#and have a very gothic wedding

[bakuliwrites]

WIP Wednesday. A very self-indulgent Astarion x My Tav wedding portrait because it’s just so soft 💕🌸 Please just let this man have gentle, happy things.

#wip wednesday #current wip #astarion x tav #messy wip #my drawings #my artwork #dani draws #self indulgence at its finest #I just want to love this man #and snuggle him and hold him close #deeply in love #they get married in a cemetery #and have a very gothic wedding

[moonwoodhollow]

HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76

a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat

A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.

It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!

More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!

First a little history/backstory to this build:

This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.

The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.

So what do you get with this build?

Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.

You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.

The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!

CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.

Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.

@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif

@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3

Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis

Download:��Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 build dl #showusyourbuilds #show us your builds #sims 4 lot download #sims 4 lot dl #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #*mine #*mydownload #sims community #sims 4 screenshots

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: the evil fungi did it

We all know of The Last of Us, but that franchise isn't the only example of fungal invasions. We've got zombies and apocalypses, we've got gothic horror, we've got fantasy, we've got romance, we've got space - no genre is safe from having their characters become the home of fungal organisms.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

The Girl with all the Gifts (The Girl with All the Gifts series) by M.R. Carey

Want another fungal zombie apocalypse? Then I come bearing great news! The Girl with All the Gifts is a post apocalyptic novel following a group of characters fleeing across an infested wasteland, trying to stay alive and hoping to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Cold Storage by David Koepp*

Years ago, a quickly growing fungal organism capable of wiping out humanity came dangerously close to spreading. It was contained and kept in cold storage underneath a military repository. Since then, a larger storage facility has been built on top, the dangers on the lower floor being largely forgotten. That is, until it makes a new attempt at escape. Now, two unsuspecting security guards might be all that stands in the way of complete extermination. This book is both funny and genuine in its characters, and genuinely creepy in its portrayal of body horror.

Salvaged by Madeline Roux

Rosalyn Devar is on the run from her famous family, and has run so far she ended up in space. Now she works as a "space janitor", being sent off to clean up the remains of failed research expeditions. But in trying to cope with her problems, she has fucked up on her job multiple times, and is now close to losing her position. Her last chance is the Brigantine: a research vessel gone silent, all crew presumed dead. But when she arrives to salvage it, Rosalyn discovers the crew isn't as dead as presumed. But are they still human - and will Rosalyn be able to keep her own humanity?

The Annual Migration of Clouds by Premee Mohamed

Novella. Reid is a young woman living in a small community after a climate collapse. Resources are scarce, but Reid's biggest problem is Cad, a mind-altering fungal parasite that lives inside her body. When she is offered a rare chance at attending a far-away university in a secluded dome community, Reid must decide whether to leave or stay to help support her community.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia*

Noemí Taboada is a glamorous and well-off young woman, but when she receives a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin, Noemí must leave her glamorous life and travel to find out what is wrong. As she arrives at High Place, a mansion on the Mexican countryside, Noemí is met with mysteries and her cousin's new English family. As she tries to find out the truth behind High Place and its inhabitants, Noemí's only ally is the youngest son of the family. But will she be able to find out what so scared her cousin before it's too late for all of them?

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hiding from both a world wanting to oppress her and the cult seeking to force her back, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bleak and scary, Sorrowland is a book that will creep under your skin with horrors both fantastical and very, very real.

What Moves the Dead (Sworn Soldier duology) by T. Kingfisher

Novella. Alex Easton, retired soldier, travels to visit their childhood friends, siblings Madeline and Roderick Usher, after finding out that Madeline is dying. In the siblings' rural, ancestral home, Madeline walks in her sleep and looks to be fading away, while around it wildlife seems to be possessed by a strange force. With the help of a mycologist and an American doctor, Alex attempts to save Madeline and reveal the truth of her illness.

Wanderers (Wanderers duology) by Chuck Wendig

A strange illness has struck the United States: with no warning, random people with seemingly no connection simply get up and start walking. They do not eat, do not sleep, do not communicate, and they do not stop - and if you try to force them, they literally explode from the inside. Teenaged Shana isn't one of these sleepwalkers, but her little sister is. Unwilling to leave her sister on her own, Shana accompanies the growing flock of walkers, protecting them as one of many "shepherds". And this protection proves necessary, as the sleepwalkers is only the first step toward what might very well be the extinction of the human race. An 800 page epic, Wanderers is a slowburn apocalypse story with a multitude pov characters and plot threads, from fungal pandemics and all-knowing AI to the all too real portrayal of radicalization and bigotry.

The Dawnhounds (The Endsong series) by Sascha Stronach

The Dawnhounds is a book where you just kind of have to let the story and the world wash over you. It skirts the line of scifi and fantasy, with a futuristic world of environmentally friendly mushroom houses and deadly fungi bio weapons next to literally god-given superpowers and near-immortality. It’s really cool and unlike anything else I’ve ever read, but also a bit confusing. Bonus: it’s also sapphic!

Agents of Dreamland (Tinfoil Dossier trilogy) by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Novella. A government agent known only as the Signalman; a cult preying on the young and vulnerable, promising to usher in a new age; a woman who exists outside of time, searching for a way to save humanity. Agents of Dreamland is short, but includes many spooky elements, among them an alien and possibly world-ending fungi. The narrative is non-linear and a bit strange, but also fascinating.

The Genius Plague by David Walton

Soon after landing his dream job at the NSA, things get weird for Neil Johns. His brother Paul, a mycologist, returns from a trip to the Amazon, carrying a nearly lethal fungal infection and a strangely sharpened mind. At work, Neil starts picking up mysterious messages originating out of South America, where cases similar to that of Paul starts occurring. And strangest of all: all the infected seem to be working towards the same goal. Recommended with the caveat that, while the fungal stuff is really cool, The Genius Plague is also happy to idolize American intelligent agencies and demonize environmentalism and anti-imperialism.

Little Mushroom: Judgement Day (Little Mushroom duology) by Shisi

An Zhe isn’t human. He’s a mushroom who absorbed the DNA of a dying man, allowing him to take on human guise and leave the wilderness. Entering one of the last human bases, a place struggling to keep out the mutated and dangerous creatures of the wilds, An Zhe must keep his identity secret as he searches for something which was taken from him. While not my cup of tea (frankly, I need more female characters), Little Mushroom is an undeniably unique m/m romance novel.

Bonus AKA these don't technically involve any fungi but have similar vibes of parasites and nature corrupting the human

Parasite (Parasitology trilogy) by Mira Grant*

In the near future, a great leap in medical science has improved human health by leaps and bounds: a genetically engineered tape worm. Within a few years, almost every human has their own personal parasite implanted. But now, something is happening to the parasites - they want more, whether their hosts want to share or not.

Annihilation (Southern Reach trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

For decades, Area X has been completely cut off from humanity. The only ones to enter are small organized expeditions, many of which never return, or return... wrong. We follow the latest expedition, its participants known only as the anthropologist, the psychologist, the surveyor, and our narrator, the biologist. As they enter into Area X to try to find out its secrets, only one thing is for sure: they will never be the same again.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Young adult. Over a year ago, the Raxter School for Girls was hit by the Tox, a strange disease that killed off many and left the survivors' bodies slowly changing in terrifying ways. The island the school is on has been in quarantine since then, and the girls dare not leave the school grounds lest they become victims of wild animals changed by the Tox. But as they wait for the promised cure, one of the girls goes missing, and her friends are willing to do anything to find her. Unsettling, spooky, and sapphic, this is a unique read featuring body horror and messy, dangerous girls.

(Second) Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

City of Saints and Madmen (Ambergris trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

Ambergris, a city created by a mushroom-like people, is now the home of humans, but the original inhabitants are still there, residing beneath the city.

Creatures of Want and Ruin (Diabolist's Library series) by Molly Tanzer

It’s the prohibition era, and while Ellie does fishing during the day, at night she bootlegs moonshine in Long Island. But unbeknownst to Ellie, some of the booze she smuggles has a strange source: distilled from mushrooms by a cult, it causes those who drink it to see terrible things, such as the the destruction of Long Island.

Bloom by Wil McCarthy

The inner solar system has been overtaken by fast-reproducing, fast-mutating technogenic life. Humanity has fled to the outer solar system, hiding beneath the ice of Jupiter's moon, but even here they aren't safe from possible incursion of mycospores, which lead to deadly blooms. Now a group of astronauts venture back to an infected Earth.

#the girl with all the gifts #cold storage #salvaged #the annual migration of clouds #mexican gothic #sorrowland #what moves the dead #wanderers #the dawnhounds #agents of dreamland #the genius plague #little mushroom #parasitology #annihilation #wilder girls #nella talks books

[astaroth1357]

Devildom "Marriage/Proposal"

Again. Probably not too Christian-coded in Hell.

Contents: Satanic themes, possessive behavior mentioned

~♡♡♡~

First off, there's a big difference between a demon bonding with another demon vs. binding to a human. There's a lot more equal ground in the former, but the power dynamics are inherently different in the latter.

Traditionally, a demon "marrying" a human is usually used as the highest form of reward to an incredibly loyal follower. It's basically a way for a demon to point them out and make it clear, "This one is my favorite!"

Demons binding themselves to humans out a genuine connection is not unheard of, of course, but it's frightfully rare. Only handful may every do this at a time and not even Solomon has managed to pull it off despite the number of pacts under his belt.

It's this rare because to reform the new pact, the demon has to give up their grimoire (the books that more or less act as substitute for a demon's heart and soul) to their partner. It's like handing away the essence of their very being to another.

When demons bind with each other, the grimoire exchange is mutual. However, since humans don't have grimoire, binding to a human is seen as an act of extreme sacrifice and humility on the demon's part. It's truly the only kind of pact they have where the risks lie mostly with them.

Possessing a demon's grimoire is like literally owning the blueprint to their bodies. All of their powers, history, thoughts, and fears are detailed out within them. Every single weakness or spell to control them hides inside as well...

Because of this, demons take this decision very, VERY seriously. If your relationship falls apart, you don't want something that important left in the hands of your ex. A vast majority of demons never even show their grimoires, much less give them away.

A demon will only ever have one grimoire to share, so they can only ever be bound to one individual at a time. A human can technically be bound to multiple demons and having a binding pact does not erase lesser pacts, but again, it would be rare.

When an individual is in possession of a demon's grimoire, they will always be able to materialize it with just a slight flick of the wrist. Having it on their person will also be enough for them to summon the owner at will, barely a whisper necessary.

A demon will already show up stronger than usual if they're summoned by their grimoire, but using any added enchantments inside will only increase their power tenfold. A good caster can turn their partner into supercharged war machine with minimal effort.

There's a certain oneness between the pair that comes from binding that goes far beyond your average pact. The demon and their partner get the heightened ability to "read" each other. It's not full on telepathy, but they gain a preternatural sense for just how the other is feeling. An entire conversation can be held in the span of seconds with merely few glances and a shrug between them.

Demons are also EXTREMELY protective of their bound partners, which kind of makes sense considering what they're carrying around. They're not very good at hiding it either. We're talking full fangs out and deep, guttural growls at even the most minor of threats.

The offer of the grimoire is technically seen as the "proposal" and acceptance commences the "marriage." It's a big deal with when high-ranking demons decide to do this, so it's often celebrated by a public wedding ceremony.

The Grimores

Lucifer's grimoire has a real gothic flare to it. The whole thing is jet black leather with blood red rubies fixed to the spine and fine layer of gold leaf pressed into the corners. No matter where it's being kept, cover will always feel a bit cold to the touch... The pages are thick and textured, with every word inside written inside done in a careful, nearly mechanical hand. Perfectly legible. Technically flawless. Though certain pages are written with some hesitation, particularly the ones that go over his past...

Mammon's grimoire is, arguably, the most beautiful of the bunch. It's snow white with brilliant gold accents on the spine and along the edges. His personal sigil, painted in shimmering light, takes up most of the front cover and mesmerizes any eye that catches its shine. It's a little on the slim side, though, due in part to how thin pages are inside. Reading it can be a bit messy because the caster can always see whatever words have been scrawled out on the back of the page...

Leviathan's grimoire looks like something straight out of a sunken treasure chest. The brownish-violet leather used to bind it feels real, and it is, though it couldn't have come from any mortal creature on land. The edges are worn down and cracking from neglect, giving the whole thing a certain fragility over the rest... The pages are yellowed and hard from water damaged, yet the words inside still survive... even if parts of them are a tad smudged.

Satan's grimoire could probably pass for 18th century notebook. It too is leather bound, but it doesn’t have the same flare as his older brothers'. If anything, it has a very DIY feel to it, where the cover has a little glue in places it shouldn't and the rough-feeling pages don't all fit quite right. It feels more like a field journal than a demonic tome, perhaps adding to the distinct aura of rebellion radiating off of it... The script inside seems to change from page to page with some part written neatly and other parts apparently scrawled out in a rage. Legibility may vary.

Asmodeus' grimoire looks more like a decorative art piece than a book at times... The wine red cover is smooth and shiny with polished gems affixed like a spider's web on the front. Asmo's grimore is unique in that it is the only one that comes with a lock on it, one that can only be lifted by a spell only he knows. The penmanship inside is naturally beautiful, though sometimes the added flare of loops and flourishes gets in the way keeping everything readable.

