#it's not an archon quest but the tag is meant to be a spoiler tag too so yeye

[dourpeep]

I don't know if you've done the interlude yet but oh my god??????? I was not prepared????? They made me like Scara and I'm ready to fight for this funky lil dude now. Hope you're doing well in any case!

YES I just finished it!

I'll put my thoughts below on this matter--warning, 3.3 interlude spoilers below!

Though this wasn't what I expected, I do like this approach quite a bit. While it's not the "once bad, always bad" thing that some people (my sibling) was expecting, I think that this was the best approach to the subject of the Wanderer 'turning' good, or at least in the sense of being a playable character and no longer the antagonist.

Although he had erased his existence that lead to him going down the path of Scaramouche--meeting and befriending Niwa, holding the burden of taking the device into the Mikage Furnace, the child from Tatarasuna, the three betrayals--as well as his experiences as the 6th Harbinger, he still isn't a bad person. And even though he himself didn't remember what happened until gaining his memories and emotions from before back, he was going through his own retribution.

So even though no one besides the Traveler, Paimon, Lesser Lord Kusanali, and himself remember who he was, he must continue on with the reminder of what he has done as well as the residual guilt. To hold that heavy of a burden, to know that despite everything you did that nothing really changed is his own punishment for himself.

Also not to mention the implications that his dear friends suffered without him now. While Niwa's situation isn't so much changed, the child's has been and part of me wonders if he realizes that as well.

After all, the child was living alone with some help now and then from neighbors until Scaramouche came along. If anything, that meant that the little boy had the comfort of a friend and a family after losing so much before his inevitable death.

Then going off that, he technically didn't go off scot free like it's assumed since he is insistent that he takes the fall for what happened with the Raiden Gokaden. I think that's a pretty significant thing.

ALSO ALSO I like that he's still not a good person. He understands that he fucked up and that he was a bad person and the Traveler, while they have a sort of shaky friendship with him now, but they don't consider him to be a good person, just changed. Or perhaps, he's now really accepted himself to be who he is instead of running from it. I mean, we can see that he's still just as abrasive as ever from his voicelines, though with a little bit of a softer edge.

I think that might just be because he's letting the Traveler in.

The promise of some sort of friendship where he is judged not for how he pretends to be, but for who he is and was seems to be right up his alley as being desirable. That whole bit of playfulness--the "You won't need to run into me again until you (Paimon) comes up with an ugly nickname"?

Anyway I'm a sentimental fool who has a sentimental attachment to the Wanderer and his lore because he's what really sparked my interest in writing again after nearly a decade ehe

I got off topic, hopefully this all provides a little insight into my thoughts, as messy as it may be nodnod

[vivalabunbun]

When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?

Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.

Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)

Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious

Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!

How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.

The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.

However, he himself is to blame. 

A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.

A true reflection of his current solitude. 

The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance. 

The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished. 

He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him. 

Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.

Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?

A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content. 

As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.

Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.

Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric. 

He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.

A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches. 

The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.

A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk. 

Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid. 

Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.

Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence. 

It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises. 

It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze. 

The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent. 

And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.

Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk. 

–

Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.

The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.

That small human again. 

Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.

A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes. 

“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out. 

His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.

Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.

A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through. 

Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall. 

The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.

The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon. 

“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window. 

Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.

Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.

However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society. 

So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.

“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!” 

Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown. 

Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.

“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you. 

A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well. 

Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.

It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.

Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen. 

Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.

One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.

A sight he’s come to expect now. 

Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.

Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well. 

If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting. 

“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.” 

The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.  

“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug. 

It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth. 

“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.

“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up. 

This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.

As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.

“Then what do you like?”

Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.

The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book. 

It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation. 

“Water, spring water.”

“Huh?”

Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable. 

“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.” 

The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice.  The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin. 

Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier. 

It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished. 

But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well. 

The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him. 

–

The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.

Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing. 

That tomorrow he had come to expect never came. 

Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.

These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut. 

Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.

However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former. 

Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself. 

It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.

However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked. 

He’s still too naive.

Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.

Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?

Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder. 

However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.

There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room. 

Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.

Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.

Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.

After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears. 

“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths. 

Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.

Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.

This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you. 

“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence. 

Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.

The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.

Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless. 

With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.

Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats. 

“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.

“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more. 

“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands. 

He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.

However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow. 

Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip. 

“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone. 

“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes. 

Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.

A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows. 

Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.

If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths. 

A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.

Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?

“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee. 

As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.

One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores. 

The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate. 

Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.

Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker. 

“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume. 

The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his. 

“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response. 

His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan. 

“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud. 

Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.

By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.

Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate. 

While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him. 

“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?” 

By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.

Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.

However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?

Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.

Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful. 

Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds. 

–

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man. 

Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.

While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.

He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese. 

Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.

Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice. 

Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears. 

Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.

It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.

Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.

How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?

Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right. 

Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call. 

“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path. 

Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.

When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.

The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence. 

“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide. 

The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose. 

His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.

The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.

Her sudden movement caught your attention as well. 

Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.

Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other. 

If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.

Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it. 

In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.

Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine. 

“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of. 

The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.

Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle. 

“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.

The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.

At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.  

“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered. 

After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago. 

“My name is Carole!” She chirps. 

“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise. 

As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”

Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more. 

The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself. 

A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily. 

Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now. 

Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.

Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’. 

Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase. 

How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?

He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained. 

As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times. 

“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him. 

The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed. 

“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours. 

From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes. 

The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours. 

It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of. 

“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”

“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses. 

His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.

Guilt which originated a few weeks prior. 

—

On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears. 

“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups. 

As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese. 

Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo. 

Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.

In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them. 

The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them. 

Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them. 

However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.

“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.” 

The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.

After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine. 

Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued. 

“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe. 

“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped. 

You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold. 

“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?” 

At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion. 

“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank. 

Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view. 

He had misspoke.

Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.

His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority. 

Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky. 

—

Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue. 

“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips. 

“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion. 

“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes. 

“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.

“I can manage.”

“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?” 

Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room. 

The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle. 

Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours. 

It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate. 

“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”

With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.

It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.

This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum. 

“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office. 

Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.

All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds. 

From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of. 

“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.

To have loved and have been loved in return.

Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.

Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life? 

Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure? 

As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon. 

The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.

With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason. 

The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.

Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.

“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes. 

Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.

“Please, forgo the formalities.” 

Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.

Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.

Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it. 

By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries. 

“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws. 

“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud. 

Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.

It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness. 

It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.

How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.

Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face. 

The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.

However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.

Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours. 

“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view. 

“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.” 

He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding. 

“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner. 

The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.

The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.

“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment. 

Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.

Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.

In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer. 

“Are there any regrets you hold?” 

“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow. 

“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.” 

“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.” 

“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.” 

“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle. 

Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window. 

“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips. 

Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.

The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room. 

He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.

He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started. 

Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.

Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?

A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.

Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds. 

“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.” 

A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade. 

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.

Your chest moves with a deep inhale. 

“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began. 

Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice. 

“Actually, I have many,” you sigh. 

Before he could formulate a response, you continued. 

“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame. 

A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.

Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence. 

As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.

All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.  

That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion. 

The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.

The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.

The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours. 

Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more. 

“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter. 

“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again. 

“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.

A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.

The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.

What shall he do now?

The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.

Oh, what shall he do now? 

Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean. 

“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.

Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.

A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another. 

“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.

It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.

“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.

The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer. 

“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud. 

Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.

“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles. 

–

Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.

However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle. 

Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.

It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour. 

The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.

At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad. 

The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop. 

To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough? 

In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again. 

Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.

So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean. 

Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of. 

Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder. 

And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth. 

But now, the shore has eroded away.

Where does the tide go now?

Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing but grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?

Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind. 

Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.

Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.

Maybe that was the first destination of your journey. 

During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose. 

Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods. 

Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures. 

The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.

Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.

Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past. 

The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.

Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.

New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols. 

A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.

A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks. 

The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.

Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth. 

He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.

Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face. 

No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer. 

Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice sings out:

“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.

Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain. 

It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.

His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella. 

It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.

“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.  

Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.

That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.

Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.  

“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes. 

You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.

When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.

You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.  

 Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.

“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets. 

How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers. 

He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?

“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man. 

As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.

Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.

A strange familiarity you couldn’t name. 

“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters. 

The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds. 

It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.

They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.

So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again. 

Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path. 

The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.

Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.

Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long. 

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[heizours]

GLITCHES

summary. when they find out that you're planning to delete the game under a few reasons

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. angst if you squint, mentions of explosions, sumeru archon quest spoilers on scara's part, they are lowkey freaking out like it's the end of the world

feat. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, zhongli, kazuha

note. there will be no endings/parts where the reader deletes or doesn't delete the game. to make it easier, the characters somehow already knows another way to prove their existence, and that it is ;)

< back to event m.list

INTRO.

Recently you have been busy for the past few days, as you're trying to accomplish all the works that was given to you before the given deadline.

And that also meant, not being able to spend the rest of your day opening the game. You really tried managing your time, but even that advice can't stop from the overflowing requirements that were continuously being given to you.

Which led to this scenario- apparently your laptop's storage has already reached it's limit, and because of that you can't save the file that was tasked to you

"Are you seriously playing with me now?" You grumbled under your breath, as this minor problem is starting to making you feel frustrated.

Meanwhile, your dear character has been very worried about you. He haven't seen you log in for the past recent weeks, and each passing day was a dreading feeling for him.

Till, all his answers have been granted when that familiar feeling came back again as he heard the sudden sound, which indicates of you logging in. The feeling of your presence, made him feel at ease again. But, of course, he seriously didn't expected it to be thrown away in an instant.

"Perhaps playing one last time, should erase the guilt I'm going to be feeling while deleting this..." You mumbled to yourself, not even the slightest aware that it was clearly heard by him beyond your screen.

Oh, no.

What have you done?

XIAO. 

any outsider would think that there’s nothing going on inside his mind. the truth is, he’s trying to understand if what you had just said was just a joke or not, that he didn’t even noticed that he’s actually panicking the minute he heard it.

Xiao’s breathed hitched in nervousness at the statement that he had just heard from you, not too long ago. His eyes widened in both shock and fear, as he needed to control his breathing so that you won’t be able to noticed the odd actions about him. 

He tried to keep his composure, but he really can’t as his thoughts continue to spiral and emerge from every corner of his brain. 

Did he do something that you didn’t like?

Is it because he isn’t build enough to surpass your expectations?

Or maybe, you just came up with that excuse to indirectly say that you’re tired of him?

No amount of words can be describe by the amount of predictions Xiao is coming up with, as he looked back to reflect on his actions if there is something that bothered you so much, that you refused to play the game for the past few weeks and now, you’re mumbling about deleting it from your gadget’s existence.

His eyes kept darting every where that is surrounding him, except the direction that leads to yours, as he could feel the sweat from nervousness and fear are starting to kick and come out from him.

“But- they were always so happy and glad after logging in. It’s impossible that they are getting tired of it l, they even always use my abilities and skills to complete quests..” He mumbled to himself.

He looked up to look at you again, and there was no denying that Xiao can see frown that was evident on your face even though you tried to hide it in the first place, while you’re taking every last explore in the map, to be worth it and cherished before logging off.

If there’s anything that affects Xiao the most, it is seeing you under the clouds.

Suddenly, the thoughts that were brewing inside him, were pushed out of the way, as this time a determination presence has made it known from within him.

He has made up his mind, and even if it will have to cost something, then so be it.

It might be considered as an irrational decision, but anything is a rational one as long as it involves your happiness and well-being.

“Before I knew it, you are the only keeper of my heart. You gave me such a blossoming feeling I can't be able to explain. Then in return, if this decision will be for your own good, then I’m willing to risk it all for you.”

SCARAMOUCHE.

it might be already expected that he would let out a sudden outburst like he usually does, but it was the complete opposite of it. he was as still as thin ice, since that statement alone from you had triggered and brought back such major flashbacks that he had experienced from his whole life.

For a thousand of years he has lived and wandered all his life, this was the very first time Scaramouche has experience that feeling once again.

He thought that it was all over, and that he had left all those incidents all in the past, but you were the trigger for those unpleasant memories to emerged back from the ashes.

He doesn't understand.

What do you mean by that?

Are you also going to be like her? like them?

Are you also going to abandon him?

Scaramouche felt paralyze by those thoughts, because just as he was about to become a playable character and is waiting for the anticipation to be welcomed in your arms, this is what he gets instead?

“That can’t be possible, in fact- they are always excited whenever I get cutscenes especially if they are unexpected ones- or maybe they didn't like my part for Sumeru's archon quest..?" He murmured to himself, as he covered a part of his mouth, while being deep into his thoughts.

He looked back up to the screen, only to see you very focused on defeating a group of hilichurls that you were commissioned to. But no amount of focus can cover the sadness that is displayed on your face.

Scaramouche often has a routine, that since he is still an NPC and can be able to also roam around whether your online or offline in the game, he had made it a point to himself, to subtly follow you wherever you go, so that he can also be able to secretly help you to defeat the opponents much easier than you expected.

He for once, thanked himself that he never got tired of doing it, even though he sometimes also ‘complains’ how it’s really troublesome to see, that someone as dangerous as himself, is discreetly following you around like a lost child.

He took one last look at you, before turning his back. But as he took force steps away from you, he had halt it. Once again, he turned around to look at you, as a small smile slowly crept up to his face.

Like he suddenly had a big plan on his mind.

After all, if you can be able to enter his, then he too can do the same to yours. Right?

“The hoax, they are just all a gigantic lie in the world I live in. But you, you were different from all of them, in you I found peace and assurance. So, can I be able to find the truth in yours?”

HEIZOU.

as expected from a detective like himself, he’s coming up with every equation, that can fit as the solution to your problem. he gives himself some assurance that it will take not that much of a time before he finds one....or can he be able to?

He is a prodigy, an amazing detective. Surely he can be able to find such major clues, and can put it into the puzzle that's missing it's pieces, to prevent you from erasing the game?

Heizou stands there with his typical detective pose, as he goes deeper in his inner thoughts.

Ah, maybe this can work!

I think I'm gonna have a change of plans, it will not work.

It's alright, I can be able to solve this. Hopefully..

His brain continued to brew and function like it used to be, but every time he comes up with something it was always met by a dead end.

If any passer by will be able to see him, they could literally see the imaginary smoke coming from his brain, and because of his frequent change in expressions.

One moment his eyes would light up, the second he will freeze in pure disappointment before replacing it with a frustrated expression, as he goes back at the starting line.

"This is quite odd...usually I can be able to solve cases with the help of my intuition, but how is it I can't find something for their problem?"

Heizou mumbled disappointedly to himself.

He wasn't even aware, that the "assurance" that he is telling to himself, will be the embodiment for him so start panicking, as the fear that he won't be able to see and feel your presence again, is starting to sink in.

Heizou looked back up at the screen, as the dreaded feeling in him continued to drop. Archons, he hated it so much to see you feeling like this.

If only he can just find a way disappear from this sham world, and can be able to do all the things he is already thinking of to comfort you, then he would gladly do so.

The moment that unintentional statement formed in his mind, a large bright light bulb appeared above his head.

'That's it!'

He snapped his fingers as he mentally exclaimed it.

It was a risky and impossible solution, but how could we say it as an impossible one, when we haven't even tried it yet?

He took a look at you, up at the screen before raising up his hand, as if he was trying to touch your cheek and comfort you, despite the digital barrier that is hindering him from doing so.

"You are the William to my Sherlock, therefore I would like you to wait for me [Name], I promise you I will be the solution to your needs."

ZHONGLI.

he flinched unconsciously from that statement. out of all the possible words he is already predicting to come out from you, this was by far, the most surprising one. can you imagine the look on his face?

Out of all the things that Zhongli has expected, this was the very least he had expected to happen.

It was a very rare yet memorable moment to catch the old archon to be off guard, and there is no denying that he did felt that way when you had spoken to yourself about how you're thinking of ending things already.

He completely understands it due to the experiences he had seen as a witness during his lifetime, as he also has his own beliefs that he can't be able to stop you, especially that it is not his right to know what's happening among your personal affairs.

After all, you're not even the least aware that he is alive and breathing lively inside the device you're using right now.

However, there is still this tingling feeling where he's a little curious of what is bothering you so much, that it this had to happen in this point of your life.

Did something not good happened?

Are you alright?

Will you still remain safe, even if you erase his existence?

Such countless thoughts started coming one after another, as the more he continues to spiral down through it, the more he is getting concerned about your condition.

"One shall not expose their identity especially if it's something unimaginable, but I clearly want to express how concern I am over you [Name].."

Zhongli voiced out to himself, because if he would do it in front of you, then there is a very big possibility that you're going to freak out and will be able to click that delete button without any hesitation, before he can even explain anything about that glitch.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he was snapped out of it after hearing a big explosion that was not that far from where he is standing at the moment.

He has hesitating if he should go after it, especially that there is a chance someone might have gotten in danger because of it, but as he took a look at you are right now, he decided that he would make the travel fast in order to get back to you in a flash.

As he arrived at the area, something worth shocking and unbelievable was existing right in front of his eyes. No, it wasn't an unpleasant sight but it was rather a complicated one.

There stood an unknown portal, and through the portal he can be able to see you, doing what you were doing, but in a more different perspective from what he sees behind the screens.

Zhongli took hesitant steps, towards it. There is an odd presence radiating from it. Knowing that he is usually a rational person, he would usually step back from it just to be safe, but instead he finds himself closing the gap between him and it?

He took again another look through the portal to make sure if what is behind it, is truly not something delusional just to lure him in.

He's not one to make a decision in a fast pace, but just seeing you right behind this portal he's standing in front of, is encouraging him to take the opportunity, as it will be a worthy choice to make and shouldn't be wasted.

His fingers shook, as he got closer and closer to it, and once it had collided with the portal, there was a blinding light that surrounded the area before it disappeared along with the thin air.

"Oh Dear, just how big of a trouble did I got into? Well, there is no time to blame myself. I guess it should be you who I am worrying about, after all how would you react to find me standing right in front of you?"

KAZUHA.

he was able to take that statement calmly on the outside, however the moment he had grasp what you had just said, there is no denying that something shattered inside of him.

It seem that time has stopped around him, the very moment those words had escaped your lips.

But, despite the unpleasant twisting and burning feeling in his chest, it's a surprise that he was able to take it well from the outside.

Do not be fooled though, for if you have the ability to go deep inside his mind, you would be able to see the countless thoughts that are appearing and whispering from within him.

What was the cause of this effect?

Can he be able to reverse it at least?

Are you going somewhere he can't be able to follow or reach?

Such an occurrence like this, brings back Kazuha from the burdens he had to carry because of his past and fallen status.

"I have no right to stop you from doing so, since I firmly believe that you are entitled to have goals and dreams. But, there is a bitter taste in my mouth that I can't be able to erase once you separate the both of us for the purpose of your path."

He mumbled to himself, as he places a right hand near his chest, while reminiscing the unforgettable moments he had with you before you completely take the chance, to erase his data and memories.

He was glad that he isn't part of your team party at the moment, because he can take this chance to just simply look and admire you from the barrier, and take in your breathless form before fading away like the glitches.

That is, until something bright yet risky have been planted on his mind. Not too long ago, he heard some gossips about a mechanism device, being able to grant a wish of whether it can be believable or not.

Now, Kazuha knows that such a device can't possibly be able to do a miracle like that, but even though he is denying it, there is still that glimpse of hope inside him, that he should go for it.

Knowing that he can be able to also roam around like the others that escapes your naked eye, he took one last yearning look at you, as he hastily began his journey, hoping and praying that he can be able to make it to that device before you can even plan to erase all of the game's existence.

"You are the summer to my autumn. Back then I didn't have someone I can be able to protect, but now that you're here, please continue to show me the bright light that leads to yours."

OUTRO.

Peacefully.

You were just sleeping very peacefully.

But, that peace was unintentionally disturbed by his arrival- which you didn't know at all.

You could feel something- no, someone softly caressing your face, as if you're a sensitive vase.

At first, you tried to ignore it thinking that it was just the gust of wind, and it soon stopped.

However, it didn't end there. The lingering and soft touches had already disappeared from your senses, but you could still feel the presence of that someone.

You could feel them staring right into your soul, and if you even show the slightest signs of being awake, who knows what can they do to you.

Despite the warnings you had gathered, your stubbornness still got ahead of you. Because as soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you see is someone breathing above you.

Out of instinct, you push them and hastily grabbed the nearest object that you can use to defend yourself, but as you took another look at the said intruder, you could have sworn that this is a dream.

Unconsciously, you slapped your face with the both of your hands, attempting to jolt your soul to wake up. And the sound emitted a sharp sting, causing the intruder to panic.

"W-wait! I'll explain everything I know, j-just please don't continue to hurt yourself further." He frantically claimed, as he started to feel guilty for making you act like that.

You lowered down the object that you're using to defend yourself, but that doesn't mean that you're guard has also lowered down.

I mean, who would even lower their own guard down when they wake up to find one of the characters from the game that they are playing, are alive and breathing right above them, got into their property without noticing it, knows them and looks exactly like the character itself?

"A-alright, I'll let you. J-just please don't come any closer than that, since this moment actually took a big toll on me, and I'm finding it unbelievable to even believe it." You nervously replied back, as he nodded back eagerly in return.

You think it will only end here? How laughable, truth to be told, this is just the beginning of each other's story.

We may never know what are fate's plan for the both of you, but as they always proclaim-

'Everything happens, for a reason.'

comment to be added in the taglist!

[h0neysp1ce]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do my request? Could you any genshin boys (Mainly Neuvillette and Wriothesley, but if you want to do one, do Neuvillette) with a fem!reader who’s like robin from hsr? Like she’s a popular idol and is very famous?

Thanks for reading my request, and make sure to take care of yourself!

Nҽυʋιʅʅҽƚƚҽ x Iԃσʅ Fҽɱ! Rҽαԃҽɾ

Characters: Neuvillette, Fem! Reader Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff Constellation: Head canons, Scenarios/One Shots Warning(s): Spoilers for Neuvillette's character and Fontaine quests. DNI if you haven't played through the Fontaine Archon quests yet or interacted with Fontaine as a whole. There are spoilers! also there are French Pet names mentioned such as Mon Chéri, Mon trésor, and Mon Amour. Reader is Female Aligned , although its rough finding context clues of that (I'll edit later for any mistakes) mentions of other characters such as Seigiwinne, Lyney, and Lynette. Cringe Dialogue between you and Neuv?? sort of. Mentions of Deep kissing sessions but nothing over that??

