#Pre-Act I

[doctormacchiato]

Drawn to the Surface - Part 1

Inspired by @six-feet-sleep​‘s art of tattooed Silco that you can see here. Don’t try to tell me that man isn’t completely tatted up under those fancy shirts and vests. 

So many thanks to @of-the-argonath​ for supporting this. Means more than you can imagine. 

AO3

Young(ish!) Silco x Tattoo Artist!Reader SFW Next Part

__

You’ve finally finished wiping down your station and have just picked up your sketchbook, lead in hand, when you hear the bell ring out above the door to your little studio.

“We’re closed!” You call out absentmindedly as you shade in the scales of a new snake design you’ve been working on for a client. It’s several moments later when you realize that you haven’t heard the bell again. Your intruder isn’t leaving.

With an annoyed huff, you get up, sketchbook still in hand, still shading, and round the corner to emerge into the front lobby, inwardly cursing yourself for forgetting to lock the front door. That would have to be fixed.

“I said we’re closed! And I don’t take walk-ins.”

“Even for an old friend?”

Your heart skips a beat at the sly tenor of the voice, which had just enough grit that it couldn’t be described as smooth. Your shading pauses, caught in your surprise.

You’d heard so many different stories: ones that incriminate, ones that condemn. You’d told yourself they were wrong. The man you knew would have never—

But he had missed his last appointment, and every one after that. Then came the rumors, ones you wished were true and others you knew couldn’t be, and you had had no idea what to believe. He wasn’t supposed to have disappeared. That hadn’t been the plan.

Now? It’s been years. The shock and dismay have since faded into memories. What you were left with is anger, sadness, and more hurt than you were willing to admit.

Finally, you look up. Your sketchbook and lead fall from your grasp. You ignore them.

His head is cast downward when you see him, leaning against the front desk. He is exactly how you remember. Tall and lean, with a secret strength you know he possesses despite his unassuming frame.

Wiry, you had once called him.

But he’s changed too. The sides of his previous, unassuming shaggy cut have been razored short. The rest on top has been pulled back neatly with a tie, with just a few errant strands that have escaped over his forehead. You force down a memory of carding your hands through those same strands once upon a time.

Yet, you know this is not the same man that ha spent hours in your chair in the back, as you discussed everything and nothing to make the time pass. You remember each design, traced and shaded, etched permanently into his pale skin. You wonder if they’ve faded.

“Silco?” You finally say, almost like it was an accusation.

He looks up and your heart catches in your throat. He sees your expression and his gaze hardens. You don’t look away, despite the desperate need to do so.

It’s not every day you match a stare that can only be compared to molten lava as it pours out from the beneath the broken earth. Yet, despite the heat in his gaze, you are left ice cold.

You try to focus towards his right; towards the eye with the shade you remember. It’s a shade you had once drunkenly told him could have resembled the Pilt if it wasn’t so polluted or the sky if it wasn’t filled with ash and smoke. He’d laughed and you’d relished the sound, the warmth.

“It... it’s been a long time,” you manage to croak out.

He nods sharply, slowly straightening himself up, as he’s staring at you, through you. The dark scar reaches up towards his temple, carving deep valleys in his skin, all the way up towards his hairline, where the strands are tinged with grey.

“A lot has happened,” he says.

You want to ask him a million questions. Where has he been? What has he been doing? What really happened that night? But what you really want to ask him now, is how he simply could have abandoned you. 

But instead you say nothing, finally breaking his gaze to find your sketchbook on the floor. You bend over to retrieve it. Your graphite must have rolled somewhere. You can’t find it.

He watches you, but doesn’t offer to help, keeping the front desk between you both. When you finally right yourself, you hope that maybe your tongue can find the words for all of the nuanced emotions that you are feeling. You want to scream. You want to cry. 

You gather your thoughts, until you are satisfied that you will be able to string together a coherent sentence.

“What the fuck, Silco?” It comes out angrier than you had intended.

He snorts.

“Now, that’s the girl I remember.” The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, but it’s not quite a smile. Still, it feel’s like you’re falling. And you’re not quite sure how you are going to catch yourself. You know it won’t be a soft landing.

You shake your head. He’s as infuriating as you remember.

“You can’t be here. You’re supposed to be...” you falter, unsure.

“Dead?”

“That was certainly one of the options.”

“I can assure you I am not quite so easy to kill.” Silco says, his hand reaching up towards his neck before it wavers halfway and is instead shoved into his pocket.

It’s the first time you notice his attire. The material of his unbuttoned burgundy shirt may have been expensive at one point, but the edges are frayed with use and the sleeves have been sewn in several spots. Over it, he wears a patched vest that may have been black at some point, but has since faded to brown. Several golden buckles adorn it. One is broken.

He wasn’t easy to kill, perhaps, but he’s seen his fair share of hardships. That sense of sadness floods over you again.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Silco, what are you doing here?”

He stares you up and down again, as if dissecting you. You notice his eyes linger at the fresh ink across your shoulder, arching towards your neck.

He’s more intimidating than you remember, the eye certainly helps with that. But, you refuse to look sheepish in front of this man. You cross your arms as you wait for your answer, coyly raising your eyebrow at him.

“Well?”

Only his right eye narrows before he turns away, stalking out through the front door.

“Follow me,” he throws over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.

You’re surprised when you don’t take a moment to consider, instead scrambling for your keys to lock the shop behind you. You jog after him to catch up.

“Silco! Damn it, wait!”

He stops. “It’d be wise to stop shouting that name through the Lanes.”

“And it would be wise for you to actually explain what’s going on here,” you huff as you catch up to him. You refrain from reaching up to grab at his sleeve.

