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@corky-the-gluttony-demon
DMC: An Absurd Comedy Masterpost
Haunted by Dreams Arc
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
An Absurd Collection
Sparring Match - Corky (OC) and Felix (OC) - platonic
Flea Market - Corky (OC) and Nico - platonic
Devil-Hunting Games part 1
Devil-Hunting Games part 2
Wrath Followers Arc
Coming Soon
The King's Game Mini-Collection
Round 1
Round 2
Miscellaneous
Haunted by Dreams Chapter 0
Headcanons Part 1
Headcanons Part 2
DMC: An Absurd Comedy – “Hear me Out"
AN: I was really inspired by those "Hear me Out" cakes. While this isn't a cake, I just felt like this would be a conversation Nico and Corky would have.
Characters: Corky (OC), Nico, Nero (briefly towards the end)
I am sprawled across the couch at the shop. Yes, the couch is questionably sticky, smells faintly of—what, like motor oil mixed with Cheetos dust? Nico’s got her legs kicked up on the desk, chewing a toothpick like it owes her money.
It’s 3 a.m.
"Alright, alright," Nico drawls, squinting her eyes. "Hear me out, Corky. Goliath.”
I’m staring at Nico like she just told me she’d shack up with a mountain. Which, in a way, I guess she just did. I glance over at the picture she’s pulled up on her phone, and yep—there he is. Tall, red, and ripped in that menacing demon way, like his arms could grind boulders for breakfast.
"I have questions," I say, eyebrow raised so high it might just detach and float away in pure judgment. I can’t tell if she’s serious or if Nico’s just yanking my chain at this point.
Nico, totally unfazed, leans forward and taps on the screen, zooming in with a devious little grin. “You see his stomach.”
“That was the first thing I noticed. His gut has teeth. …that’s sick. And he’s like slobbering magma, Nico, this is the first one! Why do you always start off so fuckin’ extreme!”
Nico gazes at the photo on her phone with a mischievous grin, “You really need forplay before we dive into hypothetical scenarios? What that mouth do, though?”
“Girl! Clearly, it chews up cars and spits out fireballs. Okay, my turn.”
I pull up the photo I took the other day. Courtesy of V, though he seemed unaware of my true intentions. I show Nico the picture.
Her jaw dropped. “Is that Nightmare?”
I nod.
“I’m telling V.” Nico takes the phone from me and continues to assess. She shakes her head and I can’t help but laugh. “What did it for you? Is it when V fuckin’ snaps his fingers making his hair go white and this big-ass golem just PLOPS into the battlefield?”
Nico then bursts into laughter as if she just thought about something. “I cannot wait for the day V has you ride Nightmare, just to see your dumb face light up like a kid on Christmas. I can’t with you. But…” She zooms in on the photo. “I get it though. Alright, I can get behind this.”
Nico hands me back my phone and pulls out another photo, “I’m embarrassed of this one. It’s basic.”
“Didn’t think you can get embarrassed,” I admit.
Nico sighs, holding the phone to her chest. “You ready, hon? It’s… Ryu.”
“Oh.” That was surprising. “That… is pretty basic. I mean, he’s handsome. How is that a hear me out?”
“But like… when he was evil back in Vie de Marli,” she holds up the photo of Evil Ryu from our mission last year.
And there he is, Evil Ryu, eyes glowing like a bonfire in a blizzard, face twisted in this animalistic snarl, with purple and red energy practically bleeding off him. The dude looks like he could split a mountain in half just by glaring at it hard enough.
I suck in a breath. “Alright… I see it.” And, god, I do. There’s something electric about that unhinged energy. “But Nico… he’s literally evil in that form. You know he tried to kill us, right?”
She gives me this look, like I’ve just missed the entire point. “That’s the appeal, Cork. He’s usually this quiet, stoic type, right? All ‘meditate to find peace’ and shit. But Evil Ryu? That’s the raw, unfiltered version. That’s him snappin’. ‘I must tame this darkness inside-‘ No, sir, you need to channel that darkness inside someone else.”
“O-NICO!” I am laid out laughing.
I’m holding my phone like it’s a winning hand in poker, barely able to keep a straight face as I pull up the photo. Nico’s leaning in, curious, her eyes narrowing at me like she knows I’m up to something.
“Alright,” I say, bracing myself, “hear me out.” I turn the screen toward her. It’s him, that old guy from Samba Vista—the head of that shady family who ran the brothel. The guy had wrinkles on his wrinkles, with eyes like murky ponds and a smile that could haunt a crypt. Honestly, he looked like he’d crawled out from under a rock just to offer us a drink.
Nico’s reaction is instant. Her jaw drops, and she’s making this strangled sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh. “You mean that OLD GUY?” She practically shrieks, doubling over, clutching her stomach. “Girl, you got… no. No way. Explain.”
“Oh, I’ll explain.” I’m trying to keep it together, but seeing her doubled over, just losing it, has me giggling too, holding back tears. “Think about it, Nico. The man’s got experience. Been around the block, what—fifty times? Sixty?”
“Seventy, more like,” she cackles, wiping her eyes. “Oh god, Corky, what the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Nico, listen,” I say, raising my hands defensively, “he’s probably got moves we’ve never even heard of.”
Nico snorts so hard she nearly spits. “Yeah, ancient moves. Popping his hip out to get the job done?” She is already pulling up her next one.
“Oh, you’re not ready for this one, Corkscrew.” Nico’s already halfway gone, her shoulders shaking with this gleeful, snorting giggle that’s almost demonic. The kind of laugh that says she’s holding back a bomb. She holds up her phone, her grin stretching wider and wider as she barely chokes out, “Your mom.”
I feel my soul physically exit my body.
“Fuck you,” I say, jaw somewhere near my knees.
“How she get her tits to sit all pretty like that?”
“Gross! You sound just as bad as Felix, knock it off!” I almost shove her, minding my superhuman strength as Nico allows herself to gently fall, still giggling like a hyena.
“I don’t even think she got on any panties under here. So, quick question, is her name really Gloria? Or is that just who everyone knows her as.”
“It was her ruse from when she infiltrated the Order of Sword in Fortuna, but somehow, she did some kind of spell where we forgot her real name. I don’t even know how it worked. Me, Dante, Trish, cannot remember what she was called before that.”
“That’s so freaky. Wish I knew her real name so I can scream it while-OW! Okay, I’m done!”
I flash Nico a wicked grin, leaning in close, my phone ready like the punchline to some twisted joke. “Alright, hear me out,” I say, barely holding back a laugh. “Remember those Envy demons we fought in Fortuna last month?”
Her smile drops, replaced by pure bewilderment as she stares at the image on my phone. The Envy demons, hunched over like vultures with elongated limbs, twisted torsos, and those jagged, oversized scythes for arms. Their skin all cracked and peeling, like they were dipped in pure spite and let out to dry. And the faces—if you could even call them that—just black pits for eyes and stretched mouths like a scream frozen mid-howl.
Nico recoils, staring at me with a look that’s somewhere between horror and pure, unfiltered disbelief. “Corky,” she hisses, sounding like she’s just witnessed a crime.
I shrug, putting on my best nonchalant face. “They’re literally fueled by envy—never satisfied, always wanting more. Talk about dedication.”
Nico’s face twists up like she’s tasted something sour. “Corky, that’s the most messed up shit I’ve ever heard, and I just talked about your mom.” She gestures at the phone like the picture might actually bite her.
The grin slips off my face as a soft creak of a door down the hall, footsteps padding our way. Nico and I both go quiet, like two kids caught sneaking cookies at midnight. Her laughter dies, and I’m clutching the phone with the Envy demons still on the screen, like some damning piece of evidence.
Nero stands there, half-awake, hair tousled and sticking up in all directions, looking like he just lost a fight with his pillow.
“You’re… still here?” His voice is all sleepy and gravelly, and there’s something about it that makes my stomach do a weird flip.
That’s… annoying.
“Uh… yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck, giving him this awkward half-smile. “Guess I’m just… gonna crash with Nico tonight.” I don’t know why I’m explaining myself like I owe him some kind of curfew, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel like I got caught doing something scandalous.
He raises an eyebrow, glancing between us, taking in Nico’s flushed, tear-streaked face and the phone still clutched in my hand. “Whatever.” He looks like he wants to ask what the hell we’re doing, but maybe he knows better than to get involved. Smart man.
As he disappears into the bathroom, Nico and I exchanges glances. “We should probably continue this in your room.”
“Yeah,” Nico says, though she was giving me a strange look. “Though I have a feeling that list might have some additions to it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, but she gets up already heading for the stairs.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy – “The King’s Game” - Round 2/10
Last Round: After Corky gets the feisty Abigail to down some hot sauce, she better watch out and make sure she doesn't retaliate.
Character: Nero Sparda, Nico Goldstein, V, Griffon, Corky Beelze (OC), Felix Ryder (OC), Abigail Curtis (OC), Marcus Morrison (OC)
Does contain some NSFW though I think it is relatively tame and harmless.
Round 2...
Nico slaps her hand down on the table, eyes shining with gleeful authority. “Alright, listen up! I’m the King! And as King I declare that Player six must give a lap dance… to Player seven.”
Oh.
Abigail leans back with a smirk that could shatter glass. “I am liking my odds,” she purrs, raising her card high a seven staring back at us. She tosses it down with a flourish, her eyes sharp and utterly delighted, clearly savoring the prospect.
Then I hear Griffon laughing (or rather squawking) a little too loudly. Felix grabs the card from V, holding it up for all to see. “Ladies and gentlemen, Player Six, our reluctant dancer!”
Nico’s wheezing, practically doubled over, while Nero’s laughing so hard I had never heard before in my life. I’m no better, honestly; my stomach hurts, tears prickling at my eyes as I gasp for air.
V looks up, and there’s that tight-lipped, deeply suffering expression he gets sometimes, like he’s got a thousand thoughts and all of them are severely judging us.
Abigail, of course, looks like she’s hit the jackpot. She straightens in her seat, giving V a look that’s half smug, half something darker, an almost predatory gleam in her eyes. “Well,” she says, voice low and just this side of flirtatious, “whenever you’re ready, darling.”
V inhales like he’s mentally preparing himself for some epic showdown rather than… well, this. But to his credit, he stands up slowly, his posture still managing to look dignified, even as Felix whistles and Nico claps in encouragement.
“Abby, you need some singles I got you!” Felix calls.
V lets out another low, almost inaudible sigh before stepping forward toward Abigail, who’s sitting with a self-satisfied little smile and one raised eyebrow.
I hurry to the jukebox, “Hold up, Corky is about to set y’all on a soundtrack!” I hear Marcus tell the others.
I know just the song too.
The first few beats of “Earned it” begins to play and Nico our King applauds me.
V stiffens at first but then a faint smirk tugs at his lips—maybe at the absurdity of it all, or maybe just at the hopelessness of escape—he leans into it just a bit. He steps closer, one arm reaching around the back of the chair, hovering just near enough to Abigail’s shoulder that she shivers slightly, her eyes never leaving his.
Abigail’s grin falters for half a second. She lets out a soft hum, and I can tell she’s absolutely loving every second of this. Felix, practically losing it, chants, “Come on, V! Get into it!”
V, lips quirked in the faintest smirk, leans down close enough that Abigail’s breath catches, his movements are clumsy and stiff.
It’s so awkward!
I bury my face into Nico’s shoulder, trying not to watch but failing miserably. “I can’t… I can’t look, but I can’t not look!”
Nico’s barely holding it together herself, eyes wide and grinning like a maniac as she elbows me, making little kissy noises and cat-calling, totally immune to the secondhand embarrassment overtaking me. “Woohoo, go, V! Give her the full Sparda treatment!”
Felix is howling, whistling through his fingers like it’s a goddamn concert. “That’s it, Panic! At the Disco! Show her what feeling looks like!”
Meanwhile, Marcus has one hand over his mouth and the other holding up his phone, clearly recording every second of this disaster. “For… for documentation purposes!” he says, voice shaking with laughter.
Nero, on the other hand, looks just baffled by the fact that V of all people is committing to the role with more poise than any of us have ever seen.
Then V does the unthinkable: he angles himself just a little closer, shifting his weight in a way that makes his thigh brush against Abigail’s knee, his face lowering, lips close enough that he could easily lean in just a fraction more and brush them against her skin. He doesn’t, though; instead, he lingers there.
V slowly straightens, letting the spell break, and with a smooth movement, he steps back, finally giving Abigail the space to breathe. She lets out a breath she’d clearly been holding, eyes still trained on him with a glint of something that feels almost… reluctant to let him go.
Felix snaps at me. “Corky, you weren’t even watching!”
“I couldn’t!”
“It’s alright, I got it on camera, you can watch it later,” Marcus casually tells me earning a snort from Nero.
Abigail’s face is flushed, but she smirks, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow at V. “Thank you ‘King Nico’.”
“I wanna see one y’all top that!”
As we take another shot, I can feel the alcohol creeping in, making the edges of everything just a little softer, the laughter a little louder, the glances a little sharper. Nero, slouched over the table, is glaring at the bottle as if it just insulted his mother. He’s barely upright, his eyes hazy, the weight of his drunken dignity barely holding together. Felix, that unshakeable bastard, somehow stays chill, nursing his drink like he’s got all the time in the world, just observing the mess unfolding around him with that wolfish smirk. Nico, on the other hand, is deep in her element, firing off rounds and slapping her knee, every giggle punctuated by another shot. And V? He’s sitting back with that faint, glazed look, a little tipsy smile tugging at his lips as he watches everything unfold with that brand of tipsy gravitas only he can pull off.
Abigail, though… So much for her so-called tolerance; she’s gone full giggle machine, practically dissolving into laughter at every little thing. She’s got this high, bubbly laugh that she tries to stifle with the back of her hand, but the more she tries to hold it in, the more it just bursts out, and I’m pretty sure she’s never been more of a liability than she is right now. Her eyes keep darting between Felix, Nero, and V in that way that tells me she’s maybe a little too into the disaster of a party surrounding her.
And me? I feel great, definitely not tipsy, just a little warmed up, maybe. I lean back in my chair, letting the energy buzz around me, “Alright, who’s ready for round three?”
Felix turns to me with a smirk, holding up his hand. “Corky, you’re yelling.”
I blink. “Oh… uh, I don’t think I am?” My voice comes out louder than intended, and everyone around the table breaks into laughter again, sending that infectious, woozy warmth through the room. Alright, maybe just a little tipsy.
Cards get shuffled and spread out once more, and everyone reaches for one with a mix of glee and trepidation. I pull my card, hoping the King card’s mine this time, and sadly, I’m just a measly two. The others start flipping their cards, and Nico’s face lights up like she just hit the jackpot.
“Guess what, you degenerates?” Nico declares, brandishing her card with that smirk. “King Nicoletta Goldstein reigns again.”
Felix whistles, grinning. “Well, go on, King. How are you gonna top that last order?”
Nico eyes us like a wolf surveying her prey, tapping her chin with a dramatic flourish. “I’m feeling inspired tonight,” she says, her grin widening as she zeroes in on something truly evil. “I, King Nicoletta Goldstein, declare that Player Four give us their best ‘O’ face!”
The reaction is immediate, the shockwave ripping through the room like an explosion. Felix slams a hand on the table, shouting, “Shut the fuck up!” He’s laughing, tears in his eyes, and for a second, I think it might be him… until I see Nero’s face go from mild drunken confusion to full-blown horror as he throws down his card.
“Fuck!” Sure enough, there it is, the unmistakable four staring back at us, damning Nero to one of the most excruciating fates imaginable.
The room loses it. I mean, there’s pandemonium. Nico’s pointing at him, practically falling out of her chair, her laughter so loud I swear the walls are rattling. Abigail is screeching, while Felix and Marcus, both absolutely hammered, are literally running laps around the shop. Marcus stumbles, grabbing onto the couch for support but still howling, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Griffon? Griffon’s gone. He’s not even drinking but the damn bird is on the floor, his wings twitching like he’s been paralyzed by the absurdity of it all. He’s wheezing between caws, sputtering out words in broken fits of laughter. “I… am weak!”
Even V just sits there, mouth slightly open in what can only be described as stunned disbelief. I have never, in the almost year that I’ve known him, seen V look so utterly blindsided.
I drop to the floor next to Griffon, clutching my stomach, my own voice joining the cacophony of hysterics.
This… this is gonna be the last time we play this game.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy – “The King’s Game” - Round 1/10
AN: So, I know it’s been a while since I updated (still in the final drafts of the Wrath Followers arc, but as I said in a previous post this is very self-indulgent, and I don’t intend for people to read it but if I feel brave and satisfied enough, I’ll post. This is one of those.)
It takes place about 4-6 arcs down (it’s been a year since the team first started working together) and I just got this idea after watching my friend replay Persona. (I forget which one it is but it’s the one with “The King’s Game”.)
