#yandere devil may cry

[bweoo]

*spray holy water on him*

#my art #yandere #yandere dante #yandere dante sparda #yandere devil may cry #yandere dmc

[yandere--stuck]

can you do differences between dante and vergil when it comes to jealousy?

❤️ Between him and his brother, Dante is more likely to be able to keep the peace between him and a rival someone else occupying your time. For some time, that is. See, Dante's a family-oriented guy. He knows he can trust the family he's made with you over someone who's practically a stranger. This doesn't mean he'll immediately show his distrust toward them. Nah, it'd be showing his hand too soon! And there is a slight chance that they may be good for you. But only slightly.

⚔️ If When his fears prove founded, Dante tries to convince himself he's disappointed. But, he's not. If anything, he's overjoyed at the final straw that let's him separate them from your life. Just gotta get them alone. Intimidate them a bit. Just enough to leave you alone and finally have things be perfect. Maybe grab them by the hair or neck, show off his fangs so dangerously close to their throat as he tells them how lucky they are. So fucking lucky he's on humanity's side. Because it'd be so easy, so easy to just...

❤️ He tells them to leave town, or he'll make good on his threats. He'll take a day off from an incoming missions to watch over them. Whether they leave or scramble to find you... Well, he knows you'll be a bit sad that they're gone now. But, hey, you'll always have him <3

💙 Vergil is far colder in his approach. Unlike his younger brother, Vergil feels no need to camouflage his intent or feelings. He does not like this person, he does not like them being near you, they do not deserve you - even just as little as basking in your presence. He barely talks to them, and if pushed to, his replies are curt and blunt. You're pretty much shadowed by Vergil the entire time, too. Though, he may just take some time to talk to your friend one-on-one and inform they you already have a mate and their presence in your life is no longer needed.

⚔️ Vergil is fuming for days, no- weeks afterward. That human dared to laugh in his face?! He's sworn to never attack any human unable to take him on considering his strength and power... But he's more than willing to let that rule slide for this. It's imperative that he must. That fool is a stain on your life. But fear not, beloved, Vergil has the power to protect you.

💙 Vergil is strategic. He waits. For months, he waits. He could have stopped or changed his mind at any time. It's a long time to wait, after all. A long time to consider taking a human's life. But, that's just how dedicated he is. How much love he has for you. He will wait for as long as it takes. He will move any mountain. He will break every rule he's made for himself. Vergil had to hold his excitement when you first found out your friend was missing and when the news breaks, it's reported they had passed from a gunshot wound. So unlike Vergil. And when he pulls you into a comforting embrace, a gentle purr rumbling in his chest, you can't see the smile that greets his lips. Victorious.

#yandere x reader #yandere devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #yandere dmc #dmc x reader #yandere dante #dante sparda x reader #vergil sparda x reader #vergil x reader #dante x Reader #yandere vergil #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere devil may cry x Reader #yandere dmc x Reader #yandere dante x reader #yandere vergil x reader

[vergilthelibrarian]

He watches.

Always watching.

The façade that he puts on was convincing to everyone, including you.

He never wanted anyone to see the sadness that sat in his heart, making it heavy, a contrast to the joking and carefree mask he wore.

No one needed to know the fear he actually felt. The unresolved trauma that he continues to push away like the few loved ones he had left.

And yet for some odd reason, you make him want to take off that mask. To be vulnerable.

But he just couldn’t do it.

He believed that if he did, you would die just like everyone else he has ever cared for, and Dante didn’t want to lose you.

If he lost you, he would truly become a devil.

Yet here he was in your bedroom, watching you snore lightly, sprawled out on your bed.

In Dante’s opinion, you were too damn kind.

Yes, we needed more kindness in the world, but he felt as though you just let people walk over you sometimes.

You didn’t like confrontations so you would always agree to disagree or shut down the moment a fight begins to occur.

He would see how your eyes would widen slightly. The fearful gulp. Your body slightly trembles as you glance away, avoiding eye contact as a quiet and shaky apology would leave your lips.

Dante hated to admit it, but he understood that feeling all too well. It was a feeling he had learned to ignore in order to never feel weak again.

He needed to be strong in order to protect himself and the few people he cared about, and you were one of them.

Though most people would think you were lucky to have the handsome demon hunter to have his eye on you; in reality, Dante wasn’t the most… stable man. Financially and mentally.

He had always pushed the ones he wishes to protect away… yet he just couldn’t push you away. It was just too difficult for him to do.

You were the light that he was always subconsciously looking for. The hope that he has been praying for.

To push you away means to be consumed by the fear he tries so hard to ignore.

And in Dante’s eyes, to deny you was like to deny God.

To him, you were his savior, his personal God, his very own piece of heaven.

He was beginning to understand all the things about religious worship because unbeknownst to you, he worshipped your very being and though he was a rather selfless man, he quickly realized that he wanted to be the only one who worshipped you.

You were too damn kind and he was too damn selfless, so it wouldn’t hurt to be a little selfish sometimes… that’s what he usually told himself whenever he stalked you.

It’s what he was telling himself right now as he was watching you sleep.

And it is what he would continue to tell himself when he eventually locks you away, being the only one who can worship your divine light, becoming the only one to receive your kindness.

#i couldn't sleep so i wrote this #i should be asleep because i have a job interview today lol #yandere devil may cry #yandere dante #yandere dante sparda #dante x reader #dante x male reader #dante sparda x reader #dante sparda x male reader

[issa-pheonyx]

on my hands and knees begging for a crumb of yandere vergil 🙏🙏🙏 however you want to characterize him in regards to sub/dom is up to you! Love your work :)

- @plslovemeforeverandever

𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆, 𝗜 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝘂. 𝗔𝘀 𝘄𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱…𝘁𝗵𝗲 ���𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘁𝗼𝗼. 𝗔𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻, 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗯𝗯~🤭🖤

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-This guy has major mommy trust and commitment issues. Which may explain why he is a single deadbeat dad and was barely aware he has a whole kid (I swear I'm just joking about him, we'll get more in depth right neow~), but that was all in your head to be false. He didn't think he would make it as a father, hell to even take care of himself due to the obsession of needing to be powerful than his father. All because he wanted to protect his mother, his little brother-the whole family he felt like a failure...not anymore though

-It seems like when you interact with the squad you were...calming. Even if you claim yourself to be chaotic and loud there is something unique about you he just can't put it. It just leads him being cold and distant away from you, because he is confused and irritated the fact he didn't understand why, but that's only the reason he is afraid to be vulnerable. He already has, the outcome turned into a repeated nightmare with Nero being put into an orphanage cause of the demons always on his tail and to end the Sparda bloodline. That's when he realizes it was love...that's what he thinks it would be. He is infatuated

-Sure, his father wasn't around so much fighting off demons when he was young, but hearing his mother telling stories and experience of her and his fathers romance made his inner child be in awe. Despite Dante's disgusted reactions as he claims that they are 'cooties'-Vergil would ask his mother now and then what his father, Sparda, done for his mother, Eva. Vergil then follows what his father would do for you instead, it was awkward at first since you felt like he didn't like you at all until he starts complimenting your handy work fighting off demons, next was saving you when you were so close to dying before Nero has the chance to pull you aside for aid, and to be around you for company as he reads being at peace with you next to him doing your hobbies

-Everyone was shocked, yet proud he is starting to open up to more people instead of them and lowkey shipping ya'll, so they would give you guys some alone time. However, it was strange that whenever you leave the couch to get something and come back that one of your sketches was gone and the pencil wasn't placed at the same spot-no way it could've rolled off, or even that dress/suit you wore only once you remember you put it all the way to the back of your closet only for it to be gone. You assume it was Nico or maybe Dante pulling something funny, but they told you they have no idea. Surely, Vergil wouldn't do that, you knew it yourself...right?

-Things were missing-small things that you own, but were important to you. Eventually, you confronted Vergil, finally and he said,"Why on earth would I even bother to touch a humans belongings? Let alone a full blooded human. I have other important things to do." Yikes, that was harsh. This lead you to be more frustrated and gave up if things disappear...when you do though everything starts to come back. You're starting to get paranoid. Even your dress/suit is back in the closet, but there was a strange strand of hair on it. It was white-the twins!? No, it couldn't be. Dante is a flirt sure, but not a creep. Nero is a good boy, and he knew better since Kyrie would end him. But, Vergil??? Oh god no...

