play a part of their quest, but whereas Ranni spurns and fears love, maintains a cold exterior in favour of her duty- keeping the power of the Greater Will distant from the world- that the player must actively pursue and be willing to share the burdens of the thousand year journey into the chill night- a choice and a sacrifice you have no obligation to actually make- but you choose to do out of love, a willingness for, just a moment, Ranni to be truly vulnerable, share her past and her beliefs. But, Ranni's world, for all it's freedom, guarantees none of them, guarantees no true success, that people would actually be free, only that they be free to choose. what stops great warriors from simply founding a new kingdom, a new empire? Are Crowns not warranted by strength, after all?

Miquella, by contrast would build that peace, build it so intensely, that it feels obsessive, maddening. You drown you in it- drown in his Peace, his Love. You can choose to agree with him- because the world should be more gentle, more kind, more loving. This war has gone on too long, the cities in Liurnia are sinking into the ground, Leyndell partly buried into the ash of a failing world order. Stormveil suffers under a mad tyrant-king, the Albinaurics oppressed for the "sin" of their birth. Where are the people? Where is harvest and harvesthome? Miquella's peace, Miquella's love can give it to you.

but if you refuse to serve leally, if you refuse to submit, refuse to build his peace. Well, you join the corpses scattered about the divine gate. you walk in again. Godling Miquella asks you once, again, in a voice polite, courteous, filled with love and civility. to join him. You refuse, and he and his servants, be it the resurrected Radahn or some original boss crushes you again. And Again. it hurts. the pain of asserting your boundaries, your body, to refuse to give in to the world he'd build. it'd be so easy to submit.

Miquella would love you, to the best he was capable. and after all, what's the alternative? marrying Marika into an Age of Fracture? perpetuating the age of an obviously flawed Golden Order as it continues to decline? Or is it a more inclusive order- that welcomes those who live in death? It's reactionary principles jolted forward in a moment of tolerance. But Fia's hallowbrand doesn't save the Albinaurics, though- only Those Who Live In Death. It's still a bigoted, reactionary order, making a concession to what is explicitly framed as a social minority only because it's literally written into the laws of reality.

Is the failure of the Order that the gods were not held accountable to it's principles? But Ranni didn't want to be an Empyrean. Didn't want to be someone with explicit fertility-childbearing metaphors. her freedom is in many ways a story of fighting that selfsame Order, the literal Laws Of Reality in the name of her bodily autonomy and her self expression. but that was only because she was not held accountable to The Order, because she could dissent. Don't you see Tarnished? Is this pursuit Not Flawed? But he could fix it. and He would, he would save people To the best of his ability. Miquella loves you and he suffered Apotheosis to save you. But what happens to those who Cannot be saved because they Refuse to be saved. For Miquella Loves you and Suffered Apotheosis to Save You. But only if you submit to his shape of "Being Saved". and If you don't? Well, the Swords of the Haligtree will sever parts of you until you can.

Or I guess we could have what we actually got where we show up and Radahn immediately throws hands for unclear reasons with someone he's seen for like 3 seconds, in a game that fails to like, explain a motivation as to why the player is fighting Miquella aside from "Because the DLC needs a final boss" with his admittedly sick as fuck wrestler intro for a plot thread that has left at least a few fans with more than a sour taste in their mouths. Myself included. Hence the essay. Anyway, if you finished reading this, congratulations. :D

[polarisbibliotheque]

Staying alive - Dante and his s/o

It works, you can't tell me otherwise!

Devil May Dance - Stayin' Alive, by Bee Gees

Pairing: Dante x Reader

Summary: Oh, hellish imps. One of your least favorite demons. It doesn't help that they managed to chain you to a chair at the local Disco - luckily, Dante will surely be there to save the day. And to dance.

Author's Note: I friggin' love this song, thanks so much anon for throwing this with Dante here, it works like a charm!! I almost screamed when I saw it xD My mom is a HUGE Bee Gees fan, so I listen to their songs all the time since I was born hahahaha

I've been writing this one since you guys sent me the songs, but as I mentioned before, my health got in the way as always. I'm managing my energy and a bunch of personal issues that appeared the last couple of months, so I decided to finish this one and focus on the Halloween specials of this year! Fret not, though. I'm keeping all your suggestions and I'll write them - it's just gonna take longer than I expected "^^ Also, there's a throwback here to a very special Devil May Dance, hope you guys like it!

Well, out of all the situations you could have found yourself in, that would be your most unexpected one.

It was a stupid mistake, really. A step in a wrong place, a weaker grip on your sword, a miscalculated attack from an enemy. When you least expected, there you were, caught by a bunch of hellish imps, tied to a chair on the local Disco in town, of all places.

With the imps, well, imping around as all those annoying little creatures used to do.

They were one of your least favorite types of demons, that you had to be honest with yourself.

