Hi hi!! I’m Omni_Lei!! But you can call me omni! I’m just an occasional reblogger but I make the occasional post or two every now and then! I’m in multiple fandoms, like Devil May Cry or Record of Ragnarok! There’s plenty more but I can’t really remember them right now…mb-
Feel free to drop by and send an ask! It could be to say something random or to give ideas, since I’m apparently writing now! If anything, I’ll update on whether requests are open or not! (Only for self aware Dmc tho)
(Btw, anyone can still interact about anything else though! As long you’re respectful, of course)
English is not my first language so there might be grammar mistakes in my works, but I’ll do my best to avoid them! :,D
If you want to request something (like a specific scenario or oneshot w one or more characters), please say so straight up! And make sure to tell me if it’s a oneshot for a specific character (or characters. The max is two per oneshot) or if you want me to write a scenario and the characters you want! Like if it’s the entire cast or just a few characters like three or four! For example: “could you write a oneshot about…?” Or “can I request a scenario about…with…?”. Again, please be mindful and respectful while doing so!
For the moment, requests are now closed!! Please be patient for any requests or w.i.p’s!!
Masterlist for my Self Aware Dmc Au!!
Anyway, that’s all for now!! Hope y’all stay safe and happy browsing!! Bye byeeeee!! :D
Hey so like, fun fact but I’m taking this class about the History of Furniture and like one of the eras we studied was the Italian Renaissance and one of the furniture pieces we studied was-
The Dantesc or Dante chair! Which was named after the author of The Divine Comedy!
So like now I’m wondering since Dmc 4 was jam packed of maps and architecture from the renaissance and gothic like the castle in the mountain with all the snow and the fuckass frog, I’m like 100% certain -or rather hoping- they made a nod to that in the maps and the game’s interior design!
Like just imagine replaying the game and going through the castle with Nero or sum and being like
“Ohhh Dante chair!”
And they just wonder what you mean before you go on a rant with yourself about it. The character you chose for this run listening fondly as you yap about a chair like “Yes dear, you’re so smart” SHEIEHOXBSJKDJWBX
Also I’m working on the next part of the self aware Dmc series so stay tuned! I LOVE YALL!!
Hear me out tho— imagine the DMC cast getting petty asf if you let your friend play on your account. Like Dante refuses to combo, Vergil is for some reason missing, like i think it’d be so funny they balantly just decide to fight ASS
OH DEFINITELY!!
I think the most defiant would be Nero and Dante…and Lady and Nico imo. Nero bc he’s alr so fond of the darling that he doesn’t want or would allow any other player that isn’t them to control him. Hence he’d be super aggressive against making any combos.
Vergil would more or less be the same but it’s also a thing of trust and respect. Lady would definitely fuck up her weapons and timing on purpose as well while Nico would purposefully give the darling’s friend the wrong devil breakers for whatever mission they’re doing just for shits and giggles…and so they leave your acc alone
Aye don't mean to be weird just hope you're doing alright, I hope you still want to continue your self aware dmc stuff bc I love it.
Again hope you're doing well :)
HI HI!!
Don’t worry, you’re not being weird at all! In fact, the lil check up means a lot! Very appreciated! But yes, I will be continuing the dmc stuff! I’m just in a huge burn out rn due to stuff going on but when I start writing another draft for another oneshot, ya’ll will be the first to know!!
tws: CorpseBride!AU, (soft?) yandere, obsessive/possessive behaviour, AFAB!reader, gothic horror (I hope), age difference (early 20s reader and early 30s Varka), arranged marrige (Varka loves you but your parents push you to marry him),
(If you find some more, please let me know.)
As usual, thank you all, my dear sweethearts, for your support!
part 1 (you are here)- part 2 - part 3 - part 4 (WIP)....
NOT SUITED FOR MINORS. Not proofread. Author does not endorse or condone any of the actions depicted in real life. Also, English is not the author's first language, so there might be some mistakes.
Please remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption.
Inspired by Tim Burton's "Corpse Bride" and The Unequal Marriage, 1862. Vasili Pukirev.
Danny Elfman - The Finale
Kerry Muzzey - The Secret History
The air in Nod Krai was perpetually the color of old pewter, thick with the scent of wet coal and the quiet despair of old wealth gone to rot. You lived on the fringes of that decay, your family’s home nothing more than a few sagging timbers holding out against the damp. But even a crumbling house holds dreams, and your parents, starved for status, saw the solution in the bold, brash figure of Varka, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius of Mondstatdt.
He was a force of nature, truly. Too bright, too loud, too living for your small house on the outskirts of the Nasha Town. He moved like a storm front, all greatcoats and booming laughter, and when his heavy boots strode through your cramped parlor, they tracked in the sunlit confidence of a world you didn’t understand.
Varka’s eyes, when they found you, lit up with the unfiltered adoration of a young man, though he was older and vastly more powerful. He wasn't subtle; his devotion was transparent, way too generous, and directed with equal enthusiasm toward your thrilled parents. He charmed them effortlessly with tales of his great adventures and booming promises of security.