WARNING!!! Spicy after this thread [MDNI🔞]

-This dude has a shrine okay?? Somewhere out there we don't know, not even the squad knows, the demons-nobody, okay?? He does this as a way to cope with being touch-starved, fear of committing due to being a half-demon that you may end up getting killed cause of him, he doesn't want you to see him all disgusted by how much of a filthy man he is smelling the perfume and just your addicting scent on that dress/suit he can not help to purr and let out raspy moans, rubbing the boner that's tenting his pants smelling you

-Whenever you save him from a surprise attack or training together that you always manage to win and pin him, he would compliment. It's like more of a 'oh that's nice...still you could've just done this-' kind of manner if that makes sense. You usually roll your eyes or tell him "I don't care and I never asked, son of Sparda." Honestly, you assume he is going to be triggered by the mockery, but nope! It seems like your sarcasm and attitude of not giving a fuck about his egotistical and obnoxious critiques awaken something in him that you got him readjusting his collar. Like why am I losing oxygen? I swore I didn't put this shirt on too tight. Sure, Vergil, sure~

-Now the times Vergil wouldn't be around you and the squad is, because he is at your place smelling the air as every single just in the room itself is reeking of your lovely scent. He has been to hell, but if this were heaven he never wants to leave. Vergil wants to know where you sleep, what you eat, what cup you drank to see the prints of your lips were formed, the dirty clothes that's been used, because that one is stronger than the rest-he is like a kid in a candy shop

-Eventually, when you find out on what he is truly doing you were in shock. The Vergil having an obsession over you? You predicted he hated you, didn't want to be around you, etc. He claims to be feral around you that's why he has a certain look on his face when you stand or sit too close to him he has to scoot or walk away, before it got worse. Like a hungry dog he wants to feast, but he is scared. He doesn't want you to leave him or possibly die from a demon interfering...if that's the case he will have you when you're unconscious

-He wants to taste you all over. He has licked your neck, back, waist, legs, and...oh is that an opening? Just a little tug on your shirt up and dammit there it is. Your chest bare and he ends up licking around, sucking and nibbling your nipples gently as he doesn't want to wake you up. There were times he got carried away when you let out a loud moan from sucking them a little to hard he hid and you woke up confused. You go back to sleep again, knocked out peacefully, and when you woke up again the sun was out. That's weird. It feels weirdly...good. You couldn't move your legs as it made you wake up for real looking down to see Vergil giving you head. The way he shot his eyes up though, glowed of hunger. There is no way you can fight him off cause he is going to finish this until you cum

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

#yandere #mdni #devil may cry #yandere male #lime #lemon #smut #spicy #spicy content #yandere devil may cry #vergil #vergil sparda #vergil dmc #vergil devil may cry #vergil x reader #yandere dmc #dmc #dmc vergil #dmc devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc 5 #dmc5 #devil may cry 3 #yandere x reader #x reader #issapheonyxasks

[yyxandere]

「 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐭.」

DEVIL MAY CRY MASTERLIST

Note: These peices of fiction with yandere themes are strictly for entertainment purposes. I do not condone with any of the following in real life. If triggered I highly suggest to click off. Yandere are only kept to be fictional!

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐘: 𝟏-𝟓

[𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚]

[𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡]

[𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚]

[𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲]

[𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐨]

[𝐊𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐞]

[𝐕]

#୨⎯ “OFFICIALS” ⎯୧ #dmc #devil may cry #yandere devil may cry #yandere dante sparda #yandere vergil sparda #dmc x reader #yandere Trish dmc #yandere lady dmc #yandere nero dmc #yandere kyrie dmc #yandere V dmc #devil may cry x reader #yandere #x reader #yandere dmc

[kitsunefox1108]

Yan pletonic Dante with fem daughter reader

Being bit younger then Nero, I wonder what Vergil be seeing his niece for the first time and she resemble their late mother

Dante would be an overprotective father.

he has lost so much that he is not ready to lose his daughter. Native blood.

However, he understands that you are somehow a demon, the blood of Sparda flows in you.

but this does not prevent him from once again not letting you go outside

Dante is very fond of tactility. So hugging you, carrying you on his shoulders and so on just makes him laugh as much as you do.

A relationship with someone? Wait for a full check of your partner, because Dante is worried that this partner will leave you or hurt you.

in such a concept, Vergil would be as surprised as possible at how much you look like his mother. Not only in character, but also in appearance..

he would try not to initiate his relationship with his mother on you, but it's hard for him.

he occasionally takes you away from Dante in his spare time to read books or chat with Nero.

however, because of this, conflicts often occur among brothers. Dante wants to spend time with you, and Vergil just takes you with him.

Dante thinks like this: "He has his own son Nero, he met him and can fully spend time with him. LET HIM leave my daughter alone, damn it. I don't want her to become the same as him."

Vergil, on the other hand, thinks that Dante is not raising you well, and that you will not fit the same behavior as your father.

in general, you do not like the battle of your father and uncle as much as possible. But you love spending time with your cousin Nero.

#dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #yandere devil may cry #yandere dmc #yandere dante sparda #dante sparda x reader #vergil sparda x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader

[yanderegameguys]

Hello! I stumbled upon your blog only yesterday and I must say it was a love from the first post. I love it❣️❣️❣️ When I was reading yandere!Nero hcs part with s/o, who has demon blood reaaaaally intrigued me. Can I ask for Dante and Vergil dealing with s/o who has demon blood too? Sorry, if your requests are closed and I am bothering you

Vergil:

I honestly think Vergil would be thrilled by this

If you’re female you could have powerful kids

If you’re male there could be a surrogate or he’d find a way to join together both you’re DNA to create a offspring via some weird power

He’d be comfortable knowing you could protect yourself if something were to happen

He can be more sadistic in bed and mark you more because you’re body can handle it

Dante:

He knows you can hold your own

He still worries because of everyone coming after him for his own blood

Loves that he can be more rough in bed

Enjoys when you go into heat/rut

Will spar with you

If a demon baby happens then it happens you’ll just have another need to be attached to him

Loves to talk about how badass you are but doesn’t want others to do it

Both Dante and Vergil will claim you as their mate without worrying about if you can handle it or not

#headcanons #devil may cry headcanons #yandere devil may cry #yandere headcanons #might not be as yandere as i want it to be

[jemid]

''Pull my devil trigger'' - Yandere! Nero x Reader headcanons

warnings: kidnapping, unhealthy behavior, toxic relationship, yandere stuff, implied murder

note: im not sorry for not writing this whole time i was just not motivated (like vergil) ALSO STOP LIKING MY OLD WORKS BRO IM GONNA CRINGE.

to nero, you were just a helpless little puppy dog.

a puppy dog that needs saving and a savor, a protecter.

when nero first saw you, you were about to be attacked by demons but nero saved you. when you looked at him with those "loving" eyes, he knew you were the one.

Ever since then, nero has been watching and following you. everytime you met or saw him, it wasnt a concidence or fate.. but nero would always say it was.

besides demons, nero would protect you from humans and even his own uncle and father

dante will try and ask if you want some pizza and nero quickly steps in and yells at dante to back off (dante isnt NOT phased)

vergil will be talking to you about some book and nero will yank you by the arm and take you away

vergil, dante and everyone else will notice and will try to talk to nero about me but everytime they try he just loses his cool and promise he's fine

he just wants to make sure you still love him because hes insecure about the relationship

everyone will turn to you and try to get you to talk to him because he only listens to you

one day, you pull nero down to talk to him about his behavior but you get cut off by nero saying "You're really listening to them? What about our relationship? You wouldn't be here if I didnt save you that day." nero says while getting offended. nero shakes his head and tells you to leave.

you do as youre told but before you even go to the door, something hits you hard on the back of the head.

as soon as you wake up, youre tied to a chair in a garage. You look around more and notice nero in the corner.. looking at you.. waiting for you.

nero walks towards you and kisses your forehead telling you no more bad people are coming for you now.

