Oh Fuck It's Yet Another Version Of This God-Fucking-Forsaken Fic

emoreo

—

"Chastity, please, listen," Lust pleads, focusing on immobilizing and not attacking, "you're my rival, I care about you despite everything you've done, just repent and you'll be safe!"

"Repent?" Chastity repeats, eyes narrow, hands red; stained with blood; "Repenting is for sinners, and I am no sinner."

She activates another skill of hers, and Lust feels herself fading away.

Just as Lust fell to the ground, an ice shard pierces Chastity from the stomach to her spine.

"Fuck you," Envy spits out, the hatred in his voice too clear and loud. After all, she had been the one to kill Cowardice.

He glares at Chastity's helpless body as Fraudulent disables the rest of her skills, as if he wants to cut off her head and put it on his bedroom like a trophy, but eventually he leaves and finds his battle partner again.

Arbitrous welcomes him with a sadistic smirk and bloody hands.

While the war continues, all Lust does is watch her rival inch closer to death with every pint of blood and every percentage of her spirit gauge lost.

—

The battle is over. Cowardice lays on Envy's lap, lifeless and covered in blood. Witchcraft is heavily injured. All his "kids" had merged back with him.

Kindness and Patience tends to everyone's wounds. Mischievous, freed from Black Magic's nails, sits near Cowardice, sadly looking at her. As her friend and ally, it must've hurt to see Cowardice dead.

Despair is sitting alone, staring at the casualties and the injured. The rest are trying to clean up the battleground.

Except for one sin. Lust.

She's staring at her rival, beaten, bloody, and alone, sitting on the ground, limbs shaking, blonde hair matted with her own blood.

Chastity is staring down at the earth, seeing red stains everywhere, too ashamed to lift her head.

"Just leave her alone!" Diligence yells, the only one not as shaken as the others. Even Gluttony is barely able to form sentences. "She's not worth it, Lust!"

Lust ignores him.

"What is there to love about you?" Lust says, looking down at Chastity.

At her rival's words, the virtue dips her head even lower.

The pink-haired sin crouches down next to her rival.

"Nothing," says Lust. In her view, Chastity has nothing. She's got nothing sexually appealing. No makeup, no revealing clothes, and no empathy.

Chastity is heartless.

"You know," Lust says, in an overly casual manner, "you're making me think that what they told me about you was right."

If it was possible for one's head to dip lower than Hell, then Chastity just did it, her frame small and silent, not even a sob.

Lust extends a hand.

"It's your chance to prove that they're wrong."