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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 20 days ago

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NERO SPARDA SMUTTY HEADCANONS

🌷 pairing(s): nero x fem!reader 🌷 warnings/tags: nsfw, somnophilia, eating out (fem!genitalia), panty sniffer, masturbation, bondage, wax play, breeding, size kink, power play 🌷 author's note: misc nsfw hcs bc im ovulating

oh boy here we go

you've been wearing a low cut top around devil may cry the whole day, and he definitely noticed.

when you're talking, he'll let his eyes flit to your cleavage and back up to your eyes. he does it specifically so you'll notice

he's licking lips okay he's giving you all the signals GO GO GO GO!!

to dante and vergil though, he just seems super pissed off. his jaw is clenched and whenever the boys try and talk to him, he snaps at them more than usual.

when dante and vergil leave the building to go on a mission, he suddenly grabs you an holds you against the nearest wall

his left hand sneaked its way slightly under your shirt, rubbing small circles. his right hand is over your head, pinning you against the wall

"You trying t'get a reaction out of me or somethin'? Because if you are, you have my attention..."

loves making out and slow kisses

adores it when you rub his chest that's his sweet spot seriously, he's so sensitive there.

loves cradling your face when you make out

switch: leans towards topping but if you'd like, doesn't mind being a bottom every now and then

his favorite foreplay is eating you out underneath the covers, sucking on your clit with two fingers knuckle-deep in you

very loud when he does this btw

moaning and humming against your pussy, worshipping you and letting you know how beautiful you are

"That's right baby. I make you feel so good, don't I? Tell me how, hnngh, how good I make you feel..."

Very teasing for sure

he's slobbering with drool running down his chin

YEAH BABBYYYY HE TALKS YOU THREWWWWWWW ITTTTT

grinds against the mattress while he eats you out oh lawd

when he's about to cum he clenches his jaw super tight and his eyebrows furrow together

he whines and grunts, lots of "unhhhs" and "yeaaah, fuckkk"s

certified panty sniffer

caught him masturbating with them one time, black lace panties on his dick as he palms himself

and also another time where his left was fisting his dick and his right held the panties right to his face, palm against his mouth.

he licks them mhm

he's taking very deep breaths, really wanting to memorize your scent. it drives him crazy

he does all ur laundry now btw

oh and he loves it when you touch yourself while u sit on his abs. loves looking at you pleasure yourself but after a while he won't be able to resist touching you himself

fav position: mating press

kinks: somnophilia, light bondage (blindfolds, soft rope, flogging), wax play, breeding (dw he always uses a condom he just loves the idea of it), power play, size kink

loves waking you up by fingering you

loves using blindfolds on you, doesn't mind being tied up himself, loves flogging you

loves pretending to fill you up with his babies. to use you for his sexual desires and fill to the brim with his demon cum

he loves the power dynamic between a demon half-breed and a human and he WILL remind you of it constantly

"Be a cute little human and behave for me, won't you? You don't want to make a demon upset..."

"You love my demon dick, don't you baby? Nobody else fills you up, fucks you and stretches you the same way I do, yeah? Yeah? Say it, baby." This is like as he's pounding into you harrrrrd

OK IM DONE OH MY LORD I LOVE NEROOOOOO

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 20 days ago

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Hi, so I wanted to ask for a scenario with Nero in DMC4, where 'YN' infiltrates the Order of the Sword (she is with Dante Trish) I'm very obsessed with this man help - requested by @al4ex

Understandable, he's just as handsome as his dad and uncle! Thank you for the request <3

Not only were you a demon hunter, but a hybrid as well. Your mother wasn't a known demon, just someone who fell in love with a man that showed her true humanity. Which led to you.

And to where you are now.

Your bottom lip was starting to sting with how much you were biting it. Being back here wasn't on your bingo list, seeing as it's been years. Things looked the same, just everyone was older.

"You sure you can handle this?"

You don't look away from the mass below. Eyes trailing over the people you had lived among once. Your name is called once, twice, before a large hand clasps on your shoulder, startling you out of your thoughts.

