#i love you furina

[tsuneve]

furina🫧

i drew furina as aizawa from Our Precious Conversations since i’ve really been enjoying reading it atm💞

[strawbaby-snail]

waaaa first post 🌤️ and it's lady furina <3 rip Robespierre, u would have loved the Fontaine archon quest

[pluvioseprince]

lgbtq slang (overheard it from lyney. who is laughing his ass off somewhere)

[syea-say]

The finale of a never-ending masquerade.

AQ 4.2 spoilers.

[napstawantstosleep]

Despite everything, it's still you 🚬

[khickuwa]

"keep your eyes on me." 💧

[sky-blue-cat]

He is just a big sad worm on a string in need of some comfort

[n4391]

Our Hydro Archon Can't Be This Cute!!! 😭 Best of Luck on the upcoming Furina banner, everyone!

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

[varus-messy-room]

[m1d-45]

spoken across stars IV

summary: voicelines characters would have in sagau! ft. lyney, lynette, freminet, and two bonuses :)

word count: ~710

-> warnings: major spoilers for fontaine archon quest

-> gn reader (you/yours, one ‘their’) and unspecified traveller (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< zhongli, ayato, heizou || < masterlist >

lyney

about us: the traveller

What do I think of the traveller? Well, they’re observant, quick on their feet, and remarkably determined once set in their ways. They’re the only reason Fontaine is still standing, and the only reason I’m not stuck in the Fortress of Meropide. I owe them quite a bit, now that I think about it…

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

Imagine a travelling opera troupe visited town, and you decide to attend. You listen to the musical scores, watch the actors dance across the stage, years of practice and rehearsals condensed into a single scene, an unknowable amount of complexity lost from your place in the audience. You want to watch it over and over, to ask the director about his creative process and about the symbolism of the chorus, but everything packs up before you know it. You think about it forever, mourning the fragility of your own memory, wanting more than anything to watch it just one more time.

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

Thank you for keeping my family safe. Thank you for your compassion, for believing in Lynette and Freminet and Father and… for trusting me. I lied to you and the traveller when we met and yet you still chose to help, and that means more than I can ever express. You’re kind and caring and… ah, I’m no good with words. Just… thank you. For everything.

lynette

about us: the traveller

I like them. Quick, to the point, and able to back up their words with their swordsmanship. They’re surprisingly willing to work with the Fatui; though, that shouldn’t be too unexpected considering how much Tartaglia likes to talk about them.

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

What does a flower think of the sun? Or the tide of the moon?

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

Gifts and acts of service are how thanks are normally given, but considering your status… I’m no good at speeches without a script, so I’ll get to the point. Thank you for everything. I’m here if you need me. Don’t be shy about asking for help, either; no amount of errands I could run could make up for saving Teyvat thrice over. If it’s for you, I don’t mind.

freminet

about us: the traveller

The.. traveller…? Ah, I- I never got the chance to speak with them that often. Usually Lyney or Lynette interact with them… But, I am grateful they’re here. Who knows where Fontaine would be without them…

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

What about them? W-wait, that sounded bad—what I meant to say was: why were you asking about them? My opinion? That’s… a strange question to ask. It’s like asking what I think of the sea, or what Lynette thinks of oysters, or Lyney his shows or Father the House. I.. I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question…

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for you. You changed my life, how I view myself and my family, and gave me the strength to protect what I care about. I am forever in your debt. Should you ever need anything, give me the order and it will be done.

bonus!!

arlecchino

about the creator: recitals

I think it’s amusing how much effort people put into planning a thing as simple as prayer. Every day, the children carefully discuss what candles would smell the best when lit, pestering Lyney for his opinion… even Freminet, blessed as he is, practices his words at least twice before addressing them formally. Then again, he never has been confident with his words…

navia

about the creator: tea time

I rather enjoy tea parties. Brewing the tea, baking the pastries, sitting together with a few friends, it’s all so peaceful. Of course, now that Silver and Melus are gone, I find myself drinking tea all on my own. No, there’s no need to worry—sitting above a thriving Spina, knowing everything we’ve been through and the strength we’ve been given, I never feel lonely.

[taogura]

as many others i also cannot help but be weak towards the thought of neuvillette developing more “beast-like” (dragon-like) traits with the return of his primordial powers. he’s still the firm, gentle, righteous iudex his country has known him for these past 400 years, but people close to him notice some subtle changes — it has gotten easier to notice an irked expression, or how his fingers curl around his cane a bit tighter during a particularly hard trial, or the fact that sometimes when it rains, it pours.

he seems to be especially invested with matters concerning furina. it started right during his meeting with focalors, when she sacrificed herself right in front of his helpless eyes. and what remains, what has always been by his side— furina, is human. mortal. fragile in a way he never expected her to be. so it doesn’t come as a surprise when he gets spotted quite a few times near her apartment, or in her company, drinking some tea (water for him) and eating expensive cakes he knows she adores. and if his hand starts itching when it’s close enough for her to touch it, or if his heart squeezes inside of his chest when he can finally hear her laugh again, or if he learns how anger tastes in his mouth when he hears ignorant citizens bash the former hydro archon… then it should just be a normal display of his renewed powers, shouldn’t it?

[caluupin]

I am so normal about act 5

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unending.

Continuation of Undeterred.

Pairing: Furina x Reader (+Arlecchino) [Genshin].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Melodramatic Lesbians. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

 Furina had not been made to be loved.

