#DMC5 fanfiction
Text
➥ The End of All Things
Type: One-Shot
Pairing: m!OC x V
Word Count: 5,74
Tags: Death, regret, angst, loss, failure, insects, blood, gore, nightmares, guilt, drama, V is not Vergil
Summary: A man's heart is only as strong as his memory, for if he forgets who he is and who he loves, what strength may he claim at the end of all things - what forgiveness may he beg for in a dream within a dream?
A belated birthday gift to you, @inkburnt, my dearest friend.
As always, minors do not interact.
A brilliant cascade of abyssal stars crumbled and fell to the earth, tainted wholly by darkness and despair, and in their wake they left behind tragedy and ruin; Jungles of concrete and glass collapsed into their foundations as little more than rubble, and all that was once green and lively had turned cold and black and broken, wild dogs and all others encased in ash and stardust, forever frozen in place and doomed to die choking on the corrosive fumes billowing from the fallen stars around them. Even the soil is saturated with death and the snap of ushered fates, tamped flat by the sluggish feet of the damned, the lost, clumped together by the blood, sweat, and salted tears of the frightened and starving - the few who survived the calamity. And the sun would not rise for them, no matter how desperately they should pray, for it, too, had twisted and contorted into a blackened husk; And the moon would not pull the tide, no matter how long they should weep, for it, too, had been shattered.
The wonder and beauty of waking, breathing life was but a ghost, a memory, a dream.
Only death remains, the promise of hopelessness, famine, and terror lurking around every corner, snatching up those who linger with filthy, gnarled claws. The lost souls of yesterday are devoured by the evils of today, torn asunder, swallowed, digested, and lost once more, consumed by the dangers of shadow and circumstance. Hope is abandoned, happiness an empty pleasantry, calmness an omission of truth, truth an outright falsehood; There is no meaning to the pitiful lives lived under a starless sky, and they are restless, mindless, corrupted, tainted in all the same ways as the very stars that had forsaken them.
But there is always more to the stories of old, the disparate retellings of the event that claimed the world its victim, and the truth was more complicated and convoluted than any vague memory could ever hope to describe. Hidden in plain sight were the wide swaths of talon marks across pillars of rubble, tooth and claw buried into the ashen bones of the damned, and the vast pools of blood feeding the roots of charred, fleshy remnants of Hell. Devilish corpses slowly sank into the earth, drawn in by the idly lapping pull and draw of dark crimson, and skeletons now lie an unnerving call to the beginning of the end, stained by the impurity of what they’d wrought. The remains of their conquest dotted the horizon as foully as the day they first splintered their claws rising from the depths of hot-burning flame and brimstone, pouring from writhing pits of flesh and fire as the blood spilt flooded the world they plotted to greedily reave and madly destroy. It all pulsed to the tune of a dying heartbeat, yet contained no life within, rising and falling without purpose nor mind, in the end. There was only so much the armies of Hell could withstand, a victim of their invasion and overzealous sacking of the waking world, for it was they who pled to their gods and kings in a bid for power unrivaled - and they were blessed to have received an answer to their prayers, however foolish they were to turn away from the synergistic nature of Hell’s relationship with Heaven and the earth…
One by one, the stars melded with the expansive abyss, dying in its arms, and soon fell to the earth they coveted, mercilessly laying waste to all in their path, leaving families in scattered pieces, lovers as aimless wanderers with hearts in tatters, and mountains of rotting, festering bodies for the flies. Of all things that may be certain, it is the destruction of the world and the death it’d borne.
Of this, Garrett had no doubts, for he, too, had been cursed to shuffle and crawl through the muck of blood and mud combined, weighed down by the cold light of the dead stars, smoldering in their frigid heat - alone. Only the spectral memory of what he’d lost clung to the back of his mind, pale and ghostly images of the life he’d built in a city that no longer exists with people who no longer live lingering without substance nor promise; He knew they’d been lost, too, hollow husks of the humanity they once championed, strangled by noxious smoke and fume and left to wither and crumble to ash and dust beneath a blanket of hopelessness and despair, each of them to suffer their fates alone. The calamity came too quickly and cut too deep, like the silvery shine of a blade in the darkest back alley, and his family of hard-won misfitted devils and tortured humans was scattered and isolated, overwhelmed by the armies of his conquering kin and the desolation of the cosmos. But there was one he cherished above all, one he treasured and loved with all his blackened heart, and though he tirelessly sifted through ash and bone and fought every battle with feral enthusiasm in spite of what parts of him were missing and bleeding, he could not find his mate.
He feared the worst, of course, stumbling and fumbling through the ruins of their devastated world, swallowed whole by the unceasing tragedy of his loss, and it was in this fear and shambling erosion that he forgot himself. He’d forgotten what’d shaped and molded him into a man, what tethered him to humanity and split his connection to Hell and its machinations, what filled him with great joy and gave him a full sense of purpose; He’d forgotten who he was without his home, without the warm, soothing reminders that he’d belonged and was needed as he was, accepted and beloved; And he’d forgotten, in all his aimless roaming of the earth where his claws cracked and gnarled, the man he fought to become and the extraordinary love he insulated himself with, and the reciprocation in the peridot of his mate’s eyes, and the devilish younglings he took into his ashen paws to nurture and grow. He’d forgotten his greatest struggle, his greatest love, his greatest loss, his strengths and his weaknesses, and in the darkened twilight gloom, an age of hollow wandering came and only the prick of numbness and miserable uncertainty of all things remained.
He was no different than the others, left behind in the same manner as all those who escaped with their lives when the burning pustules of Hell burst and pocked the lands with the mangled corpses of the Heavens, cursed never to find an inkling of his mate’s whereabouts nor peace in the dilapidated grand cathedral of an empty world.
How unfortunate, that this should now be his cross to bear once more, but a mere hazy memory was all that remained of the first and he could no longer recall the events of yesteryears, only what he felt, and such was not so poetic a thing. Still, he yearned gravely for it, for the divine complexity and human simplicity where life had been regarded as precious and uniquely meaningful because of its brevity, where the beauty in it shone as bright as any star in the bonds and memories they built. Those were the ghosts he’d permitted to haunt him, the memories of that life however painful it may have been. But the days all became one and blended together, and those memories faded, and what else could he do but forget? Only his emotions lingered and soon they, too, will leave him and only frantic instinct and devil nature will remain.
Perhaps he was being punished for some great sin, but he couldn’t figure out exactly which one, let alone remember what qualified, though it could have been the results of his failure to protect those he held most dear, the fruits of desperate inadequacy.
Or, perhaps it was simply a circumstance none of them could control, where none of their efforts could stand to meaningfully deter the overwhelming and swift destruction of their home, where they were too few and all else was too many .
For a terribly long time, he laid there in the bloody muck and languished like the fool he thought himself to be, shallow breaths causing ripples and bubbling to slowly and steadily alter its muddy surface. It was warm and wreaked of rot and unceasing decay, a cradle of death. It seemed a trivial, pointless matter to stand and tentatively continue his steadily fading quest when the likelihood he’d ever find his mate and the others had long since dwindled - it’d been far, far too long. Still, it may be for the best that he moves on from this place, before his limbs begin to atrophy and the sores riddling his hide worsen. An infection would spell his end long before starvation ever could.
And, so, with tremendous effort, he climbed to his hellish paws so riddled with the slag of underworldly decease, and began his enduring quest anew with uncertainty and confusion fogging his mind, feeble and diminished to his core. What was once a statuesque and nobly terrifying representation of the bestial machinations of Hell had shrunken into himself, gaunt and withered and afflicted by infernal mange; There were none who possessed any life within them with which he could feed and absorb, but, though his journey may never reach an end, he would abide by what’d come as second nature, bear the still-burning embers a long gone until nothing at all was left of him.
Every muscle strapped to his bones quaked and tensed in relentless cycles, and despite drowning in steady waves of torturous agony, he took the first step.
And, then, more were soon to follow.
He did not pause to care for himself, did not shake himself free of the excess blooded sludge soaking through his ashen fur, his thoughts singularly focused on his search, but all the while he thought to himself, grasping meekly at the remnants of a life now past. What exactly he was hoping to find was beyond him in truth, merely hints and suggestions of his mate’s physical attributes and the time they’d spent entwined on sleepless nights; His memories proved amorphous and deceptive, an ever changing glimmer in an ocean of despair. He prayed it would one day solidify and distill into something tangible and concrete, where his questions regarding his life before would meet their answers, but neither hope nor faith could substantiate his prayers. It was a strange ritual for a devil to partake as it was, perhaps he ought not trespass further against what few stars may still twinkle in the abyss…
He trotted along in the endless wastelands, breathing in the festering rot plaguing the air. His head bobbed with exhaustion, rolling back and forth between his shoulders, the haunting gloom leaving a lifeless glow to catch on the surface of mucky pools as shadows stretched beyond into inky blackness. The earth squelched between the pads of his gnarled paws, the faintest fizzle and pop of his heat kineticizing scarlet rivulets and puddles. He could not glean either for even a miniscule shred of rejuvenating energy, dragging his splintered claws through warm coagulations and dust. He continued forward, only briefly glancing toward the pools he passed, but no particular scents caught his attention nor beckoned for acknowledgement, and even fewer corpses and skeletons demanded inspection. They each lacked in intimate familiarity, gnawed and broken to pieces, and they’d have been wholly unrecognizable had it not been for the decaying flesh scattered in piles around them.
So much death…
He began to wonder if he’d been responsible for it himself, the day Hell clawed from its primordial depths and wrought upon the world its reckoning. He could not tuck his tails between his legs and hurry to escape it now, trapped beneath the suffocating weight of his mistakes, and, he swore, allowances could not be made to excuse his inadequacy. It did not matter that control and the strength with which to exercise it had been sapped from him, not before or after the end had come; Heavy chains restricted him, tightening and squeezing until his chest began to cave in under pressure, blood oozing out of him like an overripe fruit. Coughing caused it to splatter across ash and coagulated blood, dripping from dry, cracked lips, ever so slowly pooling around his massive paws. It hurts - it aches - and such agony was oft accompanied by sorrowful, pitiful whimpering and groaning, whining and moaning.
He stopped himself short, gazing into the dull red, glassy surface of a puddle as if it held the secrets, the truth in its miniscule vastness, a pinprick in the fabric of the world. He stared and stared, not a sound nor interrupting ripple tearing across its surface could distract him, remove him from this pitiable pause, his chest heaving with wanton loathing and unceasing exhaustion. Without warning, Garrett collapsed, his long and withered legs trembling unsteadily before buckling underneath him, and as his massive head collided with the ashen earth, his nose half-submerged in rotted blood, he found himself in the same position he’d allowed himself to suffer for untold lengths of time.
He stared and stared and stared some more, idly watching the puddle shift and writhe with every breath, his mouth hanging open so he might collect more air into his lungs. But blood weaseled into the empty crevices between his teeth, thick with the unmistakable flavor of soured iron and the taint of deathly corruption, and something fouler, still, accompanied it; Wriggling senselessly in the murk, toward that which was warm raggedly breathing, were the slick larval bodies of the relentless eaters of decay, rising and falling with the flow of painful breaths. Slowly, at first, and, then, all at once, breaking miniature waves with their tiny, round, starving heads as Garrett unflinchingly, mindlessly remained. He’d not the strength to climb to his paws, nor the will to try once more, and he could not fathom the potential rewards for such a feat; Had there been any at all, he was certain he did not deserve them.
