#imagine it reminds him of the melusines?

[eternadreeblissa]

Ok but then a thought occurred to me

*SPOILERS FOR NUEVILLETTE'S STORY QUEST*

Yall remember the imposter SAGAU? Reader has been accused of impersonating creator of teyvat and everyone is after their head?

Imagine being in Fontaine and youre crying or grieving over your favorite characters or so persecuting and hunting you, being homesick and at the same time sick and beaten. Your tears reach the waters or lands of Fontaine. So when Nuevillette goes to find you through the water searching for your emotions and all...

Imagine how he'd react?

Ah, suddenly, the rain cries alongside you.

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK .

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe alhaitham neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. look at the cuties taking care of u :3 | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

when you're sick, he immediately forces you to get back into bed, not moving a muscle. xiao does everything, from making you food to going out to run errands and even enduring that horrible small talk he had to go through because he hasn't interacted with the stall owner in a while. he squeezes your hands to make sure that you know that he's there! xiao won't let anything happen to you. make sure that you're all wrapped up and cuddly when he gets home, because he's sure to shower you with physical affection – even if that's something that he doesn't do very often.

zhongli

zhongli makes sure to brew his finest tea for you, as well as booking that speedy consultation with the local pharmacist. trust that with all his years of wisdom and knowledge, zhongli makes sure to pick the best traditional medicine for you: a basket of ground violetgrass and qingxins mixed with honey sometimes does the trick. he watches your poor frame tremble, and wishes that he were gifted the powers of health instead.

diluc

upon hearing that you're sick, diluc immediately calls for adelinde to make something for you – a sweet broth, that has cured all things health-related since his childhood. it's a one-pot wonder, and adelinde has to politely kick him out of the kitchen before he says too much and ruins her cooking. diluc doesn't care about getting germs, and still makes sure that you're close to him. he holds you close, and maybe that wishful thinking of you passing your germs to him will make everything better.

kaeya

trust that when you first cough, he immediately goes to albedo to ask for a cure and a medication – albedo has to remind him that he's an alchemist, not a pharmacist – and kaeya sighs and turns to his stash of medication instead. he definitely makes sure to give you extra attention during this period (extra attention? what's that, when you've always been spoilt by your boyfriend?) and gets you all the different comfort foods and all the things you want and need – kaeya is the boyfriend to be at your side, day and night, when you're sick.

childe

makes his mom's chicken noodle soup for you! it's packed with veggies you love and a hearty broth that is just perfect for your sinuses. childe definitely still wants to cuddle you, even though you're a mess ... as much as you try to push him away, he always comes back with more – you've given up trying to keep distance at this point. it's really only a matter of time now before he gets sick because of you. you make sure to do the same for him when he's sick, though ... so that's a good two and a half weeks spent together.

alhaitham

he makes you rest your head on his lap, while he reads to you –claiming that you need as much rest as you can. you're not going to complain, though ... it's comfortable, it's homely, and alhaitham is definitely being very sweet. just like the sweet and comforting honey lemon tea he just brewed for you. alhaitham definitely makes sure that you take all your medications on time, because prolonging this bout of illness won't do for anyone.

neuvillette

the first time neuvillette found out that you were sick, he didn't exactly understand what to do. a little clueless, even – dragons, or rather non-humans, just don't get sick like you did. nevertheless, after some advice from a few human friends, neuvillette got to work. his contacts offered speedy services ... imagine getting a discount at the city's clinic, as well as a basket full of fresh vegetables from the melusines! it makes you smile a little on the inside, knowing that neuvillette cares about you so much. hehe.

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[odyssean-flower]

The Chief Justice and the Worst Painter in Fontaine Chapter 2: The Wonders of Water

summary: It was supposed to be your time to relax and get in touch with your (extremely) buried creative side...but then your boss showed up. Masterpost here

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 (Bonus Scenes) || Chapter 4

On that first week back to work after your surreal weekend, Neuvillette didn’t make any contact with you. No visit to your desk, not even a note. You had expected it, of course. The Chief Justice was a busy man with his mind preoccupied with matters that were far more important than you. He had probably forgotten all about you. If you were honest, you were a little bit disappointed, but at least this would make for a fun story to tell, right?

Not that you told anyone about it. You weren’t even sure how to explain it.

On Friday, just as you were thinking of pursuing another hobby, preferably within the city, the Melusine who worked at the front desk, Sedene, delivered a note to you.

“Hello there, [Name],” the short Melusine said as she approached you, holding a folded piece of paper in her hand. “I have a message here from Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You almost thought you misheard. You looked around to see if there was anyone else near you, but you were the only one in the office. It was Friday, and everyone had vacated the Palais Mermonia as soon as the clock struck the end of the work day.

“Um…from Monsieur Neuvillette, you say?” you asked. “It’s really from him? And for me?”

“Who else would it be from?” Sedene tilted her head to the side. “He told me that you would be expecting it. Although, I was also surprised when he asked me to do this. I don’t think he’s ever delivered a handwritten note to a human before.”

Oh, great. Does that mean he’s actually expecting something from me? Your palms were getting sweaty, but you accepted the note. “Thank you, Sedene.”

After the Melusine left, you opened the note. It contained a location written in elegant handwriting. Neuvillette was asking you to go to the mountains north of the city.

Well, it seemed that your fate was sealed. So much for relaxing outside of work.

That was what you thought back then, but to your surprise, weekends with Neuvillette were actually pretty…enjoyable?

Every Friday, he would send a note with a location. You would go there with your painting supplies, greet him, and start painting. 

Although you still felt somewhat bitter about having to pick out a nice and respectable outfit even when you weren’t at work, you had to admit, Neuvillette really did know the best spots for painting.

The gray mountains capped with snow, the rolling fields of green dotted with flowers and rustic-looking houses, even the sinister and creepy-looking Elynas. For a lifelong city dweller like you, these sights were just as awe-inspiring and breathtaking as what you imagined the soaring peaks of Liyue or the lush green jungles of Sumeru to be like.

With these sceneries and your empty canvas before you, the urge to jump into the act of creation almost overpowered your nervousness.

There wasn't much talking done during these sessions, just you trying your best to depict what you saw with the tools you had at hand. Neuvillette would simply stand there, gazing off into the distance. Sometimes, you would sneak a glance at his profile to see if anything changed. It never did, or if it did, you were too slow to catch it. You never felt his gaze on you while you were painting, but it didn't feel like he was ignoring you. It felt more like he was trying to be considerate towards you as you were working.

It was hard to figure out how long you should take to finish your paintings. On one hand, you didn't want to take up too much of his time (nor your own), but on the other hand, taking too little time to take in the view and focus on your artwork felt disrespectable. You had to keep reminding yourself that this was your leisure time, so you should take however long you please, and anyway, Neuvillette was the one who always stayed there after you left. 

Once you were done your painting, you would show it to him, and he would compliment it. You didn't know where he was getting those compliments from and had the suspicion that his ability to appreciate art was tragically askew. But somehow, his words sounded genuine. Though you felt not a little pressure to improve each and every week, hearing his kind words made you walk into work with a little more spring in your step. 

