#melody dante

[multifandom-shipper]

who watching tonight

[autiin]

“If Kisses were Snowflakes, I’d send you a blizzard.”❄️🩵💜

Happy Holidays from Alia and Melody!!✨🤍🖤🎄

Art by @ghostly-kal

[plasticfang]

Merrie Melodies and Gremlins

[welcometohelck]

[dualanya]

got my heel crushing the snake, there is nothing you can take

i’ve been obsessed ever since i heard the new league of legends song and i knew it wouldn’t leave my head until i drew all these

[enha-stars]

✧ eyes on me ; s.j

pairing: bf!jake x f!reader (mdni)

synopsis: jake was greedy; he was soft and loving and a bit silly, but he was greedy for you, for your attention, for anything you’d give him

warnings: lots of fluff, down bad jake, mentions of religion, death, hell [romantic], shy/sub jake (sorta), sort of dom reader (if you squint), attention whore jake (affectionate), boob play, jake loves titties, suggestive, no smut, kissing, hair pulling

a/n: idk what this is but i'm having so many jake thoughts it's insane. what i would give to pull his hair once.

the smell of butter wafted through the air as you fluffed the pillows on your sofa, humming a soft melody that jake had strummed into your subconscious.

jake watched you from the kitchen as he poured the popcorn into a large bowl and grabbed two cans of pop before he walked towards you, a soft smile on his lips.

he loved friday evenings because he got to spend them with you; your arms wrapped tightly around him as you mumbled about your day, he spent better half of the night finding a way to crawl into your skin and build a home.

he wanted to be as close to you as humanly possible, and then some. sometimes —and he always thought he was being slick but you knew— he would listen to your heartbeat and will his own heart to beat in synch with yours.

it always did.

jake watched as you fell onto the sofa, a soft groan escaping your lips when your back dug into the armrest. his eyes twinkled and he set down the popcorn on the little table you had pulled.

“don’t wanna lay on me, baby?”

you shuffled a bit downwards before you smiled up at him, eyes a bit droopier than you would have liked. he looked so pretty, standing above you with his hair brushed back and his skin glowy.

“mm, i wanna hold you.” jake naturally bit his bottom lip as his eyes crinkled in adoration. it didn’t matter how many years you two had been together; jake sim would always have that shy lover boy inside him.

jake waited patiently as you got comfortable and moved to lay on you once you nodded at him, giving him the go ahead. you prepared for jake's full weight on you and tensed up your body but he gently laid himself in between your legs.

he slotted himself between your legs and smiled against your chest when your legs wrapped around his lower half, your arms following in suit and wrapping around his shoulders.

his arms wrapped around your waist and he breathed you in; tucking his face in your neck. it had been a long week for the both of you and he had been looking forward to this every second of the week.

you shivered when his warm hands slid under your shirt and rested on your back, his nails lightly awakening all the cells in your body. you dug your heel in his shin and he nipped the skin of your neck.

"you smell good," he whispered. his eyes were squeezed shut and when you pulled back to see his face, he looked immensely content; like this is exactly where he belonged, exactly where he would stay.

"i smell like you," you smiled down at him, a twinkle in your eyes. he wanted to kiss it, to brush it and feed it; keep it ignited forever like his own personal lighthouse.

"exactly," he replied. "and i smell like you. just how God intended."

instead of answering, you crinkled your nose at him and he felt his heart rate pick up at the sight.

you slid one hand down his shirt through the collar and your other hand pressed 'play' on the tv before it slid into his hair. you felt him shiver under your touch and you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

right then and there, if jake had died, he would have been okay with it. he would have hated leaving you all alone, but if he had to go, he wanted it to be in your arms.

he was sure that even if dante himself had pulled him through hell, a second in your arms was enough to make it all worth it.

the familiar blues and fishes graced your tv and jake hummed in content as he pressed his ear against your heart, listening to the melody of the mermaids and your heart synch into the most beautiful song jake had ever heard.

your eyes never strayed from the tv as you watched the film you had been thinking about for a few days. you couldn't pinpoint why the little mermaid had been swimming through your thoughts until you began running your fingers through jake's locks.

jake focused on the tv for a bit but the feeling of your hand pressing down on his back, the coldness of your palm against his burning skill had him dizzy. his eyes fluttered shut when your fingers scraped his skull.

"you remind me of prince eric," you whispered, tugging on jake's hair. you tilted his head upwards to catch his eye and your throat bobbed at his expression; the way his eyes burned with a simmering heat and the small hitch in his breath didn't escape you.

"yeah?" his throat was dry as he looked up at you, a familiar heat bubbling in his stomach. "what about him?" jake didn't care about the movie. he didn't care about ariel's dilemma or sebastian's lectures. he cared about you; he wanted you, he wanted your attention.

all of it.

you shuffled under him, lips getting closer as your fingers ran through the ends of his hair. you slid your hand from the nape of his neck to the front and grazed his skin until you could brush the hair out of his eyes.

jake stared up at you with shiny eyes and pink lips. he had been biting on his bottom lip for a bit and you brushed your thumb against the pulled lip, enticing him to release it.

his body was yours, after all.

"you kind of look like him," you responded. your fingers traced the lines of his face, the dips and plush of his flesh until he was sure that you could mold him from any clay. he rested his chin in between your breasts, putty in your arms.

"your hair," you mumbled. jake watched carefully as you ran both your hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. his eyes shut and he barely held on to the whimper that almost escaped him. "it looks like his. especially since you've grown it out."

