#dante is anxious

[x1702x]

COMEDIA #1

«Charon's boat»

The Divine comedy - Inferno

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Just a little comic I made for funzies in class. The artstyle was kinda winged and experimental ^^

[sugarsnappeases]

do it anxious but ‘it’ is literally just organising my timetable for the term

[fishareglorious]

HELP ME

[fella-lovin-fella]

reeeaaallllyyy hope my boyfriend doesn't want to go shopping as soon as he gets off work because he gets off in half an hour and im about to toke 😬

[a-passing-storm]

Honestly, I’m so glad that I live in a time and place where people don’t get crucified or burned alive. 

[dmc5se]

i bought the little keychain sized dante bean. portable dante bean

[stealingsocieties]

Just want to say that your art style is pretyy af TWT!!!! The way you draw Dante is just KSJKSKAKSKSNHAWNG NHAWWNG 💖💖

I love your artworks!!

THANK YEW SO MUCH ANON UR SO SWEET ILUUUUU!!!!!! <3333

[andrew-byass]

DevilDice fankids doodle masterpost #2

A compilation of more doodles of my conjoined twins Rattlin and Bones. Featuring Dante, Diablo (the red Dice twins), and Dominic (the white and purple demon) who belong to @tomdragamer

Exploring a bunch of different ideas, including their adult designs, Rattlin having a boyfriend when he's an adult (his name is Rome), the boys having demonic powers as an offshoot from The Devil, Dice being anxious about his boys health and wellbeing etc...

Rattlin and Bones masterpost #1

[vinnytotherescue]

Hello! Can I request a drabble in which the reader is very affectionate with V’s familiars (kisses and pets) and how he would react to it? Thank you so much!

i love this so much! we are just going to ignore the fact that I just learned that Shadow is a male...How did i not notice while playing-_-

also, Shadow i only focused on griffon and shadow hope you don't mind!

warnings: none pure fluff

V x Reader: Cuddles with the familiars

Being V’s significant other ultimately meant being able to tolerate two seemingly dangerous and overly protective familiars. That made V very anxious since he knew that not a lot of people would be able to handle such creatures. Their dark nature always scared people away. Yet you were not scared, you were fascinated. Somehow, you could even say that you had some kind of invisible bond with both Griffon and Shadow. From the moment you met them you fell in love with them and they with you, V never understood that but he nevertheless he was very grateful. 

Opening the door to your shared apartment you were faced with a silent V reading his book. Two seconds passed and before you could properly enter you were tackled down by shadow, griffon flying right next to your head. V turned his head to observe the scene, something that would occur every time you would return from work. But still it wasn’t something you could get used to. 

“Took you long enough huh (y/n)? Shadow got worried over there” Shadow just gave Griffon a death stare and continued laying in your lap. V had gotten off the couch by now and was standing next to you with a smirk on his face. 

“Griffon don’t be mean to Shadow, or we both know where you will end up” A giggle left your mouth and you turned to see and extended hand waiting for you to take it.

“I see, i think they like you more than me” V pulled you to your feet and you wrapped your arms around his waist , burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

“That’s not true and you know it” The room filled with your giggles as you stared into V’s green eyes. After detaching yourself from him you dragged him back to the couch this time your head in his lap. Your head was pounding like crazy from the intensity of your day at work and the only thing you could think about was how you were going to relax with V close to you. 

“Hard day at work?” his velvety voice was so soothing to your ears after the screaming and yelling in the office. Nero and Dante were a handful to manage. Your body curled closer to his as you nodded and you could feel your muscles relax as he stroked your head. A small smile found its place on your face as you felt something warm curling on your legs. You slightly raised your head and was faced with a sleepy Shadow. 

“You are sleepy too my boy?” you pet the huge jaguar as he now lay still on your legs, his dense fur  providing warmth to your tired body. Griffon felt left out completely so he came and took his usual place close to your chest, your arms slowly curling around him, careful not to hurt his beautiful wings. V could feel his heart warm up at the sight. He never expected this turn of events, he was beyond relieved that you three were so close. You always wanted some kind of a pet and V having two familiars was just perfect. 

Kissing both Griffon and Shadow on their heads you felt your eyes become more and more droopy as time passed by. 

“Don’t I get a kiss?” V stared at you his eyebrows raised from the lack of attention from you. You turned your head toward him mouthing a soft sorry in your way and placed a kiss on his cheek. After seeing his deadpan expression you tiredly giggled again and gave him a normal kiss on the lips. 

Your lips parted and you just went back to your original position, one arm hugging Shadow and one hugging Griffon.

“Want me to read you a bit?” You quickly nodded your head at the suggestion and closed your eyes enjoying his smooth voice filling the room. 

“I love you all” 

The words slowly started to merge into one and your breathing slowed down as you surrendered to dreamland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you for reading!! ;)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

3/9 Hope is a Dangerous Thing

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

She googled the name Simon Riley and found close to nothing. He wasn't on Facebook or any other social media platform, and she was pretty sure he had given her a false name until a short news article popped up. It was in some Manchester local paper, and from almost 20 years ago. He had won medals in local school olympics, and even with the black and white raster image and a 20 year younger, estimated 90 pounds skinnier Simon Riley, she could recognize that jaw and those eyes.

Days passed by, and he sent her a message every night. They communicated only through text – he never called. It felt like she was living in the turn of the century, the way he refused to use social media or any messaging app. He asked her how her school was, what classes she was taking at the moment, and if work was good. She sent her a photo every night before going to sleep; it simply became a habit. Some were cuter, some were naughtier, but he always expressed his gratitude with a sly, sexy comeback that made her think she might actually be the only girl Simon was texting with.

