#gi angst

the notion of fate was uncomfortable. knowing that his life was taking turns he barely had any control over and that even the choices he makes have been written in stone long before he even came to life – awful mistake his mother committed, by the way. 

he had always longed for freedom. always wanted to grow his own wings and disappear in skies his mother could never reach. that none of his acquaintances could ever dream of ascending to. 

maybe, that was why he had so foolishly fallen for her. 

it was so easy, falling in love with her. like a slope he was going down on, growing steeper and steeper the closer he would get to her. 

the first time scaramouche had ever thought of fate with no disdain at the back of his mind was when he had gotten out of a coffee shop he was a regular at. 

getting his coffee was a normal part of his routine, and so was walking down the street on the way to the tattoo shop he worked at. 

bumping into strangers that were blindly skipping to a song playing loudly from their headphones and spilling his beloved beverage all over them, however, was not part of his day-to-day life. 

he didn’t even find it in him to curse the girl out, standing still at the apologetic smile she was offering him and stupidly handing her over a pack of tissues he had found in his bag. 

and when she jokingly asked for his number before considering forgiving him when he apologized in return, he found himself unable to laugh along. he had simply stared at the brightness of her smile, imprinted the sweetness of her laughter into his brain and wished he could record it so he could hear it over and over again. 

and so his number did find its way into her phone. 

scaramouche didn’t know how he ended up in the whirlwind of her life. 

she didn’t take long before confessing to a lot of her heartaches. a couple of weeks in, and he was already growing a sense of attachment to her, unfamiliar yet surprisingly not as terrifying as he had imagined it’d be. a couple of months after, and he was growing a feeling of hatred towards her parents and friends and an even stronger sense of protectiveness towards her. 

he didn’t know everything, of course he didn’t. but he knew what the bruises on the inner side of her elbows were and he knew what the bandages around her arms and thighs were for. 

she liked that he never questioned it. she liked that he didn’t look into her stuff and didn’t try to take away her last thread of sanity away from her. and she liked him. 

“you’re pretty and you let me do what i want,” she had simply told him when he asked her why. a giggle slipped past her lips and that was enough for him to press his lips to hers, tasting the remnants of beer on her tongue as they melted into each other at the back of his car. 

the warning signs were glowing at the back of scaramouche’s head, but he didn’t find it in him to put a stop to her descent. he didn’t want to be another controlling figure in her life but he didn’t want to let her go so easily. 

and the fear paralyzed him. he didn’t mind the blood at the bruises, didn’t mind caring for her and uplifting her when she needed it the most, spending most of his nights by her side in fear of not finding her knocking obnoxiously loud on the door of his apartment the next morning. 

it tore his heart apart, really, the crying and the begging and the spiraling. 

it wasn’t like she never tried. she made an effort. a noticeable one. but she was so fragile, so breakable, it only took a little push for her to fall into her past patterns again and he was left picking up the pieces and mending her back again, praying this time would be the right one. 

it had never been. 

running into the hospital has become an oddly common thing for scaramouche, crouching on the bedside and holding her hand tightly into his own while he prayed for something. anything. 

granting her wishes had become his routine as well, folding to her demands and handing over her dreams on a silver platter with ease – hell, a golden one even. he’d do anything to bring back the brightness he had fallen for in the first place, his gaze softening as he watched her from a distance. 

“i’ve always seen this in movies,” she had confessed, out of breath from running around the flower field, letting herself fall on her back, her head resting next to his as he closely studied her. 

she looked carefree, for once. like all her worries and torments had melted under the setting sun.

“always wanted to run around flowers,” she laughed breathlessly, turning to look back at him. 

scaramouche had smiled at her, sitting up so he could pick a flower and put it in her hair. 

“you look pretty,” he told her, finger tracing each of her features. etching them into his memory. and it was almost as if she could read his mind, as if she could tell he was trying to engrave everything about her fleeting existence before she would eventually disappear from his own. 

“i don’t wanna become a hot topic when i’m gone.”

when. 

scaramouche always knew her choice was definitive and that he couldn’t do anything about it. but he couldn’t help the fear and the tears and the inability to imagine a world without her. he couldn’t figure out how he’d come to live once she wasn’t there anymore. she hadn’t been in his life for long yet he couldn’t go on in a world void of her. 

“you’re selfish!” she yelled at him, crystal drops spilling down her face furiously. 

grabbing the closest thing to her, she threw it at him in a fit, followed by another. and another. 

“you’re just like the rest of them,” a sob tore from her throat, the glass in her hand shattering on the floor as she let go of it. 

a small sigh was the only response scaramouche had given her, taking a hold of her wrist and pulling her into his chest. his face buried in her hair, he rocked the both of them back and forth, his throat constricted with words he knew would only enrage her more. 

so he remained quiet, shushing her sobs and cries, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if his arms tightened a little, if his cold body could warm her aching soul a tiny bit, then she would stop fading away from him. 

“i just want you to stay with me,” he finally confessed, his hands gently holding onto her shoulders, eyes searching for hers. “i know it’s selfish, but y’know i can’t just lose you, yeah?”

at the pout forming on her lips, he could only smile fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before drawing her into him again, hands running up and down her back. 

“you won’t let me die, right?” she had asked him, unable to fall asleep, laying in each other’s arms. she didn’t really let him answer, humming under her breath before continuing : “you can’t let me go. please?” and scaramouche caved in, again, the hold he had on her almost suffocating until the next morning. 

and she got better. she did. for some time, that is, but there was hope growing in scaramouche. 

her syringes were gone and her pillies were forgotten at the back of her cabinets. he didn’t find himself examining how deep and how concerning her injuries were for a while and, God, was she blindingly bright now. 

walking ahead of him as they found themselves near a beach on their impromptu road trip, hands in his pockets while she ran on the sand, screaming when the water creeped too close and twirling to whatever music was playing in her head. 

