Yes, I’m doing this again. Things have been so, so crazy lately, and I’ve seen a lot of hate and generally awful stuff. I want everyone to feel at least a little loved and appreciated, so here goes nothing.
If you see his post (you don’t need to be tagged by anyone) reblog it and tag (at the very least) five people, so they know how amazing they are! We need to SPREAD THE POSITIVITY! So tag every Tumblr you enjoy (it doesn’t metter if they’ve already been tagged) because we all need to give a little more appreciation for the little things and the special people.
Some of you I’ve never interacted with, some of you are literally my best friends. Others I’ve sent in a few asks, and sometimes I become an anonymous friend. But I love and appreciate each and every single one of you and I want you to know it.
@mymyfangirlsidedontlie @bee-suit-twink @wonderful-spooky-snek @guttural-goth @bluishberrys @night-slash-nike @mixingpumpkins @im-extremely-scottish are a few of the top of my head
From a V-centered blog, to “all DMC bois in many configurations”-bunch of texts, Vergil’s Daughter has become a place for many. So to help you navigate through my stuff, I prepared this short list:
V x Reader
“The Sun shines above Red Grave City” vol. 1 (NSFW)
“The Sun shines above Red Grave City” vol. 2 (NSFW)
“Spider whispers” vol. 1 (NSFW)
“Forget me not” (SFW)
“A letter” (slightly NSFW)
“When it all ends” (SFW)
Nero x V x Reader
“I want both of you” (NSFW)
Nero x Nico x V x Reader
“Breakfest you don’t deserve” (NSFW, drug/alcohol mention)
🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼
It is nice to know that you think so, anon. Especially now, when i do not put makeup or anything :-D
Since I do not write much, I want to show you my other hobby. I draw. Or rather - I am in a pursuit of many masters I found here. Dont judge me, I know I have so much to learn. But it so somehow pleases me.
Drawing is another way of describing all things inside my head, and even thou I use photos as a reference, I always add something from me.
Oh yes. There is V as well but I wont show you any more of DMC bois.
I walk on these streets filled with debris, sleep in houses in which only ghosts reside.
You are not there. I am not looking for you.
I breathe the cold, metallic air. There is no rot nor blood in it anymore, only the heavenly emptiness.
You are not there. Your taste remains on my tongue.
Soft are the corpses that turn to dust under my feet. Humans should not return to this district.
You are not there. You touched my arm and your warmth is still there.
The entropy of this place is a new light to the ugly flower that blooms on the desolated park. I do not care what will become of this place. Since you are not there anymore I feel that nothing on this planet would make the wound bleed anymore.
To bleed once more would mean for me to seek you. Somewhere in this cursed city.
You must know that my skin is very fragile. Every time someone touches me, a spark of an unpleasant impulse runs across my skin. This hypersensitivity has nothing to do with any known human illness though. But it sucks and makes my miserable life even more obnoxious.
And I have grown tired of explaining this to every stranger. This time it is a nice-looking middle aged guy, whom I met near the church. The reason we started to explore together is simple – we just went in the same direction, he did not look like a demon, me even less so, so neither of us suspected the other of anything off. We were so focused that we did not even exchange the names. Everything was obvious. I am a person who does not ask many questions, neither is he.
Several times I caught his glance, but there was really nothing more than a neutral observation. His eyes were cold blue, big, white – or grey? – hair thoroughly brushed away from his face. He looked like one of the those men you can see at a military parade. They are not from there and really want to be elsewhere, but that "elsewhere" isn't a nice place. It is not a place for small girls like me – it is what he would say if I ask him where he came from.
I really tried to have a closer look at his long katana, but I had a feeling he would get angry if I touched it.
There were only a few demons in the main nave of the abandoned church, but I was expecting worse underground. I had straight orders to investigate the source of the strange demonic energy. And every step that lead me to the stairs made my skin more and more irritated. I needed to take off my coat to let my poor, bare arms rest.
