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fluffleroni · 2 months ago

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What I Didn't Know I Lost - Part 3

(the Vergil kidnaps teen Nero fic, now with a title) Part 1 | Masterpost

Fandom: Devil May Cry No ships, focused mainly on Nero and Vergil, though Dante will eventually show up. Summary: Weakened from his defeat as Nelo Angelo, Vergil has been in the grasp of Agnus and used to create the Angelos. Through a twist of fate he manages to get a broken Yamato early, but he’s not entirely there mentally. Teen Nero has a no good bad horrible day and gets kidnapped for his trouble.

There was a noise, a creak followed by a thump and a click. It was a series of sounds that held some familiarity. Something that Vergil should be able to recognize as something more than the individual sounds.

Yamato glinted in the waning light as he turned her around, contemplating.

Finally imagery managed to escape the recesses of his mind: that of a door, opening and closing.

The house was silent save for small creatures skittering in the walls.

The child was straying again.

Vergil got to his feet. A feeling curled in his chest, one he couldn’t name… a sort of agitation. A low growl rose from his chest. Foolish nestling hadn’t learned its lesson.

It was not long before he found it.

Vergil looked down into the enclosed space from his perch above. The agitation had ceased the moment he had eyes on the nestling. The lesser demons had not even noticed him, too focused on the weaker devil. The acrid scent of fear itched at his nose, but these pitiful lesser demons were no threat to a young devil, more like playthings. There was no reason to steal kills.

The nestling cried out in pain, but it was the sudden sweet scent of the mostly human blood that snapped awareness back into place.

Not a nestling, a child. Vulnerable and mostly human - now bleeding.

Unacceptable.

Oo o oO

One moment Nero was staring death in its ugly demonic face, the next an odd stillness came over the world. Something warped his perception, movement slowed down, colors muted and then with a disorienting snap time returned.

Nero’s mind reeled. He felt dizzy. He couldn’t understand what just happened.

Nero had been as good as dead. About to be skewered, because he let a bit of pain take him down. The slash on his leg was long and it bleed quite a lot, judging by how wet and sticky his pant leg felt, but it was a horizontal slice on the side of the thigh, the important shit were on the inside. He wasn’t dying from that as long as he staunched the bleeding. No, but he was sure he’d been about to die from those next swings aimed at him from several scythes and then poof! The world snapped back in place from that strange dissonance and everything was cut.

For one terrifying second Nero had a vision of the world in fractals sliding apart and then it was just him on the ground, the demons falling, already dissolving, and Nero’s kidnapper in the center of the courtyard, straightening from a crouch with perfect poise as he replaced the broken blade in the scabbard in a practiced twirl that spoke to the original length of the blade.

It slid in with a final shink.

Nero stared open mouthed. He had no idea what to feel. Shock, definitely. Terror, maybe? There was no way the man wasn’t a demon. Unbidden, his gaze slid to the Sparda statue, there were definitely similarities in the features, but he was more relieved to see the differences - the shape of the eyes, the cleft in the chin - because this was getting too weird.

And beneath all that, what did it say about Nero that for a moment back in the house he had thought, hoped- He firmly pushed that line of thought away.

Cold impassive eyes regarded him or rather he realized just a moment later they were directed towards his leg - his bleeding leg.

“Oh fuck,” Nero cursed and pulled his hoodie and underlying T-shirt off in one tangled mess. It took way longer than it should have to get the T-shirt free because he kept glancing at his demonic kidnapper. Demon’s were crazy for human blood, he could be one second from being ripped to shreds.

Finally he got the t-shirt free, spun it a few times around its diagonal to make sure the folded fabric was long as possible and tied it around his thigh tightly. He grimaced at his bloodied pants leg, it probably did very little to reduce the scent of blood after all.

He looked up hesitantly, just as cold eyes shifted from his wound to his face. Unbidden his shoulders relaxed, his body somehow realizing before his brain caught up to him; he was not about to be ripped apart.

It made no bloody sense, but he knew that.

