#''what is neuvillette's last name'' ITS NEUVILLETTE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

earthtooz · 1 year ago

Note

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc.

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.”

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you.

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you.

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion.

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them.

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.”

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now.

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much.

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?”

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure.

“Love you,” you murmur when parting.

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun.

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away.

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him.

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum.

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks.

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips.

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response.

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office.

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step.

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs.

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building.

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.”

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives?

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy.

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.”

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs.

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning.

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity.

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you.

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out.

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress.

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give.

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first.

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze.

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.”

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food.

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day.

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved.

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day.

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles.

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end.

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted.

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek.

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.”

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”

“Which was?”

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.”

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye.

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you.

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night.

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little.

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.”

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.”

“I love you, Wriothesley.”

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again.

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

#genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley x gn!reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

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woundedoves · 6 months ago

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Hi!! Are comfortable with a/b/o? If you are can I please request that with supernatural neuvi, wrio and arle? If not that's fine! Thankyousomuch I love ur works!! (*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ

A/B/O (Alpha) Supernatural Arlecchino, Neuvillette and Wriothesley x Omega Bottom GN!Reader (NSFW)

a/n: i … i got so horny while writing this…. breeding kink ughughugh

you can find the first part of supernatural au here! (NSFW)

warnings: claws, knotting, breeding(no genitalia mentioned), arlecchino has a cock, creampie, almost somnophilia with Neuvi (?) not proofread!

Arlecchino

your alpha is actually very considerate with your comfort even when she’s balls deep in her rut, walking into your room slowly, elegantly. as she takes your hand in hers and gives it a kiss, slowly trailing up your arm and lastly to your neck as she takes off your clothes and lays you on your back. likes to see your face when she’s fucking pups into you.

her dick is finally freed as she takes off her clothes while making quick work of your hole, prodding and fucking you with them as she tells you how cute you’re gonna look when you’re soo full of her pups.

you shiver in anticipation when you see her hard cock, its red and black ombre to the base, cleanly shaved just how she likes it on herself. her knot is the best fuckin part, you part your legs and look up at her w the cutest pout you can muster, “don’t go easy on me, do what you can, give me your pups i—“ your words are cut off when she slams her lips against yours with a groan, her claws coming out as they do with every rut, digging into your thighs as she pulls you close. breathing gets a little heavier as she lines herself up with your hole, slowly bottoming out with a low hiss that has you arching your back with tears already in your eyes. she’s so fuckin’ big, fucking hell.

her hand slowly snakes up to your neck as she chokes you for stability while she pounds her cock in and out of your hole. your eyes roll back as her strong hand keeps you down like a dog by your throat as she uses your hole like a fleshlight, all while just breathing a bit faster. never been one to make so much noise anyways. but you know she fuckin’ loves it, the way her dick is throbbing and the hand on your neck goes to your ass. folds you into the mating press as she gives her (almost) all to her thrusts, you’re a mess by now. begging for her to cum inside and knot you, you wanna be full of her puppies, be full of her.

she hisses one last time as she slams her hips again and again, cumming inside you as your lips meet in a breathless but harsh kiss, feeling your fragile form shiver under her with your own climax. she grunts as she plants her hands on either side of your head and pushes her knot in, making both of you moan in satisfaction. and fuck, you feel so full it makes you cum again, crying out her name as she kisses your neck and rubs circles on your thighs while waiting for her knot to go down.

Neuvillette

he turns into your favourite version of him, all horny and rutting against your ass like a desperate mutt. you smile as you feel both of his cocks hard and pressing into you, you decided to sleep naked that night as it was ‘too hot’… you just knew his rut was coming and wanted to test just how patient your precious dragon was.

moaning like a cheap whore when he pushes one of his cocks inside, the rough edges of it that only happen when he’s in rut make the stretch burn so fucking good as he whimpers. saying sorry like a matra as he fucks into you full power, his arms hugging your hips as he fucks into you from behind, each thrust louder than the last as you tightly close your eyes to feel as much as of that huge dragon dick as you could. moaning out ‘fuck yes’ and ‘don’t stop’ as Neuvillette is getting even whinier, his thrusts sloppy as he cums inside. doesnt stop though, keeps fucking his cum inside you even though you’ve been shaking from your own earth shattering climax.

“I’m… I’m sorry beloved I need this, please—“ he cries out as he lines his second cock into the same hole, any sounds fail to come out of your mouth when he thrusts the second one in and starts the punishing rhythm of his hips with no waiting for your comfort. your eyes roll back as you see stars, your body is limp as your beloved alpha uses you like a fleshlight. helpless and taking the way his cocks coat your insides with his cum, some of it gushing out of your hole as moans at the sight.

he cums with a cry of your name as he slams his hips onto your ass again and again, you’re pretty sure your ass is bruised by now, you couldn’t even feel it. you dont care though, not when two knots enter you and pump you full of your alpha’s cum. full of his pups. you try to breathe as Neuvilliette slowly licks your face and neck, when did he even bite down? his hands go to your belly to soothe your body’s pain. it’s somewhat helpful.

Wriothesley

you cry out as Wriothesley slams his hips again and again, his knot already inside but he refuses to stop fucking you. you’re bent over his desk, his rut finding him at the worst time. thankfully for him, you, his mate, showed up.

which means that there’s a puddle of cum and slick on the floor below your ass, your clothes have been torn off from your body, claw marks littering every part of your body but mostly; your thighs.

you feel his claws move to your chest as they play with your sore nipples, making you whimper as you feel his cock pump the 3rd load inside you. he licks and kisses your neck for a few seconds as you calm down. then he bites down on that sweet fuckin spot on your neck as he grinds his knot into you, making you cum again with a low moan of his name as he ruts into you.

you feel so fucking full, the way he’s just rutting that fat fucking knot into you while he littera your neck in kisses and bites, one of his hands going down to your sex and matching the rythym of his thrusts as he growls lowly, whining a bit when he finally stills as he cums again; his knot getting a little smaller as he places kisses on your back. such a good little mate for him.

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xuzuitengenx · 12 days ago

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Neuvillette x Pyro Dragon!Male Reader Oneshot

Part 1 HERE

Title: As We Meet Once Again

Genre: Angst (Potentially Fluff?)

CW and Info: NOT PROOF-READ AS ALWAYS, OOC moments, Lovers turn strangers, not following plot

QUICK A/N: ITS BEEN AWHILE SINCE I WROTE SO IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE

Neuvillette thought that the Lantern Rite in Liyue was beautiful. He saw the festive decorations, families being together, and different Liyue traditions all while he was shopping (and getting scammed).

Walking with 10 boxes of tea through the city of Liyue, he took observations of Liyue. While admiring, he thought of M/N. Some decorations or gifts reminded Neuvillette of M/N or knew that M/N would've loved it.

Neuvillette knows that he should move on from M/N ever since their last encounter. Letting out a sigh, Neuvillette shouldn't be thinking about him right now as he should be enjoying this day.

He will enjoy this day.

Neuvillette knew that he had gotten lost. He was supposed to meet with Furina and the others to go back to Fontaine but he doesn't see them and the area he is in doesn't make sense as there was no transportation even remotely near.

Neuvillette began to walk around to spot any of them or even Hu Tao since Furina and her were chatting a bit.

While his mind was occupied by trying to find anyone, he accidentally bumped into someone which cause the two to tumble a bit.

"Ah—my apologies." Neuvillette quickly said as he almost dropped the boxes of tea, not taking a peek at the person.

"It's alright, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Neuvillette perked up at the person's voice. It almost sounds like...no.

Neuvillette swiftly looks at the person and there was M/N, standing in front of him with that stupid cute smile of his.

"It was really my fault. Should've watched where I was going." M/N scratches the back of his neck with a soft laugh.

Nevulliette was beyond shocked. He never thought that he would see M/N again after that day. Words were caught in his throat as he had lots of things to say, his chest felt heavier yet happy to see M/N again.

M/N took note of Neuvillette's reaction.

"Uhm..Do you need help with carrying those boxes?" M/N asks, trying to ease the tension a bit.

Neuvillette reluctantly looks away from M/N and at the boxes he was holding. This was a bad idea, right? He shouldn't indulge himself with M/N again after everything.. but maybe what if this was his last chance to talk to M/N again, he should take that chance.

Nodding hesitantly, Neuvillette agreed on M/N's help. M/N quickly acted as he grabbed 7 boxes for Neuvillette to carry less.

"Where are you heading to?" M/N asked, looking at the white hair man.

Neuvillette was stuck on his words as he doesn't know where he's heading. All he knew was he needed to go back on the boats.

"Uhm—the boats..." He spoke to M/N while not looking at M/N, his nerves getting the better of him as he cleared his throat. M/N took notice of this and realized that Neuvillette was lost.

"I'll lead the way, Monsieur Neuvillette. Just follow me, alright?" M/N said, taking his eyes off Neuvillette as he began walking.

Neuvillette started following him, watching M/N work his way through the crowd. Neuvillette wanted to talk to M/N, to ask him why he left Neuvillette, and why is he talking to him now? His heart felt heavy as his mind was just filled with unanswered questions.

Speeding up to walk beside M/N, Neuvillette tried to talk but he couldn't. Nothing was coming out as he sneaked glances at the (H/C) hair man.

"M/N– Monsieur M/N.." Neuvillette started, getting the male's attention. "Hmm?" M/N hummed, hearing Neuvillette called his name.

Neuvillette couldn't find his words, thinking about what to ask first. Gripping on the tea boxes as he just blurted out a question.

"..Why? Why did you leave me on that day..?" Neuvillette stopped walking, making the other stop too. M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face softening at the question as Neuvillette's face was determined to find the answer.

Neuvillette replayed that day in his head, his heart pounding as he waited for a answer.

M/N sighed, thinking about that day.

"It's a lot to unpack and you are on a rush so I can tell you another time–"

"I want the answer now." Neuvillette cuts him off, not caring if he is late or if he gets left behind.

M/N was slightly taken aback but quickly composed himself. He looks around and happens to see a unused table near them. Looking at Neuvillette, he gestures with a tilt of his head to move there. Neuvillette follows M/N as they walked to the table.

Setting down the boxes of tea on the table, M/N looked at Neuvillette as Neuvillette quickly set down the other boxes.

Neuvillette looks at M/N, his arms crossing to show that he was not joking around. M/N slightly smiled at Neuvillette's action. He loved when Neuvillette did this as he thought it was adorable.

"Why I left, hmm?" M/N started, thinking back as he looked away. Neuvillette bit the inside of his cheek, wanting–no needing an answer.

"Natlan was.. in a middle of a war and I needed to fight in it." M/N started, looking back at Neuvillette.

M/N sighed. "There was no guarantee that I would live to see the end of it...and knowing that information, I immediately thought of you.."

Neuvillette slowly uncrossed his arms as his determined look started to break.

"I couldn't bare the thought of you absolutely destroyed if you knew that I died in the war. So, I thought of something which was to leave you.. I thought leaving you without no explanation would make you hate me and forget about me if I did died." M/N looked away, unable to look at Neuvillette as he spoke.

"I hated hurting you..So much.. I hate seeing you cry and even making you cry. I wanted to hold you and tell you about the war but I couldn't. I wanted you to move on if I died." M/N felt guilty, still not looking at Neuvillette as he finished.

Neuvillette listened till the end, his face held a heartbroken look and his heart aching. Neuvillette hesitantly walked close to M/N, his gloved hands going to M/N's face. His hands touching M/N's cheeks and gently guiding his face to look at him.

Once his purple eyes met the (E/C) colored eyes, his heart fluttered. It's been too long since he looked at M/N's eyes that he loves so much.

"You should've told me..I would have been fine..–"

"You wouldn't.. I know you too well, Neuvillette.." M/N's hands went on top of Neuvillette's gloved ones on his face.

Neuvillette took a breath when M/N's hands went on his. Taking in his touch he so dearly missed.

"..You still could've told me..when you left me, I didn't hate you.. My heart was completely broken, yes. But, I just couldn't bring myself to hate you.." Neuvillette spoke softly, not breaking eye contact.

M/N listened to Neuvillette, still feeling so guilty.

"..M/N, somehow..I still love you after all these centuries.." As Neuvillette said this, M/N felt his heart fluttered as his eyes widen. Neuvillette saw his eyes widening and felt regret. "I'm not sure if you still feel the same–"

"–I love you too." M/N cut him off, catching Neuvillette off guard. Neuvillette's heart started beating quickly as he processed what M/N said.

Neuvillette couldn't help but to smile. "Good.. that's good.."

M/N smiled back, taking in Neuvillette's beautiful features.

There was a much needed moment of silence as the two dragons just enjoy being back within each other's company.

"HEY, I FOUND HIM!" Furina's voice broke the silence as she yelled at the others of her discovery.

Taking their eyes off each other, they looked at Furina. Nevulliette's heart clutched as he needed to go and leave M/N. Looking back at M/N as his hands didn't leave M/N's cheeks, he didn't want to leave.

M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face clearly sadden. "It seems like you have to go." M/N spoke.

Neuvillette nods, reluctantly taking his gloved hands off of M/N which made M/N take his hands away too.

