SpellBound: Chapter 2
Tagging: @harlot-of-oblivion @blooddrop-palace @nvswift @foxterra @veenus-ow @vixenindecay @allyssaleone @fuckyouseratonin @sirenrayne @yepps @music-of-chaos
A/N: If you wanna be tagged for future chapters, feel free to PM me or leave a comment down below! Did not expect it to be this long but here we are. Hope you enjoy!
Read the updated & latest chapters on AO3
Vergil x Witch!F!Reader
Word Count: 8,750
Chapter 2:
She didn’t know how long it had been by the time she had finally woken up, the sun having long since risen over the horizon as its golden light bled in through the window blinds of the shop. Her body slightly ached from having slept hunched over for so long, her eyes still gradually adjusting between the leftover sleep that still sat in the corner of her eyes. Much to her surprise, her hand was still wrapped around her still slumbering patient, who thankfully seemed to look much better than the night before. More color had begun to return to his features and his breathing seemed to have returned to a more steady and normal rate. While he was far from being entirely healed, it seemed as though the sigils she had placed had done enough of a trick to help get his body back on track to being able to recover on its own.
Getting up with a groan of discomfort, Y/N gazed around the small operating room, her eyes briefly checking over the leftover fluid in the IV before deciding to quickly replace it. She could feel her body protesting, practically begging her to go to her own bed and sleep for a few hours, though just from one quick glance at her watch only confirmed she would have no time for such a treat. Unfortunately she had a shop to open and manage for the next several hours, patient or no patient. Speaking of which, she would probably have to do something about that torn vest and jacket of his. She had some spare thread and fabrics in the back that she could easily work with to get both pieces of clothing back to normal, perhaps even throw in the wash real quick to deal with the leftover blood and poison that seemed to have left a rather unpleasant stain in its wake.
A small nudge felt against her thigh stirred the witch from her thoughts as she looked down to the faintly panting form of one of her dear familiars. Taking the form of a large black dog akin to that of a pitbull, Hecate was one of the few familiars that Y/N was keen to keep around the shop for a number of reasons. The first and foremost being that this familiar was arguably the best in terms of serving as a literal guard dog, specifically having been carefully picked out among a number of other potential demonic familiars. Though, she supposed what made Hecate so special was the fact that much like her half devil companions, she too was only a half breed, having been carefully bred from that of a normal dog and a hellhound. Although Hecate was more than capable of being more than tenacious when in battle, she was as soft and faithful as any loyal dog was to its master. And much like most loyal dogs do, Hecate was keen on having some much needed breakfast.
“Haha, there, there, love. I’m getting around to it, I promise. Just let me throw these in the wash and I’ll cook up some sausage and eggs. Sound good?” Y/N asked with a playful chuckle as Hecate merely barked happily in reply, bounding slightly from her spot beside the witch. “And no, you’re not getting more than three of each. We need to cut back on your meal sizes, hellhound blood or not.”
Hecate whined slightly as she rolled onto her side, showing her belly as she pleadingly stared up at Y/N, who merely rolled her eyes in reply.
“Oh don’t you start whining with me now, young lady. It’s either that or you can go demon hunting yourself. Now come on, let’s leave our friend here to get some rest, shall we?” Y/N moved over the dog with ease and headed towards the small alcove in the next room over that she used for the laundry room. It wasn’t a larger room like she would have wished, but it was doable at least. She supposed she could have used the last big payments she received from Morrison to get some expansions to the building done, though she also knew all too well that as long as Dante was around, she was going to need that extra cash saved for more repairs at some point in the future.
She was careful to place the torn and stained clothes inside with an alchemical solution she used for tough and more particularly supernatural stains, regardless as to whether that be blood or generally anything demon related like demon venom. Thankfully due to the lavender scented solution that she used with the potion, there shouldn’t be any remaining traces of the incident other than a faint yet pleasing scent of lavender. She would have to dig around her fabric supply to find something close enough that she could blend with for the right texture and color of the coat and vest, though she was sure she would be able to find something given that his own preferences seemed to line up with her own. She wasn’t sure why she was so pleased by this, but she supposed it was nice to have similar tastes with someone, regardless as to how little she actually seemed to know about this mysterious and infamous Son of Sparda.
A soft jump against the top of the dryer tore Y/N from her thoughts as yet another of her familiars had decided to make an appearance, a white haired and blue eyed cat she had so fondly named Jupiter. Although he wasn’t demonic in nature like Hecate, he was a spritely and clever minded little fey who liked to pop in and out of sight whenever it seemed to please him; that is, assuming the witch had yet to summon him herself. He served more as a spy than a combatant familiar the way Hecate was, who could easily shift between different forms as needed for combat. And although he could summon things such as balls of pale blue balls of fire if needed, he much preferred to stay away from any trouble that would try and come his way.
