wonwhilebeingyoung

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

Не видела чтобы кто-то сделал подобное, поэтому буду считать себя первой 😋

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

▪︎ VERGIL

▪︎ DANTE

|Devil May Cry x Punishing: Gray Raven|

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞?

Dante shows up post-mission smelling like demon guts and bad decisions, and has the nerve to climb into bed without showering. His partner, clean and cozy, isn’t about to let him off easy, but can’t help teasing him when he tries to act all nonchalant about it.

Pairing: Dante x Fem!Reader Rating: T Genre: Fluff Warnings: Mild language, mentions of demon gore/blood, soft physical intimacy, stubborn man being dramatic

She had done the holy ritual.

The everything shower. Hair washed, skin scrubbed, legs shaved, even the good moisturiser, the kind that made her smell like warm vanilla and felt like silk. She was clean, exfoliated, and glowing.

The sheets were fresh. The room smelled like lavender spray and peace.

She was in bed, finally.

And that’s when the front door opened.

She heard the shuffle of boots being kicked off, the low metallic clink of a sword carelessly leaned against the wall, and a familiar grunt, the sound of a man dragging himself in after a long fight.

She didn’t move. Eyes closed. Not yet. Maybe he’d go to the shower first. Maybe she wouldn’t have to kill him tonight.

The bedroom door creaked open.

Heavy steps.

And then...

“Don’t,” she said, voice sharp as a blade.

Dante froze halfway through pulling off his shirt, blinking in the doorway like a raccoon caught in the fridge light. His skin steamed faintly, probably still supercharged from his Devil Trigger not long ago. His chest glistened with sweat, blood dried in the bend of his elbow, and his hair was sticking up in every direction.

“You didn’t shower,” she accused without opening her eyes.

“I was gonna,” he said, slowly walking in.

“You’re walking toward the bed, not the shower.”

“I just wanted to-”

“Don’t you dare touch these sheets, Dante.”

He groaned, flopping forward dramatically on the edge of the mattress. “Babe, my soul is leaving my body. Just five minutes. I’m still kind of smoking.”

“Exactly! You’re a walking biohazard.”

“You smell amazing,” he mumbled, face buried in a pillow. “Like cake and clouds.”

“Then don’t taint me with your demon stank.”

He cracked one eye open. “Wow. Demon stank? Harsh.”

“Don’t care. I can see the blood on your neck. And is that black goo on your pants?”

“…Might be.”

She shoved him with her foot. “Get off. Go shower, Dante.”

He groaned again, rolling onto his back like a cat trying to get attention. “I can’t. I’m too tired. My limbs are optional.”

“You’re optional,” she snapped.

He pouted.

Actual lower lip pout.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered.

“You used to be nice.”

“I'm not used to sleep with someone who's drenched from head to toe with sticky blood.”

He reached under the covers with his foot and brushed her calf.

She kicked it away.

Another try. A sneaky toe, curling gently against her ankle.

“Dante,” she warned.

He said nothing. Just slowly, silently tangled their feet together, stubborn and smug.

She exhaled like she was carrying the weight of the world. “I hate that you’re warm.”

“Liar,” he said into the sheets.

She muttered something unholy under her breath and turned away from him but didn’t pull her leg back.

He smiled, barely.

Then she added, deadpan, “If I feel even a drop of demon goo, I’m kicking you straight out of this bed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

He laid there: radiating hellfire, stinking like victory and sin, grinning like he’d won something.

And maybe, just maybe, he had.

Ten minutes later, he was still lying there.

Still smug. Still shirtless. Still sweaty.

Still refusing to move.

She stared at the ceiling, counting backward from ten. Again. And again.

He hadn’t stopped inching closer, either. One arm now sneakily draped across her waist. His leg practically trying to merge with hers under the covers.

“You’re still warm,” she muttered.

“Warm is nice,” he mumbled, nuzzling her shoulder. “You’re all soft and clean. It’s like sleeping with an angel."

“You smell like the wrong side of hell.”

He gave a dramatic sigh, clearly playing dead again. “I’m conserving energy.”

She stared at him for another beat.

Then she got up. Quietly.

Too quietly.

Dante barely cracked an eye open. “Where ya goin’, sweetheart?”

“Nowhere. Just gonna grab some water.”

She walked to the kitchen.

Poured a tall, cold glass from the water tap.

