#(in this case Mundus the king of hell but you get what I mean)

[polarisbibliotheque]

Are you into MBTI? If yes, may I ask for your idea on DMC characters types? If no then feel free to skip this ask, sorry for bothering you.

First things first, my beloved: DON’T APOLOGIZE. None of you are EVER bothering me by sending an ask – unless, of course, you’re completely crass, deranged, borderline criminal (or full criminal) with your words or just gratuitously rude. Those types are bothersome and will get blocked and ignored.

Unless I’m on an Axl Rose like rampage and want to burn and fistfight people along my way, then I’ll use the stupid being in question to pour all my anger and have a good reason to spend hours in therapy :)

But you are NOT one of those, my dear. That’s a very fun question and do feel free to ask me random things like that, I enjoy answering!

Now, I’m not really big on MBTI – I know enough about mine and my family’s so I can make things work between me and them. I also like to know my friends MBTI’s because the memes are usually freakishly accurate with all our personalities xD

I am an INTP! Quite proud, if I might say so hahahaha I like the weird vibes and I have adopted in my heart Sherlock Holmes as an INTP ‘cause he was my role model when I was a teen (I know, HORRIBLE role model, but it is what it is) – and that’s how I got into MBTI.

(more under the cut, this answer is LONG)

Big introduction for me to say: VERGIL, THIS LITTLE SHIT. INTJ. I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with him and then Dante. I won’t share my 2 cents on the rest of the crew because either they aren’t that much developed as the twins or I’m not really trusting my MBTI judging abilities here.

Without further ado…

Vergil

I debated quite a WHILE on Vergil, to be honest, because we all know INTJ is the typical villain archetype used everywhere on media because heaven forbid a villain is not calculating and devoided of emotions.

And there’s where I got a little stuck: emotions.

Vergil does have emotions, and I dare to say his run even deeper than Dante’s, so I got a little sidetracked. But then I took my own personality, INTP, and thought about it for a while. I have the same problem as Vergil: my emotions do run deep and I’m always guarding them in a dark, secret place inside of me so I won’t get hurt, opting for a more thinking, analytical and practical approach rather than the feeling approach. And oh boy does my life get difficult with feeling types like my aunt, my mom and even my sister.

I got to the conclusion, then, it’s not how you feel, but rather how you present yourself. I took the test as if I was Dante (I needed that to figure him out, not sorry) and a lot of questions are more leaning on that. It’s not that you don’t feel or don’t understand feelings, it’s more like you have a different approach when doing things and processing all of that – because it can be quite overwhelming.

So, there we go, Vergil is BLATANTLY Introverted and Thinking. The Introverted I got from what I heard some people saying that it’s not that “oh I like talking to people/I don’t like talking to people”, it’s energy: at the end of the day, do you prefer being alone to recharge or around people to recharge?

Me and my sister are opposites on that. My sister was always quieter and shy when she was a kid, and I was expansive and always came back with a new friend. Lo and behold, I’m an Introvert and she is an Extrovert. How? I HAVE and I NEED time alone, completely for myself, with NO ONE around at certain times of the day and I do get AWFULLY tired when I’m being social for too long, needing some me time with tea and a good book. My sister NEEDS to be around her friends after a long, tiring week at work, famously going to 3 parties in a row, in 3 different days, different groups, outfits and all, exiting one party to go to the other, and then BAM going to work on a Monday completely replenished. I’m an Introvert. She is an Extrovert.

Dante and Vergil seal of approval here hahahahaha

His Intuitive part, though, comes from the art – poetry, philosophy, reading, education. Vergil is obviously BIG on that, loving poetry since he was a child and always being found in libraries, we can all picture him going to art galleries, concerts, operas and such. But, particularly, I extend that to his thirst for knowledge: everyone who enjoys reading the dense stuff he does, tends to fall for philosophy, sociology, the metaphysical part of physics, mathematics, all that. There was a reason why great mathematicians of the past were also philosophers: knowledge walks together.

Loving that deeply, Vergil has to be quite Intuitive. Yes, he will do things with discipline and how they should be done to achieve the result – but he will rebel and do things his own way if the knowledge he acquired so far points him to another direction; he will follow his intuition. He’s not one to dismiss the big questions in life: quite the contrary, I think one of his favorite past-times would be drinking wine along his s/o while talking about philosophy into the wee hours of the night as if they are the only people in the world.

Vergil is an open minded, curious and always searching for the meaning of things kind of person, and I will die on this hill. There is no way a guy who likes learning so much would be against challenging his own point of views: to learn, you have to first be a novice; and to improve, you have to admit there’s much you still don’t know and keep an open mind to fail and do it again, and again, and again, until you master what you are learning. Just the way he fights tells me he is very much like that and I’m still dying on this hill.

And lastly, Judging. No, not because he’s the judgy bitch of the series who’s always side-eying someone and sighing while saying “pathetic” just because they got scared by their own shadow. I have to say I wasn’t too sure on this one when I realized Vergil could end up as an INTP and that bitch can’t be an INTP like me, I claimed it.

Jokes aside, Vergil can be quite Perceiving at times, because, wanting or not, he has had his moments of needing to improvise and spot opportunities that weren’t quite on his schedule… But, I do have to admit, INTPs are a mess and Vergil is FAR from being a mess – and when I say a mess, we are everywhere: reading 5 books at the same time, leaving them scattered all around the house, laying upside down in bed to think and come up with a great idea for something… INTPs aren’t pragmatic or schedule oriented. And Vergil would DIE in an environment like this, I think.

So, my conclusion was: his ability to survive does come from his Perceiving characteristics, but his pragmaticism comes from his Judging – and the second is a lot stronger in him. He would like the schedule, he would do things as he has programmed and, if you interrupt him, he’s counting the minutes to go back to his schedule or else everything he has carefully programmed for the week will be delayed and his plans are all but GONE (read: Verge at the Temen-ni-gru screaming “WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!” when ALL the plans he carefully executed for WEEKS so he could get to THAT moment and open the gates of Hell just went down the drain ‘cause he missed something in his calculations. Man is in excruciating pain he missed something and ALL was for NOTHING and he’d have to TRY again).

Verdict: Vergil is an INTJ. Expected, annoyingly villainous personality, but it does fit him wonderfully.

Plus, we are the 'we don't have feelings' types :D

Dante

Oh, Dante. My beloved. My red devil. The man who haunts my dreams.

Seriously, I had a REALLY hard time pinpointing his MBTI.

Remember I said I took the test as him? Yes. I did. To check some things and argue against others hahahahaa

I don’t think Dante is as black and white as Vergil. The blue devil is almost textbook INTJ, but Dante…? I have my doubts on SO many parts of his personality, because, unlike Vergil, Dante does a LOT just for show.

Starting with the Extroverted/Introverted. Most people won’t even think before saying Dante is an Extrovert, but I had my doubts when taking things in consideration. What we usually see is that, yes, he does love being around people – but Dante spends most of his time alone, without electricity, reading his old magazines at his shop, sleeping or eating pizza by himself.

Depression? Yes. YES. This man is more depressed than the San Andreas Fault. This can make people behave differently from their personalities, so I had to think a little more about it. Dante doesn’t really go out of his way to be around people, to party with his friends or just have a nice time with them around. Dante wants to be alone, because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be with people – and that they are better off without him, safer. He puts them in danger, at least that’s what’s on his mind. So, he isolates himself and prefers to spend time on his own, away from everything and everyone.

That’s where the energy thing comes into play! What gives Dante energy? Honestly, my man looks drained and just the dust of his being whenever they get to his shop and he’s been living in that condition for months. During the games AND after the games, though? He looks a lot better – even if he has been beaten up by a bunch of demons. And that’s because, I think, Dante gets energized by being around people – friends, family, loved ones. Just like my sister, he can conquer the world after going to 5 parties in a row. Vergil, in the other hand, would be drained and dying by the second one, just like Dante is when he hasn’t been around people too much, always isolating himself.

So, despite his depression that makes him behave differently, Dante is an Extrovert in my book.

One that I don’t even think too much about him is the Perceiving trait. Dante is like that, 10/10. He can’t thrive on a schedule, things in his life are Everything Everywhere All At Once, and my man is in his lane with that. Try to fit Dante in a box with a set routine and too many rules, he’s dying. Aside from that, he has a knack for improvising and finding the best opportunities in unexpected situations.

Hence why he has so many freaking weapons and is just using all of them and all of his fighting styles at the same time, taunting demons and dancing Macarena right after – and making it all look like it makes the most absolute fucking sense. No one can pull that off like Dante, king of winging it.

Now, I do believe he is Intuitive. Dante might not be the art and poetry type like Vergil, but he is well educated. He has to be, to do what he does. And I do believe his thing for philosophy shows when Dante is lecturing demons: that WHOLE answer he gives Agnus about what demons lack compared to humans, that is VERY much philosophy. Dante doesn’t just go and takes everything at face value, because, if he did, he would very much say the obvious: demons are, objectively, stronger than humans. But all the heart, all the internal things that make humans stronger than demons… That’s philosophy.

I can see Dante enjoying movies – blockbusters, yes, packed with action and special effects, but let’s remember… Titanic is a blockbuster. And there’s so much heart in that movie, so much philosophy, so much about choosing your own fate and not being tied to the one that was handed to you… Titanic can pack one hell of an existential punch and make you think about so much in your life – you just have to be open to it.

Differently from Vergil, Dante wasn’t the library and heavy books sort of guy. But he was the guy to go to the movies, to watch all of that. To go back home (wherever his home was at the moment, even if just a place for him to crash for a while) and think about everything he watched in the silent darkness of his room. To think about the things Eva taught him – and see the value of all that.

He’s not the type to go to an art gallery, or read philosophy, or go to the opera. But he will go if he is invited, he will discuss things the way he learned them, and he will enjoy it. He’d be more than willing to talk about what makes humans so precious and spend hours doing so, as he would be open to listen to his s/o explaining what makes him so human despite his demonic heritage. And he would spend days thinking about it, always willing to discuss those topics if his s/o wanted to.

He's not textbook Intuitive like Vergil, I think, but he still is, in his very own way. I’d say Vergil is academically Intuitive, while Dante learned his Intuitive trait on the streets – we all say Dante is a safespace for everything, and a man like has to be open minded and curious. If he wasn’t, he would have never welcomed Trish and given her a chance to be human: he would’ve killed her right away for being a demon. And that isn’t our red devil.

Last but not least, Dante is a Feeling. I’m always dying on this hill, even if that one ALSO made me have some doubts.

Because you see, Dante just pretends to be a goof, but he isn’t. He is very intelligent and cunning, very perceiving and observing, but wrapped in a reckless rockstar package. It’s his own way of coping, but that is what makes him SUCH a great devil hunter (sorry, Nero). Even if we might disagree on this, I do believe Dante has his emotions very much controlled.

Which is a little evidenced by the lyrics on his theme song in DMC V, Subhuman (I know we ALL love Bury The Light and Devil Trigger but OH MY GOD, I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT HOW SUBHUMAN IS AWESOME AND FITTING FOR DANTE). The song is VERY explicit how Dante is always controlling his rage and keeping his demon on a very tight leash so he has control over it all the fucking time. That isn’t very Feeling in my book – it’s quite Thinking, like Vergil.

That’s what made me think a little about Vergil’s as well. I have what might be an unpopular opinion about the twins after thinking so much about them and seeing how they react and act in all of the games: Vergil has a tendency to loose control and overkill, while Dante has a tendency to let his rage burn at the exact moment he needs it and use his power just as much as he needs to get the job done. Dante is more controlled with his emotions than Vergil – and in my opinion, it’s because Vergil bottles up and ignores his emotions until they become a storm that can’t be stopped (cough cough personal experience cough cough) while Dante controls things so he can use his emotions and let them be expressed/gets them off his system in “safe” environments for him, which would be killing demons.

So, why the heck is Dante a Feeling in my book? Precisely why Vergil is a Thinking. It has to do with how they present themselves – and that is the point that makes them so different and butt heads almost every game.

The devil on Dante’s leash is his rage, the feeling he allows and wants to run amok and uncontrolled is his love. Dante controls his bursts of anger and the demonic blood who craves for mayhem – but he doesn’t control his human heart that does everything out of empathy and love. He will run to the rescue when his loved ones are in danger, he will protect weak people against the powerful ones, he will lecture corrupted humans who see nothing but power in front of them, he will cry and he will do everything in his power to keep love alive and thriving. He will react immediately, he will understand, he will feel the pain of those who are injured and begging for help – he will let his heart melt and do everything for them.

Therefore, Dante is a Feeling. And I think that’s what makes him and Vergil opposites and always fighting: Vergil wants power and puts logic over feelings, avoiding them like the plague, while Dante wants love and puts feelings over logic, embracing them and acting out of what his human heart tells him is the right thing to do. The whole series is based on this – at least in my opinion.

Verdict: Dante is an ENFP. Didn’t really expect it, but after analyzing with care, it makes a lot of sense to me.

Also, all the memes with ENFP x INTJ relationship dynamics I just checked are basically Dante and Vergil in a nutshell - I’ll leave some of them below and you guys will HAVE to forgive me not really crediting the people who created these memes, I honestly just found on google and wanted to share so you can have an idea of what I’m talking about.

But I honestly have been wheezing for the past hour and I thank you SO MUCH anon for this ask – I hope you enjoyed this little TED Talk about the Sparda Twins’ personalities please Capcom hire me to write official canon about them

If this isn't Dante and Vergil, I dunno what is

And last but not least:

That's all the games in a nutshell, really.

[fabdante]

Expanding upon the idea that Bob was an electricity demon and that electricity demons are uniquely suited to handling/manipulating tech, including making their own little digital world(s) within certain tech like TVs or computers or CCTV cameras:

Vergil still doing his hacking stuff, but this time as the King of Hell, to subtly control and monitor the human world. Or he could just have a whole legion of electricity demons do it for him- presumably the same or similar ones as worked for Bob, assuming Limbo collapsing into the real world didn't blow their covers, in which case they'd have to start all over again with new identities/positions, under Vergil. The ones that are still alive, anyway. Do you think Vergil would avoid using them to keep an eye on Kat and Dante, since we know Kat and Dante (or maybe JUST Dante, post Limbo collapse? But I'd hate to exclude Kat from this stuff, and screw it, humanity could use some advantages against demons) can see demons and demonic corruption, even through whatever veil Limbo gave the demons? At least until he has them more firmly established elsewhere on Earth, anyway. Best way to not have your Evil Plans foiled by the heroes is to just not do stuff pertaining to your Evil Plan in the same city/country that the heroes are in, after all!

I do still love the idea of Vergil learning how to do this kind of stuff himself, tbh, rather than just leaving it to his electricity demons. Just because we've seen preboot Dante take on powers of demons he's killed, like the Quicksilver Style from Geryon and Doppleganger Style from Doppleganger the Deathvoid in DMC3. So it'd make sense if reboot Vergil could do something similar here, too, with the electricity demons. He'd probably have to kill at least one of them to absorb/learn their powers, but still, I could see him doing it.

