#bless these wonderful creators for taking the time

[avocad1s]

The Gnosis Can Wait

Requested By: No one. Original work.

CW: 5.0 spoilers below this line!!! 5.0 spoilers below this line! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Summary: After his battle with Mavuika, Capitano was left injured. He retreats wanting to replan his strategy when he runs into you, the Creator, who had just descended to Teyvat.

Note: So how are you all liking Natlan? As of right now I think it’s okay only because I want to return to Fontaine 😞

Capitano wasn’t used to the taste of defeat.

As number one in the Fatui harbingers and the strongest amongst them no doubt, he is used to winning every match he partakes in. Or for his opponents to concede before the battle even begins.

Yet he doesn’t take it to heart, he knows the outcomes of every battle can differ in many different ways and he isn’t arrogant about his strength.

Mavuika was a God after all. Even though his power rivals hers, he knew he would have to best her with a foolproof strategy and it seemed barging in wasn’t the right one. She was a worthy opponent.

Capitano returns to his camp, the pain in his chest still burning from the small wound Mavuika left on him. He can wait, once his wound heals then he will strike her again, only this time he won’t miss. At least he has an ally in his pocket keeping him up to date on all the politics within Natlan.

“My lord,” Capitano’s right hand, Rezanov begins while bowing. “We found footprints nearby. We believe someone might stumble into camp soon…”

Capitano lets out a sigh underneath his mask, “how many people?”

“We believe only one, there’s only one track of footprints.”

Only one person? Nothing really to worry about. Unless this person is returning to tell the Archon his location.

“Find them and bring them here.” He orders and Rezanov nods and quickly takes off.

———

Okay… don’t freak out. Don’t freak out…

You just woke up in Genshin Impact.

You remember waiting impatiently by your PC for the newest update to the game, but you must’ve fallen asleep while waiting. Now you were dreaming about the it? Jeez, even in your own dreams you thought about the game. You really needed to touch grass. (lol jk jk luv you all)

You were dreaming about Natlan… a nation that you haven’t even played yet. You couldn’t have had a dream about your favorite nation? Or meeting all your favorite characters?

But everything felt so real. Even after watching the trailer and the leaks you’ve seen online, there’s no way you could know such detail about the nation. Maybe it was just your mind filling in the gaps…

“Stop right there!”

You turn around and your blood runs immediately cold. It was two fatui skirmishers and one fatui agent. You don’t even know the amount of times you’ve killed these enemies for their drops or just for the fun of it.

So this is how you die… at least this is better than falling into the claws of Childe, who you’d beat up anytime you built a new character.

“Our lord the Captain will deal with you, come with us with no fight.”

Scratch that. This was much, much worse…

“Wait… isn’t that…?” One of them whispered.

They put down their weapons, looks of remorse on their faces.

“Your Grace… please for give our imprudence we had no idea it was you…” Rezanov. “Please come with us, the Captain would be delighted to see you.”

Right… you’ve read fanfics like this before. Believing you’re their Creator… you wonder if your blood was gold. Perhaps you could check later. For now, you were going to follow them, it’s not like Capitano has appeared in the game you can get a first time look at him.

You follow the trio deeper into the forest, a small fireplace in the distance, you could only assume the Captain would be there.

“My lord, we found who was trailing around camp. Their Grace has decided to bless us with their presence on Teyvat once more.”

Capitano turns around and say nothing for what felt like forever. Even with the helmet, you knew he was staring intently at you.

“Your Grace.” He finally says, his voice much softer than you ever expected. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

He approached, towering over you.

“You three. Fetch Their Grace some food—“ he looks down at you once more. “And a change of clothes.”

You feel embarrassment creep up your neck. What’s wrong with your pajamas? Could he tell they weren’t from this word?

He holds out his hand, and you take it being able to feel the warmth underneath the glove. This dream was much realer than you thought…

Capitano leads you to his large tent holding the flaps open so you could enter. “We weren’t expecting your arrival so I apologize for the lack of preparations…”

You shake your head, “everything is fine.” Not like you’d be here forever…

“You can have my tent You Grace, I will camp outside.” He adds.

You furrow your eyebrows, “this tent is big enough for two people, can’t we just share it?”

Capitano doesn’t say nothing for a moment, you fear you’ve might’ve offended him with your offer but it was the complete opposite. Capitano felt as if he was on top of the world, to share a camp with the Creator? To be able to protect you? To see your sleeping face…

He feels his cheeks grow crimson and he is eternally grateful for his helmet. “Of course, if that’s what you wish Your Grace…”

The flaps to the tent open and Rezanov enters the tent. “My lord, we've received word that the Pyro Archon has lost much of her power.”

“Although your injury complicates things, this is most certainly the opportune time to seize the Gnosis...”

Capitano was slightly irritated with his subordinate’s unwarranted entry but he wouldn’t do anything yet, not while you were right in front of him.

“The Gnosis can wait, we have more important matters…” he replies, his focus never leaving you.

© avocad1s 2024

Note: Capitano was the highlight of Natlan for me. Sorry but i’m a Fatui Harbinger glazer 😞 why’d they make them so fine? It’s not fair… Now here’s to hoping my man is playable, saving all my primos for him so he better not disappoint.

Edit: I know Mavuika isn’t a God but I’m thinking Capitano wouldn’t know that since she’s the only one of the Seven that isn’t a one which is where I went with this fic

[critrolestats]

New Blood, Old Regards

Thanks to @eyeofthenewt1 for this art piece!

Greetings! Although the Stats Team is still in a state of retirement, we’ve periodically updated several of our Campaign 3 Running Stats categories and galleries thanks to the efforts of a new team of data collectors. This team, consisting of Archivists Astral, Ethereal, Fey, and Shadow, have been preparing since the beginning of the year to launch their own site, and that day has come! With that, we’re pleased to present:

The Omen Archive

Although they have been providing CritRoleStats updates for our Campaign 3 records, their site will be its own thing with its own tools, toys, and focuses, such as graphics derived from their own databases of data. Please visit them at their website, reach out to them, and check them out on their various social media pages:

Website: https://www.omenarchive.com/

Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/omenarchive

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/omenarchive.bsky.social

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/omen_archive/

Tumblr: https://omenarchive.tumblr.com/ ( @omenarchive )

CritRoleStats will continue to update our databases and running stats pages with the data we receive from the Omen Archive until the end of the campaign, so that anyone from academics to casual fans have access to a complete catalogue of three campaigns worth of data. After that, our site will be completely (accessibly) archived, and our legacy will be carried on entirely by projects like the Omen Archive.

Thanks Are In Order

Outside of our final livecast, we realize we went out without the proper thanks to the community members who helped us grow. We’d like to take this opportunity to give credit where we feel it’s due.

We’d like to thank the team at Critical Role for their support over the years, with special thanks to Dani Carr for both her wonderful spirit, tenacious work ethic, and the marvelous send-off she gave us.

We’d like to thank the creators in the community. Thank you to the artist community for letting us feature your wonderful talent to give vibrancy to the numbers and words we’ve filled. Thank you to the information gathering community, from the wiki workers to the meta analysts, for giving your time to help make Critical Role more accessible. Thank you to the academics for finding value we didn’t know we had in our work. Thank you to everyone who creates in this community, whether your medium is music, words, stats, or art; whether you share for a large audience or for the joy of your private home or table; whether you encourage others with high presence, or quietly inspire and support from the shadows. Your creation makes the world a more interesting place.

We’d like to thank both our patrons and our Ko-Fi supporters for allowing us to carry on for as long as we have, and to make sure our work can continue to reach those who want to be informed and inspired. Thank you to our regular visitors, as well; traffic is supportive in several ways!

Thank you to those who have been with us, whether it’s the very beginning, sometime in the middle, or even if you’re tuning in just now. Your patronage and your expression of value in our work has been a blessing. (Thanks for the 1d4.) We’d also like to thank everyone who has continued to visit the site in spite of the lack of regular content creation on our part, and are grateful that so many of you are still finding use in the previous campaigns’ worth of data, as well as the current one.

We love you all very much. Now, back to retirement!

[hyperstell4r]

No Church in the Wild

Finding yourself in a new world, you worry that your status as an outworlder will raise suspicion among the people in Teyvat. However, as you befriend the many characters you meet along the way, there seems to be a special connection between you and this world - you realise you worried over nothing. (or: isekai sagau headcanons with creator!reader) Words: 798

Sunlight pours through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting a warm glow on your skin. You expect to see the familiar ceiling of your room when you open your eyes, however, the soft chirping of birds and the faint chattering of squirrels tell you to expect otherwise.

