Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The half-breed is hot on his heels, screeching rubber behind him as the motorcycle gains on the military truck. The White Rabbit hears Echidna's cry of pain before something heavy crashes to the road and rolls away. Hot blasts of fire and wind engulf the highway, burning at the back of his head. The screech of a motorcycle peeling off the road and tearing through the bodies of Agni and Rudra.

Dante is ripping through his underlings like they are little more than paper.

“Come on, comeoncomeoncomeon–!” The Rabbit’s voice tumbles out breathlessly, gaze drifting once more to the wing mirror, watching Dante gain on him. “You can do it! I believe in you!”

The sound of metal on metal comes next. Of all of them, Cavaliere probably has the best chance of dealing some real damage to the half-breed. The Rabbit regrets missing most of their clash, his attention divided between trying to maneuver the van around the other cars on the road.

A tunnel blots out the sky, pale fluorescent lights scattering past. The Rabbit realizes he can no longer hear Dante and Cavaliere, nor does he see the motorcycle in the mirror.

There's a loud slam as boots hit the roof of the truck somewhere above, and the Rabbit casts his gaze upwards. He switches on the cruise control and climbs out of his seat, swinging himself up the side of the vehicle and landing on top of it.

“Well, you know what they say. If you want something done right, do it yourself!” The Rabbit calls over the roar of traffic, spreading his arms wide.

On the other end of the van stands Dante, his coat billowing out behind him like a spray of blood, his eyes wild. Angry. Keyed up by the violence. Good.

“So you're the guy who caused this whole fiasco, huh?” Despite his jovial tone, demonic energy swirls around him, his grin sharp enough to cut. “I thought tall, dark and grumpy back there was the one in charge. He's a lot more like the demon lord type. Not so plush and cuddly, y’know?”

… And yet, still so arrogant and self assured, covering up his insecurities with jokes and deflections. The kind of narcissism he expects of Sparda's bloodline, honestly. No matter. He'll just have to remind him of what he's truly after right now.

The Rabbit reaches up to his cravat, his thumb hooking in the cord of the amulet around his neck, pulling it out of its cover. He holds it up before him, the red and blue stone glinting in the passing lights. His voice comes out as a soft and dangerous croon.

“Come and get it, half-breed.”

Dante lunges forward. The Force Edge flares with dark, crackling energy. The Rabbit sends wave after wave at him, Dante ducking and weaving between strikes, the purple crescents tearing into the roof of the tunnel and causing rubble to rain down in their wake. Dante snarls, bringing the Rebellion down hard, the Force Edge clashing with it.

Oh.

The impact shudders up his arm, the sheer strength of Dante's blow reverberating through his entire body, right down to his core. He's felt strength like this before, but this is so much more wild– untempered. Raw.

The Rabbit knows he stands no chance against it, and yet he pushes back, feeling the delicious strain on his body. He deflects a few of Dante's strikes, using some of that uncontrolled power against him, but his heels slide back on the surface of the roof. He quickly finds himself running out of ground.

And he doesn't care.

Their blades lock. Dante leans in, teeth bared in a snarl, steam pouring out of his mouth. He is close. So close. The Rabbit tastes his repressed fury, bringing their faces close, his own breathing heavy with more than just exertion.

“That’s it! Let it out! LET IT OUT!”

It's almost a disappointment when the truck lurches violently as it smashes into the back of a car, throwing both of them off balance and breaking their lock. 

Dante cries out, staggering to the edge of the roof, and the Rabbit takes the opportunity to use the momentum to rush at him. He drives his foot into Dante's middle, sending him flying off the truck and crashing into the side of the tunnel. He doesn't see where the half-breed lands, but hopefully it was a painful tumble back into oncoming traffic. Turning on his heel, he makes a dash for the front of the van.

The Rabbit swings himself back down into the driver's seat, seizing control of the vehicle once more. He floors the gas, pulling far ahead, daylight visible at the end of the tunnel. He doesn't see Dante in the side mirror at all. What a pity.

There's a sharp crackling from somewhere behind him, anticipation coiling tight in the Rabbit’s stomach. A flash of red, and he feels a rush of air through the car window as a burning shape hurtles itself forwards, gaining on the van in a matter of seconds.

Everything seems to slow. The sun peels over the van as the tunnel reaches its end. The Rabbit turns his head, and there is Dante, crimson scales bursting over his skin, his eyes blazing with fire. He raises his pistol and levels it with him.

There's nowhere to go. He's cornered. The Rabbit idly wonders if he can survive a shot to the head, but it seems like a relatively unimportant question right now, when salvation has revealed itself before him.

“Jackpot!”

The Rabbit stares back at him, stares into the face of death, and he grins. The hunter's finger tightens on the trigger, and his entire body braces–

And then Dante's head explodes in a shower of gore. He drops like a rock, his body hitting the pavement and rolling to a stop a ways down the road.

The Rabbit slams the breaks and brings the truck to a skidding halt down the highway ahead. He leans on the steering wheel for a moment, eyes wide, breath coming out short, pulse thundering in his ears.

What had just happened? Had the transformation failed somehow? Could the half-breed's blood truly be so volatile? He wouldn't put it past the properties of traitor-spawn blood, but…

It doesn’t seem to matter right now– at least, compared to the way his nerves seem to fizzle with adrenaline and endorphins, a slow draw back from some inscrutable edge, settling down into a low pressure in his gut. The Rabbit eases back in his seat, heat pooling slick and molten between his legs, suppressing a full-body shudder. The valve in his chest pumps harshly, working overtime to regulate the stress on his system and leaving him with an excess of energy with no outlet.

If he were not so pressed for time, he may have indulged.

Oh well, it can't be helped. Sighing in thinly veiled disappointment, he opens the door and steps out, making his way over to the fallen half-breed to assess the damage.

It takes him a moment to realize what had occurred as the scent of burning military-grade adhesive hits his nostrils. A bomb had gone off in Dante's neck. Insurance, if he had to guess. Leave it to DARKCOM to always spoil the fun.