“My little fury!” he’d call out, his large, warm hand taking yours for a moment, the heat startling. “Be my wife and I swear, as Grand Master, you and your family will know only ease and comfort all your days.”
Ease. The word tasted like ash on your tongue. His presence robbed you of air, of voice. You were young, naive, and terrified by the sheer force of his dedication. Every booming compliment, every hearty laugh, every eager touch that lingered too long on your cheek or the small of your back felt less like affection and more like the heavy weight of an oath you hadn't taken yet. He loved the idea of you as a wife, as a symbol of domestic tranquility and beauty to contrast his battlefield life. He needed you with a desperate intensity that made your skin crawl.
You tried to argue, but your mother’s voice, sharp and thin as a razor, cut through your protests, no longer merely advising.
“Nonsense! The Grand Master, my dear! His manners are impeccable, his future secure, and he has been nothing but kind to our family. Think of it – a spacious house in the shining city of Mondstadt! You will be the wife of the Grand Master of the Knights! You will save us all from this terrible life! You will be happy, and you will agree to this gift!”
You swallowed the tears and the fear, and agreed.
The day of the wedding rehearsal arrived, cloaked in the town’s usual mist, but inside the small, shabby room your parents had rented, you were draped in the splendor of Varka’s gift: the wedding dress. It was heavy silk the color of pale moonlight, intricately embroidered, mocking the sorrow in your chest with its pristine beauty.
You stood before a dim, pitted looking mirror, the reflection showing a stranger swathed in opulence. The gown was magnificent, entirely overwhelming your small frame. Your face, usually pale, was ghostly white with terror beneath the perfect arrangement of your borrowed veil and flowers. The image was a portrait of a beautiful but doomed bride. You pressed your fists into the cold silk, a profound wave of nausea washing over you as the reality of your fate crystallized. You looked every part the bride, but your eyes, wide and luminous with unshed tears, screamed a frantic denial. You were a sacrifice beautifully packaged. A small sound escaped your throat, and you clamped your hands over your mouth to stifle the rising sobs, terrified that a single tear would ruin the expensive makeup and bring your mother rushing in.
The moment passed, but the image remained – a porcelain doll, terrified and ready for breaking.
You were led through the chill evening air to the church for a rehearsal, a cold stone structure where the air was stiff with incense and the judgmental silence of pastor.
Varka, however, was a blaze of color and sound even in his formal uniform.
He stood opposite you, magnificent and dominating, utterly transfixed. His bright blue eyes were fixed on your trembling figure. Grand Master seemed to drink you in, every fragile shiver only fueling his resolve. His yearning was palpable as it radiated from him like the sun and made your small space feel hot and inescapable. He was older, yes, but in this moment, he looked like a joyous, slightly wild boy about to receive the single object he’d always longed for.
He took his position, settling his greatcoat, and his baritone, when he spoke his half of the vows, was not merely loud, but a heartfelt declaration that vibrated with the certainty of destiny.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrow…” His voice filled the entire cathedral, a declaration that echoed off the cold rafters. Varka looked at you, utterly consumed, his gaze burning with a devotion so bright it felt predatory. In those moments, he wasn't just ready to marry you, on no. He was aching, absolutely convinced of your shared destiny, desperate to finally possess the gentleness he saw in you. He was ready to sweep you up into his massive life and never let you go.
Then it was your turn.
The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with your parents' hope and Varka's unyielding love. The words of the vow – to love, honor, and obey – were a lie coated in sorrow and dread, and they welded themselves shut in your throat. You could feel the tremor starting deep in your core, rising until your whole body was violently shaking beneath the heavy silk of the gown. Your fathers's furious, hopeful face blurred in the congregation, and the very air shimmered with the intense, expectant heat of Varka’s gaze.
You opened your mouth. You tried to force air past the knot of pure panic, but only a pathetic little gasp escaped.
“Speak up, girl!” Pastor hissed, his long shadow lengthening across the aisle, his voice a lash of judgment.
You tried again. The first word caught, cracking on a sob.
“With-“ But it dissolved into a frantic whimper. The ring felt like a lead weight in your palm. The pressure, the silence, the sheer magnitude of the commitment – it broke you.
“You are shaking...” Varka’s voice boomed, rich with a protective tenderness, the sound like thunder trying to soothe a sparrow. He took a heavy step forward, his immense presence filling the gap.
“My heart, there is no need for this rehearsal. This day is a formality. I see your fear, but I will erase it. Tomorrow, say only what you can bear to say. Say a simple 'yes' or speak the full vow – it doesn't matter. I will accept whatever leaves your lips.”
That was the moment you shattered. The sheer magnitude of his devotion, the crushing certainty in his boyish voice, and the way his strong hand was already reaching to secure you… It was too much.
The ring slipped from your shaking fingers and clattered onto the stone floor. It rolled toward the darkness under the pews. You lunged forward, heedless of the shocked silence of your parents and a blue-haired knight with the eyepatch. Your nimble hand darted and snatched the cold band just as it touched the shadows. Clutching it tightly, you didn't apologize. With a cry that was halfway a strangled scream, you turned and scrambled, not running, but flying, propelled by blind panic. The satin gown swayed, its rustle an insignificant sound against the magnificent roar of disbelief that tore from the Grand Master’s chest.
