Dante & Vergil with an s/o who doesn't enjoy their birthday
Pairings: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader
Summary: Unspoken rule of the Devil May Cry: no one talks about your birthday. You’ve always been very adamant on disliking celebrations and wanting to treat it as just a normal, uneventful day. And your lover respects that… To some degree. After all, he just wants you to be happy.
Author’s notes: Yours truly birthday is coming up and, as you can guess, I don’t like it – for a myriad of personal reasons. If you’re anything like me 1 – I’m so sorry and I wished you could enjoy it better and 2 – I hope this can at least bring you something nice in that time 🖤
DISCLAIMER: The Vergil one gets very emotional and a little heavy. Also, there’s a whole thing of him giving his s/o a little bracelet with his name on it: I now realized some people might read it as a toxic/marking kind of thing, but it ISN’T. My parents had a very old people custom of giving their baby a gold bracelet with the baby’s name engraved on it. I still have mine, as my sister has hers, and I thought it’d be right up Sparda and Eva’s alley to do something like that. I wanted Vergil to give his s/o something special; and if it was me, I would give my partner my bracelet with my name I got when I was born. Not a property thing, but as a piece of something so intimate to me. Sappy, I know.
Dante
If Dante knew you well, he was certain you would drown yourself in work until you passed out on the shop’s couch as soon as you crossed the heavy Devil May Cry doors.
It had been a very long time Dante didn’t celebrate his birthday – but, once, he did tell you when he was born, and you quietly appeared with enough so just the two of you could celebrate.
“Guess what I got for us tonight…?” You had a satisfied smile on your face, as you placed two boxes of pizza on the desk while Dante curiously watched you from his chair.
“Pizza, from the likes of it…!” He giggled, taking his feet of the desk and leaning on it – as you did the same, your face close to his. And that beautiful, smart, devilish and loving smile on your lips. Dante could kiss them to oblivion.
“A very special kind of pizza. C’mon, cowboy, humor me.” You tilted your head, playing a little with his strands of hair. Dante smiled but he did furrow his brows a bit – now that his hair was a little longer, you took a liking to playing with his locks; but only when you were in flirty mode.
And that was a little rare.
“Special, huh? Let’s see ‘bout that…”
Opening the pizza box, Dante found a pizza packed with chocolate and sprinkles of the same kind, covered in sliced strawberries and having some of them spell ‘Happy Birthday, Dante”, with a little happy face on the side.
You wished you could keep his shocked expression etched in your mind forever. The way he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, completely at loss of words – which was quite rare for him – made your heart soar and a bright smile shine on your lips.
“You did this for me, babe…? C’mon, you shouldn’t have…”
And you could swear those were tears marinating in his sky-blue eyes.
“I should, and I will. Every year, til the end of time.” You giggled, leaning even further on the desk so you could grab his dumbfounded face and place a passionate kiss on those beautiful lips. “Happy birthday, Dante. I love you, big guy.”
“Well, I love you too, babe. This…” And he looked down at the pizza again, with that happy little strawberry face smiling at him. “This is nice. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. You’re stuck with this forever now.”
And Dante really hoped he was.
He knew very well why you didn’t take a liking to your own birthday, and, honestly, the first time he heard about it… Well, to say it was one of the things that fueled his Devil Trigger every time he remembered it, was an understatement.
Dante just crossed his arms and listened to it seriously, as he always did, and gave it the solemn treatment it deserved, but his heart boiled. If he could argue with every single person in the world that made you dislike the day you were supposed to celebrate your own life, he would; but, unfortunately, he couldn’t.
Whenever he complained about it, though, you pointed out his own disdain for his birthday – and he always said it was different. The irony wasn’t lost in you, but, perhaps, you really deserved each other in all aspects of life – even that one.
Dante sighed while reading the brownie powder cake mix packet, leaning on the kitchen counter. It had been a week you’ve been telling him you wanted to do your brownie recipe – which was, in fact, just a brownie cake mix you added your own spin to – but everything had been so hectic you didn’t have the time to work on it.
Given it was your birthday, Dante was now on a mission to prepare your brownies, that you wanted so bad to eat but couldn’t prepare yet.
“Hey, Dante? Got your call, I’m here…!” Nero’s voice echoed from the shop, as the kid quickly came in through the front door. “Lady’s helpin’ y/n with the job and… Where the hell are you…?”
“Back here, kid…!” Dante screamed back, hearing Nero immediately approaching with his heavy combat boots.
“Lost somethin’ in there…?” Nero’s head came through the door, one eyebrow raised. “You’re really not the kitchen type, ya know.”
“Hey, we all have our moments.” Dante shrugged, smiling back at his nephew. Nero furrowed his brows, fully entering the kitchen.
“So. Nico took Lady and y/n to work, like you asked.” The kid crossed his arms, curiously eyeing the package in Dante’s hands. “You said you needed my help? What’s up?”
“Bet’cha know how to make one of these.” And Dante threw the cake mix over to Nero, who caught it immediately. And furrowed his brows even further upon reading what it was. “Must’ve watched your girl doin’ it, right?”
“Kyrie doesn’t really use cake mixes… She likes doin’ everythin’ from scratch, ya know? Says it tastes better.” Nero raised his aquamarine eyes from the packet to Dante – who was still leaning on the kitchen counter, with his arms crossed. And Nero was completely lost on what was going on. “Wait. Lemme get this straight. You called me here to help you… With a cake mix?”
“It’s y/n’s birthday. I wanna make ‘em somethin’ special.” Dante now had a gentle smile on his lips as it seemed like Nero had a whole bucket of water dropped on him – and his eyes carried shock alongside horror.
“Y/n’s… Birthday?! I didn’t know that!! I didn’t even…!”
“Ei, chill out, kid. Y/n doesn’t like talkin’ ‘bout it, I’m the only one who knows.” Dante sighed, taking the cake mix from his nephew and putting it back on the kitchen counter, trying to at least start doing something. “I figured I could trust you with that.”
