#yes hello fellow dain simps dont be shy pls write for our king

[throwaway-yandere]

Syauiwowoajka I read some of your works and I was planning on binging your SAGAU fic once I have free time (that isn't just me writing everytime there's a lunch break lol). I'm sorry I wasn't aware you had a writing blog sooner– gotta say, I love the soulmate thoma one (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠), was feeling down and it made me feel lighter. To be honest I'm a bit behind so I'm not exactly sure what "mutuals" fully meant but it sounds really nice (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

This part is gonna be a very unorganized rambling lololol:

Reader 🤝 yan!Kaeya: scarf-wearing Khaenri'ahns who don't snitch.

Huehuehue, the abyss mage fur is actually the plot point of Side Story - I (I just didn't upload it cause I didn't edit it yet and maybe it's best to upload at Sep 28. But the sketches and plot is done though lol. Lumine my beloved ❤️.)

^ It's a nice and probably the only difference between the entity 'The Creator' and reader

Dainsleif (and technically Lumine) is my dearest poster boy of this fic so he's one of the few people who gets the "(Y/n)" privilege ehe. The rest can stick with "Your Grace"–

I'm sorry if the flashback part was too confusing– it's meant to be vague as possible ahaha. Celestia and "The Creator" are two separate things. Essentially (Y/n)'s master *claimed* to have made them in The Creator's image, but the purpose isn't to destroy Khaenri'ah. It's just a consequence. After all...

Why would Celestia agree to a false God?

Rhinedottir *claims* to be the one who "created" (Y/n). Dw too much about it– at the end of Chapter 1, (Y/n) no longer cares about that lol it's their time to be a ✨ Hysteric Humanoid™️ ✨

Darn Khaenri'ahns and their "blame khemia/gold" agenda.

Archons, archons, archons. Just because (Y/n) can manipulate gravity doesn't mean they're a miracle worker–

Most people probably played Requiem quest first before the Yaksha quest... But my 2nd account is the opposite lmao. I keep a second acc just to use impulsively use f2p wishes and I still have Dain hostage while Itto and the gang are already done with their story (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠) ((actually, since I don't use it a lot, a ton of characters are hostage. just let them chill lol)). Without my second acc I probably never would've thought about writing this lol.

Ngl, I'm one of those people who switch to CN whenever Paimon gets a lot of screentime (my ears think CN Paimon is superior). Poor poor reader. At least you get the better traveling companion(s).

I can never forget that "the main character's stat depends on which twin you chose" trivia because my friend was sad about choosing aether because of it. Now she's an aether simp. Character development.

Oh and uugggh yES I WISH I KNEW IF DAINSLEIF'S KNOWLEDGE SURPASSES THE IRMINSUL/DENDRO ARCHON. DAIN OPEN UP WON'T YA– He (and Ayato) is my fave character in the game but I know next to nothing about him smh smh. Played genshin just for him and I still don't know what he knows, you're unfair Dainsleif, I am filled with DisDain–

I wish I could help patch up what "broke" but honestly I think I'll accidentally just make it worse lmao.

This next part is just me being a dain simp, im sorry its just that your message put me in a dainsleif simp mood that i kinda forgot what i was supposed to write:

I'm really glad you enjoyed this btw!!! I was pretty sad there isn't a lot of content for yandere SAGAU dainsleif when he has SOOOO MUCH POTENTIAL!?!? like dhkajdkakskkwoa.

G u y s. The man can PROTECT you– have you seen him back flip?? (Him backflipping is unrelated I just wanna remind you he can backflip–)

he's a knight of a fallen nation can you imagine being by his side when Khaenri'ah crumbled imagine the angst bro– he does not trust the divine and yet he's stuck with The Creator's walking sculpture in this fic. Pain. And there's so many possible banters with Lumine– He. Him. Everything. Yes. My mind is too jumbled lol.

I've seen Dainsleif used as this sort of revenge tool for acolyte!archons to make them feel jealous and I highkey feel bad for him lol (it's nothing personal to the people that write that plot!! I also eat those fics up cause it's really good and I enjoy angst and suffering lol).

Anyways yeah dhajsjkaoa sorry for spilling my simping in this. Hence why I adore how you "talk too much" cause me too!! Man I could talk about this stuff for hours if I could but alas real life calls for me huhu. Thanks for reading the fic!!! This message really encourages me to write more regarding it haha (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡

Cause of that, I willed myself to write a sagau au that featured mostly him and the twins.

How can I do that? Oh, I'll just make him as (Y/n)'s retainer and Lumine as their traveling companion. But hmm won't he feel too guilty to act on his yandere impulses though? Haha, just make him incredibly touchstarved for the next 300 years, he'll come running back– yeah basically that's my thought process for this fic summed up lol

500 Year Long Identity Crisis (Yandere!SAGAU Various/Reader)

A/n: Advanced happy birthday Ayaka/2nd anniversary everyone!!! I put quite the effort into this fic to celebrate lol.

Characters present in this chapter: (Main Focus) Traveler!Aether, Baizhu, Dainsleif. (Briefly Mentioned) Yelan, Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli, Venti, Abyss!Lumine, Enjou

Cw: yandere self-aware genshin au, "impostor" reader, gn!reader

Unreliable synopsis: The traveler received a strange commission indirectly from a government official. Although, it seems their azure-glasses-wearing guide is far more interesting than the quest itself.

