I take requests through google forms usually because I get requests from ao3, Wattpad, and TikTok!
!! Request Spicy/NSFW through the ask box only !! (they will be exclusive to just tumblr)
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~ I'm not on a lot, and have 7 accounts on almost every social media so if I don't answer right away, that is why!! I try to check daily, but no promises.
☆ art account: @cosmoisartist ☆
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notes: THIS IS PART ONE! Due to popular demand, I wrote this story idea!!! The reason the reader is isekai'ed is because the reader was transported to a world where Verity is actually real and Mob and Twixxel actually died. I hope you enjoy :)
summary: you woke up one morning. That’s all you did. You just wanted to rewatch Mob’s videos on Verity only to find out they’re no where to be found. Your friend messages you to download a mod— the verity mod. You obliged, thinking it was just another mod attempting to mimic the video. You soon figure out it was not just trying to mimic the Verity mod. It was the actual Verity mod.
Your eyes flutter open to the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling. You groan as you try to rub away the sleepiness from your eyes. Blinking slowly, you gradually sit up and raise your arms as you stretch, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction as you turn to your phone sitting upon your bedside table. You turn it over and check the time.
'11:45 AM'
Huh, so much for getting up early tomorrow you supposed. At least it wasn't 1 pm, you've slept in until then far too many times already. You begin to start your morning routine of checking all your social media.
You go through all of your notifications and mindlessly scroll through your feed a bit. Soon, you come across a post with a yellow smiley face which causes you to remember a series you watched not too long ago. "Something is knocking at your door..." or as most people knew it, "the verity series." You were a big fan of it, and commonly interacted with various posts relating to it.
Yet, you don't see any posts regarding Verity on your 'for you' page currently. And that post that reminded you of the series just used a regular yellow smiley face so it wasn’t actually Verity. You decide not to think much of it, after all not every post that shows up on your feed is going to be related to just one thing.
You close the app and decide to open YouTube. You decided that you were going to rewatch Mob's series on it once more considering how much you enjoyed it, even with its tragic ending. You search up ThatMob's YouTube channel and click on his page.
Your fingers pause as you suddenly realize that the videos were suddenly gone. Your face contorts into one of confusion as you scroll through his account. His last post was two months ago... which was incredibly odd. Didn't he upload a video just a few days ago? There was no way he would have just... deleted them, right? After all that was probably his most viewed series. You don't think he would have deleted something that had gotten that much attention.
You then search up Twixxels account to see if maybe he had anything to do with the lack of videos only to find out all of his recent uploads were... gone. Your eyebrows knitted together as you look through his account as well. You then decide to search up "Verity mod" in the search bar to see if maybe anyone had re-uploaded the video only to find out there was... nothing. Only a variety of unrelated videos that had nothing to do with the familiar yellow smiley face.
"What?" you mutter to yourself, typing in numerous different words all relating to your favorite mod. However, you were only met with emptiness and many videos containing nothing of what you were looking for. Did it just disappear off of the face of the internet? But how? It was like the number one thing trending currently?
You sigh in frustration before you get a notification alerting you of a new message. You tap the notification as it sends you to your messaging app.
"Hey! Can you check out this mod I found? I wanna know if its actually helpful lol"
You look at the message sent by your friend before looking at the link they set underneath it. You tap on the link before it sends you to the downloading page of the mod. The mod is titled "Verity" and your eyes widen with slight excitement. You always wanted to try out the mod and see what it would be like to actually have Verity helping you in Minecraft. You decide to message your friend back.
"Oh, is this a Verity mod?? Have you seen the series too??"
"What??? What series?"
"You know, the verity series? The series this mod is based on, right???"
"Uhhhhh no I don't know what you're talking about, I don't think this mod wasn't based off of anything, its just like a helper thing"
You roll your eyes deciding to just brush it off as you get your computer to download the mod on there. You patiently wait until the mod says the download was complete and finally boot up Minecraft to begin playing. You click on the play icon and watch as your world finally loads. You move your character around until your eyes land on a box. It rustles and shakes as muffled sounds come from the cardboard box.
You applaud the accuracy to the original video and finally click on the box. The box begins float into the air above your character’s head. The box then opens to reveal the star of the mod, Verity! He bounces on the digital grass with what seem like sounds of discomfort each time he bounces off of the ground. Finally, he looks up at you with his signature smile.
"Hello! I'm Verity! Your personal helper friend! Ask me anything, I know everything!" He says, and you hum slightly. "Wow, this is actually really accurate.." You mutter to yourself. Seemingly, at your words Verity raises a brow that just appeared on his form.
"Accurate?" He inquires, and you feel your heart stop. "Wait, you can hear me?" You say as you suddenly sit up straight with shock coursing through your veins.
"Yep! Loud and clear!" He answers, as his smile returns. You then take a second to pause. His voice... was scarily accurate to that of the actual voice actors. And in fact, you didn't need to type in chat for this mod either it seems because he could hear you. You also don't remember turning on voice chat...
You go silent, taking everything in before the sound of Verity's voice shoots an arrow through your cloud of thoughts. "Hey, you there...?" He asks, a bit of confusion painting his tone as you focus back on your computer screen. You clear your throat and your mind before placing your fingers back on the keyboard. "Uhh, yeah! You just took me off guard is all. Hey, Verity! Nice to meet you." You greet politely, a smile tugging at your lips.
"Oh, I apologize then! It is a pleasure to meet you as well, [Name]!" Verity says in his voice scarily close to his lore accurate one. Dear god he knows your name. Of course he knows your name why wouldn't he? He does know everything after all! Your tense body then relaxes as you realized he probably just got that from your player tag name.
"Thanks! How about I take you with me?" You say, your character crouching down to be at more at eye level with Verity. "Yeah!" He exclaimed as you chuckle slightly. You then pick Verity up and start wondering off to a tree, beginning to break the wood.
As you do so, you wonder how come the voice seems so accurate to the actual voice of Verity. Did the voice actor voice some lines for this mod? No, they wouldn't have such direct answers to the questions you give. Did they use ai for the voice? Probably not, Verity's voice didn't have that robotic edge to each word. Also Verity's voice actor stated they're uncomfortable with that so the mod would have been taken down very quickly.
But then... how come it's so accurate? How come everything about this mod has been so accurate? How come he can actually hear? Nothing added up, and it was only making your head spin in a dizzying circle. You finishing chopping up the tree and then travel to another one, attempting to get enough wood to possibly build a house and a crafting table.
You then think for a moment. It's actually been awhile since you played Minecraft so it was nice to be back again. You hum as you finish cutting down another tree. You begin walking, trying to scout out a place to build your base. You eventually find a nice flat area to begin. You start mapping out the house a begging to build-- before you realize you just ran out of wood.
"Uhhh... Verity?" You say, bringing him out.
"Yessss?" He replies, his smile still wide.
"Do you... happen to know where any trees are?"
"There's three 40 blocks behind you!"
"Okay, thank you so much goat!" You say cheerfully as you turn around and spot the trees Verity taught you about. You can't help but feel a little stupid for not noticing the trees sooner... you supposed you could just pretend like you never asked that.
A day passed by and you finished building your house and as well built a furnace, crafting table, and a chest to go inside it. You went to the mines not too long ago and were planning to make a second trip there to acquire more materials.
You placed Verity atop your furnace as you crafted a new pickax and sword. "Do you live alone?" You almost jump at the sudden question from Verity. You soon get flash backs from ThatMob's video on Verity. You exit out of crafting and look to Verity. "Why do you wanna know?" You ask, turning your character to face him. "I'm just... curious." He responds, and you hesitate. This interaction then suddenly reminds you of just how true this mod is to the actual Verity video. Sometimes, you can't help but wonder if this is the real mod. You know its highly unlikely, after all, Verity is fictional... he doesn't actually exist... yet you can't help but wonder what will happen if you ask—
"Do you know who ThatMob is?" The words are suddenly blurted out of your mouth. You're shocked by your own words, not expecting to just suddenly ask such a question to him.
