#but the SECOND he thinks someone might be lying about Vergil

[teatitty]

You might ask me, as a huge DMC fan, what my favourite Dante moment is in the entire franchise. And to that I gleefully point to this moment in Visions of V. No other can compare to the emotions this gave me :)

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 47: Crossroads

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Forty-Seven: Crossroads

Note: *laughs like that one jerk from Dexter’s Laboratory.* Sorry for any mistakes. It was just one of those days.

(-~-)

The last cards were placed on the table, and to the surprise of only one person present, they fell in the young blond woman’s favor. A bright smile spread across her face as the demon hunter in red walked past her and around the table towards his brother, ruffling her hair in the process. It seemed that she had as little mercy for first-timers as she did for experienced players. Just the way he’d taught her.

On Vergil's part, it was a resounding loss. Even after having the rules haphazardly explained to him by his younger twin and Lady as they debated which version of the game they were actually playing and what the house rules were, he’d been somewhat confident that he would be able to pull off a win. Naturally possessing what he understood the textbook definition of a “Pokerface” to be, he was almost certain that he had not managed to give himself away to his opponent. But that did not by any means explain why he had managed to not only lose the game but to do so with astonishing speed. That game couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes!

Rotating his head slightly to make eye contact with his brother, Vergil tilted his head back slightly so that he could more easily speak to his younger twin without the worry of the entire room hearing him. He wasn’t exactly whispering, but he did desire privacy for this particular inquiry.

“Are we entirely sure that she does not come from demonic blood, Dante?”

Laughing slightly at that statement, Dante shook his head and shrugged, more amused by the question than anything else. As much as he was hoping for a case of beginner’s luck for his unfortunate twin, it seemed that the gambling gods just didn’t favor their family. For all of Vergil’s talents, cards were one of the few things that they both sucked at. That said, he had lasted longer than he’d assumed he would against her, so credit was due there. He would need to run this test with both of his nephews once they had time. Perhaps they would fare better.

“Well, she comes from a family of Alchemists or something like that on her mom’s side, but she didn’t grow up with them, and I don’t think they practice anymore. The Lowell family, if I’m remembering that right. Could be wrong about that, though.”

He had to admit that this was news to him. Patty came from magic as well? He wondered for a moment if her family had had any dealings with the Ludwigs in the past. To his knowledge, they were the biggest coven still operating in these parts. But to be fair, they were not alchemists, either. While it was true that they did possess the requisite skills, and some among their ranks had dabbled in the craft, he doubted that any of them would stay that they were experts in the craft. They were far better sorceresses than anything else. 

“Curious…”

“Honestly, I think she’s just really good at cards. She held her own in a game against some pros about a decade ago. Patty subbed in for me at one point since I wasn’t exactly winning, and losing kinda meant you’d die. The demon we were trying to catch made sure of that. The whole situation was kind of a mess.” Dante said with a shrug, shaking his head as he watched Patty laugh at something that Lady and Trish were talking about from the other side of the small table. For a moment he remembered when he’d had a pool table in that very spot. He had to say that he missed it. One of these days he would have to get another one. She’d probably be good at that, too, and he’d love to teach her how to play.

Vergil went slightly wide-eyed for a moment, fully turning around to face his twin. He couldn’t have heard that statement correctly. Surely he was imagining things. Dante had done some extraordinary unintelligent things in his lifetime. They both had… but that…  “And you thought it was an acceptable decision to let her play under those conditions?!”

Somehow he instantly knew that he was either going to fully explain that decision or find himself pinned to the wall with Yamato stuck through his head and several spectral blades piercing every extremity he possessed. Yes, that did sound bad and it had also been pretty bad, but he had realized as much at the time, and he hadn’t allowed her to really go through with it. Dante might be bad at poker, but he did know how to read a table, and the second he sensed danger, he’d pulled her out of harm’s way. It hadn’t been a perfect decision, but it was what he had done in the heat of the moment.

“Look, it wasn’t my idea in the first place. I didn’t even know she was on the boat until she showed up. It just sorta happened, ya know? And I pulled her before anything serious could happen. I wouldn’t let her get hurt. We had a pretty good idea of what we were up against.” Dante said with another shrug, unsure as to what else he could say in a situation like that. He knew that Vergil knew he wouldn’t casually risk his life, but either way, he saw his older sibling’s point.

The Darkslayer calmed slightly at that revelation and nodded. He could believe that. His younger twin clearly cared a great deal for the young lady, but he still thought that it was an awful idea and a fair bit irresponsible on his brother’s part. Knowing it hadn’t been his idea lessened that somewhat. He just hoped he wouldn’t willingly partake in something so foolish again. But considering his own track record, he was aware of the fact that he had very little ground to stand on. 

But if that was the case, then it meant that magical intervention was very unlikely, even if she had done so involuntarily. A child her age who didn’t know that she was in possession of possible power could unwittingly sway things in her favor, but he sincerely doubted that to be the case in this situation. No, she was simply just that good at the game. A genuine advisory to go up against, then. He liked that.

“… I must improve, then.”

“Good luck with that, Vergil,” Dante said as he gave his older twin a supportive pat on the shoulder. His older twin had his work cut out for him if he thought for even a second that he was going to stand a chance at beating Patty in a game of poker. If he’d never done it before and he actually knew how to play poker, then what hope did his older twin have?

Just a few feet away from the twins, Lady was laughing slightly to herself as Trish sighed and handed her the cash she owed, somewhat begrudgingly. That was what she got for assuming for even a second that Patty might ever lose a game of poker. She had to be more careful with her bets going forward. After all, Lady was a dab hand at seizing financial opportunities, and the last thing that Dante would be doing was paying back his debt anytime soon. She wouldn’t be expecting any cash from him anytime soon.

(-~-)

The cup clicked quietly as it was placed back down on the table, the tray that normally housed it gone for the moment. Using a coffee cup for tea didn’t feel right to her, and she couldn’t seem to get the ratio of sugar and water right, not to mention that the tea was either too strong or too weak for her liking. It was a never-ending cycle of mediocrity, but she would live. Bad tea was a travesty, but it wouldn’t kill her unless she mixed the wrong leaves into it, and she kept those out of her reach in another part of her house just in case she did just that in a moment of thoughtless ineptitude.

A sudden knock at the door drew her attention and aroused her suspicions as Magnolia stood up and slowly headed over towards the entrance to her home, she stopped. No one had a reason to come and knock on her door this late at night. Something didn’t feel right about this, and she knew it. Whatever was on the other side of that door could be a threat. She needed to keep her guard up.

Fixing up a quick defensive spell, she placed her left hand behind her back, keeping it at the ready as she approached the door. A quick glance through the peephole was all that it took for her to realize that someone she had never seen before in a white hoodie and a pair of black jeans stood at her door. They shifted from side to side as though they were nervous, and she noted that she could more than likely take advantage of this fact.

Opening the door quickly and giving them a sideways look, she was unsurprised when they stepped back a few steps, clearly startled and seemingly scared out of their mind. It was then that she realized that this younger individual seemed to have a bit of blood on their side. Were they injured?

Before she could inquire as to what they were doing at her doorway and what was going on, they cleared their throat and looked around, clearly nervous. “Please, there isn’t much time. I need to tell you something. I’ll explain everything, but you have to let me in. I can’t let them see either of us, or it won’t end well. I know you don’t know me, but I’m begging you to trust me. I don’t have anything to gain by lying.”

She studied them for a moment, considering his words. They seemed to grow more and more afraid by the moment, and she didn’t sense anything amiss about them. Perhaps whatever unease she felt in the pit of her stomach was due to whatever they were seemingly fleeing from. If that was the case, then she was going to need to activate the defensive wards she had placed around her house. Something told her that she would regret it if she didn’t.

“You had better not be playing me for a fool, child. I don’t like to play games with strangers. Come in quickly. You have some explaining to do.

A look of elated relief crossed the stranger’s face as they practically dived through the door, clearly feeling instantaneously safer just by crossing the threshold of her house. She folded her arms as they took a moment to compose themselves before turning back to face her, shuddering from the change in temperature in her home as opposed to the arctic cold front that had moved in just outside of the door.

“That’s what I’m here to do, ma’am. To explain everything… And to warn you of what’s to come. Because it’s bad. Very, very bad. And I don’t think any of you are ready.”

(-~-)

It hadn’t really occurred to them until they had left that they didn’t really have a way of getting to V’s house on the other side of town without the van. Nico was still in Fortuna, and couldn’t get a ferry over to the mainland until morning came, so they were either looking at walking about ten miles, or they were going to be taking the metro lines. It wasn’t exactly a difficult choice, but it did mean that Nero wasn’t going to get to eat whatever Kyrie had been making for dinner. It was a tragedy that his father would pay dearly for if not for the circumstances.

Unfortunately, hindsight is twenty-twenty after all, and while Nero registered the fact that they should have probably just gone back to the office and asked his father to drop them back off at their respective homes, he couldn’t say that any of them really had anything better to do than catch a train and go for a ride.

As they entered the terminal, the trio was surprised by how quickly they almost got lost. It seemed that several lines were out of order due to the destruction caused by the Qliphoth several months back, and what few people there were seemed to be a bit on edge about the prospect of riding a train when just some parts of the region were still experiencing inconsistent tectonic activity as a result of the attack. Apparently, some of the areas that had once been inhabited by the roots of the massive demonic tree were still settling.

Nero genuinely wondered if they would ever be able to repair that city; if the lives of everyone who had once been in that region would ever be the same. The majority of the people there had been able to evacuate before the worst had happened, but it had been a huge place, and countless lives had still been lost. 

Perhaps it was best that he not think about it for now. It was still all over the news as it was, looming over the hearts and minds of everyone who heard or saw it. After all, everyone knew. And it seemed that the laboratories that had been contracted to research the cause of the destruction had been unable to come up with a scientific explanation for the flora that had started to bloom within the exclusion zone in the time since the attack. Well, at least one that didn’t obviously scream “demons”. 

Big surprise there. 

The general public the world over seemed to know what had really happened there since so many people had been there at the time and lived to describe their first-hand experiences, but while the local government attempted to find any other explanation, the damage was done. Even if no one running the country wanted to go on paper or public television and explain the actual reason, seeing it with their own eyes had been all the proof that basically every resident of the surrounding area needed.

Bleak times they lived in.

Slipping through the security checks had been surprisingly simple. While there had been a man on standby with a metal detector, the second that V’s cane had set off the machine, he’d allowed them both to pass, seemingly uncomfortable with the fact that he was holding someone up who probably didn’t like to stand for long periods of time. He had more than likely assumed that asking for the young summoner to stand there without his cane while he looked it over would be overstepping somewhat, so he had simply allowed them to pass, not realizing that in an ironic twist both Lucia and Nero possessed weapons of their own, and that V was certainly more dangerous than his frail demeanor allowed him to appear.

As they approached the onboarding ramp, Lucia took a look at the map. She had made a point of trying to remember where all of their homes were in case she needed to find them, and although she didn’t know basically any of the local street names, she remembered a few key ones. Namely the larger intersections closest to their homes. And back home she was quite good at traversing the underground railways in her area. This wouldn’t be too bad. “To my understanding, we should only need to go three stops.”

Looking over at the wall-mounted route map, V studied it for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. He then turned back to looking over at… whatever he had been looking at previously, shifting in discomfort slightly. Nero and Lucia both took note of this subtle change in his demeanor, but were hesitant to ask what seemed to be making him so uncomfortable. That was until V swayed slightly and had to catch himself, his palm making its way up to his forehead before his fingered rubbed his left temple. He didn’t seem to be in noticeable pain, but he was most certainly disorientated.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is something wrong? Are you alright?” Lucia asked pleasantly, clearly worried. She allowed her right arm to list slowly as she got within catching distance of the young man, unwilling to allow him to topple over should the need arise. He couldn’t be that heavy.

Nero nodded in agreement, placing his hand on V’s shoulder and gesturing towards a bench that sat near the boarding area. People were watching them more than they already had been when how much they stood out was taken into account, but that was the least of Nero’s concerns. “Do you want to sit down? You seem kinda dizzy or something.”

V shook his head slightly, lowering his hand. He then looked back over in the direction of the boarding platform that he had been studying just a second before. It stood on the opposite side of the tracks, and he couldn’t say that he wasn’t concerned with what he thought he’d seen. He liked to believe that his eyes were simply playing tricks on him, but that was rarely the case. His hearing and eyesight were perfectly fine, exceedingly so, in fact. His mind might play tricks on him, but his other senses did not.

“I believe that someone may be following us.”

The devil hunter with the short hair turned to look, but Lucia stopped him. She then looked back over at V, nodding very subtly. “Then it may be best to not let them know that we are onto them. What gave them away?”

Gesturing in a manner casual enough to not attract attention, V tilted his head slowly in a pointing manner towards the other side of the tracks. There, an obscure figure in a long white coat stood by a pole, looking directly at them with what could only be described as an intense stare. They didn’t move, and their face couldn’t be clearly made out from where they were. It was as if there were some otherworldly that kept them from being able to identify this figure, and it was unnerving, to say the least.

“... Call it a hunch that I have.”

Seemingly realizing what he was referring to, Lucia was about to say something when a train pulled across in front of the other side of the track, obscuring the target of their attention. A little less than a minute passed before it pulled off again, revealing that the person in question had disappeared. They looked around, not seeing where they had gone but now silently alarmed that they had lost them. There was no way that they could board the train now. Allowing this individual to know where they were going wasn’t at all a card that they were willing to play.

“What do you think we should-’”

Just as Lucia was attempting to finish asking her question, a screeching noise could be heard from the train tunnel on their right side, the direction that their ride should have been coming from. Cacophonous screaming could be heard as people with a better view of the platform suddenly turned and ran for the stairs on either side of them. Backing up out of reflex, the trio looked at one another, unsure as to what was going on.

But they didn’t have to wonder for long. Just seconds later an ear-piercing screech echoed through the terminal as the train came flying through the terminal on its side and crashed into a support beam, knocking them back on their backs and the wind out of their lungs with the sheer force of the impact it made with the platform they were standing on. As the power to the terminal cut, a rumbling noise could be heard from all around them as part of the ceiling above them to one side cracked and fell in. And then everything went dark.

(-~-)

*Laughs evilly to myself.* Some of you asked if the finale was drawing near. I assure you, this is the beginning of the true build-up to that climax. It’s going to take a few chapters to get there, but now that all of the main players have been introduced, we can begin the true descent into madness. *Evil laugh.*

I hope you enjoyed the cliffhanger! See you next week on Wednesday and in the comment section. Stay safe out there!

[zenithlux]

Tendrils of Regret - Part 4

Read the story on AO3 here!

You remember the first night V slept by your side. 

It was the second week after he freed you from the demon and the fifth night in a row you’d woken up from horrible nightmares. The demon’s thoughts were still in your head, digging into your psyche both while awake and certainly while you were asleep. And nothing you did helped. Not the soothing tea. Not the warm showers. Not the plants near your bedside or Shadow sleeping beside you. Nothing helped. Not until V came to your aid. 

He entered your room in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry,” He said as he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

You could believe it. You felt warm, especially with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’ll never escape,” You said, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“There’s nothing to escape from,” V said. “You’re already getting stronger.”

“It doesn’t mean anything if I never sleep.”

“Don’t say never,” He lightly chided. “You’ve had good nights.”

“Only a few.”

“It’s better than none.”

You groaned. “You’re far too optimistic.”

He took your hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “Only for you.” You blushed. The rose on your side table bloomed. You glared at it, but V just laughed. “No use in hiding your moods.”

“Is that why you put it there?”

“I want you to be comfortable,” V said. “If it helps… then it helps.”

And it did help. You felt connected to the plants now, for better or for worse. Their energy was yours to manipulate, even if it would be months before you fully understood how to make it work. Not that you would ever understand why it worked. You just knew it did. “So what’s the plan?”

“You need to sleep.”

You frowned. “After a nightmare like that?”

V sat his cane down. Shadow appeared at his feet, hopping onto the bed and curling up behind you. “Would it be alright if I accompanied you?”

“In bed?”

V nodded. “You do well with Shadow, and I think you might do well with me,” His hand gently moved your hair behind your ear. “It’s your choice.”

Shadow purred as you nodded, holding your hand out to him. “Don’t go,” You whispered. “I don’t want to be alone.” You trusted him already. He’d saved you. He’d protected you from the demons that threatened your life and taught you everything you knew. And maybe you were too trusting, but you didn’t care. You had nothing else. Nothing but your plants, your vine, and him. And V followed as you pulled him, lying on the bed with the covers between you. One hand rested on your side as Shadow’s continued purring began to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m here,” He said. “Just for you.”

--------------

You woke up slowly as if rising from underwater. You smelled a variety of strong, conflicting scents and, when you opened your eyes, you were overwhelmed by foliage. Plants were everywhere, spilling from baskets and hanging from the ceiling. Your single red rose had turned into twelve blue ones that were all a bit larger than normal. Stems were braided in the corners. Flowers covered every surface, spilling down over your drawers, up your mirror and around the legs of all the furniture. When you sat up, you were relieved to see that none of them were bursting through the floor. No, someone had put all of these in your room, but you had a feeling it hadn’t looked like this when they were done. 

You turned slowly, feet touching the cold, wooden floor. You closed your eyes, feeling for all the plants on the edges of your mind. Once you found a few, you waved your hand, pulling back some of the life within them. When you opened your eyes again, many had shrunk back to an acceptable size. It was then that you realized you were in one of your nightgowns and your hair was still wet. How long had you been out? Who changed you? Why all of this?

A light knock at the door was one you instantly recognized. Lady! You tried to stand, but dizziness had you sitting right back on the bed. “Come in.”

Your jaw went slack when it was Vergil that entered, brushing aside the vines as he closed the door behind him. You suddenly felt very exposed, even though you were well covered. His expressionless gaze almost had you wilting. A few of your flowers shrank with your mood. “What do you want?” You said warily, lacking the energy needed for your usual sass. In fact, you felt drained, way more than you thought you should after absorbing such a large demon. You took one of the roses and lay it in your hand, watching as it withered away, donating its life to you. You placed it back on the table and looked up at him. 

“I’ve been informed that I am, under no uncertain terms, to make a truce with you.”

“A truce?” You echoed. “What?”

“I am to stop antagonizing you and avoid giving accidental commands whenever possible.” You were almost impressed at how even his voice sounded. There was no disdain as far as you could tell, but his face didn’t give anything away. He was talking pure business, and that was something you could manage. 

“That would be appreciated,” You said. 

“I’ve also been informed that I am to be your partner for the foreseeable future.”

“My what now?”  You said. “I don’t need…”

“Neither do I,” He interrupted. “But considering the circumstances behind your… condition… the others have tasked me with ensuring that you are…” His jaw set. “Taken care of.”

You snorted. “What did you put it to a vote?”

“I had no part in that decision,” He said flatly. 

“But you’re going with it anyway.?”

“Unless you tell me otherwise.”

“Is that a sliver of hope I hear?”

His eyes narrowed. “Dante has made it very clear that he would be… disappointed in me if that were to happen.”

“Oh good,” You said. “Then feel free to leave.”

Vergil’s hand tightened on his sword. “Lady and Trish were going to speak to you first, but…”

“But you jumped at the chance?” You said. “How nice of you.”

“Will you…” He took a deep breath to steady himself and started again. “I did some research on your condition, but we need more time to fix it.”

“Will you stop calling it that?” She said. “You make it sound like I’m slowly dying of some horrible disease.”

“There is nothing else to call it,” Vergil said. 

“I suppose “my mistake” would be too difficult for you to say.”

You didn’t think his eyes could narrow any further. They did. “You’re obnoxious.”

“Are you projecting?” 

He took another slow breath, but you saw the way his knuckles were slowly turning white around the hilt of his katana. Why did you enjoy this so much? Normally making someone this upset (angry? furious?) would bother you. But with him you almost felt vindicated. Maybe it was the fact that your “condition” was his fault to begin with. Maybe it's because you were still in denial and expected V to walk in the door at any time. “Look,” He said. “I don’t expect us to like each other, but everyone expects us to at least get along. Either we can act like adults, or we can both go our separate ways and be done with it.”

You were silent for a long moment. We can act like adults. Nice of him to actually point some of the blame at himself, even if it was in a backhanded way.  But could you trust him? A large part of you said no. It was too easy for him to control you. One slip up or wrong word choice and you’d be caught right under his demonic spell. But if he was being serious… and if the others believed in him... 

“Fine,” You said slowly. “But I have some caveats.” 

You swore you saw his eyebrows twitch. “Such as?”

You held up one finger. “Stop complaining about my music. You’re not going to stop me from listening to it.” You held up a second finger before he could respond. “Let me deal with the demons and stop bringing them inside.” Again, he moved to speak, but you put up a third finger. “Bring home something other than pizza for a change.”

You swore you saw the flicker of a smile. “Fine.”

“Fine,” You repeated. “Then I’ll go with you.

“Morrison has called in a few different requests. Dante and the others went for one, and they expect us to handle the others.”

“Urgent?”

“You have some time.” He said. 

You paused a moment. Then, “How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

You choked. “Two days?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself,” He said as he turned back toward the door. “And I suggest you get these plants figured out.”

“I’ll be the one to worry about my plants,” You said. “You leave them alone.”

Vergil paused, glancing back into the room. “He slept here?”

