#WHERES MY TRAVELLER LUMINE FICS.

[welcometoteyvat]

give me thoughts on your favorite traveler and playable character duo

[astraystayyh]

Echoes of love

"to love someone is firstly to confess : i am prepared to be devastated by you."

Chapter i. to forget

genre : memory loss trope. angst. slow burn. unrequited love except you were in a loving relationship and everything changes overnight.

pairing : minho x reader.

summary : if given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

cw : depiction of a car accident. mention of blood and physical wounds. depiction of a nightmare and anxiety attack. reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 14.8k words.

song recs : the night we met/terrible love/black friday/cover me.

a.n: she's here, she's yours, i hope you'll enjoy reading one of the most challenging things I've ever wrote :') your feedback is highly appreciated <3

special thanks to @forlix for going through this journey with me, i love you thank you, seriously, you mean the world to me. and to @dorisnumber1fan for listening to my initial rants about this fic, and all the ones i ever write. i love you and appreciate you so much, more than i could explain <3

quotes series masterlist. next chapter.

Day 1.

You're floating in a dark void, save for the specks of light swirling around you. A peculiar serenity fills your being, a tranquility unlike any you’ve ever known. It’s as though your body isn’t your own; but rather an otherworldly vessel, calmly traversing the cosmos, dancing in constellations with the stars that encircle you.

A sudden electrifying warmth surges from your hand, traveling down the contours of your knuckles, melting into the lines of your palm. It pulsates within your being as if you’re holding the Earth's very core between your fingers. You stir from your ethereal orbit, longing to break apart from the celestial lights, to reunite with your body once again.

The warmth intensifies, causing your fingers to involuntarily clench. A deluge of radiance enfolds you, drawing you into a luminous hole. You squint your eyes, drinking in the light- your first breath.

Your eyes flutter open in a daze, your throat parched, rasping like sandpaper against your vocal cords. White encompasses you yet again, from the high ceilings to the pristine bed you’re lying on. It takes you a few blinks to grasp your new environment- an unfamiliar hospital room. You wearily close your eyes, hoping for the stillness to return, aching for the peace you felt within your bones mere moments ago.

But to no avail; only the tingling sensation remains.

You tilt your head, eyebrows shooting upwards as you notice a hand clasping yours. A figure lies their forehead beside your body, black disheveled locks tickling your palm.

The warmth, you understand where it comes from now.

You attempt to slip your hand out of theirs, prompting the man to awaken with a jolt, surprise dancing across his features as his gaze meets yours. Dark circles adorn his face- testimonies to days of fatigue imprinted upon every feature of his. Yet, all of it dissipates as he gazes at you, lips slightly parted, bunny teeth peeking out. His face transforms into a radiant smile, stirring a mysterious longing within your soul- it brushes against your fingertips before slipping beyond your reach. 

"You're awake," he whispers in awe, and your tiredness renders you mute. You point to your throat, hoping that he'll understand what you need. "Water? Is- Is that what you want?" he asks, a touch too eager, fingers running through his hair in sheer disbelief. You nod and he rises swiftly, pouring you a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.

You sip diligently as his hand caresses the crown of your hair, the warmth now traveling to the top of your head. You feel lightheaded as if the blood in your veins has thickened, the very life in you slowed to a faint whisper. Yet, a timid relief emerges as your thirst is finally quenched.

"I'll- I'll go call the doctor," he tells you, his beaming smile unwavering. It’s too bright, everything around you is, and you feel a throbbing headache growing at your temple’s base.

It's a mere minute before the man returns, a doctor and two nurses on his trail. You float within a haze as the nurse shines a beam of light in your eyes. The response of your pupils seems to please her.

"Do you remember what happened?" the doctor inquires and you frown. You've been racking your brain for an explanation as to why you're here, but to no avail. You shake your head.

"What's your name," he proceeds, lips growing into a thin line.

"Y/n, Y/l/n," you respond, your voice sounding foreign to your ears, as though it hasn’t left the confines of your throat for ages. You miss the darkness; you want to sleep again.

"What date are we?"

Your eyebrows knit together as you try to think of an answer. "The 20th or maybe the 21st September."

"What year?"

"2022."

An eerie silence falls upon the room, a stillness resembling the one of your dreams; but it isn’t comforting, on the contrary, it fills your being with an unsettling dread, one that trickles inside you with each second spent in silence. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. You close your eyes to avoid the sorry ones of the nurse.

"We need to run you an MRI scan," the doctor finally speaks up, tone somber. "It appears you're suffering from retrograde amnesia. But we have to make sure."

It takes time for the words to permeate your consciousness, for the syllables to settle in and start to make sense. Amnesia.

What have you forgotten?

“What…” you chuckle warily, fingers reaching up to soothe your throbbing forehead. “What year is it?”

"It's the 24th of September 2023. You were in a severe car accident two days ago, a drunk truck driver rammed into your car on your way home. You have a fractured rib and extensive leg injury, but no broken bones thankfully. We'll get you to the scan shortly, okay?" he speaks easily as if announcing that you've missed the rain while asleep. As if it’s not a year’s worth of memories you’ve seemingly forgotten, erased in the span of a blink, akin to footprints on sand washed away by the waves. Nothing of importance.

"So, you don't... remember me?" a soft voice quivers, barely above a whisper, and your eyes meet those of the man who’s been at your side, temporarily forgotten in the conversation.

His question is laced with a grave fear, evident in his dilated pupils and trembling hands. A lump blooms in your throat, its thorns pricking at your voice. You aren’t sure you want to answer that question.

"I- I don't."

"Oh."

You’ve never known that a human could crumble in silence, in an imperceptible gasp, so small you almost did not hear it. A crestfallen expression materializes on his face in the span of a heartbeat, features coming together in the rawest expression of anguish you’ve ever seen. You bite your lip.

"Who- Who are you?" you implore, urgency inflecting your tone, hoping that he's no one of importance. Someone who helped you when you got into a car accident. Someone minor who you wouldn't fault your brain for forgetting.

"I was... I-I am your boyfriend. Minho," he utters his name like a broken plea, eyes slightly widening to gauge your reaction. As though those two syllables hold within them a myriad of memories, ones you simply cannot forget.

You don't remember.

The doctor was right in his diagnosis. The scan showed unusual activity within your brain, characteristic of post-traumatic amnesia. You listened numbly as he cited the precautions you should take to heal your physical wounds- to rest, not carry anything heavy, ice your lungs, and go on walks. But you did not care for the state of your body, you’ve bruised it before and it has healed in its own time. It will do it again; it is a familiar path you’ve already undergone. But what about your memory? Your mind that robbed you of a year of your life? How do you get it back?

“There is no guarantee you’d remember. There is also no treatment for amnesia. We advise that you focus on healing first. Do not strain your mind,” your doctor smiled, before leaving the room. His silver wedding band shined mockingly underneath your eye. He doesn’t know what it’s like to forget the lover awaiting you at home.

Minho dutifully sat by your side, nodding along to the doctor’s words. He signed your discharge papers and settled your bills before you could protest, and he was now pushing your wheelchair through the hospital's corridors. You didn’t know what to say to him- how do you talk to a stranger who uttered your name with love dripping between its letters?  

In the hospital’s parking lot, Minho pauses, squatting before you. His eyes are puffy, red veins contrasting against the pristine whites, betraying the tears he must have shed when he excused himself to the toilet.

You suddenly want to beg for a reprieve; it is too much pain for one day, too much for one soul to bear. But it is only six p.m. and Minho's gaze holds you captive, a new emotion dancing in his brown irises- grief. He's looking at you as though you're a phantom, gone when you are still very much breathing.

“We've been together for eleven months, and we moved in together two months ago,” he licks his lips nervously. “You have a two-month medical leave, and I- I don’t want to leave you alone, while you recover. So, you can think of us as… as roommates.” The word felt heavy on his tongue, a fresh wave of tears brimming in his waterline. He swiftly blinks them away.

Your parents are in a faraway city, so is your best friend. You were the one who decided to move somewhere so far, to flee from the skeletons threatening to spill out of your closet. You don't want to burden anyone. You just want to rest.

You nod in agreement and Minho attempts to smile. It is a useless effort; one he quickly gives up. There was nothing to be joyous about.

Minho takes your hand, gently helping you to your feet. He opens the door to his car, and you settle into the passenger seat. It smells pleasant, an apple-scented diffuser dangling from the rearview mirror. Yet, as Minho closes the door, the scent suddenly suffocates you. Your lungs ignite, consuming your oxygen to douse their rising flames. You can no longer breathe inside, panic rippling in your heart violently, pushing at your ribs, begging for an escape. You open the door, collapsing to your knees as a violent coughing fit overtakes you. You blindly clutch at Minho’s arm and he tumbles to the ground with you. 

The ugly sob that had been trapped within your throat finally escapes, and passersby pay you no mind. It must be usual to hear gut-wrenching cries in a hospital parking lot. But Minho seems to care, as his hands soothingly rub your back, undergoing a steadfast path from the nape of your neck down the base of your spine. He’s not panicking and his touch appears to instinctively know how to speak to your sadness, how to soothe your sorrow with unheard words.

You imagine it's not his first time comforting you, and the thought only forces another sob from the depths of your soul, as Minho pulls you up once again. He sits your shaky figure on the wheelchair, closing the car doors.

“We can walk,” he tells you gently, and despite the quietness of his voice, it manages to break through your raging storm. A singular sun ray parting the gloomy clouds.

“It’s okay, I’ll... I’ll suck it up”

"You've been through a terrible car accident, and I won't let you sit here and panic, especially when your wounds are still fresh and your mind is trying to protect you."

His tone is resolute, eyes blazing with determination as he looks at you. You can only nod in response. So, Minho pushes your wheelchair to his house. He doesn’t huff, nor complain about the autumn sun scorching his skin, the effort to push you for the entirety of the road, and then inside his building. He only smiles when his eyes meet yours in the elevator mirror.

He’s tentative as he opens the door to his apartment, hand tightly gripping the keys before turning them, as if preparing himself for a bigger heartbreak, one that lies within what was once his sanctuary- yours too, you suppose.

Minho pushes you inside, pausing near the entrance as your eyes drink in the interior. He seems to await something, perhaps for you to remember the place you’ve called home for the past months. A few seconds pass, and he clears his throat, holding your arm to guide you forward. He avoids your gaze as you both venture in.

“This is the kitchen,” he points to a small kitchenette, where a flower bouquet seems to have wilted, much like the man near you- his emotions now diluted, eyes dimmed as they glaze over the walls. You spot your favorite mug on the racks, one that resembles a fairy mushroom. The sight of it makes your heart clench in your chest. So, this is your home, after all.

You leave the kitchen and walk down a narrow hallway when you stumble on your feet. “Easy, honey,” Minho cautions, and your hold on his forearm falters. He blinks at you before gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” you reply in a small voice.

Minho leads you to the living room, cream-colored sofas with a navy blanket on top, multiple fuzzy pillows scattered all around. A tulip field painting graces the accent blue wall- your favorite flower, two matching slippers rest by the couch, racks of your novels adjacent to his collection of cookbooks, you assume. 

It is all the more evident to you that you’ve both lived here, lives intertwining so seamlessly into one another. The place radiates comfort and warmth, but it refuses to penetrate your being, as if you’re harboring a shield of oblivion, ricocheting off any touch of remembrance. You’re an intruder, standing in stark contrast to the inviting coziness that envelops you.

“I like that wall,” you say in an attempt to lighten the stuffy atmosphere.

“We painted it together,” Minho smiles sadly, and your remorse seems to liquify, blending in with the blood running through your veins.

From the corner of your eyes, you spot three furry masses bolting towards you, small paws clawing at your feet. You feel another dent add to your heart, so much you are sure it would blow away at the tiniest gust of wind. Just how much have you forgotten?

“We… We had cats?” you ask breathlessly, eyes widening as you take in the two orange felines, and the gray, much smaller one.

“These are mine, but you also adopted them, in a way,” he explains, crouching down to pet his cats, scratching the sensitive spot behind their ears. He is tender with them and they appear at ease in his presence. You realize you’ve felt the same since you’ve woken up.

“Hey, my babies,” he coos softly. “Mom- I mean y/n- is tired so let’s give her some space, okay?” he quickly corrects, before gently pushing the cats away from your feet.

Minho shows you the bathroom before leading you to the bedroom- it's a bit untidy, worn clothes thrown on the ground, some of your accessories tossed on top of the vanity. As if the room was also frozen in time, awaiting your return to resume its familiar course.

“You'll sleep here and I'll just take the couch,” Minho interrupts your thoughts as he gently sits you atop the bed.

"But-"

"I’ll make you dinner so you can take your medication, okay?” he ignores your objections, adjusting two pillows behind your back to help you sit up straight, just like the doctor cautioned. His necklace, adorned with your initial, brushes against your cheek. “Try to sleep meanwhile. You need to rest.”

“Minho this is too much-"

“It’s not. If you need anything just call me over, I’ll leave the door open,” he says, tucking you in beneath the blanket. 

“I don’t want to burden you,” you finally admit, voice slightly raised so he’d finally listen.

“Y/n, I love you.” He speaks so suddenly, fists balled on either side of your body. “And this is what I do for the person I love. I… I don’t know how to not care for you, don’t take that away from me, please. Please,” he repeats, voice faltering under the weight of his plea. 

"Okay," you concede. 

You can't quite remember that first night, the morphine injected into your veins made you ebb and flow out of consciousness, only recollecting small fragments of the hours flowing by.

But you remember the dull pain settling into your bones, one you knew would accompany you for the following weeks. You remember the thoughts swirling in your mind like a tempest- your near brush with death, how she almost trapped you into her icy hold; the year of memories gone with the wind, as if they were never yours to begin with; and the stranger whose home you are in now, the very one who took care of you throughout the night.

And you can't perfectly recall it, but you swear Minho stayed by your side until the early hours of the morning, warm hand pressed to your forehead to check your temperature, cold tears falling on your arm as he laid his head next to your sleeping body.

Day 2.

You miss being asleep the second you wake up in.

Every fiber of your being aches, as though pain has latched itself into every muscle, its grip unrelenting now that the morphine's comforting veil has lifted. You drag a hand tiredly across your face, tears of frustration welling like dewdrops in your eyes. It's only 10 a.m. Far too early for one's spirit to crumble.

A bright post-it note on the bedside table catches your weary gaze. "I went to drop your medical leave at your work. I've made you breakfast it's in the kitchen. Don't forget to drink your medicine, I'll be home soon"

What home was Minho referring to, exactly? Because this one wasn’t yours, and neither was the one back in your hometown. Were you destined to be a passerby in temporary places, always lingering near the door, ready to put your shoes back on and leave at any moment?

10:03. Still too early.

You find solace in having two months off of your work. You couldn’t bear being somewhere where everybody knew you for months, while your memories of them span but mere weeks. The expectations they would have, the pressure to conform, to mirror the footsteps of your past self was an unbearable burden. What if she was better than you? Made better choices, spoke more eloquently? What if you couldn't live up to the image they had conjured? What if you couldn't face the repercussions of your past actions?

10:07. You need to shower.

You slowly ease yourself off the bed, careful not to put pressure on your injured leg, avoiding even the slightest exhalation. You pretend as if nothing’s happening as you pick up a pair of pajamas that you recognize from the closet – a familiar relic from the life you’ve always known.

It's a charade, you’re aware of it. You're but treading on fragile ice, your pain threatening to shatter the frozen façade beneath your feet, plunging you into the frigid truth at any given moment.

You walk into the shower, attempting to rinse the day's tiredness away. But moving your limbs is a strenuous task, and you can't reach over your head to wash your hair. You let out a dry chuckle as the water runs over your back, splattering across the white tiles.

Your heart swells in your chest, an uncomfortable weight pressing against your fractured ribs. Still, it beats, and you cling with all your might to this one silver lining.

Minho has made you pancakes, not the most nutritious meal but the only one you can stomach on your sick days. He's also brewed you tea, a singular sugar cube resting at the bottom of your cup, just the way you like it. Your grip on your fork tightens, knuckles paling. You wish he had put three sugar cubes, or that he made you anything but pancakes, something to reassure you that he didn’t know you so intimately. That your mind hasn’t stolen a love where every detail of you was known. 

The door opens, keys clinking on a solid surface. The sound of it tugs at your heart ever so faintly, a distant bell ringing somewhere far- it quiets down before you even realize it is there.

“Good morning,” Minho greets, the corners of his mouth curving upward although his eyes remain downcast, redness tinging its outlines. You look down at your cup, unable to hold his wounded stare.

“Good morning. Thank you for the breakfast and for going to my work. I really appreciate it,” you say.

“It's nothing. Your coworkers wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Mm,” you murmur. “That's nice of them."

“Here,” he slides a phone across the table. “I bought you a new one since your phone’s screen was smashed in the car accident, but I took it to a repair shop. Maybe they’d manage to fix it.”

You go to protest when he shakes his head, silencing you. “Don’t say It’s too much.”

A surprised giggle escapes your lips at his accurate prediction, momentarily halting Minho in his tracks. You swallow the sound down as Minho clears his throat, dissipating your laughter into thin air. “I put my phone number there. Also, the ones of your family that I have. Always call me if you need anything, okay?” he pauses, locking your eyes with his. “Anything.”

“It's okay, I really don't want to bother you. You might be busy."

“I’ll still answer,” he quickly responds. “I’ll always answer you.” 

There is a certain sincerity that coats Minho's words, one that softens the edges of his letters, making them easier to permeate your being, to sink into the seas of your soul.

“Minho,” you call out gently.

“Yes, hon- " He inhales deeply, eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Yes, Yn?”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course.”

The ensuing hours blur into a hazy dance, in which you’re only awakened by Minho’s warm hand on your shoulder, as he brings you lunch, then dinner to your room, paired with the medicine you need to take. He doesn’t talk to you, only carrying out the tray outside when he deems you asleep- as if tiptoeing near your existence, afraid he’d slip into you again, knowing you won’t be there to catch him.

It's nearly midnight when you leave your room to use the bathroom. You pause near the door when you spot Minho petting his cats. You don’t even know their names, you haven’t dared to ask, still foolishly holding on to the hopes that this is but a horrible nightmare, one clawing at your tender skin even after you rose.

“You’re sad, aren’t you?” he coos softly, and the cats respond with plaintive mewls as if understanding his words. “Mm. I’m really sad too,” his voice is barely above a whisper, as though it’s a confession he isn’t ready to speak out loud. The pain in your ribs intensifies.

“But it’s okay, she’ll remember us. We are her family, she can’t forget us forever, right?” your breathing hitches. “Right,” he adds softly, as if to reassure himself; to inflate hope in a heart deserted by you.

Day 3.

Minho threw away the wilted flowers, leaving the vase bare at the center of the kitchen table. 

You almost wish he hadn't- those lifeless blooms were the sole reflection of your faded spirit within this home. Now everything in the house seemed alive, grand windows ushering in daylight to cascade upon the living space, causing the ivory walls to glisten. Everything, except for you and Minho, two ghosts skirting along the existence of one another.

There is, was, love imprinted in this house. You could sense it though you couldn’t feel it anymore. By the two cat mugs that connect through their tails, your products intermingling with Minho's in the bathroom sink, the notes you found hung on the fridge- some with his handwriting, most with yours, reminding Minho how much you loved him.