"I should have made you stay with Lady and Trish." Sighs Dante, a hint of concern in his voice.

"No!" You say to quickly. Cheeks feeling warm, you offer a sheepish smile to the man who had saved you as a child. "I... I can do this." He gives you a look. "I can!"

"Well, then, Kiddo." He pats your back once. "It's show time."

You hesitate. Watching as Dante breaks through the glass and lands before the man preaching. It's not until the gun shot reached your ears did you move. Falling down through the opening he had made and landing upon the desk.

It's not like this was your first demon job. Everyone made sure you were ready before any big job like this one. It's just... a little too close to home. To you, it seems you don't help much in taking down the ones guise as humans that attack. If you were to say anything on it, Dante would say otherwise.

"Kyrie!"

The name was familiar, striking up a memory. Sinning around just in time to see to booted feet smash into Dante's face. A small wince on your face at the scene. Seeing as he was alright, you look back towards who had attacked Dante and your breath left you.

"...Nero?" it's whispered, breathless. Certain no one had heard it, but then Nero looks at you. For a small moment, Dante is ignored as he sat upon the statue of Sparda, watching the scene.

Nero narrows his eyes, an emotion in his eyes appearing that you couldn't name. Did he remember you? Was he going to fight you, too if he didn't? You don't think you could fight Nero if it came to that. And lucky for you - it didn't.

"Is it really you?" He asked, taking a cautionary step forward. "You disappeared years ago, I thought that you..." He trails off. But you knew what he meant.

You give a small smile. "Yeah... Some religious group kidnapped me. Turns out, I was going to be sacrificed. That guy saved me." You said, pointing up at Dante, reminding Nero that he was there.

"So you work for him?" He tensed.

"... In a way." You reply, shrugging. You never thought about it in that way. Dante had taken you in, and with help from his friends, raised you. You only became a demon hunter because you begged him to train you.

Nero sighs, shaking his head before walking up to you. At first you tense, unsure of what he was going to do. Closing you're eyes when his hands lifted, only to be surprised when something is placed around your neck. Music playing from it.

"Hold this for me, will ya?" Nero asked, smirking when you opened your eyes. "I've got an old man to beat right quick."

Laughter bubbles past your lips at is words, looking up at Dante who gave you a playful salute. Bringing your gaze back down to Nero, you nod your head.

"Sure. Just don't get mad when he wins."

"Oh, lost all your faith in me already?" Nero shrugs, rolling his shoulders. "Guess I have to fix that." He paused, looking away from you. "Hey... be here when I get back?"

Expression softening, you nod your head. "Promise."

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 21 days ago

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Me when I read a jean kirstein x reader fanfiction and yn gets to flirt with reiner on the side

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 21 days ago

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Blinkie.World preview!

Here is a preview of Blinkie.world, my blinkie collecton site! The goal here is to collect every blinkie on earth (but only if they're free to use, and can be credited). They're all sorted into these color pages, and also sorted into tons of sub categories on other pages (like food, animals, holidays, etc etc). This is what some of the color pages look like now! Once I have at least 300 blinkies in each color, then I'll consider the site full enough to go live! I'm aiming to get it online by Art Fight (aka by July this year).

Do note that this isn't actually an accurate representation of how many I have. I have thousands more than this! I just have to code them all in. It's not as quick as just an image tag and a link, because it also needs to be named, linked to it's source, tagged so I know what categories they're in, have a link to a screenshot that proves who the creator is and their terms (in case the credit link dies one day), have alt text, and have hover text which says the creator and a description of what the blinkie says! So, it's not like this:

It's actually like this:

And that's for every blinkie! You can probably see how this is so time consuming, but I think it's worth it. I've never seen a blinkie collection with 6,000+ blinkies, much less every single one credited, and even less sorted into dozens of categories! It's like I have a blinkie for everything, while also knowing the creator of each, and being able to easily search for a specific one via the sorting system! It's especially good for helping others find blinkies, and helping people get the sources for blinkies they already have! It's also great for finding blinkies to use for your ocs (which is my initial reason for doing this).

