#this is why she has so much villain energy ugh i am obsessed with her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

britcision · 3 months

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New day new conspiracy to be unhinged about woooooo

SO.

This right here.

The moment where Kabru reveals he’s Milsiril’s baby boy (and more relevantly the last survivor of Utaya)

Kabru telling them that he actually wanted to enlist in the Canaries directly, but couldn’t because of the racial barrier. How true that is……. Well let’s say I’m sure he wanted to when he was little, buuuuut by the time he left it wasn’t that they wouldn’t let him

And tbh the reason why is very much the next panel:

The Canaries learn he’s Milsiril’s little boy and immediately fucking claim him as theirs, asking if he’s been eating well, if he wants cake, telling him to cheer up and smile sometimes

It is notably the convicts, especially Otta and Fleki although Cithis has been leading the conversation; Pattadol is not in frame and Mithrun ruins all their fun by staying on track

Kabru is not 30 seconds out of saying he was raised by their vice commander before he is being babied, and there’s a fun read of just “well this is our child now we must care for him for Milsiril hello new nephew”

But. Given what we later learn Milsiril’s care is actually like. The room where Kabru could eat all the cake that he wanted, that he never ever wanted to return to even when freezing and starving.

Where she gave him such arduous and extensive sword training he thought he would die, with the stated intent of showing him how bad it could be to make him give up and stay with her forever.

“Wanna eat some cake” is suddenly a much darker comment, and doesn’t have a directional bubble, so I’mma pin it on Cithis on general Sketchy Bitch vibes

Now, that only makes sense if these folks know Milsiril directly, or have some way to know what her home life is like for her adoptees

(Or Cithis can read minds which let’s be honest absolutely no one needs to be true but she deserves it)

But. So does that immediate tonal shift

“Oh, you’re Milsiril’s kid. Now we care about you beyond being an interruption.”

We know Pattadol is on her very first mission. We know Cithis has been responsible for Mithrun’s care for long enough while he’s back on active duty that she gets bored of her new doll.

(And that she only started respecting him after they acquired Pattadol, whiiiiich. He got back to active duty 14 years ago. None of the other Canaries got their own timeline, but he’s also had long enough to have an established track record of getting his warden partners killed

When Flamela assigns Cithis to his wellbeing, she pretty clearly knows the extent of his caretaking issues, and this whole section of the timeline is fuzzy, but it is specifically Pattadol who is the first to tempt Cithis into telling Mithrun to hurt her

And specifically not until after he refuses that she begins to respect him)

Milsiril has been retired for the same 14 year period, taking Kabru and for some reason one of her own Canary convicts home with her, but she served with Mithrun when he initially became a Dungeon Lord 40 years pre series… and most of that squad died in Mithrun’s dungeon

(Also his lover became a snake person at some point for some reason sooooo monsterfucker ahoy)

(We know that’s the lover from both Mithrun’s initial vision and his Adventurer’s Bible comic which identifies his brother as the one with the short hair. Presumably they were not always a snake?)

None of the names he gave Kabru in his backstory refer to any of his current party members

Otta and Fleki mention Milsiril in Otta’s comic when teasing Otta about being a pedophile because she only dates halffoot women and breaks up with them when they turn 30

(This being past middle age for halffoots, who become adults at 13 and live to around 50; Chilchuck is 29.

One might expect… say… visible signs of aging to show up around 30. Reminders of how little time they have left. Although, frankly, how much free time does Otta actually have to be dating outside of work???? They’re so shorthanded Mithrun made captain the minute he could serve after Utaya)

Ahem. We digress.

Otta’s reaction (directly saying Milsiril treats shorter lived people like pets while she loves them as individuals, which Kabru Does Not Deny) might be because she’s seen Milsiril’s behaviour directly, or just being sick of the comparison. Hard to say, but Milsiril already doesn’t like elves

No, the conspiracy theory today is that CITHIS in particular has worked with Milsiril between Mithrun being rescued and Utaya’s destruction, possibly with Fleki and Otta

They’re all close to Mithrun’s age so there’s a very real possibility they were serving when Utaya fell, and either were lucky enough not to get sent there (there are so many dungeons in the world) or unlucky enough not to retire in the aftermath

Dumping Mithrun with Milsiril’s survivors makes perfect sense - the two had served together as wardens and Milsiril Barest Possible Minimum took a personal interest in Mithrun returning to duty after Utaya

She’s the one getting him to take his first steps and tells him she’ll get him back in a dungeon

Milsiril, known hater of elves, left the Canaries on good enough terms with her convicts to take one with her (Helki, shown in Mithrun’s story and Kabru’s training flashbacks - the only other survivor we know of from Mithrun’s dungeon)

And these particular convicts immediately brighten up knowing that Kabru is one of Milsiril’s; he’s in a very different position from Mithrun, who basically has direct power over their lives and deaths, but if you have a potentially unstable new captain who’s gonna be extra dependent on his convicts coming in…

Well, it’d be nice if the convicts have a reason beyond “well if both of our wardens die we can’t use magic so we will too” to keep him alive and moving

Note: they did at some point hand him directly over to fucking Cithis, who has an established track record of wrapping her captains around her little finger and doing whatever the fuck she wants anyway

(To the point that she’s left and “rejoined” the Canaries multiple times, and her behaviour with Mithrun is considered her having calmed down… while actively trying to have him hurt his subordinate wardens and plotting to kill Pattadol)

So. Not. Y’know. Convinced that anyone necessarily was thinking that particular assignment through. Although you could argue that they were just heading off the inevitable and letting her know this one is high maintenance

ANYWAY.

Tl;dr: Mithrun’s a monsterfucker, this is established fact and not a conspiracy theory

Kabru’s been adopted by the Canaries the second they know who his mom is, which may explain why no one actually tries to stop him when he grabs Mithrun later despite him not having a weapon

(Fear of Milsiril finding out they’ve hurt her boy > rescuing Mithrun or later even stopping Kabru from helping Laios repeatedly)

And Cithis, Fleki, and possibly Otta worked directly with Milsiril at one point before Utaya, which is why Mithrun was given them specifically - he was one of Milsiril’s projects too, Milsiril’s personal involvement unclear

How much this has to do with Mithrun getting all his warden comrades killed but apparently not his convicts: unclear

(Still bet Cithis “helped” with the warden before Pattadol)

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #dungeon meshi conspiracies #kabru dungeon meshi #mithrun dungeon meshi #milsiril dungeon meshi #the web of connections between these characters man #they are all spaghettis #and milsiril is the plate #this is why she has so much villain energy ugh i am obsessed with her #mithrun’s a monsterfucker #that’s his lover right there who has no gender but does have snake ass

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dreamsclock · 3 years

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hello i am obsessed with Daisy lore au, nice to meet you.

