#maybe I'll bring my mom's recipe here someday ^^

[polarisbibliotheque]

Dante & Vergil with their s/o on rainy days

Pairing: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Sparda household needs to re-learn what cozy rainy days feels like. Luckily, they have you around to remind them - and some hot chocolate.

Author’s notes: This theme was suggested by @randomshit618 a long time ago and I finally go to writing it! I've been meaning to post for a while now, but I took my most recent vaccine shot and I can barely get up from bed (writing it from my comfy confinements right now ^^). But I wanted to let you guys know I haven't forgotten you!  Also, I'll be working on the other suggestions from the asks soon!

And, if you're in Brazil, I know we're having a displaced Carnaval and everyone's up to have fun, but do stay safe, ok? It's been a while and people are completely careless, accidents are bound to happen. So take care of yourselves ^^

Restrictions: Dante's is kinda of a follow up from a Sky-Blue Kind of Rain - so he's kinda in a depressive mood. Vergil starts his after waking up from night terrors, so I thought I should warn you.

Dante

A Sky-Blue Kind of Rain

“Say… You never spent cozy rainy days at home?” Your question made Dante smile a little while both of you walked back home. He had his hands tucked in his pockets and you carried your huge sword as if it was nothing.

Sometimes, you wished you had his power of just summoning his sword out of his very being – but you had to settle with your humanity.

“Well… Never really had much of a cozy home.” He shrugged back; a little humorless giggle hidden at the end of his phrase. “I remember mom used to read us stories… Ya know, I was kinda scared of big thunderstorms when I was a kid.”

“I’m still scared of big thunderstorms.” You made sure to note that as soon as you noticed he was a little uneasy to admit that. Dante’s smile grew on his lips, and you marked that as a win. “They always made the lights go out back in the home I grew up. But I do like rain.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda… Soothing.” Dante’s voice got a little lost in the water by the end, while his eyes took in the skies.

He deserved all the peace he could get. Sometimes, you wanted to scream for it to register on his brain – but some other times, you just wanted to cuddle that huge, buffed demon hunter who carried such a wounded heart.

“It is. And you’ll get to know what a cozy rainy day at home looks like, even if it is the last thing I do.” And your voice was so sure of yourself, Dante couldn’t hold back the genuine laugh that played on his lips.

You almost tackled Dante so he would take a warm shower – a cozy one, to wash that cold rainwater that soaked both of you to your bones. He asked you to come along, but knowing your red devil, you’d spend the whole rest of the day under the water just because.

And, as much as you’d like to do that, the water bill wouldn’t pay itself by the end of the month. It was fine for him to take a longer sort of shower – but the two of you in it would make the water bill stratospherically absurd.

So, you decided to avoid that.

Instead, you took your time by yourself to settle in the kitchen.

“Gotta say, it’s been a long time I don’t smell something like this…”

As you turned around, you met Dante leaning by the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest, but carrying a faint smile on his lips. You could see his sky-blue eyes under his pearly white hair – so amusing how it reminded you of when he was younger in his old red vest and black turtleneck, what he used to wear when you first met.

“Chocolate…?” It was a guess; and stripped off the certainty Dante always carried in his voice.

His spirit was tired. You could see it in his eyes.

“Yeah. I took a look at the recipe notebook Kyrie gave me and found a really good and quick brownie recipe.” You winked at him, leaning on the counter while holding the wooden spoon, filled with the chocolaty batter, on one of your hands. “And don’t worry, big guy. I’m working on some strawberry jam so you can use it as a syrup and appease your thirst for berries.”

“Huh, you didn’t have to worry about that, babe… Mom did make some choco cakes for us sometimes.” Dante’s smile was a little absent minded, leaving the door frame to lazily approach you. “Though Verge was more of the chocolate freak. Me, I’ve always been more into strawberries.”

“Bet Eva made strawberry choco cakes and that solved all her problems.” You smiled back at him as Dante stopped in front of you, playing with your hands for a while.

