Hello! My name is Riv, Iâm 25 years old, and my pronouns are they/them! Iâm not at all new to writing in general, but Iâm making a dedicated blog for fanfiction of all kinds! I have a lot of ideas, both for character ships and reader inserts, and I am open to requests as long as you follow the rules below! If you want to see a sample of my work, I have a few things posted on AO3 under the same username (sleepyrexlapis)
Fandoms I Write For
Genshin Impact
Danganronpa
My Hero Academia
Attack on Titan
The Arcana (game)
Sk8 the Infinity
Bungo Stray Dogs
Obey Me (although Iâm not caught up fully so be kind lol)
Request Guidelines & Boundaries
I am completely open to writing most anything, so letâs start with that!
I will write:
Character x Character (rare pairs included. See below for exclusions)
Character x Reader (Traveller!Reader and Not-Traveller-Reader)
Fluff, Smut, and Angst are on the able, see below for exclusions)
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For my own safety, there are things I can write about but may not feel comfortable with all the time/depending on the situation.
This includes:
Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation (action or mention)
Self Harm (action or mention)
Eating Disorders (action or mention)
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I will not write EVER:
Rape/Non-Con (and even Consensual Non-Con)
Incestuous ships (that includes Kaeluc, they were raised as brothers)
Anything involving the child characters as anything but parental/familial
Smut including the age ambiguous characters. Not that I donât think they do them things, Iâm just not comfy writing it.
Fun Facts ig?
Iâve been playing Genshin for at least a year now? Probably? Idk, anyways. Iâm at AR 57, have all of the available 4-Star characters, and I have all of the available 5-Stars except for Klee, Kazuha, and Shenhe. Hopefully, the only remaining one will be Shenhe until her rerun, as I'm so happy Klee and Kazuha are back! My wallet however...
I was not allowed to have a personality of my own as a child so I borrow it from fictional characters. That being said, my kin list is long and every growing as I watch and experience more things. For now, just know my top 5 of all time, in order as of today, is Childe, Reki, Deku, Eren, and Dazai... yeah no I'm not okay lmao
I actually share a birthday with Childe!! I call him the birthday stealer because of this, which made the #1 kin problem even worse.
Thatâs it, I think!
Thank you for stopping by! Go ahead and send requests in if you have them already! I hope youâre all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night/day wherever you may be in this world.
I love how we all collectively decided that in Teyvat they use âarchonsâ how we would say âgodâ when cursing or in outbursts. Itâs funny to me that we just went âyep, that tracksâ
I've you've never met me before, hi! I'm Riv, they/them, and on the 20th of July I will be turning 25... and with my health declining, I wanted to do something that's still fun but doesn't require copious amounts of planning and/or moving. I'm also hoping to hit maybe 50-100 followers by said date, but obviously no pressure.
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I have decided that to make this a happier lead up than those of previous years, I would like to open up a request event to get me back into something I adore, which is writing.
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Please check my pinned post (linked here) for the list of fandoms I write for, as well as boundaries in regards to the contents of what I write before sending in a request. Anything not respecting these guidelines will simply be deleted.
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ONTO THE ACTUAL IMPORTANT PART!!
I have always l o v e d the idea of handwritten letters as gifts, as they feel so personal and make me warm and fuzzy inside.
SO!! Here's how requesting will work! Send the character/ship of your choice with one of the following scenarios, and I will post the handwritten letter as a response! Do note that my calligraphy style is messy, I'm still learning but that can be handled later.
PROMPTS: (if it's a ship (platonic or romantice, specify who is writing
On Your Birthday,
Missing You Is...
I Just Remembered...
Why Do I Love You? Well,
Three Words I Want the Courage to Say Aloud
You Have Made Me Better...
My Companion, I Must Ask You...
My Princess/Prince/Royal...
If I Could Tell You...
Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder...
A Poem for You,
May I Tell You a Secret?
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Thank you so much for the love on my current wips and already finished works! I promise there will be more soon! I hope you enjoy this event as much as I will!
So I wanted to say that Iâm sorry for not posting lately, not getting to the singular request in my ask box. Iâm not in the best mental headspace right now, and while that *should* make To Write a Book easier to update, this next chapter requires brain power I just donât have.
A lot has been happening, but I will try and get things out soon, I promise. Please just be patient with me as I navigate this mess that it life.
However if you do want to leave requests, please check out my pinned post and send them my way! Perhaps itâll help with motivation and what not.
~summary: it was his fault things turned out this way... he deserved nothing and he knew it... and yet~
~link to AO3~
~To Write a Book Masterlist~
There are three places Kaeya loved growing up. One was obviously the Ragnvindr mansion, another was the winery grounds, and the last was the city of Mondstat itself, specifically the Cathedral.
Coming from a world of ash and darkness with no deity to answer to, the idea of an Archon listening to his subjects while never forcing them to do anything sounded preposterous. Before he ever left his homeland, his father talked about the Archons with a glare that could kill and a snarl in his voice. They killed countless people, they cursed the remaining to live eternally as mindless beasts, all because they chose to follow their own ambitions regardless of the whims of Celestia. They had no Archon, why should they abide by their rules?
The first time he walked in for mass, he was terrified heâd be struck down the moment he step foot in the large nave, but none of that came to pass. He sat down with his father, older brother, and their best friend Jean Gunnhildr, listening to the Word of the Anemo Archon and praying alongside the speaker and the nuns. The way they spoke about this god was mind-boggling to young Kaeya. He had set them free from a tyrant that ruled their nation with an iron fist, then aided in the overthrowing of the Lawrence clanâs dictatorship. It was never mentioned that the God of the Wind helped destroy a nation, killing indiscriminately so long as you hailed from Khaenriâah you were to be killed.
