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ladynamida · 1 year

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Too Sweet

Nero and Vergil bond over stroopwafels. That's it, that's the plot.

Slice of life, Dadgil, humour to glue it together, I just want them to end up happy, okay?

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"So what's new?"

Nero leaned back. This was nice. A Sunday morning off the job in Redgrave, a pre-booked spot on the ferry meaning he and Nico were stuck hanging around with nothing to do. No shopping that Kyrie or the kids needed picking up and bringing back from the mainland - he triple checked that - and a decent paycheck sat in his inside coat pocket. Time for a little R & R.

Vergil picked up his small packet of biscuits. "Nothing significant. A few demon-hunting assignments but nothing of lasting importance. A long evening yesterday spent in a bar with Dante-"

"Hence the caffeine and caramel treats this morning. Gotcha."

Vergil leaned toward Nero. "Unlike that fool, I know how to conduct myself in public. Especially when the beer is terrible."

Nero smirked, shaking his head and his two sugar packets, dumping them in his coffee. Vergil had leaned back, attention back on his allocated sugar and caffeine, hoping it would get rid of the last niggly bit of headache (or at least the taste of said beer still hanging around after brushing his teeth three times). What was that stuff made of anyway?

"Whatever you say, just surprised to see you on the hard stuff this morning instead of your tea."

With that, Nero shoved the caramel waffle in his mouth and took a huge bite, leaving a thin crescent moon shape behind. Vergil's turn to smirk... for someone who had just been teasing him the child was quite endearing. Vergil filed away Nero's preference for caramel for later use as he carefully balanced a waffle on top of his steaming coffee.

Nero chomped his way through the rest of the biscuit and took a huge gulp of still-too-hot coffee. Damn but if the demonic heritage didn't come in handy sometimes, not least with his impatience with hot drinks (and his love of all things spicy). He placed his mug down on the table and noticed Vergil's precariously hanging waffle but decided not to mention it. After all, he already got away with a bit of cheek, he didn't want to go too far. Vergil could get kind of defensive and sulk if any of the gang drew attention to his many little quirks or habits. But they made his father less of an idea and more of a real person - so Nero liked them (mostly).

"... out in the suburbs?"

Nero blinked. "Uhhh?"

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "It looks like I'm not the only one requiring caffeine this morning. I was enquiring how your assignment proceeded. It was located in the suburbs, yes?"

"Ah. The job. Right. Yeah, it was fine." Smooth, Nero cursed.

Vergil nodded and turned his attention downward again. Excellent way to end the conversation you fool, he cursed himself. He knew exactly where the job was located and what it entailed, he and Dante having turned it down a few days ago with the express promise from Morrison that it would be offered to Nero and brought back to them if necessary. Which brought a hearty and knowing chuckle from Morrison and (unfortunately) a hug-tackle from his brother. At least the fool waited until the broker had gone - perhaps he can exhibit survival skills on occasion. What has it Dante had said while Vergil had him in a head-lock? Sharing is caring, Mr. Poetry.

Vergil picked up the waffle from the top of his mug and pulled the biscuit into two halves, strands of warm gooey caramel trailing between them longer than Vergil thought possible. He took a bite and closed his eyes for a moment as the soft waffle gave way to sweet caramel. Such a small but joyful moment. He opened his eyes and as they focused he became aware of Nero's mug hovering halfway between the table and his mouth. A mouth hanging open as Nero stared.

Their eyes met. Vergil panicked. What does he say? Does he say anything? What did he do? He swallowed, the sugar hitting and burning his throat with the sweetness. How embarrassing to be caught so off guard. He will not blush, he is a mighty son of Sparda, he will not blush. Nero still hadn't moved. Should he trick himself out of the room and run away screaming?

He swallowed.

"... not all of my ideas are terrible, Nero."

A heartbeat passed and Nero still didn't move. Then he let out a snort and a laugh, the coffee returned to the table. Thank Sparda for self-deprecating humour, Vergil thought. He took a sip of his own beverage. A small victory.

"It definitely makes your top ten, old man."

"Most regrettably, I can't take the credit. I merely observed others eating them this way during my travels and approved."

"The approval of a son of Sparda? They must have been so honoured."

There it was again, such cheek. Vergil smiled.

Nico slammed her drink onto the table and whirled into her seat with all the delicacy of a hurricane. Nero and Vergil stared at the huge multi-coloured monstrosity of a frappé. Vergil was the first the speak. "What on earth is that?"