Neuvillette grabs all 10 of the boxes, starting to walk away from M/N before he stopped. Looking back at M/N, his eyes fixated on the man and he suddenly asked a question—or more of a statement.

"Come back with me." Neuvillette said, turning his full body to M/N.

"What?" M/N asked.

Neuvillette took a quick breath, repeating himself. "Come back to Fontaine with me.."

M/N scratched the back of his neck, thinking about what he just said.

"Please.." Neuvillette held a pleading look, hoping M/N would come with him. M/N looked at Neuvillette's face, his heart skipping a beat.

Finally, M/N nodded. "I'll go with you." M/N walked to Neuvillette. Neuvillette sighed in relief, smiling as M/N walked to him.

"Thank you." Neuvillette softly spoke.

M/N smiled. "Of course.."

THE END

#male reader #x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #seme male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette x m!reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette angst #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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jhuzen · 2 months ago

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the woes of a god [gn/m.reader]

definitely not my comeback piece. just got inspired randomly in the middle of so many things that i have been doing. i deeply apologize ;; 🙇‍♂️. this is just… a really long story that builds on the premise of the last story i posted TvT.

𖦹 big on genshin lore again, with a few interpretations of my own to fill in the gaps and insert the reader, creator reader but not sagau (again like the last story), focuses on post primordial one vs sovereigns, primordial one and second throne war, archon war, and post-cataclysm. features all six archons by their goetic names (the tsaritsa is conveniently not around), neuvillette, mentions of old seven and apep, this leans on a what if scenario, of reader coming down to teyvat before the archon war, reader is a little brutal but that’s okay ;;

The sky has never looked more fake.

Your eyes squint at the light that the world you have crafted bathed in. You had seen the horrific sights that lie beyond the peaceful blue that the skies projected before you.

Though it did little to bother any other living creature that now dwelled on your magnum opus. Your gaze drifts to the new beings, molded with striking differences from one another, their characteristics bound by the land that they were born on.

The day you had awoken was a painful ordeal to go through. The wounds that lodged within your very body is terrifyingly painful. And the very world that you had created and anchored into your body was the only culprit.

For a time, your masterpiece, Teyvat, felt like a malignant tumor that only propagated within your soul, corroding every piece of your self until you are no more. How ironic was it that your most cherished creation among all the other worlds became the very thing that causes you physical harm.

You had slumbered for a long time since then, and had dutifully descended. Your sleep was not only attributed to the pain during its descent, but also to mourn the painful passing of your beloved sovereigns. Your eyes cannot endure the fate they suffered through, and to this day, the guilt tramples over whatever sense of elation that you feel, washed over with the feelings of intense shame.

Their creator was you alone. No one else.

And when an alien being came to hunt them down for a war that lasted decades, you were nowhere to be found.

You were certain that Nibelung knew your gaze was casted on them, that he understood you were stepping away as a form of test, a way to see if he, as well as your seven sovereigns could withstand such a small conundrum such as a foreign descender.

The thought sickens you physically — you could only wonder if you putting your loving faith on them to be your champions in this war was a devastating mistake of yours that they paid for with their lives and dignity. Your mind could barely comprehend the kind of desperation that Nibelung must have felt for him to dive into the deepest depths and use a knowledge not of this world that Teyvat, and to an extent — your body, until now, struggles to recover from.

A sigh escapes your lips.

It was a gnawing ache, like those celestial larvae that crawl into your body, having a grand feast on it.

The day you descended, you had called on the elements that embodied this very world, seeking answers for what had happened when you were in such a deep sleep, entirely clueless of the events, with only a body that aches from the physical wounds it sustained to guide you to the clues about Old Teyvat’s demise and the embarking of its new age.

You had learned that day, that after the devastating defeat of your dragons, it imparted a new life. And now, humans walked the very ground you had crafted for dragons to walk on initially. You have also learned that the tiny vishaps have retreated deep into Teyvat, living under the hopeless depths, making do and surviving in such a decrepit environment.

Coming in contact with them was nothing more than a world full of hurt when you came to the realization that even the vishaps are terrified of your light. It had shattered a piece of you, and have only grieved with nothing but shame and regret.

And even when you left, the despairing echoes of your cries remained beneath as the vishaps’ lullabies as well as the tears that created a pool for them to bathe in.

Your cries that soothed the vishaps became a haunting legend in a certain civilization that had collapsed and fell through the depths. Children cowered at the stories told about the harrowing echoes, and the scholars of that very civilization had recorded your voice as a mere phenomenon, a tale for the insane, a story for bedtime to frighten unruly children.

Much after the grieving that you had succumbed to, you had learned the stinging pain that pierced through your body that keeps persisting to this day was the work of these pillars — you have come to know them as its divine nails, made to heal the lands of Teyvat from the parasitic effects that the forbidden knowledge inflicted when it was used during the wars.

Quite frankly, it did little to heal your body as you feel the way it seems to lodge within your very core, destroying and corrupting pieces of your soul.

Your first journey since your awakening was nothing short of enlightening. You had learned much about the turn of events. Your dragons have suffered enough, with the few alive ones like the Dragon of Verdure incredibly spiteful of the new race that came about.

And you were not clueless about the sharp tone Apep had taken when she first talked to you after your disappearance during the war between it and the seven sovereigns. You understood the bitterness and sheer betrayal that she had felt, knowing that all this would have been prevented had you only decided to lend a hand.

You left Apep’s abode with little pity for yourself and more remorse for not being a proper artisan to your creation.

But as you watched a civilization grow among the vast sands, you also cannot help but disagree with the unsavory words that Apep had described the new life.

Yes, they were small.

But you understood that humanity is not insignificant.

Gods have always fascinated you.

You understood that to some degree, you too, are a god. You understood that way before Teyvat became a project of yours. Your previous creations that were successfully inhabited with the creatures you had given life to worshiped you, and your descent on your visits were always welcomed with celebrations of endless grandeur.

Things were no different once the sovereigns had come to realize that you were the source of their life and the very world they live in right now. And you had also been crowned as Teyvat’s primordial deity.

However, the age of humanity had given birth to two differing types. There were the normal humans — mortal, average in strength, and so easily swayed by their desires and fears alike.

And then there were the immortals. You had come to realize that immortals came in all forms. Some had originally been creatures of the myth, others were mere elemental manifestations, spirits, or humans that were lucky enough to be ordained and strong enough to defy all the odds that an average human can only do.

There were also gods who took the shape of creatures — sea monsters, newer dragons that were striking descendants of the ancient ones.

You understood then, that even immortals, much like mortals, answered to the authority that reigned supreme in your world, someone who is not you.

Glancing up at the sky, your gaze immediately drifts to that floating piece of land, meant to hold the thrones of those revered by the new worldly life.

And just as you were finally understanding the existence of gods lesser than you, the one above who has stolen your very presence of authority declared an all-out brawl across Teyvat, deeming your very masterpiece its playground for needless bloodshed and barbaric warfare.

It declared seven thrones for seven remaining gods that would triumph above all.

And nothing could prepare you for the prize of winning one.

It was an unforgettable feeling — the way your blood ran cold as it presented seven ornaments in unique shapes, each containing a very familiar power that you have cultivated and given yourself.

The prize was the authority of your defeated sovereigns.

Mockery. You thought it was mockery. You thought whatever resides up there knows you were lurking, relearning Teyvat after your forced slumber for survival, and decided to taunt your everlasting grief over your creations by using the very dignity of each dragon sovereign that you had entrusted those authorities to.

And now, it taunts you in such a needlessly cruel way, by desecrating your world once more through an all out war between the very gods they have also created.

It was a jarring era. You took part in aiding the defenseless mortals, taking whoever in the tiny nooks all over the world. You had brought several mortals in your sanctuary in times of desperation while gods have staked their claim by surviving battle after battle.

Tactics were employed by different gods, differing in styles. Some had bargained for it, some willingly gave their throne to a god they deem fit, others who are weaker opted to team up with those that can trample over others, some had forcibly taken what was rightfully theirs, and some had willingly shut themselves off, cowering away in hopes of being left alone so they may protect their people in peace.

You had learned by then that even gods… can succumb to their desires and fears.

It had been long since the great war among gods had concluded.

However you can still feel the bittersweet sensation that pulsed through your veins as you watched all seven take their seats, claim their divine thrones, and hold the vessels for the power stolen from your elemental dragon sovereigns.

You would remember them as they staked their claim over their regions.

Barbatos, Morax, Baal, Rukkhadevata, Egeria, Xbalanque, and previous Tsaritsa.

You recall them well enough — considering that they have managed to unearth the truth of Teyvat’s existence. They came to you, offering themselves for you to indulge at the cost of recognition.

The original seven, eager as they were to meet you, were promptly shut down with a smile on your lips.

“You are not mine to claim, as my blood does not flow through any of yours’ veins.”

Suffering became an easy friend of yours.

You had gone through so much already, and your body as well as Teyvat have yet to heal and recuperate from the effects of the many wars that transpired on this world.

And here comes another one.

However, this time, someone had played the role of Icarus, and had flown way too close to a certain parasite.

It dawned on you as the familiar stinging pain seeped though your very core, breaking you once more little by little, its persistence unmistaken when you first felt it when the very first war erupted in this world.

Someone had unearthed Nibelung’s discovery of the forbidden knowledge and decided to use it.

You remember it vividly — yet another huge devastation that came to Teyvat. However, the catastrophe was marginally bigger compared to the horrid Archon war. And with the discomfort of bearing through that disgustingly painful experience, you had plunged into yet another slumber.

By the time you had awoken, you realized how deeply affected each and everyone was. Many comrades have died, some were affected, and you had come to find out that even the archons had to make some incredibly difficult sacrifices that dealt equally devastating blows to their very being.

You had little to say.

However, you have much to do.

Perhaps it was your guilty conscience that pushed you into this long journey. However, you were not guilty of being asleep while the fallen nation had wreaked havoc with their circumstances. Your guilt lied within the fact that you had never gotten to console your dragon sovereigns when they were defeated by it.

Most of them were dead, others were sealed and unable to reincarnate.

And so this was your way of making it up to them, albeit… with the archons, those who remained, and those who are now stepping up into their new responsibilities as a member of the newly established seven.

You had first visited the cold region of Snezhnaya, paying a visit to their new Cryo Archon, who has been planning something else entirely. She had willingly entertained you, despite the slight edge and tension within her. However you understood that you were limiting her desire to continue on with her plans, and so you were quick to disappear from that very nation.

Barbatos has always held you in a high regard the moment his eyes were opened to your existence. The heavenly principles call you the slumbering sloth, deeming your forced slumber and inactivity to act against the horrors Teyvat has gone through a mistake on your part as a creator.

But he deems it as a slander, and he quietly protests at the image imposed so heavily on him. He adored the freedom you had granted — giving free will to the creatures that now live on your domain, and it was that freedom that had continued to flourish within him, spurring on a belief that he had cultivated since the moment he received his gnosis.

In that tiny piece of divinity, he felt you. Quietly lurking across the lands of Teyvat, minding your own affairs without intent of reconnecting with others.

And when he and his fellow archons sought you for answers, you had little to say. Shutting them down with an indifferent gaze — no, Venti hardly calls it indifferent, the mask sure was indifferent, but there is a sense of agony that seems to seep out from that very mask.

Barbatos sleeps for eons not to gather his bearings, but to feel closer to you.

And now here he finds you in the waking world, gaze overlooking Mondstadt — currently rebuilding the life that was devastated by the cataclysm alone. His wings tuck behind him, respectful as he was as he bowed to you.

“They have it handled, Your Benevolence,” he regards you with a carefree grin on his lips, “…Humans are strong. And that freedom I’ve given them will flourish.”

“You seem so sure of it,” you respond without missing a beat.

“…They are still ignorant of you, and they do not realize that the freedom I embody is how I carry your will,” his voice comes out in a quiet purr, a reverent tone that held nothing but unadulterated adoration and devotion.

Your gaze seems too far — looking at the horizon and Barbatos wants to see what your eyes can see in this world. What perspective you have, what you think of the new Teyvat and what you think of him, carrying out your principles through his own beliefs.

“…Let us hope it is not a mistake,” you mumble, your fingers gently caressing those pristine white wings of his, and Barbatos relishes in the feeling.

He held back a wince as he felt a sharp sting from when you plucked a feather from his wing.

Barbatos had one thing to say.

“If it is your will, then it shall be done.”

You had doubts with that. You had your will — and it was done. And where did that lead you? Facing a god bearing the face of a creature that now replaced your creations.

You sucked in a sharp breath before smiling, a shallow gesture as you tucked in Barbatos’ pure white feather behind your ear.

“Mm… it shall be done,” you repeat, and a gentle breeze brushes past you. A tiny whisper and a loving kiss from the archon himself.

You accept it with a quiet hum.

Morax had more questions than the blatant adoration that Barbatos held for you. He first came to you apprehensive and tense, but you knew that he understood that he had to be around in order to get the answers he desired. He came to you with the arrogance and bravado befitting of a god.

How pathetic was it that he looked more like a god than you will ever be. But when he did, you were in a fit of deep sorrow when the heavenly principles made a mockery of your sovereigns and had given it to these new gods that prevailed mostly through bloodshed and sheer force.

