#Abyss Order Enemies

[genshinresource]

Genshin Impact Enemies & Monsters: Hydro/Cryo/Electro Abyss Mages

#genshin impact #enemy artworks #PNGs #screenshots #Common Enemies #Abyss Order Enemies #Abyss Mages

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya's made peace with the fact that Diluc resents him and anticipates him to act accordingly, having set off his wrath before. He is mildly afraid of actually angering Jean, and would do what he can to ensure he never sees it.

But the one that would devastate him the most would be genuine anger from the Traveler.

#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. ); #//Bc they; like Diluc; know his heritage #//They KNOW he's Khaenri'ahn; and even that he has ties to the Order #//And yet they NEVER thought to think of him as an enemy nor changed their view of him #//They are PRECIOUS to him for that #//A friend he can finally start trusting more and more of himself #//If he were to do anything that changes that; to make them so Upset with him for whatever reason? #//He would actually be so gutted #//The Traveler wasn't as close to him as Diluc once was; yet they accepted him so easily #//Granted; the circumstances of revelation were Very Different #//But it's still something enough to make them Safe in his mind #//Safer and more trustworthy than even Diluc #//No matter how much Kaeya wishes he could go back to that #//No matter how much Kaeya is tempted to try and bridge the gap and share what he knows with him again #//Heck I'm veering off course kjdrbg #//Tldr; Traveler very dear to Kae. If he ever make them Big Mad; he would be Hella Sad #//Makes his Abyss!verse hit all the harder juuust a bit #//He's so afraid of messing things up between them; but then can't help self-sabotaging sometimes #//Bc if something's already damaged; it'll hurt less once/if it breaks...right? #hc; kaeya

[petitexmagician]

You guys can't lie to me and say you don't see bags under Arlecchino's eyes - what's with Fontaine peeps having bags under their eyes? Like Neuvilette makes sense, so does Wriothesley so what the hell is Arlecchino's deal if she's making the prophecy happen?

#ooc // let's start the show! #one is a judge another is a prison warden and the last of the three is just apart of a group doing shit to get a high god's attention #at this rate for no reason except the group that actually has a valid reason #Like Signora and Wanderer had actual reasons to be apart of the Fauti at this point Arl does too if she knew Furina was hiding the prophecy #at this point it just makes me question why the Abyss Order and Fauti aren't working together if their goals are basically the same- #hello you both have a common enemy team up so I can take you both down?

[reginrokkr]

𝐋𝐗𝐗. Parallels between the God of Wisdom's speech and the Twilight Sword.

Why are there still so many people striving to move forward even when they know the path ahead is dangerous and painful? It's because people don't only live for themselves. They have families, loved ones, friends, and communities. They have dreams that they are still trying to achieve.

[...] The path of life is long, and it's hard for us to see the destination. This leads us to ask a lot of difficult questions... What's the meaning of life? What's the purpose of my existence? Why do I keep experiencing pain and loss? Of course, the most comfortable choice is to stop progressing, give up thinking, and just keep repeating whatever you're already familiar with. Some venture in search of the world's secrets to prevent rapidly approaching, yet still unknown, world-shattering catastrophes. [...] Life is not just about yourself. Each and every one of your actions shapes you and the world around you. Therefore, many people will strive forward to forge new paths, even if they have to endure great pain to do so. Once you begin your journey on that same difficult yet rewarding path, you'll come to know the answers to those big, existential questions, yet they will no longer fell as life-defining as they did before.

                                                                                                        —Nahida: Sapientia Oromasdis I.

I just finished Nahida's character quest and to be honest... I'm at a loss of words. I was already finding it interesting due to the potential connections with the Akasha and the manner Rhukkadevata made it happen to heal partly the world from this forbidden knowledge (which it ended up having solid connections), but this last part of the quest wrecked my feelings thinking about Dain.

We have this man who used to be the captain of the royal knights of a country that fell by the hand of the gods, thus he lost everything. He found himself in the position of need to find what his destiny is, most likely to understand the purpose of his existence after being denied death. After 500 years, he'd have every reason to wallow in the past. Every day he pursues the Abyss Order is a reminder of his failure to protect them, or to try to change the mentality of great part of Khaenri'ah at the time following King Irmin's belief if he was under the last Regent's orders, who seemed to want to change this but ultimately failed too.

But despite how painful his road of self-imposed and not enjoyable solitude is, for all the grief he still feels in his dreams, despite finding every obstacle one could ever find in his way, he managed to move forward and his destination in life is clear and guided by his actions. What this destination may be or what he truly wants to achieve remains a mystery, but I can only imagine that based on the Travail trailer and his strong belief in human potential in this world (which there is, so much that it gives Archons strength and in company to celestial beings they can achieve a lot —see the 2.6 Interlude Chapter—) he truly wants to fight for humanity. Even if that means fighting against the same people he once protected before Khaenri'ah's fall.

Maybe in all his sorrow, Dain still may have moments of existential doubts along the way. He discarded himself to the point of not even being able to name one place he likes in the entirety of Teyvat, thus maybe he lost all sense of self-importance. But as Nahida says here, it's not about himself alone. His actions, the people that will benefit from it even if they'll never know who made it possible and the way the world will be shaped thanks to them, these will become part of who he is, too.

#◟༺✦༻◞ events to be remembered in blue veins ┊addendum.┊ #I love Dain so much like you have no idea #he'd have every reason in this world #to become bananas and be a potential enemy to everyone #if considering that the Abyss Order runs away from him #is telling enough of his strength #but he's right there after losing everything #still striving to do something #no matter how many times ghosts of the past may haunt him #or no matter how many times he finds adversities #along his path like the Black Knight Serpents were #despite the beautiful and tragic gist of events with Halfdan #he's still there /despite/ what he may feel or think or suffer #and I love this to bits #his strength #his kindness #despite all those 500 years of wear and tear #he really is a great character #and I can't wait to see him again and learn more about him

[freckledbastard]

being both a zhongli and kaeya fan is so painful because fics always talk about the archons destroying khaenri'ah but it wasn't them.... it was the heavenly principles (whatever they are) stop dragging my man (zhongli)'s name through the mud he's an eastern dragon/qilin mix he's a good egg!!!!!! in fact I think zhongli and kaeya should be FRIENDS

#genshin impact #gi spoilers #arent they also the ones who imposed erosion onto the archons and other old timey beings like azhdaha or smth.... #theyre the real enemy #inb4 the worlds most awkward team up where the traveler the archons the fatui and the abyss order all work to take down celestia #they all have differing plans for what would come After but they all agree on that one

[imaginarypasta]

this is gonna be some really ramble-y thoughts on immortality (and its implications for khaenriah) in genshin

bc i was thinking about how dissatisfied i was by how when characters are paired up (e.g., in their lore or friendships or associations) it’s really often along immortal-mortal lines. because i just personally don’t really find immortal-immortal relationships particularly interesting just generally speaking (removes a lot of (emotional) urgency, takes away potentially interesting questions about humanity and mortality, etc. just ultimately isn’t the kind of story i like to hear) (and specifically i was a bit disappointed in how that manifests in wanderer’s story although that doesn’t actually end up being that relevant to what i’m gonna say) so i find it quite difficult to really be interested by those characters or dynamics

however, despite this angle, i think that such insistences, however subtle they may be, actually do something really interesting for khaenriahns specifically. that is, if immortal characters are constantly being paired up with one another, it creates a divide between them and mortal characters. not necessarily an antagonistic one, but at least one where humanity (broadly speaking) is defined specifically by mortality. that is, it’s defined against immortals (versus how we might otherwise define it against, say, plants or animals, or in other genres, even something like aliens or robots). which is to  say it fits with its own genre, yes, but also that that is just a question i enjoy.

it seems to me as though this isn’t a teyvat-specific belief as it would be applied to khaenriahns (otherwise, why would they be cursed w/ immortality (in part)? like, it would just be sort of random. which like sure maybe you could say something like it wasn’t how they were defining themselves and it was a teyvat-specific idea to implement on them through the curse. but honestly that seems convoluted and, while interesting, not something i’m going to explore here). that is, their curse is specifically meant to target this defining characteristic of their humanity, which is in turn a defining characteristic of their identities (both personal and national). in short, the use of this dichotomy works really nicely with khaenriah’s lore imo.

and i think this was very surprising to me to realize because if khaenriah is also determined by its alchemy, this definition of themselves against immortality is really surprising! for a very long time, i was expecting the thread of alchemy and thus longevity in life to play a role in their story, but not at all like this--perhaps something they were searching for, something they found and were punished for finding it because it made them too powerful, overall just something they wanted.

but then like, if it’s not, how were they defining death and by extension life? what implications does this have for how they were interacting with the world?

but also, what were their goals with alchemy? because in my head, the main goal is generally understood to be immortality. which if you remove, why were they doing it? i’m also familiar with spontaneous generation as a major goal, but it also seems like they already got there (or at least some of them did). so maybe i’m totally blowing their thing with alchemy out of proportion. maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as i’m thinking of it as. or it opens up alchemy to a number of different purposes.

#personal #and i have toyed with their relationship to the abyss (study? enemy? both? etc?) as a potential angle #and i do think their view of like... idk community? relationships? is certainly curious #both in how it interacted with other nations but also like w/i khaenriah itself #um which maybe im putting too much emphasis on my very specific view of the abyss order's/alberich clan's goals #(sorry! i love them and also they make up a good number of khaenriahns we know so) #(which is like... it kind of seems like they want to help everyone else if they found some sort of cure for themselves? but also maybe im #not reading that correctly/in a generally approved on way) #also like. it's been a little bit since i've played the game and i need to catch up and remember actual things abt it #so pls take everything im chewing on rn w a grain of salt #i might not be chewing on it again in a few months. yk #tldr is. i like how the lore complements their curse. and i’m curious abt what such a definition implies for them

[bluegekk0]

the exiled god and the old light

au lore below the cut:

the sibling gods who guarded the dreams and nightmares of mortals. in the past, they were united in the dream realm, but grimm's fondness towards the mortals, and the radiance's obsession with living up to their father's legacy brought conflict upon them, and the resulting battle ended with grimm's defeat and exile from the dream realm

---

grimm has always been a rebellious type. unlike his sister, he did not care for worship, and instead found pleasure in mingling with the mortals. he watched over their nightmares, but was no stranger to causing them on purpose and feeding on their essence for his own enjoyment. however, he was just as fascinated by the arts created by the mortals, and grew fond of theatre in particular. unfortunately, his actions did not go unnoticed by his sister, which caused conflict between them, eventually resulting in a battle that he lost. he was exiled from the dream realm, and weakened after the fight, he was forced to flee to the nightmare realm, now split from the plane of dreams. he continued to guard and feed on the nightmares of bugs, but in order to sustain his physical form, he became a slave to the endless cycle of death and rebirth, as the nightmare heart was unable to support the body indefinitely and needed to recycle the flame. he had the choice to burn the physical form and remain in the nightmare realm, and yet, over the years, he gained a certain fondness for the mortals, a fondness which eventually turned to envy. he saw them create bonds, fall in love and make the best of their short lives. he craved a deep connection with someone, but feared getting attached, as he knew that he would outlive any of his loved ones. the troupe, which he formed soon after his exile, was the closest he had to a family, though it wasn't enough: he was still lonely. he tried to distract himself with the pleasures offered by the mortal plane, he drank wine, he made love, and yet it still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his heart. he wouldn't find true happiness until he met the king of hallownest, whom he would start a relationship with following the latter's hibernation

