Hey, first off I love your writing so dearly, it's wonderful! I have a question and possible trope. I read what Dante, Virgil, and Nero would do if they were with a chubby lover, and how they would react if someone else insulted them for their weight. But what would they do if the one insulting their weight is themself? Like their lover with insecurities that leads them to belittling or putting their own body down? How would they respond?
Terribly sorry for the belated response to this, nearly a year since you first put in the request, but here she comes: a sequel to The More to Love. Crazy to think that it also been a year since that post came out way back in October. Regardless, please enjoy the boys comforting their chubby lover.
Dante
He isn’t a stranger to being concerned with the way he looks. Just human enough to pass, but if you looked, really looked at him you’d see it… the demon inside. He was worried you’d be scared of that when the two of you started dating. Truth be told, he was ready to embrace the frightened look he’d inevitably see in your eyes when he’d have to trigger his devil form. The fiery red scales and the inferno broiling around him deterred lesser demons, but they didn’t scare you. You, in all of your beauty and grace, held his face in your hands after the threat was dealt with. You called him pretty. Pretty! And just like that, his doubts were washed away, gone to the wind when he picked you up into his arms.
So why was it that you could accept that part of him– every part of him–, but not yourself? Why were you so mean to… to you?
The way you put yourself down in front of him irks him because how could anyone think such nasty things? I’m too fat, you said, I’d be prettier if I weren’t… and you, you deserve to be with someone who isn’t–
“Who isn’t… what? So charming? So… sexy?”, he chimed in, getting in the way of your words. It’s all bullshit. He wouldn’t stand for it, and neither should you(even if you’re talking about yourself here.)
“I don’t get what the issue is here”, he did, but this was something you needed to hear. You needed to know that he didn’t care about your weight or how you looked. You didn’t care about how he looked.
Before you know it, he’s taken your hands into his own, looking at you with those pretty eyes of his. The eyes you adore. The eyes that bear down on you with nothing but adoration.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re fine just as you are. Got that?”, his voice comes out in that hushed little drawl, just for you.
Dante’s thumbs brush over your hands as he lets go of them to hold your face.
“But…–”
“No buts!”, he declares, moving closer to wrap his arms around your form.
His hands are gentle as they are possessive as they coil around you. He’s warm. In the warmth of his embrace, does he give you an appreciative squeeze, leaning his head down to kiss the top of your head.
“... but if you do want help with that, I’d be more than willing to lend ya hand. We can eat healthier… and exercise, if that’s what you want”
If there were any tears or quiet sobs in the silence, he waits to hear your response. Or, at the very least, wait for you to bring your arms around him.
“... okay”, you sniffle, “Thank you, Dante”, you smile into his shoulder.
He has to bite his tongue, only because you’re so damn cute.
Vergil
He can’t understand why this would possibly ever be a problem, or how you could think such things about your body. If it wasn’t causing you any physical discomfort, what was the issue here? Why would he think you’re unattractive because you’re plump? Quickly, before any other more insults towards yourself can leave your mouth, he cuts you off.
“That is enough”, he’s frowning, but that’s his usual expression. It’s not a matter of what he thinks, but a matter of what you think and how you perceive yourself. Of which is not to his liking, it would not be the first time you’ve said something he did not agree with.
“If you’re unhappy with the way that you look, then we can change it, but I don’t ever want to hear you say such things about yourself again”, his gaze is cast elsewhere for a moment before he reaches out to you. Tentative, allowing you the choice of whether you want to move into him or not.
It’s not threatening you, is it? Another thought that comes to mind is if someone else has said something about your weight to you… perhaps a family member or acquaintance of some sort. He doesn’t know to what extent you’ve endured such negativity about yourself for, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let you suffer it for any longer. You aren’t too much of anything, not to him. You’re you, and if there is anything that’s right in this god forsaken world, then it would be you. Not what anyone else thinks, or even what he thinks for that matter.
“Do you really believe that?”, he asks, his brow furrowing as his gaze finds you again.
Do you really think those things about yourself?
“... What if I can’t keep up with you, what if I weigh you down? I don’t want to be… I don’t want to be a burden to you”, are the words you say to him.
Oh how it burns. How it hurts to hear you think that you could ever be that to him.
“You never have been, you never will be… regardless of whatever form or shape you are”, he brushes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. That cold stare has thawed, becoming like gentle snow as it catches you.
The relief that washes over you when you hear his words is a balm to the weariness that plagues you. You tried to brace yourself for his rejection, expecting it to come with an easy or reluctant dismissal, but it never came. His reassurance, his vow, it’s almost overwhelming. Yet he is unyielding, as he ever is. Vergil presses his forehead against yours, letting you cry to get it out of your system. He is here, and here he shall always be, even if you think he ‘deserves’ better or if you’re unsatisfied with yourself.
He was unsatisfied with himself at one point.
Nero
“What are you talking about..?”, it catches him off guard when he sees you so crestfallen in front of a mirror.
You had been holding your stomach, gritting your teeth together as you started to list off all the things you thought was wrong with yourself. Always hungry, too pudgy, not enough. Before you can continue he’s already walking closer to you, both hands raised, not that you wanted him to leave or to back off.
“Woah, woah, woah– stop that… You’re… you’re not too fat for me”, you could hear the waver in his tone, the dip in his voice when he said ‘fat’. Like a puppy whining, as if he had been the one to be scolded.
Nero tried to figure out what to do with his hands, until they reached to settle on yours. He didn’t pull them away from yourself, but he seemed to be trying to figure out what was wrong. His eyes were searching yours, hoping to find an answer in the depths of them, through the tears and the red puff as you cried.
“Where is this coming from?”, you hadn’t ever… he didn’t think this would be something you’d be hung up on. “Listen to me, you’re not too fat and being fat doesn’t make you ugly or unattractive at all. I like you like this”, he says quickly, before his hands move up to cup your cheeks. His thumbs brush under your eyes to wipe away the tears as you stand there, hiccuping your breaths, trying to keep it in.
“Come on, breathe… it’s okay to cry- was it something I said?”, he asks, one brow cocked in concern as he tries to think back on if he had ever mentioned anything about your weight. He could be such an idiot sometimes, and he hoped that he hadn’t made an off handed comment that could’ve spurred you to take it out on yourself, but you had shook your head.
“You didn’t say anything, Nero…”, you managed when you had started to take breaths for yourself.
He almost let out a sigh of relief, but you were still upset, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Really, what… or who, made you cry? Who made you think such awful things about yourself?
“So why are you… who put all of those dumb thoughts in your head then?”, he asks.
Who hadn’t? With all the skepticism, all the judgement made on your figure… it was hard to pinpoint where it all began, if not when. When you calm down a bit more, you look into the blue of his eyes, wanting to hear it from him again.
“Did you really mean that, earlier… when you said you like me like this?”, you ask.
“Every bit”, he nods, going to kiss your forehead, “And there’s nothing that can ever change that”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
In which you spend Christmas with Vergil and his family. A Christmas special that was totally on time by the way. That I totally didn't forget about. By the way.
The Devil May Cry was more lively than it had been for a time, the jukebox buzzed with life as Dante was in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of eggnog for the handful of people that would be dropping in for the holiday. He could always count on Morrison being here, his old drinking buddy when no one else was around and ‘work’ was slow, and he knew that Lady and Trish would be here as always, but this year would be different. This year, he’d get to spend Christmas with his brother and his old friend. After what felt like ages, they’d finally be out of hell, cleaning up the mess that Vergil had made trying to achieve true strength. Ha, because that had only gone so well the first time.
Still, he was glad to have him back. Not as an enemy, or a fragment, but him as he wholly was. It felt so wrong to go so long without his twin, back when they were kids, he thought it’d always just be the two of them against the world… but that was so long ago. He’d grown and the hole left in his wake had already began to mend itself when he met the kid, and when he had Lady and Trish there at his side. He wasn’t ever truly alone, not like Vergil was, which makes him all too happy to be able to share the holiday with his twin and the only other person in his life. The little reader from the library by their old home.
He could hear Vergil coming down the stairs as he stirred the bowl with the ladle, admiring his handy work as he added just one more shot of whisky to the mixture. With the building’s heater and AC, they’d have to keep warm somehow, right? It’s not like Patty was coming over anyway, so they didn’t have to worry much about that. Dante could feel his brother’s eyes on the back of his head as he turned to regard him, a lazy grin on his face as he saw him in a stuffy sweater that looked itchy as hell. The cable knit had a snowman on the front, with a carrot nose and a black tophat to boot.