“feels like you’re healin’ my inner child or somethin’,” she giggled in between bites, squealing happily as he fed her more barbecued meat. 

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” scaramouche had scolded but he couldn’t deny the warmth engulfing his heart. he was doing something right. whatever the hell it was, it was working. and he hoped it’d remain this way forever. 

it was short-lived. 

back from their road trip, she found herself in trouble with her parents. and he found himself patching up her forearms and wrists and failing to hide away her little bottles. 

and while he had gotten used to the mess of her life, it had never felt so decisive. so… final. like her decision was made. like she was following a detailed plan. no amount of begging and fighting her over this would ever work anymore. and for the first time ever since he had gotten wrapped up into this whole thing, scaramouche was feeling hopeless. there was no escape route, no exit door. 

“oh baby,” she had cooed, finding him biting harshly on his bottom lip while scalding tears ran down his cheeks, gripping onto the kitchen counter so tightly. “‘m really sorry,” she whispered, hands holding onto his face adoringly. it was so cruel of her, he found himself thinking, letting a first sob fall past his lips. with a tender smile, she wiped the traces of his sorrow away with her thumb. so loving and sweet. 

he hated her for it. 

“y’know i can’t do this,” she murmured into his hair, holding him to her chest as his nails dug into her t-shirt and skin. because maybe, just maybe, if he carved himself into her, if he merged their beings together, then she’d never find a way to dig a chasm between them both. “y’know i can’t stay.”

not even for me? how can you leave me here? y’know i can’t do this without you. 

but that would be heartless of him. so scaramouche didn’t say that. he simply lifted his head to look into her eyes, finding nothing but endless love in them. 

yet it wasn’t unconditional, and that was probably more painful than anything else. 

“at least make it through tonight?” he pleaded weakly, his voice shattered and shaky. 

“promise.” 

the next morning, scaramouche woke up to a cold bed, a note, and a hole in his heart.

she didn’t even leave much. just a small i love you, a badly drawn heart and a cup of coffee, way too sweet for his liking. 

and him. 

she left him navigating his life blindly, like his only source of light had been taken away from him. he couldn’t see ahead of him, couldn’t perceive anything around him. he didn’t even find it in him to hate her for breaking such a hastily made promise. 

“you’ve always been a liar,” he told her, gently settling a bouquet of chrysanthemums in front of her. sitting on the grass cross-legged, he huffed fondly at all the times he would catch her red-handed, twisting the truth to her favor and burning in shame when he’d narrow his eyes suspiciously at her. 

“didn’t think you could be so good at it, though,” scaramouche sighed, tracing the petals in his hand. he scooted over next to her, leaning his back onto the large tree trunk behind them, barely able to make out the colors of the endless flowers blooming ahead of them, the moonlight not doing much to help him out. 

“hope you like this place, i picked it out for you,” he chuckled, leaning his head onto the freezing stone sitting by his side. and he wished that this time, when sleep takes him away, it’d never let him go. 

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAINSLEIF

five hundred years ago is when dainsleif committed the gravest mistake of his life. he was the twilight sword, a royal guard sworn to protect the people and the royalties of khaenri’ah. his people placed their trust in him to stop the destruction of the nation, only to watch them turn into monsters from the curse laid upon them.

the castle he enters with the traveler and paimon holds many memories he wishes to forget. it was occupied by the eclipse dynasty, the ruler of khaenri’ah before its destruction. he was well acquainted with the heir at the time: you, and soon fell in love. he passes by your room, where he killed you to stop your transformation. realizing what he had done, he left for them to suffer.

“dainsleif,” the abyss herald sneers. dainsleif is so used to that tone of voice. him and the rest of the abyss, especially its leader, have the right to resent him. the traveler and paimon are not here to back him up as they are looking for the twin, so he must atone his own sins himself.

“do whatever you need to do,” dainsleif says, starry voids emitting from his palms. “i don’t intend to hold back.”

the curse of immortality. how sickening. for five hundred years, he has wandered aimlessly for information about his nation. regardless of the amount he has gathered, he wants to end his journey here. he trusts the traveling duo to answer the rest for him.

is death supposed to be this painful? well-deserved for a coward like him. he can sense the satisfaction from the herald destroying him inside his body with hydro. the abyss now has one less problem to deal with. dainsleif can feel himself slipping away, departing the world still a sinner. 

“sir dainsleif. their highness requests your presence.” he is at the castle, decorated with life instead of the dust and cracks when he first arrived. the guard with him possesses no signs of abyssal features. everyone here doesn’t.

behind the double doors is you admiring the plants on the balcony. he gapes at your appearance: the heir of the eclipse dynasty, beautiful and regal as ever. you thank the guard for bringing him over, and they take their leave. this can’t be real.

“my dear dainsleif.” he loses his composure, rushing over to you to pull you into his embrace. your eyes soften upon feeling his sobs on your neck. “my love? are you alright?”

he sniffs, tightening his grip. your touch, your voice, your love for him, he misses them all. “forgive me, your highness. let’s stay like this for a while.”