He rarely disclosed anything about his work, and never sent another picture even when she tried to request one in a roundabout way. She soon stopped fishing for more details of his work because he always redirected the conversation elsewhere. All she knew was that he was used in some special operations of a private, international company. And from what she could deduce from that one single picture he had sent her, the company he worked for had a lot of money.

The headset, the tactical gear, the weapon she distinguished with another profound googling session to be some sort of an assault rifle… All that shit spoke the language of international investors with certain political interests. Simon was doing something that most likely included hybrid warfare, clandestine operations, dealing with nuclear threats and bio-weapons and whatnot.

She wondered why he had been so trusting; after all, she knew his whole name now and knew it wasn't an alias but his real, actual childhood name. Not that she was any kind of threat. Perhaps that was why…

But what made her a bit depressed was that he also didn't seem to regard her as someone he needed to protect. By staying in contact with him, she supposed she was taking at least some kind of a risk. But Simon didn't seem to care. It was both exciting and infuriating to keep in touch with a man like him.

After six days of excited, heated messaging, he sent a text "Off to work." It wasn't that cryptic; she figured it meant that he wasn't to be disturbed or that he wouldn't be able to talk for a while.

A while… that turned into a week.

She found herself zoning out in dull classes, thinking about what Simon was doing right now. Was he infiltrating some foreign military base, or going on a mission to prevent a hijacking, or storming a terrorist compound, or… whatever the fuck soldiers like himself did.

She began her day with a caffeine overdose and then went to listen to some professor talk about medieval manuscripts or Dante Gabriel Rossetti or curse tablets of ancient Rome, only to realize she was thinking about Simon firing his assault rifle in another continent with a skull mask on. She kept thinking about whether he was in danger, whether he would come back, whether she would ever see him again.

The while turned into another week, and she began to get anxious. Should she text him and ask how he was doing? Ask “You still at work?” or “What about that date?”

The last message she had sent was a reply to his work announcement. Have fun! — from 17 days ago.

17 days.

Was he dead?

His message It's your fault if I get killed now seemed more like a gloomy prediction of a future without Simon Riley.

But at the beginning of the third week of silence, she realized she had just been an idiot. Simon wasn't dead or injured or taken prisoner or anything like that.

He had simply forgotten about her.

He had realized she was not a Bond girl after all, but just another boring chick. He had found someone better. Something like that. A man like him could have pretty much any woman on this planet if he wanted to.

That was just the way the world was built.

She wouldn't say that she was depressed. She wouldn’t admit that she was devastated. She just needed a little time to clear her head.

It was difficult to sleep, and school felt more boring than ever. Work just reminded her of him. One day, she nearly fell from the pole while doing a simple straddle because she saw a man looking like Simon walk in the club.

He had given her an exorcism, only to replace the demons that haunted her with himself. Now she needed an exorcism from Simon, but no one knew how to do that.

She just needed to give it time, sleep it away, study it away… Distractions filled her day, and still, she refreshed their conversation every night before going to sleep, as if it was a fault in her phone that prevented his messages from reaching her. And felt like a stupid bitch, a lovesick fool while doing so.

And then, one Tuesday afternoon, after almost four weeks, he appeared at her uni.

She was arriving from a class that had just ended when she hurried past a man she had been pining for for 25 days.

"You working tonight?"

Hearing that voice in a place she had least expected to hear it made her shoulders shoot up and her breath get caught in her throat as she stopped and turned around.

"Jesus…- You scared me."

He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Boo."

"When did you… What are you doing here?"

She didn't say I'm happy to see you. I missed you. That would've sounded too desperate. Right? Even after 25 days.

He looked her up and down, and her knees felt like pudding.

"I like to stalk school girls."

She tried to suppress her smile. God, she had missed that cheeky humour.

"Pervert. No, I don't have a shift tonight."

"Then I can finally take you out on that date."

It was like her dreams had suddenly come true in one single minute. She went from a bird with a broken wing to Icarus flying toward the sun.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You'll see."

He was even taller than she remembered, broader, even when he was wearing all black. People were staring at them, staring at him, because he certainly didn’t look like someone who studied in the Art and Culture Department.

"How did you even know I was here right now?"

"Doesn't really need a rocket scientist to find that out, luv."

Right. But the fact that he had made the effort to dig up what classes she took, when and where, and then come and surprise her like this, made her heart ache. He gave her another once-over, and she squeezed her bag against her chest like that could shield her from the searing gaze.

"You look hot."

And that definitely made her blush… She was an umptieth year student and didn't bother to take pains anymore when she dragged herself in the class. She had her comfiest ballerinas on, her hair was tied to a simple ponytail, and she had no foundation, no mascara, only a bit of her favourite lipstick on. She was wearing a huge, flowy skirt the color of a Halloween pumpkin and a black, simple turtleneck — while perhaps neat and cute in this environment, to him, she would've thought she looked more like a librarian. Far from a hot Bond girl who danced at a strip club with curled hair and cat eye makeup.

"Um.."

"Such a diligent little student."

It seemed he did have an actual thing for school girls, even if they were almost 30 years old. She would never have guessed that this would send him itching. If Simon preferred the girl next door look to her being half-naked on a stage with a pole, then perhaps she did have a chance after all.