When you sit up to take in your surroundings, the sight that lies before you is not that of your room, but a massive tree providing shade in the otherwise empty plain. Taking in the gorgeous scenery, a glowing teal butterfly catches your attention, leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake.

You soon realise what you saw is actually a crystalfly, a creature that should only exist in -

Oh this cannot be real.

Processing that you've somehow been transported to a world that should only exist in a game is an adjustment, to say the least. Deciding you need to find work if you ever want to live a normal life in this world, you join the Adventurer’s Guild. It pays well and gives you the chance to travel to different nations on the pretence of completing commissions. 

When you’re out late at night in Liyue Harbor, you find yourself gravitating towards the Wanmin restaurant. Xinyan looks up from taste-testing Xiangling’s new recipe to wave and call you over. Ever so thoughtful, Xiangling quickly makes you a bowl so you have something to eat while you talk to them. The two of them let you sit down and talk whenever you need them to lend an ear - bless them. Sometimes when you visit the restaurant, Shenhe is there too. She appreciates being able to relax in your company, seeing how you never force her to participate in the conversation while you respond to Guoba's cheerful chirps.

Nilou's dance all but mesmerises you when you watch her practicing a new choreography, perfecting her steps. You only realise you’ve been staring by the time she finishes her dance. The girl stops you from apologising for your rudeness, inviting you to watch her next performance at the Grand Bazaar. From then on, you attend as many of Nilou’s performances as you can, always bringing her water and snacks for the both of you to share while you celebrate another dance well done. There's an especially important performance one day. When you present to her the bouquet of Padisarahs you so carefully prepared, they are the most resplendent flowers that the dancer has ever seen. She almost wonders if you witnessed the Padisarah bloom for the Goddess of Flowers all those years ago.

Of course, being a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, you often have run-ins with Bennett, Fischl, and Razor. You join them on their picnics, admiring the scenery together as you tell them stories from your world. Your friends listen intently while you speak of horseless wagons made of metal and buildings that scrape the sky. It's hard to tell whether they are just being polite, or if they are extremely invested in the concept of electric toothbrushes. Nevertheless, you always enjoy these times you spend together. The weather is always perfect and you never see monsters around, as if nature itself wishes to please you.

Beidou warns you to be careful when you sit on the edge of the Crux, your legs dangling above the water; but she can't help the smile that comes with watching you and Kazuha excitedly exchange songs and poetry of the respective worlds you hail from. Your voice carries an indescribable peacefulness to it as the world seems to bend to your song. A gentle breeze blows through your hair, and you swear you can hear a faint whisper. There's one time you fall over the edge and start plummeting towards the ocean below. Kazuha reaches out to catch you a moment too late; but before you hit the water, a gust of wind lifts you up. The whispering is more apparent this time, almost as if the wind is giggling, teasing you endlessly. Kazuha, seeing your flustered expression, can't help but smile as he thinks, so you can hear it too.

You find Kirara makes an excellent adventuring partner. You often run into each other, sometimes deciding to go fishing together as a break. You opt for a rod from the Fishing Association while Kirara prefers to rely on her feline instincts, jumping into the lake. When the sky grows dark and you're sitting on the beach enjoying the grilled fish you prepared, the courier points out how brightly the stars are shining tonight - as well as how much they resemble your eyes.

In your new life, the people of Teyvat are ever so good to you and you hope for this peace to last forever, but it seems you have spoken too soon.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[m1d-45]

dead leaves

summary: the creator is meant to be worshipped and praised, exalted to the highest of high. so… what went wrong?

word count: 1.2k

-> warnings: mentions of blood, you die multiple times, bitter(?) ending, spoilers for xiao lore (but it’s not said to be xiao specifically so technically you could read and just not know it’s him but now that i’ve said that you know it’s him so-)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< masterlist > || next >

it wasn’t meant to happen like this.

it was never to occur at all, in fairness, but like this?

the clouds parted to make way for a single glitering star, shining a white hot gold. the whole world turned, stopped and stared in awe, every leaf on every stalk bearing witness to the one they called god.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the golden shine poured through the tall windows of a palace meant for you, the heretic in a crown ordering your people to betray you. their hands shook where their followers could not see—perhaps even they were aware of why the trees were rejoicing.

you, blessed you, torn from your home by the divinity in your blood, picking yourself up from sand with barely a vague memory of your location. walk, climb, walk again, and that’s where you learned how to swim, led on by the crumbling stone of barbatos’ statue. the squirrels chittered and the hilichurls retreated, not wanting to frighten you, bandaged hands seeking shields and clubs to keep busy instead.

mondstat is the nation of anemo. happy and bustling, merchants calling across courtyards, adventurers waking with the sun to continue their trade. a cool breeze welcomed you, tugging you along a stone bridge, the winds quiet.

so quiet, in fact, that the archon stirred from his slumber early, reaching for his bow.

you never even made it to the city gates. the doves on the bridge hopped closer as you approached, the knights on duty watching how eagerly they pressed themselves against you. a nod, a twist, a chain of knights leading up to the headquarters, all set on edge the moment the acting grandmaster cleared them to engage.

the first casualty was a bird. it had flung itself into the air, halting the arrow in its tracks, drawing your attention to the man standing atop the city wall. another bird died before you understood his crime.

leaves dappled the ground in shades of green, warm light falling on you as you ran. you didn’t know where you were going, really, and why would you? who had a contingency plan for when everyone they loved turned away? the river tumbled over smoothed rocks, the bright beacon of the statue of the seven pleading for forgiveness even as it’s archon wanted you dead.

mondstat was the city of freedom. could it still be called that when you bled out before you could reach the border?

you couldn’t die. literally, you couldn’t. ley lines converged where you were crossed, absorbing the dissipating flakes of your physical body. the earth hummed beneath the anemo archon’s feet as he watched divine blue blood be sucked up and swept away. was it a hallucination? how would he know?

elemental energy coursed through the earth, sprouting again at the geo through which it bled, releasing the holy light it carried and supplementing with its own. within the hour your eyes opened again, unsure whether to pray it was a dream or wonder which god could hear you.

liyue, nation of geo. the stone hummed beneath your feet, though you didn’t walk toward the city. you’d learned your lesson fast, and a spear to the gut would certainly take longer to kill than an arrow to the neck. not that it mattered, of course—the adepti are too in tune with the land to not have noticed your arrival.

as it turned out a spear does hurt more, which you learned when you found it sprouting from your stomach in the split second before the pain hit. bright jade stained blue, betrayal glimpsed in the dying eyes of the one alatus once called his savior.

and it began anew.

teyvat bubbled with anger, torn between enacting vengeance on those that hurt its maker and protecting you. you were taken to places of shelter, but people learned to follow where nature raged loudest. even if they didn’t, if storms kicked up in false alarm to draw them away, intuition toward their creator was sewn into the hems of every living creature. hilichurls could only hold up for so long, and the millelith were used to dealing with vishaps. the dense forests of sumeru were memorized by the most vigilant forest watcher, the consecrated beasts in the desert too big to keep up with the agility of the general mahamatra.

how cruel for you to die like this, at the hands of the ones you should have been able to trust. how cruel for you to die at all, stabbed in the back by those who should have worshipped you.

the one on your throne was tolerated, just barely so, rationalized as the people needing an idol to follow in your continued absence. but now you were here, now they had no reason to be, and visions began to go haywire whenever they entered the throne room. boars outran hunters, trees tangling over boots as nature wrought vengeance on behalf of its god.

you were everything.

every scholar sought to understood your world further, your spirit found in every star in the sky. to study the world was to study you, how every string was woven into the universe. when you looked to the earth the soil said hello, the trees bowing before their creator, and yet your most beloved artwork was the one that hated you the most. was it hubristic to think a mortal could truly kill a god, or pathetic that they believed the fraud so quickly? they didn’t have elemental energy buzzing at their fingertips, they didn’t have the respect of the world, only commanding people, those easily swayed by a similar face and lucky coincidences. they were nothing like you, you who held galaxies in your blood, you who created the sky and the seas and the creatures within, who created everything. who was everything.

…and now you were nothing. lost in the ley lines that frantically searched for a place to host your body, outrunning the hunt for the god of all. nothing, half conscious in the heart of the earth, within a cave that had cracked open for this very purpose. hidden, the entrance sealed by stone itself, only allowing in slimes that helped sustain you. how cruel, the skies wept, torrents of rain falling in punishment. the fraud barely left the palace anymore, which was only standing thanks to reinforcement from the geo archon. were it not for their lie, they would be dead a thousand times over, killed in every way you had.

but they were in the palace, hidden where the world could not reach. so stone cradled your body, carefully ensuring you still continued to breathe, leylines redirecting to offer energy. not awake, not asleep, stuck in a stasis while hell raged around you.

it’s alright. teyvat would have its revenge eventually. lightning would find its way into the palace, someone would bring something carrying elemental energy into the throne room, something. the fake would die and you would be born anew from the earth, weak and tired but alive, most importantly.

anemo brushes off dust that begins to settle in your clothes, hydro doing its best to soothe the cracks on your lips. geo rolls you over so you don’t bruise, dendro adjusting its net of vines to keep you stable.

eventually…

[adiluv-moved]

✦ : ❝ 𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞 !

꒰synopsis꒱ in which you’re hurt, and it affects scaramouche far more than he’d like to admit. 1165 words.

꒰warnings꒱ angst, non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood, scaramouche needs a hug and a hot cup of tea ꒰as a treat꒱.

꒰adi moment꒱ literally cannot stop naming my fics after songs! genuinely so fun! anyway, it's been a while since i've written any angst, so here's an attempt at writing some for mr. mouche! i hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི..◜ᴗ◝..꒱ྀི১

Bright lights, foreign machinery, gloved hands, white fabric stained red. The oppressive stench of antiseptic weighs heavy in the air, tainted only by the faint hint of something metallic, and were his mechanical body capable of accomplishing such a fear, Scaramouche is certain that it would’ve caused him to faint.

Pushing past patients and staff alike, he comes to deem the hypothetical preferable. A mercy, really, one that his creator was much too cruel to bestow upon him, one that he knew the Doctor would loathe to bless him with. What he wouldn’t give to lie back down on that cold vivisection table, gears and wires jutting out of porcelain skin. To have been in the right place at the right time, to have been attacked in your stead, to see you carrying on at one of the many other Fatui camps, none the wiser as to the tortures he’s endured. For your sake, no less.

꒰Because he could handle it. Because those wounds would heal.꒱

Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal. 

He bumps into a particularly rowdy patient, then, catches himself as she’s sent stumbling into a wall. The coat of her uniform, worn proudly atop her medical gown, looks more akin to something out of a Fontainian horror film than official garb, ripped up and stained to an almost unrecognizable state. One of the injured, clearly. One of the other soldiers by your side. So why was it that she could walk around just fine?

The blood drains from her face as she whirls around to confront him, a look of abject horror taking the place of her previous scowl. Static wells up in the air, and she quickly kneels, though her body seems to protest the sudden movement. Insults swirl around in his mind, and Electro gathers at his fingertips, yet he finds himself paralyzed before her, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as she trembles. Like a leaf caught in the midst of a hurricane.

Somewhere out in the Inazuman countryside, a child plucks one off a branch, bright red pressed against his cheek to match his dutifully applied eyeliner. An abrupt gust of wind rips it from the tiny hand, whisking it away to someplace neither can follow. The boy tries anyway. The puppet finds that he can’t keep up.

꒰The boy slips out of his sight entirely.꒱

The pit within his chest grows impossibly larger, the bāchīs attached to his hat colliding with her figure as he turns around. She breathes out a sigh of relief, and he hears somebody rush over to help her up. He’d deal with it later.

Save for your unconscious body, your hospital room is empty when he arrives. A small table sits before your bed, and a bouquet of unbloomed flowers obscures the view of your face, droplets of water condensing on the surface of the clear vase. This is not done for other patients, he knows. A small part of him can’t help but wonder whether the gesture was for your sake or his.

He’s hardly in control of his limbs as he enters the space, closes his eyes only to see glances of a golden feather and fire and blood dripping out of an ornate, handheld box, and—His fingers curl around the top rail of a chair, pulling it to your bedside. A small, shaky, pathetic noise escapes him as he sits, a hand shooting up to readjust the hat sitting atop his head. The bells attached to it mock him. It takes an embarrassing amount of self-restraint to keep from throwing it across the room, though he eventually settles for laying it onto the floor beside him. 

Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal.

There is something fragile, foul, and bloody resting inside of your chest. Like a winding key, almost, he remembers the blacksmiths telling him, a tool that powers humans, not unlike the electricity that powered him. A heart. 

He had wanted one of his own, once, back when he was young and stupid. So he could feel, just as humans felt. So he could love, just as humans loved. So he could be, just as humans did. But he was smarter, now, outgrown the foolish name he’d been given, the banal traditions taught to him, the disgusting emotions that they’d once defiled his hollow chest with. And only now, in some sick twist of fate, was his childish dream finally realized.

꒰What have you done to him?꒱

His fingertips tentatively graze over the middle of your bandaged chest, almost as if you were made of glass, almost as if he feared that his touch might shatter you. He could shatter you, really, if he wanted to; would, even, if it were anybody else lying before him. You’re lucky in that sense, he muses, yet it seemed that not even luck could lessen the extent of your injuries. You were human, after all. Inherently weak. Easily breakable. Why you so foolishly chose to rush into battle rather than wait for his return, he doubts even the Goddess of Wisdom would be able to understand.

꒰He could’ve protected you. Why didn’t you let him protect you?꒱

You don’t stir as he moves his chair closer, wood scraping against wood until his legs are pressed uncomfortably against the side of the mattress. Although he refuses to worship any God, he finds himself praying that your eyes don’t suddenly shoot open to witness him in such a demeaning state. You’ve never taken your wounds seriously, after all, and he doubts he’d be able to handle your asinine nonchalance. More than that, however, should the pain overwhelm you past your limit, he knows he won’t be able to handle your grief.

He sucks in a breath, unnecessary as it is. Then another, only to find it catching in his throat. His hands tremble, and he bows his head. He, the Balladeer. He, the son of Baal. He, a discarded puppet, lays his head directly atop your heart, hangs onto its every beat like a devout, and sullies your bandages with the tears of a failed creation.

You’re here with him. Unconscious, but breathing. It is not enough, but it will do, at least for the time being. Because you’ll wake up. Because you have to. Because he loves you, like a fool, like humans do.

Because Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal.

A nurse enters your room the next morning, golden rays of light streaming through the window and onto your bed. The Balladeer sleeps alongside you, hands clutching desperately onto the fabric of the thick coat now carefully draped over your body. His makeup is smudged, red eyeliner streaking down his face, the gorgeous strands of his indigo hair splayed out messily around him. They consider waking him, though the thought is quickly abandoned. Even they know to choose their battles wisely. 

꒰A tear slides down his cheek. They close the door behind them when they leave.꒱

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt14

Cloak and Dagger of the Archons

(Summary): Finally getting tired of their helpless position the archons decide to take action into their own hands

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Yae Miko, Ei, Nahida, Zhongli, Venti, Furina, Mavuika,

(Tags/Warnings): Mavuika archon name might be wrong (will change it if is), Mavuika might be ooc, not proof read

(Word Count): 1.4k

A soft hum reverberates throughout the halls. The humming comes from a sly fox familiar, finally making her way to a room she slides open the shoji to reveal an empty room

“Okay Ei, it’s time to come out.” Yae announces. “Ei? You know I’m impatient, It’s been so boring without you lately.” The Miko whined

Met with silence the pink haired woman focused on sensing the familiar consciousness of her master, only to find nothing

Confused she didn’t notice a soldier walking past only to stop once he spotted her. “Ohh, Lady Yae. If you’re looking for the Shogun, she’s not here.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s not here?’ Where else would she be?”

“I don’t know, but a man from Liyue came and she left with him.” The soldier explained

“Hmm, where could she have gone?”

“Achooo!” Sneezed the purple haired archon

“Bless you.” The littlest archon said

“Thank you, Buer.”

“Hehe, the almighty Shogun sneezing, I thought I never see the day.” Venti giggled

“I don’t see it to be a laughing matter, it could be due to someone talking about me, I just wonder who.” Ei pondered

“What is the deal with this domain, Morax?” Mavuika asked the taller gentleman

“This domain is what I assume to have belonged to their Grace when they still were with us.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Ei asked

“And why weren’t we made aware of its existence?!” Furina asked

“I apologize but I didn’t want the existence of this domain be known by that imposter.”

The archons all looked at each other with concern expressions at the mention of your doppelganger, Nahida turns to look at Zhongli

“How did you come across this domain, Morax?”

“It was right after their Grace’s death.” Zhongli began

He remembers that day as if it had happened yesterday. The skies pouring rain down onto the geo archon, as if Teyvat was itself is mourning the loss of its creator

As he kept on walking through the field, the clouds part to reveal the field has sprouted many flowers. Flowers that glitter in the sun in the same manner your blood did when spilled

The flowers tell a story of a battle that fought here, a battle that you had to fight on your own. Rage and sorrow fills the god, he falls to his knees and frantically began to rip the flowers out of the ground as tears ran down his face. He could have been there to help you, to at least protect you, but you felt like you needed to fight this battle alone

why?

