Title: Trinitrotoluene
Pairing: DantexNero
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry nor do I make any profit from writing fanfiction. Unfortunately.
Word Count: 1'929
Summary: It was like a ticking bomb waiting to explode. Nero is having a hard time adjusting to these demonic…urges. DantexNero. End of DMC4.
Chapter Summary: Nero has become more demonic in nature, Kyrie's worried and Dante is going on a trip.
A/N: Yay. Multichaptered DanteNero fic! (What'll be called Danero? Dantero? Whatever) Man, I love building up relationships in fanfictions! Making up plot lines…oooh…just love it!
This proves staring at a law textbook for longer then is healthy sure does do some weird things to people's brain. Or it could be all the trashy romance novels I read…huh…
Well, anyway, I think this is the first plot related DanteNero fanfiction…apart from The Reunion: DantexNero and Save Me: DantexNero, but they're more like three part oneshots…or something…oh well…
At the moment it's T since it's just plot related shit…but once it gets to the good stuff it will be rising up to M…probably…ten to fifteen chapters from now.
Hmm…I usually spend my time writing BLEACH™ characters so I'm not sure if I got DMC in character…oh well. Criticism is welcome.
Oh, and as for Kyrie, it said it in the DMC4 book thing that Nero viewed her as a mother and a sister soo, that's what I'm going for here, just platonic love between the two folks!
And woo, extracts of Dante's Inferno shall be put before every chapter because it rocks! If you haven't read it, SHAME ON YOOOOUUUU!!
This chapter is basically the introduction, about what happened after DMC4 and shit. And how Devil Bringer has influenced poor Nero. Heheh.
Ugh. This author note is getting too long. Enjoy!
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"You invite me up here to the lonely old church, and wanna talk about God? I thought this was the part where you try to touch the areas my bathing suit covers. What a waste of time."
-- Dante, Devil May Cry 3 manga, book 2
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This man has not yet seen his last evening; But, through his madness, was so close to it, That there was hardly time to turn about.
Canto I of Purgatorio
TRINITROTOLUENE 001: AFTERMATH
It stung.
Sapphire eyes slightly narrowed, Nero breathed deeply to ride out the stinging pain along his right arm – his Devil Bringer. Clear water dripped innocuously from the incandescent azure claws, absorbed into the grainy stained with viscous green blood of a recently killed demon.
He despised Holy Water.
Slowly moving his demonic arm and wincing at the flares of pain igniting from that movement, he flicked his wrist to allow small droplets to fly from his claw tips. The damn demon jostled him and broke one of the bottles of Holy Water in his coat, subsequently killing itself and splashing it on Nero's demonic arm.
When he first got Devil Bringer, Holy Water did not hurt as much as it did now. With time, it eventually got to the point where setting himself on fire and falling on a bed of nails would hurt less. Good thing it only splashed on his arm and not his whole body.
Grasping the frayed ends of his indigo coat, he carefully mopped up the Holy Water from the variegated hide, the azure light brightening with the pain. Nero cursed its existence, something that had quickly become a daily ritual after Sanctus's failed plot to take over the world, and dropped the damp cloth quickly before it could get onto his human hand.
"They need to start making them with stronger glass." Nero grumbled irritably, flexing his aching claws and twitching at the jolt of pain. "Stupid…"
Giving Devil Bringer one last shake, Nero scanned the small battlefield, senses alert for any surprise attacks. Almost unconsciously, he tipped his head back a little to scent the air. He caught himself and shook his head with a scowl, stomping through the puddles of 'demon goo' and along the small dirt path towards Fortuna.
Fortuna had rebuilt reasonably quickly in the past two months. Wandering Devil Hunters had migrated there at the gossip of demon problems with people willing to pay. Nero was a little miffed at the competition but grudgingly accepted that he wouldn't be able to defeat every demon.
It's not like he can multiply or anything.
There were a few misunderstandings between Nero and the Devil Hunters of course – and who can blame them? His demonic arm is hardly discreet – but a few snide comments, Red Queen being brandished and telling them to call Dante ("Yes! The Son of Sparda you fucking, repugnant turd!") made them back off and keep a respectful distance.
He kicked a pebble viciously. The stone rocketed through the air and crumbled when it collided against a tree, denting the bark. Attempted assassinations aside, there was also the matter of odd…urges. Primal ones.
Sometimes, passing people in the street, he catches himself eyeing some up, evaluating how much they weighed and wondering if there was enough meat on them to eat. And that the incoherent garble that the demons screeched out suddenly became a clear language to his ears.
They weren't the only things, oh no. The sudden craving for raw meat, the urge to hunt and…the other one he just ignored.
FOOOOOD!!
Nero's head snapped round at the hoarse screech, Blue Rose already cocked and aimed at the ambushing demon's head. The demon gave a slight hesitant pause, obviously reconsidering its decision to eat this 'human'. Nero didn't hesitate.
He squeezed the trigger and the demon (looking like something that escaped from Agnus's lab – which it probably did – a horrifying amalgamation of a pelican and some sort of lizard) screeched out a desperate, Wait!