A/N: Thank you to the person who requested this! It provided a fun challenge for my writing skills, which I enjoyed ^^ I wasn't sure if you meant headcanons or scenarios, so I included a mixture. And thank you do take care of yourself too! <3 (edited post)

word count: 1824

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

You had caught the eye of the Hydro Dragon in short...

➺ You and Neuvillette had started dating privately since you were both significant figures in Fontaine, him as the Chief of Justice and you as a popular Idol.

➺ The relationship is very discreet and private; the only person who knows would probably be Sigewinnie. You two had met at the Opera House during Lyney and Lynette's magic show.

To put it simply, you found yourself wanting to get away from the paparazzi. So, you put on a disguise and decided to visit the Opera House, curious about the magic show. However, you had no idea you would bump into the Chief of Justice.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (1)

You took a seat beside the Chief of Justice without realizing who he was. Suddenly, a voice broke your train of thought.

"Excuse me- "

You turned to look, and it was Neuvillette himself. You almost freaked out, but you kept your composure.

"Monsieur Neuvillette—" your voice faltered mid-sentence.

"Ms. "Name" I presume?" he asked.

"How did you- "

"Don’t fret, Madam Name. I’m not going to blow your cover, so you can relax," he stated with a slight smile.

➺ From that point on, you two found ways to see each other—some coincidences and some deliberate. This is what strengthened your relationship the most.

➺ Your hometown is Fontaine, so when you’re not touring or performing, you’re relaxing at home.

➺Eventually, it was clear that you both had feelings for each other. Though it was awkward at first, you two made it official, and it went surprisingly well.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (2)

You had just finished rehearsal for one of your concerts and had promised Neuvillette in advance that you would have a date and some tea together.

You hastily made your way to his office, gently opening the door and closing it behind you.

"Ah, Mon chéri—I presume rehearsals concluded ?" Neuvillette trailed off. He was at his desk, finalizing some paperwork when he looked up at you and gave a smile.

" Yes, Mon amour, they did," you responded. You made your way behind his desk, plopped down in his lap, and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Mon trésor," he murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it before bringing it to his cheek to bask in your warmth.

He trailed a few kisses from the edge of your palm to your wrist, his hand resting on top of yours.

You and he just sat like that for what seemed like a while until you broke the silence.

"Mon amour, how has work been going on your end, if I may ask?"

"It’s been very tedious, my dear "Name", but as the Chief of Justice, it’s my job," he said with a slight smile.

He looked at you with admiration and suddenly pulled you in for a sweet kiss that lasted a few moments. You both enjoyed the warmth and passion of the moment.

You pulled away first and giggled at how clingy he was being.

You shared a few more kisses before actually getting on with the date, which ended with you both drinking tea and discussing a multitude of topics.

➺ Neuvillette is a man who loves praise. He adores it when you compliment him and will do the same for you, admiring and praising you in every way. He definitely attends most of your concerts; unfortunately, he can’t make it to all of them because of his busy schedule with trials, paperwork, and his duties as the Chief of Justice. However, he always ensures to be your biggest supporter and fan.

➺He loves your voice. When you speak or sing, it’s like listening to an angel to him.

➺ He has been open about his true identity to you. In fact, he told you he was the Hydro Dragon on your second date. He didn’t want to hide it from you because he cares about you and values honesty in your relationship. At first, he was hesitant to tell you because he didn’t know how you would react, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

➺ This man even gave you a promise ring. You both have matching rings, though his is hidden under one of his gloves for obvious reasons related to Fontaine's never ending drama. He loves how you wear yours on display.

Interviewer: "Now, Ms. Name, can you tell me about the ring on your finger?" the interviewer asked curiously.

"Name:" “Oh, this is just a new piece of prized jewelry I wear. It’s an important piece and has a lot of value, that’s all I’ll say for now,” you replied.

➺ That’s the excuse to keep things concealed between you two, as you prefer to keep the relationship private.

➺ Sigewinne found out during tea time between her and Neuvilette , Neuvillette mentioned you, and she could tell from the way he spoke about you that you two were definitely an item. She always found you to be a lovely couple.

➺ Neuvillette loves when you return from your travels or tours. He enjoys when you find a comfy spot on his lap in his office while he’s going through files and paperwork. He might pull you closer and sneak in a few kisses and caresses while multitasking.

➺He is excellent at multitasking, confirmed.

➺ He admires you in every way. He finds you beautiful and sweet and feels you bring him so much joy. Whenever you’re around, this Hydro Dragon cries less, to put it simply.

➺ You’re good at easing each other’s stress. For you, you work with comforting him, and your comfort helps him relax when he’s been cooped up in his office for too long. On the other hand, he goes for a more delicate approach, like letting you sit on his lap or resting on the sofa in his office after a lot of rehearsals or concerts.

➺ He’s a physical touch and gift-giving man, and maybe just a bit into words of affirmation. He has a specific way of talking to you. Although he may not fully understand all human emotions, he really tries, and you’ve helped him understand them better.

➺ He loves your touches—your soft hands that fit so well in his, and when you cup his face, he’ll place his hands over yours if you do so for a while. He enjoys basking in your warmth, and he loves to litter your hands with kisses and trail up your hands and wrists. He wants to kiss your soft lips 24/7 and hold you passionately every chance he gets. You are precious to him.

➺ He is a well-mannered man with a lot of courtesy and respect towards you <3

➺ You and him do live together, but the location is kept private between you two.

➺ This man will eventually ask you to marry him—100% guaranteed.

➺ Just ask, and he makes some of your concerts. You tend to attend some of the trials he oversees, though you sit in the back so you’re not easily noticed.

➺ Things definitely grow passionate when you kiss, and it becomes very intimate. By the end, you’re either both slightly out of breath or Neuvillette is covered in kiss marks from your lipstick.

➺ You might think he would be bothered by lipstick stains and marks left on him, but he actually loves them, even though he has to clean them off before making a public appearance, which is rare unless it’s a trial or something.

➺ He’ll often give you his coat on the way home. His coat draped over you is something that makes him happy.

➺ They say dragons like treasure. You are, in fact, his treasure—more precisely, his “Mon trésor.”

➺ Being the Iudex in Fontaine, you know he’s fluent in French, so expect him to speak to you in French sometimes or give you French pet names of endearment.

➺ As an Idol, you have many die-hard fans. It’s not bad for the most part, but sometimes they can get out of hand.

➺ You’re famous to the point that the whole of Teyvat knows who you are at this point.

➺ You made a name for yourself early in your career and are a very successful Idol, beloved by many.

➺ Your music and songs are hits across the world of Teyvat. Lots of people talk about you a lot.

➺ Your Vision is Hydro, and during your performances, you use water techniques from your Vision to create cool effects at your concerts.

➺ Not only are you a hit as an Idol, but you also do interviews, modeling for photoshoots, and there is some merchandise with your face on it. However, you prefer to keep it minimal, as having your face on everything is a bit overwhelming at times.

➺ Yes, there are downsides to being an Idol - crazy fans and intrusive paparazzi, to name a few. But other than that, you love your career.

➺ With your Vision, when used during performances, it creates a trail of water, musical notes, and floating bubbles that sync with your voice and timing.

➺ Sometimes, Neuvillette will ask you to sing something for him when you’re alone, and you get shy and surprised, asking him why.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (3)

"I'm running a  bit late," you said, glancing at the time.

"I’ll be back soon, mon amour," you kissed Neuvillette goodbye.

He smiled and pulled you in for one last kiss before you had to go, returning your goodbye kiss.

"I’ll see you later this evening, mon chéri. Remember dinner tonight," he said.

You grinned widely in return and turned to head off, getting ready for another one of your concerts. Unfortunately, Neuvillette was buried in paperwork, so he couldn’t attend this one. But he wished you all the best and good luck.

Later, you returned from your concert, kicking off your heels after entering the shared home you and Neuvillette have.

"Mon amour!" you called out.

"Yes, Mon trésor, I’m in the dining room," he replied.

You entered the dining room, which was dark except for the lit candles on the table.

A candlelit dinner? Your face flushed slightly red as you looked up to see Neuvillette sitting across the table with a wine glass in hand.

"Welcome home, dear "Name", he said.

"Neuvillette, you didn’t have to do all this..." you murmured as you walked over to him.

He pulled you into his lap the moment you reached him, holding you close for a moment before responding.

"Mon amour," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"My sweet Hydro Dragon..." You lightly ran a hand through his white fluffy locks, gently massaging his scalp.

You ended up staying there, chatting over dinner about your day and enjoying each other’s company.

A/N: Dialogue went brrr. I tried to be as creative and detailed as possible but it might be cringe at points. I’m still learning how to write so apologies for any awkward dialogue ;w;

. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

[dustofthedailylife]

"A Dream Of You"

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Summary: Dreams were something the citizens of Sumeru didn't know for a long time. Alhaitham was one of the ones who has never experienced dreams either. So when he experiences it for the first time he is conflicted. Because he dreams of you.

Pairings: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Tags: fluff, pining, a bit suggestive but SFW, minor Sumeru Archon quest spoilers, Alhaitham is whipped for you and doesn't want to admit it

A/N: Whoops, well this was meant to be a short brainrot, now it turned into an entire one-shot/drabble. Either way, hope you enjoy ♡

As soon as the Akasha no longer functioned many people in Sumeru experienced dreams for the first time in their entire life.

Magical and beautiful imagery comes to life through the synapses of our brains; telling us entertaining, romantic, disturbing, frightening, or sometimes bizarre tales. They feel so magical one could be inclined to mistake them for reality as they often seem to portray exactly what our hearts yearn for.

Alhaitham is no stranger to the concept. He knows about dreams. He has read about them a plethora of times in books and manuscripts before. But they were no more than that - tales. Records of people who've experienced them firsthand before.

He finds the concept intriguing but given the fact that he and everyone else in Sumeru were unable to dream before, he hardly wasted any time thinking or researching about them. Maybe he was too rational for it as well. He's not the type of person who has his head up in the clouds all day. He prefers living in the present and dealing with matters he actually needs to deal with instead of ones he doesn't.

At least that is what he thought before he dreamt for the first time.

And he dreamt of you. Of your warm lips molding against his, your hands tangled in his hair and roaming across his body, bodies pressed flush against each other. His arm around your waist, your mouths waging a passionate war of shared breaths and tasting every inch of skin. Both of you; lost in the moment, love blooming deep within the core of your hearts and taking root.

And then he wakes up.

A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead. His skin feels damp. The sound of his own heart resonates loudly inside his ears and it feels like his head is swimming.

Still drowsy and next to himself he sits up in his bed and cards through his gray locks. He doesn't know what happened and has no rational explanation for it at first. Until it occurs to him that this must have been one of those dreams he read about.

Just why had it been you who appeared in it?

He knows you from the Akademiya. He sometimes sees you in the library or walking down the halls of his Darshan. He has never actively sought out conversations with you though. He kept a safe distance, only throwing glances at you from time to time. Noticing the way your lips curve when you smile, the sound of your voice smooth like silken sheets. He doesn't know why he has grown so addicted to your imagery but decided to stay away for his own sake, as the feelings in his chest when he was near you were beyond any rational explanation.

He brushes it off as his mind playing tricks on him and that there are no possible rational explanations for dreams and the feelings they invoke.

But this wasn't the last dream he had of you.

Every night his mind shows him the same imagery of you, pinned underneath him, your head resting on the plush pillows on his bed, his hands caressing every inch of your skin, tongues in a fervent battle with each other.

It felt so real. The yearning in his chest grows bigger with every dream about you up to the point he actively starts to avoid you when he sees you during the day. He longs to go to sleep every night, secretly hoping he gets to see you again, feel you again. And every time he wakes up again, asking himself if what he experiences is normal. But he had no one he could seek out for help and he doesn't want to talk about it with anyone either. Is something wrong with him?

He tends to the only resource he trusts - books. Turning the entire library upside down for literature about dreams, reading into symbolicism, causes, literally any rational explanation for what is happening to him.

Why does his heart beat faster around you outside of his dreams now too? Had it always been this way? Could dreams possibly make him fall for someone? Impossible, what he sees at night was just a figment of his imagination, something his subconscious made up, it wasn't real. So, why?

He reads through book after book and discards each one - seemingly unsatisfied with what they explain. It was impossible. It doesn't make any sense to him. He would never be so irrational about something, would he?

"[...] There are several theories on why humans dream but no one knows for sure. Some researchers consider them a form of psychotherapy, others see them as a mere interpretation of signals from the body during sleep and some say they serve no purpose at all.

The general scientific consensus in recent years is that they represent our deepest unconscious wishes and desires and help us process them. [...]" *scribbled through in frustration* Madness! I do not desire this... do, I?

- An excerpt from: "Why we dream - a scientific research into the depth of our minds."

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated! Dividers are mine - do not copy.

[wystiix]

"just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat."

❥ pairing: furina x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: So it's all finally over, Furina was free from the restraints of the curse and now she could live as a normal human being. Oh, but oh shit! What is it like to live as a human? A very strange concept to grasp indeed. ❥ cw: post-archon quest spoilers (fontaine), angst, first fic so it may be a bit ew but anyways ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 2.7k ❥ notes: remind me to NEVER write again because what the shit why is this so long. but yeah anyways my first fic woohoo 🗣️🗣️ i jsut want to get this out of my drafts like please this has been bugging me I HAVE SCHOOL TOO OMLKSDJSAJ. also this is kinda based off my last relationship cuz like my ex pushed me away and allat yk (i'm praying to god they don't see this). but ye reader is kinda a bitch like towards the end btw. i wrote this mainly in a romantic perspective, but this can also be interpreted as platonic!! yahoo enjoy <33

Humans are complex beings.

Tapestries of contradictions, thoughts and emotions, all woven together into the fabric of mere existence. They can wear masks, putting them on as a display for the appeal of others. Other times, they put on a mask to deceive—making others believe they are something that they are not. Perhaps if they fake it just a little more to an extent, even the divine could be fooled.

People may do it to gain approval. Others may do it for self-satisfaction. Whatever their reason, they have the choice to remove their mask at any point.

Furina, on the other hand, had to put on that facade for five hundred years. All that, in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and to free Fontaine from its prophecy.

In that, she succeeded.

Ever since Focalors’ execution, she was freed from the curse that had been laid upon her for centuries. The restraints and pressure to conform to the public persona she had put on to please the citizens of Fontaine. That, of course, meant that she could finally live her life. Not as an Archon, but as a normal human being.

But how does one conform to the reality of human existence? Especially since she’d been in the guise of a god her entire life?

Furina was so used to presenting herself as a performer for so long that the experiences of mortals and her identity have been fractured and completely out of reach. She couldn’t even begin to grasp the nuances of mundane human interactions. Usually, she’d sit around, observing the humans– people around her. 

Differences flurried.

Some faces radiated with joy and their laughter could be heard like a choir of tinkling bells in the air. Others wept, perhaps even grieving, in the arms of their loved ones. Arguments erupted in one corner, and people’s raised voices could be heard.

Different faces and different emotions, all in one area. Very common human experiences—they all acted differently too.

As she continued to observe, it was apparent that they all had something quite similar: they all seemed genuine and had someone there to stick with them. If one person cracked a joke, they had someone to laugh with. If they were crying, they had someone’s shoulder to cry on.

Amidst all, the realisation struck her. It was painfully clear and it was being shoved right at her face. There was something they possessed that Furina herself lacked: authenticity.

Everything she did for the past five hundred years was an act. And she did it alone.

Sure, she was well-known throughout Fontaine—she did make sure to flaunt herself with a sprinkle of dramatic flair to protect her title as an “Archon” of the nation and to be seen as capable. She also had assistance from her Iudex, Neuvillette, working closely with him.

Other than that, she never had many friends throughout her life. She was lonely. Now that she wasn’t an “Archon” anymore, she felt she wasn’t needed. It was like she was going to get discarded now that she wasn’t making that false claim anymore.

That was until she met you.

You were but a passerby, strolling through the city, when the sound of soft sniffles caught your attention. Your footsteps led you outside the Opera Epiclese. There by the fountain, you caught a glimpse of Furina’s figure hunched over, her tears glistening in the faint light of dusk. The evening air was thick as you observed her from a distance. You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on her in her sorrowful and seemingly private state. Oh, but your empath instincts were acting up. Something urged you forward.

You took one step. Then another. And another. Until you found yourself standing before her, just a few feet away to keep a distance, each movement being out of impulse. Was your body on auto-pilot, perhaps? It wasn’t until—

“Lady Furina, is everything alright?” you asked gently.

Furina looked up at the sound of your voice, a little startled. Shit, was she not crying silently enough? In an attempt to mask the redness in her eyes, she quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up to her usual composed demeanour. Her crying was not a pretty sight, and she definitely did not want a passerby to see her in this state.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied in between sniffles, her voice wavering despite the attempt to appear nonchalant.

You stared at her. “Uhm, you sure? Your eyes seem all… puffy.”

Furina blinked, caught off-guard by your simple observation. “Puffy?” she echoed. She glanced down at the water fountain to examine her face.

While she was aware of the fact that she was not blessed enough to be a pretty crier, she may have underestimated how ugly crying actually was, because sweet Celestia she looked like she’d been stung by twenty angry bees. Her eyes were not only puffed up as you have mentioned, but her dark circles were more prominent, and her cheeks appeared inflamed and swollen.

“It’s nothing!” she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. Though, her gaze faltered as she glanced away from you.

You weren’t convinced. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“But it is nothing. It’s not like I’m crying. I’m just…” she trailed off, unable to form a proper sentence. “Just… don’t look at me like this. I’m not particularly at my best look as of right now, and I’d hate to display myself openly to a citizen. It’s humiliating.”

The air was thick with shrouded silence, and her closed-off body language indicated her hesitance to continue this awkward conversation. 

“Hey, I don't know if this means much hearing from a citizen as you call it,” you said. “But it's okay to cry. I'm not going to judge you for it.”

Furina blinked at you, her tears still cascading down her cheeks.

You shifted awkwardly in your spot, attempting to stand straight. “I may be a stranger and all, but I consider myself a good listener,” you professed, before briefly rubbing the back of your neck. “Then again, you don't have to talk about it if you're not keen to. I apologise for intruding. I could always go—”

“No, actually, uhm,” she cleared her throat. “I could use some company. I suppose that I, Furina, shall grant you the honour to grace you with mine own presence. Sit with me, dearest commoner.”

She patted the empty spot next to her, and you complied.

“My apologies, it seems I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm [Name],” you say.

She nodded. “Furina. As you may have already known.”

And from that simple interaction alone, a newfound bond blossomed, akin to a beautiful rose that had just sprouted in a garden. That day, being the best throughout her whole five-hundred years of living, because she made the greatest decision ever—giving you a chance to sit with her and opening up to you, because then, she could also have the chance to be with you.

Furina had a mass amount of free time in her hands now that she was, well, free. And she was more than willing to do it all with you.

People like you were difficult to come by. You were attentive, open-minded, considerate and caring. Throughout your time with her, you’ve always adhered to her needs—from surfing with her, to purchasing her most-wanted item in her shopping list no matter how useless, to actually reading any book she recommended, to watching her direct a film. It was not like she could complain, you both thoroughly enjoyed each other's company.

Ah. Was this what she was missing out on throughout her whole life? She felt much calmer and… happier. She’d never known such a feeling, the fact that she was able to let her guard down around you, the warmth seeping through her entire being. Furina was starting to appreciate the little gestures, the little mundane experiences humans experienced through you.

Even so, a sense of doubt crept into her head, agonisingly swallowing her being little by little. There was a shitload of things she was capable of doing, she is the Furina who acted without any celestial or divine powers, which was beyond impressive. But when it came to relying on others, she was practically braindead and felt completely lost. Her first instinct was to isolate herself and push others away and you were no exception.

However, you stayed patient, trying to be the attentive and understanding person you were and listened intently.

“It’s like learning a new dance,” you would say as you stroked her hair, gently wiping her tears away. “You don’t aimlessly move around and expect to make a cohesive dance routine. It takes patience, taking baby steps and feeling the rhythm. Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat.” You paused before adding, “I promise, I’ll always be here.”

She nodded, leaning into your touch. “And I promise to show you the same amount of affection you’ve given to me.”

One, two, three. Each basic step, slow and deliberate. Miss Furina had familiarised herself with performing arts, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was skilled in the area of dancing. This time, she was following your lead.

It almost made her feel bad that you'd be willing to do anything for her.

One, two, three.

However, like a rose in the garden, it was bound to die eventually. 

For your sake, she’d often mask whenever she felt any sort of negativity and play it off as something foolish. Hell, it felt foolish and idiotic. How dare she feel that way after the countless times you’ve reassured her?

One, two, three.

Whenever she felt out of sync and faltered, she would retreat immediately, often needing time alone by herself. You didn’t press further and would watch her isolate herself in her room. The rhythm was quite unfamiliar, but you shrugged it off. Perhaps it’d be something she’d get over and will be fixed eventually?

One, two, three.

That didn’t happen. It happened more and more often. The breaks occurred frequently, and Furina grew increasingly distant from you. The promise you bestowed grew emptier and emptier each passing day. 

One, two, three.

But she is trying her best. She really is. It’s been hard.

One, two, three.

“Hey, I’m not going to do anything. Just take it slow, breathe. Take a deep breath in… and out.”

One, two, three.

It had been months, almost a year now. You felt as though you were the one shouldering the burden of this relationship, leaving you utterly drained.

One, two, three.

The metronome ticked. The rhythm was far too unfamiliar for you.

One, two, three.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Furina looked at you as you stood by her door, confusion etching her features. “Pardon?”

You sighed heavily. “How long will this last? Do I not matter to you?”

“...What prompted this?”

“I'm not sure, maybe for the past few months you’ve been actively avoiding me and completely shutting down my efforts to help you?”

“No, [Name], it’s not that! You just don’t understand. I just… I just need some time—”

“Don’t understand what, exactly?” you snapped. “I'm trying my best to be patient with you, I really am but I can’t do that if every fucking thing is about you. I feel like I’m the only one trying to put effort into this, but you keep pushing me away. It’s like you don’t even fucking care. C'est exaspérant, I’m tired.”

Her lip trembled and she could feel the tears form in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Shove it up your ass, Furina,” you place a hand on your forehead as if you were pushing back the impending headache that was forming. “I don’t want to hear it. How about instead of spouting empty apologies, you actually do something and try to put in some real effort, yeah?”

“But I am trying!” she protested.

"Sure you are. You don't even seem like you acknowledge the things I'm doing for you,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fat tear that rolled down her cheek. You averted your gaze away from her and got ready to leave. “I’ll just go.”

Furina’s heart dropped, more tears spilled from her eyes. She got up to grab your arm. “Wait, please. Don’t leave.”

