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daemominus · 2 years

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DmC: control

#[ .ɪ'ʟʟ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ]#// In this house we not only appreciate but nurture feral Vergil.

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daemominus · 2 years

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OOZE

HELLO IT'S ME BEING AS MUCH A CRYPTID AS VERGIL.

#devilrogue #[ .ᴏᴏᴄ: ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ]#// I feel like someone who's stepped out of a time machine.#// I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU WERE STILL ACTIVE I'M SORRY KAFJSDG

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daemominus · 2 years

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i'm in fact THE problem but at least i'm sexy

#[ .ʀᴇ: ᴠᴇʀɢɪʟ ]#// Every Vergil out there gotta line the fuck up.

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daemominus · 3 years

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Vergil’s really out here being the cryptid he is

Status: Perceived, but hidden

#tbd.#[ .ᴏᴏᴄ ]#// me disappearing into the night

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daemominus · 3 years

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@vaenaku sent: The blood on his coat gave the blonde enough cause to worry, let alone the scrapes and bruises upon his face. He'd been through more than any one man can handle, and it killed her to see him this way. Slowly, she reached for him, energy coursing through her fingertips with only the intent to heal. [ that scene at the end before dante and vergil fight, not even bickering yet. just. hear me out. ]

The air reeked of devastation, but intermingled with that was victory. The cost was massive, of course, and entirely regrettable. It should never have come to this. The preservation of human life was Vergil’s goal and had been from the very beginning, but things simply couldn’t have turned out differently and a part of him wished he’d have expected it. Hadn’t he, though? From an angry bull of a despot, what else was there to expect? The city suffered irreparable damage and loss of life, and in the middle of it all stood two brothers, the catalysts for change.

Their actions led to this moment. Their interference saved as much as it had harmed—but they, Vergil, wouldn’t see it that way. Risks were unavoidable, the price of freedom had to be paid. There was no other way. No other way. So long as he was in the company of his comrades, he was emboldened. They’d had as much a hand in all this as their leader, and the blood of lives sacrificed would stain their hands, too. But it was all for the greater good; no revolution can succeed without sacrifice. Vergil had understood that better than anyone, and he knew it from the moment his mind was opened to his future. He might have died in the fight against his corrupt uncle, but Dante had been there to have his back. Neither of them were likely to, even allowed to, fall victim to the wrath of the ireful king.

Mundus had dealt his hand, however, and Vergil took the brunt of it. But the blood of the divine lessened the effects, and he found he’d had to dig out of some rubble once his head stopped spinning. It rather surprised him to spy a head of blonde very near. Bianca had come to find him, to help, and...he didn’t know why she would bother, but here she’d come all the same. How far did she have to walk to get to him? How had she known where?

Aches aside, just about every injury healed the while he’d stepped out of the debris. His hide might have bore the scratches and scuffs of his trial, and his coat the stains of blood that was both his and another’s, but Vergil was no worse for wear and he was relieved to find that Yamato had not gone misplaced. He had the gall to dust himself, as if appearances mattered even now. But upon Bianca joining his side, he nodded in greeting and said rather plainly that it was good to see her. She wasn’t like Kat, she could hold her own; she had steel enough in her bones and a devil within to rouse her spirit. She had done her part to help and seemed infallible; and her loyalty was unquestioned. To see that Bianca had come to Vergil’s aid over Dante’s was in itself heartening, and it was just. He’d been the one to extend a hand to her, recruit her, and gave her opportunities to grow and improve, and to serve the cause to which she belonged. But all of that was par for the course, nothing so spectacular. Vergil took note of the concern on her brow just as he noted Dante drawing near.

Lo, his brother in the distance walked toward them. Vergil would meet him.

A particular sting in the nephilim’s right shoulder reminded him of its existence. A greater injury than the rest, but of course his body continued to repair itself. His countenance had not given any weakness away as there had been none to give. A hand reflexively rubbed the ball of his shoulder, though for no practical reason. With limitless strength did he face the girl at his side, noting her hand—and spurred her at once to follow. “Dante’s up ahead. Come on.” The smolder of triumph could not have gone ignored. Vergil did not need to play usher: Bianca would follow him, devotedly. He knew of the power she wielded and denied her to give it as he’d denied himself to take from it. There was no need; he pulled his body away without a word before she could even lay a finger on him. The boy was anxious to catch up to his twin and that’s what he’d set off to do. In yards they would meet, exchange their thoughts, and together bask in a moment of glory, sweetest success. After all they’d endured, they could afford a short spell of celebration. It would all work out now. Nothing could stop them. Limbo City would see its restoration, the human populace its salvation, and no one had been more eager than Vergil to watch it all flower.