Hysteric Humanoid (Yandere!SAGAU):

Side Story I - Dainsleif, Lumine, and Venti (this short story will be uploaded in a few days.)

Chapter 1 (You're here)

—---

"He who leaves a good name does not die poor. Remember that well, Your Grace!"

------

Everyone you encountered in your travels wondered what you would look like without your azure-tinted sunglasses at some point in their lives. Whether it be random passersby or your "closest" confidants, not a single soul knew of what you looked like underneath the accessories you wore. This eccentric trait of yours made plenty uneased, for each time someone tried to pry into your privacy, you were quick to quip more riddles for them to lose sleep over.

As expected, today's appointment with the traveler was no different.

Aether couldn't tell what to make of you when you entered the restaurant. You covet too many cultural accessories, more so than Tighnari's infamous mess of a getup. Yet the only somewhat recognizable article of clothing was the fur scarf around your neck. However, this is only because a certain Mondstadt cavalry captain wore something similar. Only this time, this scarf had more love put into its handiwork than Kaeya's.

At least you balanced his abysmal first impression by offering to pay the bill.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. They call me Jianfeng. I'm a temporary tax accountant here in Liyue. It's a pleasure to be working with you."

The traveler noticed your gloved hands extended. Almost every part of your body was covered, indicating that you made a concerted effort in covering everything up. He couldn't tell what color your eyes were underneath those glasses. You don't fit in in the bustling main metropolis of Liyue Harbor, let alone Wanmin Restaurant, and Aether doubted that you'd be able to blend in anywhere else.

You looked like an eccentric Fatui Agent. Almost. But even bad guys in uniform had better fashion sense. Are you trying to look worse than criminals?

The traveler didn't like you right off the bat.

If he were to guess, people “call you Jianfeng” because they don’t know your real name.

"It's... Nice to meet you too." Aether hesitantly shook your hand. His eyebrows furrowed.

Your hands were as cold as Albedo's.

That fact alarmed him.

Not long ago, he discovered Albedo's true nature as a homunculus and met his clones. In that handshake, he felt your flesh holding his, and he might dare say that you have unique human characteristics, yet your rigidness makes you appear more like an entity. Aether eyed you quietly.

What if you were one of them? What if behind your blue-tinted glasses, your eyes are composed of chalk? 

Aether doesn't believe you are human. He had already concluded who you were after this little discussion. You're either a doll, a clone, or an exuvia. However, he couldn't explain why he thought it was the third guess.

"They call you Jianfeng? So, is that not your real name or...?" 

Paimon asked what he was afraid of saying.

He didn't even notice that you already pulled your hand away. Aether's hand was trembling. 

You used up all the self-restraint you had left so you won't narrow your eyes at her. He's already suspicious enough. You know that look well. His sister had that expression, too. Their faces bespoke knowledge and experience that free-spirits have. This is no time to let your guard down.

The traveler is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You felt a tiny hand grabbing your hood. 

"Do you need to wear all these clothes? You're not weak to the cold, are you?"

You flinched as you came face to face with a starry-eyed "pixie" tugging your earrings like a newborn baby. You gently smacked her away with one hand. Have you been slacking on training so much that Paimon, of all people, nearly yanked your hood off? You must have given her a menacing look since the cowardly critter scurried behind the traveler right after.

She's a lot nosier than you guessed.

"P-Paimon!!!"

Aether's eyes went wide as he slammed his hand to cover his traveling companion's mouth, not even bothering to look behind him. If he wasn't already a famous figure, you would've noted that the two traveled adequately enough for him to hit her lips intuitively.

He may appear shocked, but he is nothing but calm in assessing your character.

So, you don't like it when people grab your clothes. You're hiding something.

"I'm SO sorry about Paimon!" The blonde man squeaked. "She can be a bit tactless."

"No, no. It's fine. I enjoy talking to blunt people." You chuckled. "Makes my job run a lot smoother, especially during busy seasons. Though, I would greatly appreciate it if neither of you would strip away my clothes. We don't have an intimate... friendship."

You shook your head, realizing that your reply sounded like something Kaeya would say.

"I hope you're not assuming that I'm here to talk about tax return preparations. I won't press you about anything related to taxes. Besides, I'm a bit off schedule and I don't have time snooping into your business."

Paimon audibly sighed, Aether not so much.

"So you're not going to ask about tax evasion...?" He muttered.

You didn't quite catch that. "What?"

"N-Nevermind that!" Paimon giggled suspiciously. You've heard the traveler had done around Inazuma and for the sake of keeping his heroic ventures alive, you turned a blind eye in this case. 

It's not like you can jail a video game protagonist for tax fraud anyways.

"I asked for your audience because I would like to hire you for a special commission." 

You cringed for a brief moment before clearing your throat. 

"Actually, no, that doesn't seem right. SOMEONE from The Civil of Ministry Affairs wants to hire you for a special commission, and I happen to be nearby for SOMEONE to dump this workload without consent. I have a life of my own, so expect me to make this quick."

"Civil of Ministry Affairs..." The traveler glanced at Paimon.

"Ooh! Ooh! Is it Yelan?!"

The small creature loved to hog the conversation, but her slip-of-a-tongue proved to be quite helpful in this instance.

"Yes, precisely. Huh, I thought I'd have to make a roundabout excuse as to why I can't disclose who your client is." 

