#elliwrites

[ellitx]

Entrapment | Alastor x Reader

Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic

When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.

But you can’t and he won’t let you.

Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.

You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.

No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.

But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.

Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.

The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!

He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.

Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.

He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.

But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.

Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.

It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.

He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.

He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.

The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.

Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.

You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.

A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.

There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.

Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?

You had a bad feeling about it.

As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.

Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.

Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.

"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.

It didn't stop there.

Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.

Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.

It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.

“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”

The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.

And it was all because of his sick game.

You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.

But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.

You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.

The nightmare was finally over.

The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.

This was the best thing you could ever ask for.

Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.

But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.

And now, it was you who were caught in his web.

"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”

The demon before you was mysterious.

Unfamiliar.

But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.

The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.

You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.

A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.

A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.

Alastor. The Radio Demon.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.

But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.

Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

You were cornered, trapped.

Alastor had you where he wanted.

You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.

"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."

"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.

"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."

His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.

You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.

"Don't," you whimpered.

"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."

Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

The smile on his face grew wider.

"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.

You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"

Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.

"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.

Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.

"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.

You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.

"I... I…."

He stepped closer, and you stepped back.

Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.

The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.

"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down. 

Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.

You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.

Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.

"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."

You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.

The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.

"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.

"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away. 

The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.

In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.

Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."

[onthewaytotimbuktu]

It’s one of those days were I’m trying so hard to tell myself ‘you are not behind in life’ just because a friend had a baby and in my friends group from HS 2 are married and 1 has a successful Job

And here am I, not working at the moment and just living day to day, not being productive at all. And I’m failing to get out of this slump and all I do is eat, read and sleep

I am thankful for this time, i know it won’t be like this forever. Soon enough it will be back to working long hours in the hospital, but today I’m feeling anxious

[soulfullives]

the ones who know me from back when i was jamiesimps elliwrites or siriiius are the real ones

[elliandhercats]

My thoughts on Child Labor in the Philippines

I think it's part of our culture to compare ourselves to those people, especially kids already working as young as 7 years old. From telenovelas to the stories of our grandparents or even our own parents. 

It is safe to say that at least once in our life we heard comparisons from adults like, 

"Tingnan mo 'yang bata, buti pa siya nagtatrabaho para sa pamilya."

We always consider it as 'inspiration porn', when in fact, it is proof that we have a broken system. Hence, we usually attack those people who are trying to change the system and call them ungrateful. Not knowing that they are changing the system for the majority (yes, including those kids who badly need help) not just for themselves. They are calling out those people who are supposed to be in charge of fixing the system but hey, we are, attacking them because they are 'ungrateful'. That they should work to fend for themselves. Sure, they can but what about the voiceless? What about those people, especially kids who are not aware of their rights? 

Who will speak for them? 

Who will fight for them?

Although it is good for some people who've experienced labor at an early age are now successful, you still don't have to be continuously blinded by the success stories because CHILD LABOR IS NOT RIGHT. 

So, what can we do about it? 

- Firstly, don't use child labor as inspiration porn for the other kids to guilt-trip them to do household chores or to study harder. Instead, educate them about the child's rights or at least motivate them to study well to fix the system in the future. 

- Be compassionate and sensitive.

- Educate yourself by reading legit articles or even our constitution.

- Sex Education is needed too since most of the family who is practicing child labor doesn't have enough knowledge with family planning and such. Ask your barangays to conduct seminars and programs regarding sex education/ family planning.

- Call out and held the people who are supposed to be fixing the system but not doing anything at all, accountable.

- If you can, you may educate other people with the knowledge you've acquired regarding the topic. 

- Organize drives or at least volunteer.

 - Donate to NGOs with visions helping children.

- or simply by sharing fact-checked articles or posts to at least make your circle be aware of what is happening around you.

How can our children be the future if we're depriving them of freedom and their own rights?

[littlequeers]

zepeto rp news!

so we have dorcas (@elliwrites), sirius (@enbysiriusblack), remus

(@fire-balls-wiftie), IiIy (@royalty-of-fandoms), mary (@cameronnx) and james (me) ^^

we need a peter, a gay marlene and others (like regulus, the others in the gang, snape, and parents are welcomed as well!

if you make yourself an account, you can message any of us (preferably elli or scar) (on tumblr)

also tell us your user so we can find you!

for anything, our users are remoony, scar, casmeadowes, MacDuck, pr0ngs and i can't remember lily's :')

[ellitx]

Pussy Drunk | Venti x Reader

masterlist

art belongs to: 1o8k_

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fem!reader, nsfw content ahead

A warm sensation, trickling wet and warm breath, was what woke you up. You could hardly see in this dark room, with only the faint light from your window being the source, but you could see a dark tousled hair and hear faint hums.

You tried to focus your sight in this dark but once again found that there was something between your legs. That, and your moans had increased since your brain had finally awoken from its deep slumber.

Then your eyes opened fully. You immediately shut them, feeling embarrassed by what you were seeing.

Were you dreaming? Perhaps, but it felt too real to be a dream. A tongue was pushed inside your pussy and you moaned deeply. The other hand found its way to your breast and began kneading it slowly.

You recognized those hands, the way he’d reach up to your chest and fondle them yet you forced yourself to shut your eyes tightly. Venti continued eating you out, moving his face closer to yours until you felt him biting your clit. He must have taken off your panties because now you felt the cool air coming from outside.

And then he lifted his head and looked into your eyes as he smiled wickedly. “The princess finally woke up,” he said with a hint of teasing tone in it.

It was difficult to look at him in the eyes when there were your juices staining his lips and dripping on his chin. He licked his lips, savoring your taste before diving back to his haven.

“Don’t mind me. I was just getting my daily dose of you,” he whispered against your weeping sex. “Did you know you taste so good?” His blunt question made you red, warm, and hot at the same time, you deliberately convulsed.

You didn’t reply but a whimper. Venti smirked and trailed his fingers down your belly to your dripping lips.

He gave it a quick lick before shoving two fingers inside your cunt. You tried to hold back, you wanted him to do it properly but he already seemed too lost in his own pleasure.

“Hmm,” he moaned. “Could do this all day to you, princess.” He thrust his fingers in and out while he lapped your insides. You held onto his head, squirming and shivering and he opened your legs wider to get more access which allowed him to run his tongue upward across your slit—filling his mouth once again with your intoxicating taste.

Reaching your clit, he swirled his tongue around it several times before giving it the light-sucking motion he knew would drive you absolutely crazy.

Not slowing down, he pulled his head back slightly and began to truly eat you out, his tongue flicking over your folds in rapid succession. At the same time, his two fingers deep inside you curled to stimulate your G-spot while his tongue attacked your clit. Venti was determined to make you cum like crazy, to drive you completely insane in a fog of pure pleasure.

Your moans turned loud and louder, your breaths short and ragged. Your climax was almost here, your body trembling.

“Venti…I’m gonna cum!” you gasped as the orgasm hit you. You arched your back, forcing your body forward as your legs gripped Venti’s head.

Venti ravaged you like a madman, leaving no drops behind as he drank all of them. The noisy slurps, the moans vibrating against you, his fingers digging into your skin— it was all too much. You gripped the bedsheets and buried your face in the pillow.

To be woken up like this startled you but that orgasm felt too good. You were so warm and hot, that not even the night breeze was enough to cool your burning post-orgasm body.

But you’re too sheepish to admit it to him, more so to beg and ask him to ravish you more until you won’t feel your legs anymore. 

He cleaned up your juices with his tongue before covering your lips in kisses. “You’re so delicious, angel,” he murmured between your thighs as he licked his way up. His hands roamed over your curves, tracing each contour, enjoying the sensation of your soft skin against his fingers. 

“Look at me,” though a mess, you hear him faintly. “Look at me, [Name].” He repeated and so you obliged reluctantly, meekly gazing at him below you. You saw his face as his breathing calmed, calm despite the fact he spent minutes on you— probably even hours— and was probably exhausted from lack of sleep.

His gaze went back to your eyes and he let go of your thighs, letting his arms drop to his sides. He crawled over you and lifted your shirt until it rested above your chest.

You shivered from the cool air hitting you, your breasts now in their glorious bareness to him. Venti stroked them gently and moved lower until he reached your core. With one long finger, he dipped into you and you cried out.

“There, there…that feels so good. Let’s see if we can make it feel even better,” he teased you. He slid his finger inside, rubbing around your walls and feeling your inner muscles spasm. Your breathing became heavier and harder as your arousal built up.

He continued, moving his finger deeper each time. He bit your shoulder hard enough to leave marks but he didn’t stop, he simply intensified it. “Gods, you are so fucking cute,” he muttered as he nipped your earlobe.

You moaned, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while you wrapped yourself around him. He softly kissed your jaw, littering it with small kisses and bites, then he traveled downwards to your chest, treating them the same as before but with an added groping and squeezing from his free hand.

With one finger, he circled your nipple and took it between his lips. They puckered instantly at his rough kiss, another moan escaped your lips.

Licking and sucking every inch of them, he teased your nipples constantly switching one to another. He sucked them firmly, tugging lightly while his fingers worked in and out of your slick pussy. The pleasure was building and building, the knot in your tummy beginning to tighten the further he stimulated you.

Venti’s voice was husky, full of lust. “You don’t know the things you do to me,” he groaned when he felt your insides flexing in his fingers. “Sleeping beauty will never sleep again.”

You tightened your grip around his hips, moaning as he circled your sensitive bud. “You love this, right? Love what I’m doing to your body?” he asked, watching you intently as he switched to your other breast.

A soft cry escaped your lips. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was pant and gulp for air as your body racked with tremors. You screamed when he moved his fingers faster and harder in your gummy walls, opening and motioning them in every possible way he could think to reach your depths.

You held onto his shoulders for dear life, tears streaming from your eyes as you cried his name. “Ven—Venti— oh! Hah… Hmm, good. S’good...”

You babbled every praise your poor head could think of amidst these lust-filled thoughts. You crave more of him, more of his mouth and his hands; you want his dick inside of you, pumping away to your clit until you have a mind-blowing orgasm that leaves you limp and helpless on the bed.

Venti kept going, his fingers thrusting into you again and again as his tongue continued to lap, swirl, and lick. The words coming from your lips died off, turning instead to a constant, vibrating moan as your body shook from orgasm after orgasm.

Sweat dripped down on Venti’s forehead. His whole body ached and his limbs were numb. But he didn’t stop moving. He went faster, harder, until you were in a toe-curling state of pleasure from merely his mouth and fingers.

Until you coat his fingers with your cum.

Until he eats and drinks and gulps down all of your womanly essence.

Until his dick throbbed in his shorts from arousal, hardening and dripping with pre-cum.

Until he could fill you with his seeds till the end of the day.

Oh, to turn you in this kind of state is an achievement only he could succeed. In the end, he couldn't help but revel in the satisfaction of his sweet angel begging for the great reverie of her beloved archon.

[ellitx]

Chapter 19: The Lord's Will

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 3.9k

           The storm was strong, harsh, and maddening. The tempestuous wind annihilated the entire city— from a strong wind to a ferocious cloudburst. It was similar to how the blue dragon attacked the city and everyone presumed that was the cause, but their assumptions drowned upon discovering it was not the Stormterror causing harm to all but Barbatos the Anemo Archon.

           Aether wondered if Jean was aware that it was Venti who was causing all of this. And if she did, did he see him as Venti the Bard or Barbatos the Anemo Archon during his rampage?

           Everyone cowered in fear witnessing the strong aura of an enraged unknown being. From the center of the plaza stood a young man clad in green carrying a damsel in his arms.

           A pair of large angelic wings sprouted from his back, fluttering as feathers fell off and lifted him off the ground. Had he been the angel destined to calm the tempest storm of Mondstadt, everyone would have cheered. But that was far from Celestial.

           His figure loomed. The moon’s radiant glow cast his youthful features yet all was daubed with nothing but fury. No one can approach or stop him. Not even the Knights of Favonius.

           Not even Aether.

           If one dares to approach him, they’d be thrown away like a measly rag doll. Aether could clearly see how his once bright eyes had turned dark and sinister. All that anger was pointed at him, warning him: “If you take a single step and take her from me, I will slaughter you.”

           The crowds cowered, parents holding their children close and shielding them from the sharp gales, while others bowed, kneeling even, to honor and welcome the overwhelming presence of the Anemo Archon.

           Aether, with his restricted strength and movement, turned and saw Jean from the distance. Her face was pale, her hands shaking and clutching tightly on her sword grip. He had never seen her so scared before. No, scared was not the right word.

           She had mixed feelings of confusion, fear, and uneasiness.

           But even as the Acting Grand Master, she’s ready to charge if the archon were to burst into another outrage.

           But how ironic was it that she'd attack the nation’s god who protected them for thousands of years?

           Everyone was scared, some were shocked. Not a single soul has the courage to speak.

             “O winds that sweep o'er Mondstadt's land, hear my words, my fervent command. In the realm where skies and earth collide, a love blooms fierce, none can deride.” The archon’s voice was soft yet thundering, his words echoed and reached the city’s ears.

           “This woman in my embrace, through day and night, she's my true lover, my cherished wife. A bond unbreakable, forged for life. So heed this warning: all who dare to cross the threshold of our lair, for should you trespass, face my might. Anemo's wrath shall take its flight.

           No mercy shown. No quarter given. By my hand, your fate be driven. For love is fierce, and love is strong. And for her, I shall right all wrongs. Let these words echo through the skies, a proclamation, a love that ties. Respect our realm, and you'll be free. But disturb our love, face destiny."

           With these proclamations, Venti's voice rang clear.

           A declaration of love and fear. His power as an archon was blinded with love and obsession.

           A warning to all who dared to defy.

           Pray and obey. That’s the only rule if they wish to be alive.

           And with those words, he vanished into the dark night sky, with only a few feathers left behind. The rain continued, pittering and pattering on the muddy floor. All sounds were muffled except Paimon’s cries which were crystal clear. Afraid and petrified by what happened, he mustered the strength to hush her cries. The only protection and safety he can offer from the god’s wrath.

  —

             “Is there a doctor here? Someone please help my brother!”

           “There were so many casualties… Is this still a safe place for us to live?”

           "I heard the Anemo Archon's wrath spared no one. The Knights of Favonius are overwhelmed, and there's chaos everywhere."

           “Even the Church can’t help us…”

           "I never thought I'd see the day when the Archon's protection turned into a storm of destruction.”

           In the hallowed halls of the Knights of Favonius' headquarters, poignant cries of pain and resilience played out. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and hushed murmurs, as the knights moved with purpose, tending to the myriad wounds inflicted by the recent upheaval. In makeshift infirmaries, the wounded lay on cots, their faces etched with the agony of recent events.

           Amidst the sea of suffering, the children and families sought refuge within the sturdy walls of the headquarters, clinging to one another for solace.

           The knights worked tirelessly to mend both the physical and emotional wounds inflicted by the recent chaos.

           “How are you doing, Aether?” Jean asked while washing the dressings that needed to be disinfected.

           “I’m doing well, but it still hurts like a brick…” he offered a wry smile to her while his fingers caressed his bandaged neck.

           “Please don’t push yourself. Rest as much as you can in here, however, the city is not in the best of state and our supplies may not be enough for everyone…” Jean heaved a sigh, putting aside the disinfected dressings.  “It seems our headquarters won’t be able to accommodate any more patients. The Knights of Favonius and I are trying our best to find a secured shelter.”

           “That bad, huh?” Aether frowned and leaned in, his torso bending forward, while his arms relaxed on his knees.

           Jean nodded slowly, staring out at the grim surroundings.

           "If we're lucky, perhaps when everything calms down, we'll rebuild the city..." she closed her eyes tightly, willing her thoughts away from despair.

           “I’ve already sent the emergency message to Grand Master Varka,” a familiar voice popped into the room. They both turned to see Kaeya emerging from the door holding two cloth bags. “He has decided to send three teams to bring more rations and resources on their way back. He will also come with them on their journey back to Mondstadt.”

           “Thank you, Kaeya.” The Acting Grand Master nodded appreciatively, taking the bag that had been placed on the bed next to Aether’s. He sat down, handing a portion of rations to the boy.

           As dawn painted the sky in hues of hope, the headquarters stood as nothing but a shelter. Mondstadt was in a complete disaster. Multiple houses were destroyed, the plaza was a mess, and even the villagers living outside the city were affected tremendously.

           The blonde traveler’s eyes flashed to the small figure lying on the bed. Recalling the previous night seriously made his head ache. Aether opted to take a good night’s rest.

  —

             A week has passed and the day is still the same. Rubbles and debris are still within everyone’s sight and it’s far from finished cleaning all the mess. All of the Knights were doing labor— not only that, but they also temporarily banned travelers from stepping within Mondstadt’s borders until further notice.

           It’s too dangerous for non-citizens to visit when the catastrophe is still imminent. As much as Aether wants to help, Paimon and Barbara would scold him for his recklessness, urging him to prioritize his own safety over assisting others in such perilous circumstances.

           He grouchily grumbled to himself, letting his mind drift somewhere else and possibly hoping an idea would flick the switch for him to do something. Laying on the bed will do no good, and he’s getting tired of nestling on the bed all day.

           Although he could always fall asleep if he just stayed put and waited for his eyelids to droop. But he knew deep down inside, that waiting for this catastrophe to be over wasn’t the best way to go about things either.

           Letting his mind meander in his headspace, he recalled Jean informing him of an update from the Grand Master. She was told their estimated time of arrival would be a week from now. They have contacted merchants from neighboring nations who will bring more rations to them so the knights can use them to sustain themselves while they wait. Some gave anonymous donations, gifting medicines, herbs, and bandages to aid in recovery efforts.

           Since a week had already passed, he was certain more rations should arrive by tomorrow or maybe even today. At least there won’t be any hunger pangs for these people anymore. To witness the Grand Master still aiding the nation despite his lack of presence caught Aether’s interest. If he’s able to live up to those standards, then there’s no doubt he’ll do great things once he comes back. A flash of hope filled his heart, giving him a feeling of motivation. Hopefully, the news about the arrival of the Grand Master will lighten up everyone’s mood.

           As much as he wants to join in helping the knights, he can’t neglect what is important to him as well. He knows Barbara nor Paimon wouldn’t approve of his idea. But if no one sees him, then there wouldn't be a problem.

           It’s almost night time and everyone’s too preoccupied with healing the wounded.

           Aether stirred from his bed, the call of restlessness drawing him. With quiet determination, he quietly left his room, ensuring his steps wouldn’t make a noise. Once he got through the front door, he made his way through the sleeping city streets, guided only by the dim glow of moonlight filtering through the clouds. His destination: the bell tower of the church.

           His silhouette moved against the backdrop of the moonlit sky. With practiced ease, he scaled the rough walls of the church, his fingers finding purchase in the worn stone as he ascended higher and higher.

           The chill of the night air brushed his skin as he continued climbing, each foothold bringing him closer to his destination. At last, he reached the towering bell tower, its shadow stretching out like a dark sentinel against the starry heavens. With a final push, he pulled himself up onto the narrow ledge, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps.

           Leaning against the pillar to take a breather, he wiped the sweat rolling down his forehead and turned around to admire the night sky. Though the past few days were packed with dread and anguish, the luminous light of the crescent moon almost had him forget his purpose for climbing all the way here to the top.

           From his vantage point high above the city streets, he could see the familiar tower in the distance, its ominous presence casting a long shadow over the land. Aether’s golden eyes narrowed, searching for any signs of the god and his “lover” he claimed. The distance between them stretched out so far that his hope for spotting you from where he was was futile, just as he suspected.

           Forcing away the uneasy feeling in his stomach, he turned his attention to the watch tower from the Knights’ headquarters. A silhouette moving caught his attention and Aether decided to return to his room lest he’d be caught by the knights lurking in the bell tower in the middle of the night.

  —

             Two weeks after the catastrophe, there was a small progress within the city. Several are still wounded yet they’re gradually recovering. The Knights utilized the Church for civilians who lost their homes and few kindhearted volunteers assisted the Knights and members of the Church to feed the displaced families.

           Aether’s neck had already recovered, the mark was gone but the sensation of his perpetrator’s fingers still haunted him till this day. Caressing his neck brings bitterness within him he wasn’t able to save you from the god.

           What if Venti, in a fit of rage or madness, had done something irreversible, something that could have harmed you irreparably? The mere thought sent a shiver down Aether's spine, and he vehemently shook his head, trying to dispel the dark imaginings that threatened to overwhelm him.

           "No," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "Venti wouldn't do that. He couldn’t."

           But deep down, beneath the layers of denial and hope, Aether harbored a nagging doubt. Even if Venti wouldn't physically harm you, the emotional toll of his actions could be just as devastating. And that was a truth Aether couldn't bear to face.

           With a sigh, he stood up from his bed and began pacing around the room. He spotted some villagers going in and out of the city gate behind the thickly curtained windows. What struck his attention were the carriages loaded with debris, and people carrying some vegetables and fruits. Perhaps to make soup for those who are still recovering.

           Somehow it stirred his heart a little to see the citizens still helping each other even after being scarred by disaster. Maybe they know it will bring more danger to move away from their homes right now, but they’re hoping for a miracle where everything will return to normal.

           The majority of the food supplies were already eaten during the crisis and a lot of residents are starving. Yet there are still people who have gone through so much more difficult hardships than what he has to go through.

           Staying inside will do no good. Aether strode to the door and opened it with determination, but the purpose of venturing crumbled to dust when a deaconess’s familiar blue optics glared at him.

           “Where do you think you’re going?”

           Aether swallowed the lump sitting in his throat, a cold sweat threatening to unveil, as he evaded her skeptical glare. “Just going outside to take a breather,” he answered immediately.

           Barbara’s frown wouldn’t expunge and he stood firmly in his place. When she took one big step, he panicked and backed off a little. If she continues walking forward, then there’s no turning back.

           Thankfully, she stopped before him. She looked annoyed and then glanced at Paimon standing beside the door, munching on a piece of bread. Was she with Barbara all this time?

           “He’s been stuck inside for a week. As long as he doesn’t do anything reckless, Paimon’s sure it’ll be fine.”

           Barbara heaved a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose at Paimon’s nonchalant and indifferent behavior. Deciding to give in, she allowed Aether only on the condition he’d be back before it set.

           She sure has gone stern with him but the kindness within her still remains pure. It didn’t take long for Aether to prepare. He only needed his sword and his flying companion. Barbara told him to bring some medicines in case he got wounded, but she hoped he’d return unscathed.

           As Aether stood at the city gate, Paimon floated next to him, her eyes scanning the lush greenery beyond. The landscape seemed unchanged, yet subtle alterations were evident – barricades now dotted certain sections of the road, blocking any passage beyond the city limits.

           The crops at Springvale Village lay sparse and withered, stark evidence of the devastation wrought by recent events. Despite the desolation, however, the villagers toiled tirelessly, their hands calloused and backs bent as they labored to revive the once-lush fields and replenish dwindling supplies. With each passing day, small signs of progress emerged amid the barren earth, a small glimpse of hope amidst the ruins.

           Aether’s feet controlled his body, aimlessly wandering the prairie of the nation of the wind. Paimon was silent, quite unusual of her, but he didn’t ask her. She was lost in thought and so was he, but his mind drifted to the abducted maiden.

           Paimon followed him along, sometimes leaving a few comments here and there not to go to the forest lest they’d be attacked by hilichurls.

           He hadn’t realized they stopped at Stormterror’s lair. Before him was the ever-so-familiar wind barrier. It still kept him from entering further, a warning that the Anemo Archon and his dragon inhabited the empty land.

           His body took over before his mind could stop him. He rushed and slammed his hand against the barrier, screaming at an empty space. “Venti, please! You don’t have to do all of these!! I know you’re a good person but if you lock [Name] there, it’s no longer freedom!”

             No response. That couldn’t mean anything good. He pounded his fist again, the barrier rippling from the pressure, yet he felt nothing in return. Oddly, he heard something behind the barrier… But what?

           Over and over, the traveler kept on banging, crying out for Venti to release you. Paimon watched in silence, her eyes darting to him and the tower as she feared what would happen next. The pain and the stress his actions brought into the fairy's mind might make her stop him at this instant, another unintended consequence that could lead them down a different path.

           She closed her eyes, blocking out the reverberation of Aether's yells. He needed to be calm, she knew. All of this chaos and emotion were only building up more anger in Venti and she wouldn't want that.

           They were starting to disturb the wind spirits who lived nearby. Eventually, the cry ceased after a long while and the emptiness returned. His palm burned red where it touched the barrier; only moments later did he realize how close he came to harming someone.

           If only he wasn't damaged greatly, he'd still have time to save you. No, even if he was wounded, he should have been able to bring you back. How had things turned out like this? He wasn't prepared for anything of this sort. This... is not what you deserve.

           "Aether… we should just go. Venti won’t even spare us a glance." Paimon pleaded.

           "We can’t just leave [Name] there! What if something happens to her?" He shouted in return, glancing back at the pillar. It almost seemed as though she was holding her breath now, but she finally exhaled, turning to face him once more. "Stepping in again will make it even worse! Paimon will be devastated if Paimon loses you!" Her voice cracked, quivering and wavering betraying the fear and concern she struggled to contain.

           She sniffled, averting her gaze as she wiped the tears off her cheeks with her arm. They know Venti has his own reasons for keeping you in there with him, but is that really the right way to treat you? More so, he abandoned his people after the mess he made.

           Nothing will change if he stays in the tower and keeps you locked there with him.

           Aether's hands slipped, knocking his forehead on the barrier’s surface. It was too much for him, trying to figure out what to do when he should be doing his best to stay alive himself.

           There's nothing Venti will gain from it if they did so; perhaps nothing except for their— or worse, your— demise.

           “Pardon me, but are you here to offer your prayers to the Anemo Archon as well?” A voice joined in, halting his silent mourns.

           An old man who appeared out of nowhere drew near, seemingly unconcerned about their whereabouts. But they did not expect to see behind that man a flock of people holding bouquets of flowers, wines, and baskets of bread. Despite how dangerous the area is, they radiated in contrast to the gloomy atmosphere surrounding them.

           "What the...?" Paimon muttered as one of the old men set down his offerings near the barriers. He made eye contact with Paimon and she offered him a wry smile, watching everyone follow along the man's gesture to place down their gifts on the other side of the wall on what seemed to be like a shrine. Was that there all along?

           A robed priest walked towards the shrine, chanting and making prayer gestures. It was clearly evident from their actions that these were believers, using the lair as a sacred place of worship that those who visited hoped to receive some form of blessing.

           Aether had multiple questions he wanted to ask the old man, but for now, he kept quiet while everyone prayed and whispered their wishes.

           It was strange watching the group of believers praying in front of the gates, with little awareness that the person Paimon and Aether were talking about was on the other side, practically begging for the god these believers were praying for to free the girl he took.

           It seemed as though the old man sensed their watchful and peering gaze. "Please do not anger the Anemo Archon... for he may be merciful to some but harsh to others..." he said.

           "Harsh to others?" Paimon spoke aloud. The man stared back at her for a moment before answering, "Lord Barbatos is a benevolent archon, but witnessing his wrath during the Ludi Harpastum left many an unfortunate soul destroyed and exiled forever from his land."

           It sounded familiar, a promise, that would let people make offerings in exchange for good luck. The air was tense between them and Aether was at a loss for words.

           “We only wish for peace and harmony. People deserve to live their lives freely with no worries of imminent danger or threat.” The elder answered, tightly holding the cross hanging on his neck to seek guidance. “But if we worship and follow the Lord’s will, he might become merciful. It’s the only way for everyone to be saved.”

           “Will?” Paimon echoed.

           “Lord Barbatos added a will that will significantly change the scripture and history of Mondstadt,” the robed priest added. He stood up and brushed away the wrinkles of his clothes and took out a thick book from his robe. “We found this book on the altar while sheltering everyone. The Church has yet to read the full scripture but we can discern it’s about his spouse.”

           “The night after the festival was already a warning to us,” the old man’s voice trembled. “We dare not to anger him. So please, Honorary Knight, do not accumulate Lord Barbatos’s wrath.”

           Numerous times he encountered you, it always didn’t end well and the archon is always there to step in.

           He frowned and bit his lips. His fingers dug through his skin. It made him uncomfortable that the church never dared to question the sudden addition of sacred scripture and the will of the Anemo Archon.

           Perhaps because he is the archon, they obeyed his orders.

           Sighing heavily, he turned back to the barrier and placed his hand upon it.

           Under his breath, he whispered his prayers for your safety. The wind may have brought it to Venti, but the wind may have not. And regardless if it angered the archon, he’d still find a way to get you out of there.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute

sorry for the very long wait for an update >.> this chapter and the next one have been sitting on my drafts for months and I didn't have the time to edit and fix it. but I finally have done it!

the next chapter was supposed to be the chapter 19, however after I reread the story, there was a big plot hole and it'd be very confusing how it got there so I had to add this chapter to fix the plot hole lol

also!! i did major edits on the previous chapters regarding Decarabian. i changed his title from “previous Anemo Archon” to “God of Storms” since he wasn't technically an anemo archon back then

[ellitx]

Helloooow!

Your blog is like nectar to a starving hummingbird in the deseeeeert there is not enough Venti content on the fanfiction side of this fandom istg so THANK YOU for taking care of us Venti fans!

I read through quite a lot of your works (and Venti centered works in general) and I noticed a trend in all of the darlings either being reserved and shy / standoffish or being gentle and incredibly soft-spoken / naive.

