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neosero · 6 months

Text

[ 01:15pm ]

and sometimes you have to remind yourself they’re gods

p.ii | fontaine version

word count | 7.5k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; excessive use of the word ‘you’ sorry lol; rushed fiction; dark themes [ ? ]; violent/gory descriptions [ ? ] ( venti ); false descriptions of the archon war, implied kidnapping ( zhongli ); false post-cataclysm descriptions; inazuma spoilers for new players ( ei ); implied sag!au ( nahida ); version 3.2 spoilers and beyond ( special mention o.o );

if you find any of these warnings uncomfortable scroll away. viewer discretion is advised.

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 1.5k+

Venti had always been known to chug down one too many kegs of wine when given the chance.

Although he slurs about the price going to his tab, it is always you who has to fix up every mess. Whether it be ending fist fights, pleading with angry bartenders or paying half his tabs in compensation, the guy really knows how to ruin someone’s night.

“It wasn’t my fault this time.” Venti’s whining starts right off the bat, not caring that you have barely made it any distance from the bar. It's clear with the way he stumbles that he has long since past his limit. Your arm securely holds him by the shoulder opposite of you, an attempt to steady his wobbly footing although the sigh from his lips tells you he believes the touch is something else.

“I don’t need your excuses, Barbatos.” Your words are hushed but still harsh. His body deflates at the sound of his name used in such a tone, however he still refuses to relent.

“I promise you it wasn’t me who started it. The guy was…mouthing about everyone in there; he started saying nasty stuff about Brook’s drinks, called my music terrible and he then started…” saying things about you.

Well the guy attempted to until Venti stood from his stool, the force of the movement - or so he explained - must have tipped the drink over and spilled all over the poor guy’s clothes. Of course he got angry, who wouldn’t but when he started shouting about payment that’s when things took a turn. When Venti declined and left to grab another bottle the guy rushed him. It wasn’t his fault the guy was so drunk he missed the swing and stumbled off so badly he tripped and broke his nose. But it wasn’t like you were gonna believe a word coming from his mouth, he’s played the intoxicated card too much for it to have just been an accident this time around.

“I know you pushed him.” He opens his mouth to retort, “I know you pushed him because candles just don’t blow out within a closed bar with no windows, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because that man explained it felt like he was being shoved into the ground when he fell, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because this has been the same story with you for the last three weeks! By the gods, what has gotten into you?”

You’ve both gotten far enough from Springvale to talk freely, but hearing your voice carry in the winds of the quiet forest hurts a lot more than being scolded in front of the dozen or so citizens. You come across an abandoned supply wagon and take this as a moment to stop. By helping Venti up the back of the wagon to sit on its edge, you take the time to look him over. It is always surprising how he comes back unscathed from every encounter; not a single hair out of place, nor smudge of cheap alcohol anywhere on his clothes or lingering scent of said alcohol anywhere in the air - only noticeable when close enough to his lips. Venti sways in his seat, head hung low like a child who's been told off by their parents and sometimes it feels like just that. You sigh.

“I’m not upset with you.” The change in your tone makes his head raise and a noticeable color return to his face.

Yeah, just like a child.

“I just wish you’d fix whatever you have going on with you right now. I have a lot on my plate as is with the Knights of Favonius and getting everything I can with that Snezhnayain diplomat. I had to leave a meeting that could have been a pivotal breakthrough with them today because of you!”

You don’t see it with how you fix the legs of your armored plating, but Venti rolls his eyes. He knows about the plans of the Cryo Archon. He knows a lot more than what he lets on to the traveler or anyone else who inquiries about the matter; there's a reason he normally steers clear of the Adventures Guild’s Katherine. Still the more he relays the information to you, warnings upon warnings of caution, you don’t listen. It is demeaning knowing what little trust you have for your own god, let alone having to continue this conversation every night.

“...and you might not take this seriously, Venti, but it's really disappointing.”

“You're more disappointed that I ruined date night.” Venti had tried to hold it in, he really did but hearing you praise that woman Signora over giving praise to your own archon would make any one of Celestia’s chosen snap. He stands then, the most sober movement he has had all night and you scoff.

“Oh may Celestia take me now! This again? For the last and final time I am simply working with the women. It’s my job and whatever I do shouldn’t matter to you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you are a god!” The winds pick up, there is a clear green gleam in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “People offer prayers to you daily. They work and celebrate all in your name. You used to split mountains, Barbatos…What I do should be insignificant to the eyes of someone like you: our supposedly high and mighty deity.”

