Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soft taps echoed throughout the area, light and playful like a song half-remembered. Footsteps quickened, laughter bubbling in their wake. “You’ll never catch me! You’re too slow!” a voice called out, hair whipping behind them like a comet’s tail. 

“Not my fault the gravity’s so weak in this place!” came a higher-pitched response, breathless and gaining speed.

“Oh please, excuses, excuses—oof!”

The chase ended in a tangle of limbs as the second figure launched forward, tackling the first to the ground in a heap of giggles. “Aha! Rule number one: never let your guard down!” the girl declared triumphantly, practically glowing with pride. The one pinned beneath her groaned and rolled their eyes. “That’s not rule one. It’s rule six.”

The girl puffed out her cheeks in mock offense. “Ugh, whatever. I still won.”

The one beneath her only snorted and shoved her off with a lazy grin, making her tumble to the side with an indignant little squeak. “Ugh! You’re so heavy!” The girl gasped dramatically, sitting up with a glare. “Excuse me? You’re way heavier!”That just made the figure laugh, low and amused. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

Eventually, the two scrambled to their feet, brushing dust and debris off their clothes. It was only then that they noticed the crater left behind from their landing earlier—a wide, uneven dent in the pale ground. The girl winced at the damage. “Ooh… that’s a bad one.”

She turned to the figure next to her, a note of concern creeping into her voice. “Virell, you sure we’re not gonna get in trouble for that?”

The figure—Virell—merely tilted their head, eyes scanning the cracked ground like it might fix itself if they stared hard enough. “Eh… probably not? Come on, Virephine. The deities are always off dealing with cosmic nonsense or whatever. I doubt they’ll even notice.”

They looked back at her with a confident smirk, hands on their hips and chest puffed out like a proud hero in an old myth. “And even if they do, I’ll take the heat. Not you. I’ll make sure of that. You know I will.”

The girl—Virephine—huffed, rolling her eyes even as the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “Sure you will, Virell.”

Virell puffed out his cheeks in an exaggerated pout. “Why must you doubt me so, my dearest sister?” he lamented, raising one hand to his forehead as if the weight of her betrayal was too much to bear. With a dramatic gasp, he leaned back like a crumbling statue. “Oh! You wound me! You wound me!” he cried, staggering a step for added flair.

Virephine burst into laughter, already swatting at him like he was a particularly loud fly. “Spare me the theatrics, will you? You’re the least trustworthy being in this entire universe!”

Virell ducked and spun away, clutching at his imaginary injuries. “And now she strikes! Another cruel blow to the heart!” he wailed, stumbling around as though pierced by invisible arrows. “To strike your own kin! Your own blood! After everything we’ve been through!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Virephine groaned through her laughter, chasing him half-heartedly as he twirled like a tragic ghost from a space opera.

“And yet I persist,” he declared, collapsing dramatically onto a rock like a fallen hero. “Betrayed! Mocked! Unloved!”

“Oh stars, shut up,” she muttered, though her grin betrayed her fondness. Virell cracked one eye open from his ‘deathbed,’ smirking. “Admit it. You’d miss me.”

She paused—just for a second. Then smirked right back.

“Only a little.”

_____________________________________

They continued their aimless journey across the strange, untouched surface of the new planet they’d stumbled upon. It was dull, barren—nothing but dry, cracked ground and pale skies. Perhaps the deities hadn’t found any use for it yet. Or maybe they never would. Virell doubted it, especially now that there was a massive crater carved into one of its zones…

And a few smaller ones scattered elsewhere.

Still! None of it was intentional. Just the natural consequence of existing, of moving through space the way they were made to. It wasn’t like Virell had meant to cause damage. That was just how things happened around them sometimes.

Their thoughts wandered, gradually pulling deeper and darker. Would they be punished for all this? Virephine had sounded half-joking, but… what if she was right? The deities didn’t always have time for subtlety. Maybe they would get punished. Maybe they’d be locked away. Or—worse.

Maybe they’d be killed.

Virell frowned. Could they ever make up for the damage they’d done, even if it was accidental? Could anyone born the way they were ever truly—

“Hey,” a voice cut through sharply, snapping the thread of panic curling in his chest. “You’re thinking too loud again. Mind turning your brain off for a sec?”

Virell blinked, eyes refocusing. He turned toward the voice—Virephine—who raised an eyebrow at him with mock suspicion.

“Gotta say, bit of a shocker you can think,” she teased with a smirk. “I figured it was just empty space rattling around in there.”

He rolled his eyes with a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Hilarious. Truly.”

“I try,” she said smugly, bumping her shoulder lightly into his.