Where did all that love go? Did it dissipate into thin air, gone as if it had never existed? Has it turned into something else, lurking beneath the surface of your skin, waiting for you to remember?

You can’t find the answers, and as Minho finishes up his breakfast, you find yourself longing to ask him about the past year. Who you were and what you’ve lived. But you know it’ll feel like salt on a wound, akin to bringing a mirror before his face, reminding him of all that's been lost.

So instead, you offer to wash the dishes. He refuses, not that you expected anything else given his attentiveness to you.

“It’s only two plates and two cups, I can do it,” you insist, but he just stares blankly at you, before motioning to your ribs, and your swollen ankle. “It’ll be quick, please. I-I want to do it.”

“Fine,” he concedes, gaze softening. “But if you feel pain you'll stop.”

“Okay,” you smile tentatively, eager for the sense of normalcy that this mundane act would bring. You haven't forgotten how to wash a cup, at least.

Five minutes pass, and you suddenly freeze, plates drying in your hands. You have no idea where the dishes go.

This was your home, yet you can't even remember which cupboard holds the plates. 

Silent tears flow down your cheeks and you wipe them away angrily. You clutch the plate in your hands so tightly you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. You selfishly wish it did- you were tired of being the sole broken entity in this house.

A small whimper escapes your lips, startling Minho who was mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He rushes to your side, brows furrowed, concern woven into his face. 

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?” he questions; eyes raking through your figure anxiously.

You shake your head as your tears double over. You can feel your heart constricting in your chest, longing for comfort, for a missing piece that was snatched from you, the void it left behind pulsating achingly within your being.

“I-I don’t know where the dishes go, and yesterday I tried to w-wash my hair and I c-couldn’t do it,” you admit through hiccups, plate still in your hands. Minho gently takes it from your tight hold, and your pinky brushes against his palm. He flexes his hand at the touch.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault. I should've shown you,” his voice is gentle, reminding you of how one soothes a child during a tantrum. You're embarrassing yourself but you can't find it in you to care. 

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t p-put them back in their place,” you choke out, head turned down, tears ricocheting off sage tiles. You’ve always wanted a green kitchen. You’ve gotten it and you can’t remember.

“It’s okay, I’ll put them back. Shh, yn, please don’t cry.” He’s slightly panicking, hands tightly fisted near his body as if he’s afraid they’d act on their own accord, reaching out to touch you the way they’ve done the past few months. He sighs softly before taking a cautious step toward you. 

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” he offers, smiling tenderly at you, knuckles brushing ever so gently against your cheeks. “Hm? You can sit in front of the sink and I’ll wash it.”

“You’d do it?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

There is a softness that emanates from every atom of Minho, flowing from his fingertips, molding everything he touches. You were sure of it as he stood beside you, pouring shampoo over your hair with you sitting on a stool, head tilted back to the sink, your favorite song playing in the background. As he dried your hair with a warm towel, and then settled behind you on the bed, gently lathering your hair with your familiar serum, brushing your strands with care, avoiding any tugs that might pain you.

Everything Minho does is not to hurt you. 

You went to sleep with the ghost of his fingers lingering on your scalp, his warm breath still caressing the back of your neck. You found slumber came much easier to you that night. You account it to your hair finally being clean.

Day 4.

“Yn?” Minho calls out gently, his head peering through the bedroom door.  “Should we go on a walk? Just around the block, the doctor said it’d be good.”

“Sure,” you nod, glancing at the bedside clock. 9:43 p.m. it reads. 

“Dress warmly, it’s cold outside,” he advises softly before leaving.

A few minutes later, you're clad in a gray university hoodie that drapes slightly past your thighs and a pair of matching sweatpants. Minho halts in his tracks upon seeing you, his eyes racking furiously over your figure. He shakes his head, swallowing a growing lump of despair. 

“Wait here,” he whispers, vanishing into his room, leaving you fidgeting in place. An orange cat sidles up to your feet and you slowly bend down to scratch its ears. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” you smile sadly and he purrs in response, as if forgiving you for forgetting.

You wished you could forgive yourself too, one day.

Minho comes back, a red scarf in his hands. He steps forward until only a few inches are separating your bodies. With attentive care, he wraps the scarf around your neck, securing it in place. His brows furrow as he loops the fabric through and you release a small, shaky exhale.

There is a fog dissipating before your eyes, a misty veil lifted off your irises. In the four days you've known Minho, you always willed yourself to not look at him for too long, afraid of the pain you'd discern brewing over his figure, the shadows cast across his face.

But now, he stands so near that you cannot help but look at him. Wispy black bangs fall on top of his forehead, framing his rich honey eyes. His long eyelashes flutter with each blink, pupils dilated like a constellation-laden night sky. The smooth bridge of his high nose, dotted with the smallest mole; a well-defined cupid's bow outlining rosy, plump lips. He’s beautiful, even in his sadness; with sunken cheekbones and darkened eye circles, the hunch of his back, and the shake in his hands as he gently frees your hair from underneath the scarf.

Was it wrong of you to find beauty in his pain?

His gaze softens when it finally meets yours, his hand still holding your scarf tightly, as if it's a lifeline tethering him to you, one with which he verifies your existence, suddenly so elusive now that it no longer entwines with his.

It must be strange, surely, to grieve the loss of someone who’s still alive, breathing in the room next to yours.

Minho smiles at you, his fingers hovering above your head, as though he wished to smooth down your hair. He retracts his hand back, burying it deep inside the pocket of his black sweatpants, physically trapping it, stopping it from reaching it out to you once again. 

You’ve noticed his reticence to touch you, even when he wakes you in the morning to drink your medicine. His hand never fully rests upon your shoulder, it is only his fingertips that delicately graze your skin. It's as though he’s convinced you're but a figment of his imagination, and he fears that once he touches you, his hand will pass right through your body, shattering the illusion he foolishly held onto.

You blink and Minho’s already three steps away, grabbing his keys and opening the door.

Despite cautioning you against the cold, Minho doesn't say no when you ask for ice cream, paying for it before you can reach the counter. It's an unfamiliar brand, one that he advised you to try, and you don't regret following his choice. It’s a sweet mixture of vanilla and caramelized almonds, coated in rich milk chocolate- you can't stop the happy smile that graces your lips upon tasting it. 

You glance at Minho to find an unprecedented softness coloring his expression, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. It isn't a smile directed at you, but rather an uncontrollable display of his feelings, splashing across his face like paint on a canvas. 

You expect him to swallow this mark of affection down, to conceal it with a placid expression, but he doesn't. He only tilts his chin forward, gesturing to the ice cream.

"Do you like it?"

You hum in agreement, a grin stretching wider on your lips. "I do."

"You did too, back then, when I showed it to you," he says, almost casually, as if referring to a childhood memory that turned out to be more important to him than to you.

"You have good taste," you reply, scrunching your nose playfully at him. The smile slips away from his face, his voice somber when he speaks again. "I really do, don't I?"

Walking with Minho isn't as awkward as you had imagined it might be. He shows you the neighborhood- the nearby playground, the hidden flower shop tucked away in a corner and you make a mental note to visit it later. You point at closed shops inquiring about them- he answers each of your questions diligently.

Your accident is never brought up, and you both tiptoe around the topic, skirting the edge of a dark forest where the light no longer seeps through and dark vines cover the sun. 

You both refuse to venture into the unknown.

"Just down the road, there is a bookstore. They have really great deals and I bought most-" Shouts erupt from somewhere nearby, loud slurred voices of two men under the influence. Your hand instinctively wraps around Minho's forearm, while his hand moves in front of your body, acting as a shield. 

You freeze, letting out a shaky breath. "I- I hate yelling."

"I know," he responds simply, lowering his hand.

He knows you- it is a comforting thought, to realize that you exist beyond the confines of your own mind.

Day 5.

Minho’s staring blankly at his phone, your conversation shining dimly before his eyes. You’ve just sent him a text reassuring him that you indeed took your medicine since he wasn’t home today with you- his three days off work passing by in the blink of an eye. 

In his mind, the past week felt like a mirage, a nightmare woven with intricate threads of his deepest fears- losing you, never getting to see the glimmer in your eyes again, and then looking at it and realizing it is no longer directed at him. 

He exhales softly, tucking his phone into the pocket of his navy trousers. The salty breeze from the nearby lake grazes his senses, and he closes his eyes, yearning for a fleeting respite. 

He purposely avoids watching the sun's descent into the water, which paints the sky in hues of yellow and orange. He no longer finds the sunset unfolding before him captivating, or any other scenery, for that matter, even those he once deemed beautiful. The world, in his eyes, has become lackluster and devoid of vibrancy, overshadowed by a profound sadness he never fathomed would reside in his heart. 

He still doesn’t know how he managed to remain strong until now, tending to you, holding your gaze, and breathing near you when you don’t even remember him.

You’ve survived, he reminds himself, you were lucky enough to be able to draw these breaths. The thought of any other outcome sends uncomfortable shivers down his spine. You’re alive and you’ll be home, he clings to this truth as he starts making his way back to his apartment. 

For how long will this knowledge offer him solace? How long will it push him to face a new day? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he wants to. 

It is much deeper into the night, the sound of the TV playing softly in the background. Minho has given up on slumber since the day of your accident. He was used to the feel of your fingers playing with his hair, your goodnight kisses planted on his forehead, then his on yours. 

He doesn't know how to sleep without burying his head in your neck, your chest, your stomach, wherever he saw fit that day. And he was used to your warmth- the warmth of your body as he pressed it tightly to his, the warmth of your love as you whispered goodnight to him. And the living room feels immensely cold in your absence. 

He fixates his gaze on the ceiling, resolute in his effort to avoid scanning the room. Since every corner he dares to inspect serves as a poignant reminder of the life you both once shared, a life whose echoes still reverberate in the air around him. The sound of your laughter, the memory of your annoyed whines when he teased you a bit too fervently. Vivid recollections unfold before his eyes- your tender kisses exchanged under the fridge's light, warm hugs by the front door after a particularly long day, none of you willing to let go first. 

He remembers your delighted giggles the first time you entered the house. It was still unfurnished, save for a floatable mattress and two empty cups of ramen beside it. But you were happy, immensely so, and your joy seemed to fill every room, painting it with shades of your love. Now the house feels empty- you're here and yet you aren't, and he is still on the sidewalk where he received that fateful call from your hospital. 

The moonlight filters through the window, and Minho looks at the light without truly seeing it. It's as if darkness surrounds him entirely- a bottomless sky where the stars of your affection have fizzled out, so suddenly, leaving him alone to wander blind. He can't help but feel guilty- had he not given you a love worth remembering?

Minho sighs loudly once again, trying to coax the reluctant breaths to escape his body. He pulls himself to his feet to check on you, knowing that you had to sleep upright for the first few days so your ribs would heal properly, which is why he often found himself readjusting your body at night. 

He peeks through the door, the light from the hallway casting an ethereal glow on your body. He frowns when he notices you fidgeting in your sleep, eyebrows knitted together. A soft gasp escapes your lips and Minho hurries to your side. He's witnessed your nightmares before and he knows that this one must be particularly terrifying to elicit such startled sounds from you.

“Y/n,” Minho coaxes gently, but you don’t respond. He presses his palm to your shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Y/n, wake up.” You writhe in your place, fear evident in your features, and Minho grabs both your shoulders, growing more urgent in his attempts to wake you. “Y/n, come on wake up!” he speaks louder, and you startle awake, pushing his arms away.

“I’m... Where am I?” you ask frantically, hand running through your hair. A sharp pain seems to surge through your ribs as you clutch your chest, slightly doubling over. 

“Take it easy, Y/n. Deep breaths,” he wills gently and you raise your head, meeting his eyes. Recognition shines in them, but not love, not anymore. He never knew affection could alter someone’s gaze this much.

“Minho… I- I remember,” you gasp, tears trailing down your face at an alarming rate. He freezes in place, tongue thickening in his mouth, unable to move it.

“What... what do you remember?” he asks carefully, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“The accident. I remember driving and I… I was going in my lane, I- I didn’t… I wasn’t driving fast, but a truck came out of nowhere and its lights blinded me, and then… it rammed into the passenger seat side of the car and-" Your hands shake as you bring them to your face. “The blood, there was so much blood coming out of me, that’s- that’s the last thing I remember, it was in my hands and my arms and-" You’re wiping frantically at your skin as if erasing remnants of the red liquid only you can see. “I bled so much but I was… I- I don’t-"

“Can I hold your hands?” Minho cuts you off, needing the panic to dissipate from your being.

“Please,” you stutter, and he promptly grabs your hands in his warm ones, intertwining your fingers together, rubbing his thumb soothingly across your palm. 

“You are safe now. You are alive and you are breathing and you are safe.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, I drove safely, why… why was I hit?” you ask in a small, broken voice, overwhelmed by the unjust reality of the world. Minho swallows his own tears, throwing them down the pits of his pain. The one thing he wished you’d never remember was your accident, the sight of your unconscious body for those three days nearly driving him insane. 

“He was drunk. And he’s in jail now. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t have prevented it." 

You remain silent, gaze lost on the wall. “Hm? It wasn’t your fault, right?" he presses, squeezing your hand lightly.

“Yeah.” You sigh, unconvinced. Minho reluctantly drops your hand to pour you a glass of water, and you diligently drink it, before curling around yourself in a ball. 

“No, you can’t sit like this,” he gently reprimands and you pout. 

"My heart hurts. The pressure helps."

“I know it does,” he smiles in understanding, “but we have to make sure your ribs won’t hurt more, alright?” he explains as he pulls you upright, tucking pillows beneath your arms. He grabs a hoodie from the closet and rolls it into a ball, placing it gently on your chest. 

“Here, you can hug this instead.” You giggle quietly at the makeshift plushie, but your laughter suddenly morphs into fresh tears, catching him off-guard. 

“I’m so tired, Minho. And I’m so frustrated and mad and sad. Is it possible to f-feel all these things at once?" You hiccup, burying your face into his hoodie, soaking it in tears. 

“It is,” he hums gently, “Do you think it’d help if you talked to a therapist?” He feels you tense up beneath the comforter. “Only if you want to, on your own terms.”

“I’ll think about it,” you whisper. 

“Of course,” he says. “Try to sleep again, mm?”

“I don’t think I can,” you chuckle quietly, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your cardigan. “Do you have work tomorrow?” you ask.

“I do.”

“What do you work as?” 

“Computer programming. I’m also a dance teacher on the side,” he adds quietly, feeling a bit vulnerable at revealing this bit about himself again.

“How do you manage both?” you ask in awe and he shrugs.

 “My IT job leaves me a lot of free time. And I’ve always loved dance, so it doesn’t really feel like a job, you know?”

“Mm, you must work very hard at it. That’s why your body’s so toned,” you say almost absentmindedly, as Minho lets out a surprised chuckle at your words. 

“You think my body is toned?”

“I mean- I didn’t ogle you I just… you know, you wear these fitted shirts it’s hard not to notice your muscles and-"

"You are sick and yet you’re staring at my body?” he tsks. “I feel used.”

“Hey,” you hit him with the hoodie he gave you. “Forget I said anything,” you pout. 

“It’s okay, I work very hard for these, thank you very much,” he flexes slightly, and genuine laughter bubbles up from you both. This might be the one thing he misses the most. 

You both quiet down, silence filling the room once again, but it isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable, almost as if you're the same person he's always known.  

“What’s your favorite color?” you suddenly ask. 

“Purple.”

“Did my favorite color change over this past year?”

“No,” he chuckles, “it’s still that obnoxious orange.”

“It’s not obnoxious, it’s peculiar.”

“it’s weird and it hurts my poor eyes,” he whines, covering his face as if wounded by the mere thought of it. 

“Hey, what if it can hear us and now you just hurt its feelings?”

“Colors have feelings now?” he asks, amused.

“Everything has feelings,” you nod matter-of-factly.

“Okay then think of the feelings of this bed we are both squishing with our weights.”

“Don’t say that. Now I’m sad for it,” you pat the comforter gently, a slight pout tugging at your lips. 

“I think you should sleep,” he smiles and you fake a gasp. “Is my convo boring you?” 

“Yes. Now sleep, Yn,” he brings the comforter up your body, sliding away from the bed. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Can you… can you sleep here too? I saw the inflatable mattress in the storage room. If that’s not… too much to ask for.”

"Of course not. I'll be back." 

"Thank you, Minho" you smile, lower lip slightly quivering. "Thank you for not being mad at me."

Just how many cracks can one heart bear before breaking beyond repair? Minho thinks he's close to finding out. 

Day 6.

The lights of your dreams have returned, but they are no longer comforting, nor warm, they glare harshly, searing your eyes as they announce your impending doom. Each second draws out in slow-motion and you find yourself counting the breaths you inhale, fearing they may be your last. One in, one out, one in, one out. The moment you dreaded unfolds- the truck collides with your car, flipping it upside down.

However, this time, flames rage within. You know that your car wasn't burned, but they feel terrifyingly tangible as they latch onto your skin. The heat becomes unbearable, you are no longer sure that this is just a mere dream. You try to scream but smokey air fills your lungs instead, robbing you of your ability to speak.

You need to wake up. You need someone to rouse you from this nightmare. Minho. You try to utter his name, but it escapes your lips in a strangled whisper. The lights won.

A cool hand clasps your own, yanking you from the fiery dream, dissolving it like sugar in a hot cup of tea. You startle awake to find Minho hovering over you, brows knitted in concern, his hand tenderly cradling yours.

“Are you okay? Another bad dream?” he inquires and you sigh in response, nodding as your head falls back onto the pillow.

He brushes your hair back, some damp strands still clinging to your sweaty forehead. "You screamed my name. Was I in your nightmare?” he ventures carefully, afraid he was one of the sources of your fear.

“No, I… I thought of you, in my dream,” you reassure, although your words seem to have the opposing effect, making Minho pause in his tracks. You’ve noticed his habit of freezing around you as if needing time to process what you just said. You wonder if you’ve ever came to learn the meaning behind each of his silences, what his blinks convey in ways his tongue fails to.

“You are heating up,” he clears his throat, pressing his hand against your forehead. “Do you wanna shower? I’ll make you tea meanwhile.”

“Okay, yeah. I’d like that,” you nod, glancing at your phone- 3.47 a.m.

Twenty minutes later, you find Minho sitting on the inflatable bed, legs crossed, two steaming mugs of tea before him. He appears drowsy, eyes shutting and reopening as if fending off slumber. It’s almost an endearing sight- the way his bangs fall before his eyes, obstructing his vision, the sleeves of his pullover dangling over his hands, hiding them from your view. He brought the mattress without you asking him to. The attention brings a smile to your face.

“Hi,” you greet softly and Minho looks up, a tender smile on his face. “Hey. Here is your tea.”

“Thank you,” you beam at him, settling on the edge of your bed, legs crisscrossed to mirror his. “I’m sorry that I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Isn't that what sleep is?” you snort and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“I was still conscious, you know. I can’t really sleep these days.”

“Is the couch uncomfortable?” you ask, worried, fidgeting with your lower lip.

“It’s not the couch,” he says as his eyes lock on yours, a stare so intense it forces you to look down at your cup. ‘it’s you’, you read in his gaze. You have no answer for that.

“What's your favorite food?” you suddenly wonder.

“Pudding.”

“But that’s dessert?”

“I really like the one you used to make me.”

“I cooked for you? and you liked it?” you giggle. “I’m not really good at it, usually.”

“I taught you some basic skills,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows proudly at you.

