primofate

[primofate]

One, Two, Three Braincells [Minors Do Not Interact] Ororon x Ifa x Fem!Reader Smut

Note: So........ I don't usually write smut as you all know. I rarely do, but there are instances where I do kind of want to practice the craft. This is one of them. I was very intrigued by the idea of threesomes in the Genshin world. There are just so many potential pairs to make a group of three. Ayato and Thoma? Cyno and Tighnari? Alhaitham and Kaveh? And listen to this: Harbinger Tartaglia and Harbinger Scaramouche. I was actually more into challenging myself on how I can characterize even when there were three people involved in the relationship. I wanted to experiment on how I can write in order not to focus on two individuals only, but three, without drowning out the other two too much. Anyway... here it is.

Warnings: No actual sex, just mentions of it. Other Genshin females are sexualized. smut with a plot kind of. threesome. lots of breast play. childhood friendships turned sexual. humorous in some parts. first timers. lots of exploring. you cum easily I guess. I AM planning on writing the rest of it later on but only if I feel like it. Please don't ask where Cacucu went. May not strictly follow Genshin lore.

Pairing: Ororon x Ifa x Fem!Reader

Summary: People always thought that Ifa and Ororon were a strange pair. In reality, they complemented each other's absurdity pretty well. Enter you, the third person in their group and their childhood best friend. You've grown up together, surely there was nothing wrong with learning about your bodies together too?

“Have you ever wondered what they felt like?” Ororon muttered under his breath. He stood next to Ifa who had a plate of Tatacos piled on high.

“What what feels like?” Ifa said in between chews, loud music and splashes almost drowning him out.

The People of Springs loved their parties and celebrations. It just so happened that Mualani invited everyone she knew to this one. Ifa and Ororon stood a bit ways off from everybody else. Far enough so that no one else would hear them but close enough to see the girls—Mualani, Varesa, You and a bunch of others—in their swimwear.

“You know, those,” Ororon was quite vague. Ifa furrowed his brows at his friend and grunted out a response.

“What those?”

“Those! What d’you call them… Squishy watermelons,”

Ifa choked on a piece of meat, he hacked, he coughed, and coughed once more. He started beating on his chest. Ororon glanced at him and landed a hard and resounding smack on the doctor’s back, that was the only time Ifa could breathe and talk properly again.

“You guys okay?” You called for them while relaxing in the hot springs, noticing the small commotion.

Ifa waved his hand frantically, “Yeah! Yeah, all fine,” he laughed nervously, then glared at Ororon who looked as if he hadn’t said anything wrong.

“Keep it down you idiot,” Ifa hissed, Cacucu piped up next to him “What’re you on about bro?” to which Ifa ignored and continued “I call them squishy for a reason! Because they are! Now stop thinking about it,”

“Are they though?” Ororon tilted his head in wonder, hand going up to his chin as if contemplating the world’s philosophy. “If they really are squishy, why do they hold up so well? They’re bouncy, but they also look really firm…”

Ifa could not believe his ears. Ororon was seriously thinking about this and once this guy had something on his mind, sometimes he just wouldn’t stop getting to an answer.

“Reminds me of those Flamegranates I grew last year. Kinda bouncy, kinda wobbly but also really sturdy!” Ororon has a proud smile on his face, he had just discovered the best analogy. Boobs is to Flamegranates. “Whose is your favourite?”

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking? Youre asking me whose… Flamegranates are my favourite?!”

“Yeah?”

Ifa’s jaw slacked. Just when he thought he knew Ororon well enough not to get dumbfounded by his ideads, but here they were. “I’m not answering that—”

“Y/N’s right?”

Ifa’s lips pressed into a thin line, Cacucu flies around Ifa’s head “Y/N! Y/N!”

You thought you hear your name being called, but amidst the music, the chatter and the splashing water, you quickly dismiss the thought.

“No need to be shy about it, I like hers too!”

And that, took them here.

Sitting on your couch, eating snacks in comfortable silence.

The three of you frequently hung out at your home.

When you were kids up until you were teenagers, it was also always the three of you scaling small mountains, running after saurian friends, picking the carrots and radishes that Ororon grew.

For the longest time the three you of stuck together like peas in a pod.

There’d been an incident when you were younger where another village boy made you cry and broke your favourite necklace. That necklace had been given to you by Ororon and Ifa, their tiny little hands made it out of golden Dracolites and royal blue Sprayfeather Gills.

You were gutted when it all fell into pieces on the ground.

Hours later the two guys would find you upset outside of your childhood home, still crying over the necklace.

“I’m sorry Ifa! I’m sorry Ororon!”

They didn’t think the apology was warranted.

A week later you had a new necklace made from the same materials hanging around your neck. And that boy who made you cry? Whenever you saw him he would strangely turn around and go back the other way, like he was avoiding you. You never really found out what made him so scared of interacting with you again.

Ifa took a deep breath in, “Hey Y/N…” he started, voice almost trembling. Ororon looked quite relaxed for what they were about to say, probably feeling nonchalant because it wasn’t him who had to do the asking.

“Hm…?” You turn your head towards him after taking a bite of the grainfruit wrap in your hand, the leaf of it sagging downwards.

“I-I-I,” Ifa stutters then changes his mind, “I mean WE, not just me,” his hand frantically waves to Ororon and himself, as if to emphasize that this was a collective decision. “We were wondering…” His eyes clearly trail down to your chest. By no means were you well-endowed, but Ifa thought that you were just the perfect middle between Mualani and Varesa. Not too big, not too flat, still looking plump and perky and… “Y-You know, we don’t have those,”

You blink at him, still chewing the piece of grainfruit in your mouth, voice muffled. “Jon’t haf wha?”

“You know… Those,” Ifa pointedly stares at your chest, then back to your eyes.

You’re still confused and Ororon sees this. He decides to step in and points a finger at one of your boobs, clearly gazing at it. “He means those, Y/N,”

“Ororon!!!” Ifa bellows, turning towards him as if he was crazy. And yet, Ororon looked like he was just having an every day normal conversation.

“…Yeah? Duh.” You exclaim as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, taking the last bite of grainfruit into your mouth. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m female and you’re male, dumbasses,”

You were actually a lot more forgiving than Ifa thought you would be, maybe he should let Ororon do the talking. “Yeah, so, we just wanted to know how it... feels,”

Ifa yet again tensed up at Ororon’s straightforward way of conversation. Seriously, either he was really stupid or really honest with a straight face.

“Huh? Whadd’you mean? Like…” you tilt your head sideways, “…like you wanna touch it?”

Ifa steps up, putting an arm out to stop Ororon from talking first, “See, cause we can’t ask anyone else…” he feels heat creep up on his cheeks now, but it was probably not noticeable with his complexion. “…and Ororon and I’ve been talking about how we really wanna… just once and for all, stop thinking about how they feel like and finally just find out for ourselves!”

These idiots, you think to yourself.

These bumbling fools.

What were you supposed to say to your two childhood friends?

You sit there, looking at their faces. Ororon was still relaxed. Ifa was beside himself and looked like he was about to run out but he actually continued talking. “A-And, it’s not like we can ask anyone else, you—you’re the closest thing we have to a girlfriend so…” you see his face change from hesitant, to embarrassed, then to disbelief. “Okay, you know what, forget we said anything. We just—”

“Alright,” you say after swallowing the last piece of grainfruit in your mouth.

There’s a deep silence that follows.

“Excuse me?” Ifa asks again, but Ororon was already up and situating himself on the other side of you so that Ifa was on your left and he was on your right.

“She said yes, Ifa,” Ororon said, “…Do you need to get your ears checked?”

Ifa snaps out of it and looks at you with his mouth agape. You agreed. Just like that. This outcome was probably something that he could only imagine in his dreams. He wanted to pinch himself, but Archons, if he was just dreaming, he didn’t want to wake up just yet. "S-So..."

