We are nothing, if not absurd.

Sunshine (they/them/it/it's) (Requests are CLOSED, I am finishing out the rest in my inbox.) I write for jojo (1-6) and DMC (1-5, and reboot). Do good recklessly. Proshippers DNI.

[honeydew-mel0n]

The fact that I have to say this again is infuriating. 

If you are a proshipper/ sp*rdacest shipper or knowingly support/are okay with sp*rdacest, do not interact with my blog. 

Do not follow me. Do not like, reply to, or reblog any of my posts. Especially my writing. 

You are not welcome here. You never have been welcome here. You never will be welcome here. None of the content I create is for you, and it never will be. 

DO NOT INTERACT.

[honeydew-mel0n]

For The First Time

I wrote this last year and never finished it. It was meant to be a full one shot, but I never liked how it evolved when I tried to finish it. So, here it is as a drabble. It was meant to be DMC2 Dante, hence why he's so quiet.

!⚠️Warning⚠️! Mentions of sex and alcohol consumption. (If you reblog with tags, do not leave ANY out. Thank you.)

Dante x Reader | Readers gender is never mentioned.

Your place was solidified by your records in the jukebox, as well as your ability to turn on and change the radio on the jukebox with no protest. Your music was so much different than his. it was always soft. It could be sad and still have a gentleness, or the happiest whispers along soft and groovy melodies. When things got quiet in the office, you’d turn it on and let it play. The music was nice as you worked, cleaned, or did anything else really. His favorite part is when you continue on with your work, gently humming with your hips swishing from side to side with the music. It always happens, as natural and constant as the revolving of night and day.

That night had started off different then normal, but only by a little bit. That little bit was the couple glasses of whiskey you had been sipping on all night. An hour ago your hips began to move slowly as you slowly paced the square footage of the office, eventually you made a show of it. Sultry dancing to an album he doesn’t know the name of, but knows you love.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you moved, eyeing you up over the rim of his glass. You knew this song enough to move your body at every right moment, and he knew your body enough to be addicted to it. Maybe the way you were dancing was a little too charged for the song playing, but neither of you cared. Neither of you cared about anything other than that moment. Despite your dancing, sex was the last thing on his mind. He just wanted to watch you, watch you move like that all night. Every little movement, he cannot bear to miss.

His eyes trail up your body as you laugh to yourself, you could feel his eyes on you and there was nothing you could want more. Your movements slowed, but your hips still held a rhythmic swing from side to side. Hand holding out to him. “Come dance with me, baby.” Your voice was just as slow and melodic as the music, but with your signature telltale sweetness on the base. His heart jumped into his throat for a second as he desperately tried to hide it from you. Under his gloves, his hands were hot and wet with sweat. He was nervous, you made him so nervous and he didn’t know why. He’s been interested in people before, but you… you made him nervous.

Swallowing down the phlegm in his throat, he chuckles a bit as he takes one last sip. His eyes close so he can gather himself, the iced alcohol running down his throat. You were drunk, you didn’t actually want what you think you did… Of course what he thought you wanted was sex, but all you really wanted was his attention. With the glass leaving his lips he stands up, eyes open as he licks the remnants of whiskey off his lips. Your expressed excitement grows as he walks towards you, he had meant to shut down your little dance party for the night. Sober you up with some water before walking you home, or at least tucking you into a safe bed for the night. But when he got close enough, your arms rounded his waist before pulling his hips against yours.

You pulled him into a slow dance as the song changed, giving him a cute, daft smile. Your request was so sweet, and you looked so perfect tonight… He had to honor your request at least for a little. One dance wouldn’t hurt.

He’d never been too much of a dancer before you, but he learned it was better to follow your guidance then to make his own moves when it came to this. With your hold on his waist, he gripped your hips lightly as you led the slow, sensual flow to the melody. It was nothing and everything at the same time. He didn't want to fuck you in that moment, he just wanted you and wanted nothing more then for this to never end. His skin felt hot as you let go of him and moved more freely in his hold, like a fluid, like water in his hands and around him.

You made his heart pound against his ribs, and he swears to god you can feel it too. You can feel how nervous he is, he knows you can. You make him nervous. Why do you make him so nervous? The song had begun to fade out, he knew it was time to close up shop. Get you ready to go home- or to bed safely at least. His lips part to speak but your hand comes to his face, your thumb resting against his lower lip. His breath comes out shaky, a real smile pressing forwards. He usually makes the moves, does the sweet talking- and here you are, sweet talking him with no words at all.

That's when you kissed him. You’d been involved many times prior, but… this felt so right. You kissed him just as gently as when he kissed you for the very first time. His grip, rather possessively, tightens on the soft flesh of your hips.

[honeydew-mel0n]

My Heart Is Buried In Venice

Caesar Zeppeli x reader | Reader's gender is never mentioned.

Heyyyyy, remember when I said I would write for Jjba and then didn't? Well I'm here now and I have angst. (If you reblog with tags, do not leave ANY of the current tags out. Thank you.)

Waiting for someone to take it… home.

-

Joseph, Lisa Lisa, and Messina had already packed everything into the car, all pressing themselves into their chosen seats. You weren’t looking at them though, you didn’t even feel as though you were even in the same world as them. Your lips pressed to a bitterly sweet smile, brows downturned melancholically. The blond Italian man before you radiated love for you, soft green eyes held nothing but confidence for the mission at hand. You trusted he would come back, but something about this whole situation felt wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. 

The last words he spoke lost themselves in a soft mutter, and for a second, you saw the confidence in his eyes falter. As if he were afraid or nervous. Discreetly, as not to alert the other parties around you both, his hand slips from his pocket. Something encapsulated in his large hand. “You are worthy of something so much more, la mia colomba, but…” Slowly unfolding, your face grows incredibly hot as the small box lined with black velvet is displayed to you. He opens it, a single gold band is inside of it, glittering like the sun itself. A shocked and exasperated chortle leaves you. “It’s only for now. When I return I will replace it.” There is a gentle tenderness in his voice, one he’s never dared to use in public and risk ruining his image- but for you, he’d do anything.

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest, pounding hard enough to put any drummer to shame. “Oh, Caesar… It’s already so wonderful, I- It’s perfect, I love it.” It takes no time at all for him to slip the ring onto your finger, tears making their place and turning the scene before you into a watercolor. 

From the car behind you, the loud brit in the front seat shouts. “Hey Caesar-ino, we gotta go.” the both of you give a weak glance over to him, your lover’s being a rather unimmunised one. Damn it, could that bastard be any louder? 

His gaze returns to you, so sweet and gentle as he takes your features in. Joy is all he can feel in this moment, blocking out the fear and anxiety of the situation around the two of you. Looking at you now all he can feel is joy, because you are his joy. Honey drips from his voice as he speaks to you. “When I return, I will make you mine. We will wed, I promise you.” For three long years, you had been waiting for him to say something like that. Not just the sweet talk and poetic displays of his love for you. Something solid and genuine. Your bottom lip trembles as he continues. “I will always come back to you, il mio amore. Wait for me.” That last part was somewhere in between a statement and a question. More so begging. 

Your hand comes to gently cup his cheek, to which he places a gentle kiss to your palm. “Caesar, love of my life, I will always wait for you. No matter what, I promise you.” That seemed to soothe any worry he may have had away. You always seemed to be able to do that, a magical touch and gaze that you have. He did not kiss you goodbye like he usually does every day, for he was so sure that the kiss he gives you when you reunite will be one for the ages. 

Like that he slips from your hold, leaving you with the remnants of his warmth as he joins his friend and mentors in the car. Suzie Q stands beside you as Joseph says his piece to her from the car as they drive off, the young woman tossing a rock in his direction in retaliation. You didn’t even fully register their conversation at all as you waved them goodbye, your gaze locked onto the man you love so dearly. Staying so and still as he faded off into the distance. 

That was the last time you ever saw Caesar. But, just as he had asked, you waited for him.

[honeydew-mel0n]

hey there! are you taking requests? can you do headcanons about reboot!dante with his fem!s/o during/post the game events?

i just finished dmc today and im starving for anything about him. thank you ❤️🥺

I am not taking requests at the moment, just finishing out the ones in my inbox.

[honeydew-mel0n]

in the mood for angst so spardads reunite with their kid who went missing?

I’ve never been the best at angst, and I don’t think this counts, but it’s close enough. Also, characters might be a little OOC, it’s been a little while since i’ve sat down to write- forgive me.

⚠️TW⚠️- discussions of running away.

Spardads Reuniting with Their Missing Kids

Dante

He’d never thought he’d see you again, alive at least. Years of seemingly endless searching, dead ends, clumps of his own hair pulled out, night’s spent grieving on your bedroom floor, and the constant and overwhelming feeling of failure. He was not prideful in that failure was his biggest fear overall, no, but the guilt in failing his kid. The one thing he promised to love, nurture, and protect- even if it killed him. Five years ago you suddenly vanished into thin air, and now here you are on his doorstep. The very doorstep you disappeared off of.