You stood still, not turning your head towards her. “That’s new.”

“Huh?”

You jerked your arm away from her touch. “That’s new,” you repeated. “What happened to your ‘I want to be alone’s, hm?”

“Why are you asking such ridiculous questions?!” she croaked, almost sounding like a whine before shaking her head. “No, I won’t allow it! Stay with me for a little longer, please. Can we just talk about this later?”

“Give me one good reason why.”

“I’ll do better, I promise!” she pleaded. Archons it was hard to get her word across and think straight when her throat was practically constricting while she was fucking bawling in front of you, but her desperation palpable. She didn’t care if she looked ugly, she didn’t care if her eyes burned like hell. This was far more important.

“You’ve said that for the umpteenth time,” you take a deep breath to prevent yourself from exploding because this goddamn headache was not helping at all. “This isn’t the first time you promised that, you’ve been ‘promising’ that for almost a year. It’s losing its meaning and, if I’m being honest, I don’t believe it anymore.”

Furina couldn’t find the words to respond to that. The deafening silence enveloped the room shortly before you broke it with a sigh. “Yeah, I should get goi—” “I’m just afraid.”

The words hung heavy in the air, taking a while for you to process it. You wanted to ignore it but something was holding you back. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that I’ll end up pushing you away for good,” her voice was barely audible. “I don’t want to make things worse for you if I suddenly open up.”

“You know,” you shook your head, the frustration was bubbling up. “It’s actually ironic because that’s the problem. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re doing everything you can that pushes me away further than anything else ever could.”

She hated how she couldn’t deny it.

“So what now?” she sniffled, her tears flowing more freely. “You’re just going to walk away just like that?”

“I have to. You're exhausting.”

And you did. Those were the last words she heard from you before you walked out the door. You never entered it since.

One, two, three.

Promises are fragile things. In the end, they are merely just words. It's funny how words alone can shatter someone so easily.

Every day, Furina would sit by the same fountain where you met, hoping to catch the glimpse of your figure walking by. She would look into your favourite places and special spots where you used to hang out, hoping you'd at least be there and patch things up.

You never did, not even once did you come.

She could never do the same things she loved the same anymore, because it often reminded her of you. Each time, she’d envision your silhouette, leaving empty spaces in places where you would normally stand or sit next to her.

So here she was in this position again. The lonely vessel she always was since the day she was created for the sake of the prophecy. Was this her fate? Could she find any peace of mind at all?

“I shan’t sulk like this,” she scolded herself. “I am the Furina, for Archons’ sake! I know better than to further humiliate myself like this.”

She wiped away her tears and straightened up. Acting like this as if Teyvat just exploded over one person was pathetic.

Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat, she recalls you saying.

There was still time to heal. You weren't there anymore, but she still had to keep pushing through it.

It’s like a dance.

That line still echoed in her head.

One, two, three. The metronome still ticked. She had to move on. 

Furina still danced. She still had to take it slowly, step by step. Eventually, she will regain her footing—just this time, alone.

[llotuspetals]

Authors note: YOYOYO it has been a while hasn’t it?

But as an apology I brought a gift! Neuvilette x f!reader! We all love a bit of angst don’t we? Also please read the end!

This does has spoilers for the Fontaine story quest so do proceed with your own caution!

Content warning: spoilers and hopefully sad

Tags: Neuvilette x f!reader, angst

Word count: 1,398

18.07.2024

Drowning in sorrow

He knew he shouldn't have said it, but he has grown exhausted from her constant nagging about his lack of time spent with her and how clingy she could be.

After all, Monsieur Neuvilette was a busy man. The Chief Justice couldn't abandon his work just because she wanted attention, even if she was his beloved. Fontaine only had him, the nation only had one protector! Especially after Furina gave up her life in the trial once it was revealed she wasn’t the true archon. And so the argument finally exploded in rain.

"Forget it, petit chou." Neuvilette spoke, his voice trembled from the cold rain yet it remained calm and aloof.

"If I knew this sooner, I wouldn’t have accepted this relationship."

she knew they were arguing but she didn’t know he was that mad. Her voice stopped screaming, her body frozen in place, her eyes widened. It seems that time has but frozen her in place, her feet rooted into the concrete ground.

She stood outside with him as the rain lashed down, soaking the two completely. Their hair was sticking to their faces, a stark contrast to their usual, well put together appearance.

As of right now she didn’t know that Neuvilette was the hydro dragon, meaning she didn’t know it only rained when he was unhappy.

She tried to respond but her voice gave no sound as she thought his harsh words.

Originally, she had come to surprise her love with a bouquet of flowers.

She was wandering the bustling streets of Fontaine and spotted a flower shop with fresh blue flowers. She immediately got to work piecing together baby blue lillie’s, soft white baby breaths, sky blue tulips and sapphire roses. It took the better half of her morning. But all that was worth it for her lover

She brought the bouquet of flowers to where she knew Neuvilette would be on his lunch break. However, after dealing with a headache of a case earlier that day, all he wanted was some peaceful alone time. And she didn’t get that did she? So she approached the white haired man and grinned dopely. She wanted to talk to him and spend some quality time before she handed him the bouquet, but he, in an annoyed tone, asked to be alone. She had thought she did something wrong, so she kept asking until he exploded on her.

Months of pent up frustration at her, at Fontaine, at the world was all dumped onto her. Before long the sky began crying with her. Of course, he could only let his frustration out on her, who else could he blame if not her? He knew that she meant well. She was a kind, loving person after all. Always putting others first, never asking for anything in return.

Which was probably the reason why he exploded. He was tired. Frustrated. The weight of responsibility had taken its toll on him, and he found himself snapping at you because she was the only one who would never snap back. And because he felt safe being vulnerable with her. He almost loathed how much she loved him, knowing full well that he didn't deserve it.

It wasn’t his fault! Centuries of frustration, anger and resentment was bound to explode one day or another. He was tired, overwhelmed. But she didn’t understand, why her?

She dropped the delicately packed bouquet behind her hand in shock. Or maybe it was in anger? And with that she whispered quietly, so quiet that if not for his heightened senses, he might’ve missed it. “I’m sorry…” and with that , she ran. She ran and she ran until she was somewhere new. She ran until her legs gave up on her. She collapsed under a large oak tree, and she cried.

He stood there speechless, he wanted to call out for her, he opened his mouth to, but no words came out. It was like an invisible force kept him from moving until she was out of his sight. The rain poured even harder than before, almost as if it were mocking him.

Ever since her teen years, she didn’t have much. Not much friends, not a lot of money or popularity, not enough attention and love. Maybe that was why she was so clingy? So demanding? Was this why no one stayed with her?

She knew that people all eventually leave, leave her to her own mind. She never had a single person last more than a decade with her, be it friend or lover. Maybe Neuvilette wasn’t any different? This brought her a weird sense of comfort. At least she could blame it on some sort of curse that was put upon her.

Soon she passed out under the tree from exhaustion. She was emotionally exhausted from their argument and physically from all her crying. Her body gave up due to lack of oxygen. She had curled up as a way to conserve heat. She slept under the tree soundlessly for the entire night as the rain raged on.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A few weeks passed and she avoided Neuvilette like the plague. It’s not like he was actively searching for her anyway. During a recent trial, a shocking discovery was made about the fact that Fontainians could dissolve in water from the Primordial Sea. She had assumed this was due to the fact that every Fontainian was born with “sin”.

Knowing that she was a true fontainian, knowing that no one can love her truly. She set out to seek for the deadly water. She searched and she searched, and finally, she discovered it thanks to an individual named “Marcel”. She paid good money for it. It was ironic, she paid for her death. She waited for a rainy day. That didn’t take long as Neuvilette himself was drowning in guilt.

On a particularly rainy day, she stood in her garden and looked up at the sky.

“Hydro dragon! Hydro dragon! Don’t cry!” the neighbourhood kids chanted happily as they splashed around in the water puddles.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon… don’t cry” she repeated with a smile, a smile that held everything but joy. Her voice was weak when she spoke. A once joyful and energetic young girl, who let nothing get her down. Finally took off her facade of a mask. She was tired of pretending that she wasn’t upset with everyone leaving. At least, this time she’ll be the first to permanently leave.

She sighed as she prayed for her reincarnated self to live a better life. She was never one for religion, but who knows? It’s the end of her life, she might as well. She pulled the cork out of the glass vial and poured it over her head, allowing it to coat her whole body. It burned, it stung and then…nothing.

She tried to scream but the water had already burned through her vocal cords. It was so painful yet before she could register the pain, it was gone. It felt blissful. Almost like a large weight was lifted off of her chest, a weight that was previously suffocating her. She felt free.

She wasn’t worried about her death, it’s not like anyone would come seeking for her anyway.

She joined the other young ladies that had died in this way. They all asked if she was the 23rd experiment. Experiment? No she died by her own will. And she was trapped in limbo for all of time, until the end of the universe.

Meanwhile in Fontaine, Neuvilette was standing outside her front door, a handpicked bouquet of pink baby breaths, white tulips and red lillie’s. Waiting patiently as he knocked on the door, not knowing there was no one to open the door for him. Not now, not ever again.

He also did not know, that he would be the one to fulfill the prophecy, drowning himself in sorrow and taking all of Fontaine with him. He looked up at the sky, and at the now underwater Fontaine. He stood at the highest peak of Fontainian architecture, watching buildings after buildings sink underwater along. The very nation he swore to protect. The nation he gave up his lover for, drowned with him.

“Ah…I’m tired” was the last words spoken by the silver haired man as the rain drowned the nation he used to love so dearly.

Do let me know how I did on this! I’m quite proud as of right now. (Ignore the bad quality gif)

Also, to shamelessly plug my own socials, I am a new Genshin content creator on TikTok, by account is @jjadepetals on TikTok. Please drop a follow if you can.

[starglitterz]

♡ WRETCHED MIRRORS.

mothers and sons exist as wretched mirrors of one another – i am all you could have been and you are all i might be. (from here.)

✧ feat : scaramouche, ei. (platonic)

✧ warning(s) : angst, spoilers for scaras backstory, i haven't played the 3.0/3.1/3.2 archon quests i make my own canon, not proofread

✧ a/n : i hate them. very different content to what i usually post but i am so obsessed with their dynamic that i had 2 write this. i also rlly like this piece & i hope u do too <3

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

scaramouche is furious. he can feel it, the rage coursing through his veins of electricity and the way lightning crackles at his fingertips. this very realisation only serves to anger him further, forcing him to confront the knowledge he does his best to ignore; he is but a poor caricature of his creator at best.

scaramouche is scared. he can feel it, the fear quivering in his chest, and if he had a heart, he's certain it would be fluttering against his ribs like a bird in a cage. fear makes him weak. he spits the words out with hatred edging his tone and the phrase leaves a metallic taste in his mouth. he is terrified that he will become her and yet also that he will differ from her. he can admit that to no one because they will see it as a defect and he was created to be perfection itself, divinity distilled into a flawless marionette.

for a puppet, scaramouche feels way too fucking much.

and he hates it. he hates her. this is all her fault. it makes him feel even worse that he is resorting to pinning the blame on her like some foolish child. but it's true, isn't it? he wouldn't even be here, shaped from fragments of her grief and desire and the very thread which ties inazuma together, if it wasn't for her. he wouldn't have to suffer betrayal after betrayal if it wasn't for her.

and yet he loves it, oh, scaramouche loves her. how long can he keep lying to himself like this? how many times can he tell himself that he despises her, he loathes her, he abhors her for creating him and then tossing him aside like some child growing bored of a worthless plaything. some nights he wakes up from a memory, or perhaps a fantasy, of her combing through his long hair while humming a soft tune – there are always tears staining his cheeks and a dull ache in the left side of his chest on nights like those. because the truth is, he misses her so much it disgusts him.

scaramouche's deepest secret is that he just wants her to see him. he yearns for her to view him as more than what he was meant to be, as a fully fleshed person with his own agency even if said flesh was stolen from her to be cloaked with a new skin and gifted with a new name. he has tried so very hard to get her attention, he has tried taking over her own nation, for archon's sake, and yet she still would not spare him even a glance. he doesn't know what else he can do. but he also doesn't know what he would do if she ever did give him that which he clandestinely craves.

scaramouche convinces himself that he would yell, he would scream, that he would take all these ugly messy awful emotions swirling around in his hollow chest and just throw them at her. perhaps the sharpness of his words would cut through her cold exterior like a verbal imitation of musou no hitotachi. but he knows he might not be able to say anything. he knows he might just crumble under her indigo gaze, and he hates it. he hates the fact that his creator can still bring him to his knees like the puppet and puppeteer they should have been.

what scaramouche hates the most, though, is the fact that he cannot bring himself to say even one of her many names. raiden shogun, ei, baal. too many times he has had dreams, or perhaps nightmares, of him whispering her name and her coming to comfort him, to hold his hand and walk beside him like the mother and son they should have been. but he buries those ideals deep within him, locks them up in the darkest recesses of his heart and mind, refuses to acknowledge them, all because scaramouche is the sixth harbinger of the fatui and he fears nothing. he tells himself that so many times he thinks he almost starts to believe it.

but sometimes, on nights where storm clouds roll over the horizon and the echo of thunder booms in his ears, scaramouche can't lie to himself any longer. perhaps all him and his mother were ever destined to be were wretched mirrors of what they could've, would've, should've been to each other.

ugh they make me so ill // general masterlist.

© starglitterz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog if you enjoyed.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Inversion of Genesis

Ship: Scaramouche x April | Word Count: 5835 | Tags/Warnings: Spoilers for the 3.3 Archon Quest, it doesn't go too into specifics to the actual quest though, food mention, let me know if more should be tagged heh...

A/N: Should I have named this something else? Maybe. Either way, have this beast of a fic on the anniversary of this patch :3 I hope you enjoy it! <3

It started out pretty normal - at least for Scaramouche and the Traveler. April expected their bickering even as the Traveler was requested to accompany Scaramouche into Irminsul.

Not being able to hear half the conversation was a little annoying, but she's sure that Nahida was only talking out loud to keep her partially in the loop, and she's grateful for that.

When Dottore's code name first got mentioned by Nahida, April scowled a little but she was ultimately confused. What did they learn that involved him? It can't be good whatever it was. Nothing good ever follows the Doctor around.

"Does it?" Nahida asks in response to one of them. "But this memory shows that Niwa didn't betray you. He never meant for you to be the one to take the device into the furnace. You know very well what that means. Even more so than I."

April's eyes widen as Nahida talks, her heart breaking a little as she recognizes what that means. She knows that name. After the first time that Scaramouche told her about his betrayals, he expanded upon them, wanting her to know as much of his history as she could, especially once he knew she wouldn't betray him.

So for one of his betrayals to not be a betrayal at all… And even worse, from what little she's pieced together, the betrayal was caused by the Doctor instead… Her scowl deepens, her dislike of the man growing even further. It was bad enough all the experiments he did on Scaramouche, but now this?

Nahida falls silent again, clearly doing that mental conversation she'd been doing before. It's likely with the Traveler, but she doesn't speak any of it aloud. Though April's sure what it's about anyway and she doesn't need any further explanation on the Tatarasuna Incident. Not when she's heard all of it straight from Scaramouche.

It's a little while before she's addressed by Nahida directly, as soon as Nahida finishes whatever conversation she'd been having. "I assume you understand what they just learned?" She asks softly and April nods, trying not to scowl so harshly at Nahida. It's not her fault.

"I've never liked the Doctor." April says softly, Nahida showing no signs of surprise at her dislike of her fellow Harbinger. "But somehow, he keeps making me dislike him more and more."

Nahida gives a small smile. "He's good at that." April sighs and nods. "But be aware how this might affect Scaramouche's mood."

April laughs softly, but warmly. She's already grown pretty fond of the Dendro Archon in the time she's been in Sumeru. "I've known him longer than you - I think I know he'll be grumpy when he gets out. But thank you anyway."

"Mm." Nahida hums and shuts her eyes again, clearly listening out for the Traveler and Scaramouche.

--------------

It's long enough of a wait that April starts growing bored enough to make small wisps of smoke in various shapes to keep her entertained. She ceases immediately the next time she hears Nahida speak and she listens in for a little while, though most of it seems to be about the Traveler.

The conversation is brief and Nahida doesn't talk until the end of it, leaving April curious about what's actually being said. Though if they didn't find anything in Irminsul, she has a feeling she knows what Scaramouche is divulging to them.

The first sign that something's wrong is when Nahida's eyes widen, a slight panicked look appearing on her face. "I can't hear them anymore."

That causes April to sit up a little straighter. She's not worried, yet, but this is concerning. "Some kind of power is keeping me from hearing them." Nahida explains and April frowns. The only ones in there are the Traveler and Scaramouche… Just what's going on??

Nahida keeps trying to contact them until she manages to break through. "…I didn't think he'd be capable of that with so little power left."

"Nahida, what's going on?" April asks, not liking her tone of voice, but Nahida ignores her and keeps talking.

"Did he keep some of his power hidden when he was defeated? Or… did he achieve something beyond his abilities, and it took everything he had…?"

April's eyes widen and she taps into her bond with him, frowning as it feels like it did before they did the bonding ritual. She can't feel him at all anymore.

"…Don't be, it's not your fault. Please let me handle this from here, even though I'm not sure I can solve it." Nahida says, clearly reassuring the Traveler, though this just makes April more worried. What did Scaramouche do that even Nahida can't solve? Why can't she sense him anymore?

"We're running out of time. Follow my lead and get out of Irminsul as soon as possible." Nahida instructs and April waits until Nahida's done getting them out to speak again.

"What's going on?"

Nahida sighs softly, looking faintly troubled. "I don't have much time to explain, but here's what happened." Nahida quickly explains and April frowns. Nahida can't speak to her for long as she has to talk to the Traveler again.

"Don't worry. If my assessment is correct, though there may be some minor disturbances, it won't lead to a disaster. Please rest and recover your strength here until I say it's safe." She tells them before looking at April. "Please, return to your room and I'll do the best I can."

April nods, knowing there's nothing she can do to help in this situation besides get out of Nahida's way. She leaves quickly and returns to the accommodations she'd been staying at with Scaramouche.

Please save him, Nahida.

--------------------

The next morning April wakes feeling like something is missing. There's a phantom weight around her waist like arms should be wrapped around it, but she attributes this to the dream she had.

It was a very nice dream. She'd been laying in bed with someone, her lover from the sounds of it, and they were holding her close. Strangely, though she'd been resting her head on their chest, they didn't have a heartbeat - she remembers that clearly.

"Dreams are always weird…" She muses with a shrug.

She also remembers a voice. Soft. Masculine. Loving. Again, she gets a strange feeling that the voice is usually much rougher -- meaner -- but never at her. The voice had been whispering sweet words to her but she can't remember much of them now…

April shakes her head and rises from the bed. She gets dressed in a dialed down version of her usual Harbinger clothes. She's basically on lockdown ever since the God Creation Project failed. The Doctor left her to face the punishment by the Dendro Archon, though she was merely an assistant in the whole thing.

Thankfully, the Dendro Archon has been kind to her. Sure, she's not allowed to leave Sumeru City until Lesser Lord Kusanali figures out what to do with her, but it's better than being locked up in a jail cell or worse.

Still, she leaves the accommodations provided to her once she's dressed, ready to mill about in search of what she wants for breakfast. The pastries she'd had yesterday were good, but somehow too heavy for how she feels. That sense of emptiness from her dream must be impacting her appetite.

Fruit, however, sounds perfect.

She strolls down to the Grand Bazaar, remembering that there was a fruit stall down there. A small smile spreads across her face as she walks, enjoying the warmth of the weather. It's such a lovely day today.

Though, she can't escape the nagging feeling that it would be better with a certain someone by her side. Her eyes linger on the ring on her finger and it hits her that she has no memory of receiving it or why she would wear it on her ring finger. Surely, she'd remember being engaged to someone.

"I need to stop letting these dreams affect me so much…" She mutters quietly. It's not the first instance of such a dream, but they never reveal to her who she's missing or why. Just that there is someone she's missing.

She shakes her head and steps up behind the person in line, her eyes already peering over the fruit on display. Some Sunsettias sound lovely and maybe some Zaytun Peaches as well…

Once the person ahead of her has gone, she steps up to the counter. She opens her mouth to rattle off her order but she freezes when she makes eye-contact with the man currently running the stall. It's not the usual one, but she has heard that he's found a temporary assistant of sorts so that must be who this is.

Why then does she feel like she's met him before? Those indigo eyes feel achingly familiar and there's a little tug in her chest that tells her to hug him.

He seems equally as stunned, his expression softening with curiosity. Still, he asks her what she wants today and she shakily requests the fruit she'd wanted.

She watches as he bags everything up for her and she gives him the Mora, her heart dropping a little at the idea of having to leave him. It's so confusing. She's never felt this level of attachment for anyone before. Even her adoptive brother and sister don't elicit this strong of an urge to be beside them.

"Hey, boss?" The boy calls out right as she's about to leave. "I wanna take one of my breaks now."

April's heart catches and she pauses, wondering (perhaps foolishly) if she's the reason he's taking this break. The owner of the stall lets him go on his break and she snorts at her own behavior, starting to walk away. Of course, she's not the reason. There's just no customers after her, and…

"Hey, wait!" That voice calls out for her and she lingers again, turning to look behind her. He slows to a stop in front of her, barely seeming winded despite the way he'd practically sprinted over to her. "Mind if I accompany you?" He asks quietly and she smiles.

"I'd love it if you did." She says, grinning as her honest words make pink spread across his face.

He falls into step beside her and they head out of the bazaar, walking until she picks the spot she wants to eat her breakfast. Neither of them talks much, simply the presence of the other feeling so comfortable, so safe.

It's a wonder for both of them. April's used to feeling safe with people but rarely with a person she's just met, and for him, the wanderer, it's his first time feeling this at all.

"I want to ask something." He says and she hums, glancing over at him curiously. "It might sound weird…" He warns and she laughs.

"I doubt anything you can say would scare me." She teases and something about this feels so familiar to both.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. "Well… are you also feeling this?" He asks, "I don't know you but I feel like I do. Like there's something tugging me to you."

"Yeah." She says. "Maybe we were meant to meet and that's why?" She muses and while his cheeks turn pink again, he shrugs.

"I've never heard of that happening before, but I don't know what else this would be…"

"Mm, me either, but I want to spend more time with you." She says honestly, laughing softly at his shocked expression. "What? Have you never heard that before?"

"Not so honestly…" He says quietly, and somehow she hears 'not at all' in his tone.

"Mm, well, when you're not actively helping out at the fruit stall, why don't we spend time together?" She asks and he brightens, nodding his head eagerly.