On the way back from the store, there was a hat, he would’ve liked to have nabbed for Mr. Grinch over here but Vergil shot him down before he could even suggest they get it.
“Look who decided to leave his room. I’m finishing up on the drinks over here, but uh, why don’t you go and start decorating out in the front? It’d certainly be a lot of help, Lady and Trish just brought the tree in”, he points to the lobby with his eyes as he decides to pour himself a cup of eggnog. As a little reward for his ‘hard work’.
“Hmph… very well”, he mused, “Do you know when our little reader will get here?”, he asked, folding his arms at his brother while he flicked his eyes over to the box set up near the door where the evergreen had been propped up with the stand. The tinsel and ornaments were sticking out of the box, and he didn’t doubt that it’d be a hard task for himself… if not tedious.
“Yeah- they called not too long ago, they should be getting here now”, he hummed as he sipped the creamy concoction, savoring the slight burn from the alcohol as it slid down.
As if right on cue, the door opens, and you make your grand entrance. You’ve met up with Vergil before this, by mere coincidence at that. He wasn’t looking for you, and you weren’t looking for him, so sure that it was the last you’d ever see of him again. But even so, that didn’t stop him from seeing the smallest hints and traces of you in everything. The way the sun set reminded him of you, of the time before he had taken the yamato and cleaved a path for himself. That you survived his armageddon brought him more peace than he could know, as he found you amongst the survivors trying to rebuild in Redgrave City.
It felt like you hadn’t changed, like you had remained just as you were on the day that you said goodbye for what could’ve been the last time. You didn’t like it then, telling him that it was just a farewell, that you’d see him again. And you did, the both of you did. But unlike then, he was more mature now. Your nose was red from the cold, your cheeks and even your fingertips held a rosy hue as he appraised you. A part of him disliked how faulty the systems of the agency were, having figured that his businessman brother would have the sense to maintain it better. The cold didn’t bother him much, but he saw the way you pulled your own sweater closer to your form, trying to stay warm.
Vergil laments that there isn’t more that he could do for you or to offer, and he isn’t sure if you’d like to drink Dante’s eggnog…
“Hey! You made it in one piece, want some eggnog?”, he heard his brother pipe up as he moved to step into the lobby from the kitchen.
“Oh- I’m alright, thanks. I think I’ll definitely have some later though”, you pipe up as you step closer to his twin. Vergil’s gaze still sits on you as you regard him with a similar look, your eyes drifting down to his chest, staring at the little snowman on his front before you bring your eyes back up.
“You’re staring”, your voice is a quiet reminder as he chuckles softly.
“I’m just… appreciating your outfit. I’m glad you decided to come, as ridiculous as this is…”, he admits, pinching the cheek of the snowman. It’s itchy, but he doesn’t mind it much.
“Well, that’s sort of the point of an ugly sweater party, isn’t it?”, you ask, wearing that half smile he had missed so much since he had last seen you. It’s a comforting sight.
You had worn a green sweater, with a fuzzy Rudolph pattern, with the red nose being made of sequins instead of being sewn on. You look off to the side to see the barren tree and its lack of any ornaments or other decorations on it.
“You haven’t started on the tree yet?”, you ask with a quirk of your brows.
“Ah… on that you’d have my brother to blame”, Vergil gestured to Dante who held his hands up with a shrug. It’s not that he had been putting it off(it was), but there were just other, more pressing matters to attend to. That’s all!
Of course, they were lucky to get a tree at all on the day of Christmas. If it weren’t for the girls, they’d be treeless(and homeless), just another debt he owed to his partners in crime. More so to Lady than Trish. You don’t linger for very long as you step over to the box and reach in to take something out, a silver ball and some other things. There were lights, and a star, but that was just about it. Nothing to put on the mantle, or even stockings for that matter. You had the feeling that Christmas wasn’t too celebrated within their family, which was fine of course, and made sense.
Demons celebrating Christ? That had to be a sin.
“Come on, let’s get started then”, you gave him a little nudge with your elbow, and so Vergil started to get a move on setting up the tree with you.
At least he’d have some company while he did this. The two of you could even start to catch up some more. Your exchanges ever since he had resurfaced along with his brother from the pits of hell have been brief, given due to his search of work and your own obligations, but you still had trouble getting over the fact that your childhood friend was an aspiring tyrant not that long ago, for his own reasons. The apotheosis of his plans had very nearly cost the world… he wonders how you can bring yourself to consort with such a villain now. The part of himself he cast aside would have a better idea than he, for even now, he struggles. As he loses himself to his thoughts, something tugs at his fingertips.
“Are you just going to stand there?”, you had asked him.
“I was merely giving you a head start”, he tactfully replies.
You seem to know what you’re doing, picking to space out the ornaments as he looks to the box to pick out his own handful of orbs to toss around on the tree. The last time he remembers doing this was when he was still a child. Dante would hurry along with the tinsel, running along the tree while their mother lifted him higher and higher. Then she’d lift him next to put the star on top. He expects to feel pain at the memories rising, a gentle sting, but he can only hear your voice.
“When I was younger, this was my favorite part of the holiday, not the gifts but decorating the tree. Everyone pitches in, and when we finished we’d have a hot cocoa together”, you mused, warmth blooming in your face as you recalled the memory with fondness.
You seemed so bright to him then, like you had when you two were leaving the library, and the sun hid just behind your taller frame. Standing next to you, he placed a hooked ball on a branch just above your own, your ornaments not without a pair as you hooked them up together. The silence filled in after your thought, a moment passing before it’s broken again, this time by him.
“… that sounds… nice. Perhaps after this then, you and I could indulge in a nice drink”, he offered, not without some awkwardness.
“I’d like that”, you nod, eyes carefully glancing up to his from where you stood.
So much time had passed, but you still see him. You can still see that haughty little boy that had so stubbornly tried to remove you from his spot in the library all those years ago. The awkwardness in his voice, the way he shifts around, almost as if uncertain with what to do with himself… it’s all so cute. He can try to be stoic, to appear indifferent or detached, but he’s teeming with excitement even if he doesn’t allow himself to say so. You give him a half smile, and he returns it, a smirk stretching across his face as he turns to collect more ornaments from the box.
“What are you thinking about?”, he asks, pulling the tinsel from the loose bunch it had been haphazardly thrown in. Without care, he could add as he started to untangle it from its fixed position in the worn cardboard.
“… I don’t know about everything that’s happened in the time we’ve been a part, but I’m glad we got to meet again”, you tell him as you stare at his back.
Most couldn’t say the same.
“I was sure you’d have forgotten about me”, he admits, turning back to face you, his arms spread out to get ready to wrap the length of the decoration around the evergreen tree.
“There isn’t a thing about you that’s forgettable. I don’t know anyone with hair so… silver, or with a face so…”, you take a moment to gesture, “You”, that is to say… “I promised that I wouldn’t forget you”
And you had the mind to call him little prince, just as you had always thought to when you were kids. Vergil laughs, but it’s a soft little ha, like you’d expect. You take one end of the tinsel from his hands as he starts to walk around the tree to dress it up. He could surmise the same thing about you. Every part of you was so memorable to him, carrying a little bit of you with him as he went about his life. Unknowingly dancing along to the same tune of that villain from the book you had been reading then. For all the blood shed and the violence wrought, the greatest gift he had received from it all was the chance to be here before everyone now.
Most of all, you.
You, who had only ever stared at him with those adoring eyes.
He’s stealing glances at you again from beyond the tree, through the branches and the many glittering ornaments as the two of you circle each other from around the tree. He chases after you, picking up his pace by a step until the tree is well adorned. Stepping back, he looks back at it, as you come to join him. The holidays have lost their magic to him, for the greater part, but he cannot deny the thrumming in his chest as he stands with you. It’s missing something though, arguably the most important part of a Christmas tree. You turn to fetch it from the box, looking down and inside to see the dusty little star from within.
Plucking it out, you give it a good blow, watching as the particles fly off with concealed disgust. Ah, well nothing a quick wipe wouldn’t mend. Vergil steps closer from behind you, his hands coming to appear over your own as he wipes it with his palm. Looking down at it from over your shoulder, something flickers within him.
“Why don’t you go and put it up”, you muse.
