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SOFT AND KIND ─ ˚。⋆
summary ⋆ the blue devil seems to have forgotten that despite the invincible nature of his demonic lineage, it could still yield to the weakness of his human half-- namely, the common cold. like a blessing in his life, you're there to take delicate care of him.
tags ⋆ not beta read, fluff, very light angst, self-indulgent, sickfic, taking care of vergil while he's sick
wordcount ⋆ 1.4k
Vergil, for almost all of his life, has never felt defeated to a common cold. Sure, he’s gotten sick and endured worse but the speedy healing factor and impenetrable immune system thanks to his demonic lineage has always made sure he was never weakened for too long. In the rare and unlikely event that he needed medicine, a generic threat accompanied with a grand reveal of his Yamato’s intimidating blade directed to the poor apothecary always ensured that he got what he needed with little to no effort. The half-devil had long been accustomed to solitude, only relying on himself as he defeated demon after demon in his unrelenting quest for power. But that ambitious pursuit had long been left behind, his power-hungry days spent alone long over; he had found something no amount of power could ever compare to– you. In a surprising twist, you had managed to domesticate the blue demon and got him accustomed to a peaceful life in a home. Even Vergil was shocked, initially averse to the idea of growing soft for a defenseless mortal, but with time he managed to adapt just fine.
The susceptibility to human weaknesses like sickness and injury is what Vergil worried about, aware that this new sheltered lifestyle could weaken the indestructible condition of his physicality now that there’s no need for his formerly nomadic lifestyle and reliance on adrenaline. Worse, illness crept up on him over the past few days; he felt himself tire out easily, his senses a little less sharp than he would’ve liked it. His throat followed, becoming dry and uncomfortably itchy. Eventually, his nose started to become runny which led to his predicament now: bedridden with a head cold and fever. Miserable and ashamed, he silently berates himself for not listening to your advice; he should’ve gotten more rest, taken better care of his well-being, and changed out of wet clothes as soon as he got home from consecutive missions. He sinks beneath the bundle of blankets you’ve wrapped him in, sheltering his sensitive eyes and cursing his bothersome headache. If Dante had found out that he had gotten ill, Vergil would not be able to live it down– especially that his younger twin survives off of the least nutritious food items, pizza and strawberry sundaes.
On the occasion, he pokes his head out of the blankets to get some air that his clogged sinuses permits. As Vergil inhales as deep as he possibly could, his sharp-hearing ears pick up on your light footfalls that pad up the stairs; your steps are accompanied by your signature humming and the delicate clinking of porcelain. His mind travels to the thought of warm food for his empty stomach, which now grumbles as he thinks of more warm dishes to stuff his mouth with.
“Chicken congee sounds appetizing,” he thinks. “Or some sort of bone broth with noodles.”
No matter what you would serve him, his only hope is that he could stomach it and keep it down so he’d have some source of strength in order to secure a speedy recovery from this god-forsaken bug. He used to chide humans for yielding to illness, looking down on mortal purebloods with condescension the moment injury falters their bodies only to end up bedridden with an irritating case of joint pain. Well, his demonic side can only hold the flu off for so long.
The silence in the room is interrupted by polite knocks to the door, followed by the sound of you turning the knob as silently as possible. A faint savory and umami scent wafted in the air and his empty stomach grumbled, needing sustenance to effectively bounce back to full health.
“Vergil, it’s time for your meal.” You gently wake him, sitting by his side as you carefully pat the part of the blanket that conceals his shoulder.
He sits up slowly, accompanied with grumbling and groans. “Smells flavorsome,” he weakly comments.
It’s a wonder he can still smell things to an extent despite the clog of his sinuses.
“It’s miso soup with tofu and some veggies,” you explain. “I’ve also got some banana for you.”
There’s also a glass bottle in the tray you brought, along with a sugar cube placed on a spoon. Medicine, he assumed.
He was just about to poke his arms outside of the blanket bundle he made in order to reach for the bowl and feed himself but you beat the sick devil to it, scooping some soup into the spoon and extending it towards him.
“Say ‘ah’.”
“Despite my weakened state, I am still capable of feeding myself,” Vergil explains in a hoarse voice. “There is absolutely no need for what you are doing right now.”
“Just say ‘ah’ and eat up honey,” you softly tut. “You were already groaning in pain while sitting up, let me take care of you this time.”
He didn’t know that it was possible for his cheeks to grow even warmer, burning with shame, yet he still followed as you said and put the bowl of the spoon inside his mouth. A comforting warmth coupled with savory flavours swam around his mouth, earning a pleased hum from your love. Too tuckered out to keep up his stoic front, he let his eyes close every now and then as he allowed you to care for him. In no time, the bowl was empty– soup, tofu, and other vegetables you added. Vergil, now satisfied with his stomach full, laid back down to doze off once more.
