#vergil angst
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A BEGINNING, AND AN END
PAIRING: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader
WARNINGS: Not proof-read, angst, mentions of readers death, depression, loss, loneliness, a relationship that is crumbling.
WC: 1,650
DESCRIPTION: Vergil wonders what exactly he did that made him lose you. He breaks as he realizes his mistakes, and that he will never be able to hold you again.
A/N: This work was rushed!!!!!!!!!! I literally just had a vomit post of all my sad little ideas. Currently hyper-fixated on Vergil! Probably will write more for him. I imagined this concept last night, and I kid you not, I cried.
Marriage was a concept created for foolish beings who wished to bind themselves to one another. When Vergil lived through his life, blinded by a pursuit of power, such things like marriage were nothing but a stupid scheme.
Why would he wish to be controlled by someone? Tied down to them? Love was nothing. Love was idiocy. That is what he thought, after all.
Then you came.
A human, young and kind. You placed your hand in his, pressed your silken lips along his bruised knuckles, and kissed his ruined skin. You promised him love. You showed him peace. You introduced him to light and laughter and mirth.
It was then, after the many days of holding you and growing to love you, that he realized why people did such “foolish” traditions. He grew weak with you. Became sensitive. Was not embarrassed to be genuine with you. He had finally decided.
He would propose.
You had tears swelling up along your waterline, slipping down your upturned cheeks as you smiled, you sobbed the words “Of course I will marry you”.
He married you.
The marriage was simple, no one but you two to promise yourselves to each other. He had found an old church to hold the ceremony, the ceilings tall and pointing to the sky. The tinted glass waned bright colors over your bashful face, your eyes glittering with devotion before you leaned in to kiss him. A kiss to ensure eternity.
Your fingers trembled against his as he slipped the wedding band on, he had not realized his cool façade has cracked along with yours. He was crying with you, so ecstatic to finally have someone who can understand him.
Someone who won’t judge him, someone who will tell him it will be okay. To hold him close in the night when he had nightmares. To lay their head in his lap as he read out his favorite poems.
“Vergil, stand over by the tree! I want to take a picture of you!” you giggled happily, face contorting into an expression that can only be described as glee. You held up your camera, adjusting the device to be suited for the brightened, summer day.
“And what for?” your husband seemed annoyed, looking at you with a nonchalant grimace. “Because I want to capture memories, now go, go!”. You shooed him away, begging him to find purchase near the weeping willow tree. It’s arms swaying in the gentle breeze, faded green leaves swooping overhead, tangled moss falling to the soil.
He obeys, acting as if this was something pointless, but internally, he was blissful, full of pride at the acknowledgement of your adoration. He stands, watching as you snap the picture, and then returns to your side gracefully.
“Well? Was that to your liking?” he asks, leaning down to see the picture, and you nod with a grin, telling him “thank you”.
This was something that became quite frequent. You had recently started to indulge in art, and had brought up to him that you would paint his portraits.
And paint you did.
Your works were wonderful. Your art room his secret sanctuary. A gallery of only him, painted with oils and acrylics, colors that portray him to be a god amongst this tiny Earth.
Inspired by a simple, small photo of him. A photo that is always captured by you.
You enjoyed comparing his white hair to the color of a rich magnolia. Consistently painting him alongside the elegant flowers. You had told him once that they reminded you of him. They were sensitive to the human touch, turning brown from the oils of a selfish finger caressing it. They were independent, and were beautiful while they kept to themselves.
Just like him.
Relationships are hard. He understands this. He knows that if he does not give enough, the ones he finds dear will crumble away. Loyalty, honesty, generosity, quality time, devotion….. so much he must do to keep you satisfied.
He tries, he’s a perfectionist, but when you two wander in public, see the other couples mold into one another, he feels ashamed. He does not like to hold your hand in public, and he feels tense when you initiate certain intimacy. You would get bored of him, wouldn’t you?
He admires how easy you make it look, how you strip him of his clothes, settle him in the tub, speak reassuring words of praise as you scrub the grime off his beaten skin. He relaxes under your touch, wonders why of all people, you chose to be with him. How you don’t hesitate to bend to his will, run miles to retrieve whatever he wants. Speak honeyed words, just enough to make him melt.
You’ve helped rid his nightmares, you’ve made him feel alive. He only dreams of bliss, of divine moments shared with you.
Moments like you and him, taking pictures under the willow tree.
But yet, he cannot even find the courage to move forward. To give you the smallest things you desire.
He grows sour. For once, he feels powerless. Inferior.
He can never give you what you want.
Recently he has grown colder to your touch. Shallow and incoherent with any simple notion.
You will try to reach for him, your pinkie grazing the side of his firm hand. He only tugs away, resisting your affection. You will plead to bathe him, massage the ache in his shoulder blades. He only denies your wishes to care for him.
Your paintings become more erratic than before, a sense of gloom in their glistening wake. A sheen of desolation hidden amongst the thick lines of paint. You have lost inspiration. His divinity and blue aura that was once captured by the bristles of your paintbrush are now fading into a melancholic art piece.
You are afraid you have lost him.
You two seem to get in an argument one night. It is after an awkward vent of your feelings to him in the library.
“I miss when you loved me”, is what you confess.
Vergil shouts selfish comments, says he prefers to be alone. Says you bother him too much. Says that maybe marriage was the wrong decision. He does not mean these things. But you have taken them to heart.
You start to cry, the whites of your eyes now bloodshot. Hiccups erupting from your lips. Sobs that beg him to take all his words back.
He doesn’t.
“Fine” you sniff, “I will let you be “.
A sickening feeling blooms in him when you leave, your bag tossed over your shoulder.
When you pass it is like no other.
He felt it burn through him. Regret. Guilt. Loneliness. He knew something had went wrong.
Your body had been found on the streets, bloodied, bones shattered, arms disfigured. You had tried to put up a fight, that was for sure. It made him sick. He felt numb. Practically in denial of your death. Of your murder.
He could have saved you…..he promised you. You have given him everything he wanted, and yet this…he couldn’t even prevent this from happening.
Your face, swollen and bruised. Eyes blackened and cheeks cut open. Your soft lips, never to kiss his again.
If only he hadn’t been selfish, you wouldn’t have went out that night. You could have been here, with him, embracing him. Telling him that you loved him for all eternity.
The wedding band was still firm on your finger, your blood thick over Vergil’s name engraved on the ring.
Vergil kisses you one last time before your body is sealed in it’s coffin, a wooden box that shall keep your remains concealed forever. Your lips are so cold now, lifeless and chapped. Lacking it’s warmth and tenderness that you usually carried.
A part of him regrets kissing you. Your frozen face and your icy touch will now haunt him for the rest of his life. Terrorize his dreams.
Just a couple of months ago you two had stood in the old Victorian chapel, the stained glass casting an array of colors over your gentle smile. The beginning.
The last image of you is an image of death. They are lowering you into the Earth, shovels tossing dirt over the wooden case. An end.
Dante has offered that Vergil should stay with him, get away from the home that he once shared with you. His brother figured it would be best, a solution to rid him of his sorrow. The elder refuses every time.
Your presence…your glow. It still is fresh, and alive in the walls of the home. He must stay. He must stay for you. Sometimes he swears he hears your voice in the halls, your sweet tone making him panic and get up, just to realize he is only imagining it. He is only imagining that you are not gone. That you are still here with him.
He still visits your grave, as often as he possibly can. In the meantime, he tends to the tree he has planted in your garden, a magnolia tree that is fresh and desperately trying to grow. He wished he could show you.
There had been one night where he had a nightmare, images of you screaming and crying his name, pleading for help as you died, crimson leaking from your lips as you sputter blood.
“Vergil! Help me!”.
He wakes in a cold sweat, so terrified that it genuinely shakes him. This vision had stayed clinging in his dreams ever since your death, never sparing him mercy.
On nights like this, he rushes to enter your art room, sitting amongst your wooden work chair, now too restless and shaken to attempt to sleep again. He knew if he tried, he would only be met with the image of your lifeless form again.
He sits there, your painting of him underneath the willow tree sitting proudly amongst your art desk. You had told him it was your most prized possession. Your best work. He thought so too.
He cries your name under the glum luminescence of the moon.
He decides this time, he will paint you. No matter how bad he does it, your beauty will always bleed through.
#vergil x you#vergil sparda x you#vergil x reader#dmc x reader#vergil sparda x reader#vergil angst#dmc5 x reader
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I cannot be normal about liking characters
Vergil I feel like is suspended in that permanent state of being at war with his need to connect with others (his family) and his need to isolate himself to prevent himself from being hurt again
And i feel that so deep in my soul that its not even fucking funny. Vergil is way more than just his trauma I know,(evidently, even the story presents that he had to overcome it to change and grow as a person) but those feelings are a part of him and a part of what made him human
And he despised that part of himself so much because he feared ever being hurt again and did inexcusable things (same as fuck)
Every day I think about him my heart fucking bleeds, and I find all those memes dissing him and calling him dense for it (bc he was) both extremely funny and true but also so tragically close to home that it feels like self deprication to laugh at.
I think I need to go to therapy instead of crying over fictional men
I hate to be more emo than V(ergil) is and ik this is corny but goddamnit I can see the pain in his fucking eyes
I do not idolize him. He is a reflection of me and it made me confront a part of myself that I wish I never had to achknowledge.
#vergil sparda#vergil#rant#vergil angst#i love him sm#And another thing is that everyone on tumblr agrees that he is an absolute fucking loser (ngl his actions warranted these consequences)#its funny but it also makes me feel like this is exactly why people dislike me#i love him bc hes as pathetic as me#stop reading the tags oi#yknow what fine keep reading them#i think the takeaway here is that hes emo af and so am I#i can fix him 😭#jk. i cant#he will in fact make me worse#but let me live my delusions of being held in his arms
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Everyone I Love is Dead(Vergil x Fem!Reader)
warnings: angst, very very very sad, mentions of suicide, very deep content matter, mentions of depression.
word count: 1.8k
pairings: Vergil x Fem!Reader
summary: Vergil worries about you when you seem to become distant, despite the fact that it is spooky season.
a/n: This is a self-indulgent little fic in a way for me. This mirrors an experience in my life and I often find myself becoming so distant and cold when it comes to this time of year. Please, if you are sensitive to the subject matter, I implore that you do not read. And as always, I'm always here to chat if you need it. You are loved and people care about you so much.