He would have to be a complete weirdo not to wonder at least about their state. But I could not blame him, as the skin I uncovered really looked bad. The scars were almost red, not white as usual. They were forming patterns as though dozens of small rivers were flowing just under my skin. I cautiously touched them and then hissed.
"Is this some kind of illness?" he asked, no emotion in his voice, just curiosity. "Are you allergic to demonic energy maybe?"
I sighed and shake my head. "No, it is a side effect of a ritual my order put me through. Nothing contagious. It... hurts sometimes, when I am close to source. But not always. Just, you know. Scars."
"Scars" - he said and nodded. I may have seen the spark of recognition in his eyes. But it could be just the light.
The light went darker when we finished cleansing the place. It was hard, because no demons were protecting the ritual circle, worse, a spell had been cast upon the entire room and it cost us a lot of effort to take it down. But we managed, and my magical experience helped a lot. I did not even have to unsheathe my blades, as his mighty katana was doing the main job of cutting the hard magical threads. I watched him with a growing interest, especially when he took off his own coat and I had the opportunity to rate his arms. I like men's arms.
When all was cleansed we were both damn exhausted. We left the church and headed to the nearest house, where we found an undamaged apartment. I don't know why he just agreed to go there with me. We barely shared few words, but somehow I started to trust him.
At this moment I need to explain myself before you. I am not a slag neither am I a bigot. The reason I came closer to this man lies somewhere in my past and filled my future with way too many unexpected events. I do not own my body wholly. It is a part of a ritual, it is a tool. Easy to restore, easy to bend. And this man seemed curious.
This is why I decided to offer him some time with me.
And here we are now.
He looks tense, stiff and uptight, when he sits on the couch with a silent moan.
I leave my blades and coat on the nearest chair and without any word stand in front of him. He looks at me with a question in his eyes.
“I may have some idea how to release the tension” I say, laying hands on his arms and leaning to reach his ear.
“I am old enough to be your father, girl” - he snorts, but drags me closer. I follow him and sit astray on his tights. His hands, very cold and soft, poke under the rim of my shirt. He observes my face, knowing that I don’t like the touch. That it hurts. I close my eyes, inhale and slowly nod.
He touches me only with the tips of his fingers. They move like snakes, meander along the scars on the back, then go on to the front, stopping at ribs. I feel them and the impulses remain, but this time it is not unpleasant. There is still a little pain, but there is also... a warmth? I concentrate on their traces and every change of position I welcome with a silent sigh.
“Keep on doing that” - I ask with a hoarse, not opening my eyes. “Don’t stop, do...” - I stop when his mouth covers mine. His kiss becomes deeper, more intrusive, when his tongue tries to pry my lips open. I let him in, tilting my head to give him access inside.
His hands move under my bralette, roll it up and embrace my breasts. There are no scars on them, but the nipples almost hurt when he squeezes them between his thumbs and index fingers. I moan into his mouth, he moans back, not breaking the kiss. One his hand clasps my waist and presses me closer to him. But he needs not to be afraid, I will not escape.
When I realize that I feel his arousal so close to my crotch, it almost blows my mind. I hardly ever feel the “crimson curtain” falling on me during the battle, but this time it just hits me. I break the kiss and unbutton his shirt, kissing every inch of just uncovered skin.
“Please, fuck me now” - I say, taking of my shirt and bra. I want him to see me naked, with all my history written on my skin. I straighten my upper body and press his hands to my breasts.
“I need you inside me” - I buck my hips with impatience. He hisses and quickly lifts me and dumps me on the couch. The buckle of the belt hits the ground when he removes my trousers along with the panties. I try to reach his belt too, but he pins me down, holding my hands tightly above my head. His blue piercing eyes look at me the way a snake looks at his prey.
“Be careful what you wish for, little one” - he whispers and pushes his hand between my tights. But there is no gentle stroking or studying the grounds. His finger just slides inside me and quickly pulls out, pressing the clit. I tilt my head and cry from rapid intrusion. I try to escape from under him and close my legs, but he pries them apart with his knee and press his hips to his hand, still laying on my folds.