I'm very excited about this. I really think this could be a very fun resource for people, and that aside, I just really like having so many in my possession. I love to see them. I even have blinkies that I've downloaded before they were deleted off the internet! That's very exciting to me. I have blinkies that are straight up lost media, and I'm happy to be able to preserve them.

Of course as I said, it's going to take forever to add them all, but I'm chipping away at it. I shall not be stopped! Also, if you want a blinkie in any of these screenshots above, just let me know! I'll get it and it's source for you, easy peasy! I'll post more screenshots as significant progress is made, but for now, it's back to downloading blinkies!

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 27 days ago

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 30 days ago

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"Without strength, you can't protect anything.... I know that."

Sketch

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 1 month ago

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bubble bath poetry

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 1 month ago

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vergil x reader kisses or something i don’t know how to request

Where the storm begins

Vergil Sparda x reader

An: Hey bro, I gyatt you!!

The day began, as many did, in silence.

Vergil Sparda stood near the window of his study, Yamato leaned against the wall nearby. Morning light poured through the tall glass panes, tracing golden lines along his jaw and the silver strands of his hair. He was reading. Or rather, trying to.

Until he felt it—again.

A press of lips against the back of his shoulder, fleeting and gentle.

You.

“Good morning,” you murmured against the fabric of his coat.

He closed his eyes briefly. “You’ve already said that.”

You laughed lightly. “And I’ll say it again.” You kissed him once more, right at the base of his neck this time, just barely brushing past the high collar. “Good morning.”

Vergil let out a slow breath, neither indulgent nor annoyed—just resigned, as if he was used to the ritual by now. “Do you intend to do this every hour today?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “And maybe more than that.”

“…Why?”

“Because I love you. And because you let me.”

He didn’t respond to that—at least not with words. But he tilted his head slightly, just enough to make space for one more kiss, which you promptly placed behind his ear.

It was only 8:13 a.m.

---

9:02 a.m.

You found him in the hallway this time, seemingly inspecting one of the swords from his collection. He noticed your approach but said nothing.

You crept up behind him and hugged him from behind, cheek pressed to his back.

“Again?” he asked, without turning.

“Mmhmm,” you said, and your lips brushed the center of his spine, soft through the layer of his coat. “You’re warm.”

“I’m a half-demon. That’s hardly surprising.”

“And still, you’re my favorite source of heat.”

A sigh. “You are relentless.”

You grinned against his back. “You like it.”

“…No comment.”

---

10:28 a.m.

He was meditating now, knees folded on the floor, Yamato resting across his lap. His expression was a masterpiece of stoicism, eyes closed, breathing steady.

You crept in as quietly as possible, tiptoeing like a cartoon character.

“Kissing a man in meditation is not advised,” Vergil said, voice low but aware.

“I’ll be quick,” you whispered, crouching beside him. You pressed your lips to his temple and then kissed him again near his jawline. “There. Swift and silent.”

He opened one eye. “That wasn’t silent.”

You smiled sweetly and booped his nose with your finger.

He caught your wrist—not tightly, just enough to halt your mischief. “You will distract me from my practice.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

A longer pause. “You are unbearable.”

You kissed his hand. “And you’re beautiful.”

---

12:00 p.m. – Lunchtime

You both sat across from one another at the long table, though your foot had somehow made its way to rest against his under the tablecloth. Vergil was calmly slicing through his food with precision. You were staring at him openly, like a painter taking in a landscape.

“You’re not eating,” he said without looking up.

“I’m full.”

“You’ve barely touched your food.”

“I’m full of affection. I’ve been snacking on kisses all morning.”

Vergil looked up, arching one silver brow.

You rose from your chair, walked over, and kissed the top of his head. “And I’m having another now.”

He sighed into his plate. “This is absurd.”

You kissed his forehead this time. “No, this is love.”

He let you do it.

---

1:46 p.m.

You found him outside beneath the shade of a tree, book in hand, the wind tousling his hair slightly. You approached silently and knelt beside him.