Your weekends with Neuvillette weren't something you exactly looked forward to with anticipation, but they were never the worst part of your week.

It felt a bit dramatic to call it a double life…but it really did feel like one.

During the week, you were just one of many ordinary office workers diligently working at their desks, unnoticed by those above you, much less the Chief Justice (well, now that you knew that he knew your work, it suddenly felt like there was a heavy gaze upon you). But on the weekend, you were…well, an amateur painter who somehow got taken under the wing of Monsieur Neuvillette himself. 

You haven't told anyone about him, not even your best friend. Something about telling people about what you do on the weekends felt wrong, almost scandalous, even though it was nothing of the sort. You didn't want to deal with a barrage of questions, and what if those reporters from the Steambird found out? 

It was scary how something could become an unremarkable, normal part of a routine once you done it enough times. For you, it didn't take long before you were comfortable enough to sit with your legs spread slightly apart or mumble to yourself as you mixed colors. While you were still somewhat nervous dealing with him, and you definitely wouldn't call you and Neuvillette friends, you no longer felt like a small mouse trying its best to take up the least amount of space as possible in the fear of being noticed by the cat. 

As for your painting skills...well, improvement was a slow and steady thing.

Neuvillette was as inscrutable as ever, but you were beginning to learn how to read him.

The weather wasn't good today. It wasn't raining, but the skies were covered in gray clouds. Furthermore, Neuvillette was unhappy. You had no idea why, and he wasn't giving any explanation. You were ninety percent sure it had nothing to do with you, since he had already been like this when you got here. But still, you could feel waves of moroseness coming off from him, and it was affecting your work.

After hearing a small, nearly imperceptible sigh issue from his lips, you decided to pluck up the courage and ask him what was bothering him. Hey, I'm showing initiative here, aren't I? You attempted to give yourself a pep talk. 

"Um, excuse me, Monsieur Neuvillette," you begin, trying to inject the right amount of politeness and concern into your voice. "I can't help but notice that there is something on your mind..."

Neuvillette turned at your voice. There was surprise in his eyes, like he hadn't expected you to ask about him. 

"My apologies. I didn't know my mood was affecting you. Please, feel free to disregard me."

"Oh, it doesn't bother me at all," you half-lied. "I'm just worried that you're not enjoying yourself, sir."

"My enjoyment shouldn't be a cause of concern for you. You only need to focus on your painting while you are here."

"But I shouldn't be the only one having a good time. This is your rest day as well."

"Please, [Name], there is no need to worry about me. Your enjoyment is my--"

"Monsieur Neuvillette, please tell me what's bothering you! I really want to know!" you unconsciously raised your voice, then immediately clapped your hands to your mouth upon realizing what you had done. "Oh Archons, I'm so sorry."

There was a short silence after you said that.

Crap, crap, crap. 

He's going to push me into the waters and then I'm going to sink to the bottom and become fish food-

"It's the water here." His calm voice broke through your panicked thoughts. "It leaves much to be desired. I felt upset for bringing you to such an unfit place to paint."

"The...water?" you looked around. This weekend, Neuvillette took you to a small island near Romaritime Harbor. The water here was sapphire-blue and clear, just like the water everywhere in Fontaine. "I don't really see what's wrong with it..."

"Let me show you." A silver cup suddenly appeared in Neuvillette's hand. Where did that come from?

He scooped up some water in the cup and swirled it, then showed it to you. It looked like...extremely pure water.

"Do you see how different this water is from the location we visited last weekend? The scent, the texture, and..." he took a sip of the water before your incredulous eyes, then grimaced. "The taste. All of it is utterly subpar."

He then went on a rant about how water was different in different places. He must have been bottling this up, because he kept talking for about ten minutes. You had never seen him talk so animatedly before. It was honestly pretty refreshing, even though you had no idea what he was talking about. So, you just kept nodding and saying "uh huh" at the appropriate moments.

"Um...if you say so, sir. Although, I think this place is just as lovely as all the other places you've brought me to," you said after he finally concluded. 

He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. "No, not at all. You deserve only the best."

Your cheeks warmed. Did he really just say that!? 

"Next week, I will take you to a far more beautiful place," he said solemnly. He raised his hand awkwardly, hesitantly, then placed it on your shoulder. "I promise."

You could still feel the weight of his hand on his shoulder even after you returned to work on Monday.

[tresha24]

Just an idea

I can't help but wonder why no one thought about this.

Like imagine Wriothesley x reader where he meets the reader's family for the first time. Naturally given his past and current profession he's worried of them objecting to the relationship. Reader however assures him that their family doesn't really mind as long as they're happy.

Then comes the day when the meeting happens and just as reader predicted the family is super welcoming. Maybe have dad be a former mercenary/adventurer (someone with even more muscles and scars than Wriothesley). Whereas mom is someone who's always smiling and doesn't mind the chaos at home (I'm imagining parents like Akira and Sanae from Clannad. Or the Salvator parents from The Monstrous Duke's Adopted Daughter.). Plus maybe siblings who are always mischievous, who remind Wriothesley of Melusines.

Overall I want something where Wriothesley becomes part of a family where every day is fun and filled with warmth.

(I would write myself but my thoughts are always a mess so concentrating is really difficult.)

[sourpatchslayers]

Of course as a dragon, you live for eternity. But Neuvillette never knew that his eternity with Wriothesley had ended only just as it had begun.

A statue was built in the Fortress of Meropide in remembrance of him, with new lakelight lillies everyday.

The day the duke died, the storms in Fontaine began, and for fifteen years, they never let up.

Neuvillette knew he wasn’t coming back. He had lost many friends, lovers, and family over the course of his infinite life, but he couldn’t cope with this loss.

He expected to be confronted by the people of Fontaine about the situation years ago. But it never happened.

🌊…

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!”

The thunder and lightning ceased in a second. That voice, it was all too familiar, but it wasn’t his. It was the voice of a child. (9-10y for reference)

The image of his lover was pasted onto this child, and the storms in Fontaine calmed to a mere sprinkle.

The chief justice did not believe in reincarnation, but in that moment he would believe you if you told him that Melusines lived in liyue.

The child’s name was Rio, and he was an orphan.

The ludex “adopted” this child, taking care of him as any “father” would do.

He often thought about how similar the two are, The child and the duke.

The rain in Fontaine let up after a few months, children finally happy the hydro dragon wasn’t “crying” anymore.

🐺…(4-5 years later)

“Dad, why did you adopt me?” Rio asked as he picked at his dinner. “Finish your food, then ask questions.” The dragon huffed. “But why? I’m not special!” The teenager whined. “I’ll give you this; you know that statue we visit every morning before school?” The chief justice gave in. “Yeah? What about it?” Rio called in question. “You remind me of him.” Neuvillette finished, standing up to rinse his plate. “Thats it? I remind you of him? No secret backstory or anything?” The black haired child protested, to no avail as his father was already heading to bed.