You threw the grainfruit wrap on the table in front of you, leaned back on the sofa and got comfy. “Go on, before I change my mind. I’m timing you guys, just one minute and no more,” You averted your gaze away from the two of them, looking away to where your eyes just lands on one of the lamps on the side-table. If you looked closely, there was the slightest tint of pink shading your cheeks.

“!!!” You jump a little at Ororon’s touch. His hand was first, cupping your still clothed right breast. He had taken his gloves off and was really trying to get used to the shape of it. He genuinely looked as if he was studying a piece of artefact.

“Hmm…” he hummed, liking the feel and how plump it was in his hand. He suddenly squeezes from under your breast, making it squish up like a water balloon.

“O-Ororon!” You warn him, half squirming half trying to bury yourself further into your couch.

It seems like he didn’t hear you.

Ifa watches this intently, he could definitely feel himself hardening and he curses under his breath at the display. He takes his gloves off too, and starts to work on your left.

The two of them fondle, grasp, pinch and squeeze at you all in different places. You try to keep your breathing steady but fail miserably. Throughout the living room all one could hear was your beathing getting huskier and huskier. They were touching you through your clothes. What more if you were bare and naked in front of them?

The one minute mark had definitely passed and yet they continued. You make no move to stop them, trapped in a dilemma of wanting to be touched more versus your morals of ‘doing things right’.

Your desire won over.

“D-Do you wanna look at them?” You mumble, peering up at both of their shocked faces. They stop in unison, glance at each other, then back at you.

“…Do you want us to look at them?” Ifa asked, cautious.

Your face heats up more at the blatant question. “I-I mean, you’ve never seen one before, right?” like it was some kind of rare animal.

They both shook their heads. They’ve never been intimate with anyone else other than their own selves.  

You stay silent as you peel your shirt away up and above your head, leaving you in your undergarments. Ororon’s mouth opens in awe at the bouncy flesh bursting forth, and his breath gets stuck in his throat as you undo your breast support garments, leaving two beautiful, fleshy fruits with nubs staring at his face.

Well, beautiful to Ororon, at least. To you, they were embarassingly unsymmetrical and small.

“Holy shit,” You hear Ifa whisper under his breath. If he wasn’t hard before, he definitely was now. He looked carefully at how your breasts held themselves up, and how the nipples were hard and pointed. He looked intently as you breathed in and out, your breasts going up and down.

Just from the sight of that, Ifa thought he was going to cream his pants, but he swallowed the lump in his throat hard and steeled himself to be stronger.

Ororon did not hold back on his intrusive thoughts. His head goes right up to your right breast and his mouth opens to latch on to your nipple, giving it a gentle experimental suck.

“WAIT—” you squeal, eyes gluing shut at the sudden sensation, “I’m not—” ready you wanted to say, but Ifa had followed suit, jealous that Ororon always had the first pick.

Your soft whimpers and cries fill the room, head pressed back hard on the sofa as the two suck and tongue at your nipple. A heat was beginning in your belly and gradually spreading through your body. This feeling was familiar, but like them, you had only explored by yourself and never with anyone else.

“Ifa—Ororon…” Your hands shoot up to grasp at each of their shoulders. They don’t dislatch, engrossed in the feeling of your hard nipple in their tongues, in fact your grip on them seems to send them further into their now ignited desire.

“Mmm…” Ororon mumbles, sending vibrations through your chest. His tongue is surprisingly gentler, you could tell he was mostly in this for his own experimental needs. His tongue swabs at your nipple up and down, then changes to a side to side motion, like a kitten drinking water.

Ifa, on the other hand, oh Ifa.

You didn’t think he had it in him to be the rougher type. He was always so considerate of you and of others that the hard sucking motion he was giving your nipple didn’t seem like him at all. He was hungry, and he was hungry for more. His tongue pressed harder on your nipple than Ororon’s did. When he licked, he licked with all his might, tongue dragging on your nipple all the way up then back down again.

Your legs suddenly clamped together, the heat was pulsing through you now, pleasure throbbing at your very core just from your best friends sucking your tits. “G-Guys—” You moan. A sound that yet again doesn’t stop them and instead spurs them on.

“I-I’m…” they press their faces into your tits more, giving it all their attention. Each swipe of their tongue sends jolts of bliss that start to gather in your nether regions. “I can’t—” You whine, unable to speak in proper sentences.

The vulgar sucking sounds fill your ears, your senses start to go haywire, your legs still pressed shut together as if trying to stop the sensation. “It’s coming—I’m cumming! I’m—Fuuuuuck!” You whisper out in a half wail half sigh.

Ororon suddenly biting on your nipple sends you tumbling over the edge. Your moan resounds through the room, they continue their ministrations as you squeal through the high of your orgasm, stiffening with a stilted moan and then coming down from it panting like a dog, legs now relaxed and the two guys—now unlatched—watching you intently through your climax.

You could not believe that was all it took.

Doing it by yourself was so different from doing it with others. You try to catch your breath, half glaring at your best friends “H-Happy now?”

They look at each other, no words were spoken, but they looked away all bashful. With your bottom half still clothed, you push yourself up from the couch leaving them looking up at you as you stand. Your face was still heavily flushed, breasts glistening and forehead sticky with sweat, but what you did next surprised the two of them.

You knelt down in front of the sofa, hands on your lap and glared up at them. You see their pants seem tighter than before and they look incredibly uncomfortable in their pent up, sitting positions.

“…I’ve never seen yours before too, nor anyone else’s…” You mumble, fidgeting with your fingers. “It’s only fair that I have my turn to see yours now!” you argue like a child.

Ifa shudders in excitement. Was this really happening? Sure they were pretty bold to ask you if you could let them touch your boobs in the first place, but he didn’t think it was actually going to lead to…this.

He took a shaky breath in, wondering how far the three of you were going to push this.

Ororon, surprisingly, refuses. “I think we’re done for the day,”

“What?!” both you and Ifa bellow at the same time. He couldn’t possibly be refusing this.

“I mean, I really want to, but I haven’t watered the radishes today and—”

“Oh shut up,” you cut him off, pushing him down onto the sofa and undoing his pants. Ifa, yet again, groans at the thought that Ororon gets to go first.

He swore to himself that if it ever came to it, he would fuck you first, Ororon would have to line up.

TBC...

[primofate]

HII! HOW ARE UUUU? I FORGOT ABT U LOWKEY BUT IM SO HAPPY TO SEE U AGAINNNN!!@11!11

Hello!! So happy to see people stop by :)

I'm not really back, just found some spare time to write something for Varka hehe :) I will probably disappear for another 5 months hahahaha.

Still, lovely to see some familiar usernames!

[primofate]

Wait, is Varka Klee's dad 🤣🤣🤣

Edit to add:

I mean look at The Tripartite Conference... it almost looks like Venti is officiating the marriage...

[primofate]

Varka x The anxious team coordinator who needs to watch over everyone (Part 2 - Final)

Warning: excuse mistakes please, angst

BIG WARNING: It ends on a cliffhanger and although I have ideas for this story, I don't have time to write it. BUT I am open to discuss it with everyone and what you think should happen or will happen next. Share your brainrot and pain! Perhaps you can write the continuation!

Other parts of this story: (Part 1)

Never in a hundred years would Adalbert see himself in this position.

They had been at the border of Natlan, on the edge of leaving the city behind and going into the next. A step closer to Nod-Krai.

As the second in command, Adalbert always took the rear of the expedition. Grand Master Varka took the front.

Imagine his surprise when his ears picked up galloping towards him. He squints to see who is approaching, it's from the front line and it only adds to his confusion when he sees it's none other than the Grand Master himself.

"Grand Master?" Adalbert starts, watching Varka maneuver his horse around to fall in step with his.

"Adalbert," the blond haired captain starts, pulling on the reigns to slow his horse. "You know the path to Nod-Krai, right?"

Adalbert looks closely at his leader's face, meeting the gaze of urgency. "I do..." Adalbert trails off, knowing that this conversation was going to go somewhere outrageous.

