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yuellii · 4 months

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FLOWERS, ONE TO MY REMEMBRANCE.

scaramouche / gn reader, merry christmas @adiluv :)

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a lightened, innocent charm. A sparkling crinkle in his eyes so unadulterated and wholehearted. The Wanderer’s voice is like a new baby’s breath to this old, torn world.

And you—there’s electric in your heart, and a strum of curiosity stemming from your heartstrings to your brain. A smile so unknowing and hypnotic in the way it sends butterflies to his stomach in mere instances. In all the years he’s spent wandering the seven regions and the seven elements, he truly believe he has not felt love until this moment.

With your eyes so new and so kind upon him, oh, he might’ve truly found the purpose of the heavens within you.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a curious type of stunned silence. He’s enchanted in a way, a feeling wherein he can feel his knees begin to crumble at the mere sight of the details of your face. The Wanderer feels weak, as if he’s falling in love at first sight.

“The Wanderer…” you ponder quietly.

He feels his cheeks flare up at your voice. His lips feel glued together once he hears you speak for the first time, completely taken aback from the hypnotic aura you radiate. By laws of nature, he feels like a moth to your flame in which he, as a wandering soul of old, feels he can truly find you in every universe.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

A bitter taste resides on his tongue.

You turn to look at him, and he feels this uncanny sense of familiarity within the depths of your eyes. The soul in them: he suddenly feels as if he’s stared at it a million times before.

He’s thinking of crumbling away about now.

“The Wanderer…” The taste of his title on your tongue, the sound of your voice—all of it falls unbearably recognizable. He can feel his breath catch short within the cages of his lungs, however it is not one he desired. Somehow, he feels as if this improper breathing should’ve been soul-crushing in a way that was loving, and not the blatant fear that suddenly settles in the taut tightropes of his beating heart. “Have we…” you voice out, the sound of each word stealing more of his airflow away from his lifeline. “Have we met before?”

The rising intonation at the end of your sentence sends a shiver to his spine when he processes your words. He feels clammy, sweaty; but he’s made of wood—he shouldn’t sweat? He shouldn’t be feeling like this? But you were no evil, no… So he should not be filled with this sense of hesitant alarm.

“No…” says he, reluctantly so. “Not that I know of.” He attempts to say this gulping with confidence, however he fails in this aspect—in fact, he sounds as if he is nervous, speaking with shaky breaths. It was clear that even he himself did not believe his own words. No, not that I know of; and yet he felt like he’s known you for every previous life.

“That’s so odd,” you miss, finger quite innocently falling upon your bottom lip in ponderance. “I can swear I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I cannot currently recall…”

He coughed. “You must be mistaken.”

What originally drew him to you like a moth to a flame now killed him. And he felt near-death in this moment; a sensation in which he feels he should run far away from you, no matter how clueless you seem right now. All that mattered was that he recognized you in a way that felt dangerous, like it should not be happening.

He excuses him, and runs off at your confusion.

“I knew I’d find you here. Luckily so soon, too.”

Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche—not that he could bother to care much right now—whipped his head around in horrific shock. The Dendro Archon stood there right at his tail, looking up at his disgruntled eyes in disappointment.

“Do you know who you are right now?” she continues, approaching so calmly. His startled fingers ball to fists in frustration, glaring at her from the side of his face with his back turned in what seemed like anger. But only Nahida knew, truly: he was more than ashamed now. “Am I speaking to the Wanderer, or who you really are?”

He scoffs. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying your questions are?” he insults, much unlike the Wanderer.

“Oh, so it sounds like you remember everything,” the Archon states. Her tone is almost one of giggling, yet she does not make much haste when approaching him. There is no ridicule or spite in her words, her voice instead much sounding like a caring older sister getting ready to scold him. “That’s good. Makes my job easier.”

“What do you want from me,” he commands from her.

She walks without a hop or skip in her step; there no playfulness in her approach, just a slow resolve. He isn’t sure how much longer he can eye her as she comes forth—his heart is racing right now, and he needs to stop it desperately so. He is but a puppet: he is not familiar nor is he fond of this suspenseful feeling.

“Well,” she started, finally standing still next to him, “we both know why you’re here, standing right in front of Irminsul.” He flinches at her words. “How many times has it been now, Wanderer? Five? Forty? Hundreds?”

“That’s none of your business,” he snarls at her, turning his face away. But still, he stands ashamed, balling his fists constantly as if he hoped his nails would break his inhuman palms until they impossibly bled. “It isn’t my fault, you know.”

She hummed. He wanted to punch her from this sound alone—she should not assume she knows his reasonings as well as he himself does. “But as a man who is a new human”—he feels himself almost hurl from the lecture—“you need to learn how to handle human issues in a human way.”

“But no matter what, I am not human,” he tells her. “This is all I know to do.”

“Erasing yourself over and over again is not the answer, I fear, Wanderer.” And this is where she almost giggles at him, and he feels more embarrassed, converted to anger. But he could not deny this. He could not deny that he was stupidly resetting the world and it’s memory of him.

Stupidity, unfortunately, was his opinionated best shot.

“Just one more.” It was like a beg. “Just one more, because I was seen.”

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

You looked at him surprised, and he hid his face under his hat in embarrassment. You immediately notice how his stance is completely changed from before, demeanor like shifted to a different person.

“Oh!” you notice surely. “You’re back—you left so abruptly earlier…”

He somehow feels more ashamed than before. This was his millionth first-meeting with you by now, and somehow the most humiliating one. There was something about meeting you like this every time—being erased of his own memories by himself, slowly remembering his own memories, and crying out because he’s entangled himself with you once more. And that’s when he breaks down, and resets the world all before the Dendro Archon catches him.

And now, here he was, standing here like a middle schooler forced by his mother to apologize to a girl he liked.

“Sorry…” he seethe through gritted teeth. He really isn’t sure how to continue this conversation with you. In his own head, he has all these memories of your first relationship, and of all these first meetings, and you… You were just meeting him like a stranger.

But when you look at him all the same, a different sense of familiarity in your eyes… He feels it may be different this time.

And, he might just allow himself to love you now.

MERRY CHRISTMAS I LOVE YEWWW

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader

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yuellii · 4 months

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THIS IS SO MESSED UP I FORGOT ABT TIMEZONES MY SECRET SANTA ISNT DONE

#🌧️ : courtyard exch.

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yuellii · 4 months

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HOLY FUCKING SHIT

4 steps to (not so) discreetly show interest + the one moment you do.

Recipient: @yuellii , secret santa event! Enjoy :)

Gender neutral reader, fluff TW/CW: injury(minor) Word count: 2739 Proofread: n/a | she think’s she’s discreet, her act is to perfection. is it? oh, no, no– you know. it’s painfully obvious but you can’t help but watch in amusement, watching as she trip on her own heels, but you’re there to help. | A/N: set in modern times, highschool au, ITS CHRISTMAS, SNOW!! :D

Furina, as confident and enthusiastic she may be on stage, still has sides that she feels difficult to show– perhaps some of her more softer and ‘weaker’ sides that she kept behind the facade of flamboyancy.

Recently having found newfound interest in you, the school librarian, she couldn’t help but subconsciously make her way to the school library, taking a seat near your station, peeking from the top of her book as she watches you work on your laptop.

Perhaps it was in the spur of the moment, or it was her muscles that moved on their own, when she had walked up towards the small desk, slamming her hands down on the table.

Eyes moving rapidly from your startled form towards the book ridden wall, she finds her words stuck in her throat, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You adjust your posture as you form a small smile, not knowing what to say.

“May I help you?”

Furina finds her face flaring up into fire as she rethinks her sudden movements, finding herself at a loss of words. She stares at you for a good while until you wave a timid hand in front of the famous school actress.