“You know, if you keep doing that, you’re gonna end up breaking it, stupid little thing.” You said with a sigh, head boringly held by one of your hands.

“Says the big bad devil hunter tied to a chair!” The imp taunted back, still smacking the amplifier. You could kick it into oblivion and make it fly to the next country without a plane, but with those chains you were really useless. You sighed again.

“That’s an amp, you buffoon. Its purpose is to amplify sound, if you want something to happen, you have to put some music on, jerk.” Yes, Vergil’s vocabulary got to you – then again, the best way to describe those demons was ‘buffoon’. Vergil’s colorful vocabulary did have a purpose.

“Blah blah blah – talking too much for someone in your situation!” The room exploded in a bunch of high-pitched devilish laughs and you could only roll your eyes.

“Honestly, I hope that thing breaks and electrifies you. That will serve you as a lesson, you moron.”

As if words had power, the thing immediately broke on the hellish imp hands and sent a wave of electrifying shock through its body – making it shake viciously and drop the thing immediately as it fell to the ground with the tongue sticking out of the mouth and mumbling something while unconscious. The other imps stared at you as you smiled with pride – as if you had actually done something.

“Told ya.” You perked on your chair, looking as proud as you could in that situation. Your weapons were tossed on the other side of the room – and you had already gone through the suffering of watching those buffoons playing around with your stuff until they got bored. “Keep messing around and you’ll all end up dead by stupidity.”

Suddenly, a very well-known bass line started playing – followed by a guitar, a set of lights dancing around the club and the colorful squares on the ground starting their own choreography. You raised one eyebrow, trying to understand what was going on and, really, why the Disco started functioning all of a sudden.

“WOOOHOOOOOO!!!!” Until you saw an imp at the sound booth, messing with a bunch of wires, spinning on one of the office chairs – that definitely didn’t belong to the DJ.

Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around Since I was born

Well, well, there it was. Stayin’ Alive. Quite fitting, if you had to say, given your situation. Quite ironic too – and if Destiny really was a humanoid entity, you wanted to have a serious talk to it, because why in all hells it had to be joking around with you that much?

“And now it’s alright, it’s ok, and you may look the other way…” You started muttering the lyrics, lightly tapping your foot on the colorful ground. If that song didn’t remind you of your red devil, you didn’t know what would.

Smiling to yourself, you forgot the imps for a while. You could almost see Dante at the Devil May Cry, barefoot on a lazy Saturday, dancing around the floor of the shop while you giggled at his huge desk. He had some great moves and was definitely showing off now that he had someone to dance to – you were reading, comfortably settled on his big chair, until the jukebox started playing Bee Gees and Dante couldn’t stop himself from dancing.

You didn’t last long with your book though: your red devil grabbed your hands, leading you to the center of the shop; your very own dance floor. You never really talked much about that with Dante, but you were quite certain he didn’t have many opportunities to go out dancing and have fun – even if he was the most fun-loving guy you had ever met in your life. He was a Sparda, after all, and you knew how much Dante avoided being around people so he wouldn’t put them in any sort of danger. You could almost see him dancing alone at the Devil May Cry for so many years – probably watching Saturday Night Fever on that sorry old television of his, copying Travolta’s moves and learning it all only to have fun… By himself. But now, he had a partner to share that with – and you could see in the brightness of his smile how much Dante enjoyed it.

Both of you waited a whole lifetime to start enjoying the things you had dreamed about for so long.

You snapped out of your golden memories, though, when you heard a shot and a loud sound of something falling on the ground. Furrowing your brows, you looked to the other side of the room and, lo and behold, those hellish pestering things were messing with your stuff again while prancing around to the sound of disco music.

That was something you never thought you would see in your life.

“Oi, put that down! You’ll end up breaking it!” You pointed at the imps joking around with your guns, but they only made funny faces and flipped you back as a response. You just stared at them with contempt in your face, having almost no expression but a very annoyed one. “I swear, I’m gonna hang you all by your feet when I get rid of these shackles, you fucking clowns.”

Among the laughs and the music, though, another shot rang outside the club. No one really cared about it, until the door burst open because the imps outside were yeeted in – flying through the dance floor while screaming, stamping the wall of the stage right across the club and leaving a trail of blood on it as it fell dead to the floor.

Looking at the door, you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile. Bathed in the dancing lights of the Disco, Dante strutted in – sword resting on his shoulders, arms open while his free hand held one of his guns.

“Ey, you guys started the party without me?” He stopped after taking a few steps in, illuminated by the twinkling lights on the floor and the ceiling – that cocky smile plastered on his lips.

Oh, you loved that man. So much. How couldn’t you?

“Wouldn’t call this a party when I can’t dance.” You showed him your foot chained to the chair – and you could see in those sky-blue eyes, a sort of compassion mixed with love and a little bit of pity; crowned by his endeared but still convinced smile.