(Could also see him sparring with the Dreamrunners and Drekavac, too, just to hone his swordsmanship and portaling skills with the Yamato, but that's another topic.)

Side note 1:

I wonder if the Geryon horses are still a thing in the reboot? I mean, Mundus won, and Geryon are pretty useful tools, given that they can control time and teleport and maybe have something to do with moving the souls of the dead, so it'd make sense that Mundus would keep them around. It'd also make sense for Eva and Sparda to target them, too, precisely BECAUSE the Geryon are so useful. Maybe that's where Mundus got his weird time controlling powers? Sparda and Eva kept killing off his Geryon, so he just figured, "Fuck it" and ate/absorbed them to gain all their powers for himself instead? Or at least however much power was left, depending on how many Geryon remained by that point.

Side note 2:

I wonder if that means the Griffons can do the whole "digital world" thing, too? I mean, they are, technically, electricity demons. (And also air/storms. So, uh. Not sure what Mundus could do with that, but ok.) But just given their temperment (or at least, the temperament of Griffon in DMC1, which I'm just gonna use as a reflection on the Griffon species of demon as a whole, since Griffon DMC1 WAS one of Mundus' top minions, after all), I feel like they'd be better suited to something else, y'know? Assuming all Griffons are as noble and honorable as the Griffon we meet in DMC1.

Same question for Alastor- at least, assuming Alastor is still a demon or even race of demons and not a Devil Arm, like the Alastor Devil Arm we get in DMC1.

Side note 3:

Do you think Nightmare exists in the reboot universe? Or the Leviathan? I mean, Mundus made both of those things in the preboot as sort of biomechanical demon weapons, and he even used his own blood to make Nightmare, so maybe???

All of this is really fun and interesting!!

I've always seen post game reboot Vergil surveilling at least Kat because the two of them are deeply unhealthy when separated (not that they're particularly healthy together but look asdfghjk) I've always seen it as something more magic based though then like real world based, though the CCTV angle makes a lot of sense and could be interesting to play with. Particularly because Dante and Kat wouldn't really be able to track him if he's just going to hack into human world systems from his new home in hell.

I think also I'd lean more into Vergil figuring out these things for himself because he does seem like the kind of guy who does not like to ask for help and would rather overwork himself then delegate things he's deemed important, so it makes sense that he'd want to do this himself.

(Also yes to him sparring with higher level demons from the game to hone his skills very about this 11/10)

Anyway, onto side note 1: I tend to view the demon types between the games as pretty separate so I never really considered if there were Geryon horses in the reboot!! I think though if I were to include them I'd probably go about it by having them be rarer, lower circle demons. Meaning they're deeper in hell then we see in game. Since Devil May Cry as a whole is (loosely) inspired by the Divine Comedy, I lean into the circles of hell thing when building their version of hell and the deeper you go, the bigger and stronger the demons. Sort of like how the ocean works, I guess. So if I were to include them, I think I'd have them rarer on the upper rings because they're brought from lower rings. And it'd make sense for high ranking demons like Mundus or even Sparda to see them as a sort of power and status symbol and tool for battle but they're hard to come by, and perhaps all the ones in Limbo had died a long time ago during some of the angel wars or due to something Eva and Sparda did.

Side note 2: If I were to include Griffons in the reboot verse I think I would focus their abilities a lot more on the natural world rather then the digital world! I'm not sure what I'd have them be doing, though, perhaps something like the Hunters tracking or something? I'm not sure. They are just giant birds of pray, though, so maybe.

Side note 3: I don't know if those things would exist! I don't really want to say reboot Mundus is weaker then preboot Mundus but I tend to characterize reboot Mundus as a lot more...tethered? I guess? He seems a lot more stuck to his tower and the hellgate where he's drawing power and the state we're seeing him in often makes me wonder if he's the weakest he's ever been. We know from the game that he's attached himself to his human body and to the hellgate and that he can't like...leave the hellgate (perhaps if there were more he could go between them but there aren't more at the moment, there's just the one). When he's untethered from the hellgate, sure he takes the whole city and turns himself into a sort of Nightmaresque monstrosity. But before then, before the hellgate is closed, he doesn't leave until Dante provokes him. Even when his child is killed he just sends out an attack which is, yeah, powerful and devastating but he still doesn't leave. So I wonder if he'd have the energy to make things that big and powerful at this point in time. But I don't know, he could possibly do that! But I think for the way I tend to headcanon the reboot universe, at the moment I'm not sure.

[anapproachingstorm]

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do? 2. How easy is it for your character to laugh? 3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

 Dependent upon his mood and what’s happening around him, Vergil can be an astoundingly patient creature. He draws heavily from his father in that respect. As he grows older, he seeks out thrones chairs with more appropriate back and lumbar support, but given that, he can sit for several hours and ponder his own thoughts, run over scenarios in his mind, plot and scheme, his thoughts steeping like tea bags in hot water. His default position is usually straight backed, right leg crossed over left, with his hands folded over his knee.

In his younger years, when he was more limber and far more into the Asian culture associated with his beloved companion sword, Yamato, he would kneel as a Samurai would, seated with his hands on his thighs, paying little heed to the pain in his knees. 

Time is cruel to us all though, and those days are long gone.

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Have.. Have you met Vergil?

There are glaciers, currently chillin out in Norway, that have better senses of humor. That’s not to say that things don’t make him amused, but getting a laugh out of him is like sandpapering an alligator’s ass. This stems mostly from his sour demeanor as it exists, as well as underlying self-consciousness. Dante once told him he had an “evil” laugh, so Vergil demurred and refrained from laughing out loud. Sometimes he can muster a truly sadistic, mean-spirited chuckle, historically at the misfortune of his twin, though now that they find themselves on better terms, at the actions of another, stand-in foe.

Now, yes, before I get any thirsty asks about it, Vergil is ticklish. That doesn’t mean he laughs if someone gets a lucky shot in, it means that he’s going to grit his teeth, make a sound like a dying animal, and attempt to murder whoever dared to touch him. Romantic partners MIGHT eventually get that reaction if they engage in this kind of play, but don’t hold your breath. I SEE YOU THIRSTY PEOPLE. I SEE YOU. A CHARACTER IS OUTED AS TICKLISH AND Y’ALL COME IN DROVES.

Ironically, after returning from Hell, two people have been able to crack the Ice King’s façade. One of them was Lady, when she called Dante a “baboon-faced bastard,” and the other was one of Nero’s little friends .. Nico.. Specifically when she said that a foe was “uglier’n homemade soup.”

As things warm between the twins, more of Dante’s humor is able to crack at Vergil’s shell, and alone, when it’s just those two, there MIGHT be some bawdy discussions that cause them both to end up slightly breathless in the wake of them..

Read into all that that as little, or as much, as you wish~

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Though no longer plagued by the more vicious effects from his time as Nelo Angelo and the associated suffering at the hands of Mundus, his nightmares were not wholly defeated with the loss of his beloved pets familiars. To his credit, Vergil has gotten much better at self-soothing when the PTSD rears its ugly head, but he still struggles with sleep.

More often than not, Vergil chases sleep at night. He’ll toss, he’ll lay awake. He’s tried everything. He tried to read himself to sleep, but he just ended up reading until dawn, his eyes red and burning with strain. He tried to do menial tasks in the hopes of exhausting his brain enough. He probably cleaned Yamato to the point where the demon arm was annoyed with it, but that didn’t help. Out of desperation, Vergil turned to suggestions from everyone BUT Dante. Kyrie suggested hot milk and tea, but that just meant Vergil was getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. Nico suggested watching TV or having white noise.. But then he just became annoyed with the stupid infomercials, hocking a knife that certainly could not slice through time and space, so why on earth was it $19.99??? Lady said maybe he needed a woobie, but when he showed clear ignorance as to what that meant, and she replied “like a baby blanket or a teddy—“ he had stormed off, embarrassed. Trish had suggested he find someone to sleep with, and offered herself as a warm body and .. he had stormed off, embarrassed.

At a loss, Dante once found him in the kitchen, head down on the table, listening to the clock tick, and thunked a fifth of whiskey in front of him. He said that he had vague memories of Eva rubbing some on his gums when he had a tooth ache or a cough and it’d help knock him out. Vergil found the notion unhealthy, but as he hadn’t slept in three nights, he relented. That only helped knock him out for that night but did little to get him where he needed to go.. He wasn’t about to drink himself to sleep every night, Cambion healing factor and his poor liver be damned.

Finally, however, something had to give. In this case? Vergil found an old, worn blue quilt in the storage of the shop and made it his own. He has no idea why. He doesn’t question it.. He’s just glad he can get some sleep without having to deep-throat a chainsaw via Jim Beam to do it.

Fuck does this mean Lady was right..?

[prolestariwrites]

Dadgil Week Day #4: Memories/Stories Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil, Nero Tags: Angst, Family Part 4 of 7

Nero is dozing in front of the fire, so Vergil uses the opportunity to study him. It’s nearing midnight, but he doesn’t need much sleep; two or three hours is plenty for him, whether it’s his demon blood or the utter lack of rest he experienced in Hell, he could not say. But he finds some comfort in how easily Nero can rest, slouched in his very typical way in his chair, his head back and mouth slightly open. 

Vergil would never admit it, but he finds the same sort of comfort when Dante sleeps. He suspects it is the simplicity of the act, feeling safe enough to close his eyes. Often his brother just crashes on the leather couch, proclaiming it more comfortable than his bed, or dozes in his chair. There is no need to listen for footsteps, no cracking of bone or the grinding of his empty stomach, no drip drip drip of blood in his eyes. Just a well-worn couch and a rumpled up coat and a lock on the door to keep the world outside.

Nero is older now than Vergil was when he was defeated by Mundus. He tries to remember it clearly, but a lot of that is impossible now. Everything before falling from the tower and everything after eating the Qliphoth fruit are crystal clear, but those years between are a blur of the real and imagined. But as he closely inspects him, Vergil thinks Nero looks like Dante, maybe if his hair was longer. Of course, Vergil is no longer the perfect match of his twin, his face being broken and battered and shredded and regrown so many times that by the time Mundus was killed he looked different.

Those memories aren’t comfortable, and Vergil shifts in his chair. He considers waking up Nero to send him into the van, but at his movement Nero snaps awake, his hand on the revolver that hangs at his side. “What is it?” he asks breathlessly, blinking rapidly.

“Nothing. You should go to bed,” Vergil replies.

Nero stretches, sitting up in his chair. “Nah. Want to keep an eye out a bit longer. This thing can show up any time during the full moon.”

“I can keep watch,” offers Vergil. “I don’t require as much sleep.”

There is no answer to that, so he watches Nero poke the fire with a stick. The burning wood makes a crackling sound that is too loud, as if showing off how little they have to say. It is the perfect opportunity for Vergil to talk and explain or offer answers, but as always, he doesn’t know what to say.

“Why haven’t you ever killed this creature?” Vergil finally asks.

Nero shrugs. “We’ve tried. Not so easy. It’s fast as hell, and doesn’t really have a body. It can move around like a… mass. Kind of like how Shadow was?” His eyes go a bit wide as he rushes on, “Sorry, is that like, do you remember Shadow? Is that weird to say?”

“I remember it,” Vergil replies. Nightmare and Shadow and Griffon, pieces of him that still visit his dreams.

“Right.” He can tell that Nero is uncomfortable, but Vergil doesn’t know how to help, since he is just as uncomfortable. “Anyway, it’s fucking hard to kill. We scare it off basically. I’m guessing if it’s not this full moon it can’t manifest.”

“Interesting.” A piece of him wishes to analyze that, and he thinks of his journal that he had left at home. Vergil had been cataloguing all the types of demons and devils that they had fought, wanting a comprehensive list in case something or someone from Hell showed up to find the king. 

Nero snorts as he crosses his legs. “Yeah, interesting. Guess you could say that.” He raises his arms and yawns before hooking his hands behind his head, a gesture that Vergil recognizes from Dante. Is it genetic, or did he pick it up? “You know what happened to those guys anyway? Griffon and Shadow? They were uh…” He laughs and shakes his head, grinning at the fire. “An interesting bunch.”

“I don’t know exactly,” Vergil admits. He looks at the fire too, trying to examine his memory. Had he felt them leave? He was whole again when it had happened, and he remembers… something. But the Qliphoth fruit had been so fresh in his veins in that moment that he doesn’t trust much from his own mind. “They were there, then they weren’t. They weren’t real anyway, not in simplest terms. They were nightmares come to life.”

Nero leans forward, and Vergil feels a bit pinned being so scrutinized. “Nightmares about what?”

Vergil swallows thickly. “You know that I was in Hell.”

“Right, but…” Vergil watches Nero shake his head, his heart thudding a bit in a mixture of anxiety and relief. “I mean, you went back, with Dante? And you didn’t come out with familiars.”

The truth is best in this situation. Vergil knows this, deep down, and he stares at the fire, feeling a burning inside. Part of him wants to curse Dante for never telling him this stuff. Every time another piece is revealed, Nero is hurt, so why didn’t he ever just… No, Vergil scolds himself. Nero is his son, and giving him the truth is his duty as a father. As easy as it would be to fall into his pattern of blaming Dante and directing this emotion towards him, Vergil won’t do it. He does not take the easy way out.

“I will tell you a story that happened over twenty years ago,” he says. Vergil keeps his gaze on the fire, not wanting to see Nero’s face, afraid his reactions will cause him to falter. “You must imagine, Nero, a boy of nineteen, who has been alone in the world for a decade. This boy lives on the streets, stealing to eat, the memories of his family fading like the twilight. The only reason he remembers anything at all is because every so often, monsters emerge from the shadows to eat him.

“Then the boy meets a man who gives him a sword. He says it belonged to his father, and tells him stories of how his father was a hero of imaginable power. How he, just a young man, hungry and dirty and homeless, could get that power too. Can you imagine how incredible that sounded? He didn’t have to hide anymore, no more hunger pains, no more monsters. 

“But the story is too fantastic, even for the boy. So he goes to investigate, to find out all he can about his father. And each place he goes he finds it’s true. All of it. His father was a legendary knight, who was not only powerful, but saved humanity. He was a good guy. His power was good, so the boy thinks, that means if I use that power, I am good too.

“Now imagine he finds out his brother is alive. All this time, he thought his family was gone, but his brother was not only alive but taken care of. He had clothes and a home and a sword of his own. How did that happen? It weighs on him, but he goes to see him and share this news of their legacy. But his brother is not interested. He doesn’t want this power, doesn’t need it. Can you see how much of a betrayal that would be? The boy needs the power to do good things, not for himself, no, never for himself. To save humanity, just like his father did.

“When his brother arrives to stop him, it is another betrayal. He—he cares for his brother, and now that he has power he remembers so much that had faded away. Being defeated is… was…”

Vergil swallows painfully, his chest tight. “Go on,” Nero says, his voice even. “What did the boy do next?”