“Ah, I thought I saw a bug near you– haha…”

The heterochromia girl wanted to sink into a hole and never be seen again– what kind of excuse was that? – to her, it seemed like a loss of face as one of the best students with great acting in the drama club.

“I… see. Thanks for your concern.” Your voice is laced with some bit of confusion, watching the flustered girl run outside of the library.

Interesting…

1) Befriending you

Furina, at first, finds this idea of hers quite easy.

“You know, I think befriending them is the easiest way to win their heart!” Her voice is filled with anticipation, until she gets shut down by another club member.

“But that can make them only see you as a friend, perhaps?” Yun Jin suggests, “It may not be a 100% possibility, but there’s a chance.”

“True, true, like, you might become one of those second leads that finds their romantic interest get taken away by someone else!” Hu Tao chimes, hands animatedly flailing around.

Furina slumps down on the chair as she sighs. Perhaps she just had to keep it to herself.

“But you can try to woo them, find out their interests maybe?” Nilou pitches an idea.

The white haired girl straightens back in her chair again, grabbing a hold of the red haired’s hands, heterochromic eyes sparkling as she hurriedly mutters out a thank you, running towards the library.

The three look at the door that Furina dashed out of, sharing a knowing look as they hear her footsteps fade.

The sliding door of the library opens as the girl slumps down a bit, taking some breaths as she makes her way to her usual spot to ‘read’, sneaking glances at your form typing away on your laptop. Tapping sounds of the keyboard is heard throughout the ambient silence as Furina closes her book, walking towards your desk as you look up at the approaching figure.

“May I help you?” You close your laptop as you tilt your head.

“Ah, no– I just, well, wanted to know you better– I think my actions yesterday shocked you a little, yeah?”

You smile as you nod slightly, finding some amusement in the obvious stuttering the famed actress’ words. You think you know what’s going on.

Furina conjures up a small smile, “So, as an… apology! I’d like to treat you to something you like, if you have the time…” voice fading as she waits for your response.

“I’m free today after club activities, is that okay with you?”

The girl in front of you perks up as she nods, the single lock of hair seemingly also bouncing up and down, thanking you for your time as she makes her way out of the library– in a calmer manner.

As the door closes, you can hear a faint, ‘Yay!’, with excited footsteps fading into the distance.

Cute.

2) Sitting closer

After Furina’s apology, the two of you became closer, finding the two of you going out regularly towards the small cafe outside of the school after club activities from school. Some days when one of you didn’t have the time, it felt slightly odd and empty, finding nothing interesting to do.

You haven’t noticed yet, but Furina thinks it’d be better for you to not to know, as she takes the seat opposite of you in the library as she opens the book to the bookmark she placed, blushing when she finds the exact book next to your arm, with a small paper folded saying ‘Furina’s’

The white haired girl thinks her club members– friends– are delusional when they tease her about how you may like her back.

She wishes it was true, but the chance of you liking her back in that way was way too low. Always slamming her forehead onto the round table in the drama room.

Today, she came from the drama room once again, though with a slight red marking on her forehead from the excessive slamming of her head onto the table, smiling weakly as you turn your head towards the library’s entrance, greeting her like you always did.

You refocus on your laptop again, until you jerk your head back towards Furina, eyebrows furrowing at the circular red swelling of her forehead. Standing up from your seat, you walk towards the white haired girl, brushing her hair from her face.

“You’re hurt…”

Furina’s unable to think nor respond as she slightly malfunctions between the small distance from you to her, once again, finding herself at a loss for words.

You take the girl’s hand as you lead her towards the infirmary, setting Furina down on one of the beds as you search for a cooling pack in the fridge.

“You should be more careful next time, what if you get a concussion?” Your voice is laced with concern as you carefully pack the cold pack with tissue, setting it on the girl’s forehead.

“I accidentally slammed my head on the table too hard today– nothing serious!”

You sigh as you let Furina hold the ice pack on her head, making sure to check for any signs of other damage, until you find a small but bleeding cut on the top of her knee.

“What happened here?”

“I don’t know how that happened, really! I’m serious… I didn’t feel anything there–”

You rush to get some disinfectant and a bandaid, setting a chair towards the bed as you sanitise the cut, applying some pressure. Setting the bandaid on the small injury, you look at the girl as she stares back at you, dumbfounded and flustered.

You squint your eyes in confusion until you recall your actions, finding yourself flustered and bashful as well.

3) Trying to impress

The day after that small interaction was pretty normal.

“...I’m telling you, Furina, they definitely like you back!” an energetic voice is heard outside of the drama room as the said girl slaps her hands on Hu Tao’s mouth.

“Be quiet! I don’t want anyone to hear about this– I want to keep my dignity today!”

Yun Jin laughs as she agrees with Hu Tao, “I’m sure (y/n) likes you back, you said they were also flustered in the end as well, no?”

“But still– they could be just caring…”

This time, Nilou shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of (y/n) doing that to any of their friends– I can try ask Tighnari– he’s one of their closest friends, if my memory serves me right.”

Slightly– quite obviously– desperate, Furina nods, clasping her hands around Nilou’s own.

“That’d be wonderful! Thank you so much, Nilou~”

A few days later, Nilou brings in newfound information from Tighnari about you.

“Apparently, they aren’t outwardly caring, but do care for their friends… oh! And he did say they seemed to find interest in someone in the school, but didn’t tell him who…”

Furina, with the first bit of information, perked up in glee, though soon dropped on the floor in some despair when she heard the latter.

“They definitely don’t like me back… archons, what will I do?”

As the imaginary rain and thunder cloud splashed tears of despair onto the white haired girl, Yun Jin speaks.

“That mysterious person could be you–”

“That, is being delusional!” Furina chides.

“Maybe you can try impressing them in some way?” Hu Tao mumbles, chin on hand, “They’re the librarian, right? Try reading something they like or something, I don’t know~”

With the brunette’s suggestion, the girl in distress seem to have a weight lifted off her shoulders as she smiles.

“Great idea, Hu Tao!”

And off went Furina, skipping towards the entrance of the library once again.

Yun Jin sighs in amusement, closing the room’s door, chuckling at how this situation felt like many cliches in romance dramas.

When the familiar footsteps of Furina’s shoes clacked on the wooden and marble tiles of the floor, you look towards the library entrance, expecting the white haired girl to arrive soon enough.

“Welcome back.”

Furina’s eyes seemingly brighten when she hears your voice, as she nearly skids towards the opposite seat, sitting down in front of you as she leans towards your laptop.

“So, (Y/n), I think I’ve ran out of books to read, any suggestions for books you like?”

The girl prides herself for not stuttering this time– she thinks that now, she perfected her acts to hide her feelings.

“Oh? Well– I don’t really have much suggestions, but I can lend you a book that I finished reading last week, if you’d like?”

The floating lock of white hair bobs up and down vigorously as Furina hears your suggestion. You smile a little, reaching down for your back and picking up the hardcover book.

“Tell me about it after you read it, yeah?”

“Alright~”

4) Jealousy?

Furina thinks she really isn’t the jealous type– especially when she isn’t in a relationship at all.

She also thinks that she shouldn’t really be jealous when she thinks–thinks– you smile more when you’re talking with Neuvillette.

But she can’t help but find a grimace settling on her face whenever she sees the tall white haired man in the library, taking her seat as you both talk about some matters surrounding costs in the library– it wasn’t something really meaningful, but perhaps it was the jealousy setting in, as she feels like the person you were interested in could be one of her friends– moreso babysitter– but still, she disliked the odd feeling in her chest.

“What if they like Neuvillette? I definitely saw them smiling–”

The rest of her words are muffled in her sweater sleeve as she buries her face, unable to knock the odd feeling in her chest.

“That’s your feelings acting up there, messes up with your logical view on a situation, Furina.” Yun Jin sighs, patting the despair stricken girl on the back.