Some forewarning, a couple of my OCs Felix and Abigail (which you meet in Wrath Followers) are toxic and are intended to be for the sake of conflict.
This is also written in my OC Corky’s pov. I didn’t initially start off the series like that (which is why it takes me longer because I might rewrite Arc 2 or maybe actually post Arc 1 which I feel is just a retelling of DMC reboot with the characters switched out) because I realize I am having more fun writing from her POV. It just feels more immersive and easier.
Does contain some NSFW though I think it is relatively tame and harmless.
October 25th, 2015 - 7:21 PM
Devil May Cry shop – Red Grave City
Alright, it’s Closing Time—time to wind down, relax, enjoy that thick, quiet space in the air that hums like a contented cat.
I see Nico reach behind the broken-up couch at the shop, snatching up some bottle from Dante’s hidden trove. “Well, well, look what we have here,” she says, all sly, waving the thing around. “Bet Dante thought he’d keep this for himself. Guess what, suckers? We’re drinkin’ tonight.”
Nero groans softly, “Shouldn’t you save that for a special occasion?” Nico rolls her eyes and slams the bottle down on the table with all the care of a jackhammer. “Oh, come on, Sparda. Wouldn’t kill ya to loosen up a little. Or are ya scared to see how you handle your liquor?”
“You know I don’t drink, Nico.”
Marcus, Morrison’s kid (I say that as if he’s not the same age as me, Nero, and Abbs) practically bouncing in his seat. “But I do! I’m in!”
“C’mon, Nero. You don’t wanna be the only one not joining the party, right?” Abigail’s voice is a sickly kind of sweet, like a rotten peach covered in sugar.
Felix slaps a hand on Nero’s shoulder, “Guess your Sparda blood’s not all it’s cracked up to be, huh?”
Oh boy. Here comes that look—Nero’s “I am ten seconds away from strangling you” glare.
And then, as if Felix’s smug face wasn’t grating enough, Abigail leans in, dangling the glass in front of him like it’s a ticket to some exclusive club. “Don’t be such a bore, Nero. It’s just a drink.”
I don’t know when I became so protective of Nero suddenly. Not that he needs it. Maybe it was what happened last week in the jungle. Out of everyone he was the only one who really stood by me against my old man. And even when he found out about Beelzebub being my grandfather, he didn’t judge or push me.
“Hey, Nero,” I say, trying to break through the tension before he snaps. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. I mean, it’s not like they’re going to keel over if you say no.”
“Corky!” Felix suddenly snaps at me. “What are you doing?”
“What? Felix, you know I don’t like to drink either,” I say, throwing my hands up defensively.
Abigail scoffs, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like we’re asking him to sell his soul. Just to loosen up for once. It wouldn’t kill you either, Corky. A little… lubrication.”
V, quietly observing everything, has somehow drifted closer to the group, and suddenly, all eyes land on him.
“Hey, now there’s a guy who likes to party,” Felix says, nodding at V with a smirk. “Mr. Edgar Allen Poe over here, I didn’t know you drank!”
Nico pauses in her glass hunt behind the bar, grinning as she pops up, her head cocked with surprise.
Griffon fluffs his feathers, smirking down at her. “Please, V here drinks like a classy bird. Ain’t that right, buddy? None of this cheap bar crap; he’s strictly a cabernet guy.”
V gives a polite little nod, as if Griffon’s somehow dead-on. “Even in the roughest spirits, there’s a taste of the earth, a touch of eternity…if one cares to find it.”
Everyone goes silent for a beat. Are we ever going to get used to V’s random musings?
Abigail lets out a pointed laugh, “Come on, Boy Scout,” she goads Nero, “Even V seems to have more balls than you.”
Ouch. That was so uncalled for. Usually, Nero would ignore Abigail or shut her down, but this time it seems to get to him. His jaw tightens as he stares at the bottle that Nico finally opens after some time struggling quietly with it. “Fine. Give me a glass.”
Nico’s face lights up with a grin like she’s just won the lottery. “There we go! The hero steps up! Marcus fetch me a couple more glasses. Corky?” She glances up at me.
I’m not letting that one go unchecked, though. “Hey, Nero,” I say, low enough that only he can hear. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, would you just shut up, Corky?” Abigail’s tone is dripping with that practiced irritation, like she’s dealing with a particularly annoying bug. She seems to reserve that especially for me. Don’t know what I ever did to piss her off.
For the first time I stay silent. Nero’s a grown man, Corky. Why are you all of a sudden so concerned about this?
Nico lines up the shots, counting each one as she fills them. “Seven glasses, one for each of our poor, unfortunate souls,” she says with a smirk, doling them out. V’s shot, though, is… Well, calling it “baby-sized” would be generous. It’s maybe half a sip at most.
Griffon leans over, craning his neck at V’s glass. “Oh, come on, Nico! You trying to insult my guy? He needs a real drink, not this toddler stuff!”
Nico snorts and fills his glass to match the rest. “Alright, alright, don’t get your feathers in a tizzy, I didn’t realize.
She lifts her own glass, glancing at each of us, her smirk broadening. “Alright, how’s Rogerio say it? Salud!”
And there’s a chorus of glasses clinking, like we’re all on the same boat for one ridiculous, fleeting moment. Everyone downs their shots in one swift motion, no hesitation. Well, mostly.
The whiskey’s got that gasoline burn, a throat-searing, gut-punching heat that hits hard and fast. I swallow mine and feel like my insides just did a somersault, all heat and haze rolling around in my stomach. I’ve eaten worse.
Marcus chokes on his, coughing so hard he goes red, wide-eyed, clutching his chest like it’s gonna explode. A bit dramatic.
Abigail just laughs, fixing her fringe. “Oh, rookie move, Morrison. Gotta learn to savor it.”
Nero looks stunned, blinking as if he’s just had a vision of his impending death. He lets out a wheeze, face twisted in mild horror.
“How do people actually… enjoy this?”
Felix claps him on the back, grin wide and wicked. “That’s the spirit, Nero. See, wasn’t so bad, right?”
Meanwhile, V’s reaction is… subdued, but I can tell he’s feeling it by the faint twitch in his brow and the way he almost—almost—winces. Abigail’s eyes gleam, that dangerous little smirk curling up like she’s just gotten an idea too good to ignore. “You know what we need?”
She leans in, eyes narrowed, voice low and dripping with amusement.
“A drinking game.”
“I thought we were gonna play cards?” Nero says with that grumpy deadpan.
“Strip poker?” Abigail asks, innocently, batting her lashes at him.
“No!”
Abigail shrugs, swirling her glass, mischief glinting in her eyes. “You are so boring. You guys always play cards.”
Marcus pipes up, “…Have any of you heard of ‘The King’s Game’?” Now that gets my attention.
“Oh, I know that one,” I say, grinning as the memories creep up. “I haven’t played that since I was… well, a dumbass teenager with questionable friends and too much spare time."
Felix, leaning forward now, has the same mischievous glint. “Me too,” he says, smirk creeping up his face like he’s suddenly a teenager again. “Things got… interesting.”
Nico, ever the chaos-seeker, perks up, leaning closer. “Wait, wait, what’s that?” She looks at Marcus like he’s just revealed the secret to life itself.
Marcus, now relishing his role as the night’s game-master, clears his throat, “Alright, here’s how it works. We get a bunch of sticks or scraps of paper, whatever works. One person’s the ‘King,’ and everyone has to follow their orders for the round, no matter what.”
Nero’s already squinting suspiciously. “And what exactly does the ‘King’ make people do?”
“Anything. Could be simple, could be… risky.”
“Anything?” Abigail asks, clearly already coming up with ideas.
Nico cackles, already on board, waving her drink. “Well, hell! Why didn’t we think of this sooner? Let’s do it! We’ll find out who can actually handle the heat around here.”
Nero groans, shaking his head but looking reluctantly intrigued. “I don’t know… I feel like this is going to end badly.”
“We can go around, see how it goes. If nobody wants to keep playing, they can duck out,” I say speaking to everyone generally.
“Thank you, Mama. Do you want us to come up with a safe word, too?” Abigail scoffs.
Marcus rubs his hands together. “Alright, first thing we need are sticks or slips or something.”
Felix scoffs, pulling a deck of cards from a drawer with a flick of his wrist. “Sticks? We’ve got cards. Here.” He fans them out, selecting a king and grabbing numbers two through seven, tossing them in a small pile on the table. “We shuffle ‘em, splay ‘em, and everyone picks one. Done and done.”
“But wait,” I say, crossing my arms, “aren’t we supposed to pull them one at a time? You know, to make it suspenseful?”
“Oh, please, Corky. We don’t need suspense; we need results.” Abigail says, throwing the cards down in a messy spread on the table, face down.
Marcus looks over the group with a patient, if slightly exasperated, smile. “Actually, quick rule check: you can’t see each other’s cards. When the King gives an order, they don’t do it by name, they do it by number. Makes it more interesting ‘cause you don’t know who you’re daring.”
“Even better,” Nico says, grabbing her drink, “Another round?”
There’s a ripple of mixed reactions—a groan from Nero, an eager “hell yes” from Felix, and a sort of dignified nod from V, who looks ready to endure whatever chaos comes his way with minimal protest.
Nero raises his glass in reluctant solidarity. “Cheers, I guess.”
“Attaboy!” Nico crows, nudging him with her elbow before downing her drink in one go, “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
Felix grabs the cards, shuffling them with an expert flick of his wrist, that smirk widening. “Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets. Who’s about to embarrass themselves first?”
Griffon cackles from his perch on V’s shoulder. “My money’s on Sparda boy over there. Look at him—guy’s already sweating bullets, and we haven’t even started!”
Nero shoots Griffon a glare that could cut glass. “Fuck off, birdbrain,” Nero mutters, setting his glass down with a decisive thud. “Let’s get this over with.”
We all reach forward, picking a card from the splayed mess on the table, and I hold mine close. I flip it over in my hand: "I'm the King!" I declare, holding up the card for all to see.
Nico lets out a low whistle, grinning at me with that look of “don’t go easy on us now.” Felix raises a brow, smirking. “Alright, King Corky of Beelze, what’s your first royal decree?”
Hm… Something fun to ease everyone in, sure—but we’re here to make people sweat a little, right? And just then, the idea hits me. “I, King Corky of Beelze, command… Number six to eat five spoonfuls of hot sauce.”
Everyone glances around, waiting to see who’s been hit with the fiery gauntlet. Then, slowly, with a look that could kill, Abigail lifts her card, revealing the dreaded number six.
“Hot sauce? Really?”
I shrug, trying to keep a straight face but utterly failing. “You know the rules, Abigail. King’s orders.”
She rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse. “I was expecting something embarrassing, not something that’s gonna burn a hole through my insides,” she gripes, but the challenge flickers in her eyes. She’s too proud to back down, that’s for sure.
Nico’s already up, rummaging around for a bottle, and when she finds it, she lets out a little cheer. “Found it! Dante’s Secret Stash.” She places the bottle in front of Abigail with a grin. “Shoulda known he’d have something lethal lying around.”
Abigail grabs the bottle with a resigned sigh, examining the label like she’s sizing up an opponent in the ring. “Oh there is a cute little picture of a skull and flames on the label,” she mutters, unscrewing the cap. “How lovely.”
“Pretty on brand for you, babe!” Felix says with a wicked grin. She shoots him a look of pure disdain before carefully pouring a spoonful, the dark red liquid shimmering ominously. Without another word, she raises the spoon and downs it. For a second, there’s nothing—just her chewing in exaggerated calm.
Then her eyes widen, and I swear she goes three shades paler before turning a furious red. She chokes slightly, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit,” she croaks, eyes watering as she looks at the bottle like it’s personally offended her ancestors.
Felix howls with laughter, practically banging his fist on the table. “Thought you could handle a little heat, Abby?”
Abigail doesn’t answer, just slams down another spoonful, probably out of pure spite. Her hand shakes a little as she brings it to her mouth, her jaw clenched like she’s about to battle her way through Hell and back.
“Oh, Abby,” I say, my voice all mock sympathy. “Three more to go. I’m surprised you can’t handle the heat, since pyro magic is your specialty and all.”
She glares at me, eyes narrowed, face shiny with sweat. “Fuck you, you fat-ha! Ha!” But she reaches for the spoon again despite the weird breathing noise she is making. Spoon three goes down with a wince, her lips trembling as she tries to maintain even a scrap of dignity.
Nero is biting back a smile. “You’re a trooper, Abigail.”
She swallows hard, barely managing to rasp out, “Glad you are enjoying this, fucker.”
By the fourth spoonful, her face has gone from red to purple, and I’m pretty sure I see actual steam rising off her head. Nico hands her a napkin, looking a mix of impressed and horrified. “Blink twice if you need us to call you an ambulance, sugar.”
Abigail just grabs the napkin and dabs her face, glaring at all of us with watery eyes as she forces down the last spoonful. “There,” she croaks, setting the spoon down with an audible clink. “Satisfied?”
“Immensely,” I say with a grin.
She flips me off, her hands shaking slightly as she reaches for her glass, knocking it back in one go. “Ah! Alcohol was a bad idea!”
“I could have told you that, genius. Let me get you some water,” Nero says, already headed for the kitchen.
"Whose ready for round 2?" Nico asks.
The game continues.
Corky’s Scare Pranks
AN: I decided to change it up and write from my OC’s pov, and I am having a lot of fun with it.
Also, I know Devil May Cry doesn’t give years, but for the sake of the timeline in my fanfiction, Devil May Cry 5 takes place 2014. And while I am sharing bits and pieces of my Fanfiction on here (including the entirety of the Sloth arc and working on revisions and edits for the Wrath arc when I have time) I only upload what I feel comfortable uploading. So I might give some context depending on when the scenes take place if I feel it is necessary.
October 9th, 2014
Devil May Cry shop - Red Grave City
6:42am
Nico is knocked out next to me still. Good. Shoulder’s healing up nice, but the poor gal still needs rest so I’ll let her sleep in.
I slide out of bed, careful not to make a sound. My feet land on the floor with a soft thud. I go downstairs and see the lights are still out. It’s too early to open, but usually Nero is up around this time drinking his coffee and eating breakfast. Maybe he went to train a little?
Felix is passed out on that crusty couch. Soon we’ll find our own place here in Red Grave but for now we are making do. Although I like my little slumber parties with Nico. No not those kinds you perverts. I told Felix the same thing. The floor creaks under me as I make my way downstairs, the wood groaning like it knows I'm up to no good. Felix is sprawled out like roadkill, one arm hanging off the couch, head turned at that weird angle which I know he's going to regret.
So I crouch down. Real low. Like a predator, stalking its prey. I can hear the faint buzzing of a broken neon sign outside the window, the tick-tick-tick of the wall clock—God, someone needs to shut that thing up—and the steady breathing of Felix.
"Felix," I whisper, but not like whisper whisper, more like a hiss that’s dripping with menace, like one of those demons that crawl outta the walls in Limbo. "Feeeeelix."
Nothing. Guy doesn’t even flinch.
I get real close, like nose-to-nose close. I can smell the whiskey he got drunk on, along with…something sour. My gluttony-demon senses identified the source as a human female.
Hahaha.
"Felix!" This time, I scream like a banshee and I swear the windows shake. Felix jerks awake so fast he almost punches me in the face.
"Fuck!" He’s already halfway off the couch, fists raised, eyes wide like he’s ready to throw down with whatever demon just crawled outta the floorboards. His chest is heaving, that fight-or-flight instinct kicking in, and I can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he processes that it’s just me—again.
I’m laughing my ass off by this point, rolling on the floor, clutching my sides.
"Goddammit, Corky!" Felix snarls, rubbing his eyes like he’s trying to wipe the sleep—and probably the murderous thoughts—out of his head. "You can’t keep doing this!"
Felix slumps back into the couch, running a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. Something about how he thought we left this shit behind in Limbo.
January 21st, 2015
Outside Grease Pit Royale, Red Grave City – 6:03pm I was just picking up some dinner from Grease Pit’s when I catch sight of Nico's precious little Devil May Cry van parked some random supply shop.
Nico's running errands. Again. Probably picking up God knows what—spare parts, screws, maybe some gunpowder to mix into her morning coffee. The stuff she gets excited about, y’know? But she doesn’t know I’m here. Ohhh, she doesn’t know.
Perfect.
Bag of burgers in hand, I waltz over and sneak up to the van, cracking the door open quietly, and sliding into the back seat. No creaks, no nothing. Nico’s off in that store and she’s gone long enough for me to get comfortable.
I’m sitting there in the back, burgers spread across my lap.
A few minutes pass. I bite into one of the burgers because I’m hungry, and it’s dinner time. The grease dribbles down my chin, and I wipe it with the back of my hand.
And then, there it is. The soft shuffle of boots outside. The jingle of keys. The van door swings open, and Nico steps in, balancing some weird metal contraption.
Just as she’s halfway in, I pounce, leaping from the shadows. “Surprise, bitch!” I scream, face practically inches from hers.