“Well, you are as brilliant as her, babe.” Dante confirmed with a small smile and a wink, making you giggle in response. “Need some help tidying things up?”

“Of course. I was waiting for you to start that part of my mission… My favorite, if you wanna know.” You winked back at your red devil and, letting go of his hands only to offer him the bowl and the wooden spoon you used to prepare the batter. You did scrape the bowl the best way you could, but, as usual, some of the batter always remained.

And that was the best part.

“Ok. Want me to wash the baking pan too, later…?” Dante wasn’t even going to argue nor was he in a mood to banter. You were already taking care of him, the least he could do was clean the dishes.

Or so he thought.

“Who said anything about washing, cowboy…?” You raised one eyebrow, protectively taking the bowl and spoon away from him. Dante tilted his head, trying to understand what you meant. “Ok. There was a thing my mom always did at my home. And my aunt. And my grandma. And I’m pretty sure it’s a family thing, so pay close attention, red devil…”

Dante seemed to take your words seriously, leaning in to listen to you better, showing how much he cared. Both of you never had much structure, and you were struggling to create your own. Step by step, putting pieces together like a mosaic, you and Dante were building a life the way you liked it – and sometimes, you had memories from your childhood that you wanted to bring back. Little things that meant something, for you and for him, that you wanted to share in that new life you were piecing together.

It wasn’t much – but, for Dante, those things meant the world.

“After they baked a tasty cake, they always gave me the spoon and the bowl…” You were almost solemn, making Dante expect an old, respectful family tradition. “So I’d scrape the hell out of it and eat the batter, making the washing process a whole lot easier.”

“Ha, your mom let you eat unbaked batter…?” And that made a soothing smile appear on his lips. Dante’s eyes still carried some of that sadness that appeared in the pouring rain as you worked that day, but there was also a vulnerability – something he would only allow himself to show by your side. “That’s one hell of a family tradition.”

“And my grandma too, big guy.” You winked back at him, placing the kitchen utensils on the counter right by your side, making Dante lean on it next to you as soon as you did the same. “Put those hands to work, babe.”

With those words, you slid your index finger inside the bowl, taking some of the batter and offering to him. Dante didn’t argue: carefully, he held your hand to lick the chocolate you offered.

“Ya know… This is better than I expected.” His eyes were still sad, but with a glint of fun as he leaned more of his weight on his elbows, lazily placed by yours on the kitchen counter.

“I know. It isn’t exactly healthy, but we can allow some luxuries during rainy days.” You smiled back, cleaning a little bit of chocolate from his lower lip. “Wanna help me clean this up?”

“Gotta keep up with your family traditions.” It was Dante’s turn to smile to you, watching as you seemed to glow with a peaceful happiness while getting ready to eat all the batter that remained on the spoon. “It’s a nice thing to do on rainy days.”

“Indeed.” You mumbled, making him chuckle as the corners of your mouth got stained with chocolate. Dante took the chance to start his ‘cleaning’ process with the bowl. He would risk saying that was weirdly warming him from inside out. “Someday I’ll make you something called ‘little rain cakes’. My mom and grandma used to make them during cold, gray days.”

“Hmmm. They sound delicious already.” And now, his lips were smeared with chocolate as well. That image made you want to hold him in your arms and never let go. “Mom… Well, she used to make these simple cakes, you know…? It’d be cold and she’d call me and Verge to drink some hot chocolate and a slice of warm cake.” Dante stared at some point without really seeing it, having stopped eating for a while. You just listened quietly: he didn’t recall much of his childhood out loud, so, every time he did, you paid attention. It was his way of trusting you. “Dumb Vergil would always want to be all proper, but when he smelled chocolate, it was a fight to see who’d get to the kitchen first, you know?” Dante chuckled at the memory, making you smile in return. It was nice seeing him remembering something good for a change. “We’d take our cardboard swords and fight all the way to the kitchen. I could always hear mom laughing while we tried our best to be the first to arrive. That dumbass would always try to pretend he was a prince if he arrived first, though.”

