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lovesickeros · 8 months

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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #focalors #furina #dont ask what happened here idk #this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up #got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story #focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her #what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell #neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all #ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions #using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS #constant anxiety and panic 24/7 #will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry #compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more #i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY #i want 2 put them under a microscope #watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving #anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days

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soundwavemain · 2 years

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We’ve Still Got Hope

Chapter 1: Waiting

General content warning for descriptions of the dead, people actively dying, and other apocalyptic scenarios.

Casey was used to running all her life. It became a familiar face during an alien apocalypse–turning tail and running like her life depended on it.

Because it did. It does.

Being the only person with, at this point, a decade of formal martial arts training and an extensive understanding of ninjutsu, it surprised no one that Casey turned out to be a natural scout. Her ability to quickly, and more importantly, quietly move through the outside world meant the difference between their survival and termination. She saw the outside more than anyone else on their team. Followed by Leo who refused to be left in the dust even with the responsibility of their world already creasing his brow deep enough to rival Raph’s chasm.

Still, as their resident medic, Leo was more useful in the caves, tending to the injured and ill, than scurrying across the wasteland that they once called home. After liberating a kraang camp, the medical bay–little more than a large cave branching off to the left of the entrance–was at full capacity. It probably wouldn’t empty anytime soon considering Casey’s current mission.

Casey surveyed her surroundings–desolate, bleak nothingness, hollowed-out buildings harboring phantom nightlife–as she darted through the empty city. Her mask’s HUD displayed no live biometrics nearby. She sighed, disengaging her mask despite the multiple Donnie alerts telling her not to. It felt uncomfortable shoving her hair back from its perch atop her head but sometimes Casey found it easier to perform reconnaissance without the distracting pop-ups.

This far from Metro Tower, there weren’t even kraangified humans to worry about striking down. Donnie sent her this way because he got energy readings indicative of a camp jailbreak. He mapped out the general radius of where any survivors would hide. Years of following the genius’ lead meant Casey trusted Donnie’s judgment. Still, that didn’t stop her from grumbling about the lack of activity.

Rotting corpses littered the mapped-out path Casey took. Families, lovers, children–all huddled together in their last moments. It was rare for Casey to find someone completely alone. Usually, one corpse lay not far from another. They died waiting.

Waiting for her to save them. To complete her duties as resident rescuer. To do a damned thing in this apocalypse.

Casey clenched her fists so tight her knuckles went white. She turned from the skyline, trying to shake the vision of all the dead she’s seen over the past eleven years. Raph always reminded her that the lives they did save mattered just as much. And it helped to think of the people she was able to liberate.

But she knew. They all did. No matter how hard they tried, how fast she ran, there was only so much their small team could do to save the vast amount of people under the kraang’s control.

A soft sound brought Casey out of her thoughts. Her mask immediately engaged, snapping onto her face as she braced herself for an attack. She turned this way and that but nothing came at her. Despite the lack of impending doom, Casey remained tense.

Then she heard it again–a whimper. Something so inconsequential that she almost wrote it off as her overactive imagination running on fumes after a three-day scouting mission. But there it was! Quiet sniffles muffled by something. Casey glanced at the alley below and noticed a dumpster turned over on its side. Down the fire escape, she went until her feet touched the ground.

She approached the dumpster, cautious in case it happened to be a kraangified child. Years of rescues taught her that they seemed to just wallow and cry until they perished, consumed by the alien flesh. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She hated seeing that more than anything. Something about kids being transformed into something they couldn’t even sustain felt like being stabbed in the heart.

Her brownie troop, all calling out for her. Where was she? They needed her.

The lid opened easily enough. No new grime encrusted its sides since people didn’t use outdoor trash bins anymore. Too exposed. Too risky. Plus, the smell of garbage usually caught the kraangified’s attention, bringing them to its source like bloodhounds.

