dmcvergillament

[dmcvergillament]

Bedtime Stories [Part 1]

Fem!Reader x Vergil

Summary: Unable to sleep, young Nero requests a bedtime story. You happily oblige and weave a tale that Vergil recognizes. Nero falls asleep to the legend of the dancer and the dragon and Vergil remembers how he fell in love with you.

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Tucking little Nero in for the night, Y/N kisses his forehead. "Sweet dreams, my little angel."

Vergil picks up toys off the floor.

Nero catches Y/N's hand to stop them from leaving. "I...can't sleep without a story."

Vergil looks up from studying a blue bird plush he found. It looked oddly familiar...

Y/N smiles and sits back down on the bed to brush aside Nero's bangs. "Alright. What story shall I tell?"

Nero snuggles up to his chin in his comforter, eyes shimmering with curiosity. He waits for his mother to begin.

"Ah! I know: how about the legend of the dancer and the dragon?" suggests Y/N.

Vergil pauses as he sets the bird down alongside a black cat on a shelf. His interest is also piqued. What fantasy is Y/N spinning now?

"In a land far, far away in a time long, long ago..." begins Y/N, twirling her hands.

'There they go again with that dramatic voice,' thinks Vergil. Still, he cannot deny how his lover never fails to spark wonder in their son's eyes. Only a few words in and she has Nero's full attention.

"...there was a dancer who could mesmerize entire palaces with every step. When they moved it was like watching petals on the breeze. The soft colors of their clothes twirling around their long legs. Stories spread across many kingdoms of not only their unrivaled skill but also that of their bewitching beauty. All that bore witness to their dance were charmed. It was like a magic spell only they could use," continues Y/N.

"Were they as pretty as you, Mama?" mews Nero, tilting his head in that way that always melted Y/N's heart.

Y/N reaches over to stroke their son's ivory hair, before opening her mouth to say---

"What a foolish question." Gliding over to the bed, Vergil sits opposite of Y/N. His eyes flicker to Y/N before he continues, "Do not compare a rose to a field of dandelions."

Nero seems satisfied with this answer.

Y/N gestures for Vergil to not interrupt before she adds, "So one day the dancer gets invited to the royal palace to perform. Afterwards, the King becomes so enthralled, he begs them to stay and marry one of his sons. The dancer politely refuses and leaves. This was not the answer the King had hoped for and so he hired a famous knight to find her and bring her back to the palace."

Rubbing his chin, Vergil wonders, 'Why does this sound oddly...familiar?'

"This knight always wore brilliant, scarlet armor, so the people called him the 'Crimson Knight'. Legends spoke of how he could slay any monster and of the sword he carried upon his back. It was a grand sword said to be enchanted with an ancient magic that allowed it to cut through even dragon hide," explained Y/N, waving her hands like she was trying to make the sword appear.

"He was a dragon slayer?" asks Nero curiously.

"No matter how tall or dangerous the monster may be, he was always victorious. While many claimed to have been witness to such a feat, no one knew for certain if he had slain a dragon. After all, dragons were the most powerful of foes. They were cunning, proud, and equipped with immense magic," answered Y/N.

"Could he beat a dragon?" questions Nero.

"He most certainly believed he could. After all, he was the Crimson Knight: the warrior of all the human kingdoms. Whenever a monster appeared, he was called in to defeat it," replied Y/N with a nod.

"Sounds like someone I know," grumbles Vergil.

"Shhhh."

"But here he was faced with a strange request: to hunt not a beast but a woman. A woman armed with only an aptitude for dancing. This was not a job for the Crimson Knight. The King---afraid he'd decline and she'd slip away---lied. He told the knight that the dancer was harboring a curse set upon her by a demon. That if she was not found and brought back to the palace to be purified, she would die. Now this resonated with the Crimson Knight. How could he let such a beauty wither and wilt from such misfortune? So he set off to find her," continued Y/N.

"How could he lie? She's not really cursed, is she?" asks Nero with a frown.

