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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

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Me again 😖😖😖 I hope you like angst cuz I got a doozy. Sparda twins when the sibling dies to protect the other. This was inspired by the Marineford arc in One Piece.

Howdy Howdy,

I just wrote some very sweet and soft work about the Spardas watching One Piece, and then I remembered this was requested. Duality and coincidence, man.

Needless to say, my friends found me trying to bury myself in another shallow grave after writing this.

-Rodeo

Dante Dies For Vergil

When Vergil sees a flash of red knock him over to the ground in the midst of battle, he never expects the sight before him.

Dante stands before his older brother, staggering and shaking. A giant gaping wound bleeds crimson onto the earth, and it refuses to close. Vergil’s widened eyes slowly look at the line of red that follows his brother’s lips.

Vergil doesn’t know what to do, seeing Dante like this. So solemn, serious, and-

He swallows thickly.

A lightning bolt shocks his veins in a frigidity he hasn’t felt in a long time. His hand reaches for his brother as he is reminded of the past he fought to never repeat.

His brother is so solemn, serious, and-

Dante’s dying.

Vergil quickly gets up and grabs his brother before he falls. It’s a clumsy excuse of an embrace, and anyone who was watching would know it was nothing but.

“You-you-”

Dante chuckles weakly, his body pliant and weak.

“Why? Why would you do this?” Vergil stammers. His own legs are weakly supporting the two of them. He can’t fight this. He can’t do anything.

Dante squeezes his arms around Vergil, and his blue counterpart can feel the strength and soul leave him.

“Why would you-after everything I’ve done-” Vergil is stammering, his body screams at him to have more grace than this. He is weak. Why is he weak?!

He can’t stop rambling, he cannot focus, he is not composed, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t-

He can’t be alone again.

Dante claps his hand against Vergil’s shoulder.

“I’ve never been one for regret-”

“And I’m not going to start now.” He coughs dark red.

“But I can’t help but feel sorry.”

Vergil feels himself fall apart as Dante’s arms seem to fight to stay wrapped around him.

It’s tragic. Dante spent his whole life trying to piece things together just for both the twins to shatter at this moment.

“Take care of yourself alright? Tell everyone, tell everyone I��ll miss them.”

“Vergil?”

“Dante?” Vergil croaks dumbly.

Clear tears wet his coat.

Dante’s attempt to keep his words steady fails him in his last seconds.

“Thank you for loving me.” Vergil is still and Dante’s body finally slumps, a long sigh as his soul is freed from this mortal burden.

Dante’s amulet has gone cold against Vergil’s neck.

Vergil falls to his knees, his rapidly and painfully thudding heart rattling in his ribs. Dante’s body softly lands and turns over on the earth.

Dante’s pale face, eyes closed and gently smiling, greets him. He looks at his own shaking hands

Red. Why are his hands red? No. No. This is Dante’s blood. This is his brother’s blood. It’s on his hands. Why is it on his hands?

Dante got hurt. Dante got hurt. Dante got hurt. Dante-

Dante’s dead. Dante’s dead.

Vergil’s breaths are quick and he finds he still can’t breathe like he’s drowning from the air.

He lets out a guttural scream as he beats the earth with ochre hands. Vergil pulls at his hair and streaks blood on his face.

On his hands and knees, he has surrendered to his humanity at last. And it is a terrible sight.

He screams until he can’t anymore. And he sobs brokenly, a house fire of a man.

Vergil Dies For Dante

Blue and red. Blue and red. Blue and red. Dante always wanted those colors to be of him and his brother. Together, complementary.

But today. Oh, today.

Today Vergil stands before him, blue coat soaked in crimson blood that is all his own. Even when he is fatally wounded, Vergil stands with attempted poise.

When The Yamato falls onto the earth with a clang, Vergil begins to come forward with a dying man’s tread.

Dante is quick to grab Vergil, and he is panicking.

“Vergil!” He tries to staunch the bleeding, the hole in his chest right over his heart the size of his hand. His brother stops him, eyes blank and mouth leaking blood.

“It’s no use,” Vergil says, coughing red flecks.

“No, I can do something. Vergil, I- We can find Nico, she-she can build you a new heart, come on, we-we have to get help-”

“No!” Vergil barks out, legs losing balance and leaning upon his brother. The fall breaks Dante out of his in-shock rambling. His brother’s embrace chills the blood in his veins.

Dante failed. Dante let his brother, his reason for fighting, get hurt.

Vergil looks away from him, eyes weary as he fights to stay. It is a losing battle, the amount of time left slipping away like sand through his bloodied fingers.

“Vergil-” Dante hugs his brother and he sobs. Vergil’s skin is unnaturally cold.

Since their rekindling, he has familiarized himself to be used to the new contact. Vergil’s arms shake as he slowly brings them to clutch his brother’s leather coat. He sighs.

He has sacrificed his body and mind all his life. He sacrificed himself for revenge, for power, for strength, and for his own selfish intentions.

This was his last time sacrificing himself. And he felt no shame.

“Do not cry for me, brother,” Vergil says, his voice quiet. Dante holds him as if he fears he will squeeze Vergil’s life out of him if he pressed any harder.

“Now, my time is running out. I can only say this once. So heed my words.” Vergil rattles. Dante nods and his broad shoulders shake in fear.

“I have been a terrible brother, a terrible father, and a terrible man for a very long time. I blinded myself in isolation. I had abandoned you, my dear little brother. Forgive me.” Vergil says, swallowing thickly.

Dante’s eyes are wide open as he shudders in breaths. This is the first time and last time his brother will ever ask for his forgiveness, his death bed his brother’s embrace.

“Forgive me, as I had lived for so long thinking I had nobody. And I may hope Nero forgives me for this.” Vergil stirs, his arms moving around Dante’s neck, one of his worn hands upon the back of Dante’s head.

“I’ll take care of him.”

“I know you will.”

His life is leaving him, his ice-blue eyes rain-clouded as he thinks of his existence. A stray tear leaves his face.

“Even though I've been good for nothing my whole life, you have not relented in my redemption. Stubborn devil.” He wheezes. Dante laughs and it turns into a sob. He knows. He knows. He knows.

“You saved me, but most importantly, you loved me.”

It’s Vergil’s turn to cry.

He forces his weeping voice to work before he expires. He lets out a choked sob.

“Thank you for loving me,” Vergil says right into Dante’s ear, his hand slowly losing grip of his brother’s hair.

A smile slowly creeps onto his face as the twinkling sounds of a woman’s voice ring in his ears.

Vergil, where are you, Vergil?…

Vergil’s unseeing eyes shine with unshed tears as he mouths something to no one in the living world.

I’m right here, mama.

The storm has approached and dissipated, and Vergil surrenders to his end.

When Vergil’s nose brushes against Dante’s jugular, Dante already knows. And the truth is fatal.

And yet, he pushes Vergil’s body away from his in hopes to see his brother take another breath.

He doesn’t.

His dead brother’s face is calm, eyes clouded over with a rare smile on his face. Bits of his hair has fallen to his face. Dante dumbly moves his hand over, shifting to brush his hair aside.

Smears of Vergil’s crimson soak into his hair. Dante realizes his hands are covered in red.

Dante shudders and he immediately goes back to holding his brother with a grip tighter than he was holding him prior.

Red and blue. Red and blue. Red and blue.

He looks down. All of Vergil’s coat is ochre. He doesn’t want to look at it anymore.

He is mute, a long pathetic whine leaving his mouth as he falls to his knees, cradling himself and his brother.

History repeats itself in a new way.

Dante kneels with his head down, just like he did when he was a child during the first time he thought he lost Vergil. Instead, now his brother is in his arms, this time-

This time he knows for sure.

It is red, and all there ever will be is red.

Half of him has disappeared.

Dante stays there for a very long time, a shell of who he used to be.

#dante imagine #vergil imagines #dante sparda #vergil sparda #angst #rodeo is best at angst #rodeo cried several times because of this #request #devil may cry angst #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry

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queenmuzz · 3 years

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A ‘Peaceful’ Family Breakfast

Set in an AU, where both Eva and Sparda live, and Dante and Vergil live (relatively) normal lives....well, they DID... A prequel to THIS piece

Tagging @toschiworlds for coming up with this AU in the first place

It was such an unusual feeling, Eva thought to herself as she set out the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table. How long had it been since they had a proper meal together, all four of them, in peace? Certainly before her sons had turned eighteen...before Dante had gone to work on his new demon hunting business, before Vergil had taken a year to travel before he started university. And even before then, when did a meal not end up with the two brothers bickering, only to be broken up by a piercing glare from their parents?

But now, this beautiful spring morning, the windows flung open to let in the fresh air, for the first time this year, she felt that today’s Pancake Sunday would go beautifully. Dante, with the help of his father, had finally gotten on his feet financially, so he was in a good mood. And Vergil… while he looked the very picture of calm, she could tell he was barely keeping his turmoil together. Both Sparda and Dante seemed unaware of how well he hid his inner thoughts, but Eva had seen that look before, although not on her sons, and it was painful to watch.

He has had his heart broken. She knew that intuitively, and yet she didn’t press him for details. He would tell her eventually, and her alone. Sparda, despite his countless years among humans, still was clueless about subtle emotional clues.

And while Dante was a bit more clever, was too preoccupied with his new independence to pick up on his brother’s distress. God help us if he does though, she thought, that’ll be the fight that not even I could stop. It was best to let Vergil confide in her, of his own choice, in private. But not today. Today, she would enjoy the family pancake breakfast.

“Man, this smells delicious!” Dante had already seated himself down and was helping himself to the top three pancakes from the platter, still steaming.

“You’ve outdone yourself, milady,” her husband kissed her cheek in approval as he placed a few breakfast sausages on her plate, before helping himself.

“Dante!” her youngest froze, his fingers grasping the handle of the glass pitcher. “Vergil should have the first glass of juice.” Dante sulked as he sat back down, “after all, he provided the oranges for this, fresh from that island called…?”

“Fortuna” Vergil quickly answered.

“Fortuna….” Sparda murmured… “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a very long time…”

Dante’s interest was piqued, “Hmmm, what’s so special about that place?” “Ah,” his father smiled while reminiscing, “I spent many generations there, a loooong time ago, aiding them against the onslaught of demons that threatened to overwhelm them” his face darkened a bit, “Unfortunately, they started to rely on me a mite too much, to the point of reverence, so I decided to leave, before they went down a path that was too dangerous. How fares the island? I do hope that the Cathedral in the city centre still stands, it was beautiful during my stay.”

“It is still there, and yes...very beautiful, the second most beautiful creation on that island,” Vergil admitted, before realizing that he had revealed something he ought not have.

“Second eh?” Dante was quick to pick up on that, “What’s the first? A really nice looking pizza parlour?”

Vergil began to turn as red as the strawberries, and Eva knew exactly what he thought was the most beautiful. Her eldest would never reveal it, and her youngest would never stop asking, leading to yet another disrupted family meal.

Never had she been so relieved that the phone rang from the living room.

“Dante,” she asked sweetly, “would you be a dear and answer it?” That might be enough to distract the young man, and she saw Vergil let out a sigh of relief as his brother gave her a casual salute, before sauntering off. Sparda, of course, didn’t notice a thing, too focused on soaking his pancakes with syrup.

“Let’s just enjoy a pleasant morning, you boys can talk about what you’ve been up to for the past year later, shall we?” Vergil a bit too eagerly agreed.

Even though his voice was muffled from behind the wall, she could make out snippets of the conversation.

“Sparda residence, Dante here!” A bit of silence, and then she noticed Vergil stiffen. No doubt he could hear what was being spoken, with his demonic heritage, “Wait, you want to talk to him? Babe, hate to break it to yah, but I’m the better lookin’ twin by far.” Vergil’s knuckles popped and turned white, but before he could get up, Dante’s dejected voice replied “Oh okay… don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll grab him. HEY VERG! PHONE’S FOR YOU!”

Eva didn’t even mind that Vergil didn’t ask permission to leave the table, and bolted towards the phone. She couldn’t see it, but she assumed that he yanked the receiver from his brother, before glaring at him to get out, if the way Dante made a hasty retreat back into the dining room was any indication.

Dante looked at her and gave her a clueless shrug, before sitting back down and grabbing yet another couple of pancakes. Unlike Dante, Vergil kept his voice down, and she couldn’t hear anything he said.

But both Dante and Vergil did. Because despite how clueless the men could be, their exceptional hearing was unsurpassed. Both father and son dropped their forks, and stared at each other, as if they were looking at confirmation at what they had just heard.

Eva couldn’t help herself, her curiosity demanded it. “What is it?”

Dante looked like he was about to blurt it out, but Sparda cut him off. “My dear, I believe we should have some tea, would you be able to make some? I’d do it myself, but I can never get the temperature right, it always comes out tasting bitter and burnt.”

Eva knew when she was being herded out of a conversation, but Sparda did this so rarely, that she trusted his intentions. So, faking a smile, she headed back to the kitchen, and turned on the stove top kettle.

She could hear both her husband and son in a quiet argument. She didn’t know what was being spoken about, but she knew it was from something they had overheard.

“Dante...this is not for you to reveal. This is your brother’s duty.”

“But you know how he is! He’ll probably pretend it didn’t happen! Mom HAS to know!”

“And she will, but give Vergil the chance to tell her. He’s probably as shocked as we are.”

“But VERGIL of all guys? I expected him to stab himself in the chest before this ever happened…”

“Be patient...your brother is full of surprises, but he will find a way to make it work.”

Eva’s blood went cold. Had Vergil done something? Was he hurt? Did someone want to hurt him? Her motherly instincts screamed at her to check up on her eldest, to make sure that he was alright, to assure him that whatever he was keeping back, she would love him unconditionally. But then, the kettle whistled, so she distracted herself by pouring into the teapot, the fragrance wafting up providing a temporary sense of calm. Forcing a smile, she brought the teapot in, and acted as if she hadn’t heard anything. Both Sparda and Dante focused intently on their pancakes, refusing to look at each other, or at her. In the living room, she finally heard Vergil’s voice, low, yet trembling.

“I...I will think of something. I’ll be there as soon as I am able. From there, we’ll take it one step at a time.” A pause. “Take care of yourself…” and she could have sworn, spoken almost as a whisper, an “I love you.”

She was in the middle of bringing out the sugar pot from the kitchen when Vergil came back, pale and slightly wobbly, as if he had been punched in the head. The air was still, and there wasn’t even the chirping of spring birds. Both Sparda and Dante stared at Vergil expectantly.

“Well…” her husband stated, carefully adjusting his monocle, “I believe we all heard what was spoke, save for your mother. Would you like to fill her in?”

Vergil looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than this room as he stood stock still, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly.

“If you don’t tell her bro, I will…” Dante promised, and got a stabbing glare for his threat.

Eva waited patiently, not pushing her son. She knew, more than anyone, that the more you pushed Vergil, the more resistant he became. But she still stood there expecting anything and everything.

“Mother…” Vergil slowly gave in, “I’m going to be a father…”

The delicate china sugar pot shattered into countless pieces as it hit the floor, the sugar just adding to the mess. And the noise it made could barely uproar that both father and son made at the revelation.

So much for a quiet meal together...

#Devil May Cry #canon divergent au #Vergil #Dante #Sparda #Eva

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 3 years

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Hello if the request is still open. Could I get headcanons that if dante has a daughter how would she get along with dante, vergil and nero (post dmc5)? Thanks!

Hello! Just a heads up for the future! This was a very different type of request for me to write and next time I get a request like this in the future I'm not going to accept it! But I really hope you liked this one anyway!

Well, it's kind of a given that either way that she's going to be one; be a devil hybrid and going with the tread I'd say that she would hold the family trait silver hair, and two; have Sparda's blood through her veins which in turn makes her a dignified badass.

I would say that most likely that her mother would be a human making her a quarter demon just like Nero, and for the sake of this request I'm going to have her age be around Nero's.

His daughter would most likely work at the office, since you know 'family business' and all and would work on phone duty while her father's out on jobs and take in small jobs on her own just to try and keep the electric and water from getting shit off (dad just has a talent for not paying bills after all)

I'd say despite being the overgrown man child Dante is, he'd be a good dad. He's fun and super easy to hang around, but he can get awkward as hell when certain topics come up; ex dating/love advice, and if his s/o, Lady, or Trish is around he'll most likely push it off on them to deal with.

He does go on quite a few jobs that last him over a few days quite often, so I can see him taking her to Fredi's out to eat and have some quality father-daughter time. He also likes to take her on jobs (that he knows for a fact aren't world saving) with him and hunting together is another bonding exercise.

All of the awkward bad dad jokes. All of them.

