#you realize that the human race is not just hellfire and agony

[keeroo92]

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch36 (V x Reader)

Alternate ending - bring your tissues!!!

June 15th, 3:06 pm

The low blue glow flashes, painfully bright against your clenched eyelids as it surges from Urizen’s body beneath you and you topple to the side in shock as the corpse vanishes. Your heart sinks to the floor as you look back to where you left V to see nothing, a void where the man you love should be waiting for you.

V is gone.

V is gone…

 NO!!!!

You collapse in on yourself, tears falling from your eyes like rain, painting your cheeks and dripping off your chin. The pain in your heart is too much to bear, it’s as if there’s a hole inside your chest. Heaving, choking sobs wrack your body as you watch the blue light fade to reveal…

Vergil.

A tall man dressed in high quality clothing, white hair slicked back and a cold expression on his face. Yet as you watch, his face chances, morphs almost, and suddenly Vergil has V’s face. It barely has time to register in your mind before it’s gone again, but something is clearly wrong with Vergil; he holds his head in both hands as if in agonizing pain, features twisted with what looks like rage as he falls to one knee. Its clear something is happening inside him and he doesn’t like it.

You stand slowly, a tiny flicker of hope appearing in your chest.

 He’s still in there somewhere!

“V, if you can hear me, come back to me! Please! Don’t leave me here all alone! I need you! I love you, V, please!”

Again, Vergil wears V’s features for a brief moment, long enough for his face to twist in sorrow, but Vergil’s face returns. The sharp angles of his appearance twist as the man glares at you and you can’t help but shrink back at the fury of his gaze, so unlike V’s gentle emerald eyes.

“Vergil…” Dante growls, already lunging forward with his blade extended. Vergil remains on one knee, his icy blue glare locked on you as his brother swiftly approaches. You watch in terrified stupor as Dante closes in, expecting the blade to decimate the unfamiliar form before you.

Instead, Vergil draws his own blade and expertly blocks Dante’s heavy blow with a vicious snarl. You can hear the blood rushing through your ears as the two men lock eyes, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you desperately try to think of something you can do. Nero seems similarly paralyzed, his eyes glancing between you and the twins uneasily.

Vergil’s hair darkens for a fraction of a second as V struggles to the surface, using the momentary chance to fling himself away from Dante and throw the Yamato to you. The cruel glare returns and the man marches toward you to reclaim his blade.

Dante and Nero both step between Vergil and you, blocking his path with determined scowls. Mercifully, none of the three men attacks, their eyes and bodies frozen in a stalemate.

____________________

Vergil

To be recombined was… jarring to say the least. He was shocked to find his demonic side so weakened, and even more so to find his human side so strong! It was an odd sensation, to have half of oneself wish so desperately to exist separately from the whole.

 V… it even named itself. Fool.

His brother attacks as he processes the flood of information from his two halves, his mind going into overdrive to make sense of all that has occurred since his desperate plan was enacted. Even as distracted as he is, Vergil flicks the Yamato loose and blocks his brother’s blow before it can cleave him in half, snarling at the man in red as he prepares a counterattack that will leave him severely injured, if not dead.

 NO!

A surge of power from within him, and when he regains his senses he finds himself a dozen feet away from his brother, his eyes fixated on the blade as it slides to a stop near your feet.

 She is inconsequential. Not a threat. Powerless.

Some portion of his being howls its discontent at the thought, but he roughly forces it away. No time to dwell on the intricacies of his humanity’s idiocy until the threat is resolved. He strides toward you, brutally ignoring the flicker of disquiet that pulses through him as he takes in the agonized expression on your tear-streaked face.

His view is blocked as his moronic brother steps between him and his goal, another young man joining him in a classic image of protectiveness.

“Not. Another. Step,” the young man growls. His right arm is pulsing with light, and Vergil realizes the arm isn’t flesh, but metal.

 The boy who had Yamato!