"I knew you were a good girl but I didn't know- "

"Stop it, people can hear you," she hissed while, in truth, feeling quite exalted by that good girl talk. She grabbed him by the arm, and he allowed her to guide him out of the building while looking perfectly content with himself and what he was doing to her.

They began the walk to her place so she could shower and get changed for whatever he had in mind for that date. The complete turnaround in her mood, the shot of hormones and giddy feelings and butterflies in the stomach left her feeling shaky. Even the colors seemed more vivid all of a sudden. It was a bit frightening how one single person could change the whole world in a second, have a remedy for all the shit she had been rolling in for the past week. Or two weeks. Or three.

"Sorry that it took so long. Work was... a bit of a challenge."

"It's okay."

Well, it really was not, but she would rather die than tell him that.

"It's better if you don't know where I am and when. I hope you understand that."

Safety measures for her sake after all. Now she felt almost flattered that he hadn't told her he was coming. Jesus...

"Yeah. Sure," she tried to sound neutral about it, but the sudden shyness that had taken over made it sound like she was being passive-aggressive. "I mean, I didn't expect you to entertain me every night."

Well, that sounded even more sour and pathetic… She snapped her mouth shut and tried to calm her heart that was racing from his presence, his scent which had been only a memory until now.

"So, what will you become when you graduate? A historian?”

"I’ve always wanted to work in a gallery. You know, as an art curator or something like that."

"Hm. Ambitious."

She wasn’t entirely sure if he was mocking her, but she laughed. In the culture business, it was a sought-after position, but of course it wouldn't seem like much to someone who wasn’t familiar with the art world.

"What about you? What do you wanna be when you grow up?"

"Alive."

Simon's humour was dark, but after seeing that picture of him, she knew he meant what he said. And she realized that it wasn't perhaps one of her most brilliant ideas to get attached to a man who could actually be killed.

When they got to her place, she went straight to the shower and left the door open, secretly wishing that he would be the one to sneak in this time. But he never showed up, and when she stepped into her small living room, she found Simon had dozed off on her sofa. He barely fit her neat little couch and was lying on his stomach, with one hand dangling out and brushing the floor. The soft snore made it clear that he was very tired and not just chilling in a very relaxed position.

It was a cute sight, downright adorable.

But it also hurt her heart. What made him so exhausted, time after time, month after month? He wouldn’t tell her, and it was futile to ask. The man was overloaded with stress and things ordinary civilians had no clue about. She had no clue about.

He must think of her as a harmless little mouse who knew nothing of the world's darkness. And she didn't. She had her own demons and traumas, but didn't everybody? Simon, on the other hand, seemed to have the combined lives of a gladiator, spy, and war veteran. He had access to a reality that was out of sight and mind for the rest of the civilized world.

Was Simon a good guy or a bad guy? Was he a hero that saved people, or a soldier who executed orders of rape, torture, and kill?

These were questions she had never thought she would need to find answers to. The guys she had dated had been equally as harmless as her. If not even more harmless. And that was saying something.

When she had dressed, she walked to him and heard how the snoring stopped immediately.

Simon was awake and listening. He had woken just from a few soft steps, from her tiptoeing and kneeling beside the sofa, and she wondered if he had been trained for this; to wake up when someone was sneaking up on him. The thought was both gruesome and spine-tingling.

But she hadn’t meant to steal his precious sleep. And if he was so exhausted, he should sleep and not take her out…

Now that he was supposedly awake, she dared to raise a hand and caress his back, remembering what he had said in the shower when she had stroked him. His upper back was tense, even when he was lying relaxed like this, and she felt pity: someone should give this man a back rub, a whole body massage to get those muscles loose. Get some blood flowing. She caressed him with the back of her palm, then slowly traced every little vertebra of his spinal column with two fingers.

He was using both one of the cushions and her sweater as a pillow. Something in the sight of him pressed against her old, snug woolen shirt made her hand come to a halt somewhere on his lower back.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered, sleepy against the softness of her home and hand. She had to fight back the reflexive flinch: his voice was always so rough, even when he whispered and the words were muffled by the support his head was resting on.

“You have tension in your back,” she told him, not knowing why she was whispering too. It wasn’t like he was about to dart off from a sudden noise.

He merely purred for an answer, still sounding drowsy and half-asleep. How disarmed and defenseless he seemed now… On that little couch, under her gentle touch.

“I need to buy you a massage gift card for Christmas,” she blurted and regretted it immediately.

Buy him a Christmas present? As if they were some kind of a couple already… As if this wasn’t barely the second time they were spending time together.

At first, Simon didn’t show any signs of wanting to escape that hopeful suggestion of them becoming something more than just fuck buddies someday. But then he suddenly turned, and she took her hand away.

“I’d rather have you massage me,” he offered with a soft smile and a dreamy stare.

Good. Good, everything was good..

She hadn’t ruined it, hadn’t lost another poker game to this man. She still had cards to play.

She noticed the obvious signs of his arousal and felt wild in the breeze of the moment. Or perhaps she wanted to brush away what she had just said — and make him forget it too.

She reached for his pants to take them off, and he helped her with them, clearly having no objections to what she was about to do. Which was giving him a blowjob that would erase the traces of him thinking he had an obligation to buy her a present for this Christmas.

When she took him in her mouth, he grabbed the edge of the sofa as if the situation was a little too much for him.

"Didn't see that coming…"

His voice had an edge of trepidation to it. Uneasiness, almost worry. But he must've liked it, for he eased into it shortly after, slumped back onto the couch, and spread his legs in relaxation. She guided her frustration and doubts into the blowjob, tried to turn into someone else — to that girl from the stage. The Bond girl he had met, the woman of his dreams: just anything but a meek little woman who rarely left her house except for class or work.