Nico took a huge draw from the straw, making a noise Vergil swore he hadn't heard since the depths of hell. He didn't understand the babble of words that assaulted his still-sensitive ears, recognising only a few such as "Instagram recipe", "custom" and "improved".

"It took that long to make something that gross," Nero deadpanned.

"Stop bitchin', you know those drinks don't actually exist so that's why it took this long. Can't rush art."

Nero opened his mouth to speak again, so Nico beat him to it. "Having a nice catch up with your daddy?" she asked, all faux innocence as she swiped Vergil's second stroopwafel. Vergil smiled (internally) and let it happen. This was nice.

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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! We all know DMC likes its parallels, and drawing imaginary parallels between Vergil and Nero is one of my favourite hobbies.

P.S. Try the stroopwafels, they're delicious!

#devil may cry fanfic #devil may cry nero #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry nico #dadgil #i just want them to be happy #the only canon part of this is dadgil's internal panic (probably)#dedicating this to the #dmc book club #dmc bookclub #for your encouragement and support #enjoy the floof #my writing #devil may cry

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adevilsfolly · 10 months

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"Hie thee home" Chapter II

“It feels as if my insides are melting; what manner of madness is this?” “It is the burden of love; the retribution of sinful pleasures of the flesh.” “O’ Father, is there a way I may revoke such emotions? Can I forswear such a painful union?” “Such an accursed bond may never be broken. Your fates are now interwoven; for better or for worse.”

~Thursday the 1st, June, 2023 4:42 AM~ ====================================================

“Come on, V,” Uriel sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I won't tell anyone, just let me do it."

The lithe man’s brow furrowed harshly, “I am alright.”

“No-” Uriel’s arms crossed as he glared at V, “No, you’re not. You’re just getting slower--- just let me carry you.”

“I am fine.”

The ginger-haired man gave a large over-exaggerated groan before moving forwards again. With each step, V began to lag further and further behind. Another half hour or so passed and Uriel turned to talk to V but found he wasn’t beside him. A heavy sigh left his nose as he turned around to see V lagging behind by nearly 20 feet (6 meters).

“Alright, Duke of Limbs,” Uriel growled loudly and tromped over to the poet, “let’s fuckin’ go!” He seized V and yanked him up--supporting the skinny man's weight completely with his right arm.

“What do you think you’re doing-!” V struggled a bit but was unable to break free from the devil.

Uriel growled, “Quit struggling or you’ll be over my shoulder next, princess.” The devil continued forwards, his pace unchanging from earlier, “Now, where are we supposed to be going?”

V grumbled a bit in anger before letting out a faint sigh, “Continue till you re-enter Red Grave then listen for music,” he begrudgingly rested the side of his head against Uriel’s shoulder, “I’m sure with your ears you’ll hear it just fine.”

“Alright, then what?”

Uriel awaited a response but got nothing. When he looked down at the frail man, he saw that V was already fast asleep. He smiled as he whispered, an underlying feeling of melancholy tugged at his words as he somberly, “Stubborn as always,” a heavy blanket of wistful nostalgia coated his mind as he continued onwards, his grip tightening on the small man, and a small faint purring coming from deep within the devil’s chest.

It didn’t take long for Uriel to reach the city ruins. As he looked around, he shook his head at the absolutely obliterated cityscape, "This place has definitely seen better days."

He playfully kicked a rock and felt an instant wave of regret as he watched the baseball-sized pebble hit a nearby car and set off its alarm, “For fucks sake…”

It didn’t take long for Uriel to start hearing movement around him. Admittedly, if he hadn’t been encumbered with a certain someone, he would’ve made the first move instead of waiting. However, he didn’t have much choice and, quite frankly, didn’t want to wake up V; enjoying the peaceful silence between them. The sounds came from several directions, a method demons use when hunting to distract their prey before a second one springs up from behind. Something Uriel was all too familiar with doing himself.

Casually, the ginger side-stepped and allowed a lunging Chaos demon to go past him. With as little as a forward motion of his wrist, Uriel snagged the demon’s tail and slammed it down into the ground, killing it. He then pivoted around on his heels and turned to face the small group of lesser demons.

With a sigh and annoyed roll of his eyes, the devil counted the demons; two more Chaos and two Baphomets.