“Too bad your effort is now wasted.”

“It’s not a waste if it was done with love,” he pauses, licking his lips. “And I remember it.”

A bittersweet fog shrouds the air- he remembers that memory, but you don’t. Perhaps you will never bridge that gap, no matter how much you want to. The room in your heart may remain forever locked, the gateway to that chamber brimming with your stolen memories. Maybe you're condemned to merely stand before the closed door, straining to hear the echoes of the love that resonates behind, forever just out of reach.

You don’t fall asleep again that night. And as Minho’s quiet snores fill the room, you rummage your mind in search of a pudding recipe, hoping to retrieve the memory he spoke of so tenderly, shaky hands holding his mug tightly. Silent tears trail down your cheeks and you try your best to stifle the sound of your cries. 

You want to make pudding. You want to make him pudding so badly.

Day 7.

It’s been a week since you woke up anew. Seven days adrift in a vast sea where waves of your memories lap at the shores of your mind, unable to breach the walls guarding your recollections of the past year.

Minho took you to the hospital for your weekly check-up. He sat by your side as the doctor reassured you that your ribs were healing relatively well, but you still needed time to recover, time for your body to mend, time for your memories to return. You loathed the waiting, the wasted days slipping through your fingers. You wanted a now. 

But you kept all these thoughts to yourself, thanking the doctor as he exited the room. 

Minho rented a bicycle to drive you around since the thought of being in a car made your anxiety spike. He installed a little seat for you, in that bright, obnoxious orange color you love very dearly. The sight of it nearly brought tears to your eyes this morning.

Minho idly pedaled around, choosing a scenic route, one he knew by heart from the looks of it. You closed your eyes, savoring the last sun rays of the year. Autumn was fading, winter clawing its way into the seasons slowly. You weren’t sure you could handle both the cold and the grief.

Miho took time off work for your doctor's appointment, and you both spent the day around one another, side by side on the couch, a new book in your hands, and an anime playing on the TV for Minho. 

You could see him casting occasional, nervous glances in your direction, as you flipped the pages of the book. You didn’t understand why at first.

But then you did.

You only brought it up at night, when it was past 2 a.m. and you knew that Minho wasn’t sleeping either, the screen of his phone illuminating his face. He left the inflatable mattress in the room, no longer waiting for a nightmare to occur. You weren’t complaining. You desperately needed company.

“Minho,” you call out gently.

“Mm?”

“How did we meet?”

You can hear Minho suck in a deep breath at your question, before placing his phone down, the only light source in the room fizzling out. It made talking easier that way, when only your voices were heard, carried around, as if emitting from two entities that weren’t you both.

“We met… near your old apartment block. I was going to the kimbap place near yours, you remember that one, right?” 

You hum in response.

“And I saw you crying, crouching near an injured cat. Some car had run over her leg, and she couldn’t walk anymore. And you didn’t know what to do, so I helped you. You insisted on coming with me to the vet where I take my cats. So, we caught a cab. And you were so worried, you didn’t stop crying, so the cab driver thought I did something to you,” he chuckles faintly.

“Then, the vet put a cast on her leg and reassured us that she’d be okay. And I told him I’d take her home and bring her for check-ups. But you were so worried, you begged me to send you updates about the cat. So, you gave me your number. And we talked.”

“What happened to the cat?”

“I took her to a rescue store I trusted since I couldn’t take her in. and we still visited her from time to time. And then, she found a good family.”

“And what happened to us?” you inquire softly, hoping that if your voice was quiet enough then your question wouldn't hurt Minho as much. 

“We kept in touch," he said. "And it was… easy to talk to you, I felt as if I had known you for my entire life. When you found out I had three cats, we Facetimed a lot so you’d see them, but then we just kept on calling, every day, for nearly two weeks. Being with you felt natural, you know? I didn’t overthink it. I never did."

“And then three weeks later you came over to see Soonie, Dori, and Doongie. We ended up watching three movies in a row, and you were so tired you slept on my couch.”

“That’s embarrassing,” you chuckle.

"Yes," he laughs and you reach over to swat his shoulder playfully. "But it was also cute, and endearing. Then you came over a lot, and we just cooked together. Well, I cooked and you watched.”

“Right, that sounds more like me," you instantly agree. 

“We hung outside too, whenever one of us had free time. We had a lot of common hobbies and interests so we never ran out of things to talk about. We made time for each other too.”

“How did we start dating?”

“You made the first move.”

“I did?” you shoot up from your place, hissing when the abrupt movement causes a twinge of pain in your ribs.

“Take it easy,” he giggles, as he illuminates your face with his flashlight. “You did.”

“Did you put a spell on me? I swore I’d never make a first move again after I was rejected in third grade. That was my most sacred oath."

“Well… you were ranting about this book. The one you were reading today,” he adds, and your excitement fizzles out, as the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place. “You were sad because you had no one to talk to about it. So, I bought the book and read it. I gave you my copy, complete with highlighted passages and notes. And when I did… you kissed me, without warning,” his voice is softer now, as he fiddles with the tip of his blushing ears. "You said it was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for you.”

“It was. It is,” you whisper, heart caught in your throat. “I saw the photograph of us both lodged between the pages of the book. Did we take it that day?”

“Yes, we weren’t dating, not yet. Because I told you I wanted to take you out on a proper date. But you wanted us to take a picture holding the book… So you’d remember.”

“So I'd remember,” you repeat, voice quivering. What good was it for in the end?

 “I looked so happy in the photograph,” you whisper, tears welling up your eyes. “I looked so happy with you,” your voice breaks as you utter that last part. "Did I love you, Minho?"

"You did," he nods softly, blinking away his own tears. 

“And did you love me?”

“I did. I still do, very much.”

“Thank you, for loving me. It sounds like I’ve lived a happy year with you.”

Minho's pain is akin to a polite guest; it lingers by the corner, speaking in whispers, hardly ever raising its voice. You'd never really notice it, unless you strain your ears, as you're doing now. Only then would you discern the tremors of his quiet sobs- broken, stifled, determined not to make themselves known, only escaping his lips when he thinks you've fallen asleep. 

Day 8.

Whenever an overwhelming emotion ran freely along the corridors of your soul, you'd often find yourself curled in a fetal position, knees drawn to your chest, like a fragile leaf.

Your teacher once explained that it reminds us of safer times in the wombs of our mothers, when the cruelty of life hasn’t yet reached us. 

It is the way you’re resting now, upon the cold, hardwood floor, dozens of books surrounding you. You decided to go through each book in Minho’s library, the need to satiate your curiosity overtaking you. You didn’t know what you were looking for, exactly. Other photographs, surely, in the hopes that one of them would spark up your memory, ignite the flame of remembrance. 

What you didn’t expect was to find Minho talking to you through books. Within the pages, amid the words, scribbled in small, dainty handwriting, threads of his thoughts all relating to you. Quotes he thought you’d appreciate, highlighted segments that reminded him of you. And dedications, so many dedicated lines you felt like you could drown in them. It felt as if Minho was on a quest to find love within every line, only to inscribe your name beside it.

Putting down the last book, you were left with a huge void, akin to a black hole eating away at your heart. So, you laid on the floor, one arm underneath your head, knees held tightly to your chest- as if trying to create borders for your sadness, to stop it from spilling out of your body, drowning the house in even more sorrow. Those four walls have had enough, more than they could contain. And so did you.

You suddenly longed for the very beginning of your life, when time was but a tranquil stream, when you were unaware of the hurtful years it would carve into your existence. Back to when your spine was still curled around itself; for it was never meant to be straightened. Your spine was never strong enough to bear your pain. 

You wanted to talk to someone, but you didn’t know who you could turn to. You didn’t know how to articulate these emotions into words, tangible enough for someone to understand them. And you couldn’t talk to Minho about it, not when he was hurting on his own. 

Because he smiled down at his cats, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. His laughter echoed around the room when he talked to his friends on the phone. And sometimes, he even hummed under his breath while making you breakfast. But this happiness never reached his eyes, behind his pupils the sadness seared itself into his veins, casting a gloomy shadow that followed him everywhere he went. It was a palpable ache, one that filled the very atmosphere with the metallic taste of grief. Making it almost impossible for you to breathe in. Even more so when you remember it was all your fault.

These are the thoughts that haunted you all day, as they have been doing for the past week. Minho must have noticed that you were feeling gloomier than usual, a silent storm raging by his side, since he put up a romcom for you. “It made you laugh a lot when you watched it months ago.”

“How do you remember all of these things about me?” you ponder, scratching the fragile skin near your nails, easily torn, just like you. 

“Does it make you uncomfortable? Should I stop?” he asks quietly, deflecting your question.

“No,” you say the truth. “It'd be weird if you were an actual stranger, but… you knew me. And I knew you. and I still feel safe around you.” 

He nods silently, but something in his gaze compels you to keep talking. 

“I mean, I never felt uncomfortable around you these days, which surprised me too. I just… I suppose that even if my mind doesn’t remember, my heart does, in a way?”

“My heart will always remember you,” he whispers, gaze adrift in a faraway memory. 

A gear shifts in your mind, a sudden light flooding your vision. You find yourself within a grand canopy bed, its pure white curtains swaying to the rhythm of a whimsical breeze, their delicate fabric brushing lightly against your cheek. It’s slightly cold from the wide-open windows, but then it’s warm, as a gentle hand finds its place on your thigh, kindling an ember deep within, setting your very soul ablaze. 

The curtains sway with the wind, obscuring your view, but you can still discern the sound of your laughter, echoing like distant chimes. And a tenderness, so delicate it seemed almost otherworldly, trailing along your skin, as warmth caresses your cheek and gently traverses the curve of your collarbones, peppering it with the softest kisses. You can't quite behold it, but it is unmistakably there, an ineffable presence that threatens to burst your heart at the seams—a memory of your love for Minho.

It is a blurry sight, like peering into a worn-out photograph, its details softened by the sands of time. But you clutch to it- to your fading laughter and hushed conversation, and then your voice ringing clearly in your mind, the promise you made to Minho. 

'My heart will always remember you'. 

You startle back in a jolt; the light and warmth have extinguished. They are now dull, withered down, sitting next to you with their head hung low. 

It takes you an inhumane effort to swallow down the lump in your throat.

Day 16.

This week has been particularly cold. Not temperature-wise, October has always harbored these same frigid temperatures and you've gotten used to them, to the relentless winds brushing against your skin. Only this time they pierced right through your soul instead.

You knew what had changed. You had felt the sadness, the frustration, the guilt- all blending into one sorrowful symphony, pulling at your heartstrings the way one does to a harp. Yet, amid these familiar emotions, a new feeling loomed large this past week- anxiety.

It arrived in sudden, icy bursts, cold beads of perspiration cascading down your spine, feet suddenly freezing no matter how fuzzy your socks were- the physical telltales, then came the emotional ones. The shadows of dread, for we fear the unseen more than that which we can touch. The growing panic gnawing at your heart, hinting that something profoundly disastrous lurked on the horizon.

Anxiety held you suspended in the air, bound by invisible ropes that compelled you to watch from above as the days drifted past you. You were a ghost haunting an empty shell, hollow and resonant with anxiety's clang, akin to an empty can's descent to the ground.

Your appetite had fled, leaving you alone to grapple with the chore of feeding yourself, mechanically ingesting food only to pacify Minho’s concerned gaze. The TV’s volume blared, since you desperately needed the voices of other people to invade your mind, to render your thoughts merciless, forcing them to put their sword-like tongues down.

And the exhaustion, not accounted to your broken ribs, for Minho had meticulously overseen their recovery. It was an emotional fatigue, a weariness that clung to your every breath, trapping them within your ribcage, far beyond their time, until they tethered on the brink of exploding in your lungs- a supernova of darkness devouring your essence. Only then did the breaths release their hold on you.

So, you patiently awaited the inevitable unraveling, because you knew this wasn’t an ordinary anxiety. Your soul whispered to you in a language your mind could no longer translate, throbbing with a message you couldn’t quite recollect, striving urgently to jog your memory of a monumental truth.

But you didn’t remember– you should have.

You should've known it was Minho’s birthday.

It is near midnight when you venture out of your room, the inflatable bed by your side unusually vacant. A dim glow draws you to the kitchen, and as you stand by its entrance, an intensified cold grips you. It chills the blood in your veins, transforming it into splintered shards that prick uncomfortably beneath your skin.

Minho is sitting by the table, a small, muted cake before him, a shoebox by his side. A solitary candle flickers in front of his face, casting elongating shadows on his chiseled features. The flame is about to fizzle out- you feel like your heart will closely follow suit.

"Minho..." you call out gently, careful not to startle him from the trance ensnaring him. He doesn't react to the sound of your voice.

"Minho, I…"

"Today was my birthday."

His tone is cold, like the darkening clouds before a stormy night. His words feel like lightning bolts piercing your core.

"It would be stupid to blow this candle out, wouldn't it? Because you and I both know my wish won't come true. Maybe it never will. And it's killing me, yn." His voice quivers as it utters your name, a slight shake taking over his lips. His cheeks are tear stained- glimmering reflections under the golden flame. You've never seen him this sad. You don't know how to comfort him in his sadness.

A rush of nausea overwhelms your being, a yearning to expel every emotion, methodically, until your heart transforms into a tranquil organ, solely pulsing life's crimson essence through your frame. Nothing more, nothing less.

"This shoe box is yours. You kept it under the bed, filled it with everything that reminded you of me. You told me..." he pauses, taking in a deep breath. "You told me that you wanted to remember everything about us, every single detail. But I... I don't care if you don't remember every date we went to. I just-" his forehead rests on his palm, as he squeezes his eyes shut. "I just want you to remember that you love me."

Hot tears are rolling across his cheeks, splattering across the table like a broken mosaic. He doesn't try to hide them or wipe them away. He's had enough.

"Minho, I’m-"

"I mean- that's not too much to ask for, right?" he finally lifts his head, locking his eyes with yours. A black abyss, a dark void. You are the one who sucked out all the light.

"You- you said you loved me. And I- I felt it, y/n, when you looked at me, when you touched me. I felt it, it wasn't- it wasn't just words, I-" he pauses, running a hand through his hair, tugging at his black locks furiously. "You loved me," his voice breaks. "Why- why can't you remember that you loved me?"

Your tongue bursts to flame in your mouth, its grey ashes choking you from within. What could you even say? How do you stop the bleeding of a heart when you carry knives for fingers?

Minho abruptly stands up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. "We talked about marriage, a-about kids, you said- you said you'd choose me to be the father of your children, you said you wanted a big house w-with me and you-” he points at you, chest heaving, eyes rimmed red. “You said you wanted us to sit at the patio when we're eighty and you wanted us to hold hands still," he chuckles bitterly, his arms falling limp by his side incredulously. "And now you don't even remember me."

He grabs the box, rummaging through its contents furiously. "You see this?" he waves dried flowers before your eyes, their petals falling to the floor from the force of his agitation. "These are the flowers I got you for our first date. You dried them and put them here because you- you said you wanted to preserve it, to remember."

"And this, the cinema tickets from our first movie date. You were so tired you just slept on my shoulder all the time and then I- I carried you home and you kissed me." He's growing more frantic, rifling through the shoe box in a frenzy. You remain rooted by the kitchen's entrance, a sense of powerlessness holding you captive, an unbreakable vice around your being.

"This is the napkin from our favorite cat café, and look," he grabs your hand, clammy palm pressed to yours, pulling you toward the table." This is the receipt of the first time we went grocery shopping together and-" he waves it in the air, before slamming it onto the table. "And, you e-even kept this stupid rock I gave you right before I told you I love you for the first time, because you said it was the happiest day of your life, my god Yn how can you not remember?"

A broken, sob-laden chuckle escapes his lips, a sound so heart wrenchingly human, so painfully poignant that for an instant, it fills you with a bitter aversion to your own humanity- it was never meant to inflict this much pain upon someone else.

Your thoughts shatter as Minho tenderly cups your face, urging you to confront his turbulent gaze. He seeks something within your eyes, and you desperately hope he'd find it, whatever it may be, anything to stop the tremor in his hands as they anchor you in place.

"Why did you- why did you keep all of this if not to remember me.” He asks, unblinking, lip quivering. “Please, please, remember me, just- just try, okay?"

"I’m so sorry-"

"No. No. Don't- don't apologize like it's final like you could never love me again," his hands glide to your shoulders, shaking you slightly in place. "Don't you understand? I-I don't want an apology I want you to remember me."

"Minho..."

"Just look through this, it's our happiest memories y/n, okay?" he let goes of you, circling the table before shoving the box into your hands. He smiles- attempts to, it is an unnatural presence amidst his tears, so out of place it sends shivers down your spine. "Look at it, yn, please," he pleads as your hold on the box falters. "I can’t remember us alone. I’m crushing under the weight of everything we lived it’s exhausting me!"

His voice ascends pitch, the end of his words hanging into the air, searing themselves into the particles you breathe. His voice leaves a painful echo on his trail. You’re exhausting him.

You put the box down, taking three cautious step forwards.

And then you hug Minho.

He can't even hold you back, body trembling with the sobs rippling through him as soon as your chest presses to his. He sinks to the floor and you follow suit, arms enfolding his concaved shoulders tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Im sorry, I'm so sorry Minho. I- I wish I could remember."

You want the kitchen to collapse upon itself. There is too much grief in such a small room- it stains the walls like blood droplets, absorbs his cries like a saturated sponge.

You don’t think you could ever sit at this table again.

He finally clasps your back, drawing you even nearer to him. "Can- can you pretend, just today, please? For my birthday. Pretend you still love me."

"Of course. It's okay, I’m here, honey. I'm here."

"I love you. I love you so much," he whispers, lips pressed against your neck. "And it hurts to love you, so much." He brings your hand to his heart. "It hurts so much right here."

He doesn't let go of your hand, softly caressing your knuckles. His breath hitches as his thumb hovers over your ring finger. "I... I was going to propose, you know? I even bought the ring, stored it away for when the time is right. Do you think you would have remembered if you woke up wearing it?"

He knows your answer would've been yes. You know that too, in the matching cat mugs and the book annotations and the way Minho gently held your face, even in the depths of his despair. Everywhere you look, your answer echoes back- yes, the home chants in unison, that's what you would've said. Yes, yes, yes.

Day 17.

In the cracks of concrete sidewalks, tenacious flowers manage to sprout. Just how in the depths of Minho’s pain, small joys bloomed, nestled in the vacant spaces between you and him. 

You'd greet him each time he opened the door, your voice resonating through the apartment like the sweetest sonnet. And he would always pause by the doorknob, basking in the sound of your voice that hadn’t changed in the slightest. Your tone still held that same dulcet timber, a golden honey that once dripped freely upon his soul. 

But today, Minho swung open the door and an eerie hush greeted him instead. He ventured in, calling after you, only to be met with utter silence. He anxiously checked the rooms, opening the doors hastily one by one. But you weren't there. You weren't home. 

Minho felt the familiar tendrils of worry coiling around his heart, constricting it with each passing moment. He quickly grabbed his phone, dialing your number, only to fall into your voicemail, the robotic voice chilling him to the core.

In the past two weeks, you had made sure to text Minho each time you went outside- a precaution you took due to your fractured ribs which came with frequent fits of dizziness. It was a safety measure for one person, at least, to know where you are. 

But you didn't text him today. And he had no idea where you might’ve gone to. 