“i told you to drop the formalities when we’re alone. we’re lovers, aren’t we?” you chuckle, your fingers finding purchase in his blonde locks. oh, how he misses that feeling. “and what are you saying sorry for? we’re all human here. if that makes you feel better, we can stay like this as long as you like.”

dainsleif lifts his head to kiss your knuckles and then presses his lips on yours. he does not know what brought him here, but he is truly grateful. whatever this realm is called, as long as you’re by his side, he will always be forgiven.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

tartaglia is naive about the future. the desire to protect it influences his decision to serve the tsaritsa. with the mora he earned as a harbinger, he hopes to buy his family a house and send teucer to school. when the war is over, he plans to settle with you and live in a cabin where the two of you ice fish with your children.

if only it was that easy. his family is suffering from financial hardships, and the mora he sends is their savior. as for you, you severed ties with him a long time ago because of moral differences. in fact, you lead the faction that opposes the cryo archon and the fatui as your act of revenge for your family.

the palace is in shambles. the traveler and paimon escort the tsaritsa out of the throne room to allow you and tartaglia to compromise. your mind is not easily swayed as expected, given that you spent most of your life waiting to kill. your fate has been decided, when bloodlust overtook him and made him pierce his weapon through your stomach.

“no!” he cradles your body into his arms. his grief causes his delusion to spiral out of control, bringing the palace to destruction. the traveler and paimon rush back inside the room, yelling at the harbinger to get out of there. but he chooses to stay.

“traveler, can you please do me a favor?” they look at him in shock when he places the tip of their on his chest. “put me out of my misery before i lose control. i want to see my friend again. and when you see my family, tell them i’m sorry for everything.”

swift and painless, exactly how he wants death to feel like. the boulders come crashing down upon you and him, and he blacks out. he wonders if the tsaritsa and the traveler will succeed in preventing the second cataclysm. he wonders how his family will handle the news. teucer will be affected the most, feeling betrayed by his big brother lying that he’ll come home soon.

he wonders about you. if you two ever come to a mutual understanding, will the future be any different?

“papa!” a voice of a child calls, waking him up to a scenery full of snow. he spots a cabin in the distance, where a little girl is waving at him with a proud grin. she runs up to him with a bucket in tow, tripping on lumps of ice along the way.

“papa, look! i caught some fish!” she exclaims, showing him the content of her bucket. a cacophony of high-pitched screams echo. more children spook him by hugging his legs.

“good job, baby. you found papa.” he gasps at the sight of you kissing the girl’s forehead. he can’t believe it. “okay, kids. since papa is here, let’s go home. we’re going to eat fish for dinner.”

“yay!” the kids who seem to be his children happily zoom to the cabin, making you chuckle. tartaglia doesn’t waste any time hugging you tight. he can’t lose you again.

“ajax?” it’s been a while since you called him by his birth name. you cup his cheeks with worry when you see tears streaming down his face. “are you okay?”

he nods, kissing you as if his life depends on it. “i’m okay. shall we go home? we don’t want to keep our kids waiting, do we?”

hand in hand, the two of you follow your children to the cabin. in a future where a war between all creatures of teyvat is over, ajax is finally home.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI

the past six thousand years have been prolific of brutality. old friends and acquaintances were subjected to erosion, being forced to neutralize them. one is unfortunate enough to perish from the archon war, leading to the creation of liyue harbor.

if there is one thing to take away from her advice, it’s about the concept of change. he is the type of person to slowly adapt into it. her death and the death of the land they both created is not easy to accept. change isn’t a bad thing, she had said. he did not take her words into heart until he met you.

you’re a mortal who lived in a village, you spent more time exploring the outskirts without letting everyone know. you couldn’t care less, having a dream to live in a lively city like liyue. a certain archon would’ve loved you, for you valued freedom. 

he finds you to be quite humorous. once you joked about eloping with the former archon somewhere teeming with fireflies and crystalflies. when he asked you to define the term, you brushed it off and changed the subject. if he knew you weren’t kidding, you wouldn’t have fallen victim to your marriage.

shame, at such a young age too. he regrets not being able to keep you safe, reminding him of his failure with his old friends and the people who are fighting in the second cataclysm by his side. at the climax of the war, he comes face to face with the gods who stirred the calamities around the world for centuries. as much as he wants to stray from violence, he can’t let them win.

“i will no longer stay silent,” he growls, summoning his pillars around incoming enemies. contracts are sacred, no matter who he established them with. breaking any of those would result in facing the wrath of the rock. breaking the one he signed with celestia would mean he would suffer under his own wrath.

gold liquid spills onto the floor, and his ears are blocked by white noise. no, he can’t die like this. not right this instant. his allies haven’t reached an advantage yet. how is it possible for the strongest deity to already fall like this?

six thousand years of changes and sacrifices. the geo element is strong and unmoving, yet it can also crumble. zhongli has to keep on fighting for the sake of his allies and those who have perished, and yours. all he needs to do is take that extra step to victory.

“zhongli?” that voice is familiar. too familiar. he gazes at his swarms of fireflies and crystalflies circling around your figure. your fingers lingers across his cheek with a somber smile. “my dear, you looked troubled in your sleep. do you want to talk about it?”

he leans on your shoulder, inhaling your scent. he’s so tired, enduring six thousand years worth of cycles of life and death among his nation. “hm, i will eventually. but please let me rest first, darling…”

“okay,” you hum, linking your hand with his. “rest well, zhongli. if you need a shoulder to cry on, i will be here. i won’t ever leave your side.”

you tilt his head to kiss him, tasting the salt of his tears on your lips. his allies may be gone and treasured in his memories, you choose to remain by his side and give him relief that he won’t be alone. not anymore.

zhongli is not the same person he was before, and believes he will never be. cradling the finger adorned with the ring crafted from the abundant rocks in liyue, it gives him hope. you are his pillar. when at his lowest, you and your army of lights will guide him back to the surface.

In the past, he has often been cruel as he is to others. Even the traveler would comment on his behavior, trying to dissuade her in 'helping' him when he didn't even want to be helped. However, it seemed like she didn't listen.

