viridwns

[viridwns]

Sneak peek for the Chrollo fic I posted an idea about few days ago.

-

There.

To the untrained eye, it would appear the woman was wearing extravagant jewelry like any other woman prancing around the auctions, but Chrollo could spot the difference.

The difference between lavish gifts of diamonds from overly wealthy husbands and the stolen Napoleon Diamond necklace—or what was left of it—around a woman's neck.

Chrollo could almost laugh that it took him this long to notice. There she was, the woman who got the whole Yorknew auction in uproar for one single necklace, and she was wearing it in front of everyone.

He had to give it to her. She had him fooled to.

The necklace was chopped up into a pair of earings, a bracelet and a fairly modest necklace. Chrollo would've missed it if it wasn't for the distinct yellow tint it had. Something a normal person would only notice with a microscope, but Chrollo wasn't a normal person.

He watched the woman glide through the crowd with skill. She moved as though she was invisible, not a single eye on her. Except those of Chrollo, that is.

Her black dress flaunted her beauty, the jewelry complimenting the outfit. Chrollo would have never thought to be robbed and played by a single woman. One that wasn't easy to catch as well.

He questioned it she knew someone was observing her in this very moment. She seemed like a skilled enough thief to know.

Chrollo swished his flute of champagne; leaning against the wall of the auction room. The bidding would start soon and he was determined to catch the woman and prevent her from stealing his things for a second time.

His brows furrowed at the memory of the accident that happened days prior.

His plan was perfect. He had thought of everything. The phantom troupe should've brought back every single piece of items up for auctioning.

And they did, except for one necklace. Chrollo was furious he didn't notice the fake replacement immediately. It took him two days to find out he had been robbed.

It was his to steal, and he was determined to get that necklace in his possesion.

In the grand scheme of things the necklace had little to no importance, but Chrollo wasn't about to let someone take from the phantom troupe and let them get away with it.

So there he was, watching you prance around his necklace, waiting for your next move to absolutely obliterate you.

-

I love writing for Chrollo sm. His brain is just so eugh to figure out 😍.

[viridwns]

damn that thought you had of someone beating Chrollo to the chase of a heist, that would make such a great angst fic😮‍💨

Reader taking it up a notch and stealing from Chrollo himself😍

The man doesn't know if he's royaly pissed or head over heels.

[viridwns]

York New arc, but instead of the phantom troupe succeeding in their heist, another thief (you) swoops everything away from right under their noses, and Chrollo becomes obsessed with trying to catch you, but you are just too damn good.

[viridwns]

Yan!Muzan x F!reader (Yan!Akaza, Douma and Kokushibo x F!reader)

Warning(s): Yandere themes, descriptions of gore, reader getting the touch of that stockholm syndrome, manipulation, reader is in the trenches, gaslighting

WC: 2.6K

A/N: sorry for the long wait pookies. My grammar is probably horrible as well, but oh well.

Tags: @the-faceless-bride

Miscommunication masterlist

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance

Shut up shut up shut up—

Your fingers clench around the fabric that was covering your chest.

It was soaking wet; having absorbed most of the water that was percolating down your hair and skin.

Your heart, it was beating too fast. It was loud in your ears, and by the gods, it hurts.

You pushed yourself even deeper into the hollow trunk of a rotten tree. Your breaths were shallow and uneven.

Calm yourself, otherwise they will find you.

You tried to scare yourself into absolute silence, but you were already frightened enough.

You knew everything you did was too loud. With their inhuman sense of hearing and smell, this wouldn't cut it.

You hoped the deer blood that coated your body would suffice as a scent blocker. The still moist substance mixed with your sweat, tears, and even blood if you were unlucky enough to have cut yourself while running.

You begged that the dead of the innocent prey wouldn't be in vain.

Splinters dug into your abused flesh. You bit your lips and squeezed your eyes shut. All to keep a sob from spilling over your lips. You just had to wait for first daylight, the first few rays of sun. Then you would be free.

No,

Not even then.

You had to escape this hell bound country. Maybe then you could find peace.

It's mid summer already—it was still early autumn when I visited Japan.

Has it really been that long? You felt your hands starting to shake at the thought of having disappeared from the face of the earth for so long.

This was the first time you were successful in avoiding their grasp. All it took was pretending to play house with them and gain enough trust.