“Thank you very much,” his voice puts the silence to a pause again. “For the food, the medicine, and for watching over me.”
“Your welcome, Vergil. Just focus on getting better soon, okay?”
He nods, opening his eyes to lock his gaze with you as much as he could.
“You have my word that I will ensure that my body is in peak physical condition to avoid this inconvenience and reduce your worries in the future,” he promises. “You have done more than enough for me and our household– what I should have done has been completed by you and for that, I feel greatly indebted to you once more.”
Even with his throat feeling scratchy and his head pounding obnoxiously, he’s still wordy and overly formal in his speech, but it’s just another one of his quirks that you find charming.
“I’m counting on that,” you grin cheekily before closing the door.
Medicine always had to intervene with dreams, creating odd and nonsensical dramas that unfolded like poorly planned films as one slept shallowly. Despite the hogwash mess of his dreams that frequented him as he tried to rest, some of them appeared to be taken directly from his memories– ones that he assumed he had locked into a tightly sealed box and stashed away into the farthest alcoves of his mind.
He was just 17 in the dream, far too young to be threatening an innocent family of apothecaries for antidotes. Brandishing his mighty Yamato, he pointed its sharp edge to their necks as he demanded them for the most effective of their materia medica. In another, he was 21 and sneaking into the herbarium of a convent to steal neem and myrrh for his slash wounds. He switched his position, raised the sheets above his head, threw his arms around another pillow, and rubbed on his temples yet nothing could soothe him from the sins of his past. The white-haired half-devil was so distracted by his turbulent dreams that he didn’t notice a sinking feeling beside him. Aquamarine irises shot open when he felt your arms gently surround him, a grounding weight pressing against his body.
“It’s just you,” he whispers.
“Mhm,” you hum. “You were twitching as you slept. Is it one of those dreams again?”
He stayed silent yet you already knew your answer.
“You, too, will fall ill if you dare to continue nuzzling into my flu-afflicted self,” he advises.
“Don’t care,” you respond stubbornly. “Besides, that means you’re probably going to take care of me once I’m the one that’s sick.”
“I take exquisite care of you outside of the reasoning of maladies,” he retorts. “I do not see the need to step into harm’s way just to receive my attention. Regardless of what you get yourself into, you have already captured it effortlessly.”
You chuckle, pressing your cheek into his unusually warm back. Working twice as hard has definitely exhausted you a lot faster and you worry that you definitely will catch this bug but with Vergil by your side, you don’t feel that fear consume you– likewise with your half-devil lover.
#omi.resources#devil may cry#vergil sparda#dmc#dmc vergil#vergil devil may cry#vergil x reader#dmc fanfiction#dmc x reader#devil may cry fanfiction#devil may cry x reader#vergil dmc#vergil x you#devil may cry vergil#vergil sparda x reader#vergil sparda x you
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Can you please write a little something about riding Dante? That man is sooo fine and ik you can bring the idea some justice!!!
hi, anon!! fic has just been posted :DD hope you'll love it <3
READ HERE!!!
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SWEAT FOR ME! ─ ✦.ᐟ
summary ✦ the piling and constant number of missions that come through his doors has left Dante unable to look after himself and neglect his needs, which eventually hits him especially hard one night. luckily, he has his fiancé to take care of it.
tags ✦ p in v, MDNI, not beta read, light cursing, riding, masturbation (m!), dante gets caught jerking off and is turned on by it
wordcount ✦ 1.9k
Mission after mission that came through the wooden doors of the Devil May Cry building left him little to no time to look after himself, hopping from one city to another to take care of some demons. Sure, they were nothing he couldn’t handle but too many all at once while barely having time to recuperate can take a toll on him despite being a seasoned demon hunter. Nero and Nico were running the remote Devil May Cry branch just fine, excellently in fact, so it’s not like Dante had to work thrice as hard in order to keep the lights on and the water going; in short, your fiancé is simply too hard-working for his own good.
Eventually, you hear the distant yet familiar thrum of Nico’s van followed by some conversing voices. Nero heads in first, a hand perched on Kyrie’s waist, followed by Vergil alongside his brother; unlike the others, Dante’s a lot less chatty, especially with the exhaustion evident in his eyes. In true younger sibling fashion, he’s still irritating Vergil but not exerting a hundred percent of his effort into effectively getting Vergil to fall to his ragebait. Whilst everyone makes a beeline for the peeling living room couch, the legendary devil hunter rushes to your arms.