“Darling! Stop!” Varka’s command was less a threat and more a desperate cry of a man whose heart had been physically ripped out. It ricocheted from the vaulted ceiling with a broken sound, following you like an accusation. You didn't dare look back. You slammed against the heavy oak doors, bursting out of the suffocating, silent church and into the endless, foggy twilight of Nod Krai.
You didn’t remember crossing the bridge.
Your lungs burned with the cold air, thick with the damp rot of ancient forests, clawing at your frantic lungs. Your white shoes, useless against the mud, slipped on slick earth as you plunged blindly through the crooked trees. The chase was internal now and the sound of Varka’s distant roar faded behind the deafening rush of your own panicked heart. The dense wood abruptly surrendered to the desolate, overgrown ground of the oldest resting place: the cemetery.
The atmosphere of it was crushing. A heavy smell of wet stone and sweet decay clang to everything. You stumbled between the crooked, moss-furred tombstones and snapped iron fences, tears streaming down your face no longer just fear, but bitter rage. You hated the life your family had bartered away, hated the Grand Master’s suffocating confidence, and most of all, you hated your own pathetic weakness.
You collapsed at the base of a crumbling but tall monument adorned with an engraved lantern, and sobs rippled through your body until you were hollowed out. But even in that despair, the cruel reality surfaced: you had to return. Your family's ruin was tethered to this unwanted marriage. Their poverty was your inescapable burden. You had disgraced them, but you couldn't abandon them to destitution. You had to go back, had to face Varka, had to speak the vows and give up yourself in their names.
You had to conquer the words that had betrayed you. Thus, you opened your hand, revealing the unblinking circle of the silver wedding band clutched tight in your palm. The one and only valuable thing in your family. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand before the broken monument. You would rehearse the vow one more time, here among the silent dead, until the terrifying words were nothing more than meaningless sound, spoken mechanically.
Choking on the grief that tasted metallic and sharp, you began a theatrical dance of sorrow. Your silk wedding clothes were ruined, snagging on the thorny bushes and wet, cracking marble. You wept openly, the sound echoing flatly off the silent stones, your body turning in ragged spirals, mimicking the terrible joy you could never feel.
“With this hand… I will lift your sorrow…” The words trembled, a prayer you didn't mean, a prayer choked with tears. This was your macabre rehearsal, your final, bitter defiance. You spun until dizziness forced you back down, the world tilting under the oppressive, fog-laden sky. You fell to your knees again, facing the crooked root. You forced yourself to breathe, pulling the last of your strength for the awful words, whispering the terrifying vows to the silent.
“Your cup will never empty…” you were weeping, the lie of it tasting bitter and metallic, “for I will be your wine…” You reached the final, critical line. You needed something to secure the ring upon, a practice gesture of binding yourself forever. Your eyes fell upon a jagged branch jutting from the damp earth in front of you, its end curled like a skeletal finger, slick with cold decay. It was grotesque, utterly still, and perfect for your sorrowful performance.
“And with this ring-” with a final, mournful, shuddering breath, you forced the words out, the sound ripped from your soul: “-I shall be your wife”
You slid the delicate silver band over the tip of the root.
“Till death do us part.“
The instant the metal touched the bark, the world compressed into silence. The distant sounds of Nasha Town were swallowed instantly, the wind dying in a single, held breath. Every hair on your body stood on end, signaling a presence older than time itself, now entirely focused on you.
Then, the root moved.
The branch coiled inward, securing the ring with the crushing finality of a lock snapping shut.
The air crystallized around you. The cold mist of the cemetery curled into a palpable presence. A sound, colder than the grave and sweeter than any living music, resonated from the swirling blue vapor, mimicking your pathetic sorrow with chilling perfection.
The very second the mist began to coalesce, whispering a terrifying echo of your vow, you realized the monstrous bargain you had struck.
"With this hand," the mist sighed, the sound like frosted velvet sliding over stone, "I will lift your sorrow..."
You snatched your hand back, screaming soundlessly, your entire body launching into a blind, desperate, immediate flight.
The earth exploded into motion as you ran, abandoning the ring and the fear of Varka for a terror so immediate it paralyzed your breathing. The root was pulling itself entirely from the ground in pursuit, shedding the damp soil to reveal a pale finger. It was clad in the tattered, elegant remnants of a black velvet cuff, the silver wedding band resting perfectly on the marble skin.
"Your cup will never empty," a whisper, deep and full of ancient satisfaction, pursued you from behind the headstones. "for I will be your wine."
Something was pursuing you and very air pulsated with its dedication. It almost felt like a wedding dance, a macabre, inescapable pas de deux.
As you stumbled, sobbing and frantic, toward the bridge, the shadows stretched and elongated into the outline of a tall figure, racing ahead of you only to snap back into the mist the moment you looked. The blue fog swirled into ribbons, and you could feel the presence everywhere.
"And with this ring," the chill voice promised from right behind your shoulder, even though there was nothing there, "I shall be your husband."