Why?

WHY?!

WHY WHY WHY?!?!

Why did things have to end like this? Why wasn’t he there to stop this from happening?!

Morax wailed and wailed until his throat started hurting. When he stopped he saw a petal with a light blue aura floating above the ground

Reaching out towards the petal he was instantly transported somewhere

A domain of sorts, its walls were lined with gold and lapis lazuli embedded into them. It was massive and empty, like it had been subject to neglect, it was luxurious none the less.

A place that reminded the dragon of you and it dawned on him that this domain belonged to you, whatever the reason you abandoned it, it will be a monument to you and your greatness

Zhongli finished telling the other archons and they all had mournful looks on their faces

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Morax.” Mavuika consoled

“It was a very difficult time, but I rather have this domain be in my hands than anyone else’s, Aym.”

“You should be proud of the work you amassed theoughout the centuries.” Ei said as she looked at the bookshelves that reach the ceiling

“Only the best for their Grace, and might I ask do you know what’s behind that door?” Furina asked gesturing towards the door

“Unfortunately I do not. I was hoping for their Grace to know when they descended.” Zhongli explained

Venti leans in towards the door to examine the keyhole, instead of it being the standard keyhole it was circular with 4 other smaller circles extended from the larger one

“It’s a pretty odd keyhole. I’m surprised you didn’t try to bust it down through brute force.” Venti giggled. The archons looked at the elder archon who is looking down a bit shamefully. “Well I wonder what’s behind this door.”

“It might be due to them wanting to hide something.” All the archons whipped their heads towards Ei. “I remember one time when their Grace visited Inazuma they called themselves a ‘monster’ especially after ‘what they done.’ When I tried to press further they refused to elaborate.” Ei explained

“It didn’t help that their Grace was very secretive about their past. I’m pretty sure that the knowledge we have on them is already common.”

As the gods talked amongst themselves the littlest of them pondered and pondered until it dawned on her

“Maybe there’s something in the Akademiya’s secret archives.” Nahida spoke out

“Why do you did there’s something useful to us is in some place so dusty.” Venti asked as he continued on with the other archons

The gods followed as the littlest one lead them through the secret basement

“This is where the supposed belongings of their Grace.” Nahida explained as she kept walking until she stopped in front of a large door

Nahida placed her hand on the door and it lit up with a green aura before the doors open. “It should be in here.” She continued to walk

“Why do you seem uncertain about the ‘key’ being here?” Furina asked

“Oh well, I didn’t know of this place when I was imprisoned.”

“What?!” Ei, Furina, and Mavuika said in unison

After several minutes of explaining Nahida’s imprisonment by her people

“How awful, I will teach you how to use a sword to strike down those traitors!” Ei said as Mavuika nodded her head in agreement

“N-no thank you!” Nahida shot the offer down

“How about taking those snakes to trial! If they think they can imprison a god then they should have the courage to face one in court!” Furina exclaimed

“They were already taken care of.” Nahida said trying to calm the three archons down. “With the help of the traveler and their Grace they freed me from my prison. Though, I don’t have any memories of their Grace when they walked Teyvat, they try to make it up to me.”

“You’re my daughter now, I don’t care what anyone says.” Your voice rings throughout her ears causing her heart to fill with joy, visiting various places across Teyvat was already enough for her. “I want you to see the world as it is, so let’s go exploring, Nahida!” You encouraged making Nahida smile

Bringing herself back, Nahida looks up at the archons who are smiling at her

“Did that imposter know of your imprisonment?” Venti asked

The bright smile quickly fell off of Nahida’s face and the other archons already knew the answer

“How vile! Them standing by while an archon was imprisoned by her own people!” Ei clenched her fists

“We should stop stalling before we get even more sidetracked.” Zhongli said seeming stoic as ever but the others could tell his anger was steeping through by the slight tremor that could be felt on the ground

The archons decided it was best to continue and began looking through the artifacts. Many of which were obviously fake and thus toss to the side, this continued for a good few hours until one of them felt a faint presence

Ei holds up what looks to be a brooch up for the archons to get a proper look. Upon closer examination they all could see that the brooch had 4 empty slots for something circular to be slotted into them

“Is that what I think it is?” Venti asked amazed

“That is no doubt that the brooch belonged to their Grace by the faint aura it is emitting.” Zhongli confirmed

Quickly taking the petal out of his breast pocket and transporting him and the others to the domain. Ei hands the brooch to Zhongli and walks towards the door to bring it to the keyhole

It fits perfectly

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06 @desirabletravel

[heartfullofleeches]

Tsun Yan Camboy + G.N Loser Reader- [mdni]

A chronically online shut in and the roommate blessed misfortunate enough to bunk with them.

God - he can't stand you. How can you even consider yourself his roommate? All you ever do all day is hole yourself up in your room wasting the day away watching your favorite streamers and actors - and when you do leave, all you ever talk about is them. It's disgusting - you're disgusting. He should find another roommate and be done with you. There you go again babbling on about your fav streamer reading your message today .....why don't your eyes ever light up like that when he's talking to you?...

Your roommate eventually gets fed up and steals your phone while you're sleeping. What do they have that he doesn't? Granted, you had made a move on him when he first moved which he quickly shot down. Undressing him with your eyes, hurling disgusting flirts and taking any chance to grope at him in close counters. His heart leapt straight into his pants remembering the last time he accidentally left the door open a crack and caught you staring like a predator to prey - belittling him more to just a slab of meat. It made him sick... it made him feel desired.

All these creators on your feed. Your messages are nothing short of repulsive too. A little bit of skin exposed and you just couldn't help yourself. He could do it too. Better than all the little tramps that caught your eye. It would be easy too. Everyone always complimented him on his physical appearance anyways - always trying to offer him their couch while things with you were getting figured out when the only place he wanted to be was your bed.

He got to work as soon as he returned your phone - creating various accounts on sites you frequented and buying everything he needed to get started. He even obtained a gym membership to work on his flexibility and thighs which he later switched to home training as his popularity grew; giving you the middle finger whenever you inquired where he was going and made the indepth observation his ass had gotten bigger than you remembered this past few weeks.

It didn't take long for him to gain traction.

A lot of the things you enjoyed could apply to the masses and he put more effort into his research than anything he had prior - even just confessing his love. He wore the outfits you loved, spoke in the breathy tones you liked, and on those specially lonely nights - he spanned your messages with invites for his pages so frequently you probably wouldn't checked him out sooner if you hadn't thought they were bots. None of the fame, fans or money really mattered - until he saw that familiar name in his inbox.

"Hey gorgeous, loved your vids~ hope you would do me the pleasure of texting me back sometime."

And he did - everyday. You're such an utter mess when it comes to acting like a functional being it's no wonder you were blocked by a few streamers before he thinned the list out - but it was the cutest thing. He was jealous of his own self now for having your full attention, but the anonymity allowed him to do things for he normally wouldn't in a million years- like spreading his legs open on his desk and showing you what exactly your sweet, fucked up words do to him.

To combat the threat of you finding his identity he wears cute masks and wigs - eventually earning enough to rent a small apartment to keep you fully in the dark. You might point out a mole on his backside in the same place as your new favorite streamer, but a quick dick pic from said individual draws whatever conversation you started to a close. Always searches for your recommendations out of thousands when asking for input on his next fit/scene and calls all of his followers his subjects - while wearing a choker that says master on it. It's still a little irritating to hear you ramble about some bitch you found online - but being that bitch makes it all worth it.

"You should see dude's hips... I mean - the handles on this guy.... don't even get me started on the things he does with his tongue.

Your roommate scoffs and rolls his eyes - nursing a sucker between his lips as he hits order on the swim suit you suggested to him and sends you the confirmation email along with a good morning

[vesora]

imagining creates

one of the most important lectures in LOA

The creator of the world works in the depth of your soul, underlying all of your faculties, including perception and streams into your surface mind least disguised in the form of creative fancy. Watch your thoughts, and you will catch Him in the act of creating, for He is your very Self. Every moment of time you are imagining what you are conscious of, and if you do not forget what you are imagining and it comes to pass, you have found the creative cause of your world.

God is Pure Imagination

Because God is pure imagination and the only creator, if you imagine a state and bring it to pass, you have found Him. Remember: God is your consciousness, your I AM; so when you are imagining, God is doing it. If you imagine and forget what you imagine, you may not recognize your harvest when it appears. It may be good, bad, or indifferent, but if you forget how it came into being, you have not found God. You do not have to be rich to be happy but you must be imaginative. You could have great wealth and be afraid of tomorrow's needs, or have nothing and travel the world over, for all things exist in your own wonderful human imagination.

