#spoilers for 2.5 event

[generalsdiary]

jiaoqiu actively taking the strongest poison he knows of, for the chance his captor will honor the long tradition of drinking the captured's blood before battle is literally a given sign of him giving up hope. because any single person wouldn't do so if they were hoping to get out, to be saved, rescued, to escape- for him to ACTIVELY DECIDE that he will poison himself is him giving up any chance of getting back alive. and that does things to a person, as much as he was portrayed "alright" in the end, his mental ain't the same like before and no one can convince me otherwise.

he is alone, kidnapped, even let loose to walk around to find information (taunted by it)- unable to seek help, to get a message across, from the literal nightmare fuel foxian parents tell to their kids; and when help does arrive for once the first thing he says is "Moze... run". still protecting others. taking care of moze.

playing this play of lies and trickery, giving away every card in his sleeve for the off chance that his captor may kill him. and he gave up that hope of being saved early on. as early as the green peppers analogy. it is heartbreaking. in his last moments he is grateful that he has bested him, saved feixiao which was his long-term goal and yet he is dying alone, still captured, left in some corner to rot like a fruit gone bad. and then found on the brink of death.

and waking up, alive? well at first I doubt it was a relief for him, because what if he was still with the borisin. what if he wasn't safe. I'm certain moze was beside him but remember he is now blind. he wasn't able to look around and confirm, yeah I'm in this commission and I'm safe. so to go through the literal terror where they treat you less than equal, less than them, fight or flight or freeze for days on end, possible death or worse his friendly companion in every moment and then to actually bring harm upon yourself and on top of it all to thankfully be saved and then to wake up in unfamiliar surroundings with one of your main senses gone. yeah, jiaoqiu isn't the same man he was before this. repercussions he reaps are not light ones.

[almea]

I finished the 2.5 story and I enjoyed it overall, although it didn’t hit me quite as hard as Penacony did. I think maybe that’s something to be expected with a Trailblaze Continuance vs a Trailblaze Mission. I don’t know, I just cried so hard at the end of Penacony, both 2.2 and 2.3, lmao.

Truly my favourite thing is that they seem to be giving Stelle more voice lines during the story that aren't just internal dialogue. It is my dream for them to continue giving her more and more voices lines so she can really be an actual character.

It was a little surprising for me when I realized how little Stelle did in the story though. I think she just went to investigate Stargazer Navalia with Yanqing and Feixiao, found Moze in Exalting Sanctum with them, and then was fighting the borisin in Aurum Alley with Moze. I did like how she mentioned her not being at the Skysplitter to help fight Hoolay when she’s talking with March at the end. It doesn’t bother me a ton when Stelle doesn’t have a lot to do in a specific story, I love how often they used the perspective swapping in the story so we could see what was going on with everyone, because she’s always around so it doesn’t feel too bad if she’s a little out of focus once in a while, but it kind of sucks for Moze that I don't think he got any really big moments since he has less chances to be relevant. I wish they had made him and Stelle finding a nearly dead Jiaoqiu an actual scene instead of just text so we could get a little more out of Moze, but it is what it is.

Jiaoqiu’s little trick with poisoning Hoolay by poisoning himself being foreshadowed with his comment about the green peppers was pretty cool, but I’m curious about whether it was intentional that it could have also been a little foreshadowed in March’s training event last patch since in his route there was some talk of Lingsha’s blood having special properties because of her having consumed so many medicines over the years. idk it was the first think I thought of when I realized what he did.

I've grown pretty fond of Yanqing over the course of the story. He’s just so earnest and I think his childish, competitive side coming out with Yunli is very cute. And I really love the relationship that has developed between him, March, and Yunli. It’s so sweet that Yanqing and Yunli are both so proud of March and she’s also so fond of her two little masters. I really hope we get to continue seeing more of their interactions in the future.

This does not stop me from being like, stay the fuck away from my pulls. He's already at fucking E4 and I still don't have Gepard.

March, Yanqing, and Yunli fighting a berserk Feixiao was soooo good. I really loved Yunli attempting to just fucking grapple her when she's so much smaller than Feixiao. It really adds to her feral cat energy. It’s very sweet, in a weird way, that Feixiao put her faith in these kids and fully believed they would be able to hold her back and keep her from causing too much destruction while she was rampaging. Especially because we later find out that Fu Xuan left Jing Yuan a prediction that they should trust the younger generation.

I thought it was funny that during the story March was like "If I had known we could use other weapons, I would have brought my bow with me" and then she just fucking summons it in the cutscene when they’re fighting Feixiao. Sometimes I think about the logistics behind the way they summon their weapons in cutscenes and I should probably stop trying to make sense of it because it really does seem to be governed by Rule of Cool. Seeing her preservation ult in a cutscene was so fun though. A while ago I was thinking about how cool it would be if was ever a cutscene where Stelle switches between her paths in the middle of a fight by switching her weapon and March ended up getting to do it before her and it was just as cool as I thought it would be.

I loved March just clinging to Feixiao's leg in the cutscene when she regains control of herself. She's just trying her best to help. And I’m just very proud of the three of them for managing to not get fucking obliterated by a general. It was also very cute seeing them support Feixiao and helping her stand. I don’t know, they’re just all good kids and I love them.

I don’t have a really concrete reason for it, but I just really like Feixiao. It may just be my weakness for hot, strong women, but she’s just so cool. I love how strong her resolve is, strong enough that this is the first time in the story that we’ve seen someone other than Stelle draw an Aeon’s gaze, and that she seems as devoted to Jiaoqiu and Moze as they are to her. She also has SUCH cool cutscenes. The one of her using Yukong’s bow to fire a a giant arrow all the way to Aurum Alley because it would have taken to long to get there to help????? Hello???? Who let her be so cool???

I really am looking forward to seeing more of her in the future and this plotline she has of trying to restore Jiaoqiu’s eyesight. And also seeing the repercussions/benefits of her swallowing the crimson moon.

It’s like a little funny to me that Jiaoqiu is blind now just because it doesn’t matter anymore that his eyes are always closed, he wouldn’t be able to see with them open anyways.

When Lingsha was announced and I saw she was a Vidyadhara, I was like. My opinion on her is 100% going to be based on how she treats Bailu because I love Bailu very dearly and every Vidyadhara that’s introduced is going to be judged by whether or not they’re nice to her. So I'm really happy to see that she appears to be very kind to her and Bailu likes her enough to call her sister.

I think it's so sweet that Dan Heng is always asking for Bailu’s opinion. He’s so protective of the rest of the Astral Express crew and it seems like that protectiveness has extended to Bailu and it makes me so happy every time it comes up. I hope they get more into Bailu being sick of being used as a puppet and wanting to leave soon because I too am sick of the way she's disrespected in universe. Let Dan Heng bring her on the Express with him. I would also accept Lingsha protecting Bailu and helping her have more freedom since she’s the new Cauldron Master. I don’t know how much pull she actually has, but I can dream.

I'm so sad that they sent Fu Xuan away to a different ship for this story arc because I miss her!!! Let me see her!!! I still think she had the coolest intro cutscene in the game and I couldn't not love her after that. And because she's been carrying my ass through everything since she's the only limited sustain I have lmao.

God, I am so excited for Ruan Mei potentially being a menace on the Luofu. Like, girl, what have you been up to? Did you do anything fucked up to Tingyun? Aren’t Himeko and Welt supposed to be delivering fossils to you? Why are you on the Luofu? Oh but maybe they’re the ones who brought her to the Luofu. I need answers!

When Tingyun started talking, I was just like, oh no, this is going to be the end of the story for this patch, isn't it? And then it was!!! And next patch is just Rappa, and from her character intro thing I assume we’re going back to Penacony, so who knows when this Tingyun plotline is going to pick up again.

[pbear]

Hey, Hoyoverse, what the fuck are you doing to my boy

[riverin-stories]

carmella fans sound off...

[diamondsnake7]

Sobbing... Sugata/0089 you will always be in my heart

[tumblezwei]

Carmella is such a fun character, I'm really liking the writing of this event so far

[written-and-readen]

Back Home (canon version)

Jiaoqiu x reader (canon version? yeah, I also made this)

Summary: You get to see Jiaoqiu again after the Wardance

Warnings: 2.5 spoilers, don't worry it's not that angsty

a/n: Picture me in my room, sitting on my bed, staring at my phone, crying, and begging a fictional fox man not to die. That's what 2.5 was.

“Jiaoqiu, you have a visitor!” Lingsha enters the infirmary before you. Hearing word that Jiaoqiu was alive after the events of the Wardance had eased the ache of your heart. At the same time, you hated that you could nothing to help rescue him. You were no strategist, much less a warrior. All you could do was wait and hope for his return.

Upon stepping past Lingsha, your eyes glimpse Feixiao giving you a smile and Moze one bed over lying down and staring up at the ceiling. You breathe a sigh of relief the instant you see Jiaoqiu and hurry over to his bedside. Despite your happiness, you still notice the way his eyes shift back and forth, not quite landing on yours.

“Jiaoqiu?” His hand feels around until it finds yours atop the sheets at the edge of the bed. You welcome it into your own, intertwining your fingers.

“How have you been?” He asks with a tilt of his head, and you can’t help the tears that well up, beginning to run down your cheeks.

“Better now that you’re here,” You choke out at hearing his voice again, bringing his hand to your face, “I’m sorry.”

“And what could you possibly have to be sorry for?” His other hand comes up to brush away some of the tears.

“I couldn’t do anything to save you. Feixiao, Moze, Yanqing, the Trailblazers…they all fought so hard, but I could only stand on the sidelines.” You grit your teeth. “And now you’re hurt. I know you’ve lost your vision.” Your hand comes up to hold his face, thumb running under his eye. You’re not sure whether to be sad or angry at knowing those golden irises aren’t actually able to see you.

“Observant as always.” Jiaoqiu smiles as he leans into your touch. “I know you aren’t a fighter, but your worry was enough to get me out of there alive. I knew I just had to get back to you. Now, come here.” He reaches out to pull you into an embrace, nuzzling into your neck. You fall into him, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against his shoulder.

“If I was able, I would’ve slain Hoolay and every other borisin to rescue you,” You murmur, feeling him rub circles on your back.

"I know. If I was able, I would've done the same just to return to you sooner."

[morphodae]

Sun-kissed Flowers On the Open Plains

❈ jiaoqiu x foxian!reader ↳reader is described as feixiao's sister but is not given pronouns; additionally, reader also has no tail and has two different colored eyes due to borisin experimentation "you, feixiao's sister, are a renown Genius Society researcher assigned the task of helping jiaoqiu after the events preceding the wardance on the xianzhou luofu. The only problem is… the general’s trusted retainers have never once heard of you." cw: 2.5 spoilers (utc), feixiao lore spoilers, a bit of slowburn, hurt/comfort, mentions of trauma, etc wc: 3.2k

“Checkmate!”

The foxian tilts his head, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. “General, that would be the wrong game —“

A hiccup interrupts his thoughts, a shaky finger reaching over the game board in an attempt to shush her retainer. “Jiaoqiu,” she slurs, a wine bottle held snugly against her other arm, “vic — victory here is inevitable. And I won fair and square.” Looking at the board, her retainer agrees that Feixiao did indeed win fairly. “So, let’s have another round!”

“As much as I’d love to, General,” he says, hands folded under his chin, “I must remind you, despite your enthusiastic efforts in prolonging it, that you are to meet with a client in less than a system hour.” Smirking, he feels around for the phone in his pocket. While acclimating to the lack of sight, his other senses had improved drastically. 