It was an unfortunate truth she’d come to terms within the first decade of her being. As an archon, she’d received adoration. As a performer and a director, she knew appraise. She’d experienced things like love, things that came very close, but never love itself. Her creator had not loved her, no more than Focalors had loved any of the people she’d come so close to dooming, and even those she’d been close to as a goddess were no more able to love her than a member of the audience would be able to love a starring actress. And that was the way it should be, she was able to convince herself on her best days. There was no point yearning for things that could never be. What had she ever done to be worthy of love, in the first place?

“My lady?”

She didn’t stir at the sound of your footsteps, only leaning more of her weight onto the balcony guardrail and throwing the quickest, slightest glance over her shoulder. You were a sight – hair thoroughly tussled, discolored bruising in the shape of Lord Arlecchino’s teeth painted down either side of your throat, a robe of ivory silk pulled loose over your body – but she was sure that she was no better, herself. The insatiable exhaustion that seemed to drape itself over her perpetually was now paired with a distinct ache in her shoulders, a soreness at the base of her throat. It would be worse in the morning, although shame would’ve started to soften the night’s harsher edges, by them.

You didn’t ask before taking a seat next to her and thrusting a porcelain chalice into her lap. “More wine?” she asked, taking it up reflexively.

“Water,” you corrected, settling into place beside her. “I thought you might want to start chipping away at tomorrow’s burden.”

Only half-consciously, Furina found herself smiling. She’d always been fond of that side of the human mind – always so considerate, even when the slanted angle of your posture and the slight limp in your step made it clear you’d rather still be in bed. Gods, like her, were rarely so selfless.

Only, she wasn’t a god anymore. She’d never been, really – only an actress preforming the role of one.

She stopped herself before could spiral any further.

You’d rather be in bed, she retreated back to, instead. Furina was sure of it. That was where she’d left you – Arlecchino’s face still buried between your thighs, your hands balling at her silk sheets in pleasure. It was a good match – you and Arlecchino, two brilliant minds hidden behind cruel tongues and beautiful faces. She could only hope that, once you took your rightful place at the Harbinger’s side, you’d remember to write her a letter every now and then. “You really should start packing,” she muttered, absent-mindedly. “I think I remember Lord Arlecchino mentioning that her ship leaves at dawn.”

You hummed. “And where would I be sailing away to, my lady?”

“…Snezhnaya? That is, unless she has obligations elsewhere.”

Another hum, a quick shake of your head. “Snezhnaya’s far too cold at this time of year. If it were Mondstadt, maybe, but for Snezhnaya, I’m afraid I’d never be able to force myself off the boat. Fontaine’s climate is much more agreeable.”

Her lips quirked downward. “Don’t patronize me, I—” Her voice cut out, abruptly. It was a fight to summon it again, but she soldiered on. “I know her interest in you is genuine. You’d be a fool not to leave with her.” You opened your mouth, but she only raised her voice. “If you’re afraid of leaving me alone, don’t be. I—I can manage on my own, and—”

She grit her teeth, clenching her eyes shut. In an instant, your hand was on her shoulder, your side pressed into her arm, but she refused to let herself fall back into the familiar haven of your comfort. “And,” she managed, eventually, even if her voice was weak, her tone dangerously close to tipping into something suitably pathetic. “It’s not as if I’m an archon, anymore. You don’t have to keep pretending you like being around me.”

You let a moment pass by in silence, then another.

Finally, you said, “It’s true that Lord Arlecchino is very charming.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, just—”

“And her prowess on the battlefield and at the war-table can’t be overstated.”

“Well, it’s unfair to compare—”

“And I’m sure her salary as a Harbinger would make it so that I never had to lift a finger for as long as I choose to stay with her.”

“Alright, I never asked to you to do all that—”

 “But,” you went on, your hand falling onto her own and squeezing, gently. “I’m afraid I’ve already sent her away. I doubt it’ll last, but for the moment, she seems assured of my total and utter inability to reciprocate her affection.”

Furina couldn’t help but blanch. “You sent her—Why? She’s so handsome, and tall, and—”

“And I’m not in love with her.” You slumped against her, your exhaustion shining through your low-brewing mirth. “It’s awful, honestly. It’s a terrible waste, honestly. I’m afraid the girl who’s truly stolen my heart is far too oblivious to ever notice me.”

Her eyes widened. It was in turn to take your hand, now, to snap towards you – her fatigue instantly replaced with curiosity. “You’re in love with someone? Who? Why haven’t you told me?”

Your only response was a slight smile, an airy laugh. Your eyes darted up to meet hers, and Furina felt her cheeks start to burn. “Oh.”

“I know,” you said, with another breathy chuckle. “Like I said, it’s terrible.”

Oh.

It felt like a stupid thing to ask. It was a stupid thing to ask, but her hand was shaking by the time it found your cheek and her throat felt dry and it was all she could do to make herself say anything at all. “Can I…?”

She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. Your mouth was already crashing into hers, the kiss more tender than any other form of intimacy she’d experienced that night, any other form of affection her immortality had ever seen fit to afford her. She felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes, something dry and choking begin to swell at the base of her throat, but she choked it down, melting against you.

Furina, the archon, had not been meant to be loved.

And yet, there was still a chance that Furina, the human, might turn out differently.

[archonfurina]

@flurrina asked: pairings - neuvillette/furina or cloud/tifa