He likes telling her stories about her grandmother and all of her teachings she taught him and Vergil, because he knows she would've been proud of the fine woman his daughters become like he knows he is.

Dante has told his daughter quite a few stories about Vergil over the years, nothing too specific in his death or ever mentioning his corruption at Mallet Island, but enough for her to know that her uncle was a stubborn asshole who lost himself in lust for power. So when it came time to meet him after he and her father returned from hell was...weird. She knew that her father and him were twins but seeing it in person was off putting, even if a normal person couldn't tell by just glancing at them, she can tell that even if one has clearly aged more than the other that they're still if fact identical deep down.

Vergil deep down feels really guilty after every he'd down up to the ending of 5 and he's made an attempt (keyword: attempt) to get a connection going with his family again, he made amends with his brother (though still sharing the rivalry) and is trying to get into his son's life, so of course he's going to try his best to at least get to know his niece but given this is Vergil and communication isn't exactly his strongest suit so it's going to take quite some time.

Vergil himself originally thought as V that Nero was Dante's son, so seeing his daughter for the first time isn't that shocking to him. What is shocking to him is how...nice she treats him. With her being Dante's spawn he would've expected her to be more - how would he put it? More like Dante's spawn? (Vergil please stop calling children spawn) But no, she's more calm and collective and even brings up a conversation about Blake's work with him from time to time and it completely baffles him to no end but deep down he really appreciates it.

Like most things, Vergil finds hunting to be where he feels his best so it's no surprise that in his 'connection attempts' that he goes on jobs with his niece. Going on jobs with Vergil is very different then going on jobs with Dante, she quickly comes to realize. On jobs with her father, they'd tend to stick together as a team and he'd show off all of his stylish skills just to show her that: "Her old man still got it." Vergil on the other hand tends to like going on jobs alone, and even the first few times when he has 'agreed' to let his niece tag along at first he always keeps his distance to do his own thing but he doesn't travel far enough so that he can still see what she's doing, she has the blood of Sparda after all so she should be able to impress him. But after they've bonding for a bit Vergil doesn't travel off as far, far enough so that both of them have their own proper battle space but close to where if need be he can quickly trick over if the chance if she is about to have a fatal call with a demon and he can come to her rescue. But from what he's learned about his niece is that she's learned what Dante has taught her by heart and is very skillful at what she does so instead they can have friendly banter with one another during these missions. Vergil is very proud of his niece.

Even though the thought confused the ever loving hell out of him that the old man somehow, Nero and Dante's daughter were friends before they found out they were cousins, they knew they were somehow related with Sanctus' confirmation to Nero during 4 but they never knew how far it went. At that time no one but Dante knew, and Lady would joke about Nero just being a kid that Dante forgot about or something but of course with Dante being Dante he chilled it out saying if he had another kid he would know about it and saying nothing about it further.

Nero would hang around the shop for a good while after the events of 4, still feeling lost and confused about how his whole life was a lie with the Order and wanting to get stronger with his inner demon to protect the most important person left in his life at that point; Kyrie. Speaking of which, Kyrie would also tag along to the shop feeling confused and lost as the brainwashing of the Order slowly would fade away as she grieved for her brother's life. I'd say this is where Dante's daughter would pitch in and try to help out the both of them the best that she can whether it be by training for hours with Nero or being a big emotional support and a shoulder to cry on first Kyrie, which all earns Nero's respect.

Because of that respect, during 5 she actually spent the whole game in Fortuna with Kyrie and the kids. Deep down she was so upset and angry at herself that her father's somewhere lost in that fucking tree Redgrave after seeing his defeat first hand when she went with Nero (who at the time she was visiting after Kyrie called her about Nero's lost arm) and that 'mysterious bastard' V. For the whole month she spent beating herself up over it, she knew her father wasn't dead; he defeated three demon overlords in his lifetime! Three! But seeing him actually fall to an enemy...terrified her. She'd wished to go back to Redgrave the agreed time but Nero asked her to watch Kyrie and the kids in his place and she just...couldn't refuse.

Nero's easy to make flustered and embarrassed and it's hilarious if you just make simple jokes about how dorky he gets around Kyrie like how he does that scratch/rubbing at his nose thing with a big dumbass grin on his face. Both Dante's daughter and Nico both enjoy flustering the shit out of him, and because of that Nico and her are good friends (and once she leaves Nico makes it very clear to Nero that his cousin is hot, which again gets Nero's goat)

Nero and Vergil of course still have a very rocky relationship even after 5 (which again understandable when your parent yanks off your arm and all) so since him and his cousin have a good relationship, he tends to go to her for advice, after all she's had her entire life with her dad and he's only had a dad for the last few months tops.

Either way this family might be hella dysfunctional, but I'd say she'd wouldn't rather have it any other way.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #mine #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nero sparda #devil may cry headcanons

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prolestariwrites · 3 years

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The Wish [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 8, in which Dante has to face the most intimidating creature of all... his wife.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 8: Dante Sparda, Legendary Demon Hunter

Dante pulls up outside of Vergil’s house and turns off the car. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, “Thanks again for what you did back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

His brother’s voice shakes a bit, but it seems like he’s holding onto control, even if it’s barely. Which is something at least. “It’s funny,” Dante jokes, “you’ve used Summoned Swords on me half a dozen times at least, and this might be the first time you used it to save me.”

“Summoned Swords,” Vergil murmurs. “Is that what that’s called?”

“It’s what you called it in my world. Although it’s a bit different there.”

Vergil nods, and silence settles again. Dante scratches his chin as he searches for what to say. “You know, Nero can do it too. Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw it.”

“Nero.” Vergil turns his face to the window. “I should get inside.”

“Yeah. But, Verge…” Dante sighs as Vergil looks back at him. It is obvious his brother needs him now: he needs comfort, reassurance, something to help him process everything and come to terms with the truth. He needs wisdom. He needs tact and compassion.

Damn it all. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Dante says. “Then we’ll look for dad.”

“Yeah.”

Vergil reaches for the car door and Dante blurts out, “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll find him. And if any demons show up, you can use Yamato. You’re a better fighter than I am, so you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not a swordsman, Dante,” he grumbles. “I haven’t fought with anyone since we were children.”

“But you can. And Mary can too. She’s a way more successful demon hunter than I am.” Vergil frowns at him, but Dante continues, encouraged, “She kicked both our asses. She’s always got some demon on the run, knows how to use dozens of weapons and make her own even. And Nero? He’s got all kinds of crazy power. He was demon hunting before he even knew how.”

“Nero’s just a child.”

“Yeah, here he is, but in my time, he’s older, and I’ve seen him in action. Took down a whole evil god robot once.” Vergil huffs and shakes his head as Dante leans his elbow on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry. You didn’t think you could fight but then you skewered that guy. So trust that they can handle themselves. And your V, Vitale? He’s not… I don’t know him, he’s not from where I’m from, but if he’s anything like you, then he’s got this too.”

Vergil glances at him briefly before nodding. Then he opens the car door and climbs out, and Dante watches as he hurries up the driveway to his front door, still clutching the sword.

Dante heaves a long sigh before starting the car again. On the drive to home, he wonders what he’s going to do about Lir. He’s still not entirely sure she’s not a demon too, so if he comes clean with her, there’s no telling she won’t attack him just like the bar waitress.

His questions are answered when he walks in the front door. “Dante? Dante!” Lir practically runs to greet him from the kitchen. “There you are! What happened? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer she pulls him into a hug, forcing him to bend over so she can press her cheek to his. “Dante,” she murmurs, and he feels a pang of guilt as he returns the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay.” He eases up and pushes her hair back from her face. “Why were you worried?”

“Your mom called all frantic. She said your father ran off and broke a window and in his study… there was…” Lir’s voice trails away as she examines his front, and Dante glances down. There are splatters of blood on his jacket and shirt, and he steps back as she gapes. “She said there was blood on the floor. What happened?”

Her eyes are wide with alarm as they rise to meet his. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

Dante eases past her and heads to the kitchen. Lir follows, hanging back in the doorway as he moves to the sink. He uses the minute to think as he runs his hands under the hot water, taking a few pumps of dish soap to clean the blood away. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a dish towel, drying them as he turns to face her.

He leans against the kitchen counter and swallows thickly. “Mom was upset, huh?”

“Very.” Lir takes a step closer before hesitating. “What happened?”

“We… fought. It’s fine,” he says hurriedly, holding up a palm as she opens her mouth. “My dad’s been keeping secrets and I confronted him. It didn’t go well.”

“Secrets?” she asks. “What kind of secrets?”

Dante folds his arms with a sigh. “He’s not who he says he is. He’s… something else.”

“Something else? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not human.”

He waits for a long moment to let the news absorb. Lir stares at him with wide eyes, and he notices how her fingers tremble as she reaches out to brace against one of the chairs at the little breakfast table. “He’s not human,” she murmurs.

Dante nods and she tilts her head towards him. “And the blood?”

He glances down at his soiled shirt. “That was my mistake. Dad was lying and I wanted him to tell Vergil the truth. So I stabbed him with a sword.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah. He was fine though. Got right up.” Dante chuckles. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Serves the old man right. He kept refusing to come clean, and I—”

“Dante.” His mouth snaps shut as she sinks into the chair, looking pale. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t all his blood.” Lir looks up sharply as he spreads his arms. “Vergil and I got a drink afterwards and got attacked by a couple of demons in the bar. Had to kill a waitress and all I had was a chair leg, if you can believe it. Luckily Vergil came through. Wasn’t that bad, he killed the bartender.”

“You killed a waitress?”

Dante winces. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you say it like that. But they were demons, I swear.” He starts to walk towards her, and Lir scrambles up, pressing back against the wall. The fear on her face makes him freeze, and he watches as her eyes start to tear up. “Hey, relax. Really. It’s gonna be fine.”

He takes another step and Lir launches herself across the kitchen, diving for the knife block. She pulls a long bread knife from its slot and spins, holding it out like a magic wand as if to ward him off. “Don’t come any closer!” she shrieks.

“Okay. Obviously I’m telling this story wrong.” Dante holds up his palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. See?”

“You’re crazy!” she cries. “Demons? Killing?” He rolls his eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “Stay away from me!”

She steps to the side, keeping pressed against the counter, as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket. Dante frowns as she swipes it on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police.”

Her voice has an edge now, and Dante can see she’s a dangerous mixture of frightened and furious. “I’ll just go,” he suggests.

Lir shoots him a look to kill as she raises the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes? Yes, I need the police, my husband—”

As she speaks, something catches Dante’s attention, like a pinprick on his neck. His head turns just as the ceiling explodes in a shower of drywall, the window shattering as something breaks through. Lir screams and he sees her drop the phone in the corner of his eye, and Dante steps between her and the two demons that now stand towering in their kitchen.

He looks up at the hole in the ceiling and grits his teeth when he sees the sky. “We have a fucking door you know,” he growls.

“Dante!”

Lir’s voice is wild with panic, and he holds out a hand. He curses silently, knowing her being here is going to just make this harder. It’s bad enough to fight a demon when a human is around, but now his instinct to protect her is screaming loud enough in his head to drown out any reason. He’s got to get her safe, and then he can deal with them.

“Lir, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“Get to the front door and run. Now!”

He doesn’t know if she obeys because at that moment they advance. Once again he tries to summon Rebellion, and again he realizes he’s left it in the damn car. Two sets of teeth and four sets of claws come for him with a screech, and then Dante is dodging, throwing one punch after another as he tries to make a plan. One of the demons picks up the toaster and throws it at him, making him duck. It sails over his head and implants into the wall behind him. “What the hell!”

One of the demons grabs his leg, pulling him to the ground. Dante lurches to the counter as he falls and grabs a drawer, yanking it free with one pull. He prays it has something he can use, but inside are dish towels. “Damn it,” he mutters, but he swings the drawer, which breaks with a spray of splinters as it hits one demon full on the face. It falls back and lets his leg go, and Dante scrambles to his feet, pulling open another cabinet.

This one has plates at least, so he grabs the stack and throws them one by one at the other demon. They explode in its face, the porcelain shattering loudly as it falls in pieces to the floor, but they disorient it enough that Dante can deliver a kick that sends it sailing across the kitchen. Before the two demons can recover, he lunges at the knife block, and with a steak knife in each hand, he quickly dispatches them both, slitting their heads open, both collapsing in a pool of dark blood.

Dante catches his breath and drops the two knives in the sink. When he turns, he finds Lir on the ground, her knees drawn up as she gapes at him.

“Lir…” he murmurs with a wince. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he takes in the pieces of drywall stuck in her hair, the way her shoulders shake, the bright flush on her face. But she’s alive, that’s all that matters. The rest of this shit he can explain, and fix, and make up to her.

Just then, there is the sound of someone talking, and they both look down at the phone on the ground. It looks like it takes a half minute for her to remember what it is, but then she jerks it up to her ear. “Hello? Hello, yes I’m here. No, no, everything’s fine.” Her eyes are wide as they take in the mess now that it’s settled, but her voice is steady. “I thought my husband was hurt, but he’s fine. A cabinet fell over in the kitchen, that was all the commotion. I’m so sorry.” She listens for a moment and then says, “Really, it’s not necessary. We’re fine.”

Dante takes a deep breath as she finishes the call, looking out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. He scans the darkness for any more demons, but his senses don’t pick anything else up. Lir says goodbye, and he glances over as she presses a finger to the screen before slowly setting the phone on the ground.

Their gazes connect, and he feels a twist in his chest as he sees tears swimming in her eyes. But then Lir scrambles towards him, and he catches her in a tight hug, her face pressed to his neck. Dante gives a small smile as he holds her closely, rubbing a soothing hand on her back as her breath shakes against his skin.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“So that’s everything.” Dante looks over at the passenger side, where Lir stares straight ahead. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Her eyes fall to where her hands sit in her lap. “So you’re not Dante? My husband?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “I mean, I’m Dante, but I don’t know if I’m him or if he’s me or if…” He rubs his face and glances at the clock on the dashboard which shows it’s nearly midnight. The gas station they had pulled into is deserted, and the light from the shelters over the pumps gives enough light that he can see the pained expression on her face. “Sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing. And uh, I guess I should apologize… for the other night—”

“No, it’s…” She glances over, almost shyly, and Dante’s heart skips a beat. “You’re still him, just not him him. I think.”

“Right.” He chuckles humorlessly with a half smile. “You hungry?”

Lir shakes her head. “Not really. I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get some rest then.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading down the nearly empty street. After a few turns he finds a little motel, and Lir luckily doesn’t argue when he parks. She stops to grab the bag she had packed in haste before they fled the house as he heads into the office, emerging a minute later with a room key. “Funny, the guy didn’t blink twice even though I’m a mess,” he jokes.

Dante grabs Rebellion from the trunk, remembering this time, before he leads her to room six. But he hesitates when he slides the key into the lock. “I guess I should have gotten two rooms?” he murmurs.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” She presses her hand on his back lightly. “It’s fine.”

He nods as they enter, flicking on the lights as Lir follows inside. There is a Queen-sized bed in the middle, a television, a chair and table, and Lir shrugs off her jacket before opening the bag. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, holding them out to him. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“Yeah.” Lir doesn’t look up at him as he takes the clothes, and not knowing what else to say, he heads into the bathroom.

His reflection is a mess, his hair sticky strands covered in blood and dirt. His face and neck aren’t much better, and as he strips off his clothes, he thinks about what he must have looked like arriving home like that. “This is why I never got married,” he mutters to himself as he turns on the faucet. “Too much trouble.”

His dialogue continues as he starts the shower and unwraps the little bar of free soap, listing the reasons why a relationship and marriage don’t mix with demon hunting: too much blood. Too much laundry. Too many questions. Weapons. Blood. Death.

He leans his forearm on the tile, watching as red swirls around the drain until the water goes clear. Stupid fucking wish, he thinks. This life he had always wanted? It’s not possible, and he needs to accept that and move on. He had no idea what he was asking for, Dante realizes.

It makes sense, really, he tells himself as he towels off. After all, Lady didn’t have anybody. Neither did Trish. Whoever Nero’s mother was, it couldn’t have lasted long before Vergil was gone, if his brother even knew he had a kid in the first place. Too much liability when you have someone in your life. He remembers Lir’s scream as the demons crashed into their home, the way the fear hit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. But Nero has managed it, hasn’t he? He has Kyrie, and goes home to her every night, blood and guts and all. Dante frowns, wondering if it’s not meant to last. It would kill the kid to lose her.

Sparda, Vergil, him, now Nero… their whole family, one after another, losing someone close before disappearing too. Like some big cosmic joke.