“Oh. Oh. Yeah, well… Yeah. You can trust me, just…” And Nero was the pure representation of confusion. As his uncle walked around the kitchen gathering the ingredients, he tried to make sense of what was going on. “I, hmmm. Y/n’s pretty private ‘bout some things, huh…?”
“They sure are, kid.”
Dante didn’t even look back to answer Nero, making him know that was as far as he would go into that subject – it also made him know you must have had a pretty good reason to avoid it so much. And that stung Nero’s heart.
“Hmmm… Says here ya need a bakin’ tray. Where can I find one of those…?”
“Under the sink. I dunno which one y/n uses.” Dante pointed at a small cabinet, to which Nero immediately walked over too.
“Don’t worry, Kyrie told me some stuff ‘bout bakin’ trays. You gotta know how to choose the size…!”
Dante couldn’t help but smile, watching his nephew promptly helping without even asking more about it. Nero understood, as Dante knew he would. After all, he had something different than everyone at the Order of the Sword, something Dante sensed years ago just by watching him from afar – and it wasn’t the blood of Sparda they shared.
Nero did inherit his power from Vergil – but he got his heart from Eva.
*
It had been a long day.
You could feel every single muscle in your body starting to complain – and you knew it was just a matter of time before you started feeling the aftermath of that day’s job.
Still, it wasn’t that bad. You could at least take your mind off things and keep yourself busy, without sulking in self-pity or just sitting around, staring at the wall, waiting for the day to be over.
You did need a shower, though.
Suddenly, the peace and quiet of the Devil May Cry at the beginning of the evening was disrupted by the sound of, well, everything violently clashing in the kitchen.
You immediately took your hand to one of your guns, ready to shoot.
“I told you not to leave it there, kid…!”
“Well, your bossin’ around ain’t helpin’!”
That was… Nero? And Dante? Arguing in the kitchen…? You narrowed your eyes, putting your gun away. Whatever the hell those two were doing, you were certain the kitchen would be looking like the aftermath of a battlefield.
“Hmmm… Dante? Nero? Everything alright in there…?” You asked as you approached with caution.
After all, the only reason you could think of for those two being in the kitchen was demons. And kitchen demons were a very annoying kind.
“Y/n…!” You heard both of them almost screaming at the same time, and a cacophony of noises – as if they were trying to get everything back in place before you could get there.
“Don’t come in! Everythin’ is fine, babe!” And that was Dante, with a nervous laugh, forcing his laid-back everyday tone – but you knew him quite well to know everything was not fine.
“You don’t need to come here…! We got everythin’ under control!!” And Nero followed, as bad as his uncle in pretending you shouldn’t be worried.
You and Kyrie constantly talked about how similar they were in that aspect.
“Are we having a kitchen demon infestation…? Because if we are, I swear…” You sighed, already dreading the nightmare that would be to get those creatures out of there.
“No demonic infestations, of that you can be sure!” And Nero almost jumped out of the kitchen – you even had suspicions Dante pushed him out while locking himself in. The kid in front of you had a big smile on his face, not wearing his coat and…
“Is that choco…?”
Before you could finish speaking, though, he took you in a tight hug, lifting you from the floor as he did so. You couldn’t help but yelp and hold him tightly back, with your feet dangling from side to side as Nero gently swayed you.
“Hmmm, are you ok? Do you have a fever…? Is that how half-demons react when they’re sick?” Of course, you couldn’t refrain from teasing him a little bit. Nero was one to be honest about his feelings, but not so upfront like that.
Although, he was a hugger, just like Dante. You just had to unlock that level of intimacy and trust with him.
“Ei, I’m just happy to see you! Can’t hug my fave devil hunter anymore?” Nero swayed you a little more until placing you back on the floor – that proud smile still on his lips.
“Oh, I’m your favorite now?” You laughed back, making him giggle a little bit with that slightly embarrassed demeanor he always got when he was afraid of having been a little too much. “You just gave me material to tease everyone in the shop for eternity now, kid. They will never have a single day of peace after today.”
“Well, what can I say. You are the most competent out of the bunch in here.”
“Ya know, I can hear ya, kid…!” And once again you heard Dante’s voice from the kitchen, having your attention back to that.
“So, what’s going on? You two were locked in there and there’s some chocolate in your face, kid.” You finally pointed out, making him immediately search for it to rub it out.
So far, they were doing a very poor job at lowering your suspicions.
“Is the kitchen ok…?”
“Fine. You don’t have to worry, c’mon…!” Nero physically turned you around, gently pushing you away from the kitchen.
“But…”
“Ya know, you’re kinda needing a shower.”
“Are you calling me stinky, kid…?!” You couldn’t help but to try to turn around and argue. Now he managed to divert your attention – and Nero had to laugh about it.
“I mean, you’re covered in demon blood…”
“You guys always come back worse! You…!”
“Hey, it’s just like you always tell me…” And now, he had the same playful voice he used with the children whenever he was teasing them to get them to do something. “A shower doesn’t hurt…!”
“Oh, you’re the worst…!” You had to roll your eyes – but you also had to smile upon hearing Nero laughing behind you. When you got to the foot of the stairs, you turned around; going up one step to at least be a little taller next to him. “I am going to take a shower, but only because I need to. When I come back, you guys better tell me what in the hell is going on.”
“Don’t’cha worry ‘bout it, y/n. We will.” He winked back at you, watching dutifully as you went upstairs to make sure you wouldn’t come back as soon as he turned his back. “Stinky hunter…!”
“Oh, get outta here…!” You rolled your eyes, hearing as Nero laughed on his way back to the kitchen.
You did smile, though. It was nice having him around.
*
“Oh, hey there, cowboy. Finally decided to leave your mystery kitchen to say hi to me?”
As you went down the last steps of the stairs, still drying your hair with the towel, you finally saw Dante – putting away a few things in that mess of a side table near the couch, so he could fit better something that looked like a baking tray.
You did smell sugary treats, but something inside you kept telling it was nothing but your delirious mind making up a few things.
“Well, now that you got me here, you’ll have my undivided attention, babe…!” Dante opened his arms, flashing one of those rather convinced smiles he always did when you said something that indicated how much you liked being around him.