“I can almost see him with his nose up in the air, behaving like royalty to impress Eva.” You snorted, making Dante turn his eyes back to you and laugh the way he always did. It was good to see his heart was gradually coming back.

“Royalty with his hair all ruffled and his knees scraped from fightin’ me! It was ridiculous!” He leaned closer to you as you laughed together, almost touching your forehead with his. “But mom was always nice. To me and to him. It didn’t matter who got there first, we’d always get a kiss on the top of our heads and a warm cup of hot chocolate, while she took the cake or cookies out of the oven.” Dante allowed a sad smile to rest on his lips, taking some more of the chocolate batter on his fingers. “It was nice.”

“We can make some hot choco too, if you want…” You left the suggestion in the air, noticing how he eyed you.

It had been years Dante didn’t drink hot chocolate – he’d risk saying it was since he was on his own after surviving the disaster at his old home. You had brought back into his life so much – foods, songs, laughs… Memories. And he had nothing but gratitude in his heart.

Sometimes, Dante wondered if he could ever love you too much.

“Ya know… I think the weather is pretty good for that.” He had a faint smile, his eyes seeming like they were about to rain once more. “But I’ve no idea where to start, babe.”

“We can figure it out together, love.” As you said that, you placed one of your hands on his face, pulling him for a gentle, soothing kiss.

And, as you parted, you started caressing his cheek.

“You smeared me with chocolate, right…?” Dante didn’t have his eyes opened yet, but he was doing his best not to laugh too much.

“It’s collateral damage from being in the kitchen with me.” You giggled back, still trying to wipe the chocolate from his face.

“I can take that kind of collateral damage, babe. No worries.” And, with that phrase, Dante did you the favor of smearing some chocolate on the tip of your nose, making you laugh immediately after being caught by surprise.

He never thought spending time on the kitchen with you, remembering the recipes from his childhood, could be so soothing. As you and Dante worked on the brownies and the hot chocolate, time seemed to flow as naturally as rain – along with your laughs and words.

He could talk to you forever. He could spend an eternity by your side – and something inside his heart made it seem that wouldn’t be enough.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with you both sitting on the big couch at the Devil May Cry, with you comfortably cradled by Dante’s arms, while eating the decadent brownies with strawberry jam and sipping some hot chocolate, as the rain melted on the windows and played its crystalline melody on the sidewalk outside.

The skies weren’t the only thing that melted that day – as you laid in his arms and talked about all random topics Dante seemed to be interested about, he noticed the magic of that sweet afternoon wasn’t in the food.

It was you. You had the power to warm up not only his heart, but his soul – his human soul.

From that day on, rainy days were more than welcome at the Devil May Cry.

Vergil

Vergil had a rough night.

It was something he hated to admit, but sincerity was one of his virtues – even more so towards himself.

It shouldn’t had been such a loathsome night; for all nights spent in your arms were a blessing higher than Vergil ever thought he deserved. But those dreams assaulted him again. Those terrible memories – of being controlled, of losing his own free will, of losing himself.

Vergil wasn’t afraid of too many things… But he was terrified of living it all once more.

It wasn’t a shock to find him in the middle of the night, with the moon high in the sky, looking horribly sleep deprived with the gentle rain seeming to want to soothe him with its sparkling on the glass of the windows.

Vergil sat by his usual study desk – arms crossed, eyes closed, seemingly meditating while his pale demeanor held deep purple hues that denounced how much he needed to sleep.

“Vergil…?” You carefully called him, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to touch him while having one of his night terrors. Previously, that same night, he woke up in horror and you were the only one that seemed to soothe him – apparently, those nightmares came back, and he opted to deprive himself of sleeping. “Love…? Are you ok…?”