Vergil interrupts, "People lie because..." He clears his throat. "Sometimes they lie to get what they want."

"She's not really going to die, right?" whispers Nero.

Vergil glances at Y/N. "No, she won't."

Y/N nudges him with an elbow. "Shhh, no spoilers."

"So without even knowing she was being followed, the dancer hopped from town to town to perform. Rarely did she stay for more than a few days in the same area. Her heart was set on adventure and she enjoyed the journey even if it was tedious without a horse or carriage. She felt as free as the birds in the sky. With her spirits soaring, she set out for the neighboring city. However, along the well-trodden path, a man appeared. Whipping his cart into a frenzy, he was approaching fast. Spotting her, he jerked on the reins and nearly fell off the bench. 'Young lady! Young lady!' he gasped. 'Turn back now! Only death and hellfire awaits at the end of this road!' Stunned, the dancer asked him to explain. 'A dragon has appeared! He has built his den inside the ruins of the castle and he strikes down all who disturb him! The people are terrified! Protect yourself and run while you still can!' Then with a crack of the reins, his cart was disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust. The dancer stood there flabbergasted. How can there be a dragon of all things? Were they not creatures of myth? Not believing in the danger, she continued onwards despite the warning."

"No! Don't go! You'll get eaten!" gasps Nero, burrowing deeper into his comforter to hide.

Vergil snorts. "Depends on what you mean by 'eat' her."

Y/N shoots him a look. Luckily, she seems to be the only one to catch it. Nero is oblivious as he is too busy trying to blend in with his pillows.

"Anyway..."

"Our heroine reached the city and was hit by a startling revelation: it was quiet. Walking through the marketplace, she found stands of fruit abandoned and carts of goods unprotected. Where was all the hustle and bustle? Where were all the people? Further up the road, shutters rattled and there were hints of movement. The dancer wondered if she'd even be able to perform here if there was no one to be the audience. Then an idea stuck her: what if she could coax the people out with her talents? If not dancing, then maybe a lute or harp would soothe their spirits and rekindle the city's vigor. So she sought out the very reason she had come to this territory specifically: the grand theatre. There all kindred souls of music and art showcased their passions. She had hoped to connect with other performers here who were as dedicated to their craft as she was. Spotting the gold rooftop shimmering in the evening sun, she scurried towards it with a renewed excitement. Throwing the doors open, she gleefully announced her arrival."

"Only to be met with silence."

"How can a place of boisterous joy be silent? On hooks and shelves, all the instruments sat idle. Not a single string was singing. Even the tables were vacant with not even a crumb set out for the mice. 'What is going on?' she wondered. Still, she was even more determined now. Picking up a lute, she played a few notes. Testing its voice, she listened to the hearty tones and wondered how anyone could have put it down. Jumping into an energetic melody, she smiled to herself. This hall echoed the sound perfectly: each note complimented each other rather than drown in a sea of cacophony. Erasing the silence eased the chill that had settled in her chest. That is, until someone snatched the lute from her hands. 'Are you mad?!' hissed a man, 'You'll draw the beast right to us!' Confused, she asked him to explain. 'Music attracts him. If you keep playing, he'll come back!' She asked him if he was speaking of the dragon she heard about. 'Yes. He has settled into the castle on the hill. Both the castle and its lord perished many years ago. The city has never been quite the same since. Now this monster has taken over and the peace in our hearts have been shattered.' The man's words sowed worry in her heart. Yet, something struck her funny: if this dragon was so vicious, then why did it only attack, when he heard music? Did music have some kind of power over him?"

"Did the dragon not like music? Why?" Nero peeked around the edges of his blanket.

Y/N fixed her son's hair behind his ear. He was already nurturing the start of a bird's nest.

"The music made him remember..." Vergil's eyes were glossed over. Y/N could tell he was somewhere else. "Remembering was...painful for him."

Not expecting a co-narrator, Y/N waited to see if he would continue.

