#The only other thing I've seen of dmc is the ending to the 5th game

[mechazushi]

25 Minutes. . .

Two oddly dressed men walked into a shabby elevator located inside an even more dilapidated building. Both of them were dressed in blue clothing, one in a more conservatively decorated trench coat than the man next to him with the much longer overcoat. Both carried swords that one could tell at a glance matched what would be their personalities should they have been compelled to speak. The taller of the two carried an air of severity that slid off of his rigid stance, making it all the more obvious when also considering the katana on his hip. The shorter one had more of a bored but still lively appearance that complimented the odd design of the weapon carried on his back. What seemed to be the most interesting was the fact that both of them were carrying a mountain of pizza boxes.

"Home sweet base." Nero sighed numbly as he stepped off the elevator.

Followed shortly by the man that was biologically his father, the pair of them trudged casually down the hallway towards the apartment they were currently staying in the next few weeks. As they stopped in front of the hastily repaired door, Nero shifted his load of pizza boxes to one arm and abruptly moved them on top of Vergil's pile.

"Do me a favor and hold this." He crassly asked as he dig around in his coat pockets for his set of keys.

Vergil took an investigative sniff from the new mound of food in front of him and tried not to recoil from them so hard as to drop them, "I honestly don't understand how you lot can eat this dredge. I could smell the grease even before we entered the parlor."

"We paid extra for your veggie deluxe on thin crust, so shut up." Nero countered as he finally found the key he was looking for. Vergil noticed his son taking a moment to himself, letting out deep breaths almost like he was centering himself.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, keeping his tone deceptively neutral.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..." Nero started before leaning his head back and sighing heavily again.

"I will never say this willingly to his face, not in a million years, but... I like Dante. As far as Uncles go, he's not bad considering what this family is like. But lately I've started wondering if you getting kidnapped as a child didn't inadvertently prevent you from killing him earlier in your lives."

"What I find to be more interesting is the fact that you're only now asking yourself this question after having to deal with not only him, but someone who is almost exactly like him on top of that." Vergil retorted as an eyebrow raised in evaluation.

"I wouldn't say he's exactly like him." Nero countered as he slid the key into the lock, "I mean, he's dorky, but I wouldn't-"

"Dorky? What is that word?" Vergil interrupted suddenly.

"it's like a nicer way of calling him a bumbling idiot." His son answered after a moment of thought.

"I'd rather you just call him a bumbling idiot." Vergil muttered sorely.

"I don't know, I feel like that's a bit harsh for him. I know he means well and all and he's the one that's stuck here." Nero rambled on as he pushed the door open, moving past the threshold just enough to take back his stack of boxes from Vergil's hold.

"Are his jokes corny? Sure, but unlike Dante, I like to think he actually has a little tack." Nero continued as he walked into the main living area and headed for the kitchen. Neither of them got very far before they heard a loud crash and a shout coming from a connecting room off of the living room.

"Oh God, Dante!" The now familiar voice of their interdimensional visitor sounded nowhere near distressed and more joyful instead.

Nero just groaned as roughly dropped the pizza boxes on the counter before marching over to the doorway that opened up into the game room-turned-battle plan room.

"We were gone for less than twenty five minutes and you two are already wrestling?!" He shouted as he quickly rounded the corner to look at the two of them. Anger quickly turned into confusion, then shock, and finally comically vocal disgust and Nero practically sprinted away from the open door frame.

"NOPE, NOT WRESTLING! DEFINITELY NOT WRESTLING!" Nero yelled as he ran past Vergil to head towards the bathroom.

Now curious, Vergil carefully placed his batch of boxes down on the counter and made his way over to where his brother was most likely being a source of the distressing incident. Rounding the same corner, the first thing he noticed was Dante in a state of partial undress while standing in front of what was once a cluttered pool table. His shirt was hanging around an elbow with his pants just barely hanging on his hips. He was busy trying to pull a pant leg over one of his boots as he hopped on the other leg. Still not understanding what had happened, his vision soon caught movement from under the table that resembled Kafka Hibino, a man that had become trapped in their world and was currently rooming with Dante as they all figured out a way to send him back. Looking past the discarded documents and game pieces that once stood for allies and enemies now on the floor, he could also see that Kafka was much more naked than his brother, having only his boxers to his name. With all the pieces in front of him, did he finally realize what could cause his son to run out of the room.

"Really Dante, really? He's not from here!" Vergil cried as he figured out what had happened while they were gone.

"Wow, and after all that bonding we had just to find out you're a racist." Dante tried to joke as he quickly shuffled his pants higher around his waist.

"I mean he's not from this world!" Vergil attempted to counter back, still reeling from the revelation that his brother was and apparently is trying to... court the Kaiju from another realm.

"You say that like it's a problem. It's not like I'm going to get him pregnant or anything?" Dante argued as he fixed his shirt back over his head.

"Damn, so those last twenty minutes are all for nothin', huh?" Kafka cackled as his head popped over the pool table with a shit eating grin.

"Kafka, now's not the time." Dante replied as a hand came up to rub at his face.

