#Post Devil May Cry 5

[stickynotelovers-art]

Devil May Cry is growing in strength in my brain and I've been desiring to draw the Sparda boys for a bit anyways.

I see some people have Vergil behave in fanfics and fanart as being extremely serious and cold, but I think people easily forget that he's just as much of a silly goober as his brother. He would definitely be an embarrassing Dad just because he thinks Nero's reactions are funny.

Dante and Vergil would both definitely find these shirts hilarious and wear them on lazy days, especially because Nico gifted it to them.

Besides the fact that Nico would buy the shirts for them simply because she thought it was funny, she'd also do it to mess with Nero.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Sweet Serenade: Vergil x G/N Reader

MINORS DNI GO AWAY >:[ SERIOUSLY-- *grabs a broom and sweeps at you* SHOO

SUMMARY: Ever since you met the blue devil you’d loved to listen to him; be it a small noise or a loud shout, you always listened. Tonight, you found yourself home alone with him and begin to hear a different noise; one that you realize you aren’t supposed to be hearing.

BEGINNING NOTES: ♭ Top/Dom Vergil x (implied) Bottom/Sub G/N Reader ♮Unestablished relationship. ♯Everyone else can tell you are into each other. The two of you have gone “out” before; even though that’s not what either of you called it, it is what both of you wanted. ♮You live at the DMC with Dante and Vergil. ♭Smut--Vergil masturbation voyeuristic reader ♮Vergil enjoys the idea of the reader consensually submitting to him (I don’t want it to come across wrong) (The song is a link to a YouTube video of it if you want to listen)

==

     The Devil May Cry was alive and bustling as per usual these days. There was never a dull moment not since the twins�� reunion and return from Hell. Although the happier and more welcoming atmosphere was a nice change of pace, you couldn’t help but miss the peaceful quiet times. Tonight was one of those nights. 

     The last contract was large enough that the whole shop got involved which resulted in an enormous payout. So, the crew decided to go out drinking to celebrate--Most of the crew anyway.

      Nero was hesitant to join, not being one for social outings--like father, like son. However, Nico wasn’t taking no for an answer and was currently shoving Nero--quite literally--out the back door. Lady and Trish had already moved to the garage and were chatting. Then, of course, there were the Sparda twins; Vergil and Dante. The younger sibling had been nagging his brother for over ten minutes.

     “Come on,” Dante playfully poked at Vergil’s shoulder for the umpteenth time tonight, staring at him like a kicked puppy dog, “Pleaseeee--”

     “Dante.” Vergil sighed as he stood up, shutting his book with a loud thump, “For the last time, I am not going to your stupid bar and that’s final.”

     The younger twin pouted slightly and let out an exaggerated exhale, “You’re so boring in your old age, Verge; you gotta learn to live a little,” Dante turned his attention to you and flashed a wide toothy grin, “You’re coming with right?”

     You pursed your lips and shook your head ‘No’.

     The red devil dramatically groaned and slumped forwards.

     You gently patted his back, “Sorry, I'm just too beat to join in.”

     Dante looked up at you and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

     A warm smile tugged at your lips as you ruffled the red devil’s hair, “Maybe next time.”

     “Promise..?” 

     “If that’s what you want, sure.”

     He stood back up fully, a small smile tugging at his lips, “You’d best believe I’m gonna hold you to that, babe~!” He winked at you as he grabbed his coat from the back of the desk chair, sliding it on, “Just don’t go breaking the old man, alright? Kinda need him in the morning for a contract.”

     “Huh-!?” Your eyes widened as you realized what he meant.

     Vergil rolled his eyes and moved to stand beside you, just a few centimeters away from your side, “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear, Dante?” He folded his arms and leaned back a bit.

     “And if it is?” Dante raised a brow at his sibling.

     “Tch,” Vergil’s gaze thinned, “As if they would have such low standards.”

     “Careful there Verge might insult yourself since we are twins.”

     “Perhaps, but we--”

     The sound of Nero shouting and a loud thud caught everyone’s attention--it seems Nero finally gave in, or rather gave out, and fell face-first into the concrete of the garage. Nico stared down at the young man from the doorway before turning to the three of you, a semi-irritated tone to her voice, “We’re gonna leave your old asses if y’all don’t get a move on!”

     Dante sighed and walked towards the door, “Sorry, only one ‘old ass’ is leaving tonight.”

     Nico said something unintelligible as Dante shut the door, leaving Vergil and you alone. 

     The blue devil sighed quietly before addressing you, “I am going to retire for the night,” he moved toward the stairs. Once at the bottom of the stairs, he paused for a moment with parted lips, as if he were going to say something; however, he said nothing, shut his mouth, and ascended the stairs, disappearing into his room. 