"what else?" jake wanted your eyes on him. he couldn't really handle them, but he loved the way his body felt alive under your gaze.

"your personalities are similar," you mused. your eyes glanced at the tv and jake slid his hand from your back to your stomach. the rough calluses on his hand tickled your skin and you glanced down at him, a smile tugging on your lips at the desperation in his eyes.

"he's charming, optimistic, adventurous," you listed. jake listened carefully, letting your voice settle deep within his bones until he was sure he'd hear you even after death. you smiled brightly at him and jake felt the air in his lungs leave him. "he's sensitive and a bit shy."

"sounds like me," jake grinned.

"it does," you laughed. "i fell in love with you long before i even met you."

you turned back to the tv so you didn't see the look of pure astonishment on jake's face. he felt his cheeks warm and he pressed his face against your chest, grinning to himself when you laughed at his shyness. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and his hand slid up your stomach.

he wasn't full yet; he was still starving for your attention. he wanted to bask under your stare until it overwhelmed him. he let his hand travel further upwards until his fingers brushed the skin right under your breasts.

he was so glad you weren't wearing a bra.

you tried really hard to keep you attention on the tv. you knew jake was up to something, but you weren't ready for his wet tongue to press against your nipple through your thin shirt.

you naturally arched your back in response and jake took that as a sign to continue. your nails dug into his scalp as his tongue continued to poke and lick at one of your nipples while he pulled and pinched the other with his hand.

he loved your boobs. he could have spent the rest of his life like this, simply laying in between your legs with his tongue on your skin and he would have happily thanked whoever was responsible.

your head fell back and your eyes shut on their own accord at the pleasure. noticing the lack of attention, jake bit down on your skin and smiled against your wet shirt when your eyes fell on his.

"eyes on me, baby."

jake stared into your eyes as he sucked on your other nipple, his hand squeezed and kneading the other breast. your breathing had deepened and jake buzzed under your stare, sucking and nibbling like he had a point to prove it.

you swallowed a moan but jake felt it in the way your body squirmed underneath his. he released your hardened, perked nipple and raised his head, eyes shiny with lust and love.

"please," he begged against your skin. his breath brushed your face and you had never seen anything prettier. his hair fell across his forehead so prettily, and his eyes shone with so much love it almost choked you.

you smiled softly at him before your hands travelled from his hair to his cheeks. you cupped his chiseled jaw and pulled him towards you, lips crashing against his. you swallowed his little gasp and tipped your head further down, lips moving his passionately.

jake felt his entire core shake as his lips moved against yours, teeth and tongue all clashing as every unsaid whisper speaks itself into existence.

you pulled jake's hair, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. a string of saliva connects your bruised, plump lips and jake breaks it wirh his tongue. your eyes hungrily follow his movements and he knows he has all your attention now.

he knows he's always had it, but now you can't think about anything except him. exactly how he can't think about anything other than you.

"what do you want, baby?"

you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and smiled against his lips when his eyelashes brushed your skin. you pulled away and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

"you, jake. i always only ever want you."

he grinned at the look in your eyes and the breathiness of your voice and pressed his pelvis against yours, swallowing your moan.

"i always only ever want you too."

[schlock-luster-video]

On December 20, 1978 Piranha debuted Spain.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

See How It Shines

Summary: Spencer gets home from work to find Reader in tears over the new Hozier album.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff and comfort

Content warnings: The masterpiece of Hozier’s Unreal Unearth, me stopping halfway to listen to the entire album, me crying to every song I reference

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: shoutout to anyone who picks up on every song reference I make. I am instantly in love with you.

Spencer had been etched with the weight of unsolved cases and the relentless march of time, and he was forced to call it a night around six. The team had already pulled an all-nighter earlier in the week, so Hotch decided they all deserved rest. Spencer, however, wasn’t tired (he was; it was the late cups of coffee). Nevertheless, he makes it to his apartment door, skipping every other step. As Spencer turned the key in the lock, a soft melody flowed from the other side, haunting him yet drawing him in.

When the door opens with a slight creak, the music only grows. The living room was a sanctuary, bathed in the golden hues of twilight and table lamps, together casting long, ethereal shadows across the aged wooden floor. Plants adorned the walls and shelves. Since you moved in, he has never shared a space with so many simple living things.  His record player, a testament to decades of shared music between him and his mother, spun its vinyl tale. This time it was for you, as it breathed life into the album as you sat on the couch in a nest of blankets.

Ah yes, it was Hozier day. The anticipated album release of Unreal Unearth. His girlfriend highly anticipated it. She had been vibrating as the week drew to a close with five days left, then three, then one. And it was well worth the wait, considering the tears continuing to streak her face as the Irish man begged for someone to not fall away from him.

Spencer set his bag down by the door and proceeded toward the couch with caution as if he were ready to pounce like a predator on prey. Except the end resulted in a tender hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him with a puffy face and snotty nose. It was Spencer’s next instinct to grab a tissue from the end table and offer it to you. Of course, you took it. And even though the answer was obvious, he still felt the need to ask, “Are you okay?”

It was a struggle for you to inhale, so you blew your nose again. "I didn’t expect this to be a breakup album.” The album sleeve was wrapped in your arms, proving to already be a prized possession. The tracklist was organized by the layers of Dante’s hell they fell under.

Spencer gave you a small smirk before placing a kiss on your head. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get started on dinner.” It was his turn to take the culinary reins for tonight. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to know who this woman is, Spencer.” You throw your head back as Hozier hits a high note that neither of you has heard from him before. You stay there as you ask, “Who made this man feel so much pain?”