“It's high time you act like it.”

There is a heavy thudding in the distance, you turn around missing the clear shake in Venti’s hands. The wind rages on stirring the clouds above but you don’t care as you catch sight of a Mitachurl barreling in your direction. Clearly your shouting stirred it somehow and with how fast it's charging there is no room to run.

You draw your sword and stand in front of Venti as protection, “Damn. We’ll continue this later.” He’s gone quiet and when you dare to look away from the charging beast to see your archon, your skin runs cold. He’s bleeding in his right hand, fist balled so tight he shakes as he breaks skin and it runs down to evaporate before it hits the ground. His lyre rests in his left but it's different; the strings, once a vibrant glow of green, run a deep dark red almost the same color as the blood on his skin.

“Vent-” you begin to call out but the words are cut off by the heavy shout before you. You turn your neck quickly to see the Mitachurl with its ax raised high, about to strike. When had it gotten so close? You brace yourself ready to hold off the blunt force as best you can, turning again to shout for Venti to move.

But he strums his first note.

This sound is far different then what you’re used to. What was once a gentle, harmonic strumming of a lyre blessed in the winds, now feels dissonant. The sound is a deep vibration one that could only be described when hitting the wrong keys at the end of a piano in quick concession. A sound you feel breach into the roots of your lungs and pry out all the air you have stored.

You can’t breathe.

The sword falls from your hands as you frantically clutch your chest. Your legs wobble and your head is hammering, the need to breath is overwhelming but with every harsh breath you take in it all seems to be sucked out.

“Barbat-”

“You want a god. I’ll show you god.”

Barbatos strums his second note.

This sound has a higher pitch, the noise most quickly catches you as that of a violin when you bring it’s bow down with a little too much pressure against the wrong chord. There’s a force to this note, one you must assume was the same the guy at the bar felt as you are shoved into the wagon. The force of the blow leaves you more winded then you were before. All your strength feels drained from your body and your knees give out. There is no time to recover though…

Not when Lord Barbatos pulls at his third and final string.

You don’t register this one, the ringing in your ears and overall loss of oxygen leaving you closer and closer to the brink of unconsciousness. Even so you watch him toy with the string. The wind has picked up and now you notice the Mitachurl raised in the air, it struggles with its head thrashing about. Venti turns to you, a smile crazed and eyes dim.

Then he lets the string go.

It's hard to watch. Wind isn’t a visible thing, but in this very moment you pinpoint just where the breeze shifts and changes as it tears through the beast limb from limb. Arms and legs twist and bend, its chest constricts slowly and its head rotates like an owl with a chorus of loud cracks of bones; if it wasn’t for how close you feel to the brink of death yourself you know the sounds of the snapping and screams would have killed you alone. Barbatos stares still.

It doesn’t last long, the sheer horror of it all ends quickly as the Mitachurl is compressed into the origin of the tornado it's caught in until it blows in a rain of blood. The loss of oxygen finally gets to you as your eyes drift but not before seeing the finale of your oh so mighty deity.

He stands unmoving as the blood pours down in a shower along his face, eyes now closed, “disappointed in your god now?”

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.6k+

Six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

A long and painful four-thousand years of battle over a couple seats at the throne that was already predetermined. Four-thousand years wasted away killing friends and family and loved ones for power they themselves now wish to throw away. A lot of gods didn’t want to be a part of this…holy massacre - or whatever these scholars wish to paint it as - and you were one of them. You were given many names for your time: Theia, Anthos, Gia. The only thing that remains certain within all books of history is your ability to create elemental stones.

Ascension silver, within today’s terms, was a skill none could manage; for being a god who could bond to a multitude of elements at once was beyond even the original seven of Celestia. The gems you produced offered various needs opposed to the power of visions; pyro silver for warmth, hydro silver to be shattered and give rain, geo crystals for fortitude in times of terrible weather, dendro crystals to fertilize plants, cryo silver to cool in the warmer weathers and electro silver to strengthen weapons for combat. It all could be found in the midst of your domain.

Your domain resided in the Huaguang Stone Forest, within the underbelly of Mt. Aocang. It was just a large hollowed cave filled with crystals and home to a small community of humans. They traded off the crystals you produced, for food and supplies, holding festivals and village gatherings under your name. When they needed protection, your crystal walls provided and the Vishaps, organic creatures of your creation, helped protect those from outside.