#vaenaku #[ .ɪᴄ: ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ]#[ .ᴠ: ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ]#// Oh. Oh my. 👀 👀 👀#// Bianca shouldn't have to put up with so much of his crap though tbh.

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daemominus · 3 years

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#[ .ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ]#// hello yes of course I have to reblog this again.#// His theme is so good and angsty... unu

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daemominus · 3 years

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#[ .ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ]#// Hey.........#// This fits my boy too. 👀

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daemominus · 3 years

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New theme for Vergil, finally. I wanted it to match V’s tbh. My tags don’t display that well on it but I don’t give enough of a damn. Though I still might lose it and change them all because I’m tired of having to copy+paste them lmao

#tbd.#[ .ᴏᴏᴄ ]#// I wish SessionBox worked on Tumblr again 'cause I wanna be on both blogs at once. :\

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daemominus · 3 years

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While I’m here… @daemominus

Bianca and Vergil did not start out even remotely close to being romantically inclined to one another. They met under rather unfortunate circumstances, given that Bianca was more or less a frightened rabbit in the grand scheme of things, still desperate to escape her own reality - Vergil was simply in the right place at the right time, stumbling upon her and, perhaps, taking pity on her. She’d been mangled by the demons thriving in Limbo City and she would find herself tangled in Limbo itself every now and again, at the mercy of the demons she was too frightened to really protect herself from. She was afraid of herself, too, unable to come to grips with the fact that she was also a demon, the product of a human and a demon lord who once allied himself with Mundus. She never knew her father, after all, but her mother was obsessed with fantastical stories of another place, another time, a strange man with unfathomable power, and Bianca never thought there’d been a shred of truth in them. They were just stories, dreams, told by a woman with a failing mind. She refused to believe them, rejecting her mother’s nonsense if only by virtue of having suffered her abuse.

But her stories were proven true on the eve of her 17th birthday when a demon destroyed their home and…well, ate her mother - and tried to do the same with her. Massive, gnarled fangs would bury into her already tiny and injured fram, but ice would burst from her form and freeze the demon. Any movement on her part would only shatter it like glass, and she would only too narrowly escape with her life. This incident turned her life upside down, and for the next three years, she ran and hid, ran and hid, ran and hid, even when she was given a moment of respite. Her body is permanently damaged by many years of abuse and demon attacks, but, one day, she met a man who offered her a hand. He hadn’t really asked for anything in return and though she was terribly frightened, there was something about him that caught her completely off-guard, something that allowed her to trust he would not harm her - and she took his hand. He knew what she was, even accepted it despite his own reservations, and offered to help her learn how to properly control her abilities and hone her strengths. An alliance was borne. She had little to give him in return, but she certainly tried her best, and before too long, through battle and bloodshed, sparring and mentorship, something more began to grow between them, though she was more receptive, more accepting of it.

It took some time, but she would aid him in any way necessary, be it his cause or in repairing his home. She cared for him deeply, platonically and romantically, and was grateful for everything he’d done for her. How could she not? She never pushed him, but it was no secret she harbored a strange affinity for him, and the longer she stuck by his side, loyal and unwavering, things between them began to change. He was not accepting of this at first, outright rejecting the thought alone, but time would prove adversarial - and so would his own heart. But when he did, finally, things were…earnest. Neither of them had any proper experience in such matters, and both had fumbled through it privately, with Bianca only quietly pining, bringing him his meals in his study, tidying up the mansion, averting her gaze when they’d pass one another in the halls. Eventually, their relationship would progress, and the rest is history, really.

Throughout their relationship, however, Bianca had found herself feeling inadequate. His power dwarfed her own and, really, she’d put him on quite the pedestal, comparing herself to a man she believed to be far stronger, far more capable, than herself, without giving herself even the smallest amount of credit. It tore her up, wore away her spirit, and Vergil was not ignorant of her limitations either - but rarely had he ever mentioned them, if ever. She was enough as she was - for him. But she was not satisfied with any imbalance. She wanted to be equal to him, someone worthy of him in the first place, and while she realizes she always was now, she had made choices she could never hope to have taken back or reversed. In one way or another, she very literally trained until it killed her and this was deliberate, purposeful, as she would be promptly driven into the depths of Hell and forced to claw her way out through various, distressing, violent trials. For every trial came a strengthening of her spirit, even when the odds were severely stacked against her. She would face her enemies and her allies, hellish copies of those she both hated and loved, from her mother to her father, from Fumis to Vergil himself, and the lines between what was true or false had blurred considerably. She didn’t know what was real, but, still, she kept fighting, even when her body was beginning to fail.

