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#neuvillette: he's gone.
sxturdaysun · 8 months
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// 4.1 spoilers
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that was me. i did that. i broke him out. but also [grabs him by the shoulders] WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU
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cometrose · 3 months
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zhongli is so fucking funny when hes avoiding people like venti last year and neuvillette this year he can’t catch a break he moves like they’re his ex husbands 😭
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hypostatic-oath · 7 months
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So I found a draft of mine from when Fontaine was first released and Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault) is stuck in my mind permanently. While I figure out a decent ending, here's a little bit from the beginning...
...
Childe had never once in his life assumed jail would be fun. He had no delusions in that regard. But he had to admit, his hopes were raised once he heard of the Pankration Ring in the Fortress of Meropide. A competition ring for those who had "extra energy" they wished to "burn out" through regular sparring matches? Sign him up!
His hopes were very quickly shattered once he was told that no, a Fatui Harbinger was not allowed to compete, because "no way anyone would sign up to fight him" and "even if he did fight with one hand behind his back, that would set the bar too high for the other matches, and the spectators would be bored." Damn it - so the ring wasn't truly for fight afficionados - it was a marketing ploy! The fight itself wasn't the focus, it was the fact that it had to look good for an audience...
Childe huffed as he sat in the bed he'd taken to occupying. Fontaine was getting on his nerves - it seemed as though everything was for show, and very little was actually real. Where were the Traveler or the Overseer when one needed them?! Oh, what he wouldn't do to fight against a decent opponent...
His boredom was made worse by the fact that the Overseer - damn them and their excuse of "immersion" - had decided to bench him until he was out of prison. So now he rusted away in the Fortress of Meropide, with no one to fight, no one to banter with...
He could try the Duke again, he figured. While at first things hadn't gone his way, after explaining his issue, Wriothesley had, once or twice, been amenable to a sparring match, and it was the one thing keeping Tartaglia remotely sane. But lately the warden had been more and more busy - and less and less inclined to indulge the restless Harbinger. Were it not for the fact that he already had an escape plan in the works, Childe was sure he would have lost his mind for real. He was getting rusty. Every day that he did not raise his weapon was one day he grew weaker, and that the competition grew stronger. And he knew he had competition, both among the Fatui - how he was the Eleventh of a group of nine still eluded him - and among the other vessels.
It *had* hurt, the knowledge that right after his banner would come that of the Iudex who'd promptly knocked him out and sent him to jail... and that he wasn't even there to fight him about it! He hadn't been aware of the sheer strength of Fontaine's Chief Justice, but now that he'd caught a glimpse, Childe had to admit he was intrigued. And by intrigued let it be absolutely clear that what he meant was "eager to fight him again". Hell, the judge had managed to knock him out while he was using Foul Legacy! What else was this Neuvillette guy capable of? And, more importantly... had you noticed?
It was a thought Ajax didn't like to have. One he'd been trying to drown out - hah! Drown! Now that his hydro Vision was gone, and Neuvillette was out there using hydro as he pleased - since he'd first been told he wouldn't be able to fight down here. And yet, now that the Fortress had quieted down for the night, there was no sound to overpower his own thoughts.
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tea-cat-arts · 1 month
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The traveler will be like "wah, I don't wanna do work! I don't wanna keep helping all these random people and getting into trouble! I've done enough" and then dig their heels in and refuse to even explore the easiest option
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toasteaa · 4 days
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😅 and 🫂 PLEASE !
Pining stage asks💙
😅 did anyone ever mistake you two for a couple? how did you both react?
Who HASN'T mistaken Eclair and Neuvillette for a couple, let's be real. The gestionnaires (most of them), the Melusines; hell, their Archon has mistaken them for being a couple before. But it's subtle. Indirect. A little cloud of gossip about them when they're not around. It's not THE talk of the nation, just a bit of afternoon gossip fodder for the gestionnaires since they're the ones that see Eclair and Neuvillette the most.
But being mistaken for a couple directly? Having someone, perhaps a sweet mannered old woman, call them a lovely couple while on post work evening stroll?
Eclair is shocked, to say the least. Schools her expression in almost immediately and tries to think of a response. Everyone in Fontaine knows Neuvillette. Everyone knows Neuvillette does not get into relationships. He doesn't even say he has friends. But...she's silently flattered that they were mistaken for a couple. It flutters around quietly in her chest and slowly brings some color to her cheeks. A feeling that she's also silently stamping back into place because she is not in a relationship with Neuvillette. Even though the thought is extremely nice.
Even if she tries to deny it, she's not able to get it out once the old woman takes Eclair’s hands in hers; showering her with those same sweet comments little old ladies she's helped before always seem to give her. Only now it's peppered in-between stories of never having seen the Iudex as much as she has these past few years and how much happier and more relaxed he seems now.
"Th-thank you, mémé;" stammering? The detective that can stare a gun down its barrel without flinching is stammering at the thought of being mistaken for Neuvillette's partner? "But the Chief Justice and I simply work together. We aren't a couple."
But it's like she's said nothing at all. The old woman just smiles warmly. Knowingly. You can't lie to grandma, don't you know?
Neuvillette's reaction on the other hand, could be considered a non-reaction to most. But that's because he goes to his mind first. Wonders what they see that could warrant such a reaction. From what he knows, humans only say these kind of things after seeing a romantic interaction between two people. In that case, have his advances been noticeable? Has Eclair accepted them in some way that he's missing? He would like to be sure before making any assumptions, but finding time to ask Eclair in between the times where they're both busy and inundated with work is...difficult.
"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, but any relationship I have with Detective Dumont is professional and entirely work related. She is my coworker, first and foremost, and a...colleague." It's not a lie, but it's not necessarily the entire truth. But...well, if there's anything he's learned, it's that sometimes withholding parts of the truth is necessary. For others and for himself.
🫂 what's one significant moment of physical contact you had during the pining stage?
Oh...there's something to be said about Neuvillette and, well, anything physical. He seems untouchable because he is untouchable. As the Chief Justice, there is an image of unobtainability about him. As a being that has persisted for 500 years, he holds a certain unknowability in his hands. No one can get close to Neuvillette because no one really knows Neuvillette. Whether that's because they haven't really tried to get to know him or because he is the Iudex. And they see him exclusively as the Iudex. Of course, he has put up boundaries between himself and others as well; justifying it as being a necessary and needed barrier in order for him to remain a stalwart servant to the will of his Nation.
That, however, has not made his existence any less...lonely.
Nevertheless, Neuvillette has a station to maintain and cannot allow idle thoughts of melancholy to seep in whilst he's in the middle of his work. A trial will not be held at bay while he wrangles in his rarely expressed emotions, struggles frustratingly to find the correct files that were misplaced days ago, and -
And Eclair is there. Her hand careful and grounding against his. He hadn't heard her come in, far too busy rushing to have his attention split. And the file...it's there, in her other hand. He hadn't misplaced the file; there were extra reports that she was finishing. He knew this. She says as much, but he isn't listening. He only...feels. Feels the reassurance of her tone, the lilt of it bringing a kind of...peace to him. Her hand has moved away from his, but he can still feel the weight of it. The warmth of it. She's still speaking, but her touch has moved - adjusting his robes lightly where they've creased, straightening his jabot and making sure it's pinned neatly, before smoothing down the panels of his mantle against his chest. It's an...odd feeling. An action he's observed being done, but never had it done to himself. Never imagined it would be done to him. No one gets this close to him. He doesn't let anyone get this close to him. And yet...this touch is not unwelcomed. No, it's...it's calming. Soothing. Grounding.
Is this what the touch of another person feels like?
