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[nuumbie]

okay I know you’ve already got scar requests but regarding your oneshot of us choosing him on the FIRST date like omg…..,,,,,

I know for a FACT I’d be literally like OMG PHYSICAL AFFECTION whether I’m fighting it or not cuz like I’m having identity issues I can’t just juggle that at the same time as my touchstarvedness being slowly cured like 🤷‍♀️ I’ll take the Scar hug that probably when I’d straight up cling it was hard enough before to not just give in to the physical affection my ass is NOT trying anymore I am CLINGY and I am HERE

What do you think Scar would think of such a thing like holy shit not only did they choose me but PHYSICAL AFFECTION RECIPROCATED THIS IS SO MUCH MORE THAN I COULDVE ASKED FOR I AM NOT LETTING THEM GO 🫶🫶

Is it a questionable desicion of reader? Of course it is however they are touchstarved snd several other issues, and he is probably too so 🤷‍♀️ I think it’d be funny and cute to see them attached at the hip especially with our popularity

general consensus, reader is naturally clingy n fucking caved when he straight up hugged them like okay clingy mode on they already have identity issues may as well reciprocate affection that they’re melting very much at

If any of this is too long or confusing lemme know 🙏

It has been months oomph … I recently gained motivation and cleaned some old works ( they are still messy since my writing is verrry self indulgent for me )… but I am going to try to respond to things…. I’m so sorry for those waiting for the sequel to the scar fic … those poor souls I’ll write it but to tell the truth I have NOT been playing WUWA !!! Waiting for the scar banner ….. but I made a promise when I made a messily owned tumblr blog !!!

( changli has come out since i’ve written anything that’s how long it took as a reference for my poor readers … )

Please come out soon scar… please it will revive my motivation in the game …

I wrote reader / rover as cat-coded ( ie hissing and biting judging him )…. Cause I mostly based the fic off the canon idea of being born an amnesiac and there are all these people forcing me to do … side quests … and having a realistic reason to go ok you might have a point evil man… and also it being rlly funny with a straight man reader x his manic energy… but honestly the idea of them being into it because they are experiencing it for the first time / not hating it per se is very fun. If we’re thinking of a rover! s/o ( I think he would be kind of mean to other people which is a fun dynamic to be explored later esp non!resonator readers … )…

The idea of you slowly getting accustomed to just having scar holding you close daily after joining… with his hugs or him being absurd with his requests for him to lead you by the hands so you don’t get ‘lost’ or the time he touches and pokes you to make sure you’re ’still there!’… very much excuses for physical contact !!!

The horror as you realize that you nuzzled back into scar… you know you did because he’s staring at you with these big old 🥺 eyes like it’s the most amazing thing in the world every time … and also because he’s laughing sing-song-like about how he’s the favoooorite in front of phorlova so you for sure know because he remembers cause he mentions it ! every ! single ! time! ( because she cares a lot for you too, her special sound, but he cares faaar more ! he’s making a record in his mind to bring up every time she acts even a bit possessive that he’s faaar superior ! )

( if anyone else touches you like that he gets weirdly pouty about it and territorial and probably does that stupid thing where he touches you over it like he’s replacing it with his own touch. very childish because he doesn’t have a mature way of processing his own feelings despite being smarter than he seems... i feel like he’s just as starved and he’s very new to this closeness thing or caring about someone so much. it’s so important because it’s you who’s so special… lavishing him in this attention… and he wants to be special to you. he wants to have you to himself … )

I think he would love it very much. would very much feed you your doses of daily touch when he realizes you like it in return… gives much serotonin to his brain when he realizes you’re clingy in and like it.

Would be hell for a reader who dislikes physical ! touch because i think he would try to hold back but would catch himself slipping up a lot. It’s a very soothing /possessive thing for him i think? There’s something about … holding the thing you like! Touching it. Affirming it’s there and it’s real. If you’re in his arms you can’t disappear !

He would love to be that good friend who absolutely wants to be more that shows you all about physical intimacy! Yes, he will teach you all about how affection is shared ! ( he has never experienced this for himself and is just as touch starved if not worse than you so now both of your ideas will be warped )…. Goes to caress your face or just rub and squeeze it like he’s taking in your features or memorizing the shape of your face or squeezes you like a squish toy sometimes, wrapping his arms around you /lifting you and carrying you around places / very much into the idea of actually holding you all the time, i think he would probably copy the things he sees normal people do when he sneaks around towns or now that he has you to experience such things with… or just gives into intrusive thoughts he’s finally got a chance to !!!

Would very much just touch certain places if it was a curiosity thing ... if that makes sense… his fingers probably brush up against your resonator mark a lot almost lovingly, reverent, maybe, as he touches the skin there like it’s special. Imagine him pressing the skin of his face there and caressing it lovingly or something... I think if your fingers touched his neck where his mask is in return in a nice, pleasant, way or shared even a fraction of attention there he might die actually. Gets speechless! Imagine that breathy, excited gulp of air before he grabs you by the wrist gently and holds your hand there… ‘can you touch there again like that?’ with that somewhat manic look.

And you remember instead of a black lamb always following after your footsteps he is also much like a big stupid dog.

Much thoughts…. Hope this feeds, nonnie !!! I’m an even worse rambler ! Let’s try to get to requests soon……… it’s so much easier to ramble than write…. But I will help feed the populace of scar fans !!!