She was fully present, not sloppy at all, almost felt like a magician as she forced groans out of him and felt his balls pull taut under her touch. He would never fit inside her mouth completely, but she tried her best.

She sure as hell made an effort.

"You must've really missed m- ah… Fuck.."

It was pretty evident that he enjoyed it. After those weeks at work, perhaps this was what he had wanted all along? To come somewhere safe, some place completely different, and throw himself on a soft couch for a quick nap before some homely girl came to give him a few caresses and a blowjob.

She swirled her tongue around the tip, gave him a little suck, then took him in as far as she could and felt him all the way at the back of her throat.

"Bloody hell Sarah..."

It couldn't be that good…

But he was all but melting under her tongue and touch. Was it just that it had been so long, or was this a rarity in his life? She'd thought that women touched him often, but apparently, they didn't. Or then he didn't allow them to.

Perhaps Simon didn't allow himself to be touched by women. He made love to them and fucked them against a wall in the shower, but he didn't get attention and caresses and blowjobs.

Well, this was news.

It didn't take too long before he came with a hoarse grunt that nearly made her shrink from him. It sounded both sublime and painful, and sent ripples of gold in her stomach and a pang of wet heat between her legs. The load was generous, but she didn't pull away, briefly wondering how awkward it would be to choke on his cum the second time they met. It had been a while for him, then, and she felt disappointed. It wasn't anything special after all, merely the cause of him not having had the opportunity, desire, or time to fap.

His chest was heaving, and she had made a mess in her attempt to swallow it all while keeping everything under control. With Simon, she wasn’t in control, and she had no choice but to accept it.

He reached a hand to absentmindedly caress her hair, and she rested her head on his thigh — but they didn't stay that way for long, for he stirred, and she had to draw back.

"Your turn," he suddenly rose from the couch while still looking like someone who was about to pass out. He got out of his pants, pulled his shirt over his head, threw it somewhere on the floor, and hauled her up in a bridal carry. He literally swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom, and she must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.

Because Simon was and wasn't safe.

He had strength, charisma, and forearms to die for, but he didn't feel like someone she would choose to tell her every secret, someone who she would call if she needed help. He came into her world and walked out of it like there was a swinging door between the two of them.

He didn't commit. Which meant that she couldn't commit. Which furthermore meant that she had trouble getting wet.

As infuriating as it was, dark and dangerous didn't exactly turn her on. This wasn't dating; this was more like an adventure or a roller coaster ride. She didn't know what phase they were in because the usual dating-related stuff was off the board. There was nothing to hold on to.

He laid her on the bed, crawled next to her, then reached a hand under another skirt she had chosen for going out with him.

"Perhaps later," she whispered as his hand was already traveling up her thigh. She almost took those words right back when she saw the obvious hurt flash in his eyes. She didn't know if she had de a chip to his pride or if it was something else, but he clearly hadn't expected her to say no to him again.

"Why won't you let me touch you?"

"I…"

She didn't know what to tell him.

What could she say? That she felt unsafe with him? That wasn't even entirely true.

She couldn't tell him that she needed trust and commitment while knowing he couldn't give them to her. Her shy silence stretched on, and the frightened state she was in only worsened when he stared at her, tilted his head, and wouldn't remove his hand.

Then he kissed her — unhurriedly, languidly, and the hand just stayed there under the skirt, pressed against her thigh, firm and broad. Only after she answered his kiss with a shy hunger did he move it further up, up — until it came to rest on her sex.

The kissing finally did it: at some point, she could feel the sudden rush of wetness down below. Her lips trembled when he pulled away only an inch and looked into her eyes while their breaths danced in between their lips. His palm moved only a tiny bit; he was soothing her, coaxing her to open for him. Eventually, his fingers met the soaked spot on her panties, and she swallowed. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, just a tiny little hint that he knew he was doing it right.

"Did you like the picture I sent you?"

Oh fuck.

"Um, yeah.."

He pressed a finger against the center of her wetness, covered only by the thin fabric, and she tried to draw breath as inaudibly as she could.

"Did you get wet?"

So fucking cocky…

"Yes, she whispered against his lips, which finally curved into a small smile.

"Come again?"

"Yes."

The smile widened into a smirk as he moved to slip underneath the fabric. Her folds parted without effort as he guided his finger over her, the length and thickness now resting on her entrance and all the wetness that only increased by the second. She was blinking and breathing shallowly against his mouth while he simply continued to drink in every sign of her unease and arousal.

"Is that why you asked for more?"

Oh God… 

"Yes. Would you just-"

"Begging already?"

He was so… infuriating. So cocky, so damn self-confident… It drove her crazy.

"No."

Something flickered in his eyes, a twinkle of endearment.

And not just a twinkle. It was bold, blazing mischief. Shit… She was fucked.

"I'll make you beg."

Oh my God…

He moved even lower, then dipped one finger in, so deep that she was left blinking again. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she realized she must be looking like a fish on dry land. He pulled out, and she wanted to protest, but her pride stood in the way. The moisture was spread all over her folds, especially over the tight, sensitive bud that had been left without attention for so long from the sadness and hopelessness, from her having thought Simon wouldn't come back. She couldn't even touch herself because she had already gotten used to thinking about him when she did that.

