#urizen dmc

[vngful]

[soybean-official]

What's going to happen to me now?

[dmbakura]

was gonna be a colour wheel meme but i decided to just draw every vergil

[dmc-questions-anon]

I am very obsessed with Vergil/Urizen's "How... How are you so powerful!? You've never lost anything!" line to Dante. Just how this perception would shape their relationship going forward, how it has shaped Vergil's view towards Dante, how it has shaped Vergil himself in a way.

[silentffantasy]

i love demon possibly sob

[drusoona]

[phonkscribes]

V is a careful lover, the side of Vergil that is delicate and understands that there is a certain finesse that comes with wooing that of which he wants. He is patient, observant, and has his eye trained upon the beholder of his affections. When reaching out to you, it is done with absolute conviction, aiming to strike true in hopes that these affections will be returned to him. Ever attentive, though at ease. He is aware that your heart might belong to another, that is entirely possible, but if you're happy, who is he to jeopardize that? V is considerate of your feelings, and yet he cannot help but to want to be a bit selfish.

He wants to be loved, and he wants to be given that more than anything.

Urizen is his opposite half, which unifies him to Vergil. He is possessive, and has no qualms with ensuring that you understand that you will be his and that he will be yours. As curious as that is, given his disdain for mortal life if it does not offer him power in any way, shape, or form. You make him act different, the king wanting to secure you and have you rule at his side as the world caves in. He makes a show of his power quite often, willing to shower you in gifts or to prove that he is the strongest possible mate that you will ever have or need.

He forgets his own strength in the pursuit for more, and in turn that may potentially harm you. That's something that he doesn't want, but he doesn't want to see you bleed either. That might be what causes him to push you away, to want to ignore you despite what his heart speaks to his fervent mind as he sits upon his throne. Such trivial matters shouldn't pester a king as they have, but here he is, wondering about that insignificant mortal... one that has planted such thoughts inside of him.

[phantom-alpha]

just here to feed the dmc fandom then run away again

[oocyteviscerated]

hey dmc fans can we talk about fucking uh how uuhh erm u huh uuhgh hh hg gets a bonar so hard i almost pass out. I think I hauve covid.

[our-reb00t-boi]

Og: "Look junior, just go! You're just dead weight!"

Reboot: "Me? You lost that 1st round..."

Og: 🤨

Reboot: 😏 (it's true tho...)

Urizen: Your battle was to me, not to...Oh crud look at them go, friggin ignoring me...

[beware1live]

his ass would NOT say that.

[sweetyart]

Nero has not yet seen his father in his “better years”...

[dmc-questions-anon]

I only recently realized how infuriating it must have been for Dante fighting Urizen. He was fighting him for a day, never landed any actual hit on him, just constantly whacking that goddamn crystal, trying to dodge fireballs and purple beams and such, and as a bonus Urizen didn't bother to even stand up.

[the-uncursed-one]

:3

tbh

yeah im definitely gonna make more

[drusoona]

[phonkscribes]

Trivial.

He'd anticipated that you'd get injured, one way or another. Demons have a pension for wanting human blood, either spilled for the sake of feeding or just for the sake of taking it. What could you do in retaliation of the inevitable? Weaklings get crushed, by that of which is stronger than they are, and Urizen was power absolute. He should've seen to your disposal himself, as insignificant as you were to his plans. Though there is something that is so perplexing about you that hinders your eventual demise. There is something that even he cannot ignore.

Or, Urizen crushing on a GN! Reader and rushing to their aid.

He's convinced that it will pass.

Like a dull ache or the bite of hunger after having starved, but even those things require something to be satisfied. What could he need of you? You're a human, a mortal. The only thing that you could grant him is an easy meal. You, who is so insignificant to the king, would stand no chance. You would die before you could even process what had happened.

"Is that so?", you had asked, feigning confidence with a face that dared to smile at him.

Urizen reaffirmed, even if he didn't need to. You believed the behemoth as he sat upon his throne. He could hear your heart beating so quickly in your chest that he was surprised it hadn't leapt out of your throat and pulsed on the floor. It's a fitting reaction. All humans should cower before him, they should recognize that he is their superior in every shape, way, and form.

And yet you stood in front of him.

What pushed you to act so defiantly? What motivated you to speak to him with such impudence? He desired to know, perhaps the only other thing he desired aside from the fruit of the Qliphoth. The demon looked down upon you with that hint of irritation in his guarded gaze, a great many of his eyes fixating on your small figure. It was one of the few things he pondered when it came to you: your confidence and why he was allowing you to live while in his presence. Perhaps it was because you weren't a real threat to him, something that could be dealt with in an instant if he willed it. Maybe he just found you amusing, the way that a jester entertains a king.