She's looking at him, he realizes, with that critical eye. Searching for something like she always is. He wonders, vaguely, what she sees. Notices the gleam of something...softer in her gaze. He wishes he knew what it was. He wishes he could understand why her hand against his chest has done this to him. Made the flow of Hydro swirl beneath his skin. Made his senses a little sharper. Yet the only thing he can do is thank her for her assistance. Feel something within him stir again at her smile. And want to -
The hour's chime breaks the bubble of reverie; he will be late if he does not leave immediately. The Iudex is never late to a trial. Another brief (yet appreciative) thanks before he's excusing himself and striding out of his office. The station of the Iudex is one that must be meticulously maintained. And yet...
He cannot help but feel the lingering weight of Eclair's touch and distantly wonder if he would ever allow himself to feel it so intimately again.
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narwhalandchill · 6 months
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yknow as much as the (deserved) inazuma backlash has clearly changed hoyos writing for the better i do think there v much is one completely wrong lesson theyve taken from it and thats incorporating story quests into the AQ sequence (and specifically how theyve never attempted it again)
the concept itself was Never inherently bad. in fact it unironically has a ton of potential bc you could lessen the need for sudden character specific exposition in the AQ AND pull off way more high-stakes and timeline-specific plotlines in the SQs by ensuring players will experience it at the intended place and time.
the issue was that they introduced a bleak depressing inazuma in the middle of a fucking civil war and then went omg AQ on pause!!! lets go to a festival with ayaka and u will be her first friend ever OwO yoimiyas is at least vastly better written and actually involves the VH and sakoku decrees so its always been a favorite of mine but even then im sure theres things worth criticism in there its just been 2 years so i cant analyze it off the top of my head. but the greatest offender has always been the way ayakas comes with such a complete tonal dissonance it just takes you out of the atmosphere they spent the entire act I building up.
and it rly makes me sad bc i Know hoyo took the backlash about interrupted pacing and disjointed tone as "ok story quests bad as AQ requirements" when its like. no the one you wrote just sucked
AQ incorporated story quests need to have a damn good reason to be mandatory at that specific point and while its far from perfect i DO think yoimiyas fulfills that! but ayakas doesnt! at all! and like im realizing the issue is also in how genshins made it a standard that a character must receive a story quest Instantly on release. so i guess ayakas had to be in between acts I and II for plot reasons but like. that being the case then the story quest itself shouldve focused on a completely different theme as opposed to her very predictable tropey personal problems that werent even explored properly imo. like im sure plenty of depth and nuance in her characterization was lost in translation but i almost cry laughed the first time the restaurant vendor went "oh ayaka is lonely because she is so perfect that no one sees her as a friend but instead an aspiration" like what in the 3rd grader writing mary sue self insert fic tarnation 💀 you couldve worded that exact same concept in 12 different ways to make it actually sound poignant and you did That SHAHSKSJSKDLJH
(and a quick addition before i get accused of being a blind hater hater lmao. here goes: "the burdens of miss ayakas position as the public face of the kamisato make it difficult for her to shed the mask of practiced perfection. i think people struggle to see her as a person whod enjoy simple things in life like friendship just like everyone else when theyre so used to viewing her as an unreachable figurehead." there. now its way more clearly nuanced. this took me 3 minutes and is far from any fluid writing yet. the difference is staggering)
but like. as a result this ambiguous timeline limbo most story quests end up falling into is genuinely a shame bc i do think theres potential in attempting the ayaka n yoi thing again but with characters for whom it makes sense and actually enhances the AQ experience by necessitating it. and yeah yeah ik genshin wants to be casual friendly so they dont want to force ppl to do quests they dont like for AQ so its unrealistic to expect them to ever try it out again but man
as long as they pick the right place and time and characters for it they could massively alleviate the issue of some story quests contents ending up feeling like somewhat empty fluff bc they cant assume what point a player will be in the main plot could be so they lack actually impactful lore and or character beats.
obviously im not a writer at hoyo and idk how much backlash the ayaya/yoi situation got them but like. idk. taking the lesson "never do anything like inazuma again" isnt rly what id consider the full picture. inazuma does suck and has clunky moments throughout but like in 2.0 people were still hype! inazuma had good ideas and concepts and attempted sth that couldve been great the issue isnt inazuma bad on all levels its that they never delivered its potential and 2.1 was an incredible letdown.
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Neuvillette and I just aren’t meant to be
In the 5 billion wishes I made I managed to get Yanfei three times, Xingqiu 3 times, Barbara 2 times and even Dehya 1 time
I spent so much money and still they forsake me
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inundatae · 4 months
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Googles how to make twt thread aesthetically pleasing on tumblr.
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starsandthorn · 6 months
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read through all of neuvillette's stories on the wiki and. what do you MEAN people were right about him giving furina her vision
#personal stuff#delete later#KIND OF. sort of.#man i love getting vision and celestia lore like AUGH. gnaws on it forever#but yea really interesting to me. neuvillette has the power and authority that the hydro throne had#so he can portion off bits of his power and hand them out in the form of visions like the heavens did#the WORDING is really interesting to me though. like specifically talking about the Heavens and the Seven Archons#like this implies that the Thrones in celestia are responsible for handing out visions instead of the individual gods#which we already knew from ei's voiceline about electro visions not getting handed out. what was up with that btw#CANNOT wait for snezhnaya where we find out what the hell a gnosis actually is and does and why the fatui's collecting them#if they seemingly have no influence on an archon's authority or seat in celestia and only act as a connection to the heavens#like the hydro throne is gone. it's super gone. but the hydro gnosis is still. around. and apparently performing whatever task gnoses do#for arlecchino to still. want it.#also all of the archons being so flippant about their gnoses. do they know they're made from some dead guy's corpse do you think#venti didn't fight back when his was being taken zhongli and nahida traded theirs and ei literally just didn't care#god. REALLY interesting. also the line near the end of his ''vision'' story abt vision holders is so fucking ominous#''and when one so gifted completed their duty...the gift the gods would receive in return would be more abundant still''#HUH. EXCUSE ME.#like. allogenes as investments for elemental power? is that what we're getting at?#still wondering what the hell happened to vennessa. can we get some information on what ascending to celestia means. please
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mondaymelon · 2 months
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₊⊹ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ♡. | genshin!various x gn!reader
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「 "𝐚𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐩…"」
— in which you kiss him ... accidentally, and indirectly.
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𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — kazuha, gaming, FREMINET, THOMA, KAVEH, chongyun, gorou
— "Ah, wrong cup."
It's a warm morning, yet the shade of the light canopy of trees provides ample comfort. At your words, however, the amicable conversation halts. Gingerly, you place his cup back on its saucer, uttering a quiet apology. "Sorry, sorry..."
Ugh, a quiet moment with someone you'd been pining after for ages, and you likely just sabotaged any chance you had. Making someone uncomfortable is surely not a way to have someone fall head over heels for you. You cautiously glanced upwards, catching the sight of... something you didn't expect...!?
He hid in his hand, raised and flush against his face. It was rather insufficient in the whole "hiding" department, however, for you could still clearly see the fluster on his features and the red cast across the tips of his ears. Just above the cover of his fingers were his eyes, hurriedly averted from yours. His mouth was slightly ajar, but in the moments that passed, his lips moved to form whispers you couldn't quite catch.
You stood, frantic. Really, every one of your plans was going awry. "I'm sorry! I, I'll go get you a new cup-"
"He caught his hand in his before you could fully depart, clutching it tightly. His usually cool skin was warm. "N, No, I- It's fine..."
He watched your face brighten with relief as you sat back down, completely cheery again, and released a breath quietly.
Ah, how was he supposed to tell you that the mere sight of your lips touching where he had put his made his heart skip a beat?
— It simply wasn't fair.
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — HEIZOU, KAEYA, CHILDE, venti, ayato, LYNEY
— "Wait, let me try..."