Lir is curled up on the pillows, the lights off and the television on. She pulls back the covers when he climbs up to join her, and Dante smiles a bit when she repositions herself with her head on his chest and her arms tightly wrapped around him. “This okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Dante snorts. “Nah. It’s a crazy story, I know.”

“I pulled a knife on you.”

“Not the first time someone’s done that.”

Lir stiffens a bit before lifting her head. She looks at him sadly, but he grins. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am,” she says.

Dante glances away with a shrug. “I don’t know you in my time. We never met.”

“Oh.” She lays her head back down against his shoulder, and Dante settles his hand on her hip. “I’m glad we got to meet here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dante listens as Lir’s breathing goes steady, her body sinking against him as she falls asleep. He stays awake, watching the light behind the curtain grow darker before slowly turning gray. By the time the sun comes up, his decision is made.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #fanfiction #the wish #myfic #yes it's been months #pandemic related hiatus is not fun #but hopefully over #and i will finish this fic!

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much-obliged-timothy · 4 years

Text

Whumptober #26

Devil May Cry - #26 - Blindness

I didn’t have enough time to proofread tonight, so I apologize for any errors!

“Do these things ever stop coming?” Nero said as he sliced through yet another smaller demon.

“Stop complaining,” Vergil said.

“It was a question, not a complaint,” Nero pointed out. “Besides, we should be trying to get to the source of where these things are coming from rather than wasting time cutting them up.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Dante said, shooting a demon dead and trying to catch his breath. “Whatever is sending these things at us is just trying to wear us down. Might as well charge in and finish this up.”

“You two are impatient,” Vergil said.

“You’re welcome to stay here and keep swinging away at the cannon fodder. Dante and I will go actually be useful,” Nero said.

Vergil’s expression darkened in irritation, and Dante had to hide a laugh. Nero sure knew how to get to his father.

Sure enough, Vergil moved towards the large hole in the ground that the demons kept pouring out of. “Let’s hurry this up. I can’t tolerate being around the two of you for much longer.”

Nero flashed Dante a thumbs-up, and Dante grinned in return. The two followed after Vergil, and they jumped down into the hole.

“The hell is that?” Nero as they finally spotted the source of this mess.

There stood a large demon, swarmed by what appeared to be hundreds, if not thousands, of the smaller demons. It let out a grating scream that had all three men wincing at the volume.

“Think we pissed her off,” Dante said, and dove to the side as it whipped a sharp tendril at him.

“Don’t let the tendrils hit you. They’re coated in some kind of substance,” Vergil said, readying his sword. “Could be deadly.”

“I dare you to touch the tendril,” Dante said, nudging Nero.

“I should’ve done this job alone,” Vergil said with a long sigh.

“But instead, you’re graced by us,” Nero said, and ran at the demon.

“Reckless,” Vergil hissed. “That boy is so damn reckless.”

“He knows what he’s doing. I think,” Dante said, and took off after Nero.

Vergil moved more carefully, taking precise strikes against the demon’s legs to stagger it. Dante and Nero climbed its back and began to slash away at it, dodging its thrashing tendrils as it screeched and tried to shake them off.

Nero narrowly avoided a tendril in an attempt to get the demon to stab itself. But it was immune to whatever coated its tendril, so Nero instead tried slashing at the tendril itself.

“Nero! Stop playing around! You have no idea what that’ll do to you if it hits you,” Vergil said.

“Careful, he might ground you,” Dante teased.

“It won’t do shit to me if I can cut it off,” Nero said, striking the tendril again and shifting his body so that it flailed past him harmlessly. “This thing is damn hard to cut through. And why does it have so many?”

“You can study them once the demon is dead,” Vergil said, slicing the Yamato across the demon’s leg.

It screeched again, sending a tendril flying at Vergil. Vergil easily moved out of the way, but Nero’s eyes widened as he saw a smaller tendril streaking towards Vergil’s back.

“Vergil!” he cried, leaping off the demon’s back.

He crashed into Vergil just in time to knock him out of the way. Vergil stumbled off balance and hit the ground, looking up just as the tendril stabbed into Nero’s chest and sent him flying back.

Nero hit the ground hard, fingers grasping at his chest, trying to yank the tendril free. Dante and Vergil both sprang into action, trying to cut the tendril off the demon.

Dante grasped it and yanked it free, Nero crying out at the sensation. He grabbed his sword, but dropped it a moment later, gripping his head as panic flashed across his face.

“Nero?” Vergil demanded, fending off another tendril before it could get the vulnerable boy.

“I can’t see!” Nero said in alarm.

Nero swung his head around side to side, but his vision remained pitch black. His chest tingled, but his limbs still worked just fine. He could hear and smell everything fine.

But his vision was gone.

He reached out blindly for his sword, grasping it. He got to his feet, trying to listen hard. He was used to fighting one armed, but not blind. He’d never had to fight blind before.

“Down!”

Someone grabbed him and yanked him to the ground. Something whipped over his head, and he abandoned his sword, grabbing his gun instead and firing at the sound.

“Stop, before you hit one of us,” Dante said, thumping him in the head. “Let me see you.”

“Bastard,” Nero said, trying to kick him.

“Ow! That wasn’t a joke! I really am trying to look you over. Vergil, cover us.” Dante gripped Nero’s shoulders. After a moment, Nero felt Dante’s hand on his chest.

“There’s some sort of film over your eyes,” Dante said at last. “Shit. My dumbass brother talks so big and can’t even watch his own back.”

Nero tightened his hold on his gun, refusing to give into his fear. The darkness reminded him of being sucked into the Savior back in Fortuna. But this time, he would not be weak. He would not be helpless and useless.

“Tell me where to shoot,” he said.

“You should-”

“Tell me where to shoot,” he repeated impatiently.

Dante sighed, and put a hand back on his shoulder. “Someone’s got to keep you covered. Alright, kid, let’s do this. We’ll shoot the thing, and Vergil can carve it up. On your right.”

Dante directed Nero where to shoot, and pulled him out of the way of harm. Nero focused hard on the sounds around him, trying to determine where Vergil was so he didn’t accidentally shoot him. What a waste to save him from the tendril just to accidentally shoot him.

Still, it might be a good excuse to get revenge for his arm…

No, no. Another time, maybe. Right now, he had a demon to kill, eyesight or no eyesight.

“Oh fu- on your left!” Dante cried, gripping Nero’s arm to yank him aside.

But Nero could hear the sound of the tendril whipping through the air towards them. He fired twice at it before Dante pulled him aside.

There was an awful shrieking sound, and then a heavy thump that shook the ground. Nero lowered his gun.

“Vergil?” he guessed.

“Killed it,” Vergil said.

“He’s taking all the credit, but that thing has quite a few bullet holes in it,” Dante said, clapping Nero on the back. “Nice shooting, kid.”

“His eyes,” Vergil said, his voice close to Nero now. “What the hell is this substance?”

“No clue,” Dante said, and Nero heard the slightest strain in his voice. He was worried.

“Is it permanent?” Nero asked, forcing his voice to remain steady. Still, he tightened his grip on his gun to keep his hand from shaking.

“Let’s get you back home so we can look into this,” Dante said, evading the question. “Vergil, cut off a few of those tendrils.”

Nero listened to Vergil do just that. After a few moments, a hand fell on his arm and began guiding him forward.

“We’ll need to carry him out of here,” Dante said, and Nero was surprised to find that his voice was too far back to be the one guiding him.

“I can walk just fine,” Nero said.

“It’ll be too much of a hassle to guide you out,” Vergil said, voice right next to Nero. “Here, just- stay still.”

Nero let out an indignant noise as he was lifted. Wind whipped against his face as Vergil made his way up and out of the hole they jumped into, and it was a few moments before he was set back down. Vergil put a hand on his arm to guide him again.

Nero wanted to shove Vergil’s hand away, but he was well aware he’d end up tripping if he tried to walk alone. There were too many corpses of those smaller demons scattered about.

So he reluctantly allowed himself to be led back to the van. He could hear the engine as they approached.

“What happened to his eyes?” Nico said.

“Unsure. Get us back to his house,” Vergil said.

“I’m sorry, what was that? It sounded like you were trying to give me orders,” Nico said.

“Alright, alright. Nero came in here with his eyesight and now he’s suddenly blind. Maybe fight when we fix that?” Dante said.

Nico grumbled out curse words, but the van jerked into motion. Nero, familiar with the layout, shrugged Vergil’s hand off and got up.

He kept a hand out in front of him as he cautiously made his way to where they kept the water bottles. He managed to grab one and twist the cap off, pouring some into his cupped hand and splashing it into his eyes.

“Stop,” Vergil said, taking the water bottle from him. “We have no idea what that substance is. You could be making things worse.”

“I’m blind!” Nero snapped. “How much worse could I possibly make it?”

“You could make it permanent,” Vergil snapped right back.

Nero swung his head in the direction he thought Dante was in. “You can’t take me home like this. Kyrie will worry.”

“Over here, kid,” Dante said from the opposite direction. “I’ll take you back to my office for now. I already messaged Trish a description of the demon to look into.”

“Are there any other symptoms?” Vergil said.

“A headache, but that might just be because I’m sick of dealing with you,” Nero said. He slumped back against the side of the van, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. “My chest is tingling and my eyes burn. Want to hear about how that makes me feel since you’re playing doctor?”

“Fine, then we’ll stop trying to help and you can suffer,” Vergil said. “If that’s how you want to be.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Nero said, slamming his fist against the wall. “Sorry if I’m not exactly in the best mood right now, but I kind of just went blind, and it might be fucking permanent.”

“And you’re mad because it should’ve been me,” Vergil said.

Nero let out a disbelieving laugh. “You think I’m that shallow? If I wanted it to be you, I wouldn’t have pushed you out of the way. Maybe you wouldn’t have done it for me, but I don’t regret doing it for you, even if this is permanent.”

Vergil fell silent. Nero turned away from him and made his way back to a seat. He didn’t want to let his fear grow too much, so he busied himself feeling his chest injury and trying to judge how badly it had torn his clothes.

When the van finally stopped, he got up and made his way off it without help. But then someone caught his arm and guided him along.

“Dante, I know my way around your office,” Nero said impatiently. “I don’t need a guide.”

“I know that,” Dante said from far ahead of him. “Tell it to your old man.”

“I- oh.” Nero turned his head towards the hand on his arm, though he could see nothing.

“It’s a mess in there. Knowing your way around won’t help,” Vergil said without taking his hand away.

Nero allowed it, if only because of Vergil’s tone. He sounded...almost reluctant. Like he’d finally realized that Nero had saved him for no other reason than that he hadn’t wanted to see Vergil get hurt. No ulterior motive, no “you owe me”; just an instinctive desire to save him.

“Good news,” Trish said as they got Nero seated. “The effects would be permanent on a human, but it’s only temporary on a demon.”

“How is that good news? Nero is more human than demon,” Vergil said, that cold anger back.

“He’s demon enough,” Trish said. “It should wear off in a few hours.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Vergil said.

“It will,” Dante said.

But Nero knew what he’d see if he hadn’t been blinded. He’d see Dante and Trish shooting Vergil that “shut up or you’ll scare him” look. They sounded confident, but Vergil was right. Nero was mixed, with more human in him than his father or uncle. They might be fine if it was them, but it was Nero.

“Reckless,” Vergil grumbled, because he’d evidently reached the same conclusion Nero just had. If Vergil had been stabbed by the tendril, this wouldn’t be an issue. But it had been his son, and now they’d just have to wait and hope. “You’re so reckless.”

“Runs in the family,” Nero said.

That fear was coming back, though. He couldn’t fight if he was blind. It would take him years to learn how to do it with any competency. Years in which the people he cared about wouldn’t have him there to protect them or watch their backs. Years of being weak and vulnerable.

“Stop,” Vergil said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. For once, Nero took a strange comfort in it. “They are right. You’re not human. You’ll be fine in a few hours, and then you’ll go right back to doing something stupid and reckless and put yourself in another bad situation.”

“We’re working on his pep talks,” Dante said.

“Both of you, shut up,” Nero said. But he didn’t want silence, not really.

Vergil and Dante seemed to pick up on it, for which Nero was grateful. He felt the slightest pressure on his shoulder, as if Vergil had tightened his hold.

“Hey, Nero, since we’ve got the time, why don’t I tell you about the time I kicked your old man’s ass in a sword fight when we were kids?” Dante said.

“They were toy swords, and you cheated,” Vergil said.

Nero was grateful for the distraction as the brothers began to bicker and argue about what had happened all those years ago in their fake sword fight. Nero listened to them, focusing on their words so that he wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if this never wore off.

But he knew what would happen. Vergil and Dante would look after him and help him adjust. Because for as irritating as the twins could be, they would never abandon Nero to fight alone in the dark.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Vergil Sparda #whumptober2020 #no.26 #blindness #fic #Dante Sparda #dmc #devil may cry nero #dmc vergil #dmc dante #jtdoeswhumptober #My writing #my post

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roses-shadow · 3 years

Text

A what if fic DMC5 Mission 17

Random fic thought I had awhile ago. Finally wrote it all down. I don’t have an Ao3 account so Ima just post it here.

Edited to add in the spaces that were eaten up. Still figuring out the formating.

Summary

It’s all an illusion, created by this extraordinary fruit.

Sitting upon one of the branches of the tree in front of him, Eva smiled.

***

Dante had finally caught up at last, falling down into the pit where Urizen was in a backdrop of their childhood home. It caught him off guard for a moment, being able to see it as it once was in his memories rather than the destroyed wreck it was in actuality. He wondered if Urizen had created the image, hungry for a taste of home himself.

He could see Urizen positioned in front of the gnarled up extension of the demonic tree, standing motionless save for the roots that still clung to him. It seemed as if he were lost in thought, starring transfixed at whatever fruit had formed for him, not that Dante could see what it looked like with his brother’s hulking form blocking the view.

“Hey, so do I get to see the damn fruit you’ve been jabbering about or are you busy writing you name on it or something?” Dante goaded, hoping to draw his brother away.

Of course, Urizen was indifferent and refused to respond. Dante huffed, taking a few steps closer and widely gesturing to the general area.

“Yup, this is where it all started,” he began, slowly moving closer to Urizen. “The day mother saved me and –”

Dante had walked close enough to see more of the tree behind Urizen’s bulk and stopped short.

Sitting upon one of the branches of the tree in front of him, Eva smiled.

“Hello Dante,” she greeted warmly.

“What the hell,” Dante breathed. “...Mom?”

He took a second to take it in. She was dressed in the same clothes she had died in, the horror of that day leaving an imprint of her in his mind: a black dress with her favorite red shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hands rested primly over her lap as she balanced perfectly on the branch. She looked real, demonic shenanigans or not.

“What is going on?” Dante demanded. “Mom?” Eva bit her lip and gave him a conflicted look and he was impatient enough to bother his brother instead. “Vergil?”

Fortunately, he decided to respond. “This is all merely an illusion, created by this extraordinary fruit,” Urizen absentmindedly explained. “All meant to entice one by giving them what they have always wanted.”

“Always wanted, huh,” Dante mused, eyes staying fixed on Eva. He’d had Trish to rely on as a living legacy of his mother –a more badass version, at least, who could more than hold her own against any of the small fry demons they dealt with. But a more accurate version would be amazing. If he could just get through to Vergil, without having to kill him, and clean up his mess in the process...it’d be the best thing ever if he could have his actual family again. To be able to tell Nero just how closely they were related, let him get to know his own grandmother, and maybe introduce him properly to his own father; but that was another mess to deal with right there. And to have his brother be the one to dream up their mother and a nice peaceful day at their childhood home as his greatest wish? It gave him hope.

Dante lifted a hand and gestured to Eva and the house in the distance, giving an actual genuine smile to her, small as it was. “Well, you’re making a good case for it. Finally realized what matters more than being a power hungry douchebag, brother?”

Eva raised her eyebrow, giving him a look. It made Dante avoid eye contact as he shuffled in place, running a hand through his hair. Years without his mother and he wasn’t doing a good job of impressing her with his manners.

His brother, meanwhile, was dismissive of their small exchange and replied with his standard broken record answer. “On the contrary,” Urizen retorted. “Absolute power is the only thing that matters.”

Dante sighed heavily. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down for a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to figure out a way to get through to his stubborn brother’s obsession with power when a version of their mother was literally right in front of his face. “Look, that day, when mom saved me? She didn’t leave you behind. She kept searching and searching until it killed her.”

“It’s true,” Eva added, looking at Urizen sadly. “I found Dante first but I hid him away before I went to look for you. I couldn’t leave without the both of you.”

