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Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

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Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may music #song fic requests #cirice #cirice ghost #there aaaaare a few references to other things sprinkled here and there #the nostalgia and haziness from secular haze and ghuleh/zombie queen #but the whole Eva thing was the zombie queen nostalgia #never let go? that's from Titanic #the two thundering noises being the thundering drums from the song #the holding hands from the video from the scene that killed me in Matrix and my drawing when I was 15 y/o #seriously it's a recurring imagery in my life and I'm always ??? so it's in here too #I won't suffer alone #for some reason I sometimes sing 'I can see through the stars inside you'#and that's where the reader's 'I can see beyond your glimmer and I don't fear the dark' comes from #and that silly little ending at the shop was just a thing to tie it all together #OH! THE HELL PIRANHAS! Totally inspired by those shadow piranhas from the library planet episode in Doctor Who #the whole concept of those things just creeps me out #if some lost soul from the Ghost fandom fell here by chance or mistake do apologize #I need to tag things properly in this blog to update my masterlist forgotten in the abyss so finding it by cirice will be easier #Youtube

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polarisbibliotheque · 8 days

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Silly writer things and some musical ramblings

*sigh* just a little silly writing update to you all before I come back with serious stuff, shattering whole worlds, making you cry over feels for these unhinged half-demons,

I 100.000% blame my sister for throwing me back into my Richie Sambora crush and I must warn you all it will show in the next things I write for Dante - we'll have 'you yee'd your last 'haw' silly red devil in these premises soon enough and I regret nothing.

Though Dante will be more like this, probably

Before you guys ask, it's the Bon Jovi docuseries. I first listened to them when I was 6 y/o, probably, and Livin' on a Prayer was the first song I felt things I didn't even know I could feel with music. I saw Richie singing and playing, bam, love at first guitar chord.

Plus, Wanted Dead or Alive is one of Dante's life anthems, he would sing and play it 10/10 dressed like Richie, I'll die on this hill. I'll leave you with the video that made me go "I wanna be a badass guitar player someday":

(and some of my music ramblings under the cut for those interested in it, feel free to not read it but give the video a shot! Seriously. It's a very long ramble, though you might learn a thing or two on music!)

youtube

OK! MUSICAL SHENANIGANS!

Little disclaimer: I'm just getting back to it, so sorry for blabbering about this here - I kinda need an outlet and I have no one else to talk to about all this. Music has been my best friend ever since I was a kid and I had to muffle it for a very long time in my life, I'm just now coming back to life and it feels amazing!

I had piano classes at school, but I always wanted to play and learn things that weren't quite in the curriculum...

Hence why I got used to watching videos and observing musicians extensively. It's kinda creepy actually

So, Richie has a triple neck guitar here, first time I ever saw one. The first neck, I think it's something close to a mandolin, second neck a normal 6 strings guitar, third neck a 12 strings guitar - basically, 2 strings instead of just one like a regular guitar. The 12 strings is the one that gives Wanted Dead or Alive that cowboy feels to it.

Now, that behemoth of a guitar must weight a fucking ton. My normal, 6 strings stratocaster already weights like hell - don't ever be fooled by those guitarists manhandling their guitars around like nothing 'cause those things are heavy - imagine a triple threat like that. No wonder he plays most of it sitting down.

Hence why Dante can play and wield Nevan like it's made of cardboard, it's his demonic side showing, that showoff

Another thing to note, is that when he gets his electric guitar, his strap is adjusted so his guitar isn't super low on his body... And he doesn't look like young Beatles with the guitars on their chests. He looks cool, I can play my guitar like Richie and I'll be cool, 'cause I CAN'T for THE LIFE OF ME play with my guitar almost on my knees. I personally find it easier and better to play like he does.

My arms aren't that long, I'm pocket-sized, thanks Richie for avenging me back in the 80's and looking cool regardless.

And size has nothing to do with it, 'cause this man is big - and I say that by his hands. My main pet peeve with guitarists worldwide: men have big hands and can wrap them easily around the guitar necks and play 5 finger chords using their thumbs like it's nothing.

Not exclusive to men, though: my sister can do the same, but she doesn't play anything. Blessings were wasted on her :')

Nevertheless, I love watching guitarists hands and how they do stuff: how they hold their picks, how they play the notes, how they move their hands. Richie has wonderful hands and hand movements, and there's a lot to learn there by carefully watching him play.

For instance: I can rest assured I'm not learning alternate picking and training to play faster wrong, 'cause Richie rests his pinky finger of his rhythm hand on the guitar while picking the strings and it's exactly what I naturally do.

I can ditch all those "5 things you're doing wrong when playing guitar!! Avoid this!! Bet you're doing the 3rd example!!" videos, 'cause if Richie Fucking Sambora plays like this, then I'm not doing it wrong, just differently. It gives you some reassurance if you don't have a teacher or if your teacher is an asshole.

I hate people who put so many rules in music. I'm kinda like Barbossa, the Code (theory) is more of a guideline than rules set in stone, anyway. I'm learning theory, but I personally believe the ~feeling~ is more important

One thing I always do, is watch where they play on the fret and their rhythm hand movement, and I managed to figure out some songs I had trouble with just by watching them playing live.

Figured out the C9 chord while watching this video of Richie and "why isn't he playing the C chord that I play when I learned this song?" because the man knows best and taught me a thing or two I didn't know ;)

Hahahaha so, my fellow musicians, I do this with all instruments. I learn the chords, but I always watch thoroughly various videos of the guys who made the songs playing live so I can double, triple, quadruple check if I'm doing it right or how to get unstuck in a particularly annoying part I cannot figure out for the life of me.

You know those videos people make of musicians playing live on social media? Currently I'm getting a lot of Nameless Ghouls on my instagram hahahaha and said videos are WONDERFUL to watch hands and learn. I have a hand issue

And I'll end this on: Richie's ragged voice singing his part of the song at the end does things to me. Sorry Jon. But Richie snatched my heart right then and there.

I hope you guys who were patient enough to read this learned something from it and NOW I shall go write a little more and go to sleep, 'cause it's almost 2 a.m over here and I think it's showing :)

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polarisbibliotheque · 12 days

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Thank you for the tag @sarraa-26 !

I knew one day this meme would be useful

No pressure tag: @furyeclipse and anyone here who wants to join, you're tagged. Go! \o/

(I'm actually curious, people, don't feel shy to reblog and add yours, I wanna know the readers too hahaha)

Choose one picture from ur camera roll without downloading to sum your personality and then tag 5 ppl

Thank you @mzyraj 🥺

Tagging: @decafdoppio @spidercrimes @maxtuscactus @numbaoneflaya and anyone else whod like to do this 👀

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polarisbibliotheque · 20 days

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Hey, as some of you guys might know, I'm Brazilian. This is not on my state, I'm from the southeast, so I'm safe from this horrible horrible thing that has happened in the south.

I've been going through my closet this week to separate a bunch of good clothes I barely wear and donate - managed to get quite a lot actually. I'm helping my mom do the same and we're off to help them, because the situation is BAD.

If you can help, please donate. Everyone here in the whole country is mobilizing to help these people - because in the end, it's the people for the people (and I'm not the one who's saying this, a LOT of people are saying that). This is a crisis that was CERTAINLY avoidable and because of the government's negligence and lack of environmental protection laws, whole cities are basically destroyed - for lack of a better word.

Imagine loosing EVERYTHING inside your house and being able to only save yourself and the people you live with. Now imagine your entire city is like that. Everything underwater and no hope.

People are doing task forces to rescue as many people as possible and send them to shelters. Animals lost their homes and some of them are completely lost or disappeared. Every day we have news of rescues on boats - the other day, they saved a horse that was stranded on the roof of a house. That's how high the water is. Honestly, the picture up there isn't even a third of what's going on the south.

If you decide to help, though, I urge you to donate to the NGOs or celebrities/influencers/etc. organized crowdfundings - don't donate to the government. I'm being extremely picky to donate currently because I don't really trust some entities to actually use my donations to help people instead of taking it for themselves/their own profit. I'm not donating to the government - currently, I trust Gisele a lot more than them.

I'm probably going to donate to a church near my home - I'm not the most religious person in the world and I might have a personal beef with religious institutions, but I know they will help.

My grandpa was from the south, so to say we're all devastated with what's happening there here at home is an understatement. We will do everything we can to at least try to give people some relief, even if it means just giving them a shirt to wear during this horrible, avoidable tragedy.

Donate to victims of Brazil floods from abroad

Brazil’s southernmost state of Rio Grande do Sul, a state the size of Ecuador, has been devastated by historic floods, with most of its 497 municipalities in a state of public calamity. Authorities have described the crisis as “war-like” and consider it the state’s worst crisis caused by natural disasters ever.

Roughly 200,000 people were forced out of their homes, according to state officials. The death toll, which has been growing fast, is inching closer to the mark of 100 — and there are still more than 130 people missing.

A series of public and private initiatives are collecting donations in order to mitigate the devastating effects of the crisis. Post offices in the states of São Paulo and Paraná, as well as some in Rio Grande do Sul, for example, offered to collect and transport donations free of charge.

#polaris speaks #personal post #update #personal #when I say it's a country wide commotion it's because it is #they are collecting donations at churches universities supermarkets #people with their own business are trying to organize raffles and such #I walked around the block yesterday and almost everywhere there's a place you can leave donations #trucks and trucks filled with potable water to take it to the airport #it's a tragedy yes #but somehow it's beautiful to see how even after all the hate we have been through the last years in politics #people come together to help when others are in need

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polarisbibliotheque · 24 days

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Thank you for the tag @sarraa-26 ! I've been away for a while for personal reasons, didn't really have the time to be active here, so I'm compensating now

i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts (glasses) / i have blonde hair (it's a weird blonde like Axl Rose) / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings (ears) / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails (sometimes, black) / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports (not regularly) / i play an instrument (piano, guitar) / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend ive known for over five years / i am an only child

Anyone who wants to join, feel free to reblog this one and keep going!

Got tagged by @kaitaiga thanks again I love doing stuff like this.

i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts (glasses) / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes (depends, i like tight tops and baggy pants) / i have one or two piercings (only ears)/ i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting boss face / i play sports (does lifting weights count lmao)/ i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone (?? Does a situationship count LMAOOO) / i have a best friend ive known for over five years / i am an only child

This was fun, okay so I'm going to tag,

@cybxr-nem3sis @itsclovhere @gamergirlbones @pampanope @deadbranch

#polaris speaks #tagging game #personal post #just a little thing so you guys can know a couple random things about me ^^

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polarisbibliotheque · 24 days

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

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

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

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

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

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

(more under the cut, this answer is LONG)

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

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

Without further ado…

Vergil

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dante and Vergil seal of approval here hahahahaha

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dante

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And last but not least:

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

#polaris speaks #polaris answers #answered asks #anon ask #devil may cry #dante sparad #vergil sparda #dmc dante #dmc vergil #mbti types #mbti personality types #seriously the last meme when I saw it #I was on the floor laughing like a madwoman #it's precisely Vergil being a competitive bitch and Dante just being chill #ending up traumatized by his twin brother's shenanigans #while said little bitch is on his way to fight god even #(in this case Mundus the king of hell but you get what I mean)

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polarisbibliotheque · 25 days

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Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Vergil's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Vergil's Path

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.

Author's Notes: Fucking finally part 2 hahahaha I deeply apologize for taking so long to post Vergil's part. As some of you might have seen here, my dad suffered an accident and my life turned upside down the last few months - I'm still managing, doing damage control hahaha but slowly getting back on track with my writing.

But here is Vergil's part! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand this madness and, if you're a Dante appreciator, fret not, the red devil part is here.

I have to thank my dear friend @furyeclipse for sending me this idea as an ask a thousand years ago - and now, it is finally done! You can check Fury's work on ao3 right here, I highly recommend it!

I'm also going through a phase of powerful monsters (vampires, demons, the whole unholy pantheon) being on their knees for their human partner and, oh boy, it shows. I'm not apologizing. Oh. And the Helen of Troy/Sparta is NOT a gendered thing. It's more of being recognized as the most beautiful among mortals, enough to cause a war for their love. And yes there's a Ghost reference in there, I FINALLY got to properly listen to their music and man, why did I sleep on them for so long??

Devil May Halloween 2023 - Vergil's Path

Demonic marriages. There was a topic you had to admit you were completely ignorant about.

Vergil had mentioned it once. You did ask him when Sparda’s and Eva’s union arose as a subject in one of your researches one day – for, as far as you knew, marriages were religious and it did make you wander if demons had their own religion or only rituals.

That subject was very muddy, as per Vergil’s words. His own knowledge on the matter was very limited – and that was something new for you.

“Hmmm. A very good question indeed.” Vergil murmured as he put down his book on the table, raising his silvery eyes to you. The library was dead quiet, but his voice was always so low it wasn’t a concern – even if you both were the only living beings in that place at that hour. “You could say some demons are powerful enough to be viewed as gods, but those would be only the likes of Mundus.”

“And Sparda…?” Oh, you had to ask. After all, wasn’t Sparda the only demon strong enough to defeat Mundus? Who could ever defeat a being as powerful as a god? Only a god as well, at least in your mortal eyes.

Vergil allowed a proud smile to spread over his lips as nodded in agreement.

“Well, we do have Fortuna as an example of people worshipping demons as gods, so humans praying to demons doesn’t really surprise me. There are plenty of cults and even churches who do that.” You shrugged, organizing your books and papers, passing him a list of demonic cults you had been keeping track over the years. You weren’t one to judge, but, seeing your occupation was to slaughter demons, it was always good to keep an eye on them. “Eva and Sparda getting married made me wonder. Marriages are very religious, how did Sparda deal with that? Given his story, I don’t think it was only a civil ceremony for government benefits, right?”