“But still, think about it– it’s possible!”

Hu Tao seems to be fed up with Furina’s continuous despair, drawling out,“Yeah, yeah, what were they talking about anyway?”

The latter’s mouth thins out to a straight line. “Costs…”

Several sighs are heard from her club members, as the white haired girl peeks up from her arm.

“Yeah, no chance of (Y/n) liking Neuvillette, he’s in the student council, of course he’s going to talk about costs with the student librarian!”

Hu Tao sighs, hands and shoulders creating a shrugging motion as she slumps down to her chair.

Furina sighs as she slinks down on the chair, heterochromia eyes staring up at the ceiling.

However, the four club members’ attention is directed towards the door, several knocks heard from outside. Furina weakly speaks,

“Come in…”

Your hand slides open the wooden door to the drama club, waving a small ‘hi’ towards the startled three. Your shoes make little sounds on the floor as you tap the white haired girl’s shoulder, watching the girl immediately correct both her posture and expression.

“Are you still coming to the cafe? You weren’t near the library for a while, so I wanted to ask–”

“Oh, it’s already time? I guess I was a little caught off, haha– shall we go now?”

You nod, already near the entrance door as you wave back towards the three other members, taking the much happier girl in tow with you as the two of you walk towards the cafe outside of the school.

“I’m like, 1000% sure that they both like each other, it’s so suffocating–”

“Definitely.”

“I think so too…”

5) Your own interest.

In your opinion, you didn’t really find anyone in the school pretty interesting– though your friends, particularly Tighnari and Cyno, did comment that it was most likely due to how much time you spent stuck in the library.

It all changed when a random girl– which you later knew as one of the most popular and famous actress in the drama club in the school– slammed her hands in front of you.

After the small interaction, you found slight interest towards her, finding amusement whenever she tripped on her own heels, both metaphorically and literally, stuttering in the moments when the both of you were alone, and how she became more fidgety during those moments.

You didn’t know that you’d find someone as interesting and funny like Furina in your school years, but you think that this pretty much changed when you saw the girl hurt.

It must’ve been your subconcsiousness acting, because you barely remembered what happened, but you know you remember how Furina stared at you, face red hot, as you found yourself close and taking care of the injury. You remember how after that day, you’d find yourself blushing and warm thinking of the girl.

It was until Tighnari told you that Nilou– one of the other drama club members– asked him for some of your information, telling you his own thought– which you can directly quote,

“Maybe Furina asked her? They’re all pretty close, so it does make some sense.”

Especially when you told Tighnari about how you did find some interest in Furina, Tighnari did convey some information, though taking away some information just for some amusement.

It also didn’t really help when one of your other friends, as well as senior, Lisa, told you that your interest was most likely romantic attraction after you told some of your feelings about Furina towards the senior librarian.

With you, nearly a hundred percent sure about your feelings being reciprocated, waited for Furina to be at the library or its vicinity, but weren’t able to find her after your conversation with Neuvillette.

Perhaps, you think, she went home because of the cold? It is winter…

You take some hesitant but haste steps towards the drama room, knocking on the door as you hear the familiar yet uncharacteristic deflated voice of the white haired girl speak out a weak ‘come in’. You sigh in slight relief, knowing that she didn’t go home yet.

When the two of you make your way towards the cafe that the both of you mostly went after extracurricular activities, you decide to say your feelings– it was now or never.

“Wait, I have something to, uh, say.”

The girl next to you turns towards you, attention focused on your tensed form, eyebrows raising up in both confusion and anticipation.

“Uh… I– I like you, a lot, really…”

Furina’s face heats up, blinking incredulously at you as you look away, unable to look at the heterochromia eyed girl, finding interest in the falling snowflakes from the dark but nice clouds in the sky, though your head immediately turns back as you feel her hands taking your own.

“That’s– that… I– I like you too!”

You smile. Your confession definitely wasn’t one of the smoothest, nor was it the best– but you knew that now, your feelings were reciprocated.

“So, we’re official now?”

“Of course we are– besides, you should be feeling grateful that I– Furina– even liked you back~”

You bonk her head slightly as the two of you make your way towards the cafe, snow crunching on the pavement as you watch the warm orange fairy lights decorate the cafe.

“Merry Christmas.”

#WAIT I HAVENT EVEN READ IT YET IM GASPING FOR AIR #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #🌊 : reblogs.#WAIT CRAP LEMME #AAHDSHKSBZNAMAA #I LOVE YOU OP

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yuellii · 4 months

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“ The... inspiration always comes at night... till now. ” — zima / gn reader, for @st-pavlov-foundation winter event

Day 18 — Sweaters / Blankets

“There’s… snow,” says he.

His nose scrunches up as a snowflake tickles his skin upon its wake, and almost instinctively does he bury half his face under his scarf. And that’s when the presence of his garment makes him realize that it is something you lack—a source of warmth to shield you from this growing cold. Zima hurries to push you back inside, shutting the door in a panic.

He’s only recently begun to become considerate.

Twenty-nine years of being beguiled by Earth’s nature, and yet it’s taken him this long to truly notice the little things. Little things, such as the slight goosebumps lining your arms, or the pajamas you still wore, or the lack of warm clothing on your body. Years ago, he might’ve not noticed how warm he was compared to you, or even how your neck did not carry a scarf like he did. He might’ve been inconsiderate.

“The first snowfall,” you hush excitedly nevertheless. “No wonder it’s colder now, even inside.”

You shiver from an opened window, and he stays silent, the slightest of pouts ghosting upon the line of his lips. That was when you almost toppled over, a sudden weight dropping down on your shoulders with no remorse as a spread of heat enveloped the back of your body. It seemed almost like an attack if not for the scent of pine filling your nostrils, as well as the pale arms that carelessly dropped the coat onto you.

( Good intentions, truly—but that execution of his might’ve been terrible. He’s certainly more observant than he was before, but there might be a few more things he still needs to learn… )

Your hand dashed to your shoulders to quickly catch the top of the coat before it slid off your body, Zima not realizing he actually had to adjust the piece of clothing before leaving it on you. The shyness of his fingertips proved hesitant as they stuttered in its movements just to help you; he only figured the warmth of his coat would help you, but only ended up cursing himself for not anticipating this drawback.

“But,” you muttered closer to him, burying half your face onto the top lining of his coat, “Won’t you be cold?”

( His heartstrings strum, just an ever-so slight melody in the air. It’s as he buries half his face in his scarf, just as you do the same in his coat. You’re matching. He finds his lips smiling inside his scarf. )

He hums in incoherent thoughts, muffled words reassuring, “‘M fine… I’m… Used to snow.”

Zima catches your eyes lower to the flush of his cheeks. He wonders what you’re thinking about. Surely, it’s something more interesting than him.

“Let’s get blankets and hot chocolate?” you propose.

“Hm?”

“So that we’re both warm.” There’s a smile on your face: One that he can see clearly from your eyes alone, and not your lips that still his themselves under his coat. He’s never thought a person could smile like that before. He needs to write this down.

But he stays silent, stringing words of rhyme and of natures in love that you’ve so dangerously planted in his mind. And he blanks out, comfortably indeed, mindlessly allowing you to pull him along as you prepare blankets and hot chocolate mugs for him to learn even more about warmth.

This blanket… It suddenly felt lovelier shared with you.

#st. pavlov foundation #зима x reader #zima x reader #reverse 1999 x reader #зима reverse 1999 #зима #zima #reverse 1999

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yuellii · 4 months

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# genshin impact neuvillette birthday art 2023 🐉

#my beloved 💓💓#🌊 : reblogs.

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yuellii · 4 months

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last day

only releasing short, sporadic things because of finals season right now guys 💙💙

#finally 🤭 back to writing #🌧️ : courtyard exch.