Vergil was worried. He did spend a lot of time worrying about you, but this was different. As summer came to a close, you found this new rejoice for life. It was like with the changing of the seasons and the shift of the colors of the leaves had made something snap inside of you. All of a sudden you were all about pumpkin spice and apple cider, which made Vergil groan with irritation at first. But now, he wishes all of that would return.
The month of September had been rather normal, despite your incessant chatter and excitement for what you had dubbed “spooky season”. You seemed rather chipper and cheerful, which made Vergil so relieved. He had done so much to woo you in the beginning of your relationship, but now he knew that the two of you really had a connection. He even found himself becoming excited for “spooky season”.
But once October hit, it was like something switched off inside of you again. You became a little distant, quiet and sullen. You desperately tried your best to hide it from everyone else. Trish and Lady couldn’t see past your facade. They eagerly did all kinds of girly things with you to keep you satisfied, but you were tired of masking so much. It didn’t take long for Dante to figure it out, but Vergil found himself completely clueless on the matter.
You were even a little cold and distant with him. It hurt him to see you like this. Especially during the time of year that clearly means so much to you. And yet, Vergil could find no answers to your sadness. He racked his brain, trying to find a reason for you to be feeling this way. He didn’t want to ask Dante for advice, but as the days kept going, he wondered if maybe it might not be the worst idea.
The emptiness he began to feel as you slowly got deeper and deeper into this pit of darkness just grew and grew. It became almost so unbearable for the both of you. What used to be love turned into something so dark and sad. But Vergil wanted nothing more than to do what he could to fill you with warmth. The way you had once filled him with a star’s worth of warmth. He just didn’t have any idea how he’d even be able to do something like this.
First, he knew he might actually have to ask Dante for advice. You and Dante had always been so close to one another. Dante was your confidante, whether Vergil enjoyed that or not. He had been the one to introduce you to each other, knowing your sunniness would bring some happiness to Vergil’s life. And it had done so much, so Vergil felt he owed it to you to be able to cheer you up.
Once he finally talked to Dante, he realized that this problem was lying dormant inside of you all year long. You let it fester and fester until it finally burrows a hole so deep into your heart, you can no longer find happiness. Dante wasn’t sure of the details, but he had told Vergil that you might be mourning somebody. Dante has seen you mourn people before, and it does look quite a bit like this.
“Just talk to her,” Dante finally says. “You’ll feel better about it once the two of you can just discuss it.”
“What if she won’t speak to me? I can’t stand this coldness anymore.” Vergil agonizes. He hated being so open with his brother, but this one time helped so much.
“Tell you what,” Dante explains. “I’ll leave the office now. You go get her some of those pumpkin spice donuts she is so fond of, have some coffee and mull it over.” And with that, he gets up from the desk and heads out of the office.
Vergil realizes his brother is right. He just needs to talk to you about this. But it is difficult for him to be willing to discuss things like emotions or feelings. It makes him feel so weak whenever the thought of having to discuss these topics comes up. His stomach is already in knots as he grabs his scarf from the coat rack.
Only thoughts of you consume his mind as he walks down the street. The little bakery you love dragging him to is just a few minutes away. When he gets there, he realizes just how much he misses having you bring him here. Even the workers are surprised to see him alone without you. He sighs softly before ordering some of those donuts and two coffees.
One of the workers asks about you, and he has to lie to protect you from the possible judgment this stranger may place upon you. He says that you’ve fallen ill and that he was just picking these up for you to cheer you up. The employees all send their well wishes and Vergil walks home with this guilt that he lied to them.
Once he arrives home, it’s quiet. Too quiet for him, and he prefers it this way in the first place. He climbs the stairs to your shared room and he places his ear on the door. Nothing is coming from inside. You must be sleeping again. He knocks gently at first(as best as he can with all these treats), but still no response. Finally, he goes inside. He sees you on the bed, and you’re holding a photograph in your hands. Your eyes are glossy with tears and some of them have stained your cheeks. You look so pitiful, it’s breaking his heart.
“Darling,” Vergil says softly. You look over at him, and you have no more energy to be ashamed. “I brought you some refreshments.”
“Don’t want ‘em.” You let out. Vergil’s heart clenches in his chest. You sound so defeated.
He places the coffees on the bedside table and he hands you the little bag holding the donuts and the donut holes. You muster the softest sob when you realize what he’s brought you. It just breaks you even more.
“Please, sparrow. Please talk to me,” Vergil pleads. He doesn’t want to see you like this anymore. “I want to help.”
You finally sniffle and sit up. Your fingers poke into the bag until you reach for a donut. The crumbs spill onto your shirt and the sheets, and you chuckle softly.
“ I guess I owe you an apology,” you tell him as you bite into the treat. “And an explanation,”
Vergil is pleased to hear this. But still, it stings to see you in such a sad state. Especially when he thought for so long that you had been cold to him because you were falling out of love with him. But he can see now that it isn’t the case.
You hand him the photograph. It’s you and a guy that looks around your age. He has his arm slung around you, pulling you close and you both are smiling widely.
“It’s his birthday tomorrow.” you begin. “He would have been my age.”
“Who is this?” Vergil asks, his finger ghosting over the image of you and the guy.
“It’s–it was my friend. My friend who I loved so dearly,” a hiccup falls from your lips. “But he was sick, Vergil. He was so sick and he found himself unable to get help.”
Vergil swallows hard when he realizes what you mean. He doesn’t think he likes where this story is going, but he will not interrupt you. Not when you are finally spilling your guts to him. He hands you the coffee and takes a moment to wipe your face with a napkin.
“We were so close. It was like we were siblings. We would fight like cats and dogs, but at the end of the day, he might have been the only person to truly have my back.” He can see in your eyes that you have a million and one regrets. Vergil knows that feeling all too well.
“Then one day, he just left town. He was moving back home, and he left me here. We had always promised to make plans to see one another, but they never came to fruition. Then one day, I got a call from his sister.” You choke up at this, unsure if you can even keep telling the story.
Vergil sits patiently, listening to you and hanging onto your every word. It pains him so much to know you’ve been holding onto this for so long. You sit up a bit more now, and you take a long swig of the coffee. The thought of finishing this story is just too much to bear, but you know you should just finish it and get this all off of your chest.
“She calls me and she tells me…she tells me he’s dead. The police had come to her door and they had told her they found his body. I don’t even know how long he was dead for. I didn’t bother asking.”
Vergil lets a curse fall from his lips and you nod your head. It takes you a few more moments and a few more swigs of coffee before you even try to finish. You tell him how you weren’t even able to go to the funeral, but you had so desperately wanted to. Even now, you wonder if things had been different if you had gone with your friend.
“Oh sparrow,” Vergil whispers softly. He is afraid to do something wrong at this moment. “I’m so sorry you’ve been holding onto these feelings for so long.”
You sniffle softly and you crawl over to him. You wrap your arms around the man in front of you. The one you love so completely. The one who has done all of this just to get your attention and to try to make you feel better. Vergil, the man who has gone through so much in his life, is actually trying to make you feel better.
“I am so lucky to have you in my life, Vergil.” You press a kiss to his lips. Then you lean your forehead to his. “Without you, my life would be so meaningless. And I live my life every day just so I can be with you and love you completely.”
His face turns red at your sweet words. He doesn’t remember the last time he has heard something so kind and loving. Maybe these are the sweetest words he’s ever heard.
“My love,” Vergil begins. “I promise to always be here for you. I may not know what to say or the right thing to do, but please do not shut me out like this again.”
You smile softly and kiss him again, “I promise.” Then there’s a pause. “Anymore donuts?”
With a chuckle, he hands you the bag again to your delight. All is well for now.
#bacon.writes#tw depression#vergil#vergil dmc#vergil devil may cry#vergil x you#vergil x reader#vergil x y/n#vergil fluff#vergil angst#devil may cry#dmc#please read at your own risk
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Hot (Vergil x Reader)
Part 1 here.
Warning: Yandere behavior incoming.
When you met Vergil, the first thing that popped into your mind was: "Man, he's scary looking." The second thing that flashed across your beautiful brain was: "Man, he's hot."
Of course, you'd never say that aloud.
After talking to you a few times, Vergil came to the conclusion that you were as soft-spoken and reserved as he was--and he liked that. He liked having someone to sit next to and relax with in silence; comfortable silence, rather than the awkward, nervous silence that typically took place whenever he tried to sit with anyone.
The two of you quickly bonded thanks to this, and before any of you knew it, feelings (though they were hidden) blossomed within you. To put it simply, Vergil soon developed a crush on you, and you a crush on him.
Since neither of you were aware of the shared feelings between you, you hid your emotions and tried to give each other clues by doing things. After all, actions speak louder than words.
One day, Vergil walked into Devil May Cry wearing something that was not his favorite blue jacket. He was wearing a black, fitted, turtleneck tank top that emphasized his abs and prominent biceps. After noticing your blank staring, he explained that Dante had burned his clothes during a mission they previously went on, so he was forced to dig up some of his old clothes to wear until he could buy new ones.
"Ah...great."
"Is there something troubling you, Y/N?"
"No...no, it's just...well...you look nice. That top suits you."
You said this with a massive blush on your face, which quickly spread to Vergil. "Really?" He replied, clearing his throat rather loudly. "I see..."
From that point on, he began wearing tank tops more often, hoping to get another compliment from you. Unfortunately, his hopes were crushed the day you came home, eyes bright and shining, jabbering away happily about some man you met while you were out--a man who was "just as fine as you are, Verg!" Vergil's blood was boiling deep inside his veins. His anger was so abundant, he had to hide his face behind his book to keep you from seeing how red his face was. You talked and talked, your words serving to convince him that someone had usurped his throne--some human was receiving more praise than him! Absolutely unheard of!
Vergil listened to your words politely, as the last thing he wanted right now was to make you upset with him. He was quiet and very, very angry; rigid in his seat. You soon ran out of things to say, your sudden talkative outburst gone for now. As soon as you'd left the room, Vergil bolted to his feet and out the door, the Yamato in his hands.
He'd find this person you were so infatuated with, and after he did so, he'd remove his presence from this earth.