It led to him to continue his ways. He had harmed her over and over, his actions, words, and even behavior cutting her like knives. However, each time he did, she strove on.

In a sense of irony, it seemed like she was giving her all to help him. Even if it meant she got little in return.

Years had passed since then, and each time he remembered, he recalled the events that happened after. The stunt he pulled, the way he was broken in multiple parts of 'himself', that year long absence...

... Their wedding, rekindling lost friendships and relationships, and the final graft.

He remembered seeing her in tears as they said their last goodbyes. He remembered himself saying they'd meet again, that even if the him she remembered for so long never returns, their memory will live on.

And in his journey in their 'meeting', he slowly recalled everything. That part of him returned bit by bit, so much so that he went back to Sumeru.

Alas, it was too late.

"... I'm sorry, Wanderer," Nahida answered, the two beings standing over the graves of his late spouses, Kaeya Alberich, Xianyun, and Esther Arkados.

Even adepti were killed. After all, they can't live as long as an actual God, he thought bitterly. Just like humans.

"It's too late. She has said she wanted to stay after you've left, and lived her last years with the two. It's been decades since you came back."

Decades.

He came back on her day of birth... After decades of absence.

He could feel his 'heart', the one laid on her ring finger, beat.

He knows its gone. That ring will only be removed when the corpse has disintegrated, and he knew it was under the ground they were buried on. He had no hope of retrieving it, and yet...

"... I see."

Nahida looked over at the Wanderer, watching the puppet lower his kasa hat and chuckle sadly. She feared that he may see their death as a betrayal like others, but what he did shocked her.

Grabbing the vision that was granted to him, he lifted his hat to grab the dolls he handsewn all those years ago. Carrying them, he went to the middle of their graves and sat down.

"... Can I ask you something, Lesser Lord Kusanali?"

Nahida blinked, her heart dropping in her chest. It was a sinking feeling, like she just knew what was bound to happen. Still, she had to bite the bullet.

"What is it, Wanderer?"

"... Is it possible for someone like me to reunite with my deceased lovers?"

...

The archon looked down, a frown on her face.

"... Perhaps. But is this what you want?"

She looked over at the puppet, watching him nod and smile. It was bitter, so, so bitter. It made her want to tell him not to take this road.

She knew who else would be weeping for his loss.

"Please, end my suffering, Lesser Lord Kusanali."

She knew what would happen if she did that.

"I want to be with my lovers in death for once and for all."

Those puppets he made were all together with his own, and yet she found only grief in its creation. After all, it was the only thing reminding him of what he lost in his journey.

He's no mortal, but the others were. Xianyun isn't, too, but she had died in different circumstances.

"... Are you sure?" she asked, reaching over to his chest. "I will take it away. Are you truly sure, Wanderer?"

He laughs, though the look on his face suggested that he was serious.

"I just want my wandering to end. Is it selfish to ask for such a little thing?" he asked her, closing his eyes while he placed both hands on their graves. "If my lovers die, I'll follow them. It's the least I can do."

It was my gift for her.

...

Nahida took a deep breath and bowed her head.

Then, as swiftly as she could, she yanked the 'gnosis' she made of the puppet. She could see the body of Wanderer flinch and lurch, but it became still, with the tender smile remaining as he stopped breathing.

Holding up the 'gnosis' she made, she watched the vision lose it's power. She didn't knew why, but seeing it reminded her of something so bitter.

Something she experienced before.

"... You two are intertwined by the stars, just like what he said," Nahida muttered, tucking the items away to be kept in Irminsul.

Raising her head, the clouds began to darken. Rainfall was coming, but she knew it was the least of her concerns.

At least now, the four are reunited together. That's what he wanted, after all.

ALBEDO • yellow • SOS

albedo makes empty promises. reader suffers from a terminal illness.

i ain't gonna run away / always gonna find a way / i got me, myself and i / but i got a little more, got a little more / when i got you

everyone in mondstadt hails albedo as a genius. although not because of his expertise, but because of his empty promises. he lies to others and to avoid disappointment. he remembers promising to the impossible, such as curing your terminal illness. for sure that creating one is unlikely due to the stage you’re in right now.

he tells himself that he’s invincible, hoping that one day a miracle would solve all of his problems. yet whenever he sees you in a bedridden state, the sight haunts him with the reminder that he’s not the genius scientist that everyone reveres. his guilt of lying to you is eating him alive, but he doesn’t want to crush your dreams of being able to move again.

if only you know what’s going on behind the scenes. as your profession of love replays in his mind, he breaks and shatters like the test tubes all over his workspace except one – the yellow liquid that mocks him of his cowardice. the geo vision clipped on his chest does the same thing – the doubt from geo archon as a wielder of his element.

you see him as a hero just like his little sister. he prefers your false hope to stay that way. he’s the chief alchemist, the genius scientist who never strays away from difficult situations and who always finds ways to solve them. yours, however, is one he can’t simply work with.

his knowledge can’t spare him from being helpless against the clock.

[ YELLOW (-): cowardice, deception, egotism, caution ]

DILUC • white • checklist

diluc is deeply in love with reader that he needs help proposing to them. kaeya helps out, for better or for worse.

checklist, 1, 2, 3 / you can tell me what you need / baby check this A, B, C / you make it look so easy

diluc doesn’t want to admit that he’s whipped for his significant other, because he doesn’t want to admit that a certain blue-haired menace has been right all along.

no one in mondstadt has foreseen the nobleman dedicating his life to a special someone. upholding his reputation as the wealthiest man in the city is his main priority. with you in the picture, he doesn’t seem to care too much about it anymore. dear archons, he’s never been deeply in love before.

he believes you’re the one, yet doesn’t know how to convey the message. of course he won’t know, so he has a third party to explain why he feels so fuzzy inside whenever you’re present physically or in his imagination. he didn’t think said third party named kaeya will be helpful due to their animosity between them, but he’s his best chance of navigating through the romantic department. diluc prays to lord barbatos that you will love his gifts, especially a white velvet box inside his pocket.

and you do. he watches your spectrum of reactions burst into life as you begin to unwrap his welcome back gifts. you’re fully invested in what he has to notice him kneeling on one knee and presenting a particular box containing what determines the future of your relationship. the nerves are becoming so overwhelming that he forgot everything on the script kaeya wrote just in case.

will you do the honors by checking off that box for me?

