(ex: fem/male/gn!reader, fandom/character name, extra stuff u like— fluff, angst, smut, hc, oneshot)
Underage & Adult will be automatically writen as platonic
What I'll Write
Character x Reader
Female & Gender Neutral Reader (may or may not write for Male, depends on the request)
One-Shot
Head Canon
Image / Scenario
Blood/Gore, Smut, Horror, Yandere, Toxic , Not Morally Good Character/Reader
> I do not condemn toxicity such as abuse, gaslight, manipulation, narcissism, misogyny, misandry, yandere, murder and many such in real life and shouldn't be practice in real life, if your having problem pls seek help to improve yourself to prevent harming others and yourself
> I only write such thing as to broaden my mind to these concepts and improve both my writing and understanding to action, consequence, reasoning why ppl do it. Again, I DO NOT condemn those stuff IRL and I just want to understand stuff more and improve my writing
What I'll Won't Write
Non-con
Age Gap [Adult x Minor] (especially grooming in this situation)
Incest
Character x Oc
Character x Character
The Owl House AU
» The Wittebane Brothers and The Wild Witches
Fandom I'll primary write/post for; (right now)
» Genshin Impact
» Honkai Star Rail
» To Be Hero X
Masterlist II
Wattpad
My Alt Blog / @reverie-tala
[just in case I suddenly lose access to this again]
hoe bout to die •ᴗ• ❤︎ just kidding. he's as resilient as fromsoftware silent protag. which is why he is also called tarnish from that one dumbass comic i made.
so has anyone written a timeloop fic where klein lives through his days in tingen from june 28 to september doomsday over and over but every loop gets weirder and weirder because more and more strangers are showing up out of nowhere wanting to help him like this vampire who keeps calling him detective and this lady author who can barely look him in the eye and what are pirates doing here in tingen why is leonard acting weirder and weirder what the hell is going on
For many years you’ve wandered the lands with your one and dearest friend, your sister in name only, Frieren, after the passing of your master, Flamme.
The years have been interesting. Watching as mages and magic has improved from the most complex of spells now being taught as the most basic offensive magic, it has been a wonder. You’ve seen the rise and fall of kingdoms and gathered many spells. So it’s a wonder you’ve never heard of a spell that could alter your state of being into another universe.
You’d accompanied Frieren with the hero party that had defeated the demon king, though you’d never truly been one for combat having preferred learning as many spells as possible and the different forms of magic, you’d still been a force to be reckoned with.
You’d also witnessed the wreckage that was Himmel’s feelings for her. You’d told him time and time again that for as brilliant as Frieren was, she was not at all adept at feelings and likely would never realize if she had feelings for many years. He’d laughed it off and you’d remembered the conversation you had at his funeral once Frieren had cried.
It was the first time you’d ever seen her cry in sadness in the hundreds of years you’d been together.
After that, you had joined her in taking in her apprentice Fern after the passing of Heiter, though Frieren reluctantly took her in, you had enjoyed bringing Fern into your life. She was a sweet girl and reminded you of Frieren in many aspects, though she was much more aware of feelings and emotions than Frieren was. Though, Fern was still quite blunt and doesn't emote very much.
The three of you traveled far before forming a party of your own with Eisen's apprentice, Stark, joining you. A sweet boy, not very sure of himself despite being immensely powerful in his own right. You thought he and Fern were adorable together.
It was deeper into your travels that you'd learned that you wouldn't be able to go further unless you had a first-class mage in your party. Thus, led to the three of you, Frieren, Fern and you, entering the first-class mage trials just in time, sadly leaving Stark to his own devices.
It was interesting, seeing the mages of this time and you truly did understand Frieren's words that she gave Fern regarding the magic needed to fight the mages of the current time period. Though, there were plenty of interesting mages, you weren't all that confident in some of them when it came to the next trial. It was during the second trial and when you'd been stuck at the bottom of the dungeon making plans for Frieren's clone that the Spiegel made that you had been discussing battle plans and strategies.
“Could you stand by that wall over there?”
Frieren stands up from her crouched position, walking over to the wall when Fern casts Zoltraak. In the blink of an eye, a defensive spell is over Frieren.
The group watches stunned, some muttering in disbelief as Fern just calmly asks.
“Did everyone notice?”
You just sigh as Frieren pats off the dust from the attack.
The two younger girls behind you just turn to each other.
“Did you?”
“Nope.”
Denken is the one who speaks next, voice still riddled with shock.
“This is Frieren’s fatal vulnerability. Why didn’t I notice when I fought her?”
You approach Frieren and fix her hair as she smiles at you, letting you fret over her.
“Your hair is so dusty now,” you pout, “all that work to do your hair and now I need to fix it.”
Frieren just tips her head down for you to fix her stray hairs and untangle her hair. It’s always been a habit of yours to fiddle with her hair, it’s so soft and silky!
“It wouldn’t surprise me if it was full of cobwebs by now.”
Denken just watches the both of you, still in disbelief that Frieren’s flaw was something so simple.
“When casting a spell, she stops detecting mana for a brief moment.”
The two girls in the back just raise their eyebrows.
“Isn’t that a common mistake made by apprentice mages?”
You pull Frieren’s hair to the front, hair now untangled as she calmly responds.
“I’ve never been very good about it.”
Fern just furrows her brows, slight annoyance peaking through her voice.
“If you’re aware of it, then why didn’t you say anything?”
Frieren just taps the tips of her fingers together in embarrassment as you snort at her actions.
“It’s mortifying to say the least.”
The two of you go back to sitting on the floor as a plan is made for Frieren and Fern to use this flaw against the clone.
Denken turns to you as Frieren and Fern go over their plan. It had been decided that they would be the ones to face the Frieren clone. You were fine with the decision, if anyone could beat Frieren's clone it was definitely Fern. He stares at you for a moment before finally speaking.
"I'm surprised you aren't going into the room with those two."
You turn to him with raised eyebrows.
“The less people that are in the room the better, Frieren is enough to distract the clone and Fern can handle herself. Although it would be fun to fight her clone.”
You tap your lips as you think on it. It has been a long time since you’d last fought seriously, not counting those demons in the village that Frieren nearly killed on the spot.
“Fun? I’m terrified even imagining fighting Frieren. I’m sensible enough to know that a fight with her would mean my death.”
You just chuckle at his words.
“Any sensible person would be. Though, my clone hasn’t been located yet, so someone needs to be able to fight her if she’s found, if someone hasn’t found her already.”
Denken’s eyes widen as tries to detect your clone and finds that he can’t. Same as Fern’s. He takes a look at you as you just listen to Frieren and Fern talk with a small smile on your face.
“Would you be fighting your clone?”
You look back at the younger man with a raised eyebrow, though there is a small, yet mischievous smile on your face.
“I’m mature enough to admit that I’m not the best at detecting mana when I cast either, Frieren is better than I am.”
You laugh it off just Denken just gives you a side eye.
“Though, it would be best if I was the one that fought my clone,” you look at Denken through your peripheral vision.
“I’m older than Frieren.”
Denken feels a shiver down his spine. He’d almost forgotten. The both of you were Elves that have lived more than triple his lifetime. You’d fought the Demon King. He couldn’t imagine the level of catastrophe that you could bring when provoked.
“We’ll need you to stay out here then.”
You just give him a smile, “that would be for the best.”
After the exam had concluded, the rest of the testers actually had to face Serie in order for her to bestow the title on you. It was always interesting to see Serie, you always did look forward to seeing her every once in a few hundred years, though when you faced off with her you fully expected her to not grant you the title of first-class mage, same as how she did with Frieren.
"So, she didn't grant you the title did she," you gave Frieren a glance who just gave you a small knowing smile as she twirled the ends of her hair with one hand.
"No."
You didn't say anything, just sighing before entering the room with Serie after Fern exits. Right away you noticed that her mana was fluctuating.
"Interesting."
She turned to you after you'd said the word, an eyebrow was lifted as she watched your eyes flit across her form.
"You can see my mana fluctuation."
A statement, not a question. You just nod at her as you step forward to look at the flowers she was crouched by.
"Those are the same flowers Flamme loved."
Serie doesn't say anything as she stands from her crouched position and looks you in the eyes.
"I had every intention of not passing you."
A fact you knew all too well as you gave her a smile and turned to walk out the door but was stopped at her next words.
"You pass. Do not make me regret it."
You turn back to her, only to see her with her back turned to you. You exhale a breath before giving her a smile and saying your goodbyes.
Apparently, Fern had noticed her fluctuation as well, a fact you'd learned after being let go after speaking with Serie.
"So, did you pass?"
Fern turns to you, an unusually hopeful look in her eye as you fiddle with your holy emblem. You turn the relic over in your hand before smiling at Fern.
"I did. I'm surprised Serie passed me. I guess there's something in me that she sees even after all this time."
That night the three of you joined back with Stark and ate a celebration meal at a tavern. While you were going to the ceremony for passing as a first-class mage and getting your spells, you'd learned that Frieren was banned from entering any of the facilities of the Continental Magic Association for the next thousand years.
"Of course she would ban you," you turn to Frieren who just makes a silly expression.
You sigh while Fern frowns as Frieren passes. You pat Fern on the head when she turns to you in surprise.
"She doesn't really care for ceremonies, she only came for you."
Fern turns back to Frieren with a small smile on her face as Stark says he'll stay with her to keep her company. The two of you then leave to go to the ceremony and enter with the others that have passed.
Time passes by slowly. Between the ceremony and waiting for everyone to get their spells you’re near dead on your feet. Once it gets to your turn, Serie gives you a sly smile.
“What spell would you like?”
She rests her head on one hand as she looks down at you. You pause and think before you blink. You know the perfect spell. As you say what you want you watch as Serie’s eye twitches before she grants it to you.
“You and Fern are insulting.”
She bids you away with the same look Frieren gets when she gets bashful, though you can see her irritation before you leave. You join Fern in exiting the building where you see Frieren and Stark waiting for you.
Frieren’s hair is pulled over her shoulders, but you can still see the gash on her shoulder and ripped clothing. You glance off to the side and see the same mage who’d let both you and Frieren pass with your holy emblems.
While Fern frets over Frieren you just summon your holy text to heal her. You also use the new spell you’d learned to fix her clothing.
She thanks you as Fern continues to fret until you get back to the inn you were staying at. Even if she was aloof, she still cared very deeply for her master, the thought brings a smile to your face as you watch her push food onto Frieren’s plate.
After night passes and the sun raises, you leave the city and make your way out when Frieren asks for what spells you asked for. Fern stops walking and stands with her arms out, a small smile on her face while Frieren crouches down to inspect her clothing.
Fern had asked for a clothes cleaning spell. It was brilliant and had you doubting your own spell choice.
"What about you, (Y/n)?"
You smile and point to Frieren’s right shoulder, where her clothes had been torn the night before from the sudden attack by that younger mage.
“That spell I used to fix your clothes, actually. I figured it’d come in handy.”
Frieren and Fern smile and nod while Stark just gives the three of you a side eye.
‘Weirdos.’
You leave the city and begin to walk through the woods, following the trail set as Fern and Stark talk amongst themselves. You turn to Frieren with a twinkle in your eye as she gives you a questioning look.
"What's with that look in your eye?"
"You think there are any dungeons around here?"
Frieren gains a small smile on her face as the lot of you travel further.
"There very well could be," she laughs lightly as your ears twitch at the thought. Grimoires, scrolls, ancient text, anything! There's still plenty of dungeons to be found and you'd be ecstatic to find one on your journey north.
A few days of travel pass when you come across a temple with a king's facade on the front.
You walk closer as Frieren walks around to see for any hidden push panels that would allow for you to enter. You walk around the temple, seeing a door as your ears perk up and you clap your hands together.
"Over here!"
Fern and Frieren jog over as Stark calmly walks, watching as the three of you get excited at the prospect of finding some new spells or new books.
"Let's go inside!"
You enter as Frieren follows behind you, Fern and Stark share a glance before entering after.
You walk the inside of the temple, following the rooms and stairways as you search every nook and cranny for any possible treasure. After some searching you find a chest and stand off to the side as Frieren inspects it.
"Don't do it," Fern warns carefully as you egg on Frieren, Stark watching confused from the side.
"Why don't you want her to open the chest?"
Fern just gives him a flat look as Frieren opens the chest slowly.
"It could be a mimic."
Just as Fern says the words you start to laugh as Frieren is pulled into the chest, torso first and being munched on by the now revealed mimic.
"Ah! Get me out! It's dark and damp in here!"
You hold your sides as your laughing stifles to giggles as you move forward to grab Frieren's waist and try to pull her out.
Stark offers a hand as Fern holds an arm out to stop him.
"Mistress Frieren when will you learn?"
You finally pull Frieren out with her covered in saliva, but proudly holding a grimoire in hand.
"A-hah!"
She flips through it eagerly as you watch over her shoulder and read the text that she flips through.
"Ooh this is a good one!"
She shakes it lightly to get any residual saliva off as she puts it away.
"Let's go further."
You nod as you follow her further in, walking downstairs as you hear stones and crunching through the temple. Fern and Stark follow closely behind, Stark looking at the detailing inside with wide eyes.
"This stuff looks ancient, what century is this from?"
Fern follows quietly as she touches the walls, feeling for any traces of magic or mana.
"There's a large amount of mana in here for something seemingly deserted."
You nod your head at her words as Frieren continues forward with a smile on her face before it falls abruptly.
"Too much mana, what direction did you say it was in?"
You sense an even larger amount of mana as you enter the room.
"Demons."
Just as you say that a large crash echoes through the room as dust flies forward and you watch with narrowed eyes as a male figure enters the room with large horns on his head.
Immediately, the three of your staffs are out and attacking the demon. More demons jump out and you hear a ringing sing out as Stark clashes his large battle axe with a blade that one of the demons holds.
"Shit! It's a horde!"
The battle commences as you take the defensive stance, while Frieren and Fern take the offensive. Demons are taken down one by one as the main leader stands behind, watching with cold calculating eyes. He takes note of Stark off to the side and raises his hand, ominous spell growing in the palm of his hand.