His eagerness makes her own expression soften, something warm unfurling in her heart. Somehow she wants to protect his happiness. She feels like he deserves to be this happy and more.

"Now… this is your break, yet you haven't eaten… Here." She hands over one of the sunsettia fruits - one of the largest of the group she'd purchased. She shoves it into his hands despite his protests and watches him until he takes a bite. "Good. You won't be very good help on an empty stomach."

He chuckles and the two spend the rest of his break there together, eating fruit and occasionally chatting.

One thing she notices while he's eating is that he's also wearing a ring on his ring finger. The sight of the ring feels… familiar even though she'd swear she's never seen it before in her life.

She mentally shrugs and takes another bite of fruit, brushing off all these weird happenings. Surely, her mind is just playing tricks on her.

------------------

The next couple days are spent much the same. When he's not busy, they meet up and hang out. It's a little surprising to them both how easy it is to be familiar with each other. But they don't question it much after that first conversation.

So, it's a little bizarre when she returns to the fruit stall only to not see him at all. She quietly asks the stall owner where the boy's gone and he tells her that the Traveler showed up and needed him for something.

What would the Traveler need from a random fruit stall assistant? April thanks the stall owner and heads back to the main part of the city to walk around aimlessly, suddenly finding herself sans a companion.

Her walks take her around the entirety of the city a few times before she grows bored. It's much less interesting doing this without the nameless wanderer. During the times they'd been apart, she'd been researching names idly in case he ever brought up wanting a name that's his and not some title.

She sighs softly and frowns, "What's going on?" She asks quietly. The Traveler's never hated her per se but she is a Harbinger so they've also never trusted her, which she can't blame them for. Not after their brief interaction at the Delusion Factory.

And as much as she'd like to hate them for what happened with Signora… she just can't. She heard the details as gossip during her last remaining days in Inazuma that Signora had been challenged to a duel by the Traveler and had accepted. They both have equal fault in the result of that duel.

April sighs again and scowls to herself. An idle thought hits her and she shrugs, deciding to run with it since there's nothing else to do. She's never climbed to the top of the tree that Sumeru City is built around. Maybe the view would be worth the effort.

As she gets higher and higher towards the end of the path, the tugging sensation in her chest is growing almost like it's saying 'yes, he's this way.' But when she reaches the end of the path, despite the way the tree looms above, the tug pulls in a different direction.

That's another thing. Neither of them understands this tracking system they seem to have built in. It only works with each other - they'd tested it during periods when the fruit stall was closed for the night - but they can find each other easily despite the distance. It's such a strange thing to have connecting them to someone else, but it only cemented the idea that they're important to each other in some way.

April follows the tug regardless of her earlier intentions, frowning as it leads to the doors of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. She can't just go waltzing in there, but he's beyond those doors…

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks in, frowning when she only sees Lesser Lord Kusanali in the room. Why then is she getting such a strong connection to her wanderer here?

"The Rose of Embers? What are you doing here?" Lesser Lord Kusanali asks when she notices April peeking into the room. April gives a sheepish expression and steps fully into the room.

"It's going to be weird to explain, but…" April briefly explains the connection she has with the wanderer.

"Mm. Would it comfort you to stay here until he and the Traveler return?" Lesser Lord Kusanali asks and April looks at her with surprise.

"Can I?" She asks and Lesser Lord Kusanali nods, a soft smile on her face.

"Mhm. Why don't you stay against one of the walls until they get back here? I need to go back to guiding them through what they're experiencing."

"Okay. I apologize for disrupting you." April murmurs softly, going to sit against one of the walls.

"It's alright." Lesser Lord Kusanali says softly. There's a brief moment of silence as she listens in to whatever they're experiencing. "The plot does not end here. There is more of this story to come. Wanderer, are you able to continue?"

Her words pique April's curiosity about just what the two of them are doing, but maybe the wanderer will tell her when he gets out of there. She tries not to listen in too hard when Lesser Lord Kusanali starts talking again, though her words make her more and more curious.

Which of them -- the Traveler or the Wanderer -- is asking if they're evil in her eyes? She keeps talking and April wishes she could hear all sides of this conversation.

"Regaining your memories means reverting completely to your previous incarnation. All the emotions that you discarded will return to you." Lesser Lord Kusanali says and April frowns. What does she mean by that? Regaining memories? "Are you sure you want to do this?"

There's a brief pause while her question is clearly answered and April wishes she could know which of them is talking. "Very well. Since your mind is made up, I will return to you that which is yours. You have made your decision. Now… take this."

As soon as those words are uttered, April gasps, feeling almost like she can't breathe. She reaches her hands up to her head and shuts her eyes. What she sees next is almost like one of the movies that Fontaine is known for.

Her and the Wanderer… but different. He looks different here - meaner, like how her mind expected him to be when they first met. She's seeing their first meeting, their first mission, first date, first everything.

It's as if she's currently experiencing all of this but from an outsider's point of view, even as she can hear echoes of her own thoughts. Did this happen? How could she forget something like this? How could she forget a person she'd bound herself to?

The last memory takes place in this very room and she frowns as she realizes how this had come to be. Scaramouche had erased himself from Irminsul. Seemingly successfully if not for the Wanderer still existing and everything.

April feels woozy when she comes to, her eyes opening to the green light of the Sanctuary. Her breathing is shaky and she's grateful she'd sat down otherwise she would've fallen over during that.

Is their bond… the reason that she regained her memories here too? Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would know…

"The Rose of Embers? Are you alright?" Lesser Lord Kusanali asks, sounding concerned. "You're breathing heavily…"

"I, yeah… I just… That bond I mentioned might have made me regain my memories of him too." I say and she hums softly.

"If you are tied together by soul… that's not surprising. That kind of soul-bond would want to protect your relationship however it can." She explains and I nod.

Thankfully, it's not much longer before Scaramouche and the Traveler are finished. "The memory recovery seems to have been a success. This dream has served its purpose." Lesser Lord Kusanali says and soon after, the two of them appear in the room again.

April barely holds herself back from lurching to her feet at the sight of Scaramouche. She does stand much slower and she notices the Traveler glance at her from the corner of their eye. She raises a finger to her mouth, not wanting to interrupt whatever conversation's about to happen just yet.

She listens in as Lesser Lord Kusanali welcomes them back. She doesn't know whether to frown or to smile when she hears that Scaramouche no longer wants to go by his old titles, though she can't blame him now that she remembers what The Doctor did. The next time she sees Dottore…

She shakes her head, not wanting to miss out on the conversation. "I'm not planning on returning to the Fatui, and they wouldn't take me back anyway." Those words stick out and she nods decisively. She'd vowed to Scaramouche that she'd leave the Fatui for him so it seems like that's what she'll have to do now.

"Everything may look futile, but it wasn't completely meaningless. At least I made a lot of people forget about me." Despite the almost proud tone, there's a hint of something sadder underneath that has April frowning.

Her eyes widen as she connects it, even though she misses out on what's said next. He thinks she doesn’t remember him. The last time they've spoken she didn't know why she felt connected to him, so of course, he'd think that was still the case!

Still she bides her time through the conversation, even though this subdued nature of his voice is making her yearn to go over to him.

"But humans can't live without a heart, can they? The only thing I could call my heart is… Forget it. Anyway, I gave up trying to become a human a long time ago."

Those words almost make her push off the wall. In addition to the 'ember' pet name of his, one he used sparingly was 'my heart.' She's used it with him too, but it always seemed so special coming from him, given that he didn't have one.

Scaramouche eventually agrees to helping out Nahida behind the scenes and April smiles. She could easily make this same deal and she bets Nahida'd let her. April'd just need to return to Snezhnaya to say her goodbyes to Tartaglia and to leave the Fatui officially… Then she'd be free to go wherever he does.

"Why don't you choose a new name to celebrate?" Nahida asks and there's some banter over who gets to name him.

When the decision seems to be in the hands of the Traveler, they smile and glance over at April again. "I shouldn't. That 'gift' should come from someone more important to you. Isn't that right, Lebranche?"

A small smile spreads across her face and she finally pushes off the wall now that she's been invited into the conversation. The look on her love's face both makes her feel like she's floating and like her heart is breaking into a million little pieces.

That open kind of lovestruck awe mixed with disbelief and fear hurts to look at. "I think it should. But what name should I give the love of my life, hmm?" She teases, needing to joke with him or she'll start to cry. Especially as she sees tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "Suddenly all the ideas I had before are falling short."

"You… You remember… How??" The Wanderer asks and April smiles softly, tugging on him with the bond (another thing that they'd learned they could do. It was certainly nice reassurance for when they couldn't be together). She laughs softly as he reacts like she physically tugged him forward, that reaction making both the Traveler and Paimon look confused. "The bond… of course…" He mumbles softly.

"Bond? What bond?" Paimon asks, never one to stay quiet when she's curious about something.

April laughs softly and gives a minor description of the bond tying them together. The Traveler seems to understand the second she explains that it would carry Scaramouche's immortality over to her, their expression seeming a little soft. Maybe they realize that he deserves someone who can never leave him like that kid did (however unintentionally).

"Also, I wasn't lying to you when we met earlier… I didn't remember you then. But I regained my memories of you just now." April says as it strikes her that he might think she'd been lying to him.

The Wanderer snorts softly, his expression softer than he'd ever consider showing in front of the Traveler. But he's too happy to hold it back right now. "I know. I remember how you acted. I don't think you could fake that kind of curiosity."

April smiles back. "Well! Your new name… I think I have one." She lets out a soft laugh. "You know, I'd been researching names while we were apart just in case but I didn't realize you were this important to me so most of them won't work anymore."

The Traveler blinks when The Wanderer laughs softly. Sure, they've heard him laugh before but it was always mean-spirited, mocking laughter. Not this bubbly, genuine, sweet laughter. "You sound like you have one in mind, ember." He says and April grins, nodding her head.

"Keito." She says. The Traveler and Paimon look a mix of curious and confused at the name while the Wanderer's face goes pink, a shy smile on his face. "Can I explain to them or do you want this to be a secret?" She asks, half-teasing and half-genuine.

"Go ahead." He muses, reaching up to hide himself with his hat in the cutest motion of shyness April's ever seen.

She giggles and turns to the Traveler. "It has multiple meanings depending on the kanji that you use but the one I chose it for was 'kei' meaning beautiful or lovely and 'to' meaning 'to fly in the sky.' Another one that fits is where 'kei' means 'to be happy' since it's what he deserves." She explains softly, giggling more as the Wanderer hides further under his hat.

"So, will you go by Keito, darling?" She asks quietly, trying to ignore the amused, almost touched expressions of the Traveler and Paimon.

"Yeah." He says with a nod.

"There. Now you have a name of your own." Nahida says, looking all-too-fond as well. It would almost make April embarrassed, but she's never felt like she should hide how much she loves Keito.

"What about a nickname? Are you done yet?" Keito asks, looking over at Paimon, clearly trying to get the attention off of him.

"Uh, uhhh…. Still thinking. Stop rushing me…" Paimon says and Keito offers a small smile.

"Take your time. I don't need to see you again until you've thought of one." He says.

The Traveler then asks what he plans to do next and Keito frowns. "Everyone who manipulated me and made me suffer will have to pay the price."

"You mean, the Fatui?" Paimon asks and he sighs.

"The Doctor, at least." Keito says, an amused smile on his face at the way April scowls at the code name. She agrees that Dottore will get what's coming to him.

"And you, Lebranche?" The Traveler asks and April glances over at Keito with a soft smile.

"Mm… If you're asking to see if I'll continue to be a threat to you, drop your worries. You won't have to worry about me getting in your way." She says and the Traveler both seems confused and seems to get it even without her explicitly stating it.

If Keito's no longer a Harbinger, then there's not much of a reason to stick around in the Fatui. The only other person she cares about there is Tartaglia and she's sure he'd understand her leaving once she explains it to him.

There's a brief bit of conversation between Keito and the Traveler about the Raiden Gokaden. At Keito's self-deprecating (death-wishing?) words, April frowns and he shoots her a reassuring look that just makes her frown more.

"Goodbye, wise deity, and you two." Keito murmurs to the three before turning on his heel, holding his hand out to April. Once she takes it, the two of them exit the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

April and Keito walk in silence for a while until they reach the city proper. It's an unspoken decision to head back to the accommodations that Nahida provided them. They can worry about meals later, but for now, that kind of peace and quiet is sorely needed.

They sit down on the bed once they're alone and April looks at him, still frowning. "That was a stupid move." She says softly and he winces.

"I know."

Her expression softens at the guilt in his voice and she takes both his hands in hers. "I think I know why you did it so I'll spare the questioning, but love… that terrified me. I suddenly couldn't feel you anymore and--" Her emotions swell up, cutting off her voice as tears spring to her eyes.

As soon as he spots the tears, his arms are wrapping around her and pulling her close as he mentally beats himself up for being the one to make her cry. "I'm sorry… Hah, and the worst part is it didn't even work." He says and she makes a noise that's half a sob, half a laugh.

"Ku-- Love, just promise you'll never do something like that again." April orders, but she's too upset for it to sound right. "We're bonded - what one does affects the other."

"I promise." He says, rubbing a hand over her back as he holds her close. He buries his face into her hair, his whole body feeling shaky. "I'm so sorry… I never thought I would be the one to betray you."

Her eyes snap open at that and she tries to pull back, but his grip on her is too tight, so she simply wraps her arms around him and tugs him closer. "Baby, no. Shush. I know you wanted to save your old friends… I'm not viewing this as a betrayal - I doubt you really thought much about the repercussions of your actions."

Her words open the floodgates and he clings to her, tears wetting her hair. "I was so stupid… I should have known it'd affect you too. I thought you wouldn't remember me…"

Her heart breaks at the pain in his voice and she holds him closer still. She doesn't know how to respond. If they hadn't done the bond when they did, it would've affected her more. She wouldn't have remembered him when the time came.

"That's in the past. I do remember you so it doesn't matter." She says decisively. "Either way, I forgive you and I'm glad I have you again."

He sobs softly in her arms and pulls back, looking at her with tears streaming down his face. "You're too good to me…" He says softly, his expression turning a mix of guilty and loving. "You've always been too good for me."

April frowns and leans in to kiss him softly. "Shush. Remember how you get when my thoughts are mean to me. I'm not going to let you be mean to my favorite person. So don't let those thoughts win." She murmurs softly after the kiss. She then proceeds to pepper little kisses over his whole face until a soft smile replaces his frown.

He nods and shifts so he can rest his forehead against her shoulder. "So, what now?" He asks softly, sounding tired.

"Mm… I quit being a Harbinger and come join you here. We help Nahida like you promised and I stay by your side for the rest of eternity." She says, half-teasing but meaning everything. Even that last part.

Keito lets out a soft laugh. "Alright. I will never understand how you can be so loyal to someone like me." He says and she huffs softly. "I know, I know. Don't let the thoughts win. But still."

"It's because I love you, Ku-- I mean, Keito." She says and he snorts.

"You know when I said I was no longer going by my old titles… That excludes you - you can keep up your old pet names for me. Like I'm still planning on calling you 'ember' so…" He says and she hums, leaning over and kissing his forehead.

"Alright, Kuni. Let me know if it ever bothers you, though." She says and he hums. "So, what do you want to do now?"

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "You'll have to eat eventually…" He muses, "But don't some of these restaurants stay open awhile?"

"Mhm." She agrees and he pulls back to look her in the eye.

"Then could you hold me a while? Today's been… a lot." He says quietly. "We can get you some food when we both have rested."

April smiles and reaches a hand up to gently brush his cheek softly. "Of course. I'm always here for you, Keito." She says quietly, smiling as he leans into her touch.

"Hah, that's going to take a while to get used to." Keito muses, looking at her with an amused expression.

"Well, the one thing we do have is time." She says and he nods, a satisfied smile on his face.

"True. Now, hold me, please?" Keito asks, pulling off the kimono that's over his bodysuit. Might as well be extra comfortable in case they fall asleep like this. April removes her boots and once they're both comfortable, they lay down.

April's head ends up resting on the pillow while Keito's is tucked up against her chest. Both of them have their arms wrapped around the other. "Comfy, my love?" She asks softly and he hums.

"I am. Thank you, my heart." He says. "Also, thank you for the name… Were you really considering it even before I got my vision?" He asks and she laughs softly.

"I did have other name choices in mind, yes. Keito was actually lower on the list until I saw the vision on your chest. I just knew it had to be that one then." She says and he laughs, snuggling closer.

"Isn't it sappy you giving me a name with 'beautiful' in the meaning?" He asks quietly and she giggles.

"Like you wouldn't do the same if the roles were reversed!" She says and he snickers softly.

"True."

They both fall silent, content to hold the other for a while. Today was a lot for both of them. Keito had to relive hundreds of years of memories and while April only had to relive about four, her heightened emotions have given her a headache.

So, for now, they rest together. Tomorrow will bring new challenges and things to do, but they're safe for now knowing that the one who loves them most still does and that their bond is as strong as ever.

[fullmetxl]

Characters: Scaramouche / Wanderer & Gender-Neutral Reader Tags: Spoilers for the 3.2 Archon Quest, Character Study, Romance(ish) Summary: Because who is He now, if not a discarded puppet? He’s mine, you think with pursed lips and burning eyes. And I won’t give him up. — Scaramouche is defeated. You intend to save him. A Scaramouche x GN!Reader one-shot that explores the 3.2 fight and its aftermath.

Read it on AO3.

Scaramouche :

“No!”

Electricity sizzles in the air, a sound so deep and deathly that it leaves all those who listen to it shattered.

But the Dendro Archon, Lesser God Kusanali, Buer, the God of Wisdom is unrelenting in her pursuit. She does not listen to the pleas coming out of the prototype of a man. She extends her small hand, beckoning the Gnosis forward and out of the carcass in front of her.

“No, wait.” His pleas increase tenfolds, tone shaking with all the emotions he can muster.

Everything he has ever felt comes crashing down—the love of a mother’s touch, the betrayal of being casted aside, the grief of losing a friend, and the anger… so much anger. It all comes undone before him, before his very eyes.

Nahida looks up at him, green eyes glowing with an understanding of things that were, things long past. Her bright eyes shine with empathy and wisdom.

Why does she pity him? Him, a God made anew?

He grits his teeth, emotions flowing out of him like a river cascading down a mountain. He leans all his weight forward, arm fully extending out. “Please.”

But Nahida never stops. She continues to extend her hand, the Electro Gnosis a mere distance away from her grasp—the purple-pink hue so reminiscent of The Sacred Sakura, once a beautiful sight. But just like the blooms that descend upon Inazuma, so too must everything come to pass.

And yet, he can’t give it up.

That power should be his. Is his, by right. Was that not the reason he was created in the first place, after all? Was that not why his own mother created him in her own image, a vessel for Godhood?

Because who is He now, if not a discarded puppet?

“That’s mine, don’t even try!” he cries out with all that he has, pushing himself forward, his whole weight placed on his mere volition—his desire to be what he has always meant to be. As he does, he feels the tubes that had been holding him back slowly come loose, the strings pulling his fate snapping.

No, no, no.

This can’t be how this ends.

“I'll never go back…” he whispers frantically, pain leaping out of him. Images of a dark void filled with nothing but cold loneliness and grief come surging back.

Shakkei Pavilion, the tombstone enacted for him.

He won’t go back.

But without a Gnosis, without a heart of his own… It's all been meaningless, hasn’t it?

The Gnosis finally falls into Nahida’s hands, and with it, his vision begins to pulsate violet. Electro energy splinters through the course of his veins. He feels the connection with his true purpose fade away.

His body falls and everything becomes a blur. Tears cloud his vision.

He has already given up.

Without the Gnosis, he’s finished.

The existence of what once Kunikuzushi was small and ugly. He is no longer The Ballader or Scaramouche.

And if he’s not a God? Then he’s an empty carcass, filled with nothing but shattered dreams.

A broken marionette.

When oblivion comes crashing down on him, it envelopes him like a mother would embrace her babe, dark and tender.

Everything drifts away.

------------

You:

They call him Scaramouche, The Ballader. The Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers.

You know him as Kunikuzushi.

“No, wait. Please.” His voice comes twisted and ragged, a burst of emotions echoing in the chambers.

You have seldom heard him reach this breaking point. When he was young and made anew, perhaps. But these emotions have not flowed out of him in a very long time.

My mother discarded me because I cried too much, he once confessed to you when he had first been brought in, before he assumed the title of The Balladeer.

Perhaps that is why he chose not to feel.

Your heart twists in your chest, but you stay put. You must not be seen, after all, least you want to attract the Traveler’s attention. The Traveler cannot know who you are or know that a Fatui Agent has entered this sanctuary. You glance towards the blonde standing near the entrance, its floating companion nearby.

Harbingers aren’t afraid to make a dramatic entrance when they need to but you are no Harbinger. Your talents lie in stealth and secrecy, and so, you stay put.

There’s also the fact that you aren’t here on official business. You are here because of Kunikuzushi and nothing else. Though Il Dottore may have chosen to leave him behind, you aren’t ready to cast him away so quickly.

He’s mine, you think with pursed lips and burning eyes. And I won’t give him up.

You hear the fall, the crash and you almost jump out of your hiding spot. Your knuckles turn white as you dig your nails into your palms.

Dust fills the air.

You listen as Lesser God Kusanali and The Traveler chatter away, and amber light surges through the sanctuary. You glance back, watching a golden Knowledge Capsule—or what appears to be one, anyway—floating in the air.

“That’s right. This… is the last memory of my predecessor,” you hear Lesser God Kusanali explain, her eyes glowing like emerald orbs, infinite and wise.

Lesser God Kusanali, the Traveler and the little floating entity that you think referred to itself as Paimon begin to fade, their bodies transporting to another realm.

As soon as you are certain that they have teleported far away, you walk towards where the would-be-god stands. Beneath it, a rubble of debris stands, a cloud of hazing fog. You squint, trying to make sense of what you are seeing, your nose dry from the dust.

And then, you see him.

A broken marionette, twisted on the ground.

You are kneeling next to him in an instant, your eyes reeling in his body in a frantic and desperate search. You find he is alive and sigh in relief. He is wounded, several cuts on parts of his body, but there’s not much blood. Rather, the more pressing issue is the fact that he fell from such a height. It is likely he suffers a concussion.

You glance up from where he descended, scowling. Such a height would have killed most mortals.

Then again, Scaramouche isn’t human.

“Scaramouche,” you murmur under your breath, voice soft and hand softer still.

“Balladeer,” you say in an almost frantic prayer. You lift his head onto your thighs, caressing the beads of sweat away from the creases of his forehead, gently tucking strands of hair back.

