#I’m watching the revenant

[daincrediblegg]

I love you wilderness survival stories. I love you breakdown of social order that gives credence to what truly matters in the face of the wild untamed and unknown. I love you exposure of colonialist imperialist and capitalist hubris and christian morality. I love you stank and stubborn bitches who absolutely refuse to fucking die against absolutely bleak and incomprehensible odds completely against the will of the horror they have witnessed at the hands of mortal men and at the hand of forces far beyond their mortal means to control. I love you. Never change gorgeous <3.

[new-revenant]

Itssss bingo time. I wanna interact with you guys on a bit more casual(?) level. Already did this a while back for my other fandom, but I wanna do it here now

Send me a DP character and/or ship and I’ll fill out a little square on here. DPxDC and other crossover ships are also welcome.

[diamantdog]

what i learned from watching revenant episode 1 is i’ve been living my life right by never accepting guests and never answering phone calls 😌

[loveinthestars]

More secrets about the mom are coming out! Gahh why did the video have to freeze the second she used the mirror to look behind her 😭

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hello fen! my beloved! it is ominoose ! obligatory ily mwah! also any chance of some non smut romantic blue ? :)

ILY MWAH RIGHT BACK! And of course, it's always simping for Blue hours in my mind.

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi•requestinfo •

Warnings: overuse of italics, extremely soft Blue, references to previous sexy times, kissing, pet names, badly proofread, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1085

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Blue’s in a foul mood. 

You knew that before he’d thrown the whisky glass against his office wall (you weren’t there at the time, but you’d heard about it after). You knew before Sabby’s hushed whispers reached you about the screaming fit he’d had. You knew before you’d seen his goons running around like panicked headless chickens. 

Some money had gone missing. A lot of money. 

A lot, a lot, a lot of money. 

So you’re a little on edge when Gorski tells you to go see him. That he’s requested you. It doesn’t exactly fill you with sunshine and rainbows. 

You knock on his office door gently, entering when he calls and shut the door softly behind you. 

You’re not sure what you're expecting. Rage. Shouting. Ranting. But it wasn’t this. 

He’s standing close, his shoulders slumped, his bottom lip pouting outwards ever so slightly. His eyes look red and glassy, not drunk or high, but on the verge of tears. 

“Baby,” he says with a sniffle and holds his arms out to you.

You swallow in surprise and move towards him quickly, reaching your hands out for him. Blue sighs as he holds you in a soft embrace, squeezing needily but being overly careful not to cause any discomfort. 

“Blue,” you speak softly, moving back a little to see his face and stroke his cheek. “You okay?” You know he’s not. But you ask anyway. 

He shakes his head and presses closer to your hand, kissing your wrist and hugging you tightly before he sniffles into your neck. “Horrible day.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You stroke his back soothingly. 

He’s taken off his jacket and tie, you can see them discarded messily on his desk. Not folded neatly like his usual routine. 

“It’s okay.” He leans back and smiles, his voice thick and tired. He strokes your cheeks, your neck. His actions are soft, revenant. Not the needy grips and tight squeezes you're used to. 

“Come and sit with me?” The question in his voice surprises you. It sounds painfully genuine. 

You nod as he leads you to the plush sofa, keeping his hand in yours and rubbing his thumb against your skin. 

When you sit he pulls you carefully into his arms, leaning back and encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

It’s oddly comfortable being held like this, being so close to him without part of him in you or you in him. 

He kisses your temple lightly, still stroking your upper arm lazily. “You’re my most precious thing, you know that?” His voice is so soft, quiet with a slight shake to it. 

You stiffen, you can’t help it. The words seem so alien that it’s like you’ve got emotional whiplash. 

“What?” There’s a hint of worry in his tone as he moves slightly, loosening his grip so he can look down at you as you glance up at him. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, I…” You’re not sure what to say. What you can say. Why are you being so… kind?

He nods, a small frown pinching his forehead. He traces your jawline with his thumb. “I don’t tell you enough.” He pauses. “I don’t tell you at all.” He swallows and sighs. “You’re my- you’re the most precious person.” He trails his fingers softly down the nape of your neck and you shiver. 

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he intently watches your every movement and miniscule action. The way your breathing changes ever so slightly, how your eyes dilate a little when you look at him. 

Carefully he leans up to kiss you, gently urging you to lay on top of him fully as he reclines back. You follow his movements, certain that this will lead to passionately harsh kisses and his tongue in your mouth. Love bites and teeth marks, groans and sighs, and him coming inside you. You naked while he stays clothed, perhaps loosening another few buttons of his shirt, his belt unbuckled and fly undone.

But instead he holds you softly, kissing you gently and sweet. His tongue occasionally traces your bottom lip, slips inside a fraction, but it’s always delicate, thoughtful and sweet. So unlike his usual burning fire that leaves you blistered. This only warms you, wraps you tight in a comforting embrace. 

Eventually, though still far too soon for your liking, he pulls back, glazing up at you with large, doe eyes and kiss swollen lips. He smiles lazily. The look is soft on him, making him seem much younger suddenly. Less sharp around the edges. 

“I have something for you.” He whispers, pulling a box out of his pocket and opening it to show you. 

Inside is a beautiful drop necklace, decorated in delicate dark blue stones arranged in the shape of stars. It is so unlike the normal garish jewellery he makes the dancers wear, large pieces that gleam and catch the stage lights so even clients at the back can see how prettily his girls are decorated. 

You touch the necklace lightly. 

“They’re sapphires,” he says softly. “And diamonds, and white gold.” 

“Blue,” you’re not sure what to say, you’re not sure what he wants. 

He takes the necklace out of the box and carefully fastens it around your neck. The chain is loose. It doesn’t cut into your skin. You could easily remove it if you wanted to. 

“You look so beautiful.” But he isn’t looking anywhere near the necklace when he speaks, only into your eyes. 

You lean into his touch when he strokes your cheek again and he sighs happily. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t place. Contentment perhaps. 

“Lay with me a little longer?” He asks gently and you nod instantly. 

“Of course.” 

He smiles softly as you lay back down against his chest, his arms around you. 

It’s only when you settle that there’s a spike of embarrassment runs through you. “I didn’t say thank you Blue, for the necklace, it’s wonderful, I-”

“Shh,” he smiles and kisses the top of your head. “You never have to thank me for anything, ever.” He nuzzles against you for a moment. “You’re my special angel.” 

You listen to his heart calming as he hugs you. The gentle beat and warmth of his body. 

He whispers something quietly, barely louder than an inhale. Difficult to distinguish but you’re sure you caught the words. 

“I love you.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt

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[whoreish-behaviour]

Revenant 8

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7

Na’vi!Colonel Quaritch x Na’vi!Reader

Warnings >~< = Mild dubcon, restraints, cunnilingus (F!oral), overstimulation, like 2 spanks, implied..activities

The Colonel stepped in front of you, his wide shoulders blocking your view of the two men ahead with masks strapped to their faces.

You tried to ignore the goosebumps that arose on your skin every time his tail brushed against the side of your thighs.

‘I’m over it..’ You bit your lip to hide your smile as the man’s accent reached your ears, ‘I’ve got quotas to meet.’

‘You wanna hunt? ..Let’s hunt.’

You furrowed your eyebrows at the Colonel ominous tone, your eyes bouncing over to Spider who had the exact same expression as you.

Once you both connected gazes, he shrugged - before turning back to the railing he was leaned over.

‘What? Here? Not here, there’s too many villages..’

‘No, no!’ A new voice spoke up.

You saw the Colonel shoulders tense, his head tilting slightly as you peeked around his waist and at the man defying him.

‘Respectfully sir..’ You saw him swallow thickly, throat bobbing at the Colonel’s rigid body.

‘Uhm, you do not understand the distinct bonds between the Tulkun and the ocean Na’vi, it’ll.. it’ll be like murdering a member of their family!’

Your stomach dropped when his words registered.

They were going to hunt the Tulkun.

‘Colonel! You can’t.’ You shouted, fist clenching when he didn’t even turn to look at you.