Bloodshot blues steadily closed and the dilapidated, broken world caging him came to be framed in little more than encroaching blackness, a needless yet invasive mark of the ebb and flow of consciousness. Any attempts to keep himself conscious and somewhat alert were ushered away by the darkness, beaten back by the lifeless state of all things, and as he lie there in the dirt and bloody coagulants, he snake further and further into the abyss that’d fought harder than any to consume them all, and the mange riddling his fur soon became sustenance for the foulest devourers - the children of flies - for he, too, had been doomed. Cursed, as he’d thought, to wander aimlessly the endless wastes, and to breathe his final breath in the cradles of shallow pools, a meal for what precious little life still dared to defy its fate.
Maggots aplenty crawled along the length of his tongue, inching further along his mushy, bleeding gums to the abscesses in his throat in what felt to him a single-file line, diminutive jaws piercing infected flesh. They wriggled and writhed to the shores of their puddle, popping air bubbles with indelicate plips as they went, searching for his own decrepit body as it, too, afflicted with the pain of atrophy, famine, and the tragedy of the inevitable, slowly began to die, They made no sound, swift in their deliberation, and they gnawed and gnawed on the raw and exposed fringes of open wounds, greedily devouring his enfeebled hide without prejudice. He felt nothing, enshrined in hollow numbness, neither pain nor discomfort. Not even the tiny mouths that burrowed into his flesh. But he knew, well, the paths they took on their long, terrible march as they struggled further. He was raw and spread open, peeled apart by the natural cycles of life and death, teetering on the very edge of resignation, and he loathed to suffer such a fate undignified. He’d not the strength to rally against such forces yet remaining, and he knew he would not survive a battle of attrition, so there, in the bloody muck, he laid a wolf no longer but a hollow carcass without a place to call home, nor a mate to hold him in the consuming darkness, nor memories to ponder, nor memories to become.
Perhaps, once, he might’ve stuck his middle finger to the sky and screamed a slew of expletives, denied and defied what’d come, but the man he’d once been had been long dead already.
Was it fine for him - would he be forgiven? - to relinquish the last of his life to the larval flies feasting upon his flesh? Even though he was not strong enough, persistent enough, to viciously cling to his final breath and endure the grim loneliness of so broken world? To be a lasting yet quickly diminishing remnant of a time long past, alone and without hope or heart, had yet been a fate worse than even the death that beckoned him now. In the end, he could not save his truest love, nor could he bear to recover his skeletal remains, and he was sorry.
From the bottom of his shriveled, rotted, blackened heart, he was sorry.
He could not save their brothers, their friends, from fabled armageddon, from the inevitable destruction of all at the hands of sin, of the mass violent exodus of the devils and lords of Hell. He could not guide them down brighter paths, rescue them from the collapse of the night sky, to lengthen their life expectancy just a moment longer, and he was sorry.
He was sorry he’d failed them all, that he’d accepted now his fate, and no amount of apology would ever grant him the forgiveness he begged for in the fading moments of his life.
He was sorry.
Perhaps I will find you, in another life… at the beginning of all things.
Dirty lashes began to flutter as his eyes slunk backward in their sockets, his shallow breaths stuttering in tandem with the frantic beating of his heart. Weak muscles stiffened, contracting along softened bone, and his body arrested completely. One by one, his bodily functions began to fail, food for the foulest creatures now, and it was in these fleeting seconds he realized it was finally upon him - that death had come to bear its finality and take one last thing from him. And it came and went without a sound, as if granting him the dignity of a swift and painless end. And as he lied, darkness overcame him, and he breathed a long, broken sigh into the horrid, festering air, and death took him into its arms and carried him away into the deepest reaches of the abyss. Where pain and sorrow and loneliness and blame could not dampen his fur nor sully his heart; Where the sun would not grace his skin with the warmth of its rays, nor bask in the moonlight on evening walks among chiseled stone and honored dead; Where he could be free of the trappings of a meaningless life overburdened by misery and failure; Where he could not lose his strength or his will again; Where he could never find the gorgeous peridots that so adored him, cherished him, accepted him as the twisted being he’d always been.
Many unspoken regrets and forgotten sorrows took the place of his spirit, a curse all his own a scar upon the ash and dust of so broken and dead and shattered a world, but it was in the soulless expanse of the abyss he found peace; He’d no choice in the matter anymore, and an eternity stretched longly into an ever expanding cosmos unchained by mortal life, to forge anew the beginning and end of another world, another time, another man, until all would converge and collapse in on itself once more. No such concepts as forgiveness, trespass, love, hate, chaos, order, happiness or sorrow mattered any longer, but they would, again, some day, when time could be treasured and spent on them proper. But an opportunity for the world to mourn the loss of its life and all those it’d created had come, and it would greedily and foolishly succumb to its grief, accepting no question nor judgment for its own displays of weakness or tiredness. It, too, had died, choking on its final gasps as the ribs of cathedral halls expanded and contracted, the intricacies of worn paintings adorned in gold trim and shifting and breathing with the world’s death knell; But it did not waste away nor shrivel into nothingness prophesied, promised. Instead, it seemed only to sleep a dreadful sleep, sung to rest by its own machinations, its own voice, yet bleeding by its own hand. It did not know, could not recall, how to be, how to think, how to shape and mold itself in the brilliant splendor of gold and crimson and sapphire it once claimed - not on its own. A long, dreamful sleep, aching with fresh and anxious imagery of stardust tears and a thousand burning suns, the whisper of wind through the shuttering trees and the pelting of rain upon rivers, lakes, oceans– A new world had been ceded within the hazardous dreamworld of the cosmos and borne in its stead, awesome in its majesty and promise of flourishing life where once all was dead and not once brought back into being, glorious and kind to all those beneath its canopy of twinkling lights and sheltering midnight. It blossomed as if a long-tended rose in the greenest garden, its petals wide and saturated in scarlet, and so, too, had it seen its fair share of death and despair, but it did not lose hope. It grew ever taller, ever stronger, dripping with the sweetest morning dew and thriving because of its pain; It appreciated and loved all who traipsed across its face of mountains, forests, deserts, and oceans, cradling them in its arms through all cycles of life. A rarity, to be sure, but a truth nonetheless, for all things must yet come to an end lest they never begin again. It did not rob them of peace, yet blessed them with the freedom to choose for their own what they were, what they were to become, and more dream worlds swirled and danced and burst into being, where only those with the eyes to see the shimmering rose in the garden could.
So it was to be, an unceasing cycle of death and rebirth propagated by the hearts and minds of cosmic forces whose only sins were to create and destroy themselves, as they created and destroyed all those within their dreams. This tragedy was never lost on them, and many chose to bathe their worlds in their grief, but many more chose to endure until they could no longer, and yet still there remained those who would persist; The budding rose in the garden, so well-tended and loved, clung to its existence without fear nor worry, for it knew, at the end of all things, that it would begin again.
And in the waning darkness now stained with faintly pulsing orange, yellow, and red, plain yet warm in the dim glow of the morning, this garden would shiver and sing with the sway of the breeze and delicate lilt of birdsong and life, marching to the soft and steady beat of its own earthly drum. It was delicious delirium, sublime in every respect, to be bathed in warmth and allowed to peacefully dream away the beginnings of a brand new day, listening to the birds twitter and chirp and steadily approaching footsteps scattering the gravel and dirt beneath them. Sharp ears knew well who they belonged to and, wittingly, he roused from his rest, his shapeshifting dreams and listless terrors, turning over in the soft swath of grass he’d taken to in the wee hours; Garrett had always been easy to wake, and perhaps the tentativeness of the other party had known all along, for long, tender hands came upon the sleeping devil. Knuckles dragged along the slope of his jaw as fingers wistfully caressed incomplete swirls and pointed ends of black ink.
Only deliberate and unconditional love could be felt in those slender hands, and he relished the sensation of cool and pallid skin against his own. How he loved it, cherished it, committed it to the most impressionable pieces of his innermost self, as if at any moment it would disappear into the vastness of the cosmos.
A hum of acknowledgment thrummed in his throat and he reached blindly to catch the hands so occupied with gently bringing him to stir. Chilly those hands were, but he’d brought them to his lips to kiss them all the same.
“My love, I’ve been hunting for you,” came the calm complexity of V’s muttering, a pleasant whisper above the singing world.
“Mmm,” Garrett groggily purred, slowly turning his head if only to feel yet more of his beau’s lingering touch. And, then, he stretched his body in full, thrusting his arms above his head and arching his spine as if a back alley cat readying himself to go on the prowl. Only, he wouldn't be chasing after any rats. “Just-” He yawned, stubbly maw stretching wide. “-keepin’ watch over the perimeter, babe.”
This earned him a half-hearted chuckle.
“A fine job you’re doing. When I woke to see you’d run off, I thought the worst. I’d never expected to find you napping on the lawn.”
Garrett opened his eyes and blinked away his sleep, reluctantly pushing himself up to his elbows and gazing upon the pale, angular face he’d loved so completely. Raven hair swept in idle waves a medium frame the curves and planes of V’s visage; High cheekbones, full lips, and a captivating, arresting gaze of verdant peridot - so unique a shade of green could only belong to this alabaster sculpture of a man, an angel in human flesh, and only Garrett could be the diligent and doting dog beneath his feet. He would serve him til the end of his days, as he promised in this life and the next, and he would without question nor protest. It’d become his duty, his sole purpose, to shield him with his heart and mind, his body and soul, and to love him, truly, without condition nor expectation of his own. How wonderful it was to love and be loved by V, how fulfilling - like they’d always been meant to share their time together, at the end and beginning of all things where the smears of a tangerine sunrise bled into the clouds, unburdened by the pains of ages long past and mistake long forgiven.
A crooked smile pulled at the corners of his lips and he grinned cheekily at V.
V did not smile in return, his expression withdrawn and grim and - frightened, lonely, tortured.
His grin dissipated just as quickly as it’d come, and Garrett found himself instinctively gathering the sorcerer into his arms, hands splayed across his spine. With utmost care and sincerity, he pressed his forehead to V’s, sensing unspoken upset and distress.
“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” he murmured, a deep baritone to flutter and mingle along shared breaths. “Somethin’ happen? Babe?”
V stammered briefly, but he was not some sputtering child without the vocabulary to see it through. Rather, it seemed he simply did not have the strength, thinking it better not to speak such thoughts into the world. Or, perhaps he was organizing them each, stuffing them away into all the right compartments, categorizing them as they ought to be in the grand library of his mind. He thought and he thought, pursing his lips and unfurling them all the same, repeatedly, and his grounding stare had drawn away, glancing every which way.
And V had felt a terrible weight begin to settle and grow in his chest, a painful knowledge taking root in his very soul where Garrett had so happily lived… He saw him in the ocean of blackness that succeeded the passage of life, and he watched him crumple and die over and over again in the vast wreckage of Hell’s furious bid for power and the unstoppable war that precluded it. He hadn’t minded so much that he’d died himself in his own effort to survive, but couldn’t bear to suffer the truth of his mate’s despair and the trembling gasps of his final breaths, couldn’t stand the thought of him blaming himself for the cause and effect of a vicious, violent power struggle between the powers that be and all those who were lost in its sway. It need not be true for it to be a horror beyond his comprehension, and he’d have liked to believe he would’ve done anything to ease Garrett’s suffering in any life, any context - but, here, he could not, in the unconscious vagaries of his wakeful nightmares and sinister machinations of of his rotten mind. He had died epochs and eras before Garrett had finally shed himself of his purpose, deluding himself into heartfully believing he’d failed in his quest to find him and all the other members of their family. He was too good, a foolish man not unlike a golden retriever at heart, and no matter who or where he was, he would force himself to persevere at every cost to himself.
