#Rukkhadevata fanfic

[ikesenhell]

A Sun Long Gone: Epilogue

You can find all masterlists at the top of my page (AO3, Genshin Impact, Ikemen Sengoku, and Ikemen Vampire). NOTES: This work is 18+. TW: nonsexual nudity, vague allusions to adult content.

Surprise! This was a concept that I had for the last chapter and couldn't fit it in reasonably. It seemed like a nice note to end the entire piece on, so here it is.

---

The night after Dainsleif put on the silver lotus bracelet, he dreamed of Rukkhadevata’s apartment. It was just as he remembered: books in the living room, the warm smell of naan bread in the kitchen, stained glass lamps casting bright colors against the shelves. He wore the same clothes they’d given him that fall in Sumeru. His hair was more managed and tied back in the ponytail he used to wear. 

But this dream was slightly different. Typically they made no sense, imbued with their own rules and logic. Walls might become ceilings. Books might speak. And Dainsleif never had control over himself, much less the faculties to recognize he was asleep. This time he did.

He shifted on the plush carpet and supposed it made sense that he was here. After all, he’d only just learned about Rukkhadevata’s death and received that last correspondence. Broken hearts had a way of shaping their own reality. Leaning into the experience, Dainsleif tread softly across the floor and peered outside. Yes–this was Sumeru as he’d experienced it seven years ago. Moonlight pooled in the river and over the green rooftops. 

From the bedroom, a familiar voice called, “What are you doing in there?”

Dainsleif paused. What if his subconscious warped everything? Would she be as he remembered, or some creature, half-formed out of grief? But there was nothing for it. Dragging his courage together, he crossed the threshold of the bedroom.

There she was. There she was. Rukkhadevata lay in bed, a sheet draped over her legs and pooling in the curve of her waist. That was all that covered her. Her hair lay in rivers across a pillow. Green eyes peered curiously at him, illuminated in the golden glow of a lamp. Her fingers splayed over a book she was reading, holding her place. Dainsleif rested against the door frame and soaked her in. There was no power–not the gnosis, not Celestia, not all those that came before and nothing that came after–that could create a wonder like her. 

Rukkhadevata giggled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear. “You’re going to make me blush, staring at me like that.”

“I’ll beg for forgiveness later,” Dainsleif murmured. “Let me stare a little longer.”

“If you’re going to stare, why don’t you stare a little closer? I could put my book down.”

Were she still alive, he might’ve declined and left her to her book, slid into bed alongside her and been content to just be there. Now he was a bit more selfish. He shrugged off his shirt and folded it, heading to her side. “If you’d be so kind, pretty thing.”

How was it that she smiled so fucking beautifully? Rukkhadevata tucked a pressed leaf bookmark (Takama had made it for her) between the pages, shunting the book onto the bedside table. Damn all the buckles and buttons on his clothes. He couldn’t strip fast enough. Uncharacteristically, Dainsleif finally just tossed his pants onto the floor. 

“Impatient,” she teased, and opened her arms.

There was no way he could explain himself. He just slid under the sheets and into her embrace. Ah, and this was how he knew it was a dream. It felt as if her arms were slightly… fuzzy, as if they wrapped around him through a sheet, through a veil he couldn’t push away. Fine. He could content himself with this. Dainsleif buried his nose into her skin, kissed her in soft patterns everywhere he could reach. She sighed and pet his hair until, at last (and against his every effort), they both slipped into sleep. 

—

The next night, Dainsleif dreamed he was there again.

This time he wore his usual clothes. It was raining outside, massive sheets echoing hollowly on the roof. Dishes lay in the sink. Rukkhadevata was not in bed; she was on the couch, lounging in her robe, pouring over notes from some project or another. Strange. He’d never known a dream to continue like this. But again, he wasn’t in a position to argue. So he made himself comfortable and slung his arms around her, dragging her into his lap, and relished the way she laughed and playfully struggled against him. Hours passed like that. Dainsleif rested his head on her shoulder blade and breathed in her hair, and fell asleep once more. 

A week of dreams passed like this, all different. One night she was cooking. Another, they made out among the floor cushions in her bedroom. Yet another, they took a warm bath together, wreathed in the smell of jasmine. After eight days, Rukkhadevata kissed his forehead as they lay tangled together in bed. 

“You’ve been awfully clingy this week, my love. Is everything okay?”

Dainsleif froze. What? How could this be? This was a dream. She was dead. There was no way she should remember the other nights, right? Suddenly nervous, Dainsleif propped himself on his elbows and squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

Rukkhadevata rubbed his cheek with her thumb. Long, smooth strokes calmed him. Even if it didn’t feel quite right, it was enough. “Every night for the last week, you’ve wanted nonstop physical affection. I don’t mind, really, I’m just… I thought I’d ask.” 

“Give me an example.”

“We don’t normally take a bath together unless we’ve had sex first.”

So she did remember. Dainsleif opened his mouth, shut it, struggled to piece together sentences. “I… Huh.”

She lifted her brows. “Is nothing bothering you?”

If he told her what was wrong, she would have to know that she–the real Rukkhadevata, the one that existed beyond the confines of this room–was dead. If she knew she was dead, would he continue to be blessed with these dreams? Dainsleif didn’t know if he could risk it. So instead he buried his nose into her collarbone. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it,” he finally hedged. 

“Alright, darling.” It was impossible to miss the note of disappointment, though she kept it light. Rukkhadevata planted a kiss in his hair. “But you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. When I’m ready.”

—

Another night, another dream. In this one he’d just walked in the door. His shoes were still on. Rukkhadevata glanced up from the kitchen and smiled, drying her hands from the sink. 

“Hello, my love,” she greeted. “You just missed Jyoti. She made you a plate of dinner. Are you hungry?”

Dainsleif did a mental check. His dream-self wasn’t, so he shook his head. “No, but thank you. That was kind of her.”

“Do you want something to drink?”

“If you’re offering, certainly.”

He peeled off his boots. She pulled out two glasses and prepped something. It smelled faintly of flowers. When he joined her in the kitchen, he placed three kisses on her nose, relishing her giggles. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Nerves buzzed in his mouth. Dainsleif cleared his throat and pushed through them. “I can’t talk through all the details of this. It’s something I’m not supposed to talk about at all, strictly speaking–or, at least, I think I can’t. But I wanted your perspective.”

Rukkhadevata blinked at him. “If you can’t talk about it–”

“I can’t figure it out without you,” he admitted. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Just know that if I don’t give you every detail, it’s because I’m reasonably sure I can’t talk about that part.”

“Is this what’s been bothering you?”

“It is.”

She nodded seriously, petting his face. “Alright. I’m all ears.”

On a whim, Dainsleif grabbed her by her thighs and lifted her onto the kitchen counter. She giggled. He took her face in his hands and kissed her over and over and over. He didn’t stop until she was breathless and panting. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel perfectly right. He could feel her at all. She hooked her ankles around his waist and rested her chest against his, all glitter and smiles. 

“If this is my reward for listening to you, I should talk less.”

“Please don’t,” Dainsleif said, a little too seriously. “I’ll always want to hear you talk. Ready for the scenario?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a phenomena we’re… looking into.”

Rukkhadevata lifted her brows. “If this is a Khaenri’ahn project, then I understand why you couldn’t tell me.”

He didn’t have the heart to give her a yes or a no. Instead, he continued on, leaving her to her assumptions. “I can’t give you much background, but basically it’s this: the subject has been having a continued dream for a while now. It always picks up at the same point, when they get back home after a long day. They have full control over their dreams. Everything seems logical. There is only ever one other person in the dream, and it’s always the same person. Nothing of note happens. But the other person they’re dreaming of remembers the sequence of events from the dreams prior.”

“Huh.” Rukkhadevata frowned. “Maybe they’re linking up to the subconscious of the other subject through Irminsul?”

Dainsleif paused. “Could Irminsul link the subconscious of someone who is dead?”

A long, pensive silence. Rukkhadevata frowned at the ceiling. “In theory, yes.”

As much as he tried to hide it, he must’ve looked surprised. She continued. “There are many mysteries surrounding the Ley Lines and how they work, but some things we know. Multiple records have shown that they’re capable of playing back past events and projecting them onto the same location. With as much information as it holds on any one of us, I presume it might have enough information to present a convincing imitation of someone who is dead.”

The thought of Irminsul mimicking Rukkhadevata put a sour taste in his mouth. For the first time, Dainsleif seriously considered abandoning the dream. This wasn’t her. She was dead. He imagined the tree wearing her visage like a Whopperflower with Sweet Flowers and a revolted shiver passed through him. Either she didn’t notice or ignored it, because Rukkhadevata started slowly carding her hands through his hair, petting him as she reasoned through the scenario. 

“I presume by your question that the other party in question in these dreams has passed?”

Dainsleif shut his eyes, willing himself to focus. “Yes.”

“And from what you’ve said, the dreamer retains full movement, and everything makes sense as if it were the waking world…” Rukkhadevata hummed thoughtfully. “Well, it might be something else.”

Anything was better than this sickening marionette theory. “What other idea have you had?”

“It wouldn’t be entirely beyond the laws of this world for something to imbue a fragment of memory or consciousness onto another object. Did the subject come into possession of anything before these dreams began?”

The bracelet. Dainsleif hadn’t taken it off. Startled, he glanced up at her. “I think so.”

Nodding, she continued, “If that’s the case, I’d be very curious about that item.”

“Why?”

“Well, death is one of the greatest unknowables. It is the final frontier of knowledge. We know nothing about it, nor what may or may not happen after. If whoever granted that item to your subject was able to imbue it with enough of their consciousness to keep sentience within the framework of these dreams, it either means that they’ve maintained some level of cognition–either through Irminsul, their own power, or through death itself.”

Was that so? Dainsleif leaned back into her hands, resting his cheek to her chest. That was a far more comforting thought. Maybe–even in death–Rukkhadevata could reach him through the bracelet. “Would that kind of thing wear off?”

“I’d assume so,” she said. “If that’s indeed what happened and the deceased managed to create these dreams using an item as a conduit, like a catalyst. I’ve heard that some rocks hold memory, but only for a certain amount of time.”

“The object is silver. Does that matter?”

“To my memory, that’s the best conductor out there. I’d presume if anything were to hold such a thing, it would be silver.”

But that begged the question: for how long? Dainsleif shut his eyes and seriously considered not asking. Perhaps not being able to count the days would be more peaceful. If he knew the timeline he worked on, wouldn’t that be stressful?

No. The idea of sleeping one night and just never seeing her again, wholly unexpected, was unbearable. So he ground his teeth and said, “How long might that effect last?”

“I’m not sure. Months?”

Months? Was that it? Desperate for a better answer, Dainsleif lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Let’s say you tried to do something like that.”

She blinked. “Me?”

“You. Let’s say you somehow replicated this. How long do you think it would last?”

“That depends.” Once again, Rukkhadevata frowned at the ceiling. A tiny crease formed between her brows. Cute. She was so, so cute. This was his smart, beautiful, incredible woman, both in life and in death. “The Dendro Gnosis is powering the Akasha, so I’ll assume I don’t have access to that.”

“Makes sense.”

“Then I guess–assuming I figured out exactly how to do it–it would last…” She wiggled back and forth in his hands. “Anywhere from a few hundred to a thousand years?”

Dainsleif blinked. “Really?”

Rukkhadevata laughed. “It depends on how badly I wanted it. Bad enough, and I could stretch it to a thousand. I won’t lie and say I haven’t considered something like this before, I’m just surprised to hear that someone else did it first.”

“And I’m surprised to hear that you thought to do this.”

“Mhm. It was the day you told me you’d put your memories of us into the gold mushroom bracelet.”

He just stared at her, dumbfounded. Was he the reason they could speak like this now? Had one impulsive choice born of love really paved the road here? Rukkhadevata laughed and pressed her lips to his nose. “You look shocked.”

“I just didn’t know that.” An anxiety Dainsleif didn’t know he was carrying unwound in his chest. A few hundred years of dreaming like this? That was more than enough time. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist and pulled her impossibly close. By then, he’d have the curse sorted out. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dear.”

—

Night after night after night of dreams passed. Dainsleif would step into that familiar apartment and seek her out. Sometimes he just lay with her. Sometimes he would tell her about his day in broad strokes, sharing his pain and anxiety (though edited, as he didn’t have the strength to explain his life as it was). Sometimes he would arrive and smother her in kisses, working through the faint dissonance of a dream and make love to her anyway–even if it was just the memory of her. 

But in his waking hours, Dainsleif was forgetting things. He knew he was. He could feel them. The first time he fully realized that, he cried and cried in her arms, too alarmed to be strong. She held him and kissed him and murmured soft, gentle words until he could breathe through the fear. 

Some part of him realized it was only a matter of time. Maybe she did, too. Dream or not, Rukkhadevata was smart. Perhaps she’d pieced everything together an eternity ago. He suspected as much some nights. But if she had, they never spoke about it. 

And then: the inevitable. 

—

The same day that Dainsleif discovered he was wearing bracelets (from where?) and made the decision to leave them on, he had a dream. 

He stood in a bedroom. There were tall shelves stuffed with books of a thousand varieties. Brightly colored cushions lay on the floor. A vanity sported hairbrushes and perfumes. Outside, moonlight spilled across Sumeru City. Dainsleif stared. Where was this? The only things he knew of in the great tree itself were the Akademiya and the Sanctuary of Suresthana. There were houses up here, too?

“Dainsleif?”

In his confusion he’d missed the bed. A woman lay in sheets of silky green. Her brown skin was richly patterned with henna; her white hair was stark and breathtaking, puddling behind her; her nose was pretty and hooked. And her eyes. He stood rooted to the spot, so deeply lost in the emerald and verdure that he almost missed that she was naked. Just the sheet covered her legs. 

“I’m–” He blushed and averted his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

A beat. The woman finally laughed. It was a soft, breathless sound. “Why are you sorry?”

This was a dream. Right? He was remarkably clear of mind for unconsciousness. Dainsleif tested all his fingers; they moved at his command. “I’m dreaming, right?”

Shuffling. The woman was up now. She touched his arms, rubbing them. Yep, she was definitely naked. He looked up at the ceiling. “Dainsleif, what’s wrong?”

Who was this? Did he know her? Every time he groped for an answer, the thought sailed into the void. Struggling, he finally said, “I think I’m lost. I’m not sure where I am.”

Silence. There was a long, long moment. Finally she released him. Another faint sound; there was a rustle of fabric. When the mysterious lady reemerged in his vision, she was wearing a robe. It was very low cut, but at least it was something. 

“It’s alright,” she said, and took his hand. “Would you believe me if I told you you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be?”

Dainsleif looked at where their fingers entwined. It felt right, like they’d done this a thousand times before. Against one another, their skin looked like the sun and the moon–her, rich and dark and gold, him, pale and blue. He knew her. He knew her. Right? Desperate for some grounding, he said, “I know you, don’t I?”

“You do,” she reassured him, and pulled him toward the bed. It did look inviting. After five hundred years of the ceaseless hunt against the Abyss Order, Dainsleif couldn’t deny that resting alongside a beautiful woman had its appeal. She made quick work of his cloak and outermost pieces of clothing, handing them back to him to fold. It was as if she anticipated all his habits. “But it’s okay. This is how erosion works, Dainsleif. Don’t press yourself too hard to think of things you’ve lost. It won’t bring them back. You’ll just frustrate yourself.”

She must know him. He didn’t talk about the erosion to many people. At last, Dainsleif trusted himself to this dream not-quite-stranger and obediently stripped down to his underclothes. His clothes went onto a cushion on the other side of the bed. When he lay his head on the cushions, the smell of jasmine and oud faintly wafted around them. 

The woman lay down beside him, still in her robe, and stroked his cheek. Dainsleif shut his eyes and leaned into the touch. When had he last allowed someone to do this? Hundreds of years–at least, to his memory, which had holes the size of mountains. 

“I apologize,” he murmured languidly. “If you wish to be unclothed in your own bed–”

“It’s fine,” she said sweetly. “You clearly weren’t prepared to see someone you can’t remember undressed. I can wait until you’re used to me again.”

Again. That implied this dream would repeat. There were so many strange and mysterious things on Teyvat, weren’t there? Truthfully, Dainsleif could think of far worse things than a speechlessly beautiful woman doting on him like this. “I still feel the need to apologize. I’m… I’m very lost.”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” she repeated tenderly. “It’s alright, Dainsleif. Tell me all about your day.”

#A Sun Long Gone #ASLG #Genshin impact #Genshin Dainsleif #Genshin Rukkhadevata #Dainsleif x Rukkhadevata #Dainsleif fanfic #greater lord rukkhadevata #my writing #Rukkhadevata fanfic #genshin fanfic

[eulyin]

[Raison D'être]

I commissioned my friend to write about the Dendro Archons and AAAAAAAA one of the scenes just HIT me... and I can't help not drawing it... _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_

*More or less it's a canon divergence of nowadays Sumeru. They're at Akademiya!