Your breathes grew heavy with panic as everyone turned to look at you, all except for the one person that needed to listen.

‘Colonel!’ You tried again, lifting your tied hands and knocking them into his back.

Still, he didn’t budge.

Letting out a noice of frustration, you flattened your ears and snarled - flashing your fangs venomously.

‘See?’ The man from before spoke up again.

‘We start hunting here, the hostiles will come after us.’

You hissed, angry they had disregarded you - a horrible state of hopelessness washing over your body as you continued to try and cut in.

Your pleas only fell on deaf ears.

‘Exactly, one hostile in particular.’

Your claws dug into your palms from pure anger as the Colonel’s voice rung out again, your eyes set intently on the back of his head.

'If you hunt them, my people will kill you!'

You wanted him to look at you, see the pure rage running through your system and feel the pain of your claws.

To you, nothing would ever justify the amount of destruction caused and now the heartbreak he was planning.

‘Lyle, take her inside.’

You watched as the blue soldier near Spider turned to you, his face stoic as he walked over to you.

You growled as he came closer, hissing when he picked you up and and threw you over his shoulder, crossing over to the entrance of the ship.

‘I will never forgive you if you do this Miles.’ You spoke, voice quiet and defeated but you knew he heard you.

…

‘You’re really going to let them do this?’ The Colonel’s ears flicked up as he adjusted his vest, Spider’s voice echoing his distaste.

He didn't look at the boy, instead turning away and following the rest of the team down the ship.

He tried to push the effect of the boy's words, yours also resinating and repeating in his brain over and over again.

I'll never forgive you.

I'll never forgive you.

I'll never forgive you Miles..

Your lack of anger and venom in those words only emphasised how truthful you were being, your defeat not making him nearly as happy as he had thought it would.

He gritted his teeth at himself, instead focusing on following Scoresby in front of him, silently watching as the ceiling of the ship separated - opening up and revealing all sorts of equipment.

He heard Scoresby shout to his crew, everyone immediately following his orders.

In no time, over 5 boats were ready to roll out, the ramp opening up to the raging water below.

The Colonel followed Scoresby onto the biggest ship, unable to help himself when walking pass, reaching out and touching the tip of some sort of harpoon.

The thing was huge, leaving the Colonel to wonder just how big these Tulkun were.

Within minutes, everyone was in the water - the smaller boats following behind as Scoresby led everyone away from the main ship, his yells of excitement making the Colonel grimace.

Gripping the rail, the Colonel looked out at the ocean - not even trying to suppress the images of when he had plucked you clean out of that same water and dragged you back with him.

..where you belonged.

The feeling he had in his chest when he was unable to reach you in that vent, your body just out of reach, was unlike anything he imagined.

It felt wrong to have you so far away, out of the circle of his safety.

Anything could've happened. What if you ran out of air in there? Or fell through and dropped-

'Bingo! Move in, we got em.' The colonel deeply inhaled at Scoresby's voice, snapping his eyes ahead and watching as a man behind him began to shoot canisters at the water.

Almost instantly, large blue creatures began to lift their heads up and out of the water, large splashing sounds erupting.

'Get in there, separate her from the rest.' Scoresby flagged the ships on either side of them, the Colonel watching on as the boats began to circle one of the Tulkun.

The Colonel swallowed as the creature cried out, the boats surrounding it disorientating it and causing it to panic.

Gripping the railing tighter, the boat swerved in the direction of the now lone Tulkun - the thing still crying out helplessly as the Colonel gritted his teeth.

'Now the hard part..' The colonel looked over to Scoresby - who was grinning, happy as anything.

'They ever fight back?' He couldn't help but question.

'No, never seen them even lift a fin. They're tough bastards to kill though.' The Colonel looked away again as Scoresby laughed, tail behind him unmoving as he breathed heavy.

I'll never forgive you.

'Subteams move in - airbags ready.'

Clenching his fist, the Colonel ran his tongue over his fangs - thoughts conflicting him as he saw the Tulkan slow massively - bright red airbags now attached to it's fins.

It's continuous cries strangely reminded him of you - no matter how helpless it was, the beast still fought back.

I'll never forgive you Miles

And that was the last straw for the Colonel.

'Stop! Order a full retreat!' He shouted, moving in closer to Scoresby - who was now stood behind the massive harpoon from before.

The man immediately looked to the Colonel, hands on the trigger - holding the beasts fate quite literally in his hands.

'What!? You-'

'You heard me.' The Colonel nodded once, ears flat.

'You can't just do that! There's-

Snarling, the Colonel stepped up onto the ledge the arguing man stood, his body instantly shrinking back at the threatening avatar before him.

'Full. Retreat. Now Scoresby.'

The colonel felt his fangs graze his bottom lip, snarling as the man rumbled something along the lines of 'you're really starting to piss me off' before pressing his ear piece.

'Everyone stand back, full retreat. Speedboats return to SeaDragon, subteam to me.' Scoresby spoke, his frustration clear.

Turning away, the Colonel looked back over the railing - eyes on the now stationary Tulkun who's head was still above water.

'Now what? It can't swim like that.' His ears flicked at Scoresby's irritation.

'Leave it where it is, the clans will still find it. The message is clear enough.' The Colonel justified, trying to ignore the relief he felt as he watched the boats move back and away from the cornered beast.

...

The ground was cold where you laid on your side, head rested on your hands, legs and tail tucked close to your body.

You were cheeks damp, the skin red and flushed.

It had to of been hours since you were chucked in here, the Colonels right hand man scolding at you to behave.

You stared mindlessly at the underside of the table above, your whole body physically hurt from the pain in your chest that seemed to spread like a disease.

The betrayal you felt.

Not just from the Colonel, no. You had betrayed yourself, allowing yourself to think, even for a second, that you were able to see a change in him.

You cursed yourself, tears welling up again and threatening to fall.

At the sound of the door opening behind you, you sniffed quickly - blinking away and willing yourself not to cry. With your back to the door, you weren't able to see who had disturbed you.

And quite frankly, you didn't care.

Their silence confused you, your ears perking up to catch if they made any sort of noise to indicate who they were.

Once your confusion wasn't rectified, you huffed out and closed your eyes - willing yourself to sleep and forget everything.

You weren't expecting the hand on your still tied ankles, a gasp leaving your mouth as you were pulled out from under the table, body dragging against the ground.

Immediately your turned, teeth bared and eyes full of anger - ready to attack.

You pushed away your relief when your eyes landed on the Colonel, his sheepish gaze staring you back.

'Get off of me!' You tried to pull your legs from his grip but he refused to let go. Instead, he further pulled you closer to where he was kneeled on his hunches.

He didn't react to your thrashing, instead he just stared at you - not a word leaving his lips.

'What's wrong with you! Skxawng! Get. Off!' You hissed, fangs flashing.

You continued when you felt his hands circle around your waist, pulling you until you were nose to nose.

You breathed heavy as your stared at him, his lack of fight infuriating you even more. Feeling his arms wrap around you tighter, you were suddenly picked up - triggering you to curse him out again.

'Stop ignoring me and let go!'

You gasped as you were dropped on the table, one hand on your waist sliding down to your hips and pulling you to the edge while the other trailed up just under your breasts- pressing you flat to the surface.

His hand was big enough to entirely cover you, his warmth seeping into your very soul.

Your mouth dropped open, the sudden position having your still damp cheeks warming.

'Now your quiet?' His voice threw you off, your confidence out the window.

You didn't respond, only swallowed thickly as he lifted your legs up to your chest, his hands now behind your knees and pressing himself against you- hips flush to yours.

You didn't try and let it effect you, amping yourself up and flattening your ears - ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him.

'Don't touch me!' You hissed, tucking your restrained hands to your chest and swaying your tail slowly.

He was evil, he had taken countless of innocent lives, beings that had done absolutely nothing but exist and you were letting him touch you?!

'I hate you! Get away and let me go!' You thrashed, your entire body flushing when you felt felt him move a hand down your thigh - the other moving across and using his forearm to hold your knees to your chest.