"Good," Varka praises with a grin, then quickly follows up with a command. "I need you to lead the front, choose someone else to hold the back,"

It was probably Adalbert's surprised face that signalled Varka to keep explaining, "I need to go back and look for Y/N,"

Varka wasn't all that good at hidden agendas, so he didn't find the need to conceal it.

Adalbert's brows furrow, "Sir...Natlan is a big place..."

It wasn't that Adalbert disliked the idea of looking for you. Every single soldier in the expedition was valuable and that included you. But knowing how organized, how careful, how on-the-dot you were, Adalbert couldn't help but think that you were not in the living realm with them anymore.

There was no way that you wouldn't get yourself back to camp on time, unless you were beyond the grave.

He tried to talk sense into the Grand Master, but in all honesty, if Y/N couldn't do it, then no one else could.

"Teyvat is a big place too, and look at us traversing it for nearly a year!" The grin slapped on Varka's face didn't fade. Adalbert's lips pursed into a thin line.

"Listen," Varka started again. "I'll catch up in 2 days, with or without Y/N," he paused to think of the specifics. "In 2 days, you should be setting up camp at the valleys of Tequemecan. Wait for me there,"

"...and if you don't come?"

"I will," the finality in Varka's voice was the deciding factor. Without another word he left Adalbert in charge and only with a promise of returning back.

"Missing, you say?" Mavuika's fingers brushed her chin, deep in thought.

Varka's first stop was none other than the Pyro Archon herself. Unlike last time where it had ended with a drinking contest, Varka wasted no time in telling Mavuika that he was one person down. In detail, he described how you looked. How you might have had a few knights with you that night and how you might have been looking for him.

"Oh!" It instantly clicked in Mavuika's mind. "I think I know who you mean..." She had, after all, handed you the key to Varka's room. "Unfortunately I've yet to receive any reports about injured outsiders nor missing ones... Except..."

Mavuika's eyes trail over to the grand, flickering fire in the middle of the room "The Masters of the Night Wind has yet to give me a report. Perhaps it's a good time to visit and check on them after the attack. Care to join me? You might find who you're looking for,"

Varka had no explanation as to why he didn't do this in the first place. Surely the Pyro Archon would know where you are or at least have some sort of clue. But in his silent panic, he admittedly hadn't been thinking straight.

People always thought that panic and fear was easily seen on a person's face. However, to those who were used to putting up a brave front, used to leading a whole country, those emotions are easily masked, just bubbling in silence.

Varka thought it was like drowning.

People always thought that drowning was loud. Splashing, screaming, cries for help. In reality, once the water pulls you in, it's silent. You struggle, you kick, you fight it, you try to swim up, but the water silences you even if your lungs scream for air and even if your chest burns.

All you might see are tiny ripples and bubbles on the surface.

That's how he was feeling right now.

Where could you be?

Following Mavuika's Flamestrider while he was on horseback was probably the only thing that kept him mildly occupied and distracted. It was harder than he thought to keep up and he had a feeling that Mavuika was exponentially slowing down for his sake.

One could tell that they were entering vicinity of the Masters of The Night Wind when Iktomisaurs start showing up. That, and the murals were cooler shades of blue and purple as opposed to the vibrant and warm oranges and reds.

Mavuika slowed to a stop. She pulled the helmet off of her head and swung her leg around to dismount her ride. Varka followed suit, marching right up behind Mavuika.

They come to what seemed to be the headquarters of the city. Mavuika exchanges a few words with the guards and the pair of them are led to another room.

The door opens into what seems to be a quaint resting area. Mavuika instantly recognizes the backs of Ororon and Citlali. Ororon is standing next to a bed, Citlali closer by the door.

Citlali turned to meet Mavuika's eyes, she knew the archon was coming. "I was just about to go and give you our report..." Mavuika could tell by Citlali's expression that there was something going on. She rarely hesitated and rarely bit her tongue.

"Go on..." the Pyro Archon urged.

Varka was all ears as well, hoping for something good. However, as his eyes flickered around the room, past the young man clad in what he could only describe as a bat-like hooded cape--Varka's eyes suddenly meet yours.

"Y/N!" Varka pushes past Mavuika and Citlali, almost brushing against the latter's shoulder, striding in quick and long steps towards the bed you were sitting on.

Citlali turns around to try and stop him, "Hey, wait, they're not--!"

At your position from the bed, sitting up and watching the group of three talking, then one of them suddenly and urgently rushes towards you. You can't help but look up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

Varka ignores the presence of Ororon and checks you over. Bandages around your head, another on your cheek and who knows how much more under the clothes you wear. Varka's struck with a deep-set regret, but he breathes out a sigh of relief.

"Had me worried for a second there," He gives you a sheepish smile and if you look closely, relief has washed over his face, but it only lasts for the fastest second. "I wouldn't know what to do if I went back without you. Everyone'd kill me and they would have to look for a new Grand Master,"

The room is silent.

No one speaks.

Not Mavuika. Not Citlali. Not Ororon.

Not you.

"Though I guess that wouldn't be all that bad, getting to retire," He chuckles, unaware of the dead air in the room.

You bite your lip as he talks. You look up at him with a concerned gaze. "...I'm... sorry,"

Varka only smiles at you, knowing that you were unnecessarily apologetic at times. He's about to tell you it's all fine. It's all good. Everything's in place and he hadn't lost you.

However, your words are faster than his. Your eyes definitely looking straight at him as you utter the words that finally pull him deep down into the depths of the water.

"Who are you...?"

and with three simple words, Varka struggles.

He kicks, he fights, he tries to swim up. Your words echoed over and over again.

Even when his chest burned and his heart ached.

The water silences him.

[primofate]

Wait, is Varka Klee's dad 🤣🤣🤣

Edit to add:

I mean look at The Tripartite Conference... it almost looks like Venti is officiating the marriage...

[primofate]

hi! i've been a follower for a while now, and seeing you publish the ruthless prince physically made me consider publishing one of my fanfics into a physical copy. i was wondering what the process was and if it costed you anything, because i feel like having a physical copy would be really cool!

love your works btw, please keep up the good work and take care of yourself!

Hello! Been a hot minute since I was here. Using this post to update as well: I posted a Varka fic! The trailer was just so beautiful so I had a bit of brainrot.

As for publishing The Ruthless Prince, here's what you have to remember (and what some others has repeatedly told me:)

it's not legal to publish fanfiction specially if the characters or the game/movie or whatever it is, is heavily copyrighted. Mihoyo, however, is gracious enough to allow creators freedom over their characters. Fanfiction, fanart and the like are encouraged (really it's free marketing for them isn't it)

It did not cost me anything to self-publish with Amazon, BUT they get a percentage of your earning (because they print it for you and ship it for you)

Pay attention to this part: you will probably earn more selling an ebook, but a paperback is a really nice option to have.

Why? Printing cost.

Let's say I sell my paperback for $10. Amazon takes $4 and I can get $6 BUT I still need to pay for printing cost so I might just end up earning a measly $3. However, on an ebook, you don't have printing costs! You can earn the full $6. Just something to think about.

All the process was done by me. Editing, commisioning an artist to make a cover for the book, editing again, trial printing it for free and checking if everything is in the margins. Editing is really the difficult part. And then I upload it on Amazon KDP. Set the prices, and then viola! Your book is ready to be sold. You really just need your whole manuscript and a whole lot of patience to sit and read through it again.

Good luck on your endeavors!

[primofate]

Varka x The anxious team coordinator who needs to watch over everyone (Part 1?)

Warning: Haven't written in a long time. Be gentle. Might have mistakes. mention of alcohol. I really had no direction for this, I just kept on writing and it just naturally became angst as usual. HAHA

This story is inspired by: "In Mavuika's official announcement post on Genshin Impact's social media, Varka mentioned having a drinking contest with her and wanting to discuss something with the Pyro Archon that he had forgotten. This event possibly happened during Varka's ongoing expedition." taken from game8 website

Clipboard. Check.

Handy pen. Check.

Hand on hip. Check.

Exasperated look on your face and a half-glare towards the Grand Master. Check.

