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much-obliged-timothy · 2 years

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 10

Good news! I finally got around to uploading this to AO3. I’ll be posting the whole thing there, edited with new content and scenes and an additional chapter that I won’t be putting on Tumblr to wrap it all up. I’m hoping to put more DMC content on AO3 in the near future! And, as always, you can find the masterpost for this series here! I originally was going to leave this as the last chapter, but decided to write one more to celebrate putting it on AO3!

Nero kept up his training by himself, but didn’t venture to the forest again. Credo started play fighting with him again as Nero calmed his attacks.

But the older boy and his sister weren’t around much as the town got back to normalcy as the panic from the attack subsided. Credo resumed his regular training and Kyrie continued her singing lessons.

That left Nero on his own once again. Dante saw the other kids occasionally bullying Nero, but Nero would yank his hood over his head and storm away from them more often than he would yell at them over it.

It was sad, really. Nero’s anger was bred by the actions of others; the boy had a kind heart. Dante regularly spotted Nero doing kind things for others, seemingly without thought. He’d tear off pieces of his sandwich at lunch to feed the birds or stray animals. He’d jog up the street to help an elderly citizen carry their bags. He’d climb up the side of a building to pull down a frisbee a little kid had accidentally tossed on the roof.

But Dante could see that kindness slowly being buried by the anger. It was always there, always escaping through in those little thoughtful acts. But his anger and his pain occasionally made him hesitate before going to help someone, like he feared their rejection. Or, sometimes Dante feared, like he figured they could shoulder their own burdens like they made him shoulder his alone.

Dante worried what the kid would grow into being treated like this his whole childhood. He had so few people that cared for him. He was fiercely loyal and protective of the ones who did.

That kind of isolated love could warp him just as easily as the total isolation of Vergil’s existence. Dante couldn’t help but worry over the boy.

He kept thinking of Nero’s words. What if he really did take the kid with him…?

He didn’t kid himself for a second that he could give Nero a normal childhood. But he could give him family, balanced training, and a focused purpose.

Ah, who was Dante kidding? Certainly not himself. He didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid.

Besides, if he took Nero with him, surely the truth would eventually come out. Would Nero be mad at Dante for not telling him that first time they met? Or would he understand that Dante was only trying to protect him by hiding the truth from him?

Dante tried not to think on it too hard.

Right now, he watched Nero as the boy sat by himself, headphones on and drawing aimless shapes in the dirt with a stick. It was a nice evening, but it was starting to get late and Nero hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

Dante heaved a sigh and jumped down to the street. He knew he needed to leave Fortuna soon. The longer he was here, the worse he was making the situation. But he didn’t want to end on the note they’d last parted on.

He strolled over to Nero and kicked the stick out of his hand. Nero jerked his head up in surprise, eyes going wide and the hint of a shy smile on his face when he realized who was standing there.

He pulled his headphones down around his neck. “Hi, Dante.”

“I was heading to grab some pizza when I spotted you. Want a bite?” Dante offered.

Nero nodded and stood up, turning his music off. He fell into step beside Dante.

Dante got them each a slice of pizza and they retreated to a sidestreet to eat together, sitting on boxes. Nero was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Alright kid, why’s the cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” Dante asked.

“I thought you might be mad at me,” he admitted, not looking at Dante.

“Nah, kid’s do dumb stuff a lot. I’m not one to hold a grudge,” he said. “If I was, would I have bought you pizza? It’s a sacred meal not to be shared with enemies.”

Nero smiled a little at that, looking relieved. “Oh. Okay.”

“Something else on your mind?” Dante asked.

Nero seemed to consider for a moment before nodding to himself. He looked up and finally met Dante’s eyes. “Can we, um, can we…can we just play, Dante? Like the day we met?” He looked a little desperate. “I didn’t mean to make you mad at me. I just wanna play.”

“Promise not to be a dummy again?” Dante asked, playfully bopping his fist against Nero’s head.

Nero relaxed even more. “Promise.”

They finished eating and Nero retrieved his ball for them to play. They started up a game of catch, just like that first day.

Nero seemed to loosen up the longer they played. He gave his high-pitched, boyish squeal of delight when he managed to toss the ball over Dante’s head and make him chase it. His grins were triumphant every time he caught the ball, and his enthusiasm drove him to keep playing even when he was clearly out of breath.

And Dante found he was having fun, too. He drove dramatically for the ball or let it hit him in the face to get a laugh out of Nero. He’d throw it over the kid’s head just to tease him, taunting him whenever Nero had to run and chase the ball.

The sidestreet echoed with their laughter and taunts. Nero’s bright smile and shining eyes made him look more like a happy young child than Dante had ever seen him.

He didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to acknowledge that sinking feeling in his gut that told him this was it.

But Nero was a child. His endurance was better than that of a human, but he was still a young child.

He collapsed on the ground, arms splayed out and chest heaving. He was still beaming a smile, even as he gasped for breath.

When he had enough breath to giggle, he did so. He sat up and propped his arms on his knees.

Dante went and sat beside him, setting the ball down in front of them. Nero hesitantly leaned against Dante’s arm, relaxing when Dante didn’t push him off or move away.

“Tired?” Dante said, grinning down at him.

Nero returned the grin, his face flushed from running around so much. “Little bit. But I still did better than you.”

Dante let out a dramatic groan. “I’m old. Take it easy on me, kid.”

Nero giggled again, pressing a hand to his mouth to try and stifle it. “Nah. Keep up, old man.”

The sun had set and the stars were starting to decorate the sky overhead. Nero looked up at them, his head resting on Dante’s shoulder.

“Do the stars look the same outside of Fortuna?” he asked.

“I…never really paid attention,” Dante said, glancing up at the sky.

“I look at the stars a lot,” Nero admitted.

“Well, someday you’ll look at them from somewhere other than Fortuna. I know it,” Dante said.

Nero smiled softly. “Yea. I’d like that. Thanks for playing with me, Dante.”

Dante put his arm around Nero. “You’re not the only one who had fun with it, Nero.”

Nero seemed unspeakably pleased by that. The two fell into a comfortable silence, just watching the sky together.

It was all coming to an end; Dante could feel it. But for tonight, he held his nephew to his side and watched the stars with him, pretending their time together was as infinite as the sky above them.

#devil may cry #Dante Sparda #Nero Sparda #dmc dante #dmc nero #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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much-obliged-timothy · 2 years

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 9

Sorry for another long update wait! I already have part 10 written though, so the next update won’t take as long! Find the masterpost here!

The town went on alert after the attack, tightening up their defenses. Nero was not allowed to roam alone any longer; Credo accompanied him and Kyrie everywhere if an adult could not be with them.

Dante watched Nero’s fear steadily turn to anger. The boy would sit by the window at night while the other two children slept and study his healing knuckles, clenching and unclenching his fists.

His fake sword fights with Credo became so aggressive that Credo was forced to call them off for the time being, chastising Nero for being too rough. Without that outlet, Nero was restless and more emotional than usual, quick to lose his temper over little things.

No one was too hard on him, seeming to understand it was just a reaction to the attack. But rather than help him work through it, they all seemed to think avoiding him while he figured it out himself was the best way to handle the situation.

That was, predictably, a dumbass idea.

Dante was unsurprised when, within a week, Nero was sneaking out of the house with Credo’s sword strapped to his back. He moved in a way that told Dante he’d snuck out of the house plenty of times before, knowing just where to step to avoid creaking floorboards and slipping out a window that didn’t creak when he pushed it open.

Rather than go to the forest though, Nero made his way to the fountain where they’d been attacked. His steps slowed the closer he got, but he pushed himself on until he stood at the spot he’d punched the demon.

“Returning to the scene of the crime?” Dante asked, keeping his voice light.

He felt a little guilt at how badly Nero flinched, his hand going to the hilt of the blade as he spun. He lowered his hand despite the terror in his eyes when he saw who was before him.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “They kept asking me who saved me. I said I didn’t know. I said I didn’t see your face. I just told ‘em I thought you were an off-duty Knight.”

“Thanks for keeping my cover, kid. Knew I could count on you,” Dante said.

It didn’t have the distracting effect he’d been hoping for. Nero’s gaze was intense. He looked so much like Vergil that Dante found he couldn’t bear to meet Nero’s gaze.

“Dante,” Nero said, his voice wavering. “Where have you been?”