“You want to fight Hozier’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Ew, no.” Your nose scrunched. “I just want to know how. The power to make a man feel this way.”

Spencer chuckled. He had answers. And he’s happy to not reply with any of them. “I’m making chicken parmesan. That okay?”

You nodded, soon returning to singing about holding a heart like a steering wheel. But you then grabbed his hand. Your eyes are red, and Spencer is sure you’ll need drops before the end of the night. “Did a part of you die the first time I called you ‘baby,’ Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk as he quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“They’re song lyrics.” You let go of him.

Spencer has never fully understood the uproar that comes with Hozier. Then again, no one really flocks to Beethoven and Chopin like they used to. Plus, Vivaldi wasn’t known for belting out in the middle of his pieces and Spencer can at least admit Hozier’s belts ( well, the ones he’s heard so far) tug at him by the chest. He came back to his senses quickly when his mismatched socks landed on the cold tile. He washed his hands and opened the fridge door with his good knee.

Songs of water and knives reminded him he had chicken to wash and cut. And the familiar feeling in his own kitchen gets the tasks in Spencer’s head in order. He could feel the weight of his week slowly lift, replaced by Spencer attempting to chop to the song. It was inefficient. Some songs play shockingly fast for a breakup album. He settled for a more percussion style of noise, making each slice more deliberate as a testament to his meticulousness.

The flour and breadcrumbs sizzled in the oil that mingled with the sight of you matching the pitch of the song and humming where Hozier shouted, caressing the album sleeve like it was alive and needed your warmth. The weight of the lyrics settling in your bones caused your head to fall in shock as a long, high note carried through the whole apartment.

The album played on, weaving tales of love and loss, each one successfully targeting your core and striking effectively. And when Spencer got into the groove of his own routine in the kitchen, he listened to the lyrics as they almost guided him to autopilot, reminding him of the joys that come with his leg around you in bed, ensuring you don’t move anywhere except closer to him. And how the idea of losing that is something he does not care to dwell on for long.

He could keep it together, he thought.

Until his voice soars about the glistening of an animal’s eyes. About the force of love for someone recklessly in the middle of the street. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a visceral reaction—Spencer's sniffle. But it wasn’t unheard.

You turned your gaze toward Spencer, your eyes soft with understanding. You could hear the emotion in his breath and the slight catch in his throat. “Spencer?” You asked.

“I’m fine.”

Your lower lip quivers with a puffy smile. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m chopping. Chopping while completely fine.” His sniffles continued to give him away (sanitary stations over pride every time).

You couldn’t help but find the situation adorable. You lazily got up from the couch, letting one of the blankets slide off with you, dragging along behind you across the wood floor and then the tile. You carefully put your hands around his waist because safety comes first. You squeeze him, and he laughs a little. For a moment, he puts his left hand on your arm, keeping it there. You noticed how his fingertips were colder than expected as you looked at the cutting board from under his arm. “So basil makes you cry? Is that it?”

Spencer laughs again, diverting his gaze from the record player and clearing his eyes from unshed tears. “Today, it apparently does. There must be some emotional properties I didn’t consider.”

“Nothing to do with an Irish man singing his heart out?”

Spencer rubs his nose on his sleeve. Fuck sanitation right now; he’s about to go through it. The snot is evident. See how it shines, indeed. “Is he really singing about roadkill?”

“Yep.” You sniffle in return as you lay your head on his back.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“How does he do it?”

“That I don’t know.” You held Spencer as he let the music hit him. Taking moments to turn from the food to wipe his tears.

[bloodcasket]

CARNAL ANALYSIS

PAIRING: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW, dirty talk, pet names, overall smuttiness, bondage, dominant Vergil, submissive reader, degradation, power-play, other mentions of bdsm related topics. Etcetera. Not proof read muahahaha, sorry guys.

DESCRIPTION: Nsfw headcannons for Vergil.

A/N: I don't like this sorry guys, but I promised :( this was rushed.

SULTRINESS ;

Vergil's tongue is precise, rough, his speech is sharp and his words are calculated.

His comments may appear snarky, or smart-witted, but it's all meant to tease you. To tell you he's always ahead, that he is the one with more power. He enjoys this sense of dominance.

In bed, Vergil carries this same tone of speech, his words are so teasing that it flusters you.

Vergil enjoys degrading as much as he loves praise, although he will never make a remark to bring your confidence down, rather just comments about how hungry you are to be bent over. A toy for him.

His praise toward you is more along the terms of possessive, growling heated words of desire, telling you that you're doing well, that you're all his. Your body, and your soul.

His favorite terms may be vixen, brat, wretch, greedy, pet, and foolish boy/girl/etc.

The half-demon himself much prefers praise from his partner, something that will stroke his ego when he's mounting you.

But if you wish to be smart with him, don't expect anything soft. He'll quickly pull you over his knee and spank some common sense into you.

GUILTY PLEASURES ;

Dominance. He wouldn't have it any other way. Submit to him willingly, and he'll be very much pleased.

Grinding. Seat yourself over his lap, and pleasure yourself over his thigh a little, it's entertaining for him to see you get off so easily.

Bondage. There's nothing more exciting to him than you complying to his control. To have your hands restrained, moaning softly, a beckon for him to ravish you, he's feral.

Prey/predator. Vergil finds it humorous knowing you attempt to out-run him, or win in your hiding. It's cute, innocent. He wins every time, but he loves the adrenaline rush as foreplay. To see your face flushed, temples slick with sweat, your mouth releasing soft pants once he's got you pinned. He could do this more than once.

