#should she have sparda or force edge? probably yes

[hecatialapis-lazuli]

good evening dmc enjoyers

[blackrose343]

Hopeless - Chapter 4: The Decision

Warnings: Angst, gore, language, and violence

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary:  You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Yay! I finished this earlier than I thought I would. I honestly have no idea if the chapter titles make sense or if they’re necessary. 

Present Day

Lower class Soul Snatchers made their appearance as V and Vergil got closer to you. Vergil swiftly cut through them. Griffon and Shadow were ahead weakening the others. V ended each one with his cane. None of these Soul Snatchers were a priority but there were too many to ignore. V and Vergil knew this was a ploy to tire them before reaching you. V had to retain his strength and demonic power so Vergil told V to go ahead. (These were nothing compared to what Vergil had to face in the past.) V left Vergil to deal with the pests. 

It didn’t take long for V to find the hideout. Your captor was standing on the roof, waiting. V stopped. His eyes widened with worried disbelief. You were pulled to the edge of the roof then you were forced to kneel before your captor. Your captor stepped on your ankle’s chains ensuring you’ll stay put. You were so happy to see V, but your tears were not of joy. You were mortified with V seeing you like this: completely exposed and defeated. You turned your head away, unable to look at V. You bit your lip keeping your whimpers to a minimum. Your captor forced you to face V by pulling your hair.

V's eyes darkened. Without realizing it he prepared to summon Nightmare. Vergil appeared, grabbing V’s arm. He warned V not to be rash. They couldn’t risk injuring you more than you already are. Vergil feared you wouldn’t last much longer. You’ve been tortured for over a week straight. No time to rest or heal. He knew your injuries were never treated. If anything you were given below minimum treatment. Anything to keep you barely breathing. Vergil could sense you were grasping the last bit of life you had left. They had to save you before your time runs out.

“Well, I was expecting only Vergil Sparda. The other I was not. Maybe now (Y/N) will tell me who killed Carmilla.” You felt a blade above your throat. All you could do was stay still. You wished more than anything that you had the energy to fight him. Cold sweat formed as your body became numb. Your heartbeat became faster anticipating the worst. Your eyes gazed up at your captor. His sinister smile instantly told you you were going to die no matter what answer you gave. You took a gulp of air. You looked down at V and Vergil mentally telling them how thankful you were they found you. The featherlight slice from the blade brought you back to your situation. “I’m waiting.”

“As I told you when you captured me. I’m not telling you shit!” Out of spite your captor brutally sliced your throat. You struggled to breathe as he kicked you off the building. You felt the kick, then everything became a blur. You weren’t sure why you chose to keep V a secret until the very end. Perhaps it was because you wanted to protect him. You couldn’t let him die because of you. Or perhaps you thought the ones in front of you were other Soul Snatcher’s deceiving you.

V and Vergil were frozen in place absorbing what they just saw. Seeing you fall is what snapped them out of it. V ran to you, desperate to catch you. Vergil knew V wouldn’t get to you in time. He teleported closer to the building then jumped. Gently, he laid you on the ground as V made his way to you. Vergil was doing what he could to help you. V knelt beside you pushing your hair out of your face. V was speechless. He tried to speak to you but his words got tangled in his throat. All V could do was watch you, feeling completely useless.

“V!...V?...V!? HEY SHAKESPEARE!!!” The other Soul Snatchers were gathering ready for their meal. Griffon was waiting for V to summon Shadow and for a command. V was still not saying a word. “Why?” was all V could think of. Why couldn’t he find you sooner? Why didn’t he save you sooner? Why couldn’t he help you now?

“Damn, you two didn’t have to steal all the fun.” Dante shot at the Soul Snatchers getting too close to V. Nero shot at your captor preventing him from getting to V. Dante stood behind V while Nero crouched next to V. Nero’s heart nearly stopped. He couldn't process what happened to you. What did you do to deserve this? Nero couldn’t fathom what was going on with V. Unlike V, Nero would be reassuring you you would be okay while concealing his wrath. And that’s what he did.

Dante’s attention was fixated on your captor. His nostrils were filled with the scent of your blood. His ears were filled with your struggle for air. He wouldn’t deny he became more worried when he heard Nero’s reassurances. He asked what happened but no one answered. Your captor encouraged Dante to look. Dante knew better. Your captor lunged at Dante as Dante shot another Soul Snatcher. Nero quickly got up and helped Dante get rid of the remaining Soul Snatchers.

V couldn’t motivate himself to get up; to fight. He truly believed he lost you. Vergil convinced him otherwise. While searching for you in the Underworld, Vergil found a demonic healer. Vergil doesn’t know what it would want in exchange for healing you but it was the only option they had. V didn’t care what the price was. What he wanted was for you to live. V nodded at Vergil giving him the okay to take you. Vergil sliced a portal to the healer then left with you.

V terminated the Soul Snatchers that attempted to pursue Vergil. He faced your tormentor filled with wrath he thought he could never conjure. V made it his personal mission to obliterate him and every Soul Snatcher that walked the earth. Tightly he gripped his cane then pointed it at your tormentor. Mindlessly, he commanded Griffon and Shadow then summoned Nightmare. “What evil lurks...I must destroy.” 

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Vergil placed you on the ground, then the healer kneeled next to you. The healer hovered her claws over your body. Vergil had his guard up even though he knew she was examining you. She felt all of your pain, your sorrow, your fear and much more. Vergil growled indicating she needed to start healing you before it was too late. She was annoyed but understood. She let her hand rest above your throat then casted a small spell to ease the pain. To Vergil it appeared that she did nothing. She continued to examine the rest of you. The healer looked at Vergil with grief filled eyes. “I can heal them physically if that is what you seek. Although, it will take much more to completely heal them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think they will easily continue living normally after the suffering they endured?” Vergil grunted with annoyance. He looked away unable to answer the healer. She was right. Vergil couldn’t imagine what you’ve been through. The torture Mundus inflicted upon him was probably worse than what happened to you. It took some time for Vergil to heal and adjust after escaping Mundus and becoming whole. Yet, Vergil knows you’re not him. It may take a long time for you to fully recover or maybe you never will. “I can seal their memories...but it will not be forever.”

“...Do what you must to fully heal them.” The healer nodded, then placed her hands on your throat and forehead. She chanted a spell to heal your body. Once your body became fully healed, she looked into your memories. Vergil sat down next to you holding your hand. He was unsure if he made the right decision.

One Year Ago

The opposite side of Red Grave was a graveyard compared to where you and V were. To you the area was empty yet you could sense the presence of others. The corpses you saw weren't drained by the Qliphoth roots like the others. These were mutilated. Someone or something became desperate for food. It was evident from the bite marks. To keep yourself in a decent mood you wondered if V was joking about eating a demon. (You really hoped he was. The image of him eating one made you want to barf.)

You opened Creatures of the Occult and How to Summon Them to see where you needed to go. You thought following the symbols would be easy. Instead the symbols were a riddle revealing where to go. Or maybe it was just your guilt for leaving V distracting you. Maybe a part of you didn’t want to complete your mission without him. You shook your head. You left him behind for his own good. There’s nothing you need to feel guilty about. You needed to focus or you could get killed.

“I see you made some progress.” You turned to the voice. You couldn’t believe V found you so quickly.

“V, you should be resting. You’re supposed to meet Nero in a couple days.”

“I have gotten more than enough rest.”

“V, go. You need to spare as much strength as you can to defeat Urizen.” You turned your attention back to the symbols. You hoped he would listen. He didn’t. You can hear V’s cane tap the ground as he made his way to you. You buried your head in the book. 

V prevented you from stepping away by trapping you between his arms. He was almost pinning you to the wall. His proximity was a bigger distraction than you wanted to admit. His breath tickled your ear. His lips lightly brushed it with each word of his reasoning to stay with you. You honestly wanted to give in. NO! You had to stick with your decision. You pushed V’s arm out of the way then continued to figure out what the symbols were saying. V wrapped an arm around your waist. He pulled you to him as he twirled you. Your eyes widened when his lips hit yours. His tongue easily entered your mouth as he pushed you up against the wall. You were more than hesitant to repay the gesture. Yes, you enjoyed it but you never thought V would resort to something like this to get what he wants. Something was off.

“V, enough.” V tightened the grip on your waist as you tried to pry him off of you. The nibbles on your neck became rougher, harder. It felt as if he was trying to eat you. Realization hit you. This wasn’t V. This was Carmilla. You did the first thing that came to mind to get her off of you. You stomped on her foot then slammed your knee into her. You took advantage of her loosened grip by pushing her away from you. Her fangs grazed your skin, giving her a tantalizing taste of your blood. You managed to gain some distance between you and Carmilla.  “I said enough, Carmilla.”

“I can already tell your soul will be worth the wait.” Carmilla licked her lips as she morphed to her preferred appearance. You now understood why she was able to devour so many souls so easily. Saying she looked like a celebrity was an understatement. Her beauty was more godlike, divine. Her strawberry blonde hair was somehow able to show off her figure perfectly. Her delighted laughter was enchanting. You would bet her silver tongue had no faults. She looked at you so sweetly yet with so much hunger. That look changed to determination when she charged at you.

You did your best to avoid Carmilla while shooting her. Carmilla was able to dodge your bullets with little difficulty. Very few grazed her. She threw you against a building almost knocking you out. You tried to get up but it was feeling near impossible. You heard the building above you readying to fall. Quickly, you gained composure to dodge the falling building. You were pissed that you were getting your ass beat. You wanted nothing more than to see her cockiness turn into sheer terror.

Carmilla was watching you like a predator who watches their prey. To herself she admitted she was amused with your efforts to survive. (Too bad the fun had to end.) She knew you weren’t going to last much longer. She was looking forward to having your soul. For the first time in almost a month she was going to have a delicious meal. All the souls she could find were disgusting. At first she devoured the souls of her fellow clansmen. As time passed she had to settle for bums off the street or whatever she could get. Nothing could beat the taste of a powerful soul. 

Carmilla appeared before you then threw you up into the air. She kicked you back into the ground from midair. You rolled onto your arms coughing up blood. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer if she kept this shit going. She was going to play with you until the very end. You shot at her while she was in the air then quickly rolled to the side as she landed. The force of Carmilla’s landing caused a hole in the street. You continued to shoot at her as you both fell into the subway system. 

As you got up you saw Carmilla make a graceful landing then headed straight for you. You tried to shoot her only to find out you ran out of bullets. You threw the guns then drew your katanas. Just as she strikes you swung your katana. All you managed to do was give her a shallow cut. The only thing you could do was fight her head on. Although, you were trying your damned hardest to get her away from you. Carmilla nearly took your eye out as you dodged her strike. You cut her abdomen earning a scream from her. 

