#phonk scribes

[phonkscribes]

Little Library Headcanons

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?

[akukarya]

Phonk-y found another Narrator! this time, its Scribe. @raptor-lucid 's Narrator, well technically its his son and technically, hes not human-

I have been drawing here and there as well as trying to keep my head high for exams.

God, I have so much homework 😅.

but anyways, I hope the artist likes this sketch and I will hopefully post soon!

[phonkscribes]

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

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.

[phonkscribes]

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. 

You both were. 

[phonkscribes]

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.

[phonkscribes]

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.

[phonkscribes]

V is a careful lover, the side of Vergil that is delicate and understands that there is a certain finesse that comes with wooing that of which he wants. He is patient, observant, and has his eye trained upon the beholder of his affections. When reaching out to you, it is done with absolute conviction, aiming to strike true in hopes that these affections will be returned to him. Ever attentive, though at ease. He is aware that your heart might belong to another, that is entirely possible, but if you're happy, who is he to jeopardize that? V is considerate of your feelings, and yet he cannot help but to want to be a bit selfish.

He wants to be loved, and he wants to be given that more than anything.

Urizen is his opposite half, which unifies him to Vergil. He is possessive, and has no qualms with ensuring that you understand that you will be his and that he will be yours. As curious as that is, given his disdain for mortal life if it does not offer him power in any way, shape, or form. You make him act different, the king wanting to secure you and have you rule at his side as the world caves in. He makes a show of his power quite often, willing to shower you in gifts or to prove that he is the strongest possible mate that you will ever have or need.

He forgets his own strength in the pursuit for more, and in turn that may potentially harm you. That's something that he doesn't want, but he doesn't want to see you bleed either. That might be what causes him to push you away, to want to ignore you despite what his heart speaks to his fervent mind as he sits upon his throne. Such trivial matters shouldn't pester a king as they have, but here he is, wondering about that insignificant mortal... one that has planted such thoughts inside of him.

[phonkscribes]

Imagine Havik with a passive S/O, and dragging them along for his crusades of madness. He's out there having a blast, and while it's not their cup of tea per say, they're trying to be a supportive S/O anyhow and be besides him. Even if they're not causing enough chaos as they could, he'd find it cute. Aw, look at them go, struggling to crush another man's skull. Out of the way babe, this is how you do it. The gore splashes onto their clothes from, both sides as they smile and give him a thumbs up. In the end, he ends up showing off how brutal he can really be, and for a moment he wonders how someone so passive can tolerate his animosity for order.

Why haven't they run away or deserted him? Rain did after what he'd done in Seido, with Darrius leaving his side only moments ago. He'd wondered for a while if he'd have to go on alone, and so seeing his S/O there amidst the chaos waiting for him there imbues him with a certain vigor. They are the calm to his storm, completing him in a twisted sort of way. Perhaps it is this contrast that has captured him so. It leaves an inkling of conflict on his bloody heart, something he can reflect on in the aftermath as he reunites with them.

[phonkscribes]

singular devious thought before i turn in for the night.

Minors DNI

As much as Vergil seems to be the stoic type during intimate situations, he is not quiet at all. He could try to be, but that in itself is rather. He growls, he'll hiss, grunt and even groan when you squeeze him just right. Your walls being a tight embrace around him, it makes it hard for him to get himself under control as much as he wants to be composed. He's desperate, but that's something only he can know as his desires are met. He has no qualms with working for them, if you're on top, though making the eldest son of Sparda submit is a feat in itself.

The half-devil will speak your name, in a low tone, dropping it an octave for your ears as he alerts you of what he wants if you're failing to deliver it or grant it for him. The patient man unravels like a ball of yarn, falling into the the warmth of the sensation as he draws closer and closer to his release. Right as he does, he buries himself deep into the crook of your neck, latching onto the side of your neck and biting down. It's enough to leave a mark, and it definitely will. He doesn't leave you when the act is over, but he lingers, basking in your shared afterglow before he leads you to the bathroom for a shared bath.

Washing your hair and body relaxes him and allows him to get more comfortable as opposed to just falling asleep after having fucked you. Vergil is methodical, and he does not want to sleep while feeling sweaty. Perhaps it's also just to get a good whiff of your fresh scent as it mingles with his too as he just holds you there.