This time, you didn’t say anything.

You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. Gently. Slowly.

He froze, book hovering mid-air.

“…You’re persistent,” he murmured, eyes unreadable.

“I just want to remind you,” you said softly, “of all the softness the world still has to offer you.”

Vergil was silent for a long moment.

Then, carefully, he turned his face toward you. “You think I need reminding?”

“I think everyone does. Even sons of Sparda.”

A twitch at the corner of his lips. The closest thing to a smile he allowed himself during daylight.

You kissed that twitch.

---

4:12 p.m.

He was training now, shirtless, glistening with sweat. Each swing of Yamato cut the air cleanly, power in every motion. You watched from the doorway, heart pounding. Not just because he was beautiful—but because every time he moved, he looked like he was fighting off ghosts.

You approached, slowly, waiting until he paused to catch his breath.

You offered a towel. He took it without a word.

Then you reached up, brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat.

He froze.

“I know,” you said quietly. “This isn’t easy for you. But you let me in. And I’m staying.”

Vergil’s hand tightened around Yamato’s hilt.

Then he let it go, slowly, setting the blade down.

He looked at you—really looked this time, eyes stormy but quiet. “You’re… a nuisance.”

“But your nuisance,” you whispered, arms slipping around his waist.

His arms wrapped around you in return—reluctant, stiff at first… then gentler.

---

6:00 p.m. – Sunset

You sat together on the roof, side by side, the sky burning orange and gold. He didn’t speak, and neither did you. But your hand found his, and when he didn’t pull away, you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He tilted his head slightly, allowing it.

“I used to be afraid you’d grow tired of me,” you said.

“I used to be afraid I’d push you away,” he replied, surprising you.

You turned your head to look at him.

“I still might,” he added, looking out at the horizon. “But you don’t seem… to care.”

“I don’t,” you said, pressing your lips to the side of his mouth again. “Because you’re worth the risk.”

---

9:22 p.m. – Bedtime

He lay beside you, staring at the ceiling, shirtless and tense. You rested your head against his chest, one arm draped across him.

“Vergil,” you murmured.

“…Yes?”

“Still love you.”

He let out a slow breath, hand resting lightly against your arm.

You tilted up and kissed his chin. Then his jaw. Then his lips.

This time, he kissed you back—slow, unsure, but real.

When it ended, he didn’t pull away. “I’m not used to this.”

“I know.”

“I may never be.”

“That’s okay.”

Silence.

“You’ll kiss me again tomorrow?”

You smiled, eyes drifting closed. “Every hour.”

Vergil let his arm tighten around you.

“…Then I suppose I can endure.”

Made by @yo-ri-su-ki, do not copy or translate my work! Reposts and likes appreciated!! Also if you like this post and want to see more like this, consider following!!

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 1 month ago

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 1 month ago

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The blade can also tremble

Jealous!Vergil Sparda x shy reader

An: here's your first story, thanks for 250 likes!!

The sky outside was the color of bruised lilac, heavy with rainclouds. It had been raining all day—soft, persistent, and cold. Water trickled in slow streams along the stone pathways of the ruined fortress, dripping through the cracks in the old roof and pooling near broken columns. The fire in the hearth crackled quietly, offering the only source of light and warmth in the vast room.

You sat curled up in an armchair far too large for you, legs tucked under your body, a worn blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cocoon. A book lay open in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in what felt like an hour. Your hands were too busy clinging to the warm mug of tea Vergil had left for you earlier without a word.

He was always like that—silent, composed, distant. A shadow with a sword and eyes like sharpened ice.

But he had brought you here. He had protected you from the chaos, the demons, the bleeding sky. And while he never said why, you had stayed.

Across the room, Vergil stood by the broken window, watching the rain. The faint wind tugged at his coat, the dark fabric fluttering like wings around his tall frame. He was impossibly still, as though carved from stone. The only movement came from the faint rise and fall of his chest.

You glanced at him, heart skipping. The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Just full of things unsaid.