How he loved the devil so. How it burned within him. So much so that it dragged him out of bed and inspired only the desperate hunt for his mate.
“V?” Garrett pressed, snapping the warlock out of his thoughts.
“It’s-It’s nothing,” he insisted, but the wolfish demon saw through him and pressed some more, his stare unwavering. He relented, sheepishly. “I…thought I’d lost you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You might think it silly–”
“No, never,” Garrett said encouragingly, brushing their noses together, but it was far from it. He could still hear the rasping ache in his wordless voice as he collapsed into murk and blood, flashes of a bitter, acrid memory poisoning the addled mind. “Tell me what’s wrong; Let me help you, swee’heart.”
“It’s just– Oh, darling, I had an awful nightmare of you... at the beginning and end of all things.”
#cerberus x warlock#dmc v x oc#dmc v x male oc#dmc v#v is not vergil#dmc5#dmc5 v#devil may cry#devil may cry v#dmc fanfiction#dmcv fanfiction#dmc5 fanfiction#one shot#death /#angst /#nightmares /#blood /#gore /#insects /#maggots /
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What I’m up to
(Updated 2/6/2024)
Main Project:
Title: Portrait
Fandom: Merry Gentry
Characters: Sholto, OC, background characters
Ship: Sholto/OC
Concept: A photographer with a specialty in portraits of the fey gets an intriguing offer to fly to St. Louis and photograph a mysterious sidhe noble. What she finds is a man unlike any she's ever met, and a discovery about her own heritage that has her questioning everything her family told her about her relationship to the sidhe.
Status: Second draft; posting
Other Projects:
Working Title: Nøkken
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Folklore AU V, gender-neutral reader
Ship: V/gender-neutral reader
Concept: A folklore AU based on the nøkken character from Scandinavian folklore. A cautionary tale about approaching a beautiful man playing the fiddle in the middle of a lake
Working Title: Human
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: V, Nero, Kyrie, Nico
Ship(s): Nero/V, Nero/Kyrie
Concept: V wakes at the base of the Qliphoth, just before it falls. He’s without his familiars, without his demonic power, and without a purpose. He succeeded in his mission, and somehow he knows that Vergil is still whole. So why is he still here? Alone in a human world he’s only begun to understand, he can only think of one thing to do: Seek out Nero in Fortuna.
Status: First Draft
Untitled Silent Hill 4 Project: A classic Walter wakes up after the the events of SH4, resurrected and no longer under Valtiel’s influence. Meanwhile, Henry and Eileen are roommates living in a new city, trying to rebuild their lives. Bonus OC because I love OCs. Third person limited POV switching between Walter, Henry, Eileen, and the OC.
Status: First Draft
Untitled Devil May Cry Project #1: A Dante/OC story, the plot is still a secret. Started as a PWP, probably gonna be a novel-length fic with a complicated plot, because that’s how I roll.
Status: Burning a hole in my head.
#about elinor#dmc fanfiction#silent hill fanfic#dmc fanfic#dmc5 fanfiction#dmc5 fanfic#gangsta.#gangsta fanfic#gangsta fanfiction
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What's your Vergil Sparda headcanons sfw and nsfw (you don't have to make this one if you don't want it) :)
vergil (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼
omg why did it take me so long just to do simple headcanons 😭😭
┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼
some curse words, spoilers for vergil lore in general, spoilers for mission 08 and so forth in dmc5, nsfw is labelled before written so read at your own discretion!!
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
❥ sooo, in deep contrast to his twin brother, all know vergil is super serious
❥ i mean, if you spent a bunch of your time in hell, wouldn’t it take a toll on you too???
❥ because of what’s happened to vergil, it’ll be really difficult to actually get through to him
❥ even just small talk or simple touches are uncomfortable for him at the beginning
❥ and in order for him to trust you, you gotta be super persistent to actually stick with him
❥ i feel like vergils too stubborn for things like therapy, i don’t feel like he’d like to admit he needs help
❥ he’d probably keep going until he he overexerts himself or snaps, which would probably take a while considering he can endure a lot before giving in
❥ once you guys are actually together though, you’re essentially one step further to getting to the center of vergil because it means you’ve already broken down some of his walls
❥ vergils the type of guy to love silently, and maybe more distantly than a normal person would love
❥ but whoever said he was a normal person?
❥ he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings, so he takes up avoiding you as his own way in hopes that you’ll come to him
❥ you walk into a room? he walks out
❥ you sit next to him? he’ll keep his nose buried in a book or his work in hopes that you’ll ‘pester’ him
❥ don’t let his feigned annoyance fool you, he prays for you to approach him
❥ by no means is vergil shy, but when you spend so many years in hell.. you kinda lack social cues
❥ he obviously know what love is, he’s not clueless, but it feels different when it comes to you
❥ it almost feels foreign
❥ vergil loves showing off that your his and he’s yours, he’ll buy you a pendant with a blue gem or something with his name engraved in it
❥ if you whine enough, he’ll ‘give in’ (he’s just acting tough) and read to you at night ‘begrudgingly’
❥ if you read too, he’ll curtly leave a book that he think you’ll like on your nightstand when he comes home
❥ if you eat dinner at the table, he’ll have you sit next to him so he can lock ankles with you or link your pinkies under the table
❥ other than that, vergil’s not rlly into pda?
❥ if anything, he’ll stand next to you or sit close enough to where your legs or thighs touch. that’s kinda like his ver. of pda 😭
❥ if you get along with nero or if maybe v saw how you got along with him before you knew he was vergil, even if he treats nero as a pest, it somewhat confuses him?
❥ maybe even almost upsets him??
❥ it just gives him a glimpse on what he could’ve had, and i guess it somewhat creates a dull ache within him knowing he could’ve been a present figure in nero’s life with you
❥ def an early bird, the type of dude to kiss your forehead before he leaves in the morning because he know you won’t wake up to see him before he goes
❥ ugh just imagine vergil staring down at you for a minute, contemplating his decisions while looking at your serene form before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss to your forehead so as to not wake you up
❥ i need to be contained
❥ he wouldn’t let you see it but he sometimes cracks a smile at just the thought of doing mundane activities, even if they’re such small tasks, he still cherishes the thought of a small life with you even if he’s married to his work
❥ but god forbid you’re around dante though, and if you’re playful n teasing like him?? vergil will never hear the end of dante’s irritating tales told to you of when they were children
❥ it probably ends up with yamato pressed against dante’s throat but it’s all brotherly fun guys don’t worry
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
the familiar coos sung by the mourning doves fell deaf on VERGIL’s ears, only picking up your soft breaths as your chest rose up and down with each one you took. he couldn’t help but admire how comfortable you looked in your sleep—with your lips parted slightly and hair splayed out messily as it stayed trapped under you.
he cocked his head in bemusement at the sight of golden rays dancing on you collarbone, tinting the skin with the early sun of dawn. he was surprised you hadn’t woken up yet, considering the golden hue beamed along your face as well. one upside of getting to work early was seeing your peaceful face in the mornings. vergil studied your face as if he’d never see it again, and in a way, not seeing you again was very possible. due to being a devil hunter, risks were high. but vergil couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to you. he studied your face so carefully, eyes roaming across your skin to commit every single one of your features to memory.
his eyes of silver, once crinkled in pain and alone, now looked at you curiously as they caught every glimpse of you. the way your eyebrows furrowed when your mind swirled with its own concoction of your dreams, the way you changed positions to search for what he could only assume was the cold part of the pillow.
he felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched you stir in your sleep, turning your head over and allowing another angle of your beauty to be silently worshipped by your lover.
as he leaned down, he made sure to bend at the waist in order to make limited noise, cursing the material of his coat scrunching and making a slight sound as it crinkled. and as his lips connected with your forehead, he reveled in the smell of your shampoo from your shower that you took last night as he closed his eyes, holding his lips there in a feather light kiss.
then, just as quickly as they had been placed—his lips left your forehead as he began to exit the bedroom, taking one last glance at your resting form before he quietly closed the door.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎
❥ i know i just wrote that cute ass blurb but now that we’re talking nsfw, vergil is def a quick learner
❥ obviously it’ll take a while to initiate intimacy, and as aforementioned—even just hand holding takes a while for him to digest
❥ but shit, this man has stamina for days
❥ being half a demon definitely doesn’t help, but vergil can actually go so long in the sheets w you 😭
❥ he’ll be awkward at first, unsure of what to do but once you guide him and reassure him that it’s okay to touch you, you just unlocked smth else in him omg
❥ his libido isn’t very high, but on the days that you guys do get intimate, he can last a while
❥ he’ll assure that you both are satisfied by the end of it, likes to know that you’ve finished before him at least once
❥ if you’ve gotten really bratty or you’ve gotten him really into it, you might feel him borderline triggering as his claws dig into your hips a little more and his groans get more guttural
❥ sorry guys—this man will not bottom or be any sort of submissive, and if he does, you will need to be in a committed relationship for at least a year or two
❥ he def has control issues
❥ in terms of talking dirty, he still holds that sharp precise tone when he speaks
❥ i don’t feel like hes much a degrading guy? maybe more possessive talk if anything
❥ this man doesn’t cuss often, but occasionally if you clench around him, he’ll let out a small huff of, “shit.” even if it’s barely audible
❥ i think maybe he teases you a bit, enough just to get you hot and bothered so you’ll be writhing underneath him
❥ being half-demon gives him some package guys, trust
❥ vergil’s lengthier, a small sensitive vein on the underside of him that you could use to your advantage on the off chance you suck him off
❥ when vergils in a certain mood, he’ll kiss on your skin (another form of teasing) and murmurs praises of how divine you look
❥ he loves the way your hands grip at the sheets, or the way they rush to your mouth as you try to cover up those pretty sounds while he’s giving you pleasure—no matter how many times he tells you to let them slip out
❥ not a big fan of marks, either on him or you. he still has to go outside and so do you, he’d probably be pretty embarrassed if someone saw them and questioned what happened
❥ unlike dante, vergil is pretty quiet about his love and sex life, he likes to keep it pretty tame and under wraps
❥ prefers to make it intimate rather than a quick fuck, he wants you to feel every ounce of love in his movements—whether it’s with his tongue, hands, or just his length
❥ he likes to drag it out too, i’m not talking quickies, i’m talking about full on ‘love making’ sessions (yes, he’ll refer to them as that most of the time)
❥ like i said, he wants you to feel every last bit of it with his body, unless you want him to spew some poetry out of the blue expressing his feelings—he can’t express them with regular words for shit
❥ he wants you to see what you’re doing to him, how you affect him, what you mean to him is more important than anything
#devil may cry#devil may cry x reader#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc fanfiction#x reader#vergil sparda x reader#vergil sparda#vergil dmc#dmc vergil x reader#dmc vergil#devil may cry vergil#devil may cry vergil x reader#dmc5 vergil#dmc3 vergil#ODOTTIE *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*#kiss kiss
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Hi! Can I please request DMC boys (Dante, Nero and Vergil) and physical touch hcs with gn!reader? SFW and/or NSFW ;) Up to you. Thanks!
DMC Boys - SFW and N/SFW Headcanons:
Dante:
Dante is a very tactile person, so he's constantly touching you in various ways.