Nico, though? Nico doesn’t flinch. Not even a little. She just blinks at me, raises one eyebrow.
“How come I didn’t scare you?” My words tumble out, fast and loose, a little whiny if I’m being honest.
She settles into the driver’s seat, lighting up a cigarette.
“What, you think you’re some kinda unflinchable badass now?” I ask.
She doesn’t even bother turning fully to face me. Just that over-the-shoulder look again, like she’s humoring me. “You mad buttercup?”
“A little, yeah,” I admit.
Nico blows a cloud of smoke and shoots me a cheeky grin, “After I’m done with my smoke, I’ll give you a ride back to your place.”
March 8th, 2015
Outside Felix’s Apartment, Red Grave City
7:21am I’m crouched down outside Felix’s apartment. I told Nero that I was going to make sure he comes so we can head on out to Vie de Marli. I’ve been camped out here in the cold for, I don’t know, ten whole minutes, waiting for him to open that damn door.
I can hear him inside, shuffling around like he’s got nowhere to be. Dude’s slow. Probably hungover… again.
I hear the door click, the hinges creak like the thing hasn’t been oiled in years, and I know this is it.
The door opens just a crack, and I launch myself forward like a wild animal—arms out, mouth wide, and I let out the loudest, most demonic scream I can muster. “RAHHHH!” I’m in his face in half a second, and for a brief, glorious moment, I see it—actual surprise in Felix’s eyes. I did it. I got him. The guy who’s seen hell and worse, finally, finally rattled.
But then, of course, because it’s Felix, the bastard just blinks, his whole body barely jerking back, like he’s dealing with a mildly annoying fly instead of me. He’s standing there, door halfway open, one hand on the frame, and his expression goes from that tiny flash of shock to pure, unadulterated irritation.
"You really need to find a new hobby," he deadpans.
July 5th, 2015
Outside the Devil May Cry shop, Red Grave City
8:12pm
I feel I spend more time crouched behind doors to scare my friends then to hide from demon threats. But I’m committed—no, dedicated. I hear Marcus shuffling around inside, probably gathering his bag of nerd gear and whatever illegal software he’s been messing with all day.
I can hear Nero and Nico bickering inside, but I am focused on Marcus’s footsteps, that familiar clumsy shuffle he’s got going.
The door creaks open just a crack, and I hear Marcus muttering something under his breath.
And then, just as the door swings fully open—BAM—I leap out like a goddamn wildcat. Arms up, mouth wide, screeching like a banshee straight outta the depths of hell. “BOO, BITCH!”
Marcus’s face goes pale immediately, and I swear to god his soul leaves his body for a split second. He yelps like a kicked puppy, stumbling backward, legs flailing in the air like he just slipped on a banana peel. For a split second, I wonder if I actually killed him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, mouth hanging open like he’s trying to process whether he’s dead or if this is some kinda fever dream.
“C-Corky! Shit! You almost made me piss myself!” Marcus practically screams, clutching his chest like he’s having a heart attack.
I’m doubled over, laughing so hard I might actually fall down and roll into the street. My sides hurt, but I can’t stop—it’s just that good.
His face is beet red now, either from embarrassment or the fact that he genuinely thought he was about to die. The guy’s wiping at his forehead, like he’s trying to erase the trauma from his mind. “Corky, that was not cool!” he whines.
“That was hilarious!” I manage between breaths, gasping for air.
Marcus glares at me—or tries to, anyway—but he’s too flustered to pull it off. He’s more like a wet puppy at this point, all shaken and twitchy. He runs a hand through his dreads, trying to calm his nerves.
July 19th, 2015
Njaa Village, Kijuju Jungles
1:22pm
It’s so damn humid out here, the air thick like molasses, making my skin sticky with that gross mix of sweat and jungle funk. Welcome to the Kijuju jungle—where every step feels like you’re walking through hot soup and everything wants to bite, sting, or eat you. And here we are, just sitting in this van that wreaks of cigarettes, Nico’s gun oil, grease, and Felix's funky boots. Nico’s out like a light, sleeping hard enough to miss the literal apocalypse.
My eyes dart to Felix, who’s standing by the van, leaning against it like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s already ten steps ahead.
“So, what’s the play?” he asks.
I grin, leaning closer to him like we’re planning a heist. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. You sneak around the other side, knock on the window. Get her to stir just a bit, but not too much, y’know? Then, I’m gonna jump outta the back and scream.”
Felix raises an eyebrow, and for a second, I think he’s about to give me that “seriously, Corky?” look, but instead, he chuckles. “You know she’s gonna shoot you, right? This woman sleeps with a gun under her pillow.”
I wave him off, like that’s a detail that doesn’t matter. “Pfft, she won’t shoot me. Probably. Maybe. It wouldn’t kill me. It would just hurt… a lot.”
Nico’s inside, snoring softly, one hand draped over her stomach, her other arm tucked under her head. Poor girl’s been working her ass off all day, but it was almost go-time.
Felix taps on the window. Just a soft, deliberate tap-tap-tap. Nico stirs, a sleepy grumble slipping from her lips, but she doesn’t wake up fully.
I slam the back door open and scream—loud, shrill, like a banshee on crack. “WAKE UP, SUNSHINE!”
Nico bolts upright so fast I think she might’ve given herself whiplash. Her hand immediately shoots to her hip, where she keeps her gun holstered, but she fumbles with it, blinking blearily, eyes wide, not processing what the hell just happened. For a split second, I think she’s about to actually pull that trigger, and I’m about to have a hole in my chest, but then recognition kicks in. Her face twists into this expression—half disbelief, half murderous intent.
“You goddamn jackass! I swear to Christ, Corky, one of these days, I am gonna shoot your ass, and I ain’t gonna feel bad about it!” Her southern twang is extra thick when she’s pissed, and right now, it’s like molasses, all warm and sticky with that angry charm only Nico can pull off. She’s glaring at me, but I can see the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth—she’s trying not to smile. She won’t admit it, but I can tell.
Felix’s laugh cuts through the humid air. “Told ya she’d pull the gun.”
January 3rd, 2016
Kyrie’s House, Fortuna
Scaring Nero has always been tricky. It’s rare to catch him off guard. But since he has been back in his hometown and still dealing with… whatever is going on between him and Kyrie at this point has him kind of distracted, which makes him the perfect target.
Nico’s beside me, practically vibrating with excitement, that grin plastered across her face like she’s about to watch the best damn show on earth.
I smell Nero’s essence and then hear his footsteps.
Nico nudges me, eyes gleaming. “Here he comes.”
“BOO!”
I launch myself out from the corner, arms flailing, letting out the loudest, most guttural scream I can manage, aiming right at Nero, thinking I’ve got him dead to rights. But instead of Nero, it’s Kyrie. Sweet, gentle Kyrie—who was walking in front of Nero—right in my line of fire.
Her scream is so high-pitched I’m pretty sure it could break glass, and her eyes go wide as dinner plates as she stumbles backward, legs giving out from sheer shock. And—oh no, oh shit—she’s going down.
“Oh god! Kyrie!” I’m in panic mode now, scrambling to catch her before she hits the ground. Too late. She’s on her ass, wide-eyed and gasping, and I’m frozen for a split second because, holy shit, I just scared the hell out of Kyrie.
I drop to my knees, my brain catching up with my body, sliding to her side in an awkward crawl. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” My voice is all frantic, and I’m grabbing at her, trying to make sure she’s okay.
“Corky what the hell!?” Nero yells at me angrily, “Kyrie, are you alright?”
But here’s the thing—she’s laughing. Full-on, belly-laughing, like I didn’t just give her a near heart attack. She’s holding her stomach, face flushed, tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. “I—I’m fine!” she manages between gasps. “I wasn’t… expecting that!”
Nico’s already on the floor, too, doubled over in hysterics, slapping her thigh. “Damn, Corky, you just knocked her flat! That was supposed to be Nero!”
I can’t help but laugh, too, even though I feel like the world’s biggest jerk. I flop down next to Kyrie, still half-hugging her, and bury my face in her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to literally knock you over.” I’m laughing, but I’m also kinda mortified. She smells like lavender and something soft, and I just feel bad.
Nero, of course, is standing there, arms crossed, glaring at us like we’re a bunch of children. “Well it failed,” He shakes his head, but I catch the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he sees Kyrie is more than okay.
Kyrie waves him off, still giggling. “I’m fine! Really! I haven’t laughed this hard in a while.” She looks at me, eyes twinkling, and I swear she’s not mad. If anything, she looks like she enjoyed it, which makes me feel about ten times better.
March 5th, 2016
Felix’s Apartment, Red Grave City
4:31pm
Nero’s sitting on the couch, staring at the floor like it’s got all the answers. I can see the gears turning in his head, the way his jaw’s tight, the furrow in his brow—it’s all there. He’s thinking about everything. Dante and Vergil are back and this leaves Nero trying to figure out where he goes from here.
Which means… this is my shot.
I’ve tried a dozen times to scare him. Failed every time. He’s like a brick wall. No—he’s worse. He’s like a brick wall with demon blood that doesn’t flinch at anything. Felix is hard to scare, sure, but Nero? Nero’s on a whole different level. But right now, he’s distracted, and I’m thinking… this might be the one. The golden opportunity.
I’m crouched just out of sight, heart beating fast, excitement bubbling up in my chest like I’m a kid about to pull off the best prank of the century. This is it. He’s too deep in his head to see it coming. Perfect. I’ve got you now, Nero.
I tiptoe closer, quiet as a cat. Felix’s apartment isn’t much—just a couple rooms, a couch, and a whole lotta weird smells (seriously, what is that?), but it’s home enough for Nero while he figures out whatever existential shit he’s got going on.
I take a breath, hold it, and then—
“RAH!” I leap out from behind the couch, arms out like I’m a damn demon crawling outta hell. I scream loud enough to rattle the windows, full-on feral, just to get that reaction out of him.
And for a second, a glorious second, I think I’ve done it. Nero jerks, his body tensing up like he’s about to spring into action. His eyes go wide, hands shooting up like he’s ready to grab Red Queen or Blue Rose and shove them down whatever demon’s throat dared to come after him.
But then… nothing. He blinks. Looks at me. And then the realization sinks in, that heavy calm settling over his face as his eyes narrow. And I’m just standing there, caught in the middle of it, like a dumbass with my arms still raised, grinning like I’ve won something when, really, I’ve just lost.
Nero rubs a hand over his face, groaning like he’s disappointed in the whole world. “Corky… really?”
Goddammit.
I drop my arms, deflating like a balloon. “Seriously?! Nothing? I didn’t even get a flinch?”
“You got a grunt,” he says, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms like the unshakable bastard he is. There’s a flicker of amusement there, though, hiding just beneath that stone-cold expression. “That’s about all you’re getting.”
“I was so close,” I mutter, half to myself.
Please don’t hate me for using AI to create these images. They are just concepts so I can better visualize my OCs. And I sadly can’t draw. 😖
However! If anybody is down to commission them just let me know and I would literally pay you 😅 I would prefer to support an actual artist.
Anyway, I used Starryai and Midjourney to create these images, I tried to make them as close to the original render visual for DMC5 (Corky was especially hard to do which is another reason why I would prefer an actual person to draw them)
Felix and his Devil-Trigger (since he is a Nephilim I went with a black and gold color-scheme. Gold also works since he is Mammon’s son who is the ruler of Greed.) And if you have read my work, yes, Felix is HEAVILY inspired by Reboot!Dante. While DMC5!Nero took that character design I use what was left which was most of his backstory and personality mainly.
Corky and her Devil-Trigger (for some reason I gravitate towards a lot of orange when it comes to this character. And I went with a fly-like design because she is a gluttony demon. Gluttony = Beelzebub = Lord of the Flies?)
More of me nitpicking: Corky is actually supposed to have a darker skin tone (like Gloria's) but more some reason she was losing her roundness which I felt was more what I liked about her appearance since she is on the chubby side (there is another image of Corky on my banner as you can see) and we get no rep for curvier women.
Some more fun facts about my OCs
Originally when I created them they were supposed to be brother and sister. I even wrote an entire first draft of the original first saga with this dynamic in mind. However, I felt it would have been more interesting if they had separate backstories, so instead of another character (who was originally going to be the Nephilim but had a more serious personality) I removed him from the story (mostly because I felt he was boring and I kind of didn't know what to do with him) and gave that backstory to Felix. This made the rewrite so much smoother and gave both my OCs their own character arcs without the overlapping.
That is mainly the reason why I wouldn't pair them up, not only because Felix is a complete ass to Corky, but there is a bit of an ick factor since I went so long with developing them to have a sibling-dynamic.
When it comes to shipping, I originally did not intend to pair my OCs off with any of the canon characters. Especially Felix because there really isn't any options for him. With Corky I thought of self-indulgently getting her together with V (because I am the biggest V simp) but mostly didn't see that making much sense so am sticking more with the one-sided crush that's played for comedy. She might not end up with anybody either. If anything, based on a rewrite I am currently on *not the Wrath Followers but around Arc 4* there could possibly be her and Nero because when I'm writing their scenes I can see them becoming a slow-burn. But who knows.
As for other OCs, yes I do have other OCs planned to be part of the story, but decided not to make them main characters like Felix and Corky because its just a lot to keep up with. And I also don't want to take away from other canon characters like Nero, V, or even Nico. And yes, eventually Dante and Vergil are gonna come back so I can't have too many OCs that take away from the canon characters. Already I feel having two main OCs is enough.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Wrath Followers Arc - Chapter 2
*Mild NSFW* There is a bit of a scene involving Felix and a woman at a bar.
February 25th, 7:16 PM
Nero pushed the door open with a grunt, the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke slapping him in the face. It was the kind of dive where even the cockroaches looked like they needed a stiff drink. Low lights, sticky floors, and the kind of crowd that only comes out after midnight.
He scanned the room, irritation already bubbling under his skin. He knew Felix liked to disappear into places like this—bars, clubs, anywhere with enough liquor and willing company to keep him occupied. It was the same pattern every time. Felix would vanish for days, then reappear looking like he hadn’t slept, or worse, not giving a damn about the mess he left in his wake.
And now, Nero had to drag his ass back for work.
His gaze landed on a far corner of the bar, and sure enough, there he was—Felix, with his back to the wall and a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. A redheaded woman was practically sitting in his lap, laughing too loud and twirling a strand of hair around her finger while Felix leaned back, an easy grin plastered across his face. He looked like he didn’t have a single care in the world.
Of course, he didn’t.
Nero stormed over, not caring how many tables or chairs he bumped into on the way. “Felix!”
Felix glanced up, his grin widening when he saw Nero, as if he’d just run into an old friend. "Nero! Buddy! What’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this? You need a drink, man. Bartender!" He waved lazily at the bartender, who barely glanced their way.
"I’m not here for a drink, asshole," Nero snapped.
"You’re always so damn tense. Relax, have a seat," Felix grinned.
Nero gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m here to get your ass to work, not to watch you screw around.”
Felix snorted, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “Nice try, but I know the shop’s closed tonight. No gigs on the schedule, right? So what’s the rush? If this is about some random demon sighting or Nico needing a new part, you can save it for tomorrow.”
Nero was going to bring up the Sins but stopped himself due to the woman still in Felix’s lap, now eyeing Nero up.
She bit her lip, her legs parting just a bit too far, her dress riding up to reveal the barest hint of lace underneath—that Nero felt the blood rush to his face. He quickly averted his gaze back to Felix, “It’s not about that. This is different. We’ve got a big job coming up—something serious. V’s got a lead.”
Felix took another sip of his drink. “That sounds like a problem for tomorrow.” He shot Nero a lazy grin. “Look, first thing in the morning, we’ll talk. Or, y’know, whenever I get in. But right now? This ain’t the time, man.”
Nero was about to argue when he noticed Felix’s hand slip lower, disappearing under the edge of the redhead’s dress. The woman’s quiet moan slipped through the air, her hips subtly pressing into Felix’s touch.
“Goddamn it,” Nero muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking away from the woman’s flushed face as she let out another soft whimper. He wasn’t sticking around for this. “Fine,” Nero growled, already turning toward the door. “Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He was already pushing through the door, his boots heavy on the sticky floor, the bitter scent of whiskey and smoke clinging to his clothes as he stormed out into the night.
Later...
The shop was dark, save for the dim glow of the desk lamp on the far counter. It cast long shadows over the clutter of old mission files, scattered weapons, and half-empty coffee mugs. The place smelled like leather, gunpowder, and stale caffeine—familiar scents that Nero barely registered anymore.
He was hunched over the desk, sleeves rolled up, Red Queen lying in pieces before him. He wiped down the engine blade’s parts, oiled joints, and tightened screws. He’d done this a thousand times, but tonight it was different. Tonight, it was the only thing keeping his mind from spinning out.