“I’m here on business, kid,” Dante said. “I only got involved because-” Because Nero had been in trouble. “Well, I’m no hero, but watching civilians, especially children, getting slaughtered isn’t really my style. Nice punches, though. Needs better form, but it was a good start.”

Nero’s fists clenched at his sides. “Credo almost died. I wasn’t just gonna not do anything. I had to-”

“Punch a demon?” Dante said. “What good does getting yourself killed do? They would’ve killed you and then killed your friend next.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Nero snapped.

“Not throw your life away, Nero!” Dante snapped right back, that scene replaying in his head again. “You’re not strong enough, and you were damn stupid doing what you did. Bravery is only good up until it gets you killed.”

“Then train me!” Nero cried, eyes desperate despite the angry stance of his body. “I can’t protect them like this! I can’t protect them if I’m not strong enough! I need more strength!”

Dante cringed back like he’d been struck. No, he never should’ve started training Nero. He never should’ve given the boy a glimmer of hope that he could be powerful.

Because Nero could be powerful. But he’d have to pay the same price Vergil had, and Dante could not stand to think he had set Nero up for that kind of sacrifice.

“Go home, Nero,” he said quietly.

“What?” Now Nero looked like he’d been struck. “B-But…you said you’d train me!”

“I was wrong,” Dante said. “The Order will train you when you’re old enough to handle it. You’re too impulsive right now. I won’t get you killed with false confidence. Go home.”

“You can’t…you can’t just…” Nero let out a furious, pained cry, yanking the sword from his back and charging at Dante.

Dante could tell the kid didn’t intend to hurt him- Nero was already pulling his hands up, intending to point the blade at Dante, not actually stab him with it.

But sometimes people just had to learn the hard way.

As Nero approached, Dante neatly sidestepped and easily yanked the sword from Nero’s hands. Before Nero could even react to that, Dante flipped the sword and struck Nero in the back with the hilt, the force of Nero’s own momentum sending him painfully tumbling along the ground.

He came to a stop lying on his back, chest heaving. His fingers pressed into the ground. He was going to get back up and keep coming. The kid didn’t know when to stay down.

Dante put a foot on Nero’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground and pointing the sword at Nero’s throat. Nero’s eyes widened. His free hand gripped Dante’s boot, but he didn’t try to struggle up.

Dante felt wretched, but he did not pull the sword away. Rather him than a true enemy pointing it at Nero.

“Do you understand?” he demanded, his voice low and fierce. “You will die if you keep this up.”

“I’ll learn. I’ll get stronger,” Nero said.

“That is exactly what my brother said before his quest for strength stole away his life,” Dante snarled.

Nero flinched, eyes going even wider. Dante didn’t move off of him.

“Yea, kid, I had a brother. Remember that? And he was so desperate for power and strength, he lost everything in pursuit of it. If that’s the path you choose in life, that’s on you. I’ll play no part in it,” Dante said, finally backing off of him.

He tossed the sword away, the sound of it clattering to the ground loud in the silence of the night. He turned and walked away, having no idea what to do next but knowing he had to get away from Nero.

Until he felt the tiny arms around his waist. He froze as Nero buried his face in Dante’s coat. His arms were too small to wrap all the way around, but he was clearly trying.

“It hurts so much knowing I could’ve lost them,” Nero whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry you did lose him.”

Dante closed his eyes. What the hell was he doing?

He turned, pulling Nero’s arms away from his waist. He knelt down, gripping Nero’s shoulder and meeting his eyes- meeting Vergil’s eyes.

“Nero,” he said. “I do not want to see you die.”

Nero hung his head.

Dante stood up, ruffling Nero’s hair. “So, do me a favor and quit being stupid, alright? I won’t be around forever to save your stupid ass when you go charging off like that.”

“What if I went with you?” Nero blurted.

The grin that Dante had formed fell off his face. “What?”

“You don’t have a family and…and I don’t have…we could…” He looked lost now, the anger drained away, though Dante knew it was only temporary. “Please don’t leave, Dante. Please.”

Dante held his hand out. “Grab the sword you stole - again, I might add - and let’s get you back before anyone sees you’re missing.”

Nero didn’t argue anymore. He retrieved the sword and went to Dante, taking his hand.

“What was his name?” Nero asked quietly as they walked.

Dante was silent for a long moment. “Vergil.”

“Vergil,” Nero repeated. “I’ll remember his name. Kyrie’s mom said if we remember people who die, they’re not really gone.”

Dante could not comprehend how his asshole brother could father a kid with a heart so big. Then again, maybe the kid had his mom’s heart and his dad’s irritating stubbornness. That would certainly make more sense.

“I don’t want you to remember his name,” Dante said, not wanting Vergil to poison this boy like he had poisoned Dante. “I want you to remember why he’s gone.”

“I just wanna be good enough for them,” Nero whispered.

“You are. Kid, I’ve seen the way that girl puts up with you. If putting up with your moody, stubborn ass ain’t the ultimate form of love, I don’t know what is,” Dante said.

Nero gave the hint of a smile. Dante watched him and tried not to think too hard on Nero’s words; the kid was just upset and not thinking clearly.

Dante stopped in front of Nero’s house, releasing his hand. Nero reached for the door handle, but stopped as his fingers rested on it.

He looked over his shoulder at Dante. “I didn’t mean to…” He dropped his gaze, facing the door again. “Kyrie says I’m kinda dumb. Goodnight, Dante.”

“You’re more than kinda dumb,” Dante assured, girnning and ruffling Nero’s hair again. “‘Night, kid.”

Nero disappeared into the house. Dante waited until he saw Nero finally climb into bed, though it was clear he wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon.

Dante took off for the forest outside town. He was too restless to sleep any time soon, but unlike poor little Nero, he had a way to work off his tangled emotions.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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much-obliged-timothy · 2 years

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties

I’ve had this idea kicking around in my head for a bit and decided to finally write it out. If anyone is interested in reading more, I might turn this into a little series of parts because I think it’ll be fun to write more for this little AU!

Dante had only come to Fortuna to investigate the bizarre Sparda cult they had going on there. He checked in from time to time to ensure they weren’t getting into any serious demon-summoning. He wasn’t overly concerned about the group, but he liked to keep the occasional eye on them.

He hadn’t expected to find the boy.

He sat on a roof, watching the boy play by himself. There were other children, just a little ways off. But the boy stayed apart from them, throwing a ball at the wall and playing catch with himself. The other children seemed more than happy to ignore him; the only attention they paid him was the occasional glance and snicker.

He was young, just a little thing. His white hair was messy, spilling over his forehead. He had to keep pushing it out of his eyes when he ran to catch the ball if he threw it at an angle.

His big, blue eyes were focused, like this was more than just a game for him. He’d been wearing the robes the rest of the members of the Order wore, but he’d shrugged out of them to keep himself from tripping. Underneath, he wore plain shorts and a T-shirt he’d since managed to dirty.

His T-shirt was a shade of blue that had clearly been picked out to match his eyes. Dante stared down at the child.

Even if the Yamato hadn’t reacted to the child, he would’ve known they were related. And he certainly hadn’t oopsed a child with any of these fanatic freaks.

“Dammit, Vergil,” he muttered. “No one likes a deadbeat.”

He wondered if Vergil had known about the child. He doubted it; for all Vergil’s faults, he would’ve surely taken the child and raised him to be a fighter.

Dante had seen the boy with a set of adults, going to a service. They seemed to be his guardians. Dante had been watching him since this morning and seen no sign of a mother.

He turned his head as a little girl ran for the boy. She looked upset as she reached him, gripping his arm to keep him from throwing the ball again.

“You should play with everyone,” she said.

“Nah. They don’t want me to.” He shook her hand off his arm and threw the ball again, keeping his eyes on it instead of the girl.

“I want you to,” she said.

“You go play with them. I like playing by myself,” he said.

His voice sounded firm, but those big eyes of his were so, so lonely.

The girl set her shoulders. “I wanna play with you. Throw me the ball.”

She jogged a little ways away and turned, arms out to catch. The boy hesitated, looking like he might tell her to go away.

But he was not yet his father, and he still fought his loneliness.

He turned and threw the ball to the girl. Her wide smile made his lips twitch, though the smile didn’t break through on his face.

Dante watched them play catch, the girl good-naturedly laughing whenever she missed the ball and had to chase it. Even the boy seemed to relax the longer they played, beginning to tease her and even laughing when she purposefully threw the ball so he’d have to chase it.

The larger group of children began to disperse as their parents called them away for dinner. An older boy finally came to the two children.