"See, the dragon was cursed: his memories stolen from him. Hearing a melody sometimes brought those memories back in bright flashes. Remembering what he had lost pained him more than the sharpest blade. Rather than endure his past, he silenced the melody any way he could. Even if it was...cruel," explained Vergil, his voice dry.

Was that a twinge of guilt Y/N could hear?

[Continued in Part 2...W.I.P.]

[dmcvergillament]

Vergil Headcanons

---Prefers tea to coffee. Specifically, green tea with a faintly sweet taste and a floral aroma.

---Is an introvert. Groups of people emotionally exhaust him, so he prefers to avoid them. Quality over quantity in terms of relationships. He'd rather focus his energy on a select few people to interact with than try to know half the town.

---Reserved. Knowing his secrets is the same as knowing his weaknesses. He'll keep certain aspects of himself a mystery forever if he can. Even small things like personal favorites can be difficult to extract from him. If he opens up to anyone, consider them well-respected and highly-trusted in his mind.

---Values his independence and will refuse any and all offers of aid as long as he can. Vergil doesn't know how to ask for help and will try to persevere on his own no matter the challenge. This sometimes lands him in situations that could have been avoided altogether if he had gone to Dante or Nero for assistance. He believes relying on anyone else, even family, is to admit to his own weakness, to accept that his power alone isn't enough. If he teams up with anyone for a mission, however brief, it will wound his pride greatly.

---One reason for always clashing with Dante is how he believes Dante was the favorite son. After all, Eva took the time to hide Dante first before even bothering with him. Then the fact Dante wields both Rebellion and Force Edge, two of their father's swords, makes Vergil question if Sparda intended his power to go to Dante. Doesn't help, when Dante later awakens Force Edge into the sword, Sparda, and fuses it with Rebellion to create an even more powerful blade. That power should have been his.

---Doesn't hate humans as much as he claims he does. He simply finds it easier to hate them all equally than to care for a few. After all, humans are short-lived, fragile creatures. Their souls are so loosely tied to their soft bodies that even lesser demons or other humans can separate them from the mortal plane. To open his heart to one is too great of a risk for him. He's already lost his mother. He wants to avoid going through the grief and hurt again, so he convinces himself he despises them. That way, no sentimental attachments are made and he only has to worry about his own well-being.

---A part of him yearns to reconnect with his twin: to lower their swords and cease their endless fighting, to become brothers again. Deep down, he holds no resentment towards Dante. Only misunderstandings, tragedy, and jealousy divided them as kids. Now it's Vergil's own pride that prevents him from making the first move to make amends. He's also wary that their history of animosity has already eliminated any chance of remedying his relationship with his brother.

---His favorite places: libraries, cafes, his office, the lake, and the local theatre.

---If he played an instrument it would be the cello and/or the piano for their delicate yet refined tones. The power in their sound doesn't rely solely on how loud they are either. Plus, he prefers being rewarded for precise, measured movements in his hands by creating complex melodies and chords.

[dmcvergillament]

Storm in Blue

News: "We bring you this urgent weather update: Hurricane Vergil will reach the coast at approximately 3 pm this afternoon."

Vergil: "Huh. I really am the storm that is approaching."

[dmcvergillament]

Dante: "Here's your coat back, Vergil."

Vergil: "...why do you have it?"

Dante: "I borrowed it while mine was at the cleaners."

Vergil: "Is that all?"

Lady: *Kicks door* "Where is that bastard?!"

Vergil: "Dante."

Trish: *barges in* "Where is he? We need to talk--"

Nico: *tires screeching* "Whacha do with it, you blue-fingered thief?!"

Nero: *already unsheathing his sword as he hops out of the van* "I can't believe you did this to me!"

Vergil: "Dante, what did you do?"

Dante: *dumps the coat on Vergil and slips away.*

Vergil: "DANTE!"

[dmcvergillament]

"Power is the currency used to make changes happen. Without power, the weak are helpless to alter the path of their destiny."

- Vergil (Headcanon)