You turn to Stark and watch as a portal slowly grows beneath him, using a simple replacement spell you switch places with him and use a levitation spell to keep you afloat. As soon as Frieren goes to cast Zoltraak, you yelp as air sucks you in.
"Shit. Frieren, get the spell first befo-"
You're sucked into the portal, and it closes before you can finish your sentence as the rest of your party watches the place where the portal had just been.
Before anyone can say anything, Frieren uses a binding spell on the demon, anchoring him to the floor.
She looks down on him, eyes cold, as she points the end of her staff in his face.
"What spell did you just cast?"
The air around you is cold. You blink as you feel yourself falling and keep a firm grip on your staff as you turn your head slightly to see where you were.
You see the ground below you steadily coming closer and closer as you tilt your body so that you’re facing toward the sky and not the ground. Keeping a firm grip on your staff, similar in design to Frieren’s with the swirl, but having a more woodsy design with it looking like a deeply carved piece of wood with various ribbons tied to it.
“This is rather inconvenient,” you mumble as the air swishes past your ears, hair flying around as you steadily fall.
You turn your head so that you look at the ground and see the closest structure surrounded by woodlands. It looks nothing like the structure of the dungeon, so you can rule out that you’re at all close to the dungeon that your group had entered.
As the ground steadily gets closer and closer, you can see some figures on the ground. They look like little ants, but they have a flash of color. What looks to be a greenish blue, turquoise you believe is what the color was called.
Still looking down, you try to judge how much further you need to fall before you can finally cast a spell that will negate the falling.
“Probably a few more hundred feet, maybe a thousand.”
You sigh as you think about your scrolls that were left with Frieren and Fern. You could only hope that they had found something good in the dungeon. Unknown to you, Frieren and Fern were actually extracting information from the demon on the spell that was cast and were now researching how to bring you back.
You look back up at the sky and watch the clouds and birds that fly around. The birds are a little different than the ones you’ve normally seen in the land, but you disregard it as there isn’t any way for you to know every creature in the world.
You turn your head again, looking at the ground and now seeing that those same figures are now frantically running around and bring out another figure from their home and point up to where you’re assuming you are.
“Whoops.”
You look at your clothing before deciding that now you should be able to cast that spell, taking one brief glance down at the ground that you are now rapidly approaching as you hear screaming from what you assume to be some children.
“This isn’t nearly as bad as that bird that attacked us, poor Stark nearly soiled himself,” you laugh to yourself as the end of your staff starts to glow as you cast the negation spell.
You hit the ground a minute after casting it, landing against a tree as you take a minute to compose yourself.
“I’m alive, guess I judged that spell just right,” you dust off your clothing and pat your hair down from its frizzy state. You look up to see a group of girls running towards you in that same greenish blue uniform, one that you now identify as a cloak of some kind.
“Ah, hello, my apologies, I hope I haven’t disrupted you.”
You look at your clothes. Your skirt was ripped and your tights were torn from the scuffle with those demons.
You sigh as you cast the clothes mending spell and the girls watch in shock and awe as your clothes mend themselves together before reverting to what they assume they’re supposed to look like.
They stare at you, eyes wide open and mouths dropped nearly to the floor as you just pat yourself down and look at the ground that you’d landed on. The terrain was in disarray. Dirt and grass pulled up and rocks smashed, the tree you had landed on was tilted back.
“Ah,” you blink as you turn to the tree and take a look before muttering a different spell, staff end once again glowing before the terrain reverts back to the state it was in before you’d crashed.
“That should do it,” you turn to the girls who still haven’t moved, too much in a state of shock to do much of anything.
"How did you do that?!"
"You don't even have a quill or ink?"
"What's with your ears?"
"Where's your hat?"
You hold you staff with both hands at an angle as three of the four girls in front of you bombard you with questions.
"Um," you mumble as they nearly topple you over, the one with the pink hair being the closest to you. She has a grip on your dress and looks at the place where your clothes stitched together.
"There's no ink or anything on it! And it's completely mended!"
"Your ears are so cool! Look at how pointed they are!"
The girl with the green hair is pointing at your ears now.
"Girls-"
The girl with the blue hair is holding your cloak and her small hands are trailing the wood grain of your staff.
"Is this a giant pen? Your dress is all clean even though you hit the ground."
The last girl with a deep purple hair has her arms folded and her purple eyes are raking over your form with a frown on her face. Despite the scowl on her face, she doesn’t hide her curiosity well.
'She reminds me of Fern when she was just a young girl, though with much more of an attitude.'
“Girls!”
They stop their searching of your body at your voice.
“Thank you, do you know where I am?”
The pink haired girl is the one to respond as she points to the building in the distance.
“You’re near our atelier!”
“‘Atelier?’”
She nods enthusiastically, throwing her hands up as she spins around and excitedly chats about how wonderful the atelier is. Coco joins in as she talks about how she loves learning magic and is so happy to be where she is.
You give the girls a smile, always being weak at heart for children. These girls remind you of Fern and how adorable she was as a child.
'I miss the girls and Stark, I hope they got out safely,' a sad smile etches across your face before it falls, no point in worrying. They can take care of themselves, you just need to figure out how to get back to them.
The girls calm down enough to finally get a good look at you. Namely your ears as the dark-haired girl points to them.
"Why do your ears look like that?"
Your hand comes up to your pointed ears, messing with the earring you have in before it falls as you speak.
"Ah, I suppose it's not unheard of for people to not see an elf, we're not a common species anymore."
The girls just give you a bewildered look.
"Elf?"
"What's an elf?"
"Elves aren't real, they're only fairy tales."
Your brows furrow slightly as you listen to them talk amongst themselves, "I can assure you, I am very real."
"They have to be fake, a trick to make them pointed."
You lean and tilt your head down.
"You're more than welcome to feel them.”
The blue-haired girl reaches forward and pulls on them lightly, they don't come off and she can't see any drawings that would magically make them pointed.
"They're real," she breathes out, awe in her voice.
"I didn't get your names, my name is (Y/n)."
You stand back up to your full height, brushing your hair behind your ears.
"I'm Coco!"
The green-haired girl points to herself with a large smile on her face, followed by the pink-haired girl who enthusiastically jumps.
"I'm Tetia! That's Richeh! And Agott!"
She points to the blue-haired girl and dark-haired girl respectively. Richeh quietly lifts a hand in a wave, while Agott scowls.
"I can introduce myself," she grumbles.
You nod your head to them.
"Lovely to meet you girls, sorry for crash landing here. I was in a dungeon and got hit with a spell and started falling here. I just hope Frieren is able to figure out what spell it is."
Coco and Tetia tilt their heads in curiosity.
"A dungeon? What's a dungeon?"
"Who's Frieren?"
At those words your face falls. You aren't surprised the girls don't know who Frieren is, most people only really knew Himmel as the one to kill the Demon King, but to not know a dungeon?
"A dungeon is a place where you can typically find treasure and mimics, maybe demons. A lot of adventurers go in them for riches."
Now Agott's attention is brought to you, a frown on her face.
"Demons? Mimics? What in the world are those?"
Your brows furrow further.
"Demons? Well, I'm not surprised you're not familiar with them, but does the name Demon King happen to mean anything to you?"
Richeh shakes her head as she pulls her hair forward and brushes through it softly.
"I've never heard of a Demon King," Agott mumbles, hands falling to her side as she frowns back at you.
At her words you take a seat on the ground with a sigh. It certainly is a shock that they don't know about demons, you would figure the adults in their life would warn them about the dangers of the creatures.
You set your staff on the ground as you hold your hands up and cast an illusionary spell.
"These are demons, or they were before Frieren and I killed them."
The girls watch in shock and awe as many images flash before them of magic spells being cast wordlessly and figures flying with horns on their heads.
"How are you doing that?"
Coco mumbles, eyes wide and sparkling.
"What? The illusion spell? It's not very difficult I could teach you."
She claps her hands together and sits down in front of you.
"Yes! Please! But wait, you don’t have any ink or a quill or anything on you."
You tilt your head as the spell goes away and you set your hands on the ground next to you.
"You don't need a quill and ink to cast magic? Where did you hear that?"
The girls exclaim in shock and disagreement at your words, even Agott's usual stony expression has morphed into one of shock as her eyebrows fly up.
"Of course you need a quill and magic ink to cast! How else would you practice magic!"
You blink as you let the words sink in. You lean back on your hands as Tetia shakes Richeh back and forth, the former's face being blank as she allows the pink-haired girl to do so.
"By using mana?"
Tetia stops shaking Richeh as the girl fixes her hair.
"What's mana?"
Your eyes are wide now at her words as you repeat the question to yourself.
"Mana is internal, it's an energy found in everyone. Tell me, can you see this?"
You cease your mana suppression and let the full force of your mana take over the area. The force of it is enough to make the plants flutter softly, but the girls just blink at you.
"See what?"
Your mouth falls slightly as you suppress your mana once more, it coming closer to your body and resuming its constant low output.
"You can't see it."
You furrow your brows once more thinking on their words. They can't see mana. If they seemingly are mages, they should be able to at least sense your mana, especially when you stopped suppressing it. You stand dust yourself off, patting your dress and grabbing your staff as the girls follow.
"So, you use this to cast magic?"
Coco, as you learned her name was, questions you, gesturing to your staff. You give her a smile and shake your head.
"It's not necessary to have a staff to cast magic, it acts as a conduit for casting more precise magic, that is all. I can cast just as easily without it."
Her eyes light up as the three other girls listen to you in awe.
"I must ask, what are you children doing out here by yourselves?"
"We're not by ourselves!"
Tetia has her fists balled together as she looks up at you. She points behind her to the building in the distance.
"We live there! In the atelier with Quifrey and Olruggio!"
Agott, snaps at her, pulling her back with a glare on her face.
"Don't tell a stranger where we live! We don't know if she's with the brimhats!"
Tetia has a frown on her face and looks sheepish as Richeh presses the fabric of your dress against her face.
"So soft."
You pat the girls head and look at Tetia who tries to get her footing after being scolded by Agott.
"I mean no harm, I can promise you that. Though, I would appreciate being pointed to the nearest town. I need to research which spell could have sent me here."
Coco claps her hands together and looks at Tetia.
"Maybe Quifrey knows! Or Olruggio!"
Richeh nods as she keeps a hand on your dress. You're starting to be dragged forward by the three girls as Agott reluctantly follows as you're lead to the large building.
Coco and Tetia chatter excitedly at the prospect of introducing you to the two adults they'd mentioned and practically hum with anticipation as you're brought closer and closer.
“Oh, and what’s a brimhat?”
At those words, the girls stop abruptly. You’re just in front of the door and Richeh has her hand on the handle when Agott gives you a weary look.
“A brimhat practices forbidden magic, any witch would know that.”
You glance at her before looking at the girls, they noticeably wear hats that are pointed but sport no brims.
“Forbidden magic?”
The notion of forbidden magic is strange to you. Yes, there were certainly spells wielded that were awful and dangerous, but they were considered black magic, sometimes forbidden magic. Though you and Frieren were of the same belief that curses were magic that you simply didn’t understand. You’d nearly forgotten that in your long life. You try to think if you even know any forbidden spells yourself.
All magic is dangerous, you must be careful when you wield it. That was your belief, any spell could be altered so you must always be vigilant. It was one of the few things you’d taken the care to teach Fern.
“Yes, forbidden magic! If a brimhat is ever seen they must be repo-”
Tetiah is cut off as the door opens to a man with white hair, a pair of spectacles with the right lense noticeably blacked out. He looks at the girls before looking at you.
“Who might this be?”
His gaze, though tender with the girls, falls weary on you. Coco and Tetia have a hand on your dress and a hand on your arm that holds a large staff.
“I fell from the sky, the girls were kind enough to see if I was alright.”
You stare blankly at the man as he doesn’t say anything at first. He then raises his left arm as he speaks to the girls.
“Girls, get behind me.”
“Wait, Quifrey! She’s really nice!”
“Get behind me.”
Coco and Tetia give you a concerned look, but they all do as he says.
You merely stay in place as the girls move behind this “Quifrey” and watch you from behind his back, even Agott with her arms crossed looks at you to see what will happen.
You exhale sharply and stand up a little straighter.
“I mean no harm if that is the concern, to be honest I’d rather find my party to see what they found in the dungeon.”
Quifrey narrows his eyes at you and tries to get a sense of your abilities. You hold a staff, rocking back and forth on your heels with no worry despite the fact that he clearly doesn’t trust you.
“Who are you?”
You stop rocking as you look the man in the eye with a small smile.
“My name is (Y/n), one of the last elves and I just want to go home.”
He eyes you up and down, noticeably glancing at your ears. He’d heard of elves of course, but they were fiction. Tall tales of a greater species, they didn’t exist.
“Of course, girls why don’t you wait inside, while I speak with her.”
There are numerous cries against this from Tetia and Coco, even Richeh pouts a bit, but Quifrey just gives them a small smile and pushes them further inside.
“Now girls, is this how we act in front of a guest?”
They quiet down as they huff out a breath and shake their heads.
“Better, now we’ll just be a moment, practice your line work while I speak with our guest.”
He closes the door as he glances back at you, smile no longer on his face as you simply give him a neutral look back.
“Who or what are you?”
Your eyebrows lift lightly.
“I’m not a brimhat if that is your concern. Agott was kind enough to explain what that is.”
Quifrey doesn’t respond as he gives you a weary look. You simply sigh and place down your staff, lightly pushing it toward him as he glances down at it.
“I’m a mage, if you don’t believe me I can cast a spell, but since you don’t trust me, as you shouldn’t trust any stranger, you can hold onto my staff.”
He leans down and grabs the staff, it’s weathered but clearly well taken care of. The ribbons tied onto it with a gem on the end sparkle in the light as he twists the staff to inspect it. He holds it out to you as you extend a handout to grab it, only for him to lift it just out of reach.
“You said you fell from the sky?”
You nod as you briefly glance up, then back at the staff, hand still extended.
“That is what I said.”
He slowly lowers the staff into your hand, though his shoulders are still tense.
“Well, it would be best to see if you are alright, please come inside.”