A shaky little moan finally hit his lips, and he kissed her again while drawing a circle on the bud, sweeping a few strokes across her folds, then driving two fingers in. Slowly, lovingly. The laced fabric that was stretched to give him space must be sodden by now, but he wouldn't pause to take it away. He just continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers while holding that kiss, holding her steady with his mouth only.

He had taken her hesitation as a challenge, and she wondered if she was some kind of a challenge to him overall. If something in her made him want to break her, get to the bottom of her, get a reaction out of her… And he was succeeding splendidly. She was everything but frigid now. He only needed a finger or two to make her like this. And perhaps that voice of his. That stupid cockiness.

He left her mouth and pulled out, only to finally reach for her poor underwear and take it off. She didn't object this time, but when he moved between her legs and she realized he was about to replace those panties with his face, she jerked away from him.

"Hold on…"

"Nah. You hold on."

He wouldn't relent. He simply pressed his mouth against her pussy which, by now, was wet to the point of leaking, and grabbed hold of her hips as if to remind her that she couldn't get away even if she tried. She could only sink back to the bed and let him have his way: to embark on a mission to make her beg.

And she did beg, eventually, when he pressed his tongue flat against her and plunged it inside, and sucked her clit and did it all with such infuriating patience and laid-back attitude that it made her squirm against him. He caressed her with his tongue, those lips, caressed her with his thumb before guiding it inside as well while kissing her thighs, now wide open for him.

She didn't beg with words, but she did coat the air with sighs and moans that must've stroked his ego like nothing else. Even the stubble did its job: it didn’t sting. It only drove her more mad. She could hear him chuckle against her occasionally, could feel him smile in her pussy as he ruined her with that mouth. Even the intrusive thoughts of whether Simon had done this to dozens of women before her and would do it to dozens after her didn't prevent her from approaching the peak in minutes, mere minutes…

Just as she was about to grasp his hair for support, to brace herself for the incoming, he withdrew. The bastard rose to sit and left her shaking and whimpering.

"Wh-… why did you…"

He was licking his lips, smiling, and stroking himself, fully erect again. The fact that he was hard from pleasing her with his mouth, left her feeling even more weak.

"You want it?"

"Fucking hell, Simon." She knew how she must look: dripping wet, with desperation in her eyes and a shaky curse on her lips.

"Is that a beg?"

He placed the thick tip to her entrance, and she throbbed and writhed against him like she was about to come from the slightest touch of that cock.

"Yeah… Yes, please, Simon, just-"

He granted her plea to the full before she had even finished it. The spread, the feeling of being filled with him, was so exquisitely divine that it only took less than five thrusts before she came.

He looked annoyingly pleased while watching her have one of the most powerful, gratifying, leg-shaking orgasms of her life. Perhaps it was only a proper way to greet a man who had been inside her head for so long: who was finally inside her for the first time in four desolate weeks. She didn't feel wild or raw now; she felt like molasses, like puddle of tears, a boneless, limp heap of muscle from all that love and gentle fucking.

After the tension, tremblings, and shaky sighs had left her, and she was merely panting, he finally stopped. Lodged deep inside her to feel the rest of the waves, he was still watching her. The stare of those warm eyes was too much to bear after another implosion that made her even more attached to this man.

"If you call me a good girl, I swear I'll slap you again," she whispered. The body against him shook from silent laughter. He kissed her again, buried his fingers in her hair, gave her another rock of his hips. And then, suddenly stopped just to whisper in her ear…

"That's my good girl."

Fuck…. 

It was useless. Utterly, completely useless with Simon.

"Ok… Ok." She tried to gather herself while he was still inside her, still filling her and shielding her with his body. "You're asking for it, so I'm not giving it to you."

"Poor me," he answered with that gruff, heart melting voice.

She was laughing again, smiling for the first time in days. Beaming, even…. Probably looking like a brain-dead idiot.

"This was a good date. I had fun."

In her opinion, it was the best date ever, but would she let him know it and stroke that ego further? Hell no.

"This wasn't what I had in mind," he hummed while moving to kiss her neck.

"What if we just stayed here for the rest of the day?"

"Wouldn't mind that."

“You know.. I... really missed you,” she finally confessed with a whisper while he was preoccupied with her neck; safely somewhere else than right there in front of her, staring her in the eyes, gathering evidence of her vulnerability. He huffed a chuckle against her skin in response, sounding close to relieved.

"I missed you too."

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | you can find the request page here! | more utc

𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | a mystreet reader insert fanfic

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

there's nothing here for now!

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

pipsqueak | zenix x short!reader

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

slumber party! | aphmau & reader | fluff, platonic

unlikely protector | gene x reader | hurt/comfort, hidden feelings

good game | katelyn & reader | fluff, slice of life, platonic

me? | zenix x reader | fluff, friends to more

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

fluff alphabets | garroth ☆ laurance ☆ gene ☆ travis

road trip headcanons | ft. garroth, laurance, travis, dante, zane, katelyn, & nana

character face claims

type of drunks they are

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

kinks | ft. blaze, garroth, gene, & laurance | nsfw

honeymoon | ft. blaze, dante, garroth, gene, & laurance | nsfw

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

late night study | garroth x reader | fluff, romantic tension

rooftop date | gene x reader | fluff, romantic tension

mission cupid! | gene x reader | fluff, confession, friends to more

young love | gene x reader | fluff, established relationship

you're alive | gene x reader | angst, hurt/comfort, confession?, friends to more

home cooked meal | laurance x reader | fluff, married, suggestive

really, really? | nana & reader | fluff, slice of life, platonic

the coolest | sasha & reader | fluff, slice of life, platonic

adore you | zane x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort. established relationship

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

there's nothing here for now!