“Soon,” he utters.

And then, you’re following him Out of the Lanes, through back alleys and over rooftops, you’re desperately trying to keep up. It’s almost exhilarating to do this again, like you’d never even missed a day.

You can’t help admire him as he swings across a bannister and balances gracefully on the edge of a narrow stone wall. He holds his hand out for you. Without giving yourself a chance to chicken out, you jump. Your balance isn’t nearly as practiced as his, however, and you stumble, your arms swinging wildly as you slip.

But then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you forward until you’re stable.

You can feel the heat rise up the back of your neck and you snatch your hand away before he can feel it spread to your palm.

“Thanks,” you mutter, looking anywhere that isn’t him.

With a nod and a slight smirk, he’s off again, before you can even catch your breath.

“Jackass,” you swear under your breath.

You don’t question him further as you leave the Lanes. You realize you’re nearing the old cannery down by the docks. You eye the shattered windows and crumbling brick of its facade. Fitting, you muse.

Finally, you’ve reached solid ground. Soon after entering the Cannery, you reach a darkened staircase that leads underground. You hesitate, realizing where this man is taking you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Silco says with a roll of his eyes, as if reading your mind. He inclines his head towards the stairs. “Come on.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” you scoff, as you follow him down the stairs, careful not to touch the odd purple vines that snake around the bannister.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting. Maybe a damp, cramped basement? Perhaps. What you hadn’t expected was a wide expanse of a room that you can only describe as a lair. The ceilings soar and the walls and staircase are fitted with sharp, curving metal adornments.

You find tables cluttered with several vials and other laboratory equipment. Tall, glowing vessels are filled with motionless creatures you don’t know how to describe. You cringe, not caring to find out.

The air is slightly sweet, not the moldy, musty smell you would have predicted.

Silco waves and you follow his line of sight to a gaunt man with safety goggles crouched over one of the desks. The man nods back before returning to his work.

“Don’t mind him.”

You nod sharply, before turning back to Silco, who is stalking towards the edge of the room.

Your reply catches on your lips, however, when you notice movement behind what you had originally pinned as a wall. It’s not a wall, however, but glass, a window to what must be the River Pilt behind it.

Before you even realize what you are doing, you’ve stepped right up to the window, pressing your palm against the glass. Your eyes widen as your jaw grows slack.

You never knew anything could even grow that huge.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Only Silco’s low timber would be enough to break the trance you’ve found yourself in, staring out into the depths. You tear your gaze away to find his own boring into you.

“I...” You stutter. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. No one knows they’re there? How... how are they so big?”

Silco chuckles softly at that, which surprises you.

“I suppose they’re not the only creatures cursed by Piltover’s runoff.”

You quickly glance to his scarred eye, before catching yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you turn back to glass. In the distance, you see several long limbs, tentacles, dancing through the water. You swallow hard.

“I mean, thanks for the view,” You start, “But you can only imagine what I’m feeling with all of,” you wave your arm in arc over your head. “this.”

You mindlessly take a step towards Silco, who is now staring down at you past his nose. “A mysterious man, who was either dead or who I’m supposed to wish should be, showing up on my proverbial doorstep, a nighttime stroll over rooftops, giant monsters in an underground lair—”

You’re rambling, you realize, and so you take a deep breath. You take another step towards him, though you’ve crossed your arms again.

“I just... I’m still waiting on some answers here.”

Silco is motionless for several moments. His mouth opens and closes several times, and for once, you think he is uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He’s nervous, you realize. Somehow, that notion emboldens you slightly. You’re on more level playing ground.

“How... No matter what you did, what Vander did, whatever happened between you that day...”

You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before Silco’s eye narrows and he shies away, turning sharply as he stalks to the center of the room, his back towards you. His shoulders are set back a little too far, his posture a bit too tight, hands clenched in fists.

He runs his hand over his hair to smooth back a piece that had fallen from the tie.

You wait in silence, to finally get the answers you’ve waited years for.

“The thing is...” He falters.

You only barely restrain yourself from throwing your hands around his bare neck and strangling him.

“I was hoping I could... commission some work from you.” It’s said softly, shyly almost.

That doesn’t stop the scoff that wells up in your throat before you’re able to stifle it. You stare him up and down, dissecting the state of his clothes, suddenly realizing that you have the power here. It’s refreshing.

You strut up to him. He can surely hear your footsteps, but seemingly refuses to turn around to look at you.

“Are you sure you can afford me?”

“Don’t be insulting,” he replies firmly over his shoulder, turning his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the scarred eye.

“So that’s it?” You say, undeterred. You don’t hesitate this time as you wrap your fingers around his arm, pulling, forcing him to look at you. “After all this time, you could have just come into the shop like a normal person, and made an appointment.”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring down at you. You stare back.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Yeah, fine,” you concede. “Still, did you really need to drag me halfway across the Undercity to make your point? I’m sure there are plenty of places that we could have found a bit of privacy.”

Instead of answering, Silco shifts his gaze to your hand, which has found itself in a vice grip around his firm bicep. He arches his right brow back towards you. You release his arm as if burned.

“Sorry... I—“

“Don’t be.”

“I uh...” you mutter as you walk over to one of the chairs by the edge of the room, throwing yourself into it. To think you thought you were going to get some sort of answers from this man. You’ve finally found you’re exhausted. Focus on what you’re comfortable with.

“Do you have any—“ you sigh. “What were you thinking of getting done?”

Silco’s follows you over. You don’t appreciate how he now looms above you. He seems to notice, however, and pulls up a chair besides you, straddling it, folding his arms over the back of the chair. 