A disbelieving huff blew out his nose, and his lips tipped up at the edges. Something was bubbling in his chest, hysteria, disbelief, laughter, crying, he wasn’t sure.

He was alive.

His freakish kidnapper, who was definitely a demon had saved him.

Nero picked up his hoodie and pulled it back on. He didn’t know how he could have forgotten the way his kidnapper had moved or the fact that he’d unnaturally transported them away from Fortuna. Like seeing his human looking face, and the similarities to Nero himself, had overwritten what he’d already known.

Slowly Nero got to his feet, trying not to put too much weight on his pounding left leg. It was gonna be a bitch to walk on. He straightened his back and faced the impassive gaze head on.

Maybe it was the fact that this demon acted like no other demon he’d ever known. He’d already considered that he might be possessed, but Nero had dealt with the possessed. They grew mad, frantic, itchy - they didn’t break like this.

While the possessed were too full, it was like Nero’s kidnapper was too empty. Like he was missing something.

And it still didn’t explain how he could look so human!

What the Hell was he? Some kind of demon human hybrid science experiment?!

Nero wanted to laugh at the ridiculous thought, but the laughter caught in his throat. He limped the few steps it took to close the distance to stand in front of him. He had to tilt his head up to hold the gaze.

He had followed Nero and saved him. That was fact. He had cut every living thing in the courtyard to pieces except Nero. It had to mean something.

A hand clamped down on Nero’s upper arm and then he was dragged along in a way that was starting to be too familiar, though at least this time he was walking, or rather limping on his own to legs instead of dragged along the ground. As they exited the archway Nero looked to the sky and the few stars that managed to pierce through the light pollution. He sighed.

What even was his life?

He expected them to turn left back towards the house when they reached the road, instead they turned right, heightening Nero’s confusion.

Guess they were going on a walk? Where were they going? Who knew! Did Nero’s kidnapper know?

Somehow Nero doubted that.

Oo o oO

The cloying sweet scent of the boy’s blood was an annoying itch in his nose, a constant reminder of his humanity, of his fragility.

Vergil could not watch the child every single moment, he was not- He wasn’t strong enough. His hands clenched, one grip on Yamato who crooned back comfortingly, the other on the boy who made a pained sound. Abruptly, Vergil let go of the boy, and stopped in place.

He looked up towards the yawning darkness with its small pinpricks of light.

If it was just him and Yamato he knew what to do; One step after the other towards survival. They would survive, but the boy- Vergil could not leave the boy to fend for himself, his entire body itched at the idea. But humans had needs he could scarcely remember. If he pondered long enough, maybe he could drag forth the memories. He had remembered some things.

The cold felt by a child left behind.

Hunger, gnawing at his stomach, before he fully matured into his demonic powers.

He blinked slowly, waiting for the void of his mind to serve up some kind of revelation.

Shuffling movement next to him and the boy spoke, hesitantly. The sounds washed over him and though he could not connect the sounds into words that made sense in his mind, he could feel the tone, the intent: worry. For him.

Some strange unknown swelled in his chest, it wasn’t a bad feeling, though he could not identify it. It dragged him away from his musings and he turned his head to regard the boy.

The impulse was an odd one, and he didn’t know where it came from, but his free hand was suddenly on the boy’s head. Wide blue eyes regarded him from a face frozen in shock, but he had no time to ponder that. The feeling of hair between his fingers drew his attention, it was familiar. Like there had been hair between his fingers a thousand times. He chased after the feeling, moving his hand through the strands to feel that soft brush against the sensitive skin between his fingers.

Then it was over. The hair ended. His fingers tingled as he regarded his hand. Curious. Like a memory only his hand remembered.

Oo o oO

Nero stood absolutely still, he didn’t even dare breathe. What the fuck just happened?

The moment stretched as Nero’s kidnapper regarded his own hand as if he also didn’t understand what had happened. Nero’s certainly-a-demon-but-maybe-not-actually kidnapper had just petted his head… how else was he to describe what had just happened?