Feixiao pouts before taking another swig of her wine and setting it down loudly. 

“Plus, I did win a few matches ago,” Jiaoqiu begins, “one of the stipulations of that particular match was you agreeing to tell me of this ‘imminent person’ that you’re meeting with.” As someone who, despite his eyesight, was still tasked with taking care of the General’s daily tasks and meetings, Jiaoqiu was stumped when the report was read to him that an undisclosed meeting was to take place later in the afternoon. Not only that, but Feixiao refused to tell him who the person was. The General was always a free and impulsive spirit, so Jiaoqiu didn’t want to nag too much — the General often did as she pleased despite his protests anyhow — but the thought of a mysterious individual so secretive that even he wasn’t allowed to know… well, he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t worry him.

Feixiao’s silence is deafening. Even the cool breeze surrounding them in the gardens seemed cacophonous compared to the tense atmosphere. A look of determination filled the General’s features, tipsy demeanor seemingly gone, her voice quiet as she speaks. 

“Jiaoqiu,” she begins, “while I still can’t tell you who this person is, I promise they are trustworthy.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she affirms, words as steady as they could be with a good amount of alcohol in her system. A sigh from Jiaoqiu is all she hears in response.

“Alright, General,” he shrugs, “I’ll trust you. I can’t change your mind with this, but you know it’s my duty to vet anyone who might pose a danger to you.”

Another hiccup. “I – if it were a problem, I’d handle it.” “I know, General.” Jiaoqiu rises from his cushion, practiced reflexes fast as he snatches the bottle away from her wobbly hands. “And no more of this. You’ve hardly had anything to eat to offset the effects. What would your guest think seeing the Lacking General lacking in cognition?” Before Feixiao can offer another rebuttal, her phone dings, signaling that Jiaoqiu’s personal assistant was there to escort him back to his office. 

A moment passes when a familiar mop of brown hair belonging to the assistant appears at the entrance; a demure and older foxian who dutifully performed her tasks as Jiaoqiu’s eyes. Feixiao nods in the assistant’s direction before guiding Jiaoqiu to the woman. 

Despite her blurry vision and lingering effects of the wine, she calls out his name before he fully leaves the garden.

“…thank you for looking out for me,” she speaks gently, teal eyes shining with ingenuity and determination. Hidden words unspoken as the pink foxian smiles over his shoulder.

I’ll find a way to cure you, Jiaoqiu. That’s a promise I vow to keep.

────────────

“What strange eyes. Two different colors? Perhaps they’re blind in one of them?”

“Sure, they have heterochromia but have you seen the fact they have no tail? Quite odd. Maybe they were another foxian slave of the borisin.”

The cacophony of voices and whispers as you navigated the confusing streets of the Luofu hardly bothered you. The most pressing concern was ensuring that your directions were accurate, concise, and most of all: timely. Curse your greenhorn lab assistant. Still, you couldn’t quite blame him after all; he was used to the monochromatic layout of Herta’s Space Station and not any of the Xianzhou ships.

Still, it was bothersome to be guided to the Luofu instead of your usual meeting place at Feixiao’s headquarters on the Yaoqing. It was no one’s fault that the Merlin’s Claw had several business meetings with the General of the Luofu.

Not to mention… her incredibly reckless, idiotic, and ridiculous stunt she pulled with the borisin takeover three months ago. You hadn’t seen your younger sister in six months and wanted to strangle her, embrace her, strangle her again, and then revive her just to tell her how stupid she’d been.

A throbbing headache pounds in your temples, a frown twisting your lips. Glancing at the paper in your hand and peering up at the port, you notice that your destination is up ahead. The Seat of Divine Foresight… a rather humorous name for the notoriously lazy General Jing Yuan. You suppose your fellow colleagues in the Genius Society also belonged to eccentric corners of the galaxy.

Approaching the starskiff port, you see no Cloud Knight waiting to escort you to the general’s office. Gazing around, the corner of your vision notices a brief haze of purples and deep blues.

“Excuse me,” you walk up to the figure, a tall man who towers over you, leaning against the side of an empty building, “do you know where any Cloud Knights are currently stationed?”

“...”

The man’s opaque eyes peer down at you, a small scowl that would’ve sent chills down any other person’s spine. Gray strands of hair peek out from under his hood and with arms crossed, he quickly resumes – er, brooding by himself in the corner.

Alright, then.

“Sir,” you speak, tone a bit louder, “I asked you a question.”

A deep, rumbling voice causes your ears to twitch when the man finally responds. “If you are looking for a Cloud Knight, then speak to a Cloud Knight.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes. What a lovely first impression of the people on the Luofu, you muse. But, you quickly shake those thoughts aside. Perhaps he wasn’t keen on speaking to you due to reasons he may have against foxians, or maybe your general lack of socialization was to blame. After all, you were a researcher who spent most of their time holed up in a lab; your people skills and social cues weren’t always the best.

“Fine. Apologies for bothering you, then.”

As your back quickly led further and further out of the assassin’s sight, something tells him to take one more glance at you. Additionally, a soft breeze passes by that carries your scent: a familiar scent that belonged to a certain someone he worked for. 

A lack of a tail, similar foxian appearance… he understood now.

“Wait.”

Keen ears pick up his voice from a brief distance and you turn around hesitantly. He approaches you in long, even strides before his face softens imperceptibly. 

“I can escort you to your meeting.” “You know who I am?”

A hum of acknowledgement.

“Alright. Well, thank you. Then… may I know your name?”

“....Moze.”

────────────

As promised, Moze and two Cloud Knights escort you to a small, private office off to the side within the Seat of Divine Foresight. It isn’t long after the doors close before a mass of pearly white hair obscures your vision. A tight embrace nearly knocks the wind out of you as Feixiao picks you up in an excited hug and spins you around the room.

“Aeons I missed you!” your sister exclaims, nuzzling the side of her face against your own as she’s almost hesitant to let go.

You sigh half-heartedly, fighting the smile on your face. She’d always been the touchier and more expressive of the two of you. “I missed you too, Saran.”

After a brief catching up, Feixiao hands you a copy of medical records that has sat in her care for months. You glance over the contents, ears drooping as each word, each sentence brings an empathic pain to your chest. 

“And this belongs to your retainer, yes?”

Feixiao nods. “Jiaoqiu, yes. He took the brunt of the borisin jailbreak. As you can see…” she trails off, reluctant to recall the events of three months ago, “...he’s not in great shape. The road to his recovery is a long one and he’s too stubborn to admit that anything is wrong.”

“So,” you begin, “he’s the patient you’re hoping I can treat. With all due respect, what makes you think he’d be willing to accept my help? The texts and reports are just as you said: he’s too stubborn to ask for help or admit that anything is seriously wrong.”

“Just call it a… promise.” Her familiar words rang through your brain; the same exact phrase was written to you when she’d first reached out to you for help.

Strong, calloused hands grip your shoulders. “You’re a member of the Genius Society. With your intelligence and history of biomedical breakthroughs, I have faith in my jiě jie to help.”

“He has so much to live for, and I don’t want him to continue throwing his life away,” she adds, her voice a strained whisper. 

Despite your credentials as a Genius Society member, you’d only joined them out of them pressuring you. After escaping the slave camps on Koolur, you and Feixiao were separated after that fateful “shooting star,” and therefore, followed different paths. You’d come across a mentor who showed you how to read, write, learn the common galactic language, and helped nurture your love of knowledge. Decades passed before you were proficient enough to work independently of your late mentor’s guidance. 

Without ever meeting Jiaoqiu, you could tell how much your sister valued her retainer, valued her close relationships. You two were alike in both holding on to loved ones and throwing your own lives away for the greater good.

“Saran – ” you start. You shake off what you’re about to say; it’s no use beginning a lecture that has no point in even starting.

One more somber glance at the medical report in your hand is enough to determine an answer. You made no promises, but you could try.

Trying is all you could do.

“I’ll do it. When will I meet him?”

────────────

“Well, even if my efforts can’t fully restore your eyesight, my goal is to get you to a place where you can see things as best as you can,” you hum, jotting down final notes on your clipboard. “Maybe a pair of exceptionally strong eyeglasses can help, should we get to that point.”

You smile to yourself on instinct. When you peer up to the patient in front of you, Jiaoqiu does not respond, but simply smiles in contentment. These past few weeks of treating him and you’d grown tired of how nonchalant he appeared about his condition. Not only was he “unbothered” by your apparent insistence to help his condition, it was quite clear that he was, in fact, quite against having another person waste their time and resources on him.

I’ve made my decision and am now paying the price for it. I have no regrets. But, if you still insist on doing this, then I suppose I understand. General Feixiao’s orders are absolute, after all.

Those were some of his first words to you at your initial meeting with him. Now, weeks later, he's opened up with endearing facts about his former cooking skills, his medicinal knowledge, and even his adjustment to having almost full blindness. In a way, the foxian was charming enough. Being as introverted as you were, you found it natural to hold a conversation with him.

Continuing to stir the concoction of chemicals on your table, you decide to make small talk to ease the silence. “You know, I’m actually older than I look.” 

You groan at the memory you endured outside of the Alchemy Commission the other day. “In fact, some short-life kids approached me with some leftover candy and referred to me as “Granny.” It was a bit jarring,” you chuckle.

A chuckle. “Is that so? You sound quite young to me. If I may be so bold, how old are you?”

When you give him an age, he merely hums. You continue sharing tailored details of your past, of your time in the Genius Society, as an independent biotech researcher, and of your unusual foxian traits.

“You certainly are sharing quite a bit of yourself with me, considering that you haven’t known me long and that I’m technically your patient,” he chuckles.

You don’t answer right away, a forlorn expression paints itself onto your face. You study the vials in front of you before quietly responding. “No one has ever cared or taken the time to listen.” Though he cannot see your face, the tone of your voice twists at something inside of him. He offers you a genuine smile, hoping all the while that his expression can convey what words cannot. 

You bite your lip out of nervousness.

“Did she —,” you begin, hesitant, “did General Feixiao inform you of who I was?”

Long-life species wearing glasses wasn’t usually unheard of unless it was cosmetic, or in some cases, congenital. In the case of foxians, strong vision was often a common point of pride that they could all find in common. You become distinctly aware of your lack of tail; a point of pride in many foxians. Despite well over a century of acclimating to the odd stares of citizens — not just your tail, but your heterochromatic eye colors too — it became a mere thought that drifted in the wind.

Perhaps you and Jiaoqiu… could have something in common.

Dragged out of your very brief thoughts, a chuckle reverberates deep in the pink foxian’s chest. “Yes?” He tilts his head on instinct, confusion lacing his tone. “The General assigned me a scientist, one of the best in the Xianzhou, to help with the promise she made for me.”

You let out a nearly inaudible sigh. “Jiaoqiu…. The truth is — the real truth is that I am General Feixiao’s sister.”

Hesitantly, you peer up at his face as he sits motionless on your exam table. His jaw slackens, face unreadable as the cogs in his head turn. A small swish of his tail is the only indicator you have that he hasn’t passed out.

“Please say something,” you murmur, deciding to avoid looking in his direction and instead, busying yourself with your chemicals again. When time continues to tick by, eternally slow, you let out a deep sigh. Your ears perk at a brief laugh behind you.

“If you sigh any harder, I might just get blown away.”

Setting aside the herbs you were crushing, you face his direction once again. “Does this… change anything?”

“Hm? Would it change anything for you?”

Another small sigh. “You really do have a way with being cheeky and annoying, don’t you? This has to be the twentieth time we’ve known each other where you answer a question with a question.” Your tone is light, joking. “Jiaoqiu,” you continue,”no, it doesn’t change anything for me. I only wanted to determine if you’d think of me differently.”