Nero would be lying if he said that from time from time he remembered what he saw in Snowfield. In the Dreamscape. Felix holding his beloved bride in his arms. "She was my Kyrie..."
Dahlia...
After that day Felix never brought her up again. And Nero never asked. But a part of Nero feared that he would end up like Felix. Luckily Kyrie is still alive. Living in Fortuna. With Jose and the other children. There had been nights when he originally left that feared that maybe him leaving would have made Kyrie more vulnerable to an attack.
But after seeing what losing a loved one did to Felix, Nero had to convince himself he is doing the right thing. Otherwise he would go crazy. Did he miss Kyrie. Of course he did. But he loved her that much to let her go.
They still talked on the phone. He had visited her for Christmas. And things felt like how they used to.
Only... they weren't.
Nero would like to think they were in somewhat of a good place.
Shit, he's thinking too much again.
Wrath. The thought of it loomed over him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. After everything with Mammon and Belphegor, this next step felt heavier, more dangerous.
He paused, glancing at the large map tacked to the wall in front of him. If V was right, Wrath would be worse than the others, more violent. More blood.
He set the wrench down with a soft clink and leaned back in his chair, staring at the disassembled Red Queen.
The shop felt too quiet. Nico was asleep in her room upstairs. Marcus had gone home hours ago, probably still combing through databases for anything he could find on Vie de Marli. V was God knows where but at least he seemed to understand the gravity of their situation, while Felix was likely still at that bar, wrapped up in that woman who couldn’t care less about the world-ending bullshit coming their way. And Corky…
Fuck. He forgot to call Corky…
He found himself dialing her phone number. He used the landline. Her cell would show as the office and she would know that its official business. That's what Nero liked to think.
“H-hello?” Corky mumbled, her voice thick with sleep, barely coherent.
“Hey, it’s Nero.”
“Yeah I know… It’s—ugh—do you know what time it is?”
He glanced at the clock. 4:24 AM.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I… guess I lost track of time.”
“Have you slept at all?”
Nero blinked, thrown off by the question. “Uh… what?”
“Sleep. Y'know, that thing normal people do at night?” Her tone was sarcastic, but Nero spent enough time to pick up on the concern behind it. “You sound like you’ve been up for days.”
Nero huffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He didn’t want to go down the whole ‘when was the last time you slept’ rabbit hole.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, doing his best to push past her comment. “Listen, there’s a job coming up. It’s big.”
Corky paused, probably piecing together that Nero wasn’t calling just for a chat. “Big? How big we talkin’?”
“Wrath,” Nero said, cutting straight to it. “V’s got a lead. Some missing girl might be tied to him. She’s mixed up in dark stuff, like rituals, witchcraft. We’re heading to an island called Vie de Marli.”
The silence on the other end stretched for a moment. “Witchcraft? Vie de Marli…” Corky repeated, her voice now more alert.
“Yeah. V thinks we’ll be dealing with him sooner rather than later. And, look, I know you’ve been up to your neck in crap in Limbo, but we’re gonna need you for this one.”
There was a groan, then the sound of fabric rustling, like Corky was sitting up in bed. “Of course. I’m almost done cleaning up some loose ends here. I can be in Red Grave soon.”
“Good,” Nero replied.
Another beat of silence, then Corky’s voice came through, softer. “But Wrath… Nero, this could get ugly. I mean, uglier than Mammon and Belphegor. We’re talking full-on rage demon bullshit, the kind that’ll rip the city apart if we’re not ready.”
“I know.” Nero rubbed his temples, exhaustion weighing him down again.
Corky sighed on the other end. “Yeah, well, stop thinking about it and go the hell to sleep. You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead on your feet, Nero.”
Nero chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Easier said than done. I’ve got too much on my plate.”
“Well, tough shit,” Corky shot back, her tone lightening with that familiar bite of sarcasm. “You are not on your own, you got a team so you better get some shut-eye. Don’t make me come over there and force you into bed.”
Nero snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Please, you’re not that heavy,” she quipped, a grin sneaking into her voice. “Don’t lose sleep over this. I’ve seen what happens when you burn out, and it ain’t pretty. Trust me.”
Nero let out a long breath, staring at the disassembled Red Queen on the counter. She wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll try,” he muttered, though it wasn’t exactly convincing.
“Try harder,” Corky shot back, her voice firm. With that, she hung up.
He stood up, stretching out the tightness in his back and glancing at the clock—4:30 AM. He hadn’t slept in two days, maybe more. His mind was still buzzing, but for once, he was actually considering following her advice.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Wrath Followers Arc - Chapter 1
Synopsis: With rumors spreading regarding dark witchcraft spreading to the hidden islands of Vie de Marli, Nero gathers his team to look into the possible confrontation with Wrath. How would this effect them? Can they resist the urge of bloodlust and rage?
February 25th, 6:58 PM – Two minutes before closing time at Devil May Cry shop
Nero sat behind the counter, one leg kicked up on the desk, tapping his boot in a half-assed rhythm. His arm rested across the back of his chair like he was born to lounge, though the slight twitch in his fingers told a different story. He was bored out of his skull. He stared at the clock, waiting for the clock to strike 7 so he can close-up.
Nero then sees a car pull up right in front of the shop. Shit. Please tell me there is just limited parking, and he’s just headed to Bullseye’s Bar…
But nope, the man, a burly older guy was squinting at the neon sign. Wrong place, wrong place… Nero spotted the man nodding. Goddammit…
The bell above it gave a cheerful jingle.
The man’s shirt was wrinkled, jacket thrown on like an afterthought, and he was balding. “Devil May Cry,” Nero said mechanically, sitting up straight, “What do you need?”
"Uh, hi… I’m Mr. Gjerde. Lars. Lars Gjerde. Am I—am I too late?" He glanced at the clock on the wall, which read two minutes to closing.
Nero gave him a slow once-over, eyebrow cocked. "Nah. We close at seven." He waved a hand lazily.
Gjerde nodded, awkwardly shuffling further into the shop, almost tripping on the rug in the process. Meanwhile, Marcus had poked his head out from the back. Nico was with him, on the phone giggling with someone.
"Nico, we got a client. He’s got that 'I might cry in the car' look.”
“They all look like that, Marcus. Sorry, what was that. No, that’s just Marcus. He’s kind of our morality pet.”
“Hey! Wait… who are you talking to?” Nico held a hand up.
“Okay, let me know how it goes. Have fun!” She hung up the phone, “Alright, let’s see what this poor sunovabitch wants.” As she led Marcus out of the back, Lars was already explaining his situation to Nero.
"My daughter… Abigail. She's been missing for—well, for several years now. The police gave up, said it was one of those ‘runaway’ cases. But I know it wasn’t that. Abigail… she got mixed up with the wrong people. People who… dabble in witchcraft. Dark stuff."
Nero leaned forward, resting his arms on the counter, eyes narrowing. "Witchcraft? Dark stuff? That’s pretty vague, pal."
Gjerde swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting with the frayed edges of his jacket sleeve. "I’m not sure what all of it means, but… recently, I heard something. From an old friend. Said she might be on an island—Vie de Marli. Have you heard of it?"
Nico’s eyebrows shot up. "Vie de Marli?”
Nero glanced at her, then back at Lars. "And this ‘friend’—he just so happens to know your daughter’s holed up there? Sounds… convenient."
"He didn’t say she was there for sure, but he saw someone… someone who looked like her," Lars replied, his eyes wide with desperate hope. "I don’t know what else to do. Please, she’s my daughter."
Nero sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, we’ll look into it.”
As if on cue, a voice came from behind them. "Vie de Marli. It’s not a place one travels to lightly."
Marcus yelped as he spun around. There, standing in the shadow of the room, was V. Tall, pale, and unreadable as ever, he leaned casually on his cane, like he'd been there the whole time.
"What the hell?" Marcus sputtered. "Where did you even come from?"
"Better question," Nico added, hand on her hip, "why do you always show up like a damn ghost?”
V ignored them both, his eyes fixed on Nero. " Several hundred years ago, Sparda aided in exorcising an ancient evil known as Argosax The Chaos who was worshipped by a secret tribe of people among the inhabitants of the islands, and was the most malevolent god that ever existed. Sparda used the Arcanas with the help of the Protectors clan to seal the great devil. However, there have been rumors of wrath hidden within."
"Wrath?" Nero repeated. "You think this has to do with the Sins?"
V nodded slowly. "I suspect so. Wrath’s influence has been growing, and if Abigail has been involved in any dark arts, she may have unwittingly crossed into that territory. This is not any rescue mission. It’s a hunt."
Lars, who had been standing in stunned silence, now looked like someone had just poured ice water down his back. "What—what does that mean? What is Wrath?"
Nico shook her head, muttering under her breath, "Don’t worry sir, leave things to the professionals."
Nero glanced over to the map tacked to the wall behind the counter. His eyes flicked over the various pins and notes scrawled across it. One spot stood out—a knife buried deep into the map, marking a point just off the coast of the Americas. Scrawled in red ink next to it: Vie de Marli.
After completing their business with Lars, they informed him that they would keep him updated and he made his way out of the shop. Nero locked the door and flipped the sign to close.
"Dante mentioned something about Vie de Marli before," Nero told the others. "Apparently he has a friend that lives there. Never said much more.”
Marcus chimed in, pulling up some info on his computer. "Vie de Marli… this place is, uh… well, I can’t find much information on it on the web. I’ll call my old man and see if he’s got anything on it. Maybe he knows something about this 'friend' of Dante’s."
Nero nodded. "Good. Get everything you can from Morrison.”
"So… when do we head out?” Nico asked, “'Cause if it’s soon, I need to figure out transport for the van. Also, we might wanna give Corky a heads-up. She’s still in Limbo City, right?"
"Yeah," Nero said, his eyes still fixed on the map. "We’ll need her. She’s just been doing some damage control from the mess we left behind after Mammon."
"And Felix?" Marcus asked, cautiously.
Nero grimaced, a sharp breath leaving him.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Card Games
Characters: Nero, V, Felix (OC), Corky (OC), Marcus (OC)
Summary: Some people can take certain games a little more seriously than others...
Location: Devil May Cry shop, Red Grave City
February 26th, 2015
2:58am
The Devil May Cry shop was unusually quiet for this time of night. The soft crackling of the neon sign outside and the occasional clatter of ice in a glass filled the air as the crew had gathered around the beat-up card table in the middle of the shop, a mismatched assortment of chairs pulled up as they settled in for their usual late-night ritual: card games.
Nero and Felix sat opposite each other, eyes locked in.
Nico, perched on the edge of the couch with a beer in hand, glanced between the two of them, smirking. “Y’all look like you’re about to throw down. What’s the stakes this time?”
“Loser cleans the shop for a week," Felix explained, "And no skippin’ out on the hard stuff. We’re talkin’ scrubbin’ the toilets, takin’ out the trash… the whole shebang.”
“You’re on, Felix," Nero said with a cocky grin, "Hope you like the smell of bleach.”
“You two and your pissing contests," Corky muttered, mouth full of pizza. "I swear, this is more fun to watch than to play.”
Marcus was nervously adjusting his glasses from his spot at the far end of the table. He was acting as the designated dealer for the night.
V sat off to the side, a cup of tea steamed in front of him, and he seemed content to simply observe, his gaze drifting between Nero and Felix.
“So, what’s it gonna be tonight, boys?” Marcus asked. He started dealing out the cards with surprisingly nimble fingers.
Felix grinned as he picked up his hand, “Texas Hold’em, of course. Something to separate the men from the boys.”
Nero scoffed, “I’ve got this one in the bag.”
Nico grinned, leaning back and sipping her beer as she watched the unfolding drama. “Can’t wait to see who’s scrubbing the floor tomorrow.”
The first round was tense, Felix occasionally cursing when a card didn’t go his way. Nero, on the other hand, kept his expression carefully neutral, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he was holding onto something big.
Felix narrowed his eyes, watching Nero with the kind of focus that suggested he was trying to read his soul. “You’re bluffin’, man. I can see it in your eyes.”
Nero raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Am I? Or are you just sweating because you know you’re beat?”
V sipped his tea silently.
Marcus dealt the next round, with a childish grin. He wasn’t much of a gambler, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the show. “Place your bets, gentlemen. Let’s see who’s got the stones.”
Felix threw in a few chips, leaning forward as he eyed Nero. “I’m all in. Let’s see what you got, pretty boy.”
Nero’s grin widened as he pushed his own stack of chips into the center of the table. “You’re about to find out.”
The others watched with bated breath as the final cards were revealed. Felix’s face twisted in frustration as he saw Nero’s hand—a full house, aces over kings. Nero’s grin turned into a full-blown smirk as he raked in the chips.
“Looks like you’ll be getting real familiar with a mop and bucket, Felix,” Nero said
Felix shook his head with a rueful smile. “You got me this time, Nero. But don’t get too comfortable. Next round, I’m takin’ you down.”
Nico laughed, reaching over to give Nero a playful punch on the arm. “Damn, you really are ruthless. Remind me never to bet against you.”
Corky, still munching on pizza, grinned at Felix. “Better start planning your cleaning schedule, Felix. Those toilets aren’t gonna scrub themselves.”
Marcus, relieved that the round was over, started shuffling the deck for the next game. “Alright, who’s in for round two? Same stakes?”
Felix cracked his knuckles. “Hell yeah. I ain’t goin’ down like this.”
Nero leaned back in his chair, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
By the time the clock ticked past 3 AM, the pile of chips in front of Nero was looking dangerously large, while Felix’s stack had dwindled considerably.
“Alright, last round,” Nero announced, leaning forward as he eyed his cards. “Winner takes all, and the loser… well, let’s just say they’re gonna be real busy tomorrow.”
Felix threw in his last few chips, looking like he was having much less fun than in the beginning.
As the final cards were dealt, Nero and Felix stared each other down. But in the end, it was Nero who laid down the winning hand, his full house beating Felix’s straight.
“Looks like I win again,” Nero said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
Felix shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Damn, you really are one lucky bastard.”
"Fuck!" Felix swore, throwing a bottle. "Fuck this game!"
Corky and Nico burst out laughing, while V smoothly moved his head from the incoming bottle as it shattered against the wall. Marcus flinched.
“Alright, Felix,” Nero said, grinning as he gathered up the chips. “You know the deal. Shop’s gotta be spotless by tomorrow night.”
Felix waved him off as he stood up from the table. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I'm goin' to Love Planet.”
Felix stormed out, slamming the door behind and as Nico winced glancing at Nero he merely shrugged. "He's a sore loser."
"No kiddin'," Nico muttered.
With the cards put away and the chips divided, the group began to disperse.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Devil-Hunting Games part 2
Characters: Nero, V, Felix (OC), Corky (OC)
Summary: Getting V to join in on the fun.
Location: Red Grave City
February 18th
8:05pm
They had been tracking a particularly nasty demon that had been terrorizing the area, and tonight was the night to put an end to it. But before they got down to business, there was one thing on everyone’s mind: getting V to finally join in on one of their games.
“So, V,” Felix drawled, eyeing the dark-haired man lounging on a stack of crates, “you’ve been hanging with us long enough. Time to stop bein’ a wallflower and join the fun. What’s your poison?”
“Yeah, come on, V. You’ve been sitting on the sidelines too long. We’ve got ‘Heads Up,’ ‘Demon Bingo,’ and Felix’s favorite, ‘Friendly Fire’," Corky said.
Nero shot Felix a glare. “Is that what’s called? I thought it was called ‘How many times does Felix accidentally shoot at Nero’?”
Felix chuckled, waving it off. “You’re still standing, ain’t ya?”
V finally looked up. “If I must partake in this… game,” he began, his voice low and smooth, “I prefer something a bit more… cerebral.”
Nero raised an eyebrow. “Cerebral, huh? What’d you have in mind?”
V’s smile grew a fraction as he straightened up, placing a slender hand on the cover of his poetry book. “I propose a game of ‘Demon Haiku.’ Simple, yet challenging. Each time we dispatch a demon, we compose a haiku about its demise. The most evocative and artful haiku wins the round.”
Felix blinked, then burst out laughing. “Poetry? That sounds... lame.”
“What's the matter, Felix? Ain't witty enough to string along some words?" Corky taunted. "This could be fun. Might even help me think up new insults. Creative.”
Nero nodded. “Alright, V. We’ll give it a shot. Something new.”
V inclined his head, accepting the challenge with a grace that seemed almost out of place in the grimy warehouse. “Very well. Shall we begin?”
The night kicked off with a bang—literally, as a group of Empusa burst through the decaying walls, their screeches filling the air. Nero was the first to leap into action, Red Queen roaring to life as he cleaved through the demons with practiced ease. Felix followed suit, blasting away with Revenant, while Corky’s axe whirled in a deadly arc.
V hung back, summoning Griffon to pick off the stragglers. Once the last demon fell, he stepped forward, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes. “Now, who shall be first?”