He loves wrapping an arm around your shoulders or waist, pulling you close to him whenever you're walking together.
Dante often playfully pokes or lightly taps your nose when he wants to get your attention or tease you.
Whenever you're sitting together, Dante tends to rest his hand on your thigh or hold your hand, absentmindedly tracing circles with his thumb.
He enjoys giving gentle back rubs or shoulder massages when you're feeling tired or stressed.
Dante often surprises you with sudden hugs from behind, burying his face in your hair and breathing in your scent.
Dante is a sensual lover who thrives on touch and exploration.
His hands wander freely across your body, memorizing every curve and contour, his touch setting your skin on fire.
Dante adores leaving a trail of light kisses along your neck and collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin.
He revels in teasing you with feather-light touches, driving you to the edge before finally granting you the release you crave.
Dante loves feeling your nails digging into his back as you cling to him, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.
Afterward, he holds you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
Nero:
Nero can be a bit awkward when it comes to physical touch, but he's slowly getting more comfortable expressing affection.
He loves holding your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, especially when you're in a crowded place.
Nero often traces patterns or doodles on the back of your hand or arm with his finger when you're sitting together.
He enjoys cuddling up to you on the couch or in bed, his head resting on your shoulder as he wraps his arm around your waist.
Nero likes running his fingers through your hair, gently untangling any knots he finds, and occasionally pressing soft kisses to your forehead.
When you're feeling down, Nero gives warm and comforting hugs, nestling his head against your neck, and softly murmuring words of reassurance.
Nero is passionate and eager to please, his touch filled with both intensity and tenderness.
His hands are firm and possessive, gripping your hips or thighs as he presses you against the wall or the bed.
Nero loves exploring every inch of your body with his lips and tongue, leaving a trail of heated kisses in his wake.
He takes delight in hearing your breath hitch and feeling your body arch beneath him as he discovers your most sensitive spots.
Nero's pace is a mix of controlled chaos and overwhelming desire, pushing you both to the brink of ecstasy.
Afterward, he holds you tightly, whispering words of adoration against your skin, relishing in the afterglow.
Vergil:
Vergil tends to be more reserved in expressing physical affection, but he has his moments of vulnerability.
He enjoys standing close to you, his presence magnetic and commanding, occasionally brushing his hand against yours.
Vergil often rests his hand on the small of your back when he's leading you or guiding you through a crowd, a subtle way of showing possessiveness and protection.
During quiet moments, he leans his head against yours, sharing the intimacy of being physically connected.
Vergil occasionally allows himself to relax and wrap his arms around you, resting his chin on your head as he takes in the moment of tranquility.
He's not one for extravagant displays, but when he does kiss you, it's slow and passionate, leaving you breathless.
Vergil is intense and commanding, his touch a potent combination of power and restraint.
His hands are deliberate and precise, tracing the lines of your body with reverence and hunger.
Vergil enjoys teasing you, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs, his touch lingering just long enough to leave you wanting more.
He's a master at building anticipation, taking his time to explore every inch of your body, leaving you trembling with desire.
Vergil's movements are controlled and calculated, his skillful touch bringing you to the edge and holding you there until you're begging for release.
Afterward, he cradles you against his chest, his touch gentle and soothing, his whispered praises and affectionate gestures showing a side of him only you get to see.
Your Devil,
Admin Sav
#DMC#devil may cry#dmc5#Dante#Vergil#dante devil may cry#vergil devil may cry#dmc vergil#vergil sparda#Nero#devil may cry 5#nero sparda#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#sparda x reader#devil may cry fanfiction#dante dmc x reader#vergil dmc x reader#nero dmc x reader#sparda dma x reader#devil may cry x reader#dante#sparda#vergil#nero
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Devil May Cry headcanon: Nero's surname
Nero never had a surname. They don't normally have nameless orphans to worry about in Fortuna, so there was no policy in place to give him one. He was fostered, but never adopted, so he never gained a family name that way.
But it never mattered. He was always known well enough to the people who would need to find him or refer to him, either through his unfortunate origins or status as a knight. He never needed a surname.
He never even realized he might need one until he started the mobile branch of Devil May Cry and some customers (though not all) expected to be given a surname. At first he just awkwardly or irritably explained that he doesn't have one.
Then, the events of DMC5 occur.
The next time Nero is asked to give a surname, instead of explaining yet again that he doesn't fucking have one, he gives the name Vergilson. It works. The name is accepted, he doesn't feel like an unwanted freak for once, and he gets to acknowledge where he came from for the first time in his life. So he keeps using the name. He even starts offering it when introducing himself to clients who don't demand a full name.
A few months later, Dante and Vergil return from the demon realm and Vergil and Nero start spending time together, trying to get to know one another. Nero uses the name without thinking when they take a job together. Without missing a beat, Vergil introduces himself as Vergil Spardason. The client is a little confused that Nero has his father's given name (since it's obvious he's his kid) instead of them sharing a surname, but assumes it's a culture thing since Nero clearly isn't from the mainland.
Nero is a little embarrassed, but he keeps using the name.
Vergil has to hide a smile every time he hears Nero introduce himself as Vergil's son.
#headcanons#ficlet#fanfiction#thoughts#Devil May Cry#DMC4#DMC5#Vergil#Nero#Nero Vergilson#Vergil Spardason#Capcom
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Best way to start your morning? Coffee and writing the next chapter of my fanfic for all you lovely peeps.
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vergil x reader any gender wholesome cuz i don't think that man really knows what sex is even if nero is a thing
Eternally Soul Bonded
Vergil (DMC5) x Yamato! reader
warnings: reader is a humanoid version of Yamato, reader is also a bit obssessed with Vergil (mild yandere behaviour?), cussing, a bit of angst, fluff
summary: after opening a portal two decades ago, Vergil has lost his most prized possession, his sword. What he doesn’t know is that it had been reformed as a humanoid somewhere around the world, and that it was ready to be with him again.
word count: 2.5k
a.n: I don’t know if you wanted wholesome sex or just wholesome, but this is what I cooked up. Sorry if it’s a little disappointing? I’ve had this idea brewing for a bit and there’s definitely room for expanded lore, so if you liked this, you can send me another ask so I can work more on this!
It was really cold for a while… and dark. You were used to darkness, but this was a different kind. It was lonely out here. When you came to, you weren’t yourself, and you weren’t with who you were supposed to be. You were alone.
You stood and wobbled, not used to this form… You leaned yourself against the damp walls of the alleyway you found yourself in, and noticed a puddle of water beneath your feet in which you could see your reflection. You looked… human? How was that possible?
Your mouth trembled as if you were trying to speak, but no voice came out. Your head hurt, and you could only vaguely remember two things: You were Yamato, and you belonged to Vergil, son of Sparda. Nothing else.
…
“It’s been 20 years, Vergil, knock it off, me and Nero already said we were sorry about what happened to the sword anyway, can’t you let it go?” Dante asked with an exasperated sigh, trying to move around the papers and documents Vergil had gathered over the years in his futile attemps at locating his sword.
“Let it go ? You’re pretty foolish if you think I’ll simply give up on the Yamato, Dante, it belongs to me and me alone.” Vergil snapped back “And it’s solely your fault that I don’t have it with me for the past two decades, so if you could please at least pretend you’re helping for two seconds.”
“I’m not good at pretending, brother” Dante snickered, leaning back against his chair “Besides, your sword has a connection to you, right? Just like mine? If it didn’t find you now, maybe it doesn’t want you anymore or somethin-”
Before Dante could finish his sentence, he was lifted off his chair by the collar, making the chair fall on the ground. Vergil gripped him tight and firmly, an unforgiving gaze painting his complexion.
“Don’t you dare utter another word out of that filthy mouth of yours” Vergil sneered between gritted teeth.
Dante simply smiled, before Vergil let go of him and walked away, leaving the agency and shutting the doors angrily as he left.
“Where is that ray of sunshine going to now?” Nero asked from the couch as he fiddled with his mechanical arm.
“Probably going to look for his sword in the sewers again or something, he’s completely lost it”
…
Vergil wasn’t a man to give up on the things he wanted, especially things that were his by right, like his sword. It didn’t matter to him if it had been two days or two decades, he was determined to recover Yamato, no matter what.
After another week of searching in the surrounding areas, going as far as to go through the entire city and the cities next to it, when he was about to turn back, he felt something.
A spark, almost.
And he knew. It was Yamato.
Frantic, almost desperate, he began to blindly follow that spark… bumping into people, getting his boots dirty, it didn’t matter. He had never felt this close to it before.
It was a rare sight to see Vergil this disheveled and unhinged, but there he was, as he stood by an alleyway, hair having come undone, clothes dirty and unkempt. And so he saw it…but his expression showed disappointment.
“…What is the meaning of this?”
What stared back at him wasn’t his sword, but a person. Unclothed, and human. You.
Despite his expression, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you, as well as relief. You wobbled towards him, stopping just before him to face him.
“….V….ergil?” Came out from your lips like a shaky whisper, and, as if you had spoken for the first time in your life, you touched your lips in surprise from the voice that came out of you.
Vergil on the other hand however, didn’t know what to make of this situation at all. He stared, his eyes searching for anything that could be missing… but he couldn’t ignore the sensation he felt. This… was somehow… what he had been looking for for the past 20 years.
“…This can’t be… Yamato?” Vergil finally asked in disbelief, visibly struggling to make sense of it all.
Hearing that name made your eyes widen. It felt familiar but also strangenly distant. Was that who you were? Something in you told you yes, but at the same time… it was if you weren’t just that anymore.
In a flash, memories came forward… The moment Vergil used Yamato to open the portal 20 years ago, and what happened afterwards. How your body broke and transformed, and you were left in that voidless darkness for however long it had been. That changed you.
The information was too much for you. You felt your consciouness waver, and before you realized, you had collapsed against the man.
…
Once you came to, you weren’t in the alleyway anymore, you were in a bed, and clothed. Opening your eyes slowly, you could faintly hear voices from outside of the room.
“You’ve completely fucking lost it, haven’t you? Bringing in a random homeless person here and claiming that’s Yamato?”
“I wouldn’t have brought a random person if I wasn’t sure, Dante. I’m not insane. I can’t explain it, but that really is my sword. It’s… just… different.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a vision test, brother? Because I sure do not see a sword anywhere in that room.”
“I don’t know how to explain what happened, but the connection is there. I can feel it. I don’t know how or why, but when we met, it… they… recognized me. This can’t be a coincidence.”
“Oh, so let me get this straight, after relentlessly looking for Yamato for the past two decades, you suddenly ‘feel a spark’ that leads you to a dirty alleyway where you find a naked person who mutters your name, and suddenly that just explains that you found what you were looking for? Holy shit, you really did lose it.”
“You wouldn’t understand the type of connection I have to Yamato in the first place, Dante. It lead me to Nero when he took it, and it led me to it again. I just have to understand why it looks like… that.”
“You know what? Do whatever you want, Vergil but don’t get me involved in this. If the police comes knocking by about kidnapping or something, I’m not here.”
You could barely understand what they were saying… but you had a feeling they were talking about you. You sat up, looking at the loose shirt you were given… it had his scent. Your memories were fuzzy and your brain hurt, but you were relaxed… he had found you and that was all that mattered.
After a couple of minutes, Vergil had entered the room you were in, looking thoughtful and rather preocuppied. You watched as he approached you and sat at the edge of the bed next to you. For a few moments, it was silent between the two of you… until he started speaking, finally.
