#soft vergil

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Without You: Vergil x G/N Reader

Summary: You have been missing for some time now and Vergil is slowly losing it. The blue devil's constant fear and worry about you being dead has turned him into a shadow of hi former self; someone that is even capable of grinding on Dante's gears.

Another pretty story-heavy oneshot; six dividers (double equal signs) down for important parts if you want to skip the pre-text. ⏳⏳⏳ Once again, I reference the “Revenant Shotgun” as being your gun; I really think the gun is pretty lmao. You also use Beowulf. Minor blood/gut talk, nothing too serious though (figured I should mention it just in case). This is the first time I have tried to write combat since I was like 13, so forgive the (probably) less-than-adequate scene writing--I tried lol. ⏳⏳⏳ Pre-established relationship with Vergil. G/N reader. ⏳⏳⏳ Semi-angst followed by fluff (I don't know why I keep writing sad Vergil things; I swear I'll stop after this lmfao)

==

     The air was stagnated and stale as Nero slowly sat up, groaning in pain. His head was pounding as he looked around, confused and disorientated. He slowly blinked as he got a grasp on his surroundings. With a huff, Nero mindlessly groped around his lower back for Blue Rose and found it missing. This snapped him to attention as he began to sporadically eye over the area around him. 

     His brow furrowed as he focused on Red Queen which was thrust into the ground nearly twenty feet away. Slowly standing up with a wince, he went over to the sword. As he yanked the stubbornly stuck blade from the ground, a glint of light caught his attention. Blue Rose was laying on the ground nearby. 

     Placing Red Queen on his back, he clicked his tongue and went to retrieve his sidearm. “What in the fuck happened?” Nero’s thoughts were a blur as he scrunched his face struggling to put together the broken pieces of his recent memories. 

==

     “Move it, asshole!” Nero insincerely barked as he held a growl from deep within his throat.

     You ducked down into a roll, knowing that Nero was going to lose control soon and it was best not to argue with his demonic side. Using Beowulf to quickly spin upward and to your feet, you managed to make quick work of a Choas demon's spines. Seizing the opportunity, you aimed Revenant dead-center of the creature’s eyes and pulled the trigger. Smoothly holstering your shotgun, you continued fighting the onslaught of demons alongside the now devil-triggered Nero. 

     It was like a beautiful deadly dance when the two of you got into your well-practiced tango of destruction. Nero would typically take a more topside approach, using his wings to pull things to him and then dropping them to you. His over-the-top chaotic slashing and slicing would then be cleaned up by you underneath him. You, who had the completely opposite style, opted for a calm and collected approach, especially if you were using Vergil’s gear. Times like these are something you cherish dearly and never want to end--even if you are being coated by blood and demonic entrails. 

     A sudden out-of-place movement caught the corner of your eye as you tried to move out of its path; however, you weren’t quite fast enough and got thrown across the room.

     Nero’s attention was drawn to your flying body, “What the--!” before he could think he was hammer fisted directly into the ground below him. With a bright-blue flash, his devil trigger ended, leaving a confused and human Nero looking up at a strange figure above him.

     The demon was not one Nero had seen before--it reminded him of the descriptions of the “Third Beast of Revelations”. However, its appearance wasn’t quite as he remembered being told--only having four of the seven heads that it is supposed to have. 

     The young man stood up, “What the hell are you supposed to be, huh?” he smirked. The creature lunged at him, which Nero avoided. He laughed a bit holding the Blue Rose aimed at the back of the beast, “Too slow. Wanna try again?” 

     Nero sidestepped the demon again but was hit by an unexpected swing of its tail. He dropped his revolver as he was tossed across the room. Nero went to get up again. Before he moved back in, however, his ears twitched at a strange sound. The hunter turned to his side and realized that the noise was your breathing. Gently grabbing your shoulder, Nero tried to shake you awake. Revenant and Beowulf had been tossed far from your body and you were out cold. Seeing as there was a large amount of blood dripping from your forehead, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon. 

     “Shit,” Nero mumbled under his breath as he pulled Red Queen from the resting place on his back, “You’re gonna owe me big time.”

     With an impossibly blinding speed, the young hunter took off toward the large demon. Nero’s face was in a grimace as he focused the best he could without his trigger. In hindsight, he was regretting using his demonic energy on such a simple fight before. 

     His attempt at defeating this beast alone was futile; it was much too strong for him in this state. Another large hit from the beast sent him flying in the opposite direction as before; leaving your unconscious body as far from him as possible. The demon also noticed this as it turned its sights to your limp form. 

     “Tch, shit-” Nero hastily got up on his feet and ran to your aid; however, it was too late. The beast had your body in its grasp as it curiously looked you over. “Put them down you fuck!” his mind was racing; if something happens to you, Vergil will kill him. 

     With a grunt, Nero sprung up at the demon. Who only batted him away again. He used Red Queen to stop himself from flying so far off. Knowing there wasn’t time, he left the sword and was going to fight using just his hands. Was it stupid? Yes. Did he care? No, not if it meant trying everything he could to protect you--someone who had become essentially his step-parent. 

     However, the demon had no intent on letting you leave this place with the youngest Sparda descendant. It opened a fissure through the floor, but before leaving, attacked Nero one last time. It sent him flying in an almost straight line across the room and into a wall, knocking the hunter out cold. 

==

     Nero stood in front of where he had last seen you lay, your weapons were still strewn about and your coat had fallen from your shoulders as you were snatched upward. A cold heavy feeling sunk in as he just stood there staring. 

     Slowly he gathered your gear, he didn't know how he was going to tell the others what happened. Nero didn’t know whose response would be worse; Dante mocking him for his lack of skill or Vergil who would undoubtedly lose it over this. 

     He just wanted to go back to the DMC and get this over with. Nero left the demon nest, not caring that he hadn’t finished the job. Outside, Nico was in her van waiting for the pair’s return. 

     Seeing Nero, she opened the door of the van, “Took y’all long--” she paused, seeing the gear in Nero’s arms, “Whoa, wait… Where’s--”

     “I don’t know,” Nero mumbled, refusing to look Nico in the eye as he got into the vehicle.

     “Whatdya’ mean ‘you don’t know’?” her voice was playful, thinking that Nero was just fucking with her as he placed the items on the table. 

     He leaned a bit onto the table with his palms flatly pressed against it, “I don’t know where they are..!” he grimaced as he stood back up with clenched fists, “Some fucking big asshole took ‘em” 

     Nico’s expression and pose changed from casual to a more serious one, “Wait-- they’re really missin’?” Nero’s frustrated stare said it all, “Holy crap-- Should we call your folks, I’m sure--”

     “It wouldn’t help,” Nero relaxed his fists and took a deep breath trying to calm down, “They’ve been gone for a while, their scent’s gone.”

     “Shit,” Nico pursed her lips as she paused for a moment, “Well, whaddya’ wanna do?”

     Nero looked over to her, “I want to go to the shop. This is more important than the job.”

     “Gotcha,” Nico wanted to poke at him but found herself unable to. Nero looked beyond exhausted and she knew that the brother’s responses will be more than punishing enough. 

     Neither of them spoke the whole way back.

==

     Not wanting to be there when the three devils rip each other apart, Nico just dropped Nero in the garage and left.

     Deciding to wait a moment before going in, Nero focused his hearing. He only heard one heartbeat meaning there was only one person at the shop when he returned. Thankfully, upon opening the door, it was Dante.

     The red devil sat at his desk with his back to the garage, “Hey, you two are back early,” his gaze didn’t leave whatever he was doing on his desk, “Was thinking about ordering a pizza. You guys want anything?”

     Nero’s face was pale and gave no response. He just simply walked over to the coffee table and plopped down your coat and weapons.

     Dante pouted slightly with confusion, “If you don’t want--” his brow twitched as he noticed that there was only one person that had come in, “Hey where’s--” his happy expression dropped quickly. He moved around to the side of his desk to see what Nero had just set down.

     “Dante-” Nero bit his tongue in thought, “Before you go off; hear me out?”

     He scratched the stubble on his face, “Sure, go ahead kid.” he leaned back onto his desk.

     Nero explained what happened and what attacked them. Surprisingly, Dante wasn’t mad or made any rude jabs about things. He just simply nodded along and paid close attention.

     “Well Nero,” Dante shook his head and sighed, “As much as I want to give you shit-- You’re lucky to be alive. That bastard ain’t an easy thing to fight, ‘specially without a trigger handy…”

     Nero’s gaze found its way back down to your gear, “You think they’re still alive, Dante?”

     He sighed and stood back up, “If they weren’t, Vergil would know by now,” he bit his lip, “Question is: why did the demon want them alive?”

     “Think Vergil would know?”

     “Doubt it, he knows just as little as I do about those beasts…" he paused briefly before continuing, "Look, Nero,” Dante set a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “go home. I will tell Vergil about this whole thing. He’s already ripped off your arm, I really don’t want him to try ‘n gut you too. Okay?”

     Nero was taken aback by what he said and nodded, “Thanks, Dante.”

     “Any time kid,” Dante removed his hand, “Just don’t come back till I let you know it’s safe. Might take your old man a few days to calm down.”

     “Sure thing,” Nero moved to the garage door, “Keep me posted, yeah?”

     Dante gave a stiff nod to Nero as he watched him shut the door.

      “Vergil’s just going to gut us instead… You’re a fuckin’ genius, Dante.” he sighed at his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do?

     A few hours passed before the door finally swung open. Vergil stepped into the shop raising a brow at his brother who was at the desk asleep. With a sly smile and shake of his head, Vergil walked further into the room. 

     However, that smile quickly faded upon seeing Revenant, Beowulf, and your folded jacket sitting on the coffee table, “Dante.”

     The younger twin slowly blinked as he opened his eyes and sat upwards, “Hm?”

     “What is--” Vergil’s brow slowly furrowed further and further, “Why is their gear here?”

     “Well..” Dante stood up and took a deep breath, “Look I ain’t gonna sugar coat it: They are missing.”

     “ What? ” Vergil’s voice was sharp as he glared at Dante.

     “Look, before you go and try to kill Nero--It wasn’t his fault,” Dante shrugged, “We would’ve had a tough time with what happened.”

     Vergil made sure to enunciate each word clearly, “Dante, what happened.”

     “They were attacked by one of those Revelation beasts. Your kid barely made it out. Nero said that they took your partner with them, so the demon wanted them alive for some reason.”

     Vergil’s face went pale as his blood ran cold, “Where were they, I want to have a look at things.”

     “Sure thing… I’m coming with though--you might need me,” Dante winked then stretched with a groan.

     “Whatever.”

     They did go look. Vergil found nothing. It was a dead end.

==

     Several months had gone by and the usual bustling and jovial atmosphere of the Devil May Cry had faded. Now all that remained was a quiet angst and depressed mood that was brought on by one individual alone.

      The silence was broken by the sound of the garage door opening. Standing in the doorway were the two twin sons of Sparda; Vergil stood in front of Dante. The eldest headed up to his room, not saying a word. His silent steps were filled with anger; an emotion that has become a common theme in recent times. Dante just stood, watching his brother go up the winding stairs.

     Across the room, Nero sat on the couch. His gaze moved off of his phone and onto the remaining brother--who was already raiding the fridge, “Any luck, Dante?” 

     “No! There was absolutely fucking nothing.” Dante was seething as he looked over at Nero, “Your old man is just so… infuriating; I am this close to shoving the Yamato so far up his ass--.” with a pinch of the bridge of his nose, the youngest twin huffed out a heavy sigh.

     Nero shook his head with a small laugh; knowing exactly how Dante felt. Vergil would barely talk to Nero without getting an irritated tone and becoming condescending, “Don’t worry, it’s only gonna keep getting worse; how long’s it been anyways--four months?”

     Dante let out a nod of affirmation walking over to his desk. He kicked up his feet and cracked open the bottle drinking the majority of the bottle in one go, “You know, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if Vergil’s going to storm his way down into Hell just to make sure he’s looked everywhere.”

     “He’s that desperate, huh?” Nero sat forward more on the couch, paying more attention to what was being said. 

     “That doesn’t even come close to describing how Verge’s being. I mean,” Another wave of building frustration was slowing creeping onto Dante’s face signified by his furrowed brow, “I don’t blame him for being worried--I would be if it were my lover--but still…” he exasperatedly removed his boots from the desk, making a slight thud as they hit the floor, “-he doesn’t have to be such a dick about things. I’m trying to help.” Dante was attempting to find his happy place--lest he wants to have another hole in the drywall.

     “Vergil being a dick is nothing new--you’d know that better than me--he’s just not used to needing help,” Nero stood up from the couch revealing a manila envelope in his hand, “On a better note: Morrison dropped this off while you were out, said it’s for your eyes only.”