Felix snorted. He scratched his chin, pretending to ponder deeply before delivering his haiku:
“Shotgun sings so loud,
Demons drop like flies in rain,
Bang, bang, they all fall.”
“Ooh, bars,” Corky applauded.
Nero wiped a bit of demon blood off his cheek, thinking for a moment before grinning. “Alright, I’ll give it a go.” He cleared his throat:
“Blood-red claws descend,
Steel meets flesh in deadly dance,
Silence follows death.”
Corky burst out laughing. “It’s giving death-metal lyrics.” She glanced at the carnage around them, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she came up with her entry:
“Blades flash in the dark,
Demons beg for swift release,
I grant no mercy.”
V listened to each haiku. Finally, it was his turn. He stepped forward, his voice smooth and melodic as he recited his haiku:
“Darkness claims their souls,
Nightmares born of sin and pain,
Only ashes left.”
“Alright, V,” Nero admitted, nodding. “You’ve got us beat there.”
Felix shrugged, not quite willing to concede but unable to argue.
V allowed himself a small smile, and dramatically bowed.
As the night dragged on and the demons kept coming, the energy started to dip. The initial thrill of "Demon Haiku" was fading.
Felix scratched his head, staring blankly at the demon blood splattered on the pavement.
"Is it Felix's turn?" V asked genuinely causing Nero to snort.
"Today, man," Corky teased Felix. "While we're young."
“Shut up, let me think.”
Corky, wiping some demon guts off her axe, rolled her eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
"V, next time we should set like a time limit on these things," Nero muttered.
“Demons go down fast-" Felix began before Corky cut him off.
“You can't keep starting your haikus the same way, that's cheating!”
Felix shot her a tired glare. “You know what Corky, I am real sick of your shit,” Corky didn't even hide her grin at Felix's tone, "I ain't a damn poet!"
“It's okay, Felix. Haikus is for the intellectually gifted.”
Felix huffed. “Fuck you. One of you go. I'm done. Fuck this game!”
Corky didn’t even hesitate, stepping forward and swinging her axe to rest on her shoulder as she spoke:
“Axes cut like stone, Demons crumble at my feet, Nothing left but dust.”
Felix groaned.
Nero cleared his throat dramatically and gave it a shot.
“Demons fall tonight, Sword cuts through the dark, Victory is… mine?”
Corky burst out laughing. “Dude, your syllables are off count.”
Nero blinked, then counted it out again on his fingers. His face fell when he realized she was right. “Ah, shit.”
"He's out too, right?" Felix asked.
"Hey, whoa! No one's out, you quit!"
Before Felix could retort, Griffon swooped down from above, landing on V’s shoulder with a loud squawk. “Geez, look what you done, Shakespeare. These idiots are gonna wear you out with their constant bickering.”
“I was curious to see what wordsmithing talents they possibly possess, Griffon.”
"Well, maybe next time let's just leave them to hackin' and slashin', yeah?"
Despite the game heading south, they completed the job swiftly and were ready to pack it up and head home.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Devil-Hunting Games
Characters: Nero, Felix (OC), Corky (OC)
Summary: Some gigs can start to feel a little stale when you deal with the same crap, different day. Sometimes you gotta get a little creative.
Location: Red Grave City
February 10th
7:15pm
The streets of Red Grave City were slick with recent rain, the dim light from the streetlamps casting long shadows as Nero, Felix, and Corky made their way through the deserted alleys. The night was quiet, too quiet, which usually meant they were about to run into something nasty.
“Alright, you two,” Nero said, cracking his knuckles as they rounded a corner. “Who’s up for a little wager?”
Felix raised an eyebrow, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’re you thinkin’, Nero? Another round of ‘Heads Up’?”
Corky groaned, rolling her eyes. “Not ‘Heads Up’ again. Felix always cheats.”
“Oh I cheat? You are the one who can identify a species with just smell,” Felix argued.
“Doesn’t mean I always know what it is!” Corky protested.
“Felix you are notorious for cheating. Like how you conveniently forgot to call out that Hellbat before it dive-bombed me?” Nero pointed out.
Felix grinned wider, shrugging. “Hey, that wasn’t cheating. That was strategic withholding of information.”
Corky laughed, despite herself. “More like being a dick, but whatever.”
Heads Up was one of their go-to games during a hunt. The rules were simple: the first person to call out a demon before it appeared won a point. But if you called out a demon that didn’t show, you lost a point.
“Fine, no ‘Heads Up’ tonight,” Nero said, scanning the alley ahead. “How about ‘Demon Bingo’?”
Corky perked up at the mention of her game, her grin wide as she reached into her jacket pocket. “You guys are in luck. I made fresh cards this morning.” She pulled out three crumpled pieces of paper, each carefully marked with demon names and a few bonus squares. She handed one to Nero and one to Felix.
Felix took his card, glancing at it with mock suspicion. “You rigged these.”
“You think I have time to rig bingo cards? That’s giving me way too much credit.”
Nero studied his card, and laughed. “‘Nico swears’. That one’s easy.”
Corky chuckled. “I thought you’d like that one. There’s also a ‘Dante mention’.”
Nero folded his card into his pocket, still grinning. “Alright, let’s see… We’ve got Hell Antenora, Scarecrows, a Blitz, and a Frost. First one to cross out a full line gets to pick dinner.”
“Last place is buying!” Corky added.
As they moved deeper into the city, they could sense the demons lurking in the shadows.
Nero was the first to spot movement—a blur of red darting between buildings. “Heads up! Hell Antenora, two o’clock!”
Corky grinned, readying Gladius. “That’s one for you, but I’m about to cash in on that Scarecrow.”
Sure enough, a group of Scarecrows shuffled into view. Corky charged forward with a battle. Felix hung back, letting her take the lead—he had his eyes on something bigger.
“Don’t get too cocky, Cork,” Felix called out. “You’re about to have company.”
Just then, a Frost appeared, its icy breath visible in the night air. Felix grinned, raising Revenant and letting off a few well-placed shots. The Frost howled, shattering into pieces.
Nero wasn’t about to let Felix steal the show. Spotting a Blitz charging up its electric attack, he revved Red Queen, the blade sparking with energy. “I got this one,” he said, launching himself at the Blitz with a burst of speed.
“Think that counts as a line?” Corky asked, breathing heavily as she stood over the remains of a Noboddy, the last demon in the area. She wiped a bit of blood off her cheek, smirking at Felix and Nero.
Nero checked his makeshift bingo card, grinning. “Looks like it. Guess you’re buying burgers tonight, Felix.”
Felix groaned, slinging Revenant over his shoulder.
As they walked through the quiet streets, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, they fell into a comfortable silence.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Flea Market
Summary: Nico drags Corky on an early Saturday morning to find some spare parts for some upgrades on the DMC van.
Characters: Corky (OC), Nico
Location: Red Grave City Outskirts
February 2nd
8:05 AM
Too damn early for anything, especially on a weekend. Corky stood outside the apartment, rubbing her eyes and suppressing a yawn. The morning air was crisp, biting at her skin, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She was still half-asleep, wondering what the hell had possessed her to agree to this.
The van pulled up and Nico was wide awake, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She grinned at Corky like she hadn’t dragged her out of bed at an ungodly hour. “There she is! I was starting to think you were gonna bail on me.”
Corky groaned, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I almost did. You know it’s the weekend, right? Normal people are still asleep.” Nico laughed. “Well, good thing we ain’t normal, huh? Besides, this’ll be fun. Promise.”
Corky raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘fun.’ ‘Cause if it’s anything like the last time you said that, I’m out.”
Nico waved her off, already heading towards her van. “That was different! This is… I dunno, more laid-back. We’re just gonna hit up the flea market. Maybe grab some breakfast after. I got a lead on some old parts I need, and you can check out the food stands. They’ve got everything from churros to fried Twinkies.”
Corky hesitated, glancing at the street like she was considering making a run for it. “I dunno, Nico… Crowds…” She shivered at the thought.
Nico rolled her eyes. “Ain’t gonna be that bad. We’ll be in and out before the rush. Plus, I know you can’t resist good food, and you gotta eat breakfast sometime. Might as well make it worth it.”
Corky sighed, knowing Nico had a point. She was already up. “Fine, but I’m not carrying any of your junk.”
Nico grinned, pulling open the van door. “Deal. Now get in, lazybones. We’re burnin’ daylight!”
Corky muttered under her breath as she climbed into the van, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.
The drive was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional grumble from Corky’s stomach. Nico glanced over, smirking. “See? Your belly knows what’s up.”
Corky shot her a glare, “My stomach always does that.” The smell of freshly brewed coffee and something greasy was starting to sound more appealing by the minute.
As they pulled into the flea market parking lot, Corky took a deep breath, steeling herself for the onslaught of humanity. Nico hopped out. “Come on, Corkscrew. First stop, coffee. Then we can dig through the treasure trove.”
Corky nodded, already scanning the market stalls for anything that looked edible. “Yeah, yeah.”
The entrance to the flea market was a bottleneck of people milled around like they had all the time in the world. The coffee line stretched out, and Corky immediately regretted not bailing when she had the chance. The stench of unwashed bodies hit her like a slap in the face. Sweat, cheap cologne, and the unmistakable tang of someone who’d skipped brushing their teeth this morning.
Corky’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ugh. Is it just me, or does this place smell like a middle-school locker room?”
Nico just grinned. “Oh you and your super-human smell.”
Corky shot her a look, “I can’t help it. It’s in my gluttony-demon nature.” She turned on her heel, ready to make a break for it. But before she could get two steps, Nico’s hand clamped down on her arm, strong as a vise. Corky blinked, surprised by the grip. For a human, Nico had some serious strength.
“We’re already here!” Nico protested. “I just wanna spend some time with you, buddy. Is that too much to ask?”
“I could be in bed right now, y’know? Or eating something that doesn’t smell like it’s been deep-fried in engine oil.”
Nico huffed, not letting go. “You’ll live. Look, flea markets are awesome! You never know what you’re gonna find. It’s like a treasure hunt. Plus, I could use your help finding parts for my next project. I swear, it’ll be fun.”
Corky sighed, giving the crowded market one last glare before relenting. “Fine. What’s your next project, anyway?”
Nico’s eyes lit up, her grip finally loosening as she launched into an explanation. “I’m thinkin’ about modifying the van’s suspension. Get it to handle better in rough terrain. Plus, I might rig up a turret system for when we’re on the move. You know, just in case we need some extra firepower.”
“A turret system? You’re not planning to turn that thing into a tank, are you?”
Nico laughed with a snort.
Corky chuckled. “You’re nuts. But alright, I’m in. Let’s find your parts.”
As they walked through the market, Corky’s initial irritation began to fade. The smells were still there, but she started to notice other things too. The bright colors of the stalls, the eclectic mix of goods ranging from old vinyl records to antique furniture, and the weird but oddly charming trinkets that seemed to have a story behind them. She found herself smiling despite herself, especially as Nico dove headfirst into boxes of rusty car parts, her eyes gleaming like a kid on Christmas morning.
They stumbled upon a stand selling ridiculous novelty hats, and Corky couldn’t resist trying one on—a giant sombrero with sequins. Nico burst out laughing, snapping a quick picture with her phone.
“You look like you’re about to start a mariachi band,” Nico teased.
Corky smirked, tilting the hat to a jaunty angle. “Maybe I should.”
As she admired herself in a nearby mirror, she noticed Nico lugging around a big bag. Corky raised an eyebrow. “What, are you planning on buying out the whole place? Where you gonna put all that?”
Nico shot her a sly grin. “Well, I figured that’s where you come in, Ms. Muscles. You’re the one with the brawn, after all.”
Corky blinked, staring at the bag, then back at Nico. “You expect me to carry that? It’s gonna get heavy.”
Nico shrugged, unfazed. “That’s why I brought you along!”
Corky rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.”
As they weaved through the market, the crowd thickened. Corky wasn’t one to get claustrophobic, but the sea of bodies jostling for space was enough to make anyone feel a little uneasy. She glanced at Nico, who was barely breaking a sweat, but Corky couldn’t shake the nagging worry that they might get separated in this mess.
Nico must’ve caught the look on her face because she nudged her playfully. “What’s the matter, Corkscrew? Worried you’re gonna lose me in here?”
Corky frowned, brushing it off. “Nah, I’m good. Just don’t wanna lose sight of you, that’s all.”
Nico’s grin turned wicked. “Aw, does that mean you wanna hold hands? How sweet.”
Corky shot her a glare. “I’m not five, Nico. I can keep up.”
“Sure, sure,” Nico said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “But if you get lost, I’ll have to ask security to call you over the loudspeaker. You know, like they do for lost kids? ‘Little Corky, please report to the front desk. Your mommy’s looking for you.’”
Corky bristled, her cheeks flushing. “I’m not a kid!”
Nico laughed, and before Corky could protest further, Nico reached down and ruffled her hair.
“Tell you what, let’s make a bet. We hold hands, and if we get separated, you owe me breakfast. Deal?”
Corky crossed her arms, trying to ignore how ridiculous this whole thing was. But she knew Nico wouldn’t let it go until she agreed. With a resigned sigh, she finally said, “Fine. But if we don’t get separated, you’re the one buying breakfast. And you’re carrying your own damn bag.”
Nico’s grin was all triumph. “Deal.” She extended her hand, wiggling her fingers playfully.
Corky rolled her eyes one last time before grabbing Nico’s hand, their fingers interlocking.
As they continued through the stalls, Nico made a show of leading the way, practically dragging Corky along with her.
Sure enough, not even ten minutes in, the crowd thickened like syrup, bodies jostling and pushing as everyone tried to get to the next stall. Corky’s grip on Nico’s hand tightened, but no matter how hard she tried to hold on, it started to slip.
“Nico, slow down!” Corky grumbled, her frustration growing as Nico plowed ahead like a woman on a mission.
But Nico was oblivious, or maybe she just didn’t care. She kept moving, eyes scanning the stalls for whatever parts she had in mind. Corky tried to keep up, but then a group of overly enthusiastic tourists in matching fanny packs suddenly appeared out of nowhere, chattering loudly in some language she didn’t recognize. One of them bumped into her, and that was all it took. Her grip slipped, and before she knew it, she was swept away in the tide of bodies.
“Dammit,” Corky muttered under her breath, elbowing her way through the crowd. She could see Nico up ahead, that familiar head of tousled dark hair bobbing in the distance.
Corky shoved past a group of hipsters debating the merits of vinyl records, nearly tripped over a kid chasing after a balloon, and ducked under an old man carrying a box of rusty tools.
Corky burst through the crowded entrance, a little out of breath and definitely out of patience. And there, leaning casually against a post with a smug grin, was Nico, waiting for her.
“Well, well,” Nico drawled, the knowing glint in her eye impossible to miss. “Looks like I won.”
Corky shot her a look, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Nico just laughed, pushing off the post and strolling over to her like she hadn’t just dragged her through a maze of human obstacles. “You okay there, Cork?”
“I’m fine,” Corky snapped. “But you walk too damn fast.”
Nico shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe. But a bet’s a bet. You owe me breakfast.”
Corky huffed, but she knew there was no getting out of it. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”
Nico grinned, hooking her arm around Corky’s shoulders as they made their way to the food stalls. “Too late. C’mon, let’s get some grub. You look like you could use it.”
They found a stand selling greasy breakfast sandwiches that smelled way better than Corky had expected. She grudgingly handed over the cash, ordering two of the biggest sandwiches they had, along with two cups of steaming coffee. The vendor handed them their food with a smile, and they made their way to a small, slightly rickety table off to the side.
By the time they were sitting down with their sandwiches and coffee, Corky was feeling more awake, even a little relaxed. She still wasn’t a morning person, though.
After finishing their breakfast, Corky and Nico decided to dive back into the flea market. Corky was less grumpy now that she had food in her belly, and Nico was as enthusiastic as ever.
Their first stop was a booth overflowing with old car parts, exactly the kind of treasure trove Nico loved. Rusty gears, battered hubcaps, and various unidentifiable metal pieces were strewn across tables and piled in bins. Nico’s eyes lit up as she rummaged through the junk, pulling out items and inspecting them like a kid in a candy store.
“Look at this, Cork,” Nico said, holding up a cracked but salvageable carburetor. “This’ll be perfect for that engine I’m rebuilding. Might need a little TLC, but it’s a steal at this price.”
Corky nodded, pretending to understand the excitement over what looked like a piece of scrap metal. “Yeah, looks… great. You sure it won’t blow up when you stick it in the van?”
Nico chuckled, tossing the part into her bag. “Nah, I got this. Trust me.”
They moved on, with Nico continuing to hunt for parts while Corky occasionally picked up odd items—a set of mismatched wrenches, an old speedometer, a cracked side mirror—wondering what Nico would do with them. At one point, Corky found a small, battered toolbox, and after some negotiation with the vendor, she bought it for Nico. Next, they wandered over to a stand selling vintage clothing. Nico found an old leather jacket that fit her perfectly, worn in just the right places, while Corky tried on a pair of aviator sunglasses that made her look like a tiny, angry cop. Nico couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, and Corky couldn’t help but join in.