You raise a single eyebrow. You’d expected him to put up more of a fight, you know you certainly would have if you were in his shoes. Nonetheless, you nod and keep your staff at your side, choosing not to put it away. If what the girls said was true and they needed to draw with ink to make a spell then it would be wise to not show your ability unless asked.
He turns from you to the door and puts his hand on the handle as he beckons you forward.
“By all means, please come in.”
You follow slowly as you enter the home and the door closes behind you.
It’s a nice home, there’s a pot on the stove that simmers. The girls are at a table in the center working on their lines as they look up and Tetia runs over to greet you, though she acts as if she hasn’t seen you in a millennia.
“(Y/n)!”
She throws her arms around you and grabs the sides of your dress as you smile down at the pink haired girl.
“You just saw me,” you muse as she beams up at you, Coco soon follows after as she inspects your staff, playing with the ribbons and gems tied on.
“Wow! So pretty!”
Her fingertips lightly graze a ruby that’s tied on with a red ribbon, a matching ribbon with Frieren. Tetia pulls you to the table so you can look at her lines.
“Look! My lines are almost perfect!”
Agott just side eyes Tetia, mumbling about how she should show her lines if they are perfect not nearly perfect. You glance at Agotts work and point at it.
“These are beautiful lines, you’ll be a powerful witch, I’m sure of it.”
Agott glances up at you but flits her eyes back down as she furiously works on her next set of lines, “whatever,” she grumbles though you can see that the tips of her ears are flushed.
Richeh holds up her own linework for you to compliment, face neutral but holding an expectant look in her eye.
“Very nice, Richeh! You draw with purpose, it’s wonderful.”
She takes your compliment with a proud look in her eye as your gaze falls onto Quifrey leaning against the counter, who watches how you interact with the girls, his face is neutral but there’s a fondness there pointed at the girls. You muse that they must be like daughters to him, the same way Fern is to you and Frieren.
Ah, Fern. She’s taller than both you and Frieren now, you remember when she came up to your ribs. How they grow so fast.
He steps away from the counter and goes beside you, hand lingering on your arm that holds your staff.
“Girls, how would one of you like to show our guest around our atelier?”
Three of the girls perk up with Coco and Tetia calling out for them to show you around, while Richeh holds both her hands clenched in fists and a sparkle in her eye.
“Alright, alright two of you can show her around,” Quifrey watches as Tetia, Coco, and Richeh choose amongst themselves who will show you around. They’re chattering to themselves until Coco and Richeh stand and go to grab your arms, Richeh pointing ahead and Coco gabbing about how you’ll love it.
They lead you away as Quifrey watches your forms leave and round the corner. He turns to Tetia, who pouts, and Agott, who’s calmed down and ears have gone back to normal.
“Now girls, what do you know of our elf guest?”
Agott blinks at Quifrey, setting down her charcoal pencil and Tetia places her hands on her face.
“Wah, she’s an elf! An actual elf! And she fixed her clothes without needing to draw a spell!”
Quifrey quietly listens as Tetia prattles about how you also fixed the landscape with a wave of your staff and that the tip of it glowed as the landscape reverted itself to how it was before you crashed.
Agott is quiet until Quifrey turns to her, “Agott? Is there anything else that you noticed about her?”
Agott purses her lips before she speaks.
“She said something about mana, how it’s in all living things and she presumably did something with her own. We didn’t see it, but I noticed that the grass and leaves swayed before she asked if we could see it.”
Quifrey furrows his brows as he brings a hand to his face and holds his chin.
“Mana? I’ve never heard of such a thing. You say she can cast spells without drawing them, Tetia?”
Tetia turns to him, blissful expression no longer on her face, though her hands stay on her face as she blinks at him in confusion.
“Yeah, she said she’d never heard of needing a quill and ink to cast magic. She looked very confused.”
Quifrey hums to himself in thought as he thinks about what the girls are telling him. If what they say is true, you pose a dangerous threat to them, no not to just them but to all of humanity. A witch who can cast magic without needing a quill and ink is even more dangerous than a brim hat.
He leans on the table before standing and reaching for his hat, he glanced at the girls before checking to see that his spell is still drawn clearly on the inside. He takes a deep inhale before placing his hat back down as he hears Coco and Richeh approaching with you in tow.
He plasters on an easygoing smile as the three of you enter the room.
“How was the tour girls?”
He side eyes you as you take a seat at the table next to Tetia, she eagerly shows you her line work and you trace the line with a finger. Quifrey’s eyes narrow in suspicion before being wiped from his face as he peaks Coco watching him from the corner of his eye.
“What’s wrong Quifrey?”
Coco tilts her head as she stands by him, he merely hums at her words and pats her head.
“Nothing,” he keeps his eyes on you as you rub your finger and thumb together, “nothing at all.”
You bring your brows together as your finger and thumb come together, ink smearing lightly and crumbling away. You can sense nothing from this ink, though one glance at the bubbling pot on the stove lends you a feeling of something coming from it. You wipe your fingers on your dress as you lift a hand at the pot.
"There's something off about that pot, is there something drawn on it?"
Agott lifts her brows at you, sending a glance to Quifrey who moves to lift the lid and show you the inscribed ink on the pot lid.
"Yes, this sigil keeps the food fresh as the day it was made," he shows you the lid so you can inspect it closer. You trace your fingers on the ink with a tilt of your head.
"Fascinating, I assume you have to redraw the sigil?"
Quifrey hums with a small smile, "correct. I redraw the seal often due to the steam."
You bring your hand to your hair to twirl your hair as you think. You glance at Coco, then Tetia who looks like she wants to braid your hair. Then you look at Agott who avoids your gaze, though you know she was looking at you. Lastly, you look at Richeh who has now gone back to practicing her linework, then Quifrey. At the man, you give him a small, inquisitive smile.
For many years you’ve wandered the lands with your one and dearest friend, your sister in name only, Frieren, after the passing of your master, Flamme.
The years have been interesting. Watching as mages and magic has improved from the most complex of spells now being taught as the most basic offensive magic, it has been a wonder. You’ve seen the rise and fall of kingdoms and gathered many spells. So it’s a wonder you’ve never heard of a spell that could alter your state of being into another universe.
You’d accompanied Frieren with the hero party that had defeated the demon king, though you’d never truly been one for combat having preferred learning as many spells as possible and the different forms of magic, you’d still been a force to be reckoned with.
You’d also witnessed the wreckage that was Himmel’s feelings for her. You’d told him time and time again that for as brilliant as Frieren was, she was not at all adept at feelings and likely would never realize if she had feelings for many years. He’d laughed it off and you’d remembered the conversation you had at his funeral once Frieren had cried.
It was the first time you’d ever seen her cry in sadness in the hundreds of years you’d been together.
After that, you had joined her in taking in her apprentice Fern after the passing of Heiter, though Frieren reluctantly took her in, you had enjoyed bringing Fern into your life. She was a sweet girl and reminded you of Frieren in many aspects, though she was much more aware of feelings and emotions than Frieren was. Though, Fern was still quite blunt and doesn't emote very much.
The three of you traveled far before forming a party of your own with Eisen's apprentice, Stark, joining you. A sweet boy, not very sure of himself despite being immensely powerful in his own right. You thought he and Fern were adorable together.
It was deeper into your travels that you'd learned that you wouldn't be able to go further unless you had a first-class mage in your party. Thus, led to the three of you, Frieren, Fern and you, entering the first-class mage trials just in time, sadly leaving Stark to his own devices.
It was interesting, seeing the mages of this time and you truly did understand Frieren's words that she gave Fern regarding the magic needed to fight the mages of the current time period. Though, there were plenty of interesting mages, you weren't all that confident in some of them when it came to the next trial. It was during the second trial and when you'd been stuck at the bottom of the dungeon making plans for Frieren's clone that the Spiegel made that you had been discussing battle plans and strategies.
“Could you stand by that wall over there?”
Frieren stands up from her crouched position, walking over to the wall when Fern casts Zoltraak. In the blink of an eye, a defensive spell is over Frieren.
The group watches stunned, some muttering in disbelief as Fern just calmly asks.
“Did everyone notice?”
You just sigh as Frieren pats off the dust from the attack.
The two younger girls behind you just turn to each other.
“Did you?”
“Nope.”
Denken is the one who speaks next, voice still riddled with shock.
“This is Frieren’s fatal vulnerability. Why didn’t I notice when I fought her?”
You approach Frieren and fix her hair as she smiles at you, letting you fret over her.
“Your hair is so dusty now,” you pout, “all that work to do your hair and now I need to fix it.”
Frieren just tips her head down for you to fix her stray hairs and untangle her hair. It’s always been a habit of yours to fiddle with her hair, it’s so soft and silky!
“It wouldn’t surprise me if it was full of cobwebs by now.”
Denken just watches the both of you, still in disbelief that Frieren’s flaw was something so simple.
“When casting a spell, she stops detecting mana for a brief moment.”
The two girls in the back just raise their eyebrows.
“Isn’t that a common mistake made by apprentice mages?”
You pull Frieren’s hair to the front, hair now untangled as she calmly responds.
“I’ve never been very good about it.”
Fern just furrows her brows, slight annoyance peaking through her voice.
“If you’re aware of it, then why didn’t you say anything?”
Frieren just taps the tips of her fingers together in embarrassment as you snort at her actions.
“It’s mortifying to say the least.”
The two of you go back to sitting on the floor as a plan is made for Frieren and Fern to use this flaw against the clone.
Denken turns to you as Frieren and Fern go over their plan. It had been decided that they would be the ones to face the Frieren clone. You were fine with the decision, if anyone could beat Frieren's clone it was definitely Fern. He stares at you for a moment before finally speaking.
"I'm surprised you aren't going into the room with those two."
You turn to him with raised eyebrows.
“The less people that are in the room the better, Frieren is enough to distract the clone and Fern can handle herself. Although it would be fun to fight her clone.”
You tap your lips as you think on it. It has been a long time since you’d last fought seriously, not counting those demons in the village that Frieren nearly killed on the spot.
“Fun? I’m terrified even imagining fighting Frieren. I’m sensible enough to know that a fight with her would mean my death.”
You just chuckle at his words.
“Any sensible person would be. Though, my clone hasn’t been located yet, so someone needs to be able to fight her if she’s found, if someone hasn’t found her already.”
Denken’s eyes widen as tries to detect your clone and finds that he can’t. Same as Fern’s. He takes a look at you as you just listen to Frieren and Fern talk with a small smile on your face.
“Would you be fighting your clone?”
You look back at the younger man with a raised eyebrow, though there is a small, yet mischievous smile on your face.
“I’m mature enough to admit that I’m not the best at detecting mana when I cast either, Frieren is better than I am.”
You laugh it off just Denken just gives you a side eye.
“Though, it would be best if I was the one that fought my clone,” you look at Denken through your peripheral vision.
“I’m older than Frieren.”
Denken feels a shiver down his spine. He’d almost forgotten. The both of you were Elves that have lived more than triple his lifetime. You’d fought the Demon King. He couldn’t imagine the level of catastrophe that you could bring when provoked.
“We’ll need you to stay out here then.”
You just give him a smile, “that would be for the best.”
After the exam had concluded, the rest of the testers actually had to face Serie in order for her to bestow the title on you. It was always interesting to see Serie, you always did look forward to seeing her every once in a few hundred years, though when you faced off with her you fully expected her to not grant you the title of first-class mage, same as how she did with Frieren.
"So, she didn't grant you the title did she," you gave Frieren a glance who just gave you a small knowing smile as she twirled the ends of her hair with one hand.
"No."
You didn't say anything, just sighing before entering the room with Serie after Fern exits. Right away you noticed that her mana was fluctuating.
"Interesting."
She turned to you after you'd said the word, an eyebrow was lifted as she watched your eyes flit across her form.
"You can see my mana fluctuation."
A statement, not a question. You just nod at her as you step forward to look at the flowers she was crouched by.
"Those are the same flowers Flamme loved."
Serie doesn't say anything as she stands from her crouched position and looks you in the eyes.
"I had every intention of not passing you."
A fact you knew all too well as you gave her a smile and turned to walk out the door but was stopped at her next words.
"You pass. Do not make me regret it."
You turn back to her, only to see her with her back turned to you. You exhale a breath before giving her a smile and saying your goodbyes.
Apparently, Fern had noticed her fluctuation as well, a fact you'd learned after being let go after speaking with Serie.
"So, did you pass?"
Fern turns to you, an unusually hopeful look in her eye as you fiddle with your holy emblem. You turn the relic over in your hand before smiling at Fern.
"I did. I'm surprised Serie passed me. I guess there's something in me that she sees even after all this time."
That night the three of you joined back with Stark and ate a celebration meal at a tavern. While you were going to the ceremony for passing as a first-class mage and getting your spells, you'd learned that Frieren was banned from entering any of the facilities of the Continental Magic Association for the next thousand years.
"Of course she would ban you," you turn to Frieren who just makes a silly expression.
You sigh while Fern frowns as Frieren passes. You pat Fern on the head when she turns to you in surprise.
"She doesn't really care for ceremonies, she only came for you."
Fern turns back to Frieren with a small smile on her face as Stark says he'll stay with her to keep her company. The two of you then leave to go to the ceremony and enter with the others that have passed.
Time passes by slowly. Between the ceremony and waiting for everyone to get their spells you’re near dead on your feet. Once it gets to your turn, Serie gives you a sly smile.
“What spell would you like?”
She rests her head on one hand as she looks down at you. You pause and think before you blink. You know the perfect spell. As you say what you want you watch as Serie’s eye twitches before she grants it to you.
“You and Fern are insulting.”
She bids you away with the same look Frieren gets when she gets bashful, though you can see her irritation before you leave. You join Fern in exiting the building where you see Frieren and Stark waiting for you.
Frieren’s hair is pulled over her shoulders, but you can still see the gash on her shoulder and ripped clothing. You glance off to the side and see the same mage who’d let both you and Frieren pass with your holy emblems.
While Fern frets over Frieren you just summon your holy text to heal her. You also use the new spell you’d learned to fix her clothing.