You slid the files onto the table's surface. Aether didn't seem phased by the enormous red CONFIDENTIAL text stamped on the folders and quickly took a look without your authorization.

"You have three days to decide. Look for me at Bubu Pharmacy at around six to ten pm. See you then."

Yelan often visits the pharmacy in disguise, so if she ever doubts you, you might as well prove her wrong. You stood up. You can't be bothered to stay longer, lest you want Mingbo's ire.

"H-Hey, hold on, Paimon can't understand this!"

"Then hire someone that can. Yelan insists that it's an important mission. It's imperative that you must perfect this task." 

Your departure was as quick as your arrival, and you spared not a single second more to entertaining the traveler's questions. 

Was it out of false confidence that he could decipher scholarly pages or pure indifference? Neither Paimon nor Aether knew. What bugged them more was not the fact they couldn't understand the files without Paimon reading through a dictionary for the foreigner, but the proverb you whispered right before you disappeared.

"Remember to paint the dragon, then dot the eye."

-----------

Cursed hands roamed the severed threads of your hood... until they slowly traveled down your neck, squeezing lightly.

"Your hair, your face, your body, your eyes..."

You shivered.

As you've heard, eyes are a telltale marker of neoteny. It speaks for how you've aged without saying a word and expresses everything humanity desired. Nonetheless, you did not pay attention to these sermons. What you heard is nothing more than a dirty craving for eternal youth, similar to a corrupt man's desire to deflower what is absolutely still and Celestia's desire to demolish a prosperous nation.

Man or Heaven– it did not matter which, they all wished you gone.

All you have left is him. For he remains as your soft glow at dawn and the sword at your side.

He spoke into your ear. Strands of his light hair stroked the nape of your neck, enticing you with his closeness. He shades your view of the burning nation in front of you with one gloved hand. Someone as frail as you, in his opinion, should not squander their eyes viewing a despicable final act.

His somber voice was an epilogue– a closing narration to humanity's greatest achievement. 

And Khaenri'ah's end starts with you.

"Every inch of you is under my protection."

His breath was uneven, much like his tearful visage. You did not permit him, but his head rested on your shoulder, soundly defeated. From that moment forward, you were the only person he could touch without feeling guilty about his curse, for better or for worse.

"But we must continue this path. It's far too late to stop…

"I beg you, My Lord. Don't go anywhere without me."

-----------

"Are you sure the traveler will say no? I must say though, you're very bold for tampering with Yelan's files, (Player Name)."

"Stop calling me that," you gritted your teeth. "You know damn well I despise that name, doc."

The person who asked you was a slim doctor who ground some medicinal herbs on the countertop. Considering how he says the name (Player Name) without any thought of divine retribution, he's a bit of a heretic, like you.

The doctor's name is Baizhu, renowned for his work in the Bubu Pharmacy. 

He appears fragile but make no mistake: disagreeing with his methodologies is futile. Baizhu is by no means a friend but you wouldn't want him as your enemy. He's the only one who knows of your "unique" constitution, and therefore the only one who can tinker with your body. At least, the contract says so.

Baizhu met your eyes with a small, scheming smile.

"In all honesty, Jianfeng, your hatred for The Creator will bite you one day. You can't hate them forever."

You grunted.

Yes, yes you can.

The crest of Khaenri'ah rests in your pupils, daunting and pure. Looking at the mirror feels awfully naked without your glasses since your reflection haunts you. The symbol weaved in your eyes echoed the voices of those who were there long ago. 

You were naught but a primordial being shaped like the one that played behind the "screen". You were a Khaenri'ahn offering, an homage to this "player" figure you'll never understand. This flawed birth process is your bane. You were molded into their ideal human Lord, one who wielded power beyond the Archons and Celestia itself...

The Creator. 

(Player Name).

Your homeland revered this one entity. In fact, your master made you in their image, not as a person but as a walking sculpture. Nonetheless, you aspired to be The Creator whom anyone would be glad to share a room with. You worked hard to be considerate and kind... But playing the role of a saint is pointless in the nation of agnostic men.

Khaenri'ahns do not rely on Archons or their doctrines, but they recognize that your very existence was blasphemous.

It would've hurt less if you hadn't deluded yourself that you had a chance. It didn't matter how much love you offered when those sentiments did not reach the masses' hearts.

Because you'll never be their image of (Player Name). Even if you inherited their intellect and insights of the future.

You would've loved your countrymen as they grew wrinkly and unrecognizably older. You would've given them the kindness they deserved. You would've forgiven them for all their flaws. Because you know you see them as who they were.

But why couldn't they have thought the same for you?

Oftentimes you wondered if it was their eyes that stalked you when you first left your cage. More often than not, you lie awake at night wondering what made (Player Name) so valuable and what made this human, an imperfect and mortal thing, more adored than you will ever be. Try as you might in racking your head for an answer, dead men tell no tales.

And where did all the love that you gave got you now? Scared of your own faux body. Paranoid and pitiful.

You just want to be loved. 

By anyone.

"... Jianfeng? Are you crying?" Baizhu said in disbelief rather than concern.

You sniffed and hastily smudged the tears behind your glasses. Baizhu made his way towards you with a hand that eagerly patted your head. Changsheng, who's normally abrasive, slithered on top of your shoulders and gave you a cold hug. They didn't ask why you were crying. You spilled your heart out to him long ago, and he's not a forgetful person, unlike his little helper. 

You snickered weakly.

By the looks on both their faces, you could tell that they know your true identity.