He questioned your methods, Morax understood so little about your motives, about your life, about your method of creation. However arrogant and mighty as he was, he held deep respect for you still, you were the creator of the dragons that inspired him to mold his likeness into the same sort when he presented his Exuvia during his descent in Liyue.

And yet you still managed to devastate him as you first rejected him along with the first seven. Unlike Barbatos who saw agony, Morax felt the indignant resentment that enveloped your divine being, and it rubbed him the wrong way.

Morax was quick to straighten himself up, and was eager to wisen himself.

Right, he was taught to understand others.

Your legacy was infamous for losing against the heavenly principles’ divine intervention, that your sordid draconic creations were no match for the primordial one and its shades. That your era was replaced within a battle that only lasted for a few decades. And as you sat at the edge of the tall mountains that he had shaped, gracefully indulging in the tea ways away from Chenyu Vale, he could only bask in your divinity as he stood behind you, keeping a watchful gaze of your very being.

You still had that alluring glimmer that he saw when he first came to you.

An uneasy feeling grasps onto his very being. Perhaps it was the lingering trauma of being rejected by you initially that even served his cautious display now.

“…You’ve done well,” you murmur quietly. A simple, quiet praise, and Morax’s knees nearly buckled at the sheer weight. Of all the times he had been on the battlefield, none could outweigh the suffocating feeling that you suddenly imparted to him.

He feels the weight of expectations while your gaze swept over Liyue’s entirety. And Morax invites it wholeheartedly. His body gives into the sudden pressure that weighed him down, prompting him to go down on one knee, head bowed with a reverent expression.

Morax adores you so much.

“I have taken great inspiration from your creations, Your Benevolence. I have crafted them with you in mind, with how you may envision my nation to its way to prosperity.” His voice sounds like a whisper compared to your melodious echo. “It pleases me greatly to be praised by you.”

Your eyes flit to the countless mountains that were not there before. No doubt they have been shaped with the aid of Morax’s newfound authority over the land with his won authority over Geo.

“As an artisan, I must say, you have truly outdone yourself,” you quietly muse, resting the teacup between your thighs. “You have the talent, I would be remiss to not take you in and teach you few of my personal techniques.”

Morax’s breath hitched, his lips tremble, making his way towards you, half-crawling like a pest that now will surely refuse to leave your side. He had done well in his mind — redeemed himself from the foolish arrogance he once had that might have caused your blatant rejection of his being at first. But now, you were willing to let him learn from you, and that was a step far bigger than any god could have ever made.

“…Please,” he mumbled, his fingers digging into the dirt as desperation floods his mind wave after wave. “Please… please, Your Benevolence. Impart your knowledge to me. I will forever be grateful.”

Nothing could prepare him from your quiet laughter, amused by his devotion.

He is quiet, sucking in a sharp breath as he heaved a quiet sigh of sheer pleasure and relief. A genuine desire blossoms through his chest, flourishing and spreading like an illness that cannot be remedied with something remotely as simple as a handful of ground up adeptal herbs.

It took you one look to understand… that you ought not to shatter his genuine bliss. That you ought to not tell him you merely laughed in memory of the dragon who once possessed the authority that now Morax holds.

Beelzebul has always been off with you. She did not know how to feel. Adoration and the imminent desire to devote her life to you was not the first thing she had felt. Perhaps her twin sister did, Baal always did have a sense of innate fanaticism that even as her identical twin, Beelzebul could not understand.

Though she understood that when she saw Baal so utterly heartbroken after speaking so highly of you that she felt enraged. Her sister had rightfully earned her throne in the heavens, to receive that Electro Gnosis, it was hers to have with no room for argument. She had won the favor of the higher power, so why… pray tell… have you rejected someone as strong as her?

She thought you were blind to the notion of strength. She thought you were a fool — to not have seen the grace of power that Baal, that Makoto, had in her hands. For you to refuse the adoration her twin sister felt was nothing short of an insult to Beelzebul. And for a long time, she had intent to make you recognize Baal.

And then the catastrophe comes and long gone were her desires to turn your gaze towards her sister.

Traumatized, Beelzebul had little to say as she lamented over Baal’s death on that horrid war. The war that combed through Teyvat, claiming the lives of not only powerless and helpless mortals but gods like Baal fell.

On that one moment, Beelzebul casted aside her resentment, and begged for you to see just what her sister was willing to do to protect your creation. To witness the pain Baal had to go through despite her inability to curry your favor.

How ironic was it, that now, overcome with immense grief and desire to achieve the eternity Beelzebul wanted for her people, that you decided to come.

The puppet hung still, lifeless and incomplete from the waist down. Beelzebul stood by, and an odd sentiment of understanding for Baal’s fascination and love for you washes over her, as if Beelzebul was programmed to love you in an instant. Her watchful gaze never left you as you walked around, analysing the puppet Beelzebul was in the middle of creating.

Your gaze — one that Baal had longed to have — was directed at Beelzebul now.

“Your desire to reach eternity… is this puppet the answer?” You ask, “Free from erosion, everlasting puppet, made to run your territory to a perfected pace.”

Beelzebul’s footsteps echo as she closed the distance between you and her inch by inch. She becomes minutely aware of your divinity. It was like no other. It provokes the inner sanctums of Beelzebul’s physical being.

Beelzebul wants to cry.

And she wants you to hold her.

You took note of how she stepped back, before responding to you, regarding you respectfully, “…Yes, Your Benevolence.” Her eyes flit to the features of the puppet. He is hardly molded to her likeness, but it shows, beautiful and everlasting. “An eternity does not succumb to the rotting scent of gradual decay. He is a mere prototype, a test of what shall be my true creation.”

“Pity that is,” you quietly murmur. “He would have been a precious one,” you gently cupped his cheeks around your hands.

Beelzebul watched with confusion and interest as your lips press against the puppet’s forehead.

“Blessed be thy path. Return to me and you will be recognized.”

You walked towards her, the ends of your robes fluttering behind you. Her breath hitches at the feeling of your hand over her sternum, “…And may you return to me, should your pursuit come into a halt.”

It felt like a challenge, but Beelzebul does not miss her desire for it to be a mere comfort from a god who is clearly far greater than she will ever be. Undeterred, Beelzebul turns to the puppet and resigns herself into yet another long period of endless work.

There will be eternity. And at the heart of that very eternity will solely be you and her.

Buer knew the day she was born that she had huge shoes to fill in. Her predecessor was a great one, and their domain altogether was far bigger than one could imagine. Sumeru had a tall order and young little Buer had to fulfill it all on her own.

She was born into succeeding Rukkhadevata’s greatest feats, already pushed into the limelight to take over and take action over the nation that her predecessor had managed to cultivate with her compassion and wisdom. Buer was intimidated, she had enough sense to admit and accept such a fact. Buer admired her predecessor, and will continue to do so, loving her endlessly and singing praises about the hard work that Rukkhadevata had put into establishing the rule of Sumeru.

Hence, Buer finds it so difficult to find her footing. Everything she does feels so little in comparison to her predecessor’s achievements, and it was not long before a part of that adoration turns into a quiet hum of deep insecurity, seeding into Buer’s heart that forced her into a never ending cycle of pressure and admiration.

“You have so much on your mind, little one.”

Her mind clears, and she stares up into you. You — the one adored by many, and one that Buer was certain Rukkhadevata had also adored and held in such a high pedestal and rightfully so. Buer wonders how you are able to withstand the crushing weight of pressure that you probably feel on your shoulders as you carried the very fate of this world that was secured and anchored well into your body.

“Your predecessor was the same,” you continue while your fingers slowly cross strands of her hair over the other, neatly plaided. “I watched her scramble around, trying to clean up the messes that her fellow god kings have caused. I watched her get smaller and smaller, sacrificing every part of herself into clearing out catastrophes one after the other.”

Buer agrees without a word. Perhaps not even a god like you is immune to just how truly amazing the original Dendro Archon was as you sang her praises.

“The world is ill, little Buer,” you mention as you gracefully tied her hair to the side. “And when Teyvat is ill, I too suffer the same painful fate.”

No person could understand the paradoxical nature of the feelings that slowly invited itself into Buer’s heart.

She feels light from your encouragement and yet feels utterly crushed at the weight of expectations that you have placed on her, whether or not it was your intention.

Buer feels smothered by it all, and it feels so damning, so terribly incapacitating that it pains her. But Buer loves you. You came to guide her like a parent would to a child when Rukkhadevata had given her the stage to guide a region far bigger than any other archon’s claim.

“I know, Your Benevolence…” she quietly murmured.

Buer’s eyes opened, and the green tint of this prison she was in knocks her out of her daydream. Her palm presses flat against the barrier. A wave of loneliness comes over her being, and it hurts. It had only been a year or two since you came and since her capture, but she had never felt so alone in a solitary prison that Rukkhadevata once used for her own benefit now being used against her own successor.

Where are you? Are you coming back? Are you sending a champion to rescue her? How long will she stay here? A century? Five? A millennium?

Buer prays to you. She asks for an answer. An answer that you alone can possess.

The God of Wisdom seeks your knowledge in desperation, hoping you do not turn a blind eye.

From her prison of isolation, Buer could only hear the last words you have said to her;

“Happy birthday, Little Buer…”

Focalors much like the others in the same state as her had rightfully succeeded the throne of the original archons that now perished in that catastrophic event. Focalors was a mere oceanid, following after Egeria’s will as the late Hydro Archon was led into a battle that she would no longer return from. And now, Egeria’s corpse lays within the deserts of Sumeru, where the late Dendro Archon had buried and cultivated her corpse into a tree that will always be a good distance away from the very nation Egeria ruled over.

Focalors feels injustice against her predecessor now that she has shouldered the prophetic curse that the heavenly principles have decided to rule against Egeria for her sin. Her sin. Focalors’ eyebrows furrowed — was it so bad that the late archon created life? That she had desired to create humans the same way that it had done. She recalled the day Egeria was blessed with the wisdom of your existence.

A sole artisan, you, had created this world. And another one came to give birth to a new realm inhabited by humans. You were not their creator, but from your inaction, it was clear you had accepted, or at the very least tolerated humanity that now thrives on the world you have created. Egeria holds a different opinion compared to the other archons. She thought it was fair that you had rejected them initially, in a way it was your justice to refuse associating yourself with the creatures that replaced your original creations.

Hypocrites, the one that they answer to are all hypocrites.

And the feelings further exacerbate as she feels your hand press against her back. Her shoulders squared as you danced with her, a faint melody from your quiet hum was the only rhythmic guide to this romantic tango of two lonely gods.

There is a sense of longing that stews within the waters of Teyvat, Egeria once told Focalors upon receiving the Hydro Gnosis. And now that she is in close proximity with you, the feeling was overwhelmingly palpable. Her chest hurts as it tightened with every step she took, following after your flawless footwork.

This was a tragedy in the making and Focalors was eagerly participating in it.

“Does it hurt?” She asks you, adoring the serenity etched into your face as a defaulted expression. “To have your name sullied by the injustice inflicted by the winners? That no human speaks your name and sings your praises?”

You flawlessly spin her away until she comes back in your grasp, “I am in agony,” you admit with a haunting smile, mirthless and still so beautiful, “Even more as I am reliving him through you.”

The pace picks up and Focalors hurries, having little time to catch her breath as she feels an unsettling pull wash over her. There was a desire to please you, as if your request cannot be denied outright. Maybe it was the world asking her to do your bidding, or maybe Egeria had programmed this into her very core when she was created as a mere Oceanid familiar.

Before she was even aware, the humming comes to a close and Focalors was bowing like you to an audience of nothing but the endless sea and the creatures that lurked beneath it.

You tilt your head to the side, “I hope I have relayed my feelings well enough to you.” You smile at her and Focalors’ grip on your hand tightens significantly.

You don’t say it, but she feels it. She has the authority of the everlasting waters — your tears, your agony, your pain. And it drowns her further and further until it suffocates her and dissolves her being, much like the dreaded prophecy she was tasked to solve by her predecessor.

Give it back. Give him back.

He was never gone. Focalors had not met him, but she knew of his existence. She knows what you want.

Focalors was blessed with great intelligence, and knew how to kill two birds with one stone. She had thought about it. She could solve the prophecy and fulfill your wish.

Focalors was a romantic as much as she had a flair for the dramatic. She loved humanity above all but perhaps her love for you exceeds that even just for a generous millimeter.

A quiet sigh escapes her lips.

“Applaud me for my performance once it ends, Your Benevolence.” She requested in a quiet voice, and she pities herself for feeling immense satisfaction from a mere wordless nod from you.

For you, who had accepted the humanity that Focalors loves, the archon would do the same. She would accept your selfish wish and make it come true, indulge in your quiet favor, be the one you will forever love and adore even in her death.

Haborym has heard of the tales of the great one. How the very world was shaped by your divine hands, like a sculptor carving out the features of your next masterpiece. But that was only after the First Pyro Archon had gained control over the Pyro Gnosis roughly a thousand and five hundred years ago, one that uncovered the existence of a will greater than the ones that ruled over them from above.

However, most of the people of Natlan remain blissfully unaware of one of the many secrets that the lineage of Pyro Archons have known by their succession to the heavenly throne.

They were unaware of Xbalanque’s great failure in gaining your favor. The failure of the first Pyro Archon that assumed the throne. And the next archons in line that failed after it.

