You can call me Semmel / Padpa, those are generally the names i go by and semmel is my chosen name. I'm Bigender and Androgynous, i go by any pronouns and would love it if you don't call me a woman since it's what i'm comfortable with, i don't mind if you call me a guy!
While you can call me by fem / masc labels like girlie, man, girlfriend ect.
The dark drab environment of the forest surrounds you. A forest with no trees. Only crumbling grey cement walls, dirt coming up from astray floor tiles, and what's been contained slowly crawling out. A forest of its own nature. One you decided to treck into despite the warnings.
There's a big, scary beast who lives in the forest.
No. It didn't live here. Not before anywaysâŠnor did you. It followed you into this place. All the way from the sterile facilities of the company above ground thriving.. down here to the crumbling remains buried after the incidents. An expedition you were assigned to in order to retrieve things with another team. LCB was desperately attempting to fill in its various roles and trying to figure out its priorities with who remained. All to bide time while they roped in new hires. You were a more expendable choice with the rest of your colleagues.
That's what you considered yourself. What the company did as well. You weren't a fool. You knew where you stood in the cooperation conglomerate as fodder. You didn't mind. It was better than living in the backstreets. Live? You get to live on. Die? You don't have to deal with any of this anymore. You had no qualms about it. Someone else however begged to differ. Someone you hardly ever thought of.
The thousands of yellow eyes scattering around the room and through fabrics in time to stare down at you didn't agree. The shimmering fabric of space shifting around to chastise you.
It wasn't the day before..no. it was a build up. Arguments with the man you previously worked under and with. Gregor. He'd been given time off to grieve. You hadn't seen him for a while. Yet as soon as murmers and talks of the mission you'd been assigned spread about... He questioned you. When not only you, but the paper work from higher ups landed on his desk confirming this decision. It turned into demands.
It was unusual to see him so frequently. He called your name coldly. Demanding your time. Warning you not to go down. Borderline lectures with fancy big words of how it wasn't optimal. You have better uses somewhere else. There's others more fit for the job than you. The company is making a suboptimal mistake they couldn't afford. Yet there was something in his shaded eyes that felt like it was more than metrics and business. Something you didn't bother to notice as you rolled your eyes and tuned him out.
You should've paid attention.
You walked in the day before to Gregor arguing with a higher up. A stack of paperwork between them, passing hands, being shoved to one end or the other of the desk. Bickering back and forth. Only to get shot daggers by both to get out. This is to be dealt with between the two of them.
The day of.. today.. earlier.. you didn't see him. No lecture. No nothing. You felt relief. Now you know why.
Your legs twitch. Pinpricks. They've fallen asleep. Your breathing is heavy as you awkwardly sit on this strange structure.. It looks like a mockery of a bird's nest. It's comprised of junk, torn cloth, and other misshapen scraps. It was like an awkward bean bag. Just a lot more uncomfortable. Not to mention you couldn't leave.
Earlier a section of roof had caved in..sealing off you from a sector of the facility and your team. You had scrambled around the place, trying to regain contact in any way, finding a comms system to use. Anything. All while fending for yourself against the creatures that still roamed. Shrieking as they spotted you and pursued close behind.
Sure. Maybe at first it was easy to fend for yourself. Then suddenly it wasn't.
Blood had soaked your gear. Sinking into the cracks. Your own and some other. You'd been beaten up. Swarmed by the peccatula in droves, tearing into you as much as they could, your body had begun to fail. Your ego gear started to malfunction and falter. What did you expect from such unstable gear you'd been assigned?
There had been chittering noise as something darted towards you. You didn't get to attack. You didn't get the ability to. A crossbow's arrow soared from the darkness to pierce it. Then another. Then a flurry of calculated shots. Pinning it and its miserable existence down as it twitched and sputtered its last moments of life. Cracks forming in the wall from the impact of them.
There loomed Gregor in the dark. In a disheveled state you'd never seen him in before. Crossbow clutched in one hand, lightly rattling from tremors of his tensed hand. His other hand seemed to be wrapped around nothing. His gloves glowed a teal despite the grime that caked them. His night visions goggles with their vibrant green dangled around his neck. The rest of his attire was black, a shimmering, moving thing. Eyes peering from all over it from bristled feathers that flowed into a some odd cape.
You only had a fleeting moment to question the attire in your head. Then the more important ones came into focus. Not how he got here, what he was doing here, how he found you. No, no. Rescue. Contacting the surface teams. Security. One of the other departments to come help. You were met with a curt denial.
There would be no rescue team. The likelihood the company would expend such resources to retrieve a single staff sealed off was astronomically low. A waste of resources from the company's standpoint.
So he was sent then? He could get you up to the surface right? He's more valuable to the company. He has his weight he can use to pull strings. That spark of hope shot down too.
Yes.. and no. Your naive assumption is not entirely incorrect. He was here to aid you. However.. you would not be returning to the surface. That attempt at a trip up would be far too perilous, if not guaranteed death.
Your panic was met with empty assurances and odd wording.
No. He would not contact the rescue team despite his ability to do so. They were incapable of taking care of you sufficiently in order to ensure your wellbeing. You were safe as it. He'd make it safe. He'll rid this forest of any beasts other than himself.
You didn't get a way to choose. He had already grabbed onto your arm. A request that you don't move, his empty hand raised up above, the hand you thought was empty.
For a brief moment, you can see a hammer, composed of noise. A white mist. Despite how light it looked, it came slamming down onto your skull with a heavy weight. Your vision blacked in an instant.
You're roused from your pitiful backtracking by movement in front of you. Noises of many movements fill your ears as the eyes retreat to him in front of you. His cape settles behind him as he stands in front of the nest he had placed you in. He's muttering to himself.
âThis is absurd. They are a full grown adult this is hardly-â
He's cut off. It seemed the ego gear whispered back to him. Nothing audible to you. Yet the way the eyes all glanced up at him as the feathers ruffled implied there was some sort of exchange going on. It wasn't unusual for ego gear to interact with its wearer in strange ways.
âThere are multiple errors I could point out in that statement alone-â He's stopped again. He relents in whatever argument he's having internally.
âThat is a fair assessment. Let's focus on the task at hand.â His gaze drifts down to you, moving to your side.
He crouches down beside the nest. You try to move back, edges from the junk that comprised the nest scrape against you. Your back slams into the wall. Gregor is unamused by your fear. Sighing tiredly.
âI'd advise you to stay still. This will be quick, no need to draw this out for either of us." Quick he was. Reaching forward to grab ahold of your face. firmly gripping your jaw with one hand, the other quickly goes to your hair. He ruffles your hair, moving your hair so he can get a better look at your head, tilting it. Examining where he had bashed you over the skull with the hammer earlier.
For a long silence you sit there.. shaking as he keeps you in an iron grip. Looking over multiple times. Multiple eyes preening you with their gaze. He's being thorough with his check up on you. He eventually lets go with a small hum. Saying nothing.
He digs a small notepad out of his pocket. Scribbling something down in it quickly. You didn't even realize there were even pockets on that strange jacket. The void black of it made it hard to differentiate anything but the piercing yellow eyes.
You flinch as he waves his hand in front of your face. His gloves that blaring, frankly neon, teal that'd irritate anyone's eyes. Snapping his fingers.