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

there's nothing here for now!

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

stay | laurance x reader | angst, hurt/comfort, hidden feelings

couldn't compare | laurance x reader | fluff, established relationship

𝐂.𝐀𝐈

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇

laurance | prompt: while waiting for laurance to get out of soccer practice, you get hit on, causing your boyfriend to get a little jealous.

gene | prompt: at the school’s annual halloween festival for the students, you get dared to wander through the dark, blocked-off part of the school. just when you think you’re safe, a certain tall student with a ghostface costume on finds you…

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

laurance | prompt: on a dare, you and laurance were paired to go through a haunted house together.

gene | prompt: after a long day, you want nothing more than to relax in your boyfriend’s presence

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

laurance | prompt: after the group has to flee phoenix drop through the cursed forest, laurance is on edge and anxious for your safety.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

laurance | prompt: the man you had been curiously observing from off the shore is deathly injured. going against the warnings of your kind, you decide to rescue him.

garroth | prompt: as you curiously tried to observe humankind, you were snatched out of the water by a pirate captain named garroth ro'meave. will you be able to convince him to release you back into the sea?

[icycoldninja]

Headcanons for the Sparda boys and V with a s/o that got turned into a demon? (As for how: My best guess is something like the Ascension ceremony from DMC4.)

Reader shows up to the Devil May Cry one day after healing from a cooking related injury (burned hand, knife slipped and cut them, whatever), because they were kinda hoping the people at Devil May Cry could help. They'd probably be hesitant to tell anyone they're a demon right out- if that's even what they are, because they're not really sure themselves- but the lads could probably piece it together. Or just sense/smell the other demon nearby. Reader probably just thinks the shop and the shop employees stink, but if trying to be polite about it.

Not sure if humans/human blood would smell tasty to a new demon, but maybe? If so, that's another horrifying change they'd have to deal with and ask for help on.

Very interesting concept, hope I did it justice. Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V X Demon!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Your transformation was relatively recent, but terrifying. You'd managed to keep it a secret from everyone since the day you discovered your sudden change, but coping on your own was hard.

-You were constantly anxious about hurting the others unexpectedly, as demons are known to do, and couldn't concentrate on most of your tasks.

-You ended up burning your hand on the stove one night while trying to heat up some dinner, and in your panic, decided to head to Devil May Cry to see if someone could help you.

-At the same time, you hoped someone would notice your situation and help you out, though how could they? You had no physical changes, just internal ones.

-When you set foot into Devil May Cry, your heightened sense of smell caught the scent of something oddly appealing. You had no idea what it was, or why it smelled so good, but it did, and following the scent led you to the staff.

-The girls didn't think anything of it and assumed you were just disoriented because of your burn, but the boys--Dante specifically, noticed your behavior and thought it was weird that you were behaving the same way as demons did when they were tracking their prey.

-After your burn was dressed, he pulled you aside to ask you if anything was wrong. The concern in his eyes as well as the unusually grim timbre of his voice proved that he knew something was wrong. There was no other choice than to come clean.

-And so you revealed your secret, explaining how you'd been forced to take part in some sort of dark ritual whose side effects manifested days later. You broke down in tears, sobbing over your changed state, expressing your worries that you'd never be able to turn back.

-Dante took your hands and pulled you into his chest, pressing kisses to your head as he assured you everything would be fine. He'd help you find a cure, no matter what it took.

-He told you that no matter what you turned into, he'd still love you, and he'd be more than happy to offer up some of his blood if you need to feed, as some species of demons do.

■ Vergil ■

-The day you noticed your transformation, which came in the form of scales breaking out all over your body, as well as sharp fangs that replaced several of your teeth.

-You tried to hide it, but Vergil was a very observant man. He knew something was wrong, but chose not to say anything because he wanted you to come to him on his own. Also, there was a chance it was just you being moody, in which case, he didn't want to get involved.

-Your scales soon spread to your hands, making it hard for you to feel things with your palms and fingers. This made chopping food with knives very difficult because you couldn't feel the knife or the food in your hands.

-At one point the knife slipped, cutting the back of your hand. Swearing like a sailor, you bundled your hand up in a rag and stumbled off to Devil May Cry for someone to heal the injury.

-The moment you got there, you smelled something awful. It was worse than rotting food; it was beyond putrid. Just what was that smell?!

-Then you walked into the kitchen, where everyone was gathered at the time, and the smell got worse. It quickly became apparent that the smell was coming from the staff.

-While the girls helped fix up your wound, you did your best to keep your disgust from being expressed upon your face. Despite your best efforts, Vergil noticed that something was definitely wrong with you.

-He approached you, hoping to inquire about your strange behavior, but the proximity between the two of you resulted in the horrible smell getting worse, untill it was too much to bear.

-You started coughing and gagging, your hands flying up to clutch your throat. When Vergil saw the scales on your hands, he instantly realized what was wrong with you.

-He immediately stepped back into the next room and spoke to you from afar. You confessed, begrudgingly, that you'd been turned into a demon somehow and that you were able to smell human blood, which was disgusting. You expressed your fear and discomfort, to which Vergil assured you he would find a cure.

-In the meantime, your task would be figuring out how to grow accustomed to your demonic sense of smell--and the stinkiness of human blood.

□ Nero □

-Nero was actually present when you turned during the ceremony, and therefore was more involved when the aftershocks began to surface.