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yuellii · 5 months

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ooo whatever “argument” this is has to be absolutely the dumbest responses i’ve seen on my feed this week so let’s break it down!

the writing fallacy these two users use in literature is a clear display of a red herring, which is “an attempt to shift focus from the debate at hand by introducing an irrelevant point.” so in this case, while anon is confronting the user for boosting 14 year olds that write dark smut, both the user and their friend are instead shifting the topic to real world issues, because they want to easily shift responsibility and blame.

and honestly, it’s insulting you drag Palestine’s name in this. there is a worldly g**ocide and you are blame-shifting to a suffering country, and simply using the support of name to put yourself on some moral pedestal that does not exist. your support for Palestine does not change the fact you are boosting 14 year olds on this platform, whether you can get that through your skull or not.

let’s just block and move along now. and as a 21 year old adult, if you are a minor who interacts with / posts smut, or you support minors who post smut fics, then please do not interact and hard block me, thank you.

glad i ruined ur day because you’re genuinely fucked in the head. 💀💀

OMFG I know. Like I have depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, self harming and destructive tendencies, I’m fucked up in the head 😍😍😍😍

#sorry to put this on feed #it was so stupid i had to #🌊 : reblogs.

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yuellii · 5 months

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GUYS.

#I MISSED THIS???#stop i’m not ok right now.#NO THIS IS CRAZY #I MISS HIM SO MUCH #🌊 : reblogs.

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yuellii · 5 months

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# THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?

— lyney, freminet, navia : 272, 213, 206 words respectively. these don’t really make much sense tbh.

# LYNEY : love. bouts of flattery overflowing from a mouth full of bleeding gums, bouquets of rainbow roses neatly tied together in a pretty silk bow; words slipped like cards between fingers past his teeth that are pleasing to the ear but do naught to soothe the ache beneath the skin. stiff movement, perfected performance, smile lines on a face that has seen nothing but tragedy; swooning, blushing, grinning; bright spotlights, pried open eyes blind to it all. cries for an encore are like a bandage over a profusely bleeding wound that just won’t stop, won’t quiet down. gods, he’s so tired of encores.

but he is not tired of performing. the desire to still swells beneath his skin like the blood that sustains him — it always has. but it is beginning to feel like a cut forcing that deep-seated thing to the surface instead of passion, forming a wound instead of flushed cheeks, painful and slow and agonizing as it bleeds him dry. but at least now it is familiar.

dreams that leave him in a haze, warmth settling in the pit of his belly instead of knives, bread as a peace offering, hands held tight in the face of peril, soft breaths entwined without a single kiss and gentle touches to gnawing wounds. moving away from a fireplace when it gets too hot only to return moments later when you forget the feeling of being singed; a garden overgrown with rainbow roses to the point where they almost look as if they began growing wild, unbridled and free and passionate and imperfect.

which is love to him? he doesn’t quite know.

# FREMINET : tears. he thinks his tears threaten to overflow the rushing sea, bleed into the waves until he dies in a water that cannot drown him. marks that linger as memories fade, reflections on the surface of the sun; the deteriorating seashells picked up from the shaking sand at the bottom of the ocean, forever moved by the presence of another. soft touches and fleeting wishes, dry lips with sobs seeping between the cracks like water, begging for a reprieve from the loneliness that strives to swallow him whole unlike like the sea he loves so dearly — a threat versus a plea, a soft embrace instead of a bruising hold. he doesn’t know which is which.

shaky hands held beneath a star-filled sky, glistening teardrops so plentiful they mimic the galaxies and the sea alike. currents swelling beneath fingertips and seeping beneath skin as he sinks until he can no longer see. screaming, yelling, silence, cries and wails of anything but sorrow, knives to throats and blood spilling beneath a red moon to taint shallows that were never pristine in the first place. tender flesh, calloused fingers, sharp nails digging so deep into each other you could nearly get cut. you pray to the archons that the indents in your unwounded skin scar.

# NAVIA : comfort. a warm dessert melting on the tongue, meringues, saccharine and soft; a hazy memory doused in vanilla and egg whites. beds of flowers whistling in the wind, head leaned against the base of a tree, soft strands of golden hair twirled between fingers and tangling in the grass; forehead kisses, sunsets, lighthearted giggles turned to laughs so plentiful they make your chest ache.

navia wraps her fingers around yours like she never wants to let you go — it’s tender, loving, sweet, and oh so far away. the look in her eyes is distant, clouded, guilty; she gazes at the floor, the ceiling, the corner of your mouth. anywhere she can find and grasp onto but your eyes, or your lips, or your heart, or your soul — her eyes are like the moon over the water, you always told her, and the moon’s view of anything you truly want it to see has been hidden away by a fog rolling in on the horizon.

a doomed ship sails straight into the fog blanketing the sky like it wants to protect the moon to a fault. as you hold her hand tight, aware you’re watching it, there’s an innate sense it will not come back.

#☁️ — 〈 to be read. 〉#crow.💙#🌊 : reblogs.

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yuellii · 5 months

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one final down 😓

only releasing short, sporadic things because of finals season right now guys 💙💙

#still gonna be queuing past works / rbs for now #can’t wait to get back to writing and reading omg #🌧️ : courtyard exch.

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yuellii · 5 months

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baby, we’re the new romantics !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 some born-rich, noisy man falls for a completely normal ( maybe struggling ) woman

feat. childe, referred to as ajax

wc. 2.7k

note. gn reader, modern au, references a scene from I Love Yoo, this is a little birthday fic for one of my very best friends in the whole wide world : @vivinens !!

To put it bluntly, it sucked working at McDonald’s.

Other than the fast-paced environment and the tough remarks from rude customers, what arguably sucked the most was that he worked in the building just across the street. Literally just a few steps and you’d be at risk of seeing him.

It wasn’t that you hated Ajax ( okay, maybe you did a little ); he was a fun way to wind down in-between classes sometimes at university because of his loud personality. And, he was attractive to stand next to, you’ll give him that in addition to being a very understanding friend. But seeing him in the workplace is quite possibly the last thing you could ever want to ask for.

What made matters even worse was during your desperate job search last month, when you got a recruitment offer at the place he worked at. You thought it’d be some small thing like where generic college students worked, not some big multi-million firm in this massive building with workers walking around in suits and pencil skirts galore. And of course, when you met with the mean recruiting lady named Rosalyne for your interview, it was impossible not to spot Ajax at the corner of your eyes with a goofy smile on his face.

And when Ms. Rosalyne went back to scold him after your interview, it was more than obvious you were only here because he pushed your application.

How embarrassing.

“You can try again!” he said to you in good spirits in the university courtyard one week after. The two of you were sitting together as the sun was setting on campus, having both finished all your classes for the day. “They’re opening another clerical position soon since our current one is leaving, apply then!” And to you, he was acting all completely normal in his normal young-adult way, meanwhile you were trying to erase the image of him in a suit from your head.

You sighed, “I don’t think the high-class life of business is for me yet, Ajax.”

The roll of your eyes caused him to visibly deflate. Just how obsessed was he with the idea of you getting hired? “But I want you to work with you so baddd…!” he groaned, dramatically shoving his hands onto his face.Then he leaned back forward, slumping until his forehead came down to rest on your shoulder. Such an attention-grabbing act of depression—you almost came to entertain the idea, too.

“I don’t even have office clothes,” you scoffed, bumping him off your shoulder.

He yelped from the force of your push for a moment before he grabbed your arm, pulling it so harshly with such a force that had you clashing right onto his chest ( Yeah, friends, or something like that ). And even as you began to punch on his chest in protest, he just hugged you tight and whined, “I can buy you some! You’ll fit right in—and I get to see you every day at school and at work!”

Seeing him every day sounded like hell, you were so sure this man was insane.

“You are not buying me office clothes!” you denied, still trying to push yourself away.