You don’t know how but you managed to hide from Carmilla. You were lying under a subway. Trying to breathe without making too much noise. You were more than certain you wouldn’t last much longer. You severely underestimated Carmilla’s abilities and strength. You never encountered a demon like her. Not one with strength like hers. The other Soul Snatchers you encountered were nothing compared to her. This mission is way more than you could handle. You would bet your client kept as much information to himself because he knew this. Fucking bastard. You would demand more from him once you were done with this bullshit.

You tried to think of everything you could do to end her. Not much came to mind. If anything, it was to retreat and find V. Except you knew Carmilla would never let you get away...alive. As if the wind was passing, Carmilla was right next to you. She threw the subway you were under out of her way. You bolted from your lying position, preparing for whatever came next. Carmilla threw you against the subway. You couldn’t get up; continue fighting. All you could do was sit up and wait for your demise. But one last idea came to you. It was more than likely not going to work but it was better than doing nothing. Carmilla made her way to you, chuckling. She was more than certain she won this fight.

When Carmilla was close enough, you used the last of your strength to lift yourself up. One last time you cut her hoping this fight would end. Unexpectedly, something pierced through her heart. (Whatever pierced her, cut you pretty deep.) Carmilla’s body fell once the object was removed from her. You collapsed onto the ground, landing in a puddle of Carmilla’s blood. Her lifeless body was facing you. Her strawberry blonde hair now dyed crimson red. Her empty expression staring into your soul. 

“(Y/N)!” V’s voice was replaced by purring. An all too familiar tongue was licking you. You wanted to repay the kind gesture with a scratch behind Shadow’s ears. You couldn’t move. You were beaten and exhausted. All you could hear was V saying your name and begging you to stay with him as you lost consciousness.

You could hear V reading from his book. He was trying to read loud enough for you to hear without grabbing the attention of any nearby demons. Slowly you opened your eyes to a petite candle’s flame. You gingerly sat yourself up. The pain from your fight with Carmilla caused you to take a sharp breath. All you wanted to do was stretch your arms. You were not going to enjoy the next few weeks with the condition you were in. “Fuck.” 

“Don’t push yourself.” V closed his book then looked at you. His gentle green eyes stared at you. You gave him a small smile then winced. You were starting to feel the aches your slumber numbed. V almost shot out of his seat to help you. You forced him back down when you hugged him. V hugged you back, pulling you into his lap. Your face was buried in his neck. His was buried in your hair. Both of you sat still letting your hug express what you were feeling.

V brushed your hair behind your ear then kissed your forehead. His head slightly dipped to peck your lips. You kissed him back wanting to deepen it. V pulled away. He did not want you doing anything that would further harm you. You complied by going back onto the “bed”. You scooched to the side so V could join you. You laid your head on his shoulder while he resumed reading poetry to you. Loosely you wrapped your arms around one of V’s. You glanced up at him noting a hint of a smile from him. You never wanted this moment to end.

Ruffling, shuffling and Griffon’s voice instantly woke you. You immediately thought you were getting attacked. Seeing Shadow lying on the “bed” said otherwise. Thank, god. You found V getting ready to leave. You were saddened but you knew V had to go after Urizen. Thinking about when you and V met made you giggle. V gave you a questioning look. “It seems I made the right call with my counter offer. Don’t you think?’

“Indeed.” V gave you a bittersweet smile.

“Having second thoughts?”

“...Not for the reason you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“...After today, you will never see me again…Remember?”

“Y-yeah, I remember…” You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. You wanted V to stay with you and you could sense he wanted to stay with you. Both of you knew you couldn’t stay with each other. You were still healing. V would die if he chose to stay with you instead of going after Urizen. “So, this is ‘goodbye’?”

“I am afraid so.” V gave you one of his rings so you would remember him. He gave you one last kiss then made his departure. You couldn’t look away from him as he got further away from you.

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 8/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

"Oh, it's gorgeous!" Kyrie gushes.

Lir smiles at her, still holding the dress up to her shoulders. The wedding gown—something she's had to get used to saying, the disbelief that this is actually happening not quite gone yet—is only halfway done, with sections pinned together, but the sentiment is sweet. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course! It's going to be beautiful on you, I can tell." Putting the bundle in her arms on the foot of the bed, Kyrie crosses the room to run her fingers over the silk of the bodice. "I might have to ask you to make mine, if . . ."

A blush stains her cheeks as she falls silent. "If Nero ever proproses?" Lir prods, gently, and she nods. "I'm certain he will. You two have been together for some time now, haven't you?"

"Unofficially. yes. Officially, only about a year or so. Are you going to add lace?"

Lir carefully carries the gown over to the mannequin and hangs it. All of these things, the fabric, the doll, the sewing equipment, had been sent by her mother, along with a pattern and strict instructions not to deviate from it. Her little rebellion is the red beads she intends to sew into the edges of the veil. "Yes. The skirt and bodice will both have lace."

"Well, how can I help?" Kyrie asks. "I know a bit of sewing, but you can give me directions."

"You can help me pin the bottom hem if that's alright," she replies.

Kyrie agrees, and the two work together to put the straight pins in to fix the rough edge. Once that is completed, Kyrie helps her slide the dress on so she can make adjustments and ensure the bottom is even. Lir stands on a chair, watching Kyrie work in the mirror, trying to keep herself from feeling excited.

At least, not too excited. Her parents had been thrilled with the news, and it was little trouble to arrange for some food and refreshments with the money they sent. The wedding and ceremony were going to take place right in the Devil May Cry, and Lir had spent the better part of two weeks getting the place ready with deep cleaning, some fresh paint, and repairs. Dante had humored her well enough, even going so far to help when she asked, but he did not seem to share her enthusiasm.

Kyrie is just finishing up when there is a knock on the door. "Don't come in!" Kyrie shouts, but Dante already has the door open. She hurries over waving her hands. "Don't look! It's bad luck!"

"It's not like I haven't seen her befo—ow, ow! Okay!" He enters with his eyes closed, rubbing the tip of his nose. From what she'd heard, Lir gathers that Kyrie had accidentally caught him there with the door. "I came to see if you ladies needed anything. Nero an' I are goin' out to grab some of that paint you asked for, Lir, and I was thinkin' we'd get dinner and bring it home, too."

"That would be wonderful!" It's these small moments of thoughtfulness, more than anything else, that fill her with a bittersweet ache. They make her happy, certainly, but with them come the what-ifs that she doesn't want to consider: what if they had met under different circumstances, what if they could love each other like they did in the movies? "Where were you thinking?"

"Mm, no clue. 'S why I came up to ask you two."

Kyrie presses her hands together. "I could really go for a cheeseburger right now, with some fries and extra bacon. What about you, Lir?"

"Uh . . ." She catches sight of the hopeful cast to Dante's features. "It sounds great, actually! I'm famished."

"Okay." Kyrie moves back to her, but Lir spies Dante peeking through his fingers. "The dress looks nice," he says, but skirts out the door when Kyrie yelps at him.

Lir is laughing when she turns back to the dress with an annoyed huff. "I don't know how it is you two ended up together," Kyrie chuckles, "but thank goodness. I don't know anyone else who could put up with him for very long."

She pauses in smoothing a wrinkle from the waist, her heart in her throat and her mouth dry. Nero knows, at least in part, why she's here. Dante had told him it was an arranged marriage, and left it at that. Had Nero not informed Kyrie? Should she? Instead, she clears her throat and asks, "Is he truly that difficult to be around?"

". . . No, not . . . not exactly." Glancing in the mirror reveals Kyrie looking at her hands, clasping them slowly in front of her. "I don't know him that well, if I'm honest. I wasn't conscious for a lot of what happened in Fortuna, and he didn't stick around for very long once it was done. It's only been in the past few months that he's really become more of a fixture in our lives outside of showing Nero the ropes, but . . ."

Her gaze lifts to fix on Lir's through the glass. "He's suffered, I think. So, he shuts people out, and closes himself off. It's easier if he doesn't get attached, because he's the only one like himself, you know? So, he's lonely, but he can't do anything about it. Nero was the same way for a long time. Now that we have the orphanage, he's a bit more settled, but both of them are like . . . dogs that have been abused. They're angry, and hurting, and lash out to drive others off."

"Sounds about right," Lir murmurs.

By the time they are finished with the hemming, the guys are downstairs and calling up for them. Kyrie helps her replace the dress and Lir quickly gets dressed before heading downstairs.

They have set up the food on the table in the sitting area. Nero and Kyrie sit on the floor, so Lir steps over Dante's legs to take a spot on the couch next to him. Nero hands her a takeout container that has her burger and fries inside, and Lir digs in. She still isn't used to all of the fried and greasy goodness, marveling how delicious everything is.

"Can't believe you two are really doing this," Nero says. "A few weeks ago it seemed like you didn't want it at all."

"What can I say? Things change." Lir watches as Dante steadfastly picks the pickles off his burger with a frown, smiling a little at the gesture. "A few weeks ago, I didn't know I had a laundry room, if we're listing them."

Nero rolls his eyes. "There's a difference between that and getting hitched. You okay?" He asks Lir. "He didn't blackmail you or anything, did he?"

Beneath the teasing, there's a genuine concern, and she sets her burger down. "No, nothing like that. We just talked about it, that's all. Although I don't think he could threaten me even if he tried. He's too nice for that."

"Don't tell him that," Dante complains, and she laughs.

"Your family is coming, Lir?" Kyrie asks.

She nods, dabbing her face with a napkin. "My parents and my sisters will be here. And some members from our . . . town." 

"That's so nice," she says. "It's too bad you don't have any family nearby, Dante."

"Yeah . . ." He scratches his head, as if nervously, and Lir frowns. "Speaking of which," Dante says, "Nero, you want to do me a solid and be my guy? Thing? For the wedding?"

Nero frowns. "You mean best man? Why me?"

"Who else am I gonna ask? Morrison?" Dante snorts. "You're the only one I've really spent time with outside of work, and you've got a good head on your shoulders. Besides, you'd be doin' me a favor, which means . . ." He grimaces. "I'd owe you one." 

Nero laughs a bit evilly, but a quick elbow from Kyrie has him swallowing that down. "Sure, yeah, no problem." Then he glances at Lir. "Do I gotta wear a tux or something?"

Lir laughs and shakes her head. "No, it's casual. Just whatever you're comfortable in."