They passed around a small packet of dandelion seeds to each person, and Kaeya held his sachet in his little hands, both in reverence and in awe. He could really send his message to the Archon by whispering into the winds? It was then that he decided he would ask what had been on his mind the entire service.
Why did you kill my family?
And with that, he and all of their dandelion seeds were blown away by a gust of wind, which surprised everyone. There were few times when the Archon answered directly, and most of these incidents were done in front of the entire congregation. A soft, kind, and playful voice was heard through the rush of air.
âMy dear boy, I had no choice, just as you donât have a choice either.â
Not a single person could identify who exactly he was speaking to. Kaeya was a master at his craft, keeping his tears to himself, but he knew it was directed at him. He didnât have a choice, to revive his homeland he would have to betray the people he held close to him. He put on a baffled, shocked face to match everyone elseâs to keep up his appearance.
âMay the Anemo Archon Barbatos protect you.â a nun called at the end of mass.
âWhere the wind leads, we follow.â replied the rest of the congregation. The dismissal was finalized by the ringing of bells at the top of the building. He followed Diluc and Crepus out of the building, being stopped by several friends who were excited to finally show up for church. He had never voiced to anyone but Crepus why he was afraid to go, but everyone in Mondstat wanted him to feel welcome and comfortable more than forced to do something he didnât want to.
All of that, and the many years to follow, is what led him here. He stood atop the bell tower of the cathedral, looking down at the city below him. He could hear laughter and children playing, people buying and selling wares, sharing secrets and striking up conversations, and a green-clad bard singing in front of the large statue in front of the church, the one made in his own likeness. A grim smile appeared on his face, reminiscing that moment so many years ago. It wasnât hard to figure out he was the Archon who revealed his intentions in that service, and he treated the Captain no differently than the rest of the city. It made him want to laugh and sob at the same time.
Barbatos had been right, Kaeya had no choice. He would have to fulfill his duty or be struck down by Celestia for his ancestor's crimes, that was the way it had to be. He was tired of having to choose, so after he had been monitored for two weeks by the young deaconess after his previous stunt, he looked for other methods that he could easily cover up should things go awry.
So with one deep breath, leaving his vision on the roof of the church he grew up in, he jumped. The wind truly had never felt so freeing before, eyes closing to enjoy the world approaching him and taking away the burden he had to carry. And just as he assumed he would hit the ground, a gust of wind and two small arms wrapped around his waist.
âChild of the wind, I know you seek freedom but I can assure you this isnât the way.â that familiar voice whispered softly, bringing them to sit on the roof of his own church.
Kaeya could do nothing but sob, angrily wiping the tears from his eyes as he was soothed by his drinking buddy who was so much more.
âI donât want to have to choose. I donât belong here, and I donât belong there either. I donât want to be alive anymore⊠why will no one give me the relief I need?â he replied.
Venti stirred, moving to look at the Captainâs face. Gently, he reached up and untied the eyepatchâs strings, letting the golden iris catch the light of the setting sun. He placed his hand on his cheek gently, wiping away more tears that flooded the otherâs eyes.
âKaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, you do belong here. The people and the wind have accepted you as one of our own. You would leave a hole in this world if you were no longer a part of it. You will find your reprieve one day, I am most certain of that.â
The bard wasnât speaking in rhymes, and he sounded as old as truly was, having seen centuries of this nation both flourish and suffer. All the man could do at that point was pull the god into a hug, crying and cursing him for caring. Eventually, he mustered up strength to answer.
âCrepus is dead and Diluc hates me. No one else knows who I truly am anymore. And itâs not a mask I can allow to slip, Barbatos. I canât just be honest, I made this persona to protect myself and everyone else from that. I can never know peace, I will never know peace.â
The wind spirit sighed, arms tightening around his cherished child as he replied simply.
âYou are loved, Kaeya, and you will find peace, whether it be here or somewhere else in Teyvat. But you will not find it in death, believe me when I say Iâve tried.â
The revelation had the Captain sitting back up to look into Ventiâs eyes, but they were no longer the ones he knew. He stared in awe at the wings that had sprouted from his back, the anemo sigil tattooed onto his porcelain skin to contrast the white of his garments. He was now talking to Barbatos.
âI know it feels like there are no other options, and I know you will keep trying⊠but please know that youâre never truly alone in your pain. If you ever need someone Iâm here for you, as both a friend and an archon. You are a child of the wind, and letting them suffer in silence is something I cannot sit back and idly watch.â
The god wrapped both his arms and wings around the boy, the child he answered that day and the man he grew up to be held close to his heart. Kaeya could only hold on tighter while the floodgate opened, every tear leaving his body until his body was too exhausted to keep fighting. The archon smiled softly, petting Kaeyaâs hair for a little bit longer until he whisked them both away.
When the Captain awoke the next day, he was in his small room at the Knights of Favonius HQ. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he sat himself up and stretched out his stiff limbs. It was only then that he noticed the gift on his side table.
Along with his eyepatch and vision, there was a vase of Cecelias and Calla Lilies with a note attached.
To my child of the Wind, our dearest Kaeya, will you refrain from your self-harm until these flowers die on their own? Hold out until they wither away, and know youâre never truly alone.
So he did, he complied with the wishes of both his friend and archon, attaching the note to his book along with an account of what happened, signed off with a failure written in red ink.
A/N: Yo it's actually a normal person hour wtf? It's 3pm and not 3am, so I'm kinda proud of myself! This one made me super emotional, as I threw in my experiences as a kid in church to a certain extent.