“Oh, what a joy.” You had all the intention to make it sound as a chore, joking around as you always would, but the smile on your face denounced how much you really liked to be with Dante.
As soon as you reached him, you threw the towel on the couch and pulled him for a rather long kiss. He expected you to kiss him, yes, but not for that long – almost as if you wanted to forget time was a concept and just enjoy his company.
Dante’s heart would always melt when realizing that.
“Please tell me we don’t have an infestation in the kitchen.” You had your eyes closed, whispering those words while barely separating from Dante’s lips; so much he could still feel them brushing on his, your hot breath warming his own.
“No infestation. That, I promise.” Dante’s voice was a little lower, with a giggle in his tone, while his hands rested on your hips and mindlessly caressed you.
You had an infestation once. Your fears were very much valid.
“So…” You sighed, finally opening your eyes and leaning back a little bit – sill in his arms, now taking your time to look into those wonderful sky-blue eyes you loved so much. And Dante loved how you liked brushing his rogue strands of hair away from them so you could gaze at him better. “What gives?”
“Got somethin’ for ya.” Dante placed another quick kiss on your lips, letting you go as he walked over to the bar and leaned on it, nodding at the table he was organizing as you arrived. “Kid had to go back home, but he also left his regards.”
When you looked down on the table, you found your old and battered baking tray with a perfectly good batch of brownies. They weren’t cut in squares, though, because on top of it, there were a bunch of mini-marshmallows spelling “happy birthday, y/n” with a smiley face underneath it.
A little wonky and somewhat melted and charred, but still.
You furrowed your brows as a smile colored your lips – and Dante himself had to mirror your smile as he saw your eyes fill up with tears; even if you would deny it to death if he pointed it out. All the time, he watched you; how you seemed so taken aback and emotional over a, quite frankly, very underwhelming batch of brownies.
“Mini-marshmallows were Nero’s idea. I swear that kid has so much of Vergil in him.” Dante still had his arms crossed, casually leaning on the bar, as if it was just another day in the shop. As you raised your glossy eyes to him, he opened a bright smile – one you loved seeing in him. “Happy birthday, babe.”
You smiled, placing your hands on your hips and shaking your head, while closing your eyes as you did so – or else, your tears would go down your face, even if you didn’t want them to. Dante couldn’t help but admire your reaction, always so glad he could make you smile like that.
“You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to.” As he answered, you looked back at him again; finding Dante approaching you again – now with his usual laid-back demeanor of always. “Plus, it isn’t the nicest brownies around…”
“It’s the nicest thing someone has done for me in a while, big guy.” You immediately held one of his hands, pulling him back to yourself before Dante could start downplaying his own actions. “Thank you. Really.”
“No need to thank me, babe. I’ll do it a thousand times if I have to.”
“You do know what that means, right…?” You placed both of your hands on his face, pulling Dante for another kiss. He would never complain about it – kissing you like that, was one of the very few things Dante would never deny in his life. “Nero knows too much now. I’ll have to kill him.”
Dante closed his eyes and broke in a good laugh while lowering his head, your hands still cradling his face. He expected everything but that.
“C’mon, the kid did a good job. He can keep a secret.” As he looked back at you and raised his head, Dante was still trying to stop laughing. He would never get tired of you – and your sense of humor.
“Hmmm. Same secret of what the hell you both did to the kitchen…?”
“Yeah, ‘bout that. You don’t wanna go in there, ‘k?” Dante raised one eyebrow, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and starting to walk with you towards the couch. “Kid’s gonna help me with that durin’ the week. We have more important business to attend to now.”
“Such as…?” And you did sit down as Dante signaled you to do so, such an uncharacteristic compliant act from your part. He did take note of that.
“I got us some movies and the brownies for the night. Enough to stay up ‘til the sun comes out again, if you wanna.” Dante winked at you, grabbing the baking tray and offering it to you – along with two forks. “Startin’ out with Zorro.”
“Oh, so it’s Zorro night eating brownies with mini-marshmallows straight out of the pan while cuddling with you in the couch…?” As you asked, already holding the tray, you watched as Dante put on the movie on that old TV Morrison was always fixing every now and then. As your red devil turned around, already looking like he was going to tell you it was all he had to offer, you put the tray aside and took one of his hands, pulling him to the couch. “I’m starting to think I’ve done something pretty good in my life to have all of this right now. It sounds perfect, cowboy.”
“Well… I’m glad you think so, sheriff.”
And that was, indeed, how you both spent the night – the brownies, even if a little charred on the edges, were exactly how you liked them; and the movies, were the ones you always enjoyed watching. As the hours passed, and so did your time spent together, sleep quietly found you both – and none of you wanted to leave the couch, as you slept in Dante’s arms.
He did wake up after a few minutes in slumber, thinking it would be better to carry you to the room since the bed was decidedly more comfortable than staying there. But, as soon as Dante looked down at you, he didn’t have the heart to wake you up – you had your head leaning on his chest, eyebrows relaxed and a faint, chocolate-smudged smile on your lips. When he moved a little, you wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, your head instinctively moving to the place in his chest over his heart – and Dante remembered when you told him once, a little drifting into sleep, how much you enjoyed listening to his heartbeat.
And so, he closed his eyes once more, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. Dante failed to see, though, how your smile appeared to brighten up as he did so – and he also wouldn’t know how much you appreciated your birthday this time.
Vergil
The last time Vergil had celebrated his birthday, he was a child.
Well, that was, before being with you. After spending so much time in his own path for power, he almost forgot what a birthday was – or, at least, that was what he wanted to do. Vergil wanted to erase that memory just like all other beautiful ones that could make that little light of humanity survive in his heart.
Of course, it was a weakness, as he always thought – and it was used by Mundus in his myriad of tortures. Those memories of beautiful days alongside his father, his mother and his brother; with chocolate cakes and a couple of presents; with smiles, gentle touches, warm hugs and little fun competitions with his twin. Vergil did want to have a day just for himself, but, whenever he celebrated with Dante… He couldn’t help but think it would be so alien not to have someone to share that joy with.