It took you a moment to realize who he was talking about. Odd that he wasn’t saying “I”, but maybe he too was still struggling with it as much as you. “Most of the time. We never had quite so many plants though.”

He paused again. Then, “I was told this was the best way to even out your demonic energy.”

You blinked. “You did this?”

“I’m leaving in an hour,” He said without looking back. “With or without you.”

Then he left, leaving you irrefutably confused and, surprisingly, a little disappointed. 

-----------------

An hour was rather generous of him, so you made sure to use every bit of it. You even set a hard timer on your phone, so he couldn’t possibly argue with you when you sauntered down to the front of the store exactly 59 minutes since he left, ready to go. This time, you had been a bit smarter about your clothing choice, just in case the vine wanted to come out and play again; a low hanging tank top and a jacket zipped up to your neck to hide the scar. And he did scowl at you - you had a feeling you’d never get away from that - but he didn’t complain and off you went. 

Today, you had three separate jobs; two scouting requests (you didn’t find anything on those) and one suspicious potential demon in a greenhouse on the other side of the city. You ignored the irony that you of all people were sent to the greenhouses, but you realized immediately upon your arrival that it may have been for more reasons than just a demon. The plants inside were sickly. Flowers were wilting. Fruits and vegetables were dying. And, if you remembered right, this was a very important source of food for the people that had survived the tree. 

“Can you fix this?” Vergil said as he knelt in front of vines filled with rotten tomatoes. 

You knelt beside him, brushing your fingers against the vegetables. The rot slowly disappeared, and the tomatoes turned a bright, fresh red once again. “I don’t know about all of them,” You said. “Not without some demons for fuel.”

“There are some around,” He said. 

“Hiding?”

“You can’t feel them?”

You paused, pressing your fingers against the ground. You could feel the roots wrapping around themselves and seeds that had yet to grow. But you could also feel strange holes in between them. Small, humanoid shaped holes. “Not directly,” You said. “But…” You twisted your hand, moving a few of the roots. Then, you pulled your hand up, spearing them through the holes. You heard a few screeches that went silent within seconds. “They’re what's eating the plants away.”

Vergil left your side, slicing through the ground over where you felt one of the holes. He ripped a demon body out of it, stabbing it himself before tossing it at your feet. You wrinkled your nose, grateful it wasn’t one of the stinkier demons you’d dealt with over the last few weeks. “How did you manage that?” You said. 

He smirked, but it faded quickly. “The Yamato can cut through anything.”

Yamato. He spoke of it so fondly. Almost like a parent would a child. That was the first time you’d head that name. Dante had proudly named his own sword “Devil Sword Dante” apparently (and you’d teased him over that more than enough by now), but Yamato seemed… different. Just as special, you assumed, but different in a way you couldn’t understand. You wondered if that would be something he’d be willing to tell you about if you asked. 

“There’s more,” He said. 

“You want me to kill them?”

“That’s what you’re here for.”

You rolled your eyes. “And here I thought you didn’t need me.” You hopped around to the other side of the demon - a small, gremlin looking thing - and unzipped the top of  your vest. The vine was quick this time, sucking out the rest of the demon’s blood with eagerness before vanishing again. You zipped up your jacket and felt for more gaps. You found five in total, but only three were big enough to absorb anything from. However, you made sure to pour back whatever you got into the soil, regrowing all the plants you could. 

“Will they grow back normally?”

You blinked before you realized he’d even spoken. “They should if they’re taken care of,” You said. “But I take care of my own flowers so…” You shrugged as you moved back to the entrance. “There’s more nearby. A lot more. I’ll get what I can but you might have to start carrying your own weight.” You gave him a dismissive wave and wandered over to the next greenhouse before he could respond. You did, however, hear a light sigh of annoyance as you walked away. 

The second greenhouse was as infested as the first, with you uprooting the few you killed and Vergil grabbing others before you could. By the third greenhouse, it had turned into something close to a competition, with him moving much faster than a human should and you stretching your mental connection as far as it could possibly go to beat him to the punch. A few times, you swore he just disappeared and wondered if his demon powers gave him the ability to teleport. Of course, that was probably cheating, but you were at the limits of your power, so it seemed only fair he should get to use his own. 

By the sixth greenhouse you were exhausted, and the demons you were finding weren’t enough to sustain the number of plants you’d brought back to life. You sat down outside of it, breathing heavily as you leaned your head back and let your eyes close. It was the last one, but you weren’t sure if you’d be able to fix it today. Even your senses were muddled, as you weren’t even able to feel the roots of the grass anymore. 

But you’d done a great service. That had to be good enough. 

“Done already?” Vergil said.

You opened your eyes just to glare at him. “Not all of us have the stamina you do.” 

Was that another flicker of a smirk? You weren’t certain. “Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged me.”

“I never challenged you,” You said. “I just told you to stop being dead weight.”

Vergil rolled his eyes. “Stay here. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Don’t you dare think me weak,” you said, throwing your hand out. It was shaky and fell back against your side quicker than you intended. “I’m more than capable of…” Deep breath. “Keeping up.”

“Clearly,” Vergil said as he entered the greenhouse. You heard the screeches of demons behind you and just closed your eyes again. You’d siphon energy from them later. He’d been pretty good so far at leaving everything for you, but you supposed he didn’t need it. He clearly had all the power he needed while you were left to siphon from the leftovers. 

A rustle from nearby caught your attention. You let your head fall to the side, staring out over the open field. You noticed subtle movement in the grass. But there was no wind to stir it up and nobody in the fields to disturb it. Frowning, you forced yourself to your feet and moved over to where you thought the rustling was coming from. You placed your hand on the ground, drawing from the grass so you could sense what was underneath it. 

Your eyes widened. Big holes. Dozens of them. How had you not sensed them before? 

“Verg…”

You screamed as numerous holes burst open at once. The gremlin demons landed and charged straight at you. You tried to get to your feet, but your exhaustion took over and you crumbled. You reached for the grass, begging it to rise for you. But it wilted instead. You snapped your head up as a gremlin jumped at you. 

Blue lines filled the air between you and the demons. The gremlins screamed as they hit the ground, sliced to pieces. Your eyes caught a blue blur, and the others nearby died in an instant. Vergil appeared before you, sheathing Yamato with a loud, deliberate click. You stared at him, mouth agape as your heart pounded somewhere in your throat. “I didn’t sense them.”

“You were too focused on the greenhouses,” He said. 

“You knew they were there?”

“I knew there were more around,” Vergil turned to the carnage of broken soil and torn roots. “We’ll get some soil sent over from Fortuna. Send Dante out to fix it.”

You pushed yourself back to your feet, wincing as you took a few steps forward. Most of the demons had already bled out, but there were a few you could still absorb. I don’t deserve these, you thought. You didn’t kill them. You weren’t stronger than them. But you needed the energy, and all you could imagine was V smiling as he took a step back, ignoring the demons he and the others had killed in front of you. 

You need it too. 

“Thank you,” You whispered as you zipped your coat back up. 

“Is a day enough time for you to recover?”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “There’s plenty of demons here.”

“Dante promised to bring some home.”

“... That’s kind of him.”

Vergil turned away. “We’re done here.” 

“Wait,” You said as you moved to the last greenhouse. 

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the last one,” You said as you pushed yourself inside.

“You don’t have the energy for that.”

“You don’t know what kind of energy I have,” You said as you continued into the middle of the greenhouse, turning your hand as you went. The plants bloomed as you passed by, smaller than the other greenhouses, but alive and ready for someone else to take care of them. When you were done, you took a deep breath, listening for the vine. It was silent now, and you wondered if you’d managed to even your energy out. “Now we can go,” You said, but jumped when you realized Vergil was in the doorway. 

“You’re pushing yourself.”

“I’m doing my job,” You said. “Why else would you all have sent me here?” You moved to push past him, but he didn’t let you. His gaze locked with yours, but you still couldn’t read his expression. “What?” You said, unable to hide your frustration. “Were you expecting me to just stand around and watch you do everything?”

“No,” He said. 

“Then what is it?”

“Is this how you were with him?”

You froze, confused. “Like… what with him?”

“Loud and careless.”

Your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed. “We knew how to work together,” You said. “And respected each other, something I’m not even sure you’re capable of.” 

He let you move past him then, and you flipped open your phone to call someone else for a ride.

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Chapter 13

Behind the Masks

Warnings for gore and murder, but there’s a bit of fluff at the end for once :3

Word count - 4,121

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

-------------

---V---

He woke to the sound of cursing. Bright light shone through his closed lids and a faint aroma he vaguely recognized teased at his nostrils. Comforting warmth enveloped him, the product of a bulky knitted blanket. He was horizontal, how did that happen?

More importantly, where am I?

More cursing. Heavy steps, someone pacing. That voice, he knew that voice…

“What the fuck, what the fuck, I’m gonna go to jail. What the fuck?!”

Dark lashes parted, painfully slowly to give his pupils time to adjust. Plain beige walls greeted him, tasteful art placed in strategic positions throughout the space. Modern furniture dotted the room, arranged to make it seem more spacious than it was. He was lying on a couch, black leather and minimalistic. To his right, a modest TV hung upon the wall beside a small desk with a laptop resting on it. The accursed beanie rested on a coffee table nearby.

“Shit, what the fuck, I’ve lost my mind! What was I thinking?”

The artist sat up and tugged the offensively itchy fabric back into place on his scalp, struggling to organize his thoughts. This must be your home, but how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was the museum, and then…

He licked his lips. What a sweet memory. After such a display, it wouldn’t be much longer before he filled you with more than his fingers.

“V! Finally!” 

His smirk turned to a frown as your quick footsteps brought your worried face into his line of sight. “What do you mean, finally?”

“You’ve been unresponsive for three hours. How do you feel? Let me check your vitals,” you began, already pulling a small flashlight from your pocket to shine in his eyes. 

The artist flinched away, batting at your arm with an annoyed huff. “I’m fine, there’s no need.”

It was sweet of you to fret, but the only lingering effect he noticed was a slight fatigue, and perhaps an irritating itch of deja vu. Nothing alarming, and nothing worth showing weakness, even to you. 

She forgets her place. 

He hummed as you sat back, attentive eyes watching his every move. Vergil was wrong, you didn’t forget your place at all. In fact, he might even say you were where you belonged for the first time.

At his side.

Lithe fingers lifted to dance across your cheekbone, stealing a quiet sigh from your lips. So responsive, so lovely and delicious. His hand drifted lower, his thumb curling to wrap around your slim neck and pull you closer. Your pulse fluttered under his touch even as you instinctively resisted, like any prey facing its predator.

His mind went deliciously blank as your lips met his. Your small hands pressed against his chest as if to fend him off, but with each shift of his mouth, your attempts weakened. Leather squeaked as he leaned closer, shifting his body to curve over you. Another way to assert his dominance.

Yet you still rebelled against his will, stubbornly refusing to lower yourself to lie beneath him properly. True, you would be his equal if he had his way, but for now…

He tightened his grip on your neck until you succumbed. It was a delicate balance to cut off the blood supply to your brain yet to leave your airway unencumbered, and his fingers itched to clamp down and claim his prize. 

How exquisite you’d be, flaying your first victim and carving your way to the truth. Splashes of scarlet on your smooth skin, glimmering silver in your palm and a smile on your face. Oh, how delightful it would be to bury himself in you in the aftermath, when you were still drunk on discovery. 

He pressed his hips into your thigh, letting you feel the ache you woke with a soft groan. The same hands that once pushed him away now danced under his shirt, feather soft touches caressing his skin. Heavenly.

The fires of lust in his cock turned to ice as a sharp knock rang from the wooden front door. Surely you hadn’t betrayed him? Jade eyes searched your expression, digging beneath the panic and confusion to find any hint of disloyalty hidden beneath, yet he saw only more of the same. No, you clearly didn’t expect company.

A second knock, more insistent than the first. Whoever it was, they lacked patience.

“Shit, uhh… fuck,” you mumbled, extricating yourself from his grasp. “It might be my dad… fuck.”

He didn’t like the look on your face, not one bit. “Would you like me to remove him?”

“What?! Have you lost your- no, I do not want you to ‘remove’ my father!”

Yeesh, it was just a question!

He didn’t quite understand. It was a simple offer, you didn’t need to make a fuss. Besides, if the man’s existence brought such an expression, he clearly needed to be dealt with. Perhaps you’d change your mind?

“Look, just… I’ll handle it, you go upstairs and keep quiet,” you said. “Fuck!”

The artist frowned but did as you asked, climbing the narrow staircase to crouch behind a conveniently placed shelf. Blood pounded in his ears, a clammy film coating his palms. If ever you would betray him, now was the moment. When no blade waited in his hand for an offering, when he had no chance of escape. His fate rested in the choices you made over the next few minutes.

The door opened to reveal two figures, though the angle was poor and he couldn’t discern any details. It didn’t particularly matter who they were; none could know he was here.

“Oh! Officer Redgrave, Officer Goldstein, what can I do for you?”

Officers? They’re cops?! You gotta get outta here!

Yet he ignored the avian voice. Why bother telling him to hide if you were turning him in? It didn’t make sense, something else was going on. More information was required before selecting a response.

A low voice replied, though the words were a mystery. You widened the opening and gestured for the strangers to enter, shooting a surreptitious glance his way. The artist ducked lower, just in time as the two figures entered.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.”

“Aw, this ain’t nothin’. You should see my place!”

The wooden chairs surrounding your dining table creaked as the strangers made themselves at home. As the duo exchanged pleasantries with you, the artist couldn’t resist peeking around the edge to get a glimpse, now that he might be able to spot a useful detail. He needed to assess the threat and possible outcomes, as if he had any control.

Of course, his eyes went straight to your face to find a stony expression, far too frozen to be natural.

The other two didn’t seem to notice. Fools. How could they ever hope to catch him, when they didn’t even notice he was in the same apartment? It would've made him laugh outright if not for the need for silence.

“So, we got the paperwork finished. You are officially a police consultant, doc. Congrats.”

“Just in time for the next body to drop, too. We’re headed to the scene now, wanna come?”

The artist grinned. Surely you wouldn’t miss the meaning behind his work if you saw it in person? How perfect, he couldn’t have planned it better. 

“Yeah, uh… okay, I’ll just need a few minutes. Can I meet you downstairs?”

The two cops exchanged a look but stood, the female stretching her arms as if she’d been sitting for hours instead of minutes. 

“Sure, just be quick. Every minute counts!”

He ducked back to hide as you escorted the two to the door. The moment the lock slid into place, a deep sigh slipped from your lips. 

Huh, look at that. She didn’t rat you out.

“As if there was any reason to doubt,” he replied quietly. 

I can think of a few!

He rolled his eyes and stood, descending the stairs to find you frantically gathering your things.

“Stay here, okay? I don’t- I don’t know how long I’ll be but you need to stay put, got it?”

He scratched his scalp and nodded, mind already focused elsewhere. It was difficult to focus with so many new things to examine and so much to learn, here in the place you called home. Didn’t most people have photos of loved ones? Where did you keep yours, if not on the walls?

“I’m serious, V. God, this is unbelievable… what am I doing?”

The artist hummed, lips curling in amusement. Watching your metamorphosis was such a delight, what a perfect companion you’d become. 

“You’re doing what you want to, instead of what others expect.”

Your lips pursed, a sharp glare lacking any true weight glittering in your eyes. “Stay. Here.”

---Reader---

Outside, Nico and Tony waited by a standard police sedan. Surely they’d let you drive yourself; they wouldn’t make you sit in the back like some kind of criminal, right?

Even though I’m aiding and abetting one…

But this wasn’t the time to think about the murderer currently lounging on your couch. You needed to focus, keep up the appearance of normalcy. Just a little longer, you’d figure this out. All you needed was time. 

“You wanna hop in the back or follow us?” Tony asked.

A nervous laugh spilled from your lips. “I’ll follow, thanks.”

Nico grinned and held out her palm to her partner. “Told ya. Pay up, old man.”

He groaned and slapped her hand back, mumbling curses under his breath as he hopped into the patrol car’s drivers seat. 

Nico paused, watching as you turned to unlock your car. 

“You drive that thing? Are you sure it ain’t gonna explode on the way?” she commented, her eyes wide and locked on your rickety beast. You hadn’t even turned it on yet, no doubt she’d have more to say once she heard it. Better have the music nice and loud, then. 

“Hasn’t failed me yet,” you replied.

The look she gave you made you want to scream. Disdain or pity, maybe a hint of condescension. As if driving a car like yours made you inferior. If only she knew the murderer she was hunting currently occupied your apartment.

He’d better still be there when I get back…

---------

Tony was easy to follow, even with the anxious fluttering stealing your focus.What would you find at the latest scene? What monstrosity had V created now? And how were you going to manage to balance looking like you knew your stuff and covering his tracks?

You sighed. 

As much as you wanted to unravel the mysterious artist, he’d rapidly made a total mess of your life. It felt like being trapped in a spider’s web, watching and waiting as your doom crept closer to consume you. Like you were a fly, desperately flapping your tiny wings as if there was any hope of escape. 

You shoved the thought aside as Tony slowed, pulling into an empty spot in front of a small home currently lit in red and blue from the swirling police lights. Yellow tape cordoned off the small yard, a few stern looking officers milling about to dissuade the neighbors from getting too nosy. 

It was a nice area, if cramped. Colorful homes stood mere feet apart. Shrubs and small trees filled the front yards, adding a layer of refinement absent in most of the city. V chose his location well. A murder in such a luxurious neighborhood would set the entire upper class into chaos.

Not even your fancy security gates can keep you safe from him…

Back in high school, kids from these types of homes were the bane of your existence. A little fear might do them well. At the very least, it might distract them from bullying others for a while.

You turned down the volume to a respectful level as you pulled into an empty spot on the curb, cringing as the engine loudly rattled. Maybe you should’ve ridden in the back, just to hide how crappy your car was…

Oh well. Too late now.

Tony and Nico waited by the driveway, chatting with another officer as you approached. You couldn't put your finger on it, but the woman’s uniform seemed different somehow. 

“Lieutenant, this is Dr. Waras, the consultant I told you about,” Tony said, gesturing towards you.

Her angular features and rigid posture reminded you of a stereotypical drill sergeant, but at the introduction her face relaxed into a grim smile and a hand extended to shake yours. 

“Good to have you, doctor. CSI’s already finished, but try not to disturb anything just in case. Booties are by the door.”

---------

Scarlet droplets marked the artist’s path from the front walkway inside. Small yellow tags sat by each fallen drip, each with a number etched in black. The colors contrasted with the shiny oak floor and you couldn’t help but be amused by it, that all the wealth and status of this home did nothing to protect it from V’s creation.

Nothing can protect you from the horror of reality.

You stepped carefully around a few yellow markers, past the elaborate kitchen and polished granite countertops to follow Tony further inside. Smiling family photos dotted the walls and one of those fancy voice-activated devices sat on a hall table. By all appearances, a young and happy family lived here.

Tony led you to the master bedroom and paused at the door. “I’d recommend you breathe through your mouth. You haven’t eaten recently, have you?”

You rolled your eyes. After seeing Ken’s melted arms and smelling death from the orderly he’d murdered, you weren’t worried. Besides, scent was easy to ignore most of the time. It was a matter of will power.

Beyond the door was a tableau of mutilated meat. Spread out amongst the sturdy furniture and tasteful decorations, the artist had arranged sections of what could only be human flesh. A muscle here, a tendon there… There was blood, of course, but the scene wasn’t as drenched as you would’ve expected from the artist. 

Tony stayed in the doorway and watched as you wandered through the room. It was clear in his eyes that he wanted to vomit or shoot someone, but you ignored him. Far more interesting was the strange display.

Which muscle was that? How did all these pieces fit together to make a person? Humans really were just meat, when you came down to it. Hunks of steak with the rare ability to create and imagine. 

But why had V done this? He always had a reason, he said so himself. Why go through the trouble of carving up some poor soul and hauling their carcas here to arrange this way? 

You stared at the scene for what felt like hours, searching for meaning in the macabre. There had to be something, there just had to be. All you had to do was find it.

It wasn’t until you tilted your head that the design became clear. From most angles, the spread of tissue lacked any rhyme or reason, but now?

Now all the tendrils of tendons and filets of flesh came together to form a single letter.

V.

Yet there were still pieces that didn’t fit the pattern. Outliers, strewn about like so much garbage. 

“We managed to ID the fucker. Name’s Michael DuPonte. Known rapist that we never managed to charge with anything. Guess it’s a moot point, now,” Tony explained from the hall. 

He deserved this, then. 

Who knew how many women he’d made his victims? Even one was too many. You’d worked with sexual assault victims for a while in school, part of your thesis on criminal behavior. Their stories hadn’t been easy to hear.

Mostly because they kept using all the tissues you brought, but one or two told tales that hit too close to home. If it wouldn’t contaminate the scene, you’d have enjoyed spitting on his cock. Or dancing on it, perhaps. Maybe both.

Stay focused, come on! It still doesn’t make sense. Maybe another angle?

With careful steps, you navigated the room and examined the gruesome display at every angle imaginable. At last, you found it - the viewpoint that brought it all home. 

Again, the remains created a single letter, but it was a different one. 

W.

This, this was his point. Not a single nugget was left out, the perfect reformation of a person. Nothing wasted, all to build a message meant for the world.

But why W?

It seemed arrogant to assume it was a reference to your name, but you couldn’t think of another option that made sense. Winter, warrior, wendigo, watershed…

No. It stood for Waras.

