#post dmc 5

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

I wonder how many times Sin Devil Triggered Vergil's accidentally hit things with his tail. He's been through a LOT of forms throughout his life but the closest thing to a "tail" he's ever had was Nelo Angelo's cape.

     Just-- this is kind of hyper-specific but y'all know the scene from Robots where they first show Aunt Fanny (this one); I just imagine this is what it's like the first handful of times that Vergil uses his Sin Trigger. Just swinging his tail around by accident and hitting

EVERYTHING.

     I mean, he wouldn't be so soft spoken as her but I think it would be the same vibe.      Small fic; ignore some dumb logic-- =      Rain heavily poured down onto the broken pavement as the three Sparda descendants stood together. It had been a long day and the targeted devil of today's contract was upon a high building, blissfully unaware of the death that was going to befall them.      A Sin Devil Triggered Vergil and human Nero were currently going over the game plan about how to dispose of said devil. Dante was acting as a sort of lookout, standing off the side behind Vergil.      Through a heavily distorted voice, Vergil spoke, "Are you sure about this?"      "Yeah," Nero nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets, "I'll be fine; it's not like I haven't flown before."      The plan was simple, Vergil was going to carry Nero up to the target where he'd snatch the devil with his "wings", dropping it right down to Dante; who would be waiting in his own Sin Devil Trigger.      Vergil turned to speak to his brother, pivoting around, "Dante--?"      A grunt left Dante's lips as he felt Vergil's tail whip into his middle, catching his clothes on the sharp scales and getting snagged stuck.      Confused, Vergil turned the other way, causing his tail to move as well. Dante did his best to try and unravel his shirt but was unable to. Loud hearty laughter came from Nero as he watched.      Dante shouted at his twin, "Would you stop moving?"      Freezing in place, Vergil flinched as he felt Dante gently tug the shirt free. Though the scales aren't sensitive, this was still a very new sensation to the blue devil.      Now free, Dante came around front, his shirt in ribbons, "You owe me a new shirt."      Tilting his head in confusion, Vergil waited for Dante to elaborate; completely unaware of his tail that was flicking about.      However, it was Nero who chimed in, "Should get a blanket too- or some bubble wrap- No, wait, I've got it!" He smiled with another loud laugh, "Pool noodles!"      Dante joined the laughter, "That's a great idea; we should get the bright-colored ones too-"      "Just to be safe," a thick layer of sarcasm filled Nero's voice, "His scales blend in so well with the environment, you know."      As the pair laughed, Vergil let out a low huff, crossing his arms, "What are you two on about?"      Dante walked over to his twin, placing a heavy hand on one of the silver-scaled shoulder pauldrons adorning Vergil's shoulder, "That deadly weapon that's coming out of your ass-"      "It comes from the middle of my back," a small huff left through his teeth, shoving Dante's hand away, "Perhaps it would be best not to stand directly behind me, Dante."      "Yeah- Yeah, sure," Dante gave a dismissive wave, "you still need to learn to control your tail, Verge-"      "I can control it just fine. Now," he continued straight through, not allowing the others to rebuke his statement, "could we get this over with? Or would you rather waste more time?"      Rolling his eyes, Dante shook his head, "You really gotta learn to loosen up, Vergil-- have some fun," with a smile, Dante Sin Triggered and awaited orders from the cranky blue devil.

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 77: Ache

Chapter 77: Ache

Note: You might notice a slight change in my writing style. I’m trying to find a balance between appreciating the little things that give the story character and Actually Getting to the Fucking Point ™. That way I can progress the plot at a more satisfying rate while still retaining the quality of storytelling I strive to achieve. I want to become more succinct in ways that matter. Please let me know what you think, especially if you don’t like any of the changes. I care about how much you enjoy what I create for you!

(-~-)

Three Months Later…

The walkway leading up to the property's front entrance was flanked on both sides by green landscaping that gently wafted in the late-night breeze. The air was warm, the sky dark. The faint light emitted by the outdoor lights that flanked the path to the front door of the orphanage were the only thing keeping her from tripping. It was dark otherwise.

Approaching the front door to the building, she took the small bundle in her arms and knelt down in front of the doorstep, setting it down. The baby was only just waking up, having dozed off on the way over. A tuft of white hair stuck out of the top of the blanket as she smiled softly at him, trying to hide the sadness in her eyes even though he couldn’t comprehend it. She stuck a parting gift for him and an envelope inside of the blanket explaining the circumstances, feeling that was the least she could do.

It took every ounce of willpower and physical strength in her to let go of him, but after what felt like a lifetime, she managed to unfurl her fingers. And as she stood, she felt the knife twist just that little bit deeper into her very soul as he babbled unknowingly, blissfully unaware of what she was about to do. She bent over to gently kiss him one last time before standing, knocking firmly on the door, and turning away, stopping on her own heart as she walked away.

In her heart, she knew it was for his own good. That he was safer here. He’d survived one demon attack too many… but she didn’t know if she could survive this. But that didn’t matter to her anymore. All that mattered was that he lived. Even if it killed her.

“I’m so sorry, little one. Please… forgive me.”

“Don’t look back” She told herself as she heard the door open behind her. Don’t look back.

(-~-)

“I went back every now and then. Just to look at him from the other side of the fence. He was such a precious thing. I couldn’t stay away. I tried to for his safety; for his sake. But… I just couldn’t. It was selfish of me. And I… it came back to haunt me just like I thought it would.” She paused, dwelling on details unknown to the twins, unsure as to whether she should proceed. If the words she pondered should ever pass her lips. “A few years after I brought him there… a fire started. Out of the clear blue sky. It was a demon attack. I know it was. Everyone else was blind to the signs but it was clear as day to me.”