     You sighed through your nose. Part of you had hoped Vergil might want to spend some time together, but that was wishful thinking. He’s not the “hanging out” type, even if the two of you spend most of your waking hours together. Deciding to do the same as the blue devil, you turned off the shop’s lights and headed to your room. 

     The floorboards creaked as you entered your cozy abode and flipped on the lights. With a slight bounce, you flopped onto your bed with a loud sigh. Your room was the smallest of the three make-shift bedrooms of the Devil May Cry and shared a wall with a certain blue devil’s room. Through the thin walls, you could hear the faint sound of Schubert’s music from Vergil’s record player. Admittedly, you didn’t care much for classical music but that slowly changed when the eldest twin moved in. His music selection was so different than Dante’s; it was calmer, relaxing, and gentle, all of which were something you found reflected the man’s inner-self--even if Vergil doesn’t seem the temperate type. Tonight’s selection was no different. Currently, the record was playing one of your favorites “Serenade”. 

     A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened to the violins' crescendos and decrescendos; how each phrase changed and grew. You allowed yourself to relax into your bedding as you slowly began to drift off. However, just as you closed your eyes, a small stifled grunt came from the other side of the wall and piqued your curiosity. Then, a growl followed by a visceral groan emanated from the other room. Although you knew it was intruding--and downright voyeuristic--you couldn’t help but get up and set your ear against the shared bedroom wall, listening intently.

==

     Vergil had planned on reading and going to bed when he headed upstairs. Wishing to enjoy the few fleeting moments of peace within the walls of the shop. However, Vergil couldn’t get the teasing remark from Dante out of his head--the idea of Vergil making love with you. 

     As he read the same page over and over, Vergil found his thoughts devolving into more and more sinful ideas. He wondered what sounds you'd make when he ate at your body; what lascivious mewls and whimpers would you make? Would you enjoy it? How would you react to him holding you impossibly close as your bodies are neatly and sensually interwoven, connected together in an act of heated passion and lust? The endless amount of devilish sexual amusement he’d get from spearing your innards and watching you come undone under him. Your loud pleading cries from his overstimulating touch as Vergil plays with you long into the night and morning, not wanting to pass up this rare moment of privacy. 

     Admittedly he wasn't sure if you were into him as much as he is to you; however, that didn't stop the growing heat from spreading throughout his body. With an irritated huff, Vergil shut his book and grumbled to himself. He wasn’t typically one for masturbation and had mostly only partaken of such sinful delights in his youth. 

     Perhaps just one time wouldn’t be too bad, right?

     The blue devil carefully set his book down, still debating if he really was going to do this. However, an overwhelming throbbing in his pants answered the question for him. He bit his lip as he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to indulge such degenerative thoughts; thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. 

     He palmed his hard-on through his jeans, imagining it was your hand instead. The slow sound of his belt being unbuckled, the snap of the button of his fly, the smooth sound of the zipper coming undone; all of this he imagined was your doing. Despite his distaste for such joys of the flesh, he did keep a bottle of lube in his bedside drawer just in case he’d ever need it--and tonight was one of those times. 

     Setting the bottle on the tabletop, he closed his eyes and ghosted his fingertips against his aching tent. A shiver ran up his spine as he released his cock from its fabric confines. He opened his eyes for a split second to grab the bottle of lube and put some in his palm before quickly closing his eyes again; not wanting to break his fantasy. 

     It started slow, almost painfully slow, as he bit his lip. He was fantasizing about the wet feeling from the lube being instead caused by your cute little mouth being wrapped around his cock. A small groan left his lips as he continued to fall further and further into this fictitious scenario. What he wouldn’t give just to fuck your mouth at least once. As he continued, his lack of practice became more and more evident as his hand moved in uneven and unsteady strokes. A sudden intense hot feeling spread throughout his body causing him to grow uncomfortable. He knew exactly what it was; he was losing himself, being much too engrossed in his pathetic devilish desires, practically egging on an accidental Trigger. 

     Quickly, he opened his eyes and shot up from the mattress, tossing his vest off to the side. Using one hand to hold himself up from the mattress, he continued to pleasure himself. His brow twitched as he closed his eyes again. In his mind, he toyed with the idea of you being pinned underneath him; completely submissive and powerless. A small growl came from his throat as he began to lose focus on staying quiet. The sight of you breathless and staring back at him with half-lidded eyes made his cock ache and his mind reeling. 