You liked it that way, honestly. Words were hard. You were never good with them, especially around someone like him.

Vergil’s voice, low and calm, broke through the hush.

“You’re trembling.”

You startled. Not because of the words, but because he had noticed.

“I-I’m fine,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You gripped the mug a little tighter, heat seeping into your cold fingers.

He didn’t move from the window at first, but his gaze flicked to you, unreadable. Then, slowly, he walked across the room—his steps silent, measured. When he crouched by the hearth, you could feel the temperature shift. Not from the fire.

From him.

“I told you before,” he said, his voice as calm as ever. “You are safe here. No harm will come to you while I draw breath.”

You swallowed. It should’ve been comforting. And it was. But it wasn’t fear that made your hands shake.

“I’m not scared,” you said, softer than before. “Not of you.”

Vergil turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing with interest. “Then what is it?”

You hesitated. Every instinct screamed to retreat, to deflect, to stay quiet. But the words came anyway—fragile, halting.

“I’m just… not used to someone like you.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened—curious, perhaps even cautious.

“Someone like me?”

You met his gaze for a moment, the intensity of it stealing the breath from your lungs. But you managed a small nod.

“You’re… controlled. Strong. Quiet. It’s intimidating. Not in a bad way,” you added quickly, eyes darting to the fire. “Just… different.”

Vergil stood slowly, shadows licking at the hem of his coat. He said nothing at first. You wondered if you had said too much, crossed an invisible line. You always worried about that.

But instead of walking away, he moved to stand beside your chair.

“You think me intimidating,” he said, voice low. “Yet you speak the truth to my face.”

You blinked up at him. “I… don’t want to pretend.”

Something flickered across his face—a shift so subtle, you might’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking. He turned slightly, one hand resting on the back of your chair, fingers curled loosely.

“I find… no reason for you to pretend,” he said. “Your presence does not demand masks. It is… honest. Quiet.”

You weren’t sure what to say. A part of you didn’t believe him. Another part, the smaller, braver one, clung to those words like a lifeline.

He looked down at the floor for a moment, as if lost in thought. Then:

“You remind me of stillness,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught. “Stillness?”

“Yes.” He straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “In the eye of a storm, there is a moment of calm. Silent. Untouched. That is what you are.”

Your heart thundered.

Vergil’s gaze returned to the window. “I’ve chased power my whole life. Lost myself to it. But when you are near…” His jaw clenched slightly. “There is quiet.”

You couldn’t move. Could barely think.

He turned back to you, eyes softer now—less like ice, more like mist.

“You don’t need to speak if you don’t wish to,” he said. “Your presence… is enough.”

That was what undid you. Not the poetic metaphor. Not the fact that Vergil—cold, stoic, unreachable Vergil—had just compared you to the eye of a storm.

It was that he meant it.

You looked down quickly, cheeks burning, fingers tightening around your mug. “I’m… glad,” you said, voice trembling.

He was quiet for a moment, watching you.

Then, slowly, he reached out—fingertips brushing your shoulder. Light. Barely there.

But it was deliberate.

Your breath hitched. The contact lasted a heartbeat. Maybe two.

Then he pulled away.

“I will return before nightfall,” he said, already turning to the door. “The wards will protect you in my absence.”

You nodded, still too stunned to speak.

The door creaked softly as he left, the cold air swirling in after him before it settled into stillness again.

And you sat there, tea cooling in your hands, heart still racing.

Because despite all your doubts, despite your quiet, awkward nature…

You were not just tolerated.

You were seen.

And to Vergil Sparda, that meant more than any declaration.

It meant you mattered.

The days blurred after that moment.

Vergil continued to vanish for hours at a time, leaving you behind in the forgotten fortress, guarded by invisible barriers and the echo of his words. But something had shifted between you. His glances lingered longer. His silences felt less like walls and more like invitations.

You noticed the small things first.

A second mug of tea placed beside yours without a word.

A book, carefully left on the table, written in your native language despite the region’s ruins offering only old demon-tongue scrolls.