The corner of Vergil’s mouth curls up. “He jumped into Hell. He thought, if I don’t have this power here, with the humans, then I’ll take it from the demons themselves. He couldn’t go back to that, you see. He couldn’t live on the streets or steal or be worthless and dirty and hungry again. Not now.

“The king of Hell was too powerful. They were no match, a boy of nineteen with a sword against a king and his kingdom. The king does not take prisoners, but he made an exception for this one. You see, the boy’s father had betrayed him thousands of years ago. The king had sat and stewed on this for millennia. The demon was gone but his son was right there, so he…”

The fire is crackling loudly, as if in response to Vergil’s story. His chest is now too tight to go on, his mouth moving to form words. But there is not enough air in his lungs to push his voice out, so he stops to catch his breath.

Nero does not speak or move, letting the story live between them for now. Finally the pain eases enough for Vergil to lift his head, and he finds his son staring at him stone-faced, fear bright in his eyes. “The familiars were leftovers from that time. They were useful to V, but I’m glad they are gone.”

His son blinks rapidly as he sucks in a deep breath. Then Nero stands and stalks to the van, opening the door to climb inside before slamming it shut.

[the-princess-atta]

Changing Seasons || Attendy

Summary: Atta tells Wendy the truth and they break up :( 

@flippin--corduroy

ATTA: 

She’d been avoiding Wendy.

She did not want to avoid Wendy, but at first she’d not known what to do. There was much to organize now that Atta would resume her talent, and the Hollow was full of buzz at the reveal that there was not only a royal, but that the royal was...well...her… the list-making tinker from the Orkney Hollow. She needed space and time to deal with all of that first. This was what Atta told herself. Once things calmed, then she’d contact Wendy and explain…

But when things did calm, she realized that an explanation would come with an ending. That was the only choice. That had always been the only choice. Royals could love, of course they could love. There was nothing in the rules, really, that said they couldn’t. But they didn’t. Because it wouldn’t be best for the Hollow. 

And loving a human mundus? They certainly never did that.

And so Atta needed to stop being cruel, and sending unclear texts and making up excuses about her classes and her duties. So, finally, she asked Wendy to meet her somewhere, and they returned to Chippamunka, where they’d had their first date.

Atta’s first ever date.

She regretted coming here the moment she sat down and she stared at the menu in front of her. An awkward silence festered between both her and Wendy in those initial minutes. The words were lodged in Atta’s throat. She didn’t want to say them. She still wanted a way around all this, but she knew there wasn’t, and this-- like so many things-- was her responsibility.

She stirred a little sugar into her water and finally cleared her throat. “I ah...first of all, I just… wanted to apologize for things in recent weeks. And for scaring you on the ice.”  

WENDY

Wendy knew something had been up. Atta had been dodging plans and texts for the better part of the last few weeks. She was always busy with something in the Hollow or with her sister or with school. Honestly, Wendy felt like the needy one in all this and it wasn’t a great feeling when you were used to being the girl who was aloof and chill and noncommittal. 

What worried her more was that when Atta had next resurfaced again, she asked her to Chippamunka. It was their first date spot. The night where Wendy really got to know and understand the fairy she’d been crushing on and flirting with. It was the night of their first kiss and the night she gave her the case for the log that had begun their friendship. It was all just so heavy and Wendy wasn’t one to get into heavy. 

So she gave Atta a smile and they had a little bit of a small talk but that awkward silence came. The moment where Wendy could ask what’s up with Atta but didn’t because well, she didn’t want to make it seem like she’d made more of this relationship than what Atta had intended. Maybe she was just more attached. Maybe they were just on the wrong pages of this story. 

Wendy played with the condensation on her soda glass, fingers drawing little patterns in the beads of water, leaning back in her chair a bit and glancing between the glass and Atta.

Then Atta started and although Wendy had expected it to go this way, she still felt her heart sink lower. It wasn’t a good beginning and it sounded really formal, like she and Atta were in a meeting or something and not two friends (or two something-mores).

“It’s alright. I mean, it’s not every day you save a girl from an icy fall.” Wendy tried to joke but it landed flat. “I’m just glad you’re okay, and you know, now that I’ve seen you, there’s physical evidence to prove it.” 

She gave a shrug of one shoulder and a slight smile before breathing out, maybe she should just come to the conclusion first before Atta had time to say it, rip the bandaid off, “As for the last couple weeks, maybe I just read signals wrong and put more into this than I should have. I didn’t mean to badger you with texts or anything.”

ATTA: 

Her eyes widened. Oh no, no, no, that wasn’t what she wanted Wendy to think at all! The guilt turned into a cascading waterfall, drenching Atta underneath it. She reached forward without thinking, taking Wendy’s beautiful strong hands and squeezing one of them, as if she were much smaller. She’d always loved Wendy’s hands, since the second she saw them. They made beautiful things. 

“No! No, you didn’t-- nothing you did was wrong,” blurted Atta. “I was the confusing one. I...didn’t mean to be. Everything I said was true. Well--” 

Atta had practiced this speech. She had turned this whole conversation into a task to be checked off, or perhaps similar to a duty to perform. However, now that she was sitting right here, she couldn’t find her way to the words. Everything felt just...wrong.

She drew her hand back and her eyes got a bit shiny. She glanced away quickly, breathed in softly, and then out again. 

If she were to be honest, then she’d have to confess to Wendy now that she had lied from the start. Wendy would probably be angry with her, as she should be. Maybe that would be for the best. It would be a sudden, painful break. 

“No, it wasn’t. It--” she stumbled, took another breath and then finally looked back at Wendy again. “I haven’t been honest from the start, actually. You see, I...I’m not a tinker, like I told you or everyone else. In my old Hollow, before it was destroyed, I…” 

It was still hard to say it. Every single time, she wanted to break down and cry as if she was confessing to murdering her own Hollow. (For some reason these two things felt the same.)

“I am what’s called a royal-talent. A princess. I...was going to become queen when our King stepped down. But then...the oil spill and…” she trailed off and looked down, fiddling with a braided bracelet on her wrist. 

WENDY

The redhead’s brows furrowed as Atta started backtracking and trying to explain herself into a circle. Atta took her hands and she felt warm again, like awkwardness had melted away to a warm feeling and she wasn’t here getting broken up with. Because that’s what was happening right? That’s what this was leading up to. Atta’s hands were small and soft, but strong. Her thumbs ran along the backs of them as they held hands for a moment before Atta pulled back.

And when Atta pulled back and hesitated, it was that she’d lied about something. Was she seeing someone else? Wendy had heard polyamory was kind of a thing in fairy culture was that it? She bit her lip, wondering what she’d lied about. She thought they’d told each other everything. That’s what this was. It was honest, right? They could just be themselves.

Well, apparently Atta hadn’t necessarily been herself with how this conversation had turned.

As Wendy let Atta talk her mind raced as to what she could’ve found so terrible as to hide from Wendy. The redhead never thought anything Atta had ever been was bad. Atta could’ve honestly done no wrong in the woodworkers eyes, but then again, maybe she’d been seeing all this with rose colored glasses. Blinded by her infatuation or something like that. 

Her heart hammered in her chest when Atta confessed she was lying from the very beginning. She just wanted to know. 

And then it came out. A royal talent. She was supposed to become queen. She was… a princess? Wendy had literally been dating a fairy princess? 

She was silent a moment as her eyes widened, trying to process this new information before a small grin appeared on her face, “So… I’ve been kissing a princess this whole time?” She snorted slightly, “Atta… I’m not gonna judge you because you’re a fairy princess or something. I mean yeah that’s like a big part of your life but that doesn’t change things for me.” 

And once that came out of her mouth her smile faded because it finally dawned on her, her voice grew quiet and a bit meek. “But… it does for you, doesn’t it?” It wasn’t really a question. “I… well, I mean I don’t want to be like offensive to fairy culture if this is wrong but are you about to tell me that you need to marry a fairy prince?” She looked down at the table a bit, drawing little doodles with her finger tips on the table top.

This was like getting the shit end of the stick in a romantic comedy wasn’t it? When a royal hides their identity and you find out you’ve been dating them all along. If Wendy were the character in that movie, she’d say she could learn. They’d stand up to the king or queen and say, this is the person I’m going to marry. But this wasn’t a movie and Wendy wasn’t ready for marriage, hell she didn’t even know if they’d been dating. And try as she might… Wendy would never be a fairy.

ATTA: 

Atta was once again a coward. She sat there and let Wendy stumble her way through the news. She watched, like watching a dam collapse in on itself, as Wendy realized what Atta was really saying. It was easier that way, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to have to explain that she could not kiss Wendy anymore. That they would not have any more coffee dates on campus, nor go ice skating on the lake. 

In fact, Atta did not know what her life was going to look like in the coming moons. She was still discussing her training with Clarion, considering she had come so far in her old Hollow before its destruction. She and Clarion were in completely new territory, unsure how long it would take for Atta to make a proper connection with the pixie tree, to absorb the amount of memories she would need to. Perhaps they would flood in. Or perhaps it would be a mere trickle, and she’d spend the next twenty years starting her training all over. 

Either way… she knew what the duties would be. There was no place for Wendy there. 

Her heart sank. The tears in her eyes shined, making her blue eyes even bluer. But she was a royal-talent and she had to start acting like it again. And in this respect at least, it was easy. It was much, much too easy to hold all those tears back. 

But when she took a breath, it was a heavy breath, and she felt exhausted already like she’d been flying for days without rest. 

She smiled very sadly. “No, I don’t...have to marry a fairy prince. We don’t have those. In fact, the way our Hollows work...there is only one royal-talent at a time. Two, I suppose, if there is an apprentice. But when it’s my time to protect the Hollow and become Queen, Queen Clarion will lose her connection with the tree. She will step down and live the rest of her days out peacefully, and I will rule for as long as it takes for another royal-talent to be born. So you see, I… I won’t… it isn’t appropriate for me to see anyone.” 

Before Wendy, Atta had not even given it much thought at all, for she had wanted to do her best, and she had more than enough love for her Hollow and her family. 

“Which is why I’m so grateful I was able to experience a little bit of that with you. I...know it was unfair of me, and selfish, but I really didn’t intend...I didn’t think I would make a new connection with the Enchantra’s tree because it wasn’t mine, I really didn’t. When it happened, I was shocked and scared and...I didn’t know what to do. I handled it poorly, and I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you because of that.” 

WENDY

The minute Atta’s eyes shone those tears, Wendy wanted to reach across the table and wipe them from her eyes. She wanted to do anything. Honestly, just anything, other than have this conversation and be told that they were too different. That they came from different cultures and had different responsibilities. Because in the last few months, Wendy had only known that they had become more and more the same. They shared the same interests. Laughed at the same things. Wendy’s smile reflected Atta’s. And even now, Wendy’s eyes and heart fought hard not to join Atta in the hopelessness and just glisten with tears. 

“Queen Atta.” Wendy said simply with a sad sort of smile, “Fits.” She said simply, her fingers playing with her napkin as her eyes broke from the other girl’s. “You always sort of were one to me you know. A fairy princess, basically. You just… It was hard to not see that there was something inherently special about you.”

Wendy glanced up at Atta again, this time her eyes definitely betrayed her, “I mean this is all like a lot and from what I’m understanding you couldn’t have known, not after what had happened so I don’t--Atta just please don’t think I’m mad at you for this.” She bit down on her lip trying to figure out her words, “Did I think the whole waiting game of it all was kind of you know, handled not so great the last couple weeks? Well, yeah. But, I’m not mad. I guess I just sort of know where I stand with you which is I guess what I wanted in the first place.” That was a lie if she dug deep enough, what she wanted in the first place was Atta.

“I wish I knew what to say, you know?” She gave a slight laugh, looking up at the ceiling as if that would somehow give her an answer and stop her eyes from watering. “I just never really expected circumstance to be the reason we ended.” The redhead ran her fingers along the table, leaning forward a bit and adjusting herself in her seat, she took in a breath trying to focus on something other than the clenching feeling in her chest and the emotions that washed over her, “Um, do you still think we can hang out or are you going to be kind of in the Hollow more?”

ATTA: 

Atta hadn’t expected this either. Her time with Wendy had really been a faerytale, to use the language of the humans. It was an escape from her life, from her grief, from her sadness, and from herself. She’d learned so much. She’d become so much. And it was all thanks to Wendy, really-- she owed her so much. Without Wendy, Atta wasn’t sure if Swynlake would have felt close to something like...home. 

But what could have been a terrifying, strange place, full of new challenges, had transformed into an adventure. Because she had Wendy there to help her. 

The tears pricked her eyes again, but she knew they were not the type of tears that would fall. The weight in her chest was too heavy for something like tears. It was the type of weight that carved out a huge canyon between the two of them, and that boundary was something that Atta knew she shouldn’t cross. She wanted to. But--Atta could play out what that relationship would look like and she knew it was a ship beached from the beginning. After all, she wouldn’t have time to spend much time out of the Hollow. Atta would stop aging quite soon. Wendy wouldn’t. Wendy couldn’t live in the Hollow, even if, like Atta had said so many times, she would make an excellent tinker…

And even if she could remove some of those obstacles, Atta would never be able to share the most important things with Wendy. The traditions, the stories, the day-to-day struggles… 

That wasn’t a relationship. Wendy deserved more than that.

All Atta could offer was friendship instead. And so she smiled and nodded. “I will be in the Hollow a lot more but-- I mean, I talked to Queen Clarion and she actually thinks it’s a good idea I continue on in my Pride U studies. So we can definitely be friends. I--I would love to be friends, if that isn’t asking too much,” she finished quietly. “I understand though if...you don’t want to.” 

WENDY

Well that was good right? Atta was going to keep up her Pride U stuff so they could still hang out. That was totally fine. They could hang out and not like cuddle or kiss or make out or flirt or you know, act coupley right? That was totally doable. Sure. Lesbians always were better at remaining friends with their ex’s right? If Atta was even an ex. She kind of felt like an ex but they had never been dating officially.

Wendy gave a slight smile at that, “I think we can be friends, Atta.” And that was the truth. She thought they could. She didn’t know for sure that it would work but she thought, sure, why not, they could do it. They had common interests and it would be totally fine.

They’d had a really good run. She might’ve really fallen for the fairy if they’d continued so its probably better off that they didn’t. She could just go back to flirting with women in Pixie’s and hooking up without thinking about Atta and faltering. She was uninhibited now. She knew where they stood, she should be happy right?

Then why did this feel like she almost knocked herself out with a low hanging tree limb she hadn’t seen before? (Yeah that had happened more than once being out in the forest at her height). Whatever, it would have never worked and now it won’t. Good to know.

ATTA: 

Atta smiled back, but it didn’t really reach her eyes. Though Wendy was taking everything gracefully, all Atta could feel was… sad. 

In that moment, staring at Wendy, it was like looking at a life she could never have. That was her punishment. If she had been honest from the very first day she stepped into the Enchantra Hollow, she would never have pursued Wendy in the first place. She would have resumed her training. If she and Wendy met, she would have introduced herself as Princess of the Hollow, and remained at a distance always. There would have never been dates to Chippamunka, kisses in dusty workshoppes that smell like the forest, or laughter on ice skating rinks. 