[phonkscribes]

Sparda is such a wife guy. He really treasures his S/Os because of their mortality in comparison to his own. At any moment he may lose them and that is something that definitely eats at him. He doesn’t like to display his concern because of who he is and what he’s become, but it’s hard to ignore. His protectiveness of his S/O is cranked up to the max setting too once he’s claimed them. If someone or something hurts them, he gives it the most withering glare while having a totally relaxed and nonchalant face like.

“Ah! Pesky thing, we could really do without it, couldn’t we?”, he asks, just before he’s about to obliterate it.

The legendary dark knight doesn’t take very kindly to others being disrespectful to his love either: for example, let’s say if one of his sons were acting unruly and causing them trouble.

“Dante”, he starts, voice heavy with that deep growl and that certain look in his eyes. It’s all he needs at most to straighten out the wild child. He’s glad that he didn’t have to be so stern with Vergil who was more tame than his brother, but still.

There won’t be anyone in this world that should cause them grief but himself. He was rebellious in his youth and that carries over even now. It’s all in good fun, and if there is anything that they truly hate that he does, he’d cease it in an instant.

[phonkscribes]

A kissaroo from me to you.

Or select Bullet Train smooch headcanons, not to be confused with kisses.

Ladybug

He’s the type to smile so hard when you grab his face for a good ol’ smooch.

The quick little press of your lips does well to bring him out of an anxious mood, especially when he’s rambling about the possibilities of what could go wrong.

“Thanks… I needed that”, he giggles sheepishly, rosey cheeks and all as he grins at you.

Definitely asks for another afterwards, like he can’t help himself… not that you’d deny him.

Lemon

He’d give you one back without even thinking about it.

Seriously, the second you plant your lips on his cheek or forehead, he’s already moving to get a good hold of you. It’s like a little game

“MUAH! There we are. Can’t have ya pass by without a lit’le somefin’ can I?”, he’d definitely address you by a train name afterwards

Despite being given the alias of Lemon, he’s always the sweetest when you happen to catch him out of work.

Tangerine

He is such a brat.

"Oi, stop that, I'm tryin' to do somethin' sweetheart", he's pushing you to the side(not really) as you plant your little smooches on his cheek or forehead

He acts like he doesn't like it, until you don't stop peppering them on him, and then he starts smiling and can't help himself

He grabs and holds you, so that you can't run away as he returns the little favors.

Once he's satisfied, he'll let you go and get off to wherever he was going originally.

Yuichi

The Father is comforted by these little smooches, because he feels assured that you love him on the days where he thinks you don't

He holds your hands there and brushes over the back of them with his thumbs.

Yuichi will say he loves you and wants to be embraced in a hug, sort of standing there with you and not wanting to let go.

He's a sap, but knows that he'll have to let go of you eventually to tend to Wataru. He will return the smooch on your forehead and scratch you with his stubble.

When he goes, he looks so sad, like a kicked puppy.

Shigeru

The Elder anticipated your smooch and retaliates with his own. He is quick, faster than you'd given him credit for as he delightfully catches you off guard.

After he's given you your little kiss, he watches you with adoration in his eyes, smiling as he chuckles at your reaction.

"Come", he beckons and lets you give him your smooch.

He pulls you to rest under his chin as he holds you, happy to have you safe in his arms as you two just rest there. He might tell you a story or say something wise here.

[phonkscribes]

Working under Wesker

You've been assigned to work with the infamous Albert Wesker on behalf of the virologist taking on more work than even he can handle. He won't hesitate to replace or to get rid of you if he doesn't think you're up to the tasks he gives you. It is an uphill battle to try and please him, and keep your job, but this seems to please him plenty enough.

He thinks its rather pointless to entrust another person with the important work that he does, especially one who he is not formally acquainted with. From the beginning, he's plotting on getting rid of you the first chance he gets unless you can prove your worth. The pressure is on, and it's only your first day.