Before he can respond, you clarify. “Feixiao hasn’t made my existence public out of fear any enemies could take advantage of it and use it against her. And although she used to insist that she could take any enemy that comes her way if it meant protecting me, it was mostly my idea that I was kept out of the public eye. Besides that, she is a general, and I’m a scientist. We both have different life paths after we were separated as children.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t respond, choosing his words carefully. He reaches out his hand gingerly as if asking for something. “May I?”

Confused, you saunter closer to where his legs are swung over the examination table so that you are standing in between his legs. Once he senses your presence within a reasonable distance, he slowly raises his hands to cup your cheeks. The action causes warmth to flow through your face, eyes widening at his actions. A part of you flinches out of reflex, out of a traumatic memory in which you used to associate touch with negativity, but the tenderness in which the pink-haired man is using almost makes you want to cry.

Delicate, long fingers trace up your cheekbones, to your eyes, lashes, nose… he slowly memorizes the features of your face before sliding up to the fluffy ears on your head. When he hears a sharp, shaky intake of your breath, he reaches back down to the area just below your eyes, lightly thumbing away tears that threaten to spill over.

Another small smile. “Yep, similar to the General’s.” A pause. “The skin under your eyes feels thin. Just how long have you been staying up to help find a fix for my eyes?”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “However long I have to stay up.” A tsk reaches your ears as he continues to caress your face. 

“You asked me if I thought any differently of you… and the truth is, I do.” The corners of his lips frown. “But not because of General Feixiao, or because you have an obligation to “cure” me, but because these past five weeks I've gotten to know an incredibly kind, selfless, and enticing individual.”

A lifetime of torture, betrayal, hardship, and isolation has only made you doubtful of others. Your mentor was dead alongside countless people you used to call friends had passed long before you. You understood grief all too well: the looming threat of Feixiao's curse, of losing her too. You stare deeply into his face, studying the contortions and trying desperately to make out any sort of hidden meaning behind his words. His hands fall back into his lap. In spite of your best judgment, a very touch-starved part of yourself immediately misses his skin on yours.

“So, thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” You blink, confusion lacing your tone. Before you can overthink and retort that you hadn’t made much progress in his vision, Jiaoqiu responds with a short nod. “You have allowed me to feel something other than pain and nightmares.” He bites his lip, hesitating sharing his insecurities with anyone. “That has only ever been accomplished through the use of spicy foods. After my time in the endless throes of war, I thought I’d never have true feelings for anything ever again.”

Blinking rapidly, you fail to notice the nervous swaying of Jiaoqiu’s tail behind him.

He extends his hands again, voice soft as he nearly whispers. “May I?”

You guide his hands back up to your face but he shakes his head no. Instead, he lets one of your hands drop and embraces your hand with both of his. Gingerly, he lifts your hand up to the featherlight touch of his lips before the moment is gone as quickly as it arrived.

The pink-haired healer may not have found a way to heal himself, but he’s sure that in time, your presence will give him the budding hope he’s been yearning for his whole life.

Smiling up in your direction, he gives you gratitude once more for reviving the dead parts of his shattered heart – one fragment, one day at a time.

“Thank you.”

[nighttime-del1rium]

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞❞

ᝰ.ᐟ after the events of the wardance, you and jiaoqiu must figure out how to live a new life

╰┈➤ 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: JIAOQIU X GN READER

╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: Angst with comfort, established relationships, realistic (?) portrayals from reader, HEAVY 2.5 SPOILERS, Jiaoqiu’s pov, PTSD, mentions of blood and gore, reader is/was a healer, reader and jiaoqiu going through it (๑•́ -•̀), if i have to suffer then you have to suffer!

╰┈➤𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.2k

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Soooo who else wanted to commit a crime out of sadness after the 2.5 story quest? (..◜ᴗ◝..) I tried using Chinese words of endearment for this! Putting the prefix “A-“ before someone’s name is an endearment in China! Xin gan is a Chinese endearment meaning “dearest”

When you had heard the news, Jiaoqiu could hear the pure rage in your voice. 

You had shouted at Feixiao with all the rage one could have conjured up, your words bitter and venomous as you had asked her stinging questions more sharper than a wolf’s bite. 

Where were you? Why did you leave Jiaoqiu to rot?

Jiaoqiu could only see darkness now-unfiltered black. But he could still conjure up your image–shining eyes, grinning smile, all the moles and freckles and beauty marks on your skin. He remembers your eyes filled with tears, your face when you were laughing. 

He never saw your anger. 

ᯓ★

You had come back to Jiaoqiu like a wounded pup. He could hear you sniffling, and he offered a sympathetic smile in return as he opened his arms to you. You reached for his embrace, lunging almost as you entered into his warm arms, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. 

“A-Jiao, I’m sorry,” You whispered in his embrace, your words choked and quiet. “I’m sorry.” 

“Xin gan, my darling, the person you should be saying that too is Feixiao, not me.” Jiaoqiu laughed softly. “Your words deeply hurt her,” He added, gently stroking your back. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder, and he winced slightly. “That doesn’t matter. She can heal from words. You can’t heal blindness.”

Jiaoqiu frowned, and as you nuzzled closer he could almost feel the same sentiment. That he could never see Moze, or Feixiao, or you, how he felt almost useless clinging to others for help as he walked, how he almost had cut his finger trying to cook and you had come to bandage it up. He didn’t have to see the pity to know it was there whenever he even talked about the past. The past before Hoolay. The past before he had poisoned himself. The past before he was blind. The past where he could still see your face-

“You can heal anything, as long as you have the determination too, dear.” 

ᯓ★

The first time Jiaoqiu took a bite of your food, he almost gagged. 

The food was too salty, a little bit burnt. He didn’t need eyes to see that you had left the food a little bit too long in the oven, and he smiled despite himself. You always were so scared when it came to cooking. 

“Well? How is it?” You ask expectantly, your voice tense. He could almost feel your eyes scanning his face.

“If you keep hovering over me while I eat, I might get shy,” He cooed. You scoffed, and he could imagine your annoyed, yet flustered, face as you grumbled something about “Foxians and their charming tongues.” 

“It could use more spice,” He hummed. “But it’s good.” A blatant lie, he thinks as he crunches on the burnt part of his food. He should have given you cooking lessons before-

-before Hoolay. 

He pushes away the thought of Hoolay-the thought of growling and clashing teeth and blood and blood and blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood-

  “You and your spices,” you grumble. “Well then, that’s noted. Next time I'll drown the dish in chili peppers, A-Jiao.”

“Of course, xin gan.” 

ᯓ★

You and Jiaoqiu had met on the battlefield. 

You were a new healer, fresh from the academy and all quivering words and wide eyes. You had been taught the art of medicine. But the art of blood, battle, and despair? No healer was ever prepared for that. 

Maybe the love had sparked when your hands-both bloody from gore and intestine-grazed each other while you operated over a screaming soldier. Your eyes had met for a fraction of a second, his eyes gold and sly, and yours filled with uncertainty, before you picked up the scalpel and operated on the soldier with no anesthesia. 

Maybe the love had sparked when he was drunk on wine and you were drunk on life and you both had confided to each other the horrors you had seen. He had uttered every secret he ever had-and you in return gave yours. 

Maybe the love had sparked on a mundane, boring day where he went grocery shopping and you had accompanied him. You were bored and had teased him all day, and for the first time in a while Jiaoqiu forgot about the blood and gore. 

All he was focused on was your smile, bright and beaming. 

ᯓ★ 

Jiaoqiu loves curling into your arms during the night. 

Your warmth, the way you threaded your hands into his air. The way you kissed him all over the cheeks and the way you giggled when he did the same. 

You were like his missing puzzle piece. A fond scar that held cherished memories. When nights were too cold, you and him would spend all night reminiscing or gazing up at the stars. 

It’s always night for Jiaoqiu now, but without the stars. 

You chatter all night, talking about this thing and that. “Tell me about that boy-Yanqing! Does he really live up to stories of him being the Divine Foresight’s young lieutenant?” You ask, eager for Jiaoqiu’s response. 

He nods thoughtfully, humming as he murmurs, “He’s also the Divine Foresight’s favorite. One would mistake him for the general’s son instead.” 

He can feel your hands touch his waist, feel your breath on the nape of your neck. Your chin props onto his shoulders, and Jiaoqiu’s hand reaches for your own. 

“Do you...regret it?” 

“What?” Jiaoqiu asks, his tone surprised. What were you talking about? 

You gulp, before squeezing his hand. “Nevermind…forget it.” 

“Well, now you can’t just say that when you sparked my curiosity,  xin gan. Do I regret what?” Jiaoqiu says, his voice slightly shaking. Jiaoqiu’s regrets have always numbered that of the stars in the sky. He has come to peace with many of them–but not one. 

“P…poisoning yourself.” You almost whisper, your hand breaking free from his grip and instead cradling his face. “You never said anything to the Merlin’s Claw, but then again you hardly ever say what you're feeling–It’s not healthy to hide your emotions-” 

You ramble and Jiaoqiu listens. 

You ramble and Jiaoqiu remembers the utter relief he felt when he heard Moze’s voice. The relief he felt when Feixiao had told him Hoolay was dead, gone with not a single tuft of fur left. Yet he also remembers the bitter regret. That he blinded himself and now he must live with it. That he can't see you or Feixiao or Moze’s face. That he can’t see your smile. 

He sighs, and turns to face you. You startle, and he can imagine your wide eyes as he presses his forehead with yours. 

“Do you remember what I told you, xin gan?” 

You're silent for a bit, going through your memories before saying, “You can heal anything, as long as you have the determination too?” 

He smiles, kissing your nose. “And if my blindness can’t be healed, then I’ll live with it. I can bear through anything, my dear, as long as you're with me.”

He can hear the tell-tale sign of you crying, and he fumbles to caress your tears away. 

Besides, he didn’t need his eyes to see the most important thing in his life–your love.

© NIGHTTIME-DEL1RIUM: you do not have the permission to use, translate, or put my works into ai without my consent.

[dernier-mystere]

! SPOILER WARNING FOR 2.5 UPDATE! READ WITH CAUTION ! summary: the yaoqing trio returns back to the yaoqing, though things are a little different, being an alchemist in the alchemy commission, you receive the instructions and diagnosis from the cauldron master of the luofu, lingsha, about jiaoqiu's condition and what needs to be prepared for him and his treatment plan. despite being someone who worked a few times with the healer, you find yourself assigning treatments to him for once, despite his stubbornness and negligence when it came to his own health. pairing: jiaoqiu x alchemist!foxian!reader (afab) warnings: slight gore, injury descriptions word count: 3.4k a/n: how are we feeling jiaoqiu fans? a mess? :,) me too <3 so we need some comfort yes <3 the idea is based on an idea oc that was an alchemist and as the xianzhou yaoqing is mostly foxians, it makes sense right? hope you enjoy it <3 sorry for the medicinal rambling too! sorry if this may seem ooc, I feel so rusty with writing these days... ^^; I plan to write some proper fluff, I apologise this isn't lovey dovey, if anyone has suggestions please send them please support me by following or sharing! it's much appreciated! <3 twitter/x: @derniermystere ao3: Dernier_Mystere

The diagnosis was almost painful to read, you knew the trio was reckless, and a part of you thought it would be the Merlin’s Claw that would come back with the injuries, not Jiaoqiu. Even Moze who lingered in the shadow of the General had his incident report of injuries, most of the events that had occurred on the Luofu remained on the hush, so unfortunately, it left you and numerous other healers in great distress when the commission received the outpatient details and care instructions for the pink-haired foxian. Toxins in the wounds have caused surrounding flesh to decay and atrophy… acute shock from severe blood loss…? Disturbed blood circulation from Tumbledust results in disturbed blood circulation, massive internal bleeding, neurological atrophy and optic neuropathy, leading to… blindness. These were just a few lines written in his injury reports, you felt your eyelids flicker in concern at the words, each description made your lips crease further into a frown, your heart wavering as you could only imagine the pain he would’ve struggled with in that short period, not only ingesting a lethal amount of Tumbleweed but also baring the injuries sustained by the Borisin Warhead, Hoolay. Not to mention there were found traces of Lupotoxin still present in his bloodstream, in short, he danced on the thin line between life and death, a second too late, and he would have died an agonising death.

