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after-witch · 3 years

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Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: Your “boyfriend” is having a rough day and he doesn’t appreciate you being such a difficult partner. If you can’t behave, maybe he can’t behave, either.

For request: a fic with Yandere hawks. Maybe he breaks/ ruins something extremely precious to his darling. Something that money just can’t buy.

Word Count: 1800ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped, abuse

The muffled sounds of Hawks returning to the apartment are all too familiar. Jingling of keys. Click, click, clicking of the locks. You know he'd love it if you greeted him at the door, like you used to do. Which is partially why you choose to remain in bed--though really, you've hardly left it since that morning, except to greedily drink water from the tap and use the restroom.

So it comes as no surprise when the door to your 'shared' bedroom opens and Keigo stands in the doorway, looking disapproving and sad and--you catch it, in the way his eyebrows furrow--slightly annoyed at the way you're in practically the same position as when he left: curled up on the bed, holding onto a pillow like a shield in front of you.

"Babe," he says. "We've talked about this. You need to get dressed after I leave. Did you even eat?" His tone is worried, oh so worried, but you see the way he looks around the room--at the mess, at his laundry on the floor where he dropped it--in distaste. "You could at least pick up when I'm gone. We both have responsibilities around the place, y’know."

You suck in some much-needed air and hold the pillow tighter.

"Then let me leave so I can live on my own and you don’t have to worry about me not cleaning up."

"Babe, you--." He clicks his tongue--stops himself from continuing on whatever road he was about to walk down. "Let's not start this again. We agreed to move in together. We agreed that I'd handle the bills, if you handled most of the housework."

The pillow is practically folded in half now, with the way you're clenching it. "Yes. Yes we did agreed to that. Until I realized that you're a fucking crazy person and you locked me up in this apartment for trying to leave." You stare directly at him, a challenge, daring him to contradict you again with his manipulative, deluded bullshit.

Instead, he sighs, and runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "Hey, okay, okay. I've had a really.... rough day." His voice is lower, almost gravely, and you believe him when he says it. Too bad you don't care anymore. "I'm really not up for a fight tonight. Let's call a truce."

When he says truce, your mind spins on a familiar reel. He wants a truce. He locked you up in this apartment and won't let you leave. He wants a truce. He made your friends and family believe you'd run off. He wants a truce?

The force of your thoughts has you scooching up in the bed and bracing your back against the headboard. You watch him--watching you--and wonder if he thinks you'll give in. Sometimes you do--it's inevitable, something you've thought long and hard about when you're in the apartment for hours upon end. You couldn't stand to live if you were constantly yelling at him, screaming, crying.

But you've had a few good naps, and you can stand it today.

"Fuck your truce," you spit, "and fuck your rough day--and fuck you."

His shoulders jerk in response to your words and fuck, is that satisfying. You've gotten to him. He wanted you to force a smile and say fine, whatever, what's for dinner. But you didn't. And now he can't go about the rest of his night in his deluded little fantasy that you're a willing spouse and he's going to have shitty dreams and hopefully an even shittier day tomorrow.

He's not at his limit, though, because he simply walks further into the bedroom. He stares at your dresser, the one pushed right up against his. You'd decorated it with your own knickknacks, back when you'd moved in--back when you were here willingly. Picture frames and personal mementos and jewelry that you don't bother wearing anymore.

He picks up a necklace, one he always complimented when you wore it out on dates--then increasingly, when you wore it on your evenings-in after he began insisting that you spend quality time in private instead, until finally you were trapped here and stubbornly refused to put it around your neck again.

"Angel, sweetheart, my sweet chickadee." He's tired. You're not--naps, good stuff. "Let's just both agree we're being… testy." He sets the necklace down and walks towards the bed. You flip your body around, bury your face down in the soft pillow so you can avoid looking at him. It’s childish, but you don’t care. "Then we can go make some dinner. Or we can order takeout, whatever you want. What do you say?"

His voice has an edge. You should be wary, you know this, yet your instinct for self-preservation lately has been smoothed away in favor of defiance, some meager inch of pride you can dig out for yourself.

And so you dig.

"Go. to. hell."

Something SLAMS--his fist, hard--on the headboard above you, just inches above the top of your head.

You don't have enough time to process what just happened before Keigo gets up, furious, feet pounding on the floor and voice hot with anger. You cringe at the tone, which has crossed from annoyed into flat-out pissed.

"How many other guys would put up with this shit? Huh?" You're half-listening, half-frozen.