“Dinner,” he informed them. “Come on.”

The girl took his hand, then frowned over her shoulder when the boy didn’t immediately follow. “Dinner is ready.”

“I know,” he said, turning back to the wall. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Your mom’s gonna be mad if I come all dirty again.”

“Five minutes,” the older boy said sternly.

“Uh-huh, sure. Five minutes,” the kid said noncommittally. Dante had to grin a little at his attitude.

The older boy had clearly had this fight before and decided it wasn’t worth it. He led the girl away.

The boy tossed the ball at the wall again. When he realized he was alone on the street, Dante saw a familiar anger come over him as he whipped the ball at the wall so hard he struggled to catch it on the rebound.

Tears filled his eyes, but he held them back with a stubborn determination as he whipped the ball again. Dante sighed quietly.

It was an anger born of loneliness. He’d seen it in Vergil. Seen it consume Vergil. Seen Vergil channel it into anger, because at least anger he could do something with. This child had yet to discover that loneliness was a cancer all its own.

Dante leapt down from the roof and came around the side of the building, into the boy’s view. The boy caught his ball and immediately backed into the shadows, the loneliness snapped away by a sharp distrust as he watched Dante approach. His fingers gripped the ball so tight, the tips of them were white from the pressure, body tensed to throw the ball if Dante got too close to him.

“Heya,” Dante said cheerfully. “Getting late to be out by yourself, isn’t it?”

The boy didn’t respond. With his face scrunched up suspiciously and that distrust in his eyes, looking ready for battle, Dante had no doubt this was Vergil’s kid.

The thought hurt more than he’d expected.

Dante paused like he’d really just noticed the kid’s appearance. “Huh. Nice hair.” He tugged on a lock of his own hair, winking.

The boy eyed Dante’s hair, some of the mistrust slipping away into curiosity. He caught himself and fixed the distrustful expression firmly back into place.

Dante looked around and frowned. “You playing all by yourself, kid? That’s no fun. Here, toss it to me.”

“No,” he said.

“He speaks!” Dante said. “Nah, good for you, not trusting strangers. Is it because I’m not wearing the robe?” He gestured to the boy’s abandoned robe. “Sorry, must’ve missed the fashion notice. God forbid someone in this place has a little color in their wardrobe.”

The boy’s expression faltered, his lips twitching as he pressed them tighter together against a laugh. Dante grinned at him.

“Guess you and I are the outcasts, eh?” he said, gesturing between his red coat and the boy’s blue shirt. “Someone here has to have good taste. Since I’m just passing through on a visit, I guess the responsibility will be yours.”

The boy couldn’t quite stop his lips from forming into a smile fast enough. But he pushed them back down into a straight line quick enough.

Dante held his hands out again. “Aw, c’mon, kid. Just a few passes. Maybe I’ll even take it easy on ya.”

The boy considered, glancing down at his ball. Then he reared back and whipped it at Dante.

Dante caught it easily enough, but let out a fake grunt of surprise. “Whoa, someone drinks his milk. Got a hell of an arm on you, kid.”

He looked proud at the compliment. “Nah, you just suck.”

“Oh, is that so?” Dante could feel the glint in his eye. “Think fast, pipsqueak.”

He threw the ball back at the boy, who struggled to catch it. It hit his hands with just enough force to bounce back out and roll back towards Dante.

He kicked it to the boy, who scowled as he picked it up. “I wasn’t ready. Now I am!”

“Sure, sure,” Dante said.

The boy whipped the ball again. Dante was a good sport, but he wasn’t going to patronize the kid, so he snatched it out of the air with a taunting grin. He threw it back, easing up a little this time.

The kid struggled, but he did manage to catch it this time, looking triumphant even as he let out an “oomph” as caught the ball against his chest. He waited a moment to get his breath back before winding up for another throw.

He and Dante tossed the ball back and forth, teasing and tricking each other with throws. Dante took a guilty pleasure in throwing the ball just over the boy’s reach and watching him leap up with his little arms flailing helplessly. It reminded him that, Vergil’s son or not, this was just a little kid.

And he seemed to be enjoying himself and letting loose the longer they played. He even let out a burst of high-pitched laughter as Dante let the ball smack him in the forehead one time.

He didn’t know which one of them was more disappointed when they heard the voice.

“Nero? Nero!”

The boy looked down at the ball in his hands, the joy deflating from his face. He pushed his messy hair back and toed the dirt with the tip of his sneaker.

“That you?” Dante asked.

“Uh-huh.” He considered Dante for a moment before dropping his gaze back to the ball. “I’m Nero.”

“I’m Dante. Thanks for the game, kid. Haven’t had that much fun in ages,” Dante said, pretending to stretch his arms as the voice calling for Nero got closer.

“I’m still better than you. You missed it more,” Nero muttered, looking away, towards the voice. He glanced back at Dante. “Um…thanks, mister. For playing with me.”

“‘Mister’? Jeez, you’re making me feel old. It’s just Dante.” Dante flicked a couple fingers his way and headed for the side street to get out of view before whoever was calling for Nero found them. “I’ll be in town a few more days. Maybe we can have another go at it. I am not letting a kid tarnish my reputation like this.”

Nero’s face lit up hopefully, even as he clearly tried to hide it. “I’ll beat you anytime, mist- uh, Dante.”

Dante grinned. “I’ll hold you to it, Nero. See you around. Might wanna wipe the dirt off your shirt.”

With that, he disappeared out of Nero’s sight, pulling himself back up to the roof and peering over. A man came around the corner and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head at Nero.

“Credo told you dinner was ready!” he said. “Oh, look at you. You’re filthy again. Nero, I don’t like you playing out in the street by yourself. Please come to dinner when Credo calls you and Kyrie in. Come on.”

He held a hand out. Nero grabbed his robe and pulled it on to hide his dirty clothes. He tucked the ball under his arm and approached the man, but didn’t take his hand.

Nero looked over his shoulder longingly, then firmed up his expression. Dante saw that inevitable loneliness in the boy’s eyes just before he turned his head forward and disappeared out of sight with the man.

Dante leaned back on the roof, putting his hands behind his head. He thought of Nero’s uncontained burst of laughter as they played.

He was a good kid, still full of life and joy. But he was trying to bury it. He clearly thought he didn’t deserve that joy.

Dante sighed, staring up at the night sky. Unexpected or not, he had a little nephew. And that little nephew was already on the same dangerous path that had led to Vergil’s downfall.

No. No, Dante would not let Nero share his father’s fate.

Somehow, Dante would find a way to save Nero.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #nero #Dante #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #My writing #dmc unexpected ties #dmc fanfiction

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much-obliged-timothy · 2 years

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 2

Apparently I’m turning this into my new stress relief project?? So thanks for the reaction to the first part! I’ll plan to keep adding parts to this AU :) You can find part 1 here!

Dante watched Nero carefully the next day.

The boy did not appear to tell anyone about his new, mysterious playmate. He did, however, keep looking around as if hoping Dante would show up again.

But for all his loneliness, he seemed cared for. Dante peered through the windows of the home he seemed to live in, and the couple that appeared to have taken on the role of his guardians treated him no different than they treated the other two children in the home.

Still, Nero spoke the least throughout their dinner. When the couple came in to put the children down for bed, Nero had already tucked himself in and was pretending to sleep. Dante was unsurprised when the boy spent the majority of the night tossing and turning, finally giving up on sleep and sitting by the window, using the light of the full moon to read a book while the other two children slept.

Dante had watched him until he fell asleep, cheek resting against the window and book dropping into his lap. Maybe he’d been given a house, but it clearly didn’t feel like a home to him.

In the morning, the couple took the children for another service, dressed in their robes. The little girl seemed determined to force Nero into conversation.

Dante slipped into the service, hiding himself at the back of the crowd. The girl had to constantly remind Nero to pay attention and follow the ritual actions the others enacted automatically.

Dante nearly smiled. Not very devoted to his lineage, that boy.

He followed Nero throughout his, admittedly boring, day. The kid was mostly towed around by adults, taken to services or classes. Other children avoided Nero, as if sensing he was different. He pretended he wasn’t bothered by it, but he got the same tight-lipped, frustrated expression as his father from time to time.

The only one who offered to play with him was the little girl. Dante learned her name was Kyrie, and that she brushed aside Nero’s mean remarks with the ease of a pro.