Well, at least Dante hadn't actually been beheaded like he'd initially assumed. The Rabbit can see that half of his face is still intact, the other half a bloody mess of meat and exposed bone. Humming to himself, he pays no mind to the oncoming cars speeding by as he steps over to the fallen hunter.

Dante's blood hits him like a tidal wave, the scent of it cloying and sweet and oh so familiar. It sends another dizzying clench of arousal through him that he diligently ignores, clicking his tongue as he kneels down before him. The choked gurgle that bubbles up from Dante's throat makes him smile, watching the single blue eye that hadn't been utterly destroyed tremble and search the sky above aimlessly.

The Rabbit prods Dante onto his back, reaching out and seizing a handful of matted bloody white hair, staining his glove in the process.

So close, but not close enough.

“It seems I still need to push you harder… son of Sparda.”

…

“Did he transform, boss?” Agni asks as both he and Rudra step out of the tunnel, covered in tire skid marks. They're soon joined by Echidna and Cavaliere, the former slithering up from the adjacent highway and the latter flying down above the tunnel. Echidna idly snarls as she rubs burnt rubber off of her face, and Cavaliere is as staunch and menacing as ever, expectation heavy in his gaze

The White Rabbit releases the back of Dante's collar, having dragged him over to the van, a lovely streak of blood left on the pavement. He turns to his underlings with an air of impatience, standing up straighter.

“Unfortunately, no. The sapiens planted an explosive inside of him and it activated at a most inopportune time.” Which wouldn't have been a problem if he was surrounded by competence. If they had been able to force him to trigger sooner, they would have this wrapped up by now. “Regardless, we move onto phase two. Plasma should be wrapping up on his end of things right now.” 

He reaches up to the amulet, pulling it off his neck and dragging his fingernail along the circumference of it. Sure enough, he meets an unnatural raised bump along one side. A cloaked tracking device. Predictable. 

He peels off the small chip, flicking it to Cavaliere, who catches it with a growl.

“Take this back to base.” The Rabbit says, nodding for Echidna to join him. “You already know what to do. Quickly now. DARKCOM will not be far behind.” 

Cavaliere and Echidna immediately move to follow orders. Sirens are wailing in the distance, and the Rabbit would like to get out of here sooner rather than later. He seizes Dante's scruff once more, tossing him up into the back of the van and smirking at his remaining two generals.

“Agni, Rudra– you're with me. We have a plane to catch.”

The only reason he's accompanying them to the air base is because he doesn't trust either of them to drive a van. He pulls into the lot and comes to a stop, eyeing the smoke coming off of the building and part of the runway. The plane hijacking was going well, it seemed. 

The Rabbit steps out of the driver's seat and into the back, indicating with his chin for Agni and Rudra to move. 

“Go up ahead and ensure that things are in order, would you?” He folds his arms behind his back, malicious gaze settling on where Dante's unconscious form is propped against one wall. “I'm going to make sure our special guest is still with us.”

The back of the van opens and the twin demon brothers do as they're told without protest, though he hears them ribbing each other about ‘Rabbit’s private alone time’ as they leave. He shuts the door behind them, leaving himself and Dante alone. 

He hasn't really had a chance to become thoroughly acquainted with the half-breed yet, and he'd like to take a closer look at him. Dante's face has partially reconstituted itself by this point, though it's still a bloody mess, and he doesn't stir at all as the Rabbit approaches and lowers himself to his knees before him.

It's uncanny gazing into the face of the other son of Sparda, but they are twins after all. Nelo Angelo preferred to hide behind the armor, so there is an almost candid vulnerability in seeing the mirror image of Vergil's face so helpless. The scent of his blood calls to him, heady and intoxicating, feeding a profane appetite carved into the very hollow of his chest, where his heart had once been.

He wonders where their similarities end.

The Rabbit cups the side of Dante's jaw that isn't hanging in pieces, leaning in with a dark fascination.

It's not so much a kiss as it is a clinical intrusion of tongue. His thumb pulls Dante's lower jaw down, and he slowly and methodically licks into his mouth. His tongue pushes against the other man's heavy and unresponsive one, gradually dragging along the inside of his teeth to the roof of his mouth.

Smelling that blood is nothing in comparison to tasting it. An involuntary groan rises in his throat, and he becomes very aware of the fact he is kneeled over one of Dante's legs, almost straddling it. The heat that had pooled between his legs had only diminished– dampened, but it hadn't truly left. The proximity reignites it, and the Rabbit once again feels a burning coil of arousal sink down to the deepest parts of him, twice as strong this time.

His hips pitch forward only slightly, affording himself the barest minimum of contact against Dante's thigh. He clenches, the texture of Dante's rough pants providing some friction through his own trousers, his cunt throbbing almost painfully. It would probably only take a few hitches against him to undo the tight knot of tension aching low inside of his abdomen.

But his lip curls. This traitor-spawn doesn't even deserve being used to rub off on.

The Rabbit pulls his mouth back from Dante's, rolling his own tongue around his mouth, sampling the copper flavour. So familiar, and yet not at all. Exactly what he needs, and yet not when he needs it. So much like Vergil, and yet very little more than a pitiful shadow.

“If I didn't have other business to attend to, I'd personally see to it that you reach your full potential.” The Rabbit's throaty purr fills the mere inch or so of space between them, his breath hot and metallic. His grip tightens on Dante's jaw, and he delights in the quiet, unconscious hitch of breath it pulls from him. “But I have a fun game in mind for you, Dante, and my men will ensure you're properly cared for.”

With some reluctance, he climbs off of Dante and stands up, folding his arms behind his back once more as he turns away from him.

“We'll just have to see how you measure up to your brother now, won't we?”

Chapter Text

“You were never a demon at all. Just a man wearing a screwed up bunny mask to hide an even more screwed up human face… that has a bunch of weird tubes sticking out of it.” 

Dante scowls at the man held up only by the string of the amulet, more confused than anything. One minute he was facing a demon rabbit, next minute he was dangling a frail human over the river. Point A and point B didn’t seem to connect very well, but he supposes the important thing is that it was the end of the line for this guy. “To be fair, I can see why no one considered that.”

The man breathes heavily, blood streaming down his face. He peers back at Dante, resentment burning in his eyes.