You looked good. You were clean, healthy, in nice clothes, your hair was shorter, and you looked happy- excited even. You were finally here, finally home… But all Dante could do was stare down at you, eyes wide and blinking slowly as he tried to process that the vision in front of him was real. To finally let himself rest, to let himself give up, he had to convince himself you were gone for good. That you were dead and he wasn’t there to protect you. A grim belief to live by, but somehow he’d conceptualized that it was better than working himself to death to find bones that didn’t want to be found. But you were alive, and the part of him that was slowly getting a grip on that wanted to be happy about it. You just…

Before him now, you look so much like he did at your age, just so much happier.

Quickly he snaps out of his trance, leaning against the door with a light chortle. “Well hello to you too. Where the hell have you been, kid?” Your wide smile softened, your gaze did too. Going from just excitement, to being happy to see him. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him and burying your face into his shoulder. He was tense beyond belief and didn’t hug you back, his hand came to rest in between your shoulder blades.

-

You run your hand over the arm of the couch, the feel of the smooth leather bringing a warm feeling to your chest as child memories flood back to you. You couldn’t begin to count how many times growing up that you passed out against it and had to peel your face from the leather after hours. Letting out a soft chuckle as your dad joins you on the other side of the couch. Sinking into the plush cushions and letting out a typical dad groan as he does so, a glass of whiskey in his hand. When you saw it, you couldn’t help but press your lips flat in displeasure.

Growing up, he avoided drinking around you. Even with the ability to not get drunk, he knew it was still not good to do so. He was already a walking bad influence of a father, he really didn’t need to make it any worse. But, you’re an adult now, so drinking around you isn’t really all that big of a deal, but it upsets you in a pitiful and juvenile kind of way. Sucking it up, you look around and wait for him to say anything. Everything is so much more messy, weapons, clothes, and trash littering the ground. Maybe he only kept the place clean for you, and as you got older you just helped clean. He wouldn’t have had a reason to clean if you were gone.

Dante clears his throat to get your attention, which works, snapping you out of your thoughts. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to spill it. Your fingers tap idly at the arm of the couch as you peel the skin from your lower lip with your teeth. “I- …It wasn’t because of you, Dad, I promise.” You say in a firm tone. “I know that’s probably what you think, that you did something wrong and that you somehow had something to do with it- but you didn’t. Not really, and I’m sorry.” You turn a bit, jamming your back in between the back and the arm of the couch to face him. He gives you a nod as a go ahead, and you give him one back.

You spilled everything. That you had run away because you wanted to piss him off and get attention, you wanted to rebel just like your friends were. How you’d thought he would find you- but he didn’t, so you kept going. Kept moving.

“I realized I had fucked up around two months out, when I had to sleep at a bus stop in the rain. There was a payphone attached to it and I- I wanted to call you.” Your voice was wispy and breathy, and the knot in your throat became obvious to him too. His fingers tap against his glass quickly, watching the alcohol in his glass ripple. “Not that I wanted you to come and fix my mistakes… I just wanted my dad. Of course I didn’t… I didn’t think you would want me back.” He looks up from his drink at you. Your eyes were cast at the ground, lips pressed flat as you gripped your own arms tightly.

“I thought you hated me.”

Dante’s eyes drift back down to his drink, watching the ripples fade out into a smooth surface. It was quiet, sickeningly so. He didn’t know what to say, he knew that you were deeply upset and remorseful, but what does he say in this situation? A feeling twists in your chest, he was deeply upset with you and you knew that. He nods, trying his best to force a fake smile- but he can’t. Lips twitching as he struggled, a chortle leaving him in a breathy manor. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t… I don’t hate you.” But he is so fucking mad at you. You know that, he knows that. He wishes he wasn’t so angry. Unable to force out anything other than the choked and exasperated beginnings of words. He couldn’t defend your actions or speak any ounce of forgiveness, no matter how much he wanted to.

There was an aura that permeated throughout the room, a thick and heavy feeling of grief and unwelcomeness. Like the heavy smoke of a raging forest fire, sticking in your throat so heavily you felt as though it would make you cough up your lungs. To Dante it felt as though the feeling was coming from his chest, the aching heart behind his breast pumping out the noxious feeling of affliction. It was something that was so natural for him, before and after your place in his life. As you grew he tried his hardest to keep himself from falling back into his perpetual pity party, but that wasn’t a privilege he had the energy to give you anymore. Your eyes fell shut for a second, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself as you felt the knot in your throat rise. The urge to sob being forced down enough to stay courteous. Rising from your seat on the couch, you pull a slip of folded yellow paper from your pocket and hand it to him.Taking it, your father shoots you a questioning glance. “Just in case you wanted to contact me.” You say in a light voice, trying to hide the torrent of emotions you were holding back.

“If not, that’s okay too. You can just throw it away.”

That's the last thing you said to him before you left again. Dante put the sticky note on the base of his phone, a bright yellow flare as a reminder of your presence. Of what you had told him. Had he done something that made you want to rebel against him? That made you want to upset him by running away? He knows what you said, swearing up and down that he hadn’t- but how could he believe that? His kid had just shown back up one day- after five years- and told him that they wanted to upset him by running away and expected forgiveness? His kid, his baby.

Eyes were caught on the yellow slip of paper for so long every day that the black outline of your number burned into his retnus. There was the feeling in his throat, like something had a tight grip on it. Preventing him from taking a proper breath. It wasn’t just anger he felt now, but a deep remorse for himself. For what he lost, for you. The father in him wanted to hold you accountable for your actions, allow you to sit and think about what you’d done. But your dad… your dad wants to work through this, to not hurt anymore or hurt you.

“God damn it.”

Vergil

Truth be told, he hadn’t a clue what to do when you disappeared. It was well obvious you had run off, having been mere hours after an argument between the two of you with all of your weapons and battle gear gone. At first he was angry and confused, out of his two children you were the least likely in his mind to react in such a brash manner. You're the youngest, his golden child. Every problem you had with each other was usually worked through quickly. Vergil wanted to find you, hunt you down, bring you home, and send you through the most rigorous training of your life as punishment- but he didn’t. He remembered his younger self, running around fighting anyone and everything, in a desperate attempt to prove something to himself- to anyone watching.

You are so much smarter than he was, and have had so much more than he ever did. A better head on your shoulders than he’s ever had. So he didn’t look for you, not really. When he had to leave, of course he kept an eye out for any sign of you. Vergil knows better than anyone what you’re trying to prove to him, to yourself, he thought better than to distract you. You’d come back when you know the time is right... He was so sure of that.

It had been raining heavily that entire day, flood warnings on every channel of the radio and television. He rarely ever used either by his own will, instead only being subjected to your taste in shows and his brother's taste in music- both of which he found mind numbing, but he only ever complained about his brother’s side of it. He hates seeing the way your face falls when you had once been so excited to show him something you enjoyed, only for him to accidentally crush that excitement with his grating nature. Vergil was a man who preferred a calm environment in the domestic part of his life, but he’d come to miss the faint sound of you living in the other room. The sound of the shower, your music, laughing while calling your friends or your brother. So, the radio was on, playing some classical music station so he didn’t have to deal with the monotonous lyrics about love and parting from muscitions too young to even fully understand what they were singing about. The only light on in the living room was the table lamp he used to illuminate the pages his eyes were caught on.

The front door opens with a harsh slam as the sound of the downpour fills the space. He wastes no time getting to his feet and adjacent to the doorway. It was a sight he’d never forget. Your form slumped against the door frame, your weapon in hand clattering to the ground followed by your set of keys. The smell of wet unwashed hair, and putrid mix of human and demon blood permeated through the room. Your body pushed itself from the frame, taking a few weak steps forward before collapsing. Before your head could collide with the hard wood of the floor, he is between you. Your head landing heavily on his shoulder as you slip from consciousness. When he looks down, you are the most exhausted and beat up he’s ever seen you. You’re filthy and the rain is obviously the closest thing you’ve had to a shower since you left.

His poor, poor child.

He’d taken you to your bed after getting you out of your filthy, drenched clothes. Putting everything you had managed to bring back with you, away. You didn’t wake up for a while after that, stuck in a perpetual slumber as everyone hesitantly waited for you to awake. Nero and Kyrie dropped by frequently, despite Vergil and his strained relationship. The two somehow managed to keep it civil for the two innocent parties present, only speaking to discuss your condition before he went in to see you. The young man had been so angry at his father when he found out he didn’t search for you. Your older brother would sit at the edge of your bed, and gently hold your hand as he spoke to your unconscious form, Kyrie beside him in support. She’d often leave food and baked goods for him and you for once you woke up- but this time she’d left a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the nightstand.

The flowers added a colorful brightness to the room, even long after the couple had left. Leaving Vergil to sit with you in silence, which was a nightly occurrence now anyways. He’d sit with you for hours after the sun had set, reading, writing, stitching up holes in his or your clothing. The last one was something he’d only taken up once you had gone. You had a fixation for hand stitching the holes in your own clothes. Eventually he gave in, letting you sew up and patch his clothing as well. It was resourceful and cut down in expenses- after all, a spool of thread and a few needles costs a lot less than replacing entire outfits. Tonight though, he had nothing. Not even he knows how that happened. There is only you, him, and his thoughts.