She thanks you as Fern continues to fret until you get back to the inn you were staying at. Even if she was aloof, she still cared very deeply for her master, the thought brings a smile to your face as you watch her push food onto Frieren’s plate.
After night passes and the sun raises, you leave the city and make your way out when Frieren asks for what spells you asked for. Fern stops walking and stands with her arms out, a small smile on her face while Frieren crouches down to inspect her clothing.
Fern had asked for a clothes cleaning spell. It was brilliant and had you doubting your own spell choice.
"What about you, (Y/n)?"
You smile and point to Frieren’s right shoulder, where her clothes had been torn the night before from the sudden attack by that younger mage.
“That spell I used to fix your clothes, actually. I figured it’d come in handy.”
Frieren and Fern smile and nod while Stark just gives the three of you a side eye.
‘Weirdos.’
You leave the city and begin to walk through the woods, following the trail set as Fern and Stark talk amongst themselves. You turn to Frieren with a twinkle in your eye as she gives you a questioning look.
"What's with that look in your eye?"
"You think there are any dungeons around here?"
Frieren gains a small smile on her face as the lot of you travel further.
"There very well could be," she laughs lightly as your ears twitch at the thought. Grimoires, scrolls, ancient text, anything! There's still plenty of dungeons to be found and you'd be ecstatic to find one on your journey north.
A few days of travel pass when you come across a temple with a king's facade on the front.
You walk closer as Frieren walks around to see for any hidden push panels that would allow for you to enter. You walk around the temple, seeing a door as your ears perk up and you clap your hands together.
"Over here!"
Fern and Frieren jog over as Stark calmly walks, watching as the three of you get excited at the prospect of finding some new spells or new books.
"Let's go inside!"
You enter as Frieren follows behind you, Fern and Stark share a glance before entering after.
You walk the inside of the temple, following the rooms and stairways as you search every nook and cranny for any possible treasure. After some searching you find a chest and stand off to the side as Frieren inspects it.
"Don't do it," Fern warns carefully as you egg on Frieren, Stark watching confused from the side.
"Why don't you want her to open the chest?"
Fern just gives him a flat look as Frieren opens the chest slowly.
"It could be a mimic."
Just as Fern says the words you start to laugh as Frieren is pulled into the chest, torso first and being munched on by the now revealed mimic.
"Ah! Get me out! It's dark and damp in here!"
You hold your sides as your laughing stifles to giggles as you move forward to grab Frieren's waist and try to pull her out.
Stark offers a hand as Fern holds an arm out to stop him.
"Mistress Frieren when will you learn?"
You finally pull Frieren out with her covered in saliva, but proudly holding a grimoire in hand.
"A-hah!"
She flips through it eagerly as you watch over her shoulder and read the text that she flips through.
"Ooh this is a good one!"
She shakes it lightly to get any residual saliva off as she puts it away.
"Let's go further."
You nod as you follow her further in, walking downstairs as you hear stones and crunching through the temple. Fern and Stark follow closely behind, Stark looking at the detailing inside with wide eyes.
"This stuff looks ancient, what century is this from?"
Fern follows quietly as she touches the walls, feeling for any traces of magic or mana.
"There's a large amount of mana in here for something seemingly deserted."
You nod your head at her words as Frieren continues forward with a smile on her face before it falls abruptly.
"Too much mana, what direction did you say it was in?"
You sense an even larger amount of mana as you enter the room.
"Demons."
Just as you say that a large crash echoes through the room as dust flies forward and you watch with narrowed eyes as a male figure enters the room with large horns on his head.
Immediately, the three of your staffs are out and attacking the demon. More demons jump out and you hear a ringing sing out as Stark clashes his large battle axe with a blade that one of the demons holds.
"Shit! It's a horde!"
The battle commences as you take the defensive stance, while Frieren and Fern take the offensive. Demons are taken down one by one as the main leader stands behind, watching with cold calculating eyes. He takes note of Stark off to the side and raises his hand, ominous spell growing in the palm of his hand.
You turn to Stark and watch as a portal slowly grows beneath him, using a simple replacement spell you switch places with him and use a levitation spell to keep you afloat. As soon as Frieren goes to cast Zoltraak, you yelp as air sucks you in.
"Shit. Frieren, get the spell first befo-"
You're sucked into the portal, and it closes before you can finish your sentence as the rest of your party watches the place where the portal had just been.
Before anyone can say anything, Frieren uses a binding spell on the demon, anchoring him to the floor.
She looks down on him, eyes cold, as she points the end of her staff in his face.
"What spell did you just cast?"
The air around you is cold. You blink as you feel yourself falling and keep a firm grip on your staff as you turn your head slightly to see where you were.
You see the ground below you steadily coming closer and closer as you tilt your body so that you’re facing toward the sky and not the ground. Keeping a firm grip on your staff, similar in design to Frieren’s with the swirl, but having a more woodsy design with it looking like a deeply carved piece of wood with various ribbons tied to it.
“This is rather inconvenient,” you mumble as the air swishes past your ears, hair flying around as you steadily fall.
You turn your head so that you look at the ground and see the closest structure surrounded by woodlands. It looks nothing like the structure of the dungeon, so you can rule out that you’re at all close to the dungeon that your group had entered.
As the ground steadily gets closer and closer, you can see some figures on the ground. They look like little ants, but they have a flash of color. What looks to be a greenish blue, turquoise you believe is what the color was called.
Still looking down, you try to judge how much further you need to fall before you can finally cast a spell that will negate the falling.
“Probably a few more hundred feet, maybe a thousand.”
You sigh as you think about your scrolls that were left with Frieren and Fern. You could only hope that they had found something good in the dungeon. Unknown to you, Frieren and Fern were actually extracting information from the demon on the spell that was cast and were now researching how to bring you back.
You look back up at the sky and watch the clouds and birds that fly around. The birds are a little different than the ones you’ve normally seen in the land, but you disregard it as there isn’t any way for you to know every creature in the world.
You turn your head again, looking at the ground and now seeing that those same figures are now frantically running around and bring out another figure from their home and point up to where you’re assuming you are.
“Whoops.”
You look at your clothing before deciding that now you should be able to cast that spell, taking one brief glance down at the ground that you are now rapidly approaching as you hear screaming from what you assume to be some children.
“This isn’t nearly as bad as that bird that attacked us, poor Stark nearly soiled himself,” you laugh to yourself as the end of your staff starts to glow as you cast the negation spell.
You hit the ground a minute after casting it, landing against a tree as you take a minute to compose yourself.
“I’m alive, guess I judged that spell just right,” you dust off your clothing and pat your hair down from its frizzy state. You look up to see a group of girls running towards you in that same greenish blue uniform, one that you now identify as a cloak of some kind.
“Ah, hello, my apologies, I hope I haven’t disrupted you.”
You look at your clothes. Your skirt was ripped and your tights were torn from the scuffle with those demons.
You sigh as you cast the clothes mending spell and the girls watch in shock and awe as your clothes mend themselves together before reverting to what they assume they’re supposed to look like.
They stare at you, eyes wide open and mouths dropped nearly to the floor as you just pat yourself down and look at the ground that you’d landed on. The terrain was in disarray. Dirt and grass pulled up and rocks smashed, the tree you had landed on was tilted back.
“Ah,” you blink as you turn to the tree and take a look before muttering a different spell, staff end once again glowing before the terrain reverts back to the state it was in before you’d crashed.
“That should do it,” you turn to the girls who still haven’t moved, too much in a state of shock to do much of anything.
"How did you do that?!"
"You don't even have a quill or ink?"
"What's with your ears?"
"Where's your hat?"
You hold you staff with both hands at an angle as three of the four girls in front of you bombard you with questions.
"Um," you mumble as they nearly topple you over, the one with the pink hair being the closest to you. She has a grip on your dress and looks at the place where your clothes stitched together.
"There's no ink or anything on it! And it's completely mended!"
"Your ears are so cool! Look at how pointed they are!"
The girl with the green hair is pointing at your ears now.
"Girls-"
The girl with the blue hair is holding your cloak and her small hands are trailing the wood grain of your staff.
"Is this a giant pen? Your dress is all clean even though you hit the ground."
The last girl with a deep purple hair has her arms folded and her purple eyes are raking over your form with a frown on her face. Despite the scowl on her face, she doesn’t hide her curiosity well.
'She reminds me of Fern when she was just a young girl, though with much more of an attitude.'
“Girls!”
They stop their searching of your body at your voice.
“Thank you, do you know where I am?”
The pink haired girl is the one to respond as she points to the building in the distance.
“You’re near our atelier!”
“‘Atelier?’”
She nods enthusiastically, throwing her hands up as she spins around and excitedly chats about how wonderful the atelier is. Coco joins in as she talks about how she loves learning magic and is so happy to be where she is.
You give the girls a smile, always being weak at heart for children. These girls remind you of Fern and how adorable she was as a child.
'I miss the girls and Stark, I hope they got out safely,' a sad smile etches across your face before it falls, no point in worrying. They can take care of themselves, you just need to figure out how to get back to them.
The girls calm down enough to finally get a good look at you. Namely your ears as the dark-haired girl points to them.
"Why do your ears look like that?"
Your hand comes up to your pointed ears, messing with the earring you have in before it falls as you speak.
"Ah, I suppose it's not unheard of for people to not see an elf, we're not a common species anymore."
The girls just give you a bewildered look.
"Elf?"
"What's an elf?"
"Elves aren't real, they're only fairy tales."
Your brows furrow slightly as you listen to them talk amongst themselves, "I can assure you, I am very real."
"They have to be fake, a trick to make them pointed."
You lean and tilt your head down.
"You're more than welcome to feel them.”
The blue-haired girl reaches forward and pulls on them lightly, they don't come off and she can't see any drawings that would magically make them pointed.
"They're real," she breathes out, awe in her voice.
"I didn't get your names, my name is (Y/n)."
You stand back up to your full height, brushing your hair behind your ears.
"I'm Coco!"
The green-haired girl points to herself with a large smile on her face, followed by the pink-haired girl who enthusiastically jumps.
"I'm Tetia! That's Richeh! And Agott!"
She points to the blue-haired girl and dark-haired girl respectively. Richeh quietly lifts a hand in a wave, while Agott scowls.
"I can introduce myself," she grumbles.
You nod your head to them.
"Lovely to meet you girls, sorry for crash landing here. I was in a dungeon and got hit with a spell and started falling here. I just hope Frieren is able to figure out what spell it is."
Coco and Tetia tilt their heads in curiosity.
"A dungeon? What's a dungeon?"
"Who's Frieren?"
At those words your face falls. You aren't surprised the girls don't know who Frieren is, most people only really knew Himmel as the one to kill the Demon King, but to not know a dungeon?
"A dungeon is a place where you can typically find treasure and mimics, maybe demons. A lot of adventurers go in them for riches."
Now Agott's attention is brought to you, a frown on her face.
"Demons? Mimics? What in the world are those?"
Your brows furrow further.
"Demons? Well, I'm not surprised you're not familiar with them, but does the name Demon King happen to mean anything to you?"
Richeh shakes her head as she pulls her hair forward and brushes through it softly.
"I've never heard of a Demon King," Agott mumbles, hands falling to her side as she frowns back at you.
At her words you take a seat on the ground with a sigh. It certainly is a shock that they don't know about demons, you would figure the adults in their life would warn them about the dangers of the creatures.
You set your staff on the ground as you hold your hands up and cast an illusionary spell.
"These are demons, or they were before Frieren and I killed them."
The girls watch in shock and awe as many images flash before them of magic spells being cast wordlessly and figures flying with horns on their heads.
"How are you doing that?"
Coco mumbles, eyes wide and sparkling.
"What? The illusion spell? It's not very difficult I could teach you."
She claps her hands together and sits down in front of you.
"Yes! Please! But wait, you don’t have any ink or a quill or anything on you."
You tilt your head as the spell goes away and you set your hands on the ground next to you.
"You don't need a quill and ink to cast magic? Where did you hear that?"
The girls exclaim in shock and disagreement at your words, even Agott's usual stony expression has morphed into one of shock as her eyebrows fly up.
"Of course you need a quill and magic ink to cast! How else would you practice magic!"
You blink as you let the words sink in. You lean back on your hands as Tetia shakes Richeh back and forth, the former's face being blank as she allows the pink-haired girl to do so.
"By using mana?"
Tetia stops shaking Richeh as the girl fixes her hair.
"What's mana?"
Your eyes are wide now at her words as you repeat the question to yourself.
"Mana is internal, it's an energy found in everyone. Tell me, can you see this?"
You cease your mana suppression and let the full force of your mana take over the area. The force of it is enough to make the plants flutter softly, but the girls just blink at you.
"See what?"
Your mouth falls slightly as you suppress your mana once more, it coming closer to your body and resuming its constant low output.
"You can't see it."
You furrow your brows once more thinking on their words. They can't see mana. If they seemingly are mages, they should be able to at least sense your mana, especially when you stopped suppressing it. You stand dust yourself off, patting your dress and grabbing your staff as the girls follow.
"So, you use this to cast magic?"
Coco, as you learned her name was, questions you, gesturing to your staff. You give her a smile and shake your head.
"It's not necessary to have a staff to cast magic, it acts as a conduit for casting more precise magic, that is all. I can cast just as easily without it."
Her eyes light up as the three other girls listen to you in awe.
"I must ask, what are you children doing out here by yourselves?"
"We're not by ourselves!"
Tetia has her fists balled together as she looks up at you. She points behind her to the building in the distance.
"We live there! In the atelier with Quifrey and Olruggio!"
Agott, snaps at her, pulling her back with a glare on her face.
"Don't tell a stranger where we live! We don't know if she's with the brimhats!"
Tetia has a frown on her face and looks sheepish as Richeh presses the fabric of your dress against her face.
"So soft."
You pat the girls head and look at Tetia who tries to get her footing after being scolded by Agott.
"I mean no harm, I can promise you that. Though, I would appreciate being pointed to the nearest town. I need to research which spell could have sent me here."
Coco claps her hands together and looks at Tetia.
"Maybe Quifrey knows! Or Olruggio!"
Richeh nods as she keeps a hand on your dress. You're starting to be dragged forward by the three girls as Agott reluctantly follows as you're lead to the large building.