#Dmc#Dmc5#Dmc vergil#Vergil x reader#Light angst#Angst kinda#yandere behavior#Yandere#tw yander behavior#Yandere vergil#devil may cry 5#devil may cry#vergil devil may cry#requested#thanks for requesting#icycoldninja writes#Fanfic#Devil may cry fanfic
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-It was a sight to behold, Vergil, taking a nap while the dust light slowly shine away from his bed, his face is peaceful, his breathes steady, sleeping soundly- "You're home, brother, you are being protected here"
"They said the devil may cry when they lost their loved one, but now they may cry when they happy to reunite with their long lost brother for so long, a dream that's finally be true."
#dante#vergil#devil may cry 5#dmc 5#dmc#devil may cry#fugeoni#digital painting#oh gosh more soft angst to happiness moment yeeet#I miss these two idiot so much
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Dante the Terrible
#my art#devil may cry#dante sparta#vergil#vergil sparda#capcom#dmc#dmc fanart#artists on tumblr#hi guys you can have my warm up reference study#with a side of angst#tag this as ship and your house burns down#nelo angelo#dmc 1
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Yeah yeah we all know the "Dante seeing Vergil in his reflection" but what about "Vergil twisting his doppelganger to look like Dante so he has somebody to talk to"
#devil may cry#spardabros#vergil sparda#ending off this year with as many angst posts as I can#gotta get it out my system!
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Read visions of V
Sobbing as I'm typing this oh my god
#cupidscruel🍡#visions of v#dmc vergil#dmc3 vergil#vergil dmc#devil may cry#devil may cry 5#devil may cry vergil#devil may cry v#visions of v manga#dmc angst#vergil sparda#dmc sparda#sparda twins
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Francis is Forever and 4Morant.
Vergil/Reader
You're gone and Vergil can't move on.
Vergil is broken. He cannot deny that. This arson of a man is begging for a change, for something to mend these wounds, someone to seal these broken porcelain pieces together.
For a while, he lived like this and he was okay with that.
The pain of his heritage dug into his skin like talons and pulled him into a heap into the ground.
He got up, wavering and stumbling, but he got up.
He never knew a helping hand would come and reach him from the abyss he landed himself in after he and his brother fought and separated again.
You.
This strong, independent, wonderful person who saw something in him that he didn't understand.
Something worth a damn, as Dante would say.
You were kind. Something he wouldn't get used to. Never.
Not after everything.
But you waited with a smile, with both hands out.
As if saying,
"I'm here. And I won't let anything hurt you."
He was too late again wasn't he?
Watching you fall and not being fast enough to grab you from the abyss.
You were calling his name, when you fell.
"Vergil! Vergil!"
Your voice grew smaller and smaller as you fell.
He cannot fix this. He cannot fix himself.
He can't stop anything from ruining him, including his own decisions.
His own inability to stop tragedy in his life.
Vergil is still at the cliff edge, hand outstretched, fear stabbing him through the heart as you fell meter by meter.
A pain that sunk into his being.
Pain is fleeting, so no, this feeling could not be pain.
This was agony.
Watching his loved one call his name again, looking for him and begging that he would beckon.
Dante found his brother at a bar, something extremely unlike him. But brotherly energies always gravitate back to each other.
However, Dante didn't believe that he would ever see his brother like this.
A miserable drunk like he used to be.
Just drinking until the world could end in front of him and he'd just pour himself another.
He knew why.
God, did he know why Vergil was like this right now.
"You got to let them go, Vergil."
Vergil took another sip, his eyebags dark. Vergil was exhausted of his grief, and it swallowed him like he did with his drink.
"I did. That's why I'm here."
"They're not coming back, you have to go home."
Vergil stayed quiet.
He stayed quiet the entire way home.
Even when Dante took him to his room in Devil May Cry, he stayed a quiet, hollow man who simply sat on his bed.
For the first time in a long long time of getting Vergil to snap out of it, countless, infinite times, Dante did not know what to do.
#i'm feeling angst tonight#i feel very sad today#devil may cry#devil may cry imagines#devil may cry headcanons#vergil x reader#vergil sparda
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So, let's entertain the idea that Dante has a kid, yeah?
This child is Dante's pride and joy. Dante loves them dearly; amongst all the death and decay of his everyday life, their optimism and wonder shines through it all to guide Dante through the darkened path. Even if they're no longer in their youthful days and now prosper as a fully fledged devil-hunter, Dante would always see them as his little jackpot.
Now, imagine that they traveled alongside Dante to Urizen's fortress, alongside Trish and Lady. Dante's kid, having inherited the famous hunter’s craving for a good fight, was eager to battle this powerful demon. It makes it no surprise that while Dante slugged along through the roads playing catch up, his kid and the two women were already engaged in battle with the rising Devil King.
It continues as expected. Trish, Lady, and Dante's kid are bested, leaving Dante to battle against Urizen for hours with no end. V and Nero make an appearance, Nero battles Urizen, Dante has to step in to give Nero a chance to escape.
Dante, ultimately, loses; Rebellion is shattered under the heel of Urizen's might. Thrown back against the wall of mangled roots and pulsing organic flesh, the Demon King moves to snatch the Legendary Hunter. Long tendrils lash out from the throne of thorns, intent on drawing in Dante to absorb his power and further the will of Urizen — only for Dante's kid to throw themselves in the path of the king's grasp; the narrowed edges tear through their body like paper, crimson rushing out of their newly formed wounds to stain their clothes and the floor below. Trails of it peak from the corners of their mouth and their eyes now stricken with fear.
They collapsed, and the only thing Dante could see was red. Trish had enough strength to throw him Sparda in hopes that its power would be enough — with a steel grip and renewed vigor, the legendary hunter threw himself blindly at the Demon King, utilizing his Devil Trigger and harnessing the fury of his emotions to see the mission through.
Yet, it wasn't enough. Like a fly, Dante was swatted away. And thus, he found himself locked in a coma. He could not awaken, he couldn't even stir, even though he desperately wanted to. In this scenario, it wasn't Dante's childhood memory of being saved by his mother that repeated itself. It was the grueling nightmare of watching his child, his flesh and blood, get pierced by the blades of the Demon King. Dante's fear only amplified the nightmare further than he ever would've wanted.
That terrified look in their eyes, tears cascading down pale cheeks with hair stained with red and blackened soot. He could see the fear of death consume them from the inside out.
He wanted to reach out, to save them, to comfort them, but he could do nothing as their blood was drained from their dying body. All that remains is a veiny husk.
When V awakes him, Dante wouldn't be his normal self. While he retains his wit, his attitude is notably more violent and less restrained. He’s desperately clinging to whatever hope remains brooding in his heart that his child is alive — they're alive, they have to be.
Only, when the hunter acquires his Sin Trigger and rushes to save Nero at the Qliphoth, he takes notice of a husk in the corner of his eye. One that outlines a similar silhouette; they were kneeled over a sword, the metal now engraved into the floor by the blood roots of the tree. In the outline of the hand that remains is a necklace, one that Dante remembers his kid making for the both of them to share.
Dante is no longer the same after the realization hits him.
The wacky persona that he is so commonly known for is now replaced by a wrathful anger. His temper is easily ignited, patient now becoming a foreign concept. Dante is more aggressive and adamant that Nero remain behind (stemming from the growing fear that Nero might suffer the same fate), but V? He is trying his hardest not to explode on the poet.
Dante knows who he is, Sparda it’s obvious. The same book that Dante stole numerous times during his boyhood days, nightmare versions of past devils that cling to V’s skin like a foul curse. As much as he tries to reason with himself that V is his own separate individual and that he had no part in the death of his child, Dante couldn’t fight back his anger. If V and Urizen were a part of the same being, then in Dante's mind, they share the same sins as one another.
Once Vergil returns, Dante’s anger is increased tenfold. All he could process is the rage and anguish that floods his heart, and Vergil is aware of this. He knows what he has done, and I can honestly imagine that Vergil believes he deserves the cruelest of punishment for what he has done to his little brother; Vergil has done many things in his pursuit of power, but now with a clarity of mind, does he realize that he has gone too far. To take away the one thing that kept Dante grounded and brought peace to his otherwise shattered life?
At the end of it all, I don't think Dante would want to stay in Hell with Vergil, not after what happened, and Vergil would be okay with this.
Dante has had no proper chance to mourn, and him being trapped in Hell with the same person (not the same person, but still a piece of them) that killed his child wouldn't help him process his child's passing any better.
Back at the Devil May Cry, he'd block everyone out. Nero, Trish, Lady, Morrison, none of them could get close to Dante. Dante goes out on his own to pursue an endless onslaught of devils to occupy his mind, but from the months that travel by, he is plagued by the same nightmare that haunted him during his time in a coma. Every time he closes his eyes, he could see them dying, and he was powerless to stop it.
Dante would never be the same.
#devil may cry#devil may cry 5#dmc#dmc 5#dante sparda#dmc dante#dmc 5 dante#devil may cry dante#devil may cry 5 dante#dante dmc#dante dmc 5#dmc vergil#dmc nero#dmc trish#dmc lady#angst#dunno if these are proper tags#whatever ig#just an idea#use it if you want
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"You can't remember what he looks like?... Just make something up.."
Dmc week day 5: Sad headcannon
This submission is also part of my angst/no comfort post seeing as I didn't make one lol
I guess it's more Canon then headcanon but I saw a post floating around (I may have reblogged it) about vergil saying that he would style his hair the same way dante did before he found out dante was alive and it made me cry, so I kind of amplified it to "vergil sees dante in the mirror, not himself but its been so long he can't remember the details.". I know they are identical so dante would look like him but I guess it's more in the way they present themselves rather than how they look literally.
Anyways please enjoy!! I scribbled this down quickly but I did put a bit of emotion into it, I really love the angst between these two 😭😭
#devil may cry#dmc#dmcweek2024#vergil#dante#devil may angst#oohgh ouch#angst#no im so passionate about these guys#vergil went through so much#AND SO DID DANTE LIKE WHAT#they both are just so... oughhhh#I SWEAR I'LL TALK ABOUT IT ONE DAY#I'LL WRITE AN ESSAY#ok thats it enjoy lol
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I think that after Vergil learns to bake stuff he'd have a really hard time not eating some of the ingredients and even the dough. Cue Lady coming in and eating the stuff he is so desperately struggling not to and his resolve crumbles to dust, he can no longer stop himself.