     Again he began to feel the hot feeling consuming his limbs, he needed to let his skin breathe--he needed to undress more. As he fumbled with the shirt buttons, he leaned upwards. Almost instantly getting frustrated with the small plastic clasps, he ripped his shirt from his body--shredding it--and tossed it off in a random direction. Vergil leaned back over the bedding, his hand that was supporting his weight had balled up the sheets; tearing it with his nails. The blue devil bit his lip again as his pace became even faster, however, this did little to deter the loud carnal snarling that he was making.

     Vergil leaned further forwards, placing his forehead on the, now disheveled bedding. In his mind he was laying his head against yours, enjoying the feeling of your hot skin against his. The feeling of your hands within his hair and your legs wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer and further into your hole. A thin layer of sweat adorned his body and his hair had fallen forwards. A mixture of spit and a small amount of blood was dripping from his lips and onto the bed. His breathing was heavy, uneven, and filled with a disgusting amount of lust; a side of himself that Vergil, not only tries to hide from the outside world but, despises. However, he couldn’t be bothered to think about how unrefined and how feral he probably sounded and looked, the only thoughts to be had were ones about you.

     As he approached his orgasm he began to whimper your name quietly to himself, wishing he had the courage to ask you out and to ask for you to give yourself to him--every bit of yourself to him. He began to rock forwards, bucking his hips into his hand. A greedy possessive feeling filled his heart, he wants to hide you away from the world, to keep you all to himself. A snarl left his lips at the thought of anyone else being able to have you, to take you from him. Vergil didn’t care how insane he sounds or how dangerous that kind of mindset is; he’s had everything taken from him his entire life and he will not allow anyone to take you from him. With each passing moment, he got louder and called your name more and more frantically. 

     When Vergil hit his peak, he leaned upwards and threw his head back. A loud thunderous growl and an almost whimpering moan came from him as his body twitched in ecstasy. Lots of smooth white ropes decorated his bedding as he opened his eyes to stare at the dark room’s ceiling above him, he felt several tears running down his face. Using the thumb of the hand still wrapped around his cock, he played with his tip, sending a jolt through his body; despite finding release, he was still just as worked up as before--perhaps even worse than before. 

     That’s when a set of knocks at his door made him freeze. 

     Was Dante back already? Or what if you had--

     “Vergil?” It was you.

     He panicked; despite not being clean, shoved his cock back into his boxers and jeans. Unable to find his shirt from earlier, he grabbed a random t-shirt from his dresser and slid it on so fast he failed to notice that it was backwards. Using the sweat from his brow, he slicked back his hair in hopes it would stay long enough for him to answer the door. 

     When he opened the door his words were discombobulated as he stumbled through his thoughts, “What?” 

     You said nothing but instead shyly looked away from him, your shoulders tensed up and you pursed your lips. That’s when Vergil noticed.

     The strong unmistakable scent of arousal that was coming from you. You were just as, if not more, horny. Admittedly, he wanted nothing more than to pin you to the ground and take you right then and there; but he found himself hesitant. 

     With a very shy voice, you mumbled to him, “You alright? The record has been skipping for a while now and…” Your voice trailed off, unable to look him in the eye. 

     As he spoke a dark husky sultry tone came from him, a voice you’d never heard him use before, “Oh? Has it now?”

     You nodded, “Yeah, I can hear it from my room…”

     He smirked and turned you to face him, “It is quite invasive to be listening to others, Love.” His eyes met yours, “Especially if you were enjoying yourself to it.”

     Your eyes went wide.

     Vergil chuckled lowly, “I can tell from your heart that you either just ran a mile or were having a good time,” he leaned in closer, “and I can smell it on your hands, Voyeur.”

     A set of sputtering unintelligible noises came from you, your face becoming flushed and Vergil enjoying the sight. 

     He stood back up and turned to face inside the room, “Now, why don’t you come in for a moment? I’ll remove the record after all,” He looked over his shoulder, “I’d much rather listen to your serenade instead.”

==

ENDING NOTES: ♯This has been sitting in my WIPs half-finished for a while so I wanted to finish it up; sorry if the ending is a bit weird, wasn't sure how to end it lmao ♮Fun fact: the beginning part (right up until overhearing Vergil) was the original start to “As You Wish (Part 1)” lol ♭“That Unwanted Animal” By The Amazing Devil really was a good inspiration for this fic. I’d highly recommend giving their music a listen “The Horror and The Wild” is a REALLY good album lol

==

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[vesselsbliss]

Unexpected Gestures

Headcanon: Dante—when he has the funds—will hop pizza parlors. On those rare occasions, he discovers a dish that provides the right type of sensory stimulation. He’ll get a take home order, or two (or ten), of said dish in the largest size available.