“I can totally afford it, though!” he pouted. After he relaxed his grip around your body, you still found it too tough to escape his weird embrace. That’s your karma for being friends with the guy who goes to the gym in-between classes, you suppose. And after more struggling to set yourself free, you eventually gave up as the sunset reduced to silence.

That was when he squeezed you tight once more for a last makeshift hug, then planted an ambiguously-friendly kiss on your cheek as he said, “Let’s go get dinner now? I’ll drive.”

“Yeah, sure. Can we get chicken nuggets?”

He lifted both of your bodies up to your feet, watching as you collected your things off the seat before he led you by the hand to his car. “Pff, you always want nuggets,” he teased. “But yeah, I’m down—there’s a McDonald’s right next to my work, let’s go there while I try to convince you to apply at my job!”

And now you work at said McDonald’s.

You didn’t tell him, of course. Only that you “finally got a job,” so that he could finally stop trying to get you hired at his stuffy building space.

It was pretty busy in the morning when people in office attire would come in for a quick, cheap coffee. Lunch and dinner time was also busy as expected—it was one of the things that made you happy to be a cashier and not one of the cooks or drive-through people.

And the best part about this was that you never saw the uptight Ms. Recruiter Rosalyne here, nor Ajax himself. You knew for a fact that Ajax only went to McDonald’s when it was with you, as he preferred other fast foods, so even if his work was just right there, you really didn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing him. If you did… Well, that would probably be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

It was one o’clock in the afternoon, lunch rush.

People were rude, your coworkers were irritable, customers were in a rush—horrible, really, but also a normal day for you. Just smile and put on that customer service voice and it will soon be over. Plus, you got free chicken nuggets for your own lunch break before this.

It was not until you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans. Well. It was not that common to get a text like that. Your family should know you’re at work; your friends, too. Just one peak—only one, just while the customer in front of you is still holding up the line while he decides what to order. Propping your phone up behind the register, you open it to check your lockscreen.

orange fuckwad: heyyy you want some mcds nuggets?!?!? ;)

Holy shit. Absolutely not.

“Can I order the uhhh…” Oh good lord you have to turn off your phone now. “Can I order the uhhh McLobster?”

“Sorry sir, the McLobster was discontinued five years ago.” You were about to blow your brains out.

“No I swear I just ordered it last week?”

Your eyes kept shifting to the door. And there, finally, in all his glory making your heart absolutely drop in fear, was Ajax coming through the door. And for you, too—to buy you a box of chicken nuggets. In any other case, you’d find it endearing ( and it still was! ) but in this instance you really wanted to die right now.

The customer suddenly raised an eyebrow at you when you shifted your body to the side, trying to use his body as a shield from the eyes of your friend. There was a second cashier next to you—hopefully Ajax will line up on their line instead of yours. And hopefully, you could use this crusty McDonald’s hat to hide your face.

“Hey!” your coworker suddenly called out to you. You looked towards their empty cashier line with a glimmer of hope for good news. “I’m going on my lunch!” Your face dropped. “I’ll see you in 30, yeah?”

No! Not yeah! But you couldn’t do anything but plead with your facial expression as they left to the backroom, leaving Ajax with no choice but to join your line. If you could blow up this whole building right now, God, you would.

Five customers until him, four customers until him, three, two, one—

“Woah!” The surprise on his face felt insulting. Actually, you still used the hat to hide your face as best as you could. It was failing at hiding your identity from him as expected, but at least it helped you obscure the view of his… physique. Him, with his… um, his black slacks and white collared shirt that was just a little too tight on him, and his grey blazer that was thrown over his shoulder. One button at the top unfastened, almost as if he loosened it just to breathe during his lunch break.

And his hair, if you didn’t want to meet his eyes then you were honestly staring there. Whose hair was usually messy and tousled, now slicked perfectly for once with gel, all in a proper yet still very Ajax-way. The sides were in place, meanwhile strands over his eyes and at the top of his hair remained loose in that messy way that still characterized him. God, you might just die from embarrassment and awkwardness right now.

“This is where you work?” he asked, incredulously.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I get for you today?” you smiled. Please, please just go with it.

He looked surprised at your voice, especially since it was so fabricated and one he had not heard before. You just hoped he wouldn’t be a dumb prick to you today, just this once. “Oh, um…” Please, please. “One ten-piece chicken nugget, please.” Thank God.

“Would you like a drink with that?”

“Yes, one large soda, if that’s okay?”

“Will that be all?”

“Uh.” He looked confused. You just stared at him. “Yeah… Yeah, I think so.”

Then he swiped his card, you directed him to the side, and he left the line. With a lingering gaze, of course. He looked like a lost ( and maybe even a little hurt ) puppy after his order, and as much as this made you feel sad for him, you were just glad to get through with him as a customer without any complications. He’ll definitely be bothering you after this, anyways.

He pretty much watched you the entire time he waited for his food, eyeing you with a look of concern that did not belong on his usual expression. But you ignored him for your own betterment—you’d really just rather get through this rush hour of customers. And when his order number was finally called, he held the small bag with nuggets and his large soda with confusion. Oh, right. That food was probably bought for you.

You sent him a look and a head tilt that notioned ‘Just eat it’, and surprisingly, he got it. Ajax, with his pristine proper suit and blazer over his shoulder, sat down at a dirty barstool and ate his ten-piece chicken nuggets. He was still watching you, though; he glanced at you every few seconds while he was chewing. Minutes that felt so long passed, and you just hoped his lunch break would end soon so he could get back to his building.

“Hello again!” You almost jumped in place when you found him in front of you again, having finished his nuggets.

“Ajax,” you grumbled, trying to speak quietly. There was another customer coming to line up behind him. “I can’t talk during my shift.”

“Oh!” He looked at you in innocent surprise for a second, definitely not as depressed as earlier. “No, I was just gonna order.”

You wanted to die. “Didn’t you already…” Clearing your throat, you remembered there was another customer lined up behind him. Thank heavens the lunch rush was over already. Time to put on the customer service voice for him again. “What can I get for you?”

“A box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, please!” he smiled. “And a large soda!”

If you didn’t feel like killing him before, well you certainly did now. And guess what, he ate this order, too! Was he doing this out of spite now? Ordering nuggets and then eating them right in front of you? Because honestly, it was making you less hungry and more confused, if anything. This was definitely not what you expected—but then again, you fully anticipated he’d hold up the line just to talk to you. But no, suddenly he was a McDonald’s nugget fan?

The moment you get out of here, you’re going to twist his ear. Time passes again where you purposely avoid his gaze. So, so much time. Either his lunch break was just incredibly long, or time was just going so slow because he was here. You bet it was the latter.

And then, once again, you find him at the front of your line.

“Hello!” he smiled. He looks happy just to see you. “Can I get a ten-piece box of chicken nuggets?”

“And a large soda with that?” you asked, almost with a sigh.

He looks uneasy, standing to the tips of his toes for a moment. “No,” he drags out with hesitance. “Side of large fries, actually.”

Ooo, how different! It’s the most entertainment you could wish for in a day. And when you shoo him to the side this time, he has the biggest smile on his face. How unusual—in this situation, at least. Then when his order comes, he actually turns to leave this time. He walked to the glass doors with an innocent grin and a large McDonald’s bag in his hand, happily waving to you goodbye. Finally.

“You never told me you work at the McDonald’s right by me!”

He was there waiting for you when you walked out of your shift, packed up, ready to go home, and definitely smelling like grease. “Well aren’t you out early…” you sighed at him. “It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I asked if I could leave so I could come see you sooner,” he frowned. Endearing, once again. And your heart may have skipped just a bit when he lifted up the last brown bag he bought. “I saved these for you. They’re not warm anymore but there’s fries, a soda, and fifteen nuggets… I, uh, couldn’t finish the second order.”

You nearly laughed out. “Why in the world did you order so much anyways?”