“Right indeed…” Vergil once again murmured, curiously reading your list. It was a very thorough and good document, and he couldn’t stop himself to think how it was smart of you to do that. He had a list of people to keep an eye on as well now. “I’ve never really wondered about that as a child, for I didn’t know much of the world back then. We tend to accept that what we see and what it’s said to be true… But after I started researching and learning, it did spark my interest. As far as I can tell you, my father accepted my mother’s faith and married her by her rules, not the opposite. He would never do that just out of a civil agreement, he really did it for love.”

“So even with the power of gods, demons don’t have religions.”

“Again, that is a very good question. I never could really answer it with certainty.” Vergil sighed, leaving your list on the table between you and raising his silvery eyes to yours once more. “As impressive as it sounds, demons don’t lack faith. Some of them do worship more powerful demons as deities, and some of them do join each other in cults. As far as I could observe in Hell, they are very similar to humans on that matter: each has their own set of rules and beliefs and most of them kill each other for their ‘gods’.”

“Huh. Humanity once again proving they can be quite demonic.” You scoffed while rolling your eyes. Religious wars were as old as History itself and it was quite ironic for you to hear that was something present in demonic History as well.

“Or demons proving once again they have something of human after all.” Vergil shrugged after observing you a few long seconds, before turning his eyes to another one of his books again. “I’d argue not all humans, though. Differently from demons, most of them save themselves from being devilish and evil.”

“Hmmm. A few demons can also save themselves from that fate.” You had a slight smile on your lips, turning to your tea mug nearby. “And those who do can be even kinder than humans.”

That conversation would find its end right there that night, as both of you went back to your books and research – but you were able to see a slight smile on Vergil’s lips and how his eyes seemed to have softened after that.

Even if your Dark Slayer could soften under your words, you doubted other demons would do that – and even went as far as doubting they would have something close to a human heart. Vergil was different from all the demons in that place; and so, marriage was the last word you ever expected to hear.

But there you were, locked in a derelict room with Kyrie, surrounded by the long gone gothic architecture of a cathedral that once stood proud among those lands – now rotten, decayed, desecrated and with its colorful glass mosaics shattered everywhere, it was taken by demons to perform their unholy ritual.

“We’re really in it now, aren’t we Kyrie…?” You sighed back to the only human soul with you in that place – the only hope in that godforsaken night, lit only by the flickering warm light of candles. “Marriage. I did not expect it would be this way, though, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I didn’t expect it either…” Kyrie sighed in complete desolation, staring at a loose stone on the floor. “Nero is going to be so mad.”

“I can only imagine.” You answered with a giggle, taking a seat at rotten wood bench that once served as a place for priests to read while doing their own religious researches. “I don’t think Vergil is going to be very pleased as well.”

“Oh.” And it finally seemed to down on Kyrie who your lover was and how much trouble those demons were in. “Did he… Ever tell you about something like this…?”

“Well, marriage is not really a topic that usually arises with Vergil…” You had your eyes lost on an old bookcase, imagining if any of those would be worth a read. Not that you had too much time for that at the moment, but you were quite disturbed. If it was only you in that situation, you would be more at ease, but Kyrie’s presence changed everything. “But he did tell me about a similar ritual between humans and demons. The human usually isn’t a consenting participant though.”

Raising your eyes to hers, Kyrie felt a shiver down her spine. She knew exactly what you meant and that whole situation was also quite frightening for her – in a matter of fact, she probably wasn’t that scared because you were there; but even that didn’t help much. Not when both of you had no idea what was going on.

“I hate the fact they took my weapons. I’m thinking of a thousand ways to get out of here, but I can’t do it without at least my sword.” You rested your head on one of your hands, looking completely defeated. Kyrie had pity in her eyes, sitting by your side right after.

“Well… This isn’t exactly the sort of wedding dress I would choose either.” She sighed in desolation making you snort a quick laugh. “I’m not comfortable in this. I can only imagine how naked you feel.”

“Don’t tell me about it…” You rolled your eyes, pointing at your own attire. You and Kyrie looked positively ridiculous: it was as if the demon in charge of your clothes had only seen a bunch of 80’s movies depicting marriages and thought they had to be even more over the top than that. You could barely move in your own clothes and hated every single second of being in that thing. “If I at least had my gun, I’d shoot the bastard who thought this was acceptable.”

Kyrie had to giggle. It was always endearing to see how some of Vergil’s mannerisms spilled into yours over the time and vice versa. Your voice was as sharp as a piece of ice and your eyes had the same predatorial gaze – even if your words sounded funny in context.

“Couldn’t you use your summoned swords? Like Vergil?”

“I could but I shouldn’t.” Your answer was a little slow, because you were considering it. Using summoned swords was always an advantage, but it did come with its limitations. “Vergil is teaching me how to use all his arcane knowledge, little by little… But I’m human.” As you looked at Kyrie, she seemed to immediately understand what you meant: after all, she was the human companion of a half-demon as well. “It takes a lot of energy. Vergil can tap into his demonic energy that, honestly, it can power a whole city when he’s in the right mood. When it comes to me, though, I can only go so far. It takes a lot more concentration and I can do it only for a while – I’m a novice at it even, so I can’t hold it for too long. I need to train a lot more to be able to take an entire mission, for example.”

“Hmmm. It’s just like when Nero trains me with Credo’s sword…” Kyrie mumbled, resting her head on both of her hands, while her elbows leaned on her knees. You had to giggle: she looked like a bummed out child. “It’s so heavy, I can only do a couple of moves and I get tired quickly.”

“Is that why you’ve been training strength at the gym recently…?” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. There was something of sweet about that.

Your little angel was soon going to become a buffed little angel waving a big ass sword around. You loved that concept. Nero’s jaw would hit the floor.

“Exactly.” But Kyrie had the most angelic of smiles on her lips. You knew how it was important to her to be able to use Credo’s sword, even if it was just to protect herself and the children of the orphanage – she was never going to become a devil hunter like you. But she was going to be a guardian angel… Like Credo would’ve been if Sanctus hadn’t taken him away in that demonic cult in Fortuna.

Before you could say anything else, though, you felt a shift in the air. Furrowing your brows, you immediately got up from your seat and put yourself in front of Kyrie: whatever it was, it would have to go through you first. She didn’t say a word, seeming to hide behind you and that horrid thing you were wearing – which didn’t really work, seeing how evident her own dress was.

With a few sparks, one of the demon lords spawned right in front of you: Erlach.

“Everything seems to be ready for the ceremony, then. Good.” His smile spread across his leathery skin as a row of a thousand sharp knives. Erlach carried horns and claws, eyes with desolation and the fiery pits of his home, and a set of large wings fit for an overgrown bat – but something about his features were astoundingly human. Demon lords could tower over humans, sometimes even taller than doors, and carry all the might and horror of Hell, but their kind were built in resemblance with their mortal peers – which wasn’t very common when it came to demons.

“When you force your guests to take part in it, things do get ready at your will, demon.” You had that typical coldness in your eyes – the type that would make the will of a lesser demon waiver. It wasn’t the case with Erlach, though: a spark seemed to have crossed his eyes, as he stared at you for a few seconds with interest.

“Apologize being so rude, but I do think you wouldn’t have come this far out of free will, human.” He spat back, allowing a smile to take over his features once more. It wasn’t the most inviting thing you had ever seen, you had to be honest.

“With this sort of attire, I certainly wouldn’t have.”

To your surprise, Erlach laughed in response. You quickly shared a glare with Kyrie, both of you uneasy with such… Tolerance from him.

“I might have to agree with you. Now, come. I wish to speak to you in private – we have enough to discuss.”

Before you could even respond, you blinked and suddenly, you were in an old study. Probably a part of the cathedral that only priests had access, with private rooms where they could make their own little libraries and studies – the desk had books and documents all over it, the fire was lit and a thousand candles burned in orange to give light to one of the deepest nights of the year.

You tried not to sigh: demonic teleportation was always a nuisance to you. Your human body still had to get used to that and you always got a little angry at Vergil when he void teleported you with Yamato: he was wise to always ask your permission first and, if it happened during an emergency and it was the only thing available for him to protect you, he knew he was in for some serious complaining from your part later.

Honestly, Vergil would rather have you safe, complaining at him and as mad as a human could be than have you harmed in a place he couldn’t protect you. He was actually getting well versed in dealing with your void teleportation complaints.

“Your kind isn’t very prone to conversations.” You had to point out, taking a deep breath. Your dizziness would be gone in a few seconds and you didn’t want Erlach to know how much it affected you. “Mindless dismemberments and self-boasting talk seem to be the preferred route for demons.”

“Lesser demons. Demon lords do have a different approach to things… And deals.” Erlach walked around his table, skimming over some documents before turning his fiery eyes to you and smiling once more. “The brainless dismembering style is still preferred by some, though. Like Orcus.”

“The second demon lord here tonight.” As you noted, Erlach seemed to have enjoyed your answer. It meant you were paying attention, not only trying to escape. “Demons are quite selfish as well, I wouldn’t expect to see your kind engaging in alliances. Or is that something peculiar to demon lords as well…?”

Yes, you were trying to provoke him – it was in your fighting style, in your blood. When fighting against demons, they all boasted how terrible they were, how they would smash you into a paste on the pavement and feast on your bones. You had to know how to answer at the same level or the fear would get to you. After all, you were fighting against supernatural things on a daily basis, obviously faster and stronger than you. If you didn’t taunt them to inspire a little bit of fear and belittle them before your humanity, you would cower in a corner and wait for certain death.

It was something Vergil admired on you, though. You had everything to fear those you fought against – and, sometimes, you knew you were overpowered by them. Even so, you wouldn’t allow that to show, you would masterfully control your emotions and only let out those you allowed your enemies to see. Vergil was quite proud of that.

“It’s peculiar to those of us who rather use our minds instead of our powers.” Erlach’s eyes lost all interest they had on the documents and were immediately glued to you and you only. Not once you shifted your gaze, and not once your body seemed to want to run away. You just stood there, immobile, gazing back at his fiery eyes with the same conviction as his – waiting the rest of his answer. “You see, I could break your bones with the flick of my wrist, but that wouldn’t be so fun, would it…?” Erlach approached with a slight smile on his lips, some fun playing in his words. His steps were slow and calculated, everything he could to inspire fear in your human heart. “There’s so much more in this world than bending it to your will by force.”

“It is a lot easier. Or so did Mundus think.” You crossed your arms and slightly raised your head, failing to notice how arrogant you looked… Just like Vergil used to be. Dante said one day both of you would get your ass kicked for looking cocky and, well, your day might have arrived. You wouldn’t let your pride slip out of you, tough, and something about Erlach’s demeanor made you think he wasn’t really annoyed by it. His feelings were… Something else.

“It didn’t take him too far, did it…?” Erlach raised one of his eyebrows, slowly approaching you once again. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on his pray, but instead of running, you maintained your posture. The one the Dark Slayer taught you. The one from knowing the power of being tied to the blood of Sparda. “Mundus was arrogant to think humans were only meat.”

“Apparently we are unwilling wedding participants too.” You scoffed, making Erlach laugh in response. You had to hide how his reaction took you by surprise: how much did you have to taunt him for that demon lord to finally lose his temper? “I don’t suppose you brought me here only to properly propose to me.”

“Differently from the Spardas, I do believe in taking some things by force.” Erlach’s voice had a delight laced in his words that made you… Slightly uncomfortable. “The ritual is taking place tonight, whether you and your friend agree to it or not. I just wanted to look into your eyes and see what the son of Sparda, the Dark Slayer who had been locked in Hell for decades, saw in you. A bond between a demon and any mortal creature isn’t one to be taken lightly.”

“Well, then you aren’t in luck. I am not married to Vergil, nor do I think he will ever want to be.” Your answer was certain and, to the demon’s surprise, carried no tinge of bitterness. You and Vergil had an agreement regarding your relationship: he would be with you for as long as you would have him, but he would never think of binding you to his fate like his father did to his mother. You had said countless times you didn’t mind and you weren’t afraid, but it wasn’t something Vergil was ready for. And you could respect that. “Our bond is not what you think it is.”

“Oh, it is exactly what I think it is.” Erlach’s words carried a truth you feared you weren’t able to see at the moment – as if he knew something you didn’t. You had to control your feelings not to furrow your brows and allow him to see your confusion, hiding it under your unbothered and strong demeanor – like whatever words he said could never affect you. “It isn’t a ceremonial bond, but one of souls. The heart does not lie, my exquisite guest, and the Spardas seem to be haunted by their father’s heartful curse.” His fingers grasped an old piece of paper in one of the desks by your side; Erlach’s indifferent eyes analyzed its contents while he spoke. “I will never understand why Sparda decided not to follow our rituals. He could’ve been great; Greater than Mundus himself. But he chose to diminish and turn himself as human as he could be… and look at what happened to him and his family. A shame, really.” He tossed aside the paper, and you could see an old picture of Sparda and Eva, falling apart from how old it was. Probably cut out from a book, looking like a painting; a portrait made long ago, before Dante and Vergil were even born. “Our marriage is called a binding ritual. It requires two souls to connect, and it makes one of them more powerful than one could ever dream of.”

“Hmmm. It requires one to diminish itself and be a powerless servant, then. I can see why Sparda discarded this option.” He would’ve never done such a thing to Eva, and that you had learned from all the stories Vergil told you from his parents. If you had only known the story from the books and popular tales, you would’ve asked yourself the same thing and have the same questions Erlach had – but you did have Sparda’s own son to tell the story. To paint you how his father was warm, stern, yes, but still kind, graceful and loving… To paint him as human. In all his adoration for Eva, he would never think of turning her into a powerless slave to his will. That was not what love was. “You still have much to learn.”

Erlach’s fiery eyes immediately met yours – but they didn’t carry the offense you thought they would. There was something else inside his demonic eyes. Was it… Excitement? Maybe…?