#One day he's tasked with making cookies for a family gathering last minute#Dante had a job so he couldn't help#Vergil has just gotten the dough ready and is struggling not to eat it#then Lady walks in and grabs some and eats it#He then can't stop himself and together they eat all of the dough leaving none for the cookies#From that day forward Dante does not let Vergil bake for the family gatherings alone#if he has a job he sends Vergil to do it he may not bake as well but at least he won't eat it#and he'll kick Lady out of the kitchen if she comes in#Devil May Cry#DMC#Vergil DMC#Lady DMC#Vergil x Lady#Verlady#They've been silly together 24/7 as of late#nice break from all the angst from characters and other dynamics
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A hanahaki Vergil/Reader fic would go crazy. On behalf of Vergil being afraid that his love would not be reciprocated and that he is ill deserving to receive the affections of the wonderful reader. Someone who’s caused so much grief for others, someone who contradicts their humanity and is so unused to the idea would not be able to bring you joy and mirth. And so the seeds are planted in the pits of his lungs, burrowing and mingling with his bronchial tubes. At first he doesn’t understand it, because something so trivial as this should not even be bothering him. He wants to be distant with you. He wants to run away, but he’s never been one to be avoidant with his problems. He wants to control them, and by pulling away from that which pains him, he thinks he’s doing such.
He couldn’t be more wrong. The petals take form and put pressure on the breath he draws. Dante’s the first to notice. He even calls him out on it, but what does he know? Was he supposed to confront you and dump his affections upon you? That’s no way to handle it, and what if you tell him no? What if you don’t accept these burning feelings of his? All this work for power, and here you are, stealing his strength with that damned smile of yours. It’s agony.
#phonk says#dmc imagines#vergil sparda x reader#Vergil x reader#hanahaki#angst#[ I had a vision come to me in the dark of night ]#[ might get to this later ]
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Without You: Vergil x G/N Reader
Summary:
You have been missing for some time now and Vergil is slowly losing it. The blue devil's constant fear and worry about you being dead has turned him into a shadow of hi former self; someone that is even capable of grinding on Dante's gears.
Another pretty story-heavy oneshot; six dividers (double equal signs) down for important parts if you want to skip the pre-text.
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Once again, I reference the “Revenant Shotgun” as being your gun; I really think the gun is pretty lmao. You also use Beowulf. Minor blood/gut talk, nothing too serious though (figured I should mention it just in case). This is the first time I have tried to write combat since I was like 13, so forgive the (probably) less-than-adequate scene writing--I tried lol.
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Pre-established relationship with Vergil. G/N reader.
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Semi-angst followed by fluff (I don't know why I keep writing sad Vergil things; I swear I'll stop after this lmfao)
==
The air was stagnated and stale as Nero slowly sat up, groaning in pain. His head was pounding as he looked around, confused and disorientated. He slowly blinked as he got a grasp on his surroundings. With a huff, Nero mindlessly groped around his lower back for Blue Rose and found it missing. This snapped him to attention as he began to sporadically eye over the area around him.
His brow furrowed as he focused on Red Queen which was thrust into the ground nearly twenty feet away. Slowly standing up with a wince, he went over to the sword. As he yanked the stubbornly stuck blade from the ground, a glint of light caught his attention. Blue Rose was laying on the ground nearby.
Placing Red Queen on his back, he clicked his tongue and went to retrieve his sidearm. “What in the fuck happened?” Nero’s thoughts were a blur as he scrunched his face struggling to put together the broken pieces of his recent memories.
==
“Move it, asshole!” Nero insincerely barked as he held a growl from deep within his throat.
You ducked down into a roll, knowing that Nero was going to lose control soon and it was best not to argue with his demonic side. Using Beowulf to quickly spin upward and to your feet, you managed to make quick work of a Choas demon's spines. Seizing the opportunity, you aimed Revenant dead-center of the creature’s eyes and pulled the trigger. Smoothly holstering your shotgun, you continued fighting the onslaught of demons alongside the now devil-triggered Nero.
It was like a beautiful deadly dance when the two of you got into your well-practiced tango of destruction. Nero would typically take a more topside approach, using his wings to pull things to him and then dropping them to you. His over-the-top chaotic slashing and slicing would then be cleaned up by you underneath him. You, who had the completely opposite style, opted for a calm and collected approach, especially if you were using Vergil’s gear. Times like these are something you cherish dearly and never want to end--even if you are being coated by blood and demonic entrails.
A sudden out-of-place movement caught the corner of your eye as you tried to move out of its path; however, you weren’t quite fast enough and got thrown across the room.
Nero’s attention was drawn to your flying body, “What the--!” before he could think he was hammer fisted directly into the ground below him. With a bright-blue flash, his devil trigger ended, leaving a confused and human Nero looking up at a strange figure above him.
The demon was not one Nero had seen before--it reminded him of the descriptions of the “Third Beast of Revelations”. However, its appearance wasn’t quite as he remembered being told--only having four of the seven heads that it is supposed to have.
The young man stood up, “What the hell are you supposed to be, huh?” he smirked. The creature lunged at him, which Nero avoided. He laughed a bit holding the Blue Rose aimed at the back of the beast, “Too slow. Wanna try again?”
Nero sidestepped the demon again but was hit by an unexpected swing of its tail. He dropped his revolver as he was tossed across the room. Nero went to get up again. Before he moved back in, however, his ears twitched at a strange sound. The hunter turned to his side and realized that the noise was your breathing. Gently grabbing your shoulder, Nero tried to shake you awake. Revenant and Beowulf had been tossed far from your body and you were out cold. Seeing as there was a large amount of blood dripping from your forehead, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon.
“Shit,” Nero mumbled under his breath as he pulled Red Queen from the resting place on his back, “You’re gonna owe me big time.”
With an impossibly blinding speed, the young hunter took off toward the large demon. Nero’s face was in a grimace as he focused the best he could without his trigger. In hindsight, he was regretting using his demonic energy on such a simple fight before.
His attempt at defeating this beast alone was futile; it was much too strong for him in this state. Another large hit from the beast sent him flying in the opposite direction as before; leaving your unconscious body as far from him as possible. The demon also noticed this as it turned its sights to your limp form.
“Tch, shit-” Nero hastily got up on his feet and ran to your aid; however, it was too late. The beast had your body in its grasp as it curiously looked you over. “Put them down you fuck!” his mind was racing; if something happens to you, Vergil will kill him.
With a grunt, Nero sprung up at the demon. Who only batted him away again. He used Red Queen to stop himself from flying so far off. Knowing there wasn’t time, he left the sword and was going to fight using just his hands. Was it stupid? Yes. Did he care? No, not if it meant trying everything he could to protect you--someone who had become essentially his step-parent.
However, the demon had no intent on letting you leave this place with the youngest Sparda descendant. It opened a fissure through the floor, but before leaving, attacked Nero one last time. It sent him flying in an almost straight line across the room and into a wall, knocking the hunter out cold.
==
Nero stood in front of where he had last seen you lay, your weapons were still strewn about and your coat had fallen from your shoulders as you were snatched upward. A cold heavy feeling sunk in as he just stood there staring.
Slowly he gathered your gear, he didn't know how he was going to tell the others what happened. Nero didn’t know whose response would be worse; Dante mocking him for his lack of skill or Vergil who would undoubtedly lose it over this.
He just wanted to go back to the DMC and get this over with. Nero left the demon nest, not caring that he hadn’t finished the job. Outside, Nico was in her van waiting for the pair’s return.
Seeing Nero, she opened the door of the van, “Took y’all long--” she paused, seeing the gear in Nero’s arms, ��Whoa, wait… Where’s--”
“I don’t know,” Nero mumbled, refusing to look Nico in the eye as he got into the vehicle.
“Whatdya’ mean ‘you don’t know’?” her voice was playful, thinking that Nero was just fucking with her as he placed the items on the table.
He leaned a bit onto the table with his palms flatly pressed against it, “I don’t know where they are..!” he grimaced as he stood back up with clenched fists, “Some fucking big asshole took ‘em”
Nico’s expression and pose changed from casual to a more serious one, “Wait-- they’re really missin’?” Nero’s frustrated stare said it all, “Holy crap-- Should we call your folks, I’m sure--”
“It wouldn’t help,” Nero relaxed his fists and took a deep breath trying to calm down, “They’ve been gone for a while, their scent’s gone.”
“Shit,” Nico pursed her lips as she paused for a moment, “Well, whaddya’ wanna do?”
Nero looked over to her, “I want to go to the shop. This is more important than the job.”
“Gotcha,” Nico wanted to poke at him but found herself unable to. Nero looked beyond exhausted and she knew that the brother’s responses will be more than punishing enough.
Neither of them spoke the whole way back.
==
Not wanting to be there when the three devils rip each other apart, Nico just dropped Nero in the garage and left.
Deciding to wait a moment before going in, Nero focused his hearing. He only heard one heartbeat meaning there was only one person at the shop when he returned. Thankfully, upon opening the door, it was Dante.
The red devil sat at his desk with his back to the garage, “Hey, you two are back early,” his gaze didn’t leave whatever he was doing on his desk, “Was thinking about ordering a pizza. You guys want anything?”
Nero’s face was pale and gave no response. He just simply walked over to the coffee table and plopped down your coat and weapons.
Dante pouted slightly with confusion, “If you don’t want--” his brow twitched as he noticed that there was only one person that had come in, “Hey where’s--” his happy expression dropped quickly. He moved around to the side of his desk to see what Nero had just set down.
“Dante-” Nero bit his tongue in thought, “Before you go off; hear me out?”
He scratched the stubble on his face, “Sure, go ahead kid.” he leaned back onto his desk.
Nero explained what happened and what attacked them. Surprisingly, Dante wasn’t mad or made any rude jabs about things. He just simply nodded along and paid close attention.
“Well Nero,” Dante shook his head and sighed, “As much as I want to give you shit-- You’re lucky to be alive. That bastard ain’t an easy thing to fight, ‘specially without a trigger handy…”
Nero’s gaze found its way back down to your gear, “You think they’re still alive, Dante?”
He sighed and stood back up, “If they weren’t, Vergil would know by now,” he bit his lip, “Question is: why did the demon want them alive?”
“Think Vergil would know?”
“Doubt it, he knows just as little as I do about those beasts…" he paused briefly before continuing, "Look, Nero,” Dante set a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “go home. I will tell Vergil about this whole thing. He’s already ripped off your arm, I really don’t want him to try ‘n gut you too. Okay?”
Nero was taken aback by what he said and nodded, “Thanks, Dante.”