“I gave you the chance to end this. I want you to remember that.” His lips curve in a malicious smile, a promise of nothing good. “When what will happen next happens, I want you to remember… that you could have stopped it.”

Is that some kind of a bluff? He's out of demons to throw at them and there's nowhere else for him to go. “What do you me–”

Force Edge gleams in the moonlight as it slices upwards between them. Suddenly, the man's weight drops and Dante has to catch himself before he loses his balance. He watches him plummet off the roof, disappearing into the dark waters below.

Well, one more place for him to go.

Oh no you don't–

He pulls his jacket off and tosses it to Lady. “Hold this!”

“What the fu–!” The red leather slaps her in the face and he doesn't hear the rest of what she says because he's already diving off of the roof.

The White Rabbit has been all but begging for his attention, rigging this sick game up purely to get his blood and amulet from him, tormenting him every step of the way. Now he thinks he can just weasel out of his grip and disappear into the river? Not fucking likely.

The cold, filthy water engulfs him. Dante glances around, hardly able to see anything in the gloom. When he spots the faintest flicker of red light moving away in the distance, he swims after it without a second thought, cutting through the current like a knife.

There you are.

The current rapidly carries them both downstream several hundred meters. Dante breaks the surface once more, gasping for air and grabbing the edge of the dock. He pulls himself up, spotting a trail of river water, blood and footprints leading into a service alley ahead.

Dante finds the Rabbit standing over some sort of toad-like demon, the poor thing missing its lower half yet still dragging itself along. Snarling, Dante reaches out and seizes the Rabbit by the shoulder.

“Did you think it was gonna be that easy?” 

The surprise in the Rabbit’s eyes is short lived as Dante throws him against the nearest wall. The Force Edge thrums with angry violet energy once more, but Dante seizes both of the Rabbit’s wrists, shoving them to the brick and trapping him against the side of the alley. He's extra harsh on the arm holding that damn sword, bones creaking under his fingers, but the other man's grip is like iron.

“Hey, drop it–!”

The Rabbit grins at him, savage and wild, his voice as jubilant as ever as he pushes back against him. “Dante! So nice of you to join me. Have you decided you want to cooperate yet?”

A knee suddenly comes up and kicks Dante between the legs with such force he sees stars for a moment.

“OWW–whatthefuck–!” 

The Rabbit smashes his forehead into Dante's face, causing him to release him and stagger back, blood streaming down his nose. Dante recovers quickly when he sees the deranged gleam in the Rabbit’s eyes, the insane bastard already angling for another stab with the Force Edge, going right for drawing more of his blood.

Moving in close so he doesn't have the room to follow through on the swing, Dante repays him in full by driving his foot into his middle and sending him right through that brick wall.

There's a loud crash and a grunt from the Rabbit, the space opening up into some sort of back room in a warehouse. Dante steps through the broken wall and finds the Rabbit on his back, struggling to recover. The other man gives a harsh cough, breathing heavily, his bitter gaze trained on Dante as he approaches. His gloved hand clenches around Force Edge again and he tries to slash upwards, but Dante brings his boot down on his wrist.

“Nah, we're not doing that anymore.” 

Dante's starting to get the sense this guy really doesn't know when to quit. The tubes have fallen out of his nose by this point, blood streaming from both nostrils and from his lips, the weird device at his chest is sparking, and he's clearly struggling to orient himself again– yet he's still fighting. He makes an attempt to throw Dante off and get up, but Dante merely climbs on top of him. He seizes the wrist holding Force Edge, trapping the other against him under his knee, and reaches to his holster to draw his gun.

The Rabbit goes still as the barrel presses up under his chin. He seems to relent slightly, or at the very least realizes he isn't going anywhere anymore, but he still looks completely unbothered by the threat, watching Dante curiously.

“Tell me what you mean by ‘what happens next’.” Dante glares back at him.

The Rabbit smirks, tilting his chin back as if inviting him to pull the trigger. “Do it and find out, Dante.”

A growl builds in Dante's throat, his patience running out. Considering how crazy this guy is, it really is hard to tell if he's bullshitting or not. Dante changes his aim slightly and shoots him through the shoulder instead. The Rabbit gives a yelp, his blood spraying across the dusty floor.

“What the hell even are you…?” Dante watches the wound slowly seal up, that heart mechanism in his chest pumping faster. He levels the gun with the Rabbit’s head once more. “Let's try this again, tell me what you meant– unless it was some stupid bluff. If that dough-faced little toad was your Hail Mary, he's gone now. You're mine. Start. Talking.”

Dante has no idea what that creature was, but he'll just have to deal with it later. It can wait.

The Rabbit has the audacity to appear smug, like all of this is a damn game. “And why would I do that? You'll kill me if I don't?” 

“I should after the shit you pulled today!” Dante snaps back. “You are out of your goddamn mind! Do you know how many people you hurt?”

“A drop in the ocean compared to the lives DARKCOM have claimed.” The Rabbit says, his expression darkening. “However many I've killed today, the Lieutenant and DARKCOM have killed far more for far longer. Innocents. Refugees fleeing their broken world.”

Dante narrows his eyes. He slips his gun back in his holster so he can grab the Rabbit by the front of his suit, lift him up, and slam him back down. “You’re just as shitty as they are. You used your own people like meat shields. You don’t get to play the same game the same way with people’s lives and then throw her under the bus!”

A sharp laugh bursts from the Rabbit, the humorless sound echoing around the space.

"If you want to align yourself with that, be my guest, but don't act surprised when she sticks a knife in your back, Hellblood." His voice rises to a mockery of Lady's inflection, and he seems to revel in the way it gets under Dante's skin. “What do you think happens after you get rid of me? Or is it that you think you can turn me in? Are you expecting a nice little reward from DARKCOM's elite?”

Dante's jaw clenches. He's not stupid. He already knows Lady is only tolerating him as long as the Rabbit is the bigger threat. DARKCOM have already made it obvious he's just an asset at best, and they're not gonna stop until they get the amulet sitting around his neck.