Days passed, and the pestering never ceased. The dragon had years of patience, but it had seemingly vanished within a week. “But dad-“ “Enough, Rio. We will talk after dinner.” The ludex huffed as he began to eat his food.

Soon after, the hyperactive adolescent waited for his father to start explaining.

“There was a dragon, a very lonely dragon. He had lived for hundreds of years before he found a wolf. The wolf loved to get in trouble, and the dragon had to get him out of it. They were very close, and they had a lot of fun together.” The teenager didn’t understand what this meant in relation to why he was adopted, but he listened anyway.

“One day, the dragon realized he liked the wolf, but not how you like your friends. No, he loved the wolf, and wanted to be by his side forever. He told the wolf how he felt, and the wolf loved him too. They were happy together, but they had to keep their relationship a secret. A dragon and a wolf couldn’t be together, no, that was forbidden. So they kept each other company in their own privacy. Holding hands behind their backs, sneaking off together, and spending time when no one else was around.” At this point, Rio was invested. He started to wonder how his almost expressionless father could come up with such an imaginative story.

“After a while, the dragon started to wonder what it would be like if they weren’t a secret. What would people say? Would they hate them? Would they love them? He was happy, yes, but he wanted to be more than a secret. The wolf wanted the same, but he couldn’t lose his position to the public. He cared for the dragon deeply, much more than he cared about his job, and that’s why he couldn’t be seen with him. He was afraid people would treat the dragon differently, and he knew the dragon was sensitive.”

“A few weeks go by, and the two are happy. They still are secret, but are a little less shy about their public acts. One night, they get into a fight. The wolf was talking to another wolf, and the dragon didn’t like that. He told the wolf and the wolf got mad. He said the dragon was jealous, and the dragon admitted to it. The wolf yelled at the dragon, and told him they weren’t together so he shouldn’t be jealous. The dragon felt betrayed, and ran away, but the wolf was sorry. It was too late though, the dragon was gone.”

“It had been days before the wolf found the dragon, but the dragon didn’t want to see the wolf. The dragon repeated what the wolf said and turned away, causing the wolf to feel worse. The wolf apologized and said he didn’t mean it, and asked the dragon if they could be together, for real this time. The dragon was overjoyed, he immediately said yes and hugged the wolf.” A small tear rolled out of the Ludex’ eye before he could catch it, but before the teen could see it, he wiped it away.

“A few months after they became public, the wolf had a very big job to do for his people, and had to leave for a few weeks. The dragon understood and said goodbye and wished him good luck.”

“The wolf never came back. Days, then weeks, then months, then a year before the dragon heard anything. The wolf had finished the job and was heading home when he got… uhh…. shot by hunters. The dragon was devastated. He didn’t believe it at first, then he was furious. At the hunters and the wolf. He promised to make it home safe, so why had he gone and died? The dragon found and killed the hunters out of rage. Then the dragon was sad, so sad that the place where he lived was affected by his depression.”

“It rained so hard it could crack a wine glass, and the dragon didn’t care. The world would pay for its mistake. Years went by, and the dragon stopped feeling. Love, pain, sadness. The storms raged on but the dragon didn’t mind. The dragon couldn’t live anymore, he just survived.”

“Then one day, one of the few when he would go on walks to watch the storm, the dragon found a puppy. And when he saw that puppy, the storms relaxed into a soft rain. The puppy looked just like the wolf, sounded like him, smelt like him, just younger. Of course he knew it wasn’t the wolf, but he didn’t care. The puppy didn’t have any parents or friends, so he took him in.”

“As the puppy got older, the dragon realized how similar he was to the wolf. The dragon almost cried tears of joy the first time the puppy called him dad, but how could he cry when he couldn’t even feel? The dragon knew he couldn’t replace the wolf because that was his lover, but the puppy was his child.”

Neuvillette sat up from his slouched posture on the couch to watch his son’s reaction, only to find a tear streaked awe-struck face in return. “What is the matter?” The chief justice asked the teen. “You’re the dragon, and Wriothesley is the wolf, isn’t he? And I’m the puppy?” He hugged out before another waterfall of tears fell down his face. “How’d you know?” The Ludex smiled. (somewhat) “Dad you don’t try very hard to hide the fact that you are most definitely the ‘hydro dragon’ of Fontaine. And Wriothesley looks like a wolf, doesn’t he? Do I look like a wolf? No, I look like a dog, and young dogs are puppies!…..” The dragon watched his son lovingly ramble about anything and everything, hoping that his wolf could see him too.

authors note-

A lil short story I thunk up while looking at fanarts! 😋 angst. Story.

(I’m deeply obsessed with this ship to the point where it devours my every waking thought.)

[baeshijima]

To: Sophie

Subject: So, I was thinking of Neuvillette..

The weather where I live atm is like it's raining heavily. The cloudy grey sky, the strong winds... the rain, however, is missing (basically, it looks like it's going to rain). And it instantly made me think of: "hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry."

So, I bring you this:

Imagine being close to Monsieur Neuvillette. It was an unspoken rule that you followed strictly: walk Neuvillette home every evening. A rather odd rule, you sometimes think, but you know very well of how that (very pretty) man would overstay his work hours, drowning in a flood of documents. You had to basically drag him away and tuck him in bed. But you, of course, loved this little task. You remember the one time you met him late at night, and the horror upon finding that the last meal he had, was in fact, breakfast.

The way you dragged him home and prepped up a quick meal always comes as a reminder for Neuvillette to have his meals or he would worry you (and the melusines who see him work so hard throughout the day). Ever since that night, you would pack up some food and skip your way towards Palais Mermonia to share dinner with him in his office. It was routine at this point, Neuvillette would anticipate your arrival as soon as the clock struck eight.

However, he waited, and waited, but the sound of your fingers delicately hitting his door with three knocks, didn't come.

You had stayed back at your place of work to quickly wrap up what little was left of your task for the day, and time flew by. By the time you were walking home, you couldn't help but notice the way the sky darkened up with grey clouds, strong winds beginning to blow. It made you worry. You had always made note of how the skies were dark and the light rain that falls everytime you would find Neuvillette in his office, elegantly brooding at his workload. Everytime... it was like the skies were giving you a sign to go search for the Chief Justice. And so you picked up your pace, you had a little sea otter to feed you couldn't ignore your responsibility!

And so when you knocked on the door to Neuvillette's office, you expected the "come in" that you heard every time. You didn't hear it tonight. You stepped back, gazing over the place to check for any sign of people or melusines, but you didn't need to set up a search party consisting of just you (maybe add in a few Melusines, they dearly love their Chief Justice).

A click got your attention as you saw the doors to Neuvillette's office opened slowly, his eyes met yours and... he looked surprised.

"I brought us dinner!" Again. You always did, so why the surprise?

"I thought you were held up with something."

"Nothing would be more important than dinner with you!"

You swear you saw the clouds disperse through the window in the office. Truly, you must have some extra ordinary powers, being able to predict the mood of the beloved Iudex by the weather.

