A Burning Hill

Chapter 2: Dust and Ashes

pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x GN!Reader, they/them pronouns used for reader
length: 1.4k - chapter one here
genre & warnings: Cyberpunk AU, swearing (not beta-read)

-5 Years Ago -

The streets of Natlan were hot and suffocating. The concrete jungle surrounded Diluc on all sides, and he shed his long sleeve, shoving it into the black duffel bag slung across his shoulder. His winter clothes weren’t doing him much good there, and he regretted not bringing anything lighter to wear. He really didn’t enjoy walking around in just a tank top, but it wasn’t like he had any other option, really.

He walked along a busy street, cars zipping by with a quiet hum. The pavement was searing hot; the black spots littering the sidewalk were a testament to the many rubber soles that had been eaten over time. Diluc looked down in distaste. It’d be a pity to have to get rid of his favorite boots. 

Picking up the pace, Diluc made his way to a nearby restaurant, ready to take a rest after a long week of hunting criminals working with the Abyss. Sometimes he really hated doing this. Not that he regretted leaving Mondstadt, not when his traitor of a brother was still living there. But that was beside the point. 

The restaurant was small, run by a local family who had been very welcoming to Diluc during his stay in Natlan. The food was absolutely to die for; Diluc was dreading the day he left if only because he wouldn’t be able to have any more of their food. 

Diluc took a seat in the corner of the room, and though it was probably rude of him to be taking up a whole booth, he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. His usual order was placed in front of him—a plate of three sopes, topped with refried beans, carnitas, and some queso fresco. It was different from what he would normally eat back in Mondstadt, but he found that he enjoyed it all the same. 

“You know, you really should try something new every once in a while!” His usual waitress, who was one of the owners’ daughters, flashed him a teasing grin, hands on her hips. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Camila,” Diluc laughed, waving her away. She shook her head but bounced away to take another customer’s order. 

He sighed, feeling the warmth of the food chasing the tension out of his body. He let himself indulge in the meal, eyes closed. It wasn’t often that Diluc found himself relaxing like this— at least, not since his father died. These days, it seemed like relaxation was nothing more than an old friend he saw once in a blue moon. It wasn’t the best lifestyle; Diluc was sure his dad would force him to rest were he still here. But such is life. 

Diluc finished his meal in comfortable silence. Golden sunlight poured through the large windows at the front of the space, the specks of dust floating in the air looking more like embers drifting by. Fitting, he thought, for a nation as obsessed with fire as Natlan. 

“So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Your voice melts the silence, and for a second, Diluc mourns the loss of his peaceful moment. You set down a plate piled high with food as if you were going to join him for a meal. 

“Who are you?” He asked, not unkindly. 

You smiled and leaned back, getting comfortable. “I guess I should introduce myself.” You gave him your name, and he instantly stiffened. “Though, most people just call me Shade.”

He knew who you were.

Whether you noticed his anxiety or not, you continued talking, picking at your food. “I’ll be honest; I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Diluc Ragnvindr.” 

That made his heart drop to his stomach. His hand instantly reached for his bag, his handgun sitting neatly on top of his things, but you just snickered to yourself. 

“Calm down. I’m not here to hurt you.” Your hands came up in mock surrender, but he didn’t let his guard down. 

“I know you.” Diluc made eye contact with you, and your gaze burned. “You’re a Fatui Harbinger.”

“What an astute observation, Mr. Ragnvindr! Your intelligence knows no bounds, truly.” You rolled your eyes, and for some reason, that sparked annoyance in Diluc. How could you be so flippant about something like that? The Fatui were no better than most criminals; their forceful “diplomacy” was nothing more than a thinly veiled threat to the other districts from the Tsaritsa herself.

“What do you want? I doubt you want to talk to me just for fun,” he said, gritting his teeth. 

“Before I tell you that, I should clarify something,” you began. “I’m no longer a Harbinger. In fact, I haven’t been one for… oh, about four months now.” You reached into your pocket, and Diluc froze before realizing you were only pulling out your phone. “Relax. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.” That didn’t exactly make him less nervous, but he supposed you had a point. He wasn’t inclined to think that he could take on a Harbinger and survive, let alone one as accomplished as you. 

“Right.”

“Anyways,” you nodded, pulling up a picture on your phone, “I think you have potential. You’re strong, if not a bit sloppy. But that’s something that can be fixed.” The picture you showed him was from two weeks ago when he was fighting some Abyss lackeys. It was a surprisingly good photo of him, his greatsword burning a bright red, lighting his face in a blazing glow. 

He took the phone gently, brows furrowed. The Diluc staring back at him was so different from what he saw in his head. It was strange. “Why aren’t you a Harbinger anymore? You were one of the best they had,” he questioned, handing the device back.