“Kunikuzushi…” You graze your fingers over his soft skin and call upon your vision, trailing down his cheeks softly.

Kunikuzushi doesn’t awaken. Instead, he appears to be crying, silent tears streaming down his face.

You caress the tears with your thumbs, closing your eyes.

“I would save you.”

A plea to him, a promise to yourself.

You feel your powers unravel before you.

Light beckons forward, shines through you as your healing touch cascades down and trickles down onto Scaramouche’s pale skin. He glows white, like fireflies flowing together in a harmonious dance in Liyue Harbour on a cool autumn night.

You let your magic fully encompass him.

What you find is pain. So much pain. Insurmountable levels of pain.

You’ve known all along how much pain Scaramouche carries with him. But right now, it engulfs you, ensnares you and you have to bite your lip to not cry out from the pain.

So you you just push more healing magic into him, a wave of nausea settling at the pit of your stomach.

How long you let your vision embrace him, you know not. But by the time you come back to your senses, you are drenched in sweat, your hands trembling from the effort.

“You are helping him,” a voice lulls you back to reality and you snap your head towards the chirpy voice.

Lesser God Kunali stands in front of you, her child-like features both ethereal and dainty. You shudder, reaching for your weapon but she shakes her head.

“At ease, Snezhnayan spy. I mean you no harm.”

You exhale, eying the Dendro Archon cautiously. You are a good judge of people and though you have never encountered a God before—only a would-be-god vagrant from Inazuma—you find no lies in her expression. You allow her to approach the two of you with a nod.

“I am Nahida,” she says as if it were a casual thing in the world.

“I know who you are,” you mutter back, dark eyes looking towards Scaramouche. You feel her presence next to you as she sits down, hands reaching above.

Green energy flows out of her, slowly and surely, and you can’t help but admire the sheer power she exudes.

Still, you keep your guards up.

“He is in pain,” she points out.

You nod once, continuing to push your healing magic into his wounded body. She places a hand on top of yours.

“And you are tired.”

You scowl, jerking your hand away from hers.

“Don’t presume to know me, Buer. I will not relent until he opens his eyes again.”

“You bear him much love,” Nahida points out and you don’t say anything to confirm or deny her allegations. “I wonder,” she begins, tilting her head curiously, “What caused him to stray away from this love to seek out Godhood?”

“You know nothing,” you snarl, glaring at the Dendro Archon with such venom that you even surprise yourself. “He is not a puzzle for you to figure out, a pastime for you to waste your time on. He is mine, mine to do with as I please, you hear me? And I will not have you try to twist him into a story that fits your narrative.”

“I see.”

You eye Nahida, finding her with a serene expression on her face, looking up at the machine that once bore Scaramouche.

She stays silent for a long while, listening to your healing magic fluidly encompass Scaramouche, a steady hum echoing in the sanctuary.

“He almost did it, you know. Reach Godhood.” She breaks the silence. “But a God filled with anger is a curse for the people of Teyvat. I could not let him be.”

You lick your dried lips, eyes flickering to her form, and speak, “He is relentless and stubborn. I have never known him to stray away from a goal once he set his mind to it. But I am glad you stopped him, I do not think this outcome would have been the right one for him.”

You know such words are selfish and unbecoming of even yourself. But whether they are uttered out loud to a God or just thought in the privacy of your mind, it is how you feel.

“Interesting,” Nahida continues. “You say this despite your allegiances to the Fatui Order?”

“Yes.” You glare at her again, a lofty element to your tone. “Just because I serve the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything the Harbingers do. I serve Her will, not theirs.”

She nods with a small smile. “Tell me, what would you do for him, if you could?” she asks.

You glance away, voice more soft. “I would give him a heart, if I had one to spare.”

She sighs, a content exhale.

“Come, you are tired. And I have it in me to help you, Fatui Spy.”

You shake your head, coughing lightly as the fatigue begins to grip you, your insides twisting in pain.

She once again places one of her child hands on top of yours. This time, you don’t refuse the touch. “His wounds are deep—both psychological and physical. He will not awaken now, he will need time. And you need to rest. Let me create a shelter for the both of you.”

“Why?” You give her a suspicious glance.

“I see truth in your heart. And that is the greatest Wisdom of all,” she explains as she stands on her two feet, her white curls falling gracefully.

You hesitate, glancing back at Scaramouche, whose pain still seems as deep as the sea. Your healing touch has only grazed the surface.

As much as you hate to admit it, Nahida is right.

“I promise, where I take you, no Fatui or mercenary can find you. You will be safe,” she says.

You stop healing Scaramouche and rise on your feet, looking down at the child.

“Very well, Buer, God of Wisdom. I will take your offer. But stab me in the back and know I will make sure your people never have an Archon to ever pray to,” you threaten as you give her an icy stare.

Though you know you are far from being able to execute such threats given your exhaustion, you fully intend to make it clear to Nahida that going back on her word is not an option.

“A contractual way of negotiating. I almost feel like I am in Liyue. I accept,” she says with a hum, placing one of her hands on Scaramouche’s leg, the other reaching out to you.

You take her small hand into yours, sitting down next to Scaramouche. You feel your body begin to tingle, green energy encompassing the other of you.

As you look upon Scaramouche one last time, you notice his pale face, the way it glistens with tears of hope and pain.

Kunikuzushi. Scaramouche. The Ballader. Or whatever you may choose to call yourself in the future.

Please, just.

Don’t die.

[dango-milk]

ivy (thoma’s version)

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand; taking mine, but it’s been promised to another.

an ode to heartbreak masterlist: (x)

word count: 7254 (the longest of my works to date!)

genre: angst, smut

pairings: thoma x fem!reader, yan!raiden shogun x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW (minors pls block the #nsfw-dango tag!), mentions of blood, toxic relationships, yandere, spoilers for the inazuma archon quest (2.0 only)

additional notes: three cheers for thoma finally becoming a playable character! it took me until the end of the 2.0 archon quest to fully warm up to him, but since then I have been wanting to shove my face into his chest and let his beautiful pecs suffocate me. this story was born from that desire. consume and enjoy :) (p.s. no 2.1 spoilers, please!)

this also contains a reference to a very famous (eerie) story. can you guess what it is?

want to be tagged when future oth works come out? click here!

To some in Inazuma, the rolling grey clouds and the smell of petrichor were indicative of the Raiden Shogun’s power and might. Some took it even further, saying that it was a sign of her displeasure, warning others not to disturb the peace that she had so carefully crafted in the nation.

If it was the latter, Thoma wouldn’t mind provoking the Electro Archon on the daily—as long as it meant he could see you.

If anyone were to count the number of times a bolt of lightning struck, in the same spot, mere inches away from the Kamisato Estate, it would raise questions. But the act of looking the other way had been turned into an art form by the people of Inazuma, and for once, for that he was immensely grateful.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to gaze over your naked form, illuminated only when a streak of lightning tears through the sky. The beads of sweat on your chest had long dried; the only proof that he’d been with you was the slick between your thighs.

He could stay like this forever, he thinks, tracing shapes across your bare back, occasionally replacing his fingers with his lips as you both listen to the symphony of rain and thunder play outside.

Though he wants nothing more than to fall asleep like this—and to wake up with you still by his side in the morning—you wouldn’t stay that long. You couldn’t.

So, he keeps his eyes open.

“You could tell her that I proposed,” he offers.

You crack an eyelid open, peering over at him curiously before snorting quietly.

“I’m serious. “Chief Retainer of the Kamisato Clan” isn’t a title to scoff at, you know. Consider it a mark of friendship from the Yashiro Commission to the Almighty Shogun.”

He says the last two words in a mocking tone, which you giggle at. Thoma pulls your shoulder until you roll onto your back, so he could devour your smile (the one that he never passes up the opportunity to see) with his lips. He shamelessly moans in your mouth when you return the kiss with a passion that rivals the power of his own Vision, your fingers finding their home in his blonde locks.

When he pulls away, his eyes move from your swollen lips and trail down the graceful slope of your neck. They stop and narrow at the sight of the purple gem, nestled gently in the hollow of your throat, pinned to a red ribbon wrapped around your neck.

Despite being a firm advocate against the Vision Hunt Decree, he abhors the one you had been given. It was nothing but a reminder of who you belonged to, and the choker even matches the one on the figure you had been sworn forever to serve. He’s tried multiple times in vain to rip it off you, but the seemingly flimsy ribbon was stronger than it looked. Though he wants nothing more than to see it off you (occasionally replaced by his own hand), he has an uneasy feeling that that scenario was not something he would want to see.

So he lets all feelings of rage, resentment, and longing simmer in his gut—waiting for the blessed day that he can let all of them out.

Thoma is pulled out of his thoughts by your hand finding its way onto his face. You smile at him gently, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, and his heart lurches; he presses his lips to your palm in response.

“She would never agree to that,” you whisper regretfully, and Thoma groans quietly before nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

“How would you know?”

You kiss the top of his head, and his brain short-circuits. “Because I know her. Better than anyone else.”

Thoma’s brow furrows at your words. He stares at the skin of your neck, and he’s seized by the sudden urge to mark you as his. Though he already has—multiple times in the past, and tonight was no exception—he wants nothing more than to cover your throat, jaw, collarbones, everything, in shades of purple darker than your Vision. That was the way, he thinks, to prove to everyone who you really belonged to, that his lips were engraved in you deeper than whatever the Shogun gives you.

He wants you to be his. Wholly, truly his, and he wants the whole of Teyvat to know it. He wants your body on his every second of every day, wants your heart in his hands, wants your smile all to himself. He wants to fill you to the brim, until every single cell in your body is singing his praises; wants to breathe in your scent until he’s choking on your essence.

He wants nothing else, no one else. One look in your eyes, and he knows you feel the same.

“Then we’ll run.”

You hum questioningly.

Thoma lifts his head and props it on his hand. “We’ll run away, then we can be together.”

You smile. “Alright,” you say, clearly humoring him. “Where would we go?”

“Mmm, anywhere. We could go to Fontaine, or to Liyue...” He traces your skin as he talks, brushing over a nipple and smirking as your breath stutters. “Ah, I know. Mondstadt.”

“Why Mondstadt?”

“For starters, it’s the City of Freedom.” He twirls a piece of your hair between his fingers. “It’s where they produce the finest wine—”

“Dandelion Wine, right?”

“Yeah, Dandelion Wine. And you know what the best thing is?”

“What?”

He leans down to brush his nose against yours. “It never rains there.”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can you imagine?”

“What I’d give to see you in fair weather all the time.”

You pull his face down, and his lips connect with yours again, but it’s feather-light compared to the others he’d shared with you tonight. He finds it the most intoxicating, the most indicative of your true feelings for him, but he doesn’t kid himself. He knows what it means.

You confirm his hunch when you whisper that you have to go.

Thoma groans again and all but starfishes on top of you, keeping you from getting up. You let out a surprised oof as his full weight settles on you, followed by your breathless laughter.

“Thoma.”

“Mm?”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Mm.”

You call his name once more, and he responds by wrapping his arms around you tightly. You sigh and place a hand on his hair, patting down the tousled locks. The touch is strangely comforting to him, and it only fuels him to keep you down.

“Thoma, the storm’s lightening up.”

“I don’t care.”

“I have to go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

His voice almost breaks, and he knows you’ve noticed when he feels your heart race and when you halt your attempts to get him off you; for a second, he thinks he’s finally succeeded at getting you to stay.

“She’s going to wonder where I am.”

So cruel, he thinks. Whether it was directed towards you, for breaking his heart every single night; the Raiden Shogun, for claiming you as her own for her messed-up idea of eternity; or to the world, for cursing him to fall in love with someone he could never have—he still wasn’t sure.

You break his heart, every single time you come to him under a mourning sky. And like the fool that he is, he still lets you in.

Thoma finally rolls off you, and though you attempt to patch his wounded heart by leaving a lingering kiss on his lips, the damage has already been dealt. His eyes rake over you longingly as you slip into the clothes you arrived in, before doing the same with his own. You dress in silence, the magic of the night dissipating along with the same clouds that had brought you to him.

He finishes before you do, and he walks over to help fasten the belt around your waist. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to place gentle kisses on the back of your neck, and revels in the contented sighs that he pulls from you with every touch.

One of your hands slips into his, and the other finds its way back into his hair as your eyes lock with his. He hopes you see it—the love, adoration, and longing—in his eyes, mirroring yours. He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, feeling your breath fan against his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he replies. “More than you know.”

Thoma gives you one last searing kiss, and regretfully steps back to watch you disappear in a bolt of lightning.

To some in Inazuma, your position as the Raiden Shogun’s Hand was a blessing. You were one of the privileged few to be gifted an Electro Vision during the Vision Hunt Decree. You had access to classified information, contacts with high-profile people, and the ear of the supreme ruler of the Nation of Eternity.

To you, it was all horseshit.

“Your Excellency,” you murmur in greeting as you slide the door open.

“(Y/N),” the Raiden Shogun responds. “Close the door behind you.”

You oblige, bowing deeply before making your way over to her. She sits at her desk, scrolls upon scrolls taking up the entire table, presumably detailing reports of Vision hunts all over the country. On another table were documents needing her approval—documents that she let you (and nobody else) handle.

“Where were you last night?” the Shogun asks, just as you take your seat in front of your designated pile.

“I took a walk through Nazuchi Beach, my lady,” you say, your practiced lie rolling smoothly off your tongue. “I was looking for some Dendrobiums to adorn your suite.”

“At night?”

“I have been told they bloom best at night, yes.”

The Raiden Shogun clicks her tongue. “I forbid you from going there from now on. The Sangonomiya Resistance frequents that area. If you wish to pick some flowers, have the Shogunate do it for you.”

“Yes, my lady.” You cross out the Nazuchi Beach from your mental list of excuses.

A servant knocks on the door, announcing tea, and you take the liberty of carrying it to the Shogun’s desk. She keeps her eyes on her papers as you work silently and efficiently, the scent of jasmine wafting through the room as you pour the tea into two cups. The Shogun normally took her tea with cream and sugar, but the jasmine smells fresh, and you decide that it was best left alone.

She seems to agree with you, accepting her cup with a wordless nod, the hand lingering longer than normal on yours being the closest thing to “thank you” you would ever hear from her. Sometimes you wonder if the Shogun really does favor you; the Vision was one thing, but her general demeanor was confusing to many—even you. It really was like walking through an open field during a thunderstorm, not knowing when and where lightning will strike.

Fortunately or unfortunately for you, you never have to doubt long. You’ve known the Raiden Shogun for most of your life, ever since your mother had traded you off for the chance to keep her Vision. You remember how the Shogun had given you a quick once-over, before agreeing to take you into her household, and taking your mother’s Vision anyway.

You knew there was something wrong with the Electro Archon within weeks of your stay at her palace. The abrupt switching of moods, the lack of luster in her eyes, the ruthless enforcement of the Vision Hunt Decree...it was enough for anyone to deduce that she clearly had some screws loose (though they daren’t even think it, under pain of death).

Your survival instincts kicked in then, and you immediately molded yourself to the Shogun’s expectations of you. You had always been a rather observant person, and it didn’t take long for you to decide that what she needed the most (at least, what you wanted her to think she needed from you to keep you from getting punted to the ends of the earth), which was someone who could comfort her. Who could serve as her anchor, her tether to this world, while she switched between her delusions of grandeur and the painful truth of reality.

You were right, as you almost always were. The first night that she found you in her bed, offering to let her forget everything for a while, she agreed almost immediately. Soon after, it was always your words she wanted to hear, your arms she craved, your fingers inside her...all to escape from the ghosts of her war-torn past.

What you didn’t expect was her developing something deeper, almost darker, for you. When she started to ban you from going to certain places without her, forcing you to stay in her room while she entertained officials in the palace, and fastening the Vision around your neck, something told you that you had walked into a trap. That you hadn’t been the one controlling her—in some unexpected twist of fate, you had been outsmarted. A fly that managed to evade the web, but flew straight into the spider’s arms.

You belonged to her, and not the other way around.

“Shall I have breakfast brought to you here, my lady?” you ask, once she puts down her cup.

“No,” was her curt response.

You nod quietly, before excusing yourself to walk over the desk and the stack of scrolls awaiting your review. You pick the one on the top, which piques your interest due to the fact that it was sealed, unlike the others. You break it, stopping just at the heading, in case it was for the Shogun’s eyes only.

You hold back a resigned sigh, before rolling it back up and walking back to her. “The details for the 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony, my lady.”

“Oh.” The Shogun purses her lips as she unrolls the scroll fully, and you take advantage of her brief lapse of attention on you to check the name of the next unfortunate soul.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your body suddenly feels like it’s been dunked in ice-cold water.

“Hmm. Interesting,” the Shogun murmurs, but her voice rings in your ears. You pray you don’t topple over from the sheer horror that had seized your system and rendered you immobile, lest you give her even an inkling of how you were connected to the person written on the paper.

“That’s…” you fight to keep your voice steady, your mind racing at a million miles an hour. “That won’t sit well with the Yashiro Commission.”

“The Yashiro Commission is part of the Tri-Commission. Even though they are not actively involved in the Vision Hunt Decree, they know orders are orders.” She signs the bottom of the scroll, which to you looked more and more like a death warrant.

Before she puts the scroll back onto the pile of finished material, you reach your hand out towards it. The Shogun looks at you questioningly.

“I—we must inform the Yashiro Commission, at least,” you suggest.

“Why?”

“My lady, the Yashiro Commission is looked upon favorably by the people. If you take their...their Chief Retainer’s Vision, that would stir up some trouble.”

The Shogun shrugs. Her nonchalance when it came to opposition had always been frightening to you; her unwavering determination in the pursuit of eternity seemed to trump what others thought of her. “We can send out more of the guards to quell unrest.”

“Unrest that can be taken advantage of by the Resistance,” you reason, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. “If we could inform the Yashiro Commission ahead of time, they could make it look like...like they agree with you. It would serve as further proof that the Tri-Commission is strong, oriented only towards your vision of eternity.”

The Shogun seems to ponder your words carefully, and you can see in her eyes that she’s beginning to turn. “It could also stop some people from joining the Resistance,” you offer.

She says nothing more in reply, and you take it as an opportunity to press further. "I'll take this to the Yashiro Commission, then. When I come back, I—"

"No."

"...my lady?"

"Have someone else do it." She turns her attention to the next scroll, unfurling it as she talks. "It is unbecoming, having the Raiden Shogun's Hand run around like some servant. You will stay here."

You swallow thickly. Like some well-tuned machine, you shift immediately to your next course of action. It was the best way—tried and tested—for you to get what you want, though it was the method you liked the least.

Ever since the memory of Thoma's hands had seared itself into your skin, branding you as his and his alone.

"As you wish, my lady," you say, setting the scroll aside. "You are very kind to worry about me."

The Shogun hums in response. Your hands drift towards her shoulders, and she jolts slightly when you finally make contact.

"Your shoulders are tense," you tell her, in the closest thing to a lover's whisper you could muster. "You've been up late again."

"Many things require my attention," she quips.

"Nightmares?"

Her writing stops, and you sense the air for any signs of her displeasure. When you find none, you sigh—to you, it was of relief; to her, you know it sounds exasperated.

"I should have been there," you murmur, stooping ever so slightly to level your mouth with her ear, watching as she shivers when your breath dances over her skin. "I shouldn't have left you last night. I'm sorry."

"You...I…"

You say her name, her real name, and she nearly keens in response. But, ever the consummate fighter, she struggles to keep her composure.

"Let me take over today," you urge. "Get some sleep. You know how it pains me to see you suffer."

"I'm quite alright," she huffs, but you see right through her as she picks up her pen shakily.

You press your lips against the side of her neck, a spot that you've discovered after years of practice was a switch of sorts. It takes one kiss to turn the mighty Raiden Shogun into putty in your hands, and it's evident by the way she drops her pen again and shakily raises her hands to thread through your hair.

You close your eyes as you continue your ministrations up and down her neck. It was a simple, handy trick, to distract you from the pain of being in someone else's arms, instead of the ones you craved the most. Though the scent and the taste were different—for a moment, at least—you could pretend it was Thoma.

Thoma…

You were painfully aware that he would eventually face the Vision Decree one of these days. But you hadn't expected it to be now; now, of all days, when all he had been doing was filling your head with visions of the future, your future with him, in lands far away, where it never rains.

Thoma, who had caught your eye on one of the blessed days you were allowed out on your own. Thoma, whose kindred soul shone brighter than what was allowed in Inazuma. Thoma, the only one who had broken through the invisible wall that the Raiden Shogun had built around you, just to see your face.

You couldn't lose him.

You would not lose him.

"My lady," you whisper. In your mind, you were saying his name. "My sweet lady."

You drag one of your hands down from her shoulders to her breasts, pushing the corset down to fondle her already hard nipples, and listening intently to the moans you pull from her.

Your other hand goes down even further.

"Wait," the Shogun says. "Wait, someone could see—ah—"

"Let them see," you whisper, letting your tongue drag across her bare shoulder as your fingers pull up her skirt, and find its way to her soaking cunt with practiced ease.

The Shogun squirms in her seat, and her head tips back as wanton moans spill from her open mouth. A small part of you found it endearing, and prior to knowing Thoma, you thought that there was no noise sweeter than the Shogun's singing as your fingers scissor her pussy mercilessly. But that had been quickly replaced by the sound of Thoma's laughter, and the sound of his strangled moans whenever he pushed inside you.

When you feel her tighten around your fingers, you pull them out, turning away from her so she doesn't see you wiping it on your hip. "Well, I'll be off to the library—"

"W-wait."

You smile.

“My lady,” the attendant at the door of the Yashiro Commission greets you, bowing as low as if you had been the Raiden Shogun herself. “What can I do for you today?”

“Is Lord Ayato or Lady Ayaka around? I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.”

“Lord Ayato is currently in a meeting, which he mentioned would take precedence over everything else. Lady Ayaka should be resting in her study, but I could have the Chief Retainer relay everything to them…”

You briefly consider going to Thoma directly. The chain of command still follows even with him in the picture, and the target was him after all. But you were terrified; his presence alone would make you lose track of time and all sense of control, both essential if you want to get him out in one piece.

“Someone call my name?”

Your head whips around, and you nearly drop the scroll you’d meticulously written all your plans on, intended only for the sympathetic eyes of the Kamisato siblings. Thoma stands there, his easy smile a beacon of light in the darkest night. Your mind, clouded with misery over the possibility of losing the first person who had dared to even touch your hand, stutters to a stop when he shoots you a look that you dare describe as a look of love and adoration.