Urizen reached for her then, offering his hand as a perch for Eva to climb into. She went willingly, bracing herself on his fingers as she settled herself onto his palm. She gazed up at him affectionately and he gave her a considering look in return, prodding her hair with a single fingertip then slowly trailing it down her face, briefly making her close her eyes as it passed by. He continued to drag it down past her neck and toward the center of her chest, then paused. Eva looked down at where he had paused, then took a breath, meeting his eyes again as she waited for him to decide what to do next.

Dante was hoping he was checking for a heartbeat, further proof that Eva was alive and able to have a part in their lives again.

Urizen had not looked away from where he had stopped his hand. “Futile of you to appeal to me when I have no recollection of this tale.”

He pressed his fingertip into her chest.

Eva gasped, hunching forward and gripping onto his finger with both hands in a fruitless manner in an attempt to push him out. “Vergil,” she panted.

“Vergil, what are you doing?” Dante screamed, rushing forward but already knowing he was too far away to stop him.

“What I have come here to acquire,” Urizen said, continuing to carve open Eva’s chest as she screamed. “And with this, I will have everything.”

Dante was expecting a human heart, but what came out of his mother’s chest was a close simulacrum for a demonic one: textured with a branching over layer, still beating and giving off a dark mist. It was large enough that it was taking up all the space needed for the other organs. Eva was arching backwards as Urizen pulled it free, snapping a connecting cord that made her let out one last gasp before falling limp. His eyes were fixed on the heart as he absentmindedly dropped Eva’s corpse to the ground. He raised it to his lips, blood dripping down his fingers and ate it.

Dante stopped, despair and resignation on his face. He looked down at where Eva lay, closed his eyes and sighed in disappointment.

The illusion of their home shattered, the sky darkening as the tree before them evaporated into a red mist. Dante watched Urizen as he shed the roots covering his body, the pieces large enough to fall on Eva and bury her underneath, only her blond hair barely visible.

“No brother, you don’t have everything,” Dante said quietly, bracing himself for a fight. “That last shred of humanity that you still had?” He scoffed in disgust. “You just lost it.”

Urizen turned his head toward Dante. “That,” he spat, slowly stomping his way to Dante, “Is nothing but the pitiful cries of those without strength. Come to me, brother.” He gestured toward himself, taunting Dante. “I shall enlighten you, Dante.”

***

Later, after Vergil had come back to himself, he turned to where Eva was buried and stared.

#devil may cry #urizen #Dante

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keeroo92 · 3 years

Text

Be My Nightmare Ch18

The Hunt

Word count - 5,487

Quick shout out to @just-another-art-dump for all her help with brainstorming and beta reading the last section. You are a goddess!

Warnings for violence, murder and some yummy spice. Enjoy!

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

--------

V blinked to clear away the sleepiness lingering in his mind. A thick haze of confusion gave him pause; did he have another episode? Where was he? He blinked again, forcing his eyes to focus on his surroundings.

The room was one he recognized instantly. Dark blue walls, posters of rock bands and action films tacked up in places. Splashes of light peeked past the old curtains hanging over a two-paned window. The familiar bookshelf, still messily stuffed with comics and tattoo books, right beside a small desk littered with needles, tubes and other accoutrements.

Nero’s bedroom, untouched since his death. His heart sank. Of all the places to find himself…

The artist took a shaky breath and tried to clear the cobwebs clinging to the rafters of his mind. Last he recalled, he was evading capture and bearing a fresh gunshot wound. Foggy, half-formed images danced in his memory of walking, lovely red on his hands and the hem of his pants, his own blood oozing lazily from his thigh.

As if thinking of it made it manifest, pain rocketed up his leg, fiery and unrelenting. He gasped and brought his hands to press the ache away. Was he still bleeding? How long had he been out? Panic teased at him for a beat before his palms registered the bandage and his missing pants.

What in the world…?

The pain slid into background noise as he carefully shifted his weight and sat up, panning his gaze until he found the culprit of his treatment.

Hot damn, how the hell did she find us?!

“Excellent question,” he croaked.

You weren’t awake yet, and faint streaks of scarlet coated your arms as if you tried to wash his blood off but gave up halfway. Hair a mess, clothing wrinkled and a hint of drool hanging from your lips, he’d never seen you so unkempt.

Good, she’s sleeping. Make a break for it, Van Gogh!

Blue feathers swept past his vision but vanished a heartbeat later. He licked his lips. “I doubt walking is wise for now, let alone ‘making a break for it.’”

Fine, but at least strangle her. She’ll only get in the way.

He rolled his eyes. “You do realize she probably saved my life, right?”

Well… I guess. Fine, don’t kill her but don’t let your guard down.

The artist hummed and Griffon made no further comment. Good enough.

He gritted his teeth and forced his aching body to move closer to you. Shadows hung beneath your eyes and he spotted the remains of yesterday’s makeup, nearly invisible with your hair draped over your cheek. He gently brushed it aside.

Your eyes shot open, instantly alert and aware. “You’re awake… How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better,” he replied with a wry grin. “I’ve also been worse.”

The bed rustled as you sat up and tucked your unruly hair behind your ears, a slight frown turning your lips. “Let me get you something for the pain, one sec.”

Once again summoned by his awareness, he winced as a bolt of agony pulsed up to his hip. By the time it faded, your palm held out two white tablets and a glass of water.

“Drink slowly,” you said. He obeyed.

An oddly heavy silence hung between you as he lowered the glass. Unspoken words, questions and answers alike searching for the right way to surface. None broke free from their cages of closed lips as you checked his pulse, your touch more medical than personal.

He hated it.

“How did you find me?” the artist blurted.

“You don’t remember? Follow with your eyes, not your head,” you replied, one finger drifting this way and that in his sight. He restrained the urge to bat it away. “You sent me a message.”

You goddamned idiot.

There was no arguing against the truth. He didn’t remember considering sending a message, let alone addressing it to you. It was a miracle it didn’t end up in the inbox of a stranger.

Still. You could’ve turned him in. After the way he fled your apartment, it would’ve made sense. He took another small sip of water.

“You came even after what happened. Why?”

The finger lowered. Lips pursed, you gave him an indecipherable look. He watched the wheels behind your hazel irises turn; toward what result, he couldn’t say. Regardless, he reveled in watching your intelligence at work.

“Do you remember what you said to my dad? That you loved me?”

His lips twitched. This didn’t bode well. “Yes.”

There, he spotted a twinge of uncertainty in your brow. Worry in the set of your mouth, vulnerability in the wideness of your eyes. “Did you mean it?”

I TOLD you that was a foolish idea.

Vergil’s words barely registered; V’s mind was already spinning, struggling to find an answer. At the time, he thought it was the best way to get your father to behave. By staking a claim to you, he established his willingness to defend you. He hadn’t considered whether the words held weight. The answer you wanted now was obvious, and to voice it would all but guarantee your allegiance. It was simple.

And yet so complicated.

Do I love her? What does love even mean?

Throughout history, love held innumerable definitions. The word was constantly evolving, shifting to encompass more variations than before. The greatest and most enduring tales ever told centered on it, and not a soul on earth could deny its influence. Monuments and cathedrals stood testament to its strength, and endless words written across the centuries praised or cursed its existence.

Love defined humanity.

Yet how could he know if this was it? What did romantic love feel like? How did one classify such an intangible concept? So many tried, and many more to come. Perhaps the nature of love was variable; why else would everyone have a different idea of what it meant?

Love, like art, must be subjective.

So what is it to me?

“I…” the artist murmured.

His path led the same way with or without you, but he preferred the former. When he knew you’d see the product of his work, its quality improved. You saturated his thoughts, scrawled your name across the walls of his mind with a messiness only doctors managed.

Your presence eased his nerves, and no other came close to matching your intellect. A worthy opponent for mind games and machinations, you never failed to amaze him with your ability to force his hand. You protected him and gave him shelter when he needed it most, and not once did you demand he change his methods. You respected his views. In time, you might even share them.

You challenged him, irritated him, turned him on and gave him hope that he may yet escape the cold embrace of loneliness.

And most of all, there was the inexplicable desire to answer your question with truth instead of manipulation. He didn’t want to tell you he meant what he said just to coerce you into being his. Surely that indicated something?

This isn’t a question I can answer in a single word.

V sighed and met your lovely eyes at last, his response as well-reasoned as he could manage. “I’m not sure. It’s… it’s difficult for me to care for someone, it’s been many years since I tried.”

He paused to lick his lips and assemble another sentence. The answer you wanted remained out of his reach, and he refused to give you the one that would serve his plans best. All he offered was the truth.

Even so, it stung to see the half-hidden disappointment on your face.

“But there’s something there I can’t explain. I just don’t understand the feeling, so I can’t name it,” he concluded. A chorus of pained groans echoed in his mind.

All you had to say was yes! What the hell is WRONG with you, do you want her to stick around or not?!

You sighed and shifted your weight. He didn’t dare to comment further.

“I think I understand. It… it scares me sometimes, but I can’t deny that I care about you anymore. I can’t keep hiding.”

V released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His heart was pounding, a giddy desire to laugh tickling his throat. Impulse took the reins, and he watched in wonder as his hand moved to take yours.

“You never have to hide again,” he whispered.

~~~~Waras~~~~

Something in his eyes hammered home his words. An earnest, unguardedness that you’d never seen before. Genuine gratitude and honesty, perhaps. You couldn’t look away.

You discarded thought and leaned in. Lips parted and heart hammering against your ribs, frenetic excitement stilling your breath as V did his best to match your movement.

The kiss was gentle, completely different from what you’d shared at the museum or in your apartment. The world melted away. It was just you and him, everything else was just color and noise, polluting the fragile bond you’d formed. Despite the lies and manipulation, past the tricks and mind games.

Somehow, like a miraculous seed sprouting in a rocky cliff face, love bloomed in a heart that had never known it.

When at last you pulled away, a lopsided smile curved V’s lips. The emerald pools of his eyes sparkled with genuine affection, and his palm refused to leave your cheek. You didn’t mind.

In fact, you wanted more.

You kissed him again, harder this time. Lips communicating without words your need, not just for contact but for understanding. Hunger and reckless desire danced across your mouth, your fingers grasping at his chest. You’d never know which of you moaned first; just that the sound sent you careening past the point of no return.

By the time you came up for air, you were helpless.

“Hold still,” you whispered. The artist licked his lips and nodded.

You wiggled off your jeans, panties tucked within. A soft gasp stroked your ego as you pulled off your top and carefully straddled him, his length hardening against your tingling folds. Gods, how you wanted to feel him deep within, feel his body arcing to meet yours as his voice gave out in a whirlwind of pleasure.

But that would have to wait. This time, he needed to let you do all the work.

“If you lift your hips, I’m getting off. Got it?”

His palms traced fire over your hips, blazing over your body as he smirked at you. Damn him, the smug bastard. “Doctor’s orders?”

You almost moaned at the husky tone he used. “Just say yes, damnit.”

His smirk vanished. Lithe fingers took hold of your ass and gently pulled, guiding you to envelop him one inch at a time. His brows met and his lips fell open, his face an expression of sheer perfection your imagination could never capture.

“Yes…” he murmured.

He fit perfectly, stretching you just enough without being painful. The ridge of his head pushed past your inner muscles and sent a shockwave of pleasure throughout your limbs. Your slick walls shuddered at the welcome fullness, embracing his heat like a long lost friend. Like he belonged there.

Like he was coming home.

For a moment, you didn’t move, wanting to memorize the feeling of being with him for the first time. A choice made many weeks past set your life on course to this exact moment, your every decision only bringing you closer. Two stars orbiting each other, closer and faster with each second as two became one in a fiery explosion that shook the heavens.

You smiled, hands snaking around his neck as you rolled your hips. Nerves sang as you moved, crying out in exultant joy. It was torture to move so slowly, such exquisite agony when all you wanted was to slam against his hips and feel his need splitting you in half.

Slick fluid coated him in seconds as you moved. Each movement pulled him deeper, deeper, deeper. Hot breath spilled from his lips, soft moans from yours. His hands gripped your hip bones, urging you to keep going, his muscles flexing to help you rise and fall, guiding you to impale yourself over and over.

Beads of sweat broke out across your back, but you paid them no mind. It was worth it to hear the man curse and gasp, his eyes hooded and skin flushed from your attention. The time would come for him to show you how he liked it, but for now you reveled in the power you held. It took all your strength to keep from bouncing recklessly.

But the artist was no passenger, and his grip shifted to tangle in your hair and drag your mouth to his for a searing kiss. His tongue danced a tango with yours, flicking and darting back and forth to torture you with his intoxicating taste. Whimpers flowed from your throat only for him to swallow.

Why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner?

The artist grinned against your needy lips, his lithe fingers lowering to tease at your core. Your body quivered as he lazily painted bliss over your aching bundle, as if you were his latest canvas. He spewed filth as he hunted for that perfect spot, his touch taunting you with ecstasy long before he struck gold.

“That’s it, right there, come on!” you gasped out, arcing back at the brink of ecstasy..

The artist obeyed, tugging you down again to suckle at your pulse. His lips were heaven on your throat, and his teeth nirvana when he blessed you with a nibble. It was too much and somehow not enough, never enough, never-

FUCK!

The world flashed blindingly white, searing your retinas as you crested. The cosmos raced by, the colors and shapes too beautiful to understand. Brilliance and beauty, a kaleidoscope of life. A silken voice moaned praise somewhere nearby, a wet tongue dancing over your chest between words. Losing control never felt so good.

Beneath your spasming body, V’s hips twitched. He sucked in a breath but the pulsing of his cock against your soaked core didn’t ease, his moans changing to a tone you weren’t familiar with. Lower and louder, more breathy in the grip of his orgasm, resonant and musical. You flexed around him, tightening as much as you could manage to feel every throb.

When at last he fell still, it took all your willpower to dismount and check his bandage for fresh blood. You’d rather have curled up at his side and revelled in the afterglow, but that would have to wait. This wasn’t a feel-good made for TV movie where the realities were tossed aside in the wake of a long-awaited union; life didn’t stop just because two people wanted it to.

If only it were that easy.

Thankfully, you didn’t find any cause for concern. A slight dribble, but already clotting. You made sure the wrapping was still tight and laid back, content for now as his slim arms wrapped around you.

His fingers stroked your hair, lazily pulling apart any tangles he found in the process. It was so peaceful, so normal to just lie there and forget the world, but you didn’t let yourself enjoy it for long. Reality wasn’t going anywhere.

“So, now what?” you asked. “We can’t stay in one place too long.”

V sighed, his fingers stilling. “Especially here; they’ll connect it to me far too easily.”

You rose on one arm, giving him a quizzical look. “Why?”

The artist closed his eyes. His jaw flexed and for a moment you feared you’d gone too far, pried too deeply without thinking, but you didn’t dare try to backpedal.

“This… this is Nero’s room,” he responded at last.

Oh. Oh, no…

There were no words to ease the tension his words brought. You knew full well the efforts he took in order to conceal his past, and here you were, invading it.

Minutes passed in utter silence. An apology lingered on your lips, but without knowing the full story it felt insincere. Not long ago, you would have spoken the words without thought, but now… Now you wanted to only say things you meant.

At last, V broke the stillness.

“We need to move. I’ll…” he paused, as if the words pained him. “I’ll need your help.”

“You have it,” you replied. No hesitation, no weighing of the pros and cons. If he needed you, you would be there.

“There’s only one way to guarantee we won’t be disturbed.”

You sighed, heart heavy but unwavering. “I know.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “There’s no going back after this.”

You almost laughed. “There’s already no going back.”

He hummed, satisfied. Yes, you knew exactly what he meant. The only way to make sure you found an unoccupied home…

Was to slay the homeowner.

~~~Nico~~~

Nico gritted her teeth as the flash of a camera blinded her yet again. She hated reporters. They just wanted sensationalist headlines, not actual facts and definitely not to calm the public.

If folks stayed calm, they wouldn’t sell papers.

Damned vultures.

“As I said, this is an ongoing investigation so there’s only so much I can say,” she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “Next question.”

The clamoring turkeys all started shouting, arms lifted almost as an afterthought. She wanted to scream at them. “Yeah, you, in the front.”

A brown haired man smiled at her, his comrades falling still for a merciful moment. “Jim Kovelli, Red Grave Daily. How can citizens stay safe until you make an arrest?”

Finally, something she could actually answer. “Thanks, Jim. We strongly recommend people travel in groups of at least two, preferably three as we have reason to believe the killer has an accomplice. All the victims so far were alone when they were… uh…”

Shit! I’m not supposed to mention the victims, or the methods he’s used. We don’t want a copycat.