“Hmmm.” He slightly opened his eyes, keeping them locked on your feet instead of fully opening them. “Yes.”

“So honest to yourself, yet so tough to open up… Even to me.” You chuckled lightly, making him fully open his tired eyes and set them in your form. Everything about you was always welcome in his life – soothing, like the rain outside. “Can I touch you…?”

Vergil just agreed with his head, nodding with almost no movement. You took one of your hands to lightly touch his face – first with your fingers, making him close his eyes once more, cherishing the feeling of you. It was grounding. It always managed to bring Vergil back and calm that storm that raged inside his chest and threatened to burst through his eyes. You ran your fingers through his silvery hair, provoking a sigh on the Dark Slayer’s lips.

“Those nightmares can’t let you go tonight…?” Your voice was tired, yes, but for him you’d stay awake as much as he needed you to.

“On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before…”* He sighed once more, barely raising his voice as your hands kept caressing his hair. It wasn’t a usual thing to behold, but Vergil was slowly learning to be vulnerable next to you.

“And then the bird said ‘nevermore’…?” You completed his quote, making Vergil open his eyes again, seemingly proud – you’d never know it, but deep in his heart, he was grateful to have found someone who understood his way of being and speaking.

After all, for many years, the only company Vergil had was books. They had shaped him more than he liked to admit out loud.

“One of the most dreadful things of being human…” He murmured, looking as tired as you’d expect from someone awake during a rainy night at almost 5 a.m. “Is being a slave to your own memories, that keep appearing uninvited while you sleep.”

“Indeed…” You agreed with your head, having a slight smile hidden in the corner of your lips right after. “But those aren’t the only memories that rise during dreams, right…? I dare to say the good ones are worth the risk of the dreadful ones.”

Vergil slowly nodded, thinking about what you had just said. His fingers found yours, taking your hand from his hair and caressing your silky skin while his mind flew away, deep in thought.

You gave him the time he needed. The rain outside created a beautiful symphony on the glass and the pavement, sometimes accompanied by deep thunder – too far away to sound threatening. You just waited until Vergil seemed to emerge from his thoughts: if he managed to fall asleep like that, it wouldn’t be the first time and you’d never complain about it.

“Dante told me a secret about you one of these days, love.” That phrase from your mouth, though, made Vergil immediately look at you with sharp eyes: it didn’t look like he would fall asleep soon, so you could help him as much as your powers allowed. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen first?”

Raising one of his eyebrows, Vergil finally stood up and silently followed you as you kept holding his hand and guided him to where you wanted.

You were the only being in all worlds who could make the Dark Slayer follow your footsteps without questioning.

Vergil carefully watched as you moved around the kitchen, sitting by the table you ordered him to stay while you did all the work. It didn’t down on him what you were doing, until he was suddenly taken by a cloud of the sweet smell of chocolate while you poured it on the milk warming up on the stove.

He didn’t know how to react. That smell immediately took him back to the halls of his home, while he fought Dante to see who would get to the kitchen first while Eva prepared some warm, hot chocolate to keep them cozy during cold rainy days. She stirred the chocolate just like you did, standing peacefully by the oven with a calm smile on her lips while he and Dante crossed chaos to be there first.

It seemed foolish how he would always try to behave like a prince as soon as he set foot in the kitchen, but Vergil always wanted to look his best to his parents. He wanted to impress them – he wanted them to be sure he was worthy to carry his father’s name and his mother’s love. Vergil adored how Eva smiled at him whenever he thanked her so politely for the chocolate, winning a kiss on the top of his head.

And even if Dante didn’t act the same, he’d win a smile and a kiss as well. Vergil and Dante would always exchange looks as she was done serving them, smiling at each other excitedly – even if they had fought all the way to the kitchen, they were still brothers and still loved one another.

Vergil wished he was assaulted every night with those memories instead.