“Why do you think I brought you here?”

At that, you follow his gaze back to the sea creatures drifting out in the dark waters.

“So... sea creatures? That’s what you want done. Gotta spot in mind?”

Silco nods.

“All of it.”

“You mean?”

“All of it.”

#silco x f!reader #reader insert #tattoos as therapy #Drawn to the Surface #Silco with tattoos #Tattoo Artist!Reader #Post-betrayal #Pre-Act I #Silco #Reader #Fanfic

[circusmothman]

Little boy Indrel I drew to go along with an AU we’ve been working on, tho this is his canon young appearance as well. He had such polite kid vibes, and then he’d pull up his blood filled sippy cup for a drink because vampire genes lmao.

#hollow knight #hollow knight oc #my oc #hk indrel #spoodermoffs #pre-act I #Mercy AU

[literallyaflame]

okay. listen. if you ever find yourself falling into a new ideological circle, pay attention. if you notice that you’re among people who define themselves as part of an “in-group” with a pre-prepared human “enemy” to constantly rail against—if everyone fantasizes about the mental state of these loathsome monsters, if they participate in witch hunts or (perhaps worse) poke bears and court harassment on purpose to comfort each other over—get the fuck out. you haven’t been enlightened to some grand conspiracy, there are no evil “enemies” or “degenerates” trying to rip apart the fabric of society, and you do not have the moral duty to “enlighten” anyone to whatever you think the “truth” is. it’s neither safe nor normal to spend hours of your day fighting with strangers on the internet

a lot of people wear this shit like a badge of honor, but it’s also not normal to hide your “in-group” status as a form of martyrdom, relishing when the “enemy” slips up around you. it’s comforting in the moment, but in the long run, you’re alienating yourself from the world outside of your bubble. the more you alienate yourself, the more vulnerable and lonely you become, and the harder it is to reject the comfort of belonging to the “in-group”

i’m writing this from the perspective of someone who grew up in a cesspool of awful, cult-like rural churches—which is its own situation—but i see similar shit happening in online communities all the time, both within and 800 miles outside of my own ideological principles. yes, every toxicass radfem i block seems to be trapped in a version of this vicious cycle, but i also see it happening in random queer circles and niche fandom communities. no one is immune, not even me. i’ve watched people fall into this shit and never make it out. be careful

#some ideologies come pre-baked with this nonsense #because they naturally revolve around an in-group and an out-group #but i swear to god people will start acting like this over fucking #anime shipping wars #which probably seems harmless to most people #but those communities skew very young #and i have no doubt that it can be psychologically damaging #no matter how inconsequential it seems to my jaded 26 year old brain #me when i make a post

[lokh]

so ive been thinking so hard about that transfem butch zoro au.

i feel like at the Very beginning (after kuinas death) she does try to present real feminine like but it doesnt feel like Her and eventually she stops doing it (and in any case its not like kuina was super feminine so why would she try to be like that??)

on the other hand she HAS to make sure everyone knows shes a woman when she beats their ass and becomes the worlds greatest swordsman. so sports bras (or equivalent whatever) and open shirts are a staple

i think she would do hrt (or equivalent Whatever) because again she wants to prove that kuina could have done it. unfortunately i do also think this means she trains about 1 million times as hard

trans sanji............. coming to the realisation that maybe she Wants to be taken care of by a hot butch........................ as a pretty femme

#the lil fashion drawing wasnt initially supposed to have a corset but i had a dream about it specifically irt sanji. so LMAO #one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #art #the mellorine bullshit.......... i feel like. what happens is that sanji (using he/him Pre egg cracking) #thought she was a man at first. developed the rivalry. and by the time he realised she was a woman it was awkward for everyone to backtrack #but i dont think he could stand the idea that hes not treating a woman right and i also think that would be shitty lmao #but he just cant treat her like that. but he still sees her as a woman. i think instead hes acting in a way to affirm her butchness.... #does that make any sense. adghdbshbjgg

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] Steph and Damian doodle! This taps a bit into their pre-52 dynamic so that's what I was thinking design wise at first but I wanted to draw it w their more recent designs as well to stay hashtag current and topical, so you get both/a fusion, lol

#dc comics #dc #batfamily #damian wayne #stephanie brown #tims there too but he's not the focus so i won't clog his tag #for this to be completely in character Damian would have to be much more disinterested in what she's saying #or i mean ACT disinterested in what she's saying. he's very interested in violence done to tim. esp by his favorite weird big sister #THEY (tim n damian) DO NOT HATE EACH OTHER BTW. this is just the cain instinct at work. also admiration for unhinged steph #idk how much of pre-52 is in play rn visa vie steph (i know cass was still discovering her pre52 past in spirit world so...) #but for the sake of this lets say the brick meeting from detective comics og is still valid. bc i love it #steph violent eye-for-an-eye scrapper tendencies and tims insanity (HE'S STILL INTO HER AFTER THIS) on full display #i don't post a lot of dc fanart bc i find them exceedingly difficult to draw (DRAWING SUPERHEROES IS HARD WHEN UR BAD AT ANATOMY) #(ALSO THERE'S NO CONSISTENT FACIAL/HAIR/ETC DESIGN FOR ANYONE) #but i have done a lot of art and now I'm trying to make an effort to post a wee bit more

[a2zillustration]

We made it to the end of Act 2! Is it really a d&d campaign if someone isn't having an emotional breakdown in the middle of a group hug?

| First | | Previous | | Next |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