No doubt about Venti actually falling for someone like that since opposites attract, but I was wondering if you could imagine him with a more confident and extroverted darling as well?

A type of darling that has a "so what if people will look on? Maybe they want to secretly join in on being silly, too!"- attitude and is non-flirtatiously playful / witty? And perhaps isn't as easily foiled or can see through people's intentions a little more clearly since she has experience with dealing with different personalities.

Someone who would pull all the other shy people into the dancing circle and is pretty good masking embarrassment / faking it until she makes it!

Would it aggravate Venti even more to get her flustered? Or is that a type of darling he wouldn't even bat an eye towards? What do you think?

Extroverted darling is the type who venti will enjoy having a drink with at the tavern

They’d get along pretty quick if darling is able to give the same energy as venti’s, though when it comes to romance, it would take some time for him to fall for them. If in a scenario, darling was the one who fell first, he’ll immediately notice but won’t say a word. He doesn’t want to presume but he does give flirtatious remarks

But if we’re speaking that he’s a yandere, he would enjoy another bright presence. He’d let you run wild and surprisingly he’s not very restrictive. He still wanted you to enjoy life and be yourself. The thing that makes it frightening for yan venti with an extroverted darling is, well, manipulating your feelings.

And if darling fell for him, he’d definitely take advantage of it. He didn’t missed you were throwing hints at him, but he’s feigning ignorance. He wants to hear you say it to him directly. Even if you joked that you love him or you want spend your life together with him, he’ll take that as a confession seriously and claiming you’re “officially” together.

What’s worse is that if you like drinking and you have low alcohol tolerance, he’ll take advantage of it as well. He puts on the bestest-best friend facade with you. Obviously he doesn’t do anything to you when you were getting to know him. Nothing of that sort you’d imagine.

If you get drunk, he’d carry you home and joked about not reaching his level. When you passed out the first time you were with him, you were on your guard. You woke up with the evening sky greeting you and jolting up immediately, you almost knocked Venti out.

He stayed with you throughout the night, accompanying you back to your home as you thanked him for watching over you. It became a norm for you both that either would pass out and the other would care for them. That’s why you prefer drinking with him. You’re guaranteed he’ll handle you if you want to get yourself drunk and have fun dancing at the tavern when he plays his music.

Everything he does are so normal you don’t even see anything malicious.

He’d bring you to the tavern for a drink, chatting on your way there. But upon entering, all seats were occupied. There must be a celebration and a lot of the knights were inside. You all searched from top to bottom for any vacant seats, but none can be found. You can’t go to cat’s tail because of his allergies, and you aren’t letting Venti steal a bottle. Otherwise, you’d be counted as his accomplice.

When one client finally left, he took the seat and you’re just there… standing. He arched his brow and asked you to sit. You’re baffled by his question until he patted his lap with an almost casual confidence, clearly unfazed by the bustling crowd around you.

You hesitated, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. His suggestion was bold, to say the least, and though you were no stranger to his antics, this felt different. You quickly denied but he just sighed and propped his chin on his palm.

Why would you be so embarrassed? You’ve been friends for a long time and frequently flirting back and forth so how was this any different? Everyone in the town already knows how close you are with him. Even Diluc knows your frequent shenanigans with this bard.

His fingers drummed lightly on the wooden table, tapping in rhythm with the music playing nearby, waiting for you to move. The packed room left little space to move, making it clear that finding another seat was out of the question. Eventually, with a resigned sigh, you took a step closer, noticing the faintest glimmer of satisfaction across his face. He shifted, making room for you as his arms rested lightly at his sides, inviting yet unassuming.

You sat on his lap, trying to keep your composure as he adjusted to ensure you were comfortable. When he called the bartender and ordered your usual drinks, you looked away to hide your red face. Usually, you’d brush it off and come up with an excuse, but your mind was running in miles you couldn’t think clearly. You could feel his breath close to your shoulder, relaxing with you there, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

The music grew louder, voices around you rising in cheer, but you found yourself catching his hand drifting over your thighs. At first you ignored it, thinking his hand was just there to rest. But when you felt his palm rubbing up and down your skin, your cheeks warmed up with your mouth agape.

You wanted to scold him, question what was he doing. As you turned to him and opened your mouth, Charles arrived with your drinks, placing the mugs on the table. Venti thanked him, leaving you a bit awkward when he grabbed his drink. You though he finally stopped, and you weren’t going to bother bringing it up to him— assuming it was just his gesture of concern for his best friend— but his hand returned between your thighs.

His fingertips brushed up against your inner thigh, gliding slowly up. You pushed his wrist, the slightest signal to stop and to avoid unnecessary commotion, but he just drank as his fingers ran close between your legs. You tugged his hand but instead he slipped his finger in yours, twining them in place. His eyes were focused straight ahead, expression completely neutral, and unfazed.

Your were so confused, trying to grasp what had gotten to him. Venti was forward, but not this forward. Maybe it’s a sort of gesture to calm you. You were pretty flustered back there when he offered his lap, and you already knew how touchy he was. But this didn’t seem like…

You grabbed your tankard and took a heavy gulp, pushing down any conflicting emotions. Sure, you like him and even joked having feelings for him, but that’s because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

He loves wine and jokes. He sings for every event and playfully flirts. And you? You love him. That sounds stupid but it's the truth. If only you could muster courage and confess to him. If only you could get on his good side to the extent where you two would have romantic kind of moment without the need for alcohol.

You asked Charles for another glass and you didn’t notice his hands crept under your shirt. You were too drunk to differentiate the sensations swarming over your skin. His fingers stroked along the sensitive curve of your stomach, the other arm firm around you as you glanced at him, he didn't seem bothered. His lips moved as if he was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything when the music was too loud and the knights were clamouring. You simply hummed, nodding along to whatever he was saying.

He offered you another glass and you accepted. The drink was stronger this time, or maybe you were finally feeling the weight of each glass catching up to you. The room swayed slightly as you raised the glass, taking another heavy gulp, the world beginning to blur.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the emotions you’d been trying so hard to drown that made the warmth creep into your cheeks, a sensation almost too intense to ignore. Somewhere deep down, you knew you were pushing past your limit, but here, with Venti’s laughter echoing somewhere beside you, it didn’t feel so bad.

He watched you carefully, concern crossing his usually carefree face as you reached for the next drink. His smile lingered, as he subtly moved closer, reaching out a steadying hand as you swayed again. The tavern lights glimmering above in dizzying patterns. You tried to flash him a reassuring smile, but a small giggle left your lips as you felt something ticklish on your stomach.

You were vaguely aware of his fingers brushing against you, grounding you just enough to stop the world from spinning. The voices in the tavern grew more distant, their laughter fading off. Somewhere along the way, you lost count of how many times you’d tried to quiet your thoughts. You leaned your head against his shoulder, watching his lips move, his voice softer, almost soothing, though you couldn’t make out the words. His breath brushed against your ear and you nodded absentmindedly.

The last thing you felt was Venti’s arms wrapping around you, his voice a quiet murmur lost to the noise as he carried you out of the tavern.

[ellitx]

Pls share those yandere Alastor concepts with us sometime! No rush and no specific request at this point, but I would love to see more of what’s on your mind, I really enjoyed the first one! :)

Yandere Alastor concepts

well this isn’t really a spoiler per se but i suppose i’ll give everyone a preview of Alastor and darling’s relationship since it’s going to be mentioned a lot (albeit in little details) in the upcoming stories

first part | second part | third part

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fem!reader

Before arriving at hell:

Alastor and darling are colleagues in the radio station they worked at.

She works as the scriptwriter and is in charge of creating the scripts for him (mostly for the weekly Saturday gossip)

Eventually, the longer you worked together, the less Alastor needed a script since he’s good at ad libbing

But he finds an excuse he needs one so you can visit his office and give it to him. For example, he needs a proper guideline for his upcoming broadcast

Most of the time he’ll invite you for a coffee inside and you’re worried your boss may find you slacking off the longer you stay, but Alastor reassures you it’s still job related discussion

He’d offer you a cup and you happily accept it

Once he knows you also prefer teas, expect there are several options prepared (mostly coffee cuz he doesn’t like teas)

After work, if it’s getting too late, he’d offer to walk you back home, AND he even gestures to you to hold onto his arm which you really find it sweet

Now Alastor’s a real gentleman. You find that very charming and you brush off his little touches such as his hands lingering a little longer when giving his script or when he stands next to you while the producer tells you the new ideas and his arm is brushing over yours

But Alastor can never forget the time you patted his head and praised him

He was flabbergasted. Shocked even. His smile was stiff like a mask. Then he looked away from your gaze and quickly walked towards the door

You were worried if you did something wrong due to his abrupt departure. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable being treated like that more than you thought

If only you knew what was going on in his mind…

The next day he was back to his usual self, but more chirpy and lively. It somehow unnerved you but you disregarded such thought and waved at him.

As usual with work life, you wrote the new script, your producer stayed back to give suggestions on how to improve the script, and Alastor was supposed to prepare himself for the recording.

Nope.

He stayed and tweaked the script. He would brush against you, giving you small jolts each time, and every time you subtly turned around, his glazed eyes met yours and you quickly returned to your typewriter.

His gaze is more intense. As if a hawk is waiting for their prey to take a step out of line. When you turned your face away, Alastor continued to watch you from behind. Your heart was beating so fast, you wished you could leave the booth and go back to the comfort of your house.

After the success of the latest episode, you weren’t expecting an invitation for a nightcap, especially coming from the infamous radio host. With the recent market crash making stable income a rarity, you found yourself hesitating.

Yet Alastor was persistent and he insisted on footing the bill. The urge to decline was strong, yet as you opened your mouth to refuse, his expression shifted, his eyes darkening slightly while his never-faltering grin remained unchanged.

“How could you refuse him?” Your inner voice scolded.

Before you know it, you find yourself at a speakeasy, a glass of chilled whiskey appears before you. You followed the trail of the arm, a long white sleeve covering the muscles you didn’t know were toned.

Has he always been this well-built?

“Is whiskey not to your liking, dear?” Alastor’s voice cut you off from your nonsensical thoughts.

Your gaze never took off from the glass.

I prefer beverages with a lighter touch than whiskey.

You mentally chastised yourself.

You heard a light chuckle, the wood creaking once he took the seat next to yours. The glass clinked as the small cubes danced along the waves.

“Hm, so my guess was right you prefer light alcohol over heavy ones.” The radio host remarked.

Your eyes widened, hands clamping over to your delicate lips. Did you just say that out loud?

“What’s wrong with wanting light alcohol?” The edge in your voice stung the other. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at your remark in amusement.

“I never said it’s wrong to like light drinks,” Alastor swirled his glass before taking a small sip.

Your glass was still untouched, although curiosity was gnawing away at you.

“Why don’t you take a sip? It won’t hurt,” He offered.

Glancing at the burning amber liquid reminded you of the fate that awaited anyone who would be careless enough to get their drink mixed up. The cold droplets made you shiver slightly as they drifted along the sides of the glass.

You pushed the glass to him, “You can have it. I don’t want to get a headache when I still have to work on a new script tomorrow.”

Alastor gazed at your liquor. The jazz music of the bar was a nice touch after a tiring day, yet his visage that reflected beneath the soft glow of the speakeasy said otherwise.

“You’ll be working with Clyde?” There was a sharp tone in his voice.

When did he start caring about what you do?

Alastor looked past you, his eyes narrowed dangerously. That person whom you had previously mistaken for just another co-worker seemed more sinister, ready to pounce on any of your weaknesses. Was it because you rejected his invitation earlier?

“Yes,” you nodded meekly, shifting against your seat as you avoided making contact with his eyes. “The producer told me they want a new broadcast for our station. Like a theatrical drama rather than the weekly hearsay from our listeners,” you explained.

A loud crashing sound resounded within the small bar and you flinched, instinctively recoiling at the piercing noise and you gasped upon noticing a blood trailing from Alastor’s hand.

His drink which was half-empty was now dripping on the counter mixing with the blood that seeped through his hand.

“Alastor! For goodness sake, I just bought that!” A shrill voice shouted from the other side of the counter. A short woman in a flapper dress clicked her tongue and ordered the barkeeper to clean the mess.

“Pardon me for the unpleasant commotion. I didn’t mean to shatter the glass.” Alastor opened his palm and it felt like someone had suddenly slammed a brick wall right across your face.

The sight was sickeningly frightening.

You rummaged through your purse and took out your handkerchief, carefully removing the small glasses pricking into his skin.

He observed your careful ministrations with keen interest, a slight thrill shooting through him as your fingers grazed his. It was like experiencing a treat, each touch sending a wave of unfamiliar sensations coursing through him. Sweet yet sour.

The corner of his lips tugged, almost reaching his eyes. Your pale face, trembling hands, tightened jaw, stumbling words of assurance as you asked for medical assistance— he watched your face intently to catch every subtlety of your expression. He wants to devour every single bit, drink it, absorb it, consume it, nibble on it…

You cleaned up the last bits of blood oozing from his left palm, and he clasped your hand in his unblemished one, holding it firmly as he lifted your knuckles to his lips.

A broad grin spread across his face, reminiscent of the Cheshire cat's, and you couldn't shake the feeling that behind his dark eyes lurked a hint of mischief. It was a smile that seemed to dance between sweetness and something more sinister, leaving you both intrigued and slightly unnerved.

His lips that brushed against your skin provoked a shiver running down your spine, a cold realization settling in your bones. It lurked a darkness that sent a chill through your soul, leaving you with a sinking feeling.

—

After the small night of drinking, you promised to call Alastor later. You thanked him and hurried back home.

On the way, your thoughts are continuously turning into worry and fears. You asked yourself: why do you feel so uncomfortable around him? What makes you feel like you’re in danger?

Were you overthinking this? Maybe. But you couldn't shake off the uneasiness inside you.

Did he plan to hurt you? No, no way. It would be impossible since he was an impeccable gentleman.

This fear of the unknown and dread that gnawed at you will be the root of your sleepless night.

[ellitx]

Chapter 20: Wind's Soliloquy

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 6.3k

           The rain had been pouring ever since. It never seemed to stop but it was not strong and heavy, fortunately. Yet the frequent raindrops made the land so gloomy as if the Hydro Archon was crying for days.

           A young maiden ran towards a nearby shelter, her shoes stepping on the muddy field and forming a small splash with each stride. Alas, she shielded herself from the cold droplets.

           The flowers in her arms were wet yet they still retained their shape and form. As much as she wanted to complain and scream at the sky for ruining her journey, she feared the Anemo Archon may hear her and punish her for saying such unthinkable things.

           She sighed disappointingly. Her fingers buried against the bouquet and held it tightly close to her. Her trip near the tower’s entrance had a purpose. She wasn’t aimlessly wandering, nor was she just a citizen passing through.

           No, she was here to ask for blessing from her nation’s god and his beloved. Legend has said if you offer an offering near the entrance, your wishes will be heeded. Of course, at first, she had doubts. There was no such thing as miracles. But she took back her word when an unbelievable and impossible incident became possible.

           Shortly after Ludi Harpastum, a festival of joy and celebration, a calamity struck. A massive storm surged. Houses were damaged, and the once vibrant fields lay ravaged. The disaster had devastated her family's home. Thankfully, the Knights of Favonius offered to let the victims stay at their headquarters for the meantime while they restore the city. And one thing she noticed, in particular, was how frequently the villagers are going outside the city to travel to the old broken tower.

           At first, she thought of it as simply gathering materials and the like. And her friends were tagging along with them, so she didn’t pay too much attention to it. But when those expeditions had become nothing with no result, she had grown suspicious.

           Everyone was bringing flowers, wines, and food.

           What were those for? That was the first thing she asked her mother after she returned to her “expedition”. Her mother smiled tiredly, patting her head affectionately before she motioned her to sit next to her.

           It seemed the offerings were meant to seek favor from the Anemo Archon.

           “By offering gifts and prayers to Lord Barbatos and his beloved, the city will be restored.”

           The daughter’s eyebrows scrunched together, her doubts growing further. “But will that really work? We can’t just simply sit still and pray then— poof!” She raised her arms, motioning them slowly like acting out an explosion, “Everything will magically return to normal,” she continued before flopping back to the edge of the bed.

           “Oh, you silly girl!” Her mother pulled her to her chest and playfully messed her hair which earned her a huff, but a lighthearted one which the mother fondly recognizes.

           The giggles and laughter died shortly as the dawn of silence took over the room. The candle was their only source of light and despite the poor lighting, she could easily notice there’s something on her mother’s mind that’s been distracting her.

           “Mom?” She called out. Her mother’s eyes flickered before snapping her gaze to her and forcing a smile.

           “It’s getting late, love. Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”

           It was ridiculous. Laughable even, that her mother just offered to tell her bedtime stories when she’s already in her teens.

           “I think I’ll pass. I’m too old already for bedtime stories,” she replied, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a playful grin. “Who said you’re too ‘old’ for bedtime stories?” The mother feigned shock, her tone higher than before.

           She chuckled, shaking her head at her mother's antics. “Mom, you know what I mean. I’m sixteen!”

           Her mother's expression softened, a flicker of sadness in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed. “You'll always be my little one, no matter how old you are.”

           The daughter’s heart tugged in guilt then sighed in defeat. Whether it’s because her mother was manipulating her feelings or not, she’s unable to resist her pleading gaze. “F-fine, I wouldn’t mind hearing another story as long as it’s you telling me.” The woman smiled widely and supported her weight by resting her face on her palm.

           “Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind.”

           Her fingers brushed over her hair, tucking it behind her daughter’s ear whilst lovingly gazing at her, taking notes of the changes in her features. She knows her mother is being sentimental again over how quickly she grows. She understands those sentiments yet it’s best not to speak of the topic and make it depressing when the blitheness was there a minute ago.

           “To reach that place, one must stand before the fountain and close their eyes, then wait for thirty-five heartbeats, then walk seven circles clockwise around the fountain followed by seven further circles anticlockwise. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop…”

           The daughter closed her eyes and let her ears envelop the tune of her kin’s soft voice. Time had slowed down between them. It was only her and her mother together in this lone room with a single stalk of candle. She didn’t mind. After all, her voice was calming and soothing.

             She didn’t exactly remember when and how it happened. Because by the time she woke up and heard ruckus and clamor outside of the Favonius’s Headquarters, her eyes couldn’t believe what she saw.

           Everything was restored. As if the aftermath of the storm wasn’t there from the beginning… Everyone was cheering, crying, applauding, and gathering at the plaza where the statue of the nation’s god stands. She didn’t bother changing her clothes and doing her morning routine.

           She needs to understand— know— what in the world just happened. Pushing and squeezing her lithe frame against the closely packed multitude, she looked for any familiar faces to answer her horde of questions that began to bubble over her head.

           She called out to her friend and finally freed herself from the applauding audience to stand next to her friend.

           The girl's friend turned with a wide grin, their eyes reflecting the joyous atmosphere. "Can you believe it? It's like a miracle! The city is restored!"

           "But how?" she questioned, her eyes scanning the crowd for anyone who might have answers.

           "Rumors say it was the Anemo Archon himself," they replied, pointing towards the statue of the god. "They say he granted our prayers and restored our home."

           She gazed at the statue, still skeptical of the sudden turn of events. “Wh-what are you talking about?” Her lips stuttered, unable to fathom their collective and unanimous praise.

           The corner of the friend's lips trembled. Their hands were shaking even if it was already on the girl's shoulder. She could feel them shaking— shaking like a scared dog but there was a big grin on their face.

           “The Anemo Archon forgave us of our sins.”

           That was the last thing she heard. The mutual and unified cries of the civilians, priests, and nuns, all together as they clasped their hands to one to honor and pray for their lord.

            But something felt amiss, a whisper of doubt amidst the jubilation. Why would the Anemo Archon intervene now? What sins were they being forgiven for? The questions swirled in her mind, leaving a lingering unease.

           If it was indeed the Anemo Archon's doing, she couldn't help but feel grateful. Yet, she wondered what had truly transpired. The mystery of the sudden restoration only deepened her curiosity.

           But days after days of trying to uncover the truth, all of those doubts are nothing but a disguise for her lack of faith in her god. She was just being an unfaithful devotee of Lord Barbatos. How could she? And she truly felt remorseful and guilty for having doubts of the Anemo Archon’s capabilities.

           He had saved their nation more than once aside from the recent events of the storm, and that was enough for her to be grateful to him. If it truly was a blessing from the Anemo Archon, a miracle of wherein she can believe in it, then please…

           The bouquet in her hold was settled on the concrete flooring. She ignored the raindrops collecting into the fabric of her blouse, focusing on her prayers and her prayers alone. Her fingers clasped together, intertwining into a tight grip as she muted out every noise, every raindrop.

           “Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,” she whispered fervently, her voice barely audible over the patter of the rain.

           Her mother had always been her pillar of strength, her unwavering support. The thought of losing her was too much to bear. So, with her heart heavy with worry, she offered her prayers to the divine, seeking protection and healing for her loved one.

  —

             The tempest of the snowstorm was undoubtedly so cold that even his cloak was not enough for him to provide the warmth he sought. Venti peeked over the window of his room, watching over the tower looming over them so ominously.

           A little jingling was heard next to him and it was enough to recognize who it was even if he was not looking where his little friend was.

           “We are so close to the outside world…” He mumbled to himself, vigilant eyes unfaltering as if he was fighting against the mere stack of bricks. “And tomorrow we’re going to face Decarabian…” He shifted his gaze to the figure sleeping on the other side of the bed.

           The little wisp levitated over to him slowly and tilted its head before letting out another chime of jingle. Venti chuckled and lightly patted the two little sprouts sticking out of its head.

           “I’m not afraid,” He replied. “But I am afraid of losing her…”

           He glanced at the sleeping figure once more, a wave of emotions crashing within him. The weight of the impending battle was heavy on his shoulders, but his love for her, and his determination to protect her, was even heavier. The wind stirred outside, a reminder of his responsibility to liberate the nation, but in this quiet moment, his thoughts were only for her.

           Barbatos’s two dotted white eyes squeezed, reassuring his friend as he twirled over to you and gave another set of ringing. He patiently waited if he had another word to say, but it was enough of an indication when the wisp returned to lodge next to him. Venti easily deciphered what he was saying:

           “I may be a wisp, but I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you.”

           His eyes creased before he cupped his hands and gently lifted Barbatos so they could see each other eye to eye. “Thank you. That means a lot. I started this rebellion myself and I’d be willing to do anything. However…”

           The young bard briefly paused, staring absently at where you lay and Barbatos followed his gaze. It was not unusual for Venti to be deep in his thoughts. With how they have often been together, it’s one characteristic of him that Barbatos took notice of.

           But unlike his deep pondering, within his deep blue eyes he could see swirls of uneasiness. Eyes of worry lost in contemplation, reflected a storm of concern. The furrowed brow framed windows into a troubled mind, where the weight of thoughts etched delicate lines around the eyes. In their depths, shadows danced, revealing a tumultuous sea of unease. The gaze, once bright, now carried a subdued flicker, like embers struggling against the encroaching darkness.

           Barbatos was quiet but he slowly approached his friend and flew over his shoulder. The wisp already knew what was bothering him, but he didn’t break the silence. Rather, he let the silence consume them.

           He already knew this war would be a matter of life and death. Full of bloodshed and ruthless crashing of swords and greatswords all for the sake of freedom. They had lost several allies, what more if Venti loses you?

           What more if you lose him?

           Venti bitterly laughed to himself, catching Barbatos off-guard. He wanted to soothe his friend, but the cold sweat running over to the nape of Venti’s neck and the clenching of his fist over to his shorts was enough to come to a conclusion: Venti was scared.

           How come when he’s this close— they’re so close, he began to cower? He prepared himself in and out. From days to weeks, weeks to months, he led and planned everything with precision. Did he doubt his capabilities? Or was he scared they would never obtain freedom? Perhaps the weight of responsibility pressed harder than he let on.

           The impending battle with Decarabian, a foe of colossal proportions, bore down on him. The prospect of facing an archaic power, an entity that once ruled over Mondstadt, sent shivers down even the god of freedom’s spine.

           Venti cast a sidelong glance at the peacefully slumbering figure beside him. In the quiet of the room, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest served as a stark reminder of what he stood to lose. The very thought of harm befalling you awakened a vulnerability he tried to bury beneath the bravado.

           He sighed, a mix of frustration and self-awareness. The war-torn history and the battles fought in the shadows, all led to this moment. Yet, the proximity of his friend, the one who anchored him, uncovered a layer of trepidation he never fully acknowledged.

           The little wisp fluttered near him, its tiny form a manifestation of loyalty. It chimed softly, a melody of encouragement. Venti managed a rueful smile, realizing that even Barbatos wasn’t immune to the currents of fear and doubt. The approaching conflict, an inevitable clash with the remnants of a bygone era, hung heavy in the air.

           Perhaps it was fate upon meeting two important people,  in Barbatos’s life; and never did he foresee he’d forge a deeper relationship with them.

           Amidst the raging storms, he thought he would never be heard but alas there a boy clad in a dark cloak with a lyre in his hand appeared in front of him.

           “Barbatos,” he called. “If anything happens to me, protect [Name] for me, alright?” Venti stood up from his seat and discreetly walked over to your bed. Barbatos watched from a distance. The bard’s hand gently brushed over your tousled locks as he lovingly smoothed the disarray of strands.

           Venti's eyes held a tenderness, a silent promise etched within the gentle caress. The room was filled with a hushed intimacy, interrupted only by the soft rustle of hair beneath his fingers. He delicately gathered a handful of your hair, the strands flowing through his fingers like silken threads. Holding them close to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss upon them.

           “Watch over her. Promise me that. Please…”

           Barbatos, observing this silent exchange, nodded in understanding. The air in the room seemed to shimmer with an unspoken bond, a connection that transcended the uncertainties of the impending conflict.

  —

             Freedom. That’s all that matters. That’s all that matters to the people of Mond. Freedom is everything to them, and if it were to be taken from them, they would rebel and fight for it to get what is rightfully theirs.

           That is what everyone fought for. That is what Venti fought for when the tyrant locked them up. And that freedom is what he promised to seek for his dearly beloved.

           The promise… That’s right, the promise.

           Barbatos made a promise to his friend: to guard and keep you safe from your father’s wrath. That he achieved. He did not need any of those extravagant praises from everyone, or a luxurious celebration that he protected the last survivor of the royal family. Your love and attention were enough for him as his honorarium, and if his plans went smoothly, then he couldn’t ask for more than your presence.

           But what about his promise to you? Not as Venti, not as Barbatos the Anemo Archon, but as Barbatos the wind wisp. He faintly recalled from his memories, vague echoes of your voice ringing in his head to protect your dear. He could hear your cries, he could vision your tearful face, and he could smell the faint aroma of smoke and blood from the past.

           “Barbatos, please. Protect Venti…”

           He stood at the precipice of conflicting roles, torn between the weight of his promise to the girl he cherished and the duty he bore as the Anemo Archon. The memories of her pleas echoed through the chambers of his mind, each word a poignant reminder of the sacrifice she had made.

           As he prepared for the impending battle against Decarabian, Barbatos couldn't shake the dual nature of his existence. The freedom he had fought for was now intertwined with the personal pledge he made to safeguard Venti—the mortal guise he wore to be closer to you.

           The wind wisp, a manifestation of his divine essence, hovered beside him, a silent witness to the internal struggle. Barbatos knew that protecting Venti meant more than shielding the bard from physical harm; it meant preserving the essence of the person he had become through his interactions with you.

           The wind wisp chimed softly, a comforting melody that seemed to say, "I'll protect what you hold dear." At that moment, Barbatos made a silent vow to honor both promises—to secure the freedom of Mondstadt and to shield the vulnerable heart of the bard who had become an inseparable part of his divine existence.

           Yet no matter how much he convinced himself that he still preserved the life of Venti for all these years, those were merely pathetic excuses he gave to himself that he was unable to protect him. That was the harsh truth he wished to never know. The harsh truth he often ran away from. The harsh truth is the least he wanted you to know. And because of that harsh truth, you will never be able to uphold your promise to Venti to travel the world with him.

           You were living a life of lies.

           ���I hate you,”

           Such vile words escaped from your delicate lips, coated with nothing but hatred. All love was lost and diminished. Resentment smoldered within you, a slow-burning fire that refused to be extinguished.

           “I hate you!”

           Three venomous words stung into his heart and soul. His eyes, once alight with the sparkle of mischief, were now dimmed by the torrent of tears that streamed down his ethereal face. He reached out his hand to you as tears cascaded down like a torrent.

           “[Name], no… Don’t leave me, please!”

           His voice cracked, carrying the weight of a thousand heartbreaks. His outstretched hand trembled, fingers desperately reaching for something that was slipping away.

           The once carefree Anemo Archon was now a broken deity, his essence shattered by the cruelty of your hatred.

           “No, no, no!! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here!!”

           His chest heaved with sobs, each tear a testament to the agony that consumed him. The celestial realm seemed to weep alongside him, mirroring the storm within his soul.

           Barbatos jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. The echoes of your anguished words still reverberated in his ears, a haunting melody that refused to fade. The room felt oppressive, shadows dancing on the walls like spectral remnants of the nightmare that had gripped him.

           His chest heaved as he tried to dispel the lingering emotions from the dream. The remnants of your hatred clung to him, a weight that threatened to drown him in a sea of regret. The moon cast a soft glow through the window, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had unfolded in the dream.

           With trembling hands, Barbatos wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, realizing that he had been pulled into the depths of a waking nightmare. The images of your tears and the venomous words hung in the air, a phantom reality that felt too close for comfort.