You gasped when the hand trailing your thigh dipped further down, under your ass - fingers slipping beneath the band of your pants before beginning to pull it up.

'S..Stop! Get off of me!' Your voice cracked, your body shivering as more skin was revealed to the cool room.

The Colonel didn't look down at all, his eyes trained on your face - watches your features intently. He watched as your face tensed and relaxed, almost as if you were unsure if you should be enjoying this.

But he knew you were, your scent was already beginning to permeate the air.

He didn't stop until your pants were bunched up at your knees, the arm he was using to keep you in the mating press now holding the fabric in a tight grip.

You didn't know how to react, your heart dropping as you were completely exposed - shutting your eyes in embarrassment when your felt yourself clench.

You could already feel your slick building, your clit beginning to throb from lack of stimulation.

'Get..Get off me.' You and the Colonel both heard the lack of emphasis in your words, your voice quiet and no strength behind it.

'That what you really want?' You could feel his stare on you but you didn't look.

The Colonel waited for your answer, your pure stubbornness making a smirk pull at his lips.

You huffed out a breath when you felt him move further down, his head disappearing out of the corner of your eye.

Your thighs shook desperately when you felt him press his lips just below the back of your knee, his lips and breath warm against you.

He repeated that again and again, lower each time until he was at your inner thigh. You then felt him run his fangs over the sensitive skin, the sharp tips embedding in your skin.

You moaned, body tensing as he repeated the process to your other thigh - this time taking it a step further and sucking the skin into his mouth.

He didn't let go, even when your bucked your hips against him, cunt dripping for him and landing on the surface below.

Once he was sure he had left his mark, he released you - tongue slipping out to running over the new bruise.

Dropping his gaze, his eyes landed on your pussy - the poor thing practically begging to be touched.

'If you want me to stop, tell me and I'll leave.' He knew he had to ask, even though he'd rather bite his own hand off than leave you right now - he wouldn't force you.

At your lack of response, he lifted his hand - landing a clean spank on the back of your thigh. Your gasp made him smirk as he pictured your pouty lips.

'Please Colonel..' You whined, laying your head back against the table, back arching and hoping he'd give in and finally touch you.

You held your breath when you felt him move lower, cheeks tinting as you felt him sniff around - breathing you in like air. His groan made you respond with your own whine, hands clenching into fists.

'We didn't kill them.' The random sentence had you opening your eyes, the light blinding.

'Wh..what?' You voice wobbled.

'The Tulkun. I called off the hunt.' You lifted your head, trying to peer around your legs and at his face, the relief in your body never feeling better.

'Miles-'

You were cut off by your own moan, his tongue finally diving between your lips - the hand that wasn't holding your legs to your chest now slipping two fingers on either side of you, spreading you open even further.

'Fuck, you're dripping everywhere.'

You threw your head back when you felt him slide his tongue through the entirety of you - your arousal collecting deliciously on his tastebuds.

'Knew you'd taste this fuckin' good.' You whined back at his muffled voice, arching your back and slithering your tail around the back of his neck.

Once you had be licked clean, he slid up higher - laving his tongue repeatedly across your engorged clit before taking the bud into his mouth.

You screamed as he sucked, his cheeks hollowing out and using his tongue to flick the bud in his mouth, making sure the tip caught the sensitive underside.

Humming around you, he sucked harder - pulling back slightly and shaking his head, your hips rocking against his face.

You stomach quivered, breaths heavy as you moaned out, your high beginning to peak as you begged him, your thighs shaking around his head.

'Fuckin' come for me princess, come on.' You heard him pant against you, before he dove back back, the hand that had been spreading you now circling your clit while he tongued at your hole.

You cried out as he slipped inside you, thumb unrelenting on your clit.

You felt electric when your high crashed through you, your body on overdrive while Miles continued to lick at you, tongue slipping back and forth to draw more of your orgasm out.

You whined when he didn't pull away and the thumb on you clit didn't stop.

You shifted to hips away, crying out when his mouth only followed you - tongue now licking up to where his thumb was, pulling the appendage away to clean away any remaining arousal.

Once he was sure you were clean, your pussy twitching from overstimulation, he let go - kissing his way back up until he was looking over your knees and down at your fucked out face.

You eyes were closed, breaths heavy as your tried to come back - your brain completely disconnecting from you.

'You with me?' He asked, using his hand to lightly smack against your thighs.

Your whine while you nodded made him chuckle, your eyes finally opening and looking down at him.

His chest sucked in at the smile you graced him with, your eyes light and genuine while your dimple popped in your cheeked.

Looking down, Miles reached down and grasped your wrists, fingers sliding under the restraint and loosening it until it fell away. He reached for your ankles next, repeating the same action.

His ears perked up at your sound of relief, using both his hands to pull your legs from your chest and letting them fall limp on either side of him, your pants still around your knees.

While he was too busy making sure you were comfortable, his hands pulling your pants off the rest of the way - thumbs massaging the flesh of your thighs to make sure you wouldn't cramp, you stared at him, your tailing swaying in content.

You felt safe.

Sitting up, you watched as he looked up at you - eyes trying to figure you out.

He was between your now spread thighs, hands leaving you and dropping rest on the table on either side of your waist.

Slowly, you trailed your hands up his chest - fingers spread wide and your tough feather light.

You didn't look at his face, focused on where your hands touched until they were near his neck, your nails grazing the skin lightly.

Only then did you link your eyes, his hooded and intense - almost as if he was staring right through you.

You held your breath as he leaned in, nose lightly brushing yours before he finally connected his lips to yours.

Breathing out, you closed your eyes - pushing back against him while he kissed you, your hands making their way around his neck and running over the hair at the back of his head.

You whined when you felt him press harder into you, his hips now flush to your bare core - the material nudging your clit.

'Miles..' You broke away, eyes still closed why he began to rock into you - crying out when your sensitive clit began to be stimulated again.

'So beautiful..' You heard him say quietly, lips pressing against your throat and the skin being roughly sucked under his teeth - fangs threatening to break through.

'..all mine.' You nodded in agreement, hissing in pleasure when he bit down ever so slightly.

'Yours.'

You gasped when you felt something hard begin to press up against your core, his rocking hips letting you feel everything.

'I..I want to help you..' You started, beginning to trail the hand around his neck, down his chest - hoping he'd understand.

The smirk against your throat told you he knew exactly what you were trying to say.

I'm not sure when the next update will be since I'll be away from home for a few days, will keep you guys posted :))

Part 9

Kofi <33

Taglist = @namor-is-the-way @kimqueenofhell @simplefools @gremlinfuck @jupekali @cypherpt5fttaehyung @pturnersblog @girlblogger2002 @inkareds @apollonshootafar @lovejessejay @applesnbannasss @spookyspecterino @s-sabbas @ateandleftnocrumbz @witxhy-lexx @hungrhay @generational-tragedy @anbanananna @honestlyka @perseny @yuugenmomo @oyasumimosura @darkengene @nin3kyuu @blossom618 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @enslique @koolaidjug @kadu-5607 @fourcefulcupid @mangolog @webwix @dakotali @oscarpascal4eva @aerangi @cherrychupachup @sofiebstar @prty-poisxn

[eggslamwich]

Been listening to alot of Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines ambient music while I draw, so of course I combined brainrots and made a vtm au for some jjk stuff (ignoring most of 5e because they gentrified my vampire ttrpg 🥲)

Kenjaku is an extremely old Tremere antitribu and has taken the path of biothaumaturgy, thus the brain transplant cursed technique in this universe. Kenny likely doesn’t have a sire and was part of the big Tremere transgression, still working out the kinks on that, but they tend to take on the identity of those whom have resources valuable to their goals and the Sabbat overall, which is why despite being Tremere they’re tolerated amongst the Sabbat.