They continue their meal amiably, and Kyrie and Lir discuss some of the details with the other two chiming in with jokes. Once the food is done and cleaned up, Nero steers Kyrie to the door. "Gotta get home before the sitter costs us an arm and a leg," he says. "Hey Dante, I'll be back on Saturday if you need more help."

"Yup," he says, and they say their goodbyes as the couple leaves.

Dante stands next to her by the door, and she looks up as he looks down. "I should probably get started on the painting," he says.

"Actually," Lir replies before he can walk away, "there's something I've been thinking about. That I think we need to discuss."

He makes a face. "I'm already marrying you, what else could you possibly need?"

She gives him a look and he chuckles at his joke. "Fine, fine. What is it?"

"Come sit," she says, butterflies in her stomach as he heads back to the couch.

Once they're settled on the cushions, Dante in his usual sprawl and her with feet tucked under her, she finds it hard to speak. She's been thinking about this for days, and it feels important, yet now that the opportunity has come up to suggest it, nerves leave her struggling for the right words. Dante tilts his head to study her, his amiable expression shifting to concern. "Hey, what's buggin' you? You've got a funny look on your face."

"Do I?" Lir touches her cheeks, then drops her hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He frowns. "Is it serious? Gotta be honest, you're starting to make me a bit nervous."

Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt, a habit she's picked up since living here that's more liberating than she'd thought it would be when her mother had drilled it out of her. "I think it is, but maybe it's not. It's just . . . We have to convince everyone I've ever known that you and I are . . . Well, that we've been intimate to some degree. They'll expect it. My mother can be . . . difficult, but I've no doubts that she's told them how perfect we are for each other, if only because she doesn't want to feel like she failed to teach me properly."

"I'm not followin'." His brows furrow as he turns to face her fully. "I thought they didn't want us being, uh, intimate before the ceremony?"

"Not like that," she says quickly, "but I'm supposed to be your wife, right? So, they'll judge us based on that, and if something is amiss, they might . . . call it off and find someone else to set up with you."

"Could they?"

"I don't know, honestly. My older sisters are all married or engaged, and Ilya is too young. But they might, if they felt desperate enough, break one of the engagements. There's not a precedent, though, so I don't . . . I don't know."

Dante rolls his eyes, which makes her blush. "I'm marrying you. What more do these people want?"

She swallows the embarrassment she feels at that statement. She knows that he is doing this to keep the seal in its place, and out of obligation from Sparda's promise. Lir has not let herself think for even a moment that he was doing this because he wanted to, or for her, outside of the oath. He had said he liked having her around, and that was more than she could hope for.

Yet hearing his annoyance stings, so she hurries on, "They will want it authentic, I guess. You have to understand, this is our entire lives. Was, anyway. For hundreds upon hundreds of years, waiting for this union. And they have . . ." Lir can't meet his eyes as she murmurs, "Expectations."

"Expectations," he repeats, flatly.

Her entire face is burning now, but she presses on. "For how we'll act around one another, for how affectionate we'll be, particularly during the kiss and in the hours between the wedding and the ceremony." He says nothing, leaving her fumbling. "I thought we could practice."

"Practice what?" 

Lir cannot read his tone, which is why her reply comes out in a whisper. "Kissing one another."

"Uh . . . okay." Lir looks up at him in surprise, and Dante shrugs even as she notices the pink that tinges his neck. "I mean, if you think it will help."

"I just thought if the wedding was our first time kissing, it would be awkward, you know?" she says.

Dante nods vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah I can see that. You want to, uh . . . tell me what you want?"

Lir blinks, debating. She hadn't actually expected him to agree, not completely, so she tries to figure out what to do. She slides towards him, kneeling on the couch, and Dante sits up, his arm draped across the back as he leans towards her.

She places her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. "Like this?" she whispers, and presses her lips to his.

Dante is frozen under her, and she counts to three before pulling away. Her heart is pounding despite the brevity of the kiss, and she licks her lips as she glances between his eyes. "Was that okay?"

"Yeah," he answers, his gaze darting to her mouth. "But why not something more . . ."

"More?"

"Yeah. More."

"I don't understand," she murmurs.

He nods, and then she feels one of his hands at the base of her neck, his fingers sliding through her hair and pulling the tie away so it falls around her face. "You should wear it down," he says, "for the ceremony. It looks nice." 

There is something there, in his tone, in his eyes, that she does not recognize, yet it makes her pulse race all the same. "Okay."

Dante smiles faintly, his thumb smoothing over her cheek. "Do you remember what we talked about? Before, when I asked you to marry me for real." Hesitant, she nods, and his other arm curls around her waist, holding her against him. "You make that easy to forget sometimes."

Make what easy to forget, she wants to ask, but she can't, because he tugs her back down, sealing his mouth over hers. The grip on her head and her back make her feel safe, and there's the familiar scent of him in her nose, soap and aftershave and a hint of something spicy, like curry, and her heart is in her throat as he kisses her again, and again. Each one is soft, slow, just his lips meeting hers carefully, and Lir tilts her head to make it more comfortable.

The palm on her back pulls her closer so she is halfway laying on top of him as the hand in her hair begins to stroke the locks. The combination is intoxicating, and Lir sighs into his mouth, her hands clenching against his shirt. Dante pulls on her lips and she sinks against him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders.

He pauses, their lips barely touching. "Is this—?"

"Yeah," Lir quickly says. "Can we try it again?"

He lets out a laugh that is half a groan before guiding her back down, and she presses against him eagerly. She has read about this before, both in the books she was allowed and the ones she and her friends would hide, the ones where sex was both wonderful and terrible, but she's never experienced it, and she drinks the sensations in almost greedily. His lips are softer than they look, somehow, not unlike the silk from which she's making her dress, and she nibbles on one, and then the other, until he huffs and draws her in to kiss her properly.

Dante sinks into the cushions, and Lir follows eagerly. She tilts her face as she slides her hands into his hair, tugging on the strands as he does the same to her. She can feel the hand on her back move to her hip, and Lir adjusts one leg, lifting her knee to press on his hip to allow him to feel her thigh. He gives a sound that sends a flutter straight through her, and as his mouth opens she dips her tongue inside, sucking in a tight breath when it meets his.

But then Dante responds aggressively, rolling his tongue into her mouth, licking slowly. His hand grips the back of her thigh, his fingers digging into the denim, and Lir starts to touch him in turn, running her fingers along his neck and shoulders and down the wide expanse of his chest. It is overwhelming, but in the most thrilling and delicious way, and every time Dante makes a noise in his throat she feels it reverberate to her core.

She grips his shirt, using it as leverage to close the nonexistent space between them. All she wants is be closer to him, to bask in the warmth that's radiating from him like a furnace. "Dante," she whispers, and doesn't recognize the pitch of her own voice.

He growls against her lips. The world rocks, shifts, and she is on her back, his thigh wedged between hers, his mouth hot and insistent against her own, his body caging hers to the cushions. 

Lir reaches up and presses her palms to his face, the stubble along his jaw scratching her skin. Their lips slant as they deepen the kiss, but when she hears a rip in the leather, it jolts her awake from the kiss. She pulls away, her head hitting the cushion, and they stare at one another in shock. "Sorry, sorry—" he says, practically scrambling off of her.

"No, it was me," she pleads, quickly sitting up. Her eyes fall to the side, heat flushing her face, and she sees the leather of the couch is ripped. Did he do that?"

She glances back and finds him sitting on the edge, sucking in deep breaths. "You okay?" she asks, biting her lip.

"I should be askin' you that." He looks at her, and she thinks there's a flicker of red within his pupils. But it's gone when she leans closer to see. "You alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"What? No! I . . . I enjoyed that." She smiles at him shyly.

"You did?" Dante seems surprised, so she nods with a chuckle.

"Okay," he says, and then grins. He looks utterly charming, and Lir smiles back. "Okay. But maybe we shouldn't do it like that at the wedding."

Lir laughs and shakes her head. "Probably not at that ceremony, no."

The statement sobers them both completely, and they look at one another before looking away. The air is awkward now; Lir wishes they could go back two minutes to when she was in his arms, or better ten, before she had asked him for a kiss.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Lir needs to go to bed. It's late after a busy day, and she's showered and in pajamas already, teeth and hair brushed, clothes put away, shoes neatly placed by the bedroom door. Her room has been tidied and downstairs the dishes are finishing their cycle in the dishwasher, the shop and the city falling into quiet as it slows down for the night.

But she sits on her bed and stares at the wall in a daze. Every time Lir begins a task, she ends up drifting away, feeling Dante's lips on hers, his hands on her, sinking into the leather couch as he covered her body with his strong one and rocked against her. Her heart skips a beat, snapping her out of it, and Lir blushes furiously, chastising herself for drifting away in a daydream again. It's been like this all evening, ever since she cleaned up downstairs and went to her room, desperate for some space so she could figure things out.

It seems foolish to get her hopes up after something as mundane as a kiss, yet Dante had, quite literally, taken her breath away, and those emotions that she tries to ignore are all the louder now. What happened to the girl who scoffed at those silly, passionate books and the unrealistic expectations they set? Her eyes drop to her lap, where an unfinished bit of knitting rests. Once completed, it will become a quilt that sits at the foot of their marital bed, and she had chosen a red yarn as similar to the color of his coat as she could find.

Only now the act of making it is less obligation and more desire. She has come to treasure the sight of his smile and the sound of his laugh; will this earn one of those from him?

Or, perhaps, another of those kisses?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mutters, jumping up to shove the knitting into a drawer. She needs to go to bed, get some sleep, and forget about all this. Her feelings will only complicate things, and with the wedding and ceremony in just a few days' time, there is too much to do for distractions.

But before she can climb into bed, Lir knows she won't sleep. A bit of milk will do the trick, she figures, moving to her door to listen. It's been quiet downstairs, so she figures Dante must have gone to bed while she was in the shower. It's almost midnight, so she quietly slips out her door and heads towards the stairs with a glance at his room.

There's no light underneath the bottom of the door, so she breathes a sigh of relief. But when she turns to the top of the steps, Dante is there, and Lir yelps, nearly jumping out of her skin in surprise. "Sorry!" he laughs. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I wasn't . . . What are you doing?" she asks.

"Finishing up that painting. Wanted it to be done for you to see tomorrow. I was just gonna go shower and get to bed myself . . ." His voice drifts off as he rubs the back of his neck, climbing up the last step. "Sorry for scaring you."

"Scaring me?" she echoes. "Why would you think that?"