Word had gotten around of a new drink, supposedly "the best in all of teyvat"... naturally, that called for a timely visit. It didn't exactly matter who you went with, though who were you fooling, it did, and he'd been the first one that came to mind when you were drafting a letter. Now, he stood by your side, leisurely swinging his arms while he walked and smiling smugly.
The reason? The moment you reached into your pocket to fish out your wallet to pay the fee for two drinks, you'd found your pockets empty, and that's where he had swooped in, graciously handing over his mora instead. The moment the two of you exited the vicinity of the drink stall, however, he somehow materialized your wallet once more and placed it in your hands with a cat-like grin. That little... you'd be sure to treat him to a meal sometime soon, a favor like that couldn't just be gone unpaid.
...That, and it was a convenient excuse to spend another outing with him.
"Hey, you got the limited edition flavor? C'mon, give me just a sip..." You beamed when he handed said drink down towards you, taking a sip from his straw — until you realized just what you'd done, of course.
It wasn't like it was something dire, not by any means. You were rather the romantic, and the fact that... well, hadn't the two of you just kissed indirectly?
You didn't voice your thoughts, only meekly retreated after handing the bottle back to him, growing even more flustered when your fingers brushed against his in the process. He seemed to hear them, however, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.
"Oh, don't tell me you were aiming for an indirect kiss all along?"
"W- No!" Ugh, that twinkle in his eyes was dangerous. It's easy to see that he doesn't believe you in the slightest. Yet, before you can dispense another rebuttal, he reaches a hand up to your hair and makes a mess of it.
— "Aha, who knew you were so sly~"
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𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 — alhaitham, XIAO, albedo, diluc, neuvillette
— "Is something wrong?"
Well, not exactly "wrong", per se. Instead, there was definitely something wrong with you in particular.
The situation started off like any other would. You found the man in his usual place, and greeted him with a smile, to which he nodded in response. He was a busy person, so you'd decided to take the initiative and make him a boxed lunch, only planning to give it to him and then let him carry on with whatever tasks he needed to complete — only... hey, wasn't it too out of character of him to ask you to feed him??
He glanced up at you, his head subconsciously tilting to the side. Just with that simple movement, a figurative arrow struck your heart. "If it's too much trouble, nevermind-"
You awkwardly coughed into your fist, trying to disperse any awfully hopeful thoughts of "hey, isn't this so romantic!?" in your head — yearning for him was one thing, but projecting your imagination of him would be another entirely. "No, it's fine- I was just caught off guard, is all..." At this point, you were more so convincing yourself than him. You dipped your head in a nod to yourself. Of course, he was so swamped with duties that he couldn't spare the time to feed himself, that was the case, wasn't it?
"Here, open wide..." You took a portion of the food and lifted it up to his lips, and he ate it agreeably. Hamster. He's like a hamster, a thought you really shouldn't be having considering how his disposition was, but seeing him swiftly chewing the portion in his cheeks... you cleared your throat, only to flinch with a start upon realizing he'd taken the utensils from you. Now, he held some of the lunch up to you, gesturing it to your mouth.
"Eh, but this is for you-" You declined, yet the insistence in his gaze only grew.
"You brought it for me, so you should have some as well."
"Well... alright," not willing to bother with an argument you were not likely to win, you ate what he hovered before you gratefully, trying to ignore the way he was staring at you as you ate.
W, Wait, hold on, isn't that the same cutlery he used-
"Your face is red. Did you choke? Here, let me-"
"No, it's just that- we, just now- ah, it's nothing."
— "Mhm."
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( a/n ) new post format and its silly ( i hate everything about this ) :stareyes: ahahah anyways. trying to revive myself so. you guys get ( poorly cooked ) food :>
𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...
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anantaru · 5 months
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4 RULES TO SURVIVE A DIVORCE (GONE WRONG)
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — deciding to end your marriage with neuvillette might've been the hardest decision you've ever had to make in your life, although now, navigating through the divorce was becoming even more difficult, especially when you suddenly fail to stick to four simple rules you have both set between each other.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 7.8k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, ex! husband neuvillette, divorced couple goals lmao, fluff & crack, p with plot, lovers to strangers to lovers, size kink/size difference, rough sex, unprotected sex, unresolved tension and lots of bickering, sassy comments from the both of you, it's very much giving married old couple, office sex, cumming inside
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RULE NUMBER 1: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE AT ALL TIMES
by the sixth day of waking up to an empty bed— with the left side untouched and consisting of nothing but a feeble scent of vacant perfume, neuvillette has decided that he's had enough.
which wasn't to say that he's had enough of sleep, even though that's certainly a potent route to take, yet the neuvillette the people of fontaine knew was only the one they believed they knew.
in this agonizing moment in time, he wasn't sure on how long he could act out this picture-perfect facade for the sake of his people.
they thought he was brilliant, attractive, chocolate-box pretty.
a radiant, enigmatic dragon that was quite the sight to behold, his smile reminding the flowers of spring-time to blossom to their original beauty— awakening their way of life— ah well, such lovely things to ruminate on, or when they decide to appreciate his delicateness, how uniquely he viewed the world and how otherworldly soft he chose to explore it.
in a true sense, the alluring stories the people of fontaine told each other got one single piece about him right; that neuvillette was very handsome and soft to someone's eyes.
with all ones heart, the man unquestionably had enough of the irrefutable coldness wearing down on his shoulders, sitting there alone in an empty bedroom that was previously essential to his well being, with misery written all over his face and bursting at the seams of his mental health, just enough for him to stop talking all at once.
the cold bedspread was rough against his naked body, the mattress too soft to rest on and giving in beneath his weight. wholly crestfallen did neuvillette realize that sadly, the only way to return to the life he's lived a couple months ago, return to where he should be, was to somehow learn on how to travel back in time and make things right.
which from the bottom of his heart, was impossible.
it was confusing, he has to admit, because the only factor he found somewhat common now was on how empty the bedroom was— besides his own belongings, which weren't a lot in the first place, everything else was taken by you weeks ago, beloved items that were brimful of memories stacked in cold boxes and delivered to your new home.
a predictable event, he knows, and how embarrassingly predictable it had gotten that neuvillette found himself in teething trouble, precisely the issue of his sleep schedule in this bed— one you had bought together, shared together every single day, one you had made love to each other every single night.
a slump of mindless memories waft through his psyche, resembling a wicket current of catastrophes as he ultimately came to the conclusion that the reason he was unable to sleep must be because of you— his serious issues on being unable to rest, it has to be because of you.
neuvillette's thoughts and judgments were all scattered, rummaging through the vortex of problems he had endured through the weeks, a matter much more pressing than all of the other issues put together— he continuously waits and aches, hopes and dreams, and before he notices he's slowly healing, it all comes crashing down on him again.
a recollection long gone relives itself in his mind's eye, and his previous gaze gets overturned by a new, haunting stare.
this is why he had bought the bed in the first place, he remembers it vividly now, it's because you fell in love with it right away, you liked the way it felt underneath your body, heedless of how he personally never really found it comfortable.
concealed from everyone's eyes, neuvillette was deeply saddened, but he hadn't given his mental health much thought yet, because how do you even process that your wife has left you?
how do you tell anybody that you failed as a husband?
and it's raining again? what a hassle, although now he's acquired another way to fault himself on, most importantly hurt himself, because no one deserved the bad weather other than he himself did.
for the first time after gaining the position of the iudex of fontaine, neuvillette did not want to go to work. what if someone begins to ask too many invasive questions when he visits the palais mermonia today?
if that's the immediate case that was going to happen, he begins to think about it more clearly— a person asking about his private life was definitely trespassing his boundaries, right? he could immediately do something about it and put them on trial.
