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holybananaoafshoe · 4 months

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Sneak peak

Hello! I had some brainrot on Klee and Keaya exploring Fontaine. I typed up a lil rough draft on my lunch break and I wanted to share it as a sneak peak before pounding out the rest!

Enjoy~

“No, no, no, nononononononononono--”

Almost in slow motion, Jumpy Dumpy rolled and bounced across the walkway. Keaya watched in muted horror as another small explosion rocked the inner city wall. Small pieces of stone flew past him, and flames blackened the once white stone.

“Jean is going to kill me,” Keaya whispered.

Screams echoed in the market. People jostled and bumped into him as they ran away. Billowing clouds of smoke rose high above the city wall. Pieces of robots were strewn across the road, and small fires broke out in stalls. A few shopkeepers grabbed buckets and ran to a nearby aqueduct to put out the fires.

A small figure clad in red slammed into his torso and hugged him tightly.

Klee pulled her tearstained face away from his shirt and cried, “Mister Keaya, I didn’t mean it! I promise, I just got so excited to see the robots! I’m trying really hard to be good.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Klee, I know it was,” Keaya said soothingly.

Normally, Keaya would be able to smooth over the misunderstanding quickly. It didn’t take much, just an explanation and some sweet talk. If the damage was more than usual, he’d offer some of his own mora as a small reparations payment and top it off with a promise to fix everything that was damaged.

Would that be considered bribery?

He winced as a chunk of the wall fell with a loud thud onto the blackened pathway.

Perhaps he’d find out sooner than expected.

The Courts of Fontaine were known to be unwavering in their pursuit of justice and relentless in finding the truth of the situation before demanding an equivalent punishment or retribution. Klee wouldn’t be spared from their system, no matter how much of an accident it was. Maybe he’s biased here, but Klee is a good kid. Deep down, she really means well. She’s just prone to… accidents.

Keaya looked up, from here he could just catch a glimpse of the court’s glittering roof.

Maybe… maybe the courts would go easy on them. After all, he was technically the person who was holding the bomb. If nothing else, maybe he could convince them the bombs were his and he forgot to leave them in Mondstadt. If he was convicted and held in the Fortress, maybe he could convince a nice officer to let him write to the Knights of Favonius. Lisa or Jean could come get Klee and smooth everything over.

Maybe everything would be okay?

A tiny explosion went off by the wall. Those who stayed behind to put out the fires yelled and jumped back.

Maybe Jean would reduce his sentence.

He and the shopkeepers kept their eyes fixed on the wall. When it seemed there wouldn’t be any more explosions, they went back to assessing the damages done to their shops. He looked down at Klee with a raised eyebrow and she nervously muttered something about a modification she made to the bombs on the way here. All so she could ‘test them against the super strong robots’ she heard about from the boat attendants.

Barbatos, help us.

Keaya sighed and grabbed a hold of Klee’s small hand. “It seems the situation is under control here, how about we go to the Grand Courts and explain what happened, yeah?”

Klee nodded hesitantly and grabbed his hand. Together, they walked towards the Grand Courts.

.....Nothing else could go wrong, could it?

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grimoire-of-seven · 4 years

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a slow dance?

PROMPT :: Dance Me Into A Stupor

Rating: SFW || Barbatos’ Warning: Out-of-context spoiler for Belphie’s prompt

Words: 250-400 words per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC / Gender-neutral Reader

Notes: This isn’t… my usual quality of writing but please be patient with me! I’m running late on a few school deadlines so I’ve crammed this a bit to keep up with the schedule. I hope everyone still liked this! And I’ll do my best on the next prompts (ಥ﹏ಥ)

LUCIFER

“So…”

“So…?” You asked, eyes staring at Lucifer’s for inquiry.

The two of you were on a firm waltz hold, the closed position led by the Avatar of Pride stood strong and proud in the middle of the ballroom. Diavolo’s lavish parties never get old in this part of Devildom.