You see his smile immediately dissipate, like a string finally ripping after being dragged down by a heavy weight. Verity stares at you for a second. The silence is thick like fog, uncomfortable, almost disturbing.
"....You know him?" Verity's voice is monotonous, much like the voice he used with Mob when he told him the villagers were gone.
"I-I mean..." You stutter, backpedaling as you try to find an excuse to the question you just blurted out. "Yes! I mean- no! No.. I don't.. I've um, watched his videos before though! And I've... liked them... I wanted to uh- just... tell you about how much I like his horror mod videos!" You instantly try mark up an excuse as Verity continues to stare at you like he's attempting to burn a hole through your head.
Butterflies flutter in your stomach, almost as if they are making a desperate attempt to escape. You stare back into Verity's black beady eyes, practically begging he doesn't say anything further and that he'll somehow dismiss your sudden mentioning of.. Mob. However, in this moment, the realization hit you like a speeding truck. This was just an accurate attempt at mimicking the Verity mod... this was the Verity mod.
At this sudden revelation you feel like you need to get some water, take or break, or just something that will allow you to think!
"I see..!" Verity chirped unexpectedly as he forces a smile back onto his face. "Is that something you do in your free time then?" He asks, it appears he's holding himself together with only a few threads of string. You're somehow able to pick up on the sharp edge to each of his words, covered by a thin fabric of a cheerful facade.
You decide to play along, you didn't want him finding out you knew who came before you. "Uh, yeah! I do..." You squeezed a laugh out of your throat, somehow hoping it makes your words sound more convincing. "How about we just move on..." You say, going back to crafting.
"You didn't answer my question from earlier." Verity asks as you sigh. You were unsure if you should even answer that, given what he could do with the information. "I uh, I suppose I do live alone, yeah." You decide to say, moving the freshly crafted supplies into your inventory. You exit out of the crafting table once more.
"I'm going to go mining... would you like to join me?" You question, turning your character to the yellow smiling ball once more. "Sure!" He replies as you go ahead and pick him up. You take this moment of travel to think about what you plan to know now that you're aware you're probably dealing with the real Verity...
First off, is that why all of the videos on Verity were no where to be found because Mob never got the chance to post it before eventually dying? But if this was a world where Verity did exist how come he fell into your hands of all people? Wasn't it supposed to be Grox? Or possibly... something else? It was one huge mess, a complicated knot that you couldn't unravel.
But, the most important question of all stood in bold, clear letters:
What were you going to do?
If it's the second day playing this mod, this means the next day he's going to tell you that something is coming in three days once his hunger becomes too much to bear.
Maybe you can just… beg him to not eat you? Well, if he does eat you does that mean you also die in real life? You were aware that Mob survived by coming back when Verity turned into his monstrous form. Perhaps you can do the same thing? You better pray you’re able to do the same thing.
“Have you seen my baby… she’s not a dame nor a lady…” You mindlessly sing under your breath. You remember this song from it playing whenever Verity’s monster form is in close proximity to Mob, meaning it was about to attack him… You also remember Verity playing this for him when asked him to play him a song. If you recall... it's something he likes.
“Not in the way she walks, the way she talks.. or in the way she loves me—”
“What are you singing?” Verity cuts you off so sharply you flinch. You had forgotten he was still in your inventory. You take a moment to equip his form.
“O-Oh um.. just— a song I like.” You answer, the realization of the significance this song holds relating to Verity now sinking in. “I like that song too!” He beams, however you feel as though there’s something ominous lying behind his words.
“Ah! What a uh… what a coincidence!” You attempt to play it off as nothing but that, a coincidence.
Another day goes by in Minecraft. You pretty much spent your whole mining trip and way back thinking about what he’d say and possible solutions to deal with it. So, when your character gets up, you already expect to hear those words: “Something is coming in three days…” Verity says just liked you assumed.
“I know.” You say in a monotone manner and with barely any thought. “You.. know?” Verity repeats, confusion staining his tone. “Shit! I mean.. no! No I didn’t know! I uh..” You slipped up once again, you aren’t sure how many times you can keep doing this before he eventually catches on you know more than you should about him.
“What’s coming..?” You say even though you know all too well it’s him. “Something.” He repeats, and you simply sigh. “Alright.” You reply as you get some food from your chest.
“You don’t sound concerned.” The digital ball says, his grin now appearing far more sinister. A black hue settled between his eyes. “Should I be?” You ask, looking over to Verity sitting upon the crafting table next to your bed. “Yes.” He states with a rather straightforward tone.
“Okay..” You spoke, unsure of what else to say. It wasn’t like you weren’t concerned… of course you were, but you were aware nothing you did to prepare would stop him from tearing down your house to rip you apart.
A day passed and you could tell Verity was growing a puzzled with your odd behavior. While Verity did appreciate your lack of questioning when told not to go towards villages to the east when you asked him for the nearest village… You somehow ended up at the village simply because you sucked at directions. He recalls you repeating that almost fifteen times.
When passing through that empty village, you didn’t ask him what happened or even bother to stop in confusion. You just looted the chests and gardens, before moving on to something else. Your actions towards such matters were strikingly unusual. Not one player replied with such nonchalance towards the empty villages. All you did was apologize for going to the wrong village. “It’s… fine.” He replied, not sure how else to react. You seemed pleased with his answer, however.
“Why aren’t you preparing?” He questions, sounding genuinely confused. He sat on the top of one of the dirt blocks surrounding the garden you were currently building. You glance over at the smiling ball and shrug. “There really isn’t a point, nothing will really be able to stop ‘it’ anyway.” You let out a sigh, focusing back on your gardening.
“…How do you know that?” Verity’s voice dips into something far different than his usual optimistic tone.
That was probably the fourth crack in the glass concealing your true knowledge upon Verity and who came before you. You supposed you were never really good at keeping secrets.
“I just um.. assumed—”
“Is there something you’re not telling me, [Name]?”
It felt like the world around you suddenly stopped moving and instead collapsed in on itself. The bright sun’s rays suddenly seemed to dim just by his words alone. Slowly, you turned to look at Verity once more.
“What..?”
“Do you know something that I don’t?”
“I don’t… understand.”
The feeling of dread crept up your shoulders. Butterflies fluttered beneath your ribs and you felt your throat close in.
“You’ve been saying and doing strange things… familiar things… it’s like you’ve met me before. But I’m sure that we’ve never met— it’s.. odd.”
He gazed at you. It was like he was calculating your every move.
“You know something, don’t you?”
“Okay! Okay.. just.. wait.” You huff before rubbing your eyes. “What do you think I know?” You start, watching as Verity’s expression shifts from his typical smile to an expression far more unreadable.
“I’m not sure, that’s why I’m asking you. What do you know?” Verity replied making a slight groan leave you.
“I-I don’t think I should tell you…” You stumble over your words as Verity just stares at you through the veil of the computer screen.
His silence is practically eating you whole. The black of his eyes made something ache within you in an incredibly unpleasant way. It felt like your intestines were swirling into one big knot.
“Can we just… move on from this? Please? I um.. how about we go pick out some flowers or build you a little room, or something…? How does that sound?” You ask, yet you’re slightly apprehensive. You watch Verity, anticipating his next move.
“…Alright!” He suddenly replies which causes you to let out a relieved sigh.
“Okay then, come on let’s go.” You say, picking him up. “Can you tell me where the nearest flowers are?” You inquire as the coded grass crunches beneath your Minecraft character’s feet.