"Bout hit the roof," he chuckles. "Can't believe you didn't hear me climbing the steps."

"I guess I'm used to you now," Lir replies.

They stare at each other awkwardly. Her face heats up every time she glances his way, thinking about that stupid kiss. Dante is frowning, and she wonders if it's because he's annoyed, or if he feels as strange as she does. She opens her mouth and begins to say, "I was heading downstairs," just as he says, "Is everything okay?" They both laugh, the tension dissolving a tiny bit, and Lir smiles at him.

"Ladies first," he chuckles.

She gestures to the stairs. "I was just going down for a glass of milk. Would you like one?"

"Bit late for milk, isn't it?" 

"It always helps me sleep." Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits for his answer, and that's something else that she has to learn to control: these odd, flaring reactions to his presence, his voice. They'll only make this harder on both of them in the end.

Dante looks her over. "Trouble sleeping?"

Lir swallows. "Yeah. Just can't get comfortable, I think."

He nods. She expects him to say goodnight, but instead he doesn't move out of her way; instead, he leans on the railing. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Um." Uncertain of how to respond, she only stares at him, and the longer the silence drags the more forced his smile becomes, until it's nearly a grimace. "You could . . . sit with me?"

"Sit, huh?" Dante looks visibly nervous, and Lir curses herself for such a stupid request.

"You don't have to," she says quickly. "I'm really fine."

"No, no, I'll do it, uh . . . Sit, hm?" He glances at his bedroom door. "Let me wash off this paint and I'll come and . . . sit."

He steps around her, and Lir watches him hurry into his room and shut the door. Feeling like an idiot, she goes to the kitchen, keeping all but the light over the stove off as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. She decides to opt for hot chocolate instead of the milk, and in a few minutes she is pouring hot water into the mugs over two packets of cocoa mix.

Dante walks in as she tops them both off with a bit of creamer. "Haven't had this since I was a kid," he laughs as she hands him a mug.

He must have showered, because his hair is damp, and his t-shirt clings to his shoulders a bit. Lir feels a bit weak, not really understanding why, but she only nods as she sits next to him at the kitchen table.

She watches nervously as he takes a sip. He pauses with the mug still pressed to his lips, and his eyes widen a fraction before sliding closed as a hum reverberates from his chest. "Damn," he mumbles, "I hate to say that's better than what Mom used to make, but it's pretty close."

Relief fills her, and Lir relaxes against her chair, taking a careful drink from her own cocoa. The silence that descends between them is amiable, comfortable, broken only by the ticking of the clock over the door; it's the little moments like these, where the world is quiet and it feels like it's only the two of them in it, that make it so much harder to ignore the thoughts that have swirled around her lately. Yet, unlike usual, they don't feel foolish or suffocating. Merely there, and she smiles a bit to herself as she studies him, thinking that marrying him won't be so bad.

[buns-with-a-book]

The Night of the Long Vigil

For Day Three of DMCWeek2020, the prompt filled this time was Fight! And there is a fight here alright! Just thrown waaaay in the past.

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: OC, Kyrie, Vergil, Kyle, Julio, Carlo (mentioned) Dante (cameo), Nero (cameo), Sparda (flashback) Tags: @furyeclipse @nimnox @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate @queenmuzz @astral-space-dragon

Summary: One Christmas Eve, Cassandra tells the tale of the Midnight Vigil to Cordelia, Julio, Kyle, and Carlo (with the rest of the crew listening in)

Cassandra would never get tired of Christmas celebrations. And this Christmas Eve was looking to be the best one yet. The cool winter nights of Fortuna was a far cry from Red Grave City, blanketed by snow. Cassandra watched as the three boys, Julio, Kyle, and Carlo, ran around Dante and Nero with their limitless energy. Cordelia was helping Kyrie with making the cake for dessert. Cassandra knew Cordelia was easily overwhelmed by too much energy and the three boys Kyrie and Nero were fostering were nothing but high energy.

“Dove? Is it done now?” Cordelia asked, looking to Kyrie. On the counter was the cake tin, full of chocolate cake batter and ready to be cooked. Kyrie smiled and nodded.

“It’s ready to go into the oven.” She hummed. She pulled on oven mitts and carefully took the cake tin to place in the oven. Cordelia stared out the kitchen window, watching Dante and Nero play with the boys.

“They’re a bit much…” Cordelia murmured. Kyrie gently stroked her hair.

“I understand. But I care about them deeply. I wouldn’t give up their energy for the world.” Kyrie smiled to Cordelia.

“And their energy can tire out Dante and Nero. I’ll take sleepy Dante anyday.” Cassandra joked. “Hmm...man, this brings back memories.” She murmured.

“Memories of what?” Kyrie asked. Cassandra blinked.

“Er...well…” She looked to Cordelia. “It’s a tradition from Eternis Brillia.” She began. Cordelia looked at her in confusion. Relaxing, Cassandra continued. “In Eternis Brillia, the concept of Christmas being all holly jolly isn’t a thing. Christmas Eve is known as The Night of the Midnight Vigil while Christmas Day is known as Dawning Day. It’s to celebrate the founding of the city, the day where the titular saints defended what would become the city from the Prince of Darkness and his armies.”

“Oh my…” Kyrie murmured in awe.

“Well, I should add an ‘allegedly’ to that. The only primary source of that time is an epic poem, The Night of the Midnight Vigil. Whether that poem is a legitimate primary source or propaganda is anyone’s guess.” Cassandra shrugged. “Regardless, the whole event is somber to remember those who died to help found the city. It’s also to ‘keep vigil’ for an incoming army of demons, just like the first watchers did long ago.”

"Demons like me and our family?" Cordelia asked sadly. Cassandra grimaced before looking out the window.

“...yes. But! They believe so fervently that everything outside of their walls is evil that they don’t even think about stepping foot outside. I doubt they’ll come all the way to Red Grave City or Fortuna.” Cassandra smiled at Cordelia. She knew that the people of Eternis Brillia never dreamed of stepping outside their walls, content with their lives behind them. “We’ll be just fine.”

“Okie.” She nodded. Cassandra looked out the window, watching as the boys stumbled on in, tired from their roughhousing. Dante and Nero flopped down on the couch, flanking Vergil (who had been quietly sipping tea Kyrie offered him). The three boys ran to the kitchen for water to rehydrate. Cordelia got off the stepstool she used to help Kyrie make the cake and ran over to Dante, curling up in his lap. Dante let out a pleased hum, holding the spirit child close and purring happily.

“Cassandra?” Vergil asked. She perked up, walking over to him. “Perhaps you can regale us with more of Dawning Day. I have never heard of such a celebration before.”

“Makes sense.” Cassandra said, making a cup of warm tea. “It’s basically Christmas but somber and serious. As Dante would so eloquently put it, boring. It’s all ritual, Latin songs that are older than all of us combined, and all in a freezing cold cathedral with no heating.”

“It sounds much like the Winter Solstice celebration.” Kyrie added. “But now that Fortuna has opened up to the world, that includes the Christmas traditions. I vastly prefer being here than at the church.”

“I think you mentioned that you had to sing for the ceremonies?” Cassandra asked. Kyrie nodded. “I can see how Nero would come and attend, just to hear you sing.” She ignored the awkward squawk she got from her adopted son. Kyrie laughed and nodded.

“I remember Nero always giving me a chocolate orange after my performances.” Kyrie hummed nostalgically. “He’s so sweet.”

“I know right?” Cassandra chuckled, taking the warm mug of tea. She walked over to the plush chair, ruffling Nero’s silver hair as she went. Taking a seat, she let out a sigh.

“I’m more interested in this epic poem you spoke of.” Vergil spoke up again. Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose you would, considering it deals with the defeat of the Prince of Darkness.” She looked to Dante, knowing full well his inner devil revealed her saying his true name. “The Tale of the Midnight Vigil is basically the Anead of Eternis Brillia. Allegedly, it comes before the Legendary Dark Knight awoke to justice. I know some even say that this moment was when that awakening happened but…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know the tale…”

Demons and humans screamed out their battle cries, rain pouring around the armored saint. Mud splattered from the combat around them, tainted red and black from blood.

But for Deirdre, armored in silver and white silken filaments, her golden hair braided with silk and silver spikes, there was only one object between her and the Prince of Darkness: Sparda, the prince’s favored general. Infernal simmering red met calm determined blue. Deirdre tightened her grip on the divine rapier Astra, faintly glowing with the power of the Earthmother. Sparda let out a low growl, tightening his grip on his eponymous sword. The world seemed to freeze around them, as if demons and mortal affairs mattered little to the two warriors, trying to intimidate the other into stepping down, into giving up and letting the demons rip apart the last bastion of humanity in the Highlands.

Then, a booming voice behind Sparda, speaking in the demonic tongue. Deirdre glanced up to the demon prince, his stone form reaching over and uttering a command to his general. Sparda charged forward, Deirdre deflecting the greatsword with Astra. The two blades strained against each other before Deirdre thrust her shield forward, breaking the stalemate between them before she thrust Astra forward. Sparda deflected the thrust and countered with his own thrust, to which Deirdre dodged by jumping to the side. Sparda swiped his blade to her, deflected once again by Deirdre’s Astra.

‘There’s no way I can defeat Sparda! Unless…’ She glanced back before smirking. She let Sparda push her back, flipping backward. Sparda thrust forward with his blade. She leapt up, landing on the edge of the blade before using it as a springboard. She turned, facing Mundus, before blazing blue stars hovered next to her hand. She threw the stars forward, striking Mundus’ wings with force. The prince roared in indignation, his wings cracking and visibly breaking off. Deirdre fell, her bloodied Clydesdale Fionn leaping out from the mass of demons to break her fall. She clung onto his bloodied mane as he rode through the demon masses and trampling them underfoot. Mundus roared out some sort of command. Whatever it was, the demons began to retreat enmasse. The soldiers of Eternis Brillia followed, slaying the stragglers.

Deirdre watched as Sparda looked back at her, still standing, still strong as ever. She felt the rain wash the sweat off her, her chest heaving. She patted Fionn’s neck with a tired smile.

“Good boy. You did well.”

“And thus, the demonic armies were sent away and Eternis Brillia lived to see another sunrise.” She finished the tale. She looked down at the three boys, eyes wide at the tale. “Of course, that’s just an epic poem. Who knows if the battle happened as it was written? That poem was written down centuries after the battle.” Cassandra rubbed the scar on her hand, the scar of Astra’s shattering.

“Wooow...that was so cool!” Julio said.

“What happened to Miss Deirdre?” Kyle asked.