"Y/N, it'll be fine. Quick chat and I'll be back in camp,"

Varka had a very convincing grin. Claymore strapped on his back, flashing you a thumbs up, if you didn't know better you would have sent him off happily.

But no, you knew him far too well.

"Grand Master, might I remind you that this has been the 3rd detour ever since we came to Natlan," Your stern expression remains, brows furrowed, fist clenching your clipboard tightly.

The paper attached to it was strewn with notes. Messy numbers and little details. How many troops were injured in the last journey. How much food the team had left. How many more days till they run out of water. How much medical supplies you had to buy on the next stop. How much budget was left.

Varka chuckled, patting your back lightly--though it nearly tipped you off your feet-- "Surely seeking out the Pyro Archon is part of our plans, Y/N. It'd be beneficial to our cause,"

He wasn't asking. He was going to go anyway despite what you said.

Sometimes you wonder why you were even assigned to this job. To so called "look after" him and the team.

It didn't seem like you were doing such a good job of it.

You drop your arms to your side, shoulders deflating in defeat, irking your lips sideway for a second before relenting. "Alright..."

Off he went into the Stadium of The Sacred Flame. In contrast to the colourful walls of Natlan, Varka actually seemed muted. Like just another soldier on his travels. It was hard to tell that he had been on an expedition for nearly half a year now.

You head back to camp, telling yourself that checking the inventory would probably be a good use of time.

You weren't sure what time it'd been when you were woken up by the sounds of your name. As per usual you'd fallen asleep on a wooden chair in the storage tents, trying to count the boxes of rations the team still had.

"Hm?" You answer, rubbing your eyes as the calls for your name become louder. "I'm here," you shout a little louder.

Three knights brush aside the tent door, one of them ducking in, looking worried. "Hey, Y/N, I know this doesn't sound urgent, but Amery isn't looking too good,"

You hold back a sigh and straighten up in your chair.

The expedition team was a large, large, group of knights. But in the Knights of Favonius, every soldier was important. If you could save them, then you fight to do so. If, however, there was no saving nor chance of surviving...

"Then in that case, we need to keep moving... Remember, our choices matter, and we have to choose wisely,"

Varka's words ring in your ears.

You stand from the chair and ask the soldiers of his whereabouts. "Has the Grand Master come back?"

You start to put on your coat and start strapping your sword on while listening to the knights' answers. No. He wasn't back yet.

You weren't surprised.

"...Then could I have a group of five escort me back to the city? I'll check on Amery and see what medicine she might need," then, under your breath you add "...and maybe bring that stubborn Grand Master back...Fabled Knight of Boreas my ass..."

The three knights didn't give any indication as to whether or not they heard you, but from the sheepish smiles they give and the way they rub the back of their heads, they probably did.

The walk to the city wasn't too long, but it was by no means short. Once at the medical shops you bought the potions and herbal medicines for Amery and a little bit of extra for everybody else. She looked as if she was coming down with a viral illness, cough and hoarse voice and the like. Quite the common thing to see, not too serious. But she did look too tired to even speak.

"Alright, before we go, I suppose we should go and get Master Varka," you tell the group of five assigned with you. Just as you turn to ask around, a woman with a presence so strong appeared before you.

You had no idea who she was, but one look and you could tell that she was someone important.

Red hair... Just like flames...

"Are you part of the Knights of Favonius, by any chance?" The woman had a pleasant smile on her face. She seemed friendly despite her strong presence.

"...Yes," was the only answer you could muster under her gaze.

The red head chuckled heartily for some reason and handed you a key. You blinked at it, unwilling to take anything from strangers. Even if they were drop dead gorgeous.

"I've given Varka a room at the inn for the night. Let's just say... He lost the contest," she flashed you an apologetic smile, you absentmindedly receive the key. She says something about being welcome to come again and walks off elegantly.

All six of you couldn't help but watch as she walked away. You had to pry your eyes off of her bright hair to look down at the key, turning it in your hands.

"...Hm," you think out loud, turning to your group. "I suppose everybody else can go first, the supplies we just bought are quite heavy after all. Make sure to put it in the proper storage and update the inventory, got it? I'll be back soon,"

with our leader, hopefully.

You tried not to roll your eyes. The knights followed your instructions while you ambled towards the inn.

The staff were quite helpful. Even at this time of night the tavern inn was quite lively. Natlan was quite the vibrant city. Mondstadt was... well, pretty tame.

But you liked that.

You liked ordinary. You liked predictable. You liked to know that you were going to wake up and see the fountain of Mondstadt from your window. Liked to know that Timaeus would greet you on your way to headquarters. Liked to know that Amber or Lisa would come looking for you during lunch time.

Here?

You never knew what would happen next. It wasn't so much Natlan's fault. It was the whole expedition. Being on the move everyday. Worrying if you had counted supplies wrong or if you'd made the wrong decision or if you were staying too long in one place or--

You stopped yourself as you came face to face with the room door. "Grand Master?" you knocked on the door, called his name another time, then a third one.

You sighed under your breath and pushed the key into the hole. "Well here goes nothing..." it clicked into place and the door opened. Revealing a fully clothed and armoured Grand Master strewn on the floor instead of the very comfortable looking bed in the middle of the room. You were also hit with the scent of alcohol.

"Really?" you mumbled, as if scared to wake him. "No, really?" You were starting to talk to yourself merely out of frustration. You closed the door behind you and squatted next to your intoxicated leader. "You can't be serious," you continued to whisper.

"Varka," you sternly said, louder this time.

Rarely did you use his name, so you meant business. Unfortunately that wasn't good enough.

He wasn't waking.

Silence filled the room as you stopped talking.

You might as well admire him from this angle.

You crossed your arms over your knees, eyes relaxing and just tracing his features. You wouldn't say he was handsome. Handsome was... more of a Diluc thing--you wrinkle your nose at suddenly remembering him, perhaps the red headed lady jogged your memory--Varka? Varka had sort of a rugged charm. There were visible scars on him, but those added to his charisma. He had a face that commanded respect, sometimes even fear, but he was actually quite a cheerful guy.

You weren't sure why you were staring at him. Perhaps you knew this was your only chance to quietly admire this view. One of your hands twitched, trying to resist the temptation of brushing his hair back.

You take a long breath in, and exhale it out slowly while standing up. You pull the blankets off the bed, and roughly drape it on him. Then you rummage around your little pouch strapped on your side, looking for a specific pill.

"Here we go..." you take it out, still in its white, envelope-like packaging. You take out a writing instrument. 'Be back by lunch!' with an angry face, drawn on the medicine packaging.

You crouch down to pry open one of Varka's hands and shove the packaged pill into it, then forcefully closed his fist around it again. It still went limp, but at least there was an attempt. "That'll help with the headache you're sure to have tomorrow," you talk as if he's awake.

You take one last look at him and turn to leave.

The night had descended further. The wind was a little stronger, your hair waving with it. It's dark as you walk back to camp, but there were a few torches on the way there, lighting your path and easing your mind.

You stop for a second when you think you hear something in the wind. Like a howl. You stop breathing just to try and listen again, but it was gone, so you continue on.

Nothing of that sort really scared or troubled you. You were still a Knight of Favonius after all. You were more worried if those knights you sent back did the inventory correctly.

There's a sudden harsh wind that makes your hair flop everywhere and stills you in your tracks. The torches are blown off, one by one, and it's suddenly so much darker.

This wasn't a normal wind.

Your hand instinctively raises towards the hilt of your sword.

It's as if there's a distortion in the air, and a purple like orb suddenly materializes out of indigo smoke. It crackles with ominous energy and you recognize it all too well.

Abyss!

Monsters start to pool out from what seems like a purple portal. A group of riftwolves and saurians that were too corrupted by abyssal power. The group of them immediately lock on to you and you're instantly embroiled in the battle. They were not necessarily tough opponents, but the real trouble was that they just kept on coming back.

Is it some kind of portal?

Your eyes dart toward the purple orb, more monsters were filing out from it, like a factory.

"Tsk," you click your tongue, recognizing that you were getting tired and you were alone out here.