“No worries, babe, your man’s here to help you.” With a wink, Dante skillfully glided through the dance floor, shooting some imps on the way. They tried to block the man, but he swept the floor with the demons with a swift move from his sword, back to his shoulder with a flowy movement. “Got the wings of Heaven on my shoes, I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose!”

You had to laugh at how happy Dante looked while gliding his feet on the colorful squares on the ground, spinning around to hit a couple more imps who tried to get to him. Facing you, Dante winked one more time, now keeping his sword on place and dual wielding Ebony and Ivory.

One step to the right, a shot at a flying imp. One step to the left, a shot at another devil who tried to run towards him. Keeping the groove, Dante spun again doing his old trick of shooting around the club and hitting multiple enemies at once – you ducked and covered your head, still laughing at his antics. Spinning his guns in his hands, Dante coordinated his steps, the beat of the song and the shots being fired.

Ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive – and a little pause for a choreography as he faced you, as if Dante was putting on a show for you only.

“Woohoo, get ‘em, cowboy!” You had to. Dante usually had fun while fighting, but not like he was having today – it’s not like it was a difficult or life-threatening fight, so he could afford being a lot more playful and goofy.

And you had to love goofy Dante.

A couple more shots, and the imps surrounding him were all but stunned, laying on the floor while recovering for the next round. So, Dante did what he did best.

“Stayin’ aliiiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeeeee…” Singing out loud, shaking his hips, and pointing around only to finish the phrase pointing at you.

And of course, he had to be even more over the top. As the demons got up from the floor – helping each other, fighting each other, trying to stand and walk a straight line – Dante started to walk towards you in the rhythm of the song, shaking his hips with every step only to accentuate even more every beat, as if he was a cowboy who had just laced you and now was approaching his bounty.

“Pffffft, you’re ridiculously campy, cowboy…” You couldn’t help but slightly flush, hiding your face on the hand you previously leaned on while completely bored. Well, you couldn’t say you were bored anymore.

“Guilty of all charges, sheriff!” As he approached, one imp tried to get him from behind only to be kicked on the face and thrown into oblivion by Dante’s strength in the process – those sky-blue eyes never left you, though, as well as the playful smile on his lips. “You can arrest me and throw away the key!”

“Hmmm, I might keep these chains then. Maybe I can tie you to our bed when we get home.” You had to tease him back, or it wouldn’t be you and Dante. You saw a sparkle of both fun and desire inside his eyes, as Dante let out a delighted laugh – and kicked another demon on the face.

“Ha! Now that…!” And he had to let the choreography down for a couple of seconds to turn around and shot a few more demons – spinning his dual guns in his hands before doing so, and once more to put them back into their place – but quickly turning back to you; resting one of his hands on the back of your chair, leaning down so his eyes would be leveled to yours. “Is somethin’ I’d love to try, sheriff. You can tie me up and love me any day, sugar.”

You would’ve quipped back if Dante hadn’t used his free hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a quite loving kiss – given the situation you found yourselves into. The demons were still trying to get back in shape, now that some of them had run away and some others were still insisting on keeping the Disco to themselves, but with Dante around… You didn’t have to care about demons that much.

“First, let’s cut you lose, shall we?” He still had that playful tone in his voice as he let go of your lips, but as Dante kneeled on the floor to see the shackles, his eyes turned to you with nothing but care in them. “Be careful, Imma cut it down, ok?”

You nodded with certainty and kept your feet together, straining the chains as much as you could so Dante could easily cut it with his sword and not fear hurting you in the process.

“And… You’re set free, babe.” Of course, he had to use that sultry tone he always did whenever he decided to use Lucifer or Faust while sparring with you.

And you would’ve paid more attention to that, if it wasn’t for your sheer and rather intense joy of being cut from those chains.

“Ah, freedom, at last!” You got up in a jump, making him laugh with how happy you were. “Now! Who’s the first one I’m gonna hang from the ceiling, huh?!” You had your hands on your hips, staring at the imps with such a deranged fire some of them actually screamed in terror and tumbled away, flying for their lives through the smashed door.

“Will ya look at that!” Dante clapped while laughing, watching as only a few demons remained to try to stand their ground. “I’ve never seen you scaring so many demons at once!”

“See? I’m learning!” You proudly strutted towards your gear on the other side of the room, mirroring the little show Dante put on for you before. He just stood there, hands on his hips, gladly watching you dance. “Gotta thank Vergil for being such a great example!”

“Oh, bet he’s gonna love hearing that!” With a laugh, Dante punched an imp who tried to get him by surprise – now flying away to hit another couple of demons who inadvertently tried to follow. “But hey, keep on shakin’ those hips like that, hot stuff, I might have to one up ya.”