Anyways, please like and reblog as always! If you do reblog pls put your thoughts somewhere like the tags or something because I love feedback! And my inbox is also always open for feedback! My requests are currently open as well, just check the pinned post on my blog for info on my boundaries and whatnot.
~fandom: Genshin Impact~
~characters: Kaeya Alberich, Diluc Ragnvindr, (minor) Jean Gunnhildr, (minor) Barbara Gunnhildr, Narrator~
~genre: angst, hurt no comfort~
~tw: unsympathetic Diluc, panic attacks, self-harm, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt~
~summary: it was his fault things turned out this way... he deserved nothing and he knew it... and yet~
~link to AO3~
~To Write a Book Masterlist~
Surely, this one doesnât quite make sense, right? Bleeding out usually occurs when engaged in combat, being stabbed through the stomach or having your throat slit wide open. Alberich knew this was a fail, so why try again but phrase it differently?
Easy.
We all have our vices, and while the Captain was known for his habit of drinking at the tavern almost every night, one addiction is similar to a waypoint into another addiction. The location of this waypoint? Self-inflicted wounds small enough to be concealed under his eccentric choices in fashion. It originally started as another coping mechanism, a way to feel some sort of control in his life, but as always with Kaeya, it got dangerous rather quickly.
His body is littered with scars, both big and small. Horizontal slashes on his wrists and thighs, words engraved into the flesh of his stomach, especially on a scar he never let anyone see. A burn mark is probably a better descriptor for it, a long, ugly burn from his left hip to his right shoulder. He wrote what that scar made him feel with his own flesh, tearing once again despite the original being long healed. When the sting of the first word left, heâd write another, and then another, until he felt himself nearing a fainting spell. This was when it turned south.
If he couldnât get someone else to carry out his wish of freedom, he would have to do it himself. Truly, he believed far too much in the common saying âif you want it done right, you do it yourself,â and this mindset gave him the second-worst day of his pathetic existence.
It had been a very busy shift, as a Captain he had knights to lead, papers to be filled out, and many duties that had left him exhausted. But he still wanted to maintain appearances, so he made his way to Angelâs Share for a Death After Noon to numb the weariness flowing through his veins. A big mistake, looking back on it.
Diluc was the one bartending that evening. Usually, heâd be glad to see him, teasing him to fill the void of never communicating outside of the context of patron and bartender. But today was Master Crepusâ birthday, a day he would have assumed Diluc would take a break for, at least once. The dread that filled his gut the moment their eyes met only worsened when he immediately turned around and began to leave.
âCaptain Kaeya! Where are you going?â some knight shouted from within the tavern. He had been spotted, excellent, just what he needed right now. He mustered up all the energy he had left to turn around and give them his stunning, all-too-perfect smile.
âJust remembered I left something at Ordo. Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.â he replied before bowing his head and ducking out, letting the door slam shut behind him.
Kaeya barely made it to one of the alleys before crumpling, his exhaustion forcing him onto the ground while tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He couldnât cry here. He couldnât. With the chance that someone might see him as anything less than he wanted them to see. The perfect Captain with a reputation of getting everything he wants, never truly showing the full extent of his emotions. But Kaeya is still a man, still human. The walls heâd built and maintained for years crumbled to dust in a matter of seconds.
He could hear the screams and pleas from the people of his nation ringing through his head as he mourned the man that showed him that he didnât have to listen to them, that he had just been a boy, and the weight of a dead nation isnât his to bear.
Crepus knew. Kaeya had told him once after a nightmare startled him so badly he screamed out in pain. Physical or emotional pain, he couldnât tell. He just wanted to be free from the life that had been chosen for him. The man rushed into the room, having still been awake, and held Kaeya until he was ready to talk.
Wow, was he ever terrified. This man had taken him in with no questions, and now he had to explain why these dreams plagued him every night without fail. He expected to be thrown out, fed to the wolves, killed on the spot even, but instead Crepus hugged him. The man held him
tightly and apologized. It was baffling to the poor boy, why was his father apologizing when he was the bad guy?
âYou are so brave, my boy. Iâm so sorry you had to go through that alone all this time. You are still so young, I canât imagine how hard this must have been.â heâd said. âThank you for telling me. Mondstat has welcomed you with open arms, Kaeya. You do not need to bear the sins of other people, their mistakes are not your own to atone. You are safe here, I promise. I wonât let anything like that happen so long as I live.â
Kind of funny, considering the man was now long dead and Kaeya still carried the burdens of his ancestors. So sitting in an alleyway in the city he was supposed to betray, he sobbed openly. The day had been too much, and adding seeing his bro- Master Diluc on their- Master Crepusâ birthday was overwhelming. He began pulling at his hair, scratching any patch of skin he could find until it bled. Kaeya took his eyepatch and threw it again the cityâs wall, rubbing at his eyes as the tears just would not stop flowing. He was lost in his grief, his regret, his pain that he didnât hear someone approach him.
âSir Kaeya.â
Instantly, the Captain looked up to see his bro- Master Diluc glaring at him from the end of the alley. The fury in his eyes burned so brightly he almost appeared to be on fire.
âM-master Diluc, what a surprise!â came the reply, plastering on a smile and reaching for his patch.
He brought himself to his feet far too quickly, losing his balance slightly as the rush of blood darkened his vision as it flooded his brain. But he quickly took control of his limbs once more, securing his eye patch and walking past the fuming redhead.
As soon as the two were side by side, Kaeya heard something that changed him forever.