(ignore my previous ask.)

so what if George will know about Daisy's visits?

he is just walking sort of near the flower field, not even thinking about it, just minding his own business, when with a peripheral vision he sees a familiar shadow, making it's way to the flower field. he thinks it is Dream so he intends to look away and ignore him but something grabs his attention and he sees Daisy, who goes to the place where the Monster, the Villain "lives", even when everyone has been told not to go there. in the distance he, surprisingly, also sees some other children, who are talking to each other. they are having so much fun, building something little, creating something new and just playing, but there is still no Dream around. so George thinks that everything is okay and, probably, this area isn't dangerous for them anymore. he turns around to go home and never notice that he was watched by a semi-transparent grey silhouette, hiding behind the trees.

- Stjerne.

ohhhhhh this is such a sad idea,, just the two of them being so Close to interacting and just not ,,,, ugh i had to write this HHDJDJ i couldn’t help myself

warnings: death, grief, emotional distress

So Dream has moved on, George thinks, and wonders why it feels like such a kick in the teeth.

It’s a relief as well, don’t get him wrong — Dream has been hanging over his head for years as a guilty weight he couldn’t shake, haunting him at every twist and turn, and it’s good to know he must finally be at rest. But, staring out at the flower fields, at the half a dozen children playing around and building and chattering happily to themselves, there’s something in George that feels hollow at the sight of them.

It used to be him and Dream and Sapnap playing there. A long, long time ago, sure, but he still remembers it, and knowing Dream is gone, now, seeing the children play in the space the Monster had once haunted, makes George’s stomach turn.

Letting out a breath, short, determined, he tells himself it’s a good thing Dream has moved on. None of them have to feel guilty anymore, about not visiting — if anyone felt guilty in the first place, other than him. (He knows Sapnap does. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone else.) Dream is happy and at peace; the children can play where they want; and maybe, just maybe, George can move on with his goddamn life and pull himself together.

The wind ruffles his hair like a playful hand as he walks closer to the flower fields, stopping a good couple of metres away and not daring to go any closer. It still feels like it belongs to the dead, still feels like Dream, and for a second the enormity of it all is so all-encompassing that George feels like he’s being crushed.

It’s the sound of kids laughing that knocks air back into his lungs, and he exhales solidly, dragging a hand down his face and collecting himself hastily. “Daisy!” He yells. “Daisy, dinner!”

His daughter comes bounding over to him, an uncontrollable bundle of energy and cheer, babbling about the games she’d been teaching the others and what she’d been building with them, and it’s so Dream that George feels grief for the first time slide into his chest, a tangible thing that makes the words stick in his throat, sharp and cruel. Daisy is so much like him sometimes that it hurts: the universe, he thinks, is not kind to him.

“You look sick,” Daisy tells him in concern, taking his hand, “are you okay?”

George smiles down at her. She isn’t Dream. She isn’t Dream, because George will never let her go down the same path that he did, never: and because nobody else knows she’s Dreams, and if he has his way, nobody ever will. “I’m okay,” he says, squeezing her hand, “just haven’t been here in a long time. It’s kind of weird.”

“Why?” Daisy looks up at him, face surprisingly shrewd for an eight year old. George meets her eyes, stunned, because it feels like she knows more than she should, because Daisy looks like she’s judging him and sympathising with him at the same time. “Why don’t you come here? It’s pretty.”

“Yeah,” George says, stuck for a lack of a better response, “it is. It is pretty. Maybe I should come here more often.”

And with that, he begins to lead her home, too busy with Daisy’s rambling about the day to feel a pair of eyes on him, still as sharp as ever, but softer now, quieter.

Dream slips out from behind a tree, watching them both go. He knows Daisy’s dad, recognises him in a strange way that tugs on his heart and makes his eyes burn, but the thought of him ever seeing him makes childish fear run through his veins like he’s alive. It wouldn’t end well, he tells himself, and yet, a silent what if it does? buzzes in the back of his brain.

He watches them leave until all he can do is stare at the little mushroom house in the distance, eyes watering with the intensity of his focus, before turning away and returning to the kids. It’s hard to distract himself, harder to immerse himself in their games, and his thoughts are still racing long after they leave, as the sun burns low below the trees.

What if it does? His mind whispers, and he hates himself for longing. What if it does?

#> my asks !!#> my writing !!#> daisy lore au #tw death #tw grief #tw emotional distress

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keeroo92 · 5 years

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Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch32 (V x Reader)

June 15th 02:01pm

V takes as much of his own weight as he can bear, shame mixing with grim acceptance as more and more flecks of his flesh float away. His heart is already breaking. He can envision it easily, cracks mirroring his skin marring the muscle tissue within his chest as he forces himself to feel the pain. It isn’t easy – every molecule of his body that vanishes feels like a splinter being pulled. A sharp sting followed by calm relief, as if his own body were an interloper and the only path to peace was for him to vanish entirely.

It wouldn’t be peaceful back in Vergil, you know that.

As much as he wants to agree with Griffon, a small voice inside him insists that he will only be at rest if he merges. That to endure like this would be sheer agony, for not just him but for everyone who cares about him too. He remembers what it felt like to see you in pain; he would be inflicting that feeling upon you with his every waking breath if he remains.

You are such an idiot, sometimes…

Griffon sends him a slough of images, visions of joy and happiness yet to be shared with his… family.

What a strange thought.

Family.

For over a decade, Vergil had borne the weight of his isolation solemnly, the thought of ever letting someone close enough to matter unthinkable. He clawed his way to strength, imagining himself to be the last living descendant of Sparda. A heavy legacy, but one he would not fail to uphold. Strength, honor, power… The accrual of such things was all he cared about.