           He whipped his head and cast his eyes promptly into the quiet room until they landed on a maiden deep in her slumber. Barbatos sighed in relief and for a moment, he simply sat there, the silence broken only by the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. The nightmare had been a cruel reminder of the consequences of his choices, a vivid manifestation of the fears that lingered in the recesses of his heart.

           The lies Barbatos had forged for years were now haunting him. The lies that shielded you from the brutal reality all for the sake of selfish love. Barbatos had meticulously woven a tapestry of deception to protect you from the burden of his divine obligations, but mostly from his growing sick and obsessive love for you.

           You still haven’t discovered he was the new Anemo Archon until the blonde traveler told you everything about him during the night of the Ludi Harpastum festival. Barbatos scoffed, recalling how you were so caught off guard when the truth finally surfaced after you were separated from him. If only that pesky traveler and his fairy companion just minded their own business, he wouldn't need to cast you into a deep yet tranquil slumber.

           With great reluctance, he drew himself up and looked at the girl who held a very special place in his heart. You’ve brought so much joy and happiness to his life, not to mention more laughter than anyone else ever could. To see you seething with anger and searing pain would bring a weight on his chest like nothing else.

           Barbatos slowly embraced your hand to his, slipping his fingers in between, and softly brushed his lips along your knuckles, kissing each of them one by one. His vision blurred as his gaze wandered towards your angelic features, but a sudden pang of panic gripped his heart.

           “I didn’t knock her hard, have I?” he asked himself, his mind suddenly clouded with worry. The archon sighed deeply, berating himself over his unplanned actions. It was fortunate he still knew how to wield his powers and put you to sleep. He just hoped he didn’t dose you too much where it’ll take you years for you to wake up. He could only hope you’ll wake up soon, otherwise he might throw another outburst in Mondstadt.

           You've always brought light into his world and filled him with warmth. In a matter of minutes, you've managed to affect him in ways he never thought possible. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes tightly, replaying the many times he found comfort in your arms or gave him a loving smile. There were many things he would like to say, but for now, his turbulent state of mind is not helping him.

           Barbatos groaned in frustration, ruffling his head in sheer irritation. It took every ounce of strength within him to restrain himself from throttling some ignorant traveler. Those ungrateful bastards deserve to pay dearly for ruining his precious morning.

           His rigid frame softened and he shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. Barbatos slumped on the floor next to you and hugged his knees.

           As if afraid to wake up, it feels like a waste to even blink within this dream. And to think that the other side of the sky is so vast… Does he deserve this ending?

           Sometimes some things can’t be helped. While wounded by his own helplessness, the present in all its clumsiness, is changing into a brilliance of fabric reality.

           The more I protect it, the more it looks fragile. And the more I steal it, the more I want it…

           Barbatos sighed, the weight of his internal conflict bearing down on him. You’re everything to him—his source of strength, his light in the darkness, and the light at the end of the tunnel he was always seeking. The guilt that slowly piled upon him like countless millstones on a tree of regret and the past memories won’t let him move forward, hindering him from doing what’s right.

           He knew you deserved better than what he had given you. He’s been hiding a lot of things from you: his identity, his status as an archon, and even the death of Venti.

           Barbatos tugged his hair tighter, his frustration palpable in the agitated movements. He couldn't escape the relentless truth that bound him — because to you, Barbatos was merely your wisp friend. He was not the Anemo Archon, and certainly not the free-spirited bard.

           It frustrates me because I can’t be him and it begins to burn at my throat.

           Biting his lips, blood drew out. How cruel was he to decide to pose as your lover? He only wanted to be loved, cherished, and adored. To hide behind masks of illusions and cruelty? It’s not what you deserve.

           He clutched at his chest as if trying to quell the searing pain that echoed through his heart. The memories of carefree days as Venti taunted him like elusive specters. The laughter, the music, the unburdened joy — they felt like distant echoes mocking him in his current divine form.

           Barbatos needs you. Venti needs you. He fumblingly sauntered to your bed and gently opened his palms, caressing your soft skin. He felt a newborn warmth along him.

           The deceptive dance of his identity left him feeling vulnerable. The looming possibility that you might leave him once you wake up and still remember the truth was a haunting specter. Every moment spent with you was tinged with the fear of losing the connection he so desperately craved. For now, everything is falling into place. He'll continue to act as him even if it means to deceive you. But that won't ever happen again, he'll be careful— cautious— about everything he does around you. The past will never haunt him anymore. It will never touch you.

        You will never know. It was all a dream. A nightmare. But it's better not to mention anything of what happened that night, isn't it? It's the best and safest option. The world that should be smiling kindly to you and his friend reverted to his direction, taking their wishes that were never his from the beginning.

           There’s a place he yearns for but can never reach. The place he wants so much but can never grasp. He almost forgot to wish when he gazed in the distance.

           In his tightly clenched fist, his heartbeat is heating up again. Leaning down, he rested his head against your stomach and closed his eyes, breathing in the same pattern as yours in rhythm.

           “I love you,” he whispered, fluttering his lashes to where you lay and gazing at you oh so lovingly. His fingers trickled to your arm, clinging and clutching, before traveling to your bare neck. “You love me too, right, [Name]? You’ve always said you love me.”

           He crawled over you, his physique looming over your comatose state. His teal irises glittered as he peered closely at your sleeping face. His lips curved upwards in a smile before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

           That dreamless sleep, the veil between worlds will fall aside. His lingering touch, beaming with emotions he wasn’t aware of, glistening with affection, reverence, and lust all at once, creating a warm nimbus aura around his body. All while his unguarded words formed something like a prayer.

           “Oh love, you’re so pretty… so tender, and so beautiful.”

           His slender finger gently traced the contours of your face, tracing every outline of the contour of your nose, cheeks, and lastly lips. It lingered for more than a few seconds. He leaned in, slowly and carefully. He stared at you and let them blur as he stroked your cheeks.

           There was no response, not even an inkling of recognition or reaction.

           He exhaled shakily, taking off any remorse or guilt left in his conscience, and pressed his lips against yours. He savored the sweet taste that lingered on your dry lips.

           I love you, I love you, I love you…

           Despite their parched state, he paid no mind, lost in the intoxicating essence of your embrace. His kiss was light and soft, yet it held a fervent passion as if the dryness of your lips only intensified the craving for the delectable flavor he found there.

           I love you so much, [Name]. The things you do to me…

           With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes and relished every bit of your breath, wanting nothing more than to get drunk on its sweetness. Barbatos slowly pulled away, his lips tugging your bottom lip before it bounced back to its place. He panted, blinking for a few moments.

           A kiss with you has always been his favorite, and it didn’t take too long for him to know he wanted more because shortly he went back and connected his lips with yours again.

           A kiss here, and another kiss, and another, and another. It went on a cycle, an endless loop that he didn't even know how long he had been kissing you repeatedly. So sweet. So enticing. One short kiss after another, he wanted to engrave this in his mind.

           With every passionate lip-lock, he became more obsessed. In all honesty, he felt that he would die if he stopped, the taste still lingering in his mouth and permeating through his whole being. You’re the ethereal drug, a celestial intoxication that transports him to heavenly realms.

           Barbatos, feeling an unsettling shift in the air, abruptly sensed an intruder nearing the ancient ruins and broke the kiss. He gritted his teeth and summoned swift wind spirits to investigate the entrance. Their ethereal forms swirled with urgency as they darted towards the source of the disturbance.

           Whoever dared to step foot in here will not be spared. He already warned them if they wish to be spared from his wrath. The archon's eyes, usually serene, now flickered with an intensity born of both irritation and vigilance as he awaited the wind spirits' report.

           Upon checking, a lone maiden was standing near the wind barriers. She placed the bouquet of Cecilia flowers on the altar created by the Church for their offerings.

           "For Mondstadt, as always. For the verdant plains, for the hills, and for the forests of Mondstadt. May they continue to flourish, as always. For Mondstadt, as always. For the everlasting freedom of Mondstadt from the blizzard and the tyrant, whose coldness and oppression are one and the same.”

           What a peculiar girl letting herself drenched in rain. The rain was strong and despite the bad weather, she still offered her prayers to him.

           “Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,”

           Her prayers echoed in his ears. Barbatos crossed his arms and watched her from afar through the eyes of the spirit he cast. A lot of things have changed in Mondstadt. The city, the village, and even Stormterror’s Lair where he currently resides with you.

           He didn’t pay any particular attention to the changes outside of the ruins. But he did notice many of his people frequently visited this area to pray and ask for their blessings. Perhaps someone from the Church must have noticed him and thought this was his abode, and decided to create a shrine here, but also making sure it won’t ever disturb him.

           It’s been a while since Ludi Harpastum ended. He didn’t want to admit it but he’s been counting the days since you’ve been asleep. From minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks, he never left your side. But he didn’t merely sulk in the corner, waiting for signs of you waking up. Unlike before, he decided to terraform the ruins to make it more to your liking.

��          He remembers very well that you love the garden of the manor, so he made a special area for you. He remembers you love your library in the tower, so he prepared lots of books for you to read. He remembers the fountain you’d always whisper your wishes at, so he built it for you. All these things he had done, he did it for you while he waited for you to open your eyes.

           The very essence of his being intertwined with the elements, breathing life into the desolate ruins. As he lifted his hands, a harmonious dance of nature began.

           The once crumbling tower regained its majestic stature, rising from the ground as if it had never suffered the scars of time. Petals of vibrant flowers cascaded in a gentle descent, wrapping around the structure like a colorful embrace. An intricate tapestry of blossoms adorned the surroundings, replacing the debris and rubble with a carpet of nature's beauty.

           The Anemo Archon had woven a tapestry of renewal and growth, turning the dilapidated ruins into a sanctuary of life and vitality. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blossoms, and the ambiance echoed the melody of his power, a testament to the god's ability to shape the very fabric of the world.

           He made the once rubbled, stormy lair into a sanctuary haven for his dear. It’s his gift for you that once you’re awake, you’ll dance around with him and live the life with him you’ve always dreamed of.

           He must admit though, the shrine built by the Church of Favonius was exceptionally well made and further enhanced the beauty of this sanctuary. Barbatos sighed, contemplating if he should aid the young girl by sheltering her. He never meant to become a ruthless archon and that is far from his ideals.

           His drastic change was all because of Aether. Of course, it was him. He’s too smart for his own good and Barbatos hates how quick he is to catch on to his relationship with you. But he’s here to change everything. So if he wanted to make a good image as an archon to his people, then so be it. After all, he only wanted your perception of him and that’s all he cares about. Nothing more, nothing else.

           He’ll make everything right this time. If you see him as reliable and trustworthy, then he’ll be loved by you. Finally taking his decision, he ordered his little spirits to guide the girl to find shelter. As for her prayers…

           Barbatos is no genie. He couldn’t guarantee all of his followers’ prayers. He’s not like the Dendro Archon who could cure illnesses…

           He sighed, the weight of his responsibilities settling on his shoulders. Being an archon was not a walk in the park. The expectations of the people, the intricacies of diplomacy with other nations, the constant struggle to maintain balance—all of it took its toll. Barbatos couldn't afford to let his guard down.

           News about his rampage must have reached his neighboring countries and he doesn’t want another burden to be added to his already tumultuous situation. As he watched the wind spirits guide the girl to safety, he couldn't help but feel the isolation that came with his position.

           The tower, now restored, stood as a symbol of his power, but it also harbored the secrets he desperately wanted to keep hidden. Aether's presence had disrupted the delicate equilibrium he had crafted, forcing him to confront the challenges that came with being both a god and a man.

           His thoughts circled back to you. Would you ever understand the complexities of his existence? The burden he carried for Mondstadt and its people? As the archon, he had to maintain an image, but beneath the divine facade, there was a being struggling with the desire for love and understanding. He also wanted you to see him as Barbatos.

           Not the Anemo Archon, but simply Barbatos, a young man who loves you through Celestia and Teyvat. Who harbored feelings for you for millennia.

           He shook off his inner turmoil, his eyes focusing on the horizon beyond the borders of the sanctuary. The wind carried whispers of prayers, and he knew he couldn't fulfill them all. The duties of an archon were exceptionally hard, and the struggles were his to bear. The winds howled in response, a melancholic melody echoing the challenges he faced.

           He sighed for the nth time, exhaustion began to creep over him. He placed the back of his hand over to his head to ease the throbbing pain of a migraine. The constant internal conflict and the strain of maintaining appearances were taking their toll.

           As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he summoned a gentle breeze to soothe his troubled mind. The rustle of leaves and the familiar scent of the wind helped him find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. He turned his back and returned to where you were.

           Barbatos kissed you on the lips and it calmed him, more effective than the breeze he used to himself. You’re always his cure, the one constant that brought tranquility to his turbulent existence. The soft touch of your lips against his was a momentary escape from the weight of his responsibilities. As he pulled away, a faint smile played on his lips, grateful for the solace you unknowingly provided him.

           “I promise you, I’ll make this our sanctuary.”

           At the end of his lonely world, maybe he’ll arrive at his true world with no regrets or remorse.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute

sorry for the delay on the update. i announced on my tumblr that i would be posting this chapter in late august or early september but a lot of things happened and i self-sabotaged this sob

[ellitx]

Chapter 21: Forsaken Child of Ancient Times

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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art belongs to: fridaynightcat

word count: 7.9k

           The soft chirps of the birds, singing their morning carols, gradually pierced through the haze of your dreams. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle patterns on the walls. You blinked slowly, your mind feeling foggy and disoriented. 

           Turning your head, a sea of dandelions and Cecilia flowers were assembled next to where you lay. The placement was… unique. It made it seem like an offering to a deity. The light peeking through the window emitted sun dust, casting perfectly over your awakened form. The rays weren't too harsh, rather it felt soothing to bathe under the sunlight. 

           It was a surprise it didn’t disturb your sleep. Somehow you felt… peaceful. Sitting up, you glanced around the room. It was unfamiliar, yet somehow comforting. The scent of fresh linen and the faint aroma of flowers filled the air. You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting the fragrance of flowers seep into your senses and calm you. 

           Amidst your serene mind state, a disturbing throbbing in your temple interrupted your meditation. You groaned from the discomfort and rubbed your temple, trying to chase away the lingering fog in your head. A few strands of your hair draped across your face while more cascaded over your shoulders, blending with the white robe you wore. You turned in utmost curiosity, running your fingers through the thread of locks and it was the realization that struck you that your hair had grown much longer, now reaching past your waist in silken waves. 

           Your attention shifted to your attire. You didn't recall owning this robe… or at least you felt like it wasn’t yours. You were dressed in a long white stola with loose, short sleeves that hung off your shoulders, secured by a clip. The sleeves flowed around you, more ethereal than structured. To keep your dress in place, a long turquoise ribbon was tied under your bust, its long streamers hanging loosely and brushing against your legs as you continued to ponder your whereabouts.

           Your eyes, still hazy from sleep, adjusted to the soft light filtering through the trees. They were a striking shade, reflecting the early morning sky. It somehow soothed your heart. Unlike the dark, gloomy, and cold sky you were used to, this peaceful morning brought you eternal serenity. You could continue sleeping peacefully without disturbance.

           As tempting as it was to give in to the soft and welcoming invitation of the mattress you were resting on, your mother had taught you never to let your guard down. You took another glance at the room and tried to piece together how you had come to be in this serene, yet strange, place. 

           It gave you the familiarity of your home when you were still with your mother and father; when the war was still not present but a continuous peaceful life you were living with your family; where you could still hear the echoes of your footsteps running across the halls, chasing after a butterfly, and giggling with your mother. The faint memories of your father, albeit had a different conception of love, still gave you the care and attention to protect you from harm. And you loved him so much when you were still a child. You constantly sought his attention and praise despite your mother scolding you he was too busy.  

           Closing your eyes again, you focused, recalling any significant events that occurred prior to your slumbered state. The birds chirping and the winds whistling danced into your ears. Yet no matter how you closed it off and ceased it to silence— despite how calming it was, that you cannot deny— the memories felt just out of reach, like trying to grasp the mist. 

           The beauty around you was undeniable. As you looked around, you couldn't help but give in to its calmness, despite the uncertainty that lingered in your mind. Taking a deep breath, you tried again. This time you embraced the sun's golden kiss, faintly evoking the time you were outside.  

           A bustling street nagged in your foggy head. A faint glow of the street lamps and candles scattered across the streets, replicating the kaleidoscope of colors that blurred together. Laughter echoed in your mind, faint but clear. And then a familiar voice was calling out to you…

           A figure clad in green with a lyre in his hand flashed through your mind. His lips curved into a soft, loving smile directed at you. Mindlessly, your lips were drawn to a smile as well. That’s right… you remembered being with Venti. You could almost hear the faint melody of his music. 

           He grabbed your hand, running off with you as you explored the town to celebrate the festival.

           Festival…? What festival…?

           You struggled to recall, trying to dig deeper, to capture the memory before it drifted away. The image of Venti’s hand entwined with yours was there, but everything else was blurry and out of reach.

           You were there to celebrate it with him. You remembered the vibrant energy of the town square, the laughter, and the sound of music. The warm, flickering glow of lanterns danced overhead as you and Venti weaved through the crowd, laughing as you tried to win each game set up for the festival. His eyes sparkled with delight. And then…

           And then what…?

           Your mind faltered. Resting your palm on your forehead, the throbbing began to worsen. You couldn’t remember anything. No matter how hard you try to dig deeper into your memories to refresh the events, only a blur and vague images appear that were impossible for you to grasp. When you felt like you could reach it, it slipped from your fingers like fine sand escaping through every gap it encompasses.

           A warm sensation burned against your skin. You lightly hissed and pulled down your robe, revealing the teal diamond symbol branded on your chest. You caressed it, cooling it off, yet your mind still wandered off your current whereabouts. 

           From the corner of your eyes, you saw a blue mist flickering. Before you could turn, the door creaking open alerted you. You grabbed the blanket and covered your body as if it were a protection. 

           An unknown hooded figure emerged through the door. Your heart raced and you gripped onto the sheets tightly, searching for any sort of item you could use as protection from the unknown presence. 

           You yelped as a loud thud echoed across the quiet room, the figure dropping a heavy basket they were carrying. Slowly, they reached up and pulled back their hood. A familiar pair of beautiful emerald eyes met yours, framed by dark, tousled hair. Recognition sparked in their eyes, and with it, a surge of relief.

           "[Name]..." Venti's voice trembled as he rushed to your bedside, wrapping his arms around you in a fierce, almost desperate embrace. "Oh, thank the winds you’re awake. I was so worried… I thought… I thought you wouldn’t wake up again."

           "Venti…?" Your voice was barely a whisper, still in a haze of sleep. "What… What's going on? Where are we?"

           A gentle smile touched his lips, his expression was soft with an affection that felt so warm, so grounding. "It’s our new home, love." His words lingered in your mind. You didn’t fully understand his words, but an odd sense of calmness washed over you, dulling any questions that tried to arise.

           Your eyes drifted shut as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. A soft, blissful headspace clouded over your thoughts, leaving you weightless, every worry and stray thought had been swept away by a tender breeze.

           "Wait here," Venti murmured, his voice akin to a whisper. "I’ll prepare you something to eat."

           Moments later, he returned with a bowl of warm porridge in his hands. Sitting by your side, he scooped a small amount in the spoon, and carefully brought it to your lips. The flavor was mild, comforting, something easy to swallow. You felt his gaze on you, a steady, unwavering presence that eased the heaviness in your heart.

           You slowly ate as he fed you, occasionally glancing around the unfamiliar room. The dim glow of morning filtered through the narrow window, casting soft rays across the stone walls. Venti noticed you looking around but remained quiet, letting you be in your own world as he wiped off the small drops of porridge on your chin with a clean cloth. 

           After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat and hesitantly looked back at him. “Venti… this place… I don’t recognize it. Where… Where exactly are we?”

           His eyes softened as he watched you, sensing the worry behind your question. He set the empty bowl aside and leaned closer, giving you a comforting smile as he brushed a few loose strands of hair from your face.

           “We’re at the old tower,” he answered quietly. “It’s… a little different now than you might remember. I wanted to give us a place to rest, far from the noise and bustle.” He paused, his voice lowering just a touch, an edge barely restrained as he continued, “I hope this didn’t bring any bad memories of… your father...” 

           He coughed as he gestured around the room with a sweep of his hand. “It took a little work, but I think it turned out alright, don’t you?”

           You glanced around the space again, taking in the way the stone walls looked cleaner than the ruins you remembered. It was strange, yet it hit close to home— reminding you of both your peaceful time at the tower and your refuge with your mother and others. Everything felt vague, a dreamlike sensation.

           “Did… did you do this all by yourself?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around how the once-crumbled lair now felt like a safe haven.

           Venti chuckled, a hint of his usual playful charm creeping back into his voice. “Oh, let’s just say I had some help from the wind and a little bit of luck. When you were asleep, I figured I’d put some effort into making it… cozy. Comfortable.”

           He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You deserve a safe place to wake up, after all.”

           “I… I don’t know what to say… Thank you, Venti,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. Your gaze lowered to your lap, your fingers nervously tracing patterns over the fabric of your blanket. The fog in your mind shifted, stirring strange, blurry images that only grew more fragmented the harder you tried to grasp them.

           “What happened to me…?” you asked.

           “You… you passed out when we were celebrating Windblume,” he answered with a stutter. Though his voice wavered, he kept on a strong front to lessen your worries. “We were playing games and dancing around town, and then… you suddenly collapsed…” His brow furrowed together as he caressed your hand with his thumb. 

           "It really scared me, you know. I brought you back here to rest, and I’ve been taking care of you since." A gentle smile graced his lips as he squeezed your hand. "It’s been a while since the festival, and the city's calmed down now. But you should take it easy, alright? I don’t want you overexerting yourself again."

           You swallowed, a strange tightness forming in your chest as you took in his words. “H-how long?” Your voice cracked, and you leaned forward, catching him off guard as he instinctively leaned back. “How long was I asleep?” 

           Your voice quivered under your breath. Memories threatened to resurface— that same fear, that helpless feeling of sinking into darkness returned, creeping up the edges of your mind. You hated passing out, hated the vulnerability that came with it.

           It reminded you too much of that night… the night that left you helpless when he had chosen to join the rebellion. You screamed at him, desperately pleading to him not to leave you. You were left to the unknown of time and uncertainty. Though this time it was just a matter of health, the thought of losing control over your own fate again sent a chill down your spine.

           Your fingers tightened around his hand as if clinging to something real, something grounding in the sea of disquiet. Not again, you thought. You couldn’t bear that helplessness again.

           Venti's mouth parted, words caught somewhere between his throat and lips as he stared at you in stunned silence. The look in your eyes was something he couldn’t quite put into words. It gripped him, rooting him to the spot as his mind raced. For the first time, he was at a loss, unsure of how to reach you. He didn’t know how to soothe the subtle quiver in your voice, that deep fear lurking in your gaze.

           A bead of sweat rolled a slow path down his temple. He swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly as he struggled to find the right words. You were barely awake, and already he could see the distress settling into you.

           He needed to be careful with his choice of words… He swallowed the lump sitting in his throat and squeezed your hand.

           “T-Three weeks…” he finally managed to stammer, his voice barely a whisper, almost hesitant. He forced a soft smile, though his heart pounded with a hint of dread. Would that be enough to keep you calm? To reassure you?

           Three weeks of your life that felt like a blink in time, gone without your knowing.

           His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a gentle, almost soothing gesture, yet his grip felt tense, as though he were steadying himself more than you.

           You relaxed and moved away, finally dawning how close you were to him. You uttered an apology, drawing circles on his skin, but all worries were erased when he sealed it by lacing your fingers together, rubbing yours in a comforting manner as well.

           The answer was far from reality, but he wouldn’t take that risk of ruining your mental and emotional state.

  —

             It had been a week since you had woken up and you had already adjusted to a cozy life. Life in the old capital was calm, almost peaceful. It was still in ruins, but the gardens were mostly cleared. Seeing the rubbles left alone there felt poignant, commemorating a historic event in the new era of Mondstadt. The memories of what had happened might have been daunting to recall, but they were part of history now.

           You remembered how Venti had guided you around the area, exploring the revitalized grounds as you threw him questions here and there. He told you that during the restoration, many people had helped clear the debris. He had mostly focused on overseeing the work, making sure that the structures were stable.

           You'd once asked where those helpers were now. Venti kicked a rock, folding his hands behind his head. 

           "They left. They were working continuously, day and night, to clear most of the area. I didn’t want to disturb you while you were recovering, so I asked them to leave quietly after they finished."

           You hummed in response. Just as you were about to ask him again, he cut you off, answering before you even got the words out. “They won’t be back soon, though. They have their own work as well at the main city.”

           The rest of the walk was quiet as he resumed talking about the different areas of the lair— the cleared fields to the west where the lake was, the garden he tended to in the south where a fountain was restored, the hunting grounds were at the north where most boars and birds could be found, and, in a more hesitant tone, the eastern area where your parents rested. He was visibly reluctant to bring up the sensitive topic, but he thought you should at least know.

           A pang of guilt touched your heart, knowing how much Venti had done so much for you… You had decided to cook him his favorite dish when you returned to the tower. He was surprised and grateful but insisted you didn’t need to do so.

           “It’s the least I could do,” you replied. “You’ve done so much for me, Venti.”

           You could never forget the small blush erupting across his face, and that little giggle emitted from your lips only made the tips of his ears burn redder.

           Each day, you made it a routine for you to visit your parents' resting place, often accompanied by Venti in the mornings. Simple stone markers were erected with patches of Windwheel Asters and Dandelions surrounding it. You'd kneel, clasp your hands, and bow your head to offer your prayers. The air felt still, holding a heavy kind of silence.

           Usually, Venti joined you in your prayers, but sometimes he stood a few steps behind you, his gaze fixed on one stone in particular— the one marking Decarabian’s place. His face would tense, a dark expression clouding his features, but he masked it with a calm demeanor. He kept silent, letting you pay your respects without interruption.

           You noticed that when he looked away, his hands tightened slightly as he crossed his arms. His gaze would drift over to your mother’s marker instead, watching the petals of the asters spin. 

           He was certain your mother, Amos, wouldn’t have been pleased to rest near her husband— not after everything he had done. So, Venti had placed a respectful distance between their makeshift graves. Not too far apart, so you wouldn’t have to walk much to visit them both, but not so close that it would disrespect Amos’s wishes.

           You had noticed this arrangement on your first visit, but you didn't question him about it, and he was grateful for that. 

           Now, you were praying before them. You usually left with Venti after paying your respects, but today, you wanted to spend a little more time here. You had never been able to say a proper goodbye to them. You recalled Venti saying your mother was a hero, but she had to sacrifice her life to stop your father.

           Venti was kind enough to give you some time alone with your family, allowing you the space to release the emotions that had been building up inside. Your throat felt tight, and you could feel the familiar sting of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. You resisted, telling yourself to stay strong. You didn’t want to cry. You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t.

           But here, in the quiet company of the stones that marked their resting places, it felt harder to hold back. Their absence settled heavily on your shoulders. Grief followed you since the day you lost them.

           You reached out, brushing your fingers against the soft petals of the Windwheel Asters that adorned her grave. A part of you wished that somehow, in some impossible way, she could hear you. That she could feel your presence and know that you still thought of her, that you still missed her every single day. A shiver ran through you, the ache of longing and gratitude entwined in your chest.

           After a few moments, you took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the storm within. You had no idea how long you'd been there, lost in your thoughts, but a gentle breeze rustled through the garden, brushing against your cheek like a comforting hand. You could almost imagine it was her touch, that she was with you, even if only in spirit.

           When you finally stood up, you felt a little lighter. The ache was still there, but somehow, it felt less suffocating. You turned to find Venti standing a respectful distance away, his expression soft and understanding.

           “Done?” he asked, uncrossing his arms and offering his right arm to you.

           You nodded, slipping your left arm into his, and before the two of you left, he pressed a soft kiss against your temple. The affection was sweet and comforting. He often showed you his love on a daily basis and you recall he told you he wouldn't let the day end without kissing you at least thrice. One to your temple, one to your neck or hand, and another to your lips. You clung to him as a shy smile came, and together, you walked back to the tower in peaceful silence.

           The two of you resumed your usual work. Venti was outside tilling the plots to plant a new harvest, meanwhile, you were in the kitchen cooking. The space was quiet, save for the soft sizzling sounds coming from the skillet as you cook. 

           You had managed to gather all the ingredients Venti collected from this week’s harvest: a generous cut of meat, a basket of fresh apples, a slab of butter, and a hint of pepper to add a little kick. The aroma was already filling the room, sweet and savory, and you couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride as the stew came together.

           You carefully cut the onions and garlic into small pieces, adding them to the skillet. The richness of the butter blended with the flavor of the meat, and you gave everything a gentle mix. The meat was browning nicely and beginning to soften, the scent mixing with the savory smell.

           Just as you were reaching for the pepper to finish it off, a familiar voice sounded behind you. “Making something special, I see?”

           You turned around to find Venti standing at the doorway, a curious glint in his eyes. He must have returned quietly, though you had been so focused on cooking that you hadn’t even noticed. His gaze softened as he took in the sight of you bustling around the kitchen, apron tied snugly around your waist, hair slightly tousled from the heat.

           “Thought I’d make us something warm,” you replied with a shy smile, returning to the stone stove.

           Venti stepped closer, peeking over your shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Apple Stew, hmm? I must say, I’m impressed. You’re really putting your heart into this.”

