Juxtaposed ~ DMC drabbles
folder
+A through F › Devil May Cry
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,933
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+A through F › Devil May Cry
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,933
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Juxtaposed ~ DMC drabbles
Some old drabbles I did a long time ago. -.-;;
Varying character POVs~ nothing particularly special.
Numbers 02 and 03 are original characters. Remus (c) Kitty Kafe and Daemon (c) kidavi.
I don't want to hear the Remus flames. I write for Kitty Kafe. All of my KK fics are hosted at jack.pot and KK's site and comms. There is a good reason that I don't post them on public hosting sites. Any reviews containing Remus flames will be promptly ignored. See just how mature you can be and try your very damnedest to refrain, please. Let's all be harmonious, ._.
---------------
01 » Dante The wound healed itself, painted lips pursing together and seaming. Smooth skin swallowed up the purplish mottling barely after it had had time to form. Hot pain, but only in his loins; he was so hard it fucking hurt. That grin would have run Satan's blood cold. He fisted himself and moaned. Moaned like a whore, yeah, and he was. A goddamn slut for agony. Fucking shit, man, he could barely control the twitching of his thighs, the languid bucking of his hips. The baby-soft sheath of sensitized skin slid over his rock-hard shaft, gliding with his hand, oiled in pre-cum. He bit his lip and let his eyes roll, sink back into his skull and languish there half-lidded. When he came, he did so with a snarl befitting the devil he was. A breather, wipe twice. Shit... passion spent, up and at 'em. Hello, feet. Let's move the fuck out.
02 » Daemon They were diametric beauty, the two of them. One had been cold, his dark blood spoiled bitter by defeat and damnation. Almost like fucking a strangely exquisite corpse, he mused. Except for, you know, the plaintive moaning and clenching. He was getting hard again just thinking about it. The other one though... he was truly something else. Screwing the living daylights out of him had been pure poetry in motion; the red heat, the frantic pulsing of his flesh and organs. The way his entire body clutched at the fingers, the talons, the cock buried inside him. Recalling the virgin beauty of the thing... perhaps it was time to pay another visit. After all, his master had presented him as a gift to that man. And that man... was now his to enjoy.
03 » Remus If one were to scrape the thin flesh aside, the nerves and sinew there would be whitish and raw. Just delicate little threads of life, clinging so prettily to ribbed muscle. Begging to be severed and tasted. He would eschew the temptation to pluck them... with the same graceful restraint he exhibited when violating him. His beautiful pet. Those deploring cries fell on welcoming ears... although he did wish, occasionally, that pleasure might manifest itself amidst the voice of agony.
04 » Trish The world was beautiful to her. It was made beautiful by the transcendentalism of a savior. She wasn't poetic by nature. She had been created for the purpose of destruction. Destruction of her savior, to be precise. The irony always twisted her petulant little mouth into a smile. When he came and went, her heart sighed in satisfaction. He always left her burning for more, even after he had given her everything she thought she desired. Sometimes she wondered if her familial face was all that tied their pieces together. Then she would realize that she didn't care. He was there with her, and that was all that mattered.
05 » Vergil The folly and plight of his kin... what did it mean to him? Nothing, he told himself, steel grace in the pouring rain. Drenched silk clung to his skin, plastered lank hair to his forehead. Rivulets of consanguineous blood migrated down the channel of his blade. He didn't know regret; the compunctions of humanity were beneath him, after all. The power he sought was almost within his grasp. He wasn't the type to find himself dizzy with intrigue, but it wrought a heady stirring anyway. He had drawn the curtain on his own mortal blood and on that of his kin. The ascension was near.
06 » Nelo Angelo The armored knight could only see in gradients of scarlet, and those hues suited this man. The lowly creature dared to scorn his fealty, but the warrior found himself captured by his gaze. Recognition flickered, then died. Battle and duty called; the mortal would be punished for his insolence. That was the mantra here and he obeyed with an arctic heart. Raising the colossal sword, he prepared to strike down his enemy. The man drew his blade and they circled… both unwittingly prepared to drench their hands in brotherly blood.
07 » Dante Never mind that face of hers. She was hot and supple and her skin was silk beneath his rough palms. Her warm tongue lashing his ear spiked him with carnal need. He ached to spiral inside her and submerse himself in her musk. Just… never mind that face. He milked a heady moan from her before twisting his tongue down her throat. Shit, how he'd missed this; he was drunk off her body and drowning in pleasure. He was light-headed by the time he sank inside her, and the words slipped out on a half-conscious whim: "Mother... fuck..." Just... never mind that face.
