gh0stly911x

[gh0stly911x]

Midnight Illness

Hi how have u guys been? I've been feeling sick so I thought on doing this little imagine.

Synopses: Just Dante taking care of reader in the middle of the night.

Pairing: Dante x reader

Warnings: vomiting mentioned

The night was still, save for the soft rhythm of the ceiling fan spinning overhead. The apartment was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of Dante shifting beside you. He had been working late, as usual, and you had drifted off to sleep, your body curling against the warmth of his side.

But in the middle of the night, you woke with a sharp, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. A wave of nausea hit you, making your throat tighten. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore it. Maybe it was just a bad dream, maybe a passing moment. You reached for the glass of water on your nightstand, hoping it would settle your stomach.

Taking a slow sip, you placed the glass back and lay down again, but that didn’t help. If anything, the feeling only worsened. Your stomach churned violently, and a cold sweat broke out on your forehead.

The sudden wave of urgency caught you off guard, and you scrambled out of bed, your feet stumbling as you made your way to the bathroom. But the moment you reached the sink, your body betrayed you. You leaned over, and before you could brace yourself, you were throwing up, your stomach convulsing in discomfort.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps behind you until you felt Dante’s hand on your back, steadying you as you retched. His voice was low, concerned.

"Hey, hey, easy," he murmured, the calmness of his tone belying the worry in his voice. "You alright?"

You wiped your mouth weakly, your head spinning. "I… I don’t know… I feel awful," you rasped.

Dante didn’t hesitate. He helped you sit up, his hand pressing against your back, and reached for the small towel he kept in the bathroom for moments like this.

"Yeah, I can tell," he said softly. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he gently wiped your face. "You’ve been sick for a while now, huh? Should’ve noticed."

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, but his words made your heart swell with a warmth you couldn’t quite explain. Despite his teasing nature, Dante was always there when you needed him—no questions, no hesitation.

"Come on, let’s get you back to bed," he said, lifting you with surprising gentleness. You felt dizzy, but his arm around you was steady, his touch reassuring.

He helped you back to your side of the bed, pulling the covers up around you. He didn’t leave, though. He stayed there, sitting next to you as you tried to get comfortable.

"You’re not getting rid of me that easy," he said with a soft grin, even though you could hear the edge of concern in his voice. "I’ll stick around until you feel better."

You nodded weakly, your eyes closing as you tried to rest, his presence a grounding force in the storm of discomfort you were battling.

Dante’s hand found yours, and despite everything, you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. You weren’t alone.

"Thanks," you whispered, barely audible.

"Anytime, babe," he replied, his voice tender. "Just rest. I’m here."

[gh0stly911x]

My red flag? Thinking I could make all my favorite characters fall in love with me.

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POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT

Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻

[gh0stly911x]

Losing your favorite fanfic feels more painful than going through a breakup😭🥀

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you know what.

I am so fucking tired of rape fics. I am a sexual assault survivor and you sexulise rape. why. why do I work so hard to get better and it all get ruined by some horny asshole just like last time. THESE CHARATERS DONT WANT TO RAPE YOU. rape is horrible, its NOT sexy. its traumatizing. why do you keep talking about it and writing about it. STOP MINIMIZING MY PAIN WITH YOUR DERANGED FANTASIES.

Simon Riley isnt a rapist

Leon Kennedy isnt a rapist

and belive it or not Jonathan Crane ISNT A FUCKING RAPIST

dont tell me not to kink shame

do not tell me to skip it

you cannot tell me that my trauma doesn't matter

STOP WRITING RAPE FICS

[gh0stly911x]

Scars benith the silk

hii! so i saw this tiktok video with a beautiful vintage dress and i had to write something about it.

warnings: reader with insecurities, scars, dante being a sweetheart comforting us (this one is not a warning).

The mission was set: infiltrate a high-end jazz club rumored to be a front for demonic activity. Dante had insisted on a more "discreet" approach this time, suggesting you blend in rather than stand out.

As you stepped into the bathroom to change, you hesitated. The dress was beautiful, but it also revealed more of your skin than you were used to. Scars from past battles and traumas marred your arms and back, reminders of a life you wished you could forget.

You stood before the mirror, all dressed up, hair tied up. You stoped looking at your form in the mirror, tracing the lines of your scars with trembling fingers. Dante had never seen you like this—vulnerable, exposed. What if he saw you as damaged? What if he couldn't look at you the same way again?

Just as you were about to change back into your usual attire, the bathroom door creaked open. Dante's voice, warm and teasing, filled the space.

“You gonna keep me waiting out here all night, or are you… planning to d-dazzle me with that dress…?”

You froze, heart pounding. You hadn't expected him to come in. Before you could respond, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning your form, he too was dressing something more formal with his shirt open at the collar. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Dante POV:

She standed there in a vintage glamour wrapped in danger. Champagne slip dress clung to her frame, silky and seductive, whispering with every movement. A strand of pearls draped carelessly around her neck. Black tights gave her legs a shadowed edge, the softness of the look clashing deliciously with the silent power she exuded. Lips painted red, curls pinned up with effortless chaos—she wasn’t dressed to impress. She was dressed to own the room, and leave it smoldering in her wake. He's eyes dragging over every inch of her sight.