Beelzebub's grimoire is deceptively simple looking compared to the others. It looks like your standard leather-bound book and aside from its surprising thickness, not much stands out about it. Even the engraving of his sigil on the cover doesn't have any extra color or shadow to it. But when it's open, the most gorgeous words lie inside as if penned by a master calligrapher. Every bit of space is used appropriately and each letter is clean, clear, and fluidly handled. It's not only legible, it's breathtaking and obviously done with a lot of time and care.

Belphegor's grimoire looks like a void in the space around it. It goes beyond the jet black of Lucifer's cover to an almost true black from cover to pages. You wouldn't even know that it's made of leather unless you felt it because it reflects no light and it betrays no design. Running a hand across it, though, does reveal the ridges of Belphie's sigil craved into the front and back cover. The black pages all have words are written in a bright, silvery, and iridescent ink. Parts of the pages also look seem to contain spilled stardust ready to fly off into the air. The penmanship is a little simple, compared to the rest, but nothing that can't be skimmed at a glance if need be.

Diavolo's grimoire could kill a man from its weight alone. The book is far too big for any shelf and thick with heavily textured, papyrus-like paper. No matter who has it, it will always feel as if a supernatural force is trying to pull it from their hands... Seeing much past its burgundy, black, and gold cover is more or less impossible but what's there truly befits royalty. Every aspect of the design is flawless, with polished onyx as black as night embedded in the spine and ancient symbols peppered between golden spindle-like filigree. One can only imagine what exactly is so forbidden on the inside though...

Barbatos' (true) grimoire is an honest to god mystery... No one has ever seen it and Solomon theorizes that he keeps it in a particularly empty timeline. If asked what it looks like, Barbatos will share that it's simply "a green book," but not elaborate much farther before changing the subject... One has to assume, though, it's probably as thick as a tree trunk with all the history within those pages and for the cover...? He's had all of the time in the world to make it something truly special.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me worldbuilding #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

The Addams curse is just the far majority of the family being demi-sexual and insane.

It’s why that although they are a family of powerful witches no one has managed to break the curse. Because no curse was actually cast.

But the legend and subsequent ‘proof’ of its existence has lived on so they all believe it’s true. Most of these ace-spec bitches genuinely believing they’re immune until they fall in love and then they’re like “aha! the curse has struck again!”

Morticia figured this out not long after meeting Gomez’s extended family, but shit stirrer that her younger self was decided to keep that information to herself and played along for her own amusement.

Which has paid off ten fold as she now gets to watch her fiercely independent walking advertisement for the Addams curse of a daughter drive herself mad trying to break the curse after noticing that she’d developed *gasp* feelings for an overtly sensitive, brightly coloured werewolf girl with the personality of a rainbow.

“I’m not in love with Enid. The very idea is ridiculous. I just like looking at her and smelling her and holding her hand and sometimes I fantasise about dying in her warm embrace… But those are just symptoms of the curse, there is no other explanation. I should have taken the warnings more seriously.” - W.A.

Which then leads to six months worth of frequent conversation similar to the following that Morticia will never let go of,

Wednesday: Mother it pains me to say this but I need your help. The curse has me in it grasp and it’s killing me. I cannot focus on breaking the hold it has on me and our family because all I can think about is her… and the way my name sounds upon her sweet lips as if she’s calling me to my own doom.

Morticia, flipping through gothic wedding magazines and trying to think of ways to include pink without making half their family nauseous: Why don’t you take Enid out on a friendly excursion darling. Perhaps if you’re around her for an extended period of time the yearning will wain and you’ll be able to focus on your task more efficiently.

Wednesday: Good idea. I’ll take her for a walk through the cemetery.

Morticia: There are roses in the conservatory I’ve yet to chop the heads off you can bring to her. And don’t forget to tell her she looks pretty or your father will be very disappointed in you.

Wednesday: Obviously. I’m not an animal.

Morticia: And if you feel the need to kiss her I wouldn’t fight it. Who knows what will happen if you do.

Wednesday: Nothing good, I presume. It must be done. Thank you, mother. You’re advice has been satisfactory.

Morticia: Of course, darling. Have an miserable date with your beloved.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #morticia addams #the addams family #wenclair #enid x wednesday #the addams curse #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #ptbv

[qdbs-writes]

Do you write fem readers?!? 😭 If so can you write some head cannons about the Cullens with a goth s/o

i proudly write for all readers, nonny! and I'm gonna assume this about about trad!goth, but I'll try and make sure this applies to most goth subcultures!

Cullen Clan x Goth!Fem!S/O

Carlisle Cullen

He's confused but supportive. Back in his day, the term 'goth' only applied to the people who sacked Rome, which he'll remind you of regularly, especially if you're visiting the Volturi (who will also assume that you are directly connected to the ancient Goths, and would fear you as a result).

He'd be interested in your genealogy, because he thinks you're connection to the goth style can't be mere coincidence or personal choice, and it wouldn't be difficult to find out either, all he'd have to do is check if you have any Germanic ancestry from the last 2000 years.

Esme Cullen

If you're happy and comfortable, she's happy and comfortable. While it probably isn't her style personally, she's quick to see the benefits. For instance, black is a very easy colour to maintain, particularly with regards to cleaning.

Her only concern is getting you clothes other than black so that you can have something to wear to events that may require specific colours, like if you two are guests at a wedding (she wouldn't want you wearing black as it's bad luck for the couple).

Edward Cullen

Edward himself is basically a diet-corporate goth, so dating you will probably help him develop his own sense of comfort in the style.

The two of you are regularly seen brooding in the Forks CVS, loitering around the hair dye section, silently terrifying all of the elderly people waiting at the pharmacy.

Edward is likely already very familiar with goth music, has absolutely been to some Bauhaus concerts in his time, and probably has a respectable collection of gothic rock records in his room.

Rosalie Hale

It'll be like a Barbie/Oppenheimer-esque clash in aesthetics. I personally see Rosalie with a very Y2K aesthetic, so the two of you walking down the street together might turn some heads.

That doesn't mean that she isn't fully supportive of your style though, and appreciates the philosophy of the aesthetic, how it's a style built on defying expectations of conformity and obedience. In her short life, all Rosalie knew was to dress properly, smile, be open, happy, a willing host, an amusing guest. In death, she's proud to be herself, and even prouder to be with someone so comfortable with dressing exactly how they want, regardless of what others might think.

Emmett Cullen

You dress scary and Emmett loves it. He has regularly compared you to a venomous snake, your black clothes and aggressive makeup mean that almost everyone in Forks steers clear of you. But not Emmett, he's never had the survival instincts to stay away from things that could kill him, in fact, your "unapproachable" style only drew him in more.

Absolutely loves wandering around Forks with you, even if you aren't particularly doing anything. He thinks it's hilarious that some people cross the street to avoid you, it's like having 'scary dog' privileges.

Alice Cullen

She'd seen you in her visions for some time, but she almost didn't recognise you when you started dressing strangely and wearing heavy makeup. At first, it disturbed her, you looked like the sleep-paralysis demons that used to haunt her in the asylum.

Once she gets the chance to meet you in real life, that fear quickly subsides. Through your relationship, Alice learns how much of a safe space goth society can be, and that she can rely on other goths to not be judgemental towards her like so many others are.

Jasper Hale

Greatly appreciates the Victorian-era elements that are incorporated into your clothes, it helps him feel less old. You'll make his day if you show any interest in his clothes and jewellery that he had in life, particularly the more morbid pieces (such as the ring made out of his mother's hair).

If you're looking particularly historical, he'll love to get in his original clothes from when he was alive (except the ""uniform"" that shan't be mentioned), and stroll about Forks with you, arm in arm, like a true Southern gentleman.

#twilight saga #twilight saga headcanons #twilight sage imagine #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #rosalie hale #rosalie hale x reader #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #cullen clan #cullen clan x reader #qdbs writes #esme cullen #esme cullen x reader

[tomoeskiss]

the main problem people have with this reboot is that making it is just plain disrespectful. brandon lee literally put his heart and soul into this role and ended up dying for it. for all his life he had been in his father’s shadow and this movie was supposed to be his breakout role and help him step into the light, but it ended up being his final act due to negligence.

the whole setting of the movie based on the trailer just doesn’t look right. the original had this unique 90’s gothic setting and i get that it’s a remake and they’re trying to go for something modern but that just takes away from the crow’s entire charm. even the soundtrack sounds horrible and don’t even mention the character designs… there’s no soul in the movie.

then there’s also the fact that in the original, eric and shelly are completely innocent, they fought for what was wrong and ended up being killed for it. in the reboot trailer it seems like they both were inmates and met in prison?? huh???? the whole point is that they’re completely normal people that get something terrible done to them. that’s why the crow brought eric back in the first place.

there’s also supposed to be a clear distinction between eric before he died and after. in the original it’s very obvious how much he has changed. he went from a normal guy to a man mad with grief. but in this reboot he just kinda… looks and acts the same? he goes from a wannabe soundcloud rapper to a wannabe soundcloud rapper with bad makeup on, there seems to be no personality change. there's plenty of examples like these where they've completely missed the mark. in the comics there’s multiple people that become a crow, not just eric draven. they could’ve used one of those characters to continue the story.

i know you can’t judge an entire movie based on a short trailer but just the circumstances surrounding the first movie is enough of a reason to not like it. even the author of the comic didn’t want to remake it cause he himself thought it was unnecessary and disrespectful but he ended up working with them anyway so they didn’t completely butcher it. many reboots have been made throughout the years of various films but there’s a reason people are SO pissed off with this specific one. because, unlike other reboots, this movie had it’s lead actor die on set while filming. the crow is like a memorial to brandon lee, they weren’t even planning on releasing it but his family and fiancé encouraged them. brandon died only a few weeks before his wedding, similar to how his character died only a day before his. the movie is literally dedicated to him and his fiancé and it states that at the end of the movie.

the original crow is a constant reminder of the tragedy and what could’ve been which is why it’s so bittersweet, which further adds to the setting and overall mood of the film. the creator, actors of the original movie and even brandon lee’s friends and family didn’t want the reboot to be made and if that’s not telling then i don’t know what is. i do feel for bill skarsgård and the rest of the cast, they must’ve worked so hard only to be criticized but this reboot should never have been made in the first place, because it’ll never live up to the original.

#the crow 1994 #the crow #brandon lee #eric draven #the crow 2024 #bill skarsgård

[15-lizards]

I’ve been doing some reading into past ladies of winter fell (marna locke my beloved) and we know that Catlyn brought the riverland romantic swag to the north when she married— what do you think the fashion looked like under different ladies?. Even northern brides would have brought accessories from their maiden house, along with their personal style, to the starks.

Hmm yeah

Brides from the really high north (like approaching Umber territory) have a habit of covering everything except their faces due to the cold, so they often bring a very stoic, hard, stern vibe as well as clothing that is very covering. But you know they still have their pride so bejeweled/embroidered gowns and headpieces are still there, but with more muted colors probably

Lower northern/white harbor brides are more in touch with a Faith of The Seven oriented culture, so they wear a million times more accessories (especially if they’re from white harbor) lots and lots of jewels and pearls imported from the south and Essos for their wedding presents, so they become the envy/mockery of winterfell.

Mormont women, as always, bring a very wild and untamable vibe to the party. They frequently wear their bow down in youthful braids and often refuse to pin it up. Bear fur cloaks and hats that they probably skinned themselves. Rough clothing that is more practical for hunting and riding than it is for feasts and balls.

Blackwoods classic goths to Me. Everyone else in winterfell is wearing greys and browns and the blackwood brides roll up in what could be mourning clothes as casual wear they all have an affinity for black for some reason. Just cool gothic “I read about arcane magic in my free time” vibes all around. Some sick ass bitches

#asoiaf #asoiaf hair and clothing

[penny00dreadful]

This is so fucking stupid and I'm not sorry. Inspired by this video of the two guitarists from DragonForce taking the piss out of Sabaton(affectionately).

Jeffington: Just ended your whole career on live 😘

Eddie scrunched his eyes closed then wrenched them open again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing on his screen. It was too early in the fucking morning for this shit. 

Whatever.

He buried his face back in between Steve’s shoulders and allowed himself to fall asleep once more.

Corroded Coffin had only started making it big in the early 90’s when they split right down the middle. As time went on they started to drift towards different subgenres. Jeff and Grant had wanted to explore a more international sound, while Gareth and Eddie were happy to stay in the power metal scene with just a touch of neoclassical. 

They had tried to make it work, but the sounds were just too different and while Eddie and Grant wanted to continue on with lyrics full of fantasy and gothic romance, Jeff and Grant had wanted to focus more on ‘the human condition’.

So they separated. Eddie and Gareth had kept the Corroded Coffin name while Jeff and Grant travelled, exploring their sound.

There was no animosity. They were all still the best of friends. Even as Jeff and Grant had settled in Stockholm, where they had quickly shot to stardom with their new band members, Eddie and Gareth made their home in California enjoying their own success. They met up as often as they could, whenever tour dates aligned or they were booked into the same festivals.

Eddie and Steve were godfathers to Grant’s youngest daughter.

He and Gareth had been groomsmen in Jeff’s wedding.

They were solid.

Which was why the text from Jeff was more exasperating than worrying. 

Plus it was like… nine in the morning which, granted, wasn't early, early but Eddie was a damn rockstar.

And he might have lost track of time reading last night and stayed up until four but that's besides the point. 

But then Steve was handing him his morning coffee with a kiss, saying Robin had sent him a link to something and fine. He’d go watch whatever stupid shit Jeff pulled.