Locked down in Hell, completely alone, wishing for Death to take him away from that suffering, Vergil didn’t know what that joy was anymore. The memory of it ever happening only made it more painful; and, after a while, unbearable.
You didn’t push him when he mentioned not celebrating his birthday. You were only curious about the date, but as soon as Vergil mentioned how unimportant it was to him, you didn’t argue.
It was only one day, when he found a fancy chocolate muffin on his belongings, inside a little see-through box wrapped around with a beautiful blue ribbon, that Vergil remembered. When he took the little box between his fingers, he also noticed a new book – antique, a little frayed at the edges, with a heavy fabric cover and golden, worn-out letters and filigrees embellishing the tome. Opening it, there was his name written in fancy lettering, with a little message underneath “happy birthday, my love”, crowned with a small heart at the end.
Vergil took a deep breath, the book still in his hands.
It was quiet. Thoughtful. Intimate. At this point in his life he despised everything that was too loud or drew too much attention to himself – Vergil wanted peace and quiet, and time for his own thoughts. The fact you managed to respect that and still show him how much you cared…
He took a sharp breath as he closed the book. An original first edition of an old tome, which must have taken a long time to find and cost even more. He furrowed his brows even further, trying to understand the violent stirring inside his chest.
It was kind. So kind. A manner of kindness he did not deserve.
And you always seemed to remember how much he loved chocolate.
Taking the muffin in one hand and the book with the other alongside Yamato, Vergil walked out of the room on a mission to find you – his brows still deeply furrowed as he scanned the whole place in his search.
It didn’t take long for him to find you on one of the places you’d always be whenever you were both on a break: by the window, sitting on a stool while painting one of the beautiful landscapes you had found on a book or a magazine, wanting to try your hand at the colors and shapes.
As if nothing was happening and there was nothing of special on that day.
“Oh, love, do come over and help me here a bit, please…” You barely looked at him, having your attention on your painting. Nothing out of the ordinary: Vergil had good eyes and a keen sense for beauty, so you would constantly ask him for opinions on your work.
When you extended him your free hand, while still looking at the canvas, Vergil put aside the muffin on the side table with your painting supplies, promptly holding the hand you were offering. And, as soon as you realized how tightly he was holding, you immediately turned around – knowing it was Vergil’s way of saying he needed to talk to you.
And you were promptly met with a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss, taking longer than you would ever have expected.
Not that you were expecting. In a fact, it was one of the rare moments Vergil caught you completely by surprise.
“Everything ok…?” You whispered as soon as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours; his hot breath still rhythmically brushing your lips.
“Thank you.”
You only smiled, having your eyes closed as well as he. You knew Vergil wouldn’t say much more than that, at least not in that moment, but it was enough; considering how hard it was for him.
He spent quite a while with his forehead leaning on yours that day, and you didn’t brush him away. You never deemed Vergil too much, or too dramatic, or too emotional; whenever something like that happened, you only accepted him with open arms and few words, until he himself was ready to do more about his feelings.
It was quite understandable, then, for him to be so vexed when you told him you didn’t want anything to be done in your birthday. Vergil listened quietly and only what you were comfortable enough to tell him; and he didn’t make a fuss about it – something you would always be very thankful about your lover.
But it did bother him. To think a creature like yourself, who always thought of others and did your best to show them how much they were wanted, how much they were loved, didn’t want the same kindness extended to yourself was… Unfair.
And unfairness was always something that bothered Vergil’s heart, as much as he wanted to pretend he didn’t have one.
Apparently, you also wanted to pretend your heart didn’t exist… That you didn’t care. But Vergil knew quite well how much avoidance came from feeling too much, caring too much. From wanting to shut everything good down because expecting and not receiving was much worse than cutting every wish right at the bud, never allowing it to blossom.
With you… He did allow some flowers to blossom for the first time; tending to the small, quiet and rather secret little garden he had in himself, with some fear to have those flowers violently maimed and destroyed as before; but this time knowing there was a little more safety for them to grow… And someone like you to help protect and care for them.
Vergil wanted to extend to you the same grace.
And that was why he found himself standing in what was left of his childhood home once more, after so many years.
*
As Vergil’s steps went through the debris of the entrance, its echoes rippled in his mind like the memories of what he had done to win… To survive.
At that point in his life, defeating Dante wasn’t just to end a feud, it was for himself. So Vergil wouldn’t have to look back at all the things he had done and admit that, after all the time, he had been wrong and power wasn’t the only thing he needed. That Dante, even not as powerful as him, would always win, no matter what.
That Dante, who didn’t sacrifice everything like Vergil did, would always win because of his heart.
When he was dying, when he was fading, writhing in that never-ending suffering that burned his heart just like that fateful night, all Vergil wanted was to survive… To win. To tell himself he did the only thing he could have done and that power was the only thing that could have kept him safe. That someone was to blame for all that pain, that Dante was to blame.
And he was so blind. If he wanted, he could have had a very different life, but he couldn’t see. He chose not to see.
“There was nothing you could’ve done differently, after everything that was done to you. You were just a child and you did your best with what you had at the moment.”
Vergil had to close his eyes, a ghostly smile gracing his lips as he stood in the living room, before his family’s blighted portrait – as he did years prior. Whenever his thoughts started spiraling out of control, constantly blaming him in that endless parade of self-flagellation, your voice always echoed in his mind; a glimmer of light to pull him out of all that darkness.
“You have to learn to forgive yourself for not knowing how to properly handle what happened to you.”
As Vergil opened his eyes again, he rested his silvery gaze on his father and his mother. Would they be able to forgive him, if they knew…? He was there, after all, and that was what really mattered – alive, breathing, trying to live a new life after… Everything. He knew his father would see things from that more practical approach, so to speak, but his mother… Would Eva ever forgive him? Would her human heart have room for empathy for his actions…?
Vergil frowned after a couple of seconds watching her painted face; after all, his mind was playing tricks on him and he could swear he saw her gently smiling.