(This was a little long, wasn't it?) But man I still can't believe it– just a few days till Neuvillette becomes playable!! Too bad I can't pull for him...

Hoping you have a great week ahead!

🍀

clover nonnie. clover nonnie. cLOVER NONNIE.

OUURRGHHH THIS IS DOING SO MANY THINGS TO ME AND MY BRAIN AND OH MY GOSH I WAS SO GIDDY READING THIS AARRGHFKHDSKH

"Nothing would be more important than dinner with you!" MC DO U NOT SEE THE RING NEUVILLETTE HAS IN MIND THE MOMENT U SAID THOSE WORDS???? mans has scenarios running through his mind like theres no tmrw and will now mark dinner as the prime time 🐥

no but clover nonnie i loved this little scenario so much???? its such a cute idea and *clutches heart falls to the floor passes away*

[dxy-drxxm]

⭐ | COMMISSION VI : Hearth of the Pranks (Gone HORRIBLY Wrong)

It was the dead of night when Kunimitsu had the idea of taking this commission, and considering their client didn't bother with the details of what prank they want to enact on the guards, he had a couple in mind.

Although... Knowing him, Navina contemplated on letting him run wild, and especially his mean streak.

"So, you're telling me to basically cause a commotion in the main area of the city... And you're going to do what?"

See, Kuni's idea of a prank is basically to cause a riot of sorts to the guards. It wasn't as though they never had to deal with a few attacks here and there, he reasoned...

... but they know him better. After all, this wasn't Sumeru— and they sure as hell know that causing THAT would be a crime.

"What?" The wanderer grinned, seemingly confident in his decision. "I'm just going to give them a little trouble— not like I'm going to send literal ruin guards on them, dumbass."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," the informant said, their lips pursed to a frown. "But this is not Sumeru OR Mondstadt, Kuni! And unlike you, I wouldn't want to be put in trial for breaking the law!"

"Relax, you're worrying too much on the small details," he said, shushing them before blowing a raspberry to them. "Just cause some commotion outside, and I'll take care of the rest. It's not as though you can't scare a few guards, can you?"

"..."

A sigh left them.

"... Fine. However, you owe me one after I'm done!"

At exactly 2 in the morning, the guards patrolling around the premises of Fontaine began to hear something at the lower areas. It was hard to tell at first, as the sounds coming out of it was... Vaguely humane.

The melusines patrolling paused, their ears twitching as they began to listen it. After a while, one of them looked at the other in concern.

"It sounds like someone's in trouble..."

"Hm... That, or it could just be some monsters lurking in the alleyways."

"Perhaps. However, we should still check and see what it is. We wouldn't wish for the city to awaken to such troubles later."

...

Then, they could hear it.

The faint sound of a voice echoing around the empty town, the city that has fallen to slumber... With the melusines only being greeted with the sound of sobbing.

"Just how long... How long can I take it...?"

It was hard to discern what the voice reminded the melusines, but it sounded so... Far from one gender. It was a mix of many, and for them, it scared them.

Still, the melusines kept a straight face and decided to investigate the sound— the sobbing was enough to catch their attention, and the wind was urging them to investigate.

It was almost like the chill they feel from their own fur permeated through them— and it made things harder for them to focus.

Step after step, they had the other guards with them as well for the sake of numbers... In the case it was a criminal on the loose, they'd have the opportunity to apprehend them.

However, as they got close enough to the source, some of them stopped to let out a gasp.

The wind grew harsh, but when they were close enough, it died down.

And slowly, the melusines saw the figure's head turn, and—

—What followed after were screams.

The morning after, Kunimitsu took Navina out to their favorite cafe to get their reward. Of course, he had informed the commissioner beforehand and he knew that he was far enough to not hear or know what they've done. Still, he did handed them their reward.

As for Navina, however...

"Ugh, imagine if the melusines found out about it being me..."

"Pfft, you'll be fine. I told you it'll work."

"It'll work, my ass— you didn't do shit but watch as they screamed and ran off to archon knows where!"

"And? A little scare won't hurt them."

Kunimitsu laughs at the sight of the informant, who scoffs and smacks his arm.

"I hate you, asshole," they grumbled, biting onto the food he bought them. "You better sleep with one eye open later."

"Or what? Are you going to try and scare me as well?" He taunted, making them more annoyed.

...

He won't admit it to their face, though, but the sight of the abomination worth nothing of words is a suitable... 'prank' for him.

What? It's not like they were told to make it harmless, so he wanted to try something that'll scar anyone that was patrolling that night.

And it seems as though it worked— much to his amusement, and to their annoyance.

"Nah, I'd drag your ass outside and scare you like how the melusines got scared of me."

Now it was his turn to cough and glare.

"You—!"

... actually, scratch that— maybe it was better for a prank to be specified as harmless. For the sake of Fontaine's future horror stories.

[rowavolo]

Hi! Okay, for the music themed asks, for Neuv, do Rock, Musicals, and Gaming tracks. For Cap, Folk and Jazz!

WAVES HI THERE!!!!!!!! BITES YOU EIGHT TRILLION TIMES !!!! MY STINKY !!!!!!! ILY!!!!

Neuvillette -

2. Rock — What's something you and your f/o are proud of each other for?

I'd be very proud of him for adapting so well to human life and behaviours and the little intricacies of socialisation, as well as his crazy good memory!!

I think he'd be proud of me every time i left the house without having some form of meltdown, or made it through a conversation without hiding behind him skdjfhjksfd,, no but fr he probably admires my general drive to sort of Keep Going

9. Musicals — What colors/sounds/scents remind you and your f/o of one another?

He'd associate me with orange, first and foremost (99.9% because of my hair), but secondarily, purple and turquoise. Not for any sentimental reason, but because the Melusines found out that those are my favourite colours and remind him like eight times a week kjshdfjkdfs -- he doesn't seem like the type to have much of a crossover between certain senses. I actually imagine him to have a pretty strong case of aphantasia, so those links just don't come naturally to him - because of this, he's also an extremely literal person. I'm to be associated with the general commotion i kick up whenever i'm nearby (see previous post), but also the chatter of overexcited melusines and imitations of the little chirps and purrs they make.

I associate him with blues, whites and that tarnished sort of gold colour he wears. Maybe a cloudy sort of grey. He's got a snake scale sort of texture but also a very smooth soft one. I associate him with the sound of a clock and work being done at a desk, the smell of rain, and the tapping of his cane.

10. Gaming tracks — What is a core memory or a memory you will never forget with your f/o?

Core memories would probably include how we met (which mostly just vibes to me as like. i testified in a trial as a witness or whatever and Freaked It(tm) and he called for a recess and comforted me n was like nice.

Outside of that, I imagine him introducing me to the Melusines as his partner for the first time was also a very memorable moment for us <3

Capitano

3. Folk — What's something funny your f/o has done or said, or a moment that has made you laugh?

I imagine he and I both have these very dry senses of humour, and our 'back and forth' can be a little confusing to those who aren't familiar. One that always gets me is when i make him carry something of mine that's very outwardly soft and kind of cutesy, so it clashes horribly with his whole dark-and-brooding aesthetic.

though, one piece of one of my fics does come to mind as being pretty amusing/silly

'

"If you were a fruit product," Rowan began the sentence as if it were an entirely normal subject to hop to. Capitano patiently awaited the rest of it as Rowan paused to think for a moment. "I think you'd be pear cider." 