Cockwarming. One of his favorites. It's quite common for him to drape you over his lap, and ease you further down onto his cock, hushing away your whines as you two sit in warmth. He could sit there forever, with a book in hand, your soft pleas dissipating into the night.

Overstimulation. He likes a challenge, loves the chase. The sound of pleads, begging, and sobbing. When he finally lets you cum, you're hysterical, too tired to even move forward, all from his fingers or tongue alone. Under his cock, you're sure to fall into pieces.

Voyeurism. There's something that riles him up knowing you're touching yourself. To hear you from the other side of your bedroom door, imagining you writhing in bed, playing with yourself so sexually. Bless if the door is cracked, he wouldn't mind a glimpse.

Discipline/Power-play. He won't tolerate a bratty attitude, he'll break you if you don't comply. A few spanks here and there, and you'll apologize, tears in your eyes, cheeks flushed. He hates how much it arouses him.

Finger-sucking/Worshipping. Whether receiving, or giving, he indulges in such lustrous concepts. What a dream it is, you on your knees, appraising him, and then obediently taking his fingers into your mouth. Very good.

Volume. He lacks volume, but when riled up, he's a growler/grunter. He takes pride when he hears your sweet melodies though, and would much rather keep his composure to enjoy hearing your pleasures.

LIBIDO ;

His hunger is rather limited. Although, his stamina is high, and if tempted the right way, you will be fucked so thoroughly you are quite literally weak. Limp, legs wobbly and your vision foggy from so many tears.

While Dante is the brother with confidence in his sexual interest, Vergil likes to be secretive, and quiet about it.

The eldest is too focused on other things to let sexual intimacy fog his thoughts. He could go for a very long time without pleasure, but with you as his companion, things become different.

Ways to arouse the dark slayer is by pestering him, trying his patience and belittling his skills, he'll quickly discipline you. The next is sweetness, speaking words of honey to him gets his lips molded all over yours, and suddenly, your body will be worshipped.

Vergil could go hours in bed, could you?

He'll most likely wear you out every and any session, whether romantic, soft, rough, or slow.

PHYSICAL ;

Vergil knows how to tuck, that's for sure, but he's a half-demon, don't expect something easy.

Sparda blood gives him quite a package.

Packs more length than girth.

On his lover he's not picky, worships your flesh.

Loves the flesh of your thighs, observing the way his fingers sink into you as he fucks you into nothingness.

Kissing and suckling on your throat is divine to him.

He does quite admire your hands though, the way they grasp the sheets, desperate. Or the way they pat him, endless whines and pleads escaping you as your hands weakly hold him, begging for mercy, begging for release.

Of course, they way they wrap his length also.

DISLIKES ;

Refusal of aftercare. Intimacy and love are very important to him, and if not given such love before, during, or after lovemaking, he will not be bothered to waste his time on anyone.

Quickies. He prefers to take his time, to feel the moment properly. Vergil is a man matured physically and mentally, he takes things rather seriously then spontaneously. He is educated in patience, if he must wait for intimacy, he will.

Multiple partners(threesome, etc). No other person is allowed in bed, it must only be you and him. He expects you to feel the same, because he's most definitely not sharing.

Exaggerated love-making. Everything he does is sincere, don't drag it or tell him white lies. Fake moaning or overdoing sexual acts will quickly irritate him.

Non-con. He enjoys the idea that his partner is willing to love him in such ways, so doing things that make them uncomfortable is off the table. Abusive/forceful sex is filthy to him, he hates it.

In public. He would much rather be in the security of his own home, with you. Although, if you arouse him in public, he will punish you later, even if you've already forgotten about it. He keeps track of these things.

[asongpanda1]

Happy International Cat Day from Tot, Dante, and Melody!

[artemlegere]

Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry

Artist: Charles Meynier (French, 1768-1832)

Date: 1798

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Genre: Mythological Painting

Location: Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

In Greek mythology, Calliope is the muse of epic poetry, eloquence, music, song, and dance. She is the eldest of the nine muses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, and is often depicted as their leader. Calliope is known for inspiring great poets throughout history, including Homer, Virgil, Ovid, and Dante Alighieri, and was often called upon for help when they were writing. She is also said to have given the gift of eloquence to kings and princes.

Calliope's name literally means "beautiful-voiced" and she is often depicted in art carrying a writing tablet and stylus, or with a lyre. She is also sometimes depicted with grapes, an aulos (an ancient Greek musical instrument), or panpipes, which may refer to her role as an agricultural goddess.

Calliope is also said to have been the mother of Orpheus, the most famous musician in Greek mythology. In some accounts, she is the daughter of Zeus and Mnemosyne, and has siblings including Euterpe, Polyhymnia, Urania, Clio, Erato, Thalia, Terpsichore, and Melpomene. She may also have had two sons with the god Apollo, Hymen and Ialemus, and may have been the mother of Rhesus, king of Thrace, or Linus, the inventor of melody and rhythm.

Calliope first appeared in Greek mythology around 700 BCE in Homer's The Iliad and continued to appear until around the ninth century.

[piancqwrites]

Company

synopsis ➸ Laurance has never seen you around the village before until he saw you walk into the latest party.

tags ➸ Laurence x reader, fluff, sfw

divider by @strangergraphics-archive + @strangergraphics

Laurence Zvhal, the second head guard of Phoenix Drop, stood at the edge of the crowded plaza with a cup of eggnog.

