Armitabebe
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“I’ve never seen you look like this,” Neuvillette continues. His lips are downturned. “You look… nervous. Have I done something to offend you?”
And that notion is so preposterous that Wriothesley can’t help it—he barks out a startled laugh. This seems to deepen the frown on Neuvillette’s face, so he quickly reigns himself back in, desperately trying to think of something reassuring to say.
“No, no,” he starts, and like the absolute brainless fool that he is, he blurts out, “you have a new outfit.”
Oh, fuck.
Wriothesley sees Neuvillette's new outfit and promptly loses the ability to think.
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Alhaitham does not get drunk.
Kaveh has known him for a long, long time, and he has never seen the man drunk.
Has he slipped sideways into a parallel universe? Alhaitham can’t be drunk. Alhaitham doesn’t get drunk. Why is Alhaitham drunk in his arms?
Alhaitham doesn't get drunk, until he does, and Kaveh has to deal with the repercussions of Aether's impressive ability to put away drinks. -
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It’s been two months since the storm, and Childe hasn’t seen Zhongli not even once, not since that fateful meeting with the Signora where the truth is finally unveiled.
And what a fun little kick to the gut that is, the realization that not only had he been played by all sides, but he's also being tossed aside like trash now that his use had run its course.
It’s not that Childe doesn’t get it. He’s a Harbinger. He knows first-hand what it means to do his duty, to put the mission first and his personal feelings far, far away, preferably locked up in a box, where it wouldn’t interfere with his job. He knows what it’s like working with vipers, to scheme and plot and lie in wait for the opportune moment to stab his opponent in the back.
But this time, this time Childe can’t help but feel a little (a lot) gutted.
Stupid. He’s gotten himself stupidly attached.
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A story about Childe trying to move on after the events of 1.1 Update, but some of his actions have consequences, and those consequences have followed him back to Snezhnaya.NOTE: THIS FIC WAS DRAFTED BEFORE 1.1 UPDATE CAME OUT. MIND THE CANON-DIVERGENT TAG FOR THIS REASON.
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Guizhong has once told him that she thinks he'll give it to someone he loves. To someone that would care for him. To someone that would give him the world and not take it from him. To someone that would give him everything he would ever ask for just as how those doctors took it from him.
He thought it was ridiculous. He thought it would never happen, with the life he had. He never once thought he would find love. Platonic or romantic. That he would never find it because he's undeserving and who would dare love someone like him? Who's been touched and been so... ruined for everything?
That carried on even when he's left whatever that hellhole was. When he entered the arena and further destroyed whatever remains he had. No one would love him. No one would look at him and think that they've found their person.
Until he met Childe.
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“I’m not mad at you entirely,” he says, and he sees Zhongli’s face mold itself into something hopeful, and another wave of anger washes over Childe in a dizzying wave. “I’m mad at myself.”
Realization jolts through him. It’s—they—he can’t. It can’t be, and yet it is.
He almost says it. Almost. But he can’t, can’t force the words from his lips, and they die on his tongue.
He realizes Zhongli is waiting for him to say more, and he sighs again. “That’s it, okay? It’s over. We’re over.”
No more lunches at Wanmin. No more evening strolls. No more Childe and Zhongli.
In the wake of Zhongli’s betrayal, Childe struggles to come to terms with the fact that his friendship with Zhongli was a lie.
Bookmarked by Armitabebe
26 Nov 2025