“…Tell me everything you remember.”
You took a moment, something within you made sure you knew that depending on the answer you gave, it’d dictate what would happen next.
“…I was… alone, for a very long time.” You began.
You told him all you remembered… the portal, the darkness, the rift. You couldn’t tell exactly that two decades had passed, but you could definitely tell you had been alone for a while. You told him moments you two had in battle, how you tried to talk to him, to give him strength, to give him more power, but that no matter what, it seemed there was a wall between you that couldn’t be broken, because at the end of the day, you were merely a tool.
You told him how you felt all those times, how you felt when you were apart, but that’s when he raised a hand to interrupt you.
“Stop.” Vergil spoke, clearly convoluted with his thoughts and feelings. “How… do you know about all that? It… doesn’t make sense.”
“…I… have always been by your side.”
“…But you’re not Yamato. I don’t even understand what you are exactly.” He spoke, staring at you.
“…I don’t have a satisfactory answer for you to explain my nature, Vergil.” You spoke rather calmly despite the situation. “…As your tool or not, I had always been capable of feeling. It’s what connected us to begin with. The thirst for power, of growing stronger… it’s what filled us.”
“Stop it.” Vergil stood, troubled. “Don’t talk as if we’re intimate, it isn’t possible we are connected in any way. What do you know about the sword? Where is Yamato?”
“…You feel it, too… don’t you?” You asked, lightly touching your own chest. “…The spark. It’s what reactivated my memories, as well.”
Silence fell in the room again. Vergil simply shut his mouth and turned away, walking out of the room and shutting the door. You stared, leaning back against the pillows and sighing, staring at the ceiling. Truth be told, if you knew of a way to go back to being his weapon, you would do it. But you didn’t understand what was happening to you either. You didn’t know why things were the way they were, but you knew the rift changed you.
You were satisfied with just being by Vergil’s side again, but clearly, that wasn’t something Vergil was happy about. You couldn’t blame him though, he wanted a sword and what he got was a person. You were of no use to him the way you were.
Was… he going to throw you away?
That thought alone made you spring up, leaving the bed and wobbling to the door, opening it. Vergil was no longer there, and you felt a rush of what could only be processed as anxiety as you wobbled through the corridors to try and find him.
You told him everything you remembered, you knew he felt that connection as well, so he couldn’t simply throw you away, right? He couldn’t. He couldn’t. You were his, and he was yours and he just couldn’t do that to you.
“I’m afraid you were right, brother.” You heard him speak downstairs, making your eyes widen. “I think… my obssession with finding Yamato had made me sick.”
You’re filled with rage. How dare he? How dare he discard you as if you were nothing?
In a fit, you jump, and without a second’s notice, your hand is through Vergil’s stomach in a mighty stab. The man gasps.
“W-What….the….-”
“Vergil!” Dante exclaims, before something takes place: Vergil’s Devil Trigger is activated.
It shouldn’t have been possible.
Just as it shouldn’t be possible for his sword to look, act or even present itself as a human.
But there you were… a physical manifestation of Vergil’s sword. You were there, and you were real.
…
4 months have passed since then.
Nero and Dante don’t get involved with you and they had expressed a lot of disapproval once Vergil had decisively shared he’d keep you around a few months ago.
Naturally, Dante didn’t want Vergil to permanently crash in the agency’s building, especially carrying whatever you were with him, so the two of you had to go somewhere else.
A run-down apartment building in a shady part of town was all he could afford, which was not very fitting for someone of Vergil’s standards. However at this point in time, there wasn’t much to be done about it.
“…We should try it again.” Vergil spoke, seeing you on the floor, breathing heavily. “We’re close, I can feel it.”
“…I don’t know how to do it, I don’t know if I can go back to being Yamato again, Vergil.” You shakily responded, looking up at him from where you were.
“You already know you have its powers within you, I wouldn’t have kept you otherwise, you know you can do this” He exclaimed, but backed away once he looked at your face, noticing your expression.
There were small tears in your eyes, you bowed your head. He would’ve left you if you hadn’t triggered his devil form back then? It explained the relentless attempts at trying to make you unlock your potential in these past few months. You thought this was for another purpose… because he did believe you were part of him, that he was simply trying to restore the connection you two had. You understood now.
“…Why can’t you just accept me for the way things are right now?” You shakily asked. “…Back then, I was more than just your sword, I was more than just a tool, we were one.” You gripped the floorboards with your nails. “…Why can’t you see we’re connected regardless of what I am?! What do I have to do to prove it to you?!”
“…If you were truly Yamato, you would know better than to be dependant on such fickle emotional bonds. What we have is tied to our ability to grow stronger. Nothing more.”
“You’re lying!” You shouted, standing and forcefully gripping him by the collar. “…I asked you if you felt that spark I felt when we met and you refused to answer me. Each and every time I ask about our connection, about how it feels for you, you refuse to give in, refuse to let me know what you’re thinking and what’s going on in your head. I know you feel it, and that you’ve felt it all along, so don’t make me feel ridiculous about it when I know you’re not a cold slab of stone like you’re trying so hard to seem to me and everyone around you.”
“You didn’t keep me just so you could figure out if I could go back to being a sword or not. I know you, Vergil… you just don’t want to be alone.” You whispered, before letting him go.
“…” Vergil was silent for a moment. “…You’re weak.”
“…I’m a direct reflection of your inner turmoils, Vergil. If I’m weak, then what are you?”
You could see Vergil’s lips trembling, as if he was trying to think of something to say. But no words came out, only tears. It was the first time you’ve seen Vergil cry.
You lightly approached him again, and wrapped your arms around him. He fell to his knees, and surprinsingly, hugged you back.
“…You’ve never been alone, Vergil. I had always been with you” You whispered, making sure to hold him close.
“…I can’t endorse in these emotions. They make me weak.” Vergil stammered, struggling to contain his tears.
“…It’s just the two of us… You don’t have to be anything for anyone, much less to me. You can just be… you.” You looked back. “…Allow me to just be me, Vergil… allow things to be different.”
You sat there a while.
It would probably take a long time for Vergil to accept the new reality of things. To accept he wasn’t alone, and more importantly, that he was loved by someone.
But it didn’t matter.
You’d stay with him until he understood. You had stayed with him for a long time… and you would stay with him until the ends of time.
In this form, you could be everything Vergil needed. A friend. A partner. Someone he could have an unbreakable bond for all eternity.
#dmc5#oc x canon#canon x reader#devil may cry#dmc fanfiction#devil may cry fanfiction#vergil x reader#vergil fanfiction#vergil sparda#dmc vergil#dmc x you#vergil devil may cry#ask#fanfic ask#dmc ask
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Vergil beans
Tap here!
#devil may cry#dmc#dmc fanart#dmc fandom#dmc fanfiction#devil may cry 5#dmc5#dmc5 v#devil may cry fanfiction#vergil dmc#dmc5 vergil#dmc vergil#dmc3 vergil#sparda family#sparda twins#dmcbeans#dmc beans
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🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Confessions features Alcohol (Sometimes) ✦ Dante x gn!Reader
⌕ summary: Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Yet, at that night, it seems he's up to something with that drunk, big mouth of his.
notes: my god I'm nervous asf. um, hi y'all, guess who's back at writing after almost full 5 months of hiatus? that's right, we're back in action! i finally finished this little, silly oneshot that was rotting in my docs for... 7 months? geez, me and my lazy ass. anyways! i hope you all enjoy the reading! i wrote this with 4dante in mind but honestly, it can be any Dante, it's up to your imagination <3
⋆ 08/07/23 edit: i forgot to mention, but this fic was born thanks to this writing prompt, i just couldn't found it easily hehe
♡ word count: 1.125
♡ tags: fluffy, gender-neutral reader, no use of pronouns or reader's appearance description (you/yours used only), mentions of alcohol, drunk Dante (and he's sooo soft), Dante might be ooc sorry in advance, love confessions.
ⓘ gif's not mine!!
Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Truth be told, specifically that night was not one where you enjoyed a patient mood, especially with the drunken Devil Hunter lying on the worn leather sofa and every half minute calling you and even dropping occasional flirtations. You were now in the kitchen, dedicating yourself to washing a considerable amount of dishes while from the corner of your eye you watched Dante, posture still relaxed and with a smile easily more dancing than usual, making sure that he wouldn't do anything that would mean usual danger for a person guided by the lack of sense that alcohol usually provides. However, the brief thought swept out of your mind; it was Dante. The man had a natural, bizarre attraction to danger.
That's when the handsome half-demon shook his head, his clear, icy-colored irises glazed over your back-to-back figure. Dante pouted for not getting the attention he wanted so much, then opened his mouth and verbalized his need.
"Babe," he began, loud enough that his voice scrambled from earlier hours' whiskey filled the short distance between them. You, however, sighed, determined to ignore him until he fell asleep from some miraculous, alcoholic effect.
Which was definitely not a good choice. Dante hated being ignored.
"Baaabe..."
"What is it now, Dante?" you answered over your teeth. He whimpered at such harshness.
"Don't be like that, loveee," he whined through his tone, "You're being a big meanie to me today, y'know that?"
"A meanie? Me?" your heels pivoted so that you were now facing him, one hand on your hips and your brow forming an arc of curiosity. "Why?"
Dante sipped the rest of a bottle of Jack Daniels, exhaling audibly at the end. Once again his typical smile grew at the corners of his mouth; you gulped, blinked and woke up to your somewhat glassy-eyed state attached in the Devil Hunter.
What exactly would it take for a man like Dante to be so attractive?
"Because I want attention," he replied, a simple retort that made the inside of your chest heave and your hand on your waist falter. Dante, although drunk, seemed to notice this act and widened the left corner of his feline smile even more. "And you're being a meanie 'cause you're not paying attention to me. Come here, sugar… I want smoochies."
At other times, you would chuckle and brush it off. It was common for you to deal with the half-demon on these alcohol-soaked nights, whether they were made up of flirtations and jokes or tears and outbursts — a part of you, even if momentarily, was grateful for the night's choice to be the first alternative. But something in Dante's tone alerted the part that was costing your frustrated attempts at concealment, the very same part that just now stirred just by witnessing his smile and the permanent gaze on you.
It didn't take that much clairvoyance to see the obvious: you were undeniably in love with Dante. A passion that you swore was, somehow, one-sided.
Your impatience melted away and the silence permeating the air of the place became metamorphic; from casual to uncomfortable. Dante tilted his head, waiting for an answer from you. You sighed, returned your focus to the last dishes and resigned yourself to drying them as a form of slight distraction.
"Dante, you're drunk."
He laughed briefly between words, "Tell me something I don't know, angelcake."
"You're talking nonsense."
"Maybe. But I still want some smoochies… Unless you don't want them, it's fine by me."
Once your work with the dishes was duly finished, you once again looked over your shoulder at him. Dante's lids drooped as the silent minutes passed by, his voice quieting, silver strands trailing across the back of the couch as he laid his head down. He was finally falling asleep.
You approached the half-demon's sleeping figure, uttering a 'tsk, tsk' which elicited a small chuckle.
"What do I do with you, Dante?"
The end of this night would be like that of many others, it would be up to you the arduous mission of putting Sparda's beautiful son to bed. Arduous for he certainly wasn't the lightest of beings and even though the habit made it look easy, your human muscles totally begged to differ.