A blanket, folded and left on the arm of your chair—not just one of the tattered ones from the storage room, but his cloak. His cloak.

You touched the soft blue fabric hesitantly, heart fluttering. It still smelled like him. Steel, rain, and something ancient. You never quite had the courage to wear it, but its presence was enough.

Vergil never asked questions, never demanded conversation. But one evening, as the rain stilled and the clouds began to part, you found him sitting—not standing—by the hearth for the first time.

A book rested in his lap, unopened. His gaze was distant, eyes reflecting firelight.

You hesitated in the doorway, unsure if you should speak.

“You always hover,” he said suddenly, voice soft. “Come closer.”

You flushed but obeyed, padding silently across the stone floor. You sat a little closer than usual. Close enough to feel the warmth of him. Not just from the fire.

Vergil didn’t look at you at first. “I find myself… restless when you’re far.”

Your heart skipped. “I don’t want to get in your way.”

“You don’t.” He turned his head, gaze cutting to yours. “You never have.”

You looked down at your hands, shy. “I don’t really know what I am to you.”

He stood slowly, as if needing to move just to think. “You were once a burden,” he said bluntly. “An inconvenience I accepted out of necessity.”

The words stung, but he wasn’t finished.

“Now,” he said, turning to face you fully, “I find myself searching for your presence the moment you’re out of sight. I notice when you don’t speak. I wait for your quiet footsteps down the hall. I listen for the sound of your breathing at night to remind myself I’m not alone.”

You looked up at him, lips parted, heart in your throat.

“I do not understand this attachment,” he said, voice tight with restraint. “It weakens me, and yet… I cannot bring myself to let go.”

You stood then, nerves buzzing, and approached him slowly.

“I never asked you to let go,” you whispered.

His breath hitched. His eyes searched yours, and for the first time, his hand reached up, hovering near your face—hesitating, as if waiting for permission.

You gave a tiny nod.

His fingers brushed your cheek.

It was such a gentle, reverent touch—like you were something sacred.

“I don’t know how to love gently,” he admitted.

You smiled faintly, heart racing. “That’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m not fragile.”

The days grew warmer. The fortress, once cold and dead, now stirred with quiet life—flowers growing through cracked stone, moss softening sharp corners, and the ever-present fire that never seemed to burn out anymore.

You noticed Vergil spent more time within the manor walls, staying close to you. He didn’t say it, of course. But you saw it in how often he stood outside the door while you read, or how he’d walk in with some half-destroyed object—an old carving, a page of poetry—and silently place it on your desk as if gifting you a piece of a forgotten world.

Then one morning, while collecting water near the ward’s edge, you met a traveler.

A human. Lost, scared, clearly out of place in the demon realm. He was kind, though—a bit loud and nervous, but friendly. He kept talking to you as you guided him back toward the safe boundaries. Asked your name. Offered his. Told jokes.

And you… you laughed.

Not much. Just a little.

But it was enough.

Vergil was standing at the edge of the courtyard when you returned, Yamato gleaming on his back, his coat fluttering gently in the breeze.

His eyes locked on the traveler. Then you.

And something shifted.

The man’s words slowed as he looked nervously between you and Vergil’s piercing stare.

“Uh, thanks for the help,” he mumbled to you before hurrying away. You turned back toward the doorway—only to find Vergil still watching you, unmoving.

You swallowed. “He was lost. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“I didn’t say you should,” Vergil replied. But his tone was too calm. Too sharp.

You stepped closer, frowning. “Are you… angry?”

His jaw clenched, just slightly. “No. But I find myself… displeased.”

You tilted your head, trying to read him. “Why?”

Vergil looked away, gaze cast toward the horizon. “Because you laughed.”

You blinked. “Is that… bad?”

“You laughed for him.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Vergil finally turned, stepping closer. His presence was magnetic—intense and overwhelming.

“He looked at you like he could touch you,” he said, voice low. “Like he had the right.”

Your breath caught. “And you don’t?”

That made him freeze.

His eyes softened. For the first time, something cracked. The mask slipped.