           You chuckled, simmering the meat as he watched. “I figured you’d like something hearty. And, well... I wanted to show my appreciation for everything you’ve done.” You added the pepper, giving the pot one last stir before looking at him. “You know, this is one of the recipes my mother taught me.”

           Venti’s smile softened. Without saying a word, he walked over and grabbed a knife from the counter. “Mind if I help? You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about cooking.”

           You raised an eyebrow but nodded, stepping aside to give him space. He took a carrot and moved with unexpected ease, his hand skillfully slicing the ingredient before pouring it over the simmering meat, coaxing out the aromas in a way that made your mouth water.

           After a few moments, he reached for a small pinch of pepper himself, adding just a bit more. “For a little extra warmth,” he said with a wink.

           “Show-off,” you teased, laughing softly.

           He simply grinned back, his eyes twinkling as he added a few drops of honey. The two of you worked side by side, exchanging small comments and laughter, each of you adding your own touches. Afterward, you worked on slicing the apples. Venti hugged you from behind, his arms circling over your waist, and watching your knife sliced through the apple.

           “I can’t work properly if you’re behind me,” you said as you took another apple from the basket and slicing it again. 

           Venti chuckled softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Oh, but you’re doing such a wonderful job, I can’t help but admire you up close,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, savoring the moment.

           You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Are you here to help or to distract me?”

           “Both, maybe,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “Besides, you look adorable when you’re focused.” He reached forward, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your cheek for a second longer than necessary.

           A warmth rose in your cheeks but you kept your attention on slicing the apple. “Well, if you keep distracting me, we’ll never finish this.”

           Venti finally released his hold with a soft sigh, stepping back just a bit but staying close enough that his presence was still comforting. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave… for now,” he teased. “But only because I can’t wait to try your cooking.”

           With that, he grabbed a few vegetables from the basket and began helping you slice them properly, his movements surprisingly precise and gentle. By the time it was finished, the room was filled with the comforting scent of apples and butter.

           After you were done cooking, you shared a meal together, and the warm aroma of freshly cooked meat and roasted vegetables danced in the cozy space. You took a bite and smiled, feeling the warmth spread through you. It was simple but perfect. 

           Venti took a tentative bite from his fork and closed his eyes, savoring the taste. “Mmm, finally an actual apple stew!” he hummed, his eyes twinkling as he looked over at you. “You know, people these days don’t even make proper apple stew anymore. It’s just braised meat pretending to be stew. But this?” He gestured to the dish with his fork, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “This is perfection. I should let you cook more often. Though, I’m afraid I might get spoiled...” he sighed dramatically.

           You laughed, dipping your fork back into the plate. “Well, I could get used to seeing you help out in the kitchen. Maybe you’re the one spoiling me by sticking around.”

           Venti chuckled, slicing the meat slowly. “Then it’s a mutual spoiling, wouldn’t you say?” His gaze softened as he spoke.

           A comfortable silence fell over you both as you continued eating. But as you glanced up, you couldn’t help but notice… something seemed different about him.

           "Did you... cut your hair?" Your voice trailed off as you leaned in slightly, examining him more closely. Venti, with his usual carefree demeanor, raised an eyebrow and flashed you a playful smile.

           "Hmm? Not that I remember, why?"

           You tilted your head, a slight furrow forming between your brows. It wasn’t just his hair—though you could’ve sworn it was a little shorter than before— how come you didn’t notice this when you were with him in the kitchen? But something else seemed different. His eyes, perhaps? They still held that mischievous glint, but there was a depth in them now, an intensity that wasn’t there before.

           "I’m not sure… It’s just… you look a bit different. Or maybe it’s just me."

           Venti chuckled softly, brushing off your concern with a light wave of his hand, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had subtly shifted in him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the faint shadows under his eyes.

           "You’ve been asleep for too long, I’ve always been the same ever since. Might just be my body changing,” he explained, but his teasing eyes returned in a flash. “Or maybe… you’re still getting used to seeing my charming face again after so long."

           His teasing tone brought a smile to your lips, but as you continued to eat, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, the unease lingering in the back of your mind. You wondered what else had changed while you were asleep for those long three weeks. 

  —

             You were back in your room— well, shared room— as your lover nuzzled his face over your chest. This was another one of the usual things you did after a meal, and from Venti’s words, his "favorite pastime activities".

           Back then, he frequently played his lyre and composed songs. He would let his creative side run free and express his day through a piece of literature, write songs of his feelings, and sing them to you. But he sloped into a touch-starved lover. Not that you minded, and you found it cute that he had become so clingy. 

           It was endearing, really, the way he melted into you, his hair loose and tousled across the bedspread as he hummed in contentment. His raven locks slipped through your fingers like silk as you gently combed through them, earning a delighted sigh from him.

           "I missed holding you," he murmured, his face pressing further into your chest. You chuckled softly; his behavior reminded you of a content kitten curled up in a safe place, unwilling to move.

           “I love you so much.” He tilted his head upwards, leaving a trail of gentle kisses over your collarbone as his fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you closer.

           Just as you were both sinking further into the warmth of each other’s embrace, a sudden, loud whoosh of wind echoed from outside. You both froze, startled by the unexpected sound.

           Venti lifted his head slightly, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "Ah, that must be Dvalin," he said, his voice laced with familiarity and a hint of excitement. "He's finally back."

           He sat up, his fingers gently slipping from your waist, but he kept one hand firmly clasped around yours. Rising to his feet, he gave you an encouraging tug, urging you to join him.

           "Come on, let's go outside," he said with a glimmer of eagerness in his eyes, pulling you toward the exit of the tower. As both of you emerged out of the tower, the dragon was situated close to your home, his wings closing in as he lay on the grass.

           You were surprised to see Dvalin, having completely forgotten about him, but it’s best you keep that to yourself. It’s no wonder why the area felt so empty. 

           Upon noticing your and Venti’s presence, Dvalin’s blue-flame eyes flickered as he watched Venti approach him. He relaxed when his hand was pressed onto his snout.

           “Welcome back,” Venti greeted. “How was your travel?”

           The dragon ignored him as he turned to you and lightly bumped his snout against you before licking your face, much to your shock. You staggered back, laughing as Dvalin’s massive tongue left a warm, wet trail across your cheek. Venti let out an amused chuckle but soon screamed as Dvalin tackled you to the ground, continuing to lick. You laughed at the blue dragon’s welcome greeting as you pleaded in between breaths for Venti’s help.

           “Alright, alright. That’s enough, Dvalin,” he said, pushing the dragon away from you. The latter huffed at Venti before blowing a wind to dry you up. “Looks like he missed you,” the bard teased, reaching up to scratch the scales just under Dvalin's snout. 

           Your giggles softened as you pat the dragon’s nose. He leaned in as his sharp eyes stared over yours. Dvalin’s jaw parted as he let out a deep grumble. You looked over at Venti who simply laughed.

           “He’s getting peckish. I’ll go get the basket of apples inside.” He gave Dvalin one last affectionate pat before stepping back. "Keep him entertained while I’m gone, alright? And try not to get tackled again," he said with a quick wink.

           You rolled your eyes, still catching your breath from Dvalin’s enthusiastic greeting. “I’ll do my best,” you replied, patting the dragon’s snout gently. Dvalin huffed again, his warm breath washing over you, but this time, he stayed still, his gaze following Venti as he retreated toward the tower.

           Left alone with the dragon, you took a moment to study his enormous form up close. Dvalin’s blue-flame eyes were softer now, almost gentle as he looked down at you, and there was something comforting in his steady presence. You reached up and gave him another pat, your fingers brushing over the smooth fur of his chest.

           "So... you missed me, huh?" you murmured, feeling slightly silly talking to such a massive creature, yet finding comfort in it nonetheless. You were still surprised to see such a majestic being. Creatures like Dvalin were often just mere fairy tales sung by bards, to see it for yourself felt surreal. 

           Somehow, he reminded you of your wisp friend. Perhaps he had gone off somewhere as well… 

           Dvalin gave a low rumble that vibrated through his body, almost as if he was purring. You chuckled, realizing how quickly you had come to appreciate these simple quiet moments. For all his power and might, Dvalin had a gentleness that you wouldn’t have expected from a creature so large and fierce.

           A few moments later, you noticed Venti returning from the tower, a woven basket in his hands brimming with apples, and another basket floating behind him. He swung it lightly as he approached, a carefree smile on his face that matched the playful sparkle in his eyes.

           “Apples, freshly picked from this week’s harvest!” he announced, lifting the basket with pride. “Perfect for a dragon-sized appetite.”

           “Hm, no wonder why you’ve collected so many apples. I thought you were hogging it to yourself,” you hid your mischief behind your hand as your lover let out a feigned gasp, clutching his chest dramatically, wounded by such a statement.

           “Oh, such hurtful words from my wife. Do you see me as a greedy apple hoarder?” he exclaimed, clutching the basket close as though shielding it from your accusation.

           You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with a playful smirk. “I mean, I have seen you sneak one or two before dinner…”

           Venti huffed, looking away with a mock pout. “I’ll have you know, those apples were taste-tested purely for quality control purposes. A necessary sacrifice for your well-being.”

           You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Sure, dear husband. Whatever you say.” His emerald eyes widened for a brief moment before they softened. He turned before you could see the blush appear on his cheeks.

           He grabbed a few apples from the basket, their red skins gleaming under the sunlight. Tossing one gently towards the Dvalin, the wyvern caught it mid-air with surprising grace, munching it down in one swift bite. 

           You joined in, picking up an apple and offering it to him. He delicately took it from your hand, his powerful jaws chewing contentedly. His eyes seemed to close in bliss, and you felt a surge of warmth seeing such a mighty creature in such a peaceful moment.

           After a while of feeding Dvalin, Venti plopped himself down onto the grass and opened his arms. “Come sit with me,” he said, motioning you in an invite. Though you understood his intention, you sat next to him. You plucked a few blooms of Windwheel Asters and started weaving them. Venti mimicked you, but he grabbed Cecilias instead. Together, you exchange glances and sing a song as Dvalin lay contently nearby, basking in the presence of his small human friends.

           Venti worked quickly, fingers nimble as he twisted stems and tucked the white petals together. Occasionally, he’d glance over at you, a soft smile crossing his face as he watched your concentration. The flower crowns started to take shape as the colors and petals winded together. Once he was finished with his, he gently placed it on top of your head, his gaze warm and tender.

           “There,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “A perfect crown for a perfect queen.” He tucked your long hair behind your ear before his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

           You laughed, your cheeks heating up, and placed your own crown on Venti’s head in return. “And one for my dear bard,” you said, playfully adjusting it to sit crookedly.

           He laughed and Dvalin let out a low rumble as if amused by your antics. He leaned back, stretching out on the grass with one arm over your side, pulling you close to him as he looked up at the sky. You mirrored him, your head on his shoulder as the three of you settled into a comfortable silence.

           The warm afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the area. The gentle breeze rustled the grass and the wildflowers, filling the air with their sweet scent. Dvalin rested his head on his claws, his massive form radiating warmth as he settled close by, content to watch over you and Venti.

           A soft thud was heard and you turned to the direction of the sound to see a small turquoise orb framed with golden ornaments next to Venti. The bard silently cursed and picked it up, but before he could keep it back in his tunic, your curiosity got the better of you.

           “Can I… touch it?”

           Venti paused, his fingers brushing over the surface of the orb. For a brief moment, he seemed lost in thought, almost hesitant, before a soft smile spread across his face. He opened his hand, offering it to you.

           “Of course,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I wouldn’t deny you something so simple.”

           You reached out and picked up the jeweled amulet, marveling at its soft glow. The teal light shimmered, reflecting in your eyes as you held it close, entranced by the swirling energy inside. Your fingers traced over its cool, smooth surface, feeling the faint hum of power contained within.

           “It’s… beautiful,” you murmured, glancing up at him with wonder. “What is this? Does it always glow like this?”

           Venti chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched your fascination. “That’s an Anemo Vision. Maybe it’s drawn to you, just as I am.”

           Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you quickly looked back at the Vision to hide your smile. It was mesmerizing, a tiny world of light and magic in your hands. You held it gently, almost reverently, as if it were a precious treasure.

           Venti raised his palm, and with a soft breeze, a lyre appeared before your eyes, seemingly from thin air. You gasped, watching as he twirled his finger in a gentle circle, the instrument dissolving back into the air as quickly as it had come. Then, with a faint smile, he ran his hand over his chest, and a subtle glow appeared beneath his robe. Slowly, he pulled the fabric aside, revealing a diamond-shaped mark on his skin, glowing softly with a gentle light.

           Venti leaned back, watching you in silence, his eyes reflecting something deep and unspoken. “Maybe… one day, you’ll have your own Vision,” he whispered, barely audible. He could have and would have gladly given you one this instant if not for the secrets he hid from you. The strong desire to ask for your hand in marriage was tempting, but he held back.

           He didn’t dare risk raising your suspicions. He was just a normal bard gifted with Anemo Vision. That was his role, nothing more. He had often imagined these scenes in his head but never dared to speak of them. A quiet life, one where the two of you could wake up each morning to the sound of rustling leaves and soft winds. He had already achieved that step, but there was more. More intoxicating dreams and desires beneath his heart. 

           He could almost picture it— a ceremony under a canopy of stars with a field of Cecilia flowers blanketing the garden. A long, elegant white gown hugged your figure perfectly, and your transparent veil, clipped behind you, trailed and brushed gently against the ground. His breath caught as you turned to him, your bright [eye color] eyes meeting his own emerald ones as he stepped closer. Vows were whispered, carried by the wind, and scattered by dandelions, carrying them far and wide.

           He wanted to see you in a simple band of gold, your eyes gleaming as he gently slipped the ring on your finger, a visible mark that you were his and he was yours, tied together in a bond no god or mortal could ever sever. He thought about the home you both shared, where laughter filled the air and the scent of warm meals welcomed him after every journey. He wanted to sit by a fire with you, your head on his shoulder, and call it your own little haven.

           But those were just dreams. Dreams he had been longing for were stuck in his mind. Yet, you were indulging him in those wishes. He never said a word nor told you of his sappy desires, yet you were fulfilling them for him. You were fulfilling them with him. It had to be Celestia’s way of paying back to him, right?

           He had always gotten the short end of the stick. He had been robbed of everything— his joy, his friends, and his gnosis, so it was only natural to be grateful for what he had been blessed with, right? He didn’t care that his gnosis was taken by the Fatui or that they might have plans for it. Fate was pushing him toward you. You were meant to be his. 

           You were always made for him since the beginning. You just didn’t know it yet.

           He had been waiting for years, millennia even. How could he deny such a gift from the one he had been longing for all his whole life? He was too deep in the rabbit hole he had pulled himself into, and escaping was practically impossible. In fact, he didn’t want to leave. 

           This rabbit hole was his twisted heaven. Guilt no longer ate him like a hungry beast that hunted him day and night. It metamorphosed into a sea of butterflies, leaving their chrysalises to draw all the sweetest nectar from the fairest flower in the garden. The domestic life with you was gradually blooming. It was perfect. It was only a matter of time before he found the perfect opportunity to propose to you. 

           He heaved a sigh and let his fingers trace the glowing mark on his chest. “Someone as kind-hearted and beautiful as you deserve nothing less.”

           You blinked, surprised, but Venti simply laughed it off, pulling his robe over to himself to hide the marks. “For now, just enjoy this one.”

           Even if he was unable to give you a ring, the trinket was enough as a stand-in for what he longed to give you. Although it wasn’t a real vision, only resembling in appearance, it was the essence that mattered. 

           You continued to turn the Vision over in your hands, feeling the weight of it as you laid back against the tree. Somehow the trinket reminded you of something. But you couldn’t tell what it was. You recalled hearing the term Vision before, but it was your first time understanding about it. 

           You traced the orb, and slowly, your eyelids grew heavy, and the vision, now clutched close to you, became a comforting glow against your chest. Before long, you drifted off to sleep. Venti smiled, leaning over to press a tender kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Sweet dreams, my love.”

           And as you slept, the Vision’s glow remained. Once you were deep in your slumber, Venti carefully gathered you in his arms and carried you back to the tower, gently laying you down to rest.

           After making sure you were settled, he stepped out of the room and closed the door with a quiet thud. He leaned against it, sighing heavily as he ruffled his hair. He seized his dark raven locks between his fingers and rubbed them, eyeing the faint teal ombre at the tip. 

           You were very inquisitive today— far too inquisitive for his liking. It wasn’t a good sign and he didn’t want to keep dodging your questions, lest it raised your suspicions. Venti usually enjoyed your curiosity. It was one of the things he found endearing about you. In most instances, at least. But he thought it was better to leave you in the dark sometimes. To leave things untouched, or quietly rewritten. Having you worry about everything would ruin the point of the sanctuary he created. 

           And sometimes, it was better not knowing every detail. Ignorance was simply kinder, and honey traps were more ethical than nets. He was doing it for you in the end, like he does most things.

           There was nothing else to call it but greed. Perhaps love, but mostly greed. A habit he couldn’t break free from no matter how hard he tried. Venti didn’t want to make you hate him, but he knew he was walking a fine line. Even so, ensuring your safety— your life— mattered more to him than how you might feel about him in the end. You might never understand his reasoning. You were still the foolish, still human, still so beautifully naive girl he was smitten with for the past 1000 years. Was that truly so much to ask? For you to remain the way you were?

           Maybe you could understand his feelings if you saw his actions as an act of devotion to protect you. Even if it was a falsity, a fictitious tale detached from what was true. He didn’t want you to hate him. He wanted you to see him as he saw you: as your lover, your keeper, your divine love, and someday, soon, your husband.

           He needed you— all of you— to himself. He needed you to understand that you were his destiny, his sanctuary, his salvation. From the heavens that demanded everything from him, from the burdens that no mortal could comprehend, you were the light that kept him alive. The two of you were tied together by fate perversely, twisting its threads to bind you to him and that was the law of the sky. And Venti? He would never let that thread fray.

           He pushed himself off the door, his hand lingering on the wood for a moment before he turned away. His steps echoed faintly down the winding stairs as he made his way outside. The cool air greeted him as he stepped into the open field, casting a dark shadow over his eyes. 

             “Dvalin,” the bard called out the wyvern. The said dragon’s eyes flickered open as Venti approached, becoming alert and attentive.

           He placed a hand on the dragon’s snout and said, “No matter what, don’t let [Name] leave this place. Ever.” His voice was firm, carrying a weight that made the dragon’s blue-flame eyes narrow with understanding.

           He raised his hands, a gust of wind swirling around him as he channeled his power. The winds coalesced, taking shape bit by bit until a tiny figure emerged— a face as dark as the void beneath its hood, with bright white dotted eyes glowing, and two small sprouts resembling feathers on its head. It wore what looked like a cloak, its form fluttering along the air, with three tiny wings on one side and a light blue diamond gleaming on its chest.

           Dvalin watched the spirit float in front of him, blinking in curiosity. 

           “When I’m with her, I’m Venti,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the breeze. “Just a simple bard. Not Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. Remember that.” His gaze softened as he extended a hand toward the floating wisp.

           He gestured for it to come closer to Dvalin. "This little fella here will be your new friend," Venti said with a faint smile. 

           “Dvalin, meet Barbatos, the wind elf.”

i made some subtle changes in chapters 11 and 12 for continuity purposes lmao it doesn’t affect the whole plot (thankfully) but i want to be consistent with the genshin lore. some may call it a retcon, but it’s just my god-like editing powers given to me by Celestia. my book, my rules >:)

Now shhh… just sit back and enjoy venti resisting himself to propose and marry you on the spot, living his cottagecore life with his beloved wifey. in his head you’re already married to him the moment you call him husband

[ellitx]

Chapter 17: Ludi Harpastum 2

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 6.3k

           Venti steadied his breath, trying to calm the adrenaline rush of his nerves and the palpitation of his heart. He strides long and fast, searching for a place with less crowds and far from the main venue.

           “Ven—  Venti— wait!”

           Your pleas went deaf to his ears. You tried to keep up with his pace but he was too fast. Even if he was dragging you along with him, it was getting too much for you. Your wrist hurts so much. And you can feel the stems of the flower bracelet piercing through your skin because of the tight pressure.

           “Venti!” You cried out as loud as you could. But it was useless. He just kept running away from the venue where you both were supposed to celebrate the festival together. You tried to free yourself from his strong clutch but it wasn’t budging.

           “Please stop, Venti!"

           The bard paused, finally stopping in his tracks. You gulped heavily, catching your breath from keeping up with him. The pain on your wrist suddenly became bearable – maybe because of how much you've been suppressing it for some time now.

           “What’s wrong? Why did you suddenly run away from the city?” You asked in between your heavy breaths. 

           Venti turned to look at you, concern written in his eyes.

           “I…”

           I don’t want you to meet them. He thought. 

           He wished he could say that and yet you'd have no idea what he means by it.

           "I just need to get some fresh air." He lied.

           Venti hates lying. He doesn't want to lie to you. It's like killing the relationship he had already established. To keep you safe, he would tell infinite lies if he had to. He does believe in honesty, yet his love for you is his supreme first principle.

           “I-is that so? I was worried we left Mondstadt when we were supposed to find a different game.” You pouted.

           Venti smiled, relieved that you didn't ask him more questions about his sudden shift of behavior. But he wasn’t relieved when he saw small trails of blood dripping down the arm he was holding. Venti, in great panic, released your wrist and gently cleaned the smears of blood ruining your skin. 

           “Shoot, I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to...”

           His gaze immediately turned despondent and miserable. He felt his knees giving up as drops of your blood stained his own palm.

           Why…

           He asked himself. 

           Why is everything turning out this way?

           Venti was supposed to be enjoying this celebration with you and yet he himself was the one ruining it. Biting his lip, he fought the urge to cry.

           “I-I’m sorry, I...”

           He held your bloodied hand between his and healed it with Anemo. His chest stung. He can feel the marks on his chest burning. He can sense how hurt you are.

           How did I turn out this way…?

           His vision blurred heavily. Tears spilled over and flowed down his face like a river escaping a dam. No matter how much he wanted to hold back his cries, a small drop of tear fell on the back of his hand.

           “How… did I…”

           When did I make a wrong turn? What was my mistake?

           The more Venti thought about it, the more confused he got. How could he be so careless that he would end up hurting someone he loved? He was supposed to protect you, not hurt you.

           He only wanted someone to love and could be loved. However, he wasn’t able to become this person.

           “Venti, hey,” you cupped his cheeks and pressed your temple with his, gazing deeply into his watery emerald eyes as you hushed him. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that badly.” 

           You reassured and tried to smile but the pain in your wrist made it difficult for you to do so. It hurts to see you smile through the pain. With hurry, he used more of his anemo vision to heal you. 

           “I’m sorry…” He apologized, his voice wavering as he turned away from you to hide his red face and disorganized visage.

           “Venti, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong." You assured him gently, pulling at his chin. "It's okay, you know?"

           "I'm really sorry," Venti whispered and averted his gaze, hiding his face from you.

           "No, please look at me. I'm right here." You smiled softly, taking his hands in yours again.

           "What if I'm no good for you anymore?" Venti asked with a trembling voice, still avoiding eye contact with you. "What if I've ruined everything we had?"

           Your breath hitched and at a loss for words he’d think of that. Is that why he was so apprehensive when he left the plaza? All this day, he’d been overthinking the relationship the two of you have bloomed. You pulled him in safe and tight and you wouldn’t let go for a long time.

           Venti’s breath was taken away, not from the squeeze but from the realization that your arms were finally around him.

           Carding your fingers through his short dark hair, you whispered in his ear, “You know I always love you. Even your imperfections.”

           Even my imperfections…

           He repeated to himself. Burying his head on your shoulder, he snuggled closer and he held onto your bare back. He pressed on the teal mark he implanted on your skin and traced it lovingly with his thumb. 

           The guilt is slowly eating him up. Every second, he fears you’ll know the truth he’s been hiding from you. Every minute, he fears Aether will approach you. And every time he thinks of these, he fears you’d leave him all alone, abandoned and deserted where he can’t feel your warm love anymore.

           “Come on, let’s go back to Mondstadt.” You helped him stand up and fixed his attire from his hat to his cape until he was well-kept and tidy. “You still have to take the title of Champion of Ludi Harpastum, don’t you?”

           It was an attempt to make it lighthearted and Venti appreciated it. Smiling shyly, he nodded and took your hand to embrace it with his.

—

           Briefly, a dark, wispy cloud eclipsed the crescent moon. For a few shadowy moments, it looked like there was a halo around the cloud, a dull aura of lunar luminescence. Lights were flickering in the distance as you walked with Venti back to Mondstadt.

           Even at this hour, the lively energy never seems to cease. The people are still crowded and much busier than a day. Now that the taverns were open, the men had flocked there to drink Angel’s Share’s signature wine. You saw a little cat girl, scolding a man with similar features as hers before she took the bottle from him.

           There is an air of celebration everywhere, from the sounds of merriment and laughter to the smells of food and incense. You feel a sense of joyous anticipation in the streets as if everyone is anticipating something grand.

           With each step you take, you feel like time has slowed down. Venti’s cape fluttered behind him as you followed his lead. 

           You hear the clink of coins as they rattled against each other or a jingle of jewelry as women walk by. You also saw people putting on makeup, choosing outfits, and doing their hair. Some wore robes while others dressed more casually.

           The more you lay your eyes on his back, the more your heart raced. 

           So warm…

           You smiled to yourself lightly.

           Our treasured celebration together. I hope I can make some fun memories with Venti.

           One moment the road is there, wide open and safe, the next there are loud noises, individuals flocking together and pushing themselves to push through the crowd to reach their desired destination. A little girl came rushing, her little boots pattering against the ground and crashed onto you due to your deep thought of admiration for what’s in front of you.

           It is the equivalent of looking without seeing, a form of loving blindness.

           The girl fell on the ground, dragging you along with her as her red hat fell off of her head. The sound of the ruckus didn’t cease and you turned around to see if anyone was hurt.

           “Ouchie…”

           She grumbled, rubbing her left shoulder while she tried to get up from the ground. You feel bad for being so distracted and seeing her carrying a big bag added more salt to your wound.

           “Are you okay?" You crouched to reach her height and assisted her. "I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? Do you have any injuries?"

           "No..." She shook her head before noticing that the contents of her bag had fallen out of her hands. "Oh no!" exclaimed her, as she quickly gathered the fallen item. From the ground was a ball with unique patterns and small rabbit-like objects.

           "Klee, I told you to stay close to me." A voice chimed in and you looked up to see a young man with pale blond hair and teal eyes. He knelt down and assisted the young girl, collecting all the bunny objects before keeping them inside the big backpack.

           Concerned, you assisted her in collecting the small toys, feeling bad for bumping into her and causing a commotion in the middle of the street. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” Your voice had a noticeable regret in it and as you grabbed the other toy bunny, another hand came in and took it before you could.

           It was the same young man. Fortunately, that was the last item and you didn’t have to worry about wondering where the rest went. 

           “That's ok! Thanks for helping, Miss!" She spoke up with a wide and bright smile as if the sun appeared before you in the middle of the night. She then turned her attention back to the young man next to her. "I’m sorry too, Albedo..."

           “It’s not me you should be apologizing to, Klee.” He shook his head and glanced at you. Klee’s eyes sparked an understanding of what he meant. She turned her head and fiddled with her small fingers, feeling shy to face the lady before her.

           “I’m sorry for bumping into you, Miss…”

           “Oh no, you shouldn't apologize for something like this. It doesn’t matter who is at fault here, we both made a mistake.” You smiled, trying to put an end to the tension.

           “You're right! Thank you, Miss!”

           “I'm glad you're alright. Are you doing well?" You patted her big red hat and she nuzzled into your palm, her heart beginning to warm at the fuzzy feeling she’s having.

           “Yes! I haven't seen you around this city yet, Miss. Are you from a foreign land?” Shaking your head, you offered her a sweet and shy smile. “I’m a Mondstadtian too. And it feels… new to me see the city so lively and full of life…”

           Unlike the previous city you’ve lived in where only cries and struggling to survive in the bloody battles endlessly echoed in your head. But you don’t want to ruin this joyful evening with your dark thoughts. It’s time to leave the past and move on.

           “Hehe, it feels great to finally meet someone so kind and nice. You even helped me gather all the things I needed for the Ludi Harpastum. This is the first time Dodoco and I ever felt so happy when playing with my friends!” Klee showed you her stuffed rabbit doll and you can’t help but coo at their cuteness. 

           She hopped and took your hand in hers while her already sparkling red eyes shone even brighter than you could imagine. “Klee and Dodoco want to play with you, Miss!”

           “I appreciate the thought but sadly I need to get going and reunite with my partner…”

           You turned your head, however, seeing the mass flock of Mondstadians celebrating and no signs of them dissipating was hard for you to find where Venti was. 

           I might get myself lost if I go there!!

           You internally cried. 

           “However, I don’t know the routes of this city…” you mumbled. 

           “In that case, would you like to tag along with us? We might cross paths with that partner of yours you have mentioned.” Albedo suggested. 

           “I would love to.” You nodded happily. “I’m [Name] by the way.” You held out your hand to him and the man was quick to grasp your palm into his own. Opening his mouth, he uttered his name, finally getting to socialize with someone else other than Venti.

           “Albedo, the chief alchemist working for the Knights of Favonius. It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Name].”