Another flash; he’s now on his knees, eyes locked on Dante.

 What in the world…?

“No way, pal. If there’s even a hint of V still in there, I am not gonna kill you, no matter how much you beg,” his brother comments with a smirk.

 I never beg!

Vergil launches himself forward, using his demonic power to teleport close enough to you to grasp the Yamato. He’s within a few inches of you, can smell your skin and hear your choked breathing. It evokes a powerful image in his mind, something from his human half.

Your eyes, fluttering closed as your head rests on a pillow across from his own. The distance between you shrinks into nothingness as your lips meet; a taste of heaven.

Vergil grimaces, shaking off the lingering affection the memory elicited in his heart.

 Meaningless. She is nothing to me.

He draws the Yamato once more even as a twinge of doubt makes his stomach heave uncomfortably, the thought that you are in fact, everything to him painfully difficult to subdue. He lunges away, creating a safe amount of space between himself and you to clear his mind.

“V… please, my poet, don’t go,” your pained voice calls to him. The sound irks him, enrages him as it makes him feel things he can’t afford to feel, not now, not ever. He grits his teeth and sets his eyes back on his prey; Dante.

His brother holds his sword out defensively, guarding himself from Vergil’s obvious attack.

 Something else, then…

He pauses as tactics and plans of attack flood his mind, each one being dissected and analyzed for advantages and potential weak points. He imagines dozens of possibilities in a matter of seconds, the familiar thought process as comforting as Dante is irritating. He settles on a plan and prepares to execute it, repositioning his body for the perfect angle as he purposefully keeps his eyes on his twin.

He charges, but not at Dante.

At Nero.

 Foolish boy, your ineptitude will cost you your life!

Another flood of foreign emotion hits him as he closes the gap, terror and powerlessness tugging at his consciousness. He ignores it, focusing instead on the gleaming metal blade about to pierce the flesh of the boy before him. He doesn’t see your eyes shift to watch, doesn’t see your tear-streaked face twist into another level of pain as he hurtles toward Nero, a triumphant smirk twisting his lips.

He’s barely three feet away when everything changes.

A flash of movement, a blip of no consequence is the only warning as you sprint between his blade and the boy with a fierce howl, your body intercepting his death blow. Vergil freezes as the Yamato sinks into your abdomen, slicing through you just next to where your belly button would lie. An awful squelch, a wet cough as blood splatters his face. His icy gaze widens in astonishment, mouth dropping open as he stares at you.

Panic. Bewilderment. Regret and shame. A slough of feelings annihilates Vergil’s battle-lust, the portion of his soul that cares about you screaming in agony so deep it would drive most men insane as you smile at him sadly, his blade still embedded in your body.

“Y/N!” Nero cries, finally paying attention to what’s happening right beside him. Vergil withdraws the blade with a soft slurp, throwing it aside like so much trash as his arms catch your falling body. Your face twitches painfully, eyes wide and chest heaving in panic as blood stains your white teeth an angry red.

 You motherfucker! Look at what you did!

All the animosity and hatred of just a few seconds prior is gone as Dante and Nero reach him, their hoarse calls to you like knives in his throat. He lowers you gently to the ground, your blood pooling already around his feet in a warm puddle. He hears you gurgle past the fluid in your mouth to speak, and your words rend his soul from his body.

“I… I did it, Lara… the scales… are balanced now,” you choke out, your own hands pressing feebly against your side instinctively. He remembers everything in a tsunami of memory, every moment with you, every touch, every smile, every kiss… He remembers it all.

 What have I done!?

The overwhelming pain he had sensed before mercilessly assaults his senses; he can’t breathe, he can’t think as the smell of your blood stains the air, its hot warmth spilling from you in rivulets. His own blood feels like ice, chilling him to the bone as it courses through his petrified body. Vergil thought he knew pain, thought he understood it in a way few could. Yet the searing, torturous agony of realizing how important you were just after stabbing you was another realm of excruciating he never could have imagined.