“Yes, yes, you’re hungry too I see, my dear,” Y/N softly chuckled as she shook her head, gently scratching the familiar’s cheek as he let out a satisfied purr and meow, his tail swaying and twitching in delight. “Alright, alright. Breakfast time it is then. Come on,” she sighed, pressing the button on the dryer before heading to the kitchen.
With the snap of her fingers and careful sway of her hand she began to cook, cracking and frying eggs with one hand and preparing the fresh pork sausages with the other. She normally would happily take her time to prepare breakfast, though it seemed her familiars were becoming less and less patient by the minute as she had stalled. “What ever will I do with you fools,” Y/N chuckled as the pair watched her from the floor and table with excitement as the delicious smell of fried eggs and pork filled the air, gradually filling and slipping past the kitchen before soon filling up other corners of the shop; all the while remaining oblivious as it would come to rouse the slumbering dark slayer in the next room ever.
What had been a night of pain and nightmares had drifted into a pleasant world of warmth and comfort for Vergil, the nightmarish barrage of bloodshed, demons and screaming soon fading from him more and more. It was as though he was lying in a cool stream, little by little becoming pleasantly submerged in its pleasantly cooling waters. Although a part of him dared not wake from this soothing realm of rarely pleasant dreams, there was something tugging at him. Something warm and alluring beyond these cooling waters, something that shone through the waves with a light almost akin to sunlight, and yet the light was not nearly as harsh. In fact, the faintness was rather pleasant, and the more he stared at it, the more he realized it was more akin to moonlight, shining down upon him and bathing him in a gentle silver light, though never once becoming too harsh or blinding. And although there was a part of him that begged him to pull back into the darkness of the water, there was another part of him that urged him to move forward and embrace this warm and welcoming light.
He wasn’t sure what it was he was expecting to find upon surfacing from the waves, though he didn’t mind what he did seem to find. Although much of his vision remained obscured and heavy, almost as though looking through a thick fog of steam, he could still see her, taking in the softness of her features as she seemed to stare deeply into him. Her face seemed to gently radiate this light that drew him in ever near like a moth to a flame, looking for even the tiniest bead of light in this overwhelming darkness that was attempting to surround him. To say her appearance was merely angelic was an understatement, and it didn’t take long before he found himself reaching out for her with pleading eyes. He was no longer the cold and aloof man who had allowed his heart and humanity to have become starved and closed off for so long, but rather, he had allowed himself to become the pleading and desperate child who feared the approaching darkness, and more than anything else, wanted to be pulled out and saved from the reaching grasp of the cold depths that so greedily sought to drag him down with them.
“P-please...don’t go...stay with me...” his mouth and throat felt as dry as sandpaper as he spoke, his voice cracked and fractured like broken glass as he did his best to cry out to her, his arms feeling as though they weighed several pounds as he reached for her. For even the briefest moment, he was sure the darkness would take hold and drag him under once more, coming back to haunt him in the end as it always did. Once again he was going to be left alone, left to the darkness, left to the demons, left to every haunting vision and pain that has continued to cling to him with the weight of heavy chains since that fateful day so long ago.
However, despite how long he waited, despite how close the darkness felt, it did not come for him. It tried to reach as it screamed and cursed his name with its vile and limitless mouths, all gaping and ever ravenous as it reached for him with futile efforts. Rather, a soft and gentle voice pierced through all of that, casting aside the gluttonous darkness in one fell swoop as though it were pushing aside mere insects.
“Alright. I’ll stay with you, Vergil...”
Much like the light that emanated from her, the voice too was gentle and pleasant, reaching out for him with a touch that seemed to envelope him entirely, seemingly casting out the darkness into oblivion as Vergil felt himself at peace once more, his eyes glued to the angelic figure before him. It was such a simple gesture, taking her hand in his, and yet it alone had been more than enough to save him from whatever hell had so hungrily awaited him. His body no longer felt heavy and his fear had seemingly evaporated, leaving only a sense of peace that seemed to cover him with the comfort of a soft warm blanket. For the first time in so many years, he was finally safe. This he knew for certain as her voice gently washed over him once more.
“I’ll stay however long you wish me to. I promise.”
Vergil could feel himself softly drifting into the warmth of the light, just barely able to whisper a soft thank you as he began to close his eyes once more.
It had been some time before Vergil had finally come to, quickly attempting to shield his eyes as his vision began to adjust. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t seem to ache as he attempted to move, softly grunting and groaning in protest. He didn’t recognize the world around him, unsure of where he was or why, the last thing he remembered being their fight with the demonic swarm. He could tell from his mostly bandaged torso and lack of a shirt that things clearly didn’t end well, though it certainly did little to shorten his growing list of questions.
Where was he? What happened to him? Where was Dante? What happened to the demon? Where was his sword and clothes? What are these strange glowing runes in the wall?
Walking with a slight limp and using the IV stand has his crutch, he began to carefully study the surrounding area, noting the various assortments of odd looking bottles, books, plants and various other things. It seemed as though he was in some kind of odd shop, perhaps an apothecary of some sort? Were there any in Redgrave City? And of there was, why didn’t he know of it.