#that note you can pull from Ketheric killed me #which made me think about how Croissant's been handling everything that's happening #learning that all their new friends are just absolutely donked by life pre-tadpole #Baldur's Gate 3 is a comedy! Baldur's Gate 3 is a tragedy! #listened to a lot of Pickin' On Modest Mouse while making this one #which was surprisingly melancholic and nostalgic I haven't listened to that album in years #appropriate #anyway sorry for rambling let's get into act 3! #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #act II spoilers #croissant adventures #tav #wyll #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #gale #astarion #comics #oh yeah this one was definitely for: learning how to draw crying

[uncanny-tranny]

I just have to say that it's so weird reading how transphobes think of trans bodies as mutilated and gross when they never would have thought my body pre-transition was worthy. The "argument" of mutilated beauty that transphobes have tossed around is just a fear mongering tactic, because they don't tend to actually love or appreciate and see value in bodies that don't "neatly" fit into male and female, with no overlap and no nuances.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #i saw so many transphobes agonizing about a trans guy who developed acne from transition... #...they were agonizing about how he ruined his skin and beauty and how *they* didn't find him attractive anymore (how sad /s) #i read that and i realized... pre-transition i had a ton of acne (it's not gotten worse at all so far) #pre-transition i had very broad shoulders (to the point i was made fun of for how i'd act because of my broadness) #pre-transition i inherented most of the traits of the males in my family... #...and if i didn't transition - if i were cis? those same transphobes would think of me just as poorly and they'd hate my body and my soul #because it isn't about 'saving people'. it's about control. it's about manipulating the human experience into two neat boxes #and that excludes people like me. it excludes intersexness and natural variation in human bodies. #transphobia #transphobia tw #like this is shit i knew ever since i first interacted with a transphobe but it to this day blows me away

[palin-tropos]

it’s understandable to see folks saying pre-amnesia harry is a fixed character and your choices in the game can’t change who he was. but it’s also fascinatingly incorrect

when you talk to idiot doom spiral about your tequila sunset escapade, idiot doom spiral tells the story of that night slightly differently depending on what political leanings you’ve chosen, and what “copotype” you’ve adopted

I know it’s a small thing but I noticed it in game and immediately thought “oh it’s cool that the game changes who harry used to be based on how you play him now”

but other people seem really confident that there is only one pre-amnesia harry du bois so 🤔 idk what to make of that. it seems like there is a case for disagreement here

#disco elysium #disclaimer: yes I know all of the many things that aren’t changeable about him #i have read his wikipedia ok but this isn’t about that #this is about the suggestion that his pre-canon life can be read in more than one context #and the game actively encourages that? with this idiot doom spiral convo #like if you act like a communist now the game says pre-amnesia harry was a communist too etc

[askinsufferableprick]

is this thing working?

oh shit it is this is officially happening lets fuckin go

ok so uh welcome ladies, gents n such to the offical ask blog for the world renowned creator of SBHJ and various other cool blogs i know yall got a billion questions such as whos that super cool dude on camera there's no way that's the one and only dave strider himself i knew he was a epic dude but this is way beyond anything i could have imagined how does such a famous and busy guy got the time for yet another dope as hell blog or like hey doesnt putting your name and face up online go against like basic internet safety protocol all valid questions guess you gotta go throw some asks in that empty as fuck ask box if you want any of the answers

#dave strider #homestuck #homestuck ask blog #hs #homestuck fanart #ask blog #dave strider ask blog #ask dave strider #askinsufferableprick #((my partner and one of my besties r horrible ppl who decided that instead of discouraging me from making this they did the opposite so #now here we are....... #been ages since i had an ask blog so well see how this goes #are ask blogs even still a thing??? do ppl still like these?? anyway #gonna try my hand at pretending to be dave well see how it goes lol #and its gonna be dave from all over the timeline btw not just pre sburb but thought itd be fitting to start there #as i am rereading the comic and am early in act 1 #also please go check the actual blog instead of the basic little mobile looking thing #i spent way to much effort on that thing for it to never be seen #ok thats all for now lol))

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Smth abt Gabriel really makes people go hogwild huh . I don’t think I’ve ver met a sane Gabriel fan we’re all rabid dogs around here.

Yeah,,

#I’m the left but I can’t form coherent sentences so you’d never see the paragraphs #especially #pre act II gave enjoyers are deranged ask me how I know <- this user is one of them #shaking. foaming at the mouth. curled up in a ball. #non voice post #ask #asks

[arabian-batboy]

I miss the era where Batman Dick would always freak out when he hears that Damian is fighting someone alone and everyone assumes its because he's worried about his safety, when in reality he's worried about the safety of the people fighting him.

#I miss when he was allowed to be badass #I think I might do a reread of Damian's appearances pre-N52 #sure it would be annoying to constantly be reminded every 5 minutes that he's a brat by other characters #but it would be worth it to see him acting like himself again #Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson

[izzyliker]

i already know i’m gonna get a knee jerk “oh so you wanted them to show hole onscreen???? you think the only way to show love is by fucking and sucking????” reaction to this bc it’s what ppl always say when the shows portrayal of like instances of Gayness b/w edstede gets criticized (like how rhys and taika visibly brace for impact before they kiss JFJSJCJSHF) but it’s like sad to me that the show never rly engages w Desire like you’re telling me that stede never calls ed handsome? they never look at each other like they’re Attracted to one another? Ohhh all the longing gazes are due to Emotional Desire like OK COOL well i wish they weren’t All bc of that?! “it’s a romcom not an R rated show! what do you expect” Well i would like them to start by having stede call ed handsome and brush a strand of hair off his face and slowly lean in to kiss him for an extended period of time and for them both to emerge out of it looking bashful and shy. this is what i would have them do For starters. if i was a writer in this show