Minho tried to suck in a deep breath, willing the fear to relinquish its icy grip on his body so he could think properly. Maybe you had simply forgotten, he reasoned. Yet, he knew that you never back out on your promises. They were sacred for you since they were once senselessly broken.

For the second time in a mere three weeks, Minho’s deepest fears unfurl like a nightmare before him, ensnaring him in a tapestry woven with the bloody threads of everything that went wrong yesterday. 

He carried his shame akin to heavy bricks on his shoulders, causing them to hunch forward- a coward, leaving the house before you even rose, and on his trail, your breakfast and a hastily written note. He couldn’t fathom eating at that kitchen table with you, not when his sobs still echoed around those sage walls, as did your quiet voice as you tried to soothe his cries, holding him between your tender arms. 

Minho was scared. He was terrified you’d never come back home after everything that had happened, the words he said and the way he pleaded, nearly at your feet, consumed by a sadness grander than anything he’s ever known. 

So, he storms out of the apartment in a hurry, scouring the nearby playground. But you aren’t there. The grocery store is next, the library, the flower shop, the cat café tucked in a corner that you may have stumbled on. 

You were still nowhere to be found.

A dreadful sense of foreboding overcame him, akin to how he felt when his phone rang two weeks prior- the unfamiliar number of the hospital shining before his eyes. What if something happened to you, a fit of dizziness but no one was around to help? Life doesn’t grant you a second chance. No one has ever brushed against death’s shoulder twice and lived to tell the tale. What if he receives another call? 

He couldn’t survive another call.  

Minho stands in the midst of the road, clutching his head with a tight grip, desperately searching his memory for the places that once brought you solace during the months he spent knowing you. However, he quickly remembers that you no longer know of those places.

So where could you have gone? 

An epiphany dawns upon Minho- the bridge you had pointed out to him from a distance on one of your walks, the first place you claimed as your own in the city. It towered above the ocean, suspended several meters in the air. He couldn't accompany you there that day, bound by a paralyzing fear of heights.

He prays with all his might that he's right. 

He dashes towards the bridge akin to a madman, the desperate rhythm of his pounding feet mirroring the urgency in his heart. It looms tantalizingly close, a mere 15 minutes away, and Minho, in a state of disarray, knows he's not fit to drive right now. He was never fond of running, he didn't enjoy the searing ache in his lungs, robbing him of his ability to breathe. But he welcomes the pain today- it means that he's running fast enough to reach you. He hopes, he prays.

Minho spots you from a distance, a mere silhouette standing at the bridge's edge, your figure unmistakable with the red scarf tightly wound around your neck. Relief nearly brings him to his knees - you're alive.

Minho doesn't think as he sprints to you, eyes solely focused on you and not the void beneath his feet.

"Yn!" he calls out from afar, and you startle, snapping your head back to look at him. He wonders what he must look at you, disheveled hair, the wind knocking down his jean jacket. But he doesn't care. 

Minho stands before you without pause, instantly pulling you into the shelter of his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling the familiar smell of your shampoo, a constant through the months of knowing you. He clings to it, to the familiarity of your scent and the way your heartbeat seems to pour from your body to his, speaking in a language only your souls can comprehend. His arms clutch at you tightly, rugged breaths escaping his body, dew tears gathering in his eyes and dropping down your shoulders. 

Your arms hang limp by your side, confusion etched across your face at the urgency, the frenzy in which he pulled you to his chest, an emotion you hadn’t known in him in these past weeks.

You tentatively raise your hands, patting his back slowly. "Minho, what’s wrong?" you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"You weren't home. I- I thought something happened to you." 

"No, I just went on a walk and lost track of time," you reassure him and he pulls away, warm hands cradling your cheeks. 

"You're okay, right? Tell me you're okay," he pleads and you smile, nodding your head. “I'm okay, don’t worry.” 

Minho drops your face, embarrassment flooding his being at his outburst. It morphs to panic as he realizes the expanse beneath—nothing but the vast ocean, the wind slamming into his body, making him lose his footing.

"Are... you okay?" you ask cautiously. "Minho, you're shaking," you point out, a frown tugging at your lips. "Are you cold?" 

He stays silent, unable to place a word beyond the stutter of his lips. 

"Here," you hurriedly unwrap your red scarf, enclosing it around his neck. "You're shivering, Minho," you grab his hands, rubbing his fingers, blowing warmth into them, an attempt to kindle fire into him.

"I'm not- not cold. I- I’m scared of heights," he admits through a stutter, eyes tightly closed. 

"Then why are you here?" You ask, surprised. 

"Because you are." 

His confession comes out quietly, softened by the blow of his fear. His eyes remain closed, missing the tears gathering in your eyes, the ones you swiftly try to blink away. 

"Let's go, just keep your eyes closed. Hold my hand," you entwine your fingers with his, squeezing it lightly to signal you're there, as you walk across the bridge. 

You don't let go until you finally regain solid ground. 

"You're safe. you can open your eyes," you say quietly. 

"You're okay, right?" he inquires again, stepping closer.

"Why are you asking me this when you're the one shaking?" you chuckle, almost exasperated, nothing funny in the sound.

"I was worried about you, and I thought you left… after yesterday."

"Why would you- My god Minho why would you even come running across this bridge? Why would you do something like that when you're afraid?"

"Because I love you," his voice is resolute, soft as a whisper, as he states a simple truth. It only makes yours reach new heights.

"But why- why do you love me? Why would you still love me after everything I put you through?" 

"You didn't put me through anything," he shakes his head, and you take a step back, facing away from him. He can see your body heaving up and down, the weight of unspoken words making your heartbeat race. And then you snap. 

"You broke down yesterday," you pivot back, pointing at his chest. "You broke down in my arms because of me. Why would you still love me after all this Minho I don't- I don't understand." 

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I know I probably made you uncomfortable and I shouldn't have asked something like that out of you-" 

"No, no, Minho, you don't understand, you shouldn't apologize, I should. I’m the one who hurt you-"

"You didn't hurt me. It's something out of your control, you didn't choose this." 

“Stop- just stop being so nice and understanding for a minute. I don’t deserve it!" you shout exasperated, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. "You can't look me in the eyes half of the time you can't even fucking breathe in your own home. It's now a- a cemetery for our memories and it'll soon become yours too because I suck the life out of you, can't you see that?" 

"I'm not asking you to remember me,” he holds his hands up, in surrender, “I was wrong yesterday, you don't have to remember us." 

"There is no us!” you yell, hands thrown in the air, “Not anymore, Minho, maybe never."

You suck in a deep breath, shutting your eyes, willing your voice to ebb and flow into calmness. 

"I thought about it. It'll hurt less if you don't see me, time will pass and you'll get used to it, I'm not worth this."

"You are,” he interjects. “You don't get to pick for me, Yn." 

"Stop- stop talking like this is normal, stop being so complacent with your pain, Minho you shouldn't love someone who hurts you!"

"Then make me stop loving you. Spare me. Tear open my heart and bleed it dry at your feet or else it won't stop beating for you. Don't you understand? If you are near or if you are far, I will still love you. The only difference is that I'd worry more about you. I'd worry if you're eating, I'd worry if you're taking your medicine, I'd worry if you're drinking out of your favorite cup or if you have a spare shampoo in your drawer because you hate running out of it. I'd worry out of my fucking mind, Yn don't leave." 

It had been an encompassing sadness that made his true feelings surge yesterday, breaching the myriad of cracks in his heart. But today, it was fear that cast a revealing light upon his feelings, hidden in the recesses of his being. They surged forth in a transparency you were still not used to, the way the ocean throws on its shores the debris of sunken ships, allowing the grieving families of sailors to finally discover the terrible truth.

Still, his honesty, his soul bare at your mercy isn’t enough to make you stay.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just... I can't- I'm sorry."

You take three steps back, before turning your back to him and walking away. A numbness, like icy talons, seizes his limbs, his gaze fixated on your diminishing figure—carrying away everything he's ever loved. Paralysis envelopes his very essence, a haunting realization that the distance between you is more than a mere physical space. You're vanishing beyond the horizon of his reach, slipping through his desperate grasp. The fear of never seeing you again fractures the stillness, snapping Minho out of his trance.

"To love someone is firstly to confess, I'm prepared to be devastated by you." He shouts, making you pause in your tracks. "Isn't that your favorite quote, Yn? You told me this is what love is about. To place your heart in the palm of the person you love. And your hands are soft, Yn. I don't mind if I'm bruised by them." 

"I lied then!” You yell back, tears cascading down your cheeks akin to a waterfall, “Belcourt lied and I lied when I told you this and when I promised that I'd always remember you in that canopy bed-"

"What did you just say?” Minho quickly walks to you, chest heaving. “What canopy bed?"

“It doesn't matter now,” you speak in a small voice, avoiding his eyes, seeking refuge in the ground beneath. Yet, Minho, gentle and determined, cups your face, guiding your gaze to meet his.

“It matters to me, Yn, please. What do you mean?"

“We were in that white canopy bed, when I told you that my heart would always remember you.” 

“We were,” he whispers, eyes glazed over as the memory washes over him too. “Did you remember?”

“Not clearly, it was really hazy in my mind. But I remember that the windows were open, I was supposed to feel cold but… your hands on me, and they were warm. And I…” you suck in a deep breath and Minho smiles encouragingly, running his thumb in a tender caress across your cheek. 

“I remember feeling that I loved you,” you finally confess. “Even though I couldn’t see you. That's why I said that I'd always remember you. Because you filled every chamber in my heart, so much that it'd still hold your name even if you left it…that's how I felt.” You pause, as Minho forcibly swallows the lump down his throat. 

“But it didn't unlock any new memories and I-”

“It's okay, it’s okay. You still remembered,” he smiles and the gesture brings you to his lips, rosy, plump. Were they still as warm? Still as soft? 

“I did…” you trail off. “You also kissed me, in my memory. Your lips were everywhere and… they were soft.” You add quietly, eyes fixated on his mouth, the smile that once adorned it slipping away. 

A tentative warmth courses through your being, a subtle blaze that ignites your cheeks in a shade of crimson. In this moment, a need unfurls within you, a yearning that eclipses the delicate boundaries of restraint. The memory of his lips on your skin becomes a beacon, standing tall amidst the tumultuous winds of uncertainty. You want to taste the warmth again. You want to kiss Minho.

“I kissed you.” His hands, once gentle on your cheeks, now slip down with purpose, cradling your jaw in a gesture that speaks of both reassurance and longing.

“You did.” 

“And my lips were soft,” he repeats, his red scarf brushing against your throat. 

"They were," you respond, breathless. His mouth stands electrifyingly close, a mere hairbreadth away, as you contemplate the simple act of tilting your head, closing the tantalizing gap. All that stands between you and the echoes of the love that was is the lift of your head, a movement that could breathe life into the dormant embers of your heart.

"Yn," Minho speaks softly, his words a gentle brush against the canvas of your shared vulnerability. His minty breath tickles your nose, as you hum, a wordless acknowledgment that hangs in the air. Your eyes remain closed, your heart beating loudly in your ears, drowning out the sound of the waves nearby.

“Use me. Use me to remember.”

[genshinluvr]

Where I Truly Belong

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Your arrival at Teyvat was sudden and you thought you'd be welcome with open arms and new friendship. However, you were terribly wrong. You were ignored, threatened, and chased out of the regions in Teyvat. One day, on the heart island outside of Liyue, a portal opens and an opportunity is given to you. An opportunity where you have power and control over fate. Perhaps this is where you truly belong.

Note: This fic mainly focuses on the reader, so not a lot of Genshin men will be speaking in this overall fic unless it's something huge. I don't know how I feel about this story. I have come to the conclusion that I suck ass at writing the main character as a villain. I thought this fic was going to be longer, but I think it's best to cut it short because I'm not sure where it's going, and leaving it as where it ended is good. This is my first attempt at writing a villain!reader, and I think it's decent-ish for my first time. Again, you guys might think it sucks ass and honestly, understandable if you do think it sucks. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets impaled, mentions of blood, failed depictions of villainous reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Part 2 of Where I Truly Belong is [HERE].

The day you arrived at Teyvat, you were alone. The familiar faces of the characters you loved were nowhere to be found. You assumed they were going to try to find you and perhaps help you adjust to their world, but you were wrong. No one searched for you; therefore, you searched for them instead. When you found the beloved characters you love before being thrown into Teyvat, they ignored you. Even if they recognized you or had this sense of familiarity when seeing your face among the crowd, they continued on with their day as if you were never there. 

You run toward Aether, grabbing him by the wrist. “Aether! I finally found you! I—”

Aether yanks his wrist from your grasp, gazing at you like you had just grown two heads. Your heart drops to your chest, watching the blond man take a step back while the floating girl beside him gazes at you warily. Aether doesn’t say anything, and neither does Paimon.

“Do you know this person, Traveler?” Paimon asks, floating closer to Aether. 

Aether shakes his head. “I don’t know them, Paimon. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong person,” Aether states firmly, almost glaring at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat after hearing Aether’s response. Before you can say anything, a voice from a distance calls out to Aether and Paimon. You, Aether, and Paimon turn to see Lumine running toward the three of you with a big smile while Dainsleif follows behind.

Lumine stops in her tracks. “There you two are! I can’t believe you two ran off like that! I don’t understand how you and Dainsleif were traveling companions,” Lumine huffs, propping her hands on her hips.

“I was more of his babysitter, making sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Dainsleif snorts, rolling his eyes when Aether grumbles incoherent words while Lumine and Paimon snicker.

You clear your throat. Lumine and Dainsleif look at you for a brief moment before Lumine loops her arms around Aether’s left arm, pulling him elsewhere with Paimon and Dainsleif following behind, leaving you standing in the middle of the field alone. Dark stormy clouds roll in, and you’re immediately soaked to the bone, watching the four figures get smaller and smaller. The four figures soon became blurry— you’re not sure if it’s because of the pouring rain or if it’s because of your tears. At this point, it’s hard for you to tell the difference between the two. 

You decided to stop by Mondstadt after meeting Aether, Lumine, Dainsleif, and Paimon. Once you reached the City of Freedom, you took shelter and made sure you weren’t entering the city looking like a soaked rat. After the sky clears up and you’re not soaked to the bone, you enter t the vast city. You thought the people of Mondstadt would be nicer when they see you, but you’re wrong. Huffman and Sara from Good Hunter are friendly people. However, people who have visions are the opposite. You tried talking to Albedo, Venti, Diluc, and Kaeya. Still, they all ignored you or acted like you were a crazy person.

“I believe you have one too many dandelion wines,” Kaeya chuckles, leaning against the counter at Angel's Share, nursing wine in his hands. 

Venti is sprawled over the counter at Angel's Share. You can practically see birds flying around his head. The poor Bard is not only drunk, but he’s also mumbling incoherently. Diluc sighs, cleaning the cup before tending to his duties around the tavern.

Diluc mumbles, “They’re not a customer, Kaeya.”

Venti scoots over to the Chief Alchemist, whispering loudly to the man, “Is it just me, or does this strange person look like they were fished out of Cider Lake?”

Albedo looks at you for a brief moment before gazing back at his sketch pad, not saying a word to the Bard. Even though none of them have outwardly shown you they don’t want you in Angel’s Share, you know from the way they look away from you and act around you they don’t want you in the same building as them. So, you gather up your things and leave the tavern. You’re used to being alone in your world, and seeing the people you adore treat you like you didn’t exist hurts. 

“Maybe the next region won’t be so bad,” you tell yourself.

Liyue is interesting. When you step into the beautiful region ruled by the Geo Archon, you are met with a polearm pointing at your throat. Xiao stands before you, glaring daggers at you with such distaste that it nearly made you want to skip Liyue altogether. 

“Outsiders are not welcomed to Liyue,” Xiao spats.

You know the Yaksha before you is doing his job to protect the region once ruled by the Geo Archon, but the way he gazes at you with such… hatred… made you second guess your presence in Liyue. 

You clear your throat. “I thought adventurers are welcomed to Liyue, Xiao,” you whisper, hands shaking at your side.

Xiao glares at you, not saying a word. Oh. When Xiao said that outsiders aren’t welcome in Liyue, he meant you. You’re not welcome to Liyue, not because you’re not an adventurer or a tourist from another region visiting the City of Contracts. It’s because you’re not from Teyvat. But even if you’re not from Teyvat, Aether, Dainsleif, Paimon, and Lumine aren’t even from Teyvat either. However, they’re still welcomed with open arms. 

“I won’t cause any harm, I promise. Is it a crime to walk into a region? I don’t have any weapons on me, nor do I pose a threat,” you say.

You dig into your pockets and hold your hands up to show Xiao you have no weapon on you. Xiao reluctantly points the polearm in the opposite direction of you and stares at you. You sigh in relief and walk past the Conquerer of Demons. In Mondstadt, no one pointed their weapons at you. In Liyue, though? You can’t really get upset with Xiao over it, really. All he’s doing is his duty to protect Liyue from danger.

When you step into Liyue Harbor, you stop in your tracks and look at the beautiful city. The City of Contracts is full of life, and the chatter of the citizens fills the once-silent air. After the encounter with the four outlanders, the men of Mondstadt and Xiao, you can't help but hesitate to continue further into the city. You know the Yaksha is watching your every move like a hawk. You don't necessarily blame him, but the encounter with Xiao made you hesitate.

Should you continue further into the City of Contracts? Or will the not-so-deceased Geo Archon make you face the wrath of the rock for stepping into his beloved city? Your hands shake at your sides, making you swallow the lump in your throat. You take a deep breath and continue into the city, making sure not to bump into a green-haired doctor and the former Geo Archon. You don't have anything against them, but they might have something against you, like how Xiao does when you step foot into the region. You stand in the middle of the city, staring at nothing. Why did you continue to venture into the City of Contracts?

You searched for the familiar faces from a beloved game you loved so much back in your world, only for them not to like you. It was a rude awakening, and you're unsure of why they treat you this way when you have never met them— nor did you plan on meeting the characters you have always loved. Someone bumps into you, causing you to stumble forward and snap out of your thoughts.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” you say, turning to look at the person that bumped into you before freezing up.

“Why am I the one apologizing when I wasn’t the one that bumped into him?”

The ginger-haired Harbinger glares at you. “Next time, don't stand there and take up space,” Childe hisses, shoving past you and purposefully bumping your shoulders.

You rub your shoulders, watching the ginger Harbinger approach a certain Geo Archon, his demeanor changing almost instantly as he greets the Archon happily. 

You press your lips into a thin line before turning around and walking away. As you walk away, Zhongli looks at Childe quizzically. Childe dusts his clothes and props his hands on his hips, sighing and acting like nothing had happened. Once you're out of view, Zhongli turns to Childe.

“Childe? Is that who I think it is?” Zhongli murmurs, stroking his chin.

Childe scoffs, continuing not to know who you are even though he's very well aware. Childe nudges the Geo Archon to follow him to the restaurant where he, Zhongli, and Doctor Baizhu will be having dinner. Baizhu shakes his head, walking beside the Geo Archon.

“Just to let you know, you're a little bit harsh on them despite you being the one that bumped into them,” Baizhu mutters, shaking his head with disapproval.

Childe rolls his eyes and changes the subject as the two men arrive at the Liuli Pavilion. Meanwhile, you sit outside of the city of Liyue, hugging your knees to your chest. You made a massive mistake of seeking out these people that you adored in your world. You should've started a different life in Teyvat, living among the citizens of Teyvat and living in solitude. But of course, you being you, you decided to seek these people out, only to be disappointed in the end. 