---

the radiance despised her brother's affinity for the mortals. unlike many gods of the dream realm, she did not possess a physical form. she believed in the old ways, where the worship received by the lower beings was the only acceptable relationship with them. she saw grimm's actions as betrayal of their father's trust, and believed that he was not worthy of the powers given to him. after grimm's exile, she remained in the dream realm, unwilling to follow in the footsteps of the other gods. what she did not realize was that the mortals, while easy to intimidate, worked in simple ways. with many of the gods residing in their plane, they gravitated towards believing in what they could see and touch, and over time abandoned the radiance. watching her followers slowly leave her terrified her, but her breaking point would not come until later, when the moths abandoned their ways and chose to follow the pale king. she felt nothing but disdain for him from the moment he arrived in hallownest. she knew he was not born a higher being, that he was a false god, and yet he would still slowly gain followers, a fact which infuriated her. over time, she was almost entirely forgotten, and in a desperate attempt to regain her worship and preserve her father's legacy, she began to infect the mortals' dreams, breaking their minds and forcing them to follow her. however, while the infection claimed the lives of many and lasted many years, it was eventually brought to an end by one of the pale king's vessels. she died overwhelmed the void united, an ancient enemy, the same being her father sacrificed himself to defeat and seal away down in the abyss many centuries prior

(note: the details of their backstories might still change, as i'm actively thinking of new ideas and trying to piece together the chunks of story i have in my head)

#hollow knight #feral pk au #hk grimm #nightmare king grimm #hk radiance #the radiance #au designs #gekko.art #nkg #radiance

[artful-aries]

Hi, can I get “ when you’re in danger” with Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, and Tighnari? Ty! Enjoyed your other ily HCs

Hello hello! I’m so glad you’ve liked my other content! I hope you enjoy this as well :3

When You’re In Danger - Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, Tighnari

Diluc

His blood runs cold as his worst nightmare becomes reality. He knew it was only a matter of time before you got pulled into his personal war against the Abyss Order, yet now that the day was here he found himself regretting every choice he had ever made that led to this

The Vision wielder who is normally calm and collected turns savage, almost feral in his desperation to ensure your safety. Part of it is his duty to being Mondstatd’s silent protector, but the other part of it is his almost crippling fear of losing another person that he loves

Caution is thrown to the wind as he fights though his enemies, his fiery gaze only focused on getting to you as quick as possible. It doesn’t matter if he gets injured, he will see you rescued at all costs

It doesn’t take long for him to practically obliterate the Abyss mages, standing before you panting heavily with the exertion he just put himself through.

Diluc’s clothes are singed, his hair crackles slightly with the remnants of electro, and there’s a look in his eyes that makes your heart sink to your stomach. He looks like a different man entirely

He can see the way you look at him, almost scared, yet he feels almost detached from reality. His present feelings mix with ones from his memories, making it hard for him to focus and calm both of you down

Diluc eventually reaches out a gloved hand and tentatively brushes your hair. When you don’t pull away, he’ll immediately grab you up and hold you tightly to his chest, where you can feel just how hard his heart is pounding. It was almost like he was more terrified than you had been

After this run in with the Abyss Order, Diluc doesn’t let you out of his sight if he can help it, and if business truly calls him away he would still find a way to keep tabs on you. He’s willing to go so far as to ask Kaeya to watch over you if it came to that

For a while afterwards, he is pretty shaken up by the ordeal, as it was a chilling reminder of how easily he could lose you

Having you reassure him and soothe him helps, and eventually he gets back to his old self, but the underlying anxiety will always be there. He doesn’t know who he would be without you, and isn’t keen on finding out any time soon

Kaeya

The usually quippy, unbothered Cavalry Captain would turn uncharacteristically grim and serious upon finding out you were in danger. He becomes as chilled as his cryo Vision as he shamelessly uses the Knights of Favonius’ resources to track down who kidnapped you

Whether it’s hilichurls, treasure hoarders, the Fatui, or any other conceivable threat, Kaeya won’t waste time cultivating a plan to rescue you. He would prefer to do this alone, but he’s not above getting the Knights to help him out if there is an overwhelming number of opponents for him to handle by himself

It’s in rescuing you that his hidden talents come to light; not only is he able to pull strings to bring about his enemy’s downfall, but he is proficient in strategic combat. He didn’t earn the title of Cavalry Captain for no reason after all

He makes quick work of his enemies, being surprisingly level headed despite the situation. This sort of thing is what he is used to doing, although the stakes are higher now that you’re thrown into the mix

Once you’re officially rescued he might make a few flirtatious comments about being your knight in shining armor, but if you were to look carefully you’d see the slight furrow of his brows and the subtle tremble of his hands; Kaeya’s worried about you

After a small bit of reassurance from you that you’re okay, Kaeya will smile at you and resume his usual coy, flirtatious behavior

Even after the incident he’s not exactly clingy or overly anxious about your whereabouts and safety. Living will always come with danger regardless if he kept you glued at the hip or let you do as you pleased, so why not let you be happy?

That being said, he will secretly arrange for more patrols for the Knights in areas that he knows you frequent. If there was one positive to being the Cavalry Captain, it was his ability to pull a few strings to ensure your safety that would still leave him with free time to see you

If you happened to make a comment about how often you saw the Knights of Favonius patrolling more frequently, Kaeya would smirk to himself before telling you that they simply are earning their keep. Even if you suspected he had something to do with the more frequent patrols, he would feign ignorance

He prefers to keep how hard he works to keep you safe a secret, as he doesn’t want you feeling guilty or worried in any way. You deserved to live a carefree life while he did all the work behind the scenes

Ayato

Like Diluc, you being out in danger is his worst nightmare come to life. He had his reservations from the beginning of getting involved with you due to how many enemies he had as the head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commission

However, dire circumstances are a regular Tuesday for the blue haired man, and despite his rising anxiety over the circumstances he is absolutely using every tool in his arsenal to ensure your safe return

Due to his position, he’s not exactly at liberty to swoop in and save you himself no matter how desperately he wants to. Carelessly jumping into situations for a man of his position could prove to create instability between the Commissions or give his other enemies a chance to strike while he is distracted

Therefore, Ayato sends the people he trusts most from the Shuumatsuban for your search and rescue. They are the only people in all of Inazuma that he would trust with such a delicate task, and has complete confidence that they will bring you back safe and unharmed

Naturally, their loyalty to Ayato makes failing him not an option, and they rescue you without a hitch and bring you back to the Kamisato residence. Seeing you returned brings an immense amount of relief to him, and he welcomes you back with open arms and apologizes for his lapse of judgment that enabled you to get kidnapped in the first place

It is a mistake that he intends to never make again. From now on, you’ll be shadowed by someone of the Shuumatsuban whether you know it or not, or on occasion personally escorted somewhere by Ayato himself when he finds an excuse to break away from his work momentarily

This arrangement is non negotiable for him; the kind of risks that come with being close to a man of his status are just far too great for you to not have some level of protection. After your kidnapping you’ll never get him to reconsider other alternatives to ensure your safety

Though his decision is calm and rational, he buries the genuine fear of losing you that the situation brought forth into his heart. He knows he cannot allow it to cloud his judgment, yet it’s so hard to get rid of. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else he cares about

If the idea of you having tight security truly bothers you enough to the point where you are upset with him, Ayato will consider making a compromise and just have Thoma look after you. With the two of them focused on making sure you’re safe and sound, you’re bound to never be put in danger again

Tighnari

He told you a thousand times to not go into that part of the Avidya forest until he and the other rangers could deal with a particularly bad fungi infestation in the area. But did you listen? Of course not

A scowl is permanently plastered onto his face as he focuses on driving off the fungi, wanting to get rid of them as quickly as possible so that he can ensure that you weren’t badly injured. He makes quick work of them after having dealt with them for years

However, don’t think you’re safe; Tighnari is raring to go with a lecture as he marches over to you, demanding to know what you were thinking and why you decided to not heed his advice. He compares you to his trainee forest rangers who always end up eating poisonous mushrooms

If he found that you were injured, his expression would soften as he would silently patch you up, trying to calm the anxious racing of his heart. He cared so much about your well being, but that often came out in the form of lectures and scolding rather than affection and tenderness

His irritation is obvious with the twitches of his ears, yet he stays quiet until he’s sure that you’re completely patched up before fixing you with a firm gaze, telling you that next time he expects you to listen to him when he tells you not to do something

You can’t help but feel like a child being taught a lesson, especially when Tighnari hoists you up and begins carrying you back, insisting that you shouldn’t strain yourself despite the fact that you felt completely fine. Needless to say, he continues to scold you the whole way back to Gandharva Ville

It takes a few days after the incident for him to get over his irritation, as he can’t stand when people take unnecessary risks, let alone when you do it yourself. However he knows that he can’t be mad at you forever, and you weren’t gravely injured from the incident

Despite getting over the fact that you nearly got yourself hurt, Tighnari isn’t going to trust you to go into the Avidya Forest for a long time. He’d rather accompany you to make sure you don’t do anything rash or directly go against his guidance, or he will at least make you take Collei with you

The day he finally lets you go by yourself again, he hands you a rather thick notebook full of guides and notes that he made himself, expecting you to read through it as you travel so that you don’t end up in another dangerous situation

Tighnari knows he’s a little sharp when it comes to guiding you on survival outside of Gandharva Ville, but it’s out of love and concern for your well being. If he’s not strict about this sort of thing, he knows exactly all of the terrible things that could happen to you out there

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #Diluc #Diluc x reader #Kaeya #Kaeya x reader #Ayato #Ayato x reader #Kamisato Ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #Tighnari #Tighnari x reader

[coolshadowtwins]

SVSSS System Reveal Fic round up!

If you know one that hasn’t been recc’ed, then please put it in the comments/tags! I’ll add it to the post!

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk into the Bamboo House by VeryCharismaticDragon

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate.

Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…

A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

What is Seen by CaveteDracones

…is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison? (NOTE: This one was recommended three times, and I have personally reread it multiple times. It’s one of my favorites and I really do want to read more fics in a similar vein lol)

open my lungs to let you in by ghostybreads

Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

Futility in Practice by TGP

When Luo Binghe is fourteen years old, his shizun suffers a terrible qi deviation and fever that completely changes who he is.

and judgment is just like a cup that we share by Kieron_ODuibhir

The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”

First, do no harm by Terias

Shen Qingqiu has been acting especially erratic since awakening from his three day coma after a severe qi deviation.

Mu Qingfang investigates and discovers a great many things about his new shixiong. (NOTE: This one has Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as the same soul, technically, but it still works I think!)

Show The Screenshots by A_Non_ymousWriter

When a rogue foreign System sends out a subtle virus, some outsiders are shown chat messages between a certain two transmigrators and their Systems.

AirplaneBro: nah dude shen jiu would never lay a hand on his female disciples like that, hes gay

Liu Qingge tripped on thin air while Mu Qingfang choked on his tea as Shang Qinghua (their god? creator??) casually shattered their view of their original Shen Qingiu. The fake Shen Qingqiu at least, was sharing their shock.

CucumberBro: EXCUSE ME WHAT??

CucumberBro: The fuck he is?!?! He literally GOES TO BROTHELS! LIU QINGGE FOUND HIM IN BED WITH A WOMAN THAT ONE TIME?

AirplaneBro: aight bro buckle the fuck up cuz imma take u on a joyride all about shen jiu >:)

—————-

Binghes#1Fan: I don't want to send Binghe into the Abyss...

System 2: User must comply, if User cannot do the task User will be punished and the account will be terminated.

Mobeis #1Fan: sorry bro unless ur okay w being ded af u gotta push binghe into the abyss

Ning Yingying's fists clenched. Okay, so trying to get Yuan-ge and A-Luo together would be harder than she thought.

#svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #liu qingge #yue qingyuan #luo binghe #shen jiu #fic rec #fanfic rec #system reveal

[hwaightme]

Feel alive

(masterlist) (taglist)

🌑 pairing: strictland!seonghwa x gn!singer!reader 🌑 genre: fluff, angst, dystopian, sci-fi, noir, music, lovers to enemies to lovers 🌑 summary: after escaping the confines of prestige academy you find yourself singing at 'morpheus' - an underground bar and club for strictland outcasts. except this reality, too, crumbles before you. your fate is again in the hands of the same man, and you are forced to ask yourself: what does it mean to 'feel alive'? 🌑 wordcount: 9.5k total 🌑 warnings/tags: semi-edited, authoritarian regime (strictland/z/universe z), lore-inspired, guns/gunshots, implied attack on club, implied violence, crime, alcohol/drinking, implied organised criminal networks, discussions about death/murder/execution, nihilism/existentialism, 'bout as dark as the diary entries, long lost lovers, starcrossed, hope, blue bird, jazz, uprisings 🌑 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🌑 a/n: noir hwa, ateez synthwave song quartet, and lore ponderings. hope you enjoyed <3 any notes, reblogs, comments, asks are always welcome! much love!

The lights dimmed, and it was as if the jazz bar never existed in the first place. The worn seats occupied by drunks who liked to pretend they had taste, sofas in the far corner reserved for big shots and well-established scum with pretty young accessories on either arm, the bar that sold everything under the rays of the dying sun and evil moon, it all disappeared with the dawn of the spotlight falling upon your alluring silhouette. A simple, yet elegant sleek black dress with a hint of shimmer that graced your curves seemed to shine in the glimmering illumination. The delicate silver accessories were stars in the hypnotising sky, the allure of an unreachable universe becoming overwhelming as your hands glided over the length of the microphone to find purchase on the stand. The music, starting from a low rumble, was an echo of the abyss surrounding you, manifested only at the softest inhale. After what could have been the drums and trumpet, or could have been the heavens announcing the beautiful singer’s presence finished their spontaneous introduction, Seonghwa had the pleasure of forgetting his purpose, at least for as long as the song lasted. He could drift into a sultry paradise, seduced by what had to be a siren’s call, and regard the customers of the Morpheus bar with something less than loathing.

As soon as he cleared the last of the russet coloured drink he had ordered in one gulp and set the glass down on the bar, shutting his eyes momentarily to focus on the warmth of the alcohol running down his throat, Seonghwa found the fingers of his right hand softly drumming out the song in accompaniment, each digit hitting one note, another, again and again. Back in the day, it had not been often that his visits to the bar occurred at the same time as the one and only Y/N’s performances, but when they did, he swore he could see the smog clear and tomorrow become a certainty. The music consumed him whole and even though he knew down to the second when the magic would be extinguished, a part of him still retained the hope that the spell would never be broken. Not when the only encore he could guarantee for himself was another torturous raid on an establishment such as this one, or another feverish witch hunt for those who had regained their ability to feel and to think freely. All in the name of a faceless leader who even Seonghwa himself had only met a handful of times despite being in a high ranking position of Guardian Inspector - above the standard white-clad machines, above the so-called officials clad in military uniform, he was in charge of ‘keeping civil hands clean’. At what cost? Perhaps his own emotions were the price.

The dark-haired man caught himself wondering how many people in this bar could enjoy themselves to the fullest. How many of these poor unfortunate souls that succumbed to the rush for easy money and easy love were true followers of hedonism, and were spending their days in an enviable bliss? Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa regarded his surroundings with a subtle scorn. He was well aware that he was to blame for it all too; The regime, to retain the ultimate, unwavering control over the citizens, even those who wholeheartedly believed they were well-hidden from the authoritarian judgement, was a supplier of one of the many pleasures after all - toying with people's weakness before the formidable seven sins only to lead them into full submission. The Strictland government, despite propagating ‘human emotion being a disease’ had anything anyone could ever desire, and Seonghwa was one of the many agents to guarantee long term partnerships, addiction to the illusion of a better life, and most importantly, stability and security for the people who had taken him in all that time ago when no one else would, and had given him a chance. 

While he was the bringer of demise, the counter of profits drenched in crushing dread and the hand of twisted and subjective justice, at the same time, Seonghwa believed that it gave him all the more right to judge the society he was a part of. After all, he was not the one being fooled. Inevitably, his glimmering orbs settled back on the singer’s gently swaying form as they broke into the chorus, and nearly shuddered as your gaze, from languid, half-lidded but oh so appealing eyes, met his, only for a split second but it was as if hellfire itself embraced him and greeted him like an old lover. Each lyric - a personal address as you moved along at a sensual pace, the song smoother than the most expensive silk. He smirked to himself as he caught his ponderings accelerating uncontrollably, attempting to squash them under a sober, calculating fist. You were no fool either. An entertainer, measuring out each attack like a venomous serpent, not threatened, seeking fun in the reveal of vulnerability of your listeners - each one believed that you existed for them and them alone, and in the hypnotic state added bill after bill to their already hefty tips in the hopes that at least some would reach you, and you would give them that beautiful smile, maybe something more. Truly, a shame that the owner of Morpheus owed the regime a lot more than all the tips, so-called donations and what, compared to the rest of the money, was "honest" earnings all combined. The Captain of the Inspectors in charge of this little project had gotten a little too nice as of late, at least that was what Seonghwa had concluded, but it was not him who was going to pay for it, naturally.

Twisting his head, Seonghwa took note of the familiar faces that appeared at the entrance to Morpheus to join the rest of the Inspectors that were posing as regular customers, cleverly dispersed among the filth that reeked of dependence. Of course, dependence on what the regime was selling. There was no other way about it. Nodding the two men a curt hello, Seonghwa let his eyes trace back a swift path to the magnificent performance. He paid attention to how your dainty earrings glinted even in the lowered light, and how, with every subtle movement, he could see the gorgeous dress tighten just a little around your body. You were so out of place in this scene, an angel in the darkest pits of hell, a little bird struggling against the wiring of a cage, curling inwards, growing smaller until the last flutter of the wings. As he was caught up in admiring your beautiful style, grace, and listening to your sweet, warm tone, one of the two newcomers, a fellow brother in governmental salvation to Seonghwa, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and occupied the seat beside him.

“As flashy as ever, Woo. Might as well tattoo ‘trouble’ on your forehead,” he motioned towards his not so inconspicuous suit that made him look more like a mafioso rather than an average joe. Seonghwa had to admit, however, that the outfit looked too damn good on him, but this was going to be just one of those things he was to take to his grave. The man did not need his ego fed any more than what the ladies he finds as company for the less busy nights not hounded by the lower ranking Guardians provide.

“I’d carve a pretty smile on that face. Not even a hello?”

“Hi San,” Seonghwa deadpanned, looking past his friend who he noted had tied his hair into a low ponytail, and right at the other half of his duo. Wooyoung and San, two peas in a pod, and probably the last people one would ever wish to see if they were in trouble with any of the Inspectors.

“Aren’t you mean today… what, pretty star over there didn’t give you attention?” Wooyoung retorted with a smirk creeping onto his lips. With a raise of an eyebrow and a shake of the head, Seonghwa dismissed any thoughts of peace that he had been imagining, settling back to regular business.

Rolling his shoulders back, he let the scene come and envelop him. It was no coincidence that so many of the Inspectors had gathered, especially with Wooyoung and San now closing in the arrivals. It did not take a genius to guess that Captain had changed his terms, and this was no longer going to be an ordinary shakeout for money or customary information gathering from the owner of Morpheus. The owner had stalled for far too long, had strayed from ‘good practices’ of a loyal rat, and it was time to set an example for others. Disease was the human emotion, and this bar was a breeding ground for thought crime, was it not?. Lowly, lonely creatures who gathered here were all examples of where society had gone astray from the perfect vision Z had put forward, at least… most were. Those who had forgotten the meaning of feeling despite having regained the ability, those, to Seonghwa, were the true vermin. He regarded the few gathered who were most definitely not meant to be part of this story. A middle aged, haggard man with flushed cheeks and what had to be his fifth glass of the cheapest liquor on the menu. Some bigshot from another town who he recalled some of the Inspectors in charge of patrolling the area identifying this morning - no ties, no money, just a lot of ambition that was to amount to nothing. A few lowlives here and there who were faceless, in shades of grey. All not meant to be here, and yet by some stroke of fate, here they were to remain. Finally, he drifted back to the main act, still at the centre of the stage, the sole luminance among the tainted - those who had no hope in making Seonghwa feel anything but numbness. You were the only one working here. Earning your meagre pay - he had discreetly checked the bar’s balance books when the old man behind the counter was too distracted to care for a person of his kind strolling into his office that was concealed in a dark corridor. It was shameful how you were still in this far less than grand establishment, sharing your angelic vocals, despite obviously not having any compensation nor appreciation of your efforts. Perhaps the moments on stage were the only time when you felt alive; the thought would not leave Seonghwa. After much investigation playing pretend, he was confident in his conclusion: you had not changed.

You were on the tattered poster plastered up outside - the one and only, shows every Friday night. Perceive and behold the spectacular ethereal being as you sang songs that spun threads out of a spectator’s very soul, blood trickling from the cracks in their shattered form turning to gold. You sang their… his pain, promised him his glory, soothed and comforted him. Seonghwa was well aware that you were the sole reason that he had shifted his visits to Morpheus to this particular day of the week and monitored the illegal location so closely, otherwise, your face would never grace his corrupt, bleak vision. You did not deserve to go with the rest. When breaking free, one was not supposed to fall into another trap, and yet, here you were. You were not meant to be here, littering the ground that you stood on as the last of the gunpowder would settle on your perfect skin, your long, alluring eyelashes. The onyx-haired man felt a shift within himself as he mused the outcome of the unspoken plans - by the way in which Wooyoung leaned back onto the counter, a grin dancing on his features and by the way San was acting particularly kindhearted to the lonely staff who was rushing about, struggling to keep up with the visitors’ habits, he knew that tonight, they were not planning on hearing any cries for mercy. They were here to complete a mission for a higher purpose. And that mission was far from the sweet music which he had loved his whole life, and finally found again.

“They’re not supposed to be here.” he mumbled, his voice obscured by yours, echoing across and elevating to a sensual culmination.

“Aren’t we all? We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. Think of them as a sculpture or something if it makes things easier,” Wooyoung took out a rolled up bill to put between his lips - a habit that he had formed after a few too many hits on the back of his head by San, an interesting approach to make a man quit smoking. He called it ‘smoking capitalism’, earning quite a few chuckles from the Inspectors, Seonghwa included. 

“So say someone’s going to scope the ring to clean it up a bit, would you let them hit our favourite auntie?” he asked, referring to the friendly cleaner who was probably the only one in the entire city who did not bat an eye at the violent matches that Wooyoung managed under the wraps for the regime, instead cooing over the fighters he brokered for and giving the men an extra helping of her home-cooked delicacies. In many ways, she was a mother figure for the Guardian Inspectors, despite her being at risk, every day, of being taken to the Red Humans should one of them be in a ‘different kind of mood’ on an arbitrary morning.

“Definitely not. But this singer. Who are they to you?”

“A pawn.”

“A pawn?”

“Mhm. I can pawn them in for rewards.”