    “Really?” Dante reached forward and snatched the envelope, “I wonder what that means, Morrison doesn’t often--” his voice slowly drifted as something inside the folder caught his attention. He continued to flip through the documents faster and faster with a wide-eyed stare.

     Curiosity getting the better of him, Nero leaned over trying to take a peek at the papers, “What’s so interesting, huh?”      

     Without answering, Dante jumped up from his seat. The youngest son of Sparda ran up the stairs and began to bang rapidly on a certain blue demon’s door, “Vergil! Vergil, open up! Come on! Verge--”

     A door pushed hard into Dante’s shoulder as a set of mildly bloodshot iced-over eyes met his, “What is it?” Dante stood frozen for a moment, not expecting Vergil to have answered the door so quickly; let alone seeing him after he had been (what appeared to be) crying, “What do you want, Dante.” Vergil’s sharp tone cut Dante from his thoughts.

     “Shit, sorry. Just--here,” he shoved the folder at Vergil, “have a look at this.”

    Vergil lifted a brow in curiosity as he let go of the doorknob and stopped shoving the door into his little brother. Sighing quietly, Vergil began to sift through the documents and pictures; the further he read, the further his brow creased. Vergil’s voice was rough and cracked as he looked at Dante, “Where--”

    “Morrison dropped it off while we were out. Gave it to Nero… Is it that what I think it is?” 

     Vergil cleared his throat and took a short pause, “It could be--I would have to see it to be sure.”

    “Alright, then saddle up princess, we got a job to do,” and with that, Dante left before Vergil chastised him for the jab. 

     A few moments later, Vergil came downstairs with his demon hunting gear re-equipped. Dante stretched his arms upward cracking his back quite loudly, “Ready, Verge?” Vergil gave Dante a curt nod and began to walk toward the garage door. Before leaving, Dante humorously cooed at Nero, “Make sure to finish your homework and be in bed by 7. We will be back in the morning--so behave till then. Love youuu~” flashing a wide sharp-toothed grin, he waved and headed for the door--ignoring the fact that Nero just whipped him off. 

     “Where is the location?” Vergil’s voice was deadpan as he unsheathed the Yamato.

     “Here-” Dante handed Vergil the paper with the address, “So, what are we gonna do if it really is--”

     “Silence." Vergil’s voice was sharp as his eyes turned to a harsh squint in irritation; tossing the folder off to the side. 

     Dante pursed his lips, pouting slightly at his brother’s attitude; but, didn’t feel like bantering so he remained silent. 

     Upon exiting the portal, the twins looked in front of them. The object of the job was before them, a large nest that was crawling with demons. Not wanting to waste time, they both ventured forward. 

==

     A few hours passed as the brothers slashed their way through the mound’s inhabitants. Dante and Vergil stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

     Dante adjusted his coat, “So, how far down do you think it’ll be? We gonna have to go all the way?”

     “Most likely,” Vergil slicked his hair back, “Is that a problem?” 

      “ ‘Course not, just was wonderin’,”

     Vergil didn’t respond and just continued forward, Dante following in toe.

     Dante cracked his knuckles, “So if it is-- then what?”

     “I do not know--nor will I know until I see it.”

     “Really hope that this lead is real and not another stupid hoax,” Dante frowned. 

     “If it is not worth our time,” Vergil’s voice was filled with more hostility with every word, “I will make sure to give the client a visit .”

     “No-- Vergil you can’t kill our clients; we are demon hunters, not people hunters. Plus, this nest needed to be taken care of anyway.”

     The eldest twin only scoffed in response. 

==

     It had been nearly eight hours since entering the nest and they still had no signs of what they were looking for. Both of them were getting crabby at this point; Vergil about the lack of evidence and Dante because of Vergil’s attitude. 

     “I swear--” Dante growled in frustration, “I am going to just fucking dig my way to the bottom of this fucking bastard.”

     “That is impossible,” Vergil’s voice held no emotion. 

     “I know, I am just getting sick of this shit,” he groaned, “Just feels like we are getting nowhere--that’s all.”

     Vergil stopped and tilted his head up slightly. Upon seeing this, Dante stopped as well.

     “Verge, I didn’t-” 

     Vergil turned his head to the left and began to walk.

     Dante rolled his eyes and pivoted in a grandiose manner, “Okay-ay, I guess we are goin’ this way now.”

     They walked in silence for a few more minutes before coming to a dead end. Vergil began to scowl and stare at the wall.

     “That’s a mighty fine wall there Verge, but what-” 

     “Break it.”

     “... What?” Dante double-took at his brother’s words.

     “I want you to break down this wall,” Vergil’s eyes moved sharply off the wall and to Dante.

     “Look, Vergil, I made a joke about breaking shit down--wasn’t actually going to start--”

     “Do as I say, Dante,” Vergil snarled, “Break. It. Down.”

     Dante sighed, driving his sword into the ground, and responded by using a mocking baby voice, “Fine, mister grumpy pants.”

     Using his Sin Trigger, Dante made quick work of the wall. The pair quickly stepped through as the hole repaired itself behind them. He shifted back into his human form and jogged after Vergil, who was already going forward. Another half hour passed of Vergil's speed walking forward intensely focused on something.

     “Soooo… Plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing or are you gonna make me guess?”

     Vergil hit Dante flat across the chest with a sheathed Yamato; before Dante could protest, he saw what his brother was staring at. 

     In front of them stood a fairly huge demon--the same one from the job's folder. The creature was similar to a centaur; however, a lizard (or demon) had been thrown into the mix as well. 

     A large spear was held by one of its three-fingered hands. On the body, there were three sets of violet claws; the legs of which were covered in a thick dark midnight blue fur with bits of sky blue streaks scattered throughout. Three maroon-scaled tails protruded from the back of the creature, a thin cerulean membrane trailing up the middle of each topside and trailing up the base of the creature’s skull.  

     Layered scales, colored the same as the tail’s, ran up the underbelly, body, and torso of the demon. Pale teal-green scaled skin was exposed through the frontline of the torso, showing off a muscular structure similar to that of a human. 

     Continuing up those scales led you to the head of the beast. It was similar in shape to a human’s but had seven eyes of pure milky white which filled the entire front due to the lack of a mouth. Extending from the sides of the face, there were clay-grey semi-transparent frills--appearing very much like a frilled lizard’s--that ran from the underside of the jaw up to a set of horns that the frills connected to. 

     Dante nudged Vergil, “Man, I thought Lady’s demon form was ugly--theirs takes the cake. Good job using that nose of yours and finding your mate, good thing you--” he stopped noticing his brother’s glazed-over stare.

     Vergil was paying no mind to Dante or anything around him. His eyes were focused on the trinket that was embedded right in between the creature’s collar bones, nestled deep in the suprasternal notch. His blood ran cold as he would know that jewelry anywhere; it was his amulet half--the one he had gifted you on your anniversary nearly a year ago. He stood, unmoving--not even taking deep enough breaths to move his chest. Everything in him told him to fight the capsule of a demon in front of him; yet, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Dante, however, was paralyzed by neither fear, grief, nor anger; he was actually glad they finally found you. Giving one last glance at his, still very frozen, brother Dante moved into the large space--drawing the demon’s attention. 

     “So,” he started, “this is where you’ve been hanging out, huh? ‘Place is kind of a drag if you ask me,”  Curiously, the demon slowly approached Dante, staring at him, “You ain’t gotta make this hard--just lay that big stick down and let us-” he looked back at Vergil, who still hadn’t moved, “or well let me get you outta there. Whaddya say?”

     It stood in front of the younger brother for a moment then turned its head to look at Vergil. Without even returning their attention back to Dante, they punted the younger brother across the room with one swing of its paw. A loud crack emanated from the force of him hitting--and going through--the wall. 

     “Son of a Bitch…” With a groan, Dante slowly stood back up, “And I’m supposed to believe you’re the same person that gives me shit for my hugs.”

     Digging his heels into the ground, Dante took off running. He raised his Devil Sword as he got within striking distance; however, the demon only backhanded him, sending him flying once more. The creature still hadn’t torn its gaze from Vergil; it almost seemed as if it was trying to place the eldest son. Dante attempted to strike again, only to be hit away for a third time.

     The eldest son’s mind was racing; between infinite anger that spiraled to the deepest darkest depths of his demon and immense guilt for not protecting you eating at his human consciousness--Vergil, for the first time in a long time, was completely frozen. He was your boyfriend, your lover, your mate; he should’ve been there to protect you: instead, you ended up suffering something that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

     “Okay, you bastard,” Dante sniffled as blood began to drip from his nose, pulling out Ivory & Ebony, “Let’s try this, shall we?”

     Upon feeling the bullets hit the side of their legs, the demon turned to Dante--finally breaking their piercing staredown. It trotted towards Dante and swung its spear, only missing Dante by mere inches. He jumped onto the spear and ran up it, still firing the twin pistols. The creature used its free hand to grab Dante; moving much faster than the devil hunter had expected, and began to constrict him.

     “Heh, you got quite the--,” he let out a strained groan, “quite the grip.”

     Dante struggled a bit trying to loosen the demon’s grip. He couldn’t focus like this and, if he couldn’t focus, triggering (in any capacity) was off the table. So, Dante did what any younger sibling would do; he started to yell for his big brother.

     “Vergil-- I could use a hand here!” Dante’s body started to ache from the pressure, “God damn it! VERGIL!”

     The loud shouting from his baby brother pulled Vergil from his thoughts. He looked up at Dante and started moving. The demon’s attention was now drawn to the sudden movement of the oldest brother and ever-so-slightly loosened its grip. Not wanting to waste the chance, Dante quickly triggered; making the demon drop the lava-hot Dante.

     “He-hey! Nice to see you finally helping out,” Dante rolled avoiding the large spear.

     Glaring over at Dante, Vergil teleported near the creature’s ankle and sliced it with Mirage Edge; coating him with the creature’s blood.

     Vergil moved to Dante’s side taking advantage of the few moments of reprieve the attack gave them.

     “So, got any ideas?” Dante tried to wipe some of the blood off of Vergil’s face using his coat; however, Vergil harshly swatted away his hand.

     Vergil’s brow furrowed, “Its front and neck would be the best places to try and cut it open; given its scales might be much thicker than I think…”

     Dante twitched his head to the side in a nod, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Better than nothing. Shall we?”

     The twins decided to split, each going opposite ways. Confused about what to do, it followed Dante with its body while attempting to use its tails and back paws to hit Vergil.

     Dante took another large hit and created another crater in the wall. He fell to the ground catching himself at the last moment, coming to rest in a kneel. He took a moment to wipe some blood that had begun to drip from his mouth. 

     A large heavy object slammed into Dante, it was Vergil. The two of them hit the wall together, Vergil’s weight only shoving Dante further into the already-created crater: they both were going to be sore after this.

     They both removed themselves from the wall and stood side by side, both slouching slightly.

     With a growl-covered groan, Vergil’s eyes sharpened their gaze upon the demon, “You still have a trigger left in you, brother?” his breath had become slightly ragged.

     Despite his exhaustion, Dante clapped back with his typical sarcastic tone, “Always--you sure you wanna use yours?” Dante straightened his posture.

     Vergil flicked out his arm on the side opposite Dante, summoning his doppelgänger, “For this, yes.”

     There was a flash of light and the two were both in their Sin Triggers. It was quite the sight, one that only would occur when the brothers were fighting themselves. Neither of them had to tell the other what the plan was; perks of being twins as Dante would say.

     Taking the same approach as before, they spilt ways--Doppel following beside Vergil. 

     The demon was confused and turning itself around in circles over how many fast-moving targets it was now presented with. Vergil and Doppel managed to keep the creature’s attention long enough that Dante was able to get behind the creature’s head. With great strength, Dante grabbed the creature’s horns and pulled its head back. He did his best to keep it steady; however, it thrashed like a bull and unexpectedly was able to shake Dante around. Seeing his brother struggling, Vergil sent Doppel to assist him. With the two both pulling on the creature in opposite directions, the thrashing slowed. 

     Seizing the opportunity, Vergil shot up the midline of the torso cutting along it with the Yamato. Once he reached the bottom of the amulet, he stopped and fell back to the ground calling back Doppel; Dante followed suit.

     They both stood as humans, having exhausted their demonic energy, staring with bated breath. The demon’s midline showed the cut; however, nothing was happening. 

     “Verge ain’t--” Dante’s face went pale after turning towards his older brother.

     Vergil looked pissed, no, he looked beyond pissed. His grip had tightened on the Yamato so hard his knuckles were turning colors. Without warning, Vergil triggered himself once more and took off toward the demon; this time, however, the creature wasn’t being held back by others. 