Fic link: [AO3] (Sorry it's only in our primary language > <)

#fanfic #my drawing #genshin impact #greater lord rukkhadevata #nahida #lesser lord kusanali #dendro archon #fancomic

[annoying-probably]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Goddess of Flowers (Genshin Impact), Traveler (Genshin Impact), Deshret | Scarlet King (Genshin Impact), Rukkhadevata (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Character Analysis, Traveler Can Be Read as Kong | Aether or Ying | Lumine (Genshin Impact), Post-Chapter 3 Act V: Akasha Pulses the Kalpa Flame Rises (Genshin Impact), Slight bodily harm mentions, Canonical Character Death, Flashbacks, Canon Compliant, Nabu Malikata is a Seelie, Start is dialogue heavy Series: Part 4 of Lost Notes of Teyvat Summary:

Whilst walking through the Eternal Oasis for a moment of peace, the Traveller is pulled into a deep, memory, that isn't their own- a final message and apparition from the Goddess of Flowers. -- A Slight Nabu Malikata study, where the traveler talks with her remaining energy withing the oasis, living through some of her memories. Hopefully all within canons parameters! The start is dialogue heavy but it turns into description soon!!

#PLEASE READ I LOVE NABU MALIKATA SO MUCH #nabu malikata #king deshret #deshret #Goddess of Flowers #rukkhadevata #greater lord rukkhadevata #Genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #Fanfiction #Home genshin creations #I AM KINDA PROUD IDK #I LOVE NABU!!!!

[countessaustelle]

Existence

: In which Greater Lord Rukkhadevata fulfills her final duty as the Dendro Archon.

Nahida & Rukkhadevata (platonic)

Warnings: spoilers for Sumeru archon quest, death

Tags: light angst, an attempt at a short novelization

Existence is brittle, it is as true as it is cruel.

Its entire foundation is built on the memories of fleeting creatures, even gods are able to forget other gods.

Existence, too, is built on the marks it left on the earth—traces which hold no power against the inhumation of sand and breeze.

On the other hand, the existence of gods tend to linger longer. Their existences are bound to longevity even after death.

Marked in ancient wars, instilled in the undying.

Their spirits forever haunt in the wake of their death bed, spreading karma.

Gods are not supposed to die,

yet their existences can be as brittle as human life when its foundation is built solely on the memories of humans and dead immortals.

"How can we just forget you like this?"

Gods are not supposed to be forgotten.

"Is there really no other way? There must be something else I can do!" Nahida's composure shatters, seethed from blazing desperation.

Rukkhadevata's avatar stares with a somber look at the tearful Dendro Archon.

She closes her eyes, acknowledging how painful the ordeal must be for she who posseses an empathetic heart.

Had her former companions—the Goddess of Flowers, King Deschret, or even the Grand Priest Kusala—asked this of her, she would have never come to terms with it herself.

But the past is long gone.

Nahida's tears are futile against the walls of somebody who upheld their will until the end.

On the contrary, all it did was invigorate her remaining consciousness's convection.

To leave Sumeru in the hands of a god who feels for people, she could not have hoped for anything better.

"You are the god of wisdom, Buer. You should know that there is no other way."

"But this is just too cruel...!" Nahida chokes on her sobs. "I don't want to forget you!"

The Greater Lord's lips stretch into a cryptic smile. She does not know what she is smiling for. In pity of herself, perhaps, or happiness that the denouement is nearing.

Forget me, huh...

As the former god of wisdom, she knows all too well what that entails.

That in the next hour, stretching into the unknown expanse of Teyvat's future, no one will mourn nor celebrate her again in-between.

To never hear anyone speak of Rukkhadevata when it was she who bore witness to the Goddess of Flowers's dance,

shared drinks with The Scarlet King,

seen and loved by Kusala,

it was Rukkhadevata who fought the forbidden knowledge despite the burning inner turmoil it brought in her being.

And ultimately, it was Rukkhadevata who perished five hundred years ago in the honor and safety of her people.

To live an eventful life only to be reduced to a state of non-existence, to be devalued smaller than even a speck of dust in the wind,

To hear no one speak of Rukkhadevata as if she never lived...how deathly terrifying.

It is akin to being caged eternally in the Abyss.

Had it been any other god, they never would have done it.

But for a god who cherishes her people unconditionally, Rukkhadevata deems it a fair price.

"There is no need to feel sad, Buer. As someone who delights in wisdom, what you should be feeling at this very moment is joy because you've finally found the answer."

Rukkhadevata's avatar turns to face Irminsul. "These are the words in their entirety. The answer you've been seeking for all along."

"Let the world completely forget me."

World... Forget me...

"Let the world completely forget me." Rukkhadevata whispers for no one to hear.

She stands in the midst of barren sand, unable to discern the crimson skies from the bright green glow her palms are emanating.

"Are you listening to my final wish, Irminsul?" She chuckles though her laughter holds no mirth.

"I am already missing my friends in Sumeru so painfully."

Sumeru.

"But I am exhausted..."

My greatest hiraeth.

"And I have come to realize that my existence is one giant paradox." She continues, green glow gradually tapering, "Here I stand, fending off forbidden knowledge, yet all the same, I am the reason why it has come to existence."

For the sake of Sumeru, this sacrifice needs to be done.

"I have long been corrupted by the forbidden knowledge as well, anyway."

Hence why I humbly beg to have my being be lost, buried in no casket of time, nor existed in any samsara.

The desert sand loses the coruscated green sheen. A loud thud reverberates afterwards.

The god's chest rises and descends as how her remaining life clings from the force of death.

Her eyelids grow heavier than a millenia's worth of memories.

The Dendro Archon is dying.

"I won't... allow it... not yet... at least, let me leave this...!"

The last step of her final duty.

Before her consciousness completely slips, she shifts it to Irminsul, sprinting to climb the humongous tree upon landing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

She tears a branch from Irminsul, one so untainted and pure, and let it fall into the into the depth of soil where it will flourish overtime.

With this, she feels her lungs breathe its last breath.

"I'm sorry... It seems I can't fulfill my promise in this timeline after all. I leave the next Dendro Archon in your care in the next samsara..."

The body of the Dendro Archon begins to dissolve into tiny lime particles, translucent and fading.

This is it, my last obligation as the forgotten Dendro Archon

"Goodbye, people of Sumeru."

concluded at long last.

Goodbye, I wrote this while sleep-deprived. Gonna edit it tomorrow morning. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

#i was so excited to post this that i forgot the tags lol #written ! #greater lord rukkhadevata #nahida #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact #genshin nahida #lesser lord kusanali #genshin angst #genshin rukkhadevata #genshin impact rukkhadevata #genshin sumeru #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst

[whalesandstars]

Hello, World

Wanderer & Nahida, Platonic [Angst, Hurt/Comfort]

Summary: [Jan 3, 2553 Hello, world I am Kunikuzushi, a robot made by a researcher named Raiden Ei. I am made with the purpose of pursuing eternity by recording the history of the world.] A series of electronic journal entries telling the journey of a robot, of joy and grief, as he met different people and went from being an artificial being to becoming a human-like robot with emotions. ============================== “Rukkha, I’d like to ask, what does it mean to live?” “The answer to that is something you need to find yourself in order for it to be a ‘true answer’.” “...I don’t understand.” “You will someday.”

Jan 3, 2553

Hello, world

I am Kunikuzushi, a robot made by a researcher named Raiden Ei. I am made with the purpose of pursuing eternity by preserving the history of the world. Following the task I have been given, I will proceed in recording events in this electronic journal.

Log 1:

On December 31, 2033, a war broke out between the inhabitants of a planet called Teyvat and those from Celestia, a galaxy with the coordinates 45.9703, -118.2472.

As an AI made at the time after the war, I am not able to retrieve earlier records aside from what my creator has given me. But here is the data stored in my database:

“The old Teyvat was described as a bountiful planet with beautiful landscapes and was composed of mountains, valleys, rivers, oceans, deserts, and underground caves. Its citizens were capable of wielding seven elements namely: anemo, geo, electro, dendro, hydro, pyro, and cryo. This unique ability was utilized to maximize an individual’s potential through amplifiers called visions, which was an ancient technology produced by Celestia and regulated by the leader presiding over each element called archons.”

[Searching database for ‘Celestia’ and ‘Celestial War’]

[Match found]

[Compiling search results]

Celestia oversees the progress of nations and vision holders in Teyvat, as well as enforcing order throughout the land. Teyvat and Celestia co-existed until a dispute and the destruction of a nation called Khaenri’ah caused the Celestial War that killed millions from both sides. Celestia retreated and surrendered control over Teyvat. However, the planet sustained extensive damage and its iconic landscapes were turned into barren wastelands. Survivors grouped together and created camps from ruined cities, scavenged items for daily necessities such as food and clothes, and fought monsters that remained in the land.

Log 2:

A decade after the war, a few cities, considered as the last bastions of humanity, thrived in terms of technological advancements, and a prosperous Teyvat emerged after a decade. My creator, Raiden Ei, is from a nation named Inazuma. She is a descendant of an archon and well-known researcher who created me in the image of her sister who died saving her from a monster ambush. My creator aimed to preserve her memories of her and of the past, creating an ‘eternity’ by recording history.

On the third of January 2553, Raiden Ei completed her 99th prototype, a robot which she named Kunikuzushi.

September 16, 2554

Log 1:

Raiden Ei passed away peacefully in her sleep. I am incapable of stating the cause of her death for she told me not to record it, but she did let me save this message in my memory:

“Go out and see the world with your eyes, record your own story, and live our life how you want it to be.”

As per her request, I buried my creator’s remains beside the Great Sakura Tree, where her sister also laid. As I stared at the two graves next to each other, I experienced a minor malfunction. There was something wet on my face and my optical units went blurry as I walked away from the tree.

September 17, 2554

I have broken down my creator’s final words in three primary tasks and aligned them to my original purpose.

Task 1: Wander around the world

Task 2: Record events in an electronic journal

Task 3: Live

The third task remains obscure. As an artificial intelligence, I am not alive and incapable of living. Sub-task has been created for this, which is to ‘understand what living means’.

To fulfill all these, I left the Shakkei research facility and commenced my goal of traveling around the world starting by going to the areas beyond Inazuma City.

September 20, 2554

I have arrived in an island named Tatarasuna where the supplies of Crystal Marrows, a valuable source of energy for Inazuma, are mined. This is also where most weapons are forged through the knowledge of the last surviving blacksmiths who aim to preserve their legacy by teaching youths about the craft.

>>Accessing system command log

>> Subtasks created

Task 1: Observe the humans of Tatarasuna and gather intel on how they live

Progress: 0%

Task 2: Learn blacksmithing

Progress 0%

The humans welcomed me without noticing that I am a robot. My creator has taught me basic human functions I needed to know so I am able to blend well with the people in that island. According to my processor’s calculations, the probability of me progressing with my third primary task will increase if I stayed here, so I accepted the humans’ offer for accommodation.

October 20, 2554

Log 1:

[Generating monthly report…]

[Running task check…]

[2 active subtasks found]

       > Task 1: 23% completed

        > Task 2: 75% completed

One month has passed. I am still living with the humans of Tatarasuna. I have stored information about the citizens: their name, eye and hair color, facial features, height, occupation, and personality. Those who have shared their goals have also been recorded.

[Katsuragi: To forge a blade that will surpass the quality of his grandfather’s work

Nagamasa: To see a peaceful and prosperous Tatarasuna, to clear the reputation of his adoptive mother.

Niwa: to continue Isshin Art and be a good father.

A sick child with no name: to be healthier and explore the world.]

Log 2:

Today, I have forged my very first blade. I expressed my inability to create a perfect blade (due to insufficient data) but Niwa insisted that it does not have to be perfect. Listing it down as a secondary command, I did the task and mimicked the simple knife on a nearby shelf; a plain blade attached to a wooden handle. I showed it to Niwa, who smiled and ruffled my synthetic hair while commending my work. According to my database, he seems to be displaying a human emotion called happiness. He also explicitly said that he is proud of me.

I do not understand the implications of his words but replied with “thank you” as per protocol whenever I received a positive feedback. A malfunction occurred again. My lips smiled without direct command from my processor. I ran a diagnostic but no error has been detected.

November 30, 2554

The sick child kept following me. He greets me in the morning and walks with me as I picked lavender melons for him and the pregnant wife of Niwa. He also asked me to teach him how to read and write while we ate lunch on a field 75 steps away from the workshop.

He is full of energy despite having an illness. He will flash a toothy grin at me whenever he greets me in front of my small house. He looked confused when I used a research analysis as an example for our reading sessions and seemed to be happy after I changed my lesson materials into children’s stories. He also jumped up and down while smiling once I gave him a handmade doll, which I asked one of the villagers to teach me how to craft. Although he easily gets tired, he still insists on catching crystalflies with me before the sun sets.

December 30, 2554

The child moved into my house. He also started calling me brother and us as family. I said that we cannot be brothers for we are not related but he explained that you do not have to be biologically connected to be a family and that all that matters is that you love and care for each other. Such words are foreign concept to me so I asked him what love and care meant. He replied that it is when you feel comfortable with them and that you do not want to see them sad. You always want them to be happy.

>>System command to compare parameters with the received information

>>Checking…

[Parameters matched]

I told him he is family to me too.

The people of Tatarasuna as well.

March 12, 2555

The boy died. I have tried searching for a cure but his health deteriorated too fast during the winter season.

Earlier today, I was picking lavender melons and some herbs to try and create a nutritious soup but when I came back to our house, I found him on the floor. I shook him to wake him up but he did not. It was the same with his creator. He has no pulse. He was not breathing. I accessed the first aid module in me and tried reviving him but soon, people came through the door I forgot to close and told me to stop. He was gone, they said. They were right.

While they were taking him away, I checked my subtasks. One of them stood out.

Task: Watch the sakura trees bloom this coming spring with the boy

I looked at the budding flowers on the branches outside the window as the task dissolved away.

March 19, 2555

7 days have passed since the boy died. I now stand in front of his grave, under the shade of a sakura tree whose flowers are just days away from blooming, holding a small bouquet of flowers the same way I did after my mother creator died. I placed the flowers on the tombstone and walked away.

I went through my usual routine before the boy lived with me, which involves waking up from rest mode, picking fruits, helping with forging, and mining Crystal Marrows. From my memory logs, I can confirm that I am doing the right tasks and yet people kept asking me how I felt or if I needed a break. This confused me. First, I have no need to take breaks because my synthetic body gives me more stamina compared to living beings. Second, I am not capable of feeling because I am not human.

Yes…I am not supposed to feel anything.

But why is there a weird sensation in his chest and a sting in his optical units?

I logged the times this occurred and based on my records, this happens when I wake up in the morning, when I pass by the places I usually go to with the boy, when I visit his grave, and before I sleep at night. I ran diagnostics daily but no anomaly has been detected. Maybe my diagnostic tool is the one having an error…

…because how cannot detect the cause of this ache and the excess moisture on my eyes.

June 6, 2555

[Request for subtasks log]

[Generating…]

Task 1: Observe the humans of Tatarasuna and gather intel on how they live

             Progress: 100%

Task 2: Learn blacksmithing

             Progress: 100%

I have completed my subtasks in this island despite the persistence of the anomaly in me.

The people of Tatarasuna lived a simple life yet they looked happy. Concluding from the information I have gathered, it seems that “living” involves two important factors.

You need to have a family or someone you care about.

You do not need to have a lot of mora or material possessions but you need to find something that makes you happy.

All these are abstract and subjective things I have yet to fully understand.

>>Analyzing options to further investigate these concepts…

>> Analysis done.

Results:

          Option 1: Continue observing the people of Tatarasuna

          Option 2: Search other places for cross analysis of information

>>Selecting Option 2

>>Prioritization set to Option 2

This will align with my main task of wandering around the world and recording events. My mother once said that different cities and nations have different cultures and values. If I visit other places, I will be able to study other kinds of humans and their way of life.

June 7, 2555

I told Niwa and the others about my plan to leave Tatarasuna and travel around the world. They expressed concern over my wellbeing but eventually agreed. They spoke about missing me and asked to stay for a week before I depart for my next destination.

Strange. The thought of leaving them gave me a weird sensation.

June 13, 2555

One day before I am scheduled to leave Tatarasuna. It is sunny as usual and I am able to continue my daily routine. I was in the middle of completing a task of delivering newly made clothes to the outskirts of the village when an explosion happened on the other side of the mountain.

August 19, 2555

I was not able to leave Tatarasuna.

Another war broke out.

An organization, The Fatui, who turned out to be allied with Celestia commenced a plan to recapture Teyvat and take revenge for what happened in the Celestial War. Reorganizing my tasks and prioritization, I stayed in Tatarasuna to help Nagamasa come up with a plan to defend the island and its people. Combat functions were not specifically installed in me but I was able to learn through the soldiers who aided the island and from the retired ones, as well as the books I read before in my mother’s library. I helped in forging blades when the situation was calmer and made a weapon for myself; a sharper and more lethal version of the one I used for my sword dance with Niwa.

We were able to stave off the invaders and defeat the monsters who attacked us.

November 11, 2555

We were ambushed in the middle of the night. A large troop came and was led by a Fatui harbinger; a man with blue hair whose face was covered by a mask and wields a newer version of a vision, a delusion. The dead body of the front line’s defense general, Nagamasa. Niwa instructed me to save as many people as I could but before I could run to follow his command, the harbinger found us. We were overpowered.