You still have Inazuma and Sumeru to explore and visit. However, you want to avoid stepping foot in the two other regions after what happened with the outlanders, the men of Mondstadt, Xiao, and Childe. You have yet to meet Zhongli and Baizhu, so you can't make a judgment on how they would treat you upon meeting for the first time. But if Xiao reacted in such a way when you entered Liyue, who knows how Zhongli and Baizhu would react?

You nearly forgot how fast time passes in Teyvat. One minute it was the afternoon, and when you blink, the sun is already setting. Technically, time doesn't change in a blink of an eye, but it does feel like it in Teyvat. You close your eyes and rest your head on your knees. Would visiting Inazuma and Sumeru hurt? You're not going to try to meet the beloved characters you know and love. You want to see the architecture and city up close. 

And that is what you did. You went to the two regions, made sure to avoid bumping into any familiar faces, and somewhat succeeded. However, it lasted only a short time when Itto and Scaramouche brought awareness to your presence in Sumeru and Inazuma. So, you left the two regions in a hurry, and now you're on this little heart island far out of Liyue, sitting at the edge of the island.

You bury your feet into the sand, watching the waters crash to shore and wet the sand above your feet. You wiggle your toes and shield your eyes from the sun. A large portal suddenly opens beside you, making you jump and stumble back. A tall Abyss Lector emerges from the portal, arms open and hovering toward you.

“Stay back!” You scream, grabbing the nearest object to use as a weapon.

The Abyss Lector cackles and stops before you, leaving a reasonable distance between you two. The Abyss Lector continues to stare at you in silence as if waiting for you to calm down. You take a step back. The Abyss Lector crosses their arms over their chest, chest rumbling with laughter. 

“What do you want from me?” You whisper.

“Watching you try and fail over and over is pathetic,” says the Abyss Lector.

You stare at the being before you blankly. Oh, so the Abyss Lector has been watching you try to befriend the beloved heroes of each region with mirth. Yeah, you would be doing the same thing if you weren't, well, you. You cross your arms over your chest and sigh as a sense of dread falls over you. You're alone in this heart island with the Abyss Lector, probably their next target aside from Teyvat and the Archons.

“If you're going to insult me, can you do it after you kill me? It'll save me from the embarrassment,” you mutter.

The Abyss Lector howls with laughter, head thrown back, shoulders bouncing. “Kill you? I have a proposition for you, and you are to decide whether you want to do it or not,” says the Abyss Lector.

You can't help but be wary of the Abyss Lector. While the Abyss Lector has yet to harm you, the Abyss has caused catastrophic harm in the past. You decide to listen to the Abyss Lector's proposition. The Abyssal creature went on a ten-minute tangent about the offer and would answer many of your pressing questions. To your surprise, the Abyss Lector was patient with your questions and had no issues with you not understanding certain parts of the proposition. You're grateful the Abyss Lector didn't attack you upon first meeting you— technically, the Abyss Lector created a portal near you on the heart island outside of Liyue.

“So? Do we have a deal or no deal?” asks the Abyss Lector, holding their hands out.

You press your lips into a thin line. Is this really what you want to do? You can’t turn your back on the people you adore. However, with how they treated you…. Does it really matter at this point? 

You furrow your eyebrows, nodding. “I accept your offer,” you say, placing your hand in the Abyss Lector's hand.

The Abyss Lector claps their hands. “Wonderful! Please, step into the portal, and we shall start our journey together,” says the Abyss Lector.

The Abyss Lector lets out a cackle and opens the portal. You and the Abyss Lector step into the portal, sealing your fate. Time flies in the Abyss— three days on Teyvat is three months in the Abyss. You didn't mind the drastic change of time and how fast time flies by in the Abyss. It took some time, but you were able to get used to it. Because you're not from Teyvat or from their universe, you mapped out the areas on Teyvat for the Abyss Order to target. You didn't have to do the attacking and invading like the Abyss Herald, Abyss Lectors, and other Abyssal creatures. All you have to do is sit on the throne and tell them what to do.

You sit on the throne in the Abyss, leaning on your right arm and watching the Abyssal creatures roam around. As the ruler of the Abyss Order, there wasn't much for you to do. Sometimes you would embark on your journey to Teyvat with the Abyss Lector, witnessing the damage being done to Teyvat. Usually, you would feel anger and sadness when the Abyss Order is harming the citizens of Teyvat and wanting to inflict harm on the Archons, but now? You could care less about what is being done to the people of Teyvat and their Archons.

“Your Highness, it's time,” says the Abyss Lector, kneeling at the foot of the throne.

This isn't the first time you'll be visiting Teyvat while the Abyss Order is running amock on Teyvat. But for some reason, you can't help but feel anxious about visiting Teyvat. The Abyss Lector, named Agnarr, holds their hand out for you to take. You take a deep breath and grab Agnarr's hand. Egill levitates forward, nodding. The two Abyss Lectors lead you out of the throne room of the Abyss, opening the portal to Teyvat.

Sumeru is on fire— literally. You and the two Abyss Lectors stand afar, watching the citizens of Sumeru scream and scramble out of the city while it's engulfed in flames. You see familiar faces running to the farthest part of Sumeru, but you pay no attention. Other Abyss Lectors and Heralds open various portals around Sumeru City, floating toward the Great Tree. Abyss Mages emerge out of thin air, cackling and attacking those they see.

“What do you think, Your Highness?” asks Enjou, appearing out of thin air, startling you.

You press your hand against your racing heart and take a deep breath. You turn to Enjou, glaring at the Pyro Abyss Lector, who cackles after seeing your reaction. You huff and glare at Enjou, who is now levitating before you with his arms over his chest. Enjou has the tendency to scare the crap out of you at every chance he gets. On the other hand, Agnarr and Egill aren't fond of the idea of Enjou popping on and out of places to get a reaction out of you.

You take a deep breath. “Enjou, can you please stop doing that?” You ask.

Enjou hums. “Hmmm, I don't think I can do that, Your Highness. It's my job to make sure you're stealthy and always alert! Who knows, someone could attack you while we're not at your side,” Enjou says nonchalantly. 

“They needn't worry about their safety when they're with us,” Agnarr hisses at Enjou.

Egill scoffs, crossing their arms over their chest. “As if we'd let them be in harm's way. Those who try to take the Abyss Order's Ruler shall fall and watch the world around them burn,” Egill hisses.

Enjou raises his hands, shaking his head. You sigh, turning back to the scene of the burning city of Sumeru. The screams and cries fill the chilly night, sending chills down your spine. It has taken you months to get used to hearing the anguished screams of the citizens of Teyvat, but the more you listen to it, the more you have gotten used to it. While you did not want to hurt the citizens of Teyvat and only specific people who have hurt you and turned you away, the Abyss Order spares no one. Not even children and animals.

“Burning down buildings and villages won't do much for the Abyss Order,” you murmur, stroking your chin. “We'll discuss this when we return to the Abyss.”

Agnarr, Enjou, and Egill nod their heads. You yawn as Egill opens a portal to the Abyss. The three Abyss Lectors all levitate toward the portal with you by their side. Before you can step into the portal, an arrow flies by your face, forcing you to come to a stop. Agnarr and Egill step in front of you to shield you from harm, glaring at the perpetrator. You peek from their arms to see what's going on, only to realize Enjou is standing in front of Agnarr and Egill, blocking the perpetrator's view of you.

“Who dares to try to harm their Highness!” Enjou growls, his hands bursting into flames.

You hear a familiar laugh— a bitter laugh that causes goosebumps to appear on your arms. Childe. 

“As if they weren't the ones that cause mass chaos on Teyvat,” Al Haitham hisses.

You peek from behind Agnarr's arms to see Al Haitham standing there, glaring at the three Abyss Lectors. Al Haitham isn't alone. In fact, he's accompanied by twenty-six familiar faces, along with Lumine and Paimon, standing beside her twin brother and Dainsleif. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You yawn dramatically, grabbing everyone's attention.

“If you're all finished with the dramatic entrance, I will be returning to my humble abode now,” you say with a blasé attitude.

Another arrow is shot, flying past your face and slicing your cheek open. You lightly touch the fresh cut on your cheek and gaze at the crimson blood on the tips of your fingers. You scoff, gazing at Gorou, who glares at you and bares his fangs, growling lowly. You wipe the blood on your clothes, shaking your head.

“Oh? So, you want to start something you can't finish?” You smirk bitterly. “Fine, have it your way, pests.”

Itto smirks. “Something we can't finish? I'm pretty sure you're the one that started something that you cannot finish!” Itto proclaims.

You prop your hands on your hips, glaring at the Oni. You cover your face with both hands briefly, sweeping your hands up and back your head, and your appearance changes instantly. Your eyes are bitch black, and the tips of your fingers are pitch black and dark blue with specs of glimmering stars that mimic the galaxy. A long cape similar to Dainsleif's drapes down your back and pools around your feet.

You close your eyes and begin muttering under your breath, your hair illuminating, and the shadows below you come to life, slithering toward your attackers. The first person to be snatched and dragged was Itto because of his annoying egotistical, and overly confident attitude. You hate how obnoxious he is, and he was once your favorite character from Inazuma due to his personality. 

But the longer you stay on Teyvat, the more you can't handle his loud personality. He reminds you too much of a particular person back in your world, and, quite frankly, hurting him will be another way of harming the person you knew in your world without actually harming them. Your patience and sanity have withered away, and you want to make them feel your wrath for how they have treated you since your arrival.

The shadowy tentacles wrap around Itto's ankles, yanking him up into the air before throwing him to the side. Itto lands on the ground with a hard thud, groaning in pain. You snicker and levitate in the air, crossing one leg over the other with your arms over your chest. A portal opens up behind you, and Dainsleif, Lumine, and Aether emerge from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You open the dirt ground, letting it swallow the four of you.

“How dare you attack the Ruler of the Abyss Order!” Enjou howls with anger, throwing balls of flames at your attackers.

Another portal opens beside Agnarr and Egill. You step out of the portal, dusting your clothes off with an infuriated sigh. Agnarr and Egill quickly whisk you away, opening up another portal. Scaramouche growls with anger, pointing at the portal as you, Agnarr, and Egill levitate away.

“They're getting away! Don't let them get away, dammit!” Scaramouche screams.

Xiao growls and appears before you in a blink of an eye and manages to kick you away from the two Abyss Lectors, sending you tumbling to the ground. You groan and kneel, looking up to see Xiao looming over you. Xiao clutches his jade spear so tight that he can snap it in half. The same jade spear you managed to get for him after blowing hundreds of dollars for that weapon on the damn weapon banner. Xiao raises his polearm up, preparing to impale you with his polearm. 

You wince and look away, bracing yourself to get impaled. You hear a loud squelch, a pained gasp, and an anguished scream. You turn to see Enjou's left hand sticking out of Xiao's chest— where his heart should be. You gulp and watch Enjou throw Xiao to the side, letting the Yaksha bleed out on the grass. Agnarr and Egill rush to you, pull you by your arm, and create a portal. The four of you soon fled the scene. 

“How disappointing. I wanted to see them all perish,” you sigh, plopping on your throne while rubbing your temples. “But it looks like I'll have to wait another day to witness the downfall.”

Agnarr comes forward. “Your Highness, are you alright?” asks Agnarr.

“I'm fine, Agnarr. I'm not physically harmed,” you murmur.

Egill gestures to your cheek. You subconsciously touch the wound on your cheek, feeling the stinging thin cut. It's a mere flesh wound, nothing more, nothing less. It's not like it can kill you unless it's laced with poison. If the arrowhead were to be laced with poison, you would've known immediately. It seems like this attack was more improvised than planned, given the fact how messy it turned out for the opposing side. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I'm fine, Egill. It's a mere cut. It won't kill me,” you murmur, brushing away Egill's concern.

The one thing you wish didn't happen was fleeing the scene so quickly. You wanted to watch the opposing side fall. You want to witness the bloodshed in Sumeru. Due to a certain Yaksha almost successfully slaying you, you had to be ushered immediately out of the battlefield and to safety.

“That Adeptus nearly killed you, your Highness. That is inexcusable, and he deserves every ounce of punishment from the Abyss Order,” Agnarr hisses.

You chuckle, shaking your head. It would be funny to see Xiao try and kill you. If he did manage to kill you successfully, the Ruler of the Abyss Order, then who knows how the Abyss Order will react. Watching the downfall of the Archons and the citizens of Teyvat is something you surely do not want to miss out on. 

“I agree with you, Agnarr. Those who intentionally try to harm the ruler of the Abyss Order shall fall and watch the world around them burn and crumble to the ground,” you nod.

After what happened today, you will not be returning to Teyvat until further notice. It's best to remain in the shadows while the Abyss Order does what you say from behind the scenes. In order to take down an entire region, aside from terrorizing the cities and its citizens, you need to take down the beloved Archons of each nation. But the question is: what Archon is going to be your first target? The Anemo Archon? The Geo Archon? The Electro Archon? The Dendro Archon? Heck, maybe the Hydro Archon? You have yet to step foot into the City of Justice, but seeing some familiar faces from her region makes your blood boil.

“What is on your mind, Your Highness?” Enjou asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Which Archons do you think is the most annoying?” You ask, getting up from your throne. 

The three Abyss Lectors gaze at you quizzically. While their faces are covered, you can tell they’re confused about what you’re implying. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure if you can pull it off, but it’s worth a try, right? Is kidnapping an Archon risky? You're the Ruler of the Abyss Order, for fucks sake. So you continued where you left off. 

“Now, I have yet to meet the Geo, Dendro, Hydro, and Electro Archon, so I can’t make a judgment on how annoying they are. However, I did meet the Anemo Archon and….” You trail off, face pinching up with disgust. “What I'm trying to say is let's kidnap an Archon,” you conclude, clapping your hands.

“The question is, who are we going to be kidnapping, your Highness?” Enjou asks.

Your first answer was to kidnap the dear Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. However, thinking back to your encounter with the said Archon, you sure as hell do not want to deal with him again. The first encounter was already enough for you, and the Bard doesn't seem like he would put up much of a fight. You want a challenge, and an Archon who is “deceased” would be the first step to go. Who would notice an Archon disappearing overnight? An Archon who isn't really dead.

That's how you find yourself standing before the Geo Archon in the ruins of Liyue. You could kidnap Zhongli and bring him to the Abyss, but you knew the Abyss would rapidly deteriorate his sanity, and you didn't want that. Yet. The Geo Archon is tied up against a tree in the Chasm, his mouth taped shut to prevent him from calling for a certain Yaksha. The Geo Archon stares at you emotionlessly.

“The citizens of Liyue aren't the brightest. Assuming their God is dead when he's roaming among them, alive and well,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We never met, and I deeply apologize for this being our first meeting.”

Is it really your first time meeting Zhongli? Zhongli was there when you, Agnarr, Egill, and Enjou were in Sumeru, watching the city burn to the ground. Though, he did not attack you like how the others have tried to attack you. You weren't sure if the Geo Archon had something up his sleeves, but you can't help but feel satisfied with how easy it was to kidnap the Geo Archon. It's almost too easy for your liking.

Zhongli glares at you as you approach him. You grab the tape from the corner and peel it off Zhongli’s lips so he can speak. It’s not like Zhongli is going to call out the name of the short Yaksha to save him. A Geo Archon like himself doesn’t need a savior. Zhongli can get himself out of this situation without an issue, and you’re surprised to see Zhongli not fighting back. Would Zhongli stand a chance against three Abyss Lectors in the corner, watching his every move?

“I see you're the new Ruler of the Abyss. Such a shame to see someone not of this universe become something that destroys the world they once loved,” Zhongli says nonchalantly.

You smirk at Zhongli bitterly. “Once loved, Zhongli. What's there to love when all I've been receiving is hate and being treated like I wasn't human? Your little Yaksha nearly killed me when I first stepped into Liyue,” you hiss, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the palm of your hands.

You didn't want to become those cliche villains who talk the victim's ears off— talking about your tragic background and how you became who you are. But here you are, talking the Geo Archon's ears off about how you were treated when you encountered the people who did you wrong. You wanted to meet the characters— the people— you adored, but you were cast aside. 

Heck, even the hilichurls and mitachurls treated you better than how the Archons and prominent figures of Teyvat treated you. The citizens of Teyvat treat you no differently. They went along with their day and would glance at you every now and then when you visited the cities. They treated you better than those who had visions. And yet here you are, burning down their homes, crops, and businesses all because of a small handful of people making you feel unwelcomed and unsafe when stepping into their nation.

“I'm going to be generous and not kill you. However, I do want something from you, and it's not your gnosis. Your gnosis is useless to me,” You say, standing before the (former) Geo Archon.

Zhongli stares at you, not saying a word. You sigh with disappointment. You don't know how much longer you can take this. Seeing the Geo Archon before you, tied up and defenseless, is fun, but at the same time, it's pathetic. Then again, you would rather be stuck in the same room as Zhongli than the Bard you met in Mondstadt. You squat before Zhongli and grab him by his hair to make him look at you.

“And what is it do you want?” Zhongli asks through clenched jaws. 

Just when you open your mouth to tell him what you want, a polearm pierces you through the chest. You tighten your grip on Zhongli's hair, gasping in pain. You look down to see the blade of Zhongli's vortex vanquisher buried deep in your chest cavity. You release Zhongli and stumble back, hands shaking as you grab the polearm. Zhongli glares down at you, his amber eyes glowing with hate and anger. 

“Did you think you would succeed?” Zhongli hisses, digging the polearm deeper into your chest.

You lie on the ground, blood pooling beneath you while Zhongli stands over you. Zhongli notices the Abyss Lectors have yet to attack him. You, their precious Ruler, are impaled, and yet they're doing nothing to help you. You grab the base of Zhongli's polearm, trying to pull the blade out of your chest, only to fail. You struggled for a few minutes before going limp. Eyes glazed over as your lifeless eyes stared into his soul. Zhongli furrows his eyebrows, questioning why it's so easy to kill you and why the Abyss Lectors didn't attack him for impaling and killing you in front of them.

The tense and quiet air in the Chasm is soon broken by the sound of clapping from a distance. Zhongli looks up to see you leaning against the wall with an amused look on your face. You descended the stairs in all your glory— the very same cape flowing behind you. Zhongli narrows his eyes at you and then at your lifeless body on the ground.

“You put on quite the show, Morax. However, you killed the wrong person,” you giggle.

Your lifeless body soon evaporates into a puff of smoke as the Abyss Lectors stand beside you, forming a barrier between you and the Geo Archon. 

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “It's such a shame to see my clone get slaughtered in front of me,” you mutter, shaking your head with disapproval.

“You....” Zhongli trails off.

You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him mockingly. “I what? Did you think you would successfully kill the Ruler of the Abyss? Oh, please! I wouldn't make it easy for you,” you giggle.

You walk toward Zhongli and caress his face. “You're not in your prime time anymore, Morax. You’ll need to do way more than stab me in the chest to get rid of me,” you whisper. “If you'll excuse me, I have a business to tend to. Agnarr and Egill will be keeping you company while Enjou and I are gone.”

Your clone's blood is splattered on Zhongli's face— not going to lie, Zhongli looks attractive with blood on his face. You let your hand fall to your side, smirk at the Funeral Consultant, and turn around, opening a portal for you and Enjou. 