"Right, yep, sorry." Kafka muttered as he dove back down to look for more of his clothes only to peer back over the table again.

"Uhh... pants?" he asked cryptically, directing the question towards Dante.

After taking a closer look at the khakis he was wearing, he turned towards his partner.

"Ahhh, shit, I think I'm wearing them." He muttered apologetically.

"That's fine. I think I see your pj pants over here anyway." Kafka answered as he quietly crawled away from the table.

There were so many emotions running through Vergil's mind that it almost felt like he was physically shutting down. Just standing there, vibrating in what was mostly shock and anger and it only spiraling worse from there. The only action he could bring himself to do before he blew his top and did something drastically worse was to scream at them all over again.

"Honestly, on God's Green Earth, how did you manage to fall in love with someone who's more of a bumbling idiot than you are!?"

"HEY! I resemble that statement!" Kafka shouted back as he clumsily leapt up from the floor and held onto the edge of the pool table for balance.

"It's "Resent" that statement Darlin'." Dante corrected gently.

"Oh, is that the word?" Kafka asked before he clicked his tongue in disappointment, "Damn, English got me again."

"Seriously though!" Nero bellowed out as he stomped his way back from the bathroom to scold them some more, "Twenty five minutes is not a lot of time! Were you two just waiting for us to leave and-" As he came around where Vergil was standing he made the mistake of looking Dante in the eyes and was immediately reminded of what he saw when he first walked in.

"Nope, shit, I looked again." He bemoaned as his hands came up to his eyes and walked away.

Vergil just heaved an almost signature sounding sigh of disappointment and shook his head solemnly, "When you two feel like you can behave like actual members of society... There's food on the counter."

"Oooh, food!" Kafka chirped as he wrangled his shirt back on.

The pair of them took an extra second to straighten out their outfits better before walking into the open living room and kitchen. Nero was digging around in the fridge and loudly knocking around glass bottles while Vergil took his time separating out the pizza boxes into three piles. Nero eventually pulled his head out of the fridge and smacked the cap of a beer bottle on the edge of the door, swiftly popping it off. He took several swigs of it before turning around to face the boxes, only to develop a look of disgust once he saw Kafka's outfit.

"Not the Elmo pants..." He whimpered in repulsion.

"What? What's wrong with Elmo?" Kafka fired back in confusion.

"They're his pants!" Nero exclaimed as he gestured to Dante with the hand holding the bottle.

"Yeah and he's wearing mine. Trust me, I'd love to take them back off of him, but you know, three's company and all that." Kafka joked with a touch of anger in his voice. Nero just groaned weakly and opened his pizza box.

"I don't think I can even bring myself to eat this now." He commented unenthusiasticaly.

"You probably shouldn't anyway. The amount of grease on that could kill a lesser demon, I think." Vergil sneered as he tucked into his thin crust.

"And just like that, I'll eat it to spite you." Nero countered as some joy came back into his manner.

"Aw, It all looks so good!" Kafka exclaimed as he saw the spread, " Oh, is that mushroom?" He asked innocently as he looked at Vergil's pizza.

"Don't" Vergil answered threateningly as his thumb clicked open the top of his katana.

"Juuust askin'." Kafka chuckled nervously as he held his hands up defensively.

"Here." Nero commanded as he shoved a smaller box in Kafka's direction, " Take your loaded tots and leave."

"Geeze, I know where I'm not wanted." Kafka growled woefully, "I'll be on the roof I guess."

"Hey." Dante said softly as a gentle hand came around Kafka's wrist, "I'll meet you up there in ten, okay?" He offered with a wink, hoping to cool the sting from the rude reception.

Kafka just smiled and leaned back to plant a quick kiss to Dante's scratchy cheek. He turned and took his food out the apartment and clicked the door behind him. All three watched with varying expressions. Dante was smirking and content, Vergil was unreadable as usual, and Nero looked like he wanted to set the door on fire.

"So many questions, and I don't want an answer to any of them." Nero muttered as he harshly chewed through the stringy cheese.

Hey, soooooo.... Guess who finished the Devil May Cry show over on Netflix...

Only thing I'm gonna say about it is that it's another contender for the long list of shows that fall under the category of "If You Didn't Grow Up on the Source Material, It's Not Bad."

Like, I can see where people might have broken out the torches and pitchforks over a few things, but it wasn't overall a bad watch. Funnily enough, It's almost like Kaiju Number 8. As in, "It's not Ground-Breaking or anything, but just mindless good fun."

@sonicasura made a post a while back about how if Dante and Kafka met, they would definitely be compatible as lovers and would have an interesting dynamic and after having watched the show I Get It Now. Mentally could not stop thinking about this AU so this is another instance of "If I don't write this down NOW, I'm not going to get anything done on anything else." I have so much in my head about this I honestly could make a fan game over this.

Also I feel like I should specify that Vergil and Nero aren't homophobic, they just don't like Kafka. Mainly because it's like working with a version of Dante that YOU KNOW he doesn't have to act like that constantly, but not only is that his default personality it's a less suave version that feels more annoying to them.