I am the only one left standing after Niwa, who was severely injured, is thrown to the side by the harbinger. The damage I sustained during the battle exposed my broken components, revealing that I am not human.

Something ached in my chest again after realizing that my lie has been exposed.

I do not want Niwa to hate me.

Niwa is surprised but he told me that he still views me as family despite me being not human and not telling the truth to him.

I smiled.

The harbinger just laughed at us and mocked us for playing house with a mere object.

Was that what I simply am?

An object?

Yes, I am an object but I will fulfill the tasks I was given promise I made.

>>Creating urgent tasks

>>Tasks created manually

     Task 1: Defend Tatarasuna

     Task 2: Protect my family

I fought with the harbinger despite not being a combat-oriented unit. I calculated my every move and searched for a way to outwit the enemy but the odds of winning was only 0.03%. By the time dawn was approaching, a red warning was already flashing at the side of my vision.

WARNING: COMPONENTS COMPROMISED

DAMAGE SUSTAINED: 85%

I can barely move and static is beginning to fill my vision as my knees fall to the ground, the purple liquid equivalent to a human’s blood dripping down my exposed and severed wires and from my head down to my eyes, obscuring the warning on my visuals. I wiped the dampness away and looked up to see the harbinger lunge at me…

…only for Niwa to shield me from the blow.

Purple and red mixed together.

Genuine and synthetic eyes met.

“Why?” I asked.

“You’re human. You’re part of our family. Remember that.”

He pushed me down a low cliff, sending me falling to the dark sea.

The last thing I saw is the harbinger piercing Niwa’s chest and Tatarasuna burning to the ground before I plunged into the cold water of the Inazuman sea.

WARNING

SYSTEM ERROR

DAMAGE CRITICAL

TRYING TO REBOOT…

REBOOTING FAILED.

ENTERING FORCED SLEEP MODE–

?? ???, ???

SYSTEM REPAIR INITIATED

?? ???, ???

VITAL COMPONENTS REPAIRED

?? ???, ???

REPAIR COMPLETE

SYSTEM FILES RECOVERED

REBOOT COMMAND STARTED

SYSTEM CHECK…

              > Processor: OK

              > Motor Function: OK

              > Memory Logs: OK

              > ???: OK

READY FOR REBOOT

REBOOTING…

Hello, world

I am Kunikuzushi, a robot made by a researcher named Raiden Ei. I am made with the purpose of pursuing eternity by preserving the history of the world.

Task logs detected:

Ongoing tasks:

> Raiden Ei’s wish:

          Task 1: Wander around the world

          Task 2: Record each moment and events on an electric journal

          Task 3: Live

Other tasks:

          > [Deleted] Task: Watch the sakura trees bloom this coming spring with the boy

          > [Failed] Defend Tatarasuna and protect my family

I opened my eyes expecting to see a village in flames but instead, what I can see is a small room filled with soft green light.

> Searching database for location matches…

No result found

I sat up from the soft mattress beneath me, making the white blanket fall down to my lap. I blinked before I let my optical units scan my fingers, hands, arms, and legs, searching for any trace of damage but found none except for the faint scars that formed on my artificial skin. Looking around the place, I recognized some common items humans usually use such as a table, closet, cup, and a few traditional paper books. Just when I was about to get up to inspect more of my surroundings, the door swung open.

A woman clothed in a long white dress appeared from the doorway, her green eyes, which matched the highlights on her hair that runs up to the back of her knees, are fixed on me. She smiled at me. She seems happy to see me. She said that she has been waiting a long time for me to wake up after she rescued me from the shore and repaired me.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

September 14, 2558

I have been asleep for 3 years after I fell from the cliff. The war has ended and although the connection from Celestia has been permanently severed, 80% of Teyvat has been destroyed.

The woman’s name is Rukkhadevata but we agreed that I will call her Rukkha and she will address me as Kuni.

Profile information:

Name: Rukkhadevata

Nation: Sumeru

Age: 200

Bio: (more information needed)

[Transcript audio record]

“I’m an archon guarding Sumeru…or what’s left of it. Do you know what an archon is?”

“According to my database, archons are revered to by the Old Teyvat as gods. They are capable of wielding elements and have been crucial to the survival of humanity during the first war. However, all of them died during the Celestial War.”

“Yet here I am, claiming to be one.” A giggle, “I can’t blame you for looking so surprised.” “Suprised? As an artificial being, I am not capable of such emotions.”

“And yet you feel. I saw your memory logs. Sorry for viewing them without permission. I need to check them to see if there is anything left damaged.”

“No need for an apology. Those files are not strictly confidential. Going back to what you said earlier, I would like to inquire more about it.”

“Sure. Let me ask you a question first. If given the circumstance that a casualty is unavoidable, if you have to pick between a single sickly old person and a group of young adults, who would you pick to save and why?”

“Considering life expectancy and being capable of helping in the restoration of Teyvat, it will be more beneficial to save the young adults.”

“I see. How about between the sickly child who lived with you and a group of healthy knights?”

“I…”

“You hesitated. By logical calculations, it will be wise to save the knights but you care about the boy more than a bunch of strangers. Care is a mix of love for a person and the fear of losing them. Both are emotions, and to have emotions is to be human.”

“But I cannot be a human. I am not an organic being.”

“True. You have wires instead of veins and you bleed purple instead of red. By physical attributes, you can never be classified as a human. But being a human is not having flesh and bone alone. To be human is to have humanity and that means having empathy and compassion. Itis to smile when you see the people you care about happy and in grieving when they die. The ache you felt when the boy died, that is grief.”

“...I see.”

“Kuni?”

“Yes?”

“You may not have a heart that beats but you have a soul that’s capable of feeling.”

September 15, 2558

Rukkha told me how she came to be. She was a genuine archon who was born when her predecessor, the original deity of Sumeru, had left a piece of her soul before she sacrificed herself for her people and died. However, the reincarnation created a new and separate entity and her abilities were reduced to only being able to make flowers bloom. She was locked away as a source of research, which was why it was presumed that all archons had perished, and was only freed during the eruption of the second war, the one started by the Fatui, after her nation was left ruined.

Today, Rukkha led me in front of an enormous tree named Irminsul and brought me inside its core, which was another tree but with blue inorganic-looking branches. She told me that it records the history of Teyvat. All information about people, monsters, and even robots, as well as historic events were all compiled in its leaves. But right now, after the last war that left Teyvat in ruins once more, all the tree’s leaves where all recordings were stored, had been lost. I can supply a tiny portion of my own records but we will need more to fully restore it.

[Transcript audio]

“That’s why I’ve been waiting for you, Kuni. When I was imprisoned, they asked me to connect with Irminsul. I wasn’t strong enough to establish a strong and long connection at that time but I managed to read one leaf. I saw the one capable of working with me in restoring the lost records…and someone who will be my friend. You.”

December 28, 2558

We left on a journey to restore Irminsul. Teyvat has been severely damaged, almost the same way described in my database during the aftermath of the first war, leaving us traveling through fallen cities and a handful of humans. With Rukkha’s ability combined with mine, we’re able to restore the projections of memories from different locations and we experienced them secondhand.

Jan 3, 2558

Rukkha made a small cake made with nuts as a birthday present for me. We ate it as she talked about the stars, seas, and mountains with excitement, which I think is the reason why the pastry tasted better.

After all, even the simplest of food can taste like luxury when with a friend.

June 10, 2558

The story of humans is a cycle of love and loss, of happiness and sorrow, of death and birth. As we explored all around Teyvat collecting memories, as Rukkha told me and showed me a wide range of emotions, I realized that life is bittersweet yet that made it beautiful. Even though flowers sprout in spring and fully bloom in summer then wilt in autumn and wither by winter, new ones are born in the next cycle of spring. Even though the sky lights up and sunrise becomes bright at noon, dims in the afternoon, and goes dark at night, it is still a masterpiece because it is able to paint different colors. Even though the lives of humans are fragile and are bound to end, just like how Rukkha viewed it, I find it beautiful.

[Transcription audio]

“Rukkha, I’d like to ask, what does it mean to live?”

“The answer to that is something you need to find yourself in order for it to be a ‘true answer’.”

“...I don’t understand.”

“You will someday.”

July 9, 2558

I should have noticed it sooner. When she mentioned that she saw a glimpse of me from the future, I should have realized it. Irminsul was only supposed to be recording the past and the present, not the future.

She has accessed the Forbidden Knowledge.

Apparently, the sages of Sumeru forced her to unlock pieces of information related to Forbidden Knowledge and now, she is suffering for things she never wanted. I feel agony. I feel rage towards those scholars who treated her like a tool and a stepping stone for their vain pursuit of knowledge.

It’s unfair. All she wants is to freely explore the world beyond her prison and to live like a normal human, yet she has been robbed of it. Now, she is dying because of Eleazar, which has no cure. She is kind, too kind. What has she done to deserve this kind of fate? It’s unfair.

I…I’m afraid. I don’t want her to die. I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want to grieve again for another family that I found.

Please…not again.

August 19, 2558

She smiles. Even as the black scales are eating away her body, even as the pain tormented her while I carried her on my back during our journey, she smiled.

October 27, 2558

She still smiles. As I cradled her in my arms in front of Irminsul, she was still smiling the same way she did when I first met her, when she tasted lavender melon, when she ran across a field chasing after a butterfly, and as she played on the water by the shore. Even though my chest feels like it’s being torn to shreds and tears fall from my eyes like a waterfall flowing towards the sea, she smiles. The corner of her lips are curled upward as she told me how human I’ve become and how happy she is to have met me; her companion in her journey to explore the world, a friend, a family.

She still smiles as she hands me one last gift before her eyes slid close.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around her.

May 17, 2568

Ten years have passed since Rukkha died. The ache was still there and I still see the ghosts of her smile and the journey we had as I continued my wandering across the world with her last gift tucked in my coat’s pocket.

Teyvat has rebuilt itself from the ashes of war even though it was still far from its former glory. People were starting to move on with their lives and I, too, had begun walking forward from grief and was currently traveling as a wandering historian who was sharing and recording the events in this planet while guarding Irminsul.

Life was not perfect, but it was better.

October 27, 2568

Rukkha’s last gift is a seed. Over time, it became a bud, growing little by little each day, until finally turned into a little twig. The tiny branch is now glowing and I am sitting beside it, waiting like it is an egg about to hatch.

What does it mean to live?

My mother wanted me to discover that.

I once asked Rukkha that question.

Now I understand what she meant by needing to find my own answer for it to become a true answer.

For a robot, to live is an impossible notion.

For a synthetic but human-like being, it is to love despite the inevitable loss. It is to admire the stars even though they will all disappear when morning comes. It is to welcome the warmth of having a family even though the fire will be extinguished by the cold snow of winter. It is to travel and see the world, to know the experiences and emotions that make humans laugh and cry, to treasure every moment, and to weave the story of others and yours into a colorful tapestry.

To live is to find your own answer,

And just like how the people of Tatarasuna and Rukkha guided him, he would do the same for this new life that was born.

“A name is life’s first gift and I’ll give it to you. From now on, your name will be Nahida.”

Jan 3, 2569

Hello, world

I am Kunikuzushi, a human-like robot with emotions, ready to record a new era with this little hand holding mine.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin wanderer #wanderer #nahida #genshin nahida #greater lord rukkhadevata #genshin rukkhadevata #rukkhadevata #tatarasuna #niwa #niwa hisahide #genshin fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #platonic #angst #hurt/comfort #journal entry #diary entry #genshin angst #genshin impact fanfic

[nekoprankster218]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Nahida (Genshin Impact), Rukkhadevata (Genshin Impact), Traveler (Genshin Impact), Paimon (Genshin Impact), Azar (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: One Shot, Out of Character, Recovered Memories, Sumeru (Genshin Impact), Chapter 3: Sumeru (Genshin Impact), Written Before 3.2 Update (Genshin Impact), Archon Quest Chapter III Spoilers, Not Beta Read, vent fic, Fan theories, (sort of? see first author's note for details), Ambiguous Character Death, (as in even idk if I killed them off or not), Traveler Can Be Read as Kong | Aether or Ying | Lumine (Genshin Impact), They/Them Pronouns for Traveler (Genshin Impact), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Traveler (Genshin Impact), Unspecified Gender Traveler (Genshin Impact), Other Characters Not Mentionined in Tags Series: Part 22 of Popular Fanfiction Tropes the Series (based on the ColeyDoesThings videos), Part 42 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

The two Fatui Harbingers had already been dealt with. The project of a man-made god hd been thwarted. The first signs of healing had been restored to Irminsul, once the Traveler figured out what needed to be done. All that was left was freeing the Dendro Archon and ending the sages' reign.

The Dendro Archon that had appeared before the people of Sumeru, though, was not the one anyone was expecting.

(Fulfills "OOC" trope of the series.)

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #nahida #lesser lord kusanali #greater lord rukkhadevata #sumeru #archon quest chapter III #ao3 #archive of our own #ao3 link #my writing #my fic #my fics #my post #my posts

[ailurophilea-angel]

i have an au idea. please hear me out…

(modern-ish au) a deceased rukkhadevata leaves nahida to be watched over by her younger brother, alhaitham. after dying two years after having nahida, alhaitham is legally obligated to take care of her as he’s the last living relative she has. so he lwk adopts her and goes from thinking of her as his niece to as his daughter.

by the time she’s in pre school, his old roommate reaches out to him. kaveh and alhaitham hadn’t spoken to one another for about 5 years at that point, and kaveh hadn’t even known of nahida’s existence when he told alhaitham abt how he had gone into a debt and lost his home, job, and money- struggled to feed both him and his cat, mehrak, and was desperate for some help.

alhaitham, still obviously harboring a deep affection for kaveh, allowing him to take his own room while he sleeps on the divan each night. he takes care of kaveh, nahida and mehrak and they all fall into a small routine as a family

i want to draw this. write a full fanfic. idfk. i js needed others to hear my idea

#genshin impact #genshin #ramble #au #modern au #au idea #au info #I LOVE KAVEHTHAM #kavetham #kavehtham #kaveh #alhaitham #i realllllyyyyy like dilf alhaitham im pushing an agenda #mehrak

[atierrorian]

Hey could you do protective yandere! Tighnari with gentle reader?

Hope you're well :)

Aw of course I can! And I hope your doing well as well! And also I'm going to be making the reader Gender neutral since you didn't exactly specify what gender the reader would be so I hope that's okay with you! Um also forgive me if Tighnari is like ooc (out of character) Because we don't know much about him (Ps I already did his story quest and the Archon quest so I'm gonna try my best lmao)

Just as he liked it.

I loved being a forest Ranger since because it gave me more freedom. I used to be a student at the Akademiya and that's where I met Tighnari before, But the Akademiya was too well how should I put it... Too overbearing.. They did not see Kusanali as their god but a replacement and a nuisance, She's a confirmation of The greater lord rukkhadevata's death to them. I'ved always believe that Lesser lord kusanali could be a great Archon if they just gave her a chance. "[Name]!" I heard someone yell my name out loud in the forest. I turned around and saw that it was Master Tighnari, Or just Tighnari. "Oh hello Nari, What do you need?" I asked since I was just at a nearby lake and there isn't much danger here so it was okay for me to take a break here. "What are you doing here? I've been trying to look all over for you!" Tighnari said slightly whining while his ears slightly lowered down and his tail as well. "Huh? Oh is my break already over? I'm very Sorry Nari I didn't noticed the time.." I said as I sat up from where I sat before and hugged Tighnari. Tighnari loved whenever [Name] hugged him, It just makes him feel closer to them and makes him more dominating over them... Tighnari was slightly blushing and hugged [Name] back while his Tail wagged. "Now come on Nari! Let's go back where Collei and the others are!" [Name] said and held Tighnari's hand softly and led them back to Gandharva Ville. They came back from the lake and [Name] decided to brush Tighnari's tail. [Name] and Tighnari were cuddling each other when [Name] decided to get up but couldn't because Tighnari's grip on them were too tight for there liking. "Um Nari can you please let me go? I wanna brush your tail pretty please?" [Name] said trying to convince Tighnari to let them go so they can brush his Tail, It's so fluffy they couldn't help it. "Fine.." Tighnari said and decided to let [Name] go. [Name] Grabbed a brush and Tighnari sat up so that [Name] could brush Tighnari's tail more easily. [Name] then began to Brush it gently and softly while [Name] was humming something Tighnari couldn't help but blush. On occasion [Name] Would touch his fluffy tail and tighnari would melt. But what's even better when is when [Name] Touches his Ears and does scratches on them. Tighnari couldn't help but be protective of his lover, it was part of his instinct after all. Wherever [Name] would go Tighnari would follow them secretly. And of course [Name] wouldn't even knew that Tighnari has been following them secretly wherever they went. [Name] was always a gentle and a sweet person, She would help people in need if they needed it. While Tighnari..Well.. He appreciates that his S/O is kind sure but they could get taken advantage off! Or worse they could get hurt if they keep being gentle. So that's why in the end he locked them up. Tighnari couldn't bare to think any longer if his Mate got hurt, even if it was only a scratch. So that's why he locked them up. And it seems [Name] is really compliant with it.. Just as he liked it.

