SHEEEEEEEESH
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Summary
Little Nero gets a present from his uncle on a cold winter day.
Bookmarked by SHEEEEEEEESH
10 Jul 2026
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Summary
Most of the side effects of battle were pleasant. Increased sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. Extra speed, precision and strength. He was never more powerful than post-fight, when his demonic heritage could roam free and ward off anything else that might dare challenge him.
He often forgets about the… other side effects.
It isn’t until he’s at home in the shower, rubbing angrily at a hard on that will not go away that he remembers: Libido. His libido is greatly increased.
Bookmarked by SHEEEEEEEESH
09 Jul 2026
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Summary
Vergil shows up to your apartment with a… complication. You think you can help.
Bookmarked by SHEEEEEEEESH
09 Jul 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Scrumptious. Vergil whining? Sign me tf up
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Summary
In which Vergil remembers how Nero came into his life and he remembers how long it took to get to this point with his son.
Bookmarked by SHEEEEEEEESH
02 Jul 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“Need water.” Nero waved the plastic cup around.
‘I had a nightmare.’
Nero didn’t say those last words aloud but they hung there nonetheless, patiently waiting to be acknowledged, comforted. The nozzle went on, off, then he tilted back half the glass.
“Water?” Vergil repeated.
‘How bad?’
“Yeah, water. What, is a guy not allowed to get a glass of water in his own house anymore?”
‘Really bad.’
Wordlessly, Vergil rose from his seat and trailed into the kitchen. He expected the way Nero eyed him warily, as he usually did, and cautiously pulled his hand through his son’s locks until they were smoothed back on his head. He pressed his lips to Nero’s forehead. To no one else did he share this softness and love, to no else did he bear his heart. Only Nero was privy to his soothing side for things such as nightmares and the desperate longing of serenity given by a parent.
“You know I’d never let anything bad happen to you.” Words that Vergil no longer had to search for or think about entered the kitchen, dousing them both in cool relief, sounding out of place to those who neither knew nor spoke their nonverbal language. 'You're under my protection.’
Nero’s face reddened all the way to the tips of his ears and he pawed at his nose.
Like a rose required nourishment and time to reveal it's true beauty, it had years for them to learn how to communicate so delicately and it required coming to terms with the stipulation that understanding needed work. They actually had to talk to each other, not scream or throw tantrums or hiss passive-aggressively underneath their breaths or lock themselves away and wait for the other to understand.
In one such instance, Nero had been antagonized over Vergil keeping the Yamato away from him and the obstinate refusal to explain that the weapon was dangerous and fragile and held sentimentality that Vergil thought unexplainable to a child ended with them both falling to pieces while Vergil worked desperately in a horror ridden state to stop the bleeding. Yamato, in the proverbial sense, had been more than ecstatic to engage with her master's successor. The first fire of a scolding licked Vergil's tongue only to be drowned underneath Nero bursting into tears. Suddenly, Vergil felt more like his father than he ever had in his life. He was Sparda and Nero was him when he was a child, fresh off the training grounds after his first experience with his beloved katana.
That night had changed the way Vergil connected with Nero and vice versa. Slowly but surely, they worked their way upwards until they could hear when things weren't voiced and know that when one thing was said, there was always something unstated tacked onto it.
“I’m okay, old man.”
'I know. Thank you.’
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Summary
Urizen’s threading process has seen peace for weeks and he stonily basks in the quiet he’s been given. Then it cracks underneath a screech and he can’t be bothered to figure out what’s making it until-
What. Is that?
Bookmarked by SHEEEEEEEESH
02 Jul 2026