As you sat in the cool room of your examination office, the rhythmic ticker a counterpoint to the steady hum of the medical equipment in the room still trying to convince yourself how Jiaoqiu remained in such good spirits, and oddly with a good appetite despite his situation… his calmness and sly exterior made you fear the worse, after all, he hid a lot of his emotions, using his fox-like smile as a mask to pretend all was fine, even if inside he could have been begging for a semblance of hope. Your e/c gaze flickered up to the Foxian who hummed softly, sitting on the examination table with a Gaiwan* in his hands, as he curiously took in a whiff of the scent of the tea, swirling it occasionally in his hand as he tried to depict what herbs were in it. “Not much to say honestly, I feel quite fine besides the fact, I have been told not to eat spicy food… it’s truly a torturous treatment,” his voice was calm, yet the mention of not being allowed to eat his favourite food made him click his tongue, one of his long ears flicking in annoyance, “But, other than that, I am quite alright,” 

Your eyes squinted as you observed him talking to the pot plant in the corner of your examination room while you were seated on the other side of him, yet… you felt your insides soften that, he was still adjusting to his new condition after all. “Master Jiaoqiu, you know ingesting amounts of spicy food will only increase inflammation of your wounds.” You spoke softly, choosing not to comment further that he was talking to the plant rather than yourself. Jiaoqiu’s ears flicked in your direction rapidly, as he quickly adjusted himself to face the direction your voice came from, acting as if he knew the whole time you were seated there, it made you softly giggle in amusement as you slowly lit a stick of Dreambranch Incense in the office, in hopes of providing calmness to the mind during his routine follow up examination.  

“You always say you’re quite alright to avoid unnecessary long appointments, who dropped you off today? Was it the Merlin’s Claw or Moze?” You teased, prepping the small station beside him with all the necessary tools and treatment needs. Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked in annoyance as he crossed his arms, followed by a tiny pout on his lips, “I will have you know, no one dropped me off, Thank you.” His tone was almost childish and petty, “I came as instructed by the Cauldron Master of the Luofu, nothing more than a routine check-up.” He clarified, yet the creases in his brows seemed to convince you further that someone made him actually arrive at his scheduled appointment. “For a healer, Master Jiaoqiu… you should always look after yourself before treating others.” You commented, your fluffy tail swaying behind you in amusement as you spoke, enjoying the small amount of petty banter with the Foxian healer who had left the field a while ago now. Being a long-life species, a mere few years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, but when one formed friendships or any kind of relationship when they left or moved on, it felt as if they had left for centuries, this was no different to Jiaoqiu. His sassy nature and his usual greeting with a cunning smile were oddly something you missed, but deep down, you knew the losses on the battlefield tore and ate away at his heart, leaving nothing but emptiness, a path of Nihility to creep in. Some days, you found yourself sitting on the stairs of the commission, looking at the fake night sky of the Yaoqing, wondering if your research and treatments meant really nothing in the end. Countless patients slipped between your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to grab the delicate granules, it would still slip through. The many nights where you prayed to Lan or any aeon to hear your pleas and silent begs to help a young patient that was slowly succumbing to the effects of Mara, the way their limbs twisted un-naturally, root-like appendages growing from his body like a deformity as they slowly lost their mind day-by-day, yet none of them cast their gaze on you or your pleads… they always replied in a numbing silence. You felt his pain… you sympathised with his feelings for those who were lost in battle… You could treat a thousand patients, but what was the point if they returned to the battlefield and lost their lives in the end… was their sacrifice in vain? These were the many questions that went through your mind on a daily, and something you assumed most alchemists thought. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you shook your head to dismiss the darkening thoughts, you forced yourself to read over the letter submitted by Lingsha. As written in his treatment plan, you were to clean his wounds with Pathovore bugs, before applying liberal amounts of medication and dress them up firmly. As well as take a deeper examination of his blindness and relay any suggestions to her for possible treatments of his blindness. “Well, I know you want this to be done quickly, so I will start with the treatment of the wounds, Master Jiaoqiu, then if possible, I would like to examine your eyes…?” You asked hesitantly, your h/c ears pinning back against your head as you cautiously asked him, you honestly didn’t know why you were nervous, it was your job… but he had only recently just lost his vision, was it a touchy subject? Or maybe would flat-out refuse and say it was nothing.  

Jiaoqiu simply remained silent as he continued to hold on to the delicate clay cup, he gave the tea one last sip before he gently pressed the edge of his hand along the surface of the table to confirm he could safely place his cup upon it, “Why are you concerned, Y/N? it’s your job after all. Do what you need. For once, I am simply the patient, and you’re my healer now, are you not?” He spoke up, turning to face in your direction, though you could hear the slight hesitation laced in the last few syllables of his words but you slowly nodded in reply, not that he could see it. 

The initial examination was rather simple, you had to look over his wounds, the deep lacerations on his chest, the state of his collarbone, checking him for any signs of Lycanthropic symptoms which came in the forms of excessive hair growth, elongation of the canine teeth, hostility (namely to Foxians) and a heightened increase of Lupitoxin which are evident in a blood rage. Further examination of his red blood cell, Platelets and the protein count in his plasma, to gauge how well his blood would coagulate over time, while the effects of consuming Tumbledust has significantly lowered the count, he was slowly making progress as there were some improvements. While it wasn’t much, it was better than none… 

“So far, you seem to be on the road of recovering… slow, but I am sure we can get there eventually, there has been a minimal increase in your plasma counts, and platelets, but not much to say you can return to handling sharp objects… I am hoping you’re not, Master Jiaoqiu, and you have no signs of Lycanthropy so that rules out any further conclusion of you becoming a borisin.” You explained, all while scribbling on his patient forms that would be sent back to Cauldron master Lingsha, and further approval by Head Alchemist on the Yaoqing, Yingyue. “With this, I would like you to be placed on a higher dose of anti-inflammatories, to help reduce the swelling in your wounds. That, or need I remind you that you are not to ingest spicy foods, Master Jiaoqiu.” You slowly raised a brow at him as he turned to you, pulling out his fan that was underneath his alchemy commission uniform that he had removed so you could treat his injuries. He delicately fanned himself a few times, before hiding his lips behind the coloured feathers. 

“I would never betray the doctors’ words, no knives or spicy food here. Are you insinuating that your patient ingested spicy foods? Y/N you wound me… I would never,” He stated with a cunning smile pulling at his lips behind that fan, his tail swaying behind him as he took in the results of his examination. “But is it really my fault that Moze had hotpot, I couldn’t turn down such a request, even Feixiao was there.” He soon added, nodding his head innocently as his ears twitched in your direction. 

“So you did have Spicy food, is that what you're telling me?” You pressed, raising a brow as he kept fanning himself, concealing his smile. 

“I never said that, I just said that Moze might have offered it to me. But as such a good patient, I never touched a drop. I instead had to sit and watch my so-called friends enjoy a hotpot in front of me, it was quite cruel, really…” His fluffy ears drooped down, as he dramatically acted as if it had taken a toll on him that he couldn’t have some. Your expression fell into a deadpanned glare as he kept innocently fanning himself, humming all innocently, you knew that this sly foxian had made the hotpot himself and threw the blame at Moze to get off any kind of lecture. You feigned a sigh in defeat as you allowed him to win at his little game, “Alright, whatever the patient says… but know your slight increase of white blood cells, and redness on your laceration tells me otherwise,” You simply pointed out as you began working on removing the now loosened bandages around his shoulders and chest, you had seen your fair share of injuries and wounds, but the deep claw marks along his chest with lingering parts of decaying flesh seemed to leave a deep pang in your heart… reading about his injuries were bad enough, but seeing them in person was just as bad. 

The audacity he had as he simply hummed in reply and with a nonchalant shrug, “I have no idea what you’re insinuating here, doctor,” He added, placing his fan down to reveal that sly fox-like grin, as he lifted his head proudly, more so that you could work on his wounds better. But upon sensing your concern with his wounds, Jiaoqiu slowly fell into silence as he turned away, “This is nothing. I can handle this, there is no need to look at me with… pity.” 

You felt an all-familiar annoyance stir inside you as if small flicking flames lapped at the insides of your chest as your movements slowed down, “It isn’t pity… it was concern Jiaoqiu when the incident reports were handed to us, it was worrying… especially when there was no news or context from the Luofu. I knew something was covered up, and it involved Hoolay, something for sure went wrong… it may not be my place to ask what happened, but… You shouldn’t bare yourself to a wolf's fangs… and ingest Tumbleweed… even if you had a plan.” you whispered, gripping the bundle of bandages in your hands that you had removed, “You could have died, then what-” 

“I would have died fulfilled and content, Y/N.” He cut her off, a heavy sigh ruminating from his chest as he still refused to face you entirely, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he refused to accept your concern for him. 

“Would you really say that?” You pressed, your shoulders slouching as you continued to remove the last of the bandages to fully observe the wound in its entirety. Yet unlike before, you weren’t phased, instead, your heart simply felt like it was crumbling at his words. However, Jiaoqiu remained silent when you pressed him, his ears folding back a tad, it was a sign that you were right in some way. Despite the deafening silence, you continued to work on him, applying the Pathovore Bugs onto the rotting parts of his wounds, all while she delicately ran her scalpel over the unhealthy flesh to promote excess skin growth. Jiaoqiu grunted softly, leaning back onto his arms as he tried to push himself through the uncomfortable sensation, he didn’t want to be seen as weak or vulnerable, even though he was the one knocking on death's door. Yet his stubbornness to admit anything or the fact that for once he required treatment was unyielding, even when he was in pain. 

The silence continued to hover between them, once playful banter turned to a darkened cloud of tension, but, Jiaoqiu managed to face Y/N once more, parting his lips as he tried to find the words to say something, “Why do you care so much. Don’t they say laying your life out on the path of the hunt is a blessing…?” He managed to whisper out, his voice almost weak and one could even say vulnerable. Y/N glanced up, but unlike the look of annoyance or a frown, she offered him a compassionate gaze, “We are both healers, different kinds sure, but in the end, we are here to help those in need. I know you have lost many patients, as have I… I may not have been through or seen what you have on the Front Lines… but we share the same burdens of what we do is the right thing…” Your voice was soft, yet anyone could hear the way your words seemed to break through the ragged breaths you took in as you tried to formulate each word with sincerity, “But… we… no, you shouldn’t allow yourself to go through such measures… General Feixiao is already strong on her own, and your patient can only go as far as they can if their healer is also healthy, I have seen too many people die over nothing to claim they did so in the name of The Hunt… but it felt like they were throwing themselves away.” 