You carefully stepped over a pile of carved stone disks sitting near the doorway, knocking lightly against the already-open door.
"Hello?" You spoke aloud, trying to gather the attention of Olruggio, whom you've grown quite fond to.
From somewhere behind an impossibly tall shelf stacked with spellbooks came a familiar voice. "Back here."
You rounded the corner and spotted him.
Olruggio sat hunched over his work desk, one sleeve rolled to his elbow as he carefully engraved tiny runes into a silver ring. His glasses rested low on his nose, and the concentration on his face made him look completely absorbed in his work.
Without looking up, he smiled. "You always manage to show up right when I'm finishing something."
You laughed. "Is that a complaint?"
He finally glanced up. "...Not really." His eyes softened. "It's nice."
Your heart warmed a little. It was becoming harder and harder to pretend you didn't look forward to hearing little things like that. You leaned over the table, staring at the ring beneath his hands.
Unlike ordinary jewelry, this one shimmered faintly with enchanted ink woven through the engraved lines.
Your eyes sparkled. You knew what he was doing. "...You're making another spell ring."
"Mm." Olruggio hummed quietly. He rotated it between his fingers. "This one's for a courier. Helps stabilize wind currents"
You watched him inspect every tiny line. You'd seen him with his own ring countless times. Engraving easy rings for non-witches.
It always looked so effortless. Elegant. The ring was simply another extension of him.
You rested your chin in your hands. "...Can I ask you something?"
He nodded. "Go ahead."
You hesitated. "How do you make one?"
That finally got his full attention. He blinked. "...A spell ring?"
You nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!" You pointed toward the silver band. "Every time I see you use yours, it looks amazing."
His ears turned ever so slightly pink.
You continued before he could respond. "How do you carve them? How do they store spells? How long does it take? Can anyone make one? ...Do they have to be silver? Can it be gold? What about blue? Pink? Purple? Can I choose the color? And the spell? I wanna make one so bad!"
Olruggio stared.
You froze. "...Too many questions?"
He chuckled. "A few."
You rubbed the back of your neck. "Sorry..."
He shook his head. "Don't apologize." He gestured toward the empty stool beside him. "Sit."
You immediately obeyed. He picked up a blank silver ring.
"Spell rings aren't just jewelry." He placed it in your palm. It was surprisingly light. "The metal needs to be refined so it carries enchanted ink properly." He picked up a tiny engraving tool. "Then each groove is carved by hand." He carefully demonstrated, creating a line so impossibly thin you almost couldn't see it. "Too deep..." He carved another. "...and the spell leaks."
Another. "Too shallow..." Another. "...and it won't hold." He pauses. "The spell won't activate until the spell has ink in the grooves."
You watched in amazement. "That's incredibly precise."
"It has to be." He dipped the tool into enchanted ink this time. "Every line carries magic." He went over the same line he just started. He looked at you. "One mistake means starting over."
Your eyes widened. "...Seriously?"
He nodded. "I've thrown away dozens."
You laughed. Somehow hearing that made him feel... more human. Less like the impossibly talented witch everyone admired.
You turned the blank ring over in your fingers. "I kind of want to learn."
Olruggio tilted his head. "To make them?"
You nodded. "Well..." You smiled sheepishly. "...Mostly because I want to cast spells like you." You continued rambling before embarrassment could stop you. "Every time I see you cast magic with your ring it looks so graceful. I thought maybe if I learned— Well... I'd look half as cool."
Olruggio 's face actually flushed. He looked away.
You frowned. "Did I say something weird?"
He cleared his throat. "No." A pause. "...Thank you." He set the engraving tool down. You expected another long explanation. He said something that completely caught you off guard. "I... could make you one."
You stared. "HUH?"
He repeated it. "I can make you a ring, if you want."
Your brain stopped working. "...For...me?"
"Yes."
You blinked several times. "...Just...because?"
He looked confused. "...Isn't that why you asked?"
You immediately shook your head. "No! I wasn't asking you to make me one! I just wanted to know how they worked!" You waved your hands frantically. "They're probably expensive and they take forever! I couldn't ask you to—"
He interrupted gently. "You didn't ask." He smiled. Which was rare. Only Qifrey could get a smile out of him. "...I offered."
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.
Olruggio chuckled. "You're overthinking."
You looked down. He reached over, taking one of your hands. Your entire body froze. He held it carefully, studying your fingers. You could barely breathe. His hands were warm. He measured your ring finger against one of his tools. Completely focused. Entirely unaware of the effect he was having on you.
"You'll need something smaller than I guessed."
You squeaked, cheeks flushed pink. "...O-Oh."
He finally noticed your expression. Then realization hit when he saw he was still holding your hand. His own face turned bright red. He slowly released your hand. "Sorry." He said quickly.
"It's okay."
Neither of you looked at each other. The silence stretched. You both laughed. The awkwardness melted away almost instantly. Olruggio rubbed the back of his neck.
"That was smoother in my head."
You giggled. "I figured." He smiled sheepishly. After another quiet moment, you looked at him again. "...You'd really make one?"
He nodded. "Of course."
"Why?"
He looked genuinely surprised by the question. "Because you'd use it."
He shrugged. "Things I make, that make me the happiest is when someone enjoys them and uses them."
Your chest tightened. He said things like that so casually. As though he had no idea how sweet he sounded. You smiled softly. "I'd treasure it." His expression softened immediately.
There it was. That tiny smile. The one that never lasted long. But always reached his eyes. "Then I'll make it." He pulled out a notebook. "Do you prefer silver or gold?"
"Silver."
He wrote it down. The space grew quiet again. Comfortably quiet. He wrote down what spell he would make for you, what it would look like, any additional decor for the ring, that had nothing to do with the spell. Flowers, vines, something pretty. Like you.
Outside, birds chirped in the afternoon sunlight. Eventually you rested your head against your arms on the work desk, watching him work.
He noticed after a few minutes. "What?"
You smiled sleepily. "...You're pretty."
His pencil slipped. A crooked line stretched across the page.
He stared at you. His face became wonderfully red. He sighed with exaggerated defeat. He was smiling. Really smiling.
He looked back down at the sketch. "I'll make it perfect."
You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you simply watched him continue working, completely absorbed in creating something meant just for you.
The thought of seeing you happy was reason enough.
+++
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requests ツ
a/n: please keep in mind while requesting, if your requests contained spoilers, i may not write it until it's animated. i mainly stay away from spoiler-related things for anime only's!
small a/n: happy birthday to me! here's a small gift from me :) im 25 today!!
-----
You sat at the table, quietly eating breakfast while Coco excitedly talked about something she'd learned moments ago. Tetia was laughing about Coco's excitement. Agott was pretending not to listen while secretly listening to every word. Richeh sipped her tea with a small smile.
That tiny ache in your chest only grew stronger. You lowered your gaze to your bowl.
Today was your birthday.
At least, you thought it was.
You hadn't really celebrated it in years. As a child, birthdays had come and gone like any other day. Sometimes your parents forgot entirely. Sometimes they remembered and offered a distracted "happy birthday" before returning to work.
Eventually you stopped caring. Or at least you convinced yourself you did. Birthdays were for people who mattered. Not for you.
You pushed the thought away and continued eating. Across the table, Qifrey watched you.
His visible eye lingered on your face for only a moment.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The day passed normally. You helped clean the atelier and ran errands into town. Everything was perfectly ordinary. You found yourself glancing at the clock more than once. Then scolding yourself for it.
What exactly were you expecting?
No one knew it was your birthday. You hadn't told anyone. Why would you?
As the sun began to set, the apprentices disappeared somewhere after dinner. Qifrey had vanished as well.