You don’t lean back into him, just as he goes to pull away, stealing the star from your hands to go and look at the top of the tree. His frame is tall, but it’s just barely out of reach. The little prince leans up on the tip of his toes as he reaches out to put the star on the point of the tree. Your hand slides over to the small of his back, steadying him should he start to teeter and fall. It’s not at all needed, but it shows that you care. He finds himself enjoying it greatly…
”Wow! Great work you two”, Dante pipes up after what feels like an eternity of silence. Vergil hadn’t forgotten he was there, but it startles you. The eldest twin turns to regard his younger brother with a look that the other shrugs off.
“Yes, well… what have you been up to exactly?”, Vergil quipped.
“Hey now, I’ve been setting up shop too, see?”, Dante pointed up at the ceiling above them, the both of your eyes trailing up to meet the little green herb that had been strung up.
“Mistletoe…”, you had correctly guessed. Dante winked at you before he left to go get something else, likely the food for tonight’s party.
He wasn’t saying it outright, but he was picking up on the tension filling his agency now, hoping this would expedite the journey. Vergil scoffed, then rolled his eyes, finding it stupid. Why did it matter if someone stood under it? He turned to you for a moment, about to comment on it when he held his tongue. The thought hadn’t struck him at all, earnestly. Then he looked away, going to go back to regard the tree. The two of you ended up doing a splendid job, just as Dante had apprised.
“So about those drinks hm?”, you asked with a chuckle, “There’s a cafe that’s open near here, unless you want some eggnog?”
”I think I’ll pass, let’s go to the cafe”, he agreed, eager to get out of the shop. The ugly sweater he wore was just now starting to itch. Vergil tugged at his collar as you made your way to the door.
You opened it for him as he walked out, passing Lady and Trish on the way. They had a few bags in their hands. Last minute Christmas shopping huh? At Dante’s expense, undoubtedly. Vergil glanced at them as you closed the door behind you. The snow began to fall in small flakes from the sky, slowly dotting your hair as you walked. He followed just a few steps behind, keeping his pace as you walked. His pale eyes glanced at your hand as you strode down the path towards the little coffee shop you spoke of.
His hand reached for you before he could stop himself, holding onto your fingers as you walked. You didn’t stop to ask him why, or to think to question it. The cold touch upon your warm hand was a feeling you’d been missing since forever. He fit there, sliding into place like a jigsaw piece. Vergil’s thumb rubbed behind your palm as you curled around his thumb. It isn’t very far, and the golden glow of the cafe glows softly, the light pouring out from the glass windows.
The inside is just as warm and cozy, with soft jazz playing overhead. The scents of the patrons and brewing coffee and cocoa alike would’ve bothered him normally, and he didn’t feel very comfortable meandering through public spaces like that, but he focused solely on you.
“What would you like?”, you asked, turning to look over your shoulder, a wry smile on your lips.
“What did you get when you were a kid?”
“Two hot cocoas then, with little marshmallows and whipped cream”, you tell the barista on hand.
You watched them make your drinks with some small appreciation as he looked on with a bored expression. It was nothing special, but he would appreciate the end product. You’re still holding his hand even after you pay for the drinks and when the two of you stand off to the side to pick them up. The cardboard sleeve helps to not burn your hands, but it’s not like it’d matter for when you’d step back out to return to the office anyway. Vergil brings the drink up to his lips and goes to take the first sip. It’s still hot, but not so searing that it seriously hurts him, not that it would.
“How can you drink it like that?”, you ask, waiting for it to cool down enough to not burn your tongue.
“Like what? It’s perfectly fine for me”, he gives a small smile, almost smug.
You shake your head, “Doesn’t that burn?”, you question him.
He shakes his head as he goes back to it, smacking his lips lightly to pass his judgement. It’s a little too sweet for him, but it’s not terrible. Cocoa is a children’s drink after all, but this is what he asked for. He’d take what he was given, refraining from making any complaints. You blow on yours from the little hole in the lid, not wanting to risk it even if you felt compelled for a sip just now. You find it endearing at least, that he was eager to try it enough to not wait for it to get to a comfortable point to drink it from.
Vergil starts to walk back, guiding you this time back home.
Headcanons for the Reader & Vergil off of the fic I wrote. Randomly assorted for your viewing pleasure.
Enjoy.
: ̗̀➛ The company the two of you share doesn’t need to be filled with words. You’re more than content with sitting in the silence besides one another, but subtly you will begin to lean towards Vergil, and at first he doesn’t quite like it. He’s still getting used to having you be so close and invading his space. The first time you rest against him, he bristles, almost like a cat. Or a hedgehog with how his hair is styled. It was so cute you couldn’t help but to giggle quietly. But why were you laughing? He’d have half the mind to shove you off as he would with his brother… but you’re soft. He needs to be gentle with you, lest he make you cry or something. What a headache that’d be… so he lets you lean on him. Like he’s some sort of pillow.
It’s annoying. Yes, but you’re warm when he’s cold, and it isn’t hurting him. It’s… enjoyable… he supposed. It becomes routine, something he starts to expect from you now. When you don’t do it on one of your little playdates, he exchanges stares between you and the pages of his own poems. Vergil waits, he can be patient. He knows how to be, but… why aren’t you leaning on him now?
He calls to you, quietly, but the little prince has a bit of expectancy in his tone. Why aren’t you resting your head on him already? And then you tell him it’s because you thought it irritated him and that he might’ve liked his space.
“You’re already here, aren’t you?”
He lifts his hand to your head and nudges it to his side. The two of you can swear to hear someone chuckling from behind the rows… how creepy.
: ̗̀➛ Sometimes he’ll read to you out loud, wanting to recite Blake to you as it’s something near and dear to his heart. You didn’t much care for poetry before meeting him, but listening to Vergil as he reads the lines is soothing. Which, is hilarious, because once you had found his voice to be quite grating. Now when he reads, you listen to his every word, trying to pick out what it means or to ask about certain words you haven’t heard before. It’s one of the times you get to see him smile, as he proudly and happily explains to you what the poem means in full. Vergil even encourages you to read some for yourself and to tell him what you think it means. He’s grown rather curious of your thoughts…
: ̗̀➛ He asks about the stories you read on occasion when the both of you aren’t in the library. Where it’s okay to be a little louder and to not whisper. Fiction isn’t something he likes, only because of how it seems to bore him. When you tell him about the heroes and villains you read about, he often has a bit of critique for them both. Especially if there’s some swordplay to be involved. You wouldn’t have pegged him for being well versed in that sort of thing, granted he seemed like a gentler soul when you got to know him… however, it rather suits him doesn’t it?
You only wonder why a boy so young would ever need to learn to fight…
Still, when he tells you about how he would’ve bested the antagonists of your tales, you’re there to provide why that wouldn’t work or to inform him of an ability he had forgotten that the villain had. Time manipulation, beams of light, and fire balls.
“How would you stop that, Vergil?”
“I’ll become stronger, strong enough to beat that and more..!”, would he keep true to those words?
: ̗̀➛ If you were to get sick or something were to ever come up that prevented you from going to the library to meet him, he’d try to assume his usual spot where you and him would read… but then he’d find himself waiting for you to appear. In spite of himself, Vergil would get up, unable to focus and start to search for you himself. On the next day when you return, he’d sound a little irritated, if only because it was unexpected and he’d been expecting you to be there with him. You’re touched that he missed you, that you could be missed by him. It’s funny to think that when you two first met each other you weren’t getting along too well. But now you’ve become a part of his life, someone to go away to when he’s through with playing with his little brother and honing his skills with the sword. If only he’d know how much he’d come to miss you later on in his life.
The effect you have on him is becoming abundantly clear to Eva and Dante. Who’s this person that his brother steals away to when they aren’t playing together? Who’s this little friend he’s made?
The Quiet Walk from The Library, and the Squabble that Followed.
In which little Vergil and the Reader walk home from the library, both with troubles brewing as the plot thickens. Dante appears too, much to Vergil's chagrin. Here comes the sequel, thank you anon and my dearest friend Greed for requesting for part two!
Enjoy.
What the two of you read weren’t too far apart from what he liked, and admittedly it felt good to find common ground with someone for once. There wasn’t ever a need to compete or to strive to prove himself or anything of that sort when it came to meeting you in the library. He could fall into a comfortable silence, reading Blake as he liked, but a part of him couldn’t help but to look for it. Vergil was anticipating for you to say something, be it an inquiry or something other, perhaps you recognized the title in his hands. What he couldn’t have anticipated is how he had become increasingly observant of you, stealing glances from the corners of his eyes to see you were ignoring him.