Something stirs beneath his skin. Earlier, that something had taken over his body– his own demonic power that had been sleeping inside of him. Dante hasn't been able to shake the feeling of hunger since then. Hunger for more chaos and carnage, to tear apart anyone that had ever wronged him. When he thinks about DARKCOM, all he can think about is the way they imprisoned him and took away the one keepsake he had left of his mother.

“No.” He utters. “Not after today.”

The Rabbit hums in contemplation. “You’d make a promising test subject for them, if they somehow don't find you dangerous enough to dispose of first.”

And then there's this asshole. Leveraging people's lives against him just so he'd devil trigger– whatever that meant. He's been the catalyst to everything that's gone wrong in Dante's life lately, and now he has the audacity to lie there beneath him and look like he was still totally in control of everything. Dante should just tear him apart, bluff or no bluff.

His teeth sharpen in his mouth, the air suddenly tasting of brimstone.

“Shut up!” 

The Rabbit’s eyes flash in keen interest, his voice dropping to a low purr that scrapes at something deep inside Dante. "Let it out. Show me it." 

Does he have a death wish or something? Dante leans in, exhaling steam, lightning crackling through his veins. He doesn't understand it at all. All this effort put into this insane scheme, and he's willing to give up right here– like he wanted to be caught all along. 

“What is your goddamn probl–”

The Rabbit suddenly closes the distance between them and seals their mouths together, blanking out Dante's mind. 

What the–

The Rabbit’s blood hits his senses harder than any blow he could have thrown at him– a heady metallic concoction of demon and human. A patchwork of different flavours all intertwined with the unmistakable sweetness of humanity, uncanny and overwhelming and wrong.

Dante tastes it on his tongue when the Rabbit pushes his own into his mouth. It sinks somewhere deep inside him, drawing forth that same demonic voice sleeping in the back of his mind, scales rippling up and down his arms and neck as his scleras bleed red. Beneath all the different contrasting notes, there is something so… familiar buried within it– something that hooks around his heart. Just a trace, yet enough to have Dante shoving his tongue past the Rabbit’s lips and nearly choking him to try and uncover more of it.

Between harsh passes of their mouths, the Rabbit sinks his teeth into Dante's lower lip, and the copper tang of his own blood causes Dante to remember who he's kissing.

He pulls back, air rushing between their mouths, and then Dante– slaps him?

The Rabbit’s head snaps to the side, a low chuckle sounding in his throat, the red mark on his cheek quickly fading. He sighs in a way that feels ironic, like the futility of his situation is finally dawning on him. “I still can't convince you to bleed for me.”

Dante stares down at him incredulously, hand still frozen in the follow through of that slap. What the hell was he even planning to do with the blood he'd nipped, when he was pinned down like this?

Dante flexes his fingers, his teeth sharp points in his mouth. “Not a chance.”

The Rabbit slowly turns his head back towards him, his dark grey eyes regarding him with the apathy of a suicidal man staring down an approaching storm.

"Well, if we're on the same page about something, then let it be this–” The Rabbit tenses up for a moment – one final twitch of resistance – and then Dante feels him relent. His body relaxes, limbs going slack, his grip on the Force Edge loosening. “You won. I'm helpless and trapped beneath you. Claim your prize."

Because Dante doesn't trust him for a second, he rips the sword out of his grip and turns, hurtling it with great force back through the opening in the building. The Force Edge embeds deep in the brick wall beyond, safely out of reach of the Rabbit and whatever he intended to do with it. That done, he turns his attention back to him.

Helpless. Trapped. Your prize. There is something so calculated about the Rabbit’s choice of words, like he'd picked them specifically to worm their way deep into Dante's psyche. It appeals to the thing sleeping deep in his blood, crimson scales crawling up his arms, a red film drawing over his vision as the transformation consumes him.

“So that pathetic creature really was your Hail Mary.” Dante's lip curls in a sneer. “Good.” 

His hand seizes the Rabbit by the jaw, claws digging into his skin. If this man wanted his attention so badly, then he fucking had it. Dante is gone, and the beast that fills out his flesh has no mercy for this pitiful sack of meat that thought it could get away with toying with him.

“You're mine.”

The Rabbit’s face betrays nothing– no fear, not even the slightest hint of trepidation. He looks almost bored, if anything, his indifferent countenance almost daring him to try harder if he truly wanted to pull any emotion from him.

"Look at you, baring your fangs at me. Aren't you glad I pulled you from your willful ignorance of your heritage and allowed you to unlock your true potential?” His eyes gleam dark as he holds Dante's gaze, like Dante is the one caught in his claws and not the other way around. “On the contrary, Dante, you are mine."

“Says the guy pinned underneath me, about to be my bitch.” Dante's wings flare out, bathing them both in fiery light, as if to ward off anything else from his catch. He leans in, jerking the Rabbit’s head to the side and exposing his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. Beneath the layer of river water and tainted blood, there is an unmistakable hit of something else– anticipation, endorphins, arousal.

Dante should be disgusted, yet all he wants to do is peel back the Rabbit’s skin and find out how deep those desires went. “I can smell you. This was really what you were after the whole time, huh? All that rabbit shit was just the foreplay?”

The Rabbit smirks, another chuckle sounding in his throat. “Well, I may as well enjoy myself where I can.”

Despite the heavy mechanical sound of the device pumping demon blood through his system, the Rabbit doesn't so much as give even a hint of fear. Dante exhales steam against his flesh, feeling his pulse jump under his lips, suddenly infuriated by the lack of response. Releasing his jaw, Dante's hand moves up to seize a fistful of dark hair instead, yanking his head back.

Dante sinks his teeth into his neck. There's no gentleness to it; it's a brutal and decisive claim, the Rabbit’s flesh yielding to him like the softness of ripe fruit. The choked cry that's torn from the Rabbit’s throat is almost as sweet as the cocktail of blood pumping through his system. He hears the man keen and tense up, sucking air through his teeth, the first real sign that he's truly lost control. 

His claws shred through the front of the Rabbit’s trousers, exposing him to the open air, and the scent of arousal goes from strong to overpowering. The Rabbit arches up against him, hands clutching his shoulders. Dante wrenches his teeth out of him and pulls back, enthralled with the way the puncture wounds struggle to close.