“Oh, little human, you have much to learn then to think some wouldn’t appreciate being slaves to their partner’s will. It is all a matter of pleasure.” His smile, though, immediately made you uncomfortable. If that subject had been mentioned by Vergil, you would definitely answer with a sassy smile and state that, in a matter of fact, you did know about that – and see where that conversation with your devilish partner would get you. But with Erlach…? It sounded more like a warning rather than anything else. Definitely a red flag waving in front of you. “The other soul does get something in return – some very important things in Hell: protection and status. Desecrating the partner of one of the most powerful demons to ever live could easily be a death sentence to whatever demon foolish enough to do so.”

“If that is the case, and I am bonded to Vergil, I wonder how foolish you have to be to willingly kidnap and forcefully wed the partner of the King of Hell.”

You wouldn’t admit it out loud. You wouldn’t even say it in front of Dante and Nero. Whenever the subject decided to appear, you just nodded, agreeing with the others that what Vergil did was horrifying and terribly wrong.

But you couldn’t deny the power trip on the rare occasions you decided to flex Vergil’s King of Hell title.

It had its perks.

“Only foolish if I don’t finish the ritual in time, my little human. I was also careful enough to find myself some leverage.” Erlach immediately waved at the door, referring to Kyrie. You didn’t want to sigh in acknowledgement, but that was enough to at least try to put some halt in Vergil’s murderous rampage. Or to make Nero hold his father on a leash if Vergil just decided to recklessly kill everything on sight. You had some serious concerns those demons heavily understated Vergil’s power. “I had no intentions to let Orcus partake in this ritual but I did need a brute to carry out most of the killing; it would be terribly boring.” With those words, Erlach approached enough to stop right in front of you. At any moment you flinched or decided to walk back, even if everything in your being wanted to put some very good distance between the both of you. Preferably a Vergil of distance. “Therefore, he can bind himself to the weakest of partners. The grandson of Sparda clearly isn’t as attuned to power as Sparda’s spawns.”

“Only a demon would think a human heart is weaker than a devil’s will.” You scoffed in response, raising your head once even higher – in part to be able to look at Erlach directly in his eyes. Vergil’s gaze could cut like the sharpest of ice, and you had seen those silvery eyes in their worst. Erlach’s gaze was nothing compared to the Dark Slayer. “Maybe that was the source of Sparda’s power, have you ever thought of that?”

You would never throw a demon lord like Erlach at Kyrie, but you were quite certain he wouldn’t appreciate the truth to your words and would never turn to the crew’s little angel as the most powerful of partners. Demons could be quite predictable in your book.

“Hmmm. Maybe humans measure their status through empathy, but in Hell…” Erlach’s eyes leveled with yours, his head bowing to be able to share his gaze with you – and, instead of fear, he found something else… Something closer to pride. You were the counterpart of the King of Hell after all, weren’t you? You would never bow your head and lose your crown, Erlach was beginning to understand that. And appreciate that. “We measure through power. And you carry quite the power within you, dearest human. Vergil, the Son of Sparda, wouldn’t accept any less with all the titles he carries. He is part demon, after all.”

That was some food for thought that had never crossed your mind before. Yes, Vergil was partly human, but without a doubt, it was Dante who got most of Eva’s heart. Vergil always took pride in his demonic heritage and power, and always found solace in that – he slowly came to terms with his own humanity and learned to appreciate the human heart, but the thirst for power ran deep in his demonic veins. He did see something in you more than your human empathy… Or else, his devil would never consider bowing to you.

“Hmmm. If all you search is power then, you can always betray Orcus and perform the ritual only for yourself.” You had a spark of sharp intelligence in your eyes, making Erlach widen his smile as the words poured from your lips. “Surely a creature like you wouldn’t mind some backstabbing and murder to keep all the power to yourself.”

“Oh, my sweet temptation, I have to say, I love the way you think…!” Now his voice had a trail of smoldering lust that not even you could deny it was there. Yes, you were trying to manipulate the demon into killing Orcus and leaving only one demon lord for you to deal with – which would make your life quite easy – and probably releasing Kyrie while at it. But you never expected your little game to backfire so gloriously: perhaps Vergil was right when he said you still had a thing or two to learn about his kind. “And I know what you are trying to do – very exciting. A battle of wits and manipulation with a devil, you are truly fearless.” You didn’t think Erlach couldn’t approach you even more, but there he was, towering over you in a way you could almost feel his hot breath on your face. Even if you wanted to void-teleport Vergil right between you at that very moment, you wouldn’t back down – it wasn’t in you. “When all this started, I thought only to bond with a powerful creature of human blood – now… You have proven to be spellbounding, sweet sweet creature. I see what Vergil saw in you: all the cleverness, might, strength, wits; all that fire.” With those words, Erlach offered you his hand, with those fiery eyes staring inside your soul. “I will take you as my partner, but you can do it willingly. I will give you protection and you will be royalty in Hellish realms. You will rule by my side: everything we want is ours for the taking, and anything you ask, I will give you. Kingdoms, realms, worlds. Every living creature that has ever taken a breath will bow to us – the world is mine and yours to rule… You just have to say yes.”

Erlach’s words took you by surprise – your head spun and you thought soon your feet wouldn’t know how to keep you stable on the floor. Your plans backfiring was a serious understatement. You never gave Erlach a reason to like you: on the contraire, you only gave him reasons to be extremely annoyed and suspicious of any and all of your actions. He had no hidden agendas in his words, as far as you could see, and it was extremely obvious what was going on.

You just didn’t expect that to happen, out of all the outcomes of that night.

“Why would I do that when I am already royalty?” Your answer, though, came back with the icy stare you learned from your beloved blue devil, crossing your arms once more and raising your head high just like he used to do. It wasn’t something you did consciously – with time, people develop some mannerisms of their loved ones, and you were no different.

You just got Vergil’s arrogance – and you were more than ready to pay for your tongue. That little game between you and Erlach had already gone too far: you had spotted a few things in the room you could use as a weapon and you were ready to go feral if he attacked you because of your insolence.

You were disarmed, though, when Erlach started laughing – a laugh of pure delight.

“I will have to steal, then. Just like Paris did to Helen of Troy.”

“But remember: an entire kingdom burned just so that King Menelaus could have Helen of Sparta back.”

“Indeed, Beautiful Helen. I shall keep that in mind.” With those words, Erlach’s rough hands took one of yours by force and placed a sharp kiss on your soft skin – that seemed to burn like a lingering fire even after you were teleported back to your improvised cell.

You had to sit down. You had to sit down. That night was already becoming quite the ride – and you thought your Halloween nights couldn’t be even wilder than the ones you had already had so far. But there you were, proven wrong, by a demon lord with a crazy ancient ritual that required a demonic marriage. You were flabbergasted, shocked, breathless… And a little scared.

Vergil had always warned you not to play with demons – especially with those who were witty enough to answer at your level. You always thought he warned you so you could dodge being fooled and trapped into a deal you never saw coming in the first place – he never told you one of those creatures could develop feelings towards you.

“Y/n? Are you ok?!” Kyrie rushed towards you, sitting by your side on that bench you were before, checking your temperature. You were still staring at some lost point on the ground, clearly questioning your life choices so far. “Y/n! Did he hurt you?! What happened?!”

“I think one of the most absurd things just happened in this lifetime…” You murmured, finally staring back at her with a concerned look – but somewhat empty eyes. Kyrie just had her eyebrows furrowed, because if something worried you then she should be even more worried. “I think a demon lord just fell in love with me.”

“Ooooh, no…” The dread in Kyrie’s voice could be understood by even the most clueless of creatures. She closed her eyes, already foreseeing chaos and destruction. “Vergil is going to go on a rampage.”

Yes. And, honestly, you weren’t looking forward to that.

“I know we are in a hurry…!” Lady was leaning out the open door of the Devil May Cry van while Nico drove furiously right behind Dante’s trail. Screaming at the red devil while on the road wasn’t an easy – nor safe – task, but honestly, Lady had done worse. “But what are you trying to do, cowboy?! Not miss the train?!”

Dante immediately slowed down slightly, just so he could be side by side with the devil hunter he knew since his teen years. Looking up at her, Dante didn’t even have to watch the road to keep on going without running over anything – his demonic insight would make up for that.

“Kinda, Lady.” His answer was a little snarky, even if he didn’t want to. “Hey, kid! How are your instincts with your girl?!”

“Not good, I’ll tell ya that.” Nero growled, almost unable to stand still by Nico’s side. The gunsmith had made a mental note not to bother him through that whole evening: Nero’s fangs were already showing, his eyes had a tinge of gold, and his trigger distortion was already appearing in his voice. If she actually took some time to look at him, she would be able to see claws instead of nails and his hair a little bit longer than usual – almost like they were back in Fortuna. Nico still wasn’t used to half-triggered Nero and she could bet it would take some time. “Kyrie’s heart, she’s anxious. Somethin’s unsettling her. And I don’t like it. At all.”

With those words, Nero finished doing whatever he was doing with Red Queen and his sword clicked back into place, revving up with the engines he had installed long ago.

“If the kid is like that, imagine Vergil.” Dante stated back to Lady and Trish, now leaning by the open door completely unbothered by the speed and the wind. “He’s an idiot, but still, man’s got enough power to level a whole city. He’s an asshat who can control his feelings, alright, but he’s got one hell of a trauma and a thing for protecting. His partner is gone. He’s on a bloodlust rampage, trust me. We gotta get to this place before Vergil, or all hell will break lose.”

“Vergil’s our train. Got it.” Lady immediately turned serious, remembering all the times she had ever seen Vergil fight – and all he could do.

“Nico! Hit the gas pedal! We aren’t gonna get there in time going at this speed.” Trish strutted over the driver’s seat – always keeping an eye on Nero. She knew how half-triggers could be disorienting and dangerous, and she could help in case anything went wrong – after all, she was a full devil and, wanting or not, she could take down Nero in a fight, to some extent, if she ever had to. At least long enough to give Dante time to fight his nephew in a fit of rage.

“Already goin’ as fast as I can, demon lady!” Nico had her cigarette between her teeth and her foot never leaving the gas pedal. Indeed, it was the fastest speed for the van.

“We just gotta give it a spark, then.” With those words, Trish rested one of her hands on the van’s panel, her eyes immediately sparkling with thunderous yellow. Her demonic sparks ran through her body, pooling over her heart and running down her arm, jolting to the van and enveloping it on her signature yellow lighting.

“WOOOOAH!” Nico had to hold her cigarette even tighter, both hands on the wheel as the van seemed to fly on the road. “Are you CRAZY, woman?!”

“Keep your eyes on the road, virtuosa.” And Trish’s own glowing yellow eyes never left the streets. “We’ll make it there on time.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dante couldn’t help but laugh and use part of his own trigger to make Cavaliere go faster, now side by side with the van. “Keep it up, babe!”

They had to make it before Vergil. Dante knew in his heart he was the only one who could speak some logic back to his brother at a moment like that.

“Me and Vergil… We have a thing.”

You and Kyrie were being taken to the main event of the night: the ritual at the center of the derelict cathedral, under the light of the moon and the stars, witnessed by demons and the lost souls on the forgotten cemetery nearby. Barely any stained-glass mosaics were left – but those that were gave the cathedral an eerie tinge of color; like ghosts long gone in a place that was once holy. Your steps echoed on the stony ground, and you could hear the crackling of an enormous bonfire in the distance – as well as see the distorted, tall shadows of the demons taking both of you to your doom.

“I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying it’s a thing.” You sighed, making her hazelnut eyes stare at you with interest as you walked proudly in front of her. The demons forced Kyrie to walk and kept shoving her until you made them only escort you to the ritual with just a stare of authority – she had to admit, you and Vergil were very much alike in some departments. “I can… Sense him sometimes. And he can sense me, whenever he wants to. It has to do with the arcane studies and the fact that we are partners.” You remained silent for a few seconds, closing your eyes for a while to take a deep breath before opening them again. “He can feel my distress. He knows when I’m worried, anxious, in danger.”

“Hmmm… Nero can do that too… I wonder if it’s a family thing.” Kyrie whispered back, not wanting the other demons to hear your conversation. You kept as close to her as possible, but still walking in front of her: if anything happened, it had better happen to you first.

“I wonder the same, too.” You answered with a breathy laugh, seeing the beauty of Vergil’s son being so alike him sometimes – and you wondered if Sparda had the same with Eva; with your heart already knowing the answer. “Sometimes, I feel Vergil’s rage too. His despair. His loneliness. His pain.” You went silent for a while, not really wanting to elaborate on that. It was the first time you were talking about that to someone on the crew – the first time you told Vergil, you had no idea what to do with those emotions and to say it was a roller coaster of a night to both of you, was an understatement. “What I feel is only a shadow of what he feels. And when he feels me, there is no force on Earth that will stop him. He will find me and, if need be, obliterate whatever is causing me trouble.”

“Oh.”

Kyrie finally understood why you said that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When it came to her and Nero, their connection was deep and strong – and she had never seen anything like that before. But, the way you were speaking, it was different with you and Vergil… Maybe even stronger. And, when it came to Vergil, that could be for good or for bad.

You had to wonder how it was with Eva and Sparda. He was a demon, after all, and she was human. If Vergil was already that protective towards you, and that ruthless when it came to his enemies, you could see Sparda destroying entire countries for the woman he loved – being a harbinger of nothing but death, ruin and despair, only to have her feeling safe in his arms once again.

The fall of the city of Troy never made so much sense to you before that moment. Even if in the original story Helen’s heart was taken by Paris, still, Menelaus burned, killed, maimed and destroyed everything in his way just so she could be Helen of Sparta again… You could see Vergil and his father doing the same – but, in yours and Eva’s case, you would be longing to be back into their arms once more.