Eddie settled back into bed because he could and it was a Sunday.

Sue him.

But he couldn’t decide if he should be fake-mad or wildly entertained because the link Robin had sent opened the VOD about an hour into the stream, just in time for Grant to say “Should we do Corroded Coffin?”

Both Jeff and Grant were sitting in Jeff’s studio space in front of Jeff’s computer with a range of instruments behind them, grinning at each other.

“Oh shit, definitely!” Jeff stood and seemed to think about it for a second before picking up one of his guitars, a bright acid green with black tendrils running throughout. “The most dramatic of the bunch,” he leaned into the mic, gesturing at the guitar before taking his seat again, “just like their frontman.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

“You think you can shred like Munson?” Grant asked, leaning forward and starting to tap out drum beats on the laptop.

Jeff scoffed. “Yeah right. Let me just play at five-fucking-thousand bpm and sing at the same time. It’s gonna be an approximation at best.”

Surprisingly enough the music they came up with did sound very close to Corroded Coffin’s sound. Grant relied heavily on the kick-drum and high hat to a ridiculous degree for Gareth's part and yeah, fair.

Gareth did love his high hat.

Jeff played the fastest guitar riff he could muster which honestly wasn’t that bad. He couldn’t go quite as hard as Eddie could but guitar was always Eddie’s first love and he was a master at his craft. Jeff gave the camera a cheeky wink as he used the computer to speed the guitar solo up, making it sound far more complex.

“I swear to god,” Eddie muttered to himself, “if they insinuate that I do that, I’ll fucking-”

“Eddie would never.” Jeff said, responding to someone in the chat who’d asked that very question.

Grant looked up with a sly smile. “Oh, god no. He’d never. He’s too proud for that.”

Cheeky bastards.

“You know what this needs?”

“Female backing vocals?”

“Yes!" Jeff snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Like something pulled from Jackson’s Lord of the Rings!”

“Oh come on!” Eddie pouted, but even still he could tell they weren’t actually making fun.

A notification popped up on Eddie’s phone.

Gare-Bear: Have you watched the stream?

Eddie: Watching right now. They’re starting on the lyrics.

Gare-Bear: Did Robin send you the link?

Eddie: Yeah.

Gare-Bear: Okay, keep watching.

Eddie: 👍

By the time the guys had hashed the lyrics out, punctuating them with high falsetto points that freaked Jeff’s cats out, Eddie was giggling into his coffee. The lyrics were so comically bad but they were so Corroded Coffin at the same time.

I wear armour and I am sad. I'm all alone and I am sad.  Such a lone wolf am I.  Except I'm not because here comes this hot man who's totally not my husband. Bats and demons and darkness and death. Bow down to me.  Kneel before me.  I am your master.  This is about sex. Oh, look, a dragon! I'll suck your blood then I'll fuck you through the wall. Except I won't because you're an allegory for my husband again. I'll fuck him instead. Every song involves him in some way. Because I'm a big fucking sap.

And then it happened. That crafty wench.

A message popped up in the chat.

BuckyBirdie: Needs more dick sucking lyrics.

“Holy shit.” Grant whipped out his phone. “R- Birdie? Is that you? Stay right there, hold on.”

While Jeff continued to play through the guitar, Grant disappeared, raising the phone to his ear before coming back a few minutes later and whispering something to Jeff.

Jeff’s whole face split into the most mischievous of smiles and Eddie only had time to think oh no before Robin’s face appeared, joining the stream with a tired if not slightly manic expression, all topped off by her yummy sushi pyjamas.

The first thing Grant said to her was “What fucking time is it over there, Birdie?” 

“I dunno.” She shrugged, looking down at her watch. “Like half six in the morning?”

“Oh. Could be worse then.”

“I haven’t slept yet.” She said with a bright smile.

“Dude! Why not?”

“I got into cryptography again last night and I haven’t stopped. Don’t tell Steve.”

Oh, I am so telling Steve. Eddie thought to himself.

“God. What a fuckin’ nerd.” Jeff punctuated his statement with a loud strum of his guitar.

Robin stuck her tongue out. “Takes one to know one.”

“Ouch. Right in my middle schooler heart.”

“Anyway, a little birdie told me you boys need some backing vocals?”

Eddie didn’t know how he was going to get her back for this, but he was sure he’d be able to figure something out eventually.

Like banging pots and pans in her hallway while she slept off her cryptography binge.

Though it was almost worth the hilarity because noted lesbian Robin Buckley happily sat there, singing about dick and tongues and assholes in a high ethereal voice that was then layered behind Jeff's.

By the end, the chat was going wild asking when it was going to be available to stream because even though it was a parody song, it was annoyingly catchy. Just before they signed off, Jeff and Grant let their audience know they’d ask Eddie and Gareth for permission before they’d do anything.

Eddie minimised the video and opened up his chat with Gareth.

Eddie: You wanna let them release it?

Gare-Bear: Fuck yeah!

Eddie: Awesome.

#i blacked out and then this appeared #i dont know what happened #just the boys being silly #and robin stirring the pot #your honor i love them #knowing each other so well you're able to accuratly make fun of them in the most devastating way #steddie #in the background #but still there #stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #corroded coffin boys #corroded coffin #fanfic #penny ficlet #modern au #rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie munson

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~ 

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety. 

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness. 

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were. 

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month. 

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of. 

Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day. 

Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.

True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.

You nearly laughed hysterically at that.

Car accident. Sure.

Against a truck branded Rogers. 

You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth. 

But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.   

Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death. 

You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work. 

It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to. 

Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.

When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect. 

Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms. 

You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones. 

If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?

You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day. 

Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls. 

Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral. 

A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them. 

You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was. 

Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss. 

You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule. 

“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.

She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face. 

Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting. 

The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart. 

“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake. 

“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job. 

Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening. 

“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath. 

Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered. 

Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts. 

That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt. 

You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.

He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second. 

“Princess?”

You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.

“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”

“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.

You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter. 

You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence. 

“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.” 

“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.

He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob. 

Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too. 

“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”

You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured. 

Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.

“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway. 

You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that. 

“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.” 

You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening). 

“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.

“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin. 

He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.

“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!” 

There was a pause after you snapped.

One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones. 

However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death. 

Though it may as well have been, considering his words.  

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”

Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness. 

You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life. 

You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind. 

No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity. 

A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies. 

A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.

Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”

“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity. 

It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty. 

She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.

“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option. 

But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you. 

You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit. 

“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly. 

“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone. 

“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.” 

It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first. 

Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here. 

As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it. 

If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.

The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries. 

By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle. 

It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times. 

As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar. 

“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.

His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat. 

You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.  

As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee. 

A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.

Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband. 

Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat. 

You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.

“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”

“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim. 

You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious. 

“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”

“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.

“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.

Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away. 

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.” 

He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.

Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet. 

If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it? 

As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea. 

Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.

At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one. 

Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?

Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you. 

Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it. 

She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.

You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.

Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man. 

With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything. 

As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan. 

“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.

“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”

“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”

“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”

Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.

Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge. 

Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information. 

“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off. 

Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”

“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head. 

His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat. 

Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything. 

“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.” 

It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already. 

If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death. 

What awaited an unruly fiancee?

You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.

It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you. 

To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour. 

That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless. 

Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands. 

Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy. 

The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you. 

There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside. 

There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open. 

“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run. 

There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.

Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus. 

The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist. 

Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed. 

“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.

There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy. 

Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.

Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered. 

“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly. 

Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.  

“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”

You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel. 

Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table. 

“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.

Simple, but completely confusing for you. 

Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind. 

“I don’t know anything about any stones,”  you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.

Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something? 

“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about. 

“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”

“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”

You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings. 

You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see. 

Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers. 

“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks. 

“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”

When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions. 

“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.

You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.

At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort. 

“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?” 

“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…” 

Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself. 

You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false. 

You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve. 

“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets. 

A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you. 

Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo. 

Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it. 

Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.  

He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick. 

Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open. 

It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty. 

After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head. 

You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot. 

Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body. 

Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.

Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself. 

You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch. 

You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment. 

Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again. 

The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism. 

Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here. 

The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance. 

He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc. 

A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.

How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne. 

That gun held so much power. 

It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm. 

“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself. 

“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief. 

“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon. 

“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.” 

You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin. 

Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.

He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises. 

You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen. 

No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.

It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.      

That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this. 

Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like. 

But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way. 

And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you… 

“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.” 

He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.

“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh. 

“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s. 

The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core. 

His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened. 

Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.

While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”

“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal. 

You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery. 

“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you. 

Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today. 

But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones. 

It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun. 

“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit. 

“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”

You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties. 

“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”

You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.

“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see. 

Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them. 

“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.

A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean. 

His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.

For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension. 

A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips. 

The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.

Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now. 

Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized. 

One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy. 

“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt. 

Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.

“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.” 

That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it. 

Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs. 

The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer. 

If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again. 

Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way. 

Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.

“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness. 

You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.

No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it. 

“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!” 

“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame. 

“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun. 

“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary. 

“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply. 

Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.

“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”   

There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin. 

It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation. 

“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit. 

Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse. 

Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.

Suddenly, you were picked up. 

Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.  

“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break. 

“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”

“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs. 

With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all. 

You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you. 

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside. 

Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”

#touch the darkness #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #dakr mafia!steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #my writing

[tarotwithavi]

What is coming for you soon?

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

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Pile 1

Expect a new job offer if you're unsatisfied with your current job.

If you have been feeling down lately expect to have a blasting time by yourself.

I'm seeing a new relationship. For some it is going to be a soulmate relationship .

If you like gothic things , I'm seeing that you're going to buy the things you have been searching for.

Someone you have been thinking about is going to come to you. This person may have disappointed you in the past.

I'm seeing the completion of a difficult cycle. Your health is going to improve in the next 30 days.

I'm also seeing an ending here but don't worry this is going to be for the best of you.

You may get invited to a wedding and let me tell you, you're going to have a grand time there.

People who have done you dirty are going to get their karma and they may come to you with an apology. It's up to you if you want to forgive them or not.

You're going to receive an unexpected present from someone. This present may be something you have always wanted.

Please help

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Pile 2

Do you know you have been watched pile 2? A lot of people have their eyes one you.

You're going to shine in your work setting and people will start to recognize for who you ate.

If you have participated in a competition or something expect positive response. Either you'll top or people will recognize you even if you don't win.

A lot of people will come to you , they would want to be your friend but be careful not all of them will have good motives.

All your hard work is going to pay off in the next month and all your manifestations are going to come true.

You may feel burdened by all the responsibilities on your shoulder but don't worry everything is going to work out.

A new person is entering your life and they will bring you stability.

If your family has been going through financial issues, I'm seeing that your father's job/business is going to pay him more.

You may change places/home/schools and this change is going to be very sudden.

Exactly 10 days from when you read his pac, some good news will come to you.

Please help

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Pile 3

You may get to meet your old friends. They are going to reach out to you soon.

I'm also seeing an end of a relationship/friendship that was toxic for you.

You're a magnet to good things right now my pile 3. Ask and you shall receive.

I'm also seeing an exciting event for you . Some of you may get invited to a certain event and you'll cherish the memories of this event forever.

I'm seeing that some of you may have been working on a project for a couple of months now, I'm am getting that you will achieve great success in it.

Someone may try to send you the evil eyes or is sending you right now. You are being told to protect yourself and your people.

One of your friends/someone in your circle is talking about you behind your back. This person is distrustful.

I'm getting that some of you may need to change your furniture or you might renovate your house/room.

Try to eat more vegetables and fruits because if don't get proper nutrition you may get sick in the upcoming days.

You may travel somewhere in the summer. This vacation will bring you balance and relax your mind.

Please help

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Pile 4

If you have applied for a scholarship, you're going to receive the email soon and results will be in your favor.

You're being told to trust your intuition or gut feeling in regards to new people entering your life.

You will be guided by your guardian angels, no need to be so stressed out.

Someone might criticize your work, don't be mad at them try to understand why they are criticising you.

I'm seeing a huge physical glow up for you. People are going to be stunned by your beauty.

You might get a vision about the future. Don't ignore this message, it can help you in challenging times.

The efforts you're putting in your work is not enough for it to achieve the success you want it to. Increase your efforts a little.

Some people might try to bring you down because of their own insecurity, don't lower your standards because of them.

Don't sign any documents without reading through it first. Even if itst from someone you trust wholeheartedly.

If someone has betrayed you once, they'll betray you again when they get the chance to. DON'T EVER TRUST THEM AGAIN.

Wear more green to attract abundance. And take care of your feet.

Please help

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

#pick a crystal #pick a gif #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #pac tarot #tarot cards #tarot #oracle reading #predictions #tarot deck #tarot readings #free readings #free tarot

[original-art-stories]

Merlin Fanfic list>>>

For Want of a Nail by OhThereBigBadWolf. I feel like this is a BAMF! Merlin, though it isn't tagged as such. Either way, it's still a good fic. "Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of old friends. That's all it takes to untangle the skeins of destiny and weave a new tapestry."

I suppose that I look different (Without the robes and crown) by WingedWolf21. "When Arthur blows the horn of Cathbdhah for the second time, the horn doesn’t just send Uther to the other world. It sends Arthur away as well – to a world where Ygraine never died, the Great Purge never happened, and magic lives freely at court. As do those who practice it."

Stars Above, Stones Below By Destina. "After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he's ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation. As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew could change in a single year."