“I knew you were getting off on this,” Dante sneers, dragging the pad of his middle finger down the Rabbit’s dripping folds, feeling him shudder.

“Like I'm the only one.” The Rabbit’s voice is slightly breathless as he returns the favour, reaching down to the slit between Dante's legs. It's like he already knows what's going to happen, his fingers moving with a practiced ease as he strokes the soft plating, coaxing it apart.

A thick appendage of ridiculous proportion slides out of Dante's body, glowing the same burning colour as the rest of his demonic form. It drips slick, steaming fluid all over the Rabbit’s glove, his hand encircling it and making Dante's hips give an involuntary hitch. The bastard stares at it with that same proud grin, like he's in on a private joke.

And because Dante can't stand that misplaced look of self satisfaction on his face, he seizes both of the Rabbit’s wrists in one of his own and shoves his arms to the ground above his head. His free hand wanders down, two fingers pushing inside of him.

He plays nice with his claws, keeping them retracted, which is probably more than this filth deserves. It's less so for his pleasure and more for the sheer sake of hearing him break composure and groan. There's a satisfaction in ripping anything from him that doesn't come wrapped in that infuriating velvety-smug demeanor of his. The Rabbit’s walls are tight, stretching and clenching around his fingers as though they want to draw him deeper, like he really is aching to be conquered.

“That's it. Good.” The Rabbit purrs, the praise hitting two very different long neglected parts inside of Dante. The Rabbit seems to know exactly the kind of weapon he wields with his voice, and he doesn't seem to have any shame as Dante curls his fingers and strokes the front of his inner walls.

“Just like that, Dante,” the Rabbit openly moans, sucking air through his teeth as Dante's fingers pump in and out of him. “You're doing so well. Yessss.” 

Dante finds himself annoyed just as much as he wants to pull more of those noises from the Rabbit– to reduce him down to nothing but pitiful whimpering, until he couldn't even think about forming words anymore. After working him open just enough that fitting a huge demon cock into him probably wouldn't tear him in half, Dante pulls his fingers out and thrusts them into the Rabbit’s mouth instead.

He pushes his fingertips nearly to the back of the Rabbit’s throat, hearing him choke. The other man briefly looks surprised, irritation stirring behind his gaze, but he obediently sucks his own juices off of Dante's fingers nonetheless, glaring up at him all the while. Dante's lip curls.

“I can't stand anyone that runs their mouth more than I do.” The Rabbit is excessively noisy as he drinks himself down, and it stokes something dark and feral inside of Dante. A deep growl rumbles through his chest. “I'm going to ruin you.”

A shudder runs through the Rabbit– though it seems to be the furthest thing from fear. When Dante finally pulls his fingers back out, a string of saliva connecting them to the Rabbit’s lips, the Rabbit is breathing heavily. His voice drops to a low cadence– rough and very intrigued.

“Will you? How far are you willing to go?” His thighs shift further apart. “Show me.”

Something snaps in Dante's brain and he loses a bit more of himself to the fire coursing through his veins. The display of submission (or what Dante, in his current state of mind, perceives as submission). The blood. The hatred. All of it, kindling for the creature sleeping inside him. An offering. An outlet. His devil sees not a man, but flesh to be subjugated.

He seizes the Rabbit and flips him onto his front, a claw coming down on the back of his neck, forcing his back into an arch. Dante bears over him, hiking his hips up, the tip of his cock dragging a burning trail along the Rabbit’s inner thigh. For a while, he just holds him like that, considering the way the Rabbit’s breathing catches, how his gloves hands brace against the dusty floor, the slight almost imperceptible tremor that runs through him. It’s not quite fear, but it's not quite anticipation either.

It fills Dante's devil up all the same.

The Rabbit notices the pause, a hint of impatience colouring his words. “Why hold back now…?”

Dante exhales a jagged sound very much like a laugh, but not quite. What a fool, mistaking him savoring his victory for hesitation. He curls over the Rabbit, growling close to his ear.

“Beg.”

“For what?” The Rabbit snorts. “You to be gentle?”

Dante nudges his tip closer, between the Rabbit’s fluttering folds, feeling the opening to that maddening heat clench at him like it’s trying to draw him in. Maybe some part of him realizes how fucked up this is and wants to be given an out, a moral line not to cross.

“For me to stop.”

It's the Rabbit’s turn to laugh, once again sounding like he's in on a secret. “Oh, Dante. You think you're the biggest I've had?”

His casual mockery severs the last thread of his devil's patience. Dante sheaths inside of him in one cruel, decisive push, all the way to the hilt, every molten inch of him. As a human, he and the Rabbit had been relatively close in stature, but in demon form? He easily dwarfs the Rabbit, the other man feeling small beneath him. Frail.

Especially when he writhes, the air punched out of him, clawing at the ground as his body works to accommodate Dante’s absurd size. The sound he makes is intoxicating– agonized and fulfilled all at once, another breathless chuckle tumbling out of him. Dante's grip on the nape of his neck tightens, claws running into his hair and pressing him down harder as he pulls back out and buries inside him again, wasting no time giving the Rabbit exactly what he had asked for.

He quickly builds a merciless pace, putting an end to the Rabbit’s laughter and leaving him unable to think of anything else but the cock driving into him. Dante hopes the Rabbit can feel it in the back of his fucking throat. The gasping moan he draws out of him feeds his demon– soothes some of the burning rage that had made a home inside the hollow pit of his soul. This is his victory. He deserves this.

The tight, wet heat straining around him is divine, as is the slick noise of his length sliding in and out of him, every thrust punctuated by a brutal slap. The Rabbit’s mouth hangs open, Dante grinding his cheek harshly against the floor. 

You are mine.

He slows his pace, only slightly, just to hear the Rabbit whimper when the ridges of his cock drag over somewhere nice inside of him.

“You like that?” Dante sneers, paying particular attention to that angle. “Who belongs to who now? Tell me!”