You looked peaceful. Truth be told, this was probably the first time you’d slept in weeks. Making up for that time by sleeping for weeks. At least you didn’t look as terrible as you did when you first got here, but that didn’t mean much. There was a feeling in his chest, stinging his lungs and heart as it beat. Worming its way from the darkest parts of his soul and mind, like the roots and branches of weeds. They bloom in his chest, pushing through his rips and constricting his lungs. He had tried to ignore it these past few weeks, to focus on you and literally anything else, but you can only ignore weeds for so long …Was this his fault? It had to be. A thick lump forms in his throat as he shifts in his chair, resting his jaw in his hand as his eyes hold on you. Shifting your head and letting out a dry groan.

If there is one thing in the world that Vergil hates the most, it’s admitting when he’s wrong and someone else was right. He hates having to admit that he made the wrong decision, but right now there was no way he could deny it. He had made the wrong choice, and you paid for it.

His hand takes yours that had been resting over the fold of your duvet, the sound of rain softly pattering on the pains of the window. Your skin was cold under his for a moment before both of your warmths melded together. You were strong, an intelligent fighter, quick to pick up skills… But you were also stubborn, pushing yourself to be better even when the goal was impossible for you at that moment, and you doubted the strength you had. An ever burning fear within you that you would never be as strong as him, that you would bring shame to his name. You were much like him, too much like him. The fight you had the night you left, it was over your strength and ability. Vergil hadn’t thought he said anything too harsh, but maybe he had- if it had been so harsh as to spark the thoughts to leave in your youthfully ignorant thoughts.

His grip on your hand tightens protectively. Nero was right, he should have gone out after you. He could have prevented this. When Vergil looks at you and your brother, he sees parts of himself, as he should, but this… Was he so overly confident in himself that he allowed you to be hurt? It was late, and even he needed rest eventually. This was about the time every night that he’d head off to bed. With a deep breath, the tightness of his grip releases but your hand does not. Your hand held a tight enough grip on his hand, enough to make his lips twitch into a smile. Maybe he’ll stay with you just a little longer.

Nero

Nero had been so certain that you were ready to join him in the field, kicking demon ass was in your blood and you had already proven to have an affinity for it. You had been so excited to get out into the action, and that's what made him feel so confident in taking you out with him. That you were confident in your ability. To be fair, you had also impressed the hell out of him for 90% of it. Doing so well it didn’t even seem like you needed him to be with you, except where the other 10% of the job came in.

The nest he had been called to take out was reported to be a small one, infesting the remnants of a defunct hotel-resort thing in the middle of nowhere. One of those places that used to attract tourists in the 80’s but became a hotspot for “Urban Explorers” in recent years. That's what they fed on, the 20-somethings with cheap go-pro cameras and a need for attention and internet fame.

Someone had bought the place to try and revamp it and bring it back to its glory days and barely escaped with their life before coming to him for help. That’s why he brought you with him, it was something small for your first time on the job. Something you could both easily handle without him having to watch you like a hawk. It had been that way, until parts of the floors began to collapse and the ground floor split open. Nero plumited 6 floors into the basement level while you remained to take on the rest of the hoard by yourself. From what he could tell, you handled them just fine- finding your stuff scattered on the 4th floor. It was obvious you had been intercepted trying to look for him, but whatever had taken you, it had taken you with enough force for you to be stripped of all your weapons.

The next three months he spent trying to find you by any means possible. Everyone around him tried to be supportive, but it didn’t do much to help his guilt or sense of urgency. He tore through nest after nest, following any clues given to him about where you were or what they were doing with you. When he finally got word from a minion of the creature that took his kid, he didn’t even care to consider that it might be a trap. Just jumping on it. This time, he was able to call up Nico to join him, and fuck, he's glad he did.

The feeling of the van moving was a subtle comfort, yet did nothing to sooth the knot of nerves he had become. He’d thought finding you would fix all of that, but the poor man had assumed that you’d be in better condition. It seemed stupid now, how he’d expected you to be just fine when he found you. You were a firecracker of a kid, you were tough, strong, and as witty as he could be. He guessed that’s why you had been used as a demon core. Nero tries to swallow the cynical thoughts swirling through his head, it was a coping mechanism- he knows that, but he had stayed optimistic until now. He can’t just give into the looming inner darkness now, not when you needed his hope the most.

Swaddled in all the blankets he could find in the van, you were still cold to the touch. You were emaciated and your skin was lacking its undertones- filled with a sickly gray instead. When he had carried you in, Nico asked if you were dead. To be very fair, if it weren't for your faint breathing and the fact he watched you fall out of the demon, he would have assumed you were dead too. That made him sick, a horrible churning in his gut as he soothed down your matted hair. You being wrapped up like this reminded him so much of having to swaddle you when you were first brought home, how little you were, how much you’d cry when he’d put you down for any reason. Knuckles brush gently down the side of your face.

How did you get here? How did you get this big? Has it really been 16 years? His head lowers, forehead pressing gently to yours and he trembles on the floor of the van, breath staggered with tearless and quiet sobs. A pair of eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror as she adjusts it, the picture of her friend sitting on the floor of her van. “Are they gonna be alright?” Nico asks as she returns the mirror to its proper position, her voice had an uncharacteristic softness to it. She definitely knew that now was not the time for her abrasiveness. Nero’s lips press flat, no answer is given. He wants to say that you’ll pull through, that you’re strong enough to pull through… but he just doesn’t know. Lady had pulled through quick enough after she’d been rescued from her energy sucking prison, but she’s a fully grown adult- you’re just a kid.

Your head shifts to the side, causing him to jerk back. You hadn’t moved at all by your own will since he’d found you, so your sudden show of life was a surprise, albeit a welcomed one. You try to swallow down nothing, only getting air as your head rolled to the side facing your father. His chest jumps with shocked and excited breaths, the feelings of deep sorrow being cut through like the flame of a match in the darkness of night. A grunt leaves you as your brows knit, dry and chapped lips spreading into a displeased display. “Eehh… Dad?” Your voice was horse from the dryness of your throat and lack of use, filled with a tired and pained confusion. A triumphant laugh sounds from his chest as his hand soothes your hair over and over. “Dad, Dad I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed it up…” Your eyelids begin to flutter open, head tearing from side to side as you try to lift it.

“Shit, no- Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

[honeydew-mel0n]

Dante

Ayo, this is self indulgent af.

After an incident with Dante’s s/o, he finds himself hunting for a demon that shares his name. 

3! Dante x reader

You had always been such an upbeat person, lighting up his life every time you entered the room Dante was in. When he tried to picture an angel in his head, the only thing he could ever come up with was you. Without even knowing it sometimes, you have lifted him out of some of his darkest moments. To him, you are the ultimate source of joy- love incarnate. If he could wish for anything, it would be to spend the rest of his life with you. 

It was well past noon, and you had yet to get up. It was normal for him to sleep well into the noon hours after particularly long jobs- but not for you, not even after being on a job for a week straight. You always got up in the morning to make breakfast for the both of you and wait on, and or look for jobs. Today however, he had been the first to rise at about 10 am. Taking a long shower only to come out to nothing but an empty and quiet office. Dante had figured you didn’t want to make breakfast, which was fine, he wouldn’t have wanted to either. You are a grown adult and can take care of yourself, so he rarely has to worry about you. But… 

Worry had begun to swirl in his gut when it hit 2 pm, the only sound that had come from the bedroom was the light sound of moving sheets. You had obviously rolled over and were not getting up. Swallowing his growing worry, he leaves his desk, making his way back to the bedroom. He stops just outside of the door, listening to your breathing. It’s heavy and tired, but you are definitely awake. Back facing the door, curled up with the blankets nested around you. The curtains had been drawn shut, leaving a little bit of light in the room. The energy around you felt thick and heavy, which is so different. You were normally the first breath of cool, clean air in a forest after the smog of a city. 

A sigh leaves him before he pushes in pulling a blanket away from you back so he could curl up with you. The heavy arm sliding over your waist was a welcomed weight, it was real unlike the weighted blankets you had used for years to trick your chemically imbalanced brain into believing it was getting the touch of another human. A small smile twitches onto your lips, feeling his chin come to rest on your shoulder. “Hey, angel.” His voice came out in a whisper, it was low and husky like sandalwood. 

“Hey…”

It left you raspy and low, the sunshine that laced your voice like a drug was gone. You were definitely not in a good place right now, and he’s let it go on for so long without doing anything. His thumb rubs against the fabric pressed against your stomach, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. “What’s got you so low?” Under him, he feels your chest rise as you take in a deep breath. You hold it for a second before finally letting it out. 

Your lips feel dry and chapped, and your tongue feels heavy. “I… I don’t really know. I wish I did.” slowly, you lace your fingers with his, earning a gentle squeeze. “I’m usually so good at making it go away or pretending it isn’t there, but today I just can’t. I can’t make it go away, I tried.” Another one of Dante’s arms slips under your waist, pulling you in close. Arms wrapping tightly as he pulls you back against his broad chest. Clearing your throat, you crane your neck to try and look at him. 