He stayed nearby, ensuring he could always keep an eye on Lord Aphmau. The warm glow of the Christmas lights danced around the place, casting festive shadows over the cozy decorations the Village of Phoenix Drop had meticulously put up. Lord Aphmau’s laughter rang out like a melody, mingling with the cheerful chatter of their friends.

But Laurence felt out of place.

It wasn’t the party itself. He appreciated the effort Aaron and Aphmau put into making everyone feel welcome, creating a space where their tight-knit group could come together and celebrate the holidays. It was more a feeling of being a misfit among people who seemed perfectly at home in this cheerful chaos.

Before Aaron came into the picture, Laurence's feelings for Aphmau were strong, leading to a silent competition with Garroth for her attention. But once Aaron and Aphmau's bond grew undeniable, Laurence's romantic feelings for her faded.

Instead, he redirected his devotion into a vow to protect her as her guard, a role he took immense pride in.

He looked around, watching his friends interact. Garroth and Dante were bickering playfully by the Christmas tree, while Katelyn and Nana engaged in a heated debate over the best Christmas dish.

Lord Aphmau was always the center of attention, her infectious energy drawing everyone in. Even Aaron, usually more reserved, seemed relaxed, a soft smile on his face as he leaned against the wall, observing the scene with quiet contentment.

Laurence sighed, taking a sip of his drink. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel included; his friends always made an effort to make him feel welcome. It was more the persistent sense that he was somehow different, like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. He had his quirks and his past, things that sometimes set him apart. And while everyone had their own baggage, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his was heavier, that it kept him at a slight distance.

But it wasn’t just that. He felt like something was missing.

He couldn’t pinpoint the main reason for his troubles, not really.

The calling from the Nether, the darkness that always loomed at the edges of his mind, the countless amount of drops of blood that soaked his hands, the weakening grip on his humanity—being just her guard wasn't enough.

He hated being a shadow knight.

Laurence wandered over to a nearby tree, looking at the softly falling snow. The world outside was quiet, starkly contrasting with the lively storm inside his head. It reminded him of how he often felt—a silent observer on the outside looking in.

Lost in thought, Laurence didn’t notice Aaron approaching until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Aaron smiling at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Hey, you alright?” Aaron asked, his voice soft enough to not draw attention from the others.

Laurence forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just needed a breather,” he replied, though he knew Aaron could see through the lie. Aaron had a way of understanding people, of seeing the things they tried to hide.

“You know, you don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” Aaron said, as if reading his mind. “It’s okay to just… be.”

Laurence looked at Aaron, searching for the right words. “I know. It’s just… sometimes I feel like I’m not really part of all this. Like I’m just… here.”

Aaron’s expression softened. “We all feel like that sometimes,” he said. “But you’re a part of this, Laurence. A big part. We wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Laurence glanced back at the room, at his friends laughing and joking, then back at Aaron.

“Thanks,” he murmured, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders. It wasn’t a magic fix, but it was comforting to know that someone understood.

Any person within a mile could sense the magicks coursing through Zoey's veins. So when she came rushing in with a guard from Phoenix Drop in armor close behind, he was worried that something was wrong.

That guard, Laurence had never seen her before. His sharp blue eyes were observed as she ran directly to Lord Aphmau, urgency clear in her voice.

"The barrier has been placed, my Lord," Zoey said breathlessly.

Lord Aphmau's expression shifted from joy to concern in an instant but quickly returned to a reassuring smile. The lively chatter around them hushed as everyone turned to listen.

"Thank you, Zoey," Aphmau replied, her voice steady. "Everyone, stay calm. This is just a precaution so we can enjoy the party without any interruptions."

Laurence’s gaze remained fixed on the new guard, his curiosity piqued by her demeanor. As Zoey wrapped up her report, Laurence took a moment to appreciate the details.

The vivid, deep red bow tied high behind the guard’s hair was a striking contrast to her otherwise serious armor. He didn't miss how the wind blew kisses against her skin, highlighting the volume of her hair and the way it gracefully landed around her shoulders. It was both an elegant accessory and a subtle declaration of her individuality.

The way the bow accentuated her sharp, observant eyes added to her already compelling presence. Laurence noted how her stance remained a blend of relaxation and alertness as if she was always prepared to transition from festive enjoyment to action with a mere thought. Her ability to navigate the balance between the two worlds—celebration and duty—was impressive.

“Apologies for being late, my lord,” she said, bowing slightly. “Bandits were lurking at the border, so I made sure they were dealt with. They’re currently locked in the cell.”

Irene, even her voice sounded lovely.

Laurence’s interest was piqued further. Her competence and the calm efficiency with which she reported her duties spoke volumes. There was a quiet confidence in her presence, an air of professionalism that set her apart.

"Laurence, you're drooling." Garroth snickered. When did he make his way over here?

Tonight is just not his night for sneaky encounters.

"I was not," He scoffed as he cleaned his chin with the back of his hand, collecting no saliva. He may be a flirt, but he would never undress a lady with his eyes like that. "Why didn't you tell me we had a new guard. As your second in command, I'm hurt."

"With preparations for the party tonight, it must've slipped my mind."

"What's her name?" Laurence asked, his eyes never waved from that direction as she smiled at the villagers.

Garroth stared at him in amusement. "You are doing a very poor job at hiding your interest."

"Her name." He asked but firm this time.