She struggled to find words. If she tried to start over, the frenzy would only worsen. The vultures knew blood was in the water and they didn’t know the meaning of mercy. Her heart pounded, desperation seeping through her mind. Saying the wrong thing here might get somebody killed. Why the fuck did the chief want her to talk to the press?

I’m nobody! It shoulda been someone more experienced up here.

A heavy tread approached, Tony coming to her rescue yet again. Damnit, this was her first press conference, and she botched it. Even though she knew she wasn’t the best person for the job, she’d wanted to do it well, earn a little respect. How was she gonna look her partner in the eye after this?

“Folks, this isn’t rocket science. Stay in groups, don’t go off with people you don’t know, and report any strange behavior immediately. If you see something, do not intervene but call the hotline. The killer and his accomplice are likely armed and considered extremely dangerous. Don’t be a hero. Next question, please.”

Nico hung her head and stepped back, letting Tony take her place at the podium. Her heart sank, and she sighed. This case was just… it was tearing her apart. She barely ate, and she couldn’t remember the last time she slept through the night. Even showering seemed like a distraction.

“Magda Dunham, Buzzfeed News. What can you tell us about the accomplice?”

Nico glared at the crowd of reporters. Didn’t they realize their incessant questions took time away from the real police work? It’s not like she could review Waras’ file during this charade.

Yet Tony gave a kind, calming smile, seemingly unfazed. How the hell did he do that, keep his face from showing how fucked the situation was? A law-abiding citizen, with no goddamn criminal record and a pristine reputation, now believed to be aiding a psycho killer. It was insane.

“While we can’t release any names yet, we have reason to believe a female is assisting the killer. She is intelligent and well versed in psychology, and may try manipulation tactics or coercion to get someone alone. Again, do not travel alone and be wary of strangers. Last question, guys,” her mentor replied.

A swarm of voices answered him, and he pointed to a face in the back. “Penny Slope, The Weekly. Is the psychiatric hospital going to close, or are you content to let killers stay in the city?”

Tony barely twitched. If she’d gotten that question, Nico knew she would have snapped. The hospital wasn’t the issue here; the killer was!

“We are never content to allow killers to roam our streets, and we won’t rest until our city is safe. All I can say about the psychiatric hospital specifically is that they’re implementing additional security measures and we’re working closely with their staff to make sure our friends and neighbors are protected. I’m afraid that’s all the time we have, though. Thank you all for coming out.”

The horde shouted more questions even as Nico and Tony stepped away. Flashes left her blinking, blinded and ready to smack someone if they got too close, but her partner had her back. His warm hand guided her inside the station and back to the conference room.

“You okay, kid?”

Her vision flared red. She was not a kid. Inexperienced, yes. But a kid?

“No. You know what, hell no! Those piss ants are just lookin’ for a headline, they don’t give a shit that people are dying! There’s a damned murderer out there and all they want is someone to blame! It pisses me off. Not to mention we know who the killer is, but for some reason we still can’t say his name or identify the doctor! It’s fucking bullshit! People need to know who to look for, right now all they’re gonna do is panic anytime someone sticks out!”

She slammed her fist against the table and growled, “And I ain’t no kid.”

Tony tossed his hat on the table and ruffled his hair. His face finally showed something other than a mask of composure, falling into exhaustion as he sat down and sighed.

“I know. You’re right.”

Nico’s jaw dropped. “Wh- what?”

Tired blue eyes met confused brown. “I said, you’re right. It is bullshit. I don’t know why the chief is pussy footing around on this. All I can say is that if you wanna stay on the case, you gotta do as you're told. Especially in the public eye.”

Nico’s rage evaporated at the defeated tone of her mentor’s voice. She pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “But how do you keep it together? How do you stay so calm when they’re asking you such dumbass questions?”

Tony shrugged. “We protect everyone. Even the idiots.”

The young brunette took her glasses off and stared into the lenses. All she wanted was to catch this guy, why couldn’t it just be that straightforward? The press, the people, office politics, it was all just a waste of time.

Hell, maybe if people stopped distracting her she’d have caught the fucker by now.

A warm weight settled on her shoulder. She glanced up at Tony, disheartened and desperate for any answers he could offer. “Hang in there, Nico. You’re a great cop. You just need to get the hang of the crappy part of the job.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Eventually, Tony wandered off and left her to her thoughts. His words helped, but she still wanted to punch somebody. Preferably, the god damned doctor.

I don’t just wanna catch V now. I gotta get her, too.

She picked up her glasses and stood, mind focused once again. She couldn’t give up, no way. A little more work and they’d be hers to arrest, her need for justice satiated at last. Giving up wasn’t an option.

~~~~Waras~~~~

Blood rushed in your ears. Sweat prickled the back of your neck, hidden under the dark hood of your sweatshirt. Cheerful music played on the grocery store’s speakers. It jangled against your nerves as you surveyed the shoppers, searching for a target that fit the parameters you and V agreed to.

Someone alone, preferably small. Not buying enough food for more than themselves. The less attention they pay to their surroundings, the better.

It was all happening so fast, you’d barely had a chance to wrap your head around it. For so long, you’d tried to blend in, tried to hide your deficiencies. The walls you built to protect yourself weren’t meant to crumble, but to last an age. You’d gotten so used to it, you almost forgot normalcy was an act.

But V broke through, first with a whisper and now with a shout. His voice grew louder each day, beckoning you out of your disguise. He was pollen and you were a bee. Madness was no cage to him - it was freedom. Regret held no sway, doubt and hesitation banished from his mind.

The prison you built for yourself was yours to shatter, and choosing a target was just one step closer.

There weren’t many people who suited your needs. An older woman browsing cat food, an awkward teenage boy peeking at condoms, or a person with no obvious gender looking at cereal.

You bit your lip and tried to slow your racing heart. With V’s injury, making the choice fell to you, as did leading the target to an isolated area. The artist hadn’t asked you to make the killing blow, but the end result was the same.

I’m taking part in murder.

The thought held a curious excitement. No fear or disgust, as you knew it should, but a desire to know more. You wanted to understand what it meant to kill, go through every stage of the process and analyze it, piece by piece.

There’s so much I want to know.

You grabbed a box of macaroni and added it to your cart. Not only were you tailing potential victims, you were also getting a few essentials. It helped you blend in, and who knew what you’d find in your victims home? You had to make sure V ate, to get his strength back and heal.

A jar of pasta sauce joined the macaroni. There wasn’t anything else in the aisle you needed, so you left and followed the cat lady toward checkout. Her cart was barren, save for dozens of tins and a bag of kibble. Did she eat cat food, too?

She was the obvious choice. The teenager browsing condoms probably had a girlfriend who’d miss him, and he was too young to be a homeowner. The non-conforming third option left too much to chance. You didn’t have enough information to know if they fit your needs. The cat lady held the least risk.

Step one complete. On to step two.

How do I get her to follow me behind the store to where V’s waiting?

You didn’t have long to decide. She was about to pay, her car keys already in her palm.

Lips pursed, you handed a twenty to the cashier ringing you up and quickly took your bags. Your target was mere seconds ahead of you. No more time to think; it was now or never. You took a deep breath.

“Excuse me, miss?” you began. She was a bit old to be called miss, but most women took it as a compliment. It might help break the ice.

She turned to face you, peering through her bifocals. “Yes?”

Your stomach churned. If you messed this up, you’d have to start over somewhere else, forcing V to travel when every step brought agony. He claimed it wasn’t bad, but you knew better.

“Sorry to bother you, but um… do you think you could help me? My friend lives in the apartments back there,” you paused to point at the cluster of buildings behind the shop. “And he says his cat just went into labor. He’s scared to move her, but he thinks she needs a vet and neither of us have a car! Can you maybe drive us, please?”

You bit your lip and tried to look desperate even as endorphins flooded your circulatory system.

“Of course! I couldn’t let the poor thing suffer,” she paused, glancing to the side. “But… well, with everything that’s been going on, I’m not comfortable going inside. Will you two be able to bring her down?”

You allowed your expression to collapse into relief. “Yes, thank you! Let me show you where to bring the car, it’ll be faster this way.”

“What’s your name, dear? I’m Margaret.”

“Emily. It’s nice to meet you, Margaret,” you replied, pausing just long enough to shake her withered hand. One foot already in the grave.

The woman nodded and followed without protest as you led her behind the shop. The area wasn’t well lit and shadows painted a sinister backdrop over the cold cement. V’s hiding place was just ahead.

“It’s dark back here… maybe we should stay on the main roads, just to be safe?” the woman said. Damn, she was more vigilant than you first thought. You didn’t slow.

“It’s just around the corner, I promise!”

She frowned, but took another few steps to keep up. People instinctively keep moving if the person in front of them does. One more step, and she’d be in V’s range. Your breathing froze, head spinning as you turned around to see him in action at last, to watch the killer in his element.

He didn’t let you down.

Green eyes saw nothing but their target, utterly focused on the task at hand. Despite his injury, he moved with singular purpose. His mouth a thin line, the artist didn’t make a sound as he swung a scavenged length of pipe at the back of Margaret’s head. A sickly, wet crackle and a wheezing gasp barely preceded her collapse onto the pavement.

Whoa… Did he just kill her in one blow?

You stepped closer and pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. It was weak and thready, but she was still alive. You said as much to V and rose.

The artist smirked and adjusted his beanie. “Care to do the honors?”

A tattooed hand held out the bloody pipe, as if he were offering nothing more than a turn in a batting cage. Your legs turned to jelly and a flash mob of butterflies careened though your digestive tract. Goosebumps erupted across your spine and you struggled to swallow the golf ball in your throat. You hadn’t expected this, not yet.

“Hm, maybe not,” he said. “That’s fine, I’m happy to demonstrate. Watch closely.”

He limped to Margaret’s helpless body, humming as he crouched down to turn her head towards you. A thin line of blood trickled from her open lips. The briefest pang of guilt teased at you. She’d seemed like a nice person.

“It’s better when they’re awake, but this will do,” the artist murmured. He raised the pipe high.

I’m about to watch this woman die.

Time slowed to a crawl as V struck. His face contorted into a vicious snarl, rage and fury engraved in his features. He was raw and exposed, possibly the purest version of himself you’d yet seen. Animalistic and predatory, thrilled by his supremacy.

And yet…

In the moment the pipe crushed Margaret’s skull and sprayed hot blood across the pavement, there was something else. A sadness almost like grief. A brokenness hidden behind his wrath, as if he were killing a part of himself instead of an unlucky stranger.

And then it was over, the pipe clanging as the artist dropped it. The expression vanished, masked behind a smirk. You wondered if he was even aware of the change, if he felt the anger and the loss.

What the hell did I just see?

But this wasn’t the time to figure it out, as V’s pained gasp reminded you. He’d been upright for far too long, and after a swing like that his wound must be excruciating. You shoved aside your confusion and curiosity, forcing your mind to prioritize your current predicament. Philosophical explorations could wait.

V limped back to lean on a wall as you rifled through Margaret’s purse. Her wallet and keys were all you needed, and the second you had them, you went to the artist.

“The address on her license isn’t far. Come on.”

It wouldn’t be safe for long. As soon as the body was found, you’d have to move again. The best you could hope for was a couple of days, two or three if you were lucky. Enough time for the artist’s wound to start knitting back together and for you to process the last twenty-four hours.

It’s been a long day.

You hoped Margaret had a comfortable bed.

~~~Next Chapter~~~

#Be My Nightmare #my writing #fanfic #v x reader #v x oc #dmc #dmc v #vitale #tw: violence #tw: murder #spicy

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daemongal · 5 years

Note

86 for Dante! 88 for V!! and 136 for Vergil!!! Pretty please and thank 🙏🏻

Ooh an interesting combo! Warnings for NSFW, angst and a polite T/W for descriptions of panic attacks/trauma. Enjoy and your welcome!

Prompts taken from this post!

_____

“Am I scaring you?” - Dante x reader

“Ahh, fuck babe you’re so tight.” The sounds of breathy moans and hips slapping against your ass filled the room as you rested on all fours on the bed, Dante taking you roughly from behind.

“God- shit, Dante. You’re more- ah- more wound up that usual.” His thrusts were fast and harsh, jolting through your entire being; it was bliss. Your throat was dry, your breaths raspy as he ploughed into you hitting you in every sweet spot with each precise movement.

“Stressful day babe- uhh- stressful day.” His hands gripped your hips tightly, hard enough to bruise as his pace slowed, each thrust increasing with intensity. Your arms gave way beneath you as you were being pushed forward, your face burying into the sheets. You turned your head to the side, looking through lidded eyes towards your lover. Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open at the sight.

The hands gripping your hips had turned scaly, long claws digging onto your skin. His chest was dappled with patches of red scales that spread up his neck onto his face. His eyes glowed red and sharp fangs protruded from his gums, his lips upturned into a large smile. A guttural growl rose from his chest as his eyes met yours. Arousal spread through you like a wave, as your body tensed, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

Dante flipped you onto your back, claws resting either side of your head as his head leaned down towards yours, heavy breaths hitting your face.

“Am I scaring you?” Dante questioned, a twinge of worry in his voice. You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck as you returned his intense look.

“Oh, quite the opposite big boy.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his back pushing him back towards your heat. “This look suits you extremely well.” The smirk returned to his face as he thrusted back into you with a renewed passion.

“You’re unreal babe, and I’m gonna ruin you.”

“After everything…I’d still choose you.” V x reader

The guilt was thick in his eyes, his expression dark as he spilled his secrets to you. Everything he had kept from you for the past month, about his past, about who he was and about who he will inevitably become. You tried your best to take it all in, but the truth was an onslaught to your senses.

“I realise now how important everything was… everything I’ve thrown away in my pursuit of power…” He reached his hand up to your face, caressing your jawline with his fingers as they ghosted along your skin. “and everything I will have to throw away as a consequence of my actions.” Your eyes dart between his, unable to form words or even coherent thoughts. Tears threatened to form in the corners of your eyes as you tried to grasp the weight of his words.

“Once I return to Urizen, I will be no more. What I am now will give way to what I once was. We… will be no more.” Your eyes widened at his words, heart sinking to the soles of your feet as a tear rolled down your cheek at his words. You shook your head slowly, eyes filling up from confusion and pain.

“No, V.” He kept your gaze, although you could see in his eyes he was already defeated. “After everything… I’d still choose you.” A spark glistened in his eyes at your words, his lips parted and closed, mouthing words he was not able to speak.

“Even if you aren’t the you that is sat in front of me now, if there’s even a part of you left by the end; it will always be you.” Your hand reached to his face now, brushing against crumbling skin as his breath hitched, tensing under your touch. “I love you V, and that will never change.” His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, his hand reaching up to cup yours, to press you further against his face as if confirming your existence.

“It may be asking too much of you my love, but please promise me one thing.” You leaned in to press your forehead to his.

“Anything.”

“Keep me living in your memories, as I am before you now. I wish… to be remembered as I am now, for my existence to have held… some meaning.” Tears were falling freely from your eyes, the pain thick in his voice causing your stomach to twist. There was so much you had to say to him, so much you could have told him, but his breaking skin was a painful reminder of how little time he had left.

“It’s a promise. I don’t know what made you think that for a moment I could forget you, V; my precious poet.” He squeezed your hand as he stood, turning to face the qliphoth in the distance, shielding you from whatever expressions adorned his features.

“Now let’s make haste, we… I have little time left.”

“You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.” Vergil x reader

Blood was splattered on the walls, screams echoed through the halls as you pressed your hands to your ears, knees tucked into your chest as tightly as you could. You scrunched your eyes shut, refusing to look out from under the bed. You’d already caught a glimpse of the demons slaughtering their way through your household and you had no desire to lay your eyes on them ever again. You were praying, praying and hoping that something or someone would save you.

A clatter to the floor startled your eyes open as they met with those of your brothers as a silent scream spread across his face. His hand outstretched towards you as a scythe dropped against his neck, his head detaching from his body and rolling slowly to the side. Tears streamed down your face as you smothered your mouth with your hands, your chest heaving with each silent ragged breath you took. Your body shook, eyes widening as the demons’ feet moved towards you, scythe scraping on the floor. Closer… closer… before…

Your eyes opened, your breaths fast and raspy, hands gripping bruisingly against flesh. Your head was spinning, your body drenched with sweat as tears continued to roll down your face.

“Love, are you with me?” His voice cut quickly through your mind, pulling you back to reality, grounding you in the present. You were in bed, Vergil leaned over you, concern filled his eyes.

“Shhh, I’m here. I’m here and I will protect you, no matter what.” His hand reached up to your face, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb. You shook below him, trying your best to control your breathing.

“V-Vergil!” You released your grip on his arm and threw your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he hooked his hand around the back of your head, holding you gently in place, stroking your hair softly.