“Since I’m in a good mood,” he raised a brow as he drew his knife, extending both sides, “I’ll give you a chance to leave,” but he got no response, “Of course, why would you listen to me.”

The two Chaos demons darted at Uriel. Quickly, he ducked underneath the first and, like a hot sharp knife through butter, he sliced the underbelly of the creature wide open.

Uriel stood up and shook off the gore, “In all my years, I’ve never lost to you lowly vermin,” he carefully removed a chunk of flesh from V’s hair, “and I don’t plan on it now.”

A wide wicked smile spread across his face. There was a short pause as the demons stared at Uriel, seemingly confused at the devil’s boastful nature. A shard of ice flew past the left side of Uriel’s face, slicing it.

He blinked slowly, dumbfounded at him not dodging the attack, and sighed with a small shake of his head, “That’s what I get for boasting.”

Uriel sprinted toward the two icy demons. All the while, he did his best to not wake the fragile man in his grasp. His speed was unexpected and caught the two demons off guard allowing him to slice the first Baphomet’s throat, quickly incinerating the icy flesh. Blood sprayed across Uriel’s, who gladly lapped up it off his face using his elongated tongue. Then turned his focus to V and began to wipe the blood from his face.

The second Baphomet attempted to use Uriel’s focus on V as an opening to shoot up another set of ice crystals from the ground. However, the ginger quickly jumped off to the side and the ice missed him; only to impale the final Chaos demon that had been attempting to sneak up behind Uriel. He ran at the demon as he moved his blade to his mouth, holding it by the handle using his teeth. Using his free hand, the sickly pale devil grabbed the final Baphomet’s neck, his nails digging deep into the soft flesh of the ice demon, and then slammed it into the concrete several times in pure frustration. Only stopping once it was nothing but a clump of sticky red mush.

The ginger’s breath was ragged as he closed his eyes, doing his best to keep himself in check; not wanting to cause any more damage to the city than what has already occurred. With a small huff, Uriel grabbed the knife out of his mouth and licked the blood from his hand. A small hum came from him as he ran the asymmetrical grind of each blade against his tongue, cleaning them, and then closed the knife.

Leisurely he tucked it into the edge of his unscathed sweatpants, “Pretty anti-climatic…” He sighed and continued onwards.

V was still asleep in the devil’s arms and, despite him being covered in demon's blood, V was no worse for wear. Uriel very gently used his sleeve to clean off V’s face further and found himself wanting to coddle the delicate man. Mindlessly, he placed a soft kiss on V’s forehead and began to purr softly at the oddly comforting feeling of having someone so close; especially someone of V's (or, rather, Vergil’s) caliber.

A small dreary smile tugged at Uriel’s features as he traversed the city, following the faint sound of music as instructed. It had only been a few years since he’d been in Red Grave but it feels like a lifetime ago. He remembers how lively the city was, the children running along the sidewalk, the street-side sellers trying to sell whatever they could, and the smell of the nearby bars’ grills that were always packed every Friday and Saturday. Red Grave felt like home to him for those few years and it had been the only place on Earth that he’d ever wanted to stay in.

Now? It reminded him of all those centuries ago when the armies of the Underworld were on the verge of conquering the human race; a war that Uriel refused to take part in.

“Damn,” he thought to himself, stopping in front of a decimated corner store, “They used to have really good chocolates. I hope that young woman…” he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought, trying to remember her name, “Sasha? Sarah? Sammy..? Whatever-- I hope she made it out alright.”

“Were you close?” A soft sultry voice rang through his ear.

“Huh?” Uriel stared at V with parted lips, “I- uh, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It is alright,” V sleepily rubbed his head against Uriel, “So, who was she?”

“Ah,” Uriel continued moving forwards, “No one important.”

“Are you sure? It won’t upset me if you’d found companion--”

“What?! No! We weren’t-- Gross,” Uriel laughed softly, “She and I were friends; although Dante was adamant that she,” he moved his jaw in thought, “wanted me.”

V’s eyes focused on the necklace around Uriel’s neck, “I see… May I ask why you said gross?”

“Verg--” Uriel clicked his tongue, “Sorry, V, I don’t find humans attractive.” The devil stopped and looked up the side of a tall building, “In fact,” instantly, the pair were atop the structure via teleportation, “I find humans repulsive.”