During their era as Noritoshi Kamo, they created Choso and his brothers through experimenting with blood magic and breeding ghouls in an attempt to create more powerful revenants, but as is the case in canon that didn’t turn out the way they wanted rip. At some point when they took on Kaori’s identity, they made Jin into a ghoul as well, and he blood bonded with them ❤️

Mahito is a shovelhead tzimisce who surpassed her role as canon fodder and proved to be a prodigy among Sabbat fledglings. Kenjaku took interest in them especially and took her under their wing in guiding her through their new life as a vampire, curious to watch her grow in her disciplines. (And totally doesn’t plan on diablerizing them)

At some point Junpei crossed paths with her, and was tricked by her under the promise of making him a vampire too into becoming their ghoul. The stitches are from places she opened up to see the insides, but they kept them for “aesthetics”, and a benefit of being a tzimisce is you can get all the body mods you want without risk of infection. :D

(I mainly based human mahito off @cursedvibes ‘s depiction of her in his fanfic here)

I’m still churning lore ideas in my head to make every thing better tho, I hope to add more to it sometime uwu

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 17: the stars are shining their brightest light

"We can get lost in fears that we make for days that feel black as night, but there in the dark, you'll find that the stars are shining their brightest light." -If You Love Someone by The Veronicas

Regent Masterlist Part 16

“This is my girlfriend, Queen Regent Jasmine of the Infinite Realms.” 

If there was ever a way to silence the Bat-family, it was with an introduction like that. 

Sure, Jason knew the family was fully aware of Jasmine Nightingale (thanks to Replacement), but he was positive that he had just rocked their world by just casually dropping the fact that  Jazz was not only royalty of the same dimension but also ruled it in the stead of the true monarch… He was certain that his family would figure out what he wasn’t saying soon enough. 

Beautifully executed and dinner hadn’t even started. 

The shock that permeated the room was delicious, feeding his ego as he led Jazz to their seats the furthest from Bruce, with Jazz safe at his side where he could intercept any perceived attack aimed at her. He’d ignored the rule about weapons at the table, packing his favorite desert eagle at his back and an ecto-gun strapped to his ankle that was a thoughtful gift from Danny. Jasmine had her bracelets uncharmed for the evening, desiring transparency with his family, and he knew how quickly she could summon her armor and Faithkeeper. They were as prepared as they could be and it made him proud that he had someone like Jazz to watch his back.

(He loved fighting back-to-back with her.) (Almost as much as he loved keeping her safe.) (The Lady and her knight.) (He was in love.)

It was Dickolas that spoke first, barely containing his excitement, “Little Wing, I’m so happy for you!” Which allowed pandemonium to follow from the rest of his siblings. 

“Oh my gosh-” 

“A member of royalty-” “-you’re-” 

“Jason pulled-”

 “gorgeous!” 

“New sister?”

“-is willing-” 

“A queen?!” 

“-to date you?” 

“Nice one man.” 

The once-Revenant could practically taste Jazz’s amusement, relishing in her amusement-bafflement-love as they waited quietly for the others to settle down so the couple could answer the questions no doubt waiting for them.  

The first question Jazz could answer was probably the one that she dreaded to answer. 

“How’d you meet?” Tim asked, eyes switching from Jason to her and back again. 

Jason was swift to reply, “At a bookstore.” “Got to talking and Jason asked me out.” Jazz added with a soft smile at the memory of a blushing Jason. 

The dark-haired girl at the table, Cassandra Wayne, signed something far too quick for Jazz to read completely. Though Stephanie translated right away, “Cass asked how long it took Jason to ask you out.” 

Jazz chuckled a bit and set down her cutlery to sign her response, though the movements were somewhat stilted- she hadn’t used sign language since the last meeting with Heppa, a mute acropolis amazonian that once acted as Jazz’s sparring partner while under Pandora’s tutelage. 

Some signs were muscle memory (stop, peace, fight), but others were difficult to recall. The ghost equivalent of ASL (ESL or ecto sign language) was far easier to fall back into than ASL, given that it also used emotions to communicate. [Two days, nervous, very cute.] Jazz signed, projecting the fondness-love she felt for her soulmate as she did. Cass tilted her head, the faint prickle of curiosity evaporating into the air almost as soon as Jazz registered it, but one of the other men at the table turned the attention away from the two women’s silent conversation. “I can’t believe little wing got a queen to date him!” Dick exclaimed. 

“Tt, a member of royalty should have better standards than to settle for Todd.” That comment came from the youngest Wayne, Damian, where he sat to his father’s left. The head of the house studied Jazz with a quiet air of protect-wariness. 

Ah, yes. They’d met as their alter egos- her the Regent and him the Batman. How concerning it must be for her to find her way into his son’s life and to his dining table with his other children. Bruce no doubt saw the evidence of the extent she would go to for Phantom. 

One slash, two, three Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash.  Slash six, seven Sharpen your love into a weapon

“Jason is a wonderful person and partner.” Jazz replied, electing to ignore the DadBat’s stare into the side of her skull. Cass’s hands moved again, a bit slower than the first time, much to Jazz’s relief. [Do ghosts use sign?] 

[Yes. Emotions with words.] Jazz answered with a small smile as she once again projected her emotions, fondness-anxiety-amusement, for those present even if they couldn’t register them. 

“What are those shadows behind you?” Duke blurted out, eyes still locked onto something over Jazz’s shoulder. 

“Shades.” The manor was full of weak shades, no doubt belonging to ancestors of the Wayne lineage. “Weak ones” she clarified. 

Bruce spoke up this time, “The weakest form of ghosts?” he asked for clarification as if he wasn’t in possession of the Ghost Files, which she knew had information on shades. 

(Among other beings.) (She tried not to think about her own file.) (The evidence of patricide and matricide.) 

“Yes. These ones are probably just curious about my presence.” It was true, as far as she could tell. Jazz was the most liminal being in existence, after all, not to mention the Crown of Fire she bared as Regent. Thankfully, she couldn’t make out any hostility from the ancestral shades, not with her permission to be here and an escort of a Fraid member (Jason) was not an intrusion. 

“You are aware we know your identity,” Damian stated, with a glare that would cut down weak men. “And that you know ours.” 

(Well, no shit Sherlock.) (Jason’s Red Hood.) (No need for a corkboard and red string.) “Demon spawn-” Jason growled, but Jazz took his hand in hers to calm down the anger she could feel bubbling up to the surface. He took a deep breath in and out before he squeezed her hand back. “Damian. I trust Jazz with my life, she won’t betray us or our secret identities.” 

“Phantom trusted you with the Ghost Files. If he considers you worthy, then so will I.” Jazz swore. 

Dinner passed far quicker than Jason expected. He sat back and basked in his Lady’s presence at the dining table as she answered questions, as they had agreed before arriving. Bruce hadn’t spoken much, no doubt content to watch the interactions between his kids and Jazz. 

Jason hoped the old man could see how wonderful his Lady was. She was his guiding hand through darkness and fire, made his worries melt away, and offered him peace in his second chance at life. 

Gave him her heart, him, the eight-heads in a duffel bag crime lord. Let him meet her little brother, her reason for surviving thus far, her world. Let Jason’s scarred and bloody hands hold her close to his still-beating heart and Proto-core. 

He couldn’t offer her much, not really, but he could offer her a piece of him- this, his family, his Fraid. It wasn’t a lot, not when compared to what Jazz had given him before he ever knew her name, but it was all he had to give that couldn’t be offered so easily. 

(Jazz would never hurt his family.) (Not unless they hurt him first.) 

One day, the two of them would be comfortable in this manor side by side, but not now with the newness and wariness he could feel from his Fraid

Perhaps he shouldn’t ask Bruce for that favor quite yet. 

A/N: I am thrilled to announce that with this update the Regent is no longer in Hiatus! With the AO3 version comes more fuel to write (comments & kudos) and of course that gives me more encouragement to write. There will be gaps between posts still, but I will be posting parts again. AO3 link in Regent masterlist, parts combined into longer chapters. beta'd by the awesome @meditating-cat

Thanks for reading!