“My dear, you had a nightmare. Please, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.” You knew he meant it. This man would do anything for you, but what he had already done was more than enough.

“It was… it was about that night.” You started in between breaths. “The night you saved me.” You nuzzled into him, smearing your tears and sweat against his pristine skin. His hold was so gentle, contrary to your first impressions of the man. His hard exterior would always break apart for you, revealing a part of himself only visible to you.

“Right now, you are here with me, in my arms. Tell me, what did I say to you that night?” You dragged your mind from the visions of horror you had seen, and cast your mind to the first time he held you, when he took you away from that place.

“You told me,” you started, as you regained control over your breathing, “that you would save me again, as many times as it would take. That you would always be there to drag me out of the depths of despair.” He pressed a kiss to your hair as he leaned back to look you in the eyes, hand cupping your cheek.

“And I plan to keep my promise to you, my maiden fair.” He planted a soft kiss against your lips. “As many times as it will take.”

#ns/fw #angst #v x reader #dante x reader #dmc #devil may cry #prompts #ask #lemon #dante #v #requests are still open #but i have a lot #so please bear with me!#hope you enjoyed!#drabble challenge #vergil x reader #vergil

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years

Text

A Rose of Unconscious Beauty (Part 6)

All work and no play make Dante a dull devil, but when he finds out about his brother's flowery friend he sees an opportunity to cure his boredom. Well, that and his curiosity about what kind of woman catches Vergil's attention. So, he decides to spontaneously visit your garden to see what all the buzz is about.

Hope you enjoy these two finally meeting! And gardening puns...just all the gardening puns. 😆❤

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹

Chapter 1: Meeting Dante

Life has been pretty good for Dante since he got back from his little foray into hell. He may still be in quite a bit of debt, but that never stops him from living life to the fullest. For the first time in a long time he does not feel so alone in the Devil May Cry shop. There is just one problem that plagues him now as he leans back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of his desk as a huge overdrawn yawn escapes his mouth…

He is bored.

Very, very…BORED.

The occasional odd job usually keeps him entertained, but business has been slow recently. There is only so much games of pool and swimsuit magazines before Dante is positively itching to fight something…anything. Nero has taken advantage of this dry spell and is finally getting hitched to Kyrie. Even Vergil, who he annoys into fighting sometimes just for sheer fact that it relieves his boredom for a while, has taken to disappearing from time to time.

Oh yeaaaaah. The mysterious flowery friend.

Dante ponders the potential of that whole situation giving him something to do besides sitting alone in his shop. He did not think it strange when Vergil started to go out more…in fact, he is proud that his brother is finally embracing his humanity and making this world his home. But when his cranky brother came back to the shop with pretty little blue flowers wrapped around his beloved Yamato…well, now that just piqued his curiosity. He tries to goad Vergil into telling him where he got the flowers or where he has been disappearing off to lately, but that conversation usually ends with him being stabbed a lot. Dante got his answer one day when Nero asks if he knew this florist that his old man just recommended to him. It all just suddenly clicked. The constant visits, the soft cloud nine smiles, just the overall secrecy…

Vergil…has a crush.

Just the idea of his brother being head over heels for someone has Dante shaking his head in wonder. Vergil has already left the shop, probably visiting his florist friend if Dante had to guess. It happens to be the day that Nero and Kyrie are supposed to meet their savior of flowers. He wanted to tag along to see what all the hype is about, but Nero absolutely refused to let him. Usually, that is not enough to deter Dante, but then his nephew just had to sick Kyrie on him. And how could anyone say no to her? So, here he sits…extremely bored and very curious.

I have to know if it’s true…if my dumbass brother really is lovestruck…

A sudden idea pops into Dante’s head as he takes out his cellphone and begins to text:

Dante: Hey! Gonna see your old mans flower girl today, amiright?

Nero: NO. Forget it.

Nero: Im not spying 4 u

Dante: NO ONE said ANYTHING about spying!

Dante: Just a couple of pics!

Nero: NO U CREEP

Dante: OH C’MON!!!

Dante taps on his screen vigorously as he provokes his stubborn nephew to reply, but after a few minutes of continued silence he gives up. He rolls his eyes as he groans in mild irritation and drops his phone onto the desk. His nimble fingers stroke his scruffy chin in thought, wondering if there will ever be an end to this torturous boredom…then it hits him faster than the Devil May Cry van. Nico! Dante snaps his fingers and nods his head in approval at his own ingenious idea. He snatches his phone back up and begins to text again:

Dante: Heyyyyyyy

Nico: Wat

Dante: Wanna help a friend out?

Nico: Lemme guess

Nico: U want me to spy for ya, right?

Dante: A couple of pics is NOT spying

Nico: Yeah yeah whatever

There is a long pause and Dante almost thinks his last-ditch effort is a bust. Until…

Nico: Mayyyyybe I’ll do it

Nico: Wats in it for me tho?

Dante only has to think about her prize for second before replying.

Dante: I’ll let you check out my guns

Nico: Ive already seen my fair share of muscles

Dante: Im talking about Ebony and Ivory

Nico: U GOTTA FUCKIN DEAL

Dante clenches his fist in victory. Nico tells him to hold tight while she finds a good hiding spot and the perfect angle. So, he grabs the nearest swimsuit magazine to read while he waits for Nico’s sneaky photos.

He only has to read a couple of pages of articles and check out a few curvy ladies before his phone vibrates. “Well now…let’s see what we've got,” he announces aloud as his hand instantly picks up his phone and eagerly opens up the message. Here she is! is written below two pictures of a bubbly woman with a bright smile and lively eyes. In one photo she is sitting down at a garden table, and in the other she is standing by a bed of flowers. She is wearing white summer dress and has a white flower in her hair. Dante chuckles in glee because now he understands why his brother has fallen so hard: the local florist is a total babe!

Dante is about to get back to his magazine when another text from Nico comes through:

Nico: Yoooooooooo

Nico: U didnt tell me that Vergil was gonna be here!

Dante: Im not my brother’s keeper!

Nico: Im NOT about to get stabbed if he catches me

Nico: Im out

Dante: WAIT

Dante: I’ll sweeten the deal!

Dante: If you get a pic of them together

Nico: DANTE

Dante: Then I’ll let you check out my guns

Dante: FOR A WEEK

A very long pause follows and Dante thinks that Nico is still going chicken out despite his sudden add on to her prize when her response chimes in:

Nico: U better hold up your end of the deal, Dante

Dante: Nicooooo u know I always keep my word!

Nico: Cuz if u dont, I’ll run u over with the van

Dante: No u wont

Nico: VROOM VROOM BITCH

Dante’s amused chuckle echoes throughout the shop. “So, that’s where you’re running off to,” he comments to himself. “The secret garden.” As he waits for Nico’s next photo, he starts to wonder what kind of a woman catches the eye of his broody brother. I mean…sure, you’re a cutie, but Dante knows that Vergil is not so easily swayed by looks alone. Of course, he could be reading into this too much and you’re actually just a really adorable friend…which is why he has to see both of you together. If Vergil has that soft smile on his face and if you show any sign of reciprocating his brother’s feelings…

His phone vibrates and Dante immediately opens the message. How's this for ya? reads Nico’s text along with a bunch of laughing emojis and a video clip. He arches an eyebrow as he presses play. He sees Nero, Kyrie, Vergil, and you all walking together by a bunch of flowers. He cannot make out the soft conversation of the group, but he does hear a lighthearted giggle as you do a twirl. Dante squints his eyes when he notices your hand reach for something in your dress…then his eyes widen as you throw petals into the air. The distinct growl of his brother comes through the audio and Dante nearly chokes on his own laugh. Some of the little pink flowers you threw…are sticking to Vergil’s hair!

I’m totally saving this just for the look on his face!

Dante kicks his feet off of the desk and he leans forward in his chair, never taking his eyes off the screen as Nero and Kyrie step out of frame. He tilts his head when Vergil kneels and you start to pluck the flowers from his hair. Dante has to rub his eyes to make sure he is really seeing these events correctly. Things get really interesting when you move in closer. The awkward expression on his brother’s face is pure gold. But what really has him pressing his nose to the screen is when Vergil stands up and you both just stare at each other. It is like a scene cut straight from a romantic movie. Dante has never seen his brother look so…totally in love. And you are mirroring the exact same expression.

Jackpot!

The video starts to shake and he hears Nico quietly cursing up a storm. The screen is a blur for a moment before it just totally cuts off. Dante is still for a while as he takes in everything that just happened. He honestly did not expect Vergil to be bitten by the love bug. A genuine smile curls on his lips as he thinks that maybe you are exactly what his brother needs to finally let go of the past and start living. But he cannot be the helpful little brother that he is without at least meeting you first. The genuine smile turns mischievous as Dante texts Nico about happened after the video ended and where exactly is this secret garden in the city...

(A Week Later...Reader’s POV)

The late afternoon sun beats down as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You examine the rambling roses you are currently pruning, checking to see if you missed anything before standing up and stretching your legs. Sweet basil, it’s hot, you thought, taking off your gardening hat and fanning your face as you pocket your pruning shears. You think about Vergil and how he always seems to keep cool while wearing a long blue coat in the summer.

The power of Sparda must also include internal air conditioning. You giggle at your own quip as you put the gardening hat back on your head and decide to take a break. As you walk through the multitude of flowers you search for any sign of the Son of Sparda among the flora. He has not called to inform you that he is stopping by today, but that does not necessarily mean he will not show up unannounced…annoyingly startling you before buttering you up with an offering of beautiful blooms.

Vergil has been regularly visiting you in your garden now. Sometimes both of you read and drink tea under the fruit trees, other times you have to work and just let him read in peace while frolicking about your garden. Every now and then he insists on looming close behind you, claiming that he wants to observe how you arrange bouquets and care for the flowers. There are a few times that you somehow rope him into helping since he is so inclined to learn and you must admit…seeing a tall and imposing man handle tiny flowers carefully is so endearing, making you fall even harder for the handsome devil.

You step through the backdoor and walk into your kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and swiftly open the door. When the cold air hits your face you sigh and just stand there for a moment to cool off as you reach for a bottle of water. You close the fridge and head to your office to check the status of a shipment on your computer while you guzzle down half of the bottle. The flowers for Nero and Kyrie’s wedding are well in supply, but you ordered some extra ribbon, wires, needles, and other miscellaneous supplies. It is a little stressful that you only have so much time to pull this off, but that only pushes you to do your utmost best to give them the best flowers they have ever seen. All seems to be order, you mentally note, finishing off your water bottle as you tab out of the website.

Time to get back to work! You go back out to the garden, grab the garden hose, and turn on the outdoor faucet. You adjust the nozzle on the hose to spray into a mist and set off to water some flowers. “Alright, my darlings!” you say cheerfully as you step up to the first section of flowers. “Who’s thirsty?” You happily spray their petals with glistening droplets as you hum softly. One of the many reasons why you enjoy gardening so much is just how tranquil it can be, your mind slipping into a peaceful state as all your worries just drift away and you feel like a flower basking in the warm sunlight.

Although, you do find yourself ceaselessly daydreaming about a certain white-haired gentleman while gardening lately. You cannot get the feel of his slicked back locks out of your thoughts, yearning to do more than just pluck petals from his hair. You wonder if the bergamot scent is from a cologne he is wearing or the constant cups of his favorite tea. And the expression on his face after you picked the stray petals from his hair…cheeks slightly blushing as his gleaming silver eyes stare straight into your soul. The very memory of it has you shivering in delight as you turn around to water the next section of flowers.

“Holy hollyhock!”

The sudden appearance of a man in a long red jacket standing in your garden has you jumping back in surprise. Your foot steps on the garden hose, making you lose your balance and start to tip over. Thankfully, the stranger has quick reflexes and quickly leans forward to catch your fall. “Whoa! Easy there!” he exclaims as he sets you upright, doing his best to avoid the misty spray of the hose still clutched in your hand. That is when you notice his distinct white hair swaying in front of his blue eyes. And his face…if it was not for the slight fuzz of a beard or the care-free expression, he would be the spitting image of Vergil. Which can only mean…

“You must be Dante.”

“What gave it away?” he asks, dramatically holding his hands out to the side as he nods his head in confirmation.

“You wouldn’t be a Son of Sparda if you didn’t scare your local gardener to death!”

Dante tilts head at your answer and smirks as he examines you from head to toe. “I dig the overalls,” he comments as he gestures to your attire. You look down at your green gardening overalls, the phrase "I like big buds and I cannot lie" imprinted on the front surrounded by large colorful flower buds.

“Thanks!” you laugh, turning off the garden hose. “I’m Y/N! I don’t recall Vergil saying that he was going to finally introduce me to you.”

“So, he’s told you about me? Did he mention that I am the better-looking twin?” he jests as he takes a step back and strikes a charmingly rugged pose.

“Uh, he mentioned that you are a demon hunter, a foolish buffoon, and…whoa!” Your eyebrows shoot up as you closely examine his coat. “Your jacket does look really expensive!”

Dante rolls his eyes as he relaxes from his over-the-top stance. “He just can’t let that go, huh?” He shakes his head and lightly chuckles.

“So…what brings you to my garden?” you inquire kindly, not letting his surprise visit distract you from being hospitable. Dante did not mention his brother being present here with him, so you hope that Vergil does not mind you being friendly and helping his brother out if he needs it.

“The girls keep telling me I need something to brighten up the shop,” he explains as he scratches the back of his head. “So, I figured some flowers from my brother’s friendly neighbor florist might do the trick.”

You smile sweetly. “Okay! Do you have any kind of flowers in mind?”

“Well, my mother’s favorite flowers were-”

“Burgundy roses!”

Dante quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just read my mind?”

A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Vergil told me that his mother had a modest garden herself, and that she grew those roses a lot. Don’t worry,” you affirm as your hand sets down the garden hose. A big confident smile spreads across your face as you twirl in excitement, pausing to strike your own cute pose. “I got you covered!”

He nods his head in approval. “Right on.”

You make small talk with Dante as you lead him to the rose section of your garden, asking if by “the girls” he means the other two demon hunters that work with him. He confirms your guess and grumbles about how unfair it is that you know so much the crew while he knows next to nothing about you. That is quickly remedied though as he bombards you with the oddest series of questions…most of them involving strawberries and pizza. When you tell him that you used to work at the local pizzeria and bakery in your home town he enthusiastically asks if you made the pizzas. You laugh at his boyish glee and inform him that you sometimes helped with the pizzas, but you mostly baked the pastries and desserts.

“Here we are!” You point to a bush full of the dark reddish-purple roses as you step through the various buds and blooms. “Roses of unconscious beauty!” Dante studies the rose bush as you approach it, lean in, and inhale their lovely fragrance. You breathe out in delight and start looking for the best blooms for a bouquet. “Aren’t they lovely?” You look over your shoulder and see that Dante is barely paying attention. His blue green eyes gaze distantly at the rose bush, reminding you a little of Vergil’s silver blue eyes when he recedes into his head. You wait a moment before deciding to coax him out of pensive stupor.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Dante blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry about that. I was just…remembering something.” He walks over and stands next you, a small grin appears on his face as he peers down at you. “These would look nice on my desk. I’ll take ‘em.”

“Alright!” You reach into your pocket, taking out the pruning shears still stored in there and begin snipping some select roses, carefully removing the thorns before sticking them in another pocket until you can properly tie them together.

Dante quietly watches you for a few moments before he crosses his arms and leisurely leans back. “So…you and my brother.”

You snip a third rose as you glance over at him. “Me and your brother…?” you repeat, hoping he will expand upon the conversation he started. Dante just continues to gaze at you inquisitively. Your brow furrows in puzzlement as you wonder what he is trying to imply…until it suddenly hits you.

No way. He can’t be…

“Are you…Dad-terogating me?”

“Am I what now?”

“You know…that thing fathers do when daughters bring home their boyfriends.” Your voice drops as you do your best impersonation a stern father figure. “What are your intentions little girl?”

“Oh man,” Dante snickers. “And what if I am?” he counters with a puckish smirk.

“Well, Mr. Sparda,” you begin with a cheeky grin, turning to him while you clutch a thornless burgundy rose close to your chest. “I only have the best intentions towards your brother, Vergil. They include smiles, laughter, and a healthy dose of poetry with dash of tea…Oh!” You dip your hand into the front pocket of your overalls. “And lots of flower showers!” Your grin turns cheerful as you toss pink hydrangea petals high into the air.

Dante stares at you closely for a moment, totally unfazed by the petals scattering around him before he chuckles softly. “Well now…how can I argue with that? My party pooper of a brother needs it.”