“Any time kid,” Dante removed his hand, “Just don’t come back till I let you know it’s safe. Might take your old man a few days to calm down.”
“Sure thing,” Nero moved to the garage door, “Keep me posted, yeah?”
Dante gave a stiff nod to Nero as he watched him shut the door.
“Vergil’s just going to gut us instead… You’re a fuckin’ genius, Dante.” he sighed at his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do?
A few hours passed before the door finally swung open. Vergil stepped into the shop raising a brow at his brother who was at the desk asleep. With a sly smile and shake of his head, Vergil walked further into the room.
However, that smile quickly faded upon seeing Revenant, Beowulf, and your folded jacket sitting on the coffee table, “Dante.”
The younger twin slowly blinked as he opened his eyes and sat upwards, “Hm?”
“What is--” Vergil’s brow slowly furrowed further and further, “Why is their gear here?”
“Well..” Dante stood up and took a deep breath, “Look I ain’t gonna sugar coat it: They are missing.”
“ What? ” Vergil’s voice was sharp as he glared at Dante.
“Look, before you go and try to kill Nero--It wasn’t his fault,” Dante shrugged, “We would’ve had a tough time with what happened.”
Vergil made sure to enunciate each word clearly, “Dante, what happened.”
“They were attacked by one of those Revelation beasts. Your kid barely made it out. Nero said that they took your partner with them, so the demon wanted them alive for some reason.”
Vergil’s face went pale as his blood ran cold, “Where were they, I want to have a look at things.”
“Sure thing… I’m coming with though--you might need me,” Dante winked then stretched with a groan.
“Whatever.”
They did go look. Vergil found nothing. It was a dead end.
==
Several months had gone by and the usual bustling and jovial atmosphere of the Devil May Cry had faded. Now all that remained was a quiet angst and depressed mood that was brought on by one individual alone.
The silence was broken by the sound of the garage door opening. Standing in the doorway were the two twin sons of Sparda; Vergil stood in front of Dante. The eldest headed up to his room, not saying a word. His silent steps were filled with anger; an emotion that has become a common theme in recent times. Dante just stood, watching his brother go up the winding stairs.
Across the room, Nero sat on the couch. His gaze moved off of his phone and onto the remaining brother--who was already raiding the fridge, “Any luck, Dante?”
“No! There was absolutely fucking nothing.” Dante was seething as he looked over at Nero, “Your old man is just so… infuriating; I am this close to shoving the Yamato so far up his ass--.” with a pinch of the bridge of his nose, the youngest twin huffed out a heavy sigh.
Nero shook his head with a small laugh; knowing exactly how Dante felt. Vergil would barely talk to Nero without getting an irritated tone and becoming condescending, “Don’t worry, it’s only gonna keep getting worse; how long’s it been anyways--four months?”
Dante let out a nod of affirmation walking over to his desk. He kicked up his feet and cracked open the bottle drinking the majority of the bottle in one go, “You know, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if Vergil’s going to storm his way down into Hell just to make sure he’s looked everywhere.”
“He’s that desperate, huh?” Nero sat forward more on the couch, paying more attention to what was being said.
“That doesn’t even come close to describing how Verge’s being. I mean,” Another wave of building frustration was slowing creeping onto Dante’s face signified by his furrowed brow, “I don’t blame him for being worried--I would be if it were my lover--but still…” he exasperatedly removed his boots from the desk, making a slight thud as they hit the floor, “-he doesn’t have to be such a dick about things. I’m trying to help.” Dante was attempting to find his happy place--lest he wants to have another hole in the drywall.
“Vergil being a dick is nothing new--you’d know that better than me--he’s just not used to needing help,” Nero stood up from the couch revealing a manila envelope in his hand, “On a better note: Morrison dropped this off while you were out, said it’s for your eyes only.”
“Really?” Dante reached forward and snatched the envelope, “I wonder what that means, Morrison doesn’t often--” his voice slowly drifted as something inside the folder caught his attention. He continued to flip through the documents faster and faster with a wide-eyed stare.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Nero leaned over trying to take a peek at the papers, “What’s so interesting, huh?”
Without answering, Dante jumped up from his seat. The youngest son of Sparda ran up the stairs and began to bang rapidly on a certain blue demon’s door, “Vergil! Vergil, open up! Come on! Verge--”
A door pushed hard into Dante’s shoulder as a set of mildly bloodshot iced-over eyes met his, “What is it?” Dante stood frozen for a moment, not expecting Vergil to have answered the door so quickly; let alone seeing him after he had been (what appeared to be) crying, “What do you want, Dante.” Vergil’s sharp tone cut Dante from his thoughts.
“Shit, sorry. Just--here,” he shoved the folder at Vergil, “have a look at this.”
Vergil lifted a brow in curiosity as he let go of the doorknob and stopped shoving the door into his little brother. Sighing quietly, Vergil began to sift through the documents and pictures; the further he read, the further his brow creased. Vergil’s voice was rough and cracked as he looked at Dante, “Where--”
“Morrison dropped it off while we were out. Gave it to Nero… Is it that what I think it is?”
Vergil cleared his throat and took a short pause, “It could be--I would have to see it to be sure.”
“Alright, then saddle up princess, we got a job to do,” and with that, Dante left before Vergil chastised him for the jab.
A few moments later, Vergil came downstairs with his demon hunting gear re-equipped. Dante stretched his arms upward cracking his back quite loudly, “Ready, Verge?” Vergil gave Dante a curt nod and began to walk toward the garage door. Before leaving, Dante humorously cooed at Nero, “Make sure to finish your homework and be in bed by 7. We will be back in the morning--so behave till then. Love youuu~” flashing a wide sharp-toothed grin, he waved and headed for the door--ignoring the fact that Nero just whipped him off.
“Where is the location?” Vergil’s voice was deadpan as he unsheathed the Yamato.
“Here-” Dante handed Vergil the paper with the address, “So, what are we gonna do if it really is--”
“Silence." Vergil’s voice was sharp as his eyes turned to a harsh squint in irritation; tossing the folder off to the side.
Dante pursed his lips, pouting slightly at his brother’s attitude; but, didn’t feel like bantering so he remained silent.
Upon exiting the portal, the twins looked in front of them. The object of the job was before them, a large nest that was crawling with demons. Not wanting to waste time, they both ventured forward.
==
A few hours passed as the brothers slashed their way through the mound’s inhabitants. Dante and Vergil stopped for a moment to catch their breath.
Dante adjusted his coat, “So, how far down do you think it’ll be? We gonna have to go all the way?”
“Most likely,” Vergil slicked his hair back, “Is that a problem?”
“ ‘Course not, just was wonderin’,”
Vergil didn’t respond and just continued forward, Dante following in toe.
Dante cracked his knuckles, “So if it is-- then what?”
“I do not know--nor will I know until I see it.”
“Really hope that this lead is real and not another stupid hoax,” Dante frowned.
“If it is not worth our time,” Vergil’s voice was filled with more hostility with every word, “I will make sure to give the client a visit .”
“No-- Vergil you can’t kill our clients; we are demon hunters, not people hunters. Plus, this nest needed to be taken care of anyway.”
The eldest twin only scoffed in response.
==
It had been nearly eight hours since entering the nest and they still had no signs of what they were looking for. Both of them were getting crabby at this point; Vergil about the lack of evidence and Dante because of Vergil’s attitude.
“I swear--” Dante growled in frustration, “I am going to just fucking dig my way to the bottom of this fucking bastard.”
“That is impossible,” Vergil’s voice held no emotion.
“I know, I am just getting sick of this shit,” he groaned, “Just feels like we are getting nowhere--that’s all.”
Vergil stopped and tilted his head up slightly. Upon seeing this, Dante stopped as well.
“Verge, I didn’t-”
Vergil turned his head to the left and began to walk.
Dante rolled his eyes and pivoted in a grandiose manner, “Okay-ay, I guess we are goin’ this way now.”
They walked in silence for a few more minutes before coming to a dead end. Vergil began to scowl and stare at the wall.
“That’s a mighty fine wall there Verge, but what-”
“Break it.”
“... What?” Dante double-took at his brother’s words.
“I want you to break down this wall,” Vergil’s eyes moved sharply off the wall and to Dante.
“Look, Vergil, I made a joke about breaking shit down--wasn’t actually going to start--”
“Do as I say, Dante,” Vergil snarled, “Break. It. Down.”
Dante sighed, driving his sword into the ground, and responded by using a mocking baby voice, “Fine, mister grumpy pants.”
Using his Sin Trigger, Dante made quick work of the wall. The pair quickly stepped through as the hole repaired itself behind them. He shifted back into his human form and jogged after Vergil, who was already going forward. Another half hour passed of Vergil's speed walking forward intensely focused on something.
“Soooo… Plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing or are you gonna make me guess?”
Vergil hit Dante flat across the chest with a sheathed Yamato; before Dante could protest, he saw what his brother was staring at.
In front of them stood a fairly huge demon--the same one from the job's folder. The creature was similar to a centaur; however, a lizard (or demon) had been thrown into the mix as well.
A large spear was held by one of its three-fingered hands. On the body, there were three sets of violet claws; the legs of which were covered in a thick dark midnight blue fur with bits of sky blue streaks scattered throughout. Three maroon-scaled tails protruded from the back of the creature, a thin cerulean membrane trailing up the middle of each topside and trailing up the base of the creature’s skull.
Layered scales, colored the same as the tail’s, ran up the underbelly, body, and torso of the demon. Pale teal-green scaled skin was exposed through the frontline of the torso, showing off a muscular structure similar to that of a human.
Continuing up those scales led you to the head of the beast. It was similar in shape to a human’s but had seven eyes of pure milky white which filled the entire front due to the lack of a mouth. Extending from the sides of the face, there were clay-grey semi-transparent frills--appearing very much like a frilled lizard’s--that ran from the underside of the jaw up to a set of horns that the frills connected to.
Dante nudged Vergil, “Man, I thought Lady’s demon form was ugly--theirs takes the cake. Good job using that nose of yours and finding your mate, good thing you--” he stopped noticing his brother’s glazed-over stare.
Vergil was paying no mind to Dante or anything around him. His eyes were focused on the trinket that was embedded right in between the creature’s collar bones, nestled deep in the suprasternal notch. His blood ran cold as he would know that jewelry anywhere; it was his amulet half--the one he had gifted you on your anniversary nearly a year ago. He stood, unmoving--not even taking deep enough breaths to move his chest. Everything in him told him to fight the capsule of a demon in front of him; yet, he couldn’t bring himself to.