Nero had been worried when they suddenly stopped after he was let go. The demon (not demon?) was just staring at the sky. They were in the middle of a thankfully small and deserted road. Still, Nero was worried, so he’d asked if he was okay, and then suddenly there was a hand on his head, a comforting weight, before it brushed through his hair.

Nero could not recall an adult touching his hair outside of a haircut. He never could decide whether it was because his hair made him cursed or because he was just not a likable child, more likely to bite than accept hands near his head. He had seen it though. Children with their parents or even the better behaved children at the orphanage getting an affectionate hand on their head, running through their hair.

Kyrie had liked to play with his hair when they were younger, Credo and their parents were more of shoulder pats and rarely hugs kind of people. Nero hadn’t been a small child when they fostered him, it wasn’t like he’d needed all that mushy stuff.

It all left him just as bewildered as his kidnapper seemed to be the way he kept staring at his own hand.

The worst part was that some part of Nero desperately wanted him to do it again.

“Hey we should get out of the road,” Nero tried to get them back on track, no matter the fact that he didn’t know what track that was supposed to be - or the fact that his kidnapper, probably, definitely, didn’t understand human language.

He was regarded passively for a long drawn out moment, and maybe Nero was getting used to it, but it didn’t bother him near as much as it had before, then finally he started walking again. This time it was without grabbing Nero. It was a split second decision, but it was a choice, and Nero chose to follow.

What else was he supposed to do? It was well and truly dark by now. This city had already proved to be demon infested. Who’d let in a dirty and bleeding teen?

It became clear to Nero at some point when he was starting to tire, that his kidnapper had no clue about the actual layout of the city, but was actually just following a general overall direction. If a narrow alley was in that direction, in they’d go, until it turned out to be a dead end. They’d backtrack and follow the previous road until there was another path leading in the right direction.

He had no clue how long they’d been walking. He was too tired to care. It wasn’t only his wounded leg that hurt, but also just his feet in general. Putting one foot in front of the other was starting to feel insurmountable.

Nero supposed he should feel grateful his kidnapper wasn’t destructive and didn’t just cut through their obstacles, but at this point he just wanted to get to wherever they were going (if they were even going somewhere!), so he could lie down and sleep.

They were currently traversing a park and the grass looked mighty soft and tempting in the lamplight. It would be cold of course, and probably wet from dew. Nero hadn’t at first noticed he’d stopped walking, but the cold catching up to his still form was a good reminder that he only wore his hoodie and no longer had the extra layer of his t-shirt. Thankfully his bloodied jeans had dried a while ago and he only had to deal with them being disgustingly stiff.

He needed to move again. He didn’t, instead he started to shiver.

His kidnapper was ten paces ahead when he noticed Nero was no longer following. He turned half-way around to regard him.

If there had been any sort of pity in his gaze maybe that would have been enough to get Nero fired up. He wouldn’t say no to a bit of anger to get his blood boiling at this point. Maybe, on a normal day Nero could also have gotten fired up about the passive uncaring gaze, but Nero was resigned to it at this point.

With his relentlessly even pace, Nero’s kidnapper turned back around and made his way back to Nero. Having his arm grabbed, and getting pulled along was expected - the change in direction was not.

Still, Nero was too focused on putting one leg in front of the other to really ponder, what the change in direction could mean. He wasn’t keen on getting dragged on wet grass should he lose his footing. It was only when they stopped in front of a padlocked shed that Nero realized they might finally stop for the night.

The padlock was evidently no match for the broken blade that could cut space-time into fractals - and huh, maybe that was a thought, maybe it was the blade and not the man that was demonic?

The thought niggled him as he was ushered inside. The door shut making the darkness absolute. Nero stumbled over something long and wooden, probably a gardening tool, but the hold on his arm prevented him from actually falling. He was halfway dragged a couple of steps before he was lowered onto some plastic bags, judging from the scent they were bags of mulch. Not quite soft but not too hard either.