âWhat.. the fuck are you doing.â you grit out. What else are you supposed to say? Was that even him in there or had he lost all his sanity? A man you'd never considered a threat was now the most present and forefront one to you. Not to mention manhandling you.
âI am attempting to evaluate whether or not you've suffered any sufficient damage to your brain.. through admittedly rudimentary tests.â He writes more on the notepad. His brow twitching before he puts it back into his pocket. It disappears into the shreds of time.
He weighs the hammer in his hand, still invisible to your eye, yet you knew now it was there. Your head started to hurt again from just thinking about it.
âHowever without the proper equipment and ways to eliminate outside factors.. I won't be able to really tell until more severe symptoms show.â He grumbles to himself. Now realizing his efforts were foolish. No real data is able to be gathered from it. If that's what he even really wanted. His touch had lingered too long for a check up.
âWhat the hell has gotten into you? What the fuck is all of this? What are you doing?â You've managed to get our voice back. Rightfully pissed. Your only chance to escape was sabotaged, for what? Even if they wouldn't ever send a rescue team in the first place.. he could've let you hope. He sure as hell could help you get out.
Now you're in a weird nest as he treats you like you're some sort of specimen.
âI believe that stated that earlier. Do you not remember?.. Perhaps I did hit you too hard.â His head tilts oh so slightly. You swear you could almost see a slight tremble ripple through him.
âThat didn't explain shit.â Your face is growing hot from anger and confusion. Yet the rest of your body is cold and clammy as you shift. Grasping onto the jagged edges of this bird's nest. Dread pooling into your stomach, you try to focus on your breathing.
âYou can't keep me here.â You wobble as you try to lift yourself up. You barely get onto your feet before you're quickly knocked back down. You land flat on your ass. Your spine collides against the hard material of the structure, you hiss in pain as the sharp pang goes through your back. Gritting your teeth.
His shoe plants itself onto the rim of the nest. The noise of the crossbow being loaded is audible. The feathers of the cape rustle, the eyes zone in on you, their pupils dilating. The room looks almost like it's warping.. or maybe it was just bits of his ego gear wisping around. Flailing up with his emotions.
âOh. I am more than capable of doing just that.â The gaze from his eyes was more suffocating than the dozens of eyes already aimed on you. It burned into you with something sick. While the other eyes merely watched.
âYou are not leaving the nest.â There was a tremor to his voice. The gear shifts again. The black supposed fabric whips around the room. Almost like a mist.
âIf needed I will incapacitate you further. Although I'm sure we both wish to avoid that outcome.â
Him? Threatening you? Last thing you could expect from him. He was just bluffing. Yeah. Bluffing. You weren't going to be trapped here by a bluffs
âNo.. no you wouldn't. You don't-â the attempt at a snarky comment is cut off by his hands digging in your shoulders. An iron grip. It feels like he's going to break the bone of your shoulder blades as your wince.
âYou will not wander in the forest to be tempted.. I will not lose you to the beasts that roam inâ His voice has dropped to a whisper. As if he was scared to be overheard.
He presses down harder. Forcing you further against the cold wall. Back further into the corner he's allocated you.
âEven if you wander out into the forest.. I will find you. I will find you and drag you out of it.â He wasn't even talking like himself anymore. He wasn't talking like this moments ago. Had the ego gear corroded him? What was him and what was the ego?
âYou're safe here with me.â He lets go. Yet he doesn't back away.
There's a soft scuttle. The sound of shifting debris. His head whips around to look over his shoulder at an inhumane speed. The pupils of the many other eyes all strain to look that way as well. All while you can't even see past him.
Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors; they hate you at first; swearing; canon typical violence (mentioned); device hacking + privacy being breached; threats (directed at MC); spoilers for several Cantos; written by someone who's still on Canto 6 </3; probably OOC; MC implied to play on phone; NOT PROOFREAD
Notes: Lil celebration post as my requests finally open!!! Also I wanna try using m-dashes now. It isn't AI I just like how m-dashes look
To them, you meant their downfall. Your very existence. Your inane ramblings. Your voice. Your stupid voiceâŠ
You simply being there proved it was all fake. All the suffering, all the growth, all the memories and relationships. All false events slipped and interwoven into their minds like a plague.
None of it was real. None of what they went through- were made to go through- was real.
So why? Why do you now sit safely behind that invisible wall, voice ringing in their ears as you chat with people around you and things around you and to them. To them?
You can't even comprehend how your mere existence ruined their lives. Ruined any dreams, hopes, goals. All burned by a single word and left them stranded with the ashes as you continued as if you didn't even know. Did you even know? Could you even understand?
But it wasn't like they could get rid of you. You were safe. Simply just a presence they were forced to hear again and again and again.
âŠ
Each and every Sinner, at least once, wished they could kill you. Find and mangle your body, try to ruin you as you ruined their lives. They hated you, they swore they hated you.
Well⊠not one.
Dante had no memories to lose. No relationships to watch burn. No complicated past that was so real to them and yet wasn't at all. They were simply a clock-headed manager who swore they heard you clearest of all. Each kind word you uttered, each humorous remark, each light tease, each complaint, each murmur.
They liked listening to you. They sympathized with why the Sinners and others aboard Mephistopheles felt different, yes, but they didn't understand. They had nothing to lose, and- even if the world they existed in technically "wasn't real"- you treated it as if it was. It gave them relief, in all honesty.
That probably was why the reliance came so swiftly. You gave them reason. Made it felt real. Each cheer and blissful remark as they succeeded in their goals and each bemused chuckle as comical events occurredâŠ
Without you, well, could their life even be "real"?
Your appearance broke up the monotony of day to day life. You would usher the story along, encouraging the Sinners along their paths just as they did, and acted as if this world was a very real thing you merely peered into. Something like a book, real as long as you're there to witness it.
You had favorites, things and characters you resented, scenes you found funny or made you start to cry. You were more than a person. You were a force who strung along this world and Dante was so willing to let you lead them any which way.
They already had little say over actions, less so than the Sinners, so what even was the harm? When you clicked that "Win Rate" button, they got to choose what actions the Sinners took (even if you'd often reach in and correct them to be "better" choices). And if they were forced to bow to the whims of someone kind like you, someone who gently encouraged them to lead and rejoiced with each success, why would they complain?
All they wish is that they could've been the one to greet you whenever you open the game.
ââ â â â
No Sinner warmed up to you as quickly as Dante. Well, excluding Meursault.
But to say Meursault "warmed up" to you would be quite the overstatement. In fact, he merely accepted his position and continued on as per usual. He was under the Manager's command, but- by a technicality- the Manager was under your command. Therefore, you were his true superior here.
He was willing to tolerate you and follow through on your commands. While some of your remarks were more questionable, he was willing to turn a deaf ear and continue his duty as long as you were there to give it to him. As for his real "warming up"⊠well, that comes later. Far later. And no one even notices when it does.
Outis as well accepted her position. Her little remarks weren't tolerated when you experienced the stories of the Sinners (she had received enough reprimand from Dante for attempting to slip a snide remark you immediately clocked and grew confused on), so all she could do was grit her teeth and go along with whatever order you issued in battle and listen to you be so foolish she wish she simply couldâ
âŠIt was no use. Clearly, someone in a position like yours was better off blissfully unaware they were essentially a god looking in upon a world of dolls sat prettily for them to watch suffer again and again. Even if you were, kindly put, an actual idiot often, you were capable of slight strategy at times. Often scraping past bosses in the first few attempts if they were deemed a challenge and doing what you could to ensure fights ended in the favor of the Sinners (even if the story often turned around and said they failed).