#i’m saying Never bc the pre sex scene was underwhelming to me too bc their acting wasn’t doing it for me #i don’t think they can convince me that they’re attracted to each other LMAO #best wishes gargoyle king

[densitywell]

there's nothing orym would ask of the other hells that he wouldn't do himself, which is sort of the problem, really

#critical role #cr spoilers #orym of the air ashari #bells hells #if you don’t have a homegrown curse you can use to your advantage (moon powers) storebought is fine (deal with a hag)! #and its not even sunk cost fallacy or feeling like he needs to make the deal worth it i think. this is just what he feels is necessary #and its his own self worth and the value he places on his own life vs the importance of this cause. reflected back on the others #how the rest of the hells have adopted this mindset but with wavering conviction and doubt - not really fitting quite right #while it fits orym like a glove. bc that's who he is. it's what he's been taught. bc this conflict is his past and his present #and as far as he's considered it. his future! #me this morning: i will not get back into orymposting. orymposting is the mind killer. #me now: #eta: i guess this could be disputed by him saying fearne would have to be the one to take imogen out pre-solstice. #but i've always seen that as a purely practical 'who would actually be capable of doing this' issue as opposed to sentimentality. #he was fully ready to cut dorian in exu. however he may feel about the act his resolve is not an issue!

[undertheredhood]

jason 'raised by wolves' grace: *returning to camp jupiter as a soft boy with a girlfriend*

everyone in camp jupiter: *immediately getting in a circle around him to exorcise whoever it is that is possessing him because there is no way that is the jason grace they grew up with*

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #jason grace #camp jupiter #i know for a fact they were horrified when they saw him again #reyna shows piper a picture of jason and she cries because he used to have long hair #even nico was shook and he didn't know jason for that long and that's saying something #hazel is clutching her pearls and gasping #jason grace acts like a ray of sunshine and everyone in camp is begging hera to give him his memories back #octavian is sacrificing many plushies in the hopes that jason will go back to normal #dakota is begging his dad to cure jason's insanity because there is no other explanation for how he's acting #pre-hera jason was a feral boy you cannot tell me otherwise

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Business comes first! Drinking is the job!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #It's finally outfit change time! Third time for wwx and second for lwj! #I'm always a big fan of when characters change clothes and it's fun to change it up. #this scene once again emphasizes how much wwx acts in a reactionary way and gets *so thrown* when someone goes ‘yes-and’ #‘no lan zhan- you arent supposed to *agree*’ #there’s also a lovely gentleness to how he phrases it. Lwj just wants wwx to be happy. Bonus if he gets to be in proximity #wwx’s hedonism is a very interesting topic for another analytical rant #pre-burial mounds he’s a creature of pleasures! Post burial mounds? He doesnt feel alive enough to warrent enjoying life’s pleasures #i guess you could say both lwj and wwx have struggled comparing and contrasting two versions of each other

[neosero]

[ 01:15pm ] and sometimes you have to remind yourself they’re gods |

pt. ii Fontaine Version |

wc | 4.1k+ total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; dark themes; descriptions of drowning, death, false descriptions of the primordial sea aftermath, spoilers for archon quest 4.2 and beyond ( furina ); implied-kidnapping, false imprisonment [ ? ], i do not know how the court of law works womp womp, spoilers for version 4.2 and beyond ( special mention )

THE HYDRO ARCHON Focalors Furina | wc. 2.2k+

Have you heard…

The only place in all of Teyvat where rumors hold merit lies within Fontaine. Although it is the kingdom built on the ideals of a just society, its citizens aren't privy to the appeals of a tantalizing scandal or a possible scoop that has yet to hit The Steambird front page.

( What hasn't been proven within the Court, is just another wave in the sea of lies. )

A saying often passed around when undisclosed news spreads like spilled wine throughout the streets, but it’s only to show faux indifference. Even the most proper of citizens still sit with bated breaths awaiting the next whispered word on the street.

Especially when it's in relation with that of the Regina of all waters, kindreds, people and law. Lady Furina De Fontaine.

…she was there you know. The day of the Mont. Esus massacre.

"What are you doing here?"

Furina jumps in surprise, completely absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear your approach. She is quick to recover though, fixing her posture and outstretching her arms diagonally. “Can an Archon not come to bask in the scenery of her domain?" She spins slowly, sunlight aided with the gentle breeze to illuminate the flow of her garments.

You push air through your nose. "Right my apologies, your grace." You bow just as exaggerated as the woman before you. She smiles to herself at the gesture, returning the bow herself. Just as you stand upright she grasps your hand, dragging you over to the pond she was previously fixated on so intently.

The water is perfectly stilled, the breeze does nothing to shift its tranquility and the sight of your reflections together is so peaceful. The clouds above dance behind you and some birds even fly overhead to give show. It’s too peaceful.

You pull away from her grasp, unlacing your interlocked hands.

The action brings a ripple through the pond.

"Furina...what are you doing here?" You question more seriously. Not only is it just past midday, around the same time she would normally spend tasting the many delicacies of Fontaine, but also Mont. Esus is too far from the Opera Epiclese. She would never miss a chance to see the scheduled retelling of Mort au bord de L'eau, so for her to be here of all places now isn’t a good sign.

"You hurt me with such inquiries. I just wanted to see the sights, and I find it better for such a celebrity as myself to remain discreet unless I cause such a scene in your peaceful town." Her arms fold over her chest, seeming all too pleased with her own answer. You should be able to take her words as they are, but in light of recent events you can see right through her cover up.

"You come in through the main docks and pass through the main trails of the city — where everyone can see you — to be discreet?"

"Yes, precisely."