*
He didn’t expect much to have survived the fire. There was little left from what once was his home, but he did have a very faint light of hope in his heart that he could find what he was looking for.
Upstairs, it was a lot more difficult to walk than on the first floor; precisely because one never knew if the structure could hold some weight. Vergil walked slowly, with precise steps, always hearing for some creaking or rumbling that could indicate the floor was about to give out.
The fall wouldn’t kill him, but… He didn’t want the structure to fade away. A stupid little dying wish from his silly human heart, yes, but he didn’t want his childhood home to be completely lost to memory. There was a sense that, with it being there, everything did happen: he did have a family, he did have a home, he did have a happy life; even if it didn’t last too long. If that house crumbled…
Vergil understood quite well why you always enjoyed Blade Runner so much – and why you always cried when you heard everything would be lost, like tears in the rain. He didn’t want his home to crumble. He didn’t want his life, his history, his family to become tears in the rain… At least, not for the moment. His heart wasn’t ready for that yet.
After a careful walk down that silent corridor, Vergil spotted the door he was looking for: his bedroom.
To be honest, it barely had a door anymore. He gently pushed the piece of charred wood that was left on the broken hinges, as a horrible creaking slowly dragged it open – luckily, it didn’t crumble away.
Vergil stood by the door for a while, watching the room quietly. Everything was so dark: there was only a few rays of light that managed to slither through the blocked windows, but everything else was as if bathed in charcoal. He couldn’t make out the silhouette of any of his stuffed animals or toys, even his favorite ones, only being able to identify the bigger things: his bed, desk, chairs, wardrobe… Only parts of a whole, eaten away by fire and decay.
He wasn’t sure he would be able to enter. Not because of the crumbling floor, but because of his heart. It was so stupid, and so easy: he just had to put one foot in front of the other and walk in. Just walk in. Hardly the most impossible thing he had ever done.
And still… It felt like it. As if his feet were weighed down, unable to move. He couldn’t lift them, neither to move forward nor to move back. He could just… Stand. Watch. Feel the air in his lungs running out, as if that stuffed heat in the atmosphere hadn’t left after all those years.
It was pathetic.
Trying to move his feet, Vergil did manage to take one of them off the floor, only to step almost in the same spot it was before. His heart raced in his chest and Vergil couldn’t move. Those silvery eyes went back into his room, searching the thing he was there for, thinking that maybe, if he spotted it, he would be able to walk again.
But how was he going to find something that was hidden? Vergil sighed upon his own stupidity: he knew where it was, where he had left it long ago. It was just a completely illogical wish of his anxiety flooded mind to find it in a different place.
Vergil closed his eyes. He wouldn’t get anywhere like that. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders back rhythmically, slowly getting his heartbeat at a normal pace again. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, going back there… But he could do that for you.
Opening his eyes again, Vergil raised his head and took a step in.
And the world didn’t seem to end. Of course.
“Foolish human heart…” He mumbled under his breath, almost rolling his eyes at himself. Such a drama to do something so mundane.
“You have to offer yourself some kindness, the same you always offer me. You don’t have to be strong and stoic all the time.”
Once again, your voice echoed through his mind, as the gentle reminders you always worked so hard to etch into his soul even. Vergil couldn’t help but lightly shake his head, with a tired sigh he would only let out around you.
“Kindness is easier to be offered to the likes of you, dear saint…” Vergil knew you couldn’t hear him nor his words would be known by anyone; but, after so long on his own, surviving completely alone, he took a habit of talking to himself and having conversations in his own mind.
Something you were very aware of and, thankfully, never teased him for it.
“Thus from your lips, by mine, thine sin is purged.”
Vergil did stop in the middle of his room, closing his eyes once more – but this time, trying to control the hot flushing of blood immediately running to his face. He could also hear your giggle, from when you told him that adaptation of Juliet’s line from Shakespeare’s work, after the first time he called you “dear saint” – and how you kissed him, so passionately, right after; causing him to freeze for a few seconds, the same way as he was at the moment.
If only he could purge all his sins with kisses of yours. By now, he would probably be absolved from his crimes, how many of them you liked to place all over him.
Taking a deep breath once again, Vergil opened his eyes. Everything was strangely where he last left them – the fire, even if all consuming, didn’t move his things out of their place. Piles of books were still where Vergil last arranged them, his small clothes hanging inside what was left of the closet, the rug still a little too much to the left, his wooden sword almost all gone by his bed side.
With his careful steps, Vergil unconsciously ran his fingers at the top of the remnants of his desk – with a touch so light, he could barely feel the texture of the wrecked furniture. Just like the rest of the house, he wasn’t ready to have it all gone; he wanted his room to stay there, at least just for a little while. He wanted to be sure that, at some point in time, young Vergil did exist; and he was happy.
Getting to his bed, Vergil stopped by its side and tested the floorboards with his weight – even forcing a little bit by bouncing a couple of times. The spot near the head, by the wall, seemed sturdy enough; and so, he knelt, looking under the burned covers that draped over the edge of the mattress.
The satisfaction that flooded his chest poured over his lips as Vergil smiled, seeing it had been there all that time. Badly burned, yes, but apparently his bed was enough to take most of the damage for the things he left underneath it.
Pulling out a wooden box – which, once, was beautiful and carefully embellished, with iron details and a clasp to avoid prying hands – Vergil placed it over the nearest furniture so he could check its contents while standing.
It was a delight to know most of the things he kept in there were almost intact. An old book, a little jewelry box and…
Vergil’s smile slipped through his lips like water, as his eyes found it. His fingers fidgeted, as his hands hesitated to touch it… Scared it would crumble and that memory would fade away; that part of that little Vergil who hid it under his bed.
A little teddy bear.
Now with its caramel fur all dirty and slightly charred, glassy eyes with one of them almost falling out, with a big, beautiful blue bow around his neck – now dirty and frayed at the edges, but Vergil could remember as if it was yesterday, when Eva’s delicate hands tied it so gently around the bear’s neck, so they would know it belonged to him.