All was good, all was at peace.

Until six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

Tremors grew in both number and extremity over time. Your people starved and scared as trade drew to a halt and more and more outsiders flocked for your domain for protection. The energy of fellow gods and people you once thought would grow old together die out like the stars one by one. However, within your domain all was good, all was at peace, all was protected.

Or so you thought until you met Rex Lapis, the self proclaimed God of Geo, four-thousand years ago during the Archon War.

He requests your assistance, he speaks of monsters and demons emerging from the earth of Guili Plains and that without you they would consume the earth and all within it. You were hesitant to believe him, not when he stormed in covered in the blood of gods and an army of yaksha armed tooth and nail to your fortress of peace. When you speak of the wellbeing of your people he promises to ensure their safety with a few of his yaksha, but when you question him further its General Musatas who warns you to watch your tongue when speaking to one of the chosen seven. Thinking back about it now that should have been the first sign of danger; putting your trust in a god fighting to be apart of the corrupt Celestia. But your people needed more help than what you could provide alone, and you still young and naive wanted to believe that the word of the god of gods was absolute.

So you leave and for a thousand years you fight for a cause you thought to be pointless. You watch gods die, your crystal shields only doing so much in the onslaught of war. Whenever you came close to being wounded it was Morax who protected you from harm time and time again. Taking the blunt force of claws and the heavy pummeling from Osial, all to keep you from harm's way. You had thought it was admirable…if only that same persistence was there for Guizhong.

When she perished on the battlefield you all were pushed back. In a last stand against the enemy you took hold at Mt. Tianheng, and it was there we prospered. Rex Lapis’ sheer power and battle strategy in command of the adeptus and five general yaksha pushed through for the victory and settlement of Liyue. It was then the god of contracts requested a binding: all remaining adeptus would stand to protect Liyue if danger ever stirred once again.

And once again you were a fool to trust the words of the god of gods.

For the others were allowed to roam as they pleased until called upon and you were to remain within Liyue Harbor forever at the side of your god Rex Lapis. He claimed it was for protection, your powers being the strongest he’s seen for a lifetime, however you could only recall being of no help to protect the ones you hold dear on the battle field.

You fight, complain and wrestle against his iron grip but the contract holds still. As the Harbor prospered and grew over the years, it left you with the stronger desire to see your people once again. A request with the yaksha would fall on deaf ears as they were still to handle the aftermath within the Plains, but when talk of corruption and madness spread among the masses you had feared the worst. Against your better judgment you left, you thought the wellbeing of your people is more important than the loyalty you have in some god.

When you return to the Stone Forest, you’re enveloped with a sense of home. You spot Cloud Retainer at the top of the peak, but she is gone before you can offer a wave. When you finally reach the door to your domain your heart drops. The Geovishaps who stand guard are nowhere to be found and the energy of your barrier left so long ago has run dry. Even with the clear signs, you still push forward and believe in the word of Morax.

Still so young and naive.

The domain is bathed in dried blood. There are bodies upon bodies of your people scattered along the floor, their blood painted over your crystals and the bodies of yakshas having killed everyone else looked to have turned against each other. Tears of pure silver fall from your eyes as you make way through your temple, a last ditch effort for hope of any survival…for anything.

Everything lays in shambles - crystal decoration of your own design shattered across the floor, Vishaps of all ages lifeless and unmoving just like the images of the gods all those years ago. What breaks you is what sits at your throne: the remaining villagers all curled together encased in a crystal prison. It was a skill you taught your strongest Vishaps just before your departure, never considering that they would need to use it you had no way of reversing its effects. You fall into a sob, pillars of crystals sprouting just where your tears meet the bloody ground. All hope is lost from you until you feel the looming presence of Rex Lapis.

At first, you're overjoyed.

He could somehow fix this. Given his ability to cleanse gods and shape islands with minimal effort, this could be done by the snap of a finger. You stand with some difficulty, the gems having crystalized at the bottom hem of your garments almost keeping you weighted to the floor as a warning. You pay no mind.

Then, all at once, you’re afraid.

When you reach him, smiling and happy for once to be in his presence, the weight around you feels heavy. The glare of Rex Lapis is stone cold, gold irises like slits of the dragon you witnessed decapitate so many of your old friends. The general Alatus to his left stands armed and ready, and to his right Cloud Retainer - one normally so proud and boastful, hangs her head low behind the god before her.