Of course you were, you were reading, and he was reading too— but while watching you read from when he would finish his stanza, he noted just how peaceful you looked. Your lashes would curtain your eyes, and one hand would support the stray locks of hair that seemed to frame your face perfectly, like text wrapping around a space in a page. He liked the way your brows would furrow slightly in thought as you read, and you, so engrossed in what you were reading and wouldn’t notice until you finally stopped to check the time. Mother was preparing supper and you didn’t want to be late for it, lest you get another earful from your father. When your gaze flicked up from the worn pages, Vergil would still, but he wasn’t afraid that he was caught.
His sky blue eyes would remain affixed to your own, not wanting to look away. It was you who were perplexed, figuring that there must be something on your face or maybe he just wanted your attention, but far be it beyond a stupid little boy to tell you what it was.
“… I have to go”, you’d tell him, and like a cat he’d just keep his stare. It’s unnerving, but, something you’ve steadily accepted as your norm now that you’ve made this place a home away from home. The both of you did, drawn to the high shelves in search of sanctuary.
But you’d be leaving… not just for the day, but taken elsewhere. You had to move to a coastal city far beyond Redgrave, and you still hadn’t told him yet. You’ve been meaning to, but every time you do it makes you wistful. As silly as it was, to care so much about a boy you had only but recently met. And still, he had become someone you’d start to look forward to seeing on your daily departures to this dusty place. Vergil would lie if he said he wouldn’t miss you, or if he cared, he didn’t know that he could with such emphasis.
“Will you be back tomorrow?”, he’d ask, finally glancing down at his own pages, glowering almost as if he too had missed something sitting on the tip of his tongue. There was something he wanted to tell you, to ask, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Or if you’d agree to what he had in mind.
“Maybe”, you always teased. You’d always say that, and then you’d always return. It was one of the few constants he could rely upon, that you’d be there to greet him with that half smile of yours that made him churn. For all that he read, he was sure he would’ve identified it by now with his extensive reading. Whenever father returned from his trip, he would be sure to ask him. He always seemed to know just what to do.
Before he knew it though, you were rising, beginning to walk away. Just as you always did when you told him you had to go, stealing away to your home. Vergil rose just as quickly, if not faster, meeting your side instead of stealing your spot to absorb the warmth of your seat. You gave him a look as he closed his book, holding it just under his arm. What was he expecting from you now, as he bore into you with those pretty eyes. Was he going to—
“I want to walk with you. Let me come with”, he had spoken bluntly.
Simple, and spoken without any princely prose as you’d hope to have heard fall from his lips. You were expecting something more… akin to your stories, something rightfully him even if plucked from your fantasies of grandeur with knights and villains alike. Fantasies remain in the imaginations of those that don’t wake from their dreams, and here you’ve been given the breath of reality. Another step taken, another pace earned. You manage to pinch your lips shut for just a moment, biting back the smile that wishes to stretch in earnest across your face. In spite of your best efforts it wins.
You cannot bother to school your expression, because it makes you happiest to spend time with him. You’ve begun to understand this after getting over the little scuffle that brought you two together, as much as you tried to deny this too.
“I suppose I could let you… don’t fall behind then”, and as you try to say it with some form of indifference, you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the way he seems to brighten at your acceptance.
As if fearing rejection.
You bid your farewells to the old librarian, trying to ignore the way he chuckles softly as the two of you stroll out the large double doors. The sun has begun to set, and the sky is a warm golden hue. The light is crepuscular as it shines through the clouds, passing through their opaque forms with the likeness of an oil painting. A gust of wind blows through your hair as you brave the road ahead, with little prince Vergil behind you. You turn around to see him just staring again, and he too is in agreement that the sight before him is beautiful too.
“This way”, you gesture, and the two of you walk down the cobbled path. You can hear him jog after you, never lingering as the two of you cross through an alleyway. You’re a little taller than he is, your legs making longer strides as he increases his pace just to catch up. Looking over your shoulder, you can see him struggling some… and you can’t help but to pause. It’d be a pain if he were to get lost or unable to keep up, and you’d feel bad if he were caught out here by himself.
“What..?”, he says as you regard him. Vergil tries to stand up taller, tilting his head up to look at you. It crosses his mind that he might be slowing you down, but he doesn’t mean to, he doesn't want to be. Your hand reaches out for his, and he lets you take it, holding onto this little piece of him as you resume your walk.
“I forget how short you actually are”, you reply nonchalantly, still holding onto that smile from before, “So I’ll hold your hand… Just so you don’t get lost or anything, okay?”
”You don’t need to do that, I wouldn’t get lost”, he huffs, but he isn’t pulling away from you.
Your hand is soft, not marred by callouses like his are from sword fighting with his brother, Dante. His thumb brushes over yours as he feels the back of your hand with the pad of his finger. And there it goes again, that weird feeling in his gut, something that begets happiness. The two of you continue your stroll back to your home, just a ways away on the opposite side of town. It was on the opposite side of his own home, he noted, but you two lived a ways away from everyone else it’d seem.
Vergil’s hand is cold in yours as you lead him, carefully taking the streets and roads that are the least busy. Even outside of the library, he noted how careful you were, hiding even when you didn’t need to be. Your meekness was something he could not yet understand. With the other people passing along, you made sure to keep out of their way if there were any there. When there would be people that dared to walk too close to the two of you, Vergil would issue them a very sharp glare, threatening to growl as they steered themselves clear. Though as small as he was, he had no trouble playing the role of guard dog for you.
If only ever for you. He didn’t need to defend other people as often as he felt the need to defend himself, and even then…
“Sorry that I took you so far, you probably don’t even live anywhere near here, huh?”, you’d asked, “It’s getting dark and I don’t want you to go back out there alone”
Vergil, who had not even been paying attention to the approaching destination, had only blinked at you then. It has? But the sky was golden, there was still so much time, so he had thought. He didn’t want to have to go just yet. That much was apparent by the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled into a tiny frown. You’d regard him again, not wanting him to go back home either, what if something happened to him? Your heart ached at the thought alone, and you were about to tell him to wait a moment before you saw someone else draw near.
“Vergil! There you are! What the heck are you doing all the way out here..? Who’s that?”, spoke the little boy, who could’ve been his clone truly.
He had the same silver hair, sitting on a mop on his head instead of being slicked back. For a first time, you’d see your library partner startle, eyes widening as he whipped around with a scowl already adorning his face. It didn’t take very long for you to register this kid as his twin, but Vergil made no mention of him to you.
“Dante! What are you doing here?! Did you follow me?”, he hissed.
”Mom told me to go get you for dinner, but instead of going back you went away from the library! You’re gonna be in so much trouble~”, he teased his brother.
“Um…”, you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say or what to do. You had to go in, but at least there was someone here to walk Vergil home. That way he’d be safe, knowing his brother was looking out for him too.
“I’ll see you tomorrow..!”, he called over his shoulder as his brother began to drag him away. You watched, holding your hands together as you watched him get smaller and smaller on the horizon. You’d definitely poke at him about that tomorrow when you’d see him.
. . . . . ╰──╮
He couldn’t help but to give his brother a good shove when he was a way’s away from your home, and he would’ve been in slightly better spirits if his brother hadn’t been there to ruin the discovery as he tended to ruin many things for him. It’s so hard to believe that this is his brother, his twin brother, the ‘other half of his soul’ or something like that. Father put it that way, and so he had come to accept it as truth, but this was truly galling. Dante wouldn’t stop with his teasing and his poking and prodding and it drove him up the wall. His favorite secret had been revealed, and just as when he had anything bestowed upon him, his brother would have to come and have his share of it too.
Sharing was caring, so he’d been told, but can’t he have something to himself? Something that wouldn’t be taken away just because Dante had wanted it too? He felt his hackles rise as his brother shoved him back, undeterred as he always was.
“What do you two even do at the library anyway? Seems too dark and dreary to have any real fun, like when we sword fight!”, he piped up, moving back to his side.
“Well you wouldn’t get it anyway”, he huffed, folding his arms, “just leave it be, okay?”, he groaned as he rolled his eyes at his doddering brother. So annoying.