It was his favorite plush as a child. As they grew up, Dante teased him for still sleeping with his little teddy bear, but Vergil didn’t want to throw it away – after Sparda disappeared, whenever the nights were too dark and he was afraid of demons coming in silence, he would hold his teddy bear and close his eyes, telling himself everything would be alright.
And so, young Vergil would hide the plush in his prized wooden box under his bed: the one where he would keep all things he didn’t want Dante to touch. He had a hunch Eva knew about it; and whenever his mother mentioned, vaguely, a box under his bed, she just flashed him a knowing smile, as if it was their secret. As if she knew Dante would take everything Vergil owned and be not so careful with them; and, if Vergil kept them there, it was because he loved them too much to risk losing them.
Vergil took the little teddy bear in his hands, finally resting Yamato by the bed side. Now, it looked so small – just like his room: somehow, in his mind, it was a lot bigger than it now was. Vergil unconsciously ran one of his hands over the little plush’s head, almost too gently, trying to carefully get the falling eye back where it belonged.
It seemed so much bigger when he was a child. Everything seemed bigger when he was a child. And now, it was small, just like his room, just like everything else. Vergil’s hands were big, calloused, rough, used to blood and pain – quite different from those young hands, so small, smooth, soft, used to kindness and gentleness.
That little torn teddy bear, having survived for so long, forgotten in the dark aftermath of such violence… That once had been so much loved and cared for, that Vergil would keep it in that box so he could take out during the night, holding it during his darkest hours. That bear, now so little in his monstrous hands.
Vergil sat down at the edge of his old bed, forgetting, for a moment, that it could all collapse with his weight – but it didn’t; as if it remembered he was the one to safely sleep in there and call it his own.
Looking down at that little bear in his devilish hands, Vergil tried to fix its frayed blue bow as carefully as he could, without even realizing how a tear dripped from his face on the plush, clearing one of those glassy, dirty eyes.
He wished his tears could wash away all the charred remnants of the evil that destroyed that house. But all Vergil could do at that moment, was to hold his little teddy bear in his hands and cry – for all the things that were lost that night, including that little child who used to sleep in that bed.
*
You were quite thankful for how normal Vergil acted towards you that entire day.
He hadn’t told anyone in the crew about your birthday – and so, you managed to work normally with Dante and Lady without any grand gestures and celebrations. That kind of peace followed you throughout the whole day; until you got home and found Vergil calmly reading one of his own books, greeting you with a normal, uneventful kiss.
Before you took your well deserved shower for that evening, he did tell you he had ran a few errands, slaying some demons along the way – nothing out of the ordinary.
“I was wondering if you would like to watch something later, perhaps…?” Was the only thing a little out of place he said, but Vergil did enjoy to watch movies with you.
It wasn’t everyday you both weren’t too tired to do so, though, so it wasn’t that much of a daily thing – and you could see it as a way for him recognizing it was your birthday without being too obvious about it.
And you could always appreciate that.
After your shower then, you met him again in the living room, already thinking what you could have as diner. Maybe he would be interested in some Chinese food – after all, Vergil was very skilled with chopsticks.
But he was nowhere to be found.
“Vergil…? Are you…?”
“Here, love.” And you heard a dark giggle as you almost jumped out of your own skin. He was very skilled at being silent, too. “Do apologize.”
“I still have to get used to that...” You giggled back, shaking your head with a sigh, while Vergil had his hands clasped behind himself.
“I think both of us need to get used to plenty of new things.” As he spoke, you looked back at him, slightly furrowing your brows – after all, Vergil did have a faint smile coloring his lips. “I did run some important errands today… May I?”
You found it even stranger when he asked for your left hand, but you did place it on his. You noticed Vergil left something over the desk by your side, although your attention was immediately caught by a delicate chain with a small plaque he gently placed around your wrist. After clasping it securely in place, not too tight but also not lose enough so it wouldn’t spin around your arm, he fixed the bracelet to have the little plaque atop of your wrist.
It was quite old and even dirty, oxidized with time and somewhat rough because of the dirt, but it was easy to see it was made of pure gold – and, on that delicate plaque, with embellished lettering, it was written Vergil.
“When we were born, my parents made each of us a gold bracelet with our names on it. An old custom that perhaps is already lost.” Vergil considered, still gently holding your hand and admiring his old bracelet on your wrist. “As we grew older, my father had the bracelet length elongated, so we could still wear it in adulthood. I think it looks better on you.”
With that, Vergil placed a rather long kiss on your fingers, as you took a little time to understand what was going on. That was one of his most prized belongings, and he did tell you how he liked proudly wearing it as a child – but decided to keep it safe as the chain broke during a fight with Dante once, even if Eva skillfully put the links back into place.
Something so delicate, so regal, so holy didn’t fit him anymore, at least that was how Vergil saw it. He wanted to give you something special, a part of himself you could keep with you at all times… And that bracelet, the one made for when he was just an untainted baby, seemed like the best thing he could give.
It was one of the very few things Vergil had left – from that lost child he mourned earlier in his broken home.
“I also… Wanted you to have this.” Before you could say anything or even react, he took the book he left on the desk by your side, offering it to you.
Vergil wouldn’t say more, as he hoped the book could speak for itself.
Inferno, by Dante Alighieri. You had a bit of confusion in your eyes, as you gently felt the red leather of the book – strangely charred around the edges – with worn out golden filigrees that created the intricate artwork of the cover. Opening it, Vergil only watched you with gentle eyes, carefully admiring every single one of your reactions.
You could swear your heart stopped for a moment as you read the name written on the first page – Sparda, with a calligraphy that wasn’t from Vergil or from Dante. It looked old, as the pages were spotted and yellowed… And, on a smaller lettering, a little message “happy birthday, my love” – now, from a calligraphy you knew quite well.
“Vergil, I…” You didn’t even realize when your eyes filled with tears; you just felt them as you looked up at him and saw Vergil scintillating among the water.
“These are the kinds of gifts worth giving.” And even if he wasn’t one to interrupt you, he was one to call you out – especially when you were resistant to accept some love. “Please, don’t refuse them. It’s all I have.”