And there would never have been a need for good-bye. 

But then… if Atta played all that out, she supposed the two of them might not have even become friends. Just...acquaintances. Perhaps business partners, considering Oaken’s deal with Queen Clarion. And that alternative was even more sad, even if it would have spared Atta’s heart and Wendy’s time. Everything happened for a reason; wasn’t that what fairies believed? And didn’t fairies also know that nothing was permanent? Friends came for a season and were gone the next, but that didn’t make the time any less special. 

Atta just wished things were different. One day, she supposed, that feeling would fade like the colour on spring leaves. 

“Thank you Wendy. For everything. I… am so glad we met, really, truly. I’m sure we’ll be friends for a long time.”

[andieperrie18]

Submit to Me (Vergil x Reader/Oc)

Based on (G)-Idle's song Oh my God. Hope ya guys like it. I might post it on Ao3 but with a full smut. If I can.

A news crawled its way up from the underworld and was brought to the attention the eldest son of Sparda.

A grave news that made his thunder a wrath worse that a hurricane.

The Demon King is dead.

Mundus is dead.

           The fellow was said to be mercilessly dismembered to the smallest chunks that would have put the Egyptian god of the Underworld to shame. After being left to chunks, he was fed to the three headed guard dog who had surrendered to the dominion of the new ruler of the underground without question.

           Word spread like a wild fire to the berserkers of the human world. Some demons retreated to the underworld and submitted themselves to themselves to the new sovereign of hell. Although there are still some who didn’t submit, most of them mainly were she devils and demons who are rumored that envied the new ruler greatly that they have loathed how she has every demons kneeling to her feet. The same way the demon king did before he met his untimely and gruesome death.

           “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean you barging in to the underworld.” His younger brother clad in a dirty red coat slouched back to his seat, legs rested above the work desk before him. Vergil fixed his coat and held the yamato in one hand as he prepped for his departure to meet the thief who stole his prey before he could even make a move to annihilate.

           “I spent my days here thinking of ways to bring the demon king down. And now to find out that a mere she devil has taken that opportunity from me makes my blood boil.” The pale skin transitioned to a bony white hue as Vergil gripped the katana even tighter than before.

           Dante could see the dark blue aura the male radiated that showed the Halfling’s wrath. Vergil’s thirst for superiority through power will forever be etched in him, if a simple repeating behavior is done until the child comes to age, it will become his personality, in this case, Vergil’s search for power to quench his thirst for superiority.

           “I’ll show that low grade demon what true power is. If Mundus is stupid enough to submit to her lustful wiles, then she cannot fool me.”

           With those final statements, he unsheathes the Yamato and slashed two slices in the air, cutting space and time itself to bring him a portal to the Underworld. He struts forward with this brother shaking his head left to right.

           “Oh Vergil, if that she devil tricked that almighty demon king to submit to her. I don’t think you can stand a chance. Since you had Nero.” Dante laid back and stared to the roof of his shop.

           Vergil emerged from the cross portal, standing before the heat and screams. Before him was a long crumbling thin rock bridge that is actually more sturdy than what it actually looks. A person or creature with no balance will fall to his/her death to the moat of boiling blood and fire beneath it. He looked down, he could see millions and millions of soul trampling over another with a false hope to be out of the unending pain. Moans and cries of sinners singed beneath the once home and dominion of Mundus.

           Face fall forward and he strut to his enemy. His eyes did not linger to any white noise and continued onward until he reached the double doors.

           Vergil’s face curled to a frown and brought his foot. A loud thud rumbled across the halls of the throne room, the two doors burst open. Roars and prowls replied back as scampering feet scratched the dirt floor of the throne room hall. Demons emerged from each pillar and stalked forward to the intruder.

           The son of Sparda stood before a sea of growling beasts. He did not speak but loudly removed the scabbard of the Yamato. Letting his body form the stance to attack.

           SHE watched as he slashed down every creature that came his way. The stone cold faced morphed into a grimace with every angry slice, he didn’t even let any of them get a scratch on his coat. Teeth clutched the bottom lip, eyes shut half lidded as she remained her sight to the Halfling barreling forward towards her throne.

           “Mmmhh…how scrumptious…” Her thighs shut close as her left hand clutched her clothed womanhood, heaving heavy breaths and cheeks so red that almost matched the color of her lips as if she was watching a live intercourse before her eyes.

           The thing excited her the most was that she he has volunteered to serve himself to be in the presence of Her Highness. A moan escaped her throat, her lips curling to a lust-filled smirk that can turn any mortal man to a puddle of their own orgasm.

           Vergil strode forwards slashing continuously. The horde grew no matter how many he slashes down. Like he was cutting a Hydra’s head only to have two more grow back. He was in the brink of a decision to trigger to his Devil form until a voice halted the demons, with him along with them.

           He heard it clear with his heightened senses, the tone belong to a woman. He wouldn’t have stopped to anyone’s order but when he heard it, every fiber of his body halted and a goose bumps traveled its way along his spine.

           “That’s enough my darlings.”

           He slowly stood up from his bent form from fighting as the sea of demons split in to two, creating a pathway for his eyes to follow. From the floor, to the few steps up to the alter, to a pair of crossed smooth, milk white skin legs, up to a seated petite body in a tight sleeveless dress with a heart shaped chest line that revealed her cleavage shamelessly, up to her white neck that can make any vampire crave, and to her face and blonde locks.

           Everything he thought and said about showing the killer of Mundus were shoved back to his throat as he mentally mouth watered at the sight of the she devil.

           “My! my! my! If it isn’t a lucky day indeed. The son of Sparda serves himself to me as my dessert.” Vergil could see the overwhelming want in her eyes that screamed threat all over the place.

           “Come close my brave knight.”

           And in an instant he climbed towards her. Every part of him obliged to her order, his teeth gritted as if holding himself back from her wiles only for his own body to disobey his own mind. He flicked his glare towards the woman seated on the crystal throne.

           His eyes met here piercingly lustful looking ones. It was already too late before he could turn away.

           Her smile grew wider and hungrier as he approached. Biting her bottom lips and sliding in her seat left to right in a slow manner. He dropped to his knees and had the other perched up with a feet planted on the ground. His sword was already sheathed back to its scabbard with him having no memory of how it came and his other arm rested on the arched leg.

           “Leave us.” The she devil’s voice slither to every demon’s ear like a tickle. Even the Halfling himself, bringing tingles at the tip of his fingers and a sharp breath out his lungs. The creatures obeyed with ease and left the room. The she devil turns to the male.

           Vergil wanted to speak, to ask the devil if she indeed killed Mundus but before he could, he felt himself stiffen, with a pair of hands traveling all over his chest and a presence from behind him. Lips trailed over the shell of his right ear, an unintentional groan escapes his throat accompanied by a jolt to his body.

           “Hmmm… you poor poor man, how long have you been starve from a woman’s touch? Shall I relieve you before his eyes?” her hot breath made the thing between his legs twitch.

           He suddenly realized. ‘His’ his confused face signaled the she devil who smirked.

           “agh! Wha..” she nipped and kissed his neck like a viper. He remained immobile as she continued her gestures but he had tightened the hold around the yamato. Her lips started the left and slowly inched to the right, licking his Adam’s apple making his neck flick up. His breath rags and heaves. His body trembled despite its inability to move. The urge to grab her and pin her to the ground slowly poisoned his mind. Ideas of ravaging her grew further from then on.

           His left eye slowly slipped open, to peak at the she devil but he was met with a gruesome view. Both of his eyes widened and his jaw drops.

           By the wall close to the ceiling, impaled against it is a head. Mundus’s head to be exact.

           His face covered in his blood, eyes and lips still twitching showing signs of life. His eyes stared at Vergil with a shocking emotion. Desperation. ‘Help me’ he called through them.

           “Do you like my first trophy my knight? He is just the first one. We could get more if you want.” Her devils echoed through his ear like a sin. He felt her hand takes the one stuck between him and her body, placing it in her left inner thigh, right below her woman hood as he felt a slick liquid on skin of his palm. His hand tightens around thigh a moan escapes her lips. His head was shove to turn and face her panting face. A lusted smile etched on her face, her lips inches away from his own. Vergil heaved his chest, the level of intimacy she surrounds him had him in a haze, completely forgetting the twitching head of Mundus hanging above.

           “Be my king Vergil. We’ll rule like gods in this realm. Submit to me and I’ll submit to you.”

           At that moment, he had a choice as he was finally able to move. With the yamato on his other, he could kill her and achieve his point that he is the strongest, or submit to her wiles and takes her on the cold floor underneath the dying head of his greatest enemy.

           “I am yours, My Queen.”

(THAT GAL IS SOOJIN AND MY CHOSEN CHARACTER DESCRIPTION IN THIS SHOT)

Thank You 4 Reading.

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

Epilogue

***

Meanwhile, in another plane,...

"That,... is the most foolish idea I have ever heard." The one in blue flat out told his twin without even considering his feelings, or his opinions regarding the matter.

"Face it, Verge, we're getting a bit older here." The one in red answered as he reviewed the recruitment poster he made one more time. "And these Demons come more frequently than ever before after we got back from the hell hole. We need all the help we could get."

And what Dante was saying was all true. Yes, they successfully severed the roots of the Qliphoth from the Underworld and managed to get out of there after beating so many Demons that came after them horde after annoying horde.

And Vergil being the new King of the Underworld with the demonic fruit he's eaten when he was still Urizen? Oh, no, it didn't help with their case, at all. If anything, the Demons were even more ferocious than ever before. Like, who was this new King? This half - blood who didn't deserve to take over from the great Mundus, himself?

And then, there was that strange dream.

Ever since going back from that awful place nearly a year ago, Vergil has been having some strange dreams he couldn't quite explain. And in these dreams, there's this one woman who was always in it. No matter what he did in those nightly episodes, whether he's reading, watching the sunset, or playing the violin, she's always there, watching him.

But, why?

Vergil clicked his tongue as he massaged his temples. "It is you who is getting old, Dante."

"Whatever." His twin answered, getting up from his seat behind his messy desk and making his way towards the door of his hot and dark shop. "I'm posting this, anyway."

The older brother shook his head, unable to stop his sibling from doing what he wanted. And when Dante was done putting the sign outside, he gave him a glare that could very well stop any normal person dead in their tracks.

"This,... will not work." Vergil warned him for the very last time.

"Says the man who can't even use a cellphone!" Dante mocked as he collapsed on his chair and put his feet up on the table. He fished out the old Bokia model from his pocket and took a good long look at it, squinting his eyes like the "old man" that he was to read what's in it. "Opera mini? What's that?"

Vergil sighed as he shook his head once more.

Not even an hour has passed and someone was already knocking on the door of the shop. Dante excitedly got up and went to the door to answer, and when he finally opened it, Vergil heard her voice,...

"It says you're recruiting for new hunters?" She said.

That voice, Vergil thought. Why did she sound,... so familiar?

"Yes, we are! And you have come to the right place." Dante answered. "Come on in, don't be shy!"

It took Vergil a few seconds to realize that he was staring at her from the moment she entered the shop right up to the moment she greeted him.

But, why? Why did she look so familiar? It's as if,...

... he has seen her somewhere before but, where?

"Hey, Vergil, (Y/N) is saying hi!" Dante’s irritating voice brought him out of his own reverie. The younger sibling shook his head, his smile not leaving his face. "Please, forgive my brother. He's not really that friendly but, you'll see! Only took me about forty years worth of stabbing and a year of gardening and I finally got him to live here with me."

The girl named (Y/N) giggled at Dante's quips. "Gardening? Oh! Do you mean that,... strange demonic tree from last year?"

"Yeah, that! We're the ones who took it down." Dante said as he went back to his usual place behind his desk. "So, tell me: what weapon do you use in Demon hunting?"

"Guns, mostly sniper riffles but, when,..."

This girl, Vergil thought as he finally focused his full attention at her. I have definitely seen her somewhere before. And if I'm not mistaken, she was,...

"That is very interesting." Dante answered with a nod of approval. He, then, held out his hand. "No use in making any of this more complicated. You're hired!"

"Oh! That's it?" The girl answered as she hesitantly took Dante's hand. "I mean, no tests, no proof of strength, not anything?"

"You two sure talk a lot."

Dante and the girl turned their head towards Vergil, confused as to his sudden interruption.

"Oh, get used to this, brother! It's nice to have some company around for a change."

“Says the irresponsible man who doesn’t want anyone to interfere with his,… gigs.” Vergil answered in a way that made the girl giggle.

"And your name is Vergil?" The girl asked him with a sincere and gentle smile as she held her hand out to him for a handshake. "My name is (Y/N). I'm looking forward to finally working with you!"

This girl,... is too much,...

Dante shook his head and winced in embarrassment upon seeing his stoic older brother refuse a handshake from a very beautiful girl.

Feeling awkward and rejected, (Y/N) withdrew her hand and tucked it neatly at her side. She, then, turned towards Dante and focused her attention at him, instead. "When do I start?"

"Eh, will tomorrow do?"

"Oh! Of course, yes."

"But, you just arrived from Paris. Will you be okay?"

"I will be fine." The girl answered confidently as she gave him a smile that reminded Vergil of something else.

His hand left his forehead, he stood up straight, and his eyes focused once more on her. If he would be spending the next days of his life in this hot and smelly shop with her, he might as well confirm whether his suspicions regarding her were correct, that she was - 

"By the way, do you have a messanger?" Dante asked her out of the blue all of a sudden as he shamelessly took out the old Bokia from his pocket.

"I do." The girl answered as she took out hers, a brand new and chic (F/C) colored Somesang model.

"What's your user name? I will add you to a group I just made.”

"Sexy (Y/N)."

Vergil almost slid from his chair from what he heard from her. Almost.

Ah, the girl has a lot of cheek! We'll see about that,...

"Ah, how do you spell that?" Dante asked her as he started typing on the old model with two thumbs. 

"All caps S, S, S, small letters e, x, y, no space, (Y/N). First letter of the name is capital."

"Oh! You mean, SSSexy(Y/N)?"

"Yeah! That."

Dante smiled as he pressed a button on his Bokia, a move that would, otherwise, annihilate other models.

"Welcome to the group!"

Welcome aboard, indeed, Vergil thought as he planned on how to test her worth as a Demon hunter.

***

THE END.

***

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @beyond-the-mirror , @clevermentalitybeliever , @yepps , @gothghoulfrend , @lessy86 , @ceruleanworld , @shadowrosess , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 22

Author’s Notes: I think I’m gonna have to get a new laptop, cause damn this one gave me way too many issues making this chapter

Chapter 22

V stirred as soon as Dante’s name was mentioned, opening his tired orbs and sitting up in your lap.

He still looked awful, dark circles under his eyes and body stiff, wobbly as he pulled himself to his feet. You helped him as best you could with your tendrils, giving him one last pulse of energy as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

His smile was so exhausted, but his eyes were soft for you.