It was much like the pilgrimage, once an archon, not only are they tasked to care for Natlan’s delicate situation against the Abyss, their people, but also they must try again to gain your favor. It was like a tradition, an obligation even — passed down from one archon to another, seeing how they can succeed in what Xbalanque, as great as he was, completely failed at.

Perhaps you were exasperated by the constant badgering for the Pyro Archons that came before Haborym, because somehow, before she could even get to you, you had appeared before her during the havoc that Khaenri’ah’s incident has wreaked upon your lands. You came to her while she finished wringing out every bit of life of any Rifthound that threatened the lives of her people.

She had exerted much of her energy, and though she had enough energy still for more confrontations along with the revered heroes of Natlan, you had come to aid her even for a second. She felt your cooling touch that soothed any aches that rooted deep within her from the abyssal creature’s devastating attacks. She is mostly certain that any normal person would crumble into dust if they even were swiped at by one measly claw of these things.

Regardless, that was the first time you and her had met. Haborym barely registered the truth in your identity before you swiftly disappeared.

And now confusion only grows more evident in her core as she watched you, sat atop the tallest valleys in Natlan’s many plateaus. You sat, cross-legged as you watched the nation slowly recover from its terribly huge loss. You seemed lax, for someone having witnessed the lands of your creation nearly succumb to the abyss. But you were hardly fazed, with your face resting on the palm of your hand.

“…I must extend my apologies.” You finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Haborym feels a sense of camaraderie, and oddly enough, it prompts her to sit beside you. Her fellow archons — whether within Natlan or among the other nations — have always placed you on such a high pedestal. However perhaps it was because Haborym was a human before she was… well, Haborym.

But the humanity that dwelled within her thrives and connects with what she can perceive as a small island of humanity within the seas of your divinity. It was small, but it was irrational, loving, and resentful, all emotions hardly any gods, much less a higher being like you should never be bothered with.

Haborym takes a deep breath before nodding, “I accept your apology.”

She thinks she’s doing better than the preceding Pyro Archons when she heard your laughter. Somehow, Teyvat grew a little brighter upon that single moment.

“I believe I have a hand in the failure of Natlan. The reason why your nation has suffered far more devastating blows was because of the weak constitution of the leylines,” you explained, and it was not news to her. It had been the consistent problem that hung over the heads of the previous Pyro Archons, and now hers.

Haborym nods. She doesn’t ask the question of why, and patiently waits for what else you have to say.

“I am certain you don’t need any explanation, however… I created this place without factoring in the possibility of your kind’s creation. Had I known, your lands would not have been the backdoor for the darkness that threatens to consume the lives of your people.”

You smiled a little, throwing a glance at Haborym, “…You must understand, I am a creator in belief that all good things must become bad… and all bad things must become good. I believe in the equilibrium of the worlds — that all must learn the essence of balance. It is why Teyvat is my masterpiece, because it encapsulates my belief.”

“Creation must face destruction, and destruction must birth creation. That is the essence of my samsara.”

Your words felt like a hint, and Haborym’s eyes dart towards the heart of Natlan, where the Sacred Flame burns bright and hot.

And Haborym was taught from a young age that a true god’s wisdom is never something to overlook.

You had to applaud the collective effort of everyone in Teyvat. Five hundred years later and it keeps thriving from the devastating cataclysm. And now you have met a fitting champion to wield your will. Though they only wished to see their sibling.

The Heavenly Principles finally did something right in setting the stage as your challenger.

Your gaze drifts from the piece of land in the unreachable parts of the sky, down to the tea that you were wonderfully having with the bearer of your tears.

Focalors was right — her performance was unbearably long, however intensely impressive. You had honored her sacrifice with a permanent seat in the dining table of your private sanctuary nestled within the dark seas of Teyvat, where only the seats were personally crafted by you and were only enough to fit the humongous forms of the dragons that once ruled over your world.

She, among the other divinities that were not of your creation, was the first to earn your respect and genuine love.

“Is the tea to your liking?”

You still find yourself looking up on instinct just to meet the sharp gaze of the Hydro Sovereign, only to look back down to see a human being as his incarnation. Though his piercing gaze was certainly not lost on you.

“Hot enough,” you mumbled, “Bitter enough,” you added, recalling the tastes of one divine puppet that found his way back to you through your golden champion and little Buer’s rehabilitation.

Neuvillette quietly basked in the grace of your being. You had not changed one bit. He had recalled your presence when you first met him within the little tunnel on the side of Palais Mermonia during his break, and after Focalors’ final act, he was consumed with memories of you when you first descended in Teyvat.

As the bearer of your tears, he was your sole confidant, something even his fellow sovereigns envied him for all those years ago.

“…I have many questions,” he prompted the conversation, refusing this first meet to be mere session of stewing in silence and basking in each other’s presence. It was clear how dear he was to you, but his memories that eluded him suddenly came crashing down certainly gave him a terrifying and confusing time.

You had nowhere to be, and the traveler was busy with their affairs and many other adventures.

“We have all the time now,” you chuckle, watching the tiny whirlpool in your tea after stirring in a pinch of sugar. “After all, reunions are meant to be focused on reconciling with one another, like two old friends who have lost touch for… thousands of years perhaps.”

“Though I understand my… old life… was subjected into being your confidant for eons to come, I must exercise my impartiality to you.”

You laughed, amused at Neuvillette’s words. Though you respect him as a friend, nodding along. A creation could never judge a creator — it is what many among your fellow artisans have believed. But you have seen when worlds have rallied against their creator, and some have managed to kill theirs for justice or desperation.

You once walked the world of a now deceased colleague, who created a world filled with oppression, where the waters do not flow, and the pantheon of that very world have sought to fight the very god that created them in the first place.

Cruel as it was, you relished in bathing in that artisan’s never ending tears, flowing from their closed eyes as their decapitated head became the new mountain that births fresh water to their creation.

Nevertheless, for hours, you were subjected into endless questions, interrogated from left to right by the Hydro Sovereign that wanted answers more than anything. You had the key and had willingly opened the chest to him, absolving him of the troubles that might have weighed down on him once he received the Hydro Authority that was rightfully his when Focalors killed herself before his eyes.

The questioning only boils down to two questions left. Significant enough for Neuvillette to base his new opinion of you.

However you only had one proper answer for one of them.

“…Do you detest the Heavenly Father for his actions against the new order?”

You had thought long and hard about it. You wandered Teyvat for years to understand what you felt about it.

And you had the proper answer for it.

“Nibelung did what he had to do,” your eyes glazed over, and Neuvillette follows your gaze. Before he could think you were being disingenuous, you focused your attention back to him, gazing firmly into his eyes. “I had thought I felt injustice and resentment for his… foolish actions.”

You picked up the teacup, savoring the bitterness that the liquid offered.

“However I came to realize that he was desperate enough to seek the forbidden knowledge. Only then was I consumed with guilt. I mourned him and you and your brethren. Apep despised me when I visited her in the desert of Sumeru.” You recounted with a quiet hum. “I know not of what happened to the others, but I understand that my inaction may have forced his hand.”

“I feel guilt and I will prostrate myself as an apology before you if you so wish,” you offered.

Neuvillette thinks it was a coincidence when he felt the same. Him and his fellow sovereigns could have defended the world you had generously gifted them before. But a terrifying thought comes to his mind that perhaps his role as the Hydro Sovereign had him tethered to you even in his own emotions.

It was his new crisis — whether or not he truly feels guilt or if he merely shares it with how well connected he is to you.

“Please do not subject yourself in such a disgrace. You are my creator.”

“And my creations have been neglected until their death,” you countered with ease and Neuvillette doesn’t know if it was his programmed reverence that stops him from contesting you or that he also feels that your words ring true.

You stood up from your seat, walking over to him, and he basks in your presence yet again, nearly losing himself like how Fontainians before he had forgiven them dissolved within the Primordial Sea.

You pulled him in a gentle embrace, his stiff posture leaning awkwardly against your midsection as he sat still.

Neuvillette could hardly pull himself together. Your affection feels forced, an obligation that had to be done to console him, and further puzzles him if you shared his emotions or if you truly felt bad for the guilt that he claims he feels.

“…Then, if it is guilt that you feel. Do you resent humanity for flourishing in a world that does not have an allowance for their existence?”

That one, you had no answer for.

Humanity is so beautiful, but you had come to learn that you were merely tolerating them.

Neuvillette feels himself stiffen as your warm body grows cold in this one-sided embrace.

He may be the one responsible for judging the archons and the heavenly principles that had done you wrong.

But he was never the one to call the shots when judging the fate of this world.

After all, an artist can orphan their work once displeased.

Neuvillette just got you back. And he is certain that though the archons were tied within the Heavenly Principles, they desired your presence more than the ones they were expected to answer to.

You had graced him with a subtle kiss on his forehead, loving and forgiving.

“Focalors had you convinced that humanity was worth it,” you mutter, “So it must be true that they have something to offer.”

He looks up to see a small smile on your face.

Empty. Haunting. Grim.

“…If one dead god can convince you, how many do you think would it take to convince me?”

And just like the sky, your benevolence has never looked more fake.

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scaredpigeons · 1 year ago

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Deus Auri

Zhongli x reader (gn)

Word count: 1.04k (smol)

CW: sfw:) mild spoilers for Neuvillettes voice lines about Morax, he calls him Deus Auri, which is god of gold in Latin— might just be a title but any little tidbit of Morax we get I just gobble gobble up. Flirting, zhongli calls you my dear, darling, vixen. No pronouns or other gender specific language used. Some kisses and allusions of wanting more.

Enjoy!

“Deus Auri.”

You can nearly hear the crack of Zhongli’s neck as his gaze whips towards you, but you keep your gaze trained on your book as if you hadn’t seen its comical swivel in your peripherals.

“I’m sorry my dear, could you repeat that?” He said, though there was an edge to his tone.

“Deus Auri—God of Gold. What can you tell me about that name?” You said, index finger gliding down the edge of the book. You were no longer reading, but still kept your eyes trained on the pages to pretend like you weren’t vibrating with excitement at his reaction.

Zhongli was naturally very stoic, a well maintained facade to those who weren’t interested in looking deeper.

You had been plenty interested, taking one look at him and instantly knowing he was no ordinary man.

Now the better part of half a year into your blossoming relationship, he still hadn’t outright told you, but he’d grown comfortable.

You’d catch glimpses of his wrists, normally covered— deep onyx with veins of pure gold. Though this only happened in the safety of his home— there was a time he had to remove his gloves to help you in the kitchen, and his perfectly pale, human hands had distracted you the entire time.

The glamor he kept up in public slipped a bit when he was more at ease.

To the eye that was actually looking, zhongli really wasn’t subtle about who he was.

“Well, why don’t we start with where you heard such a name?” He asked.

“I was with the traveler last week, helping she and paimon with a commission in Fontaine.”

You can see the minuscule wince he gives out of the corner of your eye. Just a twitch of the brows as he blinks, so graceful, but you catch it because you’re looking for it.

“I overheard a conversation she had with a lovely gentleman over there, though I didn’t get to introduce myself. He mentioned the name when the traveler was asking him about Rex Lapis.”

You closed your book, finally turning to look at him, though you kept your gaze coyly through heavy lids, peaking demurely at him through your lashes.

“And you know, I thought that was very strange, her asking him about Rex lapis, when she could learn anything and everything about him from our resident expert.”

“The traveler has not visited liyue to see me in some time, darling. And I'm sure there are others who’ve studied the gods. I am not the only knowledgeable one in Teyvat.”

“I know, I know.” You chewed on your lip a bit for effect, looking puzzled. “So who is this Deus Auri? Is it perhaps another one of Morax’s many names?”

You looked at him expectantly, grinning as he grew more stiff in his seat beside you. A mere foot of space between you on the couch and he looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.

You wanted to, you have wanted to, but he so chivalrously insists upon taking it slow.

Hand holding in the harbour. Chaste kisses good night. You wanted so badly to break through his barriers but you knew he was holding back.

“You are…” he let a puff of air through his nose. “Correct in the knowledge that Morax was known to have many different names. Unfortunately that is all I can say on the matter.”

“So cryptic.” You squinted at him. He often shut you out when you pried like this, poking and prodding in places you know you shouldn’t be, but he was always kind and straightforward about it—so you usually dropped it as soon as he denied you.

“Do you think he had a favourite name that he went by?” You pushed a bit more, hoping to get him to give you just one more crumb before you played your cards. It was time, you were getting tired of hiding it.

He smiled thoughtfully, relaxing into the couch once more. “I’d like to think that he enjoyed the name Rex Lapis, the name given to him by his people. I’m sure it brought him a great sense of pride.”

You grinned, soaking in his expression and words. Knowing what you know— gods. He really was so cute sometimes.

You open up your book, stilling your grin to prepare for what was next.

“Really? I’d like to think Zhongli is his favourite. Retirement is a good look for him.”

You expected denial, perhaps his neck snapping back to you like it did when you first mentioned the ancient name.

What you didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor, a gloved hand supporting your neck instinctively as you and your book tumbled along the floor with the blur of rich oranges and browns that took you down.

When you finally settled, you were on your back with him looming over you, pining you to the ground.