Give the Dragon a Chilli by Supercalvin. Modern with Magic. "Aithusa might have been no bigger than a house cat but she was still a dragon. That meant wings, claws, and her hoard, which in Aithusa’s case included soft pillows, fluffy socks, and much to Merlin’s chagrin, stolen pants. When Merlin found out that his winged ward had stolen a rather considerable pile of clothing for her hoard, he thought that it would be the end of any kind of friendship with his neighbor. But when Merlin met the victim of Aithusa’s burglary, he was pleasantly surprised to find Arthur, a man who had never in his life seen a dragon let alone a burglarizing one, and Cavall, a curious German Shepherd puppy who was quick to befriend the little white dragon. From there, it was only the beginning."

The Student Prince by FayJay. Very famous this one, you probably know it already. Modern with Magic, BAMF!Merlin and Reincarnation. "A Modern-day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love..."

Dew Point by kinase. Modern with magic, BAMF! Merlin "Arthur Pendragon is as popular and successful as a sixth former can be. He hasn’t quite figured out his future yet, but it’s going to be brilliant, he’s certain. At least until some daring stranger on a cool motorcycle topples his world upside down on the first day of school. Modern magical AU".

The Wall of Arthur by supercalvin. ModernAU has no magic, but this is just adorable, I love it. "In a surprisingly good David Attenborough impression, Gwaine said, “Here you see the remarkable mating ritual of the Merlin and the Arthur. Which involves mostly insults and swearing.”

Or: How Merlin and Arthur Met and Why There is a Restroom Wall Dedicated to Arthur’s Ass"

In Love With My Radio by lunchee. ModernAU is funny and sweet. Good fic. "Merlin listens to the radio, Arthur stalks Merlin, Morgana lives to create chaos in Arthur's life, and then everyone goes to McDonalds! Also, love happens.

From the km prompt: Arthur has an anonymous blog/LJ/twitter where he posts about his life, and Merlin follows it RELIGIOUSLY. Arthur starts posting about how he's stalking this amazingly hot guy.

My Significant Bother

Merlin's job as PR junior on the royal account isn't as glamorous as people believe: Most nights, he's saving Arthur, Duke of York and black sheep of the family, from possibly committing monarchy-shattering shenanigans. When tragedy hits and Arthur is now second in line to the throne, the public doesn't react too favorably to the new Prince of Wales.

A solution has to be found and Merlin's contribution is key to the problem: Roped into posing as Arthur's fake boyfriend, he's supposed to make Arthur's popularity levels rise with his steadfast and relatable presence and elevate him from scandalous rake to romantic figure...

For Without You I Am Lost

What if… Throughout the centuries, the magic in Merlin grew? Like, every sorcerer/witch and so on has a limit for growth, yeah? Some level that they reach and that’s it. No more power for you. But Merlin /doesn’t/ since he’s not /with/ magic but instead /is/ magic. So. Like. It grew with him and he learned more and more but he’s all alone, right? Has no Anchor. So he’s doing all he can, spreading the knowledge, educating people on and about magic and for a while it works. Magic is accepted, taught, even revered all over the world. The world prospers. Peace and harmony grows. Yeah, sure, there’s baddies from time to time but in general all is well yeah?

But… All this power that keeps on growing inside. What if it… Starts corrupting him? Like. Unintentionally, bit by bit. He doesn’t even notice that some of his decisions sHOuLd seem… Wrong, maybe..? But.. Power grows and grows and morality blurs for him. After all, he’s all alone. He has no one there for him. He’s always there for the EntiRe PoPulaTion of the WoRLd, but HE’S alone.

So what if… Arthur returns because Albion’s greatest need is to be saved… From Merlin..?

We Begin Again (Series)

*** Absolute fave. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read this series, especially the first two books ***

For many long years Merlin waited.

For the other part of his soul, for the other half of his life. He was born to serve Arthur. So that meant he was also born to wait. Even if it took a thousand years. Even if the wait seemed never to end.

Until one day, suddenly, it did.

When Arthur stumbles from the Lake of Avalon 1,500 years after his death, he finds a world unlike the one he knew. Faced with the loss of everyone he loved, and the threat of impending prophecy, Arthur must learn what it means to be not just a king, but the Once and Future King. Merlin does all he can to guide him, even as he struggles to hide his love for his king, and his fear of losing him again.

Story includes sass, banter, horseplay, & True Love.

In For Keeps

Merlin and Prince Arthur have been in a relationship for a while, unbeknownst to others. Arthur is ready to take the next step and make them official, but Merlin isn’t yet. The restrictions on his life and the mere idea of the lack of privacy seem too much for him to bear.

Separated over Christmas, overworked and overwrought, an accident befalls Arthur.

Cue a worried Merlin racing overnight on a trouble-ridden trip to Scotland on Christmas Eve.

Well, the course of true love never runs smooth...

*** I swear I’ve read these a million times ***

The Pact

The ancient Albion Pact demands that the Prince of Wales must take someone magic born as his soul-bonded consort by the time he is 30 or face death. Before he was a Detective Inspector Warlock, Merlin Emrys was young and in love and made a promise to Prince Arthur -- and now Arthur is calling it in.

The Lonely King

The Prince of Wales at his school. Merlin was sure it was all just a very bad joke. A modern royalty AU.

There Are No Gays In Football

When a deeply-closeted Arthur Pendragon finally earns a spot in Camelot's first XI, he's dead set on breaking records, not one of sport's last taboos. But life, like football, is a funny old game, and sometimes the only way up is out. Especially once he realizes he's arse over tit for the new physio.

A queer Arthurian tale of courage, love, and football.

The Difference of You

It’s not that Arthur Pendragon can’t get girls to fall for him; it’s just that he can’t seem to keep them around. Relationships and Arthur aren't on the same page at all, really, but one day there's Merlin on a bus and then it's different.

But it’s a Good Refrain

Arthur doesn't care much about the popular radio program Dragon's Lonely Hearts until his ex-girlfriend calls in to slag him off and get advice. When he calls in and has an on-air argument with the host, it starts off more than he expected, including meddling friends, over involved fans, and maybe love.

No Matter How Far Away You Roam

“I was wondering if you might come home with me.” Merlin stops mid-rant and stares at him, and then down at his panini again, and back at Arthur. This is a panini of lies and pain. He can tell already.

“For Christmas? I’ve got an uncle and a mother and a sister waiting for me at home, in case you hadn’t remembered, I’m not going home with you just because you’re a workaholic.”

“No, it’s. My mum might be under the impression that we’re a little bit married.”

In which Merlin gets conned into spending Christmas with Arthur's family and pretending to be his husband, because somehow this is his life

Magic Reveal

What I’d have done

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013721/chapters/11522743

It’s set around season 3. It’s mostly Arthur centric and it’s really good. It’s not out of character at all and is a realistic depiction of what could have happened in cannon

These are my bookmarked favorites! I love these magic reveals!

In relief:

The Map of Honor:

By the Sword:

Dying to Return

Turn of the Tide:

 I tried to keep it plot heavy. Most are Arthur/Merlin, but a couple isn't.

Family Tree - Fic starts after defeating Cenred's forces and an army of the dead in the siege during the Tears of Uther Pendragon

Without Song - In which Arthur is envoy to a grieving family, and Merlin rides with him.

So Are They All, All Honourable Men - Merlin gets into a fight with a knight

I've come Too Far To See The End - Morgana finds out Merlin is Emrys.

Onfindan - The aftermath of Athur finding out

The Perfect Scry - Arthur finds out Merlin has magic and Merlin doesn't know he has magic. So Arthur does what any BFF would do: everything he can to keep Merlin from finding out he has magic so he don't freak out.

After Ealdor - There’s a fine line between good and evil, and Merlin wonders if he’s crossed it

Pendragon Red - Camelot is overrun by sorcerers, Uther is dead, and Arthur wonders what the sorcerer want him and Merlin so much for.

They Call Him Emrys - Bring Emrys to the Dark Tower, Morgana demands. Or Gwen will die. Canon AU that diverges in mid S5.

The Best-Laid Plans - A group of mercenaries pose as Knights of Camelot after the disaster of Agravaine and the dragon. They run into Arthur and his Knights.

The Immortal’s Encore series

Believing that he has long since failed in his destiny, an immortal Merlin decides the only way to make things right is to break the barriers of time, rewrite history, and correct his mistakes. Unfortunately, such a task is not so simple in practice. The threads of time are a slippery opponent, and people are not easily made pawns in destiny's game. And perhaps the greatest threat of them all? Merlin himself. A millenium has left him greatly changed. Is he still the man that destiny chose, or will Merlin's return only bring a new doom to Camelot with it?

Not very well known. This is one of the best fanfics I ever read. I’ve checked so many of the classics and most of the most commented, most bookmarked ones, with the most kudos. I’ve accidentally stumbled on this one and since that day I am completely obsessed with it. The best BAMF Merlin I ever read, the writing style is impeccable, the plot is smart and well planned and thought through, characterisations are on point, the consequences are realistic and so complex. I cannot recommend this enough. There are 4 works in the story so far and it’s WIP, but the writer is very productive and disciplined, the updates are happening once or twice a week.

Lay Your Head on The Shoulder of a Good Friend

With Camelot readying for the upcoming gathering of rulers of the Southern Kingdoms to discuss peace, Uther has tasked Arthur with an additional duty: befriend the Prince of Essetir and learn anything he can of King Balinor, and of magic, and of dragons, that might be of interest should the treaty not succeed.

That's easier said than done, as he and Prince Merlin don't exactly hit it off immediately. But, befriending Merlin and learning of magic and life in Essetir leads Arthur down the paths of discovering long held secrets surrounding his own birth, and his mother's ill health, and his father's hatred of all things magic.

Adding even more complications to the mix are rowdy knights, frustrating princesses, a possible traitor in their midst, and an overly-verbose dragon; not to mention the burgeoning and peculiar feelings for his fellow prince that Arthur struggles to put a name to.

I love this fanfic. It’s written by Skitz_phenom, not very well known, but this author is amazing. Incredible BAMF Merlin, Arthur & Merlin are so very well written, she/he written one of the best sexiest and steamiest scenes in Merthur fanfic world. The story is great and touches your heart. Completed.

If you will enjoy this, I highly recommend checking their other works.

N16 writes great magic reveal fanfics (not just)

There are 24 works written by this author. I haven’t read them all, but the ones I’ve checked are great. The theme of so many of N16 fanfic stories is the reveal.

To Kill a Nightmare is one of those. It include BAMF Merlin tag as well. Once again, if you enjoy it, check the other works of this talented author.

These are various lists from different individuals that I saved in a document some time ago.I need to free up space on my computer… However, I'm hesitant to delete them. I'm not familiar with all the blogs mentioned; if you recognize any, please inform me!

#merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #recomendation #merlin fanfiction #fic rec #magic reveal #my computer was full

[lipglossanon]

Winter’s Knight

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie

title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘

“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”

Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked. 

It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride. 

Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination. 

A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features. 

You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side. 

“Lovely, no?”

A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest. 

A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone. 

That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes. 

He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.

“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear. 

When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial. 

He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”

You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”

He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you. 

“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”

You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”

His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”

“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound. 

He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy. 

“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”

You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now. 

“Hey!”

He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.

“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture. 

He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before. 

“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.

Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room.  He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom. 

“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”

A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night. 

You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.

You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you. 

“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”

You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight. 

“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”

He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”

You giggle, “Guess so.”

He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you. 

“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.

“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you. 

You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”

Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”

He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”

“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket. 

You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.

His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”

You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”

He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger. 

“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”

Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”

His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”

Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger. 

“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”

You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket. 

“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”

Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs. 

He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay. 

“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers. 

“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place. 

His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea. 

“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off. 

With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide. 

When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder. 

“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”

You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind. 

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?” 

As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket. 

She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”

You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”

Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”

You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”

“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”

“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”

She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”

“Hang on!”

You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”

“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”

She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”

“Night!”

The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm. 

“Expecting a skeleton?”

You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you. 

Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today. 

“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”

His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”

You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two. 

“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”

A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”

“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”

Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”

You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered. 

Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed. 

Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two. 

“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view. 

She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him. 

“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows. 

“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”

You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around. 

She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”

“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”

You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion. 

He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”

She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”

He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”

“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically. 

“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”

It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud. 

Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”

You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”

He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room. 

Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”

Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone. 

“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”

His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”

You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“

He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both. 

“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge. 

A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face. 

“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”

“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”

You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”

He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”

Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”

His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses. 

You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.

“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”

“Have you read the name underneath?”

Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath. 

“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself. 

Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation. 

You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”

He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”

“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”

He flinches at that, “My other wife.”

You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”

Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together. 

“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”

He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”

Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849. 

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”

“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”

You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”

His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up. 

“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”  

“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”

His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”

You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees. 

“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body. 

“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”

“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”

Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”

Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling. 

Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting. 

“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”

Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair. 

Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you. 

“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”

“At the time?” You squeak out.

He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”

You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas. 

“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”

Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait. 

“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”

He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain. 

“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”

He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything. 

“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”

“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words. 

“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”

“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”

“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”

Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat. 

“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”

His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.

“That’s easily done.”

He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight. 

His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”

A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin. 

“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”

Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.

“Yes.”

His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest. 

Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks. 

“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”

Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck. 

“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.

Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh. 

“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”

Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”

The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”

You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes. 

Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle. 

“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight. 

He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh. 

Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side. 