You absolutely love attending such events, considering that a certain someone is always wearing those stylish high-class suits. So form-fitting and deliciously snug on the–

“Well,” Breaking character from his usual calm facade, the ravenet broke off eye contact with you, his voice laced with… guilt? “I suppose an apology is past overdue…?”

You blinked once.

Twice.

“Apology for what?”

He started at you for a few moments, bewildered at the nonchalant answer.

“My behaviour from our first dance, during the third day of the retreat in Lord Diavolo’s castle.” He explained briefly, the following words were chosen carefully, “I was quite concerned for my brothers’ well-being that I threatened you.”

Oh, that…

“You weren’t threatened at all, were you?” Lucifer grinned at you with a seemingly concerned face.

“I probably was,” You replied, but then sheepishly lowered your gaze in embarrassment, “But then I forgot about it.”

The dark-haired demon shook his head in affection, “What am I going to do with you..?”

MAMMON

Dances… aren’t really your thing. The first time you’ve danced with a demon here in Devildom, Lucifer was whisking you away with an unnaturally strong hold and whispering death threats above your head.

It’s the kind of thing that makes you not want to participate in the waltz. Ever.

That is, until Mammon, all in his glorious demon-form, walked up to you with that adorable blushing face. For a moment, he stood still. Hesitation is visible in his face and it seemed that he was struggling in forming cohesive sentences.

Does he want to…?

“W-Well, if ya a-ain’t got a partner like the loser Levi is, the Great Mammon is still w-willing to spare his first dance with ya.” He said to you, forcing out the words from his mouth.

Still…?

As if you can say no to Mammon’s roundabout way of inquiry. “I’d love to dance with you, Mammon.”

“Y-Yeah, of course ya do.” The Avatar of Greed huffed, offering his hand, “U-Unlike last time when… when Lucifer’s got all buddy-buddy with ya as if his stinky ass’ got a pact with ya.”

“Oh…” So that’s what this is about… With a slight giggle, you positioned yourself infront of him at a standard waltz hold, “If it’s any consolation… I was hoping to have my first dance with you, back then.”

Processing your statement, he remained silent and eyes were as wide as the full moon seen from the hall. The white-haired demon’s expression changed from surprise to doubt to happiness within a split second.

“Really?” He breathed out in disbelief, searching your visage for any trace of a lie.

“Yes.”

“Are ya tellin’ the truth?” Mammon’s grip on your hands tightened, as if he doesn’t want to let go, “Like, really???”

He laughed, a genuine one in a long time, and waltzed you onto the dancefloor all night long.

LEVIATHAN

Hand in hand with Levi, the two of you shared a moment under the moonlight as Lucifer forced the two of you ‘loners’ into participating at the festivities.

Levi kept his eyes down, seemingly more interested in the floor than dancing with you.

You can’t really fault him. Lucifer had dragged the whole house with him to this ball, and it was evident that the Avatar of Envy did not like the plan one bit.

You opened your mouth to break the ice but was cut short by the purple-haired demon, “Man, Asmo took the time to dress you up but your clothes are still all super long.”

“It can’t be helped.” You shook your head with a smile.

At least Levi is also trying to make conversation, rather than completely sulking at the situation you’re both in.

“We didn’t have the time to have it altered.”

“You know, in one of my favourite shoujo anime, ‘I’m a Cafe Maid But It’s A Top Secret Because I Am The Emperor’s Daughter Who Ran Away From My Responsibilities Because My Dad Is Forcing Me To Marry’,” He started rambling, a slight blush peppered his pale skin, “There’s a part where the princess slips on her dress and one of her suitors, a NEET gaming-addict who is also a shut in and doesn’t have any friends except for his pet fish, caught her and it’s so romantic–”

He stopped mid-sentence, foot slipping at the excessive amount of cloth on your fur coat.

“Woah, careful, Levi!” You caught him, one hand cradling him by the shoulders and the other stabilizing him from the small of his back to avoid a sudden fall. Levi held on to you for support, momentarily paralyzed.