Once open, though, the dumpster released the pungent odor of a rotting corpse. Casey thanked her paranoia for once since her mask, when engaged, minimized most scents due to its filtration system. She peered inside and saw a dead woman staring back at her, gaze unwavering. The woman seemed calm, almost like she made peace with her untimely demise. Her cheeks were gaunt, any visible skin stretched taut over her bones. Her eyes, sunken in their sockets, bore holes into Casey. She broke contact first and looked down at the woman’s midsection.

There in her hands, impossibly small and sickly pale, laid a baby, its hair ruffled up from resting against its mother’s chest. It didn’t seem to have much baby fat which was unsurprising. What with the state of the world and all. But its eyes, too big for an older kid, pointed to the fact that it couldn't be older than two years. That’s when Casey realized the other scent hanging in the air–shit.

Oh. Donnie owed her big time for this.

Casey had about as much knowledge about children as Dr. Delicate Touch knew about feelings. Which meant absolute jack shit. But, one thing she could surmise from what she knew about apocalyptic landscapes was that they would have company soon. There was no question that she could make it out of there before enemies arrived but what of the kid?

She glanced at the baby whose tiny fist clenched its mother’s shirt like a lifeline. Reaching out for it, the baby turned away. It made another noise, louder this time. First smell, now sound–the kid couldn’t help its case. Casey grabbed the baby from the woman’s hands, prying its fist open. It had a tough grip for a baby. It whined at her, kicking its tiny legs and smacking down its little fists onto her arm as she set it on the ground.

Casey looked around for something to clean the kid. Its mother’s clothes were out of the question. She could practically hear Leo shouting at her about the high bacteria content in unwashed clothes and the rate of infection. That also ruled out the cloth scraps covering the kid. That only left…

Oh, ho ho. Donnie owed her so much.

Trying not to think about it too hard–because if she did, she’d start cussing and more noise was the last thing they needed–Casey removed her sash. It wasn’t ideal. Hell, none of this was ideal. Children were hard to keep around in the apocalypse. Small and defenseless and weak–

Casey found her brownie troop, well-versed in combat enough to take on O’Neil, strewn about Fifth Avenue. Their weapons still clutched in white-knuckled grasps, eyes wide open. Watching.

She discarded the soiled sash and picked up the kid who still fought against her. Her HUD alerted her of enemies slowly making their way toward her location. More pop-ups appeared as she docked her weapon. Donnie’s voice kept saying it was a bad idea to put away her weapon when in pursuit. She dismissed his A.I. The kid kept hitting her chest but she just pressed it closer to her side, holding its bottom so it wouldn’t slip off, and ran.

...

Raph always waited for Casey whenever she went on missions. Call it devotion, call it stupidity, but he felt unsteady without her beside him. In recent years, she was the only one who got to see him laidback, at ease–or, as much calm as they were allowed in post-invasion New York City. Around his brothers and the other members of the resistance, Raph tried to keep up appearances. He knew they needed someone dependable to lead them. To keep them hidden, safe, alive.

So he was sterner than he was in his youth, quieter. Leo once joked that he seemed more like Dad than the rest of them. Raph didn’t know how to feel about it. They lost their father during the invasion and the mere mention of him, even years later, still reopened the wound he desperately kept bandaged up, away from view. Leo hadn’t mentioned the resemblance since then.

Before New York City fell, whenever Raph felt stir-crazy, he would run around until he was so out of breath he had to stop. But now he couldn’t go outside. For their safety, regular outside access was prohibited to anyone who wasn’t fast enough to outrun enemies. That left Casey and Leo free from the ban and Raph stuck inside unless a mission called for his muscle.

It wasn’t like he had anything else to do either. Helping out the injured was the most time-consuming option but his hands were too large to wield precision equipment necessary for surgery which meant he couldn’t help Leo in the medbay. Donnie assisted Leo during medical rushes anyway so Raph stuck to tending superficial wounds.

All that work ended the day before and left Raph bored. No one told him that aside from being absolutely devastating, the apocalypse would be boring. There was only so much to do inside a shallow cave system. After about ten laps around each room, someone usually told him he’d dig a path straight through the rocky floor.

