Fatui harbingers x male reader
Teyvat is like a Tree. As rooted to earth as a tree.
Y/n is like water. Water can push it's way even through walls, and when trapped, water makes a new path.
Credit to the person who has created the artwork in the co...
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Y/N trudged forward, his steps slow and heavy, the biting cold cutting into his bones like shards of ice. The wind howled around him, carrying sharp flakes of snow that stung his face and blurred his vision. His hands, frozen and trembling, were clutched tightly to his chest in a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of warmth. His body shivered violently, each breath he took coming in ragged gasps, visible in the freezing air.
His tabi socks, soaked and torn, provided no protection against the freezing ground. Each step sent a wave of pain shooting up his legs, but he couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when the cold had nearly consumed him.
The landscape around him was a blur of white, stretching out endlessly in every direction. The snowstorm, relentless and unforgiving, seemed to swallow him whole, each gust of wind pushing him closer to the brink of collapse. His limbs felt heavy, his body numb with cold and exhaustion.
Y/N’s vision began to blur, the world around him becoming hazy and distorted. The snow and wind swirled together in a dizzying dance, making it impossible to tell where the ground ended and the sky began. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but his head was pounding, his thoughts slipping further into a fog.
And then—through the blinding white—he saw something.
Figures. Dark shapes moving in the distance, faint and indistinct but unmistakably human. His heart leaped in his chest, a surge of hope breaking through the numbness that had settled over him. Help. Someone was there. He wasn’t alone.
He tried to call out, but his voice was little more than a weak croak, swallowed by the roar of the wind. His throat was dry, his lips cracked and frozen, and no sound came out. His breath hitched, panic rising in his chest as he forced himself to keep walking, his feet dragging through the snow.
The figures grew closer, but his vision was failing. Darkness crept in at the edges of his sight, and the shapes before him became more blurred, like shadows moving in a dream. He staggered forward, his knees buckling with each step, his strength fading fast.
He tried to raise a hand, to wave, to signal them somehow—but his arm wouldn’t move. His body felt like it was made of lead, weighed down by the cold, by exhaustion. His hands remained clutched to his chest, his fingers stiff and frozen, refusing to respond.
Y/N stumbled again, his legs giving out beneath him. His knees hit the snow first, the cold seeping through his clothes and biting into his skin. His hands slipped from his chest, falling limply to his sides as he gasped for breath, his vision growing darker and darker with each passing second.
He could still see the figures—so close now, but still so far away.