They kept walking, but something gnawed at Virell’s insides. A wrongness in the air. Like the planet was breathing beneath them—and it had just inhaled.

Why did everything suddenly feel… off?

Virell glanced around, and for a split second, it looked like the world had shifted. The ground bent just slightly at the edges, like a mirage. The sky rippled faintly. Shapes stretched where they shouldn’t.

“Virell…?”

He froze.

Turning, he found Virephine standing still a few paces behind him. But something about her was wrong. Off. Unfamiliar.

Her hair—long a moment ago—was now shortening, curling tighter as its color darkened by the second. Her feet twisted strangely, reshaping themselves into hooves that clicked unnaturally against the ground.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” she said, voice trembling, eyes wide. “Virell—”

Her skin began to ripple, coarse fur spreading like wildfire over her arms and neck. Horns curled from her scalp, slow and grotesque, dragging her expression into something terrified—yet foreign.

“Virell—I’m scared—please, help me—!”

But he didn’t.

He didn’t move. Couldn’t. His body locked, his breath caught somewhere in his throat as pure dread crashed over him like ice water. He could only stand there, frozen in disbelief, as recognition hit him like a blade: This wasn’t new. This was familiar.

Around him, the world shifted again—no longer barren rock, but white. Flat, colorless, all-consuming. The same blank canvas of nothingness he’d known far too well.

Then came the noise.

It started as a buzz—then fractured into screams, whispers, grinding static, voices that clawed at the inside of his skull. A thousand sounds at once. Too much. Too sharp. Too loud.

His ears rang violently, but he couldn’t cover them. Couldn’t raise his hands. Couldn’t look away as the sister he loved twisted and contorted into a nightmare dragged from the deepest pit of his mind.

He wanted to run. To scream. To do something.

But all he did… was watch.

“Do you remember what you did…?”

“You watched and did nothing.”

“Coward.”

The voices came like knives—sharp, endless, merciless.

But Virell couldn’t hear them. Not truly. Not fully.

All he could see was her. Virephine. His sister. His first love. His only anchor.

Screaming. Convulsing. Shifting into something she was never meant to become.

Something she hated. Something he couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were in his throat, hot and strangling. Lodged there like glass. He wanted to say it—needed to say it—but his lips wouldn’t part. His body wouldn’t move. He was choking on it.

“I’m sorry.”

This is my fault

Please let me wake up.

I know it’s my fault.

Please let me wake up.

I’m sorry.

Please let me wake up.

I’m so sorry.

“Wake up.”

_____________________________________

A sharp gasp tore from the figure’s throat as they jolted upright, chest heaving. Their eyes were wide, unfocused—trembling as they darted around, searching for something, anything to hold onto. Hands scrambled across the ground, fingers digging into it like it might anchor them.

Hot tears streamed down their cheeks, tracing paths through the fracture-lines that split their skin—seeping into the wounds and setting them ablaze with fresh pain.

“Mimi.”

The voice was quiet, but steady. Familiar.

Mimi’s head snapped up.

“Nyxorin.”

Chapter Text

“Nyxorin.”

The name slipped from her lips, hoarse and breathless. She blinked at him, then looked away, her shoulders tensing with the weight of shame. Her gaze dropped to the ground, jaw tightening.

She didn’t want him to see her like this. But it was Nyxorin. Of all the deities, it would be him. Detached, untouchable, impossible to read. He wouldn’t care. He never did. Maybe that made it easier.

Better it be him than anyone else.

Silence settled between the two figures like fog—heavy, unspoken, clinging to the edges of Mimi’s breath. Slowly, he rose from the ground, limbs aching, motion stiff with the exhaustion of a body that had clearly shut down on its own—again. Maybe it had grown tired of waiting for her to notice.

With trembling hands, Mimi dusted themself off, jaw tight as he tried to steady her breathing. Each inhale stuttered in his throat, and he fought to smooth it out. It didn’t help. Eventually, Mimi found the strength to lift her gaze—tentative, wary—toward Nyxorin.

She cleared her throat, voice cracking just slightly as she broke the silence. “So… what brings the almighty Reality to my poor, forsaken domain? Come to disturb my peace again?” A forced smirk curled his lips. “Or did you finally decide to accept my standing invitation to tea?” he paused, flicking dust off her shoulder.

“Ah—right. You’re far too busy for that, aren’t you?”

It was a weak jab. A joke, yes, but one that didn’t quite hide the tremor underneath. Still, she threw it out like a shield, trying to shift the weight in the air—anything to make the moment feel less… dull or whatnot.

The Reality deity stood still, unmoved, with that same unreadable expression carved onto his face like stone. To anyone else, he looked perfectly neutral. Cold. Detached.

