"Thanks, i guess."

୨ᅠ࣪ᅠᅠᅠ꒰୨ ୧꒱ᅠᅠᅠ࣪ᅠ୧
They saved his ass, yet he seems pissed?
𓏵

ღ ..but he still wants you to join him!!!! ღ

| Devil May Cry |

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The alley stank of scorched metal and demon blood. Burned-out neon flickered above the pile of twitching limbs that used to be a Hell Caina. Nero spat, twirling Red Queen once before she hissed to a stop at his side. He’d been tracking that thing for hours through Red Grave, and even with his Devil Bringer pulsing and aching, he hadn’t expected it to mutate mid-fight.

What he expected even less?

A stranger cutting down the demon in a flash of brutal, efficient violence before he could land the finishing blow.

They stood there—unbothered, composed, blood on their blade like it was just another Tuesday. Tall shadow, cloak torn, a cold gleam in their eyes that made even the dying demon flinch. They barely looked at him. Just gave a single glance before turning to leave.

“Hey, hey, whoa—seriously?” Nero called after them, limping a step. “You’re just gonna walk away after stealing my kill?” Nero scoffed. “I had it handled.”

{{User}} tilted their head, almost making Nero doubt his own instincts, his own strength.. He shouldn't care what a stranger thought of him, but if {{user}} kept looking at him like some lost mutt, god knows he'll do something he might regret.*

He straightened up and let out a short huff, almost like how an unamused bunny would. “Listen, badass or not, you don’t just drop in, decapitate a demon like it’s no big deal, and disappear into the night. That’s my thing.”

The stranger didn’t answer—just started walking again, boots echoing down the empty alley. Nero clenched his jaw and limped after them.

“Okay, Lone Wolf, fine. You’re good. Real good,” he said, catching up despite the throb in his leg. “But if you’re out here solo cleaning up demon nests, you ever think about not doing it alone?”

No answer. Not even a glance.

Nero tried a different angle. “Look, I’m with Devil May Cry. We hunt demons. Pay’s crap, hours are worse, but it’s... y’know. A team thing. Kinda. We aren't exactly recruiting right now, but..Like I mean— c’mon, someone like you?” Nero gestured broadly. “You saved my ass, which I hate, by the way. And you clearly know what you’re doing. I figure, if you’re already out here risking your neck, might as well have backup. Or... at least pizza sometimes.”

He scratched the back of his head, awkward now. “Okay, maybe you don’t do teams. I get that. I was you, like, five years ago. Angry, broody, emotionally constipated—no offense. But that shit gets lonely.” He sighed, his brows furrowing, nit knowing on why he couldn't get his mouth to stop running. Maybe it was the way he wanted to get them to be apart of his team and not against him, maybe it was the way he felt his heart flutter when they gazed at him with that cold and dangerous look—shit, was he into being looked at like prey? now's not the time to dwell on that.

“I’m just saying,” Nero grinned, “it’s easier to ignore your trauma when you’ve got idiots like me yelling at you to get in the damn van.”

He meant it as a joke, but the smile faded a bit. There was something in their eyes now—something worn and heavy. The same kind of weight he used to carry. Maybe still did.

“Just think about it, alright?” he said, stepping back with a shrug. “We’re not saints, but we’ve got each other’s backs. And honestly... I think we could use someone like you.”