[ WHITE (+): goodness, hope, clarity, openness ]

GANYU • gray • where am i at

character death. smoking using pipes.

where am i at these days / now that you're gone?

nothing good comes out in the rain. unable to fall asleep, ganyu trudges away from the campsite to grab some fresh air, despite her hatred of the present weather. although her vision is blurry from the drowsiness, she can detect traces of smoke expelled from her partner. to pass the time, she decides to keep them company.

smoking is one of the bad habits that the qilin helped you successfully break, but the archon war caused your reversion to it as a stress reliever. it’s the least of her worries. no ounce of anger is on her face, but dread that concerns the divine.

centuries later, ganyu walks down the streets of liyue with an umbrella over her head to shield herself from the downpour. unlike the rest of the adepti who chose to isolate themselves to protect the heart of their lord, she chooses to guide humanity as a secretary. living among the common folk makes her feel lonely, but the gray atmosphere makes her feel even lonelier.

she stops at a grave in mount tianehng, paying her respects by exhaling gray smoke drawn from her pipe. with a gentle touch on the stone, she discards her pipe to the side before returning to work. 

nothing good comes out of the rain, for it’s a remembrance of a broken promise.

[ GRAY (-): pessimistic, sad, indecisive, unemotional ]

JEAN • teal • there is a god

somewhat suggestive (reader slips their fingers under jean’s top).

the way that you love me, way that you are / makes me believe that there's a god

you don’t believe in the archons. sure, they exist and are rumored to live alongside mortals. libraries contain a wealth of information about their efforts of establishing teyvat, which one can’t simply ignore. quite the magnificent read, but not worth to be taken seriously.

you don’t judge people who are devoted followers of the seven, however the amount of faith that everyone in mondatadt has in barbatos is very questionable. given that he is the god of freedom, he has little control over his nation yet they still worship him – one of which is jean, your significant other.

speaking of jean, she’s in her office meditating – sword upright and a teal aura emitting from her vision. she feels a warm sensation envelop her from behind, wrapping their arms around her waist and nuzzling against the column of her neck. their fingers mindlessly skim over her stomach, causing her to hum sweetly.

you confess how much you think about her, your inspiration. she laughs at how you casually visit her office only to compliment her, then kisses you sweetly. the teal light in her vision glows brighter than ever, which indicates her promise to continue protecting mondstadt and those she loves in the name of her archon.

you don’t believe in the archons, but you believe in the person who does.

 [ TEAL (+): concentrate, growth, peace, empathy ]

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA • brown • circles

alcohol consumption. risky behaviors.

we keep running in circles / i hate that i hurt you / we still have a heartbeat / don’t give up on me

you’re at his doorstep, barefoot and wearing loose pajamas. a brown bottle is firmly grasped in your hand, its content rendering you lost within the toxins flowing through your veins.

this is stupid. someone like yourself shouldn’t be drowning out sorrows with fancy glass bottles you stole from the fridge due to selfish reasons, nor should you sneak out of you window very late at night. you should be aware that you aren’t in the right state of mind to confront them. you shouldn’t be here, as your presence itself breaks every rule in existence.

this stupid, the same phrase plays inside your head like a broken record. why the hell are you out here anyway barely conscious, waiting for the person who basically shunned you without an explanation? leave while you have the chance, without having second thoughts and regrets.

the day kazuha told you he doesn’t want to see you anymore, you didn’t go after him. you didn’t wait at his doorstep. you didn’t see him broken as you were. you never touched his warmth or listened to the steadiness of his heartbeat. you never told him to stay. you never heard promises of coming back to you. 

you regret not choosing to walk on this path instead.

[ BROWN (-): boring, dull, timid, predictable ]

KAEYA • purple • colour vision

kaeya and reader are married. implied sex. nudity.

wake up in a dream, seeing things that i’ve never seen / every color so heavenly and i could not look away

every morning, kaeya wakes up to black and white. there are more better things he wishes he would’ve done, such as accompanying the traveler and paimon on their journey. besides carrying out his responsibilities as the cavalry captain and drinking at angel’s share to bother diluc, there is nothing worth the excitement to look forward to. black and white. same old everything.

until one night, he wakes up to purple. he wonders how an interaction with a suspect from an investigation escalated into what might be the best moment of his life. he isn’t the type to settle down. his flirtatious nature nature gives him leverage to merely obtain information, not to spark interest. yet here he is, half-asleep and half-naked with his arm around the body next to him.

news about the smooth talker of mondstadt tying the knot spread like wildfire – the hottest topic of the year. admiring your hand splayed on his chest that is adorned with a purple ring. relaxed and free, he feels like at the top of the world. he’s so glad to marry you, and you reciprocate.

there is someone worth the excitement to look forward to.

