#dmc drabble

Self Aware Dmc!- Nicknames for their little darling!!

“-“ dialogue

‘-‘ thoughts

“Pink dialogue” -when two characters speak at the same time! (Though this only happens like once so yeah-)

Another thing I want to mention, is that the players appearance or gender is up to you! Hence why I keep their looks so vague and keep any works or drabbles I do gender neutral.

Enjoy!!

Dante Sparda- sweetheart or little sweetheart. I feel like it’s a classic, and that it suits his character over all. You cannot convince me otherwise that Dante wouldn’t be the type to say -either as a joke or to flirt- “Hello sweetheart~” or something similar. But also because he sees the player as a sweetheart due to their behavior towards him. He’d never forget the first time he’d felt your guidance in Mallet island. It was weird yet not hostile at all. You weren’t that type of person. It wasn’t until he first killed Phantom that he heard your voice. A simple “Good job Dante! We did it! Or rather you did…a-anyway-“ He almost melted, you sounded so sheepish…how sweet. What a pretty little thing…you always worried so much and always tried to makes sure he didn’t get hurt much. Considering he’s been with them the longest -something that he wastes no opportunity to brag about to everyone else- calling you a sweetheart is fitting. You truly were a sweetheart…his and his alone. It’s a shame he had to share you with everyone though.

“Welcome back, sweetheart! I’m itching to show off my ski- uh, I mean to get my hands on some devils! Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Vergil Sparda- dearest angel or my dear. Contrary to his little brother, Vergil is much more formal, if that makes sense. Though that doesn’t mean he isn’t just as corny or as lovey dovey, either. He sees the player as an angel, mostly because he himself is a devil. And what better way to see the very person who’s looked after him and given him the kindness befitting a being of purity, then as an angel? That’s what you looked and seemed like when he first heard you after all. As he journeyed through Fortuna, he heard your voice -your sweet and admittedly nervous little voice- while he eventually surrendered full control to you. The enemies seemed stronger than he imagined but under your guidance, it was child’s play. Despite your nervousness and squeamish behavior, you were skilled. He wished you had more confidence in yourself and your ability to play, his dearest angel. As for “my dear”, he thinks it’s rather simple. It’s because you’re very dear to him…and because it sounds formal yet loving. Something he’d like to sound for you. You always seemed to fawn over his -or any- gentlemanly behavior, after all.

“Hello, my dear…now now, don’t be so discouraged. You did wonderfully…let’s try again shall we? I’m sure you’ll do better this time with me as your vessel…that’s right. Guide the way, my dearest angel”

Nero Sparda and Kyrie- angel and snow drop. Now these two are special. They didn’t separate or argue with one another once they realized they’re interest for the player. Rather they agreed to share them between the two, hence why they also share the same nicknames for them! In Nero’s case, like father like son, he sees the player as an angel, but for different reasons. Like Kyrie, he’d been raised with the Order of the Sword and in a world of devils, seeing a pure soul like yours is a breath of fresh air. And besides what better nickname is there for the very person who’s guided him and looked after them for so long with such care and affection, but as an angel? So he started calling you his angel, with Kyrie adopting the nickname shortly after. As for Kyrie, while she agreed with Nero’s idea and reasoning to call you their angel, she had a nickname for you herself! She always saw you as someone delicate -and perhaps even sensitive- considering how emotional you always seemed to be during any cutscenes and your overall personality so she couldn’t help but see you like a flower. You certainly were as beautiful as one. So she came up with Snow drop! The flower itself was white, untouched like an angel and with the meaning of hope behind it…safe to say, Nero catches on to Kyrie’s train of thought too.