“You left.” His voice is calm, a stark contrast to the way he is looking at you. Glaring at you like the enemy. “Well yes.” You begin, a stutter to your voice, “the war has long since reached its close…and with n-no more danger I thought it would be alright to-”

“Danger is always upon us. You went against our agreement.” There's a bass in his voice that rocks a tremor through your body as well as the cave you reside in, its strength leaves Alatus to stumble his footing and Cloud Retainer to dip her gaze that much lower. You, however press on, “I had no plans to be gone long a-and with no word from my home I feared the worst. So I had to-”

His hand envelops your throat in an instant. Rough, scaled fingers grip tightly around you and when you make an effort to speak he squeezes harder. “You had to remain within the harbor. We had an agreement. You swore an oath to me, an oath that was never to be broken.” Frantic fingers grip at his hand, you try to pry him off of you but your body feels like it's being pulled by an unknown force that leaves you weak and him unmoving. He watches you struggle, and somehow in those eyes you see him pleased with the way you whither in his grasp.

“Should I take care of them, Master?” General Alatus’ mask envelopes his face, karmic energy flowing from his body. You shutter as his blade is brought to your sides. Rex Lapis turns his head swiftly, the first he’s looked away from you since he’s got here, and glares harder. In seconds the general is brought to the floor in a shout of pain. In the position he kneels, Alatus clutches the floor in a grip so tight you’d think he was trying to push against the heavy pull of the world’s gravity. “You will hold your tongue until I see fit for your suggestions, General.”

Alatus nods as best he can, body struggling just as much as yours to try and fight against the power of the god of geo. The glow of his scales dims, and the yaksha begins to breathe as he stands on wobbly legs. It is then the archon drops you. You swallow oxygen in desperately and cough it back out heavily as you gaze up at the man before you. When he reaches for you again, you scurry away but not far enough. This time he grasps your arm dragging you away breathless and reaching for what’s left of your home.

He scoffs at your sorry state, “your offense to me isn’t great, but you still will be punished for your disobedience.” You’re helpless to it all, too weak to challenge one of the chosen seven of Celestia. He snaps his fingers and just like all those years ago he takes you from your home.

Back then it was for a cause, an unspoken oath you had no idea would chain you to a man you don’t believe in; but now it's as a prisoner, a powerless god who watches their domain crumble right before your eyes.

THE ELECTRO ARCHON Raiden Shogun | wc. 1.1k+

“Leave us.”

For a moment, you think she sounds disappointed. The guards release you from your binds and you're quick to snatch your wrists away to rub the tender skin. They give stiff bows and with stiff, sharp pointed turns make way for the doors of the Shogunate’s chambers. When they leave the room, Baal and the kitsune Saiguu emerge from the panels behind the back of the throne. Baal is as calm as ever; she sits eyes closed, knees folded below her and her wagasa twirling in her slender fingers as if pondering something. Saiguu seems more openly displeased; her tail rests rigid behind her when she sits beside her own Shogun, she looks concerned as she scans your body and you notice she has left her cigarette holder behind.

You are in real trouble now.

Beelzebul had descended her throne before the guards even walked through the door. She paces in between you and her sister, her strides come to match the tempo of the thunder that increases in volume over the heavy rain from the outside world. When a particularly loud clash resonates through the skies, Baal stops her twirling. “Ei, you’re beginning to cause a stir amongst the people.”

She stops her pacing and so too does the thunder if only for a little. Beelzebul looks you over and it seems that fans her flame even more when her eyes rack over your body. Her gaze doesn’t match that of Saiguu’s though. “You’re wounded.” She finally speaks, it's more at you than to you. The wound is nothing serious, a small scratch to the arm that has left your garments a little bloody but it's really nothing that won't heal by the morning. She moves quickly for bandages, trying and failing to distract herself from imploding, but when she gets close with the adhesive you dodge around her touch.

The first clash of lightning strikes the seas.

Beelzebul sighs and stands, you watch the bandage begin to buzz and spark in her grasp. “Bleed out for all I care.” In an instant, the cloth blows and dissolves in a small show of flames. You flinch.

“Ei-” Baal begins again, her hair glows at the tips and you know she is fighting to calm the storm of emotion that continues to rage outside.

“What did you hope to gain by seeing her again at such a time? We are in the middle of a war of gods and you see it fit to chase a traitor.”