Slowly, the ginger began to survey the city and hoped to find the source of the noise or, at least, gain some sort of idea of where to go.

The lithe man laughed with a shake of his head, “You know that Vergil is half-human and that I am completely human, right?”

Sad glazed-over mauve eyes met with V’s, “I know,” his voice was deflated once again.

The poet pursed his lips, taking a short pause; unsure as to what was exactly going through the devil’s mind, “Then do you hate--”

“You are different; your entire bloodline is different to me,” Uriel’s head snapped up, figuring out where the sound was coming from, “I had respect for Sparda, even if we didn’t see eye-to-eye.”

V raised a brow and tighten his grasp on the devil, knowing that he was in for a bumpy ride, “You knew him?”

The ghostly pale devil walked over to the side opposite where he was headed and laughed softly at V’s words. His grip tightened on his leather-clad passenger and he sprinted off to the other ledge, jumping off it. Unintentionally, he landed on top of a chained Behemoth’s back and killed it on impact.

As the devil ran through the city streets, avoiding all manner of demons, he answered V’s question, “Yes, I knew Sparda,” a small pained bittersweet smile pulled at his lips, “He was quite the spunky devil, even as a whelp.”

A curious tilt adorned V’s brow as he spoke in disbelief, “As a whelp..? You knew him when he was younger?”

Uriel laughed with a wide smile, “Of course I did. You didn’t know that?”

The raven-haired man’s face was contorted into a confused glare.

“V,” Uriel’s eyes met with his, “I am much older than your father; by at least a few thousand years.”

“What?”

The ginger’s pace slowed to a jog, nearing the destination, “Really?” he laughed, “You didn’t figure that out?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Uriel’s smile dropped upon noticing V’s frown, “Oh come on, V, don’t be so angry. If you consider how I was made, I have no age,” he shrugged, “I'm not even alive if we want to be all technical.”

“I suppose you are right,” V sighed and gave Uriel a soft smile, “Guess that makes me a reverse cougar of sorts?”

“I could be a gigolo-- or just a creeper; which do you prefer?”

They shared a laugh as Uriel’s speed dropped to a walk, meandering up to the loud white van with the words “Devil May Cry” plastered on the side with an LED sign.

“This what we’re lookin’ for?”

V turned his head outwards, “Yes,” he sat upwards, Uriel slowly dipping his legs down and offering support to the unsteady man, “Thank you and, please, do not mention anything about Vergil. I--”

“You don’t have to explain,” Uriel stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning back casually, “I get it.”

“Thank you, Uriel.” V turned away from the ginger, “Give me a moment, I will retrieve the others.”

With that, V shuffled off and into the van’s door, leaving Uriel alone.

In his boredom, the pale devil took out his knife and flicked the blades out, fiddling with it mindlessly. An odd heavy feeling pricked at his mind as he thought about what lies ahead or, rather, what reaction he will have to Vergil’s demon half. Would Uriel even be able to fight him? Or would it be too much for him to stomach? Would Vergil’s demon side, Urizen, recognize him? What will this “Urizen” even look like?

A wave of sullen mourning encompassed his mind. His brow furrowed harshly. Uriel had never properly acknowledged what happened that fated morning over two decades ago. The loss of a friend he’d long since yearned to have. How the eldest son of Sparda simply just up and left, never to return; abandoning a confused and distraught Uriel completely alone. As his mind divulged further into the sickening spiral, he’d begun to move the blade faster around in his fingers.

Perhaps Vergil had taken his fill of Uriel and squeezed enough knowledge from the accident devil that the eldest twin no longer needed him. Maybe Vergil had been playing him the whole time, that their entire companionship and bond was nothing more than just a tool. But then why wouldn’t Vergil take Uriel with him to use as a weapon as so many other of Uriel’s “masters” have? Why leave Uriel at the house, alone and without warning? Why sever the bond of the knife before leaving if he had planned on attacking Mundus? Vergil obviously didn’t care enough about Uriel that it was out of kindness. What was Vergil trying to gain out of toying with this lonely devil?

The devil’s brow twitched as he noticed how his hand felt weirdly hot and a dripping sensation made him stop his thoughts for a moment. When he looked down, he saw a large cut that ran up from his wrist all the way through his palm, and through his left hand’s ring finger--ending at the tip. He side-eyed his knife that was in the other hand and noticed that he had indeed cut himself on the lead-colored metal. A small huff of irritation came from him as he watched his skin pull itself back together and the irritation dissipate.