“Nero, look! They’re here again!” “Yeah, I can see them Kyrie.” “Do you think they’ll choose you again this time?” “Who knows? It’s good to see them again, though…” “Welcome back, angel…our dearest Snow drop”

Trish- little spark. Now as for Trish, she’s one who unfortunately hasn’t gotten the chance to see you very often. Only getting to see you during her time with Dante in Mallet Island and during the events of Fortuna and the whole scandal with the Order of the Sword, and the whole mess with V and Vergil. Seeing how careful and kind you were with Dante made her curious, wondering who you were and why show them so much concern and love despite not knowing them. But then over time, that curiosity turned into jealousy. Why did she never get much of the spotlight and a chance to be with you like those stupid spawns of Sparda? But when she was in Fortuna with Lady, she finally found her chance. And her jealousy subsided…if not for a moment…you were electrifying. Your control -no that was too harsh for your kind demeanor- your guidance was a shock. Nothing like that thunder she wielded so skillfully. She loved it. Your smile, your concern over her, the way you beamed and laughed in excitement when you got a taste of her fighting style. It was a damn drug. And so she thought the name little spark was fitting for you.

“If it isn’t my little spark…you really enjoy playing with me don’t you? Hm…then I better go all out. I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing me at my true potential, wouldn’t you?”

Lady- doll or little doll/dolly. Like Trish, Lady was jealous that someone like Vergil and Dante -that annoying, sleazy, debt collecting devil hunter him- got so much attention from you. Hell, even that stupid kid from the order got more time with you!! And she’s known you longer! Whatever, in any case, when she finally got her turn with you in Fortuna, she was both exasperated and excited. Y’know, she still remembered when she saw you for the first time. When she rolled up on her motorcycle to Temen ni gru, she heard a voice -your voice to be exact- say something peculiar. “Oh my gosh, it’s Lady!! She looks so cool!!” Lady?? That wasn’t her name…but considering how things were, she didn’t want to go by her real name. But why Lady?? You seemed to know her by that name…maybe you knew who she was but chose to go by Lady instead for…whatever reason. It wasn’t until she saw you again when she and Dante were killing demons together for the first time that she understood why you called her Lady…even though she knew Dante was the one who made the name Lady “cannon”, she likes to think you gave her the name first. It was the first time she fully took you in too. You looked like a little doll sitting on that bed of yours. Those stuffed animals of yours only added to that comparison. You’d always be her little dolly to her.

“Hey, doll! What d’ya say we show these devils who’s boss huh? I’m clearly the best devil hunter for the job anyway…you think so too, don’t you, little dolly?”

Nicoletta Goldstein- Tinker bell. Now, since Nico doesn’t really get a chance to play or experience your control over her like Nero, Dante and V do, she only knows you through them -mostly Nero specifically since he seemed to have the most missions- but you seemed like a cute little thing! You also seemed to like her a lot and really enjoyed seeing her creations too! If she had to say, she’d bet her best weapons that if you’d be with them, you’d offer to help around her lil’ station however you could. Considering how much you helped and saved the boys asses, this little assumption of hers probably wouldn’t be so far off. Hence why she dubbed you Tinker bell! And if you just so happened to share any physical or personality traits like the actual character, that’d only serve to back up her little nickname for ya! She could just imagine having you help around the van clear as day! Handing her any tools she’d need, pass a cigarette or two before getting told off by Nero for being a bad influence on you -and triggering your allergies…sorry Tinker bell- and who knows? Maybe you’d like to learn a thing or two from her! She’d be more than happy to do so!

“Hey Tinker bell! What d’ya need from yours truly?…oh fuck off Nero, I know they can’t hear me, but hey! At least they know to trust my judgment when it comes to getting your stuff, huh? Smart little thing, aren’t they?”

V- my muse and my darling. V, although one who unfortunately couldn’t spend much time with you, enjoyed what little he could. He saw you as a muse, ever present in his sight -when he was in your control, a familiar and almost foreign sensation now that he’s not fully himself at the moment- and mind. He saw you as a source of inspiration and as an end goal. Your beauty drew the sweetest words, just for you….even if he had to share with his familiars. But he’s made it this far despite everything, and now that you were here with him, that only strengthened his resolve. He’d see this through and be whole again. He swore it. As for “my darling”, he simply thought you’d like it. You seemed the hopeless romantic, and you certainly were a darling little thing yourself so the term was appropriate for you.