-You grew a tail, your eyes changed color, and your pupils dilated to slits. You also became noticeably more hungry for raw meat.

-Nero started to freak out over your erratic behavior and was very reluctant to leave you alone, but you insisted, and so he complied.

-Unfortunately, Nero's fears became more justified after he learned you tried to grab a steak off a steaming hot frying pan, burning your whole hand in the process.

-When you reached Devil May Cry to ask him to patch up your burnt hand, you smelled the unmistakable, extremely appetizing scent of human blood.

-Had Nero not been physically holding you back, you might have leaped forward and tried to devour everyone in the shop.

-After tying you down to a chair and dressing your burns, Nero made a vow to search for a cure for you as soon as possible--before the transformation got any worse and turned you into a full on, bloodthirsty demon.

-He would be gone for a long, long time, leading you to lock yourself inside your own home and give Nero the only key so you couldn't break out and wreak havoc while he was away.

-The next few months, or maybe years, would be trying times, but the both of you were strong--you'd get through this, no doubt about it.

● V ●

-When you noticed your transformation, it was already too late. You suffered from violent muscle spasms, headaches, and pain in your joints as a result of the dramatic changes your body was undergoing.

-You never reached out to anyone, especially V, because you had no idea what was happening to you.

-You were afraid, and feared dragging anyone else, including your beloved, into your problems.

-Sadly, your body had other plans. It decided to force you to undergo a seizure in the middle of your kitchen, during which you temporarily sprouted an extra limb. All the flailing and trashing you were doing caused you to bash several of your body parts against the counteracts, hard.

-By the time the seizure was over, you were throughly and entirely bruised.

-Casting aside your pride, you dragged yourself to Devil May Cry to reluctantly ask someone to bandage your aching limbs.

-It was there where you ran into V, who noticed your bruises and exhausted appearance, which made him worry. He pulled you aside, pressed ice packs to your aching bones, and gently requested you tell him what was wrong.

-It took a lot of convincing, but V managed to get you to confess your issues. You explained how something was making your body change, and with teary eyes, described the pain you went through because of it.

-V had no idea why this was happening to you, but he was sure you two would figure things out together. The first step was to deduce what was afflicting you, then, to find the cure.

[call-of-ishmael]

Ishmael as having Pure O (OCD)

Inspired by a post i saw of someone saying their own experiences with OCD didn't line up with Ishmael (which i liked a lot, i always love seeing discussions on this) i wanted to give my own take based on my own experiences with OCD. Its my take Ishmael suffers from a bit of a lesser known variety, Pure Obsessional OCD. Now Pure O is a bit of a misnomer, because you DO have compulsions, they are mostly mental though, and there can be accompanying behaviors that are more outward, however it can be hard to miss, and in my experience has even made my family doubt the diagnosis at times cause its tricky. Now for Ishmael, she seemingly has no outward compulsions, but she has one thing, avoidant behaviors, like hiding away in her cabin during the first part of Canto V, which again leads to a bit of another connection, her whetting her harpoon for entirely too long, a small but noticeable behavior accompanying her avoidant behaviors. Avoidant behaviors tend to be the more outward of symptoms at times, cause mental compulsions are hard to spot. Post also mentioned that anxieties didn't seem to be that prevalent before 4.5-5 and id disagree. Dante noticed some anxious behaviors early on (They for example say she will start talking really quickly and in excess when nervous). She has always come off as always being on edge to me at least. Anxiety has always been a part of her behaviors but as we have seen shes been masking it a lot. Finally a bit more on a personal note, they mention in the post too that OCD tends to be many things, but there can be a tendency to single mindedness, you just wanna quiet down whats wrong and you need to take whatever path it is to make it stop hurting, and considering shes facing one of her biggest traumas, this being what shes been stuck on for the better part of the whole Canto makes perfect sense. Other stuff is her catastrophizing, endless ruminating on what could go wrong (she starts thinking of scenarios of what might just completely make it a disaster, what if Dante cant bring anyone back, what happens if they go overboard?) this isn't new, shes been this way since Canto II where she wants a perfect plan and is really only satiated by Effie and Saudes plan being watertight, one thing mentioned in the post is ruminating anxiety, and her behaviors not just in this chapter but in small ways before clearly give me an impression of this ruminating behavior always considering what could go wrong and wanting something rational to follow. In conclusion, her behavior before, this canto and during the Canto give me the impression she has Pure O which she has been trying her hardest to mask until she just couldn't anymore, and its now we are finally seeing some of those hints of mental compulsions turn into more outward behavior. If youd like to read a bit more on Pure OCD heres an article that while a bit general gives a good idea https://ocdla.com/obsessionalocd

[actuallysaiyan]

hiiii,

May I request the valentines day request with vergil sparda x f!reader (dmc5 version) with this prompt [Reader/Character writes their loved one a Secret Admirer’s note and tries to deliver it discreetly. They are caught by their loved one!]

Where reader writes vergil a love poem or a confession and tries to tuck it like under his room door but he happens to be heading towards it and catches her off guard? They are not in a relationship but reader has feelings for vergil and considered the idea of confessing through the letter because she is shy :^ anyways so they encounter and reader quickly retreats shyly to her room where vergil then comes up to her to confess after reading the letter? Could be SFW or NSFW after the last part.

Totally love your writing, feel free to ignore it a shorten it if it's too much.

Love ya, xo.