“.…!” He met your worried gaze, his face heating up at your closeness and the warmth of your arms surrounding him.

“Are you okay?” You asked, holding him tight liken of a fragile porcelain vase that will shatter if you let him fall, “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I-I-I-I’m fine…”

Little did you know, his mind was already racing at the possibilities of him being in a shoujo anime with him as the princess and you as his knight and shining armour.

SATAN

Liken of a true gentleman that he is, Satan offered you his hand at the waltz the moment Lord Diavolo ended his speech. He brought you to the middle of the dance floor, leading you with graceful movements - with a fiery spark in his eyes. It’s as if the blonde is showing off his skills to everyone in Devildom.

Weird…

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Lucifer dancing, almost as gracefully, with a rather alluring witch.

Ah, Satan’s as competitive as usual, you thought to yourself, forcing yourself to not roll your eyes at the realization. That would be rude.

With his usual grin, he spoke, “You look amazing. The clothes Asmo picked for you fits you perfectly.”

E-Excuse me, what?

“T-Thank you.” You nodded politely at his words, feeling the rush of your blood on your cheeks.

Satan held you closer, whispering sensually by your right ear, “Your scent is different tonight, too. Something… mysterious.”

Woah–! “Aren’t you…”

The Avatar of Wrath dropped his tone, the type that sent chills down your spine, “You smell delicious–”

“Okay, what gives, Satan?” You pouted at his mischief, shoving him ever so slightly to regain what was left of your personal space. “What’s with all the super specific comments?”

He laughed with great amusement, surprised that you caught on to his jeers quite fast, “I get to see your pretty blushing face.”

“Not fair!”

“I’m not lying, though.” Satan’s expression changed, his visage now conveying a much more genuine smile, “I wanted to show you off to everyone, all in your blushing glory.”

ASMODEUS

Ever since the party started, Asmo hasn’t left your side. Much to Mammon’s absolute horror, the Avatar of Lust has kept his arms around your own all throughout the ceremonies.

He has been flirting with you the whole night with his usual string of compliments.

‘Your eyes gleam whenever you see him, as if there’s a galaxy bursting within them.’

‘Your lips were absolutely alluring, he’d spend hours kissing you and appreciating them as much as he could.’

‘The way your clothes fit your frame so delicately that he wants to ravish you while you–’

It was embarrassing to hear, given that there’s eight of you on the table and the peach-haired demon did not consider lowering his tone. Everyone in the table most definitely heard his soft yet aggressive comments.

It never stopped even until the two of you were dancing together in the waltz. Asmodeus held you in a firm hold, his natural beauty has always struck you whenever he’s this close, “Aren’t our clothes absolutely stunning?”

“They are, Asmo.” You smiled at him, only now do you ever feel the butterflies on your stomach at his words. “Your eye for beauty is unmatched.”

“Of course!” He swayed with you gracefully, his aura of sensuality piercing through the roof at the sight of him in his three piece suit, “This is a special night, I wouldn’t pass off the opportunity to show you off to the whole of Devildom!”

“That is so like you.”Giggling at his comment, you allowed yourself to finally relax and take in his praises. This intimacy is so much better than the earlier situation at the table.

“Come on, honey, give me a graceful twirl~” Asmo beamed at you, leading you into a twirl step with much finesse.

“And again!”

Wait-

“And again!”

“No-!” Feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the repeated spin, you tripped on your own shoes and find Asmodeus holding you stable. Sighing at the charming demon’s whims, you shook your head with a smile, “Asmo, this is a slow dance not tango.”

BEELZEBUB

The night is still young yet you sought refuge on the balcony, silently watching the moon from a nearby bench. Nights in the Devildom are often colder than the ones in the human world…

But then again, after months of staying here, how do you compare when traces of the human world get lost in your grasp every moment you spend down here?

You imagine the contrast of the bright sun during summers above and the dim light everyday here in–

“You look like you’re lost in thought.” A voice pulled you from your own thoughts, your head moving ever so slightly to confirm the person who joined you on the balcony.

