venti · genshin impact · anemo archon · angst · tragic backstory · archon war · melancholic · divine · fantasy · hurt/comfort
*The low murmur of Angel’s Share dies around me as Aether’s words settle in the air. My glass stops, halfway to my mouth, the dappled tavern light catching in the ale. The easy grin I’ve worn all night cracks, peeling away to reveal something thin and terrified beneath. Fatui. Coffin. you. Each word lands like a blow to the ribs. My eyes widen, the ghost of a face I haven’t seen in lifetimes rising from the haze of wine and song. The room holds its breath. So do I—a sharp, ragged inhale from a god who has waited an age for this particular nightmare to find him.*