“Chiyo is no traitor!” You don’t mean to yell, but the way she spits the word ‘traitor’ has your blood boiling. Baal makes no effort to calm you down. “She had been trapped inside the belly of that beast for so long; months fighting her way from the inside out. That could turn anyone to madness…and when she finally emerges scared and confused you try to kill her.”

“She’s become crazed with madness. Something in that beast left with her and a blight like that can’t be cleansed. Saiguu knew the moment she saw her.” You break your gaze to look at the goddess.

Saiguu nods at you even without looking your way, “Not even a cleansing from the Sacred Sakura would have helped. Even being that close I could tell that blight ran deeper than her soul. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head vigorously. There had to be something you could do, even if that meant caging her within the temple for an eternity anything would have been better than more death. “There was something we could have done. I know it. Rukkhadevata would know something; she knows everything. Let me go to Sumera and-”

A dry chuckle bursts from Beelzebul, “It seems you might have been tainted by whatever she had. If you think you are in the right to start making requests now I can assure you it won’t happen. Have you forgotten the current situation: we are at war, not just us but all the gods. You were only lucky enough to get to the forests before I had to save you from that beast.” The air around you feels static. The hairs on your body raise and the wound on your arm feels like it’s being pinched every so often. “Why are you so adamant on leaving my protection?”

“Protection?! Your protection! You keep me imprisoned. I cannot see anyone but who you allow me too. I am followed constantly and whenever I so much as breathe in the direction of the outside world I’m dragged away. You keep me here shielded like some precious doll while everyone else fights.” Baal’s gaze meets yours behind her sister almost there to push you on. “I am a soldier to this nation before anything else and would rather take my chance out there than to live knowing I sat sheltered and protected like a coward with you here.”

Ei’s stunned. A storm ripples through her gaze and for a second you think those purple hues of clouds show shines of rain.

Instead lightning clashes before you.

The blunt end of her blade is brought to the heart of your chest in a flash. The feeling of its energy pulsing so close makes the tales of its power in battle sound underplaying, stray bolts of lightning bounce off it and reach in to rub under your clothed skin. You jolt. Saiguu makes an effort to stand but Makato raises her hand to halt her advance.

“If you wish to die so eagerly, I will strike you down here myself.”

It's clear she means it; having already slain and severely injured two of her closest friends there would be no hesitation if you had to be next. Makoto finally decides it's time to intervene, her fingers curl along her sister’s shoulder and although Ei doesn’t break away the energy pressing into your chest does decline in pressure if only for a second. “Pain doesn’t last an eternity.”

They don’t even look at each other when she speaks, she just holds her there. You think it has to be something only they could feel as twin gods and hope Makoto wins the internal battle. The sword dissolves in her grasp and you let go of the breath you had thought to be your last. “You're both hurting and you might fight it but it's for the same reason. Chiyo was dear to all of us, so were Sasayori and the others but we cannot let their deaths bring about our own. What would they have fought for? Have died for?” Ei brushes the hand from her shoulder and walks towards the balcony in long strides.

Makoto does nothing to stop her, choosing it best to let her storm settle on its own then to try and guide its course. She does turn to you, pleading you to understand — her sister only cares for the best of you. You don’t respond, staying glued to the floor while your mind tries to catch up to your heart. Ei pushes into the storm outside that leaves the doors rattling and a chill to the room. Tearing your gaze from the ground you look to your god, she now stands on the ledge head turned up towards the heavy rainfall. She looks almost strangely content with the chaos outside, you could still make out the rotting corpse of the great serpent in the distance. There is a pain bubbling from your gut as your heart still hammers in your chest. Is this the weight you must bear under the care of a god?

THE DENDRO ARHCON Lesser Lord Kusanali | wc. 1.5k+

“Tell me: what do you think shapes a dream?”

You should have known something was wrong the moment Nahida had requested to see you personally. This wouldn’t be the first time one of the archons has requested something like this from you, however Nahida’s tone of voice somehow puts you on edge. The way it echoes in the hollow room she had led you in racks a chill down your spine.

“A dream is made solely by your emotions.” You recall this from your psychology class, the professor was so invested in the topic it was kinda hard to forget. “Whatever fuels that of your wishes, memories and abstract thoughts all tie into what can shape a dream when you fall asleep.” You’ve recited that line so many times before that final exam and still remember being so pissed it was never even mentioned within the test. “However, the worries that rest in the back of your mind might also shift the course of a dream as well.”

“Hmm. I had never thought of it that way.” Nahida curls her hand under her chin thinking, “would that be the same case for a nightmare?”