Coco and Tetia chatter excitedly at the prospect of introducing you to the two adults they'd mentioned and practically hum with anticipation as you're brought closer and closer.
“Oh, and what’s a brimhat?”
At those words, the girls stop abruptly. You’re just in front of the door and Richeh has her hand on the handle when Agott gives you a weary look.
“A brimhat practices forbidden magic, any witch would know that.”
You glance at her before looking at the girls, they noticeably wear hats that are pointed but sport no brims.
“Forbidden magic?”
The notion of forbidden magic is strange to you. Yes, there were certainly spells wielded that were awful and dangerous, but they were considered black magic, sometimes forbidden magic. Though you and Frieren were of the same belief that curses were magic that you simply didn’t understand. You’d nearly forgotten that in your long life. You try to think if you even know any forbidden spells yourself.
All magic is dangerous, you must be careful when you wield it. That was your belief, any spell could be altered so you must always be vigilant. It was one of the few things you’d taken the care to teach Fern.
“Yes, forbidden magic! If a brimhat is ever seen they must be repo-”
Tetiah is cut off as the door opens to a man with white hair, a pair of spectacles with the right lense noticeably blacked out. He looks at the girls before looking at you.
“Who might this be?”
His gaze, though tender with the girls, falls weary on you. Coco and Tetia have a hand on your dress and a hand on your arm that holds a large staff.
“I fell from the sky, the girls were kind enough to see if I was alright.”
You stare blankly at the man as he doesn’t say anything at first. He then raises his left arm as he speaks to the girls.
“Girls, get behind me.”
“Wait, Quifrey! She’s really nice!”
“Get behind me.”
Coco and Tetia give you a concerned look, but they all do as he says.
You merely stay in place as the girls move behind this “Quifrey” and watch you from behind his back, even Agott with her arms crossed looks at you to see what will happen.
You exhale sharply and stand up a little straighter.
“I mean no harm if that is the concern, to be honest I’d rather find my party to see what they found in the dungeon.”
Quifrey narrows his eyes at you and tries to get a sense of your abilities. You hold a staff, rocking back and forth on your heels with no worry despite the fact that he clearly doesn’t trust you.
“Who are you?”
You stop rocking as you look the man in the eye with a small smile.
“My name is (Y/n), one of the last elves and I just want to go home.”
He eyes you up and down, noticeably glancing at your ears. He’d heard of elves of course, but they were fiction. Tall tales of a greater species, they didn’t exist.
“Of course, girls why don’t you wait inside, while I speak with her.”
There are numerous cries against this from Tetia and Coco, even Richeh pouts a bit, but Quifrey just gives them a small smile and pushes them further inside.
“Now girls, is this how we act in front of a guest?”
They quiet down as they huff out a breath and shake their heads.
“Better, now we’ll just be a moment, practice your line work while I speak with our guest.”
He closes the door as he glances back at you, smile no longer on his face as you simply give him a neutral look back.
“Who or what are you?”
Your eyebrows lift lightly.
“I’m not a brimhat if that is your concern. Agott was kind enough to explain what that is.”
Quifrey doesn’t respond as he gives you a weary look. You simply sigh and place down your staff, lightly pushing it toward him as he glances down at it.
“I’m a mage, if you don’t believe me I can cast a spell, but since you don’t trust me, as you shouldn’t trust any stranger, you can hold onto my staff.”
He leans down and grabs the staff, it’s weathered but clearly well taken care of. The ribbons tied onto it with a gem on the end sparkle in the light as he twists the staff to inspect it. He holds it out to you as you extend a handout to grab it, only for him to lift it just out of reach.
“You said you fell from the sky?”
You nod as you briefly glance up, then back at the staff, hand still extended.
“That is what I said.”
He slowly lowers the staff into your hand, though his shoulders are still tense.
“Well, it would be best to see if you are alright, please come inside.”
You raise a single eyebrow. You’d expected him to put up more of a fight, you know you certainly would have if you were in his shoes. Nonetheless, you nod and keep your staff at your side, choosing not to put it away. If what the girls said was true and they needed to draw with ink to make a spell then it would be wise to not show your ability unless asked.
He turns from you to the door and puts his hand on the handle as he beckons you forward.
“By all means, please come in.”
You follow slowly as you enter the home and the door closes behind you.
It’s a nice home, there’s a pot on the stove that simmers. The girls are at a table in the center working on their lines as they look up and Tetia runs over to greet you, though she acts as if she hasn’t seen you in a millennia.
“(Y/n)!”
She throws her arms around you and grabs the sides of your dress as you smile down at the pink haired girl.
“You just saw me,” you muse as she beams up at you, Coco soon follows after as she inspects your staff, playing with the ribbons and gems tied on.
“Wow! So pretty!”
Her fingertips lightly graze a ruby that’s tied on with a red ribbon, a matching ribbon with Frieren. Tetia pulls you to the table so you can look at her lines.
“Look! My lines are almost perfect!”
Agott just side eyes Tetia, mumbling about how she should show her lines if they are perfect not nearly perfect. You glance at Agotts work and point at it.
“These are beautiful lines, you’ll be a powerful witch, I’m sure of it.”
Agott glances up at you but flits her eyes back down as she furiously works on her next set of lines, “whatever,” she grumbles though you can see that the tips of her ears are flushed.
Richeh holds up her own linework for you to compliment, face neutral but holding an expectant look in her eye.
“Very nice, Richeh! You draw with purpose, it’s wonderful.”
She takes your compliment with a proud look in her eye as your gaze falls onto Quifrey leaning against the counter, who watches how you interact with the girls, his face is neutral but there’s a fondness there pointed at the girls. You muse that they must be like daughters to him, the same way Fern is to you and Frieren.
Ah, Fern. She’s taller than both you and Frieren now, you remember when she came up to your ribs. How they grow so fast.
He steps away from the counter and goes beside you, hand lingering on your arm that holds your staff.
“Girls, how would one of you like to show our guest around our atelier?”
Three of the girls perk up with Coco and Tetia calling out for them to show you around, while Richeh holds both her hands clenched in fists and a sparkle in her eye.
“Alright, alright two of you can show her around,” Quifrey watches as Tetia, Coco, and Richeh choose amongst themselves who will show you around. They’re chattering to themselves until Coco and Richeh stand and go to grab your arms, Richeh pointing ahead and Coco gabbing about how you’ll love it.
They lead you away as Quifrey watches your forms leave and round the corner. He turns to Tetia, who pouts, and Agott, who’s calmed down and ears have gone back to normal.
“Now girls, what do you know of our elf guest?”
Agott blinks at Quifrey, setting down her charcoal pencil and Tetia places her hands on her face.
“Wah, she’s an elf! An actual elf! And she fixed her clothes without needing to draw a spell!”
Quifrey quietly listens as Tetia prattles about how you also fixed the landscape with a wave of your staff and that the tip of it glowed as the landscape reverted itself to how it was before you crashed.
Agott is quiet until Quifrey turns to her, “Agott? Is there anything else that you noticed about her?”
Agott purses her lips before she speaks.
“She said something about mana, how it’s in all living things and she presumably did something with her own. We didn’t see it, but I noticed that the grass and leaves swayed before she asked if we could see it.”
Quifrey furrows his brows as he brings a hand to his face and holds his chin.
“Mana? I’ve never heard of such a thing. You say she can cast spells without drawing them, Tetia?”
Tetia turns to him, blissful expression no longer on her face, though her hands stay on her face as she blinks at him in confusion.
“Yeah, she said she’d never heard of needing a quill and ink to cast magic. She looked very confused.”
Quifrey hums to himself in thought as he thinks about what the girls are telling him. If what they say is true, you pose a dangerous threat to them, no not to just them but to all of humanity. A witch who can cast magic without needing a quill and ink is even more dangerous than a brim hat.
He leans on the table before standing and reaching for his hat, he glanced at the girls before checking to see that his spell is still drawn clearly on the inside. He takes a deep inhale before placing his hat back down as he hears Coco and Richeh approaching with you in tow.
He plasters on an easygoing smile as the three of you enter the room.
“How was the tour girls?”
He side eyes you as you take a seat at the table next to Tetia, she eagerly shows you her line work and you trace the line with a finger. Quifrey’s eyes narrow in suspicion before being wiped from his face as he peaks Coco watching him from the corner of his eye.
“What’s wrong Quifrey?”
Coco tilts her head as she stands by him, he merely hums at her words and pats her head.
“Nothing,” he keeps his eyes on you as you rub your finger and thumb together, “nothing at all.”
You bring your brows together as your finger and thumb come together, ink smearing lightly and crumbling away. You can sense nothing from this ink, though one glance at the bubbling pot on the stove lends you a feeling of something coming from it. You wipe your fingers on your dress as you lift a hand at the pot.
"There's something off about that pot, is there something drawn on it?"
Agott lifts her brows at you, sending a glance to Quifrey who moves to lift the lid and show you the inscribed ink on the pot lid.
"Yes, this sigil keeps the food fresh as the day it was made," he shows you the lid so you can inspect it closer. You trace your fingers on the ink with a tilt of your head.
"Fascinating, I assume you have to redraw the sigil?"
Quifrey hums with a small smile, "correct. I redraw the seal often due to the steam."
You bring your hand to your hair to twirl your hair as you think. You glance at Coco, then Tetia who looks like she wants to braid your hair. Then you look at Agott who avoids your gaze, though you know she was looking at you. Lastly, you look at Richeh who has now gone back to practicing her linework, then Quifrey. At the man, you give him a small, inquisitive smile.
This is a bit specific for a yandere Witch Hat Atelier idea but...
I was imagining a female Reader becoming the target of the Brimmed Caps after one of them witnesses you, an outsider to magic, having a rather lovely and inspiring conversation with a child where you encourage them to pursue magic "no matter what" and perhaps you even give the child a special little 'magic charm' of your own that, even through guesswork may be impressively close to being a spell for... something, proudly declaring that you "like to make your own magic" and something about how "there are so many beautiful and unexplainable things in this world just waiting to be discovered, and magic is just one of them"
Perhaps you've even coincidentally had lovely conversations with certain other lovely blonde-haired children the dark magic users have had their eyes on, further showing both your love for learning of the craft and for further inspiring that same desire and hunger in others
So the Brimmed Caps, naturally, respond to this by. Selecting you and performing a ritual on you using Forbidden Magic where, all you can remember are hazy memories of chanting and candles and caresses, symbols drawn on your body, on your belly, symbols that remain as you awake alone in your home with the realization that you are now undeniably pregnant; the morning sickness you begin having out of nowhere only confirms it.
You're stuck between being terrified of what could happen to you, and yet... you can't help but feel your heart swell at the idea of raising a child of your own.
Meanwhile, here's Qifrey, barely containing himself from openly showing just how crazy it's driving him to watch your belly slowly grow with life as you remain under his watchful protection, keeping an eye out for the Brimmed Caps' suspected return. Qifrey who gently coos about how nice it would be if you had a daughter and "gave Coco a little sister to play with and teach magic to", not only being genuine but also absolutely fantasizing about getting to plant his own seed in your belly and create a child with you all of his own
At the same time, you're under the looming threat of the Knights Moralis and Easthies who are lowkey arguing they should wait to let you give birth, take your child, and then wipe your memory, since there's no way of knowing what the child even is given its origins, or so is their fear, as you and Qifrey naturally argue that that is SO horrendously unethical it borders on torture
Meanwhile Iguin and his fellows, who have formed a cult-like adoration and fascination with you of their own, simply used magic to ensure you became pregnant and nothing more, with the child otherwise being completely normal and healthy. In the same way that they won't allow their talismans to be tampered with and traced back to them, they will not allow any meddling in your pregnancy. If anyone so much as tries to draw some sort of Circle of Abortion or otherwise, that room will be filled with as many skilled magic users as needed, if the sigils on your body aren't outright capable of yanking you to safety where you will then be tended to by a cult that is particularly infatuated with you
It's hard to say which team of your "protectors" you should fear most, but one thing is for certain: any sort of control or influence over the future of you and your child has been taken from your hands. You're all but helpless against those far more knowledgeable in accomplishing miracles than you ever even conceived, and if they want to use those gifts to watch you, track you, entrap you? You're completely at their mercy, whether those that want to do so consider themselves your friends, your allies, your protectors, or even your lovers.
Even as you continue to learn magic, as amazing and impossible as it is, you'll still be powerless against them.
Y/N: “Flins, I know you've had a few hundred years to master the art of ragebaiting, but you've got to be one of the dumbest mother fuckers in Nod Krai if you wake up one morning and decide ragebaiting Rerir, of all people, is a good idea.”
Soulmates, but it's that annoying, little shit of a coworker that just gets you...
Soulmates, in the sense they'll find each other over and over again, but it's that friendship that you know no distance or amount of time will ever diminish...
Summary and content: Going her own way, the reader becomes a tailor, stepping away from the idea of becoming a mentor for young witches unlike her life-long friends. In a letter, she mentions a man that she has begun a relationship with, but she doesn’t say his name. Curious, Qifrey and Olruggio make a visit to her to figure out who he is. Romantic Easthies and reader. Platonic Qifrey/Olruggio and reader (sibling like relationship). Brief mentions of the Qiflings. She/her used on reader. One use of [Name] in the beginning. OOC? Kiss, kiss, fall in love. I don't know how to write kissing. Rushed ending </3
Requested - Anonymous on Tumblr
A/N: There were some things I didn’t know how to write, so I switched those things around. I hope you still like it! Also, I have never written for these characters, so thank you for giving me the chance to :) I wanted to keep this short, too, so it’s more of a drabble. AND “Qifrey” kept autocorrecting to “Wifey” then to "Winfrey," but that doesn't really matter right now. I think it’s a sign.
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To my dearest friends, Qifrey and Olruggio,
My days have fared well, and I am still earning quite enough in my business. There is a new person coming in at least every other week. I am glad to be of help to people. One wouldn’t think you would meet so many kinds of people in this kind of job. Travelers, fellow artisans, mothers, grandmothers, and curious children.