There wasn’t any wind in the shed, but it was still cold. Nero was too tired to care about the way he curled around his kidnapper when he sat down with him. He was warm and that was all that mattered.

Another day in the father-son roadtrip adventure is done. Nero is so confused. Still trying just to get the events down, this is gonna need a rewrite before Ao3, but I am having fun with my silly little story and that's what's most important. Vergil was a bit more aware in the second pov he had in this one than he's been so far, it was basically the stress of Nero bleeding that forced him to be XD He's gonna backslide a bit.

I have very fun plans for the next one.

If you have the time I appreciate comments and tags very much. Thank you to everyone who commented on the last part <3

Masterpost for subscribing

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fluffleroni · 5 months ago

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Patch Job (White RabbitxGN!Reader)

Request: Oh dear, it appears after getting a little trigger happy with trying to lure Dante towards him, he damaged his mask in the process, perhaps you, the Reader, Y/N, whatever you call yourself could have some quality time together while you fix that mask of his and making a few improvements..?

(You can tell I don't write reader fics very often but I did try. Also it wasn't supposed to be this long but again woops.)

Honestly he should have known better. Maybe he was getting cocky? Maybe having Dante almost in his grasp made him slip up? Regardless it didn’t matter, what had been done had been done and now he was paying the price for his stupidity. Sighing the rabbit looked at himself in the bathroom mirror of some random slum he’d taken refuge in from his last battle, the glass was cracked and it was a miracle that this place even still had electricity as the naked blub above him flickered, threatening to go out at any second. But it would be enough, he’d been in worse after all. Looking over his mask he cursed himself under his breath as he surveyed the damage the son of Sparta had done. Admittedly he’d gotten off scot free, not a scratch on him, his “face” on the other hand was a different story.

Grumbling he picked at the broken stitching, his “real” face visible from beneath it now. He’d need to repair it quickly but given that he didn’t exactly have any supplies here and it wasn’t like he could go out like this. It would ruin everything. Growling he smashed his hand into the mirror, destroying what was left of it with his fist. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Collecting himself he took a deep breath before straightening up. He’d have to quickly try to locate some supplies to fix this, at least under the cover of night he’d been harder to spot but he couldn’t help but grimace at the idea of trying to waltz into some haberdashery and purchase some fresh thread and needles. Tutting he resigned himself to just breaking into somewhere like some common thug before turning on his heel, as if this night could get any worse…

Surprisingly the rabbit managed to locate a craft shop after not too long of searching. It was a small little place, tucked out of the way, far from prying eyes. Perfect. Slinking his way out from the alleyway he’d been tucked away in he swiftly made his way over until there was movement within the darkened windows. Someone was still inside? At this time? Gritting his teeth he faltered for a moment before shrugging, at least he wouldn’t have to break in now. Holding back he waited until the employee finally emerged from the shop, they were carrying a bag and turned their back to him as they began to fish about for the keys to lock up. He didn’t give them a chance to scream as he clamped a hand over their mouth, the keys tumbling from their hands as their fingers as their eyes snapped wide, fear gripping them.

“One word, one movement, and I’ll snap your neck like a toothpick. Is that understood? Now open the shop up and walk back inside. I’ve already had a terrible day so one wrong move and I’ll make sure I’ll leave you as a surprise for your boss to clean up in the morning. Now get back inside.”

Of course he was a bit more forceful than he would typically be, but he was irritated and taking out on the human was at least making him feel a little better. The sooner he could get his mask fixed the sooner he could get back to his mission. The human trembled in his grip, they were considerably shorter than himself so he towered over them, plunging them into his shadow as they frantically tried to open the door.

“P-Please don’t hurt me-”

“What did I just say about talking?”

He cut them off as their timid voice cut through the ambient hum of the night. He felt them nervously swallow before they managed to pry the key into the lock. Pushing them both through the door, he quickly slammed the door, locking it again. No disturbances. Especially while he would be so vulnerable…

Rounding back onto the human, their eyes were still locked forwards, too terrified to look up or to try to make a break for it. They surely must have heard about all the demon attacks going on. At least that would keep them compliant.