“Let me practice my new song,” the girl said now as the two walked back from class together. The older boy, Kyrie’s brother, from what Dante had gathered, usually walked with them. But he’d been taken for some kind of training, so the two children were walking home alone this time.

“Nah. I wish you could hit a note as well as you hit me,” Nero said, scowling when she smacked him in the shoulder.

“They want me to join the chorus!” she said.

“One more reason for me not to go to those dumb services,” Nero said, then cut his gaze to the side in a way that prefaced he was about to temporarily drop the jerk act. “Guess you worked hard for it, though. Gotta work harder to hit a note.”

She was beaming proudly at him despite his fumbled congratulations, evidently able to ignore his delivery and take just the meaning to heart. “Next week is my first performance with them. You’ll pay attention?”

“Do I gotta choice?” Nero said, but his lips were twitching towards a smile. “Uh-huh, sure, I’ll pay attention. But just the first time.”

She slung her arm around his shoulders and gave him a bright smile. “I’ll get all the words right. You’ll see.”

Nero gave up and smiled back. His genuine smile transformed his whole face, making him look so much softer. “I know you will.”

She stopped at the end of the street, hugging him tightly before pulling away. “I’m gonna go practice. I just wanted to make sure you got back safe. I’ll see ya at dinner, Nero!”

She waved and jogged off. Nero seemed surprised at her words, looking between her and the house. Alone, he smiled.

But then he looked back at the house and the smile slowly faded. Rather than walk towards it, he turned and walked down a side street.

He dug something out of his bag. Dante had to shift on the roof to make out headphones and a CD player.

Nero put the headphones on and settled himself on a crate, leaning back against the wall as he listened to music. He looked back towards the house, his eyes watering. But he wiped the tears away hastily with the sleeve of his robe, a stubborn expression crossing over his face until he’d successfully fought back the tears.

Dante climbed down to the street and pretended to be passing by. He saw Nero spot him, eyes widening, shifting just enough that his foot knocked into the crate.

Dante turned at the sound, feigning surprise. Nero pulled his headphones down, hanging them around his neck.

“Ah, damn. My dignity is still bruised. I was hoping to avoid you while it recovered,” Dante said.

“I don’t have the ball,” Nero said, looking helplessly at his bare hands.

“Well, I was heading to find dinner.” Dante moved forward and sat in front of the crate. “Know any good places?”

“Around here?” Nero made a face.

Dante sighed dramatically. “Dammit.”

“Um-” Nero snapped his mouth shut. Dante gestured at him to say whatever was on his mind. “It’s just- you shouldn’t- I guess adults can swear, though.” He jerked his thumb in the vague direction of the house. “My friend’s mom doesn’t like it if we say swears.”

“What about your mom?” Dante asked casually.

He’d been well aware he was purposefully prying, but he still wanted to kick himself for the heartbreaking expression the question put on Nero’s face.

“Don’t have a mom,” he mumbled. “I live with my friend’s family.”

“No parents?” Dante asked, softer this time.

Nero shook his head. “No. I…don’t know why they didn’t want me.”

His voice was small when he said it. He sounded close to tears again.

But then he cleared his throat before Dante could speak. “It doesn’t matter. The Order takes care of its own.”

“How good of them,” Dante said. He smiled up at Nero, letting some of the sorrow he felt over the loss of his parents into the expression. “I don’t have parents, either. I think I turned out alright. I think you will, too.”

Nero’s head jerked up at that. He searched Dante’s eyes, as if expecting Dante to laugh in his face for daring to believe such a statement.

Dante shifted next to the crate, his head next to Nero’s shoulder. “Cool music. Turn it up?”

Nero nodded and turned the music up so they could both hear it. Nero pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them.

“I thought you were gonna go get dinner,” he said.

“If there are no good pizza joints around here, it can wait. I’ll take good music over bad food,” Dante said.

Nero held his CD player out. “You can pick the next song. But I only have one CD with me right now.”

Dante took the player. “Better bring more next time. This is catchy as hell, but I like variety. You bring the music, I’ll bring the pizza?”

Nero’s eyes lit up at the assurance of a next time. “Uh-huh. I’ll bring my best CDs!”

Dante held up a fist. Nero stared at it in confusion.

“Make a fist,” Dante instructed.

Nero made a fist. Dante took his wrist and brought it forward so that their fists smacked together.

Don’t worry, Vergil. I’ll make sure your son learns the important things in life, like a fist-bump and the importance of good pizza, Dante thought, grinning at Nero.

The two sat in comfortable silence, just listening to Nero’s music together. Dante was already making plans for their next encounter, surprised at how desperate he was to put that genuine smile back on Nero’s face.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 6

Find the other parts here!

For both their sakes, Dante backed off.

He didn’t want Nero to think he’d abandoned him, so Dante left the occasional small gesture for him, like a slice of pizza or a new CD. But he tried to keep his physical distance, hoping the separation now would make their inevitable permanent one more bearable.

He saw Nero looking for him, especially when the boy was alone. He seemed to be alone more and more often now that Kyrie had some duties to attend to with the Order.

Dante had intended to stay hidden longer, but his alarming attachment to the kid smashed that plan to pieces.

It was when Nero left a service early, the hood of his robe pulled over his head and his little legs moving quickly. Dante followed him along the rooftops until Nero came to a stop on a sidestreet.

He pushed his hood back, that stubborn expression fixed firmly in place even as he roughly scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. He grabbed his CD player and pulled the headphones over his ears, hugging his knees to his chest as his music played.

Dante went down to the street. For as lonely as Nero seemed to get, and for how much the children seemed to taunt him, he rarely cried like this.

Before Dante could approach him, though, Nero was up and moving again. Dante hung back, out of sight, until Nero had some distance.

Then he followed Nero, curious as to where he was going. The longer Nero fast-walked through town, the more worried Dante became.

His fears were confirmed when Nero left town, heading for the forest. Dante sped ahead of Nero, out of sight, and planted himself in the boy’s eventual path.

Sure enough, Nero passed through the trees and came to a shocked stop as he spotted Dante sitting there. Dante was pretending to clean his gun, but looked up as the sound of Nero’s music drifting from his headphones.

“Hey, kid,” Dante greeted.

Nero pulled his headphones down around his neck. “Dante?”

“What’re you doing out here?” Dante nodded to Nero’s arm. “It’s not safe.”

“I- I’m not afraid!” Nero said, clenching his fists.

“I didn’t say you were. But just because you’re not afraid of a place, doesn’t mean you should be there,” Dante said.

He glared, turning his head away. “You were taking too long. So I’m training myself.”

“Here on a mission, remember?” Dante said. “And how are you going to train yourself? Run off into the forest and get killed by a demon?”

“I’m not weak!” he yelled, and there was so much pain in his voice that Dante could only stare, stunned into silence.

He looked at this boy, with his lonely eyes and his clenched fists. Nero had never looked so much like his father.

“Nero,” Dante said. “What happened?”

Children did not just break like Nero currently was. Someone smashed them into pieces, or chipped away until the lightest touch shattered them apart.

Nero trembled, like keeping upright was a struggle. There were tears in his eyes, but his fists were clenched so hard in fury that his knuckles had turned white.

“They’re gonna train me,” he said, voice wavering despite an obvious attempt to make it firm. “For the Order. I’m gonna be a knight. Like they’re training Credo. I’ll start on my next birthday.”

“Is that bad?” Dante said.

“The other kids said they shouldn’t. Even some of the adults.” He wiped his arm across his eyes, and when that wasn’t enough, he rubbed at them furiously. “They said I was an outsider. That they shouldn’t waste time training some…some hooker’s son! That I’m not strong enough, and I’m not one of them!”

Dante touched his guns lightly. He probably had enough bullets to kill off all the shit talkers. Goddammit, though, whole moral dilemma since half the shit talkers were apparently kids. Nothing could ever just be easy.

Right, right, probably a peaceful way to settle this. Dante wasn’t great at peaceful, but he’d give it a shot.

“Nero,” he said. “I watched you throw a rock at a demon to protect me. You were terrified, but you didn’t let that stop you. I doubt most of them would be that brave- even the adults.”

“I don’t want to be weak anymore,” Nero whispered.

“Nero, I told you my mom died,” Dante said, getting up and moving to Nero. He knelt in front of him, resting a hand on Nero’s shoulder. “She died while I hid, terrified, in a closet. I wish I’d been half as brave at 8 as you are now.”

Nero didn’t try to hold back his tears this time. He let them roll down his cheeks, throwing his arms around Dante’s neck and burying his face against Dante’s shoulder.

