☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings none
{☆} word count 1.9k
{☆} previous [ 1 ]
This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.
She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.
But it'd been almost a week since then.
The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
That counted for something.
Not much, but something!
..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.
There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.
She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.
So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.
Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.
Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.
Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.
She really didn't like it.
There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.
She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.
She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.
That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.
Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.
But he wasn't.
He was out running her nation, instead.
And what was she doing? Nothing!
She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.
Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.
Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.
..She wasn't ready.
What was she supposed to say?
Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?
She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.
For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.
Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.
Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.
It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.
"Focalors?"
The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.
She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.
"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"
The silence is deafening.
She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!
"Lady Furina?"
Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.
"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.
Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.
Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.
"Why aren't you killing me?"
The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.
She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.
"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."
The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.
He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.
..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?
How unfair.
"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"
She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.
..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.
She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.
For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.
Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.
For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.
Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.
She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.
She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.
She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.
"Again."
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Slightly exhausted, just a bit tipsy, and on my way to think about Neuvillette's reactions to receiving a genuine compliment. Specifically about his eyes. Because every compliment he's received has always been about some kind of learned behavior - his composure, his eloquence, his authority in court - and never about, well, himself. Especially not his eyes.
No, those were usually met with disdain, fear, or a general uneasiness. Even the most well meaning humans can't hold his gaze for very long - and the list of those that can is even shorter. It's something he's made peace with: catching the Iudex's eye is something most (if not all) Fontainians seek to avoid. Whether it's in the courtroom or on the street, Neuvillette's gaze is cold and impassive; aloof and indifferent to the passing of time around him.
Except..it isn't.
He's observant, curious; he casts a critical eye not in the case of judgement, but for the sake of his own lack of understanding. There's an innocence there -- no, not innocence. Even in your tipsy babbles, you had used the term "inexperience" to describe the heavily veiled emotion there. A barely there hint of softness - one that was most often seen when he spoke with the Melusines and rarely (yet with increased frequency) directed towards you.
Neuvillette finds it...unnerving in a sense. Not in a particularly negative way, but one that brings him a strange sense of calm. Peace bordering on comfort. For someone to notice his mannerisms and behaviors and see them not as the immortal eccentricities of the Chief Justice, but as features that make him who he is...well, he's not exactly sure how to feel about it. Perhaps it's because he doesn't understand how he's supposed to feel about this - about being known in such a rarely intimate way. And perhaps to you it isn't as intimate as it is in his mind (a feeling he hopes isn't as visible as the other emotions you've been able to find in his eyes) but he cannot help but hope that it is.
To have his own questions and curiosities met not with anxiety, but with genuine enthusiasm is already a shift for him. To then be seen by you - known by you - not as the Iudex of Fontaine or even as the Hydro Sovereign but as Neuvillette...he will have to take some time for himself to understand it.
But for now, he'll meet your eyes and give you a slight nod; a small acknowledgment and murmured "thank you" in response to your compliment. For now, he'll just have to hope that his veil of impartiality is enough to continue to hide these thoughts.
For now...for now.
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More headcanons of the Nimona trio being domestic dorks
Whenever the trio gets sick of each other they’ll ask the person in the trio they’re not pissed at to handle them
It always goes something like this “Ambrosius come get your kid they won’t leave me alone-“ “No Nemesis come get your husband he’s being a stick in the mud”
Or “Bal go get your son from prison he got arrested again” “Oh so he’s my son today?” “Yes when he’s stupid enough to get caught he’s your son”
If you're wondering why Nimona doesn't just escape its cause they find it hilarious when Bal has to come to bail them out at random points in the day
There are also times when they’re proud or happy and they’ll say things like “I’m gonna go get my daughter ice cream” “Since when is she just your daughter?” “Since right now when she helped me fix my prosthetic”
“Hey boss where’s my Nemesis I heard he got in a fight today” “I thought he was my Nemesis” “Not when he puts three guys in the hospital he’s not”
Bal is one of those people who sees something and says “Why would I buy that when I can just make it” AND HE DOES
Nimona has a bad habit of fucking up speakers so Bal just set up a sound system throughout the house
If the trio weren’t such antisocial losers with three friends combined their parties would be amazing
He made Ambrosius a skincare cabinet just so he could put actual medicine in the medicine cabinet
When Nimona moved in he asked them what their ideal room would look like
She gave him a rough draft and he did all of it
They spend a week tearing that room apart so they could soundproof it so she could rock out without disturbing the boys
She has sick ass LED lights and she’ll change the colors depending on her mood
Ambrosius and Bal helped her paint the walls the most obnoxious shade of neon pink And then they didn’t complain when she spray painted over said walls
It’s worth it to see her visibly relax when she enters her room
This man has gutted and put back together and rearranged their little house so many times it’s unrecognizable
I also feel like everyone in the trio is a crafty bitch
They all have a million little hobbies that have produced even more trinkets that fill up their whole house
Their house is this weird combination of comfy yet chaotic and it's a minimalists nightmare
Cleaning is also a nightmare but they wouldn't change it for anything
Back when they were in the institute Ambrosius was a terrible cook -♾️/10 his cooking would put people in the hospital
After the knighting ceremony was the first time he was living by himself and didn’t have access to free food so he taught himself how to cook
Honestly most people would think he would give up
I mean there are only so many times you set water on fire before you throw in the towel
But he's a stubborn brat and cooking took his mind off of everything so he stuck with it
One day Bal came home to the smell of cooking and he assumed it was Nimona
He swears to this day he had a heart attack when he saw Ambrosius in front of the stove and Nimona comfortably sitting at the dinner table not helping at all
He promptly dragged Nimona out of there like a bomb just went off and warned him not to touch Ambrosius’ food
He told Bal “The more you call it a biohazard the more I want to eat it”
So Bal used him like a test dummy
When Nimona finally did try it they turned to Bal and complained that he lied
Bal thought he was being pranked until he was forced by Nimona to try the food
And it was good
More than good I was fucking amazing
He asked Ambrosius quite frankly “Who are you and what have you done with my husband”
Ambrosius just rolled his eyes and told him to eat the food
Bal never gave up on finding out how and slowly but surely he started asking like a normal person
And Ambrosius never answered like a normal person
His answers would range from “A chef never reveals his secrets” (“that’s a magician love” “just zip it and eat your food”) to “I’m never telling you so suffer and finish this meal I lovingly cooked” (“is it still considered love if you knew I was gonna suffer?” “Yes” “…. Makes sense”)
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