The first task he has set out for you is to file reports with the information that has been made accessible for you, due in less than six hours. This is his first test, because he's already finished the report in case you make something that does not meet his expectations. Miraculously if you manage to finish the work that meets his standards, he will be surprised, but won't let it show on his face. If you fail, he will be there to insult you.

"It's really quite simple, if you can't manage this, I'm going to have to dismiss you. Is that something you want?", he taunts you yes, but he also means to push and challenge you. He only naturally comes off as an ass when doing so.

Wesker might not even trust you enough to allow you to handle reports, sending you off to do trivial tasks like to fetch him coffee or deliver paperwork from point A to point B. This is an incredible waste of your talents and capabilities, but that's because he doesn't have the time to carefully monitor you working on his things. When you show up with the cup in hand, practiced smile on your face, he drinks in the anguish written in your eyes. It might even steal a chuckle from him as he watches you walk back to your desk or designated area.

And watch you he does.

Even if he wasn't wearing shades, he'd drag his eyes carefully across your physique, thinking about the possibilities that might arise if he ever had the reason to turn you into an experiment. However, he does enjoy the shape of your body and how your clothes hug your form around certain curves. When you feel the weight of his gaze, he's already getting back to work, not letting his enjoyment of messing with you distract him for too long.

When he leaves for break or for the evening, you decide to stay behind, to take some of his work load in hopes of finally getting his approval. The sun has risen high above your head by the time you're through with it all, feeling a bit of sympathy for the other right before you decide to fall asleep at your space. When he arrives, he spots that all of his papers have been moved to your area. Albert's first instinct is to be mad with you, because you might've made errors and mistakes in his name, and he can't have you ruining his perfections.

Upon reading things over, with sharp and refreshed eyes, he can see now just how hard you've worked. Damn near to the bone, which he supposed was admirable. A hand reaches out to pet your head, smiling some to himself at how adorable you are resting. For now, you've earned some sleep, so he won't bother you until you either wake up yourself or six hours have passed(which he will write you up for). Wesker even leaves to go bring you a spot of coffee for when you do arise from your deserved slumber.

"Here you are, you've been asleep for long enough, wouldn't you agree dear?", you aren't sure what startles you more, him actually caring for you and being nice or the fact that you really have been asleep at your desk.

However you may react, he finds it to be adorable, and even holds a smile for a moment until he urges you to go and freshen up. They didn't hire you to dilly dally, they hired you to work. When you return, he pats the side of his table where there's free space, calling for you to join him.

You've proven yourself... for now.

"Don't let me down, rookie", he says with tease in his tone, but all the more stern. Some time after this, he lectures you about taking his work while he's away.

[phonkscribes]

Trivial.

He'd anticipated that you'd get injured, one way or another. Demons have a pension for wanting human blood, either spilled for the sake of feeding or just for the sake of taking it. What could you do in retaliation of the inevitable? Weaklings get crushed, by that of which is stronger than they are, and Urizen was power absolute. He should've seen to your disposal himself, as insignificant as you were to his plans. Though there is something that is so perplexing about you that hinders your eventual demise. There is something that even he cannot ignore.

Or, Urizen crushing on a GN! Reader and rushing to their aid.

He's convinced that it will pass.

Like a dull ache or the bite of hunger after having starved, but even those things require something to be satisfied. What could he need of you? You're a human, a mortal. The only thing that you could grant him is an easy meal. You, who is so insignificant to the king, would stand no chance. You would die before you could even process what had happened.

"Is that so?", you had asked, feigning confidence with a face that dared to smile at him.

Urizen reaffirmed, even if he didn't need to. You believed the behemoth as he sat upon his throne. He could hear your heart beating so quickly in your chest that he was surprised it hadn't leapt out of your throat and pulsed on the floor. It's a fitting reaction. All humans should cower before him, they should recognize that he is their superior in every shape, way, and form.

And yet you stood in front of him.

What pushed you to act so defiantly? What motivated you to speak to him with such impudence? He desired to know, perhaps the only other thing he desired aside from the fruit of the Qliphoth. The demon looked down upon you with that hint of irritation in his guarded gaze, a great many of his eyes fixating on your small figure. It was one of the few things he pondered when it came to you: your confidence and why he was allowing you to live while in his presence. Perhaps it was because you weren't a real threat to him, something that could be dealt with in an instant if he willed it. Maybe he just found you amusing, the way that a jester entertains a king.