The gunfire's still echoing through the busted-out cathedral when you collapse behind a ruined bench, your hand pressed hard against your side. Blood soaks through your fingers. Fuck, this is way too warm, way too much. Almost immediately, that signature sharp pain starts occupying your abdomen.

You’ve been hit. Pretty bad this time, to be exact.

Dante’s voice cuts through the chaos, breaks you out of your numbness for a brief second. Right, you were on a mission together. You were supposed to stay behind him like he always instructs you to.  

“Hey! Where the hell are you?”

You try to call out, but it’s more of a gasp rather than real words forming. Fuck, this is even worse than you thought. Every breath you take feels like a knife stabbed into every inch of your skin. You hear his boots crunch stone, rapid and close.

Then he’s there. His eyes - usually glinting with some cocky one-liner waiting on deck - go sharp when he sees you, when he catches a glimpse of what definitely feels like a pretty ugly wound.

“Shit.”

“You already called me worse than that”, you huff out barely audible.

He’s kneeling beside you before you can blink, rebellion dropped with a clang. His hands hover for a second, like he wants to scoop you up and rip the world apart at the same time.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he mutters, voice low but ragged, carefully ignoring your last remark.

“Charging ahead like that…what, you think you’re me?”

You manage a weak smirk, a silent whine escaping your lips when his hand inspects the gaping wound you don’t dare to look at.

“Trying to keep up.”

That earns a shaky laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes like usual. He presses his palm over yours, steadying it in order to stop the bleeding of your wound. Warmth rushes through the contact, demonic energy humming at the edge of your skin.

“Don’t do that again,” he replies, and you can immediately tell it’s not a joke.

“Next time, I’m the one taking the hit. Got it?”

You nod, and his expression shifts just a flicker. Softer. Like the world narrowed to you, bleeding and broken, and nothing else.

Then, in true Dante fashion, he scoops you up, arms gentle despite the strength.

“You know I hate it when you pick me up like a baby- AH!”

“You’re lucky I like you. Let’s patch you up before I go back and finish mopping the floor with that ugly bastard.”

And as he carries you out, blood-streaked and cursing under his breath, you know this isn’t just a job to him. Not anymore.

Dante is way more than your comrade.

Tags: @moonlighteevee @elrondswifeyyyy @levisbrat25 @dragon-lord-lysander @punem699

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˖ 𑣲⠀⠀ ⠀ Vergil ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀╴╴╴╴╴⊹☾・ .‧₊˚ ☽ ‧₊˚˚ ╴╴╴╴╴₊˚⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ⠀

100% had the absolute worst cooking capabilities and ate the blandest meals known to man. Would eat something he completely smoked to a crisp, or simply eat something raw, something that you're really not meant to eat raw. Because why does it matter?

⠀ ⠀"I value sustenance, flavour is irrelevant."

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀That was, until he met you.

On one of your earliest dates, you had offered to prepare dinner at your place, to avoid the busyness of a Saturday evening in the city. You had cooked a fairly simple dish, small sample of spices and ingredients, nothing too intricate but from the way Vergil had reacted, it was as if he had tasted the nectar of the gods - something about the dish quite literally altered something within him that day.

Perhaps it really was the best meal in the entire world, it could have possibly been how it reminded him of dinner that his mum used to prepare for him and his brother, or maybe, just maybe it was the concept that someone cared enough to go out of their way for him. Someone took the time to gather, prep, and put together a heartfelt gift, for him. And that someone was you. You had thought to do something so sincere, so meaningful, so loving... for him. And that meant a lot, whether he chose to tell you or not. But don't fret, he is a man who shows his admiration through actions, not words... and show, he does.

Now, he takes great pride in his food, and learning new meals has become quite the past time for him. The kind of man to get you to taste test every single thing he makes, literally dragging you away from work or the phone, holding a spoon up to your lips as he has a slight smile strung onto his. Knitting his brows together in anticipation, awaiting your thoughts and feedback.