“You little vixen. How long have you known?” His eyes were wild, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and breathless. Disheveled.

He looked more beautiful now than you’d ever seen him before.

“From the moment you opened your mouth.”

He kissed his teeth in a quick tsk, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I knew I would be in trouble with you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him back towards you.

“And yet you kept me around regardless.” You smiled, giving him a quick, teasing peck on the lips.

“How could I not? You have an inescapable magnetism that I am completely captured by. I’m afraid to say that you’re unraveling me even as we now speak.”

You grinned at him, face feeling just as flush as his.

“How much more unraveling do I need to do to get you to let down those walls you keep around you?”

“They were gone the moment I saw that you knew the truth, my dear, you should have said something much sooner.” He tilted his head with a soft grin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer.

“Kiss me then, you old blockhead.”

He gave a rumble in his chest that sounded very much like a growl, and it set your nerves on fire.

“Behave.” He said sternly.

“No promises,” you said as you kissed him.

#zhongli #zhongli fluff #rex lapis #genshin morax #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli fic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader fluff #fluff #genshin fluff

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yumecel · 19 days ago

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Ignorance is bliss 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 1.5k words

summary: you always felt something was off about the man you see on the train.

specifics: absolute creep neuvillette, OOC, modern AU

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tws: yandere, stalking, nonconsensual touching, molestation, s/a

Part 1 of Pervert Neuvillette.

[ReadMe 🔗] [1 📍]

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

You’ve always made a conscious effort to avoid sitting next to the man you always see on the commuter train. Something unsettling surrounds his presence.

Others don’t seem to think so. This is in spite of the fact that he sticks out like a sore thumb, briefcase on his lap, blemishless skin, flawlessly styled white hair, immaculately dressed in suits that change daily, but are always various shades of blue. Around him, the bustle of the general public- more restless, more disheveled- fades into the background. He looks so out of place to you, the kind of person that could definitely afford a taxi, yet you see him almost daily on your morning commute.

And you swear he stares at you.

You try to avoid looking at him.

He gets on one stop after you. Of course, there’s nothing odd about regularly seeing someone on public transportation. He does, however, seem to share the same carriage as you a lot. And perhaps that’s also by coincidence, the regularity of what end of the platform you end up standing on. He’s consistent. So are you. You can’t rationalise going out of your way to avoid the man.

You’d come to regret this.

One morning, the train is packed. Not the most abnormal thing in the world, but definitely a mundane inconvenience to grit your teeth through until you get out. Slipping your bag off your shoulder, you place it front of yourself and shuffle onto the train. You’re forced to stand near one of the doors, watching as the last few available seats are filled.

The next stop, you watch as people get off the train, more waiting outside to get on. Any seats that are freed are quickly filled, and you place yourself into a corner as people begin to step on. You turn yourself so your back faces the open doors, trying to protect your bag just in case. It’s a position that feels safe. Until it doesn’t.

Someone is pressing into your back. Unsurprising, considering how another gaggle of people just boarded. But this body behind you seems to be pressing up against you more deliberately, hot breath tickling your neck. There’s no way to reposition yourself, and you know you have to be understanding of strangers in times like these. All you do is clutch your bag in front of you a little tighter, reaching out to a handrail by your side so that you can steady yourself.

You hear your own name from directly behind you.

Your first thought is that you’re imagining things. It’s a male voice, deep and rich, and certainly not recognisable as anyone in your life. But when you ignore it, the presence behind you leans in closer, that same voice now speaking into your ear.

“Be a dear and let me put my briefcase between your feet.”

You freeze in place, willing yourself to pretend nothing is happening- but a hand begins to press at your waist, stroking upwards and downwards, applying more pressure at it starts to climb up to your chest-

You awkwardly shuffle your feet to accommodate the briefcase, stomach turning as you realise how your legs are now slightly spread and now both of his hands are free to do as they please. He manoeuvres the briefcase between your legs and drops it down, hand drifting dangerously close to your pussy. It’s on its side, meaning not even your knees can squeeze together. You’d never regretted wearing a skirt so much in your entire life. Panicking, you start twisting around- and when you can barely make out the blue suit of the man behind you, everything clicks.

“Good girl. I’m certain you’ve figured out who I am by now, yes? I can’t help but feel like we’ve known each other for years.”

The train begins to move.

One of his hands finds yours on the same handrail, engulfing it. His fingers are slender, but you can’t move your own hand away. His body feels as if it’s been locked to yours, now surrounding you entirely. The other hand moves to rest on your waist, thumb gently caressing back and forth over your shirt. It slowly slides downwards to your hip and you lurch forward- but there’s nowhere to go. Only the cold door of the carriage is in front you, locked shut as the train rattles along. Around you, oblivious bodies sway with it, looking down at phones or into the backs of others.

“I know so much about you, my love…” He says, hand briefly gliding to your rear. The train jostles. You feel him press into your back even more, chest bumping against you as he starts to speak again. It was bad enough that he knows your name- but horror fills your haywire brain as he starts listing off more names- reciting a list of your family members, friends, colleagues, social media handles. Your fingers tighten around the handrail and you shake, tears beginning to well up in your eyes out of fear.

Who is this man?

“Do you feel like you know me too, after all this time?”

You shake your head no, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the noise of the train.

“What a pity. You must be curious, though. I’ve noticed that you avoid looking in my direction.”

His hand glides down your thigh, thumb creeping under your tight skirt. You squeak as your lips tremble, staring out into the darkness beyond the train windows.

“When someone leaves a seat next to me, you’d rather stand. I wonder, what are you so afraid of?”

This. This. This.

With a lack of response from you, his hand continues to sweep across your lower body, desperate to feel every inch.

“You have such a lovely figure ,”He mutters, leaning deeper into you. You hear him inhale through his nose and are unable to suppress a shudder. “And such a lovely scent.”

You feel him bend his head down and lightly kiss your neck, causing you to jerk away from him- as far away as possible. Which is, much to your dismay, barely a few centimetres.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He whispers, retracting himself slightly. You’re still reeling from the kiss when his hand starts to go deeper, to somewhere more dangerous, slipping between your legs. You try to close your them but find it impossible to do fully with the briefcase obstructing your motion. The only thing left to do would be to try and bend forward, still exposing your most vulnerable area to him.

There is no escape.

You realise you’re out of luck when you feel his fingers slip over your panties, eager to explore. Your breath hitches and your face is on fire yet a deathly cold pervades every sensation. Worst of all, your body refuses to move. A single, wet tear rolls down your cheek. It isn’t long before one finger hooks underneath the fabric, stroking clumsily across your bare pussy, dragging itself upwards to your clit. Another finger joins it to rub, applying pressure in a way that would be admittedly enjoyable if not for the circumstances. Self loathing creeps up on you with a particularly pleasurable motion, a disgust at how skilfully the man behind you manipulates your body. You whimper pathetically, a sound that must’ve been audible to him as he lets out a small chuckle. It’s too lighthearted, too friendly, too boldly in contrast with the way his hand shamelessly molests you.

He suddenly stops, pausing for a moment with his fingers resting beneath your pussy. Now, only one finger circles your clit lazily, still sending sparks of unwanted pleasure into your core. “I believe it’s almost your stop. I’ll be in touch with you soon to finish what we started but… ah, where should I put this?”

His hand departs from your crotch, wiping carelessly against your thigh but soon returning with an object in tow. Something sharp causes you to squirm, surely it’s not anything dangerous, surely-

“Steady.” He murmurs.

He slips this object- now recognisable as a small card- into your panties, pressing directly up against your labia. With the card placed, he readjusts your underwear and skirt, still rubbing lightly at your clit over your panties until the train starts to slow. It creaks to a halt as he gives a demeaning pat to your rear, whispering his final message.

“Have a wonderful day, beloved.”

The briefcase is pulled out. He shuffles around. You hear him tell someone to “please, let this young lady exit” but you still avoid looking at him. You only look forward, eyes straight ahead as you try your hardest not to waddle with the foreign object inserted into your underwear. Making a beeline to the nearest public restroom, you breathe in and out, heaving. When you finally sit down on the toilet, you slowly peel off your panties with tears of shame dripping down your face.

Just when you thought you could take no further humiliation, you realise the card is stuck to the fabric due to being saturated with slick. You pry it off, trembling, and what you find is a business-card.

Mr Neuvillette. Epiclese Law Firm. Flipping it over, an address and a number you can barely read with your blurred, tear-filled eyes.

You drop the card to the ground, pressing your face into the palms of your hands and sobbing.

Bzz.

Must be your phone. You don’t care.

Bzz.

You end up rummaging around in your bag, seeing your phone already lit up with new notifications on the screen with every passing second. All are images from an unknown number. And with a rudimentary scroll, you realise all images are of you in various locations, and even various states of undress-

With bile rising in your throat, you turn off all notifications and power it off, staring into the blackness on the screen.

You’re calling in sick today.

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader

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bunny-rambles · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing okay!

I have a request if you don't mind.

I go so silent when im owerwhelmed. To the rate its so hard for me talk. I wont be able to join to the conversation even if i really want to. At those days, i just need some cuddles and affection.

What if reader just comes back to home and the character is just laying on the couch and reader lays on top of then without saying anything, just listening to their heartbeat? Can i request it with scara, albedo, kazuha, venti and whoever you want to add?

Have a good day💕

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I’m Here.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

characters; Scaramouche, Albedo, Venti, Kazuha, gn reader

cw/tw; talks of low mood and anxiety, hurt/comfort

word count; 500+ for each

notes; Hi, thank you so much for this request, sorry it took so long, it just takes forever to get my inspiration going nowadays. I hope you’re still here to enjoy this <3 it’s been stuck in wip hell but it’s finally here now, enjoy. (If some people want to, I’ll see if I can do a part 2 with some other characters. I’m thinking Wriothesley and Neuvillette. Let me know what you think.)

Please reblog if you like this!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Scaramouche

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Tired eyes move up towards the small crowd of people around you, focusing on the unimpressed pair of eyes burning their gaze into you. Your hand is idly tapping your pen against the empty piece of paper in front of you, but it quickly stops the second you feel the suffocating feeling in your chest from your entire table watching your every move.

“Sorry.” You apologise quietly, only to turn your head away from your classmate, who just scoffs at your haphazard reply and continues on with whatever they were talking about, their jargon falling on deaf ears.

If you were being honest, you could care less about the topic of the conversation.

Today was just one of those days where you felt that heavy feeling in your head, that light fluttering in your stomach. It felt like something was wrong, but nothing had happened to make you like this. Nothing in the typical sense, anyway. No event to trigger such a reaction, not even a snide whisper about you that caught your attention - nothing. You just felt, to sum it up in one word, overwhelmed.

Silently, you slipped out of your seat and snuck away when the conversation had moved on from your strange behaviour, the feeling all consuming at this point. When you were alone, there was only one thought in your mind: find him.

There were a lot of people who didn’t even bother to try to find out his name, only giving him a simple nickname due to his peculiar style. But not you. No, you were the odd one out, the only one in the entire Akademiya who sought out the company of the sharp-tongued vagrant. Perhaps you were the only one who could understand the true meaning of his biting remarks, the only one who knew just how understanding he could be.

He wasn’t in the lecture today, or anywhere in the Akademiya. That wasn’t too much of an issue. He had told you where you could find him if you really needed him (‘or whatever’, you recall him mumbling as his violet eyes shied away from yours, rose blooming so delicately on his porcelain cheeks).

So your feet moved on their own, stumbling along until you came to a quiet opening in the surrounding mountains of Sumeru. And there he was, perched on the edge of the hill that was overlooking the scenery of the entire city - a silent protector. He looked serene, calm in the gentle glow of the sunbeams shining down on the peak of the rocky formation. Maybe it would be best not to disturb him - you couldn’t even remember the last time he looked so at peace with the world.

You took a step back. A branch snapped noisily under your foot, causing the wanderers head to whip around to face you. His brief look of surprise is quickly replaced with his usual look of indifference.

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounded bored, but not aggravated by your presence. This was a good sign for him. But when you didn’t respond, the blank look on his face shifted as he raised an eyebrow at your lack of response. “Well? Spit it out. What do you want?” He prompted again, albeit a little harshly.

But no matter how much you wanted to tell him why you were there, no words would leave your mouth. It was like your lips were just sealed shut.

Instead, you just sat down beside him, your fingers dancing with one another in your lap. Your lips moved, shaping the words that wanted to come out, but no sound accompanied them. A heavy sigh left your lips, already feeling defeated with not being able to do one simple thing right today.

Luckily, you didn’t need to. With an exhale of breath that matched your own, you heard the rustling of fabric by your side as the puppet opened his arms for you.

“Come here.” He ordered in a soft voice, his eyes avoiding your own. When you didn’t respond immediately, obviously in complete surprise with what you were witnessing, he grumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to understand. Red began to bleed through his white skin, his teeth gritting together before he spoke again. “I don’t have all day. Now come here before I change my mind.”

Soon, his arms were around you, wrapping you up in his comforting embrace when you finally shuffled towards him. And here, nothing could hurt you, not while all you had to focus on was his fingers rubbing deep, comforting circles in your back. His chin rested atop of your head, mainly to hide the gentleness present in his features as he held you close to his chest. If only he had a heart, just so you could listen to the gentle pounding of it against his chest whenever he touched you. Instead, you heard a soft breeze right next to your ear, flowing in time with the pulsing light of his vision with each time his chest raised to take a breath.