âDo not mourn a man who you were going to betray. Youâre a smear on my fatherâs legacy, you donât have the right to miss him.â
âDuly noted, thank you.â
Kaeya was out of there before Diluc could say anything further. He made it to his small apartment and immediately locked his door. The man had been hanging onto a thread and with those words it had snapped entirely.
He made it to his small chair before crashing completely, sobs wracking his body as he materialized a blade made from ice. This was it. He would finally be free.
One
Two
Three
âŠ
âŠ
âŠ
Ninety-Seven
Ninety-Eight
Ninety-Nine
One hundred, blade dragged vertically along the major vein in his left arm.
Kaeya felt dizzier than his experience in the alley, his breathing slowing and a smile forming on his face. Maybe this would be enough for him to be forgiven.
There was not a single patch of skin left on him that didnât have some type of open wound. Cuts, stabs, knicks, all to rid him of the weight on his shoulders. He truly felt like he was flying, no longer weighed down by expectations on both sides of his mental war. He wouldnât have to betray Mondstat, he wouldnât have to listen to the screams of Khaenriâah begging him to complete his mission and save them from their eternal agony. He could be free.
The door to his home burst open as Kaeyaâs vision went black, succumbing to the loss of blood and the euphoria of being free at last. Waking to see the Cathedral was not part of the plan, but Celestia really just has it out for him.
âSir Kaeya?â a voice spoke beside him.
It was the Deaconess, Barbara, Jeanâs little sister.
âWh- what happened?â he asked, trying to sit up.
Hands placed on his shoulders pushed him back onto the hospital bed, gentle but firm.â
âWe were asked to check on you, and found you bleeding to death.â said another voice, wavering slightly.
Jean, the Acting Grandmaster, the Dandelion Knight, his friendâŠ
âKaeya⊠why?â
Letâs just say that not a word he said was the full truth, noted down in his book as a âcritical failureâ in red ink. Seven hundred and thirty-five tally marks on a single page pushed to the very edge of the parchment.
A/N: Okay, so I posted this one on ao3 a while ago and forgot to cross post it soooo here is this? working on chapter three had to take a backseat due to me finally moving to my new place. But I'm in, sorta set up, and have enough self hatred to take it out on my dearest Kaeya with.
I will be doing the smut request in my inbox, if you're still reading this requester. I am simply struggling with how to write it. Like the awkward human being I am, I have little to no experience with this but I will get it done.
Anyways, please like and reblog as always! If you do reblog pls put your thoughts somewhere like the tags or something because I love feedback! And my inbox is also always open for feedback! My requests are currently open as well, just check the pinned post on my blog for info on my boundaries and whatnot.
~summary: One of Sucroseâs friends moved away, and was never heard from again⊠she was dejected, sure, but she had Mister Albedo and the Knights now, right?~
~link to AO3~
~A/N: Hi hi hi!!! So a friend of mine has this theory that Thoma is one of Sucroseâs old friends and so Iâm writing the reunion fic we will probably never have in canon. They really liked it so i hope you do too!
The traveller did it. How? Who actually knows at this point? Theyâve defeated gods and save entire nations, so it was both a surprise and not a surprise at all to learn that the Shogun was finally repealing the Sakoku Decree, the one restricting any and all change to enter or leave Inazuma.
To put it lightly, Thoma was very excited. He hadnât seen his homeland in years, and with the Travellerâs help he could finally return to the place his heart still called home. Of course, that wasnât without Lord Kamisato literally forcing him to take a vacation to get him to make the trip. The Yashiro Commission wouldnât completely collapse the moment he stepped out of Inazumaâs borders, or so Ayaka reassured him. He wasnât fully convinced, but the longing for his friends grew stronger, and since the Traveller knew them it would be easier to reach out again.
The instant the boat had docked in Liyue, Lumine was basically dragging Thoma by the arm to the nearest waypoint. He could see the respect this nation had for her based on the smiles across their faces and a few friends stopping them to say hi for a moment. They knew Lumine had been excited for a long time, knowing how much Thoma missed the place he used to know like the back of his hand, so they didnât keep the two of them along.
In one moment they were passing by several food stalls in Liyue, and the next Thoma opened his eyes to the city of freedom. Lumine had simply giggled as tears started to form in his eyes without noticing it himself, wiping away the droplets with her sleeves.
âItâs become so much more than I remembered it to be.â he had said fondly, chuckling at his swept up emotions.
âWelcome home, Thoma.â was her reply, short and still sweet. Now he noticed the tears, pulling Lumine into a massive hug.
âI⊠donât believe my eye. Is that Thoma, Honorary Knight?â a voice came from behind the two.
The two pulled apart to find one Kaeya Alberich looking at them with wide eyes.
âKaeya? Is that you?â he asked dumbly, of course it was Kaeya. And yet not at the exact same time.
âMondstatâs very own Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonius.â The traveller giggled beside him.
âWait, Captain?!?! What happened to the shy, couldnât look a pretty boy in the eyes Kaeya?â Thoma laughed, taking in his now grown friendâs appearance.
âLetâs just say he made some poor choices, but I made it out like I always do. Come here, rascal.â Kaeya had laughed, beyond giddy as he nearly dragged the other into an embrace.
Thoma was beyond ecstatic as he hugged his friend for the first time in far too long.
âWe all heard about the crash and assumed the worst⊠but here you are! House husband for the Kamisato Clan all this time.â the darker man teased, pulling at Thomaâs cheeks.
âHouse husband?!?! Lumi what on earth have you said about me?â Thoma cried out incredulously.
âNothing, actually. I wanted this to be a surprise for your friends in Mondstat.â she laughed, noting a peculiar bard in the background.
The two nodded at each other, silently saying Thoma knew who he was. The confirmation had Venti jumping beside Kaeya, scaring the living shit out of him.