“She became the first Archbishop of the Earthfaith. She ruled Eternis Brillia with her fellow Maidens: Eirika, Sigrun, Leanne, and Julia. She became a saint-like figure in the mythology of the Earthfaith.” She explained.

“Do you think she’s proud of you?” Julio asked. Cassandra made a face. She hadn’t even considered that sort of possibility, even when they met in the Green Fields. She was quiet from the question. “Miss Cassandra?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not going to vy for her pride. The choices I made were all mine and I’m not going to apologize for them.” Her eyes caught Vergil’s, who she noted was staring quite intently at her. The oven suddenly rang out, earning a cheer from the three boys.

“Cake’s ready!” Kyrie called, leaning down to take the cake out of the oven. Dante let out a whoop, lifting up Cordelia in his arms. Nero followed the boys into the kitchen, leaving her and Vergil where they sat.

“Vergil?” Cassandra asked, standing up. Vergil did the same and walked over to her, giving her a hug. “What’s with the sudden affection?”

“Do you ever regret anything you did?” He asked softly. Cassandra lowered her head.

“Well...probably that I didn’t see Cordelia sooner. That’s the only thing I really feel sorry for. Perhaps she would’ve been less lonely if I had seen her before...you know, everything.” He hummed, lowering his head to rest his lips against her head.

“There are many things I regret in my life…” He admitted, so soft she could barely hear him. “Key among them being absent for Nero. Your bravery still inspires me.”

“Bravery?” Cassandra asked, a smile on her lips. “Well, you can’t change the past unless you wanna fuck up the future, so I said to myself ‘make the most out of every day, because you can’t change what you’ve done’. I can’t change the fact I ran away from home for the unknown so I made the best of each day I had out here.” She explained. “You just...have to keep going. No matter what happens. Because when it’s out there, you can’t take it back. Words and actions.” Vergil nodded.

“I see.” He looked up. “Shall we go have cake?”

“Before the boys eat it all? Yes.”

[shianhygge-imagines]

[DMC Reactions] S/O Sacrifice

AN: Ooooh Angst. So early in the morning :D I’m writing this in an internet cafe.

Also, I’m sorry, but the first thing that came to mind when I read the request was the scene above where Dante’s VA had the voice crack. lmao

Real talk though. Vergil and Dante’s part is longer because I feel like they would be the two that would slip up this badly where their lover would sacrifice themself. V and Nero are too responsible.

|Masterlist Link|

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

Dante

Dante had gotten too cocky while fighting multiple opponents, again.

Not that it should surprise you too much, but he’d allowed too many of the demons to land hits on him, and his clothes were practically littered with holes from the weapons skewering him...

His s/o had been by his side since the beginning, so it was a given that they’d tagged along with Dante to a new gig

Dante didn’t see the scissors waiting to snip his pretty head off, but you did.

In the blink of an eye, you’d parried the blow aimed at you and had sprinted across the room to shove Dante out of the way.

Dante turned as he tumbled towards the ground, and his eyes widened helplessly as you smiled, the scissor edges closing in at the perfect height to your neck.

snip... thud

It was like a car accident happening in slow motion, and Dante wasn’t able to look away... wasn’t able to pull the miracle that he was known for.

The world stopped spinning as Dante stared, face ashen as his lover’s head rolled away, and their body fell on top of his. A bad dream, Dante thought absently as he gripped your still body. It’s just a bad dream.

“I’m going to wake up, and Y/N will be sleeping right next to me.”

Dante blinked once... twice... and pinched himself... nothing.

The Death Scissor cackled maniacally, reveling in its kill.

“Not real. It’s not real,” Dante muttered, “Y/N... wake me up.”

You didn’t move... and Dante didn’t wake... his face scrunched up as he stood, sobbing as he pulled Rebellion out, an inconsolable rage consuming him.

Maybe if he killed the Death Scissor, he’d wake up...

Neither of you woke up.

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

Vergil

Vergil had been too obsessed with some fascinating/challenging opponent that he forgot to watch your back.

In the brief lapse of his attention, you’d been swarmed by lesser demons

Although you were much stronger than the runts, you started to have trouble from the immense number of them

“Vergil!” You’d called, jumping away from one demon’s attack only to have to evade another. The screeches of dying demons rose above your cry for help and you cursed your luck as you rolled out of the way to jump over the seemingly endless horde of demons.

Ahead, Vergil was taking on a demon that resembled a Chimera, though far too ugly for you to admire. It seemed as if your lover was having a ton of fun, his smirk noticeable from even where you stood.

The Chimera howled in pain as Vergil assaulted its torso with swift cuts from the Yamato, and suddenly the lesser demons turned their attention away from you, scurrying to protect their master, hundreds of them sprinting after Vergil... wanting... needing to tear the older son of Sparda apart.

Even though Vergil hadn’t had your back, you had his.

It didn’t take much for you to beat the horde in the race to Vergil, most of the demons were considerably sluggish compared to your agility.

You were suddenly stood between the horde of demons and Vergil, blade and gun drawn, ready to take on the forces of the underworld to prevent them from interrupting Vergil’s fun.

Slowly but surely, however, you began to wear down, unable to keep up with the seemingly endless number of demons that spawned from nowhere. One misstep was all it took for the demons to overwhelm you, pouncing, and burying you underneath their blows.

“Vergil!” You tried to call for your lover, reaching a hand out to him from within the swarm. Vergil, too consumed with his challenge, didn’t turn around.

All around, you could only see black shadows and glowing red eyes. There was no blue to save you.

Vergil grinned as he cut down the Chimera, flicking the Yamato free of blood before turning to look for your proud and loving eyes.

What Vergil saw instead, was the swarm of demons seemingly piled on top of a limp figure. The grin disappeared from the older son of Sparda as dread and rage overflowed. There was a flash of blue as Vergil entered his Devil Trigger, mowing down the lesser demons as if they were merely ants.

Once the pests were cleared, Vergil was able to reach your body, kneeling in his beautiful demonic form to lift your body, holding it to his as he called to you, hopeful that you would open your eyes and continue to breath.

After a few seconds, it became glaringly obvious to Vergil that you would never smile at him again.

After so many years of hiding his emotions away, Vergil felt his eyes burn, and allowed the tears to fall, his whole body shaking as he sobbed. 

“I’m sorry.” Vergil apologized, clutching your body close and knowing that it was his fault for selfishly leaving your side.

“Don’t leave me alone, Y/N. Please.”

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

Nero

Nero had insisted that you stay out of the fight, quite sure that the giant demon before him was too much for you.

I mean, you resented that Nero seemed to think so little of your skills (you could probably take on a greater demon because of your demon lineage), but you weren’t a fool to see that Nero obviously cared.

He’d never want to see you hurt.

But that’s a sentiment you both shared.

And you knew that Nero had a tendency to run his mouth during fights, probably acting a little too much like Dante at times... so you had a right to worry...

Though admittedly, Nero didn’t have a habit of getting stabbed with his own sword like Dante did, he still got too cocky and reckless.

And while Nero fought the giant, you were forced to keep a good distance away... and by a good distance away, that meant you were with Nico in the van... pretty much across the map

The giant demon was similar to the Goliath that Nero killed, but its hide was too thick for his Red Queen to simply slice through and its tail was long with something akin to a stinger... All too quickly, he’d run out of Devil Breakers, and was forced on the defense, no doubt charging his Devil Trigger.

Nico was sleeping, as she usually did when waiting for Nero to finish his fights, but you kept a keen eye on your lover.

A flash of blue was all you needed to alert you that Nero had used his Devil Trigger, but as you watched him fight, you noticed that while Nero gave the demon a beating, he couldn’t get his attacks to pierce through the hide.

“Tch... should’ve brought a Helter Skelter.” You mused, getting up from your seat to get to the workshop in the back of the van.

You took a Helter Skelter and a Ragtime from the hooks, making a mental note to pay Nico back, before grabbing your guns and bursting out of the van.

Activating your own Devil Trigger, you practically flew across the map to stop the Giant from landing a solid hit on Nero.

“Y/N, what the hell? I told you to stay back!”

Holding the Giant’s fist in place with one hand, you threw the two Devil Breakers at Nero, “Here, you dingus! Gotta pierce its hide before you can kill the thing!”

“I don’t need your help! Now get back to the van!”

“Don’t need help, my ass! Weren’t you the one that made a big deal about being called a ‘dead weight’? How could you think I’d be fine just standing around and twiddling my-” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your question. The giant pulled its fist back and rammed it towards your unsuspecting form, throwing you up into the air as its tail whipped forward, skewering you through the stomach.

“Y/N!”

You grit your teeth, knowing that you might survive if Nero finished the fight fast enough. “Damn it, Nero! Just kill the damn thing!”

Angry with the need to protect you, Nero was able to activate his Devil Trigger once more, fusing the Ragtime with his arm and slowing time. A blink, and suddenly you were no longer skewered, finding yourself in Nero’s arms as he walked away from the giant demon’s lifeless body.

“My hero” you teased, feeling the hole in your stomach already start to close.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But you love me for it!”

Nero placed a kiss to the crown of your head, an affectionate grin on his face. “I do.”

...

...

“But don’t you dare do that again!” :|

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

V

Despite V’s hesitance, he’d let you fight by his side, knowing that you had his back (and he yours).

Unlike the other Sparda Boys, V all but abandons full-time demon hunting after he meets you. Yes, you can totally kick ass, but with his growing feelings towards you, V has been made to wonder if there is an end to the conflict that he has been a part of his entire life.

So, V settled down with you, giving up the demon hunting business with you so that you two could have a future that would last. After all, the world had Vergil, Dante, and Nero as full time demon hunters, they didn’t need V.

Still, there are times where it was inevitable that you and V would have to fight demons.

It is one of these times where you and V were forced to fight against the forces of the underworld, that you and V found yourselves outnumbered and swarmed.

You could probably go a lot longer than was needed, but V was tiring rather quickly having to dodge the enemy attacks so much. The enemy forces were nearly gone, but V had started to get clumsy, trying to conserve energy as much as he could.

Even though Shadow, Griffon, and Nightmare did their best to keep their eyes on V, you couldn’t help the way your eyes followed him as you fought. You just wanted to be sure that V was safe.

And then... V dodged left when he should have had Griffon carry him out of the mess surrounding him.

A demon managed to land a blunt attack on V, sending him stumbling forward into another blunt attack, but you were already there to parry the blow, signalling Griffon to carry your lover out of the sticky situation.