You force yourself to turn over, keeping the pillow in front of you like a shield for more reasons than one, now.

"Most guys would expect to come home to a clean house and a good meal and a girlfriend who doesn't lay her ass in bed all day, crying about stupid shit."

You feel your own fury blooming in your chest. "I'm not your girlfriend--"

In a second, something shatters on the wall behind you, above you, throw just inches above your head. You crane your head down and you can just make out the mess on the floor, between the side table and the legs of the bed: jumbled shards of an ashtray, old and unused, something you'd stuck on the dresser ages ago when you were still allowed to have cigarettes. Before his jealousy turned to control, before he wouldn't let you leave--before you couldn't even smoke, because you couldn't open the windows.

You slowly turn your head to look at Keigo, and you stare at each other in silence, the air thick and hot between you. You can see his feathers bristling and your skin crawls at the thought of his feathers being the next thing to come flying towards you.

"I treat you like a princess," he says finally--and you scoff. You regret it immediately when you see his entire body, from his feet to his feathers, tense at the sound. You dug too deep.

"I treat you like a princess," he repeats, harsher, more strained. "And you don't appreciate it one fucking bit."

He picks up your phone, one of the few non-dusty items you've routinely set on your dresser in recent weeks. In a flash his arm moves, and you don't have time to say or do anything before it joins the ash tray on the floor. You glance and you can see the screen, black and shimmery, cracked into a hundred hairline cobwebs.

Don't move, you think. Don't move don't move.

He picks up a porcelain plate, thick with dust. A trinket from an antique mall Keigo took you on your... third date, you think. Or fourth. He trails his gloved finger along the dusty rim and wipes off the gunk on his pants.

"I clean for you," he says, voice low and spiteful. "You refuse to wash one fucking dish without trying to throw it at my head when my back is turned."

The plate is whipped so fast that it brushes your arm before it lands on the floor in a heap. At least its shards are on the floor, not your face.

"I cook for you. I buy you whatever takeout you want. You don't give so much as a nice little thank you."

You're waiting for something else to fly your way, waiting for the moment he finally says fuck it and hits you instead of the headboard, instead of the wall. But he's standing stock still now.

You're furious with him. You're scared of him. You want to reason with him. You don't know which feeling to deal with and so your words fall somewhere in between anger and terror and the need to placate.

"Keigo--" he looks at you when you say his name, and it's something. "Keigo, you kidnapped me. I don't want to be here. I--I broke up with you. We're not... we're not healthy together. Why can't you understand that?'

Tears are pricking at your eyes and his figure is a little blurry as he faces you with a strange calmness--strange, considering he just hurled hard, potentially sharp objects close to your face. You wipe your tears and his eyes are practically piercing into yours before he speaks.

"Take that back. Take that back right now."

You swallow against the harsh tightness pressing inside your throat.

"We're dating," he says, with the same low intensity. "We're very happy together."

You're so tired, now, so tired that it's hard to be angry with him. You just settle for being sad.

"We're not."

He turns back to the dresser and picks up a figurine--the figurine, the one you carefully set on your dresser the very first day you moved on; the only thing on your dresser that you dust off every morning. The last figurine your mother made you before she died, hand-painted and hand-made and the only one of her creations that you have left.

And he knows, he knows all this, he knows it's important and you can only let out a breathy, desperate cry before it's hurled at the wall with cruel force.

Your hands fly out to catch it--impossible--and the brief brush of the hard porcelain against your outstretched fingers is the last memory you'll have of it before it smashes against the wall. Fragile, broken, in shards.

The sound that comes out of your mouth when you see the shards of the figure, the shards of your mother’s memory is involuntary and primal. A sound that makes you clutch your chest to make sure you’re not dead--you’re not, no, you’re alive and you hurt so much that you think you’re going to break in half. Your hands clutch at your mouth and you scratch your lips without feeling or knowing it.

Keigo has already swooped in, and you don’t hear every word so much as his tone--so sorry and worried and oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck, he didn’t mean it, he was just so angry, he’ll fix it he’ll fix it he’ll fix this. His arms and his wings are wrapped around you, gentle and invading, as he rocks you slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. You don’t fight. You don’t scream at him. You just stare ahead, at the empty space where the figurine used to be, a clean circle surrounded by a layer of dust. It was a fragile little thing--and so are you.

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes

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zenithlux · 4 years

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Tendrils of Regret - Part 1

Read on AO3 Here!