Until...he turned, heading out of the van just as the devil hunter of the hour came sauntering back up. That driven look was back again, god damn it. Wherever Dante was concerned V seemed to have tunnel vision, which made absolutely no sense considering he didn’t seem to like or trust him. Why was V so convinced Dante could fix things? There was so much you were missing, but you had no clue how to ask for it. Dante’s words earlier kept coming back to your mind—before he stabbed himself with the sword.

A demonic power was awakened in my once, when Vergil lovingly jammed this through my chest.

Who was Vergil? And why was that name still bugging you? What you had seen at the mansion left a foul taste in your mouth, a sense of foreboding. You had long grown used to listening to what your body had to say. But this...wasn't Foresight. Something deep and dark, in your subconscious and refusing to shut up.

Maybe it was just your brain trying to connect any dots that it could find, but this person definitely felt relevant. Why would Dante mention them, standing in the rain in that place you knew was relevant to V? Your head was spinning, scrambling to pick up the pieces laid out for you. It had never occurred to you, but there was no way V was his real name, was it? Shortened, a nickname, his chosen name. V was...pretty close to Vergil. Could he really be that person, who supposedly stabbed Dante with that sword?

But...why hide it? What the hell was going on?

You didn’t get the chance to dwell on it long, following V as he practically lurched out of the van. Sure enough, Dante was approaching, his gait as confident as ever. He didn’t have a scratch on him, but his hair and shirt were soaked with blood, drying fast. Everyone seemed to have gathered out there, waiting for him to speak when no one really seemed to know what to do.

All you could seem to do was quiet your racing thoughts, helping V sit down on a piece of debris and plopping down next to him. Nico seemed awed by Dante’s presence, staring at him like a little kid looking at their favorite celebrity for the first time. You had no earthly idea what that was about, but you figured you would get your answer eventually.

“Well,” Commented Lady, walking up to Dante with a smile, “Look like no one’s worse for wear.”

You threw her a raised brow as she swept her gaze over the poet. Your expression stated your disbelief without you even opening your mouth. By no worse for wear, you hoped to god she didn’t mean V. Who was still crumbling and weak.

The short haired woman gave you an V an apologetic smile, patting your head as she slid by.

“Well...almost no one.” Lady mumbled, brushing past Dante and Trish as they walked up to you and the poet.  

Dante looked a bit annoyed behind that usual smile, tired if anything. You were surprised, the demon hunter didn’t seem the type to be easily worn out by anything. Though it seemed he had gone toe to toe with Urizen, only this time he walked away unscathed. That fancy demon form must have helped if that was the case. It made you a bit annoyed that Dante walked in and took care of everything on his own, not seeming to need Nero at all. The poor kid was watching, leaning against the van and rolling one shoulder as he sized up Dante.

In retrospect...if Dante looked annoyed, then maybe things didn’t work out with Urizen after all?

Dante’s words all but confirmed it, his tone accusatory as he addressed V, “Hey, where did that garbage God go? What is Urizen after?”

Urizen was no longer at the top of the tree? You felt everyone turn their eyes to your poor, crumbling lover. His head was down, hair shielding his face as he griped the handle of his cane tightly. On his left, you could see his tired expression, the faintest hint of exasperation in his eyes whenever Dante spoke. You couldn’t blame him—Dante seemed oblivious to his condition, either that or he didn’t really care. But...that didn’t feel right either.

“He’s at the top,” V replied, tone low and as smooth as he could manage, “Of the Qliphoth.”

Trish stepped closer, her tone a lot firmer and clearer as she took up the reigns of explaining instead of V. You were grateful for that.

“It’s the other way around, Dante,” She replied, her eyes steady and serious as Dante turned his attention on her instead, “This is the lowest level of the Qliphoth’s upper echelon. Human blood is the source of demons’ power—the fruit born through the Qliphoth is even more dense than the blood that created it. Its power is unparalleled.”

She crossed her arms, eyes shifting between V’s uncomfortable form and Dante’s standing figure, “Even the almighty Mundus used it to become king of the Underworld. V told me everything.”

Dante smirked lightly, wearing an expression that spoke of boredom and lack of caring. Like the explanation was of little consequence. Meanwhile you were blinking in surprise, hearing only once of the fruit but not knowing of how much weight it held—such a thing didn’t exist in the Void. You knew not of who Mundus was, but judging by her story he was of great significance. Quite a few of the things mentioned by her were never explained to you by V, which was admittedly a bit hurtful. Why would he go out of his way to tell these things to Trish, to tell her everything, when there was so much you didn’t know yourself?  

You looked at V in worry, but he wasn’t staring at you. Hell, you doubted he was staring at anything at all. His gaze held a faraway look, only increasing your concern.

“Yeah, well, that’s a lovely story and all, but...as long as we know where to find him.” Dante shrugged it off, strolling forward with intent to bounce again, no doubt.  

You saw V shake his head lightly in exasperation, letting out a sigh so quiet and exhausted. You brushed off your hurt, taking one of his hands and giving it a light squeeze of support. You didn’t know everything, but you knew Dante leaving again was a terrible idea. From what you could gather, the tree was growing in reverse—the top was where the roots were, gathering nourishment and blood and channeling it below, where the “top” of the tree would bear a fruit. Something holding the blood essence of so many innocent humans, granting the one who devoured it immeasurable power. That was all Urizen was after it would seem...power.  

But...why? He already seemed so strong, so unbelievably stacked he took on several of the world’s strongest demon hunters and won. Why was he determined to get this all-powerful fruit, if he was already considered a God?

You were about to open your mouth and tell Dante to stop and wait, wanting more explanations from him. From anyone, really. But Nico practically bounced into his path, looking as if she was waiting for the exact moment his attention wasn’t occupied.

“Whoa! You...are the infamous Dante...!” She exclaimed, voice sounding both nervous and excited as he met her gaze. Like a child meeting their lifelong hero. Nico cleared her throat, looking away a bit awkwardly and shuffling her feet, “Um...I’m Nicoletta Goldstein. Sound familiar?”

She laughed shakily, voice stammering and unsteady. Christ, you had never seen Nico anything but boisterous and confident, this was such a shocking change to you. She stuck a hand out, shaking Dante’s firmly and enthusiastically. You wished you could see Dante’s face, to see his reaction at the very least considering he hadn’t uttered a peep. You didn’t know what to make out of Nico’s excitement either, to be honest. But...it was cute in a way, seeing her so happy.

“My grandmother is Nell Goldstein,” Nico continued in her explanation, pulling her hand away and nervously pointing to the weapons strapped to Dante’s belt, “The Gunsmith that made all your fancy weapons that you got...strapped...back there.”

She seemed like she wanted to see said weapons, tone both awkward and hopeful as she peeked at Dante’s face.

He pulled them out, quietly humoring her as he griped two pistols in his hands. One black, one white—you could make out the barest glimpse of a women's’ portraits on the hilts before they were out of sight.

“Yeah, there she is!” Nico exclaimed, obviously pleased as she pointed at the pistol hilt. So it was her grandmother in the picture? You looked at V, like he would somehow have the answers. But he had closed his eyes, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the handle of his cane.

Fuck, he looked so tired. You were going to suggest he lie down a bit more, but he shuffled a bit closer to you. Your poet leaned to the side, resting his head on your shoulder and letting out a quiet grunt. Wow, cue several arrows piercing your already aching heart—V was slaying you when he did stuff like that.

You smiled lightly, leaning your head against his and ignoring the curious stares from Lady, Trish, and Nero. You were surprised V was displaying affection so publicly as well, but in that moment, he didn’t seem to care. Griffon and Shadow had long grown used to the two of you touching, the bird sitting behind you both and preening his feathers. Shadow opted for plopping on your feet, eyeing the excited mechanic and the demon hunter talking to her.

Meanwhile, Dante let out a musing sound, looking down at the guns then back at Nico a few times. Examining her expectant, waiting face.

“You don’t much look like her...��� He replied, tone a bit skeptical based on where his thoughts ended. You wanted to sigh—that was not the kindest answer to give to the clearly excited mechanic, but whatever.

Nico grunted, making a bit of a face while Dante returned his weapons to where they had been before.

“Yeah, I got my looks from my Daddy,” She replied, tone a bit sullen at the mention of her father, “That’s about all I got from him.”

Christ, did everyone here have family issues? You wanted to hug Nico so badly, to give her the love her father had clearly skimped out on. Hell, you were seconds away from whisking everyone in the room away somewhere safe, somewhere where they could be loved and not have to worry about terrible family, or lack of family for that matter. It occurred to you in that moment that you knew very little about Dante and his life outside of demon hunting. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he was as lonely and screwed up as the rest of you.

“B...but based on his research, I-I-I manages to cobble this—” Nico stammered, pulling something out from behind her back.

It... looked like a cowboy hat? You blinked, raising a brow and feeling a weird sensation as you examined it. White, with a black cord sewn with demonic spikes wrapped around the top. Did...it have eyes? Your Void ability didn’t know what to make of it, that was for sure.

“Um...it...it...” Nico mumbled, trying to gather her thoughts before she landed on, “Consider it a gift...! In honor of us finally meeting...!" She cleared her throat a bit as Dante took the hat, her tone a bit nervous as she added, “Meeting.”

Poor Nico, she looked so nervous. You knew without a doubt whatever that hat was, it had to be something incredible. She wouldn’t seem so anxious for Dante’s reaction otherwise. You hoped to god his reaction was good, or else you’d have to step in and slap him again. Nico was your friend and for her to cobble anything together for someone it had to be a big deal, a work of art. The daggers you gave her were still your prized possession, working wonders in battle.

Dante examined the hat for a few seconds, quiet and musing it before he flipped it onto his head. Whatever you were expecting his reaction to be, you weren't even close.

You blinked, seeing what looked to be a red scarf materialize from the hat now that it was worn, wrapped around Dante’s neck. The demon hunter began to dance in the next instant, making you feel like you were witnessing a fucking auditory hallucination. Were those lights and music? The how and why didn’t seem to matter given everything you had seen from the man before. Provided how Nero taunted, super over-exaggerated and extra, seeing such a display was not surprising when you put your head into it a bit. You recognized those dance moves too—he was definitely mimicking a particular singer with moves like that.

He was a good enough dancer, at least. Sliding his way across the Qliphoth floor like it was nothing. It didn’t make the scene any less bizarre, your expression fluctuating somewhere between shock, awe, and exhaustion watching him. You would admit, seeing such a goofy display in the middle of some of the more stressful moments of your life was a bit...relaxing. Albeit cringy, like watching your weird uncle dance at a Christmas party after everyone begged him not to. He was a strange man, that was for certain. Rocking his hips and making over the top noises on top of it all. You fought the urge to put a hand to your head, like you were somehow imagining the whole scene in your state of worry and anxiety.

But nope. It was still happening.

Trish and Lady seemed absolutely unfazed by his display, both stone-faced and bored as they waited for him to finish. This seemed to be in the norm for them, those who had known Dante a long time. That was both comforting and baffling.

Again, you couldn’t get a read on the demon hunter at all, no matter how much you tried.

As for V...he showed only slight reaction to the outlandish display, his head on your shoulder and hand entwined with yours. You heard him inhale slowly, very slowly, before releasing a very quiet sound. One of exasperation, pain, akin to a groan but closer to a sigh. Your eyes darted to his expression, seeing something half way between exhaustion and... acceptance. He didn’t look shocked by Dante's actions either, more so mortified than anything else. And very tired.

You fully agreed with the sentiment.

Dante finished his display with a flourish, like it was a big performance and the Qliphoth was his stage. Nico was the only one who seemed jazzed, cheering and clapping like it was the best thing she had seen. Well, she most certainly got the validation she sought, in the form of Dante at his most dorkish. You could be happy for her on that end of the spectrum at least. At the other...well. You wished she wouldn’t encourage such a display again; it was just far too much to handle at that moment.

“I’ll take that.” Dante said to her with a smirk, taking off the hat and the scarf disappearing like it had never been there. He tucked it into his coat, but you had no clue where the fuck it went after that. Did he strap it to his belt?

He turned, starting to walk away again before he was stopped--by Nero this time. The boy walked past you, coat on once more and looking a little less worse for wear as he approached the older demon hunter.

“Dante,” He said, tone firm and brow furrowed, making the man in question half turn his head in response, “I’m gonna go too.”

Judging by that look on Dante’s face, this wasn’t going to go well. You exchanged a look with V, you giving him a meaningful stare before you pulled away and rose to your feet. Nero had that look again, his “I’ve got something to prove and I’m mad about it” stare. Dante was just as not, if more stubborn, and you knew neither would compromise.

Further confirmed when Dante replied, "Why don't you sit this one out?"

“Oh, and let you call me ‘dead weight’ again?” Nero glared, annoyance practically dripping from his tone, “No thanks.”

Ahhh, it was finally confirmed. As you suspected, the older man was in fact the one who called Nero that. No wonder he was so bent out of shape about it.

“I’ve got all the power I need,” Nero insisted, his words insistent like he was trying to convince the devil hunter as he lifted his bright, shiny new metal arm. You could see it in his eyes, that need to prove himself. A need for acceptance, and it made you ache on his behalf, “Right here...!”

Dante let out a light sigh, face taking on a more serious feeling as he met Nero’s sharp gaze, “You don’t understand. It’s not what I mean—”

He paused, mouth open almost like he was going to explain, but he firmly shut it again. You saw hesitation flicker through his expression, almost missed. But your eyes were ever searching. He was definitely hiding something too, like he was trying to protect Nero. You couldn’t imagine what, but he seemed determined not to let Nero anywhere near Urizen. Not to fight him, not for anything. Was it because the demon had ripped off his arm? But that didn’t make sense.

Nero scowled in annoyance at Dante’s tone, shoulders tensing as indignation took its place in his features. He looked like he was squaring up to argue more, but the sound of V’s familiar, smooth voice behind you cut him off.

“Let him go, Dante,” He said firmly, making you and the two men turn to look at him. He pulled himself to his feet with the help of his cane, turning to level his jade eyes on the arguing demon hunters, “Time is a luxury that we can no longer afford.”

It was a reminder—he was running out of time. They all were. It was a race now, to get down the tree before the fruit ripened, allowing Urizen to devour it.  

“We must chase after him, post-haste.” V continued, walking slowly toward them with you shadowing his steps. Ready to help him if needed, to wrap your tendrils around his crumbling body.

Dante looked a tad displeased, regarding the frail man with an expression close to exasperation as he sighed, “What, does that mean you’re going too?” The idea seemed less than stellar to him, which you could understand. Hell, if there was any way to fix this that didn’t involve Urizen and the tree you’d be dragging V out of it already. His mission be damned. Yours too.

V was slightly hunched over, staring at Dante from under a curtain of his ebony hair. He was quite the sight, lips and face lined with cracks and dark circles under his eyes. But that driven look was there, further punctuated by his words.