“I want to,” he whispered.

The admission felt heavier than any weapon. His fingers twitched at his side, unsure.

“I see the way others look at you,” he continued. “Like you’re someone to be claimed. Possessed. They don’t know what it means to deserve you. I have killed for less.”

You stepped forward, heart thudding. “And what do you see when you look at me?”

Vergil’s breath hitched. Then, in a voice raw with restraint: “Peace. And peril. A calm that undoes me.”

You reached for him. This time, you were the one to touch first—your hand gently resting over his chest.

“I don’t want anyone else,” you said softly. “Just you. Even when you’re cold. Or cruel. Or distant.”

His hand came up—slow, deliberate—and cupped your cheek.

“This… thing inside me,” he murmured. “It burns. It claws. But when I touch you…” He leaned forward, foreheads nearly touching. “It goes quiet.”

And then—finally—his lips brushed yours.

Soft. Careful. But desperate in the way he trembled.

You kissed him back, shyly at first, but the moment deepened when his arms came around you—pulling you close as if he feared you'd vanish like mist.

He kissed you like he didn’t know how, but wanted to learn. From you.

When you parted, he pressed his forehead against yours, breath shallow.

“I will never let anyone take you,” he said. “Not while I breathe. Not even from myself.”

And for the first time, you saw it.

Not just his power.

But his fear.

Of losing you.

Of loving you.

And it only made you hold him tighter.

Vergil’s gaze burned, locked on yours. “Yes, you are. And still you remain.”

You leaned forward, just enough that your forehead touched his chest.

He froze—but only for a moment.

Then, his arms came around you. Slowly. Carefully. As if he were afraid you'd disappear if he held too tightly.

You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek—steady, controlled… but faster than usual.

“I don’t need grand gestures,” you said softly. “Just… don’t leave me behind.”

He bent his head slightly, lips brushing the crown of your hair.

“I couldn’t,” he whispered. “Even if I wanted to.”

There was no kiss that night.

But his arms around you, the way he held you like a promise, said everything you needed to hear.

Made by @yo-ri-su-ki, do not copy or translate my work! Reposts and likes appreciated!! Also if you like this post and want to see more like this, consider following!!

an: YALL PLEASE REQUEST MORE VERGIL STUFF I FUCKING LOVE HIMMMM UGHHH

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inyourshallowseaidrowwned · 1 month ago

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ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤWINTER FLOWERㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Vergil Sparda x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It doesn’t begin with love.

You are human—fragile, fleeting, insignificant in the grand tapestry of time Vergil exists in. A being of flesh and warmth. And yet, somehow, you are still standing. Amid the chaos of a demonic incursion, surrounded by blood and bone, you don’t scream. You don’t run. You fight, with trembling hands and stubborn eyes.

That’s when he sees you.

Not for what you are.

But for what you could be.

Vergil watches from the shadows. At first, you’re nothing more than a fleeting distraction in his pursuit of power. But there’s something… different about you. Something that hooks into the raw, feral part of him—the part he’s buried beneath layers of Yamato steel and centuries of silence.

You remind him of his mother, in a way he resents.

You remind him of his humanity, in a way he hates.

And still, he watches.

The obsession grows in silence.

He never announces his interest. That would imply weakness. But you feel him. The air gets colder when he’s near. You dream of blue light. Sometimes, in battle, you swear you see a flash of his coat on the rooftop before the enemy falls to your feet, headless.

You think you’re going insane. You don’t know that he’s following you.

He learns everything—where you sleep, what you eat, the way your voice cracks when you cry alone, thinking no one can hear. He knows the names of every friend you’ve lost. He keeps a list of the men who flirt with you. He splitting them in half with Yamato.

He justifies it.

“You are mine. You just don’t know it yet.”

He begins to test you.

You start encountering stronger demons. Ones that know your name. Ones that bleed blue when you kill them. You think you’re being hunted—when in truth, you’re being tested. Vergil wants to see how far you’ll go. How strong you’ll become. Will you break, or will you grow?