—

           You’ve been walking along the streets together with Klee and Albedo. Yet all this traversing in order to search for Venti was futile… 

           Ludi Harpastum is one of the most anticipated annual events the nation celebrates, as the little elf child has said to you, so searching for him through these crowded areas made it harder for you to squeeze through. Klee noticed how dejected you were and cheered you up by showing you her beloved friend, Dodoco.

           “Hee hee! It's me, Dodoco!" Klee voiced out for her friend and began to spin it around with her and yelped cheerfully. 

           "Dodoco’s going to be the mascot character at Ludi Harpastum this year! I'll be wearing the dress Mommy bought for me! Won't that be fun?" Klee explained to you about her friendship with Dodoco while you were both walking around the area, her small hand in yours so she wouldn’t get lost. 

           Klee’s so energetic, her bright smile is so contagious, and there's no doubt she has a lot of friends to play with. Albedo included.

           “For us freedom-loving bards, it is our journey and not our destination we must enjoy.” Under the spotlights, upon that stage, you spotted a man donned in Mondstadt’s traditional outfit with a lyre in his hand. His eyes glinted, grinning at his audience as all eyes were on him and the stage. “At least, that is what I believed for many decades before arriving in Mondstadt.”

           You turned to Klee and saw her eyes sparkle in wonder and awe at the stage play being held in the plaza. 

           “What perfect timing. Fortunately, we managed to get here on time to watch the play.” Albedo joined in, standing beside you. His eyes were focused on the actors, intrigued with his arms crossed. 

           “Play?” You questioned, tilting your head.

           “It’s an annual event during the Ludi Harpastum Festival where it depicts the beginning and history of the said event. If I’m not mistaken this one is called "The Wandering Bard”.” He explained to you.

           Your attention returned to the big stage. In the theater, you felt the brain of the screenwriter reaching out to the minds of the audience. 

           “One reason I've decided to stay is that I found Mondstadt to be perfectly faithful to its depiction by Alan the Bard, whose poetry inspires me the most. Its sweet and mysterious secrets are hidden in unknown spots, silently yearning to be discovered. However, if I'm truly honest, my stay in Mondstadt has been extended because of Ludi Harpastum, an annual festival in the city. What a delight! How could I miss out on such an occasion?”

           The actor’s words and emotions are asking questions in the way dreams do, always seeking a pathway to greater love and societal peace. 

           “I once heard a drunk Mondstadt merchant say that when Mondstadt was still but a small village, it was graced by the feather of a free bird, dropped by the beloved Anemo Archon. It was that feather that allowed Mondstadt to become the city it is today.” The setting changed, changing the scene to a mock copy of the plaza with a mimic of the statue situated far from his right.

           “Ever since, a commemoration has taken place every year to thank the Anemo Archon for his blessing. Over time, this commemoration grew to be the huge festival that we all know as Ludi Harpastum. Nowadays, it is fifteen days full of exquisite wine, poetry, music, flowers, and rituals. At this time of the year, the whole city bursts with joy and freedom.”

           It’s just as Venti has said to you, a fifteen-day event full of wine, artistry, and games for everyone to enjoy. Still, you are curious how this event began. You let all your attention to the stage right in front of you, blocking the loud noises of the crowds and cheers of the drunkards from the taverns, and let your eyes and ears consume every word spewed from the actors’ lips.

           “I'm sure that folks nowadays have forgotten about the original sacred aspect of Ludi Harpastum and might see it as a mere succession of lively events, no different from any ordinary festival. However, to us bards with a keen eye for detail, Ludi Harpastum is definitely the best festival in the mystical land of Teyvat. Even an outsider to Mondstadt like me can enjoy the feelings of freedom and independence that are unique to this city in just a short amount of time.”

           “But the true essence of the festival is not only how good the wine is or how beautiful the scenery is. That would be nothing compared to what Ludi Harpastum symbolizes to the people. Behind this joyous occasion hides a dark past even before Vennesa, the Lionfang Knight, founded the Knights of Favonius and became the Grand Master."

           From the other side of the street, Paimon and Aether were walking side-by-side with the little fairy carrying a load of street snacks. Taking a bite of her chicken-mushroom skewer, she gobbled it up whilst Aether squinted his eyes to see a crowd of people gathering. He can see colorful lights from afar which piqued his interest.

           “What’s going on over there?” He mumbled. Paimon hummed and raised an eyebrow not knowing what he meant, but quickly guessed it when she followed where he was looking. Gulping her food, which she could come back to later on, she floated over his head and expressed her amazement.

           “Oooh! That’s the play everyone was anticipating!”

           “Ludi Harpastum play? Isn't it too early for it?"

           “Well, it's happening now!" She exclaimed excitedly. “I didn’t realize it’s already nighttime and it had started already.”

           “Let us go then.”

           Aether and Paimon ran toward the plaza, passing by a group who were waving their hands and applauding the play. Just as they reached the theater, the actors were already starting to perform. 

             During that time, the aristocracy that ruled Mondstadt grew corrupt and abused their power. Gallant dresses and fancy suits sparkled, there’s no doubt only the high status of certain families are allowed to wear dreamy and expensive outfits. They walked side by side with their partners and one woman opened her fan and stared daggers at the commoners.

           Under their reign, Ludi Harpastum was transformed into an event enjoyed only by the wealthy elites. The head of the Lawrence Clan, Lord Lawrence, stepped forward and his long tail suit flapped along his strides as he settled both of his hands on his cane. 

           The commoners shivered at his presence while a few murmured under their breaths, whispering repulsive rumors to one another. But it ceased immediately when the Lord glowered at those pitiful peasants below him.

             It amazes you that such simple actions with no words can affect the atmosphere of the play. He dominates the other actors as if he’s asserting dominance. Well, it is his role to play as the head of that clan.

             The foremost clan among the aristocracy cared not for the enjoyment of the people and canceled all the games, leaving only the climax of the Harpastum. The crowd jeered, anger and bitterness were drawn all over their faces. From their reactions themselves, there is no doubt something controversial must have happened in the Lawrence clan.

           A political dispute? Tyranny? Corruption? You shall know soon enough.

           “However, only Lord Lawrence’s son, Barca Lawrence, had the right to touch that harpastum. Anyone else who dared even approach the ball would immediately face torture.” 

           On the young Lord’s hand was a colorful ball, perhaps the harpastum. Several commoners chased after Barca. They were after the ball than the aristocrat as if they were all desperate to take hold of it, but Barca drew his sword out and swung his weapon, and one by one they all fell down to their deaths. 

           “Tsk tsk tsk. You should know your place, plebeians. A mere touch on my Harpastum, you’ll be met by my sword’s blade.”

           The commoners who had been chasing after the ball scattered in fear upon seeing this display. On top of that, they knew he was an aristocrat; they were afraid to get close enough to him so the ball could roll away from them. 

           They were afraid the poor maiden would suffer and live a misfortune once the disgusting young lord brought her to his sick abode.

             You sneaked a glance at Klee and sensed she was trembling. Out of worry, you held her hand and gently stroked the back of the gloved hand back and forth to calm her. The little girl was taken aback by your small but gentle gesture, but a smile instantly replaced her previous fear. You whispered and reassured her that everything would be alright. 

           For a play like this, it might be too scary for young audiences like Klee. Maybe it’s best to go somewhere else…

             But upon encountering Vennessa the Warrior, Young Lord Barca quivered in fear. Her intimidating figure and her sheer death glare alone were enough for the aristocrat to surrender. But succumbing to her didn’t last long as the warrior had dearly hoped so because later that evening the young Lord returned. With a complacent grin, he spoke:

           “Your clan now belongs to the House of Lawrence! Those who dare defy the clan shall be slaughtered by none other than Ursa the Drake! If you wish to be free, then fight the dragon and the shackles will no longer restrain your humanity.”

           The announcement caused an uproar in the nation. 

           “This is unfair!”

           “You heinous murderers!”

           “You aristocrats are all pathetic!”

           “Give them a fair fight!”

           Despite the public’s holler of protest at his threat, his sadistic grin never faltered. The Lawrence family enjoyed every single second of the show. Their grins grew wider, baring their teeth and cheeks turning red. Their eyes shone with pure ferocious joy and cruelty, cackling loudly when Lord Lawrence released the wyvern from its cage and stormed Vennessa’s people. 

           His actions were met with howls of anguish and curses, but they soon came to realize that this was just another one of their cruel games. 

           Vennessa’s wrath burned brighter, her fiery rage igniting as she fought all monsters, slashing their bodies. She would take any power she could to slay the beast without mercy or hesitation. Though her strength was beyond compare, her opponents remained undeterred. They continued to mock her, even taunting her by killing her clan before her eyes.

           The remaining members of Vennessa's clan became desperate. All hope faded as they saw the battle devolve into a massacre. Her burning heart was fuelled by none other than anger and animosity. She pierced her sword into those monsters, slashing and twisting their bodies until they were burned to ashes. No matter how many enemies she killed, her rage only intensified.

           “I'm not going to let you get away with this!"

           Murderously foul glare was shooted at the tyrannical family but right then and there, Ursa the Drake stepped into the arena. Its giant and imperial figure may be intimidating but the gladiator never cowered. The dragon took a few steps towards Venessa and gazed at the young woman with its glowing yellow eyes. It roared, revealing its sharp fangs and serrated claws.

           Before Vennessa could jump in to protect her tribe from the draconic creature, teal feathers fluttered down from the sky and landed on her head. Instantly, a dazzling blue light filled the arena. Suddenly, it felt like time slowed down.

           The dragon was frozen in place and all its movements ceased as if time itself had come to a halt. Descending from the heavens came an angelic figure.

           "The hour is nigh! Children under the desolate sky, let the winds be your guide!"

           The angel appeared beside the dragon, dressed in white and adorned with a lyre. His bright, radiant wings flapped around his body as he descended, hovering over the arena. It was an unbelievable sight and a historical moment for the people of Mondstadt. Right before their very eyes was none other than the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, giving his people the freedom they sought and releasing them from the shackles of the Lawrence clan.

             "Barbatos...?"

           The familiar name that left your lips rendered you speechless. 

            “I wonder who’s this Anemo Archon the little girl mentioned… just how long have I been asleep?” You muttered to yourself.

           “The important thing to remember is he’s a kind-hearted soul. He saved his people many times.”

             Ah…

           You looked back up to the stage and saw the actors prepare for the curtain call.

           That’s right. Venti said that to me…

           Confusion washed over you like a tempest, leaving you at a loss for words. Barbatos, now a god, beheld you with a solemn feeling. It's no wonder why you rarely see him. He knew that your connection, once simple and pure, had shifted in the wake of his ascension.

           Although the nightly wind was tender, wrapping you in an ethereal embrace, it felt suffocating. Shouldn't you be happy your little friend led the people to the path of happiness and freedom you desired from the very beginning? 

           As you gazed up at the stage play that was still ongoing, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. Awe mingled with a hint of melancholy, for you knew that your bond had undergone a profound transformation. Yet, beneath it all, you seek to find solace, come to reach a transcending mortal understanding, but it was not there.

           You feel heavy. Your head hurts, perhaps from all the noise and commotion of the crowd. You have to get out of here fast before something awful happens. Noticing that the curtain to the performance has been drawn, you push your way past the throng of people, fleeing the scene.

           It’s hard to swallow and digest the sudden information. Are things really back to normal?

           I need to ask Venti…

           You didn't mean to leave Albedo and Klee behind, but perhaps the strong and overwhelming emotion swirling inside you clouded your judgment. It wasn't intentional. After all, this was the first time you've visited the city since returning from your old city. It's not as if you planned to go anywhere else.

           On the spur of a moment, your heart leaped when someone grabbed hold of your hand. You felt a jolt of surprise as you turned around to see who it was.

           "Venti…?"

           Not the Venti you know. This man is different— and a familiar one at that. Aether looked at you intently, his gaze full of concern. 

           "Are you alright?” He asked. You found yourself nodding.

           "It's good to see you again." Paimon, on the other hand, floated over you and spun around dancing happily. "We've been looking all over for you! We actually want to give you something." She eyed her companion, cueing him to hand the item to you.

           Aether gently cradled a small, intricately designed glass pendant in his hands, its delicate beauty gleaming under the soft glow of the street lamps. The pendant, once lost in the chaos of their adventures, had been meticulously repaired and restored.

           As they stood before you, their eyes filled with warmth and compassion, he extended his hand, offering the pendant with care. Its transparent surface shimmered, capturing fragments of light as if holding the essence of countless memories within its intricate contours.

           Paimon fluttered around excitedly, her voice bubbling with joy as she shared the tale of their arduous quest to retrieve the pendant. She spoke of their unwavering determination, braving treacherous landscapes and formidable foes, all driven by their steadfast commitment to returning this precious memento to its rightful owner.

           Your eyes widened with disbelief, your fingers trembling as you reached out to reclaim what was once lost. "This is..." Your eyes shimmered. As your hand closed around the pendant, a surge of emotion coursed through you. Memories flooded your mind, intertwined with a renewed sense of hope and gratitude.

           "We found your pendant and had someone we know fix it!" Paimon beamed, while Aether looked relieved. 

           The two of them were so enthusiastic, you couldn't help but smile. With tear-filled eyes and a grateful smile, you locked gazes with them, feeling an unspoken bond forged through shared experiences. At that moment, the fixed glass pendant became more than a mere trinket; it became a symbol of resilience, friendship, and the unwavering support that had carried you through the darkest of times.

           Embracing the pendant, you knew that its return signified not only the restoration of a cherished possession but also the affirmation that you were never alone in your journey. Aether and Paimon, guardians of your heart, had returned what was lost, mending more than just a shattered pendant, but the fragments of your spirit as well.

           "Thank you both!" You bowed and embraced them tightly, thankful for their kindness and devotion. "Hehe, we're happy to help you anytime, [Name]!" Paimon's chest puffed out, her hands over her hips while a smug smile donned her face.

           Aether looked at you, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity and compassion. "May I ask why this glass pendant is so important to you?" he inquired softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth.

           Your gaze shifted to the pendant, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched upon its surface. You took a deep breath, summoning the strength to share your tale. 

      "This pendant," you began, your voice laced with bittersweet nostalgia, "is my memento of a time when my mother and father were still with me before the war tore our family apart."

           Aether listened attentively, his heart heavy with empathy. He understood the profound significance of cherished memories, especially those that symbolized moments of love and togetherness. 

           "I'm truly sorry for what you've been through," he whispered, his voice tinged with compassion.

           Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering like the pendant itself. "When I hold this glass pendant," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion, "I can still feel their presence. It reminds me of the laughter, the warmth, and the love we shared as a family. It's a connection to a time that feels so distant now."

           The traveler nodded, a tender understanding reflecting in his eyes. "Memories hold great power," he said gently. "They remind us of who we are, where we come from, and the love that has shaped us. The pendant serves as a beautiful vessel for those precious memories, keeping them close to your heart."

           A moment of silence enveloped them, as the weight of their shared experiences lingered in the air. Aether's presence, unwavering and supportive, allowed you to feel heard and understood.

           "I believe," Aether finally spoke, his voice steady yet filled with empathy, "that the love and strength that your parents bestowed upon you will guide you through even the darkest of times. The pendant serves as a symbol of that love, reminding you that they are always with you, even if not physically present."

           Your tears flowed freely now, mingling with a bittersweet smile. You embraced the pendant tightly, finding solace in its delicate presence. 

           "Thank you," you whispered, your voice quivering. "Thank you for understanding, for helping me remember the love that still surrounds me."

           He reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, offering silent support. In that shared moment, they found solace in the power of memories, the bond of compassion, and the unbreakable spirit that can emerge from even the darkest of pasts.

           “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” Wiping the tears away, you turned away from them to hide the endless stream of your tears. It’s embarrassing to show them a vulnerable sight of you. 

           “Ludi Harpastum is really interesting…” Under the moonlight glow, the soft radiance of your figure left them breathless. Slender fingers caressed the floral bracelet and Aether and Paimon stood silent. “I never expected Barbatos to be the current Anemo Archon after the downfall of my father.” Such a solemn voice made the air bitter. 

           “Huh? I thought you already knew that.” Paimon tilted her head to the side, her arms behind her as she glanced at you caressing and clutching the ornament. Although you seem happy, she can’t help but feel there’s something troubling you. Her mouth parted slightly before letting out an annoyed huff and did her signature stomping.

           “Did Venti not tell you about this before?”

           An awkward and weak chuckle slipped from your pink lips just as you scratched your cheek with your dainty finger and glanced away from shame. “Not really… I only saw Barbatos once when Venti was away from the ruins.”

           Rather than shame, an indescribable emotion was saturating over your chest. Perhaps the idea of not being with your little wisp friend has gotten you a little emotional. Even if Venti is always there by your side, it feels incomplete— a puzzle piece that has suddenly gone missing from the complete image.

           Aether and Paimon stood before you, their usual playful banter replaced with an uncharacteristic silence. Something weighed heavily upon their hearts, causing a nervous hesitation in their voices. They exchanged glances, their eyes filled with a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

           Aether took a deep breath, steeling himself against the rising tide of anxiety. The truth he held threatened to unravel the fragile peace that enveloped your world. Yet, deep down, he knew that concealing it would only prolong the inevitable. With a determined resolve, he mustered the courage to speak the unspeakable.

           "Listen, there's something we need to tell you," Aether began, his voice tremulous yet resolute. Paimon, usually quick with words, remained uncharacteristically quiet, her eyes fixed upon you with a blend of worry and compassion.

           You looked at them, your gaze brimming with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. You sensed the gravity of their words, the unspoken weight that hung in the air. Aether struggled to find the right words, his voice faltering momentarily.

           "It's about the current Anemo Archon," Aether finally revealed, his voice tinged with unease. "The truth is... the current Anemo Archon is someone you know very well."

           Silence engulfed them, the weight of Aether's words settling like a fog around them. Your eyes widened, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. They knew, deep down, that this revelation would alter the course of your understanding of the world you thought you knew.

           Aether's nerves threatened to overwhelm him, yet he pushed aside his doubts, his fears, for the sake of honesty. 

           "The current Anemo Archon is—” 

           In the hushed embrace of the night, a deafening silence hung heavy in the air, suffocating your senses. The world seemed to stand still as if holding its breath, while the piercing blasts of fireworks shattered the fragile stillness. Each explosion reverberated through your being, mirroring the tempestuous storm brewing within your heart.

           Aether's words, like a blade to your soul, shattered the fragile sanctuary of your understanding. The truth, once hidden in the shadows, had been laid bare before you, leaving you speechless, your mind consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. Shock rippled through your veins, intertwining with a sense of betrayal that gnawed at the depths of your being.

           As the words sank deeper into your consciousness, a dark cloud descended upon your world. The bond you had shared with Venti, once an ethereal connection woven with trust and shared secrets, now felt frayed and tattered. 

           It was as if a string had snapped within you, severing the fragile bond and time you had spent with him. A friend and a loving partner you thought he was from the very beginning when you opened your eyes from your depths of endless slumber. 

           Your heart echoed with the weight of centuries, a crushing burden that threatened to drown you in despair. How could you reconcile with your lover you had revered with the shattered image before you? The pain of realization engulfed you, engulfed their once-unbreakable bond, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

           Your breath came in ragged gasps, your trembling fingers reaching for the pendant that had once been a symbol of solace and belonging. Now, it felt heavy and cold against your chest, a painful reminder of the shattered illusions you had held dear. The tears welled up in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as the weight of your emotions became too much to bear.

           You stood there, your chest ablaze with a searing pain that seemed to radiate from within. It was as if an invisible fire had ignited, devouring you from the inside out. Each breath you took was a struggle, your lungs constricted by an unseen weight, while your heart felt as if it were being pulled by strings, tugged in opposite directions.

           In the midst of your anguish, Venti, the beloved bard, finally emerged onto the scene, his face etched with a mixture of exhaustion and desperation. Panting heavily, he had searched tirelessly for you, his soul aching with an overwhelming sense of loss and longing. But when his eyes fell upon you, a shockwave of despair surged through him.

           His heart dropped, his once vibrant spirit dampened by the sight before him. There you stood, the girl he had watched over and cared for, now accompanied by Aether. 

           The bond he had forged, the connection he had painstakingly nurtured, lay shattered at his feet. His voice caught in his throat, his breath shallow, as a deep sense of misery enveloped him.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute

[ellitx]

Just A Little Bit | Heizou x Reader

You’re in a hurry for brunch with your friend but your husband decided to make you stay a bit longer with him. 

my second heizou bday fic. i know im late but whatever. i crave for domestic husband heizou stories 

warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, nsfw content

word count: 5.9k

Vigorously blinking once then twice, the sleep was shaken loose from your eyelashes in fine, golden specks of dust. Shapes before you were still molten into a hazy blur, emphasized by fulgent beams of Sunday morning light that flooded through the bathroom door and propped open halfway.

It's as though your brain had woken up shortly before your vision got the chance to and now it had some catching up to do. Your silhouette was presented to you— weary and lightly slouched in the mirror, circling a toothbrush within your mouth at a reluctant pace.

Shrouded in post-sleep delirium, you realize you've forgotten to wet it before you squeezed the toothpaste upon it, where you're reminded by the dryness of the sharper-than-usual mint taste on your tongue.

Without paying much mind to it, you exude a groan through gritted teeth, proceeding to brush them.

Mentally, you browbeat yourself for having gotten up this early on a damned Sunday, let alone freed yourself from your sleeping husband’s firm, love-infused grasp you found yourself encased in upon waking up. However, to your own demise, you almost forgot the plans you had made for this day.

And judging by the claim of the clock adorning the wall that you checked mere minutes prior, you were dealing with the better part of an hour to get ready in order to make it there in time. Considering your drowsy composition, you would have to make each minute count.

Once your surroundings swim into view more or less clearly, you're suddenly taken aback by the state you're in. A succession of marks bloomed upon the side of your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and disappearing beneath the crisp white cotton of one of Heizou’s button-ups you're enveloped in.

Each one of them deviated from the rest in color ever so slightly, gleaming at you in different shades of dark purples and reds.

You cannot deny your awe. It doesn't look bad per se, but the hints of a possible attack having gone down are there. Though there wasn't one; not in a way one would think, anyway.

Whenever frustration has built up within Heizou to a point that diminished him to nothing but a huffing, grumbling mess when he’s at a dead end of finding clues, he would almost become primal in nature. You, of course, secretly wallowed in these particular occasions— the roughness of his touch and pace, the hoarseness of his voice drilling into your ear, the sharpness of his teeth each time they'd sink into your flesh.

Catching yourself dwindling away into a lustful daydream, you forced your thighs together and squirmed restlessly, meaning to ease the tension that has flourished between them. This action forced you to focus upon the knife-like soreness tugging at your lower abdomen, left there the night before— also by your husband, also feverishly, also in an act of passion.

You want to be sort of mad at him, but it's difficult to be. Instead of falling victim to displeasure, your stomach flutters again.

Fuck, you're done for.

Clearing your mind— and the least attempting to— you bend towards the sink and spit out the toothpaste, consecutively rinsing your mouth with a cup of water. You're stirred to alertness by the brisk sound of the bathroom door clicking shut to your left, which prompted you that you're no longer alone here.

Originating from the same direction, faint footsteps crept up to your side. Having splashed a handful of frigid water upon your face, you surged back into the air. To nobody's surprise, Heizou has settled behind you, close enough for his body heat to merge with yours being palpable, but not close enough to make actual physical contact.

He's donned nothing but his trousers, which seemed to be clinging onto his hips for dear life. Not only were you able to follow his happy trail with your eyes, but almost caught a glimpse of the base of his shaft. The outline of which, just by the way, is more than emphasized to you on behalf of the drab fabric. You gulped, the minty freshness on your palate inducing a numbing tremor.

Heizou’s forlorn eyes took a clumsy, yet amiable guess and plateau upon where he assumed your face was, beaming widely. That dark maroon hair of his was all sorts of tousled, sticking out in ten different directions and all four cardinal points.

You were sure he followed your heartbeat here and was currently stalling so as to make use of the silence in order to register its spike, justified by his sudden appearance. It flattered him thus he delights in a hearty chortle.

“Good morning,” you crooned, cutting his glory short. Intent on continuing to dream for at least a little while longer, you studied his charming features in the mirror.

“Morning, sweet,” Heizou retorted through a smile, using his voice for the first time this morning, which was prompted to you by the profound rasp of it that tugged at your heartstrings in an alluring fashion.

He finally made the decision to grasp onto you, his palms wandering beneath the cotton of his shirt that you're wearing, taking hold of your bare hips beneath it. His fingertips pranced upon your skin, and he allowed your bodies to collide by pushing up on you from behind. This was when his arms wholly twined around your figure, pulling you into the soft curve of his slightly bent frame.

His torso was firm and placid against your back, and you were debating whether or not to falter in his grip. He's so pleasantly warm, and though you've only left your shared bed a few minutes ago, you've already grown to miss that signature fervor of his that you know to be the most comforting quality on earth.

Once you shut your eyes, if only for a fraction of a second, it's as though you're still entangled in him, obscured by silk sheets, drifting in and out of sleep as one tends to on a lazy day.

Soon enough, you snapped out of it by forcing your eyes open and repeatedly batting your eyelashes— Heizou heard it, or at least that's what the slight twitch of his head told you.

The reason was simple: You have matters to attend to.

Reaching for a scrub on the right-hand side of the sink, you grabbed the tub and screwed it open. Your hypersensitive husband lightly hummed at the sudden whiff of pomegranate it exuded, theatrically exhaling and thus fanning his lukewarm breath over the back of your head. He then freed one of his hands from around you, using it to peel back the neat collar of the button-up you're wearing, attaching his hot lips to the nape of your neck.

Heizou’s palm consequently snaked underneath your breasts, though loosely, applying the slightest bit of pressure that was nevertheless enough to send your mind down a frenetic spiral.

In contrast with the languid kisses placed upon the back of your neck, he sent sensations tumbling down your back that provoked your nipples to stiffen in an instant and a faint yelp to tear free from your depths.

In response, he merely smirked against your skin, pressing more wet kisses upon it. As though on command, you slanted your head to the side, firmly believing the motion will enhance the sensations you're granted.

Your perception might be manipulated by the placebo effect, but for all you know, it's working just fine. Heizou proceeded to slowly pull away, abandoning the spot upon the nape of your neck that's practically aching for attention now; fluttering and tingling from the ticklish play of your husband’s breath.

Soon, he proceeded to sweep your hair out of the way from the crook of your neck, letting it cascade down your spine. There's care obscured in his motions that you've never encountered with anyone before him, and it left you breathless.

“Why're you up so early, hm?” he questioned in a gravelly tone, and you're suddenly swallowed by the tart wave of regret.

You know you can never get away with fleeing him or his bed, nor is he capable of sleeping well without you, anyway, prone to waking up with the merest stir you caused. He deserved that rest you cheated him out of— with all the work he's been taking on lately, let alone the nightly endeavors he partakes in every now and again, sleep should be his top priority.

Guilt has nagged away at your intestines. You almost find yourself apologizing, but then Heizou lodged his face in the space he just cleared for himself and the steady contact his breath made with your sensitive skin sent an icy shiver racing down your frame; it's refreshing, though frustrating.

If he continues like this, you'll not only be late but exhausted and possibly more marked-up than you already are. Had the situation been different, you wouldn't catch yourself complaining in a million years, but you've been putting off meetings with Sango for as long as you can remember— with half of the excuses to be traced back to Heizou— and don't want to leave her hanging this time around.

Thus, you ignored your husband’s affection and the numbing effect it has on your mind as you dipped your fingers into the scrub and scooped some of it out.

“I'm meeting Sango for brunch, remember?”

You reminded him, only to receive an affirmative hum in return. You started working the scrub between your fingers, lending it warmth before you decided to apply it.

“I already feel terrible after blowing her off so many times. I can't possibly be late.”

“Not even a little late?” Heizou mumbled, sucking greedy kisses onto your neck. His lips dallied along your heated flesh, and every now and again, he flashed his tongue to slide it over the outlines of the marks he's given you last night.

He knew exactly where they are too— the tease he is— it must be the burst of your system and the blood that drained away from them he was smelling. You cannot help but lean into him— it's an instinctive reaction you fail to prevent.

Your body was guilty of naturally responding to his touch, which your brain sheepishly convicted.

“A little bit— just for me?”

His right hand released your breast then it slid downward. It proceeded to loom around the center of your chest, coming to a halt just a breath of a touch over your nipples, where he traced the maroon stains littering the skin stretched over your clavicles.

His calloused thumb caressed the surface, and in combination with the barely noticeable sting of the mark, you're left to endure pleasure so bittersweet it caused your insides to churn.

“Heizou—!”

You choked out, caging a moan that was about to erupt within your mouth. He's kissing your neck in a way that reminds you of all similarly sensual encounters you've shared with him, which, in its turn, caused ardent arousal to pool between your legs.

Since Heizou sniffed away at the air a little more forcefully than normal, you assumed he must've noticed. Having thrown a glance at the mirror, you find it harder and harder to contain yourself. The sight of you captured in his arms, his entire attention focused on your body and your body alone, your eyes hooded and skin ablaze, is nothing short of debaucherous.

Your frame fitted into his so perfectly, the back of your thigh translating the luscious feeling of him gradually hardening against you. His breath was less controlled now, and you delighted in his agitation for a split second. However, you're not one to talk. You're practically melting into his embrace.

“I can taste you off the air, [Name],” he groaned in between planting sloppy kisses upon your neck. His tone is dark, though breathy.