Early in the relationship, you would teach him meals, techniques, and help him manoeuvre his way around the kitchen - whilst he quietly and intently watched you, blush creeping up to his ears each time you reached over for a utensil or ghosted over his hands to demonstrate. But the longer you two are together, the more he continues to grow into a confident cook, often finding you around the house to offer you little snacks, or setting up an intricate 3 course meal when he's home from work. Even cooks food for DMC on a good day, intentionally serving Dante last, or just not serving him a plate at all. Definitely the type to kick everyone, other than you, out of 'his' cooking space, but does equally enjoy when his brother sneaks his way into the kitchen to steal some snacks - just because Vergil then has an excuse to throw knives his way whenever his little brother pokes his head around the door.

⠀ ⠀'Alright, alright, sheesh, I got it.. I'll wait.. damn. See this Y/N, pure bullying. I'm starving over here.'

10/10 helper in the kitchen though - and will gladly run the show if you let him.

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⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ @berry-delight-enjoyer

He was always so obvious to point out among the church goers.

Tall, white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a unique sounding voice that was commanding. His presence, along with his looks was intimidating.

Yet I was so intrigued by him.

Vergil was his name and to me, it fit him.

Strong, classy. It was the perfect name for him, in my eyes, none would fit him better.

Here I am, glancing at the man instead of listening to the priest… I’ll admit, I am more than just intrigued. I’m infatuated.

I don’t know if I’m in love but I am surely in something with him especially with the way how my heart would skip a beat when he would say hi to me, his usual cold tone becoming soft.

Even his eyes would become soft when we talked after the gathering. It always looked like he was listening to me intently when I answer his questions about my week as we sat next to each other in the pew, some of the kids running around while their parents talked to their friends, others leaving to get lunch.

And we would talk and talk and talk and I loved talking to him. And after we’re done talking, he would give me a small smile though last week he hugged me and I wouldn’t be lying if I say I didn’t feel my heart race.

He smelt of a spicy cologne and cigarettes, his body was warm, his arms strong yet his hug gentle. I was flustered, the hug was so sudden.

Vergil was rather reserved, quiet. It was clear that he wasn’t one to be a fan of touch so when he hugged me, I was surprised, my mind spinning in wonder of whats and whys.

I wonder if I would get that answer today?

[Torally not self indulgent cuz I just got all my hair chopped off]

hey omg this took almost an entire fucking month uhm sorry... i'm not entirely satisfied with it but i hope it's decent enough! thanks so much for your patience, i really REALLY appreciate it 😭🙏🏼

male!reader, 642 words

Reunited (link)

Vergil, sixteen years old.

I went to the fortune teller to have my future told. Thought maybe if I knew what's in store, I wouldn't feel like a brewing storm. She told me she wouldn't tell me my future before I made peace with my past. And I wanted to curse her ancestors to ten generations back.

I’ve been mad hormonal lately (baby fever is killing me) and have thinking a lot lately about V being a new dad 🥲 Could you perchance write a small drabble about V braiding his daughter’s hair? Doesn’t have to be long but I think it would be very cute :) No rush at all btw!! Take your time and keep being fantastic 🙏

THANK YOU SO MUCH! ENJOOOOOY!

Braids (V x Reader Fluff)

"Dada!" Your little toddler chirped, chubby hands outstretched.

"Hmm? What is it, sweetie?" V hummed, from behind her, his lanky fingers twining her long hair into intricate little braids.

"Kitty!" She shouted, pointing at Shadow, who slumbered in the corner.

"Yes, that's a big kitty," V chuckled, tying the braid with a small rubber band.

"Touch! Touch!" Your baby squealed, continuing to wave her little arms around, apparently trying to reach the large creature.

"Not now, you have to sit still so I can do your hair." V replied, calmly. Once he'd finished his work, he handed your daughter a large hand mirror and smiled while she admired herself, pretty pink lips widening further and further with each passing second.

"What do you think?" He asked, as the little girl leaped to her feet.

"Pretty!" She squealed, running into V's open arms.

"And what do we say?" You prompted from across the room.

"Thank you, Dada," Your daughter chimed, pressing her pudgy face onto V's chest.