The realization sent a shockwave through you. There was no denying the madman had a disturbing fixation on you, especially after the incident in the museum. But to see it laid out for all to see, if only they were clever enough to look, forced you to face it head on. No more hiding. This went way beyond professional curiosity now.

What am I going to do?

Your heart pounded, goosebumps prickling your skin. Blood rushed in your ears and the urge to laugh almost broke free. Of all the people in the world to have interested in you, you got the serial killer. 

Shit, and what about me? Am I interested in him?

Despite his flaws, it was comforting to know someone truly cared. Loneliness was a constant undercurrent in your life and you’d long ago accepted that. You were a freak, incapable of connecting on a deep level like everyone else did so easily. Others couldn’t be trusted, and if they saw beneath your facade they’d surely run away screaming.

But he wouldn’t. The artist already saw past your mask and he was still here. That fact alone brought a smile to your lips and warmth to your heart. Not to mention he was clearly more fucked up than you. For him to run would be the height of hypocrisy. Maybe this was your chance to have it all. Maybe he could finally ease the isolation.

Maybe you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

---V---

To his credit, he tried to be respectful. He really did. It seemed immoral to abuse the trust you placed in him, by leaving him alone in your home. Not that there’d been much choice, but that wasn’t the point.

Yet inevitably, his curiosity overpowered his reason. There was so much he might learn about you, who knew what secrets he’d uncover?

First, he pawed through the kitchen drawers. Nothing of particular interest; only the usual collection of kitchen utensils met his wandering hands. 

Next to draw his attention was the hall closet, where he found cleaning supplies and coats. A few pairs of boots and stylish heels, a box fan and a crate of basic crafting supplies rounded out the packed shelves.

C’mon, there’s gotta be something interesting here!

I’d prefer something useful…

He had to admit, he was disappointed by the mundanity of your home. He’d imagined it to be a more truthful reflection of your personality, but instead it was simply another layer of falsehood to peel through before he could expose your true value. So many masks, why did you bother with them all? It must be exhausting. 

On to the bedroom. Maybe he’d discover a secret hoard of filthy novels or a box of buckles and straps. He certainly hoped so.

But no, even your bedroom lacked any glimpse beneath the surface. It was infuriating, to imagine the circumstances which led you to hide your true self even in your most private of spaces. He would shred whomever built your cage, tear them to pieces as slowly as possible. Drawing out the process wasn’t something familiar to him, but surely it couldn’t be that difficult to keep someone alive and in excruciating agony.

It was in your bedside table that he found it - a stack of photos showing you and several recurring faces. There you were, graduating college. And there, a birthday. Another showed you planting a kiss on an older man’s cheek. Was that your father? You had the same nose. Perhaps the meaning behind your earlier expression hid in the image. 

He took a seat on the bed and examined every pixel of the photo. A drink sat by the man’s hand, a haze of drunkenness evident even in a simple snapshot. Sheets of paper kept the half-full glass company, some kind of form if he had to guess. 

And you… though your lips pressed against the man’s cheek in an unmistakable gesture of love, your eyes remained on whomever took the photo. Worry tainted your lovely eyes and your body angled away from the man, as if you craved an escape. The dark artist wondered why you kept this photo when it was so clear you didn’t want to be in it. 

The man must have forced you. Reprehensible; he’d never hold you back. 

He would set you free.

You should do something nice for her, Van Gogh. Show your good side for once!

The artist frowned and flipped to the next photo, where you played with a dog. A retriever?

“What would you suggest? I can’t exactly go out and buy her flowers.”

Right… maybe… uhh…

V rolled his eyes and looked at the final photo, where a childish version of you stood in a large group of children. A class photo? 

Oh, for heaven's sake! Cook something!

Ugh, cooking… he hated cooking. Some compared it to art, but why bother creating something if it will only be consumed moments later? Food lacked the lasting impact his paintings held.

It might still make a nice gesture, though..

He sighed and carefully set the stack of pictures back in your drawer. What would he even cook? Did you have ingredients? If only he had the freedom to visit a grocery store himself, but it wasn’t worth the risk. 

In the end, he found some pasta and vegetables. A pair of chicken breasts and a jar of sauce rounded out the meal. Simple, but enough to deliver the message. Truthfully, he was a bit excited to see your reaction. This might be the most normal thing the two of you ever shared; at the very least, it was so far.

He set the table and lowered the heat of the stovetop, keeping the meal warm until you returned. 

Now what?

There wasn’t time to figure it out, as the click of a key in the door signaled your arrival. The artist grinned and stirred the pasta, sending waves of savory scent wafting through the air. He hadn’t been this excited for something other than art for years.

“What the…” you murmured, stepping through the doorway with a weary look, shoulders drooping. 

“Welcome back,” V replied.

“You… did you cook?”

He smiled and nodded, gesturing at the spot he set for you. “A token of my gratitude, for all you’ve done for me.”

The corner of your lips twitched, a sound he couldn’t translate slipping through. He’d never seen your face with this expression, what were you thinking? Did you find his message? Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough, but he could try again soon enough. 

“Alright. I give up, this is too much.”

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag, striding toward the table and taking the indicated seat. Perplexed, the artist didn’t move. 

“You give up?”

“Yup. This can’t possibly be my life.”

That… is not the reaction I hoped for.

Chuckles bubbled from your throat as you stared at him, intensifying with each heartbeat. The artist’s heart warmed; he’d never heard you laugh like this before. Choking, holding your stomach and tears forming on your eyelashes. You’d never looked so lovely.

He smiled and took his own seat, the pasta forgotten on the stove. It didn’t matter, he’d rather enjoy your face right now. 

At long last, you managed to calm down, though an occasional snicker still broke through. Slim fingers wiped away the moisture leaking from your eyes, lips still twitching. “It’s insane, hehe, the hands responsible for what I saw tonight also made me dinner. It’s hehe, it’s goddamn surreal.”

With that, you broke down in giggles once again. Something about the sound of your laughter and the wide grin on your lips summoned snickers from V as well, and within moments his own chuckles mixed with yours. When was the last time he laughed, truly laughed?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered was the flickering joy in his heart.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[prolestariwrites]

Time To Go [3]: Fucking Vergil

Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: M Characters: Nero, Dante, Vergil, Kyrie, Nico, Trish, Morrison Tags: Mystery, Humor, Missing Person, First Time, Family Drama, Family Bonding, Post-Canon Chapter: 3/9 Chapter [1] [2]

Summary: When Kyrie goes missing, Nero goes on a desperate search to find her. Unfortunately, Dante and Vergil go too. Sparda boys shenanigans, fighting demons, a smattering of family drama, and male bonding (otherwise known as Nero’s worst nightmare). Please check it out below, or you can read on FFNet or AO3. Beta read by @copper-wasp.

Now posted! Chapter 3: Fucking Vergil, in which Vergil gets a hair cut and then tries to explain the birds and the bees to Nero.

━━━━━━━✧━━━━━━━

Nero’s hand flexes around the holster of his gun as they stand outside of Vergil’s apartment. It feels like every nerve in his body is tense and ready to spring, the coil growing tighter when Dante raps on the door.

“Who is it?” a voice calls from inside.

“It’s me,” Dante says. “Need to ask you about something.”

“No thanks.”

Nero curses and aims his foot at the door jamb, breaking it open with one powerful kick. A moment later he is standing next to Vergil, his revolver pointed at his temple. Vergil glances up from the book he is reading, and he grumbles as he leans forward to grab a bookmark from the table, not even flinching when the barrel presses against his skin. “I said, no thank you.”

“Where is she?” Nero seethes.

Vergil places the book on the table and sits back in his chair. “Where is who?”

“Kyrie. Where is she?”

Nero watches as Vergil glances over at Dante, who has pulled up a stool from the kitchen bar off to the side. The living room is decorated handsomely, if not a bit old fashioned, and Dante nearly knocks over a stained glass lamp as he perches on the seat, catching it just in time. “What is he talking about?” Vergil asks.

“His girl Kyrie is missing. Been gone since this morning.” Dante jerks his chin up. “He thinks you know something.”

Nero grits his teeth as Vergil turns to look at him. He holds the gun steady even though his other hand is trembling, and the barrel now points directly to his forehead. “Why would I know where she is?”

“Because a demon relative of mine took her,” Nero growls. “And the only person that could be is you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Nero cocks the hammer, the click feeling satisfying. “I’ll give you five seconds.”

Vergil gives him an angry look. “Dante, would you do something about this?”

“I told him it probably wasn’t you.”

“Four.”

Vergil whips around, and Nero pushes the gun against the side of his head. “Probably!” he snaps. “What do you mean, probably?”

Dante holds up his hands. “Hey, I defended you.”

“Three.”

“Some defense,” Vergil grumbles. “You probably made it worse. Get out of my apartment.”

“I didn’t even want to come!” 

“Two.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Dante gestures towards Nero. “His girl is missing. He’s a wreck. If I didn’t tag along he’d probably end up killing someone.”

Nero squeezes the trigger. The shot explodes in the room and he is knocked backward, not by the recoil, but because Vergil has him by the throat. Nero is thrown onto his back as Vergil climbs over him and pins him to the floor. His grip is firm, but not choking, and Nero struggles for a second before realizing he can’t break his hold. Vergil restrains the hand holding the gun to the ground by his forearm, slamming it hard to knock it away. “How dare you,” Vergil growls, and Nero looks up furiously, pleased to see the tips of his hair a bit singed from where he had dodged. “I just had a haircut, and let me tell you, it was not cheap.”

“Let him up, Vergil,” Dante sighs.

“No.” He slams Nero’s arm again, and a bolt of pain goes through his wrist, causing his grip to loosen. Vergil snatches the gun from his hand and straightens up, half sitting on Nero’s leg. “This isn’t a toy, you know,” he scolds, shaking the revolver in demonstration.

“I know you have her,” Nero says. His voice is tight with emotion, and having been so easily disarmed pisses him off. Vergil’s eyes narrow a bit, the ends creasing slightly, and Nero doesn’t know if it is in pity or concern or anger, and that pisses him off even more. 

Vergil presses his lips together and stands. “I don’t have her. I don’t know anything about this.” 

Nero sits up, leaning forward to catch his breath, his arms draped over his knees. The gun comes into view, and he looks up to see Vergil handing it back. He snatches it away, pressing the grip to his forehead now damp with sweat. “She’s gone,” he says harshly. “Kyrie is gone, someone took her and sent me a note not to look for her and…” His chest goes tight and his vision blurs, and Nero can feel his pulse racing. “If you don’t have her then I don’t know where else to look.”

He takes a minute to wait it out, refusing to let any pain or fear take over again. Every moment he spends focusing on that is a moment he’s not focusing on her. When he looks up, he sees Vergil studying him, and Dante looking on with what could best be called mild interest.

Vergil seems like he struggles to say something, until finally he asks, “Did you call the police?”

“They won’t do anything,” Nero mutters.

“Where is this note?”

He looks up at Vergil suspiciously, but the truth is, he is suddenly too tired to argue. Instead he pulls the note from his pocket and holds it up. Vergil takes it and opens the paper carefully, frowning as he reads. “Whoever it is could have been a bit more cryptic,” he mutters sarcastically.

“Any ideas?” Dante asks.

Vergil shakes his head. “Who told you it was a relative?”

“Empath.” Dante sighs. “She’s usually spot on with this stuff.”

Vergil considers for a moment. “And you’re sure she was kidnapped, and didn’t just leave?”

Nero growls and pushes to his feet before snatching back the note. “Yeah, I’m fucking sure. Kyrie wouldn’t ever do that.”

He scowls at Vergil, who gives him a patronizing look. “How can you be so sure? Because you are in love?” he laughs.

“Yeah,” Nero answers sharply. “That’s right.” He bristles, debating whether a punch to the jaw or another shot to the head would wipe that look off Vergil’s face when his cell phone rings suddenly.

Nero yanks it from his pocket, frowning in surprise at the number. “Yeah?” he answers.

“Nero? It’s Trish.”

“Yeah. This isn’t a good time—”

“It’s about Kyrie.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. Dante starts to ask but Nero waves them both away, turning so he can focus on the call. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. But Nico called me looking for Morrison and told me what happened. I have a contact in the demon world that might be able to help you out.”

Nero nods. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

“He frequents a bar out in Clear Point. It’s a three hour drive. Do you know it?”

“No. But I’ll go.” He glances back at the others. “What do you think he knows?”

“Everything. Anything. If someone in the demon world has Kyrie, he’d know.”

“Send me the address.” Nero ends the call and looks at the time. It’s half past nine, which means if he leaves now, he'll be there after midnight. “We gotta go,” he says to Dante.

“Sounds good.” Dante stands and stretches, then nods to Vergil. “You coming?”

“What? No,” Nero says at the same time Vergil replies, “Why would I go?”

Dante looks between them both. “Come on, Vergil. We could use another hand. Plus you look like you could use some fun.”

Vergil huffs a laugh, but Nero narrows his eyes. “Absolutely not. He’s not coming with us.”

━━━━━━━✧━━━━━━━

Vergil leans over the front console, his arms resting on the back of the seats. “I still don’t see why I couldn’t sit in the front.”

“‘Cause I called shotgun,” Dante grins. “You snooze, you lose, brother.”

Vergil snorts. “I’ve never lost at anything in my life.”

“Except to me.”

“Would you both shut it?” Nero snaps. “We still have plenty of miles left and I’m not listening to this the whole drive.”

Dante glances over. It would seem to a casual observer that Nero is just annoyed at them, but he can tell that the kid is tense. Dangerously tense. His hands grip the wheel of the van so tightly his knuckles are white, his arms and shoulders straining under his leather coat. His face is twisted into a deep scowl, his brows drawn deeply together. He would wager a guess that Nero is ready to snap at the first opportunity, and Dante wonders if they will even make it to the bar.

“What did Trish say again?” he asks.

Nero huffs. “Just what I told you. This guy knows what’s going on in the demon realm. He’ll have heard something if there’s something worth hearing.”

“Sounds suspicious to me,” Vergil says.

“Nobody asked you,” he mutters.

Dante looks back over his shoulder. “Why’s that?”

“The chance of a random demon knowing anything about Kyrie is slim to none,” he says. “He’s not even in the same city. How would he know what is going on in Fortuna?”

“Ah, you know demons,” Dante says. 

“I do, and this doesn’t make sense.” Vergil leans back. 

“You could always leave?” Nero suggests with a fake cheerfulness.

Vergil mutters something under his breath, but Dante glances over at Nero again. There is something that has been nagging him since he saw the note, and he figures now is as good a time as any to ask. He rubs his hand on his head for a second before asking, “How do you know Kyrie didn’t write that note?”

The van swerves for a second before Nero rights it. Dante grabs the overhead bar to steady himself as Vergil gives a shout from the back. “What the hell you doing?” he yells.

“Why would you even ask that?” Nero yells back. “Kyrie didn’t write it!”

“What happened with you two last night?” Dante asks. Nero’s shoulders stiffen and he leans a bit closer. “I can read you like a book, kid.”

“Nothing happened,” Nero hisses.

“Didja fight or something?”

“No.”

“She getting on your nerves?”

“No!”

Vergil leans forward again, his face popping into view between them. “Women are hardly worth the trouble. They’re either lying or picky as hell.”

“Fucking hell!” Nero pulls the van over to the side of the highway, stopping in the emergency parking. He yanks the gear shift into park so hard it looks like he could tear it off, and then turns to glare at the two brothers. “Both of you shut the hell up about Kyrie! She didn’t leave me and she didn’t write that letter and nothing happened!”

Dante’s brow draws down. “Nobody said nothing about her leaving you.”

“You did!” Nero argues. “You said she wrote it. That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” He throws out his hand and yells, “So what? You think she just took off and doesn’t want me looking for her?”

Vergil shrugs. “It’s a possibility.”

“No, it’s not.” Nero’s tone is dangerous as he hisses through gritted teeth, “The next person that says something like that about her is going to get my fist in their face, got it? Kyrie did not leave me.”

A tense silence fills the van for several moments. Then quietly, Dante says, “What happened?”

“Nothing! Nothing happened! Nothing…” Nero’s voice twists and he turns around to look out the front window. He pounds his fist on the steering wheel and bows his head. “We… we had sex. Okay? We did it and everything was fine. I thought everything was fine.” Dante winces as he watches Nero struggle to breathe, the air escaping him in a light whine. “She said she loved me. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do this.”

“First time, huh?” Dante asks.

Nero gives him a sharp look, but then he nods. “We were waiting. She said she wanted to wait, and I was cool with that, you know? She’s so good and beautiful and… look, I know I don’t deserve her. I know she could do way better than me.” Dante reaches out to give him a reassuring pat on the arm, but Nero shakes him off. “She loves me. She wouldn’t do this.”

The quiet is now uncomfortable, the only sound Nero’s sniffling, and Dante tries to think of what to say. But before he can impart some wisdom, Vergil asks, “Did you get her pregnant?”

“What? No!” Nero cries.

“How do you know?” prods Vergil. “Did you do it right?”

“Do it—what the hell are you talking about?”

Nero glares at him furiously but Vergil shrugs. “I thought that might be why she left. Maybe she doesn’t want a demon child.”

“She doesn’t care about that! And she’s not pregnant. We only did it once,” Nero says furiously.

Vergil gives a chuckle. “That’s all it takes. All it took for you anyway.”

Nero visibly recoils. “Oh my god.”

“I’m surprised Dante doesn’t have a dozen brats running around.” Vergil frowns at Dante, seeming to examine him, and Dante frowns back. “How did you manage to escape the plague that is fatherhood?”

“Well, I…” Dante clears his throat. “Lucky.”

Vergil slides up a bit more and eyes him suspiciously. “Have you even had sex before?”

“Loads of times,” Dante scoffs. “Women love me. Tell him, Nero,” he says, gesturing at the kid. “How much did Lir want me, hm? She was all over me.”

Nero makes a noise of disgust as Vergil snorts. “I’m sure that’s entirely true,” he says, his tone clear that he does not believe that one bit, before turning back to Nero. “You do realize that pleasuring a woman takes more than just some good looks and charm. There are certain places on the body that—”

“I’m not listening to this!” cries Nero.

“Women are delicate creatures but they also have different needs—”

“Would you shut up?”

Dante points to Vergil. “He’s got a point, you should listen.”

“This is my worst nightmare.”

“No, really,” Dante says seriously. “A girl’s first time, she’s gonna be skittish, right? That’s why you gotta put it in real slow, not go straight to pound town.”

Vergil nods. “That’s what I was saying, Dante. If you need some advice, Nero, then I can—”

“For! Fuck’s! Sake!” Nero looks back and forth at them with revulsion. “I don’t need any damn advice from you,” he snaps, pointing at Vergil. Then he points at Dante and growls, “Or you. And if you say that about Kyrie again I’ll rip your head off. You both got it?”

“Yeah,” Dante replies.

“We are just trying to help,” Vergil adds.

“I don’t need your help. And I really don’t fucking need to hear about sex from the two of you. Let’s just get to Clear Point. And nobody talk again. About anything. Ever.” Vergil gives an annoyed huff as he slides into the back again, and Nero throws the van into gear. Before pulling back onto the road, he glances at Dante. “Pound town? Are you twelve?”

“Just telling the truth, kid,” he chuckles, looking back out the window as the lights on the freeway slip by.

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Flower for His Thoughts (Part 2)

After meeting you at the book café Vergil learns that opening up to someone isn't so bad after all, as long as they are a remarkable woman who lets the flowers do the talking.

I would like to thank @drusoona for our chats that inspired this little scenario.💕 

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹

There is something about walking the city streets at night that seem otherworldly. Perhaps it was the lack of people milling about their day, the soft glow of moonlight shining upon the black asphalt of the streets, or the light breeze blowing through the buildings, whispering the sounds of the city for all to hear.

But for Vergil it is the fact that literal otherworldly creatures tend to roam these streets. And it was up to him and his brother to dispatch of them tonight. He is successful…but he underestimates one of the demon pests and now he is walking down the street, clutching his left arm where they got a lucky swipe at the Son of Sparda. He shrugs it off in the heat of moment, focusing all of his anger on his target, but now he is really feeling it. His demon lineage helps him bounce back from most wounds, but this one must be caustic since it has not quit burning. I should do better, he thought bitterly, beating himself up for not upholding the prowess expected from a kin of Sparda.

Flower for your thoughts?

Your voice enters his mind, a soft interlude in between his self-criticism. You always have a knack of distracting him from negative thoughts, almost as if you could read it on his face even though he does not show it. And it seems you no longer have to be there to distract him now. Vergil stops in his tracks, takes a deep breath, and stares up at the sky. His weary eyes gaze up at the stars, the gentle glow of the moon illuminating his silver irises as his thoughts turn to you, his new flower-loving acquaintance.

After that serendipitous day at the book café he keeps to his word and gives you back the umbrella the next time he meets you in his quiet corner. He remembers you smiling gratefully as you take it back, making that damn warmth pulse in his chest at the sight of it. That warmth drapes itself over his entire body as you present him a single orange rose with a tin of homemade orange spice tea, “a gift to celebrate our budding friendship” as you put it. Vergil could not help but feel touched, but also slightly annoyed that you once again blind sided him with your kindness.