Dante, however, was paralyzed by neither fear, grief, nor anger; he was actually glad they finally found you. Giving one last glance at his, still very frozen, brother Dante moved into the large space--drawing the demon’s attention.
“So,” he started, “this is where you’ve been hanging out, huh? ‘Place is kind of a drag if you ask me,” Curiously, the demon slowly approached Dante, staring at him, “You ain’t gotta make this hard--just lay that big stick down and let us-” he looked back at Vergil, who still hadn’t moved, “or well let me get you outta there. Whaddya say?”
It stood in front of the younger brother for a moment then turned its head to look at Vergil. Without even returning their attention back to Dante, they punted the younger brother across the room with one swing of its paw. A loud crack emanated from the force of him hitting--and going through--the wall.
“Son of a Bitch…” With a groan, Dante slowly stood back up, “And I’m supposed to believe you’re the same person that gives me shit for my hugs.”
Digging his heels into the ground, Dante took off running. He raised his Devil Sword as he got within striking distance; however, the demon only backhanded him, sending him flying once more. The creature still hadn’t torn its gaze from Vergil; it almost seemed as if it was trying to place the eldest son. Dante attempted to strike again, only to be hit away for a third time.
The eldest son’s mind was racing; between infinite anger that spiraled to the deepest darkest depths of his demon and immense guilt for not protecting you eating at his human consciousness--Vergil, for the first time in a long time, was completely frozen. He was your boyfriend, your lover, your mate; he should’ve been there to protect you: instead, you ended up suffering something that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
“Okay, you bastard,” Dante sniffled as blood began to drip from his nose, pulling out Ivory & Ebony, “Let’s try this, shall we?”
Upon feeling the bullets hit the side of their legs, the demon turned to Dante--finally breaking their piercing staredown. It trotted towards Dante and swung its spear, only missing Dante by mere inches. He jumped onto the spear and ran up it, still firing the twin pistols. The creature used its free hand to grab Dante; moving much faster than the devil hunter had expected, and began to constrict him.
“Heh, you got quite the--,” he let out a strained groan, “quite the grip.”
Dante struggled a bit trying to loosen the demon’s grip. He couldn’t focus like this and, if he couldn’t focus, triggering (in any capacity) was off the table. So, Dante did what any younger sibling would do; he started to yell for his big brother.
“Vergil-- I could use a hand here!” Dante’s body started to ache from the pressure, “God damn it! VERGIL!”
The loud shouting from his baby brother pulled Vergil from his thoughts. He looked up at Dante and started moving. The demon’s attention was now drawn to the sudden movement of the oldest brother and ever-so-slightly loosened its grip. Not wanting to waste the chance, Dante quickly triggered; making the demon drop the lava-hot Dante.
“He-hey! Nice to see you finally helping out,” Dante rolled avoiding the large spear.
Glaring over at Dante, Vergil teleported near the creature’s ankle and sliced it with Mirage Edge; coating him with the creature’s blood.
Vergil moved to Dante’s side taking advantage of the few moments of reprieve the attack gave them.
“So, got any ideas?” Dante tried to wipe some of the blood off of Vergil’s face using his coat; however, Vergil harshly swatted away his hand.
Vergil’s brow furrowed, “Its front and neck would be the best places to try and cut it open; given its scales might be much thicker than I think…”
Dante twitched his head to the side in a nod, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Better than nothing. Shall we?”
The twins decided to split, each going opposite ways. Confused about what to do, it followed Dante with its body while attempting to use its tails and back paws to hit Vergil.
Dante took another large hit and created another crater in the wall. He fell to the ground catching himself at the last moment, coming to rest in a kneel. He took a moment to wipe some blood that had begun to drip from his mouth.
A large heavy object slammed into Dante, it was Vergil. The two of them hit the wall together, Vergil’s weight only shoving Dante further into the already-created crater: they both were going to be sore after this.
They both removed themselves from the wall and stood side by side, both slouching slightly.
With a growl-covered groan, Vergil’s eyes sharpened their gaze upon the demon, “You still have a trigger left in you, brother?” his breath had become slightly ragged.
Despite his exhaustion, Dante clapped back with his typical sarcastic tone, “Always--you sure you wanna use yours?” Dante straightened his posture.
Vergil flicked out his arm on the side opposite Dante, summoning his doppelgänger, “For this, yes.”
There was a flash of light and the two were both in their Sin Triggers. It was quite the sight, one that only would occur when the brothers were fighting themselves. Neither of them had to tell the other what the plan was; perks of being twins as Dante would say.
Taking the same approach as before, they spilt ways--Doppel following beside Vergil.
The demon was confused and turning itself around in circles over how many fast-moving targets it was now presented with. Vergil and Doppel managed to keep the creature’s attention long enough that Dante was able to get behind the creature’s head. With great strength, Dante grabbed the creature’s horns and pulled its head back. He did his best to keep it steady; however, it thrashed like a bull and unexpectedly was able to shake Dante around. Seeing his brother struggling, Vergil sent Doppel to assist him. With the two both pulling on the creature in opposite directions, the thrashing slowed.
Seizing the opportunity, Vergil shot up the midline of the torso cutting along it with the Yamato. Once he reached the bottom of the amulet, he stopped and fell back to the ground calling back Doppel; Dante followed suit.
They both stood as humans, having exhausted their demonic energy, staring with bated breath. The demon’s midline showed the cut; however, nothing was happening.
“Verge ain’t--” Dante’s face went pale after turning towards his older brother.
Vergil looked pissed, no, he looked beyond pissed. His grip had tightened on the Yamato so hard his knuckles were turning colors. Without warning, Vergil triggered himself once more and took off toward the demon; this time, however, the creature wasn’t being held back by others.
He jumped off of the spear that had been swung and avoided the other hand’s attempt at grabbing the blue devil. His speed was unimaginable as he was instantaneously on top of the demon’s head. With great effort, he plunged Mirage Edge deep into the scaly skin and tissues of the creature. Swiftly, he yanked the blade down the middle of the face, down the throat, and stopped above the necklace. With one of his forearm blades, Vergil gouged out the amulet and tore it from its resting place.
A large amount of blood began to spew from the new incision. Vergil was thrown violently from the beast as it began to flail about. A plume of blue energy emitted from the man as he hit the floor--hard. Dante ran over to the hole containing the other twin with slight concern. The once again human, Vergil lay unmoving in the newly-formed crater as Dante slid down to his brother’s side.
“Hey, you’re not dead--right?” the red demon poked Vergil slightly.
Vergil slowly opened his eyes and glared up at Dante, “It will take much more to kill me,” he sat up and groaned quietly in pain, “I assure you, little brother.”
Dante laughed and offered a hand to help Vergil up; which, normally he wouldn’t accept but today Vergil was too exhausted to fuss over such things.
Upon exiting the crater they found the demon laying on its belly like a resting horse, slowly bleeding out from Vergil’s second attack.
Vergil moved to finish it off but was stopped by Dante’s forearm, “Allow me.”
Dante carefully used his Devil Sword and re-cut over the Yamato��s shallow slice. Although the demon was dying, it did put up somewhat of a fight by swinging its hands and claws at Dante; all the while, its gaze found Vergil’s again--who was slowly approaching the suffering creature.
“Just die already, you son-of-a-bitch,” Dante growled through his teeth as he dug his sword further into the demon’s stomach, making it shout an ear-piercing sad cry; which sounded almost human-- Vergil did his best to ignore that part.
The demonic corpse dissolved slowly. Vergil had made it to his brother’s side as he watched the disintegration before them. He bent over and picked up the amulet that he had dropped while being thrown around. With a gentle sigh, Vergil placed it into his pocket and stood back up.
The pair's attention was now drawn to where the head of the beast once lay. In its place, you were laying there; naked and dead to the world. At first, the brothers thought you were actually dead but then they heard your faint heartbeat and took a sigh of relief.
Vergil’s expression was a strange mixture of joy, anger, and sadness. He walked over to you, his steps were cautious and silent. Once by your side, Vergil removed his coat, gently wrapped you in it, and picked you up. His brief moment of solace was interrupted by a large tremor.
“Hey, uh, Verge--” Dante quickly moved to his brother’s side, “You gonna be able to get us outta here?”
Vergil paused for a moment giving thought to whether he could or not, “Yes,” he pursed his lips.
Dante noticed his hesitation and was going to question him; however, the younger brother quickly put together why. “Vergil, hand them to me--you can’t use Yamato like that.”
“No, I--” another tremor broke off a part of the ceiling nearby, “Fine.”
Vergil handed you over to Dante and pulled out the Yamato. With a deep breath, he sliced open a portal and traversed through with Dante right behind him.
Once out of the other side, Vergil didn’t even give Dante a chance to think before ripping you from him. Vergil knows that Dante wouldn’t dare hurt you, however, he had an overwhelming urge to keep you far from anyone besides himself.
Dante looked around and scratched the stubble on his jaw, “Uh, Vergil… This ain’t the shop,” the pair was standing where they had entered nearly twelve hours prior.
With a low mumble, Vergil avoided looking at Dante, “I don’t have the energy for that…”
Dante bit his tongue hard--all he wanted to do was poke fun at Vergil and would have if Vergil was in a better headspace. Instead, he just simply nodded at Vergil, “Well… I can call a ride if you want..? I’m sure Nico wouldn’t mind picking us up--given she’ll want a cut of the pay.”
“She can have my half; I got what I came for,” money was the furthest thing from the blue devil's mind, all he could think about was that he finally had you back.
“Alright--you sure you’re okay with--”
“Yes.”
Dante let out a small ‘heh’ and pulled out his very well-protected phone.
Nico showed up around an hour later. Once stopped, the door swung open, and out strode Nero.
He looked over at his father and uncle, who were sitting on a ledge and the floor respectively.
“Holy shit, you actually found them? Nico said that Dante-- I didn’t believe her…” Nero extended a hand to help the very sore Dante off the ground. Without so much as a nod to his son, Vergil got into the van.
Dante groaned and cracked his back, “Don’t take it personally, kid. Vergil’s in a weird mood.”
“What happened? I saw the folder that was thrown on the floor of the garage, but--” the pair began to walk to the van side-by-side, “I don’t get how you knew.”