The commitment echoed in your ears. Your desperate escape was merely a dance step to him. A soft, rhythmic click, clack, click – the sound of the perfectly polished boots on damp stone – was an audible promise, always inches away behind you.
You scrambled forward, tasting blood where you had bitten your tongue. You were blind, dizzy, and utterly spent. The stone bridge came into sight finally – the boundary of the dead world and the last sliver of hope. You stumbled onto its mossy stone. Freedom was just ahead.
But then – a sound.
A great, harsh cry ripped through the stillness. The piercing shriek of a crow taking flight from the highest arch of the bridge tore the silence apart.
The sound was so immediate, so violent, that you flinched and cried out, stumbling forward, losing your footing on the wet stone. You plunged into empty air, certain the fall from the bridge this high would kill you.
But instead, the forward momentum carried you, not to the darkness below, but straight into the solid chest of a figure that had appeared, silent as the shadows themselves, directly in your path. His grip was as strong as Varka’s, but entirely cold, utterly still.
You tilted your head back, gazing up at your savior.
He was the personification of tragic, perfect elegance, startlingly beautiful and utterly ethereal. His skin was the unblemished white of ancient marble under moonlight, contrasted sharply with the rich, tarnished black of his exquisitely tailored suit. The fabric, though ancient, hugged a figure of impossible grace, utterly untouched by time or corruption. His hair, a curtain of dark, frozen blue-white, shone like glacial ice, framing a face of princely beauty. His eyes were a pool of liquid starlight, that was focused on you. His lips, thin and startlingly blue, parted in a gentle smile when your body crashed into him.
He gazed down at you, his focus absolute, a love that had waited centuries and was finally sated. The cold radiating from his body was seeping into your frantic heart, slowing its desperate beat. He held you tight, a dedication born of the earth itself, one that would never let you go.
His voice, when it came, was the same chilling melody from the air, but now clear, a breathtaking, smooth baritone. It was cold, deep, and final. He lowered his head, his cold breath ghosting over your ear.
“My dearest...”
He pulled back just enough, his gaze pinning you where you stood. His eyes drank in the ruined silk of your dress and the exquisite exhaustion on your face. He had been longing for the sorrowful creature who performed the unnecessarily beautiful ritual right on his modest grave. The moment you swayed in that desperate, tear-stained pas de deux among the dead, he knew you were the one.
“And now-” he murmured, his thumb, frigid as buried silver, tracing the line of your jaw, his adoration overwhelming, “-the groom shall kiss his bride.”
You couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't breathe. His face descended, a beautiful mask of cold porcelain against your hot, tear-stained skin. His lips, freezing and impossibly soft, pressed against yours.
The shock was absolute. It was the deepest cold you had ever known, the one that reached into your very core and stole the panic from your lungs. It was an acceptance, a claim, a violation, all wrapped in a kiss that tasted faintly of cemetery mist and forgotten roses. The intensity, the utter certainty of him...
The world dissolved into a smear of blue and gray, and with a final sigh, you fainted, your body going utterly limp and small in the arms of your husband.
Flins smiled. The gentle gesture was a chillingly serene smile that banished the shadow from his perfect features. He held you against his chest, your living warmth a shocking and intoxicating reality against his eternal cold. This was the exquisite paradox of his claim: till death do us part meant he could never return to the sunlit world, but you, his bride, could join him in his beautiful stillness. Kyryll lowered his face, breathing in the scent of you and submerged into a beautiful dream – a sublime longing for the moment your desperate heart would finally achieve his perfect peace, allowing you to become the beautiful spirit destined to stand beside him.
With a soundless grace, Flins lifted your limp body, cradling you like a relic of impossible value. The stone beneath his polished boot cracked, yielding not to mud, but to a swirling abyss – a vertigo of indigo and silver. This was the gate. His home. He was taking you beyond the vow's final clause.
And then, just as he was about to step into the vortex, a frantic sound tore through the cold quiet.
“Darling! Where are you?!”
It was Varka’s voice, manic and seeking, slicing through the mist from the direction of the town. The sound was wild, filled with an animal panic that was both terrifying and utterly powerless.
Flins’s brow contracted into a profound, elegant frown. The Grand Master’s voice was nothing more than static against his eternal stillness. Kyryll pulled your warm body into the unyielding shelter of his coat, tightening his grip to ensure the living world could not reclaim its own.
With a final glance at your still face, he stepped into the swirling vortex, pulling you, his delicate prize, down into the realm of the dead, sealing your fate with his cold dedication.
“Till death do us part.”
.
Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
To fall deeper...
So, i was rewatching Corpse Bride, then went to play Genshin, and sudeenly, Flins came home!! Isn’t that fate, my darlings? And yeah, that’s basically how the idea for this scenario came to me.
Idk if i’ll write some more parts, but if you end up loving it… who knows.
I AM!!! Some scenes of the trailer looked borderline 3D, so hopefully the quality will be as great!(especially since they had the money to give Jack his own spin off too) Which fight are you looking more forward to? We got some great ones coming up!