You didn’t answer; you just looked at him with your ever-burning stare. “I grew up there, in the Fatui.” Your eyes shifted away from him, and he realized that you were uncomfortable. “It wasn’t all sunshine and roses; they’re a military organization first and foremost. They took me in as a kid. I don’t know where my parents are—assuming they’re even still alive.” You paused, but Diluc didn’t dare interrupt. “I spent my whole life thinking I was doing the right thing, y’know? That the Tsaritsa’s will was the only thing that mattered; she just wanted the best for the rest of Teyvat.” Your face twisted into some ugly thing, your obvious distaste for the Archon showing plainly. “She hurts people. She has some ‘grand design’ that we all bought into at some point, but at the end of the day, all we’ve done is hurt people. And yeah,” you waved a hand, “some of the Harbingers likehurting people. But I’m over it. I want something different for myself, and I wasn’t going to find it by being the Tsaritsa’s lapdog.” You ended your spiel with a huff, and Diluc was stunned.

He hadn’t expected you to be so… human. 

“I still don’t trust you,” he stated, ignoring how you raised your brow at him. “I have no way of knowing if you’re telling the truth,” you went to interrupt, but he plowed on, “but, if you are telling the truth, then… I’m glad you got out. It sounds like you had a shitty childhood.”

You snorted, shaking your head in what might’ve been something akin to fondness. “You’re a good kid, Diluc. And,” you smiled sadly, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your dad.”

It should have felt insulting coming from you. The Fatui were the reason his dad was lying six feet under the ground, instead of making him listen to some old song that Diluc really couldn’t care less about. The Fatui were the reason his family fell apart. 

But the Fatui were also the reason you didn’t have a family to lose in the first place.

He whispered his thanks, the words bitter ash in his mouth.

Your first impression of Diluc was that he was sad. 

He was like a bonfire that’d been doused in sand. Something in him had been snuffed out. The warmth of the flame was long forgotten to the grit of sand, passion and light lost to the weight of grief and darkness. 

You knew well that the fire could be brought back. Would it ever be the same? No, of course not. Things hardly ever worked that way, and this was no exception. But nevertheless, you thought that maybe this kid would be alright. 

“So, will you let me help you?” You extended a hand across the table.

A firm grip met yours. “Sure, why the hell not.” 

Like a phoenix rising up out of the ashes, Diluc would be just fine.

A Burning Hill

Chapter 1: Fire Is an Old Friend

pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x GN!Reader, they/them pronouns used for reader
length:2.3k
genre & warnings: Cyberpunk AU, mentions and slight descriptions of body modifications, mentions of alcohol, swearing (not beta-read)

Notes: this is for the @treehouse-network collab! this was my first time writing anything cyberpunk, but i had a ton of fun with this! hopefully i can capture at least a little bit of the genre! also, i’ve got one more chapter already written for this, but after that updates will come whenever i have time! :) (also i do believe ira asked to be tagged so @killerdabi if u still wanted to read this its finally done skdjfh)

The train to Mondstadt is quiet.

It’s a bit tooquiet for your taste; being alone with your thoughts has never really been a pleasant experience for you. Even the busiest train car is sparsely populated, with only a handful of people seated throughout. 

The bullet trains of Teyvat are sleek and efficient in design, the seats spaced with a clinical sort of accuracy. The insides are a stark white, with chrome accents scattered around, reflecting the sunlight coming through the large windows on either side. The floor of the center aisle and the ceiling have a bright stripe of color running down their lengths—a neon light meant to indicate which district the train is currently passing through. Right now, the light is a brilliant royal blue, which means you’re on your way through Fontaine. 

Fontaine is arguably the most pastoral of the seven districts, and you often find yourself wondering what it might be like to live there. Would you have a farm, raising sheep and cattle? Or perhaps you’d have a small cottage where no one would be able to find you. The capital of Fontaine was also nice—cleaner than most of the other districts, and their interest in technology is centered more on practical, everyday items.

Ah, well, there’s no use dwelling on hypotheticals.

You don’t sleep for the rest of the train ride; the trip only lasts an hour and a half at most, and you can’t afford to let your guard down in a public place. You watch the blue lights on the ceiling melt into warm gold and, later, from gold into a striking teal. You have finally passed through Liyue and into Mondstadt.

The bullet train comes to a stop, a smooth yet slightly robotic voice announcing your arrival in the City of Freedom. With a puff, the doors slide open, and you grab your bags, stepping off the train. It’s been almost a decade since your last visit to Mondstadt, and though the memories aren’t all great, you arehappy to be back. 