“I’m really sorry I didn't make breakfast like I normally do. I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise.”

That broke his heart, the heavy feeling in his chest felt like a sharp and child pain radiating out of his chest and to the rest of his body. Your voice was weighed down by the sense of failure. “Better then what? You don’t have to get up and make breakfast every morning.” Your lips press into a flat line, obviously that didn’t help your guilt very much. “I mean, I appreciate it! But, I'm grown, I can feed myself.” 

“Before we got together you only ate pizza.”

“Actually, sometimes I made Mac and Cheese.”

“That you put hot dogs in!” 

He lets out a little huff. “Not the point, my point is- you don’t have to take care of me. You’re my girlfriend, not my mother.” You let out a whiny little sigh in return. 

“You don’t get it, Dante. That’s my job.” 

He laughs against you, giving your midsection a little squeeze. “Last time I checked, babe, you and I hunt demons for a living.” 

There's a sudden jolt from him as you let go of his hand and roll over in his arms, pressing your face into his chest. You obviously hadn’t thought his witty come back was funny, yet another failed attempt at lightening your mood. “I spent my entire childhood taking care of my mom and little brother. Now that I'm not with them, what good am I if I can’t take care of the ones I love?” A lump forms in his throat. It's thick and feels like lead, like he was about to cough up a wad of bullets. He had been acutely aware of the fact that you had chosen to sever ties with your family, but never why. 

Now his tongue felt heavy, this time with words he did not yet have. He didn’t know what to say, how to lift you up in this situation. He wasn’t you, he didn’t have your mystical power of knowing exactly what to do or say to make someone instantly feel better. Dante doesn’t know how to help with this type of shit, he can’t even deal with his own. Gently, he rubs circles into your back, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Even though he held you in his arms so tightly, he felt so powerless in that moment. So used to being able to save the day, finish the job and make everything okay… he feels weak knowing there's nothing he can do to make this go away. 

“I’m sorry Dante, I didn’t mean to bring up such a heavy subject- I mean, you're my boyfriend, not my therapist.” 

There was a fake laughter in your voice, something you did when you were nervous. You tried to sit up, only to be pulled back down, into a warm and comforting kiss. Lips tremble against his as you whimper into the kiss, breaths becoming short and shaky. Your forehead pressed against his as you tried not to cry, trying to push it down again. It’s not that you never cry, but that you don’t like crying in front of him. 

“Stay with me until I feel better?”

“Always.”

-

Hours passed, the sun fell, he ordered food. He isn’t exactly the most chivalrous man, but he gave up the prospect of pizza and called into your favorite restaurant and ordered for you. Neither of you are particularly righteous, so committing the cardinal sin of eating in bed was nothing for the both of you. Your mood had improved greatly after a day of nothing but gentle affection (*cough cough* and spoiling you *cough cough*). You decided that distraction was better than talking it out and reminding yourself of everything. 

He’d finally got you talking and giggling again as you ate, that sunshiney core coming right back. You were practically glowing again, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. Eventually you had pulled out your phone to show him something, giggling all the way. “So, This stuffed animal brand, right? Personally I dislike them, because they’re so bland looking- But!” Your head teeters from side to side as the page loads. “I saw this post that said ‘find the squishmallow with your significant other’s name’ and I did!” 

“Listen to this… Dante is the tour manager for a metal band, his friend Vlad is the lead singer. Dante loves ghost pepper hot wings and hosts a hot wing cookoff every fall.”

You look up at him with such excitement in your eyes that he didn’t have the heart to tell you,,,, he didn’t know exactly what you were talking about. “And…” You say before showing him the picture. It's a little egg shaped, red and black thing with horns, wings, and a spade tale. Beside it read text ‘Red Devil with Black Belly and Horns’ “Isn’t it so cute, babe? When I saw it I knew I had to have him- but it's out of stock and resellers online are selling it for up to 50 bucks- Hey, where are you going?” 

Shirt and random slightly clean hoodie on and right out the door. He’d remembered seeing store displays for those toys before, and what baby wants- baby gets. 

-

Store 1: Mission Failed

The display was at the very front of the store, and almost completely empty. There were three left in the bottom, none of which looked even remotely close to the picture you showed him. The cashier, who couldn’t have been much younger than him, had been completely zoned out until the 6’4 buff guy stuck his head into a bin of stuffed animals. Most of the people who look for those are teenage girls or people in their 30’s looking to resell them- not the guys built like greek gods. But, for Dante himself, he didn’t much care for the cashiers starring, he just walked out without anything else. 

Store 2: Mission Failed

Local drug store had a small section next to the off-brand kids toys and new age beanie babies. As he walked into the aisle, he unfortunately made eye contact with a very sleepy looking toddler being carried by her dad. Even though he broke the shared gaze, she still stared at him as he disappointedly found the shelf of tiny stuffed animals- much smaller than the ones at the first store. Still no red demon- well, there was, just not the one he was looking for. The toddler had a lollipop in her mouth, and at the sign of his distress she pulled it out and offered it to him. 

He did not take it. 

Store 3: Mission Failed

Closed.

He stared at his reflection in the dark glass, eyes half lidded and lips pressed flat with displeasure. They close at 9:30pm on Saturday night, it’s 10pm. His shoulders drop and his neck goes slack, letting his head drop. Now actually giving this some thought. What the actual hell was he doing? Is he really hunting down a stupid stuffed animal for you? Like, really? You hadn’t even asked him to, you even said you were looking for it yourself! Dante runs his hands through his hair before once again looking at himself in the window. Yes, he was doing this. You want that stuffed animal, what baby wants- baby gets. 

Store 4: Mission Passed

The last store open at 10:30pm that sold those fucking things was the local Walmart. The place is fucking gigantic and bound to have at least one shelf of those things, seeing as how much money you can make off of them. Unfortunately for our hero, he completely underestimated Walmart’s stock. Before him was the same exact tall, cage-like crate they keep the bouncy balls in. It was taller than the shelves and packed to the brim with the egg shaped stuffies in all different sizes. “You have got to be kidding me…” He mutters before reaching in and beginning to dig. 

The colors were all so vibrant, even on the most vibrant of animals. Who knew you could get away with making a tie dye lion? A few times he was so sure he found the thing, only to pull out a crab, a bird, or some red and brown… bear… racoon… thing. Eventually he found himself sprawled out on the Walmart floor, surrounded by various red stuffed animals. A random guy comes up to the display of sheer willpower, chuckling to himself. “Girlfriend?”

“Something like that…”

The man only laughs again, shaking his head again. “You and me both, bud. Good luck.” He says before leaving the half-demon in his self made hell. 

This was a choice he made all on his own, and he was not going back home without that damn demon stuffie. Once again he was shoulder deep in the display, looking for any sign of red- and when he reached the very bottom of the crate thing, he saw it. Red and black. He takes a tight hold and pulls the mass of fabric and fluff out of the pit of softness. There it is. The demon that shares his name. A smile grows as he chokes down some victory laughter. He already looks batshit insane, no need to make it worse. After stuffing the other back into the case, the hunt is finally over. 

It’s kinda funny, when he normally hunts demons he’s the one getting paid- but now he has to pay for hunting one- Wait. God damn it, this sucks. 

It was 11 by the time he checked out. The cashier who rang him up was a middle aged woman who first eyed him up, like creepy older women will do. But then sent him a disapproving glance as he handed her the stuffed animal, letting out an ‘umm’ before getting shut down. “Don’t. Ask.” And that was the end of that. Quicker then it started. 

-

After cleaning up dinner, you had eventually dozed back off waiting for your boyfriend to come back home after he left so abruptly. You were suddenly awoken by something hitting your chest. Your eyes flutter open as you look over the room, the light turning on as he pulls his shirt off and into just a pair of sweatpants. Normally, the sweatpants would have distracted you, but to wake you up, he had pelted you with something.  You look down at the bed, greeted by the large stuffed animal you had been trying to hunt down for a reasonable price for the past two weeks. 

Jaw just about hitting the floor as you shoot up. “Dante- Oh my god! How did you even find him? He’s seasonal!” 

He didn’t answer, just collapsed on the bed with a groan. You give the demon plush a good squeeze before kissing your boyfriend very gently on the cheek. “Thank you baby, I love him” You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he lays there, waiting. You huff and roll your eyes before pressing a  very sweet, passionate, and well earned kiss to his lips. When you part, whispering out. “Thank you for making me feel so much better today, I love you.” Just like that, he grins ear to ear, shooting up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Now that’s more like it!”

[honeydew-mel0n]

Hello.First time requesting so I'mma hop right to it: Anime Dante with a younger s/o who's really cheerful and sweet,but gets kinda bratty when he doesn't pay attention to her or treats her like a kid.

Thx!

Hi hi! I know it's been a while since you submitted this request, but i finally got around to it! I hope it's good enough. :)

Dante x Fem! Reader

Brat

The bedroom window lets in the cool morning air, the soft breeze glides gently down your bare back. The sun had just come up, welcomed by soft cooing from the turtle doves. You knew you’d have to get up sometime, but you didn’t want to just yet. The blanket sat just below the heavy arm draped over your lower back. You became aware that your boyfriend’s face was pressed against the side of your head, his slow warm breath melodically playing against your neck. It was the perfect morning, you could want nothing more than to just stay in this moment forever.