My DMCWeek fic, Tendrils of Regret is finally here! I’m really excited about this one and all the follow-up stuff I’ve got cooking up for it! I’ll be posting a chapter a day for the rest of the week around the same time (and bumping them in the evening) so hope ya’ll enjoy :)

You still remember those frightful days, trapped in the body of a demon. You’d been there for a week and a half kept alive by a vine that pierced your body with magic you didn’t understand. Most of the time, you drifted in and out of sleep, alone in the darkness and dreaming of the world you were missing. Other times you were forced to watch as the thing you were playing host to gleefully pierced the hearts of others with its vines and tendrils, sucking away their blood and devouring their life itself. How you trembled with fear, uncertain whether to pray for a rescue or hope for your end.

Then, there was him. The man that became your savior. A tall, tattooed, black-haired man with remarkable demons that sensed who you were. “Well, well!” A talking bird demon said. “There’s a human in here.” When he landed on your demon’s head, you felt him peck it before flying back to the arm of the man. “What’s the plan, V?”

V you thought as the man swung his cane with a low chuckle. “We’ll just have to tear them out.”

Your demon screeched, slamming its vines down around the man. But V just scoffed as he slipped out of the way. A black panther lunged… and that’s all you remembered. When you woke up, you were in his arms with the panther nuzzling your side, a large, rock creature sitting behind him, and a whispered promise; “I’ll protect you.”

And, for the next month, he did. V taught you how to use your new powers that the vine embedded in your chest gave you. He fought alongside you, destroying the vines of that demon tree that nearly destroyed your home. His demons became your friends. You slept by Shadow’s side almost every night, while Griffon cuddled up next to V after complaining that it was “the kitty’s job” almost every time. All five of you had been close- as close as you could be considering how little time you actually had.

Then, one day, he gave you two bracelets made of black cords and a blue rose charm on each. “Hold on to these,” He said. “And when I see you again, you’ll return one to me.” Then, he smiled and kissed your forehead before disappearing for months with no sign of coming home. Another acquaintance of yours, Dante, also disappeared, leaving you, Lady, and Trish to keep Devil May Cry going in his absence.

Not a day went by that you didn’t think of V. But you had to keep moving forward. You couldn’t let your feelings consume you, not when you still had a piece of a demon latched to your heart. Lady and Trish treated you well, though you didn’t miss the occasional pity in their eyes, as if they knew something you didn’t. But you never got a chance to ask, and they never told. All three of you simply worked together under Morrison’s guidance, with you taking all the jobs your powers could handle.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel disconnected from the world. You were missing something important. A piece of your life that you couldn’t get back.

“So what’s it today, Morrison?” Lady said as she hopped on the desk and swiped a piece of pizza. Trish rolled her eyes but took her own slice. You slunk over to the second desk you’d recently bought to store all the paperwork and the blue rose you’d bought a few weeks ago. You touched your hand to the soil, feeling its life pulse in your fingertips. The petals bloomed under your touch, reinvigorated.

“Nothing important today,” Morrison said, waving a letter in the air. “Except some paperwork.” He tossed the envelope and you caught it without looking. “Can you handle that, Rose?”

Rose wasn’t your real name, but you’ve never shared it with them. You were a different person now after you were a part of that demon. You’d never returned to your family, accepting this new life as your own. And Dante had tried plenty of other names - Sunshine. Sugarplum. Little Leaf. Vine Lady. - but it had been V who’d overridden him, calling you “my little rose”. The women had accepted it, and Dante had eventually let his silly nicknames go. “What’s it today, Mori?” You ask, opening the letter. Inside was a stack of letters, bills, and invoices. You click your tongue. “Finances.”

“Yep,” Morrison said. “Your favorite pastime.”

“I’ll take care of it.” You plop down in your seat, tapping the power button of your computer. You’d insisted on getting one of these after Dante left after proclaiming that he was living “in the dark ages”. Trish and Lady had agreed with it, but progress was slow. Dante’s backlog of bills was still a problem that you were trying to solve. But with Lady and Trish’s help, you’d be all caught up in the next few months.

And since you were the only one who lived here, you were very dedicated to making it as comfortable as possible.

You often wondered if Dante would be proud of your work or laugh at you for trying too hard.

“Have you eaten today, Rose?” Lady said after gulping down another slice.

You waved her off. “I have enough sustenance.”

Lady snorted. “Out with the plants again?”

“Gotta keep the vine happy,” You said as you patted your chest. “And it’s not a big fan of pizza.”