Morrison shows up with an influx of jobs. The broker emphasizes the need for a demon hunter, capable of discerning between demonic threats and mere humans in elaborate costumes. Though tempted to refuse, Dante decides to accept the entire list of jobs.

It’s his most productive day this year. Today’s clientele seems more appreciative. In addition to the payouts, the demon slayer receives items usually meant for trick-or-treaters. Bags of candy—including an entire basket of full size candy bars, a Tupperware with pasta, another container with a slice of cake, an entire foil pan with homemade brownies, a dozen sugar cookies, and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Some of the affluent clients provide additional monetary compensation. It’s twilight by the time he gets back. He gets to work stashing the food items. Those close to him were more than welcome to dig in.

Dante summons Cavaliere again. Intending to use the rest of the day for his initial plans. He stops at a small pizza parlor across town; a tan building with a few tables sitting at the front outside. The sign reads “15th Street Pizzeria.” Flickering red and white letters are indicative of the need for repairs. Cavaliere disintegrates. He makes his way to the entrance. Torn black and orange decorations adorn the shattered windows.

“Sparda…” a reverberating growl drips with venom.

With a sigh, he summons the Devil Sword Dante.

“Die blood of Sparda!” It leaps above his head.

He makes short work of his assailant. Blood splatter, fur and viscera litter the surrounding area. The employees and customers are found cornered in the kitchen. Trapped by a muscular bat-like creature, almost as tall as the ceiling. It’s clawed hand reaches for one of the patrons, only for it’s head to be cleaved off.

Dante is lounging in his office chair, feet plopped on the desk, when Morrison pays another visit to Devil May Cry.

“Someone’s been looking for you,” the broker states. “The name “15th Street” ring any bells?”

Assuming it’s another bill for property damage, the question elicits a groan from Dante. Before he can say anything, a middle-aged man wearing black pants and a red t-shirt enters the building. He introduces himself as the owner of 15th Street Pizzeria, rambling about how he spent weeks searching for a tall, white-haired guy with a giant sword.

“You tracked me down because?”

“Well,” the man awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “to say thank you.”

Dante stands up from the couch. This had to be a prank.

The owner voices his appreciation for Dante saving the lives of his employees, the customers, and stopping the demons from destroying his business. He runs outside and returns carrying a couple boxes. After placing them on the desk, the owner mentions that he needs to go back to work. He bids the two men farewell, shaking both of their hands.

Dante carefully opens each box, making note of the toppings in each. Pepperoni. Cheese. Neapolitan. Chicago style deep dish with extra jalapeños, and no olives (courtesy of Morrison). The last one appears looks like a dessert, topped with caramelized pear slices and a white chocolate sauce.

Morrison notices Dante’s focus drift away from the pizza. “What’s the matter? Can’t process a random act of kindness.” He takes a drag of his cigar.

“Nah,” Dante turns to face him. “I just can’t decide where to dig in. That’s all.” He closes the pizza boxes and takes them to the kitchen. All five are placed in the oven at a low temperature, to keep them warm.

“Pizza party tonight then?” Morrison enters the kitchen and notices Dante bringing out paper plates. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 72: Permission

Chapter 72: Permission 

Note: Gah! Sorry for the slightly late upload. It’s an hour after midnight. I just noticed the time. My bad!

(-~-)

For a moment, they just stood there, unspoken words lingering on both of their tongues. Neither of them dared speak for want of savoring this moment in its entirety. From a desire to simply stand in one another’s presence and to be well and truly known. To bask in one another’s radiance. To feel the butterflies flutter in their stomachs in a manner not entirely unlike they had when the two of them had first stood together in that little park all those years ago and realized for the first time that they shared a connection.

So many questions. So many emotions. So much history and so many memories. They felt anchored in place by the simple virtue of the fact that they were both present in this moment; standing in this very spot. Alive. The gravity of this moment rendered every passing second somehow more and less believable the longer they lingered in it. It felt like a dream that they would both wake from at any moment only to just lay there afterward, longing for it to have been real, their eyes stinging from the pain that they held behind them.

Vivienne was alive.

He imagined she felt the same in some measure from seeing him again, but he couldn’t fully process that. Not now. He was too stupified by the fact that he was looking at her again. He’d mourned her loss. The loss of both of them. Of everything the three of them could have been together. Of the freedom and the optimism that came from starting over after everything he’d lost just to lose them both and then himself along the way.