“Suppose they are pretty enough, if that’s what you’re thinking of…”

“Goodness, take the pimp out of the bordello but can’t take the bordello out of the pimp. That business was shut a while back for you, no?” with a groan, Seonghwa retaliated at Wooyoung’s rather out of pocket suggestions. Over the many years of serving Z in not so ethical ways, the man had tried on a few too many hats and seen a few too many hats to retain even a sliver of compassion towards anyone except those closest. It was understandable. Odd, but understandable.

“Kidding. But for real though, what’s the use?” Wooyoung bit down on the bill softly, gaze following San who had moved towards a couple of underlings that had gathered in a booth off to the side, towards the far corner of the bar. Clearly, he was checking if they had read the room.

“Say, isn’t it Captain’s niece’s birthday soon? We don’t exactly have a musical act to hand since…” Seonghwa trailed off, knowing that Wooyoung knew what incident he was referring to, involving an accusatory phrase, a short temper and a very professional shot from a sniper rifle from the boss’s office window into the temple of a figure that was storming away from one of the many Inspector accommodations. Another one to fertilise the soil with.

“Smart. I’ll give it to ya. If you sort the business out before showtime, pretty thing’s all yours.” Wooyoung responded, patting his side where, underneath his shirt, Seonghwa knew was a holstered pistol. Pushing himself away from the counter he stood up, adjusting his long, leather coat and glove. It was not that he had a particular preference, but ever since entering the new life upon being pardoned for feeling, a life where he had to say found a home, he could not help but wish to always look just that little bit more put together, even if only to appear loyal. 

“Cheers. I’ll get them a nice candle-lit dinner to soften them up and then inform Cap’,” sounding purposefully sarcastic, Seonghwa mumbled under his nose, well aware that this was not a method that had ever been in use. One glower and curt phrase had always been enough - the rest was simply the heart’s doing masked by odd humour. 

“Awh, look at you, how sweet and lovely. What a darling,” Wooyoung teased, sending Seonghwa a wink. The music was fading away, the last notes landing on his ears, marking every moment.

“One more word and you’ll be the main course.” with his index finger he poked the centre of his fellow Inspector’s chest in threat, maintaining a cold expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to be roasting out here tonight, so make it hot with pretty thing.”

“Filth,” the taller man spat, knowing that attempting to counter his friend was nearly impossible - out of all the people he knew only Captain could fully round him in, and even then Wooyoung had a smile on his face, much to Seonghwa’s confusion.

“It’s not me who is with the heart eyes.”

“I just saw an opportunity,” playing with the leather piece that buttoned up to protect his neck, he eyed you, waiting for you to finish. Unknown to you, you did not have much time left before your very life would be placed on a scale and thoughtlessly pushed to lose against the weight of usual Strictland business. Such was the violent, catastrophic illusion of order, such was the structure that had been Seonghwa’s twisted saving grace. He was going to be doing you a favour by taking you away, won’t he? Either way, you would be out of work, and he was helping you with a little job search from one of the highest payers - chivalrous and kind hearted, that was who he was. How else could the Inspectors form any partnerships and feast on forbidden fruit otherwise? Who was he kidding - a soul like you was not meant for a life like this. But he had to try. He needed time to think. 

“Sure. Sure. An opportunity to grab the gorgeous star for yourself.”

“Oh shut up will you?” snapping, Seonghwa were desperately trying to cut the conversation short, seeing the window for him to make a beeline for the edge of the stage, towards which you promptly setting off after finishing your set, and receiving a dismal lack of applause - what else would he expect from the crowd gathered in Morpheus? Especially when the stench of iron and the final judgement was mere minutes away from materialising.

“You know that’s not my style.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be good. Hope you did not block my mustang,” throwing one last comment behind him, the solemn man was off, only barely catching Wooyoung’s half-hearted response.

“Have I ever…” 

The mission was simple. Since he was dismissed from the less than pleasant task of wiping out the bar, considering that two more senior Inspectors had made their appearance and were clearly more in the know of what was brewing, Seonghwa had only a couple of minutes before all freedom would cease to exist. And then, no heaven could bestow mercy upon neither him, nor the beauty he had come here to save for no logical reason, instead relying on some hazy version of hope and nostalgia. He had parked his ink black ride around the block - out of sight for unwanted eyes, and perfectly positioned for getaways just like this. If you could catch the Inspector’s drift, that was. One could only pray that the dazzler on stage was just as dazzling when it came to reading between the lines. He had perhaps even less than the estimated time to explain himself before Wooyoung and San would call the owner over to get the real evening show started. Time was ticking along with the skyrocketing pace of his heart as he stopped you on your tracks with a slightly outstretched leg, only to move forward and cast a shadow over you.

It was difficult to remain level-headed when, even at such proximity, in the normally less than flattering lighting, you were nothing short of a deity. Something out of fairy tales, stories of royalty or angels in kingdoms far far away, those that were not supposed to exist. But here was one, staring right into his eyes with your beautiful expressive orbs, as deep as the history that Seonghwa had raced here to try and reignite. A universe in your irises, an all-consuming black hole in your pupils, beckoning Seonghwa, leading him into a stupor before he stuffed his hands into his pockets, bringing himself out of the momentary trance by force. Time was not on his side, and he knew that it would never be unless he kept on running.

“Lovely song, that was.”

“Indeed. ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ is one of my favourites. Did you enjoy the performance?” Your speaking voice was different, of course, but nonetheless struck that stunning familiar chord within Seonghwa, one that should never see the light of day if he were to remain how he had to be. It was terrifying, how he was ready to let go of his resurrected image as an Inspector for a chance to turn the past into the present. 

You were polite. The features of your alluring face were hinting at a genuine interest, an appreciation of every movement, every breath you were taking. Though, in Seonghwa’s own line of work, particularly in the stage of undercover investigation, this was simply the usual. Show a smile, bat the eyelashes, make business, disappear. Genuine interest was an artform, but even if you were indeed expressing it in the way with which he was familiar, it felt so natural that he almost wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe this daydream who had come to change the colours of his occasional Fridays, his hunts for those straying from what Z had deemed ‘right’, leaving glimmers of memory to last him through the weeks when he had to be numb to life itself until he could come and see you again. It did not mean much to you, most likely. You were strangers in your respective new lives, and had Captain not made the decision to teach the owner of Morpheus a lethal lesson, you would have remained that way. Drifting together for a few hours, remaining distant, and drifting apart again. A forever flowing story that was to rekindle a starcrossed ‘once upon a time’ but never have that sought after resolution. A dream that reminded Seonghwa of why his unlikely survival was a blessing. As your eyes revealed a hopefulness, a plea for praise, Seonghwa gave you a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“I look forward to seeing you, you know.”

“O-oh?” Seonghwa could barely contain his surprise, the previously cool demeanour cracking into a raised eyebrow. Could you remember?

“Yes! You always sit at the bar, second stool from the left. And order… what is it… a brandy, right?”

He would be lying if he were to say he was not surprised by your suddenly chipper attitude. Almost like you were a kid who entered a candy shop for the first time to see all of your favourite treats, you excitedly revealed to Seonghwa your observations. While it was endearing to see, the shuffling behind him, along with the idea that he was not the only one intently observing left the Inspector with a sense of unease, nearly throwing him off from the initial goal that motivated him to brave talking to you in the first place.

“In…deed?”

The singer, who was previously an astounding yet distant figure captivating all who cared to look even once, rapidly transitioned into someone who he almost found endearing, the keeper of far too many qualities that cemented the rightness of his decision. You were not meant to be here, he repeated to himself. Mutters around the bar were getting louder, and as the rest of the musicians filed out of the main hall and crammed into a tiny room off to the side, in Seonghwa’s peripherals he noted San’s steady, seemingly innocent amble between the scuffed round tables and equally unpleasantly antique chairs.

“You are the only one who listens, so, how could I not notice? Actually, I wanted to talk to you properly, or at least say thank you but didn’t want to impose.”

As much as he wanted to sink into the warmth of your words and allow you to recognise him on your own accord, the rippling commotion that was finally rearing its ugly head spurred him on and struck his heart with an icy, calculating mace. He had a minute tops, knowing Wooyoung’s love for never counting down to zero before beginning.

“Well, let’s talk. Outside,” The black-clad man tried to walk off, aiming for the dark corridor at the end of which was the fire exit, but when you did not move, rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink-”

“Cute. Another time though,” seeing the tinge of disappointment in your gaze was new, and entirely unexpected, but gave Seonghwa plenty of leeway to sway you into following him, “since you watched me enough, I bet you can guess who I am. Or, what I do for work. Right?” 

A steely glare, leaving nothing open to interpretation. For additional evidence, he demonstratively adjusted his coat, loosening the belt he had tied around his waist to reveal a leather holster, discreet, gun always within reach. Attentive to detail as ever, you took note of the inconspicuous design of the pistol before he let it disappear once again under the fabric - in this city, there were few who had access to any form of weaponry, the items being so highly regulated by the government that it was nearly impossible to purchase or get licensing. Your mind began to list off options; Seonghwa clearly was neither a standard Android Guardian due to the lack of mandatory uniform, nor a scruffy criminal whom you had gotten used to over the time that had passed, nor part of the police force, nor a Class 2 Prestige Academy student. It only left an answer that shook you to the core. Of course, it was not that you did not hold the assumption in your heart. As a matter of fact, you had previously assumed that you were used to greeting people from different walks of life, all gathered in the same place, at the same time for what you wanted to believe was a ‘good time’. That was what drove you to live the life that you were living. Exist in this space, despite your pay and your security almost always not being enough, but you would give even that up if that meant you could keep your freedom.

Seonghwa was effortlessly graceful, determined in every step and gesture, not a single movement wasted. In a sense, it was as if he had purposefully learned and memorised the most efficient adjustments of the body, letting himself metamorphose into a lithe, agile animal. It was terrific, and terrifying, how at any moment he could pounce, and you would never know when until it was too late. For this hint of a reason, you decided to follow the man’s unspoken command, only whispering an airy inquiry after the other musicians, which he coldly dismissed:

“You need a better band anyways.”

---

The gravity of the situation only began to settle in when the biting breeze outside of the stuffy bar hit you, seeking opportunity to tousle your locks. The strands that had managed to fall over your face were trembling, the only sign revealing your suppressed distress as the last of Morpheus's dusk-like illumination was shut from your vision with a confident slam. Your eyes widened as you watched the Inspector, or in other words, your personal grim reaper, flip a lock on the door - previously thought to be inaccessible to anyone except the owner, done so masterfully as though he were the one who had installed it in the first place. An exit, a saving grace for innocents inside, turned into a dead end - more symbolic than one would ever initially assume. He trailed up the length of his arm stopping for a moment at the material that covered his shoulder, listening to leather hit leather. Seonghwa could only find calculated resolve within himself. This was the usual for him, and that after weighing all the options, he had logically come to the conclusion that the demise of the people inside was indeed the most attractive option.

As you heard the first shot resound inside of Morpheus, you shuddered, but did not dare stop following the man in the trench coat as he strode on ahead, hands remaining in his pockets. To any onlooker it would seem that he was relaxed as ever, out for a late night walk in a neighbourhood he knew better than he knew himself. Breath in, breath out; you were trying to remind yourself of the simple act, focusing harder than you had ever done during your performances. Imagining your diaphragm stretching, letting the lungs take in as much air as possible and-

Another shot. Breath knocked from you, balance off kilter, you desperately wanted to run. Anywhere. Maybe you should have stayed, not picked up on the subtle offer of your life being spared. In that way you would not have to live with the guilt of not having said anything to your fellow bandmates, not having said thank you to the owner for… what was there to thank anyone for? Out of habit, you lifted a hand to brush over your ear, echoes of the time when you had first felt emotion rippling across your body, making you shiver. You were all fools misled by hope for a brighter tomorrow in a world that was permanently overcast. Where did this running lead you? Where did your wistful song guide you? Back into the arms of the apocalypse - broad-shouldered with hair the colour of ink, the last thing you would see before disappearing for good. At least you should thank your former so-called colleagues for the information about the common demise. Tears welled up in your eyes as you obeyed the lean man’s orders and practically toppled into the black vehicle parked by the Morpheus, a lonesome yelp masked by the gunfire and indecipherable orders. 