But you don't care.

After all, it was Baizhu who gave you your new name. And "Jianfeng" suits you just fine.

"Me? Crying? You need new glasses." You sniffed.

"Hmm? Oh but darling I think my diagnosis is spot on."

"If I was crying, shouldn't you realize that you're the problem?" You half-heartedly quipped.

His smile faded. Before Baizhu could say anything witty in response, Qiqi, with her stubby legs, opened the door in her tippy-toes. 

"Jian… the traveler is here…"

You gently patted Changsheng's head, silently motioning her to go back to her master. 

"Will be there in a sec."

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

Aether was curious as to why you chose this to be your meeting place, but after seeing Baizhu trail behind you, he formed a concrete assumption as to why.

The doctor had a hand draped around your shoulder. You two must have an "intimate friendship."

"Before we give you an answer, Paimon has a few things Paimon wants to ask!"

You expected as much. "Sure, go on then."

The traveler sat in one of the free chairs and you did the same.

Baizhu took a seat behind the counter. Given his frail constitution, he isn't the most imposing man in the room, but his look was something else entirely. The doctor observed the traveler and his companion stealing your attention.

Paimon may be dense, but Aether isn't.

Aether couldn't speak when Baizhu's snake-like eyes tilted like a blade under his chin.

"Are you from Mondstadt?"

"Huh? Er... No. Why did you think so?"

"You have the same scarf-thing like Kaeya– he's The Knights of Favonius’s Cavalry Captain."

You've met him. The Creator knows him as well. They frequently controlled his body before swapping to someone else after "wishing." Aside from that, you two correspond letters frequently. Kaeya sends notices whenever a certain fellow countryman concocts drinks at his brother’s tavern. Hence, you consider him a close confidant.

But you'd rather not share that information.

Kaeya likes to keep his friendship with you as one of his dirty little secrets.

Last time someone found out about you, the cavalry captain knocked him out. You never saw Connor again after that.

"Maybe we have similar tastes. I did visit old Mond before, but that was because I wanted to see the Great Wolf, Andrius..." You sighed.

Paimon quickly moved on. "Are you sure you're a tax accountant? Because the traveler hasn't seen you on Liyue's list of graduates."

They must have obtained the information through Keqing. That lady has reservations about everything, from your golden shrimp balls to Rex Lapis and The Creator. You were skeptical of her at first, but she welcomes any criticism that borders on blasphemy. It made you wonder why she only revealed that information now and never interrogated you before.

"This carp had jumped the dragon's gate before you arrived in Mondstadt, pal. I studied in Fontaine and got my license a few years ago." You sipped your chamomile tea, lazily pointing at the papers on the table. "See? I'm rather upfront about what I do."

Except for the fact you graduated nearly fifty years ago, under the name "Faust."

"Paimon thinks it's because you don't exactly look like a government worker, Jianfeng..."

"What do I look like then?"

"Well, uhh... Paimon can't say..."

"Exactly," you sat up straight. "A man cannot be judged by looks, much like seas cannot be measured by a cup."

"Another Liyue proverb..." Aether muttered.

Jokes on you, they DID hire someone to simplify the documents. In addition, he asked Zhongli what your departing words meant moments prior... Admittedly, Aether's not ready to sit through another thirty minutes of him discussing what you meant this time. One literacy lesson is enough for one week.

You wouldn't know about all that. You avoid Morax– he calls himself Zhongli nowadays– like Hilichurl camps. His new appearance does little to fool you. Based on The Creator's insight, he had faked his death. The last time you had talked to him, he tried to kidnap you, so the only Archon you have the slightest semblance of trust for is Lord Barbatos. 

Speaking of Lord Barbatos, you're sure he'd love what you'll say next…

"Do you want a Fontaine proverb? Sure, here's one."

The travelers muffled their groans. Baizhu laughed heartily while Paimon pressed her head on her palm.

You chuckled.

"The robes don’t make the monk. If you can't label me from my looks then I shall do it for you. You're travelers, yet you've not seen all of what Liyue has to offer. This is what Jianfeng, a humble tax accountant, looks like, and other people in my profession can appear similarly if they chose to. What matters more is how we perform. The end."

The two travelers looked dumbfounded. 

Good. What you said was total horseshit.

"Paimon doubts it's as complic– umm, easy as that..." She droned on. 

The Creator's insights were right. Paimon is the noisest character in this "game." By then, you couldn't care much about what more she had to say. Instead, you handed the traveler a pouch.

There's no other choice than to send them on a wild goose chase.

"Yelan told me that you have no deadline in tracking The Creator down," you squinted. "But I'm no kind person. As the Liyue saying goes: return a loan on time and borrowing again will be easier. I'll only give you a daily allowance for two months. That's the only favor I will grant you."

Paimon floated near you, a lot cheekier this time. "But won't that be a pain for you?"

"How come?" You tilted your head.

"You're... Joining us, right?"

You went silent.

"Huh?"

Baizhu chuckled. He and Aether sidelined the entire conversation, yet they caught on rather quickly.

The traveler spoke, his voice was subtly smug.

"Mx. Accountant, Yelan put your name in the contract as our travel guide. And you already signed it."