You giggle and go back to snipping more roses. A fourth one is freed and you begin to remove the thorns from the stem. “It’s sweet of you to look out for him, you know,” you point out with a genuine smile. “You’re a good brother, Dante.”

He smiles back and is about to respond when an awful hellish screech fills the air. Your head snaps over to the direction it is coming from, but you already know what those sounds mean. Dante casually looks over as well, but he does not look as concerned as you. His face reminds you more of the neighborhood kids when the ice cream truck drives by. “Looks like our flower pickin’ is gonna have to wait,” he surmises as he struts briskly towards the commotion.

You pocket the pruning shears and the rose in your hand as you hurriedly follow behind him. The screeching is now really loud and as you step into to a clearing you see the familiar forms of demons just beyond the gates of your garden. Even though you live in a city known for its constant hellish attacks, the sight of their malformed bodies never fails to freeze your blood. The closest one, resembling a large corrupted bat, flies over the gate and hovers near one of your apple trees. It shrieks as its throat starts to glow red. Anger floods through your body when you register what it intends to do to your lovely fruit trees.

“Oh, no you DON’T!” you shout as you run by the gardening tools still laying out, grabbing the garden hoe as you pass by and rush towards the bat-like creature. It swivels around just as you draw your makeshift weapon back and swing up at it with all your strength. The hoe connects and a pained squeal rings out as the demon is knocked back a little bit away from the apple tree. You let out a shuddering breath, quickly realizing that perhaps smacking a demon with a gardening tool was not the best idea.

Multiple gunshots startle you out of your internal dread as they streak up at the bat-like demon. It shakes violently before it drops to the ground and disintegrates. You turn around and see Dante holstering two guns behind his back before giving you a round of applause. “Not bad! Very inventive use of…” his hands pause as he inspects your tool curiously.

“It’s a hoe,” you bluntly inform him.

“Really?” Dante puts his hands on his hips as he circles around you, shielding you from the oncoming demons notice. “Well then…you really know how to handle a hoe!”

You snort and check your tool for any signs of it being broken or bent. “You know what they say…a dirty hoe is a happy hoe!” you joke, flashing him the disgusting bloody residue on the tip. Dante hunches over as a hearty laugh burst from his lips. You feel a sense of accomplishment at making such a clever gardening pun, but it is short lived as a series of terrible growls and roars remind you of the current danger. “Umm,” you mutter softly, “as much as I would like to give more demons a good hoeing…”

Dante reigns in his boisterous laughter and nods. “Yeah...get yourself to safety.” He runs and skillfully jumps over the gate. Before he goes to deal with the demons, he looks over his shoulder at you. “Even though I’m not a hoe I can still get rid of these nasty weeds,” he quips with a wink.

You laugh and shake your head at his own gardening pun before retreating back to your house, sighing in relief as your backdoor comes into view. When you are a few feet away from safety, a low rumbling growl reaches your ears, making you stop in your tracks. You still have your garden hoe, so you hold it up in defense as you scan your surroundings for any immediate threat. It is quiet for a moment…then a series obscure red streaks zoom around you. Your eyes try to track whatever is circling you, but you cannot see what is stalking you like prey.

Your body is quaking now as you turn around to glance behind you. A lizard-like demon with a vicious red blade protruding from one of its scaly arms is leaping through the air straight at you. Your instincts kick in and you raise your gardening tool up in defense, even though you feel certain that it will not enough to block that sharp blade. A series of tumultuous emotions sling around your mind, but one strongly overtakes you as the image of Vergil pops into your head…regret.

I didn’t even get to tell him that-

Before you are able to close your eyes and brace yourself for the deadly impact, a sudden blur of blue spheres pop up and knock back your scaly assailant. A familiar form clad in a blue coat suddenly appears next to the demon and proceeds to hit it with a series of slashes. When he finishes his ruthless onslaught, he turns his back on the demon and dramatically sheaths his sword. Just as the hilt of the sword slams into the case, the demon convulses in pain one last time before collapsing on the ground.

The regret you felt earlier fades away as your devilish rescuer turns towards you. The usual scowl on his face is now even more severe as he scrutinizes your appearance. He may be fuming with rage, but you do not mind, nor do you care. “Vergil!” you cry, trying to thank him for saving your life, but you feel so overwhelmed that no words come out. All you can do is smile gratefully as your eyes well up with tears, so happy that you get to see the man you feel so deeply for again after all.

Read Part 6 (Ch. 2) here

Read on my Ao3

My Master List if you want more ❤

Tagging: @drusoona, @thedyingmoon, @bettybattaglia, @veenus-ow, @meowykittenn, @fandomhell97, @vergilsangel, @venomous-lawyer, @alicewinchester

#vergil x reader #vergil #devil may cry #dmc 5 #romance #fluff #flowers #the language of flowers #gardener reader #writing #fanfiction #humor #meeting the family #hijinks and shenanigans #wingman dante #A Rose of Unconscious Beauty #a rose among the briars #and just like that a legendary wingman is born #harlot writes

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samspriteart · 4 years

Text

Brief 3: Adaptation Idea 2 DMC Devil May Cry

This adaptation idea is a bit different I will be adapting the story of the game DMC Devil May Cry (which I’m now going to just call DMC to make things easier) but the thing is the story of DMC is not that good so not only am I going to adapt the and change the story but also improve on the story in general.

The story, in short, is about Dante a rebellious youth that has these strange superhuman abilities and has no memories of his past and is constantly being pulled into a world called limbo where these demons try to kill him, however, one day he meets a girl called Kat who aids him in fighting another demon that tries to kill him and gets him out of limbo. She then takes him to a terrorist group shes a member of which turns out to be a resistance group going against the demon king Mundus who controls the world through the media and dept.

The leader of the resistance is revelled to be Dantes twin brother Vergil who tells Dante of his past, he and his brother are the children of a demon farther and angle mother making them hybrids known as Nephilim. Mundus was angered by this and killed their mother and banished their father, luckily both boys were hidden with only Dante being suspected as the only child, Vergil being unknown.

Dante then joins forces with Vergil and Kat killing all of Mundus’s generals and then Mundus himself freeing the world but then in a twist of fate Vergil reveals he and Dante will now take Mundus’s place as the rulers over humans, Dante refuses which causes the brothers to fight with Dante the victor deeming the humans are now under his protection with Vergil being left alive to fight another day.

Now you are probably wondering how the plot of DMC is bad and how I will try and improve on it. The main overarching story is not bad it's, in fact, the inbetweens and how the story is told, what I mean by this is, for example, the character Dante at the start of the story he is very unlikable being rude and annoying most of the time with his change in the story being his want to protect humanity which spawns from his interaction with Kat who does not do much in the story and the two don't have enough meaningful interactions to make this change feel natural except for the one point where they tell each of their troubled past growing up another example is the fight between Dante and Vergil. This fight is presented as a very intense, not knowing if Dante will be able to defeat his brother except this is spoiled from the fact that Dante is shown throughout the entire story to be the stronger brother by the fact that he saves Vergil multiple times and Vergil himself saying that. These are just two examples and the overall dialogue of the game being not good ether sporting lines such as "Son of Sparda <...> You have been found. You are dead, just like your whore mother." "Whore mother? I don't know my mother but if you're calling me a son of a bitch - you wouldn't be the first."

So how would I change things? well since I don't know if I will be adapting this story yet I will only say a few, To start I would make it so that Kat is more useful, in the main story she is a psychic or medium which is the reason why she can interact with Dante in limbo and create portals to get him in or out of limbo, to make her more useful I would make it so she has more abilities that can aid Dante such as lifting small rocks with her mind so that Dante can use them to traverse limbo easier or throw them at enemies during combat to distract them or maybe even some mild healing capabilities to heal Dante after combat this would allow Kat to interact with him more which would help make their relationship grow more naturally and make Dante appreciate humans more.

The next thing I would change is Vergil making him the stronger brother with him hiding this fact and only revealing this at the end when they fight and to hint at this fact throughout the story can be done easily through the in-game enemy called the Dreamrunner which is a sword wilding humanoid enemy that wears a mask and fights Dante one on one throughout the story getting stronger and stronger each time they fight, this enemy could be changed to be Vergil in disguise testing Dante to see if he is worthy of ruling over the humans with him, it also helps that this enemy fights as Vergil does being very fast and countering Dantes attacks.

These are just some of the changes I would do to the story so if I do end up picking this to adapt it will be quite a daunting task.

#AX2001: Brief 3

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shianhygge-imagines · 5 years

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Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The New Contract

AN: Leaving this here while I fly to Hong Kong. Haven’t been satisfied with the chapter that was supposed to come out before this... so I’m posting this one up first. Finally, we are getting into the events of DMC 5. And I’m tempted to label this as a V/Reader fic as well...

|Masterlist Link| |First Chapter| |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed beneath you seemed to swallow you in its comforting embrace as you lay in the darkness of your bedroom in Devil May Cry. The electricity, gas, water, phone, and internet were out again. Try as you might to keep up with the payments, having picked up a job outside of hunting down demons, it proved futile when you were the only one bringing in money. Dante tried his best to provide for the both of you, but he more often than not refused the payments from his clients. Your brother-in-law had a heart of gold, but sometimes he was a bit much.

You’d just sent a payment to Morrison for the gas and water, so hopefully the two of you should be able to have a nice shower and home cooked meal for once. You only made a few thousand a month from your job as a secretary, so a majority of it went to certain necessary utilities, rent, and groceries. The rest went into your personal savings in the hopes that you would be able to spend on family in the future. And by family, you meant a possible grandchild from Nero and Kyrie. You’d long given up on having your own child when Vergil decided to stay in the Underworld.

You could hear the sound of the front doors opening downstairs, though you ignored the noise and turned onto your side to stare at the picture of your husband resting on your bedside table. It was a profile shot of him reading in a library that you had secretly taken. Though now that you thought about it, Vergil probably had noticed and wanted to humor you. A faint smile grew on your face as you thought back to the days before he had been so consumed with gaining power. Despite his betrayal, you missed him. You tried not to think about him most days, but thinking or not thinking, your heart hurt regardless. All you wanted was for Vergil to come back to you.

All you had left of your husband were memories so old that you struggled at times to remember them clearly, pictures, Totsuka, the Silver Rose, your wedding ring, and Nero, who was stuck in a coma in Fortuna because some asshole chopped off his arm to take the Yamato. You’d gotten off the phone with Kyrie a while ago, with no new regarding Nero’s condition. And that was why you were in bed, brooding. Your son was in the hospital and your boss hadn’t allowed you to take the week off to visit Nero in Fortuna.

“Should probably quit that job soon.” You muttered, thinking about how much of an asshole your boss was.

The lights flashed on as the power suddenly kicked in, and you gave out a high whine of protest, ducking your head under the covers. “IT BURNS!”

Evidently, you were loud enough for Dante and Morrison to hear you from downstairs, as your brother-in-law called up the stairs, “Y/N! Come down and say hi!”

The phone was ringing incessantly in the background, and it was driving you nuts. “I’LL COME DOWN AFTER YOU PICK UP THAT DAMNED PHONE!”

You could only grumble when the two men laughed at your expense. The phone stopped ringing a few moments later, and you kept your word, sliding out of bed to put on the pair of jeans you’d discarded on your desk chair, some boots, and a long cardigan to cover up your camisole. You didn’t want to go down half naked, you had some pride that you needed to keep. Happy with your appearance, you finally found it within your to head down the stairs, where Morrison no doubt had a job for you and Dante.

“Huh. I guess I was too slow.” You muttered, taking in the sight of the room below. “Did Morrison leave already?” The question was aimed at Dante, though your eyes traveled to observe the stranger in black standing in the foyer.

“Yeah, he went to find Lady and Trish. V here,” Dante gestured to the stranger with a nod of his head, “said that we’ll have to stop a powerful demon from resurrecting.”

The stranger, V, had yet to turn and look at you, so you quickly made your way down the stairs to stand by Dante, turning to get a good look at your new client. The first words that came to you head at seeing V were ‘frail’ and ‘mysterious,’ though something within you seemed drawn to him. That strange feeling kept telling you to hold him, to never let him go, and it cause your brows to furrow, troubled. “V, huh?”

V angled his head to look at you with green eyes as he gave a brief smirk, “You can call me that, yes. And you must be the fabled Y/N that I’ve heard about as well. A pleasure.”

Raising a brow, you turned to look at Dante in question. “People know about me? I thought the usually ladies were Lady and Trish.”

Dante shrugged from his position on the couch. “Eh, you might have gained a few fans while running some jobs here and there. I don’t keep track of the gossip.”

“O-okay then. So, V,” you redirected the attention back towards the dark haired male in front of you, “When do we leave for this job?”

“If it is not too inconvenient, as soon as possible. Urizen has yet to show himself, but I’d like to act before he grows too powerful.” V informed, his eyes shifting occasionally to avoid yours.

“Urizen?” You questioned, crossing your arms as you shivered from the memories that the name brought to you, “You mean like in the William Blake mythology?”

There was a smirk on V’s face that bordered on affectionate as he lifted a familiar looking book, “It is not the demon’s true name, but a name should be given when referring to him. Are you familiar with Blake’s work?”

A bittersweet smile came to your lips, and you suddenly felt sad. “I am. My husband loved Blake’s work, and actually owned a copy of that same volume in your hands.”

“Husband?” V questioned with a tilt of his head, leaning on his cane as he stepped forward to face you better. “He sounds well-read, and lucky to have a wife that pays attention to his passion. Does he work as a demon hunter as well?”

Dante tensed as you visibly winced from the inquiry. It seemed that Dante was about to rebuff V until you spoke up, a slight wobble to your voice. “No, he… disappeared more than fifteen years ago.”

V frowned at your distress, looking mournful at your pain. “An absent lover. I’m sorry. You must miss him.”

You took a deep breath and quickly excused yourself. “I do… I’m sorry, V. I have to go… take care of something. It was nice meeting you.”

“I hope we can speak again, Y/N.” V called out to you, pivoting in place with an apologetic sadness to his eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“We’ll speak again, V.” You offered weakly, quickly scurrying up the stairs to your room as your sadness threatened to choke you.

You could hear Dante start to reprimand V, but you quickly closed your room door and sank to the floor, grabbing a picture of Vergil as you fell. From the photo, Vergil peered up at you with warm blue eyes in one of the few shots you managed to get of him smiling. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you slumped over the picture, smiling despite yourself.

“It’s been too long, Vergil. I miss you so much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

#shianhygge #shian imagines #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #vergil #v #dmc v #v dmc #v dmc5 #v x reader #dmc v x reader #kinda #dante #dante sparda #devil may cry #devil may cry imagines #Devil may cry 5 #dmc #dmc5

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a-silent-butterfly · 5 years

Note

Hey! I love your writing so much! May I request a headcanon for V, Vergil and Dante with their S/O taking care of them when they are drunk.

Hey~! And thank you! This is gonna be long, so under the cut it goes!

Dante

Ohhhhh, boy. Taking care of a drunk Dante, huh? You’d better be prepared to deal with each of his different drunk styles.

The first style: A complete romantic. He’s always either flirting with you or telling you how much he loves you/how beautiful you are.

How you deal with it: By just being as you are when he does those things when sober. All this drunk dork wants is to see that smile, laugh, blush, or whatever it is.

The second style: He’s all over the place yelling “SWORD-TRICK-SWORD-TRICK” like a little kid on a sugar rush.

How you deal with it: How do you deal with this??? And put Yamato away, Vergil!

The third style: his regrets surface and how much does depends on how drunk he is.

How you deal with it: By listening to him, of course, and assuring him endlessly that he did what he could to attempt to save Vergil, that he was only a child that flaming night when Eva died, and that he will find the right time to tell Nero of his heritage (spoilers: he didn’t and it was the worst time).

Sparda save you if all styles occur.

The morning after, Dante wakes up before you and is quick to recall last night’s events. He only smiles softly as he gazes at your sleeping face and pushes back a strand of hair in your face as you sleep, apologizing for causing you quite the trouble.

Vergil

If the son is a deadweight, then the father is a light(-)weight. Sure, he’ll drink a glass of wine or some other alcoholic beverage thought to be fancy, but anything regarded un-fancy or any more than at best three glasses of the fancy stuff? *Anxious laughing*

Vergil is two types of drunks. The sad drunk and the denying drunk combined.

At first, you don’t really notice if he’s drunk because he seems like his usual, stoic self. That is, until he says something.

“Why is someone like you with me?”

You’re just so taken aback by this that you merely respond a flat, “What.”

Then he continues on with questions related to that regardless of your answers and the scariest thing about it all is that he’s slowly starting to sound like he’s on the verge(l) of tears.