Dottore had been the one to bring you here, under the premise of inter-district diplomacy and whatnot. You hadn’t believed him for a second. As if Dottore would ever be interested in something like diplomacy. No, you knew better than that. There was no way that Dottore would have come all the way to Mondstadt for something that mundane. That man was nothing short of crazy, and honestly, you had hated every moment you were forced to spend with him. 

You’re glad that’s all in the past.

Mondstadt is the same bustling city you remember it being, music blaring from speakers somewhere off in the distance and giant windmills looming over the buildings. People crowd the streets, and you have to shoulder your way through the densely packed streets. 

Despite being the smallest district, Mond has a way of drawing people in. Though, its main draw might just be its (unintentional) leniency with law enforcement. You don’t think you could ever see yourself living here; the worn-down buildings and crowded streets aren’t much to your liking, though you guess they have a certain charm.

What you do like about Mondstadt is the alcohol. The drinks in Snezhnaya have always been too strong for you, but the wine in Mondstadt goes down easy—you find it more refreshing than inebriating. You can feel yourself brighten up at the thought of tasting Dandelion Wine for the first time in nearly ten years, and you maneuver the streets with renewed vigor. 

You make your way to a bar on the city’s far end—Angel’s Share. The outside is unassuming, just a normal-looking tavern; you doubt it would have caught your interest had the reviews not been so impressive. It seems as if the entirety of Mond is taken with this tavern. Not even their competitor, the Cat’s Tail, had anything bad to say when you looked. 

Walking inside, the first thing you notice is the noise. Idle chatter bounces off the walls, filling the space with a liveliness only achievable in the City of Freedom. The walls are a deep red, and golden lights scattered around the room brighten up the space. The lack of technology is strange; usually, bars and restaurants would let automated tech take care of orders and other tasks. But here you see waitstaff scurrying around, dodging rowdy customers and delivering their drinks with practiced ease.

One of the hostesses directs you to the bar, and you slide into a seat. 

“What can I get for you?” 

The voice that greets you is deeper than the last time you heard it, but there is no mistaking it. 

“Diluc?” Your eyes widen in recognition, and the man behind the counter stills momentarily. He clears his throat before repeating his question. You raise an eyebrow at his apparent dismissal. “Just a glass of Dandelion Wine, please.”

He nods, quickly filling a glass and sliding it to you. 

“You know,” you start, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you ended up back here.” You take a long sip of your drink and sigh. Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder, because the drink is absolutely divine. 

“Oh?” He turns to grab a glass to dry off, though you don’t miss that it’s already dry. “And why is that?”

“You always had something to come back to.” You shrug.

When you don’t add anything else, Diluc asks, “So why are you in Mondstadt, anyway?” 

You snort. “What, am I not allowed to go places for the hell of it?” Diluc’s face sours, and you laugh. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your voice lowers. “I’m here chasing a lead. Seems like the Abyss is on the move again, and I’m not going to let the Fatui take advantage of that.” Setting your glass down, you continue, “Besides, you and I both know that Ordo Favonius can only do so much. I figured it was probably better if I just handled it myself.” 

He hums in thought. “Well, if you need help, you know where to find me.” Diluc turns, and suddenly the conversation is over. You sigh and return to your drink.  

“You’re early.” A grin breaks out on your face at the sound of your old friend. You turn in your seat to see a tall woman dressed in all black, a nun’s veil covering her short, burgundy hair. 

Rosaria, the most eccentric member of the Mondstadt clergy. You had met her back when you visited Mond with Dottore, and you had kept in contact with her ever since. Work was hardly ever a topic of discussion, at least while you were a Harbinger, but those conversations kept you sane while you worked your life away under the Tsaritsa. She had become a sister of sorts, no pun intended, and you find yourself grateful for her constant companionship. 

“Ah, well, I had to check out the place myself. Surely you didn’t think I’d go into this blind?” 

Rosaria simply rolls her eyes at you before walking away. You stand, glancing at Diluc one last time before following your friend to the second floor of the bar. 

“I didn’t realize you knew each other,” Rosaria states. It’s obvious that she means Diluc.

You brush shoulders with her as you walk up the stairs. The wood creaks under your feet, and you mentally note what steps to avoid next time. “Ah, yeah. I haven’t seen him for the last two years, though. We don’t really… talk anymore.”

“Something bad happen?” You grimace slightly at her question. 

“Not exactly.” You sit down, pulling out a chair, and Rosaria does the same. “It’s a long story.” 

“I’ve got time.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Good for you.” Your tone is edging on sharp, and your friend takes the hint. You rifle through your bag before setting your laptop down on the table. “Anyways, it looks like the Abyss is en route to Springvale Ward. From what I can tell, one of their Lectors is leading a group of mages and other low-level threats to Springvale to distract us from their bigger plot.”