Not once in his wanderings had he imagined himself ever having a family again. Offspring, perhaps. To continue the line, not for his own enjoyment. But friendship? Love?

Inconceivable.

Yet here I am, being held up by my son and the woman I love, their friendship the only reason I can still hope to reach Urizen.

He shakes his head in wonder, darkly amused that he has found such bonds only to die.

I wasted so much time. Such a fool, I was. How many years could I have spent in the company of friends if I’d abandoned my obsession?

Better late than never. And I swear, the next time you think you’re gonna die I’m gonna scream.

But I am dying…

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya…

V stumbles as a high-pitched wail saturates his mind, Griffon’s insistent howling echoing within the walls of his mind. There’s no escaping the keening, though his hands still instinctively move to cover his ears as his face scrunches in irritation. You and Nero stare at him worriedly, his body held upright between the supportive arms of his family as Shadow joins in, her growling rumbles joining with Griffon’s screeching. The cacophony becomes too much to bear when Nightmare’s continuous noises of colliding rocks crashes along with the frantic screaming of his other two friends and he desperately sends his thoughts to them all.

I submit, I submit! I’m not dying!

With a grudging and suspicious energy emanating from them, his mind falls silent at last. A high-pitched ringing follows their silence, his hearing struggling to recover as you and Nero mouth something at him urgently.

Even though he can’t hear a word you’re saying, the concern in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, his damaged heart warming at your care. It’s alarming to say the least when he speaks in response and can’t even hear his own voice. He cringes apologetically as both you and Nero flinch at the volume, his reassurance that he’s alright apparently far too loud for comfort.

Damn, that worked even better than I expected!

That was entirely unnecessary.

We disagree. No more thinking about dying, or else! Got it, Shakespeare?

V sends them all a mental grimace and his acquiescence, never wanting to hear that mixture of unpleasantness ever again. The ringing in his head gradually starts to fade and he begins to regain his hearing, much to his relief. You sound far away, but at last he can put words to the motion of your lips now.

“V, what the hell? That was right in my ear!” you complain, still cringing. Nero clearly shares the sentiment, his head cocked as far away as possible from V’s mouth. He drops his voice to a whisper, carefully watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you.

“Apologies… I couldn’t hear anything for a moment,” he murmurs cautiously. His efforts are rewarded as you smile gratefully before confusion sets into your expression.

“Why couldn’t you hear?” you ask, mystified.

“Griffon… punished me for a thought he didn’t approve of by screaming in my mind. Shadow and Nightmare joined in as well,” he replies softly, looking at the ground in shame as he easily predicts your next question.

“What thought did Griffon disapprove of?”

He glances apologetically at you as he mumbles his response.

“That I am dying…”

As expected, you don’t react well, rolling your eyes and sighing in annoyance. You glare daggers at him, voice dripping with your frustration.

“Damnit, V! Why do you have to make it so effing hard to save you?” you cry exasperatedly. Nero coughs, stifling a laugh as best he can at your censored yet scolding tone. Your eyes snap to the young warrior, easily hearing his amusement.

“Something funny, Nero?” you ask, daring him to say the wrong thing. He glances at V, a shared moment of brotherhood as your anger spews at them both.

“Sorry, Y/N. You just sounded so much like Kyrie when I load the dishwasher wrong. Or leave the laundry in the washer too long. Or… well, you get the idea,” Nero replies sheepishly, his free hand rising to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. V can’t help but smirk at the idea of such a domesticated lifestyle for the brazen warrior, his energy seeming completely opposed to home life.

Naturally, he tries to picture himself in the same circumstances. What would it be like to have more sets of clothing, enough to wear and to wash? What would your shared home look like? Even though you had never discussed it, he can’t fully imagine a home life in which you don’t live with him. Would you be a messy roommate?

It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I could manage some basic cleaning.

He’s completely unaware of the soft smile on his lips, the faraway look in his emerald eyes as he pictures a bright kitchen, a large window to let the sun shine through. It’s easy to picture you cooking; he’s seen you prepare meals several times now. He knows the twist of your lips as you cook, humming slightly as you stir whatever dish you’ve decided to try. He’s not picky, his tastes not refined enough to know what he likes and doesn’t like.

He can see the glow of happiness surrounding you in his vision, the kitchen bright and alive with small pots of herbs and flowers. He’d like to try gardening, the ability to coax life along and watch it bloom sounds lovely. Would you want pets? A dog? Shadow might have some complaints, but if it made you happy…

What about children?

It would be only natural for his small family to grow in the same way others’ have for countless generations, yet the idea makes him uneasy. Fatherhood… His eyes peek at Nero as his thoughts turn to his past failures, his inability to fulfill his duties due to his own stupidity. The vague divide that separates him from Vergil is still hazy on that much, on Nero and his mother. What if he failed again? His throat tightens uncomfortably, eyes stinging as he blinks the unshed tears away.

I will not fail again.

Your agitated voice startles him from his reverie, though he carefully sends the image to Griffon for later use, already knowing how much it means to him.

“That’s very sweet, but so not the point,” you inform Nero before returning your ire to V. “Look, I can only do so much to help you. You need to help yourself, too.”

He shifts uncomfortably under your stern glare, your admonishment striking true. He holds your gaze as he replies solemnly. “The truth is… I wanted to be protected and loved. But I was alone. My only choice was to survive.”

He shakes his head ruefully, obsidian hair waving in front of his eyes as he smirks at you from behind the dark curtain. “I sometimes forget that I’m no longer alone,” he concludes softly.

You sigh and shake your head, anger seeping away as your shoulders shake slightly with the onset of your tears. You wipe them away furiously, grimacing.

“Damnit, I’m so tired of crying! Ugh, let’s get moving and finish this bullshit!” you exclaim exhaustedly, motioning with your free hand and stepping forward again. V and Nero fall into step beside you in silence, both thoughtful as they approach the end of this journey.

________________

Only a few short minutes pass before you start to hear the echo of voices nearby, and your trio increases the pace as soon as you all realize who is speaking.