How far am I from camp?

You try to see through the darkness, but it was hard to tell how long of a road you had left.

You gave one last swing of your sword, decimating one of the riftwolves and turned to make a run for it. You pushed as fast as your legs could and you could hear the barks and howls of riftwolves running after you.

Your legs start to have a mind of its own and yet you feel sharp claws collide with your back and you're sent hurtling towards the grass, rolling around with a riftwolf trying to bite your arm off.

With a loud yell you push it off and stab it with your sword, then turn to scramble yourself off the ground, only for your body to collide with a dark saurian ramming into you.

Your body ached as you fall sideways to the floor. It happened so fast that you couldn't catch yourself and couldn't recover from the drop. Your body was jolted by the hard ground and your head smashes against a nearby rock.

That did it.

Your vision blurred. The sounds thinned out into a garbling noise until it was just a loud ringing in your ear. Your body was giving in to unconsciousness and your world turned black.

Miles away from you, Varka's eyes shoot open. He straightens up too fast, blanket pooling on the floor and head aching much too hard. He groaned as he buried his face into his hands.

That's when he notices there's a small packet of something clutched in them. "...Be back by lunch...?" He drawls out, then chuckles as he shakes the pill out of the packet. "Classic Y/N," He pops it in his mouth and takes some time to sit on the floor, thinking hard about what transpired the night before.

All he could remember was a drinking contest between him and the Pyro Archon and then... everything was blank. He was getting more of a headache thinking about the earful he was gunna get from you.

He could almost imagine you using his first name.

"Well I really did it this time,"

When he stepped out of the room he noticed that it wasn't as lively as it was the other days. There was almost an ominous wind hanging in the air, like everyone was on edge. It just so happens that someone came bursting into the inn just as he walked out of the room.

It was a group carrying a stretcher in. The man lying on it was injured, and one of the inn staff immediately took over to clean his wounds.

What was happening?

"There's been a massive attack from the Abyss," one of the tavern ladies explains to him, possibly seeing that he looked lost.

The road back was easy for him, though there were monsters here and there, all it took for him was a tenth of his strength. "Get rid of the portals!" He heard a Natlan native shout over to him, also engaged in battle with one of the riftwolves. He made easy work of that and got rid of a few on the way back.

"Everybody's accounted for?" Varka asks as he arrives in camp, unscathed. "Were we attacked?"

"It seems that the perimeter of their attack didn't really include our camp, sir... but we did help out where we can,"

"Good," he curtly responds. He adjusts his gloves a little. "Where's Y/N?"

The knight next to him grows silent. Varka turns his head to look at the non-answer, the knight looked confused.

"Were they not with you?"

See, few things could make Varka's stomach twist and turn the wrong way. Too much alcohol was one of them. Perhaps Jean's lectures could too. He's about to find out that there were more things that could indeed make his stomach drop out from his body.

"What'dyou mean?"

"...We went to get some medical supplies from the city and they went to check on you while we headed back to camp,"

Varka recalls the note.

Be back by lunch.

His mind quiets for a minute as he tries to piece the information together. Blanket on him. Medicine in hand. Note on paper.

You must have left after that.

And then...?

"You're sure they're not here at camp?" Varka asks again. "Maybe do another round, check who else is unaccounted for,"

That was usually your job, actually. To check who got injured, who was missing, who needed help after an emergency incident.

The fact that you were not walking around camp doing that had Varka tapping his foot on the ground, brows furrowed yet maintaining a composed figure.

"...They're not here, sir. Everyone else is fine," The knight comes back wearing a worried look on his face.

You were rarely missing.

Be back by lunch.

Varka feels an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach. "...I'll check the path leading here. Everyone else pack and get ready to move, we can't stay here for too long, keep pushing to Nod-Krai,"

Varka leaves and does another round of the same path he took from the city. The monsters were gone now, probably subdued by the Natlan warriors. He scoured the ground for clues, footprints, blood of some sort but couldn't find anything.

He held back a sigh. Maybe you were just finishing some errands in the city, perhaps you'd... be back by lunch.

He walks back to camp with an unreadable face. Something in him burned to keep looking but he had a whole battalion waiting for his orders.

"...We'll wait a bit," he told the other knights present.

A bit turned to hours.

A bit turned into an orange sky with scattered purple.

They should have left by now. They had wasted a lot of sun.

"...Let's take another day to rest and leave tomorrow,"

is what he wanted to say, but his body moved on its own and did what he thought was the best thing to do. "Let's go,"

Nobody questioned his decision. Y/N wouldn't be the first person they had to leave behind.

"...So what happens if someone goes missing... or if they're too injured to walk?" What you really wanted to say was 'on the verge of death' but it was one of those things that you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud in fear of it actually happening.

"Then in that case, we need to keep moving... Remember, our choices matter, and we have to choose wisely,"

"...Then... who'll be in charge of inventories from now on? And... the other things that Y/N used to do?" one of the knights asked. It was a genuine question. Your job was an important one and filling that gap would be difficult.

Varka clenched his jaw.

Somehow the idea of replacing you and filling in your empty spot finally struck a nerve for him.

You were missing.

He didn't know where you were.

No one knew where you were.

Were you alive, were you dead?

Was it his fault for not being there?

He should've been there. He really should've.

Suddenly all those moments of you reprimanding him flickers through his mind.

"Listen, we can't afford to go another day without water, so we're camping here and looking for a water source, alright? There should be one somewhere!"

"Are you crazy?! We can't just walk through a sandstorm just cause you think it's fun and a good training opportunity!"

"For the 10th time, no, we can't replace our horses with saurians. Jean's going to kill me!"

Varka opens his mouth to respond, it's agape for a split second before he closes it again. He struggled to remain composed. His mind was screaming at him, telling him he couldn't leave. This wasn't the right decision to make.

They couldn't leave without you.

He couldn't leave without you.

"...We'll wait and see who takes up their job. Y/N might catch up on the next camp and we won't have to unnecessarily worry about it," he finally answers.

You knew the route the expedition was taking after all and had probably memorized it and etched it into your brain.

The other knights fall silent but they follow nonetheless as Varka starts to move forward.

He couldn't bring himself to say it.

It was a ritual of sorts. A goodbye so to speak to those they would leave behind and to the soldiers that fell.

Varka would always turn towards the cleaned up camp, and along with all the remaining knights, touch their foreheads to the crossguard of their swords.

Collectively they would say "May the Anemo Archon guide you," as if a prayer to the winds.

Today it was silent.

Those words weren't spoken and the lot of them didn't know what that meant.

That you were still alive? That you would catch up?

No one knew.

But it was definitely a form of refusal.

A form of regret.

A representation of something so rare that the knights were not sure if it even happened:

Varka's Denial.

[primofate]

Gameplay Update

Traveller in the Skirk story quest: "Maybe it was just a very lifelike dream,"

Hello traveller T_T you would think after going through everything you would know that your dreams are not just dreams. This small bit of dialogue actually disappoints me. We can all see a mile away that your dream means something.

[primofate]

It's so important to read your own work again.

I don't mean proofreading, I meant just enjoying them.

To me it's a little cringe, but I saw my copy of The Ruthless Prince on the shelf the other day and for some reason... just decided to read through it again.

Honestly it didn't feel like I wrote it, but boy did it bring back the urge to write. The urge is so strong, but time just isn't right.

I miss Genshin. I don't play it as often but its amazing what fiction and reading can stir in you. I know a lot of you have probably dropped the game, or arent as interested in it anymore and that's okay! Nothing lasts forever.

But again, it's something that has a special place in my heart.

Even if I'm branded "Genshin" though, I hope if I ever write something different, original or fanfiction, that everyone might enjoy a piece of it.

Just a quick update on my thoughts ;)

Still aiming to get the book out end of this year, 2025!

[primofate]

I know this is stupid but hear me out. I reread your Somewhere you can't follow fic and the Scaramouche one somehow reminds me of Taylor Swift's unreleased song "I'd Lie". The song now hits diff after reading the fic. If you don't know the song, please please please listen to it even just once most of all the chorus part and you'll get what I mean.😭

The early days of Taylor Swift was my teenage soundtrack.