[ PURPLE (+): compassion, fantasy, wisdom, creativity ]

LISA • green • acid dreams

inspired by midsummer island adventure: act iii.

you’re beautiful / something like these acid dreams, acid dreams / it’s something i ain't used to girl / i’m gon' give you everything, everything

it’s unusual for both the acting grandmaster and the calvary captain to be absent from the guild. and it’s very unusual for lisa to be in charge for the meantime. funnily enough, your partner yawns in agreement as she flips to the next page of the book she’s currently engrossed in.

not only are those two gone, klee and albedo are nowhere to be found. you assume that they chose to take their leave for some sibling bonding time. that gives you a brilliant idea – you and lisa deserve to relax during this sweet summer season as well.

lisa sighs, knowing that you made a very good point. being romantically involved with a member of the knights is quite the challenge, finding it difficult to schedule dates. she envies how much free time you have, but it can’t be helped. 

now here comes a more brilliant idea – watching a live performance of a fontainian band at the good hunter during its happy hour with huffman taking over as the acting-times-four-grandmaster. she still has the green dress you bought her a while back, and you grab her hand to drag out of the building without hesitation.

poor huffman will be paid in leftovers as compensation for his initiative.

[ GREEN (+): generosity, hope, prosperity, luck ]

MONA • black • missed calls

mona and reader fell out of love since graduating from college. terrible communication.

i used to have so many missed calls / now i just sit around and miss your calls / i had the chance when i was with ya / now i’m hoping that you'll pick up, yeah

compatibility. timing. current circumstances. goals. uncontrollable occurrences. wanting different things. these factors are obstacles on your path that challenge your perception of an ideal relationship.

sometimes they can be overcome, and sometimes there’s the chance for it to crash and burn because of a single factor that could be the breaking point. realistically, life isn’t a utopia. the world can barely align the fates of two people to be together forever.

following graduation from university, mona has changed for the worst. communication becomes less of a commitment, eventually calling quits. It’s mentally and physically exhausting to maintain a relationship, as if you’re the only one who is making the effort to keep it alive.

you finally gather the courage to contact her for the first time in years, although the probability of her picking up is zero to none. she doesn’t, and the first thing you hear from the other side is an automated voice message system. your head hurts. your heart hurts. everything hurts. no calls can fix this mess. 

you cry for the future that is now black, hours away and never coming back.

[ BLACK (-): depression, sadness, pessimism, dominance ]

TARTAGLIA • red • love me less

betrayal from childe. blood. character death.

would you love me less? / if you knew the places that i’ve been? / if you knew the damage that i did? / would you love me less?

the fatui are ruthless with negotiations. one oversight and you’re gone, wiped out from the face of the earth. not even your family who is in debt was spared from their wrath. from that moment on, revenge against the organization and your god are the only things inside your mind. that is, until a red-haired snezhnayan entered the scene.

you should’ve known better. the man in front of you is never your lover to begin with, but your biggest enemy who murdered your own blood. regardless of what they mean, you believe the possibility of him being a member of the fatui is too good to be true. the rules of romance states that you must love the person inside, not the person you see. but those rules are meant to be broken, and they should have been long ago.

tartaglia, or childe which is the name he introduces himself with, is a person of many secrets. he conceals his position from his little brother for the sake of his future, and from you to prevent a heartbreak. the fact that you discovered it yourself speaks volumes. maybe you would have hated him less, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

but could you hate him less when you find out childe loves the color red, a representation of his bloodthirsty nature? could you be fine when red drips stains the floor and your stomach, where his weapon temporarily resides? somehow, there’s a sliver of hope that he doesn’t see you as his enemy. or perhaps he still loves you; not that you would ever know.

he usually doesn’t feel remorse, but he makes the exception when the red light in your vision fades.

[ RED (-): anger, danger, revenge, aggression ]

VENTI • pink • working for the weekend

reader works two jobs, resulting in insomnia and passing out at the dorms.

i’ve been working for the weekend / but that weekend never came / will you pat my back tomorrow / if i break my back today?

at the sight of signature braided tails, you think your day can’t get any worse. you glare at him, wiping the counter for venti to get the message that you want him to leave. however, he plops into a seat, shifting his attention to the drink a patron is downing on his right – the strongest alcoholic drink your bar has.

as soon as you disappear to the other side to fetch ingredients, the patron beside venti beckons the boy to come closer. he doesn’t think twice, not minding social interactions with strangers. after all, interesting people tell interesting stories. when the man asks him if he’s friends with you, the bartender, he isn’t too sure how to answer the question. he isn’t exactly friends with you, and you aren’t exactly friends with him; just two people who happen to know each other through unfortunate circumstances – your words, not his.

there’s a story about a workaholic at his college circulating in the dorms – working two jobs at the same time on top of being a full-time student to prove to their parents that they can support themselves. every so often they can be found passed out before reaching the reception desk, and venti should know because he happens to be there one of those times.

you’re beyond exhausted, and that is one weakness you refuse to display while catering to customers. now knowing that you’ve been in that state for quite some time, the boy feels the need to help you out. seeing that you’re almost approaching his spot, the boy quickly scribbles his message on a sticky note and jerks numerous dollar bills out of his wallet. it reads out that he stole your glass and invites you to his dorm to get it back. under the note is his number and wishing you a good weekend – if you call it a weekend, that is. 

the man urges you to go after him, so you do and appreciate his advice.