"You'd be applesauce." Capitano offered in return - they'd been together long enough for him to be able to keep up with Rowan's odd subject-hops and ways of expressing affection. 

"Applesauce?!" Rowan blinked and set a hand on his chest in mock-offence. "I wanted to be something cool, like a jam, or-or a candy! Not baby food." 

"You like applesauce." Capitano observed simply. 

"Okay. Yeah. True, I guess." Rowan's cheeks flushed. "Guilty as charged. But I'm changing your answer to 'raisins' instead." 

"I see." Capitano reached over to retrieve the last few items from the bag so he could put them away. 

"You're s'posed to be upset about that, by the way." Rowan tipped his chin up as he watched the Harbinger mill around the kitchen silently. 

"I like raisins." Capitano said, as he placed a jar of chutney in one of the cupboards. 

"Well I don't!" Rowan burst out indignantly. "They're yucky and icky and squishy and gross and I hate them." While his words were angry, his tone bordered more on joking. 

"You hate me?" Capitano turned to Rowan and tilted his head to the side - his helmet still remained firmly on, as it often did for the first few hours after he arrived home after a long stretch of time spent away on missions. 

"Yep. Sorry, you need to find a new catboy to look after your cabin." Rowan shrugged in a nonchalant manner. 

"I'll have Pantalone post an advertisement." Capitano took the joke in stride, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips at his partner's familiar antics. 

"Wait, no." Rowan began to backpedal immediately. "No no no. No." He scrunched up his face and grabbed onto the lapels of Capitano's coat, giving them a firm tug. "I'm territorial. You can't get a new catboy. Or girl. Or anything." 

Capitano let out a low puff of amusement and stepped a little closer to Rowan, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him flush against his chest.

'

it's just fun and soft and domestic and silly and i like it <3

5. Jazz — What are some sweet or nice nicknames you and your f/o have for one another?

I headcanon Capitano's 'real' name to be Maleko, so on soft occasions i'd possibly call him 'eko', but usually it's just 'Cap', 'Capi' 'Tano' or some variation thereof.

I imagine he tends to call me things like 'cub' or 'pup' just because of My Vibes, but another one he's fond of is 'bambi' (tbh i made the story (or some variation thereof) canon in my version of teyvat simply because i like the nickname so much sfhkjdfsnk

[margridarnauds]

angel-starbeam replied to your post: Gotta love how Tumblr buys into Victorian...

Elaborate please.

I’m not sure if I’m ultimately elaborating or just tossing word vomit into the void here, but here goes nothing!

Obviously, this is dealing more with the specific phenomenon that I’ve noticed re: posts about Europe being essentially unwashed savages while everywhere else was going through some sort of golden age. Which! Around the world, people were doing cool things. Obviously, discussing the events of, say, the Golden Age of Islam or the achievements of the Aztecs and Mayans are important, especially when it comes to combatting Eurocentrism in the study of history.

But, at the same time, there’s absolutely no need to do that while throwing the Middle Ages under the bus, and it’s right next to the idea that somehow all knowledge of the ancient world died after some singular burning of the Library of Alexandria and oh, how painful, we all had to go through the DARK AGES. (Which. No one dealing with the field calls it “The Dark Ages.” Because it wasn’t.) 

Sanitation wasn’t AS GOOD as practiced in, say, the times of the Romans, depending on where you are in Europe and in what time during the nearly thousand years that we call the Middle Ages you’re situated in. (I repeat: A THOUSAND YEARS. THE ENTIRE CONTINENT. Like, that would be the same as lumping people in the present with people who lived in the 11th century and not taking into account regional diversity. It’d almost be like, you know, completely generalizing a 3000 year old civilization. I mean, who would even do that?)Because the Romans had aqueducts all over the place and were meticulous about their cleaning. (Though they also used a little sponge on a stick to wipe themselves with after going to the bathroom.) But, if you’re in one of the Nordic countries during this time, you’re going to have a wash day, and we know they washed their faces every morning. (The idea that they cleansed themselves without washing the bowl is something that has been heavily debated, but the general consensus I’ve personally seen is “they washed it in-between cleanings”.) We have Anglo-Saxon writers talking about the Vikings and essentially going, “Stupid Norsemen with their fancy hair and their wash days and their jewelry, looting our country, running off with our women. What do they have that we don’t?” 

Around the rest of Europe, we know that the common people had communal baths and, for the nobles, they would have their own individual baths, occasionally using it as a source of bonding (much like the Romans did, when they would conduct business together). We get a lovely account of Charlemagne that says that, “he would invite not only his sons to bathe with him, but his nobles and friends as well, and occasionally even a crowd of attendants and bodyguards, so that sometimes a hundred men or more would be in the water together.” And I’ll take this one moment to also mention that one of the most famous legends of the Middle Ages, Melusine, literally revolves around a woman being left in the privacy of her bath as one of the terms of her marriage (which is then broken. Which then causes problems. Because you don’t break prohibitions like that when it comes to marriages in medieval literature. It never ends well.)

And, of course, since we’re not just talking hygiene, but a general outlook on culture, which is such a BROAD category as far as talking “sophistication” and “advancement”, I will remind whoever might be willing to read this that medieval manuscripts and stained glass windows are two of the things we IMMEDIATELY spring to when we think “The Middle Ages” and both of them are time consuming, meticulous activities. To give a hint: As an amateur stained glass artist, I can spend probably about 10 hours non-stop on a project of about 40-60 pieces, supposing I already had the glass on hand and a pattern in place. That involves cutting the design out, tracing it in the glass, labelling it, cutting the glass out, getting it sawed to size, foiling it, and then sautering it. The pieces you see in a cathedral, like at Chartres? 

Those are THOUSANDS of pieces, most of which was made in an approximately 35 year period from about 1200-1235. Like, Chartres originally had 176 glass WINDOWS. I can’t even begin to imagine it. And, also. You’re working with GLASS. AKA “One wrong move and you will feel the pain of a thousand cuts.” Ask a stained glass artist. They’ll have stories. And when I’m working, I’m working with the advantage of modern equipment to cut the glass out. And the one thing they did at Chartres that I still can’t do? Painting. So, not only did those pieces of glass have to be perfectly cut and put into place, but THEN they had to be painted. The folds in the robes, the faces on the angels and the saints, the detailing along the edges...all that stuff is painted on. And with a lot of that glass? We can’t replicate those colors anymore. And, I mean, Chartres wasn’t the ONLY cathedral with stained glass in Europe at the time, just probably the best surviving one of the group. 

And, of course, in terms of manuscripts... 