“So I could see you again,” he pouted.

He was still wearing his office attire, top button unfastened once again and blazer under his arm once you took the fast food bad again. You might’ve just had nuggets during your lunch break, and this food may be cold and soggy by now, but the thought of him buying it for you made it the best meal in the world. And, it was also the fact he left his own shift early just to see you. He could be nice at times; so nice, it almost comforted the fact he made you want to die earlier.

“You embarrassed me,” you tiredly sighed. The both of you were walking together to his car—how he knew you were dropped off here was beyond you.

“Sorry!” he sheepishly smiled. “I really didn’t think I’d see you there…” Which was understandable, sure, but did he really have to order that many McNuggets just to see you at the cashier stand? “But now that I know you work right next to me…”

“Ajax, no.”

“Oh come on!” He pouted with a considerably loud whine while the both of you crossed the street to his building. You figured he was likely parked behind it, wherever the employee parking was. It still felt a little weird to be in your McDonald’s uniform walking next to a big business building. “I get to see you every lunch break—doesn’t that sound so fun?”

“No not really.”

He groaned even louder again, slumping his shoulders as if he was not dressed like he was going to an office party right now. But then, in some sort of comforting silence, he aligned his arm over your shoulders. It was cute, honestly—how he would still do this despite the fact you smelled like pure grease right now ( and the fact you were trying to ignore the feeling of his arm muscles that were practically bursting through his sleeves ).

He eyed you a few times during this silent walk, watching as you stuffed your face with nuggets and fries. Holy God this tasted so good for some reason…?! You totally deserved this after your shift of rude customers and embarrassing moments—then your good friend Ajax brings you nuggets and fries right after. How romantic.

And speaking of your ‘friend’, he pulled you closer against him, arm practically swallowing your entire being over your shoulders. Not that you were complaining, though; you found his weird obsession with being near you all the time just a little bit cute. And besides, he drove you places, and he bought you chicken nuggets.

Who could not love a man that buys you chicken nuggets?

#🦋 : icymi.

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yuellii · 5 months

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all of the girls you loved before

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ;; breakups weren’t always bitter, especially when she was still your friend. or, in which you catch-up on old memories with your ex girlfriend.

feat. navia, nilou, miko

notes. gn reader, short little drabbles of characters pulled from this poll !!

NAVIA.

“We had our first date here, didn’t we?”

Yes. And it was a Tuesday. Navia hated Tuesdays. Today was another Tuesday, and what should’ve been normal probably was a sour reminiscence in her mind. First date was always innocent—a Fontainian coffee shop the one time both of your schedules allowed it.

“We did,” she shortly replied. There was a pout in her voice, one that she hoped sounded as spoiled and passive as she hoped it would. But not one of her muscles could control the quiver in her lip as she spared you a glance, noticing how there was no longer a light in your eyes at this place anymore.

Did you stop fantasizing about this place? Did this cafe no longer make your heart dazzle at the thought of your first date? Was she really the only one who remembered it so clearly?

Your first date was on a Tuesday. Your next one was on a Saturday. Your first kiss together was on a Monday. She hated herself for remembering all of this, especially now that you’re no longer an item. And, she hated you more for not remembering any of this. But as she watched you bite into a pastry, the same way as you did all those years ago on your first date, she hated being your friend.

Those eyes of hers, ones she can never control: if you spared her a look for just a second, you could see the yearning in them. The love and loyalty that still came with her heart.

But on this dreaded weekday, the most she could long for now was an outing between two best friends.

Navia hated Tuesdays.

NILOU.

“Remember when we used to swing here in the early mornings?”

She found a smile making its way to her lips when your words reached her ears. “Yes,” of course she remembered. Those days when the sun barely knelt engaged to the sky, and the dew of the swing would wet the edges of her dress. A time when you’d still look at her with blooming dawn in your eyes and when whispered affections scattered upon the light air.

The sky was pitch dark now; which, sure, is totally blamed on the hour of the night. But it felt weird to sit here next to you when the sun was long gone. She’s only ever been here in the daylight, when your gaze would still shine like the dancer herself was sweet honey to your tea, or when your love was still sparkling in the dewy grass.

“Nilou? Nilou?”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see you looking at her from the adjacent swing. Your brows were furrowed in concern, but due to the light—or lack thereof—she saw only blankness. This was not concern out of love or passion, now replaced with a simple friendliness she came to hate.

“Sorry,” she sheepishly said. “I just miss those mornings.”

“We can have them again,” you proposed. “We can have picnics here and sit and swing like we used to.”

Don’t play with my heart like that. It was plain fully obvious you meant it as a friend—to only spend mornings here as friends, but never lovers, not anymore. She misses you, she thinks. You and your world that she was no longer a part of.

YAE MIKO.

“We met in the summer, didn’t we?”

She only hummed in affirmation. Summertime stung like a stick on her skin. And yet, that feeling when Inazuma gets humid and the sun shines eternal, she associates it all with you. She met you in the summer, and fell in love with you that same season.

She laughed. “We did, we did!” She teased you a bit, ignorant to the redness staining her own cheeks. “Why, are we going to be celebrating our anniversary together?” There was a taunting smile on her face, one that was nudging you on. But when all you did was playfully scoff and brush her off, she could not stop the sinking feeling in her chest. Curse the art of romance.

She didn’t like the way you just casually brushed her shoulder like that. So passively, like any friend would do. But it was worse when the missed the feeling of your fingers around her arm, holding tightly with past love and affections that were no longer there. No, she was just a friend now. No need for any strings or attached feelings.

You split ways on the winter solstice. How dreadful that was.

“Perhaps we should celebrate the anniversary of our breakup, instead,” you joked. You genuinely laughed. She genuinely hated it. Winter was cold. And when the cold came, there were only dark days as all her love ended in ‘goodbye’. Then when winter ended, springtime left her a broken vase pouring out her love from the cracks of her heart.

And if she could go back in time to love you again, she would.

#🦋 : icymi.#I FORGOT ABT THIS

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yuellii · 5 months

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#winter bc of all the snowy wolf packs you send 🥸#🌊 : reblogs.#crow.💙

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yuellii · 5 months

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catch me before daylight

feat. ningguang, scaramouche ( separate )

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they react to your words, “if i die tonight,” and how they respond to it

note. female reader, not proofread, nudity (ningguang)

NINGGUANG.

Her robe falls to the floor in a heap of mess that once was not there. Perhaps it was a few moons ago, such a splitting time when she was still organized and clean—a time she can’t remember well anymore.

In here, it’s a steaming warm bathroom. In here, there is a possibly twisted sense of tranquility that seeps through the cracked, marble tiles. In here, a certain scent floats around, so atmospheric it could choke her with a dream of death and delight both at the same time.

But, in here, there is you.

“Ningguang,” you addressed from the tub, brows quite visibly furrowing together at the sight of her lowering herself into the warm water across from you. “You shouldn’t bathe with a sickly person.”

She scoffed rather insultingly. “You’re too naive to think a little illness can affect me.” The look on her face was more than annoyed—perplexed at the littlest of things, actually. You could see the way she scrunched her nose merely as she removed her clip from her hair, not to mention the hand motions she makes of discomfort as she settles into the tub. And yet, you frowned all the same. She can’t hide it, truly, the tired look in her eyes, whose concern shines brighter than the sun. The little shifting glances she makes only screams how badly she misses you. “And besides,” she continued with a tremble upon her lip, “look at you. You’re so weak you cannot even clean yourself on your own.”

You could not help but laugh lightly at her comment. To anyone else, they might’ve taken it as an insult, but you’ve come to accept it. These arms of yours were now too frail even carry a tub of water.

“Your sickness is getting worse day by day,” Ningguang scolded, “and yet you were still ambitious enough to try and bathe here without my help?”