Vergil hardly recognized himself when he’d looked in the mirror after he’d lost her. Nothing about his appearance had changed, but everything on the inside had and he could feel it just as much as he could see it when he looked himself in the eyes. Something in him had left him the day he’d lost her, and he felt some twinge of what it used to be within himself again simply because of the fact that she yet breathed. If she was beyond his touch, so be it. He could ask nothing of her, let alone expect anything from her. But he would bask in her radiance in this moment all the same. Because even if that part of him had well and truly been lost forever and he still felt its wound deep in his very being, he would sleep just that little bit better knowing that she still walked the earth. He hadn’t been there when she needed him the most, and he wasn’t sure he could ever overlook that, let alone forgive himself regardless of who was truly at fault, but he could glean some monochrome of satisfaction that his absence hadn’t led to her untimely demise.

But that aside, it was now time for answers. Answers that he owed to her and the answers to questions he could only yearn for the answers to. 

It was time for closure.

Vergil gazed at her silently for another minute, not wanting to pollute this otherwise pristine moment with words. This was an experience beyond the poultry offerings that vocabulary could provide. But he did need to ask her something. It was only polite, after all. And he’d been more than rude enough as it was.

“I… hope you’ve been… well.” Vergil said softly, looking down at her with a special kind of fondness. Her frizzy red hair was just as lovely as ever. The both of them had aged since they’d last seen one another, just as time would expect of them, but if he was being honest, he actually found her even more beautiful now than he had before.

Despite this, he couldn’t help but notice something as he gazed at her. She just looked so… tired. There was a certain weariness to her demeanor that couldn’t have stemmed solely from the no doubt busy day she’d had moving house. It was subtle but he picked up on it almost immediately. And while he knew nothing of what had transpired since they’d last seen one another, he could only guess that she’d been through entirely too much as a whole.

She didn’t respond, instead just continuing to stare at him in silence, the look in her eyes telling him that her thoughts were both present and a thousand miles away. Understandable enough, all things considered. But it did make him wonder where her thoughts had wandered off to.

“Vivienne… May I have a word?” Vergil said almost tentatively. He knew that she was fully within her rights to refuse him, regardless of how much he’d like her to do the opposite. No amount of effort that they’d put into finding her suddenly made her owe him her time, as anxious as the realization of that reality made him. But he would still respect that choice if it was the one she made.

She seemed to think for a moment, looking away from him and out across her yard, something in her eyes betraying her conflict. Part of her couldn’t believe this was actually happening, and another part wasn’t sure what to think at all. She watched the movers continue to pack the truck up with some of her belongings, thinking. Pondering the merits of the notion. And then she closed her eyes and turned back towards Vergil. Something in her just seemed so unsure. It wasn’t something he was used to.

Was… She alright?

“... Come in.” She spoke those words as though her answer was a given and she was surprised that he’d asked, waiving him gently past her and in the direction of the interior of the now mostly empty house beyond her. The front porch wasn’t the place to have whatever conversation they both knew they needed to have, that much was obvious. They would go inside and they would talk. About what, they didn’t entirely know just yet, but they would most certainly talk. There was plenty of subject matter. 

“I’ll um, stay out here. Privacy and all that. Pretty sure you both need it.”

Her brow furrowed to a noticeable degree as she heard him speak, the red-haired woman stepping forward just a bit so that she could look around Vergil to find the source of the sound. But as soon as she saw Dante she looked visibly alarmed, her breath catching in her chest as she stared at him wordlessly before looking back over at Vergil and then back at Dante, moving only her pupils to facilitate this.

Vergil blanked for a moment. He’d genuinely allowed Dante’s presence to slip his mind during the last few minutes. It wasn’t so much that he’d forgotten that Dante had come there with him. It was more that he’d let it slip his mind that Dante was standing right there. He’d been so overcome by the realization that she was genuinely standing in front of him again that everything else had just been brushed aside. “Vivienne this is… ”

“Your brother… “ She finished breathlessly, staring at Dante with wide, disbelieving eyes as though she’d just seen a mythical creature walk past her house. She hadn’t realized that Vergil had turned up at her home with company. Yes. His brother. That was quite evident just by virtue of the fact that she had working eyes. Anyone could tell that they were related with the slightest glance. “... You’re welcome to join us. It’s chilly out here.”

Dante glanced over at Vergil to see if he could detect the dulcid aura of his brother silently requesting that he go literally anywhere else, but he didn’t detect anything. Vergil simply gave him a barely perceptible nod and turned his full attention back to Vivienne and the death sentence equivalent of a conversation that he knew was in store for him as he silently stalked behind her into the inside of the house.