-07
HO BOY-
UM ALL OF THEM TBH?? The least I’m looking forward too is nikola vs beel but that’s bc that’s my least anticipated out of all the fights this season (I’m really hyped for all of em’)
BUT REALISTICALLY?? EITHER HADES VS QIN OR APOLLO VS LEO, I CANT PICK BETWEEN THE TWO, I LIKE THEM BOTH A LOT!!!
But I do think that the cgi is bc of how difficult the suit is to animate so I’m not disappointed or discouraged abt it! (As along as we don’t get any PowerPoint looking ahh slideshow animation again-)
Hello! It's been a while but I am glad to see you're still active, how are you? I saw you also read RoR, and recently a thought came to me: let's say, for this idea's sake, that the player was a descendant of valkyries (maybe some great-grandparent was an half etc.), and they kinda inherit the ability to völund. What do you think would happen?Since in DMC we have a similiar concept, but völund is for life. Do you think they would somehow find out? Would they try to force it, since that way the player would not be able to reject them?Or they wouldn't even think about it and just get excited to be able to use them as weapons and see who is more "compatible" with them?
Hope you find this enjoyable to think about!Since my recent asks have been about weapons I thought this was fitting to send too
-07
OOOOOOOO FUCK YEAH ROR ASKS LETS GOOOO!!!! TY O7!!!!
Ok so- I’d say that the way anyone would find out is if one the characters was in danger (and critically wounded w a heavily damaged weapon too-) and the player was near them and truly desperate to help them out. Hence they’d be like “HOLD MY HAND-“
“HWAT?”
“DONT FUCKING QUESTION ME”
And then they fuse to create a new weapon/or enhance a physical aspect (like w Raiden…kinda) depending on who the player fuses with!
Realistically, since the cast is so worried abt the player’s safety, they wouldn’t dare to force this on the player at all. Especially if they find out that if they die, so does the player. This is only something they would allow if the player insisted and if the situation they were in was EXTREMELY dire.
BUT YEAH SHXIOWND TYSM FOR THE ASK I LOVED IT!!! ALSO ARE YOU EXCITED FOR THE NEW SEASON?! IM KINDA CAUGHT UP W THE MANGA AND IM SO EXCITED TO SEE HOW THE FIGHTS WILL LOOK!! ESPECIALLY W THE NEW ANIMATION STUDIO, WE’RE SO BACK!!! RAHHH-
Self Aware Dmc- NeroKiri Special!- a withering angel in need of care! pLEaSe iT hURtS sO MUcH! I dOn’T WAnT tO bE HErE ANymORe
HI GUYSSSS HERES THE NEROKIRI SPECIAL!! This just me yapping but I lowkey like the title, I just think it’s clever…get it cuz. Cuz Nero calls the player angel…and Kyrie’s nickname for them is a flower so like…they can wither..aha aha…um. Anyway-
CREDITS TO 🪼🌌 ANON AND THIS ASK FOR GIVING ME THE INSPO FOR THE ENDING (and technically pt 5 of this lil saga…which i haven’t even started- AHEM-)
Triggers warnings!! Uhhh…gore??? Question mark??? It’s alluded to, at least…um…yeah…
Also ps for this oneshot bold, italic white text like this is for two characters thinking at once! And when it isn’t in italic like here, they’re speaking outloud at once!
And in case anyone’s wondering, I did, in fact, edit the nicknames V has for the player! Mostly because I can use those easier in future posts!! Sorry for the inconvenience!!
ANYWAY YEAH GUYS I HOPE YOU ENJOYYYY!!!ILYYYY BYE BYEEEE!!!
“Ugghh fuck…” You groaned as you woke up, sitting up on the bed -when did you even get to your room anyway??- feeling way more feverish than you last remembered.
“Angel…? You’re finally up” “Snowdrop!” You snapped your head towards the door as you heard it open, watching as Nero and Kyrie entered the room. Said exsongstress rushing to your side and hugging you.
“Kyrie..? Nero?” You uttered quietly, watching as she embraced you before relaxing in her hold and leaning against her
Normally you wouldn’t have relaxed so easily but you’re too out of it to care about that right now…you just needed comfort. Something the couple seemed too eager to give
“What happened? Last I remember I was throwing my guts out in the trash with a lil’ code on the side” You muttered, watching as Nero took a seat on your other side
“That’s…” He trailed off, sighing as he put a hand to your forehead. “one way to put it…you forgot the blood, too”
“Oh shit” You blinked back, feeling Kyrie hold you tighter at the mention of your current condition. Glancing in her direction and hesitating before placing a hand on her lower back and rubbing your thumb gently to comfort her. Looking away since you were too embarrassed to see her reaction. You’d never reciprocated any affection after all…so…
Unbeknownst to you, Kyrie only smiled at your subtle comfort. Finding your shyness too endearing…my little snowdrop was so cute. You’d get used to this eventually
You glanced up at the hand on your forehead, eyes moving to the white haired boy across you. “…still hot?” You muttered, pausing and continuing since you saw an opportunity to reuse the shitty joke you made with Lady and Trish last time you went out with them. “I mean…I always am but…my temperature”
That got an exasperated huff from Nero, shaking his head with a tired but fond smile as he moved his hand to run his hand through your hair and pet it. Watching as you seemed to melt into it, your usual avoidance now gone.