It disintegrated into green sludge a second later when its brains spattered across the dirt path.
"Tch. As if it expected me to listen." Nero scoffed distastefully, holstering his double barrel gun. His stomach rumbled pointedly and he sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting something to eat."
For the rest of the walk, no more demons lunged out at him.
X.x.X
"Ah, a slab of raw cow meat." Nero poked the red flesh with an azure claw, the tip stained red with the blood. "How appetising." He drawled to no one in particular, ignoring the glares boring into his back from the Devil Hunters sitting in the pub. He didn't give a shit what they thought of him. True, he could eat the meat at home in private but…it was pretty fun ruffling the wannabe Devil Hunters' feathers.
This was one of the newest urges that he accepted impassively. Raw meat was full of proteins and shit, right? And he hadn't suffered from stomach cramps or salmonella yet due to his iron stomach, so this was more of a good thing then a bad thing.
He still couldn't shrug off the little voice in the back of his head whining that cow meat didn't taste as good as human meat, though.
He didn't bother with the knife and fork and basically ripped the meat apart with his Devil Bringer, unable to stop the smug smirk from curling his lips at the mutters of disgust his sharp ears caught from the Devil Hunters behind him. Flexing his bloodied claws (and only a faint twinge of pain assaulted the appendage meaning that the Holy Water had worn off) he raised them unthinkingly to his lips, licking off the crimson fluid.
He paused a second later when he realised what he was doing before shrugging and continuing on. He wasn't going to use a fucking napkin for Christ's sake to clean Devil Bringer's claws. It would ruin his badass reputation.
Though at the moment he was dancing dangerously between the lines 'badass' and 'demonic'.
He wondered, vaguely, if Dante suffered problems like these.
X.x.X
Kyrie sighed.
Smoothing out the white sleeves of her dress, she smiled at the assembled group of men lined up before her, dipping her ladle into the bowl of soup and pouring some for the hungry construction men.
Nero had been acting…strangely lately.
No. That wasn't right. Not lately, for two months.
She accepted a grizzly man's thank you with a dazzling smile. Ever since Nero, who she viewed as a son and brother, rolled into one, acquired that arm…Devil Bringer? He had been slowly changing from the brash, rebellious warrior into something darker.
Demonic.
She didn't like to think of him like that because Nero was still Nero, but even she couldn't turn a blind eye to the…predatorily looks that crept into sapphire eyes occasionally. She said nothing about his recent craving for raw meat, didn't flinch or recoil from him when he snarled out incomprehensible, guttural growls when angered (i.e. most of the time) and made sure to keep all Holy Water in the cabinet full of other anti-demon equipment away from him. But even she couldn't stop the faint shiver that crept along her skin at those looks.
She knew Nero didn't know when he does them – though she's sure he's aware – but she just smiled at him, praying that his human side (his warm hearted, loving, human side) would smother this darker version.
He wasn't malicious, oh no, never malicious. Snide comments, yes. Vindictive, yes. But outright maliciousness, no. Just more…intimidating.
Smiling at another worker, she wondered if Nero was going to stay up again tonight.
He suddenly started suffering from insomnia recently as well.
X.x.X
Dante was bored.
He watched the ceiling fan rotate slowly, spinning his newly bought revolving chair to match the speed as he pondered over whether or not a Cheeto pizza truly existed.
If there was an ice cream sandwich…most likely.
He paused his spinning to stare almost desperately at the silent, old fashioned phone (he should really get a new one…maybe one of those spiffy internet phones everyone was raging about), trying to use the power of his mind to make it ring.
After ten minutes and yielding no results, he stopped.
"I'm bored." Dante declared out loud.
"What is 'bored', brother?"
"'Bored' is when there is nothing to do."
Dante scowled and tossed an empty pizza box at the dual swords mounted on the wall beside Beowulf's gauntlets. "Shut up, you two!" The two swords miraculously quietened and Dante began to brood.
And he did it reasonably well too, though it looked slightly reminiscent to the elder of the two twins, Vergil.
A metaphorical light bulb figuratively 'dinged' above Dante's head.
"I know!" He crowed triumphantly, snapping his fingers. "I'll visit the kid and see how he's doing! Prob'ly have a friendly spar too!" They were fun; though the impaling and Holy Water thrown at him he could do without.
With a plan to alleviate his boredom spawned, Dante pushed himself out of the revolving chair and stretched his limbs lazily. "I've heard Fortuna's got a great business going on with Devil hunting at the moment too, so I'll still get some cash!" He paused. "Who am I talking too?"
"Whatever." Dante shrugged on his leather, carmine trench coat. "I gonna see if I can make him do that veiny thing again."
May God have mercy upon Nero's soul.
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A/N: Hmmmm…not sure whether or not to put it in the humour genre since it will get angsty later on….
Ah well, humour is good for the soul! The soul I say!
Interested thus far? Hope I've got everyone in character…
…I think Nero is a little too dark but, oh well.