You had no idea where he was taking you, and you did not dare ask. The man reminded you of all you had been trained to avoid in your new life, a threat, a weapon, a soldier. His gloved right hand remained resting beside the gearshift, while his left coldly gripped the steering wheel. Not a single one of his muscles appeared to be relaxed, and not a single movement had a semblance to anything natural. An automaton in the driver’s seat, you wanted to feel comforted by the idea that you were the only one truly human in the car, for the idea that someone as brutal as a Guardian Inspector could be conscious or decisive was too strong of an agony. 

At the same time, in the moments where the Inspector turned his head to check the surroundings, you noted something familiar. He dashed past the blue, purple and aquamarine signs that lined the streets of the district you had learned to love, himself turning into a painting. Be it in the angles that formulated his stern face, or in the elegance that he was unable to conceal, the past crawled out of a long-forgotten cavern in your psyche and gnawed at your nerves, just out of reach of realisation. Perhaps in another time, you had known him. Perhaps in one of the banned art pieces, you had seen him. At the same time, this could not be the first Guardian Inspector you had encountered - they were all similar enough in demeanour, so what was another face? Equally as entitled, above the law. Above a runaway like you. You were vermin. The enemy. A traitor to the Academy, to Strictland, to Z himself. Or so you were told. The only thing that could be different about this Inspector, was that he could be your last.

A sharp stabbing sensation spread from your temples and what had to be through your skull, jabbing into bone and into the cerebellum. Nauseous, you shut your eyes and clutched your head in a futile attempt to seek some form of relief. The car roared, and a sudden stench of rubber and concrete penetrated through every crevice, choking your senses and making you taste the acrid pollution. One turn, another, your organs were being jolted back and forth as the monstrous engine urged on by none other than the embodiment of oblivion dragged the car across eternal misery of long-abandoned districts.

“Oh goodness…” a feeble whisper left your lips. You reached out to grab hold of the door handle, peering at the grooves to find at least something to focus on. His vision was swimming in your eyes, etchings of your surroundings morphing into repressed memories. 

A boy marching beside you to class, head held at the angle commanded to all academy students. A young man, dressed in all white with black locks parted in the middle. A solemn stare, unreadable, though not fully blank as it should be. But at the same time, how could you, another student of Prestige, detect that something was not quite right? Since when could you feel? You lifted your head cautiously to try peeking at the Inspector again, but he was frozen. Only the abrupt tightening of his gloved hand around the steering wheel and a determined turn reminded you that he was not quite an automaton. 

“I must be dreaming…” you blinked away a teary blur, and clenched onto your dress for the remainder of the journey, feverishly recounting whatever lyrics you could. Your little safe haven, your precious prayers to the arts - truth which you had discovered after abandoning everything you could have been.

Your hand moved on instinct to the side of your head, feeling for what once had been the hub of your consciousness. A chip that made you feel right at home, heartless, but with a purpose. Forty years of education, an eternity to serve something greater than you; clear goals, a mission for your generation and many that would come after you. Hand in hand, you were soldiers of a catastrophically closed-minded society; at the time, however, you could not be ‘happier’. Or rather, more numb. Because you did not know of negative nor positive, you could not experience either, and so remained in a stable equilibrium, just as the superpower of this forlorn land had instructed. Disease was the human emotion. You were ‘healthy’. Until that boy appeared in your life, and revealed himself to you.

Bright-eyed, hopeful, excited. So unlike anyone. And against better judgement, you let the inklings of curiosity drip over your heart, and the beginnings of affection take flight. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, a smile brighter than the sun, a soothing mellifluous voice, vowing to you that you could build another life together. A life much more beautiful than one constructed with deception and hollow propaganda. What could a little tap of a breaker do to you? Apparently, it could change your destiny. 

As you massaged your temples, you locked gazes with the man in front of you, but met the boy from your past in the mirror. That same worry, knotted eyebrows, concern and care so evident you could touch it if your fingers grazed his cheek. You could not move, even when he turned back to the road, and continued to stare at the rear view mirror in the hopes of seeing your daydream again. You had to be wrong. This had to be you hallucinating. You must be just… afraid. Out of your mind. And so you were recalling one of the few times when you thought the world could do you no harm. 

“Get out,” a command. As cold as steel. The engine was still roaring in your ears, despite the surroundings having gone dead silent.

A click. The doors unlocked. You could run if you wanted to. Though you were fully aware that the action would shorten your lifespan to a mere few seconds. You remained seated, gaze falling onto your lap, and listened to the painful succession of sounds that led the man to open your door, and roughly grab your upper arm.

“I said, get out,” you followed him like a rag doll, knowing that any attempts to resist would put you into even more danger. At the same time, even though the Inspector was obviously attempting to instil terror and a twisted respect for him, he could not face you. Consciously he made an effort to barely raise his lashes, thus keeping his scrutiny concealed. Reading through his hesitation was easy enough.

He could not keep his hand on you for a second longer after you stood up straight, darting away as though you were an open flame. The man cleared his throat and locked the car, before gesturing towards an abandoned building that loomed over the gravelly opening where you had completed your journey. Comically, it reminded you of Prestige, even though the latter was of much larger proportions and possessed a more unique shape. Perhaps it was the fact that this block, what used to be an apartment building, was crumbling, made you think of the academy’s inner workings. Rotting away. The cogs in the machine tearing each other apart.

This might be your end or your beginning, you were not sure which one. With an astounding loyalty, you let yourself be guided into the long-forgotten cement fortress, up exposed stairs with metal railings, past walls left bare, illuminated by an exposed moonlight, laying down a carpet of silver. It was oddly easy to think that life was beautiful when it was likely going to be taken away from you. The walk was silent, and the longer it lasted, the more at peace you felt. The odd step rang out and echoed like the gunshots you had heard, so surreal that you could barely believe it. It must have been a joke. Fireworks, or someone just being a little boisterous. Morpheus had seen so many colours of Z’s regime, it could not disappear now… oh who were you kidding. It was done for. You little version of an escape. Your space to feel.

As you made sneaky glances at the Inspector to your right, who not so ceremoniously had loosened his coat’s belt once more to have easy access to his gun, you could not help but think of the boy. You had followed his advice, made a run for it while he had been taken away by the Red Humans. Two youngsters who betrayed the regime. But who was truly free? The one who had been exterminated, or the one who had to live in fear, but at least felt the ruthless emotion?

The enigmatic man slowed down, and so did you. He made a turn, so did you, acting as his shadow. You were certain that you were probably breathing at the same rate. An empty hallway, lined with equally empty rooms and destroyed apartments. From a humble abode to rubble, you could see the horrific vistas of the district, and the drop to the cold ground below. No wall, no security, no certainty. It was only you and your fate in the form of a man who seemed to possess too much of a likeness to the keeper of your fragile adoration.

The Inspector walked in front and turned to face you. You froze, burning under his scrutiny. Eyes like scalding cold ice, assessing you, condemning you. Your best listener, now listening to your terrified heart. For what could be the last time, you felt alive. As the man reached into his pocket, you prepared for the worst, however, he only motioned with his head for you to follow him. Confused, you obeyed, finding yourself in a more secluded corner of the floor, one which had remotely retained the appearance of an actual room. Stuck in the same few seconds, there were no further commands from the Inspector, causing your mind to wander, and lips to move on their own accord:

“I should not be here.”

“Neither should I,” he deadpanned, though his choice of words was unsettling. Wasn’t he on a mission?

“I should be dead,” you persisted.

“I should have more blood on my hands.”

A pause. You were in shock, pointlessly clinging onto your own upper arms, stuck in a false embrace. Like prey that had been cornered, you were beyond the point of trusting survival instincts. You simply wanted for the interaction, or dare you say, interrogation, to be over, so you could be given away to the Red Humans, to whatever the afterlife had to offer, in peace. If you were to be melted, then so be it. If your departure were to be short and sweet, so be it. But a little question in your head still remained, a persistent worm which you decided to unleash given your hopeless circumstances:

“Then why-”

“It is pointless to ask when there is no answer,” the man answered coldly, not sparing you a glance as he picked at a filthy off-white tulle which covered a blown out window - now just a frame, with his gloved hand, glaring at the pitiful greyness outside the abandoned building before wiping the hand off with a handkerchief produced out of the pocket into which he had stuffed his hand.

A few steps separated you, but you knew better than to try and make a run for it – the man was armed, and you assumed that the gun you spotted was not the only weapon in his arsenal. He was menacing, unpredictable, and very dangerous. Alongside that, as much as you hated to admit, but the Inspectors were nothing short of extraordinary when it came to their expertise and training. Unlike Android Guardians, they were the leading forces, capable of high-risk decision making and unparalleled critical thinking. If you were to try to describe them, you always ended up thinking of chess. That was what they were playing whenever they were out in the field.

In fact, it was for this exact reason that you were concerned about this Inspector’s behaviour – it was out of line. Inefficient. Sub-optimal. You wondered if this was a new strategy or there was a higher plan; there were so many possibilities that your head could start spinning. You dug your fingers into rapidly cooling flesh, waking yourself up from the distressed rumination. What was the Inspector going to do to you? You had followed his demands so far, and weren’t putting up a fight - what more could he want?

He was unreadable. Gestures unpredictable, expression stoic, he regarded you with an air of superiority characteristic of people from his class. Serpent-like and calculating eyes, regal nose, facial structure reminiscent of a statue, plush perfectly shaped lips – all were a nod to his upbringing, you bet. He did not feel real. Reminiscent of automatons that the regime sometimes used in place of regular Guardians during high-volume riots, he was what one would call the ‘ideal specimen’. Down to the strand of wavy hair that fell on his face, he was a beautiful painting of your worst nightmare. Life had been unkind to you, you decided. It only showed you something prettier than the night lights when it was the last thing you would see.

The man stepped towards you, and your eyelids slammed shut automatically. You did not wish to see your death. The sound of leather against leather, the tied coat belt, the creaking of ancient rotten wood planks under lacquered ankle boots. He must be getting ready to end you. Were you too high profile to be lying with the other bodies in the club? Were you more dangerous in the Inspector’s view, being a singer, or as one could say a ‘spreader’ of inappropriate entertainment. Was this treason? Terrorism? You were not sure – the sentence changed more than the weather. But were you an enemy? With confidence, you had to answer with a Yes. Having escaped the regime, and according to those who had helped you regain some parts of your past self, having had a part in the uprising within Prestige Academy, you were the worst kind of citizen of Strictland. Disobedient, unchanging, and influential. You were waiting for the cocking of a pistol, for cool metal to hit your head, and for the world to go even darker as you collapsed on to the floorboards. The man had to be taking out his gun. He must have taken you away from the raid to be particularly ruthless. A sadist? Maybe. You had no time to judge.

You felt the fabric of your shimmering dress under your fingertips, and imagined you were preparing for a show of a lifetime. You counted your inhales and exhales like you would do before a performance, and conjured an audience in your mind. More rustling, another step. He, that boy, no, young man, was in the audience. Still in the Prestige Academy uniform, but the chip was long gone. He was giving you an encouraging smile eager to hear what you had achieved in your time away from the academy. Leather caressed your hand and you flinched, comforted only by how cautious the action was. Hand turned to raise your palm to the omniscient skies, your illusions combined with reality - what was Seonghwa to give to you?