Grunting as you struggled to carry him bridal style, you climbed the stairs to the top floor and with a little sacrifice managed to open the door to Dante's room. Before leaving him on the bed, babbling came directly from him, who now accommodated his face in the crook of your neck.
"Y'know, you're amazing…"
Subtly taken aback, you choose to listen to what the sleepy Dante had to say — for curiosity and for the unique, strong beat your heart emitted.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You're also beautiful, and smart, and funny, and hot…" from there, you became hot with embarrassment as Dante's voice wakes up again, "You're so much fun! Man, no wonder I'm in love with you."
Your heart, happy and passionate, fluttered inside your ribcage. Your eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets. The surprising, heated euphoria altered your body temperature. Your arms softened like a sweet pudding, swaying and unconsciously allowing Dante to fall to the ground.
"... Ow..."
It wasn't possible, was it? Was it the illusions of the booze, or was Dante really in love with you too?
You gasped as you realized what you'd done, rushing to get the half-demon back in your arms in a fleeting act of trying to regain consciousness and collect all your agitated — but now happy — thoughts.
All right. Dante was known for many attributes, one of them was his frankness. And being drunk this same frankness was reinforced tenfold, in fact. There would be no reason for him to lie.
However, words like these had a huge impact.
You took a deep breath, carefully positioning Dante on the soft mattress and giving him one last look to make sure you didn't just lay him down and that he was comfortable enough. He mumbled as if he was in an argument with sleep, now lying face down on the bed. Your hand snaked into the untidy silver hair to pull it back from Dante's stunning face, your heart calmer and moving to a slower beat. You smiled, your eyes wryly drunk on the man's sleeping vision.
"Sweet dreams, daredevil."
You gave a shy peck on his cheek. Dante stretched a petit smile, and yours grew. Leaving the dark room, you headed for yours, even more wrapped in your feelings, which you now knew were reciprocated.
Quite a confession that could only have the signature of someone like Dante.
cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are welcome!
#devil may cry#devil may cry x reader#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc dante#dante devil may cry#dante x reader#dante sparda#dante sparda x reader#x reader#reader insert#fluffy fanfiction#gender neutral reader#dante x gender neutral reader#dmc3#dmc4#dmc5#devil may cry dante x reader
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ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴍᴄ ᴠ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ
mummy kink
knowing that he’s sensitive is what makes you eager to suck V’s cock so often, listening to him whimper and tense in response to your wet mouth kept you going.
holding eye contact and spitting against his size usually earned a energised reaction from him and—submissive he’d become whenever you’d compliment how good he tastes in your mouth.
kitten licking his tip and whirling the tip of your tongue against his slit, eyes flirtatious and laced with erotica while you massages his swollen sac, hearing how desperate and frantic his moans would become when he’d hold your head, silently begging you to take his entire cock with your mouth.
thus, you would but not before hearing him beg with his words. “say you want to cum in my pretty mouth baby boy,” you’d hum, eyes glinting with tease, aware with how addicted he was to your opening. “mummy wants to hear you say it.”
“mummy I want to cum in your mouth!” he’d shamefully moan, voice built with impatient pitch as he’d move his hips upwards, forcing his shaft through your moan which would tick off a content response from you, allowing the man to take your throat with his cock, gagging at the length of his size licking the back of your throat.
“such a good boy,” you’d moan when you’d pull his length out your mouth, sucking the head of his dick once more while the desperate and submissive groans continued to escape from the back of his throat.
“im your good boy—im your good boy!” he’d echo, his frantic moans caked with a sheet of possessiveness. eyes stirred shut while he continued to sing your ownership of him while aggressively rocking his hips inside your mouth, milking his climax and allowing his load to paint your throat with his hot and white load. “im your good boy—im your good boy,” he’d whisper while his shaft flinched and twitched the rest of his cum inside of your mouth.
the soft drag of your mouth sending him to an episode of tiredness, his hand over his stomach while his eyes had been a shadow, weakly aware of your movements as you sat on your knees, content of the position you had him in.
⚸
i was in a feral mode while writing this idk
#dmc v#dmc#dmc5#dmc v x reader#dmc v x you#dmc v smut#dmc v lemon#v lemon#v dmc#v dmc x you#v dmc x reader#devil may cry#devil may cry 5#devil may cry fanfiction#devil may cry v
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So, I've never played the Devil May Cry games. However, I've fallen in love with the characters and the storyline. So have this short little Vergil fic that I just had to get out of my head.
If you guys like this, I'll add DMC to my list of fandoms I write for.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, ooc Vergil (maybe? I'm not sure)
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Feral
This job was supposed to be an easy one.
Get in, clear out the nest of demons, and get out.
And yet, here you were, fighting off waves of demons with Vergil, the two of you having separated from Nero and Dante in an attempt to cover more ground.
You are a very skilled fighter. Your ability to keep up with the sons of Sparda in a fight was what had earned you your current job at Devil May Cry.
But, right now, you felt less like a skilled fighter and more like an animal.
The two short swords you typically wielded had found purchase in a pair of demons a while ago and you hadn't been able to recover them since. The only other weapon you had was a dagger about 4 inches in length. It was effective enough, but the lack of distance between you and the creatures left you feeling almost feral. Like a caged beast, lashing out at anything that drew too close.
In a brief moment of hyper awareness, you caught a glimpse of blue leather out of the corner of your eye. You turned your gaze and spotted Vergil only a few feet away from you.
The half-devil hadn't even broken a sweat.
His silver hair was still immaculate and his gaze was as cool and confident as ever.
Vergil moved with such grace that, for a moment, it looked more like a dance.
Then you spotted it, the winged demon flying at Vergil, just out of his line of sight.
The dagger left your hand before you could even think. Within a second, the blade had connected with the creatures head. It landed with such force that it's body was pinned to a nearby wall.
The pride that swelled in your chest was cut short by the immediate realization that you were now without a weapon.
But there wasn't time to dwell on the realization as the demons wasted no time in trying to rip you apart.
You were, once again, a caged beast fighting for survival.
You immediately went on the defensive, dodging and weaving around their attacks as best you could. But there was only so much you could do without a weapon.
You desperately scanned your surroundings for anything to defend yourself.
Then you saw it, just out of the corner of your eye.
A beautiful katana sticking out of a demons body. The white cord wrapped around the hilt looked more like a beacon of hope in that moment.
With no time to think, or even fully recognize the blade, you pulled it from the deceased creature.
The blade was almost electric in your grasp, a strange energy flowing through your body.
It was as if your body began moving on it's own. You cut through every demon that came within reach with a grace you never thought yourself capable of.
As the last of the creatures fell, you were pulled from the haze of battle by a familiar voice.
"Perhaps I should let you use the Yamato more often."
At Vergil's words, you finally looked at the weapon in your hand.
Sure enough, it was the Yamato.
"I- I'm sorry. I di- didn't realize." The shock was clear in your voice.
Vergil never let the katana out of his reach. The blade being in your hand instead of his felt almost like a sin.
But, when you finally met his gaze, there was no anger there. Only pride, and something else that you couldn't quite place.
"It's quite alright." Vergil began to saunter over to you. "It looks better in your hands." He smirked.
"I'd have to disagree." You grinned, a sudden sense of confidence rising at his flirtations.
As Vergil drew closer, you held the hilt out for him to take.
He reached forward and took the hilt his grasp, but he didn't take it. Vergil simply stood there, gazing down at you.
At such close proximity, you were finally able to place that second emotion in his gaze.
It was lust.
Vergil leaned closer, his nose brushing teasingly against yours.
Your eyes fluttered shut, your body shuttering in anticipation of what would come next.
His lips brushed gently over yours.
He moved to close what little distance remained and-
"There you two are! We were wondering what was taking so long!"
At the sound of Dante's voice the two of you jolted apart, Vergil taking the Yamato with him.
#honeypot96#dmc devil may cry#dmc#dmc vergil#vergil devil may cry#vergil x reader#vergil sparda#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc5#dmc5 vergil#devil may cry x reader#dmc5 x reader#vergil sparda x reader
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'Ello luv, it's been a while since I saw someone writing for DMC ugh, miss when dmc(5) was trending... What a good time!
I don't know if your requests are open or not, but catch up with me!! Our pretty girls and boys with a vampire!reader! Or or— A WITCH! BOTH
Like, you choose if it's a bunch of headcanons, blurbs, a full one shot with a character or not, I just really want to see it!
Well, obviously if you can do it honey, if you can't it's fine <3
dmc crew dating a vampire 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
devil may cry x reader
┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼
this was actually my first request on this blog!! i don’t know why i put it off for so long bc it’s literally so cool?? i ended up just doing a vampire instead of witch/vampire witch so i hope you guys enjoy considering my phone crashed trying to copy n paste this from my notes to tumblr 💋
┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼
blood (but in the vampire way ykyk), fangs and mentions of sharp teeth, intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in v’s,
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ you are literally so hot in DANTE’s eyes, you could honestly do no wrong.
❥ i think you guys already know what i’m gonna say..
❥ if you feed on blood or need it for some sort of sustenance, dante will gladly volunteer. he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.
❥ although, i’m not sure if vampires much like demon blood..
❥ eh, oh well. dante will still think it’s attractive, especially if you have fangs or some sort of sharper canines.
❥ only downside to being a vampire and dating dante is that you’ll occasionally hear a super bad transylvanian accent. like.. really bad.
❥ but!! if you’re also a demon hunter like him— and you have some cool freaky powers like draining blood or energy from empusas or really just any ability that’s useful, it’s heart eyes all around from him.
❥ you could be covered in blood or feasting on something and then you’ll spot dante in the corner wielding devil sword dante after defeating like seventy fuckin other demons and he’s just.. mesmerized.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ VERGIL’s much more curious about your species. do you have any weaknesses? are the fictionalized versions of your kind portrayed accurately? what are you exactly?
❥ luckily he’s a lot more quiet about his curiosity compared to, maybe— nico. his staring is intimidating, though. when he sits with you or near you, he’ll usually just study you. maybe it looks like he’s judging but he’s really just analyzing your appearance. especially if you have any distinctive features.
❥ if you have that dark ruddy aesthetic, he’ll likely admire from afar even if red isn’t exactly his favorite color.
❥ if you really needed it, he’d let you feed off of him although it’s definitely not his first choice. he’s not really a fan of being bitten, especially if you need to bite his neck or something like that.
❥ probably finds some esoteric artistic poem or painting with an underlying meaning of having to do with vampires and thinks of you every time he looks at it.
❥ his gothic poetic side is showing
❥ ugh i just wanna kiss his scowl so bad but i also wanna punch him.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ nero literally thinks it’s so cool.
❥ he might be a little wary once he first meets you? like are you gonna tackle him rn and sacrifice him with your own lil blood ritual?
❥ but once he finds out you’re docile or that you pick and choose on whom you feed on, he’s like, “oh okay that’s cool”
❥ probably like dante where the only version he knows of vampires are the hollywood adaptations of them. so like.. he’s confused if you can go into sunlight? or you can eat certain foods? or if you can go near churches??
❥ he, too, thinks you’re super hot. however!! very iffy about you drinking blood or feeding in front of him. not like it grosses him out but it’s kinda.. weird to watch for him?? idk.
❥ another thing is that he doesn’t want you biting him at all. he’s like vergil where he’ll be baffled if you even ask, except he’s super hesitant to offer himself unless you’re super injured and in dire need of it.
❥ just step on him to shut him up atp
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ V’s goth ass won’t shut up about how divine your species is and how fascinating he finds you.