“Hey baby.” His words come out the slightest bit muffled as his stubbly cheek is pressed against your shoulder.
“Hey,” you respond. “Long week, hasn’t it?”
He affirms with a lazy hum, not bothering to use his brain now that he’s home. A deep groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as you give him his favorite head scratches, most of his weight now pressing against.
“Feels nice?” You ask and he nods, eyes damn near closing as all the exhaustion from fighting and travel of the past weeks hits him like a ton of bricks.
“How about you freshen up and I’ll follow you later? I’ll just tell the others we’ll go to bed early.”
He mumbles something, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hugging you like a stuffed animal. Eventually, he lets up and quietly makes his way to your en suite bathroom.
Kyrie breaks away from the group to fetch herself a glass of water from the kitchen and you take the chance to talk to her.
“In case the others are wondering, Dante and I are going to bed early. He can barely keep his eyes open.”
The girl nods, giving you an understanding smile. “Sure! I can tell he needs that rest, the poor man was out cold as soon as we got back in the van. I’m pretty sure Nico drove on the curb at one point and ran over a cone but he didn’t wake up from all the jostling.”
Your eyes widen; Dante was the type to wake up from something as faint as the sound of the window gently rattling because of wind. He was never able to sleep deeply, always kept up by the slightest of noises or the haunting flashbacks of his troubled childhood.
“That’s new, he’s never really the type to sleep through anything like that. Thanks for telling me, Kyrie, and have a good night.”
Right after she greets you ‘good night’ as well, you head up as a yawn escapes your lips with a soft groan.
By the time you’re upstairs, he’s all clean and fast asleep on his side of the bed. The silence of the room is occasionally interrupted by his snores, not too loud but not exactly muted either. The longer you look at his snoozing form, the more you feel slumber’s somnolent lullaby lull you to drowsiness. Tired yourself, you freshen up right before joining him in bed.
One thing about summers that Dante hates is the irritating humidity and heat that drags on until nightfall; he already runs warm like a half-demon heater and the summer intensity just makes it unbearable for him. Unfortunately for him, his deep sleep is interrupted by the uncomfortable feeling of blankets sticking to his sweat-dampened skin. He switches positions, trying to get comfortable, but the chafe of his boxers jolts his body in sensitivity and wrings a whimper out of him. Peeling the too-warm blanket from his lower half, Dante looks down and sees the groin of his garment tented by a raging hard-on.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s too tired but a growing need for relief wrestles against his desire to fall back asleep. You’re fast asleep and facing away from him, he can’t possibly wake you up just to fuck and especially when you look so peaceful.
Electing to ignore his problem, he inches closer to you and snuggles up to hold you while he attempts to find sleep once more. How can he drift back asleep and will for the flames of desire to extinguish when your ass looks so delectable in those flimsy sleep shorts?
Oblivious to his problem, you move ever so slightly in your sleep and brush up against his straining boner.
“S-Shit,” he shakily breathes as he shuts his eyes. “Not the time, bud.”
This won’t do, he thinks to himself. Pulling away from you, his hands travel to his waistband and tug it down just below his ass. Carefully, calloused palms rub the insides of his thighs before coming to squeeze around his needy length.
“A-Ah– shit…–”
Once he has his breathing controlled, he thumbs over his drooling slit before gliding his tunneled hands down to the base. He temporarily stops when he knows he’s about to get noisy, unwilling to disrupt your beauty rest; such a gentleman.
Eventually, he picks up the pace and thrusts up into his hands; it feels so good and he’s right at the edge but it would’ve been better if he was thrusting in and out of your wet heat.
“T-This would’ve been– mmh– better if we had sex– hah–”
He’s right there, but you wake up from all the commotion at your right side.
“Dante? Is that you?”
He freezes, though his grip never loosens around his cock; in fact, getting caught just escalated the intensity of arousal that rushed through his veins.
“Yeah baby, it’s just me.” His voice is strained and ever so slightly out of breath. “Don’t worry, get back to sleep.”
You don’t quite like the breathiness and urgency in his voice, lacking it’s usual cockiness that usually still shines through even when he’s halfway through sleep and consciousness. In a swift movement, you sit up and peel the blankets.
The move startles Dante, who wasn’t fast enough to withdraw his hand from his dick and is now caught in such a promiscuous act. An embarrassed, yet oh-so turned on, flash of warmth surges over his body and manifests on his cheek as a reddened flush. His desire, the overwhelming need to fuck, is evident in his lidded eyes and frankly, the passion spreads like wildfire and sets you ablaze. Suddenly the evening heat is too unbearable for clothes, ridding your lower half of your sleep shorts before sitting on top of his hard-on in just your panties.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” You whisper as you start to grind against him. He groans, large hands settling on your waist.
