thousand_thoughts



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    “Is there a convention in town?” Wriothesley asks weakly.

    “A convention?” Neuvillette inquires, cocking his head to the side. It’s adorable. He’s adorable, but Wriothesley is starting to spiral.

    Because he doesn’t recognize these buildings. Their construction is—weird. A degree off of what he considers normal. Blue roofs. White stone. Cobbled streets. The most handsome man he’s ever seen in cosplay—except he’s starting to think Neuvillette isn’t cosplaying at all and that he, Wriothesley, is having a mental break.

    A modern!Wriothesley at the end of his rope finds himself in canonical Teyvat.

    Language:
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    03 Oct 2024