[nuumbie]

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak. He would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move. Until he had lost all vigor and passion to try.

That day would never come. Even now. He’s never lost focus from his dream.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky.

The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived. The same world that had taken everything from him was once his home. For every beauty, there was a sadness. He was still preserving its existence. Because. If he hadn’t there would be nothing left of him.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to. Only memories.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost while he watched helpless.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go. He holds onto it. The memory is similar. It brings him comfort and pain. That’s why it’s meaningful.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. To stare at him. To see him. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. So, it’s somewhat affirming to have someone stare at him. To see him. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light behind your eyes. Something that rivals the force of the sky. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble, crushed fingers grasping for things they’ll never reach. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s lost. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking.“You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed. He hasn’t seen his own face in a long time. At that time — it felt so simple. There wasn’t truly any deep, meaningful, reason to accept your request. He could have easily parted ways there. What difference would that have made on your journey?

But… perhaps he was lonely. For he had so far to walk. And he had nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes somewhat baffled by how quick of a response he shoots ought. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs while turning his back and already beginning to walk. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands. You make a point to showcase your discontent as you scrounge through your wallet. You don’t have very much money on you at all.

But you pay the fare so you both go on a journey.

People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

-

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you. You’re always walking ahead or too far behind.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. Simple but effective. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him. You’re rather enamored by your own face.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops rather quickly when it looks strange on his face. Unnatural.

Dainsleif is secretly glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but someone else looking back at you.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly while holding out your palm. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh… that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see. Are you curious? Then…”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world. So he indulges in you.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin in all its glory. And there is nothing in the world he can realistically get that he truly wants.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So he instead directs it towards you and drops it into the palms of your hand like it’s precious.

“You should do it, then.” His voice is impassive as usual. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Somewhat dumbly you take the coin in your shaky palms as he gives it to you. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long. The coin hits the water with a somewhat disappointing ‘thump’.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain. ( It will be gone when he comes back to reflect on the memories. A world which people resort to stealing wish money from wells. )

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

-

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living at the time with bright lights and fireworks in the sky. Momentous and bright.

The joy they experience is vibrant. Savory smells wafting through the hair. A memory which will be long-lived in each villager’s mind. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence alone together. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of the day the sky was bathed red. Do you see the same sky as him when you stare up at such flashing lights, too?

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud snapping pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of flashing lights. So he assumes you’d have the same line of thought. Somehow, Dainsleif’s eyes always find his way to you.

"We don't belong in this world." Are the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children who dance among the bright stars together. He notices a pair of children holding the other’s hand tightly.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful.

l. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks. Not once does a smile ever cross your face.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside your fingers brushing against the glass of the window against the painted sky and the people packing up. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children and all the adults goodbye wishing them happy lives. They’re kind and wish him and you both the very same.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. He will never be able to understand them.

Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with the two of you as well.

-

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop before you reach the grand island You plan on camping that night among the dangerous but beautiful land. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So he hadn’t stopped you from dipping your feet.

You reach your hands towards the bright sky and the stars above.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he had actually tried.

He doesn’t bother.

Dainsleif sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. Just bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. This place won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself. About this sibling he doesn’t know. About their interests and likes.

“Do you like it?” He asks gentler than he intends.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you and making a move for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you closely thinking little of it.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

-

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around but you keep walking forward. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant. A little ahead.

You glance up at him wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's rare that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddities. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your hands. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

-

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind. The current you is just as much of a puzzle.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track of how many days that have gone by. Some days blur.

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

It would explain why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place without ever stopping.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face as you lay at your camp. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. Too little distance but you don’t seem to mind how close he is. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later because those words are not happy. They’re sad. You should both be clean. But, there’s a certain joy to sharing your lows. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this conversation and feel nothing but regret about it later. He comforts you now and answers regardless because he would regret leaving you unanswered now even more.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Is it so hard to believe he cares after you’ve spent so long together? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh. A laugh which threatens on a sob.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder and hug him. He caresses you and lets you cry into his chest.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

It isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing. But you always pretend.

-

You both never kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one a deep sadness falls over you. So he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden by avoiding every chance he has.

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time. Some days he wonders if you’ve forgotten to speak at all.

The light behind your eyes is a distant memory.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers that he’s cooked. They’re burnt. He’s not very good of a cook.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know… I remembered and got curious… so I asked.l

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once. You’ve done the same to him.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan like he’s said something embarrassing.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout with crossed arms. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how. He doesn’t know if he should.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues letting his judgement not get the better of him.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you would just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like happy.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face. It feels like he’s gone as crimson as the moon.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in abject horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it. Understanding other people. He tries to emphasize and nods his head.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

-

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all then. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it. He allowed it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach and severed through. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally live and grieve until there was nothing left to lose. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him and leaving him to live with this loss. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed. And then you will most likely die against the weight of the heavenly principles.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown as deep as the abyss.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him and led to his fall. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly hold. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you he thinks with grasping hands.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

-

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

[nuumbie]

Trust Fall

Prompt: An elite member of the organization Fractsidius… Scar appears before you in order to explain his beliefs… so you may understand all you have to gain by joining forces and hands and to change the world with them all.

