#anywho !!! he seems vvv interesting i am curious to learn more abt him :^) twas enjoyable writing this

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

( if the road is long, it doesn't matter what you weigh-- i will carry you. )

chara : neuvillette fandom : genshin impact quote cr : jacqueline woodson a/n : okay i read abt him for a few minutes so let's hope this is in character (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

one : & THE WEIGHT OF JUSTICE IS A HEAVINESS IN ENDEAVORS, THE SCALES MEANT TO BE TIPPED IN FAVOR OF GOOD IN A WAR WAGED AGAINST EVILS. BUT EVEN IN ONE WITH A SEEMINGLY COLD HEART, THERE IS BURDEN ETCHED IN THE TRACES OF BLUE / OF OCEAN WAVES / OF DIVINITY, AND WHEN THE RAIN POURS, THE WORLD WILL KNOW OF A SORROW UNKNOWN & UNTOLD.

the rain represents many a thing : a hinting of hope, a dreadfulness meant to be endured before the sun rises once more, the coming of bloom in petals unfurled / a possible despair, a grieving in madness, an anguish profound.

there is a sentiment in every droplet that falls and falls, and when you look to the sky, feel the water trail down your face in the gentlest of touches, there is a semblance of grief in the way your lips instinctively curve in the knowing.

you stare at the mourning sky. you close your eyes, inhale deep. exhale. there's an umbrella in your hand, but you do not use it.

and so the rain begins like this : solemn, quiet. fickle -- an announced presence, one so faint that one questions a mere drop here and there, and then the hurting begins, the understanding of the pain one has always carried alone. the rain grows, pours and pours, and then it storms.

another deep breath. you finally look down.

you know this story, you do. the legends once told of a dragon's cry.

you smile again.

still, you do not use your umbrella. you keep walking. there is somewhere to go, someone to be with.

two : & THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS A HEAVINESS IN THE HEART, THE BEATING AND BEATING OF A LIFE LONG LIVED GROWN WEARY AND TIRED. BUT EVEN IN THE HAZE OF DAYS GONE BY, THERE IS LOVE ETCHED IN THE TRACES OF FERVOR / OF QUIET COMFORT / OF REVERENCE, AND WHEN THE RAIN POURS, THE DRAGON WILL KNOW OF A SERENITY FOREVERMORE.

"rumor has it," you speak, words filled with repose as you lean against the door frame of a bedroom shared, "that when the dragon cries, the world will hear it, feel it, but they will not understand it."

neuvillette sits on the edge of the bed, his back facing you. you see the way he tenses slightly, and it is almost instinct that he wipes his tears away, ignores the subtle lump in his throat. he does not try to hide it much, not really. and it isn't because he is ashamed-- he's not, because there is not weakness in expressing one's grievances, but to him, it is simply just not necessary. unwarranted, even.

it is not often that he mourns, and truth be told, you think, it is not nearly enough. you take a few steps forward, your clothes slightly damp, the cool air gracing your skin. you find yourself standing before him. he is quick to rise from the bed, brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern at your state. he glances at the umbrella that lays by the door, and he is almost certain you did not use it at all.

"you carried it, yet you chose not to make use of it." he murmurs, and he almost feels guilty. you could get sick-- you're cold to the touch, but you don't shake, don't frown, don't complain. he doesn't understand.

you smile, and there is something so endearing about it that it almost hurts. you wonder if it will begin to storm again. you feel the way his hand cups your cheek ; you lean into the touch, place your hand over his.

"no, i didn't." you answer, and the warmth in your tone makes his heart hurt, somehow. "i never mind the rain, dearest." your smile grows the slightest bit, but so does the ache in his chest. "i know it signifies your pain. you carry everything on your shoulders-- alone, and you always have."

a pause, a brief flicker of reluctance as you choose your words carefully.

"i've always been fond of the rain. not because i know it means you're suffering, but because i know that you can grieve without judgement or reserve. because i know you're letting yourself feel."

then, you hear it-- the revival of rain, the gentle sound of droplets hitting the windowpanes, trailing down and down before collision. there is a storm brewing in the depths of his being, and in the skies, there is one that looms over fontaine. your thumb grazes his cheekbone, wipes another tear away before you press your forehead against his, bring yourself to speak again.

"i won't shy away from it. i won't hide from it. no matter when it rains, no matter where it rains, i'll always come find you. you know that, don't you?"

his other hand finds yours, almost as if by second nature. how gently he squeezes it, and he does so in quiet acknowledgement of your kindness and the love you have always shared. it's a long moment before he responds, and you can tell he's thinking, trying to find all the right things to say. but how do you respond to such ardor? how can you reciprocate something so venerating?

"you are stubborn, love. you'll fall ill."

you let out a soft laugh, almost roll your eyes in exasperation at his reply.

"yes, but it will be worth it. you're always worth it, neuvi."