You had to hold yourself back when they allowed you to go outside the first time. It was hard not trying to leg it the first few walks, but it got easier over time when you were carefully working out your escape plan.

Muzan should be recovered by now.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity and feeling miserable, you stopped fighting them. They had been suspicious, which you expected them to be. It took you months to break the armor around Muzan and take his trust in your hands. You had twisted it, played with it, and made him think that you loved him. You felt yourself leaving your body whenever you sweet talked him, fed him delusions; it pained you too much to be mentally present.

You knew how keen Muzan was on having a routine. You gently merged your outside time in his regular schedule, so instead of having to beg to go outside, he almost forced you. It was routine, was it not?

It would be at dead of night when you walked through deserted woods. Taking in every path, every misplaced branch, anything that could make you recognize where you were. The number of monsters walking with you variated every night. Usually, it was all four of them. Sometimes, it started with just you and Muzan, and the rest joining mid walk.

The minute you saw the lake, your plan was set in stone. You subtly suggested cooling down in the water, already loosening your kimono a little. Douma answered with throwing you over his shoulder and almost teleporting to the lake.

The rest didn't really know the intent behind it. You were never this bold with them, certainly not bold enough to suggest skinny dipping.

Your lips were twitching due to having strained a smile for too long, but you had to pull through. Even when Douma had started to undress you, his fingertips adressing every curve with care, you pulled through.

This went on for weeks. It would have been suspicious if you wanted to go swimming every night—you just waited for Douma to suggest it again, which he did, a lot. Even Kokushibo made a subtle comment about it once.

But you knew tonight was the night to make all gears turn.

Muzan had been the one wanting to go for a swim. You had purposely riled him up the whole day long just so he would make this suggestion. A calculated action turning into a wanted outcome.

The other three were out on a mission, just like you had planned.

It was just him and you.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your lips on his, your mind out of your body.

Muzan was in a state of delirium when you cried his name, begged him for more. You knew what he liked, what he expected, and like no other night, you gave it all. You defiled yourself, made your body an object he could own.

Just for this one chance.

When he was at the peak of his high, when you knew his senses were jumbled and overloaded, you pushed a mouthful of wisteria into his mouth—death's kiss.

You were horrified when you saw Muzan’s face melt away, his skin detaching from his jugular, bones peeking through the bloodied mess. You felt his chest cave in—becoming mushy as the wisteria he swallowed spread through his body.

He let you go when realization kicked in. The adrenaline spurt you got from his shocked, betrayed expression was enough to get you out of the lake and deep into the woods.

It was pure coincidence that you found a dead fawn, but it was a welcomed surprise.

With left over wisteria deep in your soggy pockets, blood of an animal smeared over you, and the sky clearing up from the all consuming darkness, your plan was going as it should be.

The cracks of the rotten trunk provided you with limited view, but enough to see the surroundings getting clearer as more light seeped through the trees.

This was it, they couldn’t get you now. The sun was rising.

A laugh almost escaped you as you wondered how long it had been since you last saw actual daylight.

You let your heart rate spike, not out of fear this time, but out of relief and excitement as the world you’ve been fighting for all this time was at your feet.

Scenarios of you on a boat waving at your parents as the ship docked, running into their arms like you did when you were little and had been separated from them for too long.

You began to crawl out of the trunk, your hand almost touched a ray of light as voices reached your ears.

Your stomach lurched.

It was like the world froze over with how still you were. No noise came through to you except for the nearing voices.

You recognized them. Being locked up with only them for so long even had you remember how each of their footsteps sounded.

But how?

Tears started to well up in your eyes.

The sun was out, they can’t walk in the sun.

You turned your head ever so slightly, directly looking through a crack. You silently yelled as you watched the tree form shadows on the ground, a shield against the sun for monsters to hide in. You held your head, tugging so hard that you felt pieces of hair rip apart from your skull.

“I can’t sense her! She somehow covered her tracks.” Your heart almost stopped beating at the closeness of the voice.

Akaza.

This meant that Muzan called upon the others as well to hunt you down.

There was no time to panic, you had to get to a clearing. All hope was not lost yet.

You crawled further out the trunk, carefully assessing your surroundings. You had to stop yourself from gawking. You had forgotten how vibrant everything seemed in the daylight.

You felt your eyes sting, not used anymore to the reflecting sunlight on the world around you.

“The wisteria she has on her is blocking her presence.” A deeper, more gruff voice echoed. Kokushibo.