“Oh, I would never refuse them, Vergil…” Your answer was a whisper, as you fought your very heart, trying to keep your tears in your eyes – and failing beautifully, if Vergil had to point it out, for you had a beautiful smile spreading on your lips; probably from the golden warmth that flooded your chest. “It’s so much more than…”
“Don’t say you don’t deserve it.” He mirrored your whisper, placing one of his hands on your face, gently wiping a few of the tears away. “I’d say I don’t deserve you either, yet here we are.”
“Here we are indeed.” You whispered back with a giggle, as Vergil genuinely smiled back at watching your happiness – after all, you always knew how sincere it was from watching it spreading through his eyes, melting that icy silvery gaze at least for a little while.
You reached for him, placing a long, soothing kiss on his lips. It always warmed your heart how he always seemed so stiff at the first few seconds, only to thaw into it and pour around you like water; like a melting of the frost he always carried in his eyes. You were one of the very few people in the world who ever got to experience a warmer side of his, and that you would cherish forever as one of the greatest gifts.
To think you deserved to have that – a love so quiet, so warm, so respectful… Definitely not an easy one, but welcoming and embracing, something that honored your boundaries and still went to great lengths – silently, through actions that were worth more than a million winged words – to show you how precious and loved you were… That was much more than you had ever dreamed of.
“Nothing comes from nothing…” As you parted your lips from Vergil’s, you could barely take them away enough from him; still brushing his as you started singing, with Vergil slightly furrowing his brows in confusion. “Nothing ever could… So, somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.”
Oh, he knew exactly what you were singing – and why. And the irony wasn’t lost in Vergil of you singing it to him… When he should be the one talking about his wicked past.
“For here you are standing there loving me…” He answered quietly, reciting more than singing – but still, a rare, rare occurrence. Your own heart was humming alongside him. “Whether or not you should.”
“So, somewhere in my youth…”
“Or childhood.” Vergil couldn’t hold back one of his dark giggles, seeing how much you seemed to glow with his prompt answer to your singing.
“I must have done something good.” You didn’t always sing together, but when you did, both of you found it rather delightful how well your voices danced together – even if his was much more contained and spoken rather than proper singing.
It was decided, then, you would spend the night watching The Sound of Music.
*
Or at least, that was what you both expected you could do – having not planned sleeping in each other’s arms, right on the couch, under a set of warm blankets and the movie’s music embracing you both like a quiet lullaby.
At some point in the night, Vergil did wake up and move around so you would both properly lay down, with you snuggled in his arms almost hiding your face on his chest, as he kept you warm and safe; turning the TV off and having only soft drops of the rain outside as something to gently keep you in your slumber.
Looking down at you in his arms, Vergil lightly caressed your hair, noticing how peaceful you seemed – the worry left your brows and the corners of your mouth, as you almost appeared to be softly smiling; gently dreaming in his company, of all creatures.
To think a dear saint like yourself would give a devil like him any chance of expiation, as mild as it could be, offering him your heart while asking for nothing in return…
Vergil never really understood how you could extend him so much grace, even after knowing of all his transgressions. Perhaps… Perhaps you had in your heart the same thing his mother had when it came to loving his father; even when Sparda was, in fact, a demon out of Hell.
“Perhaps I had a wicked childhood…” As you slept, Vergil could sing to himself; in the quietness of the dark, when no one else was watching and he was the only one to hear his whispered words. “Perhaps I had a miserable youth… But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, there must have been a moment of truth…”
As he placed a sleepy kiss at the top of your head, Vergil closed his eyes, holding you a little tighter against his chest. He did, however, miss by a fraction of a second the pleased smile you allowed to spread over your tired lips.
You didn’t know when among many miserable birthdays it happened for you to deserve that now… But you knew, somewhere in there, you must have done something good.
Self aware Dmc where they can hear you or see you during cutscenes or during general gameplay. Not knowing how to feel about someone watching and even controlling them. Hell, you even talk to them as if they could hear you. I mean they could but you didn’t know that, and it’s not like they could respond if they wanted to.
Self aware Dmc where they slowly grow fond of you and the way you fawn or panic over them. Getting them more skills, sounding like you’re close to tears when they get hurt on accident and start apologizing. Or hearing you praise them for a job well done after a fight and even say “We did it! Or rather you did it…still! Good job!” and them chuckling internally since they know you didn’t include yourself due to not wanting to take any credit or something similar.
Self aware Dmc where the characters recognize you no matter what console you play in or no matter which game of the franchise it is. They’re glad to see you again and how excited you are to keep learning of their world.
Self aware Dmc where they love to see your reactions to certain things in cutscenes. Like finding the small numbers of each mission hidden in the cutscenes of Dmc 3 (you looked so cute when you got excited once you found the number). Or when you fought Vergil for the first time in Temen ni gru (he couldn’t help but be amused as you panicked when Dante almost died and when you started cheering once you got a hit in on him). Or when you looked so lost during Dmc 2 (Dante almost broke out of character when he uttered the lines “Do you have to ask?” and you just blew up and begged for answers due to the lack of context of the entire thing. How adorable). Or when you cried or teared during any emotional moment and worried over them (Lady still appreciates the concern you showed when she shot her father. And Nero and Kyrie are glad they had someone who cared so much for them when they were sealed in the Savior).
Self aware Dmc where they love seeing flustered over certain moments in the game too. It’s definitely their favorite thing to hear you shamelessly fawn over them, especially since you think they can’t hear you. If you happen to have a favorite from the cast, when you’re offline, they’d brag to the others on how much they fawn over them instead of anyone else. (Nero, for example, was extremely smug when he heard you sputter after saying “Gotta pay attention, sweetheart”. You could barely speak coherently, that’s too cute)
Self aware Dmc where they have to stay in character when they hear you cuss out any minor enemies or main antagonists during boss fights or cutscenes as if you’re arguing with them. Some of the insults aren’t half bad, they’ll give you that. Even if it barely makes sense to them.