You assumed everyone was busy, so you climbed the stairs toward your room. Halfway down the hallway, a familiar voice called out.
"My, my."
You turned.
Qifrey stood at the end of the corridor. His white hair caught the warm evening light spilling through the windows. His pointed hat sat crooked atop his head, and his usual smile curved softly across his face.
"There you are."
You blinked. "Were you looking for me?"
"Perhaps." He offered his hand. "Would you come with me?"
You frowned. "...Why?"
His smile widened. "It's a surprise."
"That makes me trust you less."
Qifrey laughed. The sound echoed warmly through the hallway. "Fair enough."
Still, you took his hand. His fingers closed gently around yours. He led you downstairs. The moment you stepped outside, you froze.
Dozens of tiny magical lights floated among the flowers like stars or fireflies... or both.
Translucent ribbons hung from tree branches, one of Richeh's spells. A table had been set beneath the largest tree. There was food, drinks, and a cake.
Your breath caught. Everyone jumped out at once.
"Happy birthday!"
You nearly fell backwards from just being in shock and of course it scared you, all the yelling. Tetia laughed so hard she doubled over. Coco was grinning from ear to ear. Richeh waved enthusiastically. Even Agott looked pleased with herself.
Your mind completely stopped working. "W-What?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Coco giggled.
"What..." You stared. "What is all this?"
"It's your birthday," Tetia said.
"As if we'd ignore that!"
Your throat tightened. "But I never told anyone."
At that, everyone looked toward Qifrey. The witch simply smiled. He'd figured it out somehow.
You looked back at him. "When?"
"Several weeks ago." The man had apparently discovered your birthday and secretly planned this entire thing.
You stared at him. He smiled innocently. You narrowed your eyes. He smiled wider.
Suddenly, your vision was becoming blurry. You swallowed hard. "It's just a birthday." The words slipped out automatically. The same words you'd told yourself for years.
You regretted saying it immediately when there was silence. The girls all looked at each other worriedly. They were scared they did something, said something, to upset you,
Then, Qifrey stepped closer. His expression softened. "Perhaps." His hand rested lightly atop your head. "But I think the day you were born is worth celebrating."
The lump in your throat became painful. You looked away. "It isn't that important."
"It is to us."
Your eyes widened. The apprentices nodded. Especially Agott. Though she'd never admit it.
"You live here," Coco said.
"You're family."
Family.
Nobody had ever used it for you before. Your vision blurred completely.
And before you could stop it a tear slipped down your cheek. Everyone immediately pretended not to notice. His thumb brushed beneath your eye, wiping away the tear before it could fall.
"Ah." His voice was impossibly gentle.
You laughed shakily.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"...No, I don't." You really didn't.
Qifrey smiled. "Come now." He gestured dramatically toward the cake.
"We worked very hard on this."
"I mostly worked hard on this," Agott corrected.
"True."
"I decorated!" Tetia protested.
You found yourself laughing. The sound surprised even you. Qifrey sat beside you beneath the glowing lights. The celebration continued around you.
At one point the apprentices gave you handmade gifts, each crafted with obvious care and affection. Somehow, they felt more valuable than anything you'd ever owned.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Hours later, as the celebration slowly wound down, you found yourself sitting beside Qifrey beneath the stars. The others had gone inside. You looked up at the sky.
Then at him. "Thank you."
His visible eye shifted toward you. "For what?"
"You know what."
A smile touched his lips. "You're welcome."
You hesitated. "I never celebrated before."
Qifrey's expression softened. "I know." His hand found yours. "You deserved to."
You squeezed his hand. Your birthday didn't feel like an ordinary day. It felt important. Because someone had cared. Qifrey looked up at the stars. Then smiled at you.
update for everyone, i downsized my oneshot requests and added two characters to test the waters but they may not stay so if you want Easthies x reader or inguin x reader, i recommend requesting sooner than later!
and also im not writing for so many fandoms. they're still on my account but ill put them under my # cozmowritesoneshot tag for the tage archive or whatever (eventually)
Olruggio realized you hated mirrors and him finding out was by accident. You still used them when necessary— fixing your hat, checking ink smudges on your cheeks, making sure your cloak sat right on your shoulders before leaving the atelier. But you never looked for long.
A glance. A correction. Then away.
Olruggio noticed things like that.
He noticed the way your hands tugged at your sleeves whenever the other witches in town passed by in their fitted robes. The way you angled yourself behind shelves during market trips and the way your smile dimmed whenever someone casually mentioned how "delicate" or "tiny" another witch looked.
He noticed. He just didn't know what to say about it.
You sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting charms into little wooden boxes. The room smelled faintly of smoke from a fire spell of sorts that Olruggio had been practicing. He sat at the table nearby repairing a broken pen afterwards with practiced precision.
You huffed quietly. One of the charms snapped in your grip.
"Careful," he said automatically. "That one's brittle." It's already broken so what was the point of that comment?
"I know." Your tone came sharper than intended.
Olruggio glanced over.
You kept your eyes down. "...Sorry," you muttered.
"It's fine."
Silence settled again, heavy. The kind that existed often between the two of you lately— comfortable at first, until it wasn't.
You shifted, reaching for another box, only for your sleeve to catch against the edge of the table. Several charms spilled across the floor with loud clattering snaps. "Oh, for fuck's sake—" You bent quickly to gather them, frustration boiling over too fast.
Your stomach pressed awkwardly against your knees. Your cloak bunched wrong. Everything felt too tight, too noticeable, too much.
And then, Olruggio stood to help.
"I've got it," you said immediately.
"You dropped half the set."
"I said I've got it." Your words were harsh and you basically pushed him away with your words. You snapped.
He paused. You could feel his eyes on you as you scrambled for the charms before he could reach them first.
Stupid. You were being stupid.
The embarrassment had already crawled hot beneath your skin, impossible to pull back. One charm rolled near his flats. He bent to pick it up.
When he handed it over, your fingers brushed. "You're upset," he said quietly.
"I'm fine." You really wanted him to stop bothering you.
"You're not."
You laughed once under your breath. Bitter. "Amazing observation skills. Really!" The sarcasm dripped out your lips. You pressed your palm against your forehead in frustration.
Olruggio ignored the jab. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"You were alright earlier."
"Well, maybe I got tired of existing for five minutes."
He went quiet and immediately, guilt twisted in your chest. Olruggio wasn't cruel. He wasn't thoughtless. If anything, he tried too hard sometimes, especially lately.
He crouched down across from you, forearms resting loosely on his knees. "Talk to me."
You stared at the charms in your hands. "I don't wanna hear it."
"Hear what?"
"The same thing again."
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
"You're pretty," you said flatly, clearly mimicking him. "You're beautiful. You look fine. I like the way you look." Your throat tightened. "I know you mean it, Olly, but after a while it just sounds rehearsed."
"That's not—"
"And I'm tired." Your voice cracked unexpectedly. "I'm tired of feeling huge all the time. I'm tired of noticing every skinny witch that walks past me. I'm tired of wondering if people are looking at me and thinking—"
"They're not."
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"You can't. You're not chubby so you don't have to worry about what people are thinking."
The room fell silent again. Olruggio looked at you for a long moment. Usually, when you spiraled like this, he answered quickly. This time, he stayed quiet.
You laughed shakily and looked away. "See? Even you don't know what to say anymore."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
He exhaled slowly through his nose. "I think..." He searched for the words with unusual care. "I think I keep trying to fix it. And I can't."
You looked up at him then.
Olruggio leaned back slightly against the table behind him, gaze steady on yours. "I can tell you you're beautiful a hundred times," he said. "Because you are. But if you don't believe it, eventually it just sounds like something empty."