You gently removed the bugs, placing them in a glass beaker as you kept talking, “As I said… I don’t know what happened on the Luofu… but I know, you shouldn’t have risked yourself at such a high stake. There is always an alternative, another way to do things, picking the dangerous path isn’t always the right way.” You whispered, head now falling downwards as your ears drooped once more. You had seen so many soldiers come back from the battlefields injured and proclaiming proudly that if they died, they did so for The Aeon Lan, but, it more so felt like they were throwing themselves at the denizens of Abundance without another thought of a better strategy. Y/N slowly bit on her bottom lip as she continued with the treatment by applying liberal amounts of the ointment onto his wounds, before securely wrapping them up in bandages. 

During the quiet moment as Y/N worked, Jiaoqiu found himself sighing once more, shaking his head as his expression softened slightly to that of contentment. “You might have been right, I could have found another way… but I made it, did I not?” He replied in a lighter tone, even if you swatted his side with the flick of your fluffy tail, “You’re just as reckless as the Merlin’s Claw, she is rubbing off on you. You know… there would be a lot of people upset if you had died… I am sure even Moze would be upset in his way… you may have been fulfilled as you say, but what about the others that care for you?” you added, making sure that each one of his wounds was fully covered, before you soon sat back in your chair, your mind also wanted to add ‘what about me?’ yet, you didn’t. The Foxian offered you a sad smile, as he turned to the direction of the pot plant, “You’re not wrong, Y/N.” He reluctantly whispered, his voice holding a sense of vulnerability yet again, each word spoken like a prayer, with an ear twitch he turned back to you, this time with a more genuine smile.

“I am sure you would have been deeply hurt. To think during your training you said you hated me and my spicy food you could smell from a mile away…” His demeanour shifted to his usual self, sly and jabbing, which seemed to stir you up, evident as your tail swished around in annoyance as you finished up with his wounds, giving him the space he needed to change back into his clothes. “Stop being snarky… you seriously need to take better care of yourself.” You huffed as you turned to clean your instruments, all while he resumed fanning his delicate face once more, his soft pink hair flowing with each motion of his fan as he continued that same mocking smile. “I know. I can’t promise anything.” He hummed, for once he spoke truthfully, “But, I will do my best, I have no guarantees.” 

“That's all I wanted to hear, Jiaoqiu.” Your shoulders eased up and relaxed at his words, her heart feeling ever so lighter. 

“You know, you dropped the formalities halfway, this is quite intimate, Y/N, I am almost flattered, after many years and now you call me by my name and not Master Jiaoqiu,” As usual he tried his best to get under your skin, still calmly fanning himself. He expected you to retaliate or shoot back another snarky comment, yet you did something that surprised him… You gently hugged him, wrapping your arms around his lower torso to avoid touching his wound, as much as he wanted to open his eyes in surprise, the Foxian instead felt his expression melt into a soft fondness, one that wasn’t all that often seen. “You were that worried?” He finally admitted, moving one of his hands to delicately brush against your back soothingly. 

“Just promise me you will be more careful next time,” you whispered faintly, near one of his long ears that twitched at your words, his tail swaying side-to-side. 

“I can’t guarantee anything… but, if I get hugged like this, I might consider it.” He purred, still fanning the two of you with his fan, blissfully unaware of the edge of the fan catching a lit with the sizzling of fire lapping at the tips. Jiaoqiu quickly moved the fan to stop the fire from continuing with a silent huff of annoyance, “Maybe we could even go for some hotpot sometime?” 

You wanted to say he wasn’t allowed spicy food, but you were content from his words, you simply hoped that one day, he would take your words to heart, if not for your own sake, but maybe for those that were close to him…

[generalsdiary]

so dan heng got the memories of his prev incarnation forced on him. and later he himself claims that in some way by doing so one would stay the same person.

dan heng has much more of dan feng than we originally thought

[rewuyuu]

i should be asleep but i really need to rant about something

hsr 2.5 spoilers

i love the game and the story, but the writing of luocha's storyline so far really bothers me

we waited almost a whole year for him to show up in the story again only to have the entire interrogation done offscreen. the question of 'what's in the coffin' was teased for so long, yet the reveal was done in the worst way possible (summed up in one line told by another character). i would be less upset if we at least got a proper cutscene of the entire reveal, even if it was a short one

maybe we will get a proper retelling of events in the future? that would be nice, but it would also be sad the reveal would be less impactful since we already know about it

this is something else that confuses me. when did jing yuan speculate that? he was the one who accused luocha and jingliu of planting the stellaron from the start. i don't doubt it's something luocha would lie about, but this seems very inconsistent with the storyline we had so far

forgive me if i'm misremembering it, it's been a while and i haven't had the chance to rewatch the old scenes yet so i'm just rambling incoherently because i cannot sleep

it really hurts to see my fave char treated like this

[shycoconutt]

The Fallout

pairings: gojo satoru x reader (gojo pov)

synopsis: your best friend, gojo satoru, comes back from a mission to find out that nanami kento has resigned from being a sorcerer and has left you.

content: (2.5 k), SFW, comfort, fluff, and whole lot of angst. ex-boyfriend? nanami, best friend gojo, and brother geto. contains jjk anime spoilers.

a/n: and here we have the ripple effect series! this is the aftermath of this fic. i’m going to continuing writing this story over time so strap in y’all! staying away from chapters as we'll be jumping around the timeline.

<3

Although he would never be quick to admit it, Gojo Satoru loves being home. Even with all of the memories that flood his mind as he walks through familiar spaces — hallways, classrooms, the gymnasium, the sparing field, the courtyard — many are all too painful to think about for too long, but he can’t help but indulge in the familiarity. Satoru is not quite sure if he has ‘loved-ones’, but the people that are close to him, those that could potentially fill that void, he knows are here at Jujutsu Tech.

On his way home from a week-long mission, Satoru knew who to look for first, as he owed two specific sorcerers a very happy graduation. He didn’t know how exactly he was going to go about it at first. Obviously he would try to give Nanami a hug, no wait, maybe he will leap into his arms and shower his face with kisses. No, he wouldn’t be able to get that far before Nanami shoves him off. Maybe he shouldn’t scare him off, as it was highly likely that Nanami would become his right-hand man.

You, on the other hand, were a little different. Satoru couldn’t help but think about you every moment he was gone, as he couldn’t shake the guilt of him, your best friend, not being there for your graduation ceremony. The moment the mission paperwork was placed on his desk, he cursed the higher-ups for being so careless. The smile you gave him in reassurance that you understood only made him feel worse.

Making his way inside the main building, Satoru can’t help but notice the lack of cursed energy around. He feels you somewhere in the distance, in your dorm maybe? Are you alone?

He feels the familiar cursed energy of another quickly approaching, and turns to give Yaga a quick wave and a smile as he turns around the corner. Although Satoru’s eyes are currently covered in white wrapping, his six eyes allow him to see Yaga’s puzzled expression clearly.

“Gojo,” Yaga approaches him quickly, and Satoru begins to worry that he’s going to be sent out on a mission just as quickly as he returned, “you’re back, good.”

“What is it?” Satoru is worried, but his tone doesn’t reveal it, “You sound more serious than usual, I didn’t know that was possible.”

Satoru notices the way Yaga nervously pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and how his eyes are focused on the wood floor beneath their feet. Whatever this is, it’s not good.

“Some… events have transpired since you’ve been gone,” he starts, “have you heard the news?”

“I-uh.. no, I haven’t.” What on earth could this be about now? Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, a terrible thought crossing his mind, “Everyone is okay right?”

“Everyone is safe, Satoru, don’t worry about that.”

Satoru notices how he replaces the word okay with safe.

“I’m surprised she didn’t contact you,” Yaga begins, “I’m afraid I have some news about what transpired after graduation.”

Satoru stays silent, letting him continue.

Scratching the back of his head, Yaga lets out a deep sigh before speaking, “Nanami Kento has resigned. He is no longer a sorcerer and has vowed to not use any cursed energy any longer. He had a meeting with me before the ceremony, said that he would graduate, but his time with us would end there. He’s going to return to… normal life. We were told to not try and contact him, which includes you, Gojo.”

Instinctually, Satoru unravels the wrapping around his eyes, needing to be able to see everything, to absorb all the information. This couldn’t be.

He first looks for Nanami. No, he’s not here on campus, he’s somewhere else, he’s in… Kabutocho?

His eyes shift to you, pinpointing you more directly than he did before. Yes, you’re here. In your room, on your bed, in the fetal position, alone.

Alone.

Satoru feels a familiar pang in his chest. His grip tightens around the white fabric in his grasp, threatening to stain red.

Him. Yaga. In the hallway. A decision made without him, without considering what he’d have to say. What he could’ve done to make it better. How he could’ve helped. How he could have made him stay. Why didn’t he stay?

“I’m sorry, Gojo, but it was his decision, and he has the right to have the final say over his own life.” Yaga’s words are softer, trying to calm him down.

“To hell he does!”

-

Satoru slowly makes his way to your room, taking his time to gather his thoughts, not exactly sure what he plans to say to you. He tries to think back to before, the days and weeks after Suguru left. That situation was much different, so many layers, so many people affected by the loss. Although it’s hard to imagine, if anyone was hurt more than himself by Suguru's actions, it was you.

It was so much worse for you.

Suguru Geto, in an act of self righteousness, slaughtered his own parents, who were your own parents. A brother and sister who once shared the same home, the same beliefs and sentiments, the same blood, only to have one betray the other in one of the worst ways imaginable.

You tried to stop him, but you were weak then. When they found you, you were sprawled out on the floor unconscious in a pool of your parents blood. All of your limbs were broken, and you had severe head trauma. The only reason why you were still alive was because you were a sorcerer. Suguru would have finished the job otherwise.

When Satoru heard the news, and confronted Suguru on the street that day, all he had to say about the state he left you in had Satoru reeling.

“She’s a damn fool.”

Shoko spent days healing you, and you were in recovery for weeks. Satoru would visit, but no words would be exchanged. You already knew what the other was thinking. From then on, Satoru vowed to always take care of you, but he didn’t anticipate how close you two would become in the process.

Maybe it was a trauma bond, maybe it was just growing up, either way, he cherishes your friendship completely. You were like Suguru in so many ways, all of the good ones at least.

That’s probably why he was so quick to notice the way Nanami would look at you, the way he would act around you. How every word spoken to you was underlined with want. Much like the way he himself would act around Suguru.

So why? Why the hell would he leave you too?

Finally, he makes it to your door. Not sensing any movement, he figures it’s best to let himself in quietly.

It’s midday, but the room is so dark. Your curtains are drawn and the lights are off. Just a small sliver of light makes its way through, the line resting over your body on the bed in the corner of your room and up the wall of posters. Your eyes are closed, but Satoru’s gut tells him you’re not sleeping.

He steps closer, letting the door close behind him with a faint click. That’s when your eyes quickly snap open to find Satoru at the end of your bed.

Your eyes are bloodshot. There are black smudges over your eyelids, makeup probably. Your hair is a mess. And you're wearing… a dress?

Oh. Oh darling. It’s been days.

Satoru can’t help the way his head tilts to the side when he meets your gaze.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, trying his best not to let his despair for you seep through.

That’s when he sees it, the accumulation of the past three days, and maybe even a bit of your past, boils and bubbles out of you.

“Toru,” your nickname for him falls from your mouth in a gasp, then you start to sob. He watches as you curl into yourself more, gripping your sheets tighter to your chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Satoru moves around the bed and leans over you, fingers brushing the hair from your face to get a better look, “shhhhhhhhhh, hey, shhhhh, it’s alright, it’s going to be okay.”

His heart breaks for you. This world, being a sorcerer, is often so cruel. He just doesn’t understand why it always has to be you on the receiving end.