âWelcome home, child of the wind.â he said rather fondly. âMondstat has missed you more than you might imagine.â
Despite the initial confusion, when it clicked Thoma was almost reverent. âLord Barbatos, itâs an honour to meet you, what a greeting.â he grinned.
Lumine elbowed him gently, a reminder that he went by Venti now.
âI have heard your songs from all this way. I am glad you are able to reunite with loved ones. I hope we meet again soon! Perhaps at Angelâs Share? Master Diluc is bartending and I enjoy riling him up.â the short man giggled.
âWait⊠heâs not a knight? That was his biggest ambitionâŠâ he turned to Kaeya, who visibly paled.
âThe Knights failed to protect someone who gave over their life for Mondstatâs protection, so I left.â another voice interrupted.
Another dramatic spin occurred, letting Thoma take in the sight of Diluc. His heart was beating outside of his chest, years of pent up regrets and longing prevented him from refraining to act on one of the wishes he had prayed to Barbatos for. Thoma basically sprinted to the redhead, almost sending them both tumbling down the stairs that led to the tavern with a bone crushing hug
âWelcome home, Thoma.â Diluc whispered, holding onto the other as tightly as possible. âI am so glad youâre alive⊠and that youâre still here.â
the vulnerability in the manâs voice was faint, but Thoma knew them like the back of his hand. He discreetly placed a kiss under Dilucâs jaw, a promise of something more to come later.
With a cough, Kaeya interrupted the sweet moment. âI will let Acting Grandmaster Jean that youâre here. Iâm sure sheâs be delighted to see you.â
âJean is the Acting Grandmaster?!?! You guys⊠I am so proud of you! Look at what youâve accomplished!â Thomas just fucking beamed, looking at the faces, both new and old, that weâre overjoyed to see him within the cityâs walls once more.
Diluc was about to comment when a crashing sound came from below the balcony where they stood.
âThoma?â could just barely be heard by the alchemy station.
With absolutely no hesitation, Thoma lept over the fencing to meet the owner of the voice.
âSucroseâŠâ he smiled somehow even wider than before.
It took all of two second for Sucrose to embrace their long lost friend, tears already falling from her eyes.
âYouâre alive. Youâre okay. This isnât a dream?â They whispered, for any higher in volume would be incomprehensible.
âSucrose, sugar⊠oh Iâm so sorry.â Thoma replied, just holding her tightly. âI tried to send letters, but the Sakoku Decree happened and I couldnât get anything through.â he rambled, only to be shushed by his friend.
âDonât you apologize. Please. Iâm just so happy youâre alive and I get to see you again.â she replied, curling right into his chest.
The man was full on crying now, rubbing the alchemistâs ears to hear her purrs, to make sure it was real. Without hesitation Sucrose was purring loudly, still clinging to Thoma like her life depended on it, as if he would disappear if they let go.
âArchons, Iâve missed you all.â the man spoke softly, noticing the gathering crowd around them with massive smiles on their faces. The others from before had joined them as well, just so genuinely happy to see someone they thought to be long dead.
Lumine had mentioned the passing of Master Crepus and what she knew of that night, so he knew better than to ask. For now, he was content, embracing his best friend and slitting a very flushed but loving gaze from a certain Wine Tycoon.
He would definitely owe the traveller a meal or something of that kind, for gifting him with the only thing heâd ever wished for.
âWelcome home, Thoma.â Sucrose whispered.
All was right in the world. He could die a very happy man, wait no scratch that, he still has to tell Diluc his feelings, and by the reaction he got, he was almost 100% certain meant it was reciprocated.
He had finally made it home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, consider leaving a like and reblogging!!!
~summary: the incident that created the book, and how he tried but failed every single time.
~link to AO3~
~To Write a Book Masterlist~
It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a time to celebrate, an achievement based on how many times you've rotated around the sun that was taken for granted all too often. Diluc was now 18, the youngest Calvalry Captain in the history of the Knights of Favonius, and his father was now dying in his arms. Kaeya's older brother watched as his visionless father defeated a monster that easily tossed him aside with an unknown power, at least at the time, and then had to grant his only living family member a merciful death, swift and less painful than what the Delusion had put him through. One of the best days of his life turned into a nightmare, and it was only about to get worse.
Kaeya had grown to love Master Crepus like a father, one far more kind and loving than the one that had dropped him at the wine tycoon's door with the reminder that he was the last hope for a fallen nation. The fate of Khaenri'ah rested on his shoulders, carrying a secret and a burden as if he were Atlas carrying the world on his back. And now, that man is gone. The one that took him in with a kind smile, the one that gave him shelter and food, played with him and helped him come out of his shell, dried the tears he shed when he woke from nightmares and held onto him as a reminder that no matter what, he had his dad.
His dad...
Master Crepus had taught him the distinction between a father and a dad, and now he had neither. He was shaking, unable to process what had occurred, and for the first time in several years felt a terror that resonated deeply in his tainted soul. When one is afraid, when one cannot process something horrible, can't think properly or rationally, one says things that they wouldn't otherwise. Kaeya had lost everything that made him feel like he was worthy of love, that he was loved... so he told his brother his truth. The ugly, terrifying, life-ruining truth that he could only hope would spark the reaction he wanted from Diluc. He didn't want to choose anymore. He didn't want to damn his homeland, but couldn't bring himself to betray the family and nation that had welcomed him with open arms and minimal questions. So while he had drawn his sword to defend himself as he was attacked with a burning rage, he was grateful that it was kicked from his hands, sent flying to archons knows where.