Once you step through the portal with Enjou, the portal closes, leaving Zhongli and the two Abyss Lectors alone. Zhongli clenches his jaws, tightening his grip on his polearm. Zhongli's not going down without a fight, and he will find a way to escape one way or the other. The first thing he needs to do is get rid of the two Abyss Lectors. He could call Xiao for assistance, but Zhongli can handle this on his own.

In the Abyss, you sit on your throne with your legs crossed over the other as you stare at the two Abyss Lectors. You tap your fingers on the armrest, gaze falling upon the kneeling blond before you. Dainsleif is in cuffs, glaring up at you. When you arrived at the Abyss with Enjou, you were informed that the two Hydro and Cryo Abyss Lectors had captured a certain blond. Now, you're unsure of why Dainsleif was popping in and out of the Abyss, but you have an inkling feeling it's to hunt you down.

“Care to explain by the Abyss Lectors found you roaming around the Abyss?” You grumble.

Dainsleif doesn't reply and continues to glare at you. Dainsleif has cuts littering his body, his lip is cut open, and he looks like he was dragged through debris. Nonetheless, you could care less about his condition at the moment. You sit up and rest your elbows on your knees, raising an eyebrow at the blond man. You sit back and close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a slow exhale.

Dainsleif stumbles up while struggling in his cuffs, only for the Cryo Abyss Lector to grunt with annoyance, hitting the blond man on the back of his head. Dainsleif grunts in pain and collapses to the ground on his knees. You click your tongue and open your eyes, gazing into Dainsleif's blue eyes. Dainsleif continues not to say anything, glaring at the ground.

“Your Highness, are you hungry?” Enjou whispers.

You shake your head and dismiss Enjou's question. You leave your throne and step toward the kneeling blond man. Enjou reaches forward and grabs you by your wrist. You turn to Enjou, who shakes his head. You give Enjou a reassuring smile— Enjou swallows. Ever since you agreed to become the new Ruler of the Abyss, Enjou and the other Abyss Lectors, Heralds, and Abyssal creatures have yet to see you smile or laugh. You always have this deep frown and glare— you glared so much that it's permanent at this point.

You step toward Enjou. “I'll be fine, Enjou,” you whisper.

Enjou reluctantly releases your wrist, watching you turn and walk to Dainsleif. You stop before Dainsleif, grab him by the chin, and tilt his head up. Dainsleif stares at you. You want to laugh after seeing him in this state. This is your first time seeing Dainsleif in such a state. It's pathetic and comical. Someone persistent with searching for the Abyss twin, traversing through many regions and maybe even universes, just to find them and snap them out of it. And now Dainsleif is here, kneeling before you and looking pathetic. 

“Never in my life would I see you in this position, Dainsleif. It's shocking and pathetic,” you say nonchalantly. “Care to tell me why you're here? If you're here to kill me, you're going to have to try harder than that. The Geo Archon tried and failed to do so.”

Dainsleif continues not to speak. You release Dainsleif's chin with an annoyed sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. It seems like Dainsleif is even more stubborn than you thought. You wanted to laugh in Dainsleif's face. Why is he in the Abyss, kneeling before you with handcuffs? You would understand if the Abyss Lectors and Heralds captured him for roaming around the Abyss. However, the lack of response from the blond man is putting you on edge. 

Dainsleif lets out a shaky sigh. "I'm here to get you out of the Abyss. You becoming the Ruler of the Abyss Order was a mistake that was never meant to happen," Dainsleif says.

You cross your arms over your chest. Yeah, and your appearance in Teyvat was never meant to happen either, but here you are. You walk to your throne and sit, gesturing for Dainsleif to continue on. If Dainsleif continues to blabber on about something you don't care about, then you're going to call it a day and retreat to your bedroom, and the Abyss Lectors can toss Dainsleif in his prison cell. How could you not join the Abyss Order? Plus, why is Dainsleif suddenly backtracking when your first meeting was the opposite? 

You chuckle bitterly and shake your head. "Oh. Dainsleif. You're a bit too late for that. This is where I truly belong— with the Abyss Order as their Ruler. None of this would've happened if none of you treated me that way," you hiss.

You stand abruptly and begin walking off.

Dainsleif stands. "Wait! Don't leave!" Dainsleif hollers.

You turn around and glare at Dainsleif. Your eyes turn pitch black. "Goodbye, Dainsleif. If you, or anyone, continue to get in my way, I will make sure there's nothing left behind on Teyvat."

And with that, you turn around and storm off with Enjou following you. Dainsleif watches you disappear into the darkness, shoulders slumping. Your nails dig into the palm of your hands, drawing blood. How dare Dainsleif march into the Abyss, demanding for you to leave the Abyss Order when he and the others are the reason why you turn to the Abyss Order for help. The Abyss Order is the only group that accepts you and does not hurt you like how the others did. If they want you to leave the Abyss Order so badly, then they can fight you to the death because you refuse to leave. The Abyss Order is where you truly belong.

Note: I feel like this fic falls under the same route as any other SAGAU fics where the rejected creator!reader joins the Abyss Order because they treat the reader better than the Genshin characters. I haven't read fanfics for Genshin in a while, so idk what's trending nowadays for Genshin. Anyway, I am now going to close the voting for Burning Desire voting for Route 3! Thank you for your votes, and we shall wait and see what happens in the third route! I might take a break from writing (like a one-week break), but idk if I'll go through with it 💀 [this part is copied and pasted from my previous fanfic regarding the Discord server] For those who want to join my Discord server, here is the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Please make sure to read the server rules to save yourself from getting in trouble (if you like the server, you can stay, chat, and lurk. If not, you can leave if you don't vibe with it ^^). Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[noxi3xe]

Current complete works:

Do NOT repost my works without my consent.

These works have all been posted on my AO3 and I've decided to post links to each and every post here. Read my tags and INFO HERE for more information.

I do take requests for oneshots!

╰➛ SERIES

All of my finished Series with Plot; Please read the tags on each work!

My AO3 <- here!

GENSHIN IMPACT:

𐙚 Dangerous Entanglement - Info Here You were just eight when you found out you were special yet cursed. not one, not two but three? From Snezhnaya? You must be a joke! SOULMATES AU ( Reader x Pantalone, Capitano, Dottore) 𐙚 Forgive But Not Forget Reader accidentally betrays Celestia, gets thrown out and gets found by Dottore who is obviously intrigued by the fact that the reader is definitely not human. (Reader x Pantalone, Dottore) 𐙚 A Foolish Fatuus in the opera's grip Your shaking form kneels before the Chief of Justice, begging to be let go. declared an enemy of the region and now the warden locks any door behind you, ready to break your shield of stone, revealing a perfect gem. And now Perhaps your new mentioned dirty injuries gave the warden a new idea. ( Reader x Neuvillette, Wriothesley) 𐙚 Up to the test Aka reader gets isekai'd into genshin impact, works for the tenryou commission for a little bit and climbs the ranks then gets moved to snezhnaya to work with the fatui ( Reader x Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano) 𐙚 To try my hardest Continuation of UP TO THE TEST (Reader x Capitano, Dottore) 𐙚 Echoes of Deception - Info here Your escape plan didn't work as it was supposed to, now your curiosity cost you your position and the trust of the one and only Il Capitano. Perhaps the contract you signed will not only serve as a new beginning but also as the road to regaining his trust. (Capitano x AFAB! Reader)

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HONKAI STAR RAIL

𐙚 Finding Yourself: Perhaps you had never thought you'd be ending up just where you promised yourself you'd be running away from, and with a bit of help you remembered who you used to be and the major role you held. And perhaps the relationships you had lost could be regained, somehow at least. AFTER the Xianzhou Luofu Trailblazer mission ( Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade x Reader)

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╰➛ ONESHOTS

All of my oneshots and so on some with plot some not, Read tags!

NSFW & SFW!

GENSHIN IMPACT:

𐙚 Genshin Impact men x Reader: Various character x reader + thirsts. some have smut some have mentions of explicit content some are just fluff 𐙚 Behind the prison's office doors: Fluff! Nothing's like having to waddle through the pouring rain to work just to be greeted by your lover, unaware of the conditions outside due to being locked inside his office. (Wriothesley x Reader) 𐙚 Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Don't cry! Fluff! After a while it had all clicked, the rain was pouring, thunder crackling through the air. Rushing back inside, behind his desk sat the hydro dragon, sobbing loudly. AU! Reader travels alongside Lumine & Paimon (Neuvillette x Reader) 𐙚 Fontaline Dragon Meeting: childe forms a plan to get to the gnosis, fails, has to go thru a trial, his fontaine arrival reaches zhongli, he appears, then childe (again) sleeps his way to the gnosis. (Zhongli, Neuvillette x Childe) 𐙚 Genshin & Honkai drabbles: Various character x Reader Fics and ideas I produce along the way and have no idea what to do with, Short & simple. 𐙚 Knowing when to stop: Fluff! Pierro overworks himself again so you take his place for a day, doing the exact same thing as him in the end. (Pierro x Reader)

-

HONKAI STAR RAIL:

𐙚 Bound for eternity: You get off of work, tired, spot march on the street want to return her hairclip but get dragged along to a pub you meet your soulmate after years of waiting you decide to drag him to your home after meeting him (Boothill x Reader) 𐙚 Genshin & Honkai drabbles: Various character x Reader Fics and ideas I produce along the way and have no idea what to do with, Short & simple. 𐙚 Pretty reunion, Ugly past: Reader has some unsolved problems w blade while working for the Cloud Knights, finds it all too much, leaves everything behind and runs away with the Astral express then returns a decade later and is greeted with a pissy Blade and a warmly (not really) welcoming Jing Yuan (Reader x Blade, Jing Yuan)

OTHER FANDOMS/MULTI FANDOM:

Multi fandom x Reader: Various character x reader oneshots from the next few games/shows: - Demon slayer: (Tengen, Rengoku x Reader) - Jujutsu Kaisen: (Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Toji x Reader) - Seraph of the end: (Crowley, Ferid, Guren, Higari x Reader) - Honkai Star Rail: (Blade, Jing Yuan, Luocha x Reader) - Gangsta: (Worick, Nicolas x Reader) - Genshin Impact: (Dottore, Capitano, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham x Reader) - Bungo Stray Dogs: (Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Odasaku x Reader) - Spider-Man: Spider-Verse: (Miguel O'Hara x Reader) - Call of Duty: (König, Simon ghost Riley x Reader)

____________________________________________________

[baeshijima]

going through all my old hsr and genshin concepts rn and omg i need to write/finish some of these like actually???

like?? wdym i havent started the fallen/banished god!blade x god!reader 20k slow burn pining hurt/comfort "i have never stopped thinking about you for the last millennia and now that you're finally here in front of me once more i won't let you go even if you try to flee" old friends to barely recognisable husk of former self (reader pov of blade) to lovers fic yet???

wdym i havent started the reverse transmigration into a murder mystery novel where ur a side character who gets killed off for cheap plot progression and served as the main character (diluc)'s reason for vengeance with aether and lumine having transmigrated into the novel before your death and save you only to not realise that things happen for a reason and now they are constantly trying to protect you from all forms of death alongside the growing ragtag group of the main cast as they vie for your attention fic yet????

wdym i havent started the kamisama kiss au fic for both genshin and hsr despite having so many brainrots about the possible dynamics between familiar!characters under your contract and fellow god!characters who you meet along the journey of being a god yet???

wdym i havent started the devoted-yet-dramatic knight!argenti x fed-up-but-secretly-loves-it heir!reader 10k comedy pining slight hurt/comfort fic yet???

wdym i havent started that one-sided rivals (character yet to be decided on) time travel into the future where you find yourself married to self-proclaimed rival and have a crisis over how you came to be wed and where this affection from them came to be while they're wondering why you're avoiding them and acting like you did when you were both still students fic yet???

wdym i havent finished the soulmate!blade or actor!blade fics yet despite having so much groundwork laid out for them???

wdym i havent finished the transmigration into a fodder side character and accidentally stealing all the male leads from the female lead and then some more despite it already being 8-9k words in fic yet???

wdym i havent started the hsr version equivalent of the prev wip fic yet???

wdym i havent finished the cat dad bass player previously renowned national fencer university student blade 10k pining fic yet???

wdym i havent finished the hsr celeb/actor!various au despite being 5k words in and constantly revising what characters im actually including in it fic yet???

WDYM I STILL HAVE MORE WIPS ASIDE FROM THESE??????

[pink-tk-a-latte]

if you could sit in a barrel, maybe

[sfw tickle fic!! possible claustrophobia. lee!venti, ler!lumine]

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄

“Well… this is troublesome.”

Lumine hissed as she squeezed Venti closer to her. “You’re the one who got us here.” Venti laughed, breathless as the Traveler choked him.

The wooden walls of the barrel did nothing to muffle the heavy footsteps shaking the tavern floor. Lumine’s ears could pick up the clinking of chains on the suit of the tavernkeeper (Diluc, because of course it was Diluc). The air was stuffy, it smelled sour, and, as hard as she blinked, Lumine could see nothing but darkness and the not-even-guilty outline of Venti’s face squished against his braids.

“Aw, don’t be mad, my dear. I just wanted some birthday wine! However could we celebrate without wine?” Venti whispered pitifully, head cradled in Lumine’s lap. His feet scuffed on the side of the barrel — she felt her lungs still.

Every noise was like a firecracker in this suffocating, pitch-black space. At each incensed footfall outside and each too-sharp breath or shuffle within the curved planks, Lumine’s arms stiffened around the bard in her hold. If only I could be silent enough for the both of us.

Venti kicked his leg again, twitching with excited energy. Lumine’s heart rocketed. The steps on the floorboards had stopped. She stuck her hands under Venti’s arms and tugged him close.

Then his entire body flinched, a squeak shooting out of his mouth. Lumine clenched her teeth as the barrel shook.

“Venti!”

“Sorry!” Venti wriggled as much as he could, the tiniest wispy giggles sprouting from his lips. “Wahaha— Your hahands!”

Lumine sighed. A twitchy smile pulled at her cheeks. “Oh, Ven. Just try to be quiet.”

Mute, Lumine scribbled under Venti’s arms. She chuckled softly at his nervous choke.

“Lu- Luhumihine! AHaha- NaHAhat now! Stop t- tihihi— Stahap thahahat!”

“What? Tickling you?” Lumine grinned as Venti quivered and whined in a flustered flurry. She dragged her fingers between his upper ribs, teasing at the edge of his dancing corset.

“EHee yehehehes! Stop tihihicklihing!”

“Stop being so ticklish then.” In this moment of warmth and giddy suspense, Lumine forgot all need for stealth. There was something thrilling about breaking the rules, toeing the line and trying not to get caught.

Lumine traced the hems of Venti’s dress shirt, scratching up his forearms and around his underarms. Hysterical, he squealed into her clothes and squirmed. Lumine could feel the vibrations of his lyre-sweet laughter running through her abdomen (and she tried to pretend it didn’t affect her in a giggly way at all).

“EEHE! Dihiluhuhuc will hehehehear!” Venti pleaded. “He’ll be sohoho mahaHAhad!”

Now you’re worried? “Well, maybe you deserve it.” With a huff, Lumine patted down his torso, searching for his hips. “This was all your idea anyway, you little wiggleworm.” Ah, bingo. She slipped her fingers into the hole in Venti’s shorts, tracing circles into soft, sensitive skin where his shirt had ridden up.

All the while, Venti was gnawing on his braids to muffle himself, a wail leaping from the back of his throat when she made it to his hips. He’d jerked so far forward that Lumine had sunk farther onto her back somehow, and Venti was now crushing her chest.

“LUHUmihihi pleheheHEASE! Nah nohohot thehehere! I cahahan’t, Ihihi’m—!” Desperately, Venti twisted his hips and shook his head, braids whipping about, glowing. Oh, they were glowing a lot, actually. Almost as if—

The barrel exploded.

Lumine lay surrounded by the splintered remains of their hiding spot — unharmed, but winded (ha) by the burst of Anemo. Venti was collapsed on her chest, where he panted and rubbed at his apple-red cheeks.

Grimacing as her legs twinged with pins and needles, Lumine propped Venti up by his shoulders to examine his face. “You okay?” she asked, still supine on the floor.

Venti nodded, loopy. “Only hurt that you would be so mean to me. And on my birthday?” He pouted and almost tumbled onto her again.

A snicker broke out of Lumine’s chest. Then it snowballed into bubbling laughter that shook her entire torso. Venti too succumbed to mirthful stitches, equally exhilarated from the high of misbehavior.

“Happy birthday to you.” Lumine giggled and patted Venti’s cheek. He met her with a wide, joyous smile.

“Happy birthday indeed, bard,” came a new, much deeper, much more intimidating voice.

Venti and Lumine looked up at the looming shadow, red hair, dark suit, crossed arms and all. Blazing eyes twisted in irritation burned through them.

It seemed Diluc had discovered the mess they’d created.

And they never even made it to the wine…

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VENTI!!!!! 🍏 You’re finally home for your bday pictures after evading my pulls for three years <333

[impactedfates]

helloo there! can i request smth?? ^_^ could you do where the reader has crush on xiao but they are usually is very timid and shy/blushy around him.? they run away whenever he pops up! (xiao likes them back!) u can choose the rest tysm! :3 💗💗

★ A/N: Xiao is such a sweetie though, love him. I have him on my NA and he's like my only decently built character. I should really log back into there and take care of my characters.

☆ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Fluff + Mutual Pining

★ Format: Short Fic (W.C: 904)

☆ Warnings: None (I think?)

★ Extra: Reader is the same height as Xiao // Xiao might be OOC // Traveler Lumine // Reader not from Liyue -> Moved there to start a business (You can choose) // Might be a bit messy sorry!

Shy Away - Xiao x GN! Reader

“You called?”

Spoke the adeptus appearing behind you and the blonde traveller. You yelped a bit and was quick to hide yourself behind Lumine who sighed out tiredly. She looked towards Xiao and attempted to move out of the way however you continued to stay behind her. Paimon could only watch in disappointment, looking towards Xiao who was confused.

“OH MY ARCHONS JUST-”

“NO”

And with that, you were quick to rush off, leaving a very flustered Lumine and Paimon and befuddled Xiao (who if you looked closely enough, he seemed almost…hurt?)

How’d it come to this? To you requesting help from Lumine and Paimon to confess your love to Xiao, yet when it came time too. You ended up rushing away from him like always.

Oh right, now you remember.

A few months back, you had met with Lumine when she came by to celebrate the Lantern Rite. You already knew Xiao at the time, it’d be weird if you didn’t. He was one of the adeptus of Liyue of course. It wasn’t until Lumine introduced you two properly that you found out he also knew you.

He’s not only heard of you from Shenhe and Ganyu but also during his patrol around Liyue, he would catch himself staring at you just a bit longer than needed. He’d always brush it off as.

“They moved here to start their business, I’m only keeping watch because they might be dangerous”

As if it hadn’t been a couple of years since you moved here. Zhongli was the first to point it out and the ex-geo archon could only chuckle as he witnessed his adeptus face become redder and redder.