In particular, for the song "I'd Lie" teenage me found myself listening to it over and over again because I had a crush on someone who always kept pining for someone else, and I was always there to help him.

The rest of my angsty love story under the cut

He, let's call him Rex, had somehow taken a liking to people who were usually my friends, or at least my acquaintances.

He would write notes to them and I would be the messenger. Mind you, we were probsbly like 15 or 16 at this point.

One particular time, I had asked my friend Jamie if she was interested in Rex, because Rex had enlisted me to send love notes to her. Jamie flat out said no, she was interested in someone else at that point. I still gave her the note, and I told her that Rex is interested in her. She never responded to those notes.

I told Rex, in a very gentle manner, that she wasn't interested "You might want to try elsewhere..."

He understood immediately. "That's okay, I can keep trying,"

The next few days Jamie had complained to me about how Rex was showing up in her class and offering to carry her things, or asking if she was free to hang out.

Jamie wasn't the first person I witnessed reject Rex. At this point I really didn't get it. Why did girls not give him a chance? He was cute. He was smart. He was a gentleman. He was nice. He was upfront about his intentions. He was really good at drawing. He played the guitar. He had a kind sister.

I cried because lil ole me felt that he deserved much more than just girls rejecting him left and right. I cried because, hi, I'm right here. I know you. I knew his favourite colours even though he didn't tell me. Knew that he was sometimes annoyed by his sister. Knew when his birthday was. Knew that he wanted to be an artist. Knew that he had several dreams in store.

Then one day, I got the news that I was moving away.

I cried again. But I cried because of the friendships I was going to lose and the life that I was leaving behind. Not just because of him.

I told my closest girlfriends, and we cried together.

In art class, Rex came up to me and asked "You've been absent on and off, what's up with that?"

I didn't tell him that we were busy packing for the big move. I just told him it was family stuff.

"Oh. Well, we need a partner in art today. I'll draw you," we were supposed to do portraits today.

I was genuinely surprised because Jamie was in that class. So were some other girls he used to be interested in, and even then, his friends were also in the class. Why had he chosen me?

In fact I remember asking him "What about *his friends name*? It doesn't look like he has a partner,"

"Tsk, he'll live,"

I didn't say anything, but for the next hour or so, he spent it silent, sketching my features. Looking up once in a while to look at me and check if he was getting my features right.

When he finished, he signed the sketch off and handed it over to me. "Here you go, don't lose it," then packed up and left.

I don't have that sketch anymore, but to this day, in my mind's eye, it still is the most beautiful portrait of me, and probably the only sketch of me that will ever be drawn.

When it was finally announced to the class by my homeroom teacher that I was leaving in the next few weeks, not even finishing the school year, Rex yet again came up to me and asked questions.

Where are you going?

Are you ever coming back?

Why didn't you tell me earlier?

But everybody else was asking the same thing, so I didn't think much of it.

Until I got a text message from him at night.

"Are you free at some point? Let's go shopping, I'll get you something you like,"

In the deepest parts of my mind something clicked, but I also told myself I was probably just imagining it.

I replied with the truth, I said it was too busy at home packing and sorting things out.

"What time do you get to school? I'll meet you by the curve and walk with you," in tagalog "Sabay na tayo," he tried to keep the question really casual, but I think I was getting the hint at this point.

I was stuck. Do I let him do this and enjoy the attention for the last few days? Or do I nip it in the bud in fear of falling too hard at the wrong time?

I decided to stay neutral. I decided to pretend I didn't know what he was up to, but I did, because this is exactly what he did to all the girls he liked before.

I didn't tell him what time I usually got to school. I merely said my mom actually walks me to the gate.

"That's okay, I'll still walk with you,"

I just told him we can walk together if he happens to see me.

In the next few days he continues to send me messages after school, asking about mundane things like what things do I like. What color. What toys. He asked more about where I was going. If I was coming back. The what ifs.

In actual school he didn't really interact with me that much, but that was also because I spent a lot more time being whisked away by my friends.

At some point in between all of that he managed to catch me on the way to school. My mom had been there and probably raised an eyebrow when he approached me and said we could walk together. He said hi to my mom and continued talking to me.

It was then that I noticed a small whale plushie keychain on his bag. I thought it was cute and without thinking I grabbed it and squeezed it.

"You like it?" He asked.

"It's cute," I said.

On my last day of school he handed me that same plush and said I could keep it. "But you have to give it back to me when you come back,"

He wouldn't let go of it until I promised.

He texted me a lot that night. Asking what time my flight was. If he could see me off at the airport. If I could continue texting him even when I'm away.

I said I would try my best.

We were just kids, and we both fell out of touch when things got busy.

I never spoke to him again, but those memories are still very clear in my mind.

So all that angst that I post? Some of it is probably pulled from my various memories that I'm thankful for. That, or it was inspired by Taylor Swift hehehehe.

:)

[primofate]

HELLO! In response to Annonie's message from before, I come to give my perspective! The Scara angst is really one of my favorite things in this universe. People must begin to know how to differentiate and separate Wanderer from Scaramouche, being two totally "different" subjects (even though they are the same soul, the same "person", etc., we understand each other) I'm a lore player, so there's absolutely nothing that gives me a greater sense of joy and comfort than seeing a reader x CANON Scaramouche. No, Scaramouche is not a kind, good, or even affectionate being. Another thing is Wanderer. That's up to each individual's interpretation.

What I mean is that you have to have a very structured mind and enough experience for a writer to be able to leave behind the idealization of Scaramouche when making a one shot or a fanfic with him. Because being canon-compliant, everyone knows what Scaramouche himself is like. So seeing a WELL MADE Scaramouche x Reader is great!

Lots of things to discuss here, but also a view that I appreciate! Thank you!

Just so we don't get lost I'm going to number my thoughts.

Scaramouche angst has one of the best potentials in Genshin story writing. He is perfect for the "I don't need you, but wait, maybe I do" storylines. I don't think any other character comes close to that dynamic (Let me know if you think otherwise! I love discussion) maybe I should make a Genshin Men and their Romance Tropes post hahaha

SPOILERS

2. Genshin gave Scaramouche so much character growth it's insane. I might be wrong but I don't see anyone else with a storyline that went from "this guy is insane" to "this guy is starting over a new leaf" to "this guy cares". It's probably why I like him so much. Maybe Raiden, but that was a totally different back story to Scaramouche's.

3. I don't claim to be canon-compliant. Mainly because I'm conscious of some characters that I don't really know that well, haha. It's easier for me to say "this is my version of (insert character) here" it may not follow canon events because at some point I really do start forgetting the lore, specially in such a big game and story. But I am glad you think my Scara is canon-compliant!

[primofate]

Hopefully, you're okay with this kind of comment. I really don't like the way you write Scara. It's like he sees the reader as less than human, throwing insults like no problem and expecting them to just take it or else they're more unlikable and emotionally weaker than they already are in his eyes. But your works are popular, hell almost ALL fics that characterize him and the Reader like you do are more prevalent, and as a (very conscious) self-shipper to this chara, I feel like I have to stomach this, otherwise I don't deserve him or to selfship to him in any way.

I'm okay with this!

At least you aren't too rude about it.

You don't have to like the way I write Scara, nor anyone else's Scara. You don't have to stomach it nor read it and you don't have to feel like you "don't deserve him"...I guess?

How I write Scara is how I see his character. I do think Scaramouche, The Balladeer, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers was a snarky, rude and borderline heartless man. A result of a broken world and broken promises.

Wanderer isn't.

Nor was the person before he was abandoned.

Or at least that's how I see it.

Thank you for your opinion!

[primofate]

scaramouche scaramouche (will you do the fandango)

partially inspired by kintsugi :)

[primofate]

Let's start a Genshin Thread:

Just for fun. Copy paste with your own answers!

No judging others please!