But if you wanted to flirt, that’s fine. He’d play along…he’d been waiting to do this for a very, very long time after all.
“Yeah, your temperature’s still pretty high, angel...” He rolled his eyes halfheartedly as he continued to play with your hair, leaning closer and watching as your breath hitched quietly with a smug smirk.
“But if you wanted my attention or to praise you for being such a good darling and holding on for so long…ya could’ve said so, Y/N”
“Ah-“ You blinked, subconsciously leaning into Kyrie for comfort -and for somewhere to hide- as you grew flustered at the remark. Eyes darting literally everywhere but his as you tried to stammer out a response
“H-hold on a second there- mph-“ You started before you felt a smaller hand guide your face into someone’s chest
“Nero, be nice! You’re going to overwhelm them!” Kyrie scolded gently, letting you hide your face and fully rest against her. Having noticed your inability to actually talk due to her lover’s teasing
The demon hunter only chuckled sheepishly at that -though he didn’t seem guilty for what he did or said at all- rubbing his neck before smiling fondly at the two of them.
You were more touch starved than you presented yourself. I never understood why you tried to act like you didn’t like our advances. Me and Kyrie already knew how much you actually like our touch…and us. But I guess you’re feeling too sick to care right now. How adorable…our poor angel
“My bad, my bad…you okay, angel?”
‘AM I OKAY?- AM I OKAY?! VDDHXIEHDIEBDUDOSHX’ You thought incredulously, feeling your face redden as Kyrie so kindly let you hide your face in her ti- you mean chest.
It wasn’t until a few seconds that passed that realized you should probably respond. So you mustered up what you could and replied
…with a strangled noise before giving up and fully going limp against the auburn haired woman. Giving a small nod in response, something that made the the couple laugh fondly at your current state.
Kyrie began to run her fingers through your hair, her brows furrowing at how some of the strands seemed to glitch in her hand. Holding you just a bit tighter as she and Nero shared a worried glance.
“Are you hungry, Y/N? You haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday…” She spoke softly, her expression lightening up slightly at how you only responded with another small noise. Guess you were still flustered from letting yourself relax around them properly.
Though it’s not like I wasn’t aware of your growing embarrassment due to my actions. I just have a more…gentle approach than Nero, that’s all. Plus I figured you wouldn’t mind, since I find it endearing how often you seemed to stare at me…oh? Did you think I didn’t notice? Oh you poor, sweet darling. You really are as oblivious as we thought you are.
“Snow drop..”
“Hmm…?” You hummed, just barely managing to raise your head to see meet her eyes. Just barely, mind you-
“I asked if you wanted to eat…you need to if you want to get better, you know?” She smiled gently, dropping her hand from your head to your cheek and rubbing her thumb back and forth carefully.
You looked away, ignoring how you seemed to melt in her hold even more as you thought -and realized- how hungry you actually were at the moment.
Your stomach was starting to hurt like hell…and you could feel your body glitching. Or at least you thought that’s what was happening out of the corner of your eye. You can’t describe it but it feels exactly like that pain in your chest from the day before just…less painful. It…it kinda…why did it remind of you of that one undertale AU-
…anyway-
“…yes please” you muttered, turning to face her again to try and reassure her…and to distract yourself from the pain.
The couple nodded in response, getting up reluctantly to get you something easy to digest before leaving the room.
You stared down at your hands, watching as they seemed to glitch and distort -sometimes faintly and sometimes more harshly- and wincing as they did.
‘Am I…what the fuck..? Is this happening everywhere?’ You thought, looking in the mirror vanity near the bed. Raising your hand and placing your fingers over your constantly distorting body. First up your arms, then the side of your waist…then your hair, playing with a strand before finally reaching up to your cheek. Grimacing through it all as you struggled to hold it together and letting out a shaky sigh.
‘…I wanna go home’ you thought, ruffling your hair weakly before flinching in place as you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“-el? You okay?” Nero squeezed your shoulder carefully, helping you turn to sit properly so you could be between the couple like before.
“Huh?” You snapped out of it, blinking back as you finally registered them in the room. “Sorry, yeah. I was…I was zoned out. When did you two get here?”
“Just a minute ago. We were trying to talk to you but you didn’t respond” Kyrie frowned, readjusting her hold on the bowl of soup she was holding before picking up the spoon and blowing on it. Holding the spoonful to you.
“Say ahh”
“Pardon?” You blinked back in bewilderment, glancing at Nero from the side of your eye to really confirm that this was happening. I mean, sure you were extremely weak right now but surely you could feed yourself just fine, can’t you?
Nero only snorted in response, with Kyrie giving a small -if not sheepish- smile of her own to go with it.
“…oh you’re…you wanna feed me…….???” You tilted your head, still feeling incredibly bewildered by this. Said bewilderment growing when the woman across you nodded and pushed the spoon closer to your lips.
“Yup. It’s not like can really hold onto the spoon or the plate right now in your current state. Even if they weren’t…uh” Nero spoke for her, pausing to glance awkwardly at your distorting hands as he tried not to remind you of how bad you looked at the moment.