[ PINK (+): kindness, warmth, romance, intuition ]

XIAO • blue • blueberry eyes

xiao is implied living in unstable living conditions. self-deprecation from xiao.

kiss you each morning / with strawberry skies / ‘cause i get so lost in / your blueberry eyes

soulmate. a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner. a person with whom one has feelings of deep or natural affinity. a person who xiao believes he doesn’t deserve. in a universe where soulmates exist, how they are connected with each other is through dreams. first encounters usually occur at around sixteen years of age, which becomes subsequent until two merge into one. not all of them are successful, and that is what he fears the most.

so he stops dreaming. he was sixteen when he first encountered his soulmate. back then he was constantly on the run from the demons in his own home, hopping from place to place until he sought refuge within a kind old woman. due to the conditions he was suffering under, he can’t bear to face his destiny. no matter how many times he’s advised to do so, no words of wisdom can repair anything that’s beyond broken.

years later, he winds up in a domain full of clear blue skies where his first encounter with you took place. usually when a soulmate connection fails to follow through the sequence of dreams, the people involved can’t do much about it other than remove each other from their respective histories and be on their merry way. considering the amount of time passed since his last visit to this realm, you should have forgotten about him by now. yet somehow, this dream still managed to exist.

hearing the sound of relief in your voice, he would never imagine being basked in your presence after abandoning you for so long. stopping dead in your tracks, your eyes widen at his state of conflict before you. one side of him wants you to stay out of his life for your sake, yet the other wants you to come closer and comfort him. your hunch tells you that he went through so much for the past few years, which causes him to inherit this type of mindset. instead of following his command, you listen to the latter side of him by giving him the tightest hug you could ever give to someone.

he’s no longer afraid of his destiny, finally accepting you as his reality.

[ BLUE (+): confidence, peace, honesty, reliability ]

ZHONGLI • orange • new life

self-deprecation from reader.

i ain't lookin' back, this a celebration / lookin’  forward to my new situation / standin’ in the mirror, had a conversation / i’m takin' my own advice

the receptionist comments that you’re out of place. truth be told, no one invited you aboard the prestigious pearl gallery. in fact, you stole a boat to travel all the way there without a second thought. it’s your first time hearing about the place, so you’re not aware of the rules. one thing you heard from some shady locals is something that could be beneficial for you at least in the short-run, and you’re about to find that for yourself.

your body becomes stiff by the richness and sophistication of a male voice coming from behind you. a refined man shows up beside you, acknowledging your presence with his intense amber gaze. from the looks of it, he seems to be highly revered in this society. the lady named luoxia refers to him as zhongli, who just covered your back by treating you as his honored guest. she bows to the both of you before taking her leave.

you thank the empty space where the receptionist formerly occupied, obviously confused. she retreats to the cabin merely seconds ago, but your mind has been busy processing the fact that a man like him saved your butt from getting kicked out. he considers you a friend which is quite the surprise, given that he just met you seconds ago. you shrug it off, noticing how genuine he seems in meeting your acquaintance.

the sun casts an orange glow upon the world, prompting him to turn his head to admire it. streaks of the particular color with hints of red and blue decorate the sunset sky. gazing at this beautiful view in front of you makes the weight in your chest light as a feather. what motivated you to travel is everything teyvat has in store such as this sight, but your inner turmoil fails to make you appreciate it more.

luckily, he already has an answer in mind – one that is enough to convince you to build your new life here.

[ ORANGE (+): spontaneity, creativity, warmth, positivity ]

Avoiding the blade sent by the queen, Furina, the ferrylady kept sprinting from the beheaded ruler in all of her glory. 2 ciphers had been decoded, but they needed to do 3 more, and they lost a member in the cruel game of 'hide and seek'.

It was a shame, really. They were sure that Emilie, the perfumer, would've been able to avoid her should they have relied less on her perfumes and more of her surroundings.

"I thought that an embalmer like you wouldn't have given her the chance of rebirth," the queen seem to call out, their chase continuing as she tried to hinder her with the mirror and fail. "What made you change, hm? Did something happened?"

"Like Hell will I tell you," the embalmer retorted, vaulting a window and slipping inside the next room over the hall. "After all, you'd use what I say against me and everyone else."

The hunter laughed as she narrowly avoided a big glass shard after her, lowering her body before she scrambled up and away. She could vaguely hear the sound of fabric hitting wood as she left the church, her shoes slamming on the ground as her heart raced a million miles an hour.

There was something to be said about getting chased by something that can, in simpler terms, drive one mad. And surely, she would've learned how bad it is to catch a hunter's attention by now... But she didn't.

If anything, it was almost like she was compelled to do it again. Maybe it was something that she couldn't deny, as she has yet to learn her lesson on how to deal with the residents.

Or to even pay attention to where she's heading.

In the midst of it all, she found herself panting, heaving as she tried to get the lady in red away from her. But when she felt that hope was too far from her reach, she felt a hand yank her wrist and pull her over.

She was about to flinch and pull them away, but she fell short when she saw who it was that was trying to save her.

Placing a finger on their lips, they kept crouching behind the abandoned furniture as they heard the soft humming of the hunter. Their heartbeats were beating rapidly, but it didn't took long until the hunter has left the vicinity. At least, for now.

"... There," the novelist whispered, letting go of the embalmer with a sigh. "We should be safe from Madame Red. She's not the brightest like the Photographer, but we should stay cautious. Who knows when she's coming back?"

... Ah. I forgot, she thought somberly. When it comes to matches, they're not the type to joke around... How careless of me.

"... Of course. Although, with the pace we're going I think she will find a difficult time finding a new survivor to go after," the woman explained, standing up to pull the latter as well, facing the once wiggling cipher. "After all, that man is not one to kid around in a match."

Ah, the 'Prisoner'. I have never known what his story is, but to think that someone would have the utter audacity to demote a Warden from his position...

"Mm, but that's besides the point," the novelist muttered, seeing the injuries she retained. "And especially when you were kiting Madame Red, too. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," she replied, albeit her tone did sound a bit cold. "I hadn't been hit hard enough to be impaled, thankfully. She's not good with a mirror shard than a sword."

At the corner of her eye, the novelist's mouth seem to open... But it closed, though she did catch the sight of a small frown.

Ah.