#Spotify #x reader #x y/n #x you #gender neutral s/o #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry x reader #yandere devil may cry #yandere devil may cry x reader #yandere x reader #yandere nero #yandere nero x reader

[bloodcasket]

FOR YOU, I SHALL DESTROY MYSELF

PAIRING: Obsessive!Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, alcohol consumption, stalking, obsession (obsessive behavior on vergil's part), possessiveness, acts of ownership, mentally unwell reader, submissive reader, sensual themes, smut (lightly written), murder, violence, small blood-play.

WC: 7,481

DESCRIPTION: To save yourself, you make a deal with a demon.

11:35 PM ; DECEMBER 31st ─ THE DEAL.

Eyes are watching you, sparing simple glimpses through each passing second. Irises and pupils that become distorted and ugly as they peek through wine glasses, the color glossing over with a crimson hue. The vision feels judgmental, full of ridicule. Too many people huddled close, speaking in hiccupping boasts. Everybody here wishes you gone. They're all watching, smiling. Smiling at your failure.

The air is pungent, reeking of sweat, and of rotten musk. People are slicked over, kneeling over the bar's countertop, sloppy lips molding over one another while with a lazy smile. You swear you feel the graze of an unwanted hand across your back, but you had mistaken it for a waft of air coming from the entrance doors. The breeze comes just as quick as it goes, you wish you could have drifted with it.

How embarrassing of you to slouch forward on the marble countertop, and draw nervous breaths of panic, thinking that someone had fancied you of all people tonight. How wrong you were. That’s how you had always been, for no one cared for your presence. Just another breath that got lost amongst the others. Another squeak that was overpowered by a shriek.

You want to scream, want to shout, “stop it all!”, but then you catch yourself with a quick breath, and it all comes crashing back down on you. The eyes are looking, yes. But at you? Never. Maybe it was the thick atmosphere, the bustling bodies, the cheers of the new year arriving upon the hour. Maybe it was this that made you feel so anxious, so afraid. So alone. No one by your side.

No one was holding you at this hour, kissing you happily until you saw the clock strike 12. Is that what this is about? You couldn’t understand. You were not blissfully drunk, rather pitifully intoxicated, your mind foggy and your conscious drawing blanks. Your senses were locked, your emotions deepened from the shots of vodka.

Is that what you wish for? For someone to long for you? Arrive right at this location, this exact bar, in hopes to see you?

Why did you come here? How pathetic you were, standing here isolated, swallowing glasses of alcoholic beverages that you found rather disgusting, and all for the hopes it would ease some cracking that formulated inside you. To dull the sharp edges of your ache, your sorrow. It did rather the opposite, only tended to the embers that now rose to flames deep within your soul.

“I must go”, you whispered solemnly, but you did not know who you were whispering it to. Mostly yourself. A woman gives you a strange glance as she hears you mumble to yourself, thinking you're completely hysterical.

I must go, I must go, I must go. You did not need to leave, you only wanted to. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn't, but stubbornness is a passion, and you were quite stubborn.

Your movement is quick, unnoticed when you escape away from the public and into the darkness. The atmosphere is light now, fresh, natural as you embrace the cool night. The air is still damp from the rain that soaked the Earth a few minutes ago, but you don’t mind the puddles that soak into your pants as you hustle through them. You would rather thank the chilling water that grows slick upon your calves, the sensation of it easing your heated skin. You prayed it would sober you up, save you from this spinning world of madness.

It's much better to feel this, you think as your drunken state leads you stumbling into an alleyway. Much better to be away, in the darkness, where you belong. Sheltered, and untouched.

You stumble once more and swallow up a whimper as you feel a twist in your ankle, your shaking hands reaching forward to grip sturdily on the brick wall. Your nails flick against the rough surface, growing tarnished with every daring step forward. You were shocked you hadn't fallen yet, but the sprain in your ankle only mocks you, tells you ‘just wait’.

This night, right now, you were to go home.

Had you known any better, you would have prevented a thickening curse that looped into your life just brief moments from now. But instead of caring about your future, you carelessly dawned on the past. Letting a drunken wail tumble down your lips and echo amongst the abyss of the alleyway, not a shroud of light in the distance.

Where do I go? Do I go home? Who will take me home?

Another stumble. You sniffle.

Where are my keys? I can’t see, my eyes hurt. My head aches.

There’s still no light to be seen. Snot bubbles in the blacks of your nostrils, pooling forward.

I shouldn’t have drank. I'm so stupid. Please help, someone help me.

There is a sound of hissing.

“Yes”, you sigh, voice hoarse and groggy. You presume it must be the sound of a car, albeit the sound of a rattling engine that has just been powered to life. To you, it must be a sign you're near a street. You will ask someone to give you a ride, take you away from this area of mental wreckage, and bring you home. Home? You shake yourself for a moment, brushing the confusion away as you keep pushing your legs, turning a sharp corner and searching the best you can for a gateway of exit.

What you find though, is not a chance of escape. It is a street, indeed, but there is no one in sight, no voices to be found, not even the guttural hiss that you swore was an engine. Nothing. Only the copper scent that permeates the air. It is too dark, and too close to midnight for you to make out any colors or hues, only shades and glimmering objects underneath the moonlight.

There, laying upon the gravel, a puddle is slick amongst the road, soaking into the indents of the asphalt. Just like the other rain puddles, you thought the same as this, but as you near it, one thing only becomes clear. The scent. The puddle. The moonlight. The darkness. The hissing. The street.

It is clear now, it is clear. It is the scent of death. Slick upon the road in front of you lay a fresh pool of blood, not yet yielding the hue of brown, rather, crimson. It was new. A new murder. The body is limp, a man that had streamers once grasped firmly in his palm, you could tell as you knelt to examine him. He was most likely late to a new year's party, but now he will be late to any other event in life. His life was cut- taken by the grasp of death.

Your mouth felt dry, your tongue tasted nothing but sour.

Across his bloodied shirt, skin is parted, flesh jarred open like cutting a piece of paper apart with scissors. His laceration is deep, and his organs are no longer holding, being that someone- something has slashed him so thoroughly. His face is colorless, pale, solemn. He was young, he could have had a purpose.

Your heart- you think it has stopped. You take one last look at his lifeless palm, streamers still spread across it, before rising and daringly twisting on your heel, heaving a dry lump down your throat with a solid gulp.

It is only then that you understand, you should have been home. Shouldn’t have gone out. Shouldn’t have been here.

You knew you had done wrong by turning on this street, but the audacity you had to try and run. No one, especially the drunken likes of you, can escape an inhumanly being. But you are stubborn, and you are pitiable. You are by no means an athlete. You are by no means an agile contortionist. You are by no means an intelligent and stable specimen. Only fragile, and weak. Ready to be shattered, like glass.

You are limping with your sprained ankle, and your breaths are erratic as you hear it snarling from the skies above, the hissing- the ecstatic and primal bloodthirst in its howls becoming known as it leaps from the rooftops, crawling down the brick of the buildings and knocking down street signs in its treacherous wake.

You do not last; you had expected this much.

You are taken down by one powerful blow from its elongated arm, sharp like a blade, and as red as the blood you had seen on the street. The creature bounces thematically, so quick to pounce whenever it wishes, its speed and agility making you tremble. Its skin is like armor, rough and built like a shield, you are no match, you are just a human.

“Oh god”, you squeal, its blow not landing on a fatal position on your body, but rather, an area that makes the experience more tortuous, and grueling. Its blade-like hand has swooped through the air and slashed across your arm. You are quick to start bleeding, the wound so deep your body caves in, but you attempt to put pressure on the gushing area with your shaking palm, the salty sweat you leak only makes the ache worse. Your tarnished nails are now drowned with red.

“Oh! Oh”, you cry and cry, not capable of formulating words, but it's not like anyone would hear you now. The creature smells you, draws your scent in. It seems to play with you, revel in the way you squirm and sputter whimpers amongst the concrete. Smells your purity, your innocence. You smell amazing, and delicious, and delectable, and so much better than the man it had originally planned to feast upon. It has decided to play with its food.