Vergil paused as he found himself caught up in the pleasing scent of something cooking, letting out a deep yet pleased sigh as he carefully began to follow it, eventually coming to find what he believed to be the door to the kitchen. Perhaps there he would finally come to find some answers to his ever growing confusion. However, it didn’t take him long to pause upon hearing a familiar voice cut through the sound of cooking, his heart almost skipping a beat in the process as he tentatively listened.
“Now, now, you two, you’ve waited this long you can wait a little longer. Besides, I’m sure our friend will want something fresh to eat when he wakes up.”
The more he listened, the more he was certain that this had been the very same voice he had heard in his dream, though much clearer and realer this time. Moving carefully as to not alert her of his presence, he watched her as she carefully cooked away at the stove, occasionally chuckling and smiling at the pair of animals that would nudge themselves against her side. At first glance he had almost mistook the large black dog beside her to be that of a panther purely from its sheer length and size, only realizing this mistake after hearing the animal bark in annoyance from being denied its food. That said, it hadn’t taken long before said canine had its eyes locked on him, tail wagging eagerly as it panted and barked at him.
“Hm? What are you barking about now, Heca—oh,” the woman began, her eyes now locked on him now as the sunlight perfectly illuminated her features with an almost otherworldly glow. Although it was brief, Vergil could have sworn to have felt her gaze sink into him. “Ah, good! You’re awake. And here I was worried you’d be under for another day or two.” Her smile, although soft, did little to undermine the radiance and warmth it emitted, causing the guarded half devil’s heart to practically skip a beat. “Come. Why don’t you have a seat while I finish this up? I’ll go finish up repairing your clothes while you eat.”
Vergil curiously watched her as she gestured for him to sit by the nearby table, unable to quite fully wrap his head around this scenario. One minute he wakes up in a strange and unfamiliar place shirtless and covered in bandages, and now he’s being offered freshly made breakfast by a strangely alluring woman? Surely this had to be some kind of fever dream. Perhaps another beautifully painted illusion of the demon’s poison? Either way, Vergil momentarily found himself willing to listen to her instructions as he carefully took his seat at the nearby table, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the woman as he did.
“What is this place?” Vergil finally asked after a moment’s pause.
“You, my dear Vergil, are in my shop. Well, a shop that also doubles as a clinic and apartment to be precise. Dante brought you here after your incident last night. To be perfectly frank, you looked like some kind of nightmarish pin cushion with the amount of pieces that were stuck in you,” the woman replied as she casually turned a piece of sausage. “Honestly it was a miracle you weren’t in a worse condition, demon blood or not.”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at the woman at the mention of demon blood. “How do you--”
“At ease, handsome. I’ve known your brother and son for quite a while now. I know what you three are. And fortunate for you, I know exactly how to aid and treat you,” she said with a coy smirk. “Thankfully the potion and sigils I gave you last night as part of your treatment seemed to have done the trick to fix you up. Even with your normal healing abilities as a cambion, that level of venom and the sheer amount it shanked into you would have fucked you up six ways to the ninth circle of hell and back, if not worse.”
“I’ve studied and treated enough demons, humans, and everything in-between throughout my life. Your case was no different, and luckily for you and your brother, I just so happened to have enough equipment left in stock. Not that I couldn’t use other means to fix you up if I had no other choice,” she admitted with a slight smirk as she tossed a stray piece of egg white into her mouth. “Knowing how to treat and deal with demons and any kind of similar half breed comes handy in my field and is practically crucial if you wish to make good connections, regardless of what your end goals are.”
“And what kind of field would that be, exactly?” Vergil asked, his brow furrowing more by the minute as he watched and listened, not quite fully sure what to make of this peculiar woman.
The woman turned to him with a playful smirk, her eyes practically gleaming with mischief. “He really has never mentioned me has he? Hah, well, then again I suppose that’s Dante for you. Oh well, I suppose this was bound to happen anyway,” she smirked, waving her hand in the air.
Vergil watched in a mix of shock and awe as he watched as the salt and pepper shakers and set silverware began to float and twirl in the air before him before being quickly joined by orbs of faintly glowing light. Although a part of him tried to warn him to lurch back and guard himself, he couldn’t help but find himself entranced by what he was seeing. It was such a simple trick and yet a small part of him couldn’t help but feel amazed by this. What strange power was this? How had he never seen anything like this before? Just who exactly was this woman, and how on earth was she connected to Dante and Nero?
As the lights vanished and the tableware was gracefully returned to their proper places, the woman couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. Vergil’s gaze returned to her form, searching for any kind of sign that may give some relief to his plethora of questions. “Just who are you exactly?”