Dante hugged him tightly. Maybe he couldn’t save Vergil, but he could save Nero.

“I wish you were my dad, Dante,” Nero sobbed.

Dante held him tighter. Close enough, kid. Close enough.

There was not much Dante could do for Nero besides hold him and give him a shoulder to cry on. But in the end, something told him that was enough.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 3

You can find part 1 of this AU here! I’m considering turning this into an actual fic on AO3 when I have more free time to write, but for now, it’ll just be these shorter (sometimes loosely) connected parts instead! Also as I go to post this I realized I definitely messed up the timeline with Trish, but the DMC timeline is a nightmare anyway so we’ll just quietly accept my mistake too

Dante was growing very familiar with the roofs of Fortuna. He’d called Trish to tell her he’d be gone longer than expected but that everything was under control.

He wasn’t sure that was quite true. What was he hoping to gain by spending time with the kid? Wouldn’t he only be hurting Nero when he finally left?

Unless, of course, Nero left with him.

The thought was ridiculous. But it brought a rebellious little flame of longing.

Dante told himself it was because he’d gone so long without a family. He’d never considered children before, and hanging out with one a couple of times was nowhere near the same as actually being stuck raising one.

It was easier to tell himself it was because he missed his parents. It was harder to acknowledge those faint memories of Vergil smiling at him when they were Nero’s age.

He shook those thoughts off as Nero emerged from the class he’d been sitting in. A few other children ran out past him, one slamming into his shoulder.

“Hey!” Nero said, scowling.

“Go tell your mom,” the kid taunted, the others laughing and running off together.

Nero clenched his fists, that stubborn expression twisting his face. Dante had quickly learned Nero got that expression when he was trying not to try.

Nero hunched his shoulders and began walking down the street. Kyrie wasn’t with him, off practicing her singing. The older boy - Dante still hadn’t learned his name - was at another training session. Nero was clearly feeling their absence.

Well, that was no good. Dante leapt down from the roof and jogged up towards Nero.

“Hey, Nero!” he called.

Nero spun around in surprise, his lips twitching towards a smile. “Dante!”

“Got some free time today, kid?” Dante asked. “The pizza around here sucks, but I found one place I can stomach.”

Nero’s eyes were practically shining. “Sure. Okay. I have my- I brought my CDs.” He looked embarrassed at that, though Dante had already been aware the boy had been carrying them around since their last encounter.

Dante grinned. “Good. C’mon.”

He stuck to side streets. The last thing he needed was for someone to come after him for wandering around with a little kid. Fortuna wasn’t exactly welcoming to strangers, and Dante highly doubted they’d be warm to the thought of Dante spending time with Nero.

He had Nero wait outside while he went in and bought them a pizza. As he waited for it, he considered where to take him.

There was a forest outside the town. Might as well take Nero there so they wouldn’t be interrupted by crazy cultists.

“Want to get some fresh air, away from this place?” Dante asked as he went back outside with the pizza.

Nero hesitated only a moment before nodding. Dante was a little worried at how quick the kid was to trust a stranger who was nice to him.

Though, he supposed it worked to his favor that the kid grew up in a place where stranger danger wasn’t that big of a deal. Not like a lot of people passed through Fortuna.

It had Dante wondering whether Nero was born to someone who lived in the town, or if he’d ended up there another way. He decided not to bring it up. This was supposed to be a relaxing time to expose his nephew to the joys of pizza, not a time to tear off the trauma bandage.

He led Nero through the streets. Nero seemed to actually relax a little once they were just outside of town.

Still, Dante decided to be a semi responsible adult. He only led them to the edge of the forest, finding a tree stump just inside for them to sit on together. He set the box between them and flipped the lid open, gesturing grandly to it.

“The finest culinary delicacy,” he announced.

“I’ve had this pizza before,” Nero said, taking a slice and biting into it. “Credo takes us to get a slice for dinner sometimes, if his parents don’t have time to cook.”

Ah, older boy’s name mystery solved. “Well, this is piss-poor pizza, but it’ll do in a pinch. A very painful pinch.”

Nero turned his head away, but his shaking shoulders gave away his suppressed laugh. Dante lightly knocked him on the shoulder.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at my distress. This is serious. I haven’t had a good slice of pizza in almost a week. A week, Nero!” he cried.

Nero put a hand over his mouth to try and keep his laughter in, but some of it still slipped out, muffled by his hand. “You’re such a drama queen, Dante.”

“I am not,” Dante said in offense. “Oh, screw you. Where’s the music? I want to drown out the sound of your insults.”

Nero dug his CD player out of his bag, handing a small stack of CDs to Dante. Dante flicked through them, unfamiliar with all of them but picking out one with a cool cover. He passed it to Nero, who hung the headphones around his neck and started his music up for them.

Nero was eating his second slice of pizza when he broke their comfortable silence. “How come I never see you around town?”

“You’ve seen me around,” Dante said.

Nero shot him a look. Alright, smarter than Dante had given him credit for. Great, the smart-and-stubborn mix of Vergil, rolled into a tiny package.

“I’m here for an investigation. Kind of hard to investigate if you make a spectacle of yourself,” Dante said.

Surprisingly, Nero seemed satisfied by the answer. “Oh. Is it Sanctus? I don’t really like him. And I think his services are boring. But I get in trouble if I sleep through ‘em.”

“It’s a secret,” Dante said.

Nero scowled. “Everything’s a secret to kids. It sucks.”

“Yea, but then you get old and you have to pay taxes. I’d take the secrets,” Dante said.

“Um…is your investigation gonna be a while?” Nero asked, trying and failing to be subtle.

Dante pretended the kid was a master of subtlety. “Hm,” he said. “Going slower than I’d hoped, but I’m making progress here and there.”

“I could help,” Nero said, looking far too eager. “I know a lot of people in town.”

“Well, I’ll let you know if I can use you. But keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious to report back to me, okay? I’d appreciate the help,” Dante said.

Nero nodded. “Yea, you got it!”

Dante held his fist out. Nero smacked his own against it, grinning up at Dante.

That proud, mischievous grin on his little face drew a similar one from Dante. And, Dante realized, Nero wasn’t the only one who would hurt when Dante left.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 7

Find the other parts here!

Nero was emotional.

Dante wasn’t used to dealing with that; he was pretty good at controlling his own emotions, and Vergil had always been levelheaded when they were growing up. He really wasn’t used to dealing with an emotional child.

Dante had to keep reminding himself that Nero was just a little kid- Dante hadn’t even asked after his age yet, but he’d be shocked if the boy was any older than five or six. He was still learning how to emotionally regulate himself. Dante got a crash course in that after his family was destroyed.

Dante kept his distance from Nero but left more little surprises for him so Nero knew he was still around. He kept a close eye on Nero in case he got it in his head to go back to the forest again.

But he was suffering outbursts, angry at everyone around him one moment, angry at himself the next. The adults in charge of him didn’t seem to know whether to punish him for his outbursts or soothe him for his self-loathing moments that followed.

The older boy, Credo, at least tried to help Nero find a productive way to work off his anger. He took Nero outside and raced him, or battled him with toy swords, or held a competition to see who could throw rocks the farthest. Nero seemed to do better when he had something physical to do with himself.

Dante was torn on whether to train the kid or not. Sure, having something physical to do would help him, and it would be good for him to know how to protect himself.

But what if he accidentally started Nero on that same quest for power his father had lost himself to?

If Dante left it alone, the Order would eventually train Nero, and he might just focus himself on gaining enough power to prove himself to the Order. That could be enough for him.

Dante hoped it would be enough for him.

The kid’s form was sloppy when he had his pretend sword fights with Credo. But he had a surprising amount of resilience, refusing to quit even when he was clearly outmatched and exhausted. Usually, they only stopped because Credo insisted they go get a drink.

Dante couldn’t help himself as he lounged down one of the sidestreets. Nero was on his own today and Dante knew he’d take this path.

Sure enough, Nero rounded onto the street after a few minutes, headphones on. He looked up and spotted Dante, immediately pulling his headphones down and picking up his pace.

“Heya, kid,” Dante said, saluting him.

“Hi, Dante,” Nero said. He was trying to act casual, but Dante could see the eagerness in his eyes and the relaxed set of his shoulders. He’d been waiting for Dante’s reappearance.

“So, I promised you those fighting lessons,” Dante said. “Got anything you can use to practice with?”