And while certain things could improve, she wasn't going to break the orders given to her and say anything.
Ishmael, meanwhile, had to such qualms.
Specifically after her Canto, to be precise. Her confrontation with the fake woman who ruined a false life wasn't what she yearned it to be the moment she started going down this path, yet you treated it as if it were real. Being horrified at the things she suffered through and cheering as she speared through the Whale's heart with her snag harpoon.
She wanted to scream it was fake. That it didn't matter and was pointless. But you⊠you made it had a point. Somehow, someway, you forced it to be real. Real to her, at least.
But, by the name of the Head, your team building skills were pathetic. These passives won't work well with this character- This isn't even a keyword for the central team comp and offers no support- Did you just attempt to put Sunshower Heathcliff onto a team you want to use to complete Canto 7? What is wrong with you?
While she isn't allowed to directly intervene, she is going to make comments in the story. Slight, missable things. Hints to what keywords to use for an upcoming boss, recommendations for IDs and EGOs⊠all carefully crafted to keep you as oblivious as possible as she drills this information into you.
Of course, the wiser of the Sinners catch on to what she was doing. Yet, Faust has no complaints. Being the way she is, it hadn't taken her especially long to catch onto the fact that she- being the primary ID of all Fausts- was the most real one. The others barely existed outside of IDs or EGOs you'd cycle through for each team comp you struggled to compile- even with a certain Sinner's help- and yet she, and only she, would be the one found in each Canto. Returning in each story, central to the plot.
Not to mention, you clearly had a soft spot for her. Specifically her, as the LCB Faust. She couldn't necessarily place it's source- perhaps relating to her role as a shunned figure in the Gesellschaft and connecting it to your own life- or simply finding her to be specifically likeable. Either way, you seemed to listen intently to her lectures. Often complimenting her or something akin to that.
And to say she didn't enjoy it would be an utter lie. She relished in your praise, almost blooming in it like a flower under the sun. It was the first genuine praise she constantly earned in her life, real or fake. And she'd much prefer if it stayed, flowing around her in a constant veil she wanted to wear on her day in and out.
And she was Faust. She was wise enough that, if you stopped enjoying the game, you would leave. Therefore, to regulate success in the form of viable teams was immensurable in ensuring you stayed. Thus, Ishmael was permitted to continue her hints and Faust did what she could to tweak the rates of Extraction in your favor. Especially if the newly released character was something you want.
Furthermore, making her base ID appear in your pulls regularly surely wouldn't bother you. You may question how you acquire so many of her EGO shards, but she knows you will care little about the constant Fausts as you see the chains shine gold.
Yi Sang doesn't miss Ishmael's actions either. He's simply unable to truly comment on it in a way that feels as if it truly meant something. Out of each Sinner, he is one of the most devastated his entire history was a lie. Forced to time and time again witness people he remembers as friends tear themselves and others apart by a past that was never real. Even at the end of his Canto, he felt like he had only slipped deeper into the shell of who he was.
Even your joy didn't make him regaining his wings feel real. Merely a scripted event he was made to undertake. He felt rather pathetic, in a sense. Even his current compatriots were more capable of coping than he was. But he could not.
And when you noticed he continued to behave similarly to how he did pre-Canto. Noticing a few missing lines here and there and slight alterations anyone could've missed. But you commented, and you worried for him.
Perhaps it was simply a worry stemming from an issue with your game, but Yi Sang noticed your murmurs of concern. And to say it didn't warm his heart would be a lie. Constant encouraging, sweet worry, almost delusional behavior on your end⊠You made him want to use those wings he regained, to fly once more. To reach you so high up in the sky and thank you for the love you gave him.
A part of him regretted he never truly could. Never could thank you, or feel your warm skin, or hold you in his arms. Never could utter so much as a new sentence without your experience being warped and you'd leave in fear. But that didn't matter to how his feelings of you changed.
You went from the being that proved it all to be fake to the being that made him feel a genuine warmth he'd never feel again. Perhaps that's why he was the first to admit his love for you.
And his admission wasn't necessarily popular. By this point, out of every Sinner, only about a third of them felt positively about you. To the others, you still were the personification of their ruin.
Of course, though, their attachment grew as you watched them through each of their stories. Encouraging and watching them move forward. Perhaps that was how the seeds of obsession were planted. Perhaps it was because others heard little snippets of what you said and assumed you to be a divine being. Perhaps that was why they started to believe it too.
Don Quixote became one of your most reverent followers by the end of her Canto. Not only had you bore witness to a past she herself wasn't aware of existing (unlike the others, her devastation over the fact her life was nothing but fake fizzled away rather swiftly) and your perception of her barely changed (leave her blissfully unaware you always knew, will you?), but you had listened with rapt attention when she spoke of her beloved Fixers. You deemed each word she uttered as meaningful, and she would do all she could to repay you in whatever way she can.
When you were gone- oh it was painful when you were gone- she was your greatest defender. Any snide comment against you was quickly retorted with a quick yell and charge from her. How dare they slander someone as kind as you! You did not mean to shatter their worldviews! No. After it happened for a second time, she understood you quite well. You only meant well.
You were a truly just figureâthe very thing Don would picture when thinking of such a thing. And she would do all she could to ensure your name remained untainted with foul lies and remarks! Alas, she could not speak to you. Could not lead you about her room and show you each memorabilia and merchandise she has collected for every Fixer she could find merchandise of. She could not see you listen with rapt attention, seeing you nod along from the corner of her eye. Could not hold your hand in hers and usher you about, shield you from those who wished you harm, could not sing your praises to your faceâŠ
But she would be your knight for as long as you were unaware, and for long after.
Heathcliff was in a similar boat to Don. However, at first, he absolutely despised you. Was his love for Cathy even real? Why was he forced to recall suffering that never even existed outside of pieces of code etched into his being? And why did you have any right to saunter about and act as if youâŠ
You're lucky the others held him back from screaming his head off at you. You're also lucky to be safely behind a screen, separated from him and the bat he would love to use to split your skull in half.
But then came along his Canto. It wasn't something he was looking forward too, not feeling ready to go back to Catherineânot with all these doubts of his love you sown in him. But this wasn't something he was allowed to change.
So he went through it. Listening to your words that made him want to pop a blood vessel, deal with the bastards who didn't even truly exist, and find out she was dead. He had to confront his other self, distort, and then fight the Wild Hunt until the Red Gaze stepped in.
But as the Canto started to creep to its end⊠he couldn't muster that hate for you anymore.
Maybe because you didn't leave. Maybe because you let him rest on that moment with the memory of Catherine. Maybe because you mourned alongside him as she was deleted.
He remembered, he was forced to remember. Him and only him.
But you remembered too. Of course you did, you weren't in the bloody game, butâŠ
It was nice knowing someone remembered her alongside him. That, even if he nor she were real, their love was. What he felt wasn't something that could be forced into him, he knew it.
It grew harder to stop him from saying lines that weren't supposed to be in game. Specifically regarding Catherine. Constant comments about her, confusion from the Sinners, but sympathy from you. He wanted you and him to talk about her. Someone who recalled her to hear all the stories he remembered having with her. And you were that someone. You were someone he wanted to walk and reflect with, the real journal he wanted to keep.