No time. You reminded yourself.

You climbed out the trunk, not without difficulty as your pants hooked behind the wood. You ripped it loose.

The voices came from your left, so you went the opposite direction.

It may be a given, but you were surprised how much stamina you had. Douma’s hunting trips (hunting you) were in your benefit after all.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins had a welcomed effect as well.

The forest got less dense with every step you took, more light seeped through the leafs. A good sign.

You felt your heartbeat drum in your ears, you couldn’t hear their voices anymore.

Hope filled you once again.

In the distance you spotted a very bright light, and you sped up. A clearing, that much light had to mean there was a clearing.

You were proven right the closer you got, for the first time in forever you saw the edge of this damned forest.

You were so lost in happiness that you let your guard slip.

A branch, invisible to your eyes as you were running, knocked the wind out of you as it collided with your face.

Warm hot liquid started to spurt out of your nose. You couldn’t help but groan in pain. A whimper leaving your lips as you tried to sit up.

Black spots clouded your vision and dizziness overtook you.

You had to move, but your body wasn’t ready to.

Fresh blood coated the browning dried blood on your face and clothes. You felt a hefty amount slide in your throat and you started to cough like crazy to get it out.

“I can hear you.” A taunting, childlike voice singsonged around you.

You held back a cry as Douma’s footsteps echoed somewhere in the forest.

You pressed your back against the tree that made all your hard work mean nothing.

You dug a hand in your pocket, hoping the left over wisteria would help you. Your heart sank as your fingers reached for nothing.

The wisteria was nowhere to be found. Only a large hole where your hand was peeking through.

You cursed yourself as you realized it must’ve ripped when you were in the trunk.

You knew your blockage was slowly fading. Your sweat, blood and heartbeat making you protrude from the rest of your surroundings.

“Come out of hiding, it’ll make things so much easier.” Douma had that same whine in his voice like he always did. Although you could sense an edge to his tone. He was taking this serious. That meant he still couldn’t fully locate where you were.

You still a sliver of a chance.

Silence fell over the haunting forest, you looked to your right. It would take a small sprint to get you of the umbra.

“Fine, so be it. I’m always a fan of a little cat and mouse game.” He said, further away this time.

No sign of the other demons’.

This was your chance.

You stood up, fighting the weariness that tried to hold down your body.

You could collapse later in the sun.

You let one more beat of silence pass as you readied yourself to make the fastest sprint known to mankind.

The face of your loved ones flashed through your mind and with that you set off.

A whirlwind of footsteps suddenly closed in behind you, but even if they were so fast it looked like they appeared from thin air, you were one step away from the sun.

“You’ll never escape.”

That voice, you almost didn’t recognize it.

It made you stop your movements—locking you up just one teeny tiny step away from the tree line.

You only had to stick your hand out to touch the rays of sun.

You looked over your shoulder to see Muzan standing there, the others behind him, further away from the light.

Your mouth fell agape. He was completely healed from the damage you had done. Except for the emotional part. You had never seen him desperate before. His brows were furrowed, but not in an angry manner. His lips were downturned and he had a hand reached out to you.

“Just one step to proof you wrong.” You said, determined—looking forward. You grit your teeth. Why wouldn’t you move. This is exactly what he wanted, for you to react to him.

“Are you sure?” He was testing you, putting a seed of doubt in your mind.

You shook your head and made a move to go into the clearing. You spotted a nice cottage in the distance. Laughter of children echoed through the field.

“I will kill every human in my way to get you back,” You freeze. Your hand was touching the light, it was warm and itchy, but in a nice way.

You didn’t reply. Muzan took a step closer, you heard his skin sizzling as it touched the slightest bit of sun.

“I will massacre every town, every city, this whole country if I have to” His voice was shaking, your hand was too.

“I will not rest, I will find you. If you escape this land, I will start raining hell upon yours. Your friends won’t be safe, your family won’t be safe until I have you at my feet again.”

The smell of burned flesh clogged your nose.

“Tell me, do you still remember how to speak your mother tongue?”  You let out a choked sob.

You hadn’t talked in your language for ages, and you haven’t even noticed up until now.

Muzan didn’t stop from watering the seed in your mind.

“Do you think your parents would even want you after all this? They probably already buried an empty casket to get over the loss of their daughter.”

“Stop it.” You cry. Tears falling freely over you cheeks.