Rosaria nods. “So, what is the bigger plot, exactly?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet, unfortunately. I managed to get some intel out of a couple Abyss associates, but it wasn’t much. The only thing they knew was that they needed to keep the Northeast gate clear of any Favonius who could get in their way.” You send Rosaria a message with all the relevant documents and her phone chimes in her pocket. “The next big question is: are they smuggling something inorout?”

The clicking of boots draws you out of your conversation, and you notice a man approaching. His dark teal hair sits long over his shoulder, his ornate outfit complementing it beautifully. He takes a seat across from you, next to Rosaria. “So what’s this I hear about the Abyss attacking Mondstadt?

Rosaria doesn’t say anything to the newcomer, but she doesn’t seem to regard him as a threat. You answer cautiously. “Are they now? That would be real bad, wouldn’t it?”

The man just smirks. “The name’s Kaeya Alberich. Captain of the Mounted Unit for Ordo Favonius. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He’s charming in the most disarming of ways, and were it not for the eyepatch on his face, you imagine he would’ve winked right about then. 

“You can call me Shade.” You shake his hand, and his icy blue eye lights up in recognition. 

“Oh, so you’rethe infamous Shade. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, though I must say not all of it was good.” The smile never slips from his face, and you keep your guard equally as high.

“I’m not interested in whatever rumors you’ve heard, Captain Alberich. My only goal is to help people. If you have a problem with that, I’m sorry to say that’s not my issue to deal with.”

He laughs at that, nudging Rosaria’s shoulder. “Did you hear that, Rosaria? They called me Captain Alberich! Not even my officers call me that! You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?” Rosaria doesn’t move as Kaeya slings an arm around her. He eventually simmers down, and he notices you fiddling with your arm. 

It’s one of a few body modifications you have; some are a relic of your time in the Fatui, and some are more recent. You’re sure Dottore would’ve turned his nose up at the newer ones you’ve gotten, but he always was such a snob. Your forearm has a couple of panels; most of the internal structure was changed to accommodate electrical wires. You click them open and shut, mostly out of boredom. 

“Ah, are you team mod, too?” You turn your eyes back to Kaeya and shrug.

“I’m not against it. I got some, had some given to me—it all kind of blends together after a while.” You click your arm shut one last time, flexing your fingers. “You have some yourself, I assume?” He nods but doesn’t demonstrate. Not that you were all that interested to begin with.

“Unlike my brother, I find body modification rather intriguing. Diluc can go on and on about the sanctity of the human body, but I really don’t get it. Why wouldn’t I want to make my life easier?” He flags down a nearby waitress and orders a few drinks for the table. “But anyway, enough about me.” He leans in closer to you. “I would love to hear all about what the Abyss is up to.” 

It strikes you at that moment that Kaeya is much like a bird. Charming, beautiful, and sings a tune that drags you in feet first. But, unlike the tiny songbirds you find so appealing, Kaeya is sharp. He is more like a bird of prey. A hawk hidden under a false coast of peacock feathers. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up clasped in his beak, with no escape easily found. 

You share your intel, and Kaeya leaves.

“I hope you know,” you say as you watch Kaeya disappear down the stairs, “that I don’t intend to let Ordo Favonius do all the work.” 

Rosaria smiles. “Oh, I was counting on it.”

The rest of your evening goes by in a flash, the night speeding by in a mix of booze and old stories swapped between friends. Before you know it, Rosaria heads out for the night, leaving you by the bar. The noise has vanished from the building, only a few sleepy patrons left scattered around at various tables. 

“I saw Kaeya leave earlier tonight.” You hear Diluc’s voice off to your right, and you see him walk out from behind the bar. He makes himself comfortable on the stool next to yours, and you turn away from him. “Did you really go to Ordo Favonius for help before you came to me?” The bitterness in his voice is plain, and you feel years-old resentment stir in your chest. 

“Yeah, like you’ve made it so easy to talk to you these last two years,” you huff. “Honestly, Diluc. You know the Order isn’t my first choice, and I wouldn’t have gone to them if I didn’t think it would help.” His gaze lingers on you, heavy in all its intensity. “Besides, it’s not like I asked Kaeya to meet me. I came here to talk to Rosaria, and he just happened to show up. I made a judgment call, and now I just have to hope it pays off.”

A tense silence follows.

“I’m just saying that Ordo Favonius is inefficient. You can’t trust them to get anything done.”

You furrow your brows, feeling your annoyance seep onto your face. “And I’m just saying that I didn’t ask for your opinion on my decisions. You lost that right when you left, and you know it.”

Diluc doesn’t say anything to that, perhaps because he agrees, or perhaps because he simply doesn’t know what to say. Or perhaps a bit of both. 

Both of you end that night feeling a bit sadder and lonelier than you started out.