Reader POV:

Then, Dante took a slow step toward you, his gaze softening.

“You look... so beautiful” he murmured, voice low and sincere. “That dress… fuck that dress on you… you look like something out of a dream."

His words, genuine and filled with admiration, melted the walls you'd built around yourself.

“You don't think i’m not as beautiful as the womans in the magazines, with the skin as precious and translucent as a crystal, shining in the light. No marks , no cracks, no shadows hiding in the cornersof their smiles, no…” You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly wiped away by his thumb.

“Hey,” he said gently, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. “Those scars? They’re part of what makes you... you. They don’t change how I see you. They make you stronger, more beautiful. And those woman don't even get to your feet.

His words, simple yet profound, eased the knot in your chest. You realized then that Dante didn't see your scars as flaws; he saw them as badges of your resilience.

“Shall we go show the world just how stunning you are?”

With a soft smile, Dante extended his arm.

You took his arm, feeling a surge of confidence. Before leaving off the doors of the shop you wore a heavy faux-fur coat in deep espresso brown, shrugged halfway down your shoulders. Together, you stepped out into the night, ready to face whatever challenges awaited—knowing that, with Dante by your side, you were never truly alone.

_ _ _

As you and Dante entered the dimly lit jazz club arm in arm, the ambiance was a stark contrast to the chaos you often faced. The soft glow of chandeliers cast delicate shadows, and the gentle hum of a live band playing smooth jazz filled the air. Patrons in elegant attire sipped on cocktails, unaware of the demonic presence lurking beneath the club's sophisticated veneer.

Dante, ever the professional, adjusted his collar and surveyed the room. His usual cocky demeanor was tempered with a rare seriousness. "Stay close," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "We don't know who or what we're dealing with tonight."

You nodded, your hand brushing against his as you moved deeper into the club. The mission was clear: identify and neutralize the demonic threat without drawing attention. But as you navigated through the crowd, your insecurities began to surface.

The dress, though stunning, felt like a spotlight on your vulnerabilities. The fabric clung to your form, accentuating every scar, every imperfection. You could feel the weight of every gaze, real or imagined, upon you.

Dante seemed to sense your unease. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Ignore them," he whispered. "You're the most beautiful person in this room."

His words, though comforting, couldn't quell the storm of self-doubt brewing inside you. But you pushed forward, focusing on the task at hand.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere shifted. The music became more erratic, and the patrons' behavior grew increasingly erratic. Dante's eyes narrowed, his hand subtly resting on the handle of his sword. "It's showtime," he muttered.

Without warning, demonic entities materialized from the shadows, their grotesque forms disrupting the once peaceful setting. The club erupted into chaos as patrons screamed and fled. Dante drew his sword with practiced ease, engaging the demons with swift, lethal precision.

Drawing your weapon, you joined the fray, your movements fluid and determined. The demons were formidable, but together, you and Dante made an unstoppable team.

As the last demon fell, the club fell silent once more. The patrons, though shaken, were unharmed. Dante sheathed his sword, turning to you with a grin. "Not bad," he said, his tone teasing yet sincere.

You allowed yourself a small smile, the adrenaline of the battle still coursing through your veins. "Thanks," you replied, your voice steady.

As the authorities arrived to handle the aftermath, you and Dante slipped away, retreating to the quiet of your shared space. The adrenaline faded, leaving a comfortable silence between you.

Dante sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor. "You were amazing tonight, so gorgeous in that dress" he said, his voice soft. "I couldn't have done it without you” he lift your hand giving a gentle kiss in the back.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze. "I couldn't have done it without you either" you admitted, smiling softly.

He smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "We make a great team," he said, his hand finding yours. "And you're more than just a partner in battle. You're my equal, in every way."

[gh0stly911x]

My first time writing, I hope you like it. English is not my first language.

“Between Blades and Heartbeats” - Dante Sparda x Reader

Ruins of a desecrated cathedral. The night is heavy, the shattered stained glass lit by the pale moonlight. Debris and blood stain the marble floors. You and Dante just wiped out a horde of demons.

---

You spin your blades, panting. A tear in your coat reveals a scraped shoulder. Dante leans casually against a column, wiping demon blood off Rebellion.

Dante: (smirking) I was starting to think tonight would be boring. But you sure know how to make an entrance.

You: (raising a brow) And you sure know how to nearly die three times in ten minutes. Trying to impress me, or are you just that reckless?

Dante: (chuckling) Bit of both. Worked though, didn’t it?

(He winks.)

You: (rolling your eyes but suppressing a smile) Worked just enough for me not to let you bleed out.

A guttural roar shakes the cathedral. A monstrous demon — a chimera of bone and shadow — emerges from the altar.

You: (drawing your weapon) Great. Dessert's here.