But Mimi knew him.

She saw the faintest furrow in his brow—so small it could’ve been mistaken for nothing at all. Barely there. Unnoticeable.

But Mimi always noticed.

Not that it mattered.

Nyxorin let out a small, barely audible huff, like the sigh had been dragged out of him. “If you’ve forgotten,” he said flatly, “you summoned me. You said you had something to give me.”

Mimi blinked, thrown off. Her brows pinched slightly as she sifted through her memory for the reason why—what had she-

Oh.

“…Nullfang,” she muttered under her breath, the word tasting heavy and unfamiliar in her mouth after all this time. Nyxorin tilted his head slightly, a brow arching just enough to be called expression. “What?”

He shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Just… remembered.” Turning away, she gestured absently to the surrounding dark. “I’ll go check if the shadows finished it.”

His voice was more tired than he wanted it to be.

She snapped her fingers, and shadows began to rise, coiling around her until they formed a dome-like structure that sealed her in. “Show me,” she spoke softly, her voice unusually gentle. “Have you finished it yet?”

The shadows responded, swirling and folding in on themselves as if they understood. Movement stirred deep within the dark, the shapes shifting with purpose.

Eventually, a silhouette took form. A knife.

Mimi reached into the black mass, her hand moving through the shadows as though they were liquid. When she withdrew it, she was holding Nullfang.

She turned it over in her hands, inspecting every inch with careful precision, eyes sharp and attentive. Looking for cracks. Flaws. Anything imperfect.

The blade shimmered with reds, blacks, and silvers—elegant and lethal. Its curved blade was silver with a faint golden tint at the edge that caught the light just right. The handle was masterfully crafted, forged from mammoth ivory, bone, and horn—all bound together with essence drawn from starlight. Despite its size, it felt light in her grip.

But what truly drew attention was the gem embedded in the hilt—a deep violet crystal that seemed to pulse with life. It wasn’t just decoration. It was made from her own blood, long since crystallized. At its center rested a fragment of his soul, hidden and still.

That was the heart of Nullfang.

It was not merely a weapon. It was a key.

A key to the Anti-Void.

Mimi clutched the knife resting on his hand, his head hung low as he stared at the weapon—and it seemed to be staring back. As the glint of the knife’s edge shone, a familiar voice returned to buzz annoyingly next to his ears.

“A gift? How pathetic of you, Mimi. How could you even be sure such… mediocracy will be accepted into the reality’s hands? Have you ever thought-“

‘Yes, you annoying runt. I have thought about it long and well.’

Perhaps sane would not be a word used to describe Mimi, but when has it ever?

Eventually, as a sigh escaped past their lips, the dome of shadows retracted back into the anti-voids floor. He turns around to face Nyxorin once more, who had a raised brow as a look that Mimi could only describe as suspicious was evident on his face.

“You sure took your sweet time, shortstack.” The reality deity said after the pause of silence. “What is this… thing that you ought to show me? Is it so important that you actively sought out my presence?”

Mimi rolled his eyes, “I was not even expecting you to answer my call, Xorin.” The deity stepped forward, “Was half expecting a no message or reply from you, let alone for you to grace me with your oh so wonderful presence.” 

The deity of Reality almost looked offended at the accusation, “Hm. You deem me an ignorant deity?” 

The white-haired deity squinted his eyes, “Do I never?” He said in a joking manner. “But no, if that’s the answer you wish to hear.”

Nyxorin shook his head. “Answer me truthfully, Mimi. Do you deem me neglectful of your calls?”

Mimi blinked in confusion, then he looked away, sighing. “Nyx, it is not a big deal. I was merely making fun of you.” She paused, then looked towards the other deity once more. “I understand you are not always able to answer my calls. I am not your priority, you are far too busy with other things. I understand.”

Silence dawned over the two, tension so thick it was difficult to breathe. Mimi cleared his throat, “Oh well! I ought to show you-“

She was cut off by a hand wrapping itself around her wrist. Mimi jerked slightly at the unexpected contact as her head snapped towards the other deity, eyes wide and confusion evident.

“Nyxorin…? Unhand me.”

“No.”

Mimi’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Nyxorin sighs, “You’re excused.” He said in a short moment of humor, before his mask was replaced by seriousness instead. “I-“ Hesitance, that was something Nyxorin rarely showed, and now Mimi could not help the slight anxiety crawling up his spine.

Silence fell between the two once more, the spiel being broken by Nyxorin’s voice. “I am never too busy. Do you underestimate my abilities to do such a feeble task of talking to you?” 