“My wife’s so sweet, so delicious. Can't I make you feel good? Can't I please you, sweetheart? You took me so well last night, I have to express my gratitude.” You whimpered at the sole obscenity of his words, your stomach wringing and twisting at the spilled praise.

He's irresistible, and fuck, you don't want to dismiss the pleasure you know he can bestow upon you. Not when he's offering it to you so gallantly.

With your judgment clouded and all senses heightened, you gasped.

“Hmn! J-just a little bit…”

You failed to recognize where the desperate aspect of your response finds its origin, but you cannot take it back now. Heizou’s lips stretched into a grin against your flesh, and he shifted them to gently nip at your jawline.

“That's it, darling,” he uttered. His left hand gifted your hip an approving squeeze and his voice grazed your ear, coating it in a layer of calidity.

“I'll be quick, I promise. I’ll make my sweet wife cum like I know she loves to.”

The hand that was teasing your sensitive nipple and circling the marks bedecking your chest gradually drifted downward. His fingertips scattered bursts of fervor over your skin, and you stertorously watched the coarse scenario unfold before you in the mirror.

It's a leg-trembling sight, and Heizou knows you're delighting in it, which to his surprise, merely stung him with the prick of jealousy.

The shirt you're wearing is only buttoned halfway, wherefore it peels aside further than would be considered modest, revealing the better part of your left breast. His palm captured the tender mound as your breath hitched treacherously, and kneaded it ever so slightly, enough for the heat between your legs to graduate to a fire.

You issued a whine, needy and hoarse, which signaled him to keep going. After all, you're on a schedule here.

His palm wandered lower, sweeping aside the cotton of his shirt, thus revealing the smoky-pink lace of the underwear you slipped into this morning.

At first, he curiously slid his fingertips along the fabric, just to acquaint himself with it. By now, he's learned all of your lingerie by heart, has his preferences set in stone, and this piece happens to be one he's especially fond of. This realization elicits a groan from him, and in no time—whilst his lips are still gently glued to your jawline— his fingers pushed aside the hem and sneak into your panties.

You shuddered, where his free hand stabilized you, and he comfortingly shushed into your ear. That doesn't help with your agitation, whatsoever.

Heizou started off slowly, first sliding his fingers along your slit and coating them in the slick that's gathered there.

“Man alive… so wet for me. Always so good and wet for me,” he mused, more to himself than to you, partaking in a few more gentle caresses along your core. In response to his teasing, you whimpered, bucking your hips towards the hand that was buried in your underwear.

Soon enough, your husband’s joint middle and ring finger grazed your clit, which they consecutively started rubbing. This is where the first proper moan erupted from your mouth, and you reclined into his frame, one hand clutching onto the bathroom counter for support, the other stumbling upon his free hand to settle on. You don't care that your fingertips are stained with scrub— if only, Heizou welcomed the scratchy sensation on his skin.

His fingers kept their pace, nice and quick, causing white-hot pressure to swell in the pit of your stomach, that you know only Heizou and only him can diffuse. You issued successions of mellow moans and dared to glare at the mirror – and fuck, you're in shambles.

Your mouth was pried open, knuckles were tense from grasping whatever was in your reach, flesh was practically scorching hot, and Heizou’s strong and firm arm was twined around you and steadily working your core. His fully hardened cock urged against you from behind, building piquant friction as you rock in his grip.

It's blissful enough to break out crying, you thought until his fingers rearranged and two of them plunged inside you, his thumb taking over the focus on your clit.

“H-Heizou!”

And suddenly, your entire understanding of pleasure is redefined. His digits curled within you, and you're convinced you won't last much longer like this. Your heart is going haywire beyond your ribs, threatening to crack them. It seems to be the only thing Heizou could hear aside from the array of sounds you gifted him, and he's set on nudging you over the edge right here, right now.

“‘m close…” you rasped, though he was already more than aware of the fact. You used the outcry as an excuse to dilute your moans with at least one coherent word— to not seem as frenzied, at least a little sane, maybe.

Heizou’s voice was low and spread heat across the shell of your ear.

“Let go for me, darling.”

His order was one you cannot disobey, and with another “C'mon, give it to me” falling from his lips, your cunt throbbed and spasmed as you came undone at the merciless pumping of his fingers.

Your legs gave out beneath your weight, your figure suddenly too hefty to hold up, and Heizou was forced to bend his knee for stability as you slumped into him. The whines fleeing you echoed across the bathroom walls, and while you reveled in the bliss your orgasm brought on, he led you through it to the best of his ability.

When the pleasure promptly faded, your eyes fluttered open. You're too ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror, anticipating a picture that'll figuratively cripple you more than you already are. Instead, you panted your pent-up agitation out, clawing at the dissolving remnants of your discharge.

Once your heart lulled, Heizou teasingly dragged his fingers out with a delicious smack, bringing them up to his face and placing them into his mouth to suck on. His tongue swirled along each curve to collect all of the slicks he gathered.

This you cannot disregard, marveling at the reflection of him doing it, still folded into his grip. Your stare burned into him, and his flushed face was suddenly adorned with a smirk. The desolate emerald eyes you love so much ghosted over the mirror once more, and the realization that he's at least trying to find you enchanted you.

Your temple was covered by a glistening film of sweat, hair was unkempt and in sure need of getting taken care of soon.

“I need a shower,” you declared, breathless. The reason you voiced your intention was the realization he'll request to stick around for it, and there's nothing you wish for more. After all, there's still time left. You finally allowed yourself to be a little late, however little persuasion it took.

“That can be done,” he responded as he rested his palms upon your hips. This statement of his meant he was joining you— you hear it in the lingering lustful tone and see it in the curve of his lips. He promptly twirled you around to face him, and after a quick peck on the tip of your nose, lifted you onto the bathroom counter.

You shifted around, getting comfortable and propping yourself up by grasping onto the edges with your hands. Your husband knelt before you, clutching onto your heel and lifting one of your legs into the air.

He kissed a long, ardent trail along it, eliciting some needy panting from you until he was greeted by the much softer and more sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. The overwhelming smell of your pooled slick has overtaken his nose entirely, and God, what on Teyvat he wouldn't do to put his mouth on you and nuzzle into your pleading heat right now?

Nevertheless, he suppressed the urge by detaching his lips from your skin and tangling his finger in the lace of your panties. One second later, he's sliding them down your legs. Once you're freed, they're discarded onto the tiled floor. Soon thereafter, he rose back into the air, slotting himself between your legs and starting to glide his hands over the shirt you're wearing.

It's the same one he came home in last night and the very same one he swathed your glistening, sweaty body in once he was done with you. The recollection caused him to clench his jaw, and he could barely conduct his fingers upon the buttons from the balmy arousal blooming within him. The fact he's painfully hard, straining against his trousers, wasn’t helping either.

Once the button-up was undone, Heizou guided it off your shoulders. By doing so, he released a waft of your scent to come flooding his senses – it cost him a mellow groan.

You shed the shirt completely, nipples perked by the cold of your sudden bareness. As you leaned forward and hooked your fingers in the waistband of his trousers, you absent-mindedly captured your lip between your teeth. Once you slid them down his thighs, his hardened cock sprung out, flushed and upright against his toned stomach— veins defined as ever, leaking at the tip, and flushed from all the blood urging it on.

You cannot lie, the sight was an enticing one to have, which is why you leaped from the counter and dropped onto your knees before him, colliding with the fuzzy rug covering the floor.

Before you get the chance to take any action, though, be it by wrapping your hands around him or even opening your mouth, Heizou caught your chin.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. Today's about you. Plus, didn't you say you were in a hurry? We're showering together and have you get you ready, hm?”

Oh, now he's playing that game. Backing out after finally convincing you to give in to him. You want to hate him and you really try to, but fuck, with his cock hard and rouge on eye-level with you, you're fully convinced you could never find yourself hating Shikanoin Heizou.

Annoyed, you surged upward with a small pout; having taken his hand, you led him towards the shower, where you opened the door and tugged him inside after entering yourself. In his turn, your husband switched on the water, and it came splashing down onto the two of you, gradually heating up.

Still, you're fucking aching for him. Despite having come for him just minutes prior. Despite having him all to yourself for years. Despite having plans to attend in less time than you expect. He can't possibly be teasing you this way after igniting your potent flame.

You gently nudged his taller figure against the wall, lacing your fingers through his damp hair and joining your lips. His palms adhered to your waist, pulling you closer. You veered your body against his erection, meaning to wind him up so he yielded to you at last.

He reciprocated by gasping into your mouth, water leaking into the kiss after dribbling down your faces. For a moment, it appeared as though you'd stolen his composure, but he regained it shortly before you could pride yourself on that achievement.

He trudged forth and pinned you against the tiled wall right across from where you had captured him prior. Once again, he nipped at the skin of your neck, though more vigorously, and this time around introduced his teeth. His lascivious biting has punched the remaining air out of your lungs, which you made noticeable by gulping for it.

This is where his hands set off on a roam across your body, exploring every patch as though he's never touched you before, never made you his before, never ruined this perfect skin of yours before.

He tapped his fingers along the curve of your waist, pads prancing upon its damp, balmy surface. Each minuscule collision elicited a hitched breath from you, and you sent your own hands swerving over his lean, though tender-skinned chest.

Heizou, however, changed course and slowly but surely traveled up to cup your breasts. He palmed the tender mounds, digits toying with your hardened nipples captured between them. You whimpered, the sensation penetrating you to your core.

“My wife’s so beautiful,” he uttered into your flesh with a sated groan, gradually directing his hands back down.

“So perfect,” he sighed, exasperated, and added a breathy All mine. Soon enough, his palms glided towards the tenderness of your thighs, where they squeezed and kneaded and massaged them, whilst his mouth mumbled incoherent chants against your skin.

Whatever it was he's crooning, you understand it's nothing short of delirious – in a way that prompted you he's wholeheartedly in love with you. And as his fingers strayed along your figure, you gifted him alluring successions of deep, grateful whimpers.

Heizou has your body memorized – each stretch, each bend, each sweet spot that could send you down a pathos-filled spiral.

Not much later, his lips caught yours, nipping at them like he was starved for your taste. Even you can sense how flustered he's become, how much desperation he's driven by, how badly he's out to please you.

“Archon, you drive me insane...” he hissed into your mouth, the rapid pace of your heart aligning with his husky breathing. You maintained him pressed flush against you by his shoulders with zero intention to ever let go— the effect his previous statement had upon you was colossal; each limb of yours was buzzing with excitement and your pulse was transcending the realm of health. You could die right here, and it wouldn't be a half-bad way to go.

For a little while, you kissed him back. Soon enough, though, it becomes unbearable to tiptoe around the lechery in this manner— thus, you spoke your mind. Or, more accurately, whined your mind.

“Can't you fuck me? Please, Heizou?” The sheer rashness you filled his name with flustered you, and you struggled to comprehend he was capable of turning you into a pleading, begging, whimpering, faltering, pathetic mess. But then again, you're fully used to it.

The groan your husband issued in response was deep and worked-up. He yearned, more than anything, to grab you by your damp hips and slam you down his length at a pace that'll bruise you from the inside, swallow each outcry you give him, and keep it sacred in his lungs. Stimulate you until your hot tears leak into the shower water racing down the curve of your cheek, but he digested that yearning.

Today, he wanted to be gentle with you. He means to worship the body that's offered up to him so generously whenever you unite in acts of intimacy. He wished to deify you— to prove to you how pure of a goddess you truly are to him.

“I'm afraid that if I fuck you,” Heizou let out a stuttered groan, his dick hardening between your thighs. “We won't be leaving this shower until noon.” He panted and you know he's telling you the truth. If this had been going down on any other day, you'd have gladly accepted that offer. “So, no. However...”

He lowered himself upon his knees, snaking his palms around the backsides of your thighs. In no time, he flung your legs over his shoulders with zero difficulty, keeping you pressed against the cool wall and readjusting his position in order to gain better access to your sex.

In response, your hands dug into his burgundy hair, seeking support in this position he placed you in. His fingers sprawled out over your hips for stability, and he aligned his mouth with your sopping, aching cunt.

Wasting no more time, his tongue made electrifying contact with your heat and parted your folds. A yelp slipped from your mouth, and you're overwhelmed by the friction he's spreading across your center. It roused a stirring within the pit of your stomach that you cannot, by any means, allay.

First, he merely glided his tongue along your slit to prep and work you open, yet soon enough, his lips hungrily closed around your sensitive clit. Once he started sucking upon that sensitive bud, you tilted your head back, launching it against the wall and lightly rutting your hips against Heizou’s mouth with all sorts of whines and moans escaping you.

It should be forbidden to feel this fucking good, you pondered since you've come closer to heaven more than you can count with your husband. There was just something about him— something that transcended your ability to comprehend but lured you in magnetically, nonetheless.

His tongue swept and worked your clit like it was the only thing it knows how to do, and you reveled in the sensations branching out throughout your frame. Your eyelids fluttered, your mouth gaped with threads of sighs of pleasure leaking out of it, and your torso and arms erupted in beady goosebumps— even though the water pouring down upon you was a degree shy of scorching.

You're heaving all over and struggling to claw onto the last shreds of sanity you're left with. Heizou withdrew them from you with each forceful flick of his tongue. His mind was dimmed with the taste of you that filled it, gathered in a thick, tangy cloud, causing his hardened cock to give helpless twitches at each moan and spasm you awarded him with.

You're close to the point where you'd offer your life up in exchange for the incoming orgasm, the raging fervor buried within your depths setting your body ablaze. Heizou was more than aware of how close you'd grown to him. Your heart has sold you out to him so brashly, and as your thighs clasped shut around his head with agitated anticipation, he channeled a guttural groan into your heat.

It did you more favors than you expected it to, bliss bursting in the pit of your stomach at once as he continued bobbing his head and simultaneously lapping away at your clit to lead you through the sudden orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, your core pulsating against your husband’s skillful mouth.

He swallowed each throb, each flutter, each thump, and God, does it sate him. If it were up to him, he'd have you coming on his face until the end of time. It could seriously send him over the edge alone— and before he knew it himself, it did.

Once you're clambering down your overwhelming high, he desperately spilled onto his own stomach, siphoning broken-up moans into your heat, his eyes closed taking in every drop of your white fluid.

Your thighs were stiffly clenched as his fingertips twitched upon them with the dawn of his orgasm, nails digging into your sensitive flesh. His chest swelled with force. Words fail to describe the shock you're taken over by, however arousing the situation translated to.

Hands still securely tangled in his hair, you massaged his scalp. “Ohh, Heizou...” you whispered your husband’s name, starstruck.

You're not sure you can come up with a better response to the ongoing, thus you simply marveled at the aroused detective: flushed, exhausted, wallowing in his high whilst still nuzzled against you. Once his orgasm started wearing off, the groaning against your center ceased, but it's nevertheless obvious that he was trying to savor every last bit of bliss he could get before it slipped away from him entirely.

At the same time, you're elevated to a degree of astonishment that robbed you of all ability to respond to the outer world, and at this moment, all you knew was you and him. And the fact he just came from solely eating you out.

In no time, Heizou gently lifted your thighs from his shoulders, setting you down on the wet ground with utmost care. His knees yielded to a crackle as he stood up, pain briskly dashing through his frame. He ignored it.

Instead, he rose to your level, cupped your hot face, and invited you into a soft, loving kiss. Your flavor played on his tongue so fervently, and he shared it with you— an offer you cannot ever refuse. He kissed you deeply, cordially, sweetly.

You’re loved, and what's more, loved by him.

But you're also late. And still need to shower.

Therefore, your palms landed flat upon his chest. You proceeded to gently push him away, and unfortunately break the kiss much to his disappointment.

“Now I really need to get ready.” you panted, a blush playing on your face. Even though Heizou couldn’t see it, he filtered it through your tone. By now, you've already taken hold of your body wash and spurted some of it into your hand.

Once you began spreading it over your glistening skin in languid, thorough motions, he delivered you his usual mischievous expression.

“Need any help with that?” he inquired and who are you to say no?

The next few minutes were spent with Heizou posing somewhat of a help, rendering assistance with washing your body, but also diluting the deed with tender kisses and not-so-innocent caresses.

You were definitely late to brunch by the time you were out of the shower, and the very moment you haphazardly wrapped a fuzzy mint towel around your figure— which soaked in the soapy droplets of water trickling down your body— you're already racing across the house towards the ringing telephone.

It laid upon the front counter of the kitchen, and as you took the handset, you were faced with an enraged Sango.

Fuck.

You cursed in your mind, preparing for the worse.

Sango’s voice spilled out of the speaker at once, calling out your name with a harsh undertone. You're stung by guilt the second you hear it, toying with excuse variations within your head as her words flew on in that grainy fashion everyone's familiar with.

“[Name], where are you? Look if anything happened, emergency or not, you have to call me immediately. I’m worried sick if something might have happened to you! You know what, I should drop by your house.”

“W-wait no! I’m fine really! I’m going to be a bit late so you don’t have to come here.” You assured, but Sango wasn’t taking any of it.

“Look, if Shikanoin— er, Heizou’s doing horrible things to you, I won’t let him get away with it! He’s—“

The call was cut off and you felt a presence ghosting behind you, and it didn’t take you too long to notice the handheld in your palm had disappeared. Once it came to a conclusion, you spun around, only to perceive him standing before you, a towel loosely tied around his hips and wet strips of hair dropping into his beautiful face.

What's more: Your husband was taking your call with a smirk on his face.

“Mrs. Shikanoin is unable to attend your brunch today. Hm? She’s sick, that's why she woke up late.” He glanced at you and seeing your disbelief reaction was enough to gauge out a chuckle from him. “Now now, I’m being a caring husband, that's all. I don’t want to see my wife pass out and get hurt when she’s out sick.”

He felt no remorse at all. That smirk was enough to say everything. The cocky, rapacious asshole Heizou sometimes is...

Heizou ended the call and the termination of plans with someone you care about pained you. You don’t know how you would face Sango and explain everything to her.

“Well, then,” your husband dragged the words out with mischief smoldering in his voice, “guess you're all mine for today, hm?”

[ellitx]

Chapter 18: The Veil of Veracity

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 8.3k

           Mondstadt's Ludi Harpastum festival was a vibrant explosion of sights, sounds, and exhilarating energy that reverberated through the city. A symphony of jubilant voices filled the air, mingling with the exuberant melodies of harps and flutes, as people flooded the streets, clad in colorful costumes and adorned with intricate masks.

           The bustling atmosphere was alive with laughter and cheer, as children ran through the streets, their gleeful shouts intermingling with the lively chatter of adults. The clinking of glasses and the aromatic scent of delicacies wafted from the numerous food stalls, enticing passersby to indulge in the festive culinary delights.

           Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, depicting fantastical creatures and legendary heroes, while vibrant confetti floated through the air like tiny bursts of joy. The sound of drums reverberated, their rhythmic beats pulsating through the crowd, urging everyone to join in the revelry.

           Amidst the lively chaos, Aether stood in a quiet corner, his gaze fixed on the girl before him. His thoughts swirled like a tempest, torn between the desire to protect you and the burden of the truth he carried about the bard. As the cacophony of celebration washed over him, he contemplated the weight of his decision.

           The vibrant noise of the festival seemed to amplify the turmoil within Aether's heart as if the very essence of the city urged him to break the silence and reveal the truth. The cheerful laughter and joyous melodies became a poignant backdrop to his internal struggle.

           With each passing moment, the festive ambiance tugged at his resolve, as if urging him to seize the moment and confide in you. But doubt lingered, intertwining with his hesitation. Would the revelation shatter the fragile bond they shared, much like the glass pendant that you held so dear?

           As fireworks exploded in a symphony of colors overhead, illuminating the night sky with their radiant brilliance, Aether took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. The time has come to bridge the gap between truth and your perception of the lover you care for.

           Amidst the swirling chaos of the festival, Aether approached you, his voice steady but laced with trepidation. As the joyful celebration carried on around them, he spoke, his words blending with the festive commotion, hoping that the cacophony of the Ludi Harpastum would soften the impact of his revelation.

           And so, in the midst of the pulsating energy and boisterous merriment, Aether took a step closer to you, his heart aching with the weight of the truth he was about to unveil. At that moment, he realized that the festival's noisy revelry mirrored the tumultuous storm brewing within their hearts, their destinies on the precipice of change.

           “The current Anemo Archon is Venti.”

           Finally, he veiled the truth to you. Yet something was off, he felt like he stopped breathing all of a sudden and the air is thick it’s hard to breathe properly. Standing still, you were dumbfounded. Paimon and Aether knew well enough you were bewildered.

           You opened your mouth before closing it again. Once again, you open, trying to utter a single sound and word to address the current topic he began. “Wh-what do you mean? I thought it’s Barbatos?”

           “He is the Anemo Archon.” Paimon clarified. “It’s just… they…” The fairy fumbled on her words, looking at you and then avoiding your eyes as if she was in trouble, preparing to be scolded. Aether’s heart was racing, his head was throbbing, and so was his lips shaking.

           He took a deep breath and looked at you in the eyes, stern and resolute. “They share the same identity. Venti... he is Barbatos." Aether revealed, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

           The world around you seemed to blur, the vibrant colors of the festival fading into a haze of confusion and disbelief. It felt as if time itself had slowed down, each passing second stretching into eternity as you tried to process the truth that had been veiled from you.

           “How can you be so sure? I’ve known them for a long time! It’s impossible—“

           “Venti told us!” Aether’s loud voice had you shrinking in fear.

           “He… he told us his story when he was a wisp. He told us about you and his friend. Venti, or rather Barbatos, took the form of his friend. That friend… he died during the war with Decarabian…” He sighed heavily and furrowed his brows.

           Aether's words crashed into your shattered reality, causing the fragments of your belief to scatter even further. The noise of the festival seemed to fade into the background as his voice echoed in your ears, drowning out all other sounds.

           You desperately searched for any semblance of denial, hoping to grasp onto a shred of the familiar, but Aether's resolute gaze and the weight of his words left little room for doubt. Venti had entrusted them with his secret, revealing the truth behind his dual existence as both the carefree bard and the revered Anemo Archon.

           Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as conflicting emotions surged within you. It was as if a tempest raged within your heart, torn between the memories of the gentle wind spirit who had shared moments of solace with you and the newfound knowledge of the bard and partner you thought he truly was.

           A part of Aether wanted to ask you about your relationship with Venti, but a part of him wanted to stop himself from being intrusive as it’s not his business. Yet he can’t help but feel something was off…

           Your arms limped as if gravity was pulling you to the center of the earth. Everything in you was heavy. Your shoulders, your head, your legs— like a sudden drop of weight crushed your entire entity.

           You managed to find your voice in the back of your throat, but the statement still came out far less assertive than you would’ve liked.

           “That’s… that’s not true…”

           You forced out a laugh. Aether had mixed feelings seeing your strained smile and your furrowed brows after he told you about Venti.

           The look on your face…

           It’s beyond doubt you’re in disbelief and shock. A mix of emotions of shock, betrayal, and a profound sense of loss. Venti, the person you love so dearly, had died?

           The wind spirit who had been your confidant and source of solace was not only the Anemo Archon but also the one who had taken on the guise of the bard you had grown to cherish.

           The revelation struck at the very core of your being, leaving you speechless and utterly bewildered. Your mind struggled to reconcile the image you had held of Venti with the reality presented before you. The bond you thought you shared, the connection that had woven its threads through your soul, now felt like a fragile illusion.

           “That’s not true, Aether… Venti’s…”

           Venti has always been with me.

           But everything Aether said had made sense. Yet a part of you was doubtful of what he had said. How come he knows so much about your past despite only meeting once?

           A battle between trust and lies, a back-and-forth altercation with yourself on who to trust.

           Venti wouldn’t ever do that to you, right…?

           Because you have to know how easy it is to manipulate the truth or make bad decisions based on partial evidence. It’s similar to when Venti twisted his words of keeping you safe from harm during the war. The war he told you that was too “dangerous” for you to take part in.

           But there is more than that going on. Every day when you watched the nation slowly crumble into dust, it was like the tale of the three Moon Sisters.

           What is this? Something feels strange.

           “[Name]…?”

           Aether’s voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts. His gentle golden eyes looked at you with solicitous, attentive concern. “Is something wrong?”

           You nodded, unable to find the words to articulate the whirlwind of emotions that swirled within you. The world around you seemed to spin, the noise of the festival fading into a distant hum as a profound sense of unease settled over your being.

           “Protect her for me.”

           It can’t be…

           “Please do what I can’t.”

           You swear you heard his voice. Lips trembling, you watched in silence as a familiar silhouette was sitting on a patch of flowers, holding his beloved instrument close to him.

           “Thank you for keeping the promise from so long ago.”

           It’s as if he was there. He smiled at you with a bittersweet expression, his ethereal presence radiating a mixture of sorrow and affection. The weight of his words lingered in the air, echoing in your heart.

           “Thank you. The original memory is forgotten by everyone. The original promise…”

           He turned his back on you, not even sparing you a glance. You wanted to call for him but you were stuck in place. The memories began to flood your mind, from the midnight gentle dance to the songs he sang to you.

           “Goodbye.”

           He faded into the distance, leaving you with a profound sense of loss and longing. The echoes of his melodies whispered through the air, a haunting reminder of the connection you once shared, now slipping away like fragments of a forgotten melody.

           As the weight of the truth settled upon you, you felt your heart shatter into a thousand fractured pieces. Waves of overwhelming sorrow crashed over you, threatening to pull you into the depths of despair. It was as if a tempest raged within you, tearing at the delicate threads that had once bound you to Venti.

           With each passing moment, the string of your bond unraveled further, the echoes of your shared memories fading into a distant echo. In the deafening silence, you stood alone, feeling the profound emptiness of a connection severed, your soul aching for the comfort of a love now lost.

           “[Name]? A-are you alright?”

           Paimon’s voice went deaf to you. Heavy tears rolled down your cheek, its trail glistening in the glow of the festival lights. The silence between you and Aether was heavy, punctuated only by the distant sounds of fireworks and the murmur of the crowd. It was as if the world itself held its breath, awaiting your response.

           “I-I’m sorry for crying out of the blue. It’s just…”

           Anguish and confusion intertwined within you, the noise of the festival fading into the background as you grappled with the shattered pieces of your perception. It felt as if the world had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and lost.

           “I parted with someone who’s always been with me. Being together with him, I never thought it’d hurt me so much.” You sobbed.

           It hurts… It hurt you so much to know this. Now at the knowledge that he’s gone, you feel so lost, hurt, betrayed, and even confused.

           First, your father had abandoned you. Though he tried to protect everyone from the outside world, he grew heartless and inhumane. The memory of his tyrannical rule still haunted your dreams, a constant reminder of the love you never received.

           Second, Amos, your mother who had been your guiding light, was taken away by the cruel hand of war. Her unconditional love and warmth had nurtured your spirit, but now you were left with an emptiness that seemed impossible to fill.

           And lastly, Venti, the one who had entered your life like a fleeting melody, had been torn away by the very war that shattered your world. His music and love had resonated with your soul, offering solace and companionship, but now he was gone, leaving behind an unbearable void.

           Aether's expression softened with understanding, his hand reaching out to gently touch your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Paimon, no longer worried about breaking the fragile silence, hovered beside you, her eyes filled with sympathy.

           “Will you ever be able to see him again?”

           In the midst of the festival's jubilant celebration, your heart mourned these three losses, the weight of their absence pressing upon your shoulders. The cacophony of joy and laughter around you felt distant, an echo of a life that no longer held the same meaning.

           “No, I won’t…” Tears streamed down your face, each droplet carrying the weight of your sorrow and loss. Your sobs echoed through the night, a raw expression of the pain etched deep within your heart.

           “But he gave me my freedom. The freedom we always wished for.” You whispered through your tears, your voice filled with a bittersweet mix of gratitude and longing. As the fireworks illuminated the sky in vibrant bursts of color, you clutched onto the glass pendant, your fingers trembling with the memories it held.

           Through your mourning, the betrayal remained. Not from those who left you but from Barbatos. Connecting everything, the revelation struck you like a dagger to the heart, piercing through the remnants of trust and affection you had held for who you thought was Venti.

           Disgust surged within you, your stomach churning with a mix of anger and betrayal. The memories of your interactions, once cherished, now appeared tainted and manipulated, a cruel facade that had preyed upon your vulnerability and love for the deceased friend.

           Every fiber of your being revolted against the deception, leaving you feeling sickened and resentful as if a dark shadow had engulfed the purity of your emotions.

           And then, amidst the chaos of your emotions, the bard in disguise appeared. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide with worry as he assessed the situation. His heart dropped when he saw Aether standing beside you, his presence a stark reminder of the impurity and taint he will leave on what’s his.

           Without a word, Venti rushed forward, his voice filled with urgency. “[Name], I’ve been looking for you. Please don’t leave me like that ever again—”

           The bard stomped, and each step of his sent you to depths of fear you unknowingly got into. Sensing your alarms and mixture of bitterness, he stopped midway when you immediately hid behind Aether and clutched on his back.

           Venti then forced a smile, masking the seething anger and jealousy that churned within him as he watched Aether's close contact with you. It should be him keeping you safe, not this pesky traveler. His eyes betrayed the storm of emotions that raged beneath his serene facade, the smile a fragile veil concealing his inner turmoil.

           “[Name]…? Is something wrong? You don’t have to hide—“

           “Stay away from me,” your voice quivered with a mixture of anger and disgust, your eyes filled with a profound sense of betrayal. The realization that the spirit, the very friend you had cherished, had deceived you by masquerading as the bard you have fallen in love with, gnawed at your core, leaving you feeling violated and used.