“Do you want to awaken their grief again when you show up looking like their daughter, but not being the daughter they know,”

“I’m still the same, cut it out.” You whisper, your strength leaving your body as the seed turns into a tree.

“No you are not and you know it. You are just afraid to acknowledge it.” Muzan put a hand on your shoulder. It was warm, boiling, he was melting away under the sun. His voice was soft, like a mother’s lullaby.

“They would turn on you out there—the woman who lived with demons’. You bear our marks.” He traced his finger tips over the scars on your neck.

“The humans would hurt you. Your father wouldn’t even want to look at you. All he would see is the corrupt soul that took the seed of the devil himself.”

You watched a woman call for her children to get inside in the distance. A solemn smile spread across your features.

“I just want to be free.” You laugh lightly. Your voice was breaking as was your mind.

“I know.” Muzan held your waist and as the family went back inside their home you took a step back from the tree line.

You turned around, turning your back on the future you could’ve had.

It was too late for all that now.

Muzan was looking at you as he slowly lead you back in the depts of the umbra. You watched the burned patches on his skin regenerate.

“I want to go home.” You whisper. You were a mess. Covered in blood, mud, tears. Your clothes were battered, your hair was sticking to your face.

Everything hurt.

Including your heart as you came to accept your fate.

“I’ll take you there, my love.” Muzan mused as he placed a cold kiss to your forehead.

You felt the others gather around, it was the first time you didn’t cower away from their touch.

You embraced it instead.

A portal opened beneath your feet. The familiar maze of stairs, lights and walls made you sag in relief.

Muzan held you. Taking away all the warmth the sun had provided you in those few moments.

You fell within the confinement of his arms. You looked up, the bright light fading further and further away as you neared the ground and you wondered  what the word for sun was again in your language.

[viridwns]

How far are you into finishing Miscommunication p3?? :D ik you said you didn’t have motivation to finish it, so pls don’t feel rushed by this, I’m just curious! I’m so excited to see it when you’re done!!

Sorry for not answering, this got lost in my inbox.

Stay tuned for tomorrow 😈

[viridwns]

are you okay?

50/50.

Life's been a mess, don't really want to elaborate.

But it's been good as well, I'm trying to focus on that :)

[viridwns]

VIRIDWNSSSSSSSSS U POST PART 3 OF MISCOMMUNICATIONS AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSSSSSSSSSSS

I'm so sorry for the wait :(

It will be online this saturday (tomorrow for me).

Thank you all for the wait <3

[viridwns]

I've never been attracted to Cillian Murphy in my life, until I saw him play Jonathan Crane

[viridwns]

Hi, do you think Phantomhive MOM could escape Vincent and live a normal life if she managed to summon a demon like Sebastian or Hannah?

Really depends.

If she somehow manages to summon a demon (which is already downright impossible), she has to make a deal with it in exchange for her soul.

If her deal is something like: "You need to protect me from my husband and anyone he's familiar with," then I'd say chances are pretty high she'll be free, partly.

But Undertaker is also in the picture, and he's stupidly powerful. He could kill mom's demon if he put his back into it. I mean, Sebastian wasn't able to get his ass more than once, so unless he's eliminated, having a demon won't do jackshit.

The 'selling her soul' part is also a huge part of this. She wants to be free. Selling her soul means just another cage, and we know how manipulative demons are. She'd probably get killed in a year.

So her summoning a demon won't do much good, really. She would also have to deal with blood on her hands of an innocent person.

Cuddling with Vincent seems less harmless.

[viridwns]

Can I get a fic about kidnapped reader and yandere Chrollo on a road trip of some kind and she’s like “let me get the aux” because let’s face it Chrollo’s taste in music is not gonna be road trip friendly and she’s just like jamming out to like Sexxy Red and Doja Cat and Flo Rida? Like I feel like that’s the complete opposite type of music he would listen to and she’s over there having a whole concert

Yan!Chrollo lucilfer x reader

Warning(s): mild cussing, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, one sentence is about implied dubcon

A/N: Quick drabble to try and get out of my writing slump. Too lazy to check for errors, sorry pookies.

WC: I honestly dk, I wrote this on my mobile😭

Antithetical

You loathed car rides with Chrollo. His 'work' forced him to travel a lot, meaning road trips that would usually exceed six hours with no rest stops or pee breaks to avoid being spotted by the wrong people.