“Shit! What do we do?” Nero frantically asks. His mind racing, Vergil recalls how you had helped him treat your injuries, how you’d treated his own wounds during your travels together.

His hands move to press against the gaping wound, applying pressure just like he did when your hip was sliced open. His fingers tremble, quickly turning red as the crimson flood continues. His heart pumps dangerously fast, eyes dilating from the adrenaline as he bites his lip anxiously.

“Dante, get her bag! NOW!” he screams, and his brother sprints to where your backpack lies nearby. Vergil can feel the flow of blood slowing, feels your heartbeat weakening against his hands even as Dante dumps the bag out beside him.

“Towels, we have to stop the bleeding!” he cries, tears bursting from his panicked eyes as his stoic mask slips away, his energy focused entirely on saving your life. Dante brings over every last towel he can find, and all three men take one and press it against you desperately.

“C’mon, kid! Stay with us!” Dante pleads, brow furrowed nervously.

“Why did you do that? It should’ve been me!” Nero hoarsely points out, tears leaking from his eyes as his nose turns red. Your hand rises slowly, shaking as you stroke Nero’s cheek gently.

“Worth… it,” you gasp, and your hand drops lifelessly as the breath leaves your body.

 What have I done!? Little fox?!

His hands press harder, his full weight behind him as he searches your form for any signs of life. Nero reaches out and pats your cheek, leaving a streak of blood behind as your head lolls in response. The boy swallows heavily, glancing at Dante as his eyes overflow. The two of them sit back in unison, their hands dropping the towels they had held. Only Vergil still tries to staunch the blood, but its no use. The deep vermillion hue of the wide puddle underneath you stills, the blood no longer flowing.

 No… no, no, no…

Vergil holds the towel against you desperately for another moment, refusing to accept the reality before him.

“She’s… she’s gone,” Nero tearfully states, sniffling. His words at last drive home the truth for Vergil and he cradles your limp body against himself, heedless of the blood that will forever mark his clothing as he holds you close one last time. He doesn’t care that his brother and the boy are watching, doesn’t care that either one of them could easily destroy him as he mourns the first friend he ever made, the first person he ever allowed into his heart. The first person he ever loved.

He can do nothing to stop the stream of memories now, each one another dagger plunging into his flesh.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

The cute thing your nose did when you got angry.

Your courage, your resilience and stubbornness. Your strength and humor, your lips and your body. The glow in your eyes whenever you had told him you loved him, that shimmer forcing him to accept it as truth.

 I’ll never see her again… she’s gone…

He rocks you in his arms, overcome with grief. He strokes your hair, your cheek, memorizing every last mole and freckle.

 She was mine, and I was hers.

 And I killed her.

 I killed her.

Why couldn’t he have gone back to his emotionless existence? Why did he have to discover how incredible it was to love, only to then learn how much it hurt to lose? His previous refusal to care about people seems so far away, so unreachable. It’s a bitter taste to realize how much he craves the emptiness of not caring, misses the lack of attachment he had cultivated.

All to be destroyed by you. In a single month.

 I never deserved her. Why didn’t she just leave?

A warm hand grips his shoulder, another hesitantly on his back. He had completely forgotten Dante and Nero were there, so wrapped up in his own pain that nothing else registered. Gradually, his keening wails fade away. Not because his pain is lessened, but simply because he runs out of energy to continue.

He is destroyed, wrecked beyond repair as he exhaustedly quiets. Nero gently pulls you from his grasp and as much as he tries to hold on, he has nothing left to give.

“Vergil…” Dante’s low rumble proclaims his sympathy, and suddenly the man in red’s arms are around him. Dante holds his brother close, offering comfort as best he can. Vergil stays frozen for a long moment before he returns his brother’s embrace.

 I can kill him tomorrow. Or maybe next week.