     He jumped off of the spear that had been swung and avoided the other hand’s attempt at grabbing the blue devil. His speed was unimaginable as he was instantaneously on top of the demon’s head. With great effort, he plunged Mirage Edge deep into the scaly skin and tissues of the creature. Swiftly, he yanked the blade down the middle of the face, down the throat, and stopped above the necklace. With one of his forearm blades, Vergil gouged out the amulet and tore it from its resting place. 

     A large amount of blood began to spew from the new incision. Vergil was thrown violently from the beast as it began to flail about. A plume of blue energy emitted from the man as he hit the floor--hard. Dante ran over to the hole containing the other twin with slight concern. The once again human, Vergil lay unmoving in the newly-formed crater as Dante slid down to his brother’s side. 

     “Hey, you’re not dead--right?” the red demon poked Vergil slightly. 

     Vergil slowly opened his eyes and glared up at Dante, “It will take much more to kill me,” he sat up and groaned quietly in pain, “I assure you, little brother.”

     Dante laughed and offered a hand to help Vergil up; which, normally he wouldn’t accept but today Vergil was too exhausted to fuss over such things.

     Upon exiting the crater they found the demon laying on its belly like a resting horse, slowly bleeding out from Vergil’s second attack. 

     Vergil moved to finish it off but was stopped by Dante’s forearm, “Allow me.” 

     Dante carefully used his Devil Sword and re-cut over the Yamato’s shallow slice. Although the demon was dying, it did put up somewhat of a fight by swinging its hands and claws at Dante; all the while, its gaze found Vergil’s again--who was slowly approaching the suffering creature. 

     “Just die already, you son-of-a-bitch,” Dante growled through his teeth as he dug his sword further into the demon’s stomach, making it shout an ear-piercing sad cry; which sounded almost human-- Vergil did his best to ignore that part.

     The demonic corpse dissolved slowly. Vergil had made it to his brother’s side as he watched the disintegration before them. He bent over and picked up the amulet that he had dropped while being thrown around. With a gentle sigh, Vergil placed it into his pocket and stood back up.

     The pair's attention was now drawn to where the head of the beast once lay. In its place, you were laying there; naked and dead to the world. At first, the brothers thought you were actually dead but then they heard your faint heartbeat and took a sigh of relief. 

     Vergil’s expression was a strange mixture of joy, anger, and sadness. He walked over to you, his steps were cautious and silent. Once by your side, Vergil removed his coat, gently wrapped you in it, and picked you up. His brief moment of solace was interrupted by a large tremor.

     “Hey, uh, Verge--” Dante quickly moved to his brother’s side, “You gonna be able to get us outta here?”

     Vergil paused for a moment giving thought to whether he could or not, “Yes,” he pursed his lips.

     Dante noticed his hesitation and was going to question him; however, the younger brother quickly put together why. “Vergil, hand them to me--you can’t use Yamato like that.”

     “No, I--” another tremor broke off a part of the ceiling nearby, “Fine.”

     Vergil handed you over to Dante and pulled out the Yamato. With a deep breath, he sliced open a portal and traversed through with Dante right behind him. 

     Once out of the other side, Vergil didn’t even give Dante a chance to think before ripping you from him. Vergil knows that Dante wouldn’t dare hurt you, however, he had an overwhelming urge to keep you far from anyone besides himself. 

     Dante looked around and scratched the stubble on his jaw, “Uh, Vergil… This ain’t the shop,” the pair was standing where they had entered nearly twelve hours prior. 

     With a low mumble, Vergil avoided looking at Dante, “I don’t have the energy for that…”

     Dante bit his tongue hard--all he wanted to do was poke fun at Vergil and would have if Vergil was in a better headspace. Instead, he just simply nodded at Vergil, “Well… I can call a ride if you want..? I’m sure Nico wouldn’t mind picking us up--given she’ll want a cut of the pay.”

     “She can have my half; I got what I came for,” money was the furthest thing from the blue devil's mind, all he could think about was that he finally had you back.

     “Alright--you sure you’re okay with--”

     “Yes.”

     Dante let out a small ‘heh’ and pulled out his very well-protected phone.

     Nico showed up around an hour later. Once stopped, the door swung open, and out strode Nero. 

     He looked over at his father and uncle, who were sitting on a ledge and the floor respectively.

     “Holy shit, you actually found them? Nico said that Dante-- I didn’t believe her…” Nero extended a hand to help the very sore Dante off the ground. Without so much as a nod to his son, Vergil got into the van.

     Dante groaned and cracked his back, “Don’t take it personally, kid. Vergil’s in a weird mood.”

     “What happened? I saw the folder that was thrown on the floor of the garage, but--” the pair began to walk to the van side-by-side, “I don’t get how you knew.”

     “When we get back… or after I take a hot shower and nap… I’ll fill you in on the details at some point,” Dante slumped down on the couch in the van that was opposite Vergil.

     Before Nero could protest at Dante’s wait time, the younger twin was sound asleep--even snoring a little.

     With everyone in the van, Nico began to drive; despite Nero still standing. Before the youngest Sparda descendant went up to his seat, he turned to Vergil, “You uh… gonna be okay?” Nero felt awkward asking the typically stoic man such an out-of-character question.

     Vergil looked up at Nero with a confused tilt to his brow then back down to you, “In time, yes.”

     Nero nodded--shocked that he got anything other than ‘yes’ or the silent treatment--and went up to the passenger seat for the rest of the quiet ride back to the shop.

==

     The moment the van stopped; even before Nico had turned off the ignition, Vergil got up and was out the van door. He thinks he heard someone say something as he left, but he didn’t care. All he wanted right now was to be in his room with you in his arms. Quickly and quietly he headed up the stairs and into his room.

     The eldest son prides himself on being the cleanest member of the Sparda line; however with you being gone, he had stopped caring about such trivial things. The room had quite a few sets of worn and unworn outfits strewn about. Several cups of half-drank liquids sat on various tabletops. The room wasn't messy by normal standards but Vergil was far from "normal".

      He walked over to his bed. Vergil moved you so he could support your body with one arm and fixed the disheveled mess that was his bed. Once satisfied, he set you down on the bedding; he noticed that you were filthy --which wasn’t surprising due to what had occurred. 

     Vergil hesitantly left his room to get some warm water, rags, and some medical supplies. It took him a moment to figure out what to grab--he wasn’t the best at treating wounds, he hasn’t ever needed to know such things; so he was as methodical as possible. Seeing how Vergil was struggling to find what he needed, Nero silently helped his father gather what was needed. Vergil gave Nero a solid nod in acknowledgment of his help.

     Upon returning to his room, Vergil began to gently wash your dirt and blood-ridden skin. While doing so, he noticed his hands had begun to shake. Furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in confusion, he stopped momentarily. Vergil never shakes, so what was going on?

     Using exhaustion as an explanation, he dismissed it with a shake of his head. Vergil continued to clean your body. You had visibly become slimmer from the several months of entrapment. His eyes moved up to your face, you were still sound asleep but he noticed that you looked deathly sick.  

     He took the rag and rung it out. Your body was cleaned; however,  you were still covered in wounds. Vergil knew that he couldn’t do anything for the copious amounts of bruises you had, so he moved to take care of several burn marks you had obtained; most of which were around your neck from Dante pulling on your demonic prison. Vergil put some burn cream onto his fingers and softly rubbed it on the marks. Letting out a shaky sigh, he moved on to the last thing he had to tend to before dressing you.

     The Yamato might not have mortality wounded your capsule, but it seemed to have nicked your midline all the way up--the cut was too thin and clean to have been from Dante’s Devil Sword. After wiping his hands off, he applied an antibiotic gel along the cut. If you had been awake, you would have cussed him out, no doubt. The thought brought a small smirk to Vergil’s face. 

     He grabbed the gauze and began to dress the wound; however, Vergil stopped. His vision had become blurry and his mind went blank. During these past four months, he had cried a few times, but it was always controlled and well-restrained. 

     Right now, though? He felt like screaming. He felt like weeping until he became ill. All he wanted to hear was your voice, to feel your lips on his face, to be held as he sobbed uncontrollably. Vergil felt like a little kid again; alone and afraid of losing those he loves. A whimpering hiccup brought him out of his thoughts as he looked up at you. Confusion sunk in as he saw you were still fast asleep. 

     He froze. The noise had come from him. Vergil tried to suppress his tears; he hard-shut his eyes, tried angrily furrowing his brow, and even tried looking upwards; nothing worked. 

     Nothing could stop the storm of pitiful tears that leaked from his tired eyes. So, he worked through them and finished patching you up the best the blue devil could. 

     Another strained whimper left his lips as he straightened himself back up. You didn’t live at the DMC with the brothers, so Vergil did not have any of your clothes. He knew he couldn’t just leave you naked (since anyone could walk in and see you) so he rustled through his clothing. Vergil didn’t have much in the sense of “casual” clothes which made this difficult. 

     Eventually, he decided on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a sleeveless black turtleneck. He managed to get you into the much-too-big clothing and tucked you into the duvet of his bed. 

     Vergil spent the rest of the night by your side holding your hand as he quietly grieved.

==

     Sunlight spilled into the dark room through the slightly ajar curtains. It was nearly noon and Vergil hadn’t moved from his spot next to you. Nero and Dante had both peaked in to check on you and the visibly exhausted hunter a few times… which they only got stared at in response.

     The blue devil could hear your heart and your breathing just fine; but, was unable to keep himself from thinking you weren’t going to make it. He had convinced himself that this whole ordeal was his fault. 

      “Maybe if you hadn’t had such a noticeable trinket on you wouldn’t have been taken.” he thought, “or was it because you have been associated with our cursed bloodline that this happened?”

     He felt a stinging in his eyes start once more, “I should have been there. It is my job to protect you and keep you safe. I failed you just like I have to everyone else,” his lips quivered as his breath stuttered, “Perhaps you would be better off without me,” Vergil’s chest heaved and his face twisted into a grimace. Once more, he had lost control of his emotions as he unintentionally tightened his grip on your hand.

     “You trying to break my fingers?” a hoarse sarcastic voice snapped Vergil to attention. You had woken up and were staring at him with a gentle concerned crease of your brow.

     Without a word, Vergil pulled you into a tight hug. Even if he wanted to say anything, he couldn’t; not in the distraught state he was in. Although you were still weak, you began to rub his back as you hugged. You relished in his scent and touch; something that felt like a distant memory while ensnared in the demon’s body. 

     “Miss me?” you heard and felt him shutter. He pushed further into you making you acutely aware of the large slice on your midsection, “Ow, fuck--”

     Vergil left the hug upon realizing what happened and, still unable to speak, pointed to your torso. With unsteady hands, you rolled up the very loose black fabric, “Oh…”

     Pulling the shirt back down, you looked at Vergil. His face was puffy and his eyes were bloodshot with prominent tear stains running down his face. Slowly you reached for your lover’s face and gently thumbed one of the tears from his cheek. 

     Vergil grabbed your hand and held it to his lips, just setting them against your cold skin. His expression was a mixture of painful sadness and overbearing happiness. A crease formed on his brow as he shut his eyes tightly. You could see Vergil trying to piece together what to say. 

     A few brief moments passed before he spoke, scarcely louder than a whisper, “I thought…” you felt his lips shake against your clammy skin, “I thought you were…” Vergil couldn’t bring himself to finish his words.

     You sadly smiled as you used your held hand to thumb over his stiff fingers, “and leave you alone? Not in a million years, Vergil.”

     The tremble in his lips worsened as his lips gently kissed your hand, stifling a whimper.

     After he let go of your hand, you moved to sit on the edge of the bed allowing your feet to dangle off the side, “Come here..?” you beckoned to your unraveling lover. 

     “Are you sure--I do not want to hurt you again,” his response was sheepish and meek.

     Not taking no for an answer, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto your lap. Having the large devil on your lap would have typically been uncomfortable; but, your want to hold him and comfort him in such a distraught state overrode every other thought.

     He hesitantly straddled your lap. You noticed his uncertainty and gently pulled him closer, “Let me hold you, please?” you were trying to reassure him. 

     Which seems to have worked; he hastily put his arms around you. He held on tightly grabbing wads of the loose shirt’s fabric as if he were actively being pulled off of you. Since he was taller than you, his head rested atop yours. The side of your face was resting on his chest and your arms were wrapped around him as you began to rub his back once more. 

     The man’s breathing became ragged as he fought with himself and his emotions. 

     “Vergil, it’s going to be okay,” you lovingly rubbed your face against his chest, hearing his heart racing, “you can let go now.”

     This small set of words finally undid the eldest son of Sparda.

     You had seen Vergil cry before, but only in small quiet amounts; never as raw and shattered as this. The hunter began to shake within your grasp. The only noise coming from the man was loud uncontrolled sobs and sharp breathing. His grip on the shirt had become a death grip; holding on tight enough to rip through the tightly woven fabric. A deep rumble came from his chest as it seemed even his demon was crying out in anguish.