“Hey, is that the damn fruit you’ve been jabberin’ about? Doesn’t look so special to me,” Dante’s confident voice calls out nearby. It sounds like it’s coming from ahead, maybe a little from below. You quickly step closer and closer to the source of the voice, hearing Dante getting louder as you approach.

“Yep, this is where it all started. That day mother saved me and... left you behind. The thing you don't know is, she tried to save you, too. She kept searching and searching... Until it killed her.” Dante explains.

A dark voice echoes through the narrow passage, its cadence villainous to the point of near absurdity.

Urizen.

“I have no recollection of this tale, or this place. It's all an illusion, created by this extraordinary fruit. It's power, you see, is all I ever wanted,” it states calmly. Your trio is trotting now, desperate to reach the site of the climactic battle before it’s too late. Pure, unbridled terror courses through you, realizing the moment of truth is at hand.

It’s too soon! We need more time!

Your eyes drift to V’s arm, wrapped over your shoulders for support. His skin is so cracked it reminds you of a lizard molting, flakes drifting away with every step he takes. He pants heavily, clearly struggling to keep up. The grimace twisting his features is horrifying; V no longer has the strength to hide how much pain he’s in, his focus entirely resting on reaching Urizen before Dante deals the death blow.

Nero catches your worried gaze over V’s lowered head, nodding forward with a raised eyebrow.

Yeah, I got this.

“Nero, go! We’ll catch up,” you exclaim hurriedly. He shoots you a grateful smile and sprints forward, leaving you to take V’s weight alone. He gasps in pain at the shift, eyes clenching tight for a moment before his grim resolve returns.

“I will have everything!” you hear Urizen’s voice declare, thick with darkness and foreboding. You share a glance with V as you mentally stumble to the same conclusion.

The fruit is ready.

We’re out of time.

You hear the echo of an explosion, then Nero’s exuberant laughter.

“Not today, jackass!” the young warrior cries from somewhere below you. Ahead, you can see an otherworldly glow emanating from around the corner. You grit your teeth and trudge forward, almost dragging V’s flagging feet forward.

“Heh, I did say I’d carry you to Urizen if I had too…” you grunt at him, remembering the moment you discovered he’s ticklish. He smirks in return, a single chuckle escaping his twisted lips.

“You ready to do this, Vergil? It all ends here!” Dante shouts, Nero’s whoop of agreement following quickly. Your heart clenches painfully tight as you hear the sounds of battle, metal hitting metal and raucous cries from the two white haired Sparda men. You round the corner at last and find a glowing hole, the same dim light you had noticed before revealing its source. A glance down the hole confirms your suspicions, spotting Nero reloading his pistol below.

You can’t seem to catch your breath as you carefully help V to the brink, your mind racing with a powerful mix of terror, hope, sorrow and apprehension.

Terror, knowing that the demon king is just below your feet, his powerful attacks making the ground tremble beneath your feet.

Hope, that you and everyone you’ve come to care so much about make it through this in one piece.

Sorrow, that you have run out of time to prepare. Will it be enough?

Apprehension, that V could still be absorbed into Vergil once more.

What if I’ve been wrong this whole time? What if it all falls apart?

What if I lose him?

You bite your lip anxiously, meeting his emerald gaze with tears threatening to spill yet again. His frail, cracked arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, possibly the last one you’ll ever share with your beloved poet. You choke back a sob and lean into him, memorizing his scent, his warmth as best you can.

“Are you ready?” he inquires, voice achingly strained. You take a stuttering breath, grit your teeth and focus your mind on what comes next. You strengthen your resolve, determined to do everything within your admittedly limited power to keep V alive.

“I have to be. It’s time,” you reply. He flicks his wrist and Griffon’s markings on his arm lighten, the bird taking form from the shadowy shards nearby. Without a word, he flaps forward and takes V’s outstretched arm, bringing you both down into the chaotic arena below with a meek grunt. Even he’s feeling the effects of V’s rapidly worsening health.

The poor avian demon does his best, but you and V still end up crashing the last few feet as he vanishes suddenly. You land feet first, the impact quickly toppling both you and V over. He lands with a wheeze on top of you, his slight weight barely enough to expel the breath from your lungs.

Only once he rolls off of you and you stand do you absorb the insanity in all directions, gaze sweeping across the landscape quickly.

At first glance, you seem to be on a dirt road in a grassy field, healthy and normal trees dotting the hillside nearby. Clouds decorate the baby blue sky above, a startling backdrop for the importance of the next few minutes. A wrought iron fence meets an expanse of stacked stone in front of an idyllic grey house, cracked masonry contrasting sharply against a red roof. A swing hangs from a tree in the front yard, rope still as if the world is paused. Holding its breath. A small bay on the other side of the house has a small wooden boat parked against a rock, the pier in the distance seemingly forgotten.

Beautiful… what is this place?

Before you have a chance to voice your thoughts, a metallic ringing noise draws your attention back to the heated fight in the center of the area. A gasp of fear escapes you as you behold Urizen for the first time, his monstrous form so much worse than you’d imagined with its orange eyes and cruel spikes, long tendrils extending from his spine. The ground surrounding his massive feet is stained red, the scorched earth matching the roof of the house.

Dante and Nero stand nearby, both with their absolutely enormous swords drawn and already stained with ichor. As your stunned eyes watch, Dante disappears, reappearing in the blink of an eye a few feet closer to his foe in midair. He lunges forward, his blade slicing at Urizen’s wrist savagely. Nero streaks forward as well, his own blade sinking into the blueish-grey flesh of the demon’s calf.

Urizen kicks at the young warrior fiercely, sending his body flying across the stage. A loud snap echoes as he hits the ground, but he sits up instantly, cradling his broken wrist but still able to fight. A blue glow swings your eyes back to Dante as he darts away from the chuckling demon’s attack, the blue circles on the ground where he’d just been standing erupting forcefully.

“We should do our best to remain hidden,” V advises suddenly. You nod, Urizen’s strength obviously too much for your meager skills to face. You follow the poet to hide behind a small wooden shed, carefully peeking out from your shelter periodically to watch the conflict.

This is so far beyond what I could’ve imagined… What the HELL am I doing here?