“Now, where do you keep your needles and thread?”

His voice cut through the tension as the human in his grip jumped slightly, startled by his voice, or maybe it was the request itself.

“Needles and thread? You’re not here to rob me?”

Sighing, the rabbit just tutted and shook his head.

“Do I look like someone who needs money? Now where are the needles and thread, I warn you I don’t like having to repeat myself.”

A small squeak escaped the human before they pointed in quickly to a display to the side. A range of needles and thread littered the wall. Perfect!

“Thank you, and my apologies for all this. I’m not typically so thuggish but I’m a little desperate at the moment.”

Finally releasing them the rabbit made his way over to the display, quickly grabbing what he could.

“What are you trying to repair?”

His ears twitched as the human’s suddenly piped up, glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he regarded them before turning back.

“I broke into your establishment, threatened you and am now stealing thread. And that’s what you’re asking me?”

“Well, those threads are only meant for simple embroidery, if you need something more durable I might be able to suggest something…”

He heard them trail off, as they began to fiddle with their hands, eyes glancing around the room as if they were mulling over their options, as if they were just helping any other customer who just happened to waltz into the store looking for help with a project. Unbelievable. But not unwelcome.

“I… I need to repair something that was damaged during a fight. I need something that’s strong enough to hold up, at least until I can repair it properly myself.”

“Oh, is it your suit? A torn panel maybe?”

Amused, the rabbit just turned and pointed at their torn face, chuckling as the human went pale and flinched back slightly, obviously shocked by the fact he needed to perform what most people would call a surgery rather than a simple patch job.

“It’s a bit more complicated than a mere tear in some fabric. But nothing that I can’t fix with the right equipment. Any suggestions?”

He’d admit he was tickled by the little human and it made a nice change, considering most humans he’d met so far had been cruel, abusive or just straight up tried to shoot him. Admittedly the last one was to be expected but regardless it was a nice change of pace.

“Well human, I’d love to hear your feedback.”

Snapping back he watched as they began to stumble over their words before biting their tongue and trying to calm themselves.

“Nylon thread is one of the strongest thread types, typically used for leatherwork and the such but um, maybe something stronger for… your needs will be needed. Hold on.”

Before he could object he watched as they scampered off towards the back of the shop, disappearing between the labyrinth of craft supplies and fabric samples. The rabbit could just stare in disbelief before groaning and readying the sword on his back, ready to chase them down and cut them down. He really was getting sloppy. But just as he was about to level the building they reappeared again, scampering up to him with a needle and a spool of some black thread.

“This is um kevlar thread, it’s typically only used for very high stress applications like high stress clothing and machinery but it could work for you. It’s very durable and probably the strongest stuff on the market! We only stock a small quantity of it but um…”

The rabbit just regarded them before he burst out into a bout of loud laughter, causing the little human to panic and jump out of their skin. Oh now this human was amusing! Slipping the sword back onto his back, he took the supplies from them, eyeing them over quickly.

“Yes I think that would do very nicely. Thank you my dear. Now to find a mirror…”

“W-we don’t have one in store I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter, you know your way around a needle I’m sure. You can do it. Probably do a better job than I would.”

“W-what!? I-I can’t sew your face up! I’m not a surgeon. B-besides won’t it hurt like hell?!” The rabbit just scoffed and grabbed them by the scruff of their shirt, rolling his eyes as he dragged them to one of the tables at the back.

��Doesn’t matter, I'm sure you’ll do a fantastic job. Besides, I've endured worse. A couple of minutes of being stabbed by a needle will be nothing more than an insect bite.” The human tried to protest again, wriggling in his grip but soon resigned themselves as he felt them slouch and mutter to themselves they knew they shouldn’t have swapped shifts.

Plopping them down, the rabbit flipped a lamp on before sitting down himself, laying out the supplies.