Satoru watches as you look up to meet his concerned stare, and he can’t help but notice how similar you two look. It’s not specifically your features that remind him of Suguru, it’s how you try so hard to hide your emotions behind your usual calm facade. When his eyes meet yours, he can tell how hard you're trying to shove your pain back inside you. For who’s sake? He’s still unsure.

Satoru was too dumb, too caught up in ensuring he became ‘the greatest’ to notice how far Suguru had fallen from grace. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Kneeling down on the floor of your bedside, he rests his head on the mattress, face inches from yours. His fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks in your eyes.

“Yaga told me what happened,” he starts, “I wish you would have called me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just got back not too long ago, I was expecting to find you two together.”

Finally, you speak again.

“Did he… did he say anything to you about leaving?” Your eyes leave Satoru’s as you ask this, probably afraid of what you might hear. Gojo smiles internally at the way you begin to fiddle with the end of his sleeve.

“No,” Satoru’s tone is unwavering, “he never said anything to me about leaving. I’m led to believe that this is a decision he made in his mind not too long ago.”

Satoru and Nanami were not close, per se. But Satoru knows him to be a good man, and he would have never strung you along like this if he knew he was leaving from the jump.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

He watches as your body relaxes a little, sinking deeper into your mattress. He knows that you’re probably not ready to talk about everything just yet, and that’s more than okay. What wasn’t okay was that state you’re in right now.

“I know this is the last thing you want to do, but how about I take you to the showers?” His hand comes up from the ends of your hair to cradle the top of your head.

“Do I really smell that bad?” you fake pout. Your lips curl up just enough to relieve just a little of Satoru’s worries.

“Ha, no, I just think it would make you feel better.”

“Hm, yeah okay.”

Satoru gives you space as you rise up from bed, walking to your drawers to pull out some new clothes to wear. He notices how you dig far down into the drawer, obviously looking for something specific. His heart sinks when you pull out a familiar pair of large black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

How strange that we still find comfort in those who have hurt us the most.

Satoru walks with you to the communal showers, leading you just a step ahead with his hands in his pockets. His head hurts a little from having his blindfold off for so long, but he doesn’t want to put it on just yet. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know that you have the floor to be vulnerable with him, to look him in the eyes and know you have his undivided attention.

Satoru hears you softly clear your throat before speaking.

“What are you going to do now?” you ask timidly.

Please don’t leave me yet. That’s what Satoru knows you really mean.

He thinks for a moment.

“Well since I just got back, I think I’ll have a quick shower as well, get this curse stench off of me. Then, I'm going to take Megumi and Tsumiki out to dinner since I haven’t seen them in a week. Probably check up on their place too, restock the fridge and whatnot.”

Satoru watches as you shift in your stance a little, hugging your fresh clothes to your chest.

“Of course, they will want to see you. If you’re up for it.”

Your face lights up, just a little. Good.

The kids, especially Megumi, are absolutely smitten with you. Ever since Satoru told you that he became the benefactor of two young kids, one to be sold off to the Zenin, you asked him if you could tag along to visit them.

Saying yes was the best thing he’d ever done, because he quickly realized that he’s kind of a terrible parental figure. He handles the finances and the fun, you take care of everything else. You help them with their homework, brush their hair, pick out their clothes, cuddle them, read them stories, teach them how to cook, and so much more. Although you both are relatively young yourselves, you’re like their parents.

Heck, after this, Satoru thinks it might be best to get you out of living at Jujutsu High. He’ll buy a house for you and the kids, so you can all be together. Yeah, it might be weird in the future if you bring a romantic interest home, but you can cross that bridge when you get there.

“Yeah, I want to see them. It will help take my mind off things.”

“Then it’s settled,” Satoru playfully claps his hands together, “we’ll hit the showers, change, and head out of here.”

Satoru turns on his heels, but before he starts to walk away, he feels you grab him by the elbow. Turning his head back at you with a confused look, your eyes are shield by the hair fallen in front of your face. In one swift movement, you’re hugging him from behind, one arm wrapped around his torso, holding him close.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket.

Satoru places his hand over yours.

“I’ll always be here for you, sweets.”

-

Both of you walk together in matching sweats, owned by the man who once was the only thing you had in common, towards the apartment. It is late afternoon, the sun now behind the mountains to the west. It’s warm with a light breeze in the air. If circumstances weren’t as they were, you’d be so happy right now.

The silence was nice, comforting. You look over to watch Satoru’s hair ruffle in the breeze, getting a whiff of his sickly, sugary-scented vanilla shampoo.

It crosses your mind for a moment how thankful you are that he’s here with you right now. Without him, you’d still be rotting in bed, picturing the back of Nanami’s head as he walked away from you in the courtyard that day.

Nanami.

Your heart lurches a little. You bring your hand up to your chest, clutching the fabric there.

As if on cue, you feel Satoru’s arm sling over your shoulders, holding you closer to him as you walk side by side.

Right, Satoru’s here and you’re content.

Content is all you need.

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

A deep dive into Zevlor's devotion (Part 3) Zevlor's actions during Act 1, an analysis of a man who is barely holding on:

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BG3.

These series of posts were originally one loooooong post— but apparently Tumblr has a character limit, and I found it; so now it's been split into several parts/posts.

(Part 1) Everybody hates tieflings, and how discrimination impacted a young Zevlor.

(Part 2) Elturel's history and culture, the Hellriders, and Zevlor's paladin oath. (Part 2.5)

((Part 3, this post, is where the meat a good chunk of my Zevlor analysis is.))

(Part 4) Zevlor's actions during Act 2, an analysis of a broken man.

(Part 5) Zevlor's actions during Act 3, an analysis of a man with his faith restored.

(Part 6) Zevlor's actions during/ after the epilogue, not all endings are happily ever after— especially not for a tiefling.

(Part 7) Zevlor in a romantic relationship.

I don't think many bg3 players understand just how dedicated and loyal of a person Zevlor is. This ADHD hyper-fixation fueled multipart-thesis is meant to show how Zevlor's past is as tragic as any of the origin characters'/ Durge's. It's meant to show how horrifically broken Zevlor was when he "betrayed" the other tieflings. It's also meant to show that our beloved blorbo would probably be fervently obsessive if he was in a romantic relationship.

Most importantly: It demonstrates how our favorite man Zevlor was most likely a fanatical religious zealot my dudes. He was (probably) a part of the Faerûn equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition lite.

I have kept this as factual as I am able to. Please keep in mind that Baldur's Gate 3 plays it fast and loose with the DND/ Forgotten Realms canon and lore, on top of DND/ the Forgotten Realms itself regularly disregarding and changing it's own lore and canon. DND lore and canon as a whole is a mess. It has multiple universes that sometimes interact and are maybe separate from each other. Full disclosure; I've mixed 1e-5e lore together FUCK 5.5e, because parsing through what is currently considered canon is a nightmare. As far as I'm concerned, as long as a piece of lore was canon at some point in the past 50 years— it's fair game. @y-rhywbeth2 in this post has a more in depth disclaimer. Also please check out their headcanons and lore breakdowns, they're so good.

THIS PROJECT TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO WRITE. I've tried to find all grammatical and spelling errors. I've tried to ensure that I've cited the correct sources in the correct places.

Before reading this way to long post please look at itsclydebitches analysis on Zevlor. [Alt] Which provided me with so much insight to his character and kickstarted my obsession with him. Also, @itsclydebitches puts ideas into words better than I do.

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● (Part 1) Zevlor before the events of BG3:

Here is what we know, for sure, about Zevlor:

Zevlor is a tiefling.

Zevlor achieved the rank of commander in the Hellriders.

He survived the city's fall into the Hells.

He was a paladin.

He does not have Darkvision.

Finally, here are the headcanons I have cobbled together based on the available albeit often times conflicting information I have gathered: (Hard facts are in green, everything else is speculation on my part.)

The youngest I would put Zevlor at is his mid 50's. The oldest I would put him at is his late 60's.

So this means that he was approximately 5-15 years old during the vampire crisis. Mentally, these are very formative years for a person. It really isn't a stretch of the imagination to assume that this, along with the miraculous appearance of the companion, set young Zevlor on the path to becoming a paladin and a Hellrider.

There aren't many elderly Hellriders around because most die in the line of duty. To have survived into his old age is a testament to Zevlor's skill, dedication, and luck divine favor.

(AN: In Zevlor's Sleep Stories, "a non-profit project created for and run by fans of Baldur's Gate 3 and its characters.", in episode # 8 - Oathsworn Glenn McCready, the official VA of Zevlor, (I only point out that the stories are narrated by the official VA because I think it's really cool that he and the fans have collaborated on the project. It is not meant to imply that him narrating the project means he has any opinions on how Zevlor is depicted in them, nor is it meant to lend any weight to the Sleep Stories being regarded as canon. Please check it out, it's an amazing project.) narrated a story in which Zevlor was stated to be 10 years old when the Companion first appeared— making Zevlor ~60 during the events of BG3. Zevlor's Sleep Stories is NOT canon, but I'm going to view this one story as canon in my heart; unless/ until Larian releases content/ info that contradicts it.)

This post [alt] by @nightmarist and @space-blue with contributions from @haru-sen is a wonderful source for some history of Elturel, how the Hellriders and Zariel are connected, how paladin's and their oaths work, and an analysis of how being exiled from Elturel changed/ impacted Zevlor's oath.

Zevlor would have had to devote himself 3x more than a non-tiefling Hellrider would've:

Hellriders were held to a high moral standard in a city that already had strict moral codes of conduct.

The Order of the Companion members took the Hellriders dedication a step further by swearing an oath to the city on a god.

Zevlor would have been under intense scrutiny for the crime of being a tiefling. For him to have made the rank of Commander despite this means that he proved, beyond a shadow of a shadow of a doubt, that he was devoted to protecting Elturel.

For added angst I like to headcanon that he had only achieved the rank of Commander a few tendays before Elturel fell into the Hells. And that it took so long for Zevlor to achieve the rank of Commander because he was rejected for promotions in favor of someone who wasn't a tiefling, even if they were less suited for the job than Zevlor was. And that if he wasn't a tiefling then he would've become a commander many years earlier.

Which means that for the entirety of his adult life Zevlor wholly devoted himself to being a Hellrider. He had to forsake everything else, being a Hellrider was his life's purpose.

That level of dedication cannot be faked or forced. He truly believed in being a Hellrider and what the Hellriders stood for/ represented.

And he was thanked for his years of unyielding service by being

● (Part 2) Banished from Elturel:

Zevlor's years of service, his countless sacrifices, and unwavering dedication to the protection of the city and its inhabitants meant nothing to the people of Elturel after the city was returned from the hells. Tieflings looked like the devils that had tormented them in hell (nevermind that the tieflings were also subject to the abuse from devils) and as such they were blamed for the city's Decent into Avernus.

"Many if not all the city's tieflings were exiled from the city, thanks to a new wave of misplaced fear and newly-formed prejudice."

This hatred from the people he loved so dearly didn't lead to Zevlor breaking his oath, it shattered Zevlor's very faith itself. (FFS, I can't find a clip of the Narrator describing Zevlor's time in/ just after Avernus when you click on him when he's in the mindflayer pod in Act 2. Please just trust me on this one.)

Zevlor didn't break his oath, it was broken for him. Hellriders swear to "Serve the realm of Elturgard, and defend the city of Elturel body and soul.", and he was forced to abandon the city.