Funny, how in critical moments, the mind could give you what you had longed to forget. Seonghwa. His name tasted sweet, with a bitter aftertaste. A fine wine, dizzying, addictive. A handsome, talented student who had the future ahead of him, only to throw it away for the taste of something more ‘real’ in his eyes. Something cold was being pressed into your palm, reminiscent of a large bullet or a device your fingers could remember before your mind. Your eyes shot open and were met with a dream and a nightmare. Finally, it hit you. Behind the Inspector’s facade, a mask crafted by years of experience and brutality, was the same boy, who, just like now, pressed a breaker into your palm.

“Wake up.”

Your gaze fell to the intricate metal handiwork, spotting the carving of an ‘A’ contained in a circle right at the base. The taste of anarchy, an uprising, revolution, a hope for something better flowing through a tragic story you two had written. At last, it had a resolution, and you were more than content with who was holding the lethal pen. You stared at the breaker. The very thing that brought you out of an eternal somnolence, submission to a regime. You had woken up then, and never could sleep.

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer… the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…” you lifted your head once more, staring into Seonghwa’s softened eyes. He had matured, his features having become siren-like, dangerous, seductive. Befitting his character. You smiled sadly, “...or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing end them?” He remained quiet, as if he was the one waiting for you to decide your own destiny, “Shakespeare. Hamlet. Ever read it? Or do they not let you?”

“I-” he cleared his throat, concealing a pang of nervousness, “I am familiar with his work.”

“Mm, isn’t that a criminal offence?”

“What is?”

“Reading work exploring human emotion… sounds like treason to me.”

“Reading does not imply sympathising.”

“But you do.”

Again, a heavy pause. Seonghwa rocked from one foot to another one time, another - an old habit? Or an attempt to convince you that he was at least a fraction the same?

“I… I do not,” before you could scowl, he continued, “‘Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once’. I am more partial to this way of thinking.”

“Ah, the irony of it all.”

Your hand formed a fist around the device, and you kept on searching for fragments of the man you loved inside of the new Seonghwa before you. In flashes, you spotted glimmers of gold, feeble hints for something that could be concealed in the depths of his soul. 

“So, are you going to make me a valiant person?”

“What?” 

“Wasn’t that what you were supposed to be doing?” feeling a little more brave, you taunted him, wishing to see what his limit was. Whether he was lying to you just to set you at ease and make his job easier. So he could see one final sense of betrayal in your pupils.

“We are already dead, Y/N.”

---

Music. A universal language. The biggest risk for a community that someone wanted to silence. So you hummed one song after another, head leaning against Seonghwa’s shoulder as you sat on the concrete floor, in the corner of the room that was barely holding itself together. Bathed in silver light, you shared with him the luxury of reminiscing, mourned what had been lost only to have the feeling be replaced by a budding desire to wish upon anything at all.

Seonghwa might have lied to many of the Inspectors, and was in danger of facing a fate worse than extermination, but at least he did not lie to you. And because he did not lie to you, you were here; you were real. He could have the pleasure of having you beside him, wrapped up in his leather coat; your dress was not exactly ‘inhospitable conditions’ material, as pretty and befitting as it was. You were refusing to let go of the breaker as though it was the tether to a more sunny past, not that Seonghwa would ever dare pry it out of your hands. So long as you could keep singing for him forever. Even when music were to cease existing, and when the sky would fall down, he would still hear your voice. How many times had he visited Morpheus in secret, outside of his official inspections and scouting missions? How quickly had he transferred into a field role just for the chance to find you? How had he managed to remain alive even though his sentence had been supposedly set in stone, and he was still feeling? With each question, the answer grew blurrier and blurrier, until it no longer existed. Perhaps this was a manifestation of destiny. You were supposed to meet again after so much turmoil, so you did. Curious.

“What song do you like?” your voice, sleepy, serene, cut through his ruminations. Seonghwa looked down and to his side, meeting a gentle gaze. 

“What song do you want to sing?”

“Mm, no that’s not an answer,” you snaked your hands around his arm and pulled him closer. 

“But I like everything you sing. Because you sing it.”

“Sweet, but I’m at a loss.”

“Then let’s be quiet. Together. For as long as we can.”

“There’s not too long left, is there?”

Your question was rhetorical. Both you and Seonghwa were aware of it. Time in Strictland was not governed by the individual but by an unforgiving system. A person, or perhaps a symbol, holding the clock with an iron grip and making the hands fly faster and faster until a second was an impossible measure. Involuntarily, he sighed, causing wisps of steam to escape his lips and rise to the exposed armature of the floor above. With cooling temperatures came the cooling heart, and it was difficult to tell what it was that you loved. What was it that made you feel alive?

“You know, they gave me a choice,” Seonghwa began. There was no reason why he should be telling you about what had happened to him, but the sombre atmosphere seemed to bode well for a confession. You did not interrupt, choosing to remain passive, resigned, “either die for what I believe in, or admit I was wrong.”

“Funny how they gave you a choice,” the infamous ‘they’. The Guardians, the regime, the enemy. Now turned into a friend. Interesting how life changed.

“Definitely was not what I expected.”

“You sure they didn’t say ‘sike’ at any point and you just got lucky?”

“I don’t think they can miss,” a simple, but sharp fact. You bit your lower lip, “...anyways. You can probably guess what I chose to do. The only caveat is that I admitted I was wrong… for a different thing.”

“Do tell.”

“I was wrong for putting you in danger, Y/N.”

“Nothing we could do about that. We were two fools in love.”

Seonghwa detangled himself from you, only to grasp your free hand in his, place the other on your thigh and meet you face to face. Misty-eyed, his rationality was growing frantic, and you knew that at any moment he could snap, and only the clearing night knew what would happen then.

“But I was the one to jolt you out of a peaceful existence. I was selfish-” After years of doubting himself, sinking into a destructive illusion where he would march alongside others like a machine, he was breathing. Much to his regret, it was a sensation far too sweet and heavenly, worth every revolution and rebellion.

“I don’t regret it.”

“...What?”

“I would put this thing to my head time and time again if I had to,” you raised the breaker to eye level, attempting to get at least a smile or a chuckle out of Seonghwa. Much to your dismay, it did the opposite. You would be lying if you were to proclaim you were euphoric. 

“I- I’m… Y/N I’m so sorry…” you shook your head and pulled him in, until his exhales and inhales were tickling your neck. Hunched over you like a black-clad shield, Seonghwa was unmoving. Eyes darting down, you spotted that he had taken the pistol out of the holster, and upon a second glance to where he had been sitting, you noted its lonely presence, tucked away with debris and gravel.

“You are alive. And clearly still care enough to remember me. That’s your apology. And your punishment,” in a soothing gesture, you ran your fingers through his hair, cautiously at first, then turning your ministrations continuous, measured out when Seonghwa sat back down on the concrete, only this time nuzzled into you. 

“Sorry…” he forced out, choking up.

The moon counted down the time while lazily passing over the building. You were at a crossroads. In haste, Seonghwa had told you of the opportunity to serve the Guardian Inspectors, being a private entertainer of sorts, but he knew you would refuse. Fast. Becoming one’s own enemy was the one thing you would not follow Seonghwa into doing. And that is why he admired you. You were strong. You were truly alive. A bird soaring in the skies in spite of the risks of being hunted, being shot. Simply for the feeling of the wind under your wings, to be closer to the stars and to sing your song loud and clear, every note a celestial blessing. 

“Blue bird…”

“Hm?”

“I think I have an idea… if you are willing to go into hiding, that is.”

“Planning uprisings are we?”

“Oh they’ve been long in the works, my love. It is part of my job to close my eyes when necessary, and when convenient.”

“Are you about to be wrong again?”

“Maybe. Or very, very right. Depends on how the song sounds to you.”

---

Walking down the corridors of the headquarters, hands behind his back and appearance pristine, Seonghwa was nothing short of a model Inspector. Low ranking employees cowered before him and bowed, while his immediate colleague Wooyoung smirked, attempting to hook any information out. 

“So… where'd the pretty star go?”

Silently, Seonghwa handed him a slip recording the disposal of an ‘unnamed entity’.

“ Oh… well that’s harsh. What did they do, reject you?”

“Apparently once gone so far astray, one cannot be changed. I had to do what was best for the regime.”

“Such an example for others. Wow. Almost too good to be true, Park. Well, I’ll be reporting that the extermination and cleanup of Morpheus was successful.”

“You do that.”

While Wooyoung turned the corner, Seonghwa continued to walk straight down the metal corridor, eyes locked onto the very end. Morpheus was no longer, indeed. But your song was still ringing in his ears, and no doubt, there would be a time when it would resound over the many speakers planted all across Strictland.

Blue skies smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song

Nothing but bluebirds all day long

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly

Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on

🌑 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? please consider reblogging <3 thank you

#cromernet #k-labels #kflixnet #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #kpop writing #kpop writers #seonghwa scenarios #ateez au #seonghwa au #ateez #park seonghwa #ateez imagine #ateez headcanons

[dropletpetals]

A God's Pet

(feat. Childe)

❥Synopsis: When You descended to Teyvat, it was Childe who found You first.

❥⁠Content Warnings: sagau, cult au, religious themes, yandere behavior

❥⁠Author's Note: This is my official apology to Childe for not pulling on his banner.

Childe has been a devout believer since childhood.

It was his mother's teachings that taught him Your stories, and it is his father that taught him prayers and rituals. It had always made him feel closer to You whenever he does those things, and falling into the Abyss was no exception.

There, he learned a new prayer. Prayer to give him strength and kill his enemies, offering them to You in return. When he came back, he began killing in Your name. Some may call it blasphemous but he knew that You accepted it.

After all, if it was blasphemy, then why was he rewarded? Why was he blessed by Your warmth and use him to kill Your enemies? Why was he made stronger and stronger if he had occurred Your anger?

So when he found You in Teyvat—with the stars as Your eyes and Your gaze as warm as when You use him—he had clung himself to You without shame.

He was the first one who welcomed You home—to his immense delight that he could one-up Rex Lapis who was said to be Your most devout worshipper—and had shown You the world.

He had followed wherever You went, acting as Your bodyguard and servant—not that You needed to be protected since monsters seem to steer clear of You or approach in a non-hostile manner.

And when he had suggested for You to go to Snezhnaya and You agreed, he was overjoyed that he could introduce You to the Tsarita and his family. Seeing You interact with his siblings was heartwarming, as is seeing the Tsarita personally welcome You to Snezhnaya with reverence in her normally cold eyes.

Truly, it was bliss that he could be by Your side. Even when word finally got out that You had descended and festivals all over the seven nations had occurred to celebrate it, it did not break his jubilant mood, especially when You had asked if he could accompany You.

He feels rather smug that it is him that You so clearly trust and couldn't help but smirk when he saw sight of the other Harbingers or Zhongli, knowing that try as they might, they would never be as close to You as he is—much to their jealousy—but it all fades away when he catches Your gaze and Your hand would touch his skin.

Because he knows that while he fancies himself as Your protector, Your companion—and in the deepest part of his mind, perhaps Your lover—he is nothing more than a pet.

A pet that follows his Master wherever they go, a pet that sits obediently at his Master's feet and awaits their orders, a pet that his Master amuses themselves in, and a pet that bares its teeth when prompted, protective and possessive of their Master all at once.