Admittedly, the last thing that Dante wanted to do in this situation was intrude or hinder the conversation that needed to happen. At the end of the day, this was a conversation that he’d love to hear but didn’t feel he had a right to be a part of unless they both wanted him to be there. He was a part of the history between them by proxy at best, and he knew better than to intrude where he shouldn’t, especially when it came to Vergil’s private matters.

Vergil had been waiting for some semblance of closure from this for two decades. He knew that, but he wasn’t sure that even Vergil himself truly comprehended the gravity of that statement. If he even actually realized that. Something -his entire world- had been wrenched out from under him twice before he’d even reached his twenties, but this one had been different. He’d been born into his family, but the one he had with Vivienne, the one he was supposed to have with Vivienne had been something that he’d created. Something they’d created together. Something that they had both been looking forward to and had felt genuine joy from the notion of.

And something had destroyed that for them. For her, for him… for V before he’d even had the chance to exist. What would have been an environment filled with joy, laughter, and memories both good and bad had been replaced with a lifetime of pain and trauma for everyone involved. But why. What force had collided with them and shorn them apart before they’d been able to make their dreams a reality. What had built a hell from heaven’s despair? What had poisoned everything and even led to all of this?

If they were both willing, then he wanted to know. He wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. He wanted to understand what had been the catalyst for so much of the root cause of so much suffering in his family. He wanted to know just as Vergil wanted to know what had happened after the Darkslayer had departed. It was the only way to have closure. And to answer the questions she no doubt had for him as well.

He would join them.

This conversation was certainly going to be… something.

(-~-)

Hi, everyone! I’m THRILLED with the reception the last chapter is getting! So glad to finally be able to reveal to you guys that she’s alive! I’ve been sitting on that for SO DAMN LONG! But there is more to come! I’ll see you next Friday on the 6th of September and in the comment section! Take care and I hope you have a great week! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Bye bye!

[eponastory]

Omg this made my heart bleed when I wrote this...

Putting her hand on the iron handle, she pulled one side of the doors open. A blast of cold air hit her in the face before she stepped outside into the courtyard. Standing in the middle next to the fire was a figure. It was a man with his back facing her. His broad shoulders were cloacked by the blue jacket he wore, and the sword on his back gave her a clue as to where he was from. His hood was up concealing the color of his hair, but she already knew. She stopped when the door slammed shut behind her. The sound, though muffled a little by the snow falling around them, drew his attention.

Her heart sped up as the man in front of her slowly turned around. His blue eyes peered out from underneath his hood, making Anna's heart almost stop once again. She knew those eyes intimately as they had stared up at her once before. He did not say anything, only lowered his hood to reveal his white hair. Anna closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from forming in her eyes.

He was here. Right in front of her after twenty-four years of being without him. She opened her eyes again to see him in the light reflected from the snow around them.

Her son.

Alive and every bit of what she imagined him to be.

Her hands went to her mouth to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was the tears that were let loose. The tears that she kept bottled up for years after she became Matron. The tears she reserved for him alone.

The question was... did he know who she was?

I can just imagine the snow flying around Nero with the fire behind him as Anna is looking at him. Ugh... such a tear jerker moment there.

This excerpt comes from 'Do I Wait For Time to Do What It Does' and won't be published until I finish with the first story in the series.

[zandoog]

[soybean-official]

(not ship)

[harpybats]

[vngful]

[the-phantom-otaku]

The nice and naughty cat of the week

(I shouldn’t have had power in my back pocket)

Alternatives:

[sunkly]

[zeeckz]

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 74: Request

Chapter 74: Request

Note: Sorry I didn’t post this yesterday. I was going through some stuff mentally and didn’t have the willpower to type. Didn’t want this chapter to sit until next Friday, though. It’s already done, after all! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

(-~-)

Following the red-haired woman into the interior of the building, the pair of demon hunters were immediately hit by the cozy warmth that enveloped them like a warm blanket, the brisk chilly air fading from notion and notice as they took in Vivienne’s half of the duplex. Or what used to be her half of the duplex, that was.

It was an older building, the paint on the walls a dated color, and the wallpaper faded from exposure to the sun. The hardwood floors were sturdy but had clearly been refinished at some point due to damage, still beautiful in their own right but possessing the hallmarks of having survived wear and tear. A tiny scratch here, a barely noticeable nick there. Still, it was an oddly comforting space, reminiscent of what it might feel like to visit an adored grandparent’s house. There was a certain old charm that clung to the place. It had been well-loved, even if it was now empty and devoid of all the little touches that made it feel like a home.