[xenart]

No because I can’t stop thinking about the themes of childhood in the locked tomb, I’m not sure if its like, a byproduct of other themes, or if it’s all building to something- the mere existence of Nona seems to imply the latter- but it cant escape notice that a huge portion of the characters in the Locked Tomb universe seem to have been denied childhood.

The Lyctors quite literally never were children, they were reborn with no memory of their prior lives. Their sociopath behavior is not just a byproduct of their age but the fact that they literally do not remember ever being  nurtured or cared for. I don’t think its a coincidence that the Cythera and Loveday were the last to ascend, and Anastasia and Samael *didn’t* ascend, and they were 4 of the 6 saints to remember their childhoods (no clue on what Cyrus and Valency thought of it afaik)

 The Nine Houses in of themselves do not seem designed to provide a nurturing childhood. Children start preparing for their life of war early, doubly so if they are born with necromantic ability. We do see some examples of nurturing, but we see even more of children thrown into war before puberty, and children being born to become batteries. The one house we know for a fact was dedicated to protecting children till they turned 18 is the ninth house, and the plot of the series arguably begins with the decision to betray that dedication.

Harrow is described as being insanely unchildlike from birth, being able to sit silently in pews for hours.

I feel like if there is a thesis statement on the series relationship to childhood in the books so far, it comes from the scene where Ortus apologies for not looking out for Harrow:

“She was the Reverend Daughter. She was beyond pity, beyond the tenderness of a member of her congregation rendering her down into a neglected child. The problem was that she had never been a child; she and Gideon had become women before their time, and watched each other’s childhood crumble away like so much dust.”

It’s been said before that a large part of the series seems to reflect love as pity, caring for someone when they’re in a wretched shameful state, when help is truly needed and people answer the call and do it with kindness. Childhood is when this type of love is most given, when we are our most vulnerable and our care is given most unconditionally.

And the fact that Nona’s story is so important to the series that it was worth expanding the trilogy to a quartet for her- it speaks to me that it was very important for her to experience that kind of nurturing love on a personal level, as a human. A lot has changed since John locked Alecto away, but the biggest difference- the one John doesn’t even know about -is that his Revenant Beast now has an inner child.

[highvern]

I’m rereading one of my favorite series from my childhood and it got me thinking about

magi-zoologist wonwoo who comes to visit your magical creature preservation to research the rare dark species living on the land

You get it. They’re fascinating things littered across the hundreds of acres your family has maintained for generations and the awe is never lost on you when you spot the more elusive ones come out from time to time but the last thing you need is to baby sit some nerd when you’re already dealing with constant chaos

Wonwoo isn’t bad at first. He’s incredibly enthusiastic about the revenant living in the abandoned marsh at the far end of the property. He says he observed one at the preserve in Africa and nearly lost his mind from getting a smidge too close but they’re so hard to learn about because you can’t get too close but it’s just so fascinating despite the very real threat of going catatonic.

It doesn’t inspire your confidence but Wonwoo continues to list off facts and knowledge you couldn’t care less about bc you’ll be damned if you take him anywhere near that thing when he’s already getting into trouble with all the other creatures he keeps trying to study because yes there is a fog giant bound to the southern end of the preserve and NO you cannot cross through the wraith’s territory to see the village of triclops isolated in the cliff side Jesus Christ are you trying to get us both killed? how have you survived so long?

When you tell him you don’t even visit some parts of the preserve because the creatures there are better left alone he almost looks at you with pity because they’re fascinating! Magic is fascinating! How can you not even be the smallest bit curious about what goes on out there?

But what’s worse than saving him from trolls and goblins are all the fairies and sprites living in your garden constantly trying to flirt with him (not that you’ve paid much attention)

And it certainly doesn’t help when Wonwoo looks at them with star struck eyes, sketching the rarer species in his journal with precision, because they’re incredibly vain and wait in line to preen their wings or show off their magic for him with the hopes they impress him enough to maintain his attention

so when he cuts his admirations short to discuss another excursion on the grounds with you they get jealous. And hell hath no fury like a fairy scorned because while they can’t technically attack you unprovoked they can make your life incredibly inconvenient. Some grow vines across your usual path in an effort to trip you or angle a sun beam that just so happens to hit your eyes and several outright snuff you when you come outside, flitting away into the woods until wonwoo joins but if he realizes he doesn’t seem to understand because his head is lost in his journal again

And isn’t until your taking Wonwoo to meet the herd of centaurs living on the preserve (he hadn’t shut up since you accidentally let it slip one morning) that you understand yeah he’s a bookworm but he’s more useful than he lets on because you stumble upon a pack of drumants way too close to the house than they should be, disturbing their nest and causing them to attack and without Wonwoo they would have easily taken you down because the little buggers are nearly invisible and while you can handle one or two, Wonwoo knows the tricks to unveil them and it’s Wonwoo who carries you back to the house after your bitten and administers the antivenom and the entire time he’s calm, spouting more facts about how lethal they are as if you aren’t losing color and almost passing out and when he does look at your face and realize he’s freaking you out he tries to crack a joke but your still wondering who the hell is this man and what did he do with Wonwoo who fell into a pile of basilisk shit because he didn’t watch where he was going two days ago

So maybe you start to understand why the fairies are so smitten with the man and you start taking him on more trips into the more dangerous parts of the preserves because you clearly underestimated him

And when it’s time for him to leave to another preserve for further research you won’t admit you’ll miss him but he promises he’ll write you with all the interesting findings and you nod along trying not to be upset because this was the inevitable end to his stay here and you knew from the start he’d be leaving

You’d swear he was blushing as he steps outside the door and you click it shut behind him but then there’s a knock not 20 seconds later and you open it to find wonwoo standing there looking at you the same way he stares at all the magical creatures, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen and he wants to immortalize you in his notebook because he needs to know more

Um anyway!

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 23

Corona’s going along with both the deception that Nona is Harrow and that Harrow’s blind, so that seems to be a sign that she’s not going to fully rat them out at least

‘I’m only a Lyctor, a sacred fist and gesture holding the power of life and death’ Ianthe you are trying wayyy too hard rn

wait so the entire sixth house literally just lifted off of the planet and flew away, thats so fucking funny

and the plot thickens, Cassiopeia, in true Lyctor fashion, also had weird secret betrayal stuff going on. also again i love that her plan was apparently just to completely fuck off the moment things started going south

DUPLICITOUS SLUTS omfg Ianthe remains iconic

also from the sounds of it John isn’t doing so hot rn. who knew lying to and murdering multiple of your best friends would have emotional consequences

'this is not going down as a good day in my diary’ i want to read Ianthe’s diary, i bet its full of Cohort admiralty gossip

oh what the fuck is happening here with Nona’s weird bomb scream. it seems kind of like her tantrum, in the sense it’s an outburst she can’t really control. and her screaming affected necromancers like the RB’s do … if Nona is Alecto, and Alecto is the earth/souls of humanity (somehow?? idk) then it would make sense that she could understand/have similar abilities to the RB’s, which are also the revenants of dead planets

this feels like the most off-the-rails Ianthe’s been in a while. she’s overcompensating a lot about how she’s a glorious Lyctor and has all this authority, but in reality she seems very stressed. she's essentially gotten her dream job only to have to take on like 5 other people's jobs at the same time, eternal 22/23 year old experience

oh for Jod’s sake i cannot fucking believe the goddamn unfinished duels in GtN are actually being plot relevant again what is this

oh Cam and Pal definitely have a plan here challenging Ianthe. i mean the plan might just be ‘Camilla stabs Ianthe a lot’ but they’ve definitely got something up their sleeve. is Camilla-in-Palamedes gonna come back to overpower Ianthe in this duel or something?? i’m still horrifically anxious waiting for that to come back up

and now Corona’s threatening to kill herself, this is a very stressful chapter in so many ways. also you cannot say that Corona does not commit to the bit  

'watching Pyrrha’s eyes following it’ oh Pyrrha’s gonna get a gun for sure

Hot Sauce hit some other schoolkids with a car at one point?? this girl is something else

oh fucking shit Camilla’s gotten properly impaled. but Ianthe’s also just fainted?? they’ve managed to cut off her connection to Bab’s body … somehow? guess we’ll find out how next chapter 🤷‍♀️

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Where There's a Will, Right?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY:      After Dante’s successful defeat of Argosax, he’s been ever-so-slightly more talkative than before; at least, that’s what you think. Both Trish and Lady noticed that Dante’s mood hasn’t improved and, if anything, he has only become more distant. Upon telling them that they’re wrong, they both tell you something that sends your mind reeling. 