He may be Childe the Eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia of the Fatui, but to You, he has always been Ajax. And Ajax has always been Your worshipper first than anything else.

❥⁠End Note: I'M SORRY I DIDN'T PULL ON YOUR BANNER CHILDE NEXT TIME ON YOUR NEXT RERUN I PROMISE 😭

❥⁠Q: Who's a character that you've been wanting to have a rerun that haven't had yet recently?

#ash.♥ #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau cult au #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact yandere #sagau x reader #sagau childe #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #sagau childe x reader

[genshinresource]

Genshin Impact Enemies & Monsters: Pyro Abyss Mage

#genshin impact #enemy artworks #PNGs #screenshots #Common Enemies #Abyss Order Enemies #Abyss Mages

[hiraya-rawr]

so i betrayed you, my love– (2/5)

Xiao Version || Childe Version || Thoma Version || Gorou Version || Ayato Version

synopsis !! Part 2 of “You Were The Enemy All Along” featuring the aftermath of betrayal and confrontation, with more depth to their stories! (Part 1 of each character was also included to make reading convenient.)

contains !! some character lore spoilers / a little violence / dialogue heavy in some scenes / reconciliation but also complicated relationships mending together / cameos of other characters! / might be easier to understand if you knew the lore of the characters 

notes !! This was commissioned by the wonderful @mh8 who allowed this to be posted in public for everyone to enjoy! and honestly childe scares me to write bc I've barely written anything for him but I tried to bring out his charm? idk 😭

CHILDE

wc !! 2.4k

The noisiest of them all. He doesn't understand at first, tries to deny it by making jokes. The prank is up, what are you still doing? It's only when your betrayal becomes painfully obvious does he allow himself to laugh. It's ironic to be surprised coming from his line of work. He should really be used to these things.

"If you're this desperate for a fight, you could have just said so," He laughs, "Though, I warn you comrade, I won't hold back this time." It's so easy to drown in the adrenaline of battle and if he doesn't think hard enough, it feels no different than any of your usual spars together. There's a battle crazed look in his eyes at the thought of not holding back with you, but it's odd how numb he feels as Foul Legacy takes over. 

Whether or not he wins the fight, the result remains the same; with him lying in the middle of the battlefield, mask still on, staring blankly upwards. He thinks of the abyss he fell into as a child, and briefly wonders when did it all go wrong.

— Before Him

You sighed in relief, a long day of training was finally coming to an end. Dottore was not an easy harbinger to be a rookie under; aside from the harsh training requirements of a Fatui Agent, you also had to deal with a lunatic scientist for a mentor. You were lucky enough to have the doctor more distracted on conducting his experiments rather than training fresh meat like you. 

You leaned against a wall. You were in an isolated, snowy village, a mile away from the nearest Fatui training ground. It existed quietly, the villagers were as cold as Snezhnaya in that barren wasteland. You knocked twice on the concrete behind you, then an additional four times, then once more.

“Agent (Name), report.” A voice muffles from behind the wall, a figure you can't see.

“Pulcinella adopted a strange boy. . . He's coded as Childe. They say he fell into the abyss. He's quite strong, we've only sparred once but I know there's something off with him.” 

“Hmm. A peculiar new recruit. I've heard from the other agents.” Muttered the figure of the shadows. He doesn't talk much. You know it's to keep identities hidden and to avoid letting you know too much lest you get caught and the information forced out of you (and believe me, the information will be forced out of you).

“You think he could rise in the ranks? Perhaps become a general or diplomat?” You question quietly.

“I think he could be the next Harbinger.”

A sharp intake of breath, surprised. A Harbinger. The next and possibly youngest one after so long.

“Continue your work. Do what you believe is best for our organization. Leave any files you found useful under the gap.” Were his last orders before hearing the footsteps walk away. Work was never easy; you dealt with loneliness most of the time. The only comfort was when an ill-reputed plan of the Fatui failed, knowing it was only possible through your contributions and warnings. For every plan you thwarted was a step closer to revealing your identity and getting killed for it.

Yes, you're prepared. You've been preparing for it ever since you joined the Fatui.

With a sigh, you went back to the training grounds. 

— With Him

There’s a reason why Diluc Ragnvindr survived the hunt by the Harbingers when he sought out revenge in Snezhnaya. That should have been the first red flag for Childe. You were transferred early under his platoon, just when he was solidifying his position as a Harbinger. You were the subordinate he sent out to represent the 11th and, having the approval of Dottore (The old geezer, what a wack. Should he really be trusting a mad scientist? Childe questions this everyday) he trusted you enough to do your job.

Yet, the winery-heir-slash-fatui-serial-murderer escaped Snezhnaya with the help of those damned underground pests they've been trying to get rid of. Honestly, Childe could care less about the guy— if anything, he was immensely excited to try and pick a fight with him! But it still hurt his pride that one of his early missions as a Harbinger didn't turn out well. He needed to prove himself to the Tsaritsa after all! If not to at least make Pulcinella proud.

Going back to you.

It was always him and you; you and him ever since you transferred; sparring blade against blade. It was easy to get along when you were one of the only trainees close to his age, even easier when you managed to keep up with him in everything, bloodlust and all. 

You were his match and he was yours, or so he believed.

“Say, why did Dottore transfer you anyway? Did you get kicked out, pissed him off somehow?” Childe once asked, boots scraping the ground as he dodges an attack from you flawlessly. Despite Dottore’s rather crazed way of managing his platoon, agents were given a handful of benefits for being under a high ranking Harbinger with a budget larger than the others (Experiments don't pay themselves, you know!).

You huff, a little tired from the onslaught of keeping him entertained in battle, “No, didn't he tell you? I requested for transfer.”

“Oh really? What, did the good looks of a new Harbinger catch your eye?” He teases, going on the offensive once more as he sprints to slash his blade. You block it with yours, trying to push him back with force. When he does pull back, getting pushed a few meters away as hir boots skid on snow, you scoff.

“Good looks? If that were the case, I would have transferred to–”

He immediately sprints ahead again, blade nearly catching you off guard as you block the attack.

“Aww come-” Slash. Block. “-on! Don't tell me you're not-” Kick. Jump. “-even a little bit enraptured by-” Hit. Block. “-me?” He huffs heavily, finally catching your eye as your blade stays on his, pushing each other back with all your strength.

“Hmp. Must you be so arrogant?” You strain out, matching his force before– “Maybe. . . maybe just a little bit.” You avert your gaze at the very moment he catches sunlight in your eyes. Childe pauses, his grip on the blade loosens momentarily at your admittance. You take the chance— kicking his stomach back with force as he skids across the training ground, the sword clattering on the ground.

“Does this mean I won?” You giggle, your weapon still in your hand as he looks at you from where he crouches, a smile on your face.

Maybe it's the butterflies that erupted in his stomach, but he laughs out loud. Childe wonders to himself; Is this the thrill of battle? Or something else? You tilt your head in confusion.

“As if! I haven't even gone all out yet!” He yells enthusiastically, “Agent (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)”

Your smile tenses. Your heart beats. Pensively, you also wonder to yourself; Is this the success of a mission? Or . . . something else?

— After Him .

You should've known.

You should've known, you should've known, you should've known that the Fatui would never have let a betrayal such as yours go so easily. The past few months after him was spent laying low, hiding from daylight and any chance that you could be recognized. A large bounty was on your head and the Fatui weren't cheap by any means. The organization shielded you as much as they could but even you had missions you had to continue fulfilling. You’d gladly risk your life for the better good; after all, if you didn't, you wouldn't have went undercover in the Fatui anyway. 

But now, he was chasing you.

It's back to the snowy forests of Snezhnaya, sprinting and dodging all the tall pines in your way. You hear him gaining speed from behind you, hydro blades swishing as they cut through branches, unbothered to waste energy on dodging. Distantly, the sound of a Fatui gunner prepares his shot. You immediately switch directions, a pyro blast landing inches from where you once were. It’s followed by more blasts, each hitting a little closer to you until—

“Ah!”

It grazes your shoulder, blood escaping the wound and soaking your clothes. You don't stop running, adrenaline keeping you alive and conscious. Childe barks something out in Snezhnayan. You’re too distracted with running to understand what he said, but the Pyro Gunner stops shooting and soon enough you focus on escaping.

A clearing appears in your line of sight. A field of snow and endless white and—

Crash! You're knocked off your feet, landing on the snow. You feel him on your back as you quickly force him away, rolling to the side and kicking. It's a blur from there on— a flurry of kicks, punches, scratches, the snow around you forming the most unrecognizable snow angel.

Until his hydro blade was on your neck as he keeps you pinned underneath him. No amount of sparring could've prepared you for a battle to the death with a harbinger. Your breaths fog together with every exhale, the proximity feels bad for your heart but finally, you get a clear view of the face you haven't seen for months.

“I win,” He says, an ever-so-childish grin on his lips, “Any last words?”

It astounds you how casual he is, as if you weren't running for your life just moments ago. Sparring had always been his favorite game but this wasn't like the other times. You do as you were trained (by both the Fatui and your organization)— you keep your mouth shut. Last words are worthless in the face of the enemy, you’d rather bite your tongue off.

“Hmm. . . the (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ) I know would have barked back some words. You would've scoffed.” Childe says, the blade pressing deeper onto your neck, drawing beads of blood to the surface. “Or was that some personality you made up? Was it fun for you?” 

Silence.

The smile falls off his face. Something darkens in his eyes. “Alright. You won't talk, that's okay. Anyone who would dedicate their lives living undercover naturally wouldn't respond. I can respect that.” He starts, the blade doesn't move an inch on your skin, the snow numbing more of your back, “But at least answer me this. Not for your organization, not for you. . . answer it for me; was I ever anything to you?”

Silence. Keep quiet.

Something unrecognizable crosses his face. There’s a smile on his lips, but his eyes are pained.

“You know,”  He whispers, leaning down closer to you. “Whenever we sparred, did you feel anything? Anything at all?” His face contorts to a mix of frustration, “Because I sure as hell knew I loved you. I can differentiate things, (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)! I knew what was bloodlust, it wasn't just me being battle hungry. I’m not dumb! I knew— know I love you!”

As if wanting to hide from your gaze, he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Forehead to the snow, blade stilling on your skin. Despite how cold everything is, the warmth of him seems enough to coax you in.

“. . . At least tell me how much of it was real. Please.” He mumbles slowly. Did you mean to cause this much anguish? Did you have to go fall for someone like him? 

The words fall from your tongue before you could even catch them. The lack of hesitation, the urge to come clean; “Everything. . . everything was fake. Even my name. (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.). It's fake.”

He freezes over you, listening intently. Snow falls quietly into the ground, you wonder if you'll be buried in— caved to become timeless underneath the ice. Briefly, you think it would be fine if it happens if it's with Childe.

“I know it's hard to trust me, but please— loving you,” Pause. You feel tears well up in your eyes, blinding your vision of the descending snowflakes. “Loving you was real. Is real. It was the realest thing I had in that life under the Fatui. I’m so sorry, Childe, I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry we have to end like this.”

“You mean it?” He asks, hushed.

“Yes, yes, archons I mean it.”

“Then what's your real name?”

Your breath hitches, “(Name).”

“(Name).” He repeats.

The awareness of the metal on your throat becomes all too obvious. Breathing too hard would cause it to press more against your skin. You try to calm down, trying to accept the falling of the snow (the fall of you) as the end of your life nears and suddenly—

the blade is retrieved. You hear the shuffle of leather as it's placed back into its holder. Blinking, bewildered, you glanced up at him only to see his boyish grin.

“You honestly didn't think I'd kill you, right?”