The Present Moment

The present moment is a formed imaginal act. I urge you to shape your world from within and no longer from without. Describe yourself as you would like to be seen by others and believe your words. Walk in the assumption they are true and - because no power can thwart God - what He is imagining, you will experience. You are not someone apart from God, for I AM cannot be divided. The Lord, our God, is one I AM, not two! If God's I AM and your I AM is the same I AM, define what you would like to be. Then believe you are the Lord!

This is how the law works. It never fails if you will go all out and believe that your human imagination is God. Because God cannot die, he is a God of the living! So when the garment you now wear comes to its end, you - the being living in it - will continue to live. You will still be in a world just like this one until you awaken from the dream of life. Then you will move into an entirely different age, to realize the oneness of the being that you really are. Until then, believe what I am telling you, for it is true.

Imagining for Others

When you imagine for a seeming other you are blessed, for there is no other and you are giving your imaginal gift to yourself! Hear your friend tell you his good news, see the joy on his face, feel the thrill of fulfillment, and let it take place in your world. And as it does, recognize your harvest. Realize you are responsible for its consummation. The world is yourself pushed out. Ask yourself what you want and then give it to yourself! Do not question how it will come about; just go your way, knowing that the evidence of what you have done must appear, and it will.

Change That Which You Dislike

Remember: you don't have to abide by anything you dislike. It is but a vessel in your hand which is not properly shaped. Go down to the potter's house and rework it into another vessel as it seems good for you, the potter, to do. You cannot only rework your concept of self into a new one, but you can rework another. If one is not well or does not earn enough to pay his expenses, the concept is misshapen. You don't ask the vessel if you may rework it, rather you feel as though you have witnessed the change or heard the good news.

There Must Be Action

There must be action, for an idea alone produces nothing. You must act within yourself by entering the idea. When someone calls or makes a request of you, you must act upon it by producing a motor element within yourself. It may be the sound of their voice telling you it has already happened. Or you may feel the touch of his hand. Whatever you do, it must be something that takes the desire from being an idea and moves it into the creative state of fulfillment.

You Are All Imagination

How is this mystery unraveled? By claiming you are all imagination. Then wrapping yourself in space, and mentally seeing your world relative to your assumed position in space. Do that and you have moved. President Hoover once said: "Human history, through its many forms of governments, its revolutions, its wars - in fact the rise and fall of nations - could be written in terms of the rise and fall of ideas implanted in the minds of men." Here you see that the change of governments is the result of the change of ideas implanted in the mind.

Implanting the Horrors of the World

Can you now see how we are implanting the horrors of the world? Read the morning paper, watch television, or listen to the radio, and you will observe how their words frighten you in order to get your attention. See a headline that someone was murdered and you stop to read it. See another, saying things are fine, and you ignore it, as it would mean nothing. Read the scandal sheet, telling of some prominent person who has been unfaithful and you enjoy a bit of gossip. All of these are ideas implanted in the mind, which cause the rise and fall of nations.

Imagining Creates Reality

I tell you: imagining creates reality! If you want to change your life you must become aware of the ideas you are planting in the mind of others! When you meet someone who is negative, put a lovely idea in its place. Then, whenever you think of him, imagine he is telling you something lovely. And, because you now walk in a world that is not disturbed by his negative state, when he finds himself no longer thinking negative thoughts, he will never know you were its source. You will know it and that is all that is important.

Thought Awareness

Become aware of the thoughts you are thinking and you will know a more pleasant life. It makes no difference what others do; plant loving, kind thoughts and you will be blessed in the doing. I ask you now to believe in the invisible God who became you. When you say "I am", you think of the face you wear, but you are not it. You are so much greater than it could ever be. I have disclosed the one and only source of the phenomena of life. Everything that has ever happened, is happening, or will happen to you, comes from God, who is your own wonderful human imagination. I urge you to use it wisely.

What Are You Imagining?

Imagining creates reality! Have you imagined something and it hasn't come to pass? Then what are you imagining right now? Are you imagining you are John Brown? You were not born knowing you were John Brown. You were born and others began to call you John. As time passed you began to assume you were John Brown and began to respond when you heard the name John. When you imagined being secure did you forget the feeling? Are you imagining you are secure now? You may have no evidence that you are secure, but as you allow others to tell you how much you are loved and wanted, how successful and famous you are, you will begin to assume it, and imagination will have created its reality. Try it, for that reality you already are!

[sena-shi]

SAGAU but with Scheming Creator!Reader Imposter AU

PT. 1

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You were going about your day as usual when you decided to read some SAGAU Imposter AU fanfictions on the internet. The plot does not provide you with as much satisfaction as you would want, and the readers' ability to exact revenge seems too — in your opinion, quite lacking.

On the other hand, you consistently maintain a nonchalant attitude about it. You are still going to go ahead and read it, then continue scrolling until you discover another fanfiction.

A retribution in the form of exile? You probably won't find this interesting. Taking your newfound powers and using it to wipe them off as payback? That is quite thrilling; however, wouldn't it be preferable to make them regret and bear the sins of killing their one and only creator for the rest of their lives?

The shame and remorse that would slowly consume everything within them until there was nothing left.

The vivid memory of them using the blessings that you bestowed upon them to dishonour your divine existence is particularly satisfying.

The effort that you put into everything to get them to the position that they are in right now.

The memories that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives of how they used everything you blessed them with to get rid of you. 

The SAGAU AU fanfictions you've been reading have somewhat convinced you that the characters in the game can actually hear your voice, so occasionally you open the app, play the game, and talk to each character as if you think they can hear you.

The characters with the most heartbreakingly repetitive lines would receive your highest praise and reassurance.

You would hear Zhongli speak his infamous voice line, “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory?”

And you would always reply with, “If the universe permits it, I would be delighted to share a drink with you and listen all about the wonderful times you and your loved ones have had together over the years.” In the warmest, and gentlest voice you could muster.

It's possible that you've gone insane because those are only fanfictions, yet you still find amusement on doing it.

And then, all of a sudden, it was as if the heavens had listened to your thoughts and made the decision to send you to the world of your creations, directly in front of the divine statue they had sculpted just for you.

Specifically designed with you in both heart and mind. The very statue that they would bow down to and pay respect to, something that they would look upon with reverence in their eyes.

You, the one who brought them into existence. You, the one who gave them life. You, their one and only creator.

Who would have the audacity to imitate the appearance of our Diving Creator and to step foot on the sacred ground!

Our Goddess was right; now that she has chosen to descend to our humble plane, a great number of people will attempt to copy her and steal her divination while her body is still adjusting to the conditions of our realm.

“Ah,” A sound like a gentle whisper was coming from your mouth. You did not move from where you were seated on the ground, keeping your attention fixed on the floor below you, which featured the most exquisite carvings you had ever seen. A smirk grew on your lips as you tried to stifle the chuckle; perhaps it was a maniacal laughter that was threatening to break forth. Fortunately for their sanity, they were spared the trauma of seeing it.

The fake, as one could have anticipated, displays an excessive amount of caution.

You were familiar with those lines. Where they would straight out deem you as fake. Imposter AU, huh? Then you guess that there’s no need to negotiate. After all, all of them will act like rabid dogs and probably decapitate you.

You slowly lifted your head, revealing long, wavy, glittering white hair that had fallen to the ground and was streaming down your back. The color of your hair was the most pristine that any human being could ever hope to witness. And your eyes. If one were to stare into them, they would be as dark as the abyss, and upon doing so, they would reveal the universe that is contained inside themselves. It appears to be a reflection of the night sky, where stars would shine brightly in honor of the one who nurtures the world, one whom they would always protect and one whom they would always look after.

As their attention was drawn to your face, those who were entrusted with the responsibility of guarding the sacred grounds began to tense up. The eye that had the most loving gaze was staring at them, as though the person they suspected of being an imposter is connected with them.

The imposter observed them in a manner like to that of a mother observing her children.

Despite their threats, they saw how you continued to lovingly glance at them with a hint of curiosity, perhaps wondering why they are so hostile to you.

Seeing them come to a complete halt makes you feel amused, but you keep up the act as if you are a compassionate and forgiving divine entity. However, at the bottom of your heart, you secretly wish for them to be ashamed by the way in which they regarded you as a fake.

Are you too vicious with your thoughts? Maybe.

Are you meant to ignore all of it simply because they are completely devoted to you?

Then why aren't they able to recognize that the imposter, who you believe was probably seated on the throne and bearing the title of God of the Gods, is the one who is being deceitful?

Is it because of your appearance?

You maintained your position on the ground, staying perfectly still as you watched them patiently while keeping your amusement well veiled in your eyes.

The only thing that can be seen by them is a stunning woman who is smiling warmly in answer to their presence. Simply the fact that the woman was watching them caused them to increase the pressure they applied to the grips of their spears and swords.

