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honeydew-mel0n · 3 years

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@slightlybiggerpp :

oh yeah so basically i was thinking him being the youngest sparda being raised in hell his powers of illusion would be like grand enough to fake a crashing in the Devil May Cry (via illusioned ship) and going "missed me"

My favorite thing about this is that this would make Dante the middle child.

Featuring the readers emotional immaturity/instability and abandonment issues, as well as "good big brother" Dante.

I'm Still Here

Beer was opened, tea was brewed, but not a single job opportunity. So what does that mean? Down day at Devil May Cry, which didn’t happen as often as it used to. Not since the twins had arrived back from hell. Dante was more than willing to lounge around until something worth his while came around, but Vergil was rather restless. Down time was rather unfamiliar to him, so he would do everything in his power to be out.

But today, they sit in one room, actually taking the time to relax. It was quiet, but every living soul knows that will not last long. Either the two of them fall into a fight, or the chaos that surrounds Sparda’s blood will come to haunt them. And in this case;

The right half of the front wall explodes inward, causing the entire building to shake. The bow of a massive ship bursts through followed by a loud and excited whoop. The two lower the media they used to distract themselves, eyes locked in a comical stare through the cloud of dust and debris.

They both push outside, Yamato already in Vergil’s hand, seeing as how it’s never a few feet from him. Dante ready to summon Devil Sword Dante at any second. It was silent, all but the crumbling wall, the side of the ship coming up taller than the building itself.

Through the silence there are the echoes of footsteps on the wooden deck then a light creaking from one of the masts. A rope swings forward, a human figure swinging from it with another excited whoop. They voluntarily slip from said rope, landing with a slight stumble right in front of the bewildered men. It’s a vaguely familiar face, aged and distant.

“Miss me?”

Both of their eyes narrow, Devil Sword Dante appearing in Dante’s hand as a silent threat. “Oh come on, you can’t even recognize your own little brother? I mean, I'm hurt.” Your hand comes to rest on your chest. And then DSD vanishes. “Holy shit. It is you.”

“Well the first time I see my little brother again he destroys my shop, you got the money to fix it?” His arm comes around your shoulder. You adjust the ring on your thumb, and like that, the ship and all the damage it did was gone. His jaw goes slack.

A bottle of amber liquid is placed in front of you on the table, when you pick it up and sniff at the open mouth and cringe- it smells awful. You set it aside and look around at the lobby. Demon heads mounted on the walls, some of them full of bullet holes, others with swords through them. The lives they have lived have been long ones.

You fiddle with the ring on your thumb absentmindedly, the amber colored stone glinting under the one ceiling light. Your foot taps nervously on the concrete flooring, waiting for anything to happen. There's a grunt as the middle child sits on the couch opposite you.

“Alright, straight to business. Where have you been all this time?” You force your gaze away from the demon dead on the walls. “Take a wild guess.” He lets out a light breathy laugh, but lets you continue. “Yeah, been there since... everything went down. When I found out the two of you had been roaming around- You had already gotten out. But thanks for that, the portal the two of you created left a soft enough spot between realms.”

Dante throws his arms on the back of the couch, as if readying himself for a long story. You look over his shoulder, Your other brother walking into the kitchen without a word, as if he wished to avoid you. “Well?” “Well, what?” You say in response. “What? You think I'm going to lay out my life story for you?” He throws his hands up in defence.

The rest of the day, at least one of them was watching you while you or them tried to continue any idle small talk that would be appropriate for such an occasion. Of course you understand, it’s only fair that they’d be suspicious of you. Especially since you don’t exactly feel comfortable spilling your guts about what you’d been through.

It was awkward though, Dante tried to be friendly but Vergil, he was barely even brief with you.

The sun has gone down, and for the first time today, you were alone. Vergil was still in his room and Dante was taking his time in the bathroom, so you took the time to walk around. Looking around at the trash and knicknacks spread out around the shop. Eventually finding your way to your brother’s desk. And you were startled, greeted with a photo of someone you haven't seen or even thought about in years.

You take the picture frame in your hands, rubbing your thumb over the cracked glass. For a moment, you feel your chest twang with a deep and distant want. But it was quickly covered- boiled over with a feeling you couldn’t quite discern, but it was overwhelming. Slamming the picture frame face down, you push out the front door and sit on the front steps.

Leaving the door open behind you. You didn’t want to look around anymore. The sound of the bathroom door opening doesn’t sway you, you feel eyes, but you don’t bother to look back inside.