So, yeah, Europe was a “cultural backwater” that was creating breathtaking works of art that took DECADES to create. And, of course, all of this relies on the idea of “Europe” and “The rest of the world’ being isolated which SURPRISE they weren’t. Like, you’ve got Greek and Roman books going to the Middle East, then being translated, then having Arabic natural philosophers working with the ideas and improving on them, then them being brought back to Europe  and translated, usually into Latin because it was the language of the academics and the learned AKA the only ones who were rich enough to buy this type of thing. You’ve got Arabic writers traveling around the place, writing about what they’ve seen, like Ahmad ibn Fadlan. And of course up until Isabella and Ferdinand commit genocide during the Reconquista, you’ve got the Moors in Spain. So, while the majority population of Europe was what we’d call white today, to just lump it all together into a homogenized group to prop up another location really only serves to, for want of a more academic term, shit on EVERYONE ELSE who was in Europe at the time. Like, it’s not just inaccurate, it’s buying into the idea propagated by white supremacists that the face of the Middle Ages was a bunch of white men. 

Alright, now that I’ve probably spent way too long on this part of the rant, onto the “Victorian propaganda”. And, really, I’m being overly harsh on the Victorians here, because the Renaissance (lit. “Rebirth) and the Enlightenment’s also to blame and really set the stage, posturing themselves as the successors to Greek and Roman thought after centuries of darkness. “Enlightenment” - “Dark Ages”, the idea is kind of in the words used to describe them. Which completely ignores the long, long history of natural and other forms of philosophy in the Middle Ages that made it possible for Voltaire, Descartes and co. to so much as wipe their noses. The Middle Ages becomes a time of religion and superstition, not like our time, oh no, we’re above that. We’re Free Thinkers™. This is also where we get the idea of “Gothic” architecture being used to describe medieval architecture, because OH MY GOD HOW BARBARIC. IT’S NOT GREEK. (Yes, they were the equivalent of those fifteen year olds who post melancholy comments on YouTube videos of 60s songs about how “Teens today don’t understand REAL music.) And what’s the classic setting for the 18th century gothic novel? A medieval castle or an abbey, filled with leftovers from the barbaric past, focusing on heightened emotions and the supernatural, as opposed to the focus on reason that characterized the era, especially as exemplified by the French Revolution which attempted to turn rational ideals into political reality. (Whether they succeeded or not, and if they didn’t then WOULD they have if not for *insert factor here* is another discussion altogether and would probably cost me my life.)

That being said, the term would become popularized during the 19th century, so I’m rolling with that. 

But, the Victorians brought one MAJOR development that would kind of determine how ideas of race and civilization would be dealt with for many, many years, Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. And, as soon as the book hits, people start talking about it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And here, we’re definitely dealing with the UGLY. 

“This aggressive colonial competition at the end of the century drew support from supposedly scientific and biological ideas about racial superiority and inferiority. Darwin’s Descent of Man suggested a graduated evolutionary chain of development. It seemed to sanction ideas of ‘primitive’ peoples supposedly lower on the evolutionary scale than the white Europeans who were invariably presented as the model of evolved civilisation.”

Now, obviously, this idea was used first and foremost to deal with race. BUT if white Europeans are more “evolved” then they have to have evolved from something, and the Middle Ages were convenient to this image, especially when the Enlightenment had already done a decent job of beginning to distort the record. If humans were animals, descended from primates, then, by this manner of thinking, the history of humanity is evolution in action, with the weak being weeded out by the strong and the humanity of centuries past being obviously less involved than the humanity of the present. As Lewis Henry Morgan wrote, “It can now be asserted upon convincing evidence that savagery preceded barbarism in all the tribes of mankind, as barbarism is known to have preceded civilization.” It’s a very convenient, nice little ladder that they’ve created there, and it’s one that conveniently throws anyone who’s not a white Victorian male under the bus.

I wouldn’t say that Darwinism necessarily created anything NEW in terms of dealing with Middle Ages, but it did provide confirmation to Victorian males that they were The Pinnacle of Evolution and that the human race is moving in a grand new direction that will eventually eliminate Lesser Societies (gee, I wonder how THAT theory could be used and abused.) And, of course, with Darwinism, you have the debate between science and religion, the Middle Ages being heavily associated with religion...it’s a mess. 

However, in all fairness to the 19th century, these ideas weren’t NECESSARILY the only belief in vogue, as some people also viewed the Middle Ages through a highly nostalgic lens, looking back at a simpler time, before the Enlightenment. “Many of the qualities the Romantics saw in the period – elevation of faith over rationalism; devotion to hierarchy, tradition, and authority; emphasis on communal rather than individual artistic and intellectual achievement – were the same as those recognized by Renaissance and Enlightenment thinkers, only viewed in positive rather than negative terms, prompted by rejection of modernity, religious revival, or some combination of the two.” This was a period of time that was still dealing with the CATACLYSMIC affects of the French Revolution a century before. Which is also why so many white supremacists like to wank over it. Because it reminds them of a happier, nicer time with strict gender roles and little cultural diversity. (NEWSFLASH ASSHOLES: THAT ISN’T WHAT HAPPENED. AT ALL. FUCK OUT OF MY FIELD. but i digress) 

(Okay, technically this comes from 1900, so not a 19th century painting, but STILL Victorian.)

 Which also gives you a harsh BACKLASH, as people start to rebut that by painting the Middle Ages as a period where science was sacrificed to religion, most notably in the White-Draper Conflict thesis, which, suffice it to say, is INSANELY simplistic. And you’ve got people like Auguste Comte who expressed a high regard for both the Middle Ages AND Darwin in his creation of Positivism, which earned him some amount of scorn, such as when Auguste Blanqui wrote, “These blind systematisers’ mania for progress regardless of what happens even leads them to indict, as a reactionary movement and negative impulse, the renaissance of Greco-Latin letters, and according to them this victory over the loathsome works of the Middle Ages was a backwards step.” You’d almost get the idea he didn’t like it. This is also, incidentally, where we get the idea that everyone in the Middle Ages was rolling around, believing that the Earth was flat. Because of course everyone in the Middle Ages was a religious nut. (Note: I’m saying this as an atheist.) 

So, really, there’s a heavy amount of religion VS science, romanticism VS rationalism, etc. 

Really, and this is my own personal opinion/open-ended question that I’m not really sure can ever be answered, any take on “civilized” and “uncivilized” or any real barometer for advancement of cultures is going to be flawed, because ultimately what are you using as your yardstick? Are we really that far up the imperialism ass still that we’re judging historical cultures by how closely they resemble us, with everyone else being “primitives”, or, to use the language of the God-awful Tumblr post, a “cultural backwater”? Does it have to be in ALL areas, or just in a few? If a civilization practices human sacrifice on a massive scale but builds some awesome monuments, do they get the “more civilized than the others” stamp? Hey, at least they had running water! What about if they give rape the death penalty, but only if it’s a free woman? What standards of living do they have to have to make the cut? Is there a minimal limit for monuments, and if so, how are we judging what a monument is?

We all want to show that our pet favorites are “advanced,” that they did marvelous things so much better than everywhere else, but I’m not sure anyone’s willing to have the conversation on what “better” or “advanced” mean in this instance. 