“I don’t have a couch for you to take a rest on, but there is plenty of floor available.” She said with a touch of nonchalant humor as she walked to the far side of the room. It had a bay window that overlooked part of her yard. The part where they were holding the last of the items that they were loading into the truck. 

Even shielded from the drizzle by the plastic tarp that they were both stacked on top of and covered by, it was apparent that she didn’t seem to own that many things. The truck was somewhat full, but it was a small truck, not the large hauling vehicles that were typically associated with a house move. The three movers were probably there to move large, unwieldy things like the couch and the bookcase. Things that could probably be moved by a single person if they weren’t so damn awkward and oddly shaped.

“I’ve done enough sitting anyway,” Vergil said just loud enough to be heard clearly. He parked himself against the wall in the front room, the gravity of it all still settling in. He knew that he was looking directly at her, but she still just didn’t feel… real. This whole situation didn’t. This whole moment in time. Not a single bit of it. But not in a sinister way that made him doubt its validity. In a breath-stealing, heart-aching way that left him stumped as to how he should cope with it.

She was alive. She truly was.

Dante slipped in behind the pair, making accidental eye contact with Vivienne in a moment that led them both to just staring at one another, equally mystified. Dante pointed to the open door behind him, wordlessly wondering if he should open or close it. She nodded in favor of him closing it behind himself. What they were going to talk about was better kept behind closed doors.

“So you’re Dante? He mentioned you.” She spoke in a measured, slow cadence, almost as though she were taking in a sculpture at a museum that she’d heard described but had never seen a picture of before. There was a curiosity to her gaze that he couldn’t fully read. Almost as though she were analyzing him. There was a keen intellect behind that stare, that much was clear. But it did make him wonder just what was going through that head of hers?“I thought you were… Well, it seems I’ve made that mistake twice. Perhaps more than that, but that’s wishful thinking.“

A look of confusion and sudden, rapid realization came across Vergil’s face as he clued into what Vivienne might be talking about. He turned his attention to the both of them. Oh, she was referring to that…

“He wasn’t working with the full picture there, if I’m willing to make a guess,” Dante said, feeling his older twin brother’s eyes on him. It was the truth, at least to his knowledge. He didn’t know the precise date and time that Vergil had discovered that he’d survived the fire that had claimed their childhood home, but from context, he got the distinct impression that it was some time after Vivienne had gone missing. Oh, how differently things might have gone… 

Vergil nodded in agreement. “I wasn’t. I didn’t discover that you were alive until after everything… transpired.”

The way that he paused after he said those words didn’t go unnoticed by Vivienne. There was no malice or blame in those words, and if there was, it was directed at the man himself and not her, a concept that seemed to pain her if the subtle change in her face was anything to go off of.

“Well, at least the two of you found one another again.” She said with a solemn look. There was an unspoken sadness to her words but also a gentle sympathy. She didn’t know what they had been through, but she didn’t envy them for their presumed suffering. They were brothers. Twins. There was no way that there wasn’t any suffering born of that separation. Of the path they’d both been forced by fate to walk. To walk alone. “I’m Vivienne. I feel like you already knew that, but still. Nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you from Vergil once upon a time…”

Dante and Vergil both did their level best to hide the full-body flinch that they both did involuntarily. It didn’t work. She didn’t say anything, but it was evident in the subtle shift in her facial expression that the cogs in her brain were turning as a direct result of what they’d just said. She didn’t have any way of knowing the history between them, but she’s certainly figured out that she was missing something important here.

“Yeah, same here,” Dante said with a chuckle. He didn’t have the first idea what to say to Vivienne. She was pleasant enough but he just didn’t know how to strum up a conversation with her or even make small talk. Maybe it was the gravity of what they were doing here that was messing with his head.

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere in the room. It was clear that it wasn’t a result of what he’d said, but slowly by degrees the mask began to slip a bit and she just looked… tired. She looked worn down by life, utterly exhausted mentally as opposed to physically. As if something were weighing on her. And as though she’d heard their shared thoughts, she let out a deep, stifled breath. She had something to say. Something that she needed to get off her chest.

Vivienne turned her attention fully to Vergil, her eyes meeting his in a manner so intense that it took him off guard a bit to behold it. She needed his attention. And she had it. Fully. Uncompromisingly. 

“I… need to talk to you about something… “ She said almost too quietly as she cleared her throat. She averted her eyes for a moment, using her left hand to rub the back of her neck in discomfort. The muscle in the side of her neck tightened visibly as she removed her and looked over at him again, awaiting his response.