Subconsciously, he had began to think of you as such.

When you'd journey through the demonic tree just to see him, he found himself becoming still, straining his ears to pick up on the sound of your heart. Amidst all of the inhabitants, yours was the most distinct, the quick pitter-patter that echoed when you ran and fought the lesser beings after your mortal blood. You'd managed to appear before him quite a few times, so it never crossed his mind that you would ever be in any real danger. That meant that you were formidable enough to come to him unscathed. Though something unpleasant struck his ears as he sat, rooted to his seat.

He thought he misheard, the sound passing, until something rich met his nose. It was a scent he could recognize, a fragrance that only belonged to one soul he knew.

Well... what did it concern him?

You were unlike that of any other mere mortal. You were the jester that came through to visit him, to entertain the king of hell. Your laughter grated his ears, like nails on a chalkboard, such an irritating sound. Such a pest... and yet he listened. When you went on about matters that did not concern him, he held his ears open, he took them in and remembered them against his wishes. The quickness of your breathe when you dared to approach him also was quite prominent in his memories, the way you were careful with your words and how you paid attention to the way he'd narrow his gaze at you with contempt.

Your demise should be the most entertaining act of them all, watched and observed with bravado, but that was not the case for the king.

He wanted to be there for it, to see it himself. If there was going to be anyone to bring you to ruin, it would be Urizen and by his own hands. The demon rose from his seat, summoning the crystalized yamato to his side to carve open a path to where you currently stood. He ought to delight in this, it was something he was convinced of as he stepped through. His gaze was indifferent as he made his grand appearance, your familiar scent wafted through the air, the aroma being another alluring.

There, right there, you sat-- or rather knelt.

The bodies of a few devils laid at your feet, but he could see where you'd been harmed. Your body quivered from the pain, the sharp twist in your side being one that only stung worse by the minute as you glanced at the wine that flowed from the gash made by those terrifying claws. Two Death Scissors materialize as the Qliphoth bleeds them through, the apparitions laughing at your miserable state while their king approaches. Their cackles fall upon your ears as you feel the ground shake beneath you, but you're relieved as you look to see Urizen drawing closer. A quick and painless death would be ideal compared to getting cut in sections or impaled by the scissors of the devils before you. You expect that the king means to crush you to death with a stomp of his powerful leg, or blast a hole through your head with one of his lasers.

He does no such thing, that look of abhorrence remaining in his gaze as he kneels to pick you up. You're so incredibly small compared to him, small enough to fit in his hand like you belong there. Your blood coats his rough palm as he looks at the two demons that float in the air. Urizen dares them to try something, to question his power or to challenge his decision to spare this meager human. The ghosts remain, silent though curious, undoubtedly. Their minds are not capable of forming any coherent thoughts, their only instinct was telling them to kill you and to feed on the blood of your corpse.

And yet... they are intelligent to know what it would mean to challenge the king of hell, the ruler of all demons.

It is why they have the sense to vanish from his sight, less they want their existence to be pointless.

In his hand, he brings you close to his face. Urizen inhales deeply, savoring the way you make his mouth salivate. You watch as he parts his lips to let his tongue slither out and lap at your wound to clean it, as if catching the juices of tender meat right as one takes the first bite. Your taste is more saccharine than anything he's ever tasted before, and the urge to devour you right then and there creeps into his mind like a dull whisper. Your heart hammers so delightfully in your chest, the crescendo of this act. He might've brought you closer to his jaws. What was keeping him from ending your life, from taking that fruit from the tree and savoring it.

Your hands.

Your hands at either side of his cheeks, a feeble attempt at a hug.

It pulls him from his thoughts, and the whisper in the back of his mind quiets itself. It's replaced by the sound of your voice. Even when it's so close to him like this, you speak softly, letting your words be carried like the wind as he holds you.

"Thank you"

Thank you?

A human who thanks a devil... how trivial.