Garroth, still amused, crossed his arms and looked at Laurence with a knowing grin. “Her name’s [Y/N] [L/N]. She’s been here for a few days now, but she’s been pretty focused on settling in and getting up to speed."

Laurence’s eyes flickered back to you, who was now chatting with some of the guests, her presence exuding both confidence and grace. “[Y/N],” he repeated as if trying to imprint the name alongside the image of her.

“Yes,” Garroth confirmed, still smirking. “And before you ask, she’s as capable as she is stylish. If you want to know more about her, you’ll have to get it from her directly. I hear she’s not easily impressed.”

Laurence gave Garroth a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I suppose that makes her all the more intriguing. I’ll have to make sure I have a chance to speak with her properly. It’s not every day we get a new guard who adds such a... distinctive touch to the uniform.”

With that, Laurence made his way through the crowd, occasionally glancing towards her as he navigated his way. That trek ran with an instant roadblock with his fangirls flocking towards him.

It only took him a few seconds of watching his step, a few seconds of looking away to lose you completely in the crowd.

It's been two weeks.

Two weeks had passed since that bustling party, and Laurence couldn’t shake the feeling that he had missed a significant opportunity.

His initial intrigue about the new guard, [Y/N] [L/N], had only grown stronger, though he hadn't managed to have a proper conversation with her.

He’d heard snippets of her reputation through the guards and townsfolk: she was not only a capable fighter but also someone who commanded respect effortlessly. Yet, despite his curiosity and admiration, he hadn't managed to find a moment to introduce himself properly.

The winter chill had settled in Phoenix Drop, and the village was blanketed with snow, making it a picturesque winter wonderland. As he walked through the snow-covered paths, the crunch of snow beneath his boots was a constant reminder of the cold season and the grim atmosphere it brought.

Today was gate duty.

Laurence sighed as he made his way to the main gate, the crunch of snow beneath his boots echoing in the quiet morning air. Gate duty was usually uneventful, especially in the winter when fewer travelers passed through the village.

He prepared himself for a long, monotonous shift.

"Thank Irene, my prayers have been answered." A voice broke through his consciousness as he reached the gate. "I was wondering when I would stop babysitting Dale during gate duty."

Laurence stopped in his tracks, startled by the unexpected greeting. He looked up to see [Y/N] standing at the gate, her breath forming small clouds in the frosty air. She had a playful smirk, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I don't believe that we've met."

Laurence was internally screaming with delight.

He finally, finally got the opportunity to talk to her. He cleared his throat, hoping his excitement wasn’t too obvious. "Laurence Zvhal, second head guard," he said, extending his hand.

Y/N] took his hand, her grip firm and confident. "I've heard a lot about you."

Laurence, ever the charmer, lifted her hand gently and kissed the back of it. "The pleasure is all mine," he said, winking playfully.

"[Y/N] [L/N], but I am starting to think, you already knew that." She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Is that your usual greeting for all the new guards?"

"Only to you, my dove," Laurence replied smoothly, releasing her hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

[Y/N] laughed, the sound brightening the chilly morning air. "Well, I’m glad to be here. And it’s nice to have some company for gate duty. I was getting tired of dealing with Dale being drunk while working."

Laurence chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, Dale can be a bit much sometimes. But it’s good to have someone reliable around... especially one so beautiful."

They settled into their posts, the morning light casting long shadows on the snow-covered ground.

The air was crisp, and their breath formed small clouds as they talked.

"So, how are you finding Phoenix Drop?" Laurence asked, genuinely curious.

"It's been great so far," [Y/N] replied, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Everyone's been welcoming, and the village has a certain charm to it."

Laurence nodded, appreciating her positive outlook. "Yeah, it does have a unique charm. I guess that’s what makes this place special."

[Y/N] smiled, her eyes reflecting the winter light. "It really does. Though, I have to admit, I’m still adjusting to the cold. It's a far cry from the warmer climates I’m used to."

"Ah, yes, the cold can be quite harsh," Laurence said, glancing at the snow-covered landscape. "But it's worth it to see the stranglehold of winter to be broken by spring."

"You seem to have a poetic side," She commented with a teasing smile. "Do you always speak like this, or is it reserved for special occasions?"

Laurence grinned, leaning slightly closer as if sharing a secret. "Only when I’m trying to impress someone."

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Is that so? And here I thought you were just being charming for the sake of it."

"Charming is my middle name," Laurence quipped. "It’s not every day I get to work alongside someone as intriguing as you."

"Yeah, yeah, Cassanova."

Their conversation flowed naturally, with [Y/N] sharing anecdotes from her past assignments and Laurence responding with his own stories from Phoenix Drop.

As they talked, Laurence felt the ease between them grow, the initial awkwardness melting away in the warmth of their shared laughter and exchange.

At the party, he had only caught fleeting moments of her voice amidst the crowd—like tantalizing hints of a melody he was desperate to hear in its entirety. Those snippets had been alluring, and captivating, and left him craving more.

But now, with [Y/N] speaking directly to him, it was as if he had been granted access to a symphony he had only heard in fragments.

The way she spoke, the melody of her words, and the passion behind them had an almost intoxicating effect on him. Each syllable seemed to lift him higher, wrapping him in a euphoric haze that dulled the edge of his usual burdens.

Her voice was a sweet nectar, and he was helplessly addicted.

He would find himself lost in the cadence of her speech, hanging on to every inflection and nuance. It was so easy to let the world outside fade away, to let the cold, the shadows, and the relentless calling from the Nether slip from his mind.