“I have a fake sword at the house,” he said. Then he frowned. “But it’s not very- oh! Credo has a practice one from the Order. I’ll take that. I don’t have a gun, though.”

“No need. Not good for your ears,” Dante said, falling astride Nero as he made his way towards the house at a brisk pace. “Won’t Credo know you took his stuff?”

Nero shook his head. “He’s at training right now. Even if he knows, I’ve been in trouble before.”

Dante couldn’t help but laugh at that. Nero seemed pleased he’d managed to make Dante laugh.

Dante lingered outside as Nero hurried into the house to ditch his robe and grab the practice sword. He came out with it strapped to his back, his balance only a little thrown off by it.

“Hey, how’s your arm?” Dante asked as they got walking again.

Nero touched his bandaged arm. “It’s fine. I heal really fast. Kyrie says…” He trailed off.

“She says?” Dante prompted.

“She says it’s probably my mom watching over me,” he mumbled.

Ah- not quite. More like his guardian douchebag dad.

Still, quick healing was the first solid proof Dante had that Nero wasn’t entirely human. He was quick, but not abnormally so, at least not that Dante had seen. And he was tough, but again, Dante had yet to see him in a situation that required inhuman strength or endurance.

“Can I see it?” Dante asked casually.

Nero reached up and carefully unwrapped his bandages. The wound had healed noticeably, far faster than it would’ve for a normal human.

“Looks like it’s healing well,” Dante said.

Nero rewrapped his arm, seeming to think nothing strange of his quick healing. “Uh-huh. Barely hurts.”

“Good. That means I don’t have to take it easy on you,” Dante said.

Nero grinned up at him. “Better not. I can handle it!”

Dante led them just inside the forest again. Nero pulled the sword from his back, looking ready to fight anything that came his way.

“Yea, no, not happening,” Dante said, striding forward. When Nero swung at him, he easily sidestepped it and kicked Nero in the back. He yelped in surprise as he hit the ground, the sword clattering from his hands.

He immediately scrambled for it, but Dante snatched it from the ground and held it to Nero’s throat. Nero went still and Dante thought that was the end of it.

Until Nero shoved himself back and kicked to the side, out of range of the sword. He leapt to his feet, crouched low, his fists balled up for a hand-to-hand fight.

Dante couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t quit, do you, kid? C’mere, you can have this back. I was just trying to make a point about how horrible your form is.”

He held the sword out and Nero cautiously took it back. Dante knelt beside him and adjusted his grip on it. Nero’s hands were so small, he struggled to get a good grip.

“Okay,” Dante said once he was pleased enough with Nero’s grip. “Now hold it like- no, no, not like that. You’ll throw your back out. Save that for when you’re an old man.”

He spent a long while just having Nero practice his grip and basic movements. Nero was clearly frustrated at first with being reduced to such simple tasks, but as he saw improvements, his frustration turned to focus.

But even that only lasted so long. “Dante, when can I actually fight?”

“Basics first, kid,” Dante said. “You’ll lose every fight if you don’t even know how to hold or swing your sword.”

He did pick things up quickly, though. Dante pulled him over to a tree and had him practice slashing away at it, stopping him frequently to adjust his stance, or his grip, or the way he moved his arms and back.

The marks he left in the tree were noticeably deep. The kid’s strength was not mind blowing, but it was noteworthy. He shouldn’t have had that kind of strength at his age.

“You’re a natural at this,” Dante said, placing his hands on his hips. He didn’t like upsetting Nero, but he was curious. “Has anyone told you anything at all about your parents? Maybe skill runs in the family.”

Nero’s expression was that sad one, torn between anger and pain. He sliced a deep cut into the trunk of the tree.

“No,” he said. “I dunno nothin’ about my parents. Credo taught me how to use a sword.”

“Ah, yea, brothers will do that. Leave you plenty of bruises while they’re at it, too,” Dante said with a sigh.

Nero stopped hacking away, his gaze wide as he looked at Dante. “You have a brother?”

Shit. “Had. He’s- well, I lost him when I lost my mom.”

“Oh,” Nero said, looking down at the sword in his hands. “I’m sorry you lost your brother. I don’t know what I’d…Credo and I argue a lot, but I wouldn’t want to…” He tightened his hold on the sword. “But if I’m strong, then I can protect Credo and Kyrie.”

Oh, no. Bad road. Time to cut this off.

“Nero, it’s getting late. You remember what happened last time we were here past dark,” Dante said, nodding to Nero’s arm. “Let’s get you back, kid.”

“Will you teach me more?” Nero asked, refusing to move out of his stance.

“Sure, kid,” Dante said.

Nero relaxed and put the sword on his back again. “Okay. I guess I better get the sword back before Credo finds out.”

Dante took the lead, Nero falling into step beside him. He was alert, keeping his hand on the hilt of the sword as he watched their surroundings.

“Hey, Nero, you said you've never left Fortuna. Where would you want to go if you did?” Dante asked.

Nero seemed startled at the question. “I don’t know. A- A beach?”

Dante wished he hadn’t asked. Now all he could think about was bringing Nero to a beach, training him with a sword on the sand during the day and swimming in the ocean to cool off after. He could imagine Nero’s delight as he dug his toes into the warm sand or let the waves lap at his legs, the sun setting and casting a fiery glow over the water.

And instead, Dante was bringing him back to Fortuna. A town that hadn’t seemed to change in hundreds of years, inhabited by religious zealots worshiping Sparda while mocking his grandchild.

Dante chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Maybe…if he took the kid, just for a few days…

No. He couldn’t. They’d hunt him down. Even if the adults didn’t think Nero belonged, Dante highly doubted they’d just turn the other way if they thought the boy had been kidnapped.

“I hope you get to go someday, kid,” Dante said.

“Me too,” Nero said softly.

Dante wanted to scoop the kid up and run them to the nearest beach. But instead, he walked him back into town and left him to walk the dark, familiar street back to a house he did not feel at home at, with a family that was not truly his.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 8

Sorry for the delay- haven’t had much time to get at this lately! You can check out the rest here!

The toy sword clattered to the ground as Dante watched from the roof.

Credo put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath as Nero pointed his toy sword at him. Dante felt a swell of pride at the progress Nero had made from just one training session with him.

“How’d you get so good just from stealing my sword once?” Credo grumbled, snatching his toy sword off the ground.

“I practiced,” Nero said, lowering his own sword.

“You shouldn’t have practiced with a real sword. You could’ve hurt yourself,” Credo chastised. “They told us during training that some kids have cut their own toes off dropping their swords while practicing.”

“Well, they suck,” Nero said, and Dante snorted. “I don’t. And I already told you that I won’t take it again.”

“And you already know that you’re lying,” Credo said.

Nero shrugged. He kicked at the ground with the toe of his sneaker. “Even if I was, where am I supposed to take it? I’m grounded, remember?”

“You’re always grounded. That never stops you,” Credo said.

Nero tried to hide his little smirk by turning his head. Credo knew him well enough to whack him in the shin with his sword.

“Brat,” he said without malice. “Let’s go grab lemonade. You won’t get in trouble for leaving if you’re with me.”

“Kyrie,” Nero called.

The little girl was sitting away from them, hopping away with a jump rope. She stopped at Nero’s voice and set the jump rope down, jogging over to them.

“Lemonade,” Nero informed her as they got walking.

The three children made their way through the streets, Dante following silently from the roofs. Nero had been practicing with his toy sword, obviously frustrated that it wasn’t the real thing, ever since Dante had taken him for a session.

But his emotional outbursts had subsided for the moment with something to focus on now. Dante still worried about Nero following his father’s footsteps, but for now, he seemed pleased with his own progress.

The children got lemonade from a local business and made their way to the fountain, sitting on the ledge of it as they drank. Dante had to stay farther back to be out of sight, too far back to eavesdrop. He really had to steal himself a robe so he could move about the streets more freely.

With that thought, he got himself moving, taking a detour through an open window of the church the town held its Sparda-worshiping services in. It didn’t take him long to find a robe and get back out, hidden within it.

Jeez, he didn’t know how these people lived like this. He sat on the fountain ledge, the opposite side of the kids, and considered dunking himself in the water just to cool down. It was way too hot for this.

Kyrie was the only one wearing her robe, as both Nero and Credo had ditched theirs to have their play fight. But the people moving about the open area mostly had their robes on. Definitely not a town of fashion.

“-could always help me clean tomorrow,” Kyrie said.