Urizen dislikes the way he can hear you smile, the way that you rest yourself in his hand as your wound begins to heal. His energy was imbued the moment he gave you that 'kiss'. This feeling, it was one he recognized within the husk of his former self. In this form, he thought he was incapable of feeling it, but even now it has him in its sweltering grasp. The king of hell grunts, nearly growling at you, but he says nothing of it. The yamato is summoned again, and with it he creates the gateway to return to his throne. He's taking you with him.

Where you will be kept safe at his side, until he can comprehend why the idea of losing his jester is as insufferable as they are.

[phonkscribes]

I’ll come back to this but….

Urizen claiming he doesn’t care for the reader but as soon as they get struck by a Riot or a weakling Empusa, he goes ballistic.

[Y/N]: Why did you save me?

Urizen, cradling [Y/N] in his arms to protect them from harm: I didn’t save you. I was simply enacting my power upon these lesser life forms.

[Y/N], getting comfortable: Riiiiiiiighht.

[phonkscribes]

Can I get an order of giving Wesker a smooch, I just want to give him lil kissys every where

Mwah mwah mwah

Coming right up! Do be careful though, he's got worms.

Wesker is definitely not one for kisses, especially within close proximity of coworkers or other people. He has an important image to maintain, and is likely to grab you by the face to keep you at bay. Although it does amuse him behind closed doors, your gentle little pecks feel ticklish along his skin, pulling a deep chuckle from his throat as you press your lips against his own. He finds it to be adorable when you pepper him in kisses, but when he's had enough he'll do well to let you know. It's not that he doesn't like them, but he has things to attend to, and one kiss from you is enough to sate him until he has time to return your affections properly.

If it's in the bedroom, when the lights are drawn low and you find yourself in his arms, he will be a little more accommodating but simple foreplay tends to bore him when it goes on for too long. He'll want something deeper, nipping at you even as you close the gap between yourselves.

[phonkscribes]

Under Our Stars

It’s one run in after the other. Things don’t seem like they plan on letting up any time soon so… why not make do with the time you’ve got now? Dante can’t sleep anyhow and what better way to cut loose than while sharing a beer with you. The sky’s beautiful and the liquor keeps you warm. Maybe something else might too… with the two of you being out under the night with your thoughts, you can’t help but to want to take a chance.

Dante & a GN! Reader sharing a late night drinks. CW for alcohol consumption.

There were two chairs pulled out at the top, plastic ones he’d picked up from the street actually. They were just sitting there and if he passed them up, he would’ve regretted it. Much to Lady’s disdain, Dante had set up the worn plastic lawn chairs with a bucket besides him as he popped the cap of a chilled bottle on his sword. The hiss it makes as foam bubbles up is music to his ears. The only thing that would make this better is if there was a box of pizza besides him. The hour is late, like, waaaay too late. Any shop that slings a decent pie is closed, which puts a small frown to his face, only for a moment though.

He leans back on the plastic chair, stretching his legs out on the rest as he looks up at the sky. The endless darkness unnerved him to a degree, with things looking uncertain save for the little pinpricks of light that dotted the pitch black like freckles or moles. It’s peaceful, more than he’d had all day to be frank. Dante can’t believe that he’s slept under it so many times without ever really admiring it like this before. The beer bottle is brought to his lips as he takes a quick swig, swallowing the stout brew down and going to lick his lips to take a glance at the brand. Cheap beer doesn’t usually taste so good, but he’d make sure to get a different brand next time.

It was gross, there wasn’t really anything that made it worth finishing… but he might as well. He already opened it and he didn’t want to leave it unfinished. A sigh is pulled out of him, he could’ve probably poured it over the ledge of his shop, but then he could’ve hit Vergil or whoever else was coming in from a job. Oh god… a pissed off Verge coming up to beat his ass after a tough day, that would’ve been scary to deal with. Though it wasn’t his brother making his way up the steps.

It was you.

Dante’s known you for a while, longer than Lady and long enough to be well acquainted with Morrison and the type of commissions he brought to the table. You weren’t quite a devil hunter back then, just a mercenary looking to make it big and earn enough just to get by. Your knack for staying alive and pension for violence made you pretty infamous, going as far as to earn you the title of Roach, since there wasn’t a job that had killed you just yet. It’s something that he calls you even now, through the rubble and onslaught of demons that herald and accost you and Dante on missions, you still crawl out kicking.