You’re weirdly open to the idea.

Author’s Note: Crack Territory. Surprisingly Wholesome? As wholesome as a Scar Fic can be. He’s a weirdo. This is the kindest fic I currently have. Technically, can be read platonic or romantic adjacent... ( He is flirting with you. You don’t exactly return it. ) Please send me Scar Fics. Otherwise I’ll need to make them all myself. Carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.

The face of the legendary resonator, his fellow black sheep, his fellow revolutionary in the new world if they had merely opened their heart enough to let them all inside. Well, you could have worn a more dynamic expression. You eyebrows are knit together, their mouth is curved into a frown. In all honesty? A little underwhelming of a reaction especially considering he's sent their little friend. ( A girl. You’re surrounded by girls! It's scary how every time he blinks it's like another one surrounds you. You're too popular! ) Where was he?

Oh, right.

He sent them to The Shadow Realm. Not like he actually hurt her! Well, he could have! To be honest a part of him wished to. Already planting ideas into your head. Getting you on their side. But he chose not to. First Impressions matter a lot. He even wore his nice pair of pants instead of the easy access ones he usually wears just for this moment. The others all gave him all this time so he even had a moment alone! With you. So of course it had to be special! Even though he was sure you'd share many moments. Just like this. "Well, well, well... we finally meet."

"You're... Scar, right?" It's such a coincidence she bought up his name! You don't know a thing. But everything falls into place so you're exactly where you need to be-- you truly are lucky. While Scar? Well, the fact you already know of his name means you know of all the foul, horrible, nicknames she's called him. An already dirty image in your head with his name attached. "Where did you put her?"

You have your hand on your sword. Pointed directly at his neck. He goes to tap it to the side. Away from his face. He already has plenty of stories for how he got all of these scars. Well, maybe he can get another. One specially made by you. Permanent proof of you.

Not bad at all. He casually goes to play with the sword in your hands, putting it back where you planned on threatening him and he leans just close enough so that if you wished you could drive it into his skull. Like a trust-fall! A trust-exercise between you both to see if you'd behave or try to crack him open like an egg. Smiling through the gap between you and the steel edge of your blade. "She's irrelevant. If she were here. She'd add a lot of meaningless dialogue. Right now I wish for your full, undivided, attention."

"Allow me to share with you my side of the story."

He raises his neck for your eyes. It isn't like he covers it up. But it's rare for him to brandish this mark so callously for others. It’s for you! It’s special for you. "I've been watching over you... to think you've forgotten everything."

"They're all fighting for you." He looks through his fingers-- undeniably you're you. Your confused expression gazes back at him. He winks at it. You squint your eyes even harder. He takes it as a win. ( He’s gained lots and lots of personal multiple little wins while watching you. ) "Wishing to use you and drain you of all of your worth. Despite being a human person, they've used you the moment they found you had an inch of worth. While we are no different..."

"We wished to be honest with you." He smiles as he steps closer. He notices how your hold on the blade tightens. You hold it still. It does not stutter or tremble. He leans in close enough that the outline of his neck is at the knife of the blade. "To allow you to understand us. We've been granted precious alone time. I'm here to show you we are not the villains...—“

He expected that if you did fight back. You'd hit him with your blade. Then he'd know to go to the next phase of the plan -- i.e. beat you up. Show you why they’re stronger. So the human, more basal part of you, would understand why not to resist and prove their worth through overtaking you. Offer to join the winning side.

It seems that's not what you're going to do.

"Let me stop you there." You step back and sheathe your blade. You've been exceptionally quiet. Mouth closed in a thin line. Eyebrows furrowed. Handsome. Beautiful. An odd mix of both words.. As he watched over you-- the most you said had to do with what that red-headed girl ( Chia? Chilichuck? What was her name? God. He basically ignored every word of theirs besides your dialogues.. your friends really did talk a lot.. The red-headed one with the gun especially annoyed him. ) And food. This is by all means a pleasant surprise. "Does everyone in this god-forsaken world speak in riddles?"

"Oh, but we have so much time! To explain it all would be no fun. It'd ruin the game." He widens his arms and shrugs his shoulders, showcasing the sight of the destruction behind him. "Besides, you wouldn't believe it if I told you. Would you? You have to come to conclusions on your own for them to matter. It's just me and you. No need to rush. Just trust the process."

You laugh at that for some reason. Scar clocks it. But, the fact you stop glaring seems like a good sign. Your smile is nice. So it does have the ability to be his way. Though, it appears you're laughing at him. He cherishes his victories however small and frames it on his mind-wall. "A town on the brink of destruction... if it wasn't us... how did it fall? A story of false devotion, fleeting kindness, senseless killings and the worst humanity has to offer... of course... there is only one truth. But history can take many different meanings dependent on the person. This is a world filled with oppressors and victims and..."

"That's not what I mean." Hm? Hmm? Hmmm...? "You're playing around. You wish to show me how sick this world is. You wish to understand how I'm being manipulated... that was your point from earlier... right? Stick with that. Are you trying to get me on your side or what? I'm tired of being dragged around."

Scar... has to take a moment... to process your words. Not really expecting... that. "Oh...? So you are listening! I’m glad! Well... inevitably. Yes, that is the point I wished to make. You and I are the same you see... both of us are outcasts... a story of a shepherd, it’s flock, and a black sheep—“ he does have a point to make, he thought really hard about the symbolism before coming here so it was easy to digest and everything.