So intent on helping V, you didn’t see the blade aimed at you. A cry of pain... from your lips or V’s you didn’t know. And you were thrown into the awaiting blades of other lesser demons.

V could hear your screams from where Griffon had carried him. He was exhausted, but used what remained of his energy to summon Nightmare, his only thought and intent: to save you.

It didn’t take much for the combined efforts of Nightmare, Shadow, and Griffon to decimate the enemies attacking you, clearing a path so that V could reach your battered, but still breathing form.

“Why would you do that?” V demanded, using what little strength he had to prop you up in his arms, noting that your breathing was strained.

“Heh... I thought I could take them on... if it meant saving you.” You responded with a grimace.

“Next time, we fight together.” It was a firm statement, but it meant so much to you.

“Ha... sure...” you agreed without a fight... “Hey, V?”

“Hm?”

“When we go home... I want a bath.”

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

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

[beyond-far-horizons]

How I Met Your Father...Part 2

With the Perfect Amulet taken and his legacy in jeopardy, Sparda marshals his forces to find the mysterious blonde thief, but she may have stolen more than just the Amulet...

My headcanon on how Eva and Sparda met. Please forgive any liberties, I have a fertile imagination and am not familiar with every aspect of the games. I also recommend listening to Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack to Angels and Demons whilst reading to give atmosphere.

Part One here

Heaven itself seemed to strike him as Sparda was forced to use Rebellion’s power to cut the Heavenly Seal in half. His true flesh writhed in agony beneath his human skin and his eyes were squeezed shut to avoid being permanently blinded. But over the force of divine retribution he heard the breaking of glass and both cursed and saluted the woman for her daring. Summoning his inner strength the Dark Knight briefly transformed into his real body to push the residual waves of the Seal back. Every one of them carried the force of her contempt.

That was quite a woman…

Shaking them off, he healed himself and let his human self return as he raced to the broken window and peered down. Shouts and the squeals of horses and cars told him of the commotion below but his demon senses confirmed she was gone, having miraculously survived the fall.

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, before turning around and taking in the devastation of the room. Yamato stood imperious on its stand but the rest of the artefacts were everywhere, the tapestries falling from the walls and the Chaldean Codex mere pages scattered across the floor.

That’s one more she owes me. He thought, running a hand through his silver hair. That’s the only surviving copy…

“My Lord!”

Ah, here comes the cavalry…

A contingent of his elite Guard stormed in headed by Crassus.

“My Lord.” He repeated, giving Sparda a deep bow. “Are you well? What happened here?”

“Quite well Crassus, thank you.” He fingered the bullet holes and burns on his favourite coat. It was divine work so he couldn’t salvage it. “My attire less so. Ask Manning to retrieve a change for me.”

“At once.” The commander nodded and another soldier raced off to find his butler, although given Manning’s demonic origins he was probably aware of the situation already. Sparda valued his humans but an infernal servant could be infinitely more useful at times.

“The guards at the back entrance reported a disturbance.” Crassus glanced at the shattered window and general disarray. “Was anything stolen? I take full responsibility.”

“Unnecessary, my friend.” Sparda replied. “The thief was prodigiously talented.” He traced his chest where Rebellion’s wound had healed.

“Thief?” Crassus said, aghast, and the Guards’ eyes widened.

Sparda summoned a scabbard for his claymore and placed it over his back. “Yes. The Perfect Amulet is gone.”

There were gasps. Sparda turned to them.

“It was a woman. Long, blonde hair in a braid, brown eyes, pale skin, dressed in black although I suspect she would have changed by now.”

She was too crafty by half to remain in recognisable clothes, if, of course, she was still able to move. And he would bet this whole treasury she was.

“Early twenties, I think.” He continued, pacing. “Trained in stealth and magical techniques, and given the state of the men outside the vault, I would say proficient with marshal arts as well as firearms.”

He shouldn’t have made that quip about Yamato to her, that had been tacky…

“We will put out a search immediately, my Lord. She will be found and the Amulet retrieved.”

The Guard snapped to attention behind their commanding officer.

“She wasn’t acting alone.” This was too fast, too well planned…I would have sensed scrying or a previous intrusion to scout. That meant footwork…human spies…“I want them found and I want them alive. Be aware they may possess the same capability as this assailant.”

Crassus saluted him. “They will not escape.”

“I put my faith in you, Commander.”

Crassus bowed and turned to go.

“Crassus? I trust you to do this with your usual discretion. The populace is on edge as it is.”

Half the reason for this damned recital had been to placate them…not that he didn’t enjoy the spectacle…

“Of course, my Lord.”

Boots pounded across the floor as the Guard sped off replaced by House soldiers and trusted servants tidying up the mess. Darion and Alecto had thankfully been attended to, but were no doubt going to be harangued by Niobe who looked ready to skewer them on her way past.

She dropped to one knee. “My Lord, I take full responsibility for this debacle.” She drew her sword. “If you wish for my life in recompense-”

“Captain,” he interrupted her, “you, Crassus and the rest may offer me deep and grovelling apologies to your heart’s content when this is all over, but for now I require the expertise and focus of my House soldiers.”

She came to attention with her usual alacrity.

“Have the building searched discreetly in case of accomplices, while the rest of you aid Crassus. I want Eleonora sent to me in my study in forty minutes as well.”

He needed his spymaster to confirm his suspicions and that saddened him. Which of his loyal and capable staff had been compromised?

“It will be done.”

Kalina Ann rushed in as Niobe left, still clad in her opera gown with its spectacular train flowing behind her.

“My Lord, what happened? I heard you were attacked!”

“I’m fine, Kalina.” He replied. Anyone would think Mundus and his legions had appeared. After all she, Niobe and Crassus all knew what he really was, it would take more than one human mage to achieve what the hoards of Hell could not. “Now why have you left the audience chamber? Our guests will be concerned.”

“I finished my aria.” The slight petulance in her voice told him he had been missed. “I was worried when you disappeared.” She looked about, dark eyes wide. “Who did this? They say the Amulet was taken?”

“Yes, ” he said, “now forgive me, but I must make efforts to retrieve it.”

“I can help.” She said, catching his arm. He glanced at her hand and she blushed, letting it fall. “You trained me well, my Lord. I can find this thief.”

“That would be an excellent idea - give them the second ingredient to break my spell, if that is their plan.”

The woman’s face flashed before his eyes again. With her sentiments, it was unlikely…so what was her game? She acted as if he was the villain, even when she knew his real name…

“I wouldn’t fall so easily into their hands.” Kalina was protesting.

Sparda sighed and focused his attention on her. She was about the age of the thief but despite equal passion, Kalina lacked the blonde woman’s maturity. That was his fault, he had pampered her too much.

“I do not doubt your abilities, my dear.” He said as he glanced up at the only tapestry which remained intact. Siriana’s transcendent face was forever a rebuke to him. Ten thousand years could pass and he would never forget what it felt like to plunge the Force Edge into her heart. “But I promised your ancestress two thousand years ago that I would protect her line in perpetuity.” He turned back to Kalina. “I cannot truly honour that pledge if I send you directly into danger now can I?”

“You intend to coddle me my entire life, then? She retorted, then bowed her head, the diamonds of her hair-net catching the light. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I only wish to serve you.”

“I know.” He said, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. “Then serve me in this. Return to the audience chamber for now and keep them quiet. Afterwards you can scry. Our absence will have been noted and sometimes diplomacy is a more potent weapon than the blade. And keep your ears open. I want to know all the gossip. Someone is behind this and they don’t just wield guns and spells.”

Her eyes widened again and she nodded, expression firming. “My Lord.” She said and swept out of the room, shoulders squared.

Sparda couldn’t help a slight smile. He would never have offspring but she was the closest thing he had to a daughter.

“Your Majesty.” A voice intoned in his mind.

“Leave me, all of you.” Sparda said to the remaining servants. When they closed the doors he turned as a skeletally thin old man emerged from the wall with a purple overcoat and new shirt. “Your Majesty? You always call me that.”

“I know my duty. You are the King of Hell whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.” The old man replied, holding out the clothing. “Do you require my assistance?”

“I think the King of Hell can manage to put on his own clothing.” Sparda chuckled as he took them. “And hiding my true identity should be your duty, but then we’ve had this conversation for centuries so there is no point in me arguing the matter yet again.”

A simple transformation had him back to his usual crisp self. He breathed a sigh of contentment. He was vain, there was no doubt, but vanity was a small sin for a devil of his rank.

Manning reached for the discarded items he’d let fall to the floor.

“I’ll keep those.” Sparda said quickly. “That will be all, apart from I need you to search the mansion. Let me know of any irregularities. ”

Manning raised a jutting eyebrow of white hair at his first statement but his creased yellow face smoothed at the second. “It has been done, Sire, there is nothing now the intruder has left.”

“Did you sense anything more at the time?”

“Nothing but a vague itch.” He wrinkled his large, hooked nose. “I swam through the levels but could not pinpoint it until a quarter of an hour ago.”

“When she dropped the spell.” Sparda nodded. “It was powerful work.” I’ll need to reroute Niobe’s troops then. The Amulet must be found!

Manning curled over himself, elongating his arms, hands and torso in supplication. It would have been freakish if Sparda hadn’t lived in the Underworld and gotten used to far worse. “Forgive me, your Majesty.” The butler said ponderously. “I should have seen through the enchantment.”

“Not you as well.” Sparda chided, waving a hand. “You confirmed my own feelings and I couldn’t penetrate the spell either. I just knew they would end up here. No matter.”

“I will keep you informed, your Majesty.” Manning said as he melded back into the plasterwork.

Finally alone again Sparda looked down at the ruined clothing then back at the shattered window.

So much trouble caused so quickly…He nudged a glass shard aside with a polished boot. I should be out there leading the search. That is my duty.

Capable as they were, he could find the golden-haired culprit a lot faster than his Guard or even Kalina with her ancestress’s seer abilities. In fact he could have leapt out of the window as soon as he recovered from the Seal and likely caught up with her.

So why didn’t you? A voice that sounded too much like Mundus said. Didn’t you enjoy the encounter?

The woman’s smile, her hair, the look in her eyes when she threw Rebellion all came back to him.

I always enjoy flirting with beautiful women. He thought and cursed himself and his wretched analytical mind that wasn’t going to leave it at that. He needed to act, Siriana’s legacy was at stake! Instead here he was navel-gazing, but he couldn’t stop the memories.

“Now I’ve given you my name, I believe it’s time for you to give me yours, Lady…?”

Her face in that moment…The dawning realisation, the abject horror…

Then the transmutation into iron conviction.