Your mouth falls open. You want to hit him.

“You're going to let me go?”

“I mean, I did kind of let the traveler go back in Liyue.”

“The senior Harbingers reprimanded you for that!” You sit uo, hands flailing as you grab a handful of snow to throw at him. He lets it hit his stomach, laughing.

“It's fine, it's fine! The higher ups don't really care about me as much as they do the others anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly, “It gives me a whole lot of leeway. If I say I don't want to kill you, they'll just nod along.”

You stare at him longer than you mean to, holding his cheery gaze as the snow continues to settle around you. How quiet and peaceful to exist with him in that space. 

“Is this really okay?” You ask and he falls silent with you.

He looks away to the white horizon, speaking in a softer voice, “Well, of course not. You still betrayed me, I still got hurt,” He inhales, “But you love me. I think that's all that really matters, no?”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can't bear to think how close you were to losing your life (losing him) and how easily he pushes your lifelong conflicts aside. So who cares if you played for the opposing organization? Who cares if you struggled with love and truth?

You've faked yourself for so long but Childe would still embrace you, lies and all.

“Come on, the snow must be cold.” He extends his hand, gesturing for you to take it, “Sooner or later the other scouts would be arriving. You should keep running east.”

“Ajax–” You start but he hushes you gently.

“We won't be seeing each other for a while. I don't know when we’d meet again but. . . you know, I’m sure it'll work out if it's us. So don't cry anymore, (Name).”

Stiffly, you nod. It was this moment that you tried to memorize everything about him— his eyes, his ginger hair, the way your name -your real name- falls off his tongue. You replay every sound he made to say such a name, just for the sake of remembering.

“Now go—” He pushes you to the direction, “Don't worry! I won't let them catch the love of my life!” He grins widely, hydro blades appearing in his hands once more as you nod towards him, tear stained smile in response. Your feet take you away, further and further away as you hear the familiar sounds of his blades against his own agents. Icy wind whipping against your face. You can't help the laugh that escapes you, surely the agents would think their blood-crazed superior is in another one of his impulsive moods. 

You pity them and envy them all the same.

~

notes !! thoma is up next, featuring some of our fav inazuma characters <3 ill edit it into a post once my finals settle down (currently cramming in a cafe) I hope you guys liked this one

childe // i really tried to fulfill that he's the more talkative of the bunch! and honestly with childe’s history of forgive and forget, i dont think it's a surprise that he’d easily forgive MC and brush everything under the rug. if anything, he kind of likes the complexity as far as i could tell! by the way, did you like the inclusion of “before him, with him, and after him”? i think it was a poem or a dedication in some book. I really like the thought of it since it's a good way to divide timelines. BY THE WAY do you like the parallels? In part 1, he was left on the snow looking up at the sky. Now in part 2, ur the one on the snow looking up at him :D

#genshin #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #genshin tartaglia #diluc #tartaglia #genshin impact #harbinger x reader #genshin harbinger #fatui harbinger #genshin x reader #genshin angst #childe angst #genshin angst/comfort

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Headcanons: Reiatsu Descriptions

We all know that people in Soul Society can figure out who’s who based on their reiatsu but what does each person’s reiatsu feel like?

Jushiro Ukitake:

When calm: It’s like the ocean breeze at night, with the waves washing over you, the scent of the salty air hanging over you like a mist. It’s cool, relaxing, and calming. 

When at battle: Imagine the worst storm you’ve ever seen on the open ocean. Not a single patch of land anywhere. The water is churning mercilessly, the waves 100 feet in height, threatening to swallow up the earth into its depths. You’re trying not to drown, forever lost to the abyss. Dark, desperate, and lost. 

Shuhei Hisagi:

When calm: Rock concert on a summer night. There’s good, happy energy there, the kind that makes people want to gather together and celebrate. Vibrant, positive, cheerful.

When at battle: Abandoned amusement park at night. All the people are gone, and no one has been by in a long time. All the good times have come to an end. Creepy, desolate, with an eerie feeling that something bad is about to happen. 

Kuchiki Byakuya:

When calm: Tea ceremony vibes. A bit of tradition,a bit of indulgence, the tea bringing your senses alive, while the pastries bring about a touch of sweet and savory. Nothing is overdone, it’s all balanced, in harmony. 

When at Battle: World War II trenches. I mean, we’ve seen how pissed this man can get when he was fighting Ichigo. Despair, the smell of blood fills the air. It’s hard to tell if anything is alive. Cold, damp, and dead.  

Kensei Muguruma:

When calm: Summer road trip when the company is good. Non stop conversations, rest stops, seeing unique things, singing in the car, and bonding. Happy, warm, and sentimental. 

When at battle: Army tanks invading an enemy territory. It’s loud, and commanding, crushing anything in its path. Powerful, world crumbling, and terrifying. 

Renji Abarai:

When calm: Beach day. Sunshine, warmth, the strong kind of energy that comes from swimming and laying out on the sand. 

When at battle: Hospital ER after a mass attack. Panic, worry, and a struggle to find order through the chaos. It’s confusing, painful, a fight till his last breath. 

Ichigo Kurosaki:

When calm: This boy feels like home. He’s the place you go to when you’re tired or had a bad day. It’s where all your comfort stuff is and where you can just exist, without having to deal with anyone’s expectations. Welcoming, non judgmental, and friendly.

When at battle: Atomic bomb blast. There’s nothing left. Just blankness. Smoke, ash, and debris.  

Shinji Hirako:

When calm: Carnival! Bright lights everywhere, cotton candy, enjoying yourself on the Ferris wheel. It’s enticing, warm, and full of excitement.

When at battle: Earthquake. Everything rumbles and collapses, threatening to swallow anything it can find. Loud, devastating, and damaging. 

Rose Otoribashi: 

When calm: A ballet theater on opening night. There’s high expectations to see a visual treat, the energy from the dancers and music thrilling you every second. Entertaining, beautiful, and a must have experience.

When at battle: The faint noise of a music box dying. The notes choke out in an unsteady manner, trying it’s best to continue before the mechanism gives out. When it stops…run. Because the music box stopping isn’t the end. It’s the beginning. 

#jushiro ukitake #bleach shuhei #bleach byakuya #bleach kensei #bleach renji #bleach ichigo #bleach shinji #bleach rojuro #bleach #bleach headcanons #headcanon #fan thoughts #fan ideas #my writing #shuhei hisagi #byakuya kuchiki #kensei muguruma #renji abarai #ichigo kurosaki #shinji hirako #rojuro otoribashi #bleach ukitake

[reginrokkr]

♡

He’s so used to be on his own for having chosen to lead a solitary life that he’s missing a whole lot on physical contact, on reminiscing what it feels like. At this point of time, Dain thinks himself to be above human needs (mostly because he can’t consider himself to be one any longer). So physical touch, most specifically if it’s the soft kind, will melt him instantly. Not only it’s been long enough that he accepted that he doesn’t deserve any of it due to the “sins” he has committed in his mind, but as a warrior and someone who is mostly aloof, this is something that he didn’t have as much even during Khaenri’ah days. Another reason for him to yearn this is because he has this chronic pain that comes with the curse which affects him both in a physical and mental way. So realizing that someone’s soft touch won’t hurt him... yes, that will make him long for it.

How to win Dain’s heart → Accepting! || @zercfoxgiven ✦

#zercfoxgiven #◟༺✦༻◞ What use has the veil of falsehood? ┊Ask.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ What lays behind the mantle of faux stars ┊OOC.┊ #he's so used to fight everything and anything #specially for chasing the Abyss Order #and considering the fucked up traps #they leave behind #if the domain of 1.4 is anything to go by #+ enemies like abyss woofies and everything #...yeah there's definitely a lot of difference #from feeling pain #to soft touches #thank you for sending this in!

[hypostatic-oath]

I'm so happy you like my ask (this is long overdue).

I bet that the people of Fontaine are very happy because i have been doing nothing but hanging out with the Melusine instead of doing the archon quest(though that will eventually come to an end soon). I also bet that new laws/regulations are being proposed because the amount of wacky stuffs the Traveler and their companions is up to all the time. Imagine you just joined the Traveler's team and your first experience is watching a forest watcher beat up some of Fontaine's local legends lmao (and after your recent post, Childe is seething if he learned of this).

Can i be 🚬 anon?(unless you don't do that here)

Named anons? On my blog? Omg I feel honored - of course you can be 🚬 anon! Welcome :D

New laws being proposed because of the traveler is amazing. It has the same vibe as that gliding law in Mondstadt about taking off using anemo slimes (yes, it works, no, it is not very useful as far as I know. I don't even remember if you get an achievement), because you KNOW there's a story behind it, someone must have tried it and it must've gone very, very wrong, and the wacky circumstances that lead to the creation of new laws would be hilarious to witness.

However, on a more serious note, Wriothesley and Neuvillette would be grappling with the issue of teleportation - how do you arrest someone who can simply just... leave? It doesn't matter how secure a prison is if a bored entity can just take control of one of the prisoners and whisk them away on a whim? Worse yet, since Wriothesley is officially a Vessel, what would happen if an Overseer decided to take control of him and sign official pardons? New rules in the Fortress of Meropide have been implemented - any orders given by the Duke while he is on the team are automatically overruled unless it can be proven that he is acting of his own accord.

I can only imagine how confusing it feels for the newcomers to suddenly join the team and find themselves in the kind of situations the Traveler faces daily... and for the onlookers, of course. "Oh, I wonder who that newcomer is... such a distingushed gentleman, perhaps he's here on business?" "Guys, not to scare you or anything, but that 'distinguished gentleman' dropped a meteor on a crab." "Oh, yes, that huge crab in the-" "No. A regular crab. On the smaller side, even. He just threw a huge meteor at it - didn't even bat an eye. The crab practically disintegrated." "What the hell."

And for those that don't know their teammates - any of the knights of Favonius being placed on a team with Klee know exactly what she's capable of, but someone less familiar with her is about to be shocked. "What in Celestia's name is the Overseer thinking? This is a child, she'll get hu- oh. Oh no."

On the other hand, imagine being a nun-turned-idol, looking to the side to check who your teammates are, and there's the Raiden Shogun standing there as if it's no big deal. A little bird lands on her fingers. She watches it with a wistful expression as it flies away. You look to the other side and see the Dendro Archon chatting with that kind but often drunk bard as if they're old friends. You find yourself in what looks like a domain but soon realise, with no small amount of dread, that you're in the Abyss. At least you have two Archons beside you... Barbatos help you, the challenge has started and there are more monsters than you thought. You're doing your best to keep all your teammates alive - you wouldn't forgive yourself if you were the indirect cause for the fall of a god. So you sing your song and put the hydro circle around your team, but there's just too many enemies, coming from all sides... And then you hear a faint "ehe", and the specters are pulled into a vortex of wind. The Shogun doesn't even need to pull out her signature move, just the swirl reaction the bard has caused is enough. You see him shoot down one of the things with a single Anemo-infused arrow. It dies immediately. He's dealing damage on par with the two Archons on the team. Just what is this bard capable of? Suddenly those rumors about him being Barbatos are starting to seem a little less nonsensical. Surely, it couldn't be true, right? You have half a mind to ask him about it once the four of you exit the Abyss, but as soon as you find yourself outside and able to regain your breath he just gives you a "whoops, gotta go!" and floats away on a wind current you're pretty sure he just created.

Now that I think of it, it'd be fun to imagine how different team dynamics would work - I'll make a separate post for this, but if you've read this far and want to send in asks with your team comps... 👀

#cube.answers #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau overseer #🚬 anon