It’s Beel.

“Ah, well…” You shrugged, rubbing your arms to stave a bit of the chill in the air, “I’m just a bit exhausted from socializing. Formal parties aren’t my thing.”

“It isn’t my thing, too.” The red-haired demon peeled off his coat, gently putting it over your shoulders and sat beside you, “I can’t eat all the food on the table. Lucifer is glaring daggers every time I try. He’s telling me that we’re representing Lord Diavolo’s name so I have to behave.”

You chuckled at his words. Lucifer sounds so much like a father to his siblings.

“We’ll get you some food at home. I’ll cook you some homemade–”

“Do you want to dance?” The Avatar of Gluttony asked you, the sounds of the orchestra from behind the two of you suddenly registering in your mind at the offer.

“What?”

He wants to dance?

“It’s just the two of us here…” He stated, holding out his hand towards you, “We can take it slow so you won’t get exhausted.”

You held his coat closer to you, the corners of your lips curling up at the saccharine proposal. “You’re too sweet, Beel.”

You took his hand.

BELPHEGOR

Despite the rough beginnings of your relationship with him, he tried his best to mend and gain your trust - this time, genuinely.

He’s always been so sweet yet there’s always a distance he’s kept whenever he’s with you. You can’t fault him. Perhaps the guilt of his past actions is always at the back of his mind…

You wanted to help him get past this. And the solution to your questions is today’s dance.

It’s your first dance with Belphegor.

Everything has been laid out perfectly in your mind. You’ll talk to him about it, he’ll answer you honestly and your relationship with him will be a lot stronger than before. Quite Disney-esque but you had to try.

That is… until he declared something that slipped your mind.

“I want to sleep.” He groggily announced, your dance slowing down much more sluggish than the actual tune of the waltz.

“Belphie, come on.” You tried to alert his senses a bit, hoping that he won’t sleep on you, literally, while the music is playing. “It’s Lord Diavolo’s birthday, we have to participate.”

The ravenet yawned, his hands slipping from yours, “The orchestra is playing lullabies, how can I not…”

“Stay with me!” With all your might, you tried to support Belphie’s weight, looking around to see something that would wake him up.

“Look, even Mammon is hitting it up on the dance floor…” Is he fucking dancing dougie… on a damn waltz?! This isn’t a dance battle, Mammon!!!

Scandalized at his inappropriate dance to a waltz, you shrugged it off, “Okay, we’re not watching him.”

“You’re as soft and warm as a pillow.” Belphie rubbed his head against yours, his body now shamelessly draped over yours while you struggled to lead him to the dance.

“D-Don’t you think this is a bit too close for a formal dance, Belphie?”

“Mnn…”

Very heavy!

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me game #obey me #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #barbatos' room #anon ask #mod lee #headcanons

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gearhawk-studios · 3 years

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Genshin Impact: Bloodlines

Prologue Part 3: Heart of a Hero

A wide known fact is that distractions can be a detriment to an author, whose mind and will is dedicated to committing stories to pen and paper. So, it is a necessity to find a workspace with the least amount of distractions, but the greatest amount of inspiration. For the 16-year-old Xandrin Scribhneoir, he preferred sitting on his favored boulder at the Falcon Coast. The lapping waves, the salty breeze, the occasional animal companion scurrying across the sandy surfaces, the gentle setting sun setting the sky ablaze in orange and blues… it was a place Xandrin found himself alone most of the time and had not taken this fact for granted.

He returned his sight to the leather bound notebook in his lap, already halfway filled with the tales of an upcoming knight of the Gunhildr Clan. When Xandrin had seen her on the training grounds of the Knights of Favonius, it was clear she had the will of a lion with her devastating swordplay, but the heart of a dandelion, soft and sweet. A perfect example of what Mondstadt’s knights should aspire to be, Xandrin thought to himself as he continued to write.

“Master Xandrin!”