"I'll join you." You hold out your hand towards his. "Scar, that's your name right? I'll join you right now. I'm not in the mood to play any more mind-games. If I join you. You don’t have reason to not tell me, right? You promised.”

Scar's world lights up.

He stares at your hand. It’s the one with your resonator mark no less— offered out to him. A sign of trust. An offer of companionship. You wiggle your fingers and ahem rather loudly. He immediately takes your hand with both of his own. Maybe a bit too frantically. Maybe a touch too desperately. The closeness is surprising to even him.

He studies your hand. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone’s offered their to his. And you did so unprompted. He feels the weight of your hand in his own. And he almost forgets what he’s here for—

"..." "Seriously?"

"Why are you acting surprised? Why did you even bother to meet me here if you weren't even open to the possibility of me joining you? Was it to sow the seeds? Slow-burn me? I'm not nearly as patient as you all seem to think I am." You cross your arms and huff. "Are you suddenly questioning whether or not I'm the resonator you're looking for? You're right. I don't remember anything. I'm not the hero anyone expects me to be. I'm not what you want from me either." “I want you to prove yourselves to me. You said you’re the ones in the right… that the others are just trying to use me.” You linger on those words. “If that’s true… well… you’re clearly suspicious, mentally deranged, to be honest I was tempted to hit you really bad just now... but... I don't exactly doubt your words. Every single person I've met has been..."

"Reliant on me." You gaze at the mark on the back of your wrist. "This is an equation of my worth. I can't disagree. No matter how hard I try to. That in itself is proof you have a point. So… it’s an avenue worth exploring.”

"..." "....." "Aha... ahahahaa... ahaaa... seriously?!" Scar doesn’t remember to use his indoor voice. He remembers after you jump a little. Doing his best to whisper. "Wait, no, that's bad. Oh, I'm so sorry... I was right... they... did use you as a pawn... and they made it so obvious… That you immediately..."

"You chose me." Scar is giddy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling even if he wanted to. Each word. He falls a little deeper. "You weren't even forced into a corner. I didn't even have to make you do it.”

“You’re already understanding of how alone we are in this world…!”

"You're not really different from them. You just admit to it." You sigh. "You're worse in a way. I'd doubt they'd force me to help them."

You're insulting him but he's still on cloud nine-- you're joining them aren’t you? Purposefully reaching in to touch the filth you apparently so despise! Ah, they're hardly ready! They'd thought this take much longer... it's true. He doubted you would believe him. Believe any of them. Maybe the villainous appearance and rumors of sociopathy, psychopathy, and all of that doesn't quite help.

Whoopsies. ( He isn't very sorry. You chose him regardless and you would have anyway because he knows at the end of the road you would’ve realized the hopelessness and that you had no choice and all. But you chose him over them and saw through their deceit. Him. Him. Him. He’s the one who got you to change your mind— ) He really can’t find it in himself to care about how menacing he seems. His smile’s just too hard to wipe off…

"I want to understand the world you're fighting for." You sigh. "You see yourself in me, right? You were projecting pretty hard on me earlier... So the world you're trying to make..."

"It's a world which is better for me. And... I can't help but to wonder if you're not wholly in the wrong." You rub your wrist. Like the mark of skin burns. "I want to see.. how worse it gets... I want to see what you've seen. I'm just opening myself for understanding. Isn't that what you wanted? An open, honest, discussion.”

"You do have purpose behind the evil, right? I'm not going to join and you make me blow up an orphanage or something… you're morally-grey bad at worst." You pause to consider. "I don't really have a point of reference for the terrible things you've done actually. Maybe we can put this on hold until I get one-"

"No, no, no! Noooo orphanages! We're not monsters." Scar pouts. "You'll see, okay? I’m going to show you all the horrors! Then you’ll get it. We’re ultimately in the right.”

“You knocked out Yangyang.” You sigh. Detached. But the sentiment behind the words is there.

"So they did get you to care." Scar hums. "Shed your worries. Such useless feelings do little good... she'll be fine... see? We are willing to reason! This whole talk was to prove we can communicate. She wouldn’t listen to me. She wouldn’t even look at me. She’d keep us apart and spread her little lies.”

Okay, maybe he’s a bit jealous. Why was she so exceptionally close to you? He doesn’t even mind the gossip. Everyone talks to him like that. Looks at him in that way without ever understanding.

He’s the one who should have been offering free dinners, doing small little romanticisms, giving you small yearning gestures with you, not her. And he will from this point onward! And he will be the one to do it. Even if he has to pry you from the others…

( Seriously, why are you so popular? It just isn’t fair! He’s going to be fighting for crumbs when he brings you back to the base. He just can’t win. )

“If I shed all my worries then won’t I just be the same as any other sheep? It’s the wool that makes them look different.” You sigh while rubbing your arm. “What even is that metaphor about…?”