You peek around the corner. Urizen’s clawed fingers are extended in a gesture reminiscent of an invitation to dance, several ethereal swords materializing around him and streaking forward at Dante.

You duck back again, heart palpitating wildly against your ribs as you force yourself to take a deep breath to ease your panic. V sits silently beside you, audible gasps the only evidence his shaking, flaking form is still alive.

A loud yell; you take another peek. A fireball with a diameter the size of your arms from fingertip to fingertip is heading straight for Nero. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood as he rolls away just before it hits him with a defiant laugh, his carefree attitude making you worry like a mother hen.

Back to hiding, then.

V unsteadily takes your hand in his, fingers threading through yours like two puzzle pieces meeting. You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles softly while trying to ignore the numerous lines across his skin and smiling at him as reassuringly as you can manage.

He needs me more than Dante and Nero right now.

You stifle your paralyzing fear, shoving it into a box and throwing it in the darkest corner of your mind as you wrap the poet in your arms. You hold him close, whispering your love and support for him amongst the loud crashes and booms that echo from the bloody battle. You stroke his hair soothingly; it’s the only portion of him that doesn’t feel dry and ravaged to your touch, and you take comfort in it almost as much as he does.

The fighting continues in the background for what feels like both far too long and far too short, the moment you’ve been dreading finally arriving as a tremendous crash rattles your bones with Urizen’s fall. You pull back and meet V’s petrified emerald eyes, forcing your voice to be steady and calm as you speak.

“Don’t forget to think of the things that make you strong. I love you, and I swear I will never abandon you,” you remind him with a teary smile. You lean forward to press your lips to his, pouring every last iota of adoration and protectiveness into the kiss in a final effort to remind him what’s worth living for.

“Guys! You can come out now!” Nero calls out. You pull away with a sigh, standing and reaching down to help V rise. Your steps are the heaviest they’ve ever been as you emerge from your hiding spot, Nero’s cocky form standing with Dante’s a few dozen feet from where the demon king lies, his blood soaking the dirt beneath him.

“So that’s really the other half of my father,” Nero comments disgustedly as you and V approach slowly. Urizen’s gurgling breath struggles through his bloody lips before you and you shudder in revulsion.

“I'm afraid so,” Dante responds sympathetically.

V steps forward slowly, almost all his weight on his reliable cane as he approaches his other half. You instantly dash over to him, worried that if he gets too close he’ll merge. He glances at you but doesn’t back away when you tug at his hand, determined to speak to his demonic counterpart.

“In the last thrones of defeat, I see,” V observes with clear amusement.

“You...” Urizen answers back, but he can’t even finish the thought as his blood stains the ground crimson. Dante adjusts his sword and steps forward with a resigned grin.

“V, get back! Things are about to get really messy,” he instructs the obsidian haired man with a sigh.

“No! Please... Let me. It needs to be me. Please,” you beg the man. He pauses, but seeing as his enemy is already too weak to even speak coherently, he shrugs and steps back.

“Suit yourself,” he replies. You smile gratefully at him before turning to face V.

“It’s time. Tell Griffon to send you everything, and don’t come any closer. I love you, I’ll be right back,” you remind him once again, squeezing his trembling fingers and wrestling the tears from your eyes as you look into his for what could be the last time. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously, nodding. You step backward, holding his hand as long as you can before you’re forced to drop it.

Your senses go into overdrive as you turn to face Urizen, time dilating to a near standstill as you approach his defeated form. You can feel the rough texture of a dirt clod crack under your next step. Goosebumps rise on your arms at the stillness of the air, not a single other person moving. You can smell the tang of Urizen’s blood, coppery and somehow tainted in your nostrils. The gurgling final gasps of the demon king echo in your ears in a sick pattern that matches the sound of your own exhalations. You watch the horrific eyes on his torso blink as you reach him at last.

You are so very tempted to spit on his face, say a clever insult or find some way to rub his face in his defeat, but any reaction of Urizen’s could endanger V. Could make him pull at the poet’s energy at the most critical moment and bring about his death. So, you remain silent, face held carefully blank as you climb onto his huge chest. Your foot slips in the blood for an instant, but you manage to catch yourself by grabbing one of the bony horns coming from his shoulder. Your thoughts race at dizzying speed as you unsheathe your sword.

You are poison.

It’s my job to cure the world of you. I took an oath.

Yet without you, V would not exist.

So, thank you, Vergil.

Thank you for setting him free, for giving me the gift of his existence. Thank you for being so foolish as to cast him aside. Thank you for Nero, too. He’s the brother I never knew I needed. Thank you for bringing us all together, even though the cost is too damn high. Thank you for helping me see how much was missing from my life, and for giving me the means to fill the void.

Now die.

You take a deep breath, glancing at V once more to see his eyes locked on you, features twisted in an expression of how fearful he is. You smile at him, lining up your sword with the largest eye on Urizen’s chest. You mouth those three little words to V before closing your eyes, begging any deity who can hear you to make this work as you place all your weight on the blade, pushing it straight into the demon’s heart.

________________

You step away with a pained look in your eyes and he stifles the urge to take your place and end this himself with every last scrap of his considerable will power. He watches you step closer and closer to his other half with dread, too focused on you to remember to do as you’d told him.

Luckily for everyone, Griffon is paying better attention.

Hey genius, remember what you need to do!

His faithful friend sends him an image, a familiar dream where his grey stubble tickles you as he kisses your wrinkled cheek, his liver-spotted hands holding yours tightly. Yet even with that, he struggles to focus, the duty he took on himself upon his creation weighing heavily on his mind.

Help me, my friends!

A torrent of images floods his minds eye, most from Griffon but a few hazy snapshots from Shadow and Nightmare too. He closes his eyes to focus all the more on them.

The glint in your eyes as you looked at his face for the first time.

The press of your body on his in the back of Nico’s van, shoved against him by her insane driving.

The thoughtful gleam in your beautiful eyes as you talked to him about poetry, the first person to do so.

The first time you touched him of your own accord, laying your hand on his shoulder after his warning.

You, leaning on his shoulder eating trail mix.

Your warm arms engulfing him when your clever sheath was proven to be a success.

Your hand stroking his hair.

Kissing your wrist.

Please… I need more!