by that logic of his, neuvillette cannot fathom how humiliating it was, his face clouds with a mixture of desperation and disappointment in himself, because he can already imagine the hot off the press headlines on the cover of the steambird;
ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
IUDEX OF FONTAINE LEFT STRANDED BY FORMER WIFE! ARE YOU WONDERING WHY WE THINK THIS MARRIAGE WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START? GO FIND OUT IN THE NEW ISSUE OF THE STEAMBIRD. ©this article was written and published by journalist charlotte, do not plagiarize under any circumstances
up to the minute he was able to calm himself down, until imagining the wildfire of emotions an article like that would cause in fontaine.
all the unpleasant hours of arguing with you, even attempting to understand each other without actually coming to a conclusion on how to navigate a situation like that. aside from wanting to keep it all hidden from the outside world, leave it concealed and let the people of fontaine forget about the fact that you two had been married in the first place.
who cares, right? who gives a damn if it's husband or ex husband now? what even was the difference between a wife and an ex wife, you see that it's all the same?
ugh, who was he fooling besides himself.
the whole 'ex-wife' was aggravating him to the point where it made him physically sick.
why can't he just flip a switch and everything goes back to normal like it never happened in the first place. neuvillette wanted his normal life back, the normal life he thought you both loved and would continue to live on until your dying days.
in the end, neuvillette saw no other route around it other than to quit using it all together, maybe stop talking about you entirely.
by all means, it's not like he will talk to anybody about the divorce, maybe besides you when he has to mention it. granted that he might not talk to you about it either, because he wasn't allowed to see you right now, neither were you allowed to see him.
on how it came to that point was genuinely understandable.
after the divorce was finalized, new adjustments had to be made regarding your previous living situations, shared income and the future possibility of seeing each other.
as was anticipated, before he was able to say anything or make suggestions, you had already started to list out a couple of "important rules" that you made up, you called them rules but in the iudex mind he called them pesky little regulations.
regardless of his distaste for them, he wrote them down on a piece of paper as to not aggravate you.
well, he found it a bit bizarre, but neuvillette thought it must be a serious requirement at this point. it was his first divorce so how was he supposed to know how to navigate through one? it wasn't supposed to be easy, that's what he knew, it's very heart breaking and draining his life force.
although funnily enough, his overwhelm strengthens after you waltzed over the fourth rule of the day. that's one rule too much in his opinion.
just how many were there?
"i can't think of a better solution," you state whilst leaning your body against his desk, always facing the ground, you wouldn't want to lock gazes with him during such difficult time.
"we may even be able to talk again in the future, you know,"
but did you really want to?
it's safe to say that neuvillette would want to keep in contact, but it's certain that this would not only stress you both out in the long run, possible new partners could also get weirded out by the fact that you two were still talking and they may become jealous.
neuvillette stifles a groan, scribbling down the second rule that left your mouth before absorbing the letters on the piece of paper, "it's for the best if we keep a distance,"
to say like that was a punch in the gut would be an understatement, despite the fact that you proposed the idea in the first place.
alas and without any of you knowing before setting out those four simple rules, now— weeks after, you had found yourself in a position that made it near impossible to keep a distance from each other, or at least make eye contact in a social gathering.
for you, it has become your life in a literal sense to comb through this difficulty, for neuvillette, the possibility of seeing you in the future would secure his sanity and keep him from turning as mad as a hatter.
patience. the incurable truth was patience.
this afternoon, you have to talk for at least five minutes, with a window consisting of a maximum of ten minutes if one of you talked slowly— it's not like you want to see him, but you have to visit your ex husbands office to sign a paper regarding your previously shared finances and then you're good to go for the day again, you can leisurely exit his office and leave this failed relationship behind, exactly where it belonged in the first place, deeply stored in the past.
previously during the negotiations, neuvillette was quite persistent in leaving you the house which was located a little outside of fontaine. he was in no need of it anymore and wanted you to have it, without payments required.
between us two, it's quite obvious he wanted to get rid of it.
but so did you.
you didn't want to stay there, not now, not ever, you wouldn't sign that damned paper even if the god of contracts suddenly came knocking on your door and force you to.
all the memories in that house would eventually eat you up, they'd definitely destroy you, the gnawing grief would certainly keep you awake at night.
originally after telling your ex husband that you didn't want the house, he was able to find you a flat in the city— it's small but cute, and it had everything you needed. a cozy bedroom, a kitchen that was big enough to dance in while you're preparing dinner and an area where you can set up an office for yourself.
how convenient it was that you were previously married to the person that is in charge of fontaine.
aside from that and the fact that you were practically making neuvillette handle the most difficult parts of this— you realize how a sudden guilt was stored on your shoulders, you could barely face him after that.
the parts he needed to handle included, but were not limited to,  well, a problem slightly more irritating since it was about his life, turning approximately a hundred other problems he deals with on a daily a whole lot easier.
most of the legal process was handled by him, and only him for that matter, meaning that he had to spend additional hours on it and was barely able to move on with his life after losing you.
unlike you did.
well frankly, it's only been a couple of weeks, a month at best since you've last seen him— although it has been much longer since you've last felt him.
there really wasn't a lot going on in your life after breaking things off, it's always a grueling whirlwind of;
waking up, heading to work, walking home, eating, sleeping, repeat.
most significantly, your new bed felt a bit hard as well, it's uncomfortable and drove you insane.
you missed the one you had previously shared with neuvillette— wether it was because of the way it felt underneath you or because of its much better quality.
perhaps it was also that in the past, you had the chance of leaning against a warm body whenever you were freezing— the secret on why you found your new bed worse in comparison to your old one would certainly remain a secret forever.
it can never be answered, because you do not even know the answer yourself.
it's frequent and happens all the time— when you suddenly begin to wonder late in the evening if this was the right decision after all.
then again, a divorce wasn't necessarily something you would just forget from one day to the other— aside from that, there was a reason it happened, considering the countless events of arguing and the inability of you both to find a solid middle ground.
when you notice that a relationship drains the life out of you, or makes you cry your heart out late at night, a decision has to be made eventually, especially before it would turn your love into resentment or make your respect for the other person dwindle away.
was it really that surprising that you had your doubts?
when it comes down to it, neuvillette wasn't a bad man and you would never speak poorly of him. he was everything else but bad, which reminds you of the reason you had fallen in love with him.
but in earlier days, he had a reflection less of the way he was than of the way he wanted you to see him.
it was challenging for neuvillette to open up to you.
but hell, you're certain you won't be able to find someone who'd ever make you as happy as he did, bring you sweet tummy aches when he makes you laugh all night, or be there for you when you're sick and unable to take care of yourself.
you shake your head in embarrassment, your cheeks aflame as you're drawing several deep, steadying breaths— perhaps that's just how you're supposed to think right now.
it's not real, it cannot be.
right now, you feel like you should've never broken it off, but this marriage had been on death's door for months before the decision was finally formed— albeit from afar, no one had ever suspected anything and you're quite proud of that, in fact, both of you made sure no one would notice too much of what had been going on behind closed doors— like good spouses should always protect each other.
among other things, taking into consideration just how important his work and image was, the last outcome you wanted was for your ex husband to endure dreadful gossips about him.
neuvillette did not deserve a single negative word against him, this man deserved nothing but the finest life for himself— furthermore, after spending yet another night without sleep and thinking about your ex husband, you believed that the best for him just wasn't you.
it never has been.