------

Great, now you’re part of the wild goose chase too. Damn you, Yelan. Damn you, Wupei, for dressing up as a Good Hunter delivery boy. You can't believe she outsmarted you. Why did you even sign it– food deliveries don't ask for signatures and Mondstadt is miles away. Just because you've seen most of Teyvat for the past 500 years does not mean you have the qualifications as a travel guide– much less for a place that's a giant underground cave full of unanswered questions. Or a cave where the souls of your countrymen loitered, more specifically. 

Baizhu was concerned about this and, uncharacteristically, offered to accompany you. You explained that he would be a liability if he joined, and he reluctantly agreed. But not before doling out an inordinate amount of medical herbs to make you smell ancient (and you are.)

Nevertheless, the three of you squandered the hours skulking around the cramped confines of the Chasm. So far, you've provided minor historical context and directed them to a few shortcuts as the traveler brandished his weapon.

It's also worth mentioning that, when compared to his sister, Aether's swordplay falls short. As Lumine would say, "Aim for the neck." He swings more defensively than she does, and his range is shorter. You're no expert, but after more than a century of traveling with two fierce sword masters, you couldn't help but nitpick.

You grilled him about his sword abilities a few times, and he responded with sugar-coated remarks about your unusual outfit. His attempts to discredit you were poor, but hearing him speak is a rarity enough. You didn't mind his comments. In comparison to Lumine's snarkiness, he is more straightforward and pleasant.

"The coast is clear– This should be the place the Creator was last seen," you muttered. "Allegedly."

"Ooohhh!!! Paimon is so excited!"

Aether grunted, sharing her sentiment as a typical voiceless protagonist. His childlike wonder makes up for his lack of speech as he walked past you.

You watched him run without looking back for both you and Paimon.

Unsurprisingly, he was most excited– he's the twin The Creator chose. You would be ecstatic too if the person who set you out on an exhilarating journey came returned. The difference is that you would probably curse them for it. 

"You don't look happy for someone who's gonna see The Creator, Jianfeng," Paimon said. She nearly tugged your hoodie before stopping herself when she noticed you glaring.

"Um. You okay?"

"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean that– I'm fine." You palmed your forehead. "Just a bit light-headed."

"Do you wanna take a rest for a while? It's not good to force yourself. We can't greet The Creator if we're exhausted! You gotta look like your best self! You don’t want Them to see you like this, do you?"

You smiled weakly. 

Just shut up, Paimon.

"Right. Right."

"Hey, is this the location?"

Aether pointed to a place with a light source.

You gulped.

“That's right.”

“Oh wow! Paimon heard that They like these mysterious white-blue flowers! Paimon doesn’t know what it's called though…”

As Aether knelt to examine the odd flower meadow, you attempted to mask your uneasiness. The flooring in this spot was soft and fragile; approaching the flowerbed risked breaking it. Yelan's reports were correct, but they shouldn't have been. After all, these are--

“Inteyvats.”

Paimon and Aether looked at you.

Your eyes didn’t tear away. You were frozen from your spot.

“These are called inteyvats.” You said, lips trembling. Your forehead creased and you grabbed your arm while looking at the batch of flowers, tense. “They are Khaenri’ah’s national flower… They're a symbol for wanderers far from home–”

Your face paled and your hand began to sweat.

It seems like the Chasm-Yaksha story quest happened before "Requiem of The Echoing Depths." But why?

How come Aether knew who Yelan was, but doesn't know what inteyvats are?

You shook.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

If they’re here then... Maybe That “Creator” is actually around here too.

You've never met Them before. Strange how not once did you both cross paths when you supposedly share the same face. But just because you haven't met them yet doesn't mean you want to. 

All your muscles tensed up while your eyes squinted as if searching for a dead nation from far away.

You stepped backward.

"Hey, watch out!"

You had a mini heart attack as the steps gave in. Aether reached out. You were unable to grab his arm and Paimon's futile attempt to pull you up by your hood failed. 

You tripped. 

Unsteadily kneeling up, you unusually saw the world had taken colors way beyond an azure hue. It took you seconds before realizing your predicament.

You went completely still.

Your azure spectacles are cracked and out of reach. Your hood was lowered. All that was covering your head was a cotton face mask. The luminous stones gave your (h/c) hair an unwanted spotlight and your imperfect (e/c) eyes displayed fear in full view.

They could see your eyes– your face. No words were further spoken.

… Oh.

Aether's eyes widened and his chest sank as it heaved at the realization of who he was blindly following into the depths. He stepped forward and his dull blade clanged, subtly reminding you of his repertoire.

"JIANFENG IS THE FAKE CREATOR?!" 

It all happened way too quickly.

Paimon screeched as she lividly floated beside Aether. She had been stomping on air with her clenched fists. Neither of you truly heard her.

Because from then on, you were enemies.

…

Aether unsheathed his dull blade.

You drew what you thought and hoped was your last breath. It had been more than 500 years, and you longed for a moment of respite. 

If you were just another body that got in the way between the protagonist and his goals, then so be it. You'd gladly throw yourself into his blade and die as you've been dutifully commanded by the threads of fate.

"Jianfeng…" The traveler spat your fake name with malice as he sprung toward you in a single step. 

He managed to slice your thigh.

"I shouldn't have trusted you."

You winced.

You've compared how different he acts compared to his sister the entire time, but this was the first you've seen their startling resemblance. 

Aether looks just as numb as Lumine when placed into the role of a villain. He didn't look like an animal that wanted to tear you to shreds– he looked disappointed. 