He was considering asking Leo to show him a magic trick when he heard the familiar sounds of Casey cursing. A big smile wormed its way onto his face until he remembered his best friend only cursed upon returning home because they were in trouble. Raph readied his sai. He crept toward the entrance and leaped out, ready to cause hell.

Casey stared at him like he suddenly grew two heads, her arms stretched away from her body. They kept a kicking toddler from hitting her. She scowled at the poor baby, hissing out something that sounded like a curse.

“Case!” Raph exclaimed, cutting her off.

She gave him a look. One that read, “You have no idea what hell I just went through.”

Leo chose that moment to show up from the medbay, hands dripping in water. “Ugh, guys. Who moved the towels?” He looked at Casey and Raph, then the kid. “Huh.” He tilted his head. “What. Is that a baby?”

“No, Blue. It’s a fucking blimp–of course, it’s a baby!” Casey shouted.

The baby stopped moving at Casey’s tone. Their face scrunched up, turning red as fat tears rolled down their cheeks. Casey brought them to her hip so she could cover her ears as the baby started wailing.

“Make it stop!”

Raph rushed to her side, taking the baby away. “They’re not an ‘it’, Case.” He rocked the baby back and forth in his arms, pressing them against his plastron.

A combination of the gentle motion and Raph’s soft cooing forced the baby’s cries to trail off. They looked up at him, big eyes staring at him. They seemed so… small. Especially in Raph’s embrace. He brought a big hand to their face and wiped away their tears. Their fingers grasping his surprised him. They had a strong grip for a baby.

Leo joined him in looking at the baby. “Where’d you find the squirt?”

“Only thing alive I found on my mission,” Casey huffed. Her arms crossed over her chest. It drew Raph’s attention to her midsection where her sash was notably missing. “It was hiding in a dumpster with its mother. Probably waiting for help.”

“Waiting for her,” was left unsaid but Raph knew what she meant. He understood her better than anyone. Her insecurities, her faults.

Casey cried herself to sleep in his arms, begging for her troop to be spared.

Raph walked over to her and gave her the baby. He fixed her arms so she held them securely, cradling their head. With the gentle touches and possibly because they were tuckered from everything that happened, the baby began nodding off. They blinked slowly, head dipping forward so their face pressed against Casey’s collarbone. Raph nudged them so they were more comfortably arranged and smiled.

“You saved them, though. That’s good enough in my book,” he said.

You’re good. You did good.

Leo looked between them. His gaze left a prickly feeling on Raph’s skin but he ignored it. Casey didn’t bother looking up. Her gaze was fixed on the baby in her arms. Proof of what she accomplished. All the answer in this blight of a world that she did something worthwhile.

“Serviceable,” she said, sniffing.

It read, “You can’t touch me.” Unmistakably Casey Jones’ tone of complete indifference. Raph knew better. She was his best friend, after all.

I love you. I love you.

Next Chapter

Art by @fanficmaniatic

#quinn i swear you dont have to reblog this one i just wanna get this in the show's tag #anyways hi rottmnt fandom are you sick of me yet? well you will be :]#yes im still promoting my in progress multi-chapter fic if i stop i'll scream #its the doomed team's trauma and love for junior explained fic that no one asked for!!!#i originally set out for this to be junior centric but now it feels like a spotlight for the team's trauma caused by the invasion #but hey if you like this (and my other writings) please consider reblogging this post and leaving a comment on my fic i truly appreciate it #rottmnt #tmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt fic #tmnt fic #rise casey jones #rise casey jones jr #rise raph #rise leo #junior and his totally normal parents #my writing #anyone new to my blog hii im soundwavemain and i call rottmnt movie casey junior because the ORIGINAL rottmmt casey is cassandra jones #rise cassandra jones #sorry Karday i gotta tag you bestie #tcest dni #<- i will fucking block you get away from me

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