Speaking of children, how are your apprentices? It has been awhile since I’ve asked, and even longer since I have last seen them. I do hope they are well.
I am doing well in my personal life as well. I met a man just the other week. He has brought me small trinkets and flowers every time he has visited me. We have talked about pursuing a serious relationship only yesterday. He’s stoic, but is also very kind and thoughtful.
Sincerely and with love, [Name]
You looked at the parchment as you finished signing it, smiling to yourself. Just as you were about to set the quill down in the pen rest, the overhead bell to your shop rang.
You turn around in your stool, looking up to who just walked in. Seeing the familiar silhouette, your smile widens, placing your cheek to rest on your clasped hands.
“My oh my,” you greet Easthies.
He tilts his head down, almost to hide the small smile he has, at your greeting.
“Hello, to you as well,” he leans down, his hand cups your chin as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, and leaves a light kiss against your cheek.
Your cheeks warm at the display of affection. Even if it’s early, and even if no one else is in your shop, you find yourself almost flustered at the thought of people seeing you two together doing such things.
“Easthies,” you whisper, moving your hands to cover your cheeks, closing your eyes and grinning. “How very bold of you this early morning!”
Easthies says nothing, but reaches out to grab your wrist, moving it away from your face.
You stay silent as well, only peaking open one eye to look at him, the grin still on your face. With your other hand, you reach out to touch his cheek. From cheek to jaw, from jaw to neck, and from there to his nape. A slow trip from start to end. Your nails travel lightly against his skin, leaving goosebumps where they once touched, but he doesn’t shiver from the feeling.
Easthies stays how he was, as if your hand has turned him to a statue. You lean in closer to him the closer your fingers get to his hairline at the back of his neck. Both your eyes becoming half lidded as you feel your breaths joining the other’s.
Your lips are a mere graze against Easthies’ as you speak to him, “Easthies?” Your voice was gentle, and airy. Such a light whisper.
“Hm?” Easthies let out a quiet hum, trying to match your volume.
“You’re so pretty,” your eyes close as you let out.
Easthies only closes the very small space that’s left between you, kissing your lips just as lightly as he did your cheek, making you giggle against him.
As you two broke apart, you looked up at him, smiling, before turning around to your writing area you've set up on your desk.
“I was writing to my friends before you came in,” you said, grabbing the letter and folding it into itself three times, then grabbing the spoon with already melted wax, sealing it closed with a stamp.
-
A knock sounded at the door, a small echo throughout the atelier as everyone was sat down, ready to eat whatever lunch was that day. Letting out a huff and a grumble, Olruggio got to his knees to stand.
“I’ve got it,” he makes his way to the door, a slight drag of his feet against the flooring.
“Hello, good afternoon, sir!” A cheery messenger greeted Olruggio when he opened the door.
Olruggio only stared at the other man, letting out a gruff “afternoon,” himself.
Feeling a bit pesky at the curt greetings, the messenger handed him a letter sealed with a familiar dark purple wax. “Here you are, sir!”
Taking the letter, Olruggio thanked him, making sure he went on his way before closing the door to the atelier.
Olruggio opened the letter, making his way back to the dining area. Only reading the first line, he called out for Qifrey. He only glanced at the other man before heading to the kitchen. Qifrey followed very soon after excusing himself from the table and the girls.
As Qifrey walked into the kitchen, he only saw Olruggio staring very sternly at the piece of parchment like it personally offended him somehow.
“Oh my,” Qifrey could feel an awkward sweat forming on the back of his neck as he smiled without humor. “Is everything alright, Olly?”
Taking his attention off the letter, he looks to Qifrey, “She says she’s met someone.”
Qifrey’s eyes widened, almost in an excited manner, “why, that’s wonderful!” He cheers, bringing his hand together.
-
Just a few days later, as the others were filled with lessons and patrols, certain people decided to pay you a visit.
Down in Kalhn, Easthies was just on his way to your small tailor shop, just as he was the other day. An inconsistent yet familiar routine. He was donned in his Knights of Moralis attire as he walked along the cobblestone streets. It was just as busy as it usually was around this time of day, so he wasn’t surprised when someone, a child no less, bumped into him.
He looked down after hearing the meek voice apologize. Easthies was not surprised that a child bumped into him, no. He, however, was surprised to see that Coco, one of Qifrey’s apprentices, was the one that had bumped into him.
“Coco,” Qifrey called out.
Speak of the devil…
Turning his attention to Easthies as he reached out to pull Coco away from the man. “Easthies,” Qifrey greeted with a terribly forced smile. “I’m surprised to see you here in Kalhn.”
“You as well. I am only doing a simple errand run.” Easthies wanted to keep the encounter short with the other man.
“Is that so?” Qifrey continued, “We are as well. So then, Best we go our own ways now,” he wanted to keep the encounter short as well.
Easthies said nothing, only nodding at the man’s words. He takes off in his original direction, stepping past the other two, and at some time, he passed by Olruggio as well. How rare to see him here, Easthies thought to himself.
-
You’re sat in your stole as you are most days, torn garment in hand and sewing needle in the other. Easthies stands at your back, rubbing at whatever small knot you have in your shoulder. You let out small hums of satisfaction every now and then.
The overhead bell rings, but you don’t look up. Keeping your eyes on the garment in front of you, you greet whoever just walked in, “Welcome.”
Easthies does look up to whoever just entered the shop. Seeing who it was, he stops his movements on your shoulder, pulling his hand away. That absence prompts you to look up as well. To him in question, then to the door in wonder.
Just in front of the door stands a shocked Qifrey, and behind him, an equally shocked Olruggio.
Surprised by their presence, it takes you a bit to speak up again. “Qifrey—and Olruggio?” You stand up and walk towards them. “Where are the girls?” You wonder aloud, peeking around them, seeing the lack of apprentices.
They both continue to look past you towards Easthies, who stares right back at them. They stay silent for what you think is a whole seven minutes, feeling every second pass, before looking at you, then back to Easthies, then back to you again.
They both say nothing for only a little while longer before shouting out in unison, “HIM?!”
You nod, straining your smile, feeling a headache coming on already at the future throw of questions from the two you would call brothers.
You were on an arranged-blind(?) date with him, a cozy but elegant candlelit place where the waiter knew his name.
He had ordered for both of you after asking what you liked, feeling less like control and more like care. The conversation dipped and soared: neuroscience, philosophy, terrible reality TV, the correct way to fold a fitted sheet (he had opinions), whether free will exists or if everyone was just living in a pre-programmed algorithm.
The candlelight flickered between you two, casting warm shadows across his face as he leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes alight with that particular fire reserved for people who've just discovered someone else speaks their language.
Three hours. Three hours you'd been here, nursing a second glass of wine, watching the dinner crowd come and go, the two of you utterly absorbed in each other.
This is it, you'd thought, somewhere around the halfway point.
This is the one those chick-flicks write about.
By the time dessert arrived, you were already imagining the second date. The third. The way you'd tell your friends: so I think I met someone. The one.
He was smart. He was kind. He looked at you like you were interesting, not just attractive or entertainment. When the conversation lulled, it was comfortable, not desperate.
You were giddy. Genuinely, stupidly giddy.
But then it happened; when it was time to pay, he casually asked the waitress for separate bills.
Oh.
Oh okay.
The waiter nodded, unfazed, and disappeared. You kept your smile in place. You'd had practice. Years of practice, smile-practice, the kind women learn to do when something small and sharp slides between their ribs.
You'd been on enough dates to know what that meant. Splitting the bill wasn't just splitting the bill. It was a soft signal. A careful, almost kind way of saying: I don't think there will be a second date, so let's not owe each other anything.
You'd done it yourself, twice last year. It was cleaner than ghosting. It was a period at the end of a sentence.
Except this sentence wasn't supposed to end.
You paid your share. You smiled. You said, "I had a really good time tonight," and your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
"Did you?" He was standing close on the sidewalk, the streetlight catching the side of his face. God, he was handsome. "I had a really good time too."
He leaned in. You turned your cheek at the last second. His lips brushed your jaw instead- awkward, wrong, a kiss that landed in the wrong zip code.
Your ride pulled up. You got in.
"Text me when you're home?" he said, through the open window.
You nodded. You didn't say anything.
You didn't look back.
The ride home was silent. The driver had his radio off, which felt like an act of mercy. You stared out the window at the blurred lights of the city and replayed everything: the way he'd laughed at your jokes in that deep, manly voice of his, the way he'd held eye contact a beat too long, the way he'd said dangerous conversations are the only ones worth having like he actually meant it.
Had you imagined it? Had you projected all of it onto him, the way you'd done before, the way you always did, seeing warmth where there was only candlelight?
No. You hadn't imagined it.
Which meant he'd felt it too. And yet-
Your phone buzzed in your pocket.
Him: Hey, I had a really great time tonight. Let me know when you're home safe?
You stared at the screen until it dimmed.
Him: Made it back okay?
You opened his contact. Blocked him. Put the phone face-down on the seat beside you.
The rest of the ride passed in silence.
.
Your apartment was cold. You left your shoes by the door, your coat on the hook, your heart somewhere on the floor. You washed your face, put on old pajamas, and watched three episodes of a show you weren't paying attention to.
You cried for a few minutes- not the dramatic kind. Just the tired kind, the kind where tears leak out while you're staring at the ceiling and wondering why this keeps happening. It's not even that big of a deal, and you feel stupid for getting so emotional, but was the dream of a man who did without being asked and without any ulterior motives really that much of a delusion? Was there something wrong with you that didn't prompt such an instinct from men? That didn't make them want to spoil you-ughh you need stop scrolling TikTok.
Whatever.
By midnight, you'd convinced yourself it was fine. That's what dating was. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. You will survive.
You fell asleep halfway through the fourth episode.
.
(Few days later)
He'd sent six messages over the last 36 hours. Casual ones at first. Hope you got home okay. Then: I really enjoyed Tuesday. Are you free this weekend?
Then, as the silence stretched: Did I do something wrong?
Then, when the messages started showing as delivered but not read: Hello?
But few more days pass without any response form you and he checks: You had blocked him.
The realization landed like a stone in his stomach. But why?
The date had been incredible. The conversation had kept him awake, kept him hungry, kept him leaning across the table like a plant toward sunlight. He'd been planning the second date before the second course. He'd been planning the rest of the month.
But it was radio-silence on your end.
So he calls his best friend and talks to him about it, who is stunned into silence;
“Wait," the friend says, and he's clearly been pulled away from something. There's noise in the background. A party, maybe. "Wait, say that again. You went on a date with someone you actually liked?"
"Yes."
"And you talked for three hours?"
"Yes, for the love of-"
"And then you asked to split the bill?"
"Yes? I mean, I have always paid for myself so I know how infantilising it can be for someone to just up and pay for you-"
"Oh, you stupid fuck."
He blinks. "Excuse me?"
"Do you not know that offering to split the bill is a soft signal for 'there will be no second date'?" The friend sounds genuinely scandalized, like he's just watched someone set fire to a winning lottery ticket. "Girls like guys who take care of such things without making them feel like they are owed something in exchange, you absolute moron. And yet you went and asked to split the bill like a complete and utter-"
"That's not.. that's not a thing."
"It is absolutely a thing. It's the thing. It's the thing that every woman on earth has complained about since the invention of dating."
He feels the blood drain from his face. "No. No, that can't be right. She's... she's smart. She's not the kind of person who plays games about-"
"It's not a game, you absolute walnut. It's signal reading. You spent three hours making her think you were interested, and then at the very end you basically handed her a receipt that said 'this was a transaction and I want us to remain even.' Do you understand how confusing that is? How hurtful?"
He presses the heel of his hand against his forehead. The memory is rearranging itself in real time.
The way your smile had seemed to flicker when he said separate checks, please. The way your voice had gone thin when you said you'd had a good time. The way you'd turned your cheek when he leaned in, and he'd thought... he'd thought maybe you just weren't someone who kissed on first dates, and that was fine, that was even better, because it meant you took things seriously.
Not because you thought he was rejecting you!
Oh God...
"Oh," he says out loud.
"Yeah," the friend says. "Oh."
The call ends shortly after. He sat in his living room, phone loose in his hand, the conversation replaying on a vicious loop.
Could we actually do separate bills?
Your face. The way your face had fallen. Just for a second. Just a flicker. And then you'd smiled, and he'd thought- what had he thought? He'd thought you were fine. He'd thought she's so gracious, so comfortable, so modern.
He'd thought he was being respectful.
He'd thought he was being good.
.
He kept coming back to it;
The way the candlelight caught the side of your face when you laughed. The way you'd tucked your hair behind your ear when you were about to make a point you knew was controversial. The small hmm sound you made when you were considering an idea, turning it over in your mind like a stone you'd found on a beach.
He'd memorized the shape of your hands around the wine glass. The curve of your lips when you smiled. The glimmer in your eyes just as you were about to counter him.
He'd thought: I want this for the rest of my life.
And he had gone and fucked it up.
He's googled it too- googled it five times, as if the search results might change, as if the internet might collectively decide that no, actually, offering to split the bill is a completely neutral gesture with no subtext whatsoever.
The internet has not decided that.
The internet has, in fact, confirmed his worst fears with an almost gleeful thoroughness. Reddit threads. Relationship columns. A TikTok compilation his algorithm served him that made him want to throw his phone across the room:
If he asks to split the bill, he's not that into you.
Men pay when they want a second date. It's not about money- It's about investment.
He split the bill? Next👎
Splitting the bill is low-value man behaviour 😒
Great...now he was internet's biggest loser.
He thinks about your face. That flicker. That brief, devastating second where your smile had gone somewhere else, somewhere behind your eyes, and he'd been too stupid to notice.
He'd thought you were tired. The notion that she thinks I'm rejecting her hadn't even occurred to him.
Because why would he reject you? He'd been having the best night of his entire year. Of his entire life, maybe. He'd been leaning toward you like a plant toward light. He'd been cataloguing your opinions for future reference, storing them away like a squirrel hoarding for winter.
He had messed up, and now you had blocked him. And he had no clue how to fix this.
.
He couldn't find you on any social media, so here he was stalking through the profile of the very mutual friend who had introduced you two to find your profile on LinkedIn.