Tl;dr: The Middle Ages were not as filthy as they’ve been made out to be, they DID produce cultural artifacts of great beauty, and do we really want to use descriptions of “cultural backwaters” and “progress” and “advancement” that rely heavily on notions popularized during the 18th and 19th centuries as a means of justifying imperialism? Especially when said notion promotes the idea, POPULARIZED BY WHITE SUPREMACISTS, that the Middle Ages in Europe were populated by a homogenous white population? Like, is that the hill you really want to die on, Tumblr? Is it really? 

[saintheartwing]

Soft Hands

Dr. W.D Gaster wasn't sure why he told 1-S and 2-P what he did. But one question about humans and monsters led to another, and before he knew it, he was recalling the one time he met a human. The one time his interaction with the species wasn't tainted by blood, war, anxiety or fear. A moment in time he still, to this day, doesn't understand. And wishes that he did...

==========================================

W.D Gaster regretted telling 1-S and 2-P what he had.

1-S had talked about learning how to dodge to his brother, the tubby skeleton speaking quietly and softly to his brother in the cell about how humans fought, and about how their creator had said humans did what they did to monsters for one simple reason...they were stronger, and killing monsters benefited them. It was just kill or be killed. And Subject P had remembered the doctor speaking about the war between monsters and humans.

And so a question had popped out of 2-P's mouth. And it had been a question Gaster remembered asking his ownparents, back when he had been Subject P's age, looking so, SO much like P did now...

"Had humans always been like that?"

"No, not always." Gaster found himself answering automatically. He'd flinched at this, cringing a bit, realizing he had just opened the door to the curious twosome to ask even more questions, 1-S's voice rising out from the cell the two were within. Gaster had to look away from the snazzy metal clipboard he'd been writing on to look at the two as 1-S's short framed-form rose up from off the plain blanket he'd been lying down on.

"Oh really?" 1-S inquired. "So they didn't always want to kill monsters? Does that mean they liked you at some point?"

"Not exa-" Dr. Gaster now looked flustered. He looked away slightly, and Sans knew, he KNEW that look on the doctor's cracked face. The way the lines that ran up from his left and right eye would somehow shake, the faint crease on his features always gave away the fact he had been close to saying something juicy, and his natures were fighting it out. There was the inner scientist in Gaster who so badly WANTED to talk about the strange, almost unknowable creature that was "Man", that wanted P and S to know about everything they were capable of so they could be prepared, be ready...to kill, or be killed, if the need arose. Then there was their captor, who didn't want them to know too much, to know enough to hurt him, to use against him, to...feel.

Some part of S knew that, at one point, Gaster had cared about them.

Perhaps he'd even loved them.

But he had known that if he kept caring, kept loving, he couldn't hurt them. And for "everyone else's sake"...to "do what he had to, what people need me to do"...he had to distance himself. Some part of S knew that.

And despised Gaster for it.

Did Gaster not want to tell them because talking about the time before all this, before monsters and humans had fought, was a time that belonged to a different Gaster? A softer, kinder one? That if he talked too much about them, admitted to him, he might start to feel again? To care again? Subject S knew Gaster had lost friends and family, that much he'd picked up on from their talks about the war, as did P. Was Gaster just determined to talk about that life as little as possible so he wouldn't have to remind himself of what it meant to feel for others?

Or maybe he just didn't want to talk because...yes, maybe that was it.

Gaster was a coward. S knew this. Gaster had almost screamed at Subject P when P had tried to say that maybe it wasn't Gaster's fault his kind had died off so horribly the way they had in the war. That Gaster, being so young, couldn't have done anything to fight the humans off, that if was on THEM for fighting and killing to begin with, and Gaster couldn't cope with that, having blamed himself for so long.

Perhaps he just didn't want to feel like a coward again.

"...I don't think you could understand." Gaster muttered out.

"Well...try us!" P insisted. "Did the humans ever live together with monsters?"

Gaster actually chuckled dryly at this. "Live together"? A bit of a stretch." He sighed, and for a moment, his tone became wistful. Softer.

"In the old days, the large towns and cities of our realms had dividing lines of territory. On those lines, there were other towns and cities, mutually shared by monsters. Nobody was really "living together". Though they may have passed each other on the street, or bought from the same market or shops, visited the same smiths and book stores and stood under the same rain and the same clouds...no. They didn't live together. Not in public at any rate. Such an idea would be...unthinkable. After all, monsters were...well...monsters." Gaster chuckled again, shaking his head.

"Creepy or terrifying or strange. What people do not know, they often fear. Then again, there is also some who have an attraction to the unknown, and sometimes they saw...creatures they could warm up to in us."

"Like what?" S wanted to know. Now he was intrigued. Gaster's scientist side had won over. The need to explain, to talk about all he knew, to share his knowledge had won over the fear of dredging up old wounds and the worry of "am I telling them too much". He was an eager teacher who'd just needed a little push.

"Well, the Temmie race, of course. They were furry, adorable, and they had a very...charmingly quaint way of speaking." Gaster sighed, adjusting the glasses he wore atop his bony, skeletal head. "You might have seen a picture of them on that "Tem Flakes" box you got when you got into my office." He added.

"Ohhh, THOSE things!" P's eyes were going all starry, a beaming expression on his face. "They are so, so cuuute! The little tails, and the floppy ears and the tiny little noses!"

"Yes, humans found them similar to "cats". I suppose humans have more...mercy in them for creatures that are cute and cuddly and similar to creatures they keep as pets. If a monster was small and adorable and young, a human tended to be more...sympathetic. A matter of simple "herd instinct", I imagine." Dr. Gaster said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Young life tends to make humans go all...cuddly." He remarked.

It was true. He'd seen it in quite a lot of the animes and cartoons that his dear friend Alphys had shown him. Whenever a baby or a puppy or a kitten or small animal was on the screen, they were always being fawned over. Had he been able to keep 1-S and 2-P from aging, maybe he could have snuck them across the barrier as hidden adorable weapons that no human would ever suspect of being a threat. After all, something so tiny and soft who could barely fit your finger in their hand would melt the heart of just about anyone. You'd NEVER hit an infant.

"And there were some humans who had an attraction to a few of the monsters that were more...human in appearance? Some monsters had very human traits, like a humanoid upper or lower body. In fact, the melusine, or "merpeople" race had charmed over quite a lot of humans."

"Mer-whuh?" 1-S wanted to know. "Who're they?"

"They look rather much like fishy people. Sailors had often told of the majesty of the mermaids, and it wasn't uncommon at all to see people tilting their heads to watch these fine specimens walking down the road." Gaster chuckled as he took off his glasses, cleaning them with a napkin from his pocket. "Their hair would be a beautiful crimson or scarlet, so many shades of red, with scales that had such a fascinating blend of blue. The way the sun would gleam off their scaly bodies was a thing of beauty indeed. An exotic beauty that would entrance many a human. Sometimes they even fell in love. That's where the legend of "The Little Mermaid" came from. I used to love reading that story." He added, trailing off.