You have half a mind to drop everything, grab his hand, and go as far away from this godforsaken place as you could.

“What a nice surprise, my lady,” Thoma says, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his lips. He peers up at you through his lashes and winks, and your head spins. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Thoma, the Almighty Shogun’s Hand has information to pass to the Kamisato heads,” the attendant answers for you.

“Is that so?” He keeps his voice light, though you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at the mention of your title. “I’d be happy to relay it to them for you. Can’t have the Almighty Shogun’s darling going through all that trouble, hmm?”

You frown, and he only laughs, walking past you towards the doors. “I’m just joking. At least stay for some tea?”

“We can have it brought to the sitting room,” the attendant offers.

“No,” you say, and Thoma looks back at you in surprise. “I...this is a private conversation, so…”

You hope your eyes convey the gravity of the situation; thankfully, Thoma gets it. “We can speak in the room in the east wing,” he decides. “Please give us some privacy, as the lady has requested.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Thoma gestures for you to go on before him, and you oblige. You feel his hand—as if you had your own force of gravity—drift towards your waist, and you slow just long enough for his fingers to brush against your side.

Servants bow as you pass, but you barely spare them a glance as you pick up the pace, your knowledge of the estate’s layout guiding you through the seemingly endless corridors. Thoma follows closely, silent as the grave; you were sure that there were a million questions running in that gorgeous head of his. He was as smart as you, after all.

You practically run into the room he’d mentioned earlier, and he nearly slams the door shut behind him. You drop the scroll you’d cradled so carefully to your person, and, letting out a small sob, you run straight into his arms.

He catches you with a surprised grunt, the confusion in his beautiful face only spurring you on to cover it in kisses.

"Slow down, my darling," he laughs breathlessly. "I know I'm irresistible, but slow down."

Once you had calmed down enough for your breathing to become steady, you wipe your tears away. Thoma cradles your chin and tilts it upwards to meet his gaze. His eyes hold so much warmth, love, and comfort; you weren't sure what you'd do without them.

"What, sweet girl?"

"You…" Your lip trembles violently. "The 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony…"

You've become so accustomed to his every gesture, every expression, that you know the exact moment when he connects the dots just by looking at his face. His brow furrows, and his lips part slightly before he sighs, dropping his hand from your face to grasp sections of your skirt in his hands. "When?"

"A fortnight from today," you whisper.

He nods to the scroll you'd tossed aside. "What's that?"

"We need to get you out of here. Far, far away. Back to Mondstadt, where you belong."

Thoma laughs, and you almost want to hit him from how lightly he's taking all of this. "And how do we do that? The Sakoku Decree is in force, you know."

"I'll take you there," you say, and his smile drops completely. "With my current abilities, I can only teleport short places at a time. And I can't...teleport us to a location that I don't know visually, so there's bound to be some hiccups, but...I'll be willing to try."

"And who are the guards going to arrest once the ceremony begins?"

You pull away from him slightly to pick up the scroll, waving it in his face. "We can come up with something. You came down with a deadly fever and you never recovered. You were mobbed by some samurai and you never returned. They'll take Lord Ayato and Lady Ayaka's word for it, which is why I—"

"No."

Your yammering comes to an abrupt stop, and you stare at Thoma, who barely spares the scroll in your hand a glance.

"What do you mea—"

"I can't ask the Kamisato Clan to do that for me." He shakes his head. "Taking in an outlander...if they had been anyone else, they would have been punished severely. I'm risking their reputation by even being here."

"That's not true," you say in disbelief, grabbing his hands. "You've got a network of people that most native highborn Inazumans can only dream of having. You've helped so many people, so many outlanders...isn't that what the Kamisato clan does best?"

Thoma sighs. "But asking them to lie for me, to help me escape...what happens if I get caught? If the Shogun even gets a whiff of information that I'm still alive...who's going to pay the price?"

"They are the Yashiro Commission," you stress. "No one’s going to question them for fear of irking the people’s wrath. If you're not going to talk to them, I will. I am not losing you too."

You push past him, and he brings you back with a murmur of your name and a hand around your wrist. You don't trust yourself to look back at him; Archons know just what your pitiful heart might do.

He seems to hear your unspoken prayer, and in the true spirit of a defiant child of freedom, he denies it swiftly by spinning you around.

He holds your face in his hands gently, and suddenly, his entire presence is suffocating. But it's not in the way you feel when you're in a similar position with the Raiden Shogun. This one does not feel choking, dominating; this was enveloping, warm. This was a drop of water in a scorching desert, a single musical note echoing in a silent room.

You were so overwhelmed by your love for this man, that the mere thought of losing any part of him would crush you beyond belief. Thoma was your home, your eternity.

"It's going to be okay," he whispers, his breath fanning across your lips.

"It's not," you protest. "Thoma, you know what'll happen if you lose your Vision. You've seen what it does to people. And I can't—I don't—"

"But what'll happen to you?" Thoma asks. "It's no secret to anyone that the Raiden Shogun...well...if something were to happen to you…"

"I've planned for that, too," you say. "We can arrange for you to hide somewhere, and while she's consumed with the thought of finding you...I'll get to you first."

You press your lips to his palm shakily. "Then we can go to Mondstadt, see? You can show me where you grew up, where they serve Dandelion Wine, celebrate the Windboom Festival…"

Thoma smirks. "The Windblume Festival."

"Right," you laugh, feeling the tears well up again. "Then it will never rain again."

Thoma studies your face carefully, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and wrapping you in his arms. You bury your face into his chest.

"I love you," he says, and you feel the weight of the words through the rumbling of his chest. "So, so much. Archons, I do."

You peer up at him again, and it wraps your heart in a vice to see tears of his own adorning the edges of his lashes.

"But I can't."

Your mouth goes dry.

He shakes his head and looks up, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I knew what I was getting myself into, falling in love with the Raiden Shogun's Hand. I knew loving you would come back to bite us in the ass someday, and that day is today, it seems."

He looks down at you again, brushing strands of hair away from your face. "But I snuck past the guards and grabbed your hand anyway."

The tears—both his and yours—begin to fall in earnest as he leans down to kiss you. The two of you stand there for what seemed like an eternity, and for a minute, you understand what the Shogun feels, when he finally pulls away.

"You need to go back," he tells you.

"I'm not going to let her take you from me."

Thoma laughs, almost incredulously. "Funny you should say that, my love. I've been wishing that ever since I've met you. But this is how it's going to play out."

He steps back, but keeps sections of your skirt in his hands. "You're going to go back to the Shogun," he begins. "You're safer there. She's not going to let anyone hurt you, let alone touch you."

"But don't you understand?!" You yank yourself away from him, the frustration that had been bubbling up earlier making a reappearance. "She's not going to let you touch me either! I'm not going back there, I'm not going anywhere without you!"

"It's better than the life you'd have with me. Would you want that? Being constantly on the run? Never having a single place to call home, having the fugitive label on your back wherever we go? Having the Raiden Shogun's fury follow you everywhere?'

"She can burn this whole world to the ground. I don't care. As long as I'm with you."

Thoma continues, unperturbed by your response. "You're going to go back to her, and maybe in the future she's going to get pressured to marry you off to some highborn to maintain order. And you're going to have a family, riches beyond your imagination, and most importantly, safety. You don't know what it's like out there."

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe this. And what about you?"

"Me?" He seems momentarily surprised at the thought of you considering him. "Well...Vision or no Vision, I think I can still work as Chief Retainer. I've got mean sweeping skills, you know."

"I mean," you grit your teeth. "Are you okay with all of that? Me going back to the Shogun, getting married to some guy I probably don't even know, having children that aren't yours?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to it. "And what I want doesn't matter, either? Do you think I want to go back to her? I see it in your eyes, every night we're together. You hate it. You hate that she gets to touch me whenever she likes, hate that she's on my skin, hate that she wants what's always been yours."

"You know as well as I do what she can do when you pull away." He caresses your cheek, and pulls you into his arms once more. "Just as you are bound to the Raiden Shogun, I am bound to the Kamisato Clan. I can't risk dishonoring them by asking them to lie about me to the people they serve. That's going to pass down to their children, and their children's children. Multiple generations of treachery."

"So...that's it?" you whimper. "Thoma, you could forget everything. Everyone."

"Not true." He sways you gently. "I could never forget a face like yours. Ambition...anyone can want anything, and I'm always going to want you. And even if I lose my memory a million times, I'd still fall in love with you every single time."

It was unfair to you, the way he casually declared his love. You wanted nothing more than to scream it back, that you loved him as much as he loved you, maybe even more. You wanted to sear it into his skin, shake his system to its core, until all he knows is just how much you'd be willing to die for him.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about me," Thomas murmurs into your hair. "I'll be fine."

You look up at him then, breaking the embrace. You try to imagine the warmth in his eyes dissipating along with the influence of his Vision. You try to imagine a listless, hollow shell of a man walking around with no objective in life, much like the victims of the Vision Hunt Decree. Much like your mother.

You try to imagine a life without him, and it fuels you with a quiet, unbridled rage.

"I don't believe you," you whisper, and you turn on your heels, feeling your skirt slip away from his grasp as you leave him behind.

If not now, when?

You had whispered it to yourself, over and over again  in the mirror, on the morning of the 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony. It was one of your moments of quiet defiance, knowing that you were actively plotting what could be the biggest betrayal to the Raiden Shogun in centuries while she slept in your bed.

The wind whips the hood of your cloak around your face as you stand in front of the statue of the Thousand-Eyed God. You peer up at a sky covered in dark clouds, but you grow nervous when you don't sense a storm coming. There would be no cover for you; no way to disguise your movement as simple lightning strikes, like how you used to sneak out to see Thoma.

Thoma…

The guards had brought him to the area of the ceremony ten minutes ago. Bile had risen in your throat when you saw him tied up and forced to the ground, but to your relief, he was otherwise unharmed. You keep your eyes lowered, as you had been trained to do, your figure mimicking the statue that was just next to you.

The Raiden Shogun crosses your vision, and you bow as she moves towards the statue, gazing upon its face and the Visions that adorn its wings. Your heart begins hammering in your chest when she finally turns around, her arm outstretched and electricity crackled around her fingertips.

You know what part comes next, having seen it many times over, and you know that you had mere seconds to move. There would be a small window of time where confusion would keep everyone rooted in their places, and as long as you concentrated, you would be out of there as planned.

You finally look up, and the wind blows your hood back. Your eyes meet Thoma's, just as the Vision from his belt flies towards the Shogun.

You keep your eyes trained on his Vision and crouch, feeling your elemental magic crawl from your toes up to your head like it had many times before.

But you never get there.

A flash of blonde and a purple light similar to your own crosses your path, and Thoma's Vision is no longer in front of you.

Gasps and murmurs echo from the crowd when a mysterious figure falls to the ground in a combat stance, the Vision in their hand and a strange fairy flying over to their side.

They have no Vision. You couldn't sense any on their person, though they were infused with what was undoubtedly Electro energy. So this was the mysterious Traveler that everyone was talking about; the Honorary Knight of Mondstadt, an honored guest of the Liyue Qixing, who'd fought off an ancient god.

The Shogun looked confused herself, and you watch as the guards run from Thoma towards the Traveler. They strike the three down with bolts of concentrated Electro energy, before dashing over to Thoma to undo his binds.

Your spirits rise, but they are crushed just as quickly as the Shogun zaps their hands away.

"Capable of using elemental magic without a Vision…" she muses, coming down from the statue. "You are an exception, it seems."

There is no mistaking the rage that emanates from the Raiden Shogun—a rage, manifested in the electricity that surrounds her entire figure, that you know is enough to slay gods and tear the heavens asunder.

"Exceptions...the enemy of Eternity."

She stretches her arms, and everyone in the vicinity gets blown back from the sheer force of her power, including you. Through the small window between your arms, you see her retrieve the weapon that she keeps in her soul, triggering another wave of power that is too much for even you to handle.

"You will be inlaid upon this statue," she booms, and just like that, she and the Traveler were gone.

Once you had gotten your footing back, you waste no time, teleporting yourself to where Thoma was.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

"She's going to administer judgement," you say quickly, tugging at Thoma's restraints.

"Judgement?!" the Traveler's companion squeaked. "You mean...like Kazuha's friend…?"

"I don't know who Kazuha is," you answer. "But once you've challenged the Raiden Shogun, she will deliver judgement."

"Will they make it?"

"Hard to say." You click your tongue in annoyance when you sense that the ropes were imbued with some sort of magic; most likely to keep Thoma's Pyro Vision from burning it off easily. You grab one of the Shogunate's polearms and try to saw the ropes off.

You hear Thoma chuckle as you work. "You're mad," he says breathlessly.

"I've arranged for a temporary hiding spot near Nazuchi Beach," you tell him. "But first we'll go to Komore Teahouse to regroup."

"But, the Traveler…!"

"This is Paimon, by the way," Thoma adds, aiding you by moving his hands in the opposite direction of the blade.

"Paimon, it's going to be okay," you comfort the fairy. "I'll wait for them to come back, then we'll go."

"But how?!" Paimon wails.

“You grab the Traveler, I’ll focus on getting us out of here,” you instruct Thoma. “I’ve never transported more than two at a time, so you need to help me.”

"You idiot, she'll see you!" Thoma snaps. "You need to go now or—"

"If you tell me to go one more time, I will teleport and drop you into the Musoujin Gorge," you growl. "I am not leaving you. Never."

Before Thoma could respond, lightning strikes the ground in front of you, and all the hairs on your body stand up.

The air shimmers and seemingly dissolves, revealing the Raiden Shogun meters away, with the Traveler on the ground closer to you, unconscious. Paimon screams and flies over to them, her little hands grasping their clothes and her distraught voice begging them to wake up.

"Damn!" The rope was nowhere near half cut, and you pick up the pace, knowing your time was running out.

You feel a pair of eyes on you, and you trace them back to the Raiden Shogun.

For the first time, you don't know what expression is on her face. Hurt? Anger? Betrayal? Was there even emotion on her face? You didn't know. It terrified you that you didn't know.

Your eyes lock with hers as you continue to work on Thoma's binds, wondering if she was able to understand them the way he always did. They were telling her—despite everything you had been through with her—that there was some part of you, no matter how miniscule, was telling her one thing: I'm sorry.

She continues walking towards the Traveler, her entire body still flickering with energy.

"Shit," you curse, finally knowing what was happening to the Shogun, turning your attention back to the ropes.

"Come on, come on," Thoma grunts, moving his hands faster.

"Paimon, move!" you scream out to the fairy. To your horror, neither her nor the Shogun listen, confirming your fear that the latter had slipped back into a state where she could not tell between friend or foe—her most war-like state, the one you’d desperately tried to lock away all these years.

"Almost...almost…"

You hear Paimon's squeak of terror, and you look up to see the Shogun motion for her to move away using her weapon.

The rope snags on the blade, and falls to the ground. You don't think.

You grab Thoma's arm and disappear, teleporting mere inches away from the Traveler and Paimon. Just as the Shogun brings her weapon down, Thoma sweeps the Traveler into his arms, and you grab Paimon's leg, before escaping into the heavens in a flash of lightning.

The last thing Thoma hears is a clap of thunder before he crashes to the ground, coughing as the smell of burning fills his nostrils. The Traveler (who had somehow managed to gain consciousness) had tumbled out of his arms and onto the sand, which he realizes is the garden next to the Komore Teahouse.

Relief fills his system when he hears Ayaka's panicked shouts, along with Taroumaru's barking. He decides he isn't a big fan of your teleportation (though being able to disappear and reappear again somewhere in a bolt of lightning was rather cool, he supposes).

He leaves Paimon to fuss over the now-awake and slightly delirious Traveler, and turns to look for you. He finds you face down on the ground, your crumpled form lying meters away from where he had landed.

"Hey," he calls, running over to you. "Hey, we're here. You did it."

Thoma leans down to brush your hair away and press a kiss to your nape, but his heart drops.

A perfectly vertical cut runs down the back of your neck, oozing blood and occasional sparks of electricity. Your Vision is missing, along with the ribbon tied around your neck.

You aren't waking up.

taglist (those in italics, I can’t seem to tag you :<): @izayanna @onigiree​ @thetwinkims​ @cybersnotonline @decaffeinateddragonbananagoth @candyqueen10​ @littlefluffbunz-4208 @xuenn @crushmylimbs​ @axerrri​ @idkwhattonamethis1000​ @foelup​ @rasasvavda​ @themoonalienhere2000​ @catharia-catharsis​ @catboyjesus​ @that-jax​ @xcherriess14 @friend-ofcloud​ @berryunderscore @xiao-chao @flerpdederp​ @bugtim3​ @kelly339 @pinaplemess1

[selenecrown]

When Viatrix Falters, Viator Comes to Aid. Such is the way of the Twins of Via.

Author’s Note: So. I was watching Genshin Impact’s Archon Quests and. was looking through fanart of such events and. I have THOUGHTS. that I tried to put into this fic.

Is this completely self-indulgent? Oh you can bet anything it is. I am a sucker for Aether and Lumine’s relationship in Genshin. The ANGST-TO-FLUFF POTENTIAL HERE YA’LL. I WANT MORE OF IT AND LIKE. SOON.

So, here’s this no comfort Angst fic that came out of my feels I guess. I’m going to be doing Lumine as the Traveler, since I have a better grasp of her personality then Aether’s currently. Maybe when I finally understand Aether’s personality, I’ll write this fic but for Aether. We’ll see.

Warnings: This Fic Contains Spoilers for Genshin Impact’s Archon Quests Up Until Archon Quest Interlude Chapter Perilous Trial! So, if you’re playing Genshin or ever plan on it, I would not suggest it since I think it’s the closest thing we get to the main plot (I think from all the people tagging it as spoilers. But honestly Genshin confuses me and what’s the plot and what’s side content due to how linked they are with each other [which I both love and hate at the same time]. Either that or I’m actually stupid.) But if you don’t care for spoilers and want that sibling angst shit, never plan on playing the game, or already know the spoilers, well. Ignore me. 

Also you could interpret Abyss!Aether as Yandere for his sister here, I guess? I was re-reading this and I guess the fic could be seen that way. I meant to write Abyss!Aether as a man whose seen some shit and honestly cares for nobody else but his sister anymore because he's so broken from the things he's seen-since that’s the general impression I got from Abyss!Aether when I was watching through the twins interacting. But since this could be seen as Yandere, for those who aren’t into that or just don't want Aether being that way for Lumine even if it's just an interpretation you could get from this-I would not recommend this fic for you.

Lumine laid awake in the tent she was in, Paimon had long fell asleep after the meal she’d had. Paimon never really stayed awake that long after meals; while Lumine, on the other hand, could not sleep.

She hadn’t been able to sleep for the past few days, actually.

After all, how do you sleep when you find the person you’re looking for told you they’re not going with you?

Sure, the people she knew upon hearing this offered sympathy and comfort to her. But, the sympathy wasn’t genuine. It wasn’t hard to see they were also keeping there distance from her. 

How could they not? Aether was a part of the Abyss Order for goodness’ sake. 

Who would see her positively now that they knew her brother was behind such horrible acts that put nations in danger? 

Aether was trying to destroy the world and for what? Nobody really seemed to know, but that didn’t stop them from looking at Lumine with eyes of suspicion, eyes of caution, eyes of anger, eyes of pity-Like she was a part of the Abyss Order or an example of how cruel the world was. 

And frankly, Lumine was getting tired of trying to prove she didn’t need it. Their sympathy, their pity, their anger-it was tiring to dispel those looks.

Day in and day out-Do you know how tiring it is to try and prove yourself over and over again to people when they won’t even look at you without those looks?

And on top of everything there is people who knew about Aether, but they said nothing about it to her. Nothing.  

Why?

Why didn’t anyone say anything? Not even a hint to help her out? 

Didn’t she deserve the truth?

Why does she have to be kept in the dark about everything?

Was it because she’s not strong enough?

Was it because they looked down on her?

Lumine didn’t know, and honestly, she didn’t care at the moment. 

The Honorary Knight of Mondstadt, Honored Guest of the Liyue Qixing of Liyue and of the Tri-Commission of Inazuma and Former Captain of the Watusumi Army-The titles means nothing if she didn’t even want them in the first place. The search for her brother got her these titles and now they felt empty.

These thoughts aren’t good. Lumine thought to herself, looking out the window of the tent. Hopefully taking a walk will clear my head and help me sleep tonight. 

So, she set out for a quick walk, hoping it would clear her mind. 

Though, Lumine was not expecting the walk to get her so lost. 

It rained really hard, forcing Lumine into an area she’d never been in before to seek shelter. And with the rain still going on outside, there was no way she could go back to camp now. So, all she could do was venture deeper inside, in hopes to find a safe spot to settle down the dry her clothes, even for a little while until the rain passed. 

But, unfortunately, fate was not as kind as Lumine had hoped as she ventured and eventually got lost in the cave and it’s tunnels to where Lumine wasn’t even sure how to get out of this forsaken cave.

The tunnels winded and stretched almost impossible lengths, and every time Lumine turned a corner, there was only more and more cave. This shouldn’t even be possible and if it was, why wasn’t this marked? 

When would this end---?

Suddenly, the world was pulled out from under her, and Lumine fell to the ground and in the process got a scrap on her legs.

And, after Lumine looked at her legs, trying to get up and failing to do so, Lumine started to sob into the ground, stopping what she was doing. 

“It hurts. It hurts.” Lumine cried into the empty cave, as she struggled to get up. Not of the injury, but rather of her own mind giving up. “I don’t want this. I want to go back home. I want to leave. Anywhere not here! Aether. Aether. Where are you? I want to go home. Aether! Where are you Aether? Please, I just want go home! Please. Please-” 

Lumine cried into the empty cave as she struggled to deal with her emtions, but it seems her cries where not unheard, as nearby Hilicurls seemed attracted by the Traveler’s cries. 

The creatures stared at the mighty Traveler crying to herself, unsure of what to do. They didn’t seem to be waiting for anything-The Hilicurls seemed to be staring at the girl in pity, as if deep down they understood the feeling Lumine felt. So, Lumine cried her feelings away until she eventually tired herself out and fell asleep in the cave out of exhaustion. The Hilicurls then picked up the unconcious girl and moved her to one of their camps nearby and placed her in a pile of straw nearby a fire-Giving Lumine somewhere safe and comfortable to rest, at least. 

Not long after Lumine was brought into a Hilicurl camp-An Abyss Mage came into the camp seeming to want to speak with the Hilicurls-But upon seeing the Traveller in a pile of straw, the mage approached her sleeping body.

The Abyss Mage head twitched in confusion as it looked at its’ Prince’s sibling-resting. Not well, from the look on her face. 