She emerged victorious, of course, months later.

Vergil took care of her physical body for as long as she was away, heartbroken and beginning to lose hope. He had come to love her a great deal, in his own ways, and the choice she’d made was not one he accepted with grace. When she regained consciousness some weeks later, he would find relief, but she would not be quite herself. Bianca was not frightened, like before, but seemingly frustrated and angry, somewhat distrusting of Vergil. Hell had taken a considerable toll on her and it’d carried over into waking life, but as time went on, she would eventually return to her usual self - bright and gentle, but altogether unwilling to tolerate any sleight against her. Demons were done away with the moment they’d stepped out of line and it was with a heavy hand that she’d approached her responsibilities, however few they were. However, now she believed herself to be equal to her mate, powerful in her own right and capable of much more. While it may seem a bit of a flip, a complete 180, the truth of the matter is that she’d grown. She would not accept ill treatment from anyone and she could properly defend herself to whatever ends necessary, with and without her beloved. There was much more she could now withstand and, in some ways, she’d filled her percieved role in the hierarchy.

Eventually, however, she would come to regret such a choice to dive into Hell. It was never necessary and the horrible stress and despair she’d put Vergil through inspired only guilt and shame. No matter her intentions, she’d harmed her mate, the only man she’d ever loved, ever trusted, all in some pitiful attempt at pushing herself to become that which she already was. She was always worthy of him, of what love he had to give, of his compassion. While their power was different and individual, it never had any bearing on the truth, and she’d realized it only too late. She didn’t need to be powerful, she didn’t need to be strong or anymore capable than she already was. He didn’t need her to be, either, but the deed was done and all she could do was apologize. She loved him, perhaps too much, and sacrificed much of herself to prove herself to him, to everyone, and it’d never been necessary - not once. For a long time, she did her damnedest to remedy the situation, to care for him as she always had and repair the damage that’d been done.

They exist, now, in altogether perfect harmony.

They’ve been through so much together, there’s really no wonder they’ve stuck together this long. Shared trauma, a reawakening of rejected emotions, devotion borne under unlikely circumstances– They grew together, bonded, and found in one another what they simply hadn’t in others. Comfort, trust, love, and a myriad of other things. Loyalty. A truly devoted pair in even the worst of situations. When Vergil would reject her, she would remain, even as merely a friend, and when she thrust herself into Hell so that she might continue, he was at her side every step of the way. He protected her when she could not protect herself, and she cared for him when he could not care for himself. She reminds him of the stubble on his chin, the showers he needs to take, the meals he needs to eat, as he reminds her every day that she is loved and dear. Everything is mutual, from desire to respect and everything in between, and it seems that their affections for one another only strengthens with time. Vergil, even now, is intensely protective of her, maybe even especially so, and even if it is sometimes uncalled for, she is only too willing to indulge him. She adores him in his entirety, doting on him incessantly.

There was a time he helped her in the gardens of Paradise and, to this day, she still dilligently tends to the camellias they planted together. Of course, Vergil being in the garden was really an excuse to spend time with him, get him out of the dark of his study, but it was what got her to really fall for him in the first place and this is the hill I will die on.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#[ .ǫᴜᴇᴜᴇ ]#[ .ʀᴇ: sᴀғᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ ]#// THIS IS WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH.#// Bianca is so *clenches fist*#// Vergil loves this girl and he'll fucking die for her.#// She gave him the things he needed at the right time and he /realizes/ that.#// And he appreciates her and he /does/ show it.#// He yields only to her too which is Neat.#// fuck I can't. I love them. bye.......

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daemominus · 3 years

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Vergil: I killed her. Hollow Vergil: And you’re stronger now. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Vergil: Power. Hollow Vergil: Absolute power, Vergil. You are a son of Sparda. Become the son of Sparda.

#[ .ǫᴜᴇᴜᴇ ]#[ .ɪ'ʟʟ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ]#[ .ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ]#// I have so much to say about this.#// But I'll settle with throwing my hands up because omfg.#// This fucking boy.

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daemominus · 3 years

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