MINORS DNI--Seriously, go away >:[

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

==

     “Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

     “What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

     “No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

     “That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

     Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

     “But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

     Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

     “Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

     Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

     “Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

     “I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

     Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief. 

     “You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

     “I do not!” 

     Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

     “How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

     The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

     Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

     "You're the only one allowed in his room."

     "And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

     “Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

     Once again, you choked on your drink.

     Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

     The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

     “Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

     Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays. 

     “Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

     He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

     Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

     “You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

     “Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

     A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

     “Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

     He said nothing and shut the door. 

     Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

     “Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

      You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

     “There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ” 

     Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!” 

     You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

     “Everything okay?”

     “Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated. 

     His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

     “You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

     “It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up. 

     As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

     Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers. 

     Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

     “So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

     “ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

     A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

     “What?”

     “It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

     The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat. 

     Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done. 

     At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

     “Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

     He shrugged, "Don’t care."

     You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company. 

===

     A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one. 

     A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a  snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched. 

     Another set of knocks. 

     You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it. 

     “Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

     “You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

     A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

     His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

     “What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

     After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

     You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race. 

     As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

     You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

     His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

     “Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

     The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

     “Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

     He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

     You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

     “We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

     “Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

     His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed. 

     Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

     “And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

     Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself. 

     You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on. 

     Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed. 

===

     Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night. 

     That’s when you showed up in his life. 

     You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut. 

     “We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes. 

     Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats. 

     Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you. 

     You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword. 

     He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

     Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

     One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

     The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

     Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave. 

     “Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

     With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop. 

     “So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms. 

     “I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

     “Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

     You froze.

     “You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture. 

     “I-- What?”

     Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?” 

     Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

     “Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

     As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

     “That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

     You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

     “There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

     “O-oh…”

     He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

     You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

     “Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

     “Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

     Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

     After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

     Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

     “You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

     “Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

     “Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

     Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

     “Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

     “Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

     You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

     “No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

     “Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

     “She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

     “Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

     “Really?”

     “Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

     You laughed.

     “What?”

     “I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

     The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

     You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

     “You coming?” 

     A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

     “I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

     Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage. 

     With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

     Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist. 

     Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter. 

     The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process. 

     A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement. 

     An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

     “No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

     With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

     When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there. 

     You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

     A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

     “Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

     Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

     It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

     You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

     “Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

     The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

     “Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

     “I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

     “Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?” 

     “I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

     You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

     Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

     A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

     The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

     Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

     In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

     You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building. 

     “Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

     “I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

     “Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

     “No,” he attempted to stand again.

     “Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

     His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

     “Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

     “I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

     “No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

     “No, I am fine.”

     “Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

     His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade. 

     “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

     “You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

     He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

     You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

     “Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him. 

     The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

     As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

     Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

     Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack. 

     There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

     “Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him. 

     “You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

     You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

     “Do you remember why I hired you?”

     “Because you said you needed company..?”

     His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

     “Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

     His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

     Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…” 

     His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

     “Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

     A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

     “What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

     He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt. 

     Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups. 

     However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

     “Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

     “Hm?”

     “Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

     “Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

     Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

     The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer. 

     “I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

     “Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

     “Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

     A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

     “Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes. 

     “I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

     You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

     “You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

     A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

     Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?” 

     “Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

     The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

     “Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

     Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

     “ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it. 

     Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

     With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

     His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them. 

     Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

     “We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

     Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. 

     A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

     “No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

     He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

     “I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

     The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

     Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

     You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop. 

     “Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

     “Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

     “What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

     Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

     “Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

     “Trish!”

     She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

     The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?” 

     He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so. 

     Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could. 

     Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride. 

     Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles. 

     Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

     He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

     You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

     “What?”

     He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

     You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

     “Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch. 

     “Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

     “Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

     Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!” 

     He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

     “You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

     “Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

     The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises. 

     He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop. 

     Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

     However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

     The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

     “I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

     “Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

     You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. 

     Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily. 

     The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.” 

     He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…” 

     Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

     “Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze. 

     All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

     Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

     “Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

     A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze. 

     The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

     You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

     He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

     “What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

     You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

     Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

     “I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

     He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

     You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante. 

     Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing. 

     “Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

     His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

     “Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

     “Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

     You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

     “Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

     “Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

     He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up. 

     Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen. 

     Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock. 

     You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum. 

     With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

     “Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

     He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

     You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

     The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

     After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all. 

     Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake. 

     You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”. 

     After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

     Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

     As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks. 

     Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you. 

     Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher. 

     Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long. 

     The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for. 

     You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

     Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly. 

     Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

     With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

     The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

     A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

     Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment. 

     He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do. 

     Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder. 

     When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

     He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

     Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

     After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

     He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

     You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

     He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you. 

     After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

     You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan. 

     He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole. 

     A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat. 

     Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

     Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster. 

     Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner. 

     “Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

     The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up. 

     Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him. 

     Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years. 

     “Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

     With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling. 

     Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

     Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time. 

     “More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

     Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

     Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises. 

     You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

     “What~Ah~!” 

     Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs. 

     In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs. 

     Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing. 

     Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

     “Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?” 

     Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself. 

     Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further. 

     This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest. 

     Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

     “Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do. 

     He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you. 

     The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his. 

     A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

     Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

     Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

     “Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

     A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

     He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

     Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

     You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

     The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all).  🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

==

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MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[loveinthestars]

Episode 3 wasn’t bad at all! I’m loving the subtle changes when the demon is present, I really can’t wait to see how this show plays out.

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Really enjoyed writing this one! I like adding lines from the game in different contexts...

Ghost enters the shipment container, taking note of Valeria sitting in the middle, surrounded by the soldiers, and restrained by Graves.

Alejandro is pacing in front of her, her eyes following the motion with obvious amusement.

“Alright”, Graves points at the two of them, “how do you two know each other?”.

Alejandro scoffs, “know is a strong word”.

“Ah, strong words are important” Valeria grins, “our word is our worth, right?”

The Vaquero stops his pacing to sharply turn to the woman and start cursing her out in Spanish. Rudy and Soap rush to restrain him.

Price steps forward, “I suggest you start cooperating, El Sin Nombre. Unless you want me digging through your brain,” the Captain towers over her, “and I promise you, it won’t be pleasant.”

An expression of uncertainty passes through Valeria’s features, but she returns to her usual arrogant smile fast enough, “whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here” she nods her head, “I don’t know where any of your precious soldiers are. I’m a courier, I move things.”

“Yeah, and those things just happen to be humans, aren’t they” Graves grabs her shoulder. 

Valeria shakes it off, “I don’t peek inside, that would be unprofessional.”

Alejandro seethes, “and you’re just a model image of professionalism, aren’t you?!”

“Shit Alejandro, will you pull your head out of your ass for one second?!” She screams in Spanish at him.

The Vaquero commander huffs and warns them, “don’t trust her. It won’t end well.” He storms out, Rudy not long after following him calling his name.

“Enough!” Price speaks out. “Who are you delivering your packages to?” He stares at Valeria, tilting his head down.

“I don’t take orders from anyone.” she simply states, “even the dogs at Las Almas know not to-”

“Anonymous PMC.” Price’s eyes move rapidly, as he looks through her memories, “they took down your last clients and filled the power vacuum.” 

Valeria mutters, stunned and still, “how…”

“The ones from Sweden?” Gaz quips up.

Price looks away, having gotten what he was after, “I’ll have to go through your reports again, but it’s very likely.”

Valeria shakes from her stupor, and starts laughing in a chilling way, “you’re one interesting revenant, cabron.” she lowers her head, “but you're still no closer to finding them. I was supposed to exchange two revenants today, before your little soldiers interrupted me.”