You let out a mischievous giggle in response, now feeling even more motivated to let yourself loose on the dance floor. While checking your guns – making sure they were in one piece, all bullets where they should be, no damages – you kept moving to the rhythm, singing the lyrics you knew so well.

Dante crossed his arms, gladly watching the show you were putting on – now casually hooking your guns to your holsters and moving to check on your sword. The imps gathered together, blabbering around like screeching minions, preparing a supposedly devastating attack with all their forces combined to bring both of you down – but Dante couldn’t care less. He had a delighted smile on his lips, arms still crossed and tapping one of his feet on the floor to the beat of the song, barely holding himself still.

He guessed his lifetime of bad luck was to compensate for the one moment in his life where you appeared – out of nowhere, in the middle of a job, covered in demon blood and spite. That was the luckiest Dante had ever been and he could see that happening as all the luck he never really had.

Who could’ve guessed that after all that hell that he called his existence you out of all people would find him – and see him? Someone with a heart of gold, a soul of steel, a spirit like fire and kindness like water; who would challenge him but also complement him in all the perfect ways Dante could have never imagined.

Watching you dancing while strapping your sword on your back like he always did, turning around to wink at him and shake your hips from side to side to the beat of the song, raising your arms above your head and closing your eyes while smiling… You were better than any dream. You were his partner, his sheriff, his lover. He only wished he could’ve had an entire lifetime with you in it.

“Hoo, is it me or it’s gettin’ hotter in here, babe…?” With those words from his lips, you opened your eyes once more, trying to read what he was about to do when Dante took his sword from its holster and left it on a table.

“Dante…!” You immediately widened your eyes as he started stripping off his coat while making the most obnoxious and campy stripping dance you could have ever seen.

“What…?” Of course, being the man he was, Dante feigned innocence. You just pointed back at him – blushing like the first layers of Hell, but with a radiant smile on your lips. Honestly, he lived just to see that sight every time you decided to grace him with it. Dante would never tire to see you smile so genuinely.

“There are hellish imps here, red devil. Have some decorum.” Again. Vergil’s vocabulary had its purpose – and when it came to his twin brother, you had to admit colorful words were the best you could do to try to voice some of your exasperated feelings.

“Oh, you thinkin’ I’m gonna take it all off?” Dante pointed at himself with his free hand, his coat hanging on the other hand. He let out a hearty laugh right after. “Ha! You are gonna have to work for that, sheriff!”

You had to fall into a fit of laughter as Dante started spinning his coat on the air only to throw it away dramatically, going back to his best Saturday Night Fever dance. You didn’t know if you wanted to melt through the floor into oblivion from embarrassment or if you wanted to get into the challenge. Therefore, laughing was the only choice available, really.

You had to note, though, that the embarrassment only came from having an audience – you could still hear the imps arguing and wondered if they would end up killing each other in disagreement – because if you were both alone at the Devil May Cry… Dante would have the dance-off of a lifetime after that taunt.

“Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” You decided, even if feeling a little awkward, to mirror Dante’s dancing – pointing at him while singing, finally strutting towards your red devil.

You had your whole life to kill demons – dancing with your lover, though, was a lot more important in your book.

“Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’, and we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” Dante pointed back at you, ready to meet you in the middle. Those lyrics, though, they were quite fitting to both of you – with everything you had to go through on a daily basis, somehow, you always remained alive. Together.

There was some kind of poetry in that. At least in Dante’s point of view.

As the famous riff sang its lyrics, you finally reached each other, starting a perfectly synchronized choreography you both invented during a boring afternoon at the shop – which ended up being not so boring after all. With you dancing while perfectly mirroring him, Dante couldn’t help but have the brightest and most delighted smile on his lips – his face lighting up like the sun, barely noticing he was laughing from enjoying that moment.

The most mirroring he ever got was from a shadow doppelganger at the Temen-ni-gru – and that thing was hell bent on killing him with his own powers and tricks. Now dancing? That was a first. Something he had only seen on movies like Footloose or Grease, something he thought he would only have in the realm of daydreams. Oh, how he loved turning those into reality with you.

“Ready…” Of course, you both were very much aware you weren’t alone - the imps weren't as subtle as they thought they were. Your lives were made mostly of stolen moments like that, but it was something you would never complain about. Better to have those moments than to have nothing at all – and the imps were about to steal it away from you. Looking into those sky-blue eyes, you saw Dante’s typical spark and his smart smile on his lips, winking at you as soon as he understood what your eyes were saying. “NOW! ATTACK!”

“I’m stayin’ alive!” You and Dante sang out loud – if you could call that kind of shouting singing – as you spun on the colorful floor, taking one of your guns from your holsters. You ended up with your backs to each other, your arm by his arm, pointing the guns at the demons at the same time. “Let’s rock!”

The imps expected everything but the rain of bullets. They planned a massive attack, all of them at the same time, and still you and Dante made their forces seem like nothing but a wave of hungry mosquitoes during summer – and that because you were each holding only one of your guns.