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RULE NUMBER 2: NEVER SHOW UP TO EACH OTHERS HOME OR WORK, NOT EVEN ON EMERGENCIES, ESPECIALLY NOT IF YOU MISS EACH OTHER
it's a little clumsy when you first enter his office, accompanied by an unnerving type of awkwardness outstretching across the room as neuvillette meets your eyes right away— but his head drops after around two seconds and he puffs out a wretched sigh, sounding as if he's about to cry.
neuvillette thought that this should've been way easier— but before you, he has never felt real love like yours before, and he was quite certain that this type of love only happens once in life.
the melusines were also happy to see you, and you could tell that they were equally as confused as you were— they probably did not realize what was going on and nor did you really want them to know.
given that their love and admiration for neuvillette was bottomless and you wouldn't want them to suddenly harbor a disdain for you.
nevertheless, when you listened to what they were whispering about behind your back, they were talking about how you must've been away for travel or desperately needed a vacation from fontaine, or one even mentioned that you might've been sick— considering how dead and empty your eyes looked those past weeks.
then there's the "being busy with work". ah well, the excuses were surely endless and somewhat amusing, you know you're not taking care of yourself when every second a melusine talks about how tired you looked and if you needed a glass of water.
everything but a divorce was being spoken about, at least you managed to hide that well.
your gaze lifts to meet his own again when neuvillette stands up from his desk and looks at you from the opposite side of the table.
under further examination of your facial expression, he notices the slight discomfort that buzzes underneath your skin, especially around your eyes and how you could barely look at him for more than five seconds.
beneath the familiar emotion of being in the same room as him, the sharp bite of his aftershave slips down the back of your throat when you suck in a sharp, choked breath, tensing like a tree at each step forward.
why do you look like you haven't slept for days?
it cannot be, right? but he was paying attention to certain details, either relevant or not he notices how you're looking around without focus, or shift the weight of your body from left foot to right foot.
and well, his supernatural senses were sharp, immediately picking up on your heart pounding against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats.
his fingers twitch slightly with the document in his hand as he remains in his position, waiting for you to come closer.
"this couch doesn't seem very comfortable for sleep," you point to the sofa in his office, in an attempt to break the awkward tension, your chin forwarding to the left where a neatly put blanket and a small pillow sat on top of the furniture.
just how many nights has he spent here? did he even sleep in the first place? was he taking care of himself and should you worry?
it's safe to say that his work shouldn't be in danger, but it really is killing you that you cannot ask without coming across like a desperate ex, and you're fully aware that it would also go against your rules.
but neuvillette has always taken his important occupation very serious, sometimes even to the point where he forgot about his own marriage and his wife waiting for him at home with freshly made dinner served and his most favorite beverage awaiting him on a beautifully set up table and— yikes, that escalated quickly.
you're beginning to remember one of the reasons as to why this marriage failed.
"i hope you do not mind if i ask," neuvillette stifles a groan, "but are you mentioning this out of curiosity or are you speaking down on my new sleeping area?" the hint of sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, the underlying scorn making you wince.
and oh, "sleeping area" was a big statement for that little excuse of a couch, you're very much aware that he can barely fit all of him on it and always had troubles finding a comfortable spot when he fucked— uh, well, when you did things to each other there.
yes, you already know how it felt on there, and who could possibly know of the plentiful times you had been intimate with each other on that couch.
wait a minute, was that the reason? was he already having a rebound this soon after your divorce?
no, it cannot be.
not your neuvillette, hold on, scrap that and reverse, he wasn't your neuvillette anymore.
it's stinging and like pins and needles on your heart when you think about neuvillette fucking someone on the exact same place he made love to you— leading to the conclusion that simply looking at the couch made you sick to your stomach, instantly setting off another unpleasant lurch of nausea yet you could still muster enough strength to fix yourself for the sake of this conversation.
he wouldn't dare, okay, this is the last time you're discussing this with yourself;
what if he wanted you to see this, tell you that:
hey, look at me! i am so happy without you stupid witch, and i already have a new partner too, isn't that nice for me? there really is no need for you to be worried about me, so please sign this document and exit my office.
because i am getting my dick sucked every single day!
your heart beat turns feverish in your chest, and you quickly snap your head towards the direction of your ex husband, "isn't it obvious that i was just trying to make conversation with you?" you retort back, swatting away the dust lingering on your clothes while simultaneously coughing out in an awkward manner.
"although i really cannot imagine that this couch is somewhat comfortable to sleep on."
"i believe you must still remember on how it felt laying there yourself,"
yikes, what a great comeback from him, and he didn't mean to say it like he's spitting venom into your mouth, it's almost like he wanted to tell you that it's your loss you cannot make yourself comfortable on here, even though he wouldn't mind bending you on all fours again like he did last— okay, that's enough.
there was a half-visible smirk on his face that aggravated you, the absolute last expression you were expecting to see from him.
you roll your eyes, "trust me, i don't want to," you reply, pinching your eyebrows together while assessing your distaste of his answer.
just when did an innocent question about a dusty, old couch turn into— whatever that conversation was about.
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RULE NUMBER 3: DO NOT ASK INTIMATE QUESTIONS ABOUT EACH OTHERS PRIVATE LIFE
no, stop it, that doesn't seem right, neuvillette shouldn't treat you this way.
right now, he was experiencing his worst nightmare and the previous gears of sadness grind to a halt upon perceiving another emotion— one, that certainly scared him.
whatever the case, he wouldn't repeat his mistake, accepting any destiny the universe would bestow on him as he silently promises himself to stop any anger from slipping past the tip of his tongue.
pressing your lips together, you dig your heels into the ground, "okay, forget it, i don't have a lot of time," an unexpected force of confidence pushes you forward until you could feel the wooden desk graze across your thighs, you're so close now and the only thing keeping your bodies apart was the desk in between.
your mind was repeatedly screaming at your frame to stop moving before you actually did, "i have to be somewhere in, uh, about a couple hours, so lets finish this quickly."
what a sweet and pretty liar that you were, terribly aware that the only thing waiting for you tonight was your bed.
what a sad image, but he must not know!
"oh?" neuvillette mutters bitterly, a nervous rasp roughening his voice.
"a date, i assume?"
you would have gasped if you had any breath to spare, because you did not think this would actually work in a million years.
"ah, ah, ah," you note in a triumphant colored tone, happily waving your pointer finger from left to right.
"this, dear iudex, goes against rule number three."
content, neuvillette resumes to the document in his hand before placing it in the middle of the desk, sucking in a short, harsh breath, eyes deepening down south, just any area that wasn't you,
"of course, my apologies,"  his tone was thick, sickly sweet with barely cloaked amusement.
now he knows you're lying— he knows you so well it's almost embarrassing.
"this, is why you came for, right?"
you fumble a blistering retort that died with the hard press of teeth against your tongue, "mhm," you murmur in a low, rich tone, his casual unbothered spirit was dangerously convincing.
oh well, he must have gotten it right— and ah, you were remarkably stubborn too, resisting even the most innocent type of help coming from him as you take a random pen laying across the other side of the desk instead of the one in neuvillette's hand.
your eyes slowly scatter over the document, your brain struggling to put together the authoritative choice of words displayed in front of you.
"please elaborate on that," you press a finger on a significantly befuddling paragraph.
neuvillette muses agreeably before slanting against the desk to see for himself— and when he did you got a real good taste of his perfume suddenly invading your nostrils, playing devils advocate when you flinch back a little.
"do not worry yourself about this," his answer came so quickly you barely caught it, spelled out without a flutter of hesitation.
"everything is accounted for," he adds gently, you only need to put your name, there,"
your once-vulnerable eyes now squint stormily, "that smart mouth of yours surely has been busy, i can tell," as you place the pen on the desk before dropping both arms to your side— the man before you narrowed speechless, burning his eyes through your smug face.
"oh, just how many tricks did you pick up on your way here?" he replies sternly, accentuating the "here" as to remind you on where you currently were— as if that would somehow make him look threatening, you have been in his office plenty of times before, both naked and fully clothed, so neuvillette surely must search for another way to dominate this conversation.
priding himself in front of you with his position as iudex certainly wouldn't work on his ex wife.