After a few minutes of staring out at the slowly brightening room, you feel Dante begin to stir. His nose buries into your hair, followed by a long and deep breath. His hand, that had been hanging off of you, gently came to grip the soft pudge of your hip before pulling you closer against him. His warm skin pressed against yours that had a slight chill to it from the morning air. You lift your head to turn it, now facing him. Those lovely icy blues were sleepily half-lidded, being able to take you in for the first time today. His lips twitch upwards into a smile, and yours follow suit.

He had just gotten home from a job that took well over a week, to which he couldn’t even stop by a phone booth to give you a call. Dante had completely expected to come back to an empty office and deal with you whining about him being gone the next day. But when he walked through the door, you’d thrown yourself at him. Smothering him with love and affection, practically pawing at him. It was something he could get used to, but knows he shouldn’t. Even with how tired he was, he still gave himself to you with no hesitation.

There was nothing else that he could possibly want to see right now, nothing more than you beside him after a long night of passion. He’d never had hope that angels exist until he was able to wake up next to you. Your skin glows in the virgin light, as if you had an aura of your all of own. It felt so soft and cool against him, like he was laid against the riches silk. Head propping up on your arm, looking down at him with more gentle love then he will ever deserve. It’s almost embarrassing how fast he gives in when you lean in to kiss him. Two pairs of sleep chapped lips pressing together in desperation, as this hadn't been the last thing they did before they even fell asleep.

Your lips part, leaving a gap between them as you press the bridge of your nose into his. Foreheads resting together. He lets out a sigh, whispers out “Good morning to you too, angel.” He feels your nose scrunch against his before your neck crane's back, letting your head fall back against your pillow. The sour look still holding on your features.

“Ugh, Dante! Morning breath!”

“Way to ruin the moment, Babe.”

-

“Come on Dante! You promised you’d buy me a new dress!”

Patty pouts as you walk out of the bathroom. It had taken a while for the two of you to actually get out of bed. Literally it took patty coming over to get the both of you up. Dante doesn’t even give her a glance, flipping the page of the magazine he was ‘reading.’ “I will, next week.” He says in a dismissive tone, only causing the poor girl to become increasingly more annoyed. Her lips puff out, brows knit tightly as you join her beside his dress.

“You’ve been saying that for the last two months. Promised me the same thing too!” You say as you lean your hip on his desk. This time he actually looks up, glancing up at you with a rather annoyed look. Blue eyes practically glowing. “Why don’t you actually make good on your promises? Or do you just not have the money to show for it?” A light giggle leaves you as his hand and magazine drop onto his lap. Tongue sticking out between your teeth as you smile, Dante’s frown only adding fuel to the fire. You hit him where it hurts, and thought you were going to get something out of it.

Dante rises from his seat, dropping the magazine on top of the desk. Eyes lock on you with this sort of knowing, the kind of look a parent give’s their kid when they know they’re up to something- and you definitely were. You had always been quick, sneaky even, and you knew how to get what you wanted. You were a wild card, to be fair that’s what attracted him to you. You are a wild card, and he’s known for making stupid bets. However, at the moment he does not have the energy to deal with whatever you have planned. His shoulders slump, kissing you before heading back to the bedroom.

“Whatever, I'm too tired for this. Don’t burn the place down while I'm asleep.”

“We just got up!” You yell. Knowing him he was just going to lounge around for a few hours to avoid the nagging. Plus, He did that often, barking at you as if you were a child he had to babysit and not his girlfriend. It wasn’t too often, but it was enough for you to notice a pattern. A light groan leaves you before you speak again. “Sleep well then. Come on Patty, I’ll take you out shopping.” Slipping your hand into the girls much smaller one, you walk her out- headed in the direction of town where the best shops were.

It was obvious how upset she was, the side of her head pressed against your arm in attempts to comfort herself. Patty always walked with a purpose, like she knew where she was going. But her steps were slow and she was walking so clumsily that her shoes were getting scuffs from the rough pavement. With a sigh, you release her hand and wrap your arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry sweetie, I know you wanted Dante to take you shopping.”

She stops walking, fits clenching. “It’s just- He promised! I won the bet and he promised to buy me a new dress.” Dante had a tendency of going flat broke the moment he actually got paid for a job- the money rarely ever went for bills or any of the debts he’d racked up. But that wasn’t the problem here, Patty cares deeply about him and it's obviously not just about the promise or the dress. “It’s also not fair that you’re the one buying- I don’t think I even want to anymore if you are.” Your face splits with a smile as you let out a giggle. Pulling something out of your coat pocket.

“Well, be glad I'm not actually paying.” In your hand is a heavy, thick leather wallet. It was worn and probably older than the girl beside you. You shoot her a wink, causing her frown to melt away. “Lady and Trish do this all of the time- why can’t we?”

-

The two of you went to boutique after boutique. You let her pick out dress after dress, matching petite-coats, tights, and even a few pairs of shoes to make up for the scuffed ones. It wasn’t the same as if Dante had actually done what he’d promised, but she didn’t seem to mind that it was you. There was such a brightness to her face, a sparkle in her eyes as you spoiled the hell out of her. Eventually she decided that it was enough shopping for her and that you needed to spoil yourself too.

Surprisingly enough, an 8 year old definitely has an eye for fashion- especially in your style. The two of you spent hours picking out outfits and alike. However, the time came that you had to drop her off, but did so with copious bags on her arms. She walked in looking like the rich wife of some dying senior citizen. You’d always liked having her around, but internally you began to debate on if you should start taking her out on your shopping trips- for some added commentary.

After dropping Patty off you’d stop by some other places to pick out some clothing that wouldn’t exactly be appropriate for Patty to have been present for. Because of the setting sun, on the way back to your boyfriend’s place, you picked up a few things to make dinner- that you so graciously paid for yourself, thinking you owed him at least that much.

You were greeted by the sound of the shower running, the lights off all except for the one in the bathroom like a little beacon. You smiled to yourself as you set all but the bags of food by the door, making your way to the kitchen. It didn’t take very long for you to start cooking, the aroma of the home cooked meal wafting through the building like a wave of childhood memories. A lovely thing to step into after a long hot shower.

The momentary peace he felt was fizzled out by the expensive looking bags sitting beside the door. There you were in the kitchen, cooking something that looked a little too green for his taste- but that he’d shovel down his throat anyways because he loves you. However, he knows what that bulge in your back pocket is, and that all of the charges you made today are not on your own card. Toweling his hair dry, he sits himself in his desk chair, waiting for you to notice his presence.

“Hey baby, how was your nap?” You say in a snarky voice, to no answer. You heard the bathroom door open, you knew he was at his desk- he had to have heard you. Dropping the zucchini in the sizzling pan, you then make everything fit for you to step out. Peaking your head out from behind the door frame, you saw him there. Feet up on the desk, shirtless with a towel wrapped resting on his shoulders, face hidden behind a gun magazine with a highly suggestive cover. “Baby? Dante?” You call out, watch him not move all but to turn the page. Your bottom lip puffs out in a pout. No fucking way he isn’t- hold on? Your voice goes a little bit softer.

“Daddy?”

His chest jumps with a deep breath, lips pressing flat as he tries his best to ignore you. Even bringing the gun mag closer to his face. A sound of displeasure leaves you, you hated when he did this- and it normally means you’ve done something to annoy him- despite having been gone all day. With a huff, you go back to cooking, finishing the dinner you so kindly made and bought for him. You take your time preparing the plate for him, making sure you have everything and it looks nice. Dante never really cared what his food looked like, but you did.

You flip the main office light on before making your way out with two steaming plates of food, setting both on his desk. Before he could even reach for the plate, you place yourself on his lap making him look at you, your lips still pressed into a cute little pout. The magazine falls to the floor. “You aren’t allowed to ignore me. I didn’t even do anything wrong!” His brows raise hand immediately darting to your back pocket, pulling out his wallet.

“Oh yeah, then what’s this?”

Your eyes widen before you try and give him a nervous smile, choking out a laugh. You knew that he would have found out sooner or later, but you thought it would have been just a little later, so you could have time to come up with something to defend yourself with. “Well, you see…” You clear your throat. “If it makes up for it, I made dinner and I got some stuff for you!” his eyes flick up from you at the boutique bags of various pastel colors, before back to you with a cocked brow.

“Well, they’re for me to wear… but the intent is for you.”

He seems to catch your drift immediately, the corner’s of his lips twitch upward. One of his hands sliding up the side of your thigh. “Oh yeah?” He asks in a voice that makes your stomach (and somewhere else) flutter, your face feels warm as you give a small nod. A soft ‘tsh’ leaves him before his hand grips your ass firmly. “Y’know babe, dinner looks great, but I think i’m ready for dessert.” He leans forward a bit, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “So why don’t you get all dressed up for me?”

[honeydew-mel0n]

The Day After

References to sexual acts, but none actually in the fic, a few old jokes at Dante's expense. It's supposed to be 5! Dante, but this gif fits better.