Subconsciously, he had began to think of you as such.

When you'd journey through the demonic tree just to see him, he found himself becoming still, straining his ears to pick up on the sound of your heart. Amidst all of the inhabitants, yours was the most distinct, the quick pitter-patter that echoed when you ran and fought the lesser beings after your mortal blood. You'd managed to appear before him quite a few times, so it never crossed his mind that you would ever be in any real danger. That meant that you were formidable enough to come to him unscathed. Though something unpleasant struck his ears as he sat, rooted to his seat.

He thought he misheard, the sound passing, until something rich met his nose. It was a scent he could recognize, a fragrance that only belonged to one soul he knew.

Well... what did it concern him?

You were unlike that of any other mere mortal. You were the jester that came through to visit him, to entertain the king of hell. Your laughter grated his ears, like nails on a chalkboard, such an irritating sound. Such a pest... and yet he listened. When you went on about matters that did not concern him, he held his ears open, he took them in and remembered them against his wishes. The quickness of your breathe when you dared to approach him also was quite prominent in his memories, the way you were careful with your words and how you paid attention to the way he'd narrow his gaze at you with contempt.

Your demise should be the most entertaining act of them all, watched and observed with bravado, but that was not the case for the king.

He wanted to be there for it, to see it himself. If there was going to be anyone to bring you to ruin, it would be Urizen and by his own hands. The demon rose from his seat, summoning the crystalized yamato to his side to carve open a path to where you currently stood. He ought to delight in this, it was something he was convinced of as he stepped through. His gaze was indifferent as he made his grand appearance, your familiar scent wafted through the air, the aroma being another alluring.

There, right there, you sat-- or rather knelt.

The bodies of a few devils laid at your feet, but he could see where you'd been harmed. Your body quivered from the pain, the sharp twist in your side being one that only stung worse by the minute as you glanced at the wine that flowed from the gash made by those terrifying claws. Two Death Scissors materialize as the Qliphoth bleeds them through, the apparitions laughing at your miserable state while their king approaches. Their cackles fall upon your ears as you feel the ground shake beneath you, but you're relieved as you look to see Urizen drawing closer. A quick and painless death would be ideal compared to getting cut in sections or impaled by the scissors of the devils before you. You expect that the king means to crush you to death with a stomp of his powerful leg, or blast a hole through your head with one of his lasers.

He does no such thing, that look of abhorrence remaining in his gaze as he kneels to pick you up. You're so incredibly small compared to him, small enough to fit in his hand like you belong there. Your blood coats his rough palm as he looks at the two demons that float in the air. Urizen dares them to try something, to question his power or to challenge his decision to spare this meager human. The ghosts remain, silent though curious, undoubtedly. Their minds are not capable of forming any coherent thoughts, their only instinct was telling them to kill you and to feed on the blood of your corpse.

And yet... they are intelligent to know what it would mean to challenge the king of hell, the ruler of all demons.

It is why they have the sense to vanish from his sight, less they want their existence to be pointless.

In his hand, he brings you close to his face. Urizen inhales deeply, savoring the way you make his mouth salivate. You watch as he parts his lips to let his tongue slither out and lap at your wound to clean it, as if catching the juices of tender meat right as one takes the first bite. Your taste is more saccharine than anything he's ever tasted before, and the urge to devour you right then and there creeps into his mind like a dull whisper. Your heart hammers so delightfully in your chest, the crescendo of this act. He might've brought you closer to his jaws. What was keeping him from ending your life, from taking that fruit from the tree and savoring it.

Your hands.

Your hands at either side of his cheeks, a feeble attempt at a hug.

It pulls him from his thoughts, and the whisper in the back of his mind quiets itself. It's replaced by the sound of your voice. Even when it's so close to him like this, you speak softly, letting your words be carried like the wind as he holds you.

"Thank you"

Thank you?

A human who thanks a devil... how trivial.

Urizen dislikes the way he can hear you smile, the way that you rest yourself in his hand as your wound begins to heal. His energy was imbued the moment he gave you that 'kiss'. This feeling, it was one he recognized within the husk of his former self. In this form, he thought he was incapable of feeling it, but even now it has him in its sweltering grasp. The king of hell grunts, nearly growling at you, but he says nothing of it. The yamato is summoned again, and with it he creates the gateway to return to his throne. He's taking you with him.

Where you will be kept safe at his side, until he can comprehend why the idea of losing his jester is as insufferable as they are.