“Oh. I did use that metaphor, didn’t I? Yes, with fur so black! It was obvious against the rest of the flock… for black sheep are the outsiders! Those who go against the grain—“ Scar responds dumbly. Rambling, because he really is so happy! He's got you right where he wants you! You're not struggling, nor running away, you've walked right into his arms! And he didn’t plan this far at all. So, his mind’s a bit fumbled. This is the best first date likely in the history of ever. Though, he notices your unimpressed look. Thus, he straightens his back and smiles as gentlemanly he can muster pounding his fist against his own chest considering you’ve made it a point that you hate long-talk. “— anyway, yes, shepherd evil, white sheep stupid, black sheep good.“

He looks at you to see how well you’ve taken his shortened explanation. You use your other hand to facepalm. ( He hasn’t let go of your arm. He realizes. You haven’t pulled your arm back. This sparks joy. This sparks incredible joy. He holds it even tighter. And you don’t even struggle. )

“I should have done the puzzle first. Lacking lots of subtext.” Is what you put together from his explanation. “Just explain on the way. Come on. I’ll lose brain cells if I’m here for any longer.”

Right.

He’s taking you home. You’re still not gone. You’re here with him.

You’re with him.

"Ahaha.” he rambles, graining traction as his grin grows more manic, he can feel his skin getting hotter, the urge to hold you tightly within his hands and explain growing stronger with each passing moment, every second, every millisecond. It’s a feeling you wish to feel forever. “You want to listen to me.”

And he will feel it forever. He’ll make it so. He doesn’t have to wait any longer.

"There’s so much to tell you. About this world.” he cackles, loudly, his voice crackling throughout the air with a reinvigorated passion as he leans close to your ear to whisper with as much love as his dried up little heart has. Putting it all for you. “And I’ll tell you about all of it.”

"Okay. I seriously don’t know how the hell you expected me to trust you." You whisper. Tired? Yes. Terribly so. You so hope Yangyang can't hear him. From wherever he's put her. Shadow Realm or whatever. "You’re making me regret this already—“

"NO!" he rushes forward and leap-hugs you. "Noooo take-backs. You already said it! So you can’t take it back. That’s how it works. When you say it. It’s forever.”

“That’s not how it works-“

"You're all mine, forever.”

"Agh-- hey!" You yelp... a touch high-pitched. He squeezes you tightly and you see the flash of smoke-- Yangyang's passed out body on the ground. You shut your eyes, awkwardly looking away. You’ll know she’ll be saved soon. “I’m coming. I’m coming, okay?”

Perhaps you're even better than his wildest dreams. Well, he'd love you as much regardless. Whether or not you came now or later. This is a drastic changes of plans. But a pleasant one.

His cards fly through the air and they capture you both-- you hold onto him. His laugher resonating loudly, a wicked sound which is proof of the choice you’ve made. A choice you’ve made which you certainly can’t entirely turn back from no matter how hard you try to reverse you’re being taken along.

More like dragged. He’s holding your hand like you’ll run if you don’t. ( He’s not exactly wrong. ) You just awkwardly hold back. Unaware you don’t even need to be touching him to get warp-jumped.

He doesn’t exactly tell you either or warn you or do anything to stop you. Instead encouraging it by opening his arms out so you can hold on properly.

As you’re flashed away through a red door… the person you’ve decided to trust manically laughing as you phase through that door. “There’s so much… to tell you! Well let’s start at the very beginning…!”

No matter where you are you’re susceptible to lore dumps. At least he’s excited about it. You wonder how long he’s been holding this in.

You close your eyes tight and just hold on tight as you embrace your new life.

Again.

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that. There’s something in him that still lives.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has left of his old self. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings or creatures that change themselves so drastically. Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt and those that follow it is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. You act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his discontentment because it keeps him on his toes. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language… your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks? If it was anyone else. They’d have torn you asunder.”

“Aeons of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “Is it for me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something something kike an insult. You just know it’s bad because he says it in a way that’s so vitriolic it almost hurts. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is. With how things are going? You’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter till it threatens to break between his metal appendages.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk with his hand on your throat.

The floor hits you. Hard.

Or maybe you hit the floor.

Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death? Innocent have died in uglier ways.

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest and juts against your lungs— “make up your mind you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here… will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots are more precise. Everything about him is human. The way he’s so sentimental, emotional at your lap, while you can do nothing but watch. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist. So people like me get that just-dessert.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never do it with my own hands.” You smile remembering where you work. Your boss. The things you never had the confidence or strength to do yourself. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back.

You already know.

Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you is a look of disgust.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor like he’s snuffing a cigarette out. so lowly. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself…!”

He doesn’t even look back at you. You wish he did.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

And your life will continue as always.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you. You hope Oswaldo doesn’t notice. He’s the tricker.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you. You’d use the word save. But, that’s what he was meant to do.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

[nuumbie]

DRAMATIC IRONY

Prompt: You witness a memory bubble at Sir Edward’s. A product of a dream belonging to the trailblaze. Unlike the last Dream Bubble isn’t very much fun at all.

Author’s Notes: Less of Akivili!Reader x Aha. More like Reader reads a self-insert of Ahavili Fanfiction. Romantic-Undertones. A character study based on my perception of both characters based on what little crumbs Star Rail has given us. Hope you enjoy.

You had gotten a text from Sir Edward… apparently you are moving up in the ranks! You are a prized enough customer to get told when they’re having a sale on memories… obviously to maximize your achievements and to fully grasp all of the expierence! This was a must to go and see.

