#ill start using these tags for this stuff

[lust4nero]

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.

[cankersaurus]

Toxic Yaoi

[dizzybizz]

the game dialogue:

the dialogue in my head:

[molathesunfish]

my limbus bugs mainly based on characters that may or may not show up later... and one mystery feature for your guessing fun:]

[mizzical]

sketch of... That guy

[ruporas]

high school au (ID in alt)

[gonchillunchis]

ancient josuyasu doodle (circa 536 a.d)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[ribbononline]

Two comms for my lovely boyfriends OC!! Chara owned by @riverdessert :]

[apuff]

my chemical tober :D

[emotsper]

huddle up everyone. its almost time.

[st4rstudent]

Scary Star Wars ocs

featuring them all standing next to each other + some doodles

I didnt feel like drawing M1-TZ on the last one. pretend he's there

[kulliare]

tagged by @shrips for 9 books you'd like to read in the new year! ty for the tag-- i tag @halfagod @albatrossisland @eponine119 @tru-lyly

[honkowo]

ok why not ill post phony art here too

tryna stay/get back into the habit of actually FINISHINGGG my phony art via cloning art of @ratologist 's palindrome erlenmeyer flask! despite the fact that this guys clear i had a suprisingly easy time drawing them lol peace an love :))))

[xxplastic-cubexx]

marvel rivals being an fps means you guys have to deal with my sweaty ranting and to start i just need to say if marvel rivals doesnt implement a role queue of sorts down the line i will literally jump off my roof

[pup-pee]

harpoon shipping doodle :3

w/some hcs! cause UH ofc there r!!!! uhhhh also theyre supposed 2 b like tweens in this dont ask how or where theyre hanging out ok? yay <3

IF U DONT LIKE THE SHIP PLS JUST DONT INTERACT LIKE PLS JUST DONT B WEIRD ok love u