Earlier in this series I had mentioned how exiled Hellriders were stripped of their gear before being cast out of the city. Zevlor, and the other tiefling Hellriders at the end of the game, still have some of their Hellrider gear. [alt] This makes me think that the other Hellriders refused to completely strip their tiefling family members of their gear because they did not agree with the city's bigoted decision. Letting them keep their gear would have been a subtle hint (and resistance to the city's authority) that the other Hellriders still considered their tiefling comrades as fellow Hellriders.

Whether the exiled tiefling Hellriders were still considered members of the Hellriders by the remaining Hellriders or not, Zevlor was now a

● (Part 3) Refugee:

But Zevlor still had a purpose, he and his fellow banished tiefling Hellriders swore to defend the civilian refugees on their journey to Baldur's Gate.

Tilses, and I assume the other Hellriders, still referred to Zevlor as Commander, and still considered him a Hellrider. She believed that no one could revoke their membership to the Hellriders, but Zevlor did. "They can [take away our Hellrider membership], and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that." - Zevlor

They were attacked multiple times on the road, and they had many casualties, and so Zevlor carried on as he always had— as a paladin sworn to protect his people. The refugees and the other, younger, Hellriders needed him to be a strong leader with unwavering faith, so that's what he was— but it was all an act. An act that got harder and harder to keep up as the days wore on and the rations, and survivors, dwindled.

But then they stumbled upon a possible salvation,

● (Part 4) The Emerald Grove:

They were welcomed in with open arms by the Archdruid Halsin. For the first time in who knows how long the refugees could rest. Sure, most of the other druids seem to barely tolerate the tieflings— but the Archdruid had made his position on their continued sanctuary within the grove clear.

And then the Archdruid Halsin went off with a set of very inexperienced and racist adventures, leaving a woman who could barely hide her contempt for the refugees as temporary Archdruid. Which should have only been for a few days at most, Zevlor knew he could play nice long enough to placate Kagha until Halsin returned, it was fine.

But Halsin didn't return, because he'd been kidnapped. And worse, Zevlor find this out because those inept adventures brought a pack of goblins right to the gate of the Grove.

I think the goblin attack was when Zevlor truly began to crumble. He would've been overwrought with guilt and self-doubt. Had he not spent ~20 seconds berating and interrogating Aradin over leading goblins straight to the Grove, and instead used that time to open the gate, then Kanon's death could've been avoided.

Worse still is that he ordered a man who wasn't wearing any armor to open the gate. Zevlor blames himself for Kanon's death, and he would mentally self-flagellate himself over his own cowardice: How he, a Commander in the Hellriders, took cover while Kanon, a tailor by trade, bravely continued opening the gate while the goblins were firing arrows at him.

After a hard-fought battle, the goblins are defeated. Then Aradin swaggers in acting as though he didn't just do a profoundly stupid thing by leading the goblins straight to defenseless citizens. Not only that, the uppity shithead Aradin blames Halsin for getting himself kidnapped. And then Aradin strikes a nerve, calling Zevlor a coward (and a slur). I think that Zevlor is already contending with his own guilt from thinking that he himself acted cowardly. For Aradin to call him a coward, on top of all the other stupid shit he's been spouting off, is too much to bear, and Zevlor's rage/ self-loathing is about to erupt into violence.

Luckily, the group of actually competent adventures who arrived and saved the day also managed to diffuse the tension between Zevlor and Aradin.

Or not. Leading to Zevlor punching the overtly racist idiot.

Punching Aradin (acting on his inherent desire for violence*, specifically) is something that I believe is wildly out of character for Zevlor. Aradin isn't the first mouthy prick he's come across, and if Zevlor had responded with violence to all of them then he wouldn't have been able to become a Commander. The stress Zevlor's been under has finally boiled over, and now that he no longer considers himself a Hellrider (and is constantly in survival mode trying to keep himself and the other tieflings alive), keeping a tight lid on his anger isn't something he really cares about anymore.

*"Tieflings also had access to an ability known as infernal wrath, which channeled their innate rage and potential for evil into their attacks for added effectiveness."

I cannot emphasize enough how much self discipline and restraint Zevlor has. His infernal heritage in combination with the overt discrimination he has undoubtedly faced his entire life, plus a healthy dose of pride, are a vicious cocktail of honestly justified anger issues. (AN: Based on him having more physical infernal features than the other tieflings do [alt] I headcanon that he possesses a temper closer resembling a devil's than the less infernal-looking tieflings do.)

Zevlor has been unchained. When it becomes clear that diplomacy won't work Zevlor tells the player that Kagha is their main obstacle, and that without her influence the other druids may see sense. The way he phrases this sentence allows Tav to "read between the lines" and see that Zevlor is open to killing Kagha, while also giving himself plausible deniability. Zevlor didn't suggest murdering Kagha, Tav did. Zevlor is "still hoping that Kagha can be swayed from this madness.", but if not... well, surely Tav understands how "Leaders need to make tough decisions. We do what we must."

Notice how slyly he phrased that— "we", subtly putting himself and Tav in the same category/ on the same team. But most importantly he never outright says to Tav "I want you to kill Kagha", it's implied. His 17 charisma and years of politicking around racism and red tape really shows here; because if shit goes south and Tav fails in their assassination attempt then, even if he has ingested a truth serum, Zevlor can honestly tell the druids that he never asked Tav to kill Kagha. If Tav doesn't suggest killing Kagha then Zevlor doesn't bring it up, and instead asks Tav to take out the goblin camp leaders.

(I am only citing this one dialogue tree option. There are more dialogue tree options, but I can't find videos of them and I am currently unable to play BG3 to explore the different options myself.)

Zevlor is proficient in using manipulation tactics and his knowledge of psychology to garner his preferred outcome. To be clear— I don't think he would have acted in such an underhanded way before being exiled, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I do think that pre-descent Zevlor was no stranger to using manipulation/ his psychological insight to achieve his goals, he would've had to because of the prejudice he faced, but it would've been used for more benign reasons (such as being treated with basic respect instead of open contempt).

(AN: Manipulation in and of itself isn't inherently bad, we all use manipulation to some extent in our day to day lives. So long as they are not abused little white lies and benign manipulations, along with having/ using tact, allow society to smoothly function. Like how saying "Please get me a glass of water." is perceived more favorably, and is more likely to convince a person to get you a glass of water, than "Get me a glass of water." Saying please is considered polite, and people are much more likely to acquiesce to a request if someone is polite. 'You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.' Or how you might wait until after someone has eaten to ask them for something, because they're more likely to agree to your request when they're not hangry.)

Zevlor was once a very proud man, and he had every right to be— becoming a Commander in the Hellriders is a remarkable achievement. Becoming a Commander in the Hellriders in the face of profound discrimination? Nothing short of a triumph. The Zevlor we meet at the Grove is a shadow of the man he used to be. The fall into Avernus and everything that happened after it has sucked most of the life out of him.

We still catch glimpses of the proud Hellrider Commander with the power of god and anime on his side that Zevlor once was. This post [alt] by @dimmadoome demonstrates not only Zevlor's pride, but his infernal temper and possessiveness (which I will cover in a different post). Listen to his speech here. This is a man who has lead his fellow warriors into battle. A man who fought for what he believed in and refused to give up even in the face of insurmountable danger. You can see the hell fire in his eyes blazing bright with righteous fury.

And then there's the speech he gives after defeating Minthara. Note his emphasis on the tieflings being not just survivors, but family. When he says 'family' he has a proud, gentle smile. (His high charisma and experience with giving rousing speeches may be the only reason why his mien changes during this part of his speech, but I think he's being sincere.) If you start that video from the beginning you can see him take a moment to collect himself because he's exhausted, but he knows his people need him to be a strong unflappable leader.

(Did you catch how he quickly pivots from hauteur "Tymora smile on me." to deference "We did it. You did it."? Manipulate, mansplain, malewife the hell out of them Zevlor.)

This portion of the video highlights Zevlor's loyalty to his comrades in arms. He calls Tav family— remember, Hellriders are extremely loyal to one another (and tieflings are very loyal to those who prove themselves trustworthy), this is how he behaved towards all his fellow Hellriders before he has cast out of Elturel. His faith is still broken, but Tav/Durge/Origin has reignited a glimmer of hope in him.

I think this is the only time I've ever seen this poor man actually relax and smile. But then he immediately goes back to looking pensive and walled off. I may be delulu and reading too far into things, but I don't think this is merely his character model returning to its default— I think it demonstrates exactly how Zevlor has been living for years: Silently admonishing himself for letting his guard down and his control slip. Desperately wanting to let go and forget himself and his propriety for a while but being unwilling, possibly unable, to do so.

That being said he does somewhat relax at

● (Part 5) The Tiefling Party:

There isn't a lot to say here. Zevlor isn't imbibing (much) to ensure that he keeps his wits about him— both so that he can supervise the people who are partying, and keep watch for potential threats. Even though he's not partying, Zevlor is elated to see the tiefling refugees smiling and relaxing. He knows that the journey ahead of them is fraught with danger/ trials and tribulations. He even looks the other way when his people spike the punch to make purple drank.

In Early Access to thank Tav for saving them Zevlor made a (bugged) light show where every light in it represented a life that Tav and Co. had saved. The party is the last time Zevlor is happy and hopeful before everything falls apart, as we will see in the next installation of this series: (Part 4) Zevlor's actions during Act 2, an analysis of a broken man.

Here's a link to the master list for this series.

Thanks for reading!

[mentallyisekaid]

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 1 ✦ 」

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[Part 1] Part 2 Part 2.5. Part 3 Part 3.5

Pairings: only hinted/platonic (will change to something "more" later on if I decide to make more parts)

Warnings: spoilers regarding Signora's lore and a certain event in the Inazuma Archon quest, possibly some spoiler-ish stuff about other things too

Word count: 2.7k

This fanfic will include direct quotations from "Teyvat Chapter Interlude Teaser: A Winter Night's Lazzo" that belongs fully to miHoYo. I'll write these quotes in bold, so copyrights won't haunt me like Khaenri'ah lore :)

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Even among the Harbingers, not much was known about the Fair Lady's (may she rest in peace) younger sister, except for the fact that you existed and had somehow managed to live for over 500 years, just like her. They were all aware of Signora's special circumstances that had made her essentially immortal, but Celestia knows how you had done it?

This is why you'd become something of a urban legend among the lower ranking members of the Fatui. Maybe La Signora had just been delusional, some of them thought - maybe there wasn't a sister, at least not anymore.

You were fine with that, though. You'd never wanted anything to do with your sister or her morally dubious organization anyway.

But she was still the only blood relative you'd had left, and now she was gone.

Attending her funeral was only appropriate.

You arrived at the grand doors of the cathedral, stopping for a moment to adjust the expensive-looking cloak that someone had sent you along with the invitation to the ceremony, requesting you to wear it. Much to your displeasure, it had the Fatui Insignia on it, though you were slightly more bothered by the fact that they'd somehow figured out where you live...

Or maybe they'd known all along.

But even if the invitation wasn't just out of courtesy, you had only showed up because Rosalyne was family, and only to pay your respects.

Their agendas meant nothing to you.

Pushing the doors open, you marched inside, the click-clack of your high heeled boots echoing in the eerie silence.

Curious gazes followed as this visitor, shrouded in mystery, made her way through the aisle - some of them curious, others a bit doubtful - but you ignored them.

Sitting down in the front row, you crossed your legs, leaning back with your eyes glued to the coffin highlighted by faint moonlight. A girl with child-like, seraphic features was leaning her head on its surface, singing a calming tune...

Spooky.

"Well, I never... this must be the Fair Lady's rumored sibling? And here I was starting to think you wouldn't make an appearance, dear."