They could barely get near you before realizing they wouldn’t be able to make it in one piece. The attack was a failure and the best option they had – for those left alive anyway – was to run. You and Dante kept shooting, hitting bullseye with every quick shot. They first screamed as a battle roar, but now they screeched in terror, fleeing from every broken door and window of the Disco – until there were only you and the red devil left.

“Well, guess we showed ‘em a lesson.” You sighed, relief washing down your spine while you put your gun back into its holster. Dante did the same, but you barely waited for him to look back to you. “Thanks for the rescue, cowboy. It was worthy of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out For a Hero.”

“Ah, don’t mention it…” But you cut his dismissive words short with a kiss.

It was intended to be a quick kiss – the types of kisses you would always use to shut him up whenever Dante started self-deprecating or playing down how much he was worth – but soon you wanted more. Stepping closer to him, you didn’t let his lips go, resting your hands on his chest while Dante, even if surprised at first, immediately laid his on your hips. The song was still going, and you both still had the fire to keep dancing, but you could take a few moments to enjoy that kiss with more heart than you intended at first.

You had every intention, though, to keep it going for as long as you could – Dante’s lips were too wonderful to be half-appreciated – but as Stayin’ Alive found its last chords, another song seamlessly started to let its golden beats and delightful guitar color the place with new rhythms and notes. Apparently, the DJ imp had figured out how to keep the whole collection of disco songs playing – and you couldn’t complain about that.

“Hey…” You parted the kiss abruptly, mirroring Dante’s smile from also recognizing the song. “It’s our song, cowboy!”

You held Dante’s hand, pulling him even further into the dance floor, while he let his head hang back with a laugh at the words he never thought he would hear in that damned life of his. Stepping closer to you, he spun you around only to catch you in his arms, dancing together the same way you used to dance at the Devil May Cry – you both giggling and singing to each other.

“Do you remember? The 21st night of September?” Oh, yes. September. The song that wrapped you both in golden dreams and shiny days – the song Dante would always run to you to have you in his arms while singing, the one you would always search his hands to hold while dancing. The one Dante never thought he would be able to have with someone else.

Dante couldn’t have another entire lifetime with you, but he could have that one – and even better than that: you could have that song together. Your song.

He could get used to the sound of that alright.

[therentyoupay]

im completely feral over all your jelsa stories!!!!!! do you ever write established relationship jelsa or have any headcanons about what they would be like together in a serious relationship or marriage????

THANK YOU SO MUCH. 😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕🙏 thank you thank you nonny for this super sweet ask and this really lovely question and all of your love and support!! 💕💕💕💕💕

i have... never actually written established!relationship (in any fandom), now that i'm thinking about it? that said, i guess i can come up with a quick list of some headcanons, maybe? 😂 i will have to think about this more, but for now, here's a quick drop:

elsa is an early riser; elsa helps jack create more sustainable sleeping patterns and habit formations 😂

when jack gets Impetuous Urges to Do Something Rash and Impractically Spontaneous, elsa will ground jack, reminding him to think before acting. (he occasionally Still Does It, anyway.) elsa knows what she signed up for, lol.

jack loves to play Harmless(!) Pranks, just to watch elsa’s reaction. (he is no longer allowed to sneak up on her after The Incident).

they also quibble over the definition of "harmless" and the specific logistical implications of that; for a while, jack was banned from further pranking, but then he got more creative at showing elsa that pranks could be wholesome and genuine, in which they could both be in on the joke. however, due to elsa's deeply-rooted Need to Excel and her (Not-so)Secret Competitive AF Streak, her retaliation in escalating the Cleverness Prank War quickly resulted in jack's prompt implementation of the Prank-Free Zones and Time Periods. (no, he was not scared.)

elsa, usually reserved, has learned to let her playful side show more often with jack. she might still pretend to be exasperated by his antics, but sometimes it's part of the game (or habit).

elsa sill struggles with opening up emotionally sometimes, but she progressively feels safe enough to share her innermost thoughts and fears. with time, she confides in him more about her worries. she still never likes the idea that jack sees her Imperfect Parts, but at least she can tolerate the discomfort (and, yes, take comfort in it) now

(jack loves elsa's Imperfect Parts, and jack admits that he is Weirdly Proud and Competitively Honored to be one of the only people, even including anna, who gets to see them. he also is strangely Comforted and Validated that elsa is, in fact, not perfect because for a while there, he was pretty freaked out and intimidated by how fancy she is.)

until he realized that no one ever let her actually be a Weirdo before, and once he realizes the Truth of Elsa Also Being a Secret (albeit perhaps more Subdued) Weirdo, the Universe Aligns.

jack listens to elsa's Big Conversations intently, activating varying levels of Serious Mode.