     Deep within, you knew that these tears were for much more than your own disappearance. You knew that this strong soul had finally reached a breaking point. Closing your eyes, you pushed yourself into him and held him tightly, whispering sweet words of comfort to him. Gently and slowly, you kneaded against his back with your hands; knowing that it would comfort the blue devil. 

     Eventually, his cries slowed and his grip loosened.  Vergil’s body shifted as he longingly kissed the top of your head. Letting out a heavy sigh and shutter, he leaned back. You smiled at him. Vergil smiled in return, his eyes creased at the edges pushing the few remaining tears from his eyes. He took one of his hands and placed it on your bicep. The other found its way to your face. He thumbed over your cheek and lips with an undertone of uncertainty and disbelief; that this was real, that you were home.

     You leaned into the warmth of his palm, “I missed you too, Vergil…” a wave of a soft sadness mixed with love washed over you, “so very much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: Hope y’all like the art with this one--admittedly this would’ve been done much sooner if I hadn’t decided to add that. The scales and all textures are not things I drew; they are all sampled from real things--the feet, for example, are textured using orange peel(s). All colors (except the maroon scales) are from Nelo Angelo and both of Vergil’s sin triggers--I did change some saturations, but the basis for them is all from the stoic man’s palettes. ⏳⏳⏳ I swear the next thing is not going to be more angsty/sad Vergil. I actually was writing this alongside “What Would They Think”--I’d get bored with one and write some for the other lol. Hopefully, you enjoyed this story! Much love y’all (I’m thinking something with V or Nero next; which, Nero’s H/Cs are the hardest thing for me to write for some fucking reason lmao idk what is going on with that.)

==

Bonus short story that I wrote as a warm-up; post story stuff:

==

     Nero walked down the stairs of the Devil May Cry with a prominent dejected expression. With a small bounce to his step, the youngest Sparda descendant walked towards the fridge; however, an ‘ahem’ cough caught his attention. 

    J.D. Morrison was sitting on the edge of Dante’s desk smoking his typical stogie. The said owner of the desk was sitting there with a manilla folder in hand, staring at Nero. 

     Dante set the folder down, “So--” he leaned back in his chair, “How is he?” 

     Nero quickly glanced between the two, unsure of what he should and could say in front of the company broker.

     The red devil raised a brow, “Well?”

     “Uh-” Nero centered himself into Dante’s view, “He’s okay. Nothing’s really changed much.”

     Dante slowly nodded and bit his tongue in thought for a moment, “... They awake?”

     “No, doesn’t seem like they’ve even moved.”

     “Damn it,” the younger twin sighed, “Let’s hope they do soon; I can’t stand seeing him like that.”

     Nero shrugged, “At least Vergil’s not going to be a dick anymore.”

     Dante laughed, “Careful, you might jinx us.” he grabbed the folder he had previously been paging through, “Interested in doing a job with me--takin’ Verge’s place for now?”

     Nero took the folder from his uncle. After paging through it and reading it a bit Nero smiled slightly, “Sure, why not. Anything to get me out of here.”

     “Good--” Dante turned his attention to Morrison, “We’ll take it.”

     The broker smiled, “Glad to hear it. When--”

     A loud abrupt noise cut off J.D.’s question. It had come from above them and Nero bolted to the stairs.

     “Wait! Nero-” Dante got up fast enough to knock his chair over. He tackled Nero into the wall, preventing his ascension upward, “Stop.”

     “Let go of me!” Nero shoved Dante off of him.

     Dante put Nero in a sloppy cradle pin; holding him still, “Listen for a minute.”

     The young hunter stopped struggling. He furrowed his brow as he whispered, “Is that crying? ”

     With the same volume, Dante responded, “Yeah, it’s from Vergil.”

     They untangled from the floor and stood up. Both of them decided to grab their gear before Dante acknowledged the semi-confused Morrison, “Let’s take this somewhere else--give Vergil his privacy.”

     “Fine by me,” he stood up from the desk, “Although it would be nice to get an explanation once we leave.”

     Dante nodded with an unintentional smile, “Not much to say… Just a long overdue reunion.”

==

ENDING NOTES (FOR THE SECOND STORY): I figure that Vergil and Dante might not get along per se, but are able to be kind of nice to each other. Giving each other support or defense when needed; they are family after all. (This is why Dante wants to leave)

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[arcticlegend]

Like the Movie

(Trigger warning: Death)

This was a short drabble I wrote because I watched a scene from fox and the hound and cried like a little bitch. So here's this mess lol lemme know if you liked it, if there's any critiques, or if you just want to interact! I love talking to people!

It was from a movie she had watched as a child, something about a fox and a hound. He remembered her talking about how the two were an odd pair, how the hunting dog shouldn’t have been friends with the fox for they would inevitably become enemies. The story felt not too different from their own.

She was a human, a weak, frail human that didn’t have much time left. There were plenty of reasons to stay away, plenty of reasons to pass her by and keep to himself, but when he saw the book in her hands, it became impossible, his curiosity burning too hot within him to resist.

“What are you reading?” He asked almost timidly.

She thought it was just as odd as he did and he suddenly felt ashamed for his awkward attempt at conversation. Instead of brushing him off, however, she happily showed him the cover of the novel she held.

“It’s a book of Robert Browning’s poetry! I had heard from your brother that you liked Blake… So I started sifting through some different works and settled for this one. He’s very good!”

He felt strange, delighted that you would develop a love for poetry because of him, yet thought it odd that it was because of him.

“I’ve read My Last Duchess… its not what I expected… His works are very dark, but I really like them!”

He stood before her grave, eyes caught on the name carved into the stone. He held the Yamato in one hand, her recently named “new favorite” book in the other. She was gone, slipped away while he had been out on an errand. He thought by some strange hope that she would just magically get better, as if some deity above were listening to his pleas, but instead he was spurned. She was taken away before he could even say goodbye.

“Goodbye may seem forever, Farewell is like the end…”

He recalled the song she would sing sometimes, the one from the film, and heard himself saying it without his control. His voice breaking under the pressure of his grief.

“We met it seems, such a short time ago… You looked at me, needing me so…”

Her eyes peered up at him beneath her lashes, hair slightly disheveled from sleep.

“Do you ever sleep, Vergil? You’re always watching… like some angel.”

He sat down beside her on the bed, the plush, white comforter like clouds beneath him. Her skin was paler than usual, the dark rings under her eyes more prominent.

“I do. You just aren’t awake to see, foolish girl.”

He says it endearingly, brushing a few locks out of her face. It made her smile, that soft, sad smile she gave when she remembered that she couldn’t give them the future they wanted. A future together was never meant to be.

“Yet from your sadness, our happiness grew…”

You both sat outside, overlooking the lake, the colors of the sunset rippled over the dark blue, some fish breaking the patterns with excited tails. The birds chirred to each other, the cicadas started to stir.

“What do you think it would be like? To have a family? To make one…? I know it’s a sensitive topic for you…”

He gave you a look, trying not to give you the impression that he pitied you, but understood why. It was a sensitive topic to him. It was never something he wanted to discuss as he never thought it possible for him to start a family. He never considered it… at least until he met you. How cruel it seemed that the one person he connected with, the one person he finally felt safe enough to let into his life, wouldn’t last long in it. She asked him because she wanted to think about what it would have been like. She wanted him to tell her how it could’ve been if she weren’t slowly fading away.

“I’m unsure… I have a son, but I am ashamed I didn’t play a bigger role in his life. I couldn’t guide him and in the end, I only ever hurt him.”

He paused, not wanting to get on the wrong track. This was for you to think about in your final moments, for you to dream about, for you couldn’t actually live it.

“If I could start again, it would be different. I would want a family I could protect… together. I wouldn’t want to be apart from them.”

He had gave her shoulder a light squeeze, hoping she understood he spoke of her.

“I’m… not sure how to express it, but I believe it would be a wonderful thing, to be a part of something, something I belong to.”

Tears had welled in her eyes at his dreadful answer, yet she smiled as if it were gold.

“And I found out… I needed you too…”

He held her in his arms, swaying to the soft sounds of the violins over the radio. Her legs were weaker that day, so she had difficulty, but he guided her as best he could, holding her as if she were about to fall, as if she could disappear any second.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Vergil. I’m glad I picked up that book.”

He felt it, that itch in the back of his throat, the pressure in his sinuses that tried to conjure tears. Successfully, he held them back, wanting to keep this moment happy for the both of them, before she inevitably grew tired and needed to stop. He nestled his face into the crook of her neck, smelling the soft smells of her favorite perfume, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his cheek. He smiled softly as she returned the gesture, nuzzling her own cheek against him, giggling playfully.

“Your breath tickles, Verge!”

“I remember how we used to play…”

He kissed her tenderly, on his hands and knees above her, her thin fingers weaving into his hair. Their lips a symphony, they moved together, synchronized and full of passion. It wasn’t a normal passion, not one of fiery need as much as it was slow and intimate. He needed her to know how much he needed her, how much he’d continue to need her after she was gone.

“I love you… I love you, Vergil…”

Her words rippled through him like the water on the lake, the rasp of her voice tugging the fire in his gut sharply. He filled her, gently as if she could break, knowing full well that she wanted more of him.

He trailed his kisses down her jaw, his fingers interlocking with yours as he bottomed out, savoring the way she moaned, how her lips had parted in a silent “O.”

I need you. I need you. Please don’t go…

“I recall… those rainy days.”

He stood outside her door, listening to her weep into her pillow. It was if she were trying to remain reserved, as if she were scared he would hear, her muffled cries escaping and burrowing deep into his ears… into his heart. It tore him apart. It made him sick how powerless he felt. All the strength he had acquired, all the power he sacrificed countless lives to achieve… and for what? You still lie on that bed crying out, asking why you had to die. It made him wish he had learned something that could heal a person rather than break them.

It was a war in his mind deciding whether or not to turn the knob and console you or let you have your space. He was that way. Sometimes he needed time to think, to stew over whatever conflict was in his mind and try to find a solution.

“I don’t want to leave…. I don’t want to leave him… I can’t…”

He turned the door knob, opening it with a soft click.

“The fire’s glow… that kept us warm.. “

She grinned ear to ear when she saw the gift, not so different from the book of Blake’s poems that he carried in his coat pocket, it was a book of Browning’s works, one that had a similar cover to his own. The designs on the cover were gold and in the center was the letter of her first name. It was meant to be special, to connect the two of them, remind them of what brought them together in the first place.

“Vergil! It’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

She threw her arms around him, her frail fingers digging into the material of his coat, pressing into his muscles so delicately. It felt amazing, her touch reminding him that she was still with him, that nothing could take this away. He wished he could feel her embrace forever, making him hold onto her tighter when she tried to pull away.

“I’m glad. I’m glad you like it.”

She finally was able to pull back, looking up at him with those tired, doe eyes. He basked in the light that shined in them, loving how full of life they were. A part of him, deep down, dreaded seeing them without it, terrified of seeing them lifeless and dull.

There was no time to think about that now… All he could focus on was how warm you were in his arms and how happy you were flipping through the pages of your new favorite book.

“And… Now I find…, we're both alone.”

He made it back home, her little apartment she owned in town, not too far away from Dante’s shop. He had needed to take care of a job with Dante and also bring back her favorite snacks from the store. It took longer than he wanted to, the demons being more of a problem than either of them could’ve imagined, stealing away what little time he had left with her.

When he didn’t see her in the living room, he thought nothing about it, believing that she was probably resting. The only thing that accompanied him were the sounds of the brown paper bags crackling as he set them on the counter. He wondered for a moment whether or not she ate before she went to sleep. Of course he didn’t want to wake her, but something felt wrong in the pit of his gut and he wanted any excuse to check on her. After putting away the food and snacks he bought, he immediately went up the stairs, not bothering to take his boots off. He hoped she’d forgive the bit of dirt on the carpet.

Something felt off. The hallway felt too wide, the air felt too thick, and the upstairs felt too dark even though the lights were on.

No!

He pushed open her door, peaking inside. Her room light was off, but the light from the hallway poured into her room, spilling over the bed and rolling over her body as she rested underneath the blanket. She was on her side, the plush comforter up to her chin. It made him feel relief in the moment, yet he needed to be sure, so he sat on the end of the bed, knowing she’d sit up and smile at him. He knew that she would wake up and tell him he was so rude for almost sitting on her feet.

She didn’t. She didn’t move a muscle.

Panic stabbed deep into every bone in his body, bile rising in his throat.

"Sweetheart?" he asked, trying to hide the anxiety that tried to fracture his voice. “I’m home. I got what you asked for.”

Nothing. No response. Fuck. Was she breathing? She had to be breathing.

He pulled the blanket down off of her, thinking she’d groan and pull it right back up, but she didn’t, her fingers stiff. It made Vergil reel back in shock for only a moment before he jumped back into action.