“Didn’t wanna disturb you,” Dante mumbles. “You looked too peaceful.”
You take his face into your hands, feeling the tickly prickle of his white stubble on your palms, before locking lips in a manner far from composed; the liplock is all spit, whines, and tongue, something reminiscent of a passionate porn flick.
“Grind on me harder,” the white-haired half-demon hissed as he temporarily breaks away from the fiery kiss.
Guiding you along, you grind and bounce strong enough to start making the bed squeak. Dante’s getting more vocal beneath you, silencing himself by pressing wet kisses or hickeys into your skin. The sensitivity is high for you as well, the drenched gusset of your panties allowing for an easier glide along his exposed length. Unlike you, who’s still chasing your high, your fiance is even more sensitive now that you’ve unintentionally edged him moments ago.
“S-Stop,” Dante huffs. You look at him curiously but he doesn’t notice, focused on sliding your panties down before throwing it off to the corner of the room.
“At least you learned not to tear it off now,” you joke. Dante, when crazed and impatient for your tight pussy, has a tendency to rip your panties instead of sliding it off. Not that it overly bothers you, you just can’t keep going back to the lingerie shop and buying new ones; they aren’t exactly cheap.
Now that you’re naked from the waist down, you line him up with yourself and start to sink down.
“I’d love to eat that pussy and feel you gush on my face but I need you on me more,” he pants.
You whined as the head filled you up first, joining his growls in filling the silence.
“F-Fuck, can never get used to how big you are Dante,” you whimper. His stubble tickles against your cheek, followed by a gentle nip to your jaw followed by light kisses.
“Yet you always do so good f’me, sugar. C’mon, just a little more.”
You finally sit on him, cock all the way in. After taking a moment to properly adjust, you begin rolling your hips as your mouth at his earlobe.
“So good,” he praises as he meets your ass, pelvis thrusting up in search of your heat with each bounce. “Sooo fucking good, baby– oh shit–!”
He coos, dragging you down harsher to stuff you completely full. Eventually, your thighs start to give out but you still want to reach that high. Noticing you slow down, Dante halts his ramming for a moment to check on you.
“You gettin’ tired, baby?”
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Still wanna ride though.”
He smiles, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your lip.
“Let me take over, hm?”
He plunges the rest of his cock back in at full speed, not bothering to increase the speed gradually with each powerful thrust. Dante rabbits and rams hard, wringing squeaks and sexed up squeals from you.
“C-Coming–!” you repeatedly murmur in his ear, nails digging into the muscles of his pale back.
“Me too baby, me too. C’mon, you can do it– gush around my cock baby,” he coos.
He plants his feet into the mattress for the last of his thrusts, keeping you pressed tight against his pelvis. You cry out, walls pulsating erratically around his sensitive cock as you lurch forward and tightly enclose your arms around his neck.
He leans back into the headboard, the cool metal a relief that contrasts his warm and sweat-dampened skin.
“Fuck,” you groan. “Missed this.”
He laughs, a hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Yeah, I did too.”
“This is why you have to trust Devil May Cry to your brother and Nero sometimes,” you point out. To further prove your point, you pull away from hugging him and look at him directly into his icicle-colored pupils.
“I’m not saying you should quit by the way, I just want you to take a breather and stop overworking yourself. You’re not alone anymore, Dante, we got you. Let yourself rest sometimes.”
Dante hates that he worries you with how frequent he’s gone, leaving you alone and lacking any attention from him. With a soft smile, he tucks your hair behind your ear and swears that he’ll do better as a fiance.
“Okay, I promise, honey. Now, how does sleep sound? I’m pretty tired now, not gonna lie.”
[ many thanks to the anon who sent a request, hopefully it lived up to your expectations! ]
#omi.resources#devil may cry#dante sparda#dante devil may cry#dmc dante#dante dmc#dante sparda smut#dmc#dante x reader#dante x reader smut#dmc x reader#dante x you#dante sparda x reader#devil may cry x reader
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REQUESTS ༊·˚ ₊ ⊹
🐈⬛ • will write for Dante, Nero, and Vergil • 🐈⬛
-> STATUS - CLOSED
Will only write [character] x reader in fluff, angst, and smut as long as both characters are adults. Specify if you want it to be f!reader or gn!reader. I won't write for male gay or ftm readers bc I don't want to accidentally misrepresent what gay and/or trans people experience as a cis woman.
Check out my masterlist to be sure that your request isn't similar to any past fics I've put out before!
I'm not charging people for writing their requests at all so if anyone's claiming to be me and asking for a fee, block them.