"why?" you retort, "you like it?"
"indeed i do, or is that what you want me say, i assume?"
"no," a soft sigh above you echoes your own, "but i do find it weird that you'd want me to sign something without explaining it to me,"
"i did explain it to you multiple times, in fact, last time we saw each other i even asked you if you understood what i was referring to,"
an instinctive flutter of frustration, anger and exhaustion slips down his throat, "and if i recollect my memories," he coughs out and walks around his desk, so that nothing was in between you anymore.
"—you have said your time was limited." the radiating dominance of his body momentarily presses your back against the table, trapping you in the middle, caging between a wooden desk and your ex lover.
"that was weeks ago," you pause, "it's normal for most people to want a quick run through on a document of this importance,"
"it's normal?"
"it's normal," you reaffirm.
"how interesting indeed. i will keep that in mind," 
you lean your weight against the desk as to keep the eye contact with him in an attempt to stand your round, and the two of you have since lost the original purpose of this meeting.
"how could you possibly forget that?"
your voices flap over in an unmusical tune when neuvillette attempts to reply to you, although your tone was far louder than his. 
there was an awkward moment of silence that was practically slicing the air within your bodies and it's unusual on just how strong the tension had gotten in a span of two minutes. not to mention that he was so close— you honestly preferred it when his desk was keeping you both apart.
it was hard to remember anything and keep a rational mind, neuvillette realized that and found himself deeply saddened on how quick this meeting went out of hand and turned to this.
but a whispered sentence reaches your hearing and immediately calms you into a warm, relaxing state, "i apologise," he speaks finally and it surprises you, a nervous rasp shaking his voice,
"i shouldn't have talked to you in such disrespectful manner,"
your eyes widen, "no," and your cheeks grow hot with deep embarrassment, "it's really my fault, i need to apologize to you," as you force out a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten up the mood.
"don't," neuvillette retorts back, contemplating wether he should or not but lastly deciding to rest a hand over your shoulder before he squeezes it, a smile manifesting on his lips— and it was otherworldly radiant, illuminating his complete face with deep warmth and joy.
"i always loved that witty side of yours."
he doesn't say anything for a moment, in fact, neither of you do— and the feeling of him touching you again after weeks of spending apart from each other, and despite it being just his palm on your shoulder, was instantly turning your knees into jelly.
the minute of silence felt like twenty years as neuvillette straightens his body upright, drawing a more serious touch along your shoulder before moving his palm from your collarbone until curving his hand along your cheek, holding your gaze through bright, gemstone-like eyes.
he must be crazy, he thinks— because right now, he's going against everything he has promised himself not to do, and everything you have told him not to do as well. but fuck, he hasn't touched you like this in so long, the last time was long before your divorce, and the helpless intensity of his desire horrified him.
it's when neuvillette suddenly realizes that he has never stopped loving you— not even for a minute, nor a searing second.
it was impossible to stop loving you.
"it's just that i…" your voice grows softer and quieter the more you attempt to speak and your heart thuds feverishly in your chest that you're pretty much aware he must notice it too, "everything feels terrible," you admit hesitantly and flutter your eyes up at him, your gaze fanning over the soft pink across his facial features. 
neuvillette begins to move his thumb across your cheek, "please forgive me for failing us," he whispers weakly, on the brink of tears, "for failing the only thing that made life worth living," his throat adds a slightly hoarse perception to his tone.
your eyes widen as you attempt to drop your head if not for neuvillette holding your cheek in his palm as a whirlwind of crystallines well up in your eyes, sousing your lashes.
your mind was gone, but suddenly you can think more clear— and you're not depending on the damaging daze that was originally controlling your body's autopilot feature— the grueling circle of work, sleep, repeat.
you sniffle between words, "no!" and helplessly slant into his chest as to bury your face in the fabric of his garments, "it's my fault, not yours!" continuing to cry and wail and sob your heart out.
"please don't hate me! don't resent me!"
being able to finally let go of all those stored emotions in your heart felt utterly freeing, as if an unbearable weight was lifted off your chest.
how did you two even end up in this situation? can someone, just anyone, make this agony for the both of you stop?
neuvillette shushes your cries with a soft shhh, folding his arms around your waist before smoothing one hand across your back. he decides to rest his head on top of yours, his warm breath fanning against your hair as you return his hug, pulling him deeper into you.
"i could never hate you," neuvillette sighs, "it's because i have never stopped loving you," before putting on weight around his embrace on you— perhaps as to prepare himself, because he was sure you were about to smack him due to what he just bluntly admitted to you.
while he knows it was certainly deserved as well, no excuse would make this proclamation easier even in the slightest.
but he doesn't regret it, it's over now. he just wanted to get this off his chest even if you'd most likely break off any remaining contact to him— although now he realizes that you've given him so much and he won't let you go again, not before repeatedly telling you that he loves you, loves you, loves you.
despite him believing that his efforts went to waste.
to his surprise, you did not hit him, nor did you yell at him or ask if he's hit his head somewhere— instead, you slowly move yourself from his chest, a saddened gaze meeting his own as a single tear falls from your eye.
your answer dwells a moment before you push it out, "i love you too," and whisper, "i love you so much," before you're peering at him with an expression he couldn't begin to decipher— for what's obvious, it's pure and selfless, a startled hum immediately following the last syllable that leaves your mouth when neuvillette suddenly slants his head forward to feel your lips.
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RULE NUMBER 4: DO NOT FUCK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, PLEASE JUST DON'T DO IT, SNAP OUT OF IT, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SEX WHILE BEING IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER
by all means, this wasn't supposed to happen— hell, you don't even know how you got here.
but his eyes were enticing as they meet your gaze, a deep source of exuberance affecting your delirium and when he leans into you to kiss your lips, his soft lashes clash against your skin, his traces subtle enough to make you feel a faint tingle shiver downwards your heat.
against all odds, neuvillette was terrible at making this any easier for the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to pull away after the third, fourth or fifth kiss, there was no way of ending this and his tongue made sure to clash against yours at each lap— this passion, it had no resistance, it will always find a way to flourish.
nothing more, nothing less, and you've got the iudex right under a fucking spell because even when his life felt depressing after you left him, when he was living through all those weeks and tried to navigate through this divorce— now, his heart had suddenly begun to beat again, although neuvillette knew that this would go against the fourth, and most important rule you had set up.
but he cannot stop.
blood racing, nerves alight, he pushes you against the desk and helps you to get on top of it.
you wanted him to pleasure you, needed him to use his hands and devour those pretty lips of yours— whine as his mouth carvs in a smirk, so excited and sooth as silk when you wrap your arms around his neck to push his frame against your chest, so he could easily rest his entire weight on top of your own.
"you're gorgeous," he coos, "so utterly breathtaking," the thought of you craving his attention to that level was flooding him with pride, it made his skin crawl with a thousand thunderous vibrations that hit the bulge in his pants, your wet kisses and hot traces fueling the withdrawals of your soul on his skin.
the dizziest groan touches your glossed lips— and neuvillette flips over your skirt to expose your drenched panties to his hungry stare, his eyes instantly hard with lust and love, every measure of his yearning openly shown as his cock twitches uncomfortably in his clinging pants. 
you moan a dreamy sigh when the freezing office air hits your most sensitive parts, the tone leaving your lips high-pitched and desperate to feel more of him. in response, you earn a rough groan from neuvillette as he discards of his belt, dopamine shaking his soul alive, manifesting ruthlessly and tempting as you hug him tight, your erected nipples crushing against his strong chest.
you kiss along his neck with tenderness and feel the intense force of redness on his flustered cheeks, your tongue swift to blend over the quivering skin as you lash fiercely at the outline of his jaw between sharp flares of teeth tickling his face— his bewitching expression being held captive by your hand gripping his jaw hard enough to pull him towards you.
unwinding with relief, neuvillette manages to pull his tight slacks off, sighing as he drew out his hard cock and aching balls— instantly taking himself in his palm before fisting it slow in front of your hole. a thrum of arousal around the slit of his tip intensifies his need to crowd you with his shaft, and he gracefully strokes himself until you wrap your fingers around his wrist as to stop him for a second.