Back to back the two of you have fought together, calling it close more times than you'd be able to count. He was always worried, even if he never said it outright. There was this little look he'd get in his eyes that made him look younger than he was, something you never failed to notice. It was like Dante was holding his breath, waiting for something to happen if anything was going to happen at all. When things turned out fine, he'd just laugh it off, like he was expecting all to end well. You had opened the door to the Devil May Cry after a particularly frustrating job. Pest control has its pros however, the client paid you good to get rid of the insectoid demons sitting outside of the site.

Your arms are killing you, your back sore from all that heavy lifting with your trusty hammer resting on your broad shoulders as you let the door close behind you. All things considered, it wouldn't have been a terrible idea to turn in for the night and hit the sack. Though... you didn't want to sleep just yet. Leaving your trusted weapon by the door, you make your way to the kitchen, remembering that you'd bought a pack of beer earlier in the week. Cracking a cold one while laying beneath the stars sounded like a better pass time than staring at the ceiling while you tried to teeter off to unconsciousness. The fridge is empty when you look inside, but you're not surprised by that. That just meant someone-- definitely Dante-- nicked some beer off of you. He probably took the pack with him, which you didn't mind all that much either.

Trish said you two were more alike than the two of you'd ever realize, though you're a bit more level headed than the younger son of Sparda. With a knowing sigh, you close the door and hike it upstairs to meet him there.

Dante sat there, arm resting on the back of the lawn chair in anticipation. He'd been waiting, not long since you knew he'd be up here, but still waiting. He's got that look in his eyes, and you give him a look of your own as you mosey on over to join his side.

"I thought Lady told you not to bring those in", you take a seat, groaning as you plop down into the plastic.

"You won't tell on me, will ya? Here", he picks up a bottle from the bucket between the two of you and pops the cap off using the rim.

"... Thanks", you take it, deciding not to comment on him giving you your own beer. You bring it to your lips and swallow it down, the taste only hitting your tongue a second afterwards.

Dante chuckles at the face you make, watching as you slowly turn the bottle over to look at the label. Definitely not getting this again. You're baffled at how badly it tastes, but continue to drink it anyways. You've had... well you can't really say you've had worse than this.

"Tastes like..?"

"Tastes like horse piss", you finally say, earning another chuckle from the legendary devil hunter.

You give him a soft smile as you eye the bucket, there's two more in tow, not that you'd take another after finishing the first. Dante swirls the bottle around in his grasp like it's a fancy wine glass while he eyes you, you flick your eyes over to him and study his expression for a moment. You're not shy, not at all, but... it's different when it's him. You're looking up at the dark sky, illuminated by the stars as you let him muse some more. You hate how you tend to squirm when you know he's been looking at you for long enough.

"You have a good day today?", he asks, grinning as he turns to look at the stars too. They really are so gorgeous tonight. It's not often that Redgrave allows for starry nights.

"Mm, better now that I'm back", you say, trying to word things carefully.

Today kind of sucked, but you weren't going to tell him that per say. It was sort of uneventful aside from the job you took earlier. It's not that it was hard, but there were just so many. Your arms would be as heavy as lead tomorrow, that you were sure of.

"Good to hear. Can't say the same for myself", he took another swig for the sake of it.

"Why? You forget to take the trash out again?", you asked with a small laugh in your voice. You'd seen him get scolded before by Trish for not bothering with keeping the place clean. It's alarming how grimy he can be, and a miracle that any of you are able to put up with it.

"Whaaaat? No...", Dante says it in a way that sounds uncertain, "I just didn't have anything better to do, and no one to bother, but now that you're here~" "Right, right", you shake your head before the silence between you two settles in again. Not that you mind, but you'd know that Dante would.

The hunter wasn't really one for comfortable silences, they always felt awkward for him. When were you supposed to break them? When was it alright to cut in and say something? Of course, if you didn't say anything, he wouldn't say anything. You get the urge to when you have the cold bottle start to nip at your finger tips.

"It's a nice night out", finally turning to look at him.