Mimi stared at the man in front of him, “Not really a feeble task if you were barely able to do it, is it?” He replied, his voice dripping with slight bitterness and sarcasm. “I don’t care, Nyxorin. I know I am not your priority. You have far greater things to handle than visiting me in this damned domain. Now unhand me.”

The dark-haired deity stared back, his grip tightening slightly. “You are upset with me.” He muttered, a statement rather than a question. “You say you understand and yet you’re upset with me.” He paused, then his brows furrowed ever so slightly, “Why?”

She stared at him with wide eyes, the gold in his veins pulsing ever so slightly as he swallowed nervously. Then he grumbled and snatched his hand out of Nyxorin’s grip. “I am not upset with you, I may be petty, but I am not desperate.”

Nyxorin’s brows furrowed as he clicked his tongue. “You love doing that, don’t you? Twisting my words.” He pursed his lips, then closed his eyes, crossing his arms when doing so.

“I do not even want to know where you got the idea of me calling you desperate. But I was merely asking if you were upset with me, starling.”

Mimi rolled his eyes at the name, “Tsk. Don’t call me that.” He muttered, irritation dripping from his tone as she backed away. “Stop distracting me, here. Have your stupid gift.” They grumbled as they waved their hand and none other than nullfang appeared in her hands.

The other deity blinked in slight surprise, the reaction so faint any other person would’ve missed it. But Mimi wasn’t any other person, and he hated her decaying heart for skipping a beat.

Silence fell between the two as Nyxorin took the weapon-but-also-key item into his hands. Mimi looked away as she cleared their throat. 

“It’s called Nullfang.” She finally said after the long pause of silence. “It doesn’t like overtly warm places. It may or may not have a mind of its own, that’s for you to find out.” And it’s true, Mimi has this habit of giving non-living items “life” to the point it’s concerning. While it’s not really alive, the shadows that choose to live inside it sure are.

The reality deity raised a brow at the comment, “No warm places, huh? Alright. I think I’ve got an idea where to contain this… gift of yours.” He hummed as he held Nullfang with a gentleness that Mimi did not expect.

“I-“ Nyxorin hummed, clearly thinking. “Hm. I have a feeling you are not telling me everything about Nullfang.” 

Mimi raised a brow, then shrugged. “You’re the deity of reality, figure it out.” To which the other deity rolled his eyes. “Ah, making my life difficult. Don’t you just adore doing that.” He mumbled as he inspected the knife. “Quite an interesting craftsmanship. Did your shadows make this?”

“Sort of. I formed the knife mostly by myself.“ Mimi admitted, “But of course, my dear shadows helped quite a lot, didn’t you, dear?” She smiled gently towards one of the shadows waving at her from the ground. 

Nyxorin observed the other deity, then his eyes landed back onto the item on his hand. He observed the craftsmanship with the usual silence that followed him. Mimi hated that it still made her nervous when the other lacked noise, but he reminds himself that Nyxorin was just like that.

Eventually, Mimi sighed once more as they slumped forward ever so slightly. The sound caused the other to look up in slight curiosity. She crossed her arms as their eyes stared at him. 

“It is not merely a knife, you are right.” He grumbled as if admitting Nyxorin to being correct was a heavy chore. “It is… it’s a key.” 

This made Nyxorin perk up ever so slightly, “Oh?” 

“Yes, “oH?”. It is the key to… well, here.” 

The other deity blinked, looking at the white-haired deity, then back down at the knife. “Hm. I see. I assume you use it in a way that you tear open an entrance to here, right?”

Mimi grins, “Indeed. Wow, look at you, what a natural.” 

Nyxorin’s lips curled into a smug smirk, “Are you truly surprised?”

Mimi groaned, “Ugh. You and that infuriating smirk. I dream of the day that I wipe it off your dumb face.” He grumbled beneath his breath, but nobody could deny the faint smile resting on his lips.

Eventually, their small talk turned to their usual banter. Of what? Nobody truly knows. The subjects of their conversation changes quite rapidly depending on the day, most likely due to Mimi’s lack of an attention span. Quite surprising how easily Nyxorin goes along with it.

Yet no matter how good things seem to go, life will find its way to end good things.

Nyxorin takes Nullfang, bidding Mimi a farewell.

“You’ll visit?” Mimi asked, pretending to ignore how hopeful he sounded.

The other deity raises a brow, smirking. “Why, missed me already?” Mimi rolled his eyes, “Oh fuck you. Just go.” 

Nyxorin’s smirk softened ever so slightly as he sighs, “But yes. I shall, eventually.”

And so that was that.

They both didn’t know that the next time they’d see each other again would be a long, long time from now.

But for now, Mimi slept, and no dreams came that night.

__________________________________________________

“Mimi…?”

“I want to make a deal.”