Reader's gender is not mentioned.

Dante x reader

Sure, Valentine’s Day is fun and all- but the day after is so much better. 

You’d surprised your boyfriend with lingerie you totally didn’t steal his card to buy, and he brought you a dozen red long stem roses. He had plans to take you out to dinner- but opted to go with your plan instead, and thus spent the whole night together, pounding you against every surface he possibly could. The next morning, this morning, after a very long snuggle session your lover raced to the closest store and bought a shit ton of discount candy. Aka, the best part of Valentine’s day is the candy sale afterwards. He came home with bags full of various themed candies and treats. 

“Ugh, gross. I hate coconut.” He groans before spitting out the chocolate you had fed him into a tissue. You scoff, picking another chocolate out of the bright red, heart shaped box. 

“It’s not coconut. It’s Nugat, you nugget.” He waves you off, continuing to pick through the other bags of candy. You take a bite of the chocolate in hand, nose scrunching up at the taste as you chew. “Hey babe, do you like Caramel? Because I don't.” He looks over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he eats the half eaten chocolate right out of your fingers. It really wasn’t that big of a deal that he did, the two of you have been together for years now and you practically eat off of each other's plates- even if it’s the same thing on both. Tired of the chocolate, you reach into the pink basket on the bed in front of you, pulling out a heart covered box. “Oh shit, conversation hearts! I haven’t had these since 6th grade.”

As you pop one of the chalky candies into your mouth, you hear Dante fake a gag. “If i wanted to eat something like that I'd eat a handful of tums.” He laughs as his own joke, causing you to slug him in the shoulder. 

“Well, for your information, mister, I like them. They taste like Necco’s.” You look back at the box and smile to yourself. “Yeah, that’s what I miss, Necco Wafers. My grandma used to have them lying around the house.” Dante props his head up on his hand, staring up at you with a face you couldn’t exactly place. “What?”

“Grandma candy, really?” 

Your jaw drops, sucking in a fake surprised gasp. “Not too far off yourself Peepaw! You’re so mean today, especially after I was so nice to you last night.” The both of you stare at each other silently, caught in a bit of a stalemate- Before you both burst into laughter. It took a minute for the two of you to calm down, but he stopped first. Watching you laugh at your dumb joking with soft eyes. 

He’d always liked your laugh, no matter how much you said you hated it. He loves making you laugh, hearing you wheeze, snort, and practically lose yourself over something he said. His favorite was times like this, when you couldn’t stop a brigade of laughter at your comedic back and forth. You were perfect, just like this. Before you he had completely avoided dating and romantic relationships in fear of his possible lover losing their life because of him, that it- that he was too dangerous to love, but now here you are. If he were able to tell his younger self that one day he would be with the person he’s sure is his soulmate, he would never believe himself. 

 He enjoyed the night he spent with you, and more than anything he enjoyed this morning, but part of him regrets not going with his plans. Regretting giving up on what had initially wanted to end the night with. 

“Hey softie, quit looking at me like that or I might just have to kiss you.” You say in a voice that was still teased with giggles, a sweet smile still holding on your lips. Don’t threaten him with a good time. He beats you to the point, getting in close and kissing you gently. Kissing you, just to kiss you. Your lips are just as soft as always, and they taste like chocolate and a vueg other sugar, just as sweet as you. When you break it, the bridges of your noses press together gently. This was a perfect moment, one he wished he could live in forever. 

Suddenly your head whipped back, eyes one again locked on the basket of treats. “Oh, wait! There are pretzels!” He watches as you tear into the bag like what just happened, didn’t. After a couple of seconds of stuffing pretzels into your mouth, you pause, looking back over at your boyfriend. 

“What? They’re x and o shaped.” As if that makes it any better.

“I’m Peepaw, and yet you’re the one getting excited over Necco wafers and Pretzels.” 

You sit up on the bed, putting one hand up as a sign of surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry for being such an old soul. I’ll make it up to you.” You say, holding out your hand for him to give you his. His eyebrow cocks just slightly as he tentatively gives in. You reach into the pretzel bag, polling out one of the o shaped pretzels. “Dante, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?” Sliding the chip onto his ring finger. It only just barely gets over the first knuckle. Fortunately for you- but unfortunately for your joke, he has some pretty thick fingers. 

He laughs a bit to himself before slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you down to the floor with him. “Awe, what? Do you not like it? We can get it resized.” You joke as he places a kiss on your crown, chuckling into your hair. 

“No, no. I love it babe.” He flips his hand over a few times, as if checking it out. His lips buff out as he feigns being impressed, giving a little nod. You giggled to yourself. You loved it when he went along with your bad jokes. Out of the two of you he was much better comedically, quick as a wip and always had a jest or comeback ready. But he would put up and go with your much more lackluster ones, and that's how you really know he loves you. “It’s nice. It just means I'll have to get rid of my side of the set I already have.” You look up at him, brow twisting with confusion. 

“Dante, what?”

He looked off for a second, with a face that read ‘now is a good time as ever’. The pretzel is flicked off of his hand as he reaches into the pocket of his pants. Your heart begins to pound in your chest. Wait. Wait. Wait. For a second, you could swear everything was slower as he pulled the box wrapped in black velvet out of his pocket. Your brain stalls, unable to fully process it as he thumbs open the box. Revealing a glittering engagement ring. The cut was visibly older, possibly older than him, but was in perfect condition. Might have never been worn. 

You pull back out from under his arm, eyes continually flicking from the ring to him. Your hand clasped over your mouth loosely. Vision slowly became blurry and mixed together like a watercolor, and you couldn’t tell if you were crying or your eyes had begun to water from wide they were stretched. “...no- Really?” There was disbelief in your voice, trailed by excitement. Your chest begins to jump with short and deep gasps, his arm squeezes your waist gently for support. Your name leaves his mouth in the most gentle tone, like he only wanted you to hear. 

“Marry me?”

[honeydew-mel0n]

"Dante likes strawberries, so Vergil likes blueberries..." Vergil is his own person, and should be reflected as such. Anyways,,,,,,

Vergil would like anything flavored with Vanilla. I mean fresh Vanilla or Vanilla bean flavored. It's simple, yet so sweet and flavorful. His favorite teas would be a black tea base with Vanilla and something else to give it a smokey flavor. He'd take his tea with two cubes of sugar. Black tea can tend to be bitter, and the sugar helps the Vanilla come through.

If you were to kiss him, I think his lips would taste like a Vanilla and Almond pastry.

[honeydew-mel0n]

Nero: It's not new! I'm gonna look shit up in the encyclopedia and prove it!

Nico: Don't mind Nero everyone, he's just got a little sand in his vagina.

Nero: There's no sand in my vagina!

[honeydew-mel0n]

Y/n: Oh, one more thing before you go!

Vergil: yes?

Y/n: Take this! *pulls a whole domesticated rat out of their pocket and puts it in his hand* :)

[honeydew-mel0n]

opinions on hamsters?

Huh?

[honeydew-mel0n]

Okay so, what if the Sparda boys got in a rlly big fight with their teen daughter (the reader) and later that night she comes into their room crying and asking to sleep with them for the night?

If not, that's alright. <3

Of course! also, I'm really sorry it's taking so long with requests. I love writing and I love DMC, I just don't have the same drive I used to.

Feminine terms and she/her pronouns are used for the reader.

Spardads after a big fight with their daughter

Dante

It has always been hard for Dante to get a good night’s sleep, there’s always something to keep him up. Whether it be an actual threat to you or him, or his own self destructive thoughts. Tonight though, it doesn’t feel like any other demons are near and he’s so tired that his brain sounds like static. The blankets are tossed around him and he is so close to the edge of falling asleep that it would be cruel if the world kept him from sleeping now. Everything arounds him starts to fade, his hearing is muffling, and he’s peeking over the edge.

That is until there’s a soft… “Daddy?”

His eyes shoot open, momentary irritation is fizzled out by the memories of the current situation. There, in the doorway of his bedroom, you stand holding a pillow and a small fuzzy blanket you’ve had for a few years now. You were well into your teen years, but all he could see was his baby daughter there in the doorway. Your wide eyes were full of tears, face puffy from the crying, hiccupping breaths bouncing from you as you desperately tried to hold them back. “Oh kiddo.” he says in a light and groggy voice. You don’t even have to ask, having done this so many times while you were still in single digits.

Dante lifts a blanket and there you come, rushing over to the bed in such a hurry that you drop the blanket you had brought. He engulfs you in his arms, pulling you into a warm and safe embrace. You bury your face into his chest like you would’ve when you were little, when you thought he was your only line of defense from the monster outside your window… or under your bed. He feels you hiccup against him, your voice coming out garbled, but eventually some of it makes sense. “I’m sorry Daddy, I really am.” his hand ran gently over your hair, smoothing it down.

You two had never had a fight that big before, of course you’ve had fights but overall you got along. You two might as well be each other’s best friend. Of course he was still a little frustrated from earlier, but he couldn’t be mad at you when you’re like this. “I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t hate you, I was just mad.” You say in a broken little voice, and with that his chest deflates with a sigh.