           Every word, every song shared between them now felt tainted with a bitter aftertaste like a melody played on false notes. The memories of their encounters, once cherished, were now soured by the revelation of his true identity, leaving you longing for the innocence and authenticity that had been stolen from you.

           “Stop doing this to me, Barbatos.”

           Venti's heart dropped like a heavy stone, the weight of his deception crashing upon him as you called him by his true Archon name. The alias he had carefully crafted to protect his identity and shield you from the truth had been shattered, exposing the depths of his betrayal.

           At that moment, he felt the bonds of trust and the foundation of their connection crumble, leaving him with a profound sense of remorse and an irreparable distance between them.

           These many years, most of them beautiful, some brutal, he has earned your trust. He has never strayed, betrayed, or abandoned but been stalwart, true, and loving. He had shown over and over that he would do anything in this world to keep you safe, yet all hope was lost when your trust in him vanished.

           He thought you knew his heart. Now that you've known the truth, he felt nothing but numbness. You misread him and then feel bitter and angry, though all the while he was simply doing his best to take care of you.

           His heart still beats, but against a chest that feels hollow. His eyes still see, yet the world that is so close around him seems far away. His mind began to shut down, unwilling to think anymore. Perhaps this was a shock, he’s really not sure. All he knows is that he keeps on pouring in love, hoping for the day he has earned redemption for "crimes" based on nothing but false perception.

           With his lips parted and slightly trembling, his eyes wavered, seeking to search for your own gentle ones he always loves to see. But fantasy wishes were absent when he was delivered with great betrayal and streams of tears.

           Pieces of him shattered within. The string of bond he’d been forging so carefully, a visceral representation of between Venti and yourself, now irrevocably snapped and broken. The pain of that rupture echoed through his heart, mingling with the confusion and disappointment you have that engulfed him.

           I kept wishing she’ll wake up…

           His hands outstretched as if to bridge the growing chasm between you.

           But as time went on, I wished I’d be with her. I wished she’d be mine.

           The bond that Venti had strived so tirelessly to safeguard had fractured beyond repair.

           I don’t have any hope anymore…

           As the fireworks continued to burst in the night sky, their explosive brilliance mirrored the turmoil within your heart— one in which he can still feel the connection with you.

           So I beg you, let me be by her side.

           The festival's jubilant symphony had transformed into a cacophony of pain and shattered love, leaving him standing in the midst of the chaos, feeling adrift and alone.

           Until the very last day, the very last moment.

           His memories of loving you, of twirling with you amidst blooming flowers in the garden, slipped through his grasp like ephemeral wisps of wind. The warmth of their connection, the carefree smiles they once shared, faded into the depths of his heart, leaving an ache of longing and regret.

           With each passing moment, the memories slipped further away, as if the hands of time were determined to erase the traces of their cherished moments together.

           “Tell me, what are you going to do? All of them have parted ways from this world and yet you don’t give up on her.” Rukkhadevata’s words echoed, reminding the Anemo Archon of the weight of his choices and the resilience of his unwavering affection.

           Sadness clouded upon his features, lips opening and closing to think of what to say yet no words or even a single sound came out.

           “But if you ever have encounters from the mortal world,” she paused then looked at him straight in the eyes. “You must never love anyone from there. Once you love a mortal, you’ll truly be all alone.”

           A whirlwind of thoughts and fears swirled within Venti's troubled mind, leaving him in a state of desperation and confusion.

           I didn’t know what to do…!

           I was desperate!

           I’m scared you’d leave me!

           He couldn't bear the thought of you leaving— of forgetting the time you once shared.

           I can’t live without her…

           She’s going to leave me.

           I won’t ever see her again.

           If we’re to separate, what am I to her?

           Fear gnawed at his heart, as he grappled with the uncertainty of what to do, desperate to find a way to keep you by his side.

           She’s going to forget me.

           I’m going to be a distant memory.

           Don’t leave me, please!

           No no no no no no no!!

           “AAAGHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

           Venti's once lively countenance crumbled under the weight of his inner turmoil. He fell to his knees and his hands clenched and pulled at his own raven locks in a frenzied grip. His eyes, wide with desperation, searched for solace in a world that seemed to slip away from his grasp.

           His piercing scream tore through the air, reverberating like a shockwave, causing a sudden commotion among the festival-goers. All eyes turned towards him, their joyful revelry momentarily halted by the raw display of anguish. The nearby knights were on alert and Aether pulled you back, shielding you from his sudden outburst.

           As his fingers tangled in his disheveled hair, his face paled, drained of its usual vibrant hues, reflecting the magnitude of his emotional breakdown. Tremors wracked his body, each gasp for air punctuated by a visible tremble, as the overwhelming weight of his sorrow threatened to consume him entirely.

           Amidst the crowd, a golden-haired knight quickly rushed forward, concern etched across her face.

           “What’s the matter?” As Jean approached him, an invisible force pushed her back. A strong gust of wind repelled her with a palpable force.

           “STAY AWAY!” Venti's emerald eyes burned with a fierce intensity. Teal winds gathered over him that were harsh and sharp.

           “Nobody comes near her! I won’t hesitate to kill any of you if anyone dares touch her!” His agitated features emitted a strong warning, a threat that dared anyone to come near—particularly those who might interfere with his desperate desire to keep you close.

           Jean stood in stunned silence, her usually composed demeanor shattered by the sight of Venti's transformation. His intense gaze and agitated state left her at a loss for words, a mix of concern and bewilderment swirling within her.

           As she gathered herself, a familiar presence approached, and Diluc, Mondstadt's respected noble and owner of the Dawn Winery, appeared at her side. His crimson gaze scanned the scene, his expression a mix of worry and determination.

           "Jean, are you hurt?" Diluc's voice held a note of urgency, his concern evident in his furrowed brows. He glanced at the tumultuous display Venti presented, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "What happened here? Is Venti alright?"

           Jean shook her head, still grappling with the shock of the situation. "I... I don't know. Something has happened to Venti. His behavior has drastically changed, and he seems determined to keep everyone at bay. We need to approach this situation with caution."

           Venti's world crumbled around him as the weight of your loss of love for him settled upon his fragile heart. A mental tempest consumed him, tearing at his very core. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably, mingling with anguished cries that echoed through the depths of his being, as he desperately clung to the hope of being with you once more.

           Aether's eyes widened with a mix of concern and urgency as he realized the dangerous shift in Venti's demeanor. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed your hand firmly, his grip conveying both protection and determination. Together, you ran, desperately seeking safety and distance from the escalating turmoil.

           Everything of the archon shattered into pieces when you fled from the scene with the traveler and his companion. The anguish was soon replaced by madness that clawed at his soul, driving him to the brink of hysteria.

           As you distanced yourselves from Venti, a tempestuous storm wall began to take form, encircling the city of Mondstadt with its formidable presence. The air crackled and a powerful surge of wind emerged, its intensity growing with each passing second.

           The blond dug his foot into the ground and allowed Paimon to clutch onto the tails of his cape as the wind grew harsher. The gusts howled, whipping through the streets and sending debris swirling through the air.

           Aether's brows furrowed, his focus unwavering as he guided you through the chaotic tempest. His elemental powers intertwined with the raging winds, creating a shield to protect you from the fury that brewed within the enraged god.

           However, soon was all meaningless when the wind surged with an unfathomable force, overpowering Aether's attempts to withstand its power. He was swept away. His figure was being thrown onto the ground harshly and you almost heard one of his bones crack before you could even react.

           Panic coursed through your veins as you instinctively reached out for him, but despite small efforts to help him and Paimon, you were locked in place. Before you could fully process what had transpired, an unseen force constricted around you, holding you in place.

           It felt as if an invisible hand, firm and unyielding, was gripping your very being, preventing any movement. The pressure intensified, leaving you immobile and vulnerable, trapped within an invisible prison while the storm raged on around you.

           The realization struck that this was no ordinary tempest, but an embodiment of Barbatos’s unleashed power. The bond between you and him, once a source of comfort and friendship, had now become a source of danger and entrapment. As the winds howled and the world seemed to fade into chaos, your heart raced when footsteps echoed from behind you, gradually getting louder and louder.

           The familiar green cape fluttered from your peripheral view and you sobbed, scared by everything that had been happening in this evening. This was supposed to be a happy day— a memory you want to keep and cherish forever, but it all changed after the reveal.

           “Barbatos, p-please… you have to stop this!” Your voice croaked but even if you were scared you have to stop him at all costs. But to no avail, he didn’t even bother turning to you. He continued walking, walking to where Aether lay.

           Paimon tried all her best to wake him up, but when a shadow loomed over her, she stood rooted in place. Her body was rendered motionless by the overwhelming force of the menacing aura that ensnared her.

           Venti approached Aether's collapsed form with measured steps, his features a tumultuous combination of anger and resentment. With hands surrounded by anemo, he reached out and grabbed Aether's cheeks with one hand. His hold was so tight it threatened to crush bone. The strength of his grip mirrored the overwhelming intensity of his emotions as if he could unleash his frustrations upon Aether's delicate jaw.

           “Why are you taking her away from me? You should know where to keep your hands to yourself.”

           His eyes darkened, filled with murderous intent to crush him against the floor. The Honorary Knight may be notorious for his strength and achievements in saving a few nations, but an archon’s power was not to be jest against an outlander. Barbatos may be weak, but he can command the winds at any time to slash this meddlesome man in an instant.

           “Barbatos, I said stop!” Your voice quivered with a mixture of fear and desperation as you pleaded at him to release his grip on Aether. Your words hung in the tense air, a plea for mercy.

           The archon slowly turned his head, his brows knitted and tightly drawn together, forming a series of horizontal wrinkles across his face.

           “[Name], don’t tell me you choose him over me?” He looked at you desperately, still clinging to that little bit of hope you’ll go back to him. But when you remained silent and flinched from fear, his grip on Aether’s jaw hardened and you faintly heard from afar his raspy grunt.

           Barbatos bit his lip so harshly that he drew a line of blood down his chin.

           “Why… why… why… why did it break?” His figure quivered as he sobbed his heart out. Your absence will surely leave an ache within his being, a void that cannot be filled. His mind and heart will be filled with equal parts of longing and frustration. “Why? It’s our bond.”

           “Bond…?” You echoed. “Barbatos, what are you talking about?” The conflicting emotions continued to surge within you, the pain and sense of betrayal intermingled with the lingering affection and connection you had felt toward him. The air around you was thick with tension as you stood there.

           He could see it in your eyes, confusion danced and their once familiar spark clouded by a haze of uncertainty. Disbelief lingered, as if questioning the very foundation of the bond he’s murmuring to himself. And in the depths of your gaze, he caught a glimpse of a distant look, as if your thoughts had wandered to a place beyond his reach, leaving him with a profound sense of longing and the daunting task of bridging the growing divide between them.

           “What’s that in your eyes? Ever since…” He questioned which was almost a whisper. His heart sank at the thought that you believed he could truly be that mean to you, that he really had the capability of lying to you over something as serious as this.

           Barbatos’s throat constricted, a physical manifestation of the turbulence raging within him, as he grappled with the consequences of his actions.

           “No!” In anguish, he gripped his own hair tightly, his hands trembling with self-reproach. “Why do you look at me with such distant… distant eyes?!”

           The sight of you, filled with fear and apprehension, struck him to the core, for the last thing he ever wanted was to be the cause of such terror in your eyes. Immediately, he let go of the Honorary Knight and approached you. His walking mannerism was unstable and crooked, his green eyes were dilated and the wind surrounding him became ruthless.

           In his unstable state, he stumbled forward, driven by a desperate need to bridge the growing chasm between you. He reached out, his trembling hands finding their way toward you, but in his faltering steps, he lost his balance and fell, his weight pressing down upon you, effectively caging you within his grasp.

           “NO!!”

           He yelled, whipping his head up to meet your gaze. His face was the most vulnerable anybody had ever seen it, eyes bloodshot as he looked at you with dampened cheeks. His hands clenched tightly onto your dress, fingers gripping as he wept, the weight of his emotions pouring out in a flood of tears.

           “Don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t go!”

           Gut-wrenching sobs tore through his chest, each tear that escaped his eyes carried the weight of his remorse and despair, mingling with your presence as a testament to his shattered heart.

           “Don't go! Don’t go anywhere! Don’t leave me!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation and fear. "Stay by my side! Stay by my side forever! Don’t leave me behind!”

           An endless fleet of desperate pleas for you were thrown through his hysterical cries. His body was shaking, his breath was patchy, and his voice cracked with every desperate plea that escaped his lips. The intensity of his emotions radiated through his trembling body, his very being consumed by a profound fear of losing you. Each word was punctuated by gasps for air as if the weight of his cries threatened to suffocate him.

           Tears continued to stream down his face, mingling with his desperate cries, as he clung to you with fierce determination.

           “Don’t… don’t…” His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. At that moment, it was as if time had frozen, the world reduced to the two of you, entwined in a moment of raw vulnerability and desperation.

           “DON'T ABANDON ME!”

           The three words choked out from his lips and it weighed so heavy, his voice filled with a mixture of anguish and an unwavering fear that transcended worlds. The depth of his plea resonated through the air, carrying the weight of his shattered soul, as he desperately sought reassurance that you would remain by his side forever.

           Your breath hitched and upon looking at him closer, he reminded you of a child who doesn’t want to be alone. Like a child throwing a tantrum as the scream came from a place or terror, telling of a mind lost in absolute fear. A lone tear streamed from your eye and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

           You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to say. Even you were at a loss and confused. And even if you did promise him you wouldn’t leave him, all those vows and commitments were insignificant if he played your feelings like this; hiding the truth from you from the very beginning.

           “[Name], please don’t leave me!” The spasms in his throat were potent. With each desperate plea that escaped Venti's lips, the winds surrounding Aether intensified, their force pressing against his body with an almost bone-crushing strength. The gusts howled mercilessly as if echoing Barbatos’s anguish, while you stood nearby, tears streaming down your face in silent despair and fear.

           The invisible pressure bore down on Aether, threatening to break him, his body bending and contorting under the immense strain. The agony etched across his features, mirroring the torment he endured both physically and emotionally. Yet, even amidst his own suffering, his eyes never wavered from yours, filled with a mix of determination and a desperate plea for your safety.

           In that harrowing moment, the winds howled in symphony with Venti's heart-wrenching cries, their combined force a manifestation of his turmoil and the strength of his longing.

           The delicate balance between the elements and the fragile memories you once shared now teetered on the edge of chaos, leaving you both caught in a tempestuous struggle between love and the painful reality of your fractured connection.

           Rain began to pour in the city. It has lost the ambient temperature of early fall, freezing and paling your skin on contact. Your dress was now drenched and so was the boy in front of you. The archon’s hand over your shoulder dropped back to his side and you heard him chuckling. Slowly, he turned to glance at the struggling traveler over his shoulder.

           “Haha… remember when I said your smartness sometimes makes me uncomfortable, Traveler?” In a blink of an eye, the bard was nowhere to be found. You don’t know what happened, but the choking sound was enough for you to find his current location.

           “It seems I’m growing to hate it now.” His voice dripped with venomous disdain. Barbatos’s hands were wrapped around Aether’s neck, the latter's face paled trying to gasp for air. The former’s glare was fierce and deadly while the blond struggled to free from his grasp, clutching on his wrist. Aether attempted to summon his sword, but it was futile when another wind force pushed his hands against the ground.

           “Always poking around when it’s not even your business. Are you really that eager to take her away from me?”

           Barbatos’s tone was dark, laced with a bitter resentment that cut through the air like a chilling wind. His words dripped with accusation, casting Aether as an intruder, an unwanted presence encroaching upon the fragile sanctuary of their relationship. His gaze, once filled with cheekiness, now bore into Aether with a cold, piercing intensity.

           “Venti, please stop!” Paimon cried but was once again left ignored. She eyed you pleadingly, her tearful round dark eyes begging you to cease his aggression to her one and only companion.

            As the winds of Barbatos’s Anemo power surged around him, you felt lightweight, breaking the invisible restraints that held you captive. In an act of sheer determination, you leaped forward, propelling yourself between him and Aether, using your own body as a shield to halt the escalation of his actions.

           With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed against the archon’s form, desperate to create a physical barrier that would prevent any further harm. The force of your impact disrupted the delicate balance of the moment, causing Barbatos to stumble backward, his grip loosening on Aether.

           For a brief moment, silence hung in the air and only the drops of rain reached your ears. It’s as if time had frozen, and the weight of your actions settled upon the trembling atmosphere.

           At that moment, you stared into his eyes, the depths of your own gaze reflecting a combination of determination and sorrow. You almost thought it was Venti’s eyes you were looking into. It was an unspoken plea for him to recognize the consequences of his actions, to understand that his path of despair and bitterness would only lead to more heartache.

           The eyes half-hidden behind his onyx hair were screaming, “Please… Don't leave me. I can't bear to lose you…” That was even sadder to you. It tugged at your heart even more than the idea of you all alone without your mother.

           “Will you throw me away?” His voice, albeit soft and in pain, reverberated through the cold air. A raw expression of his anguish and torment. “Abandon me? Leave me behind?” His voice cracked with the weight of his emotions, each word punctuated by a deep-seated longing.

           The feeling of being left behind… the loneliness of being alone…

           He gritted his teeth, his eyes furrowed so deeply from pain at your lack of response. He glared at Aether who was being taken care of by you. The blond leaned against you for support as he caught his breath and he looked at the bard through his hooded lids, his vision too hazy to see clearly.

           “Are you happy? You’ve won, Traveler.” Barbatos’s voice wavered, his eyes being covered by his dark fringe. The droplets fell with a steady rhythm, drenching the surroundings that matched the intensity of emotions in the air.

           “You stole my place in the world. You made me the villain here.” He clenched his fist, letting the rain cover his tear-stained face. “Does that feel good for you? Being the hero and saving the princess from the wicked villain?”

           Aether caressed his own neck to alleviate the pain. He can still feel the fingers wrapped on him so tightly and it’s horrifying how strong his strength is. He watched the archon, shriveled and small as he continuously threw harsh remarks.

           “Thanks to you, I’m alone!” His words echoed, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and anguish. “A mistake. The bad guy. Does that feel good?!” The accusation hung heavily in the air, a piercing reminder of the shattered trust and the weight of the consequences they both bore.

           In the midst of the downpour, Aether watched with a mixture of sorrow and resilience, his own eyes trembling as he mustered the strength to respond but he shut his lips, unable to find the right words to say.

           “You wreck my whole purpose and still get to be the “savior”.” A teal wind crowded within his palm and a sword was formed. He lifted the weapon and pointed at Aether, casting a dirty scowl at him with his deadly viridian eyes.

           “You’re the dirtiest of us all!!”

           As Venti lunged forward, his fury fueling his every movement, his sword poised to strike Aether. However, a red-haired figure emerged from the shadows, swiftly intercepting the archon's attack. The clash of steel reverberated through the rain-soaked air, a symphony of defiance and protection.

           His ruby eyes were ablaze with determination, his own greatsword meeting Barbatos's with a resounding clash. The nobleman stood firm, his unwavering resolve radiating from him like a shield. The intensity of their standoff intensified, their swords locked in a fierce battle, each swing a testament to the tumultuous emotions that coursed through them.

           In the face of the man’s intervention, the god's once-unyielding aggression seemed to waver. The torrential rain bore witness to the struggle, as the archon's fury clashed with Diluc's unwavering resolve. Their clash held the weight of conflicting loyalties and the desperate desire to protect, creating a moment of turmoil within the storm's embrace.

           “This has gone far enough! You’ve lost yourself, Venti! Stop this madness!” Diluc's voice thundered through the rain-soaked air, his eyes blazing with a fierce firmness.

           “Stay out of this!” Venti’s voice strained with a mix of frustration and anguish as he locked eyes with the nobleman, countering his attack by using another of his elemental powers.

           You observed the spirit’s demeanor. His enraged and heartbroken state tugged your heartstrings.

           All this time…

           His eyes spoke volumes, filled with regret and sorrow for the pain that had been unleashed.

           He’s been putting up a front because he was lonely…

           From the beginning, ever since the rebellion ended, he was given the role of the Anemo Archon to rule over Mondstatd— someone who’s not an average human, but above them all.

           He had seen countless of his people born and died. He tried to blend in with the community, but that’s just like being abandoned.

           “The reason you kept talking about “promises” and “bonds”…” You slowly stood up and Venti recognized the familiar beating against his chest. He halted and glanced at you with wide eyes, watching carefully and wishing in his mind you had finally understood him.

           “Otherwise, it would be scary if I leave you. It’s too scary to bear that feeling of loneliness.” Your eyes were brimming with tears as you turned to face the Anemo Archon, the conflicting emotions within you mirrored in his anguished gaze.

           The anemo sword in his hand dissipated and a smile tugged his lips.

           “[Name]…”

           Ah… you wished the sound of your name from his lips would give you that comforting and tingling feeling you’ve always loved whenever you seek his attention. But this isn’t Venti. He was never Venti from the moment you woke up from the garden.

           “But,” Barbatos flinched, his heart racing. “You’ve deceived and lied to me. You broke our promise, Barbatos.”

           He bit his lower lip. If only he could go back in time and change all of these, these would have never happened. He wished you’d go back to calling him Venti, but that name was never his but from a dear friend of his who died during the war. He simply took it, so that his name will be recognized by the people of Mondstadt for his great feat and effort.

           As the years of loneliness weighed upon him, he had fallen for you, and in his desperation, he had manipulated his powers to ensure your love. With a cautious and hesitant touch, he reached out, taking your hand into his trembling grasp.

           You didn't slap him, nor did you recoil from his touch. Instead, a complex mix of emotions flickered within your gaze—betrayal, confusion, and a hint of compassion. He took a deep breath and opened his lips. “Why would I lie to you about something like this?” he asked. 

           Your silence spoke volumes, the weight of the truth hanging heavily in the air, leaving both of you suspended in a moment of profound uncertainty and shattered trust. “I-I don’t know...” you answered, swallowing the hard lump in your throat. 

           “People and feelings can’t be bound down…” You added. “I think you have already realized that, haven’t you?”

           His thumb and index finger circled one of your wrists, and he gently whispered your name making you wish that you could rewind the time just to hear how sweet it sounded from his lips for a second time, and what Aether said was a mistake.

           “Hurting you is never an option. You have no idea how much I care about you. The lengths I am willing to go just to protect you from anything from anyone...”

           I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want a world where you don’t need me.

           He paused and you saw a shift in his expression, a pain that lingered before he allowed it to pass. He sighed before finishing his statement.

           “I can’t live in a world without you, without any of your love, promises, or bonds.”  His heart yearned to reach out to you, to restore the broken bond that has always been his peace. “I can’t live surrounded by strangers, without any guarantee I’ll be loved.”

           His voice quivered with a mix of pain and longing as he finally found the words to speak. “I know I’ve kept many things from you, and it’s usually for your own good. I promise, I have my reasons but…at this point,”

           I’ve run out of good enough excuses to keep hiding what you really mean to me.

           Barbatos’s grip on your hand tightened, his heartache evident in his gaze as he searched desperately for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. The rain continued to pour, washing away the remnants of their once unbreakable bond, leaving them to confront the painful reality of their intertwined fates and the fragile threads that held them together.

           “I mean it... every word...”

           Your eyes widened, everything around you went eerily silent and no sounds remained to wind up at your ears.

           It’s hard to grasp his words, trying your hardest to take in everything he said if the certainty of his tone was a fact or a lie. You recalled all the moments you shared. The time the two of you danced on that fine evening back in the garden that further deepened your relationship with him.

           A sense of unease lingered, a subtle tightening that wound around your heart, yet you dismissed it as inconsequential, attributing it to your usual infatuation with the bard's visage he emulated. You pushed the feeling aside, reassuring yourself that it was merely an inherent aspect of his demeanor.

           For months since you’ve woken up, you believed it was him all along. 

           Or maybe, I was too naive to see the truth.

           Venti isn’t an ordinary bard you could see anywhere you go. Everything about him is flawless. His charming personality, his attractive features, his unique talent in music, his carefree nature, the incredible skill set of a leader that leads him to win the rebellion against the tyrannic archon…

           Out of all the forms he could take, he took his identity and deceived you.

           You sucked on your bottom lip, hesitating your next move and not giving the young man in front of you any idea of how you were feeling about the entire situation. Your hands rested on your lap, clutching on the damp skirt of your dress— the dress he gifted to you— as you averted your gaze from his own.

           Barbatos only wanted you to be happy. You’re so beautiful when you smile at the grandiose and carefree festivity of Ludi Harpastum. That was why he prepared this for you—so that you would be happy and smile and not want to push him away because of his irrational deeds. He never meant to make you mad.

           When you first began to open your eyes in the garden of Old Mondstadt, he was afraid that you, too, might never wake up again as the former Dendro Archon had promised him. So he made everyone else go away instead. The red-haired warrior, the God of Time, Durin—they were all swept away, erased from his presence, as Venti wielded his power over reality. He believed that he could make anything disappear if he truly desired it.

           Yet, despite his godlike abilities, there was one thing he couldn't make vanish. One thing he desperately clung to with every fiber of his being—the love he harbored for you. It lingered, an unyielding force within his heart, refusing to be erased by the very power that had removed all else.

           In the midst of the storm, as the rain continued to fall and the weight of their shared history bore down upon them, Barbatos was left with the profound realization that his powers could never erase the complexity of emotions, the depth of his affection, or the consequences of his actions.

           It’s fine.

           The Anemo Archon cupped your cheek and lightly lifted your head up so you could see him eye to eye. Your breath stilled when his temple rested over yours, his breathing fanning over your lips as you trembled against his hold.

           Closing his eyes, Barbatos’s expression shifted into a twisted grin, his love for you manifesting in a possessive and unsettling manner. With an intensity bordering on obsession, he whispered the words over your lips, his voice laced with both adoration and a hint of madness.

           “I love you, [Name].” He smiled, the blush on his cheeks taking on an eerie hue in the dim light.

           It's alright. I'll fix everything.

           His thoughts spiraled into a mirage of darkness, a soliloquy whispered only to himself. His delighted voice reverberated through his mind as he pondered the complexities of their intertwined fate and the possible change of their future. In his delusion, he believed that he held the power to mold their destinies, to reshape the world to fit his desires.

           As the eerie glow of his blushing cheeks remained in his youthful face, Barbatos's smile widened, revealing a glimpse of his disturbed state. In his warped perception, love and possession merged into a twisted dance, blurring the lines between affection and obsession.

           “Don’t worry, we’ll start our life all over again.” His voice dripped with a sinister sweetness, promising a new beginning that carried a dark undertone. His dark emerald eyes bore into yours with an obsessive and possessive gaze. They held a wildness that bordered on madness, consumed by an unhealthy infatuation that seemed to consume his very being.

           Before you could fully comprehend the implications of his words, a snap of his fingers resounded amidst the rain in a chilling finality. In an instant, the world around you transformed, engulfed in an inky blackness that swallowed all light and hope.

           In the depths of his deranged mind, he envisioned a world where you were forever bound to him, where his love would rewrite reality itself. With a fervent determination, he vowed to mend what he believed was broken, heedless of the consequences that awaited both of you in the wake of his unsettling obsession.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute​

finally wrote the most awaited part of the series! i really enjoyed writing this and venti's despair and thought process throughout this chapter <3 and also when he said he was uncomfortable with the traveler's keen observation and smartness, that's actually canon!

[ellitx]

Derisive 2 | Heizou x Reader

Where Heizou decided to investigate and uncover Watatsumi Island's secret, and further investigate the mysterious shrine maiden in his own way.

part 2 of Derisive and one of my birthday fics for him. One year later and ive finally finished it lol. I might make this a series but updates will be sporadic since i still have to draft more outlines for a good plot and progress

fem!reader

artist: max_eera

word count: 6.4k

“Are you really that wary of me, Miss Shrine Maiden? I have told you, I’m here for a little trip.”

Ignoring his attempt in making a conversation with you, you could only huff as you put a good distance between him.

“I have my own intuition whether I trust you or not, Detective Heizou. Sure, you may be the renowned greatest detective in Inazuma but that doesn’t mean we’d let you do as you please.”

Cold fierce eyes, squared-up shoulders, gritted teeth—

“Intuition you say?”

He smirked, looking over his shoulder to peer at your frowning face. Without a doubt, you’re an aggressive woman. It’s a shame you always seem so grumpy and your temple would grow out wrinkles the often you do that.

Quite ironic he detests prejudice yet he’s doing it now. For a young shrine maiden such as yourself, you’re quite the character.

At his silence, you raised a brow at the young man before you in bafflement as he softly chuckled to himself. Whatever he was thinking, you hoped he wasn’t plotting against the island or planning to poke his nose around to where it shouldn’t be. Hearing rumors of him, the only way to silence him is through force— even if he’s the Shogunate’s loyal dog.

The man stopped in his tracks— almost having you bump into him if not for your quick reflex to notice his figure pausing. You eyed him intuitively whilst he stared at the scenery of Watatsumi Island.

Heizou’s breath slowed down. All pastel hues of this island will surely attract tourists to visit this side of Inazuma since the Sakoku Decree has ended. A small smile lifted up on his face before he turned his gaze back to you.

“Say, Miss Shrine Maiden—“

“[Name]. I have a name, Mister Detective.”