“Baby!? Darling! Come on… You’re okay, don’t do this to me…”

He checked for a pulse, but knew there’d be none for closer inspection of her face made it clear that she had to be gone. She was blue and her skin was unnaturally cool, her lips were parted and her eyes were open just slightly.

“No… No!”

What was he supposed to do now? CPR? She gave him instruction, but he wasn’t sure if he could do it right or without hurting her. Hurting her? She’s gone….

“Don’t leave me… Not like them… Don’t leave me alone again… Please, my dearest…”

She did. She was already gone.

“Goodbye may seem forever. Farewell is like the end… But in my heart is a memory… and there… you'll always be.”

He knelt down in front of the marble stone, unable to stand as he ran through all of the memories like a marathon. His heart pounded in his chest as it seemed to have been moments ago when he had her wrapped around him, talking to him, giving as much as she could to make him happy, to make both of them happy. This was all that was left after everything… a stone and her memory. He was scared to lose it, wanting to run through it like a recording, rewinding and rewinding until it burrowed in, never to come out.

“Be safe, Vergil. I love you.”

Her last words rang in his ears as he looked down at the mound of soil he knelt in, not minding how it dirtied his leather pants, caring more about being closer to her. His grief felt frantic, like she needed to pop out from somewhere and tell him it was just a prank, that it was all a prank orchestrated by his foolish younger brother. He wanted this to be a joke.

It wasn’t. It was over like he knew it always would. He knew this was coming and it was foolish of him to think this way, but that human heart of his still desperately cried out for the feeling of her skin against his own, for the sight of her excited and passionate rambling, and the soft way she sang that dreadful poem.

It would take time… a long time to get over it, to move on from the pain of the empty hole in his heart. She wouldn’t want him to hurt. She would be upset If she knew he was in pain because of her. He thought about the song, about how though they wont see each other again, she’d always be with him in his heart, watching over him.

“There you’ll always be.” He said one final time, sliding his hand over the name.

[devilmayfamily]

Finding Family Preview

The story is a Vergil x Reader story and the events take place after dmc 5 with some pre-dmc 3 events sprinkled in to establish the relationship between Vergil and Reader. Here, is a snippet from one of those chapters, enjoy!!

Night began to come upon the two of you, having spent most of the afternoon snuggled on your couch reading. You had gotten up at some point to make dinner, the two of you now sitting at your window, bowls of curry and rice sitting on the window sill as you looked out at the night sky. Vergil’s attention however was on you.

He was thinking about how he got into this position, sharing a meal with you, cuddling on your couch, domestic life. He was supposed to be harnessing the power of his father right now but instead he was playing husband to a woman he just met three weeks prior.

‘You know what she means to us,’ his demon echoed in his head.

Vergil had been ignoring the beast, trying to keep him down as much as he could. There were times however when it did win like just today in the marketplace when Vergil wrapped an arm around you as you talked to a man who, while only asking for where you got the papaya's you’d bought earlier in the trip, seemed to be stepping over a boundary Vergil’s demon had set around the two of you and it was quite a large bubble the demon had procured in his mind.

He would kick himself if he could for staying as long as he has, forgetting his original mission.

You looked over at Vergil, smiling at seeing him seemingly lost in thought as he looked at you. You reach out a hand, cupping the side of his face. He seems to purr, leaning into your touch. “What have you been thinking about all this time?”

Vergil hums, turning his head slightly in your palm, your thumb ideally rubbing small circles on his cheek. “I realize I’ve been here too long but I don’t seem to want to leave you.”

“Gone soft for me?” you tease.

The purr grows louder, Vergil trying to quickly quiet it. Curious, you move your fingers just behind Veril’s ear, softly scratching the area behind it. The purr grows, Vergil leaning into your hand. You chuckle, stopping the action and letting your hand fall back to your lap.

Vergil opens his eyes, just slightly, looking up at you as you smile down at the man. He scoots closer to you, sitting up and pressing his forehead to yours. He reaches up, placing his hand on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He nuzzles into you, lips daring to get closer to your own.

“May I?” Vergil asks.

You nod, quickly feeling Vergil press his lips to yours. You kiss him back, deepening the kiss. The hand on the back of your neck keeps you in place, even when you feel the need for air. You grip on Vergil’s shoulder, the man finally pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“You mean something to me,” Vergil whispers. He was silently hoping you didn’t hear him but the breath he feels you let out tells him otherwise. 

You smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You mean something to me too.”

[st-hedge]

It wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card that I’d draw V again. Anyway I’ll go ahead ramble in the tags

[fugeoni666]

-It was a sight to behold, Vergil, taking a nap while the dust light slowly shine away from his bed, his face is peaceful, his breathes steady, sleeping soundly- "You're home, brother, you are being protected here" "They said the devil may cry when they lost their loved one, but now they may cry when they happy to reunite with their long lost brother for so long, a dream that's finally be true."

[soybean-official]

Coloring style experiment with the sparda sisters! Dante design by me, Vergil by @/amamozarte !!!

[storytellering]

Vernero week, day 7 - Heart

[polarisbibliotheque]

Vergil and his s/o taking care of sick Nero

Pairing: Vergil x reader;

Summary: You and Vergil are cooking for a family dinner with Nero after he comes back from a job, but you all are taken by surprise by a sudden sickness. Now it's time for you and Vergil to fill your role as parents - just like Sparda and Eva once did.

Author's notes: This idea was part of this answered ask, but I decided to make its own thing 'cause I have no self control whatsoever and it turned out bigger than it should. I'm bringing you wholesome father Vergil, reader parent and Nero son - I've recently got sick and It's good to know we have someone to care for us. I can't count on too many people, but at least I know I can count on my mom.

Guess I'm in the mood of dreaming with a loving family, even if I'd have to build my own. If you too are like that, don't give up on building your own loving family if that is important to you - all dreams are valid and you shouldn't allow anyone to ruin them.

And also snuck some Apollo and Artemis references there :3 Trigger Warnings: Nero almost feels sick once - there's no description of it, but it is hinted as Vergil asks his s/o to bring something to help Nero while he is unwell. The scene cuts right after to them both taking care of the kid ;)

“Hey there! Sorry I’m late…”

Nero almost stumbled back home, you and Vergil stopping your cooking to look at him.

“Are those the eggs you asked for, y/n? Dunno if it’s the ones you buy… Normally…”

You did your best only to smile and not let out a laugh. Nero was completely drenched in demon blood, dripping it on the wooden floor, with Red Queen still flaming and strapped on his back while he carefully held a pack of dozen eggs you asked him to buy for you before he went to work.

In your eyes, he looked so cute. Like a half demon kid with the strength of an army and the very fires of Hell in his soul, bringing home a cute puppy and asking his parents to keep it. But you could notice Vergil’s cold eyes scrutinizing the mess his son was making in the living room.

“They are perfect, Nero. Thank you so much, you always help me a lot.” You immediately wiped your hands clean, walking towards him and pulling a proudly smiling Nero to kiss a clean spot of skin in his forehead.

He seemed weirdly hot, but you dismissed it for a while. Nero was out there fighting and slaying demons, his body was bound to rise its temperature – also, you had noticed on Vergil their bodies seemed to run a little hotter than plain humans.

Something you always wanted to ask him about, but never got the opportunity.

“Now, now. Stop dripping blood on the floor and go have a shower. You smell terrible, kid.” You chastised him, making Vergil look a little less dissatisfied. He knew it would be his job to clean the floor – you had already made most of the cooking, it was the least he could do.

“Ah, sorry… I was, ya know. There was a bunch of demons to beat up today!” Nero flared in red, and he had a cheeky smile plastered on his lips, making you giggle in response. That only made his smile broader, while Vergil couldn’t stop his own expression from allowing a slight adoration on his own lips.

“Like father, like son, I guess.” You looked back at your lover, winking at Vergil and making both father and son completely out of words and actions.

“Ya know, had to do a job well done… It pays better.” Nero sighed and ran towards his room in order to have his shower. “Gonna wash all this grime off in a sec! Don’t have dinner without me!”

“We will wait, dear!” You answered in a sing-song voice, making Nero practically jump inside the bathroom to take his shower as fast as he could.

As the water fell on his head and painted the floor with red, Nero’s hair gradually became white again. He scrubbed his sore muscles with the floral soap you usually bought – the scents Kyrie also loved buying – and sighed in relief as the warm water made the pain disappear for a while.

Nero could feel his heart beating faster as he tried to wash himself as quickly as he could while seizing the relaxation of the water at the same time. A little headache installed itself at the back of his head, but all he could think about was how excited he was to have dinner with you and Vergil.

For years, all he wished for was a family. Nero remembered when he was a teen in Fortuna, already too big for his own bed, curled up with a pillow while staring out the window and asking the Moon if he could ever find his parents.

Not that Kyrie’s and Credo’s parents weren’t good to him – they were, but Nero never really felt like a part of the family. That was why he never saw Kyrie as his real sister and Credo was more like a mentor from the Order – even if he didn’t obey Credo that much. His adoptive parents were good, but they were too… Polite. Almost as if Nero was a guest, an outsider they should care for, not really a loved son.

But you made him feel different. He thought he would feel weird with Vergil as his father and Dante as his uncle, but, well… Their entire household was weird. They all had different traumas and different ways of showing affection – and then, there was you. Your affection was always so direct, so heartwarming.

Nero felt he could let his guard down around you and you’d never allow anything to hurt him. He didn’t have to live in survival and self-protection mode when he was around you, for he knew you would do that for him.

Feeling that was a sort of… Relief. Nero knew you and Vergil had his back and would never let him down – and that, on his book, was what families were about.

“Hey, kiddo! Everything alright? You’re taking a while on that shower!” He was brought back from his thoughts as he heard you knocking on the bathroom’s door.

“Yeah, sorry! Just a sec, y/n, I’ll be out!” Nero stuck his head out of the box to hear you better, managing to hear a quick laugh.

“Ok. Just don’t take too long, or you’re paying the water bill!”

“Ha, fine! I’ll be out soon, I swear!” Shaking his head while laughing, Nero massaged his shoulders for a while before turning the water off. He felt a weird kind of pain in his muscles, but it should be nothing…

…Right?

*

“Nero, could you please put the plates on the table? I will help y/n serving dinner…”

“Yeah… Sure thing… Dad…”

Both Vergil and you turned around with eyebrows furrowed to check him out. Nero’s speech was slightly slurred and, as soon as you saw him, you knew something was wrong. His steps were unsure, and Nero blinked too much, almost as if he was trying to focus on a spot he was staring on the floor as he approached the dinner table.

“Nero, are you…? Verge! Hold him!”

You didn’t even have to scream that order: as soon as Nero’s steps faltered and he was about to fall, Vergil moved faster than the eyes could see and held his son up. Running towards them, you immediately put your hand on Nero’s forehead, stating what you had suspected before.

“He’s burning. He needs to sit down.”

“I’m taking him to the couch.” Vergil’s words were quick and somber, as he dutifully held his son in his arms.

“I can walk… I’m fine…” Nero mumbled, trying to fight Vergil’s hands and walk by himself, but his feet clearly didn’t answer properly to his commands.

“You are not fine. Stop trying to foolishly hold on to your pride.” Vergil said almost between his teeth – not really angry at Nero, but angry at the whole situation. When Nero got sick, he wasn’t too versed on human medicine… Taking care of his son was something only you could do with excellence, while Vergil just sat and watched.

And he hated that.

“Like father, like son.” You sighed once more, running to the kitchen in order to turn off the stove and make sure nothing was going to burn.

“I’m not… Holding on… To pride…” Nero thumped down on the couch, almost looking like a sack of potatoes. “I can…”

“You can’t. Period.” Vergil sat at the edge of the couch, trying to hold Nero upright.

It was quite a scene, actually. You never thought you would see one of the Sparda’s on their pajamas, let alone two. And in such an ordinary situation like that.

You almost laughed as Nero clearly wanted to answer Vergil, almost hearing his voice saying something along the lines of “you didn’t even know what I was going to say”, but Nero suddenly sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.

Both you and Vergil stopped, eyes paying attention to Nero’s every move. You waited as he closed his eyes and slightly opened his mouth, starting to blink a little too much once again and breathe heavily.

“Nero…?” Vergil tried, but he didn’t answer. He placed his palm on Nero’s forehead, feeling the skin burning while also holding his son up. Nero seemed to lay his weight on his father’s palm – and Vergil wouldn’t let him fall on the floor. “Y/n! Bring a bucket!”

You didn’t even argue – you just moved as fast as you could. Nero needed both of you at that moment, and you would be there.

*

Nero spent the whole night feeling sick and feverish, seeming as if he was going to pass out and almost fainting a couple of times. You, as always, stood by his side, ordering Vergil around to help you care for Nero’s human body – now stricken by illness and needing you.