"You two would really get along," the mutual friend had said. "She's scary smart. You'll like her."
He'd liked you. He hadn't just liked you. He'd felt, for the first time in years, like someone had reached into his chest and recognized the shape of his heart.
Now your LinkedIn stared back at him. Professional headshot. A smile that reached your eyes but not all the way- the kind of smile you wore for cameras, not people.
It felt pathological. It felt like something he'd judge someone else for doing. But he didn't know your last name- he'd only known your first name, your number, the shape of your laugh- and he was desperate.
He messaged you on LinkedIn:
I know this is unhinged behaviour. I know you blocked my number, and you had every right to. But I can't stop thinking about Tuesday night, and I can't stop thinking that I did something wrong- something I didn't even realize I was doing- and I need you to know that I wasn't rejecting you. I would never. I was having the best night of my life.
If you're willing to hear me out, I'll explain. If not, I'll disappear. I promise. But I couldn't not try.
He stared at the message for a long time. His thumb hovered over the send button.
This is insane, he thought. This is the behavior of a man who's lost his mind.
He sent it anyway.
.
You saw the notification three hours later.
You were curled up on your couch in sweatpants, a mug of tea growing cold on the coffee table, watching a documentary about octopuses that you weren't really watching. Your phone buzzed. You glanced at it.
LinkedIn: You have a new message from...
You blinked.
Then you opened it.
Then you read it. Once. Twice. Three times, because the first two times your brain refused to process the words I wasn't rejecting you in any sequence that made sense.
I was having the best night of my life.
You set the phone down very carefully, as if it might explode.
"He's lying," you said out loud. Your apartment, which had been silent for days, swallowed the words without comment. "He's just... he's embarrassed I blocked him. He's trying to save face."
But you didn't block him on LinkedIn. And you didn't delete the message.
You read it again.
If you're willing to hear me out, I'll explain. If not, I'll disappear. I promise.
You thought about Tuesday night. The way he'd talked so animatedly. The way he'd asked about your opinions and actually listened, not just waited for his turn to speak. The way his knee had brushed yours under the table, accidental-on-purpose, and neither of you had moved.
The way your heart had dropped when he asked for separate checks.
I wasn't rejecting you.
Could that be true?
You don't respond. Not yet.
.
He checked LinkedIn seventeen times the next day.
He checked it at work, it in the hallway, walking to the breakroom. He checked it in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, phone screen too bright in the fluorescent light.
Nothing.
She's not going to respond, he thought. She thinks you're a psycho who stalks women on professional networking sites.
He deserved that. He'd accept that. But at least he'd tried.
At 11:47 PM, just as he was giving up- just as he was putting his phone on the nightstand and resigning himself to the long, lonely work of moving on- it buzzed.
He grabbed it so fast he almost dropped it.
LinkedIn: 1 new message
His heart stopped.
He opened it.
You: You know, your pleading really makes it look like I am a neurotic bitch throwing a tantrum over $50.
.
You watched the three little dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.
He was typing. Erasing. Typing again.
The message that finally came through was not what you expected.
Him: That's not- no. You're not. That's not what I think at all.
Him: I think you're someone who's learned to read the room well. You are someone who is so smart, so observant and I-
Him: And I think I'm the one who made this room wrong. Not you.
You stared at the screen.
Your thumb hovered over the keyboard. You wanted to be cold. You wanted to be distant and cutting and safe. You wanted to type something like "it's fine, don't worry about it" and mean it, the way you'd meant it with every other near-miss, every almost-relationship that had flickered out before it caught.
You shouldn't have to explain to a man why he should be the one to take initiative, to offer. To provide, to care without any ulterior motives.
But something about the way he's pleading... fuck your stupid, soft heart.
You: So what's your explanation then?
You: Because I've been on enough dates to know what splitting the bill means. I've done it myself. Multiple times.
You: So if you're about to tell me I imagined the whole thing-
Him: That is not what I meant.
Him: God, that is not what I meant at all.
Him: I was planning the second date before the appetizers arrived.
You: Then why?
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Stayed.
Him: Because I'm an idiot.
Him: No, that's not- let me try again.
Him: I have spent my entire adult life trying not to be the guy who makes women feel like they owe him something.
Him: I've watched women around me talk about dates where the guy paid and then stood outside their apartment at 2 AM expecting to be invited up. I've watched them calculate whether it was safer to offer to split just so no one could say they owed anything.
Him: And somewhere along the way, I decided that the respectful thing- the correct thing- was to always offer to split. To make it clear I wasn't buying anything. That I wasn't expecting anything.
Him: I thought I was being good.
Him: I didn't know it meant something else.
You read it twice.
Then a third time, because your brain was still trying to find the lie in it, the manipulation, the thing he was saying to get what he wanted.
You'd gotten good at spotting those. Too good, maybe.
You: You really didn't know?
It wasn't really a question. You could tell from the way he'd written it. The frantic, over-explaining, self-flagellating sincerity of it. Men who were lying didn't offer you that many weapons to use against them.
Him: I really didn't know.
Him: I googled it after my friend called me a stupid fuck. And then I googled it four more times because I was hoping the internet was wrong.
Him: The internet was not wrong.
You laughed. Actually laughed, out loud, in your empty apartment, at the image of him scrolling through Reddit threads about dating etiquette like a student cramming for an exam he'd already failed.
There was a pause. A long one.
Him: Can I call you?
Your heart did something stupid. A little flip, a little flutter, the kind you'd spent the last three days trying to strangle.
You: I don't know.
Him: I'll grovel. I'll write you a formal apology on company letterhead. I'll show up at your door with a bouquet and all the things that would make you smile at me.
You snorted. Actually snorted.
You: That's kinda pathetic.
Him: I know. I'm nervous.
You looked at the message. At the confession of it. I'm nervous. Not smooth. Not rehearsed. Just... honest.
You: Fine.
You: One call.
Your phone rang four seconds later.
"Hello?" Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.
"Hi." His voice was the same. Deep. Warm. Slightly wrecked, like he hadn't been sleeping. "Thank you. For picking up."
"You have three minutes."
"That's fair." A breath. "I don't even know where to start."
"Start with why I should believe you."
"Okay." Another breath. Longer this time. "Okay. Because I've been miserable for days. Because I went home that night and I couldn't stop thinking about the way you say actually, like you're about to drop a bomb you've been saving all night."
You were very quiet.
"I haven't been able to eat a full meal," he continued, and his voice cracked slightly on the last word. "I keep thinking about the way your face fell. I keep thinking about how I didn't notice. I keep thinking about you in your apartment, blocking my number, thinking I'd rejected you. Thinking I'd looked at you and decided you weren't worth a second date."
His voice dropped.
"And I keep thinking- if I'd just said something. If I'd just. Asked. If I'd leaned over after the waitress left and said hey, by the way, I'm doing this because I don't want you to think I'm expecting anything, not because I don't want to see you again- "
"But you didn't."
"No." He sounded gutted. "I didn't. And I can't go back and fix it. But I can tell you now. Right now. That I want a second date. I want a third date. I want to know so much more of you. I want to know how you take your coffee and whether you prefer to sleep on the left side of the bed or right and whether you'd let me kiss you properly this time, on your lips, like I wanted to."
You held the phone very still against your ear.
"You're crying," he said softly.
You wiped your face with the back of your hand. You hadn't noticed. "No I'm not."
"You are. I can hear it."
"I'm not crying. There's just... something in my eye."
"A feeling?"
"Shut up."
He laughed. It was a small sound, fragile, like he couldn't quite believe you were still on the phone.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For making you feel rejected. For making you feel like you misread everything. For not knowing something I should have known. For-"
"Okay," you said.
He stopped. "Okay?"
"Okay, I believe you." You were crying for real now, but quietly, the kind you could hide if you tried. You didn't try. "You're an idiot."
"I know."
"A genuine, catastrophic idiot."
"I know."
"I'm not asking you to pay for everything forever." You laughed, wet and messy. "I'm asking you to communicate. To use your words like a grown adult. To not make me decode your good intentions from the wreckage of my own overthinking."
"That's fair." He was quiet for a moment. "Does that mean I can take you on a second date?"
You looked around your apartment. At the cold tea. The abandoned octopus documentary. The three days of solitude you'd built like a fortress around your heart.
"Yes," you said. "But you're picking me up this time. And you're bringing flowers."
"What kind?"
"Surprise me."
"Okay."
"Saturday?"
"Saturday," he confirmed. "I'll text you the details. You won't block me this time?"
"No promises."
"Fair enough."
You hung up eventually. You fell asleep with your phone on the pillow beside you, his contact pulled up, unblocked.
For the first time in your life, you have broken your own rules, praying that it doesn't blow in your face.
…
Y’all a spiritualist predicted my FUTURE SPOUSE is gonna pull this shit so I’m sitting here mad ass hell rn🙁🙁 I just wrote this mess, not at all proofread, so don't take this too seriously.
...
-- Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru (these two so would after listening to Shoko's rants on how guys use paying the bill to solicit sex, and then she'd pull their ears too after hearing what they did) (JJK); Doppo Kunikida (BSD); Shintaro Midorima (KNB); Clerivan Pellet (I shall master this family); Felix Robane (Who made me a princess); Ursuline Ricaido (Under the Oak Tree); Javier Asrahan (The greatest estate developer)
it is a lovely morning in okhema, and you are a horrible goose
setting: fantasy au, cursed prince phainon x vassal reader
prince!phainon who was cursed by an evil witch to be a snowy white goose in the day and returns to his true human form when the sun sets, and only a true love’s kiss will break his curse
cursed prince!phainon who really couldn't care less, because as a goose he has all the freedom he normally would only have dreamed of. He can skip boring meetings to spend time with his darling vassal, avoid entertaining his endless suitors vying for his hand to eat berries with his dearest vassal, ignore his ‘princely’ duties in favour of snuggling close to his beloved vassal.
cursed prince!phainon whose curse is really just an open secret in okhema, who has just about everyone in the capitol lining up to try to kiss him because what if they’re his destined true love who will break his curse? but phainon just honks at every last one of them, biting hands (and drawing blood) when a wandering hand gets a little too close for comfort. seeking refuge in his one and only vassal, who has always been there for him. he doesn’t need these irrelevant people - all he needs is you
cursed prince!phainon who traps you in his room by convincing you to cuddle him after dinner, and conveniently falling asleep on you so you don’t dare to move. he looks so comfortable sleeping on you! you wouldn’t wake him up just for the silly reason of wanting to return to your own room, right?
cursed prince!phainon who turns back into a human when the sun sets and the moon rises in the night sky. phainon who curls around you, admiring how he fits perfectly in your arms as a goose, and how you slot right in his human arms like a puzzle piece. phainon who kisses every single inch of you, all except for your lips. phainon who whispers words of adoring in your unsuspecting ears, who presses his head to your chest to feel your heart beat and your ribcage expand.
cursed prince!phainon who is back to being a snow-white goose when dawn breaks and you blink the sleep from your eyes, who urges you to his private bathroom so you can take a bath with his personal soaps and his scented oils. phainon who honks persistently and at increasing volumes until you submit to the whims of the goose prince and carry him in your arms around the palace, resting his feathery head against your sternum.
cursed prince?phainon who disguised himself and hired a witch to curse the crown prince of okhema with a curse that only a true love’s kiss can break.
Spoiler Alert! If you’ve only watched the anime and haven’t read the novel, be warned this is an important spoiler!”
Klein Moretti x Reader
The evening fog over Tingen curled like a memory that refused to fade. The rain had stopped, leaving behind the smell of wet earth and rust. The faint glow of gas lamps trembled along the street, their light bending through mist like the dying breath of stars.
Klein Moretti stood under the old awning of the bookstore where it had all begun when you first met. His coat was dark with rain, his hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes those calm, observing eyes held the weight of two worlds.
He heard the quiet footsteps before he saw them. He didn’t need to turn. Somehow, he already knew it was you.
The moment stretched, filled only by the distant toll of the clock tower and the whisper of rain dripping from the eaves. When you stopped beside him, the air shifted two wanderers standing at the edge of the life they had built from borrowed time.
“You came,” he said, his voice a low murmur.
“I promised I would,” you replied.
Klein let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “You always keep your promises. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
For a while, neither spoke. The silence was not empty; it was heavy with everything that didn’t need to be said. It carried the echoes of streets once patrolled together, the scent of burnt gunpowder, the faint hum of ritual chants.
He finally turned toward you, the lamplight tracing the edge of his face. “Do you remember what I said, before everything started to change? Before Amon, before the Fool, before the truth came crashing down?”
You nodded slowly. “You said you wouldn’t lose too much… just yourself.”
Klein’s lips curved faintly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “There are always some things that are more important than others.” He paused, gaze dropping to his gloved hands. “I just didn’t realize how heavy that choice would feel when the time finally came.”
His voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “Sometimes I think about it—the day we found out this world was Earth. How foolish we were, clinging to the idea of going home. I thought all my struggles would end if I could just return… but when I learned the truth, when the illusion shattered, I realized there was nothing left to return to.”
He looked at you then, and the fog around his eyes seemed to tremble with quiet pain. “Perhaps I’ve never left my hometown,” he said, “but I’ll never be able to return home.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy as rain about to fall again.
You remembered that day vividly the moment he discovered the truth. The way his shoulders stiffened, how the light seemed to drain from his expression, how despair at the same time being half crazy..had clawed at him like a physical thing. You had been there, standing beside him in the cold silence that followed, when the dream of “going home” had turned to ash.
"All the effort
All the sacrifice he made
All the pain he endured
Just to see the harsh truth that his goal on going home
Had turned to ash.."
But he hadn’t broken. Not entirely.
Because you were there.
You had both been strangers in this world two souls torn from their origins, trying to survive in a place where gods watched from behind curtains of madness. You’d learned to read its rituals, to navigate its logic, to laugh when the weight of it threatened to crush you. Together, you’d turned exile into existence.
And somehow, in all the chaos, he had begun to change.
The man who once sought escape had learned to stand still.
The man who once feared loss had learned to accept it.
And the man who once wanted to go home had found one in the fleeting moments beside you.