And walked calmly back into the room, like she was ready to exorcise a demon, armed with nothing but cold water and zero patience.

He didn’t suspect a thing. Just gave a lazy little smile as she approached.

“Changed your mind about snuggles, huh?”

She raised the glass.

“Last chance, Sparda.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

Then she poured it straight over his chest.

Cold. Righteous. Glorious.

He shrieked.

It wasn’t a yell, it was a high-pitched, full-body yelp, like a startled 90s anime schoolgirl caught in a love triangle.

“WHAT THE HELL?” he gasped, falling off the bed like he’d been electrocuted.

She stood over him unfazed, holding the empty glass like a queen who just issued judgment.

“You’re going to shower now.”

He sat on the floor, drenched and wide-eyed, water dripping from his chest, hair sticking to his forehead. He pointed at her, betrayed. “You ambushed me!”

“I warned you.”

“That was evil.”

“I learned from the best.”

He groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “Fine. I’m going. You win. Shower of shame, here I come.”

As he sulked toward the bathroom, still grumbling, she called after him sweetly: “And scrub behind your ears!”

He flipped her off without turning around.

She smiled to herself, crawled back into the clean bed, and let out a satisfied sigh.

The bedroom door creaked open with exaggerated drama, and Dante stepped in like the world’s most tragic war hero.

Hair soaked, towel slung low around his hips, a long-suffering frown on his face.

He stood there, dripping water onto the floorboards, steam still clinging to his bare skin, and glared at her like she was the root of all his problems.

“You happy now?” he muttered.

She didn’t even look up from the bed, already tucked beneath the covers. “I am,” she said simply. “You’re clean, the room isn’t suffocated in demon gore, and you’re no longer boiling like a furnace. That’s a win.”

He grumbled something under his breath and stalked toward his side of the bed, dragging his towel off before pulling on a pair of boxers and laying awkwardly on the bed.

But when she rolled over, moving toward him with that familiar softness in her eyes, the one that said “I forgive you, now come cuddle me”, he didn’t move to meet her.

In fact, he shifted away.

She blinked. “…What?”

He threw an arm over his eyes. “Don’t get too close. I still smell bad. You said so.”

She stared at him.

“You’re joking.”

“I reek. Filthy. Practically radioactive,” he deadpanned, voice dry as ash. “Wouldn’t want to offend your delicate nose again.”

“Oh my god, you’re being petty.”

“Me?” he gasped dramatically. “Petty? Nooo.”

She scoffed, then reached for him anyway, sliding across the bed and wrapping an arm around his bare waist. His skin was warm from the shower, still slightly damp, and she could feel the muscles in his back tense beneath her touch.

“Pretty sure you smell like soap and regret now,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I think I can survive.”

He grunted, trying to act unaffected, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

“I’m warning you,” he said, still in that fake nonchalant tone, “you cuddle me now, you’re asking for trouble. Might still be contagious.”

“Contagious with what?” she teased, lips ghosting just below his ear. “Sarcasm? Chronic martyr syndrome?”

He tried to hold his expression but the second her fingers slipped beneath the blanket to curl around his stomach and she moved closer, spooning him from behind, Dante broke.

His breath caught. Visibly.

She felt him flinch ever so slightly under her hands, the way his shoulders tightened, not in protest, but in desperate restraint.

“Goddammit,” he mumbled, voice muffled against his forearm.

She grinned.

“What was that?” she asked sweetly, trailing a few soft kisses along his spine. “I didn’t catch that, baby.”

“I said,” he hissed, face burning, “this is unfair.”

She hummed against his back, smug and victorious. “You’re warm again.”

“I just showered.”

“And now you’re mine.”

He groaned in defeat, letting his head drop back onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” he muttered, reaching back to blindly tug her arm tighter around him. “But if I start overheating again, it’s on you.”

“You can sweat it out on me.”

He shuddered, and not from the heat this time.

“…You’re evil,” he said, voice low and hoarse.

“Learned from the best, didn’t I?”

He didn’t argue. He just sighed again, melted a little more into her hold, and finally let the last of his resistance crumble.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

ARCANE | Swain Groom | Flora Andrivon

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

yall i wanna see my big daddy swain eughhhh i only saw a glimpse of him in fortiche style in ambessa’s blood sweat and tears mv but i need MOREEEEEEE (my hope that noxus is next in the spinoff show cause of his raven in the final episode 🙂‍↕️)

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

VI + PROTECTING AND FIGHTING FOR HER FAMILY

“Vi was strong because she was afraid. Her fear of losing us is what made her fight so hard.”