It’s a little exciting to witness the dreams of a long dead Aeon in order to understand them your fingers grasp the bubble. It’s warm as you hold it delicately within your fingertips. A precious memory that belongs to the Astral Express. It’s a little giddying of a thought to understand the crew better. To know of the paths your predecessors had laid out for you… and to understand the Aeon Akivili a little better considering how much of your life revolves in their footsteps…

You note in the back of your mind to tell Himeko… maybe Danheng and March? Perhaps, even Mr Yang would be curious! You can’t help but to imagine their reactions. Pompom’s especially! They seemed a little curious with the last memory bubble you bought… perhaps these souvenirs could serve as precious to the conductor? Such thoughts motivate you forward to press on! “So this is it…”

“You’re excited aren’t you?” Edward’s pupils widen at you. “This was recommended by a certain party. I’m not sure how they got their hands on the memory. I haven’t looked at it myself. You’ll have to tell me how much fun you’re having.”

You pause catching his words. “Eh… you didn’t check? Isn’t that apart of your job?”

“That it is, that it is… this isn’t mine to look at however. The person who left it with me said it was a gift for you and said ‘not to ruin the surprise no matter what’. It’s your choice whether you look at it in the end.”

Oh, that makes you less-wanting to open it up to peek inside. What if they downloaded something scary on it? What if it isn’t a memory of the Astral Express at all but a bunch of jumpscares or even worse… a Rickroll? The memory that once pleasantly reminded you of jelly now hangs like slime between your fingers… “Was… it a girl with pigtails? And a fox-mask…? Kind of short?” You even your hand around where she usually stands when compared to you regardless of your own height.

“Ah, how elaborate of a description!” Edward cheers. “No, it was this blue-haired man—“

You immediately feel all joy you felt suck out of you in instants. A world record pace.

Technically, it still could be Sparkle. That doesn’t narrow it down at all now that you really think about it. You suddenly don’t really want to do this. Because it’s either Sparkle or him… a gift from any of those two hasn’t really ended well for you in the past the more you think about it. Actually, all it’s gotten you is bucket loads of trauma and pains in the butt. But…

“…”

“Will I get stellar jades if I do this?”

Edward blinks a couple of times in confusion. “Ah, they did leave some around here somewhere in there now that you mention it… you’d have to stick your hand inside to get it.”

You immediately stick your hand within the dream bubble and grab hold of it and you don’t look back. Such is the will of the trailblaze.

-

Akivilli’s form is unknown to you yet you can feel the wet grass on your tush as the memories rush into your brain and take hold of your consciousness.

Things you know about Akivilli, perhaps bipedal? Ah, with how things are. They could possibly be a walking trash can on legs and you wouldn’t even know the difference. You try to focus through the haze of the memories.

The words are not your own. But the voice that leaves your throat is yours without any doubt in your head. A shame that you couldn’t choose for another to read it to you again… or at least have the option of it.

You find yourself laughing. Your voice calling back at you despite not knowing the words until you hear them. It’s a bit unnerving, but you soon sit back, relax, and then the dream plays out as your vision returns.

It’s a starry night sky. A view you’ve grown accustomed to. It hasn’t lost its luster yet and you fear the day that the sight of the stars no longer excites you. You reach your hand out towards the stars, tracing the constellations. Although, you can’t see your hands. You can somehow feel its warmth. It goes from your hand to your chest, leaving you warm and fuzzy inside like you drank a bunch of hot cocoa. You can’t stifle the giggle that escapes your throat. It’s you but it isn’t. It’s a strange, disembodying feeling. You should be used to it by now, but you can’t say you are any closer to coping with it than you were before.

“I think I’m really happy.” An emotion that’s not yours, a feeling that doesn’t belong to you, the bubbly, overwhelming feeling of happiness. One that you don’t understand overwhelms you. “Right now. I wonder. Is this what humans call peace? I wish this feeling could last forever.”

But it can’t. It’s a sad and happy thought. The fact you’ll go to experience many more joys and sorrows. That you’ve yet to feel even more highs and lows. For the reason for living is to go through the good and the bad.

“Ah, Akivili, Akivili—“ perhaps, you should have expected it. considering who gave you the dream bubble, but you’re still surprised. a shapeless miasma, surrounded by masks, your sight is blurry when you gaze directly at the figure. without a head THEIR arms wiggling as they hold a multitude of faces, masks, they circle between them on a dime. the mask that looks back at you in THEIR iconic smile. THEY laugh. “The real star is right here. Before your eyes. A touch away! Yet, you yearn for something so far away? How silly, how cruel, to call the night sky beautiful when I’m right here!”

A resounding sound of a million hands snapping. Louder than a gunshot.

“Pay attention to me instead.”

THEY snap their fingers.

The star you were tracing bursts into bright, colorful confetti.

A deep sadness consumes you. The constellation has lost a piece of itself. Millions of years into nothing but scraps of paper floating through outer space. “Agh— AHA.” what a hard name to yell. you weep for the fallen star with your whole chest so it knows it was loved “… you guys never change. I liked that star too.”

“Oh, but we do.” THEY tilt the mask, facing upside down. The smile is curved into a frown. “Nothing lasts forever, Akivili, my Akivili. I’m sure at the end of the universe that IX will swallow all of us down and eat us up. We will change inevitably. Ena turned into Xipe’s late night snack. This moment will go away. That is why I wish for you to admire Aha’s radiance instead! You can disappear. I would spend my eternity thinking about the time you preferred a star over me.”