“More for us,” Lady said with a grin, but it slipped away as you returned to your work. “Seriously though. You gotta take care of yourself. Can’t have you passing out on us again.”

You frown, not looking up. “That wasn’t my fault.” After V disappeared, you’d be left to navigate your powers alone. What you didn’t realize was that V had been providing a certain sustenance - demonic blood you later found out - and was redirecting a portion towards you through his familiars. Regular food only did so much, and you’d nearly died fighting off a pack of demons. Luckily, both Lady and Trish had been there for that mission and Trish guessed what had gone wrong. Now, you were careful to absorb any demonic essence you could find but often forgot to eat as food was bland and useless now.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine.” And that wasn’t a lie. Not technically. You were fine, just not great. Nights were often lonely without the company, but you never complained. All you had to do was fall asleep at a good time and everything was fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Your version of “at a good time” had gotten progressively later as the weeks went on. You often found yourself lingering on the computer, aimlessly searching through things that didn’t interest you for that chance to find one thing that did.

Lady just shook her head, but her smile and relaxed posture returned. “That was almost convincing,” She said with a shrug.

You smiled, glancing up over the monitor. “It’s as close to the truth as I can get.”

Lady hopped off the desk, reaching for Kalina Ann. “May as well patrol,” She said. “As exciting as those finances are…”

You waved her off. “Have fun.”

Lady rolled her eyes. “Always do!”

Then, the door opened.

Your head shot up in surprise. Lady sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Trish’s eyes narrowed as she leaned against the desk. A man in a red coat walked backward into the office. “... And you’re going to love it,” Dante said as he spun around. His eyes immediately darted between the three of you and he froze, caught between a genuine smile and a look of shock. Behind him stood a man you’d never seen before, but someone that was clearly related to Dante. If his hair were down and his face a little more grizzled, they’d be almost identical. When his gaze fell on you, it was stiff and uncomfortable.

“Hello ladies,” Dante said with an awkward wave. “Long time no see.”

“Seven months!” Lady snapped. “And you gave the deed to Morrison!?” She looked ready to slap him, but you didn’t miss the weary gaze she gave the second man. “You brought him back?”

“Of course,” Dante said with a shrug. “He’s on our side now.”

You blinked. Now? What did that mean? Why wasn’t he before?

Wait…

“Where’s V?” You said, unable to contain the fear in your voice. The second man’s eyes narrowed as Dante’s gaze snapped to you.

“Sunshine…”

“Where is he?” You repeated, standing up. “He went into that tree with you. Why’s he…?” You trailed off, eyes widening. “No…” He couldn’t have… he promised…

“I’m sorry,” Dante said, his tone solemn. No one was looking at you. “But V… well the V you knew is… it’s complicated.”

“The V I knew?” You said. “What do you mean?”

Dante glanced at the girls, his eyes begging for help, but neither of them said a word. “Well you see… my dumbass brother Vergil here…” The other man scoffed, but Dante just glared at him before continuing. “He split himself in two.”

You blinked. “What?”

“His human half,” Dante said, putting his hands to one side. “And his demon half.” He moved to the other. “So V is…” He hesitated, then held both hands out toward Vergil. Wiggling them for extra effect. “Well… Tada!”

You stared at him, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Not one second of it. But the way the other man - Vergil - just stared at him was… disconcerting. This was V… but not V? How was that even possible?

Wait…

“Then what happened to his demon half?”

This time, you didn’t miss the pointed glances Trish and Lady gave each other or the pained look on Dante’s face. Vergil didn’t move, nor had his gaze left yours since he’d walked in the door. You pulled your jacket tight around yourself, trying not to let it bother you. “Well… You know that demon in the tree?” Dante said.

The world seemed to freeze as your mind caught up to what he was saying. You closed your eyes, unable to hide the tears. “You mean… the one who put me in that… thing?”

“Rose...” Lady said.

“Did you know?” You said. A pulse of pain emanated from your chest as everything snapped into focus. The feeling of life nearly overwhelmed you. The rose on your desk. The plants beneath the floorboards. The vines that had yet to dissipate nearby. You could feel them, calling to you. Begging you to set them free. You swallowed, shoving the feeling back down. But you couldn’t stay here; the vine would nag at you until you gave in. And with your emotions breaking down…

“It happened to us too,” Trish said, her tone quieter than you’d ever heard. “But we made it out without… your affliction.”

Affliction. “But V saved me,” She said. “He’s the reason I’m alive… the reason I know how to use this.” She tapped her chest.

“Use what?” Vergil said.