You became his new Catherine. The two of you separated, but in love. And he refuses to mess up like how he did with Catherine. There will be no Erlking when it comes to you.
But with Gregor, the Ungeziefer Kaiser is inevitable. Not out of maliceâno. The fight was something he couldn't prevent, as much as both of you wished he could.
It wasn't a pleasant thing, first having everything he knew uprooted and then suffering through⊠That. He already felt lowly enough, with his arm and past experiences. He couldn't understand why you seemed to⊠like him?
You were sweet, appearing unbothered or regularly forgetting about his arm. You thought of him as entirely a human, not the pathetic bug he knew he was. He didn't resent you for forcing him and his coworkers to learn they were never real. He didn't resent you for not leaving and constantly reminding them again and again they were just bits of code in a device. But he couldn't understand how you thought so highly of him.
In all honesty, he didn't think you were half-bad. He didn't get too attached to you or despised you too much. You were alright, and he was alright with you. Then came the Ungeziefer Kaiser fight.
After that, it was like a switch flipped. He was horrified to realize he could be forced into becoming a brutal boss-fight you'd helplessly grow stuck on or struggle past. He was miserable to be left out of the plot for a long time after, alone from everyone.
Being unable to hear your voice for the first time after growing so used to it felt off. He just felt entirely off. When alone with only his thoughts, that's when his opinion of you spirals. And it does moreso when he gets back.
Hearing the relief in your voice⊠overjoyed to see him return and using the new IDs you acquired for him with utter glee⊠He came to realize you loved him. You had to. Why else would you be so glad to see him okay? He couldn't see any other reason for you feeling like this. And, in a way, he supposed he loved you too. Couldn't understood what you saw in him, but⊠A part of him enjoys your love. He'd rather it didn't disappear.
Unlike the others though, he wasn't particularly skilled at hiding his newfound infatuation with you. And Rodion would relentlessly tease him, as if she hasn't been in love with you since Time Killing Time.
Was it something she'd simply fess up to? Oh, absolutely not. She's not that gutsy, after all. She simply knew that, by the end of that Intervello, she had decided she loved you. There was no big build-up like Heathcliff or sudden change like Gregor. She simply decided you were no longer annoying and instead were rather cute.
Funny, how thin a line annoying-ness and cuteness is. And it was simple enough you crossed the line and became a harmless crush. But, having a crush that you can't act on and merely grows as you don't leave, well⊠It went from harmless to so, so much worse.
And unlike the crush, she was well aware of how wrong she was. What kind of woman began to view someone as a possession? But in a sense, you weren't truly a thing to her. You existed outside of her world as a voice who could control the actions taken during combat at most. She saw no physical body of yours, no eyes or skin or anything. She already wasn't entirely sure you viewed her as a human, and she wasn't able to entirely humanize you.
Well, you were doing the same thing, weren't you? Just listening in, thinking of her as just a beloved PNG with text in a box below⊠Maybe making some things for her or admiring her, but not thinking of her as real, no? She was sure you'd make some fucked up shit about her, wouldn't you? So how wrong was she really? You're just as bad as herâŠ
Oh, don't worry! She doesn't hate you for it, no. You're both shitty people with how you think of each other. What's the harm in both of you being shitty together? Shame there's that screen separating you two, and the others on this bus thinking the same as her⊠Wanting her winnings? She'd be offended if she didn't understand why. And at least some of 'em are cute about it, like Gregor or SinclairâŠ
And speaking of Sinclair⊠He is the most wet, sad, pathetic thing when it comes to you. Already you cooing over him flusters and embarrasses him. But he can't see your face when you do it. And he is so lucky there doesn't exist a sprite of him blushing for you to seeâŠ
It also took him quite awhile to fall for you. Mostly due to what you did for him and⊠well⊠his trauma. He sometimes wondered if he was as good as a prosthetic user because he isn't real. He never was. Does he even count as a human..?
Yet, by the time Canto 7 ended⊠well, he was used to your kindness. You wormed your way into his mind until almost every thought involved you. How would you react to this..? Would you enjoy this kind of thing? How would he protect you if..?
There were many what-ifs for someone he couldn't truly interact with. Someone the mere thought of made him tremble. He wondered so many things about you, but feared he'd never get the answers he wanted. He'd never talk face to face with you. He'd never hold your hand. He'd neverâŠ
Hong Lu, though, wasn't as caught up by these what-ifs. To be quite honest, he was rather apathetic to you before his Canto. Oh? So your arrival came with worldview shattering realizations? Oh well, it is what it is.
Then came his Canto. Where he finally learned how to express his opinions on things. Where he finally figured that he didn't like you due to what you made him realize. Sure, you were kind, but you destroyed any semblance of existence he thought he had. But a part of him wasn't sure, so he kept thinking. Trying to formulate just what he thought of you.
And by the end of Canto 9, he came to the realization he actually liked you. Sure, the realization that his life was never real was not something enjoyable, but it wasn't your fault. You didn't mean any ill will by trying to play a game you enjoyed.
And on the contrary, you were quite a likeable person to hear. Made a good few humorous jokes, took serious moments as solemnly as you could, and served as more of a guide than Vergilius did. What was there not to like? Shame he's forbidden from speaking with you⊠he'd like to hear more about what you think on a wide array of random topics.
RyĆshĆ«, meanwhile, could genuinely care less. She already forgot pieces of her life, already had the trauma from the Nursefathers, already had suffered so much. What was one more thing on the pile? S.H.E.E.T. (She had expected everything, thickhead).
If she had her way, she'd S.Y.N.C. you. You quite honestly annoyed the hell out of her. She'd want you to S.T.F.U. constantly. But you wouldn't, and she couldn't, so she just had to begrudgingly deal with it. And all she could do to resist was make Faust withhold her IDs and EGOs from you in Extraction.
Then came her Canto and her change of heart. Maybe it came from forgetting Araya. Maybe it came from your warmth now truly directed at her. But she didn't want you to B.U.R.N. anymore (break up, run now). She didn't know why herself, but all she knows is sheâlike the othersâfell to your whims. Impressive, T.B.H.
Though her interest manifested in the worst forms. Notably, with how she wanted to turn you into A.R.T. (Absolutely relentless torture). Your body would be soft and malleable under her, a perfect canvas for whatever suffering she wanted to paint on you. She wanted to see you powerless, looking up at her in fear, and understand how she felt below you. And after, she wanted to nurse you back to health so it could start all over again.
She was one of the latest to fall, but the quickest to spiral into complete utter obsession. Almost ironic, in a sense.
And then there were the others on the bus.
Vergilius was perhaps the most affected by your presence. Unlike the Sinners, he would get no Canto. He would be given no opportunity to see those he remembered and move beyond his past. He wasn't even a playable character, merely a playable NPC who's join a fight or two now and again.
Yet, he tolerated you. Begrudgingly, of course, after all, you annoyed him as much as Don did, but he tolerated you nonetheless. You weren't something he could get rid of, not without fuss and the worry thatâwithout youâthey'd eventually cease to exist.
He watched the others fall to your apparent spell with faint disgust but hesitant acceptance. He could not control the others, just as you could not control him in battle. He also wasn't particularly inclined to tease anyone like Rodion or grow angry with them like Outisâwell, not that they had any right to make fun of anyone when they felt the same wayâŠ
He doesn't even realize when he falls. He doesn't even realize he did fall. There isn't even a specific point where he does fall. It takes a long time, yes, but it comes. And he only realizes when Charon comments on how happier he looks when he hears you finally log on and progress the story, or do a Mirror Dungeon run, or anything of the sort.