Not much of a yandere there I can say but I tried. Maybe I'll do another Yandere Tighnari fanfic later once I got the motivations. Anyways uh really hoped you enjoyed this! Ps I finally managed to get this out of my drafts!

#atier's works✎ #Yandere Tighnari #yandere Tighnari x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Genshin x reader #genshin impact

[redacted-ghost]

i’m calling “the reader” red

this idea was based on hiraya’s fanfic with ragbros x platonic!youngest sibling

imagine for me:

Red is too young to understand why they and Kaeya were left to be found by Crepus- but it happens and Red grows up without the fear of their first family

On that fateful day, Kaeya and Diluc fight each other, gain their visions- Red is stuck on the sidelines, crying out for them to stop, confused- unable to do anything but watch as they’re too young and weak to truly stop their fight. When the two stop, all they can do is watch as Diluc walks away, leaving Kaeya bleeding and cold with his new vision. Red crosses the once battlefield to their brother and asked what that was about- why it happened, just give them something

“I… we… don’t belong here” is all he says, before leaving his sibling, confused and sobbing.

On the dirt path, Red gains their vision, anemo, to show off the loss of their entire family in less than one day

When Red returned to their once home, they find it being vacated, and with no other choice given, Red runs.

They run and run and run until their legs give way underneath them; they find themselves at a statue of Kusanali… or Rukkhadevata. And that’s were they slept on their first night alone, underneath the God of Wisdom’s stare.

Red wakes up to see a newly scholar approaching them- he introduces himself as Tighnari, and offers a place to stay in return for help from Red. All they needed to do was basically become his apprentice, help with his botany and research and rent would be free.

However after years of befriending one another, it became less of an exchange, and just became life between the two. Included in their make-shift family came Cyno and Collei.

Maybe during a soon-to-be festival the four of them decide to go to Mondstadt, unknowingly bringing the last link to a lost family back into the city of freedom

#theghost talk show #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin tighnari #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #ragbros #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin cyno #genshin collei #genshin x male reader #genshin x female reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin fanfic idea

[poorxsouls]

THE GAME OF LIFE

art by MiotaOwO on YouTube and Nahida/rukkhadevata/Kusanali is owned by HV/Genshin/Mhiyo

—————————

Based off Nova’s writing/fanfic and Nahida-writes’s writing/fanfic but different

( Nova is @noverenia and Nahida-writes is @nahida-writes, they both inspired this x reader hc)

Tw:demon,genshin sumeru character because what the fuck,Dottore/Zandik,academia being shitty,few sumeru spoliers,being mean,being fucked up,tsunderes??,semi spoliers but people already knew about Nahida/kusanali and Rukkhadevata

Cw: Nahida/rukkhadevata/Kusanali,Buer,Dori, Dottore/Zandik,Nilou,Candace(Kandake),Layla,Faruzan,Dehya,Wanderer/Scaramouche/Kuni(??)Cyno,Tighnari,Collie,Al-haitham

Nahida/Kusanali/rukkhadevata,Dori and are seen as platonic

Nahida/Kusanali , rukkhadevata , and Buer are all technically different

because Nahida/Kusanali is child version of rukkhadevata,rukkhadevata is adult version of Nahida and Buer is the demon version of them.

Dottore , Zandik are technically different

Because of the difference in time period because Zandik was his name in the academia.

Part 1 - Sumeru cast

(4 lives are used up)

—————————

Day 1 ; sumeru cast!

(≧◡≦) ♡

First life - “My first life was so boring just forget mentioned it”

or

Fourth life - “In my fourth, I played piano but just didn’t have the eyes to read the notes”

Their so painfully sweet to you,not trying to be mean,not trying to yell,their like candy and IM AT MY LIMIT…but I guess it’s nice that they love you and treat you with respect.

Characters that fit this ;

Female —> NILOU,Candace(Kandake),Nahida/Kusanali/rukkhadevata(platonic),Layla,Collei.

Male —> KAVEN,Cyno,Alhaitham,Tighnari.

♡ (ง'̀-'́)ง

Second life - “And my second seemed to let me do all of the things my first life didn’t”

or

Third life - “Third life was a hateful man all poison to the bone”

Their like the 1rst life but somehow better!like their mean but their also nice to you,but anyways even though their rude to you they do mean the best they just don’t know basic feelings.

Characters that fit this ;

Female —>FARUZAN,Dehya,Buer(platonic),Dori(platonic).

Male —> AL-HAITHAM,Wanderer/Scaramouche/Kuni(??),Cyno,Tighnari,Dottore/Zandik.

—————————

Day 1 ; Sumeru cast!

Completed Nick’s Quest!

Your reward? ; Curshed hatsune miku dolls/figures!

Next up?

All so a mix of Inazuma,liyue,Mondstadt

What next lives are up?

Fifth life(5),Seventh life(7),Eight life(8)

nine life(9),tenth life(10),eleven life(11)

What will be posted next?

How to deal with a Dendro achron;

Nahida,rukkhadevata,and Buer headcannons

#nahida x reader #kusanali x reader #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #nilou x reader #candace x reader #layla x reader #faruzan x reader #dehya x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact #x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin x y/n #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact sumeru x reader #genshin impact x reader #sumeru x reader #platonic #romantic #genshin impact sumeru headcannons #sumeru #genshin fluff #SoundCloud

[winterlogysblog]

Kaeya Alberich (Masterlist)

Under the Kaeya Lore (On Crack) Series in AO3

Disclaimer: My fics may or may not make you cry PS. Will contain a shit ton of Ragbros content

With Betrayal Comes Punishment - My First Genshin Fanfic Set after the events of 3.5 Caribert Quest, did I kill Kaeya in this? Who knows ehe~

A chance to let it all out - Pierro visits Mondstadt to have a little chat with Kaeya (don't worry Pierro is good in this)

Final Farewell - Kaeya dies (that's it ehe~) (Roughly based on Halfdan's death scene and Rukkhadevata's farewell to Nahida scene)

For you are a child of Mondstadt - Varka being a parental figure to Kaeya. Set after the fight of April 30th

Where is the Captain? - (multichapter) (ongoing) Kaeya went missing and is kidnapped by the Abyss order

We Want Our Captains Back - The Cavalry came back to Mondstadt

Wine and Memories - Kaeya celebrates Weinlesefest with the people he loves (Post Ragbros Reconciliation)

How Can I? - (multichapter) (ongoing) Kaeya is stuck in a dream and Diluc is there is bring him back to reality

More coming soon...

#genshin #genshin impact #kaeya #kaeya alberich #fanfic masterlist #no thoughts head empty #just kaeya #all i can think about is kaeya #there will be more angst #trust #extremely platonic #i can't believe i have to actually tag it in #kaeluc dni #you are not welcome here or anywhere near my blog #ragbros #ragnvindr brothers #ragbros supremacy

[ikesenhell]

A Sun Long Gone, Chapter Five

You can find all masterlists at the top of my page (AO3, Genshin Impact, Ikemen Sengoku, and Ikemen Vampire). NOTES: This work is 18+. Highly suggestive content (naked person, no explicit sex, just vague making out). A fade to black lmao. Uhhh unwarranted angst, arriving on heelies to sucker punch you?

I SWEAR YALL ARE GETTING YOUR NSFW CHAPTER AFTER THIS ONE. DON'T WORRY.

---

The next few nights brought a change in routine for Dainsleif. It had been too long since any of the Khaenri’ahn guard were properly trained; being so far away from their usual grounds had ensured that. While every morning was spent running the usual drills, Lord Alberich suddenly took a keen interest in observing additional sparring three nights in a row. 

Out loud, Dainsleif said nothing. This was his job. He was used to having abrupt changes in schedule; adding new meetings about the latest military technology, new tactics, intelligence reports at odd hours. It wouldn’t even be the first time a higher up had decided on an inspection.

But Dainsleif understood what was actually happening. Lord Alberich was clearly uncomfortable with Rukkhadevata’s proximity. That much made sense. After all, Dainsleif had once believed she had an ulterior motive for taking an interest in him (Khaenri’ah’s secrets were widely and expensively sought). So, yes , Dainsleif didn’t question why his nights were no longer free. 

(Admittedly, he was still very annoyed.)

The Eremites and Forest Rangers supplied training grounds. Rukkhadevata also stopped by on the second night, inquiring if they needed any other supplies (they didn’t). Dainsleif tried not to draw any more attention to the two of them. He kept his eyes straight ahead, inspecting the sparring soldiers. He could feel Lord Alberich’s gaze burning into the back of his skull the whole time. 

Every night when he went to bed, Dainsleif would try and resign himself to sleep. He didn’t dream much in Sumeru. No. Instead, he would envision the last time he got to kiss Rukkhadevata. Damn Alberich. Damn responsibilities. The sweet aroma of oud and Jasmine was all but faded from his memory and mouth. Would he ever get another opportunity?

The day after the third night of this, Rukkhadevata rose from a meeting in the Akademiya and stretched. Her hair was hung with tiny gold threads and peppered with embroidered Sumeru roses. Yes, Dainsleif was used to his job. Yes, he was accustomed to the abrupt change in shifts. He’d still laid eyes on her this morning (in all her pretty, sun-kissed glory) and wanted to smack Lord Alberich up the head for keeping him from her. 

“Lord Alberich?” She said.

“Rukkhadevata,” the man replied. It was lunchtime. His face showed it. Today’s meeting was especially irritating in the details. 

“I presume you’ll be dining with the sages again? I don’t suppose you’re willing to lend me your Twilight Sword, would you? I had plans to meet with Forest Ranger Takama and I may need an extra pair of hands should she pass along some medicinal herbs for your men.”

What was this about? He hadn’t requested any such thing. True, his men always needed things for various scrapes and ailments, but he’d never passed along a request for it. Dainsleif watched the other man’s mouth twitch. Lord Alberich seemed to think the same thing. 

“I could lend you another soldier.”

That was bait. Rukkhadevata didn’t take it. She just smiled, tucking a pen behind her ear. “I’m happy to accept whoever you send me. I just need someone who has a full understanding of all the needs you might have at this time.”

That could only be him. No one else knew or anticipated his soldier’s needs. Clearly Lord Alberich realized this. He cast a leery gaze at Dainsleif. 

“Would you be free, Sir Dainsleif?” 

Dainsleif pretended to pause, replying, “I would be able to answer any questions the forest rangers might have.”

“Then go. Obviously, attend to Lord Rukkhadevata as you would me.”

Dainsleif ground down the urge to reply, ‘ I promise I attend to you two much differently’ . Instead, he opted to nod, provide a salute, rise, and follow Rukkhadevata out into the hallway. 

It was an extra busy day in the Akademiya. Scholars and scribes raced in and out of the Grand Sage’s office, armloads of books and parcels clutched in tired fists. The sun was bright and warm. Dainsleif realized he was getting more used to it with every passing day. They wound down the wide avenues and–once well caught up to her and far enough from the doors–he brushed his mouth against her ear. 

“You made that up,” he whispered. 

Rukkhadevata cast her green eyes back at him, a smile glittering there. “Oh?”

“None of us asked for medical supplies. If you wanted to provide them, you could’ve sent one of your doctors from the Bimarstaan.”

She turned her head back toward the road. Even from the side, he could see the curve of a mischievous smirk. “And?”

“You knew Lord Alberich was suddenly keeping me well in his sight and would also know the same.”

The rich scent of spices caught on the wind. Children dashed past them, laughing and tossing a ball. As natural as the sky, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, using the lurch in street traffic to cover for it. “Are you aware you’re being monitored at night?”

“I assumed as much. I didn’t know you were also monitoring us.”

“Not exactly. The Eremites handle any security concerns. That isn’t relayed to me, but to the Akademiya, and your being monitored wouldn’t make their list.”

“Then who told you?”

“The Aranara.”

He’d grown used to much of Sumeru at this point. Dainsleif hesitated at this word. “The what now?”

Rukkhadevata paused for a moment. “They’re a small creature; very childlike. They like to chatter about all sorts of things they see.” “I have follow up questions.”

“Ask them.”

“Have I met one?”

“No. Children tend to be the only ones that do.”

A thousand other questions cropped up. Dainsleif shunted them to the side. Teyvat was a wild and wonderful place indeed. “Alright. Why did they feel this was of note to you?”

Once more, she paused. This time she blushed. “I might’ve mentioned you to them at one point. Apparently, one of them took it upon themselves to try and make sure you were safe. He felt the need to tell me you were being watched.”

Despite himself, Dainsleif laughed. She blinked. “Nothing,” he chuckled. “I’m reminded of fairytales we have in Khaenri’ah. They’re about princesses who talk to animal helpers.”

How had he gone three days without that smile? She tucked her pretty hooked nose into her hair, embarrassed, and he wanted to fist fight Lord Alberich in the Grand Bazaar. “Anyway, obviously this is my fault, and for that, I’m sorry. We haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“No. That much is true. I take it you have some kind of a plan to take the heat off?”

“Yes. Have you ever seen a magic show?”

What a bizarre conversation this was. Admittedly, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t enjoy it. Someone dropped a goblet of tea in the street beside them; before the glass shattered, he grabbed her by the waist and pivoted, liquid spattering his cape. Rukkhadevata blinked owlishly up at him from his chest. 

“Watch yourself.” Dainsleif checked over her hair and shawl. No stains. Good. 

“My hero,” she giggled. 

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. Clearing his throat, he said, “It has been a long, long time since I last saw a magic show. Why do you ask?”

“You’re familiar with the premise, though? No actual magic takes place, nor any elemental reactions. It’s all sleight of hand. So long as the magician can successfully redirect your attention where they want it, they are at liberty to establish any illusion they like.”

People behind him were still in an uproar. Someone–the person who'd dropped the tea, Dainsleif guessed–tapped his shoulder and said something in a dialect he didn't recognize. 

"He says he's terribly sorry," Rukkhadevata explained. "He's also offering you some free tea to make up for his mistake."

"Things happen." Unclipping his cape, Dainsleif shook some liquid free. "It’s waterproof anyway. I don't need any tea."

Chuckling, she replied, "He's going to insist. That's Sumeru."

Sure enough, the vendor was already busying himself with two copper mugs. A tea kettle on a large stick went into a barrel filled with sand heated over a fire; as the vendor pushed the kettle in circles, the liquid bubbled to the surface. Dainsleif barely had a moment before they were shooed along with their new drinks. Back to the topic at hand. Draping his cloak over an arm, Dainsleif said, "Yes, I'm familiar with how magic shows work. I presume that's your strategy here, then?"

"You'd be correct. Your superior does not trust me. I can't entirely blame him. Were the truth of the matter known, it would cause different problems in suspicions' place. The delicate balance is establishing enough of the truth–that I have no interest in mining you for Khaenri’ahn secrets, that I deeply enjoy you–and then obfuscating the rest."

“Very well. How do you propose to do that?”

Puspa Cafe was on them in a blink. Rukkhadevata gathered a skirt up in her free hand and spun around to face him. What a strange series of events he was caught in! Dainsleif, Khaenri’ah’s Twilight Sword, collaborating with Sumeru’s Archon to conceal a tryst. It was the surest testament to how much he trusted her. Before he could stop himself, he reached up and cupped her jaw in his palm. Her heavy gold earrings smacked against his knuckle. Reckless? Yes. They were very much in public. But Dainsleif couldn’t ignore the way her eyes went hazy and soft at his touch, nor how she leaned into him. 

“Bold,” she murmured. “You’re very bold, sir.”

What could he say? Rukkhadevata made him impulsive. After (scant) seconds, he dropped his hand away. “I suppose I am.”

She smiled. “I propose to–with your permission–bring Takama into this.”

—

The next morning bloomed bright and early, and Takama waited inside the House of Daena. Dainsleif saw her beaded headband and gold ears as soon as the Khaenri’ahn delegation headed toward the lift to the Grand Sage’s office. 

“Lord Alberich? A moment. I need to go meet with the forest ranger.”

If he were more or less suspicious today, the elder man didn’t show it. He just glanced over at Takama. “We’ll continue our way. Meet us whenever you’re done.”

“Certainly.”

Stifling a yawn, Dainsleif jogged over to the woman. Last night’s training had gone on especially long. At this point, it felt like he was being pressed for a weakness. For her part, Takama glanced between his face and his countrymen continuing on.

“Have anything for me?” Dainsleif asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead she produced a paper satchel of medicinal herbs tied with a string. When Dainsleif went to take it, Takama wrapped her hand (paw? The bones felt different) around his wrist.

“One second,” she muttered. “I’m waiting for them to be up the lift before I make you regret having me involved in this.”

Damn woman. He really, really would miss her. Dainsleif released a loud, aggrieved sigh, but held still. The lift whirred to life behind him. At last, Takama’s eyes snapped over to his. 

“How am I going to regret this?” He asked drily. 

She grinned; a broad, wicked thing that reminded him of a cat who’d broken into an aquarium and eaten all the fish, still licking its paws at the scene of a crime. “I don’t know, Sir Dainsleif . I know I’m missing information, but if I had to guess–”

“--and you don’t have to guess, you really don’t–”

“--I think you’re enamored with my–”

He clamped a hand over her mouth. Takama squealed so loud a laugh that the nearby scholars shot them dirty looks. “Thank you for the herbs. Anything else today, Forest Ranger ?”