“Now, make sure the stitching can hold, I don’t want it breaking again. It would be inconvenient for both of us if I have to come back again because of your poor sewing skills.”

The human suddenly looked annoyed as they huffed, pouting slightly at the fact someone was questioning their skills.

“I’ll have you know that I am pretty skilled with a needle, so I won’t take any criticism before you’ve seen my work. How rude.”

The rabbit was taken aback and couldn’t help as he let out a roar of laughter, the human jumping in front of him.

“Oh how cute! Now that’s unexpected, a human with a backbone, how charming.”

Slipping an arm over his chest, he bowed his head slightly, flashing the human a smirk.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to doubt your skill, my dear. I’ll let your work talk for you then.”

Seeing a flashing of a blush on their cheeks, he could only chuckle as they tried to play it off, huffing before they motioned him to lean down so they could assess the damage.

You looked over the tear, it was luckily across what seemed some sort of the seam that ran along the demons’ face. It should be easy to repair, but sewing together skin and fur was nothing like trying to sew together fabrics! Of course you were stressed but at least the rabbit, well the demon, in front of you didn’t seem to want to rip you apart, for now. Sighing, you gently folded the seams together as the rabbit watched you, their eyes fixed on your face, observing every action and twitch in your face. Looking for anything they didn’t like, or simply studying you. It was hard to say, but it was certainly getting to you. You could feel your cheeks going pink as they huffed softly, leaning in gently to your touch as you pet the soft white fur on their head. This really shouldn’t be as distracting as it was but it was getting harder and harder to focus now! Stupid bunny demon!

Trying your best to focus you quickly started, the needle and thread easily piercing through the soft flesh and quickly beginning to pull the skin back into place. You tried hard to try and not focus on it, just thinking about what you were doing, who or what you were doing it to, was making your palms sweat and a trembling hand would never get this done. There was also the small fact you hoped you weren’t hurting the bunny. But he didn’t seem to take much notice of the needle stabbing into him, instead his attention was focused squarely on you. You really wished he would stop looking up at you with those eyes of his!

“Your hands are shaking my dear. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

You jumped as he spoke, that deep, low voice of his catching you off guard as you were trying to pay attention to the task at hand.

“W-well it’s not like I stitch demons together very often. I have every right to be nervous! I don’t know what you’ll do…”

The rabbit hummed, amused by your answer more than anything.

“That’s true, but not all demons are your enemy. Some of us can be rather charming if given a chance.”

He flashed you a quick wink making your face erupt with heart as the obvious blush crept across your cheeks. The cheek on this bunny rabbit! Pouting you stabbed the needle into his flesh for the last time, maybe a little rougher than you needed to as you saw him flinch slightly. But it seemed he agreed that he might have deserved that.

Pouting you quickly trimmed the excess thread before gently holding the demon’s cheeks as you examined the stitching. Not your finest work, but it would certainly hold you. Hopefully.

“There you’re all done, it shouldn’t come undone again. In theory anyway. You wanna take the thread in case? It’s not like I can sell it now anyway…”

As you spoke you watched as the rabbit straightened back up, feeling over the stitching himself, his fingers trailing over the once torn face, accessing the workmanship. Then after a moment or so he smiled at you, his eyes squinting slightly as he seemed genuinely impressed and pleased with your work.

“I must commend your work, you really didn’t sell yourself short my dear. And yes I think it might be for the best.”

Reaching out he took the supplies from your hand, but before you could pull your hand away, he quickly grasped your hand in his own. You couldn’t pull away, even if you had wanted to, he was far too strong. Obviously this must be it you thought, as your mind raced but instead of yanking you forward to tear you to shreds, the rabbit instead brought you hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss against it.

“However, maybe you should keep it. You never know when I might need another repair job and you have done such a fantastic job with my repairs.”

Unable to take it any more, you huffed and pulled your hand free, yelling at the demon to get out of your store as the creature only just let out another loud laugh, the enjoyment from teasing you only tickling him even more. Demons really were the worst!

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