#i think abt them 24/7

[caluupin]

comfort :)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

and! barbarian!fig! its her

[lovesickeros]

☆ 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."

[dreiiton]

...you should be able to hold the babies, I think

[jinkushiroll]

katsuki being taller but having short gremlin energy while being secretly very sensitive and izuku being shorter but with tall angel energy who is absolutely fucking feral saved my life. thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[charalol]

I just saw a post that was like. You should always follow your instinct!! Your friends do hate you!!! And like. No?? Do not do this. To yourself or to your friends. Especially with super close friends. Your friends love you. It's why we are friends.

If you're really worried about it. Ask. And I get it. I'm autistic too. It's hard and you notice little changes and you overthink it but. I get busy. Things happen in my life. And I always have to tell myself life happens to everyone. Even if it's hard to see outside your lense.

Tldr. If you're worried. Ask them or talk to them. If you're right. I'm sorry. That sucks but you don't want to be friends with someone who isn't compatible/ mean to you anyways. You'll make new friends. You'll make better ones. I did.

And. Trust your friends.

[fjordfolk]

conducting important science on this eve. feel free to supply breed/type

[crazymecjc]

a modern prometheus.

[starboybutler]

something about felix being loud when he cums versus oliver being silent when he cums. felix will moan and cry and thrash about, just lost in it-- meanwhile oliver just gasps and shudders, whole body tense and trembling while he lets out these choked little gasps.

felix always stares at oliver when he cums, so taken by these little noises of his, the way his eyes squeeze shut, the way his mouth drops open, the frantic way he humps up into felix's palm while he spurts cum all over the both of them. he used to wish oliver would scream his name, but now he's content with little gasps and chokes of "felix" as oliver comes undone.

[maxpaulll]

Despite being *incredibly* behind on Redacted videos I still have Redacted thoughts from time to time.

Today? David and Angel who regularly shower together.

Not in the sexual way (okay, maybe sometimes in the sexual way) but in a sweet, domestic way. Washing each other’s backs and just taking care of each other in such a simple way. Just to make sure they’re clean.

Angel in the throes of burnout from work, they /have/ to shower to feel clean and like a person but they can’t bring themself to do anything more than sit under the hot water and evaporate, and David who stands behind them and patiently does their annoyingly long hair-care routine, applying their face wash, and gently spraying them down when he’s done-

David, who’s a wreck after the summer solstice, having Angel gently wash away all the sweat and tension away from the day. They’re massaging shampoo into his scalp as he melts, pressing kisses into his temple and wiping the soap from his eyes as they wash it out.

But it’s not just when they need it most. It’s almost every night (unless someone’s away) sometimes it’s just a weeknight and Angel is chatting about their day, or a late Sunday when David’s pulled an almost-all-nighter and Angel is trying not to fall asleep between the warm water and David’s calming presence.

That’s all vv

[moonjvwon]

I think the way Hyuk is always up in Joowon's personal space is so telling when it comes to their relationship. Han Joowon with his rigid boundaries on being touched and Hyuk who must be Very aware of this but keeps doing it anyway because he knows he can get away with it. And sometimes it bothers Joowon while other times he just lets it happen lol. It screams "I don't like when people do this and I might glare at you for it but I'm also not gonna actively stop you because I guess it's not so bad if it's you" and so Hyuk is always testing how much he can push those boundaries. And then just like with Dongsik there's of course that aspect where Jowoon is like "no touchy >:(" and then proceeds not to keep his own hands off Hyuk in return. It's great

[ferrocyan]

reflection

crescenza told him to take walks.

it'll help him get used to his new body, he said. so tart did, and he didn't make it to the pub before having to return home and keel over from chest pains. he lays crumpled on the lounge sofa. watching the birds of falcon's nest fly under the cover of clouds. behind, father prepares dinner and crescenza brews tea.

the viera man walks over to place a cup before tart. "i didn't mean to say that you should go out today," he says with a soft laugh. "my apologies, young master."

"he should have known better," father says helpfully. tart opens his mouth to reply with a scathing yet witty remark, but all that comes out is a long, drawn out groan.

he opts for the tea instead. crescenza put it just out of reach--when tart extends his arm for it, the pain returns. it travels down the scar on his right shoulder to his chest and into his heart. right where odin had cut him down years ago. he curses, grips the table, and he could swear he hears crescenza laugh again. the bastard.

it was by his magic that tart has gotten a new body. a new face, or rather, his new old face. this is what the boy named orhtus would have grown up to become, had he not chosen to be... tart. or so crescenza assured him. tart wouldn't know the difference, anyhow.

the difference that stuck out, however, was the lack of scars. the magically altered body was pristine. free of the wounds earned from years of adventuring, of hard battles, grave injuries and deaths. it was... unrecognizable. even as he looked at it in the mirror, the body didn't feel like his own.