You reluctantly walked backward, gritting your teeth as he skillfully slashed in your direction. His attack on your leg stung, and your hand flew to conceal the wound. 

As expected from a silent protagonist, he seems to know that the smallest sentences bite the most. But his words are meaningless. You knew Aether only said it because of the rumors about you. He wouldn't know the wishes of those who died with lingering regrets as much as you and your previous traveling companions. 

All he has is lip service and surface-level heroism. A facade that is slowly deteriorating ever since Inazuma.

You could dodge his attacks easily. In one flick of the wrist, you could bounce him off, but…

Many moons ago, you made up your mind on how you wished to go. You will not cower away and accept judgment with resolve. Retribution is coming to pass and with livid breaths, you'll let Aether draw his blade. You longed for the sweet release of death to be under this world's rightful protagonist.

…

However, in a blink of an eye, a fluttering grey cape obstructed death's view.

CLANG!!!

Blonde hair. 

A dark violet mask. 

Unmistakable starry eyes. 

And a long, pointed cloak.

"How... How did you get here?" You whispered breathlessly. 

He must've emerged from the wormhole below this platform.

The blonde gave you an all-too-familiar look that says he knows all that he needs to know.

The traveler froze in shock while the third person dashed in to capture your waist before he scooped you up in one quick motion. His body felt cold against yours, much to your dismay. 

He briefly exhaled through his nose; his stamina unaffected. "I'm always watching."

"Tch."

You'd call him out for being arrogant, but you know he's telling the truth. This man gathers knowledge as if his life depended on it- and you wish you had a better comparison because there is no life within him other than an amalgamation of pure jadedness.

The blonde man keeps this world's secrets, and no amount of proverbs will make you more seasoned and knowledgeable than Dainsleif, the Bough Keeper.

And this all-knowing yet curious individual appeared both pissed and enamored.

First and foremost, he is furious at Aether for performing such an atrocious "stunt." To draw a blade against the one to whom he vowed vassalage served to make his heart race for the worst reasons. Yet, Dain still has his patience, courtesy to his immortality, and you by his side.

His eyes searched yours. Longing for some shred of blissful recognition you might've felt after meeting him again but couldn't ignore the engulfing dread that settled in your irises.  You could tell he was fighting hard not to melt under your touch.

Dainsleif promised before that he would never disobey his lord’s commands. He was true to his word and never once appeared in the past few centuries

But seasons change.

He made his choice. Dainsleif pulled away.

"My memories have all but faded, but I know that underneath those clothes, you're still the same person, my Lord." 

His gaze was smoldering. The Bough Keeper did not take one step closer, but the way he stared at you already felt suffocating. He didn't and he won't come close. His Khaenriah'n eyes sufficed in expressing the loneliness he dealt with when he traversed Teyvat without you. He didn't have to hold you tight. His presence is intense enough.

You thought you were the one monitoring his actions through Kaeya, but Dainsleif had always been the better stalker.

You don't know the hell you put him through by leaving him on his lonesome.

Dainsleif smiled delicately. Had you never traveled with him, it would've been an unpredictable expression. As much as you hate reminiscing about that era, you know that he reserves that look for you alone. He was elated when he saw you wear the scarf he gave you.

Skinning that cryo abyss mage was a lot of work.

You should've thrown it away, but you couldn't, not when it was one of your good memories with him and her. Not when he worked tirelessly to master sewing just for you. 

Now there's no way he won't assume that there's more to it than keeping warm.

"Lord (Y/n)..." 

Dainsleif's voice was still soothing.

Aether gave him a strange look. He didn't think of him as the kind to address someone by that title, but then he remembered that Dainsleif was once an honorable knight. He just didn't know that the Twilight Sword used to serve you. Nor did he know that (Y/n) was your real name.

"Stop." You commanded, but your shaky voice betrayed you.

You haven't heard that name in a long time.

"... At last. It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Dainsleif awkwardly spoke as if you both lacked time.

How dull. The three of you always had enough time.

And you have already picked a route to follow. Having the Creator's wisdom already gave you an advantage in predicting what would happen, and each day made you wonder when your paths might diverge. You didn't deny fate when it arrived. Lumine chose the Abyss Order, while Dainsleif seek to oppose it. 

They were both suffocatingly possessive. If Khaenri'ah shunned you as a heretic creation, Dainsleif and Lumine prized you as their hysteric humanoid.  They both desired you, but neither was willing to share. They tugged and pulled as if you were not capable of thinking for yourself.

And what did you do? You opted for a strategic retreat. You have no malice against Teyvat but no will to save it either. After knowing that your old companions represent these two sides, you wanted nothing to do with their metaphorical coin.

As a creature abandoned by its nation, can you be blamed for having no plans of carrying the burden for those who died and survived?

You shook your head. 

"You reek of corruption, Twilight Sword."

He grunted, and yet he pretended not to hear you.

Dainsleif pushed you behind him, eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at your leg.

"Don't act tough," he said, despite tracing traces of his curse with his free hand. "Stand back, you're hurt."

Aether struck first. 

"HIYAH!!!"

Dainsleif parried effortlessly.

He smiled, realizing what he had done. 

When alone, he's the Bough Keeper, but with you, he stands firm as the Twilight Sword.

"Why are you helping them...?" Their swords clashed against each other in a temporary stalemate. "They're the impostor! They're dangerous!"

Despite his grievances, you were somewhat proud that Aether took your advice to heart when he swiftly aimed for Dainsleif's neck. Even if his efforts were futile.

