#even yourself

Totally couchbound

Fast food bags and wrappers surround him and even can be found in his folds

BRRRMPPTTTTTTTT

He's of course helplessly gassy. You ensured it by putting him on that diet

His tubby face and chins are smeared in grease and sauce, majority being mayo

You made sure he craved the extra fatty stuff, stuff no sane human would ingest even on a dare

Lest they turn into a porker like him

His sweaty body looks as if it could give off steam it was so hot

You tuned the temperature of the "living room" to make sure he was always sweating

A bottle of sugary soda or an ice cold ice cream shake was always in reach to cool him down

Especially when he unceremoniously dumps it down his front because his fat sausage fingers were deprived of any dexterity long ago

He loves the feeling of the icy cold slop washing down his bloated areola

Those plumped nipples he was constantly groping and teasing any time he got even remotely close to turned on

After all even when he could get up he couldn't reach down there

A growing mound of pubic blubber and a steady dose of specially crafted "supplements" ensured that

And oh how he was turned on

Maybe it was the constant stream of humiliating smut you'd play over multiple TVs in his eyeline.

Maybe it was the fact any time he fruitlessly attempted to stand like he was still capable of being a functioning person the wobbling of his fatpad stimulated that useless little thing it'd swallowed

Maybe it was you constantly fucking his cavernous greasy navel like it was your own personal onahole

Or the friends you allowed to do the same

Maybe his mind was so hopelessly broken that the mere act of eating that greasy slop one could charitably call "food" made his pathetic cock twitch

Either way it gave him hands free orgasms that made him spurt hot gallon sized puddles of cum directly onto the carpet in front of where he sat

On that couch

His prison

His permanent home

You know he loves it

At least

AKA touch grass protocol/ have you tried turning it off and on again

(for when it feels like things are going wrong)

- Get some sleep!!! Goodness knows most of y’all don’t get enough. Please. Nap. I’m begging you.

- Drink! Water! Right now! Go do it! It’s been said before, but hydrate or diedrate!!

- Eat something - lil snacks, meals, I don’t care, just something.

- Take a shower! Especially now that it’s getting pretty cold in some places, it’s v nice, and also it’s good for your Frog Brain (and if you don’t think you have a Frog Brain, think again. It’s in there somewhere).

- Breathe. Take a breath. Take another one. Keep it going. You are loved. You got this. Please take care of yourself. 

That’s extremely high praise, thank you so much! I’m honoured you like my work, thank you for reading. This prompt was a lot of fun to think about and I hope you enjoy it, even though it…ended up being a little longer than I planned.

If anyone would like to use any of these headcanons for their work, let me know so I can see!

The thing to remember about V is that he did not expect to live this long. From the moment he was separated from Vergil, V lived with the understanding of being the opposite side to Urizen’s coin, and the month or so of V’s lifetime was absolutely consumed with the directive of making things right again. So when V is granted the opportunity of his own existence, he’ll need some time on his own to self-reflect and reorient himself with the prospect.

V would like to travel, for a little while. A happy ending in my mind means he has his familiars by his side, or some alternate version of them, uncorrupted by Vergil’s trauma. Before the events of DMC5, V spent a month in Red Grave helping civilians escape, so we know he’s a helpful, sympathetic man at heart–but he’s also robbed at least one person to gather enough money to hire Dante. I think he’d fare fine wandering on his own for a while, either exchanging small favours with locals for room and board or, as a last resort, taking what he needs to survive.

V develops his calligraphy skills writing letters to his friends, the longest and most verbose of which are those he sends to Vergil. He takes great pride in his lettering, and stationary. There are probably wax seals on them and everything.

Once he returns to wherever he chooses to call home, the first thing V does is build a personal library. The book of Blake’s poetry was from Vergil’s childhood, but the love of reading is his own; not a single book enters V’s library without him having read it first, cover to cover. As you can imagine, he has a lot of catching up to do.

I imagine V would devour other sources of media and fiction the same way. V has Vergil’s memories of old books/movies/music/plays, but with his new lease on life, he would want to experience as much as he could firsthand. V would be extremely open-minded about listening to/watching/reading new things–yes, that includes anything you might think is ‘bad,’ as he wants to experience it all because he’s alive and he can–but he’s also brutally honest as he develops and curates his own picky tastes.

As he’s living on his own, there is no doubt in my mind V would learn how to cook. He’s not very good at it, at first, and Griffon doesn’t keep that a secret. But it’s the art he takes up to improve at, and he enjoys appreciating signs of his progress. His goal is to get good enough to host a fancy dinner party with the rest of the DMC crew. No one else even knows the man cooks until the over-the-top, fancy-calligraphy invitations go out.

V adores abstract strategy games and would learn to play as many as he could get his hands on, possibly keeping a collection he started during his travels (some of the ways he made money was by being an absolute shark.) Chess, Shogi, Go, Mancala–all of his sets are on display in his library. His prowess has discouraged his regular opponents, though, so no one ever actually plays games with him anymore. Sometimes Griffon will humour him with a match or two if V lets him win at cards enough times.

Finally, V enjoys any activity that reminds him he exists–less hobbies and more the idle moments of reflection he never, ever takes for granted. Reading by the fireplace with Shadow resting in his lap. Sitting with his old crew as they laugh at stories shared around a late-night diner booth. A cloudless sky outside his window that lets him see the stars. Anything that reminds him of how happy he is to be alive.