Your chest tightened painfully. "You don't get it."
His expression shifted faintly. "You think I've never hated how I looked?"
You frowned.
Olruggio gestured vaguely toward himself. "Tall. Intimidating. Constantly exhausted-looking. People avoid me before I even speak." A dry smile tugged briefly at his mouth. "When I was younger, I thought if I smiled more, dressed differently, spoke softer... maybe people would stop looking at me like I was dangerous."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Because yours is about weight?"
You flinched slightly.
Olruggio immediately softened. "I'm not mocking you."
"I know."
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "What I'm trying to say is..." He sighed quietly. "I know what it's like to have your reflection decide your mood before the day even starts." He paused. "You don't have to magically love yourself tomorrow," he continued. "And I'm not asking you to believe every compliment I give you immediately." His eyes flicked briefly toward your hands. "But I wish you wouldn't talk about yourself like you're something unpleasant to endure."
Your eyes burned. That was the thing about Olruggio. He never sounded fake. He said things plainly, carefully, like he was handing you something fragile.
"I don't know how to stop," you admitted quietly.
"I know." His answer came instantly this time.
You laughed weakly, rubbing at your face. "You're annoyingly understanding."
"I've been told."
A tiny smile pulled at your mouth despite yourself.
Olruggio noticed immediately. "There you are," he murmured.
You rolled your eyes. "Don't make it weird."
"Too late."
He stood, offering you a hand.
You eyed it suspiciously. "What?"
"Come here."
"Why?"
"Because I want you over here."
"That's not an explanation."
"It's the only one you're getting."
You hesitated before finally taking his hand. Olruggio pulled you up easily— not because you were light, not because he treated you delicately, but because he simply did. You felt right in his grip, to him.
Once you were standing, he adjusted the crooked sleeve of your cloak with surprising gentleness. Then he leaned down slightly, pressing a brief kiss against your forehead.
"You're allowed to have bad days," he said quietly.
You stared at the front of his coat rather than meeting his eyes. "...Even if they're repetitive?"
"Especially then."
Your fingers curled slightly into his sleeve. "And you're allowed to get tired of reassuring me too."
Olruggio snorted softly. "You assume I'd stop."
"There's the rehearsed line again." You rolled your eyes.
"It's still true."
You groaned quietly, but this time it came with a laugh hidden underneath it and Olruggio, hearing that, smiled just a little against your hair.
The scratch of Qifrey's pen against parchment was rather loud in the quiet. He was working on spells while his students were asleep. And you? You couldn't sleep. You figured it was best to just sit around Qifrey as his presence was comforting.
You sat curled in the oversized chair near the fire, knees tucked to your chest beneath one of Qifrey's blankets, pretending to read the book open in your lap. In truth, you'd reread the same sentence six times. Your attention kept drifting.
Qifrey sat hunched slightly at the table, hat discarded nearby, silver hair spilling over his face while he worked. Every so often, he glanced toward you without meaning to. Like checking to make sure you were still there.
It should've made you feel warm. You didn't feel that warm at all.
Earlier that day, you'd gone into town together. Just for ingredients, groceries. Nothing that was incredibly important. But you'd caught your reflection in a shop window while walking beside him, and the image had lodged itself painfully into your mind ever since. Qifrey wondered if you were looking at the fabrics in the window, wondering about if you wanted a new dress or something.
It wasn't that at all.
Qifrey looked elegant without trying.
You looked—
You shut the book harder than intended, rubbing your temples just barely.
Qifrey looked up immediately. "Hm?"
"Nothing."
His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long before he set his pen down. "You've been quiet since we came back."
"I'm always quiet."
"You are absolutely not always quiet." He spoke. The floor creaked softly as he crossed the room. He stopped beside your chair, resting one hand against the back of it.
"You're upset."
"I said I'm fine." You looked away, not wanting to see.
"Mhm." That gentle, knowing tone made irritation flare hot in your chest. You hated that tone. It meant he could see through you again.
You stared harder at the unread page. "Can we not do this tonight?"
His expression softened. "Do what?"
"The thing where you keep asking until I say it."
Qifrey was quiet. Then, carefully, "If I stop asking, you'll sit here hurting alone."
"I already am." The words slipped out. That's not what you meant to say. You immediately regretted them.
Qifrey didn't recoil, but you saw the hurt flicker briefly across his face before he hid it. He crouched beside the chair instead, bringing himself closer to eye level with you. "What happened today?" He does that a lot.
You laughed weakly. "You really don't give up."
"Not when it's you."
Your throat tightened. You looked away from him toward the firelight dancing across the floorboards. "...I saw us in the window."
Understanding dawned across his face almost instantly.
Oh.
Oh.
You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. "And before you say anything— yes, I know what you're going to say. You're going to tell me I'm beautiful." Your voice cracked slightly. "You always say that."
"Because you are."
"There." You looked at him finally, frustrated tears burning behind your eyes. "That. That's exactly what I mean."
Qifrey blinked softly.
"I'm tired of hearing it because it doesn't help." Your hands clenched around the blanket. "You say I'm beautiful and lovely and soft and whatever else, but it doesn't change the fact that every room I walk into, it reminds me I'm bigger than everyone else in it."
The words spilled out now, ugly and aching.
"I see the way dresses fit other witches. I see how easy they move. I see how graceful they look." Your voice dropped quieter. "And then there's me." You laughed bitterly. "And I know you mean well, but sometimes it feels like you're reading compliments from a script."
That finally made something in his expression falter.
"...A script," he repeated softly.
You looked down immediately. That's not what you wanted to say, but it's what came out. You didn't know how to fix the words you said, you spilled. Silence settled heavily between you. The fire crackling was loud.
Qifrey rested his arms against the side of the chair, thinking for a long moment before speaking again. "I think," he said slowly, "I keep repeating myself because I'm afraid there's some perfect arrangement of words that will finally make you believe me. And when it doesn't work..." He smiled faintly, though it looked tired around the edges. "I try the same thing again anyway."
You swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," you whispered.
Qifrey shook his head immediately. "Don't apologize for hurting."
"But I hurt you."
"A little. But I'd rather you tell me the truth than smile while suffering beside me." He spoke softly, his glasses falling down his nose just gently.
Your eyes burned. He reached out then, slow enough to give you time to pull away. When you didn't, he took your hand carefully between both of his.
"You know," he murmured, tracing his thumb lightly across your knuckles, "I don't look at you and think about your weight nearly as much as you think I do."
You huffed softly. "That's easy for you to say."
"It is." He nodded once. "Because when I look at you, I notice other things first."
You glanced up reluctantly.
"The way you hold your teacup with both hands when it's cold." A tiny smile touched his mouth. "The way you lean into books so completely that the rest of the world disappears." His thumb brushed gently over your skin again. "The sound you make when you're trying not to laugh."
Heat crept into your cheeks despite yourself.
"And," he added softly, "the way you look at my apprentices when they're excited about something. Like you're already fond of them before they've even finished speaking."
Your eyes stung again.
"That's what stays with me." His gaze held yours steadily now. "Not numbers. Not shapes. Not comparisons to strangers in windows."
You looked away quickly before you could cry. "...I still don't like how I look."
"I know."
You expected another reassurance. Another beautiful, lovely, soft.
Instead, Qifrey simply rested his forehead lightly against the edge of the chair near your arm and said quietly, "But you deserve to be loved while you're still learning how to live with yourself."
You covered your face with one hand, shoulders trembling once.
Qifrey immediately stood, concern flashing across his features. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," you whispered through a watery laugh. "No, you idiot."