The creature poked the kin of the Prince-only for the girl to curl into herself and weep in pain and the Hilicurls nearby seeming to react, trying to soo away the mage. The Abyss Mage then spoke with the Hilicurls which seemed to calm down the creatures-and disappeared off somewhere.

Lumine, where did you go? Aether thought to himself with his counsel, as he’d gotten a report from one of his Heralds that was keeping an eye on Lumine, only for her to go missing in a pretty bad rainstorm. “Where was the last place you saw her before the rainstorm hit?”

“Around the mountainside your Highness,” The Herald said. “While she did have her. . . weapon of choice with her,” The Herald said, as if displeased with Lumine’s weapon choice. “She was not holding it, so I can assume she was not looking to fight, like she has the past few days. She seemed merely to be trying to tire herself out.”

“How did she look?” Aether asked.

“She grows weaker by the day.” The Herald said. “She looked about to fall dead.”

“Do you think that. . . thing. . .she travels with is finally draining her?” A Electro Lector asked, growling at the mention of the ‘thing’. “I thought it would wait longer.”

“Quite low of that thing to do it now.” Another Lector added. “Well, at least the Prince’s kin is away from the disgusting creature now, hopefully it stays that way.”

“Your Highness, I suggest we look for her.” A Pryo Lector suggested. “While she is capable of handling herself, she is not in condition-” 

“Your Highness.” An Mage appeared in the room, bowing before the Prince, and only the Prince it seemed.

“What is it?” The Herald growled at the mage, pretty upset he’d been interrupted by a lowly mage. 

“Let them speak.” Aether said, and the Herald bowed curtly, “What is it? Do you have an update about something?”

“No, your Highness, your kin-they are in the nearby hilicurl camp.”

Aether’s eyes widened, before he seemed to calm himself. Aether’s counsel, on the other hand, did not seem as calm as Aether was. “Where?”

“Forgive me Prince, I’m not sure how-”

“We’ll deal with that later.” Aether sighed. “How close is she and how does she look?”

“She’s in the tunnel system, my Prince. Your kin seemed to have gotten lost in it, and is quite hurt. The Hilicurls have taken a liking to her.”

Aether sighed, as he got up. “Fine, show me where she is.”

“As you wish, my Prince.” The Lectors, the Herald and the Mage said, almost in prefect unison.

When Aether had gotten to Lumine, it seemed the hilicurls in the camp went somewhere else, leaving Aether with the mage, and the loyal Herald at Prince's side. 

“Thank you, you may leave now.” Aether said to the mage, and the mage quickly took its’ leave. 

Aether kneeled down in front of his sister-Just from the energy he felt from her Lumine was very weak, indeed, as his Herald has said, she was in no position to be travelling around. And yet, here she was, laying on the bed of straw. She always was the foolish one.

“Your Highness, she’s bleeding.” The Herald pointed out, pointing to Lumine’s legs, which had a puddle of blood around her legs.

“Indeed. Bandage them.” Aether commanded, and the Herald bowed before disappearing somewhere.  

“Ah. You’ve pushed yourself again Lumine.” Aether chuckled, half-heartedly towards his sister, even reaching out a hand to inspect her. “You always said to not push myself, and here to you are. You’ve always been a hypocrite, you know that?”

Lumine didn’t respond, and Aether looked at his sister in silence-She was so fragile now. 

Aether was so used to seeing his sister from the shadows running around with the people she’d met with such energy and a smile on her face that it made Aether energic just from watching-he remembered when she’d always try to smile for him back then when they were trying to leave Teyvat all those years ago, even when it was hard. Aether knew what he asked of her back when they last saw each other was harsh-especially since she was so lost in a world she didn’t understand and was often wondering around like a baby chicken with the people around often being of no help despite his direct intervention, but the Prince never realized his sister was so fragile to this degree. He thought she was made of marble-and here he saw her cracking at the seams. 

Though, he couldn’t blame his sister for her cracking under pressure. Those people around her are so demanding of her-without so much thanks to give her back but empty words. Fate was cruel to her, as fate was to him. He remembered his own journey- it was long and there were often days he didn’t want to get up or do anything. And yet, he got through it, despite how hard it was and here he stands, right in front of his sister. 

Maybe. . . Maybe it would be fine if she just. Got away for them for a while. Aether thought. They’ve taken so much from her, that she has nothing left now. She needs a recharge. . . just for a few days. They won’t care if it’s just a few days and she won’t remember if I just. Use some magic. Yeah. Yeah, that should work. 

Aether picked up his sister-She was so light. She hadn’t eaten, either? She was worse than he thought.

“Your Highness?” The Herald asked, and he’d come back with bandages.

“She cannot sleep out here. It is not safe. I am taking to her one of the safe havens, we shall treat her there.” Aether said.

“As you wish.” The Herald said, as Aether opened a portal to the unknown.

Lumine slowly opened her eyes to a dark room. It wasn’t dark as the cave she was in, as there seemed to be light in the form of. . . Stars?

Lumine slowly got up. Yes, it looked like the light source of the room was stars in a galaxy like room. The bed she was in seemed-familiar. Like she’d slept in it before, actually, so did the rest of-

“Lumine.” A voice Lumine thought she won’t hear again said, and Lumine turned, and there stood her brother Aether with a warm smile on his face. 

“Aether?” Lumine asked, and Aether simply sat on Lumine’s bed before taking Lumine’s body and hugging her. The hug was tight, like if Aether let go, he would lose his only family.

“I’m glad you woke up. I was getting worried. Come on, Ms.-I-Must-Rest-All-Night-or-Else, I made breakfast for us.” Aether smiled as he pulled away, trying to laugh off the situation, it seemed.

Breakfast? Lumine thought, and then her head stung pretty badly. 

Ah. That’s right. Breakfast. 

We’re. . .

home. . .

now. . . ?

“Lumine! Are you okay? Does you head hurt again?” Aether asked, craddling Lumine’s head is his hands.

“Y-Yeah.” Lumine stuttered out, which seemed to make Aether more concerned, leading him to let go and pull Lumine unto his back. 

“It’s alright. I’ll walk us to the kitchen. Don’t move, or you’ll pass out again.” Aether smiled, as he lifted the two of them up and began to walk.

"Pass. . . Out?" Lumine asked, as Aether guided the two of them through a hallway of galaxies with lanterns lighting the way.

"You're pushing yourself again." Aether simply said, laughing as if it was something common Lumine did. "You've been working too hard these past few days because I was sick. But I'm fine now."

Sick. . . ?

Sick.

That's right. . . Aether was sick. But he's fine now.

"There we go." Aether smiled as he placed his sister down on a sofa, and brought her a bowl of soup. Aether then sat down next to his sister-with a another bowl of soup in his hands, and he started to eat it. After Lumine stared for a little while, she began to eat. It was. . . Warm. And tasted. . . Familiar. Like something she hadn’t had in a long time.

"Is it good?" Aether asked curiously, which earned a nod from Lumine. "Thank goodness. I was worried I didn't follow the recipe right."

"Aether?"

"Yes?" Aether stopped eating his food, making him look like a chipmunk trying to stuff nuts in it’s mouth.

"Where. . . Where are we. . .?" Lumine asked, pretty seriously.

"Home. We're home Lumine. Did you forget?" Aether said, lightheartedly.

Lumine paused after studying her brother, he wasn’t acting off. . . But. Why did she still feel uneasy? "Y-Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine. Rest, sister. Everything's going to be fine now!" Aether smiled, as he finished eating his food and cleaned up after himself. 

Lumine. . . Wasn't so sure Aether was telling the truth.

Aether went to move wash the dishes, and Lumine watched him. He was. . . Different. Despite the smile he just gave. . . He moved slower, more deliberately than she remembered.

“Lumine, you’re staring again.” Aether smiled, snapping Lumine out of her thoughts. “What, you want a hug or something?” 

Lumine shook her head. “Sorry. I’m . . . Not hungry. My head still hurts.” 

“Really?” Aether sighed, stopping what he was doing and walking up to Lumine. “If it hurts this much, I suppose I’ll have to try some magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah, I learned some while you were asleep. Come here.” Aether smiled warmly, and kissed his sister’s forehead gently. and instantly, the confusion that clouded Lumine’s mind went away, as if Aether had pushed a fog away and it suddenly hit Lumine where she was. 

She was. . . Home. With Aether. 

Away from an awful place. . . And that’s all that mattered, really. 

“Pffft.” Lumine asked, laughing to herself. “What was that?”

“A kiss. Duh.” Aether said, playfully.

“Then that was not magic. You just wanted some kisses.” Lumine poked her brother’s cheek.

“Well, you’ve been sick, do you blame me?” Aether poked her opposite cheek back.

“I thought you’d be worse.” Lumine smugly smirked.

“Hey!” Aether said, seeming rather embarrassed.

“I’m joking, I’m joking Aether.” Lumine laughed, taking away her hand off Aether’s face.

“Hmmmph.” Aether pouted, pulling his hand away. “I was worried about you, you idiot.”

“Well of course. I have to take care of you.” Lumine smirked.

Aether sighed at that comment, before smirking himself. “Since you’re fine now, we can finally start exploring again.” 

“Noooooooooo.” Lumine sighed. “Not today. It’s already late.” 

“Fine, fine. Tommorow.” Aether said. “We need to start exploring tommorow.”

“Yeah! Let’s just hang out!” Lumine said. “Come on! We haven’t had a break in a while!”

“Fine, fine, who knew you’re so demanding.”

For the days went by fast-Aether would admit that. 

Certainly different then what he normally does back in Teyvat, as for the most part all he really had to do was entertain his sister for a few hours by exploring the area in the Chasm he’d craved out for this reason, she’d be happy for a while, they’d rest and they’d start exploring again. 

Aether admitted. . . This was. . . Nice. 

He was so used to being so far away from her that being close to his own sister made him feel strange despite the fact they used to be so close all of them time. 

Back when Lumine with. . . what even was that thing. . . a floating child. . . ? . . . Aether couldn’t come very close to her without alerting her. So he’d often stand back from a distance, like during the Lantern Rite he’d watched Lumine release her lanterns and took it for himself for a while before letting it go in. He’d seen Lumine’s wish during the Inazuman Summer Festival-It broke his heart to see her still wish for him.

Sometimes his Herald would come to update him on what’s going outside-It seemed Lumine’s aquientances where starting to get too antsy about Lumine’s disappearance. They weren’t even close to figuring out who was behind it-rather the search was going to everywhere, and getting dangerously close to the Chasm. 

Aether knew this day would come and yet. . . Why does his heart feel so heavy?

Aether knew he was delaying the ineventable-He would have to let Lumine go. 

But. . . He didn’t want to. 

Lumine. . . Was right here. With him. Like they’d promised. 

Sure, Lumine’s companions where looking for her. . . but they could look everywhere and Aether would never give her up. Lumine isn’t theirs. Lumine is his sister. They don’t understand how long he’s waited. . . How long 

Oh no. Aether looked in horror as he realized what was happening to him. This. . . This isn’t healthy. . . 

But. . . No! 

I need to let her go! Now! 

Or. . . 

Or. . . !

Aether watched as his sister search the area, she currently was searching from glowing stone to stone-And he’d never felt so. . .Scared.

“Lumine. . .” Aether said carefully, walking towards his sister, only for her to turn around. 

“Yeah, Aether?” Lumine smiled with arms full of stones and flowers she’d collected-That she meant to bring home. 

“Let’s go home. I’m not feeling so well.”

Lumine nodded, “Oh, alright.”

After a few more days, Aether had decided it was finally time let his sister go so he won’t hog her forever, placing her resting body in an abandoned village not far from the Chasm. But upon placing his sister in the bed and placing a blanket, Aether’s heart ached once more.

“I love you, Lumine. I’ll always be here for you.” Aether smiled, as he started to cry, leaving tears on his sister's face. “I’m sorry.” 

And Aether disappeared into the night of Teyvat. 

[catcze]

Akajakanalam you’re so sweet! And sorry I should have phrased it a bit better, when I meant speadrun I meant more of people that don’t enjoy the game fully and then demand more of the game on such a big update and content, doing the quests early on is totally fine! I also think we don’t have other ways because by exploring, you will trigger the quests so no worries I totally get it, also thanks for the tag warning! I added it thank you <3

SPOILER FOR ARCHON QUEST PART TWO

Also fun fact, I was leaving the archon quest part two for later but while doing a world quest I accidently triggered it and found myself fighting Baal ToT like I just needed to talk to an npc and found myself fighting a God

GENSHIN SPOILERSS

no need to apologize babe <33 Thanks for clarifying tho!!

Totally agree with you–– honestly, I don't mind sending them, like, legitimate well-thought out criticism, but sometimes I get so,,, annoyed when people just tear through the game and the content in just a day or something and then call out the game for not giving them enough? aaA I'll not go too deep into that bc that's a little more controversial akjsdas but yes yes I totally agree with you haha

kjsda ALSO really?? HAHA that doesn't sound like a fun time akjsndsa Honestly, I was expecting the fight because,,, I dunno it kinda seemed inevitable? So I at least managed to go into it prepared (and yet literally Zhongli and Ningguang were carrying my team HAHA) but I can't imagine how it must have been when you were just trying to converse with someone then suddenly a whole-ass god is challenging you to a fight like it's a pokemon battle 😭 I hope you did alright, love!!

[crimecaro14]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi Characters: Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi, Iruma Miu, K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Raiden Shogun | Baal (Genshin Impact), Harukawa Maki, Momota Kaito, Akamatsu Kaede Additional Tags: Vision Hunt Decree (Genshin Impact), Memory Loss, spoilers for 2.0 Archon Quest I guess, Play Ayakas 3 wishes for a bit of context, long story short losing your vision is bad, Inazuma (Genshin Impact), Angst, Established Relationship, but memory loss, Reunion, musou no hitotatchi, this happens way before the Traveller goes to Inazuma, Aged-Up Character(s), like mid-late 20s, Hurt No Comfort, no beta we die like hillichuls Series: Part 2 of DRV3 Genshin AU Summary:

"You really don't remember our multiple trips through the mountains of these islands, solving puzzles, fighting back to back... the countless nights we gazed upon the stars, chatted until the sun was rising again and... got closer to each other...?"

Two months ago the Raiden Shogun announced the Vision Hunt Decree, causing confusion and fear among her people. No one knew what losing your Vision meant, but they were sure to find out.

Hearing about those circumstances Shuichi abandoned his study journey to return to his partner back in Inazuma, hoping he was fine.

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

To lose ones Vision

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3nA1eod

by CrimeCaro

"You really don't remember our multiple trips through the mountains of these islands, solving puzzles, fighting back to back... the countless nights we gazed upon the stars, chatted until the sun was rising again and... got closer to each other...?"

Two months ago the Raiden Shogun announced the Vision Hunt Decree, causing confusion and fear among her people. No one knew what losing your Vision meant, but they were sure to find out.

Hearing about those circumstances Shuichi abandoned his study journey to return to his partner back in Inazuma, hoping he was fine.

Words: 2812, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of DRV3 Genshin AU

Fandoms: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: M/M

Characters: Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi, Iruma Miu, K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Raiden Shogun | Baal (Genshin Impact), Harukawa Maki, Momota Kaito, Akamatsu Kaede

Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi

Additional Tags: Vision Hunt Decree (Genshin Impact), Memory Loss, spoilers for 2.0 Archon Quest I guess, Play Ayakas 3 wishes for a bit of context, long story short losing your vision is bad, Inazuma (Genshin Impact), Angst, Established Relationship, but memory loss, Reunion, musou no hitotatchi, this happens way before the Traveller goes to Inazuma, Aged-Up Character(s), like mid-late 20s, Hurt No Comfort, no beta we die like hillichuls

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3nA1eod

[dango-milk]

forever and always (zhongli’s version)

One second it was perfect, now you’re halfway out the door.

an ode to heartbreak masterlist: (x)

word count: 6321

genre: fluff to angst

pairings: zhongli x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for zhongli’s backstory, the liyue archon quest, and liyue’s history in general

want to be tagged when future oth works come out? click here!

additional notes: this fic was so hard to write omg. tense consistency? I don’t know her

You believe it was a Tuesday when you caught Zhongli’s eye.

You were starting to think that Childe had permanently moved to Liyue after he’d invited you out for lunch on that fateful day, promising to make up for what had happened at the diplomatic ball all those months ago. Begrudgingly, you’d agreed, solely for the fact that you were starting to enjoy finding ways to rile the Harbinger up.

“Ah, I’ve invited a friend over, if you don’t mind,” you heard him say behind the partition of the Liuli Pavilion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised that Childe had other friends besides you (if you could even call yourself his friend at all).

“Master Childe, your guest is here,” the waiter announced, and you nod in thanks as you make your way over to the reserved table. You raised your eyes, first to meet Childe’s in greeting, and second to look at his other visitor.

(Dear Celestia, he’s beautiful.)

You’d fought the urge to gape at the tall stranger enjoying a cup of tea adjacent to where you were standing. His eyes had peered over the rim to give you a quick once-over, which normally you would have found rude, but there wasn’t a hint of disrespect emanating from him—just pure curiosity.

Actually, you weren’t sure if he had the capacity to be anything negative, despite having just laid eyes on him for the very first time.

“Allow me to introduce (Y/N),” Childe said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “A very dear comrade of mine.”

“We only just met a few months ago,” you corrected him rather curtly, taking a seat and trying not to overwhelm yourself with the eyes you could feel practically boring into your soul.

“Yes, but all circumstances considered, I feel like I’ve known you forever by now.” Childe waggled his eyebrows in the most unattractive way possible, pulling a snort from you. “(Y/N), this is Mr. Zhongli, a consultant for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the man named Zhongli finally spoke, and you nearly wanted to keel over from the deep timbre of his voice. His voice sounded like entire mountains moving, and all you’d managed was a small smile and a polite nod.

“(Y/N) here’s from the Adventurer’s Guild,” Childe continued. “All the way from Mondstadt.”

“Interesting.” Zhongli set his cup down. “What do you specialize in?”

“Specialize—” you squeaked, before clearing your throat and shaking your head in embarrassment. “Well, I take on commissions like any other Adventurer, really. But I’m a...a scholar of sorts, so it’s my job to learn as much as I can about a region to add to the Guild’s intel. Help Adventurers know the lay of the land and the culture that surrounds it.”

“Impressive,” Zhongli mused, and you could tell that he meant it, by the way his eyes softened marginally. “And what made you move to Liyue?”

Childe snickered as he dug into his food. “Funny you should ask, because—”

You crushed his foot under yours. “Well, I’ve already learned much about Mondstadt, so I’ve decided to move on to different nations to expand my research. And the, er, pay is marginally better here, so it was a rather easy decision to make.”

You didn't explain any further, having already learned the dire consequences of running your mouth willy-nilly from no less than the person struggling with chopsticks sitting next to you. 

The memories of your last visit to Mondstadt didn’t help either, with their endless picking at your heart and at your conscience.

Thankfully, Zhongli had only nodded, murmuring “That sounds practical” before turning his attention back to his food. You’d taken it as a sign to start preparing your own dish, picking steamed buns and vegetables from the revolving center of the table.

As much as you had wanted to hear from Zhongli a little more, you couldn’t find the words to speak. Thankfully, Childe was happy to fill the void with anecdotes from his travels, as well as some other remarks that kept the lunch from being uncomfortably silent. It was jarring to see someone as rambunctious as him converse so easily with someone as serene as Zhongli, who acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

An image came to you then, of an orange-haired dog sprinting around in circles, its tail occasionally smacking into a black cat trying to sleep. A giggle slipped past your lips before you could stop it, and your cheeks burned when Zhongli and Childe turned to look at you.

But all good things come to an end, and it came in the form of a Fatui member coming over to whisper in Childe’s ear. The Harbinger’s face fell briefly, before sighing and waving his subordinate away. "There goes the rest of my afternoon plans," he complained, setting his chopsticks down and standing up.

"You're leaving?" Zhongli asked.

"Some new members thought it would be funny to mess around with some lawachurls, and now they've lost most of their supplies for the month." Childe pinched the gap between his eyebrows in annoyance. "I'd reckon some bone-breaking is in order—if they aren't already broken, that is."

You shook your head, knowing all too well what lawachurls were capable of, and wondered how they would compare against one of Childe's harsh reprimands. 

"The bill's covered, so please stay as long as you like." He bowed slightly to Zhongli, before turning to you with a grin. "I'll be seeing you around, lovely."

His gloved hand reached out to swipe lightly against your cheek, and you smacked it away, hearing nothing but an amused chuckle as he left.

As soon as Childe had left, it took you a while to realize the situation you were in.

Your breath stuttered.

Zhongli sighed. "I'm not opposed to punishment in response to reckless behavior, but Childe does have some interesting ideas in that department." He looked at you, and his eyes seemed to be smiling. "How long have the two of you been together?"

You choked on your drink, spitting it out rather unattractively before coughing the rest of the liquid out of your lungs. You accepted the napkin that Zhongli passed to you, cheeks warming uncomfortably as you patted your mouth dry.

"We aren't together," you finally said. "Not in that way. I just owe him something."

"In that case, you have my deepest sympathies," Zhongli replied, raising his glass to you with a humorous look on his face.

You elected to say no more beyond that, believing your character to be as good as ruined in the eyes of such a dignified gentleman, and instead focusing on the slice of pie you'd taken for dessert.

For better or for worse, it seemed Zhongli wasn't keen on letting you off so easily. "So, a scholar at the Adventurer's Guild," he started again. "It seems like a very interesting job indeed. Were your parents Adventurers, too?"

"My mother was, yes," you replied, and your throat tightened a little at the mention of her. "My father was a hunter at Springvale."

Zhongli hummed. "I'm sure your mother is proud of you for having progressed so far in your career."

"I doubt it."

Zhongli only looked up at you in confusion.

"My mother left me to go on an adventure and never came back." The words had come out as a spit, as if the words mixed horribly with the crumbs in your mouth and your natural reflexes had kicked in.

"My apologies," Zhongli said. "I was not aware."

"It's alright," you'd replied, wanting nothing more than to change the subject.

"Forgive me, but...your father?"

"He passed away a few years ago."

"I…" Whatever Zhongli had to say, it quickly died in his throat. "I am deeply sorry for your loss, (Y/N)."

You smiled at him, partially to assure him that he'd done no harm and partially to lift the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the two of you. You didn't want your first encounter with this man to be over your deceased father and absentee mother.

"You're right, though," you told him. "I have progressed quite a lot. And there's nothing I love more than learning about new things. The true spirit of adventure lies in the knowledge that you gain, the enemies you defeat, and the friendships formed along the way."