If he actually reaches the breaking point of finally crying, he starts going on and on about how he doesn’t deserve you while you rub/pat his back in comfort, perhaps a little amused, but certainly touched.

Dante, put that camera away.

And then the subject flips to him beating himself up over his powerlessness to save Eva (but this only happens at a certain level of drunk similar to Dante).

All you can do is tell him he was only a child; it’s not his fault.

“We will not be discussing last night’s events,” firmly says Vergil the next morning with his back turned when you wake up, refusing to show his hidden embarrassed expression.

Strangely enough, despite being Lightweight’s human half, he can take on alcohol better than him???

Anyways, prepare to hear William Blake love poems all night long!

And when he runs out, he’ll be telling love poems by other poets, claiming them to be by William Blake even though you’re pretty sure they are not.

Words in some of his sentences are suddenly replaced with the archaic forms. Sometimes even ones he just made up.

It’s all sweet and amusing to you as you listen.

When the poems have reached their end, the mood is suddenly serious as you see a sad smile appear on his face.

“I wonder, would you love me still as him?” he’d muse to himself in his drunkenness.

“What are you saying?” you’d question him with confused and curious eyes.

“… Nothing,” V would respond, kissing you after.

The following morning, when you awaken, you’re greeted with his voice, asking if you enjoyed the conveyances of his love through all those poems with that devilish smirk of his.

#I am just all over the place in this and that's how you can tell I really enjoyed writing this #lmao #devil may cry #devil may cry headcanons #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #v x reader #headcanons

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t-citurnity-moved · 4 years

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That last musing gives off SUCH post D//M//C1 vibes.

PORHAPS. It could even give AU ideas, hohohoho.

Like, Idk an AU where Dante isn’t quite strong enough to take on Nelo Angelo, even with ~m a g i c a l b o y~ Caine. They’re so tired, about to fall over, but they give it their all and it turns out their all isn’t ENOUGH.

But Caine, with all the magic he has left, shatters the helmet (aiming for the head to end this shit, ofc) Nelo Angelo has on and it’s just... revealed to be Vergil.

Dante and Caine just... look at each other. Dante looks so exhausted and utterly broken by this knowledge. And he’s frozen, for once in his life he’s frozen in shock.

But that doesn’t mean their enemy is relenting. The (almost) headshot might’ve thrown him off guard, but that doesn’t mean the fight is over yet. They try to take him on, but Dante’s so shaken he can’t really fight properly. It eventually gets to the point where Caine has to take this one on his own.

And he’s tired. And he’s out of magic. And he’s human. And he tries his best to wield Force Edge, but it’s heavy and he’s not nearly as strong as Dante. (There’s also the fact that he can’t wield it for long before its power gets unbearable and, naturally, he has to let it go to fight his own way, or else he’ll end up just like Arkham.)

But then he gets an idea: Force Edge is a Devil Arm. Force Edge technically gives off demonic energy. His magic uses demonic energy. It’s harder to collect magic from something that’s not living, but not impossible. But even then, it’s not enough.

And Nelo Angelo is honourable. He’s Vergil, after all. Does the phrase “defeating you like this has no meaning” ring a bell? He can’t speak, being corrupted like he is, but he’s honourable enough to allow them to rest from the constant onslaught they’ve been under from demons and him alike.

And they do. They do and when they meet him for the last time, Caine has been hatching a plan. He’s got the magic from a mixture of Force Edge and the demons they’ve encountered up to that point. He’s memorised the spell by the time they encounter Nelo Angelo again.

This time there’s no holding back.

They’re in the heat of battle, with Caine off to the sidelines - the one time since they’ve become friends that Dante is cold to him, “stay out of the way.”

And for once, Caine listens. For once, he allows Dante to handle the hard work, because he’s got something cooking.

Damnit, if it kills him, he’s gonna get Dante his brother back.

He’s waiting for the right moment and when it happens-

There’s a brilliant flash of light and a strangled, echoed cry.

It fades. Dante removes his hand from his eyes. Caine takes a knee, not by choice, but because he’s so tired. And for a second, he thinks his spell didn’t work until-

Nelo Angelo’s armour cracks. It cracks and crumbles and turns to dust and like that-

Suddenly it’s Vergil. And it’s Dante, freezing for just a minute before he rushes forward to catch Vergil when he collapses. And it’s Caine barely dragging himself to his feet to catch them both when Dante collapses because he’s tired and too emotional.

And they’re quiet. Vergil is only half-conscious, but if he had something witty to say, he would’ve. Dante can’t even muster a single word, but his shoulders shake as he cries.

The rest of the time is Caine is nursing Vergil back to health while Dante and Trish defeat Mundus. Mallet Island is collapsing and Caine is panicking, because what if Dante and Trish don’t make it back alive? What if he can’t protect Vergil? He did this, but if he can’t keep Vergil alive then what was the point?

But Dante and Trish do manage to win and it’s like a breath of fresh air when they finally escape.

And it takes some time and Vergil is stubborn as a mule, but he does warm up to the idea to working with them, to being able to restore his relationship with his brother, to becoming allies with a woman who looks like his mother.

And eventually, yes, come to address the strange feelings he has for a human who managed to not only defeat him once, but save him from a personal hell he was subjected to. Though he may not understand his reasoning, he will come to accept it in time.

But one thought will stick in the back of his mind and when it’s late one night and he can’t sleep, he’ll go downstairs to sit on the couch because he’d rather be anywhere but his room.

And when Caine comes downstairs from his room, he’ll look up at him and hide his concern, especially when Caine plops down next to him and calmly asks, “what’re you doing up?” What is he doing up?

And Vergil will remain quiet for a few moments. Before the silence gets deafening and he’ll have to say something. But what he says isn’t what Caine nor he expects.

“... Have you ever been to Fortuna?” And he tells him the story of his time there, of how he isn’t quite sure if he’s ready to be a father. He’s vulnerable, allowing his insecurities to peek through.

Of course, Caine will get mad and Vergil thinks he’s going to the kitchen for a drink (because why wouldn’t he?), but to his surprise, Caine starts putting on his boots and grabbing his jacket.

“... Where are you going?”

“We are going to get your kid.”

He’ll refuse at first. But he’ll come to be thankful that Caine is his voice of reason when he wakes one morning to Nero, probably having had a nightmare, curled up between himself and Caine, who is sleeping peacefully for once in his entire goddamn life.

And that’s when he finally accepts it. He’s in love and has been too stupid to notice.

And he’ll feel that every time Nero comes running into the kitchen with some kind of menial injury, crying. “Papa!” this and “I hurt myself!” that. Vergil won’t know what to do and Caine will roll his eyes and scoop Nero up, tending to his wound. And Nero will smile and run off to play again, shouting “thanks pa!” over his shoulder. Vergil will wonder if he heard that correctly, first, and then wonder if Caine heard it as well, second.

Or when Caine is going off to Dante about having taught Nero something he shouldn’t have.

Because “He’s 10, Dante,” Caine will say and Dante will huff and roll his eyes, “I was holding a sword by the time I was 6! Me and Vergil both, ask him.”

And Vergil’s heart will speed up when Caine says, “my son“ and he won’t catch the rest of what Caine had to say until later, when Caine is complaining to him about Dante’s stupidity. And Caine will say “our son,” and Vergil will fight the smile that twinges on his lips. Because that’s the first time Caine’s said it and he probably doesn’t even notice it.

And it’ll click in Vergil’s mind again - oh yeah, he’s in love alright. And he doesn’t know what the hell to do about it - despite the fact they’ve been subtly courting each other since they met.

(And not only that, they’re even sleeping in the same bed, damnit! Even Nero thinks Caine is is dad already, he calls him “pa!” And Vergil supposes he’ll have to accept that as fact; should anyone ask in the future, he’ll tell them Nero is Caine’s son with only minor hesitation, though it’ll take more for him to admit that Caine is his husband. Even after they’ve decided that fact on their own.)

#long post #self insert (dmc)#ship (demonic instinct)#ship bs #i need a name for this au....#au (send me an angel)#???? i suppose that'll do #ALSO HEY LOOK I GOT AN IDEA #AND IT JUST GO WAAAAYYYY TOO OUT OF HAND #literally don't read this its so stupid and long #i guess its okay to interact with???? shrug emoji #its literally just a buncha thoughts i had and compiled as i was writing them #why yes #i did spend an hour writing this #and i am not sorry in the slightest

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blooddrop-palace · 4 years

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Open Doors [1/2]

[Alternate tagline: Sera, that’s probably not a safe idea, but you did it anyway.]

Here’s another set of snippets of things bouncing in my head all day while I was at work. Except when things involve Vergil, it looks like I can’t keep it simple. This became longer than I thought. Guess this is part 1 of 2.

—

“I don’t care if you just like to do charity demon-slaying or whatever it is you’re here for, but it’s rude to leave in the middle of someone talking to you! And we need to talk!”

He knew he could easily out-maneuver the human woman, but it was at risk of her witnessing the clearly inhuman skills he possessed. However, the plan wouldn’t change from the last two times: he needs to run just far enough out of sight, find a safe target zone, and teleport away.

But really, the situation would have been better if that blasted female knight was never in the vincinity to witness him dispatch a small hoard of stalking demons to begin with.

—

“You have me very vexed, good sir.”

“And you, I. What will it take for you to leave me in peace?” He ground out in response, clearly irked at the knight who had climbed three stories up to the balcony that he thought was safely out of her reach and out of her view. She somehow knew other ways up here that he didn’t immediately see at first.

“You want me to leave you in peace? Did you know that word has gotten around about a foreigner in the city limits who has a peculiar demeanor about him? Doesn’t look or act like a tourist. Asks about history as if he’s hunting for something. And...” She paused to pull herself over the railing, catching her breath briefly. He noticed clever wire spools and snap hooks at her belt, no doubt tools that helped her climb. “And he doesn’t blend in by being overly concealed, and there is no record of someone matching his description having checked in to any of the few existing inns in this isolated island-city... leaving up to all sorts of imagination and gossip of where he could be camping out at—”

“It sounds like you have more pressing matters to tend to, then. I’ll leave you to that...”

“Oh, no you don’t! You’re not going to play the fool with me!” She cut him off, and then cut to the chase with a frustrated sigh: “Ugh, look, sir, this isn’t what you think. I’m hoping to not have to chase you down because the Order asked for your arrest or something. In fact, this wasn’t my original intention. By this point, it’s the fact that you have evaded me the first time, and then yet again a second time, when I had wanted to thank you properly for both occasions of...” She waved her hand in a nonchalant gesture in the air, “saving me the trouble of having to call for backup against demon ambushes in backroads that clearly needed more patrols—”

That wasn’t the case; the roads probably had enough patrols in the past. It was his presence that drew the demons to break their usual patterns. But she didn’t need to know that so he wasn’t going to tell.

The knight’s words dissolved into grumbling as she buried her face into her hands, trying to wrap up her explanation.

He was hoping if she got whatever damn idea of gratitude out of her head, she’d leave him alone from then on. So he lingered while mentally vowing to double check for anyone else’s presence from now on, before “accidentally” helping anyone fight off demons, again.

“This got more complicated than it needed to be.” She finally looked up from her hands and scrutinized what she could observe of him under his cloak. Not that the coverage mattered anymore. He knew she saw him without it in a fight already. “I got carried away; upset, even... because how did you manage to scale up places like this better than I could? I used to make sport of evading the knights by scaling the walls and such before I managed into the Order myself. And now someone is going to beat me at my own game?” She huffed, adjusted her stance to be more relaxed, and raised a brow at him.

“...Get to the point, so that we can leave each other be.” He was not going to show amusement at her sense of competition. What was human competition going to matter for him?

The knight took a deep breath, palms pressed together and fingertips at her lips as she carefully thought about what she was going to say next: “You either need to leave the island soon before the day comes that the entire Order tries to force you out, or you be a little less mysterious and stop allowing all these restless rumors about you float around. So give me as simple of an answer as you wish, so long as it’s an answer. What are you here for?”

“Why would what the masses think about a stranger matter to you?”

“Personal history and boredom.” She immediately answered with deadpan seriousness. “And the answer for my question?”

He thought briefly before slowly responding: “Research.”

“Okay. Nothing you need to hurt anyone for, would you?”

“I’m not going to stand here and be interrogated.” He turned to leave.

“Humor me. I’ll tell you right now that the worst case scenario is me leaving you alone with no more questions and no more games of tag. But depending on your answers, I might be willing help you stop being the hottest gossip topic of the entire city.”

He hated having to weigh his options on what was clearly a bargaining attempt from a human being. But this island that might contain answers to his quest for power was proving inconvenient with how xenophobic they were. With the slow rate his research was going, it would be...more than just mildly inconvenient if the city became too restless at his presence.

“Very well. I’ll... humor you. And to answer your second question, it would be counterproductive to cause a scene by means of assault.” He wasn’t making promises, though.

Thankfully, she didn’t ask for one on that.

“Let’s get down from this balcony first, before someone spots us.”

—

“Demon Hunter?”

“When I need the money.”

“On the road a lot?”

“...I don’t plan to stay longer than I need to, if that answers your question.”

“Name?”

“At the moment, we will remain as strangers.”

A sigh.

“Okay. I’ll accept that. Last question. Need a place to stay?”

Pause.

—

“I have questions for you.”

“I admit it’s only fair.”

“Why the offer?”

“I have extra night patrols because of your presence. People don’t like things that go bump in the night, which, to many, includes strangers.”

...?

“Wouldn’t your problem be solved by reporting my presence as non-threatening? That would seem like an easier solution to me.”

“I know protocol. Protocol would demand suspicious foreigners that apparently sleep in unknown places of the city be brought in. Stop holding the rest of your cloak so close to you. That fancy getup you have underneath isn’t as much of a problem as you think. You’re too cagey, and that’s what’s making you stand out. Just keep the hood on and relax. If someone’s asks about that sword, I have working answers.”

“Hmm. Protocol, you say? Is this place to stay going to be a jail cell, then?”

Yet, at the moment, they stood in front of an apartment door, and she was inserting a key.

“You? In a jail cell? I watched you slay demons like they were made of paper. Not only would a jail cell not contain you, but I’d have to get you into one, first. You tell me if that’s going to happen.”

As she opened the door to her apartment, he graced her with a brief chuckle.

“No. But I have more to ask. What deal are you meaning to strike up from this? I’d be a fool to think you are offering me help without ulterior motive.”

“Motive? I love my home city but I don’t love its hostile attitude towards strangers. My father wasn’t from this place. Causes me some grief. But I know you don’t care about that and I don’t need to share.”

“...I don’t need your charity.”

“Not charity. Gratitude and mutual benefit. Here’s the deal: I have a lot of thoughts on how foreigners at least deserve respect. You respect me, and I respect you. Sound acceptable?”

“I understand you mean to say that if I slight you, then there is no deal.”

“...and the opposite holds true, smartass. I’m not trying to lord anything over you. But if you want to get your research thing done and leave the city on your own terms, you’re going to need to get as much of Fortuna’s distrust off your back as possible. I’m not asking you to sign a contract. Just mutual agreements.”

“That’s a lot of trouble just to get yourself out of night patrols.”

—

“Good morning. The couch wasn’t too terrible, was it?”

“I’ve slept in worst places.”

“...I should have surmised. You’ve been up reading for a while?”

“Not too long. I believe I’ll be heading out soon to continue my research.”

“All right. I’m sure you’ve seen where the main library is. Tell them you’re Seraphina Valkyrie’s guest, and if there are problems, they can contact me. My story is going to be plain and simple. You’re a friend from mainland whom I came in contact with while I tried to solve the mystery of where my late amnesiac father may have come from. No headway there, by the way. The rest is, as they should know, no one else’s business but mine. Breakfast?”

“Acceptable reasons, and breakfast would be agreeable.”

“Assistance in breakfast would also be agreeable.”

—

“Am I correct in assuming you wish to barter help from me in solving the mystery about your father in return?”

“I actually don’t care. Family’s been dead since I was twelve. That was long enough ago. I got over it.”

“My condolences.”

The topic wasn’t pursued that day. It wouldn’t have been a good dinner table conversation anyway.

—

Five days later, he’s found some leads both into research and into reconnaissance about the Order’s goals.

He’s also found that, by “rules of being a respectable guest,” he somehow allowed himself to be roped into certain chores. Namely with assistance in the kitchen.

She also allowed him the guest bedroom after the first night’s stay.

—

Day seven. He still refused to tell her his name. She took it upon herself to call him something, taking an idea from the re-bound leather cover of his prized possession: the book of William Blake’s poetry collection.

He never corrected her, and now she called him “V”.

#devil may cry #vergil #oc #concept setup #fan writing

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