“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”

You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome. 

He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin. 

Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly.  He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly. 

Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs. 

With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets. 

Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls. 

He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood. 

“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”

 Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips. 

“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”

You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.

“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”

“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”

He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit. 

He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.

“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky  material.

He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh. 

“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones. 

This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock. 

“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”

A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you. 

“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”

You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.

While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.

“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across. 

He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist. 

“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together. 

“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands. 

“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.

“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”

He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple. 

“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth. 

He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh. 

“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still. 

You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light. 

“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly. 

Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy. 

“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”

“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.

Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit. 

Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep. 

“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment. 

He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy. 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly making you  whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.

You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole. 

“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.

He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat. 

“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”

Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick. 

With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body. 

“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix. 

“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses. 

Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier. 

“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him. 

“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”

Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head. 

His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick. 

“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.” 

He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat. 

“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white. 

Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you. 

“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms. 

“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”

You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”

He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest. 

With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 

Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport. 

It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying. 

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #12 days of smutmas #smutmas 2023 #ao3rex #vampire leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon kennedy smut #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut #vampire!leon s kennedy #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon s kennedy smut #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Dante's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Dante's Path

Pairing: Dante x Reader Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all. Author's Notes: Fucking. Finally. It took forever, but here I have around 20 pages of a demon wanting to marry the reader and Dante going feral over it. Took me ALL THIS TIME to write and I do apologize, but SO MUCH has happened since October, I'm finally managing to get my life back on track. So heeeeeey, here we have Dante's part of the Halloween Special for 2023! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand the road so far yes Supernatural fan right here and have fun!! But I do have to thank @furyeclipse - the idea came from an ask sent a thousand years ago and I've been reading her works on ao3 and that motivated™ me to write again! Be sure to check Fury's work over there!

Oh. And I highly recommend an AC/DC playlist while reading this. Just sayin'. We all know Dante is an AC/DC guy

Devil May Halloween 2023 – Dante’s Path

“You know, of all the things that could have happened to me as a hunter, getting into a forced marriage with a demon lord was the very last one I would’ve imagined.”

And you were definitely the only person in the world that could have made Kyrie laugh in a moment like that – at least, that was what she thought as she smiled for the first time since you both had stepped in that place.

It was desecrated ground, that was the reason why the demons chose such a place. An old cathedral, now turned into an abandoned set of ruins with a cemetery of forgotten souls in the back. Some stone walls still stood tall, but the roof was gone, along with some windows and part of its gothic architecture. The shroud of the darkest tones of night slowly crept over, having rows and sets of candles of all sizes as the only source of light beside the moon.

You and Kyrie were being kept in a secured room – the only with still four walls to hold you in, and a heavy set of crumbling wooden doors. You were handed wedding attires – white, as to demonstrate the purity of your human souls compared to demons – and shoved in there, forced to change before the ritual.

You tried to resist, but as soon as they threatened Kyrie, you had to abide. There was nothing you could do: you had promised Nero nothing would happen to her, and she was your weak spot that night.

“We will figure something out…” Kyrie murmured with a ghost of a smile on her soft lips, even if she didn’t carry too much hope in her heart. She knew that if you were alone, you would probably be fist-fighting demons with all your might to drag yourself out of that place, but with her by your side… She had never seen you so compliant.

“Hmmm. Yeah. I’m still trying to think of something.” You huffed, sitting by her side on a stone loveseat, having your elbows on your knees and your face cradled by your hands. “I feel naked without my stuff. So uncomfortable.”

Once again, Kyrie giggled. Indeed, it was probably the first time she ever saw you without your everyday clothes and specially without your weapons: be it your guns, your sword or even a pocketknife you carried around for emergency self-defense. She could only imagine how stripped you felt at that moment.

“Well, if it serves as consolation, this is definitely not my style.” She whispered in response, making you laugh immediately. Indeed, poor Kyrie looked like a princess covered in Chantilly. Too over-the-top for her, and you could say the same about your forced attire.

“Oh, what a mess we got ourselves into this time, huh…?” You still had that laugh in your lips, making Kyrie respond with a sad smile. “Though I bet Nero is going to die seeing you dressed as a bride.”

“He will never admit it.” Kyrie had to giggle with that mental image. She could almost see Nero standing in front of her, red as a tomato, stuttering while trying to maintain that nonchalant punk attitude he always tried to – even if Kyrie could easily see through all of that. “He does get all flustered whenever I’m wearing anything slightly bridal looking.”

“There you go. The hideous Chantilly wedding dress will have at least one good effect after all.” You sighed with a laugh, following Kyrie on her giggles as she blushed herself, happy to imagine that.

The moment wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt something shifting in the air. You immediately got up on your feet, keeping Kyrie safe and sound behind you. Her curious, scared eyes tried to pick up what was going on, but neither of you could see – you could just feel it.

With some fiery sparkles, one of the demons responsible for that mess materialized right in front of you.

“Well, well. It is good to see you are already prepared.” Horns and sharp features, but in the suit of a ruthless man – that was the best way you could describe the demon lords. They had the leathery wings, skin as rough as that of a lizard, eyes bright like flames in the dark – but something still carried the resemblance of a human being. They were tall – even taller than most doors – with sharp nails to be used as claws, fangs ready to tear throats apart. But they were built in the image of humans: something quite rare when it came to demons.

“Not out of our own free will – you shouldn’t be that pleased your minions managed to coerce us into these horrid things.” You pointed at your own attire, making Kyrie look up at you with tense eyes.

It was something she admired, to say the least. You could all look in the face of the most threatening of creatures and still manage to say something to taunt or belittle them. She wished she had that kind of courage.

“You do have a point, human.” The demon had a quick giggle in his voice, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. It wasn’t every day one of those things would agree with your big mouth. “Come. I would very much like to speak with you.”

*

Oh. Demons and their teleportation shenanigans – to be quite honest, you hated it. Whenever you used any of their magic or even Vergil’s void thing from the Yamato, you always felt a little dizzy afterwards. It took you some quick seconds to make sense you were in what seemed to be the abandoned church’s library – in a room made of stones and rotten books, lit by decrepit candles and having just one usable table in a corner. The demon lords had clearly made that their own room for the day.

“It’s rare a demon wishes to talk.” You finally managed to say while the demon lord slowly walked towards his desk, having you in the middle of the room. Now Kyrie was alone and you had no idea what was going on with her – you had to play your cards well to see her alive again. “According to my experience, your kind prefers a bloodier approach.”

“I take it you haven’t met many demon lords then.” He had a nonchalant tone, waving his hand in disregard as he approached his desk and leaned into it, staring at you. “Nevertheless, that is more Orcus’ style.”

“Your little friend.”

“Al Pacino did play the devil once, didn’t he…?” The demon laughed in response and you did your best to cover up the shock that he understood your Scarface reference.

Movies and pop culture references with Dante were a given – the same way Vergil was an encyclopedia of forgotten and obscure texts, Dante was the go-to man when it came to movies, especially the classic ones. Making references and laughing with each other was something both of you cherished wholeheartedly – and you never thought a demon would get it.

Vergil never did – and he had to have spent some time with those guys in the last decades.

“Well, I don’t think you brought me down here just to talk about movies.” You crossed your arms, trying as much as you could to look tough in that attire. Which wasn’t going very well for you. “And it certainly wasn’t to properly ask for my hand in marriage.”

“Oh, no, no…” He answered with a laugh that crackled like fire – and you could easily see the amusement in his eyes. “I wanted to see what the son of Sparda saw in you… To bind himself to one of the weakest creatures known. Just like his father before him.”

“It’s not like Dante has married me, you know? We’re not like Eva and Sparda.” You raised one of your eyebrows. Something about that conversation was very… Weird. To put it mildly. “We’re not bonded like you want to do today. And on that note, I have to point out: marriages are quite religious. Aren’t you guys going to combust spontaneously trying to do something holy?”

“Oh, but you are bonded. He may not have chosen his father’s path, but his heart does not lie.” The demon had something quite mischievous in his eyes, and you were starting to notice the difference between him and Orcus: the second one was more of a brute, a lord of war so to speak – the one you were talking to, Erlach, was very cunning; but there was a glint of bloodthirstiness in the back of his eyes. That made him even more dangerous than you gave him credit for at first. “I shall never understand why Sparda did not wish to follow the ritual with his human. That would have made him so powerful, not even the most dangerous creatures in Hell would have dared to slaughter his family. A shame really.” He tossed aside a charred painting of Sparda and Eva: old, barely holding itself together, but still clearly depicting the couple holding hands and smiling to whoever decided to look upon them. “We do have our own rituals – and demons are no strangers to marriages. It has another name in Hell, though, it is a binding ritual: where souls connect and one can be made more from the other’s power.”

“Oh. So the other just accepts it’s going to be a puny little thing beside their partner? Sounds more like slavery to me.” You wouldn’t give the demon the benefit of the doubt nor make it all sound so wonderful. Anything related to devils always had a catch – and that had to be the catch to their own twisted version of a ‘marriage’.

And in all honesty, you weren’t looking forward to be made a slave to a demon lord.

“Some creatures enjoy that.” And the smile that covered Erlach’s lips could be only considered devilish. You did your best not to look like you were agreeing – even if you knew, deep down, that yes, some people did enjoy that. “Every con has its pro. With the binding and forfeit of power, comes protection and status. Few would want to desecrate the partner of a powerful demon – it could easily be the last thing they would do.”

“if I am bonded to Dante, then, I wonder why would someone like you decide to mess with the chosen partner of the son of Sparda.” Now you had a small smile hidden in the corner of your lips, slightly raising your head in hubris. You wouldn’t lie: the status you got from him among demons was always very welcome. “Not that I really need him to help me. If I had my weapons, you would all be laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood – and I’d be home celebrating Halloween with him.”

Erlach stared into your eyes for a good four seconds before opening a threatening smile with his sharp fangs. His own eyes burned like fire, but you never let his gaze go – it wasn’t in you to be scared by the likes of him. You had seen worse, you had fought worse… And only you knew how threatening Dante’s eyes could look when he was half asleep in a nightmare of his young years with you trying to wake him up so he could have some peace. That was worse than any demon you could ever face.

“Indeed, that is why I needed some leverage against you.” He waved his hand nonchalantly towards the door and you immediately understood he was talking about Kyrie. “It was never my intention to allow Orcus to bond to some creature as powerful as mine… But I did not knew the extent of your powers, so I needed something to keep you in line. Luckily, Sparda’s grandson is not as attuned to powerful partners as Sparda’s children.”

You furrowed your brows. Whenever you talked between the members of the crew, there was a tacit agreement Kyrie was indeed the most powerful of all – for her ability to love openly, to cry, to be vulnerable and to care with such an open heart.

But those abilities were inherently human – and appreciated in humans rather than demons. In the human point of view, Kyrie was stronger than all of you together, and no one could argue against that. But in the demonic point of view… You and Lady were top of the list when it came to being able to take demons in a fair fight.

But you… You had Dante’s heart.

“It was part of our bargain. But I would never allow Orcus to bind to the most powerful of partners, would I?” Again, that smile painted his lips. You remained in the middle of the room, holding his gaze, not even flinching as he approached you. “I must admit, though, I never thought you would have this… Fire.”

As Erlach stopped with a few inches from your own face, you didn’t recoil. You remained with your arms crossed, standing as tall as you could in front of that huge demon lord as his fiery eyes just stared deeply into yours – and you stared back.

But you sensed something… Different. In his words, in his gaze. You wanted to furrow your brows as you were slowly coming to realize something, but you did your best to remain as proud and emotionless as you could – and Erlach took note of that. A pleasurable note.

“I can see what the son of Sparda saw in you.” That devilish smile colored his lips once more as the demon took another step towards you. It took you a great amount of willpower not to step back. You would never step back. “When demons bind with demons, it is one sort of marriage. When demons bind with humans, on Samhein, with the correct ritual… Well, it is a very different thing. A kind of binding never seen before – and never attempted, not even by Sparda.” Erlach approached with another step, making you raise your head even higher. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream Dante’s name and watch your red devil storm inside that room and suplex Erlach face first on the floor – as he deserved. The demon lord, though, offered one hand to you, palm facing up. “At first, I targeted you for Dante would not take a weakling as a partner, but now… I am more than inclined to take you as mine. With me, you would have the protection and status of royalty in Hell. We can take over entire worlds. And they would all be mine and yours to rule.” You just kept staring at him as Erlach’s fiery eyes stared even more deeply into yours. “You just have to say yes.”

To say your head was spinning was an understatement. What a wild ride that night was becoming – and something inside you stirred, telling you it would become even wilder. Were you reading his words right…? His gestures…? Not that Erlach was being subtle about it, he was being as blunt as his kind could be, but… Were you going crazy? You were, probably. That was a more plausible explanation than what you had to admit yourself – than what you were living right at that moment.

“If you think I’d give up Dante for power, then you can see nothing he saw in me.” You spat back, still holding your head high. “You are just as clueless as the rest of your kind.”

Erlach laughed back – not a laugh of an evil demon as you were used to, but one of delight. He… Enjoyed your answer…?

“The more you speak, the more I see.” He finally chuckled, stepping back after one last stare. “And I will see you later.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were back to the cold, abandoned crypt you and Kyrie were being held hostages. As your dizziness faded and you came back to reality, you saw her holding one of your hands, checking if you were ok with one of her palms on your forehead. Even if you didn’t feel lightheaded anymore, your mind was still troubled – and you had to sit down on the stone loveseat you shared with Kyrie earlier.