That small orange rose is the first of many flowers he receives from you. Some flowers came with more tins of tea you made for him. A stem of blue wisteria with a vanilla lavender blend, two small balls of pink and purple hydrangeas with earl grey tea, and a cluster of dainty strawberry flowers with wild strawberry tea. Vergil lets out a soft chortle as he recalls that you did not technically give him the strawberry blossoms…you threw them in the air like confetti as you handed over the tin, exclaiming that he needs to “lose the glower and smell the flowers”. He quirks a bewildered brow at you as the barista comes over and berates you for throwing flowers in the shop…again. While you sheepishly apologize to them he kneels down and grabs one of the delicate blossoms, putting it with his new gift before you pick them all back up.

Vergil starts walking again as he continues to reminisce about your odd fixation on flowers. Technically, you have only personally given him four flowers accompanying your homemade tea. But sometimes when he pulls out one of his favorite books from the café shelves and cracks it open, a beautifully pressed flower falls into his lap. The first time it happens he just stares blankly at the delicately dried flower, curious about how it got there for only a second before he just knew it had to be you. It was then that he learns just how observant you are, knowing which books he likes so you can leave your tiny surprises. He wants to be annoyed by your actions…but instead he found himself secretly thinking it was adorable.

He only recognizes one of the hidden flowers, a yellow petunia with white edges circling its five petals, but the other two flowers are new to him. One is red with a pink ring around its four soft petals while the other reminds him of a daisy with its multiple tiny white petals, but he knew it was not a daisy…it seems to shimmer in the light, like it is coated in a light sheen of ice crystals. Even though he is slightly perplexed at your insistence of randomly gifting him with flowers he soon gets used to it, sometimes wondering to himself what the next flower given to him will be. The only thing he cannot fathom is why you do not give him the pressed ones personally.

Such odd behavior for my lovely rose.

Just as that thought enters his mind Vergil quickly shakes his head as if to jostle that notion out. He is not infatuated with you and you are not his to claim. That implies he needs you, and Vergil has never needed anyone…at least that what he tells himself as he grits his teeth to cope with the pain in his arm. This is just his attempt at sparking a normal friendship with a normal human.

And so far the friendship is successful in his opinion. Both of you talk about mutually favorite books, debate upon the meaning behind poems, and enjoy many cups of tea together. He is careful to stay away from subjects that might bring up any personal history. He would be lying if he said that he is not curious about what you do for a living. He guesses it has something to do with gardening. But he knew the social nicety would be asked of him as well and he honestly could not predict how you would react to him being a demon hunter and a recently restored Son of Sparda. And as much as he wants to try to open up he did not want to frighten you away from him. He would never confess aloud that he would miss your charming company, your unpredictable antics, your mellifluous voice…

Vergil grunts quietly as a renewed surge of pain shoots through his arm. He stops and carefully reaches inside his coat for the infuriating phone that Nero gave him. The usually bright screen is dark, just like it was an hour ago. He tries to turn it back on, finally relenting to the idea that he can at least get a ride back to the shop, but the phone refuses to turn on. He snarls in exasperation as he shoves the damned device back into his coat. There is always the Yamato, he thought as he examines his surroundings, trying to figure out which direction Devil May Cry is when it dawns on him that he is very close to your home. He ponders for a moment and figures out that he is currently behind your house, his keen eyes quickly spotting it despite the night sky.

Well, that confirms some of my assumptions of her, he surmises as he takes in the lush garden sprawling with vibrant plant life residing behind your home. Vergil admires your handy work, impressed by the variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees that you have managed to patiently nurture. His feet move of their own accord, taking a few long strides up to the gate barring the beautiful garden from the rest of the neighborhood. The air is heavy with the fragrance of flowers and fresh dirt.

The abrupt brightness from a light turning on and the creak of your back door knocks him out of his ruminations. You step through and close the door behind you, holding a small basket in your hand as you make your way towards a section of the garden. What kind of woman harvests fruit at night? he wonders as he watches you crouch down and begin picking something off of some brambles. Vergil suddenly feels agitated. The thought of you out in the middle of the night by yourself in a city known for random demon attacks sets him on edge. He has to fight the urge to march over there and scold you for your foolishness. I shouldn’t even be here, he thought, realizing he has no right to be angry at you and turns to walk away. I better depart before-

“Vergil? Is that you?”

His body reacts as if lightning came down and struck him right where he stands. How do I get myself out of this situation? he thought warily as he turns back to regard you. With one hand still holding the small basket of what appears to be an assortment of berries and the other gripping your pink floral skirt you head towards him. Your worn black flats gracefully glide through the resplendent flowers as your black satin camisole glitters in the moonlight. He has never seen you so casually dressed…and absolutely enchanting. For the first time in his hunting career it was not just the presence of demons that make the streets at night otherworldly.

Your eyes squint to make him out in the dark shadows of the street lights, and you must realize it is indeed him because your face breaks out into a captivating smile. That smile…Vergil could never figure out how to evade the ensnarement of that smile. Every time you flash that certain curve of your sweet lips he loses touch with reality and just wants to revel in its radiance. It is because of that smile and its affect on him that he did not notice you getting close enough to see his wound. That lovely smile fades as your eyes flicker with worry and you quicken your pace until you arrive at the gate.

“Oh no! Vergil…what happened?” you ask, voice full of concern.

Vergil glances down at his hand holding his injured arm and subtly turns his body so that it is not fully on display for your meandering eyes. “…it is nothing,” he states stoically, even though he knows fully well that it will not be enough for you to back down.

Your eyes narrow incredulously. “You have a gaping hole in your coat, which is covered in blood and…is that acid?! What the hell?”

Vergil’s eyes close as he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. There is no point in trying to hide it. You will just hound him until he inevitable snaps out of irritation. “I believe it is something akin to acid.” He opens his eyes and catches you trying to peek around his body. He shoots you a stern glare. “Stop fretting. It will heal…in due time.”

Your hip juts out as one hand rests on it, the basket of berries hanging limply from your other hand as you meet his eyes with your own serious expression. “It’s not going to heal without medical attention, Vergil.”

“Are you volunteering then?” he sneers, furious at himself for allowing this entire situation to happen.

You blink a few a times, mulling over your words before you answer. “And what if I am?”

He regards you silently as he went over his options. His wound is not healing, his communications device is dead, and you caught him in a vulnerable position, which really made his stomach churn. He hates this feeling, this whole encounter…but he did not want to make it worse by turning down your offer of assistance. So, he takes a deep breath and centers his mind, preparing himself to step out his comfort zone further than he has in long time.

“Then I…would be indebted to you.”

That radiant smile graces your lips once more. “Well then, come along inside and-” you abruptly cut yourself off as you peer down at his hand curiously. “…is that a katana?”

Vergil’s eyes dart over to Yamato before looking back at you. “Yes.”

“Huh…well, just don’t swing it around as we make our way through my garden. Wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of Flora now would we?” You point towards a statue in the center of a fountain as you open the gate for him.

“There’s no need to chide me…I’m not a blundering oaf.” As he shuffles through the gate he inspects the statue and spots the wreath of flowers in its gleaming hands, denoting it as the Roman goddess of flowers.

“I didn’t say you were…I’m just being overprotective.” You close the gate behind him and lead him through the garden towards the back door of your domicile. Vergil lets his eyes wonder around, noting all the various types of flowers you have tended patiently. The now familiar warmth flutters in his chest as it occurs to him that every single flower you have given him came from this garden.

You open the door and usher him in. “If it’s something corrosive then we need to flush your arm with water. The kitchen sink is over there…just remove your coat while I grab the first aid kit, just in case.”

Vergil dutifully follows your instructions as he takes in the cozy atmosphere of your kitchen. He spots a tea kettle steaming on the stove. The air smells of home cooked meals, citrus fruits, and…his nostrils flare as he breathes in and subconsciously detects your own intoxicating scent mingling with the distinct aroma. He places his coat on the countertop next to the pristine sink as you walk over and turn the knob labelled cold. You gesture for him to bend down and hold his arm under the running water. He does so, clenching his teeth as the wound stings a little under the cool rush of water. You stand next to him, opening a box and taking out a bottle and a sterilized cloth. Out of the corner of his eye he watches you stare at his arm, teeth nibbling your lower lip as you pour disinfectant onto the cloth.

“May I?” you inquire, holding up the cloth and reaching to turn off the water. Vergil gives you one firm nod, balling his fist up to help cope with the skin to skin contact. He has felt your skin before, lingering touches with his finger when he reaches for your gifts or hands over a recommended book, and you respond in kind when you bring over his drink order or return a book to him. It has become a silent comfortable custom between you two…he dare say it was borderline flirtatious. But this…is far more intimate and he just hopes he can keep it together while you hurry with your aid and be done with it.

You must somehow sense his hesitancy since you present him your open palm, letting him take his time bringing his arm to you. He is always amazed when you just know what is going on in his head…he always wants to ask what gave him away, but then he would be admitting that your instincts are correct. He loosens his fist and very carefully places his arm into your waiting hand. Your fingers squeeze his arm reassuringly before bring the cloth over and start cleaning his wound. He vaguely registers the bubbling sting of the disinfectant as his mind goes all the way back to a memory…his mother gently cleaning a scrape from rowdy play with his brother. He never felt more safe than under her care, but right now standing near you as your fingers gently hold him as you care for him…he feels that same sense of safety he has not felt for a long time.

“So…you’re a demon hunter?”

Your inquisitive voice breaks him away from his bittersweet memory as his icy eyes snap over to meet your gaze. He knew this would happen…that showing up bloody and bruised would arouse your suspensions. Vergil sullenly stands there in your space as he desperately tries to engrave your image in his mind, knowing that you could never want anything to do with him after all this.

“What?” you mutter, confusing his silence as shock. “We’re in a city notorious for its occasional demon outbreaks and you’re walking around at night carrying a huge sword. Now, unless you use that sword as a fancy cane during your late night strolls through the streets…you use it to cut down demons.”

A frustrated sigh escapes his lips. “Yes. I wield the Yamato and hunt demons.” His eyes glow with admonishment. “I do not use it as a cane...that’s just foolish.”

You grin and him give an understanding nod as your eyes check his arm. “Can I also presume that you work at that place…what is it called…Devils Say Die?”

Vergil chuckles softly at your total butchering of the name. “It’s Devil May Cry.”

“That’s right! So, do you?” The now bloody and dirty cloth leaves his arm as you reach for a wad of gauze. You begin to gently wrap his injury as you await his answer.

“Yes.”

“And you never mentioned this because…?”

“There was never a proper moment during our time together.”

“I see,” you muse as you finish wrapping his arm. “So…when was it going to be proper to reveal that exciting detail of your life?”

“Cease your pestering!” Vergil growls as he wrenches his arm out of your warm hand. “It’s maddening!”

You simply close your eyes and take a deep breath before looking back up at his agitated face. “I’m just trying to make conversation while helping a friend out,” you say serenely. “And you can’t blame me for being curious…its what friends do: talk about their lives so that they can understand each other.” Your lips form a sad half smile before turning your face away from him. “Maybe some tea will help you relax. Fighting demons must be stressful.” You step away from him and open a cabinet, taking out two tea cups with matching saucers. “Hope you like blackberries and mint.”

As he watches you approach the kettle on the stove Vergil feels this creeping sensation sprout in his chest and wrap around his heart. It squeezes tight as you take out a tin and scoop tea leaves into a couple of tea ball strainers. This feeling starts to sting as you pour steaming water into the saucers. The way your eyes glisten dolefully…he did not like it. Moreover, he did not like that it was he that made your velvety lips curve into a wilting smile. And what is even more ludicrous is his mind scrambling to figure out how to rectify this situation. Why should I? he thought, she’s being nosy and I'm right to demand you to stop. It makes no sense, but that didn’t cease the nagging feeling inside him to fix this. He wants to see that glorious smile again…He distantly registers your voice among his torrent of thoughts as you begin to speak again.

“Now…I know you always add a tiny bit of honey to your cup, but this tea is already a little sweet. So just give it a taste before-”

“I’m a hybrid.”

Your hand pauses over the tea cups as his words echo through the cozy kitchen. Vergil’s entire body freezes as his mind goes into overdrive. That was the last thing I wanted to say…so why in the blazes did I just blurt it out? How is that going to make her smile again? You turn your head to stare at him, confusion alight in your eyes as you slowly swivel your body and give him your full attention. It is clear that the full disclosure of his statement lost on you. Not one to mince words he strengthens his resolve to help you understand this revelation.

“My mother was a human and my father was a demon.” You jaw slacks as your eyes gloss over in contemplation…then they spark with realization and you let out a soft oh. All he could do was wait…it is insufferable. What are you waiting for? Kick me out already so we can be done with this and I can go bury the humiliation, he thought dejectedly. Instead, you gaze searchingly right into his eyes, straighten your body, and raise your chin as you calmly walk by him and flip a switch.

“Let me show you something…follow me, please.”

You leave a very confused devil standing in your kitchen as you open the door and walk out into the night. I just told her of my demonic nature…and she wants to go on a stroll through her garden? Vergil just stands there, wondering what strange and mysterious power you have that compels you to drive him mad. You must have noticed that he was not following because your head pokes through the door, glaring at him impatiently. He huffs and grabs the Yamato before going back out into your luxuriant garden.

“I don’t know much about demon hybrids, but I do know a lot about hybrid plants,” you state as you lead him through abundant flowers.

Vergil feels his brows furrow in puzzlement. “I fail to see how flowers relate to this subject matter.”

“That’s only because you’re not a gardener like me…here we are!”

He has never seen so many diverse roses teeming in one place until now. Red, yellow, white, pink, and other colors galore. Some are growing out of the ground and some are planted in pots. All are in various stages of bloom, and the air around him is filled with their signature perfume. You bring his attention to a specific section of the potted ones, which he notes are the most unique of them all. The colors are atypical for roses, some have two colors on their delicate petals. Vergil does not know much about flowers, but he surmises that it takes a lot of work to grow such magnificent flowers.

“All these pretty darlings are hybrids,” you inform him, your hands waving over the extraordinary flowers. “None of these are grown naturally. I have to cross pollinate two different roses, growing a seed that will sprout as a hybrid. You follow me?”

Vergil stares at you blankly. “Yes, I do indeed follow your chatter.”

“Good! Well, even though these roses are different…they are just as exquisite as all the other roses. And some have a unique color, pattern, or scent that puts them above and beyond all others…they’re positively divine.” Your brilliant smile breaks out, making his heart beat accelerate as you stare deeply into his eyes. “Vergil…you still fascinate me. You being a hybrid isn’t going to change that.”

That horrible stinging sensation around his heart vanishes as familiar warmth instantaneously floods back into his chest. His agitated expression relaxes as your words slip past his walls once more, stunning him to the point where he cannot even find the will to be annoyed. I didn’t scare her away…she accepts me, devil and all. His lips curve up into a soft smile as he basks in your compliment, silently thankful that such an oddly charming woman showers with him her lovely presence…and sometimes with actual flowers.

An endearing blush colors your cheeks and you tilt your head, eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before looking back up at him. You softly toss your hair off your shoulder as you glance over at roses. Your eyes suddenly sharpen as you step over to a section of roses. You bend down to pick a yellow rose and hold it out to him, presenting it with a sincere face.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get to know you better…but sometimes I can be a bit pushy.”

“Sometimes?” Vergil remarks wryly. You pooch your lower lip out, making a sad whine before you giggle quietly. He reaches out to take the rose, letting his hand rest atop yours. “There’s need to apologize…you didn’t mean any harm.” His thumb tenderly brushes your skin, mentally marveling at how such delicate hands manage to grow such beauty. “It’s just my tangled briars being particularly prickly.”

A delighted laugh rings through the night as your fingers subtly caress his hand. “Well, you may have noticed by now I’m a gardener, right? It’s safe to say that I’m used to thorns and I do have pretty thick skin.”

You invite him back inside your home and chat for a bit over tea. He discovers that you run an online business called Flower Showers, which he feels is very appropriate for you. You sell bouquets, flower arrangements, tea blends, and other floral based products that you make yourself. Vergil does not understand how people can buy flowers without a physical shop, but you tell him it that just works and that you do supply a few of the local shops in the city. You ask more questions about his work and he opens up a little bit, telling you about Devil May Cry and the abilities his lineage gifted him with. Self-confidence rises within him when he sees your eyes light up in wonder.

Eventually he has to take his leave. He collects his torn coat, his phone that you graciously charged for him, and a couple of books you let him borrow about various plants and flowers. You ask him when you will see him at the café, agreeing upon a time in a couple of days and wish him goodnight. Vergil walks back home in high spirits, letting his mind wonder before reeling it back in as he opens the door to Devil May Cry. He is greeted by his brother, Dante, leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk as he reads one of his numerous lecherous magazines.

“Hey! Been wondering where you were…your phone die again?” Dante asks nonchalantly as Vergil heads for the stairs.

“How kind of you to care, brother,” he sardonically retorts back at his little brother.

“You need to remember to-ooh…Looks like something took a bite outta you,” Dante observes as his eyes spot the ripped arm of his coat. He scans his older brother closer out of concern. “What the hell is that?” He points to redirect Vergil’s attention down to the Yamato. There is a small bundle of tiny flowers tied with twine around the middle of the Yamato, their bright blue color highlighting a small note among their petals. How did my clever rose accomplish that? he wonders as he hums in amusement before quickly remembering his company. Dante quirks an inquisitive eyebrow and Vergil glares at him menacingly.

He does not give his little brother a chance to pry as he swiftly goes up the stairs and straight to his room. He carefully removes the small flowers and opens the note. There are a series of numbers and a short message written in your dainty handwriting. It reads: Even though you just left I already can’t wait to see you again. Until then…

Forget-me-nots. He grins as he glosses over the titles of the books you let him borrow. One in particular catches his eye, When Flowers Speak: A Dictionary of Flowers and their Meanings, and that is when it suddenly dawns on him…what if all those flowers you gave him were trying to tell him something? He does not waste any time as he cracks open the book, softly twirling the forget-me-nots in his hand as he begins to decipher the messages you have been sending him all this time.

For the next couple days Vergil pours over your books, and he has discovered that you were indeed communicating through all the flowers you gave him. He feels impressed, flattered, and slightly miffed at his ineptitude in this subject matter, all at the same time. One thing is for certain…he now knows the reason behind you personally giving him some of the flowers and leaving the others for him to find.

The ones you gave him personally are messages that you were already forthcoming about. For example, an orange rose means fascination, which you have already made perfectly clear to him. Wisteria is given to express your affections after meeting someone special for the first time. Hydrangea flowers mean gracefulness and a desire to deeply understand the person your giving it to. Even the yellow rose, friendship and joy, is commonly given as a way of apology.

But the flowers he found pressed into his books…they secretly admit some of the thoughts you have not expressed aloud to him. The petunia tells him that his presence soothes you. That makes him feel relief that you are not putting on a strong front around him. The pink and red one, which is known as a clarkia flower, lets him know that the variety of conversations delight you. This makes the corners of mouth turn up in a fond smirk. And the one he thought looked like a daisy, but is in fact a ice plant flower says that his looks “freeze you,” which in more common terms of today…you found him strikingly handsome.

Vergil is glad that he was alone in his room when he read that because he can feel that warmth in his chest rise up to his cheeks, his heart beating rapidly like it did in your garden. And that…also made him irate that he did not even know you were sending him messages all this time. You really do drive him mad, and its then that he decides that two can play this game. The only question is…what kind of flower would you like? And what did he want to say to you?

He ponders this on his way to the book café, keeping a look out for a place that sells flowers or even some growing wildly in some open patches of land. Half of him admits that this whole situation is ridiculous, trying to convince himself to cease this foolishness. But the other half…he will not be secretly outdone by a charming woman that now occupies his thoughts often.

And so he searches until he comes upon a pot of flowers outside of a restaurant. He knows them to be snapdragons, a very unique looking flower. What made him stop was not the type of flower though…it was the soft white and pink petals. He has not memorized all the different meanings of all flowers quite yet, but he does remember the meaning behind this one…fascination and often given to remark upon a woman’s gracious nature. His eyes dart around to make sure no one witnesses him summon a sword and cuts a couple of them before resuming his walk towards the café to present his own gift of flowers.

The café door chimes as he steps into the familiar atmosphere of the café and when he sees you sitting in his usual corner, your lovely face instantly lighting up with that smile as you look up from your book…his bravado dwindles a bit as a flash of hesitancy shoots through him. But he presses onward, confidently striding right up to you as he holds the flowers behind his back.

Before you can greet him he swings his hand around and bestows his flowers, you eyes shining in surprise as you reach over to take them. He feels the urge to speak, but his mind draws a blank as you bring the flowers to your face to smell them. His eyelids droop as he witnesses your cheeks begin to the match the flowers, just like he knew they would. Your eyes slowly glance up and Vergil compels himself to say something…anything…

“They just…reminded me of you.”

Of all the things to say…that’s the best I can come up with? On the outside he kept his expression calm and reserved, but that did not speak for the inner turmoil swirling through his head. He awaits your reply, already reinforcing his walls so your words could not sting him.

“Thank you,” you mutter softly, that splendid smile that melts his heart spreading across your face. “They’re beautiful.”

Vergil thought this warmth he feels around would annoy him, but he has come to crave it as he lets it sift through his body. He finds it easier to smile when he is around you. And he does not even try to shake his fond thoughts as he finally acknowledges that he is utterly besotted with you, and does not mind that you have managed to go a little further among his briars.