“As do I.” He said almost cautiously, noting the not-so-subtle shift in her behavior. He didn’t need to ask if something was wrong. Yes. That was very clear. The question was what was wrong? There were so many possibilities that came to mind just off of the top of his head, after all. Just him being there right then and there could be a large part of the issue. After all, this was probably a bad time. But would there ever have been a good time for something like this? For someone you thought was dead to just pop back into your life?

He was sure that she was glad to know that he was alive and well, just as he was glad to know that she was. But surely a lot had changed in her life just as it had in his. And neither of them had any way of knowing anything about what the other experienced. They… had a lot to talk about down the road. He just hoped she was willing to take that journey with him. 

Time didn’t always heal all wounds. Sometimes it allowed them to ferment. To fester. He hoped beyond hope that this wasn’t one of those occasions.

“Can I go first?” She said amicably, a pained glimmer in her eye. This was something she needed to say to him, not something she wanted to. That became clearer and clearer with each passing second.

He nodded in agreement. She didn’t need to ask. He was going to defer to her on that anyway, but he knew she didn’t know that. He was curious to see what she had to say, even if he had a growing suspicion that whatever she had to say would be difficult to hear.

“You have every right to.” It was really all that he felt he needed to say. She didn��t need his permission. He wasn’t giving it. He was just telling her that he was listening. He hadn’t come all this way to dismiss what she had to say. To dismiss her. He felt fortunate that she hadn’t just told him to leave or refused to speak to him. This all had to be quite a shock…  

“You might want to make yourself… Comfortable? I don’t even know if you really can, given the circumstances.” She let out a disbelieving scoff, shaking her head, her eyes a thousand miles away. Well, this was going to be quite the conversation, wasn’t it? Perhaps one of the hardest ones she’d ever had to have with anyone, ever. No. It was the hardest. This would be a Sisyphean feat. “This is going to be hard. For both of us.”

(-~-)

Oh boy, this is gonna be something… Tune in next Friday for chapter 75! Take care out there, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I’ll see you next week and in the comment section. Thanks for reading! Bye bye!

[iszapizza]

Them

(I know this is a ship meme but I wanted to do this with them. PLEASE don’t tag as a ship, thank you)

[liibrra]

SSSnoring

[alicethenobody]

This post is just my interpretation of the characters of course, not saying anything I say here is totally factual.

Dante and Nero are similar in a lot of ways, yet so very different in the way they treat their part human part demon nature.

If Vergil was burying the light (his humanity), Dante was burying the darkness (his inner demon). Ever since his mom died he suppressed his demon side, pretending he was a full human in his Tony Redgrave days. Not even the people closest to him (Grue and Nell) knew about his relation to Sparda.

Dante eventually accepted that part of himself, but it’s evidenced that he still hates said part. For example, in the DMC5 novel it’s explained he didn’t want to go to Patty’s birthday party because he’d be surrounded by “normal” (in his words) people and he doesn’t consider himself normal (though he plans to go see her after the mission anyways and the party has died down because he cares a lot about her) he very much has a “Everything I touch dies” mentality because in his mind his relation to Sparda is why the shit with Gilver (who was created by Mundus) happened and Grue, Jessica, and Nell suffered the consequences. This might also explain a lot about why in 3 he resented Sparda and the fact that he was related to him, constantly having demons ruining his life. And he hated the fact that he was part demon himself because demons are the reason he lost the people he loves. That’s why, despite his love for humanity and caring so much about his friends, he keeps the people he loves at a certain distance, he thinks it’s the only way to protect them. This extended to his nephew.

As for Nero? He started off similarly, hating his demonic side (growing up in Fortuna fucking sucked) and pretended to be fully human like Dante did as Tony by hiding his arm. When he asked Kyrie if “this is what she wanted” she essentially told him she wanted all of him, that included the part of himself that he hated. Ultimately, because he had someone like Kyrie, he was able to do something Dante couldn’t: He learned to love his demonic side, not even trying to hide his arm anymore when 5 takes place.

While Vergil’s theme is about burying his humanity, and Dante’s theme being about his inner demon wanting to break free, Nero’s theme is about embracing that side of him and wearing who he is on his sleeve.

Dante helped Nero a lot in DMC4 and was kind of a mentor figure to him. While Nero didn’t openly show it at the time, he really looks up to Dante and respects him, the fact that Dante accepted him as part of his business must’ve meant a lot to him. DMC5 ends with Nero returning the favor, by helping Dante realize he didn’t have to kill his brother again and that he could change and that they could mend their relationship. I think Nero would be the perfect person to help him maybe not hate himself for who he is so much? They’re both very good hearted people but I think Dante needs to be shown that being as self sacrificial about things as he is isn’t what’s best for him or anyone really.