 ____________________

For the remainder of his life, Vergil would never be able to recall how they all reached Nico’s van, the time a complete blank in his memory. All he knows is when they finally turned the corner with your limp body in Dante’s arms, three female voices all cried out as one.

 “Y/N!”

Nico reaches you first, her long stride serving her well as she takes in the amount of blood covering all three men. She gasps as she sees your face, too still and frozen. She takes your cold hand in her own and presses it to her lips as tears pour from her eyes.

“What the hell happened? You were supposed to keep her safe!” the mechanic screams at Nero. He flinches as if she had slapped him, carefully keeping his eyes on the ground as he trudges forward to sit near the van. Trish and Lady carefully take you from Dante, carrying you inside the van with stricken faces.

“She took a blow meant for Nero,” Dante explains gruffly. Nico wails, collapsing into the legendary devil hunters’ arms and babbling incoherently through her sobbing.

Trish and Lady return, finally taking notice of the third man with matching sneers of distaste. He tries to meet their eyes with an equally cold expression but finds he can’t disguise his pain fully.

 So weak. So stupid, powerless and foolish.

“I take it her idea was a bust then?” Lady asks hesitantly, refusing to even speak your name. Dante gives her a pointed nod, gently turning to face her and Trish.

“Ladies, my brother Vergil. Vergil, don’t stab anyone,” Dante introduces them, his uncouth words making Vergil flinch. His brother grimaces, an apology clear in his eyes but Vergil simply walks away.

 Enough. Enough of this nonsense.

He forces himself to breathe evenly, arranging his features into a blank mask and setting his limbs in a neutral posture as he calms himself. It’s difficult, far more difficult than it was a mere month ago. Just as he locks away the last of his grief, Dante joins him.

“Look, Verg… I can’t really imagine what you’re feeling, but I’m here, yeah? Don’t run off again. You’re the only brother I’ve got and I don’t know about you but I’m sick of fighting,” the impudent man informs him bashfully. Vergil manages a tight nod, focusing on calmness and still waters. It doesn’t work very well, his teeth clenching as the tide of emotion surges once more.

“I hate to bring it up, but how are we going to deal with the tree?” Trish asks, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Dante sighs, stepping back over to the group to discuss options, but Vergil is having none of it. He stalks over to the group with a scowl, glaring at them all in turn.

“I’ll do it,” he states simply.

Nero exchanges a doubtful glance with Dante, but Lady beats him to the punch.

“How can you possibly think we’d trust you with that after everything you’ve done?” she exclaims angrily. He only glares at her in return, failing to find the words to explain his urge to finish this, end this horror that had destroyed you forever.

“Because I’m going with him,” Dante adds with a confident smirk.

Vergil swallows his anger and frustration, forcing his voice to be calm and steady.

“We need to sever the Qlipoth roots in the Underworld itself. Then, we'll seal the portal with the Yamato,” he explains coldly, to dubious looks of confusion.

“Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back,” Nero starts stubbornly. Dante whirls on him with an angry scowl.

“Why do you think I'm goin'? Someone's gotta keep an eye on your old man,” he comments to the boy, but Nero still won’t see reason.

“You can't just expect me to stay here, while you both go—” he cries out insistently.

“It's because you're here we can go. We're trusting you with things on this sidem, capisce?” Dante counters, and Nero finally seems to settle. Vergil can see the resemblance in his son’s face as he scowls and crosses his arms.

“Don’t you let him die, Vergil, or you’ll have me to deal with,” Trish threatens with a steely-eyed glare. He stares at her brokenly until she looks away awkwardly, his empty eyes not holding the slightest threat.

“Make haste, Dante,” the elder Sparda urges, turning to face the Qlipoth with grim determination. He wishes he could see you one last time, but if he went in the van he knows he’d never want to leave. He must finish this. For you.

“Yeah, I know,” Dante replies, trotting over to join him. They transform together, a flash of red and blue mixing together as the two brothers launch themselves into the air, flapping their mighty demonic wings to ascend. Neither of them look back.