Swatting away his palm, she answered, “I’ll be joining you and Rukkhadevata for dinner again today.”

Again. That was a telling word. He almost asked and then thought better of it. Whatever magic trick Rukkhadevata planned on pulling off, it doubtless hinged on him accepting every word either of the women said as absolute truth. So long as this gambit got him his evenings back. 

—

At the end of today’s meetings, Rukkhadevata turned to Lord Alberich. The mood was better today than yesterday. The air was fresh and carried the promise of eventual rain, wafting through the windows and into the meeting room. 

“Lord Alberich. I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner tonight?”

For his part, Lord Alberich looked so thoroughly confused that he couldn’t quite recover. “I apologize, was that on the itinerary?”

“Oh, no. No. You see, some evenings I like to have a few people to my personal quarters. Of late it’s just been myself, some of my assistants like Jyoti and Abeni, and Forest Ranger Takama, but we’ve had Sir Dainsleif join us as well. I thought I’d have you two tonight, if you’d allow me the courtesy?”

Lord Alberich’s eyes swiveled to his. Dainsleif did his absolute best to look as stoic as possible. 

“I do not have plans at present,” the older man finally allowed. “I suppose both myself and Sir Dainsleif will accept your invitation. Is there a time you would expect us?”

“Oh, no. Sir Dainsleif, I have no doubt, can bring you along at the expected time and place. Would you be so kind, Dainsleif?”

“If Lord Alberich has no need of me tonight with the soldiers, then I’d be happy to be a guide.”

Clearly the invitation shocked Lord Alberich. On their way back to the Khaenri’ahn quarters beforehand, the noble pivoted, shooting Dainsleif a stare. 

“I wasn’t aware of you attending any dinners.”

“I’m sure you were aware that I was out in Sumeru City in the evenings,” Dainsleif replied evenly. “Most of those times were in the company of Rukkhadevata or Takama.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And yet, you’ve reported nothing back to me.”

“The contents of the dinner conversations have been terribly inane. I’m sure you’ll see.”

—

Dainsleif had been bluffing. Fortunately, it seemed like some helpful wind carried his words to Takama. Dinner conversation tonight was utterly insane.The foursome met on the back pathway of the Akademiya and followed Rukkhadevata back to her quarters from there. She prepared them all a meal personally (a delicious curry that Takama demanded the recipe for). Cards came out; Dainsleif and Takama shot such intense smack talk over a game that Rukkhadevata almost cried laughing. By the end of the night, even Lord Alberich relaxed. He poured each of them a glass of wine and discussed the finer points of Rukkhadevata’s book collection with her–until Takama yelled at a bad hand of cards and flipped her deck into Dainsleif’s face. 

The night had well and truly fallen when the two men headed back to the Khaenri’ahn quarters. Clouds obscured the stars and moon. Over distant Dragonspine, lightning forked through the fog. Sprinkles of rain speckled Dainsleif’s cheeks. It was only once they got inside that Lord Alberich paused at his doorway. 

“Rukkhadevata and Takama. They seem…”

“Nice,” Dainsleif supplied. “They’re quite nice.” 

A beat. Lord Alberich exhaled, his fingertips drumming against the doorknob. “I won’t pretend as if I have no reservations on your conduct.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“But it doesn’t seem as if you’re threatening Khaenri’ah with it.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, my Lord.”

“You’re not as difficult to read as you think you are, Sir Dainsleif. Stop agreeing with me so I’ll leave you alone. It’s obvious to anyone who looks that you’re taken with the Dendro Archon. Not even your show tonight can dissuade me of that.”

Silence fell between them. Dainsleif didn’t know what to do. He stood, arms at his sides, waiting for anything–a reprimand, a compliment, a dismissal. Lord Alberich sighed again, sagging in the doorway. 

“Your feelings don’t override the facts of your position. You understand that, right?”

Dainsleif mulled over his words. There was no point denying it. At last, he conceded, “I’ve been blisteringly aware, my Lord. I’ve not let them.”

“You have a responsibility to Khaenri’ah that goes beyond your job. It is in your bloodline itself.”

“Once again, I’m aware.”

“LIke my teenager,” Lord Alberich muttered. “This is exactly like dealing with Chlothar.”

But the quiet that followed this time was far gentler. It was as if an unspoken accord settled between them. Dainsleif wondered how much the elder man had been through. Did he ever have an ill-advised love? Had he ever been in the same position? 

At long last, Lord Alberich sighed and opened his door. “Get some sleep, Dainsleif. So long as you’re back in your position by the appropriate hours every morning, I won’t go asking.”

The gambit had worked ? Dainsleif nearly stayed where he was out of sheer disbelief. A beat later, and he knew what he was going to do. “Of course, my Lord. Good night.”

“We don’t have meetings tomorrow.”

“Correct.”

“Meaning I won’t be expecting you tomorrow. Take the day.”

“I appreciate that, My Lord. Sleep well.”

Scarcely had they parted ways before Dainsleif turned around and headed right back out. Forget their usual meeting spot. He charged up the road, around the bend, past the ponds, up to Rukkhadevata’s chambers. It was pouring when he arrived at her door. A single light flickered through the stained glass. Good . She was up. He’d had no idea what he’d do if she wasn’t. Truthfully, he wasn’t thinking that far along. Dainsleif knocked over the sound of rain and his own hammering heart. 

A beat. The door cracked. Light spilled out into the rain. There she stood, haloed in green and yellow ambiance, wrapped in a brightly patterned silk robe held in her fist against her chest. Rukkhadevata’s eyes were so, so bright and concerned.

“Dainsleif? Are you okay?”

“Lord Alberich gave me the day off tomorrow,” he panted, suddenly feeling very presumptuous. “He said directly that he won’t expect me for duty. So I–I came back. I just–I wanted to see you again–”

She was smiling. She smiled , and reached for him to pull him inside, and something in his mind broke. Dainsleif forgot that he was soaking wet. He forgot that she wasn’t entirely clad, and that maybe it was presumptuous. His feet moved before he did. 

Sometime later–he checked–Dainsleif discovered they had shut and locked the front door. He honestly had no idea who. His arms encircled her. Her robe slid away; her bare chest stuck against his drenched shirt, like the sun made only brighter by moonlight. He cushioned her head and waist as he shoved her up against a wall. When she gasped, Dainsleif swallowed it in his mouth. That intoxicating hair tumbled free around them. He lavished her bare neck and shoulder and palm with kisses. Thighs went around his waist; he hiked her up, pushing his hips forward to keep her propped there; her chest heaved when he groaned into a breast. Pretty . Pretty, pretty, pretty. She was disheveled and her robe was barely on and she wore nothing underneath, just those eyes that rendered him senseless. 

“I just want to kiss you,” he confessed. “I’m not asking to have sex, but–”

“Stay,” Rukkhadevata whimpered. “I’m also not asking for sex. I’m asking you to stay. Please, stay.”

He’d never had to think about anything less.

—

The sky opened up overnight. Sheets of water fell so fast and thick outside that he couldn’t see even to the roof of the Akademiya below. Rukkhadevata’s room was warm and inviting, and her bed had plenty of room for both of them, so they stayed there all morning. Neither of her assistants were expected in weather like this. Together they prepared breakfast. She made them tea. Dainsleif made eggs (and almost burned them when they were so caught up kissing by the countertops). They lay on the couch, only covered by the thin fabric of her robe and each other, reading. 

Or, at least, she was. He couldn’t focus on that. Dainsleif carded his fingers through her hair and watched the strands slip away. Her little hands folded gently between pages. Only out of respect for her focus did he leave her mostly alone. He wanted to run a finger down the ridge of her nose, dance it over the bow of her mouth. The folds of her waist where she curved against him were a world he wanted to live in. She was smart, and so funny, and so agonizingly beautiful that it hurt . 

“Can I ask you something?” He murmured at long last.

Rukkhadevata immediately marked her page with a finger, looking up at him. “Of course.”

Infatuation wasn’t the word, was it? A painful, aching, desperate, hungry affection settled in his chest. Dainsleif trailed a fingertip over her shoulder. “How long do archons live?”

Rukkhadevata hummed. “Well, I’m not sure. None of us have died of natural causes, and many of us are elemental beings, which live longer. Morax, for instance, is over five thousand years old.”

“Oh. How long do elemental beings live?”

A pause. The rain picked up outside, hammering against the tiled roof. She outright set her book down. “Are you familiar with erosion as a concept of memory?”

“No. I can’t say I am.”

“When beings live for long enough, their memory begins to wear away. You see this commonly in more aged humans. They’ll start simply forgetting things. Well, not even beings like us Archons are immune–not even I, who cares for Irminsul. Eventually, all things are subject to it. And I say all this to say that I don’t exactly know how old my people live. All but myself and a few others died in the Archon War. I’ve lived so long that I no longer fully remember how old some of them were.”

Dainsleif brushed his thumb along her cheek and watched her lean into his touch. “I’m sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be. I dislike talking about the war, but I don’t mind answering questions that involve it. Why were you asking?”

“Forgive me if it’s rude. I was curious how old you were.”

“Oh. That? Hm…” Thoughtful, Rukkhadevata walked her fingertips up his bare chest. “Around four thousand.”

Four thousand. Four thousand . Forget that she was an archon. She’d lived (and fought) through the death of her people as a kind, through a country-shaping war that still carved them apart to this day. She’d seen countless suns rise and fall. Who had remained at her side through her worst days? All at once, Dainsleif felt terribly small in her shadow. “I see.”

“How old are you?”

A beat. Feeling silly, he conceded, “Thirty-eight.”

But Rukkhadevata just nodded, curling into his chest, fixing him with those bright eyes. An grief that was-not-yet-present pressed into his back. In a bid to toss it away, he brought a lock of her hair to his mouth and kissed it. 

Maybe it was foolish to hope she wouldn’t notice. This was the Archon of Wisdom. She was Rukkhadevata, and she was four thousand years older than him, and every part of her was a Divinity that could not be assigned by something as inane as Celestia or a Gnosis. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek. 

(Oh no. Dainsleif looked in those eyes and understood what bothered him. He’d known before he’d Known, but there it was–a sharp, stinging, explosive, simple truth. He loved her. He Loved her, and he was falling for her, and whatever happened past this strange diplomatic visit, she would continue to live in his heart in this moment.)

“What’s on your mind?” She asked sweetly.

And instead of admitting everything, before he could stop himself, Dainsleif asked, “Despite the erosion, do you think you’ll remember me?”

Rukkhadevata hummed. “Your kind live around eighty years, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s say I would live to be ten thousand. Even with Irminsul’s influence, erosion will render me incapable of recalling many things. I prefer not to give certain answers where there are none.”

Dainsleif nodded. “Of course.”

“With that being said,” she said, and pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I’m very, very confident that I’ll remember you until I die.”

Exhale. 

Everything became dreamlike–too soft to be tracked, too delicious to forget. Dainsleif was over her on the couch suddenly; her robe was open again. His arm was around her waist, and their mouths were together, and he distantly realized he was crying. She wiped away his tears with her lips and no commentary. Burying his face in her neck, he breathed in the heady scent of oud and jasmine and her body against his. His cologne smelled right on her.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispered directly to her heart. 

Rukkhadevata’s arms tightened around him. 

“Please,” she said. “And I, to you.”

#ASLG #A Sun Long Gone #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin dainsleif #genshin rukkhadevata #greater lord rukkhadevata #Dainsleif x Rukkhadevata #my writing #Dainsleif fanfic #Rukkhadevata fanfic

[liminalpsych-in-teyvat]

Personal fanfic prompts (Genshin)

Fanfic prompts for myself (or if you know a fic that already exists with these themes, please point me in that direction so I can read it!):

Explore Ayato’s parentified childhood. Him avoiding dealing with it as an adult. Eventually having no choice but to deal with it. (Touching on this in A Matter of Duty but would like to do a short story focusing on it.)

Writing this one as A Matter of Duty (it’s extremely NSFW, mind the tags on AO3). That political period after the Kamisato parents died and before Ayato succeeded at proving himself as not one to be messed with. How did he manage that? Hurt/comfort where Thoma and/or Ayaka finally uncover what it cost Ayato behind the scenes. Insert trauma here.

Childe's 3 months in the Abyss. Hurt/comfort of actually revealing some of the details with ??? Zhongli maybe? Someone else? Or they find out some other way, without him telling them, and then confront him about it, insert feels here. (Is it just exhilaration that makes him seek out fights and to become stronger, or is it so he won't be a victim of that ever again? Or is he halfway suicidal, since "He has unusual tastes when it comes to combat — the encounters he craves the most being those that bring him closest to his own demise.")

Also Scara's time in the Abyss/as an experiment of Dottore. I haven't been able to find fic about this which is just confusing.

Venti drinks as self-medication/avoidance (I believe all addiction is self medication), uses deflection and humor to avoid vulnerability or dealing with his grief, he's not as happy as he seems. (Haven't gone looking for this fic, it's just my personal headcanon, it probably exists somewhere.)

Something about the Traveler as witness. Angsty experimental piece. It’s a theme that comes up repeatedly, in every land they go to: “witness this, remember this, write this, sing this when I am gone, you are not of this land and can remember when no one else can”. It hits me hard every time (as a psychotherapist, who witnesses so many inner lives that then move on without me, as they should; and I am the container for so many stories that I cannot share; and it is sometimes terribly lonely). Hits harder still when the Traveler remembers Rukkhadevata and no one else does, and the Traveler can’t even talk about it. Holding the space for people and nations and gods. They are not the main character, they are the lens.

Therapy AU with Traveler as therapist (fuck. It’d happen too. He’s the witness, after all)

Jeht/Lumine. Seriously anything. They get together finally, or they have a long distance type relationship where they meet up here and there, or hurt/comfort after everything that happened in 3.4 (at least I found a couple good fics of this), or Jeht joins Lumine for traveling around Teyvat (also a couple well done stories about that).

Fix-it fic for Tadhla because ouch did her story hurt. And she deserved better.

Tadhla/Jeht when they were both in training, maybe. I could see this being a thing. (Which means Tadhla/Jeht/Lumine could absolutely be a thing too. At least as a one-off.)

Xiao/Aether exploring Xiao's need to be owned/wielded/fear of having his own agency or making his own choices. The bindings of contracts and duty that he entered into with Morax that kept him intact even as his duties poisoned him. The mess he's become in the aftermath of Zhongli's retirement.

Zhongli didn't foresee this, thinks he's doing what's best for Xiao or it didn't even occur to him that Xiao would be undone by his strings being cut.

Or Zhongli did foresee this / did notice it, and isn't sure how to fix it or handle it. He's watching Xiao slip further and further and nothing he's tried has worked. Calls in Aether. Transfer of contract/"ownership"? (Insert kink aspects here.)

Bonus Zhongli/Childe, either past or current? Childe being another barely-held-together soul in need of grounding and containment (which of course Geo is great for).

Ayato speaks always with a purpose. “He has forgotten how to do this, Ayato realizes, panic sparking at the bottom of his chest. He doesn't know how to say useless things anymore, to talk for the sake of bringing words into the world.” (From this excellent fic.) Play with this as a therapist parallel, like what happens to me when I’ve been saying every disclosure and every line with intent, focused on clients and their well being and then struggling to switch modes to talk with my interpersonal connections.

Ayato's relationship with Shuumatsuban. Thanks to "Lord Commissioner, the Momoyo flowers have not withered. The branches grow yet. Do not worry." Vaguely The Cost of the Crown (Lackey/Valdemar) but about Thoma and Shuumatsuban and Kazuha's friend and Kazuha and all those sworn to Kamisato and to Yashiro. Possibly he is closer to the Shuumatsuban than he lets on, and also feels very very responsible to them; orphans that are raised in a ninja village to be extra loyal to the Kamisato Clan and Yashiro Commission? Whose names no one remembers (no one, perhaps, except Ayato). ooo. remembering their names. Regularly. (Check Thoma's hangout about the ninken but also the Momoyo flowers quest. Maybe this centers around getting that note? starts or ends with it?)

Cut for the kinkier stuff:

A Matter of Duty (working on this one!): Ayato isn't above using sex to get information or get closer to people, a la Kushiel's Dart.

And/or, Thoma will do anything for the Kamisato Clan, and his role as "fixer" is "fix the situation by any means necessary". Sometimes this is bribery, favors exchanged, gifts. Other times it's interrogation, assassination, threats. Still others are sexual (for information, as payment, or to get close enough for assassination/thievery/etc).

and/or, Thoma and Ayato are close and they do all the dirty work behind the scenes. Keep Ayaka from having to know about it, see it, or deal with it. They've paid a high price. Ayato uses Thoma as currency and for dirty work, with Thoma's consent. Thoma stepped up to this role when the Kamisato parents died and he caught Ayato using his own body as currency; he volunteered himself to try to save Ayato from it.

Thoma as a party favor/servant at a formal dinner event.

yes diplomat shenanigans and service / sacrifice is absolutely one of my narrative kinks, don’t judge me. I might have to write this story / set of stories. We’ll see if I can get my crap together enough to do so.