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

VANDER + HIS DAUGHTERS

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

"Around every light, a shadow. Beyond every ending, a beginning." HERE, TOMORROW - SPIRIT BLOSSOM BEYOND CINEMATIC

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

Can we just talk about how fucking BADLY Vergil was hurt and basically broken on every aspect (identity, mentally, physically, hell, probably in soul/spirit as well,) that he HAS become a complete hurricane in his search for the one constant, grounding person in his life to try and reach out to despite all the noise and roar of his own storm?

How broken you must be, to approach someone at the eye of your hurricane and plead for help, in such a vulnerable state - V, fully human in this moment, terrified to some degree and afraid to even look at his brother, failing a joke probably gave him a heart attack internally.

In DMC 5, we see every raw, vulnerable, exposed nerve in their own forms brought to manifestation by one man's shatterage - one he didn't even know he would survive in the first place, dragging himself to his childhood home so if he did perish, at least it would be near some semblance of the family he had left.

He only went to Dante when even that failed.

Vergil was dead-set on having SOMETHING change, whether it meant splitting apart entirely, or ending it right there.

And if he had died, no one would likely ever know, least of all Dante, unless he could sense his withering presence by some miracle.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

The symbolism of the snake embroidery on Vergil's clothes and my theories on how he might have acquired his outfit. (he's broke asf he didn't get it with money guys)

In the first Devil May Cry novel we learn that teenager Dante had his red jacket custom made. He is actually pissy about it when it gets ruined with bullet holes. He then wears a fuckass black jacket, which makes him look embarrassing.

Dante was drinking and using firearms when he was 15 or 16 years old; but he had a job (albeit his job being a MERCENARY. Also twins being European really shows because he was having drinking contests as a fucking 15 year old, god), so he had enough money to buy himself a custom made jacket. But the thing is, we don’t know how teenager Vergil got his outfit. It’s too well made to be bought in a normal store. Vergil probably had no money—though it is hinted that after Mundus' attack, young Vergil may have used public transportation (I also have a headcanon that he didn't know how to open a portal until he was at least 12 so that makes sense) and even bought himself food. These may have happened before or after the attack but let's say after the attack since Sparda, Eva, and the twins were living a secluded life. Still, being homeless and constantly on the run, his concept of the value of money is more like ‘money’ and ‘a LOT of money.’ He had no use for finance; what important was to get powerful and gain knowledge.

So, he probably didn’t get it with money. Vergil was never in one place long enough to earn money. I also don't see him as someone who would kill or hurt people to steal their money (he actually kinda did it in VoV,,, but that was different), so the idea of custom made clothing bought with human currency doesn't sit with me.

He might have used demonic magic to create his outfit. We see a demonstration of this in DMC5 with Trish, who uses her magic to literally recreate her entire outfit. This is very weird and left unexplained, which frustrates me because I need to rationalize things. Perhaps demons can do this because they can infuse anything with their demonic energy, and since the clothes they wear are made of organic material, they can recreate or even sew them back together. In Vergil's case, it's more like 'create a whole new outfit in mind's eye and boom now you have a ridiculous cravat.'

Another possibility is that he had it custom-made, but not with human currency. Demons, or at least a certain demonic/supernatural entity (the God of Time, aka the Divinity Statue), accept red orbs as a form of payment.

Vergil probably visited many places on his trauma blind journey of gaining power. I might overdo here, but what if he came across a strange tailor and they made a deal like, "You give me 70 thousand red orbs, and I give you a slutty vest, a ridiculous cravat, nice shoes and a cool coat with snake embroidery on it." and Vergil was like "Aight." Maybe he was intending to infuse his outfit with his magic anyway. It was a win-win situation.

It's funny to imagine Vergil designing his outfit, just being a teenager for once.

So, Vergil could have saved up red orbs to get a cool coat. Demonic establishments are kind of canon, so that’s a possibility. He was a teenager it’s only natural that he liked teenager things, even in his traumatized and hunted state. At a certain point in his life, he became strong enough to indulge in some of his likes.