"Furina, what's going on? This isn't like you at all." You cross your arms as well, eyebrows cast down in confusion. She shrugs at that, finding it better for once to keep her mouth shut than clear her name. You press on.

"Does this have anything to do with that trial?" The news of the Court is hard to escape, even for those of Fontaine's who choose to stay off the grid like you do. It has become the first widespread topic of the town here; the Hydro Archon wrong!

It’s all anyone would ever talk about since the trials climax and it's been weeks. To be frank, you’re tired of it. Not only has it caused work around the town to slow, but also people have started to believe your close relationship with the archon means you must know every detail. You’ve been fighting for a private moment to yourself for so long it feels weird to not see any people gawking at your every move. With the amount of attention you’ve been getting you can only imagine the scale of paparazzi that have been on Furina’s back.

So, the trial is the only plausible cause and seeing how stiff she gets with the question means you hit a nerve. She looks far more uncomfortable now, gaze turned to the shaking pond beside your feet.

When did this start?

“Everyone has their off days, Furina. I’m sure one wrong verdict won’t kill you.” You had thought the words would give some light relief to the situation, but her body shutters looking paler than she had before. Her neck turns in your direction so quick you fear it would snap. She looked at you almost as if you’d actual meant it. Her expression concerns you, you reach out to her but fall short.

The ground is shaking and you stumble to find good footing. “An earthquake?” You think out-loud, the shaking picks up again with an aggression that throws Furina into your arms. This is no normal earthquake.

…she had the nerve to cry at the trial as if this wasn’t her own undoing.

The tremor increases in ferocity, your balancing wavering as it feels like the earth would open up right underneath your feet. "What's happening?" Furina voice quivers as she clings to you desperately. You cannot tell yourself what this could be but the screams in the distance vocalize the worst possibility. You break away from her, accidentally shoving her to the ground but you cannot find it in yourself to care right now. The quakes have you crawling up the top of the mountain as best you can to catch sight of the commotion from your town below...and it's a ghastly sight.

Buildings explode one by one as the townspeople run for their lives. Geysers in the color of vibrant blues and purples shoot out from where their homes and businesses once stood mere seconds ago. The water ( if you can even call it that ) continues to burst from the earth in great force, forcing many of the people to the ground with its violence. The citizens you can make out from this distance trample over one another, parents screaming for lost children and others yelling for people to get to the docks or any high place away to where it could be safe. It’s a disaster.

And the worst had yet to come.

The geysers let out a gentle rain as the strange liquid pours down to mix in with the blood and tears of the fallen. Slowly one by one the legs of the townspeople can't seem to hold their weight, the hands they use to crawl away with a desperate urgency become translucent and the screams lodged in their throats sink into the now rising waters leaving behind nothing but damp clothes.

They are dissolving.

Furina gasps at your side. The dirt on her knees shows she’s crawled her way up the mountain too. She brings her gloved hands up to shield her from the gruesome sight. You cannot explain why it angers you. Watching her sit here and cower in fear when she is supposed to be a god; it lights a match in your heart. You fall to her level, screaming.

"You’re the Hydro Archon! Furina, do something!" You clutch your archon by the shoulders, grip tight and painful with your distress. Those are your friends down there, your citizens — her beloved kin. She should be diving in to save them and not stuck here rooted to the floor like a child.

"I can't." Furina stutters broken, the tears you hadn’t even noticed continue more fiercely down her face collecting with the snot and drool. You had never seen her this broken before.

"The prophecy...it...I cannot fight this” She hiccups. She continues to mumble words with a meaning you cannot understand even as you let her go. You rack your brain for everything you could possibly do in this situation. A few people in the distance have managed to find a place high enough above ground to beat the rising waters and with enough coverage to block out the acidic rain. If you can get to the docks unscathed and take a boat you could save.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and stand. Looking out to the sea you can make out a few boats still close to the docks, though the rocking waves could drift them away any moment. You take a few strides backwards. It is now or never.

"Prophecy or whatever, I won't just watch them all die." The glider solidifies on your back, Anemo vision drawing out a faint glow as Furina clutches her top hat as the wind suddenly picks up. Her eyes widen as she watches you turn to the edge of the cliff, "You don't mean to go down there!"

You ignore her, sweat trickling down your temple. You extend your arms ready to dive. Ready to jump.

But she isn't ready to let you go.

Just as your feet leave the ground, Furina hands fly out to grab you. "No!" The thought of you ending up like them, left with nothing but a wad of damp clothing to remember you has her spring into action. She cannot lose you like this, she won't.

She clutches onto the material of your glider tightly preventing your descent. "What are you doing?!" You look behind you as you watch her dangle from the cliff, strange hydro creatures mimicking the ones you have seen along the beaches of Fontaine keep her from falling and you from flying any further out of reach. "Let me go!"

She doesn't budge determined to get you back as these creatures are determined to pull her back to the safety of Mont. Esus...all uncaring of the tearing fabric.

There isn’t enough time to notice it either, not until it's too late. The audible tear brings you both back to reality but everything feels slowed. Her gaze falls to the piece of cloth in her hands and then to your descending body. Your hands outstretched to one another but already too far to reach. With half a functioning glider you cannot steady yourself right, only left to flail and spin uncontrollably into the welcoming embrace of the primordial sea.

Furina doesn’t know why she watches it all. Maybe as a punishment for her inability to live up to being an archon, or a sort of cruel torture to remind herself she is just like everyone else: human.

Whatever it may be, watching you flail and wither in the sea with your arms slowly melting and mixing in with the water. Watching you look up gaze up at her stoic and unwavering in your final moments. Seeing your clothes resurface but not you.