Not as beautiful as you, my lovely rose.

Read Part 3 here.

Or read it on my Ao3

My Master List if you want more. ❤

[amethystaqua]

Of mugs and secrets (Or how Dante found out about your relationship with Vergil)

I finally finished after entire week of writing and editing! I never thought my first fanfic would be of 2223 words! I really hope you enjoy it! :D

The room was still dark as calmness reigned; the only sounds were the soft breathing on your ear of the man sleeping next to you. Vergil was spooning you, the warm feeling making a real struggle having to get up to start your day. You wiggle trying to move the least required, not wanting to disturb your boyfriend’s sleep, you almost made it, until he made some soft grunts. You froze fearing you might have woken him up, but he just turned to his side of the bed.

A smile found its way into your lips as you approached to kiss him ever so lightly on his mouth, then proceeding to leave the bedroom. You started to go through your day’s agenda in your head, the pendant paperwork waiting at work, visiting Nico to pick up your beloved, just repaired sword Polaris, and the appointment with a possible client. However, all your plans came to a halt the moment you notice a dark figure lying on the living room’s couch. Quietly you summon your spear Morgenstern out of thin air and approach the figure, looking around to see if something else was hiding in the shadows.

“Well now this is what I an exciting welcome (Y/N)” a sleepy familiar voice said making you jump out of the impression.

“My god… Dante! I was this close to stab you!”

“As you know, you wouldn’t be the only one sweetie” he sat on the couch while stretching his arms with an audible pop from his bones.

You met Dante when you were just a kid, with no family left, he rescued you from being a sacrifice for a greater demon since you were a Nephilim, however that seemed to be only the beginning of your problems. Demons appeared to be drawn to your blood like moths to a flame and thus, the week that you hadn’t been attacked by a demon, extremely uncommon. So instead of going to every orphanage or school you assisted to save you, Morrison decided it was for the best if Dante just adopted you. That way he could keep an eye on you, so no more civilians were put on danger, and also train you. Dante wasn’t in any sense qualified to adopting a little girl, but with your help (The motherly interventions of Lady and Trish, and some extra cash from Morrison) you two worked it out and in the process, perceived each other a bit like father and daughter.

“What on earth are you doing here?” you made Morgenstern disappear, heartbeat slowing down now that there was no real danger “And how did you get in?”

“Perks from my brand-new powers, and as for your first question… Let’s leave it I had kind of an emergency”

“Ok let’s review your concept of emergency” You leaned into him, taking carefully his face on your hands checking for any sings of cuts or bruises “does it involve injuries?”

“Not this time” he chuckled as you were still inspecting the rest of his body. After confirming the man was in one piece, you decided to head to the kitchen to start making breakfast with Dante following right behind you.

“An angry Trish or Lady?” you opened the fridge to start looking for the ingredients to make pancakes, you really stomach really needed some food now.

“Nah we just had drinks last week” he took a seat on the small kitchen table.

“Another powerful demon king about to be resurrected?” once you gathered everything you needed; you poured some flour along milk on the crystal bowl you took from the kitchen cabinet.

“Funny (Y/N) but no, not a demon, and somehow way more terrifying then one…Patty wants go out on a date with me” you almost dropped the egg you just grabbed for the batter, staring at him in disbelief on what he just said heard.

“Wait… so you broke into my apartment at” you looked at the clock next to the fridge “at 7:00 am just because you’re scared of a 19-year-old who wants a date with you?”

“I was coming back from a job! Morrison called me and he said a miss was waiting for me at DMC! Then I heard her voice on the phone! I’m not going anywhere with her when she’s faking a promise!”

“Dante…” Calm, take a deep breath you thought as you focused on inhaling deeply, he sure had a talent for making you lose your temper sometimes “are you serious? Both Morrison and I were there! I perfectly recall you saying when she’s turned old enough you would date her!

“Damn, so you’re saying she isn’t lying and I must keep my promise?”

“Yeah sure because I definitely want Patty to come on our already uncomfortable family dinners at Nero’s home” you answered sarcastically as you mixed the bowl’s ingredients “Just take her out to eat pizza or something, keep it as casual as possible so she doesn’t get her hopes up”

“Or... you could allow me to stay for a few days”

“Dante...”

“Please (Y/N) only 2 days!” he lifted up the chair and moved next to you “Just until she’s tired of stalking me!”

“Since you’re here not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“I knew I could count on you!” Dante said while lifting you off the ground, on really strong hug just like he has done all these years since you were a kid.

“Be quiet!” you whisper loudly, squirming a bit in his tight embrace “Vergil is still sleeping!”

“Wait, what’s Verge doing here?”  he dropped you while looking at you quite confused.

Oh, you just fucked up big this time… Dante was the only one who didn’t know about your relationship with Vergil. Unknowing of your past together when he was V, Dante’s father instincts awakened, as he warned you to stay away from Vergil, after noticing the constant glances you shared with his twin, fearing his brother got interested in you just because you were a Nephilim.

“He uh... went on a job yesterday, and uh he got poisoned by a demon so he needed someone to cure him!” That was the only excuse your sleepy brain was able to scheme in those few seconds, thinking Dante would buy it… then you remembered the eldest son of Sparda never asked for help.

“So, he decided to come here was the best idea?”

“Yeah” you tried to smile at him to look as convincing as possible.

“My brother looking for you to heal him?... All right never thought I’d see the day the dumbass put his pride aside and ask for help!”

“Heh… guess he still remembers one of the times I cured him when he was V” You sighed in relief, turning your attention on the coffee machine to prepare some, thinking you got away with your little lie until…

“But why he didn’t return to Devil May Cry?”

“I-it was really late and cold outside so I suggested he spent the night here “blush adorned your checks, once you realized the size of the stupidity you just said. “Al-also, I needed to be certain I cured the wound properly.

Dante just hummed and returned to his seat, whether he believed that poorly made answer or not, he didn’t say it. You were about to change topic, but were interrupted by a growling.

“Geez...” you couldn’t help but laugh lightly “I suppose you haven't eaten anything”

“Can’t lie at this point” You smiled at him. Once the coffee machine finished you poured some coffee on 3 cups that you placed on the counter. With all the noise, probably Vergil would join you both for breakfast.

“Stay right here, and don’t touch anything” you said as walking past beside him.

A shower was really much needed. You were already a bit late and didn’t want to waste more minutes, after all, you could always buy something to eat at work if you didn’t have time left. On the hallway to the bathroom you found the elder son of Sparda already got up.

“Oh, hi I thought you were still asleep” you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on his cheek “Didn’t want to wake you up”

“To whom I must thank for making Dante grace us with his presence this early in the morning?” his icy blue eyes showing an evident annoyance.

“That would be Patty… apparently the poor girl really wants a date with your brother to the point she’s waiting for him at Devil May Cry as we speak”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t justify why he’s here” a frown taking over his features.

“Well… “you played with a loose lock of your hair “Lady and Trish aren’t home, Nico still wants to bang him and I’m not letting that happen, and finally Nero made crystal clear last time I spoke to him, he wanted Dante at least 10 mts away from Kyrie and Credo” Your best friends had just had their beautiful son, the last thing Nero needed was having Dante in their house with Kyrie so delicate after her pregnancy.

“Hmpf still he isn’t staying here” Vergil crossed his arms, his answer just as you predicted.

“Please I can’t kick him out of the apartment just like that! I bet if you were the one in his…”

“I would never find myself in such a ridiculous situation like this”

“Right, forget what I just said” you said a bit ashamed while scratching your head.

“Even if I did unlike Dante, I could find a solution on my own”

“My point is! He needs help” you cupped his face in your hands “I know we had plans but come on, it’s going to be just a couple of days” you gave him the best puppy eyes you could.

It wasn’t as frequent as you wished for Vergil to stay in your apartment, between your jobs and the constant efforts to hide the truth to Dante. That’s why those days where two of you just sat on a couch to read, or did any other silly activity together, became so precious memories.

“I promise I’ll make it up for you when he leaves” you whispered in his ear face turning red with the possible implications.

He pushed you carefully against a wall lifting you face and grazing with his thumb your plump lips.

“You should not take promises so lightly my dear angel” you melted at his words, his lips mere inches from yours “I fear you may have acquired my brother’s demeanors”

“Have I ever broken my word before?”

An almost imperceptible smile, one only you got to recognize adorned his face as he claimed your mouth on a passionate kiss, that to your perception didn’t last enough. But you didn’t complain once Vergil separated from you, the risk of being caught by Dante was way too high.

“He’s in the kitchen” you cleared your throat, trying to control your small gasps for air.

“I expected no less” he fixed his hair and clothes, erasing any sings of the kiss you just had.

“Welp I’m going to shower now, not taking long” you passed beside him and closed the bathroom’s door only to open it a few seconds later “Vergil wait! Geez I almost forgot; I left some coffee for you and Dante on the kitchen counter. I’m pretty sure you’ll know which mug is yours since your favorite mug broke in our tiny accident a few nights ago”

You winked playfully at him, but he only limited to clicked his tongue in disapproval and directed to the kitchen. Once Nico knew about your relationship with Nero’s deadbeat father (as she always called him) the mechanic wasted no time to tease, giving you a little present: a white mug with big blue letters that read I’m your daddy for your boyfriend to use. Obviously, once Vergil found out the existence of the mug, the first thing he wanted was to toss it on a trash can, but you didn’t allow it being a gift from Nico.

While you showered the guilt took over you for hiding Dante about you and Vergil. Maybe it was time to tell him the truth, after all, didn’t he always wanted for his brother to embrace his humanity and live a somewhat normal life? You stepped out of the bathroom once you finished, so deep in these thoughts that it wasn’t until you were on your way to the kitchen, that you noticed how quiet the house was. At this point you were so used to whenever the twins were together their heated conversations escalated quickly to an argument that sometimes required a third-party intervention, so the silence was really unusual.

“Ok now, is it okay for you guys to eat pan…cakes...”

Your voice lowered the volume as you looked at the scene before your eyes. Vergil and Dante were staring fixedly at each other with a murderous gaze, each one with a hand around the infamous cup, now you knew the real reason for the unusual silence, Dante must have assumed the mug was his.

“So…” you laugh nervously “I guess the cat is out of the bag.

The end

[imagethat]

A Day With V | V x Reader Fluff

After the events of DMC5, V survives through the magic that the reader had. V x Wiccan reader. Based on my previous post about the house I headcanon V living in. Fluff~ (P.S. I don't know how to do the 'under the cut' thing, I don't have a computer. Sorry for the long post/^\)

Today was going to be a good day. The forecast predicted mostly sunny with a slight overcast. Morning rays dripped into the living room and kitchen as you went about your morning routine. Setting a kettle on the stove, you measured a precise amount of tea leaves to put into each cup. You had grown the flowers yourself and dried them with meticulous attention to detail, wanting each cup to be perfect. While you waited for the water to boil you went over to the couch and sprawled out to enjoy this peaceful moment in private with a book. It was one your roommate had recommend to you. It was of course very descriptive but slightly ambiguous. It had some undertones of romance too, which you couldn't help but wonder if that was his weird way of flirting with you. V was an odd and mysterious person. You knew of his past, where he came from, and of how you had saved him. The bond you shared during the Quipoths reign of tyranny was stronger than even the trees roots. But even at that, V still had a lot to learn and experience in his newfound life. You eagerly helped him at every step, starting with allowing him to stay with you. Dante had agreed to it simply because Vergil needed time to adjust to his new life as well, and having both posted up at Devil May Cry would've been awkward to say the least. You didn't mind his company, even enjoyed it. He was becoming a soothing presence in your everyday life. As your thoughts drifted off, you didn't notice V come out of his room. He turned the stove off because the water was boiling, poured you two both a cup of tea, then took a seat beside you. "Today looks like it'll be lovely, how are you faring?" He questioned and you smiled gratefully while taking the tea. "I'm doing good, and you?" You asked in return. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. You had opened the windows earlier to let fresh air in and lit a nicely scented candle. You didn't need V to speak to know he was enjoying the moment. While the two of you enjoyed your cups of tea in silence, you pondered what you'd do today. Each day you tried to experience something new with V, to help familiarize him with the world. It's been two months since the Quipoth broke Red Grave but you wouldn't even be able to tell with how tranquil it seemed right now. You hadn't gotten V much clothes since then. Just a few spare outfits from Dante and Nero. Before you could ask if he'd like to go shopping though he spoke up. "This tea is quite good, I think your skills are improving. Though, I think it could benefit from something to balance its sweetness." He commented and you nodded. "Tomorrow we can bake something to go with our tea if you'd like." You offered and he nodded softly, his black hair flowing with the movement of his head. "That'd be wonderful, please do let me do the measuring though." He replied with a teasing little smirk which made you scrunch your nose at him while crossing your arms childishly. After a short while in silence once more you got up. "I'm going to go get ready, you should too." You said. "Where might you be taking me today?" He questioned, with slight excitement in his eyes. "We should probably get you some clothes that are suitable for someone of your caliber." You teased and pretended to bow. He chuckled which you internally blushed at. His voice was deep and could make you flush a deep red without warning. After taking a shower and dressing for the weather you were ready. V was already at the kitchen counter waiting for you by the time you were done. You gave one final check to make sure you had everything before departing. While getting ready you had put some thought into the stores you wanted to go to, trying your best to choose places you thought V would like. If you were honest, it was a bit hard to tell what his fashion sense was. You knew his choice of clothes previously was simply because they were all he could find after being split from Vergil and since then he'd never gotten the chance to choose his own clothes. Fall was starting to change the trees. Leaves made satisfying crunching noises beneath your feet as the two of you walked together. You were too distracted with your thoughts to notice V's eyes lingering on you. He enjoyed the way you seemed to put extra effort into stepping on the fallen leaves. You reached your first destination, which was a mall. Originally you thought he wouldn't enjoy the crowds, but the mall just had so many different types of clothes to offer. Plus you could stop by a bookstore there as well. V seemed to walk closer to you when inside, keeping his head down. He was uninterested in speaking to others, but it was hard not for people to look at him. He was tall and anyone would be lying if they said he wasn't gorgeous. Somewhat to your disappointment as well was the fact that he didn't seem interested in too many of the shops either. And you had to put in a little extra effort to get him to go into any of them. V isn't very frivolous per se, seeking out comfortable and functional clothes over the most fashionable types. When you passed by the bookstore though, he took your hand and practically dragged you in. A testament to how much enjoyed the comfort of a good book. You were okay with this and enjoyed seeing him so happy. The way he got completely lost in the pages or how he'd excitedly explain the synopsis of a book to you never failed to capture your heart. But after a few hours you felt it important to remind him of today's goal. "I think we've spent long enough here, we should go look somewhere else." You said softly, being respectful of the other customers, especially the ones reading. He gave you a sad look, pleading to you with his eyes. "Just a little longer, please?" He asked while placing a hand on top of yours. You couldn't help it, giving into staying for a little while longer. After another hour you brought up leaving once again. "I'll get you that book you're holding, but only if we can leave now." You offered and he seemed to contemplate the offer before agreeing. "We can go to the library tomorrow." You added to cheer him up a little. On the walk to your next destination he continued to read, and multiple times you had to make sure he didn't bump into anything. He could be a real dork sometimes honestly. You decided to go to a thrift store as your second destination, simply because the prices would be more reasonable and there would be a wide range of items. You hoped he could find some decorations for his room too, really wanting to make your apartment as home-y as possible. You left him to look at the clothes while you searched through the stores CD rack. Since the CD's were so cheap, you got into the habit of just buying whatever seemed interesting. Though, you left V a little to long as he found his way to the book section. Much to your suprise though, he had a few items of clothing picked out. "Do you ever think of anything besides reading?" You teased. "Well," he pondered before looking down at you, "I suppose you cross my mind every now and then." He mused and you just rolled your eyes before taking a look at the clothes he had chosen out. A few simple T-shirts, some pull over sweaters, and some jeans. Underneath the clothes though you found an interesting quill pen and inkwell. It looked old so he probably wouldn't be writing with it but it would look nice on his book shelf. You smiled softly before returning his items to the small carry around cart. "Well Mr. Poetry, are you ready to go?" You teased, using the name Dante usually called V. You sorta wanted to have V choose out a real name for himself, and you would have no problems if he preferred V, but you hadn't asked yet. "Hmmm. I suppose so." He responded, clearly half submerged mentally in the book he was holding. You stowed away your thoughts and nudged him slightly to remind him that you were leaving. After paying for everything you hummed softly. "Is there anything else you need? We still have time to go to another shop." You offered and V nodded no. "You've been kind enough already. I am very grateful." He replied. You two promptly started your journey back home after that. Once you got back you put the clothes V got from the thrift store into the washer and started preparing for dinner. When V returned from his room, he was wearing a T-shirt and a comfy pair of sweatpants. Looking grateful that he no longer had to wear the heavy leather jacket around the house as a top. You admittedly found it weird to see him in such normal clothes but cute at the same time. He cleared his throat, you didn't realize you were staring until he did. You muttered sorry and continued what you were doing. He let Griffon and Shadow free. Griffon found a comfy spot on the counter where he was perfectly set to pester you while Shadow curled up on the couch. "Jesus, you think of V all day but what about me? I'm gonna get stiff if I ever sit that long again." The bird hissed out and you rolled your eyes at how overly dramatic he was being. "Would you prefer I feed you to the demons?" You questioned. "Whatever, I'm sure V would appreciate that. Give you two some alone time if you know what I mean." He shot back. You glanced at the man on the couch who had a hand rested idly on Shadows head. He didn't seem to acknowledge the birds comment. "Oh curious are we?" Griffon asked and you gave him a soft tch. "Curious about the way our chicken should be served tonight." To which it was Griffons turn to reply with tch. The night went on without interruption after that, Shadow sitting at your feet trying to get a scrap of food when dinner was served even though she was well strong enough to just take your food. After dinner you cared for the plants and cleansed the space while V continued to read on the couch. His mind really didn't leave his books. You were fine staying friends with the dark gentleman who was always in your presence but you wouldn't deny you wanted more too. Maybe he just needed more time though. The world was so new to him. V called it a night early and left you in the company of Shadow. After you finished with your work you sat down on the couch and petted her head softly. You always loved when it was quiet like this. The moon would be full soon, so watching it rise above the skyline was a treat. It bathed the world in such an ethereal glow. You recalled your times as a kid when you'd sneak into the forest during the full moon. Your parents were heavily against your Wiccan identity and sought to derail it in any way possible. Even if that meant putting a lock on every window and door in the house. You had always felt more connected to the earth and moon than others growing up. Your dreams were mysterious, often speaking to you of the future. Later in life you learned they were not just dreams, but actual demons who you communed with nightly. At the age of 15 you ran away from your home. Something whispered to you in the night, telling you that you'd find yourself in Red Grave. That's how you met Dante, and your demon hunting slash Wiccan healing days began. It hurt to run away, you knew in your heart your parents just wanted the best for you but if you had never ran away you probably wouldn't have been as happy as you are now. You had found your own family, one that accepted you. Nero and Nico playing their music so loud, they had to yell when they bickered. Dante being a lovable train wreck. Shopping with Lady and Trish. Chatting with Vergil about music and nature. Most of all the company of your roommate V. "Are you alright?" His voice was soft but it startled you. So buried in your own thoughts for the second time today, you didn't hear V come out of his room. You didn't realize you were crying either. In a attempt to hide that fact, you quickly rubbed your cheeks. "O-oh yeah! I'm great!" You lied, but your voice betrayed you. V left you for a moment, only to return with a blanket from his room which he draped over your shoulders. He made his way into the kitchen and came back with a cup of hot cocoa. He sat down next to you and fidgeted with his fingers. Trying his best to think of something to say. You spoke up first though. "Thanks… I was just… Well, you know how I am. I sorta get lost in my own head sometimes." You muttered. "I'm fine though, I promise." You quickly added. The moonlight seeping in through the window made him more beautiful. You didn't know that was even possible. The white glow bounced off his pale skin, and his green eyes seemed even deeper before the moon. "If we are going to reminisce about the past, then… I'd like to thank you." He said, you tilted your head softly. "I didn't know it was possible to feel such comfort in the presence of another. Nor did I think I'd be lucky enough to experience life the way I have with you." He continued. "I'm eternally grateful for all that you've done. If you should ever need anything, please let me know." V glanced towards you, and even with the soft lighting that you two were in you could tell he was serious. If you weren't tired from the crying you wouldn't have done this, but the fog from your emotions blurred out your reasoning. You leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder muttering thanks softly before your eyes closed. V tensed for a second. He wasn't yet used to physical contact, but he always enjoyed your hugs. He wrapped an arm around you in return and rested his hand gently on your head. Softly he began humming a melody, which lulled you to sleep. V only stopped after he felt your breathing even out and he was assured you had fallen asleep. Griffon internally teased V about it mercilessly after that, but maybe… just maybe V was starting to feel something for you. Or maybe he always had. He wasn't sure, but nonetheless, he admitted he cared for you deeply on that night.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Run Away from Your Problems Chapter 7

Nero x reader

Summary: Dante and Nero have a little heart to heart.

Word Count: 912

Nero woke slowly, enjoying the feeling of having a person next to him in bed for the first time in months. It served as proof that he hadn’t imagined the interaction the night before and comforted the anxiety that lurked in the back of his mind. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Y/N lying sprawled across him. Of course right about then was when his bladder started vying for his attention, so he had to pry himself away from the captivating view to his displeasure.