Ayato meets Alhaitham on a diplomatic errand to Sumeru. Sparks. They fall into bed to gain information about the other and for mutual attraction, and discover they've met their match at subterfuge and dissembling. It's a tantalizing challenge for them both, rarely meeting another of equivalent competence and intelligence. They flirt by playing sociopolitical chess (metaphorically speaking) against each other across the years. Eventually Feelings develop, oops. Slow burn. (Thoma/Kaveh too? Polyamorous quad? Thoma sent as surrogate at some point? Trading Thoma and Kaveh somehow?

Could also combine with the previous set of prompts, they’re not mutually exclusive.

Spin-off from Matter of Duty, but it's Thoma who's on the diplomatic errand first, and Ayato grows fascinated with Alhaitham through Thoma's accounts?

this story concept is getting out of control, why do I do this to myself

Babel/Lumine and how would Jeht respond to that, hurt no comfort in that case probably. Could eventually lead to Lumine/Jeht as Babel is absolutely just setting Lumine up for betrayal, which would be more in the hurt/comfort vein. Or maybe Babel is getting with Lumine because she knows Jeht has a thing for Lumine and she wants to break that tie to isolate Jeht further. Probably would have been a smarter approach than trying to get them to kill each other.

Babel/someone (Lumine, Jeht, Azariq, doesn’t really matter) with a whole worshipping-Domme-as-goddess dynamic. Because she absolutely sets herself up that way.

Babel/Jeht in a grooming-Jeht-for-awful-roles kind of way. Kind of squicky for me so I might not write it but it has a lot of potential to be interesting.

A dominant recovering from an emotionally abusive relationship with a submissive. …what’s awful is that Alhaitham/Kaveh would work for this. But probably people would hate it? I would disclaimer the hell out of it with “I actually love Alhaitham/Kaveh and it’s one of my favorite ships, but I really wanted/needed to write a story with this dynamic, and they were the best option.” Alternatively Alhaitham/Kaveh and Alhaitham had an ex who was abusive, but… I can’t see him being okay with the dynamic he has with Kaveh then. Other options?

Thoma has a yokai/shapeshifter/monster kink. That's it, that's the prompt, I don't know what to do with it yet, but we know he loves stories of yokai and shapeshifters canonically, this is just taking it to the next level.

EDIT: whoo boy I completely forgot Childe was a *literal child* when he fell into the Abyss, scratch that fic concept from the record unless it involves an aged-up Childe, yikes. (I haven’t dug into Childe much as a character and I don’t have him in my roster so I didn’t actually know the details of his story.)

#fic prompts #fic ideas #to write #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #ayato #thoma #kaveh #alhaitham #kavetham #ayatham #thomato #kink prompts #the abyss #scaramouche #genshin skirk #childe #tartaglia #Venti #alcohol cw #trauma cw #abuse tw #jeht x lumine #jeht ufairah hindi #babel genshin impact

[eleventhfatui]

Swan Lake Tsaritsa AU Ramble (idk)

Okay. So here me out the Tsaritsa is Odette / Odile (sort of like how the Black Swan Movie chose the same person to represent both.)

In Swan Lake, Odette is cursed by a sorcerer and is later found by a Prince during the night when she’s able to turn back. They fall in love, but in nearly every tragic version they both die.

So, here me out. The Tsaritsa falls in love with the former archon of Sumeru, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. We know in game lore so far that she may be the Goddess of Love, but something happened during the Cataclysm to turn her more cold and change her formerly loving personality. Childe says in his voice lines that she was too gentle and forced to harden herself.

Alright so bring it together time. The Tsaritsa prior to the Cataclysm is Odette, she falls in love with Rukkhadevata (for the sweet juxtaposition of spring/grass and winter combo.) However, a sorcerer brings them apart (so maybe this could be someone else, or it’s literally just Gold’s Abyss Monsters doing their thing.) The Tsaritsa maybe doesn’t chose to act in the war despite maybe Rukkhadevata trying to convince her or maybe she does, but ultimately one way or another Rukkhadevata dies (same as how Prince Siegfried nearly always dies in the tragedy versions of the play.)

Thus she loses him and becomes cold, then becoming the Black Swan/Odile.

There can be so much symbolism. I’m trying to write a fanfic on it but my brain is stupid.

#fanfic #the tsaritsa #genshin impact fanfics #genshin drabbles #genshin au

[ikesenhell]

A Sun Long Gone, Chapter Nine

You can find all masterlists at the top of my page (AO3, Genshin Impact, Ikemen Sengoku, and Ikemen Vampire). NOTES: This work is 18+. THIS IS THE FINAL OFFICIAL CHAPTER (sans Epilogue). TW: IMPLIED SPOILERS FOR THE SUMERU ARCHON QUEST. IYKYK. Suicidal ideation, blood, pain, general distress, horror elements. The Cataclysm. Grief. Death. Unfair/unkind emotions.

Thank you for reading this. I hope it was satisfying, if painful. May love be a shield around you, too, even if you've forgotten.

---

If Dainsleif ever had the chance to ask Celestia a question (or whatever was actually responsible for creation and all life therein) and the wherewithal not to swing first, one of the first that came to mind was this: How was it that terrible things could happen so suddenly? What providence allowed for someone to wake up and behave as if they had a tomorrow when they did not? If fate was so assuredly written in the stars as the astrologers believed, why had they not descended to Khaenri’ah by the score, spreading news of the incoming calamity? Beware! Disaster looms! But by the time he ever considered this, his memory was already fragmented. 

This wasn’t all bad. Time and forgetfulness healed some wounds. He no longer woke in the middle of the night, breathless and drenched in sweat, plumes of smoke and red skies burning in his dreams. He no longer remembered with crystal clarity how Khaenri’ahns writhed in pain and twisted into shells of themselves, contorted and screaming–even when they no longer had the same voices to scream with. He no longer saw the ash and blood in the streets behind his closed eyes, or recalled how Torsten’s blood tasted when the man fell to the onslaught, or heard the bells chiming danger, danger, danger in his skull. And no longer could he remember when first he felt the sharp, agonizing, crushing pain of the curse. His voice had cracked from shrieking. That much was all he could say. 

The Cataclysm was over. The Cataclysm was over, and he remembered it only in pieces, and the Cataclysm was never over, never, never, never. Dainsleif woke with the same pain every morning; he walked the roads with it; he looked at his hands and feet and face and saw it reflected back at him. Nothing took it from him. No alcohol or time could stop that eternal agony. 

What stuck in his mind from that day was this: there was a moment where, once Dainsleif realized archons were present, he looked for Rukkhadevata. Was she there? Had Lord Alberich been right? Had all of his love and trust and faith meant nothing? The word despair meant nothing to him before that. How could this happen? But he looked, and he looked, and she wasn’t there, and the relief buoyed him enough to keep going. 

That relief was temporary.

There wasn’t much of his initial journey Dainsleif could remember either. Somehow he wound up in Mondstadt with Lumine, an outlander that he hadn’t known terribly closely before. They bonded on the road. She was searching for her twin in the wake of the Cataclysm; Dainsleif was searching for answers. There were a thousand trials and tribulations and together, they faced them all.

But not even Lumine learned what kept him up at night. 

Dainsleif didn’t wear the mushroom bangle anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to. It had only survived the Cataclysm with him because it was on his wrist at the time. Nothing else of his life before survived, just his uniform and this bangle. Everything else went up in flames. At night, he’d lay awake and turn it between his fingers, staring at every angle as if it would tell him the truth. Had Rukkhadevata known? There were rumors–rumors he refused to believe, couldn’t believe–that she had perished in the Cataclysm. How could that be? He hadn’t seen her. There was still a Dendro Archon, with no conceivable lapse in time. People said the new one was a child, but she’d told him about how she’d regressed into such a state herself after using a lot of power. There was no way she’d perished. It was just a misunderstanding. 

Maybe she was looking for him. Maybe she assumed he was dead. All that kept him from running to her as fast as the road allowed was crippling fear and bouts of paralyzing rage. Even if she hadn’t known, why had she done nothing? The other Archons knew enough to arrive. Surely she’d been warned even a second in advance. And if she truly wasn’t, why did she still serve as Archon? Was this not enough to damn the entirety of Celestia and her tyranny, condemn the gnosis and the gods and every other hateful part? Even if she were afraid for what might happen to Sumeru if she spoke out, did Khaenri’ah mean so little to her? 

Did he mean so little to her? Perhaps that was the true fear: that Rukkhadevata was the love of his life, and she considered him just a man she’d once loved. 

So it was with a queasy stomach and tense jaw that he approached Sumeru City once more, seven years since he last saw it. It was fall again, neither unseasonably warm or unseasonably cool (not like when he and Rukkhadevata walked among the gardens). The gate was different. A lot was different. Some old cafes and buildings had been torn down and replaced. The streets were repaved. But the layout was generally the same. 

So was the Akademiya. 

“Wow,” Lumine breathed at his side. Her gold eyes were huge. “It’s built into the tree?”

“Yes. It supports the entire city.”

“Incredible. That’s incredible. I wonder how in the world something like that grew. Do you think it was the power of the Dendro Archon?”

Dainsleif honestly didn’t know. He blinked up at the platforms to the Akademiya. Why had he never asked? “It seems probable. After all, I haven’t seen another of its size in Sumeru.”

The woman at his side nodded decisively. Before she could finish her next sentence–probably to suggest they find an inn to put their things and wash up from the road, or a cafe to eat–an almighty ruckus snatched their attention. 

“ Dainsleif! ”

No way . He knew that voice. Dainsleif stared, disbelieving, as a pair of golden ears bobbed and weaved through a crowd. Some poor passerby was shoved into a fruit stall. Takama–gold coin headband swaying, tail trailing behind her–didn’t stop or apologize. She broke into a flat sprint, aiming directly for him. 

“Dainsleif!” She screamed again. 

Did he laugh? Did he cry? He wanted to do both. He’d missed this wrecking ball of a woman. Before he could stop himself, Dainsleif opened his arms. Takama took a flying leap and latched around his chest. 

“You’re alive!” She was sobbing. “Thank you, Greater Lord, you’re alive –you’re alive! ”

What else could he do? He buried his face in her shoulder and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. How could he have predicted that she’d be one of his only friends left alive? Hugging her reminded him of nights of cards, and the Black Serpent Knights, and the drunken night at the tavern, and the smell of curry and jasmine tea, and raucous laughter as they all gave each other shit. It was a long time before Takama’s bawling dissolved into sniffles. He held her the whole while. Finally, she leaned back and cupped his face in her hands. 

“You look incredible,” she said, awed. “I swear you haven’t aged a day.”

Dainsleif didn’t have the heart to say why. That would’ve taken him past the point of tears. Instead, he forced a weak smile. “It’s nice to see you, Takama. Can I put you down?”

“Oh. Shit. Right, right.” 

Back on her own two feet, Takama rounded on Lumine, holding out a hand. “Hi. I’m Forest Ranger Takama. Who are you?”

To her credit, Lumine didn’t hesitate. She took the offered hand. “Lumine. I’m a friend of Dainsleif’s.”

“Well, any friend of Dainsleif’s is a friend of mine. Are…” A pause. Takama lowered her voice. “Are you also Khaenri’ahn?”

Lumine paused. “We both made it out together.”

Takama’s smile fell away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know everything that happened, but I’ve heard rumors. I’m so, so sorry. Can I ask a selfish question?”

He knew where this was going. Visions of a face bloodied almost beyond recognition flashed through his mind. Gently, Dainsleif intercepted. “Torsten died in the initial chaos. I’m sorry.”

Silence. The woman ducked her head and exhaled. “I was afraid of that. I thought so. It had been too long since there were any letters. I just… I hoped, you know?”

“Yeah,” Lumine offered gently. “Yeah. I understand. It’s difficult, not knowing.”

All at once, Dainsleif was suddenly afraid of what Takama might ask next. He’d never told Lumine about his trip to Sumeru. And Rukkhadevata? That was a secret heavily guarded within Khaenri’ah. Not even his own men had breathed a word about her. He wasn’t ready to explain himself or talk about that. Not yet. Without prelude, he touched Takama’s shoulder. “Listen, we need to get to an inn and find a room for the night. Shall you and I catch up over dinner?”

Lumine shot him a look. Takama did, too, though a different one. “Yeah. Let me show you the way. Obviously, the quarters you used aren’t available, but I know a decent place. Want to meet up at Puspa around dusk? Do you remember where it is?”

“Is it in the same place?”

“Yep. Hasn’t changed.”

“Then I remember.”

“Alright. Come on. Lumine, stick close. The streets get crowded.”

Oh, Sumeru City. Walking back into it was… complicated. His heart was full and heavy, comforted and throbbing with pain. Everywhere he looked was a new memory or a place lost to time. The cafe he and the men usually went to for breakfast was gone. A brand new restaurant stood in its place. One of the dining spaces on the hill was replaced by an Adventurer’s Guild. But vendors he still recognized hawked their wares, and Akademiya students and researchers still milled about in the same uniforms. The same green tiles decorated every roof. He could hear a production echo up the stairwell to the Grand Bazaar. At last, they arrived at a tavern. 

“Here.” She motioned at the door. “They usually have good rooms, though you might have to share one. I’ll see you around dusk?”

“Dusk, Puspa Cafe,” he confirmed. “I’ll be there.”

Takama offered Lumine a smile and wave, turning to vanish back into the crowds. The second she was out of sight, Lumine rounded on him. 

“I didn’t know you’d visited here before.”

How did he explain? The truth was simplest. Slowly, Dainsleif said, “Khaenri’ah and Sumeru had certain diplomatic and research ties. I was assigned to guard Lord Alberich on one of his initial visits to hammer out the details, and another when the nations agreed to let Khaenri’ah build a facility in the desert. Takama was one of the people who served as a guide.”

Lumine frowned. That didn’t explain why he’d hurried Takama along, Dainsleif knew. It also didn’t explain why he’d made arrangements to meet Takama for dinner alone. In all the time they’d journeyed together, he’d never requested such a thing. But if she were truly curious, she didn’t ask. Instead she yawned, stretched, and turned toward the tavern door. “Do you think they’ll have showers?”

“If times haven’t changed in Sumeru, it’s more likely there’s a bath.”

“Even better. I feel gross. Come on, let’s go. You don’t want to be smelly for your meetup.”

—

Puspa Cafe hadn’t changed much. There was a different fountain in the center now, and a different person took his order at the counter. Otherwise? The same tables and chairs greeted him. Takama was waiting in the same spot they’d always pulled up in, right beside a colored glass window. Pangs of anxiety rippled through his stomach. What if Rukkhadevata came in right now? Would he recognize her as a child? Wouldn’t that be strange for him to be fully grown and her so young? Uncertain but unwilling to be taken by surprise, he pulled up a chair where he could see the front door and settled in. Takama scooted a mug of chai to him and gave a weary smile. Her eyes were still puffy from crying. 

“I still can’t believe you’re alive.”

A thousand more cynical thoughts sprung to mind. In the end, he settled on, “Me either.”

“Like I said, I’ve heard rumors about what you all went through. If it was anything like the hell that unleashed up here…” A beat. She frowned and spun her own glass in her hands. “I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that. You’ve probably thought about it enough.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. I’m sure you’re curious about everyone up here and all that. Abeni is–”

Cutting her off, Dainsleif went to the heart of things. “Rukkhadevata. It’s about Rukkhadevata. I heard a rumor that she reverted to a child’s form again.”

Silence. Takama stared at him, eyes darting back and forth between his, searching for something . Why wasn’t she talking? Why did she say nothing? Impatient, Dainsleif said, “She told me it happened before. That’s how I know about–”

“Dainsleif.” It was her turn to intercept the conversation. “She didn’t revert.”

No? A strange relief flooded him. He sat back in his chair. “Huh. I wonder where–”

Again, Takama interjected. Her voice was strangled and faint. “She’s dead, Dainsleif.”

No

The world stopped. Hadn’t it? How could the sun continue to rise and set on a Teyvat where there was no Khaenri’ah and no Rukkhadevata? His hands buzzed. Everything spun. Desperate for anything to ground him, he clenched weakly at the table.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“I thought–” He couldn’t breathe. Gulping down air, Dainsleif tried again. “I thought that–I thought that didn’t make sense. It was a rumor. It didn’t make any sense. I–when?”

“The same day.” Takama took his hand in hers and squeezed, applying comforting pressure. He gripped at her fingers like a life line. “When Sumeru was attacked, she was sent to guard Irminsul. There were fears that whatever was happening would go after that, too. I don’t know all the details, but from what I understand, that was the case. She was killed there.”

Killed . In his mind, Dainsleif could see Rukkhadevata so clearly. Green eyes, long, white hair, hooked nose, bright smile, dark skin and a soothing voice. How could anyone kill her? How could anyone lay a finger on her? Being ripped apart would hurt less than the primal hatred and sorrow consuming him. All this time he’d laid awake at night, spiraling between fear and love and a thousand questions, and none of them had ever mattered. She’d died seven years ago, and he’d been so wrapped up in Khaenri’ah that he’d never even worried about her? 

A kinder, gentler part of him knew that he’d just not been able to accept the possibility of more grief. The rest of him, consumed by self-loathing, stomped it down. 

“What about the Dendro Archon?” He managed. “I thought–I thought there was a new one?”