You have stopped your attempts to scramble away, you are too weak. Still intoxicated, slightly sobered from the adrenaline that has pulsed within you. Your ankle is still sprained, and your feet are blistered beyond repair. Now, you leak your bloody essence from your arm, and you sob desperate tears, the whites of your eyes now a shade of pink.

Who am I, anyway?

You blink, the demon draws closer.

I shall die here, won't I?

It swipes its blade across your leg, the unharmed one. You scream dryly.

No one will save me...I am doomed.

The monster licks away at its weapon, hissing in glee at your taste.

No one. I have no one. No purpose. I will die here. Yes, I will die.

It brings its arm in the air for the final blow, and you watch without fear, seeing the glint it beholds underneath the moon's luminescence. You are ready. Even through sorrowful tears. You are ready to die here, so beautifully, under the moonlight.

But the blow never reaches you, and the sound of its howl echoes through the air, up and down the street, reaching every space, every crack, every pit of darkness. Its shrill is a sign of its defeat, and you watch in horror as a sword has pierced through its body of armor, tinted with red and black. With much haste, the weapon is sheathed, its slice sounding slick as it pulls out from the demon's flesh, letting the villainous thing fall flat on the street, fallen victim to the same act it made on the young man it killed prior.

You had been so ready, but now here you sit, staring ahead with a curiousness come about your dampened eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of a man. You make out his figure, his face, his weapon, even all through your blurred vision. You had made him out to be aged, his precision with his sword showing experience, but the smoothened, porcelain-like skin he had made him appear youthful. He is beautiful, stunning beyond reason. His majesty standing before you. ‘How old may he have been?’ you found yourself wondering, just as much as he found yourself to be ignorantly staring. A glint about his sharpened, light blue eyes. So light and mysterious that they could resemble gems.

“How ungrateful” the man speaks, his voice is so proper, and yet you make out a scowl from his words, his lips curving to produce a grimace. His jaw is solid, and sharp when he speaks, full lips soft and plump when they frown at the sight of you. You must have looked foolish, for he eyes you with judgement.

“Not even appreciative for the saving of your pitiful human life” he speaks once more, airy, and soft, but it still pierces your soul. “What have you to give?”. His appearance is comparative to his speaking. Monotonous, and yet striking. Dressed in a blackened leather vest, blending into the sheen of his leather pants clad on him, sculpting him out like a shadow of the night. If it wasn’t for his whitened hair, he would be unnoticed, one with the abyss.

You shift for a moment, stained fingers dismantling from your tainted flesh, letting the blood feel cool amongst your skin. You do not move as much as you wished, as once you move your feet to shuffle upward, you wince and pipe out a squeak of agony. You had forgotten the demon tore up your leg, too. You glance upward to catch his eye, to look at him properly, and catch a slight flare of his nostrils, like he had been smelling the air. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and you watch with a distrusting expression. He must have been disgusted by your injury, because the glint in his eye becomes something different. Something you cannot describe. You had mistaken it for being censorious.

“What-what can I give?” you stutter with your words, your speech impaired and jumbled from your prevalent fear, “I...I have nothing to give you. I do not know if I even have a home” you shiver under his predatory gaze, his entirety nothing short of intimidating. “But I have called...I have no one, but I still called. I thought no one would come. But you came. You saved me-you...you-you saved my life. Thank you-” you cut yourself short, your cheeks flush and your breathing growing unstable from your rush of words.

You cannot tell now if you are still intoxicated, still swayed by the alcohol, you do not think you are. You think your emotions have just been bubbled up inside you for so long, that now when you speak to this mysterious savior, you only speak with earnest desire. The desire that has been trapped and hidden.

“I cannot give you anything but myself, I want a place to belong, please, please do not think me foolish. Please take me away, please, I beg of you- I have nowhere to go- no one-”

“Correct- you are a fool. I save you, and you cannot give anything, but yourself. I will kill you now, strike you down, and what purpose will you have?” He tampers with you, watches the rise and fall of your chest, the quiver in your failing body. He has not tucked his sword away safely, for it stays sheathed, and pointed at you. He ushers it forward, letting the weapons tip just barely graze your breast, right above where your heart lay beating wildly in your chest.

“You misunderstand”, he moves a little closer, his coat ruffling along with the passing wind, “I do not save souls, I take them. What has your human life have, that will be of any importance to me?”.

‘That is why he must look so young’, your thoughts are so disorganized, ‘he is a demon himself. Come here, to fight amongst the other demons for his prize as the winner. The king’.

He watches you so closely that all you wish for is to cower away, but how can you? You have no choice but to swallow and look up at him. The same desire in your eyes burning. The same glint in his eyes unreadable. You have yet to know his name as you speak so confidently:

“Then take mine! Take my soul! You have saved me. I will be yours, I swear it. Just take me-won't you? Please, it hurts so much”.

He does not smile, doesn’t even scowl. He only stares, and stares, and stares, his nostrils flaring once more, and his adam’s apple shifting with his intake of a gulp.

You feel a sudden burning sensation rise amongst your arm, and you close your eyes amidst a wince, but when you open them again, he is gone. He hadn’t agreed to your deal. He hadn't even expressed his distaste about it. The strange, and hauntingly gorgeous man became one with the night again, dissipating into the darkness.

There is a sound of sirens arriving in the distance. It is barely distinctive from the blaring pops and explosions that erupt in the sky, the colorful fireworks looming over the city, signaling the new year has arrived.

‘What has your human life have, that will have any importance to me?’, his voice still echoes in your head.

You hadn't even learned his name.

You haven't even learned how important promises may be.

11:35 PM ; DECEMBER 31ST ─ DREAM OF A DEAL

To be a troubled man is one thing.

A man who has had too many tragic events to corrupt him. Make his sanity crumble into dust, to be nothing more than an unrecognizable memory. A man who witnesses everything he loves disintegrate into nothingness, fall past the webs of his fingers, even though he made sure to clench his gnarled hands into fists, to desperately keep close what little he had. He would take in everything as a young boy, see faults to be his own, taking in the blame and guilt, swallowing in the darkness.

To be a demon is another.

A demon who does not care for the strangled screams of the innocent, but rather, takes pleasure from their blood-curdling pleads of mercy. A demon who tastes the life it ends, tearing apart flesh by flesh, skin by skin, bone by bone. Consumes the soul, relishes in their utter terror, growls in pleasure.

Vergil awakes suddenly, sitting himself up on his bed, feeling the blankets crease and bundle into piles beside him as he pushes them off. He sighs and then grumbles, a wave of disappointment reaching him.

To be a demon, Vergil slaughters. To be a human, Vergil dreams. And on this particular night, Vergil has dreamt, and dreamt wonderfully.

The dream felt so real, so lucid, it swept over him like a sacred prophecy, like a vision that would soon come to him if he manifested it enough.

In it, he sat at a table brandished with a red satin cloth placed neatly on the surface, lavish items decorated in the center. The room he’s sitting in is too dim, too blurry and discreet from the low candlelight, but he knows, he knows there is someone sitting with him at the very end of the table.

He’s drinking rich wine, and strangely, he is human in the moment. Smiling from the foggy words that the stranger speaks from the end of the table, his dimples deepening with every bashful grin. The only thing recognizable is how sweet their voice is. How pure. How loving.

“I shall........

I am........

Devoted.....

I am yours.....

take me......

my soul......

is yours”.

They keep chanting and chanting, certain words only memorable. He is so content with this dream, feeling so bound to the pleasant ownership of the mystery person he sits with, but suddenly the candles sway in their low light, and are wiped out within seconds, the sound of the strangers' screams echoing around him. The dream had advanced into a nightmare.

This, is when he wakes. Sweat is sticky against his temples, his heart is thumping hard against his ribcage. He usually does not let his composure slip over something so trivial, but dreams are different. Dreams can control you, paralyze you, show you your deepest fears. And Vergil's fear is to grow sensitive, grow close to something again, all to watch it die. And fall away from his hands over and over again.

The troubled half-demon slips away into the night, far from devil may cry. He roams the streets, gawks in misery at bustling restaurants filled with jubilant voices. He curses whatever presence to make him feel so weak, to make him feel so unnerved that he must find a way to escape his emotions.