Oh yes, he used to love reading it. The mermaid had given up so much to be with the human, and for a while, the human prince had loved her too. And it had seemed, at first, that they WOULD be together. Yes, getting there had hurt the mermaid greatly. Hurt the monster greatly. But they were in love, and happy...

And then that had changed when the prince had married the human princess instead, believing the princess, not the mermaid, had saved his life those years ago.

Back then, he'd tried to take some comfort in the knowledge that the little mermaid, though she had died, had gained an immortal soul, and had become a beautiful spirit who'd one day rise up into the "Kingdom of God". That at least she'd not turned to nothing but seafoam, and had gotten a chance at an even greater happiness. Yet looking back at it...he felt angry that she'd STILL, after all she'd endured, have to do good deeds for humans for 3 centuries.

Hadn't she suffered enough?

"Did you ever meet any...nice humans?" 2-P asked. "Were there any where you lived?"

Gaster then flinched a bit, and 1-S could tell from the look on his face that yes. Yes, he HAD met nice humans. But even that hadn't been good.

"...I remember one in particular." Gaster finally said.

He'd been racing down the street, carrying several library books, intent on returning them. He didn't want to get in trouble, after all. He'd had on his usual overlong, grey and dark grey sweater, the adorable red scarf, the big glasses, too huge for his face. Panting heavily, he'd been tearing down the cobblestone road of the town, sandal-clad feet somewhat slipping about. "OOOF! C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" He murmured, the books bouncing about in his arms. He had to get there in 9 minutes or it'd be closed and he'd have to pay a fine!

The sunlight was piercing through patches of clouds above, the humans in this section of town giving him the occasional look. Some found him a little cute, no doubt, since he was a "baby bones", a child skelly. Others found it unsettling, freakish, muttering the curse "revenant" under their breath, for they, like many, believed that skeleton monsters came from dead humans. An idea that did have some merit, for the only other way for skeleton monsters to be made came from cutting out pieces of their own body to create more, and since normal monsters didn't HAVE skeletons, well...where hadthe first skeleton monsters arisen from? And others still just...didn't care. They had their own troubles and were busy with other things clouding their mind like the skies above were clouding up.

And that was when he rounded the corner, just a few dozen feet from the library...and smacked headlong into a human.

"OUCH!" They collapsed onto the sidewalk below, people nearby stopping. Some looked concerned for both, others only worried about the human, a few particularly unpleasant people sniggering as the human girl Gaster had ran into moaned. "Heyyy!" She said, adjusting the thick glasses that she wore. "Watch where you're going!" She told him in an aggravated voice, Gaster blushing nervously, their books all sprayed out around them. "You made me drop my library books!"

"S-Sorry, sorry!" Gaster apologized as he began scrambling to pick them all up so he could give hers back and pluck his own up. Best to take care of hers first...he didn't want people to think he was inconsiderate. "H-Here, I'll...I'll pick them up for you!"

"Can't you be more careful, I mean...really..." The human girl muttered. She was wearing a shirt that was purplish in color, with scraggly pants. Based on her slightly holey shoes, the somewhat cloudy glasses, and the frizzled, rather spiky mess of brown hair she had atop her head, she wasn't very well-to-do. She pushed the glasses up a bit on her somewhat sharp nose, her thick eyebrows raised a little as she reached down to pluck up one of her own books.

And as she did so, her hand touched his as he reached for the same.

Absolute silence reigned. Gaster nervously gulped, for he realized she was now slightly gripping his bony hand, and she was staring right into his eyes. Eyes so very teal in color, so...soft. Her mouth was slightly agape, people murmuring and whispering as Gaster stared back, confused by the expression on her face.

"What is it?" He asked. "Your, um...your hand is...on mine...could you-" He began to say.

"Your HAND." She whispered out.

"Yes?"

"It's...fuzzy. It's so...soft." She murmured, looking down at it, lifting it up, feeling over it with her own hands, her eyes getting wider. "Like...it's like the hair on a comfrey leaf." She muttered out. "I thought it would be hard and bony but...its so fuzzy. It's...nice."

She held his hand, looking at it for a long time, then at him. He stared back into her, and as she held it there, the other humans looking at each other, confused, a bit surprised, Gaster thought he saw the girl crying, and trying to hold it back in her eyes. She let his hand go, picking up the last of her books and quickly walked away, leaving Gaster's books in a small pile right in front of him.

He would never see her again, but he would remember how she'd held his hand. How she'd felt over the soft texture of his bones. How surprised she'd been to feel it, and he remembered how...oddly warm and soft human hands could be.

Hands.

...why had she cared so much that his hands were so...soft?

He just didn't understand humans sometimes.

"Humans are just...strange." He finally said. "Years of study and even I barely know anything. And honestly, sometimes...I don't think THEY know anything about themselves."

With that, he left them alone, heading back to his office, putting his hands in the pockets of his white labcoat, softly feeling over the textures of his own palm...

And the tiny, tiny little hairs they had.

Author’s Note:

There's been plenty of stories showing the crueler and more sadistic side of Gaster from Zarla's "Handplates" tales. I wanted this story to show a more...introspective side of him, and a peek into his younger life. Since Zarla tries to make the interactions with monsters and humans more realistic I thought I'd show a more realistic reaction, a realistic moment in time.

Life is made up of little moments like this. Whether the human actually had her mind changed about monsters or not, well...that wasn't really the focus. I really just wanted to try and capture a piece of time, a mood, a fleeting part of Gaster's life where, for the tiniest moment, two hands both reached into the expanse of a beautiful and magical world.

But if you want to know whether I think the human DID change her mind, well...those who've read my previous work maaaay recognize how...familiar the human's description seems.

[odyssean-flower]

Fjgjgj. So many thoughts after his teaser and official info—

Him refraining from ever forming personal relationships yet offering to travel with us bc we are not from Fontaine (or Teyvat)??? This info has me in a chokehold!!

Smiling with the Melusines???? Aaahhhhh fjfjgjkg

Also, his last name being Neuvillette??? Hehe imagine we’re the only ones privy to first name privilege.

So many thoughts with all this info for writing purposes~

God 4.1 cant come soon enough i need to know his full loreeeeeeeeee

The not having personal relationships with people in fontaine reminds of a fic i scrapped where the reader is a traveler from another nation. maybe i could work on it again

imagine if he falls in love with someone fontainian but has to deal with the overwhelming guilt and knowledge that they will inevitably be swallowed up by the waters just like everyone else!!!!!!!! the drama!

Although poor neuvillette must be feeling so lonely! It doesnt seem like he and furina hang out outside of work so he's got no one to confide in about his worries :(

His smile!!! I melted when he smiled at that melusine! siri how do i become a melusine

and yeah i've been wondering if neuvillette is actually his surname instead of first name for a while now. it's kind of funny imagining him with a first and last name. Did he choose to have a surname to fit in with humans? imagine his first name being a generic french name like jean or henri or something. Ooh boy if only we have first name privileges...heh heh...