The Rabbit might have said something, but Dante presses back in up to the hilt, driving the breath from him again. A ragged moan is torn from him and he presses his forehead into the floor, his dark hair spilling around him and obscuring his face. He begins clenching around Dante's cock, squirming beneath him like the prey he is. Dante only wishes he could see his face as he breaks.

“Yeah, that's what I thought–”

He fucks the Rabbit through his orgasm, until the gasps of pleasure become groans overstimulation and he tries to pull himself away. Dante doesn't allow him to, holding him in place as he buries himself deep inside of him and sinks his teeth into the back of his neck to mark him once more. The Rabbit muffles another cry, but ceases his useless resistance, shuddering beneath him again.

Dante pulls out, but he's far from done. He turns the Rabbit back over, enjoying how utterly wrecked he looks with sweat making his hair stick to his face and slick running down his thighs. Dante seizes him beneath the knees and folds his legs up against his chest, aligning himself with his pussy once more. It doesn't even seem possible that he should fit inside of him, and yet the Rabbit accepts him to the hilt again, making a gutted sound as he does so.

Dante doesn't allow him to catch his breath. His wings flare over them both, red light bathing them. The devil within fucks like a mad beast in rut, all other sensation slipping away, until blinding white hot pleasure blankets his mind.

…

By the time he's finally come back to himself, the Rabbit is limp beneath him. He's still alive, his breathing ragged and uneven, head turned to one side with his eyes closed, his eyelids fluttering. Whether he's still conscious or not is unclear.

The red fog peels back, his devil trigger disintegrating into smoke. Dante's eyes widen as the horror of what he had just done sinks in.

He hurriedly pulls out, and the way his spend pours out of the Rabbit after him has him shuddering in both revulsion and lingering pleasure. He's going to be sick. The Rabbit is a horrible person and Dante despises him for all the pain he's caused, but he's still a person.

How could anyone deserve something like this? How could Dante have even been capable…?

Sparda had wanted to protect humanity. Maybe Dante doesn't truly know anything about his father or what he was actually like, but this… this can't have been what he would have stood for.

The Rabbit stirs with a groan. Dante watches him, frozen in shock, hardly knowing what to do or say. What the hell did one even do after fucking their worst enemy out of their mind?

“I…” Dante's hands stall, hovering over him with uncertainty.

The Rabbit slowly – so slowly it feels like torture – draws himself up into a sitting position, bleary eyes blinking open. For a moment, they stare at nothing, and he looks so hollow and lost that – against all logic and reason – Dante wants to comfort him.

Then they narrow, sharpening back to their usual coldness. He turns his head to meet his gaze once more, and somehow the gentleness of his voice is more haunting than anything else.

“Yes, Dante. This is what you are, a savage creature born of power and privilege, just like your father. Taking what you want, denying the weak of their freedom, consequences be damned.” 

Another wave of nausea sweeps over Dante. No, that wasn't– That wasn't fair. Not after everything.

And yet, he can only grimace and turn his head away, unable to muster up any sort of defense. A hand reaches out and snatches his jaw in a sudden bruising grip, forcing eye contact between them again.

“Look at me. Look at what you've done. Tell me how good it felt to finally let go and embrace what you really are.”

His words make it obvious that all of this had been another setup, and Dante had fallen right for it again.

“No–” He jerks his head out of the Rabbit’s grip. “I'm not– I'm not a monster.” 

“Aren't you?” The Rabbit tilts his head, unmoved and cruel. “Is this your definition of mercy? Why spare me at all? Why not cut me down like you've done every other demon I've sent your way?” He scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “They were merely following my orders after all. Does my humanity truly give me that much grace in your eyes?”

Dante shakes his head. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He's not playing any more psychological head games with the Rabbit.

“Stop. Just stop. Holy shit, man, value your life a little more! Let me help you– actually help you–”

“Help me?” The Rabbit repeats incredulously, actually taken by surprise for a moment. The shock that flits through his expression is short lived, however, and his next words drip venom. “There is no helping me. I'm dead already. You can only help those trapped on the other side of the wall, and you've already refused.”

“That's bullshit.” Dante refuses to believe it. There has to be some middle ground that doesn't involve getting millions of people killed, and there has to be medical assistance for whatever crazy shit he had done to his body, yet the Rabbit seems so convinced otherwise. His complete lack of self preservation is as haunting as it is insufferable. “There has to be some way to…”

All emotion drains from the Rabbit’s face. He closes off completely, his eyes like two black pits down into a bone chilling nothingness. 

“You are just like Vergil,” he says, and Dante doesn't even know how it's possible to put so much contempt into just five words. “A pity.”

Dante's mind goes blank. “What?”

The Rabbit’s arm falls to his side and something rolls out of his open palm, clinking faintly on the floor. Some sort of vial tipped with a needle– empty. Dante hadn't even seen when he'd injected himself with that. What even is that? It smells like blood.

… Familiar blood.

He watches him warily, unsure what to expect. “What do you mean I'm ‘just like Vergil’…?”

The Rabbit’s scarred lips slowly upturn into a smirk, and the air drops several degrees.

“Who do you think gave me the amulet?”

Dante can hardly process the words before a hand abruptly seizes him by the throat, choking off whatever he was going to say. The sudden strength sets off alarm bells in Dante's head. The Rabbit wrenches him close, his voice dangerously low.

“Here it is, my Hail Mary.”

Dante is thrown out of the side of the warehouse and back into the alley, smashing against the brick wall next to where the Force Edge is embedded. His vision swims for a moment, and he can only watch in complete shock at the scene unfolding before him.

The Rabbit rises to his full height, blue scales bursting along his skin, transforming his body into a mirror image of Dante's own demonic form. It's not a complete transformation, but it's enough to be unmistakable. Wings flare out from his back, horns rising from his head, fingers tapering off into claws. His face remains mostly human, though his eyes burn a deep cyan as they spear right through Dante.

“Blood from Vergil.” His voice carries with it a demonic echo now. He raises a hand and stares down at it, almost as if he can't believe what he's seeing either.

“That's impossible–” Dante leans heavily on the wall, shaking his head. It has to be another trick. He had seen Vergil die. “You're lying!”