As his fever didn’t fade away at first, you asked Vergil for help to put him under the shower again – wearing only his underwear as you adjusted the water temperature. Nero complained about how cold it felt, even if it was good enough for someone without fever. You remained with him, trying to calm him down, holding Nero’s hands while checking if he wasn’t going to faint.

Asking Vergil to warm up some water with lemon, ginger and honey, you helped Nero to dry, fluffing up his white hair and seeing how he smiled like a goofy puppy as his high fever had been washed away. You helped Nero put on a comfortable and warm pajama’s – even if he insisted he didn’t need any assistance – and held his arm as both of you slowly walked back to the kitchen.

You gave him medicine, Vergil gave him the tea. You kept checking Nero’s temperature from time to time with your hand, as Vergil would always use a thermometer – it was only when Nero was burning up with fever that his father could notice it from just touching.

You insisted Nero should eat something – even if he complained he didn’t feel like it. Vergil was a little more emphatic than you, but eventually managed to convince his son to eat a few toasts with butter and jam after he himself decided to have a few along with tea.

“Who would’ve known? Nero’s tea party!” You giggled while serving tea, toasts, jam and butter to all of you – the carefully planned and prepared dinner forgotten in the fridge, as you asked Vergil to put it away while caring for Nero.

“You guys ‘re the ones who like tea parties…” Nero almost mumbled, his voice too tired to take on his usually lively tone. You wrapped him around a plushy blue blanket, resting a kiss on the top of his fluffy white hair.

“I guess you can enjoy them too, kiddo.” You ruffled his hair a little bit and, instead of complaining like he always did, Nero had a cozy smile on his lips, accepting his 2 a.m tea party with both his parents.

It took a while for his temperature to go back to normal. You and Vergil carried Nero to his bed on his room and you made sure to wrap him around blankets and pillows. He fell asleep almost immediately, his body needing to rest.

“Do you need me to bring anything, love?” Vergil asked almost in a murmur, in order not to wake his son.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay here in case he needs something. Can you put all the dishes away in the kitchen, please…?”

Vergil just acquiesced with his head, planting a long kiss on your forehead – one that made you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You weren’t perfect, but you were family – and that was all the three of you ever wanted.

*

Nero woke up as the sun started to enter his room. It was early – probably too early for him – but he managed to open his eyes anyway. His head hurt and he could remember all the work you both had to take care of him that night.

He wondered if you were sleeping in your room – which would give him an opportunity to make breakfast as a way to thank you and apologize for all the inconvenience, if he could get up.

But, as soon as Nero turned around, he was speechless: you and Vergil were sitting on the small couch of his room – him with arms crossed while you had your head on his shoulder, holding his head leaning on yours. Both of you looked exhausted; your mouth was slightly opened while Vergil had dark stains under his eyes.

Nero furrowed his eyebrows, without being able to pinpoint what the hell was going on with his heart. He thought for sure it had something to do with the illness that struck him so suddenly.

He pretended to be asleep again, though – keeping his eyes barely opened – when he heard Vergil’s alarm go off. It was barely 6 a.m, and both of your started moving as if you hadn’t slept that much.

“Hmmm… What time is it…?” Your voice was slurred and sleepy, one of your hands tugging at Vergil’s shirt.

“Early.” He limited himself to answer, combing his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead once again. “You checked on him earlier while I was sleeping… It is my turn now, love. Rest.”

“You sure…?”

“Hmmm. Sleep now, love.” And, with those words, Vergil got up from his seat while you curled up on the couch to go back into slumber.

Nero had never seen his father so… Human. Vergil looked tired, dragging his dark blue slippers on the floor, approaching the bed as if he hadn’t rested for weeks. Rolling up the sleeves of his dark blue pajama, Vergil laid one of his hands on Nero’s forehead – clearly trying to check the temperature like you did. When he failed, he succumbed to the thermometer while ruffling Nero’s hair to wake him up.

“Hmmm…?” Nero pretended to open his eyes for the first time that morning, only to find a tired Vergil holding one pill in one of his hands and a glass of water in the other.

“It’s time for your medicine, Nero. You can go back to sleep after taking it.”

“Oh. Thanks…” And Nero would’ve taken it by himself if Vergil didn’t help him – just like you did. “And y/n…?”

“Hmmm. Y/n stayed up all night to watch over you while you slept. It’s my turn now.” Vergil’s voice was low, almost soft. “You can rest now.”

“Thanks… You two.”

As Vergil went back to the couch to serve as your pillow, Nero pretended to go back to sleep – but watched you both for a moment. He didn’t notice as some tears started to sparkle in his aquamarine eyes, threatening to overflow in that morning as that golden wave on his chest made him lose his breath for a while.

You were his family… You were his parents. And Nero smiled, while a few tears escaped from his eyes, and he went back to sleep – the Sun bringing what he had always asked the Moon.

His home.

[akumanoken]

Soft vergil domestic fluff in the morning... The dmc writing community know how to treat a girl feeling down

[ber-hadi]

no commission, but request, re Vergil in latex pants🫣🥴🥴

What's your favorite lipstick, man?

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Despite Your Flaws: Vergil x G/N Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil and you are spending a soft moment together; one where Vergil asks a question that has been on his mind since V defeated Urizen.

BEGINNING NOTES: I wrote this while listening to “Our Happy Ending” from Buddy Simulator 1984 (I'll link it below). I highly suggest reading this while listening to it. The song helps set the tone; plus there are no words so it doesn’t mess with your reading (at least that’s how my brain works lmao) and it's short. Quick reminder: Check my H/Cs for what Vergil is wearing--you can find it through the AO3 link below. 🟪💠⬛🟪💠⬛ Vergil x G/N Reader Fluff Not angst per se, but kinda sad Short and cute; at least I think so anyway

==

     The room was quiet except for the faint baroque-style music coming from the record player. In the middle of the room on the queen size mattress were two people; the eldest son of Sparda and you, his beloved muse. The pair were leaning up ever so slightly against the headboard; Vergil had a book in hand while you were studying the former.

     It was the first time in a long time that the both of you took a day off to yourselves; one that was only about relaxing and indulging in each other’s warmth. No training. No paperwork. Nothing. Just the two of you intertwined in one another’s limbs.

     An unintentional quiet delighted hum emanated from you as you mindlessly traced Vergil’s tattoos; something you used to do quite often with V. However, when compared to V, tracing the complete man’s skin was different. 

     He is more muscular than V. Vergil’s skin is much warmer and rougher to the touch; the divots and seemingly random scarring that adorned the pallid skin only added to the sensation. Despite them being the same person, their reactions were almost opposites; V would seemingly melt into your touch, while Vergil tends to flinch and pull away from your soft touches--which you'd never hold against the tormented man, but it was still different. 

     “I do not understand why you do that,” Vergil sighed as he watched your hand travel up his forearm.

     You looked up at him with a raised brow, “Do what?”

     A soft thump came from his book as he shut it, focusing on the conversation, “Trace those.”

     It wasn’t surprising that Vergil disliked his tattoos, not only because of the painful memories that spawned them but because of the man who adorned them before.

     You gently traced down one of the larger lines, “I don’t really have a reason,” your fingers ghosted the back side of his hand and down his knuckles, “Do you want me to stop?”

     Vergil set his cheek against the top of your head and grabbed your hand, “May I ask you something?”

     “Sure.”

     “Do you wish I was-” his brow twitched at his thoughts, “was still him?”

     A small sad frown pulled the corners of your lips down, “What? Who do you mean?”

     “V.”

     You shook your head gently, “No,” your fingers tightened around his, “I like having the entire person; not just half.”

     Vergil stared down at the intertwinement of your hands, “Are you… sure..?”

     “Of course,” you got up and moved to sit on his lap, wanting a better view of your lover, “Why would I want anyone else?”

     “V was much kinder to you,” his eyes avoided yours, “He was more personable… V was raw unfiltered humanity; why wouldn’t you want that?”

     “Because,” you gently pulled one of his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles, whispering softly, “I prefer a man with flaws rather than one who is perfect; if they are perfect, they cannot improve, cannot change. Flaws are what makes someone human, Vergil.”

     He shook his head ‘no’ and looked at you with a furrowed brow, “That doesn’t make sense; V was precisely all of my humanity, how could he not have been human?”

     You gave him a soft comforting smile, “Just because something is labeled as one thing doesn’t mean that it fits said category; you are a prime example.”

     “How so?”

     Your smile widened, “One could label you as a fickle evil man, while all I see is a man who was hurting, who needed help and couldn’t find any; someone who acted out of pure emotion. A man who needed to be cared and loved for.”

     Silence fell back over the room as Vergil mulled over his thoughts and shook his head. 

     “But why do you care for me? After everything that I am responsible for causing? Why wouldn’t you want someone free of those sins?” Vergil’s face was that of curiosity but his voice had an underlying sadness.

     You gently placed your palm on his cheek, rubbing it with your thumb, “Because you deserve it. Because I fell in love with Vergil; both halves of you.”

     He scoffed and turned away from you and your palm.

     “I mean it,” you took your other hand and used it to turn his gaze back to you, holding both sides of his face in your hands, “Despite everything, you still deserve to be loved, to be cared about; no matter what. You are a sweet and loving man, Vergil. I wouldn’t trade you for V, for Urizen, even for the world itself. You mean more than anything else ever has to me, my dear. I would follow you to the ends of the Earth if that is what you wished. I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t regret a single moment spent with you; only that I couldn’t spend more of my time with you.”

     Vergil turned his gaze down a bit, blinking slowly, “That is a dangerous mindset; one that could be taken advantage of, you know that? How do you know that I won’t do so?”

     “I trust you,” you smiled warmly and paused for a moment in thought before smiling wider, “ ‘For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress’.”

     The blue devil smiled and turned his gaze back to you, “Have you forgotten that I am half-devil?”

     “Not in the slightest, in fact,” you squirmed closer to him, placing your forehead against his, “I can hear a loud purring from him.”

     Embarrassment spread across Vergil’s face, “You are hearing things.”

     You decided to ignore his comment, “You know, I like hearing you purr, Vergil. It lets me know that you’re happy, at least to some extent, and that’s all I want; for you to be happy.”

     “With you my love,” Vergil placed a gentle sweet kiss on your lips, “I am in pure bliss.”

==

ENDING NOTES: I have been working on a smutty Vergil fic and needed a break so I just wanted something short, cute, and soft. Also for more context: Vergil will never admit it but he sees/saw V as the "better" half of him. Urizen was a powerful brute but that's not what Vergil wants to be; sure he wants power but a warrior without knowledge is worthless in a fight. 💠💠💠 Hope y'all enjoyed reading and thanks for the support! It truly means a lot to me after all the other fandoms I've been in; ones where it is so toxic that I never shared my stories or art, so it's nice to have a kind community like the DMC one ;)))

==

Link for song: Our Happy Ending: Buddy Simulator 1984

==

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[arcticlegend]

Finding you again

(If there's any grammatical mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know! I'm really rusty and trying to improve! Also, totally writing another part to this!)

(Still taking requests so if anyone wants one, don't hesitate to drop in my asks!)

“Get out of here, filth!”

You swung your blade, gracefully, but with enough force to drive it swiftly through the thin waist of the demon. It’s shrieks and growls echoed through the clearing, claws lashing out at nothing as it began to fade away. More bounded towards you, too eager to sink those thick, black talons into your flesh. You were ready for it; having trained for this since you were a child, your grip strong on the handle of your weapon.

You ducked and spun, slicing the legs clean off the beasts, stomping down on one’s head while you buried the blade in the other’s skull with a sick crack. Blood splashed up over your leg, the warm fluid running thick rivers down your thigh and over the shiny leather of your boots.

“Well!? Anyone else!?”

You unceremoniously removed your blade, having it at the ready since more were on their way. It wasn’t hard to take them out, but something was off.

You didn’t attack the last one, yet it fell into two pieces as if you had brought it down clean between its eyes.

‘Where?’ You thought as you turned around, searching for the possible threat and only found an earthshattering surprise.

It was a man, tall with broad shoulders wearing a long blue coat with elegant embroidery. His white hair was slicked back, some snowy locks falling into his face. Blue eyes bore sharply into you, dissecting you with his gaze. He held a katana in one hand and its scabbard in the other and for a only a moment, you felt concern that he might attack you, only for a moment. It came to you suddenly, feeling every nerve within you spark.

“… Vergil?”

He had stepped into the clearing, his sword cleaned and re-sheathed with a quiet ‘click.’ You couldn’t believe it was him, thinking that he might have been a ghost or some hallucination created by a demon nearby. This had to be some sort of trick. Everyone said the Sparda family was dead! Blade held up and ready for whatever trickery this was a result of, you watched him closely.