The wind that was not intended to enter the enclosed place unexpectedly caressed their bodies as if it were talking to them—

Do not hurt our Creator.

The grounds trembled, as if enthusiastic and pleased to be blessed with your presence, that their Creator was willing to dirty their feet to step on the land. The grounds were evidently happy that their Creator was willing to bless them with your presence.

It's not even an exaggeration to say that the entire Teyvat, the first child of the Creator, is likely experiencing an incredible amount of joy just from recognizing your divinity.

The big and broad doors swung open with a bang, and the glances that your beloved and wonderful acolytes gave you as they heard that someone was copying their dear God seared deep holes into your skull. In all honesty, you would prefer to stay and witness how they will act from that point on.

My, my… You thought. Have their IQs decreased dramatically in the span of a single night as a direct result of the arrival of the real fake?

The holy grounds are far too little for a game of "hide and seek," despite how much you love to have fun playing with them. You can't wait to discover how they will deal with someone they have identified as an imposter like yourself. You are patient, and you will embrace everything they will give you.

You would counteract any evil intended for you with acts of kindness. You, in turn, wish they wouldn't let you down as the shame destroys them from the inside out.

After all, it's hard to see a mother being the source of any kind of harm to her children.

If they wish to hurt you, then so be it.

You wonder.

Who will kill you first?

Them?

Or yourself?

You heard them running after you as you escaped the place, which you didn't find particularly difficult. Your lips formed an unconscious sneer as you ran, not too fast, and not too slow. You want them to catch up to you so that everyone may play together.

And perhaps, if they decide to give you the performance you want to witness, you would forgive as any other benevolent being would.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[fantasticarcadefan]

The Stream

Part 0:The Crash

Warning:Talks about the Natlan drama,references to recent plague outbreaks, other games mentioned

It was a quiet night today, with it raining outside, and you taking refuge in your home. Your parents were on vacation, celebrating their 25th anniversary in Las Vegas for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the house, due to you being the sole occupant of your home.

Currently, you are playing Genshin Impact, having just beaten Divine Consort Radahnn in Elden Ring and needed to make sure that you didn't lose all the runes that you gained. It was sad to lose Sir Ansbach there, with him seeing you as an equal in a land where most saw you as either a lesser being, due to your status as tarnished, or prey in the eyes of the many monsters that inhabit both the lands between and the land of shadows. You couldn't help but wonder what life was like before the game, with all the monsters and beasts that lived in the lands between, especially during the shattering, where the children of the goddess Markia all fought each other for the great runes, fragments of the Elden Ring, which governed the lands between and setting up the rules of nature there.

With the release of Natlan here, you decided to go ahead and travel across Teyvat for one last time before heading off to the nation forged for war. Starting with the plains of Mondstadt, to wandering the streets of Liyue, swimming across Inazuma's islands, traversing Sumeru's forests, and hazing under Fontaine's peninsula, Teyvat was a beautiful place. One where you, like so many other players, wished that you could see with your own eyes. But alas, you couldn't, for no matter how much you could wish for it, the lands of Teyvat were kept behind the eyes of screens, preventing you from traveling there. But as you traveled across Teyvat, you couldn't help but notice new, unseen events occurring.

All across Teyvat, festivals were occurring everywhere there was a population, revolving around a "creator" of Teyvat and their "imminent descent".

In Mondstadt, the festival of freedom was being prepared, where songs were sung of how the creator gave Barbatos the strength and knowledge to help lead the revolution against the tyrant God during the Archon war, and help design the teachings of freedom for the rebels and their descendents to learn. The people of Mondstadt honor the knowledge with them helping remind their children the meaning of freedom and how they should keep it alive so their kids can have the gift their creator blessed them with..

In Liyue,the festival of the trade was occurring, which revolved around tales of the "deal of deals", where Morax made a deal with this creator, where in exchange for the knowledge to form contracts and make divine beings for his nation to be safe in the form of the Yakusha and the Adepti. he had to listen to the advice given to him by the creator, The people of Liyue honor this deal by offering deals that benefit the buyer in the long term, while having a system of favors established for when this festival is done.

In Inazuma, the nation completely changed, with it becoming a merge between Japanese culture, and something unknown with the only point of info there being based on a general history note on the corner of a planner found in Inazuma City talking about the event. "The new decor and style, now found across Inazuma, is based on a combination of Inazuman and Telaki culture, the same culture that the great creator wrote about in their scripts and desires for Teyvat, granting us the power to help make their desired eternity." EI approved the change, with her reasoning being "The creator has means to help carry their will. When I was made aware of my transgressions against the concept of eternity, I knew I had to change my ways to show eternity in the creators image", based on her new voice line regarding the festival.

In Sumeru, the festival of knowledge was occurring, where the Akademia was retelling the tales of the various scholars that had made great achievements in progress over the years,some of which had been blessed by the creator, leading to great discoveries that helped revolutionize the world of Teyvat into the world that they know it as today. Some of the other activities there involved an open house day at the Akedamida, where parents could visit their kids to see life on the campus, as well an engineering competition between the students, with the winner being granted a position at the Research Institute of Fontaine. Nahida was seen there with Scaramouche, trying to get him to be more social and comfortable with the others there. She seems to be enjoying herself there, happy to be celebrating with her people.

In Fontaine, the festival of justice has retellings of the old myths performed at the Opera Epiclese, mainly those on how the creator set the ideals of the world all day. Outside, some of the other activities there was a fireworks show at midnight, a demonstration of all the recent technological developments across the Nation's institutes, and a new short single player game mode similar to Among Us was established, partially funded by Spina Di Rosula, and helped constructed by the prisoners at the Fortress of Meropride.

With the sudden insertion of a creator for Teyvat, players have begun to draw theories on them, what they're like, and questioning Mihoyo for allowing self-inserts into the game, altering the currently established lore. However, Mihoyo denies purposely inserting a creator into the game, and is conducting an internal investigation to identify how something this big went under their radar with how big it is, with this affecting all of the versions of the game.

Yet, a small percentage of people are questioning if the game is sentient, for modders have been unable to change games files, with attempts to access them failing and being met with the phrase "No false god shall change the design set by our creator", leading to theories that this is some kind of virus, meant to attack Mihoyo for their current Natlan designs and whitewashing.

But you put those thoughts aside, thinking about how chaotic things have been this decade. From Covid at the start of the decade, to a disease called Monkeypox spreading now, this decade went off the rails. But for now, it is not about real life, for it is time for gaming, an escape from reality, you could relax in a world where you are someone else that could make direct changes to another world.

As you begin to travel to Natlan from the outskirts of Sumeru, you find the game starting to look more realistic, with the graphics improving significantly while maintaining the style often found in Mihoyo's games. The land looked amazingly beautiful and lifelike. Yet, something felt odd. It felt familiar, despite you never seeing this land before. Your gut told you to stop playing and turn off the game, oddly, but you decided to ignore it, thinking it was nothing that would put you in danger, but you built up your guard in game in case of an ambush by monsters.

As you kept traveling in the game, being wary of monsters, you felt odd. You felt tired, yet you'd only woken up 6 hours ago. You assumed that it was just boredom and tiredness and kept walking in the game slaying monsters you came across and activating way points. Despite all this, the tiredness didn't go away. Instead, it grew, with sleep becoming heavier and heavier, before you couldn't keep your eyes open. 'Is this what those with Saint Trina feel?' you wondered, falling into a slumber. As you fell asleep, you weren't sure if you heard the traveller, Aether, tell you something, but it was just a murmur to you, as you fell asleep, unprepared for what's to come.

As you fell asleep, Genshin Impact went down for everyone, with them not being able to join on any mode. The developers were unprepared for this, for they haven't released any patches for the game, and believe this to be a cyber attack on their servers, yet only Genshin seems to be the only game down as of now, and no contact has been made with any groups claiming ownership for it.

Across video streaming platforms, Genshin Streamers and Voice Actors alike are talking about the shut down, with streams ranging from theories about its origins, purpose, and those responsible occurring, with lore streams from what has been found in the new update being talked about as well. As the streams about Genshin rage, a new stream emerges. Simply dubbed "The Hunt", there's no account on each of them, with it only showing a timer on it.

Stream will start in 1:08:00:00

1:07:59:59

1:07:59:58

1:07:59:57

1:07:59:56

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

Greetings Readers this idea was given to me by @valeriele3, and I Hope you enjoyed it.

Once more, if you have any recommendations on how to improve my writing, please send it in by an ask me.

See you in the next story!

[acourtofkindness]

Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection! Some of these are one-shots, some are longer stories, just click your way through them and also check out their other fics!