Then a loud click followed by a squeak caught his attention and he turned to look at the now-open van door. Quickly, he closed the blade and placed it back in its resting spot on his left side. Out of the doorway strode (a freshly cleaned off) V followed by two others; a young woman with brunette hair and an unarmed young man with platinum-silver hair.

The lithe man leaned hard on his cane and gestured at Uriel with his free hand, “You'll have to forgive the extended departure; he was rather hard to find.”

“Well now,” Uriel smirked and folded his arms, staring at the young man, “What do we have here?”

Nero’s stare thinned as he removed his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“V,” Uriel’s eyes were still trained on Nero as the ginger pulled the blade from his waistline, “Hold this for a minute.” He tossed his knife to V.

V and Nico’s eyes widened in confusion as they stared at the two. Uriel and Nero were damn near butting foreheads--or rather, butting forehead to chest, due to Uriel’s short height--and were locked in an intense menacing stare.

Uriel’s lip twitched as he let out a low sustained growl and Nero did the same, as if to size one another up. In an instant, Nero backhanded Uriel, using his human arm, and sent the devil flying off into the distance. A sudden panic came over V and he went to move to mediate the hostile situation but was stopped by Shadow; who had not only summoned themselves but was wrapped around V’s legs, keeping the poet still. Nico noticed the cat’s sudden appearance and shrugged, lighting a cigarette; figuring that the cat had the right idea.

A quick flash of auburn flew across the trio’s point of view and shoulder drove into Nero, sending the young man flying just as far--if not further--than he’d just done to said auburn flash. With a wide devilish grin, Uriel quickly hopped around, using the various debris as his landing points, and found the crater that Nero was laying face up in.

He squatted down, resting his forearms on his knees, “Huh, must’ve been the long hair that gave you power; since you’re already--!”

Nero pushed up and tackled Uriel at the hips, wrestling with him for a moment before pinning the ginger, “Guess you’re gettin’ dumber in your old age.”

Uriel smiled with a small ‘hmph’ and forced Nero over, now pinning the young man, “Sorry but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to make me submit.”

“Oh yeah?”

The two began to struggle again, however, Nero was unable to reverse the pin. Uriel had a smug look on his face despite the small worry in his mind that this was the first time he’d actually had to try and keep Nero down. After a moment, the two shared a soft laugh and let go of each other. Both of them sat down and were breathing heavily, a smile tugging at their lips.

“So,” Nero looked over at Uriel, “Since when are you that fast, huh?”

“Eh?” Uriel tilted his head.

“And since when do you have eyes like that? Or ears--- Why do you look so--”

“Different?”

Nero nodded.

“Well,” Uriel’s eyes broke from his, “How shall I put it…” he pursed his lips in thought, “The person you knew before… Remind me; Xane, was the alias--correct?”

He nodded once more.

“Think of Xane as something akin to Trish’s “Gloria”; a ruse used to keep a lower profile. Mine was especially created because of Dante.”

Nero frowned, “So then who are you?”

Uriel smiled as he stood up and offered a hand to help Nero up, “Name’s Uriel.”

With a grunt, Nero grabbed the devil’s hand and returned to his feet, “You aren’t human, are you?”

“Damn, what gave it away?” There was a playful sarcasm in his voice.

The silver-haired hunter punched Uriel’s shoulder, “What are you then? You don’t look like Dante or Trish…”

“Actually,” the devil placed a hand on Nero’s shoulder, “I am exactly like Trish,” he moved his head to the side in thought, “Well, I mean, kind of..?”

“What’s that supposed---”

“Hey!” A loud southern voice cut Nero off. The two of them turned to see Nico and V walking toward them, “What the hell was that about, huh?”

Uriel slowly panned to Nero, “Finally find a girlfriend?”

Nero punched Uriel’s shoulder again, however, he hit much harder and even moved Uriel from the force, “Fuck off.” Nero smiled, “She’s Kyrie’s.”

“Really? Huh, I didn’t think she swung that way,” Uriel shrugged, “Good for her-- So what that’s your sister-in-law then, right?”

Nero gave a breathy laugh, “If they got married, yeah.”

Uriel smiled, however, it seemed disingenuous. Before Nero could ask what was wrong, Nico spoke again.

“You two tryin’ to get the attention of e’ery demon in town?”