Charon herself isn't bothered by you. In all honestly, she always knew this was a game yet didn't care as long as she had Verg and Mephi. Though, now she has you too. You make Verg perk up slightly when you finally show up, and Mephi likes you⊠well, she guesses she likes you too then. Disappoints her you aren't here, but she copes better than the others do. Anyways, with the rate they're going, their work at getting out of the game to meet you will be finished in a little while. So, she, you, and Verg can all be a family soon enough.
She wonders who's going to wear the wedding dress in the marriage. Probably Verg.
ââ â â â
If they were only a little more patient, everything would've probably ended in their favor. But no.
The well of content had run dry. All current story? Completed. All current events? Completed. IDs? EGO? All you wanted that were out as gathered as you could get them (your newfound "luck" was instrumental to that), and leveled up and threadspun too. So, outside of dailies and MD, there wasn't much to stick around for.
And they started to panic. Sure, every few weeks new content would drop for you to play for, but you were appearing to lose interest. Not in the series, noâthey hear how you consume fan content (it isn't the same as spending time with them), but in the game. If you were gone, they'd beâŠ
They didn't want to know what would happen if you left. If you deleted them. If you suddenly stopped being there. They didn't want you to go. Even nights without you were almost unbearable now. What would happen if it became a week? A month? Forever?
So they came up with a plan. A very stupid, very rushed plan. They'd get access to the rest of your device.
It was hard enough to dig into the codeâtheir life bloodâto find the permissions. It was even harder to alter them, change what the game was allowed to access. Especially when they realized they needed you to tap the little button and approve them accessing these things.
But they were in too deep to give up now.
When you logged on, you were startled to see, "'Limbus Company' would like to access Camera," as a pop-up. But when you clicked, "Don't Allow," the pop-up came back. Every time you tried to deny it, it kept popping up.
Then the text read, "Just let us see you," and you nearly chucked your device through the nearest window. But curiosity overtook you, and you allowed it.
Then the next pop-ups came. Location, Contacts, Storage, Call Logs, Gallery, Memory, Personal Information, other appsâŠ
And when the Microphone came up, all the text next to it said, "We already hear you." You nearly went and uninstalled the game right there. By this point, you came to the realization your game was hacked and you made a horrible mistake, orâŠ
Then there was Dante's sprite standing in a blank, empty void.
<Sorry about thatâŠ> The textbox read, <We couldn't get access to what we needed to otherwise.>
And then they confirmed that, yes, they were aware of you. Always were (at least since you showed up). They wanted to finally reveal it to you, but you weren't given a reason. The text continued, growing faster over time, until you just shut off the game and buried the device in a drawer somewhere.
You checked it again the next morning, and found it open on your Notes app.
"Don't do that again. We can make you regret it."
And then came the slow, painful process of trying to change everything. Your email, phone number, important information like pins and passwords⊠all when the aggressors causing this came from inside the very device you now tried to get rid of.
It was a hard, delicate balance. Especially when the characters would lull or pressure you into opening the game, into chatting with their sprites and silent voice lines because they didn't know how to artificially create voiced lines for you to listen too. Especially when they inevitably noticed and did all they could to destroy your progress.
But it was too late. You were able to change it all, let everyone know you changed it all, and throw the device far, far away. You accepted you never could risk playing Limbus again, stuck solely to watching others enjoy this game. But it was for your own good.
But you should've known you weren't safe.
ââ â â â
Living alone came with benefits and losses.
The most notable loss, though, was there was no one to help protect you when they showed up.
It was late at night. Sun set, hour past ten, and you were relaxing alone in the safety of your general living space. There was something small playing on the TV, mindless background noise as you folded laundry. It was still warm in your hands, and smelled just like your favorite soap. A bit of mindless comfort that got your mind off things.
Your hands had finally stopped shaking now. The thought of your strange game was far in the past. Months have gone by, anyways, with nary an issue in sight. You had many plans going forward, especially for the upcoming weekend. But for now, all you focused on was laundry.
Then there was a knock at the door. At this hour? Naturally you checked, why wouldn't you? But the sight you were met with⊠How were they here?
"Open the door." Vergilius ordered simply. His voice speaking in a non-Korean language was⊠jarring. You heard ticking, probably from Dante, but you couldn't understand it. You just moved as far from the front door as you could.
"We know you heard us." Faust told you, "The lights in your home are activated, strongly indicating you are here."
You started to lose track of who was saying what when they spoke again.
"C'mon bud, let's just make this easy and open this doorâŠ"
"Attempting to resist is futile, Player!"
"Open this bloody door already! Before we just knock it down!"
"Mine dearest player, I implore thee to welcome us into your abode!!"
"Y.I.B.H.A.N."
"I- I agree-! Just⊠please let us in..!"
"What do you hope to get out of this? We know where you live."
"Aww~ Look at your home! I hope ya got enough room in there to fit all of us~"
"I understand if this intrusion startles you, but-"
"Is it really that hard to open a door? Perhaps they work differently here."
"The Manager has requested I-"
The sudden banging on your door made your head spin, and you realizedâin horrorâthey're trying to knock it down.
So you fumbled to unlock the thing and swung it open. Your chest heaved, and you stared at the fifteen people standing on your porch, illuminated by it's light and the glowing bulbs from the inside of your own home.
You couldn't muster up a word to say as Charon moved to the front of the small crowed.
"We're home now. Charon wants to go inside."
ââ â â â â â
Final Note: A tier list summarizing when each Sinner starts to simp (Featuring the Driver and Guide)
Sorry I didn't go super in detail to all of the yandere ass behaviors these dorks did. Mostly this was just a "what if" thingy. May make this a series if people request follows up. Good thing my requests are open!! lololol
A pair of arms reached out to you from behind; wrapping around you and pulling you back to a cold, metallic chest that youâve become familiar with over the past few weeks.
Maxing out with the Ring Nursefather Hong Lu turned out to be a mistake. He was far more affectionate than any other identity or ego you befriended so far, not to mention howâŠ
âMy dear,â he purred into your ear, dragging one of his fingers up your chest and stopping at your neck; uncaring of how deep his metallic finger dug into your skin or the small trail of blood it left behind. âYouâve been avoiding me.â
âŠpossessive he tended to be at times.
âItâs not like that,â you replied, hands fidgeting with each other as you tried to not move around so much lest his finger dug deeper into your skin. âI need to use different teams to get the most I can out of the mirror dungeon, so I just havenât been using bleed teams much which includes you.â
Your words were half truth, half lie. You did need to use different teams so youâd have extra starlight to strengthen your units for the more difficult floors, but you were also avoiding using a bleed team to the best of your capabilities. Even though you were fine with it at first, his overbearing nature got too much too quickly.
He wouldnât leave you alone, either. It wasnât bad at first â having a bodyguard and someone so powerful was nice â but that changed when he would overtake your Hong Lu so often that he could barely interact with you. Not to mention how heâd keep the other sinners away from you, too.
âIs that so?â he hummed, his voice oddly cheerful. You nodded.
He moved his hand away from your neck and waist towards your shoulders, turning your around to face him after.