“You are so welcoming wet” - he says and strokes me again and again, harder every time, covering his hand and my tights with my fluid. His strong, long fingers tighten on my wrists, which causes the pain that entwines with pleasure. I cannot and I wish not to stop. I want him to ravish me like an animal.
“Oh... gods...” - I try to withhold my moans and close my mouth, but when he slides his finger deep and curls it, my hips start to move on their own. “Take me, take me, take me...” - I repeat with every push. I inhale with an open mouth, fast and loud.
“I will gladly...” - he speaks and finally frees my hands, supporting himself on the elbow and leaning his head to suck my nipple, which makes me writhe. His lips are still so hot and wet from our kiss. I hear him unbuckle his belt with the other hand and the lack of his touch almost hurts, so I wrap my legs around him and gyrate my hips to meet his. He laughs and holds my hips in a place, then licks my other nipple. I growl and try to drag him higher on me, with no success. I lower my head and meet his smirk while he puts out his tongue to tease my sensitive body. I shake from the tension.
“Why rush?” - he murmurs and lowers himself a little, just enough to touch my entrance with the tip of his cock. I moan and move quickly to impale myself, but he escapes again. He leans to my ear and whispers : “Oh, don’t worry, I will ride you alright, till you forget how to speak”.
He rises and sits, holding my tights on both sides of his body. Have I not been so excited, I could cherish his abdomen, covered with scars almost the same way mine is. But he gives me no time to take a closer look. He lifts me and unbelievably slowly pushes inside.
“Fuuuuck...” - I grab the backrest of the couch and lean my head back, when he pulls back and pushes again, this time stronger. My tights shake as he moves them higher, to allow himself to go further inside. From this angle he can easily see how he enters me, my body lays before him, uncovered and outstretched, exposed breasts jiggling from thrusts that quickly become fast and hard, hair stuck to the wet neck and arms, muscles on the abdomen clamped. I see his intense look, partly opened lips and cock sliding easily inside. He is so focused on the ride, that it almost amuses me.
"You are... so soft and... tight" - he says, still in this silent voice, breaking the sentence with a gasp. I thank him for this position, that he does not lay on me. Our skin, rubbing on each other, would cause me more pain that pleasure. Now I see the scars illuminating, like a rivers full of light flowing under my skin, around the breasts and on my belly...
Wait. Why do they illuminate? My half-conscious brain tries to understand the revelation, but it fails, as he touches my clit and begins to press it with every thrust. I whine, I crave for the touch, for this is the only way I ever bring myself to the orgasm.
"Yes... like that" - as I say it, the bright light appears in his eyes, but this does not frighten me. In fact, I find it interesting, besides... somehow all his body and movement changed.
"Hold still, girl" - he growls with different voice – lower, vibrating, non-human. With growing fascination I see his skin starting to cover with blue scales, his face transforming into a feral mask of wild lust and the...
"Ohh my! Oh!" - the fucking demon's cock moves like snake, making a wave every time he enters me, hitting the spot. All my body cringes from the unexpected shot of pleasure, so he grabs me stronger, as I feel his claws dipping in my skin and the cold scales rubbing against my tights. He is bigger and stronger and more brutal. So demonic yet so strangely angelic.
I am the quarry he is feeding on and the calyx he needs to fill. With every second he enters me I am more sure I will need him in the future. And every time we fuck would bond us stronger.
"More, more!" - I am on the very edge. I rise head and nibble on my lips, feeling the incoming orgasm that makes me clench around him. But he does not fasten the moves, quite the opposite, he stops and only his cock bestirs inside me.
"Beg me" - he says.
"Damn you, demon" - I gasp, as he pulls only a little, teasing with me. He chuckles and immobilizes me when I try to press forward hips. I gather all my strength. "You like it as much... as I do" - my voice shivers, and so does all my body. "So do not... fucking... tease with me, you poor little demon" - I feel the scars scorching when he swipes out his fingers on my belly. He observes my reaction with interest.