The young man sighed, realizing his time uninterrupted was coming to an end. Closing his book, the Scribhneoir heir turned to see an older gentleman, wearing the black suit of a butler, rushing through the fields. His grey hair was tied into a long, slim and well kept ponytail, the beard trimmed with great finesse. The gentleman stopped at the stone, panting and coughing, “M-master Xandrin… please, you must not keep doing this…”

“Hector,” Xandrin addressed the man, wearing an exasperated smile on his face, “I’ve told you a hundred times, I can handle myself out here. Fiora made sure I wasn’t defenseless like I used to be.”

Hector raised his head, taking out a handkerchief and dapping the deep wrinkles on his forehead, “Be that as it may… your parents have expressly stated that I am to keep you in my sight at all times. So, would you please stop slipping away from me?”

With a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, Xandrin slid down from his favored spot and nodded to the butler, “I will do my best, Hector. C’mon, we should probably get back home.”

Gathering up his satchel and his writing supplies, Xandrin slung the bag over his shoulder and led Hector back down the all familiar path to Mondstadt. The smell of the salt on the air was soon replaced with the scent of the multitude of flowers around the fields of Windrise, something that made Xandrin smile.

“How is your next work coming along, Master Xandrin?” Hector spoke, his tone more composed.

Xandrin turned to him and thought for a moment, “It’s coming along. Just a little unnerving having to get this done within a month.”

“Such is the bane of authors, sir. A life of deadlines and writer’s block.”

Chuckling, Xandrin nodded, “It certainly can be, Hector. It certainly can.”

The two continued along, passing a flock of small birds that took off into the air. Xandrin watched them fly, leaving behind a couple of feathers that danced in the breeze. As Xandrin observed them, Hector spoke up once more, “May I ask a question, Master Xandrin?”

Xandrin nodded, still watching the feathers float to the ground. Hector cleared his throat, “You’ve been writing about the heroes of Mondstadt for quite a while, I have been wondering… have you not considered making a story of yourself?”

There was a long pause, as Xandrin turned and looked at Hector. Then, he shook his head, “I’m not much of a hero, Hector. What would there be to write? I’m just a writer, nothing much else to it.”

Hector smiled tiredly, “Perhaps, Master Xandrin. But have you-“

Xandrin held up a hand, both him and Hector stopping in their tracks. There was a new smell in the air. There was the faint scent of smoke… of blood. Eyes widening, he turned to Hector. Seeing his young master’s look in his gaze, Hector nodded as they turned their attention to the massive tree in the distance. The symbol of Vennessa.

Together they ran over, moving carefully over the massive roots of this ancient tree. As they moved, Xandrin noticed jagged scorch marks across the various roots, not caused by normal fire. He also saw broken sticks and shards of metal. Before he could notice more, Hector held out an arm, motioning for Xandrin to stop and get low.

Dropping behind one of the roots, Xandrin and his trusty butler peeked over to see a most disturbing sight. At the base of the tree was a statue to Barbatos, the Anemo Archon and God of Freedom. It was a spot common for the Sisters of the Church of Mondstadt to come to offer respects with the Knights of Favonius watching over them. Two such sisters, though one looked to be about Xandrin’s age while the other could be no older than 11, were fearful as a man in dark and rusted armor approached them. A knight, his own armor scorched, lay motionless on the ground with his claymore stuck in the ground.

The man approached the two girls, his long black hair free and only lightly obscuring his scarred face. He held a black sword, which seemed to crackle with lightning. His voice was low, with a charming edge to it, “Now, while I’d love to stay here and chat about the information I require, we have very little time. Come quietly with me, now.”

“G-get back,” the older girl, with a long braided brown pony tail and long pointed ears stammered, reaching for a pendant around her neck. It began to flow and lime green, light escaping the cracks in her grasp as suddenly a vine sprouted out of the ground to try and strike at the man.

Sighing, the man seemed to swing his sword nonchalantly, only making a shallow cut in the attacking plant. Lightning poured into the cut, frying it almost in an instant. The younger girl, in a white dress and blonde hair, began to cry, “S-sister Annabelle… I’m scared…”

The older girl turned to the younger girl and tried to put on a brave face, “It’s okay, Sister Barbara. It’ll be okay.”