“I have a duty to see this through.” He said, tone implying he would not be swayed in the slightest. You stepped up beside him, meeting Dante’s gaze with a firm one of your own. You didn’t have to add that where V went you followed, his needs were your own.

Dante made a face, one that hinted at aggravation before it slipped into one more akin to his personality. He made a “Huh” expression, shrugging his shoulders a bit like he was brushing the whole matter off. Of little consequence, it would seem. There was a bit of respect there too, like V’s words had struck a cord with Dante, one he could appreciate. To be honest, you were grasping at straws, trying to keep up with Dante’s strange way of approaching things. It wasn’t going well.

“Well, that’s all you had to say, Mr. Poetry,” He replied, turning again and gesturing with a flick of his fingers at the men next to you, “I’m gonna go my way, and you guys can go yours. Let’s just say that’s the best for the cause.”

He gave a little finger salute, ready to jump down into the crevasse below.

Are you fucking serious? Annoyance and exasperation burst inside you, like a dam cracking and waiting to fall apart.

You practically bristled at his words, that stupid mindset he had, finally speaking up in an annoyed tone, “Are you kidding me? Splitting up again?”

You were getting tired of it. Of not knowing anything, of people hiding things, of all the bullshit. You were irritable now, dealing with the prospect of Dante going off on his own again.

All the men paused, staring at you with surprise as you continued, eyes staring hard at Dante’s face, “This isn’t a race or a game. And this stubborn, macho bullshit is going to get someone killed—if you all don’t pull your heads out of your asses and learn to work together nothing will be done.”

Dante smiled, much to your shock. It didn’t make you feel better, and it certainly wasn’t welcome when you were so annoyed at him.

“Your Priestess has some fire in her there, V,” Dante observed, tone low and bemused, “Some of us might get burned.”

You scowled, especially not liking his constant use of the term “priestess” for you. Like you were some quiet, temple worshiping maiden for a half-baked god. You were formulating a comeback, but V didn’t seem pleased by his words either.

“There is truth in her fire,” He replied, narrowing his eyes on the devil hunter and his tone a low purr, “I am not her keeper. She is free to speak how she chooses, especially when she’s made a fair point.”

Dante sighed at that, scratching the back of his head, “So you agree with her?” He leveled his gaze on you, smile slipping away as he addressed you fully now, “There are things at play here you don’t get, kid. You’re just gonna have to trust me—focus on doing what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”

Trish, Lady, and Nico hovered nearby, seeming unsure of what to say. You knew they trusted Dante’s judgement, but...You couldn't. Not yet.

You crossed your arms, frowning as you replied in a skeptical tone, “You make me cry then expect me to trust you?”

Well, that certainly got the girl’s attention.  

They both flanked you in an instant, Lady cradling your head to her chest and forcing V to step away a bit in surprise. Nico on your right, taking up the task on hugging you from the other side. You blinked, unsure of what the hell was going on until Lady spoke.

“Are you for real, Dante?” Lady narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly threatening as she stared down the now surprised devil hunter, “You made her cry?!”

Uh-oh. They had gone into protective mode.

“Uh...” Dante mumbled, voice more hesitant than you had ever heard it. Honestly, he couldn’t lie.  

“Isn’t she going through enough?” Nico piped up in her southern drawl, brow furrowed in disappointment and a hint of hard, flat disgust. You were touched—Nico's love for you trumped her idolization of Dante, which was very sweet. Validating.

Dante held up his hands, jaw going slack in awe now he faced the wrath of two protective women. So that’s where Dante’s area of expertise ended? He looked like a deer caught in some headlights, unable to formulate any sort of reply to defend himself as Lady continued to chastise him. V and Nero took a couple careful steps back, not wanting to put themselves between the girls and the other male at the moment. Nero looked a bit smug, all things considered. Like seeing Dante get yelled at please him. V, too, seemed amused by it all, even through his pain and suffering.  

Trish leaned against the van, letting out a low chuckle when Dante tossed her a pleading stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She huffed, examining her nails as she turned away, “You’re on your own there. Shouldn’t walk around making girls cry, Dante.”  

You almost laughed, almost.

“You’re lucky there’s a demon to kill,” Lady pointed a finger in Dante’s face, making him take a step back and blink, “Otherwise I’d kick your ass. Did he apologize, Y/N?”

Her way of speaking implied that, based on your answer, she might wring an apology out of Dante physically.

But you didn’t want to waste any more time, replying in a voice muffled by her chest, "He did. I think.” He did in his own way, but it still didn’t make the fact that he picked apart your vulnerabilities to gauge your intentions any less okay.

“Can we please get back to the task at hand?” Dante sighed heavily, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as he turned away, quickly hopping down into the pit below. Back to business, it would seem. If he was going, you and the others needed to head out too. Sadly. You wished there was a way to bring Lady, Trish, and Nico down with you, but...you imagined Nico would find her way down somehow.  

Lady let out a sound of annoyance, releasing you with a loud, exaggerated kiss to the forehead.

“Next time he’s a jackass, you let me know,” She said firmly, holding your head in her hands, “He has a habit of speaking without using his dumb man brain.”

Nico let out a snort, eyeing Nero with an expression of mirth as she added, “Boy, ain’t that the trend around here?”

Nero rolled his eyes, shaking his head and leaping down into the pit himself before an argument could start. Nico cupped her hands over her mouth, yelling down after him, “Don’t do anythin’ stupid, psycho...! You’d better come back in one piece...!”

Was that a groan, fading fast as Nero fell down to the area below? A laugh threatened to bubble up at the absurdity of it all. It was very obvious that was Nico’s way of saying she cared, telling Nero to come back safely. You smiled at the girls, pulling them all in for a quick, last hug before setting out. You would carry this feeling, this warmth, the support—you would hold it close to you as you traveled to where the fruit would emerge, like a lifeline through the stress. You could feel V watching you, but you didn’t dare look at his expression, afraid to see that guilt again.

“Thanks guys,” You murmured, squeezing them a bit before pulling back, “Wish me luck. I know we will see you at some point along the way.”

Nico nodded, patting you on the back as she replied, “Sure will. I gotta show you the fancy shit I’ve been cookin’ up with your crystal at some point, right?”  

You smiled and nodded, taking a step back and threading your fingers with V’s.

Lady looked between you both, worried as she said sternly, “Be safe, you too. Call if you can find a phone.”

“Same to you.” You replied, smiling softly as you looked between them. You had grown to care about both of the women so much, they were kinder to you than you could ever hope and full of so much loving energy. There was a pang in your heart, hoping to god once the mission was done that you’d be able to see more of them.

You gaze locked with Trish for a moment, the woman staring at you with something akin to regret, maybe even guilt. Or...maybe it was foreboding? There was a knowing glint in her eyes, arms still crossed and blond hair tucked over one shoulder. She gave you a hard, meaningful stare in return, one of warning, before she turned and headed into the van. She never spoke, but that look said a lot—it told you to stay on your toes, stay wary. That whatever V was hiding was more than he would let on, bigger than he let on. Something Trish wanted to tell you, but couldn’t.

You needed to be prepared for whatever happens.

You squeezed V’s hand, turning your gaze away to look at him for a brief moment. He still looked tired, but filled with that determination from the first moment you met him. It was both his blessing and his curse, that desire to press forward and fix what he decided were his mistakes. Frustrating, but respectable.

You didn’t want to fear what was to come, not yet, but you would be ready. So, you summoned your tendrils and jumped, you and the poet plunging into the glowing red abyss below. You hear Lady and Nico call their goodbyes down to you, echoing and fading as you fell. You knew splitting up was a bad idea, not on your top ten list of things that ever worked out in any capacity, but...well, you would do your best.

You made sure to cast Feather Fall on you and the poet to make for a safe, easy landing at the very least.

V was a bit quiet when the ground finally rose up to meet you, your tendrils stabilizing his form and your own. Griffon swooped by, circling around and landing on your shoulders as always while Shadow kept close to V. You felt anxious and full of foreboding, watching the poet roll his shoulders and start walking forward with the help of his cane. You didn't want to hesitate, not sure of what to say despite how much the need to talk was clawing at your throat. There was so much to ask. Too much. About Dante, about V, about Urizen...everything. But now wasn’t the time, not when things were so close to being fixed.

Vergil’s name and mysterious tie to everything that was going on would not leave you. But...your mouth refused to open, like it was trapped shut.

Instead you walked in time with V, Foresight creeping up to alert you of enemies ahead. Because of course, there would have to be fighting now that everyone had gone their own way. The thought made you glum, sullen. Even Nero, who you were hoping would come your way seemed determined to move along by himself. Maybe it was something Dante said, convincing him that this was something he needed to do alone? Either way, you weren’t pleased.

There was something else too, a pain in your neck that wouldn’t go away. Right on the nape, a stubborn sensation of your muscles being pressed on. It made you frown, constantly rubbing that spot but it soothed nothing. It felt akin to someone holding their hand on the back of your neck, squeezing to the point of just slight pain. You rarely pulled a muscle, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do so. It was of little consequence, but it was a nagging sensation that left you just a tad bit sullener. It got to the point that you kept jostling Griffon doing it, so he settled to the other side of your shoulder to give you space. The off-setting weight only hindered you a little bit.

“Expect fighting ahead,” You told V, giving his arm a light squeeze and trying to keep your expression calm. Steady. You needed to be steady, “Are you up for it? I can go ahead and clear the path for us.”

You were more than willing to take on some lower level demons by yourself.

V turned his gaze to you, jade orbs flickering with several emotions as he seemed to look over your expression. You resisted the urge to look away, feeling a tad bit guilty about being so unhappy. It certainly wasn’t fair to V. especially when he was dying.

“No,” He told you, slipping his fingers into your hair lightly to stroke it back. You closed your eyes at the contact, relief pouring through you at even a little affection, “You must be close to exerting after all you have done today.”

You opened your mouth to disagree when it clicked with your brain. He was wrong, and that in itself...was wrong.  

You felt completely fine.

You were nowhere close to exerting, power still swirling comfortably and muscles feeling fairly normal. Too normal, incorrect for how much power you had mustered for recent events. In between healing V, summoning food, teleporting them all...you should have been running on empty, but the sensation was nowhere to be found. You blinked, mouth half open as you stared at V's confused gaze. You could only imagine what was going through his mind at your silence, your shifting expressions. You echoed that confusion, and flung it right back at him. Hell, you had no earthly idea why you weren't a heaping puddle of pain on the floor at that moment, there was no way you had extended your reach that far yet.

“I...” You whispered, eyes staring forward as your scrambled brain tried to do some quick math, “I’m...not? Why am I not...?”

V lifted his cane, slipping it under your chin to tilt your head toward him again. He looked concern, eyes meeting yours seriously as he cupped your cheek.

“Sparrow?" He questioned, the concern mimicked by Griffon as the bird stuck his face by yours.

“You okay there, toots?” He said, tone a bit worried and feathers shaking out when your silence persisted a few more moments, “You tryin’ to convince us that you’re not worn out after all that flashy shit? I don’t buy it.”

“No,” You whispered in reply, lifting your hands to stare at them and tone incredibly lost, “By all accounts, you’re right. I should be well past my limit. But...I’m not. I’m not anywhere close, and that makes no sense.”

Nothing makes sense.

Griffon and V exchanged a look, V taking one of the hands you were gazing at in his own and squeezing gently. It grounded you in reality a bit, brain drifting in and out of focus as you tried to piece things together. Senses on alert, straining for whatever you thought could be the cause of everything. It occurred to you that there was a faint sound in the air, one you didn’t tune into before being so god damn distracted by everything. A faint humming, almost like a whispering.

Close to what you heard in the Void, but muted like it was under water. It seemed so obviously present now, loud compared to when you weren’t focusing on it.  

That was a sound you knew very well.

You released V’s hands, shock in your expression and heart hammering as you started feeling around on yourself, searching for the source. Griffon squawked in alarm, hovering of your shoulder while you frantically searched until your fingers caught onto something hanging off the back of your belt. You froze, breath caught in your throat as your fingers threaded around the familiar shape, pulling it forward so you could stare at it. Even knowing what it was, still seeing it made your mind blank out, fuzzy as you tried to comprehend exactly where it had come from.

It was a Rune.

It fit into your hand, the shape all too familiar and etched with the mark of your Deity. Made of whale bone and metal, an artifact crafted by worshipers from the world closest to the Void, the most in tune with it. They now served his purpose, ingrained with the power he held and used as a tool to grant abilities and strengths to his followers. You had used them before, on rare occasions, but...you yourself were granted with the Void’s power. Those who used runes were generally those who were still human, but granted his abilities via blessing.

You...weren’t the same. You were molded by the Void, inhaling it in your lungs until it shaped you into a being beyond human. Closer to the Deity in that regard, a priestess instead of a follower.

But it was here now, in your hand. Where had it come from? You didn’t pick it up, but it had been looped to your belt by a leather cord. Your eyes were dazed as you looked at it, the weight of it in your hand instilling a confused sense of urgency. Was that the reason why you hadn’t exerted yet? The rune was boosting your abilities, the echoing traces of your Deity granting you an extra blessing.

But...that would mean he had been here. He had attached it to you, given you a gift instead of making you find it at a shrine. The problem was that it didn’t feel like a gift at all, especially not in the way it was presented to you. No conversation, no guidance, just silence and the cold press of the rune’s shape into your palm. Your heart was pounding so fast, fingers beginning to tremble as that sense of foreboding returned, and the guilt. Your Deity...he wouldn’t have given this to you unless he wanted to help, right? This was meant to aid you, but it still felt wrong. You shouldn’t feel this way after being given a gift by your master, but your gut was clenching and the power of the Void swirling ominously.

It didn’t make any sense. Was your Deity upset with you or not?

“What the fuck is that?” Griffon’s loud squawk snapped you out of your racing thoughts, making you flinch and fingers clench around the rune so hard your knuckles were white.

V immediately clasped his hands over yours, hesitantly so as they grazed over the surface of the rune. You blinked, breath catching as you looked up and saw a mixture of confusion and wariness in his gaze.

“Its...” You whispered, eyes flickering down to the object in your hand as you swallowed softly, “It’s a rune...an object cobbled in the name of my Deity that grants bonus abilities to its user.”

V touched his crumbling fingers to it, brow furrowing at whatever he felt. You had long grown used to the ominous sensation runes brought, but V...you could tell he was unsettled.

Someone crafted this rune with the blood of innocents and putrid whale oil.  

Your mouth opened, babbling a bit to try and cope with the worry creeping up your spine as you continued, “I’ve heard stories of children who used to put these under their pillows for good luck, but always had nightmares instead. They’re...fused with Void essence and generally serve those who have either been blessed by my Deity, or those who seek to be blessed by him. Conjuring tools, worshiping crafts, cursed items made by cursed hands to...to....”

“Y/N,” V murmured, capturing your face in his hand to tilt it up. He could sense your growing sense of unease, the lack of control inside of you, “Where did you acquire it?”

Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes closing a bit as you took a few measured breaths.