jack is getting better at recognizing the moments when elsa needs him to play and needs him to listen or Give His Opinion or any combination of those things.

jack learns that it's not always about Saying the Right Thing (which he is not very good at, anyway, or so our Serially Unreliable Narrator thinks), but rather being able to read elsa's mood and anticipate what she might need (even if she is not aware of it herself yet).

elsa is meticulous about planning and preparing for special occasions.

elsa likes traditions! jack likes tradition only because elsa likes them, lol, and hey, okay, these are more fun than he thought?? (who knew fun could be organized??!!?)

so he really wants to show (off to) her by pulling off Incredible Planning Feats in her honor, too (they do not go as smoothly, lol).

jack will often go out of his way to spontaneously create something meaningful, a moment or a gift or a gesture, that reminds elsa that he cares. he is big on words of affirmation, gift giving (but like, souvenirs that he collects on adventures like, "i saw this rock and it reminded me of your cousin olaf, we should put it on the window after we paint his face on it"), and acts of service, as well as physical touch and quality time. HE WANTS LOVE. he wants TO BE LOVED. he wants to prove that he is worthy of being loved.

(and elsa has to get him to Chill Out sometimes, remind him that he doesn't have to Do Things For Her/Anyone in order to be deserving of care; he is more than what he provides for other people.)

(jack gets its, and appreciates it, but also, the Urge to Provide and Protect is still strong, even after so much time, and sometimes Old Habits Die Hard.)

i get the sense that he'd be the type to he wake elsa up in the middle of the night to take her on a surprise adventure, or convince her to Do a Fun Thing without any preparation (/warning).

and she would Be Alarmed at the Lack of Plan (especially if/when jack Did Not Think This Through), but he also took precautions to ward off Concerns by pacifying her with tea, or reassurances that yes, he did call ahead to make sure the restaurant was open before they left the house, of course he did, he would never just leave home without double-checking beforehand (and frantically googles it two minutes later when he thinks she's not looking; she is, naturally, and even occasionally pretends not to be).

elsa approaches conflict with a desire to resolve things Calmly and Logically. she tries to understand jack’s perspective, even when she disagrees, and she’s careful with her words, not wanting to escalate the situation.

however, she can sometimes withdraw emotionally, fearing that she might say something hurtful if she’s too overwhelmed.

jack was initially (and, honestly, still is, even though he understands more now) hurt by her tendency to shut down when she Feels Too Much, and understands (although it's still hard) that elsa needs time to process her feelings and organize her thoughts.

jack also helps elsa actually Feel her Feelings, instead of just trying to intellectualize and analyze them. (she hates it, BUT sees the value. jack lives for these moments in which he realizes that he's actually contributing positively to her life and helping her in some way, rather than just being a burden or a nuisance, as was/is his fear.)

his initial reaction might be to push for a resolution quickly, but he’s also deeply afraid of Creating Distance between them, so after the first few fights, he really makes an effort to find the right balance between Pushing Hard Enough and Not Pushing Too hard, so that he doesn't drive a wedge between them as they work things out.

jack FEELS intensely, and can be so stubborn. he does not always have the most precise vocabulary or tools to describe his thoughts and feelings, or identify the root causes of what is actually going on inside him; sometimes elsa asks a lot of insightful and guiding questions that help jack come to the conclusions himself, and other times, she Puts Into Words the very thing that he had been thinking or feeling, but could not name, and it is very reassuring to have someone who understands him well enough to be able to do that.

after conflicts or arguments, they take time to Decompress and reassure one another (especially if at least one of them, if not both, was Overthinking again).

when they argue (and healthy couples do, remember!), it’s a dance of patience and understanding: elsa might need a moment to Collect Herself, and jack learns to give her that Space while also making it clear that he’s ready to talk whenever she is, and that he is going to try very hard to be Rational and Patient About It.

in the end, they both prioritize their relationship over any disagreement, always finding a way back to each other.

[queruloustea]

The vessel watches their bug sleep. Quirrel dreams.

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel/Quirrel Characters: Quirrel (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel, Bretta (Hollow Knight) Additional Tags: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel Needs a Hug, Quirrel Needs a Hug (Hollow Knight), Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, tired bug adopts eldritch void creature, eldritch void creature in turn adopts tired bug, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Fluff and Angst, Soup, Past Monomon The Teacher/Quirrel (Hollow Knight) Summary: A bug and a so-called vessel, both having given everything to a plan ultimately failed, get to know each other.

fluffy chapter :]] enjoy, my friends

[shera-dnd]

As someone who was a nerdy teenage boy in the early 2010s I too suffered irreversible damage to my brain chemistry thanks to the movie Scott Pilgrim vs the World

A movie that resulted in most boys of my generation either wishing they were Scott and going down the incel rabbit hole, or wishing they were Ramona and taking E