He was different… taller. He was a young man now, much more mature than that of the boy you used to know. It was so long ago, remembering how small you both used to be in comparison to how grown up you were today. His jaw had sharpened, shoulders had become more broad. If this wasn’t some sort of dream, he had become very attractive, your eyes having difficulty looking away from the defined tendons of his neck.

“As energetic as always.”

The mouth on him… He always had a bit of an attitude. So what? Was that supposed to tell you anything about the situation you were in? What was the angle? An Ambush? Were you already stuck in whatever illusion this was supposed to be?

You scowled. “I thought you were dead! Where in hell have you been!? What is the meaning of this?” The shock had yet to wear off and you could only feel frustrated by the fact that if he was indeed alive, that he waited until now to show himself. It set aflame an anger in your chest that he bumbled into your job, killed the last of your prey, and pretended that this wasn’t any big deal.

“This isn’t some illusion is it? Some game the left overs are playing? Prove to me that you aren’t some sort of nightmare.”

He scowled, his nose wrinkled in annoyance at the task of having convince you that this wasn’t an act. You kept your blade up, unsure of what he was going to do, but didn’t really have a moment to think. One moment he was a good couple yards away, now he was right behind you. He swept a leg under your feet and knocked you to the ground, which nearly took the breath out of you.

“I’m more interested in what you’ve been up to. Picked up the blade, I see?”

He held his hand out for you to take, but you simply scoffed, batting it away. Yup, it was him alright. His favorite method of knocking you down back in the day, was to quote “sweep you off your feet.” At least it was what your mother said as you recall her laughing while she scolded the young boy.  You didn’t speak as you sheathed your own blade and shoved your hands deep into your pants pockets. Wouldn’t that be interesting? To have an old ghost float back into your life just to bully you for your lackluster swordsmanship? Hilarious.

“Well I can use guns too, but I have a preference for swords. Don’t bother testing it out, I’m still probably worse than you.”

He smirked, just a tug at the corner of his lips, but you couldn’t miss the way his head tipped and his eyes closed. It was just like he used to when you were kids.

“Read it again, Vergil! I love this part!”

“I already read it twice.”

“I know! I just really like when you read it! Mom says she’ll get me this book for my birthday and she’ll read it to me every night!”

“Why do I have to read it again if you plan to hear it so much?”

“Cos! I like when you read it best!”

“You got taller.” He stated as he eyed you. You had, of course, but were still shorter than him by a good foot or so. It was just a funny thing to mention. Growing up, you’d always just thought you’d be shorter than most of the people around you. At almost wasn’t worth pointing out.

“Was I supposed to stay seven years old forever?” You joked as you stepped closer, wanting to get a better look at his fancy coat.  “I thought the same about you. You really shot up, didn’t you?”

There was a short pause in your conversation, just staring at each other. Even though this man had knocked you to the ground in his usual fashion, your mind still fought the idea that he could ever still be alive. Everyone in Red Grave spoke about how no one had made it out. The beloved Sparda family was ash.

“I didn’t think I would find you here.” Again, this man kept stealing your lines.

You shrugged. “Yeah… I didn’t think I’d see you out here either… I mean… I didn’t think I’d see you ever again.”

The gentle breeze caressed the skin of your cheek with cool fingers, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The sounds of the leaves brushing up against each other and their soft ‘hushing’ sounds wafted over the clearing in the quiet dip in your chatting.

“What brought you to this town?” his voice was low, cold, and soft as it rolled through your ears. You savored how time had graced him with such a beautiful voice, daring not to chuckle as you remembered what he used to sound like.

You began to walk, signaling for him to follow along as you found the trail out of the clearing. “I needed an escape. Red Grave was home, but after my mother passed on and my friends left, I decided that it was time for me to move on as well.”

Your life was simple. Never knowing your father, you meandered through life just doing the best that you could, your mother behind you most of the way until she got sick. It inevitably took her and it made you want nothing more than to leave, to escape this massive graveyard of a city. Vergil and Dante, your friends, and now your mother.  There just wasn’t anything left for you anymore. Nothing but loss and pain left in those charred remains of a house, that stone cross…

“Do you… need somewhere to stay? You aren’t a local so I’m assuming you don’t have anywhere to retire to?”

He gave you a look, one that was unsure or nervous, his eyes flitting to somewhere on the left, probably thinking about whether or not he should. It was a pretty crazy thing to do, yet you wanted a chance to speak to him, be close to him… to find out what really happened the day of the attack. It was a chance to catch up with your old friend and sate your burning curiosity.

“No, I have nowhere to stay yet. I was on my way to find one. You offering?”

Would he take you up on it if you were? Would he think you weird for offering in the first place? It was just an old friend offering shelter to someone who obviously needs it.

“Yeah, I suppose I am. Stay as long as you like. After all, it sounds like we have some catching up to do.”  

His expression was quizzical, as if he couldn’t quite figure out why after all these years you’d just let him waltz into your home and not seem to mind at all. He wouldn’t be wrong in thinking that way. He might as well have been a stranger. He could have ulterior motives that could end up putting you in an early grave and yet… you find that you cannot deny him. Fire rushed in your veins at the mere thought of him staying in your house much the way your head felt, still high off the fact he was still alive.

The walk home was quiet, nothing but the sounds of your footsteps and the chortling of birds to accompany you. It was getting late, the sun was beginning to set and the purples and oranges mixed with the dark green leaves on the trees. The chilly breeze bit your chin, but the cold wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, your blood still pumping from the earlier fight. Still, you hoped the house would be warm when you returned. Coming back to a cold house was never a good way to treat a guest.

“You walked this whole way?”

Of course you did. You didn’t have a fancy bike or a car, so you walked. Its not like you needed to go out of town for anything. Everything you needed was right at your fingertips. If you really did need a ride, you could always just hitch one with someone else. What were they going to do? Try to kill you? Unlikely, since you’d have their fingers in their floorboard before they could even think about trying anything funny.

“Yup. Walking’s healthy. Thought about getting a horse. Wouldn’t that be something? Valiant demon hunter rushing in on a fiery steed! Catchy no?”

It was his turn to scoff, rolling his eyes so hard you could almost hear it.

“Too cliché, as usual with you.”

Clicking your tongue, you replied, “I never claimed to be the creative one. That was you, old friend. You were the one always reading or looking at art… I liked to listen to you talk about it because I found it interesting.”

He hummed and let you continue on.

“I liked to read, help you interpret stuff, but write it myself? Big no-no.”

“What were all the paintbrushes for?”

You hung back a moment, stopping to lean against a tree and sighed.

“Mom bought the set for me, so I figured I could put it to use. Just because I like to paint, doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.”

You could feel the forest darken around you, the sun starting to sleep behind the horizon. Thick clouds floated gently through the sky, bright mists of stars blinking in their trail.

“The biggest critic is usually the artist.”

He gave your shoulder a gentle pat to get you back onto the trail, seeming eager to get to shelter. “We’ll just have to see if you’ve improved since the last piece I’ve seen.”

The last one he saw was an ugly watercolor painting of a horse. All you could think about was the last serious painting you'd worked on. Ugh… the last piece… It would definitely be kept hidden for obvious reasons, for it was of the Sparda house; that beautiful mansion just outside of town where your childhood friends had lived. You painted it as best you could from memory, the year the flowers had blossomed all over the field, the morning sun had shined over the back of the roof, illuminating the building with a golden outline. It reminded you of your friendships and of your losses, the biggest symbol of loss being that majestic house.

“I’ll show that one to you later. There’s a couple others I’m proud of that I think you’ll like!”

-`~`-

Finally home, after what seemed like an eternity of walking and fumbling your keys, you tossed the dumb things on the side table and headed straight to the kitchen. You had been on a grocery run earlier that morning and had your meals mapped out for the week. You, of course, didn’t know there would be a guest, but it was fine. Making a little extra was a habit of yours that you didn’t like to break anytime soon. In any case, dinner needed to be cooked and now you had an extra set of hands to help.

“Hope you brought an appetite with you. I’m thinking I’ll make a stir fry tonight and we can start a crock pot meal for tomorrow if you intend to stay that long.”

He removed his coat, hanging it up on the rack beside the door, but left on his sword and boots, ready for anything you supposed. Guess that was a good thing. Cant be too careful when you went through what he did… what either of you did. Demons didn’t usually make it a habit of attacking your home, though you were probably becoming too relaxed. Maybe you should hide a few more weapons just in case…

“If I wash some veggies, will you cut them? I normally don’t ask that of guests, but you’re a special exception.”

He didn’t respond, but immediately removed his tan fingerless gloves and washed his hands. That means yes… maybe. You chuckled softly and began to wash the broccoli, skinned the carrots, and even threw in some squash, bringing it all to him with the cutting board and your favorite knife. Vergil got right to it, slicing up the carrots with quick precise cuts. Confident that he knew what he was doing, you got started on cooking the meats you were going to use. It was strange having someone over to help you cook, the soft chopping on the wood making something warm tighten around your heart. It reminded you of your home.

“You ever used to do this for your mom?”

The cutting stopped and it was your cue to stop what you were doing and immediately apologize. The subject of his family could be taboo to speak about, still, the thought of bringing back terrible memories wracked your nerves. You wanted so badly to push and get more answers, but the sickness of guilt buried in your stomach kept you sane. After a moment, he shook his head and looked up to meet your worried gaze.

He clearly looked upset, like he was trying not to be angry or frustrated by whatever was on his mind, but he also looked sympathetic. A hand ran through hair, pulling back any loose strands from his forehead before he decided to answer.

“No. I learned to cook on my own through old recipe books the libraries had. Cutting vegetables is nothing anyway. Always been good at a blade.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Its alright. You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything.” After a short pause of him staring down at the already cut carrots in front of him, he continued. “Did your mother teach you how to cook?”

You were in shock for a moment, afraid of upsetting him, but if he wanted to move past it and talk about your own family, you would.

“Yes, actually! She taught me some things, but baking is the bigger passion of mine.” You were so good in fact, that the recipes were branded into your memory and anytime your family needed a loaf, they could call on you to make it.

“Cakes, desserts, you name it, I can make it. If its anything too complicated, though, I’ll have to make a trip to the store.”

He began to slice up the squash, holding it delicately between his thumb and pointer as he brought the blade through it nice and clean. His glare was focused on making fine cuts, while his mind seemed to be elsewhere entirely. It would be strange for someone to be so invested without actually being in the present. His forehead wrinkled at a particular thought, one he chose to voice out loud.

“Blueberry scones… like the ones your mother made us for our birthday. I had forgotten what they tasted like.”

Your throat tightened as you remembered that day. You were six and they had turned seven. You remembered the sweet fruity smell of blueberries that wafted throughout the house as the oven filled the whole downstairs with the smell of pastries. Your mother had worked tirelessly to find gifts for her best friend’s sons and had them wrapped and ready to go. All she was waiting for now were the sweet treats to be finished baking.

“Mama! What’s the berry bread for?”

“You don’t remember, silly? It’s the twins’ birthdays tomorrow! Eva said that Vergil loves blueberries and Dante will eat just about anything, so that’s what I chose. Oh, don’t give me that face! You’ll get one too!”

You chuckled at the thought of your pouting lips and your mother giving you the ‘aw baby’ look. Like a stone sinking down to the depths of a lake, your stomach dropped as you remembered how much you missed her. Her sweet smile, the slight crinkle of her eyes as she did so brought you back to that stone cross, crying your eyes out and begging her to come back to you. Her soft hands on your shoulders as she rubbed her thumbs over your collarbone, made you think of the small crowd of people dressed in black, pulling you away from the casket as they lowered her into the ground.

“Sweetie, it wont be much longer and you’ll get to play with Eva’s boys. It’ll be lots of fun!”

You sniffled and rubbed the tears out of your eyes, trying to hide that they had welled up in the first place, but that was a silly thought. As if you could hide anything from the man in your kitchen and like clockwork, the chopping stopped again.

“…Are you alright?” It was hesitant and quiet, like he didn’t want to ask it in the first place. He was the same, right? Memories swirling in your brain, thoughts good and bad, making you wish you could see them again. You wanted her there with you again, to run a brush through your hair and scold you gently for letting it get bad again. Little things like that made you so desperate to hold on while begging to let go.

“I’m fine. Just remembering when she made them. We had a good day.”

A few more chopping sounds echoed in the quiet kitchen before the blade slid against the wooden cutting board, meaning that he must have finished up. It was followed by the sound of the chair scraping over the floor and the shuffle of his clothes as he came closer to you. You had initially thought he was bringing the freshly chopped veggies over for the pan, but instead, you were met with his arms surrounding you. He had gathered you to his chest and held you tightly to him, his hand running up your spine to cup the back of your head, pressing your cheek to his leather vest. The sweet and spicy aroma of peppermint filled your lungs when you inhaled sharply.