Zhongli nodded solemnly, a faint smile on his lips. "I couldn't agree more."

"There's so much more to see, so many sights and sounds to experience. And Liyue…" You sighed dreamily. "I stuck around for a couple of months for some commissions prior to my moving here, but I feel like I've yet to scratch the surface. The land is just teeming with stories and rich in history; some of the libraries here hold scrolls dating from even before the Archon War!"

Zhongli set his cup down yet again, lacing his hands together and propping his chin up against them. For the briefest of moments, you'd noticed his deviance from basic table manners, but all you were thinking about was what you've learned so far from the Nation of Contracts.

You were practically vomiting words at this point. "I even got myself into a little tiffy with some scholars at one of the tea houses...they were waxing poetic about how the first Mora ever created by Rex Lapis was something extra special, and it should be stored away in a museum.”

“And what did you say to that?”

“I said it wasn’t anything special. Just your average Mora, much like the ones we use every day.” You spun one of the coins Childe had left on the table. “I believe Rex Lapis would rather every single Mora be used in the way it was intended to be used.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Zhongli took another sip of his tea. “I have been making the same argument for quite some time now.”

“Oh, you must not be popular at tea houses now, either.”

Zhongli laughed with you, and it was a warm, fluttery feeling that spread throughout your entire chest.

Soon, you'd made your way out of Liuli Pavillion, having eaten your fill and having exhausted all of your stories with Zhongli.

"I can help with your research, if you'd allow me," he suddenly said, before you parted ways. "I do not wish to flatter myself, but I do know a thing or two about Liyue."

"You certainly do, judging from our conversations earlier," you agreed. "That would be very helpful, thank you. But how is it that you know so much, Mr. Zhongli? Did your father teach you?"

"Just Zhongli is fine." His eyes seemed to glow like molten gold. "And yes, my dear. My father taught me."

And so began a new chapter in your life in Liyue, one that had you spending your days with the educated—if not a little eccentric—consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. He made good on his promise, freely offering you his aid and declining any attempts of yours to pay for it. You were getting worried that you were practically taking advantage of him, as you found that you needed his help quite a lot, but he would always simply wave off any of your protests with a fond smile on his face, assuring you that your understanding of the city was enough compensation.

The only consolation that you got from never being able to repay him in kind was the fact that he seemed more than happy to talk about anything with you. You were an eager student, and it helped that Zhongli was a wonderful teacher, never once dismissing any of your thoughts as foolish or far-fetched. He spoke with a refinement that most men could only dream of having, his patience seemingly stretched all the way to the heavens, and his wisdom seemed beyond what was expected of anyone his age (which, you never really got to ask about).

His line of work was more than enough material to work with, as he constantly dabbled in different ceremonies for the dead, one of the key practices in Liyue’s culture. Initially, he’d been a little reluctant to let you in on some of the more morbid aspects of the job. He later relented, after you assured him that you were able to handle them, though he still kept you out of the room during the more “hands-on” moments.

When you weren’t out on commissions, you could always be found in one of Liyue’s many libraries, your nose buried in a book or a scroll you’d dug out of the deepest recesses of the bookshelves. Zhongli sometimes joined you, offering explanations on articles you didn’t understand and deciphering characters you found difficult. On days that work called his focus away, he would write some recommendations and leave it at the Guild for you to find. Other times, he would catch up with you over dinner, speaking about Liyue and debating historical facts until the night melted into the morning.

Though Mondstadt was forever in your heart, despite the memories attached to it, it was incredibly easy to fall in love with Liyue. You loved watching the sun rise above the harbor, painting the city with vibrant shades of red and gold. You’d remarked that perhaps this was the reason why Rex Lapis had moved his people here, of all places.

(“Aside from it being an ideal place for trade, yes,” he’d replied, sounding oddly wistful. “That might be one of the reasons.”)

You enjoyed milling through the market, hearing the merchants inviting people to look over their wares and the exchanging of gossip (which you admittedly indulged in on your many grocery trips). But the marketplace, apparently, was not the best place for Zhongli; your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when he told you that he’d given over a month’s worth of his salary to a gentleman who promised him a tenfold return in six months.

(“He was rather persuasive, you know,” he later told you.)

Days stretched into months, and it seemed like you knew Liyue as well as you knew the back of your hand. Your expertise eventually got you a promotion at the Guild: a top spot in the Intelligence Department, which allowed you access to more of the Guild’s files detailing experiences from other Adventurers. You were over the moon when you told Zhongli the good news, and though he didn’t squeal and jump up and down as you did, his smile was worth a million Mora. Childe was also in town then, and the three of you celebrated over a lavish dinner and some drinks on the side.

Even with Childe constantly getting on your nerves, Zhongli acted like a balm of sorts to ease the tension in the air. You found your bond with the Harbinger slowly turning into a real friendship, taking his constant challenges and snide remarks as harmless jokes that you easily passed back to him. Zhongli was only too happy to be a spectator, occasionally laughing whenever you and Childe exchanged playful jabs.

He looks so much better when he laughs, you thought.

As if he’d heard your thoughts, Zhongli tilted his head in your direction. You dropped your gaze as soon as it met his, and forced a laugh at one of Childe’s stories.

(You pray he doesn’t hear the hammering of your heart in your chest, either, as he walks your drunk asses home.)

“Xiangling!”

“Ah, (Y/N)!” The Wanmin Restaurant’s youngest and most talented chef returned your call just as she served a steaming bowl of black-back perch stew to a delighted customer. “Come in, come in.”

“Please excuse the intrusion,” you announced, waving at Chef Mao with a smile before taking a seat at your usual table. Chongyun and Xingqiu, two of Xiangling’s closest friends, sent you a friendly wave before going back to whatever novel Xingqiu had with him.

“Here you are,” Xiangling said, setting your order down in front of you. “Careful, it’s still hot!”

“Anything else I should be careful about?” you teased, alluding to the time she had served you an experimental dish that had your stomach in knots all afternoon.

Xiangling’s cheeks turned pink. “That was the first time I used a combination of Dendro and Pyro slimes. I thought it would give a little more of a kick.”

“I’m kidding, Xiangling. It looks great.”

Xiangling finally beamed, and seeing as there were no customers to serve at the present time, she allowed herself to sit in front of you as you ate. “So, what have you got for me this time?”

As soon as you’d swallowed your first bite, you dug around in your bag and brought out your notebook, the one reserved for recipes you’ve discovered around Liyue. Most of them were from the library, others from restaurants seeking to preserve their cuisine, and a small percentage were from locals who were willing to sit down and chat about some of their favorite recipes. You weren’t a bad cook, but you needed the input of a local chef, which Xiangling was only happy to fulfill.

It had surprised Zhongli when you’d told him of your intention to document Liyue’s cuisine, with the idea that food was just as important as buildings, attitudes, and language when it came to culture. Liyue, the center of trade and divided into two warring cuisines, was practically a holy grail for culinary enthusiasts. He of course agreed wholeheartedly, and handed over his own specialty, a slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup.

“Hmm.” Xiangling scanned your notes. “I’ve heard about some of these, but the techniques are pretty dated. You could probably make do with some modern supplies, like using cuihua wood instead of rosewood...aw, but it isn’t going to have that sweet tangy note to the soup...well, unless you add an extra teaspoon of sugar…”

“Hey, (Y/N),” Chongyun came over and sat at your table, all smiles as he bit off a part of his popsicle. “Lost Xiangling already?”

“Yeah,” you sigh in amusement, watching Xiangling mutter to herself, fully engrossed in your notes. “Liyue’s cuisine is a lot more complicated than I thought. Where’s Xingqiu?”

“He was called back home. Something about the cor lapis supply...I have no idea how he’s involved in that.”

“Cor lapis!” Xiangling snapped her fingers. “Have you considered stone boiling, but with cor lapis instead of your normal everyday rock?”

Chongyun sighed.

“Ah, well, if it works…” You weren’t too enthusiastic about going all the way to Mt. Aocang to harvest some cor lapis on a whim, but who were you to know? “In any case, I feel I need a little more hands-on help. How about a barbecue on Saturday night? I’ll bring all the supplies you need.”

“Ooh, that sounds—ack!” Xiangling yelped, her hand darting down to massage the foot that Chongyun had crushed under his heel. If you hadn’t checked to see what happened under the table, you would have seen Chongyun gesture sharply at the entrance of the restaurant, causing Xiangling to cough loudly.

“I—I mean, I’m sorry, (Y/N), I just remembered I have a large delivery on Sunday! Yeah, lots of spicy chop suey…maybe Mr. Zhongli can go instead!”

“Zhongli?”

“Me?” A smooth baritone voice cut through the conversation, and you turned in your seat to see the man himself, the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor peeking from behind his arm.

“Right, Hu Tao?” If you hadn’t again been so distracted by Zhongli’s mere presence, you would have definitely seen Chongyun and Xiangling frantically gesturing for Hu Tao to play along. “A barbecue to help (Y/N) figure out how to create this recipe!”

“Hmm.” Hu Tao crossed her arms, her usual devilish smirk playing across her features. “I don’t know…”

“Hu Tao!” Chongyun hissed.

“Hehe, of course!” Hu Tao patted Zhongli’s arm like they were best buddies, and you had to laugh at the way Zhongli stiffened at the contact. “You’ll go, Mr. Zhongli, right? It wouldn’t be nice to keep (Y/N) all alone in the dark at this time of the year.”

“Whatever do you mean, director?”

“Aiya, I’m just saying, a gentleman as refined as yourself should be able to keep (Y/N) company and keep them safe at the same time, right?”

“R-really, it’s fine,” you laughed weakly, waving your arms. “Zhongli’s busy, and he’s probably tired after all the work he’s done today, so…”

“Not entirely,” Zhongli said. “I always have time for you, (Y/N).”

Silence fell. With rapidly warming cheeks, you turned to see Xiangling pursing her lips, evidently trying not to laugh, and Hu Tao’s signature shit-eating grin lighting up her entire expression.

“Well, then,” Chongyun coughed, trying to break the tension. “That settles it! Ah, Xiangling, you have a customer waiting…”

“That—that’s right!” Xiangling finally said, in between giggles. “Hu Tao—right this—hehe—right this way, please!”

You had no other choice but to watch Xiangling, Chongyun, and Hu Tao dash out of the restaurant’s premises, giggling up a storm and slapping each other’s arms.

Zhongli turned to you. “Have I said something?” he asked.

“...and...there!” You stabbed the last of the vegetables through the stick, and held it up to the glow of the moonlight. “How are you doing, Zhongli?”

Zhongli hummed in response, clicking the tongs as he flipped the meat he was grilling to its other side. “This is almost done,” he replied. “How do you like your meat? Well done?”

“A little on the rare side, please.”

“Alright.”

You placed the last skewer onto the plate, before leaning back and stretching. You’d figured that the best you can do in exchange for Zhongli agreeing to your little getaway was to let him pick the location, and you were so glad that you did—he’d picked out a spot on Mt. Tianheng that overlooked Liyue Harbor, letting you see the city in all its gilded splendor. Admittedly, it was a little difficult getting all the way up to it (even more so for Zhongli, who insisted on carrying the brazier that Xiangling had lent you), but the view at the top was completely worth it.

Soon enough, you had set down the basket and spread out a large table cloth (that you’d unceremoniously yanked from your dinner table when Zhongli came to pick you up) onto the grass, and you began grilling away, with no regard whatsoever for the recipes that you were supposed to be following.

Zhongli set the tongs down, and leaned over to check the skewers. He nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent work,” he noted. “I suppose we can grill half of these and leave the other half for you to grill by yourself at home.”

“Don’t be silly, Zhongli,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “You’re getting a portion to take home, too.”

“Of course, of course.” Zhongli held up one of the first sticks you’d skewered with a slight grin, remarking without words the haphazard way you’d cut up the vegetables. You scowled and attempted to snatch it away, but he held it out of your reach—which, even as he was sitting down, was practically miles away from your arm’s length.

“Zhongli.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re being mean.”

Zhongli chuckled. “My apologies. You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

You snatched the failed skewer away from him and quickly turned away. “You...you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.”

“I truly don’t.”

(Is he being serious?)

You snuck a look at him over your shoulder, and when you found the amused smirk still on his face, you huffed and crawled over to the grill, retrieving the meat that was about to go up in smoke.

“Oh?” You glanced over to see Zhongli flipping through one of your notebooks. “I know this song.”

“Seriously? Archons, just how old are you, Zhongli?”

Zhongli just smiled, as he’s always done when faced with the question of his age, and instead began to sing one of the lyrics off the page.

You didn’t expect to hear his singing voice now, of all times, under the glow of the moon and surrounded by the smell of barbecue and osmanthus wine. It was just as smooth and velvety as his normal speaking voice, washing over your entire figure like water over stones.

Before you knew it, you were singing along with him, as if you’d known the song all this time. The alcohol in your veins occasionally kicked your voice off-key, which only sent the two of you into hysterics; paired with full bellies and the cool winds of spring, you felt as if you were flying.

You weren’t sure if Zhongli was riding the same high as you were, given his typical reserved nature, but all doubts were dispelled when he leaned towards you, right as you were about to hit the chorus.

You wondered then, why those words sounded louder than the notes bouncing off the walls of Mt. Tianheng.

When you glanced over at him, your breath hitched; his eyes looked just like the setting sun.

The rising sun bathes the entire room in a soft light, but you feel none of its warmth.

The coldest area was, in fact, next to you; the only indicator that someone had occupied the space was a cup that had not been there the night before present on the nightstand. That aside, Zhongli’s side of the bed was pristine, clean, and—ultimately—empty.

You sit up with a tired grunt, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and letting the dawn of a new day settle on you. You stare at the cup on the nightstand and sigh, the initial hope that this morning would be different from all the mornings prior to today quickly turning to resignation.

Still, it would not do for you to mull in your sadness, so you push the covers off you and make your way to the kitchen. It all seemed predetermined to you, the way that you just knew that there would already be breakfast on the table, covered with a net to keep the flies away. You also knew beforehand that the house would be, just like his side of the bed, free of dirt and grime (only for them to accumulate once more, given that neither of you were ever truly home all the time).

If he has time to clean the house and make breakfast, he has time to kill in the mornings, you think bitterly.

Instead of sucking it up and eating anyway, you sit at the table, refusing to touch a single ceramic—in a quiet sort of defiance.

You sit there for seemingly hours, watching the sunlight filter through the broken window in the kitchen, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air like snowflakes. The house is quiet, except for the chirping of birds, sweeping in the streets, and the occasional idle chatter. It was the noise you were used to, having lived alone for months prior to when he came along, but for some reason, it was different this time.

This silence was louder, more deafening. Void. Empty. Like the hole that’s made its home in your heart, festering and growing in size over the weeks. If you listened closely, you could hear the wind whistling through the gap, like a canyon void of all life; as a child of freedom, a child of Mondstadt, the wind had always been your source of comfort. Now, all it did was remind you of just how much you’d carved yourself out for the people you held most dear.

Wordlessly, and as if guided by some unknown force, you place your hand over your heart. It beats, as of course it must, but the crater presses against your lungs; now, you no longer wonder why it’s been so difficult to breathe lately.

It was perfect. Everything had been so perfect, but looking back, you had most likely baited yourself into it. But who could blame you, with a lover that felt like the first spring after eons of winter?

You would cry, but no tears spring to your eyes. They must have fallen into the abyss, too.

Your eyes flicker to the sitting room instead, and try as you may, you see no signs of Zhongli having occupied any of the cushions. You scoff—in scorn or in sadness, you no longer know.

But something else catches your eye: the book sitting dangerously at the edge of the coffee table. Usually, stray books lying around are a common occurrence in your house, but you know why this one piques your attention.

“Who’s Guizhong?”

When you received no immediate reply, you glanced over your shoulder in questioning. Your lover stood in the kitchen with his back to you, shoulders taut and back stiff, even more so than usual.

“I would have thought you’d come across that name sooner,” he replied. “It’s basic Liyue history.”

“Mm.” You returned your attention to the book that one of the older scholars had recommended to you. “I just never really went in depth with the subject. Who better to ask than—”

“I’ve forgotten.”

You glanced at him again, this time in surprise. For a moment, you hear nothing but the sound of the kettle clinking over the fire.. The silence that had fallen over you felt as heavy as mountains, and you opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the words to shake them off you.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” Zhongli turned on his heel sharply, patting his hands dry on his pants before walking over to you to kiss the top of your head. “I’m going out.”

You scrambled to your feet, tossing the book back on the table as you watched Zhongli pull his coat on. “Zhongli, please, I’m sorry—”

“No, my darling, that’s not it. I just remembered I’d be meeting a client today.”

“At this hour?” Your throat was rapidly closing, sending you into tunnel vision as Zhongli stepped down to slip into his shoes.

(Where have you seen this scenario before?)

“It can wait until tomorrow, surely…”

“I’m afraid not. I just remembered at the last second, and I don’t want to risk the director spiking my afternoon tea with Jueyun Chili again.”

That drew a small laugh from you, but that was all it took for Zhongli’s features to soften. He gathered your face in his hands and kissed you gently, reverently, so much so that your knees felt as if they were about to give out at any time.

When he finally pulled away, he studied your face for a minute, before closing his eyes again and sighing.

“Don’t wait up,” he whispered, before pecking your nose and disappearing out the door.

You stared as the door closed in your face, the sound of the kettle screeching fading to white noise in the background.

Two days.

He’d been gone two days after that.

“Don’t wait up,” he’d told you. And he had the audacity to look surprised, when he finally came home, to see you nursing a cup of tea in the sitting room, with heavy bags under your eyes.

And so the cycle had begun. He’d disappear for days on end, under a new excuse every single time, though the work-related ones had quickly disappeared under a concerned Hu Tao’s thumb. When you had spoken to the director, you prayed she wouldn’t notice the quiver in your voice, nor the slight panic that had taken over your expression when she’d disclosed the truth—Zhongli had suddenly picked up the habit of skipping work.

But of course, he denied it all when you’d confronted him.

He’d come home every now and then, and though it left a bitter taste in your mouth, you attempted to check for signs that he’d been with someone else—lingering perfume, marks on his immaculate skin, anything—alas, there were none. For now, at least.

Zhongli, in his infinite wisdom, honestly believed that keeping the house neat and tidy and leaving food on the table would be enough to make up for his frequent absences. You would’ve told him that a single conversation would be enough to help you make sense of things—if he was ever home whenever you were.

It had gotten so bad that you yourself had lagged behind on your own work, instead spending the nights as you had when you first arrived at Liyue all those years ago: drowning your sorrows in bottles of wine. And then you’d stumble home alone, the lanterns hanging around swirling like comets in the sky as you attempted to navigate through the streets.

If only finding him was as easy as making your way home after one too many drinks…

...you slowly sit up straight.

You didn’t need to wait for him—not when you could just go out and find him yourself.

How simple. You chuckle to yourself, feeling light-headed at the utter absurdity of the whole situation. You know Zhongli wouldn’t question it this time. You’ve been known to follow him around, after all, knowing you were bound to learn something new from your encyclopedia of a lover when you were out in the open.

When your hands finally find themselves around the now cold teapot, you wonder what you would learn from him this time around.

And if it was something worth learning about, you wonder again, when you find him all by his lonesome in Guili Plains, your front covered in blood from clearing the hilichurl camp you’d come across on your way.

You grunted as you hauled yourself up, marking the end of your arduous journey to the spot Zhongli had requested to meet at. Liyue sprawled out beneath you, glittering under the blanket of night, but you barely spared it a glance—not when the person you were aching to see stood right in front of it.

Standing there, you found yourself at a loss for words. The weeks following the incident on Mt. Tianheng had you avoiding Zhongli like he was the plague, which he did in return. For a while, you attributed it to the sudden increase in commissions as a result of the events of the Rite of Descension; the assassination of the Prime Adeptus, Lord of Geo, Rex Lapis himself had shaken the entirety of Liyue to its core. But once the dust had cleared, and Zhongli finally came knocking on your door this morning, you couldn’t kid yourself any longer.

Your thoughts had been a mess; the weight of Zhongli’s words that night lurked in the deepest recesses of your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was true. Had love, which left you crying by the front door grasping at tailcoats, come back for you once more? Had it finally settled in your life, after years of skirting around the edges and endless promises of never falling prey to its clutches forevermore?

The questions disappeared, seemingly into thin air, when Zhongli finally turned around.

For a minute, you two just stood there, as if time had stilled and all that was left in the world was the weight of his gaze.

“(Y/N).” He spoke your name with a reverence that one typically reserves for prayer.

You only stared at him in response, heart hammering in your throat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really tested just how much you know about Liyue.” The wind picked up, and you caught the faint scent of Glaze Lilies. “Are you in the mood for some questions?”

You finally found the courage to speak. “Ask away.”

Zhongli turned back to the sight of Liyue beneath him, and to you, he looked like a god turning his divine gaze on the people below. “The amber on Mt. Hulao is said to be the work of the adepti, intended to trap intruders, monsters, and humans alike. True or false?”

You frowned. “It’s not an adeptus power. Amber is created by karst crawlers, most probably as a defense mechanism when something steps on it; the exploration team I sent out came back with a sample.”

Zhongli only hummed, and you worked up the nerve to walk over by his side. The familiar scent of incense quickly overpowered the sickly sweet aroma of Glaze Lilies, and you relaxed in its embrace.

“The goddess of salt, Havria,” he continued. “The gentle and kind deity who ruled over Sal Terrae who was said to be murdered by Morax at the height of the Archon War. Any thoughts on how this might have come about?”

“I…” You blinked in confusion. “I don’t...Zhongli, what is all this about?”

Zhongli remained silent, seemingly unaware of your bemused state.

You waved your hands helplessly. “The Archon War was a power struggle between deities of great ability. Fatalities were inevitable.”

“So you don’t believe that Morax, who slew countless other gods, gods that he once considered friends, had it in him to cast down another one if it meant clearing the way to becoming one of the Seven?”

“It may not have been Morax at all. Everyone was fighting against someone or something. What does the Lord of Geo have against salt?”

Zhongli chuckled, though it sounded a little distant. When he finally turned to you again, his expression was equal parts warm and wistful. He offered you his hands, and you placed your shaking ones in them.

“Last question.” He ran his thumbs over your skin. “You were there when you saw the Exuvia fall out of the sky at the Rite of Descension, yes?”

You nodded.

“Then Rex Lapis is dead.”

You felt your skin crawl, like lightning had started coursing through your system from your interconnected hands.

“True…” Zhongli cupped the side of your face, cradling it gently. “...or false?”

Looking into his eyes, you already knew the answer.

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