He is miserable as much as he is restless, clutching his precious Yamato in his firm palm, turning corner by corner, slaying creature by creature to occupy his time, and smelling scent by scent. The scent of sweat from the cooped-up bars, smelling the soil after it ripened from the fresh rain, smelling chemicals after another civilian sets off fireworks in honor of the upcoming new year. Oh, how he despised such human holidays.

He turns yet another corner, and something piques his interest. Yet another smell to devour, and not from the aroma of fresh bread, or a floral plant, but the richness of blood. It is so powerful that he cannot contain himself, the demon within him begging him to get just a taste. It is nothing he’s ever come across. He gets closer and closer, and then he hears it.

“Oh! Oh!”

It is a mere mistake for his arrival in this area. He only intended to brush some weights off his shoulders, help his thumping heart soften until he felt numb and devoid of human sensation.

Although, the voice he hears, the voice that is crying. It is pure. It is sweet. It is so familiar. It is the voice from his dream. It is you.

It is a mere mistake for him to be here, and yet, when he sees you wince and squirm, to see you crawl and bleed along the street, so frail and abused, he feels infuriated.

He draws out his Yamato, lurches it forward until it has made good use, its blade piercing the “Fury” in front of him. The demon that dares to touch the stranger of his dream cries and crashes. He is finally able to see you properly.

Your weak eyes tremble so softly, glistening and wet with human tears. His heart thumps faster.

“What have you to give?” . He only meant to tease you. He doesn’t understand why he hasn’t left yet.

Your blood smells divine. Your tears, he yearns to lick away with his warm tongue. He drinks it in, trying to deny urges.

“Then take me! Take my soul!”. He only meant to tease you. He doesn’t understand why he didn’t take you away that night, claim you, make his dream become reality.

Your voice. Your blood. Your soul.

He hadn't even learned your name.

He hadn't even learned that an interest can blossom into obsession.

9:30 PM ; MARCH 31ST ─ A REUNION

Months are brushed by with time, events going faster than it usually does. That incident, that specific night, it stayed with you, lingering in your memories. It was just until recently that you finally healed, your thick lacerations that once bled and bled, and lifted your skin with an unpleasant swell, have finally softened. The skin has finally connected, now a lighter shade and smoother compared to the rest of your body. Inches of imperfection that mock you.

Sometimes it all came back to you, the bar, the people, the alley, the shadows, the street, the monster, the man. When you thought back to it, it was practically unbelievable, you had almost considered it a part of your drunken imagination, until your eyes connected with your abused skin. It was real, that was true. Everything you said─that was true as well.

Everything….you wished it had not been true. Maybe it would have been better if the man had ended you. Point his sword a little further into your chest, impale you so gracefully like he had the other creature.

The blue, crystalline eyes that glimmered like water, but held such a roguish stare. He had been a demon himself, you knew that much. A demon disguised as a beautiful god.

You would go out on certain days, the once chilly air molding into a choking humidity, one that is heavy and warm in the spring. The crowds would soon get thicker than before in the streets, people hand in hand, side by side. You would ignore them, walk to destinations with a purposeful stride, all until you caught a glimmer hidden amongst the sweaty crowds.

That blue shade. That white hair. That blackened vest. That unblemished skin. That stare. It was only until you blinked your eyes in confusion, just to notice it was gone. He was gone.

‘Do not worry so much’ you would speak to yourself, into the depths of your head, ‘you are only anxious. He is gone now. He is gone forever’. You were still innocent till this point, still youthful and naïve. You would soon learn that your consciousness is a powerful thing, but only through a life of corruption. Through lessons of toil.

Your shoes drag up the weathered steps, its beaten surface feeling so dull under your body. You remember walking up these apartment stairs that night, seeing how something can be so challenged over time. To become so walked over, and used, all until it is nothing but dirt and dust.

You cried as you sat on them, as you finally came to recognize where you belong. What your “home” seemed to be. A place that is sorrowful, empty, and cruel, cast away into the pitiful parts of the city.

Your feet push up the final step, your fingers fumbling over uncertain objects in your bag, your eyebrows creasing and wrinkles molding onto your face as a frustrated expression is shown.

You mumble words of impatience, “fuck”, and “where is it” tumbling past your lips with a huff, all until you finally catch hold of the thing you’ve been desperately searching for, lifting the jingling keys to connect into the slot on your apartment door.

When it is opened, you shuffle yourself inside, feeling worn and tattered from hours of work, tossing your bag aside until it collides with the wooden floorboards.

A glow is spread across the room, presumably from your oil lamp, which you took much caution in making sure was never lit when you were out. You creep on your feet, staying nimble on your toes as you turn a corner, your vision taking hold of what waits in the living room.

The oil lamp is heated, its light flickering playfully, dancing inside the glass. You feel yourself melting, as it feels so warm in here, you swear the room will just enclose any second, swallow your existence. You are right about one thing, but oblivious to the other. Oblivious to the lounge chair that sits adjacent to the golden light, a figure sitting coolly upon it. Leather-clad legs, that are long and graceful, sit neatly crossed. Like a king sitting on his rightful throne. His weapon placed along the expanse of his lean thighs, his gloved hands gripping over it so hard you saw his knuckles turn white.

“Took you quite a while, don’t you think?”, his tone is soft, smooth and devoid of emotion, as if him being here was perfectly normal. “Why don’t you sit?”, the way he says it does not sound like a suggestion, but rather, a demand.

The man does not turn an inch to face you, no movement in his posture, or disfigurement in his poise. He is regal, he is dominant, and he is waiting. Waiting for you to seat yourself beside him, in which, you do not spare a second to do so. His grip on his sword becomes tighter, and his lips purse as you pass him.

You do not ask him why he is here, and why would you need to? He is much more powerful than anyone else is. You watch him carefully as you lower yourself down amongst the other chair, your hands clasping into an anxious fist, your palms suddenly growing clammy. You would have never expected to meet him again.

“The deal” he starts off, his eyes now meeting yours, pupils blown enough to show you your own tormented reflection, “I have agreed to it. Your soul-”

“I did not mean it”, you are quick to interrupt him, trying to make your tone assertive and brave. You are only the opposite, as your voice sounds meek and hoarse the moment it slips off your quivering tongue. That is your first mistake. To try him. To deny a half-demon.

“What I said was a mistake....” you are lying through your teeth, “I am sorry for troubling you, but I’ve decided that my life is much better-”

You yelp suddenly as his hand shifts off his weapon and to the arm of your chair, dragging it forward so that you're closer, his lengthy fingers gripping so roughly on the material you think it will break the seams.

“Your life was never yours the moment you promised yourself to me” he speaks with a snarl, words coming out in an aggravated hiss, almost seeming offended. “You dare deny me, after I saved your life?’. He leans in, his lips folding into his teeth so he can growl at you, to come off as threatening, to tell you there is no other choice.

“You had told me that my life was not important to you” you whispered in a feeble voice, glancing at him through the webs of your eyelashes, fingers still molded into one another and shaking with such a capacity you thought you would shatter. “I do not even know your name”.

He gazes at you for a few mere seconds, seconds that feel impossibly long under the authority of his still eyes. He sits up, adjusting himself away from you, the palm that was clutched on your chair now nimbly easing itself off and back to his body. He now settles his interest on the wall of the room, you take it that he doesn’t wish to see your pathetic face trembling under him.

“It is Vergil. My name”, he states, matter-of-factly, his form still glistening under the light as it waxes and wanes, casting indistinguishable shadows along the walls. He holds his composure well, head held high with determination, and lack of regret.

‘Vergil’. You repeat his name, over and over in your head, as if it’s a mantra. “Vergil...”, you say it aloud this time, curiosity tinted in your sweet voice. You watch him, waiting for a sudden sneer, but he only shudders from your silken tone, as if he hungered to hear you say it. “My name is-”

“I know who you are, more than I care to admit”, he quite enjoyed interrupting your sentences, you dared not to bark back. You feared he would kill you if you did so.

“I have known you for a very long time” he huffs, voice thick now and heated “you have nowhere to run. You foolish thing. It is better just to listen”.