The witch smiled chuckled, turning off the stove before turning to the now deeply fascinated dark slayer. “My name is Y/N. As you may or may not have guessed by now, I’m a witch, and luckily for you, a very capable one.” Vergil watched as she came over to him, casually sliding the fried egg and sausage onto his plate before summoning a small plate of toast and a glass of milk. “That, and one who’s willing to give you a half decent meal. Your body is still in the stages of recovery, so you’re going to need all the energy you can get. Now, eat up. I’ll happily answer your questions in time. I’ll go fetch your clothes in the meantime.”
And without another word, she had left him to his meal, all the while in mild shock of what had just been revealed to him. This woman was truly a witch? She was undoubtedly some kind of spellcaster, that much he was sure of, but a witch? Vergil remembered the countless stories he had read about witches, even including the ones his own mother had told him as a child, and yet not a single one seemed to quite match up with whoever this woman was. She was by no means decrepit or old like the hag-like witches he had always heard about in stories. And although she was undoubtedly beautiful, she also didn’t seem like some kind of conniving sorceress who was planning his death or worse. After all, she had been mostly forthcoming with him, and clearly had some connection to Dante and Nero.
That said, how come they had never mentioned her to him? Was she to be some sort of secret meant to be hidden away? Although he knew there was always just a chance it simply had never come up in conversation, he was even more shocked he had simply never stumbled upon the shop itself during his walks. He had come to know most of the shops and business in Redgrave City because of them, and yet somehow this little corner of the world managed to miss his eye so easily? Why? Or more importantly, how?
“Ah, here we go! Good as new,” Y/N sighed, clearly pleased with her work. “I was able to mend it with some leftover cloth. I had a spell to make sure it mended and blended perfectly. Looks as though that whole fight never happened.” Her eyes seemed to gleam with pride as she placed them on the table before taking a seat, waving a hand to summon a nearby cup and kettle that had just finished boiling.
Vergil watched her in careful interest, not quite fully sure of what to make of this rather strange and peculiar woman. “Do you always magic so often?”
“Mhm, no, not really,” she admitted with a shrug. “Though I am feeling quite warn and lazy this morning, so you’ll have to forgive me for using it more liberally than usual. Though something tells me that’s hardly your real concern, now is it?” Y/N’s eyes blinked at him as she sipped what smelled like a nice herbal tea that carried a rather pleasant scent. “Care for a drink,” She asked, likely having noticed Vergil’s pleased expression while already summoning another mug before he can even reject. “It’ll help soothe your nerves while we talk more.”
“What makes you think I’m in need of soothing?”
“Well let’s see, you’re a cambion who so happened to have learned that not only is magic real, but also you’ve been under the care of a witch you had no idea existed up until about five minutes ago while still recovering from the effects of demonic poison. I’d be more than a little stressed out if I were you,” Y/N replied with a faint yet teasing smirk. “Besides, although you’ve mostly recovered physically, I’m sure your mind is still trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. And yes, even adult half demons like you need to take care of their,” she quickly added as Vergil had begun to open his mouth to argue.
“Hmph, very well,” Vergil softly scoffed, taking the mug carefully before bringing it to his lips, quickly finding himself being pleasantly surprised by the flavor as it washed over him. Apparently the witch was as good a tea maker as she was a cook and tailor. It was sweet with just the right amount of cinnamon, bringing an odd sense of comfort to the dark slayer as he took another sip.
“Freshly grown sweet cinnamon black tea honey. Can’t go wrong with the stuff. I’d break out the Jasmine or Lemon Ginseng teas though I’ve yet to restock much of it. Though I do have a nice pomegranate green tea blend around here if that’s more your taste,” she offered before drinking more of her tea. “I try to keep a decently sized personal cache of the stuff when demand isn’t too high from orders.”
“You grow and blend your own tea?” Vergil asked curiously. “I never would have thought of a witch as being someone with an interest in tea.”
Y/N chuckled as she softly smiled, running a hand through her long hair, her face once again angled just right by the light of the sun. “Among many other things too I assure you, Mr. Sparda. Can’t rely on just medicinal sales all the time to pay for the bills,” she smirked with a teasing wink. “You’d be surprised to learn the amount of people who’d happily pay for fresh, homegrown stuff. That, and you can thank my mother and grandmother for passing on their obsession with the stuff. Does wonders for stress and headaches,” she sighed before gently setting down her mug, which Vergil now noted to have the form of a black cat as the mug with its tail being the handle. Vergil couldn’t help but feel himself smirk a bit at the stereotype, not that this witch of his seemed to mind the thought one bit.
“But--” she began as she set the mug aside. “Idle chit chat aside. I know you have questions that I promised to answer. So by all means, ask away,” Y/N added as she leaned back in her seat, eyes trained on Vergil as he finished chewing on a piece of cooked sausage.
“You mentioned you know of Dante and Nero. How exactly did you come to meet them?”