Klein’s voice broke the silence again. “You once told me that maybe we weren’t sent here by accident. That maybe this world needed us as much as we needed it. I didn’t believe you back then.”
He smiled faintly, turning his gaze toward the wet cobblestones. “Now I do.”
You looked at him the man who had carried humanity’s fragility and godhood’s curse in equal measure and saw both worlds reflected in his eyes.
“So this is goodbye?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.
Klein’s expression softened. “It has to be. The Celestial Worthy won’t wait. And if I lose focus…”
He trailed off, but you could finish the thought yourself. You had seen what happened to Beyonders who lost themselves. To Klein, that fate was a mercy compared to what awaited him.
He took a slow step forward, closing the small distance between you. The faint scent of dust and ozone clung to him like old books and storms. “I won’t lose too much,” he said, echoing the words that had once been a promise and now sounded like a farewell. “Just myself. There are always some things that are more important than others.”
His gloved hand trembled as it reached up, almost hesitating before brushing against your cheek. The touch was fleeting—an unspoken confession disguised as a gesture of farewell.
“You were one of those things,” he said quietly.
Your chest tightened. Words failed you. The only answer you could give was to cover his hand with yours, pressing it against your skin as if to memorize its warmth.
The clock tower began to strike midnight.
Klein drew back, eyes dim yet steady. “I’ll be going where even thoughts can’t follow. I don’t know if I’ll come back… or if I’ll still be me when I do.”
You swallowed hard. “Then I’ll remember for you. Everything. Who you were. What we were.”
His gaze softened, and something in him eased like a man finally making peace with the impossible. “That’s all I could ask for.”
A thin mist began to gather around him, curling upward like a gray veil. The lamplight bent and shimmered. He looked at you one last time, his figure blurring at the edges, as though the world itself was trying to reclaim him.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For being the reason I didn’t despair. For making this world… worth staying in.”
The fog swallowed his form piece by piece the coat, the hat, the faint glimmer in his eyes until only his voice remained, carried on the trembling air.
“Perhaps I’ll never return home,” he murmured, “but I was never truly gone, was I?”
The last echo faded into the stillness.
You stood beneath the dripping eaves, the silence around you vast and echoing. The streets of Tingen looked the same as they always had, but everything felt different now emptier, yet strangely peaceful.
In your hand, you found something warm the old coin he had once pressed into your palm. The coin was cracked, you look above and saw the clock hands frozen at the hour he first died. But beneath the silence, you could swear you heard it ticking again, faint and stubborn, like a heartbeat refusing to stop.
And somewhere far beyond the mist and madness, in the place where divinity and dreams intertwined, a familiar whisper stirred:
Genshin x isekaied reader, except reader doesn't know about the video game.
She couldn't have known, because reader was born during the dark ages. You know, the era when they would burn any woman who dares speak up because appearently, having a brain makes her a witch.
And that's how reader dies actually. Tied to a stick and burned to death infront of the church.
And you know what's the worst place to be reincarnated into after such a traumatic death? Mondstadt. Especially since they have that bigass cathedral looming over the city.
So, naturally that's exactly where you get reborn. Because whoever is in charge of things up there is a fucking troll and you have to suffer for it.
Now here you are, sitting in a fancy study room as your dad teaches you how to write and read, because woman can do that here apparently.
But maybe noble woman were allowed to know such things even back then. You didn't know, you were a peasant.
Anyways, you grow up in a wealthy household. Your father is much more nicer than the one you had back then and you wear the prettiest sparkliest dresses and have two adorable little brothers. One of them being a stray that your dad picked up on a whim on a rainy day.
The first time he takes you to see Mondstadt city, you pass by the cathedral and all the traumatic memories of your death resurfaces, making you have a panic attack smack dab in the big city square.
Holy shit they're going to kill you again!
But your father figures out what's making you react that way and instantly drags you away from that evil, evil building.
"Maybe we shouldn't go back there..."
Your little brothers are confused as much as your father is, and there's a pretty little ornament in your hand that wasn't there before.
They call it a "vision" and the moment your family (huh, when did you start calling them that) spot it, you are being congratulated for getting one, because apparently being a witch is not only accepted here, but is also encouraged.
You learn about your supposed "god of freedom" and you happen to spot a few knights who were woman.
So, naturaly you do what any sane person would do in your situation.
Demand to be trained in welding a weapon, and then start shouting at Barbatos every morning from the roof of your house to "Come fight me, coward!" as a coping mechanism to your religious trauma.
Your dad cackles when you first do that, and it basically becomes his wake up alarm as you stand up on the Dawn Winery's rooftop and shout for a dual on the ass crack of dawn.
The majority of the folks in Mondstadt doesn't seem to mind your actions either. Barbatos is the god of freedom after all, and you are not forced to like him.
It kind of becomes your thing after a while, and people start recognizing you as "the crazy lady who keeps screaming at Barbatos from the rooftops" which you think is unfair because you only shout at Barbatos from one rooftop.
"Any progress on getting that dual with Barbatos scheduled, yet?" That Varka guy asks you one day, you know that he's a big shot of some sort, but you don't know if it's the good type or bad type of bigshot.
"Not yet." You reply, swinging your sword at the poor tree that happened to be your victim for the day. "And just for your information; calling it a dual is an insult to my honor. It's going to be a completelty one-sided beat down. Trust."
"It won't be. Not if you continue swinging your sword like that."
"The fuck did you say?" Despite being a noble, you still developed a bit of a crude language. A result of having too much freedom after coming from a life where you didn't have any.
"You have a fire in your eyes. I like that. If you join the Knights of Favonius, I'll make sure you're capable of toppling mountains and cutting seas."
"I like your funny words magic man, but I'm not joining your cult."
"Your choice. Feel free to accept my offer, if you ever changed your mind. You know where to find me." Are his words before fucking off from your line of sight.
You do not know, in fact, where to find him.
The attack where Crepus is supposed to die happens, but luckily, this time around he has a crazy strong daughter who is mad enough to dedicate her entire life to training tirelessly everyday in preparation to her legendary battle.
(Yes, you are a marry sue. Because isekai bullshit + I want to give the Ragnvindrs a happy ending. Bite me.)
Everyone is alive and —physically— well, but you almost die protecting your family during the incident and It makes you reconsider that Varka guy's offer.
While you sign up for the Knights of Favonius, one of your brothers —Diluc— leaves. You can understand his reasons. You are only joining to gain more power anyways. To protect your family.
What you don't understand is why is his first reaction upon learning of your adopted sibling's darkest secrets is to lash out at him and for a fight to break out.
The fight doesn't get as violent as in canon. There's you and Crepus to stop it, but Kaeya still gets a Cryo vision out of it.
When you get accepted into the Knights of Favonius, your first order of business is investigating the guy who was insisting on covering up the incident.
You end up finding out that he's a traitor and he gets kicked out, but not before you put a sword to his neck and demand answers.
Which leads you to locking yourself with your dad in his study and having him explain why the fuck does he have a delusion in the first place.
You spend a few years in the Knights of Favonius. Making sure to force your brothers into a family bonding night every now and then to try fixing their strained relationship —because you love this family and you aren't going to lose it just like that, goddammit!— Before taking the trip to Snezhnaya.
Diluc tries following you, but your father convinces him to stay as he has duties as the Ragnvindr's heir (he figured out you didn't want the position since you're too busy trying to kill a god, which probably be more concerning to him, but eh.)
Anyways, you got to Snezhnaya, right infront of the Tsaritsa's metaphorical doorsteps and start causing chaos.
They eventually send a harbinger your way, and you managae to convince them to stay the fuck out of your family's business. I don't know how you do it. Maybe you make a deal, maybe you become a harbinger and carry duties for the Tsaritsa as long as they don't send you to Mondstadt and help you keep your identity a secret.
Point is, you're famy is safe now and you can come back home and have a nice nap in your comfy bed.
You return around the time the traveler comes to Mondstadt and Venti's secret is out for a few people (including Diluc).
Your brothers's relationship isn't as strained (good job dad) and now that you are not training obsessively, you have the time to observe the people before coming back to your routine of training, dragging your bros (and dad) to family bonding time and shouting at Barbatos from the rooftops (Yes, plural because now you have upgraded from just the Dawn Winery, to having the Tavern and the Favonius Headquarters to do that as well.)
Life is good, and everything is pretty much the same for awhile.
That bard in green is cute tho, maybe you should try to flirt.
Genshin x isekaied reader, except reader doesn't know about the video game.
She couldn't have known, because reader was born during the dark ages. You know, the era when they would burn any woman who dares speak up because appearently, having a brain makes her a witch.
And that's how reader dies actually. Tied to a stick and burned to death infront of the church.
And you know what's the worst place to be reincarnated into after such a traumatic death? Mondstadt. Especially since they have that bigass cathedral looming over the city.
So, naturally that's exactly where you get reborn. Because whoever is in charge of things up there is a fucking troll and you have to suffer for it.
Now here you are, sitting in a fancy study room as your dad teaches you how to write and read, because woman can do that here apparently.
But maybe noble woman were allowed to know such things even back then. You didn't know, you were a peasant.
Anyways, you grow up in a wealthy household. Your father is much more nicer than the one you had back then and you wear the prettiest sparkliest dresses and have two adorable little brothers. One of them being a stray that your dad picked up on a whim on a rainy day.
The first time he takes you to see Mondstadt city, you pass by the cathedral and all the traumatic memories of your death resurfaces, making you have a panic attack smack dab in the big city square.
Holy shit they're going to kill you again!
But your father figures out what's making you react that way and instantly drags you away from that evil, evil building.
"Maybe we shouldn't go back there..."
Your little brothers are confused as much as your father is, and there's a pretty little ornament in your hand that wasn't there before.
They call it a "vision" and the moment your family (huh, when did you start calling them that) spot it, you are being congratulated for getting one, because apparently being a witch is not only accepted here, but is also encouraged.
You learn about your supposed "god of freedom" and you happen to spot a few knights who were woman.
So, naturaly you do what any sane person would do in your situation.
Demand to be trained in welding a weapon, and then start shouting at Barbatos every morning from the roof of your house to "Come fight me, coward!" as a coping mechanism to your religious trauma.
Your dad cackles when you first do that, and it basically becomes his wake up alarm as you stand up on the Dawn Winery's rooftop and shout for a dual on the ass crack of dawn.
The majority of the folks in Mondstadt doesn't seem to mind your actions either. Barbatos is the god of freedom after all, and you are not forced to like him.
It kind of becomes your thing after a while, and people start recognizing you as "the crazy lady who keeps screaming at Barbatos from the rooftops" which you think is unfair because you only shout at Barbatos from one rooftop.
"Any progress on getting that dual with Barbatos scheduled, yet?" That Varka guy asks you one day, you know that he's a big shot of some sort, but you don't know if it's the good type or bad type of bigshot.
"Not yet." You reply, swinging your sword at the poor tree that happened to be your victim for the day. "And just for your information; calling it a dual is an insult to my honor. It's going to be a completelty one-sided beat down. Trust."
"It won't be. Not if you continue swinging your sword like that."
"The fuck did you say?" Despite being a noble, you still developed a bit of a crude language. A result of having too much freedom after coming from a life where you didn't have any.
"You have a fire in your eyes. I like that. If you join the Knights of Favonius, I'll make sure you're capable of toppling mountains and cutting seas."
"I like your funny words magic man, but I'm not joining your cult."
"Your choice. Feel free to accept my offer, if you ever changed your mind. You know where to find me." Are his words before fucking off from your line of sight.
You do not know, in fact, where to find him.
The attack where Crepus is supposed to die happens, but luckily, this time around he has a crazy strong daughter who is mad enough to dedicate her entire life to training tirelessly everyday in preparation to her legendary battle.
(Yes, you are a marry sue. Because isekai bullshit + I want to give the Ragnvindrs a happy ending. Bite me.)
Everyone is alive and —physically— well, but you almost die protecting your family during the incident and It makes you reconsider that Varka guy's offer.
While you sign up for the Knights of Favonius, one of your brothers —Diluc— leaves. You can understand his reasons. You are only joining to gain more power anyways. To protect your family.
What you don't understand is why is his first reaction upon learning of your adopted sibling's darkest secrets is to lash out at him and for a fight to break out.
The fight doesn't get as violent as in canon. There's you and Crepus to stop it, but Kaeya still gets a Cryo vision out of it.
When you get accepted into the Knights of Favonius, your first order of business is investigating the guy who was insisting on covering up the incident.
You end up finding out that he's a traitor and he gets kicked out, but not before you put a sword to his neck and demand answers.
Which leads you to locking yourself with your dad in his study and having him explain why the fuck does he have a delusion in the first place.
You spend a few years in the Knights of Favonius. Making sure to force your brothers into a family bonding night every now and then to try fixing their strained relationship —because you love this family and you aren't going to lose it just like that, goddammit!— Before taking the trip to Snezhnaya.
Diluc tries following you, but your father convinces him to stay as he has duties as the Ragnvindr's heir (he figured out you didn't want the position since you're too busy trying to kill a god, which probably be more concerning to him, but eh.)
Anyways, you got to Snezhnaya, right infront of the Tsaritsa's metaphorical doorsteps and start causing chaos.
They eventually send a harbinger your way, and you managae to convince them to stay the fuck out of your family's business. I don't know how you do it. Maybe you make a deal, maybe you become a harbinger and carry duties for the Tsaritsa as long as they don't send you to Mondstadt and help you keep your identity a secret.
Point is, you're famy is safe now and you can come back home and have a nice nap in your comfy bed.
You return around the time the traveler comes to Mondstadt and Venti's secret is out for a few people (including Diluc).
Your brothers's relationship isn't as strained (good job dad) and now that you are not training obsessively, you have the time to observe the people before coming back to your routine of training, dragging your bros (and dad) to family bonding time and shouting at Barbatos from the rooftops (Yes, plural because now you have upgraded from just the Dawn Winery, to having the Tavern and the Favonius Headquarters to do that as well.)
Life is good, and everything is pretty much the same for awhile.
That bard in green is cute tho, maybe you should try to flirt.