“There is. She’s a child. We call her Lesser Lord Kusanali. Rukkhadevata is now known as the Greater Lord. She lives in the Sanctuary of Suresthana, under the care of the Sages. She appeared the day Rukkhadevata died, so we all thought the same thing you did at first.”

“They’re not the same? Are they sure?”

Takama shook her head. “They aren’t. We’re sure.”

A waitress arrived to serve them their food. She asked if they needed anything else; Takama hurriedly declined and shooed her away. Eating had never seemed so revolting. Dainsleif stared at the plate, too numb and nauseous to even take a bite. 

“You’re staying at the tavern I recommended, right?” Takama asked after a long while. He just nodded. “Uh, will your friend Lumine mind if you’re missing for a night?”

His voice emerged in a whisper. “Why?”

“Her apartment is still maintained. Only a few people have keys. One of them is Abeni. I just thought…” Hesitating only a moment, she plowed forward, “I thought you might want to stay there instead. You know. Process a bit, be on your own. Is that something you’d like?” After another beat, she eyed him warily. “Is that something I could trust you to do?”

Dainsleif wanted to laugh. If he could’ve killed himself, he would’ve already. But as for the rest… was it wise to stay in that apartment? Could he grapple with himself and all the unanswered questions alone? There was no way of knowing. 

But maybe–if even for a moment–that apartment would let him daydream. 

“Yes,” he said. “You could trust me.”

—

Lumine wasn’t in the room when he dropped in, so Dainsleif left a note before heading back out. Takama emerged around the road with someone beside her. Not even the night could keep him from recognizing the other woman. 

“Dainsleif,” Abeni breathed. Her afro was shot with silver. New wrinkles had appeared in the edges of her mouth. “I can’t believe it. It’s really you.”

“Good to see you, Abeni.” He tried to force a smile. It must’ve wobbled unconvincingly. The other woman took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re alive. Is Jyoti?”

“Yes. She married a woman from Mondstadt. They live in some town out there now, but I hear from her occasionally. She’s doing well. Do you want me to write, send her news of you?”

Dainsleif shook his head. “No. Truthfully, I’m trying not to draw too much attention to myself. If she comes to visit and it comes up, you can tell her, but I’d like not to be written about.”

If either of them had questions, they didn’t voice them. They just nodded and motioned for him to follow. 

“Try to keep a low profile,” Abeni murmured. “No one is supposed to access her quarters except the sages anymore.”

Up, up, up the road they went. It was the same familiar walkway. Someone had replanted the gardens; different flowers grew in new arrangements. New water features bubbled merrily in the background. Chilly air brushed gently through his hair. At the midway point he stopped to take in the familiar view of the forest of glowing mushrooms, still so vivid in the dark. The women waited patiently until he’d had his fill. Around the corner they walked, and then—at last. A familiar doorway. 

There were no lights on. Darkened stained glass rippled in the moonlight. Abeni reached into her purse and produced a small silver key, turning the lock with a faint click . 

“Feel free to leave it open when you go,” she said. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon and lock it again. Okay?”

His mouth was desert dry. Somehow, he forced himself to nod. “Alright. Thank you.”

Once more she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. Both she and Takama gave him weak, closed-mouth smiles, and walked away. 

For the first time since the Cataclysm, he was alone. For the first time in seven years, he was alone in front of Rukkhadevata’s doorway. Maybe he would turn the knob and discover it was all a nasty prank. Maybe she would be there on the couch, waiting for him with a smile and open arms. Perhaps that was someone’s idea of a joke. Yes. Maybe. But even as desperately as he hoped, Dainsleif knew that wasn’t the case. 

With trembling hands, he reached out and opened the door. 

Silvery light streamed into the living room. It smelled like dust. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, and everything submerged in inky dark. Where was the damn lamp? Too afraid to fish around for one and risk knocking something over, he scrounged through his pockets and lit a match. The feeble light did the trick. He found one on a tiny couch table and lit the long-unused candle wick. 

All of the books were gone. That was the first thing he noticed: row upon row of empty shelves. Dainsleif stood and stared at them. Everything was clean, but signs of disuse were everywhere. Perfectly folded blankets lay on perfectly fluffed pillows. No shoes waited in the entryway. Not a single sunsettia or peach rest in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. On habit he removed his boots and stored them by the door. He couldn’t have the lamp illuminated for long–it ran the risk of someone seeing the light from the living room window, where there were no curtains–so he picked it up and carried it with him to the bedroom door. 

It was locked. Mystified, Dainsleif wiggled the latch. Abeni must’ve forgotten all about that. On a hunch, he felt around the door frame and located a tiny gold key. Perfect. The door gave way. Inhaling for strength, he stepped inside. 

Where the living room was perfect and sterile, the bedroom was not. All of her books were still here. Faint and stale though it was, the scent of oud and jasmine lingered. Cushions still lay haphazardly by the little vanity; a hairbrush was on the floor; notebooks were stacked on the nightstand. The bedsheets were tossed back, as if someone had gotten up and never thought to make it. A thick layer of dust coated everything. He flung the curtains shut to buy a measure of privacy, then set the lamp down. 

What was he supposed to do? For what felt like forever, Dainsleif stood, paralyzed, staring at her bed. Was she really not going to emerge? How did this room exist without her? Nothing felt right. Finally–buoyed by the need to do something –he went to the bathroom and found her washcloths under the sink. 

The moon was high in the sky by the time he finished cleaning. The sheets and pillows and floor cushions were shaken out into the tub and the surfaces wiped down. He even went through all of the shelves and dusted. It was easier than thinking. Dainsleif scrubbed and dusted and wiped everything down until it was perfect, then scrubbed at imaginary stains in bizarre places. If he stopped, he stopped being numb. If he wasn’t numb…

But soon enough, there was nothing left to clean. He washed all the cloths and hung them over the edge of the tub to dry, then hopped in the tub and rinsed himself. Pain coursed through his blood to the point of delirium. Still, he dragged himself out, dried off, blew out the lamp, and headed to the mattress. 

Well. This was it. Dainsleif stared at the bed. Had he ever gotten in first? Was there ever a time he hadn’t seen Rukkhadevata waiting, or flung her onto it himself? Not to his recollection. Uneasy, he sat heavily on the edge, folded his clothes, and–for the first time in years–popped on the mushroom bracelet. Rain began to pitter-patter on the roof outside, the only thing to cut through the agonizing silence around him. On habit, he reached up and rubbed at his shoulder, thumb catching on the scar. 

Right. The scar. Dainsleif worked a finger over every groove, bumped them over the tooth marks embossed in his skin. That had happened in this very room. He was so used to it that he sometimes forgot it was there. How could he forget? 

“Hey,” he announced to the empty room. “You were supposed to outlive me. You know that, right?”

No one replied. 

Sudden as a punch, Dainsleif bent double. Every tear he’d suppressed flooded free; the sorrow he’d swallowed ripped from his chest in a hard, agonized wail. She was gone. She was gone . She was gone, she was gone, she was gone. There were no words to articulate the cavern left in him. She was just gone , and he, her lesser half, was all that remained. 

He didn’t know how long he cried. Eventually he curled up in a ball on the bed and sobbed himself to sleep. 

—

“Hey!”

Dainsleif woke with a start. Or did he? He wasn’t entirely sure, not when a peculiar, round, green creature was standing on the bed. It had leaves as a hat and floated, staring at him with huge black eyes. He just stared back. 

“Hey,” it repeated. “Blue Mask Nara! Friend of Queen Aranyani! Wake up!”

What in the Abyss was happening? Maybe he was dreaming. Sluggish, he sat up with a grunt and tried to orient himself. “Queen who?”

“Queen Aranyani,” the creature repeated, and gave a little spin. Like that explained anything. “Leader of the Aranara and the Sumeru Nara!”

Right. This felt a little like reasoning with a toddler. Moving on, Dainsleif managed, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Arama.” Once again, it did a spin. “And you are Blue Mask Nara! I’m here to take you to the special thing Queen Aranyani left for you!”

Dainsleif scrounged around in his memory and produced a single feeble recollection. Hadn’t Rukkhadevata mentioned Aranara once before? Didn’t they only show themselves to children? Who was this ‘Queen Aranyani’ it kept mentioning? But it seemed to know him–if only by a distinctive feature–so he reached for his shirt and pulled it on. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see! Arama will take you, Blue Mask Nara! I’ll use my Ararakalari and poof! We will be there. Come, come! Are you ready?”

“Will we come back here afterward?”

“Yes, yes. We will bring back Blue Mask Nara.”

It wasn’t as if his life could get much weirder. Buoyed by curiosity, Dainsleif nodded. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

Everything rippled. Shades of green shuddered through his vision and fluttered away. In an instant, they were standing before a truly massive, silver tree. The trunk twisted in an impossible shape. Pink leaves swayed under a red sky. He’d forgotten his boots; grass crunched under his bare feet as he stepped forward. Arama scuttled along. 

“Here!” He said. “Here is where Queen Aranyani said!”

Dainsleif glanced near the roots. There, almost hidden in some wildflowers, a silver object glinted. He knelt and freed it from the tangle of matted green. The moment it popped into his hand, his heart dropped into his stomach. 

It was the lotus bangle. 

At his touch, it flashed, then glowed green, then floated out of his hand. A bright light wobbled into shape on the grass. And then–

There she was. Rukkhadevata stepped forward. Her hair was pulled hastily back in a ponytail, her face and arms were smeared with soot and soil and blood, her clothes were stained. Still, she smiled. She smiled, and Dainsleif wanted to rip his heart out and hand it to her. 

“Rukkhadevata,” he choked, and reached for her. His hand passed right through hers. 

“I’m sorry, love,” she replied. “I thought you might do that, but this was all I could do. There wasn’t enough time to produce anything more solid.”

Crying. He was crying again. He could feel hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Dainsleif forced his hands to his side and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“You survived.” There was so much awe in her voice. “I’m so glad. I’m so, so glad you survived, my love.”

Was this a shade of the past? Was it some kind of a simulation created by the power of the dendro gnosis? Dainsleif didn’t know and wasn’t willing to ask. He would take even a shade of her over her eternal silence. “I’m not so sure I’m glad,” he said with a derisive chuckle. “Every day, it hurts. I’m in pain, and I’m angry, and I miss you. I’ve spent seven years not knowing you were dead, and I wondered almost every day if you’d known what was going to happen, and–”

“I didn’t,” she said, soft as a petal. All those years of pent up rage at her dissolved to nothing. “I didn’t know anything.”

Through tears, he forced, “I believe you. What killed you here?”

Rukkhadevata reached for him. He couldn’t feel the hand skating along his cheek, but if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he did. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know. It will bring you no peace, only further pain. Besides, we have only so much time together. My power over this will soon end.”

Miserable, Dainsleif whispered, “Please don’t go.”

She, too, was crying now. “My darling, I am already gone.”

If ever he met Celestia, Dainsleif would ask (if he didn’t swing on sight and principle) how it was that such agony existed. Anything would hurt less. He would embrace the curse for ten thousand years if he could just feel her touch now. He forced himself to blink away the tears that blurred her face, intent on memorizing it one last time. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she said. “I love you. And I love you. And I love you. And I love you. And even if you forget me–”

“I won’t,” he replied, resolute. 

“And even if you forget me,” she pressed again, more decisive this time, “I hope you feel how much I love you. I hope you feel it every day. I hope my love shields you, Dainsleif. I know you will step out into the world and fight for what is good, and what is right, and I will be there with you every step of the way. I hope my love can make your steps light. I hope it picks you up when you have fallen, and kisses your tears. I love you, Dainsleif, and even if you forget that, may you always feel it.”

The light shuddered. Heaving a desperate cry, he reached for her one more time. She kissed her fingertips, brushed them over his mouth, and then disappeared. 

—

Dainsleif woke up the next morning in Rukkhadevata’s bed with no memory of how they returned. Maybe it was a dream. Perhaps the Aranara and the vision were all tricks born from grief. With a groan, he clapped a hand over his swollen face and rubbed at sore eyes. The bangles jingled and collided with his nose. 

Wait. 

He launched himself upright. In the faint light creeping between the curtains, not one, but two bangles jangled on his wrist: a gold mushroom bracelet and a corresponding silver lotus one. 

—

Centuries wore on. 

Like an old house, his memory cracked, peeled, collapsed to dust. Only bits and pieces remained. Ironic. He distantly recalled talking about erosion with Rukkhadevata. How strange it was that he, not she, now dealt with its full repercussions. He could no longer fully recall all his travels with Lumine, nor their fall out, nor Khaenri’ah. Takama and Abeni and Jyoti and Torsten’s faces blurred in his mind. He couldn’t even place what Lord Alberich looked like until he spotted his descendent, Kaeya Alberich. The two looked very similar. It was really uncanny. He ran across Lumine’s twin, Aether, and shared what little he felt comfortable sharing. Everything ran in circles, it seemed. Hadn’t Rukkhadevata told him about something like that? What was the word, ‘samsara’? He didn’t remember that, either. 

All he knew was he couldn’t rest until the Abyss Order was defeated. Celestia and the Archons and the Abyss took everything from him, but that didn’t mean he could sit back and allow them to destroy everything else. Every time he sat to breathe, the bangles on his wrist would clink together under his armor and remind him of all he fought for. 

Yes. There would be no more red skies. There would be no more tragedy wrought by the hands of Celestia, nor despair. Dainsleif woke every morning, kissed his fingers, pressed it to the scar on his shoulder, and pressed on.

—

One morning, Dainsleif woke with the all-too-familiar sense that he’d forgotten something. 

This happened regularly now. It had scared him once. The feeling of your mind slipping away was terrifying, to be sure. But Dainsleif had this bone-deep certainty that something was pressing him on, guiding his hand and keeping him sure. It kept him sane when all else felt lost. 

He got up. Something jingled on his wrist. Confused, he lifted his arm, peeling the objects off. A gold bracelet with mushrooms on each opening and a matching silver one with lotuses were there. 

“Where did you come from?” he murmured. How bizarre. He wasn’t given to jewelry; centuries wandering and seeking out the Abyss Order hardly lent themselves to such frivolities. Still, here they were. They looked like something from Sumeru. When was the last time he’d visited? Why would he have picked them up? He struggled to place it. Had Takama bought them for him? A woman had given him them, right? Maybe a Sage? Didn’t he get one of these as they were leaving? An official had handed him these, right? Abyss take him, why was it so impossible to remember?

Well, nevermind. Dainsleif went to stow them in his pocket and thought better of it. There was the possibility that they’d get lost. If they were so important that he’d kept them on even in his sleep, he supposed they were important enough to keep there. He popped them back on, peeled himself out of his thin cot, and went to the river to wash up. 

It was a cool day in Sumeru. The rainforest smelled fresh and clear. Birds hopped from tree to tree, singing; leaves rustled loudly against one another. He peeled off his shirt and leaned forward over the river bank, scrubbing his face and arms and shoulders with clear water. He worked over his muscles, and–

His thumb caught on a strange ring on the soft skin near his neck. Dainsleif paused, running his fingers around and around the marks. Teeth? Was this scar caused by teeth? How? When? He lingered on the edge of the riverbank, willing himself to remember. There was no way it was a combat scar. No one would’ve gotten close enough to puncture his uniform. Besides, then he would have repairs on that spot, and that wasn’t the case. 

Whatever his mind didn’t know, his body did. As he touched the scar, his heart thumped hard in his chest. Peace like a blanket descended on his shoulders. Dainsleif shut his eyes and relished its warmth. The memory in his body felt like laughter in a hushed room; it felt like a kiss he couldn’t remember; it felt like being tangled up in the arms of a lover. Last of all–and strongest–it felt like someone waiting in the doorway for him. It felt like a shield around him. It felt like love, love, love, a Love he both did not remember and could never forget. He tilted back his head and breathed in deeply. 

“Alright,” he whispered to no one, to the vanished memory of someone he still loved, to whoever it was that the world had now forgotten. “You and me. We can do this. Til the end of the line, my love.”

Dainsleif dressed himself. He packed up his campsite, obscured any sign he was ever there, and headed out. The bracelets pressed against his skin from under his bracers, and it felt right.

#A Sun Long Gone #ASLG #Genshin Impact #Genshin Dainsleif #genshin rukkhadevata #Dainsleif x Rukkhadevata #Dainsleif fanfic #greater lord rukkhadevata #Rukkhadevata fanfic #my writing

[ikesenhell]

A Sun Long Gone

You can find all masterlists at the top of my page (AO3, Genshin Impact, Ikemen Sengoku, and Ikemen Vampire).

MASSIVE FOREWARNING: THIS WORK INVOLVES GRIEF AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. While I personally consider it worth it (particularly the epilogue), if you're incredibly averse to sad themes, consider that it may not be the work for you. It also has adult sexual themes and should be considered 18+. Links in the masterpost will bring you to my AO3 as priority, but the Tumblr links do exist on it now! See the end of this chapter for further notes on this chapter/work.

This work mostly takes place before the Cataclysm and should NOT be considered spoiler free!! I cannot even think to list all the things that might be spoiled in this, but chief among them: the ending of the Sumeru Archon Quest (iykyk), Caribert allusions, potentially details about Khaenri'ah and its fall, etc. I am actively choosing to ignore the canon Rukkhadevata appearance in favor of making her more Indian. ---

Further on in life–much, much later, past the Cataclysm and the fall of all he’d ever known, when his memory lay in tatters and all but faded–Dainsleif still remembered that one strange fall. Even in Khaenri’ah, the air was warm and still. The stone surrounding them usually chilled this time of year, bonfires everywhere in the city warming their frigid bones. 