“Are you ok, y/n? What happened?” She sat by your side, big hazelnut eyes staring at you with warmth and humanity – so much different from the fiery pit of Erlach’s eyes. So much more welcoming and cozier. So much more like home. You would’ve hugged her if you weren’t so disoriented. “Y/n. What did he do to you? What happened?!”

“I think…” You finally managed to put into words what just happened – even if you didn’t want to say what you thought out loud. It seemed that by saying it, a sort of magic would make it become true. “I think… A demon lord just fell in love with me.”

You and Kyrie just stared at each other in horror, not even knowing what to say.

“What the hell…?!”

And Kyrie finally managed to put into words what you had been thinking the whole time.

*

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Nico just stared at Lady as Dante growled while mounting on his bike.

To be fair, Nico wasn’t the safest person to be behind a wheel, even more in a dire situation like that with Nero by her side looking like he was about to bite ankles and throw punches – but something about Dante looking like he was about to burst into flames while viciously riding the Cavaliere and growling in a half-distorted demon voice was enough to get the gunsmith ever so slightly… Concerned.

“Everything ok there, Dante, or do we need to take you in the van?” Lady screamed out her window, while Nico hoped the bright red glint in Dante’s eyes was only her imagination. “You look like you wanna beat me in a race! We hunt demons to save humans, not run them over, you know?”

“Eh, demon spidey-sense is tinglin’, Lady! That’s no good!” Dante screamed back, doing his best to keep the demonic part of his voice repressed inside his chest. He would have more than enough opportunities to let that explode. “Y/n is unsafe. I can feel it. And I…” With that, Dante drove to the back of the van because of a narrowing road, only to come back a few seconds later. “Don’t…” Another interruption for Dante not to run over a citizen cluelessly crossing the street and almost being run over by Nico. “Like it!”

His last phrase couldn’t keep the distortion in anymore and it sounded like a deep roar that came out of his chest like fire. Trish could already see the fangs in his bared teeth: those demons were in for the fight of a lifetime, for everyone knew making Dante’s lover feel unsafe was one of the worst sins in the Sparda dictionary.

Nico opened her mouth to talk to Nero – because, maybe, he could beat some sense into his uncle’s head, given they had the very same heritage – but for the first time she just put the cigarette between her lips and decided to shut up.

She was still getting used to Nero’s new trigger, so the halfway-into-turning state was something Nico didn’t really know how to deal with. By this point, Nero’s nails were definitely claws and his fangs were very much similar to Dante’s. He was fidgeting everywhere, messing with Blue Rose, as if something was really wrong with the gun and he had to fix it – a thousand fucking times. Nico could also swear his eyes were starting to glow with an inhumane gold tinge and that was very alien to her.

“Hey, kid! What about your spidey-sense tingling? Anything new?” Luckily for Nico, she had Trish around – and that woman was a pure devil, so there were very few things she feared. They all knew Nero was getting used to his own new powers, so Trish always decided to stay around and lend a hand whenever Nero had to go through something emotionally heavy – she knew it herself that demon instinct always came crashing like a wild wave whenever emotions were running high.

“Eh, she’s not good too, Trish. Worried as heck, I can feel it.” Nero mumbled under his breath, fixing the barrels of the Blue Rose for the tenth time, probably – not even needing to mention he was talking about Kyrie. With a click, the gun cocked back to its original state and Nero turned his now slightly golden aquamarine eyes to the devil leaning on his seat. “And I don’t like it either. Not at fucking all.”

Nico had to say, it always sent shivers down her spine when Nero spoke with his demonic voice like that. She was used to him being her goofy sort of brother, bickering with her down the road and tossing over-the-top, smart mouthed taunts to demons. Hearing him like that was… Something else. And Nico didn’t like it that much as well.

*

The last time you felt unsafe seemed like a whole lifetime ago.

You tried to control your hands as they wanted to start shaking – but you kept telling yourself you needed to keep Kyrie safe. After all, you were the devil hunter, not her. Kyrie could kill every single one in the crew with kindness, but not those devils… Those had to be killed with blades and gunpowder.

Being with Dante had given you something you never really had before, and just now you noticed it was tied to your red devil: safety. Even if he wasn’t around physically, you could always count on the fact that Dante, son of Sparda, Crimson Slayer, would bend Hell itself around his will to keep you from any kind of harm. It had never downed on you because, up until that point, that was a given.

Today, Halloween of all days, was a little more complicated. Dante wasn’t around, the whole ritual was bound to have some heavy magic to keep him at bay, you were completely unarmed and the demons you were up against were another kind – not the stupid, belligerent type you handled almost on a daily basis; no, those were smart, cunning and dangerous.

To top all of that, you had Kyrie on your side. If you were alone, you’d probably already be trying some unhinged escape attempts, but they were so smart on deciding to kidnap her as well. She was your weak spot on that situation and the fact that you felt unsafe and couldn’t do your best to protect her, only highlighted the fear you started to feel creeping up at the base of your stomach.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the only thing that could at least try to calm your nerves was to imagine being back in Dante’s arms, at the Devil May Cry, the smell of warm pizza around and him humming some old tunes you both loved. That was home. That was your haven. Dante was your refuge, keeping you secure from every evil thing that could attack you in this world, and he wasn’t there.

For a split second, you wondered if he could feel how much your heart was aching – screaming with all its might in the hopes he would hear its call.

Suddenly, two demons entered the room you and Kyrie were being held. They didn’t have to say much: with swords pointed at both of you and the heavy doors wide open, you knew it was time. Knowing you had to calm your nerves so at least she could have a chance to escape, you got up and calmly walked in front of Kyrie – head high and staring those demons right back in their eyes.

“Everything will be ok.” You murmured back over your shoulder, knowing Kyrie would listen. “If you find a safe chance to run, do it and don’t look back. I can handle them better alone.”

You felt Kyrie’s soft hands brushing on one of yours, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Don’t put yourself in danger, y/n. I don’t wanna run without you.”

You closed your eyes, chuckling a little in silence. She was indeed an angel among so many demons – including all of you in the crew. “Oh, Kyrie. You have to learn… The whole crew would die for you, don’t you know that already…?” And even if your words weren’t the kindest, you had the sweetest tone in your voice – saying nothing but the truth. “You run. It’ll take more than a few demons to bring me down.”

Kyrie knew you were lying only to make her feel safer – there was a tinge of bitterness in your sweetness, a slight glint of sadness in your eyes. Those were more than a few demons, and both of you knew it.

She could only sigh in response and confirm with her head. You and Dante were bittersweetly so alike: always lying and pretending nothing was too serious, putting yourselves on the line for those you loved, trying to make them stop worrying while you were both ready to walk right into certain death. She had seen how angry you got every time he tried to pull something like that on you – and Kyrie had to smile even if a little bit upon realizing how similar you and your lover were, even if you hated when he did that.

Both of your thoughts had to be violently changed and brought back to the present moment when the time came to enter what one day was a beautiful, untarnished cathedral. The imposing gothic architecture was in shambles, the stars shining clearly in the deep night sky above your heads – the high peaks of the cathedral long gone. A long tapestry on the ground, torn apart and eaten by parasites, lead the way in a dirty blood red to the middle of the aisle, where a grandiose bonfire stood and lit none other than your groom.

That was definitely not the devil you had intended to marry if you ever walked down the aisle. Also, you always thought if you ever married Dante, the ceremony would be in the Devil May Cry: you would enter the shop, dressed in your best hunting clothes – maybe something leather, carefully picked by Trish to make you even more mesmerizing – watching Dante smiling at you, leaning on his desk, arms crossed and love pouring from his eyes.

That was the perfect marriage for you alright. And leaving for a quick honeymoon with your red devil, riding on the Cavaliere, a few cans tied to it with a “just married” sign on the back, waving at the crew at the door of the shop while Dante made the motorcycle burn the road with its demonic power? More than perfect.

“You shall enter first. The other human stays until your ritual is performed.” One of the demons held Kyrie hostage, pointing your way down the derelict aisle. Her eyes were filled with fear, and you couldn’t do anything but comply.

Holding your head high, you walked down the damned aisle. Not like a perfect fiancé, but like a wronged force of nature, just waiting for the right time to unleash your fury against all those demons. You were wearing those ridiculous clothes, on that ridiculous place, while demons started chanting and playing a song for the demonic ritual that had just started, stripped of your guns, blades and clothes.

To say you wanted to sucker punch Erlach on his face until his sharp teeth fell out was an understatement.

And yet, he had nothing but admiration and fire in his eyes for you. The more you approached, the more he smiled, offering you his hand as you were getting closer and closer – you refused to take it, standing in front of him just like you did when he first talked to you.

“You know, the kidnapping and taking my gear away, I could forgive. But these clothes…?” You pointed down at that hideous thing that was forced to you. “You could’ve done better. A lot better.”

“I judged you by all the mortals I’ve ever met – and now I realize I shouldn’t have done so. Do apologize, exquisite creature.” And Erlach answered your insult with a delighted distorted laugh. You just remained there, looking like you had just stuck a flip flop into a toaster, not knowing what to do. It seemed that the more you tried to repel him, the more Erlach liked you. “But rituals shouldn’t be taken lightly. One should wear the proper attire.”

“To think a demon would’ve dressed his counterpart a lot better and risqué than this…” You sighed, pushing all those ruffles away from your face as he, once more, tried to take your hand and guide you to approach the bonfire. “I thought this was going to be a dual wedding. Where’s your friend?”

“Orcus can try to pull off his ritual after I’m done with mine.” Erlach had a devilish smile pulling his lips up in a distorted line. It was a little… Unsettling. “We… Agreed such a powerful ritual should be done one at a time.”

“Huh. That’ll be before or after you kill him?” You had one eyebrow lifted and Erlach laughed with joy in his voice, now finally forcing you to walk with him towards the bonfire. “You got quite the silver tongue to convince him you’re gonna let him go through with his ritual with his head still on his shoulders.”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.” Erlach forced you to spin around and look deep into his eyes, holding you by both of your arms in an iron clasp you couldn’t break away easily without your weapons. “You are very welcome to discover soon enough. I am mesmerized with your cunning and wit – so much better than all those pitiful uninspired creatures I have to live with every day. We will be quite a pair, sweet temptation.”

That admiration was there, that fire burning in his eyes, and… Lust…?! You had to contain a shiver of pure terror thinking a creature like that lusted for you. It wasn’t necessarily his appearance – you did find Dante one hell of a piece of temptation in whatever form he was, be it human, Devil Trigger or even his Sin Devil Trigger – but his soul. Erlach lacked the very thing that made you fall madly and hopelessly for Dante: his golden heart, his gentle soul, his kind eyes and his unapologetic humanity.

That was why it didn’t matter how Dante looked like: you would always fall in love with him. Even if he was just a piece of rock with googly eyes laying on his desk, you would love that rock with all your heart.

“What if I refuse to be your pair?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, trying to hide the fear creeping at the base of your stomach. “As far as I know, all marriages require a resounding yes from both parts. What are you gonna do? Torture me?”

“As tempting as that sounds…” And even if you didn’t show it, your blood certainly froze in your veins for a second. “I fear you would take a very long time to break under such circumstances. The Son of Sparda chose you for your brave heart and hardened soul, I can see that now. Luckily for demonic rituals, the sacrifices don’t need to consent.”

“Oh. I thought I was more than just a disposable piece of meat. I’m hurt.” Masking your fear with jokes and taunts, you had learned that with the very best. Dante had all the blame for that.

“Don’t be, my creature.” Erlach’s words were laced with a laugh while he took a ceremonial dagger from an altar nearby. “That is how humans are usually named in our rituals. You will remain alive, or else, it doesn’t work. I do need your blood… A reasonable amount, but nothing lethal.”

His hand clasped your wrist with a tight grip you couldn’t break from. Your heart started beating faster and faster, as you looked around trying to find Kyrie – crossing her terrified eyes as she watched from the distance, close to the entrance where once was a door, fearing for your life. You wanted to mutter some soothing words for her, but not even you could lie that much: your survival instincts kicked in and your adrenaline spiked. It was now or never, but you had to escape.

Erlach held your arm above a bowl made of pure gold, now darkened with time and stained with all the sacrifices it contained. He spoke some words in demonic language, while the chanting got even more intense – some things you could understand, but the others were lost as your mind became hazy with trying to think what to do.

It was a surprise to all – you closed your free hand in a fist and did exactly what you wanted to do since you saw that hideous thing you were wearing: sucker punch that conceited demon right on his face.

Erlach was taken aback for a moment, looking back at you with confused eyes. Seizing his distraction, you disarmed him and took the ceremonial dagger to yourself, cutting his hand that held your wrist and demanding him to let you go. Erlach stumbled back in awe, while you took a fighting stance with the dagger in your hand, ready to kill – but not ready to get married.

And he smiled.

“Such fire…!” To say Erlach was ecstatic was an underestimation. “My creature… What are you going to do with that?” And he took a predator stance, as both of you studied your options in that fight.

If you could look back at Kyrie, you would see her smiling and supporting you as much as she could. To say she admired you, was to say you only liked Dante.

“I am going to kill every single demon in this cathedral… Including you.” Pointing the dagger at Erlach, it was your turn to allow a devilish smile to cover your lips. “Then, I’m taking my friend back home. Back into the arms of the only devil I will ever love. Back to Dante.”