“I didn’t,” You practically whimpered in reply, fingers squeezing the rune tightly again, “He had to have placed it upon me, at some point. How did I...how did I not notice? He never does things like this, never in this way. It doesn’t make sense.”

When did he give it to you? How long were you walking around with it strapped to your belt?

V didn’t miss the distress in your tone, tucking some hair behind your hair as he murmured in a honeyed tone, “Breathe, dearest. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. We are in the final stretch of our journey...maybe your Deity sought to aid you in some way?”

You wanted it to be that easy, wished for it to be that easy. But you knew better, knew how he functioned. So many missions doing the same thing, the same cycle, only to change it now? It wasn’t in his nature to suddenly lose consistency.

But...you were wasting V’s time here worrying about it, each moment precious and needed to reach the goal you sought. You had to swallow this feeling too, and accept things for what they appeared to be. This item was helping you, extending your powers to something far higher than you were supposed to be at when you needed it so desperately. It was a gift, you told yourself. A blessing. You wouldn’t accept anything less.

You couldn’t afford to keep thinking about it.

“Maybe.” You mumbled in response, but your tone conveyed no hint of conviction. You slipped the rune back onto your belt, trying to ignore the low sound it made as you turned away from V.  

You were just happy they couldn’t hear it.

V still seemed worried about you, reaching out for your hand and grasping it as firmly as he was able. As for Griffon and Shadow...both were following behind, the bird quiet and just as worried as the poet. It was understandable, at the very least.  

You closed your eyes, counting your breaths and leading V and the familiars forward to the next area. With this rune, you were the strongest person in the group at the moment. You had a poet to protect, and a goal to reach. You just wished that the sense of dread would cease, that your heart would slow and everything was guaranteed to work out.  

But more than anything, you wished that aching sensation on the nape of your neck would just fucking go away.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/44378257

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Tagged: @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @efiicitia @raven-huntress

[nopequisition]

A very shitty theory about Vergil in general

Just under the cut, since i’m gonna put something about DMC5 too (there are some big spoilers, yes; if you don’t want to read spoiler, DO NOT READ)!

As i said, this is a VERY shitty, dumb, stupid theory making waters from all holes and it’s wrong at 150%, but i’d like to share it just because it’s damn ridicolous (i hate myself). This is also based on what we know so far from DMC5.

Again, if you don’t want to read any spoiler of DMC5 since i’ll put something based on leaks, DO NOT  PROCEED, thanks.

Also, i’m very sorry for my English, it’s not my first language. T_T

Most of the time, my main question about Vergil was only this: “WHY he needs so much power? Tf does he need to do with that? What’s the goal?”. I guess a lot of people has the same question.

He’s very different from Dante, we all know that, and detests humans due to their weakness. Possibly he hates to be half-human himself. Also, we all know he will kill anyone in his way to reach power (i mean, he summoned a fucking old huge tower in the middle of a city to reach Hell, fuck you people living there!). However, he doesn’t seems to want to destroy humanity; in fact, Temen Ni Gru has been summoned only because he wanted to reach Hell, this was the goal, not to just open a fucking gate to let demons kill humans, he just doesn’t really care of the consequences. Deal with it, humans.

He also claims that Hell is his and his father’s home, they are demons after all. Damn he tried to slain Mundus right after he had to deal with Dante, he was in a very bad shape. His pride won the argument and rushed into the battle (losing). Again, why?

Brainstorming for years led me to think he actually seeks to destroy Hell itself. Sounds dumb, heh? But maybe this was his intention all along. What if he actually hates demon, who also slained her mother? Dante and Vergil must have been kids when this happened, imagine the trauma. He seeks for revenge in a very radical way, they must die, all of them. To destroy all demons for good, he needs a lot of power. A lot lot lot of it. Instead of refusing his devil side, he embrace it and use it against demons - why shouldn’t he do that? He’s the fucking son of Sparda. Destroying Mundus (and maybe he planned to destroy Argosax too?) would have granted him full controll of Hell. And with an immense amount of power he could have just destroyed it for good, sacrificing himself in the process. Let’s not forget that “might controls everything” in his opinion.

Vergil knows that to reach this goal he has to sacrifice everything, even his relationship with Datnte (that he actually respects and loves as his own brother). He prevented Dante to follow him for good reasons; not only because Dante doesn’t belong to Hell. Vergil knows that the human world needs someone like his brother to survive demons. If Vergil failed in his task, Dante would have been the only one to stop Mundus and possibly Vergil too if the worst would have happen.

But what Nero has to do with all of this? Vergil is not looking for love, he probably consider this a weight in his task and an useless sentiment. Nero is nothing but a mean to the end. Being his son, he inherith part of his Power and would have been more than able to use Yamato and his devil side too, even if not as powerful as Dante (while the twins are sons of a demon and a human, Nero is the son of an half-demon and a human; in terms of power, he’s supposed to be weaker). Sounds convenient. Nero will grow and side with Dante, using the Yamato will let him be even more powerful as Dante will grow older. That’s why Vergil choose a completely random woman (some claims it was a prostitute), any will do here. Fortuna wasn’t a random choice either: he realized that in Fortuna the Order of the Sword worshipped Sparda as a god, and the entire city with them. What a timely coincidence! So, he took this poor girl (and perhaps, i rather not really say that, raped her) and let this plan to continue. All of this prior to DMC3, which can explain his look being identical to the one of DMC3.

Let’s return to Nelo Angelo. Mundus won and corrupted him with his power, Vergil became Nelo Angelo, servant of Mundus. This changed him and all of his plans - we may say that his soul began to grow darker and no one’s there to fill it with light, i guess. XD While Dante didn’t destroy Nelo Angelo completely (Mundus states that “he has been defeated”, but not killed), he must have been somewhere to recover; in the meantime, Dante destroyed Mundus, leaving Hell without a leader -Argosax should have been banished at that time-. So he took his place as Urizen (IF Vergil is Urizen; people discovered this might be the case thanks to the voice in the trailer), planning to invade the human world and destroy it. But first, he’ll get back Yamato to open the Hell Gate... and he did in the worst way, cutting Nero’s arm off, and hey this will also weaken his son. Since his plans changed, it’s better to weaken Nero to prevent him to be strong enough to get on his way. If he once wanted to destroy Hell, now he’s the embodiment of it, he’s the King, he will prevail and will destroy the pathetic humans he once wanted to protect from Hell. He was powerful, but not enough; now he has way too much power and will use it against the wrong world.

The worst happened. And someone must stop him and his growing madness. This ultimate task falls on Dante and Nero, along with whoever is going to follow them.

And that’s my useless and wrong theory. Yeah, that’s what 11 years of waiting can do to a person. XD I can’t wait to see this theory go in the trash can when the game will be released.

Do you agree with something? Do you have anything to add or discuss about this? Feel free to ask me or comment this with your opinions, i’d love to hear some and see you all telling me “duh this is so wrong” lol.

March is sooo far away now and we can have some fun discussing our theories.

[phoebus-de-chateaupers-blog]

Hubris ... [Duchebus]

In which Duchess goes to Phoebus after learning he has been arrested...[takes place: January 16th]

@the-duchess-lablanc

[tw -- uh phoebus being phoebus, talk of murder and revenge all that good stuff]

DUCHESS: The past few months had been tumultuous. Really, the past year had been a rocky one. So much had happened that Duchess was not sure that Swynlake was the place for her anymore. It had turned her into a woman that she didn’t recognize and one that she hadn't ever wanted to be. She’d hurt one of her dearest friends, had nearly destroyed a marriage that was just beginning to flourish. But out of everything had come Phoebus and he was a light in the dark. A light at the end of her long, long tunnel of suffering.

Where Thomas had left her reeling and feeling lost, Phoebus had swept her off of her feet. He was absolutely everything that she wanted in a man. And while he had kept his secrets and their relationship had started off rockier than she had wanted, it had been dealt with easily. Maturely. There was no screaming and yelling and crying. No immature displays of masculinity. Instead, he had given Duchess exactly what she wanted. A relationship that she could be proud of.

So much so that she had packed up everything in her home, had even put it on the market again, so that she could move with him to Denmark.

It was a terrifying thing to think about but it was always calmed with the thought that Phoebus had asked her to come with him because he could see their future. Just as brightly as she could it seemed. And regardless, she was ready to go. All her life all she had wanted was to be better than Adelaide. To do something that would make her parents as proud of her as they were of her older sister. She had her fashion empire, she had won a seat on the Board, and now-- Now she was going to start her biggest venture yet and for once all that mattered was the fact she was happy. So incredibly happy.

At least she was until her phone had rang and Phoebus’ voice reached her.

Fury fueled her as she made her way to the jail, ready to tear into anyone and everyone that got in her way.

“Where is he?” Her voice was shrill as she entered the police station, eyes blazing as she glared at every deputy there. It only took a few seconds before she was being ushered to where he was being held. Seeing him behind the bars only slightly dampened the fires of her rage. “What the bloody hell happened, Phoebus? What--- I thought it was supposed to be easy… How long until you are allowed to leave? They cannot just hold you here.”

PHOEBUS: Phoebus was defeated.

He knew this as he was handcuffed, as he was shoved unceremoniously into the back of the cop car.

The demon had gotten away with it. The bitch Mundus girl too.

His only comfort was that it was not his fault. The plan he had slaved over was excellent. If Merida had not surprised him--with her betrayal, with her curse--things would’ve been perfect. He could still see, in his mind’s eye, the flickering of Hades’ flame dying, the decision there in his eyes. He would have given himself up for Belle and after he was dead, there would have been nothing stopping him from finishing the rest.

But in this cursed town, it was the bad guys who won. Or, perhaps there was no such thing. This place was just full of vile blackness--no matter what Phoebus would have done, he could not have cured it from its evil.

These thoughts comforted him as he sat silently. He knew anything he said could be used against him. He was an officer, after all. And a Prince. They did not wag their tongues. Phoebus refused to do so. He sat stoic and silent.

Inside his jail cell, it was the same. Phoebus held his breath. Phoebus waited. When he got his phone call, he was almost surprised--but why would he be? The people here were idiots. Not that he was going to use his phone call for his parents, though he should. No, he needed to sit with the disappointment coursing through him for longer.

(And there was a part of him that feared his family would not fetch him. His disgrace once more, the final nail in his coffin. They could not stand to lose him, could they? Phoebus knew that they rather would than continue to be disgraced and embarrassed.)

In the echoes of the holding cells, Phoebus could hear Clemens’ laughter.

When Duchess arrived, that guilt dug itself deeper into his gut--and he wondered how long he would carry it.

For the record, it was not guilt at what he had done. Oh, no. If you thought that, you were very, very wrong. It was guilt at having been caught. Guilt of not ridding this town of those demons. Guilt at not fulfilling his promises to Duchess.

“It was Merida,” he snarled at once to Duchess, ignoring the way his face twinged from where Hades had punched him. He hoped she would not shy at the blood on his shirt as he came forwards, for it was not his.

“She’s a fucking werewolf. Apparently, a werewolf with a conscience.”

DUCHESS: Seeing Phoebus behind bars was--- She did not like it. It made her blood boil and part of her wanted to demand they let him out. There was no reason for him to be there. No reason for him to be held like some sort of criminal. She had no idea what he had done to warrant such treatment simply because she hadn’t asked but she was sure that all he was doing was getting rid of a threat that the entire town refused to deal with.

It was only after she got over the shock of seeing him behind the bars that she registered the blood that coated his shirt and the cuts and bruises on his face. Hades had done this to him. All of this was Hades’ fault. If this stupid town had just locked him away when they’d found out about those damned hell hounds none of this would have happened. And now Phoebus was the one being locked away? Like he was some dangerous criminal?

“What do you mean Merida is a werewolf? What did she do?” If Merida had begun to work with Hades… She was as good as an enemy. Duchess would do whatever she had to ensure that her future was not destroyed because some little girl had decided to have a conscious. Hades was dangerous. There was ample proof of that. This should not have happened.

Carefully she reached through the bars, wanting to grab hold of Phoebus in an attempt to ground herself against the current of emotions she was feeling. Again she could feel everything she had worked for slipping through her fingers. Her future was supposed to be secured. They had made plans. They were supposed to be starting their life together in Denmark. It couldn’t end like this.

“What are we to do now? Tell me what I must do to get you out of here.”

PHOEBUS: Duchess reached for him and Phoebus almost wanted to pull away. Not because he did not want her to touch him, but because he was ashamed. They should be on the road by now. Their bags packed. They would stay at the castle whilst they chose a house to live in. And then, they would move in. The Tourney would be soon. If all went well, Phoebus’ family would be the new Kings. Which meant that he could take some time off hunting, to help his father begin to get everything in order.

Could be there whilst Duchess (with input from his mother, he was sure) set up their home.

He would propose, after a few months. They would get married. Have children. It was supposed to be a good life.

Hades and Merida had taken that away from him. He blamed Merida more than Hades, honestly. Hades was going to surrender. He’d seen it in his eyes. Hades defeated. He clung to that look, even if it was fruitless.

But the fight was extinguished. He knew he would not have another shot at Hades. The threat would not be eliminated. Even if he was acquitted (unlikely, unless he was tried elsewhere), he would not be able to come back to Swynlake without detection. He could send someone new in, but the baby would be born by then…and whatever curse that was bound to befall Swynlake would have already come to passed.

Now, he needed to think of this new future. To plan what he needed to do, in order to keep Duchess safe. In order to begin his plans anew.

So, he did not shrink from her grasp, though he wanted to. Instead, he reached forward to grasp her hand, lifting it to his lips.

“The Order has failsafes in place, in case of situations such as this. Do not worry, my love.” He went to touch her hand to his cheek, but remembered that he was still covered in Merida’s blood. So, instead, he took a single step closer. “I will get my revenge on that demon and that mutt.”

DUCHESS: She refused to cry. Even if her tears were only because she was so, so… angry. Angry at Hades for getting out of this. At Merida for being the cause of this downfall. Even slightly at Phoebus for allowing himself to get caught, for not being so totally diligent that he figured out that Merida was a werewolf. If he were not behind the bars, Duchess had a hard feeling that she would have slapped him. Which would have promptly been followed by those hot tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes.

But no. Now she to pull herself together. Think of what exactly came next.

His parents would need to be contacted, a lawyer hired. They would need to push to get Phoebus out of Swynlake. There was no way that he’d be able to stay in the town. Any court here he was brought to would be biased. Hades had already won over so many people in the town. No, he needed to be taken elsewhere. That was the only way that they’d be able to have their future.

“I won’t let them get away with this. Either of them. Whatever you need from me, darling,” she promised as he stepped closer to her. Her fingers curled around his, wishing for a moment that she could press herself against him. Or that he could hold her at least one last time before the literal shit storm that was about to fall over them.

PHOEBUS: Duchess’ words made Phoebus’ heart clench two-fold.