“Hot chocolate…?” He murmured, trying to keep his voice from trembling. It had been such a long time he didn’t allow himself that little piece of happiness, it seemed like it was a memory from another life. One he didn’t spend alone, doing his best to gain power and survive, having to fend for himself and falling deeper and deeper into mayhem.

It seemed like a memory from Heaven.

“Dante told me you have a soft spot for chocolate.” You looked back at him; that same smile his mother kept on her lips calmly reflecting on yours. You appeared to ignore how glossy his silvery eyes looked – and Vergil was thankful for that. “Who would’ve known the Dark Slayer has such a sweet taste…?”

As you winked, Vergil allowed himself to slightly smile back while you turned your attention back to the hot drink. It would be done soon, and you didn’t want to burn it.

“Indeed my tastes are sweet, for loving you as much as I do.”

That quiet phrase, murmured on a velvety, silent tone by Vergil’s lips, took you quite by surprise. He wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve – and declarations of love like that weren’t usual. Even if Vergil was able to say the most beautiful things the ears of men had listened, he usually kept to his heart and would only allow you to know it by writing the words on paper – avoiding saying them.

Almost like a spell that would wrap around both of you, binding you forever when said out loud.

Vergil would always be thankful by the way you reacted to his words, though – keeping with what you were doing, as if he said nothing much. But he could see, in the way your eyes glistened, and your lips carried a proud smile, how much it affected you.

Your emotions weren’t loud and overwhelming for him to handle – they were as gentle as the rain that melted outside.

“I wonder what my tastes are then, for loving you like I do.” You finally quipped back, taking the pan out of the stove, and offering Vergil one of your beloved, blue flower themed mugs – as well as taking one for yourself. “Probably strong albeit sweet, like dark chocolate.”

It was his turn not to answer you but allow a knowing smile to color his lips. Vergil never knew well how to react when you complimented or offered gentle feelings for him instead of hatred – he wasn’t used too kindness and softness. He had longed for it, yes, even quietly suffered for some gentleness. But, around you, it was the first time in long, long years he was finally experiencing it.

You sat across the table, taking your mug between your hands, using it to warm you up on that chilly night. Vergil took his blue flower mug with some uncertainty, wondering how that chocolate would taste like after so many years.

The sweet and warm taste took his mouth, but the wave that formed inside of him came from his heart – a wave of feelings Vergil thought were long gone; memories from the days he would play with Dante in the garden of their home, from Eva reading him his favorite poetry books to help him fall asleep, from Sparda spinning him in the air as he was caught during his training, from all of them spending a cozy, rainy night by the fireplace enjoying hot chocolate.

Vergil thought it was all dead – that he had killed it to survive. Those memories hurt; made his heart bleed during harsh endless nights while he wondered alone as a child trying to find a safer place to sleep at least a little bit and warm up his bones. He thought he had murdered those memories in cold blood, as he did with many things, so he could survive.

But there they were – and, across the table, right in front of him, there you were; with a knowing smile on your lips while his eyes rained as much as the skies outside.

You didn’t say a word about his overflow of feelings – and he would always be thankful for that. Holding your hand across the table, Vergil caressed and played with your fingers, while you both silently enjoyed the hot chocolate during that rainy night.

As Aurora with its rosy fingers colored the sky and the sun started to rise in its golden chariot, you and Vergil were back on the bed – peacefully listening to the raindrops outside, while he slept safe and sound in your arms, with your hands caressing his silver hair.

You were the only one able to soothe the storm that raged inside his soul – and Vergil would be thankful for that, forevermore.

*The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe

#devil may cry #dante x reader #dante imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #dmc #devil may cry imagine #dmc dante #dmc vergil #devil may cry fanfiction #dante sparda #vergil sparda #dmc fanfiction #dante x you #vergil x you #aaaand we're back with poems with Verge #also some Homer references 'cause I'm a sucker for the Odyssey #and Dante would LOVE brazilian little rain cakes #maybe I'll bring my mom's recipe here someday ^^