Diluc was going to kill him. The flames that lit up his weapon as the accumulation of fury became an actual fire terrified him, but this was the only way he could truly be free. He closed his eyes, tilted his head low to hide the smile on his face as his freedom drew nearer. His existence would be over, he wouldn't have to choose, and he would have died at the hands of the only person he had left. But fate, a fickle thing, had other plans, as the cryo vision came into his possession and managed to save him from the death he so desperately wanted. How cruel, he thought, but what better punishment for a sinner than to be denied release from mortal chains? To be banished from the one place he was able to call home? As he ran for Mondstat, he cursed every god that existed in this world that forced him to not only live but to break... no, shatter the trust of the only person he had left... who he truly no longer had at all.
Kaeya was alone. Broken, alone, and unfortunately alive. He would still have to choose one day... unless he could find a way to end his life another way.
Meaning that this was not the last time he tried this method, of trying to make his death appear to be at the hands of another so the guilt of taking his life wasn't so heavy. Every single mission he took as a Knight meant he had a chance to die, a chance to not move out of the way in time, or to "not see" an attack coming his way despite his acute sense and knowledge that his release was seconds away. But as fate would allow it, he was saved every time. Someone had blocked the nearly fatal blow, telling him off and receiving a sheepish "sorry" in reply, or the enemy was distracted by something or someone else, drawing them away from their prey that was tired of running away.
He had changed his whole outward demeanour, from the shy young man that hid in his brother's shadow to the confident, cocky, and arrogant bastard that used his charm for information. Information that, if he managed to anger the person sharing, he would very willingly die over. He danced with death every time he spoke to a foreign diplomat, a tango with treasure hoarders, a waltz with the Fatui, even a salsa with the common folk, but each time he, unfortunately, got what he "wanted," the information. Not once was he swept off of his feet and lifted into the air, feeling the world disappear as his dance partner took him far away from it. He wore that mask so well that he failed to accomplish his goal of letting someone else do the dirty work for him. And once that mask was on, he was unable, and a little unwilling, to take it off.Â
He took the riskiest commissions, was the first to volunteer when a mission could be deadly, and most commended what they saw as his bravery, unaware of his wish... no, his need to cease living altogether. This only really got worse after Diluc returned to Mondstat after his four years away. Any time he even caught sight of that fiery red hair he asked the Grandmaster if there were any missions or tasks that needed to be done, ones that no one would take because of how unlikely it was to survive them. Every single time he made it out relatively unscathed. He hated that he was good at what he was trained to do. The moment he found himself lost in battle, his instincts forcing him to keep fighting when he wanted to let the enemy take his life, it was over. Barely a bruise or scrape to show for it.Â
More often than not, he wondered what he had done that was so horrible to not even be allowed to be killed? Why was he denied peace and sanctuary from a world that kept him in limbo between life and death? He wanted the latter more than anything Teyvat could offer, but it was never granted to him.Â
After so many attempts, most of them proving his perceived worthiness of knighthood, he shelved the idea of someone else taking his life for him. The paper that had over 200 strikes, tallies of times he tried to go out without causing anyone grief due to his slowly worsening depression, became the first page of his book. At the top he wrote "Be Slain By Another," and at the bottom in bright red ink read "mission failed."Â
A/N: Here we go man... why is it always when it's like 4am that I'm motivated enough to write? Like damn Riv tf you doing? I know you can't sleep but bestie wtf...
Anyways, please like and reblog as always! If you do reblog pls put your thoughts somewhere like the tags or something because I love feedback! And my inbox is also always open for feedback! My requests are currently open as well, just check the pinned post on my blog for info on my boundaries and whatnot.
~Riv xx
~summary: When one sits down to write a book, most have a goal in mind, be it to inspire, to teach, to inform, to image, to dream, to encourage⊠many things can come from writing a book, fiction or non fiction. As such, most people also want others to read their work, to appreciate it or help improve it.
When Kaeya Alberich sits down to write a book, it has a much darker intent, and he prays it never falls into anyoneâs hands but his own.~
~link to AO3~
~To Write a Book Masterlist~
When most sit down with an idea to write, be it fiction or nonfiction, it was to put an idea out into the world with a goal in mind. The textbooks that line the Knights of Favonius library explored alchemy, biology, chemistry, intent on teaching you the subject matter to be put to practical use. The childrenâs books depict fairy tales or stories that taught the reader an important lesson through perseverance and the power of friendship. The novels for older audiences provide a distraction from life and allow you to escape to another world, and if theyâre a special kind of novel, they can bring you intense feelings and nights of pure pleasure, if you catch my drift.
Wait no, thatâs not the point. When Kaeya sits down to write, his intent is far darker and downright cruel, to some at least. In the bottom right drawer of the desk in the knightâs home is a growing handmade book, each entry written in by himself like personal notes taken from observing or conducting experiments. Kaeya was no Albedo, he doesnât care for the tedious work that science requires. So what would be in this book? Is it a diary? Is it someone elseâs diary? Perhaps just a book he has yet to return to Lisa and I lied about it being handmade? One of those spicy books I mentioned before?
No, to all of the above. Itâs title and author will make it plainly obvious, so I might as well just share it.
â100 Ways to End Your Life by Kaeya Alberich.â
If youâre shocked, you shouldnât be, and if you arenât shocked, then Iâm sure you already know. Kaeya is a broken man. There is no questioning that, not since he was dropped off at a doorstep in the pouring rain and left with a soul crushing secret to carry on his tiny shoulders. Living out a normal childhood with a brother and a father that loved him dearly was the tip of the iceberg that was Kaeya Alberich. But itâs too soon to delve into that, is it not? The title is a bit crude, mind you, but the contents make the blunt name on the cover feel fitting. There is not a letter of sugarcoating in there, no romantic poetry, no meaningful analogies. It reads whatâs on the tin, and thatâs why it can never be found.