Relief crossed his face so quickly it almost made you cry harder. You reached for him first this time. Qifrey melted toward you instantly, wrapping his arms carefully around your shoulders as you buried your face against his robes. He held you close without squeezing too tightly, one hand rubbing slow circles against your back.
"You're very difficult to care for sometimes," he murmured into your hair.
You let out a muffled noise of offense.
"And yet," he said, voice warm now, "I remain unfortunately devoted."
Despite everything aching inside you, a small laugh escaped your chest. Qifrey smiled against your temple at the sound, holding you a little closer.
===
a/n:
hi loves, work has been incredibly demanding lately so it's been hard to publish a oneshot. and i've been trying to update my bakugou/mha fandom stories at the same time AND working on other hobby projects in the background.
i've seen a lot of people request stuff!! (thank you :D !!) i will, however share, that i won't be writing about any spoilers unless it's been animated just simply for my own peace of mind and others. i DO appreciate the requests, but im not quite comfortable with stepping into the spoilers side of things. im only on volume 14 and only plan to continue reading chapters once the volumes release. im not a fan of digital manga, i adore physical. (last time i got into digital manga was for tbhk)
anyways, i think that's all im covering! i have one olruggio x reader im working on of this same concept.
The first time you met Olruggio, he corrected your grip on a pen without saying a word.
You had been trying to draw a stable pyro-ball sigil for nearly an hour, hunched over the work desk while your mentor (Beldaruit) lectured Qifrey about controlled water balls. Your wrist cramped. Ink stained your finger tips black.
Then a hand reached over yours. "Too stiff," he murmured.
You looked up. A boy around your age stood beside you, dark hair tousled, expression carefully neutral despite the faint soot smudged across his cheek. He pointed to the curve of your line.
"The circle's frightened of you and you didn't close the ring."
"What?"
"The spell." His shoulders lifted slightly. "You're drawing like you expect it to explode."
"That's because it did explode previously." You stared at him.
Then, very quietly, he added, "Maybe a few times."
You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head as his friend, Qifrey, called him over.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Your mentor oversaw two Watchful Eye apprentices in total. You and Olruggio. And one witch, Qifrey. You were always too cautious. Olruggio was too sharp for his own good. And Qifrey whom you never spoke to. You would observe him, but you weren't as fond of him as Olruggio was.
So for a long time, it was mostly just you and him. Qifrey was always called to be around Beldaruit. You and Olruggio were just two children learning how to observe the world without interfering in it.
You copied reports side-by-side at midnight while candles burned low. You learned to decipher hidden inks together. You practiced memory exercises until you could reconstruct entire rooms from a glance.
Sometimes Beldaruit would test you unexpectedly. When Qifrey had gone off, claiming he was only trying to get fresh air. "How many people went into the window way into the great hall today?"
"Seventeen," Olruggio answered immediately.
"Sixteen," you corrected.
Olruggio would frown.
"There was a child that wandered in here by accident. The knight's moralis took care of them," you said.
Beldaruit hummed approvingly while Olruggio stared at you with narrowed eyes.
Afterward he muttered, "I hate when you're right."
"You hate when I'm right specifically?"
"Yes." But he walked beside you all the same.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Watchful Eyes were not trained for comfort.
You learned how to disappear in crowded streets. How to gather information without attachment. How to leave quietly when your assignment ended.
"Connections cloud judgment," Beldaruit often said.
You hated that lesson most.
Despite everything, despite the rules and distance and discipline, you and Olruggio became inseparable in all the tiny ways that mattered. He left half-finished tea beside your notes when you worked too long.
You fixed the tears in his cloak because he never noticed them before, things that would happen while him and Qifrey played. He'd sit near you during long horse rides between towns when you'd finally be able to leave the great hall, shoulder barely brushing yours, both of you pretending not to notice.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The year you graduated, it rained for three straight days.
Beldaruit handed each of you separate assignments with the same detached calm he used for everything else. The only time he wasn't calm was for Qifrey. Olruggio would become a Watchful Eye under Qifrey, who went on to take in students.
You were assigned farther north. Farther away from Olruggio. Father away from those you'd grown close to.
Different ateliers. Different lives.
You remember standing right outside the window way. The crisp breeze in Kahln seemed to be where you were parting. It's almost as if the wind knew.
And unfortunately, neither of you knew how to say goodbye. You've never had to say "bye", it was always "until next time".
"So," you said finally.
"So," he echoed.
You wanted to ask him not to go, or to ask him to take you with him. The thought died inside just a small bit. You couldn't do that to him, or yourself.
Instead you asked, "Do you still think my circles are scared of me?"
A tiny smile appeared. "No," he said. "Only because... you stopped being afraid of them."
The carriage arrived too quickly after that.
You helped him load his things. One bag. That was it. One large bag that he claimed could carry the entire world.
When he climbed aboard, he looked like he wanted to say something too. But instead of saying something he wanted to say, he swallowed it whole and instead said, "Don't get yourself killed."
You snorted softly. "You first."
Then he was gone.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Years passed strangely after that. You ended up leaving your atelier to go to a different one, you left a lot on business, reported on the ateliers that were terrible.
Sometimes months passed without hearing his name. Some journeys you caught traces of him accidentally. He would pop up drinking at bars and parties with his clients.
Whenever you saw him, something warm and painful bloomed in your chest. You wondered if he still drank tea too hot. You wondered if he still forgot to weargloves every winter.
You wondered if he ever thought about you at all.
Probably not.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The next time you saw him in person was during the second examination near the caves.
The gathering of young witches and apprentices crowded the area with noise and lanternlight. Mentors spoke in clusters while students prepared nervously for the trial ahead. It was Qifrey and Olruggio, with all 4 students of their's.
You turned around from talking with your witch, making sure the children that were testing were properly set up. There he was.
Older and taller. And... he had a scruffy beard now?
His features are sharper now, dark cloak hanging neatly from his shoulders. He looked more composed than the boy you remembered. He looked... good. Your face flushed pink, just slightly.
All that composure cracked for half a second when he almost ran into you.
"...Oh," Olruggio said softly.
You forgot every prepared thing you might've said over the years.
"You cut your hair," was what came out instead.
His hand rose instinctively to the back of his neck. "You noticed that first?"
"It's shorter."
"That's usually how haircuts work."
You laughed before you could stop yourself. It felt horribly, painfully familiar. No time had passed at all.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Moonlight silvered the edges of his cloak as the two of you waited at the end for the apprentices.
"You disappeared," he said without turning around.
You leaned beside him. "You did too, I couldn't find you."
"Hm. You were looking for me?" Wind moved gently through the trees below. Then, quieter, he admitted, "I used to look for you."
Your breath caught. He still wasn't looking at you.
He clarified quickly, feeling ashamed for admitting something so honest. "I mean.. hearing for your name from other witches or around The Great Hall."
"Oh."
"I heard you became very good."
You tried smiling. "You sound disappointed."
"I am." Finally, he glanced sideways at you. "Now I can't win arguments against you anymore."
The laugh that escaped you felt fragile. The distance between your shoulders seemed unbearably small.
And yet impossible to cross. You belonged to different paths now. Maybe that was simply how Watchful Eyes lived: always observing, rarely reaching.
Still, when you looked at him beneath the moonlight, you thought very strongly about it.
If there had been another life for the two of you, maybe it would have been a quieter one. Where neither of you had learned how to leave so well.
+++
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small a/n: im tired of being accused of ai bro. i hadn't written in a week and a half because it's so demotivating. im writing this a/n quickly to share my thoughts. ai is never welcome and will never be welcome here in any form of media. FUCK AI!!!
and while i’m at it, you ppl need to LAY THE FUCK OFF THE DAMN AI AND EITHER START READING OR WRITING FANFIC LIKE REAL, INTELLIGENT PEOPLE DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The kettle clicked softly above the fire. You watched it, waiting for the whistle, although... watching it never sped it up. Somewhere upstairs, brushes clinked in a jar where one of the girls was late night studying. It was probably Coco, to be honest. She always studied late.