The images come faster, a rapid spiral of memory spinning through his consciousness even as he feels more tiny flecks of his body vanish, a mirror to Urizen’s decaying breath.

The touch of your hand on his feet, forcing him to summon Griffon and get over the last ten feet of that wretched cliff.

The blood and dirt covering you in the library; evidence of what you’d done to save his life.

The pretty blush on your cheeks as you offered to wash his clothes.

The low moan when he washed your hair.

Your victorious smile when you started the motorcycle.

V opens his eyes for a split second, checking your progress. You’re almost at Urizen now, your hair swinging with each slow step you take away from him. His chest feels tight, stomach heaving oddly and skin prickling in anxiety.

Keep going!

Tasting your fingertips mixed with pasta sauce.

The way your steps faltered as he teased you on your way to the shower.

The way you’d laid out clothes and turned the blankets for him.

Your lips, the first time he’d tasted heaven.

Your soft skin under his fingertips as he first learned how to please you.

How you tasted.

The sounds you made.

Don’t stop there!

The way you’d looked up at him with your lips around him.

Waking up beside you.

Riding up to Nico and Nero still pressed against you intimately.

Nero’s brotherly warning.

Your tender care after his hip injury.

Your voice reading him his favorite poem.

Your foot traversing his thighs as he admitted he was yours.

Your voice saying you were his in return.

V opens his eyes again, seeing you climbing up onto Urizen’s chest carefully. You almost slip back down, the viscous blood giving you trouble. V’s world lurches uncomfortably as he is struck with vertigo. He can’t breathe, can’t focus as sheer panic envelops him.

HURRY, IT’S NOW OR NEVER!

The bliss of being inside you.

The moment he knew he loved you.

Saying it out loud.

You saying it back.

The sadness in your eyes when he told you his fate.

Your refusal to accept it.

Your stubborn search for a way out, and your theory he prays will work at this very moment.

Playing truth or dare, you helping him bond with Nero and Nico.

Nero and Nico agreeing to help him after hearing the truth.

Nero, calling him your boyfriend.

You, calling him your partner.

He opens his eyes once more to see you raise your sword high and plunge it down into Urizen’s chest with a roar of defiance. V falls to his knees as he feels the cold steel in his own heart, the link between him and Urizen letting him feel as his other half dies.

He can feel Urizen fading, feel his life force ebbing away. He can feel his own soul reaching out to meld with Urizen’s once more, feel the union approaching. It whispers to him, urging him to let go and stop fighting, how easy it would be to surrender. Abdicate all the responsibility he’s taken onto himself, let the chips fall where they may. Rest, at long last. Let his aching body go, release the crumbling flesh that has been both a taste of freedom and an inescapable prison.

A final set of memories flashes through his mind, Griffon’s desperate last hope mixing with his own.

You calling him grade-A beef.

Joining his body with yours atop that brown vehicle.

You, pulling him to safety while Griffon was absent.

Nero, setting him, you and Dante straight after a battle.

You, punching Dante for his flirtations.

Reconciling with Dante.

Finding out that Nero is his son.

How you’d treated his wounds while he battled for his three friends.

You quoting William Blake to him, the perfect response to his idiocy.

The gently urging voice suddenly sounds far less appealing, his resistance returning in a flash of fire in his belly.

NO!

MY SOUL IS MINE! YOU CANNOT HAVE IT! I AM NOT VERGIL! I…! AM…! V!!!

#dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmcv #v x reader #vitale #devil may cry #reader insert #my writing #op #dmc nero #SBHS

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lethargyspecialist · 6 years

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Masks: The Leftovers, part 1 - There’s no “Inertia” in “Team”

In which our self-obsessed sea slug slime girl supervillain-turned-heroine, aka Cerata, meets her new mentor and relates her woes to her incarcerated dad, aka Doctor Diluvian.

Dear father,

Life on parole remains insufferable. They’ve paired me with this Yang kid as my “mentor”, even though he’s barely older than me. Plus he’s some kind of actual energy vampire or something? I’ve seen him do it. Everyone says my powers are gross, but at least I don’t literally eat people’s souls or whatever it is his weird magic stuff does. And what’s to stop him just sucking out all my youthful grace the moment he feels like it? He seems to be taking every opportunity to get his hands on me, after all. He says he’s the nice one and it’s his sister I should be worried about, but that’s definitely what the evil twin would say. If he tries anything with those hands, I’ll melt them with my acid. That’ll teach him.

Anyway, for now I’ve got to work with him to earn these Hero Credits and get AEGIS off my back so they can’t just throw me in prison for any little misdemeanour when they feel like it. Except our case worker seems to be terrified of us? He barely ever shows up, and when he does he’s always wearing a hardhat and armour jacket, and he doesn’t stick around. I don’t know if our 100% factual reports of my excellent hero-ing are even getting through. I guess I could just dangle him off a rooftop until he promises to tell AEGIS I’m reformed and they can stop monitoring me but I don’t think that will work. (If there’s any prison guards reading this letter, don’t worry, that’s just a funny joke and I’m not going to do that. Probably.)

So I’m in my room at Aunt Sally’s place, watching the news, and Yang phones me up. There’s this random loser driving off from a bank job in some fancy sports car, and nobody chasing her yet. It’s low hanging fruit, I guess, so I tell Yang sure, I’ll put in a few hero hours today, I’ve got nothing better to do. I shout to Aunt Sally that I’ve got to go hero, and grab the bland cheap anti-acid coated coat AEGIS so generously paid for – it’s getting pretty cold out, and my costume might at least be more fashionable but it doesn’t cover so much, because I need my flexibility. (Can my body straight-up freeze in the cold? And then shatter? I don’t really want to test that. And I guess it’s not like you have access to your research notes in jail so we’re not going to find out).

Yang’s already there by the time I’m out the door of my apartment block, of course, and declares a team meeting (Really? There’s only two of us) to figure out how we’re going to catch that car. Yang tells me to just “swing from street lamps or something.” Yeah, great idea, Mr. Mentor. I don’t think he appreciates how difficult it is to keep up momentum without missing a handhold (well, tentacle-hold, whatever), slipping, hitting a helicopter... No, he doesn’t get it. He just runs really fast (since when do vampires run really fast? Has he really just stepped out of Twilight or something?) And grappling fast enough to catch a sports car? No thanks, I don’t want to be a (temporary) puddle on the street. Again. Maybe I’ll practice when he’s not around and then do it perfectly. To show him up, obviously. Not because he told me to.

