So this is probably the only non-yaoi Devil May Cry fanfic I've ever written, and probably ever will write. Because my yaoi obsession terrifies even myself. Anyway, I've always wondered where Nero got that arm from, (not to mention where Nero actually came from in the first place), and my friend and I decided that the following story is the most likely solution. Possibly.

Read, enjoy, maybe review, because, y'know, they make me a happy Leper J

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, or Nero. I did get to hug a guy dressed as Dante once though. Happiest day of my life.

Demonic Origins

Crunch!

Slice!

Snap!

Splatter!

Stylish!

At last, Nero stood atop of the demon Bael, posing as his fan girls (and boys) adored him and occasionally fainted.

"Oh, Nero, you're so sexy!"

"Nero, I love you!"

"Nero, have my babies!"

The young demon hunter wasn't really sure how that last one was possible, but these were the usual screams that added to Nero's already oversized ego.

"Hey, Nero, that wasn't bad. How did you get your fabulous devil's arm anyway?" asked Lady, showing up only to try and con some money out of the poor boy. Nero grinned, but on the inside it was a pure face-palm moment. Obtaining his Devil Bringer was not one of his finer moments. In fact, if Lady, or worse, Dante, were ever to discover the origins of his demonic power, he'd be the laughing stock of Fortuna. No, scratch that, the world. Nero winced at the thought. He'd never be able to show his face again.

"It's a long story," he simply replied, but meanwhile, his mind flashed straight back to that night-


It was like a scene out of a cheesy horror movie, dark night, lightening flashing, rain pouring down.

Nero marched towards the church doors, his silvery white hair stuck to his head with a mixture of rain and demon blood. Why was it always churches? Churches and priests, they were always the culprits.

Kicking open the double doors, Nero was met with a most unpleasant sight. Gothic architecture was supposed to be somewhat beautiful, right? Well, it was, when not corrupted n

By a wall sized portrait of the High Priest, Sanctus, and his general old fogeyness.

Rolling his eyes, Nero trudged onward, resisting the urge to shoot the afore-mentioned picture in it's wrinkled forehead. He continued up numerous flights of stairs and multiple hallways, dripping as he went, intent on finding his target. The Holy Order of Knights had been run off their feet of late with all the Hell Gates opening, but that suited the youth just fine. He wasn't going to have some stuffy officer cramping his style.

His commander, Credo, had sent Nero off to kill a large demon that had been terrorizing locals, and seeing as he had quite the soft spot for the commander's sister, Kyrie, Nero had agreed whole-heartedly. Though after the hordes of demons he'd already been through, he was starting to consider just buying flowers for his love interest.

He couldn't consider much of anything for long though, because that was when a door burst open to his right, and he was faced with what appeared to be a twenty-foot tall, demonic, dog, with fire shooting out of his tail and snout. Nero grinned and revved up Red Queen, all ready for action. Charging at his opponent, he attacked with a few sharp sweeps of his sword, then jumped back, ready for a counterattack. No retaliation was made, however, so Nero settled for taking out his gun and promptly shooting the demon in the face. He fired and stabbed and slashed continuously, but the demon had yet to move.. Almost like it was building up to something..

"Oh, shit!" Nero swore, just as his opponent spontaneously combusted, bringing the church down with it.


Nero lifted a hand to his head. He was still lying in the debris of the explosion, and his right arm had a huge chunk of stained glass sticking right through it. Ripping the glass out of his arm, he lay straight back down, closing his eyes as he tried to ignore the blood trickling down his face.

But soon, blood wasn't the only thing trickling. Opening one eye, Nero suddenly realised that the demon dog was back.

And it appeared to be urinating on his injured arm.

"You little fucker!" he yelled, picking up a metal pole from the wreckage and driving it right through his opponent's midriff.

"That takes care of you! Damn, that's just disgusting," Nero muttered, stalking back to headquarters.


Nero was pulled out of his memories when a certain elder demon hunter tugged at his cursed Devil Bringer.

"Hey, Kid, you comin'? This place has god strawberry sundaes."

Nero grinned at Dante, the one man (well, half man) that got to shoot the actual High Priest in the face, rather than imagining shooting his portrait.

"Ice-cream sounds great, old man, as long as we don't bring Lady along."

"Wouldn't dream of it," winked Dante, leaving Nero to catch up as he wrestled away from Lady.

End