“But the duties of the Tianqian is to rule and control commerce, not to babysit some poor, poor person.”

“But the duties of Ningguang is to care for her lover.”

Your heart fluttered as you fell silent, but in a way that practically jabbed at your stomach and made you feel sick.

A deafening silence is what spread throughout the messy bathroom, lined with your tossed clothes, medicine bottles, robs, and the likes. There was something distasteful in the air, and you know it was all because of you. To be a setback did not feel pleasant, even as Ningguang scrubbed soap in your hair with the most gentlest of fingers, and even as she poured water from above your head.

She wasn’t that deceptive, honestly. You could see it, everyone could see it: The tire in her eyes, the overworked callouses in her hands. It was hard to look at your lover and see the dark circles under red hues that used to be so full of joy and sparks of mischief. She loved you, maybe too much, and it showed. You hated looking at her. She could never fathom the way her gaze made you feel, one that was so full of adoration for you, but also a sliver of pain given by the same person she loves. You receive her love, but is your love in return even worth it?

“Ningguang.”

“Mm.” She continued washing you, sitting behind you now as she scrubbed at your back. You could only thank the archons above that you didn’t have to see her face right now.

“If I die tonight…” You almost choked when you felt her hands come to an abrupt stop. “…will you finally get some rest?”

She stayed silent. But there, right on your back, you could feel as her gentle hands slowly hardened into fists. They were balled atop your skin, as if holding herself together, but by gods… she was shaking. It almost hurt to cry, especially when she can’t see you like this. But she couldn’t control it anymore when her trembling arms snaked around your waist, pulling you so close to her. And it was there that she burst, sobbing so painfully against the back of your shoulder.

Her breaths were ragged and shaky, you could barely make out a gravely stuttered line of “Don’t say something like that,” but you still remained silent.

You were both so tired. She was tired of taking care of you, and you were tired just seeing her destroy herself. And yet, even amidst this spiral of madness brewing in her own chambers, she still could not even live with the idea of you dying so soon—truly, who could? But this illness was not controllable anymore; Her money could not buy you health anymore.

She continued to cry against your shoulder even as the warmth started to rise from the water, leaving you feeling emptier than if you were already dead.

And, leaving her feeling lonelier than even before she met you.

SCARAMOUCHE.

“—And that was when I took the gnosis, and ran away with it.”

“Haha, nice fantasy,” you passively grinned, tipping down the front of his hat just to get him annoyed (which was, as always, a success). “But everyone knows that The Fair Lady was the one who obtained the electro gnosis.”

He grumbled. “No, she died.”

“No, she died after securing it,” you argued back. What was common knowledge to you—and, well, mostly everyone—seemed like a completely different story in his eyes, as if he saw the world with a different set of lenses the past century. He told of many tales of the Fatui with a good handful of them being utterly twisted or just plainly incorrect. And, he told some tales that were shocking accurate, definitely far too in detail for a mere ‘wanderer’ to know about the organization.

You asked him, only once. This guy was so cryptic that he never gave an answer you could quite understand.

“Because I’m Scaramouche,” was his answer many weeks ago. “I was the sixth Harbinger, I was there to witness it myself.”

“Like Hell I’d believe it,” you groaned. “The sixth seat has been empty for years.”

“That’s because I’m dead.” And there it was, another cryptic, undefined answer that he somehow just expected you to understand. “Breathing, but while not a soul in the world remembers you, your name, or the things you did—that’s not exactly, is it? In my opinion, I died!” And then he laughs. It’s wholehearted, it’s coming from his chest—a laugher that seems so innocent like he’s the happiest man in the world.

You sighed. “You need to stop lying like this. If you’re dead, then how am I speaking to you now?”

He gasped in an air of carefree excitement. “Oh, oh, let me tell you the whole thing.” And then he talks of Sumeru, the nation you’re sitting in now, and the overthrow of the academic scholars. Which was another weird factor, because you were physically present for this timeline of events. And yet, you don’t remember of a lot of this. A robot, a tree, a fight.

And above it all, a worldwide memory erasure of the man that stood before you now, the man with a big hat, yet no name.

Several days pass, perhaps it’s been months now since you’ve started talking to him. The House of Hearth has you stationed here in Port Ormos, and he somehow knew of its ties to Arlecchino, the mother of your orphanage. It saves you the explanation, you suppose, but his knowledge of the entirety of Fatui operations has you questioning if he really was the sixth, after all. “What’s wrong with you today?” he raises an eyebrow at you, watching as you sit on the grass against a tree, staring into the water

You sadly smile. “The Knave ordered our group to storm the Corps of Thirty tomorrow morning.”

He scoffed so loudly he almost spit on the ground. “That’s probably the dumbest order that crazy woman has ever given,” he complains as if he knew Arlecchino personally. “Those are trained military men on their own grounds, she’s going to get you all captured or killed.”

“Mhmm,” you only nodded, albeit quieter than the crickets in this moonless night. “And I’ll be tagging along.”

“Are you insane?!” he suddenly shouts, and you had to admit this was the first time you have ever seen his face look so furiously in shock. “You’re going to die there, can’t you run that through your thick skull?! You don’t have to follow the orders of that woman, just because she’s insane doesn’t mean you have to do it!”

“Order’s are orders,” you laughed. But it was so down, empty, and pathetic of a laugh that it made him only more crazed over your situation. “It’s whatever,” you quickly brushed off, “You got another story for me tonight, hat boy?”

“I do, actually,” he boomed. His voice was still quite loud… And maybe, just maybe, you could tell a little his exasperation came from genuine concern. “Once upon a time, there was a really stupid girl who made really stupid decisions, such as blindly following the orders of her ‘Mother’ until it got herself killed.”

You scoffed. “Us fatuus are always prepared for death,” you said. Which was true, sure, but… But I don’t want to die. “Hey…”

He looked back to you. Perhaps it was your delusional mindset obscuring your vision right now, but you could’ve sworn—the slightest bit of hope that you changed your mind just flashed against the light of his eyes.

“If I die tonight…”

“Then we’d both be ‘dead,’ wouldn’t we?”

You look at him in a horrified kind of surprise. And he sits there, suddenly smiling at you with the most genuine grin of excitement you’ve seen on him thus far. His demeanor completely switched, like he grasped the opportunity to convince you the moment it was presented to him. “Think about it,” he goes, “you can leave the Fatui just like I did once—and look, I’m fine!—and no know will know! We’ll be like the dead walking among the living, the murderous fatuus now wanderers of Teyvat… Just you and I, isn’t that much more of an interesting way to live?”

To die and be forgotten… To betray the organization that raised you… It never sounded so amazing until now.

“Come on,” he encourages as he extends his hand out to you. “Leave ‘living’ in the past, and be reborn. You can be so much more free.”

Freedom, that was the gift of the dead.

#🦋 : icymi.

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yuellii · 5 months

Text

gn reader ; no aq spoilers ; slight phantom au

“You’ll sing for me tonight, right?”

Eyes sharp from the end of the gondola, Arlecchino’s voice cut through the air of the Fontaine sewers like a blade through the mist. Her glaring gaze met upon doe eyes, and you feel small at the rusted metal of this canal. Yet, she holds her stare to a person shivering like so, even as her hands steadily wade the oar down the water.

By her words, it was past midnight now. No wonder you felt so cold. “At the Opera Epiclese,” she continued, voice booming louder than the splashes of water. If not for the unsteadiness of this boat, your body would have flinched from the way her voice echoes off the metal walls. “Where the richest of Fontainians will hear the music I taught you.”

On the contrary, a voice like yours was meek against a Harbinger of her status. “I… Suppose so…”

“And why so fearful?” she asked you. You stared up at her face, looking for signs of any irritation that you prayed you wouldn’t find; but it was impossible to seek any reason when your Lord had the eyes of the Devil himself. You were only lucky she seemed to be in a good mood for now. “Do you think I have not trained my muse well enough?”