He's no longer angry, just confused. Aether thought to himself that if Dainsleif is keen on protecting you, then are you his sister’s enemy as well? 

But Aether wasn't sure if his views aligned with his sibling. 

"Not to brag, but your form is poor." Dainsleif retorted, pointing vaguely at Aether. He pursed his lips, unamused, before slashing Aether's defenses in one strong cut. 

Dainsleif kicked him down, forcing him to gasp sharply. His heel dug into the flesh of his cheek. Paimon shook afraid as she watched her companion weakly grab his opponent’s heel.

The Bough Keeper’s eyes darkened. He only had one thought in mind while Aether pathetically wormed under him. 

Any man who believes in baseless rumors does not deserve to bask in your presence.

"If my memory serves, My Lord could barely pick up a claymore or hunt a boar. It would be hopeless for them to try and beat you in a spar.” He said with a faint but recognizable teasing lilt. “I'm simply standing in for them."

You could disagree with his claims if you wanted, but he'd reply with a subtly sarcastic "that would be a miraculous development, indeed." Dainsleif never trusted that you can protect yourself because that's what he was there for. But you're done using his services.

Aether pushed Dain away and distanced himself. His bruised cheek and bloody nose could not deter him from his new mission.

The traveler tilted his chin upward. “Dai–”

"Kill me, traveler."

The men flinched.

You walked to your fallen enemy, not caring for how Dainsleif caught your wrist.

"Take my life– before he tries something funny."

After sending Dainsleif an accusatory glance, he pushed you aside forcefully.

"Traveler, your battle is with me."

“I’m your target!"

Dainsleif's face hardened, glaring at you. 

You smirked. You can't help but wonder how much 300 years alone had impacted him. He used to be so careful not to offend you and so remorseful when he did. Seems like the captain would bare his fangs with just about anyone that stood in his way. Including his old master. You were happy about this development, yet sad all the same.

You’ve grown tired of everything too, haven’t you, Dain?

"Paimon is so confused, please stop it!"

No one listened to her.

“Traveler, you’re looking for the Creator, right? They’re not here. I lured you here to kill you.”

Dainsleif sneered. “They’re lying. It's possible that everything is under your sister's orders to redirect your path.”

“Lumine has nothing to do with this. I’ve lied about many things but this is not one of them.” You lied nonchalantly.

Aether faltered.

"You know Lumine?"

Dainsleif gripped your shoulder. “(Y/N).” 

You huffed and elbowed him. “Shut it, Dain. Your corruption is beyond saving. Don't butt in like this is about you."

"Ngh..."

Dainsleif's eyes softened, visibly stung by your words. He bit his lip and looked at the floor for a brief moment.

Aether and Paimon were speechless. They did not expect you to speak so harshly nor did they expect to see him look hurt.

You looked back at the traveler.

"Traveler, why don't you prove yourself worthy of being the main character and take us both out?"

Paimon shrieked and palmed her cheeks.

"W-Wait! Why don't we all just talk instead?!" Paimon screamed.

"Paimon's right."

Aether sheathed his sword back. You and Dain met each other's eyes, before staring at the traveler, confused.

"Jianfeng..."

His hand shakily pointed to your leg.

Saturated blood oozes from your open wound. No means a regular sight and unwise to call it a vibrant hue.

Your blood glitches. 

It spills, yet evaporates into thin air. You stared at your wound as if it wasn't yours. You forgot that you were supposed to cover it, but–

Would a normal person's blood look like red-black cubes?

There's only one other person Aether knew had red-black cubes. 

And it was the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.

"Was I wrong…?"

Aether's knees buckled, shaking. His eyes stared up apologetically, mouth agape.

"Are you… The real Creator?"

...

Dainsleif went rigid. He felt the air shift but he needn't look behind. The Twilight Sword knew you didn't like that question at all.

Your expression dampened.

The Traveler had successfully provoked you.

"My Lord, please stand back." 

…

The silence was unbearably long.

And then, you clicked your tongue.

"No." You said firmly. "No, I don't think I should."

You stomped your foot.

And the Chasm trembled.

The floating mushrooms scurried for a place to hide as the unstable foundations of the upside-down city crashed their weight down. The floating debris shook and fell in the sudden momentum– asphalt slimes shriveled and the cave's miniature plateaus slipped like pencil shavings with a thunderous thud.

Rubbles echoed every moment or two, threatening to collapse.

You can't think of a better way to answer him than this.

In one stomp of your foot, the underground mines shook as much as an ancient dragon's tantrums. There was no visible effort put into causing this phenomenon. 

The air began to weigh heavily.

You stole Dainsleif's sword without him noticing before pointing it beside Aether's neck. You looked down on him with your chin up.

There was no divine work in play, no illusions, no elements. Every Archon both dead and alive knew that your measly power cannot summon the elements.

But gravity is in your hands.

"Enough." You commanded, voice cold and piercingly authoritative. "Just kill me, traveler. Kill me and go on your merry way, before I end this game right here– before the Chasm crumbles."

"Your Grace–"

Aether begged, kneeling on small shaky pointed rocks.

You let out a guttural groan, exasperated. He heard your throat strain itself as you answered him bitterly.

"WRONG. I am Their Impostor. Teyvat had abandoned me long ago. I bore no "divine" power nor "will" of my own, instead, Rhinedottir molded me to Their likeness."