Speaking of snake embroidery, Vergil has SO MUCH snake symbolism on him, and on his clothes too! Snakes were adored and respected throughout history before paganism started to get shitted on. Snakes represent wisdom, REBIRTH, healing, transformation, and knowledge. That’s why Satan, disguised as a snake, gave Eve the apple (knowledge) (also, knowledge of the occult was really given to women first). The snake detail on his clothes might even be magic, too. It's nearly an occult symbol on its own. Maybe a sigil? I know sigils aren't a thing in DMC but I don't care I'll go apeshit with my theories.

Whether the serpent detail was intentional or unintentional, it’s still a great detail considering his story and character. He goes through transformation (Nero Angelo), then rebirth (Vergil rebirth party in DMC5), and healing (basically the whole plot of Visions of V).

So, just teenager Vergil researching the occult and being fascinated with the symbolism of the serpent. OR he straight up stole it. :l This bitch split his demonic and human self apart and like 1 day after his human self came to existence he had to deal with money and his first thought was to steal it. Anyway, that's all. Have a good day!

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

i literally will die on the hill that vergil is just as big of a flirt as dante. like we’ve seen that vergil inherently is soooo unserious - he loves to taunt dante and play stupid little games for his own amusement. obviously, his flirting would not be as direct as dante’s flirting would be, but vergil would totally think bullying is flirting or try to get the one-up on someone just to watch them try to best him.

it also makes a lot of sense if you add the context of v. v is literally vergil’s human side, and i think the fandom forgets that v’s personality IS vergil’s personality. he’s poetic and thoughtful, but he also loves to challenge people mentally and say cryptic bullshit just to get a reaction out of people. in terms of flirting, vergil wouldn’t see ruffling your feathers as trying to aggravate or belittle you, but as a way to challenge whomever he’s pursuing. he loves to push buttons and part of the fun is seeing how much someone can take and to what lengths they’ll go to “fight” back. it’s very methodical and sly, but it’s whore behavior nonetheless.

i personally headcanon the twins as libras anyways for a multitude of reasons (mainly because they are PETTYYYYYY (and fruity)), but libras are ruled by venus, meaning they are MASSIVE flirts. even if there’s no endgame, even if it’s just to pass time, libras will smile and try to charm anyone under their little spell. they crave validation and admiration, and have no qualms using flattery to get it. granted, we’ve hardly, if ever, seen vergil outside of the context of battle or dante, so it is hard to say exactly how he is. but again, given v’s personality, the way he talks and carries himself, it’s safe to assume that vergil would mimic that.

tldr - vergil is a flirtatious whore that loves to get on people’s nerves just to get a reaction out of them.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

POV: Vi and Jinx finally making up after years

This is how I want arcane to end.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

~nothing new, just Jinx’s braids appreciation post~

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

hello dmc fans am i insane or does vergil push dante out of the way here. like unless its an animation error his body moves as if vergil pushed him with the handle of the yamato. yknow.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

I got this hc that little nero was raised by dante and his s/o for a while lil nero is so well behaved with s/o and just chaos with dante

(NERO DESERVE LOVE TOO AAAAA)

I can see Nero just being an absolute angle to you/reader, never once acting out or throwing a tantrum, just content with being in your arms and wanting to help you in general, even though his little baby hands can’t do much.

It’s the thought that counts and it gives him the gift of a million forehead kisses as you thank him for being ‘the man of the house’ much to Dante’s dismay becuase Nero acts the exact opposite.

Nero glares at him, won’t do what Dante asks of him, knocks over pizza boxes and generally making a mess of even somehow managing to get his little chubby hands on a unfinished -yet somehow still cold- strawberry sundae and crying because he faves himself brain freeze.

Baby! Nero wants to be with you more then he wants to be with Dante and it shows.

There was no changing the fact that you were Nero’s favourite, even going so far as to try and escape Dante’s arms to crawl on all fours to you, making cute baby sounds as his motivation to get to you grew strong writhing this quarter demon baby.

‘Hello little man.’ You greet as you picked Nero up and into your arms as he coos, kissing his forehead. ‘Was Dante behaving himself?’ You playfully ask as Nero seemed to actually tell you his day through baby babbles and noises that you acted as though were words that you could understand, meanwhile Dante stood like the odd man out as he watched you two interact.

‘Oh I was behaving alright, this little man was chasing a right ruckus when you were gone.’ Dante said, ruffling Nero’s white hair, making the boy within your arms glare at him once more as he buries his head into your neck as his chubby hands clung to you tightly.