“When we get back… or after I take a hot shower and nap… I’ll fill you in on the details at some point,” Dante slumped down on the couch in the van that was opposite Vergil.
Before Nero could protest at Dante’s wait time, the younger twin was sound asleep--even snoring a little.
With everyone in the van, Nico began to drive; despite Nero still standing. Before the youngest Sparda descendant went up to his seat, he turned to Vergil, “You uh… gonna be okay?” Nero felt awkward asking the typically stoic man such an out-of-character question.
Vergil looked up at Nero with a confused tilt to his brow then back down to you, “In time, yes.”
Nero nodded--shocked that he got anything other than ‘yes’ or the silent treatment--and went up to the passenger seat for the rest of the quiet ride back to the shop.
==
The moment the van stopped; even before Nico had turned off the ignition, Vergil got up and was out the van door. He thinks he heard someone say something as he left, but he didn’t care. All he wanted right now was to be in his room with you in his arms. Quickly and quietly he headed up the stairs and into his room.
The eldest son prides himself on being the cleanest member of the Sparda line; however with you being gone, he had stopped caring about such trivial things. The room had quite a few sets of worn and unworn outfits strewn about. Several cups of half-drank liquids sat on various tabletops. The room wasn't messy by normal standards but Vergil was far from "normal".
He walked over to his bed. Vergil moved you so he could support your body with one arm and fixed the disheveled mess that was his bed. Once satisfied, he set you down on the bedding; he noticed that you were filthy --which wasn’t surprising due to what had occurred.
Vergil hesitantly left his room to get some warm water, rags, and some medical supplies. It took him a moment to figure out what to grab--he wasn’t the best at treating wounds, he hasn’t ever needed to know such things; so he was as methodical as possible. Seeing how Vergil was struggling to find what he needed, Nero silently helped his father gather what was needed. Vergil gave Nero a solid nod in acknowledgment of his help.
Upon returning to his room, Vergil began to gently wash your dirt and blood-ridden skin. While doing so, he noticed his hands had begun to shake. Furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in confusion, he stopped momentarily. Vergil never shakes, so what was going on?
Using exhaustion as an explanation, he dismissed it with a shake of his head. Vergil continued to clean your body. You had visibly become slimmer from the several months of entrapment. His eyes moved up to your face, you were still sound asleep but he noticed that you looked deathly sick.
He took the rag and rung it out. Your body was cleaned; however, you were still covered in wounds. Vergil knew that he couldn’t do anything for the copious amounts of bruises you had, so he moved to take care of several burn marks you had obtained; most of which were around your neck from Dante pulling on your demonic prison. Vergil put some burn cream onto his fingers and softly rubbed it on the marks. Letting out a shaky sigh, he moved on to the last thing he had to tend to before dressing you.
The Yamato might not have mortality wounded your capsule, but it seemed to have nicked your midline all the way up--the cut was too thin and clean to have been from Dante’s Devil Sword. After wiping his hands off, he applied an antibiotic gel along the cut. If you had been awake, you would have cussed him out, no doubt. The thought brought a small smirk to Vergil’s face.
He grabbed the gauze and began to dress the wound; however, Vergil stopped. His vision had become blurry and his mind went blank. During these past four months, he had cried a few times, but it was always controlled and well-restrained.
Right now, though? He felt like screaming. He felt like weeping until he became ill. All he wanted to hear was your voice, to feel your lips on his face, to be held as he sobbed uncontrollably. Vergil felt like a little kid again; alone and afraid of losing those he loves. A whimpering hiccup brought him out of his thoughts as he looked up at you. Confusion sunk in as he saw you were still fast asleep.
He froze. The noise had come from him. Vergil tried to suppress his tears; he hard-shut his eyes, tried angrily furrowing his brow, and even tried looking upwards; nothing worked.
Nothing could stop the storm of pitiful tears that leaked from his tired eyes. So, he worked through them and finished patching you up the best the blue devil could.
Another strained whimper left his lips as he straightened himself back up. You didn’t live at the DMC with the brothers, so Vergil did not have any of your clothes. He knew he couldn’t just leave you naked (since anyone could walk in and see you) so he rustled through his clothing. Vergil didn’t have much in the sense of “casual” clothes which made this difficult.
Eventually, he decided on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a sleeveless black turtleneck. He managed to get you into the much-too-big clothing and tucked you into the duvet of his bed.
Vergil spent the rest of the night by your side holding your hand as he quietly grieved.
==
Sunlight spilled into the dark room through the slightly ajar curtains. It was nearly noon and Vergil hadn’t moved from his spot next to you. Nero and Dante had both peaked in to check on you and the visibly exhausted hunter a few times… which they only got stared at in response.
The blue devil could hear your heart and your breathing just fine; but, was unable to keep himself from thinking you weren’t going to make it. He had convinced himself that this whole ordeal was his fault.
“Maybe if you hadn’t had such a noticeable trinket on you wouldn’t have been taken.” he thought, “or was it because you have been associated with our cursed bloodline that this happened?”
He felt a stinging in his eyes start once more, “I should have been there. It is my job to protect you and keep you safe. I failed you just like I have to everyone else,” his lips quivered as his breath stuttered, “Perhaps you would be better off without me,” Vergil’s chest heaved and his face twisted into a grimace. Once more, he had lost control of his emotions as he unintentionally tightened his grip on your hand.
“You trying to break my fingers?” a hoarse sarcastic voice snapped Vergil to attention. You had woken up and were staring at him with a gentle concerned crease of your brow.
Without a word, Vergil pulled you into a tight hug. Even if he wanted to say anything, he couldn’t; not in the distraught state he was in. Although you were still weak, you began to rub his back as you hugged. You relished in his scent and touch; something that felt like a distant memory while ensnared in the demon’s body.
“Miss me?” you heard and felt him shutter. He pushed further into you making you acutely aware of the large slice on your midsection, “Ow, fuck--”
Vergil left the hug upon realizing what happened and, still unable to speak, pointed to your torso. With unsteady hands, you rolled up the very loose black fabric, “Oh…”
Pulling the shirt back down, you looked at Vergil. His face was puffy and his eyes were bloodshot with prominent tear stains running down his face. Slowly you reached for your lover’s face and gently thumbed one of the tears from his cheek.
Vergil grabbed your hand and held it to his lips, just setting them against your cold skin. His expression was a mixture of painful sadness and overbearing happiness. A crease formed on his brow as he shut his eyes tightly. You could see Vergil trying to piece together what to say.
A few brief moments passed before he spoke, scarcely louder than a whisper, “I thought…” you felt his lips shake against your clammy skin, “I thought you were…” Vergil couldn’t bring himself to finish his words.
You sadly smiled as you used your held hand to thumb over his stiff fingers, “and leave you alone? Not in a million years, Vergil.”
The tremble in his lips worsened as his lips gently kissed your hand, stifling a whimper.
After he let go of your hand, you moved to sit on the edge of the bed allowing your feet to dangle off the side, “Come here..?” you beckoned to your unraveling lover.
“Are you sure--I do not want to hurt you again,” his response was sheepish and meek.
Not taking no for an answer, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto your lap. Having the large devil on your lap would have typically been uncomfortable; but, your want to hold him and comfort him in such a distraught state overrode every other thought.
He hesitantly straddled your lap. You noticed his uncertainty and gently pulled him closer, “Let me hold you, please?” you were trying to reassure him.
Which seems to have worked; he hastily put his arms around you. He held on tightly grabbing wads of the loose shirt’s fabric as if he were actively being pulled off of you. Since he was taller than you, his head rested atop yours. The side of your face was resting on his chest and your arms were wrapped around him as you began to rub his back once more.
The man’s breathing became ragged as he fought with himself and his emotions.
“Vergil, it’s going to be okay,” you lovingly rubbed your face against his chest, hearing his heart racing, “you can let go now.”
This small set of words finally undid the eldest son of Sparda.
You had seen Vergil cry before, but only in small quiet amounts; never as raw and shattered as this. The hunter began to shake within your grasp. The only noise coming from the man was loud uncontrolled sobs and sharp breathing. His grip on the shirt had become a death grip; holding on tight enough to rip through the tightly woven fabric. A deep rumble came from his chest as it seemed even his demon was crying out in anguish.
Deep within, you knew that these tears were for much more than your own disappearance. You knew that this strong soul had finally reached a breaking point. Closing your eyes, you pushed yourself into him and held him tightly, whispering sweet words of comfort to him. Gently and slowly, you kneaded against his back with your hands; knowing that it would comfort the blue devil.
Eventually, his cries slowed and his grip loosened. Vergil’s body shifted as he longingly kissed the top of your head. Letting out a heavy sigh and shutter, he leaned back. You smiled at him. Vergil smiled in return, his eyes creased at the edges pushing the few remaining tears from his eyes. He took one of his hands and placed it on your bicep. The other found its way to your face. He thumbed over your cheek and lips with an undertone of uncertainty and disbelief; that this was real, that you were home.
You leaned into the warmth of his palm, “I missed you too, Vergil…” a wave of a soft sadness mixed with love washed over you, “so very much.”
==
ENDING NOTES:
Hope y’all like the art with this one--admittedly this would’ve been done much sooner if I hadn’t decided to add that. The scales and all textures are not things I drew; they are all sampled from real things--the feet, for example, are textured using orange peel(s). All colors (except the maroon scales) are from Nelo Angelo and both of Vergil’s sin triggers--I did change some saturations, but the basis for them is all from the stoic man’s palettes.
⏳⏳⏳
I swear the next thing is not going to be more angsty/sad Vergil. I actually was writing this alongside “What Would They Think”--I’d get bored with one and write some for the other lol. Hopefully, you enjoyed this story! Much love y’all (I’m thinking something with V or Nero next; which, Nero’s H/Cs are the hardest thing for me to write for some fucking reason lmao idk what is going on with that.)
==
Bonus short story that I wrote as a warm-up; post story stuff:
==
Nero walked down the stairs of the Devil May Cry with a prominent dejected expression. With a small bounce to his step, the youngest Sparda descendant walked towards the fridge; however, an ‘ahem’ cough caught his attention.
J.D. Morrison was sitting on the edge of Dante’s desk smoking his typical stogie. The said owner of the desk was sitting there with a manilla folder in hand, staring at Nero.