She blinked bleary eyes up at him once he got to his feet. “Where’re you goin’?”

Were he the kind of guy to start cooing over cute things, he would have definitely done so at the way she was looking up at him. “Bathroom. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Go back to sleep.” He tried to keep his voice low and calming so she wouldn’t fully wake. After she nodded and finished adjusting to replace him with his pillow as the object of her cuddling arms, Nero bent down to kiss her cheek.

On his way back from the bathroom, he heard some rustling downstairs that mildly concerned him. A glance at the clock told him it was far too early for anyone but him or Y/N to be up and around which only furthered his worry. While trying to fight back the instinctive wariness, Nero carefully crept down the stairs to investigate. And was promptly floored that it was, in fact, Dante of all people down there. The surprise must have been clear on his face given the way the man barked a laugh upon looking at him.

“What the hell are you doing up?”

“That would be the months of getting used to no sleep. Honestly, I’m surprised Vergil’s still down for the count.” He glanced down at the hardcopy spreadsheets on his desk. “She’s really whipped this place into shape, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nero sighed, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t gone on a job since you left.”

“Really?”

“She says she has to stay here to keep everything running.”

“That sounds like you don’t believe her.”

“You’re her partner, and you weren’t here. I don’t think she could bring herself to go back into the field without you. She . . . didn’t handle it well when we told her you were gone, but she’d finally started accepting that you might not come back. Was even planning to hire a manager to run everything.”

“Is that resentment I hear?”

“You hurt her when you left, Dante. You’re one of her best friends, and you just left without saying goodbye. I don’t care if you were sleeping together or not; if anything, that should’ve made you more likely to pick up the fucking phone before just up and bailing ass to literal Hell.”

There was silence as Dante took in that information. “I know,” he said slowly. “I have to talk to her about that later. That’s between us, though.” Nero didn’t like the look of the smirk that started spreading across Dante’s face. “Right now, I think I should be bugging you about where you stand with her.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, old man.”

“I say it is since I don’t want you fucking with her head. She’s spent too much time pining for your sorry ass.”

Nero’s pale brows furrowed at that. “Huh?”

Dante chuckled in disbelief. “You really don’t know?”

“Listen, I don’t need your shit, Dante. There wasn’t even anything between us until last night--”

“Kid, she’s been hung up on you for years,” his uncle cut him off.

“ . . . What?”

Dante sighed and muttered, “She’s gonna kill me for telling you this,” while dragging a hand down his face. “She’s had a thing for you since you guys were kids, but she knew you liked Kyrie. She bit back her feelings and supported you until you guys got together. And even though she loved you as her best friend, too, she couldn’t just sit there and watch you two fall in love with each other. The look on her face when you and Kyrie kissed that first time . . . I could see her heart breaking. That’s why I offered for her to come with me. Sitting around being someone’s second choice ain’t fucking healthy.”

“But you guys--”

“That was a stress relief thing. Fun but no feelings. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t tell you all that because I’m jealous or to make you feel bad or whatever. I told you so you’d realize how serious this is for her.”

It was Nero’s turn to be silent for a few minutes. “I think I’ve always known . . . And I think I’ve felt the same for a while. I was just too scared to give up what I already had.”

Dante nodded sagely, a strange thing to see given his normally . . . excessive demeanor. “Good.”

Nero scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward being around someone that apparently knew so much more than he did about the emotional state of the woman he’d known since he was a child. The intimidation surrounding the fact that his uncle knew more about the intricacies of her more intimate preferences didn’t help, either. “Uh . . . Thanks, Dante. I’d, uh, better get back upstairs before she comes looking for me.”

“Take care of her, Nero.”

He waved a hand as if swatting a fly as he started up the steps. “Yeah, yeah.”

[ac-liveblogs]

(Probably) controversial opinion time: I don’t like that Vergil was Nero’s dad. 

i don’t like, think it’s an inherent flaw in the games or anything, but i’m just... not a fan.

In 4

Okay, so you’re telling me... 

Agnus somehow found the Yamato (and knew what it was) and enough of Nelo Angelo’s body to start using it to mass produce demons...

The Order of the Sword was doing actual human experimentation to turn humans into demons...

Worshipped Sparda to the point of wanting to recreate him in the form of the Saviour...

AND they needed someone of Sparda’s blood to activate their dumb giga statue...

...and the best idea 4 could come up with for Nero’s inexplicable ties to the Sparda lineage was him being VERGIL’S SON? There was no other way to spin that? None at all?

Setting aside that the most unbelievable thing this franchise could ask me to believe is that Vergil somehow got laid, it’s kind of the most boring way to resolve Nero’s secret backstory and seems pretty odd when you cobble together all the facts about the Order’s goals and what they’ve been doing to achieve them. 

I know 4 was rushed out the gate and they didn’t get time to expand on things, but Nero being an Order lab rat seems a bit more solid than “conveniently, he just happened to live here when we needed him.”

also, we seriously missed out on speciesist vergil having to deal with his precious sword choosing to obey a human playing at being a demon? come on, that would’ve been hilarious. i feel there’s a thread here that could’ve been followed about vergil’s insistence that humans are weak being eskewed by a human nero.

IN 5

When I say 5 didn’t quite stick the landing on it’s ending, I’m referring to Vergil and Nero’s relationship almost exclusively. 

So... spoilers, obviously. About Vergil. And V. 

Vergil is deeply traumatised. He wants other people to care about him but is incapable of reaching out until literally pushed to the absolute brink as his weakest possible self. (re: VoV)

“I wanted to be protected, and loved. But I was alone, and I had to survive.” is one hell of a zinger.

V is... basically a good person, but he still pulls in Nero as a backup plan for Urizen by lying to him and essentially manipulating him. However, all this requires one thing of V: putting his trust in a complete stranger. He quite literally relies on Nero to care about him and protect him, and it’s pretty obvious V cares about Nero by the time it comes to merge with Urizen. 

By osmosis, so does Vergil. “Thank you, Nero,” said sincerely to the man he’d previously mutilated without a second thought, a man to which he (apparently) had no familial relations (or looked like his dead mom) and by all rights SHOULD have just been a puppet. After merging, Vergil clobbers Dante but doesn’t touch Nero at all.

Also, Nero cares about V.

So, (V)ergil made a friend by accident. Amazing. What a great step to breaking past part of his trauma. Let’s now completely undercut it by telling Nero Vergil’s his dad and immediately switching Nero’s priorities from “V is my friend what the hell” to “my father and uncle killing each other would be really fucked up.”

Suddenly, Vergil doesn’t have a friend willing to protect him - he has a son that, as his family, feels obligated to stop him and Dante in equal measure. Which the game spells out for you.

This also means that Vergil, who is shackled by his past, cannot make a new, fresh connection and is still chained down by his mistakes.

It feels like Vergil stopped just short of actually making a fully fledged step into recovery by snatching the little progress he had made and twisting into an obligation on both party’s sides rather than a choice. The game doubles down on it Vergil being Nero’s dad (an abstract concept) being the important part more than any fondness he might have had for V (a person he actually knows). It just... feels like Vergil missed out on accomplishing something more significant by a hair.

And, like... the zinger being that this twist didn’t actually benefit either character. Nero being Vergil’s son feels like the lazy solution to a question they didn’t get time to answer in 4, and Vergil being Nero’s dad feels like denying Vergil the chance to move away from his past and create something completely new.

the game obviously still functions fine with this, it’s not a dealbreaker in any way. i just don’t think it was even a little necessary and both characters would probably be a bit better off without it. 

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 42: Malignancy

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Forty-Two: Malignancy

Note: This chapter is late, but ironically because I decided to add 2.6K more words to it at the last minute. It was done. I just had no self-control and simply had to show you a glimpse of what’s to come! No point in saving it until next week! I’m inspired NOW!

(-~-)

Softly, in the distance, there was a subtle thumping, so light and indistinguishable that it was perceivably a dream. Some barely lucid receptor in the innermost recesses of his mind had managed to pick up on the faint whisper of a sound, and now he found himself gradually approaching consciousness, resentful, but otherwise unable to deny the fact that there was indeed a knocking sound. Slowly but surely, it became more prominent, and then it was followed by an even stranger sound. A barely audible creaking that he struggled to identify the source of. It seemed that in this state, thinking was beyond him.

Clicking followed after it, at first miles away, and then very near. It was rhythmic and steady, unhurried in its pace. In fact, it was just that: there was a pace at all. Perhaps the sound of a heel upon hardwood? Regardless, it was accompanied by two more sets of similar sounds, one too soft to clearly hear, and another thudding heavily with not a single care shown towards the possibility of causing a disturbance.

But just before he could get a clearer idea of what might be going on with his surroundings, it occurred to him that he wasn’t entirely sure why he couldn’t see anything. After all, in order to see, all he needed to do was open his eyes, right? So why wouldn’t his body cooperate with him and allow him to do just that? Perhaps there was something more at play here. And as if the universe itself had heard his thoughts, a voice suddenly spoke.

“Hey Magnolia… is he… you know...?”

There was a shuffle as though someone had either stood or adjusted their stance. And then a second voice spoke, this one much more recognizably feminine than the last. Well, at least from what he could tell. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could trust his senses to help him form an accurate opinion of anything right now. 

“Fret not love, he’s simply asleep. Said he was having a hard time doing that as of late, so I fixed him a tonic and mixed a little into some tea. He’s, um… been like this ever since. I’m sure he’s fine, though. Never met anyone tougher.”

“Oh, he’s “sleeping”? That’s what he’s doing. Yea. Got it. Glad we cleared that up.”

Entirely sure that he recognized that first voice, he finally managed to get at least one muscle in his body to respond to his attempts to move. And then slowly each ligament and joint in his body released itself from the vice-like hold that he had been under and he was able to move what he thought was his right foot. And then his leg. But to be honest, he wasn’t even sure that it was the same leg that the foot he was able to move to was attached to. What a sorry state he was in.

“Well, I think it might have worked a bit too well for my tastes. But it’s gonna take quite a bit more than that to put him in the grave. We both know that. But I don’t think it matters much now. I think he’s finally waking up.”

“You’ve got a point… Bottle some of that for me? I might need it for something in the future. You never know when it comes to my dear big brother.”

Now he recognized both of those voices clearly. It was Magnolia and Dante. Yes, how could he ever forget his brother’s voice. He must have been completely out of it. Opening his eyes, he was only slightly alarmed when he realized that Lucia was in the room with them as well. That did explain the third set of shoes he’d heard, and it made sense that she would still be accompanying Dante. She was his guest, after all, and they were well acquainted. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to how much of a departure she was from his other companions. Much too intellectual and skilled to be one of his brother’s companions. She was quite the outlier indeed. But he appreciated a change in personality, especially one that he might actually be willing to tolerate speaking to.

“Welcome back to the waking world, sunshine,” Magnolia said with a bright smile, her messy hair hanging in her face as she bent over and purposefully got in his personal space. He moved back slightly after she pulled away, realizing several seconds after that that his reaction had been quite delayed. It seemed that his brain and his muscles were catching up, but had not quite met in the middle just yet.

“Never give me that again. I have no idea what you put in that tea, but it is entirely too potent.” Vergil seemed genuinely disheveled, not at all his normally well-put-together self. She stood up shakily and adjusted his shoulders, apparently slightly stiff from lying halfway on the floor in a kneeling position with his face down on the bed. Understandable. 

As soon as he collected himself, he pointed towards Dante, a slightly shaky but otherwise serious look on his face. He clearly disapproved of his younger twin’s statement. Under absolutely no circumstances was he going to allow Dante’s request to come to fruition. “And do not give him any of it, either. He will absolutely abuse that power. I should know.” 

“Like you wouldn’t? I haven't forgotten what you just did earlier this year. We grew up in the same house, Vergil. We're twins. I know you better than you think I do.” Dante chuckled slightly, shrugging and allowing his arms to fall against his sides with an audible flop. If Vergil meant to imply that either of them should be trusted with something like that concoction that Magnolia had, then he was sorely mistaken. But at least Dante wasn’t in denial about it. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter right now. We have bigger problems. Much bigger problems.”

Magnolia nodded and went to sit in the chair next to the door. She didn’t exactly feel the need to keep standing in the middle of the room uselessly or too close up under Vergil. Invading his personal space for extended periods of time was a fantastically bad idea. It was like punching a snake in the mouth, except even more likely to end with you dead. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But either way, he’s right. You need to get up. There’s kind of a… situation. If you wanna call it that.”

Vergil looked at both of them for a moment, unsure of what could be going on. After all, he was relatively certain that the Ludwig estate was one of the safer places that they could be. Nothing was going to get in here that they didn’t want in here, especially demons. No demon in its right mind would even bother with attacking a place like this. There were simply far too many powerful witches that could end their lives to contend with. A quick glance at Lucia revealed that she seemed uncomfortable, perhaps worried. He was unaccustomed to seeing such a look on her face. That by itself told him that something more substantial was going on. 

Wait a moment. Where was everyone else? Magnolia had been here already, but Dante and Lucia were alone. Where were… 

And then he felt it. The sinking sensation that he had felt on several occasions as of late when something simply wasn’t right. He had felt it when his two intrepid sons had ventured to Fortuna castle, when they had gone into the wilderness and falling right into the hands of the very people they had been trying to avoid, and most recently, when V had disappeared with Sirrus a few days ago and nearly bled to death on the front walk of that grocery store. More had happened while he was unconscious than he realized, and he needed to know what was going on. Now. 

“Where are they?” The hostility in that statement was apparent. He wasn’t even going to attempt to dismiss or conceal how obviously alarmed he was. Vergil didn’t care. For once, he would love for his younger brother to tell him that his assumption was incorrect, but he knew deep down that he was right. It was just something that he felt deep within himself. While he had been indisposed, something had changed drastically. And this time, he couldn’t tell which one of them it was. He had to know where they were right now, and no one in this building who wanted to live was going to stand between him and that goal if they had any self-preservation instincts.

Lucia, Magnolia, and Dante exchanged looks before Lucia pointed towards the door, unsure of what else to really do in a situation like this. She was certain that his eyes had just turned red for a moment, and he seemed like he was in quite the hurry. She was more than smart enough to know not to get in his way. If she wasn’t, she probably wouldn’t still be here. “From what we know, in the tower upstairs. It’s around the-.”

Before she could say anything further, a gust of air blew through the room, and the door slammed shut. Vergil was nowhere to be seen. Lucia blinked, still processing the fact that he could move that quickly. She’d seen him fight, so it wasn’t new information in that regard, but the idea that he could just rocket out of a room like that if he wanted to, and that he could then teleport on top of that and possessed a sword that could open portals to new locations… just how did anyone get the drop on someone like that? Had anyone ever actually managed to do it before?

A glance over at Magnolia and Dante told her that this wasn’t the kind of reaction that he normally had to something like this. The plucky botanist seemed visibly worried, and Dante seemed to be considering something. Quietly. Yes, something wasn’t right about this. “What are you thinking, Dante?”

He turned slightly towards the door and then looked over his shoulder at her. His expression was hard to read, but his brow was furrowed slightly, and he had folded his arms over his chest. He nodded at Magnolia who then jogged out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Lucia didn’t have the slightest idea where she was going, but one could only wonder. Dante then turned back towards her and gestured towards the door with a tilt of his head. “I’m thinking I need to figure out where this tower is before Vergil reduces this entire building to a pile of rubble and stylish bricks. We need to get going. At least we know where he’s going.”

(-~-)

The barrier of darkness that had once obscured his gaze had parted slowly, nearly suffocating him as he attempted to press forward. For a moment, he considered turning back, genuinely unable to tell if he was making any progress or just slowly killing himself in an attempt to reach a destination with dubious beneficial applications to his overall situation. His lungs strained for the oxygen that this seemingly never-ending doorway couldn’t provide, and just as he was going to start quietly panicking and trying to figure out which direction he had just come from, he tumbled forward into an open space.

V panted heavily as his lungs took in too much air in far too small of a window of time, his chest burning and his muscled strained. He was aware of the fact that he was just laying on the floor in a strange room in front of god knew who, but he honestly didn’t care. The discomfort was all-encompassing. All he could concentrate on at that moment was making the extraordinary amount of tension and pain he felt go away.

“Hey pall, you alright? You seem pretty messed up. Wanna take it easy for a second? I’m pretty sure you almost passed out.” Griffon asked, seemingly alarmed from within the deeper confines of his subconscious. He clearly wasn’t in a good way, and the wiley demonic bird had a front-row seat to his predicament. He imagined that Shadow would voice her concerns as well if she were capable of speaking.

It made perfect sense to him that he should respond to Griffon, but in truth, he just couldn’t. His brain couldn’t string together that many vowels and syllables in the state that he was in. He would get back to his familiar the moment that he was able to think clearly enough to actually communicate with him. For now, he was just grateful that the wave of discomfort he wrote was starting to let up enough for him to breathe better. For a short stint of time, he was certain that it never would.

A hand suddenly touched him, rested upon his shoulder before shaking him gently. He hadn’t noticed until that moment that his eyes were closed. He’d probably shut them instinctively when he’d hit the floor in pain a few moments ago. Well, he hoped that was the case. The alternative was too frightening for him to fathom, and he had no way of properly quantifying the negative effect that considering that outcome made him feel. He wasn’t sure what he would do in a situation like that. It scared him beyond words.

Upon opening his eyes, he realized that he was in a mostly dark room with no visible windows. Black curtains hung along the walls, and a wide array of candles in different shapes and sizes covered just about every available surface. They were all dark in color, ranging from purples and blues, to grays and blacks, something that he would actually probably find aesthetically pleasing if not for the fact that he was still in a measurable amount of discomfort. But at least he was sitting up now and would be able to stand in a moment. He just needed to get his bearings. 

Nero looked at his brother for a moment, concern evident on his face. The young summoner had slumped over on him and was breathing heavily, but at least some of the color had returned to his face and he didn’t have that dim, half-there look in his eyes anymore. V was going to be just fine. That much he was sure of. Unfortunately, he’d been through much worse before. He then turned his attention to Aluta, admittedly quite miffed by the entire situation. What on earth had just happened?

“Look… I know you're trying to help us out, but what the hell was that all about?! He looked like he was going to pass out! What’s up with that door?!”

Aluta stared at Nero blankly for a moment before sitting down and shrugging slightly, an expression somewhere between a cringe and an uncomfortable sneer on her face. She twirled her fingers around in her hair for a tense moment, looking towards the window that she couldn’t see out of. One could only imagine that she was trying to avoid this topic of conversation. It seemed that she was still reeling from his reaction.

Seemingly realizing how that statement might have come off, Nero sighed and, standing up so that he could help steady V and get him to his feet. As soon as he was on his feet again, Nero turned his attention back to Aluta, realizing that he probably could have phrased that better even if that was what he had actually meant.

“Hey um… Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I get that you're just trying to help.”

“Please. Don’t. Your point is valid.” She stood up and nodded in recognition before walking over to them and ushering V towards the table. Nero followed closely behind, eager to keep an eye on his older sibling. “Now then, the problem at hand.”

Gesturing towards the chair that sat in front of the table, she sat, allowing V to do so just across from her. She then took his arm and looked it over, a troubled look on her face that sent chills down his spine. That was the kind of expression he expected to see on the face of a doctor who was diagnosing someone with cancer or informing someone that their loved one had just passed away. No good could come of this.

“That spell is a safeguard. It keeps malevolent forces at bay. It was a test to prove my initial assumption, and unfortunately, I am correct. I do so hate it when that happens.” She ran her finger down the vein in V’s arm, causing him to jerk away as he felt a sort of cold burn race down his arm. His appendage went numb for a moment before the feeling returned, leaving him concerned. He looked at her quietly, waiting for her to elaborate further. “I recognize Belial’s taint anywhere. Your brother is infested with it. And by the looks of it, he’s been exposed multiple times directly through blood. That strengthens the Devil Prince’s hold on him considerably. I may be able to slow it down but… ”

V paled slightly and went rigid. He remembered being wounded by Belial just a few days ago. In truth, he was still ever so slightly sore from it, and had yet to regain the energy his body had spent on putting him back together afterward. He combed this recesses of his mind, trying to think of another occasion where he had come in contact with some remnant of Belial’s corruption, but he couldn’t think of anything. His only other run-in with something he had to do with was the cult and whatever they had been trying to accomplish with that knife…

And then it hit him like a freight train full of led. The conduit. 

He’d fallen into the liquid corruption that had enveloped it. Some of that had to have contained a part of Belial’s essence, and it had. Had he been exposed to it for this long without knowing it? Was that why he had felt so drained for so very long? And if that was the case, why had the Prince of Darkness decided to play his cards now? V felt as though knowing might actually make it worse.

I’m to assume that’s bad, am I not?” V said softly, barely at an audible volume. Yes. It was. He knew that much without being answered. Whatever Belial had done to him was spreading like a virus with intentions both beyond his control and his understanding. He was almost afraid to ask what his reasons could be for doing something like this. Something told him that death was the better option.

While he pondered this, suddenly the door to the room slammed open and into the wall, nearly shattering it and snapping it off of the hinges. The room quivered from the sheer kinetic energy that had passed from the now heavily damaged door to the wall behind it, the windows on the opposite side of the room rattling slightly. There surely had to be a hole in the wall from that, even if the tower was made from brick. Needless to say that no one was surprised when the dust in the room that had shaken loose settled and Vergil stood before them, absolutely blistering with chaotic, enraging energy. He looked as though he were only a few short seconds away from ending the life of some poor unfortunate soul. Probably because he actually was.