âIn that case, Iâm sure you wonât mind going through the mirror dungeon with me this one time, hm? Unless you were lying about what you said.â
âŠShit.
âWell Iâ uh, I suppose it wouldnât hurt this one timeâŠâ
He chuckled. âThis one time?â He trailed his hand up your neck again, this time not stopping until he was squishing your cheeks together; claws stabbing lightly into your skin as a warning. âAre you merely tolerating my presence? Do you not want me around anymore?â
âThatâs notâ!â
âDonât touch them.â
A third hand grabbed the back of your collar and pulled you back until you were hidden behind someone else. Her warning came low yet firm, the three words she spoke being enough to convey her threat; that sheâd cut Hong Lu down without hesitation if he didnât listen.
âOh?â He took a step back and mockingly put his hands up. âI didnât know that the two of you were close.â
You werenât, not really.
âMy relationship with them is none of your business,â Ryoshu hissed, âNow leave if you know whatâs good for you.â
Hong Lu let out a laugh but surprisingly didnât protest and did as she demanded him to. Your Hong Lu didnât linger for long either, he muttered a small âsorryâ with an apologetic smile before leaving.
Ryoshu turned to look at you only when he was out of sight. Her glare softened when her eyes landed on you and she let out a sigh. âBring me with you.â
âWhere to?â
âTo the mirror dungeon,â she answered a bit impatiently. âIf youâre bringing that man with you, then bring me too.â
âOh, right, sure.â You could definitely use a bodyguard with you if the Ring Nursefather ever tried anything.
âGood.â
<- Back to the masterlists?
Hong Lu | Ryoshu
tag list: @rosaberrii, @yuri678, @wifeguyoutis, @existence-is-a-pain87, @successfulthinkgirl, @rainachain, @134340nine, @ao3master2000
A detective in his thirties that was asking you to play a game only teenagers liked playing⊠either he was planning something that didnât take your well being into account â as was the usual with him â or he was messing around and wanted to entertain himself by tormenting you specifically.
Knowing Hong Lu, it was probably both.
âYou know what? Sure, but on one condition.â
He perked up at that, eyes glimmering with intrigue. âOh?â
âI can pick truth as many times as I want and I can change my answer to be truth if I donât like your dare.â
âOh.â The look of sheer disappointment on his face was one that could feed you for decades to come, but much to your own disappointment, he was quick to mask it with a cheerful smile. âWhat are we waiting for then? Letâs go~â
He grabbed your waist and dragged you into a secluded alleyway before you could even protest, away from the crowd where someone could see what he was doing and stop him from bothering you for a second later. âNow, truth or dare?â
âTruth.â
âWhere were you last night?â
The smile on his lips disappeared just like that, leaving behind a blank stare that creeped you out. ââŠHome?â He wouldnât know if you lied to him, right?
âDonât lie to me. I checked and you werenât there.â
He checked?? âYou broke into my house???â
âWhere were you last night?â he repeated coldly, refusing to answer your question as he cornered you against the wall, placing a hand beside your head to cage you in.
âI⊠can I pick dare?â
His smile returned just like that, using his free hand to pull out the lollipop he was sucking on from his mouth and holding it to your lips while the fingers of his other hand dug against the wall. âI dare you to suck on my lollipop~â
âŠSeeing him switch expressions so fast sure was something.
You parted your lips, letting him push the head of the lollipop into your mouth. It tasted sweet, but feeling the saliva covering it was gross enough to cancel out whatever joy you mightâve gotten from the sweet treat.
âLook at you, youâre too cute~â he cooed, thumb briefly brushing against your lip before he pulled his hand away. âTruth or dare?â
âYou wouldnât ask the same question if I picked truth this time, would you?â you asked nervously. He merely smiled in response. Cool, he was going to ask you about it again. ââŠDare.â
âKiss me.â
Was this guy being seriousâŠ
âWith the lollipop?â
âYou can take it out if you want~â he giggled.
So if you understood right, Hong Lu was going to keep interrogating you about what you were doing if you picked truth but if you picked dare, he was going to use that as an excuse to be⊠touchy, to put it gently. Neither of those things sounded like a fun time to you but youâd let him have his fun as long as you could keep your lover a secret from him.
<- Back to the masterlist?
tag list:@rosaberrii, @yuri678, @existence-is-a-pain87, @successfulthinkgirl, @rainachain, @ao3master2000, @keiiqq, @dem1sedscholar
Butler! Reader who have a family bond with their master who's sick and wished to be a witch so as an unknowing they disguised as a witch to blend in and to get supplies so their master could experience what being a witch is.
Unexpectedly.. Digging a deeper hole for themselves as people started to get curious about their life *COUGH*
Could the butler keep up the facade or are the truth will eventually come out?
Stay tuned, I will write this after i finished my requests and drafts.
âĄ ïŒ wha men with a gn!xreader who has a love for baking
đ.đïŒI was craving cinnamon rolls then home made chocolate chip cookies which made me write this originally. I just want something sweetâŠalso something tells me Olruggio would like dubai chocolate? đ«
Qifrey loves whenever youâre in the kitchen baking something sweet. Theres nothing better than ending the day with a sweet treat made from your hands. After all, he always looked forward to it after eating a wholesome dinner.
If he were to be honest, he loves it when itâs a surprise since you always know how to pull off the most best desserts possible in his eyes. Sometimes heâd ask as he wraps his arms around your waist. Burying his head into the crook of your neck as he asks whats for dessert this time. Oh while you could only chuckle and respond to him that itâs a surprise.
And finally when you were done, you laid it out on the table. Giving a plentiful portion to him. You could tell he was eager to taste the sweet honey-filled savor in his mouth. Always complimenting you before, during, and after when heâs finished. Giving you a sugary kiss on the cheek or lips as you could taste it on your own afterwards.
Sometimes Qifrey would let the girls know that you made something sweet after dinner. Theyâll come running down like eager mice to get a bite as they watch it appear in their sight. On other days theyâll know just by the rich smell that would run up to their rooms. It was already an announcement that you were baking.
Afterwards if there were leftovers, it was always a fight to see who got the most, least, at least one, or none. It would never survive the following day since more than fifty percent would be gone by the end of the day. By the time you went into the kitchen to help Qifrey with dinner, you noticed cream filling on the corner of his mouth. Wiping it away with his thumb before surrendering as he got caught eating the last of what was left.
ââââ đđđđđđđđ
Now Easthies always admired that you had hobbies that he never could really partake in. After all, he was a knight and knowing EasthiesâŠletâs just say baking wasnât something heâd do in his free time. However, donât think just because he doesnât have many (no) hobbies himself that he wouldnât support you?
As many ingredients you need or want, he buy for you. Whenever it was flour, sugar, or even ingredients outside of the Great Hall. If he has free time to spare, heâll stop by to get you some. Soon coming home just in time to gift you what he brought back.
You never got it at first, but Easthies actually favors whenever you made cake with either raspberries or blueberries with light cream on top. You made it one night and suddenly it was almost gone the next day. You had to bake it a couple of times to catch on what he favored, but once you did, it was like hitting gold.
It would be a bit surprising to think that Easthies would look forward to eating something sweet every day when heâd come back from his duties of being a knight. Sitting down at the table and taking the last bite before grabbing for another portion while you could only giggle softly.
Easthies would always compliment you. If he was there when you were baking, heâd try not to be in your way as much, however, he may place a kiss behind your ear or stand behind you for a moment. Praising you for how well youâre doing and telling you if you need anything else to come tell him so he can go buy or deal with it.