When his life fell apart by his own doing, granted he never wanted it to fall apart, but crazy things happen when youâre afraid, he created the book for the times he wished he had never received his vision and let his brother finally be the one to free him from his shackles to both worlds⊠both lives.
The book began right after Diluc took off on his four year âexpedition,â when Kaeya could barely grasp he was still alive. He had massive burns from the fateful night, namely across his chest and on his hands, and had to learn how to use them again due to how badly they had been injured. Really, he wished he didnât have to use them ever again at all, but fate had chosen something more cruel than death. One of his recovery exercises was to write, and write he did.
I present to you the collection Kaeya came up with, along with the stories that accompany their reasoning. All 100 ways the broken man found to end his suffering. At whose hands? Time will tell, I assure you. As for myself? Well, all things come with mystery, but I will reveal what is necessary when the opportunity arises, or rather⊠when it fits.
Dear reader, I do not know what you go through. I do not live your life, and you do not live mine. I know not where you live, what you do, perhaps what vision you may hold, or who you are. But I would like you to know that I see you. You are not alone in your fight, and neither was Kaeya. I implore you to reach out to someone who can help, should these tales hit too close to home or stir up thoughts of your own. Your life is worth living, and you are worth fighting for. If these things are true for a sinner such as Kaeya Alberich, they are true for you, too.
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A/N: Oooh boy, why tf did I decide my first actual series would be a) Kaeya angst, b) require me to make the list itself, and c) require at least more than 10 chapters? I know I hate myself bc I kin this man, but like WOW itâs bad.
Anyways, please like and reblog as always! If you do reblog pls put your thoughts somewhere like the tags or something because I love feedback! And my inbox is also always open for feedback! My requests are currently open as well, just check the pinned post on my blog for info on my boundaries and whatnot.
I hope youâre looking forward to this as much as I am dreading exposing myself.
If you asked them, the first thing out of their mouth would be âOf course not! I still have so much I havenât done yet!â With a tone an expression so rehearsed it looked real, and fooled anyone who dared to ask. There was truth to it, of course. There were many things they wanted to do in their years of life, however short or long that may be. Exploring the entirety of Teyvat, experiencing cultures they could never have dreamed of prior to the blessing that quite literally fell from the sky, making (mostly) genuine connections, the list was endless. But how does one fit this list with the question they all but prayed not to be asked?
âAre you trying to kill yourself?!?!â
Life is forever uncertain, but most can expect their lives to go on until old age allows them to slip away peacefully in their sleep. Not everyone puts themselves in danger to feel something other than the never ending hatred for their own existence. Not everyone letâs the lies flow so easily past their lips that even they start to question their true feelings and motivations. Not everyone skips meals because the thought of starvation satiates the urge to take their blade to their own skin. The question always came with frustration or great worry, sometimes even both. But this was basically routine at this point, all they had to do was smile, give a semi valid reason and hope no one caught on. And it worked for a while!
A lot of people suffer, and most do so while still smiling, still trying to fight for some control to bring about a stability they lack. And if they canât keep fighting, they seek help, as they should. But itâs different with them. For other people, they were treating themselves with the respect and compassion they deserved. With themself? Itâs a sign of weakness, and they were not weak. They refused to be weak, and refused to burden anyone else with their struggles. Everyone has their own issues to deal with, bigger fish to fry, sharing thoughts that went through their mind at least a dozen times on a daily basis only made the load everyone else carried even heavier.
However, that begs the question⊠what happens when the smiles continue past the initial pain? What happens when they canât even look at a particular person without having to plaster on a smile and put on an act in order to keep suspicions at bay? What does one do when one knows what could fix everything: changing the answer to the question from those who can see past the layers and layers of masks?
People that perceptive are rare, and yet here they were with one that, while they treasured their company and friendship, would not leave them alone. Alone enough to give in to the desperation for control and taking it by any means necessary. Alone enough to finally let down the mask after a long day of pretending they were fine, just a little tired. Alone enough to indulge in the one thing that made them feel something other than a deep rooted hatred for themself and the world theyâre forced to live in. This blessing from the sky was also a curse, being able to see masks on top of masks down to the first they ever donned, and holy shit it would be their undoing.
What if the true answer slipped past their tightly guarded filter one day? Instead of their usual smile and laughter, thanking them for worrying with false reassurances, they opened up and said âI wish I had died that day.â What if the mask slipped too far and everyone could see the dead man walking in front of them? Their eyes were shielded for a reason, their practiced expressions ensured no one would know that they would literally rather be six feet under than still pushing forwards as everyone expected of them.
The mere idea of being vulnerable like that shook them to the core. Everything and everyone would change. It would start with their loved ones saying that they were so very loved and deserved to stay, then the kind suggestion that getting help from a professional will make things easier, and lastly reassurances that their place in this world was not a mistake⊠all of these lies or misguided wishes piling up to crush them with the guilt of worrying the people they donât deserve but somehow still have. They would never be left alone, their weapons would be taken, and anything potentially harmful or lethal immediately removed and hidden because Archons be damned, they just wanted to die.
Then came the thought of the the pain from those they cherished would face once they were gone. Those that they wished would just let him go. But to no avail, the evident pain directed at their own pain only made them feel worse, wishing more and more that fate could strike them down so at least they didnât have to leave this world knowing they hurt the people that cared. Which hurt them, not that they would ever tell. The kids in their life wouldnât understand, would miss them so much, only be hurt again to learn they ended their life with their own hands once they were old enough. The friends and their lover would be crushed knowing they couldnât change the outcome, perhaps leading them down their own dark spiral into a place of no return.