“Aluta Ludwig.” He said, the fringes of his demonic power echoing from the depths of his voice, adding a furious edge to his introduction. His eyes were glowing bright red, and his hand was brushing against the edge of Yamato’s handle, ready to draw it if necessary. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

She looked at him quietly for a moment, seemingly pondering her next move. She then stood up and put her hands on her hips, clearly unmoved by his display of unadulterated fury. Nero looked at both of them and then down at V, clearly concerned as to where this was going. Neither of them wanted to break up this fight… 

“You’ve got some nerve, don’t you? I could ask you the very same. You’ve ruined a perfectly good door, is what you’ve done! Now I’ll have to call a mason.” She said, shaking her head in disapproval before sitting back down in a huff. “I suspect I don’t need to repeat myself. You probably heard most of that before you invited yourself in?”

Vergil removed his hand from Yamato’s hilt before tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes. When he slowly opened them again, he stared at her blankly, the furry having dissipated slightly, but the intent to murder at a moment’s notice if necessary clearly still at the forefront of his consciousness. “I did.”

Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back towards V and away from Vergil, content with her odds of not garnering any further negative attention from him. He could see her now, and that meant that he could see what she was doing. If she was willing to guess, the dark magic she had used to secure the doorway for her little assessment of V’s status had probably set him off. It was understandable even if his reaction had been questionable.

“Fortunately, that depends, child. It feeds on negative thoughts and despair, much like Belial himself. The more you dwell on it, the worse it becomes. Though that is admittedly difficult to counteract when you think about it. Not trying to dwell on the fact that you are infested with malignant, malevolent magic doesn’t tend to help your mental state.” She leaned over, looking V in the face with a distant but sympathetic look as she took his hands into hers, shaking them gently as if to add emphasis to what she planned to say. He was too revolted by his predicament to really register his almost instinctual negative reaction to being touched. “As for his reasons for doing so… I can only imagine that he is trying to weaken you. To wear you down until he can offer you an ultimatum of some sort. He enjoys his games. He is an eternal being. The time it would take to win a war of attrition with you would be but the span of a blink in his domain. And no deal that he has ever offered would do you any good. My guess is that he wishes to possess you. To add you to his collection of fascinations. For what purpose, I cannot say. But that is more than likely the fate he has in mind for you.”

Nero looked over at V, subconsciously approaching the back of his chair and standing next to him. He allowed his hand to rest on his shoulder, giving him a subtle but sympathetic look as his eyes softened slightly. V peered up at him for a moment, seemingly fine with the contact. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, clearly needing the reasurment. Unfortunately, they were both sure that they got where she was going with this… 

“You can’t stop this, can you?” V asked quietly, unsure of what else to say. He knew that he couldn’t, especially alone. He’d faced him before and barely escaped with his life. What hope did he have of getting away with something like that a second time, especially if he was growing weaker and weaker by the moment? Stopping someone that powerful would probably end his life, and he wasn’t eager to do that again. But if he did nothing, then he was damned regardless. There was no winning, was there?

“Sirrus was wounded as well. Why isn’t he showing any of the same symptoms?” Vergil asked, clearly somewhat intrigued but more displeased than anything else. It wasn’t so much that he wished this fate upon the Adjudicator in place of his son, but it didn’t make sense to him how V could be so ensnared by Belial’s trap, but Sirrus could remain largely unaffected. What was this foolishness?

“Because he’s a-” She paused, catching herself before she could say more than she needed to. “Forgive me. I cannot speak on this. His kind do not succumb to these sorts of things. He has a natural deterrent. His blood rejects such corruption as a part of his biology. He is fortunate, indeed. Did you catch all of that, Vergil, or are your ears still ringing from what you did to my door?”

Vergil narrowed his eyes, unamused. “I did.”

“Good. You need to take your sons somewhere outside of his realm of influence. Much like this manner is. That will slow the speed of his corruptive power significantly.” She gestured towards V, giving him a firm but caring look. “And you need to rest. There is no way to cure this aside from the death of the Devil Prince himself, so there is little I can offer of use aside from attempting to slow things down in your favor and obscuring his gaze upon you. But aside from that…”

Vergil nodded, turning away from them and towards the door. He stopped for a moment, looking back over his shoulder at both of his sons. He then placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door in a manner so slow and deliberate that it seemed as though it took him actual effort to not damage it. Not that he could do much worse to it or the wall attached to it than he already did. had. The wood was split and the bricks were noticeably cracked. There was no changing that outside of some spell they probably had that could maybe reverse the damage.

“Then he will have to die.”

Realizing that the door was a lost cause, he unsheathed Yamato slashed the air with it, forming a cross shape that then parted and allowed him to step through into the unknown. It then closed, leaving the trio staring at the spot where he had previously been. None of them had the slightest idea where he was now, but they hoped that it wasn’t where they thought he had gone.

Moments later the half-closed door slammed open again, noticeably softer this time. It did little to halt the damage done, however, as the door hit the food with a thud, taking part of the door frame and a good number of bricks with it as it slammed uselessly into the floor. Lucia stood just behind Dante, looking at the damage with more than a slight bit of horror as Dante stepped over it and into the room, seemingly noting it but realizing that he hadn’t done the majority of it. His entrance had simply been the last straw. Vergil had definitely been here.

“Hey, um… sorry about the door. What’s going on? Where’s Vergil?” He asked almost sheepishly. Something told the youngest Son of Sparda that he had come at an extremely bad time. Lucia simply closed her eyes and shook her head at the sight of the damage. Dante was a walking small claims court case if she had ever seen one.

Aluta leaned her face into both of her outstretched hands, rubbing her eyes as she shook her head. How had she managed to get herself into this predicament? Things had been so simple just a half-hour ago. “... You have some serious catching up to do.”

(-~-)

I don’t know why, but Aluta implying that Vergil might have given himself Tinnitus sent me. This was a longer chapter, which was why it was late. I started writing the last 1200 words today, and then I just kept going. Hopefully, it felt more substantial, and it answered some of your burning questions. Remember when I said I loved what I was setting up with this ark? This is what I meant! Finally, I get to reveal some of the things I set in motion over fifty chapters ago! Nothing but exciting times ahead, let me tell you!

 Let me know what you think in the comments, and have a wonderful weekend!

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 19: Informative

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Nineteen: Informative 

Note: Sorry for any lingering mistakes. I wrote this entirely on my phone during a road trip with a friend so that it would be done on time. It’s just been one of those busy weeks, you know? Anyway, sorry for any mistakes. I tried my best to spell-check it, but still.

(-~-)

Deciding to leave when they did had been perhaps the smartest thing they could have done, given the circumstances. As if on cue, the weather had taken an abrupt turn for the worst, a thick fog rolling in from the north that threatened to obscure their vision and keep them trapped where they were. The chilly air that it brought with it wasn't so much unpleasant as it was unexpected as the day had been warm for the season up until then.

Leaving their father and uncle to sort out things on their own was a no-brainer this time around. Normally they would take steps to make sure that their father didn't murder Dante, but this time they just couldn't be bothered. Someone had to convince Lucia and Sirrus that they were not a family of savage idiots that only moved to harm one another. Though in Lucia's case, she had probably come to some conclusion in regards to that long before they had met her. She and Dante we're old friends after all.

As they opened the front door to the office and headed towards the van, V stopped for a moment. Despite its abnormal timing, the cool air was a welcome respite from the weather in Lucia's homeland this time of year. It had been humid and got there, quite literally the polar opposite of the kind of weather that he tended to gravitate towards. No, he liked it just like this. A cool breeze and some optional rain or fog. He'll, even some snow was preferable to the humid nightmare that was the more tropical corner of the world that they had just vacated. He didn't even have the right type of clothes for that sort of place, and much like his younger sibling, he didn't exactly tan. That was entirely enough for him.

Just as he stepped towards the lower part of the stairs, a hand reached out and tapped him in the shoulder, taking him entirely off guard. Turning to face whoever had just touched him, he couldn't help but allow his confusion to become evident on his face. It was rare that other members of the team touched him, and it was even rarer that his father so much as came near another person at all, let alone made physical contact with them. And no, using Yamato to impale or otherwise harm them didn't count. What strange Lovecraftian nightmare was this?

Turning to face him fully, V gave him a perplexed look, unsure as to what this could be about. He'd never really seen Vergil make… whatever the face was that he was making at the moment. He seemed almost amused, and that wasn't an emotion that he could honestly say he'd ever really been able to associate with his father. While he was aware that he did, in fact, possess a sense of humor, he couldn’t say that he fully understood it or was able to accurately guess what he might actually find entertaining. But he'd clearly done something that the older devil slayer found at least somewhat amusing, so that was a place to start.

"Did you need something?" V asked calmly, unsure as to how to take this sudden shift in his father's generally calm and somewhat cold persona. He was used to Vergil being more… predictable. And right now, he was anything but that. Despite the fact that he knew this didn’t pose a threat of any sort to him, he just couldn’t shake the strange, insidious feeling that he felt brewing in the very pit of his stomach. It was as if a knot that he couldn’t untangle had manifested within the very depths of his core, and he couldn’t place its location any more than he could understand its underlying cause.

Giving him an almost knowing look, Vergil glanced momentarily in Lucia's general direction, his eyes lingering on her for a moment as he seemed to quietly consider something. V had to turn in her direction to see that his father was even looking at her in the first place since his back was to the van and he was facing the large office doors that Vergil had decided to lean against. After a moment, the Darkslayer crossed his arms, looking at his son with a slightly more serious look than he had possessed a moment ago. It seemed that whatever he’d been thinking, he was about to actually express in words.

"... I've noticed that you seem to have feelings for that girl. Dante's friend. Were you planning to act upon them, or simply pine fruitlessly from a safe distance." Vergil inquired calmly, his slightly humored demeanor resurfacing slightly as he seemed to make a consorted effort to actually hide it. He clearly found something about this very entertaining, but he wasn't going to say as much. At least not at the moment. 

V's entire mental process instantly stalled like an overheating car engine. He genuinely regretted the fact that he had not just taken the opportunity to leave and head to the van with the others when he had the chance. Were they actually having this conversation right now? Because it sure as hell seemed like they were. And did this even count as a conversation? Normally it required at least two people for a conversation to take place, and he couldn't will himself to speak a single word. Vergil took that opportunity to continue.

"Because if that was indeed your plan of action, I feel somewhat inclined to point out that it would get you nowhere. Inaction normally has that effect. I would be remiss to not take the opportunity to remind you of that, regardless of the fact that you are intelligent enough to have figured that out for yourself by now." He continued nonchalantly, either not noticing the slightly wide eyes, pupal dilated, utterly flabbergasted expression, or shear and unadulterated horror on his eldest son's normally neutral face or genuinely not caring. Either way, that wasn’t going to stop him from making his opinion on the matter known, regardless of how much he was sure his son probably wanted it to.

The young white-haired summoner attempted to force his brain to conjure up some meaningful response to what would otherwise be a simple inquire for his father, but the mixture of confusion and horror that he found himself in was entirely too strong to allow for that level of cognitive function. How had his father even noticed that? Was it that obvious? Was he actually that bad at hiding his thoughts? In truth, he wasn't entirely sure as to whether or not his absentminded meandering in regards to Lucia was the result of the fact that he found her undeniably lovely, or something more than that, but the fact that Vergil could tell that he felt anything towards her at all was admittedly startling to him. What if Lucia had noticed as well. He didn't want her getting any sort of incorrect notions as to his intentions, especially when he didn't fully understand what his intentions were in the first place.

"Wh… why would you ask me something like that?" V asked breathlessly, unsure as to what else he could even say about the matter. This entire situation was highly irregular. Or was it? Did fathers normally question their sons about matters that pertained to their love life, especially when those sons were adults? Truthfully, V didn't have any prior knowledge as to the legitimacy of that fact. He'd never had any friends to ask or even see this happen to, and it had never been a thought that had crossed his mind. But one thing that he did know was that this was an exceedingly uncomfortable topic of conversation, and every second that he took part in it, willing or unwilling (and it was most certainly unwilling), he could feel himself die inside, aging little by little until he lost all cognitive function and simply ceased to exist any longer.

Seemingly slightly confused as to his son's reaction, Vergil folded his arms and blinked slowly for a moment. Yes, it seemed that V absolutely had no idea what he was getting at, did he? The eldest Son of Sparda liked to think that he had a pretty good line in gauging others’ reactions and body language in regards to trying to find out if they were being truthful or deceptive, and he couldn’t say that he thought that his son was lying. If anything, he seemed genuinely shocked that he had asked him a question of this sort, and Vergil was both further amused and slightly confused by his son's intense mental backpedaling. Was this topic of conversation really that horrifying to him? Because that would explain quite a bit about V's overall reaction to it.

"Perhaps because I noticed that you invited her to your home. And your total inability to stop looking at her with that lost expression or your face or so much as form a complete sentence in her presence. There are several factors at play here. Do not insult my intelligence. I am not blind." Vergil paused for a moment, noticing the fact that V seemed both physically and mentally exhausted by the very concept of having this conversation. Was his oldest child absorbing even a monochrome of the wisdom that he was trying to impart upon him? "And I am willing to imagine that she is not blind, either. It would be a miracle if she hadn't at least clued into your affections for her by this point. It might be best to simply tell her. If you can get your brain to function in her presence for that long, that is. And I have my doubts."

If he had been a slight bit less physically sick from the conversation that he was taking part in at that moment, he probably would have been somewhat insulted by that comment. But instead, he just nodded involuntarily, his subconscious eager to produce some sort of meaningful reaction to his father's advice. He wasn't really sure if it had achieved the desired result, or simply served to make him look even less intelligent than he was willing to assume he probably looked at the moment, but he couldn't make himself dwell on that long enough to care, even though he knew that he should.

"Thank you?" V said in an unsure tone, entirely unsure as to what he was supposed to say in this situation. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of this situation as quickly as possible, and that the others were waiting for him in the van. His absence was probably starting to seem slightly suspicious, and the last thing he wanted to do was have to explain why his father had held him up for this long. "We are absolutely not having this conversation right now, father. We have to go, and I am holding up the others. I must go before they began to question what is taking me so long."

As he glanced towards the van, he felt the need to add something before. "By the way… please don't say anything to her on my behalf until I figure out how to produce. I beag of you. I need time to think, and I would probably die from pure mortification alone."

Vergil looked somewhat frustrated by that statement. "That is not biologically possible. Dying from embarrassment isn't something that you can physically do. And you tend to take longer than they do to arrive at a destination as it currently stands regardless, V. But very well." Vergil cringed internally as he saw the somewhat questioning look on V's face. Sometimes his eloquent thoughts did not translate well to actual spoken dialogue, especially in regards to situations where he wasn't actually trying to sound like a petulant unfeeling cold bastard. And yet, here he was, doing just that yet again. Was this an involuntary action on his part?

The younger man stared at him for a momnet, almost physically combing through his thoughts as he tried to come up with a satisfactory reassessment of himself. Did he actually walk that slow? He liked to think that he didn't. While he was aware that he did in fact walk at a speed that was lacking when compared to the rest of his compartiots, he didn't think that it was that slow. Did the others notice and simply not point it out to him out of a sense of politeness, and his father was the only one who actually had the never to point it out to him? Because now that he thought about it, that was entirely possible. They were all generally quite kind to him, even when making fun of him as Nico liked to do from time to time. But Vergil didn't possess such qualms.

"Disregard my former statement. It was not entirely factual." Vergil sighed, turning to look back through the door that he was behind before looking forwards again. "I would advise you to seek Nero's consol in regards to these sorts of matters. You’re clearly not going to take in anything meaningful that I am trying to imprint upon you, and he has at least made it a bit farther in that regard than you have at present. I may simply be out of touch. According to Dante, I'm "old."

For a moment, V stared at his father. A sympathetic look crossed his face as he considered the ramifications of that statement, and the strange sorrow in his father's tone of voice as he spoke those words. He couldn't be entirely sure as to why, but it seemed that his father genuinely didn't like being considered older. Perhaps it was simply a result of the narrative that he might be out of touch, or something as profound as being a personification of the deep regret that he probably felt in regards to the things that he could no longer experience. His youth was indeed gone, along with the opportunities unique to it, but somehow he knew that this wasn't about that. The younger man had literally no way to know for sure without asking his father, and that was off the table at the moment. But what he did know was that he might be able to say or do something, anything to help.

Reaching out with a mixture of reluctance and uncertainty, V placed his hand on Vergil's shoulder. He admittedly expected him to pull away it react in anger in some way, but he decided to take the risk regardless. After all, he was unlikely to physically harm him over the gesture, and he was used to being rejected in regards to this sort of thing. But to his surprise, all his father did was give him a curious look, allowing his gaze to wander up to his arm, following the thin limb up to his fingers until he seemed to mentally register that V had indeed just voluntarily touched him. He then looked back at V quietly, seemingly unsure of what to really say about the matter at hand.

"... You’re not old. At least I don't think so. I'd like to imagine you still have quite a bit of life left in you. It’s a mindset more than it is a physical condition, at least as far as I am concend. But it’s not my place to say that. You can believe whatever it is that you want to believe. You've earned that right a few times over by this point." He turned back towards the van, taking a reluctant step down the first step as he released his father’s shoulder and allowed the limp appendage to fall back toward his side. "I have to leave now. If you are both still alive come morning, please make your way over. It may be easier to make whatever preparation you wish to make in a place with power. And running water, for that matter. Something tells me that you might not have that, either. Dante seems to fail to pay his utility bills in batches. But until then, have a good night. And please… never bring this topic of conversation up again."

While he understood why his father had done so, he was somewhat sure that he rather die than allow his father to give him "the talk". It was a horrifying concept that literally aged him to the point where he lost years of his life, and he never wanted to revisit it again. He had no idea what had possessed his normally quiet father to make him even r=bring this up instead of watching in the background like he would like to assume he did, but he hoped that whatever that force of nature was, it left and never returned. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy speaking to his father, it was that this was far from the topics of conversation that he felt comfortable discussing with literally anyone else aside from the person they were directed towards, and even the, that was a stretch.

Vergil nodded in regards to his son's words. While he was not sure yet if he would humor his request or press the issue, he would leave it alone. He allowed his hand to drift almost absentmindedly to the place where his son's hand had been only a minute ago, letting it linger there momentarily as he watched the van pull off down the street and around the corner, disappearing from sight. He was now starting to wonder if he had been somewhat mistaken in regards to which of his sons was actually the intelligent one. Or perhaps they were just equally unintelligent in regards to romance. But he had to assume that there was a certain charm to that, even it if was somewhat pathetic in nature. But that was enough of that for now. He had tried. 

Now to see to maters with Dante. And he had a feeling that there would be a reckoning store for him.

(-~-)

Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of V dying inside because his dad just tried to bring up his love life in a conversation with him. Poor thing! And we thought that Dante not having power was bad… see you all next week on Wednesday! I hope you liked this chapter! Bye bye!

[zenithlux]

Cadence - CH 21

Catch up on the story here!

And the voice is so clear, time after time it keeps on Calling you, calling you on Don’t destroy what you see, your country to be Just keep building on the ground that’s been won

Father to Son - Queen

 -----------

The first thing Vergil did was track down Nero.

Or, more accurately, he paced in front of Roxy’s apartment pondering what exactly he wanted to say to Nero. 

It was midnight by the time they got home, and 12:15 when Vergil got Roxy to actually go to sleep and not wander around in an exhausted stupor. The drive back had been about an hour slower, but significantly more enjoyable. The two had managed to hold a near constant conversation about nearly everything they could think of. Even Vergil, who had tried to ignore the truth for who knows how long now, felt the shift in their relationship. Before, they were balancing that line between ‘casual friends’ and ‘something more’. Now, he was fairly certain they were plummeting right off to one side.

Neither had broached the subject, however, so in Vergil’s mind they were still falling into nowhere, destined to figure it out another time. 

What they had discussed, however, was what Roxy dubbed the ‘Nero situation’. 

It had taken Vergil much of the trip to bring up the matter, even though it had gnawed at his mind since the middle of their walk. He’d thought that meeting Roxy’s mother would provide more insight into Roxy herself. And while it most certainly had, he also got a rather uncomfortable view of himself. Roxy’s mother was exactly what he had almost become; a broken mind in a failing body. The difference was, she had gone to an assisted living home. He had tried to destroy the planet.

Easy comparison to make. Clearly.

So when he did finally ask what he’d been dreading since they left, he made certain it was during the only peaceful, silent moment they’d had during the entire trip. Because that was clearly the best way to discuss such an uncomfortable subject. “If your mother could come back, and if she wanted to, would you let her?”

Roxy had been silent at first, giving Vergil his first real taste of anxiety. But then, her response had surprised him. “Your situation with Nero is much different than mine with my mother.” And Vergil, knowing he’d been caught, had asked her to elaborate. “You want and are capable of rebuilding that relationship now,” she said. “I’m not sure my mother ever will be.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“But I don’t know what all is going on between you two,” She argued. “But let's say my mom was perfectly sane and everything could go back to normal… then..” She paused with a sigh. “I’d want an apology.”

“You think that would fix decades of mistakes?”

“Not on its own… but it would help.”