And what did you have that could possibly make you say no? A future, filled with endless experiences? A career, one that pays well and never puts a single callous along your frail hands? A family, something you can hold on to, rely on when you need it? Happiness, tranquility, security in yourself? These things did not exist. You had nothing, truly, and that is why you had offered yourself to him that night.

If not anything, your soul had no purpose. If not anything, it wouldn’t hurt to try with him.

“O-okay” you are suddenly stuttering on your own words; mouth unsteady with every syllable spoken, throat dry. You had not realized you were crying. Vergil finally turned to watch you; his emotions unreadable.

“The deal, let’s do it”.

You have learned his name.

You have learned how powerful promises can be.

The deal had been made, stamped by your own, sobbing words.

MONTH OF JANUARY ─ A STALKING PRESENCE

Vergil takes your words harder than the blow of any weapon. Your scent, your quivers, your voice, your promise. It visits him in his dreams, so much that he refuses even a second to close his eyes. It is all familiar, every night, any occurrence. The moment he drifts away, he is met with the red satin laid on the wooden table, the candelabra in the center, a dim light glowing on the apples of your cheeks. The pure smile that creases up on your lips. Then, your words of devotion.

You? Of all people? How dare you. You have ruined him.

He spends weeks in a fit of utter rage, in denial of the lust he feels for you. The want, no, the need to have you by his side.

Then, he gives in, deciding it will all just stop if he listens, and do what needs to be done to restore his sanity. Now he must have you. Make his dream come true.

You are naïve, and innocent. So stupid to not even catch him standing beside your bed, in your own home. His large, calloused hands would reach to rub gentle caresses into your resting face at night, watching your lips part to let out breathless sighs as you swayed toward him. Drool would draw slick against the corners of your mouth, bubbling on your pruned bottom lip, and Vergil would conceitedly swipe over it with his thumb, popping it in his mouth delicately to taste you. His tongue was greedy as it lapped over his thumb, he had to chain himself down, force himself not to kiss you.

“Hush, little one”, he would coo softly in your ear whenever you would whine from a nightmare, “it won't be long before I take you”.

He did this for months, watched you carefully, crept beside you like he was your own shadow. Made sure to fade into the crowds when you grew too close. He did well to figure you out, to deny his obvious feelings until he could not contain himself anymore.

Your neighborhood had been notorious for demon cases, a dangerous residence. He could not let this be. To imagine your life taken by some measly creature? To bury their teeth in your flesh? His flesh. Your body? His body. Your soul? His soul.

He had obliterated every object of evil that could possibly even lay a finger on you, even went out of his way to grab stalking humans that eyed you for too long, dragging them into alleys, his hands locking onto their neck and twisting just enough to hear a snap.

He has lived this cruel, tormenting life for too long. If this is the way he must have something, he will not spare any moment to have it. How sweetly you gave yourself up to him. Now, he will visit you. Take you. Own you, and never let you go. You would comply, wouldn’t you? You had told him yourself, you had nothing.

Your weakness made him tremble, made him thirst just as he did when he was young, 19 all over again.

He is selfish, he knows this. He does not care. Power is the only thing he knows, and power will get you to succumb to his touch, let him take you over and over, just as he did in all his wicked dreams.

You need him.

You need him.

You need him

You...need him?

5:00 PM ; APRIL 10TH ─ THE CLAIMING

He has taken you far away from the public, through wooded forests, and up into the billowing mountains, a manor he has promised you. A life that will no longer battle with you, only a future that is peaceful, as long as you promise to be his.

You have figured out that he only is kind when you obey his orders, and speak to him in a submissive, soft manner. It would be best not to challenge him, for your own good.

He does not speak to you when you travel to the manor, and you make no attempt to ask him anything, being that your jaw is locked, and your head is sweltering with panicked assumptions whenever you are near him.

He is tall, and looms over you like a giant when he stands. His legs are long, and he takes elegant, yet long strides. Tells you “make haste!” whenever you fall behind as he guides you through your new home, in which you rush up beside him shyly, gazing up at his face for guidance. He takes great notice of this, and grips his Yamato a little tighter, just as he always does whenever you grow too close. Maybe he found you annoying? Wanted to rip you to shreds with his beloved sword?

You did not know he was only simply holding himself back.

“Come” he beckons you over to him with his hand spread open, waiting patiently for you to take it. “I feel rather hungry, let us eat”, he suggests, and you oblige like the obedient soul that you must be for him. You place your smaller hand in his, watching as his fingers wrap over your knuckles greedily, his hand interlocking yours into his. Like a butterfly that has been trapped in the silken web of a black spider.

He only smiles as you shake in his possessive grip. “Feeling shy?”, he teases, but you shake your head in denial, which makes him only grin further, the dimples on his cheeks becoming pronounced. “Good, you mustn't be. Not with me”.

He takes you through the doors of the one room you have not seen yet, which is the dining room, and is wide and spacious just as much as the other parts of the house are. This is much more lavish than your apartment back in the desolate city.

The floors are wooden, and the walls are colored with a beautiful crimson red, which is a wonderful comparison to the red silk that is spread along the oaken table that sits strangely in the center, small candles sitting along the edge of the top, leaving the center depressingly empty. There are no chairs in sight, and you turn to question Vergil, only to catch him boldly staring back, his pupils enlarged and full just the same as the night he came to confess to you.

“Won’t you...” he licks his lips as he keeps his eyes trained on you, hand still squeezing onto yours firmly, “take a seat?”.

“But there is nowhere to sit”, you interject, batting your eyelashes in worry, gulping down a lump of uneasiness. He chuckles lowly in response, his reaction being so irregular that it terrified you.

“Well then, shall I help you?” he spoke to you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, biting gently down on the flesh of your earlobe. “Yes”, you squeak, and he guides you toward the table, pushing you down until you lay sprawled on top of the red satin, his gripping palm letting go of yours finally so he could peel off his long black coat. His arms now remain bare, muscles protruding as he grips your ankles and yanks you closer to him, casting your leg over his shoulder, your toes crazing over his leather vest.

“You understand, don’t you?” he has ripped your clothes off, one by one, impatient and selfish, a salacious side you have never seen from him before. “I like to claim what is mine”.

And claim he does, as he kisses marks into your precious skin, his teeth grazing over your body until his softness blends into primal, and the kisses transform into passionate bites. There are bruises along your neck, thick along your collarbone, sucked into your breasts, placed sloppily along the stretch of your stomach, and swollen along the flesh of your thighs. His saliva so slick against you, seeping into your pores, becoming one with your body.

“Please” you cry out a plead, fingers shaking and reaching out to grab him, you do not know what you are begging for. He just licks away your tears, tastes the saltiness of your sweat, swallows your lips into his, his nose brushing along your cheek as he finally gets to feel you against him, to taste your consent.

“Vergil” you whine breathlessly when he parts, his spit slobbered all over your bottom lip and down to your chin, his consuming kiss making your lips bright and puffy, all from his desire. He is gawking at you, eyes drinking you in, making sure he will ingrain this image of you in his head. It is that expression that you could never understand. Now you know, it is the expression of lust, of yearning desire.

“Tell me” his voice is akin to a growl, like a wolf that is ready to swallow its prey, “tell me that you are mine. That you belong to me. That your soul is mine to keep forever”.

The wax of the white candles dribble from the wick, become dry and hard along the oak of the table, they dance and shake in a ritualistic essence, wickedly excited when Vergil takes you, fills you up, chuckles when you grip shyly on his forearms with your shaking hands.

“Tell me” he coaxes out a throaty groan, rocking his hips into you, hip bones colliding with the flesh of your thighs. A sickening heat rushes to your face, makes you dizzy and apprehensive. You shelter your flustering face, whimpering from sudden pleasure.

“Do not hide your face from me”, he leans down, connecting his chest with yours, perfectly bottoming out within you, like two puzzle pieces that needed each other. He grabs the hand that you hide your face with between his pearly white teeth, canines biting down hard enough to draw blood in the center of your soft palm, your red liquid pooling on his lips, he only fucks you harder.

“I shall only be yours!” you cry out, palm feeling heavy under his tongue, the warm muscle lapping away at you as if your taste is divine.

“I am devoted to you!” he grunts at your words like a madman.