As you spoke, you didn’t even hear a ragged guitar faintly playing in the background – and approaching ominously. The only thing you had in mind was a tunnel focus on Erlach, ready to tear him apart as soon as he got close to you.

“Oh, I will enjoy that, my creature. And I might even need to get rid of Dante myself.” As soon as he finished his sentence, though, you scoffed in a laughter of pure mockery.

“Now that, you would try. Dante is so much more than you will ever be – he will reduce you to ashes with a single stare. That’s how pitiful you are compared to him, Erlach.” As your words poured, you couldn’t stop laughing at how he looked slightly insulted. Fucking finally. “And I gotta say, that’s not the only thing Dante is really good at. He does burn like fire.”

“I will enjoy subduing you.” Erlach growled, baring his teeth. Now you managed to piss him off.

“I will enjoy watching you try.” You wouldn’t allow him too much time to think: spinning the blade in your hand for a better grip, you finally tried to stab him with a swift attack – but he easily dodged as you got even angrier at that ridiculous clothing you were wearing. Those frills and terrible fabric made your movement a lot debilitated.

You tried a few other attacks as Erlach dodged and started smiling again, enjoying every bit of it – starting to even try a few attacks, while you blocked with the dagger. It was all too fast… At the same pace of the guitar that now echoed loudly, with a very familiar song approaching the chorus.

“Now, my creature.” Erlach held your hand with the dagger when you tried another stab. Even if you were resisting, it was more entertaining than anything else: you needed your gear. He pulled you closer to him, even if you tried to stay away as much as you could. “It’s time to stop the fun. We can do this after the ritual.”

Before any of you could do anything else, the guitar finally arrived – with the screeching of what seemed a thousand tires, the smell of gasoline and the sound of a shot from a gun you knew so well.

Said shot hit the dagger, making it shatter into a thousand little pieces in your hand, causing Erlach to let go of you in a reflex – while AC/DC’s vocalist screamed he would shoot to thrill, play to kill.

“Well, I think we’re all ready for the afterparty, aren’t we, hot stuff?”

Dante had entered down the aisle with Cavaliere screeching, leaving a trail of fire behind him, stopping right in the middle to shoot that ceremonial dagger into oblivion. The smoke was still fresh on the barrel of his gun, while he had one foot on the ground, still mounted on his motorcycle, smirking at you with that gorgeous smile that, today, you wanted to kiss out of his mouth with so much passion the crew would probably have to throw a whole bucket of water on both of you to put out the fire.

And, right behind him, Nico crashed what was left of the cathedral’s door while blasting AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill because she would be damned if she didn’t put a good soundtrack for that moment. You could see her smiling behind the wheel, supporting every single bit of Dante’s antics.

The smile that painted your lips – a broad one, mixed with thrill and relief – was everything Dante wanted to see. That was all the confirmation he needed to know that pull in his chest was actually your heart desperately calling for him to help.

“Ya know, I could forgive the kidnapping, you got one hell of a devil hunter in your hands to deal with…” Dante now let go of Cavaliere, leaving it in the middle of the cathedral, walking down the aisle with the sassy walk you always loved to see – moving his hips and opening his arms, taunting with a pretended carefree attitude. The distortion in his voice, sharp teeth and claws betrayed his words, though – and you couldn’t be happier. “But what’s the deal with those clothes?!”

“Exactly.” You smiled back, sighing as if someone there finally understood you. Erlach just looked at you and back at Dante trying to contain his surprise – it wasn’t possible you were synchronized in even that. “I can barely move, how am I supposed to kick his ass?”

“I can help ya with that, pretty eyes.” Dante’s voice now became darker, leaning even further into his Devil Trigger. For a split second, you could swear you saw his demonic form taking over before Dante appeared again. His eyes were almost entirely taken by red, his hand already gripping the hilt of Rebellion. “But I gotta deal with a few of these clowns first.”

“I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” You had the proudest of smiles on your lips as the demons started to approach, ready to fight your red devil. “Show them what a real party looks like.”

“Ya don’t have to ask twice!”

“What are you all waiting for?!” As soon as Erlach screamed, the demons ran towards Dante as a pack of rabid creatures, ready to take his blood. Erlach smiled with pride as they surrounded the Crimson Slayer, already pouncing to take a bite – there was no way a hybrid could take so many demons at once in a fight.

Looking at the crew’s van, you managed to see Lady leaning by the vehicle, watching it all with excitement but refusing to get into the fight. You almost laughed upon seeing Trish holding Nero’s jacket while he tried to let himself go from her iron tight grip, probably saying he should be in the fight too – but his eyes weren’t locked on Dante or the swarming demons: Nero was looking for Kyrie.

And you would’ve done the same, finally questioning yourself where they were keeping her after all that confusion took over the ritual. Nero could very well let himself go of Trish, but everyone knew he had his own priority – a priority you couldn’t find, and that fact started worrying you.

You would have given that a better thought if a sudden fiery explosion hadn’t sent demons flying around the cathedral like fireworks. Dante’s Devil Trigger was on, but not his normal one… It was his Sin Devil Trigger in all his demonic glory, with leathery wings hovering him from the floor and Devil Sword Dante burning like fire in his hands.

To say that would be a slaughter… Again, would be putting it lightly. With the masterfully chosen soundtrack by Nico blasting on the background, Dante single handedly slayed all the demons that decided to cross between you and him. You risked a side look to Erlach, only to find the demon astonished by Dante’s form and power – and you couldn’t resist. You leaned on the altar next to you, with a matter-of-fact look in your eyes.

“He usually has this effect on people… And demons.” You had to say it. You just couldn’t refrain from taunting and annoying that silly devil who forced you to wear those terrible wedding clothes.

With the Devil Sword Dante dripping blood, the son of Sparda approached as he slayed all the demons that tried to fight. Dante was a frightening powerhouse – usually terrifying, but today even more… After all, the human he loved most in all dimensions was kidnapped by a conceited demon who thought he would have the chance to bind his beloved in a marriage ritual without their consent. Dante was beyond angry.

“It will only be an obstacle, then.” Erlach turned his eyes back to you. “Don’t think for a second I gave up, my creature. If I have to kill the son of Sparda, I will do so – with the power you will grant me with your blood.”

Once again, the demon held your arm – but this time, digging the nails into your skin, making you scream with the sudden pain. That made Dante immediately turn to you, being hit as well and inundating the cathedral with the smell of the blood of Sparda. His fighting became sloppy as he tried to approach you even faster – but it also became even more vicious.

Erlach dragged you back to the sacrificial bowl, as you tried to get away. Even with your fighting, your limited movements weren’t helping too much. As he extended your arm above the bowl, you managed to see – behind him, in the distance, covered in shadows – Orcus holding Kyrie hostage, searching everywhere for a breech so he could finish his ritual before Erlach.

“Nero! Kyrie is over there! Go kick his ass, kid!” You screamed while fighting so Erlach couldn’t drip your blood into the bowl. Yes, he needed more than a few drops from the gashes from his claws – but he could make them bigger once you were in a decent position. And you didn’t want to give him that.

“Kyrie! I’m coming for you!” And finally, after his aquamarine eyes found Kyrie’s plea for help, Nero did let go of Trish with ease – and the she-devil didn’t even try to hold him back. With just a smile on her face, the woman looked back at Lady and they knew it was time to intervene now that both of you were located and they wouldn’t risk any of your lives.

Amidst all that, with Dante literally burning his way towards you while being held back by three demons, a few invisible cuts made them fall apart and gush blood all over the floor. Vergil entered the cathedral, while carrying an old book you saw at Erlach’s office earlier that night – the book with all the ancient, and most forbidden, devilish incantations.

“Go on, Dante. I’ll take it from here.” Vergil barely looked at the demons he was fighting with: holding the book with one hand and being assisted by summoned swords, he only needed a few well placed judgement cuts to get rid of all those nuisances.

Dante didn’t even think twice after hearing his brother’s words. Marching down the aisle, he approached you and Erlach like a death omen – his demonic form in his ultimate Devil Trigger was enough to inspire respect even in the upper echelon of Hell.

And you had to say, you were proud of that.

“Let y/n go, Erlach.” As Dante commanded, you couldn’t fail to notice his voice was slightly… Different. The more he approached, the more his voice sounded less distorted and more human. “Ya know, for a demon with such a pretentious plan, you’d think you’d put up more of a difficult fight.” And when Dante stopped right in front of the altar between you both, he was completely human – looking at you with the sky blue eyes you loved so much. “I’m barely breakin’ a sweat.”

If Erlach’s claws weren’t deep into your skin, you would’ve locked your arms around his neck already, taking in his scent and calming down your heart. Yes, Dante would be smelling of gunpowder, blood and sweat, but that was still his scent. It was enough to make you feel secure again.

“Indeed. I underestimated you.” Erlach’s claws dug out of your skin, making you retreat quickly. You managed to see a little commotion where Kyrie and Nero were before, but with everything that was happening, you couldn’t quite make the moment where Orcus was nowhere to be seen – all you could be sure was that Kyrie was safe, back into Nero’s arms. And that was enough. “It seems like the blood of Sparda still thrives to this day.”

“Yeah, yeah, daddy’s blood and all that…” Dante rolled his eyes, shooting near Erlach’s feet. The demon jumped back, farther away from you – and that made you smile. “Spit it out, spook. How did you find out ‘bout the ritual? Where did ya get that book?”

“Apparently you never heard of a library. On that aspect, I win, my creature.” Erlach still had that weird admiration in his eyes for you, making you wince. You never gave him a single reason to like you. Demons had to be masochist creatures.

“Oh, I heard about those alright. It just so happens my brother here has spent a very long vacation time in Hell and lemme tell ya…” With those words, Dante finally took Erlach by his neck, leaning the demon over the sacrificial bowl and touching the blade of Rebellion on his neck. Dante usually didn’t get that feral… But Erlach had tried him a little bit too much that night. “He doesn’t have very nice words about you and your little friends. Those rituals aren’t well known in detail. Something gave you that book. Who?”

It wasn’t a side of Dante you liked to see, but, when dealing with those kinds of demons, it was a necessary one. Erlach, as far as you could tell, wasn’t just your dumb daily demon – he was in the upper echelon. And said echelon only became worse the higher the rank.

“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” Erlach laughed even if the sword already started to nick some blood out of his thick demonic skin. “You will have to let me go to get your answer. If you don’t, no deal.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. Erlach was the deal kind of demon. And it was always a slippery slope with those silver tongue devils.

Dante knew that as well. His heart screamed at him to kill Erlach and let his blood run over the floor of the cathedral – to take you home safely and let you know that threat would never loom over you again.

But they needed answers. Only very high rank demons would have access to that kind of book – to those kinds of rituals. Demons like Sparda… Like Mundus. And that was something none of them wanted as a threat. The single thought of the possibility of Mundus being alive made him shiver and his blood boil. His house burned in his childhood, his family slaughtered like animals, his past stained in blood and sulfur. He didn’t want that to happen again. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to anyone in the crew, not to his nephew, not to his brother… Not to you.

Dante let Erlach go. The demon cracked his neck, gaining his posture once again. You stood by Dante’s side, ready to suplex Erlach into oblivion if he tried anything funny.

“The two of you already have what you need to know the answer.” Erlach pointed at the book in Vergil’s hands, moving his gaze back to you soon after. “I will have you as mine, y/n. You have my word, sweet creature.”

Before you could do anything in response, Erlach set himself ablaze in flames that kept burning for a few seconds while he disappeared back to where he came from – probably Hell, if you had to guess.

“Eh. We should’ve known he would leave without giving us a decent answer.” You sighed, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that night, knowing all demons were dead and you were around safe people again.

“And even shamelessly flirtin’ with ya, what’s up with that…?”

“No idea, red devil. I did my best for him to hate me; apparently it backfired tremendously.”

You finally turned to look at each other. Both of you looked tired, completely out of energy – you, from your human body; Dante from the toll all that fiery explosion of anger and demonic heritage could take on him. His eyes, though… Those sky blue eyes, looked at you with the human kindness you always longed for – with the admiration and fire of a lover, but the gentleness of a soul who was not only your mate, but your home.

You felt safe again. All that insecurity, that fear, that horror of being alone and having to fight on your own – to survive on your own – it washed away in that infinite blue sky. He was your home, and you were safe. Nothing bad would ever happen to you, for Dante was there to catch you and hold you in his arms until you felt you could walk with certainty again.

“I heard you, pretty eyes…” Dante murmured, taking a strand of hair out of your dirty face, watching with amusement as you furrowed your brows. He took one of his hands over his heart, eyes looking into yours. “I heard you here.”

A gradual smile lit up your face as you understood what he had said. That pull, that thing you did, of closing your eyes and praying he would find you… It worked. Of course it worked. And you couldn’t be happier, with all that pouring like a golden fountain from your heart, making your eyes laminate with a few tears and threaten to overflow.

“I’m glad you did, cowboy.” You approached him, cradling his face with your hands and leaning him down so his forehead could touch yours. “I’m glad you did. I prayed so loud for you.”

With that, you took his hand to touch your heart, in the hopes he would once again listen – but this time hear the golden tunes it sang along the overflow. The frills of the ridiculous attire didn’t allow him to find your beat, though.

“Well, I told ya I’d get rid of that, right?” Dante sighed, staring down at that horrid attire – although he would argue you could never look bad. Even with that thing on. “Ei! All of ya, look away! I’m puttin’ y/n out of their misery!”