Whatâs funny is, despite the fact others put them through this never ending cycle of wanting to die but too guilty to actually do it, they wouldnât wish this feeling on anyone else. Not their enemies, not those that had already turned on them, not even the gods that cursed their very existence⊠only themself. If they could bear it, then no one else would have to. So they had to hold on. They had to keep pushing so that no one else took on the pain that they not only endured, but chased after to perhaps free them from the chains binding them to this world.
Life is uncertain, but one thing they knew with every fibre of their being is that no matter how much youâre struggling, still fighting to protect those that donât deserve the constant torture, itâs really is too much for one person, and it broke them. They denied it until their last day, with the fatal blow being a revelation they had intentionally blinded themself from. They were weak. They tried so hard to be strong for those around them and it was a catastrophic failure. And so they caved. They made a choice, made every attempt to get those they loved to turn their backs on them and let the consequences of their actions be the blade that severed their ties with this body and life. That was what they hoped for, by betraying their trust so they could be at peace with their own demise, the release from mortal hell they desired so deeply. Surely if it was divine punishment for committing horrible deeds, it would at least give them closure and a sense of justice.
But it backfired, and everyone still cared, still trying to protect them despite their constant pleas for them to run away, to hate them so they could face his punishment, to stop caring so they could face retribution for what they did in a desperate attempt to kill themselves by the hands of another.
Not one of them did, and they watched them all, one by one, see past the carefully crafted masks and chose to help instead of condemn them. They picked up their weapon and told the heavens to be damned, Celestia was not taking them away so easily. Can you not see they are in pain? How they put on a smile so no one worries about them? How they bite their tongue, playing the role they were given only to be used, forgotten, and once again crushed with a feeling that they werenât worthy of their love and compassion? The heavens laughed in response, pushing them out of the way like the pawns they were on the massive chessboard called Teyvat. The arrogation of man defied the heavenly principles, and those that rebel must be dealt with, being captured and removed from the playing field.
So yes, someone did die that day, but their plan to be seen as another victory towards their goals failed miserably. Their death was not painless for those they tried so hard to push away, to help avoid their pain and grief. Instead, they were given a funeral of a warrior rather than a villain. Their face looked so at peace, dressed in expensive clothes as they lay there motionlessly. They looked happy, most people commented, finally being freed from a burden they should never have been forced to endure along. They watched people cry and laugh during a eulogy fit for royalty, full of old banter, confessions, and memories. They watched the love of their life slide a ring onto their left hand, one that they never got to truly reply to and reciprocate, remembering the ring in their own side table drawer. They watched the children grow and mature, watched their peers develop grey hairs, settle down, watched their beloved find love once again instead of succumbing to the temptation of seeing their partner, they watched the elderly pass away, ascending to Celestia where they deserved to be and greeted them into the afterlife with tears of joy and laughter carried by the winds.
In a way, they really donât regret what they did. They had no will to live, existing as an extension of someone elseâs will and taking on what others couldnât. Simply following what was expected so no one batted an eye or tried to look past layers of disguise. They very much regret that he hurt those they loved, but watching them grow and heal was the most merciful punishment for bringing about war and chaos. Reuniting with them when it was their time to ascend was a gift they still didnât believed they deserved, but sometimes the afterlife is kind.
Oh, I suppose I didnât specify the main character of our story, so I will leave that conclusion to you. He had friends, he had a family, he had a love that burned so bright despite his self perceived lack of worth, and he lost them all because he couldnât pretend for them anymore. I know that doesnât narrow it down at all. With that description, it could be several characters in the story of Teyvat, the Teyvat of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. But I know this resonates with one in particular for you, and Iâm sure you feel a connection to them somehow. So let me say this, while youâre still here.
You are loved, and yes, you are worthy of it. You are worthy because you are here. You are alive. The probability of you existing right here, right now, the way that you are is 1 in 10 Trillion. You are here by no mistake, and your life is priceless. As someone who wrote this as a vent, a way to expel my hatred for myself so that I didnât fall back on unhealthy coping mechanisms, you have intrinsic value that cannot be defined in simple terms. So feel free to read this story again and again, see yourself in the character youâve associated this with, and then show yourself the same kindness you would show them. You are worthy, you are deserving, and I am really proud of you for being here.
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A/N: Thank you for reading all the way through!!! Please leave any feedback you may have and consider a like and reblog if you enjoyed the story!!
I wanted to leave this completely open ended so that if youâre facing hard times and you see the reflection of a character within this story, I donât take away that validation and feeling of being seen and heard. I had two specifically in mind writing it, but thatâs because itâs who I relate to and allows me to express the message Iâm trying to convey. Whoever you placed in the narratorâs place while reading my silly little story is incredibly valid, no matter who it is.
My ask box is open for requests, please just check the pinned post on my blog before sending in an idea. I will be writing more, both requests and my own little whims, so let me know if a tag list is something you might be interested in!
I will stress this again, Iâm so damn proud youâre here. It is really fucking hard, and I see you. You are so strong, just donât forget you donât have to be strong alone. People love you and care about you, and yes, you deserve each and every one of them.
I am too tired to do it myself right now, but can someone write a fic Where reader has chronic illnesses/pain? Because I am really going through it right now and need comfort
Not that I won't do it, but my first request is smut and I just...
shit I wasn't expecting the horny that fast... i was hoping I could buy myself time but nOPE
All is well though... here goes.