Nero scoffed. “No way. I hate cleaning that room. And it’s your week to do it, not mine.”

“Well, you have free time now that you’re grounded again, Nero,” she said.

“Doesn’t mean I wanna use it to clean,” Nero said.

“You can use it to study,” Credo said.

“Anyone have any fun suggestions?” Nero said.

“No,” the siblings said. Nero grumbled out something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, then grunted as Kyrie kicked his ankle.

They began to gossip a bit about school. Dante zoned out of the conversation, instead wondering if he should continue Nero’s training. He’d seen the boy looking for him, but his words at the end of their first session still concerned Dante.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that it took him a moment to realize the growing commotion he heard was screaming.

He jerked up, getting to his feet as the screaming grew closer. A crowd of civilians was fleeing their way, terror on their faces.

He immediately looked to Nero. Credo had planted himself in front of the younger children, and Kyrie was gripping Nero’s arm.

“Demons!” someone shrieked as they flooded past the fountain in a panicked stampede.

“Come on!” Credo said, grabbing Nero and Kyrie and pulling them with him.

A fleeing man accidentally knocked into Kyrie, who stumbled just enough that it threw off Credo’s balance. He didn’t have a chance to release either child and dragged them down to the ground with him. He immediately grabbed Kyrie, tugging her close and shielding her head as citizens rushed past them. Nero had covered his own head, trying to inch back towards the fountain so he was out of the way.

Then the demons came.

They were riding the tails of the fleeing crowds, slashing at them. Two people fell beneath their blades, one of them still alive to scream in pain and fear.

“Don’t look,” Credo was telling the kids, trying to get them up so they could run again.

But the demons had spotted their vulnerable forms and three were lumbering over to them. Credo noticed and got them up, pushing them both away.

“Run!” he ordered.

“Credo!” Kyrie cried.

“We’re not leaving you!” Nero said in alarm.

A demon lunged at Credo before he could respond. Nero slammed into his side, and the two boys went crashing to the ground, the demon’s blade narrowly missing Nero’s shoulder.

Nero pushed himself to his feet, fists clenched. “Get away from them!” he yelled, charging at the demon.

Reckless, reckless, reckless.

Dante was already moving, guns out and firing on the demon as it reared up to strike Nero. Another slashed at Nero, but Dante dove and caught him by the back of his shirt, yanking him aside.

Dante was so consumed by his focus on the demon trying to hurt Nero that he noticed the one about to strike Credo too late. He raised his gun to fire, but the demon was already swinging its blade at Credo.

Credo had the sense to try to push himself away, but the attack still caught his leg and he cried out in pain. The demon lifted its blade, ready to bring it down on the boy and end his life.

Nero was screaming when he tackled it, throwing it off balance enough that the attack missed Credo by only bare inches.

“Screw you!” Nero cried, punching the demon in the face. “Leave him alone, you fucking bastard!”

Dante’s eyebrows raised. No wonder the kid got in trouble for his mouth.

But then he shook himself and hurried forward, catching Nero around his chest and yanking him up and back, spinning with his free arm out and shooting at the demon. Nero reached out and caught Dante’s robe to steady himself, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His knuckles were bleeding.

Kyrie was crying as she helped her brother up. Nero spotted them and squirmed to get free and run to them.

“Listen to me,” Dante snapped, shaking Nero a little. “You help him run. You get away from here. I promise I will handle this and protect these people. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Nero said. “Let me help!”

“No. Credo needs you. Help him, Nero. Get him and Kyrie to safety,” Dante said, setting him down.

Nero looked anguished at not being able to fight, but his compassion was stronger than his stubbornness, thankfully. He ran for Credo, getting on his other side to support him and helping him limp away with Kyrie.

Dante waited until they were out of sight before really bursting into action. He’d kill off these demons before the Order’s knights showed up. He didn’t trust Nero not to come running back once his friends were safe, so it was best to get this cleaned up quickly.

Once he’d slaughtered the demons and made sure the area was secure, he left the scene. He made his way towards where Nero lived, unsurprised to find Nero already running back towards the fight, unarmed but determined.

Dante didn’t try to stop him. There was no danger left to threaten the boy there. The only real threat was his own impulsiveness, and Dante couldn’t stop replaying today’s scene in his head, dread coiling in his gut.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 4

Read Part 1 here!

It was growing late, the sky darkening above them and the night growing chillier. Nero had shed his robe, but he pulled it over his legs to keep them warm now.

“I should probably get you back,” Dante said, stretching.

“Just a little longer?” Nero said, quickly. “We can stay a little longer. No one will notice I’m gone.”

Dante didn’t buy that. The adults had come for Nero the other night, and that little girl looked like she’d search every crack and crevice for Nero if he was late getting back.

But he looked so anxious at the thought of leaving, Dante just shrugged. “Sure. Punishment’s on your head though, kid.”

Nero relaxed, relief in his eyes. “Nah, I won’t get in trouble.”

Dante wondered if he should be a mature adult and return the young child back home at a reasonable hour. Then he dismissed the thought and decided the kid could stay out late, if it made him happy.

Nero was swinging his legs, as even with how short the stump was, they didn’t touch the ground. He spoke well for his age, but little moments like that kept reminding Dante just how young the boy actually was.

In his days of observing, Dante saw the boring lives the people of Fortuna lived. The idea of Nero growing up to be just another robed knight in the Order made his stomach twist.

He tried to cut off those thoughts. He couldn’t just take the kid away.

He thought of Vergil. If Vergil could not control the fate of his life, perhaps his son could.

“You ever been outside Fortuna before, kid?” Dante asked.

Nero shook his head. “I’ve been here my whole life.”

“You make it sound like a long time,” Dante said, snorting.

Nero swiped his finger by his nose, as if trying to brush off his embarrassment and put his tough act back into place. “Nah. But it’s still the only place I’ve ever been.” The tough act slipped. “What…about you? Have you been a lot of places, Dante?”

“I’ve been around,” Dante said casually.

“Really?” He had Nero’s full, wide-eyed attention now. “Can you tell me about the places you’ve been? I saw a picture once in a book of a beach. Have you ever been to one?”

Jeez, this poor kid had been stuck in this godforsaken place his whole short life. Dante sighed, then fixed a grin on his face and launched into stories of places he’d been.

He exaggerated what he did at those places, just a teeny tiny bit, but he made sure his descriptions were as honest and accurate as possible. Nero hung on his every word, leaning closer and closer to him in amazement as he spoke.

Dante was so caught up in Nero’s wonder, he didn’t notice the demon until it attacked.

It lunged forward at them and Dante snatched Nero into his arms, kicking off the stump and turning his shoulder so the demon’s attack caught his arm instead of Nero. Nero clutched Dante’s coat, his eyes still wide but filled with fright instead of wonder now.

Dante scowled at the demon. “Excuse you. We were having a conversation.”

The demon jerked forward, raising a blade where an arm should’ve been and chopping viciously at Dante. Dante leapt back, Nero tightening his hold on Dante’s coat.

Dante didn’t have his sword on him, and with Nero secured in his arms, the best he could do was one gun. Still, it would be enough if he could stay out of range long enough. He shifted Nero’s weight to one arm and pulled out a gun with his free one, firing at the demon.

Nero pressed his head to Dante’s chest, clapping one hand over his ear at the noise. He was trembling in Dante’s grasp.

But then he pulled his hand away from his ear as the demon attacked again, nearly getting another hit in on Dante. Nero shoved at his chest.

“Lemme down! Lemme down!” he cried.

“Nero-” Dante started.

“I’m slowing you down!” he said anxiously. “Lemme down!”

Well, the kid wasn’t wrong. Dante sighed. “Fine. But you hide, or else I kick your ass when I’m done kicking this thing’s ass.”

He spun out of range again and set Nero down in a fluid motion, grabbing his other gun and resuming firing. Nero darted behind a tree stump, crouching down and peeking over.

The demon managed to get in too close to Dante. He really wished he had his damn sword. He didn’t want the gunfire to draw any Fortuna citizens to their location. They were far enough from the town they should be okay, but it was still a risk he didn’t want to take.

The demon reared back to hit him, then jerked its head towards Nero before it could. Nero was standing up, a large rock in his hand. He whipped it at the demon, looking frightened and triumphant when it struck.

“I said-” Dante started in irritation.

“I’m still hidin’.”

Stubborn. So damn stubborn. His father would be so proud.