When you two did properly meet, the feeling you two already semi had for each other only grew. When you found out you were falling for Xiao, you just could not bring yourself to tell him right away…leading you to many situations…

~~~~~~~~~~

You hummed to yourself a bit, sweeping the floor. Your eyes caught onto a jade necklace Xiao had gifted you for your birthday, with a small smile. You went over and took hold of it in your free hand.

Unintentionally, you must have whispered his name as the next thing you knew, you heard someone behind you and gently speak out your name. And despite you knowing who it was, perhaps your body acted before your mind as you quickly whipped around and nearly hit Xiao with the broom. He ducked and just looked at you in confusion and concern.

“...Are you okay [Name]? Are you hur-”

“AH, X-XIAO SORRY. BYE”

Was all you could muster before dropping everything and rushing out…of your own home…

~~~~~~~~~~

“[Name]? Are you listening”

A hand waved in front of your face and when your eyes finally focused, your mind stopped the long day dream you had of how your life with Xiao could be like if you two were to date.

Then your eyes finally landed on Xiao who looked at you softly…his face inches away from yours, you fell back with a small yelp banging your head on the wall which Xiao was quick to check on you.

“S-sorry! I um, don’t w-worry about me”

“...You banged your head on the wall [Name]...are you able to answer what I asked you?”

“Oh! Yeah of course…yes I agree”

Xiao sighed softly, bringing a hand around to rub the back of your head to soothe the pain.

“I asked what flower was your favourite…”

~~~~~~~~~~

“[Name] wait!”

He called, as he witnessed you run away again. He didn’t even do anything, nor did you. You just wanted to give him lunch of almond tofu you made yourself.

But the smile he gave you and how gently he took it from your hand, the slight touch as his hands grazed your own softly was perhaps too much for you, and before he could thank you, you had already run off.

He looked down on the ground, not wanting to possibly bother you. Zhongli came and stood beside him.

~~~~~~~~~~

This isn’t even talking about all the times you nearly embarrassed yourself in front of him or the amount of times you ran off thinking that’s the best thing you can do.

You’ve talked to Lumine and Paimon about it and eventually they had convinced you to confess to him. You’d call his name so he’d appear and Lumine and Paimon will be there to support you in the confession, so that’s what happened!

Which brings you back to now…hiding from him once again. You sat under a tree as you tried to cool down your face which was increasingly heating up…until a hand felt your forehead.

“...You’re heating up a lot”

Came an all too familiar voice. Your eyes met with Xiaos as he looked at you. You weren’t able to run away anymore. Your back was met with a tree and Xiao was in front of you. And you couldn’t just leave him without another explanation again could you?

“Sorry”

“For what?”

“Running off”

“It’s okay”

Silence filled the air as you two didn’t know what to say, before Xiao cleared his throat.

“...Lumine…she uh…”

“D-did she tell you?”

“She did…she said she was tired of you shying away…”

You silently cursed Lumine under your breath, but at the same time you knew if she didn’t say then you’d never be able to confess properly.

“...S-so?”

“I love you too”

Been working on this ever since I got it, decided to work on the smaller requests as well on the side fsrght

I hope this is okay! I might've missed some mistakes though...

[lemon-boy-stan]

JEALOUSY - DILUC RAGNVINDR

Summary: Everyone knows the reader is Diluc's wife. Everyone except Kaeya, of course, who still thinks he has a shot at sleeping with her. After a long day of battle, Diluc teaches Kaeya his lesson. Pairing: Diluc x fem!reader (Lumine based) Genre: smut. Warnings: swearing, voyeruism, orgasm control, dom!jealous!Diluc, pervert!Kaeya, male masturbation, breeding, Diluc being a dick :D A/N: this is my first Genshin fic! I've been in love with Diluc ever since I started playing last month. Hope you like it, hopefully it's not too bad! Here's the inspiration for YN's nightie.

As much as Diluc Ragnvindr despised the Knights of the Favonius, he still kept tabs on where they were, what they were doing and if they needed help. The reason? His wife was one of them ever since she came to Mondstadt as a traveller.

Diluc had had his eyes on her ever since they had first met, but he knew there was competition. Everyone knew he was going to marry you one day, he'd made it clear to the entire village. Well. Everyone except Kaeya, who still liked to ignore the fact that you were Diluc's wife, not his.

Kaeya was always flirting with Diluc's wife, always asking her if and when she wanted to meet up with him, complementing her fighting skills, looking at her when he thought no one was (except Diluc, of course), always trying to get close to her.

Of course, Kaeya always had this flair to impress people, especially girls, especially pretty girls, which Diluc's wife was, with her pretty blonde hair and blue eyes that always glistened with happiness and love. But what Kaeya didn't know was that Diluc knew everything going on in his brother's head; because it was going through his too. Too slow, Kaeya. She was Diluc's first.

Diluc always hated when you went off on one of your quests. He had it in his right mind to revoke you from being a Knight of the Favonius if you weren't one of their best soldiers. Nevertheless, it was midday when you bid him goodbye, kissing him on the cheek before standing in between Amber, Lisa and a very smug looking Kaeya. Diluc tried his best not to grit his teeth, smiling and waving at you as you stepped towards the Teleport Waypoint.

Once you were gone, Diluc kicked the door of the Dawn Winery. Patton and other villages looked at him strange, but he couldn't care less. He slammed the door shut, overturning the closed sign on the front door, yelling at customers inside to get out before sighing and sitting behind the bar.

Hours and hours past until late evening, and they still weren't back yet. He grunted loudly before getting up, slamming the door of the Winery once more, making his own way to the Teleport Waypoint.

Sure enough, there they all were, getting constantly defeated by a ruin guard. Diluc scanned the area, smiling at the sight of how pretty his wife was, even in battle.

She fired all her elemental power at the guard before tripping and turning her back. Diluc's heart was beating a thousand miles now as he watched in anticipation from the steps of the ruin as the guard fired explosives at his wife. The two girls shrieked loudly, running to YN's side. Kaeya froze the guard and Diluc roared, jumping up from a pillar, thrusting his sword into the guard's head.

Paimon hovered above YN, barking orders at Amber and Lisa, her high pitched voice making Diluc's teeth grind. All Diluc saw was red as he made his way over.

"Kaeya," sniffled Lisa, "we need your help." Diluc's head snapped up, "what could this pervert possibly be helpful for?" Kaeya stuttered loudly, "pervert?!" And Diluc growled, "I SAW YOU looking up my wife's skirt!" Kaeya glared at Diluc, "I remember no such thing. You're just delusional because you think everyone wants to bang-" BANG. Kaeya fell to the side, stumbling from Diluc's punch.

The girls shrieked again. Diluc smirked, "what is it? Cat got your tongue?"

"Master Diluc!" Pamion snapped. Kaeya got up, hissing at his older brother, wiping the blood from his lips. "Do you see these burns on her?" Pamion gently lifted YN's shirt. Diluc gritted his teeth. "Only Kaeya can heal them, and we don't have any other options. If we are to be back in Mondstat before tomorrow and she is to be in your arms safe in the Winery, please co-operate!"

Diluc hissed, "and have this pervert touch her? Absolutely not." Pamion hissed back at him before disappearing. "Master Diluc!" Shouted both girls angrily. "Why would anyone look at your wife? We all know how much-"

"Diluc," said a softer, timid voice, calming him instantly, making him worry more than be jealous. "My love?" He kissed your forehead. You coughed, "it hurts." He bit his lip and sighed, nodding. "Alright, honey. It'll be okay. Kaeya, please help her."

Kaeya hissed, "that's what I was trying to do." Diluc merely rolled his eyes, waving off the younger's words.

Kaeya placed his hands on YN's chest (so, so punchable), cooling the burns with his elemental power. Instantly, your face regained its colour. You sat up, smiling, "thank you." Kaeya grunted, rolling his eyes.

All Diluc did was glare at his brother before kissing your lips softly, helping you up. Amber and Lisa shared looks with each other, making their way back to the Teleport Waypoint.

Back in Mondstadt, Diluc let you rest during and a little after dinner with the team in the tavern where you regained your strength. Kaeya, the prick he was, was staying in one of the Dawn Winery's rooms for the night.

It was around midnight when the group finally departed to their respected quarters. Kaeya wove goodbye to you, and Diluc smiled, an idea forming in his head, finally putting the jealousy to rest. He took your hand in his, leading you you to the master bedroom. Diluc was planning on buying a mansion soon with the money from the winery, but for now this was your residence.

"You're not still mad about Kaeya, are you, my love?" you looked back at him, taking off your armour in the mirror. Diluc grunted, "a little, but I'll be fine." taking off his gloves, putting his hands in his pockets and and walking over.

Diluc kissed the left side of your neck softly and your eyes fluttered closed as you giggled quietly, "mm, you're adorable." if anyone else called him that, Diluc might just shred them to bits. But he gave his wife a proper, genuine smile. "Am I?" and you nodded, "the cutest."

Diluc kissed you on your lips deeply and pressing you against the mirror. "Oh," you mumbled softly, "what's gotten into you, Master Diluc?" and he grunted again, "don't call me that, my love. You know what it does to me," his eyes turning a darker shade of red.

Diluc made sure to frown, "I can't remember if Charles locked up. I'll be back in a moment, stay there, yes?" And he kissed your cheek, putting his pointer finger in the slit of your silver nightie, pulling the silk down so that he could see your breasts. He smirked and you sighed dreamily at him, "yes, Master Diluc." He smiled, "good girl."

Diluc put his gloves back on before shutting the door. Kaeya was in one of the smaller rooms as he he often travelled alone. Diluc didn't care if his brother was sleeping or not, and rapped loudly on the door. "Okay, okay!" Kaeya shouted from inside.

The door opened and Diluc smirked again. Kaeya sighed in annoyance. "What is it, you inssuferable-" but Diluc wove his hand, cutting him off. "YN wants you." and Kaeya frowned suspiciously. "What exactly does your beloved wife need me for?" Diluc rolled his eyes, drawling his words. "Don't you know to be respectful to your host?" and Kaeya snarled, "why, you little-" the younger reached to punch the older, but Diluc saw it a mile away, and instead grabbed his brother's wrist.

"Don't you enjoy helping my wife?" Diluc hissed. "Come."

It had been ten minutes and you were starting to get antsy when Diluc flung the door open, pulling a a very very angry blue-headed man behind him. "Kaeya?!" You startled up, making sure the nightie covered your breasts. Kaeya couldn't help but stare and get hard. You shrieked loudly and ran to find the nearest item of clothing, one of Diluc's soft velvet cloaks.

Diluc rolled his eyes, hand gripping his brother's wrist. "I thought I told you to stay put?" He drawled, flinging his brother into the maroon arm chair next to the master bed. Kaeya made for the door, but Diluc hissed, kicking it shut with his boot.

"Master Diluc!" You stuttered, backing up against the wall, "what are you doing, my love?" And Diluc smiled innocently, "teaching my dear brother a lesson. Look, he's already hard. Didn't I tell you he was a pervert?" Fuck. If your husband wasn't the hottest man in the world, no one was.

"Pervert?!" spat Kaeya, "you're the one fucking her infront of me!" and Diluc laughed one of the Loudest laughs you'd ever heard him laugh in your life. "You were the one looking up her skirt," Diluc snarled, "after I had just bred her the night thereof? Did my seed on her skin make you that horny?"

Kaeya coughed, "I have no idea what you're talking about." he gripped the arms of the chair. Diluc smirked, "well, my wife and I are trying to concieve child, and the day after, you look up her skirt. Don't you know who she belongs to, brother?" and he grabbed grabbed your waist, flinging you onto the bed, making you shriek loudly.

There was none of the usual teasing teasing and foreplay involved. Not even any preparation, as if you still needed some. Diluc unzipped his pants and lifted your nightie over your head before leaning down and thrusting inside you, all of his anger finally released.

"Diluc!" you screamed his name, each syllable of his name lined with both pain and pleasure. You would never get used to the size of his cock. You had slept with a multitude of men Mondstat before bedding Diluc, and nothing compared to him. Diluc grunted softly, kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he hit your spot with one thrust.

"Fuck," he grunted, "you're still so fucking tight. Does this audience turn you on, my love?" you mewled under him, blushing. He cackled loudly, the sound booming. "Feel free to touch yourself," he shot at Kaeya, "but never look at my wife unless I allow you."

Yes, Kaeya knew she and Diluc were trying for a child. Everyone in Mondstat did. Not just because of Diluc boasting about it every five seconds, but also because everyone could hear what was happening in the winery every day since late April. It was July now and no one had the guts to bring it up.

Kaeya moaned loudly at the sight of tiny YN underneath Diluc, unbuckling his pants and stroking his member, wishing it was him fucking the swet, innocent girl she protrayed herself as. When she first came to Mondstadt, Kaeya had wanted to fuck her guts out immediately because of her innocent stature. Fuck you, Diluc.

Diluc's hips snapped as he he thrust into your dripping cunt, pale skin shining under the candlelight. Diluc moaned loudly, "fuck, you feel so so fucking good. You're so fucking perfect, look how well you take my cock." he slowed down, kissing your breasts. "I'm gonna breed you now, love." and you nodded, barely processing anything except for how good that huge cock of his felt.

"Fuck," Diluc moaned lewdley, releasing the first load into into you, pulling out his cock and lining it with his cum before pushing it back in you, "you're so fucking good for me, don't waste a single drop." you nodded hazily, "yes, Master Diluc." he whimpered at the name, cumming an even bigger load.

"Gonna cum!" You moaned. Diluc slapped across your face, "not yet, slut. Tell me, who do you belong to?" You sobbed loudly, unable to comprehend anything happening right now, but Diluc was impatient. "Who do you belong to?!" He didn't care that he was shouting. You moaned, body stuttering under him.

"You," your mouth dropping open into an 'O' shape. Clearly, this didn't satisfy him. Diluc pulled out, thrusting two fingers inside instead. "Who do you belong to?!" And you screamed, "M-Master Diluc! I belong to Master Diluc!" And he smiled, satisfied, taking his fingers out and shoving his cock back in, dick twitching to the feeling of your cunt, "cum."

You nodded, finally releasing your orgasm around his cock, signing lewdly.

Diluc finally pulled out, making sure to push his cum into you as he cleaned up your skin. He caressed your inner thighs softly, crawling up to kiss your lips, "you were perfect, my love." pulling the silk doona over the both of you, putting his right arm around you and burying his head in your neck. You giggled softly, "I love you, you idiot." He smiled into your skin, "I love you too, princess."

There was a loud, indignant cough from Diluc's side of the room. Diluc brought his head up, looking to where the sound had come from. Ah. He smiled to himself. It was a very pale Kaeya. Diluc smirked, "clean yourself up and you're free to go. I do hope I've made myself clear? What's mine is mine."

Kaeya scowled, "you do realise that the entire kingdom can hear you two whores?" Diluc roared, leaping up in bed, "what did you just call my-" but you shrieked, pulling him down, grabbing his shoulder.

Kaeya shrugged, "I'm just saying. Why do you think all the men stare at her her and all the women envy her?" Diluc shrugged too, "because she's good-looking." and Kaeya snorted, "I guess so, but it's been the talk of the town. If you treasure the innocence of your beloved wife so much, maybe you should try and keep it down."

If Kaeya hadn't bounded towards the door slammed it shut, you were almost sure Diluc would finally learn what happened if he tried to murder a Knight of the Favonius.

NAVIGATION

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

[antianakin]

i loved Burn the Ships, so i’m begging for more fics in which order 66 happens differently or is even fully averted that are pro-jedi order (preferably with lots of obi-wan but i love all the other jedi so not a high priority)!! it’s sooo hard to find ones that don’t force the order to change their ways or excuse anakin’s bad choices or like make him the one who prevents order 66 super easily. thanks!

I can absolutely do this, this is RIGHT in my wheelhouse!

I'm taking this ask to mean fics that specifically deal with how Order 66 changes or is averted, not just fics set in a happy fix-it world. For the purposes of this prompt, I also am not including fics where there's only a SLIGHT change from the canon Order 66 (like a Padme lives AU or Tatooine Husbands AU, for example).

Order 66 Happens Differently:

Knightrise by deviantaccumulation (incomplete fic)

Greater Than Your Hoarded Gold series by Quietbang (incomplete series, completed first fic)

When Night Falls series by Kiwikipedia (incomplete series, completed fics, not Anakin friendly)

Into Tomorrow by Ravenclaw_Paredhel (completed fic)

only following orders by grumpyhedgehogs (completed fic, this could ARGUABLY go in the other category but the fic isn't long enough to really know so I'm leaving it here)

No Order 66:

The Temple of Hope series by Zarz (incomplete series, completed first fic)

let the river in by saltsanford (completed fic, part of a series but can be read alone, more clone focused but is still Jedi positive)

under the wide and starry sky series by wrennette (completed fics, incomplete series)

in our hearts some ancient song by whimsical images (completed fic)

That's Not How It Happened (This Is How It Happened) by cacodaemonia (completed fic, part of an ongoing series that is more clone focused)

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Time Travelers by blackkat (incomplete fic, I assume it'll avert Order 66 eventually lol)

Consumed by Greed by virdant (completed fic, not Anakin friendly)

Commander Fox's Ultimate Bucket List by blackkat (completed fic, not Anakin friendly)

that was a spring of storms by blackkat (incomplete fic, not Anakin friendly)

and the tide rises, the tide falls series by blackkat (incomplete series, completed first fic)

The Sun Swings East by kj_feybarn (completed fic)

and love unbolts the dark by blackkat (completed fic)

Nonna and the Coruscant Guard by Argentee (completed fic, clone centric)

The Legend of Liob by killbothtwins (completed fic)

For Everything a Season by galateaGalvanized (completed fic, smutty)

hide the wolves of sleep (and mask the grave) by blackkat (incomplete fic)

And There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do (For You) by Armin_05 (completed fic, clone centric)

The Ground Beneath Us by stolen_pen_name23 (completed fic, Anakin centric)

Conviction by SassySnowperson (completed fic)

All the Monsters That You've Made (Are Coming Home to Roost) by Dragonstorm (completed fic)

luminous beings are we series by blackkat (ongoing series, all fics completed)

The Vode by RoseThorn14 (incomplete fic)

Capacitance by Jessepinwheel (completed fic)

[lacedupforyou]

Hii!! I really love your hc wich Genshin! And I love the fluff you add to the storys! So, if you dont mind, I am going to request a yandere abyss price Aether (my baby boy) with a reader who just got captured (people have mixed opinions on how abyss prince would act, and I really look forword to your hc!)

Thank you for reading my request, and if you dont feel like replying, its fine, I understand.Have a nice day and make sure to drink enough water! <3

The Princess | Yandere Abyss Prince Aether |

| Sorry for the long wait! Should be fully active 5/9/23 | Enjoy! Thank you for your sweet words. :)) |

For this ask reader is a pyro sword user.

~ Suggestive Content, I'm nobody's parent but this will contain slight nsfw at the end. If there is a part 2. That will probably be NSFW. I have other works if you do not wish to read that, or request a separate fic.

~

You were a friend of Lumine's. Traveling with her after she had saved you from an encounter with Dvalin. You met her in mondstat but traveled with her everywhere! Helping her along the ways and doing what you could. You, Paimon, and Lumine, Were great friends. Traveling from Liyue to Inazuma, to Sumeru. You were almost a guardian to the prince.

Of course the prince of the abyss had seen you traveling with his sister. He became interested. Even after his journeys he had not noticed your compassion, your bravery, your loyalty. Of course he spent more time watching you with his sister. The way you protected her, Gathered things with her, and slept at night. He was obsessed.

Of course, he kept wanting more. So he had an abyss mage steal a few strands of your hair. He spent time sitting on his throne admiring it. The way it shined.