So there Vergil was, debating how to apologize for raising the Qliphoth tree, ripping Nero’s arm off, and abandoning him for over twenty years.

But just as he finally went to knock, the door swung open. Then, Vergil was met with a scowl from his fully dressed and not at all sleeping son. “How long are you going to stand out there?” Nero said as he rubbed at his blood shot eyes. “You’re lucky Nico’s not awake or she would’ve been terrified.”

Vergil blinked. “What?”

“The shadow under the door-frame,” Nero said. “Real fucking creepy if you don’t know who it is.”

“I… see.” 

Nero stepped out and closed the door behind him. “Come on, old man. There’s a 24-hour coffee shop nearby.” Vergil glanced at the door of his apartment and heard Nero snort behind him. “If I can leave Nico by herself, you can leave Roxy with her dragon familiar for thirty-minutes.” He swung Red Queen onto his back as he wandered down the hallway. And after a moment, where Vergil just stared at the doorway wondering if he was doing the right thing, he followed after Nero with as much confidence as he could muster. 

 -----------

Dream Bean was a small, hidden away coffee shop that Vergil never would have found if he wasn’t explicitly looking for it. It was the only building open on the street with the front door tucked in an alleyway near the edge of the town’s limits. Even more surprising was the interior. While Vergil would never want to live in the place with its pale greens, blues, and numerous pictures of sunflowers scattered everywhere, he could imagine spending a work day or two with Roxy in one of the absurdly padded booths in the far back corner. The area was spacious and, after a quick order from the single barista, he quickly found himself at a two person table on the second floor looking over the empty street. By now, however, all the tension he’d felt had transferred to Nero who was now tapping his straw on the table. 

“So,” Nero said before he cleared his throat and tried again. “What did you want to talk about?”

His hesitation was almost as quick as his recovery. “Maybe I was just checking on you.”

Nero snorted. “Nobody says that unless they actually had something to say.” The straw slipped from his fingers and shot across the room in a rather impressive display. Nero grimaced as he reached for a second one. “So spill it.”

This time, Vergil’s hesitation was both obvious and uncomfortable. His mouth went dry when he tried to speak. His mind went blank when he tried to rectify that, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he realized that problem was the worst of them all. Nero stared at him, eyebrows raised. Vergil struggled to keep his gaze while chaos raged in his head. He glanced at the road, half-tempted to teleport away and forget all about it. But then he remembered Roxy’s mother… Roxy’s tears… her admission that things would never be the same between them. 

And, moments after the drinks arrived and Nero dared to take a sip, Vergil said,“I wanted to apologize.”

Nero’s head shot to the side as he hacked up a majority of his coffee. “What?” He said as he glared at Vergil (how was that his fault?) and reached for the paper towels. 

Vergil scowled. “Is it that big of a shock?”

“Yes!” Nero said. “You’ve never apologized for anything. At least...” Nero rubbed the back of his neck. “Not to me.”

Vergil looked away. “A mistake that I was hoping to rectify.”

“So the visit didn’t go as planned?”

An interesting leap to make, Vergil thought. “It went as expected.”

Nero whistled. “That rough huh?”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s fair.” Nero took a long sip of his coffee as Vergil finally turned his gaze to his - a small, black coffee that he’d ordered without really thinking - and waited. He’d hoped to seem like that “old father figure” that Nero was expecting, but he didn’t even like coffee. At least, not like this. Roxy’s coffee was alright, but she always had interesting flavors and extra cream. She’d joked with him once or twice that he seemed like a ‘black coffee only’ type of guy, but the bitterness brought up memories he’d rather forget. 

“I want this to work, Nero.”

He said it without thinking, but didn’t bother trying to take it back. He wasn’t lying. Not in the slightest. He did want to make this work. For Nero… and for himself. He didn’t want to end up that estranged father who everyone felt uncomfortable around until he eventually disappeared again. And even now, after finally finding something (or someone) to fall back on should that happen, Vergil didn’t want that. He wanted these two lives of his to come together. To mean something. Roxy, Nero, and the rest of his family… all of their friends...

“Then it will.”

Vergil’s head jerked up in surprise. He didn’t miss the triumphant smile on Nero’s face before he managed to hide it with a sip of his drink. “I mean it,” Nero continued. “You’re obviously capable of making whatever you want to happen… happen. So…” He shrugged as he sat his cup down and crossed his arms. “Are you free a month from now?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“We’re holding a party for one of our foster kids,” Nero said. “A family gathering of sorts. Gonna have a massive barbecue, lots of games for the kids, some for the adults, and hopefully we just have a good time.” He swirled his drink a few times before he spoke again. “I know you’re probably still not comfortable around crowds, and I’m not expecting you to stay the whole time, but if you can make it for a little while… it would mean a lot.”

Vergil nodded. “I’ll look into it.”

“Don’t think you’ll have Yamato back by then?”

Vergil hesitated.  “I’m not sure.”

“Well here’s hoping!” Nero said. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he asked, “how’s Roxy?”

“Sleeping at the moment,” Vergil said. “She’ll be alright.”

Nero nodded. “Feel free to bring her along. Kyrie’s been dying to meet her.” His face then turned a slight shade of red as he looked away. “Something about wanting to know who melted your heart.”

Vergil stared at him. “Melted… what?”

“Well she’s not wrong necessarily… right?” Nero asked. Vergil’s stare didn’t waiver. Nero chuckled awkwardly. “Well it doesn’t matter. Maybe I was reading it all wrong.”

After another long moment, Vergil sighed. “No… you weren’t.” 

It was Nero’s turn to stare, and Vergil might have chuckled was he not busy trying to keep the embarrassment off his own cheeks. “So... you’re like a thing?”

“A what?” Vergil said. 

“A couple.”

“... No.”

“No?” Nero asked.

“... Not yet.” 

“Not yet!?”

Vergil glared at him. “It hasn’t come up.”

Nero looked like he was ready to faint. “Hasn’t come up!? You’re practically living together!”

“Only when you’re here.”

“Oh come on, V.”

Had Nero called him that since he’d come back? Had he called him anything really? Maybe ‘old man’ a few times, but never by a name. He’d always avoided it… as much as they tried to avoid each other. And a part of Vergil wondered if he should be more upset than he was. Instead, he was relieved. “V” meant Nero saw him as a friend. V meant he saw him as the same man that he’d gotten to know and not the demon that had almost messed everything up. And while Vergil was contemplating all of this, Nero kept going, oblivious. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this but you can’t keep her waiting.”

“Keep her… waiting?”

“If you like her,” Nero said slowly. “Then go for it.”

“I hadn’t planned to talk to you about that half of my life,” Vergil said. 

“Well here we are.”

“Through no fault of my own.”

“You kind of brought it up.” Nero said.

“You’re remembering the conversation incorrectly.”

“Don’t you start.” 

“Except I’m right,” Vergil replied.

“This is weird enough as it is.”

“How is it ‘weird’”

“I’m talking to my dad about his love life.”

“I already told you…” Vergil said, eyes narrowing.

Nero countered with his own narrowed gaze. “Just because you’re afraid of her doesn’t mean we’re not talking about it.”

“I am not afraid of her.”

“Prove it.”

“I will.” 

Another moment of silence fell as they glared at each other. But when Nero burst into laughter, Vergil couldn’t help but smile. “Well would you look at that,” Nero said with a lazy grin as he snatched his cup up and propped his feet on the table. Vergil leaned back in his own seat, coffee long forgotten. “A somewhat normal, father-son argument.”

“Is it?”

Nero shook his head. “About as normal as this family’s going to get.”

Vergil couldn’t agree more with that.

Ko-fi – Master List – AO3

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update: CH 6

Catch up on the story here!

I don’t wanna look back and wonder If good enough could’ve been better Every day’s a day that’s borrowed So, why am I waiting for tomorrow

Waiting for Tomorrow - Mandisa

Omi Sushi was the type of restaurant that Vergil would never go to. Not because it wasn’t interesting, but because his rambunctious family would likely be kicked out before they had a chance to order. 

It was a simple, but elegant place next to a mall that Nico announced as “heaven for all the rich folk”. Vergil, who had never been to a mall before, didn’t get what made it so special. He did, however, have a very small moment of panic when he realized just how many people were there. There were more cars in the restaurant's parking lot than people in the entirety of Haven. Then Nico had pointed to a massive building which she’d called “a parking garage”, and Vergil didn’t want to think about how many people were up there. 

He had very briefly considered turning around, but Nico was gone before he got the chance, careening out of the parking lot with a loud cry of “Good luck, V-man!” which was followed by dozens of angry car horns and more than a few curse words. 

His grip tightened on Yamato for a short moment, before he shook his head, let it fall against his hip, and went inside. 

He stopped in the lobby, quietly impressed at how sophisticated the whole thing was. The building was longer than he expected, with booths along the walls and a long, black marbled bar down the center. The chef at the grill was cooking a massive mix of vegetables, noodles, and at least three different meats with a flare that Vergil would normally expect from his brother. Except this man was composed, and Dante most certainly would not be. The few at the bar stared in silent awe, and Vergil was relieved that Roxy was not among them. The windows were covered in elaborate blinds that depicted Japanese style artwork; a cherry blossom tree to the left, and a blue and red swirl of koi-fish to the right. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, providing a nice, white glow that would be just bright enough for humans, and contrasted well with the dark blue paint on the walls. 

“Table for one, sir?” The hostess said as she reached for a menu.

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Name?”

“Roxanna.”

The woman skimmed a list, before giving a curt nod and leading him to the back of the restaurant. It was quiet and mostly empty - not surprisingly given the time- and the few people he did pass by were more content with whispering to each other than any kind of loud conversation. Even his over-sensitive hearing could deal with that, and it only got quieter the further back they went. Eventually, all he heard was the gentle sounds of a fountain on the other side of the restaurant. He wondered if Roxy had chosen this spot on purpose, or if the hostess had gone out of her way to separate everyone as much as possible. Maybe that was just the way they did things. This place did seem rather expensive, which then posed the question of how much she was spending. What was the etiquette with something like this? Should he offer to pay even though she already did? Should he order light and...

His steps and thoughts froze when his eyes fell on her. She was sitting in a booth along the back wall, eyes locked on the book in her hands. It was a novel of some kind; a large hardback titled, “Warbreaker” with its sleeve-jacket sitting neatly on the side. She hadn’t gotten very far, but the sheer intensity of her gaze told him she was long lost in the story. That aside, she looked more comfortable today than he’s seen her before. No signs of obvious pain. Her posture was mostly flawless, though she could sit up a bit straighter. Her hair was tied back in a pony-tail, and a bit longer than he remembered. And she looked comfortable; black leggings with shoes he’d heard Kyrie refer to as “flats” once or twice. A light blue shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to just under her elbows and a white and blue plaid scarf that hung like an oversized necklace. The word “normal” came to mind, especially compared to Vergil’s own not-at-all casual vest and full-length jacket combo he wore every day. 

Again, he pondered the consequences of leaving before she saw him. She would certainly be disappointed, and likely wouldn’t have come here if he hadn’t agreed to it. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he would be walking away from a second and undoubtedly last chance. Dante had mentioned it. Nico had warned him about it. Deep down, Vergil knew they were both right.

You want to be a part of this world, right? Dante had said. Here’s your chance. A friend. 

Vergil did not yet know what he was meant to do in this new world of his. He didn’t know how to fix the nonexistent relationship with his son, or how to find meaning in something he’d never truly been a part of. But he did know one thing: the answers to such questions would never fall right at his feet. Not unless he reached for the few that did. 

“Sir?”

He nodded to the hostess as Roxy’s eyes shifted away from her book. “Thank you,” He said and slid into the bench across from her before he had another chance to second guess himself. “I hope I did not keep you waiting,” He said, relying on the remnants of confidence that he’d once exuded without hesitation. It was surprisingly easy, given the circumstances, though Vergil knew he was tugging on the pieces of V that were still hovering somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Roxy’s eyes widened seconds before her smile. “Not at all,” She said as she gently replaced the book’s dust jacket before tucking it away in the bag by her side. “I had to argue with the new guy at the bookstore for a while, so I just got here myself.” She shook her head with a very brief scowl. “Long story, not really worth it.” Her smile returned as the waitress appeared with two cups of water and an extra menu. “All the books are making their way to the train station as we speak.” 

“All the books?”

“Yep,” She said. “My tri-monthly book haul. I suppose this one was more of a bi-yearly trip, but that’s neither here nor there.” She sipped from her water with all the grace one might expect of a dignified woman of her age, but her gaze never wavered. 

He’d be lying if he said her confidence wasn’t appealing. 

“You have other plans then, I’m assuming?”

She nodded. “Gotta pick up some art supplies while I’m here. Starting to run out of all the important things.” Vergil heard a quiet, affirmative chirp from her bag. 

“A hobby of yours?”

When the waitress came back, it was Roxy who waved her away with a gentle smile and a quiet ‘few more minutes please.’ The woman simply nodded and walked away. “A job, actually,” She said. “Though it started as a hobby way back when I was just big enough to hold a paintbrush.” Her eyes glittered, and Vergil found that his pulse had finally settled to a much quieter and expected pace. Of course, he hadn’t realized it was beating so quickly in the first place, but that wasn’t important. “I can’t leave the house as often as I want,” Roxy said as she tapped gently on the menu. “So I like to stay productive.” Her head tilted. “What about you?”

Vergil paused, contemplating. He should have foreseen this. Back and forth questions were normal. Expected. Human. But there was still a small part of him that hesitated. A piece that wasn’t sure how much information to share and what to keep to himself. But, after a quick reminder of his own conviction, he said, “I prefer to read when given the time. Though with all the jobs my brother asks me to work, I rarely get that luxury.” He didn’t mean to sound so bitter and was surprised when Roxy nodded. 

“Now that, I understand,” She said. “I spend so much time on commissions nowadays that I can’t recall the last time I’ve painted something for myself.” She shrugged. “Can’t complain, though.”

“You could.”

She laughed. He’d heard it before, but this was the first time he’d realized that it was actually pleasing. A quiet, controlled laugh that didn’t grate at his ears like Nico or threaten to deafen him like Dante’s. Hers was acceptable. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again. “You’re not wrong,” She said. “But I try to stay as positive as life lets me.” Vergil hummed, but even he wasn’t certain if it was in agreement or simple acknowledgment. Roxy’s smile never faltered. “Are you hungry? Feel free to order whatever you’d like.”

“You still have to go to the art store, yes?”

She blinked. “Well, the train won’t be here for like six hours so… No rush.”

“You won’t need it,” He said as he glanced at the menu. “Unless that’s what you’d prefer.”

He could feel her staring at him, but he kept his eyes planted firmly on the words in front of him. Though he seemed to have forgotten how to read, for his eyes only saw strange squiggles while he waited for her response. And, after two quiet chirps that were akin to Nico’s encouragement, Roxy said, “I don’t have everything pre-ordered there, so it’ll take a little while to find it all if you’re up for that.” Vergil’s eyes flickered to hers, waiting as she stared out of the window in thought. “I can still cancel the ticket.” His heart skipped a beat when she looked back with an excited grin. “And I would love the company.”

Vergil nodded as the words on the menu finally made sense. “Eat first,” He said. “Wouldn’t want you falling unconscious. My international escort fee isn’t cheap.”

He swore Aki started laughing at that comment- or however one described an owl hooting an excessive amount of times- and Vergil could almost imagine Griffon snickering in approval. Roxy’s face flushed a bright shade of red as she failed to hide it behind another sip of water. “Not today,” She said. “Thank whomever for small favors, I suppose.”

Vergil smirked, but it was gone the moment the waitress returned. Humoring a single human was more than enough for one day. 

--------------------------

The rest of their time at the restaurant was more relaxing and informative than Vergil expected. It was nice, he decided, to converse with someone that knew as little about him as he did them. The questions were superficial, but he didn’t mind, and she was quite eager to share her own responses. By the time their meal was over, he knew her favorite color (blue - good choice), how many people were in her family (only child, hadn’t seen her mother in a while), and her favorite food (fruit; bananas and watermelons preferred). She’d talked about her favorite books, many new titles he’d never heard of but was now interested in reading based on her enthusiasm alone. He talked about his favorite poetry and was glad that she didn’t judge his lack of present-day literature knowledge. He’d even gotten her to talk about music and was content to listen to the numerous different genres, artists, and the passion she had for each one of them.

Needless to say, when she asked if he was certain he wanted to accompany her, Vergil agreed. After a quiet moment of consideration, of course. And a quick glance at his phone to confirm that Nico hadn’t run anyone over. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking he was genuinely interested in the opportunity to spend more time with someone outside of his family. 

What a foolish notion that would be. 

Liviana’s was a hobby store that was close enough to the restaurant that they could enter from the outside of the mall rather than cutting through the crowd. Vergil wasn’t certain who was more relieved when Roxy told him that, as he didn’t miss the way she drifted away from crowds as they walked. Even inside the store, where there were dozens upon dozens of massive aisles on multiple floors. And as she guided them through the emptiest ones. It became very clear that she had been here many, many times before. 

Vergil was content to walk behind her. Not because he was worried about anything, but more because it gave him a chance to observe. At first, he’d glanced around the store, checking for every door, every strange alcove in the ceiling, all the stairs; everything a casual devil hunter might need in a crisis. 

But then his eyes had drifted back toward her. She walked with pride, exchanging hellos with whoever offered them, but not going out of the way to greet anyone herself. Her back was straight with no signs of spasms, but he’d catch her reaching for it from time to time, before quickly pulling her hand away. A reflexive movement, he assumed, but that was a given. She’d clearly dealt with it many times before, but he would never have guessed that if he hadn’t seen her injury for himself. And that alone brought up many questions that demanded answers, but he held them back, uncertain if that would dampen the relatively peaceful few hours they’d had so far. 

“Vergil?”

He stopped short of crashing right into her, oblivious to the fact she had stopped at all. “Yes?”

“Is something on your mind?”

Had his thoughts truly been that obvious? He supposed he had been more relaxed around her than with others. Dante always admonished him for being “so cold all the time”. Vergil had even overheard Nero venting to Kyrie how frustrating it was that Vergil didn’t act like… anything (he still didn’t know what his son had meant by that). But even Vergil knew he was always tense around them. Too many things to hide. Too many things that could go wrong. Words that conveyed the wrong meaning. Reactions that could be taken the wrong way. 

It was a mistake to let that part of him go, so he pulled it back together before he spoke again. “Nothing for you to worry about,” He said simply as his gaze rose to the wall behind her. “Canvases?” 

“Yep,” She said, though her voice was quieter than before. Vergil felt a twinge of something at the sound but didn’t address it. “Some clients want hand-painted works, and those are always the more lucrative jobs.”

“Hand-painted?” Vergil echoed. “As opposed to?”

If she were anyone else, Vergil was certain he would have gotten a strange look. Something like Dante’s far too common “you really don’t know anything” stare before he’d sarcastically go through whatever it was Vergil had missed over the last two decades. But Roxy said nothing of the sort and moved on as if it was a completely normal question. “Digital artwork is way more popular,” she said. “Arguably easier for me too, but that depends on the request.” She pulled a small notepad from her bag, whispering a quiet, “go back to sleep, Aki, we’re almost done” as she did so. 

“Which do you prefer?”

“Honestly?” She said as she stood up on her toes in an attempt to reach the largest canvas on top. Vergil reached over her head and plucked it down with ease. She laughed as she took it and started piling the smaller ones on top. “I like them both, but hand-painted ones are always more unique, and I have a lot more freedom to try new things.” After her seventh canvas, she tapped a button with her elbow. An employee practically materialized out of thin air, and they shared a quick conversation before the woman took the canvases and a page from Roxy’s notebook away. “She’ll take care of all the paints and more expensive things I need,” Roxy said. “But I don’t trust many people with my paintbrushes.” 

Then, Vergil’s phone rang. For a long moment, he considered not answering it. But, knowing how few people actually had his number and cared to call, he thought better of it. “Yes?” He said looking away. 

“V-man!”

He pulled the phone away slightly as Nico’s voice echoed far too loudly in his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got trouble!”

Vergil frowned. “What kind of trouble?”

“Lots of demons, and way too many portals for Nero to handle. Dante’s off dealing with what he can but…” She took a long and somewhat shaky breath. “I’m by the train station, if you can meet me here.”

“I’m on my way.” Vergil hung up without waiting for a response. “I apologize, but my help is needed.”

“Demons?” Roxy said.

“Yes.”

“Let me tag along.”

Vergil stared at her, but she didn’t flinch. Aki’s head popped out of the bag from the corner of Vergil’s eye, tilting to the side with a questioning chirp. “I can fight,” She said. 

“Last time you hit three demons and passed out.”

“I went hunting yesterday,” She said. “So I’m good this time. Promise.”

“So you do absorb the demonic essence?”

She closed her eyes for a brief moment. When they opened again, Vergil swore he saw a flash of light blue that faded the second she blinked. “Yes,” She said. “It heals my body, and strengthens the demons that rely on me.”

That caught his interest. “More than one?”

“Two,” She said. “Aki included.” She grinned mischievously. “If you want to see the other one, then you’ll have to take me with you.”

Vergil scowled, but he could feel his lips twitching in an approving smirk. “Fine,” He said. “But you’ll have to keep up, and don’t get in my way.”

“Easy,” She said. “Just be sure to duck once and a while or I won’t get to kill anything.”