But for all his jesting and jokes, Dante could see that Vergil was happy, and if his brother was happy then so would he be. He was only saddened of course, by the fact that he wouldn’t be able to play with him as much as he used to now that he would always be at the library. He’d just have to go there too then, to catch the two of them there together so that they could all hangout. That way, he wouldn’t be alone at the manor by his lonesome. Dante jogged up to meet his brother as he had taken to walking ahead again, following the path you had shown him, his hand still warmed from where you had been holding it.
Eventually when they did return, Dante was right when their mother had begun telling him off for being so late to come home, worried that something had happened to him. As if there would be anything that could harm a son of Sparda, it’s not like he was some helpless little kid. He was the heir to the legendary dark knight, and one day he’d hope to don the shining armor that he’d seen his father wear. Perhaps he’d start training right after dinner though, he couldn’t help but to wince at his mother’s shrill voice as she lectured him about being safe and cautious. Just as any mother would be for her child. It’s not like Vergil could know, of the enemies his father has made or of the lengths they’d be willing to go through in order to hurt him.
The three of them sat altogether, eating the stew that their mom had made, Dante scarfing his food down as per usual while Vergil took his time. He looked off to the side, to the courtyard through the kitchen window where he could see their training dummies in the dark. As his belly grew full with supper, thoughts of swordplay dwindled as he pictured tomorrow and how he’d get to spend it with his friend in the quiet part of the library. He’d see you, and he’d get to spend his days reading, hoping that his brother wouldn’t follow him and ruin it for him. He’d show you just how fun he could be, more so than his brother– but why did that even matter to him now? He couldn’t bare the thought of you finding him more fun than he was.
In his bed, he turned on his side, staring at the ceiling as Dante laid in the bed opposite to him. His brother hadn’t fallen asleep just yet either, even when he was the first to fall after dinner. Vergil furrowed his brow as he glanced over to him on the bed, sensing his stare through the dark, his in-twin-tion having gone off.
“What is it, Dante?”, he asked, none too pleased to be stared at without a word. Funny how that is.
“Tomorrow, can I come with you to the library too?”, he asked.
“Absolutely not”, Vergil shot back, “That’s my special place, and I won’t have you there to make a mess of things”
“I won’t make a mess..!”, he whined.
“You will”
“I won’t!”
“You will”
“But I wanna hangout with you too, and your friend..! We never hangout anymore! It’s like you like hanging out over there more than you like hanging out with me…”, and… he would’ve argued back that he was being a pain, but hearing the hurt in his voice gave him pause.
“... that’s not… true. I like hanging out with you too”, as much as he would voice his protests, he couldn’t deny the excitement of being so thoroughly tried by his brother. But, he could always play with him, he could do that whenever he wanted. But he didn’t know that you were running out of time.
(I'm SO nervous writing this request, because English is not my native language and I'm writing through a translator, and this is my first request. If I wrote something wrong, explained it poorly, I apologize in advance and ask you to just ignore it, I'm just really stupid)
Recently, my friend and I were playing "What if" and came up with "What if Virgil had TWO kids" and this thought literally stuck with me. Extra points if the reader looks eerily like Virgil. What about the headcanons with dmc boys (Vergil, Dante, V and Nero?) about this, like, Dante just walks into the office holding the reader(gn) by the scruff of the neck and he doesn't even have to say anything, it's literally a clone of his brother.
THIS WAS SO CUTE, how could I not write this? And please, you're fine!! I think I'll turn this into a little mini series or a one-shot later, but no promises! The first draft was certainly setting it up to be that though.
Vergil
There was no other woman that he 'coupled' with. The lady in red, back in Fortuna was the only lover he had ever taken on, and to his knowledge Nero was his only child having been born from that love. To see you standing before him now... you, who looks so much like how he did way back then... it unnerves him. It's the first instance where he's ever been so deeply unnerved in a long while. A clone, you had to be a clone. It wouldn't be the first time that Mundus has done something like this. The next time he goes to hell, he'd be sure to kill him once and for all. He wasn't ever content on letting the Prince of Darkness continue living after all that he has put him and his family through.
He thinks you're a spy, that your purpose here is malicious. But how can that be when you look so captivated by him? As if glimpsing into a mirror and seeing an aged reflection. This all must be so strange to you too, when nothing is so certain in your life. Fine. He can accept this. He can will himself too, because now he has a chance to correct your path before you're made to walk his again. He wouldn't want that for you, especially when he can be present for you where he failed to be present for Nero.
This too, pains him, and he knows that it will be awkward for all of you. Regardless, he has to face it, even if he doesn't know how. Seeing him instills a great dread within you; the power, the expectations, all of it feels overwhelming. How are you going to live up to that? Whenever you stand in his presence, you try to make yourself appear larger, more mature than your years let on. Your demonic nature imposes this upon you, much to his chagrin. It gnaws upon him, because, he was like this too.
He wanted to prove himself to his mother that he could be strong, that he could be mature. When he looks at you, he often finds himself ruminating about those times. You can feel it, and the sadness worries you. Why does he look at you like that? It almost feels like he doesn't accept you. You don't want that, so you try your hardest to be the epitome of what your creator spoke of him. That image has long been burned into your mind since then, and now it is all you strive for.
When you raise your training sword to him, he comes. When you trade blows, he is there, and when he feels your might against his... finally does he allow himself to smile. You're so much like him. Like the child that was lost on that very day. It's without a doubt now, cemented into his soul, regardless of what or who you are... you're his child. If anything tried to take you away from him, he would kill them.
V
He's seen you before, only, you weren't you then. After mingling his vines with Urizen, he had glimpsed the other you then. Or rather, Vergil. When he was blemished by tragedy, renewed by rejoining with the better half of himself-- that was the last he saw of... you. But now, he was back, and here he was... eye to eye with the child of that demon again. You're just as you were when he had first glimpsed that memory, still small with wide eyes boring into his own. You didn't get on too well with any of the others aside from Trish, and similarly he had expected to be met with some resistance from you too. But that never came.
Instead, you shuffled forward, with your arms outstretched to find purchase on one of his legs. A hug. You were hugging him... were Griffon to see it, he'd be laughing. He missed them, strangely, even if they were only ever nightmares. Here, he had a waking dream. His last encounter with a child hadn't gone too well, funny enough. From what he could recall, he'd berated the poor thing, for crying out as he did. As if he hadn't done the same thing when it had been him there, outside of the house as it all burned down. He rests a thin hand on your head as you hug him.
He doesn't know how to be comforting, only how to seek it out in others. But you make him want to change, to be different. Eventually he kneels to be at your level, hugging you properly as your arms snare around his shoulders. You were fond of Trish for obvious reasons, but V had a certain softness about him to you. Almost as if he was your mom, your real mom. Of course, you didn't have one, and it didn't matter to you at the time... but the thought of leaving his side hurts. If you're to go anywhere, you wanted him to follow.
You would drag him by the hand if you had to, and V was like to let the current take him. A part of him found it entertaining, and that maybe that was all you were to him. He would entertain you until you weren't amusing anymore. That's what he planned on doing, but watching you get sad at his silhouette burned him. It was such an unfamiliar thing that he paused to look back. Why did you look so sad? He was only temporary, fated to leave this world again whenever time had deemed it necessary.
You were infinitely stronger than he was, and you had everyone else too to guard and guide you. What made him so special? What made him so unique aside from his weakness? So determined to figure it out, he had remained, seated as you climbed into his lap and pulled at the rings and jewelry on his fingers. Simple. You thought of him as parent, as a guardian already. Even with all your strength and might yet to be had, you wouldn't ever stop needing that. You wouldn't ever stop needing him now that you had him in your life.
"I'll protect you too", you had told him. "You'll be safe with me", such a little voice sounding so sure... for the first time, would he mourn himself when he'd be lost. He wondered how long it would take for you to figure that out.
Nero
How the hell is he supposed to feel about you? You were a tiny version of the father he just found out he had. "Why wasn't I, or my mother enough...", he starts to think to himself, but those thoughts are squashed when he's informed that you weren't born from another affair or something like that.
Upon approaching you for the first time, he was hesitant, but he was your brother, as Kyrie had insisted that he at least give you a chance. The devil in you thought of him as a lesser because of how little his blood resembled yours or even your father's. On all accounts, you were going to brush him off, to ignore him if it weren't the sliver of Sparda coursing through his veins. If it weren't for that you wouldn't even consider him a worthy rival, but even with just a quarter of his power, he was remarkably strong.