“Vergil is coming. And he is not in his best shape, emotionally speaking.” You whispered back to Kyrie so she could understand the extent of the situation you were in. “What I just felt, I could kill one of these demons with my bare hands. When Vergil’s here, he will do his best not to hurt you, but he is focused in one thing only so… Get out of his way. And I’m not trying to be rude…”

“I understand.” Kyrie whispered back, carefully noticing the demons eyeing each other. She knew you weren’t really giving her a warning, you were playing a little game: planting seeds of terror and discord so they would tear each other apart from the inside just from being afraid of Vergil. It was a clever move and Kyrie would’ve praised you if she had the chance. “I’ve already seen Nero almost go on a rampage. It really isn’t nice. I hope he doesn’t try to join his father, or there will not be a single rock left standing in this cathedral soon enough.”

She decided to play your game, noticing a slight smile of approval on the corner of your lips. All of you hunters always had smart strategies to deal with the demons you did on a daily basis, but, when you were completely stripped of your weapons just like on that moment, you had to resort to other ways of fighting.

Your scheming had to be put to a halt for a while when you approached the decaying wooden doors that opened your path down the church’s aisle – a moth eaten dark red carpet, now almost black from dirt and time, painting the path you should follow; until you would stand side by side with the devil who kidnapped you, now waiting for your presence by a tall bonfire at the center of the cathedral, illuminating an altar right behind Erlach.

Things suddenly seemed even more serious now and your heart sunk in your chest. As you started to walk down the aisle, the demons watching that hellish ceremony chanted and hit their weapons or claws rhythmically on the stony floor. Kyrie was held by one of the demons who guided you towards the aisle, outside of that madness, but soon to go in after your ritual came to an end – after you got married.

A few seconds after your heart seemed to have sunken on the floor, you felt a rage bubbling inside your chest, threatening to come out of your mouth with an earth shattering scream; running through your body like a violent bolt of lightning, resting on your hands that immediately closed to fists as you raised your head high: for a split second, if you saw anything that could be used as a weapon to cut Erlach’s head off its neck, you would’ve taken it and plunged in like a furious beast.

That lightning, though, dissipated as fast as it ran through your body. You didn’t lose your posture and kept walking with certain, hard steps towards your fate – but that blind bloody rage was gone.

It was Vergil.

You knew it was him. It was right after you had that desperate, desolating feeling of not knowing what to do, of watching that harrowing scene right in front of you and not knowing how to get out… Of feeling trapped like a little mouse on a cage. You felt some of Vergil’s emotions in a very fleeting manner – in a bolt of lightning – but he could feel yours more certainly and longingly. That bloodthirst that ran through your body… It was just a fleeting taste of Vergil’s emotional response to knowing how unsafe you felt.

After all he had been through, protection was a big thing for your blue devil. He silently promised nothing would ever happen to his newfound family now that he was strong enough to protect not only himself, but everyone around him. Knowing you were vulnerable, completely exposed, feeling like prey and he wasn’t around to keep you safe… To say Vergil’s demonic blood was boiling was a great understatement.

“Come, brilliant creature among humans. Midnight is close, and the ritual must be completed.” Erlach offered you his rough, devilish hand so you could take and approach the altar with him – a stone containing a couple of candles and an old golden bow, marked by ancient, dry blood.

You stopped right where you were, not taking his hand, but still staring into his eyes. You were thinking of words of defiance, of improvised weapons, of anything you could do to get you and Kyrie out of there. If you had to fight that demon with hands and teeth, so be it, but you wouldn’t back down – and if it was for you to die, you would die fighting.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a roaring thunder rumbling through the pitch-black skies right above your heads. You couldn’t see any clouds and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain earlier that day, but that ominous thunder roared once more – with a flash of a lightning in the distance cracking down from the sky suddenly illuminating your face as you opened a broad smile. Erlach only eyed you with confusion, taken aback by the sudden prelude of rain.

“A storm is approaching.” Your somber voice did not match the smile across your lips and Erlach’s eyes filled with understanding – even if he himself didn’t think that was possible for only a half-demon like the Dark Slayer. “You have yet time to give up this foolishness before he arrives.”

“I am not scared by a little thunder, human. You shall learn that in time.” The demon decided to ignore the warning on your voice, taking your hand with a little too much strength, already guiding you to the altar.

But you heard whispers – among the other demons, yours and Kyrie's words were being replicated, some of them resting silent while others laughed. With your ominous warning over a simple storm, though, they started to wander… To fear. Was that something done by your lover? Was that the extent of Sparda’s power? The Dark Slayer, the one who escaped from Hell and from his imprisonment by none other than Mundus, was that powerful…? They didn’t know. And some of them, didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, you will learn to be scared.” You whispered, back, slowly going up the few steps that kept you and Erlach far from each other. He conducted you with an iron grip, while the only thing you had in mind was to buy Vergil more time to get to you. “As all of you do.”

“Not if I get the ritual done first.” With those harsh words, Erlach gripped your arm in a way you couldn’t escape, even if his gestures were a lot more flourished than brute. You saw a ritualistic dagger in his other hand and you knew what the next step would be. “Then he shall learn a thing or two about fear.”

His hands moved so fast you didn’t have time to quip back – even if you wanted to answer that, after all Vergil had been through, making him feel fear was quite the achievement. Very few things could frighten his heart and soul… And you were oblivious enough to point out that, Vergil’s protective and enraged response that day was not only out of love, but out of fear of losing you.

Before Erlach could resume cutting your hand to harvest your blood for the bonding ritual, you managed to pierce his arm with a white summoned sword. With that surprise, Erlach dropped the weapon and you took it in your hand – twisting it and approaching him enough to press it against his neck, already making him bleed. You just didn’t manage to kill him because his survival reflexes made him snap our of his surprise and hold your hand against his neck, struggling with you in order to see who would win: you, by taking his life, or him, by taking you as his.

“My King of Hell isn’t the only one who should be feared, demon. You will learn that with time.” Your voice was low and filled with pride, hearing as the other demons immediately started whispering to each other: Orcus and Erlach probably didn’t tell them all the titles your lover carried.

As if to support you, another thunder roared in the skies and a lightning cracked near the desecrated cathedral. Some demons seemed to gasp and become startled, expecting Vergil to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

A few drops of water started to fall on your hair, your face, and run down your hands… And between your lips as you smiled.

“You are indeed a rare one.” But, to your surprise, Erlach smiled back. His sharp nails buried in the skin of your arm holding the knife, making you relax your grip ever so slightly as blood started to run from the wounds he inflicted. “Blood is blood. No matter how I attain it. Alas, I wanted our bonding to be beautiful, but this will do.”

With your blood running down his claws, Erlach grasped the blade on his neck, cutting his own hand even if you didn’t let the dagger go. Reaching out for the golden bowl, you once again tried to stab his neck, but the demon finally let go of your other arm only to hold your hand back. As you both struggled, you did your best to keep his hand away from the bowl, with Erlach already muttering some words in a language long lost to your human ears.

It was your blood already mixed with his. Whatever you did, he couldn’t reach that bowl for anything in this world.

You didn’t notice when the rain became stronger. You didn’t notice when Orcus moved Kyrie away from the door. You didn’t notice when the thunders seemed to roar inside the earth beneath your feet. All your strength was concentrated in keeping Erlach away from the altar, and all his strength was focused on completing the ritual on time.

“Before me all things create were none, save things Eternal, and Eternal I shall endure.*” Oh, you would recognize that voice even if you were dead. The words creeped through the stone walls of the cathedral, accompanied by calm, calculated steps approaching with resolve. The demons’ attentions turned to the rotten door, as well as yours and Erlach’s eyes, finally stopping to struggle. Vergil’s silhouette finally made itself visible, as if he was taken by a cold blue aura in the darkness – his silvery eyes set on you and your foe, one of his hands grasping the hilt of the Yamato as the other kept the sword safe at his side. “Per aspera, ad Inferi.”

There was a change in the air. Your very breath seemed to warp around you as time became slurred and thick. For a few moments it was difficult to breathe, as the storm outside that desecrated place looked like it would start bleeding inside the cathedral. You stumbled back, closer to the altar, dragging Erlach with you – you knew what was coming. Some demons tried to run, others froze in place, while some got ready to fight.

You could see how that cold, fiery blue started to cut the air – a split second before Vergil disappeared and all you could hear was the sound of the Yamato slicing everything in sight. Time stopped for a while, your breath disappeared from your lungs, your heart didn’t beat. You held yourself together as strongly as you could, while Erlach stared at that view with a pair of impressed – or maybe even fearful – eyes.

Vergil appeared once more, now standing a few meters away from you – all he had to do was climb the steps to finally reach you. Placing Yamato in its sheath, Vergil took a few long seconds to get the shiny blade to slide down and, with a click, make most of the demons – and whatever decoration that was left standing – fall apart in piles of flesh and blood.

You didn’t want to say you had warned them, but well… You had warned them.

“You’re too late, Dark Slayer.” With those words, Erlach reached the bowl – now even closer than before, since you dragged him back not to be so close to a judgement cut of that magnitude. His words were like a bell, waking you up to the reality that a single drip of your mixed blood in the gold, and it would all be over.

But Vergil unsheathed Yamato once again, as fast as he moved down the aisle to reach you, and the golden bowl was cut in half – cracking in some places, gold dust spilling at your feet.

“You should learn, demon, some things can never be taken by force.” Vergil’s voice was like a velvety murmur in the dark – and you knew, the quieter he grew, the more time he had to marinate his anger. “Love, is one of them. Respect, is another.”

Those silvery eyes finally landed on yours, as a faint smile spread across your lips. Love would be nothing without respect, and Vergil argued that earning your respect was one of the most honorable things you could have graced him with – not that the love was not of importance, but if you had never come to respect him, the love you shared would have never flourished… And the reciprocate was true.

“Well, well, looks like we’ve arrived in time.” You heard Dante sighing by the door, guns already on his hands. “Big bad demon is all yours, Verge. We’ll handle things back here.”

“Kyrie!” And you barely saw Nero as he ran towards Orcus with all the rage of the world in his eyes, slicing demons in the way with a revved up Red Queen and leaving a trail of fire behind him. Sometimes he was a lot like his own father, but other times, his uncle's heritage shined through.

Vergil didn’t even look back at the crew already killing the demons who fought and who tried to run away – he only had eyes for you and the filthy creature holding you in its arms.

“Last time I saw you, my whips cracked on that soft skin of yours, spawn of Sparda.” And for the first time that night, you heard some more emotion on Erlach’s voice – something close to hate. Maybe he wasn’t as controlled as he said he was… Maybe he was prone to violence after all. “You tried your best to hold back your tears as your filthy blood tainted the floors of Hell. But everything cracks, eventually.”

A jolt of pain burned across your skin on your back as if you were naked, as fast as a bolt of lightning. You couldn’t help but to wince at the feeling, even if Vergil and Erlach remained immobile. In a fraction of a second, you understood a little of that pain, of a memory in the back of Vergil’s head that came back like a kick in the stomach, and it seemed not to affect him at all – but you knew, you could feel what he didn’t show.

The pain was fleeting, but the anger wasn’t – that was yours and yours only. As you suddenly flinched, you took advantage of that moment of surprise to move your arms once again and the strength of your boiling anger to slash Erlach as you could, eager to take a piece of him… Eager to kill him after the suffering he put your lover through.

“Everything cracks indeed.” You murmured as he took one of his hands to his face, noticing the considerable gash you opened on his cracked skin – now pouring blood profusely. “Next, I will cut your tongue.”

You heard a quick chuckle from Vergil, silvery eyes observing you with so much pride – and a little of something else. Pride was always easy to see in him: the way he carried himself, the way he posed with his head high, the way his eyes admired that which he respected and loved… But care was a different thing. If you were looking at your lover, it would take you some time to notice, but his admiration for you was never ending behind his pride to be able to call you his.

“I do understand how you came to love this human, that I will admit.” Erlach hissed back at Vergil, licking his own blood from his fingers. Risking a glance at the cathedral, the demon assessed the situation: the bowl was broken, the demons were all but destroyed, fleeing from the weapons of Dante, Lady and Trish, Nero had Kyrie back in his arms and Orcus was nowhere to be seen. “I truly underestimated the depth of your feelings for such a fragile creature.”

“Eloquent words, but no wisdom behind them.” Vergil’s response was prideful as always, as he walked the small set of steps to reach you – and probably slice Erlach apart. “Fragile is far from what I would use to describe y/n. I will burn bridges, destroy cities, crush entire empires to protect those whom I love and respect. There is nothing of fragile in that.” Pointing Yamato at Erlach, the blade almost touched the wound you inflicted in the demon’s neck. “You should remember that as I kill you for this insolence, pitiful scum.”

His stern eyes glinted with a tint of blue, as Vergil’s teeth were already sharp in fangs. His hands around the Yamato already started to resemble claws and his voice, even if you would love it in all of its iterations, had that distinct demonic distortion. His blue fire engulfed him like a faint shadow, but it did make your lover look even taller than he already was. On the brink of his humanity, it would take only a spark to make him burst into his demonic form.

“King of Hell.” You mouthed at Erlach while pointing at Vergil right in front of you, as if to prove a point – the point you wanted to prove from the beginning: no matter what those demons did, Vergil was stronger and more powerful than all of them together.

And, of course, you could use another rush of power whenever you flexed that title. You just hoped no one else in the crew would see it: you’d be in for some harsh judgement if they did.

“I shall remember for the next time we meet, son of Sparda.” Erlach turned his fiery eyes to you. “And I shall see you again, brilliant Helen.”

With those words, the demon used its own blood for an incantation to flee a battle he would definitely lose – a smart move, even if you didn’t know where he went… And if that ominous warning was not something you would have wanted to hear. You would prefer to see him dead.