"You will never beg for nothing" - he does not ask. He takes a note. "This I like".
And he abruptly begins to ride me like crazy, quickly leading me to the strong peak that almost makes me deaf from my own screams. And not stopping on that, not letting me to take a breath, he continues taking me, until finally he explodes with a silent howl.
So...
It could have been an interesting start of a deep relationship. But then comes the moment when we switch the names and it ruins everything. Simple, right?
He says his name is Vergil. I laugh and shake my head, which clearly displeasures him.
"Forgive me, but the others from my order would react more... abruptly. This name means a lot. Every single scar on my body was carved in the name of the mighty Vergil, the Son of Sparda."
His face is full of dismay, but I do not notice it then, I am too exhausted. I watch him slowly button his vest.
"I honestly do not believe he even existed. It is annoying enough to carry his name in mine..."
He reaches for his coat, but then stops.
“What are they calling you?! Tell me!”
So I tell him.
The man makes a frightened look. He holds his breath and backs away from me, as though I told him I suffer from a high infectious disease. He shakes his head and just walks away. I follow his silhouette with a lazy sight and start to slowly dress myself.
Suddenly I lack the strength to call him. Suddenly I feel my life going back to an old trace, where I keep forgetting all that does not matter. Do I have to summon the familiar cloud that cleans my mind from every details, from the smallest, like the wrinkles near his eyes, to the way he sighs? Does HE matter at all?
I just was honest with him. I, like all my sisters, have no name. But you can call me Vergil’s Daughter.
Freeze! You're under arrest for being so nice and cute. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 🖤💙💜💚🧡♥️
Freeze! You're under arrest for being so nice and cute. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 😍😍😍❤❤❤
Thank you ♥️ you did not forget about me even though I stay silent for a long time. I am sooo unproductive and powerless that if some demon with mighty sword appear, I would jump on him without hesitation. Gimme energy, gimme strength.
this is the offical ‘i care’ symbol
this is how it works:
basically you reblog this and your followers know that you care and that they can message you about anything anon or not and you will reply back or at least look at there message. if you care about your followers please reblog
Warnings: NSFW. Not DMC related, just and elf and a witch meeting in the forest, yay!
I will tell you a story about my biggest failure, that cost me a lot but turned out to be a chance for... well, you will see. Allow me to keep the secret to the very end of my story.
First of all, I am a lazy witch. And that means I use shortcuts in my workshop. When I discovered ancient ruins not too far away from my city, where apparently old, long forgotten rituals took place, I could not resist. That was a perfect place for my latest experiment. The topic was: how to bind a living creature to a certain place. From what I have read, the ruins were once a place of a cult. So there must have been lots of stored energy that I could use in them.
I found the best spot easily. The surface of the old stones was uneven, so chalk barely covered it. Even though I cleared the ancient floor from all the weeds and debris, I needed to check the drawings three times and cast a non-invasive spell and see if the lines shine. After that I gathered all my belongings and wandered off.
Now the only thing I needed was a living creature.
The main story starts at evening. It lasts almost all the night and ends at dawn.
And that dawn... The sun slowly warmed my skin, which I welcomed with a relief. When the energy left my body, I started to shake, and even his arms could not stop the shivering. I wished I could cover myself with clothes, but he wouldn’t allow me. He insisted that I stayed with him till when the first rays of day touched the ruins.
It was a long time since someone fuck me so merciless. It was a long time since I welcomed someone with my open arms and legs and gave full access.
But my mind wanders, I should keep the track of the story, right?
So, there I was, setting a trap for a living creature. An elk would suffice, but it was not an animal that was lured by my spell. From my hiding place (I can sit still for a long time, meditating) I saw a humanoid. Slender, with colorful feathers in his short black hair, moving stealthily, but I still saw him. A wood elf.