Only if you were bursting—on the verge of kidney poisoning—would Chrollo force you to do your business in some random bushes alongside the road.

The close proximity of the metal box had you pushing yourself as far as you could against the door—enjoying the cool steel against your boiling skin.

It was well into summer, and even though you only wore a loose T-shirt from Chrollo and way too large gym shorts, your body didn't seem to regulate the heat.

Chrollo, the non-human that he is, didn't seem bothered by the blazing sun in the slightest. Wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black, wide-legged trousers secured by a just as dark belt.

You could not spot one drop of sweat on his sickly pale skin.

The AC of the car was blasting in your face, helping a great deal to chase away the uncomfortable warmth. The noise it made was loud, but still not loud enough to overpower the radio.

Chrollo was a control freak through in through. You were used to it by now, but you hadn't expected it to extend all the way to what music was playing in the car.

Car rides with Chrollo were already unbearable. He was a macho driver, thinking you would fall head over heels if he parked with one hand, but even though he tried to look tough, he drove like a grandma—he didn't want any attention, getting pulled over or driving too noticeable could mess up his plans. He also had the need to have one hand rest on your thigh for the whole entirety of the ride, be it five minutes or fifteen hours. He loved prodding at your mind in these long hours; asking you deep and personal questions that would have you reeling by the end of the drive.

But the one thing that icked you the most was his taste in music.

These rides could be long—this one a nice thirteen hours from the last place he kept you—and sleeping could only cover half, if not less. You needed a distraction from the man next to you and his tongue; blasting some good tunes for example.

Für Elise wasn't one of those tunes.

Chrollo had a thing for classical music; befitting his dark academia style as he also loved to read older literature and collect antiques.

And you didn't mind it most of the time—you had to admit that some songs were enjoyable to listen to.

But not for thirteen hours on end.

With one-fourth of the journey done, no desire to sleep, and Chrollo humming along to his playlist, you finally had enough.

"Chrollo, can I have the aux?" You asked, head slightly turning to look at the raven haired man while still holding your place in front of the AC.

You had asked Chrollo this question multiple times, but he always found a way to go around it.

Chrollo squeezed your thigh, making you press yourself further against the door.

His eyes remained focused on the road, but his grin was a tell-tale sign that this was going to be a mind war again.

"And why do you want that?" He replied, turning the radio down a tat to hear you better.

You sighed.

"Because we've been listening to your music since the beginning of the trip." You sat up straight when Chrollo started nodding along with your words.

"Okay, but this music is relaxing. It doesn't distract me from the traffic around me. You don't want us to end up in an accident, no?" He said, sparing you a quick glance.

You pursed your lips.

It was hard to pinpoint where he used manipulation tactics exactly in your conversations.

You were able to pick it up rather quickly now, though.

You turned to him, lips in a thin line.

"Chrollo, this is torturing my ears." You pointed at the radio to emphasize your meaning.

He laughed.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused"

You gave him a sharp glare as he lightly rolled his eyes.

You had to give him a challenge of sorts. You knew he liked the thrill of those—the need to prove that he is capable of overcoming anything in his way.

"You're so dramatic about other people's music tastes. You hate listening to anything other than your own playlist. You don't even know other music genres," you started, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping in the passenger's seat.

As you were about to speak again, Chrollo interjected.

"Rock, Indie, metal, pop, electronic, blues, jazz—should I continue?"

He smiled as he faced you for a second before looking at the road again.

"Nice try, love, but implying that I don't know something is a dead give away of your schemes." Chrollo mused, patting your thigh.

He was mocking you, he saw right through your plan. You were stupid to think you could outwit him.

One day though.

One day you will.

You grumbled before slumping back in your seat, craning your neck to meet the frigid wind of the airconditioner.

The car was silent now except for the violins harmonizing on the radio. You were mere seconds away from taking the wheel and crashing the vehicle just for a few seconds of peace.

Chrollo sighed. You perked up at this. He wasn't too keen on already having you on edge this early in the trip. Every time that happened, you two would fight every day because you were petty like that.

He hands you his phone. You slowly take it with a quirked brow as your straighten your back.

"Fine, go ahead then."

You peer at him, suspicion running high.

"This isn't a trick?"

"No."

"I'm not getting in trouble if I change the music?"

"No."

"I don't have to give you a blow job while you're driving if I do this?"