“Miss [Name]," He corrected. "Are there any cases arising here? Perhaps cases of a thief who stole a precious item, or mysteries left unsolved here such as the long lost treasure left by the Watatsumi Omikami?”

“There are no cases here and no treasures as well. If you want to go adventuring you’d be better off to go back to Narukami Island and take some commissions provided by the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Your eyes flashed open upon the realization of your words. That’s it! Giving him a case would have him preoccupied and absorbed. Once he’s gone, then the concern is finally out of the way. And you can finish discussing your unfinished business with General Gorou…

“Ah, actually, I do have a case for you.”

Heizou had his attention on you. His eyes glimmered in interest as he folded his arms over to his chest.

“Oh? Do enlighten me, please.”

“I have asked a friend of mine, who’s a traveler from afar, to assist us in finding the Heart of Watatsumi. Perhaps you’d be interested in taking this commission?”

Once his demeanor changed, you knew you caught his attention with your interesting offer. This is the chance he’d stop nosing around, and he wouldn’t bother anyone because after all, the traveler has already—

“Miss [Name], I’m disappointed you have the audacity to lie right in front of a detective. But I commend you for having the courage to do so.”

He smiled— or rather, sneered— at your petty attempt in fooling Inazuma’s greatest detective.

Staring back at him, you drove the corner of your lips to turn up and hid your clenched fists underneath your sleeves. Very cunning, without a doubt, but who said you couldn’t battle him through wits?

However, before the flames arose, a bundle of blonde locks of a certain traveler came into view together with her companion. Disappointing with the turn of events that Lumine unintentionally intervened, yet a blessing that she put an end to the silent fume between the detective and a shrine maiden lest it could lead to another war.

It would bring shame to you as the loyal servant of Lady Sangonomiya if that were to happen after all the efforts of bringing down the Sakoku Decree and the Vision Hunt Decree.

“Heya, [Name]! And hello… um…" Paimon looked over to the man next to you and leaned close to her partner to whisper. "Traveler, do you know who this guy is?”

Paimon asked the latter to her partner, yet both you and Heizou heard it clearly. After all, Paimon is never the type to be discreet and she’s in fact the opposite of considerate. Being conscionable wasn’t necessarily a bad thing yet when you partner it up with the floating creature, it’s much worse than bad.

Lumine berated Paimon with gritted teeth and apologized to you and Heizou on behalf of her.

“Oh! You must be the esteemed traveler!” The detective’s eyes glimmered in excitement as he leaned closer to the said female. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you. From fighting dragons to saving the nation from a disastrous attack from a god. To see you this close in person, it feels like I am now taking the role of the main character in your story.”

His fingers were settled on his chin as he examined her carefully from top to bottom.

“Uhm…”

Raising her hands to block him from invading another inch of her space, she took a step backward to put a distance between them, yet the universe was conspiring against her as her heels slipped at the unevenness of the surface causing her to lose balance.

She searched for an object to grab onto— anything that her eyes and hands could catch on— and yet she did not do so as she feared you’d be dragged along if she attempted to. Preparing for the worse, she braced herself for the harsh collision with the ground and hoped she wouldn’t fracture any of her bones.

But the concussion has never arrived, for a tenacious pair of arms wrapped around her slim waist and caught her on time before she meets her demise. To say that you’re the one who caught her was no surprise, yet her heart hammered and rang loudly in her ears at how close your face was to hers.

“Are you alright?”

You asked lightly, like the whispers of the wind lulling in the gentle breeze here on Watatsumi Island. Lumine’s shoulders squared up, her face heating up abruptly as she nodded vigorously and held on to your clothes for dear life.

Is it just her or does the lighting behind you make you even more charming than ever? The way you gazed at her with your deep-hued eyes, eyelids lowered as your hand gripped onto her waist firmly, almost slipping out a surprised squeak out of her lips when your fingers grazed against her bare back.

She averted her gaze from you, the tips of her ears yet to cease their steaming warmth from how cool and handsome you looked when you saved her.

“Lumine?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah… thanks, [Name].”

The traveler fumbled as she struggled to stand up straight. She can’t help but think you smelled nice—

No! Now’s not the time for that!!

Meanwhile, Heizou whistled in amusement at the intriguing turn of events. Just from Lumine’s reaction alone, he can already deduce there’s something going on between you two.

Would he use this chance to investigate further? Nah, as much as interesting it was, he wasn’t the love angel, and being a wingman isn’t his kind of field or specialization. He can simply observe from afar rather than confront.

And even if he did ask Lumine, she’d only deny it.

Man alive…

Despite how she finally recovered from her clumsiness and shock, she still swayed albeit unnoticeably whilst Paimon cooled her off with her scarf.

“Wow, you’re all red right now. Do you have a fever?”

Paimon inquired as she flew over to her partner and peeked underneath her burning visage. In turn, Lumine turned her away and forced out a chuckle— a really poor and discernible attempt to brush things off. Even a mere child can connect the dots altogether.

“I-I’m fine— anyways, enough about me,”

Clearing her throat, she turned her head to you, golden eyes displaying a serious demeanor.

“I’m here for a commission to bring Shikanoin Heizou back to the Tenryou Commission.”

A loud click resonated in your head, the spark of plugs roaring into the purr of anticipation when her little partner held out a letter over to you with the eligible and elegant handwriting of the sender.

As your eyes scanned over the significant details of this so-called “missing person”, you can’t help but laugh and jutted your thumb in Heizou’s direction.

“Well, aren’t you lucky? This man right here is the one you’re looking for. Now go on and have safe travels going back to Narukami Island.”

“Woah now hold on there, Miss [Name],”

Heizou butted in and curled his lips. His right hand hovered over to the commission letter you’re holding and lowered it down. His smile gradually became wider and condescending which irked you the most. At this point, you’re like a walking bomb, ready to explode once the time runs out.

“Who told you I was going with the traveler? For all I care, the Police Station can handle themselves when Madam Kujou is there to supervise them.”

Oh how much you wanna wipe off that smug smirk etched on his face.

“And besides, I can send a letter and have Traveler hand it to them. Honestly, I’m really flattered they missed me.”

Heizou drew his shoulders displaying his satirical indifference to the situation. It can’t be helped then… It’s better to have someone watch over him if he insists on staying on this island.

“Fine,”

Heizou didn’t miss the sharp tone in your voice. He can tell you were holding yourself from lashing out at him. Though everything he does is mundane activities and nothing suspicious of sorts, it’s like passing by the lion’s cage and roaring at him.

“Lumine, pardon for this sudden request but please keep an eye on Detective Heizou. I need to get going and assist the shrine maidens.”

Giving them a short and brief bow, you bid your last farewell. “I’ll be taking my leave. If you need any assistance you can always approach General Gorou or any of the Watatsumi soldiers.”

With that, you waved your hand in goodbye to the three and left off as you withdrew from your misadventures with the detective.

“Heizou, if you don’t mind me asking…” Lumine called out to him. “I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

The detective chuckled as he rested his elbow over his arm, deep in his thoughts. “Well, let me think for a moment… It all started a long time ago, during the war…”

Heizou began to explain his purpose for being sent here. The former Tenryou Commissioner, Kujou Takayuki, ordered him to investigate the military capabilities of Sanganomiya. However, the detective wasn’t interested in abiding by his orders and decided to treat his free trip on this island as a vacation.

“As for the mission, I thought I’d just come up with some random excuses or whatever when I reported back hence why I proposed sending a letter to the commission instead of having me go back there.”

Heizou cheekily smiled and chuckled after looking at Lumine’s perplexed state. She can already sense mischief in him and begins to understand why some folks of Inazuma are irked by him— even the shrine maiden of this island was affected by it…

Poor, [Name]…

She internally prayed for you. No wonder why you seemed so aggravated when she came onto the scene.

“So will you be sending a letter then?” Lumine inquired though the detective clicked his tongue at her and wagged his finger. Heizou’s green eyes glinted under the sunlight, his smirk widening— an announcement of sorts that was yet to unveil its magic to his audience— and it was hard to miss that he had something up on his sleeves.

“Nope, but rather, I would like to invite you to come join me.”

“Join you…?” Lumine’s suspicion grew further. It’s best to be cautious and wary around him. And knowing he’s pretty cunning and smart that he can already tell their purpose of being here based on their appearance and demeanor that gave it away, who knows if Shikanoin Heizou is a trustworthy detective as they say.

But what I’m thinking is contradicting… I heard he’s solved hard cases to help those people…

Whatever plan or motive he has, she has to make sure it’s not something dangerous or that would affect everyone here…

Eyeing him in suspicion and doubt only caused him to laugh, not even worrying the slightest bit that in front of him was the famed traveler who defeated a god and saved a nation. For all he knows, he could easily be pinned to the ground by her.

But Heizou knows.

His intuition is telling him that she was the key to solving the mystery of this island.

Walking up to her, he leaned close to her ear and whispered. The words ingressing through her ears had her shuddering as a surge of turmoil coursed through her veins.

—

“The survey status of Great Omikami’s resting place is complete and no sight of Fatui has been detected.”

“The Mouun shrine is still in development and it’s slowly rebuilding to its former glory.”

“The sango pearls are kept in the warehouse. Do not worry, we stored all the high-quality ones in preparation for the shipping tomorrow.”

“The villagers in Bourou Village are having a shortage of goods. We need to transport plentiful of produce as soon as possible…”

The last statement was inevitable given the fact how dense and barren the soils are… You heaved a heavy sigh and took a mental note of the samurais’ and shrine maidens’ reports.

Hopefully, everything goes as planned…

“Thanks. Please report this as well to General Gorou.”

This is bad. Really really bad.

Dismissing all of the samurais, you have a bad feeling something bad might happen. You know for sure the major problem here is the lack of medicines and produce. Not only that, you have to keep the Fatui away from stepping on this land after the Delusion incident that affected all the soldiers who were deceived.

And that detective…

Shikanoin Heizou is one of the major disturbances you need to handle lest he discovers Watatsumi’s affairs… Hopefully, he doesn’t cross paths with General Gorou and have the traveler bring him back to Narukami Island.

—

“W-wh-whoa, hold it right there! Are you saying Gorou’s a thief? As in, he took something valuable?!”

The little fairy hollered. Disbelief and perplexity were written all over her small round face as her brows curled up and her nose scrunched after Heizou’s proclamation.

“It’s not simple, I can’t fully explain it… It’s just my intuition.”

Heizou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He then eyed Lumine who was beginning to be slightly uneasy.

“This certainly doesn’t line up with the Gorou I know…” She muttered under her breath. If anything, Gorou is one of the trusted fellows she knows and for anemo-user to say something absurd about him is beyond logic. There’s no evidence of it nor good reasoning as to why Gorou would do such a thing.

“Sure, I trust your judgment. But if that’s still not enough to convince you then what about Miss [Name], the shrine maiden I was with before?”

Lumine felt herself snapping. She silently clenched her fist, her nails digging deep into her palm as she harshly glared at the young detective before her. Hearing your name spew out of his lips and claim you as a thief is even far worse than pointing out Gorou’s suspiciousness— at least by her standards.

She puts you above anyone else she has met in her travels in this vast world.

“What makes you say that?” She asked through gritted teeth and Heizou did not miss the sharpness in her tone, yet he merely brushed off her change of behavior.

“Given from her strength alone, she’s most likely trained in combat. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she’s part of the army guising as a shrine maiden to watch out for suspicious activities happening around here.”

That’s it. Lumine had enough of Heizou’s “intuitive” remarks.

“No, you’re overthinking this,” She grabbed his wrist harshly then pulled him away from the shrine. “I’m going to take you back to Ritou no matter what and investigate this Godot character.”

But Heizou broke free from her brutal grip and stayed put in his place.

Well, this is getting interesting.

“Getting too suspicious, am I?” He rubbed his wrist which was reddening, but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected. He stared at Lumine with the same vigor she was radiating before sighing. It was a big disappointment the traveler wasn’t on the same page as him for taking this adventure and solving the mystery.

“In which case, I’ll stay here and get back to you once I figure out the secret of this place.” Heizou turned his heels and waved them goodbye, taking his leave. However, Lumine rushed into view before him, using herself to stall him and prevent the detective from going anywhere.

“Fine. I’ll go with you on your investigation. But on one condition,”

Lumine, who was increasingly provoked by his previous comments, scorned then turned up her nose, declaring something remarkable— something Shikanoin Heizou himself was awaiting for this specific event to occur.

“If we don’t find any of this secret you keep talking about, you take back what you said about Gorou and [Name] and never interact with them ever again. And if you were right about [Name] and Gorou who are involved in this so-called “theft”, then I won’t get in the way of all of your investigations no matter how suspicious it may be.”

Heizou’s hunch was right. A smirk was itching on his face. One that makes this day more interesting for him than spending his time at the boring Police Station flipping through all mundane and typical missing items cases.

His front was now directly facing the traveler and he rested his hand atop of his chin.

“May I add on that offer then? If I crack the case, then tell me all you know about [Name]. Of course, an equivalent exchange must be done and it would be unfair if I get all the things I want, no?”

Heizou walked towards her and patted her shoulder. Leaning in close to her ear, he then whispered. “Think this thoroughly on what you would add to this proposition you started yourself. I’m even willing to offer myself up to assist you in any way I can, that is if you win, Traveler.”

—

After Lumine and Paimon had a thorough discussion on what to do, they decided to investigate Borou Village late at night and follow Todoroki, the man responsible for the caravans. It’s the best time to trail after them yet a risky job because of how open the village is.

Although, it would’ve been better if the little fairy had kept her mouth shut. Heizou had his hand over Paimon’s mouth to silence lest Todoroki and Tokuda could catch sight of them.

“Keep quiet! We don’t want to be caught when we’re this close to finding out the truth!”

Heizou lightly scolded her as Lumine looked over to her shoulder and took a peek over the fence if the coast was clear. Signaling to the detective, both moved swiftly towards the small house and kept a good distance where they could still eavesdrop on their conversation and note down important details.

Just as Lumine was about to steal a peek at them again, the familiar sight of her dearest shrine maiden was walking to where the two men were. Your hair was tied into a ponytail that swayed as you strolled along the trail. And the big crates you were carrying were hard for her to miss.

Her heart dropped. She knew right away where she was going.

“[Name]?!” she whispered to herself in dismay.

Paimon was startled by Lumine's reaction and turned back to look at her with wide eyes. But thankfully, Heizou was able to suppress her voice and keep her down before she could act recklessly and ruin their cover.

“I guess that’s all of them?” They heard your voice behind the small hut, the sound of a crate’s woods crackling on one another can be heard as well. Heizou deduced you must have stacked them up.

“Amazing as ever, Todoroki! Your intel was spot on!” One of the Watatsumi soldiers exclaimed with a laugh. “We wouldn’t have done this without the assistance of [Name].”

The soldier slapped his hand over your shoulder, earning a groan from you before taking his hand off of you. “Everyone did their part as well. Don’t give all the credit to me.” You remarked.

Todoroki circled the area, checking for any damages to the supplies. “Everything seems in order and the price of the grain in the village has decreased thanks to you.” He hummed in appraisal.

“It’s great you’ve brought medicine for us, Todoroki.” The other Watatsumi soldier said before continuing, “I would have never thought the injuries we sustained in the war would have a lingering effect on our bodies…”

“Don’t push yourself you two,” Patting both of their shoulders, you gave them a lighthearted smile. “The island still needs you and don’t you dare die on me when you still owe me for that drink I made you.”

Both of the soldiers chuckled at your joke and thanked you profusely. You just let it slide and continued, "Oh! I almost forgot!" You turned around to the two men, "The wagons are prepared!”

“Before that, what’s the state of the village's inventory?” Todoroki questioned. The voices faded out from Lumine’s ear, still in disbelief you were part of this suspicious activity. You’re not that kind of person, right? That’s not the [Name] she knows so well!

In the background, you and the soldiers walk away from the scene, giving the opportunity to Heizou and his companions to further investigate the area and in this case they’re dragged with.

“The soldiers seized the Nobushi’s stolen goods?!” The little fairy’s comment made it even more difficult for the traveler.

“And they never intend to return it to the International Trade Association…” Lumine added. Her heart feels heavy and her stomach churning from discovery. Bringing her palm to her lips, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With everything that’s going on here, it might take some time for her to digest this information.

Heizou eyed her from the sidelines, observing her pale features and change in behavior. He can’t blame her. If he were in her shoes, he’d lose his trust in his friend too. But as a detective, you shouldn’t always trust what’s in front of you and only trust yourself.

Heizou patted Lumine’s shoulder, snapping her out of her train of thought. “Todoroki said he’ll get instructions from Gorou tomorrow. There’s something else behind this.” His touch was almost reassuring her that he’d crack the case and reveal the hidden truth. Lumine can’t help but scoff coldly to herself. It’s ironic, really, that the detective was showing her sympathy despite their recent negotiation about [Name] and Gorou.

But despite all these, she can sense no malice or mockery from his touch. Maybe he has a good heart after all, and yet…

No, I have to focus on this. Snap out this, Lumine! I still know [Name] is a good person! Maybe she has a good reason behind all these things…

Investigating through those boxes it’s mostly herbs and flowers such as qingxin flowers and glazed lilies… And according to Heizou’s deduction, it should be for medicinal purposes. From the corner of Lumine’s eye, she saw a piece of paper sticking out from the crate and faded written letters of “Foreign Trade Association”.

Perhaps a bill of sorts…

“If these crates were to be imported from Ritou, the price would be jaw-dropping,” Heizou remarked.

[Name]’s a good person!

“On top of that, these items seem to lack a tax clearance certificate, meaning they were most likely smuggled.”

That’s right! It’s all those thieves' fault. It had nothing to do with them.

“Did you find anything else, Traveler?” Lumine jumped and shook her head.

“Oh, ugh, unfortunately nothing…” Heizou squinted his eyes at her and she was practically sweating bullets when he never took his eyes off of her. She coughed to divert his attention to somewhere else.

The detective can only sigh and leave her be to give her some space. Across his vision, two figures were coming their way. Oh, speak of the devil. The two soldiers who were with you are now here. Heizou smirked behind his hand, closely observing and listening to their conversation. Now’s the good time to dig for information from them to confirm his suspicions.

—

The goods are prepared and ready to set off. The last thing to do is to wait for the ship to arrive. You sighed and wiped off the sweat rolling down your face with the sleeve of your kimono.

Please let everything go well.

The sun is bright, the corals are more colorful than ever, and Todoroki was with you at the Sangonomiya Shrine. You smiled and the man chuckled, taking in the breathtaking scenery, hoping for a peaceful voyage ahead.

“Today’s a good morning isn’t it?” You began and Todoroki could see the flowers blooming around you because of your positive state.

“Indeed a good morning.”

Huh, that’s weird. Todoroki’s voice seemed so different. “Todoroki did you drink something? Your voice seems younger.” You chuckled and the man looked a bit perplexed but then burst into laughter.

“How odd. I thought I heard someone else when it’s just the two of us here.” He laughed along with you, finding the situation quite amusing.

“Weird isn’t it? Because there’s actually someone here with you, Miss [Name].”

Your eyes were now wide open. The brightness in them had faded and transformed into one of darkness and annoyance. Though the smile on your face remained, Todoroki saw the corner of your lips twitch and the broom in your hand almost snapped into two pieces.

“Oh my. I take back what I said. This is a rather horrible morning.” The man’s laughter slowly died down as he noticed the change in your behavior and the appearance of a new guest— well, three guests to be exact— who was behind you.

The playful atmosphere vanished in mere seconds and he can sense your annoyance. Todoroki cleared his throat nervously and cautiously observed the unfamiliar red-headed man who had a striking smirk donning his youthful face.

“Ahem… uh, who are you?” The old man asked, his brows knitted together.

“Hello, Todoroki and Miss [Name]. I'm Shikanoin Heizou, special detective of the Tenryou Commission.” The detective introduced himself and he never missed the way you glared at him. He simply smiled at you and his eyes glowed as he crossed his arms over his shoulder, preparing the confrontation to finally seek the answers he’s been looking for.

“I believe you two have been manipulating large-scale illegal trades for some time now. Mind if we talk about that for a bit?” He didn’t hesitate to ask. It was now or never when the two main culprits were here before his eyes.

Lumine clenched the hem of her skirt. She’s helpless and unable to do anything to stand up for you. Even though things have already been discussed yesterday to clear things up, she still believes in you no matter what.

Todoroki was about to storm off but you managed to stop him. The baffled and shocked reaction was clear and expressive and things may get out of hand if he raged and shouted to the detective. “I don’t understand what you mean, detective.”

The detective's smirk only widened as he leaned in, maintaining his composure despite the tense atmosphere. "Oh, I think you understand perfectly well," Shikanoin Heizou said, his voice calm and collected. “Well let me make it clear for you: we've been closely monitoring the activities, and all the evidence points to the two of you."

Todoroki's face flushed with anger, his usually composed demeanor shattered by the baseless accusations. Clenching his fists, he struggled to contain the seething rage building within him. “Ridiculous! I don't have time to listen to this. Get out of here, you little brat!”

“Todoroki, calm down.” Your restraint on him was tight and firm, though his anger can never diminish at least he held back from lashing out.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose to alleviate the building headache. Your morning started off horribly already before you could even do your usual work.

“I just wanna know and confirm from you personally what we already know to be the truth.” The detective chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your glare. At this point, he’s already grown used to it now.

You cast a worried glance at the old man, realizing the severity of the situation. Lumine, though unable to intervene directly, tried to offer silent support from the sidelines. The detective's gaze shifted to her, and he raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Argh... Masashi! Tokuda! Arrest these people!” Todoroki shouted, alerting the named soldiers. Masashi and Tokuda hesitated for a moment as they saw the intensity of his anger. They were torn between obeying their superior's orders and questioning the validity of the detective's claims.

Seeing the dangerous situation unfold, you stepped forward, your voice calm but assertive. “Wait no! Put the weapon down!”

The detective sighed, seemingly disappointed by the chaos he had caused. "Oh, but it seems like emotions are running high. Perhaps the truth is finally coming to the surface," he remarked, fueling the fire further.

You tightened your grip on Todoroki's arm, trying to anchor him and maintain control of the situation. "Enough of this nonsense! If you have any evidence, present it properly instead of making baseless claims."

The situation had escalated far beyond your expectations, and you knew that finding a way to clear your names and prove your innocence would be a daunting task. With tension still thick in the air, you hoped that rationality would prevail and that the truth would ultimately come to light.

Heizou tutted, wagging his index finger as if he was a disappointed parent. “We saw you last night, Miss [Name] and Mister Todoroki. You were with Tokuda and Masashi helping to carry the goods.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you felt your heart was about to come out of your throat. “Well, the Traveler can confirm it for me. Isn’t that right?” The redhead peered over to the said name. Lumine hesitated for a moment, torn between being truthful and not wanting to further implicate you or Todoroki. She took a deep breath and nodded.

You groaned, the defeat sinking into you slowly, eating up your entire soul. You swallowed your pride and sighed heavily. It’s better to clear up the misunderstanding than fuel this fire into madness.

You went down onto your knees and placed your head against the ground. Todoroki's eyes widened in shock, and it wasn’t just him. Even Lumine, Paimon, the two soldiers, and Heizou were surprised.

For you to kneel and beg was unexpected and Todoroki was concerned when you performed dogeza. "Hey, [Name], there's no need for that," he said, his voice softer now, realizing the toll the situation was taking on you.

Gorou came rushing in, his arms wide as he stepped in and intervened. “Everyone, please calm down!” He was panting heavily, running immediately to the Sangonomiya Shrine when he was alerted by the soldiers of the conflict occurring here. 

You ignored Todoroki and pleaded for Heizou’s empathy. “Please, listen to us.” Heizou watched you with a mix of surprise and curiosity as you pleaded for understanding. The tense atmosphere seemed to momentarily ease as Gorou's presence diffused the situation slightly.

The detective crossed his arms, his expression stoic as he considered your plea.

"Fine, I'll listen," he said, though his tone still held a hint of skepticism. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you explained Watatsumi Island’s current struggle and situation.

“Watatsumi is a barren island. Growing crops here is futile…” It shattered Lumine’s heart to hear your voice wavering. “You can't grow food or medicinal herbs here. And if we buy them from Ritou, we pay exorbitant taxes.” Todoroki added, exasperation evident in his tone.

“My eldest son died fighting on the battlefield. But do you know how my second son died? He died because there was no medicine to treat him! He sacrificed himself so [Name] will be treated!”

Your stomach felt heavy, recalling the smell of rust and heavy stains of red all over your abdomen. The old man's face was etched with grief and frustration as he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. “[Name] got injured during the war and I was able to cure her before things got worse…”

You clenched your fist and bit your lip. You still didn’t raise your head. This was the only way to show and beg for the Shogunate’s mercy and understanding. Rebelling would be useless and you’d be willing to turn yourself in if that’s the only option to save your hometown.

“I beg you, please don’t tell this to the Commission… This is the only thing I ask of you, Shikanoin.” You dropped the mocking nickname and addressed him by his last name. Todoroki hated seeing you kneeling like this. His anger was boiling, fueling his rage, and it was hard to stop himself.

“Gorou, if we detain them today, the Shogunate will never know what we've done. Besides, we're only a few months away now...We will set them free once the new bill is passed in just a few months, and everything will be okay. None of what happened here will be mentioned again, and life on Watatsumi Island will continue to improve.” Todoroki convinced the general. The urgency and desperation were so evident and the gears on Heizou’s head were turning, finally confirming his case.

“I understand you’re worried about them, Todoroki. But they won’t—“

“That man’s a Tenryou Commissioner!" He cried, his voice becoming scratchy. "If we let him go free, then who's to say that the Shogunate won't come after us tomorrow? If they decide to investigate, we won't be able to hide the truth.”

The general furrowed his brows, understanding the gravity of the situation. Heizou's knowledge of the smuggling activities could be disastrous for the people of Watatsumi Island.

Todoroki looked like he was giving up. No matter how much he argued and convinced Gorou, it’ll all be useless. He’s a simple farmer and he has no power commanding the island’s government.

The atmosphere was gloomy and tense, it almost affected Lumine as well. But her eyes lit up recalling what Todoroki said.

“Wait, what is the bill you just mentioned?”

“It's a new commodity tax bill currently being drafted by the Kanjou Commission. The bill exempts taxes on goods that are in short supply on Watatsumi Island. Once the bill is introduced, we'll be able to buy commodities that we need from regular marketplaces…” Gorou explained.

Then everything clicked. Heizou chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, I see. Man alive… These all make sense now.” He settled his gaze back to you and your eyes made contact with him. Just one look at him and you can feel the dread eating you up whatever that might come out of his lips.

“Alright, in exchange to keep everything here a secret, I’ll stay here a little bit longer.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Hearing you scream at the top of your lungs and standing up surprised everyone.

Oh that shit-eating smirk is back again. The vein on your forehead was noticeable and Lumine calmed you down by pulling you back.

“Oh you heard me. I’m staying here and I’ll be able to see you more, Miss [Name].”

Your heart sank as you realized the implications of Heizou's words. He was willing to stay on Watatsumi Island, watching and wandering the coast area. You’d see him all day while you work and just the thought of it is enough to make you gag in disgust you’ll see this man.

The relief you felt about the bill that could potentially help the island was overshadowed by the fear of having a Tenryou Commissioner in your midst, ruining your peaceful life.

“Oh, come on, Miss Shrine Maiden. What’s with that look? Surely you must have noticed that, aside from being a detective, I am also an ordinary tourist who likes to enjoy good scenery?”

The annoying nickname was back again. You couldn't hide the disdain in your eyes as Heizou's smirk grew wider. Your heart sank further as you realized that the detective's prolonged stay on Watatsumi Island would indeed be a constant source of unease for you.

It wasn't just his involvement in the smuggling investigation that bothered you; it was his nosiness that annoys you the most that there's a possibility he'll take confidential information about the island and use it against you leading to another war.

Gorou and Todoroki, however, seemed unfazed by Heizou's decision to stay longer. The general saw it as an opportunity to further strengthen the island's ties with the Tenryou Commission.

"I'm glad to hear you'll be staying a little longer, Detective Heizou," Gorou said, a hint of gratitude in his tone and Todoroki nodded in agreement.

You forced a smile, not wanting to cause further tension. Deep down, you knew that they were right – accepting Heizou's presence was necessary to buy time until the new bill could be passed. Still, it didn't change the fact that you dreaded the days ahead, knowing that you'd have to endure his watchful gaze while trying to go about your daily work.

Heizou's eyes locked with yours again, and you could sense the amusement in his gaze. "Oh, come on now, Miss Shrine Maiden. I promise I won't be a bother," he said teasingly.

You gritted your teeth, suppressing the urge to retort. There was nothing you could do but play along and hope that the situation would resolve itself once the new bill was in effect.

Until then, you'd have to be on guard and keep Lady Sangonomiya close and safe, all while enduring the presence of a suspicious and nosy Tenryou Commissioner on Watatsumi Island.

[ellitx]

— art belongs to: @gege112h and @idomiz_

₊˚ପ⊹ welcome to my blog! i’m elli. i love writing fanfics and stories especially for small fandoms and limited screen time characters. i do NOT take requests. however thirsts, asks, and rambles are always welcome.

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₊˚ପ⊹ im currently into genshin and cool doji danshi (for writing fanfics) other interests can be found in my side blog which is down below.

₊˚ପ⊹ souma’s muse, himmel’s princess, heizou’s housewife, and venti’s angst bully | firm believer of dom venti supremacy

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