You stuttered at the low rumble of her voice, a deep vibrato that coursed through the veins of your nervousness, simply too rattling to bear. “You have,” you quickly reassured, not wanting to upset her. “I’m just having…” A gulp forced its way down your throat, feeling as the cold air nipped at your skin like little sewing needles teasing at your very existence. “Second thoughts…”

“‘Second thoughts’?” A curious hum followed her echo, but you knew very well such ‘curiosity’ was a fleeting disguise for a thinning patience. “About what, dove?”

About you, your mind cut to thinking. About my life und your hands—For you knew if you sang even a single word of her piece, this little performance would be over. Her own personal contract of greed would be fulfilled, and this showtime would end with you locked in a golden little cage as her pretty songbird of music.

Just this one performance, and you’d have sold your soul.

“About my part in the show,” you meekly mumbled. “Lyney and Lynette should steal away the audience already with their magic tricks, right…? Perhaps my operatic ending would be too drastic of a change to consider—”

Half your world turned black as the pressure of her darkened hands wrapped around your neck. Her breath was cold against your ear like sin, and your vision was attempting to recover from the sudden wind as you blinked to the sight of the metal ceiling of the canal above. Sterling silver, cold as the demonic nails of her fingers; your body shivered despite the pain in your back from hitting the edge of the boat.

“You’re acting like a child,” she spews through gritted teeth. You’ve annoyed her.

The grip on your neck tightens in a way that’s sharp, so lovingly deadly that you feel her obsession with you through her fingertips—through the oxygen your Lord expelles from you.

“Because all of this… sounds like excuses…”

A whine escapes your throat when she releases you, pulling taut the necklace around your neck—the one she gave to claim you. And just as your lungs desperately inhale for just a moment of air, her mouth is on yours in such a sinful way, biting your lip until it’s bruised, bloodied, and you’re gasping once again to breathe.

“Don’t forget your role,” she spits out harshly, throwing your body down again by the neck as your back collides with the rocky boat. And when she returns to her position at the end—rowing down the canal with much more insanity than before—you realize from the soreness of your body that your life was over before this contract even started. “You will sing for me tonight,” the Knave said.

She smiled; Only a demon would look such a way.

“And by then, you’ll be bound to me.”

ok now i go study :thumbs up emoji

#🦋 : icymi.

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yuellii · 5 months

Note

Hello hello!

I saw your “Them comforting reader after a long day” post and i thought how about a “reader comforts them after a long day” with Furina/Mona and whoever you choose. I’m gonna go back to bing read your posts now! Take care!

Comforting them after a long day

characters: Furina / Mona x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: maybe slight hurt/comfort, but mostly fluff

a/n: Couldn't exactly go the full comforting route in Mona's path, bc let's be honest. That girl is too proud to show even a little bit of weakness or vulnerability, but this should do as well.

Oh, also: FINALLY A REQUEST FOR MONA I LOVE HER SO MUCH I- SOJDVNIJSDVNSIDVNSIDJVNIJSDNV

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

Even though Furina had promised herself not to hide behind a facade any longer, there were times she instinctively fell back on her old habits, the 500 year old autopilot that made it possible for her to keep her secret for so long not disappearing overnight. So when she finally closed the doors to her apartment, only to immediately turn around, lean onto them and let gravity do its job until she had slid down to a sitting position, Furina finally closed her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh she had held back for far too long.

“That was a big one. Want to talk about it?” Your voice suddenly rang out, causing her eyes to snap open and quickly land on your silhouette in the hallway as she struggled to leap back up, embarrassment flaming up in her as she tried her best to play it off as if nothing happened, only for her to end up leaning awkwardly against the door.

“Want to talk about what?” Furina shot back immediately, only to silently cringe at the way her words came out, putting on a smile as she slowly took off her shoes and coat and made her way over to the living room, being closely followed by you.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s also fine. Can I take your hand for a bit?” You eventually stated with an understanding smile, grabbing her head once she gave you a nod and starting to massage it by pressing your thumbs against different spots.

It wasn’t like Furina didn’t want to tell you… actually getting her complaints off her chest probably wouldn’t feel so bad. There was nothing stopping her except old habits and the fear something bad might happen once she opened up, that she inherited from her “former life” as Fontaine’s Archon.

“ No, I want to. But I’ll warn you. It might be a long and ultimately boring tale, so are you sure you want to list–” Furina interrupted her melancholic monologue when you pressed against a particular point on her hand, causing her to suddenly yelp in pain as you briefly stopped and looked up at her once again, your face asking her if you should stop. Just like with her opening up, your hand-massage was painful, yet also felt… pleasant and before long she signaled you to continue before reopening her mouth. “–so are you sure you want to listen to it?”

Without a moment of hesitation you responded, giving her a determined nod as you continued to carefully massage the same spot until stopped being painful, showing Furina one last encouraging smile until her complaints and worries started to pour out of her mouth. The former Archon talking until she felt the corners of her mouth dry up, with you intently listening to each and every one of her words.

…Maybe being more open every once in a while didn’t feel too bad.

Mona

Being an Astrologer was what Mona had always dreamed of being, so when it came to it, she wasn’t scared of pouring every single second of her free time into her work, even when chances were her research would reach a dead-end. Because even with fate ordaining everything that ever happened or still lied in the future, there was no way of knowing how things were going to turn out without at least giving them a shot.

So having her the last couple of weeks worth of work turned out to be for nothing when it became clear it wasn’t going anywhere was nothing Mona was unfamiliar with. It was simply a part of her job after all… but even though the great Astrologer Mona Megistus would never admit to being bothered by setbacks, you knew her better than to fall for her unaffected facade.

“Do you have ingredients at home?” You suddenly asked in the middle of your walk, immediately gaining Mona’s attention as she quickly got lost in thought, trying to remember what food she had used up and what still remained, only to eventually give up and shrug her shoulders, letting out a small sigh as she straightened her hat.

“There might still be some left. I can’t say for sure though, keeping stock of my supplies wasn’t exactly something I kept in mind these last few days,” she admitted only for you to quickly whip around your head, a smile adorning your lips as you came up with a suggestion.

“Let’s go out and eat something! That’s something we didn’t do in quite a while.” Considering Mona’s thoughtful look and how she paused in her tracks for a few seconds, it was fair to say that she wasn’t completely against your proposal, even if you were sure it would still require a lot of convincing to get her to finally agree.

“I’m not sure. Going out to eat when you could just as well buy ingredients and cook something is a waste of money isn’t it?” She hesitantly responded, still pondering as her fingers continued to scratch her chin. Truth be told. You couldn’t agree with her more. You had recently spent a lot of your money on things that in hindsight didn’t exactly prove to be the wisest investments, but even so, you felt as if it was your duty to get Mona to eat something tasty today, even if it meant eating nothing but bread and butter for a few days.

You knew Mona better than to not notice how demoralized she seemed the last few days, her sudden mood change and her increase in free time coinciding too well for it to mean anything except her latest research turning out to be for naught. Of course you knew better than to confront her directly about it… something that would only lead to Mona getting defensive as she’d deny feeling down about anything, too proud and stubborn to open up. And so, the only option left was for you to do what you did best.

“I know… But you’ve been so busy these last few weeks so I couldn’t see you all that much and... I’ve missed you,” you explained while trying your best impression of a puppy, “So can we please go out today?” When you saw Mona’s face heat up slightly as she quickly glanced around the two of you, looking if there was anyone in earshot, you knew your plan turned out to be a success, having to do your best to stop your lips from curling up into a smile when she let out a yet another deep sigh.

“Fine, but stop saying embarrassing things. We’re in public.”

#the way girlie is still tryna fake it 😭#furina x reader #mona x reader #🌊 : reblogs.#henry.💙

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