"If you insist—"

You push the phone his way. Chrollo laughs before throwing you a wink. He nudges the device back with his shoulder.

"There are no catches here. I swear. Play your music."

You throw him uncertain glances as you open the music app; one of the only apps it had. He had bought this phone with you in mind. Shalnark modified it, so only Chrollo's number was on it, and no other numbers could be dialed. It also contained a few games. Like uno, you played that online with a few of the other phantom members. It kept you sane when you were locked in and alone for days on end.

You scrolled through your playlists, Chrollo only had one, and that was the 'liked songs' album.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you clicked your 'God better not see this one' list.

You could only feel a little victorious as you watched Chrollo's face sour when boss bitch by Doja Cat blasts from the radio.

You scream the lyrics in his face as you start moving your arms with the rhythm of the music.

It felt so good to just jam out to your songs for once. You ignored the pointed look of Chrollo when the next number that came on was CPR by CupcakKe.

A twinge of happiness tugged at your heart as you realized Chrollo would suffer a hundred times more in these few hours than you did and probably will do in all the carrides that have and will happen.

At least that was what you thought, but as you were about to bellow 'I save dick by giving it CPR' in your kidnapper's ear, he was looking at you with this love sick expression.

Eyes twinkly, stupidly handsome smile on his face and a total lack of concentration of his surroundings.

You felt your stomach lurch, and without a second thought, you put on the four seasons by vivaldi; almost breaking the screen in process.

You dropped the phone on your lap and crossed your arms. Your good mood only lasted three seconds before Chrollo decided to throw acid over it.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his eyes to the road.

You felt stupid for buying his lies once again.

"You planned that, didn't you." It was more a statement than a question that came out of your mouth as you pushed your back against the cardoor.

Chrollo hummed as his hand found your thigh again, continuing his finger tapping along with the music.

You huff.

That was all you could do in response to him.

One thing was for certain: you would never play your music again, even if Chrollo begged you to.

[viridwns]

Hi I'm just wondering in mom au if how would be the reaction of the father and the mom when they first see the twin the moment they were born?

The doctor did assume twins before they were born. In the later stages he could clearly see and feel that that was an extra person in that belly.

Vincent was just overjoyed, maybe a bit jealous that he had to share his wife with one more baby boy.

He was a bit scared as well. Even though he keeps mom in top health, there was always a risk that she wouldn't make it through childbirth. Two babies only increased those chances.

Putting those thoughts aside, he was happy to have another kid. It wasn't only good for his status, but is was yet another thing to keep mom bound to him.

Mom was in shambles. It was her first pregnancy. She was already scared of childbirth, and now she had to push out two!

The thought that she would have to deal with either two small Vincents' or two kids who also have to deal with their unhealthy dad.

She was stressed, unhappy, and her sanity was slowly chipping away.

Maybe on the bright side, she wouldn't have to carry anymore of Vincent's kids. Two would be enough for him, right?

Or maybe she could nurture them and have them overtake Vincent when they were older, since one of them was going to take the 'earl' status and therfore its power.

Mom was confused about how to feel. It switches almost every day. She was terrified one day, very loving the next, depressed the other. It was a whirlwind.

She learned to love them in her own twisted way. At the end of the day, they were still her flesh and blood.

[viridwns]

Regarding the Phantomhive mom au, i've been wondering how the mom will deal with the marriage of his sons. Will she have a breathe of air or she will be reluctant about it?

The relationship of mom and the twins is complicated.

She loves them in a way because she did birth them, took care of them and they aren't horrible to her 100% of the time.

In the first few years of their lives, they were just sweet and innocent babies who didn't know what their dad had done to their mom.

She hoped they would stand up against Vincent, but alas.

So when they both get their respective partner and both get betrothed, the only thing she prays for is that they aren't treating their wives like Vincent treats her.

And they don't! They are pretty good husbands.

While [redacted], or as a follower suggested I call him Sirius (one of the theorized names), does live somewhere else, not too far of course, Ciel owns the estate after he became earl.

Normally the parents would move to another house, but in this case no. That will not happen, ever.

Maybe if Vincent wants some alone time they go to this tiny cottage on the outskirts of London where they are completely and utterly alone.

So Ciel is still with her all day every day, but he's swamped with work most of the time.

Sirius tries to visit as much as he can, but he has a toy store to run.