“Hmmm… Bold of this creature to assume it could steal your love like foolish Paris.” Vergil had to murmur under his breath, immediately turning around to face you, Yamato quickly back on its sheath. Before you could say anything, Vergil took your hand in his with a surprising gentle touch, only so he could analyze the bloody scratches on your arm – as well as allow his silver eyes to burn with wrath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only wound. You don’t need to worry, Vergil.�� Your answer, though, made his eyes fly to look into yours as if you had said one of the most jarring things he had ever heard.

“I will always worry about you. You know that.”

He didn’t have to say, you could feel it. You had felt his worrying ever since he had learned it was Erlach who kidnapped you and wanted to complete that mad bonding ritual. Vergil’s worry was in his fear of losing whatever love he managed to have in that godforsaken life of his, and that usually manifested in an unparalleled anger in him. All that wrath… It was one of the highest praises you could ever get from your lover.

Placing both of your hands to cradle his face, you didn’t allow Vergil to keep on speaking as you pressed your lips against his. It was one of the most effective ways you could rest that flame inside his heart and bring him some peace – the same way the droplets of rain seemed to want to wash away all the blood and fury of that night. It took him a couple of seconds to start melting under your touch, arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to his body, as your kiss quieted the fear that burned inside his heart.

You parted from his lips, even if Vergil himself didn’t seem to want to do so. His breathing, though, was already going back to a normal pace and you couldn’t feel his fangs under your lips anymore. As those silvery eyes stared back at you, the blue tinges were gradually gone. You took your hands to his hair, taking the rebellious strands that were already falling on his vision and brushing them back into his usual hairstyle – and Vergil even allowed himself to thank you with a soft smile.

“I cannot help but wonder, though…” He finally murmured, voice back to his dark tone with no traces of his demonic side showing up. “What, in the name of the gods, you are wearing.”

“Apparently, this hideous thing is what demons consider a wedding attire.” You sighed back, still in his embrace. You refused to look down and see yourself in that ridiculous thing again. “I wanted to get rid of it, but alas, the other option was to be completely naked.”

“Hmmm…” You didn’t know if Vergil hummed or growled, but you did know he was quite unpleased by that sight – almost as much as you. Taking your hand, Vergil guided you around the enormous bonfire behind the altar, in a place the crew couldn’t see you. “Don’t move.”

Before you could even ask what he had in mind, the air around you warped and your clothes fell on the ground after a quick and clean judgment cut.

That was a way to solve things, but…

“My clothes…”

Vergil immediately took off his coat, wrapping it around you and keeping you close, helping you dress it and hold it closed in front of you. It was a lot bigger than your form, and definitely a heavy piece of clothing, but it smelled like him – and that was one of the things that could always calm the distress in your heart.

“We will find your clothes. But you cannot walk around dressed like a clown.” With you still in his arms, Vergil placed a rather long kiss on your forehead, catching you by surprise.

A nice surprise that made you smile.

“On that, I agree with you. If we were ever to get married, I would have never worn such a thing.” You whispered back, making him chuckle while staring into your eyes again. Sometimes, the ice in his silver stare seemed to melt for a while, just like at that moment.

“You would be a beautiful sight to see.” His answer was also a whisper, and a rather unexpected one: that was something you never expected Vergil to say. He often mentioned how Sparda marrying Eva was a blessing to him and a curse to her, even if you insisted on arguing that probably wasn’t true; but you would never expect Vergil, of all people, would have imagined you on a wedding day… With him.

“Hey! Are you both makin’ out behind that bonfire? C’mon, it’s not time for that, Verge! Did mom never teach you to have manners?”

Dante’s voice interrupted whatever you could say in response, as Vergil already started to growl in annoyance at what his twin brother was implying. You headed back to the crew, twins ready to start bickering once again, as always. You saw Kyrie wearing Nero’s coat and couldn’t help but giggle – like father like son.

You sighed, finding Vergil’s fingers and entangling his between yours – his touch reciprocating immediately. It was time to go home.

“Your fingers are cold.”

Vergil held your hands close to him as you waited for the crew to drive back to the shop. Nico was smoking behind the wheel and you took some time to rest as everyone tried to find what the demons stole from you and Kyrie as well as where they found out about that binding ritual – or demonic marriage, as you began to enjoy calling it.

Your lover couldn’t stay away from you for too long, though. He came back after a little while, not wanting to admit he was too worried to leave you alone for more then a couple of minutes – even if you were with Nico.

He would argue if something bad happened, you would be the one doing the saving while Nico would be screaming around and trying to run demons over… And you couldn’t really disagree with him on that.

“Well, it’s part of my human condition.” You smiled back as Vergil had his mouth close to your hands, trying to warm them up with his breath. On the other hand, there was your blue devil, arms completely naked under his leather vest, oblivious to the weather. “I can’t keep myself warm while naked under a snowstorm like some.”

“Well, I cannot either.” Even if his eyes were a little harsh upon looking at you, there was also some amusement hidden underneath the ice. “Although I would survive enough to get you to safety.”

Vergil’s eyes went back to your hands while you kept on observing how he occupied himself with the task of warming you. His lips were close enough so you could feel them ghosting over your fingers, but never touching your skin. His rough hands cradled yours with a touch so gentle one would never expect from the likes of him. Everything about Vergil screamed danger, but when it came to you, it was completely opposite.

“I wished so bad you would find me.” You finally whispered, keeping your eyes close. Feelings weren’t easy for the both of you; somehow, you found that closing your eyes while being around only him was easier to allow your heart to open – and there were times Vergil did the very same thing when talking to you. “I… I did my best not to seem frightened. Kyrie needed me to stay strong, the demons couldn’t know and have the upper hand. But I was scared. I was lost. And I wished, deep inside my heart, you’d somehow find me in the darkness.”

“I know.” His answer was quiet, hands still wrapped around yours. You could feel Vergil’s breath as he spoke, slowly opening your eyes to find his looking back at your once again. “I know. No matter where you are, I will always find you.”

For a few seconds, the air lacked in your lungs and the words in your mouth. If you weren’t alone, you would’ve fought the tears that marinated your eyes, even if you didn’t want them to fall – they would rest there, making it seem like you were observing Vergil with a whole universe in yourself, just for him. And he would always appreciate that.

“As soon as I felt your rage, I knew you were coming.” You confided back, making him furrow his brows for a while. “I happen to be pretty good at energy work, Vergil. Remember sometimes I get to feel you back? I did today. And that’s when I knew I was safe.”

The last pieces of the puzzle arranged themselves in Vergil’s head: of course, when he got the strongest emotions from you, it was easier for you to get his. But when his emotions were too strong, that connection could work as well, for better or for worse – and he remembered how you flinched in the cathedral when Erlach mentioned how he tortured Vergil… When he was taken aback for a few moments suddenly feeling that pain he tried so hard to forget.

It was a shame you had to feel that too – his eyes went down to your hands while his eyebrows furrowed now from annoyance rather than confusion.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered back, placing your fingers under his chin and making Vergil look back into your eyes. “I’m here for the good, the bad and the ugly – no matter how harrowing it gets. You can always rely on me, as I know I can always rely on you.”

“As long as time will have us be together.”

Vergil’s murmured response was crowned with a gentle kiss on your hands, making you smile softly in return. You knew he was still annoyed with the fact you felt the worst of his emotions, but at least you were safe – and, for now, he would have to settle for that. You just hoped one day Vergil understood you didn’t see those terrible things that happened to him as a flaw, but as something he didn’t have to carry quietly on his own.

It just made you respect him even more than you already did.

“You don’t realize what you are, do you…?” Your question was a little absent as you kept on observing his stern face, with those silvery eyes now staring at you in confusion and distress: his heart beating a little faster, concluding you finally came to your senses that you had decided to give your love to a devil. “You deem yourself as one of the cruelest and worst creatures to ever walk the earth, but you don’t realize… Demons don’t protect their loved ones like you did today.”

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making Vergil instinctively hold your waist so you wouldn’t lose your balance. All the while, you never allowed those vulnerable silver eyes to leave yours.

“Angels do.”

As you placed your lips on his, Vergil’s embrace held you tightly against him – and even after you parted, he remained holding you, his head hidden in your shoulders and your hair. Vergil was silent and didn’t make a single noise, but you could feel the tears leaking into your mouth during the kiss and later dropping on your neck.

His heart could take a lot of harshness and cruelty, pain and torture, without even flinching. But this time… It was the first time in his life that Vergil was seen as good.

And his heart wasn’t used to that.

----

*Inferno, by Dante Allighieri

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may halloween #SO MUCH HAPPENING ON THIS #but for some reason I remembered when I was playing DMC4 with Vergil for the first time #having the hero music blasting on the back with Vergil saving the day #I found myself almost crying thinking 'this man hasn't had a DAY of rest in his life and probably was NEVER seen as good or as a hero'#and made me think how MUCH Vergil needs that #he needs to hear he's an angel sometimes #that would DESTROY this man #being tortured? fine #dragging his dying body out of hell? been there done that #having his lover tell him he's good? man is a crying mess on the floor not knowing what to do with this thing inside his chest #(it's called heart silly)

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polarisbibliotheque · 25 days

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Writing Vergil's part on the Halloween special and Vergil's s/o flexing his title every now and then like

Seriously if my partner was king of hell I wouldn't shut up about it, you guys have to forgive me

#polaris speaks #writing shenanigans #just wanted to leave this sort of little update here #I'm on the proofreading part of posting #but hey I'll be posting it TODAY #I'm actually going to start working on it as soon as I finish this post #but seriously every time his s/o goes like 'KING OF HELL' on that fic #I was picturing this exact Elizabeth scene from Pirates of the Caribbean #have that in mind and you're all good to go xD

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polarisbibliotheque · 28 days

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Little Updates! + Music-Fics-Requests

Hello my dear angels, devils, humans and in-between creatures of the day and the night, I hope you are all doing wonderfully :)

So. I'm still behind on my writing/posting schedule because, to put it very mildly, I've been going through a breakdown hahahaha last month, it was my birthday which I don't quite enjoy, and a few days later my dad suffered an accident - and that, my dear cryptids, triggered chaos and crisis in my life HAHAHAHA

I used to be a skeptic of the earth-shattering powers of Saturn's Return when you reach your 30s, but lo and behold, it didn't take Saturn even a WEEK to make itself known

My dad is fine health-wise, but it was quite traumatic for me and I'm still trying to figure things out regarding the repercussions of everything that happened. So, things have slowed down a LOT when it comes to EVERYTHING in my life while I'm trying to put it all back into place.

I'm tip-toeing around the details 'cause I really don't want to openly talk about it, like I said, still going through the motions

I DO WANT TO WRITE THOUGH, I MISS IT.

I've said it before, writing is my therapy. I'm finishing last year's Vergil Halloween special, and I will be posting soon, I hope.

But I've been wanting to do the music writing thing again! SO!

For now, I'm gonna take my last year's Spotify Wrapped playlist as I've done before, but I want to add some songs didn't make the cut last year Ghost I'm staring at you, so I'll just make a playlist for writing here, with a bunch of songs I think would be nice/fun/interesting for the Spardaverse HAHAHA

SO! HOW ARE WE GONNA DO IT?

Just send me an ask, with a number and a character - just remember, I write Dante and Vergil with y/n s/o and Nero with Kyrie.

For now, I'll be doing just the three of them, but if you are an unhinged little fella and suggest something with another character that ends up having an interesting song attached to it, I might write it as well, ask at your own risk *side eyes*

Let the memes come

That's it. I just wanna go back to having a little fun with writing again and once I'm stuck again in survival mode after all that happened in the last couple of weeks, this little music game might help ^^

And it might be fun for you too! Oh, do put something like "hey, it's for the music-fic ask" so I know what's about as well! I might get lost on my asks forgive me

Hope to write a lot more so I can get back onto my bigger projects soon, like Nemesis and Survivor's Blood! I won't give up on them, I just need some ~time~

Hope to see you guys on my asks!!

#polaris speaks #update #life update #writing update #music fic requests #I've to come up with a better name for that #also don't worry too much about me #I don't do well with feelings and oversharing them or even sharing #so the best thing I can do for now is getting back into writing I think #eventually I hope I'll figure things out #(that dean line 'if someone else asks me how I'm feeling I'm gonna start throwing punches' is real)#(this man raised me to be tough and go through the motions when I was a teen HAHAHAHA he's here for a REASON xD)

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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#for my american followers #currently dealing with medical stuff #at this very moment #so feels a little godsend that this post appeared AGAIN in my dash #Apollo and Artemis my dearests sending not so subtle messages to pay it forward #polaris speaks

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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#just passing by to casually thank you all for existing #you are more important to people than you realise #and you truly make a difference to me #polaris speaks

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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Oh, one of you beautiful creatures liked this post from 2022 and it just goes to show it's a pattern I haven't grown from

It's April 2024 and I STILL haven't learned my own lesson of "always save your fucking files, kids"

(I've grown from somewhat cute angry panda to Thomas Shelby questioning life, though)

At least I was able to recover the file with @furyeclipse help and it's safe and sound for now

On another side note, though: in 2022, it turned off on its own and it wouldn't start again for dear life until the next day, hence why I thought of overheating; this time, in 2024, it just turned off and as soon as I turned it on again, it came back as if NOTHING happened

So, after a long time, I was writing.

And see, I really like how it was going. A little Vergil x reader, something quick, to come back slowly to my writing.

Angsty too, pardon me

Out of nowhere, my laptop turns off. Completely on its own. Just because.