The atelier was quiet enough that your thoughts had nowhere to hide.
You sat cross-legged on the floor near the low table, your gaze snapped back to what you were working on. Sorting through stacks of parchment and half-finished spell diagrams while trying very hard not to look at Qifrey.
Which, unfortunately, was difficult.
He sat opposite you, hair spilling over one eye as he carefully repaired a student's practice page. Candlelight softened the sharp edges of him. His visible eye moved slowly over the page, thoughtful and patient.
You had spent years beside him now. Years teaching together. Traveling together. Fixing problems around the towns together. Sharing meals at impossible hours because neither of you remembered to eat until midnight.
Somewhere in all those ordinary little moments, your heart had ruined you.
“You’re staring again,” Qifrey said lightly without looking up.
Heat rose immediately to your face. “I am not.”
“You are.”
“You can’t prove that.” You huffed, looking away immediately.
A smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Mm.”
You hated how fond that sound made you feel.
The rain outside grew heavier. It hit rough against the windows and the wind blew which rattled the frames.
You forced yourself back to organizing papers, though your hands had started trembling again. Ridiculous. You had faced tattooed witches before., difficult students, injuries, exhaustion. The brimhats themselves.
And somehow this was worse.
Qifrey finally closed the book in his lap with a soft thud. “You’ve been restless all day,” he said. “Did something happen?”
“No.”
“That was sooo convincing.”
You exhaled sharply through your nose.
He tilted his head slightly then, studying you more carefully now. Concern settled into his expression almost immediately. It always did when it came to you.
Qifrey cared. Qifrey cared too deeply. He remembered your favorite tea without asking. Sat beside you when nightmares kept you awake. He deeply and utterly cared about you.
Anyone would mistake it for love. You already had.
Your fingers tightened around the parchment in your lap. “Qifrey,” you started.
He hummed softly.
Then the words died in your throat. Coward.
“You know,” he said after a moment, voice warm with amusement, “usually when someone says my name like that, they’re about to confess to something terrible. Olruggio does it and Coco...”
Despite yourself, you laughed quietly.
“There,” he said. “Better.”
It didn't feel better. He eased tension like it was second nature. Smoothed rough feelings before they could fully emerge.
“I think,” you said slowly, “I’m in love with you.”
The room became still.
Qifrey’s expression did not change immediately, which somehow made it more painful. The candle crackled softly between you. Rain against the windows. Your own heartbeat growing louder and louder.
Then Qifrey smiled. Devastating. “Oh,” he said quietly. Qifrey set the repaired book aside carefully, buying himself time. You watched the movement of his hands instead of his face. “I care about you very much,” he said.
There it was.
The beginning of the end.
You swallowed hard and nodded once, trying to save him from having to continue, but Qifrey always insisted on honesty when things mattered.
“You’re one of the most important people in my life,” he continued softly. “And I think… perhaps because of that, I should be truthful with you.”
Your chest hurt.
“I don’t feel the same way.”
The words were gentle.
You looked down immediately because your eyes had already started burning.
“Oh,” you echoed faintly.
Silence settled again.
Qifrey shifted forward slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I think I should.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He looked like he wished that were true. Your throat tightened painfully. You stared at the paper in your hands until the ink blurred.
This was humiliating. Some awful hopeful part of you had believed he wouldn’t. All those late nights. All those soft looks. The way he always sought you out first in crowded rooms.
You had built a home out of crumbs and convinced yourself it was real.
“I don’t want things to change,” Qifrey said quietly.
You pressed your lips together hard before speaking. “They probably will for a while.”
His visible eye softened immediately with guilt. You hated that too. Hated making him look at you like you were wounded.
“I should’ve kept it to myself,” you muttered.
“No.”
“But—”
“No,” he repeated gently. “I’m glad you told me.”
You shook your head, smiling weakly despite the sting in your eyes. “That’s easy for you to say.”
Qifrey fell silent. He was a fool.
The candlelight flickered across his face, and for a brief moment something unreadable crossed his expression. Something tired. Then it vanished.
“I know this hurts,” he said.
“You don’t know that.”
Another silence.
Qifrey’s gaze had drifted downward. His fingers rested loosely against his arm, almost tense beneath the fabric.
There was a distance in him suddenly. A wall.
You had noticed it before over the years, in brief moments like this. Times when he looked like he was standing very far away despite being right beside you.
You had never known why.
“I wish…” He stopped himself.
The sentence dissolved unfinished.
Qifrey looked toward the rain-streaked window instead of you. “There are parts of me that make this difficult.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I know.” A faint smile touched his mouth, tired around the edges. “But I don’t want you thinking you were foolish for caring about me.”
You suddenly thought of all the things Qifrey never spoke about. The way he redirected questions about himself. How he smiled through conversations that became too personal. The careful distance he maintained even with those closest to him.
There were locked doors inside him you had never been allowed near.
Perhaps he believed if you ever reached them, you would leave. The realization hurt almost as much as the rejection itself.
“You really are terrible at letting people love you,” you said quietly.
Qifrey let out a soft breath that almost resembled a laugh. “Yes,” he admitted.
Tears finally spilled over despite your efforts. Embarrassing, awful tears you immediately wiped away with the heel of your hand.
“Sorry,” you whispered.
“You never have to apologize for crying.”
“That sounds like something you tell the children.”
“It’s something I tell everyone.”
Qifrey watched you carefully, helplessness flickering briefly across his face. It looked unnatural on him. “I don’t expect you to just stop feeling this,” he said after a moment. “But… it’ll pass.”
The words were meant kindly. But that didn't mean they hurt any less. You stood abruptly before you could embarrass yourself further.
“I think,” you said carefully, voice unsteady, “I’m going to go home.”
Qifrey rose immediately too. “Should I...” He couldn't even finish before you interrupted him abruptly. Too quickly.
“No.”
His expression dimmed slightly.
You closed your eyes briefly, then sighed. “No… I just need a little space tonight.”
“…Alright.”
He respected distance better than anyone.
You gathered your cloak with clumsy hands and moved toward the door. The rain outside could already be heard against the wood.
Before leaving, you paused. Qifrey still stood near the table watching you quietly, candlelight glowing around him.
He was beautiful, and kind. Gentle and now? He was unreachable.
“I don’t regret loving you,” you said softly.
Something fragile crossed his expression. “…Thank you,” he whispered.
You nodded once and stepped out into the rain before he could see you cry again.
there's a lot of olruggio requests so im trying to balance it out with qifrey oneshots/requests (there's like 2 qifrey requests and 6 olruggio requests). i try to do qif, olly, qif, olly, etc etc
ill try to get some stuff posted through the week since ill be working all week (not sunday / monday)
Hello! I am not sure if requests are open and this is also my 2nd time ever requesting so sorry if I do something wrong!
But would you be able to perhaps write qifrey/reader fic where reader has very weak immune system and gets sick easily and the illness sticks to them HARD.
Ofc no pressure! Thank you!
hi! i actually (personally) exclusively take sfw requests through here: https://forms.gle/WTWBKTvBjKvZNnvG8
as said in my pinned ! request box is for nsfw requests only :3
it's easier for me to track requests through the form personally especially since it's hard for me to track elsewhere or remember. i recommend dropping it off there !
The first thing Olruggio noticed was that you were quiet. Not the kind where you sat in the corner with a book and hummed under your breath while organizing the ink jars from the girls or cleaning writing tools. This was a tired kind of quiet. The kind that dragged behind you like wet fabric.