You feel a deep sadness that isn’t yours. You crush it in your palms and hold it in your hands.

“Don’t get jealous. I do prefer you.” THEY giggle. you don’t turn to face THEM despite that. Glancing out towards the night sky. Bright stars hang across the planet. a planet so small and insignifant in the face of such a big universe. but that’s why it’s so important. your fingers line the stars in the sky into a million different shapes, you can taste the thrill of adventure, the loving unknown. the future and the heat of it on your tongue. a million light years away. “I like that you’re here next to me. I like that you’re with me. This sight is only so enjoyable because I have someone to love it so throughly with.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t though.” you grab where your heart would be. but as an aeon, do you even have one of those? nobody’s ever dissected an aeon before. perhaps they’re made out of rock candy, gears, oils, and a dash of love. because you don’t know. it’s as possible as any other possibility. “Can’t you at least try to hold a little empathy? That star had a long time left. And even if it didn’t— stars usually last a long time after they die. But now it’s just gone. The sky is missing a piece of itself. What will people look at when they place their eyes on that particular patch of sky?”

“Ewww!” THEIR voice transforms. the sound of a child, a mimicked sound and replica of a hundred crying children. THEIR face morphs into disgust. the haughty laugh is accompanied by a loud boo you’d hear from a game show. you have to stifle a laugh as they whine. “You’re killing me, killing me. Ah, dearest, loveliest, Akivili— are you trying to shackle me?”

“My detested, beloathed Aha.” you laugh loudly and try to match THEIR joy. though, a part of you lingers on the fallen star, the fallen aeon, and you resolve to live and hold onto this feeling even tighter until it sears a hole in you that’ll last forever even when you’re gone. “If only I could.”

You don’t know what love is. But you capture it in bits and pieces. You feel it ringing in every piece of you and it calls out to you when you look out at the express crew, whenever you glance up at the night sky you promised to explore, whenever the astral express warp-jumps and even you feel a little dizzy with the sensation of truly being alive.

And you feel it, too. Even for things you shouldn’t. To the things that feel like sand that flows through your fingers. To the things that will move on without you. Because worlds spin, the galaxy changes, every time you close your eyes for as much as you gain there is always something to lose.

Aha doesn’t have a face. THEIR fingertip press against your face, however, pressing your lips into a smile, you think despite being the embodiment of joy they can not smile without a head. “Ahaha.”

“Didn’t you say you could die without regret?” THEY reach out for your hand with their other arms. they move your body, while you stand there uselessly, positioning you like they were inviting you to dance. but they don’t move. neither do you. “You’ve got plenty of regrets itching at your lips, Akivili. So many words left unsaid. You should say them. You have so much power, you have the ability to reach the heavens, to reach for the stars you like so very much. But you always refuse to take.”

“It was a metaphor.” you mutter back. though, it sounds more sad than you intend. Aha notices. they ruffle your hair giggling at your sorry attempts. You don’t resist as much as you should.

“A trailblazer isn’t meant to stay in one place, Akivili. Isn’t that your path? You should tread it properly.” THEY make a buzzer-sound effect. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“You’re so strange.” THEY laugh harder and harder. their hands reach for their stomach to hold it. like THEY would fall over if they hadn’t. “Except, not strange at all! You’re strange because you’re an Aeon— but you’re so lamefully, painfully, mundane from your pinky finger to your toes. You’re a walking, talking, contradiction. To be honest, it’s lame, so dreadfully, drearily, lame.”

“Akivili, Akivili.” THEY smile and they sing a song, out of tune, manical. “I love that part of you, though, you who’s is one-and-only across all the world trees…”

You don’t understand THEM at all. But they just insulted you. You stare at THEM dumbfounded, with crossed arms, but the mask smiles back will a look filled with endearment.

“You know.” You pout as your fingers— does Akivili even have hands? But, you can feel something reaching, weakly lifting, trying to cling to them and hold onto something that touches back. “I want you to stay. The Astral Express. You could join me. We accept everyone. You could be a nameless, too. On the express, everyone is the same.”

“Everyone’s accepted me.” Your heart sings at the thought. “They’d accept you, too. That’s what I want.”

“I know.” Aha‘s smile is strange. “I wanted to hear you say it anyway! Akivili wants me. Akivili wants me. They really said it! I should sing it to so everyone in the galaxy can hear. I wonder if they’d create a holiday over it? So everyone can memorize the date you poured yourself out to me!”

“Don’t.” You pout knowing where this is going. It’d only serve as a reminder. “You’re too cruel, sometimes.”

“I’m the nicest to you.” AHA smiles. “Isn’t that so funny? I care about you. I’d miss you. That’s such a funny thought to me! I can’t help but to laugh.”

You flashback to a time where they wondered out-loud how you’d react if THEY blew up the express. You remember silence before THEY laughed it off and said it was something for the back-burner.

Nice is subjective.

“Would you join me, though? Would you leave your express for me?” Aha giggles. “Would you watch the stars burn with me. All the way from the theater seat? Would you come with me, instead? We could do other things. Everything. I could show you things you’d never get to see on your train if you’d let me.”