Dainsleif still remembered in perfect detail when he got the missive. He stood panting in the training yard, wiping sweat from his brow. The royal messenger was smiling. 

“Me?” Dainsleif repeated. “Why me?”

The messenger paused. Not many dared to question King Irmin, nor the orders relayed on his behalf. “You were specifically requested. Since this is a long journey and Lord Alberich himself is going to meet with the Dendro Archon, His Highness felt it only made sense for you to attend to him with all pomp. Sumeru is a large and wild land. Your capabilities merited the honor.”

Dainsleif wanted to ask who is being left in charge of the troops, exactly? ‘Capabilities meriting the honor’, his ass. He was the Twilight Sword of Khaenri’ah, not a bodyguard, and certainly no diplomat’s muscle or showpony. Besides, he had precious little respect for Archons. The idea of dressing in full regalia (for three months!) just to bend the knee before another nation's God? He couldn’t stop a quiet, derisive laugh. 

Blinking, the messenger said, “Sir?”

“Nothing,” Dainsleif replied. An order was an order. He had no real grounds to argue. “Tell his Highness I’ll be prepared when the delegation is ready to leave for the surface.”

The messenger bowed and scrabbled away, all but fleeing the training grounds. Mood thoroughly soured, Dainsleif turned back toward the training dummies and drew his sword once more. If he had any luck at all, this Sumeru mission would be quick and without incident.

—

Khaenri’ah’s unseasonable warmth was nothing compared to Sumeru. If it weren’t for the weather, he might’ve even liked the country. Green, green, green stretched out as far as he could see. Flowers exploded in shades of red and yellow and purple and pink and blue. Massive leaves rustled overhead like a song. Dazzlingly plumed birds called between trees larger than he’d ever imagined. 

But the weather? He’d rather go eight rounds against their largest Field Tiller than deal with another hour of this.

Dainsleif knew adjusting to the sunlight would be unpleasant. They’d scheduled that into their itinerary–a moment to stop and allow them all to rest in the shade, eyes shut, blinking against the unnatural bright. It always gave him a headache. And, yes, to an extent, he’d been warned about how much warmer it would be. 

But no one told him about the humidity . Within an hour, the entire diplomatic caravan had stripped to the last layer of clothing. Breathing in felt like swimming. He tied back his hair and pinned up his bangs and even then, everything stuck to his face. Damned Archons. Damned heat. Damned sunlight. He would’ve taken the dry heat of a desert over this a thousand times. The guide Sumeru provided–a ranger with golden hair and golden, long ears, and a long, golden tail–struggled openly against laughter. 

“Don’t forget to drink water,” the guide coaxed. “You’ll need the hydration.”

He couldn’t be too mad at the reminder. Dainsleif uncorked his water bottle for the thousandth time and sighed, “You seem used to dealing with clueless people, miss…?”

She grinned. A fox-like row of razor sharp teeth greeted him. “Takama. The name’s Takama. The Valuka Shuna, my people, have had to adapt rapidly to the rainforest. Our subsequent knowledge makes us well-suited to helping… visitors.”

“Idiots,” Dainsleif corrected. “You mean idiots like us.”

Takama leaned back her head and laughed, a skip in her step. “I’d never say that! Our Lady is the Archon of Wisdom, after all. Learning is a gift at any stage.”

It took all his strength not to snap. Archon of Wisdom? Khaenri’ah had done just fine without one of those. Learning was hardly the property of a random god. But he liked Takama. She was fun, and full of knowledge and laughter, and he didn’t feel like offending someone who’d done him no wrong. He just sighed and picked at his damp, sweaty shirt. 

“It’s only a little bit to the city,” she offered, sensing his thoughts. “And don’t worry. We’ll let you all have a rest, a bath, and an opportunity to change before you get before Her Lordship.”

—

In spite of the miserable air, Sumeru City was a marvel. 

Where did he look first? There were hundreds of stalls with a rainbow of goods; the heady scent of spices and delicious food was thick on the wind; throngs of people in every color imaginable pressed through the market, bartering and bargaining and yelling their greetings. Half a dozen people shouted good tidings to Takama alone. Stained glass cast patterns on the paved streets. Khaenri’ah had technology, certainly, but Dainsleif couldn’t help but gawk at the beauty. 

Their quarters were no less beautiful. Rich wood paneled walls smelled like the forest. Lord Alberich took the larger quarters, but Dainsleif was more than pleased with his. There was a window that overlooked a vast swath of the forest. Gigantic, blue mushrooms glowed in the distance. He could see the peak of Dragonspine and the peaks of Jueyun Karst, tiny in the faraway. Dainsleif took a moment just to stand in the cool air and stare. 

But he wasn’t here to sightsee. He had a duty to perform. Groaning at his uniform (it would be insufferably warm, but there were no alternatives), Dainsleif dressed himself to greet the Archon and exited his room. 

Lord Alberich was already in the hallway. Dainsleif had seen him in the throne room or beside the king, but they’d never spoken. He was an undeniably regal figure. With long, tied back blue hair and icy eyes, Lord Alberich always looked like he was hunting for some invisible quality, evaluating you against some unknown measurement. Now was no exception. He gave Dainsleif a once-over. 

“Have you evaluated the rest of our guards yet?”

“I will once all are assembled. It was only right that I give them a few minutes to wash up.”

The other man nodded. Takama appeared in the hallway, too, a smile on her face. “That’s a lot of layers you’re both wearing.”

Lord Alberich blinked in surprise, unaccustomed to such open critique. Dainsleif just sighed and shrugged, fixing where his cloak lay. “I’ll be sure to go back in time and tell the designers to evaluate our clothes against a different nation’s climate.”

Taking the half-joke in stride, Takama shrugged right back at him, imitating his mannerisms. He nearly laughed. “It looks like the rest of your men gathered outside. Ready to meet the archon?”

Damnable archons , he thought to himself, and said nothing. Lord Alberich nodded. 

“Take us before Lord Rukkhadevata,” he said. “We are more than ready.”

—

For the rest of his life, Dainsleif would never free himself of this moment. 

The Sanctuary of Surasthana was darker than he expected. Green and blue light pulsed gently, ghostly illusions of trees and leaves and vines filling the interior. Ornate glasswork glimmered. And as the Khaenri’ahn delegation entered, Dainsleif behind Lord Alberich’s right shoulder, he had a perfect view of the woman in the center, flanked by a half dozen others in colorful garments.

He didn’t need to hear who she was. He knew . The aura that surrounded her was unmistakable. Bright green eyes nearly glowed against her dark skin and the white hair that ran in wild torrents to her ankles. Henna decorated every bit of her hands and forearms, her feet and even her fingernails. Gold and emerald jewelry adorned her hair and nose and ears and fingers and wrists and legs. She jingled when she moved. Flowers trailed along the hem of her wrapped dress. 

“Lord Alberich,” Lord Rukkhadevata called. Her voice was a song, and the scent of her perfume–a blend of what he later knew as oud and jasmine–surrounded them. “My deepest greetings. Please, come forward to me. I hope your journey from Khaenri’ah was tolerable?”

“Of course,” Lord Alberich replied, granting her a bow. To her credit, Lord Rukkhadevata smiled and bowed right back, matching his depth. “Your city is beautiful, and the guide provided was very knowledgeable.”

“Ah, Takama! She’s lovely.” As if to underscore the point, Lord Rukkhadevata smiled and waved at Takama. “I am pleased you find it so amenable. And as for the rest of your visit…”

The pleasantries buzzed away into white noise. Dainsleif tried to focus, to drag his mind back to a place he knew. But her eyes . Every now and then, the Archon’s eyes would flit over to his and his brain would fizzle into silence. Her whole being was a riot of color and flowers and artwork. One of her palms was decorated with a detailed imitation of the tree Sumeru City sat on; the other, an immaculately detailed pyramid. He tried to focus on that and not the way she kept looking at him.

“I understand you’ll be visiting my ministers tomorrow to discuss trade.”

“Yes. We have a few action items to evaluate. Will you not be joining us, Lord Rukkhadevata?”

“Unfortunately, no. Tomorrow is the Sabzeruz Festival. My people would be very unhappy with me if I didn’t attend.” She laughed, a rich, full sound. “It’s a celebration of my birthday, as it happens.”

“Ah! Well, what a wonderful occasion.”

“It is. I have no doubt the Sages you’ll meet with will bring you to our traditional Haft-Mewa feast once you’re done, and I will certainly be there. But if I could entice some of your retinue you could spare to join me for the tiger’s share of the festival, I’d be more than pleased to be their guide.”

Lord Alberich nodded. “And we would be honored. This is Sir Dainsleif, our Twilight Sword. Dainsleif?”

It was only well-entrenched soldier’s instincts that overrode his inclination to say no . “Sir?”

“Would you mind attending to Lord Rukkhadevata for the Sab… Sub…”

The Archon didn’t laugh. She simply prompted gently, “Sabzeruz.”

“The Sabzeruz Festival,” Lord Alberich finally managed. “I think Khaenri’ah would be honored to represent ourselves during such an important event, and since I will be indisposed…”

It wasn’t a question. Dainsleif knew that. He wasn’t being offered an opportunity to volunteer, he was being volun-told. And as much as he hated every part of this–attending to an archon , being separated from the subject he was supposed to guard, being thrust into a position where he was now unnecessarily close to someone he found unnecessarily beautiful–he had no options. Instead, he supplied the traditional salute: heels together, fist to his chest. “Of course, sir.”

Lord Rukkhadevata shot him a blinding smile. “I’m looking forward to it. Also, Lord Alberich, if you don’t mind terribly, I’d like to provide you all a gift of new clothing. I suspect that our climate will be intolerable to you. Would you mind wearing it tomorrow? I won’t be offended if you say no.”

“We will be honored.”

Dainsleif said nothing. The whole affair irritated him. They were now agreeing to get rid of their clothes, covered in the iconography of their homeland? Sent us here to bend a knee to an archon , he repeated in his head, and even when he was back in the supplied room, tucking into a delicious meal a chef dropped off for them, all he could think of was those bright green eyes and that pretty smile. 

It annoyed him to his core.

—

Takama all but barged into his room at daybreak, new clothes slung over her arms. Dainsleif was already up, mercifully, doing his morning exercises. That didn’t stop him from drawing a sword on her out of reflex. 

“Ooh! That was quick!” She said, tapping it away from her. “Your training pays off.”

“Don’t barge into people’s rooms and you won’t get a weapon pointed at you,” Dainsleif retorted. Damn woman. He was going to miss her; she was fun. “Don’t do that to Lord Alberich.”

“I’m an asshole, not stupid. I handed his clothes to an attendant. I chose to bother you.” Takama offered him that pointy grin and unfurled a navy and bright blue coat, motioning to him. “Come on. I’m here to help you get changed.”

“I can dress myself.”

“Sure, sure, and I can operate one of your big machines.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m sure you could , but it’ll be faster if I help. I’ll show you.”

The long coat was called a sherwani , Takama said. There were thin, comfortable pants to wear with it, a lightweight shirt, and a long, yellow, stole-type-thing she called a dupatta and flung over his left shoulder. It was so finely embroidered that it seemed to float in thin air. Dainsleif marveled at all the details: the Khaenri’ahn star, prominent in the center. Tiny Field Tillers walked along the edges. Geometric patterns delicately wove through the negative space, invoking parts of his homeland he’d never thought too deeply about. 

“Who made these?” He asked, running a thumb along the edges. “They’re beautiful, but it seems like whoever made them–”

“We sent a weaver with our last diplomat to Khaenri’ah,” Takama explained, patting him on the shoulder. “And they were very inspired. It was exciting for him to hear you all were coming; he really wanted to make something you all would like.”

Dainsleif couldn’t help but smile. “I do like it. Thank you. But I hope you realize I’m still bringing my sword–”

She held up a leather strap and snapped it. “Lo and behold, you Lummox. One step ahead of you. We assumed you’d want that. Now turn around and hold up your arms.”

At the end of Takama’s attention, Dainsleif blinked in the mirror. His hair had been tamed back into a sleek ponytail, rings on his fingers. They’d even supplied him with a necklace forged in the symbol of the Khaenri’ahn star. It even complimented his half mask. Takama fixed him with a smug, distinctly foxlike, smile. 

“And you’ll be just on time. Come on. I’m here to take you to Her Lordship. You’ll be spending the day with her.”

Ugh. Damn Archons. Dainsleif took a split second to wish that he’d gotten to enjoy the festival alone, just another person in the streets of Sumeru. But there was nothing for it. He was here as an extension of King Irmin and Lord Alberich, and he needed to behave accordingly. He shoved down his complaints and followed Takama outside. 

The streets of Sumeru City were choked full of people. Flowers and banners hung from every surface. Someone shoved a sack of toasted, spiced nuts into his hands; another person thrust a tall glass of sweet-smelling liquid toward him. Takama laughed when he accepted both. He nearly spilled it on his dupatta twice when they ascended the slopes up to the Akademiya. 

Lord Rukkhadevata was waiting in front of the double doors, barely visible in the rush of well-wishers and civilians clamoring for a glimpse. What a different world. Dainsleif shoved his irritation aside (why did all these good people have to show an archon so much to-do over their birthday?) and followed Takama into the crowd. Come to think of it… the part of him that recognized this was someone’s birthday kicked in. He didn’t have a gift. Did people in Sumeru exchange gifts? Did someone bother giving a gift to an archon? Surely archons had no need for things like that. 

“Our Lordship!” Takama shouted, and shoved someone aside to gain access. “I brought your guest.”

As lovely as she’d been yesterday, she was twice so today. Dainsleif choked back a reverent ‘ oh ’. Her hair was immaculately braided and pinned up. Her jewels had been exchanged for another set, dripping from her wrists and neck and updo. Her white dress–a sari , he learned later–was meticulously embroidered with every flower and tree Sumeru boasted. Her hooked nose and gold skin and bright green eyes and everything, everything about her was needlessly beautiful. Lord Rukkhadevata turned her head and shot him a smile, and Dainsleif shivered in the unnatural warmth. 

“Sir Dainsleif!” She called. “Wonderful to see you here. Happy Sabzeruz Festival. Are the clothes to your liking?”

“Happy Sabzeruz Festival,” he replied. He’d practiced it under his breath three times beforehand and would die before admitting it. “Yes, they’re wonderful. Thank you. Err, do people in Sumeru exchange gifts on birthdays?”

The Archon paused, tilting her head at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we do in Khaenri’ah, and it is your birthday, so…” Dainsleif offered her the cup and nuts he’d been handed. “I realized I didn’t come with a gift. So it isn’t much, but hopefully you like these.”

And Lord Rukkhadevata smiled. Taking the offered items, she cracked open the bag and popped some of the snack between her lips. She then leaned her nose into glass, inhaling deeply. “This is Mahua alcohol. Have you ever had it?”

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“Well then. I’d love to share it with you, my guest. Would you mind splitting a glass with me?”

“If it’s amenable to me, sure. I’d never say no to a good liquor.”

He’d never invoked the Archons for strength before, but the way she laughed had him consider it. “Of course, only if it’s amenable.”

—

Years later, Dainsleif couldn’t say he remembered the entirety of the day. Truthfully it became a blur of color and food and sound and celebration and flower petals. He’d never seen such a crowd and such a lively festival. It was as if the entire country rose up with their Archon. The only parts he remembered clearly–so clearly that he could still lie back and feel it–were the moments when he and Rukkhadevata passed that single glass back and forth, fingers brushing under the canopy litter they rode in. When he arrived back at his room that night, exhausted and full, thoughts of those beautiful eyes followed him into dreamland.

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Postscript: While Rukkhadevata does technically have a canon design, I am choosing to ignore it! I am a white author myself and I am far from an expert on anything related to India/ME/SWANA or Desi fashion particularly, and since Sumeru is based off a mix of a bunch of different countries and is a fantasy version besides all that, I've tried to take (non offensive) liberties based off my non-exhaustive research. Please let me know if I need to correct something. Many thanks to my friend Naga for directing me toward even more resources and providing feedback.

Additionally: I'm having a lot of fun envisioning Takama as an ancestor of Tighnari's! That feels very correct. Re: Takama's design choices. I did a lot of googling about Amazigh people (because I'd admittedly forgotten that Tighnari is based off them, RIP ME) and did a little bit of alteration to the way Tamaka dresses! A lot of the references involved coin-like objects on the forehead band, but since Mora seems to be the only global currency, I wasn't sure how that would pan out. I swapped the detail to beads because I saw some of the Amazigh forehead bands utilized those, too. Please let me know if this is objectionable.

#Genshin impact #genshin dainsleif #genshin rukkhadevata #genshin impact fanfic #dainsleif x rukkhadevata #my writing #a sun long gone #ASLG #ASLG now sounds like ASLUG in my head so I apologize for everyone now forced to use it as an abbreviation #dainsleif fanfic #greater lord rukkhadevata #rukkhadevata fanfic