Every time you survive, he grows more enthralled. You are not weak. You are almost worthy. Almost.

But not quite.

Not yet.

And then, you confront him.

Not because you figured it out. No. You walked into one of his traps like a lamb to slaughter, and instead of running… you drew your blade. Eyes fierce. Rage in your blood. You scream his name and challenge him. You accuse him of tormenting you.

And Vergil smiles.

The first smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

“You’ve grown.”

He doesn't deny it. He steps into the moonlight, and when you meet his gaze, you finally understand.

You try to leave.

Of course you do. Any sane woman would. But Vergil doesn’t allow loose threads. He appears again, this time in your dreams. Your shadow. Your heartbeat. His presence becomes inescapable.

You find notes written in ink on your weapons—warnings, riddles. You start seeing him in reflections. You wake with the scent of rain and blood on your sheets, but no sign of him. You speak his name and the wind answers.

And still, he doesn’t touch you.

He waits.

Until you break.

The world turns on you. A betrayal. A massacre. Your home burns. Your soul fractures. Everyone you loved is gone.

He appears in the ashes.

Not as a savior.

But as the one who made it happen.

“I warned you,” he says, tone calm. “You belong to me.”

You try to kill him.

He lets you.

You scream.

He listens.

You fall.

He catches you.

You're his now.

You used to dream of freedom.

Now, you dream of blue. Of rain falling like blades. Of a voice whispering your name, not with affection, but with possession. His voice. Cold, refined, unwavering.

Vergil doesn’t hurt you.

Not with fists.

Never with cruelty.

He hurts you the way winter hurts the last flower—by loving it too much.

He keeps you in a place that doesn't exist on any map. A temple made of broken stone and whispers, suspended in some limbo between worlds. Time doesn't pass here. You don’t know how long it’s been since the fire, the screams, the moment you fell into his arms.

He isolates you. But never out of cruelty. He believes no one is worthy of standing beside you—except him.

But you remember the way he looked at you.

Like you were the final piece of something he’d been building for centuries.

And that piece didn’t fit.

You try to speak of the people you lost.

He tells you they were weak. That you don’t need them. That he is all you need.

You try to cry.

He watches in silence, blue eyes unreadable, as if he’s studying the fracture lines in his favorite blade.

You start to forget your name.

He never calls you by it. Just “you.” “My flame.” “My echo.”

Sometimes, when he’s angry, “foolish girl.”

Sometimes, when he’s afraid to lose you, “mine.” Softly. Whispered like a prayer he never learned how to say.

He trains you, sharpens you, polishes you like a blade. If you fight him, he grows colder. If you kneel, he melts. If you cry, he holds you like a man holding the last piece of his soul.

You ask if he’d kill for you.

“I already have.”

You ask if he’d die for you.

“I won’t need to.”

You wonder if he ever really loved you.

You wonder if you ever really had a choice.

One night, you run.

You don’t know why. Maybe to feel the air in your lungs again. Maybe to remember what pain felt like on your own terms. You don’t get far.

He finds you in the forest, kneeling in the mud, your body shaking from the cold and the shame of it all. You expect rage. A lecture. Violence.

But he kneels too. And for the first time, Vergil looks human.

And then… he holds you.

So tightly, you can’t breathe.

So gently, you break.

Days become emptier.

He trains you harder. Talks less. Watches you more. You bleed in the name of becoming stronger, but you feel weaker. Smaller. You try to remember who you were before he claimed you. The way you laughed. The sound of your own voice. But those memories are fading, devoured by the storm that is him.

Sometimes, you catch him staring at you like you’re a ghost.

Like he knows you’re slipping.

Like he doesn’t know how to stop it.

You ask him, one night, if he would still love you if you became nothing.

“I would love you still,” he says. “Even if all that remained was ash.”

Because in the end…

Vergil doesn’t fall in love.

He consumes it.

And now you are part of him. A blade buried in the scabbard of his soul.

You were never meant to survive him.

But now, you will never escape him.

And deep down…

You don’t want to.

Because he's all you have.

— MASTERLIST ☆

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