#marksof-weakness

[devilxhunted]

[ cut ] heueheueheueheuehueheueh

❥     𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 . // @marksof-weakness​ // accepting!

Guess that was a sore spot, huh?

                   At some point, his own blood had become near tasteless to him with the amount of times it has either filled his mouth or coughed up. His hand lazily stayed pressed against the wound left on his neck this time, laying flat on his back on the strange foliage of the underworld, staring up at the seemingly unchanging sky -- who know that bringing up the possibility of grandchildren deserved such a dramatic reaction?

                        The wound wasn’t deep ( in demon terms, at least ), and would heal faster than he would lose blood. At least good ‘ol big brother learned how to hold back. A rough sigh spilled from his lips, grunting as he felt stiff bones pop and aching muscles throb when he moves into a sit instead. As flesh and skin mended back together, he moved his hand to rub the back of his neck instead, leveling Vergil with an exasperated look.

“Just so you know, that doesn’t count on the tally.”

[devilxhunted]

@marksof-weakness​ liked for a starter // accepting!

“Look, I’m just saying; it wouldn’t kill you to loosen up a bit.”

                    It came with a sigh, reminiscing the days where his brother had been just as wild and care-free as he. Days quickly gone when Vergil had taken up the mantle of being the ‘responsible’ one, by virtue that he was born merely an hour earlier, once both twins had quickly realized they were to live without a father. Sometimes, Dante wondered if the gentle chiding of their mother (bless her dearly), at the time, had done more harm than good. Children were impressionable, after all, and little things seemed too big to them.

Now, it seemed that neither child remained. Only one who has grown too tired of it all, quite frankly, and another who had the empathy of a block of ice.

“I know he’s a little... you know,” his hand gestures vaguely before his fingers go inward and he points to his face, lips curling into a prominent scowl to imitate that very same youth.

“But he’s trying. He doesn’t have to, but he is. The least you can do is try, too.”