The Captain frowns, and gazes at her once more. Valeria winces a little, smirking, “I don’t know where they moved them.” She looks at him with mock-innocence.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

“If there was a deal just yesterday, it means the PMC is still somewhere here…” Johnny grunts.

Graves shakes his head, “eh, they must’ve spread out after the failed attempt at the party. They could get revenants from a different… supplier.” He closes in on El Sin Nombre, “perhaps you can give us a name?”

Valeria regards the American with a sneer, “you tell me, ‘Shadow Company’. Surely you know of your other PMC amigos?”

Ghost has been watching the entire conversation from the shadows, slowly getting more and more impatient. What caught his eye however, is the small hesitation in Graves’ moves when Valeria mentioned Shadow Company, almost like he expected her to say something else…

Maybe Graves’ hands aren’t as clean as he would like them to believe. He says so to the Captain, and Price answers, “I don’t see anything suspicious in his mind.”

Ghost knows he’s sometimes a little too paranoid, not that his life so far proved it too unfounded, but he trusts the Captain enough to let it slide for now. After all, Ghost isn’t exactly an expert at reading people.

He focuses back when Price addresses him, “Ghost, talk to the Vaqueros, see if they’ve surveyed any suspicious activity around the party, take the Sergeants and-”

“La Fantasma, Parca de Roba? I wasn’t sure if it’s really you.” Valeria looked like a shark sensing blood in the water.

He doesn’t grace her with an answer, a snake pit slithering in his stomach. Soap turns to look at him inquisitively.

Valeria chuckles darkly, “what you did to Roba… it’s the stuff of nightmares. Did you really wipe out the entire gang in less than a hou-”

“You keep running your mouth, I’ll give you a demonstration.” He growls.

She falters, before answering with a forced smile, “I look forward to it.”

As they leave, Ghost catches Graves taking Soap to the side to speak to him privately. He would snatch the American’s hand away from Johnny’s shoulder, but the Scot doesn’t look uncomfortable. On the contrary, he’s listening intently to what the Shadow commander is spewing at him.

He waits until they finish, Soap noticing him finally and jogging up to him. “Waiting for me, LT?” he smiles up at him, something dimmer about his usual attitude.

“What were you two chatting about?” he starts walking towards Alejandro’s office, knowing Gaz is probably already there.

The Sergeant tenses, but keeps moving beside him, “nothin’ interesting. Why, wanna hear some gossip?”

Ghost grunts, and walks ahead, leaving the Sergeant struggling to match his long strides.

He may not be good at reading people, but even he knows when he’s being lied to. Unfortunately, they have a job to do, his doubts will have to be resurfaced at another point.

Turns out the Vaqueros have spotted something, during those precious minutes right after Soap created his distraction. Unmarked vehicles, driving off south. They have several possible locations, but until the Vaqueros narrow them down, they’re free to take a moment to rest.

As the Sergeants and himself leave Alejandro’s office, Ghost calls for Soap, and nods to the gym. His Sergeant’s face lights up, his fingertips literally, and he leads the way to the sparring mats.

They both take off their shoes and stand in front of the other, stance lowered and combat ready, “we fight until one taps out.” Ghost grunts. Soap gives him a sharp nod and they’re off.

His Sergeant instantly rushes forward, using his smaller frame to his advantage by trying to duck under Ghost. He expected so, and takes hold of the Scot’s shoulders, pushing both of them down.

They wrestle for a moment, Ghost clearly having the upper hand, Johnny fighting on the defence. Ghost eventually gets hold of the slippery man, and pins him on with his chest down, “you’re distracted, Johnny…”.

“Thinkin’ about what Valeria said to you back there”, Soap growls, pushing Ghost off.

His Sergeant shakes his arms, the fire burning him spreading, “again.”

Ghost feigns a right hook, and grabs Soap’s left arm. The Sergeant uses the grip to shove Ghost down, attempting to pin him, but Ghost can tell he’s not focused, when he manages to wrap his legs around his torso, flip them, and pin him again.

“Been doin’ some thinking myself.” Ghost ponders out loud, “wondering what Graves could’ve said to make you look so…” he murmurs in Johnny’s ear, “intrigued”

Soap is breathing heavily under him, eyes darting around for an exit, “I told ye-”

“I think I’ll be quite interested” Ghost squints, the motion not unnoticed by Soap.

His Sergeant sighs, “he was… offerin’ me a spot on Shadow Company.”

Ghost tightens his grips on Soap’s wrists, “and you refused.” he states. “You fuckin’ refused, right, Johnny?”

“I told him…” the flames on his hands die down, “told him I’ll consider it.”

The sentence feels like a knife shoved down Ghost’s throat, almost like a betrayal, another of his old friends.

Ghost loosens the hold, and Soap immediately breaks free, stepping a meter away from him. “After this mission, I think I should… leave.”

“Why?” What changed? Why does Soap want to get away, and with fuckin’ Graves out of all people?

Soap’s brows turn upwards, his face almost desperate. “I won’t be responsible for your death. I can’t-”

“Do you trust me, Sergeant?”

Johnny is silent for a moment, “yes sir”, he almost whispers.

“You think I’m weak?”

“No!”

“Than you should already know, I’ll not go down easily.” He walks up to Soap, “you wanted to know what Valeria was talking about?”

His blue eyes fill with color, the previous dullness to them fades, “yes sir.”

Ghost looks around, seeing the gym empty and lifeless. The snakes in his heart squeeze, bite and spread their icy venom through his body. His tone is lifeless, belonging more to the man buried under six feet of the Mexican desert sand.

“Roba was a cartel gang leader, they captured my squad. Tortured us for weeks, tried to break me, brainwash me, make me submit.” 

Soap’s hands clenched into fists.

“They failed. Got tired of me. Disposed of me.” he breathes in dirt and rotten flesh, “They killed me. I came back, stronger. Powerful.”

He remembers the shock, the horror as they saw him, a dead man, walk into their base. His eyes flutter shut. He wants to laugh. He wants to cry.

“She was wrong. I didn’t kill them in an hour.”

Nothing exists anymore, just sharp memories and a throbbing phantom pain, “it took less than a minute. Hundred men gone in an instant.”

Something brushes his arm, warm and calming, so unlike his memories.

“I was mistaken. You couldn’t have known what I am before, Soap.” He opens his eyes, and the sight of Johnny’s devastated face would hurt him, if he could feel anything. “You understand now. My purpose is to take revenge on people that hurt me. I am designed to survive the worst this world has to offer.”

Soap now grasps at his arm, the feeling barely registered under the cold blanket constraining him, “Ghost I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t need apologies.” Ghost blinks, tries to focus on his eyes, “just don’t run away.”

Johnny holds onto him tightly, “I won’t.”

He leaves the gym in a daze, distantly hears Soap trailing behind him, uncertain footsteps echoing after his own. The sun has long set, the stars shining high in the night sky.

After he died, he found himself enjoying the twinkling lights. They were the first thing he saw after being reborn, the heralds of his new existence. 

He pulls out a cigarette, rolls the mask up a little. Settles against a wall, about to take out a lighter when Soap stops him, gently lifting a finger. Ghost lights the end of the cigarette on the flickering flame.

He breathes in deep, finally tasting something other than sand on his tongue, Johnny speaking for the first time since they left the gym.

“Thought your Reapin’ was classified.” he huffs.

Ghost rolls the smoke on his tongue before exhaling, “I reckon my favorite color is classified at this point.”

Soap looks up, “what is it?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Figured it was black.”

Ghost raises an eyebrow, “black isn’t a color, Johnny. Dropped outta infant school?”

His Sergeant chuckles, “a’right, dark grey then?”

He pretends to think on it, “yellow.”

“Yer bum’s oot teh window!” Soap laughs.

Ghost blinks confusingly, “English, MacTavish”

“That was English!”

Ghost grumbles, “You said my arse is out a window, Sergeant?”

Johnny doubles over laughing, the sound warm in Ghost’s chest, “aye sir, yer moonin’ the whole base.”