And here I am now, looking at it and laughing manically, precisely like our dearest Harley Quinn, thinking "oh boy, Word and Office, you better have saved my work so far with your demand of being connected to the internet 24/7 or all hell will break loose :D"

Plus, it seems like my laptop won't start again for quite a while. This is the downside of living somewhere so hot: all your electronics overheat and give up on you for a while

Thats me and my laptop right now

#polaris speaks #writer problems #it's a recurring thing #it's writer's karma

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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Me: happy, thriving, pouring words like a madwriter because I FINALLY had a good idea to re-work and re-write a dark fantasy vampire story I've been working on for 15 years

My PC: suddenly crashes and screen goes black, dead

Me:

My PC:

Me:

My PC:

Me:

Me: gods I didn't save the fucking file

Always save your fucking files, kids.

Even more if you're an ancient being like me who prefers to type and doesn't like to write directly on cloud storage like Google Drive or something

#there's so much disappointment in my heart right now #there aren't enough words in any human language to describe #may the error of my ways be a cautionary tale for other writers #polaris speaks #writing advice #writer problems #now seriously you'd think I'd be prepared for that already #'cause I art as well and photoshop is the most unreliable bitch in the world #never underestimate the power of technology to crash at the most uncalled for moment

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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Okay, so, looks like Google Docs might actually start implementing their rule about not sharing explicit content. (This includes writing.) How in the ever loving fuck am I supposed to back up 1,000+ stories that equate to 3 million+ words into fucking Microsoft Word????? And efficiently, for that matter?! HELP.

#sharing for all the infos contained here #it's always good to have a more 'physical' backup of your files #meaning a backup you don't have to rely in a company hosting them in a cloud #good ol' 90s tech when we burned CDs and discs with lots of files #old but efficient #also you guys know I don't do extremely explicit stuff #be it art or writing #('cause I'm bad at it :D)#but this witch hunt with explicit content is getting on my nerves #I feel like doing it just out of SPITE

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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A bit about the comic I'm working on - Weisse Rose!

Hello my dearest cryptids! Today I'm here to spread the word of our lord and savior, mothman

Ok, ok, not starting a weird cryptid cult yet but I've been commenting sparsely about a comic I've been thinking about, designing and trying to get on paper for the last year but never REALLY talked about it...

Lo and behold, it's called Weisse Rose - and I made a tumblr just for it, @weisserose-comic !

I haven't posted anything yet, but I've been planning to get it ~out there~ around April. Of course, my health got the best of me and I would have to postpone my plans yet again, but I decided to work with what I got a vastly decaying body that I keep fighting against almost 24/7 this bitch

The main vibes I want with Weisse Rose is David Bowie's song, Heroes. On this post, I'll tell you a little about the characters and overall story I want to work on - because I love blabbering about character development and endless writing :')

And hey, you may also like this sort of story from me and decide to read it eventually!

So, Weisse Rose - the main idea I had was "a bunch of punks punching nazis and I've gotta find some plot to it". And well, found the plot, it's a lot more than punks punching nazis, but this soul is still there hahahaha

I decided to write it because my country is increasingly leaning to the far-right, nazi movements are getting stronger by the day, censorship is leaning over our heads like the ghost of a far-right leaning military dictatorship we had less than 40 years ago in my country, we were on the brink of a coup d'état for another far-right dictatorship by a madman and, honestly, it's scary. I'm scared.

I've had some pretty bad disappointments with politics and life over the last 5 years and what I'm currently watching is so harrowing - it gets even worse that everyone I live around seem to be ok with it. The classic "it doesn't affect me, I'm not gonna fight against it". And I needed to find a way to cope with ALL this maddening politics and extremist groups everywhere we're living with nowadays.

Enter Weisse Rose.

✨Overall Story✨

The story is about five 25 to 30 something year olds who are trying to find themselves in an increasingly hatred filled, fascist leaning world that seems to want to get rid of their very existence and only make their life miserable while claiming to uphold "morals, values, family, religion and the true beliefs in a world filled with filth".

The five characters - Martin, Diana, Santiago, Wasima and Wollfe - play together in a band (goth? punk? metal? industrial?) and will do everything in their power to go against the increasing censorship while trying to figure out how to pay the bills, have their own lives, deal with their traumas and flaws, navigate the world as alternative people, discover what they want for a living and try to make the most of it.

Also realizing that love is the only thing that can go against hate, how cliché

And it all starts with Marty being evicted because of noise complaints and an ass of a landlord, running to Diana to ask for help more like yell at her that he's homeless and desperate

I think I'll tell most of it through Marty's POV, kinda like he's the main character...? I don't know, I like everyone and EVERYONE'S THE MAIN CHARACTER, PERIOD. But well:

✨Meet the Characters✨

Marty (guitar/vocals/chaos) is a very loud and energetic guy, the nice one you'd give your life for, kinda chill but will get in a fight if you annoy him enough. Has a hard time setting boundaries and is constantly used because of his big kind heart bless his soul T-T. Has enough energy to power a whole city though, while...

Diana (drums/punching nazis) is the tsundere™ of the band, loves everyone but will never really say it, and has Marty glued to her like their life depend on it. She is the fire to his gasoline, so to speak, and is very easy to get in a fight - constantly seen in fistfights and needing backup and/or Marty to get her out of there alive and care for her wounds. Strong but caring personality, that's why she has a "platonic hate" relationship with...

Wollfe (guitar/vocals 2/manwhore) is the tall, dark and handsome™ of the group, but honestly the walking trash-boy you should never give a shot. Serial womanizer, will only have sex and doesn't do relationships 'cause trauma BUT extremely loyal and WILL go above and beyond for the people he truly loves. Diana and Wollfe have the platonic hate relationship but, still, he's the first one who's always backing her up in fights bless his 6'2 body and is always being a flirty bitch with every single walking thing alongside...

Wasima (DJ/synths/siren), or Mata Hari, the well known LGBTQ+ underground club DJ - a powerhouse of a woman, can get every single human on their knees, can and will use her beauty and looks to kill if she wants to. Happy fun-loving lesbian, is always playing at a different club and dragging Diana along so she can teach her how to have some fun... And to have a nice bodyguard too. She would be the daughter of Aphrodite and Diana would be the daughter of Ares, so they happily see each other as sisters - just like Wasima sees a brother in...

Santiago (bass/chill/band Jesus), otherwise known as Jesus because, well... He looks like Jesus. Is from Roma family descent and is the chill, free soul of the group - peace, love and please let's not get into fights. Behind that calm and Jesus-like personality, lies the man who, when they get to play, always power-stands by Diana's side on the drums and headbangs furiously with her, making the most vicious, heaviest music they've ever heard. Will hug everyone afterwards, though.

All of them have their own bunch of problems. Wasima is arabic and insecure about everyone around her, Santiago is of roma descent and still struggling with acceptance and what he wants, Diana is an immigrant in the country they live and has some serious health issues, Wolffe is a runaway with one hell of a difficult and abusive family and Marty is a neglected kid who left home trying to find himself.

They all have a reason to be persecuted in increasingly far-right leaning politics and countries - they all have reasons to be hated by fascists, nazis and whatever other extremist groups you can think of.

So yeah, things will start nice, but there are so many things lingering under the surface that, sooner or later, they will have to deal with.

And that's what I want to write about on Weisse Rose!

✨And why "Weisse Rose", you might ask?✨

It's the name of an anti-nazi resistance created during WWII in Germany - the White Rose, in English. We tend to remember the people who endorsed the extremist views and who committed horrible crimes, but we end up forgetting the ones who stood up for the right thing. The Weisse Rose did - I know the last thing they'd want is a story about a bunch of chaotic punks fighting far-right politics, but still... It's a little nod to the guts they had to fight back.

Because hell, now I get it. It must've been SO scary doing what they did. And they went out there and did anyway, they resisted. They called out crimes. They called out racism. They called out dehumanizing of so many people. And they must've been so scared. I know I am.

By no means I think my little comic will be this huge Resistance Act™, but it's my way of coping, resisting and not shutting up when I'm seeing so much happening and feel like I can't say anything.

Maybe I can't, but Weisse Rose can. And I'll be writing, drawing and all that - even if slowly because of my health. But I will do it!

If you think it might be for you, if you're curious and want to know more about it, support and read this other story I'll put out there, do follow @weisserose-comic ! I'll be posting more things about the characters, sketches, little illustrations and, hopefully, the first chapter quite soon!

Disclaimer: I feel like I should say this though; as you guys may have noticed, it'll be 18+. I'm not inclined to censor things on this comic nor avoid delicate/taboo subjects. I will ask a lot of media literacy and interpretation, though, because I won't be explaining/making things horribly obvious. It would kinda defeat the whole purpose of the comic if I did that: the characters are flawed, I'm not romanticizing anything, people are complex, and shit will hit the fan basically hahahaha if it's not your cup of tea, you can always not drink it ;)

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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I AM ALSO SO HAPPY YOU ENJOYED IT, FEEL LOVED BACK <3

HAHAHAHA what baffles me the MOST is how some silly little fanfic I wrote because I was LOSING MY MIND from having to hunt down mosquitos all day got so much love.

I'm just glad I lost my sanity to bring you all fluff happiness <3

THANK YOU FOR READING AND LOVING IT, you just made a writer smile :D

Dante & Vergil with their s/o hunting bloodthirsty mosquitoes (+Nero with Kyrie doing the same)

Pairings: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader; Nero x Kyrie Summary: Oh, summer. Heatwaves, short clothes, ice cream... And mosquitoes. A human hunting down a mosquito is one thing, but a half-demon? Well, those little hellish beings better be ready for it. Author's notes: You're probably thinking yours truly lost all her sanity, and you're probably right. It's the second day of spring here where I live and it's so freaking hot, the only thing I've been able to eat the last few days was ice cream. It's usually hot as hell here in Brazil, but not this time of the year - December/January/February are the most unbelievably hot months in my city. And, of course, the mosquitoes have to rise from hell itself to buzz in your ears while you try to sleep and suck your blood, ginving you terrible rashes in the morning. I killed four of them the past two days and yesterday, I had to enlist my sister to help hunt one of them down. This little fic might have something to do with that incident xD

I had to write something and laugh at all those goofs trying to be functional normal humans. That's it. It's all ridiculous fluff and laughs while melting from too much heat, hope you guys enjoy ^^

Dante

“Ya know, if ya clap those really fast, you might summon a demon.”

You just looked back at Dante with murder in your eyes.

The red devil stood by the stairs, having his arms crossed and leaning by the guardrail, that characteristic grin spreading across his lips.

You wanted to throw the flip flops in your hands right at his face – maybe that would get rid of that insufferable cocky smile.

Sometimes you understood Vergil in a soul level.

“If said demon decimates the freaking mosquito who’s been testing my sanity for the past hour, I’m all in.” You turned your eyes back to the ceiling, searching for that single little thing that took peace away from you that day.

The shop wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, that you had to admit, but the last couple of days were hotter than the layers of fire in Hell itself – Vergil would argue, but even he realized it wasn’t wise to discuss with you when you were melting faster than an ice cream on asphalt.

The heat, however, brought along the mosquito wave.

Hence why you were on the top of Dante’s desk, barefoot, sporting your peak summer style, flip flops ready to kill. Hearing Dante making fun of that situation wasn’t really aligned to your mood at that moment.

“Eh, already…?” Dante still had the smile plastered on his lips, casually approaching the desk. He was one to talk: given how hot it was, he was wearing only his pants, completely barefoot and shirtless – and even then, you questioned how he could walk around with those heavy, black pants without falling apart. “Thought these little fuckers would take a lot more time to appear.”

“Well, apparently they thought the same and figured a surprise attack would be more efficient.” You just heard his giggle as you kept on looking everywhere near the ceiling, round and round the desk. Dante rested his arms on it, casually looking up to watch you.

He couldn’t deny, it was funny. All that made him smile and relax: it was so mundane, so… Human. To think one day he’d be at his shop with his most beloved being in all dimensions, worrying about heatwaves and nagging mosquitoes; watching as you practically danced around on his desk, hunting mosquitoes with all the might in the world. As if you both didn’t hunt demons for a living.

As if life was just like that… Perfectly mundane.

“You give’em more credit than they deserve, babe.” Dante leaned his head in one of his hands, watching you with dreamy eyes. At the peak of your annoyance, you never thought the son of Sparda would look at you so lovingly – then again, he wasn’t an ordinary man.

“Oh, I don’t think so, hot stuff.” Your answer was mindless, making Dante open a huge, radiant smile, sparkling as much as his eyes. “Those things come directly from the layers of Hell, I’m certain of it.” You finally put your arms down, looking back at Dante and finding him with that unexpected expression. “What…?”

“You called me hot stuff, hot stuff.” He winked back, making you realize your ‘mistake’.

It wasn’t really a mistake. But Dante would definitely become even more insufferable with that.

“I blame the mosquitoes from Hell.” Your answer was ridiculous but sure, making Dante burst into laughs as he circled the table to sit on his big chair.

“That’d be a great name for a metal band. The Mosquitoes From Hell.” He laughed even more, resting his feet on a small spot on the table, making sure it wouldn’t interfere with your hunt.

“There you go. You, Verge and Nero can play together now.” You didn’t have much fun in your voice, going back to searching your nemesis in the air. Dante snorted a laugh, knowing you were joking – even if you were too focused to make it obvious.

“Dressed as vampires, it’d be perfect!”

But you couldn’t remain too serious around Dante for a long time. As soon as he added that, you closed your eyes, resting your wrists on your waist, letting out a sigh along a laugh. Imagining them all dressed as vampires, playing together as mosquitoes from Hell was too much – Dante now had your attention, beating the rogue mosquito you couldn’t find anymore.

You eyed him back, having a half smile on your lips. Dante was relaxed as he could be, his arms on the back of his head, helping him rest as he watched you with all the interest in the world.

“C’mon. I’d be one hell of a vampire!” Once again, he had that smile on his lips – sprinkled with a little more happiness now that you were into it.