Nero laughed, “Sorry, just got carried away in the moment.”

“Carried away in killin’ V’s lil’ pet project?”

Uriel raised a brow, “V’s “pet project”?”

Nero and Nico ignored Uriel’s comment as Nero answered her, “Hey, be nice. He’s more than V’s pet project, he’s also Dante’s pet.”

“Now how the hell’s that make any sense if Dante don’t even know ‘em?”

“Who said Dante doesn’t know him?”

V finally spoke up, “Dante knows Uriel?”

Nero nodded, surprised at V’s unawareness, “Yeah, Xa-- Uriel, worked as a hunter for a while.”

Uriel folded his arms, “A while? Alright, hold on- First off, I am no one's pet or project; if you call me that one more time, I ain’t fuckin’ helping. Second off, I have been working at the Devil May Cry about as long as you’ve been alive, altar boy.”

V shook his head, “You have?”

Uriel smiled softly, “Yeah, I needed a place to go after I lost my house back in ‘99 and I’ve always had a knack for demon hunting.”

Nico used her thumb and forefinger to squeeze out the cherry of her smoke, stepping on it to put it out, “So you’re a demon hunter then?”

Uriel nodded, “Yes I am, Ms..?”

She stuck out a hand, “Goldstein but you can call me Nico.”

“Goldstein..?”

“Yessir.”

Uriel smiled, “That means you’re a gunsmith, right?”

She nodded, confused at the ginger’s sudden excitement.

“So then you do gun repairs-?”

“Yes..?”

Uriel pursed his lips, “Do you have experience with Devil Arms? Like Artemis or Pandora?”

Nico raised a brow, her gaze flicking between people, “Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush; what’s the question, shorty?”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “I have a gun that is a Devil Arm which needs repairs, physical ones; something that I do not have the knowledge to do. Once this whole ordeal is over, I would love to either learn how to fix it or pay you to repair it.”

“Sure thing; I can repair it now if you want,” she pulled out her pack of smokes, placing an unlit one in her mouth, “Not like I’m gonna join ya on the field…” She fumbled around for her lighter before flicking the silver zippo open.

“You aren’t?” Uriel raised a brow, watching her struggle to get a spark.

“Nope, I ain’t a hunter,” her brow furrowed in irritation at her unworking lighter.

She watched as the sickly-looking man snap his fingers and a small flame adorning the tip of his thumb, then he offered to light her smoke by pointing his thumb at her, “I would but I don’t have the energy to retrieve it at the moment, I am still rather exhausted.”

“Ah sure thing,” she nodded and took him up on the offer, lighting her smoke, “Thanks,” she looked at him, unsure how to feel about working with this devil.

An awkward silence fell over the group and, after a few moments, V cleared his throat, “We should get moving while the day is young,” he began to meander back to the van.

Nero nodded and laughed, slapping Uriel’s shoulder, “Race ya’!”

“Oh, you’re so on!”

As the two raced off, Nico caught up to V, “Hey, uh can I ask ya somethin’?”

V nodded, “Sure.”

“If he’s really one of them demons,” she removed the smoke from her mouth and shook her head, “Why’d he help hunt them?”

With a small smirk, V let out a half-laugh huff, “I have never managed to get a clear answer as to why; however…”

After a small pause, Nico raised a brow, “However, what?” She put the cigarette back in her mouth.

The lithe man smiled, although an oddly pained feeling filled his voice, “Uriel used to read with me and when I’d ask his motives he’d always point to the same start of a poem; ‘Can I see anothers woe,/And not be in sorrow too?/Can I see anothers grief,/And not seek for kind relief. Can I see a falling tear./And not feel my sorrows share,/Can a father see his child,/Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd.’.”

“What’s that suppose’ to mean? He’s got a soft spot for humans?”

“Perhaps. He has never stated much beyond having a strong distaste for humanity as a whole.”

She pursed her lips, “Great that’s reassurin’.”

“He means well,” he softly sighed, “His experiences with people have been far from amicable.”

“ ‘least Nero seems to like ‘em.”

“It would seem so, yes.”

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Other parts on Tumblr: CHAPTER I

If you'd like to read more about my DMC headcanons Click Here.

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#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry fan character #devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry oc #devil may cry nero #devil may cry v #devil may cry nico #devil may cry original character #oc #original chracter #fan character #fan oc #devil oc

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