You can guess which one I was

This eventually resulted in me also reading the comic trilogy and realizing that WOW Scott Pilgrim fucking sucks

I later found out through reading Seconds that Bryan Lee O'Malley just loves writing utter shithead protagonists and then putting them through hell until they come out better the other side

It's safe to say I enjoyed the comic better. In fact I think the movie was very much made with those incel Scott fans in mind

Now in comes Scott Pilgrim Takes Off! a show made to be the diametric opposite of the movie. A show made for us, the Ramona fans who took E

Y'all this show reads like official Scott Pilgrim AU fanfiction and I mean that in the best way possible

The series takes the focus away from Scott and instead spends its run time humanizing EVERYONE ELSE. Scott may still be the title character, but this isn't his story anymore

This is everyone's story. His friends, the exes, and especially Ramona, who takes the leading role in the show. And everyone has the space to shine, grow and develop

In the comics Scott and Ramona are so far in their own heads that they can't see the world around them properly, and the movie is too busy sucking Scott's dick, but this show brings that world to life

So if you wanna see Ramona go on her own adventure, watch Knives grow past her crush on Scott, and see all the many ways the exes can become better people

FUCKING WATCH THAT SHOW!

I could ramble about every last episode bit by bit, but tbh y'all should experience this on your own

I hadn't expected to love new Scott Pilgrim media in the year of our devil 2023, but here we are I guess

[keirawantstocry]

Hi, Jay<3 could you do poly morning crew flirting in combat training please? You know, like being "in love with your carnage" trope kinda stuff

Hi tia do you know im in love with u and all ur ideas /p

-

Fit prioritized combat training over a lot. He had told them that it was instinct from 2b2t. The wasteland was the most dangerous place in the world and it always paid off to be prepared. At first those instincts had relaxed on the island but they were coming back full force as the dangers on the island grew. They needed to be prepared again, at their finest when it came to combat skills.

Which led them to then and now. Fit and Pac stood blade to blade in the middle of the beaten down earth with Tubbo watching carefully from the side. They sliced and parried, the diamond clashing of their swords echoing across the large clearing. Sweat trickled down both of their foreheads at the equal competition. 

“You’re strong,” Fit said in a quick breath, enjoying how Pac’s sweaty face flushed. 

“Shut up,” Pac snapped, bringing his sword up to meet Fit’s once again. 

“DON’T LET HIM FLIRT AND DISTRACT YOU,” Tubbo called from the sidelines. 

“HOW?” Pac shouted back while Fit laughed at the both of them. 

“Hey Fit!” Tubbo called, his hands up to his mouth. 

“Yeah?” Fit asked while he and Pac continued to circle around each other, looking for an entry to attack. 

“I like how you look all sweaty but I wish you looked like that while you were in my bed.” 

Fit stumbled over his feet at that statement, nearly falling and giving Pac a perfect opportunity to knock his sword out of his unstable hands and slash at his feet. To the ground he fell, knocking the wind out of his chest. The sky was bright blue above him and his face was surely bright red. Distantly he could hear both Pac and Tubbo laughing their asses off. 

“Shut the fuck up, you two.” 

Both of their faces appeared above him with matching grins and wide smug eyes. 

“Awww did I fluster you?” Tubbo teased. 

“No,” Fit lied. 

“Uh huh,” Pac said. “Sureeeee.”

“Sureeee,” Tubbo echoed. 

Fit lifted himself up onto his hands before rising to his feet. “Actually shut up."

[pixelatedraindrops]

RAINCODE SICKFIC FINALE (SPOILERS)

My awaited finale to my RainCode Sickfics of the Heart Series is finally done at last!! This took me a couple of months to put together but I figured since I mentioned it months before and delayed it, I had to get it done as my next project. It's the MakoYuma sickfic where Yuma takes care of a seriously ill Makoto.

This fanfic is officially my longest RainCode fic to date, even beating HIWTHI's word length, so make sure to read it only if you have time! It's the final sequel to that fic as well.

Be Warned: This fic is on the angsty/extreme side with a few trigger warnings. Such as Vomiting, Psychological Trauma and Implied Suicide. Please take caution/care if you read!

__

Also yes! This is the second commission I received from FTAngel! (if I'm gonna commission someone for official looking work, then I'll ask for both my targets getting cared for hehe :3) This illustrates a scene toward the end of Chapter 7 (the fic will feature it as well)

There are actually a few people I'd like to shout out/credit for this fanfic's creation. So thank you all for unknowingly inspiring me ^-^

@gardenofskeletonss

Your art and thoughts of Makoto's past as a test subject were very helpful fodder to make this fic super angsty and tie to how much this poor thing has likely suffered. Helped me write down some good dialogue for the hallucinations and freakouts in the delirium stage. So Thank you for that!