“Giving them a good view” he takes a drag of smoke to hide his small smile.

Soap straightens, giving him that mischievous grin he often wears, “think I know a better one.”

Ghost glances at him, “and what would that be?”

Johnny crowds him against the wall, “yer face, LT. Must be bonnie under that mask of yers, would bet good money on it.”

Warmth thrums through his chest, almost overwhelming. Still, Ghost can’t help leaning into it, like a moth to a flame, uncaring that the fire would bring his demise.

“Maybe I wear the mask ‘cause I’m ugly.” Ghost breathes. The burning smell that always lingers on Soap fills his lungs, and he wishes it would make a home there.

Johnny looks him up and down, smile growing. He stares at Ghost’s eyes, purring, “Ah doubt it.”

Gaz pops most of his body out of a window above them, making them both jump away from each other, “the fuck are you doin’ down there?! Shit, were you snogging? I’ll come back later-”

“We weren’t fuckin’ snoggin’ Gaz!” Soap shouts, flush covering his cheeks. Ghost is still lagging behind, waiting for his brain to come back online. Whatever happened a second ago, it felt like he was in a dream, the world outside melting away, leaving only Ghost and Soap.

Curious how dreams and nightmares are so similar.

“Need something, Garrick?” he finally looks away from Johnny at the floating Sergeant.

“Rudy is making tea! Haven’t had a good cuppa in ages, you coming?”

Soap sighs disappointingly, “fuckin’ Brits.”

“On my way Gaz, don’t you dare take mine.” he stomps on his cigarette and rolls his mask back down.

Despite his grumblings, Soap follows him to the kitchen, taking a mug of tea himself. 

He spat out the liquid after one sip.

Originally I wanted them to fight for like 2 chapters, but they decided they just don't want to and flirt instead

[scaryman-fancam]

REVENANT HEADCANONS - misc - How he handles his affection - implied violence/canon typical behavior - undefined reader relationship

- Revenant is by no means a romantic individual. You won’t be receiving flowers or chocolates, or many gifts at all for that matter. He won’t write you poems, he can’t write much about his feelings anyway. Instead his affection manifests in an obsessive way. His experience and skill set as a perfect murder bot come in handy when it comes to you. He follows you and watches oh so carefully, soaking in every detail of you, memorizing your body language. He teaches himself your patterns, your reactions. You are living, by no means entirely predictable, but he becomes so familiar that he *craves* your reactions and interactions, even if they’re anticipated. He’ll call you over, and internally screams at the bit of nervousness in your eyes as you approach him. You give a smile to mask your apprehension. You don’t look directly at his eyes, kind of to the side. *He anticipates all of it.* He’s so familiarized with your routine that every time you act out your mannerisms and personal social routine, it’s like a dopamine rush, if he still had that.

- He has a lot of trouble processing his feelings. He’s so used to being angry, programmed to channel that rage into violence and destruction. So used to his feelings ultimately ending in his hands bloodied, the thrill of his successful hunt coursing through his circuits, hardly even a disillusion of a man, only a horrible shadow of a beast. When he’s suddenly instead filled with a warm, fluttery feeling and a distinct thrum of infatuation, he copes the only way he knows how. He spends hours in the firing range, tearing targets apart with his bare hands (claws?) when the sound of bullets hitting the metal no longer satiates the feeling. The poor thing becomes overwhelmed, you have him in such a precarious situation. He is practically throwing a tantrum, reduced to thrashing and attacking the targets, the ground, screaming, clawing, overheating. It’s been so long since he’s been human, he can hardly remember how he coped with these feelings before.

- His tummy butterfly induced tantrums bleed out into the games as well, especially if you’re on his team. Ten times the merciless murderbot he normally is, if he weren’t restricted to guns and grenades, surely he’d tear straight into the enemy team with his bare hands, a brutish and carnivorous display of what he’d do to keep you his team alive. The games wouldn’t be aired live if he got to act out on what was nessecary to burn off the excitement of the feelings you gave him, but the second you’d congratulate him on wiping out that squad, with that sweet little twinkle in your eye, that sound of triumph, he’d need to do it all over again. He’d flick you on the forehead, or give you a shove as he walks past to a death box, “Too early to celebrate, skin suit. Still 5 more squads left.”

- He would often think about how you’re just a living flesh bag. The thought alone would excite him if it were anyone else, but this undeniable vulnerability and fragility of your being has him on edge. In the games he has to remind himself that you’re always a revive away if something happens. There’s a respawn beacon nearby, he can get you back. But outside the games? All of the lurking has become both his favorite pass time and his self proclaimed purpose. If he’s caught? “I’m keeping you safe, skin bag. Never know who’s lurking around the corner. After all, you didn’t see me coming, did you?”

[onthecrescentofthehill]

g1deon and pyrrha + gideon and harrow throughlines scattered in all of tlt continue to drive me insane.

the initial investigation scenes post the 5th deaths where the 2nd house tries to pull cohort rank control of the situation, gideon & harrow immediately sneak away to learn that the winnowing trial was developed by the second house and cohort founders, g1deon & pyrrha. winnowing as incorporating the other, refusing distractions for the sake of true control, loyalty and duty.

gideon is wearing his sunglasses, rifling through their things. she doesn’t see it as a real place someone would live in, only a stop along the way to somewhere else, more whole.

she sees a gun on the wall that her mother's ghost will use the river memory of to try and kill harrow in the dream of cannan house:

It took Gideon a long time to realise that she was looking at something goddamn ancient: it was a blowback carbine gun. She’d only ever seen pictures. ….. The hairs on the back of Gideon’s neck had risen when the lights came on, and they hadn’t gone back down, as if her intrusion might well tempt time back to claim its grave goods. GTN chapter 19

Carbine rifle, read the key. For a moment she pitied Judith Deuteros’s last seconds. To be killed with this ancient piece of grave goods! It would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time. HTN chapter 18

gideon reads "one flesh, one end" for the first time. she tells harrow these people were living in each others pockets, the same phrase she'll later use to describe the two of them. pyrrha spent nearly 10,000 years locked in a drawer in gideon the first’s mind bc he couldn't bear to let her go. gideon tells harrow how they feel like strangers despite growing up together.

harrow cant stand the thought and in less than a month harrow will lock gideon in a drawer and gideon the first will relentlessly try to kill harrow in her waking hours to spare her the agony he'll never learn is closely parallel to his, and when she fails to hear his real name her brain starts bleeding:

And he had said: “Ortus, have pity.”

“This is my pity, Lord,” said the Saint of Duty. HTN chapter 20

g1deon was john’s oldest friend, he carried that suitcase in his loyalty to him. then he becomes an amnesiac, immortal thanergy void, absorbing and nullifying the echoes of that catastrophe. founding the cohort that flips planets in the exact mirror to the ecological tragedy they all sacrificed everything to spare earth from. over and over again.

He didn’t even ask me to explain. That was the kind of guy he was. He and I had grown up on the same street. I’d spotted him for mince pies all the time as kids, so stands to reason he let me cut off his arm and carried a nuke for me. John 1:20

in g+p’s room harrow says that theyre all the ninth house has ( = you’re all that i have). gideon firmly says shes "NO ONE'S son or daughter"

but in less than a year gideon’s mother, sitting opposite her father, will recognize pyrrha with a sense of profound relief before her revenant is unceremoniously killed. gideon will watch through harrows eyes, in hiding:

Harrow, I will never forget the look on her face as long as I live, or as long as I die. (…) It was the smile for your old cellmate who’d just landed back in prison, the one that told them at least you were in it together—or more correctly, the smile of someone stepping out of jail after serving a very long sentence, having seen someone there waiting for her. Someone whose presence meant total reprieve, someone she hadn’t expected. It was a little bit mocking. It was deeply relieved. HTN chapter 50

i don’t have a conclusion to this rn i’m just……much to think abt. the displacement of grief, the loyalty through control, how it just happens over and over and over again and they just bear witness as tools or trapped souls or revenants, clinging to anything they can even if they don’t remember it.