Dante

Well, the fact you have yet to put a sword through his chest means you are already on his good side.

Definitely didn’t expect you to show up like that, well actually, he didn’t expect you to be alive. At least, well into their lives, Vergil made his presence known. And well, you never did.

Of course he has his suspicions, but he actually wants to understand why you act the way you do. After your reaction to him straight up asking, he’ll slow down. Let you wind yourself out when you feel like it.

There really wasn’t anything he could find to prove that you were alive, trust me, he looked. Of course he gave up on the hope.

But now that you’re here, alive, there’s a sort of... relief?

Him and Vergil were only around 4 ½ around the time you were born, but he remembers watching you grow. Mom being excited over your first steps, him and Vergil being forced to watch you for a couple of minutes at a time, pulling your hair, the several times you puked on him or his toys. In his youth he thought nothing more of you than an annoying younger brother that’s only purpose was to steal mom’s attention.

He also remembers after everything went down, the absolute dread at the thought of Mom, Vergil, and you being dead.

Deep down, he’s just happy you’re okay.

Vergil

Significantly more suspicious of you than his twin.

The fact that you survived in hell, or got there in the first place, so young without being found. Especially during Mundus’ reign, and especially after what had happened to him under Mundus. How could you have possibly escaped his grasp? Unless, you didn’t.

He keeps that theory to himself, but listens carefully to everything you say or do when he’s around you. Not that Mundus is a problem anymore, but you eventually could be.

He had never had the intrigue in you that Dante did. He has several memories stored away of Dante trying to play with you but accidentally being way too rough.

He also saw you as the younger brother who took all of mom’s attention, but this time he had to compete with a loud younger twin AND and whiney baby brother.

After everything went down and he was on his own, he hardly thought of you. Vergil was so sure that you were dead, and perfectly content with the fact. That just made you one less annoyance to get in his way.

But now, he has no clue.

You don’t know why you stuck around, the whole reason you tracked them down was to see if everything you’d heard was true and to tell them you weren’t dead. You’d accomplished that, and you’d come to realize that your plan wasn’t fully fleshed out before you acted on it.

What do you do now? Follow your older brothers around like a puppy until they get tired of you?

But honestly, you enjoy it a lot more than you thought you would. (Tying to) Drink into the early morning hours and shoot the shit with Dante, quickly learning that you did not take a liking to alcohol. Staying quiet and letting Vergil go on spiels about his poetic thoughts and what they connect to, then actually asking him about what he’s referencing without making a joke about it.

And then, meeting your nephew, who was just as shocked at your existence as you were at his.

He’s a good kid, who took to yelling at your brothers for never telling him about you. Then jokingly asking if he had any more aunts or uncles.

You understood why they would have never brought you up, but deep down, something about that bothered you. They had never told anyone about you. Ever. Had they even thought about you? Maybe it’s nothing to be mad about, but you couldn’t make the bitterness go away.

In the deepest of nights during your childhood and on, the thought that they might be alive somewhere… Safe somewhere, eased you to sleep at night. That one day, you might get to see them again.

But, you guess, it wasn’t mutual.

It was a quiet night, the smell of leftover pizza from the microwave and whatever cheap tea Vergil had attempted to brew and make decent with a bit of cream wafted through the building. Pages of a book flipping, the sound of boots idely tapping on the top of his desk, and the gentle patter of rain agaist the window you’re sitting on.

You watch it roll down the glass beyond the fog of the window, your body heat causing it to turn. “Not a big fan of the rain?” You look over at your older brother, his hands behind his head. “Yeah, don’t know why though.” In the corner of your eye, you see him sit up. It’s quiet for a good while, only the sound of rain, and book pages.

And then you hear your name being called. “How much do you remember?” The air leaves your lungs, and it’s a solemn sound amongst the rain. In the corner, you hear your oldest brother shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Why do you wanna know?” It came out irritated and adenoidal, not exactly how you wanted it to, but way too late to take it back. He shrugs, trying to play it nonchalant. “Just thought I'd ask.” “Why, because you still don’t trust me?” He shifts in his seat, an expression that can only be described as ‘if the shoe fits.’ To which you chortle.

“Right, because you two are the most open people? You’ve shared what you went through, and the fact that you had a younger brother at one point. Oh, wait.” You say, sitting up, eyes locking with Dante's. “I don’t owe you an explanation of my life.”