“Ah yes, those two. Love them to bits but at the same time they drive me up a wall within the week with no problem,” she chuckled as she shook her head. “Technically I’ve met your brother on a number of occasions since he’s lived here in Redgrave city. He’s even hit on me on more than a few occasions. Not that he really remembers most of them.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Vergil scoffed, earning a laugh from the witch. Vergil could feel his heart tighten slightly at the reaction, though was quick to dismiss it as being nothing more than just his body acting up from recovering. What else could possibly make his own body act so foolishly? Surely there was no way this woman could possibly have developed any sway over him just like that. Sure she was a witch, but it wasn’t as though she had him wrapped around her pretty little finger by any means.
“Officially it was Nero who I met first. I’d say he happened to drop in by my shop one day out of the blue, though I think that alone would have to be an obvious understatement compared to what actually happened,” she chuckled as she rested her cheek against her palm, smiling at the old memory. “When I say he happened to drop into my shop, by the way, I of course mean that in the most literal form of the term. Though I supposed ‘crashed into’ is also another fitting term for what happened.”
Vergil had to blink at the statement as he stared at her, mouth slightly agape in disbelief. “Are you saying that he literally--”
“Fell into my shop? Yes, yes I am. Left quite a sizable hole in my roof and wall while he was at it,” Y/N laughed with a faint snort. “He was apparently working on a job dealing with a particularly large demon that day. One minute he’s handling it just fine and the next minute he gets a bit too cocky and winds up thrown through my ceiling only to end up laying in what used to be my collection of herbal healing potions and salves.”
“I can’t imagine you were too pleased about the damages.”
“Oh trust me I had thought some demon had been stupid enough to try and break down my sigils and was ready to turn them into tea compost,” Y/N scoffed. “Though the moment I realized what, or more accurately, who it was, I just had him return the payment in demon parts that could be salvaged from his fight. I could handle the repairs just fine though the merchandise would need to be replaced somehow. And luckily for him, I’ve been needing some fresh horns, claws and scales.”
Why does this not surprise me? Vergil thought to himself with a small scoff as he took another swig of his tea to wash down the mouthful of fried egg and toast. Though, all that being said, he almost didn’t want to know how exactly she came to be officially introduced to Dante, knowing all too well of his twin’s foolish antics. “Do I dare ask what he did?”
“You mean aside from the time he had himself become impaled on my upstairs greenhouse or the time he crashed his motorcycle through my front door?” Y/N asked with a scoff, rolling her eyes while running her finger around the mouth of her mug. “To be honest your brother and I have run into each other more times than he can probably even recall, always having some kind of trouble on his tail while assuming I’m some mere defenseless bystander. But regardless of such shortcomings, by the time we were finally introduced to one another, it had been about three years or so. It was only through Nero that we were officially introduced.”
Vergil would be lying if he said he was by any means surprised to learn that of course it would be his son that would finally make his idiot twin aware of just who this woman is. Knowing Dante, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had ever tried to foolishly flirt with her shortly after meeting. “What are your thoughts on him, then?”
Hm?” Y/N blinked, somewhat surprised by Vergil’s sudden question. “I guess you could say he’s like a brother to me with how much he drives me up a wall whenever he’s around. Though of course as someone with five older brothers, that hardly says much.”
Vergil found himself nearly choking on a piece of meat when he fully processed that statement. Five older brothers? Who could possibly stand to have that many siblings, let alone children? Vergil could hardly stand to imagine having more siblings beyond Dante, let alone anymore that would be like him either. He was impressed to see the woman was still sane after all these years. “You say that as though that’s some small feat,” Vergil said after taking a swig of tea to try and clear his throat.
“With a family as messy as mine, you eventually just learn to deal with it and move on. Of course that doesn’t stop from the usual share of family drama springing up like daisies, but when you’re dealing with a family of a powerful witch, there’s hardly any room for trouble not to show up,” Y/N shrugged. “But enough about me and my baggage. Is there anything else you want to know?”
Where could he even begin? Vergil could already feel his head buzzing with the amount of questions he had regarding witches alone, though there remained to be a small part of him that didn’t want to pry too much into the witch’s life, regardless of her lack of resistance to answering. She had been more than willing to enlighten him thus far, what harm could there be in asking just a few more questions?
“Is it true what they say about witches?” Vergil asked, attempting to not seem too insensitive in his inquiries. “I’ve heard countless stories about witches drawing their powers from demons they’ve made pacts with.”
“Ah yes, that. Every witch’s favorite past-time. Well, actually, that would be developing personally crafted hexes, gossiping, developing youth potions and Tuesday brunch, but that’s besides the point,” Y/N smirked with a playful wink as she chuckled to herself. “Yes it’s true that a number of witches will make pacts with demons for power, though it’s not only demons they’ll willingly make pacts with. That and even then the actual percentage per the whole population is usually just below half. That and regarding the reason for said pacts.”
“How so?” Vergil asked, his brow now knitted with intrigue as he leaned in towards the table, his cool blue eyes fully locked on the witch as she continued.