“I would assume so…yes.” There is a piece you’re missing in the puzzle of questions. Her curiosity is hiding something else, something that you can’t picture right out but you do feel it with every passing second. “But why would someone try to sleep with negative emotions moving through their head?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you knew this is a virtual world you would have been fooled to see Nahida as the child that she is. Her small frame looks up at you expectantly; being the only person in her world to ever know more than that of her vast case of knowledge, she treats you much more like a new toy to play around with than as the high god everyone else believes you to be.

That in and of itself is both a blessing and a curse.

“Sometimes it can’t be helped.” You try to not think about it but you tell yourself this everyday now. “It’s something we can’t fight…the negative emotions, they are always with us because we never know what the future will hold.”

“It's all a random chance of time. One day, you could find yourself on the receiving end of a terrible storm, you could walk straight into dog poop with brand new shoes or you could even walk into a meeting with all your clothes inside out…One day you could lose a loved one, you could walk into a store and see your house in flames on the news, you could even-”

“Be trapped with no way home.” Your eyes widen. Nahida’s head is tilted ever so slightly, eyes squinted and you realize she is studying your reaction, “y-yeah you could.”

“Fascinating.”

You don’t even realize it but your voice waivers, “What is?”

Nahida looks away from you to her holo-screen behind her. With delicate fingers she swipes through files and documents you can’t catch sight of until her little fingers stop on one. You can make out the screen and it looks like a video. She taps it.

A screen materializes before you and the video plays. Image looks like the holding cells of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, but the person within the cell looks like no character you have seen in game at all. It isn’t like you remember every npc within this world, however, each character has similar features that make it obvious in telling who is who. Could this be a new character? There is no knowledge of them in recent patch notes.

Nahida’s voice startles you.

“Oh…you must be curious? This is user 804897112. Although the name he chose at the start was Starlord, his real name is Chris.”

What?

“It took him four weeks before he slipped up. They hadn’t noticed him as the Creator of that server yet but when he went around sprouting drunk nonsense about the Archon War at Angel Share things took a turn.” You haven’t been watching the screen, too caught up on understanding what Nahida had just said but the scream catches you off guard.

That person. That real life person, Chris, is chained and on his knees before Jean, Rosaria, Kaeya, Diluc and Venti. Kaeya’s sword is jabbed into Chris’ shoulder, Rosaria looks to be trying to get him to cough up any information he knows but you can’t hear anything. Did Nahida only want you to hear that screams? There is a troubled look on Jean’s face like she’s reluctant to continue this, but Venti says something that rouses everyone in the room and pales Chris’ skin. He’s crying now, snotty and nasty as Diluc beelines to him with his heavy blade.

Diluc’s greatsword raises and you gasped in horror as its brought down on Chris’ head. Out of sheer fear you clutch your own neck. Blood seeps out in a sparkle of gold and they all stand as stunned as you, the poor boy’s head tumbling over in the pool of it blood. The video ends there.

It’s hard to breathe and you're given no time to recover yourself as another plays. “This is user 119876532, Diana. She asked questions about Scaramouche’s true origins to the Shogunate. Knowledge no one should possess and again before the establishment of her identity as Creator.” This one carries no build and is from a farther angle atop a tree, like from the perch in the eyes of a bird, but it's all so vividly clear. The girl is tied to her knees before the shogun, spilling out words too quickly for you read and understand. There is no need to though, Ei is as calm as ever. She listen to Diana’s rambling, and for a second you think she might believe whatever she’s saying. Five seconds later, you watch Diana die in the same flash of lightning as La Signora.

You can’t stand now, legs given out in the horror of it all. The videos continue like this until you can’t bear to look at the screen anymore.

User 908765342 crushed by meteorite hurled by Zhongli. User 743828950 — Sam, found dismembered by a pack of hilichurls. Robert gets mauled by a geovishap. Lee can’t take it anymore and…

“Why?” The tears fall from your eyes in heavy waves. “Why show me all this? Why tell me about all these people? I don’t-”

It all connects in seconds: they found out about you.

You move to stand hurriedly and make a beeline for the exit but your feet stay planted to the floor with the sight before you. The Doctor stands grinning from ear to ear. He clasps his hands together with a sigh of glee. “You ask why and it’s simple: you survived.”