So anyway, of course I say no, and he just scoops me up and tries to carry me over his shoulder while he runs really fast. I protest, of course – if he’s really going to do this to me, he’s got to hold me proper. Princess style. Which he does, at least, but that’s hardly the point. It’s demeaning. And his embrace isn’t even warm, because he’s a spooky vampire boy or whatever. And we catch up, naturally, because super speed, and he just throws me at the car. Without asking. So I’m rolling through the air, shouting at him, and I decide I didn’t sign up for this and it’s not worth it so I snap out my arms, grab a nearby tree – by this point we’re on the road through the forest outside the city - and leave him to get on with it while I watch.

Which would have been great, except halfway through the fight with this random D-list villain, an actual alien spaceship lands right on top of us. And Yang just breaks off the fight to go see if anyone inside is hurt, which leaves him completely open to Trash Momma (yeah, she shouted it, apparently that’s her name) so I have to step in and protect him. So I don’t look bad. I don’t get these heroes – what’s the point of rushing to try to save people if it means other people have to save you? Now that’s selfish. On the plus side, this gives me the opportunity to blow off some steam destroying this loser, and nobody can tell me off because it’s what heroes are meant to do. It’s over really quick though, because I crush her against the side of the space-pod-thing with my first hit. And then the alien space person inside the ship apparently screams at Yang for some reason, which isn’t what I expected but it’s pretty funny. Trash Momma (ugh) takes the chance to slip free and throw the entire ship at me, which is rude considering she’s already lost but whatever. I snap my arms back and reach up to catch it, and in fairness it’s a good attempt, right, because this thing is heavy, and I end up gracefully parrying it off at an angle. Where it lands and turns a whole stretch of forest into a trench instead. At this point the heroism to collateral damage ratio isn’t looking great, and I’m in an even worse mood, and Yang pops back out of the pod, totally fine, and tells me the damage is my fault now, because I touched it last. Which is bullshit. So now I’ve got to stop the bad guy, again, but she grabs my arms and swings me right over her head while Yang runs to catch me before I slam into the tarmac. Which again, I could definitely survive on my own since I’m, you know, shock absorbent now. But still, he catches me. And he holds me right! And then puts me down when I tell him to. Maybe my mentor is actually learning. Finally, the space alien girl graces us with her presence, and melts the pavement somehow, and traps Trash Momma, for real this time. She and Yang agree we should go before AEGIS show up, since this whole thing’s kind of a bust at this point. Because apparently they’re best friends now or something. In fact, they tell me we need to get in the ship – you know, the one that just crashed. They won’t tell me what’s going on and why I should trust her, and I’m uncomfortable with this whole situation, so I decide to smash the ship around for a bit until they talk straight. Of course, when I reach over, I can’t lift it now suddenly. So I compromise and hit it with a crushed tree trunk for a bit instead. (How can all the damage from the ship be my fault if I can’t lift it, anyway? I think there’s some weird space science going on with its weight. Whatever, AEGIS, if you’re reading this, you weren’t there and you can’t prove that I did cause all the damage to the forest. Please don’t take my Hero Credits away.) Yang tells me he and the alien girl have a mutual friend. I’m pretty sure Yang doesn’t have any friends, so I ask him if the “friend” is his evil sister. He says yes. Alien girl addresses me for the first time, to say that Yang’s sister is a bitch, and nothing else. It’s the most sense either of them has made so far, and I can hear an AEGIS VTOL approaching, so I shrug and get in. I’m not letting those two fly off and pin all this mess on me. This team – my team, the team that’s me and Yang - is meant to be all about me and the whole path to redemption they promised me. And now he’s buddying up with a complete stranger like the share so much, and they’re talking about his sister all the time, who I’ve never met. I used to think he made her up to make himself sound better by comparison. If they’re so obsessed with her, maybe I’ll at least get to fight her at some point?

For now, though… how am I going to convince people that I’m not an alien or sea dracula when I’m hanging out with an actual alien and an actual vampire? Honestly, I’m the only normal person on this team.

~ Vikki

#Masks #RPGs #Fic #Superheroes #Debatably...

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keeroo92 · 5 years

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Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch32 (V x Reader)

Apologies, everyone. Going through all my SBHS posts and I realized this chapter never got posted here. Whoops!

Chapter 32 One Last Kiss

______________________________________________________________

June 15th 02:01pm

It wouldn’t be peaceful back in Vergil, you know that.

You are such an idiot, sometimes…

Griffon sends him a slough of images, visions of joy and happiness yet to be shared with his… family.

What a strange thought.

Family.

Not once in his wanderings had he imagined himself ever having a family again. Offspring, perhaps. To continue the line, not for his own enjoyment. But friendship? Love?

Inconceivable.

Yet here I am, being held up by my son and the woman I love, their friendship the only reason I can still hope to reach Urizen.

He shakes his head in wonder, darkly amused that he has found such bonds only to die.

I wasted so much time. Such a fool, I was. How many years could I have spent in the company of friends if I’d abandoned my obsession?

Better late than never. And I swear, the next time you think you’re gonna die I’m gonna scream.

But I am dying…

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya…

I submit, I submit! I’m not dying!

Damn, that worked even better than I expected!

That was entirely unnecessary.

We disagree. No more thinking about dying, or else! Got it, Shakespeare?

“Apologies… I couldn’t hear anything for a moment,” he murmurs cautiously. His efforts are rewarded as you smile gratefully before confusion sets into your expression.

“Why couldn’t you hear?” you ask, mystified.

“What thought did Griffon disapprove of?”

He glances apologetically at you as he mumbles his response.

“That I am dying…”

As expected, you don’t react well, rolling your eyes and sighing in annoyance. You glare daggers at him, voice dripping with your frustration.

“Something funny, Nero?” you ask, daring him to say the wrong thing. He glances at V, a shared moment of brotherhood as your anger spews at them both.

It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I could manage some basic cleaning.