“Well for starters there are two main types of witches. Those who are born and those who are made. Some think the terms interchangeable, but I’ll happily have you know it’s not as black and white as some would have you thing,” she said, positioning the salt and pepper shakers between then with the wave of a finger. “Some witches, such as myself, are able to inherit our abilities from those who came before us, thus being the ones who are born. Some inherit their abilities while they’re young and others may take decades before they first come into their powers. Fortunately for me, I was able to come into mine at a young enough age that it allowed me to have more years to practice my craft and become stronger that way. Because of this innate ability we are also known as being called sorceresses,” Y/N explained, tapping on the salt shaker before moving onto the pepper shaker next to it. “As for those who are made witches...these are typically those who were born without power and are usually normal humans who decided to seek out such power through different means. They might have started out as mere tarot card readers or developing apothecaries who desired more than what they had. And so to compensate for that difference in power, they’ll try to seek out a source to draw from.”
“And so they make pacts to do so,” Vergil murmured as he rested his chin against his folded hands.
“You catch on quick, good,” Y/N said, nodding in approval. “Of course this by no means that witches who were born without power won’t also seek out demons and other such potential patrons, but more often than not it’s usually those who weren’t born witches who will go out of their way to try and form pacts.”
“And what about you? Do you have a pact?” Vergil asked, his eyes searching for whatever answer it was he was looking to find. The witch’s face seemed to turn neutral and somber, sighing as she leaned back in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. At least a handful of minutes had gone by before she had finally answered, her brows knit in thought.
“...No, I don’t. To be honest, it’s part of the reason why most of the local covens and I don’t exactly play nice,” she finally sighed, her tone no longer casual and lighthearted. She didn’t dare go into more detail, giving Vergil enough of a sign to no longer press on the issue as Y/N ran a tired hand down her face. “I did have something close once,” she added. “An old mentor of mine left me a small portion of his power to help me protect myself and those who needed my services. Perhaps he knew of the things to come before he left.”
Vergil had begun to open his mouth to ask another question, though was quickly cut off by the chime of a bell that was followed by an all too familiar voice.
“Hey, Y/N! I’m here with those pieces you asked for!” the voice of Nero called from the front of the shop, causing Y/N’s face to shift from it’s firm expression to what Vergil could swear to be one of relief.
“Back in the kitchen, Nero,” Y/N called before getting up.
“Yo! Something smells good! Any chance you saved anything for us?” Nico called as her and Nero came into frame. “Oh man, what do we have here? Certainly didn’t expect to see your daddy shirtless at the table, dude,” Nico said as she turned to Nero, who seemed equally confused to find his father there of all places.
“What the--? What the hell are you doing here?” Nero asked, cocking his head at the ever shirtless Vergil, only noting the attached IV and bandages shortly after. “What happened to you?”
“Job went wrong and Dante sent your old man here late last night. And leave him be, Nico. Let the poor man enjoy his meal,” Y/N added as she shooed Nico away from the table as she attempted to snatch a piece of sausage. “Now, you two got some goods for me?”
“Ah right, uh....here,” Nero said, handing her the bag of neatly wrapped boxes. “Had to wrestle Nico for these, so they’re probably good.”
“Heh, could have made some good stuff with those,” Nico said. “But I guess I can settle for letting you have them for your stuff too.”
“I’d sure hope so, missy. Consider it as a nice way to pay me back for the times the two of you decided to raid my fridge without asking,” Y/N smirked as she shook her head. “I have Kyrie’s refill in the back. I’ll go get it in a minute. Though do make sure this one doesn’t try to steal anything,” she quickly added as she pointed at Nico. “I have my eye on you especially, young lady.”
“I have done nothing wrong in my life ever,” Nico said, earning a scoff from both Nero and Vergil, who was now attempting to redress himself now that he seemed to have given up on his meal.
“I was wondering why you weren’t at the shop,” Nero said, turning back to Vergil. “It was definitely odd for you to miss morning training practice.”
Vergil merely sighed at the thought, silently already cursing himself to forgetting such a thing, let alone foolishly having messed up enough to miss such an appointment. The two of them had been training together for a fair bit since Dante and him had returned from the underworld, having decided to try and be more of a present father figure in his son’s life since learning of their connection. Despite his many mistakes and slights that he had caused the boy, he was still determined nonetheless to try and build a connection with what little family and legacy he had.
“Well, at least you’re alright. You had me worried for a bit that something might have happened. Didn’t help that Dante didn’t bother to offer an explanation other than you were recovering from last night,” Nero added as he took the seat across from him. “Though I’ll admit. It’s a good thing he brought you to Y/N of all people. Couldn’t ask for a better witch and healer. Hell, she’s a pretty damn good cook too,” Nero added as he grabbed a piece of toast.
“You seem to have a high opinion of this woman,” Vergil mused.
“Well yeah. It’s kinda hard not to when she’s basically the neighborhood mom who always seems to know what to do. Well, that, and she certainly has no trouble killing demons without any help from Dante or me,” Nero added as he scratched his nose.