“They wouldn’t tell me how many people died in that fire. They were children. They couldn’t. But… I hired someone and they didn’t find any information on what happened to him after everything. He just vanished off the face of the Earth. I looked for years but… “

Vivienne stopped speaking and slowly met Vergil’s eyes, tears streaming down her face as everything around them melted away. It was just the two of them, caught up in the storm of what their love had wrought.

“I… I took him there because I thought he would be safe… And it cost our baby his life.” She attempted to hold back her sobs but failed, her breath catching in her chest as she looked down at the floor. She rested her chin on the back of her hand, disillusioned. “It cost all of those children their lives. They… disserved so much better.”

She was overcome by grief and it was clear that she’d been carrying this false narrative on her conscience for far too long.

How he longed to remove those years of pain from her and restore what they had taken from her.

“... That wasn’t your doing, Vivienne. He unintentionally drew them there, not you. They were drawn to the power he inherited from me; the scent of his blood is like a beacon.” It was a reality he knew all too well. The scent of the blood and power of a descendant of his father’s bloodline was like ambrosia to the denizens of hell, especially the ones that loathed them. That faithful day V had been left to languish in the flames of his orphanage had been a mutual turning point for them both. If he only knew.

“It’s a guilt neither of you disserve to carry. It is no more your fault for bringing him there than it was for him to unintentionally wield his power.”

She stared at him, her eyes brimming with confusion as her brow furrowed and she gnawed at the inside of her lip. “... What are you getting at? How could you possibly know that?”

 Vergil took a breath. He knew not what effect his words would have on her, but he knew they would hurt. But he had to tell her the truth, even if he couldn’t bear the look in her eyes.

“Because I have lived it. And he is alive.”

Vivienne looked at Vergil as though he had backhanded her in the mouth. For a fleeting moment, she looked as though she were going to object to the reality of that statement. To tell him that simply couldn’t be true. But she could see the truth of his words in his eyes. And despite her reservations and inability to comprehend how that could even possibly be the reality she lived in, something in her gut just knew.

“... I didn’t look hard enough… He’s been alive this… oh god, how could I-” She fully broke down crying as she spoke, unable to continue. A flood of joy and despair overwhelmed her as she realized everything that could have been and everything that had and had not happened. She’d simply made an innocent mistake. And it had cost her years with him. A senseless cruelty inflicted upon both of them by some force unknown that had best hope it never came to blows with her.

He didn’t speak. He knew his worlds weren’t welcome right now. Nothing he could say could console her in a state like this. Instead, he stood and came to her side, kneeling in front of her so that her could look at her, his silence saying everything his words couldn’t. She refused to meet his gaze initially but then shuddered, her eyes welling beyond the point of sightlessness as she draped her arms around him and sobbed onto his shoulder, her agonized wales cutting him deeper than any blade ever had.

“Vergil… I buried him. There’s an empty child-sized casket with a marker not far from here. He’s… You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

Nodding to answer her, he sighed heavily, the weight of her words not lost on him. He wasn’t sure that was something he would’ve survived having to witness. And she’d done it without him… He would stand here as long as she needed. “He wants to know you. I’m here because I promised him I’d find you. Penance of a sort for… some of the mistakes that I made with him in the past. My own mistakes I wish I could undo.”

Dante repressed the urge to make any sound at all. He wouldn’t interrupt them. But that was certainly a… charitable assessment of how things had started between them. Still, it was a voluntary touch of honesty and vulnerability that Dante was pleased to see from his older twin. No tooth pulling required. He was choosing to be more forthcoming than he generally was with her. She disserved that. It was good that she didn’t even need to ask. That was just his default when it came to her. Good.

She stayed there for a while, taking in everything that she’d just heard more fully before sighing heavily and slowly, her eyes still glistening with unspent tears. “He… wants to meet me? He doesn’t hate me after everything he’s probably been through?”

“I don’t believe he possesses the capacity to hate you, Vivienne. I’m sure he has questions, but assigning blame isn’t an interest of his. Truly, I think he simply longs to know who his mother is.” Genuinely, that was what he believed. If V was capable of giving Vergil another chance after everything he’d done, then this was something he was confident he could speak of. Putting words in the mouth of another wasn’t a hobby he often indulged in, but this was an exception.

She nodded, wiping her eyes as she cleared her throat. That was promising. And in truth, her answer would have been the same regardless. She would face him. He had every right to meet her. It was the only thing he’d ever asked of her.

“Vergil… Where is he?”

(-~-)

I want to thank all of you for waiting while I went through some things. I have some plans for the schedule going forward next year that I think will make us ALL happy! Here’s to a better year. I’m back!

[sparkie96]

13 Days of Kinktober: Day One; “Hunted”

Post Devil May Cry 5. After the shit show that was the Qliphoth Incident in Redgrave, Vergil and Dante return from the Underworld. Vergil is seemingly alright due to having escaped before while Dante is…off.

Enter Leon Kennedy, supportive friend and accidental victim to one feral Demon Omega.

Rated for Language, Canon-Typical Violence, and Sexual Themes.

[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:

[zeeckz]

[sunkly]

[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!

[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.

[harpybats]

don’t ask what prompted this.

[storytellering]

Have some V cosplay to celebrate V bday day ♥︎