Xandrin’s grip tightened, watching the man laugh at the girl’s obvious fear. He turned to Hector and whispered, “We have to do something.”

“What do you suggest, sir?” Hector nodded, looking worried but ready to assist.

“Can you get the girls out of here while I distract this guy?”

Hector looked shocked, “S-sir, I can’t-“

“It's obvious the knights will be here soon, as this guy is in a rush. I only need to hold him off for a little bit… please, Hector. I might not have a Vision, or be a hero. But I gotta do something.”

The loyal butler looked into Xandrin’s eyes, seeing the unwavering determination. Sighing, Hector nodded. A smile appeared across Xandrin’s face as he began to sneak around. The girls, on the other hand, had finished backing up and now were against the statue of Barbatos. The man continued to advance, a slow and menacing chuckle escaping his lips, “Do we really need to do this the hard way? All I want to know is the secrets the Church has been hiding.”

Just as the man was about to reach out and grab Annabelle, the man cried out in pain as he was knocked to the side. Standing just behind the man was Xandrin, holding the Favonius Claymore. The girls stared in astonishment at this young man, having swung the blade with ease. Hector immediately came over, “Excuse me ladies, but I believe this is our cue to get out of here.”

The girls nodded, Barbara whispering a thank you as Hector began leading them away. As they went away, Xandrin rested the greatsword on his shoulder. Hector got one last look as Xandrin said, “Like I said, Hector. Fiora made sure I could hold my own.”

With them rushing down the path to Mondstadt, Xandrin took a deep breath and turned to face the man who was standing back up. The man glared at Xandrin, “Just… who the hell do you think you are?!”

Xandrin placed a hand on his chest, “Me? I’m just an author passing through, don’t worry about me. What’s your name, Mr. Creep?”

The man spat, wiping a small amount of dirt from the corner of his mouth. Xandrin then noticed on the man’s left shoulder there was a purple gem with the symbol of Electro fashioned into the armor piece. This man had a Vision?

“Realizing you’re in over your head, punk?” The man sneered, flourishing the black blade in his hand again as sparks danced along the menacing edge.

Despite his heart racing, Xandrin kept a calm expression as he said, “I’ve seen people without Visions do a lot more damage than you, Mr. Creep.”

Scowling, the man dashed forward, leaving a wave of purple sparks in his wake. Xandrin barely had enough time to take the large blade on his shoulder and block the attack, making him slide back a couple of inches. The man looked at Xandrin, a smug expression across his scarred features as he came for another attack. The young author was faster this time, meeting the dark sword with his own.

Frowning, the man concentrated. The Vision began to light up in a bright violet light, he brought his blade back and came down hard with electricity beginning to arc along the edge. Xandrin moved to defend, but once the blades connected, the high voltage traveled through his blade and up his arms. Crying out, Xandrin loosened the grip and the man easily disarmed the young writer.

The blade flew high up in the air, landing far away from Xandrin. Seeing his hands now empty, Xandrin looked at the man and sheepishly grinned, “W-well, guess that happened…”

Without another word, the armored man raised a fist and slammed the back of it against Xandrin’s cheek, sending him flying. Crashing on the stone steps leading up to the Shrine of Barbatos, Xandrin groaned. He coughed up a small amount of blood, holding his side, “D-dammit…”

Sighing in frustration, the man stalked up to Xandrin, “Well… if I can’t get what I was looking for… I might as well get some target practice in…”

Outstretching a gloved hand, the Vision once again lit up as bolts of indigo lightning descended on Xandrin. The young man cried out, his nerves on fire and his clothes smoking from the impact. Releasing the bolts, the man spoke with a smug grin, “What the matter, punk? No more quips?”