“It’s okay, you can say it” You sighed with a defeated -if not slightly exasperated- nod
“-glitching…we can tell your body feels heavier than it should for you to even move your arms. So just…indulge us for once, won’t you?”
Besides, this is our opportunity to really spoil you and do whatever we want to you now…you are so..so weak, after all. Well…weaker than you already were before compared to me and everyone else. It’d be a waste if we didn’t take the chance, wouldn’t it darling?
You stared at the couple with a reluctant and hesitant look, really wondering if this was necessary. Though the constant pain from the glitching is a never ending reminder that maybe it actually was
You looked down at the bowl’s contents…oh, is that potato soup? That’s not fair, god damn it-
“….fine…I’m not saying ah, though..” You gave in with a sigh, parting your lips and taking the spoonful Kyrie had been holding up for you. “Mm, that’s good”
“Oh come on now, not even once?” Nero grinned, bumping your shoulder gently as Kyrie started to get another spoonful and raising it up to your lips again.
“Please, Y/N?” She smiled almost shyly, tilting her head almost unnoticeably.
…and in the moment, you couldn’t even think. I mean, how could you say no to a woman like her? That smile was criminal, my god- aHEM!!
You looked away as you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath before glancing at the couple. Swallowing quietly before letting out a sigh and facing the ex-songstress again. Meeting her gentle yet expectant gaze briefly before closing your eyes and parting your lips slightly once more.
“…ahh..” You uttered as quietly as you could, already embarrassed enough by the fact that you decided to indulge the couple’s -though mostly Kyrie’s- request and trying to ignore the satisfied glint in the couple’s eyes and the soft coo from her.
“Atta angel”
“Don’t burn yourself okay?”
“Owm- fuck!” You made a muffled curse, a tiny whine following after with a grimace as you did the one thing Kyrie just warned you about.
“Angel!” They sighed in fond exasperation, continuing to feed you and making sure that you don’t burn yourself again.
—————————————————————————
“Ugh…where am I..?” You groaned, looking at your surroundings before realizing you were at the Qlipoth tree again. But why…?
You tensed up as you heard the familiar screeching from the Empusa demons that attacked you when you first arrived to this world, not daring to think twice and immediately running away from them as to avoid the same mistake.
…or so you thought.
You were stuck in place.
You couldn’t move.
Why can’t you move?
Your mind is screaming to run but your body refuses to.
Or does it?
You looked, wanting to know why despite your best efforts to move and run away, your feet remain glued to the ground. And that’s when you saw it.
The game’s code. Could you even call it a game anymore?
It was preventing you from moving. Keeping your feet in place…all while the group of Empusa grew closer.
“Move. Move MOVE MOVE!! I CANT MOVE!! FUCK!!!” You cursed, hyperventilating as you tried your best to free yourself and run away. Eyes rapidly darting from your feet and the group of demons.
“C’mon c’mon c’mon..!” You tried tugging harsher, only for the code to retaliate and ground more to the floor.
“Oh for- fuck you too, asshole!!” You groaned, still trying to free yourself despite the code’s interference before it was too late.
‘C’mon, hurry up!! They’re right there, hurry!!’ You thought, giving one last tug with whatever strength you had left before giving up. Feeling tears swelling in your eyes as you had no choice but to call out.
“DANTE?! VERGIL?!…NERO, TRISH?? LADY?!” You screamed, trying to shrink yourself back as the Empusa drew near…almost there..
“ANYONE!! PLEASE JUST HELP M-“
Before you got another wail out, the demons pounced. Biting into your flesh and mauling you alive.
All while your screams echoed through the Qlipoth tree
…and into reality.
—————————————————————————
You woke up with a pained wail, sitting up in the bed and running your hands over yourself frantically. Were you really alive?! What was that?! A nightmare?! That felt too real to be just a dream! The way your skin was being teared, their fangs digging into your body and ripping it piece by piece, the blood being drained from your veins-
“NO!! No no no no no no!!” You whispered shakily, the glitching in your body growing as you hyperventilated more and more.
After what felt like hours, you finally came to your senses. Almost using the robotic sounds of your body glitching as a way to ground yourself to the current reality…how ironic.
…
You took a deep breath, staring down blankly at your hands before setting your gaze towards the night stand. Spotting some medicine and multiple bottles of water…must’ve been Nero and Kyrie.
…speaking of which…
Your body seemed to move on its own. Navigating the house little by little -while still wincing due to pain from the distortion- before eventually finding yourself in front of the couple’s bedroom door. Staring at it in a daze before slowly coming to your senses…somewhat…just enough to overthink.
‘Shit…but what if I’m bothering them with this? That’s so childish! -you just had a horribly traumatic nightmare. Hell, maybe that wasn’t a nightmare and that was an alternate run from the code here. It was too real to be just a dream- yeah but like-‘
At this point you were pacing back and forth as you went on in your inner dialogue.