“I don’t care who you are or what you do to me. Humanity deserves to be free of your taint!”

Sparda closed his eyes. He had been alive for a long, long time. He had seen humankind rise and fall like waves of wheat to the harvest, but he had rarely beheld that quality of soul. It shone from her, far more radiant than her mortal body. Eternal and untouchable, it was a spark of the Divine he was forever denied.

How he hungered for it…

Glass crunched under his hands and he looked down surprised at the blood spurting between his fingers where he had grasped the window. A golden hair had caught itself on the jagged edge and curled into the breeze as if pointing in her direction. His pulse quickened.

That calibre of spirit could feed him for a century, more… He wouldn’t need all the power he had locked away in the Abyss if he had that, if he had her.

His human form flickered and fangs drew blood from his lips.

“I will not give into this.” He said and marched away from the broken panes. It had been millennia since he’d felt such temptation. He had left it all behind along with the Prince of Darkness and his ilk. Hadn’t he woken to justice and seen the suffering he had caused? Sworn to make a difference? Protected Humanity!

“You are a demon, Sparda,” Mundus had hissed, “just like your brethren. This sin of righteousness, so vile even I cannot feed on it, will wash off you eventually. All you need is the right trigger.”

He sucked in a breath and laughed at himself this time, the so called King of Hell afraid of one mortal woman.

You wouldn’t have to devour her…The voice wheedled. If she surrendered to you, body and soul, it could be pleasurable for you both.

“Enough!” He shouted to the empty chamber, the echoes of his wrath coming back to him.

Crassus would find her and put an end to this nonsense and if not…Sparda squeezed his fist together and looked up again at image of Siriana’s sacrifice. If not, I will show this woman that not all demons are a taint on humanity…

I’d be interested in your opinions on how I’ve woven in Lady’s mother and the different levels of Sparda’s character. I wanted him to be the suave, noble character we all admire but also wanted to see if he still struggled a bit with his demonic side especially when faced with the awesomeness that is Eva. #notalldemons lol I see Crassus btw as basically Credo. If I do set this in Fortuna (which I haven’t decided) then he could be Credo’s granddad or something! @fireeaglespirit and @awesomelychubby hope this lives up to Part 1!

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [10]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 10/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Lir hums to herself a bit as she flips the bacon in the pan, listening for signs that Dante is awake. She had been up since about dawn, laying in bed and watching the sun rise out the window, his arms still around her and holding her close against his body. 

The toast pops from the toaster so Lir piles the bacon onto a plate, quickly moving to crack several eggs into the pan before pulling the slices out carefully. When she turns, Dante is standing in the doorway in nothing but his boxer briefs, and he startles her so badly she yelps and nearly drops the food.

"Hey there!" he laughs, his reflexes like lightning as he jumps to grab the plates.

"Thanks," she says sheepishly, blushing a bit before turning back to the stove.

She listens to him set them on the table, and then his presence is back, hovering just behind her as she eyes the eggs and waits for them to be ready to turn. "Did you sleep well?" she asks.

He hums. "Yeah. Smells good in here."

"You always say that."

"It's true." Lir laughs softly to herself as she plates the eggs, and he insists, "You're a damn good cook. Course I'm gonna say it smells fucking amazing."

She takes the first batch of eggs to the table, Dante trailing after her. "I'm glad to hear it. The least I can do is make sure you're eating properly."

"The place doesn't look too trashed," he comments. "I wonder how long everyone stuck around."

"Not sure," she answers. When she turns, she nearly bumps into him again, and Lir looks up. Dante grins down at her, and she holds her breath, waiting to see what he will do. Will he kiss her? Hold her hand? Or will they go back to the way things were?

Her gaze drags over him, and she spies a red mark just above his right pectoral. Did she do that? Was she really that aggressive? Embarrassment floods her suddenly, setting her cheeks on fire. "Need some help?" he asks.

Lir's eyes dart away as she tries to look anywhere but his chest. "I don't think so," she answers in a tiny voice. "Why don't you sit?"

He hesitates, and her fingers find the edge of the shirt she'd stolen from his dresser and twist it. When she'd gotten up, she'd been sore in a way entirely new to her, and she'd taken a hot shower to relieve some of it and wash the small bit of blood and remnants of his seed from her thighs. While there, she'd noticed faint bruises on her hips, the same size and shape as his fingers, and she'd wondered at not feeling him gripping her so tightly. There were more, near the crease of her thigh, and a dark red mark beneath her ear.

They'd startled her at first, then pleased her. Now, though, as she waits for him to either say something or move, Lir finds herself wishing she'd used make-up to at least cover her neck, because she knows that he's more than likely displeased with how easily it formed. "Sure," he says, his tone unreadable. "Yeah. You, uh . . . You gonna eat?"

"Yes!" Lir spins and moves to the refrigerator, grabbing a pitcher of juice and bringing it to the table before sitting across from him. Dante smiles at her, reaching for toast. She watches him spread jelly on a slice, thinking of how his hands were on her body. Up until now, she had felt confident things went well, beyond happy with the night they shared. There was even a voicemail from her mother, saying how nice things were and to remind her to mop the floors later.

But now, face to face, doubt is filling her by the second, especially since he hasn't said anything. 

Something else seems off, and a second later she realizes something is burning. "The eggs!" Lir cries, jumping to her feet and rushing to the pan.

Sure enough, the edges are too dark. In frustration she flips the eggs over, but she must have been too aggressive because every yolk breaks. Lir stares at the burnt eggs with a deep frown, taking a deep breath and willing herself not to cry.

"You okay?" Dante calls over.

She takes a moment to steady her voice. "Yes. I just forgot about the eggs, so they're . . . I'm sorry."

"Hey, no worries. Any egg is a good egg in my book." His cheery voice only serves to make her feel worse, and she nearly tosses the eggs out, only her mother's repeated admonishment never to waste food keeping her from doing so. She takes them to the table instead, wincing when Dante snags four for his plate. "Besides, I like 'em a little crispy."

Lir nods, sinking into her seat. She pushes her food around on her plate, wondering what to say. Her mother's voice is running nonstop in her head, all the instructions from the years, and her chatter in the hours before the wedding the day beforehand: be engaging, don't let him see a mess, everything in its place, a good wife makes a husband happy.

But is he happy? She peeks up to see him munching away. Maybe, so she should use this time to talk. Yet the only topic on her mind is one she can't bring herself to say. "Did you sleep well?" she finally manages.

"Yeah. I was tired as hell. Passed right out." Then Dante freezes, and she watches with concern as a series of emotions she can't quite make out flash across his face. He sits up stiffly, placing his fork carefully on the edge of the plate. "Did, uh, you?" he asks in return, not meeting her eyes.

She nods. "Yes, thank you. I wasn't awake much longer than you were, and woke up refreshed."

It's a practiced answer, and half a lie. When she had fallen asleep, it had been deep, yes, but the hours after their coupling had passed with her lying awake, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and taking the liberty of stroking the muscle of his arm without his eyes on her. That's something she doesn't think he needs, or wants, to know—if she tells him, she has no doubt that it would make him uncomfortable, if not outright angry.

"Good." Dante clears his throat. "I've been thinkin' about what happened last night. The, uh, sex. You follow?" When she indicates that she does, he crosses his arms. "It was, uh . . . not exactly what I expected. Not that I expected much," he chuckles, "but still."

"Not . . ." Her voice fades as the blood leaves her face. She looks down, suddenly mortified she is wearing his shirt. Why didn't she put the gown back on? It had been too presumptuous, and she has her own clothes, and she looks ridiculous. Not that the gown would have enticed him at all.

Of course, he doesn't want it either.

"It wasn't . . . what I expected either," she murmurs.

"Right." He clears his throat again. "I'm sorry about that. I guess I got a bit carried away towards the end there. But don't worry. I promise, it won't happen again."

Lir nods. This is to be expected, and she had been foolish enough to hope. Quickly she clears her throat and picks up her fork. "You're right. It can't happen again. We fulfilled the oath, and now we don't have to do that ever again."

She shoves a slice of bacon into her mouth, glancing up when Dante fails to agree with her. He is giving her a strange look that he quickly covers up when she blinks in surprise. "Yeah. No need for that, huh? Probably shouldn't."

"I'm glad we agree." She takes a sip of juice to buy herself time to build up the courage to ask her next question. "Do you want me to return home? I understand if you want your own back, and I'm sure they'll have accommodations for me."

He pauses in buttering a slice of toast. "Do you want to go back?"

"It's not about what I want—"

"Yeah, it is." His gaze is heavy on her face. "You wanna go back, I'm not gonna stop you. You wanna stay, you're welcome to stay. I told you before that I like havin' you around, but I don't own you. You're free to choose."

Lir stares back, her heart fluttering a bit. He has just made it so clear that he wants nothing to do with her, and yet when he talks about her staying, it seems like he actually wants that. "I would like to stay," she whispers. 

"Okay," Dante says. He leans back and rubs his hands on his thighs. "Do you, uh . . . want to move back into your room?"

"I should," she says quietly. "I'll get my things from yours after I clean up down here."

"Alright."

They finish the rest of their breakfast in an unusually terse silence, and Lir more picks at hers than eats; her nerves are frayed, her uncertainty making her stomach churn, and she watches him get up from the table and head to get dressed with no small relief. Once he's out of sight, she presses her hands to her face and allows herself a few seconds to cry and work through her disappointment and hurt. Then she sets about washing the dishes and wiping down the counters and table, making certain the entire kitchen is spotless before she steps foot into the office.

Dante is behind his desk, his feet propped on its surface and a magazine over his face. She knows he's sleeping from his slow, even breathing, and she tiptoes to and up the stairs, holding her breath until she reaches the second floor, where she has more freedom to move around.

Her first stop is his room. Carefully, she strips the sheets, setting the fitted one aside to soak once she sees the spot of blood on it, and then she remakes it with the ones that he likes and hides the frilled pillows and decorative blanket in the back of his closet. Lir trades out his shirt for her slip, and then she takes the dirty linens to the hall, where she leaves them while she makes a second sweep of the room, dusting and looking for anything she might have missed. Her wedding dress, in a heap on the floor, is the only thing, and she takes that to her room and hangs it in the closet, gets dressed, and takes the things from the hall down to the laundry room.

After the washer is going, Lir heads back to the main room. There is nothing to do, as she had kept his schedule clear at his request. Nervously she fusses around, finding a stray cup from the party or a crushed flower, until finally Dante calls her name.