ââââ đđđđđđđđ
Olruggio had a bit of a sweet tooth whenever you were baking. He always liked the smell of fresh baked bread or chocolate chip cookies. It lured him to where you were and sometimes he may surprise you with his bold voice cracking through the air.
If you lived away from Qifreyâs atelier where Olruggio was most of the time, you would stop by with baked goods. You had enough to share with Qifrey and his apprentices. However, you always looked for Olruggios reaction.
Olruggio would always recommend different type of desserts for you to bake. It could be something simple or something complex. If it was on the complex side, he would volunteer to help if you wanted his help some days if he was free. His favorite from you are homemade croissants. Theyâre crunchy and taste like absolute heaven that Olruggio cannot resist!
Olruggio always compliments you with your skills. If you were a skillful witch, that was even more better. He loves it when you have your own hobbies and interests instead of just being a plain witch.
Sometimes after heâs had his share and canât take another bite, he immediately goes to bed. Most times heâd actually want you to accompany him. Itâs sweet, loving, and a moment shared between you two as a couple.
ââââ đđđđđđ
Utowin always loved when he finds you baking in the kitchen. That sweet smell of fresh baked brownies forms him into a magnet towards you. His hands finding your waist as he surprises you with his attention.
Utowin has his favorites when you bake. Itâs the classic homemade chocolate chip cookies but itâs only when you make them. He only likes when you bake and how you make them. Theres just something about how you make and prepare them that he only wants it your way and nobody elseâs.
However, that doesnât stop him from bringing the extras to work when everything is a bit calmer. Not like it always is within the Knights of Moralis but who can resist a sweet treat? By the end of his shift, theres only crumbs left which tells him that your baking skills are the best of the best.
Always complimenting you when you bake something. It brings his mood up every time you decide to bake something either in the morning or evening. Either time is fine with him but as long as theres something there, heâs overjoyed.
Would definitely help you out in the kitchen. If he can, he can try and buy some ingredients when heâs out but he fears that he could mess up so he mainly leaves that for you to handle. However, heâs an amazing partner when baking anything. Itâs a bonding moment between the two of you which he takes very seriously even though you donât notice it at first.
@/SOVEREIGNTYANGEL à»ê± ïŒplease do not translate, copy, or modify my work
hiii i wonder if anyone has requested this or sumn similar but how abt a reader who has been very open abt her infatuation towards qifrey since when they were apprentices and qifrey has alw avoided her/ not returned the feelings/ enthusiasm/ kindness as much as shed like⊠maybe even a harsh rejection⊠then ff to adulthood where theyre certified witches now and reader works for the knights moralis⊠how would their dynamic be especially in the episode where they âcaptureâ coco (maybe thats them meeting again after years)
idk where im going w this but maybe an unrequited to requited trope and maybe squeeze in some easthies as a ârivalâ to qifrey
thank u đ«¶đŒ
Known Better
Qifrey x reader
Warnings: ANGSTTT, Qifrey needs to lock in, ep 7/8 spoilers, not edited, so much angst, lowk wrote this while partially under anesthesia...
a/n: gulp idk chat. anon I hope I did this justice I kinda put my own spin on it but hope you enjoy! Also sorry guys lowk disappeared for a sec, went on vaca and then got my wisdom teeth out but I'm back! Hope yall enjoy!
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
Against his better judgment, Qifrey found himself frozen. Easthiesâ hand moved dangerously close to Cocoâs face, ready to wipe her memoriesâ ready to wipe his only hope. Yet, all Qifrey could focus on was just how much you had changed.
You hovered, mere feet behind Easthies, staringâ not unkindlyâ at Coco. There was something so different yet so familiar about you. Your stature had changed. Your shoulders were rolled back, your Knights Moralis regalia worn proudly. Your hair was different, as was your expressions.Â
For the first time, Qifrey suddenly felt as though he couldnât read your emotionsâ not like he used to. Well, not quite. Your eyes hadnât changed. You always had that piercing stare.
Still, you werenât that bashful, bright-eyed fellow apprentice that used to follow him around the Great Hall anymore. No, you had grown. Grown wasnât even the right word. You had matured.
Qifrey almost lost himself in his thought before you reacted.
Qifrey didnât see it comingâ neither did Easthies, but you had gasped, eyes darting with alarmingly quick reflexes. You angled your Sylph shoes, flying back just as Richeh barreled head-first into Easthies, knocking his hand away from Cocoâs face.
In a brilliant flash of light, the ribbons binding Coco and Aggot in the sky singed away, sending his two apprentices in a free fall towards the hard ground.
Qifrey flinched into motion, feet already angling to propel him towards the pair before he caught a brief flash of pink hair followed by a large sandy cushion.
He breathed out a sight of relief, Tetia had learned well.
Easthies, rubbed at his wrist, out of soreness from Richehâs attack or annoyance, he did not know.
âWho are they?â
You cleared your throat, quickly regaining your composure as you flew back to his side, âChildren sir, they burned the pennants.â
Qifrey watched as your eyes narrowed to stare down Richeh who had begun to retort in sharp tones. The other three girls moved to position themselves at Richehâs side, their small faces set in hard determined lines. He watched Aggotâs hands slide into her coat, no doubt closing her fists around her components.
Qifrey had a complicated relationship with the Knights Moralis. He toed the line of what was allowed by the pact, and he was well aware of this. That was why he had tried his best to avoid them. That wasnât the only reason of course.
Qifrey angled his Sylph shoes, moving silently to round behind you and Easthiesâ group.
There was a matter of you. You had grown up together. You were friends, even. Until you werenât. Until you had stopped waiting up for him, stopped talking his ear off, stopped trying. It wasnât like he tried terribly to salvage whatever it was that he had lost, but still. Things like this required a degree of sensitivity or, in Qifreyâs case, complete avoidance.Â
â... as such, exceptions can not be allowed.â Easthiesâ baritone voice cut through Qifreyâs thoughts. Truthfully, he wasnât too fond of Easthies, but now, seeing him glowing with the force of his own righteousnessâ seeing you, standing tall at his side, filled him with a bitter feeling. It was simply wrong, Qifrey told himself.
You werenât supposed to be standing next to him, that's just not how Qifrey had imagined you would be. You were never supposed to ally yourself against him.
He was only angry because this whole situation was fundamentally wrong. Nothing more.
Yet, that didnât explain why he held the rain cleaver in such a punishing grip. If he held it any tighter it might just fracture under the strain of his unexplainable anger.
âSo very talkative Easthies, and so determined not to listen.â Qifrey caught the way his voice trailed off into a growl almost as quick as he noticed your jump of surprise. It filled him with an odd sense of relief to see he still had some effect on you.
Just as quick as your surprise came, it was gone, your gaze hardening and shoulders squaring defensively.
You drifted slightly closer to Easthies before Qifrey angled the blade, suspended in the air, closer, just short of Easthiesâ throat. He raised a trying brow in your direction as if urging you to try your luck.
Your lips pressed into a firm line.
âDo show my apprentices some respect, wonât you?â Qifrey finished, staring down at Easthies from the shaft of his blade.
âOf course, these girls are yours, and every bit as insolent as their master.â Easthies mused, almost bored as he turned to stare at you.
You donât look away from Qifrey.