He’s on you in an instant, tightly holding your wrists in his hands and preventing your escape no matter how hard you thrash. He breathes into your neck harshly and you sob. He whispers breathlessly into your ear how he has never been this fascinated, this drawn to a specimen before and promises to be gentle in your dissection. Nahida watches you with wide interested eyes as you struggle in hope of saving yourself. You cry out to them, to your guards, to Lumine or Dehya or Thoma. To anyone who would hear you even though no one can. But still…

You scream.

Cyno breaks down your door, his gaze looking over the room hastily to find the culprit to dare stir the peaceful slumber of the Creator.

It was a dream? It was a dream and yet your wrists burn, the images of all those people looked so real.

Was this a sign? Would that happen to you if any of them ever found out? Have they already started to suspect something? What if you don’t ever get out of here? What if-

“Your grace?” Cyno’s hand brings you back to reality, hard. His fingers feel almost frozen over against the skin of shoulder and you flinch away in such a haste it brings crease to his brows. You almost question why he runs so cold but with him looking at you with so much concern you don’t think it's him that is the problem. “Do I need to go get Tighnari? I will only be a couple hours but I could stop by our Archons domain just so-”

“No!” Your voice is filled with fright, but it’s obvious that the sheer volume of your scream is what stuns him the most. You can feel the sweat run down your temple and the pound of your heart so aggressively in your ears. It takes you far too long to compose yourself but you are grateful that Cyno listens and just stands by your side.

“There is no need for all of that. I’m just a little shaken.” He doesn’t seem to take your word for it but when you explain that it was only a dream and not some illness that caused this he is partially relieved. “The doctor won’t be needed for this and it isn’t like this is something of his expertise.”

Cyno offers a quick nod before he settles in a chair at your desk. He shuffles closer to your bedside with a cross to his arms and a tense raise of his shoulders. You can’t blame him for staying alert; dreams are a new phenomenon within Sumeru and with the few months you have known him, you know Cyno doesn’t do well with handling business he cannot comprehend for himself.

It takes too long for you to finally get calm within the safety of your own bed, but it does help that Cyno — as loyal to you as he once was to the akademiya — stays by your side the whole night.

It gets hard trying to keep your mind from blurring the line between your life outside and the one within this game. Watching Cyno sleep next to you, the steady rise and fall of his chest is far too detailed for your sensitive mind to keep considering these people aren’t real people. A Sumeru rose, a gift handed to you by a child of the city, loses a petal and you watch the leaf fall then blow in a spark of pixels. You’ve been here too long.

You need to get out . . . and soon.

THE EVERLASTING GOD OF ARCANE WISDOM : Scaramouche | wc. 1.2k+

You should have known this could have been another one of the Doctor’s tricks.

You are privy to his experiments and know just about everything there is to know about his latest desires as a man of knowledge…but it seems you have gotten too relaxed within his presence to suspect that you were the next pawn to be sacrificed within this long orchestrated game.

Being left to go through with the final reports on the Balladeer’s status without his supervision should have been the first and only sign needed to show you something else was at play here. The Doctor was always to see everything himself, deeming everyone else — even you — inferior to his intellect and prone to time consuming slip ups. Why you would ever trust an order like this for its face value you will never know. But now you can tell it was a mistake.

The laboratory has been cleared on the orders of the Doctor, and yet you feel like you have been being watched ever since you have entered the building.

Since you entered Sumeru for the matter.

Pushing away the chills, you check the sixth harbinger’s vitals. Everything looks to be in order but that is to be as expected; the Doctor had said this could be close to being his greatest creation and that would obviously show in his work. You hum triumphantly and quickly move on to the next task. The body of the Prodigal is kept in a separate room, with how massive the final product came to be it was bound to happen. It is still mesmerizing to know how much raw power is stored within a gnosis on its own. Crazy how an item so small is able to create mass destruction in the world.

Everything seems in perfect shape when you finally reach the test sight. The distant hum of the overhanging lights do little to add any glory to the giant machine before you. Even without eyes its looming figure looks down upon you as if it can tell the significant power difference between you two. Dottore had told you it was nonsense; the Balladeer would be in a state of hypostasis until his body finally converges with the power of the electro gnosis. He couldn’t possibly be able to tell a slime from a hilichurl let alone know when anyone enters the room.

You find it — much like everything else that comes with interacting with the Doctor — demeaning. He undermines everyone and if it weren’t for his rank you'd have thought he was just too full of himself. His genius could be on a par with the dendro archon but that's something you’ll never admit even to the nicest of his segments.