She stops and they stare at one another for a long moment. Is this how it will always be, this awkwardness? She would have thought being naked with their hands and mouths all over each other would have been the ultimate ice breaker . . . and now that image is in her head, which she quickly shakes.

"Is that all you're doing today?" he asks.

Confused, Lir looks down at the little bag of trash she holds. "Is . . . that alright?"

"It's just, ya know . . ." Dante shrugs. "It seems weird. We just got . . . well, you were there." He gestures with his hand before continuing, "Most people leave on a honeymoon or something. Never heard of a couple just . . . going back to work after a wedding."

"A honeymoon?" she echoes. Her sisters had each taken one, their husbands carting them off to some exotic locale for a week, and Lir had listened to their gushing after they returned. But she'd never thought of having one herself. "Would you like to?"

"Well, we could—"

He's cut off by the shrill ringing of the phone. Both of them stare at it for several seconds until he grunts and leans forward, snatching it from the hook. "Devil May Cry." His brows furrow as he listens. Then he holds the phone out for her. "It's your mother."

Lir steps forward to take it with a frown. "Mother?"

"Lir! My goodness, you should really teach him the proper way to answer a call." Lorenna sounds breathless, excited, and that sends a sliver of worry through her. "Well, that can wait. You'll never believe what's happened!"

She glances to Dante. "What?"

"Your father was with one of his colleagues—Damien, do you remember him? Well, they got this idea that they should have another look at those records, since you're married now, make sure nothing else was required to keep the seal going. And I told him, I said, don't go rocking the boat, Augustus, Lir's married now, there's no point trying to get her out of it—"

"Mother, please."

"It's true! He was against it from the start. Said we should send Irene, but what would her husband's family say if we broke their engagement?" There's a pause where Lorenna takes in a deep breath. "What was I saying? Oh! So, they went and read over that old contract, and do you know what they found? You don't have to be married at all!"

Her heart sinks to her feet, her fingers going numb where she cradles the phone to her ear. "What?"

"Turns out, it was just a handshake. That's all that was needed, and the seal stays good as new! I'm assuming you've shaken his hand. If not, you can do it now, and we'll look into getting that marriage annulled, assuming you've gone to the courts already. No sense in you being sullied by a demon when there's no need for it."

Her heart feels like it has stopped. Several seconds go by before she hears, "Lir? Lir, are you there?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"Well what do you say? You can come home tonight if—"

"It was nice talking to you, Mother," she quickly says, cutting her off. She hears her protest as she sets the receiver down on the cradle, her hands shaking slightly.

"Everything alright?" Lir looks up sharply at Dante, who stares at her closely. "You look pale. Did she give you shit or something?"

Lir shakes her head. "No. No, it's nothing. She called to tell me . . ." She clears her throat. "Just to say she had a nice time, and that they were on their way back."

She wonders if he'll see the lie in her eyes, but Dante only nods. "Good. Now about this honeymoon . . . we could maybe go away somewhere? For a couple of days?" He shrugs. "Nothing fancy, but . . . I feel like I should do something for you, at least."

"Sure. Why don't you find some places, and we'll look at them together. I think I'm going to finish tidying up."

He studies her for a bit longer before nodding, and she returns to picking up the trash, wondering what the hell she's going to do.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante grins as he carries their bags into the room Kyrie helped him arrange. "Hey, this is nice," he exclaims. 

"Yeah, it is!" Lir smiles as she steps past him. He swells with happiness to see it, the first bit of spark she's shone since they were married a few days before. She had become quieter, almost skittish around him, and he was hoping having a few days would help them get past the awkwardness that had grown huge between them.

Of course, a lack of money and time had been two obstacles, so they ended up in Fortuna. But Kyrie had helped them find a bed and breakfast right on the water, so it seemed nice enough. He wasn't sure what a bed and breakfast was exactly, but he liked sleeping and food so Dante had booked it along with another surprise for Lir.

He watches her flit about the room, opening the curtains and cooing over the view of the ocean, peeking into the bathroom. The only hesitation she shows comes when she peers at the bed, which they'll have to share, but otherwise she seems happy, and that makes him happy in turn. Dante drops their bags onto the bed, laughing quietly when she immediately moves to open them and starts storing their things in the dresser. "You always unpack like this?"

"I haven't been on a vacation before." She smiles at him over her shoulder, and his heart stutters at the sight. "But I think it'd be easier to have our clothes here instead of rummaging through the suitcases, don't you?"

"Sure, sure, yeah." He peers out of the window, wrinkling his nose at the sight of people lounging on the beach. Sometimes, after all that happened with the Order, it's easy to forget that Fortuna is a tourist destination. "Listen, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"I've got a surprise for you this afternoon. So, if you wanna go to the beach or the boardwalk, we should do that soon."

"A surprise?" She stops what she is doing and looks at him with wide eyes. "What surprise?"

Dante clears his throat. "Uh . . . Well, I guess there isn't any harm in telling you. I got us tickets to that aquarium thing you wanted. We can arrive at—"

He is cut off when Lir lets go a squeal. "Really? Really?! We're going to the aquarium? Dante!" 

She is practically bouncing up and down. "Yeah. You said you wanted to go, right?"

Lir lets go another squeal and nearly launches herself at him, the clothes in her hands scattering as she throws her arms around him. "Dante! I'm so excited! I can't believe you remembered!"

He huffs a laugh as she hugs him tightly. Tentatively he puts her arms around her, the first hug she's given him since their night together. It is an odd feeling, considering Lir was always affectionate without even realizing it, squeezing his arm or fixing his collar or tucking his hair back. He hadn't even noticed it either until she stopped, and Dante smiles as he holds her closely.

She smells sweet and clean, and he presses his nose to her hair, relishing this while it lasts. "Thank you, thank you!" She squeezes him, her face in the crook of his neck, her breath fanning along his skin pleasantly. "Do you think they'll have whales? I really want to see one!"

"No whales, I think. They're too big to keep there. But," he amends, when she sags a bit, "I'm sure they'll have sharks. Maybe even dolphins."

Lir perks right up, drawing away to beam up at him. She's close enough that he could kiss her, and he really, really wants to. But, before he can, she's off, digging through her bag. "I need to get changed. I have this perfect sundress that I've been saving for ages, and I think I brought my wedges . . ."

Lir grabs her things and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Dante to stare after her. He chuckles and fishes out his cell phone, writing a quick text to Nero: Tell Kyrie that Lir loves the room.

Nero answers back almost immediately: I will! She'll be glad. We still getting dinner later?

Dante presses his lips together. Maybe. I'll let you know.

Lir emerges a minute later, wearing a red and white sundress that cinches tight around her chest and flares out, stopping well above the knee. His mouth goes dry as he takes in her bare legs and tiny waist. She looks cute and fun and his mind immediately goes straight to the sinful things he would want to do to her in the cute dress. But Lir doesn't want that, she's made that abundantly clear from the morning after the wedding.

She catches him staring and does a little twirl, laughing as the fabric flares around her thighs before settling back. "What do you think?"

"You look . . ." Fucking amazing. "You look good. D'you want to go now? Tickets are for four o'clock, but there's probably a gift shop we can look in . . ."

"Can we? Please?" Lir looks at him with those pleading amber eyes, and he thinks of that same expression when they'd had sex and has to swallow to clear the lump from his throat.

"Yeah, of course. Just let me, uh . . . Gotta store the weapons, y'know? People probably wouldn't be too pleased about them."

Lir nods, fishing her shoes from her bag as he unbuckles the guns from his back. It's weird to not have to wear them, but the likelihood of him needing them is incredibly low; besides, if anything happens, Fortuna has a devil hunter on-call already. 

He ignores the shape of her legs as she crosses them to buckle her sandals, instead stashing his holster in the closet. They aren't even out the door and she's already driving him nuts, just as she had back at the shop, every interaction so damn awkward even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and kiss her senseless. And maybe make up for breaking his promise, and actually make her feel good, unlike their wedding night.

Not that he blames her for freezing him out; the way he acted like an animal didn't help things, or his complete lack of knowing what the hell to do. No wonder she just wants to be friends, and deep down, Dante knows that if that's all she ever wants, he'll be okay with it. Seeing her happy is what is important to him now, not the sex.

But damn, he wishes for that too.

"Ready?" she calls from the door.

"Uh-huh." He puts his sword in the closet, shuts the door, and turns to face her with a grin. She moves towards him, and he holds out his arm, delighted when she takes, more so when she leans against him, resting her head on his bicep. "Hope it's everything you want it to be," he says.

Lir hums, giving him a little squeeze. "It already is."

They head out to the street, walking arm-in-arm towards the harbor where the aquarium is located. It really is a perfect day, the sun sparkling on the water and a nice breeze in the trees. Lir exclaims over the little shops they pass, admiring the cobblestone on the streets and the old fashioned lamps. "I feel like I've gone back in time," she laughs.

"Yeah, Fortuna was kind of stuck for a while," he replies. "But now that the Order is gone, they are modernizing."

Lir glances up at him. "Is it very difficult, remembering your fight here?"

"What? No," Dante scoffs. "It was nothing. And Nero did most of the work. I just ran around shooting things."

"All that violence," she murmurs. He glances down, surprised by the melancholy in her voice, but she gives her head a little shake and points to an ice cream stand by the edge of the beach. "Look! I wonder if they have strawberry sundaes?"

"Do you want to see?"

Her brows furrow. "After the aquarium?"

"Sure."

"Yes!" There's an element of innocence to her joy, and he shifts his arm cautiously from her hold to curl it around her waist, relaxing when she doesn't immediately pull away. Not that it's her fault, but she's drawing more than a few lingering looks, and he's got no desire to spoil this trip for her by knocking the sense out of someone who's got no chance with her, anyway. "Do you think we'll see Nero and Kyrie?"

"About that . . . They actually want to meet up for dinner when we're done. If you want to, that is."

Lir nods eagerly. "That would be fun!"

Dante sighs, a mix of disappointment and relief. It will be easier to keep the awkwardness at bay with the others around, although part of him wishes it could be just the two of them on this trip. He sends Nero a text confirming dinner and receives back a reply: My place at six.

They find the aquarium easily enough. It's the newest looking building in the area, with a steel replica of a shark's jaw framing the sign Fortuna Aquarium. Lir nearly drags him through the doors, looking around eagerly while a clerk scans their tickets and cheerily bids them to have a good time, pointing out the gift shop just inside the doors. That's where they go first, and Lir disappears quickly among the shelves, Dante following along as she browses the different stuffed animals and bits of jewelry and other novelties, a mixture of joy and regret making his head feel heavy.

I really fucked this up.