‘Nero? Causing a ruckus? My baby would never.’ You defended the child as you rubbed his back, knowing that after the long day he’s had the boy deserved a long sleep for another long day ahead of him.

Dante looked at you unamused as you continued to baby the baby, the very same baby that almost pulled his hair out and almost made him go deaf in one ear with his screeching, and nearly clawed his face off with that glowing demon arm of his after he muttered that the little guy wouldn’t do this if you were present in the room. Not a good idea on his behalf because his baby nephew was quite the screamer, yet here he was now in your arms, fast asleep as though he didn’t almost tore the house apart a couple of minutes ago.

Yet the sight of Nero falling fast asleep on your shoulder and you holding him as though he was the most precious thing in existence, humming a little tune as you made your way to put the little boy to bed, where it was the same thing; you try to get him to let go of you, Nero wouldn’t let go of you, and your left to take Nero to fall asleep upon your chest within yours and Dante’s shared room.

While his nephew was a little shit, Dante knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to the little guy nor you, and will indulge in his antics and tantrums if it meant that the kid got to be a kid far longer then he or his brother ever did. Dante would much rather have his baby nephew kick and scream then deal with anything he had to deal with growing up, and knew that you could give him that childhood that he had lucked out on past a certain point, and he knew that he wouldn’t want his nephew to have anything other than a roof over his head and a warm pair of arms to fall asleep within.

He deserves that much and more for a kid of his circumstance.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

content. mdni 18+

dante sparda !! pussy from the back

 "damn.. for me?" he joked at you, nuzzling his nose into the soaked fabric of your panties. dark red, lacey lingerie that he bought you and insisted you wore often adorned your bent over body and your black stiletto heels held you up on your feet, elbows digging into cold wood of his office desk.

 "you're so dirty.." you snorted quietly, wiggling your hips away from his sniffing. his hands held your hips still with a playful growl, digging his nose in further before using his teeth to tug at your panties and pull it to the side.

 "dirty? i think this is dirtier." he clicked his tongue, slowly sliding a long middle finger into your dripping cunt to reveal an elongated squelch and breathy moan from you. "she likes it~" slowly, he pulled back and lightly teased at your cunt. he glided a finger down the length of your pussy to the very edge of your hole, pushing into you with barely the length of his whole fingernail. your weak whines and swerving, begging hips made his cock twitch stiffly in his jeans. rounding your pussy a couple more times and spreading your slick all over in a messy manner, your jaw dropped down to the desk surface when he suddenly pushed two fat fingers into your wet cunt, back arching slightly.

 he pushed them inside you at a slow pace. the sight of your dripping cunt surrounding him and making his fingers look bigger made him shiver in pleasure. he panted softly, shifting on his knees to desperately get friction against the leaking cock in his tight pants. moving his hand to the side with fingers still inside you, he made enough space for him to slip past and take his tongue to flick at your clit. his index and middle finger rubbed at your gummy walls, the tip of nose nose bumping against your hole and his proximal joints eager to keep your taste on his tongue.

 "she tastes amazing, angel." he hummed, pooling spit in his mouth to spit at your hole filled with his fingers. moaning lowly, he worked his fingers faster and jutted his chin under you to suck at your clit, gray stubble scraping against the insides of your thighs. you whimpered out a call of his name or two, hiding your face in your arms as you squeezed down on his appendages. your pussy sung out loud squelches in the rhythm of his fast fingers and his lips delivered slurps just as loud from below you.

 "you're gonna make me cum~" you muttered slightly muffled into your arms, feeling tightness in your lower tummy. your saliva dripped down your forearm, a drop or two of drool.

 "thought that was the point." he mentioned snarkily with a smirk, feeling your hips jump when he pushed his fingers in fully. with no energy or care to comment back, your thighs clenched around his head with a quick and mind numbing release. a loud moan that practically echoed in his office, tight hole sucking his fingers back in as you clenched down. he groaned against you, creating vibrations that made your hips buck and stutter. your vision went black and you pushed back against him shamelessly with shaky legs, whimpering loudly as you waited out your long orgasm.

 you breathed heavily and your chest heaved as your body came down from your high, tossing your head back at an attempt to look back at dante who now stood up.

his eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance, lips and facial hair still glistening with your juices. he tugged at his belt and shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

 "ah shit.." he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "came in my fucking pants."