You couldn’t help but glare at him, even through the ever-mounting tears. “You don’t remember?”

Vergil just stared at you and Lady groaned. “Of course not. That would be too simple.”

“Urizen got to her,” Dante said as a matter of fact. “Tied her up in some plant demon and wrapped a vine around her heart. Now she’s got demon powers.” He looked back at you. “And no one’s figured out how to get rid of the thing?”

“Not without killing her,” Trish said.

You choked back a sob, slamming your eyes shut again. No. You could still remember the voice of the demon in your head. That thing that had taken your body as its own host.

You couldn’t do this.

You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You darted for the door. Dante leaped out of the way, but the Vergil just stood there, stopping you short. “Move,” You snapped, glaring at him. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t move. More tears slipped down your cheek. “Get out of my way,” You said.

“What was he to you?” He said.

“Shouldn’t you know?” You replied, bitter and resentful. “Since you were him or some nonsense?”

“She and V were close,” Trish said. You didn’t want to hear it, but you didn’t stop her either. “Like sharing the same room close.” You saw Vergil flinch and it only soured your mood even more. How dare he act like that. Did you really mean nothing to him? Did he really forget everything you and his… his what did? His “other self”? His “human half”? Did V even exist anymore? Or were you just stuck with this asshole standing in front of you?

“Move,” You said.

Vergil watched you for a moment longer. His sharp blue eyes were unsettling. The power within you swelled unexpectedly. A harsh desire washed over you. A desire to prove… something. A desire to… to what?

What was happening?

“Rose,” Lady said. “You need to breathe.”

“I need to leave,” You said.

“Come on, Verge,” Dante said. “Let the girl go.”

Finally, Vergil stepped aside and you rushed out into the night.

------------

Lady found you half an hour later on a low rooftop surrounded by plants you’d raised from the ground before you crawled up there. You pulled more than usual tonight, cocooning yourself in vines covered in small, white flowers, giant sunflowers that had surprised you, and a couple of large roses fueled by your despair. Redgrave was destroyed already. Your plants just made it prettier. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you peered up at the moon through a small opening.

“Can I join you?” Lady said. You hummed noncommittally but tapped your fingers. Two of the vines fell away, opening a small door until she stepped inside. You used to do this with V, as it was a good practice of your control. Of course, you’d only managed a few plants with him. After months of your own practice, you’d gotten much better.

Not that you showed it off to many people.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Lady said as she sat down beside you. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “To be honest, we weren’t sure what was going to happen. Dante had left to kill his brother, and V himself was deteriorating… as I’m sure you remember.” You nodded, but you didn’t look at her. “But we should have guessed Dante would find a way to save him. And he sure wouldn’t survive forever away from his beer and pizza.”

“And his friends,” you offered.

Lady snorted, but she smiled. “He was probably happy to be away from us for a while.”

You shrugged. “He’s probably glad to see you both again.” Your gaze lifted back to the moon. “Unlike V… Vergil.” The name was still bitter on your tongue and you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to saying it. You could imagine V right here, telling you the truth. How much you would have laughed with him over the very imaginative name he’d given himself before he would lull you to comfort with poems and Shadow’s purrs. How little you would have cared then. V was V. His own person. The man you…

You sighed. “Now what?”

Lady was silent for a moment, eyes drifting to the moon. “I’m not expecting you to have the same feelings for Vergil that you did for V,” She said. You didn’t look at her as tears threatened to fall again. “V is a part of the whole, yes, but he isn’t… the whole.” Lady sighed. “It’s…”

“Complicated?” You said.

“Something like that,” She said. “Just don’t let him get to you.” She hesitated again, then sighed. “Last time we met… he wasn’t the nicest guy. But maybe he’s changed. Who knows?” She muttered something under her breath, but you only caught the words “I” and “wouldn’t”. Your heart sank at the implication. I wouldn’t trust him.

“What should I do then?” You said. “Just… accept it?”

“I don’t know,” She admitted. “But I wanted you to know that I’ll be here for you, okay? If you need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. “He’s really gone,” You whisper. As much as you knew V, you didn’t know Vergil. You didn’t even know if you could trust him. The sheer fact that he’d been the demon to seal you away, the very reason you had to give up everything you loved… was heartbreaking. How could you look at him the same? How could you see the man you’d grown to care for and ignore the awful things that had happened?

“Life’s never easy for people like us,” Lady said.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

#dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #vergil/reader #vergil/you #vergil #dante #lady #trish #enemies to friends #slow mutual pining #remnants of V

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