He always felt himself wanting more. to feel the warmth of your skin on his bitter heart. So, While traveling fontaine, He had 2 abyss herald's kidnap you.

You were in the streets of fontaine, Checking out the shops, the goods, the commissions. When the world suddenly became empty abyss. It was blue and empty, You cried out for Lumine and paimon but you were not in fontaine anymore..

The abyss herald's had shown up and though you were a vision holder you were out-numbered. The abyss herald of frost fall had frozen your body up to your shoulders. You tried to melt everything but you were worn out and exhausted. The cold making you drift off into a sleep.

When you had awoken it was to a post your arms around your back tied to a long pillar, You were sitting with your legs out You had felt hands on your cheeks, You looked up to see the prince of the abyss..Examining you? He was stroking your hair like you were some pet for his amusement. He held a serious expression but it seemed to be at ease.

"Who..Are you?" You finally broke the silence.

"The abyss prince. Your prince. You will learn, I know you will. Stay quiet. I need..this."

You felt your face redder as the man kept examining your face. You noticed you were in different clothes. White robes, Instead of your normal wear.

"You- You changed me-? Or did the abyss heral-"

"Yes I did. What of it?" He spoke bluntly.

You were dumbfounded. You were in a huge hall with purple tints. You struggled in your restraints and shouted at the prince telling him to release you and that he was crazy.

He harshly grabbed your jaw. "Watch your tongue, I shall cut it off if you cannot show some obedience to your king." That got you quiet. You noticed his features. They were so similar to Lumine, It was eerie.

"I can tell what're you are thinking. Yes I am related to them. But we are very different. Hold still."

His arms unhooked the cuffs but kept them on you behind your back. He lifted your body bridal style and walked to his throne, Sitting on it and sitting you in his lap still bridal style. You were stricken with fear. Where was your vision? Lumine must be worried. Would they come for you? What was he going to do with you..?

The hall was empty, Quiet. You were in your wave of thoughts until you felt his hand snake to your inner thigh.

"My princess.. I've watched you for so long.. I won't let you go. No matter where you go. I'll drag you here. You're my princess. Forever."

(Part 2? Request it! I need to know people want more lol. I haven't wrote NSFW yet but I hope it will be good if requested. Sorry for the days of silence on my part. Remember to shower and do some self care <3.)

[azuresky-agere]

Firstly I stumbled upon your blog and I love it so much. I just started getting into Genshin Impact so while I may no know all of the characters I find that the ones I do know your writing is so comforting.

Secondly I was wondering if I could request a mini fic with regressor Aether. Bit of an angst idea here, Aether overworking and over tired, regressing without realizing and it takes Venti telling him to stop and take a break and that he will look watch over him for Aether to realize just how much he needs one

OKAY OKAY OKAY

First of all- it's been a while since my last minific, I know...I've just not been fully motivated to write in general because I'm generally busy with exams this month but thank for for your nice comments !!! waking up this morning to like, 20+ notifications of one person liking my blog is GENUINELY insane so thank you hehe <3

(also yes this is an image, i could NOT find an aether gif for the life of me)

Little!Aether, CG!Venti - Aether being overworked, and Venti telling him to take a break.

"There's still a long road ahead." - Aether, "Joining Party" voiceline.

─ 𖥔 ─

With the addition of the Serenitea Pot, Aether's life should've gotten way more easier.

With Paimon out at Wanmin Restaurant for the day, and his adventures on a halt to catch his breath after saving yet another nation, it's safe to say he had nothing to do. The first few hours of his day were dedicated to cleaning. He cooked for what little people rested at the teapot the previous night, the bookshelves were clean, and he was positive that any more attempts to clean and dust would make him go insane.

He could feel a tantrum bubbling in his core- a trait which only happened when he was regressed and angry about something big. But...he felt big now. He had to be big- and being regressed was stupid, anyways.

"Yahoo, Traveller!" a cheery voice called out. It was Venti. After a few seconds, he descended the stairway, and wrapped Aether in a hug. That hug did not help him remain big. Aether hugged the bard back, albeit a bit clumsily. "How are you today? Where is your little travelling companion?"

Aether huffed, but it really sounded more like a whine. It hadn't been good. "Paimon is at Wanmin, an' i got nothin' to do..."

Venti hummed in confusion. "That sounds like a bad thing."

"It is!" Aether whined. "I wan' do stuff, but m' tired..."

"Then you should nap, silly!" Venti said. "Or...is there something else going on?"

Aether stared at the floor as if it held the secrets to giving his sister back- that's all he wanted from this world- Lumine. Sure, he had a stuffed animal upstairs called Lumine, but he still wanted the real thing back. When she came back, he'd hug her tight, and never let her go, ever.

Well, that was an exaggerated statement- restricting his sister's freedom would never happen, but he was small, and everything felt floaty and too exaggerated for him to think right.

"Small." he mumbled, wrapping his arms around him. He didn't even know if Venti knew what regression was- and if he did, Aether expected to be yelled at, and-

"Oh, you're a kiddo right now?" he cooed. "Hello, sweet thing!"

Aether glanced at Venti, gasping- almost similiar to how a toddler would. Granted, he felt younger than that right now, but still. "You know...regression?"

Venti nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "Diluc helps me be small, butttttt it seems like you need some help relaxing, yes?"

"Mhm!" he nodded. "Been workin' super duper hard!" he giggled, trying his best to stifle a yawn. "Hard to do nothin'...feel bad."

"Well, let's talk about being overworked when you're much bigger, hm?"

Aether nodded, watching curiously as Venti bent down to Aether's level. "Now, do you want to snuggle up in your room and relax-" he held out his left hand. "Or do you want to have a picnic outside?" with that, he held out his right hand. "Your decision, kiddo. You can even nap if you want."

Aether dwelled on the question. He had...an option? And none of them had him doing overwhelming combat for horrible pay? Quietly, Aether held Venti's left hand, using his free hand to suck on his hand. With a giggle, Venti lifted Aether up, letting him rest on his hip.

"Well, let's go!" he smiled. "Maybe you can introduce me to your stuffies, hm?"

─ 𖥔 ─

[java-lava]

Platonic Kunikuzushi x F! Creator! Reader

Part 2

A/n; I’m sorry for this being so late, I’ve been really sick recently and when I’m not in the hospital, I’m too exhausted to write. I’ll try to update the fic that I can! I hope you guys enjoy this part 2! Thank you all for the love and support for the last part!

(Purple is Scara talking blue is Reader talking)

A million thoughts can run through a person’s head in a matter of mere seconds, and right now so many were running through the Creator’s head as the Balladeer, the one she once knew as Kunikuzushi, her son, charged at her quickly. Nevertheless, she held open her arms, welcoming him home.

Kuni-The Balladeer, had thought that his heart was long dead, shriveled up, decayed even. So why did his heart ache when he saw her? He could not understand. It had hurt when she had left, it had hurt over the years while she was gone, and it hurt even worse when he came to the realization that she wasn’t coming back, that she had abandoned him, just like everyone else, but why did it hurt to see her again? These questions swam through his head as he ran towards her with such fire in his eyes.

*THUD*

A resounding thud rang through the room, where two bodies made a rapid impact.

Sobs racked through the room, echoing even to the most distant corners.

“Shhhhhh, my son….. you are home now.” Was whispered by the great Creator, as she held the weeping boy tightly in her embrace.

Just as he heard those words, it was as if all the pain had suddenly come to a halt, and instead his heart was filled with a warmth and joy that he had long since forgotten the feeling of.

*a few months later*

After they had reunited, Kuni refused to leave his mother’s side again.

When it had came out that Lumine and Aether were the Creator’s children, Kuni had worried that his mother would prefer them over him, that she would leave him to be a broken, forgotten doll again. Instead, he now had a bigger family than he’s ever had (after apologizing and making things right with the Traveler).

Now, the once lonely puppet, knows once and for all just how loved and wanted he truly is.

Taglist;

@mayurricon @mis-disaster @vvyeislazzy @extremelytoastybread @dreamlessnight @tiddieshakeshownu @dragontamer222

[tnsophiaonly]

I swear...

where are possessed caleus fics?? The smut ones??? Fluff?? Angst??? YANDERE??? I need my man inside of me??? I need him to start pounding into me??? Where are they??? Where are they???? WHERE ARE THEY?????

Where are my lumine smut fics??? Abyss??? Traveller??? Amab and Afab lumine??? Fingers and tongue enjoyers???? Where are they??? WHERE ARE THEY???? WHARE ARE THEY????? WHERE ARE THEYY??????? WHERE ARE THHHHHEYYYYYYY???? WHEREEE AREEE THEEEYYYYY???????????

[cc-genshin]

Traveling with Wriothesley: Day 1

"It's been a while since I came to the surface," Wriothesley said, his voice mixed with forlorn and solace.

"Does it bother you to be here?" The traveler asked while glancing at the Duke.

The man in black simply chuckles, amused by the inquiry. "Not at all," He shook his head. "I'm looking forward to traveling with you." Wriothesley nodded with a small smile, reassuring his new companion.

"It'll be a new journey ahead but it will be fun, even more now that you're with me." The traveler returned his smile, sharing a moment of mutual trust and affection.

"Oh, this little guy?" Wriothesley stopped and pointed at the otter when the traveler noticed it. "He's always hanging out there. Hah, probably curious about our affairs inside the Fortress." The traveler giggles sweetly, finding the whole situation cute. "It kinda looks like the Iudex, doesn't it?" The traveler suggested. Wriothesley laughs, finding the suggestion hilarious. "You're right. Ah, can't believe our chief of justice is just some otter in the sea." Traveler and Wriothesley kept watching the otter, sharing laughter together while waiting for their boat to arrive.

Together, they walked through the pathway leading to the Opera Epiclese. There was silence between them, but not the kind that felt awkward or uncomfortable.

As they reached the entrance of the Opera, Wriothesley stopped and turned to the traveler.

"I missed watching performances here." He admitted. But despite the longing in his words, his voice was calm as ever.

"Why don't we go in? No trial or performance is going on." The traveler offered and led the way inside.

As they stepped in, they both took a moment to admire the pristine structure, the way each corner gleamed with beauty.

"It's still the same, just like the day of my trial," Wriothesley spoke and walked ahead, letting the traveler follow his trail.

As they stood together before the Oratrice, Wriothesley pointed at the podium where he once stood.

"That's where I was questioned and sentenced guilty." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It wasn't a long trial. I quickly admitted everything, after all, what's there to hide?" Wriothesley said with a soft tone in his voice.

The traveler listens intently, staring at the stage before them.

"Lady Furina was even disappointed at how boring my trial was. Ah, how bad I felt to bring dismay to the former archon herself." Wriothesley shook his head as he grinned, finding the thought silly.

"I'm sorry... for all that you went through. No child deserves that." The traveler frowned, showing their concern for Wriothesley.

The Duke faces their way and pats their head. "Sorry for what? It's all in the past now, don't look so down." He chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

"All the things that happened before, led me here today. And now I am standing here, with you."

Wriothesley spoke with a radiant look in his eyes, showing his strength as a person who found his new place in life.

He regrets nothing. That's the kind of person he is. And that makes him even more admirable in the traveler's eyes.

#TravelingwithWrio Day 1: Part One

[Please know this is a Lumine POV fanfic. I will not tolerate any negative comments. This is also a self-insert journey x Wriothesley - where he agrees to travel with you and Paimon is non-existent. Reposting the fic itself is not allowed. Reusing my photos are OK with credit.]

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

My fic recommendations are as thus:

Heaven is closing fast on my fate

10/? chapters, 41k words, is being updated.

Au where childe is sent to fontaine to pretend to be the hydro archon, zhongli gets invited over to act as a adviser aswell. Childe x zhongli with slow burn.

Catastrophic impact of the seven

52/? Chapters, 262k words, is being updated

All 7 nations + abyss order get sent to a apocalyptic future earth, ecological, political and religious disasters insue, takes place before lyneys magic show in the archon quest.

The sweetness of tranquil waters

14/51 chapters, 42k words, is infrequently being updated.

Time travel au where post aq furina gets sent back to the start of the game with god powers and travels with lumine and paimon.

And the final one, as a bit of shameless self promotion.

The archon mafia (wip title)

2/? Chapters, 3,103 words, is being updated

Au where the archons and their main followers (eg the adepti or the church of favonious) are leaders of the local mafia. Its going to cover all the archon quests and traveler quests (yaknow, the ones with dainsleif) it does include ocs. I also have tumblr posts aabout it if you wanna read though those.

those all sound very interesting, i'll probably be looking up a couple later tonight!

[onlyhereforghosttrick]

No time to say goodbye - A PMD2 Oneshot

Yup that's right! Did you think I was joking? No I was NOT! It's here, it's done, and I am VERY EXCITED ABOUT THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before we actually get into stuff, small disclaimer; this fic contains the following:

Canon non-compliance

PMD2 Main game spoilers

PMD2 Post game spoilers

PMD2 Special episode spoilers somehow probably

Fan characters [all of which are mine] and canon characters alike

A writer who has no idea what he's doing

A beginning that came out better than the middle

and the eighth deadly sin: Acknowledgement of the fairy typing in the context of a pmd game that isn't super.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy and I hope it hurts you at least somewhat! [but like in a good way]

Makoto reached into his bag, a sense of urgency on his mind. Come on, where did I...? His thoughts were cut short and replaced with another jolt of panic as growls came from the two passages surrounding the room he was in, telling him one thing: They were closing in on him fast. His fears were quickly confirmed as the Sableye entered the room, one from each entrance, but apparently not quickly enough- as he quickly pulled out a Totter orb, slamming it towards the ground and closing his eyes to the ensuing flash.

The two staggered around slightly, confused by the bright light, and Makoto took a moment of pause to catch his breath... before quickly dashing past the passage one of them had previously been blocking. And there, on the other side were the stairs to finally lead him out of this place. It seemed he had been taking too long, though, as the Sableye had both recovered while he was climbing the stairs and were now catching up to him. Taking out the other item he had withdrawn from his bag, a blast seed, a quick spark was all it needed before the explosion was already started. Taking his last few steps through the stairs as the explosion began to now echo from behind him, each step passing through distortion after distortion until...

"HUHHHH" Makoto let out a loud gasp as he practically fell through the exit to the mystery dungeon, seemingly startling his two companions that were waiting for him to catch up on the other side. He quickly picked himself up, walking over to them. "Alright, note to self, detonating a blast seed in an attempt to cave in the exit to a mystery dungeon so you can't be followed is probably my worst idea." He brought the bag he'd been carrying around to check it again quickly. Okay, oran berries, heal seeds, reviver seeds, a few luminous orbs, apples... should be good to go.

The two he were travelling with were mons he had more than enough time to familiarize himself with. ...Well, he wasn't really sure how much time he had known them since time had been stopped for a while, but the point still stood. The two were Minami, the Grovyle he had been raising from a Treecko before all of this started happening, and Celebi, a shiny little whimsical time fairy who had for some reason decided to help them. "Well, that's your fault for misjudging their power." Celebi reminded him. Since he was a human and not a pokemon, he couldn't understand what they were saying. Instead, she had somehow managed to learn to talk to him via psychic messages, and while he wasn't sure how it worked, it made communication a lot easier, so he didn't bother questioning it.

"That, and you should try not splitting up next time. You have no idea how nerve-racking it was to imagine how poorly you would fare for an entire 12 floors with those Sableye following you." She kept putting an unnecessary amount of flair into her wording, and while that did distract a bit from the intention, he could tell her concern was genuine. "Yeah, alright, no suggesting splitting up next time, I got that. Not like we'll need to." I responded, taking my bag off my shoulder and handing it to Minami. He was the one who usually held it anyways, I just took it because dungeon items were really the only way to defend myself since I didn't have the combat techniques either of them had. "But anyways, we should get-" A shrill howl pierced past my words, a reminder of why we had to keep moving. "...going, before they show up." I finished.

In addition to the usual chasers of Dusknoir and his Sableye army, their actions had recently reached a new audience, who were somehow twice as eager to get rid of them. Two of them, both dark-types, and apparently both with names too. Makoto wasn't sure why Celebi told them that, but he supposed it made referring to them easier. The first was a Zoroark named 'Feysara'. He was very clearly the more tactically oriented and leader-y of the two, although they still managed to best him most of the time regardless. The other was an Umbreon, apparently named 'Aigiel'. Stats-wise she was a bit worse off, but sheer brutality and execution made her arguably the more dangerous of the two. Once, when talking, Celebi made a comment about 'thinking Umbreon was supposed to be an evolution tied to friendship' that he hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of. And sometimes... neither of them seemed to see it, but he thought he saw a third pokemon lurking in the shadows behind them sometimes.

Another howl cut through the lifeless trees, this one closer than the one before it. "We have to go." He quickly snapped, getting up from the slight lean he had gotten into and heading towards the next clearing. "Are you both ready?" Minami gave a nod and quickly jogged over to him to follow, but Celebi...

"I'm staying behind." That wasn't the answer he expected to hear from her. Apparently his confusion was obvious, because she quickly began explaining. "I can take them. It's not like I don't have fairy type moves or anything. Besides, someone should probably need to hold them off while you two go do what needs to be done. The passage of time is just in the clearing up ahead, and I trust you know exactly what you're doing." Makoto paused, hesitant to just leave her behind... but this was what she wanted, so he supposed it was best not to fight her over it.

"Alright. Just... tell us if something goes wrong." He accepted her wishes , continuing forwards towards the Passage of time.... towards their last hope to save the future. I can't let their sacrifices be in vain.

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

Stepping into the clearing between the continuing treeline, Celebi wasn't wrong- the passage of time was right there. Not saying a word- partially because they wouldn't be able to understand each other if they did- the two exchanged a nod, and walked forwards.

It was oddly calm as they stood before the passage, as it formed an odd rippling pattern. Walking forward into it, a sense of distortion- similar to that of the mystery dungeons, albeit somewhat different, surrounded them. Makoto knew they couldn't be held off forever, so he really just hoped that Celebi was right about them not being able to follow them through.

A rustle echoed from the trees behind them. They kept going, but Makoto figured he might as well check. Looking back, he saw Aigiel- they must have broken away from fighting Celebi, but likely only them if Feysara wasn't with her. He kept walking, until he heard something else... and turning around again... his heart stopped for a moment as he saw a Dark pulse, aimed right at an unaware Minami.

Time seemed to slow and distort as he took one step after another, pushing him out of the way... only for time to catch up again, just in time to feel the pulse impact into him and send him flying backwards.

The momentum backwards never quite stopped, just slowed enough for him to start falling instead. He saw Minami pause, before rushing ahead. He understood, though- hestitating now would make it all for nothing. And as he continued to fall, Makoto's consciousness failed him... for the last and only time.

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

When he awoke again... the sun was shining down on him as waves crashed against his unmoving body. Everything hurt. It felt like he had just been slammed in the stomach, although by what he wasn't sure.

Who was he...? He couldn't quite remember. One name came to mind, which had to be his... 'Makoto'. And the fact he was a human ...but nothing else seemed to appear to him. Was that... really all he remembered...? As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight shining down on him, he quickly realized there was someone else there: A nervous-looking Eevee.

As she seemingly realized he was both awake and had noticed her, she started rambling at impressive speeds. "A-are you okay? You were washed up here and you hadn't been moving and I was starting to get worried and- and-" He wasn't sure how he was understanding her, but asking that could wait. "O-oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet," She interrupted herself, "My name's Aigiel. What's yours?"