"i want you to make love to me," you mumble impatiently, "it's been so long," and neuvillette follows your lead in a flash and a quick nod of his head, making sure that you're sitting all comfortable on the desk and that you wouldn't hurt yourself with a random utensil on the table before he urges you to wrap your legs around his waist, your thighs squeezing his hips close.
"everything you say, i do," neuvillette reassures you, "forever,"
your broken moans and bulging eyes excite him, not to mention when you refuse to let go of him. of course, who knows what will happen after desire subsides and you're both thinking rationally again, after all, you do trust him with your life, but you're still divorced and sure you would look stunning on your second wedding with him, he would very much prefer to marry you right after fucking the broad daylight out of your figure.
gently clutching at your clothes, neuvillette slowly lifts up the fabric until you're wholly exposed for him to feast on, at last working your panties down your legs as they hit the ground, a coy smile spreading across his lips— your naked body was prancing in front of him, reminding him on how gorgeous you were, especially now as your lips hang apart and your lewd whines spill from the tip of your tongue.
your pretty nipples were erected as well, laying a familiar caress up his spine when you grind your chest against his chiseled one, encircling the exposed skin until it comes to meet in front.
"just look at you," he mutters proudly, almost to himself, his cheeks flushed as he ducks his head to hide the beginnings of a pleased smile when he kisses your shoulder. the praises set your blood raising, pumping a hotness into your pussy as you moan out his name in sweet tandem, feeling the slight trace of his cock-head shadowing your hole.
you will do so well tonight, neuvillette thinks to himself, and before he helps you keep your legs parted, he teases your entrance with a half-hearted push of his cock. you want him closer and carry on to search for his entire weight on top of you as his dripping dick slides past the tight edges of your hole, your pussy throbbing as it began to hurt a little— just a bit, and it's important to note that you weren't used to this anymore, used to him, and it's because all the pheromones are currently leaving your body that it was worth having a slight pain come by.
because you knew neuvillette will do anything in his power to make it hurt as little as possible— so you could enjoy his erection painting your walls white as you moan avidly, your pussy rubbing deliciously on him, his hand continuously massaging the delicious, soft skin of your thighs and ass.
you breathe a shaky sigh of relief when he snakes himself half-way in, a gentle breeze of your whimpers scatter across the room as neuvillette continues to push inch after inch of himself into you, your body relaxing underneath his much bigger one as you welcome him, beautiful moans and whimpers spilling from the back of your throat.
oh, how much you missed sucking in his cock like your life depended on it— and whatever issues would arise after this sinful encounter, neither of you was giving an inch of mind to those future concerns.
"there you go, that's what you need," neuvillette grunts, tensing his jaw and limiting his breathing because fuck, how are you still so fucking tight— in any other case, he would never skip foreplay with you, knowing that his size tends to be too big for your pussy, sometimes offering you help in spreading your puffy cunt apart— but he is aware that you're extra wet today, he notices how much easier it was to slide himself through your walls and collect your slick.
a slightest raw edge of desperation made his groan sound almost like a plea when your pussy clamps down on his shaft, and neuvillette moans softly as he bows down to trap your lips against his own, sliding down his tongue and lapping at yours, wet and slow, wet and slow, a low hiss of pleasure accentuating his skilled ministrations.
your pussy squeezes him gently and wets him thoroughly so that his flushed cock glistens in your walls as neuvillette allows himself to nuzzle his face against your neck, humming appreciatively when he began to move his hips, drinking in the light tears that swell in the corners of your eyes as he kisses them away.
everything was so filthy, just like that, and you're back to square one again— it's lewd enough to make his cock throb heavily between your legs when he picks up on his shallow tempo, warm and viscous grinds of his thick cock pounding you in two, wild and passionate burning through your sore hole and matching the rhythm of your hips that were catching his shoves halfway.
fuck, you missed his cock filling you up, shaking at the added stimulation when one hand squeezes your tits— not to mention how heavy it felt to have him deep in your guts again, his slicked erection pawing through your walls and searching for your pleasure spots, until you're practically writhing of overstimulation, most importantly releasing the stress you endured those past weeks.
somehow, everything felt more intense tonight— ecstatic and as if you're drugged of his cock, like you broke off the connection from clear reality each moment his tip inches down the searing spots in your cunt— your screams muffled by his strong shoulder which resulted in your noises coming out in weak cries and sobs.
"i'm— i'm so close." it's the way you said it, the way you wanted him to hear you.
neuvillette glances down on you, "yeah?" he cannot hold back anymore, your walls were too hot and too tight, his thudding erection cornering your bruised pussy as his cheeks turn cherry red— the tip of his ears shading the same color, "will never let you go again..." the following sentence comes from under his breath, a strong utterance, holding graven significance as it ignites flames deep within the pits of your core.
it's so unbelievably sexy when you tell him that he's about to make you cum, and the repeated proclamations of love were aiding your orgasm in unraveling much more intense— neuvillette parts his lips before pinching your nipples in between his digits, never faltering nor losing the steady streams of thrusts on your sex, paying no mind to your minor struggle of keeping his thick member within your sloppy hole.
the moans you sob are bringing him such satisfaction as well, particularly the ones of his name made him swallow down the assembling saliva in his mouth, leaving small kisses against your face as his adams apple bobs harshly against his throat when he grinds his hips into your heat— your slick seeping out at the corners of your hole as your beautiful legs hover over his waist to get into that ideal position.
he cups your pretty face without stopping the shallow tempo on your cunt, "i.. want you to look at me," his rhythm becoming blistering and rapid— it almost pains him to hold himself back, or the desire to cum but wanting to make you climax first. it's like his shaft runs through satin, pressing back and forth the finest silk but it's your pussy instead, so soft and taking his shape, you're made for him and he'll never let you forget.
even though he could hardly breathe because of how achingly hard he was, caged within the tight embrace of your walls as tears spring to his eyes, slip down his flaming cheeks, being wild and free and finally one with you again— in addition to the exciting sounds of wet noises of skin clashing on skin providing the last bonus puzzle pieces to make you spiral out of complete control.
a static crushes as if underwater in your ears— and neuvillette rolls his hips fast and hard, purring deeply when your legs wrap and urge him to penetrate you further. the pleasure buried in you was coiling from the base of your spine and found the candid bubble in your belly before snapping into a million pieces— your gorgeous noises finding his ears as he fucks you faster, yanking his head back and clenching his jaw as you came apart together, moaning into each others mouths and welcoming your orgasm with melting, soothing moans.
you shake your head and bury yourself into his warm embrace, earning you a smile you cannot even see when your thighs shake around his waist as he continues to pump his seed into you, the warm covers of milky whites prolonging your orgasm and intensifying it to a tenfold.
just in time too, his hot gift soothes the soreness on your walls as neuvillette deafens your body with a post-orgasm sensitivity that catches you in a trance, his cock still buried inside and never leaving your tight hole as you work to somehow get a hold of your breath again, letting you ease the stress he senses from you.
the stone-hard desk underneath you was bruising and uncomfortable, but it's bearable when you nuzzle yourself into your ex lover, or, well— current lover? soon to be fiance again?