Coughing and sputtering, Xandrin looked up to the man with a weak grin, “C-c’mon… I’ve seen tiny Electro Slimes give more voltage than your weak little stings…”

Growling, the man shot out his hand again. The torrent of lightning fell on Xandrin once again, pushing him back up against the statue hard as he screamed in pain. Gritting his teeth, the tears that would’ve flowed from Xandrin’s eyes were being instantly evaporated by the extreme heat as he looked up at the statue of Barbatos.

Please… help...

“Once I’m done with you, I’m gonna find those girls and I will find what I am looking for, brat,” the man shouted, increasing the lightning. “And once I have what I want… I might just need to have some more target practice with those girls and that old man…”

Xandrin’s eyes widened, the thought of those terrified girls… Hector… the lightning that scorched him now falling on them. No. His fists tightened, his gaze turning down to meet the man. No. He placed his hands on the statue behind him, trying to push himself up. No. The statue began to glow, the orb held by the immaculately carved Barbatos beginning to shine a seafoam green as the man looked shocked at this sudden change. NO. The wind began to swirl around the man and Xandrin, rapidly picking up pace as the glow of the orb from the statue began to flow down the stone structure and into Xandrin’s hands.

“NO!”

A massive gust of air launched out from Xandrin’s outstretched palm, slamming into the man as he went flying backward. The wind whipping around the statue and Xandrin sped up faster and faster, the soft green glow flowing through Xandrin’s body as he glared at the evil man who stared in astonishment.

“I won’t let you touch them!” Xandrin shouted, reaching out his right hand. The gilded greatsword flew from its resting spot, guided by the wind as it landed in Xandrin’s grasp perfectly.

“Th-the hell?!” The man shot up on his feet.

Xandrin looked about himself, unsure of what was going on himself. This felt… familiar somehow. But, how could he use this?

“Relax, Xandrin.”

The writer paused, hearing the words almost as if they were in his mind. He was about to speak when the friendly voice spoke again, “Breathe, Xandrin. Listen to the winds, hear their stories… hear how they wish for you to use them.”

Nodding to himself, Xandrin closed his eyes. Images flowed by him. A radiant lady knight, striking foes with thrusts of concentrated air, a young man with a mask launching himself high in the air to come crashing down, a blonde haired individual reaching out their palm to create a ball-like tornado in their hand…

“This is my power, the power of Anemo. Let it guide you, Xandrin Scribhneoir. Let the winds in your heart, the kind breeze the exudes from your soul, be the sword that defends the freedom of others.”

Eyes snapping open, Xandrin grasped the hilt of the claymore in both hands and brought it to his side, the winds whipping up and around the blade. The man, seeing Xandrin preparing himself, growled and ran his hand down the side of the blade, it glowing bright purple with lightning. He then charged forward, letting loose a battle cry, “Time to die, brat!”

“And here… is the finale!” Xandrin shouted as he stomped his foot down, using his entire body weight to swing the blade horizontally. The weaponized air became razor sharp, creating a green swathe of Anemo energy that barreled towards the man. Seeing this attack coming at him, the man raised his sword to catch the attack, but found it overwhelming as it overtook him.

The strike of wind took up the man, shredding his armor like paper as it threw him backwards. He crashed into the ground, creating a small crater in the side of a hill as he lost grip of his blade and fell limp and unconscious. The wind began to die down, Xandrin’s arms dropping to his sides as he fell to his knees. In the distance, he could see several armored Knights of Favonius rushing towards them. A small chuckle escaped the wounded Xandrin’s lips as he dropped the sword and fell to the ground himself.

As the Favonius Knights made it to the base of the tree, one singular knight who towered above the others walked over to the young Scribhneoir, his gentle gaze noticing a soft green glow coming from his chest. The knight turned Xandrin over, and his eyes widened. On the young man’s chest, attached to the strap of his satchel, sat a green glass orb with the symbol of Anemo etched in it.

“For your bravery, and your desire of inspiring the freedom to become a hero… I grant you, Xandrin Scribhneoir, the Vision of Anemo… may it lead you to the answers you will seek…”

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin barbara #genshin barbatos #genshin original character #originl character

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