Devil May Cry Oneshots & Requests

I Have to Write My Name on Things (Vergil, PG-13)

Summary: A while ago, arsuf (on tumblr) shared a post with the Old Man's Diary entry and it made me feel things.
Pairing: Vergil x Reader
Rating: PG-13, but only because I can't kick "fuck" out of my vocabulary.

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You knew that this was a really bad idea. Like, really bad. Phenomenally bad. You'd made fun of people for doing exactly what you were planning on doing in the past. Had warned your friends that they'd be making a big mistake - huge - by doing this exact thing. But was that going to stop you?

Absolutely not.

It all stemmed from an insecurity of Vergil's. In a moment of weakness (the only, if you asked him) after some vigorous lovemaking, Vergil had traced idle shapes into your skin. "Possessive, much?" you'd asked, a teasing grin on your lips when it dawned on you that those lazy shapes were in fact the elegant lines of his script. Curled into his side as you were, luxuriating in the steady beat of his heart as it rocked you to sleep, you hadn't expected a response, much less the vulnerability in words confided so softly in your ear:

"As a child I had to write my name on things to make them truly mine."

And fuck you sideways if that hadn't pulled on your heartstrings. So the next day you had put in an order online, simultaneously flustered and completely confident in your purchase when you brought Vergil your bounty. He hadn't known what to make of the small motor as he lifted it out of the box until he came across the needles and the ink.

He knew it was just as bad of an idea as you did. At first, he refused. He loved you just the way you were - smooth skin free of blemishes with the exception of a freckle or scar here and there. You were not a book, he did not need to write his name on you to keep his brother at bay. You were already his.

But you were nothing if not persistent. You wanted him to write his name on you.

It started with suggestions over the course of several weeks of where you could place it, but Vergil always had a reason to shut your suggestions down. You wrist? Too visible. Your ass? Too undignified. Your bicep? Too visible, again.

"What about my hip?" you asked, pulling at a belt loop to draw your jeans off of the smooth canvas that surrounded your hip bone. "It's easy to cover up. No one would see it unless I wanted them to."

Vergil's head tilted the slightest bit in consideration, his eyes hungrily glued to your hip. He still was not completely comfortable with the idea, but he had to admit that it held a certain appeal. Would he brush his thumb over the ink once it had healed into your soft skin, feeling the ink press up from the rest of your flesh as he held you closer in a moment of passion? Yes, the idea was very appealing.

"You getting a tattoo?" Dante asked as he took up his seat by the phone.

"Thinking about it," you casually answered, releasing the belt loop so that your skin was hidden once more.

"Hip, huh?" He whistled, cheekily. "Sexy but discreet. It suits you."

It was the wink Dante sent your way that pushed Vergil over the edge. He stopped beside you on his way to your shared room, bristling when he told you to pick a different spot. Though his voice was low, his message was clear: pick a spot that Dante wouldn't see; one that had nothing to do with him.

Days later, you made your decision: "My ribs." You lifted your left arm and pushed your clothes out of the way to showcase the spot you'd picked. Vergil had been about to protest, but you cut him off. "I know that rib tattoos are painful, but I have a high pain tolerance, -" you wouldn't have lasted long in this line of work if you didn't, "- no one will see it if I don't want them to, and it'll always be close to my heart."

When he saw that you really, truly meant it - you wanted him to write his name on you and you wanted it to be on your ribs, he acquiesced.

Not one to do anything half-assed, Vergil bought the necessary materials that the kit you'd bought lacked. At night, after the shop had fallen silent, he would assemble the machine and practice scratching lines into the skins of the oranges and bananas that Dante kept in the kitchen at Nero's insistence. It took weeks for him to get a feel for the machinery, to do the necessary research, and to watch the handful of instructional videos you sent his way.

He wanted to make sure that he did right by you.

On the day, Vergil rolled up his shirtsleeves and donned black, latex gloves. Alcohol wipes cleansed the area before he went over it with a fresh, disposable razor to make sure that the skin was prepped and smooth. He marked the general area with a highlighter while your arm was relaxed at your side so he could be sure that the tattoo would rest where you wanted it to. The better part of an hour was spent drawing his name on your left rib cage in sharpie, wiping it off, and starting over again until you were both satisfied with the placement and size, and he with the penmanship.

His outline was surprisingly straight, but each line was picked up in multiple, weird places and a couple of them were blown out. Despite only using black ink, his shading between the thicker downstrokes of each letter were uneven throughout. Neither of you would know the real damage until it was fully healed in two-ish weeks.

You didn't need to look at it in the mirror to know that you loved it, but you did anyway: marveling at the way the black ink stood out from the rest of your skin, a shiver creeping up your spine at the sight of his script etched into your skin so close to your heart.

"I guess this means I'm yours now, huh?" Your words were meant to tease, but they came out too breathily and your smile was more wondrous than vexing.

Vergil brushed his fingers over the sensitive skin below the script, his gaze reverent; lips curved in a gentle fascination.

I have a twin brother, sir. We fight over things often, so I have to write my name on things to make them truly mine.

"I suppose it does."

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A sweet oneshot that I wrote in... oh geeze, 30ish minutes? It wouldn't leave me alone until I write it down.

Anyway! Back to working on your requests!

Thank you for your continued patience.

- Rowdy