But he feels his power– Vergil's power. It pulls at his senses like a magnet, filling out some long empty part of him. Even if it was his blood, it had to have been stolen off of him. None of this makes any sense.

The Rabbit laughs, like Dante's thoughts are bare to him.

“No, Dante, your other half is very much alive. He's the reason I've survived this long. His blood flows in my veins.” He steps forward, and the empty vial crunches under his foot. “I was saving this dose for the barrier… but you've forced my hand.”

He launches forward with a speed that doesn't belong to him– stolen from his dead brother. Dante reacts more on instinct than anything else, throwing himself to the side as the Rabbit’s fist buries in the brick, the wall exploding. The Rabbit seizes the handle of the Force Edge and wrenches it out, snarling blue steam as he turns and tears towards him.

Dante's transformation takes him over once more, keeping him from getting impaled while his mind still struggles to process everything. The Rabbit slams into him, launching them both up into the night sky, the city and the river below quickly growing distant. Dante holds the Rabbit’s wrist away from him, keeping him from running him through with that sword. They grapple together, pushing and pulling, but Dante hardly feels any of it, still reeling at the notion that Vergil might be alive.

Somewhere between the snarling and the hissing and the slashing of claws, some measure of sense returns to Dante. He sharply twists the Rabbit’s arm, snapping his wrist and hearing him cry out, and the Force Edge plummets from his grip.

The sword meets the surface of the river and sinks like a rock, swiftly disappearing beneath the churning black waters. Dante doesn't care. It's an old weapon from his dad that was way more trouble than it was worth. He cares that he apparently has living family members left.

The Rabbit’s expression falls open for a moment as he watches the sword disappear, his last hope slipping away– and then he turns his gaze to Dante once more, and there is nothing but death in his eyes.

“You'll regret that–”

His wings beat, propelling him forward. Still trapped within their lock, in a split second, he has closed the distance between them and buried his teeth in Dante's neck. With a brutal wrench of his head, he tears out Dante's throat, spraying blood into the air in a steep arc. Dante's vision blacks out. There's the sensation of falling, the rushing of wind in his ears. He feels the both of them smash into the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, coming to a tumbling halt atop it. He lies there and stares up at the sky, listening to the sickening wet sound of his skin knitting back together, his vision wavering in and out.

The Rabbit staggers back over to him from where he had landed, his form flickering. The devil trigger superimposed onto him is powerful, but it's also taking an obvious toll on his body, the mechanism on his chest sparking with exertion. The Rabbit doesn't seem to pay it any mind, his eyes blazing with hatred and remaining fixed on Dante.

“You could have bled. You could have ended this.” Breathing raggedly, he steps over Dante with a leg on either side of him and drops down to straddle him. “Why do you fight so hard for this world? For people who hate you– who would kill you and everyone you love without a second thought? You're a demon. That is all you will ever be to them!” 

He reaches out, seizing Dante's jaw with the hand that isn't broken. There's misery in his eyes and in his voice, like he's speaking about Dante just as much as he is speaking about himself.

“And you can't run from that fact forever. Eventually, you will come to realize you are welcomed by no one. An unlovable orphan.”

A gurgle rises in Dante's throat– maybe a laugh if he were capable of it currently. Yeah, like he doesn't already know he's a complete outsider. Dante can hardly muster the energy to meet the Rabbit’s poison anymore– not with Vergil flooding all of his senses. The Force Edge is gone and his plan has collapsed, and that's all that matters. He can be as mad about it as he wants but Dante still isn't going to let him burn the world just because he’s hurting.

The Rabbit tilts his head and considers him again. “Oh, but you won't kill me now either. Not while I wear his skin. Is that it?”

Maybe he's right. Dante doesn't know. He's just so tired. His body can only react when the Rabbit grinds himself down atop him, the plating between his legs sliding apart, the contact electrifying and wrong. Some part of Dante just doesn't care– has been alone for so long that he would tolerate anything that would bring him closer to his brother, even slightly.

He doesn't know if Vergil is truly alive. The Rabbit could be lying merely to screw with him, and he's not sure what's worse– Vergil being dead with some of his blood having ended up in the Rabbit’s hands somehow, or his brother being alive and willingly working with this monster.

He doesn't want to think about anything anymore.

When the Rabbit’s slick cunt drags over his pulsing cock, Dante can't resist the pull of it. His devil groans, hisses, wants to claim him again. His claws sink into the Rabbit’s hips and the other man clamps down hard on his destroyed throat, pinning him harshly to the ground and crushing away whatever air he managed to draw. The Rabbit sneers, pointedly controlling the pace as he sinks down on him, the glowing red of Dante's flesh disappearing into the soft blue of his pussy. All the way to the hilt, white hot walls clenching around him so perfectly, dragging them both into a harrowing ecstasy. 

“How does it feel to be reunited with your brother?”

Dante can't breathe, can't think– helpless to the fire that has consumed them both. He chokes out a howl at the sky– of grief and rage, or perhaps the last lingering vestiges of his sanity– and surrenders himself to his demon once more.

…

“You should have killed me.”

The Rabbit glares down at Dante, every salacious roll of his hips an act of revenge– branding himself deep into Dante's psyche. If he couldn't have victory, then he could at least have this. He wants Dante to remember him long after he's gone, so that every time he transforms, he thinks of this– what it had cost, what legacy it upheld. 

He hadn't honestly expected Vergil's blood to be this effective, or for him to be able to assume a devil trigger form. Perhaps the proximity to Dante had merely activated it. Demon twins are born of the same soul after all, beholden to the horrific whims of their blood connection. The Rabbit knows this, and he uses it– wields it like a weapon against the half-breed trapped beneath him.

Dante enjoys this– or at least, some part of him does. He barely seems to be conscious anymore as the Rabbit rides him, sunk deep into himself. Blood trickles out of his mouth and soaks over the Rabbit’s hand where he's grasping his ruined throat. So much blood, all of what he needs– yet utterly useless now, with the Force Edge sitting at the bottom of the river.

He could dive in after it, but he knows he wouldn't make it back up. This form is already fading, sapphire scales burning away like smoke. His body can't maintain it for very long. 

Value your life a little more.