“I wouldn’t.” you repeat before you can even think about the words leaving your mouth. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“I know, too. See? You can live up to your namesake.” THEY tap your nose. “It’s written in you. It’s interwoven in you. You shouldn’t forget your beginnings despite all the time that goes by.”

“It’s your meaning.” THEY cackle. “No matter how hard you try, so better to embrace the upcoming tragedy.”

“I know.” Aha hugs you, deeply. “It’s okay. Akivili, my Akivili. Don’t cry! I’ll always take time out of my day to see you! You’re the most exciting show which always gets me to smile the most! I’ll always be watching over you. Maybe, one day. If you miss Aha so much. THEY would like to see you personally from first-ticket seats every now and again on your little missions, too.”

“We could never give each other our forever.” THEY squeeze hard enough for it to hurt, hands wrapping around you, possessively. but, you know better than that. you know they’ll let you go. maybe, you wish they would try a little harder to stay. “My Akivili. I’ll give you all of my now. Because I really do enjoy this! And maybe I’ll give you my later, and even more of a latter after that, and even more. Even if that seems sad. It’s not. We can’t give ourselves everything to each other.”

“But I’ll give more to you than I’ve ever given anyone else.”

“After all, I’m one of the few things that won’t go away, won’t I?” a deep sadness spills in your gut threatening to pour out. “You’re the same. Some things get boring with time. But you grow more wonderful with time. I fall a little deeper in love with you each time I see you!” ❤️

“I love you, Akivili, my Akivili.”

You ignore the burning sensation in your stomach. This grief is another feeling to cherish. A grief for something that hasn’t happened yet. Aha calls you THEIRS. But, you know deep down—

THEY would never be YOURS.

“I think I love you, too.”

Your hold is so tight it burns. You hold onto this. Knowing the moment you open your eyes it will all disappear. But that’s okay. You repeat to yourself. Because this moment is so good. And it’ll happen again. Even if it won’t last.

It’s so good because it won’t last, that means you have to make it. You try to tell yourself that. Repeating the words like a prayer. It really is funny. You’re an Aeon who begs.

“You sweet-talker!!!” THEY laugh. “You should tell me more of this Express! Aha is curious, Aha is curious! Ahaahaa… maybe I’ll take some time out of my schedule and go and visit! Would that make you happy?”

“Don’t play with my feelings like that after so throughly rejecting me.” You deadpan back, but you can’t help but to stifle the sound of your own laughter, however sad. “The express really does welcome everyone. Even if it’s only for awhile.”

And you’re right.

Like everything.

This fades away, too.

-

You wake up standing up. The dream bubble in your hand oozes through your fingers. Leaking onto the floor. Edward’s voice brings you from your stupor.

“Oh, it’s not meant to do that. Forgive me. I don’t think you’ll be able to view this memory for a second time. I wonder if I could recover it…”

So you won’t be able to bring it to the express. You wonder if you would’ve. Knowing what you saw.

It felt more personal— too personal to share. Can you bring yourself to say anything to Edward? Not really. You just shake your head. It’s okay. It’s really better this way.

Looking into your hands now sticky with the hopes and dreams of a long-dead Aeon, you find a measly 75 jades. It’s coated in the sliminess of the dream bubble.

It’s barely enough for half a pull.

[nuumbie]

Any Pronouns. 19. Call Me Numbie. Or Not.

THE CUNNING HARES ARE OPEN FOR BUSINESS!

Inbox: Open.

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WORKING ON: Scar Sequel… !!! | Jing Yuan Fic :) | Resonator!Reader x Scar | Something something Zenless…

A writing blog where I write whatever I want for the fandoms I like. Mostly Honkai Star Rail but you may see works from other fandoms. Genshin and maybe Wuwa… and Zenless Zone Zero when it finally comes out as it currently stands. Which I’m hyper-fixating on… an SFW blog. Do not expect the best words you’ve ever heard or Grade-A material at all. I write purely for joy and am by no means pursuing this professionally so please handle me with care.

Expect long hiatuses and uptake time. I get very easily drained.

Do not copy, repost, or do anything with my work. I do not give my consent.

OTHER IMPORTANT THINGS TO REMEMBER...

- RULES

- REMEMBER YOUR DAILY CLICK …!!!!

- MORE TO BE ADDED LATER . . . ? DUM DUM DUM. . .

( If you’re one of the few people who read this before I changed it no I didn’t shut up !!! )

[nuumbie]

A LITTLE BIT TRICKY.

✖️ this is a purely sfw blog.

✖️ will write: anything, really. though to be honest i’m bisexual with a heavy lean for men but i will absolutely write for women too. ignore the disparity if i don’t get requests for it though... both cute, rainbow, sunshine stories and your and my heart’s worst desires… except i don’t really have much of those. but i’m trying to see my limits for writing. well for everything and anything except… dot dot dot. clear signal to go on and look down below and continue to read.

✖️will not write: underaged characters in romantic situations. i will make it platonic. this includes characters like hook the great, pela, lynx, yanqing, etc etc you catch my drift !

works will be gender-neutral unless the ask literally needs a male/female for it to be able to work …

otherwise let’s wait see. i’m mostly writing for me. if i don’t like it. you’ll know. i’ll message you and reject the request and add it to my rules and we’ll all know for next time. easy peasy lemon squeezies.