"i could impose your memories of the scars onto your body, if you'd like," crescenza offered then, "but that means reliving those memories until they take shape. are you certain you want that?"

tart said yes, and he doesn't regret it. but fuck if reopening his scars doesn't hurt like the seventh hell. the tea helps, though. crescenza tends to the herbs himself, enhancing their medicinal effects. tart feels the throbbing in his chest subside.

"thought to visit the see today. wanted to call jandelaine," he said, sulking as he couldn't manage it.

"the hairstylist? do you want a trim?"

"a shave." he'd been thinking of growing his hair out, but the idea suddenly feels insufferable. he wants nothing more than to take a razor and cut it himself, if that wasn't liable to end in more injuries. "'s a real bother now."

"in that case, the master can do it for you," crescenza suggests. "surely you know of his aptitude with the razor!"

tart and father turn to glare at him at the same time, which earns them an innocent beaming smile. father sighs and returns to his cooking. "i don't see why not," he says, and tart is too tired to argue. he says nothing, curling up in the seat until dinner is called.

they eat without much conversation. after the meal tart waits in the washroom while father grabs his tools. he comes with a set of scissors and many razor blades of different sizes.

a question occurs to tart. "do you ever go to a barber?"

"it isn't possible for me to visit one as much as i'd prefer," answers father. "i can manage on my own, there is no need to concern yourself."

tart stops feeling bad for him. "am not."

"how would you have me cut it?"

"short."

"this much?"

"shorter. shorter. yes, that."

tart set himself up across from the mirror in the washroom, and now he watches father's hands on the reflection as he works. starting from the sides, then the back. tart feels him trim the hair thinner towards the nape. he closes his eyes, waits in silence, until the scissors stop.

tart opens his eyes. the job is done, his hair has been mostly shaved off. quite well, at that. but father says nothing. he just stares at his handiwork with an unreadable expression on his face.

"what, something wrong?" tart tilts his head to look up at him.

father says in a low voice, "you look just like he did on the day we met." he says a name, which tart cannot remember long enough to hear. he doesn't need to.

tart inhales shakily, as if the air has been punched out of him. he looks at his own face. if he focuses on one feature at a time, he can see it--but all he sees is father. they have the same eyes, sharp with bright green irises; the same lips, bowed and thin. they look so similar, tart thinks. it's impossible to recall, does he look like dad at all? maybe he would be able to tell if he could see the forest instead of the trees. tart wrenches his eyes closed. how do you see a forest for more than the color green?

father places a hand on the dome of his head, softly petting his hair. "you have his nose," small, upturned, "his jaw," square, "your ears are longer, however. ah, but that reminds me." tart exhales and opens his eyes, just as father procures a bottle of dye from his bag of tools. "it's miqo'te custom to dye the tips of the ears black."

"dad tell you why?"

he snorts. "sure--in his words: 'cause it looks cool, duh!" tart does remember dad's voice, and he does a creepy yet accurate impression of it. he bursts out laughing.

after father applies the dye onto the outer sides of his ears, tart examines his reflection, flicking his ears back and forth. "this does look cool," he concludes, satisfied.

father hands the bottle to him. "keep it. i take it norvrandt doesn't have goods like these?"

"not... really," tart says. "right, i'm going back there."

"you should ask crescenza for his tinctures before you leave, in case anything happens. it wouldn't hurt to be safe."

"yes," tart says, thinking of looking for crescenza right then. he must have pulled a muscle, the pain in his heart is back. "tomorrow, then."

"of course." father has finished putting back his razors, and starts to clean the floor of hair. tart grabs a broom and helps, the two of them working together in silence.

tart curses himself. obviously things wouldn't change in a day. he's never offered to stay, and father would never ask him to do so. he puts away the tools and sighs. has to be you, he thinks. before father leaves the room, tart calls out to him, "papa, tha.. thank you. it's, um. it's great," he says, turning his eyes to the mirror. he doesn't see father's face then, but sees him bow and take his leave.

tart groans as he plants his face to the wall. maybe when he says he doesn't feel well enough to leave tomorrow, it won't have to be a lie.

[caluupin]

nap

[pinkfey]

maybe this is nitpicky but did the blight just stop being infectious

[skelecored]

okay but lu guang would be so casually protective. always the one to walk closest to the road when him and cheng xiaoshi are walking down the sidewalk. always stopping cheng xiaoshi from running into things. making sure cheng xiaoshi doesnt burn his tongue on the tea he just made. he doesnt realize he's doing it and cheng xiaoshi doesn't notice.

[gio-cosmo]