@alfiely-art

Your small fic where Makoto age regresses when he got stressed gave me some good thoughts for writing Makoto's delirious behavior. Although I'm not a huge fan of age regression, reducing Makoto to a vulnerable and needy child-like state when super ill was a lot of fun! I love the idea of him being reduced to that since he never could be a child (and he is 3 freaking years old lmao)

@shiut

Those sprite edits you made really fueled my juices to continue wiring this fic. Having a picture in my head of what a vulnerable Makoto looked like was such an inspiration boost so thank you for taking the time to make those edits! I hope you don't mind me using some of them in the fic's 5th Chapter. Also your theory and thoughts of homunculi not being able to die from illness was briefly mentioned as well.

@draconicsparkle

Thank you for being my beta reader. I usually don't trust others to read my work but given how well your reading does with the community and in general, as well as you being a Makoto superfan, your encouragement really helped me feel more confident in continuing and getting this done. Thank you so much again.

With that out of the way, I hope you all enjoy the story!! I will still write more sickfics for RainCode, but this is the final one that I consider to be canon/post canon.

So I hope it delivers well!

Eat up RainCode and MakoYuma fans!

Hope the meal is to your liking~ ^-^ ♡

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 28: Collecting Objects

The pack has a beach day, and Mountain and Rain spend it looking for a keepsake to take home.

Thank you so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers <3

"Will this do, tadpole?" Mountain asks, holding up something small between big fingers, covered in their human glamour.

Rain chirps curiously, straightening up from where he's been combing through the sand. Behind them, the lake laps at the shores, water stretching off to the horizon, sky and water the same bright blue.

The band's on an off day, Papa deciding that a lake day would be good for all of his ghouls. Mountain's grateful for it, eager to take off his shoes and sink his toes in the sand, connect to his element. Rain, Dew and Aurora had happily dove into the water the moment the bus had pulled to a stop, even though Rain is a saltwater ghoul. Any water is good enough for their magick.

Cumulus and Cirrus wade through the waves, up to their knees, talking to each other in quiet tones, while Aeon and Swiss playfight and tussle in the water. Swiss keeps saying something about planting palm trees, and Aeon rolls their eyes, splashing water at him every time.

Papa's on the shore, under an umbrella, eyes shut behind sunglasses. Should they approach him, Mountain knows the old man will insist that he isn't sleeping, just resting his eyes. His face is slathered in sunscreen that smells strongly of artificial coconut and zinc.

Rain trots over, squinting in the summer sun at what Mountain's holding. It's cobalt blue and about the size of a fifty cent gumball, just slightly translucent and glowing where the afternoon sun hits it. "Shit, sunflower, it's perfect," Rain gushes, holding his palm out.

Mountain gives him a crooked grin, depositing the bit of sea glass into his outstretched hand. He watches as Rain rubs his thumb over the wave-smoothed edges, a bit of glass buffered and polished into a pretty little gemstone. It'll get tucked into one of the nooks in Rain's bunk, along with all of the other stones the two of them have collected together, until they get back to the Abbey.

The collection gets split evenly between two places. Half of the rocks will line the shelf above the desk in Rain's room, organized by color. There's a pile for each tour Rain's been on, can name every body of water he took them from.

The other half will go to the greenhouse, to the bed of flowers that Mountain keeps, one plant for each of his packmates, former and current. They line the edges of the raised bed, curling around the snapdragons and jasmine, the baby's breath and catchfly and daffodils. The stones circle the morning glories climbing their trellis, tucked around the petunias.

It's theirs, the same way Cirrus and Cumulus buy magnets from every rest area and truck stop the band stops at.

"Did you find one for me?" Mountain asks, watching as Rain inspects the sea glass.

"Mhm," Rain hums, reaching wordlessly into the front pocket of his shorts and pulling out a stone. It's flat and almost perfectly round, and if the lake were calmer, water glassy and still, it would make an excellent skipping stone. It's a slightly marbled grey, basalt, if Mountain had to take a guess, but he's more than willing to bet that Rain selected it for its shape rather than any unique coloration.

"This is perfect, Rain," Mountain beams, auburn hair glinting copper in the light. Rain gives him a grin back, and even through his human glamour, his teeth are just a little too sharp.

"How about I put these with our stuff, and we actually get in the water?" Rain offers, shifting on his feet.

Mountain's brow furrows for a moment, poker face nonexistent when it comes to his water ghoul. "Shit, didn't mean to keep you from the wa-"

Rain reaches up, pulling Mountain down by the shoulders to press a quick little kiss to his lips, effectively shutting him up. "Don't apologize. I needed to get a rock for you."

Mountain smiles again, unsure if the warmth on his face is just the sun or a blush. He waits until Rain's back is turned, depositing their stones in one of the pouches of his backpack over by Copia, before calling out. "Last one in is on dishes duty when we get back to the Abbey!"

Rain splutters, scrambling through the sand, and Mountain just laughs.