“Don’t forget the time you called her mom,” Nico sniggered, earning an unamused look from the young devil hunter.
“I-it was just an accident! Nothing more,” Nero yelled, a slight layer of pink dusting his cheeks as he waved a hand in dismissal at Nico. “Quit bringing that up already!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say mama’s boy,” Nico teased as he pulled a cigarette out of her pocket.
“Don’t you dare even think of lighting that in my shop, Nicoletta Goldstein!” Y/N yelled from across the shop. “So help me gods, I will turn you into a newt.”
Nico and Nero merely exchanged surprised expressions as Vergil merely chuckled.
“Man she really is a witch,” Nico said with a shiver as she sheepishly put away her cigarette. “Must be psychic too.”
“Nah, you’re just that predictable,” scoffed Nero.
“Whatever you say, Mama’s Boy.”
“Shut it.”
“Alright, children, calm down, don’t burn down the damn house just yet,” Y/N interrupted as she came back with a bag of bottles in hand. “Alright. Here’s Kyrie’s conditioner, shampoo, lotions and tiger balm jars. I threw in an extra of each since I know she’ll need it. Oh, and, Nico, just because I am psychic doesn’t mean I need to use it to know your habits,” Y/N smirked as she handed the bags to Nero. “Send the lovely lady and the kids my regards.”
“Thanks, will do, Y/N,” Nero sighed as he began to stand up again.
“Now if only you’d get around to proposing to her already,” the witch smirked, causing poor Nero to tense up somewhat in reply.
“I--well, uh, you see--look, I’m working on it, okay!?” Nero sputtered, his face growing pinker and more flustered by the minute as Y/N merely shook her head and clicked her tongue at him.
“Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Whatever you say, bambino. I’ll believe it when I see it,” she smirked with a faint chuckle. “Just be sure to do it before I eventually have to do it for you. Now, shoo. I have a shop to clean up soon. Get back to your girl with her goods and don’t make her wait.”
“Huh?! But--!” Nero began in protest, only to be swiftly cut off as he and Nico were soon let out of the kitchen.
“You heard me, sweetheart. Now, shoo! Shoo! Andiamo, bambini! Andiamo! Let’s go!” Y/N yelled, clapping her hands as she shooed away the pair along and out the kitchen door. Vergil couldn’t help but find himself smirking in amusement as he watched the petite woman casually push the pair out with ease. He could certainly see what his son had meant when he said she had a certain motherly quality about her, specifically a very Italian mother quality about her. He certainly didn’t mind it one bit if he had to be honest. If nothing else, she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to assert herself as needed. For even the briefest of moments, Vergil couldn’t help but think back to his own mother. Had the two ever met, he wondered if they would if they’d like one another.
“Ugh, good to finally have these back in stock,” Y/N sighed as she lightly tossed the bag of devil onto the kitchen counter before shifting her gaze to Vergil. “Oh and don’t take out that IV just yet. I still want to check you over before I release you. I swear the last thing either of us needs is to do that stupid thing everyone does when they wake up and tear out their goddamn IV. Like honestly do they even consider the damage that they’re doing,” Y/N groaned, shaking her head in disdain as she quickly grabbed a nearby bandage and medical tape. “Oh and don’t give me any of that ‘but I can heal just fine’ nonsense either. I’ve seen enough idiots with said abilities do it and still get fucked over.”
Oh yes, they would get along just fine, Vergil noted to himself with a faint smirk as he sipped his tea. He was a grown ass man, let alone half demon, and yet she had no problem becoming that of a scolding mother despite the fact she was rather small while standing at just about 5’4 at most while he easily towered above her at 6’2. He had to wonder if there was anything in this world this woman feared. Vergil knew most humans would surely consider him a monster and an abomination as being a combination of human and demon, and yet this woman acted as though she were merely chatting with an old friend she had simply met for brunch.
“Alright, and here we go,” Y/N murmured, gently pulling out the needle of the IV after cutting off the tube’s connection and gently bandaging the entry point. “I swear you Sons of Sparda need to be far more considerate of your own well beings. You boys may be durable, but you’re by no means immortal, much less indestructible.”
“Are you going to next tell me to floss my teeth and eat my vegetables?” Vergil asked, unable to help but tease, his heart slightly fluttering as Y/N merely smiled and laughed, her face little more than inches away from his.
“My, my, brawn, looks, brains and a sense of humor. Aren’t you just the full package,” she teasingly smirked with a playful wink before gently patting the dark slayer on the face. “Well it certainly wouldn’t hurt you to do so. Not unless you want to get stuck paying my shop another visit sometime soon, though I suppose the company never hurts.”
“You say that as though you’d like for me to come back.”
“You haven’t given me much of a reason to not want you back,” Y/N shrugged with a soft grin, “though when you do, try not to become some demon’s pincushion. I prefer my friends and potential customers to at least try to come in one piece. Makes cleaning up so much less of a pain, and magic can only do so much for those ungodly bloodstains. Besides, it’s nice to have a conversation with someone who hasn’t come crashing through my door or roof yet.”