Data shows that Scaramouche is still stable. The gnosis too somehow remains with a constant flow of energy as it diverts power to the main systems. It still eludes you how someone like Scaramouche can handle power as strong as this for as long as he has. Though you do not know the criteria of the ranking amongst harbingers, his order in the hierarchy holds true.

So caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed how close you had gotten to the body. If that presence was intimidating at a distance it pales in comparison to being up close. It towers above like the clock-house in Snezhnaya, arms and hands long and big enough to crush you whole. You shake your head from the thought.

Your hand reaches to touch the machine. The metal is cold to the touch but there is a sensation of static that travels along your arm the longer you linger there. By the time you move your hand away ready to depart to report back to Dottore, a sudden shock sparks from your hand. You pull it back with a wince. This must be an unforeseen side effect to the gnosis.

All at once your head throbs with white noise. It starts off faint but then rises to ring above all else. At first you believe it to be a faulty pipeline and look around for any signs of damage but yet again you see the perfectly unharmed lab. The sound is overwhelming and you can feel something pressing into the back of your mind. Memories not of your own flash before your eyes.

The sensations are too much to bear and you collapse when it's all too much at once. The moment you come too it feels different. The buzzing in your arm has spread throughout your body, and the noise that filled your mind is now gone, replaced by knowledge that leaves you weighted to the ground trying to understand it all.

The Balladeer…Scaramouche is…

“Was a puppet.” The voice is familiar and you cannot believe that its real. “A puppet that now wields a greater power than that of the god who chose to abandon him all those years ago.” He has ascended and so soon. Dottore’s notes were foolproof, everything down to the last decimal was precise so how could his hypothesis be false?

Scaramouche offers a snarl, and it's only now that you can register that he is inside your head with his reply, “because Dottore is a buffoon. He will always underestimate someone who he believes he could outsmart at any game, under any circumstance and do so without question. It’s that pride that will be his undoing in due time.” He walks around you, there are long pauses between every sentence and he speaks as if you will be overwhelmed by him just looking in your direction. You don’t know why you feel so grateful for it.

“Enough about him though.” He stops to kneel down to where you lay on the ground. His hand ever so delicately lifts your chin to meet his gaze and he gives you opportunity to look away. You don’t. “Let me see into you.”

Words filter through your head without him even needing to open his mouth. You’ve been connected to him by the soul, a pact between your compatible life force and his new godly abilities that were enforced the moment you touched him through the machine. You’ve been chosen as his first and whatever that entitles you don’t know but you do feel the tears roll down your eyes. Your mind cannot decipher if they are tears of joy or resentment of this new god.

Why are you calling him that?

Scaramouche wipes them away with a wicked smile. “No need for sorrow my chosen. For as your new god I will craft a world for you that leaves no room for those emotions to ever cross your features again. The Everlasting God of Arcane Wisdom will pave a way for your salvation and my glory to rise. So long as you put your faith in me and me alone.”

His hands fall from your face as he stands, but they still remain outstretched to you. The invitation hangs in the air and yet his smile never waivers like he knows what you will choose him over anything else. Like you will choose him over life itself.

And for a moment you think you will.

a/n: this is very dark of me and really shouldn’t be my comeback post but rewatching nahida’s introduction really had me in the mood to bring our archons back into the light. also yes i am formally back to writing so do expect more posts soon to come.

p/s: furina version will be up as soon as i catch up enough with her character.

#genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #raiden shogun x reader #nahida x reader #scaramouche x reader #[ gem’s timestamps — ⌚️ ]#again sorry this is so dark but i just had to get this off my chest #gonna be thinking about prodigal scara so much now #also welcome back me

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neosero · 3 months

Text

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

pt. ii Fontaine Version |

wc | 4.1k+ total

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

THE HYDRO ARCHON Focalors Furina | wc. 2.2k+

Have you heard…

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

The action brings a ripple through the pond.

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

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

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

"Yes, precisely."

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

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

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

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

When did this start?

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

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

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

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

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

And the worst had yet to come.

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

They are dissolving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she isn't ready to let you go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It just shows her how terrifyingly real it all is.

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

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

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

Neuvillette must be overworking himself again.

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

It's all so peaceful, until it isn’t.

“Furina.”

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

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

“Let me go, Furina.”

Her eyes water, just like before.

"I'm so sorry."

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

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

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

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

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

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

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Neuvillette | wc. 1.8k+

"Murderer!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've noticed them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whether right or wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were his irises always so narrow?

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

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

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

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