“Okay, okay, I won’t get them,” Corky said, putting the sunglasses back. “But that jacket? You gotta get it.’
Nico grinned, slipping the jacket on and checking herself out in a cracked mirror.
They continued their exploration, stumbling upon a stall selling various weapons—mostly decorative, but a few were practical enough to catch Corky’s interest. She picked up a small, wickedly sharp knife, balancing it in her hand and testing the weight.
“Thinking of adding to your collection?” Nico asked, eyeing the blade. Corky shrugged. “Maybe. It’s got a nice feel to it. Could come in handy.”
Nico raised an eyebrow. “You and your knives. You’ve already got, what, a dozen?”
Corky smirked. “Fourteen, actually. But who’s counting?”
They moved on to a stall that was selling quirky trinkets and oddities.
Corky was drawn to a small, intricately carved wooden box. She opened it to find it filled with what looked like old letters, their ink faded but still legible.
“What’s that?” Nico asked, peering over Corky’s shoulder.
Corky shrugged, closing the box. “Just some old love letters, I think. Kind of interesting, but I don’t need more clutter.”
Nico gave her a knowing look. “Yeah, but I bet you’re curious now. What’s the story behind them?”
Corky rolled her eyes but ended up buying the box anyway. She figured she could go through the letters later—maybe there was something worth reading in there.
As the morning wore on, they continued exploring, occasionally stopping for snacks—a churro here, a fried dough there. Corky even bought a jar of homemade pickles from an old lady who swore they were the best in the city.
By the time they’d gone through most of the market, Corky’s earlier reluctance had all but disappeared. She wasn’t exactly a flea market convert, but she had to admit, it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Saturday morning. Plus, watching Nico light up with excitement over every weird and wonderful find was almost worth the early wake-up call.
Finally, with their bags full and their wallets lighter, they decided to call it a day. As they headed back to the van, Nico looked over at Corky with a satisfied grin.
“See? Told ya it’d be fun.”
Corky just shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips. “Yeah, yeah. But next time, I’m picking the place. And it better not involve getting up before sunrise.”
Nico laughed, slinging her arm around Corky’s shoulders as they walked. “Deal. But don’t act like you didn’t have a good time. You’re just mad you lost the bet.”
Corky realized that she didn’t have many girlfriends. There was Blessing back in Limbo City, but she was far too mature to ever hang out with. It was refreshing. Just them girls. No Felix calling Corky a fat ass and checking out Nico. No Nero with his perpetual frown.
As they drove back to Red Grave City, the van loaded with their flea market finds, Corky couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Despite the early hour, the crowds, and Nico’s relentless energy, it had been a good day. And maybe, just maybe, she’d even look forward to the next time Nico dragged her out on one of these adventures.
DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Sparring Match
Characters: Corky (OC), Felix (OC)
Summary: Corky and Felix bond with their fists.
Location: Training Area, Red Grave City
November 3rd
1:40am
The training area was a mess. Dented walls, scorched floors, and the remains of a punching bag hanging by a thread. That was just from last week.
“Alright, big guy, ready for another round?” Corky cracked her knuckles.
Felix rolled his eyes, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re gonna have to try harder this time. Last round, I could’ve taken a nap and still dodged your swings. It’s almost unfair you’ve got two weapons. You’re lucky I don’t fight dirty… most of the time.”
“‘Most of the time,’ he says. Like I haven’t seen you sneak in a cheap shot or two,” Corky retorted, picking up a pair of weights and spinning them in her hands like they weighed nothing. She flicked one at Felix, who caught it with a grunt, the force sending him skidding back a few inches.
“Alright, alright,” Felix muttered, tossing the weight aside. “I see how it is.”
They squared off, circling each other in the center of the room. The floor was already cracked from previous encounters. There was even a hole in the far wall from when Corky had accidentally thrown Felix through it last week. He was still feeling that one in his ribs.
Corky’s eyes narrowed, but there was a glint of humor there. “So, what’s the bet this time? Loser buys dinner?”
Felix grinned, shifting his stance. “Loser buys dinner, and the winner gets to pick where.”
“You’re on, pretty boy.” Corky lunged, fast and strong, her fist cutting through the air with a force that could crack concrete.
Felix barely dodged, the wind from her punch ruffling his hair.
“Damn, Corky! What did the wall ever do to you?” he teased, ducking under her next swing and landing a light jab on her arm, just to let her know he could.
Corky smirked, unfazed. “You know, I was thinking of redecorating. Maybe I’ll knock down a few more walls, open up the space.”
Felix laughed, his movements quick and fluid as he dodged her next barrage of strikes. But she was relentless, pushing him back toward the wall. She had a knack for cornering him, and he wasn’t about to let that happen again. With a quick pivot, he slipped around her, delivering a playful slap to her ass as he passed.
“You’ve got to be faster than that, Corky,” Felix called over his shoulder, a grin plastered across his face.
Corky just shook her head, chuckling as she turned to face him again. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. We both know how this is gonna end.”
Felix’s grin widened. “Yeah? We’ll see about that.”
They clashed again. Corky’s strength was undeniable, but Felix was quick, slippery, always finding a way out of her grasp. Still, she was getting closer with each swing, each jab pushing him a little further back, a little closer to the wall.
In a split second, Felix saw his opening—a brief lapse in Corky’s defense. He darted forward, aiming for her midsection, but Corky was ready. She sidestepped, grabbing him by the arm and using his own momentum against him. Before he knew it, he was airborne, soaring across the room.
“Shit!” Felix yelled as he crashed into a stack of mats, the impact sending them flying in all directions.
Corky sauntered over, her hands on her hips, a triumphant grin on her face. “Looks like you’re buying dinner, Felix.”
Felix groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah.”
As they walked out of the training room, Felix threw one last glance at the destruction they’d left behind. “We really gotta stop breaking stuff. At this rate, we’ll be sparring in a parking lot.”
DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Haunted by Dreams Arc - Chapter 10 (Conclusion of Arc)
Location: Vivian's Mansion, Snowfield
Date: January 7th
Time: 3:28am
As dawn approached, the group found themselves back at Vivian’s mansion. Inside, the group gathered in the parlor, Dr. Wakefield—now a broken, defeated man—sat slumped in a chair, his head hanging low.
Trish, her mission complete, was getting ready for her departure. She had already packed up her gear and was now standing near the door, looking back at the group. Her gaze lingered on V, who was leaning on his cane, still pale and exhausted from the ordeal.
“You’re going to stick around with Nero and the others?” Trish asked.
V nodded. “For now. There’s still much to be done, there is still the matter of the other five deadly sins.”
Trish studied him for a moment, then offered a faint smile. “You know, you’re now your own person, right?”
V chuckled softly, a rare sound. “Whatever that means.”
Trish’s expression grew more serious as she glanced back at the unconscious Dr. Wakefield. “And what about him?”
Nero, who had been listening from across the room, shrugged. “We’ll turn him over to the authorities. They’ll have a field day with him once they realize who he really is—or was.”
Felix grinned. “Or we could just kill him.”
Corky, who was seated next to Dr. Wakefield, gave him a sidelong glance. “Prison should be fine.”
Vivian, who had been standing quietly by the fireplace, finally spoke up. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Thank you… all of you. For everything you’ve done. I don’t know what would’ve happened to Snowfield if you hadn’t intervened.”
Nero turned to her, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s what we do.”
Felix then cleared his throat, “And speaking of which…”
“Subtle,” Corky muttered with the roll of her eyes.
“Hey, we don’t do this work for free.”
Vivian caught the hint and nodded, moving over to a small desk in the corner of the room. She retrieved a thick envelope and handed it to Nero. “Your payment, as agreed. It’s the least I can do.”
Nero accepted the envelope with a nod. “Thanks. We’ll put it to good use.”
Vivian lingered for a moment, then looked around at the group. “You’ve done more than just save this town. You’ve given us hope again. It’s… it’s been a long time since I felt that.”
As the group prepared to leave, there was still one matter left to address. Mouse, the giant sloth demon who had surprisingly sided with them during the final battle, was sitting quietly in the corner of the room, his massive form somehow managing to look harmless. He had been docile since the fight ended, but now the question remained—what to do with him?
Corky looked at Mouse with a raised eyebrow. “So… what’s the plan here? We can’t exactly take him with us.”
Nero scratched his head, clearly at a loss.
Felix smirked. “We could leave him here. What do you think, Viv? Need someone to help with the heavy lifting?”
Vivian looked at Mouse a little warily. “I… I’m not sure… I… suppose he could stay. If he wants to.”
Mouse, understanding the offer, gave a slow, almost sleepy nod. He didn’t seem to mind the idea of sticking around, and the mansion would certainly be a comfortable place for a demon of sloth to reside.
Felix grinned, giving Mouse a thumbs-up. “There you go, big guy. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new gig.”
As the group began to make their way out of the mansion, Nico hung back, “Hey, y’all go on ahead I’ll be right there.”
"Seriously?" Nero said, raising an eyebrow as he noticed Nico lingering behind. Corky, sensing the moment, rolled her eyes with a grin and grabbed Nero by the arm, pulling him toward the door.
With the rest of the group making their way outside, Nico turned back to Mouse, who was in the middle of fluffing a pillow—though he was doing it at a pace that would make molasses seem quick.
“Hey, big guy,” Nico started, her tone unusually soft. “Guess this is goodbye, huh?”
Mouse looked at her with his usual slow blink, his massive hands still cradling the pillow. He didn’t say anything—he barely did—but there was something almost affectionate in the way he stared at her, like a loyal dog waiting for its owner to return.
Nico chuckled, scratching the back of her neck. “You know, I never thought I’d miss a giant sloth demon, but here we are. You’re not so bad for a big lump, you know that?”
Mouse blinked again, his head tilting slightly as if he were processing her words. Then, in the slowest movement imaginable, he raised one of his enormous hands and patted Nico on the head—very gently, of course. For a moment, Nico was taken aback, her eyes widening in surprise, but then she laughed.
“You take care of yourself, alright? And Vivian too. She’s gonna need all the help she can get with this place,” Nico said, her voice a bit more serious now.
Mouse gave another slow blink, his version of a nod, before returning to his task of fluffing the pillow. It was clear he didn’t really grasp the gravity of the situation, but that didn’t matter. Nico knew he’d be just fine.
With one last pat on Mouse’s massive arm, Nico turned and headed for the door, a small smile still on her face. As she stepped outside, the early morning chill hit her, and she found Nero waiting by the van, leaning casually against the door with a smirk on his face.
“You gonna cry?” Nero teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “It’s okay to cry, Nico. Dogs cry, cats cry-”
Nico shot him a glare, though there was no real heat behind it. “I ain’t gonna cry, you jerk.”
Nero chuckled, but his attention shifted as Nico turned toward Trish, who was standing by the mansion’s grand entrance, adjusting her coat as she prepared to head out on her own. Nico called out, “Hey, Trish, you sure you don’t want to ride back with us? Plenty of room in the van.”
“We’ll even let you take charge of the radio,” Corky added as she called out from the window of the van.
“I’ve got some business to take care of. I’m not heading back to Red Grave just yet,” Trish said.
Nero nodded, understanding. “What kind of business?”
Trish waved off the question with a casual flick of her wrist. “Just some loose ends to tie up. Nothing you need to worry about.”
With that, Trish walked down the steps, her silhouette disappearing into the morning fog. The sound of her footsteps faded away, leaving a lingering sense of mystery in her wake.
Nero watched her go, but he turned his attention back to V, who was leaning against the van, looking as calm and collected as ever. “Looks like you’re stuck with us now, V.”
V gave a faint smile, his expression thoughtful. “It seems that way, at least for now.”
Corky, curious as always, tilted her head. “So… are you sticking around for good? Or is this just a temporary thing?”
V hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment before he answered. “I’m not sure. I feel… fine, for now. But whatever brought me back, whatever magic is at work here, it’s beyond my understanding.”
Griffon, perched on V’s shoulder, ruffled his feathers and let out a squawk. “Yeah, this whole situation’s a real head-scratcher. But you know what? I’m not gonna think too hard about it. As long as we’re still kickin’ and takin’ names, that’s good enough for me.”
The van rumbled down the road, leaving the eerie mansion and Snowfield behind.
Location: Vie de Marli
Date: January 7th
Time: 4:58am
The first rays of dawn filtered through the thick canopy of trees that blanketed the island of Vie de Marli.
Lucia had always been an early riser, a habit ingrained in her by years of training as a member of the Protectors clan. She slipped out of her bed, her bare feet touching the cool wooden floor.
She dressed quickly, donning her traditional Protectors attire.
Stepping outside, Lucia took a deep breath, the cool morning air filling her lungs. The island was as beautiful as ever, its lush greenery and sparkling waters a constant reminder of why she had dedicated her life to protecting it. But even as she admired the familiar landscape, her thoughts drifted back to Dante.
She had always been fiercely independent, but there was something about Dante that had stirred feelings in her she wasn’t used to—feelings that had only grown stronger since he had left. She couldn’t help but wonder where he was now, what he was doing, and if he ever thought of her the way she thought of him.
Far from the village, hidden within the dense jungle that bordered the shoreline, a group of menacing figures moved silently through the shadows
At the center of this group stood their leader, a tall, imposing figure with a sharp, angular face and piercing eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire. His long, red hair was streaked with gray, tied back in a loose ponytail that hung down his back, and his weathered skin bore the marks of countless battles.
One of his men, a burly demon disguised as a human, stepped up beside him, his voice rough and gravelly. “The island seems quiet, my lord Belial. No signs of resistance so far. The Protectors don’t seem to suspect a thing.”
Belial smirked, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Good. Let them stay ignorant for a while longer. We’ll strike when they least expect it. And I told you to address me as Calum Mackie,” he commanded, his Scottish accent thick.
The demon grunted in approval, his brutish features twisting into a wicked grin. “Aye, and when we do, they’ll burn. This place will be a heap of ashes before they even realize what’s happened.”
Belial’s smile faded slightly as he turned his gaze back to the island. “This island has resisted many threats over the centuries. But they’ve never faced someone like me. The Protectors are strong, but their strength comes from their unity, their belief in their duty. If we shatter that… if we turn them against each other… they’ll fall like dominos.”
As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light over the island, the peaceful calm that had settled over Vie de Marli was only a prelude to the force of wrath that was to come.
End of Haunted by Dreams Arc
DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Haunted by Dreams Arc - Chapter 9
Location: Eternal Rest Asylum, Snowfield
Date: January 7th
Time: 1:30am
The two parties finally regrouped deep within the twisted confines of the Eternal Rest Asylum, just outside a massive, ominous door.
V tapped his cane softly against the cold stone floor as he explained, "Beyond this door lies Belphegor's Abyss—a realm where the souls of the slothful are trapped in eternal stagnation.”
Nero raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Abyss? Sounds like just another hellhole to me. What’s the catch?”
Corky, recalling their previous encounters, chimed in, “Is it like Mammon’s Vault? You know, where greedy souls are trapped?”
V nodded, his gaze distant as he considered the comparison. “Similar, yes. Where Mammon’s Vault feeds on greed, the Abyss feeds on sloth, draining its victims of willpower until they are nothing but empty husks. To reach Belphegor, we must navigate through the Abyss—using a series of portals. If we fail to solve the puzzle, we will fall into the Abyss and be lost forever.”
Felix, always quick with a quip, let out a low whistle. “So, no pressure then. Just your average ‘solve it or die’ scenario.”
Trish stepped forward. “I’ll take point—everyone follow my lead.”
With Trish in the lead, they pushed open the massive door, revealing the Abyss beyond. The chamber was vast, seemingly endless, with swirling dark clouds and jagged rock formations suspended in mid-air. In the center of the chamber was a complex array of glowing portals, each one pulsating with a different color of light. The entire setup looked like a nightmarish labyrinth, and it was clear that one wrong move could send them plummeting into the void below.
As they approached the first portal, Trish paused, studying the glowing symbols that hovered above each one. “These portals are connected somehow… We need to figure out the right sequence to get across. If we choose wrong, it could spell disaster.”
Corky stepped up to one of the portals, studying the symbols closely. “Looks like each portal leads to another across the Abyss. But the symbols are different… They might be clues to the sequence.”
Trish, still at the forefront, looked back at the group. “Alright, let’s start with the first portal. Felix, you go through first. If it’s safe, signal the rest of us.”
“Why am I the sacrifice?” Felix muttered under his breath.
He stepped through the first portal, disappearing in a flash of light. There was a tense moment of silence before his voice echoed back through the chamber. “All clear! Portal leads to a solid platform!”
Nero, Corky, and V quickly followed, each one emerging on the other side where Felix stood on a floating platform suspended above the Abyss. As they regrouped, Trish appeared last, her gaze already scanning for the next portal.