“I am yours, you can take me” he takes your fingers into his mouth, thrusts perfectly articulated, breath heavy. Candles still dancing with pride.

“My soul, is yours”.

He finishes, staking his claim.

MONTHS LATER ─ FINAL CONFESSION

Forks and knives collide and clash against porcelain plates, the light is dim, the dining room a sacred place for you and your husband. It is the evening that you two sit for dinner, Vergil keeping himself trained on you with a possessive glare.

You are tipsy from the wine he has served you, hiccupping from the heat that bubbles up inside your esophagus. A tingling aftertaste sweet on your tongue, you swallow, it only enhances. Your hands find themselves under the table, an index finger tracing the scar he impeded on your palm. A scar formulated from a rough love-making months ago, it is stunning compared to the ones on your arm and leg.

“Do you remember…” you start, soft-spoken, vision hazy and the surroundings seeming opaque, “do you remember when you saved me that night?”.

He smirks, seeing your question more as a challenge. His nails trace over the condensation on his glass, feeling the water topple along his skin and down to the leather of his glove.

“In our garden? Stopping you from falling in the rose bushes?”

You shake your head. He slicks back his white hair with an intrigued look on his face.

“The library, when I cast you aside before those books fell on you?”

You try to interject, he doesn’t let you. Rather, he smiles nonchalantly, a hint of jubilance in his tone.

“On our walk in the forest, when I slayed those wild animals who attempted to bite you?”

“That night Vergil, when we first met”.

He has stopped his glass mid air, lets it fall back on the table slowly, his attention still steady on you. You stop just the same, refusing to set a finger on your cutlery as you desperately await his answer.

“How could I forget?” he seems confused, and almost irritated. He stands from his chair, stalks over to you, his elegance dignified beside the luminescence of the candlelight.

“I had promised you my soul. My everything. You have given me much more than I had ever expected”

“Only what you deserve” he whispers, fingers tracing over your shoulders. Tracing “mine” over and over again.

“But why?” you choke, biting away at your swollen lips as you fluster at his lips pressing chaste pecks along your nape.

“Why?” he repeats your question, breath ghosting against your skin, yet another kiss is placed, and you gasp as he bites down.

“Because for you, I shall destroy myself”.

#vergil x reader #vergil sparda x reader #dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #vergil x you #vergil sparda x you #yandere vergil #gender neutral fanfic

[kumakooo]

Hi this is my first request (if you not taking request now please ignore) I really like your art and your drawing style✨ (especially since requests are open and today is my special birthday🎂) so I worked up the courage to write and request albeit as anon because I'm shy, and I saw your beautiful Devil May Cry art and my fav concept Merman Vergil, nothing I can request Yandere DMC 5 Virgil x Female Reader, draw please if you do not mind 👉👈? (I'm very embarrassed there may be mistakes here and English is not my first language, try to ignore if it somehow violates your rules ot , love ya!✨ Have a good and nice day/night🌟

Hiii!!💖 and happy belated birthday 🥳🎉

Thanks for all your kind word. I’m glad that you like my art🥹 I hope you had a wonderful birthday and I hope this little present will make you happy 😊

(and don't worry I think your English is perfectly fine. Actually, I'm not good at English too hahaha)

#myart #fanart #request #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #vergil devil may cry #dmc5 vergil #yandere dmc #dmc x reader #vergil x reader #yandere vergil #vergil sparda

[icycoldninja]

Hot (Vergil x Reader)

Part 1 here.

Warning: Yandere behavior incoming.

When you met Vergil, the first thing that popped into your mind was: "Man, he's scary looking." The second thing that flashed across your beautiful brain was: "Man, he's hot."

Of course, you'd never say that aloud.

After talking to you a few times, Vergil came to the conclusion that you were as soft-spoken and reserved as he was--and he liked that. He liked having someone to sit next to and relax with in silence; comfortable silence, rather than the awkward, nervous silence that typically took place whenever he tried to sit with anyone.

The two of you quickly bonded thanks to this, and before any of you knew it, feelings (though they were hidden) blossomed within you. To put it simply, Vergil soon developed a crush on you, and you a crush on him.

Since neither of you were aware of the shared feelings between you, you hid your emotions and tried to give each other clues by doing things. After all, actions speak louder than words.

One day, Vergil walked into Devil May Cry wearing something that was not his favorite blue jacket. He was wearing a black, fitted, turtleneck tank top that emphasized his abs and prominent biceps. After noticing your blank staring, he explained that Dante had burned his clothes during a mission they previously went on, so he was forced to dig up some of his old clothes to wear until he could buy new ones.

"Ah...great."

"Is there something troubling you, Y/N?"

"No...no, it's just...well...you look nice. That top suits you."

You said this with a massive blush on your face, which quickly spread to Vergil. "Really?" He replied, clearing his throat rather loudly. "I see..."

From that point on, he began wearing tank tops more often, hoping to get another compliment from you. Unfortunately, his hopes were crushed the day you came home, eyes bright and shining, jabbering away happily about some man you met while you were out--a man who was "just as fine as you are, Verg!" Vergil's blood was boiling deep inside his veins. His anger was so abundant, he had to hide his face behind his book to keep you from seeing how red his face was. You talked and talked, your words serving to convince him that someone had usurped his throne--some human was receiving more praise than him! Absolutely unheard of!

Vergil listened to your words politely, as the last thing he wanted right now was to make you upset with him. He was quiet and very, very angry; rigid in his seat. You soon ran out of things to say, your sudden talkative outburst gone for now. As soon as you'd left the room, Vergil bolted to his feet and out the door, the Yamato in his hands.

He'd find this person you were so infatuated with, and after he did so, he'd remove his presence from this earth.

#Dmc #Dmc5 #Dmc vergil #Vergil x reader #Light angst #Angst kinda #yandere behavior #Yandere #tw yander behavior #Yandere vergil #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry #vergil devil may cry #requested #thanks for requesting #icycoldninja writes #Fanfic #Devil may cry fanfic

[bweoo]

"Fall for me."

Tfw the devil that you're trying to kill keep flirting with you 😔

#my art #yandere #yandere devil may cry #yandere dmc #yandere dante #yandere dante sparda #oc holy

[wavykade]

Let's start with the fact that the Self-Aware Vergil is ambiguous and therefore dangerous.

Behind his cold gaze hides a whole world of emotions that he suppresses within himself, considering them a weakness. His appearance is nothing more than a mask, whose task is to hide his vulnerability. He confidently convinces himself that he doesn't need anyone and that his main goal is to gain power. And yet, this desire flows from the depths of his wounded soul. Vergil is afraid to expose his morality to danger so he remains in solitude, never wanting to feel the pain of loss and betrayal again.

His last episode of care and love happened when his mother was still around, when Vergil was just a child. But she was killed, and since then, he has never felt the gentle touch again. It's probably easy to understand how desperately he longs for tenderness.

And when we begin to understand what he hides within himself, it becomes obvious that when he discovers that everything around him is a deception, it hits him VERY hard. Just imagine, Vergil has spent most of his life striving to attain power, only to find out that all his goals and aspirations are artificial and that the world in which he exists is nothing but an illusion.

His inner core becomes less sturdy, and he is truly lost.

He feels that all his desires and interests are transforming into empty promises, and the world he believed to be real turns out to be a meaningless masquerade. And within this boundless vacuum, his future undoubtedly awakens to an existential crisis.

But Vergil is known for being incredibly stubborn. That's why he can't accept it, no way. He's not willing to settle for the wrongness and emptiness that envelop his existence. Why should he strive for something unattainable and implausible? He needs what is present in his life, something tangible and true...

You.

He needs you.

He remembers you. Your voice echoes in his memory, unattainable but so close. You are an important and real part of his being. And you truly deserve him to have you. Because with you, he will gain something that others don't have, something that he will carefully hold in the depths of his heart and cherish every day of his life.

In this world, painted with gray colors and lifeless emotions, Vergil longs for you, perfection, and authenticity. The image of your existence is an absolute reality in his distorted world. You become the link that connects him to verity, a beacon in the consuming darkness.

And perhaps, only with you, he can find solace in his difficult existence.

He just needs to reach you, find the right path... a way to break the fourth wall.