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic

by @zenkindoflove and @crazy-ache After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

Summer Heat

by @zenkindoflove Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance.

playgirl

by @damedechance Under the anonymous screen name witch_hazel, Elain Archeron has been moderating the chatroom of rising OnlyFans creator, swiper-no-swiping (Lucien) for a little less than a year. When he comes to Velaris from out of town, they agree to meet up, and the unspoken attraction between them reaches a boiling point.

Separate My Body From My Soul

by @crazy-ache from the fic summary: When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Realizations, Finally

@trappedoutside124 (ao3) The meeting of the High Lords in Adriata means that Elain will be face-to-face with her mate for the first time in months. Despite herself, she can't help but wonder where he goes each evening when he leaves the castle with Vassa and Jurian. So, she decides to find out.

The Dance of Day

by @wyse-ink (ao3) It's not the first time Elain thinks she could get used to the perks of the Day Court, even if she can't get her mate out of her mind.

The Things that Go Bump in the Night

by @fieldofdaisiies At breakfast Elain and Lucien’s daughter has some questions about the things she heard the previous night, a little afraid her parents were fighting, and of course Nesta and Cassian are present, making it even more uncomfortable; this is inspired by a scene from bad moms 3

Our Hearts Still Beat the Same

by @zenkindoflove "She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat." Elucien, Two-shot, Post-ACOSF. Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

They Say I Did Something Bad

by @separatist-apologist Elain Archeron's fiance is a total stranger to her, though his family's reputation for cruelty and avarice is not. Dreading a lifetime with a cruel, cold man, Elain decides to have one last night of freedom. Attending an infamous masquerade ball, Elain meets a stranger who offers to show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It's just one night of debauchery. What could possibly go wrong?

Emissaries With Benefits

by @velidewritesWhen diplomacy fails, Prythian courtiers Elain and Lucien like to resort to a steamier kind of negotiation.

I Know Places We Won't Be Found

by @separatist-apologistapologist They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down Elain Archeron and Lucien Vanserra are two sides to the same coin, not that they'd ever know it. After nearly four years of ignoring each other, the mating bond between them, and their trauma, Lucien has had enough. While Lucien is ready for resolution, Elain is still trying to figure out who she is now that she's not human, and unravel her cauldron-blessed powers which seem to intensify with each passing year. When an accidental street fire prompts Elain to call Lucien for help, Lucien decides to take Elain from the Night Court entirely, effectively kidnapping her. Tucked away in the Spring Court, far from prying eyes, Elain will have to reconcile who she was as a human with who she is as a Fae, and decide if the man she's mated to is who she wants to spend the rest of her immortal life with.

I Like You

by @fieldofdaisiies Elain decides that she is ready to make a move towards Lucien. And yes, it is a bit sad.

All You Have Is Your Fire

by @clockwork_ashes (on ao3) 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop. Elain goes to the Autumn Court demanding an audience with the High Lord to save the mate she can barely stand to be in the same room with. She ends up having to stay much longer than she bargained for.

Tales of the Fox & the Fawn

by @lucienarcheron A series of short snippets to fill my Elucien heart <3

Heading Straight to You

by @lucienarcheron Inspired by a tumblr post I've also linked below: "I need elain to have her anthony bridgerton moment where lucien asks if she wants him to sever the bond and leave & she goes “do you think there’s a corner on this earth that you could travel to far enough to free me from this torment? you are the bane of my existence. and the object of all my desires." So I decided to give elucien their own bridgerton moment :) Enjoy!

This Time, I'm Ready

by @lucienarcheron Inspired by Long Story Short by TS. I was listening to it randomly and a scene of Elain started playing out in my head. Recommend listening to it while reading :)

Throw Me To The Flames

by @separatist-apologist Elain only ever meant to deliver a message to Vassa on behalf of her sister's court. She never intended to see Lucien. And she CERTAINLY didn't mean to get in the way of a knife that was only ever meant for his chest. Kidnapped, and dragged helpless to the continent, the two will have to work together if they want to survive.

The Last Of The Real Ones

by @separatist-apologist I'm here in search of your glory, there's been a million before me; that ultra kind of love you never walk away from. Elain Archeron finds fate to be cruel when her youngest sister, Feyre, cuts down a wolf one frozen, winter night and a beastly Faerie Lord named Tamlin demands retribution in the form of her life for the Fae lost. Elain is dragged into Prythian and eternal Spring where a mysterious blight has made magic more dangerous than ever. Navigating eternal Spring is made more difficult by Tamlin's infuriating emissary Lucien Vanserra and his sharp tongue. As the blight spins out of control, Elain will have to decide how far she's willing to go to keep her new home safe. ACoTaR re-write; just come inside.

Sounds of Summer

by @animezinglife Time seems to move more slowly in the Summer Court, and Lucien and Elain take in every second. A short scene of the two in Summer.

Never Not Mine

by @separatist-apologist Elain Archeron has been betrothed to the seventh born son of Autumn for as long as she can remember. With her family's reputation in the balance, Elain is resigned to her fate. That doesn't mean she has to like it...or that she has to make it easy for him.

[srasdoesthings]

＊✿❀Day 6: Fantasy AU❀✿＊

･ﾟﾟ･:.｡..｡.:ﾟ::✼✿

Rei and Eichi being in false dichotomies rattles in my head so so mach. Might be the wrong term but I just legit blank out whenever I see them sfjds. So for this AU and piece, I based it on Slay the Princess!! The whole change and stasis, how two seemingly opposing concepts are in essence bound together for all eternity, large ethereal beings embodying the make up of reality dancing around each other and mad in love-

Anyways :33 another blurb thingy under the cut! I find deities and myths in videogames very interesting so might as well spit it all into something for the girls🔥🔥🔥 This was beta-ed and heavily proofread by another fello femstars discord member: Cordelia!! (@kanameows) Big big thanks to her, he's really helped me straighten this out and fix up the wording to make it sound less modern nsdkjff

Sorry for rambling dhsnfkmas enjoy the short read^^

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

From the beginning of time, two great entities watched over the earth. The Greatest of the greats, the highest of the high. They were gods, deities. They ruled over concepts, embodies them. Eichi and Rei.

Despite all the worship, reverence, and adoration of the people, though, no one truly knew what dominion these gods ruled over. Years, centuries, and milleniums of myths and legends passed down from generation to generation, tainted by the interpretations of those spreading their story. Small details mutate and are discarded over time.

These different spins on their myths go as follows:

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Eichi was the God of Good and Rei was the Demon to be defeated. Eichi was born of light and she drove away the darkness that followed Rei like a shroud.

Eichi brought wonderful things such as the spring and summer, warm and bright; cheery.

Rei is followed by Autumn and Winter, windy and cold --biting at the senses, numbing everything.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Eichi was the God of Life. All living things are her subjects, each and every one blessed by her power.

Rei was the God of Death, who brings rest to the weary, comfort to the tormented, and punishment to the sinners.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Eichi was a God who strived to keep the world perfect. A tyrant creator who destroys all that mar her perfect vision.

Rei was a kind god that accepted the strange and unwanted into her arms, soothing their broken souls.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Eichi was an evil god. An evil god surrounded by wonderful things. An evil god who makes sure she's surrounded by wonderful things. She creates new flowers to hide those that wither in her hands; brought forth life to erase the dying.

Rei was a pitiful god framed by her as evil. She mourned, cried for those she has hurt; unable to protect, only able to take them under her large black wings, singing melodies of solace.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

At least, those were what the myths say...

.

.

.

.

.

But myths are products of human culture, unable to comprehend those above them. In truth:

Eichi is the God of Change; of growth and decay; of revolution and corruption. She is the passing of seasons. She is improvement and she is the loss of progress. All encompassing and always there.

Rei is the God of Stasis. The moment, an ending, and the time spend lingering in it. She is of long nights with loved ones where time holds no meaning and she is minutes stretched to hours in agony. All encompassing and always there.

There is no winner or loser, no right or wrong, and know good or bad. They are merely forces of nature, the absolute truth of the world, and the gears that turn reality. They are simply change and stasis. Simply Eichi and Rei.

･ﾟﾟ･:.｡..｡.:ﾟ::✼✿

[yourlocalstranger123]

[I was bored and wanted to take a break from writing....something 😳 👀💧]

The yandere sagau side: it's exactly the same but just a little too obsessed. They worship you, giving you sacrifices offerings. You couldn't exactly see since you have a limit to see what they offer you. You just maybe it's an item that has a shape of a human. Who knows... the experimenters like dottore and Albedo will work together to create a body for you that is made on the details of the ancient script. Ei/raiden would make the body eternity, Zhongli would put protection on it, Venti would give the blessing of the wind to alarm you of the danger and Nahida would give you knowledge since you only just protect and make people safe and ofc make them feel warm. So you don't know what's happening 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♀️🤷 and they made sure the body could at least withstand most of your power.