Your uncle had told you that much, recounting their fight. Naturally, you had to test yourself against him, as much as Nero found it irksome. He'd be working on Red Queen, running maintenance on his sword when he'd feel a sharp strike to the back of one of his knees. It was a struggle trying to look after the three orphans with Kyrie already, but now he had to deal with you and your demonic antics. Great. If it's a fight you wanted, it would be a fight you'd get. But even as prideful as you were, you were a kid-- his little sibling. Despite himself, he held back, knowing that if he really went all out you'd get seriously hurt.
Yet, in not going all out, he made you cry regardless: all because he wasn't taking you seriously. You didn't need to be pitied, especially if you wanted to grow as a devil and get stronger for your family's sake. If you couldn't beat Nero, then what hopes did you have in defeating a threat that could wipe out your family? He could relate, having the same thoughts when his dad ripped his arm off, worried for Kyrie's sake and the kids. Through your little tantrums, he'd kneel to be at your eye level before patting you on the head.
"You put up a good effort at least, that's somethin' to be proud of", he'd say, which wasn't entirely false.
Still, even after you calmed down some, you wouldn't easily forgive his slights. Luckily, Kyrie could with her cooking. Nero couldn't help but feel a little envious of his girlfriend for being able to pacify you where he couldn't. Even when you seemed to dislike humans, as you've made it abundantly clear to him with each bout(much to Lady's disdain.) But as time goes on, he's slowly beginning to accept you as family. Sure, you're still irritating to him at times, but it's nothing a little bit of air jail can't fix, a trick he learned with Julio when he'd have his fits here and there.
As humiliating as it is, it does work. Instead of being treated as a demon spawn, him and his partner treat you as if you're one of their human children. The lack of violence and discipline worries you on account of not wanting to go soft while you're in the human world. On the other hand, it is comforting. To know that you are loved and safe with them puts a weird weight on your chest, and at times you look back on how you treated Nero in the past. When you try to do something nice for him, you go to Kyrie for help, since you're sure that he'd freak out if you brought him a dead demon or some other game(unlike Nico.) When he notices, you have to withhold from delivering a punch to his gut when he starts to dote on you.
Dante
Trish had found you, thinking it would be best if he would be the one to deal with you. At least while Vergil and Nero were both busy, and when she needed a break after he had declined doing so the first time around. It was harrowing to say the least, when you had appeared in his office, looking like the spitting image of the brother he had lost all those years ago. How did he do it this time? He had thought glumly, as he tried to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. Down to the last detail, it was like Vergil had been ripped straight out of his memories. That sick bastard Mundus, why couldn't he go bother another family? Quite frankly, he was tired of having to deal with that guy and his shenanigans. Maybe the ass beating on Mallet Island wasn't enough...
You could not help but to look up at him with due apprehension. This was Dante after all, successor to Sparda, and the one you were supposed to be keeping tabs on as per your orders. One part of you doesn't want anything to do with him, and another doesn't want to be too far away from him either. Even with the possibility that you could be a threat, Dante knows that he can't bring himself to strike you down. It's low brow, and it pisses him off even more that Mundus would think to do something like this. Gilver was enough of a scare, but here you are. He wishes you'd go away, he doesn't have to say it out loud for you to get the idea.
"You aren't going to fight me?", you had asked innocently, holding a little sword at your side. Oh... how it made his stomach churn. It's a feeling he's not acquainted to. Was it guilt? Grief? It was definitely agonizing...
"No, kid. I'm not gonna fight ya", he answered with a grin as he laid his heavy hand on your head. He ruffles your hair, pushing through the nausea as he chuckles dryly. Who could blame him? Another copy of his brother sent to mess with him after all this time, without knowing what you're here for or what you're capable of he can't help but to stay on edge.
That's why he has Trish take care of you, because you seem to like her as much as Vergil did back then. You aren't acting like a little terror, not that you'd dare to, so what? What's going to happen next, what comes next? When your purpose rears its ugly head, he knows it's going to have to be him to put a stop to you. Whether he likes it or not, whether he wants to or not. Lady can tell that it eats at him the more you try to get closer to him. You follow him around sometimes, wanting to spar or to play. It's what he would've wanted Vergil to ask him to do as kids, he should be happy that he gets to finally play with him now but you're not him.
He snaps one evening, telling you to go, to leave him alone before things get ugly. Lady interjects, that he was out of line, and Trish is there to hold you when you finally stop chasing after him. When the tears fall and you turn to her, he realizes that he shouldn't have done that. He didn't mean to, but if he isn't ready to go to you to comfort you right now. He'll make it up to you, but for the time being, it's best if you just stay with the girls.
BONUS
Sparda
How dare he, to create a crude re-imagining of his beloved child that he had then tortured for YEARS. Why, if he had the power to fly back down and to wring his neck himself... but alas, that wasn't possible anymore. It was oddly paralyzing having to look up at your creator's arch nemesis. His warden, essentially. You expected to be met with the end of his blade, to be demolished and scattered on the wind, but instead he crouched down to your level and searched your eyes. You were a devil, but even if you were possessed with the intent of causing harm upon him or anyone here, you would not be strong enough to do it. The legendary dark knight of eld chuckled softly before he reached up to pat your head and declare to the others that there was no need for concern. You, ever the devil, tried to correct his folly.
Not wanting to be undermined, you went to strike Sparda, he commended you on your audacious spirit(as misguided as it was.) The old man evaded your attack, and then evaded your follow up, only to adjust your arm. Your form was lacking, and it was simply adorable watching the way you seemed to get even more cross with him when you realized he didn't even see you as a threat. It was just as it was when you were in Hell. Mundus' remaining forces saw you as little more than disposable fodder, that you resembled Sparda's kin put you at a disadvantage already. Eventually you gave up trying to fight him directly, opting to catch him off guard in some other way.
The traps you set up kept him on his toes, and he feigned to get trapped in one just once to humor you. When he fell to the floor, playing dead, you ran over with the cutest smile on your face. Absolutely beaming before he caught you in a hug, laughing as he began to tickle your sides. Never having been tickled before, you assumed you were being subjected to a human torture method, and began screaming hysterically. After the first few screams left your lips, and attracted the attention of both Vergil and Dante running to the scene of the crime, they couldn't help but to sigh with relief when they saw it was just their dad and you goofing around.
"I thought you were being attacked for a moment... what is the meaning of this?", Vergil demanded.
"Good grief pops... had us going there for a second", Dante sighed as he watched Sparda lifting you into the air.
"Ohh I couldn't help it, I didn't mean to worry you boys!", he replied gleefully as he spun you around before settling you back on your feet.
You could not look anymore pissed off. The sight of your pout made Dante laugh before you went to go hide behind his brother's coat. If mom were here, no doubt you'd be telling on him to her. After a moment, Sparda's bending down to try and talk to you behind Vergil's back.
"I apologize, my dear... I didn't mean to upset you! But did you really think that that would do me in?", he can't help but to tease you.
"You'll rue this day, Sparda. I swear it!", you glowered as you turned your head away from him. It pulls a guffaw from him before he rises.
"Aww, don't be that way! What if I got you some ice cream? Have you had ice cream before?"
"If you're treating the kid, I want a strawberry sundae", Dante chimed in.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Heyo- the power went out at my place after a storm. it got me thinking- what would the dmc boys do during a power outage with their s/o? Thank you (:
This is such a sweet and funny idea, thank you for sending the request and I'm sorry that I'm only just NOW getting to it. I'm going to include Credo because I love him.
Black Clouds Provoke Isolation.
The DMC boys during a power outage with their S/O.
Dante
He is accustomed to not having the power work at the Devil May Cry, but he understands that it's probably not something his S/O would be all that acquainted with. First he'll look up and curse quietly to himself, clicking his tongue and turning his head away as he sits in the darkness. As soon as his S/O comes in and starts to worry about it, he's there to calm them down and tell them that it's not a big deal and that this sort of thing happens all the time. Much to their dismay, Dante... power is important, without power the fridge can't keep the pizza and beers cold. His motivation arises at the risk of these important assets being lost.
If his S/O is afraid of the dark or has an issue with it, he'll drape himself over them like a blanket.
"Alright lets get you to the couch", and then he guides(drags) them to the couch to hunker down until the power comes back on.