It just shows her how terrifyingly real it all is.

…she still visits the graves apparently; talking, watering and replacing the flowers of one the tombs herself.

It's been six months since the primordial sea almost swallowed Fontaine whole.

Furina kneels with her knees to her chest talking to her reflection in the pond atop of Esus. Her reflection mirrors her every move but the wind distorts the water and leaves the growing clouds in the sky moving at a quick pace trying to follow.

Neuvillette must be overworking himself again.

Even so, she continues to relay the events of the new Fontaine. How the people have grown accustomed to knowing the truth behind her — no, Focalors' lies. The talk of being oceanids is more of a passing joke now than a belief of origin. The people have grown to embrace the Opera once again as well, she even mentions her recent debut as a director. Her smile is as soft and bright as the sun peaking through the clouds. The birds join in her conversation, chirping as they pass by and some circle around her.

It's all so peaceful, until it isn’t.

“Furina.”

The voice is gentle, like a whisper of the wind during a new spring morning. She knows it isn’t behind her or anywhere else around her, so she looks back down to the lake.

Instead of her reflection, it’s you who smiles back.

“Let me go, Furina.”

Her eyes water, just like before.

"I'm so sorry."

A stray tear falls from her cheek into the water and the ripple it leaves changes its color. A once clear blue shifts to the same vibrant purples of that day. Your face isn’t happy anymore, instead that same anger expression that plagues her worst nightmares has returned.

“You’re the Hydro Archon! Do Something!”

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

The lake begins to bubble as you yell out to her. The grass around the edge dies off slowly, shifting to an ugly black goop. The birds squawk in distress and take flight away from the danger. Even through it all, Furina’s smile never wavers as she stands. She turns away, tears freefalling off her cheeks now as she descends the mountain like every other day.

Your screams follow her along like the howling wind. She clutches a ripped garment into her chest tenderly, the only piece of you she has left to remember.

Have you heard, near the summit of Esus rests Lost Lovers Lagoon - the last place the primordial sea submerged. If you listen closely you can still hear the cries of those lost to the storm. Some say it was left by someone higher than the archons, to remind us not to question the gods ever again. Some say the souls of the guilty go there to rot away. No one really knows how this came to be or why Mount. Esus... no one but the Hydro Archon who still keeps secrets from her people. Never having learned her lesson.

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Neuvillette | wc. 1.8k+

"Murderer!"

Your attorney, your mother, tells you to still yourself.

She reminds you not to react to their uncivilized behavior lest you want this to all be for nothing. The court of Fontaine is unforgiving and if you show even the slightest mistake of doubt they will chew you through like wolves to fresh prey. Never in your life have you seen such barbaric treatment in the court of law, but then again you shouldn't have expected much within the land of faux justice.

It's comical how even that thought would have sitting here in the position you are in now. Anything done within this city could be held against you in the court of law: freedom of speech, missing the trash can, accidental injury, hell even unauthorized balloon holding would get you a spot in the opera's next grand showing if you are a criminal or just an accused victim.

You hold your head high in your best attempt to seem unaffected by the heckles that only increase in number and volume. Having only been within the hydro-powered city for a few weeks, it's an action you have to learn lest you would want to gaze upon the walls of the Fortress the next century. Any emotion can make you a guilt-ridden convict under the gaze of the Opera Epiclese, so fighting for the public opinion is the only true way to win the court.

Public opinion here holds more merit than any substantial evidence presented could ever anywhere else in Teyvat. The mockery of the court being held in an opera house only adds more salt to your open wound. For if you fail to entertain in your fight for survival here...

Then what right do you have to continue living anywhere else?

"Retched butcher! You should have never been allowed into our city!"

"Order!" Neuvillette brings his cane down onto the wooden floor. The action rings an echo through the court so loud it stuns the audience into a silence. "I would advise against any more expletives, unless you wish to be escorted outside." His gaze scans through the crowd as they all settle into their seats.

You had believed the only real justice in this city was the man before you. The Iudex of Fontaine, Neuvillette was the overseer of all trials within Fontaine and the final say in every verdict. It is hard enough to see countless trials a week let alone your lifetime. However, he still attends them all, forgoing all personal connections to conduct a fair and just trial for both parties.

You had met the man the first day you arrived in Fontaine. He was there to greet your family and offered his welcomes to your mother for her promotion into the Court. He talked literature with your father to your housing, and even offered him a chance to visit his office to view the past trial records. Of course, you only saw this for its pleasantry; he was your mother's boss so the first meeting would be so polite and formal - for first impression's sake.

So it was only polite of you to allow his lips to grace your palm in greeting. You had believed it to be a foreign greeting, you are overseas and your research of Fontaine's culture and craft had little to do with their way of introduction. However in the eyes of Monsieur Neuvillette, you opened your heart to his courting.

For the trials you had come to see for your mother, a bouquet of flowers would be waiting in your seat with no signed owner. Desserts from the finest bakers would be given to you at restaurants free of charge on the count of a nice gentleman. Your father would come to your room to deliver a package of priceless jewelry that you couldn't even tell him the origin of. All still with no name.

It went on like this for weeks; the boxes kept piling in your room and you had started to send some of the jewels back, you started to decline the desserts having had way too many already and the sight of those flowers constantly brought a shake to your brows. You would have filed a report to the gardes if your secret admirer hadn't made himself known on your way home from lecture. Taking your regular route through the park, it was a surprise to see the Iudex occupying one of the benches. At his side the same set of flowers you cannot seem to escape.