Like all his kin, he was not too tall and well-built. His brown clothes blended well with the trees. He carried a bow, but arrows remained in the quiver, so I hoped he did not feel the trap.
I was soon to find out that there was no danger at all indeed, well, for sure not from my side.
His blue slant eyes, filled with passion and bright from magic, will hunt me down in my dreams to the end of my life. Although our first meeting was completely filled with mind blowing crash of two different worlds, and he was the one that lead this ride, I will now have to be the hunter for the next few months. This silly trap I tried to lure him into backfired but that did not teach me anything, obviously. I need his knowledge... and his body. I need to feel again how he presses me against the wall and suppresses my moans with kisses. I want to hear him speaking my name with this funny sidhe accent.
Ohh, my poor, poor dhoine soul. How we need the ancient races, how we crave for the ones that touched the eternity. I can focus on my studies, but no. I reach for something that is forbidden to the mortal ones. Who can blame me?
The memories of him taking me slowly on the cold stone will keep me awake during long winter evenings. Sometimes I slide my hands under my blouse and touch my breasts the way he was touching them – at the beginning gentle, circling around the nipples with the tip of the fingers, and then slightly pressing them with a thumb. And when he fastened the thrusts, he was squeezing one breast with one hand, so hard it almost hurt. All his moves were on the thin boarder between the pain and pleasure.
But I am spoiling the story again, am I not? I am getting horny just from thinking about it. I have a plan, you know, that next time I shall tie him up and ride like crazy, that I need to show him who the boss is this time.
Because back then I was completely under his control. I think the reason is that I was surprised that my trap did not work.
So he was lured. He looked around the ruins. Touched the stones, tracing the old carvings with his fingers. I waited for him to walk into the circle I drew, but before that happened, he spoke.
“You can stop hiding from me now. I can sense you.”
I knew the spell was already active, that the energy flew in circuits. He asked me to come closer. And so I did. I thought that it would be interesting to watch the process from close-up. The moment I myself overstepped the circle it stunned me. I understood that the magic I sensed was not mine at all.
It was old, wild and completely out of my control. I felt it entangling around my legs and arms, unbending the stress that had held my body under pressure. It moved something in my belly, what made me keep my legs close. The feeling completely overwhelmed me and I almost fainted – but someone’s arm kept me from falling to the ground.
“What have you done, little witch? Do you know what ancient magic have taedh woken up?”
I suddenly found myself unable to breath and felt hazy. I tried to unbutton my shirt just to find out it was already undone and something was beginning to tickle my bare breasts. I looked down and saw his hand lazily stroking it. When did he manage to come that close? – I thought, watching his parted lips just a few inches away from my face. Without hesitation I leaned and kissed him.
The kiss was long and deep, as though we had been dying from hunger and only then we could truly feed. He growled like an wild animal and tipped his head so that he could deepen the kiss. We did not brake it even when he lifted me and set me down on the stone. I supported myself on elbows and let him roll up my skirt and spread my legs.
He went in me quickly, which made our lips cleave. I rolled my head back and made a sound which was somewhere between a sob and a whine. He was impatient, his eyes blurred and almost unconscious, hands clamped on my tights – there was no asking nor gradual fastening the rhythm. The fucking ritual held us strong, magic flowed in our veins and made our muscles clench and release in an unbelievably fast tempo. And lead to a fast finish.
But it was not the end.
The second time was slower. He undressed me and then himself completely and we spend some time learning the maps of our bodies. Although we could barely see each other in the darkness, I know I would be able to recognize him anytime. I sucked the lobe of his pointed ears, which made him writhe. He tried to escape my lips and told me to not do it again, which I did not obey, of course. That seemed to anger him.
Oh, how I wanted him to punish me. He recognized the deceitful smile and made a sudden move, flipping me around and pinning me to the stone floor. I turned my head to meet his gaze. Did my eyes blister the same way his did? If so, there was still a lot of magic in the air. The ritual, the demon or thirsty deity, or whatever I summoned here by mistake, did not have enough.