"do not worry your pretty head," his hand lovingly brushes over your head as you fuse into his trace, "i will take care of everything," as he's allowing you to indulge in the intimate atmosphere you have missed so dearly, "i could marry you right this second, wherever you want," and with that sort of enthusiasm, you hold in every passing word with love, knowing that whatever the case— neuvillette and you will figure out a way, but you'll do it together, as a team.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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bysaber · 9 months
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weeping dragon
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pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader
summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.
content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending
wc: 800
a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol
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Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.
He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?
You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.
A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.
“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”
You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.
“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.
The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”
It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?
Something you wanted to hold?
“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”
Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.
Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”
And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.
“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”
Worried.
She is worried.
The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.
“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.
I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”
Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.
“Neuv—”
“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.
The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.
“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”
And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.
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crystallinestars · 6 months
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How They React to Your Death
My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.
This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.
Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley
WARNING:
Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.
Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.
MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.
Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.
Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism
🎧 Alhaitham
Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.
Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.
When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.
At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.
What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.
No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.
During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.
Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.
What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.
🐋 Childe
You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.
The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.
He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.
Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.
Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.
Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.
Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.
🔍 Heizou
Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.
To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?
The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.
His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.
After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.
Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.
The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.
Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.
🍷 Kaveh
Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.
A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.
Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.
The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.
Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.
Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.
It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.
Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.
Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.
🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.
Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.
Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.
You were dead.
Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.
Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.
He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.
Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.
Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.
⚖️ Neuvillette
You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.
When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.
It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.
When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.
That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.
Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.
Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.
However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.
Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.
🍃 Venti
Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.
Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.
Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.
Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.
Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.
In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.
Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.
During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.
Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.
☂️ Wanderer
You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.
Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”
He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.
Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.
He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.
He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?
You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.
Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.
It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.
Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.
Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.
Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.
🐺 Wriothesley
You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.
Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.
When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.
There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.
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toasteaa · 2 months
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Idk how this became a Neuvillette and Zhongli blog but here we are
They're crowding me into a corner and arguing in the most polite way because they can't hurl mountains at each atm, and I'm just trying to take a nap. Neuvillette is not exactly happy that Deus Auri decided he wanted to come be social with me and Zhongli is just seeing how hard he can push the envelope. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?
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neuvifuri · 6 months
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thinking about how in the aftermath, neuvillette and furina both returned home and they talked. he told her everything focalors had told him, and she just said “i’m tired” and in the morning she was packed and gone. and he tells the traveler, he will still take care of her, and she will have a home and food and protection and she shall want for nothing. and travel, to leave fontaine, to go where he can’t follow, if she wishes it. and her voice line about him says “i haven’t been to the palais in a while, that’s good for both of us, right?” and his voice line about her says “i would like to see her again to give her my earnest praise… yes, i should definitely like to see her again.” and in her story quest he sounds so fond of her, proud that she’s branching out and reconnecting with her interests, and if the traveler speaks to him after he says he was always enthralled by her, and that he hopes she knows it was sincere. all the ways she’s saying none of it was real, you must hate me. and all the ways he’s saying it was real for me, i loved you. i still love you.
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quimichi · 7 months
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↳ CALLING THE FONTAINE BOYS YOUR GOOD BOY ༉‧₊˚✧
Fontaine boys x Creator!Reader
Lyney
"You're my good boy Lyney aren't you?" Lyney nods, barely able to repress his excitement. He smiles widely and scoots a little closer to you. "If I weren't your good boy, what else would I be?" he says softly. Your perfect little magician, putting in a show for you daily if youd asked, Lyney thinks to himself. He leans into your touch, relishing the sensations. Your hands on his cheeks are like a warm, reassuring hug, one that he has long pined for.
To hear you say those words— my one and only good boy— is his greatest joy, enough to make him think of nothing more. He forgets his past and future when he's with you. All he sees, is his grace, no one and nothing else matters.
Lyney smiles brightly. "Your Grace, I think— no, I *know* that I am your one and only good boy," he says confidently. He looks up at you, his gaze soft and adoring. He reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand as you had done for him moments before, and gently strokes your face.
"You have no reason to doubt that I am yours," Lyney says softly, what a charmer "I will always be yours, and no other's. I have sworn it to myself"
"Oh, have you now?" "I have," Lyney replies with a warm, almost smug grin. "I have sworn to be yours forever," he says confidently. "No other God is more important to me, no other...powerful being, and no other love will ever supersede the one I feel for you, my love."  
The great magician's expression and tone are both soft and tender. He gazes at you like you are the single most precious thing in the world. "And no one could ever dare take me from you...I will put up the fight of my life for you"
(Clearly not me thinking of Arlecchino here nouuu)
Freminet
"You can come as close as you want, Freminet" Your soft voice is enough to make Freminet obey, lurr him in like the depths of Fontaine.
He moves closer, his hands clasping the fabric of your robes. As he does so, he meets your gaze for a moment, before his eyes slowly start to drift shut. The closer he gets, the warmer he feels... and the less painful his life is.
He remains silent for several precious, peaceful moments, before finally whispering, "Have I pleased you, Your Grace?"
"My good boy always pleases me" Freminet feels tears well up in his eyes. To be called 'good' by you, to please you, to belong to you, to belong to someone who actually loves him...
Freminet closes his eyes as tight as he holds Pers close to his chest, and bites back a sob. His entire body shakes with happiness and emotion. He grips your robes tighter, and buries his face into your lap, unable to stop himself. You let your hands go through his hair, to comfort the distressed boy. Your fingers are enough to calm him. Freminets tears dry up and his body slowly calms beneath your gentle touch, his breathing growing quieter and his heart slowing. Maybe the ocean isn't his only comfort anymore?
Eventually, Freminet peeks up at you. He tries to form a smile, but it's only tentative... and it breaks apart almost immediately. He glances away, ashamed but also wanting to make you proud.
"I— I'm sorry for crying, Your Grace," he mumbles. "Never apologize for having feelings"
You're exactly what he needs, and craves.
Neuvillette
"My good boy, please come to me" you coo the moment he stepped into the hall "Y-Y-Your Grace...?" Your voice, full of warmth and love, causes him to startle. It almost feels as if his heart has skipped a beat. A small smile creeps onto his face that only you can see. "What is it you require of me?"
Neuvillettes voice is soft, filled with affection for you. This is no different from how he treats his people in Fontaine, yet your position makes it all the more special. Your commands cannot be ignored. "My, you look stressed are you well?" Your voice is gentle. You have always been gentle with him, caring and loving. This has not gone unnoticed.
Your words seem to cause him to pause. He thinks for a moment before nodding slowly. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I am well but stressed"
He swallows, glancing back up at you. He can never hide anything from you, which is why he's always so honest. "I... am worried for the state of our nation, and our people."
"Does my good boy need a hug?" a simple thought, but it made his heart skip. "A hug... I suppose a hug could help ease my worries, Your Grace."
After he's spoken, you can see him shift in place. You can't be sure if it's nervous energy or genuine anxiety, but he seems uncertain. Perhaps he's afraid to approach you after your last few weeks away. He would never admit it, not even to himself, as he's too prideful. But every night you don't spend in his chambers leaves him restless. Your presence eases him. You have always been his comfort.
Like the softest summer rain.
Wriothesley
"Oh good, youre back. Come here now" He does so without a second thought, and his eyes fix upon yours. He is close enough to touch you, if he so chooses. He has no fear— he is loyal, devoted, and a fanatic. And maybe hes a simp. "What is it, Your Grace?" he murmurs, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "I just wanted my good boy in my presence or am i to greedy?"
His entire body seems to relax as soon as you speak. He nods immediately. "I am here, Your Grace. Nothing you do would ever seem to greedy." He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with an almost unhealthy amount of devotion. When you call him your "good boy," his ears prick up and his cheeks flush with the heat of passion.
"Then stay with me please"
Wriothesley nods again, and remains on his knees at your feet. His hands clench tightly together, and his blue eyes watch you with something close to reverence.
"Your wish is my command, Your Grace."
(I'm bad at writing him I'm so sorry)
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