“You’d be the sexiest one for sure, Mr. it’s-too-hot-to-wear-shirts.” You pointed back at him with one of the flip flops still in your hand, making Dante smile even more – a little blushed, but that could be because of the heat. “Dante!”

Without thinking twice, he caught your hand and pulled you to him, making you both rock on the chair violently as you tried not to end up on the floor. But Dante was strong and used to a lot more difficult tricks, having you on his lap, both legs secured by one of his hands on his right side. You had to let go of the flip flops, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, as both of you laughed.

“A reckless vampire too!” You finally put some distance between your faces as you were finally settled, finding Dante’s blushed cheeks as he laughed while still looking at you with adoration in his eyes. “Well, well. You got my attention now, cowboy.”

If only Dante knew how much you loved seeing him like that – completely human, vulnerable, having fun, as if none of the heavy burdens from his past weighted on his soul anymore.

“I’m happy, then. I was feeling a little ignored, babe.” He chuckled back, still blushing. Whenever it was hot like that, Dante had a tendency to be as red as an apple – and you didn’t complain. In a certain way, it was cute. As cute as a half-demon son of Sparda could be.

“I’m never ignoring you, babe.” You murmured, brushing some of his stray white hair away from his eyes, giving room to those beautiful skies that always allowed you to see his soul. Dante would always allow you to see him like that. “You better be ready for some undivided attention.”

“Hmmm, I could use a little o’ that…”

You barely waited for Dante to finish his sentence, catching his lips in a slow kiss. Dante rested one of his hands on the back of your neck, after brushing some of your hair back.

It was hot as Hell, yes. But not even that would stop you from loving your red devil.

Only one thing ever could.

mmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEppppPPPPP!

“Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’…!” Dante immediately let go of your lips, having the peak of annoyance in his beautiful blue eyes. “Where’s that little shit?! Did you hear it too?!”

“That’s precisely what I’ve been through for the last hours, my beloved.” You had the most annoyed smile plastered on your lips, eyes closed as if you were trying to maintain yourself calm. “I told you. When you least expect it, that spawn from Hell will meep furiously in your ears, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Oh, there is.” Now Dante put you aside, taking your flip flops and climbing on the desk. “I’m gonna obliterate that lil’ bastard!”

“Now that I’d love to see.” Oh, how tables had turned. There you were, sitting on his big chair, arms crossed, cocky grin in your lips, watching that brick house of a man using his enhanced demonic senses to find the darn mosquito. “Who would’ve known. Good to deal with demonic pests and mundane pests.”

“Oh, look who’s bein’ all funny now!” Dante glanced you again, but he himself couldn’t refrain from laughing. “Guess I’m the full package, huh?”

“That just makes you hotter, if you wanna know.” You had a matter-of-fact tone, leaning back on the chair and resting your feet on the table. “Nothing like a man who can fight and love like Aragorn as well as cook some damn good potatoes and look after the house like Samwise Gamgee.”

“You know what they say, get yourself a man who can do both. Found ya!”

You could swear Dante’s voice had a tinge of his trigger distortion as the red devil finally found his foe flying around his head. Dante tried a few slaps, but the mosquito was too close for him to be able to kill it. Using the flip flops to fan it away from him, you both lost the mosquito for a while, remaining quiet. Dante used all of his senses to finally see it nearing the couch – with a deadly aim, he one-shot his pray with your flip flop, too fast and lethal for the thing to run away.

The mosquito was no more – its remains were glued on the sole of your flip flop in a stain of blood.

“That was so hot.” You were mesmerized and a little bit jealous of his abilities not only to hunt demons but now, to hunt mosquitos as well. Dante really was the whole package.

“I’m startin’ to question your definition of hot, babe.” Dante let out a good laugh, sitting on the edge of the desk, legs dangling by your side.

“Everything you do, basically.” You shrugged, getting up from the chair to be at least almost his size. Standing between his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, ruffling his soft white hair back in order to see his eyes – those eyes you loved so much, so vulnerable and loving towards you. “Thank you so much for saving my desperate human soul, hot stuff.”

“I’m always at your service, pretty eyes.” Dante’s answer was almost a murmur as he leaned to catch your lips with his one more time. “No interruptions this time.”

You laughed between his words and kisses, ready to spend the rest of the night loving him unconditionally.

That is. If you both didn’t hear another approaching MEEP into your ears.

“You gotta be kidding me.” You sighed, throwing your head back.

“Get all the shoes, babe. Those lil’ shits have no idea what they got themselves into.”

Of course, you both had other plans for that night – involving a lot of love, kisses and giggles between you, as time stopped and you could enjoy yourselves, even with that relentless heatwave. The night was spent, though, with you both viciously hunting mosquitoes, keeping scores, making bets between yourselves, drinking beer and eating the leftover cold pizza in the fridge.

It wasn’t what people would consider a perfect evening – but, whenever you were together, things were certainly a lot more entertaining. As you and Dante took refuge in his room, finally getting rid of all the mosquitoes, you lied tiredly in each other’s arms, laughing about your hunt that night, until you fell asleep without a single meep to wake you up.

And that, you would say, was perfect.

Vergil

“I need to enlist your help for a mission, my love.”

Vergil was immediately serious. It was funny how you could watch him change his demeanor – you once told Dante it was like when Marilyn Monroe put on her persona and suddenly people were aware she was there and Dante never allowed his brother to have a single moment of peace upon knowing that.

But it was true. It took some time, but Vergil slowly allowed his shoulders to rest relaxed whenever you were around. His eyebrows weren’t as harsh, his jaw wasn’t tensed all the time. You could see how his forehead remained smooth, how his long hands rested calmly somewhere instead of constantly gripping some invisible weapon. His breath turned slower and smoother, his focus allowing him to plunge completely into his beloved books instead of remaining always with a steady eye on his surroundings.

Whenever you were around, Vergil was safe – of that, he was sure. He had his moments of slipping up, of having his survival instincts make him suddenly tense up and remain vigilant. But you managed to bring a peace to him he never thought he would experience before – and Vergil always allowed himself to slowly, very slowly, relax again.

When you were serious, though, survival-mode Vergil came back to the surface: shoulders tensing, eyes turning into steely blocks of ice, hands closing in fists, gazing you intently while waiting for anything to suddenly appear so he could kill it with just a glare. It was his famous ‘dark aura’ as you called, and not even Dante had that – it was Vergil’s special power and it could make the bravest of demons run away with just a stare.

“What happened?” Vergil’s voice was cold and low, carrying not only all his worry, but his rage.

“The worst creature from Hell has ascended to test us.” You spoke solemnly but there was something quite not right with your tone. Nevertheless, Vergil was even more weary: he was ready to void-cut your way to Nero’s place so you could be safe while he dealt with whatever it was that decided to haunt you. “There’s a huge mosquito in the bedroom. I can’t work properly and, trust me, we will never get a good night of sleep with that thing buzzing around.”

“A… Mosquito…?” Now Vergil slowly crossed his arms, looking down at you. He still had his shoulders tense, jaw locked and stoic look in his eyes, but you knew those would water down after a while – the most important thing was the ‘dark aura’: as soon as he realized you were both safe and there was nothing to worry too much about, it vanished just like Marylin Monroe did whenever she didn’t want to be recognized.

It was impressive, really.

“Yes. And don’t you dare mock me.” You pointed right at him as soon as it seemed Vergil was ready to scold you for being foolish – something that looked quite similar to when he was about to go in a fight. “You can be my guest and try to sleep with the mosquitoes, I’ll sleep on the couch if I need too. But those things will not rob me of my sanity.”

“Hmmm. It’s been a while I don’t see one…” With those words, Vergil followed you to your shared bedroom, having just come out of his shower into that mess. “It makes sense. I believe they come out when the weather is hot, right…?”

“Oh, c’mon. You have to have these little things in Hell. It’s practically a mini-demon spawn with wings and tiny horns imbued in it to drive you crazy.” As soon as you finished your description, Vergil had to close his eyes and do his best to not snort a quick laugh – something he wasn’t really successful at. “You can’t possibly make me believe those weren’t made by the forces of evil to suck blood and endlessly annoy all living beings.”

“We have worst in Hell.” Vergil’s look at you was still strict, but his silver eyes had a tinge of care. He would never admit out loud – and he almost wouldn’t admit even to himself – but the way you talked, the way you eloquently described things to amuse not only him but yourself as well always seemed adorable to Vergil.

You, in the other hand, eyed him with notes of annoyance while resting your hands on your waist. You were the face of the summer that day, having seriously considered being only in your underwear during a few moments, completely out of not being able to tackle the sudden heatwave. Vergil had his dark pajama pants on, his torso covered by a white sleeveless shirt, completely barefoot and his hair slicked back – still wet from the almost cold shower he just took.

Whenever you questioned his heat resistance – afraid that he would die from the heatwave out of not wanting to show too much of his skin ‘like his stupid brother’ all the time – Vergil would just glare you and answer with ‘I’ve had worse”.

You knew he was talking about Hell. In a way, Vergil was quite different than everyone else because of all the things he got used to or desensitized in Hell – heat was only one of them. Vergil could go days without eating, without sleeping, he could endure a lot of pain and dismiss lethal wounds to keep on fighting, and so on… But his sense of taste was also a lot more sensitive, specially regarding sweet foods, as well as his sense of smell – when it came to delightful scents Vergil could notice them a mile away but he could also feel sick from being overwhelmed after a while; with foul scents, though, he had a higher tolerance, getting used to them after only a few seconds. Soft textures and lullabies could also get him by surprise, making him always wonder if there was something hidden behind those.

You could make a list of things that Vergil reacted differently or had been desensitized after his long time in Hell – and the heatwave from that day was certainly one of the items in your list.

“Well… Where is it?”

“It was on the ceiling. I climbed up on the bed trying to reach it, but it’s too far away for me.” You sighed, looking back at him. “I don’t know where it is now. We’ll have to hunt it.”

“You are aware that climbing furniture is very dangerous, right?” Vergil spoke slowly, in the same rhythm his steps casually walked around the bedroom.

“Oh, yes. I hunt demons for a living, but climbing a bed to kill a mosquito is going to be my downfall.” Having your flip flops already on your hands, you couldn’t refrain from answering him with sarcasm.

“Even Achilles had his blind spots.” And as much as you hated it, you had to recognize when Vergil was right. “It will take too long to find it this way. It’s easier if we allow it to come to us.”

“Hmmm… That’s a very good idea, hadn’t thought of that before.” You stopped by his side, both of you observing the room with smart eyes.

“You once mentioned they are attracted to breathing.” Vergil looked back at you, making you nod in return. With that confirmation, he started breathing heavily in order to attract the mosquito.

“Good idea. I’m going to turn off the lights too, they seem to leave wherever they are in search for another light source.”

Vergil just agreed with his head as you turned off the lights and stopped by his side, both of you breathing heavily, trying to lure your prey out of its hiding spot.

In all his life, after all he had done, all he sacrificed and all the souls he destroyed – including his own – Vergil never thought he would be doing something so… Ordinary. Stupid even. There were you, in the dark, breathing weirdly to attract a simple mosquito in order to give you some peace of mind.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even if a little bit. If he could wish for something, he would wish for ordinary days with you for the rest of his life. Dealing with broken showers in the bathroom, fixing a leaking sink in the kitchen, having all the lights go out and depend only on candles, sit by your side reading thousands of recipes trying to understand why a pie backfired in the oven… All painfully mundane things, but so human. So heartwarming to the soul.

It was a kind of peace Vergil knew he did not deserve after all his actions – after all the blood he had shed. But it was something for him to hope for; and human hearts always kept hope inside even if it was an unlikely sort of hope, right?

As you turned on the lights once more, you and Vergil remained with your breathing technique – but none of you could see even a wing of the mosquito. After a few seconds, you had to look at each other.

“We look quite ridiculous, don’t we…?” With your question, not even Vergil could keep serious – both of you started laughing, shaking your heads in unison.

“We can always wait and see if it appears again.”

But as soon as Vergil let those words out of his lips, both of you picked up the characteristic buzzing of a mosquito around the room. Turning your heads immediately, you could see how Vergil had his hunting glare on: carefully scanning his surroundings, the mosquito wouldn’t escape the vicious Dark Slayer.

“Over there!” You threw one of your flip flops towards it, missing for just a little bit.

The shoe was followed by a small, bright blue summoned sword – and that one didn’t miss.

“Wow. Who would’ve guessed, summoned swords have domestic purposes as well.”

“They are very useful for a great number of things.” Vergil shook his head, letting out a breathy small laugh. But then, his hunting eyes were back. “Did you hear that…?”

“What…?” You froze in place, glancing around the bedroom, trying to listen to what he had picked up. Vergil took one of his fingers to his lips, signaling for you to listen carefully right after, making you focus even more.

Those things didn’t happen all the time – but they would be as unexpected as a shooting star crossing the sky. All of a sudden, catching you by surprise, Vergil’s hands rested on your hips, his lips planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Ah!” But of course. Even if Vergil was careful and didn’t do things as suddenly – or as aggressively – as his twin brother when it came to surprises, you did get startled, tripping on your own feet as he kissed you. “Verge!”

“Y/n! Be careful!” Vergil tried to hold you as best as he could. Your hands entangled, one of his arms trying to embrace your waist and pull you back to him. He lost his balance, though, tripping alongside you and trying to stop whatever was happening – as long as you didn’t get hurt, it would be alright for him.

As unexpected as his kiss was, you both ended up falling on the bed – which, at least, was a fluffy fall. Until, that is, a loud crack resonated through the room. Vergil still held you tight in his arms, your fingers intertwined as you felt the bed giving in under your weight.

When all went silent, you and Vergil both exchanged looks, still trying to understand what happened.