● Morax first felt a little alert. 'Who are you?' 'What do you want?' He was confused. He never felt a presence that felt more godly than the celestials themselves. He felt stiff. He asked the others if they felt this...presence. They say yes but it seems to have no harm. He couldn't risk it, he was still on high alert. But when the moment he was fighting, he felt protected, stronger too. Are you perhaps helping him..? Why? He did not worship you if you were a God of some kind. After the war, he cried, cried loudly as the people of liyue can hear his pain and the cries of his roaring. Suddenly he felt your presence once again but stronger. Were you here to attack him? "SHOW YOURSELF!" He yelled. Still no answer. Weird....he laid down then continued softly sobbing, mourning of his friend's death. He felt comforted though, he tried keeping it away from him, this 'comfort' feeling. But slowly he melted into it. Sleeping soundly. He felt safe. When he woke up he saw his friends, were they actually alive? Is this perhaps an illusion you made to taunt him? His knees went weak. 'No matter, even if this is fake, please...just let him hold them one more time..even if it's not real.' He actually woke up. He looked sad, as he was about to accept the death of his friends, he sees all of them. Even the yakshas came back alive. He saw Xiao on his knees sobbing in happiness. Is this your doing?...thank you..thank you so much. Truly. He accepted you. Your kindness. He made everyone know you, well the only people who didn't know you was the one who has no vision. The yaksha knows you, well only your doings and presence. They can also feel it. They worshiped you, and give you things. They weren't rich so they could only give you simple things like flowers but it didn't matter to you. They could feel the warmth grow bigger. They smiled. They wonder if you smiled back at them? Your truly a wonderful God. Slowly everyone in liyue finds out your the creator somehow and they worshiped you even more. Everyone who had one felt your presence even more. They felt very happy, truly they are blessed to have you as their creator. When Zhongli abandoned his duty as a archon, he still worshiped you. Although not fancy as it used to but he felt that you were still happy with these simple offerings. Everyone in liyue was so very happy. Azhada also felt it. He was set free and when Zhongli tried to make him go back, there was a note before he could attack. "He deserves a second chance. Let him experience the wonderful things in life. To: Rex Lapis" he was confused, was this the Morax he knew? His heart grew soft as he read the letter. Suddenly he felt his form start to change. He panicked and looked into the river. He looked like a mortal. Although he must give you credit for your taste. In the future, he brags on and on that you made a form for him. "Shall the Geo protect you with its heart."

● Heck, even the celestials were concerned and a little scared of you. 'What are you?' They thought. You felt familiar but yet not so familiar either. 'Are you an outlander?' Later they got used to it. They thought maybe you were a Supreme God that is watching over them, in the past, they were on guard. Waiting for you to strike. But....they felt a safe feeling, an addictive feeling. 'Who are you? Why are you so...nice?' Until it clicked. Are you...the creator? If you're not then why are you so nice to them?? But it does not matter no more. They will welcome and worship you even if you are a God who is an out-lander

I was too lazy. Oh well, thus is just for practice.

[anemoarchonhoe]

Commissioned by @udretlnea

Request: I'm thinking slice of life, second person, and it takes place in Mondstadt. The reader is well known and liked by practically everyone; they are currently there to observe the Alchemy Event going on right now- This is just set-up. I imagine Venti is there waiting w/ Diona for their potion order; then he sees Reader and he gets intrigued so he surprises them. The two walk out of earshot and have a pleasant chat about what's been going on- Since the fic is only 1k, I'd prefer to keep it short between them. Reader mentions how they're adjusting to their role as "Overseer of Teyvat" (implying this is a Creator!Sagau); they offhandedly mention how Khaenri'ah's been working on dimension hopping tech before Diona drags Venti away. And the fic ends with Reader feeling uneasy about opening Teyvat up, but they choose to ignore it to go and experience the event.

Thanks for commissioning me!

It is convenient; the fact that you obtained godlike power as soon as you stepped foot unto the soil of Teyvat. It had been a tremendous help in navigating these new lands you'd been transmigrated into and made life easier. Just like this time. It didn't really take long until you reached the venue where the Alchemy Event organized by the Knights of Favonius is, all due to your ability to teleport long distances. You shook your head to get out of your musings and began to look around your surroundings.

It was a modest event focused solely on alchemy. Unfamiliar faces from both Mondstadt and outside of it flocked the booths, tents and stands full of test tubes and questionably multicolored smoke to see what was happening. It soothes you to be normal for a few minutes… until people noticed you standing amongst them and bowed in your presence. The scene made you squirm a little where you stand, not totally uncomfortable but still unused to the attention. You raised a hand, as if blessing them, nodding your head to signal that they can resume the event. Which they do, but some approached you to either ask for a blessing, for guidance in their life's path, or simply to greet you. You are liked, perhaps not as loved as the archons despite ranking higher, but you prefer it that way. It's less expectations, after all.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Overseer of the world."

"Heya, Your Grace!"

You carefully made your way past the crowd to reach the two people who called out your name. You smiled in relief; finally, people you know! Venti was looking at you with a bright smile with both hands on his hips and Diona is enthusiastically waving at you. You pat Diona, which the bartender swiped at with a playful hiss.

"Venti, Diona, hi!" You greeted them. "What a surprise to see you here. This is the last place I imagined you to hang around in."

"I understand you for thinking that way, but curiosity had gotten the best of me." Venti answered, and then assumed a serious thinking pose. You rolled your eyes playfully with a thinly veiled smile. He's going to ask something ridiculous, isn't he? "If alchemy has the power to transform matter, I wonder if it could also be used to turn water into wine?"

There it is. Diona fumed, but you cover her mouth with your hand and answered. "I could turn water into wine. Easy."

Venti's eyes widened. His smile as bright as the sun above. "Really?!"

"No." You're not sure. You probably could, if you tried.

"My hopes and dreams…" Venti fake-cried and pouted, but he immediately gets over it and smiles. "Anyway, what brought you here, Overseer?" He gestures for you to walk with him, so you follow, steps falling in line with his.

"Oh, you know," you vaguely wave your hand, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. "Just looking around. I got curious myself about alchemy so I came."

"Ah, I see," Venti nodded. You mentioned to him and the other archons on one of the traditional divine get togethers — brought back by Venti and Zhongli — that your world once studied alchemy. Turns out your alchemy is a sham and couldn't turn stuff to gold, but it did make way for the study of chemistry. "I hope you are enjoying yourself."

"Don't worry, I am. Especially since I'm with you."

Venti gave you a soft look."Aww. I'm honored, truly."

You laughed and gave him a push, your cheeks feeling a little warm from the attention. He snorted and retaliated by send a gentle breeze your way to mess your hair.

A companionable silence briefly falls over the two of you like a cozy blanket as you sit down on a bench with the perfect view of the event. A tiny explosion from some failed alchemical experiment echoed somewhere and you thought you heard the Traveler's surprised yelp and Paimon screeching from the same direction. You both ignored it.

"You seem busy these days, Overseer," The Anemo Archon finally broke the silence. "What have you been up to?"

"The usual. Making sure the Irminsul is healthy through checking with Nahida, keeping the Abyss Order in check, rebuilding Khaenri'ah- ah, since we're talking about the place, I should also mention that they're working on some advanced technology. Something about travelling through another dimension."

Venti nodded, but his face looks a little troubled. "Are you sure that's a great idea? With Celestia gone, there's nothing that can stop Khaenri'ah from fulfilling their dreams. However…"

There's just way too many risks. You can hear his unspoken words in your head. As far as you are aware, they're "digging" through time and space to get to the world where you came from. While interdimensional trade can certainly be advantageous for this world in both technological advancement and knowledge, you're afraid of the repercussions of messing around with wormholes and potential war that can erupt due to disputes borne of different culture and lust for more territory.

Humans are greedy creatures, after all.

But before you could answer, Diona is already running towards where you were both seated. She pants and places both hands on her knees. The girl huffs one last time and looks at the green-clad bard, irritated. "Where in Teyvat have you been?! Your potion is complete so come get it already!"

"Okay," he replied, standing up. "I hate to cut this conversation short, dear friend, but I must leave. I hope you enjoy the rest of the event."

You nodded with a tired smile, watching Venti follow Diona, who's doing her best to keep walking ahead of the bard in spite of her shorter legs. You feel a little uneasy about the future, your heart being seized with fear for this world you swore to protect.

For now, however, you want to enjoy this peaceful day. Perhaps you'll go greet the Traveller.

Word count: 1,000

Character count: 5,692