My ultimate fave:

My second fave:

I thought I loved them but it was just a phase:

I'm sorry, I'm not fond of them:

Here's mine:

My ultimate fave: Scaramouche

My second fave: Diluc

I thought I loved them but it was just a phase: Neuvillette, Kinich, Citlali

I'm sorry, I'm not fond of them: Kaveh, Jean

[primofate]

My ultimate favourite is still Scaramouche idk why I'm down bad for him again :(

[primofate]

Death and Regrets - Alhaitham

Notes: This has been written for quite a while. It will be part of my next Genshin book "Primofate's Angst Anthology Volume 1" I was planning on keeping it exclusive to the book, but I hadn't posted in such a long while that I felt that I had to give you guys something. Grateful to all of you who are still here and please look forward to the release of my next book! I'm planning for it to be out late 2025 on Amazon!

Word Count: 2316 (yes, the death and regrets in my next book are quite long)

Others in the series: (Scaramouche and Kaeya Version) (Thoma, Xiao, Diluc and Zhongli)  (Itto, Gorou, Albedo)

Death, Regrets and Second Chances [An Alternate Ending to Death and Regrets]: (Kazuha, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya)

Warnings: not proofread, YOU DIE, no comfort

Characters: gn! reader x Alhaitham

It was not that your relationship with the Scribe was a secret, it was simply because the two of you were private people. There’s no reason to go around telling everyone that the two of you were dating, in fact, it would be rather unprofessional to do that, seeing as both of you held high positions in the Akademiya.

Even before that, however, when you were merely students, there were a few countable times in which Alhaitham and you crossed paths.

“What’s a Vahumana student doing reading a book about ancient runes?” He was a handsome, young man. As he was today. But he was less guarded, less critical of others in his younger years. You had no idea whatsoever that this encounter with him would lead to a blossoming romantic endeavour.

You stared up at him, rather enchanted by his eyes, book held in your hands. You took one look at his uniform and immediately knew he was Haravatat. “…We’re going on an expedition into the Hadramaveth Ruins soon…” you explain, just waiting for him to leave.

He stands in front of you for a good 5 seconds before sighing and exclaiming “…I suppose I can let you have the book for a few more days,” he starts to walk off, adding a brief “Let me know if you’re done with it,” signalling to you that he probably wanted to borrow the book.

It was weeks later that you handed the book over to him, your left arm bandaged up and in a sling. He glanced at the book, then at your arm. “…What happened to you?” it was merely an offhanded question. He was just curious what kind of accident you got into.

You didn’t seem the reckless type.

“Just some trouble in the ruins,” you shrug.

You thought that leaving the book with him was the last you would see of Alhaitham. But, days later, struggling with a broken arm and in a cliché scenario of being unable to reach a book on the highest shelf, it was him who leans forward and retrieves it for you easily.

“…Alhaitham,” he says it with a bit of uncertainty. As if not knowing if he was making the right decision.

“Huh?” You instinctively let out.

“My name. It’s Alhaitham,” You make a sound of understanding, and give him your own.

What happened after that was a whirlwind of intense and exhilarating experiences. Somehow he had made it part of his routine to lend you a hand in the library. Those little butterflies in your stomach start to flutter, wondering why he made such effort for you, when you secretly knew the answer yourself.

Those same butterflies start to fly, flitting about in twists and turns in your stomach when you find yourself sitting side by side with him, studying separate subjects, yet together in each other’s presence.

Until, even when the sun set, the butterflies are awake and alive within you, seemingly escaping your gut and now fluttering with a rhythmic thump-thump-thump in your chest while the two of you meet in the secret corners of the dormitories, head to shoulder, whispering and talking about anything and everything you could think of.

You excelled in your school, as did he, and before long, the two of you were given important roles within the Akademiya. Him as the Scribe, and you, as Vahumana’s Assistant Sage.

“Y/N?” there was a knock on your study door, voice as familiar to you as your own.

“Come in,” you stand as the door pushes open. Alhaitham slips in and just as easily closes the door with his foot, striding over to meet you at the middle of the room.

Knowing that there was no one there except the two of you, both of you walk the full length, up until he opens one arm, and up until you walk into his warmth. His arm wraps you tight for a few seconds, his eyes closing, nose diving into your hair for a quick kiss, before releasing you completely and stepping away from each other.

Just a quick greeting.

Always a quick greeting, in case someone decides to come in.

“Your message…” Alhaitham trails off, he had been out on some sort of task for a few days and the only way to reach him had been through a messenger. The message you sent was clear. Grand Sage Azar was planning something devious, and he had to be stopped. “…are you sure?”

“…At the very least, Azar is suspicious,” you recount how it seems like the Grand Sage had been scheming something. That there was an important project the sages had been working on. That Cyno had suddenly quit his post as General Mahamatra. “…They’re tampering with the Akasha System, and I haven’t seen Naphis in weeks,” you end, face carrying a grim expression.

Alhaitham, as always, remained calm and collected. You had long known that he had been a person of logic. That he was smarter than the average person, his mind always seemed to be working faster than others’ did.

“…Even then, there’s nothing we can do at the moment, without any evidence,” he closes his eyes when he says this, possibly going through all the information that you’ve given him.

“Alhaitham,” you press, words suddenly taking a more assertive edge. “It’s not natural for Naphis to disappear like this. Furthermore, all the other sages assure me that he’s merely busy working on the project.” And it’s here that he detects a hint of your pleading tone. “but he opposed of the project, Alhaitham. They’re hiding something,”

He holds back a sigh, you see it in the way his shoulders tense and his face attempts to remain neutral. “If we don’t have anything against them, then there’s nothing we can do,” he repeats and you almost feel like you’re talking to a wall, but he continues. “I’ll scout around, but there are other things I have to do. We can’t just go by your intuition alone,”

“You’re saying I’m making this all up?”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’re letting your frustration get the better of you, Y/N,”

You bite your lip. He’s right. As he always is. Patience is a virtue, that was always what he said. If he wanted to do something, it had to be mapped out and planned perfectly. It wasn’t his style to go rushing into something, including accusations of people.

“We’ll talk about this a bit more tomorrow. Just cool off, for now,” he leaves with only a nod, knowing that the two of you just needed some time to think and gather your thoughts carefully, before hatching a plan. Together, the two of you could easily do it, Alhaitham had always valued your opinions and intelligence.

Early morning the next day the same messenger you had sent to Alhaitham finds his way to your study. Karman, his name was.

“Assistant Sage Y/N,” he respectfully hands you a letter, bows his head and steps away.

The letter is addressed to you, from Alhaitham.

I was on a separate task to the Hadramaveth Ruins and found traces of the sages “project”. I did return to the Akademiya but hadn’t the time to seek you out before leaving for another assignment. I left my letter to Karman. I’ll make quick of my task, and meet you at the Ruins shortly after daybreak.

Karman only watches as you drop the letter on your desk, quickly packing essentials to travel to the ruins.

Pity. He thought to himself. Such a young talent going to waste.

“You’re free to go,” you hurriedly dismiss him and he nods, taking a last glance at the fabricated letter on your table.

Alhaitham wakes far too late to stop the tragedy from happening. When he slips into your study, your door being slightly agape was his first clue that something was amiss. The second was the letter on your table.

‘I didn’t write this,’ was his instant reaction.

‘Y/N’s in trouble,’ was his second,gut-wrenching realization.

He sprinted without a second thought towards the ruins. His legs, as practiced and trained as they were from doing assignment after assignment, burned with a speed that he had never attempted to reach before. He hears his laboured breathing in his ears, hears his heart going faster than he had ever felt it go.

All the while he berated himself. How could he not have seen this coming? Why had he not taken extra precautions?

The desert is brutal, even to him. It was harder to press on, his feet stamping on soft sand, making it difficult to propel forward. He sees the ruins in the far horizon, the doors shut tight.

I can make it! He thinks to himself, pushing his strength to the last limits. You must have been inside,all he had to do was—

BANG!