“What…?”

Before you could finish asking, though, Dante masterfully moved Rebellion around you – while everyone turned away or closed their eyes. Lady and Trish, though, just kept staring at that goof of a man you called your lover. Within a few seconds, those terrifying wedding clothes tore apart, pooling around your feet on the floor while you just stared back at your red devil – the chilly air of the night all around your bare skin.

“That was hot.” You had to say it while Dante quickly checked you out like the masterpiece he always thought you were.

“Not as hot as you, babe.” With a wink, Dante took off his red coat, wrapping it around you and making you warm again.

You loved wearing Dante’s coat. It was definitely too big for you, but it was always warm – that night, you could almost say it seemed like it was enveloped in flames. But it had his scent all over it and it fit like a huge cape you could almost drag on the ground. You couldn’t have asked for a better attire for that evening.

“Hey.” As you called for his attention, those blue eyes rested on you again, little by little settling all that restlessness that whole ordeal had set in your soul. And, since words weren’t enough, you once again cradled his face with your hands, this time placing a well-deserved kiss on your lover’s lips.

Dante giggled between your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to lift you off the floor – making it easier for you to kiss him unapologetically. You never saw yourself as a damsel in distress, and you would have killed every demon in that room with a dagger and your teeth if it was necessary, but it wasn’t. And that was so new: you could always count on Dante to be there for you, to protect you and to be a place for you to fall whenever you lost your balance.

Your heart stopped screaming and Dante’s soul found peace again.

*

“Ah, I see Nero stole Dante’s idea.”

As you saw Kyrie leaving the van’s bathroom wearing nothing but Nero’s coat, she smiled happily back at you while showing it off as soon as you pointed that out. You were sitting in the van, still in the red coat – Dante would know only later that decision would cost him his sanity while trying to get his coat back from you. A few chases and him gripping you tight to get his coat back was in store for the rest of that night.

“It was a very good idea.” Kyrie had a mischievous smile on her lips, blushing a little bit while grabbing the collar of Nero’s coat and taking in the scent. “It smells like him. It feels like he’s always around.”

“I know what you mean.” You smiled proudly as an answer, barely noticing Nico staring at both of you while Lady and Trish giggled.

“Ya know what she means…? That coat is nasty!” Nico pointed at the blue coat enveloping the crew’s little angel, making you laugh a little bit more. “And yours?! If Nero’s coat is bad, Dante’s even worse! Looks like he just blasted from the insides of a frog demon or somethin’! And you say it has his scent?!” The gunsmith couldn’t be more revolted at yours and Kyrie’s antics.

“That’s Dante’s scent for ya...” You sighed, leaning back on the van’s seat – something quite red devilish like. “Gunpowder, demon’s blood and sweat. When he’s clean, though, it’s more of a woody and musky with a hint of pizza kind of scent. Sometimes strawberries.”

“Apparently, love doesn’t make us only blind, it makes our sense of smell completely absent.” Trish strutted her way towards the seat she always took in the van, across from you, having a complacent smile on her devil lips.

“It makes us more tolerant.” Kyrie sat by your side, completely happy to be wearing Nero’s clothes and safe and sound with the crew again. “That is a thing most people need to learn more about.”

“As always, angel Kyrie is right.” Lady sighed, taking her spot inside the van – after lightly elbowing Nico just to tease the gunsmith. “Just like we tolerate the smell of your cigarettes.”

“Hey, at least I’m not turning into a fuming creature blasting demon viscera everywhere!” Nico pointed at Lady with her cigarette between her fingers, making all of you laugh. “Must take days to get those things off your hair!”

“Sometimes, it takes even weeks!” Dante’s voice added from outside of the van, entering soon after to take his seat right by your side. To say Dante would be hovering around you for months, overly protecting you over anything and everything, was a very mild way to describe his behavior after that evening.

“Ya know, once I found a piece of liver hidden right behind my ear…?” Nero approached Nico as she just glared at him with pure disgust. “Took me days to find it.”

“You’re nasty, demon boy.” Nico lightly shoved Nero out of the way, dismissing all that conversation to go back to the stirring wheel. Nero laughed back, making his way to Kyrie and sitting by her side, cradling her with one of his arms while she rested her head on his chest.

“We couldn’t find more on the origin of their knowledge…” Vergil was the last one to board, closing the van’s door behind him. As soon as he did, Nico started driving back home – and he showed you a few things he had in his hands. “But we did find your gear. I will keep it in a safe place until we get back to the shop.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Verge!” You had genuine relief in your voice, watching as he carefully placed your sword next to him. “I thought I’d never see those things again. Thanks for finding them.”

As always, Vergil didn’t answer, just bowed his head as the perfect gentleman he was. Soon, Dante’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Huh, so much thankfulness for Vergil, while I was the one who saved your ass from that demon lord. I’m feeling a little ignored.” Of course, you knew Dante was only joking – never in all your time together you picked up any sign of jealousy he could have of you and Vergil. Dante was very secure about your relationship, knowing quite well where your heart rested – he would be insecure, sometimes, when it came to other humans.

“Oh, c’mon. How can I not be thankful when it’s my gear we’re talking about?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him back – which only made Dante smile. “Now being a little more serious, it was rough being stripped of everything. Even with that hideous frilly attire, I felt completely naked. There’s no way for me to defend myself without all my stuff; I don’t have demonic blood running through my veins to go into a rampage and kill every single living thing in front of me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I got that goin’ for me.” Dante brought you even closer, tightening his half hug around you.

“Hmmm…” You took some time to take in his scent, this time directly from his neck, right in front of you. Yes, all those things you mentioned before, but you could always find the woody and musky Dante scent underneath all of that. And maybe it was that which made you feel so comfortable and secure. “I was scared. I was running out of options when you showed up.”

“Shhh, don’cha think ‘bout that, pretty eyes.” Whenever you voiced how uncomfortable you were with something, Dante immediately started caressing you just to at least make you feel physically comfortable again. And you had to say, it always worked.

“I know, I know… It’s just… I know I can always count on you to appear at the direst of moments, no matter where I am.” With those words, you placed one of your hands above his heart, making those sky blue eyes look back into yours. “I know you can hear me call, no matter what.”

“It’s part of the demon thing, babe.” Even though he was happy with that, Dante had a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe… But demons don’t show up to save desperate souls who are praying for them when all other options have failed.” You brushed aside some strands of dirty hair that insisted on covering those beautiful eyes – now looking at you with curiosity and admiration. “Do you know who do?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Angels do.” Your answer was but a murmur, even quieter than the engines of the van. “You are my very own guardian angel, Dante.”

Lady once said that, somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one – but you would dare to add that devils did cry when they were loved back.

Your red devil was living proof of that on that Halloween night.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #dante x reader #dante imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc dante #dante sparda #devil may halloween #the ripping the dress apart scene #I'm SUCH a fan of Zorro #and Antonio Banderas does that with Catherine Zeta Jones in the 1st movie #BOOM one of my fave things right there when I saw it for the first time #Dante was raised on Zorro and I'll die on this hill #alsoooo couldn't resist making Erlach a character that may or may not appear again #something about having a demon lord fall in love with Dante/Vergil's s/o sounds so funny to me #I have to make that a recurrent theme #and the 'I'd love you even if you were a rock with googly eyes' is indeed a reference to Everything Everywhere All At Once #just recently watched with my mom and was devastated and happy at the same time #some people we would love even in the rock dimension #I hope you guys like it!! even if it took forever to post!! T-T

[fanficriter]

can u do kaidou shun dating hcs!?!?!?

UM YES I LOVE HIM????

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Dating Kaidou Shun

Warnings - None

Characters - Kaidou Shun

Gender neutral reader

Notes - Sorry this is a bit short, I’m a bit sick atm

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- If you dress in Emo/Gothic clothes, expect him to fall for you like 10 times faster

- When he finally asked you out, he slide you one of those notes with the little yes or no checkboxes down the bottom

- He is definitely scared if the dark, he won’t admit it

- “The Jet Black Wings is scared of nothing! C-could you turn the light back on though?”

- He loves it when you play along with his little fantasies, it makes him feel loved

- LOVES physical affection!! But he does get very shy, especially when it’s in public

- Very shy when it comes to kisses. He will give you a peck on the lips and run away blushing

- If you surprise him with a kiss, he kinda just stands there for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened

- He is a clingy little shit tbh

- Loves cuddling with you sm

- He also love quality time, he’s inviting you everywhere everyday at all times

- Study sessions together always 🙏🙏

- If his mum likes you, expect home cooked meals every time you come over

- Literally is a shaking, nervous ball when meeting your parents

- “I promise to take care of them! I-indubitably!!”

- Your parents love him

- I feel like he really good with kids, so if you have younger siblings, they absolutely adore him

- Every time he comes over they will run up and hug him

- You feel like they love him more than you atp

- Has a huge hero complex, so he will protect you from all the bullies! But your usually the one whose protecting him…

- When his classmates make fun of him for talking about Dark Reunion, your always there to comfort him

- He doesn’t know how to swim, so you teach him. He tries to act tough though the whole thing

- “If I released my full power in the water… i’d course a tsunam- Y/N HELP IM DROWNING”

- For your birthday he always has a homemade present and a 10 page essay for a card

- He was definitely a night core kid

- Angel with a shotgun is HIS JAM (me to)

- He uses emoticon while texting

- “Hey angel! ^_^ Do u want to go get ramen with me tmrw? o(｀ω´ )o”

- Can also speak irl with them??? He just does it and no one says anything about it

- Your name is his phone is definitely something like ‘My Fallen angel’ or ‘My Queen/King of Darkness’

- Is oddly good at singing?

- Every time he’s in the shower you hear him having his own little concerts

- He’s insanely talented at eyeliner

- Will sit in your lap and do yours if you let him

- MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES ARE A MUST!!!

- This could very from being bacon and eggs, to being undead lovers, he doesn’t care! As long as he gets to look cute with you, he’s up for anything!

- He’s always talking about you to his friends

- “Me and Y/n went to the movie theatre yesterday!!”

- “Check you this cool ring Y/n got for me!

- “Did you see Y/n’s outfit today?”

- Your his first real partner, and he loves you a lot. You guys are always looking after each other!

- Also he’s a twilight fanboy so you have a twilight wedding 🙏🙏

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I love Kaidou Shun goodnight tumblr (´-ω-`)

#the disastrous life of saiki k. #fanfic writing #tumblr #ao3 #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disasterous life of saiki k #shun kaidou #kaidou shun x reader #kaidou shun #kaidou x reader #k #saiki k #kusuo saiki #fandom #fanfic #writers on tumblr #tumblr fanfic

[emmylous-world]

TF141 and their wedding

AN: I was bored and don’t have a laptop so I’ll feed you guys this, what I think their weddings would be like, lemme know if I should do something else, like engagement rings and wedding bands, types of houses etc. enjoy heheh

TF141 x f!reader

TW: mentions of sex,

Ghost💀

He’s gonna be very generic, basic and plain. It would be in the fall, beginning of October. He’s not much of the designer so he’ll definitely let you do the picking and choosing, happy with whatever. But it’s gonna be on the ghost theme, everything black and red with roses and skull’s. it’s not gothic or grungey, just black, red and a little white in there. His suit is black with a red tie. It’s probably held on a field in the country in England, idk won’t go into detail. Would only focus on you the whole night, he touches you more and gives you more kisses then normal. Will not stop touching, always has a hand on you, I mean it’s his wedding day. But doesn’t talk much, just watches you. Got teary eyes at Prices speech. When his tired of everyone, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the cabin and consummate the wedding💀😏

Soap 🧼

Somewhat of Scottish wedding, definitely wears a kilt and the Mactavish brooch, thistle everywhere, the bouquet, cake, table decorations. It also be in august. Also I’m not sure if he would do a handfast first, but the wedding would definitely held in a castle in the highlands, and is sworn under God to be with you till the end of time. He cries when you walk down the aisle, can’t take his eyes off you, But after the wedding, the reception part, expect him to get pissed drunk. Plays some wedding games definitely, looses every time, cry’s at the speeches, every single one, he’s drunk so it’s a given. Eventually gets horny, takes you away to show you how much he really loves you😌

Gaz ☕️

Gaz would be basic like Ghost, it’s gonna be in the summer, in a tent. Pastel colours, and lots of eucalyptus. His suit would either be black or blue, I don’t know much about Gaz sorry, so I don’t know exactly what he would be like but would get drunk with soap and you, definitely would smoke a blunt later, get high and have the bestest sex ever. 😩🥵

Price🥃

This is literally based off of what I want for my wedding, bc I wanna marry this man’s and Ik it’s very much him, ferns and outdoorsy vibes, it’s when the daisy are in bloom (June, I think) or spring I can’t decide. It’s on he’s dad’s property, surrounded by forest. He’s an old man, so he’ll keep it traditional, your wedding band was his mother’s. his suit is a 3 piece navy blue tweed. Hands never leave you, and always looking at you with pure adoration also can’t stop kissing you. When the sunsets, he takes you to the horses on the property and y’all ride over to the hunting cabin in the woods, and he worships you all night. 🤭😏

#captain john price #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #Gaz #soap #ghost #cod mw2 #cod #x reader #simon ghost riley x you #captain john price x you #John soap mactavish x you #kyle gaz garrick x you #ghost x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #cod imagine #tf141 #task force 141 #cod fic #call of duty #price is my husband