As they moved toward the next set of portals, they were making great progress.
However, at one point, Nero nearly stepped into the wrong portal, only to be yanked back by Trish at the last second. “Careful, Nero. That one would have sent you straight into the Abyss.”
Nero, slightly embarrassed, muttered, “Yeah, yeah, I got it. No need to babysit.”
Felix couldn’t resist chiming in. “Guess you’re not as good at puzzles as you are at smashing things, huh?”
Nero shot Felix a glare, but before he could respond, Trish, focused on the task at hand, stepped toward the next portal. Without hesitation, she moved to enter it—but something caught V’s eye, and his calm expression shifted to one of alarm.
“Trish, wait!” V’s voice was urgent, and in a swift motion, he lunged forward, pushing Trish out of the way just as her foot crossed the threshold of the portal. The moment his hand made contact, a dark energy rippled through the air, and in an instant, V was pulled into the portal, his form disappearing in a flash of light.
Trish, having been thrown off balance, stumbled backward, but her reflexes kicked in, and she caught herself just in time. However, as she regained her footing, the portal’s energy surged, closing off the path behind her and severing the connection between her and the rest of the group.
Corky’s eyes widened in alarm as she saw the portal flicker and then vanish, leaving nothing but empty space where V and Trish had been. “Trish! V!” she called out, her voice echoing across the chasm.
There was a tense, heart-stopping moment of silence before Trish’s voice echoed back from somewhere across the void. “We’re okay! V’s with me! You three need to keep moving—don’t stop. We’ll catch up!”
“You sure you’ll be alright?” Nero asked.
Trish’s voice came through again, slightly softer but still firm. “We’ll manage. Just make sure you take down Belphegor. That’s the priority.”
Felix, despite the situation, couldn’t help but crack a small grin. “You heard the lady. We’ve got a demon lord to smash.”
Corky, still a bit shaken, nodded, trying to regain her composure. “Be careful, Trish. You too, V.”
There was a brief pause, then V’s voice, calm and steady as always, came through the void. “We will. Now go—before the Abyss decides to shift again.”
With that, the connection between them seemed to fade, leaving Nero, Felix, and Corky standing on the edge of the platform, the vast emptiness of the Abyss stretching out before them.
~~~
V and Trish found themselves on a remote platform, suspended in the swirling darkness of the Abyss.
Trish sighed, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings with a furrowed brow. “Well, this is just perfect.”
“The Abyss is designed to disorient. We must find a way to rejoin the others without falling into its traps.”
Trish folded her arms, glancing sideways at V. There was an air of awkwardness between them. She cleared her throat, deciding to break the silence. “So, V… got any brilliant ideas on how to get out of this mess?”
The portals in the Abyss are connected in a network. If we can determine the correct sequence, we should be able to navigate our way back to the others.”
Trish nodded, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. “You seem to know a lot about this place. Almost like you’ve been here before.”
V hesitated for a moment, then spoke, his voice quieter. “I’ve read about it, in fragments and old texts. But no, I’ve never been here myself.”
There was a pause as Trish considered his words. “You know, I can’t help but wonder… how are you even here? I thought you were supposed to be… well, part of Vergil again. How are you separate from him?”
V turned his gaze to her, his expression as inscrutable as ever. “I don’t know. When Vergil and I became one again, I ceased to exist—at least, that’s what should have happened. But I’m here now, and if I were to guess, I’d say it’s because of Nero.”
Trish raised an eyebrow. “Nero? How does that work?”
V shook his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips. “I wish I could give you a clear answer. Perhaps it’s Nero’s memory of me, or perhaps it’s something else entirely. All I know is that I’m here, and as long as I am, I’ll do what I can to help.”
Trish stared at him for a moment, her expression softened by a touch of sympathy. “It must be strange for you, being back like this… and yet, not really being ‘you.’”
V’s gaze turned distant, as if he were contemplating something far beyond their current predicament. “Strange doesn’t begin to describe it. But I’ve come to accept that there are things I may never fully understand.”
Trish nodded slowly, her own thoughts turning inward. “And Vergil? Do you still feel connected to him?”
V’s voice was quiet, almost introspective. “In a way, yes. We are one and the same, and yet… there is a part of me that remains apart. It’s difficult to explain.”
Trish’s expression softened further, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I get it.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the swirling mists of the Abyss a constant reminder of the dangers they still faced.
Trish took a deep breath, refocusing on the task at hand. “Alright, enough introspection. We’ve got a job to do. Let’s figure out these portals and get back to the others.”
As they began to study the symbols and patterns that adorned the portals around them, Trish couldn’t help but ask one last question. “So, where are Dante and Vergil now? Any idea?”
V hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “They’re in the Underworld, continuing their eternal battle. It’s where they need to be… for now.”
~~~
Meanwhile, on Nero, Felix, and Corky's side, the trio found themselves standing before yet another set of intricate portals, each one glowing with an ominous light. The platform they were on was precariously small, and the swirling void of the Abyss below was anything but comforting.
Nero was frowning at the puzzle before them. “Alright, so if we go through that one,” he pointed to a blue portal, “it should lead us to the next platform, right?”
Felix, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, was clearly not convinced. “Yeah, unless it sends us straight into the Abyss. Didn’t you learn anything from the last portal? This place is messing with us.”
Nero glared at Felix. “Hey, I’m just trying to get us through this.”
Felix smirked, not backing down. “Oh, so you’re the puzzle master now? Pretty sure you almost got us killed twice already.”
“Yeah? And what have you done?” Nero shot back. “Just stand around with your thumb up your ass.”
Felix’s grin widened. “Well, someone’s gotta keep the morale up, and clearly, you’re not doing a great job.”
Corky, who had been standing off to the side watching the two bicker, let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You know, for two guys who are supposed to be badass demon hunters, you sure argue like a couple of toddlers.”
The boys stopped mid-argument, both turning to look at her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nero asked, clearly annoyed.
Corky rolled her eyes. “It means this is getting old. We’ve been stuck on this puzzle for what feels like forever, and you two are just making it worse by arguing.”
Felix shrugged. “Well, if you’ve got a better idea, we’re all ears.”
Corky huffed, then walked over to the portal Nero had pointed out earlier. She studied the symbols for a moment, then looked over at another portal glowing with a green light. “These symbols... They’re like a riddle, right? They’re connected by meaning, not just by direction.”
Nero and Felix exchanged a glance, clearly confused but intrigued.
“So...?” Nero asked, still not following.
Corky didn’t bother explaining further. Instead, she pulled out a piece of candy from her pocket—a bright, neon-colored lollipop—and popped it into her mouth. She walked up to the blue portal, gave it a thoughtful look, then turned and walked over to the green one. “This is the one we need.”
Felix blinked. “How did you come to that conclusion? Eenie-meenie-minie-moe?”
Corky grinned, the candy stick hanging out of her mouth as she shrugged. “It’s my intuition.”
Nero shook his head, clearly skeptical. “Intuition she says… And if you’re wrong?”
Corky took the lollipop out of her mouth, giving it a casual wave. “I’ll go first.”
Felix laughed. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
Corky rolled her eyes again. “Trust me, alright?”
With no better options, Nero sighed and gestured for Corky to go ahead. “Fine, just… don’t die, alright.”
Corky smirked and, without any hesitation, stepped through the green portal. There was a brief flash of light, and then she was gone.
The boys exchanged another look, then followed suit. The moment they stepped through, they found themselves on a new platform, much larger than the previous one. At the far end of the platform was another portal, this one glowing with a bright, welcoming light.
Felix looked around, a bit surprised that Corky’s seemingly random choice had actually worked. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Corky, already standing near the new portal, grinned. “Told you. Sometimes, you just gotta go with your gut.”
~~~
V and Trish moved cautiously through the swirling mists of the Abyss, their steps echoing on the narrow platforms as they pieced together the puzzle of their surroundings.
“It’s not in the real world,” Trish muttered, her eyes narrowing as they approached a massive, ornate door that loomed ahead of them. “Of course. Why would a demon lord like Belphegor operate in the physical plane when he can command his dominion from within the Abyss?”
V nodded, his expression contemplative. “Indeed. The Throne Room is not just a physical place—it’s a manifestation of Belphegor’s power, a realm within the Abyss itself. That’s why the asylum was only a gateway, a means to lure us here.”
Trish sighed, a mixture of frustration and resolve in her voice. “So much for keeping things simple. But at least now we know where we’re headed.”
As they reached the door, it swung open of its own accord, revealing a vast chamber that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. The walls were adorned with grotesque sculptures of slothful souls, frozen in states of despair and lethargy. At the far end of the chamber, seated upon a massive, intricately carved throne, was Belphegor.
The demon lord was an imposing figure, his massive, corpulent form draped in dark, tattered robes. His face was a grotesque mask of apathy, his eyes half-lidded as if he were on the verge of falling asleep. Around him, the very air seemed to vibrate with a sense of inertia, as if time itself had slowed to a crawl in his presence.
Belphegor’s voice, deep and sluggish, reverberated through the chamber as he regarded them with disinterest. “So, you’ve finally made it here.”
Trish raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be intimidated or just bored.”
Belphegor’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Mockery… how tedious.”
V, ever composed, took a step forward, his cane tapping lightly against the ground. “Your reign is built on the suffering of others, Belphegor. But sloth cannot stand against willpower. You’ve made a grave mistake by luring us here.”
Belphegor let out a deep, rumbling chuckle that sounded more like a yawn. “Grave mistake? How dramatic. You underestimate the power of sloth, human. I have no need to fight you—time will do that for me. All I need to do is wait, and eventually, your strength will wither away, just like the countless souls who now serve me.”
Trish snorted, her confidence undeterred. “You’re not the first demon lord to underestimate us. And you won’t be the last.”
Belphegor’s eyes flicked to Trish, his voice dripping with condescension. “Ah, Trish. Born from a lie, destined to serve. You’re as much a pawn as the others.”
Trish’s expression hardened, but she kept her cool. “You’ve got it wrong, Belphegor. I’m no pawn—and I’m definitely not here to serve you.”
Belphegor’s massive form shifted slightly on the throne, his apathy momentarily giving way to a flicker of malevolence. “think you can defeat me? The embodiment of sloth, the force that binds all things in stagnation?”
Trish cracked her knuckles, a smirk forming on her lips. “Well, we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”
Before Belphegor could respond, Trish launched herself forward, her twin pistols blazing as she unleashed a hail of bullets at the demon lord. The bullets struck Belphegor’s form, but they seemed to sink into his flesh as if being swallowed by an endless void. The demon barely flinched, his eyes narrowing further in disdain.
V moved in tandem, summoning Griffon and Shadow to his side. Griffon cawed loudly, his feathers crackling with electricity as he swooped down to strike at Belphegor, while Shadow slashed at the demon’s feet with razor-sharp claws. But the attacks seemed to have little effect, as Belphegor’s aura of sloth absorbed the energy, dissipating it into nothingness.
Belphegor let out another rumbling chuckle, his voice heavy with mockery. “Feeble… so feeble. You cannot fight what you cannot see—the weight of time, the inevitability of decay. It is the nature of all things to succumb to sloth.”
Trish growled, her frustration growing as she continued to fire. “This guy’s like a damn sponge! Nothing’s getting through!”
V, his mind racing, quickly assessed the situation. “He’s drawing power from the Abyss itself. We need to disrupt the flow of energy to weaken him.”
~~~
Nero, Felix, and Corky finally stumbled out of the Abyss, the swirling mists giving way to the cold, dark reality of the Eternal Rest Asylum. They found themselves in what should have been Belphegor’s throne room. But something was wrong. The room was empty. No sign of Belphegor, no sign of the demon lord they had been hunting.
Felix glanced around, confusion etched on his face. “Uh, did we miss something? This is supposed to be where the big guy hangs out, right?”
Corky frowned, her eyes scanning the room. “Yeah, this is definitely the place. But where the hell is he?”
Nero’s gaze was drawn to the far end of the room, where a massive, ominous Hell Gate loomed, pulsating with dark energy. It was similar to the one he had encountered in Limbo City, back when they had taken down Mammon. The memories of that battle flashed through his mind, and without a second thought, he stepped forward.
“This isn’t over yet,” Nero muttered as he approached the Hell Gate. “If Belphegor’s not here, then he’s probably pulling the strings from the other side. I’m gonna close this damn thing.”
Felix and Corky exchanged a glance, then moved to flank Nero as he reached out toward the Hell Gate.
Nero took a deep breath, focusing all his strength as he placed his hand on the Hell Gate, trying to summon the power that had closed the portal in Limbo City. The air around him crackled with energy as he poured everything he had into sealing the gate.
But nothing happened.
Nero gritted his teeth, pushing harder, but the Hell Gate remained open, its dark energy swirling around him like a vortex. “Come on… close, damn it!”
Felix, sensing the strain in Nero’s voice, stepped forward, his usual bravado replaced with genuine concern. “What’s going on, man? Why isn’t it working?”
Corky, equally worried, moved to Nero’s side. “Nero, you’ve done this before—what’s different now?”
Nero’s face twisted in frustration as he tried again, but the power simply wasn’t there. It was like trying to move a mountain with his bare hands. “I don’t know… I just can’t… it’s like I’m not strong enough!”
Felix raised an eyebrow, unable to resist a snarky comment despite the tension. “Not strong enough? Come on, Nero. What gives?”
Nero shot him a glare, but it was more out of frustration than anger. “This thing… it’s different. It’s like it’s feeding off something else. I can’t close it.”
Corky, trying to make sense of the situation, glanced at the Hell Gate, her mind racing. “Maybe it’s connected to something in the Abyss? If Belphegor’s drawing power from there, then maybe we can’t close this thing until we cut him off completely.”
Felix rubbed his chin, considering her words. “So what you’re saying is… we’re stuck until we take care of the big guy? That’s just great.”
~~~
Back in the Abyss, things were looking bleak. Trish, her body aching and battered, struggled to push herself up from the cold, unforgiving ground. The battle against Belphegor had taken a toll on her, and she could barely muster the strength to stand. Through her blurred vision, she caught sight of V, lying half-conscious a few feet away, his cane knocked from his grasp. Belphegor, his massive form now even more grotesque and powerful, slinked toward V, his malevolent gaze fixed on the weakened poet.
“You thought you could defy me?” Belphegor’s voice oozed with disdain as he loomed over V, a twisted grin spreading across his face. “You are nothing—a mere shadow of what you once were. And now, you will be nothing at all.”
Trish’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to push herself up, her body screaming in protest. “V… get up… we’re not done yet,” she muttered through gritted teeth, but her voice barely reached him.
Belphegor raised one massive, clawed hand, ready to deliver the final blow to V. Trish knew she had to do something—anything—to stop it. But her limbs felt like lead, her vision swimming as she struggled against the exhaustion threatening to pull her under.
~~~
Meanwhile, back in the throne room, Nero, Felix, and Corky were still grappling with the Hell Gate.
“This is pointless,” Nero muttered, slamming his fist against the stone wall in frustration. “If I can’t close this gate, then what good am I?”
Corky, who had been quietly observing the situation, suddenly perked up, an idea forming in her mind. “Wait a minute… Maybe it’s not that you can’t close it, Nero. Maybe you just don’t have enough power. Yet.”
Felix raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still a bit confused. “What are you getting at, Corky?”
Corky pointed at Felix, a glint of realization in her eyes. “Felix, remember when we took down Mammon? You absorbed his power afterward, right?”
Felix nodded slowly, the gears in his mind starting to turn. “Yeah… but what’s that got to do with this?”
Corky’s grin widened, her excitement growing. “Maybe that’s the missing piece! Belphegor’s still got power, and the gate’s feeding off of it. But if Felix gives you some of that power he absorbed from Mammon, it might be enough to close the gate!”
Nero blinked, processing the idea. “You think that’ll work? I mean… I’ve never exactly done a power transfer before.”
Felix, ever the showman, smirked as he flexed his hands, flames briefly flickering around his fingers. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
Nero hesitated, the idea of sharing power with Felix making him uneasy. But with the Hell Gate looming behind him and time running out, he didn’t have much choice. “Alright, let’s do it. But no funny business, Felix.”
Felix grinned wider, clearly enjoying the moment. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Nero. Just don’t go blowing us all up in the process.”
Nero braced himself as Felix placed his hands on his shoulders. There was a brief pause, and then Felix closed his eyes, concentrating. The air around them began to hum with energy, a faint glow surrounding Felix as he channeled the power he had absorbed from Mammon.
For a moment, nothing happened. But then, slowly, Nero felt a surge of energy flowing into him—a warmth that spread through his body, making his heart race and his muscles tense. It wasn’t like anything he had felt before, a strange mix of Felix’s raw power and something darker, something born of the greed and corruption that Mammon had embodied.