In a sudden, quick explosion of sand the entrance to the ruins erupt in a lick of flames. And then, one after another bombs set off. The ground shook at the intensity, Alhaitham swayed, tipped over, and fell forward only to push himself up and keep going, his eyes determinedly glued to the ruin entrance despite the sand kicking up everywhere.

I’ll make it. I’m coming.

Explosions were still going off, ringing in his ears. His worst nightmare descended upon him when the ruin doors burst into thousands of pieces, in smithereens and mixing with the sand. The rest of the structure stumbled and caved in, it was sinking so fast into the sand.

Alhaitham pressed on.

There’s no way.

He scrambled forward as the pillars and rocks crumble and sink. For a moment he thinks he hears someone calling his name, but all he can think about is your face.

Your face. In every corner of his life. Now sinking into the sand, trapped for eternity, never to be seen again.

Y/N…!

“Alhaitham!” He’s suddenly jerked backwards, equally strong arms are holding him back, preventing him from going any further into the disaster.

“Y/N!” Alhaitham finally bellows, the sound of his voice echoing through the desert. He struggles against the hold, pulling and heaving himself forward. When he realized that the person holding on to him was just as stubborn as he was, he swerved around with a glare. “I have to go! What’re you doi—” he stopped short, and saw that it was Cyno.

Cyno who had a pained look in his eyes. “It’s too late,” he said as a matter of factly.

Alhaitham stilled, he could hear the structure still crumbling, yet to him it sounded like the whole world falling. He jerked away from Cyno’s grasp, turning towards the crumbling structure, and finally fell to his knees.

His hands grasp on sand, palm stinging at how hard he was gripping on to them. “—Can’t be,” he murmurs something into the wind, only bits of it audible. His frame crumples forward, arms keeping him from falling face first into the sand. “It can’t be…It can’t. can’t. can’t. CAN’T be!” His fist pounds into the sand with each angry word, eyes squeezing shut and wracking his brain for a solution. This can’t be it. Y/N was smarter than that, you might’ve found a way to avoid it.

To Cyno, who had never seen Alhaitham unravel in such a way, who had no idea that the man could even be in such a state, only silently watched. Unaware of what he could do for him. “Alhaitham…”

The Scribe suddenly stood, as if he hadn’t been mourning just a few seconds ago. By now the storm had settled, and where the ruin doors once stood was now just a mound of sand, as if it had never been there before. “Y/N could still be around,”

Cyno could only see his back, now tall and proud. The General Mahamatra watched as Alhaitham picked his arm up, laid it over what would be his face and dragged it, slowly, from left to right. Cyno wasn’t sure if it had been sweat or tears, but the taller man stood there for a moment, and with a hint of a tremble, said “I have to bring Y/N back…”

That’s how Cyno knew, that Alhaitham was conscious of the world, was conscious of the tragedy that had just happened.

But that didn’t stop him from coming back to the ruins every single day, holding out on whatever hope he had, the pain of “We’ll talk about this a bit more tomorrow. Just cool off, for now,” repeating over and over and over again in his head, keeping him awake at night.

How could that have been his last words to you?

How could he have passed on the chance to wrap you in his arms, like all those times the two of you shared in your younger years, and passed on the chance to tell you how much he adored, missed and loved you instead?

The worst part of it all was the fact that he had nothing left. Not even a last look of your face, not even a tombstone to visit. Not even a safe space for you to rest.

All of a sudden it didn’t matter how much he had succeeded in life up until this point. He had failed you so miserably.

What had he been doing for the past few years?

What was it all for?

When all was said and done, when the sun set and the tasks were completed, he came home to you.

And now, there was no home to be found. For a while, he would come home and collapse on the cold, hard, floor. It was so, so quiet and all around the four walls he saw your face and your smile, haunting and piercing his soul.

There was no home here.

Only sadness, and solitude.

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[primofate]

Once upon a time there was this fanfiction that I read... [Genshin Spin]

TW: Death, angst, misunderstanding

It was a very, very long time ago, maybe in 2008. I can't even remember what anime it was anymore, but I'm taking those memories and that idea and spinning it into Genshin.

If anybody knows which fanfiction I'm talking about, please let me know as I would LOVE to read it again.

Pick a Genshin Character of your choice.

In the story, you were arranged into a marriage to him for efficiency's sake. As all arranged marriage tropes go, you gradually and actually fall in love with each other.

However, before the wedding happens, you find out that there's something undesirable about him.

For instance, Tartaglia's thirst for battle and his connections with Fatui.

Diluc's guardedness, and how you always felt like you never got the whole of him.

Wriothesley's past. How he has killed people.

Alhaitham's lack of emotion and his logic first approach.

Scaramouche's terrible mouth and lack of respect for anyone at all.

Xiao's unwillingness to open up to you.

Zhongli's experience which far surpasses yours. Sometimes it's like you're not even on the same wavelength.

He gives you a chance to back out of the arrangement. And you, being young and fearful, decide that there is still much of the world for you to see and more people for you to meet. This man can't be the one you'd spend your life with.

So you leave.

Years pass and the more you see of the world the more you realize that no one in this world is perfect at all and, strangely, you find yourself yearning for someone your heart already knows. Your past, arranged lover.

Sure, there were a lot of things wrong with him, but there were also a lot of things wrong with you and when you finally find him, he's even more guarded than before.

He did really take a liking to you back then, so now as he sees you approaching again, you can't blame him for the caution that he shows.

You don't exactly pine for his attention nor his love. But you accepted that you had to start all over again.

You start by getting to know him again, what he's been up to, what he likes to do, what his goals are in exchange for stories of your own. You support him as much as you can, and fondly take care of him as you did before, maybe even more.

Truthfully, to someone looking from the outside, it pretty much looks like you're clinging on to him and in some senses, you are. You took him for granted back then, but you're now willing to repay that mistake with genuine love and care.

Until one day, the enemies you've made come looking for him. You've just been sticking to him real close these days that it's hard to get a hold of you alone, when it's easier to bully you.

So, your enemies feed him lies.

"Duke Wriothesley, correct?"

"Master Diluc, right?"

"Iudex of Fontaine,"

"Former Geo Archon,"

"Balladeer"

and proceeds to tell them a secret that only you would know.

"Y/N? She's disgusted that you killed your own parents."

"She thinks you're pathetic, grovelling over your father's death,"

"Uncaring. Justice always comes first over everything else,"

"You bore her, talking about history the way you do,"

"Pah! Why would she bother with someone rude like you, really?"

and your enemies deal the final blow.

"We've paid her to follow you. Why do you think she's come all the way here looking for you again? You don't really think it was for you? All your secrets? She's sold them to us for a hefty price. Enough to cover her for a lifetime,"

and perhaps it's hard to imagine him believing it on first thought. But this was a man you had already turned away from once and then just happened to reappear into his life randomly again.

So the next time you come looking for him, smile on your face, packed lunch and all... He looks at you with a cold gaze, and accuses you of things you had no idea about.

"Leave. You've made yourself clear,"

"Get lost. You're even more disgusting than I am,"

"I know you're being paid, so cut the crap,"

"You can stop acting now,"

And you... Poor you who really just wanted to gain his favour. Who really just wanted a second chance to love him again, try to ask him what he means but he responds with despise.

"I know why you've been following me. Stop acting like you care and leave,"

Hurt, you leave without further questioning him. Not even a day later, your enemies come knocking at your door. Finally, you're alone.

Finally, they can make a move without worrying about that pesky man of yours.

And finally... they kill you. Just like that, in your own home.

Fortunately, he knows your new address.

Fortunately, he comes looking for you after a few days of mulling over his words. Perhaps he just had to hear your side of the story first. He didn't let you talk last time out of anger, but maybe this time it would be clearer.

Maybe this time it would be different.

Maybe this time...

...

...

...it would be the end.

Does it fit into a Genshin context?

If this is a trope, what trope is it?

What similar tropes like this have you read and liked? Would love to read them :D

Kinda reminds me of a MAFIA thing and I feel like it fits more into that but for the life of me I CANNOT find the fanfiction anymore. It used to be on fanfiction.net

:(