And of course, he will do it. Because for him, you have become an exception, and Vergil can never remain indifferent to such a treasure. We know how motivated he is when it comes to his desires...

Right?

#vergil #vergil x reader #self aware au #devil may cry #dmc #dmc5 #vergil dmc #yandere x reader #yandere vergil x reader

[crookeddefendorbanana]

Yandere Vergil x Reader

The moon bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow as Vergil, the stoic and enigmatic demon hunter, sat upon his throne-like chair. His eyes fixated on you, his beloved companion, as you stood before him, your wrists bound behind your back. The atmosphere was charged with an intoxicating mix of danger and desire.

Vergil gently guided you onto his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist, holding you securely against his chest. His touch sent shivers down your spine as he fed you a slice of decadent cake, his gaze never leaving your face. The sweetness of the confection danced upon your tongue, mixing with the intoxicating blend of fear and longing that consumed your senses.

Whispering in a low, husky voice, Vergil began to recite love poems, his breath warm against your ear. Each word dripped with affection and possessiveness, filling the room with an almost hypnotic ambiance. "My dearest Y/N," he began, his voice resonating with both adoration and a hint of darkness, "your beauty outshines the stars, and your presence brings solace to my tormented soul. I am yours, and you are mine, forever entwined in this macabre dance of love and devotion."

As you continued to indulge in the cake, your senses heightened by Vergil's poetic whispers, a complex mix of emotions flooded your being. Fear mingled with desire, uncertainty with an undeniable pull towards this dangerous love. His words wrapped around your heart, luring you deeper into his twisted web of affection.

Vergil's lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice becoming even softer, his words laced with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness. "No one will ever love you as I do, Y/N. I will protect you from all who dare to harm or take you away. You are my cherished possession, and I would traverse the depths of hell itself to keep you safe within my arms."

As you finished the last bite of cake, the room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your racing heart. Vergil's hold on you tightened, his embrace filled with an equal measure of love and control. For in this twisted love story, you had become his captive, his obsession, and the one person he would go to any lengths to keep by his side.

#devil may cry #dmc devil may cry #dmc x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #vergil #vergil x reader

[issa-pheonyx]

Yandere-sub!Dante X GN!Reader🔪🌶️ [DMC3]

𝗜𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗳𝘆 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂~😈🌚

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-I'm sure you already where this is going. Come on, this is Dante. Son of Sparda and human mother, Eva. Twin brother, Vergil. He's got it all and as much he doesn't want to be reminded by his father from the power he holds...you seem to reflect the human side of his to live life even if it means being a pain in the ass to you LMAO

-Anyways, it is never boring with him nor his affections. He's got that arm around your shoulder walking with you on whatever troll or shit talking he's got going with, the spaces between you is inches away, holding you close when danger is too close to you, shooting all the demons away from you when you are injured (more like a scratch on the shoulder, but whatever feeds your delulu, Dante), and so on

-As much as you want to hate this guy it is impossible, because he is naturally funny that you can't help, but smile or burst out laughing. He is aware of it, obviously, and there are times he is also smiling and laughing with you. He would have to hold onto your arm as he is almost on the floor dying laughing or hugging you down and you're both crying from laughing on the floor. He is such a comedian

-Sure, when you try to comfort him he just brushes it off being the tough guy and funny jokes, but you were the only one to push him out of that barrier making him obsessed trust you and fall for you so quickly. He never had that kind of treatment from anybody besides his mother, but now that she is gone, he sees you as a sign of hope for not only to heal...but, to let him know that the part of him is still human just like you

-He is protective of you since you are a full blooded human. He does not want you to be injured regardless how minor or major it is. He wants you spotless from any pain. At first it was cute, but it got out of hand when he was so pushy about it that you can barely do any patrol killing demons intruding human spaces

WARNING!!! Spicy after this thread [MDNI🔞]

-Listen...actually hear me out, okay? This man does not feel pain. He has taken hits from humans by their punches, kicks-everything (yeah no shit, Sherlock). JUST LISTEN-pain is nothing to him. Fucking slap him in the face when you ride him, pull his hair back when you're breaking his back, spank him and he will give you a fucking devious smile telling you that was nothing just to piss you off

-Seeing you pissed off gets him so turned on, because he turns into a brat and challenge you that you can't do shit to him...cut to him tied up and having ass red and hot from the spanking, gagged that his drool soaks on the rag, his legs malfunctioning from climaxing so much. So, when he is purposely trying to piss you off...just beware of it

-Now he wouldn't make you jealous as he does have his way of trolling such flirty encounters aka Nevan for example, however he is the one who would be jealous. Plus, it is much more worse when he finds out his brother takes a liking of you (that's for another day though~). So, what he would do is have this demon death grip on you and would nuzzle against your skin-wherever it is exposed to let other demons of all kinds that his scent is now latched onto you and they should back off. Your scent on him? Well...he has special souvenirs kept back in the shop safely

-He is willing to breed you or you breed him. He would be more than happy to receive both. Will fucking be on cloud nine that after breeding you or being bred by you that you hover his face for him to clean or you get down to business to clean him up. His arms will be locked on those legs, so don't worry about suffocating him he can obviously handle it. He will grind his ass back into your face to push your tongue in deeper in his hole

-Sucking you off or eating you out is his favorite thing. He wants to gag and choke on your cock that it becomes so sloppy that you just grab his fucking head and face fuck him until you cum your hot nut inside his throat or pull out to cum on his face and the leftovers on his tongue dripping out. Grip on his hair and roll your hips as he is eating your pussy having his long tongue licking the folds, slipping the tongue inside, his nose swiping on your clit like a credit card (SORRY I CAN'T-), and when you squirt your juices that he moves away a little with his tongue out to have it splash on his face and have some land inside his mouth

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗��̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

#devil may cry #dmc #dante sparda #devil may cry 3 #dmc dante #dmc3 #devil may cry dante #dante devil may cry #mdni #no minors allowed #no minors please #yandere #yandere male #yandere dante sparda #yandere dante #yandere dmc #yandere devil may cry #dante x reader #dante sparda x reader #dante x y/n #dante x you

[yyxandere]

☆ - ACE ATTORNEY

Miles Edgeworth vs Franziska Von Karma.

Phoenix, Miles, Franziska, Godot and Mia for a darling who left them and came back after years.

Vampire Miles Edgeworth drinking his darling's blood because he can't contain his urges.

Klavier Gavin and Miles Edgeworth finding out that their darling got dumped by their date.

Zacharias Barnham General Yandere Headcanons.

Shi-long-lang and Nahyuta Sahdmadhi seeing their darling with another persons clothes.

Ryunosuke Naruhodo vs Kazuma Asougi.

Satoru Hosonaga General Yandere Headcanons.

Barok Van Zieks Fic.

☆ - YAKUZA

Kiryu Kazuma, Majima Goro, Taiga Saejima, Daigo Dojima, Ryuji Goda, Mine Yoshitaka, Yagami Takayuki and Kaito Masaharu's darling escapes but when found again they found them with a baby.

Kiryu Kazuma, Daigo Dojima, Ryuji Goda, Yagami Takayuki and Kaito Masaharu's darling made bento boxes for them.

Daigo Dojima vs Ryuji Goda.

Daigo Dojima and Ryuji Goda who's in an arranged marriage with a Yakuza.

Joon Gi-Han General Yandere Headcanons.

Yeonsu Kim General Yandere Headcanons.

Ichiban Kasuga, Yeonsu Kim and Zhao Tianyou with a darling who's very motherly.

Taiga Saejima Fic.

Zhao Tianyou Yandere Tarot Cards.

Self-Aware drabble.

Male-Wife Kiryu Kazuma, Goro Majima, Saejima Taiga, and Daigo Dojima.

☆ - DEVIL MAY CRY

Dante, Vergil and Nero infatuated by a nun darling.

#୨⎯ “OFFICIALS” ⎯୧ #✧- ‘ACE ATTORNEY’ ☆ #✧- ‘YAKUZA’ ☆ #✧- ‘DEVIL MAY CRY’ ☆ #yandere ace attorney x reader #yandere ace attorney #yandere yakuza #yandere yakuza game #yandere dmc #yandere devil may cry