Self aware Dmc where they feel bad when you get frustrated over a particular boss fight and can’t get through it after several tries. They don’t like seeing you beat yourself up for it and it makes them want to try even harder for your sake. Anything to make sure you don’t cry…again.
Self aware Dmc where they try to tweak some of the dialogue or cutscenes to give you more content or small 4th wall breaks. It’s endearing to see you so excited and flustered when they do.
Self aware Dmc where they eventually grow possessive of you, their dear player and want your attention all to themselves. How could they not, you’re just so sweet and caring towards them even if they’re just fictional characters to you. You treat and talk them like they could reply to your remarks (and they desperately want to. How they wish they could)
Self aware Dmc my beloved.
(I’ve never written headcannons or drabbles like this before, hope it’s good. And yes, most of these headcannons or scenarios were based on my own experiences when playing the games, sue me. There’s not enough self aware dmc content. WAHHH-)
notes: I RISE!! We've been in mute mode for a whole freaking year (last fic was uploaded in October 1st, I am so sorry) but we're back in action once more, everybody please clap! This is a random and simple headcanon post, with pure fluffy and romantism, nothing more. Enjoy the ride!
♡ tags: fluffy, gender-neutral reader, no use of you/yours (it's just a silly post this time ueeeeee), no reader's appearance description, petnames, Dante & Vergil are on their fours for ya <3
ⓘ gif's not mine!!
Dante calls you:
Babe/baby (the most classic one let's be honest here)
Princess/Prince/Royalty
Sugar/Sugarcube
My Rose
Sweetie/Sweetheart
Angel/Angelcake
Honey
Honeybun (if he's feeling too lovey-dovey)
Honeypie (if he's feeling way too lovey-dovey)
Love
Hot-stuff
Boo
Berry-boo (I can't with this man)
Legendary Devil Lover
Cowgirl/Cowboy
ⓘ gif's not mine!!
Vergil calls you:
Darling/Dear/Dearest
Little Dove
Love
Little Minx (if you're up to something ehehehe)
Sweetheart (only used in private because he's not a man of PDA like his brother)
Angel
Honey
My Queen/King (watch out he's feeling ultra romantic)
ajbgfbdsgkjjfdgbjk Luv you too, @astral-space-dragon
No but actually tho! God, I have so many thoughts with this because while Dante is absolutely the default menace, Vergil is ABSOLUTELY a fucking gremlin--an especially antisocial and chaotic menace and still technically learning How to Properly Human (without thirsting for untold power) kind of GremlinTM tho.
Some of My Thoughts Abt Vergil Being the Gremlin That He Is, Would Include:
Being up at the most insane and inhuman hours of the night doing god knows what. Could it just be harmless insomnia filled reading? Sometimes, yes. But this man is like many black cats I know, where being an absolute menace and gremlin in the dark is basically in his blood, especially after all the shit that has happened.
Whenever him and Dante get into a prank war, which often happens more often than not thanks to Dante, I can see his retaliatory tactics going one of two ways.
One being the more harmless yet effective shit like switching the salt and sugar, especially since he knows Dante never bothers to check beyond any signs of anything like mold (not that it's stopped him much before on an empty enough stomach).
And the other is going to a level of petty where by the time you realized what's happened, it's much too late.
This includes, but is not limited to, sawing down half the legs of Dante's desk chair; changing his shampoo for hair dye; switching out the sugar for salt to ruin Dante's coffee knowing he'll forget to change it half the time (which only started after Dante did it to him first) and so on.
He really gives the vibe of the sibling more likely to be the cursed raccoon/possum you'll find munching away on some garbage that you awkwardly lock eyes with the moment you turn on the lights. I'm convinced both Dante and Nero have come down to the kitchen enough times, only to find Vergil eating something in the dark. He would be perched on the kitchen counter, snack in hand (probably eating cereal out of the box or some instant microwave ramen--or just eating it raw if he's feeling lazy--and not just the kind that's meant to be eaten like that either. He likes the crunch). All with that piercing stare of his that says, "WTF are you looking at?"
Because of his half demon blood, I absolutely imagine that his--and by extension Dante and Nero's--eyes glow in the dark. So even creepily as the lights go out for a minute you'll see his intimidating glowing blue eyes in the pitch black before that suddenly disappears.
I can see Nero nearly having a heart attack as he's getting used to this part of Dante and Vergil, though because both can see in the dark just fine, they don't always bother to turn the light on. So you just walk into a dark as fuck room and just see these two pairs of intimidating ass glowing eyes leering in the dark. He's the latest victim of going through this because you know Morrison, Lady, and Trish are just used to it at this from Dante's antics alone.
Then there's the sleep talking. Now, this isn't a consistent thing on his part, and sometimes it's a side effect of nightmares and trauma, but not always. And even then it's two very different talks.
The first type comes with the days when he continues on full on conversations in that dead, dry tone; so much so where you'd think he was just resting his eyes instead of sleeping. It's only when he trails off and eventually begins to softly snore that anyone would realize he was actually asleep. Nero has had full conversation while Vergil is on the couch "resting his eyes," bordering on philosophical heart-to-hearts, only to turn around and find that Vergil's "sudden contemplative brooding silence" is just him soundly sleeping.
The second type, however, usually comes with the more unhinged and less comprehensive sleep talking, where it borders between nonsensical and poetically cryptic.
Dante likes to joke this is when "V" secretly comes out to chat, though Nero is now wondering if he got a bit too into the wine or vodka before his nap or if his old man really is just that weird. Of course, that question changes after seeing just how much of a chaotic lightweight his father is days later (thanks mostly to Dante, of course).
You know those little stuffies where you can change them inside out and back to reflect different moods? I absolutely see Nico joking about Dante getting Vergil one as a gag gift, which he ultimately does because he wants to of course see Vergil's reaction, even if it just ends with him turning it into a spectral sword pin cushion.
Though jokes on both of them, because I can see Vergil keeping one after it somehow ended up growing on him, and now he makes a habit of making sure it always reflects his mood. When called out on it, Vergil just eerily grins and say at least Dante couldn't say he wasn't properly warned ahead of time before playing their classic game of FAFO.
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.