WILL NOT WRITE!!
dead dove, spardacest/incest, noncon/dubcon/rape, underage characters, hybrids, bestiality, anything involving piss and shit, suicide, DDLG/MDLB
Things to note!!
requests will be closed when slots are full or i'm busy with irl things so i won't be overloaded; it'll be reopened once i'm ready
there isn't a guaranteed duration of writing so i can't promise when exactly you'll get your requested fic back
don't spam asks please!!
[I'll also be accepting Leon Kennedy smut asks, all conditions apply to requests for him + fluff/angst asks should be sent to my main!!]
#devil may cry#dante sparda#vergil sparda#dmc#dmc dante#dmc vergil#dante dmc#vergil dmc#dante devil may cry#vergil devil may cry#dante x reader#dante sparda x reader#dante sparda x you#dante sparda smut#dante x you#vergil x reader#vergil sparda x reader#vergil sparda x you#vergil smut#devil may cry vergil#devil may cry dante#devil may cry x reader#devil may cry x you
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I'm sorry
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small rant cos i’m annoyed

why on earth is the ‘nero is ableist’ rhetoric reappearing when the man has experiences with being disabled himself, and has been treated as other since he was born?
he’s mocking someone’s stutter, yes, but it’s directed toward the man threatening to kill him. it’s terribly white knight-esque to expect nero to give a fuck about a comparatively small issue in that moment when he’s never proven himself to be anything other than considerate of the people around him, even when he comes off as aggressive or rough around the edges. nero’s mockery of his enemies isn’t from a place of personal bias or bigotry and i feel like that should be blatantly obvious if you had more than minimal literacy skills.
i know this isn’t that big of a deal but it gets on my nerves when people say things that are just incorrect/an oversimplification. this is more directed to the people who might see that post and without context, or knowing much about dmc4, take the side of the original poster.
am i ranting into the void rn? yes. do i care? no.
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Let's talk about Dante and Vergil's swords, Rebellion and Yamato, and their "publication history" if you will.
In DMC1, Dante's default sword he starts with is Force Edge. It is described as being a "momento from his father."
However by the end of DMC1, Force Edge has its true power unlocked and becomes the devil sword Sparda.
It stays like that permanently afterwards, it never reverts back to being regular Force Edge. So when they were developing DMC2 they needed a new regular default sword for Dante because they couldn't just have him start out using Sparda, so they came up with Rebellion.
I doubt they put any thought into this whatsoever at the time. But when Itsuno was making DMC3, he decided to take the sword they came up with for Dante from the second game and rewrote it a little so that the Rebellion was the sword that Sparda left Dante after all!
Since he was also rewriting Force Edge to be the key that locked away the Underworld, and they had another non-Force Edge sword invented up, it opened things up so that they could take that sword they invented to replace Force Edge in DMC2 to have a lot more importance invoked into it!
And since they were also taking Vergil and completely changing his character for the sake of their plot for this prequel game, let's also give him a keepsake sword from Sparda! You might not realize this if you hadn't beaten DMC1 at least on hard mode, but the Yamato was NOT just some random cool samurai sword that they gave Vergil because he's so cool. You see back in DMC1 if you beat it on hard mode you unlocked the Legendary Dark Knight mode, which was a model swap for Dante where he was dressed up as Sparda. And along with Sparda's clothes and DT, you also got to use Sparda's sword the Yamato!
That's right, the Yamato as a sword actually predates Vergil the character as we know him. The detail that it has the power to DIVIDE things in two is even right there in the description from the original game as well! So Itsuno took this bonus weapon that is described as being wielded by Sparda, and decided it was the matching keepsake weapon given to Vergil in DMC3. Since Vergil is the older twin, he gets the sword Sparda actually used himself.
The way these swords of such esteem power and prominence have the origin of Itsuno taking disparate elements from the baton passing development of the first two games where the original was made by Kamiya and the second game was made under duress is really nifty to me. Playing DMC5 you'd almost think it was all planned out from the beginning, but nothing could be further from the truth. That's the mark of true creativity I think. Instead of just saying DMC2 was bad and ignoring everything about it, he took the default sword from that game and did something creative with it. Now in the majority of peoples minds, Rebellion is the signature sword for Dante. And by that same token, most fans don't have any idea that Yamato was an unlockable weapon all the way back from the first game because it's just so iconic as Vergil's signature blade.
Pretty cool, I think.
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thinking baout their interactions and realizing they know very different dantes
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hello dmc fans am i insane or does vergil push dante out of the way here. like unless its an animation error his body moves as if vergil pushed him with the handle of the yamato. yknow.
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Here's my Nero design, imagining if he's in DMC6
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