‘I know Nero and Kyrie offered but I still feel bad!- but do you really wanna be alone right now? Do you feel safe enough???- …no but like- but nothing! Just ask, it can’t be that bad! Just knock on the door! It ain’t that hard- okay okay!!’ You thought, stopping in your tracks and raising your hand up to knock.
…only to back away as if the door burnt you and keep pacing.
‘ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! JUST KNOCK ALREADY!!!- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!’
“Y/N..? What’re you doing?”
‘…oh fuck me-‘ You cursed internally, stopping in your tracks and turning awkwardly to face the man.
“…hi Nero…” you murmured with a small wave, looking down and struggling to come up with a way to say what you paced back and forth for without sounding like some lost kid.
“…I just..well uh…remember the…um…fuck-“
“..you wanna sleep in our room?” He finished for you, leaning on his side on the door frame with a fond yet tired look. Finally realizing how shaken up you looked.
He watched as you gave a small hum in response, still looking away from him before he let out a sigh and gently guided you to the bed. Carefully waking Kyrie up and watching as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with a yawn as she saw you.
“Y/N…? What happened?” She mumbled, inspecting your face and tracing over the dried tear tracks.
“…nightmare…I dunno how to explain it…but…I don’t…” You tried to utter out, feeling your breath grow shallow as your mind replayed the horrific death from a few moments ago. The faint glitching on your body growing more agitated the more you panicked before you brought to reality by the couple. Each holding one of your hands in their own and squeezing them to ground you.
“Easy there sweetheart…easy…just breathe okay? You don’t gotta tell us what happened…just focus on us and get your breath steady again. In…” Nero inhaled, urging you to do the same while Kyrie stimulated you carefully. Tracing her fingers over your arm slowly before moving to run her fingers through your hair and repeat.
“And out…” He breathed out, you following suit as your breath trembled. Doing your best to focus on the couple’s guidance to come back to your senses. Finally settling down after a few minutes
“Atta darling…that’s our angel” Nero smiled gently, carefully embracing your side while Kyrie did the same.
She cupped your cheek and gave your forehead a kiss before starting to place softer, yet more lasting ones over your face. Nero following suit to give you the affection they both knew you needed.
Near your eyes. Then your nose. Then your cheeks…then the corner of your lips…then your neck- WOAH THERE-
“UM!”
The couple chuckled against your neck, giving one last kiss before backing away, looking down at you with a soft, loving lovesick smile before gently guiding you to lay down in between them. Practically tucking you into bed.
“In ya’ go…there we go. Nice n’ comfy”
“Try to get you some rest okay..? We can worry about drinking your medicine in the morning” We’ll be right here when you wake up”
“Ummm”
Your mind was still reeling from the kisses, mind you. You barely registered the way they laughed at your flustered reaction, nor the way they held you as they settled on your sides.
…this was really nice, actually…they were really comfy. You could feel your consciousness slipping little by little.
Aww, we’re glad you think so, darling. It was about time you accepted our offer to sleep with us, y’know?…you must be more tired and scared than you thought to come to us yourself, huh angel? Poor thing…you’re safe with us. You know that don’t you?
Don’t you?
—————————————————————————
…it’s happening again.
“WHY THE FUCK AM FALLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING?!?!?!?” You screamed, watching helplessly as you fell through the sky and descended into the roots of the Qlipoth tree -THIS PLACE AGAIN?! GOD DAMN IT!!-
‘FUCK IM GONNA DIE AGAIN!! NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT AGAIN!!’ You thought, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to brace yourself for an impact that…never happened?
…though that probably has to do with why your hanging upside down and the harsh tug you felt on your leg…speaking of, OW?!?
“And what do we have here?…the timeline has been reset…and the very anomaly I was looking for seems to be handed to me on a silver platter…how convenient” You heard a voice, distorted as it echoed through the chamber. Prompting you to open your eyes and widen them as you realized who exactly stopped your fall…and possibly broke your left ankle-
Hello, hello! I hope you're doing great! I LOVE your self aware DMC AU it brings me joy! I know requests are closed right now and this isn't a request just a thought that popped into my gremlin brain of when Urizen first appears and the player's like "... Hear me out" everyone nearly breaks character like NO
LMFAO FOR SURE!!
Ngl it took me a bit too warm up to Urizen’s design but honestly? Yeah he’s a hear me out moment. And now I’m definitely including this lil snippet in a future oneshot!
A very easy move Capcom could've done in DMC4 to make Kyrie more interesting is that before she was toted around as glorified bait for Nero, after demons started going apeshit after Dante came by [idk something like Sanctus was keeping them on lock but when he temp died they went haywire] that Kyrie had to protect people. She doesn't have sword training. She got hurt. Injured. Watched people die. Suffered.
Her dress is not a pristine white by the time she, seemingly, sees Nero attack her own body. Stained with blood and torn. Her hair is down and disheveled. She does not stare at him with fear, for with what she has seen, fear has been stolen from her. A hollow gaze and hands swollen from a sword they were not trained to wield. Only a few weak scraps slain by her hand; more than anyone wanted her to.
She was not meant to fight.
But she did.
Because she must be as good as everyone wants... needs her to be.
And that's how her very image of perfection has been shattered into glass. Broken.