There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only the sweet sounds of birds chirping, and that same gentle breeze that surrounded the both of you while you stayed in one another's arms.

Venti

The door swung open with a loud crash against the wall, a cheerful laugh accompanying the startling sound. “Oh, Windblume! Are you home?” The melodic voice of the bard sang out through his shared home of his partner.

Silence.

This did not deter him, however, as he hummed a quiet tune to himself as he set the freshly picked apples along large bottle of dandelion wine on the table, his hands going to his hips as he listened for the tell-tale sound of your soft footsteps or the sweet cadence of your voice. But once again, the young man was met with an eerie quietness.

“Huh. Guess they’re not home.” Viridescent eyes scan their surroundings before landing on a small note hidden away in the corner of the room, neatly placed on the very desk you had been working at so tirelessly these past few days.

‘At Windrise.’

Oh. So it was one of those days. No matter, he knew exactly what to do when you weren’t feeling your best. After quickly grabbing a couple of apples from the large bag he had carried home, he was already on his way to come find you.

And find you he did, sat alone underneath the towering tree with your head in your hands, looking devoid of any positive emotions. Even in the embrace of the winds of freedom, you still felt tied down from the thoughts swarming in your head. The gentle wind around you playfully tussled your hair, but it did very little to quell the storm raging inside of you, its thunder petrifying. There was a rustle above you in the leaves of the great tree, a few fluttering down to gently graze against your cheeks, like nature's soft kisses. And then a head emerged from them, a wide smile on the owner's face.

“Hello there!” Venti greeted with his signature wink, his twin tails swaying in the wind, his forehead exposed from hanging upside down from the branch. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand reaching out to carefully pull a few stray leaves out of his hair. He swung himself with his legs to press a kiss against your cheek, an airy laugh coming from him before he finally hopped down to take his place next to you. “I brought you something, but it might be a little bruised now.”

The bard giggled sheepishly before pulling out one of the apples he had grabbed earlier, throwing it up in the air for you to catch. Your hands cradled the ripe fruit, treating it as a precious treasure before you brought it up to your lips for a bite. A sigh left your lips from the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, the flavour almost sinful. But how could it be with the god who gave it to you right by your side? No, this was heavenly. Paradise was in your hand, and you couldn’t help but take another bite, showing off a thankful smile towards your partner who was already tucking into his own.

You expected him to speak, to fill the air with jokes or light hearted chatter. However, the only thing that made any noise right now was the petals of the nearby asters and the tweeting of songbirds. The archon beside you was quiet, waiting for you to speak first. And if you didn’t feel up to talking, that was okay too. He was going to be by your side, no matter how you felt. Much like the wind he commanded, he would always be with you, even on your bad days. No words were exchanged between the two of you. Instead, your head leaned closer to his until your cheek was pressed up against his shoulder, a deep sigh leaving your lips. But this time, it was filled with content instead of your previous anxiety. Venti’s hand that wasn’t holding his own apple gently cradled your head, his fingers lightly threading through your soft hair.

“My dear Windblume, you’ve worked so hard.” He finally spoke, his soft cheek resting lightly against the top of your head, like the softest of feathers.

“Don’t be afraid… I’m here.”

Kazuha

It had been a long day.

A fight with the endless stacks of paper at your desk had left you feeling drained, the walls of your bedroom feeling almost like a prison instead of a sanctuary for dreams and comfort. Your hands trembled as you re-read the few scarce sentences that you had managed to write down, only for them to curl into tight fists around the delicate piece of paper. What does it matter? It barely made sense anyway.

You needed out of this room. Shaky legs pulled your body out of your solitude, into the fresh air and tall grass that brushed against the back of your legs. You weren’t quite sure what led you to this meadow. Perhaps it was just an inexplicable pull you felt that was dragging you towards something more enchanting than the dull surroundings of a desk and barely functioning pen - something more warm, more comforting.

There, sitting in the middle of this peaceful field of flowers, he sat.

Eyes closed, with a serene smile painted on his gentle face, his silvery wisps of hair blowing softly in the winds - much like the swaying stalks of emerald around him. And once those eyes fluttered open to reveal the rubies underneath, you could feel the very air in your throat catch. That smile you admired only widened when his gaze set on you.

“Fancy seeing you here. Care to join me?” Kazuha spoke, his bandaged hand extended towards your own. You felt guilty intruding on such a peaceful moment like this, but when he was looking at you like that, inviting you to spend time with him… Well, how could you possibly refuse? Your hand connected with his own, a gentle tug leading to you seating yourself next to him. Instead of letting go of your hand, or letting his touch linger on your skin for a moment, he interlocked his fingers with your own. His side brushed against your own, your smile slowly but surely mirroring his own curled lips. Silence curled its invisible arms around the two of you, wrapping you up in comforting tranquillity, only found with the closest of companions.

A soft exhale left the man beside you, his body leaning backwards to lay against the ground, his gaze fixated on the clouds above.

“Here.” He whispers, patting the space underneath you to encourage you to join him. “Lay with me. Let your troubles float away with the drifting clouds.”

Carefully, you also laid back, with your hand still intertwined with his own and your other one resting on top of your stomach.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself under his arm, nestled up against his side with your cheek pressing up gently against his chest. His fingers gently began to run through your hair, his movements idle, his soul at peace - as well as yours.

“You don’t have to talk about what is troubling you, dove. But if you ever need to talk to me, or perhaps, if you just want me to be with you - then you need only ask.” The wandering prince spoke, his soothing movements unchanging. “Or just come find me if you feel like you can’t. Your presence is never a bother.” He chuckles softly, holding you closer to his side, his head leaning against your own.

“I promise… You’ll never have to go through anything alone, as long as I’m by your side.”

Albedo

The gentle clinking of glass echoes around the room as a solitary alchemist works in silence. Concentration is etched onto his porcelain face, his lips drawn in a straight line as his gaze fixates on the bubbling liquid inside the flask he was holding in a gentle grasp. He raises an eyebrow, however, when a figure starts to form in the reflection. In the distorted mirroring of the glass, he could make out a pair of saddened eyes staring longingly at him, yet silence persisted in the room. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating - hours alone with various fumes and chemicals did have those side effects, after all. When he concluded he was in fact not deluding himself, he lowered the container carefully and turned around to face the one who had been waiting patiently behind him to finish analysing the results of his experiments.

This was a sight he wasn’t unfamiliar with. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you look so downcast. But rarely did you ever seek him out during these moods of yours, especially while he was working. This was… Unusual. It must’ve been quite serious.

He waited for you to speak, to tell him whatever was on your mind, but no words came. Instead, your eyes refused to meet his own, almost as if you were guilty for disturbing him or bothering him with your presence. But to Albedo, you could never be a bother - your very existence filled him with elation, even if he seldom expressed that notion towards you with words. At least his actions told you otherwise.

“Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired carefully, making sure not to push you too much. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, a few stutters of some quiet words he couldn’t quite make out. He glanced back to his makeshift workshop for a moment before his cerulean eyes locked with your own glassy ones. Deft fingers moved towards the bunsen burner, switching the contraption off before they moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes locked once more. He hummed inquisitively, wondering why you looked so upset. But, no matter. If you were here, surely he could be of some use, even if you were unwilling to share what was troubling you.

“Perhaps it’s time for a break.” The blonde declared thoughtfully before intertwining his fingers with your own, guiding you out of the laboratory and into a more peaceful area of the Favonius headquarters. Once inside, he led you over to a large couch, gesturing for you to sit down before he joined you. He cleared his throat awkwardly while opening his arms to you. “I’ve heard that physical contact and affection relieves stress.” He stated, his eyes flitting away from you for a few fleeting seconds. “Would you perhaps like a hug?”

Hesitantly, he shifted closer when he noticed you were doing the same before taking you into his arms and cradling you to his chest. A shuddering breath left your lips as the warmth you had craved all day seeped through your skin, deep into your bones.

“Is… This okay?” The alchemist asks quietly, unsure. You nod against his chest, your own arms circling around his middle. His hold around you tightens. A gentle hand rests on top of your head, his other on your lower back, fingers idly tracing patterns against your back. The motion is calculated, an automatic action, as if he knew exactly what to do to soothe your worries just with his touch alone.

“I’m glad you found me and I’m glad I could help. Please, my darling, stay in my arms until you feel better.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask about his work, he continues, in a soft tone only reserved for you and his little sister. “No experiment or variable compares to the feeling of holding you like this. So please, allow me to indulge myself.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #barbatos x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #Genshin impact x gn reader

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maopll · 1 year ago

Note

omg hi I love ur work this is so exciting

honestly I’d be happy with anything you made so please just hcs for all your faves!! thank you!

shall I compare thee to a summer's day ?

#genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: making my come back again after 2 months. wrote this in class pls take it. don't even know if this is actually a headcanon or not mate.

⌗:, warning: childe's real name, mention of endearments in many.

⌗:, pairings: childe, kaeya,zhongli, diluc, ayato, neuvillette, wriothesley, beidou w/ gn!reader (separately)

CHILDE

He works day and night just to be by your side when you go to sleep. He can't let you sleep alone on that cold bed. He comes everyday and falls asleep while hugging your form. All the regrets and bloodlust now gone as he focuses on your sleeping peaceful form. He grows sentimental by the night and always worries about you 'how will you able to stay safe when I'm not here ?'. He is snapped back to reality when you softly speak in a low voice "ajax? you're here" and smile while turning towards him. Even in the darkest of nights your smiles brings him the brightest of dawns. He hugs you tightly to his chest and kisses your forehead. This soft and sweet side of childe is what only you can see.

KAEYA

Being a cavalry captain means that he is quite efficient in the ways of welding swords and riding horses. Although they don't quite apply at present but he has taken you out on horse ridings for more than once. Riding through the vast forests and along with the wind. As the evening fell, you two rested under a tree in Starsnatch Cliff while watching the sun set in each others arms. He held you close to him as he softly kissed you. Oh, how beautiful you looked as the suns rays fell on you. He could cherish this moment forever...however fleeting moments of happiness are best savoured when they are short-lived as they would continue to stay engraved in his minds for years to come...for centuries to last.

ZHONGLI

Hands intertwined with his big ones as you two strided along the coast of the sea. It was twilight, almost dusk. The cool breeze of the sea, accompanied by the lulling of the waves, all seemed so surreal. You were smiling brightly, and Zhongli felt that you looked ethereal. For all the years he's lived, he's never felt so loved and so lucky to have someone by his side. The lovesick moment between you and your lover was sealed by a kiss from Zhongli. Oh, how can you look so beautiful?

DILUC

Maids hear the sound of the gramophone from your and Diluc's shared room, but they just brushed it off thinking that it is you listening to the old mondstadt classics and waltz. Little do they know that the songs are on because two lovers are dancing to it. A cherished pastime of his as he softly holds you close to him. Steps careful and synchronized. The sound of footsteps, the symphony from the gramophone, and the glowing orange embers of the sun illunitaing the room through lace curtains. A dreamlike landscape. He looked at you with lovesick eyes, the same eyes he looked at you with when he first proposed to you. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the moment with you.

AYATO

Atop the cliff of Amakane Island, you and ayato were writing your wishes on the lantern, which would then float up to the skies to receive the blessings of the archon...as per the story goes. The lanterns glow illuminated your faces as Ayato carefully admired your face. 'you look so radiant tonight love' he thought to himself and then chuckling because of how helplessly he is in love with you. "Love I'm done writing should we let it go now?" you said excitedly and he humed in approval. The lantern was then let go off and it found its place among the blanket of stars in the night sky. Your lover held you close to him as he kissed you on the forehead, taking in the ethereal quietness and serenity of the moment

NEUVILLETTE

On the soft green grass, the melusines played as you carefully groomed Neuvillette's long hair. You braided it and added a few freshly picked rainbow roses and lumidouce bells to his hair. "Are the flowers necessary dear?" "nope! you look absolutely gorgeous love, don't take them off". He was about to retort until the melusines also agreed that he looked pretty with the flowers. He hesitantly agreed but if it means that it will put a smile on your face he will gladly do so. Putting the flower crown on top of your head that one of the melusines had made before, he held you close to him. He never felt so peaceful in all of his lifetime. It was a blessing to spend the day with his beloved and also with the melusines he adores so much. A smile broke out in his face as you all continued with your day. It seems that the sun will shine for quite a while today.

WRIOTHESLEY

Brewing tea with you always had such a wholesome domestic vibe to it. You boiled the water as he selected his and yours' favourite tea. Being his lover made you knowledgeable about all the types and kinds of tea and the techniques required to brew them. "Honey, you can put in the tea now. I'll go grab the cups." he added the required amount and waited for it to be complete. He listened intently to the song you were humming...what was the name again? oh! it was one of fontaine's classics. After it was done, you two enjoyed the tea in silence. It was comforting since most of the days inside the Fortress of Meropide is spent is hustle and bustle and matters related to the maintenance and whatnot. Moments like these were sparse, but he thoroughly enjoyed the little time he spent with you.