❥ curious on your feeding habits and what you essentially need to survive, tries to find any and every book that he can about vampires so he can learn about you even more.
❥ he’s like those people who romanticize the 1800s or the salem witch trials or greece or ethel cain or lana del rey while kicking their feet and posting about it. he will find a way to make the situation poetic, trust me.
❥ finds it amusing if you’re annoyed by griffon’s teasing and threaten to eat him first if you were to ever go rogue, you might even be able to get a close mouthed chuckle out of v.
❥ utterly fascinated by just your very being, even if it’s just mundane traits. especially loves to see your fangs, dunno why but they’re just aesthetically pleasing to him.
❥ considering he’s kinda like a deteriorating human that’s basically turning into a husk, i wouldn’t recommend feeding on him unless you plan to kill him—which who would wanna murder our emo bae right here? (capcom)
❥ the type of person to roll his eyes at false folklore and representation because he’s literally in love with an actual vampire?? how dare they portray you like this??
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓛ADY — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ LADY also finds you super hot!!
❥ also interested because she’s probably never seen a vampire outside of media— so it’s a nice change of pace rather than being face to face with demons all day.
❥ despite all this, after the initial introduction, i’m not sure she’d care too hard? like— sure, you’re considered a supernatural being and all that.
❥ and although she thinks it’s super dope, i feel like it wouldn’t matter as much to her. she’s seen and done a lot of things at such a young age, i feel as though she’s almost desensitized?
❥ she’s so badass she can’t even care. she’s literally respected by dante, whom is titled ���the legendary devil hunter’. (dmc5 did her dirty with her lack of part in the storyline 💔)
❥ she’ll respect any of your needs, and ngl also thinks you biting into her neck is hot.
❥ kinda surprised that you’re able to go out into sunlight even if she’ll never tell you that 😭
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓣RISH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ another one who doesn’t care that much. it’s not like TRISH is dismissive of your species and where you come from, but she’s literally a full on demon who’s probably seen everything.
❥ you guys r so hot though, like the ultimate power couple.
❥ oh, and if you’re a devil hunter, too? you guys r gonna kick sm ass together. she’ll invite you to roll around with her for a while rather than with dante, although if you’re associated with devil may cry then that’s fine too. she’ll put up with dante’s ass just to visit you more often.
❥ i don’t recommend feeding off of trish?
❥ idk how vampires take to drinking demon blood
❥ but shit, if you have that red aesthetic and are just a total femme fatale (or other gender equivalent to that), trish is in charge of your outfits now.
❥ don’t even fight it, you will end up in the outfit regardless.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ICO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
❥ oh boy
❥ if you’re lucky enough to survive the first meeting with NICO and you end up actually being in a relationship? you are def a trooper.
❥ when you’re first introduced, she bombards you with questions.
❥ where did you come from? do you have powers? are you like a demon and are there more of you? if so, can she harvest parts for a new bio-weapon? do vampires reproduce the same as humans? are you gonna suck her blood??
❥ she’s just a curious lady cut my girl some slack
❥ she thinks you’re so cool though!! wants you to tell her everything you know about vampires so she can log it. even if you’ve been in a long term relationship, she still can’t help but ask more questions.
❥ but!! as cool and hot as she thinks you are— like nero, she does not wanna see you feed and does not wanna be fed on!! (except.. maybe just one time to see how it feels.)
❥ ugh she just loves you sm please indulge her
#devil may cry#devil may cry x reader#dmc fanfiction#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc5#dmc4#dmc3#dmc dante x reader#dante sparda x reader#dmc vergil x reader#vergil sparda x reader#dmc nero x reader#nero sparda x reader#dmc v x reader#v dmc x reader#vitale x reader#dmc lady x reader#dmc trish x reader#dmc nico x reader#nicoletta goldstein x reader#ODOTTIE *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*#kiss kiss
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How would the Dmc boys (Dante, Nero, Vergil, V and reboot twins) react to a shy and quiet SO? SO is calm and nurturing and s/he has a natural gift to care for others.
DMC dudes x shy/quiet S/O
Hi these are more short than my usual HC since it's 4 characters, also sorry I will not write about the reboot twins, especially reboot dante...what did they do to his poor poor hair :"(
...
Nero
☆ I think at first he'd be a little wary of letting you near him, since yknow he's associated with lots of dangerous business including literally him (his previously demon arm and all that)
☆ Would be a little uneasy and doubt that he's able to protect you and would want you to go to someone better
☆ he's just too overwhelmed by your cuteness and doesn't want to get you involved with his cruel world
☆ Regardless if you somehow stick by him and his friends he really appreciates how you care for everyone and can lift up their spirits
☆ If Dante is being too straight forward or loud for you he'd have your back and try to kick his ass a little so he can leave you to have your peace and quiet + would try his best to make sure your comfortable
V
♤ He too Is somewhat quiet and reserved but he's definitely not shy, very bold if I may
♤ ofc means he'd tease you now and there but nothing too make you too uncomfortable, he's a weird dude after all
♤ about the "caring for others" I'd see him get a little jealous about that and doubt himself. why not only him?
♤ If at anytime you don't want to talk to someone that's approaching you cuz shyness don't worry he can do the talking, has so many topics to chat about from all those books or can simply tell them to go away I don't think he'd mind
♤ Griffon would tease both of you and especially try to annoy you about being so quiet all the time, I think shadow would enjoy your calmness
Vergil
♧ Just like V he is more on the bold side,,,,except for when it comes to emotions
♧ I do think I'd be good for him to be with someone patient and nurturing since it's hard for him to face his emotions sometimes
♧ No doubt about protecting you, he's powerful and he knows it
♧ Whenever he needs to lay down and relax he'd appreciate your presence a lot as it brings him a piece of your calmness
♧ Would be a little annoyd ngl if you care for Dante sometimes xd
♧ If anyone or anything is ever overstepping your boundaries say your last prayer for them cuz they gone foreva
Dante
♡ Somehow you end up with this explosion of a guy
♡ opposites attract I suppose
♡ At first just like Nero, wouldn't want someone like you involved with him, a devil
♡ somehow you couldn't resist eatchother so here you are with this guy having his life sworn to take care of you
♡ But of course nurturing and caring for Dante is important and it kind of baffles him how someone can be so kind to anyone and expect nothing in return
♡ Dante would also try to help with your shyness, if you want to of course
♡ Would melt his heart if you try to help Vergil, Dante wants the best for him and you 2 can annoy him together now :D
#fanfic#headcanons#x reader#devil may cry 5#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc#dante dmc5#dante x reader#nero dmc5#nero x reader#v dmc5#v x reader#dmc v x reader#dmc5 vergil#vergil x reader#dante sparda x reader#dante sparda#vergil sparda#dmc5 v#vergil#nero sparda#fluff#dmc x reader
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May I please request fluffy domestic headcanons for Sparda boys? Just quiet home life with their SO, they deserve it so much :'-)
**Hey Anon! it'd be my pleasure! these boys deserve a long nap and some cuddles as their lives are so chaotic haha. Thanks for requesting this! - Bean**
Devil May Cry: Dante, Vergil, Nero Domestic Headcanons with their S/O
*Gender neutral pronouns for S/O*
Dante:
Considering he's out for jobs a lot to pay the bills, when on his off days he's very laidback and not wanting to do anything at all. Most of the time he's begging his S/O to come lay with him when they're up and about, He's a cuddle monster and will not let his partner go once he has his grip on them.
Loves the quiet moments he gets. whether him and his S/O be cooking (aka forcing him to save money instead of spending it on pizza much to Dante's whining), laying in bed watching old reruns of corny romance movies with them or just spending the day away doing nothing at all, he cherishes them. He's a very busy man and has seen the horrors from literally hell and back, so for him to spend a day doing nothing and to be around the person he loves the most it gives him a glimpse of a life of normality he craves oh so much.
Wants to wake his S/O up with breakfast in bed, as you know it's what a normal domestic couple would do right? but every time this man sleeps in way past 1pm to the point he gets briefly upset if he finds out his S/O was up before him which spoils his plans. (he's catching up on like 20+ years of sleep, he's knocked out cold.)
Loves to take bubble baths, it's a luxury he didn't have until he had his shop (and when his water bill is paid), but only saves them for times when he can share them with his S/O and cause you know water ain't cheap?
Overall he loves the quiet home life him and his S/O have when life isn't constantly trying to throw deadly demonic curveballs at him but he wouldn't change it for the world.
Vergil:
Relaxing? Vergil? no chance, this man is always up and ready to pounce whenever the next threat or fool tries to challenge him. But with a S/O he will calm down just a tiny bit but still always on high guard.
When he's truly comfortable, he seeks to be alone. but the only exception he'll accept is with his S/O, Most of the time it's him sat reading a book with his S/O fast asleep hugging him.
He has a stash like Dante. but this time it's books, piles and piles of Books. You won't find him reading any romance novels anytime soon though as he finds them in his own words "Distasteful".
He isn't the best at a normal domestic life as he's pretty much never had one up until now. The concept of a "day off" is absurd to him, there must be no time off in the seek for greater power... but that can wait for a few hours while he stuck to the bed by his S/O's demanding cuddles (get this man to sleep, he needs it).
He would never say it out loud but he secretly loves to spend time with his S/O alone in those peaceful moments, gives him a small life outside his normal life (if you could call it normal). Heck even over time he might open up to his partner more and more with his physical touch and life. (only alone that is, if anyone else comes in *Cough* Dante *Cough*, Vergil immediately is back to his normal standoffish self)
Nero:
Nero is the only Sparda family member with the most normal balance of hunting and home life than the other two, so overall Nero spends the most amount of time in his off time with his S/O. but it still isn't that much.
Wouldn't confess it it publicly but he loves the closeness of domestic life, too others it may seem mundane but to Nero? it's the closest he'll ever get to a normal life and he'd be damn sure nobody will interrupt it.
Loves doing stuff for his S/O, like cooking (also i see Nero being the only one not to burn down a building by just turning a oven on), chores etc. his outward appearance may him him grumble but this man will want any chance to be around his S/O more.
Nero loves to cuddle or do anything that involves the chance too, sleeping? yes, watching a new series together? also a yes. but ever try to bring it up in front of anyone else and he'll deny any of that happened (Everyone knows he's lying).
Doesn't have a "stash" like the other two but loves video games, he has a small collection of games he personally enjoys but unlike the others Nero is willing to let his S/O play a game or two while he watches them. He thinks it's cute to watch them rage at a boss fight, just don't get him to do it because if he finds it hard then he might have to buy a new remote.
#devil may cry#dmc#dmc5#dmc nero#nero#vergil#dmc vergil#dante#dmc dante#fanfiction requests#fanfiction#headcanon#domestic life#fluff#open requests#nero x reader#dante x reader#vergil x reader
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I have had writers block for days. It has been a constant struggle to write anything besides pure smut. So I'm going to write a drabble series and get the smut out of my brain. And then return to my WIP. Propmts and requests are open.
Photos because these images live rent free in my head.
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The Devil in my Eyes (part 3)
Dante (DMC5) x reader
warnings: young! reader (late 20s), slow burn (there's nsfw in this one though), virgin! reader, human! reader, gender neutral! reader (no pronouns are used), size difference, smut (minors DNI), fingering, unprotected sex, cumming on body
summary: Dante comforts you after your emotional outburst in a way you didn't expect to enjoy so much
word count: 2.5k
chapter 1 | chapter 2
>> AO3 version
a.n: I'm very very embarrassed to share this, I never wrote sex scenes before and I'm also sick, so if you see the tenses changing from past to present please forgive me I have a fever and couldn't sleep so I finished writing this.