"You worry too much, Navina," the embalmer added, reaching over to pat their head. Still, she saw that the frown remained.

It seems she's done it now... How unfortunate.

"I know, I'm just... I suppose being concerned over someone is a little unnecessary," they added, grabbing her hand to pull it away. They turned their head to the cipher, beginning to work on it once more.

"Anyway, let's focus on the match first. I don't want to delay any second we have over something you don't want me worried about."

Charon's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Walking over to their side, she began to turn the cogs, making sure that the machine worked as it should be.

...

The silence is oddly deafening. It was almost hard to ascertain how they're feeling, especially when she's aware that her words led them to be so quiet. Even if they are friends, there were bound for disagreements to arise between each other.

Such is the way of life, especially in a manor that's hellbent on setting itself up for manslaughter with everyone's grim experiences.

The only sounds that surround them were the laughter echoing from outside, the slams of pallets and groans, and even the eerie clangs of the bell when the hunter regained more of her power.

Charon and the others were familiar to the sound. It was haunting as it was enchanting, and even she couldn't deny, she gets scared the more she hears it.

Maybe it reminded her of those church bells that were too big for one to deal with and use, or even those in Eversleeping Town, wherein the 'ringing' you'd hear was the tram's arrival. Whether it's goal was to simply cause a freak accident or for a hunter to be sent off flying for being too careless, she didn't knew.

In those moments of her lack of self-awareness, she could vaguely hear someone calling out to her. It sounded familiar, and yet she continued to ignore it, like she wasn't planning to see who could be bothering her.

"...ey..."

Just what goes on in the manor's walls, anyway? Was there something that no one understood?

"... H..."

Were the others here for a different reason, perhaps? Was she here for someone else to use her like a puppet?

"...ro...!"

Just... what's going on? And who even is she? What even are they?

"Look out!"

The piercing sound of shattered glass caught her attention, and the feeling of time slowed down as she watched the scene unfold in her very eyes.

Death was not uncommon in the world they live in. In a way, death felt akin to the sweet release that they can get from each of their matches. But to the embalmer, it felt like a harsh slap to the face.

Blood seem to pour out right in front of her as the novelist took the hit. The mirror shard had went through to their body, but from the look in their eye, they seemed far too relieved to care of their current predicament than anything else.

"Oh, good... You're finally aware," she heard them say, but it was short lived when the object was yanked from their chest, letting them stumble and fall on top of the embalmer.

No.

Catching them, blood began to pour on her attire out of panic. She could see the queen wipe off her bloodied shard, which didn't give her enough time to process everything.

Hoisting the severely injured novelist, the survivor dashed off, hearing the laughter from the hunter as their hearts began to beat as wildly as it can. Although theirs stuttered as they lost blood at each step, this only pushed her to go faster.

She needed to go someplace safe, someplace where she can safely embalm them, even if the process is as painful as it gets.

"Breathe for me, okay?" the embalmer told them, hoisting them up so their head would rest on her shoulder. "Come on, I need you to breathe. You'll be okay. I won't let you die."

"You won't...?"

"Not if I have a say in it," she hissed, vaulting another window and pallet. The sight of the walls around them seem to deteriorate the longer she carried the injured survivor, causing her to grimace.

She never liked the memories associated with White Sand Street Asylum. They're as unpleasant as they come, and the two were able to attest to it.

After all, the first few times they came to the asylum, it was due to a somewhat foolish quest.

Klee, the youngest survivor, had asked her and a few others if they could explore back then. She has heard of multiple rumors of the asylum being filled with ghosts, and unfortunately for the child, she hasn't been told of the horror stories with them.

And just like any other child who's yet to experience the scare of a lifetime, she asked her, Albedo, and Navina to investigate with her and see if the ghosts were really lurking from down below.

Safe to say, though, the embalmer knew too well of the outcome and made sure that she didn't get to see the things that they had to.

She couldn't forget how it felt to step foot in the halls of the abandoned asylum the first time. She couldn't forget how it felt as though time ceased to move when she caught sight of the bodies laid in some of the rooms, some of them covered with a stained gray cloth, but the stench being putrid like no other.

Klee wanted to see what it was at first, but catching whiff of it had made her stop asking. Even Albedo made sure that the other two can walk through it, his hold on the younger child firm.

It was only when they reached room 13 that she saw an unsightly view of one of the newest patients in the vicinity.

It was too difficult for Charon to explain what she found, but every time she found herself recalling, it was almost like she wanted to hurl. And as bad as it sounds, she knew that it was the safest place they can go.

No man or monster would come a step near that room, and that was their only option for a refuge.

Skidding down the halls, she slipped for a moment before running to her right, making a slight turn to dash towards room 13. The door was open, so it didn't took long for her to slam it open with her right side, barreling in.

Side stepping, Charon pushed herself back and closed her eyes, pushing all of her bodyweight and theirs to close the door shut.

Ca-chunk!

...

The strench was stronger than last time, she notes. But it was the price she had to pay, as its for the sake of their safety.

And it would seem that it paid off, considering their heart beat stopped thundering when the hunter got near. She did screamed in disgust at the smell permeating from the room they're in, making her chuckle.

Ah... It was worth the effort.

Looking down at Navina's body, she laid them down. She needed to ignore the monstrosity of the patient's body that used to reside in the room, since the novelist had passed out.

Turning to the door, the embalmer opened it up enough to let light pass, this time turning to see the damage on the other survivor's body to see what happened.

... Sheesh.

Pulling the handle of the case off of her arm, she opened it and grabbed the items she needed.

No time.

She raised the syringe she retrieved, and the scalpel she had always thought of carrying for an emergency extraction.

It's time to operate on a patient.