BEIDOU

Once the crux fleets arrives at the harbour, the first place Beidou takes you to is Wangmin restaurant or to any other local food stalls there are in the liyue harbour. From the spiciest of dry braised fish or stew to sweet and savoury rice puddings or even the fanciest of rice wines. All of them in one night. "Haha! I hope you are enjoying today, love days like these might come after a long time! maybe even months!" and she proceeded to chug down her entire bottle of wine. "thanks for this day beidou, I love you" you said as you drank your own wine. It was a full moon night and the sky was brighter than on any other day. What an eventful day it was with the captain of the Crux fleet!

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lillaluna · 11 months ago

Text

how I met my cat

Pairing: Neuvillette, Ayato, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Pantalone, Itto x f!Reader

AYATO

Walking down one of Inazuma's streets, which was being lit up by the midday sun, Ayato spotted what he would say after "that misunderstanding" sitting on the edge of a wooden bridge, looking wistfully at the carp that were splashing in the clear water. The kitten looked like the very personification of sunshine. His red hair was sticking out in different directions, and his face was as silly as it was cute.

The guy froze for a while, following his gaze to the picture in the water, which the red kitten was studying with such care. The noise behind him attracted a small animal, but remarkably, he did not rush to run away, he just looked at Ayato's tall figure with his big green eyes, the size of a tea saucer. The poor kitten was so overzealous with raising his red head, due to the tall stature of a representative of the Kamisato clan, that he fell funny, turning a somersault, which made him look even more disheveled.

"How clumsy you are," Ayato said, and after taking one last look at the animal, he went about his business.

What was his surprise when he noticed a red-haired, disheveled spy who followed him from one planned place to another, and eventually escorted him to the Kamisato estate.

That day, Ayato ordered to feed his personal guest, as a reward for his perseverance and endurance, because he had come a really long way with his tiny paws. And then a terrible thing happened… Ayaka saw the kitten.

Ayato swears he has no affection for the silly ginger cat, but Toma, who works late into the night, often sees Yashiro, the head of the commission, allow the animal to nestle in his lap and soothe it with his purr.

PANTALONE

Pantalone left the restaurant, and the first thing that attracted him, even across the street, was a sprawled black spot that contrasted with the snow-covered street. While the man was putting on gloves, he saw how on the well-fed body of the "spot", which turned out to be a cat, black fur was waving from gusts of wind, but he stubbornly and motionlessly lay. At some point, Pantalone allowed the idea that the animal was frozen, but he was surprised enough when he saw a sluggish movement and a prolonged "meow" when a worried young girl came out of the shop in front of the cat and put a thick and fresh sausage in front of him. She cooed while squatting next to him, stroking his soft fur and saying how poor and unhappy he was. Pantalone chuckled and went home.

There might not have been anything remarkable in this story, but Regrator noticed the cat several more times, each time he left the restaurant, the animal lay motionless near the bench, waiting for his saviour.

"Sly," Pantalone said to himself and headed across the street.

Sitting down in front of the animal, the man smiled, because from this distance you could see thick, beautiful black fur, and the fact that the cat was very well-fed.

"Very clever," said the man again, and was about to leave when the cat opened his green eyes. Perhaps sensing that he was not going to get a handout from Pantalone, he did not meow as he usually did, but sat up gracefully and blinked a few times.

No matter how funny it sounded, Pantalone invited the cat to go with him, and no matter how funny it sounded, the cat agreed and gently trotted through the snow after his recognized master.

Despite the fact that the cat has been voluntarily domesticated and now needs nothing, he likes to sneak into the kitchen and act out scenes of "hungry" fainting in front of the cooks, who are happy to feed the sly cat.

The staff of the Pantalone estate often loses a cat and they go crazy looking for it, thinking that they have missed the beloved pet of one of the Harbingers, while the animal sleeps on its owner's clothes merging with it. As soon as Pantalone calls his pet by name, he fluffs his tail and goes to greet him or keep him company, purring peacefully during long working nights.

ITTO

The eccentric head of the Arataki gang was a second away from deciding to jump into the arms of Kuki Shinobu, who was walking next to him, when a small pack of yard dogs rushed at him from the alley, but he froze in surprise when he realized that they were dispersed … by a cat. A white, somewhat skinny cat with a torn right ear and piercing orange eyes. He drove the dogs away with unshakable confidence, accompanying all this with a shrill "meow".

"He's just a demon in cat form," Itto exclaimed mischievously, watching the cat disappear around the bend.

It took several days and all the skill of the Arataka gang to find the white cat, which, unfortunately for the members of the group, Itto was delighted with.

The found animal and the "drama lover" Arataki Itto quickly found a common language and stuck to each other. The cat loves to relax, like a fluffy collar, on the shoulders of its recognized owner, in some unthinkable way, It taught him to hunt beetles and look for only the best specimens for fighting.

Despite the fact that Kuki was skeptical about the appearance of the cat, even she relented when the sneaky cat began to bring them small goodies from nowhere. That's how he became a full member of the Arataka gang.

DOTTORE

Dottore had to go to Sumeru himself, in order to purchase components sold only there for his experiments. And it was there, in the market, that the man saw a white cat holding a mouse by the tail with a fluffy paw. Dottore froze and watched with interest what would happen next. In an instant, the cat easily lets the mouse go and desperately watches its well-aimed run.

"This is a failure," the man said to himself, already about to look away from the snow-white cat, as he looked at him, as if he had heard a remark. Multicolored eyes, one yellow and the other green, looked accusingly at the man, and with light leaps the graceful animal began to chase the mouse, which had just found hope of salvation.

Waving his fluffy tail, the cat was rapidly approaching the small rodent, playing with him in a feline version of hide-and-seek. Observation and dexterity do not give the poor mouse a chance. On the move again, the cat instantly grabs the mouse with its paws, which are glistening with snow-white fur.

This little game moment is full of energy and grace, and is a reflection of the sincere joy and enjoyment that the cat gets from his favorite mouse game. And it was after that that Dottore decided that the snow-white cat from the Sumeru market belonged to him.

ZHONGLI

Morax sat in one of the gazebos near Li Yue Harbour. The man was drinking fragrant tea in silence, watching the ships that were going on a long journey. Preferring to spend time in peace and quiet, Zhongli often chose this particular gazebo, on top of a fairly high mountain. Accustomed that no one would disturb him here, the man was extremely surprised to notice a majestic fluffy red cat lying on a smooth stone ledge enjoying the rays of the sun. His bright coat shone against the background of the surrounding green cover of nature. The cat stretched out relaxed, enjoying the pleasant peace.

It would seem that over the years of his life, Morax had seen many cats, but there was something subtly regal about it. Birds were flying around the cat, singing their songs. They felt safe next to this powerful, compared to them, animal, which never harmed harmless creatures. It seemed that the mice and birds knew that this cat was not just a predator, but also a patron, calmly allowing them to be in his vicinity.

However, one little mouse decides to test the limits of the exclusivity of its security. Sneaking up unnoticed, she approached the cat and, trying her luck, tries to bite him. But it was courage, for which the little girl paid dearly.

The cat, suddenly feeling the mouse's teeth on its fur, reacts reflexively to the attack. He instantly gets to his feet and easily deals with the rodent, leaving impressive evidence of his power in front of the others.

Raising his head in proud relief and dignity, the cat turned his gaze to Zhongli.

"You can't make concessions when there is a contract. If the contract is not followed, it will be violated," the man said and motioned for the animal to sit closer to him.

NEUVILLETTE

The judge already believed that he had committed the most reckless act in his entire life when he succumbed to Furina's persuasions to take a kitten from the shelter so that he would keep him company and he would not be so lonely.

Neuvillette often watched as a gray ball of fur, trying to catch its tail, bites it, from which it then meows plaintively, as it crashes into furniture from a running start, as it clumsily falls from all surfaces that it can reach. Sometimes it seemed to him that he had sheltered a kitten with a maximum of one brain cell. This playful prankster chases after him and clings to his clothes. He attacks Neuvillette from around the corner, hisses at his shadow and hiccups funny.

"You vaguely remind me of someone," states Neuvillette, taking the kitten in his arms to go with him to his office, because it seems to him that he does not want him to leave.

This is not the first time that Neuvillette's new pet stays with him at work, and all employees adore and gladly pamper this clumsy, cheerful and active ball of fur.

One day, coming home after a brutal trial, when it was raining heavily outside, Neuvillette found a picture that made his heart skip a beat. Somehow, the cat got stuck in a paper bag, and mewing piteously tried to run to him right in such a standing position. The rain has gradually subsided, and Fontaine's relentless judge can't help but smile when he has to tear open the package to free the kitten.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #dottore #il dottore #zhongli x reader #pantalone x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette #zhongli #pantalone #arataki itto #itto x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader

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catwhispers0 · 11 months ago

Text

✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧

Featuring -

Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley

gn reader - pronouns: you/your

Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol

minors shoo shoo as always

✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”

finally, its my time to shine

“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”

“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”

“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”

if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library.

“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”

“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”

that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you.

so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).

but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”

Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused.

“i have a name, did you really forget it?”

well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one.

maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name.

“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”

he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!!

by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb.

now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?

✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧

“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”

he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned.

“...are you ok nari?”

“no.”

“...”

after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence.

he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.

“... do you wanna hear another one?”

*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”

his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign.

you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet.

“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”

“...”

“...” “get out.”

“...ok”

✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧

“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”

The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place.

so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter.

“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”

“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.”

with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not.

you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation.

he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”

a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air.

why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?

-though, he does appreciate a challenge.

sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel.

“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”

“something?”

what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him.

gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”

at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure.

it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow.

he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…?

was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?

could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?!

by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen.

‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧

“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”

*silence*

“scara?”

“no.”

“what?”

“no, you are not doing this.”

aaaand he walks away…

as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days.

still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.

anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation.

how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that?

with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy.

maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine.

so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared.

hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line.

its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things.

he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see.

so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy.

go reassure him, he needs it.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧

“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”

Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.

“why of course, my love.”

okay

okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out.

his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration.

his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips.

they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?

and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment.

oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧

“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “

he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork.

“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”

your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too!

“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!”

he looks up finally.

“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”

how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would.

“...so, what else did i steal?”

the audacity.

“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”

and you walk away, off to check where you put your food.

some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…

---------

if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year ago

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Special Delivery - Wriothesley

Author Notes: It has been a journey in learning how to spell this man's name. This fic honestly just sort of happened. I didn't have a song I listened to while I wrote it and didn't really exactly have an idea either, outside of the fact that I've always though guys should get flowers just like girls. After all, flowers are pretty. I leave it up to you to decide what sort of flower was gifted here though. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Fluff/ Flirtation/ Teasing

Word Count: 1308

Just as it was with other nations, there were many, many different jobs and positions that one could hold in Fontaine.

But yours was very unique.

It wasn’t that you were anything nearly so grandiose as the receptionist to the revered Iudex or the widely-beloved Archon. And you also didn’t work for the Spina de Rosula or The Steambird.

No. You didn’t hold a position quite that illustrious. Instead, you were a delivery person.

You delivered ingredients, bandages, medicine, and, yes, even teas to the infamous Fortress of Meropide. After all, while such commodities were the norm of the Overworld, finding the same goods at the bottom of the sea was hardly possible. So you delivered them. Sometimes making two to three runs between the sunny upper side of Fontaine and the dark prison hidden in the depths.

Your delivery runs were always waited for with bated breath by the people within the massive prison complex. Especially when the denizens of the depths knew you were going to be bringing special commodities, such as books for Sigewinne sent from Monsieur Neuvillette himself.

You strolled through the metal hallways with purpose as you went to make your final delivery for the day, and no one looked twice as you marched right up to the warden’s office and went in with barely even a pause.

Most inmates had no clue as to what you might be delivering to the duke who guarded these halls. You almost always had to make a stop at his office, though, and most preferred not to think too hard about what might be in the box you were carrying.

But, despite their fears, you held nothing quite so terrifying as what they might suspect. In fact, the box you held against your hip always held the exact same thing. Namely, tea.

To be fair, he usually requested an assortment of varying teas, but the regularity of his orders was somewhat concerning, and it might be worth mentioning to Sigewinne as to whether excessive consumption of tea could be detrimental to his health.

You walked up the steps silently as you entered the well-appointed office that you were now quite used to. Though you did have to wonder where the man in question hid his doubtlessly impressive tea stash since all the shelves of his bookcases were filled with books.

“There you are,” Wriothesley’s pale eyes immediately lifted from where he’d been looking at a stack of papers so that he was looking up to where you’d appeared at the top of the staircase as he stood from behind his desk. Almost like he’d been waiting for you. Or rather, more than likely, his beloved tea.

He walked around the desk with a slight smile as he met you halfway and accepted the box from your arm before immediately sitting it down so that he might peer inside at its contents. And you waited patiently as his gaze scanned container after container of fine tea and tea blends, nodding approvingly at certain intervals before he at last looked your way once more, “Perfect as always.”

There was a subtly teasing lilt to his voice that had you smiling before you shifted and revealed what you’d been hiding behind your back with that hand that had not been occupied by tea.