First, he was touched that she was so fierce about the whole situation, vowing revenge. Her eyes flashed and his heart stirred. He’d always liked her best dressed in rage. The first time they’d slept together had been after she’d told off that awful woman and he had licked the rage off of her body, tasting it sweet and salty on his tongue. He had always wanted someone by his side who was just as ferociously dedicated to the cause as he was.

However, the idea of Duchess attempting revenge on that devil (perhaps the Devil made flesh and bone), clouded his heart with worry like a thunderstorm. She was not equipped to handle such things. Phoebus had not had a chance, once Merida turned on him. If he had been with someone else, perhaps he could have done it. Duchess on her own? Phoebus knew his darling was strong and fierce, but she was not a Prince.

And he did not want her hurt.

Phoebus stepped closer and slipped his free hand through the bars to touch her cheek. “You must promise me that you will not attempt revenge alone, my love. He is powerful. More powerful than anything I have ever come across. I would hate to see you hurt because of me.”

DUCHESS: She understood why he did not want her going after Hades. It was the same reason she had been wary about him going after the demon. But she was not weak and she was not foolish enough to go after Hades alone. And she would not go after him in the same way that Phoebus had. Even though she was still quite fuzzy on the details of his exact plan, she still knew that it was more than likely termination. Duchess didn’t want him to die, though. She wanted him to suffer like she no doubt would with Phoebus gone and their town no longer safe from Hades and his demons.

Still, she nodded as his hand rested against her cheek. There was no denying that she would miss his touch, would miss his presence all together. It would not be long, though, is what she told herself as she leaned into that soft touch for a long moment before taking his hand in hers.

“You know I would not go after him alone,” she all but whispered, wishing once more that there were not bars between them. She wanted one last embrace, a chance to memorize his particular musk to memory before he was shipped off to some other holding cell away from Swynlake.

Easily she pressed her lips to his knuckles with a soft sigh. “I will not go after him but I will not make things easy for him.” She vowed this to him because Hades did not deserve to go about acting like a victim or garnering sympathy from the town. “When this whole mess is dealt with there will be more information on him. More of his weaknesses will be known. And that disgusting wolf will be of no concern. There will be no one to stop you from doing what need be done.”

PHOEBUS: Phoebus smiled as she kissed his hand. If only he could reach through these bars. If only he could bend them out of the way and go to her. If only there was someone on this police force that he could bribe to open the door. He wouldn’t even run (though, he would like to, if he could bribe them to let him go, he’d take it.) No, really all he wanted was to hold Duchess. To kiss her. To tell her that everything was going to be alright.

He did believe everything would be alright. Truly.

And he believed even more strongly than that in Duchess. She was a powerful, strong, elegant woman. There would be no one else that he would want by his side through this.

His hand lifted to touch her cheek, then her golden-spun hair, soft as silk. He imagined it was what the hair of Aphrodite might feel like. He would claim perhaps even softer, but he was no fool, he knew the myths. (Not that he believed in those gods, he believed in his God that would not let this injustice go unpunished.)

“Your strength gives me strength,” he told her. It was true too.

He stepped closer to the bars, drawing her closer too. He kissed her through them, just once, just softly. The kiss a promise.

“I love you,” he told her. “I promise I will never stop and that we will be happy. You deserve that.”

[daemominus]

TAGGED BY:  @enshrxned

↪ REPOST!! DO NOT REBLOG!!

━━ FULL NAME:  Vergil Bellamy ━━ GENDER & SEXUALITY:  male, (heteroromantic) demisexual ━━ ETHNICITY & SPECIES:  seemingly North American; nephilim ━━ BIRTHPLACE & BIRTHDATE:  Limbo City (state N/A), United States; November 26th (year N/A)

━ GUILTY PLEASURES:  I don’t think anything he likes doing makes him feel guilty. Excessive consumption of sweets, maybe? Like if he’s caught downing a whole pint of Häagen-Dazs-- wait maybe that’s more embarrassing than anything.

━ PHOBIAS:  Fears he has, but phobias? Perhaps mysophobia, but I debate this with myself.

━ WHAT THEY WOULD BE FAMOUS / INFAMOUS FOR:  Forming, heading, and actively taking part in The Order, a known “terrorist” group; being the “masked freak on the ‘net.” Aiding in the demise of a former demon king. Aspiring to rule over humanity, unlike Mundus, though still poised to take his place (though that depends on if word of any of this spreads around).

━ WHAT HAVE THEY / WOULD THEY HAVE GOTTEN ARRESTED FOR:  He has eluded the law thus far, and he’s done so by breaking it. Hacking into state and government databases, manipulating his public and private records, forging "legal” documents, identity theft or manipulation to a degree, falsification of credit or financial records---to name a few. I would also lightly suggest murder, but as I’m aware it was done out of self-defense, and then there’s also indirect mass murder, but that one’s totally unintentional. Haha.................

━ A CHARACTER YOU SHIP THEM WITH:  No canon ones. Only an OC, Bianca, which I’m sure has already become well-known as his lifelong ladylove.

━ CHARACTER MOST LIKELY TO MURDER THEM:  Mundus, if the opportunity were ever there. Though I mean Dante almost did and Vergil pretty much died by Dante’s hand even if it wasn’t instant I mean--

━ FAVORITE BOOK GENRE:  Anything covering the occult/paranormal, though he will prefer nonfiction in regard to these subjects. Handbooks and codices, journals and studies are among those he reads primarily. He’s also keen on reading ancient poetry/prose, or teaching himself to read this. Historical accounts and biographies are quite fun, more than anything, to read. But in any case, he’s always willing to learn something from the material. If it’s educational, he won’t mind reading it: the more knowledge he accumulates, the better.

━ LEAST FAVORITE BOOK CLICHE:  Forced/pointless romance I guess? I don’t think he really cares.

━ TALENTS AND / OR POWERS:  Electronic hacking/infiltration, data manipulation, computer programming, being multilingual, analytical thinking, superhuman senses (and having a sixth sense), swordsmanship and close quarters combat, firearms training. Powers include psychokinesis, memory erasure; his angelic gifts allow him to glide a limited distance, while his demonic gifts allow him to transition instantly from one place to another, though also a limited distance, and to enter a state of enhanced power, Devil Trigger, from which he can generate a doppelganger. He can also conjure projectiles in the shape of swords.

━ WHY SOMEONE MIGHT LOVE THEM:  I think his loyalty and reliability might be the first thing someone would find anchoring. Out of all the things he is, or does, the most comforting part of getting to know him would be finding out that he will defend you, or do something for you which he may have promised previously. He’s true to his word, he won’t fail you. Even if he doesn’t know you all that well, he will hardly find himself betraying or deceiving. He does have a sense of justice to follow, and his own morality will push him to doing right by you---if you deserve it. That alone, I believe, would be more than enough to put him in someone’s favor. Superficial traits aside, he’s fairly lovable depending on you.

━ WHY SOMEONE MIGHT HATE THEM:  AND THE FLIP SIDE IS that he’s just as easy to hate. It might be easier for an outsider to take note of the traits that make him unappealing, even repellent. Perhaps his critical, keen eye might become annoying very fast. His tendency toward suspicion might tire you. I believe it’s his arrogance and his pride that may very well discourage people the most. He will always place himself above humanity, boast of his blood and his prowess. He’s going to distance himself from human nature, even deny that he is much like a human for the sake of perching atop his pedestal. His ego is swelled, thus rather sensitive. You may think he’s pretentious, self-entitled, and self-serving, and you’d be right for the most part. No one really likes a prima donna.

━ HOW THEY CHANGE:  He doesn’t in any way that would lend him grace. The period encompassing his downfall and his own ascension is a short one, but it impacts him in deep ways. Maybe when he was once naive, tolerant, and good-humored, he would have become more cynical, prone to impatience and frustration, and less likely to extend amiability. If he was cautious before, then he’s as good as paranoid now. He is less willing to trust in others, less willing to form bonds. In fact, it’s a heavy challenge to clear these hurdles if you’re the one trying to get close to him. In the past, he may have held a neutral position toward angels; leaving Hell, however, has damaged his view of them almost irreversibly. He hates them now, can’t stand them. And I’m just listing off a handful of changes he’s gone through, from post-game to post-Vergil’s Downfall. I haven’t even touched upon the physical and mental impacts the trial has had over him. From growing more powerful, he’s lost mental stability. In fact, he is continually losing his mind to the corruption he harbors. This, as well as entering Devil Trigger, also takes a toll on his physical health---mainly that of his heart. It’s all a slow progression, however, probably meant to prolong the inevitable so that he may feel it and struggle through. In short: he becomes darker, more demonic, more twisted in his points of view. BUT you can’t really tell at first glance. It takes some digging to realize what’s happened to him.

━ WHY YOU LOVE THEM:  He’s cute and a baby. The fruit of my loins. I really do see him as a good boy even though he’d fucked up along the way. His intentions were good, albeit not entirely selfless, but it’s his sentiment behind his actions that led everything to happen in the first place. Aside from some plot holes and iffy writing and vague shit that hasn’t been fleshed out, I feel like his reactions to everything, though exaggerated or just plain questionable, are realistic and justifiable based on who he is, how he thinks, how he deals with his emotions, etc. He’s not supposed to be a “normal” person (because he ain’t human to begin with lmao), he’s grown up differently, he’s fueled by different instincts, and on top of that he’s got a few personality issues, an inferiority complex to some degree, and all of these things are meant to make him the way he is. And because of this, I feel strongly that he is believable. He has things wrong with him, he’s totally wrong in some ways, fucked up in others, and I love that. It helps reinforce his characterization; like he can build justification upon justification with personality traits alone. There’s always a reason that a part of him is, whether or not it’s flawed. He might be blind to some flaws and accepting of others, and all of this helps build his layers. I find that he’s very complex, has many facets to his being. I’ve always been impressed by that. I, myself, have a hard time on occasion to explain one thing or another about him because there’s so much there to explore and understand, and every point has an added side to it. I’m not blind to the wrongs, but I’ll admit I’m so biased and defensive of him that I’m always going to deny the idea that he’s a villain, your classic antagonist. He shouldn’t have been treated that way, reduced to a foil, which I honestly think is pretty unfair considering how the twins handled one another’s differences? In the first place Vergil is just too careful to say outright that he’s gonna rule humanity?? Like I’m sorry but it’s totally unfair in my eyes that he was set up to be the bad guy and IT HURTS MAN, IT HURTS. And yeah I’m gonna blame Dante for choosing to put up his dukes rather than talk it out with his brother who, by the way, hadn’t suggested in the slightest that they fight out their differences. I mean your own flesh and blood who you’ve just started to rebuild a kinship with? Who really wanted you in his life because damn it he loved his brother and he didn’t want to lose you again?? And you want to fight him so fast??? Sorry that’s wrong, you didn’t even give my boy a chance to save face smh. Bitch all I’m saying is he ain’t a villain at heart because he’s got no evil intent during the main game; post-Downfall he’s pretty fucked up because of that dark shit he embraced and now he feels betrayed beyond belief and I have more to say I will fight everyone--

TAGGING:  whoever’s inspired to fill this out tbh

[fabdante]

Got this idea from thinking about what a reboot version of Temen-ni-gru could be like. I like the idea of it maybe being a combo between rescuing Sparda from where ever Mundus banished him and the plot of DMC3, where the purpose of Temen-ni-gru is basically to seal not only a gate to the Underworld, but also the Force Edge/Sparda. Gonna focus on the latter, just because that's easier to know what to do with than reboot Sparda. Maybe you need Sparda, alive or at least out of where ever Mundus banished him to, to get the Force Edge/Devil Sword Sparda out of him?

I don't think you'd need Arkham for the reboot's version of DMC3/Temen-ni-gru, just because I think reboot Vergil could fill the role well enough himself. Maybe with some demonic armor, since he's King of Hell now?

(Maybe Kat could be involved too, helping Dante solve puzzles and navigate the tower? Assuming her magical abilities have jumped from "astral projection and seeing into Limbo" to "being able to cast Fireball", I mean. Unless you want to give her a rocket launcher. I'm more partial to giving her a Kablooey, but whichever works best for her.)

Mainly I wanna focus on character stuff- in this case, for Dante. Doppleganger the Deathvoid didn't do much as a test of character for DMC3 Dante, since preboot Dante was already kinda far enough along in his character development that he didn't need another test, but I feel like with what we see of dopplegangers in Vergil's Downfall (or whatever Hollow Vergil really was), you could have some fun with it. Especially if Vergil is here, especially if he's trying to manipulate Dante into helping him undo the seal on Temen-ni-gru and get the Force Edge/the Sparda.

The twins' amulets in the preboot don't have any kind of "security measure" (I guess you could call it) where they only respond to a certain twin, but apparently the reboot twins' amulets DO, so maybe reboot Vergil needs Dante to go along with him for whatever he's planning? At least as far as getting Dante's amulet to do what Vergil wants it to do, anyway.

I feel like you could have some fun with the blood ritual, too, in terms of like, exploring how Vergil is using his brother and how that makes Dante feel (bad; angry and hurt and betrayed, and its all the worse because/if reboot Dante really HAD hoped his brother was trying to connect with him again and make amends), and how Vergil thinks he doesn't "need" his brother/family any more because he's got more power now, and that's all that he thinks matters.

Idk, just. Mostly trying to dig into reboot Dante's character more. I keep thinking of him with issues with self-worth, like he sees himself as a tool, as something to be used (cause I mean, *gestures to Limbo City* living in a capitalistic hellscape'll do that to ya) only really good at killing demons. That and a sense of foreshortened future, since he probably thought he'd be dead from the demons by now, and even with Mundus gone, they're still probably hunting him, so he probably has trouble trying to live a "normal" life with Kat. Or at least as "normal" a life as they can have, being demon hunters and all.

Idk. What do you think?

Ok so firstly I want to say this is all really fun! I do think the plot of DMC3 ties in pretty easily into the reboot honestly and I'm surprised more people don't do anything with the concept. And I like it more then uh...the 'leaked' sequel idea that floats around every few years.

That and I always like the idea of Vergil going and finding Sparda and how it would be for Sparda to come back all these years later and see what became of his sons, given he was the one who decided to memory wipe them and separate them and everything.

My thoughts for a DmC2/reboot version of 3 are admittedly very swayed by my love of Kat/Vergil. I have jokingly referred to it as a gothic romance set in the ruins of the Order a few months after the end of the game. I've never had a full plotline for the concept but me and my girlfriend have discussed the idea of it being pretty loosely based around 3. Like there's still the tower of course, but this time around it's more Vergil's decided to come back from hell with his new demon king powers and army and stake claim and he creates a tower out of the ruins of the Order as a sort of home base which Dante and Kat then have to go through to find him. Which then would lead to a lot of fun character dynamics and tensions (also a lot more Kat being active in the plot and ideally playable at times).

I'm also curious how the fall of Limbo would impact Kat's powers. Like I imagine she still has them and they might work for other layers of hell, but I wonder if losing Limbo would like...untether her a bit and make her abilities stronger, since there's no longer that veil there between her and Limbo. Plus she can probably make stronger spells if she can get the right stuff.