What about children?

I will not fail again.

Your agitated voice startles him from his reverie, though he carefully sends the image to Griffon for later use, already knowing how much it means to him.

“That’s very sweet, but so not the point,” you inform Nero before returning your ire to V. “Look, I can only do so much to help you. You need to help yourself, too.”

He shakes his head ruefully, obsidian hair waving in front of his eyes as he smirks at you from behind the dark curtain. “I sometimes forget that I’m no longer alone,” he concludes softly.

You sigh and shake your head, anger seeping away as your shoulders shake slightly with the onset of your tears. You wipe them away furiously, grimacing.

______________________________________________________________

Only a few short minutes pass before you start to hear the echo of voices nearby, and your trio increases the pace as soon as you all realize who is speaking.

A dark voice echoes through the narrow passage, its cadence villainous to the point of near absurdity.

Urizen.

It’s too soon! We need more time!

Nero catches your worried gaze over V’s lowered head, nodding forward with a raised eyebrow.

Yeah, I got this.

“I will have everything!” you hear Urizen’s voice declare, thick with darkness and foreboding. You share a glance with V as you mentally stumble to the same conclusion.

The fruit is ready.

We’re out of time.

You hear the echo of an explosion, then Nero’s exuberant laughter.

You can’t seem to catch your breath as you carefully help V to the brink, your mind racing with a powerful mix of terror, hope, sorrow and apprehension.

Terror, knowing that the demon king is just below your feet, his powerful attacks making the ground tremble beneath your feet.

Hope, that you and everyone you’ve come to care so much about make it through this in one piece.

Sorrow, that you have run out of time to prepare. Will it be enough?

Apprehension, that V could still be absorbed into Vergil once more.

What if I’ve been wrong this whole time? What if it all falls apart?

What if I lose him?

Only once he rolls off of you and you stand do you absorb the insanity in all directions, gaze sweeping across the landscape quickly.

Beautiful… what is this place?

This is so far beyond what I could’ve imagined… What the HELL am I doing here?

You peek around the corner. Urizen’s clawed fingers are extended in a gesture reminiscent of an invitation to dance, several ethereal swords materializing around him and streaking forward at Dante.

Back to hiding, then.

He needs me more than Dante and Nero right now.

“I'm afraid so,” Dante responds sympathetically.

“In the last thrones of defeat, I see,” V observes with clear amusement.

“You...” Urizen answers back, but he can’t even finish the thought as his blood stains the ground crimson. Dante adjusts his sword and steps forward with a resigned grin.

“V, get back! Things are about to get really messy,” he instructs the obsidian haired man with a sigh.

“No! Please... Let me. It needs to be me. Please,” you beg the man. He pauses, but seeing as his enemy is already too weak to even speak coherently, he shrugs and steps back.

“Suit yourself,” he replies. You smile gratefully at him before turning to face V.

You are poison.

It’s my job to cure the world of you. I took an oath.

Yet without you, V would not exist.

So, thank you, Vergil.

Now die.

______________________________________________________________

Luckily for everyone, Griffon is paying better attention.

Hey genius, remember what you need to do!

Help me, my friends!

A torrent of images floods his minds eye, most from Griffon but a few hazy snapshots from Shadow and Nightmare too. He closes his eyes to focus all the more on them.

The glint in your eyes as you looked at his face for the first time.

The press of your body on his in the back of Nico’s van, shoved against him by her insane driving.

The thoughtful gleam in your beautiful eyes as you talked to him about poetry, the first person to do so.

The first time you touched him of your own accord, laying your hand on his shoulder after his warning.

You, leaning on his shoulder eating trail mix.

Your warm arms engulfing him when your clever sheath was proven to be a success.

Your hand stroking his hair.

Kissing your wrist.

Please… I need more!

The images come faster, a rapid spiral of memory spinning through his consciousness even as he feels more tiny flecks of his body vanish, a mirror to Urizen’s decaying breath.

The touch of your hand on his feet, forcing him to summon Griffon and get over the last ten feet of that wretched cliff.

The blood and dirt covering you in the library; evidence of what you’d done to save his life.

The pretty blush on your cheeks as you offered to wash his clothes.

The low moan when he washed your hair.

Your victorious smile when you started the motorcycle.

Keep going!

Tasting your fingertips mixed with pasta sauce.

The way your steps faltered as he teased you on your way to the shower.

The way you’d laid out clothes and turned the blankets for him.

Your lips, the first time he’d tasted heaven.

Your soft skin under his fingertips as he first learned how to please you.

How you tasted.

The sounds you made.

Don’t stop there!

The way you’d looked up at him with your lips around him.

Waking up beside you.

Riding up to Nico and Nero still pressed against you intimately.

Nero’s brotherly warning.

Your tender care after his hip injury.

Your voice reading him his favorite poem.

Your foot traversing his thighs as he admitted he was yours.

Your voice saying you were his in return.

HURRY, IT’S NOW OR NEVER!

The bliss of being inside you.

The moment he knew he loved you.

Saying it out loud.

You saying it back.

The sadness in your eyes when he told you his fate.

Your refusal to accept it.

Your stubborn search for a way out, and your theory he prays will work at this very moment.

Playing truth or dare, you helping him bond with Nero and Nico.

Nero and Nico agreeing to help him after hearing the truth.

Nero, calling him your boyfriend.

You, calling him your partner.

A final set of memories flashes through his mind, Griffon’s desperate last hope mixing with his own.

You calling him grade-A beef.

Joining his body with yours atop that brown vehicle.

You, pulling him to safety while Griffon was absent.

Nero, setting him, you and Dante straight after a battle.

You, punching Dante for his flirtations.

Reconciling with Dante.

Finding out that Nero is his son.

How you’d treated his wounds while he battled for his three friends.

You quoting William Blake to him, the perfect response to his idiocy.

The gently urging voice suddenly sounds far less appealing, his resistance returning in a flash of fire in his belly.

NO!

MY SOUL IS MINE! YOU CANNOT HAVE IT! I AM NOT VERGIL! I…! AM…! V!!!

#fanfic #v x reader #dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #dmcv #dmc nero #dmc dante #SBHS #my writing #vitale #reader insert #devil may cry

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