“I know, Pumpkin.” His arms tighten around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know you didn’t, you’re not allowed to hate me yet.” There is a gurgled giggle from you followed by a loud sniffle, so he continues. “Once you move out you can hate me all you want.” That seems to help you calm down a bit, because your crying stopped pretty quickly. You peel your wet face from his shirt and he looks down at the wet mark that looks like a partial side profile of your face. He huffs out a sigh, but you can’t help but giggle as you try to wipe the wetness from your face.

“Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?”

Your voice is much calmer, but it still sounds so broken and soft. Even if it hadn't been, he’d still do anything you asked. “Yeah, of course.”

Vergil

Getting in some reading before bed was something very common for Vergil, and he didn’t like being disturbed during this time- especially after such a frustrating altercation earlier. But, his peace would be disturbed, as always. There’s a loud knock on his bedroom door, and a soft growl leaves him in frustration. “Come in.” The door opens and you walk in with your head down. Vergil closes his book and sits it in his lap, waiting for your apology. You approach the side of his bed, and it’s then he notices the shine of tear tracks on your now puffy cheeks.

You fiddle with your fingers and keep your lips sealed tightly. You were too much like him, stubborn and had a hard time admitting that you were wrong. His brow furrowed, lips pressing into a flat line with displeasure. “Well?”

You take a deep breath then let it out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. You were right.” It was very rare for him to be wrong in fights, because when you two did fight, it was over your safety. To which, he was almost always right. However, being right in these arguments didn’t add to his ego like any other would, it just leaves him frustrated that he even had to debate it with you- and you upset. He watches as you begin to pick at your fingernails- a nervous habit of yours that often leads to picking at them until they bled- or picking at your skin. Slowly, your father sits up, gently encapsulating your hands with his. Feeling your fingers twitch under his.

He lets out a soft ‘hmm’ before speaking. “I thought we were over the picking.” Vergil looks at you dead on, but you keep your eyes down. Giving only a shrug in response. Tears well up in your eyes as shame wells up inside, you’ve already started a fight with him, and now he’s caught you in your nervous habit that you swore up and down that you broke yourself of. Just a mass of disappointment. Vergil had never been the one to know how to deal with crying, that was until you came around. With you, suddenly everything else was unimportant and he had to learn how to better himself to take care of you.

Gently, he brings his other hand to your cheek just before the tears begin to fall. One slips down and finds its way to where his hand connects to your cheek. Your father was quick witted and anywhere else would not have any problems with reaming someone for crying. “I am not mad at you, little one.” Without hesitation you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, face burying into his shoulder. He’s never been one for a lot of physical affection, but all guards are down now. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto the bed with him and holding you close.

“Papa, can I sleep with you tonight?”

“...Alright, just tonight.”

Nero

The bedroom was dark and the house was silent, but he couldn’t sleep. Nero hates getting in fights with you- or any other kids really. But you’re his daughter, and there’s a sense of failure he feels when he makes you upset. However, there is a part of him that is still frustrated over the argument- over what you did that started the argument. You went out of your way to do something reckless without even thinking about it, without thinking about what would have happened to you… You acted too much like him.

In the silence, he hears the light padding of feet coming down the hallway. He sits up a bit, not sure what to expect when you open the door. From the hallway light, the moment the door opens he notices your puffy face and the sound of you sniffling- you’d been crying. It’s then he sits up fully, patting the bed in front of him. Slowly, you close the door softly enough not to make any noise before scuttling over to the bed. The two of you sit in silence for a while, your dad giving you the time to gather yourself. Your chest deflates with a light sigh before you start.

“Dad, I’m really sorry.” Your voice came out in a whisper, but he could hear the remorse. You’d always been a good kid, too good. Even putting yourself in harm's way for others, but you were also quick to see the negative aspects of your actions. “You were right, I acted too recklessly and… I was wrong and should have known better. This doesn't make up for it, but I am really sorry.” Your voice cracks a bit and a single tear slips down your cheek despite you fighting the urge to cry more. Slowly, as not to startle you, he lifts his hand to wipe away the wetness from your cheeks with his knuckles. You lean into his touch, finding comfort from him even in such a tough moment.

“I know, and I'm not mad at you.” Your eyes widen as his hand flattens to cup your face. “To be honest, the part of me that does this crap for a living is really proud of you and what you did out there.” He says, his voice is a bit higher but is weighed down. Brows knit with concern. “But the part of me that’s your dad- that loves you- is… concerned…”

“Afraid?” You add in, which makes him stop for a second- to accept it.

“-Afraid that you’ll keep doing this, that you’ll get hurt, or worse.” His thumb brushes over the ball of your cheek so tenderly that it makes you want to cry more. He lets out a broken little sigh, and you watch as his bottom lip trembles just a little bit. “If you want to help out, fine, I'll start training you when you’re a little older… but I can’t keep letting this happen, bug.” For a moment, you swore you saw some tears well up in his eyes as well. Nero’s other hand comes to hold the other side, holding his world in both hands. Giving your puffy face a gentle and small squish. “Promise me that until then, until I can train you, whenever you are in that situation, you will get yourself the hell out of there- no matter what.”

“I promise, Daddy.”

The little add on broke him a bit, but he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug. “That’s my girl.” He says just below a whisper, but loud enough you could hear. You hold onto him tightly, your hands gripping tightly to his shirt as he rocks you both from side to side. You had been so sure that he would be mad at you, that he was disappointed. It felt good to be wrong. It felt good to know that he cares this much. “Lemme guess, wanna sleep in here tonight.” He feels you nod against his shoulder and he lets out a gentle laugh in return.

[smolspoopy]

[honeydew-mel0n]

Hi, I was wondering if your requests are open? If not, sorry to bother you! :)

No, requests are not open at the moment.

I'm still trying to work on the few I have in my inbox right now, but I've had very little motivation to write for the last few months. I dont know how long it'll take me to finish out the ones my inbox, but hopefully by then I'll have more motivation to write and I'll open up requests again.

[honeydew-mel0n]

I know Halloween is over but what do you think Dante and vergil would do, not really caring for Halloween, walking in on his s/o dressed as an exorcist or nun out of irony?

Requests are closed.

[honeydew-mel0n]

Im not the vampire au anon, but i was wondering if you could please write for Vergil next when you have the chance? Thank you and your writing is amazing!

Sure!

-

Vampire Vergil (With a human S/O)

To start...

Those born with Vampirism- that being passed down from one of their parents- will stop physically ageing around the ages of 25 to 30. It just depends on the person. However those who were turned will stop aging at whatever age they are turned. But despite this, until either have their first drink of human blood, they will remain a fledgling and will have extremely dampened abilities.

Vampirism isn't a life after death, It’s an eternal life of having to live off of the life force of other humans. Those who are turned, are done so by somehow consuming a Vampire’s blood. Vampires are not harmed by garlic or holy water, but are by silver. The sun can harm them, but not in the traditional way. They can show up in photography and mirrors. They do not sleep as often as humans, but do eventually need sleep.

Vampirism causes the person infected to have inhuman abilities, of course, but at the price of someone else's lifeblood. Silver is a pure metal that can be used against vampires to harm them, a sharpened silver rod is the most common tool a hunter will have with them at all times. Because of the purity of silver, it will cause the flesh of someone with Vampirism to burn.

The sun however is a bit more complicated, Vampires can exist in the day but the sun exposure will make them tired and sluggish. Damping their abilities. Their skin can be incredibly sensitive (no matter the skin color of the vampire), and prolonged sun exposure without protection can lead to a type of “Sunburn.” If the person is lucky, it will look and/or feel like a normal sunburn would. But if it goes on longer it will result in something ranging from a second to a fourth degree burn.

To avoid the burns while still living a life, Vampires will wear clothes covering as much body as possible, as well as sunglasses and hats. I.E suits, long coats, leather biking clothing, tights, sweatpants and sweatshirts. They will look less like the typical Bram Stoker or Anne Rice vampire, and more like an exhausted white collar worker or a typical college student.

Back to the Spardas.

Nothing much in the twins' birth would change much. Their vampirism comes from Sparda, and his having Eva as a human. The twins would seem like normal human children, their exposure to the sun resulting in light sunburns, and being able to eat and digest human food with no problem.

However, instead of demons attacking, I'd imagine it would be frightened and/or enraged humans- all of which were raised to this attack by their clergy. The church having received an "anonymous" message, alerting them of the families heritage.

Eva being executed for procreating with such a creature, even the mere act of finding out one exists and not reporting it being a punishable offence.

Leaving the twins orphans, separated, and traumatized in a world that will stop at nothing to kill them.

Vergil...

Vergil unlocked his full abilities and had his first taste of human blood the same night his mother died.

He was already upset and frustrated with his brother that night, and then he was recognized by a small few of the humans who came for his family. They had quickly overpowered him, as he still had the strength of a small human boy. He called out for help- for his mother to come save him. Eventually, he came to the same miss conclusion as every other, that she had abandoned him. In the midst of the chaos and his struggling one of his human attackers cuts themselves on a weapon, not enough to warrant too much immediate concern- but more than enough to bleed.