âIf it means theyâre unlike you, I welcome their insolence.â Qifrey swears for a second he saw the corner of your lip quirk up before you smothered it flat, schooling your expression
He pulled the blade away from Easthies, âEspecially if this is how the knights Moralis operate.âÂ
Easthiesâ gaze follows his blade as he rolls his head, stretching his neck as if suddenly sore.
Not that Qifrey was watching him. He was watching as you bristled at the jab. Oddly enough, the sight didnât fill him with the satisfaction he thought it would. Or perhaps, he just wasn't used to you not jumping to agree with his every statement.
Easthies turned, pulling your attention away from Qifrey as he whispers to you in hushed tones. He laid a hand over yours holding your staff. His head dipped lower to better catch your eyes.
Qifrey felt his stomach twist in something he couldnât quite place. How strange it was to be on the outside, he thought.
âOi, you two!â Qifrey begrudgingly pulled his heated gaze away from the pair of you.
âHave you forgotten what a witchâs purpose is?â Olruggio gestured, towards the townspeople, sprawled against the empty river bed.
He watched you lean close to Easthies, your voice dropped too low to carry. Whatever you said, Easthies nodded once in response before gesturing to the others. The group dispersedâ each peeling off in different directions until only you remained floating feet from Qifrey.
Everything in Qifreyâs mind told him this was wrong. That you shouldnât be here, standing opposite him adorned in red. But then why did it look so right on you? Why did you look so good?
Qifrey shook his head. What was he saying? You looked good? He scoffed at himself, looking down as he resheathed the rain cleaver.Â
âShe broke the pactâ your apprentice."
Qifrey blinked, almost surprised that you had broken the silence first.
You stared at him, unblinking. He noticed the way you gripped your staff in a white-knuckled fist as if waiting for a reason to brandish it against him. Though, he couldn't really blame you by the way his hand was still held loosely around his blade.
But did you really think he could ever use it against you?
His grip slackened as his hand fell to his side. He caught the way your eyes darted down at the motion.
He didnât know if it was the accusation in your eyes or the way your body tensed in apprehension every time he moved, but he found his mouth moving quicker than his mind could keep up.
âThings were different between us once.â
He held his breath the moment the words left his lips.
You blinked. Once. Then something that wasn't quite a laugh left youâ short and disbelieving, like the sentence had caught you somewhere soft you thought you'd long since armored over. Something flickered across your face, there and gone before he could name it. Your grip on your staff tightened. Your gaze moved somewhere past his shoulder, jaw working slightly, as if deciding on something.
âWere they?â You questioned, voice teetering between professional and bitter.
Qifrey opened his mouth before you held your hand up, sharply.
âNo, Iâll tell you what you clearly missed. I was not subtle, Qifrey. I was never subtle. And you looked right through it for years until I finally had the good sense to stop looking back."
You shook your head, laughing incredulously, "You didn't reject me. I want to be clear about that. You never thought about me long enough to reject me. I just eventually stopped giving you the opportunity to."
You bring your hand up to rest against your forehead in a futile effort to ground yourself. You told yourself you wouldnât do this. You told yourself that seeing him wouldnât change anythingâ that you had grown. You have grown. You made a life for yourselfâ a life that you were proud to live.Â
Qifreyâs brows pulled together. He didn't move. Didn't reach for his blade, didn't adjust his stance. He just stopped. Then, after a beat he drifted forward, just barely, before catching himself. you noticed. He knew youâd notice.
He shut his eyes, cursing quietly under his breath.
You pursed your lips, nodding.
Of course he had nothing to say. He never had anything to say. Why did you always do this to yourselfâ
"I noticed when you stopped." A beat. "I just didn't understand what it meant until right now."
You felt your heart pound against your ribs, each thump getting louder and louder.
His eyes fluttered open and immediately found yours, as if that was the only place they belonged.Â
"I didn't know." He said it simply, which was somehow worse than if he'd been defensive about it. "I didn't know and that'sââ He shook his head, âI understand if that's worse."
You shut your eyes.
You had grown up with him.Â
"Qifrey." Not a question, not an answer. Just his name in a voice that sounded far too much like the person you used to be. âDonât do this to me again.â
Your voice came out softer than you intendedâ quieter, stripped of the professional distance you'd spent the whole conversation maintaining. You hated it immediately.Â
You steeled your expression, looking off somewhere past his shoulder, "Don't do this right now. I worked very hard to get here."
âI know.â He murmured. âYou have this job, you have him.â
You catch the way his voice lowered in annoyance at Easthies. You shut your eyes, sighing as your hand came up to pinch between your brows. Something left you that wasn't quite a laugh this time. It was something softer, more tired.
âIt was never him, Qifrey.â
You held your eyes closed for a beat, almost expectantly. You donât know what you were hoping for. A declaration, perhaps?
You scoff, bitterly at yourself. Your eyes fluttered open, angling your Sylph shoes away from him. Not quickly, just a small shift. Like your body had decided before your mind did. Perhaps it was better that way.
"Is it too late?" Something about his voice made you pause. It was the rush, you think. The desperation bordering on hopefulness. Like this was something he hadn't meticulously pre-planned. Like this was something he truly wanted. Like he already suspected the answer and was asking anyway.
Your gaze drifted down to where your team moved efficiently among the villagers- tending injuries, righting carts, doing what needed doing. It snagged, almost against your will, on the cluster of his apprentices huddled together at the edge of the riverbed. Something about the sight pulled at an old, familiar ache.
Against your better judgment, you didnât flinch at the feeling of his fingers brushing against yours as if reaching out to stop you but falling short, as always.
You shudder in a breath as your eyes fell shut again, breathing in deeply.
How long had you spent wanting this? Wanting him?
âPlease.â His voice had lowered to a whisper.
You exhale shakily, pulling your hand from his, though you donât leave him completely. You stay with your back turned, your face knit together in frustration.
There was so much you wanted to say to him. Everything that you thought you had made peace with was coming right back up to haunt you.Â
You felt his breathing brush faintly against your ear as he cautiously drifted closer to you.
As quickly as your bubble of privacy had appeared, it shattered, sending you flinching away from Qifrey as one of the younger knights flew toward you, breathless. "We've found more injured civilians."
You nodded automatically, flustered as you pushed the hair fallen onto your forehead back.
âRight.â
Your feet didn't move.
They should have.
Your first, and only, priority was your job. You had sworn to protect the pact. To be a good witch, no matter the cost.
You looked at Qifrey one last time.
So why couldn't you just do your job? What couldnât you just walk away?
Qifrey met your gaze, almost sadly, before flying down, meeting with his apprentices.
Your eyes follow him all the way down.Â
You had spent years learning how to walk away from him. Why was now any different?
You watched as the pink haired girl jumped into his arms, sending his solemn face into a fond smile. You couldnât help but mirror the expression.
There was a choice you had to make. One you thought you had made a long time ago. And yet, standing here staring at what the two of you had become, for the first time in years, you weren't sure which choice would make you a better witch.
You moved your gaze to where Easthies was waiving you down, nursing an injured unknowing.Â
If im too gentle everybody will let my voice get in and out of the other ear. If im too rough, everybody will be too rigid and even slightly rebellious.
Why am I supposed to do in this situation, nobody is listening to me, God forbid they think im short they could not listen to my obligations? If they so know it all, then don't forget. I reminded you like THRICE in a single hour.