Still, it gave Dante a chance to fire on the demon. The demon swung out and Dante ducked under the blade, rolling out of range.

When he came up, he realized his mistake.

It hadn’t pursued him; it had used its own momentum to launch itself at Nero.

Nero tried to run, and the child had surprising speed. But those tiny legs of his just couldn’t carry him quite fast enough.

The attack caught his arm and he cried out in pain as he hit the ground hard, rolling and clutching at his arm. He tried to push himself to his feet to run again, kicking out with his legs to get the demon away from him.

There was no need; faster than he knew he could move, Dante was between Nero and the demon. He raised both guns and fired, fired, fired. Fired until the demon was no more.

Dante turned and knelt beside Nero. Nero had that stubborn set to his face, sniffling as he sat up.

“I’m fine!” he said, his voice firm despite the tears in his eyes.

“‘Course you are,” Dante said. “Let me see, though.”

Nero tentatively held his injured arm out. The wound was long and deep, but not deep enough to need stitches. Blood dripped down Nero’s arm.

Dante felt a flare of anger. He shoved it down and took Nero’s arm, grabbing some napkins he’d grabbed when he got the pizza. He wiped away the blood the best he could, then pressed several napkins to the wound for lack of a bandage. He took Nero’s hand and pressed it over the napkins to keep them in place.

“Yea, definitely want to clean that,” Dante said. “Let’s get you back home before that gets infected. This wouldn’t have happened if you just hid.”

“It was attacking you,” Nero said, wiping at his eyes with his free arm.

“Kid, I can handle myself,” Dante said, gesturing to his guns.

“I couldn’t just stand there and not help!” he argued.

He’d been so scared, but he’d acted anyway. Dante couldn’t help but grin at the kid.

“You’re kind of badass,” he announced.

Nero pulled his shoulders back, eyes still wet from the tears but proud at the praise. “I’m not gonna run.”

Dante ruffled his hair. Definitely a descendant of Sparda. Definitely a stubborn little brat of Vergil’s.

“C’mon, kid. You got my back?” Dante said.

Nero nodded, his lip quivering as he put more pressure on his wound, tears springing back to his eyes at the pain. He choked them back with an admirable effort. Dante hated whoever made Nero feel like his tears were such a thing to be ashamed of.

“Uh-huh. I got your back,” Nero promised.

Nero kept close to Dante as they walked, but noticeably hung back just enough that he could keep an eye out behind them. Dante glanced at his injured arm.

He was glad the kid was mostly okay. But with a wound like that, it would raise questions. Nero couldn’t hide it.

Ah, hell. This would definitely complicate things.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc unexpected ties #My writing

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Devil May Cry: Unexpected Ties Part 5

Find the masterpost here!

Dante sat on the roof, watching Nero push open the front door. He’d walked Nero home, but Nero had insisted Dante leave before he went inside.

“You gotta be secretive,” he’d said.

He was brave, there was no denying that. But he hesitated before stepping into the house.

“Nero? Nero!”

It was Kyrie, excited at first. But then she let out a horrified gasp.

Dante leapt down from the roof as Nero shut the door. He sat under a partially open window outside the home.

“Mom! Nero’s hurt!” Kyrie cried, upset.

“I’m fine,” Nero insisted. “I just fell.”

“Oh my- Nero!”

The voice belonged to Kyrie’s mother. Dante tipped his head back against the house. Dammit.

“What happened to you? The boys went out looking for you when you didn’t come home!”

“I’m fine,” Nero repeated.

“Come here. Kyrie, go find your father and brother. Tell them Nero is back,” she said.

Dante hid himself as the door opened and Kyrie ran out, yelling for her father and brother. He could hear Nero grumbling as his wound was tended to, whimpering in pain as it was cleaned.

Kyrie returned with the other two after a few minutes. Dante almost felt bad for the interrogation Nero went through upon their return, everyone demanding to know where he was and what had happened.

“Was it a demon?” It was Credo who finally figured it out. “It was. You got attacked by a demon!”

“I got away!” Nero said. “Leave me alone. I’m fine.”

“You- You can’t just go off on your own! You could’ve been seriously hurt or- or- hell, Nero, no more going out alone!” the father yelled. “You are a child. You can’t protect yourself.”

“I did fine tonight without you!” Nero snapped.

The front door banged open a moment later, the adults yelling for Nero as he darted out into the street. Dante watched him run off into the darkness.

Dante got up and stretched as the adults argued over who had chased Nero off and what they should do next. Dante felt it was pretty damn obvious; go after the kid.

He strolled down the street, having a pretty good guess of where the boy would go. The kid was emotional, but his actions were pretty predictable.

Sure enough, Dante found him hiding behind a crate on a sidestreet. Nero was hugging his knees to his chest, shoulders shaking as he fought back sobs.

“Didn’t go well?” Dante asked, sitting next to him.

Nero immediately pulled his stubborn face, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at having been caught crying. “They think I’m helpless.”

“You’re supposed to be,” Dante said, knocking his knuckles against Nero’s head. “You’re just a kid. No one expects kids to protect themselves.”

“I can take care of myself,” Nero said, wiping at his eyes. His arm had been carefully bandaged.

“It’s fine if you can’t,” Dante said. He leaned back, looking up at the sky. “I know what it’s like growing up without parents, kid. You’ve gotta learn to look out for yourself, yea? But I had parents, at least for a little bit. I wouldn’t be alive today if my mom hadn’t saved me when I was a kid- young, but still older than you. You’ll learn to protect yourself. It’s fine if you’re not there yet.”

He hadn’t meant to get sentimental like that. He felt his own cheeks flush a little that he had.

But he couldn’t stop thinking of that horrible day. He’d been terrified, even as his mother protected him and saved his life. He couldn’t imagine how terrified and helpless Vergil felt as the world burned around him, with no one there to save him.

It had twisted him. It had sent him on his quest for power.

Dante couldn’t bear to lose Nero to that fate, too.

Nero was looking at him, sniffling a little. “Will you…teach me?”

A reasonable adult would’ve said no. But Dante was picturing his home burning, his mother screaming for his brother, his heart slamming as he cowered in the closet and waited for a savior that would never return.

“Yea, sure,” Dante said. “Not the big stuff. But the basics. Need to work up those little noodle arms before you can do what I can.”

Nero looked stunned. “You mean it? You’ll teach me?”

Dante met his eyes and forced a grin. “Sure, why not?”

Nero hugged his knees tighter. “I just…wanna be strong.” His eyes watered again. “They all think I’m weak.”

“They think you’re a kid, dummy,” Dante said, flicking Nero’s ear. “Obviously they’ve never seen you throwing rocks at demons.”

Nero rested his chin on his knees. “What was your mom like, Dante? Was she nice?”

“She was,” Dante said. He wanted to tell Nero she would’ve loved him. But he couldn’t, not yet, maybe not ever. “She loved me. I loved her. But she died. Been gone a long time now.”

“I’m sorry you lost her,” Nero whispered.

“Yea, kid. Me too,” Dante said.

He started to move his arm, to put it around the boy’s shoulders and pull him close. This kid had felt alone for far too long.

But then he heard Kyrie’s worried voice calling out, “Nero? Nero, please, where are you?”

Dante stood up. “She’s worried. Don’t be a jerk and make it worse.”

Nero held up a fist. Dante smacked his to it before slipping around the corner.

Kyrie found Nero a moment later. Instead of yelling at him, which Nero seemed to expect, she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him.

“You jerk,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face against his shoulder. “I was so worried.”

Nero was shocked for a moment before he put an arm around her. Instead of pushing her away or brushing her off, he rested his head on top of hers.

“I’m sorry, Kyrie,” he said, his voice quiet, sad. “I’m okay. I am.”

“We don’t have to go back yet. But let me stay with you,” she said.

“I…okay,” he said, dropping his gaze. “If you really wanna, I can’t stop you.”

“I really wanna,” she said, sitting next to him and looping her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder.

Dante watched the two of them sit in companionable silence. He turned away, putting his hands in his pockets and heading down the street.

He wasn’t all Nero had. He couldn’t just rip Nero away from Kyrie; her presence was the only time that lonely look ever left his eyes.

Dante almost wished he’d never approached Nero. All he was doing was putting the kid through what he and Vergil had been through. He was giving Nero family, just to take it away when Dante inevitably left.

But it was too late to undo what he’d done. And he’d grown too fond of Nero to just walk away now.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Dante Sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #DMC #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #My writing #dmc unexpected ties

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