(requests open)
You didn’t know what exactly came over you but both your lips were touching. Something stupid Dante said, a silly laugh shared between the two of you, and then... a kiss. You and Dante kissed for a good while, it wasn’t rough or strange, it was... sweet and gentle and it made you feel different. Once you pulled away from one another, you simply stared at him with what could be interpreted as a surprised expression. Dante looked back with a smile.
“I-“ You began, but your tongue seemed to be stuck in the back of your throat. You didn’t know who kissed first, if it was you, or him, or maybe both at the same time. You didn’t know what to say, if you should apologize, or play along, or just stay quiet... regardless, you ended up staying quiet like an idiot.
“I think we both know what we want right now” Dante spoke before you had the chance to. “Don’t think too hard about it, okay?”
"Dante-" You tried to object, but it was fruitless. He was kissing you again and you couldn't resist his lips against yours. You were so nervous. What was going to happen? Were you two seriously doing this?
Dante kissed you a bit more passionately this time, his hands finding their way around your waist and slowly but surely pressing you down against the couch you two were in. You could feel the weight of his body against yours and you struggled to figure out what to do with your hands. You eventually settled into holding the back of his head, as he maintained your kiss for a while longer.
Once he pulled away again, your cheeks were flushed red and you stared at him with an indescribable expression. A mixture of desire, fear, insecurity, anxiety, you couldn't tell. Once more, he seemed to take note of it, and smiled.
"If you want to stop, you can tell me" He spoke.
"I-" Words failed you. Did you? Part of you wanted this to happen, while another was afraid of what'd happen afterwards. Would things be different? "....I want this." You finally said, albeit soft and weakly.
That was enough for him. He leaned back and took off his shirt, tossing it aside and exposing his figure. Your mind couldn't help but go back to the vision you had of him the night before, when he was laying on his bed in full display. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought.
"I'll take off yours now, okay?" Dante asked, and you nodded slowly, before feeling his large hands reach down and remove your shirt, tossing it aside as well. You could feel his gaze on you and on your body and there was nothing but pure amusement in his face as he took in your figure. You couldn't help but feel shy.
Next thing you know, he's leaned down on top of you, feeling your skin and using his hands to grope you gently, going to your sides and rubbing them softly, making you gasp. You squirmed a little under his touch, not because you wanted him to stop, but because the sensations were almost overwhelming to you.
Dante let soft kisses against your skin, your chest, your stomach, until he reached the rim of your pants, making you shudder in reflex. Once he got there however, he leaned away and sat up, holding you by the hips now and spreading your legs a little, fitting you underneath him.
"Do you want to move somewhere more comfortable?" Dante asked in a quiet tone, you could feel the hair on your body stand up by the way he sounded.
"Please...?" You asked softly, and again, it was as if everything you said was an order Dante was more than happy to fulfill.
He picked you up and carried you upstairs to his room, opening the door with his foot and entering.
His room wasn't anything impressive, it looked just like yours except with a TV and some trash around tucked away in the corners. He placed you on the bed gently and didn't waste time getting on top of you and kissing your neck. A small sound escaped your throat as he kept going, his scruffy beard rubbing against your skin as his lips marked your skin.
You weren't this kind of person. You never did this with anyone, and even your ex of 2 years got fed up with your attitude. So why him? Why were you willing to do this with a man you've only met a few days ago?
Despite the attention you were receiving on your body, your mind wandered and made you feel guilty. Did this make you a slut? Nobody would know about it...but deep down you kind of felt like one.
Dante pulled away, using one of his hands to turn your face towards him.
"What's wrong?" He asked, making you look back.
"N-Nothing's wrong." You respond shakily.
"You're tensing up... " Dante spoke, one of his hands caressing the side of your leg up and down. "Nervous?"
"....Yeah..."
"I'll take it easy, okay?" Dante reassured, kissing your forehead, but before he leaned back, you wrapped your arms around his neck a little.
"....Do you think I'm a slut?" Your voice came out like a whisper, but made Dante stay in place.
"...Why would I think that?" He looked back at you with his icy blue gaze, hands now resting beside you on the pillow.
"...Because we've known each other for only a couple of days and... we're already doing this" You sheepishly responded, looking to the side before meeting his gaze again.
"...Ah... I see." Dante pulled away, sitting up so he could look at you better. "Do you feel bad for your first time being like this? Is that it?"
"N-No! I mean... well, I never pictured it'd go like this before, but... I don't know"
"...It's fine, do you wanna stop?"
It was almost humiliating how open minded and relaxed Dante seemed about everything that ever happened. You practically living there, your tantrum, the fact you suck at absolutely everything, your lack of experience, and even this... Did he not get bothered?
You looked back at him and bit your lip. You were always like this... so insecure, so unsure of things, unable to take the initiative and simply letting things happen, letting people get to you and not the other way around. You were sick of it.
You weren't a child anymore, you were a free person, no strings attached, and Dante was right here to make you forget about everything at least for one night.
"No." Escaped your lips. "I want you, Dante."
Dante smiled, showing his teeth, and you could see his sharp canines poking out from his lips. He leaned down again and with a swift movement removed your pants, tossing them aside along with your shoes and your socks, leaving you just in your underwear.
There was a visible size difference between you two. He was massive, not only in size but in muscle as well. You felt small underneath him, but it felt thrilling as well.
He kept on loving your body, groping and rubbing some sensitive spots throughout you with his hands, while using his lips to plant kisses across your skin. Every time his lips and warm breath reached the rim of your underwear you felt a shiver going down your spine, making your back arch softly.
You could feel your body warming up at the sensation he was spreading throughout your skin, and soon, his lips met yours again. You felt his weight against you and how firmly his hands held you by the hips, and you wrapped your arms around him again to pull him closer.
Your kisses were more passionate now, despite you being a little sloppy he didn't seem to mind. He opened his mouth and waited for your permission to go further, which you allowed to happen, your tongues swirling together as small sounds escaped you.
You were getting really hot and bothered with all of this attention, and you could feel Dante was getting rather excited as well. He bucked his hips and grinded against you, and you could feel his cock rub against you through the fabric of his pants. The feeling was exhilarating, and you couldn't help but shudder at the thought.
After some sloppy tongue kisses, he pulled away to breathe, and your gaze wandered automatically to the bulge that had formed in his pants. You felt absolutely dirty doing this, and the sight only made it worse. But you couldn't tell if you were regretting agreeing to this, or if you were excited to do something you've never done before.
He unzipped his pants and removed them with some difficulty. He seemed almost impatient to get them off of him. You giggled a little as you watched him struggle, and you could swear you could see him blushing a little, a smile coming to his face.
"Don't laugh, hold on" Dante smiled, finally able to remove his pants and also his underwear, exposing his form fully to you now.
Your cheeks were also dusted red upon the sight. You wondered thousands of things, but you were too shy to share your concerns out loud.
"Alright, now for the fun part~" He smirked, leaning down and removing your underwear at a slow and teasing pace, sliding it down your legs before tossing it aside as well. He could see you were already pretty excited.
He took out some lube from the nightstand beside you and put a little bit on his fingers, rubbing them against your entrance before pushing one finger in.
The sensation made you arch your back almost instantly, and your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt his finger move and your eyes could barely stay open. You don't even notice when he sticks another finger in and begins to move.
He notices your expression and can't help but stroke himself as well with his free hand, continuing to work his fingers in you for a few moments longer before removing them.
You try to recompose yourself but before you could even breathe, the tip of his cock was already rubbing against you. You closed your eyes tight, expecting something that never came. You opened one of your eyes and look up at him.
"Dante...?"
"You look so scared... can I really do this?" Dante smiled, holding you by the legs and lifting them up until they reached your shoulders.
"Ah...Y-Yes....sorry"
"Don't apologise. If you wanna tap out at any time, just tell me to stop"
You nod... just by the position you're now in you feel like quitting. This was so embarrassing, he could probably see all of you from where he was sitting. God. You cover your face with both hands but feel Dante kiss against them.
"I want to see your face" he whispered in a raspy tone against your hands, making you shudder and slowly uncover it. He's right in front of you and you can feel him rub against you.
"D-Dante-" You whimper, and see him smile, before thrusting himself inside.
Your vision whitened almost instantly, once more your breath feels stuck in your throat and your whole body tenses up. There's a burning and stinging sensation spreading throughout your body originating from your lower region.
He didn't move, watching the range of expressions and whimpers you were showcasing to him as you adapted to the current situation.
You could feel Dante slowly pull out, inserting himself inside you once more, this time a bit gentler, making the pain be slightly subdued by the friction. You could also hear him whisper against your ear 'relax, it's okay' over and over and kissing away any tears that developed in your eyes.
"Let me know when I can move" Dante whispered, gently rubbing your thighs as he still held you up.
"O-Okay...." You whimper, small tears still filling your eyes.
You try to control your breathing and relax... it takes a while but you eventually give Dante a nod for him to move.
The feeling that comes afterwards is ultimately euphoric. He leans himself closer to you, your legs resting against his shoulders. He holds your hands and intertwines your fingers together, pressing them both against the pillows, and with this action you feel him slipping further inside your body.
You moan, as if completely forgetting this had been painful a second ago. He holds you down the bed firmly, as if you could slip away at any second, and thrusts inside you. His hips move and with every thrust a new sound escapes your lips, which seems to only excite him more.
The only sounds in the room are both of your moans and the sound of him thrusting himself into you, but you're so overwhelmed by the pleasure you don't hear anything really. Your eyes are barely open and you notice his expression... He seemed to be trying to keep himself together. You wonder why, but you also didn't care that much. He's biting his lower lip and you can see red tinting his lip where he's biting it. There are deep groans that escape his throat that make him sound like an animal, trying to keep himself tamed.
You didn't know how to properly process this but there was something building up inside your lower stomach that made the situation even more euphoric.
Dante could feel your body tensing up occasionally based on his thrusts, your insides squeezing him and it was getting harder and harder to keep things at an easy pace for you. You noticed this as he began to quicken up the pace and tried to reach deeper inside you. You tried telling him to slow down but you were overtaken by the feeling of him inside you.
His groans got more animalistic with time, and he could feel himself growing closer to his end. You could feel it too, and you couldn't even make any more sounds at this point as he reached a spot that felt way too nice. His thrusts get slower and deeper as he is reaching his climax, and you're a whimpering mess underneath him as you reach yours.
With some final thrusts, you feel him pull out and a whimper escaping you as he does, not used to the sensation. You opened your eyes afterwards to see him stroking himself, and soon enough climaxing over your lower stomach.
You were breathing deeply as he lowered you from him and laid next to you, catching his breath as well. You have no words, you can only try to gather your thoughts as you feel lightheaded and a bit nauseous.
"Dante..." You managed to whisper, looking back at him with a weak and tired gaze.
"Just relax...I'll clean you up in a bit" He reassured you, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead.
For someone who said previously he only did casual hookups he was being awfully caring... You wondered if there was something more to him that he wasn't telling you...
Before you could ask anything however, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, and you succumbed to sleep.
#dmc dante#oc x canon#dmc5#dmc dante x reader#dante fanfiction#dante x you#dante devil may cry#dante sparda#dante x reader#devil may cry fanfiction#devil may cry#fanfiction#canon x reader#dmc fanfiction#dmc dante (dmc5) x reader
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