You sighed, really having hoped that no one would bother talking to you; you had nothing to say to any of them. But for Celestia's sake, you still had some manners...

Glancing over your shoulder at the man who had just addressed you, you gave him a slight nod.

"It does seem my arrival was rather tardy. My apologies."

The man who you recognized as the Regrator, also known as Pantalone, chuckled a bit.

"No matter, it is rare a pleasure to finally meet you~"

"Likewise."

For a moment, your eyes wandered over each of the present Harbingers, these... co-workers of your sister's, before returning to stare in front of you just as indifferently as before.

You spoke a few more words, though.

"Everyone else as well, I suppose. Oh, and please pay no attention to my discourtesy... A lovely night for a funeral, is it not?"

Your charade was poorly put together, and intentionally so; you didn't know these people anymore than they knew you, but it was already clear that no one was here to pay their heartfelt respects for Rosalyne's memory, much less to exchange pleasantries.

A funeral? No, this was nothing but theatre - and here comes the first actor...

"We have gathered here today to remember our dear comrade. In honor of her sacrifice, all work should halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

Hearing these words come from Pulcinella, the Mayor of Snezhnaya himself, you mentally scoffed. So now these crazy diplomats justified mistakes as sacrifice?

Pantalone seemed amused by this declaration, though you noticed a shadow pass over his face.

"Hehe, merely half a day... People say that Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But Mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

Well, it was as you'd expected? Even in this situation, the Harbingers only cared about their own agendas, and Rosalyne would've been the same way.

The next words belonged to someone you found a bit more familiar.

"You speak of her as if you knew what she had to go through," the silver-haired woman started, a derogatory look in her dark eyes.

You glanced curiously at her. This was surely Arlecchino? Out of the Harbingers, your sister had seemed to trust her the most, so you assumed they must've shared some sort of a closer relationship.

The Knave noticed you gaze, and gave you a small nod before continuing.

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land. But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries, always with a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland... You couldn't hope to understand. So why don't you keep your mouths shut!"

"Ah, bravo...~" you commented with a small chuckle, your sudden boldness slightly surprising some of them.

It seemed that La Signora's hardly known sister was indeed an interesting individual?

The ginger sitting on the other side of the aisle apparently found your remark entertaining, since he gave you an amused smile. But he threw his comrade's a much sterner look.

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight."

Tartaglia, the infamous maniac always looking for a fight? Present~

"Utterly risible," a blonde woman scoffed from her place, sitting on the arms of a weird looking robot. Sandrone, you presumed.

And naturally, the oh-so righteous Capitano also had his opinion to share.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is still a great pity."

You sighed, shaking your head. There they go again, degrading her death as a mere sacrifice.

"Her loss shall not hinder our progress," the Captain continued, disregarding the matter. "But Dottore, what of Scaramouche --,"

...to which the crazy Doctor answered something incomprehensible.

Right. They weren't even talking about Rosalyne anymore. By now, the whole ceremony had turned out as a complete farce, and you wished nothing more than for Celestia to nuke it with another one of their divine nails.

Someone else had had enough as well.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics. This time, you have no captive audience."

The Jester's voice echoed menacingly in the cathedral, silencing his fellow Harbingers.

You gazed at him from your seat, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a look as well. In that short moment, unspoken words were shared between the two of you - after all, he knew things about you that the others didn't.

In any case, the speech went on for a while after that. Pierro's exaggerated sympathies, the Damselette needling Dottore about his segments, and... well, you weren't really listening anymore?

Once they finished and scattered from around the coffin, you silently walked over, placing a few frostbitten Cecilias on top of it. They were flowers from your homeland, though to you, Mondstadt was a memory at least five centuries old.

"Pretty flowers," a soft voice came from beside you. Columbina was back to presumptuously leaning on the casket.

You gave her a sidelong glance.

"Well, they're frozen to death by now - but that somehow fits the moment, no?"

"Mh-hmm~"

The ceremony was seemingly over, though you could still sense their presence. Your back was facing them, but it felt like they'd moved closer to the coffin again - or, perhaps, closer to you...

"I don't believe anyone has yet offered their condolences to this poor child," Capitano remarked solemnly, disregarding the fact you were chronologically speaking a living fossil.

Tartaglia sighed, "She doesn't want us to, I think."

You turned around to face them, crossing your arms.

"Well, firstly, you're calling me a child about 500 years too late. And no, I don't need your pity. It's hard to see your last family gone, but we weren't that close to begin with. Besides, Rosalyne knew full well what she was doing - when agreeing to a duel before the Shogun, and when joining the Fatui in the first place. You reap what you sow, and that's that."

The Doctor chuckled. "La Signora would surely turn over in her grave if she heard that."

"Let the dead rest, Zandik," Sandrone scoffed.

Columbina had scooted next to you.

"Poor thing~", she sang in that eerie voice, tilting her head. "How long have you been living by yourself? Maybe you could have Signora's former chambers in the headquarters."

Hmm? What a laughable suggestion, you thought. She was obviously toying with you.

Arlecchino gave the Damselette a warning look.

"Such a thing is something only the Director can decide. Though," she gave you an unreadable look. "I wouldn't be against it. In Rosalyne's honor, of course."

The usually ruthless Knave's comment was found somewhat unexpected among her comrades.

You gave her a weird look.

Something was clearly going on, the atmosphere was strangely expecting and you didn't like it in the slightest. It seems the theatrics weren't over after all?

Pantalone was gazing at you, an amused smile on his lips.

"You look a bit lost there, dear. Don't worry, Pierro will explain some things to you in a moment~"

You frowned. So, there was more in the game here - that letter wasn't just an invitation to the funeral of a sister you hardly even cared about, you'd doubted as much from the beginning.

Not that it really changed anything. As already mentioned, you'd only come for the ceremony...

And now that it was over, there was no reason for you to stay.

"That won't be necessary," you stated, nodding curtly. "I will be taking my leave now. Goodbye."

Your cloak shuffled as you walked past them, heading toward the exit. However, Childe, who had been standing the closest to the doors, now moved to block your way.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Tartaglia, right? If you could move aside, that would be much appreciated."

"Sorry, no can do, girlie," he laughed a bit, scratching his neck in an awkward manner. "Boss wants to have a chat with you, so I can't just have you leaving like that, now can I?"

"Right," you sighed. "Well, I don't really care..."

You rudely moved past him, reaching the doors and about to push them open, when you suddenly felt a hand on your wrist. And the grip they had wasn't exactly gentle.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Childe still wearing that stupid smile of his but there was now a shadow over his usually cheerful expression.

"Look, you seem like a smart girl." His voice was soft and menacing at the same time. "Things don't have to get ugly here, if you just cooperate a bit."

Ugly? Oh, you could make things turn ugly.

But this wasn't the right time for that - not with the majority of the Harbingers present. It's not like you had a death wish, for Celestia's sake... though, it did seem like Tartaglia was only half serious about what he had said?

You looked past him, seeing the other Fatui diplomats standing there, all with hardly readable expressions on their faces. Your gaze stopped when it reached the Jester. If this was about Pierro having something to discuss with you, you were fairly sure you knew what he wanted anyway...

So, no harm in amusing him a bit?

"Ha. Well, it seems like I have no choice, then."

Childe smiled. "That's more like it."

He started making his way toward the front of the cathedral, while still holding onto your wrist - basically, he walked you back there like a toddler. After all, you might've had a change of heart any at any given moment and sprinted out of there like a lunatic.

You awkwardly sat down on one of the seats, wrapping the cloak around you tigther. The Harbingers were now standing in a semicircle in front of you, gazing down at you like their you were property. Pierro took a step forward.

"Now then, Y/N Lohefalter..."

"You are going to ask about my Visions, right?" you asked rudely. "As in, plural. Both of them. Is my assumption wrong?"

Pantalone chuckled. "Well, aren't you clever, my dear~"

"No, I always knew Rosalyne had told you, which is precisely why I tend to keep a lower profile than this. There's no reason to be so melodramatic over a couple of Visions."

Dottore seemed amused by your remark.

"But most humans never receive one. Yet, here you are, blessed with two."

"That, or cursed" you pointed out.

The Jester had allowed this interruption, but all it took was one gaze of authority from him and even you realized it was better to watch your mouth around this man. You tilted your head slightly downward.

"This assumption you made isn't necessarily untrue," Pierro stated in a low voice. "But it's not the whole truth, either."

It wasn't?

You heard footsteps approaching and carefully glanced up at Pierro who was now standing mere inches away from you. Things were getting more interesting, that's for sure.

"I asked you to come here today out of respect for Rosalyne's memory, and of curiosity toward the fact that you indeed bear the power of both Cryo and Pyro, much like your sister, albeit without a Delusion. My intention, however, was also to make a request of you..."

The Jester suddenly kneeled before you, his gesture confusing you. The infamous Director of the Fatui, kneeling before you?

You gave him a doubtful look.

"And what might that request be?"

"To put it simply, I want you to take Rosalyne's place as one of the Fatui Harbingers."

"...come again?"

The other Harbingers didn't seem surprised in the slightest.

You shook your head.

"You want me to join the Fatui?"

"We've been keeping a close eye on you, Y/N Lohefalter, ever since the Cataclysm and Rosalyne joining our ranks. Back then, she herself made the request that should she ever perish, you'd be asked to take her place."

"Ha," you chuckled. "That does sound like one of her selfish whims... but still, why would you even consider such a thing?"

You looked at Pierro, tilting your head.

"Can you really trust that my agendas align with yours?"

"Every person in this room has their own ideals and it has not proved to be a problem." The Director nodded. "You need not but work in the name of the Fatui, and swear your loyalty to the Tsaritsa. Of course, the latter is expected of you as a citizen of Snezhnaya anyway."

You crossed you arms, contemplating this unexpected proposal.

"And if I refuse?"

This earned displeased looks from the other Harbingers. Pierro's solemn expression, however, never faltered.

"It's far beyond my dignity to be forceful here. That would be disrespecting Rosalyne's legacy, and risking to make you a powerful foe of the Fatui."

He paused for a while.

"But I should also clarify that with the kind of power you hold, you are facing but two choices - to be with us... or against us."

So that's how it was going to be?

You'd almost forgotten that Pierro was still half-kneeling in front of you; even though one of his eyes was covered by a mask, his gaze held such intensity that you were completely enchanted by it for a moment.

And to think you'd make this kind of a decision on a whim, just like she once had - you really were more similar to your sister than you'd care to admit...

You sighed, standing up and glancing at the other Harbingers.

"Is this how he recruited you as well?"

Sandrone made a 'hmph' sound, "hardly."

"Heh, to think the Jester would kneel in front of someone?~" Pantalone commented. "You're quite an impressive girl, my dear."

"Then again," Dottore chuckled, "she has yet to witness the crueler side of the Director, no?"

Are you sure about that?

Tartaglia sighed, "now, now, don't scare her away..."

Pulcinella and Capitano didn't seem too amused by their comrades' antics. You, on the other hand, had their undivided attention.

Columbina was sleepily humming along to some tune, giving you discreet glances.

Arlecchino shook her head.

"Pierro still awaits for an answer, Y/N. Despite of what he may seem like, the Jester is not a man of great patience. It's time for you to decide."

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"..."

"Then, I'm in?"

But for the love of the Tsaritsa, you had no idea what you'd just gotten yourself into.

[pinkrose05]

Warning: 2.5 spoilers (wardance event)

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Yanqing and Luka friendships was NOT on my 2024 bingo but they're everything to me actually. Look at them. They're so silly...