It didn’t take too much to remember your bed was a little wobbly – because of Vergil’s recurrent nightmares, you had a couple accidents with the Yamato, chipping at the bed and having to fix it until you had time to buy a sturdier one. With the weight of the both of you falling on it, the bed couldn’t take it anymore and cracked in pieces.

“I blame the mosquito.” You whispered silently, making Vergil immediately bury his head on your neck.

You could hear a muffled laugh – not loud, but comfortable, as he would always be around you. Resting one of your hands on his wet hair, you smiled as you felt his shoulders finally relax, his jaw losing the tension as Vergil kissed your neck.

“We will look for a new bed tomorrow morning.” He sighed, still wondering if all of that was one of Mundus’ illusions before he woke up once more in Hell, having his soul broken even further.

If it was, Vergil closed his eyes and wished for it to last a little longer this time.

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch for a while.” You ran your fingers through his hair, making Vergil lean his weight on his arms in order to look into your eyes. There was nothing in there that could point to Mundus’ tricks – your eyes were filled with adoration and a slight tinge of melancholy, a mixture particular to you that always made him secretly breathless and completely vulnerable. “As long as you’re around, anything works for me.”

Vergil always found something quite interesting when you were around. All his life, he believed there were words for everything – and all could be expressed through prose, through a painting of words into a masterpiece. Upon meeting you, though, he realized some things had no words in any languages he knew that could express what he wanted to say – the only thing he could do was to kiss you back with all the admiration that stirred inside his chest.

Indeed, sleeping on the couch was far from perfect. But having your head safe and sound on his chest while he played with your hair, with you listening to his heartbeat as you always enjoyed to do…Vergil thought not even Heaven could be more perfect than that – and he asked whatever could listen to allow him to live such an ordinary, human life for as long as he could.

Because as long as you were around, anything worked for him.

Nero

“Hey, Kyrie…? I was thinking maybe we can move those shelves from the bedroom to the…”

If there was a thing Nero used to do quite often, that thing would be already talking without even making sure the other person was listening. Usually while still walking towards them, screaming in the distance, barely paying attention to said person.

He seriously questioned why he and Kyrie decided to clean and solve all the little issues in their house on the hottest day of the year – but then again, it was a sudden heatwave and no one was expecting it. Nevertheless, his white tank top was already drenched in sweat, his pair of jeans definitely too hot for that day and he was doing something he never did in his life: working barefoot.

Having a piece of furniture he was tinkering with in his hands, he approached the living room so he could tell Kyrie his brilliant idea of moving the shelves to the garage – decluttering the bedroom and having more storage where they actually needed. As he looked up, though, Nero most definitely didn’t expect that sight.

Kyrie was wearing the shortest pair of shorts she could find at home – flimsy, delicate, from her pajamas – and a sports bra. That’s it. Her hair was tied in a bun, while she had a spatula on one of her hands, completely barefoot on top of the kitchen counter island. Her skin glistening with sweat, while she viciously looked for something.

Nero didn’t want to blush. He wasn’t going to blush. He pursed his lips and did his best to control all of his feelings – after all, he could control his devil trigger, controlling blushing because of seeing that goddess of a woman right on their kitchen wearing almost nothing and being absolutely gorgeous shouldn’t be harder, right…? Right…?! It shouldn’t. Nero wasn’t…

He was blushing. Like a bell pepper.

“Oh, Nero! I didn’t listen to what you said, I’m sorry…!” Kyrie was a little startled upon seeing him – and she certainly took the blushing as his response to how hot the day was rather than anything else.

“What… Did you know climbing furniture is dangerous?!” After the initial shock, though, Nero’s protective instincts towards his loved ones had to kick in. Approaching the island in a hurry, he had his hands on his waist, but ready to get Kyrie out of there.

“Oh, I do, don’t treat me like a child.” Even though her answer was annoyed, Kyrie dismissed his comment with a sigh and a slight smile: she would never complain about how protective Nero was towards her. She would always appreciate that. “But I’m trying to solve a problem on my own.”

“Well, the only problem I see here is you on top of the counter, beautiful.” Nero rested his hands on the cold stone, slightly considering laying down on it to get rid of the heat. Maybe standing on it wasn’t that bad, but he would never endorse such dangerous behavior on her side. “C’mon. Lemme help you down.”

“Hey! I’m doing some hunting, I won’t climb down now!” Kyrie now had her hands on her waist, finally looking down at Nero and finding his always attentive but loving aquamarine eyes. She could never get angry at those eyes, he definitely was her soft spot. “I’ve been doing this for the past half-hour. It’s ok, Nero.”

“Wait, what? Huntin’? What’s the matter?!” It was like she flipped a switch in Nero. Suddenly, there was the devil hunter, always aware of his surroundings, ready to sucker-punch any clueless demon that appeared in front of him. All of this got amplified with the fact that Kyrie was around and he would be damned if anyone even thought about touching her in his presence.

She had to giggle. It was almost a natural response even. Nero could have all the pose he wanted – he could be the troublesome punk with a dirty mouth and short-tempered behavior all he wanted – but Kyrie could always see the man he was underneath all that. In his aquamarine eyes, Kyrie has ever seen a sweet man, gentle, worried about his friends, loyal and caring, ready to sacrifice everything and anything for his loved ones. The punk attitude could fool everyone else but her.

And Kyrie had to admit, Nero looked as cute as a badass demon hunter could be when she saw everything that was under his short-tempered answers, ready to get into a fight – the love, the care and the immediate instinct to protect at all costs.

He looked up at her, clueless for a few moments. Kyrie would always look like a little angel in Nero’s eyes, with a giggle resembling little silver bells on a golden morning. Her cheeks slightly blushing, her beautiful hair starting to fall over her face, her rose-pink lips so delicate as her warm brown eyes watched him with care.

“It’s nothing like that, silly…” Her voice was always soft, so different than everything else Nero had always heard. Since the beginning, he was always used to being treated harshly or with indifference, but Kyrie was the first one to offer him comfort and love. He always thought falling for her was inevitable, as they were meant to be from the moment their eyes crossed for the first time. “I’m having mosquito problems.”

“Mosquito problems…?” And suddenly, all that wave of adrenaline washed off his body. Nero could be calmer, it wasn’t anything to be horribly worried at. Leaning over the kitchen counter, he smiled up at his little angel. “All that ‘cause of a lil’ mosquito…?”

“Oh, don’t downplay it like that!” Kyrie pretended to be mad, lightly slapping one of his arms with the spatula. As Nero giggled, she started looking around again. “I’ve been on that for the past half-hour. I’ve been trying to catch it but it’s too fast!”

“We can always try some pesticide.” As soon as Nero suggested, Kyrie glanced at him.

“Nero. Last time we tried pesticide, you almost died from the smell. We had to ask Dante to sleep at the shop, remember?” Of course, he didn’t. Nero had probably erased that memory out of his head, but Kyrie would forever be there to remind him: out of the two, he was the most sensitive with strong chemical smells, specially cleaning products and pesticides, given his demonic heritage. Nero would never want to admit it out loud, but it was true.

“Oh… Yeah.” As always, Nero would do his best to change subjects – thanking the heatwave for the first time for serving as a perfect cover for his blushing. “But ya know, killin’ it with a spatula isn’t the best thing in the world. Actually, killin’ it isn’t like you at all.”

“Well, I get rashes every time they bite me. I must be allergic to something.” Kyrie sighed, finally approaching Nero on the counter. He stepped back for a bit and she put the spatula away, sitting in front of him, legs hanging from the counter. “And you were sort of allergic too when we were kids.”

“Ah, yeah, I remember… Got some pretty nasty itches all over my arms.” Nero let out a quick laugh, unconsciously resting his hands on Kyrie’s thighs. She was warmer than usual – not as much as him though – and her skin was soft, slightly damp. As a reflex, he lightly caressed her tights with his thumbs while talking – and Kyrie thanked the heatwave for hiding the real reason she was blushing at that moment. “You’re right, I’ll give ya that. Mosquitoes aren’t allowed in this house.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was a small whisper, Kyrie still trying to control her heartbeat. She wasn’t half-demon like Nero though, and her human heart would always follow her own feelings instead of whatever her mind was trying to control. “Do you think you can help me with it?”

“I can always help you with anything, princess.” His aquamarine eyes sparkled with care as Nero leaned forward to place a very not rushed at all kiss on her angel lips. Kyrie cradled his face with both of her hands, smiling into his lips – Nero always tasted honey-sweet to her, no matter the situation. “Alright, angel, time to deal with your mosquito. Where’s the lil’ bastard?”

“It was flying around the ceiling. I managed to slap it a couple of times but, as you said, spatulas aren’t that efficient.” She let go of him, watching lovingly as Nero got a couple of shoes he had left in the kitchen while cleaning the bedroom floor. “What are you going to do with so many shoes…?”

“Well, I got a trick up my sleeve.” With a wink, Nero’s ice blue trigger claws appeared behind his back like a set of wings, catching one shoe in each of its hands. Kyrie couldn’t stop laughing. “Ya know, demons have their domestic uses, we can be pretty handy at home.”

“That was awful, Nico would love it!” Kyrie couldn’t stop laughing and giggling as Nero climbed on the kitchen counter, armed with two pairs of shoes.

He wasn’t lying: his trigger could be very helpful when doing chores. That was how he always did whatever he needed to do around the house in half of the time: Nero literally had control over another set of hands to help.

As Nero used all his enhanced senses to find the mosquito and start hunting it with four relentless shoes, Kyrie watched him with what one would think it was too much admiration in her eyes for such a trivial thing. Even though it was mundane, it wasn’t trivial to her: nothing was trivial when it came to spending time with someone she loved, especially Nero.

When others would see a half-demon creature, Kyrie would see the human she loved so much. And not only that – they started dating when they were teens, yes, they grew up together and soon that young love matured over time – Kyrie didn’t see her boyfriend, but a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and who would be such a great husband and father.

Nero would deny if she ever told him that, of course. But Kyrie could see how he played with the children, how he scolded them in such a fatherly way when needed, how he always seemed to have so much patience even if he hid it under a short-tempered demeanor. Nero would make the best dad jokes, he would build the best pillow forts, he would stay awake into the night to care for his children when they would get sick… Kyrie could make a list of things Nero would certainly do as a father – and would excel at it.

“C’mon… Where did it… A-ha! Found it! No escape now!”

She was brought up from her thoughts as soon as Nero exclaimed those words, all four pieces of shoes ready to attack. The mosquito had nowhere to go: he threw one shoe, calculated the route the mosquito would fly over, and threw the other three in a row – faster than she could even think about it. The mosquito was caught in the second shoe, but, if that hadn’t happened, it would had found certain death in the other shoes.

“Job done, princess! Your nights will be peaceful and mosquito-less again!” Nero’s trigger hands disappeared as he bowed to Kyrie – who just laughed and applauded as he did so.

“Thank you so much, brave knight!” She had to joke around. Nero had this thing of calling her princess ever since they were teens – and he never knew how much her heart jumped inside of her chest every time he did that. To counter it and be able to hide how much she loved him in Fortuna, Kyrie would always call him something like that back as a joke, so the elders would think they were just playing. It sort of became their thing after a while – and she quite enjoyed it. “I think it’s my turn to repay you.”

“Eh, no need…” With a sigh, Nero sat by Kyrie’s side on the counter, legs dangling from it as well. He was a lot taller than her, but not even his feet couldn’t reach the floor from where they were sitting. “I’ll do it a thousand times if I have to.”

Looking at her, Nero allowed a caring smile to fill not only his lips but his eyes as well. While so many people saw only fire and rage, Kyrie had the privilege of seeing love and vulnerability inside that aquamarine sea.

Placing one of her hands on his cheek, Kyrie pulled Nero for a kiss – soft, long and calm. Nero was taken aback for a few seconds before melting into it, placing his hands on her hips and finding her soft skin. It seemed like a bolt of lightning went up their spines as Nero caressed her sides and ran his hand on her silky, slightly damp back.

“Oh, what were you saying about the bedroom before…?” Her question was a whisper as Kyrie parted the kiss – both of them blushing and vaguely breathless.

“Nothin’ that matters. The shelves can wait.” Nero dismissed it quickly, pulling her back to a kiss – both of them laughing between each other’s lips.

The house was a mess as they were cleaning everything: the kitchen and the bedroom seemed like they were torn apart, with clothes and shoes lying everywhere, books finding temporary solace somewhere else, and everything looking like it was turned upside down.

Spending time with each other, though, was a bigger priority. They would order some pizza and sleep on the couch under a light bedsheet so they wouldn’t get caught by surprise in case Nico decided to visit all of a sudden in the morning – but they wouldn’t pass the opportunity of loving each other.

As the night settled, they rested on the couch, Nero cradling Kyrie safely in his arms, as they talked the night away, always blushing from being so intimate with each other – that would never change, no matter how many years had gone by.

While watching Kyrie giggling from one of his stupid jokes, looking like an angel resting her head on his chest, Nero blushed even more while laughing alongside her and playing with her hair. He would always be a fool for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get a glass of cold water for you?” Kyrie whispered into the night, the humming of the fan they found in the back of the garage making the weather a little bit more bearable. “You look like a tomato, dear.”

“Oh, it’s ok. It’s chillier now, my temperature will go down soon.” Nero smiled back at her, wondering how Kyrie could be so radiant. No supernatural creature could top that. “No need to worry, angel. Thank you.”

Obviously, he would never say he was blushing because of her - having only one thing in his mind… Thank whatever forces that be for that heatwave.

#polaris speaks #polaris reblogs #I never thought the peoples would like this one so much #I was like 'oh this is the day they will abandon me and tell me I lost my writing thing'#'once I was great now I'm writing mosquito hunting during massive heatwaves fluff'#'I have turned to empty storytelling and no one will see the growth and character exploration that is behind said silly fluff'#and once again you guys proved me wrong and I'm so thankful for that HAHAHAHAHA

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