What a ridiculous sentiment, spoken like someone born into privilege, who still had a reason to live at all. He and Vergil are the same: self centered and vain, whose altruism only went as far as their egos. Foolishly sparing him when he wanted nothing more than to finally be granted rest, forcing him to carry this burden.

Fine then. Dante could have it his way, but the Rabbit would make him regret it for the rest of his life.

There's very little pleasure to be wrought from him anymore. The Rabbit shudders with a weaker orgasm, and then he comes to a stop. He pulls off of him the next moment, leaving Dante aching– a final act of spite. Releasing his throat, he stands up and gazes out at the horizon, at the world that had rejected him. A world that he despised so thoroughly.

His eyes narrow as he watches the search lights of DARKCOM helicopters comb across the river in the distance, brought back to reality somewhat. While he wasted precious time tearing Dante apart, those barbarians were still out there reaping the rewards of Makai's suffering. It's a shame that Dante couldn't see that, but if he truly wanted to align himself with them, it would catch up to him eventually.

The Rabbit breathes heavily, his body feeling weighed down by lead suddenly, his stolen power slipping away. He presses a hand against his heart, feeling it struggle beneath his palm. He's living on borrowed time. His body is broken, abused, and violated. He's out of resources and options.

And in spite of all of that, he's still here. 

“Maybe I will take your advice, son of Sparda.” He turns his attention to Dante once more, an ashen smile spreading across his face. He could adjust the dosage to account for the rapid evolution his body had undergone, rebuild his resources, and live to see DARKCOM fall another day.

Vergil wouldn't like that he had failed. He might not even let him live after this. Even so…

Perhaps it's not the end just yet.

“Until then, ta~”

The Rabbit’s wings flare out and he takes to the sky, using the last of his energy to disappear into the night.

…

The sun is rising by the time Mary manages to catch up to Dante. She finds him on the walkway of the bridge, sitting against the lattice grating, his elbows propped up on his knees. He doesn't look at her as she approaches, his eyes fixed on some far off point in the distance.

“Dante, what the hell happened?!” She glances around, but there's no blood, no body, no signs of a struggle at all. She knows she had seen two burning shapes streaking across the sky earlier, and one of them had to be Dante. “Where's the Rabbit?”

His expression doesn't change. In fact, he hardly reacts to her urgency at all, not even in jest. She would normally be impatient with gaining a handle on the situation, but the sheer dejection in his eyes is enough to give her pause. After a moment, he finally speaks.

“Am I a bad person, Lady?”

She squints at him. “What?”

“Does being part demon make me a bad person?”

“How the hell should I know…?” She shifts uncomfortably. What on earth did the Rabbit do to him? He doesn't look injured, so the scars must have been psychological– which definitely fits with the Rabbit’s modus operandi. “Where did this come from?”

“I think I did something I really shouldn't have, and I don't know if it was because of my demon side, or because I'm just… like that.” The emptiness in his eyes is haunting. “Maybe what the Rabbit said was right.”

“Dante, what are you talking about?” She frowns deeply at him. “You're worrying me…”

Dante blinks, seemingly remembering where he is. Mary then watches as he pulls that devil-may-care mask over his face and offers her one of those paper-thin smiles of his, which does nothing to dissuade her concern.

“Nothing! I'm fine.” Dante pushes himself to his feet, patting himself off. “Idunno where the Rabbit went. Don't really care either. The point is, he's gone, and the world hasn't been overrun by demons.” He rolls his neck, and then points at the spot near his clavicle. “The sword fell into the river somewhere. Amulet is right here though, safe and sound.”

She crosses her arms. “You think it's gonna stay that way? The Rabbit won't be the last to come after that thing.”

Sighing, he drifts to the opposite railing of the walkway and leans forward on it, gazing out at the city. “I've handled it up until now, no thanks to you DARKCOM assholes. The only reason it fell into his hands to begin with was because you guys stuck your nose in my business.”

“... Maybe you've got a point there.” She has to concede. This isn't exactly their standard operation, and she has… questions.

Her own encounter with the Rabbit is stuck in her mind. She doesn't want to think about it. She doesn't want to think about how he had really been that man from the warehouse all along, twisted and broken into something unrecognizable… She had done that to him.

Maybe he hadn't been wrong in his assessment of DARKCOM and their crimes, but he's still highly dangerous and they can't let him attempt to destroy the world again. What a terrible situation. She heaves a harsh sigh, knowing she needs to follow up on this. “Is the Rabbit dead or not?”

“Dunno.” Dante shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“Does it matter that a demon terrorist that tried to end the world is potentially on the loose again?”

Dante shoots her with a fingergun. “Hey, he turned out not to be a demon, apparently.”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you take this seriously?”

All the humour drains from Dante and he leans harder on the railing, his gaze dropping to the river below. “I am. He told me something important before he disappeared.” His eyes narrow in troubled determination. “My brother is alive. I have to go and find him.”

“Your… brother?” She repeats. There was another hybrid like Dante out there…?

“I'm not sure if it was true but… he said Vergil was working with him.” He continues, pushing away from the railing and starting off down the bridge. “Either way, now that I know he's out there, I'm going after him.” 

Mary just stands there incredulously for a beat, processing this new information, and then she hurries to catch up.

“You're going after the man that a terrorist told you he was working with…? Even if he is family, that's reckless as hell, even for you.” She deliberates for a moment, and then adds, “You shouldn't go alone, at least.”

“Yeah… maybe not.” He throws her a brief glance over his shoulder. “We made a half decent team up until now though, didn't we?” His eyes light up. “Oh! We could be partners! Like…”

He keeps talking as they continue down the walkway. She offers him a smile because yeah, they did make a good team, and she does hope that he would get to see his brother again someday.

Which makes it all the more painful that she can't just let him walk free. She has her orders. His blood is too dangerous. Leaving the amulet with him is too much left to chance. Especially now that she knows he has a brother, who could potentially be even more volatile than him. Her chest aches, but she shoves the feeling deep down, knowing what she has to do.

She waits until his attention is turned fully away from her. Behind her back, she uncaps the syringe as she slowly moves in close…