“I never forgot about you… never forgot about how your family treated me like one of their own.” His hold on you tightened a little, a quick squeeze, a constant reminder that he was still there.

“I thought about going to you after… but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t dare get your family involved in what I needed to do.” You felt his cheek rest on your head, his hold unyielding. He seemed to tremble around you, a man trying to hold everything together, much like yourself and when the surprise wore off, you returned the gesture.

“I don’t have anyone else. When I asked about you, they said you had gone. …I feared the worst.”

Tears slid down your cheeks as you held him just as tight as he held you. It was strange how time didn’t seem to change that little boy you remembered, how he was the same Vergil that confided in you when he was feeling down, the Vergil that held your hand as you ran to the playground. Deep inside, you could feel him in there and he was just like you were when you had lost everything, when you realized everything you knew was gone.

“It’s okay… Hey. Its alright. I’ll always be here and no matter what, you’re always welcome in my home. Now leggo! I gotta get this food started. I haven’t even gotten the noodles in yet.”

He waited another few seconds before finally conceding and settled for standing beside you as you worked. A part of you wished he never let go, wished you never told him to let go, but you both needed to be strong. You couldn’t understand why you needed to act so tough, but you just did. At least she said as much.

“Just as stubborn as your father.”

“How would I know that!? He’s never here!”

“He is out there keeping us safe! Just because you cant see him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care!

“He always makes you cry! You are always crying because of him!”

“Since we’re already on the dusty shelf of hard subjects, is there anything else to get off of your chest while you’re here? You don’t have to say a thing if you don’t wanna. The offer’s on the table if you wanna talk is all.”

He seemed to cringe at the suggestion, his shoulders tensed, weight shifted to the other foot. The only thing it seemed you could do was give him time as you began to cook the noodles. The smells of sauce and veggies fumed in the air, making your mouth water, a fair distraction from the difficult subject.

“You’re trying to ask me about what happened.”

It was a statement, not a question and he couldn’t have hit the nail harder on the head. All you knew about the incident was that demons had attacked the home upon rumors of Sparda’s death and that the house was burned to the ground. All that was left behind were a few objects that survived the fire and the charred remains of Eva’s body, which were promptly buried in the Red Grave Cemetery. Your mother had been a wreck the whole month and nothing you could do would help her out of her depression.

“I don’t want to pry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to say anything.”

He leaned over, elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his arms. A ragged sigh tore through his throat as if he were in pain, like if something were tightening around his neck.

“I can’t. Not yet… I’m sorry.”

Something compelled you to touch him, though a part of you screamed to not. In the end, you couldn’t resist and rested your hand on his trembling back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. He didn’t strike you to be the kind of person to let it all out and maybe he wasn’t. Bad dreams sometimes have a nasty habit of tearing people out of their confident shell. That’s probably what you were, a loose end to a memory that plagued his existence. It made you feel sick, but knowing that he believed he could confide in you was like balm over your anxious heart.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m here to listen if you need me.”

You wanted to ask him where Dante was, if he had made it out, but judging by the fact that he was alone and didn’t even want to speak about what happened, left a sour taste in your mouth. Bile leaking into the back of your throat was starting to diminish your appetite. So much for hoping he had one.

“Come on. Let’s eat and make the most of it. I swear to you, this’ll be delicious. Cross my heart.”

You didn’t dare say the second part and just mixed the ingredients into the pan, shaking and tossing, making a rather dull show of it. You weren’t sure if the look he gave you was amusement for your trick or for your sad attempt at trying to impress him with your ‘great’ cooking skills.

“Now, this’ll blow your boots off. Promise. If it doesn’t live up to the expectation I set, you are free to knock my lights out.”

“As if I would hit a woman over some noodles…”

“Eh, I’ve seen people kill people for less.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle morbidly, knowing the last part wasn’t a joke and it was absolutely horrible how true that statement was.

You scraped some food onto a plate, grabbed some nice utensils, and served it to your special guest. Well… handed it to him since he was still standing beside you and nearly dropped it when his fingers brushed over yours. You both fumbled comically to make sure nothing fell and for a few moments your eyes locked, heart fluttering awkwardly in your chest.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why i-“

He smirked knowingly at you and left to take his seat, leaving you with the butterflies trying to burst out of your stomach. How dare he do this to you! Reduce you to a high-school student with his fucking smile. Absolutely humiliating!

“After speaking so highly of this dish, I figured it would be a shame for it to be tasted by the floor first.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, making your own, excited to finally get to eat rather than fester over your embarassment. “Yeah, well the floor rarely gets a decent meal nowadays. And why would something as great as the floor miss out on such a meal?”

His laugh tumbled through your ears, down your throat and into your heart, squeezing your stomach with a force that almost made you drop your plate again. It simmered to a sharp exhale through his nose and he finally gathered some food on his fork.

“Foolish. Absolutely foolish. It makes me wonder why I came here.”

The clattering of your things on the dining room table muffled the last few words of his sentence, but you still heard them, not even waiting to sit down before digging into the food.

“No you don’t… Holy shit, this is actually really good.”

He quirked a brow at you, obviously not impressed by your table manners, but instead of making a snide comment, he took a bite. You couldn’t help yourself but to watch, trying to figure out of he enjoyed what you made and by the looks of it, he did. He didn’t complain about it when he took careful bites, trying not to get sauce on his vest. It was cute how he leaned just a little over the plate as he ate or how he dragged the top of the broccoli through the sauce below the noodles. It was… distracting.

“Its good. I suppose you don’t have to worry about the lights going out.”

You laughed. As if you needed to worry about that. “Well, I had you pegged as a picky eater.”

“You pegged me, correctly.”

“Oh? Didn’t take you to be into that kind of thing.”

“Disgusting.”

He didn’t seem the least bit disgusted however, rather looking lighthearted at you. Though your banter was rather childish, he didn’t seem to mind it, giving you that familiar gaze of someone trapped in a wave of nostalgia. It was if he belonged there in that seat, as if he belonged with you. Quickly, you tossed those images aside. Ridiculous, thinking that after all this time he would ever grow to care for you anymore than just a friend and stupid to think that being in love with you would be his reason to return to you. No. this was just a visit. He was checking to see if you were alright and reconnect with the one person he had left from his past.

“Do you still read?” You asked to silence the voices still plaguing your mind. Which, he seemed to recognize something was bothering you, but judging by his lack of acknowledgement, he continued with the change of subject.

“Not as much as I like… I read now for research more than entertainment. There’s… something I’m trying to find.”

“What is it? What would have you come all the way out here to find?”

He swallowed what was in his mouth before responding.

“I traveled back to Red Grave to find it, but I’ve had no luck so far. While there, I remembered you and your mother and visited your old home, but when no one was there… I asked around. The neighbors said you left and didn’t say where.”

His eyes caught yours and much like a car crash, you couldn’t look away. Something in his eyes screamed with a mix of dread and relief, a look that wrestled with the agony and fear of more loss. The bags under his eyes looked just a little deeper then.

“I had to make sure you were alive before I could do anything else.”

So he came all this way to find something, but got distracted looking for you? That sounded almost ridiculous. What made you so special that he would deviate from his goals to pursue you? You saw it in his eyes that he was after something big, the ambition burned with the sun’s flames. It invoked feelings of anxiousness, wondering what in the hell he could be up to? It seemed as though being the only son left of Sparda would come with its own troubles and would lead down a very dangerous path. Your mind was a torrent of questions, the predominant one being… Why did his path lead to you?

“Well, I am alive and still kicking, whether or not I’m fortunate for that remains to be seen.”

He grinned, “I happen to find your survival very fortunate.”

After scoffing playfully at his admission, you finished your dinner and took both of your plates to the sink, flattered that he had emptied the plate. If he liked that, then he would certainly enjoy the crockpot meal you had planned for tomorrow.

“You’re probably exhausted after traveling that long. The guest bedroom is up the stairs to the right and the bathroom is in the center. You’re more than welcome to shower and whatnot. This meal for tomorrow isn’t going to cook itself.”

He stood up from the dining table, pushed his chair back in, and pocketed the fingerless gloves. Before he passed you to leave the room, he stopped, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks… for everything.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his lips parting but closing again in favor of just taking his leave up the stairs.

“You’re welcome.”

[devilmayfamily]

Baby's First Year

After writing Baby On The Way, I couldn't get out of Soft!Papa!Vergil land and I had to write something from Nero's early baby days. Hope you enjoy :)

The first year after Nero was born was complete bliss for you and Vergil.

Nero came out at a whopping 9 pounds, 8 ounces (~4300 grams). He almost didn't fit the hospital containers in the baby room which you found a little funny.

Almost right out the gate, Nero opened his eyes to look around, revealing bright pale blue eyes. With small white swirls atop his head, Nero almost held none of your traits but you were ok with that. His character would most likely reveal who his mama is.

Laying there in the hospital bed with Nero laying atop you, had you in tears. Not just from the pain that is child birth, but because this was your son. Your son who would be loved by you, his mama, his wonderful and loving father you got to call your partner, and his wacky uncle who sat just beyond the door in the waiting room.

You guys didn't have to wait long to take him home either, the boy being born perfectly healthy and more. Explaining a demon arm to human doctors was not on the bucket list for the day but Vergil took care of that.

Vergil laid on the couch with Nero conducting the skin to skin contact the doctor talked about almost every chance he got. If you weren't sleeping, trying to recover from the lack of energy labor left you with, you'd find the two asleep together on the couch, Vergil's book covering his face. Sometimes Vergil would wake to a blanket covering him and his son, smiling knowing it was you. There were many photos of this on your phone as well.

Once Nero started to crawl it was time for the weapons to go up. Dante's business building wasn't exactly baby friendly but that didn't stop the man from letting Nero explore every corner of the place. For his first few years, you made sure to have Dante baby proof as much as he could but nothing would prepare you for When Nero start training with his uncle and father.

At home in your two bedroom apartment with Vergil, every cabinet had a lock on it and Yamato stayed out of sight.

Nero loved Vergil's scarf, crying if he didn't have it with him. It became the boys baby blanket despite being a little too small to cover him all the way.

"I knew something about that scarf was going to be special," you say.

"Is that where his name came from?" Vergil asks.

You only smile, leaning into your boyfriend as the two of you looked over a sleeping Nero in his crib.

Nero began to teeth pretty early, sharp baby teeth growing into. You'd find many things broken and torn as if a dog had gotten to them around the apartment if Nero was left to himself even for a second.

You once found Nero chewing on the handle of Yamato, the boy giggling when you found him.

"Nero," you sigh. "Daddy put this away so you don't hurt yourself and yet you chew on it."

You pick up the boy, taking Yamato from him causing the boy to cry. In place of Yamato, you gave him a teething ring, the boy content with having something to sooth his aching gums once again.

There was a lot of babbling and cooing within that first year. Nero found everything amusing, especially his uncle. More accurately, seeing his uncle and father fight which sometimes led to Dante getting stab by Yamato. You'd covering the boys eyes and ears but he'd still find a way to see all the action.

The day Nero said his first word was quite unexpected. You had the boy in a chest carrier, as you, Vergil and Dante walked around a grocery store getting stuff for dinner. Nero was just babbling to himself until he finally said something clear.

"Mama"

You looked down at him, his bright blue eyes starring back at you. He slowly began to smile, saying the word once more while clapping. "Mama!"

You sat down in the isle and cried for a moment. Vergil found you on the floor thinking you were hurt only to be surprise by his son saying another word while pointing at him.

"Dada"

Vergil sat down and cried with you.

While at DMC, setting up the boys first birthday, you were surprised once again. You turned around to get Vergil's attention to help you with decorations. He was sitting on the floor with Dante, trying to coax the baby to walk to him instead of his brother.

"Come here Nero, come to your uncle Dante," Dante cooed at the baby.

"No Nero, come to your father," Vergil said.

You smiled, walking over just behind the boys to see who Nero would go to. Nero looked up at you, smiled and ran right to you.

"Mama," the boy said, hugging you leg.

The two devils watched as the boy ran straight for you, both smiling.

"Well I guess that settles that," Dante chuckles. "Mama's boy, just like his father."

Vergil pushed his brother over, Nero giggling and clapping his hands from behind you. You all laughed, Nero's giggles being so infectious, it was hard not to.

The first year after Nero was born was utter bliss for you and Vergil and that blue devil wouldn't trade it for the world.

[kayayeteae]

Scenes that makes me soft in DMC5–

Nero offering food to—at the time—an unknown stranger

Dante telling V “this is my gig, leave Nero out of this” knowing damn well that Vergil is in fact his father and probably is doing it to protect him

[fugeoni666]

" You work hard today Dante, you deserve a treat"

The café is very busy today, so they close it late >< 

[scalproie]

^__^