If you told him that at the restaurant, Aether would've believed you. Your aura was akin to Albedo's, but there was something the chief alchemist lacked.

Divine blood.

You inched the blade closer. The blood that spilled from his neck was unlike yours. It was red. It was shapeless. They were not cubes.

"T-That doesn't sound right!" Came Aether's shaky reply. "You HAVE to be The Creator, Y-Your Grace! No one else can replicate your blood– and the way you shook the Chasm just now it's–"

Aether speaks like Lord Barbatos.

"And so what?"

"H-Huh?"

Enough.

You've heard this multiple times from Kairos.

Your blood began to boil.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

"So what if I look like Them? If I have Their powers?" You said, eyes lifeless. 

"So what if I'm The real Creator? Do you think I'd come back? After how this world had treated me? That I would graciously fix this realm's problems. Am I a tool? A plot device like you? Do you think I'll motivate the Knights, help Morax find a replacement, reverse Inazuma's grievances, reinstate Rukkhadevata's form and dignity with the oh-so goodness of my heart?"

Aether gulped. He did not speak. You were right.

The Chasm continued to shake.

You gritted your teeth. "The greed in your eyes disgusts me. You've traveled far enough, surely you know how inherently selfish this world is? Aren't you tired, Traveler?" 

There's one more thing hidden within his eyes that you forgot to mention.

Aether cried.

It was regret.

You put away Dainsleif's sword, clanking it down the floor. You smiled crookedly and cupped Aether's cheek,

before reaching for his neck. 

"If you can't bring yourself to kill me, why don't we both stop breathing, together?"

"(Y/n), that's enough!"

Dainsleif ordered. 

The vibrations stopped.

You didn't know what came over you. Was it survival instincts? Baseless hope? The desperation in his voice? Or a fragment of trust you had left from when you traveled with him.

Dainsleif reached his hand out. His frown was not a display of toughness, but genuine concern.

"It's no longer safe here. The Abyss Order has sensed our movements and I can tell they're heading our way. We'll leave. Now."

His hand looked welcoming, warm, and enticing, but your heart was not in it.

Your eyes wandered elsewhere.

You recalled a distant memory from long ago. Barbatos often told you that "He who leaves a good name does not die poor." and you wondered why. And so, you foolishly lived more than a hundred human lives in search of a proper answer. Immortality devours the soul, and you expected that after the fifteenth life you may not grasp the true meaning behind his ramblings.

But at that moment, you looked at Aether’s pained eyes and got your answer.

Ah.

"I got it."

You took a step back near the cliff's edge, facing the two men. Dainsleif gradually prepared himself for a sprint. The faint crunch of your shattered glasses resonated through the cave, and if you took another step, you'd fall.

Yelan's reports state that there should be a portal below this platform. It should be the same place Dainsleif warped from.

You're uncertain that it's still open.

But hey.

Haven't you always wished for something that only has a 50/50 chance?

"This is my farewell as Jianfeng, a tax accountant."

You jumped off with a big stupid grin.

For a brief moment, Dainsleif felt as if icicles were pressed against his internal organs. His eyes widened.

"LORD (Y/N)!!!"

He did not hesitate– your most loyal retainer dashed forward like a wild animal and jumped with you.

Aether watched how his Creator sank deep into the Chasm from above in pure horror.

You lost yourself.

This was the stupidest asspull you've ever done in the past 500 years.

You roared with laughter as Dainsleif pulled you close to protect you from the fall. He longed to hear your laughter, but this sound was disjointed and airy– an inexpensive imitation. Dainsleif closed his eyes and groaned almost inaudibly. He's been starving for your touch, and he can no longer hold back. 

Dain snuggled against you, his fingers tangled in your hair. You smelled like violetgrass.

"I'll never leave you alone again." He whispered desperately, wanting to add that this was his new oath but couldn't due to lack of air, something you had plenty of. You did not hear it. All you heard were the flaps of his cape.

The air pressure prickles into your skin. As you both plunged into something similar to the abyss, his hands roamed around your back, keeping your scarf in place as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You did nothing to stifle your misplaced laughter. 

You wanted to tell her that you finally understood Barbatos' proverbs, his everything. 

The portal should close soon, but you'll both make it.

Should your body rot away in the depths of Chasm's shallow wind, you hope to witness the endless cycle of life again without those azure-colored lenses–

"You can't leave me. Never."

–as no one else but Lord (Y/n) (L/n), and their most loyal retainer, Dainsleif, the Twilight Sword.

—-----------

“Your Highness, it appears that Dainsleif had captured Your Grace.”

“Traitor, but he kept his promise.” She spoke, not in a way that betrayed any emotions. The Princess said it as what it was: a fact.

In one hand, the Princess poured herself a glass of wine, elegantly gulping the contents in one go. She couldn’t be bothered to hold it with both hands when the other held a priceless artifact. Once she placed her empty glass on the silk-covered table, she lazily beckoned the Abyss Lector forward.

“Burn all the inteyvats left in the Chasm.”

The Lector, Enjou, hesitantly raised his head. “But Your Highness–”

“I did not cultivate them for my brother to find.” She said, looking at the cracked azure shards sitting on her palm. “It was for Them, and you failed to lead Them there.”

The Abyss Princess lovingly kissed the broken shards.

“I wonder…” Lumine looked up.

"What is it like to finally see the world without these glasses, Your Grace?"