It was Vergil’s turn to chuckle at the image. “Yet?”
“Just yet,” the witch winked, “though I suppose I could have worse things come through my shop. It’s not every day a charming devil comes through to enjoy a good book and a nice spot of tea.” The two continued to look into each other’s eyes, almost as though hoping to find some other excuse for the other to try and stay longer, lips little more than a breath’s reach away as the warm light of the sun caressed their features. However, such a moment was painfully shattered and scattered into the wind as the phone from the front desk rang, tearing the pair from their trance, the pair each drawing back from their positions, albeit hesitant at first.
“I--uh...ahem, I should get that,” Y/N murmured, clearing her throat in an attempt to recollect herself, a barely noticeable of pink that graced the tops of her cheeks having caught the half devil’s gaze before the witch turned on her heel and headed toward the the other room.
Vergil could feel his heart pounding in his chest, all the while trying to resist the urge to reach out toward the witch as she took her leave. He wasn’t sure what in the world had seemed to have him so unlike his usual composed and controlled self. Even as she had left he could still smell the faintest trail of her perfume that had resonated off of her like the fragrance of a flower, leaving behind the faint yet distinct scent of pomegranate and black berries, causing the half devil’s mouth to water ever so slightly.
What was it about this woman that had him so wound up about him? He had barely known her a day and already his body was acting strange. Was it the fact she was a witch and this was just a side effect of her magic and charms? Was it simply the remaining poison coming to mess around with his head and senses, causing this almost euphoric high whenever he’d find himself close to her or whenever he’d simply see her smile or laugh? Never before had he come to feel anything like this and although he was by no means used to the feeling, a part of him had yet to resent it despite his attempt at denial.
Sliding his coat back on, Vergil took a few experimental steps forward, only continuing to walk until reaching the front of the shop, coming just in time to hear Y/N hang up the phone.
“Feeling up to heading back?” she asked upon noticing Vergil enter the room. “Lemme send you back with a little something for those aches and pains since there’s likely still a bit of leftover venom in your system. I doubt it’s anything too serious, but it can still leave you feeling sore until it’s completely out of your system.” Y/N bent down and reached into one of the nearby desk shelves, pulling out a palm sized jar with the image of a tiger decorated across its front. “Rub this on your muscles and you should be feeling better,” Y/N instructed, placing the jar into a nearby bag before also tossing in a piece of paper. “Oh, and here. This has my number and address in case you ever need to reach me for anything. And yes, that also includes mid-morning tea and brunch.”
“Are you sure you want a devil at your doorstep?” Vergil asked with a teasing smirk.
“It would certainly be more entertaining than dusting shelves and patching ceiling holes,” she smirked with a playful wink. “Besides, I like a good challenge. Oh! And before you head out, you’ll be wanting this,” she quickly added, briefly ducking into a nearby room only to come back with Yamato in hand. Though, upon closer inspection, Vergil couldn’t help but notice the small charm that had been woven into its ribbons.
“What’s this?” Vergil asked as he lifted the blade to examine it a bit more closely, admiring the fine silk ribbon tied with several rune inscribed dark blue beads that gently hung from Yamato ‘s sheath.
“Just a small protection charm I added to help keep demons off your tail for the next day or so while you fully recover. It’ll help cover your scent among other things so you’ll be harder to track. Well, that, and it’ll give your attacks a nice little power bonus if you do get into trouble” Y/N smiled proudly as she ran a hand through her hair. “Just a little something I thought a man of your tastes might appreciate. Consider it as a little gift between new friends.”
Friends. Although Vergil admittedly appreciated the sentiment, there was still that nagging feeling pulling at his chest. Surely just another effect of the lingering poison, he thought in dismissal as he softly shook his head. “Is there anything a woman of your skill can’t accomplish?”
“Oh I’m sure there’s something. Haven’t quite found it yet, but I’m sure I’ll manage,” Y/N grinned as she leaned against the counter top. “But I won’t keep you here anymore. Hope the tiger balm helps treat you kindly, and should you need anymore or anything else, my door is always open.”
Despite the nagging voice that pleaded with him to try and find an excuse to stay longer, Vergil was also keen on returning to Devil May Cry, primarily wishing to be able to continue his recovery in the comfort of his own room. He was sure that Dante would have his way with trying to tease him as soon as he’d return, but for once, as he found himself thumbing over and admiring the small protective charm, the thought of Dante’s teasing seemed like little more than a distant and minor issue. Rather, he merely found his mind filled with the thoughts of gentle moonlight and the sweet scent of black berries and pomegranate, all the while so gently wrapped with the gentle melody of her voice.
All the while blissfully unaware of what fate would have in store for the elder son of Sparda and his bewitching new friend and the eyes that so keenly laid just out of sight.