Dante set the folder down, “So--” he leaned back in his chair, “How is he?”
Nero quickly glanced between the two, unsure of what he should and could say in front of the company broker.
The red devil raised a brow, “Well?”
“Uh-” Nero centered himself into Dante’s view, “He’s okay. Nothing’s really changed much.”
Dante slowly nodded and bit his tongue in thought for a moment, “... They awake?”
“No, doesn’t seem like they’ve even moved.”
“Damn it,” the younger twin sighed, “Let’s hope they do soon; I can’t stand seeing him like that.”
Nero shrugged, “At least Vergil’s not going to be a dick anymore.”
Dante laughed, “Careful, you might jinx us.” he grabbed the folder he had previously been paging through, “Interested in doing a job with me--takin’ Verge’s place for now?”
Nero took the folder from his uncle. After paging through it and reading it a bit Nero smiled slightly, “Sure, why not. Anything to get me out of here.”
“Good--” Dante turned his attention to Morrison, “We’ll take it.”
The broker smiled, “Glad to hear it. When--”
A loud abrupt noise cut off J.D.’s question. It had come from above them and Nero bolted to the stairs.
“Wait! Nero-” Dante got up fast enough to knock his chair over. He tackled Nero into the wall, preventing his ascension upward, “Stop.”
“Let go of me!” Nero shoved Dante off of him.
Dante put Nero in a sloppy cradle pin; holding him still, “Listen for a minute.”
The young hunter stopped struggling. He furrowed his brow as he whispered, “Is that crying? ”
With the same volume, Dante responded, “Yeah, it’s from Vergil.”
They untangled from the floor and stood up. Both of them decided to grab their gear before Dante acknowledged the semi-confused Morrison, “Let’s take this somewhere else--give Vergil his privacy.”
“Fine by me,” he stood up from the desk, “Although it would be nice to get an explanation once we leave.”
Dante nodded with an unintentional smile, “Not much to say… Just a long overdue reunion.”
==
ENDING NOTES (FOR THE SECOND STORY):
I figure that Vergil and Dante might not get along per se, but are able to be kind of nice to each other. Giving each other support or defense when needed; they are family after all.
(This is why Dante wants to leave)
==
Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)
MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR
#vergil devil may cry#vergil#vergil x reader#vergil needs a hug smh#I like to make vergil suffer#idk why#he is my favorite though#devil may cry#devil may cry 5#soft vergil#fan fiction#x reader#G/N reader#male reader#female reader#slight angst#slight fluff#slight comfort#Dante tries to be a good brother for once#AO3 fanfic#Reposted from AO3#story heavy#sorry in advance for how long this is#idk how to tag#or what I am doing here
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Sorry for all the requesting 🥺😭 This is gonna get dark!
May I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V reacting to their female S/O being kidnapped and tortured over a long period of time and they have to deal with the physical and mental aftermath when she’s finally rescued?
Ay, it's no problem. Here ya go, and enjoy!
Sparda boys + V X Fem!Reader kidnapped and tortured headcannons
Warning: As the title implies, there is some dark content coming up with themes of torture involved. If you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!
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¤ Dante ¤
-Oh boy. First it was his brother, and now his girlfriend? Whoever dared do this to you is in for a world of pain.
-He doesn't wait around long enough for the kidnapper to send him footage of what was being done to you; the moment he realizes you're in danger, he's hopped on his motorcycle and is looking towards your location which he discovered with his demon instincts.
-He finds you tied to a chair with barbed wire, bloodied, broken, and sobbing. While looking upon your battered and bruised figure, honestly feels like crying himself.
-Oh, his baby, his poor, poor baby. He loved you so much and never, ever, in his wildest dreams, would have wanted to see you hurt like this. He nearly Triggered right there and then, but he held himself back for your sake. He didn't want to terrify you any further than you were now.
-He got you out of that horrible place as fast as he could, his limbs shaking nearly as violently as you were when he carried you out of the kidnapper's hiding place.
-"Hey there, badass. You can relax now, it's all gonna be OK now that I'm here."
-The moment you guys returned to Devil May Cry, he fed you as many green orbs and Ibuprofen tablets as he could without overdosing you. He didn't want you to feel the pain anymore; he wanted you to be smiling and happy again.
-Once the medicine kicked in and you were comfortable enough to sleep, he held you. He refused to let go of you. He clutched you as tightly as he could, tears silently running down his face. How could he allow this to happen?! How could he let you get hurt like this? What kind of devil-hunter extraordinaire was he if he couldn't even protect the only woman in the world he ever truly cared about?
-He was going to spoil you with attention and affection even before you woke up. He wanted you to heal from this, and wanted to be the one to help you heal.
-You are so precious to him, and now he's going to show you just how much in any way he possibly can.
-Expect long, loving cuddles, big hugs every time you walk into a room, and words of affirmation whenever you look down.
-He'll also tenderly treat your wounds and wrap them himself, telling you how strong and brave you are to have survived all that pain every time he does so.
-This whole incident was a massive fright to him; now he's going to hold onto you so tightly, there's no way he could ever lose you again.
■ Vergil ■
-He is so, so, scared, but he refuses to show it. Vergil remembers what it was like to be brutally tortured at the hands of Mundus, so he is enraged and horrified when he finds out the same has been done to you.
-He can't stop himself--and won't. Whoever did this to you doesn't deserve that mercy. He Triggers, and sails away to find you, doing so in a sheer matter of minutes thanks to his demonic instincts.
-He bursts into your kidnappers' hideouts, roaring. He hears your anguished screams and flips into overdrive a second time, literally tearing through the walls as he frantically searched for you.
-The noise scared you, making you think it was the kidnappers returned to torment you further. However, when you saw the hulking, icy-blue devil crash through the wall, your fears were put to rest.
-The moment he saw your battered, torn form bound to a chair with barbed wires jutting into your flesh, he nearly blew up the building and all that was around it.
-There was so much anger coursing through his veins, you could feel it emanating from him, even as he gingerly undid your bonds and scooped you into his massive, scaly arms.
-"Do not cry anymore, Precious. The nightmare is over now. I am here. You are safe."
-He portaled you out of there with the Yamato and immediately took you to the hospital to get your wounds treated.
-He also refused to leave your side for any reason, insisting on staying and watching the doctors work, even if what they were doing was unsettling; he'd seen and been through much worse.
-The entire time, Vergil sat by your bedside, either staring at you intently, or holding your hand. He didn't want to let you go, and most certainly didn't want you to leave his sight.
-The moment you awoke, the first thing Vergil told you was that he loved you. He sounded out of character, considering this was something he rarely ever said aloud, but he was so afraid of losing you, and the PTSD of Mundus's torture was returning to him--he wanted you to have what he never did when he was recovering: comfort.
-He stayed by your side until you were discharged from the hospital, and after that, drove you home, only to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you till you both fell asleep.
-You both would undoubtedly be having nightmares about this for weeks, but for now, at least you were safe in Vergil's arms.
□ Nero □
-He found out what had happened to you in the worst way possible. He received a video from the kidnapper.
-It depicted the kidnapper, who wore a mask to obscure his face, using a crowbar to break your arms and legs while you were suspended by your arms from the ceiling.
-Nero lost it; his pseudo devil trigger Triggered and he was out the door in an instant.
-He doesn't possess the demonic tracking abilities of his father and uncle, unfortunately, but he manages to find you after a good half hour of searching.
-What he walks in on is disgusting. You're begging for mercy, sobbing and screaming under the pain your various broken limbs were causing you, all while your kidnapper laughed.
-Nero wanted to tie this motherfucker up and give him a taste of his own awful medicine, but he had bigger priorities: you.
-He freed you, shushing you when you screamed out in pain, promising he's gonna get you all patched up faster than you can think and that everything is gonna be ok.
-"You can rest now, baby, I gotcha."
-Once he takes you back to Devil May Cry, the entire Sparda clan and their friends are by your side in seconds, with Nero at the forefront. They heal your wounds in seconds and Dante makes corny jokes to lighten the mood.
-Then, they leave you and Nero alone to converse in private. It's a good thing they did, too, because almost as soon as the room was empty, Nero burst into tears, trapping you in a hug and sobbing into your shoulder.
-You ended up crying along with him; the two of you just bawling into each other's shoulders.
-Nero promised to never allow something like this to happen ever again, and spent the remainder of the night lying next to you with his arms and legs wrapped your you like a giant koala on a beat-up tree.
-You were very thankful for this because honestly, you didn't think you could survive this stressful, traumatizing night without having Nero snoring by your side.
● V ●
-V was texted a sickening video by an unknown number, and the moment he opened and watched, he collapsed.
-The kidnapper, standing offscreen, was repeatedly striking younin the face, chest, hips, and other areas with a spiked bat before kicking you in the stomach and shutting the camera--or whatever he used to film the video--off after releasing some unhinged laughter.
-V was terrified. He had no idea how to find you from this meager information, let alone save you.
-Still, he was determined to try, and so, gathering up his cane, he limped along, Shadow at his side and Griffon doing reconnaissance a few feet away.
-After some time, they found you, lying on the floor in an unbelievably deep pool of your own blood, yet still fully awake.
-V would have knelt there and cried, but he forced himself to swallow the tears and lift you to safety.
-Oh, Wanderer...what have they done to you?"
-He brought you to Devil May Cry and patched you up to the best of his abilities, using as many green orbs as he could get his hands on.
-Though your physical words may have been healed, your mental wounds were anything but.
-You were in so much shock, you were shaking from head to toe. V saw this and wished there was more he could do to help, but for now, he would hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, and rest his head in your lap while you told him anything and everything you needed to get off your chest.
-He read to you, too, his soothing voice doing wonders to ease your anxiety and calm you to a point where you could sleep.
-As V watched you slumber, he made a silent pact to always protect you, however he could, for as long as he could. He never wanted to see you go through something like this ever again.
#Dmc#Dmc5#Devil may cry#Devil may cry 5#Dmc dante#Dmc vergil#Dmc Nero#Dmc v#Dmc5 dante#dmc5 vergil#Dmc5 Nero#Dmc5 v#Devil may cry dante#Devil may cry Nero#Devil may cry vergil#Devil may cry v#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#v x reader#dmc5 dante x reader#dmc5 vergil x reader#Dmc5 Nero x reader#dmc5 v x reader#Requested#thanks for requesting#icycoldninja writes#Headcannons#Angst#angst headcanons
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