“Special delivery,” You announced cheerily as Wriothesley’s gaze darted between the potted plant in your hand and you. His expression shifting amusingly from curiosity to confusion.

After a brief moment of silence, he sighed, almost as if surrendering, “Y/n, you’re gonna have to help me here. I’m not the most well-versed in the language of flowers, but is this some form of hate mail from the House of Hearth or something?”

You rolled your eyes before handing the fully bloomed flower to him, “No, Sigewinne’s been telling me about how you’ve been staying holed up in your office, and you’ve mentioned that you rarely get to see flowers since you’re usually stuck down here in the fortress. I bought this for you to try and brighten the place up,” You gestured widely to the room as you finished, still smiling at the man who continued to stare at you.

“So you bought this for me?” He clarified with raised eyebrows, causing you to nod in amusement before you saw the glimmer that entered his eyes at your wordless response. A small, childish part of you whispered that you never should’ve entertained the thought of buying him a gift, but you ignored such thoughts.

Instead, you focused on the man in front of you as you braced for whatever it was he was going to say next.

“Well, something coming as a gift from you certainly is a ‘special delivery,’ but I must say, you’ve done what most can’t. You’ve surprised me, Y/n.” He paused, eyeing you closely, before pressing a hand to his chest with a grin slipping onto his face, “I never expected you to try and woo me.”

Somehow, you weren’t even surprised by his words as you leaned relaxedly against his desk and sat the gift down, causing the flower to bob lightly. “And what makes you think that this is me wooing you?”

He leaned forward, that grin still on his face as he spoke once more, “Isn’t that what gifts of flowers usually mean?”

Unperturbed by his teasing, you tilted your head, “Weren’t you the one who just implied that this plant was flower-coded hate mail to start with? And flowers are common get-well-soon gifts anyway; they don’t necessarily have anything to do with romance or wooing.”

“But I’m not sick,” He was quick to point out his apparently good health almost immediately. Straightening with an almost smug grin that had you shaking your head slightly.

You smiled at him innocently, though, automatically reminding him of Siegwinne’s concerns regarding his habit of holing himself up in his office, “But Sigewinne is worried.”

He mimicked your motions, propping against the desk and half-caging you in with his body but still leaving your escape open, “Is this why you've been delivering such especially high-quality teas?”

You grinned slightly, despite yourself, at the man before you gestured lightly to the now abandoned box that sat on his desk next to him, “That’s the brand you always request, Lord Duke.”

His title slipped off your tongue easily, and you stared at each other silently. Wearing matching grins and similarly bright eyes as you each waited for the other one to make the next move.

After a moment, though, he shrugged and leaned back. Seemingly giving up even though that tell-tale glimmer still hadn’t left his eyes, “If you say so. I still find it suspicious, though.”

You held out his receipt for the delivery, watching as he took and signed it obediently before handing it back over. You accepted the slip of paper, having to actually tug it out of his hand as his gaze held yours with that persistently amused smile. But this was becoming a steadily more common set of interactions with you. A careful dance of teasing that he almost always slipped some form of flirtation into.

You were still smiling as you finally managed to free the paper from his grasp without it tearing and without having to grasp it with both hands and yank it out of his hand, “Duly noted.”

He snorted slightly at your words but didn’t respond, and with that you were on your way. Not stopping until you were outside of his office and being greeted by Sigewinne.

“Did he like the flower?” The Melusine’s eyes were wide with giddy curiosity, and you paused.

A smile flickered across your face as thought back to Wriotheseley’s amused grin, teasing tone, and glimmering eyes before you nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with yourself, “You know, I believe he did.”

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primoredial-jade · 1 year ago

Text

to you, 500 years from now.

" i wonder if you remember me as i was. sometimes, i think of those days. do you? " —dishonored

prompt: he wishes to see you again one day, in a world that is kinder for a soul as beautiful as yours.

pairing: neuvillette x gn!reader

cw: reincarnation alternate universe, heavy themes and depictions of death, neuvillette story quest spoilers, fontaine archon quest spoilers, a light-hearted scene sprinkled in, reader is an oceanid in their past life, reader is a geoscientist in their current life

as a part of @seraphiism's 2023 writing event 🤍 merry christmas!

500 years ago.

seldom did visitors grace the presence of the hydro dragon.

adorned with shimmering scales that reflected the hues of the deepest ocean, piercing violet eyes that sparkled like the shiniest amethysts, and hailed as one of the strongest sovereigns of the world– his reputation preceded him. thus, the hydro dragon chose to live in seclusion in the salacia plains.

time worked differently for a being such as him. in a momentary lapse, the hydro dragon had shut his eyes for what he thought was a brief respite, only to be roused by the gentle murmur of bubbling water. as his eyes fluttered open, he remained unaware that several years had slipped away during his tranquil slumber.

with seemingly no fear at being in the presence of the hydro dragon, a beautiful oceanid floated before him, blowing bubbles in his direction. twirling around him, the oceanid radiated a warmth that the hydro dragon could not resist. drawn by the mesmerizing glow of his scales, the oceanid came closer.

the hydro dragon sat up in his full form, extending his wings and towering over the oceanid, gauging its reaction. he knew he was terrifying like this. the oceanid did not flee in fear, rather, gazed up at him in amazement and wonder.

"what is your name?" the hydro dragon asks.

you offer it to him, easily.

days turned into nights into years as the hydro dragon finally had someone to call his companion. you followed him everywhere he went, offering him countless condessence crystals on your trips, "because it resembles your eyes."

with time, the hydro dragon had discovered a love that transcended ordinary within you.

fate, as cruel as it could be, had other plans. the heavenly principles had descended to wage war against the seven sovereigns. the hydro dragon urged you to stay away, to not get involved. yet, you refused, promising that you would never leave his side.

the heavenly principles, having sensed the unconventional bond between the hydro dragon and his oceanid, instantly killed you before the hydro dragon could even think to intervene. dying in his hands, you apologized.

"hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry," you murmur, placing one last condessence crystal in his palm.

filled with agony and rage, the hydro dragon unleashed his elemental fury upon the heavenly principles.

still, it wasn't enough. he couldn't save you, he couldn't avenge you, and now, he was to also perish by the hands of fate.

as he lay dying with the condessence crystal in his hand, he wishes to see you again one day. in a world that is kinder, and more forgiving for a soul as beautiful as yours.

500 years later.

the stars are keeping you up tonight.

ever since furina had given up her position as the hydro archon and the prophecy was deemed to be untrue, you had felt a shift within yourself that you could not really explain. when you had been enveloped by the water of the primordial sea, you had felt... at home. tranquil, even.

fontaine's winter festivities were in full swing, and the city's lights twinkle slow as children zip past you through the streets. red and green decorations are adorned on every wall and lamp post. you raise a hand to catch a delicate snowflake– rarely did snow ever reach fontaine, but it was a welcomed change for the season.

you shiver, pulling your coat closer to your neck. it was probably reckless to be out this late when the night was this chilly, but you just couldn't shake the feeling of having to be out here. something was pulling you here, but you didn't know what.

"good evening," a voice calls your name and you startle, hand over your heart. you turn to meet piercing violet eyes and an easygoing smile, one that you meet sheepishly.

"good evening, monsieur neuvillette," you answer, inadvertently straightening your posture.

"i thought it was you i saw..." neuvillette trails off, clearing his throat. he gestures up to the palais mermonia, quite a ways away. you tilt your head in bewilderment.

"you could see me from there?"

"well, not at first," he answers, lightly tapping his cane on the floor. "you could say it was instinct, perhaps. i cannot find the words to really explain it, but it had to be you."

you would be lying if you said that one of the reasons as to why you had felt so on edge since the flooding didn't have anything to do with neuvillette.

as a geoscientist investigator for the marechaussee phantom, most of your interactions in the past had been strictly professional in solving cases and exonerating or indicting those on stand. after the failed prophecy, neuvillette had begun to seek you out for casual conversation. of course, you welcomed it. you were easily drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

something about the way he had interacted with you since then with a longing gaze in his eyes had you feeling as if he knew something that you didn't.

it did not do any favors to your heart. he was a gorgeous man with a kind and respectful personality to boot.

you shouldn't get this excited about him finding you, but your blood thumping in your ears betrays you.

"ah- i see... it's funny you say that, because, well- likewise," you manage to say, flustered and feeling the urge to bolt on the spot.

neuvillette smiles at you, nodding toward the brightly lit street. "would you take a walk with me?"

speechless, you nod. what would fontaine think seeing you strolling around town with neuvillette this late at night, shoulders so close?

"there are a few stands around with festive goods and the likes. there's actually a..." you pause, a sudden memory making you laugh, "a water taste-testing booth made by your fanclub. would you want to check it out?"

neuvillette's eyebrows raise in amusement. "it would be my pleasure. i had not even been aware i harbored a fanclub."

you absentmindedly lean closer to his side, "well, you are quite popular among fontainians, monsieur neuvillette. many of them admire you for everything you have done for fontaine."

"and what about you?" his eyes meet yours expectantly.

you're caught off guard by his teasing. ears burning, you focus your attention on the path. "well, of course, i do too," you mumble. you can't see it, but he smiles.

a brightly lit booth in blue finally comes into view. its banner reads, "water around the world!" with a small, cute drawing of neuvillette's face in the corner.

"surely that's breaking a law in copyright infringement?" you joke.

"the oratrice would surely find them guilty," he nods, and you cannot suppress your laugh.

"hello, and welcome to- monsieur neuvillette?!" the teenager running the stand jumps out of her seat at the sight. she sputters, waving her hands around frantically. "it- it's so nice to see you, monsieur! are you interested in trying out some of the water we've collected?" her outburst spawns members of neuvillette's fanclub whispering excitedly behind her, to your amusement.

"i would be delighted to, along with my companion, if you would be so kind." he gestures to you, and it is only now that the fanclub seems to notice you. a few of them audibly gasp, and you already feel the dread of having your name front and center on the steambird come tomorrow morning. "monsieur neuvillette and the esteemed geoscientist: on a late-night excursion?"

they're quick to place multiple cups of water in front of you. respectively labeled cider lake, samudra coast, dadaupa gorge, sal terrae, and the suigetsu pool. neuvillette takes the one from cider lake, swirling it, and taking a leisurely sip not unlike wine. he hums, encouraging you to take your sip as well.

as you go down the line, truthfully you cannot tell much difference between them all. but, your heart warms seeing neuvillette take this very seriously, to the delight of his fanclub.

"did you like them?" you ask as you both depart from the booth, truly curious.

neuvillette nods, a smile on his face. "they all tasted quite fresh."

you cannot repress your own grin at his honesty. "i'm glad, monsieur neuvillette."

as the snow gets heavier and the night turns darker, booths begin to shut their lights down with people scurrying back to their abodes. you get the occasional double take at being with the chief justice, of course.

you watch neuvillette as he slows to a stop to stare up into the sky. delicate snowflakes fall into his long hair and eyelashes, and yet he seems completely unbothered by the cold. he's beautiful.

you heart suddenly aches in a way that feels like the breath has totally escaped you. the feeling is so unknown that you wonder if this moment is even real at all.

you'd had nightmares about it that you didn't dare tell a soul, of how you had died once. it was impossible- unfathomable.

but if it was, then how could you vividly remember in your last moments the feeling of being held by warm, protective hands?

neuvillette is already looking at you when you come to, like he knows.

"maybe we should call it a night." your voice is thinned.

neuvillette takes a step closer. "may i?"

you can only nod, breath hitching. he's standing closer than how he usually allows himself to be. you move, but one of his hands lift to gently cup your cheeks.

instantly, tears begin to well up in your eyes. his touch feels so familiar. "i'm sorry," you whisper.

with his free hand, neuvillette unclips the brooch at his neck and places it in your hand. seeing it up this close, your eyes widen.

"this is a condessence crystal."

neuvillette's eyes meet your own. he closes both of your hands around the crystal, and you see white.

"what is your name?"

"it resembles your eyes."

"i love you."

"i won't ever leave your side."

"don't leave me by myself."

"hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry."

your knees suddenly grow weak, but neuvillette is quick to catch you.

your mind is running at a thousand miles a minute, swirling with questions that repeat themselves in your head, what is wrong with you, what is wrong with him, what is wrong with fate.

"so it is real," he finally says, eyes so solemn yet relieved. his words, resolute and cutting, make you still.

"i– what is?"

"us."

you didn't realize that you needed to hear it from him to finally understand. his eyes are darting across your face, trying to get a read on your expression.

"ever since i was given my authority back on the day of the prophecy, i remembered everything of our past life together, traversing across the seas of the teyvat," he explains, thumbing a stray tear that escaped your eye.

“for a long time, i wondered why i had this when i was reborn into this form,” he squeezes your hand with the condessence crystal, “and then it all made sense.”

"i remember now too," you say, "neuvillette, i remember."

this world is much kinder for a soul that is as beautiful as yours.

"would you give it a chance?" he asks.

"why, neuvillette?"

"because i know," his beautiful eyes don't falter from your own. "i know of the one life i spent where i lost you."

the chill that runs up your spine is not from the cold.

"and now, i have finally found you again."

you don't know who moves first, but his lips are on yours in the next breath you take. you are anguished, confused, happy, at peace.

even in the snow and the pretty lights, all you can see is him.

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