(Also if u don't mind I want to be anonymous because I'm shy and anxious sorry for that :">)

warnings: smut, love confessions, mentions of crying, Nero's mother is slightly mentioned, cunnilingus/oral sex(fem receiving) word count: 1.1k pairings: Vergil x Fem!Reader summary: you write a sweet love letter to Vergil and are so nervous about him finding it. when he does find it, he's so touched...he shows you his true feelings through actions.

You keep rereading those words on the page. Your hands are shaking. Though you know that you won’t be getting a response right away, even just the thought of sliding this love poem/confession under Vergil’s door was making you so nervous. You had thought about doing it this way for weeks. The eldest Sparda twin had very much caught your attention, and the only way to confess to him perfectly would be to write him a love poem. Sure, you were no William Blake, but you knew he’d appreciate the sentiment regardless. That was…if he felt the same way. If he didn’t feel that way about you, you’d have to quit your job as Dante’s secretary and run very far away from Devil May Cry.

With a deep breath, you get up from your bed. Vergil had been on a mission all morning and well into the afternoon. Coincidentally, that was the time it took you to really get the nerve to even begin writing this letter. It was beginning to eat at you too, especially as you continue to reread it and desperately want to make corrections. But you know it also comes from the heart and that means everything.

So you tiptoe across the floor and open your room door. You peer outside into the hallway, looking for signs of anyone. When you don’t see any flashes of white hair nor do you spot Lady, that’s when you make your move. You grasp the letter and you walk a little further down the hallway, finding Vergil’s room door.

It’s silent save for the beating of your heart and the rushing of blood in your ears. It’s so frightening because you have this sinking suspicion that he’s going to find your letter and he’s going to toss it away. He’ll probably laugh at your sad attempt to write the literary man some kind of pathetic poetry. He won’t even look at you anymore after this, prompting him to ask Dante to kick you out.

You almost lose your nerve again when you crouch down to slide the letter under the door. Just as you’re getting back up, you notice someone is in the hallway with you. As you turn around, you come face-to-face with the man in question. Vergil cocks an eyebrow when his gaze meets yours. Your heart nearly stops as you try to come up with the right thing to say.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

You shake your head, “N-no…”

You scurry away; you feel like you could faint. This was all so intense and you couldn’t believe you actually slid the letter under the door. He was seconds away from reading your confession. Seconds away from reading the contents of your heart. You couldn’t even think straight as you managed to hide yourself in your room.

For a few moments, you dive right under the covers and hide from the world. You try to convince yourself that your blankets will shield you from the rejection that is sure to come from this. And it keeps you safe and hides your tears as you feel them sliding down your cheeks. You were almost certain that Vergil wouldn’t even be the slightest bit interested in you.

Oh but you were so wrong about that. Through time and perseverance, you managed to capture the heart of the eldest Sparda twin. Even the first time he met you, he thought you were the sweetest thing in this world. A ray of sunshine in the darkness that loomed in his heart. He had his eyes on you from the very beginning, something that made his brother tease him to no end. Yet, Dante had swore not to meddle in the love affairs of his twin.

Vergil found your letter immediately as he stepped into his bedroom. He opens it up and reads it, leaning against his now closed door. Tears well up in his eyes as he reads the beautiful poem. You had reached into his chest and stolen his heart. It was almost too much. He wasn't even sure if plain old words could even be considered good enough to tell you how he felt.

After a little while, he decided to just go talk to you. He was beginning to think maybe just being able to be open with one another could help. Vergil knocks on your door, and you’re startled. Was he coming to reject you? You take a deep breath once more and open the door for him. His eyes widen when he takes in the sight of you.

“I…I…” he starts, but can’t even continue.

You gasp as he pushes you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. His large hands cup your face and he pulls you in for the most passionate kiss you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s soft and sweet, but there’s a lingering hunger in it. 

“My love,” he says between heated kisses. “Your words have ignited a fire in my heart.”

You gasp when you feel his large hand enveloping yours and placing it over his heart. You feel the way it races just for you. Then you two meet in another sweet kiss, but the hunger lingers in this one as well. He guides you towards the bed, and within too much fuss, he begins to undress you. It’s slow and passionate, and you don’t feel pressured at all.

He tenderly spreads your legs, watching you through hooded eyes. You’re so beautiful like this. The soft lighting of your room makes you look almost like a painting. He then leans in to kiss your lips once more, making you feel lightheaded and breathless. Your eyes meet his gaze and he smirks as he begins removing his gloves. Then you let out a soft moan as his bare hands massage your thighs.

“May I taste you, beloved?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you manage to squeak out a “yes”. Vergil smirks at you, but it’s a genuine smirk. Then he spreads your legs, lowering himself onto his stomach between them. The smell of you makes him a little dizzy as he leans in to taste you. The moment his tongue touches your folds, he knows he’s done for.

He’s not ready to let you go.

Long languid laps of his tongue from your hole to your clit have you squirming beneath him. His name falls from your lips in soft pants and desperate little mewls. Vergil has never felt more hard in his entire life. This was all new, and yet there was a familiarity to it all. He wonders how he could have ever pulled himself from Nero’s mother if this is what it was to pleasure her.

He manages to push those thoughts away and focus solely on you. Just the sight of you being pleasured was enough to make him grunt against your wet skin. Your whole body feels warm, your eyes are rolled back in your head and your chest heaves as you pant to catch your breath.

“You are mine, my darling. All mine.”

[fella-lovin-fella]

im trying to take better care of myself and eat earlier in the day but literally wtf do i eat

[a-passing-storm]

Y’know what. I was wrong. Terminator 3 is actually really good (at least compared to one and two). I teared up at the ending! This is good!