His hair falls in front of his face like a mop, you're not sure how he's able to say anything with the strands of white sitting in front of his face, but somehow he makes do. His eyes are a soft kind of blue, the color of daylight. He's got a couple of wrinkles too, you notice, just around his eyes as he holds that easy smile. It makes you twist at the thoughts you think up when your own eyes rest on him for too long. In the time that you've known him for, something started to develop between all the fights for life and death.

Something he doesn't know about.

"Sure is...", he trails off, setting his bottle down on the ground between his legs.

He's got his hands in his lap, fumbling with his gloves for a second. You want to say something, maybe you're on the cusp of it before he starts talking about how he wished he had some pizza right now. He can never get enough of the stuff. The conversation carries itself after that, the two of you going back and forth with how there are other places to order from with you even suggesting that he learns how to cook for himself. He retorts by saying he'd burn the kitchen down. You fire back by saying you'll teach him not to. Dante complains that he can't get boiled water right.

You're both fascinated and frustrated by how stubborn he can be. Your exasperated responses only make him laugh when you tell him you're being serious(you're not.) He knows you just as well as you know him, given that he'll relent if you keep pressing eventually, but it's so like him to still want to push your buttons. How could he not when you reacted like he'd bombed an orphanage? With every offended gasp and 'HUH?!' he'd inch his way closer to you, and you'd do the same. You're pressing your knees together, a little cold from being out on the roof and nearly huddling together just to stay warm. The night is getting older and older, you realize but you're still not tired.

Dante gives you a little nudge, looking at you for a hot second. By then, you'd gotten through the first bottle, and out of boredom you started on your second which was just about done. He had stopped after he finished his first, and even joked about you liking the taste of horse piss with how you still drank it even if it was gross.

"What?"

"Nothin'... just... Mm, I don't know", he shrugged, his sky blues going to steal a glimpse at your lips. A hand reaches out to touch your knee. You look at it like it's a bug, surprised but indifferent. You could move it if you’d like, but you let it remain.

He likes the way you, in spite of how seriously badass you were and could be, got nervous when he did this. It wasn't hard to throw you off guard, at least when it didn't matter like this. Your heart falls upon his ears as your eyes slowly look up to meet his. The hand travels upwards, sliding against your thigh as he shifts his seat to be closer towards you. If you didn't want this, he'd pull away, slip through the door and leave you be. He hoped he wasn't wrong about this. You swallow dryly, reaching up yourself to gingerly reach out and touch him too. Your tedious approach is endearing, ever careful as you inch closer and test his own knee as if it were unfamiliar territory. 

Gravity draws the two of you together, Dante leans in and you get a whiff of his scent. He smells like sweat and blood, mingling together nicely with his musk. It’s earthy, grounding… entirely home. You smell a thousand times better, in his opinion. He could breathe you in for hours, but he’d rather have a taste. One of his hands comes up to brush your hair out of the way, his thumb padding over your cheek as he moves in for the kill. It’s so cute to hear your breath catch in your throat as he presses his lips against yours. 

You feel… soft to him here. 

It’s almost ticklish, prompting a smirk as you lean into him. Your own hands coming up to mirror his own. They’re a bit cold from nursing the shitty bear, but they’re plenty welcomed. It’s comforting, gentle and speaks volumes. Just how long have you been keeping yourself at bay? The kiss was naive in the beginning, but now he wanted more. He wanted to get past that nasty beer taste on his tongue and he wanted to feel your warmth on the inside. 

You were hungry for that, he could tell, could feel it as you were on the precipice of surrendering. His other hand works its way up your leg some more, almost coming flush against your pelvis before a door is opened. The sound jostles you as he pauses and draws back to see who it was interrupting your soiree. While you move to get more comfortable in the plastic chair, he seems to be having a chat with Trish, something about Lady having told him to take out the trash. The demoness was about to lay into him further, before she glanced over to see you sitting a little too close to Dante. 

“I got it, I got it”, he says. 

Trish disappears with a quiet chuckle as the son of Sparda spares you a knowing look, apologetic for a second before putting on a more hopeful expression. 

“I’ll be right back if you wait for me”

“Don’t keep me long”