He noticed because you nearly dropped a kettle on yourself. The searing pain in your abdomen distracting you.
Olruggio caught it before it hit the floor, fingers steady around the handle. Steam hissed softly from the spout as the water lightly sloshed about inside.
“You’re distracted,” he muttered.
“Sorry.” You reached for it again, but he angled it away from you slightly, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
“You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.” A lie. An obvious one.
Olruggio had never been particularly good at comforting people. Qifrey somehow made concern look graceful and warm, like sunlight through curtains. Olruggio, meanwhile, tended to stare at problems until they either solved themselves or became too intimidated to continue.
Or he killed them with his fire and burned them away.
Unfortunately, you looked entirely unintimidated by your suffering.
You pressed a hand subtly against your abdomen again when you thought he wasn’t looking. He noticed that too. “…Cramps?”
You froze. How did he know? Then, you sighed. “Unfortunately.”
Olruggio went still for a second, processing. His ears pinkened almost imperceptibly beneath dark hair. “Oh.”
You looked embarrassed now, which somehow made him feel worse. “It’s not a huge deal,” you mumbled quickly. “I can still work.”
“You look like you’re dying.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“You almost poured boiling water onto your hand.”
“Fair.” You scoffed and moved back from the stove, removing the spell from underneath the grates that had the tea kettle on. He clicked his tongue softly and turned away before you could see the conflicted expression crossing his face.
Periods weren’t exactly unfamiliar territory to him. He’d spent enough time around witches, apprentices, and people in general to know what they were. But understanding something and knowing how to handle it were completely different matters.
Comforting people required a level of softness he wasn’t convinced he possessed.
Still.
You looked miserable.
And that feeling in his chest twisted unpleasantly. It wasn't that he entirely hated it, but the annoying tightness that appeared whenever you smiled at him too long or thanked him too sweetly was going to catch up to him.
“Sit down,” he said abruptly.
You blinked. “What?”
“You’re swaying.”
“I am not.”
“You are. I don't wanna catch your ass.”
You opened your mouth to argue further, only for another cramp to visibly hit you. Your shoulders tensed instantly.
Olruggio pointed sharply toward one of the cushions near the low table. “Sit.”
The command startled you enough that you actually listened. He disappeared into the adjoining room before you could protest again. You stared after him, confused.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying an armful of blankets that looked aggressively overstuffed.
“What’s all that?”
He ignored the question entirely and dropped everything onto the couch beside you. “Move over.”
“Olruggio.”
“Move.”
"Olly..." You scooted aside.
He crouched near the pile, muttering under his breath while sorting through the blankets. His long fingers moved carefully, pulling out one thicker quilt from the middle. Then he reached for a small crystal slab.
You tilted your head. “What are you doing?”
“Trying something.”
That honestly could have meant anything with him.
Olruggio pressed his writing wand lightly against the crystal slab, dipping it in ink every now and again. Thin lines of magic drawn on the surface.
You remembered the pattern, the sigil. It's a snugstone. He showed you that one once. His work in progress, but he actually finished it? Your eyes widened slightly.
“…Oh.”
"Hopefully it's warm enough." He sounded irritated with himself already. But when he draped the blanket carefully over your lap, warmth spread instantly across your aching stomach and lower back.
You nearly melted on the spot. “Oh, that’s heavenly.”
Olruggio looked away too fast. “It’s basic.”
“I think I love you.”
The words slipped out thoughtlessly.
His entire posture locked up. You blinked, realizing what you’d said. “I mean— not like—”
“I understood what you meant.” His ears were definitely red now.
You sank lower beneath the blanket in embarrassment while Olruggio stood stiffly beside the couch, suddenly fascinated by literally anything else in the room.
After a long silence, he cleared his throat. “…Does it help?” He was distracting the both of you from what just happened.
“A lot.” You sounded softer now. Relaxed. That strange tightness in his chest eased slightly.
Without another word, he disappeared again. This time, he returned with food. Actually, it wasn't "food". It was a lot of sweets he had baked for the girls earlier. Or was it really for the girls?
“You hate sweets.” You grumbled, looking at the sweet bread.
“I tolerate them.”
You laughed despite yourself, the sound quieter than usual but genuine.
Olruggio carefully set everything down on your blanket.
There were small frosted pastriessugar-dusted bread twists, little chocolate biscuits, and even candied fruit skewers.
“You absolutely did not have to do all this.”
He shrugged awkwardly. “You said once that sweet things help.”
Your expression softened. Olruggio immediately regretted existing. You looked at him with such warmth that it made him feel oddly vulnerable, like standing too close to a cliff edge.
He adjusted his his spot next to you unnecessarily. “Well. Eat something.”
You picked up one of the pastries slowly. Olruggio became acutely aware of your presence immediately.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” you murmured between bites.
“I’m not babysitting.”
“No?”
“No.”
“You made me a heating blanket and bought enough sweets to feed a festival.”
“…You looked pathetic.”
You snorted. “There it is.”
“What?”
“The Olruggio version of concern.”
“I’m concerned that you’ll collapse and become inconvenient.”
“Mhm.”
He frowned faintly at the obvious disbelief in your voice. The room settled into quiet after that. Comfortable quiet.
The blanket continued radiating warmth over your aching body. The cramps hadn’t disappeared entirely, but they’d dulled enough that you could finally unclench your muscles.
Olruggio picked up a random book, pretending to read a book. Pretending very poorly.
Every few minutes his eyes flicked toward you over the top of the pages. You noticed eventually.
“If you keep looking at me, I'm gonna somehow transfer this pain to you. And you don't want to experience this.”
He stiffened and changed the subject immediately. "…Are they still bad?”
“A little.”
He closed the book with a quiet sigh. “Here.”
Before you could ask what he meant, he shifted closer and adjusted the blanket more securely around your waist, tucking the warmed edges carefully around you to keep the heat from escaping.
His hands were surprisingly gentle for someone who acted like human interaction was a complicated curse. You stared at him. Olruggio, realizing how close he’d gotten, paused awkwardly. For one brief second, neither of you moved. Then he pulled back immediately.
“There.”
“…Thanks.”
His throat felt strangely tight. Ridiculous.
You smiled faintly at him before sinking deeper into the couch cushions. “Thank you, Olruggio.”
That dangerous warmth returned to his chest again. He looked away before you could notice how flustered he suddenly felt. “...It’s... nothing.”
But even as he said it, he reached over wordlessly to pull the blanket higher around your shoulders when you shivered. And when your head slowly tipped sideways onto the couch cushion near him as sleep finally pulled at you, Olruggio stayed exactly where he was.
Face faintly pink.
Guarding the warmth he’d made for you like it was the most important spell in the world.
just some stuff i wanted to ramble about before i forget!
- im still writing for the mha fandom and i am honestly just taking. a break. it's been burning me out and modern settings are stressful. ive been enjoying wha a lot
- im staying away from spoilers that are not animated yet! while i personally started with the anime and have started catching up (im on vol. 11), i will still not be writing manga spoilers until it has been animated. i wish to be respectful and courteous of those who are anime onlys. it's just my personal preference!
- requests will be slow as i work full time, 9~ hours a day, and have only 2-3 off days depending on the week. my writing takes time and im still behind on posting many requests. following is not guaranteed you'll see one specific fandom. my pinned includes many, although not many have been written for
- lastly, i am mainly an x reader blog/writer. while i have "fandom ship x reader" as a request theme, i will only write the fandom ship with relations to reader. im a multishipper (of legal characters! not a weirdo), and do not pay mind to most ships, even if implied, unless stated canon.
i think that covers everything i wanted to say?
i post when i feel like it
ill be shortening the x reader character list as most characters i have nothing written for.