Like that, within him he feels something change. Like tight bonds being unraveled. In all of that pain and fear, momentarily Vergil suddenly feels hungry, more so than he has ever felt. His entire body burned more with it. I said momentarily because with a sudden burst of adrenaline, he left from their hold and onto that person. Tearing into their throat and feasting like a ravenous dog.

He doesn’t know exactly how, but he was able to take down the rest of them. Once they were surely dead, he ran. He just ran and kept running until his body made him stop, vomiting up some of the blood he had overeaten.

However, he did not leave the attack completely without damage. Although his awakening did activate vampiric healing, one of them had used a blade of silver on him, leaving him with a permanent scar stretching and curving from mid-sternum to his hip. It had been an attempt to cut open his chest, but the person only broke into his hypodermis. This was the first of many scars to come.

When he’d found a place to recuperate and wash the blood from his skin and clothes, he was finally able to notice just how strong he felt. His body was filled with energy the likes of which he had never felt before, he was so much physically stronger, faster, with sharper eyesight, hearing, and smell. His body felt as though it were vibrating with the newfound strength. In that moment, Vergil felt as though he were a god.

With how much he ate that night, it took a good three weeks for him to feel hungry again. Which he found to be very convenient. He hid himself within the dark alleys, watching other Vampires feed before going hunting himself. Vergil always has been a fast learner, so he picked up quickly on what others did- And when the time finally came that he both needed to eat, and was sure he was ready.

His first hunt went better than anyone would expect for a kid of his age. He waited late into the night, and surprisingly found easy prey on people walking home from working late. Turns out, humans will come to the cries of another person, especially a child.

He takes one victim at first, that being all he needs to be full at that moment. But as he grows, he starts to take more victims in one night. Changing tactics is surprisingly easy for him once he outgrows them. After all, why use old methods when overpowering your prey from the start is so much easier. (Height advantage)

Once, however, one of his hunts failed horribly, causing him to flee the town immediately. He had zeroed in on prey and once she got close enough, he went in for the strike. Vergil was much larger, almost a man at this point. He had held the young woman down- but could not bring himself to feed. His teeth were bared as she begged below him to let her go. Her voice was soft despite her terror, her long blond hair, blue eyes, and warmly sharp features cut into him like a shard of a silverback mirror. His brain fogged as she clutched her swollen stomach, begging him to let her live for her children. That she was pregnant with twins and they needed to live.

He did, he let her go without even meaning to. In his momentary dissociation, she was able to slip from his grasp and escape to help. It wasn’t even the basic facts about her. He did not care about her looks or pregnancy. It was something he is not yet ready to confront. But sometimes he thinks about her, rage boiling up within him. He sometimes considers hunting her down and making her pay.

Vergil quickly came to the conclusion that humans were inferior to those with Vampirism, coming to see his human prey no more than we would cattle just as quickly.

He’s very well known within vampiric undergrounds, not by name, but when you mention specifics… everyone knows who you’re talking about. Vergil prefers to stay out of both human and vampire spaces, however, the second is a little harder for him. He finds dealing with the draining effects that sunlight has on his body is wasted energy, and willingly walks and lives during the night.

He never had been an early bird or a day person anyways. But streets crawl with supernatural beings once the sun is set, and Vergil is not opposed to slaying his own kind as well- but finds those who out other Vampires to human “organizations” to be cowards.

Vergil hardly stays in one place for long, really tries hard not to. But if, for some reason, he likes a city or town he will move around the town itself. Sometimes killing just outside of city limits to spice things up. He will also go back somewhere if he needs something, or believes he’s being followed/tracked and needs to offset his tracks.

With a human S/O...

Let’s be very clear about this. The only reason you are alive is because he needed something from you. At least, that was how it started. Before you even met, he watched you for weeks to make sure you wouldn’t be quick to squeal. To his luck you were no snitch, welcoming him and his needs with open arms. Your home became a safe space for the time being, and you didn’t seem to mind when he came to you reeking of blood.

Vergil had planned everything out, the process of getting what he needed… and exterminating you once it’s all over. But, something within himself changed. He doesn’t know how or what about you made that change- but it did. It’s not like he knew what he was feeling either, just suddenly the thought of hurting you or being around you made him feel. Really feel. After years he finally felt something other than anger, resentment, and hunger. Despite not having what he needs from you yet, he’ll disappear for a week or so, completely unsure about what to do about this. 

Once he returns he is incredibly quiet, more so than normal, and around much more often. This period of time is just him trying to figure out why you make him feel this way.

He will become extremely protective and will follow you when you walk anywhere in the dark. Becoming incredibly angry when anyone shows interest in you. You do eventually notice, it being obviously frustrating, and taking your own time to note all of his actions before confronting him.

“Well? Explain yourself.” You say firmly. After learning that he will only listen to you if you are firm and stand your ground. Vergil’s skin feels hot to the touch and his heart pounds in his chest, eyes glaring down at you, the frustration and slight confusion that overwhelm his senses leave him unable to rush into the actions his practical thinking wants him to do. It's weakness that he feels. He feels weak and it’s all your fault. A creature so much lower than him. His eyes scan you up and down, features twitching with a slowly overboiling anger. But you stood as you needed to, refusing to break and let him go- even though he might just decide to take your life here and now. 

“You can’t just come into my home, act like this, then refuse to answer. You’re acting like a child.” You’ll be the first to admit how whiney you sounded, but you had a good cause. This also made you feel bad, like you were doing something wrong by calling him out on his possessive behavior. 

“I am quiet because I have no answer for you, Child.” It leaves him with a low voice, one thick with sap sticky venom. “I have wasted my time trying to understand this myself, this newfound weakness, and it all ties back to you. You are the reason I’ve strayed from my path and stooped so low as to- to protect something so weak.” His brows were knit with all the tightness of steel cables, ones that were getting closer and closer to snapping. He steps forward in defense, you take one back to match.

“You’re the one who caused this, you make me sick and warm every time I am around you. I want nothing more than to kill you, but I-” His voice catches in this throat. His words flow through you, filtering from Vergil speak to practical thought. A candle flicks alight in your head, mouth moving with the forethought.

 “Do you have feelings for me?” 

Neither of you can track exactly how it happened, how he had finally decided to make you his. It was just decided one day, and neither of you looked back. 

Vergil doesn’t understand how relationships function, the only thing he has to go on is what he remembers of his parents. So it’s a learning experience for him, and a frustrating one at that. He has incredibly strict boundaries, and now to let them all down- it’s not something he was expecting. Especially watching you lower yours for him. You have to be slow with how you progress the relationship, but don’t make it obvious you’re trying to teach him something, he will get offended. 

This is the longest he’s stayed in one place or been around one singular person in years, so he isn’t very good at staying around for long periods of time. To keep from being tracked via his feeds, sometimes he will leave for another city and find a victim there. He will come back to you reeking of blood, but you act just the same. Welcoming him with open arms and never being bothered by the rich scent of blood. 

You’d think that being the person he is, he’d leave most nights while you sleep- having nothing to keep him entertained. But that isn’t the truth. As long as he’s not out hunting he will stay with you until you wake up. He doesn’t lay with you most of the time, but he will sit beside your bed and well after you fall asleep he takes your hand. He can feel the blood coursing through the appendage-smell it through your skin-, slowed in your sleeping state. Vergil will mostly be focused on his senses to keep you safe, keeping his mind occupied, but sometimes- as with everyone- his mind can slip. 

Vergil wonders, if anything were to happen where he was starved- in that state, could he hold himself back? Would he not even think, choosing to hurt and/or kill you? 

Vergil sees himself as your protector and is in a constant state of worry that if there is ever a lapse in his vigilance, that you would pay the ultimate price in return.

This is why his “resting period” is so bothersome to him. Before, it was always frustrating because he never knew if he would have a safe place to rest- now that he can guarantee it- He is essentially comatose with no way to wake up until his body feels fully rested, there is no way for him to protect you like that. Which will usually lead to him putting off and sometimes outright refusing to go down. Like a bratty toddler. 

And like a toddler, no nap leads to a very cranky Vergil. He’s stubborn and won’t take any babying what-so-ever, so don’t even try to coddle him when he’s like this. 

The best course of action is this: Let the night come and go to bed, Vergil will come to your side as always. Then invite him to lay with you, afterall, he’s done it before- and you want him to hold you. He will deny you, but then you give him a pleading look that makes his heart feel a way he can’t explain- eventually he will cave, crawling into bed with you. And like that, you got him. He falls asleep quicker than you would ever expect, but with the added exhaustion, it won’t surprise you. 

After a good few days, he will awake after being perfectly taken care of- with you out waiting for him. 

If you do truly mean something to him, he considers turning you- but every time he means to bring it up, it always feels wrong. Despite seeing himself and other vampires as superior to humans, the idea of asking you feels as though he is asking for your permission to rob you of something you hold dearly. If he is not killed, he lives a life interrupted by human weaknesses, there will come a point where he gets sick to his stomach at the idea of a life without you. But, for now, he will hold his tongue.