Dante would poke fun of them for that, if it weren't for his own apprehension to wandering around in the dark. He gets it, since a lot of bad things tend to happen to him in the dark. That's probably what's going on in the mind of his S/O so the least he can do is be there and comforting for them where he didn't have anyone to comfort himself during those times.
"Hey... it'll be okay, we've been through worse before haven't we?", he'll say in a melancholic sort of way.
When the lights do eventually come back on, he has this big smile on his face and looks down to his S/O. He'd chuckle and give them a quick nudge.
"It came back on! See? What'd I tell you?", and after making sure that his partner's alright, he's going off to check if the pizza and beers are still good. A little celebratory snack wouldn't hurt, and he's thinking that a bit of pizza and a cold drink might cheer them up.
Vergil
Like his brother, he doesn't quite care for the dark when the power goes out, but that's because he's grown used to a lack of light in his life. The darkness is something he's come to embrace, something he can move freely through and about without concern. Of course, this changes somewhat with his S/O by his side. He moves to find them first throughout the power outage, making sure that they're alright. However, he's a bit lost as to what to do in this situation since it's never happened to him enough times before where he's become familiar with what course of action to take. He's spent more time in Hell than in the human world, and will rely on his S/O to take charge, which is something he dislikes.
Vergil would ask them if there's anything that he can do to help, like light some candles or check on the appliances or anything like that. He'd also grow a bit frustrated with them when they don't turn on when he tries to use them or if there isn't anything else he can do to try and help. The Darkslayer tries not to pout and fold his arms in the corner as everything else essentially gets handled for him or by someone else. However, he isn't totally useless here. If there is something he can do, it is also to provide comfort for his S/O in the case that they're not as fond of the dark as he is.
If this gets in the way of them trying to take action, he'll guide them through the house and ask them what they need. Once everything is squared away, his focus is directed onto his partner. What do they need right now? What can he provide for them? Comforting others may not be his strong suit, but he will everything he can for their sake. If this is just holding onto them and pressing their head into his shoulder, he will do it. He won't admit it, but he's glad that their able to vulnerable with him, allowing him to be the rock that they can lean on in their time of need. Besides, he quite enjoys these small moments of reprieve and being close to his S/O.
V
The first one to start is Griffon, commenting about how the lights have gone off and how it's suddenly gotten a bit colder. V acknowledges this from his familiar and starts to get up from his spot on the couch to go and locate his S/O to inform them of the problem if they weren't previously aware already. If they're already getting to it, he's sitting back and watching them, admiring the way that they're handling the situation. He'll leave them after a moment to go and find if he can do something to assist them, such as bringing them a flashlight or even a few candles to light around the house so that things are easier to see. He's not all too bothered by a lack of power, tolerant at best, but he does get cold after idling for a while.
When all that can be done is done, he's curled up on the couch with a spot made available for his partner. V waits for them to come and join him, as he'd like for them to share their warmth with him. Sitting together, he'll start to read from his book of poems as Shadow drapes herself across the two of them. It is a perfect way to relax during an event that they don't have much control over, especially if he notices that his S/O is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of power. V would be too, if it weren't for having his partner at his side.
The comfort of not being alone through this gives him the strength he needs to get through it, and he hopes that he can shed that same strength to his S/O. Griffon complains about the mushy romantic spiel that V sings, flocking off to go and check if the power's back on. While the mouthy bird is out of the picture, he returns his attention to being assuring that all will be okay, as it is not the end... yet. Of course, it's within his nature to be a little teasing to them, and he enjoys watching the way they react to his words. When the power does return, he won't be releasing them from his grasp any time soon. V quite likes snuggling with his S/O and he'd like to be with them for a little longer before they eventually do get up to leave.
Nero
He's a little irritated when the power goes out, and ends up cursing the storm for the lack of lights in the house. Nero looks to his S/O and asks if they're okay before he even starts to do anything else, making sure they're all good first and then going to start the backup generator. At the least, he's got a backup plan, thanks to Nico for providing him with a spare(at a 'good' price.)
"Come on you bastard", he's mouthing off to the generator as he yanks the cord to bring it to life.
Nero returns to his partner as soon as that's been squared away, and takes their hand in his to go and grab the flashlights and other lights and what not. He looks around to see if there's anything that he might've forgotten about or if there's anything that his S/O hasn't done. He likes to be on top of things, even having a little plan that Kyrie made to go over until the power comes back on. It isn't the end of the world, but he hates sitting still for too long, even if all that's left to do is to wait. He'd have called Kyrie too by then, asking if the boys are doing okay while he's here with his S/O.
If his S/O happens to be anxious without the power, Nero probably won't be of much help. He's a better listener than he is the guy to go to for advice, awkwardly standing around while Kyrie would cry about something that happened to her or that she was going through. He's gotten better over the years though. He'll take his partner to the couch and make sure they're nice and cozy, offering them an earbud to take and listen to some music while he sits with them, waiting for the storm to pass and eventually for the power to return. He's attentive, and tries, and that's all that anyone can ever really ask for.
When the power does come back, he's cracking a smile, and even hits them with something witty and sarcastic.
"Was that so bad? You did just fine"
And they did! And he presses a little kiss to their forehead.
Credo
He had expected such to happen when he caught the forecast on the news just a few days prior. He suspected that something like the power going out would happen, and so he's pleasantly pleased with himself when he managed to be correct in his assessment.
"Not to worry, I've got this", Credo assures his S/O as he moves with a calmness to gather the things that he has prepared in case such an emergency were to arise. There are bottled waters, flashlights, and the like.
One could even say that Credo's a little too prepared. He makes his calls to Kyrie and Nero, making sure that they're alright and have everything just as he had instructed Kyrie. While with his S/O, he's going over what the plan is and etc. The one-winged devil is a little impatient with things, pacing around the house as he waits for the power to return, and checks in with his partner to make sure that they're okay too. It might take their own assurance that things are okay to calm him down from his restlessness.
Credo isn't usually one to have his feathers ruffled, but there are times where even he loses his cool, like when the Order used his sister to further their own goals. It was absolutely unacceptable, and he'd hope that her, Nero, and the boys were doing just as fine as him and his S/O were. If his S/O were to become anxious during the predicament at any point, he'd stop his own fretting for a moment to address theirs. He'd apologize if he had any part to take in causing it, and promptly pull them into a hug, after asking if it were okay to hug them. His formalities could be found endearing, even after all this time, and they do end up calming his partner down. The distraction is more than appreciated as he tries to figure out what to talk about.
Although one may find that he's not so good with small talk, and curses himself for not being better at it for their sake.
Sparda
The dark knight doesn't see a power outage as a problem, even finding it a bit trivial that the lights went out all because of a silly little storm? He alerts you rather loudly that there isn't any power.
"Dear!! The lights have gone out! Is everything alright?"
Funny how he could create the contraptions necessary to power the Temen-Ni-Gru, but simple electricity puzzles him. Ah, oh well. He could easily provide a bit of light with a bit of magic. He was quite good at that, and he does well to emulate a bit of light for him and his S/O to walk around the house if he wasn't too busy with reading or doing anything else the moment the power went out. His main priority is his partner and after seeking them out, he's making sure that they're alright and taken care of. Upon finding them, he'll snake his arms around their trunk before pulling them close to himself.
"That didn't scare you did it?", he'd ask as he smirks into the back of their head, pressing a kiss to their hair as he takes a gander at the state of their abode.
He's off to check on other things if his beloved is fine and dandy. With a bit of his devil's magic he'd even start on preparing them some tea to enjoy until the power comes back on. Sparda does enjoy using his talents every now and then, showing off his power in these small displays to charm his S/O further even though he's already secured them. It's something that he can't help. He does get a bit more serious if his partner happens to be a bit disturbed by the lack of power. It's almost like a 180, where his lightheartedness is replaced by being more levelheaded and attuned to every little thing from his partner. The pupils of his eyes narrow as he kneels before them, surrendering himself to them as he takes their hands into his own.
"Darling, if there is anything that I can do, you just need to say the word", he says in a sultry tone. He'll bring their hands to his lips as he thumbs over the back of them.
Right as the they are about to descend off that cliff, thrown off that ledge, you are there. Your arm hauls them up with a certain strength to them, the sinews in your arms flexing. At that moment, they're unable to say a word, too busy taking in the sight of you as you utter your witty line or carry on as if it weren't an issue-- effortless.