Nero’s eyes widened as the energy coursed through him, his hands clenching into fists as the power built inside him. It was almost overwhelming, like trying to contain a storm within his own body. But as the power settled, he realized that Corky’s plan might just work.
“Alright… I think I’ve got it,” Nero said, his voice tinged with surprise and awe at the new power surging through him.
Felix stepped back, looking a bit winded but still grinning. “Told you. Now, let’s see if you can close that damn gate.”
Nero turned back to the Hell Gate, the dark energy pulsing more intensely now. He reached out, placing his hands on the gate once more. This time, the power inside him responded, flowing into the gate with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet.
The Hell Gate shuddered, the dark energy swirling around it beginning to crack and fracture as Nero poured everything he had into closing it.
~~~
Meanwhile, in the Abyss, things had reached a critical point. V, weakened and barely conscious, lay helpless on the ground as Belphegor, now fully in his monstrous form, loomed over him, ready to deliver the killing blow. Trish, bloodied, struggled to her feet, her eyes locking onto the demon lord with a mix of fury and desperation.
"You're not taking him," Trish growled, forcing herself forward. With one final, desperate burst of energy, she lunged at Belphegor, her pistols firing point-blank into his grotesque form. The bullets, charged with the last of her strength, struck true, ripping through the demon's core.
Belphegor let out a horrific scream, his monstrous form convulsing as the bullets tore through him. For a moment, it seemed like he might shrug off the damage, but then his body began to shrink, contorting and morphing. His roar of fury turned into a gasp of pain as he was forced back into his human vessel—the form of Dr. Elias Wakefield, the renowned psychologist and sleep therapist who had once helped so many, now revealed as the demon lord of sloth.
Trish staggered back, breathing heavily, as she watched the transformation. Dr. Wakefield’s human form was weak, trembling as he looked around in confusion, the power that had sustained him for so long cut off by the closing of the Hell Gate.
In that moment, the Abyss began to unravel entirely, the twisted, nightmarish landscape dissolving into nothingness. The realm lifted, leaving only the familiar, ruined chamber where Nero, Felix, and Corky were waiting.
Nero, still catching his breath, looked around in surprise as the walls of the room shifted, the swirling darkness of the Abyss fading away to reveal the familiar, cold stone of the asylum. “What the hell…?”
Corky, ever quick on the uptake, smirked as she spotted Trish and V standing across the room. “Looks like we’re all back in the same place. Nice work, Trish.”
Felix, noticing the weakened Dr. Wakefield at Trish’s feet, raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s the guy who’s been causing all this trouble? Doesn’t look like much now.”
Trish, still catching her breath, gave a weary grin. “He was more of a problem when he was in his demon form. But yeah, this is him—what’s left of him, anyway.”
V, leaning on his cane for support, nodded weakly. “The Hell Gate… it’s closed. He’s cut off from the Abyss, from his power. There’s nothing left for him now.”
Nero walked over, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at Dr. Wakefield. The once-imposing figure of Belphegor was now reduced to a frail, trembling man, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “You think you’re so clever, huh?” Nero muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “All this… just to feed off people’s misery.”
Dr. Wakefield, now fully aware of his situation, tried to speak, his voice weak and trembling. “You… you don’t understand… I was helping them… I was bringing them peace…”
Felix scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sure. ‘Peace’ through eternal sleep? Sounds more like you were just taking the easy way out—same as everyone else who falls for your crap.”
Corky stepped forward, her expression more serious than usual. “You’re done, Wakefield. The Hell Gate’s closed, and there’s no more power for you to draw from. It’s over.”
Trish, still keeping her pistols trained on him, nodded. “And now, you’re going to answer for everything you’ve done. No more hiding behind your demon form.”
Wakefield slumped to the ground, the last of his strength fading as the reality of his defeat sank in. The power he had wielded for so long was gone, and with it, any hope he had of escaping justice.
Felix, always one for a snide remark, glanced at Nero with a grin. “So, you wanna do the honors, or should we just toss him out with the rest of the trash?”
Nero rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smirk on his lips. “I think he’s already been taken out. Let’s just make sure he stays that way.”
DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Haunted by Dreams Arc - Chapter 8
Location: Vivian's Mansion, Snowfield
Date: January 6th
Time: 11:48pm
Vivian’s eyes widened as the group filed in, her gaze moving from the familiar faces of Nero, Felix, Corky, and Nico to the newcomers—V and Trish. But it was Mouse, the giant sloth demon, who really caught her attention. He was trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to squeeze through the mansion’s door, his massive bulk filling the entrance as he let out a low, rumbling yawn.
“Good heavens!” Vivian exclaimed, her teacup clattering in its saucer. “What on earth have you dragged into my home?”
Nico grinned, patting Mouse on the arm as he finally managed to squeeze inside, looking around the room with a dopey smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Vivian! This here’s Mouse. He’s, uh… well, he’s friendly. Mostly. And he’s on our side.”
Vivian blinked, clearly at a loss for words as she stared at the towering demon. “I… see. And the… bird?”
Her gaze had shifted to Griffon, who was perched on V’s shoulder, preening his feathers with an air of indifference. Shadow slinked around the room, sniffing at the corners and occasionally letting out a low growl.
Trish stepped forward with a charming smile. “Miss Vivian, I apologize for the, uh, unconventional guests, but I assure you, they’re here to help. We’re all on the same side, and right now, we need to focus on the task at hand—taking down Belphegor.”
Vivian finally managed to find her voice, though it was a bit shaky. “Yes, of course.”
Nero, still rubbing his sore cheek from Nico’s earlier slaps, stepped forward. “We’ve got a lead on where he’s holed up—the Eternal Rest Asylum. That’s where his domain resides.”
V, who had been silent up until now, added in, “I have reason to believe that we can find the Hell Gate to the Sloth Circle there as well. Nero will use his power to seal it.”
Felix, leaning casually against the wall, chimed in with his trademark smirk. “So, what’s the plan, boss? Kick down the front door, take out the goons, and go straight for the big guy?”
Corky rolled her eyes, though there was a grin on her face. “Yeah, because that always works out so well for us.”
Trish shook her head, her expression serious. “We’ll need to divide our forces and hit him from multiple angles if we’re going to stand a chance.”
Nero nodded in agreement. “Exactly. We’ll do what we did when had hit Silver Sacks Towers by splitting into two teams. V and I will take the main entrance—draw as much attention as we can. Trish, you’ll lead Felix and Corky in through a side entrance. While V and I keep them distracted, you three will find a way to disable whatever defenses Belphegor’s got set up and hit him where it hurts.”
Corky then asked, “And what about Mouse? You think he’s going to be able to handle all this?”
Nico, clearly excited at the prospect, grinned from ear to ear. “Are you kidding? Mouse here is gonna be our secret weapon. Belphegor’s not gonna know what hit him.”
Before anyone could respond, a low, rumbling voice echoed through the room. “I… can… help.”
Everyone froze, eyes wide as they turned to face the source. Mouse, the giant sloth demon who had, until now, only communicated in grunts and snores, was slowly moving his massive head, his large eyes blinking at them with a surprising amount of focus.
Nico’s jaw dropped. “Did he just…?”
“Oh right, I forgot the big guy can talk.”
Corky blinked a few times, processing the moment before breaking into a grin. “Looks like we’ve got more than just muscle on our side. Nice to have you on board, Mouse.”
Mouse nodded slowly, his movements deliberate and careful, as if speaking took a great deal of effort. “Belphegor… bad. Must… stop.”
V, who had been silent during the exchange, gave Mouse a nod of respect. “We will stop him, together.”
With Mouse’s unexpected contribution, the group’s spirits were bolstered, and they quickly began preparing for the final push.
As Trish was checking over her arsenal, loading her pistols and adjusting the straps on her boots, she caught V’s gaze from across the room. He was watching her intently, but the moment their eyes met, V quickly looked away. Trish grimaced to herself.
Vivian, noticing the brief exchange, approached Trish with a gentle curiosity.
You’re not like the others, are you? There’s something… different about you.”
Trish hesitated for a moment, then decided to be frank. “I’m a demon, Vivian. Does that bother you?”
Vivian considered this, her expression thoughtful rather than fearful. “I’ve seen many things in my time, dear. And in my experience, it’s not what you are that matters, but what you do. No human has helped me the way you all have. I’m grateful, no matter what you are.”
Trish was taken aback by Vivian’s calm acceptance, and for a moment, she found herself genuinely touched.
Vivian’s gaze drifted to where V was conversing with Nico and Corky. “He reminds me of my son, you know. The scholarly type. We’ve lost touch many years ago… he lives all the way in Regalton now. I’ve always wondered how he wound up.” She then gently turned to Trish, “Whatever it is it is better to talk it over, or else you might never see him again.”
Trish, understanding the implication, quickly shook her head. “V’s not my son, Vivian. We’re not related.”
Vivian blinked in surprise. “Oh? I must say, the resemblance is quite uncanny.”
Before the conversation could go any deeper, Nero’s voice cut through the room, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone! Time to move out. Is everybody ready?”
Felix gave a thumbs-up, the flames of Eryx sparking to life around his fists. “Born ready, boss.”
Corky, hefting Gladius and Imbokodo, nodded with a grin. “Let’s go give Belphegor a reason to regret waking up.”
Nico adjusted her tool belt, giving Mouse a quick pat on the arm. “All set here. Big guy’s ready too.”
With that, the group filed out of the mansion, the cold night air biting at their faces as they made their way to the van. The time for preparation was over; now it was time for action.
Location: Eternal Rest Asylum, Snowfield
Date: January 7th
Time: 12:12am
The van pulled to a stop outside the Eternal Rest Asylum. The snow-covered ground crunched beneath their boots as Nero and V prepared to exit the vehicle, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin.
Nero turned to face the group, his usual cocky grin tempered by the seriousness of the situation. "Alright, everyone knows the plan. V and I go in first—create as much noise as we can, draw out the big guns. Meanwhile, Trish, Felix, and Corky, you guys sneak in from the side, take down any defenses, and hit Belphegor where it hurts."
Felix, who was leaning against the van with his arms crossed, nodded. “Got it. We’ll make sure to give the big guy a proper welcome once you’ve cleared the path. No slacking on the job, Nero.”
Nero smirked, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Felix. You just make sure you’re ready to jump in when we need you.”
There was a brief, charged silence between them, the kind that only comes before a big fight. But then, in a rare moment of genuine camaraderie, Felix extended his fist towards Nero. Nero, caught off guard for a split second, quickly mirrored the gesture, their fists bumping together with a soft thud.
“Let’s kick some ass,” Felix said, a grin tugging at his lips.
“Hell yeah,” Nero replied, his grin widening.
Corky, who was finishing up her final weapon checks, looked up and caught Nero’s eye. “You two stay safe, alright? And don’t do anything stupid.”
Nero chuckled, shrugging as he adjusted Red Queen on his back. “No promises.” He added a playful wink.
As Nero and V moved toward the entrance of the asylum, the van’s tires crunched on the snow as Nico took off, speeding away to circle around and drop off the others.
“Ready to make some noise?” Nero asked.
V looked at him, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips
Nero took a deep breath, his hand tightening around the hilt of Red Queen. “Let’s give Belphegor a wake-up call he won’t forget.”
With a powerful kick, Nero slammed open the asylum doors, the sound echoing through the empty halls like a gunshot. Inside, the darkness seemed to pulse with a life of its own, the air thick with the stench of decay and despair. But Nero didn’t hesitate—he charged forward, Red Queen blazing to life as he swung the blade through the first set of twisted, nightmarish creatures that lunged at them from the shadows.
V followed closely behind, his cane slicing through the air as Griffon and Shadow materialized at his side, ready to tear through any demons foolish enough to cross their path.
“This place is a damn maze,” Nero muttered, kicking open another door and stepping into the next room, V right behind him.
The room they entered was oddly pristine, especially compared to the decrepit state of the rest of the asylum. The walls were lined with elegant wallpaper, and the furniture was old but well-kept, like something out of a different era. And there, standing in the center of the room, was a demon unlike any they had encountered so far.
Dressed in an old-timey maid outfit complete with a frilly apron and a feather duster in hand, the demon looked out of place, to say the least. Its face was a porcelain mask with a painted on smile. “Oh, my dear guests!” the demon cooed, its voice dripping with an unsettling sweetness. “Would you care for some tea?”
Nero blinked. “Uh… what?”
The demon curtsied, holding out a tray that materialized in its clawed hand, complete with a delicate teapot and a pair of mismatched teacups. “A spot of tea to refresh you, my dear boys? It’s simply the most delightful blend, perfect for soothing the soul.”
V, ever the composed one, raised an eyebrow at the demon. “Tea, you say? How very… quaint.”
Nero, snapping out of his brief stupor, narrowed his eyes. He knew better than to trust anything in this place, especially a demon offering hospitality. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m more of a coffee guy.”
The demon’s smile faltered, the edges of its lips twitching as the polite facade began to crack. “Oh, but I insist. It would be such a shame if you didn’t—”
Nero didn’t let it finish. With a quick draw, he pulled out Blue Rose and fired a round straight into the demon’s face. The bullet tore through the porcelain-like skin, shattering the polite mask and revealing the snarling, monstrous visage beneath. The demon shrieked, the tray and teacups clattering to the floor as it clutched at its ruined face.
“Guess the tea’s gone cold,” Nero quipped, firing another round into the demon’s chest for good measure. The creature let out one last, pitiful wail before disintegrating into a cloud of ash, the frilly apron fluttering to the ground like a forgotten piece of theater.
V stepped forward, nudging the remains with the tip of his cane. “A poor attempt at deception. Belphegor’s minions are more concerned with theatrics than strategy, it seems.”
Nero chuckled, holstering Blue Rose as he surveyed the room. “Yeah, well, they picked the wrong hunters to mess with. Come on, we’ve got more rooms to clear. You think the next demon’s gonna offer us crumpets?”
V allowed himself a rare smirk. “If they do, I’ll let you handle the etiquette lessons.”
As Trish, Felix, and Corky made their way through the twisted corridors of the asylum, Felix couldn't resist shooting his shot with the beguiling demoness.
"So, Trish," Felix began, his voice dripping with his usual bravado as he dodged a particularly low-hanging cobweb. "You ever get tired of hanging out with broody types like V and Nero? I mean, you’ve got to miss having a little fun every now and then, right?"
Trish shot him a sideways glance, her expression a mix of bemusement and mild annoyance. “I don’t hang out with V or Nero for fun, Felix. We’re here to do a job. As for fun, it would not involve you.”
“Ouch.”
Corky, who had been silently scanning the hallway ahead with her weapons ready, rolled her eyes at Felix’s attempts at charm. “Felix, give it a rest. Trish is too grown for your half-baked pickup lines.”
Trish smirked at Corky’s defense.
Felix shrugged, unfazed. Then the floor beneath them began to rumble, cutting the banter short. The walls of the corridor seemed to ripple as if the very building was alive, and then, with a sudden, violent lurch, the ground split open in front of them.
The three of them jumped back as a massive, pulsating mound of flesh and stone erupted from the floor, blocking their path. The grotesque structure oozed a dark, viscous liquid, and embedded in its surface were countless human faces, their expressions frozen in agony. The mound let out a deep, resonating growl, the sound reverberating through the corridor like a thunderclap.
Felix grimaced, his bravado fading as he readied Eryx. “Well, that’s new. Any ideas?”
Trish, her demeanor shifting, stepped forward, twin pistols in hand. “Looks like Belphegor’s rolling out the red carpet. Let’s make sure we leave a mark.”
Corky nodded. “Right behind you. Let’s tear this thing apart.”
With a shared nod, they launched into action. Trish fired off a barrage of bullets, the rounds slamming into the fleshy mound and causing it to shudder. Felix followed up with a powerful punch, his gauntlets blazing as they connected with the creature’s surface, sending ripples of energy through its body. Corky moved with precision, slicing through the writhing tendrils that lashed out at them with Gladius, while Imbokodo came crashing down to crush any resistance.
The creature retaliated, spewing out a dark, acrid gas that filled the corridor, burning their lungs and clouding their vision.
As they fought, Trish couldn’t help but notice how well Corky held her own. Despite Felix’s incessant banter, Corky was focused, efficient, and fierce—a far cry from the awkwardness she sometimes displayed outside of combat.
“You’ve come a long way since I last saw you, Corky,” Trish commented between shots, her voice steady even in the heat of battle. “Not bad, kid.”
Corky, breathing heavily as she swung Imbokodo in a wide arc, glanced at Trish with a hint of pride in her eyes. “Thanks. Had no other choice but to get stronger.”
Felix, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned as he unleashed a fiery uppercut on the creature. “Yeah, and she had the best partner too.”
Corky rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “And the most annoying one.”
With a final, coordinated assault, they broke through the mound, the grotesque structure collapsing into a pool of dark ichor that quickly evaporated into the air.
Felix wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smirking as he looked at the others.
Almost there…