The dark thoughts and heavy memories that usually plagued him seemed to dissolve in the warmth of her presence. The suffocating weight of the countless drops of blood on his hands, the creeping darkness that threatened his sanity, and the ever-present struggle to retain his humanity all receded into the background.

In their place, there was only the enchantment of her voice, drawing him into a realm where his worries felt distant and irrelevant.

"So, what’s been the most challenging part of your new role?" Laurence asked, desperately trying for her to keep talking.

[Y/N] considered the question for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Everyone has their own way of doing things. I’m still figuring out how best to fit in while staying true to my own style."

Laurence nodded, understanding. "It can be tough finding that balance. But from what I’ve seen, you’re doing great. Your reputation precedes you."

[Y/N] smiled, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Thanks. That means a lot. And speaking of reputation, I’ve heard quite a few things about you too."

Laurence’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. "Oh? And what have you heard?"

"That you’re not only a skilled guard but also quite the sweet talker," [Y/N] said with a playful glint in her eye. "And that you have a knack for making even the dullest tasks seem interesting."

Laurence laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "Well, I try my best. And I suppose I’m just lucky to have such good company today."

[of-pale]

Grumpy ol’Vergil stirs by hearing a distant melody carried over on the breeze: *giddy kid gasp* ✨ABBA✨ 💖 Dancing queen🕺

Later on the same day.

Lady glares at Vergil lounging in a chair, reading a book: How can Dante let that psychopath back in his life so easily? I mean, who knows what evil schemes for power and world domination could he be hatching in that sick head of his at this very moment.

Vergil’s mind at that moment:

You are the Dancing Queeeen,

Young and sweeeet, only seventeeeen,

Dancing Queeeen, Feel the beeeat from the tambouriiiine, oh yeah~

You can daaaance, you can jiiive,

Having the time of your liiife, ooh~

Best part? The world may never know, as he thinks of it with a perfectly straight poker face.

[dualanya]

in the theme of character concepts, i finally plucked up the courage to draw my own characters from the novel i’ve been working on forever; here’s jasper, charlotte, gideon, and dante.

bonus; here’s what charlotte and jasper looked like when i drew them nine years ago. for a long time i felt like i wasn’t progressing with my art, so it’s nice to see an improvement!!

[pupsmailbox]

LOVECORE ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　adelaide. admirer. adora. adoraten. adore. ai. aiko. amadeus. amara. amor. amora. amore. amorette. amorie. amour. amoure. amourette. amy. angel. annabelle. aphrodite. arrow. atuf. bambi. bastet. bear. beau. bes. bliss. blossom. bow. bunny. caleb. candy. carwyn. ceri. charity. chelsea. cherie. cherria. cherrill. cherry. cheryshe. claire. clarissa. claudia. connell. connor. cordelia. crimson. cupid. dahlia. dante. david. delphine. desiree. desyre. dhalia. doll. dove. dylan. eldad. eros. esme. esme.cara. euphor. flower. freya. frill. garden. harp. hart. heart. heartstring. heretic. honey. honeybee. hubert. hugh. ingrid. iris. julia. julie. juliet. juliette. june. kalei. kara. kevin. kiss. koramor. lennon. lev. love. lovebird. lover. loverboy. lucinda. luvbelle. luvia. lynn. mabel. mabel.mila. mai. mars. may. maya. melody. milo. milos. mona. obi. ophelia. paramour. paris. passerine. passion. pearl. phillip. pippa. pippi. raymond. red. reed. reese. ren. rhett. rhys. roma. romanciel. romeo. rosalyn. rose. rosetta. rosette. rumor. sky. sugar. tahlia. teddy. thalia. theo. tyas. val. valen. valentina. valentine. valentino. valerie. vanessa. venus. vera. vincent. violet. vivian. vivianna. vivianne. yua. ásta. éowyn.

PRONOUNS ⌇　<3/<3. ado/adore. adore/adore. ae/aer. am/amour. bli/bliss. bouquet/bouquet. bow/bow. bud/bud. charm/charm. che/cher. cher/cherish. choco/chocolate. chu/chu. co/cora. coo/coo. cu/cupid. cu/cute. cupid/cupid. cute/cute. dar/darling. date/date. de/dear. de/devote. dear/dear. desi/desire. doe/doe. doe/dove. er/ero. ero/ero. eternity/eternitie. euphor/euphoria. fle/fleur. flower/flower. fri/frill. friend/friend. gift/gift. he/heart. he/hymn. hea/heart. heal/heal. heart/heart. hon/honey. hope/hope. hug/hug. hx/hxm. hy/hymn. h♡/h♡m. kie/kiss. kiss/kiss. kyuu/kyuu. lae/lace. lav/lavender. lo/love. love/bug. love/love. love/lovely. love/lover. lu/luv. lust/lust. luv/luv. myst/mystic. pass/passion. pink/pink. plu/plush. pray/pray. prince/prince. re/red. red/red. ri/ribbon. ro/rose. rose/rose. royal/royal. sacri/sacrifice. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. sh♡/h♡r. smitten/smitten. soft/soft. sweet/sweet. tear/tear. ted/teddy. thxy/thxm. th♡y/th♡m. tu/lip.| val/val. val/valen. val/valentine. valentine/valentine. ve/venus. vei/veil. veil/veil. vir/virtue. xo/xo. xoxo/xoxo. ye/yearn. yearn/yearn. ❤️ . 🌹 . 🍓 . 🍫 . 🍯 . 🍰 . 🎀 . 🏩 . 👑 . 💋 . 💍 . 💌 . 💐 . 💒 . 💓 . 💘 . 💝 . 💞 . 🤍 . 🦢 .