So yes, it's quite a breath of relief when they get married. They actually behave more like normal sons' now that they have a wife and own businesses. They don't have time to obsess over their mother with all these new responsibilities.

The mom is quite content with all this. The only dark side is, is that Vincent has nothing to worry about anymore. No business trips, no social events, no nothing. He can spend all his time with his wifey.

[viridwns]

IM SO EXICTED FOR THE NEXT PART OF MISCOM BRO ACC LIKE IM GRIPPING THE WALLS EVERYDAY JUST WAITING

anyways i rlly hope darling escapes

Ahhh I'm so sorry it isn't out yet!

I just do not have the motivation to finish it, but I haven't discarded it. So don't worry, it will be out someday🫠

[viridwns]

Hi. Regarding the Phantomhive MOM AU, I am curious but how would Vincent react if the reader was kidnapped and being held hostage. Would he panic or be in tranquil fury? In my mind’s eye, I just see the reader being relieved she’s finally outside, baffling her kidnappers.

Believe it or not, but he would be terrifyingly calm.

Don't let his demeanor fool you, though, because inside, he is raging.

Once he hears the news about your kidnapping, the only indication of his fury is his twitching fingers and his cold, empty stare ahead.

He's sending out orders to everyone, using his eyes and ears over the whole of London to locate you.

Vincent will stop at nothing to have you back and hurt everyone that was in the complot, even the underpaid paper boy who made you stray from the people he hired to protect you.

He knew you had a weakness for children in need, and he had told you it would be your downfall.

But you never seem to listen to him.

Vincent has the location of your whereabouts in two days max. This man has connections all over London, even the queen would help him with this if he asked.

It's just plain stupid to mess with the Vincent Phantomhive.

But some people are desperate for money, and using you for ransom seemed like an easy way to get lots of it.

They never thought that taking you would be this easy. You practically jumped into their car.

You're just in awe of the outskirts of London, not having been there since your marriage.

The kidnappers watch in confusion as you settled yourself in the abandoned farmhouse they took you to.

Your only request was to pet their dobberman guard dog. An animal most people feared and you just cuddled with.

Your argument was that Vincent didn't allow you to keep pets as you would give the animals too much attention.

You enjoy your few hours of Vincent free time, but it is short-lived as the place is ransacked and Vincent comes prancing in, stepping over a few bodies to go and untie you.

Vincent is quick to check up on you, assessing your body for any kind of wounds or bruises. If you're fine, he would be so mad at you. Saying that if you had just stayed with your assigned bodyguards, or if you had just listened to him for once, he wouldn't need to go through all this trouble.

Say goodbye to your outside time because you will be locked inside for at least one month. For your own protection, of course.

Vincent isn't angry with you for long, though. Once night falls, he's clinging to you like a baby koala. The stress of not having you by his side finally catching up to him as he falls asleep cradled in your arms.

He may seem calm and collected, but at the end of the day, he's just a big baby when with you.

[viridwns]

Are you going to continue writing for the mom AU? I really love it and hoping see more of it, just couldn't get enough.

Passing by to tell you it was a piece of art! I tried reading other Vincent x Reader but yours just made a great appeal that I'm looking for something similar to it 🥲

PLEASE MY HEART IS MELTINGGG.

I can't handle such big compliments, ily sm.

I have 2 drafts saved rn, one MOM!AU and one DAUGHTER!AU. Idk when I'll finish them tho, I'm currently very focused on my KNY work.

Thank you again for the love. It really motivates me <333

[viridwns]

“The fruits” by Paris Paloma would fit Miscommunication reader well, I think ^^

It does! The reader being deviled by the demons, being a 'sinner' stuck in an abusive relationship with no escape.

Some think the meaning of the song is that men only see evil in women and perceive themself as holy or above evil; even tho the man is the one doing all these horrible things to the woman. This is so Muzan coded. He sees himself as a higher being, expecting absoluut obedience, and he frankly does not think he's wrong in what he's doing, ever. He instead blames the reader for all the things he does to her.

Thank you for sending me this. It brings me new insights as well🫶

I love Paris Paloma sm.

[viridwns]

Hii omg I love your writing and miscommunication!! I haven’t read any fic like that in a while!! Could you do a pt 2 to your mannequin story? Currently obsessed with it :3

STOPPP ILY. Thank you <3

Could you please specify what you mean with p2? Do I need to go in on what Muzan and the others do to reader?