You break your gaze, knowing the two of them were constantly glancing at you. You had already done what you had set out to do, tonight is the best time to leave. You feel as though you’ve overstayed your welcome.

You feel a pang in your chest, but... “I don’t really know what happened that night. From what I remember… I fell asleep on mom's chest, and half woke up to her laying me down on the big bed.”

The big bed had been hers and Sparda’s bed, and you three only got to sleep in it if one of you had a nightmare or were too afraid to sleep alone.

“And then I woke up to her yelling… I think it was for Vergil. I tried to go back to sleep, but- I heard her scream again, louder, then nothing else. I remembered being so afraid, but not of what... I hid under the bed, Behind all of the various trunks and jewelry boxes.”

Your brows knit softly with recollection. A small, sad, smile spreading on your lips. Vergil sets his book down, leaning forward, you seemed to have his full attention. Something changed in your voice, it was softer, more melancholy as the rain slowed to a stop.

“It smelled like mama’s perfumes, and I fell asleep again.” You still remember the warm, floral smells. They hold strong in your mind, even after all of these years. Despite having not moved an inch, your lungs wanted to heave, but you didn't give in. Watching the clouds part, the moon light split the darkness in the Capulet street before you.

“I stayed hidden for- god I don't know how long. I saw the sun come up and go down again, and when I got out- no one was there.” The distant feeling of loneliness washed over you. Wandering outside, leaving the gates completely alone for the first time. Calling out for your brothers, but never getting an answer.

That all leads into everything else, where you’d been. You don't owe them any of that, not that, that part had been asked yet tonight.

“Is that it? Is that what you wanted to know? Well, now you have it.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your words. But as it came out, it sounded less bitter… and more broken. Like every pain you had ever felt was trying to show itself. You knew better than to hide it, the ones who had taken care of your youth taught you better than to hide it.

‘It will rot you from the inside out, make you hollow and weak. And there is no use for weakness here.’

You just barely caught on to how you sounded, only by the way their expressions changed. They tried to hide their slight panic, The way your voice and expression changed… it was so… open, public. Truth be told, neither of them were the best at expressing their own griefs.

Why had you turned out so different?

You stand from the window seal, stretching and walking out the front door as if none of that had just happened. The both of them stay quiet. Vergil having no clue what to do, unlike Dante. The younger twin gives it minute before he follows the path you took, he knows where you’re going, after all he’d found you there over the course of several nights.

He doesn't know how that old, weather worn ladder didn’t break under the weight of you, but somehow it always held up. And there you were, using your coat as shielding from the wet roof below you. Eyes cast up at the small part of the sky that the clouds had moved from, and you sat quiet. He joined you, sitting parallel on the wetness beside you.

“The sky is really something here.” He tried to narrow his eyes, to see what you do. Above you rested the sky as it always had been, and always will be. Dark and decorated with tiny pricks of stars, it was unremarkable in the sense of the city’s light pollution, and surrounded by the deep grey of storm clouds.

“Really? How so?” Was followed by the screaming creak of the old ladder and footsteps. It was the eldest son, coming to join you, sitting on a wooden crate a yard away. And it too held up under his weight with no protest, unless you count his own huff.

“It's a lot different than the one in the demon realm. There it feels more distant, looming like the threats around every corner.” The other two could vouch for that, the color was always off, unfriendly. You don’t look at any of them, looking up at the few stars you could see. “I missed this sky, I know it’s so far away… but it feels right. Like a blanket.” You took a deep breath as a hand rests itself between your shoulder blades.

“It’s the same sky that has watched man grow and fall, the same sky that mom-” You felt yourself choke up.

If there's anything you remember from the last night you had before being found and taken, it was the sky. How comforting the darkness speckled with bits of light surrounding the lunar mother had felt. And how much you had missed it in decades passing.

There's an airy chuckle from beside you, his hand giving your back a light pat. “I’d say you’re right. The sky is fair, and it’ll always be above everyone's head, no different.” He glances at you as your uneven breathing becomes apparent.

You had closed your eyes, a wetness somewhat foreign to all parties present rolled down your cheeks then the curve of your neck as you tried to stabilize your breathing. “It’s raining again.” Came out as a gentle whisper amongst the distant sounds of cars and human life. He shifts his gaze to in front of him, giving your back another gentle pat.

“Sure is.”

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #male reader #youngest brother! reader #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nero is mentioned #requests #sp*ardacest shippers dni

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