You greet him out of respect and it's a greeting he returns. You both stand there in awkward silence for a while, his gaze piercing as he doesn't bother to look away from you at all. You clear your throat to fill the silence and it seems to snap him out of his daze, outstretching the flowers to you. You take them of course, feigning interest and taking a whiff of them. The smell irritates your nose. "These are lovely."

"You've noticed them."

"Well, they are beautiful and everywhere on display around the city. That and someone keeps sending them to me for some reason." You give a dry laugh picking off some of the petals, but Neuvillette doesn't notice your disinterest in the slightest. He looks almost relieved with your answer.

"Then you've enjoyed the desserts here as well?" The question turns the gears in your head. You raise a brow. "Uhm. They are sweet and delicious but I've had my fill of them until my next lifetime."

This brings a crease to Neuvillette's brows. "Do you not like the deserts, anymore? If the quality is the issue then I can have prepared differently to your tastes better. It shouldn't be too much of an issue with-."

"Wait wait. What are you talking about? Has all of this been you?"

"Yes. Have... have you not known?" He questions back just as confused as you are. These were the methods he has seen used on many of the performers of Fontaine, surely he hadn't taken the wrong approach.

You're baffled. "Of course not! You can't just do stuff like this without getting to know someone first, or informing them you are even interested."

"But is this not how you show interest in a partner?"

His words flow so calmly and yet still confused as if he had made a mistake. You hold the bridge of your nose. It feels like you're teaching a child, how has he not known basic romantic interaction in his time?

"Oh heavens. You're my mother's boss, Monsieur Neuvillette. Even if I had any interest, this wouldn't be right to do." You speak calmly, gesturing to the flowers between you both. "It would raise too many questions and put my mother's job at risk."

"I wouldn't want to get in her way of success, or take you away from the court you really love." Neuvillette takes in your words solemnly, nodding as he brings his hands to his chin.

"Of course. You are right. I was being selfish, please accept my deepest apologies."

You did, if things were different then maybe it could have been. However, as things stand it would just be inappropriate to agree. You hand him back the flowers and bid him farewell. A low rumble of thunder picks up in the sky suddenly, and it leaves you scurrying home trying to save your notes from the intense downpour. Leaving Neuvillette behind drenched in his sorrows.

Of course you should have known better, things are never that easy. There are no tragedies within this city, Neuvillette will make sure of that.

"With all the evidence presented we shall now look to the Oratrice Mec-. Hm...my apologies."

A silence rings through the Opera, one that leaves a chill down your spine. It was a recent development within Fontaine, one that still holds a full page in the Steambird papers that you can't escape: the dismissal of the Hydro Archon, Furina. Prior to this, Neuvillette would always have a second opinion, one that even lady Furina wouldn't object to. The Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinale was a solidifier for Neuvillette for when even he had doubts for a verdict, like now.

But that machine is no more. Now the final decision is his alone.

There is no Hydro Archon to look over, no machine to solidify his verdicts for trials. He is the power of Fontaine; the pinnacle of the nation of justice. He is the overseer of what is good or evil, what is just and unjust in his society.

Whatever choice he makes now will be the final decision. His word would be law. And you would have to follow it without question.

Whether right or wrong.

A glow begins to rise at the tips of his hair, something only you seem to notice. Your heart rate picks up. Neuvillette sighs deeply, an action that drops your father's heart into his stomach. Your blood runs cold.

"As Supreme ruler of Fontaine, I hereby declare the accused guilty of all charges."

Your father wails at your side, crumbling to his knees in sorrow. Your mother takes the glasses off her face in defeat, her hands coil around the bearings as she herself fights the unshed tears. Everything was in your favor; the verdict should have gone to them. Your hands shake at your sides in disbelief.

"However, I see a light of hope in your case. So you will not be banished to the Fortress of Meropide."

What? Your head darts to the judge. If not the Fortress, then-

"I will see to your parole myself, and personally ensure justice is upheld. It'll give you a second chance to reconsider your choices." Your father seems to cry harder in glee, standing on wobbly legs to embrace you. Your mother holds him there, thanking the judge for his generosity and sparing you a chance. The crowd follows suit in praise and applause, heckles turned cheers as they all claim him the true Sovereign of Justice. Their sudden mood change leaves a terrible stir in your gut.

Your parents hold you close in their arms in the belief that they won't have to go without seeing you for long. Your father cannot calm his tears, and your mother grips your shoulder firmly as he tells you to be on your best behavior in order to repay this blessing. However, you couldn't care less about any of them as they have fallen to the enemy. You center your gaze on the cold hard stare of the man on the pedestal.

Neuvillette doesn't look away from you, taking in the anger and disbelief that seethes from you in what you can only think is curiosity. You should curse him, launch your shoe across the stage and force a worse sentence that would keep you far away from him but you are too drawn to his stare to move.

In all that time you spent together you had never noticed but...

Were his irises always so narrow?

a/n i | sorry yall this should've been done weeks ago but neu's part really messed me up like it wasn't writers block or anything because the ideas were there i just didn't like any of them ( including this one but this was sadly the best one i could put into words )

a/n ii | to the anon and others who have shown interest in another installment of the 'archon' collection just know i haven’t forgotten about you i just wanted to do this first becuz i wanted to include a certain someone in that request! i swear the next part will be sooner than the two months it took for this to complete do not hate me anon!!

#furina x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin angst #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin imagines #[ gem’s timestamps — ⌚️ ] #fyi part one was made pre fontaine and i had barely gotten through act one of the quest #finally got through with this #fontaine characters are really something to me #i had a moment with both characters because they're #just so dear to me along with their tragedies #also thought about adding arlecchino ( the knave ) to this #but she isn't from fontaine and also i need more info on the harth