Varying character POVs~ nothing particularly special.
Numbers 02 and 03 are original characters. Remus (c) Kitty Kafe and Daemon (c) kidavi.
I don't want to hear the Remus flames. I write for Kitty Kafe. All of my KK fics are hosted at jack.pot and KK's site and comms. There is a good reason that I don't post them on public hosting sites. Any reviews containing Remus flames will be promptly ignored. See just how mature you can be and try your very damnedest to refrain, please. Let's all be harmonious, ._.
---------------
01 » Dante The wound healed itself, painted lips pursing together and seaming. Smooth skin swallowed up the purplish mottling barely after it had had time to form. Hot pain, but only in his loins; he was so hard it fucking hurt. That grin would have run Satan's blood cold. He fisted himself and moaned. Moaned like a whore, yeah, and he was. A goddamn slut for agony. Fucking shit, man, he could barely control the twitching of his thighs, the languid bucking of his hips. The baby-soft sheath of sensitized skin slid over his rock-hard shaft, gliding with his hand, oiled in pre-cum. He bit his lip and let his eyes roll, sink back into his skull and languish there half-lidded. When he came, he did so with a snarl befitting the devil he was. A breather, wipe twice. Shit... passion spent, up and at 'em. Hello, feet. Let's move the fuck out.
02 » Daemon They were diametric beauty, the two of them. One had been cold, his dark blood spoiled bitter by defeat and damnation. Almost like fucking a strangely exquisite corpse, he mused. Except for, you know, the plaintive moaning and clenching. He was getting hard again just thinking about it. The other one though... he was truly something else. Screwing the living daylights out of him had been pure poetry in motion; the red heat, the frantic pulsing of his flesh and organs. The way his entire body clutched at the fingers, the talons, the cock buried inside him. Recalling the virgin beauty of the thing... perhaps it was time to pay another visit. After all, his master had presented him as a gift to that man. And that man... was now his to enjoy.
03 » Remus If one were to scrape the thin flesh aside, the nerves and sinew there would be whitish and raw. Just delicate little threads of life, clinging so prettily to ribbed muscle. Begging to be severed and tasted. He would eschew the temptation to pluck them... with the same graceful restraint he exhibited when violating him. His beautiful pet. Those deploring cries fell on welcoming ears... although he did wish, occasionally, that pleasure might manifest itself amidst the voice of agony.
04 » Trish The world was beautiful to her. It was made beautiful by the transcendentalism of a savior. She wasn't poetic by nature. She had been created for the purpose of destruction. Destruction of her savior, to be precise. The irony always twisted her petulant little mouth into a smile. When he came and went, her heart sighed in satisfaction. He always left her burning for more, even after he had given her everything she thought she desired. Sometimes she wondered if her familial face was all that tied their pieces together. Then she would realize that she didn't care. He was there with her, and that was all that mattered.
05 » Vergil The folly and plight of his kin... what did it mean to him? Nothing, he told himself, steel grace in the pouring rain. Drenched silk clung to his skin, plastered lank hair to his forehead. Rivulets of consanguineous blood migrated down the channel of his blade. He didn't know regret; the compunctions of humanity were beneath him, after all. The power he sought was almost within his grasp. He wasn't the type to find himself dizzy with intrigue, but it wrought a heady stirring anyway. He had drawn the curtain on his own mortal blood and on that of his kin. The ascension was near.
06 » Nelo Angelo The armored knight could only see in gradients of scarlet, and those hues suited this man. The lowly creature dared to scorn his fealty, but the warrior found himself captured by his gaze. Recognition flickered, then died. Battle and duty called; the mortal would be punished for his insolence. That was the mantra here and he obeyed with an arctic heart. Raising the colossal sword, he prepared to strike down his enemy. The man drew his blade and they circled… both unwittingly prepared to drench their hands in brotherly blood.
07 » Dante Never mind that face of hers. She was hot and supple and her skin was silk beneath his rough palms. Her warm tongue lashing his ear spiked him with carnal need. He ached to spiral inside her and submerse himself in her musk. Just… never mind that face. He milked a heady moan from her before twisting his tongue down her throat. Shit, how he'd missed this; he was drunk off her body and drowning in pleasure. He was light-headed by the time he sank inside her, and the words slipped out on a half-conscious whim: "Mother... fuck..." Just... never mind that face.