Dante: (grinning, raising Rebellion) Ladies first?

You: (charging forward) Only if you can keep up… and try not to die this time.

---

The battle ignites. You dodge under its claws while Dante leaps overhead, blades flashing. Your rhythm is perfect: attacks in sync, banter between blows, adrenaline and smirks shared like war paint.

---

The monster falls. You drop onto the cathedral steps, breathing hard. Dante flops down beside you, grinning.

Dante: You know... If we survive one more week of this crap, I’m taking you out for pizza. No demons. Just us.

You: (not looking at him) Only if you’re paying. And promise me you won’t use your sword as a fork again.

Dante: (laughing) Deal. But fair warning... I suck at first dates.

(He glances sideways at you, smirking.)

Second ones, though? Unforgettable.

You: (finally cracking a smile) Guess you’ll have to live long enough to prove it.

---

Days later in Dante's office we're finishing paperwork for a completed mission. You’re cleaning your weapons. Dante is leaning against the counter, chatting with a pretty blonde you just saved. She laughs at something he says. Too loudly.

You shoot a glance from across the room. Her hand grazes his arm. Your grip tightens.

You: (cold) Hiring assistants now, Dante? Thought you preferred demon hunters to damsels in distress.

Dante: (turning to you, raising a brow) Just being polite. She wanted a safe way out of the city.

You: (dry) Oh sure. And her hand slipped onto your bicep by accident, huh?

He chuckles and walks toward you, casual but focused. He stops just in front of you.

Dante: What, you jealous?

You: (looking away) Me? Of you? Please. I’d rather kiss a demon’s ass.

Dante: (serious now, voice lower) Then why’d you look like you were ready to kill her when she smiled at me?

You: (quiet, tight) Because I’m tired of watching everyone treat you like some pretty toy with a sword.

(You glance up.)

I know what’s under all that charm.

He gently takes your wrist. It’s the first time he touches you like this — no jokes, no games.

Dante: (soft) You see the real me. And that... scares the hell out of me.

You: (holding his gaze) Then stop running.

You leave the room leaving him thinking behind ignoring his calls.

---

You're in the back room of the shop where you going to sleep the night. Rain lashes the windows. Lightning flashes now and then, painting the walls with silver.

---

You sit on the bed, cleaning the dried blood off your arm. Dante leans in the doorway, watching you. The silence is electric.

Dante: (low voice) So, still avoiding me?

You: (without turning) Are you still pretending none of it mattered?

He walks over. His hand finds your shoulder, fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness you didn’t expect from him.

Dante: (quiet) It mattered. More than it should.

You: (spinning to face him) Then stop thinking. Show me.

He kisses you, fierce and raw. The tension breaks — like lightning splitting sky. Clothes fall like armour no longer needed. You pull him onto the bed, mouths never parting.

Dante hovers over you, eyes locked onto yours. For once, there’s no smirk — just heat, and something painfully real.

Dante: (hoarse) If I cross this line... I won’t want to go back.

You: (pulling him in) Then don’t.

The world outside doesn’t exist right now. It’s just the two of you. Bodies pressed together, scars and skin, pain and pleasure woven into every touch. He’s rough and careful, you’re fierce and open. There’s no fear left — only surrender.

---

Hours later, the storm has quieted. You lie against his chest, fingers tracing a scar along his collarbone.

Dante: (murmuring) If someone told me that a beautiful woman would knock the wind outta me like this…

(He kisses your forehead.)

…I’d call ‘em crazy. And yet, here we are.

You: (softly) Still breathing, aren’t you? Guess it wasn’t all bad.

Dante: (pulling you closer) Stay. One more night... or the rest of your life.

(*He smiles faintly.*)

Whichever hurts less.

[gh0stly911x]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

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oh to be 13 years old again and stay up late reading fanfiction

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SOME of y'all need to fucking STOP with tagging your ugly ass oc fics into x readers‼️‼️ Like if you can write thousands of fanfic words I'm GODDAMNED SURE you can tell the difference between OC and READER.

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Me when y/n is acting like a little fucking child for male validation

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why are all of the character x reader tags going through a dry spell rn? 😭 either there’s no engagement or there’s no content :(

Edit: Imma just leave my two cents about this here, I think the main issue is the media most people consume. smut and smau tend to get the most traction, but not everyone knows how to write good booty tickling smut or smaus

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when the fic has such a good concept and plot line but y/n keeps bawling her eyes out every minute crying to her man🙁 i need a y/n that can hold herself together and fight a MAN with her fists only.

i need a wanda maximoff, a jade west, a natasha romanoff BLACK WIDOW… A GAMORA type reader

[gh0stly911x]

Big strong men who become clingy and pathetic when they're sick who need you to take care of them

interact if you agree

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When you're reading an x reader fanfic but suddenly your name is Rachel

Not mad, just confused

[gh0stly911x]

Me when i dont see any Spoke x reader ffs from tokyo override: please watch tokyo override on Netflix

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When you're trying to find plot but you keep seeing porn without plot