Saving the Spardas asses when they don't expect you to. ft. GN! Reader
Dante
He's fallen off of cliffs and such before, whether it was due to a missed jump or simply because he's gotten knocked out of the air. Dante tries to not make a habit out of it, but it's not like he's doing it intentionally. The legendary devil hunter just happens to be a bit less patient than his brother, even after all these years. There's just some things that don't change, like his eagerness to fight demons, even if it scares him. He isn't mortal, he won't die if he's shot or stabbed, there isn't much that could kill him-- like falling and hitting his head. It'd just hurt if anything, but maybe that's something that you didn't know.
Or at least cared for.
A hit from the devil he was fighting has him thrown back with a grunt, the sound is distinct on your ears as you whip around to see his crimson jacket flail in the wind along with him in it. You make another slash at the devils coming after you to go and chase his flying figure. Dante doesn't see you, as he looks up to the sky, thinking about how he's gonna nail the demon good for that one. As he's cast over the edge, you slide on over, an arm extended and catching his ankle as he descends. The sudden grab has him out of his daydream and curling up to look at... you!
You were a couple of yards away, how did you get here so fast? He could only watch as you used your other hand to start pulling him up by the leg as you swung him up back to the edge where you were. You almost fell in your self as you groan.
"Next time you take a swan dive, do it at the pool, yeah?", you huff, patting his leg as he got to his feet.
"Only if you're watchin' me, babe", he winked as he reached for Ebony & Ivory.
You could've slapped him, you really could've. Dante only chuckles at the way you frown for a moment before you go back to fighting, rolling your shoulders as you go. It's pretty hot, he thinks. The half-demon's glad he's got someone as strong as you are on his side, something that comforts him really, knowing that you've got his back.
Vergil
Falling doesn't scare him, he's done it before, but it's where he'll end up that tends to make him feel something other than adrenaline when facing his enemies. The first time he descended, it cost him his freedom, the last time he went to hell with his brother. Now it felt like a slight, a mistake made and he doesn't quite like those. The devils he was fighting now on behalf of joining Dante's little business were putting on a fight for once, with one of them even managing to knock him back a good distance. He had misjudged that and felt himself lose his footing on solid ground.
You'd seen him tip over the edge and in an instant you were rushing to his side, not that you were too far. With your devil arm, you dug into the side of the ledge and anchored yourself as you grabbed his arm. He had only stared in awe, shock that quickly subsided as he glowered. He was not one who needed saving, quite the opposite, even as you threw him over the edge to resume the fight.
Such raw strength... in a mortal, none the less. It was... curious. Where did such power come from, he had to wonder after he had dealt with your foes with a few judgement cuts. You managed to pull yourself up, rolling over onto your back with a long sigh.
"Thank you for that, though it was unnecessary", he had commented, looking at your prone state.
"You're welcome, you oughta watch your step next time", you joke as he offers a hand to help you to your feet this time.
"It will not happen again, I assure you", he says it with such a straight face, but you can tell that he's the slightest bit embarrassed.
Nero
You had just finished combing through your share of enemies, flicking your weapon to the side to clear it of blood as you look off into the distance. Nero was holding up well with Red Queen, revving her engine and ripping and tearing into the devils seamlessly. You could often admire how fluid he could be, like a duck bobbing and weaving through water. He looked like he didn't need your help, so you'd sit back and watch. Through the demons that surrounded him, he could feel your eyes on his back.
Nero would be lying if he didn't enjoy it when you were watching him, because in truth he had admired you too. Your skills and finesse were so badass and he hoped that maybe you thought of him like that too instead of how his uncle and father had seen him. Sure it wasn't too serious when he'd been called 'dead weight' but... it stuck with him. He wanted to prove that he could stand on his own two feet without needing their help, or yours for that matter. Ironic given his current circumstance. Nero had taken his eyes off of his opponent at hand to spare you a glance, spotting the fondness in your eyes and feeling a bit of color come to his face.
"Woah!", he'd been shoved, having nearly dropped his sword to steady himself, reaching a hand behind him to push himself back off the ground. Only to find that there was none supporting him.
You jumped in just as quickly as he was about to fall, appearing in front of him and grabbing the front of his shirt just as he was about to fly. You bring him in and step back, as he just looks at you for a second.
"... You do know that I would've been fine right?", he asks instead of saying thanks, a small smirk playing on his face as you stare at him for a second. Air hike... right.
"Would you rather I let you fall?", you're quick to respond as he just scoffs, shaking his head as he resumed where he left off with the devil.
He wasn't expecting you to be there, but he's glad that you care enough to come rushing for him like that. Next time he'll be the one saving you.
Hello! If you're still taking requests, do you think you can write the Sparda guys with a chubby s/o?
I can certainly write this dear Anon.
The More to Love
The Dante, Vergil, & Nero with a chubby S/O.
Dante
He likes to eat a lot, in fact, eating whole pizzas by himself is something that he does regularly, much to everyone else's dislike. He's glad he has someone to try out different things with, like if there's a new pizza combo he can get at his favorite spot, he'll want to share it with them if he doesn't inhale it all himself. He wants them to eat unabashedly just as he does, and will always make sure that they're taken care of. One thing that Dante wouldn't want is for them to hold back out of fear of their weight turning him away when that wouldn't be the case at all. He loves that they're a little husky, leaving more for him to hug and hold when he has the time to between jobs and such. Dante likes the way they squirm in his hands when he massages or pinches their belly or the fat on the sides of their hips. God, it's so cute... he could just eat them up.
The cambion likes to tease and poke their chub when he can, doing it in passing when walking by or trying to get their attention.
"Hey cupcake, whatcha up to? Aww, is somebody mad?", he'll reach up to pinch their cheeks next, chuckling as they pout at him.
He loves to tease, it's just who he is, but if it ever bugs or rubs his honey the wrong way he'll knock it off. Holding his hands up in his defense to go "Alright, alright" in a dismissive tone, even if he does well to not push them any further. If they ever want to lose weight, he'll be a bit sad, but will support his partner however he can.
Vergil
He's not well acquainted with others who are shaped like them, and he doesn't really mind that his S/O is chubby. He just thinks that his partner being softer than what he's used to is intriguing. They're body just has extra nutrients stored within it for later use, if anything that's smart. He isn't a big eater, not like his brother, so when he has a little more on his plate than what he can finish he hands it off to them. He likes watching them eat, and he likes to provide them with the things that they like to eat even more. Watching them light up when he hands them the plate fills his heart with mirth, a certain satisfaction that he didn't think he could feel. He takes it as an opportunity to see what they like and what they dislike, making note of their comfort foods and etc.
He also finds them pleasant to embrace, liking to lay over them and to rest his head on their chest. The added warmth is nice, especially since he tends to run cold. The son of Sparda enjoys to cuddle with his S/O and will pointedly glare at anyone that tries to get him up from his lover's arms. It's even more foolish to try to insult them for their body. If he was hostile while laying with them, he will lash out in his own way against someone that tries to frame their plumpness as being a bad thing. Vergil won't tolerate it, not one bit.
Nero
The devil hunter's favorite thing to do is to hug his S/O from behind, wrapping his arms around their trunk and pulling them towards himself. He likes to feel the way they laugh in his hold and how they move and try to escape his little kisses. He won't admit it, but he likes the way they feel in his grasp. Their pudge is soft against his toned arms from the training to follow in his uncle's footsteps, and he's happy to see them so full of life. Nero might poke fun of his S/O here and there, but it's nothing serious. He'd prefer them to have a little meat on their bones anyhow or not worry about how much they eat. He finds it endearing and a little fun to watch how well they enjoy the foods that Kyrie makes when he visits her or happens to make a pit stop at a restaurant with them.
He's super observant of their diet and makes sure to have a snack or two on hand in case they get hungry or peckish. Nero looks out for his S/O and makes sure that they're healthy and taken care of above all else. If anyone says anything to them, he's the first to step up and get in their face.
"What'd you say to them? Come on, why don't you say that again?", he'd growl. Draping an arm around their shoulder while telling the jackass to flock off if they know what's good for 'em.
He'll be damned if there's anyone who tries to make them feel bad about their size or weight. As someone who also struggled with his own image, he gets it and knows what it's like to be afraid or worry about how others might perceive them. Regardless, Nero assures them that he'll love them no matter what.