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Dante Agere Headcanons ໒ ˚⁎

Could you do regressor Dante dmc head cannons?

•Dante’s office becomes his sanctuary when he regresses. He has a special corner with a cozy blanket, stuffed animals, and a small box of snacks. Even though his office is usually chaotic, this corner remains untouched and safe, reserved just for his little space

•Dante’s regression is often triggered by memories of his childhood, especially when he thinks of his mother, Eva. These memories bring out a softer side of him, causing him to regress to a time when he felt loved and protected

•When regressed, Dante becomes incredibly playful. He loves making up games with whatever is around, whether it's sword fights with toy weapons, or pretending to be a superhero. His usual confidence turns into childlike exuberance, making everyone around him smile

•Pizza remains a favorite, even in his regressed state, but he also craves simpler foods like mac and cheese or sandwiches cut into fun shapes. Lady or Trish sometimes indulge him by preparing these meals, knowing it helps him feel grounded and cared for

•Dante finds comfort in Cerberus, the demonic weapon in his arsenal. He treats Cerberus almost like a pet when regressed, talking to it softly and even cuddling with it as though it were a giant, fluffy dog. Cerberus, in return, becomes more docile and protective when Dante is in this state

•Music has a calming effect on Dante. He enjoys listening to soft, classical tunes, or sometimes lullabies. He’ll often hum to himself when he’s in his regressed state, finding comfort in the rhythm and melody, and it helps him relax, especially after a tough battle

•Trish and Lady are his main caregivers. Trish is more gentle, often sitting with him, telling him stories, and ensuring he’s feeling safe. Lady, on the other hand, is more playful, engaging in light-hearted banter and playing games with him to keep his spirits up

•Despite his tough exterior, Dante has a small collection of stuffed animals that he keeps hidden in his bedroom. These stuffed toys are his companions during regressed moments, providing him with a sense of security. His favorite is a worn-out plush lion, which reminds him of his strength even when he’s feeling small

•When regressed, Dante enjoys drawing and coloring. He often draws pictures of his family, both as a way to remember them and to create happier versions of the past. His artwork is simple and childlike, often depicting him and Vergil playing together, or his mother with angelic wings

•In his regressed state, Dante becomes more sensitive to criticism. A harsh word or joke that wouldn’t normally bother him might make him retreat further into his little space. His friends and family are careful to be extra kind and gentle with him when they notice he’s in this state

•Dante seeks reassurance and physical affection when he’s regressed. Simple things like head pats, hugs, or someone holding his hand help him feel safe. He might cling to someone he trusts, like Trish or Lady, needing their presence to stay calm

•Dante’s regression sometimes stems from a deep-seated fear of being abandoned. In these moments, he can become clingy, following his caregivers around and needing constant reassurance that they’re not going anywhere. This is a reflection of the loss he’s experienced in his life, particularly with his mother and Vergil

•Dante’s regression is often triggered by overwhelming stress, intense battles, or reminders of his family. After a particularly tough fight, he might quietly retreat to his safe space, regressing to deal with the emotional toll

•If Vergil is around, he becomes surprisingly protective when Dante is regressed. Though Vergil might not fully understand the regression, he instinctively knows that Dante needs care. He’ll stay close, offering silent support and ensuring that no one disturbs his brother during these vulnerable moments

•When Dante regresses, he sometimes imagines the lesser demons he fights as "bad toys" or puppets that he needs to "put to bed." This makes fighting them less scary and more like a game to him, a way his mind copes with the violence he faces daily

•Dante sometimes turns his demon-hunting missions into playful games when he’s regressed. He imagines the demons are just "bad guys" in a make-believe adventure, making the intense battles seem less frightening and more like part of a game. He’ll excitedly report back to Trish or Lady about his "victory" looking for praise

•Dante has a secret hideout in the Devil May Cry office, a small, hidden room behind a bookshelf or under the stairs. It’s filled with comforting items like a nightlight, soft blankets, and a few well-worn toys. This space serves as his personal retreat when he needs to escape from the harsh realities of his life as a demon hunter

•After battling powerful demons, Dante often regresses due to the intensity of his nightmares. These dreams are filled with distorted memories of his past and his battles. In his regressed state, he seeks comfort from his caregivers or even Vergil, who might stay close to ward off the nightmares, though he’d never admit it aloud

•When regressed, Dante likes to play with miniaturized versions of his Devil Arms. These are harmless, toy versions that he imagines using in grand battles against make-believe demons. Sometimes, he’ll ask Trish or Lady to “help” him on his pretend missions, and they’ll play along, pretending to slay evil alongside him

•In his regressed state, Dante has an aversion to his demon form. The power and intensity are overwhelming, so he might instinctively suppress his demonic abilities, preferring to stay in his human form where he feels more like himself. Trish and Vergil both notice this and try to create environments that help him feel safe without needing to rely on his powers

•Dante’s signature guns, Ebony and Ivory, have toy versions that he plays with when regressed. These toys don’t shoot bullets, but instead, they might shoot harmless light or confetti ! Little Dante pretends he’s still fighting demons, but in a way that’s more fun and playful rather than dangerous

•When Dante is regressed, Nero often steps into a big brother role, despite their actual relationship dynamics. Nero might take Dante on little “adventures” within the office or the surrounding area, where they can safely explore and play. Nero secretly enjoys this time, finding it helps them bond in a way that isn’t possible during intense battles

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !