#aether excerpt

[kaiju-dayo]

eleventh of the fatui harbingers,

first of my heart.

[minhxiao]

if a tree falls scaramouche/aether | rating: T | 2.1k words The night before Jnagarbha Day, when Scaramouche is to complete the final stage of the God Creation Plan, Aether finds him alone in the Apam Woods.

Even at night, the Ashavan Realm is a humid, verdant green. In another life, Scaramouche might have found it beautiful. 

His presence is like an aberrated ink blot on canvas. Even the local flora and fauna seem to bend away from his vicinity, the mythical Aranara making themselves scarce in his company.  

It’s hardly a surprise to Scaramouche. After all, these days, he's only the specter of a person. 

But not for long.

What does come as a surprise, however, is the sudden prickling of awareness that arises at the base of his neck, the sound of rustling grass and footsteps behind him. A draft of warm life fills the air and somewhere, a lotus blooms. 

He hadn’t expected him to show up, to find him here on the night before his ascension as a new god, but Scaramouche doesn’t mind surprises. What he doesn’t like is the feeling of being cornered. 

But he displays none of this current unease, barely even flinches or startles at the traveler’s presence. He only digs his heels into the dirt when he hears Aether come to a stop just behind him. His floating companion is mysteriously absent. 

A divine intervention, then. Scaramouche almost smiles. For a moment, it’s quiet and the wind cradles the veil of his hat like a gentle touch. 

Aether speaks first. 

“You don’t want to do this.” 

Scaramouche had strangely expected him to start with something pleasant, like “what a beautiful view” or “the sky looks lovely tonight,” but quickly realizes the absurdity of that thought. They had never been friends. Even the word “acquaintances” is far too generous. Perhaps it’s merely the strange, unsettled feeling in Scaramouche’s body tonight that is making him more prone to things like sentimentality. 

It is an immense relief knowing that tomorrow, he won’t have to deal with such things anymore.

“You seem to think you know a large deal about what I want,” Scaramouche says, still not turning to face him. “What, one look into my consciousness is enough to have me all figured out?” 

“You… You said you care for Haypasia,” Aether hesitates and oh, Scaramouche loves how he can make someone like the staunch, unwavering traveler stumble over his words. “Someone who cares for their mortal follower wouldn’t willingly throw away their humanity for something like this.” 

“Humanity…” Scaramouche muses. He really is growing sentimental on the night before his rebirth and the feeling itches in the way that he imagines a scar would feel. So Scaramouche only ghosts his fingers over the gnosis in his chest, listens to it tick like a clockwork heart. 

“You already know that I think that’s hardly something worth fighting for.” 

“And divinity is?” 

“... Divinity is my purpose. That’s all there is to it,” Scaramouche stands, slowly dusting the dirt off his trousers. “I have to say, you’re even more delusional that I had initially thought if you really hoped to achieve something with this conversation, but fortunately, you caught me in a good mood, so―”

“I don’t buy it. You’re throwing your life away just to become the Akademiya’s next puppet. You can’t tell me that that’s something you truly want.” 

Perhaps it’s the word “puppet” that sends an irrational flicker of rage and resentment through Scaramouche. His face immediately darkens as he finally turns to face him. 

And there he is, sickeningly golden like the touch of the sun’s last light.

He who has received the favor of the gods. He who had been privy to Scaramouche’s deepest memories, had witnessed his past that still bled like a raw, open wound.

He who has everything that Scaramouche does not. 

Aether.

Even a name is something that Scaramouche does not truly possess, and Aether's is something beautiful, light and free of burden like the wide expanse of the sky.

There is already a sword unsheathed in Aether’s right hand and Scaramouche realizes suddenly that Aether had come despite knowing that his words would be useless. He had approached him all alone, prepared to fight.

Anything Scaramouche had planned to say immediately sours in his mouth.

What a fool.

"You know nothing about what I want."

A sick feeling, vicious as a scythe, twists its way up Scaramouche’s hollow limbs and he decides that he’s no longer feeling generous enough for conversation. He’s moving before he even realizes it, flickering towards him in an arc of lightning. 

To his credit, Aether only wavers for a moment, his eyes briefly widening, before he meets Scaramouche’s blow with the edge of his blade. Electricity sings down the metal into the pommel in his hand, but Aether doesn’t drop his sword. 

He only winces before summoning a snarl of Dendro, bending the earth to his will as vines sprawl to curl beneath Scaramouche’s feet. The irony is not lost on him that Aether is using Rukkhadevata’s power against him, the essence of the energy overflowing with growth, vitality. The thorns nick against the skin of his calves, but he doesn’t register the pain.

Scaramouche singes all of the thorns to dust. 

In a flash, he has his fingers around Aether’s wrist, sending a bolt of lightning lancing up his arm, strong enough to shock the weapon from his hands. 

Aether jolts with a stuttered gasp as he drops his sword, the static making his hair rise as his veins bloom with electricity. His lips are parted in surprise. This close, Scaramouche can feel how harshly his breath leaves him. 

But Aether recovers quickly enough to yank Scaramouche’s robes and drag him bodily to the ground. His hat tumbles from his head with a soft clink. Teeth gritted, Aether arches his knee to drive it into Scaramouche’s stomach, but the Balladeer only twists out of the way and slams his elbow into Aether’s ribcage. 

Scaramouche normally doesn’t fight like this. He never understood the point of getting his hands dirty. But for the first time, he finds there is some physical delight in feeling how his fist connects with Aether’s jaw, how skin meets skin in a moment of perfect, intimate violence. 

Maybe it’s the stark knowledge that this is the closest Scaramouche will ever come to touching something truly holy. 

Aether spits out blood. It splatters crimson across Scaramouche’s knuckles. 

He grabs a fistful of Aether’s hair and tilts his face to look at him. 

The traveler glares at him, chin lifted. Every part of his expression is so devastatingly human that Scaramouche finds himself observing him for a moment. And he’s unbearably easy to read, every feeling that flashes across Aether’s face is as clear as the heart he wears on his sleeve.

“Look at you,” Scaramouche digs his knee against Aether’s hip. “So worked up over me. I should feel flattered.” 

Aether’s brows furrow. He twists to kick his legs, but it’s hardly a struggle to keep him pinned there on the ground. 

“I could say the same for you,” Aether’s voice is low, controlled, though his eyes cut with an unspeakable venom. Oh, he’s angry, and Scaramouche likes that― likes seeing the way he tempers his anger, hones it mid-swing like the arc of a blade just before release.

Anger had always been too tame of a word for Scaramouche― no, what he felt was always something much uglier. Hideous. So there was a strange satisfaction in being able to see that feeling perfectly mirrored in Aether’s own face. 

It’s comforting, in a way. Knowing that even he was capable of such an unsightly feeling. 

Aether’s chest glows green and gnarled tree branches twist along Scaramouche’s legs, rooting him in place. Scaramouche lets go of Aether’s hair just as a vine darts out to snake along his forearm, squeezing tight enough to bruise.

“I’m only indulging you right now since I have the time,” Scaramouche answers, eyes catching on the Dendro energy swirling through Aether’s form. He hates that it’s mesmerizing, that a part of him wants to reach out and dip his hands into that pure, sage green light. “Wanted to see how you’d play the hero.” 

What he doesn’t say is that he really just wanted to see Aether fight for him. 

To see just how desperately the traveler would try to sway him so that maybe, Scaramouche could vainly hope for one second that someone like him was really someone worth saving.

“I’m not trying to play anything.” Aether’s vines curl their way up his shoulder.

“Really? Then why are you here?” Scaramouche lets them constrict and wrap around the length of his torso. “Don’t tell me you thought you would actually be able to convince me.” 

Scaramouche doesn’t miss how Aether’s eyes flash with something raw and honest before it quickly settles back into a heated glare. He falls impossibly still in realization. 

He really did think he could convince me. 

The idea is so absurd that Scaramouche actually goes silent, stunned speechless. 

Aether must see this, because in his momentary distraction, the traveler pulls back his fist and swings it squarely into Scaramouche’s face.

It stings, but only because Scaramouche’s not expecting it. His head snaps to the side, mouth opening.

“I don’t know, maybe I did,” Aether pants, eyes glowing. “ Maybe I thought more of you.”

Something in Scaramouche’s chest stirs with heat and he mistakes it for the stolen gnosis between his ribs. His jaw aches.

Those words almost make you sound like a friend who truly cares.

And Scaramouche looks down at Aether then, his golden hair splayed around him like sweet flowers in the dirt, his fingers slightly shaking in his clenched fist. He sees how the sharp Dendro tendrils are poised around Scaramouche’s neck, paused and waiting― how he’s too merciful to strike him unaware, even now.

In a brief, terrifying moment, Scaramouche wonders if he should just let Aether kill him. But his resilient, infallible body is incapable of death, even at the hands of someone greater. 

How honorable, to be a hero. To carry a title as liberating as “the witness”, “the traveler.” In another life, Scaramouche might have loved to have been the same.

But Scaramouche has long forgotten about things like “honor.”

His voice comes out hoarse. “Sorry to disappoint.”

He sends a current of Electro straight down through the blooming vines until they snap like dry, brittle bark. 

Aether flinches when Scaramouche lifts him up by the scarf and arcs his hand back to strike. 

The palm of his hand crests with a surge of Electro energy, a blinding violet. His power, her power. 

Scaramouche knows, in a moment of heightened clarity, that he could kill him. Right here, in the middle of the forest, with no one else watching― he could kill him so easily that it would be laughable. No one would even know who did it. The entirety of the traveler’s unfathomable, mundane life all within the palm of Scaramouche’s hand. 

In that split second, he sees Aether’s eyes widen with the same realization. Aether’s lips part in a soft intake of breath. 

When a star dies, does it make a sound?

Scaramouche remembers then, that death is a soundless, lightless thing. How it does nothing but leave you and leave you. Even if he were to become a god, he has a feeling he would always remember this death, the way an axe always remembers the tree.

And maybe it’s a moment of weakness, maybe it’s the slight breeze in the woods that reminds him that the forest is watching him. Or maybe it’s Aether’s expression, full and alive with something intangible.    

But he can’t bear it. 

All of Scaramouche’s power leaves him in a split second, his body draining into a hollow vessel. His hand falls limply atop Aether’s chest, right over his stupid, beating heart. He feels it thrumming wildly beneath his fingertips, his pulse warm and rabbit-like.

It's nothing at all like the sound in Scaramouche's chest.

Aether’s breath returns to him in sharp bursts, his hand instinctively rising to curl loosely around Scaramouche’s wrist. His head falls back against the ground in muted relief, the tension slowly bleeding from his body. 

He sees Aether’s mouth open, his gaze swirling with intensity, but Scaramouche suddenly feels exhausted. And he doesn’t want to stick around any longer to hear what Aether has to say. 

So he tugs his wrist from Aether’s grasp and pushes off of him, reaching over to grab his hat. 

The moon peeks out between the clouds, painting Aether’s figure in an incandescent silvery light. Part of his braid has come loose. His lip drips blood in a line straight down his chin. 

(But even bloodied and bruised, he is a vision of everything Scaramouche is not.)

He can’t stand it. 

“Scaramouche, you―”

The Balladeer turns to leave, not intent on hearing the end of Aether’s sentence. His veil rustles as he tips his hat to shield his face. He raises a useless hand in farewell, hoping that the gesture feels mocking.

And if he spends the rest of his night thinking about Aether’s expression right before he could have killed him, no one has to know.

[dansconcepts]

Rise of the "Archons" + One Adeptus + Two Other Immortals

Aka an introductory excerpt of a Rise of the Guardians-inspired Genshin Impact AU from my archives.

Roles to Note:

E. Aster Bunnymund: Xiao (guardian of safety; protector of purity)

Jack Frost: Venti (guardian of fun; protector of freedom)

Sandman: Morax (guardian of duty; protector of responsibility)

Toothiana: Lumine (guardian of memory; protector of growth)

North: Aether (guardian of ambition; protector of dreams)

Pitch Black: Childe

"...Tartaglia?" Lumine hisses. She averts her gaze, landing on the closest figure to her. Her eyes trail to Morax, whose lips are pressed in a thin line with a hand tightly clasped around his tea cup. His eyes reflect exactly how she feels- that tinge of disbelief, with the added aggravation of a lingering foreboding. 

She can't help but attempt to swallow the dread slowly rising within her. With a hardened gaze, she asks, "He was here?"

Aether nods. "I saw water creatures made of black. There was black water everywhere, actually-"

"What?" Xiao interjects. "What do you mean by water? I thought you said you saw Tartaglia?"

The Abyss leader frowns, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. "Well… Not exactly."

Xiao scoffs. "Tch. We've all gathered here for something you aren't even certain about. This is pathetic!" 

"Oh, c'mon Xiao! Give me a break."

"Rex Lapis. Is what he's saying truthful? I feel I need a more verifiable source."

"Hey!"

The surprise from such a childish argument occurring has Lumine giggling slightly at their antics. 

"Paimon was there! It really was Tartaglia!" A small fairy chimes, stomping a tiny foot into the air. She whines loudly, scolding, "Aether, you big dummy! You forgot to talk about how the water literally formed a silhouette of Tartaglia!"

"Oh yeah, that's right! Whoops." He chuckles sheepishly. "Oh-ow!-Paimon!-stop-OW!-hitting-me!... just why does your tiny fists pack such a punch…!" 

In the midst of it all, Morax hums. It causes everyone to trail off, and even Paimon ceases in her hits. 

"And… are you able to confidently swear that, within this very establishment, you saw Tartaglia?"

The blond nods, any ounce of a smile ripped completely off his face. 

"I understand it sounds like speculation, but I- and Paimon too- are confident in what we saw. The water was too familiar. The darkness? Equally so. And the figure forming into the man himself was just as telling."

He breathes. "Tartaglia is back, and he's up to something."

Morax hums once more before going back to his tea in silence.

Xiao rolls his eyes. "Rex Lapis may be satisfied, but I am not. You dragged me away to provide, what, a half-assed warning that you could've sent, I don't know, your fairy to deliver?"

"I'm not some carrier pigeon!" Paimon feebly protests. 

Paimon is easily ignored.

"Well, I'm sorry I thought it was of grave enough importance that we all meet up here or you wouldn't believe me otherwise!"

"I'm here and I still don't believe you!" Xiao spat. "Do you have evidence?"

"Are two people's words not enough for you? We're being serious!" He shakes his head at the adeptus, turning toward his sister in solace to cool his head. "Lumine, you've been quiet. What do you think?"

"Ah, well… you know I trust you Aether. It's just unsettling to think that Ch-Tartaglia would be back after all these centuries…"

It grants a nod from Aether, where he turns to his fellow guardian with a smirk. Xiao snarls, low and feral, igniting a battle of wits between the two. As their heated words fill the otherwise gnawing silence, a distinct brightness shines through the fairly already illuminated building. It reflects harshly off the fake purple neon lighting. The movement ceases and settles right in front of Morax, soothing and gentle. 

Yet he is the only one to notice, as Lumine's eyes are downcast while Xiao and Aether bicker like children.

How did he get here? He wonders to himself solemnly.

"Everyone." He speaks. They ignore him. He raises his voice, repeating the same word. They're too off in their own little worlds to notice. The absolute gall of these children.

Fine then. 

The floor beneath them begins to shake and it rumbles an affronted roar. Lumine is the first to gasp in surprise. She nearly stumbles and instinctively shoots out her arms, stamping her feet to the ground as a way to keep herself upright. Xiao and Aether, on the other hand, repeat the action when the floor starts to make them sway. 

Their heads immediately snap to the source of it all, who stands in the chaos with not even a hair out of place. 

"Done?" He chastises. "Do look up now."

Altogether, their eyes spot the natural beams of light. 

Lumine's eyes sparkle. "Oh! The Welkin Moon! Zhongli, why didn't you say anything?"

"I clearly did."

"No, all you did was shake the ground. You could've just shouted 'moon', you know."

"...Why, yes, I suppose I could've…"

"Well, moon, what did you want to say?"

A silhouette of a cloaked figure with a staff waves excitedly before it's whisked away, revealing the familiar profile of-

"Tartaglia. It really is him." Xiao spits out. "Oh, when I get my hands on that Fatui scum-"

Aether shoots him a pointed look, before turning back to the moon. "Okay then moon, what do we do?"

The cloaked figure points to Lumine.

"Huh? Me? Why-" Her eyes cloud shut. They flutter open just as quickly. 

"Ah." 

She nods, before beginning to form constellations from her hands, letting the moon's whispers guide her. A small pedestal is created, and she lets the stars fly out from the top in a wonderful light show. They use her subconscious memory as a base, beginning to create the form of-

"A new guardian? Ah, we could use the help." Aether concedes with an amiable nod.

"As long as it isn't that popsicle or another annoying pest, I won't complain."

They slowly take in the formation of clogs… legs… shorts… corset…? ...a… lyre?

Before them was none other than Venti, the wind spirit.

"Venti." 

The stars twinkling around the image droop in a mock faint. 

"Huh. I didn't know there could be a horrible answer. I see I was wrong."

"Wha- guys!" Lumine scolds. "C'mon! As long as he helps out, it's no big deal, right?"

"Venti? Helping? All he's ever done was prolong danger and nearly makes me lose it every. single. time. He blows the demons away from me and laughs a storm about it. He isn't trustworthy."

"Well, now he's a guardian."

[kitwalkblr]

New RTF Chapter dropped! It's the penultimate one:3

[card-queen]

Heads up, 7 up

I got tagged by @maskedemerald and I am so thrilled to be able to use lines from my prologue!!!

Rules: Share 7(ish) lines and tag 7 people.

Tagging some new friends: @kyuponstories @moondust-bard @athenswrites @alnaperera

‘Mages!’ screamed someone ahead. ‘Over there!’ While Kiva could not see the scout who alerted everyone to the mages, he followed the gaze of those in front of him to see the circle of five mages in the distance. While they were not clearly visible, the immense glow of their casting circle was. The mages were out of range for Kiva’s unit to deal with and out of sight for the footmen who may have stood a chance. The Yragans were well-prepared for the Alliance attack, as Kiva had feared. Where did they come from? Yragan mages were so feared that any and all sightings of them were closely observed and tracked, with every sighting marked on maps before battle; a group of Yragan mages would never have been allowed to gather like this undetected.

I thought about adding context but then I decided 'nah, not my style'.

[coffeeaddictandinsomniac]

"Paimon told me you left." The Traveller frowns at him from inside the house. 

"I couldn't figure out how to get out of this place." It's a little awkward to admit it, but he’s not going to lie to the Traveller. Not when it seems he’s intruding on his home. "So I slept on a bench."

-

a little scene from shatter the world that i felt was funny.

[gooompy]

"Evidence that Pokémon once familiar to us have been spotted in the various dimensions linked together by Ultra Space, in the same way that Ultra Beasts have been spotted in our own dimension. Upon falling through an Ultra Wormhole, these Pokemon become bathed in a strange energy that seems to facilitate rapid changes and adaptations needed to survive in their new environments, among other speculated effects. We have dubbed them "dimensional forms," though internally we use the code name "ultra variant," or "UV" for short."

-Aether Report excerpt

It seems that when exposed to the bizarre lands of Ultra Space, Eevee's evolutions take on new forms. I wonder what other strange forms we have yet to see! More info coming soon!

*More detailed lore later, but as a brief explanation on each one's inspirations:

-Vaporeon: polluted water, plastic debris and its impact on animals, mutations, oil and water don't mix

-Jolteon: overcharged long boi, they run through the skies and leave lightning trails behind them

-Flareon: explosive smoke cloud and shrapnel

-Umbreon: black holes and new moons because of Ultra Megalopolis's darkness theme

-Espeon: wise and (slightly) wrinkly sphynx cat with a 3rd eye

-Leafeon: bulky and ferocious tiger, stripes inspired by beta Leafeon

-Glaceon: bleached coral and asymmetry

-Sylveon: shinto shrine maidens and shide (zigzag paper streamers)

[nariism]

your boyfriend can't sleep without you anymore.

he used to be tormented by thoughts that kept him awake at night, leaving him tossing and turning until he could hear birds chirping. he was always sort of an insomniac. and it showed, too, when people would point out how irritated he looked every morning.

he's slotted between your legs with his arms around your torso. you're balancing a book on his head: elemental slimes and their applications. it's hefty but the weight reassures him for some reason, proves to him that your existence isn't some figment of his imagination— you're real and holding him like he's some kind of sacred treasure.

one of your hands is in his hair, mindlessly twirling and combing through it. the other is pulling him closer to your body by the back of the neck, effectively squishing him against you.

"did you know that dendro slime flowers taste bitter?" he only hums in response, eyes growing heavy with sleep. his lack of a proper answer tells you all you need to know. the book atop his head closes and is exchanged with your lips, pressing gentle kisses down to his forehead as you peel him away from you to settle into bed.

all the thoughts that would usually keep him up are replaced only by you. you and your warm hands, soft kisses and excerpts from the book you're reading.

he falls asleep before you can even turn the lamp off.

ALHAITHAM, diluc, AETHER, kaeya, dainsleif + your favs <3

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[iceunhie]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⊹ unexpected development ! ꒱ ˎˊ˗

summary ⁠☆ you get transported into your favorite otome game’s world as a shitty side character with a raging death flag. you try to prevent your inevitable destruction... but it doesn't go according to plan as much as you'd hope.

notes ☆ of course it's another scaramouche fic except this time it's plot is manhwa inspired

“This trashy game!” you curse, watching the pitch black GAME OVER screen linger in your phone. Happy music plays despite the current cg of your character at the hands of the tyrant character slash love interest Scaramouche. You sigh, tapping on the back button. “I was so close to completing his route… stupid, stupid game, ugh…”

Teyvat’s Seven Stars was a new otome game that you'd tried out for fun, bored out of your mind. The amazing art and soundtrack garnered your interest, not to mention the male leads were totally your type!

It had an array of tropes and spared no expense of flowery scenes and fanservicey excerpts that made you play despite its massive cashgrab feature. Heart fluttering near death scenes! Action packed romantic scenes with the main characters! It was consuming you and you loved it.

Even if the Scaramouche route was testing your patience.

You get that he was the most difficult to conquer out of all of them, but really, one! wrong! move! ….and an immediate gameover. Life sucks when he's your favorite character, and when your favorite character was notoriously known for having a horrid and difficult complete clear route that no one has completed yet, of course you needed to complete it, no matter what!

Damn it, now you've run out of love points to restart another run. Fuck you, system! Stupid trashy money grabbing game! You put down your phone, closing it. An immediate heavy weight settles on your shoulders, making you feel sleepy as you clutch your phone to bed.

Tomorrow… you'll complete his route for sure…

[ TEYVAT’S SEVEN STARS SYSTEM ACTIVATED! RUNNING GAME FILE NOW ]

Ah. You should've known what was coming.

—

[ CHARACTER FILE: [NAME] [LAST NAME] - CROWN PRINCE KUNIKUZUSHI’S BETROTHED! ]

What the fuck.

You think you've lost feeling in your jaw when the glare of the system shines bright, mocking you.

“[Name], you're awake!” You turn to the sound, and you face probably the most beautiful person you've ever seen. No, what the hell. You've seen him before.

Beautiful silky dark hair, glossy electric indigo eyes, a perpetual aura of ethereal lightness…. the game descriptions weren't lying after all. yes, you weren't dreaming. This was Scaramouche, or should you say at this point in time… Kunikuzushi?

He immediately clings to you. Oh. Oh. Well fuck. “I… uh.”

Scara- ahem, Kunikuzushi’s eyes are littered with tears and oh no you're a weak hearted person for your favorite character. “I'm so glad you're okay! I'm sorry, my mother- I mean, I'm so glad you're okay.”

The rest of the moments is a blur when your… fiance? betrothed? fills you in on what happened. Your mind is fuzzy and you can only piece together just a rough summary of what point in the game you're in.

So, you are currently three years early from the main story. Unfortunately, you are not either of the main protagonists Lumine or Aether. No, the system apparently hates you for being a hater and gave you the most egregious role.

A side character. A side character who barely even appears in the story, left to be trampled on by the story's plot. What's more, you're in the timeline wherein the current Kunikuzushi doesn't take the name Scaramouche because his Mother, the lone Queen Raiden Ei left him when he could not pass the Inazuma kingdom’s test to be worthy of the gnosis.

He took the name Scaramouche after being trained by the shady organization known as the Fatui, the main villainous force in the game and usurped his mother. In other words, a blackened tyrant character!

...And you were the betrothed his mother set for him - executed in the future because he didn't want any trace of Ei’s influence. Amazing.

The future Kunikuzushi would be an arrogant, tsundere and soft-for-only-one-person type of character, but now, he was like a gentle, tucked away from the world young prince.

Wait…. wasn’t he also gullible before?! Very cute, but it's no wonder he blackened so quickly with such a naive personality!

You, well, technically, the character [Name] [Last Name] ended up in this situation after they threatened to leave Kunikuzushi because he was far too fragile for their taste. A side character who’d contributed to Scaramouche’s blackening and paid for it with their life. That was who you were.

Okay, now you pity this boy a lot. He already had a traumatic childhood with Ei not giving him enough love and therefore a plethora of issues, and he'd even end up being a crazy tyrant who stopped at nothing to get the main protagonist in his grasp! For your death flag not to happen, you HAD to do something about that.

You had no choice.

To survive this horrendous fate, you came up with a plan. And that would be Plan give-kunikuzushi-all-the-love-in-the-word-before-he-meets-the-protagonist-and-turn-into-a-blackened-dark-tyrant!

Okay, lengthy plan, but to plan ahead is to be smart, so you can take care of the name later.

—

So far so good, this plan of yours. Plan get-kunikuzushi-to-turn-into-a-sparkly-prince character and not his blackened self was going well! (You gave up on thinking of a cool name) Thank god for cliche romance novels.

So far, you've increased your proximity to him, including him to spend time with you, showering him with bouts of affection and care. And so far, it's been paying off. The once secluded Prince has become so cute and so sweet!

You have to pat yourself on the back for this. You were doing the protagonist a huge favor that now they had a wonderful love interest in their sights for future reference.

Although, if there was one nitpick you had on your conduct, it would be the fact that Kunikuzushi didn't take kindly to others aside from you, and would even be panicked, utterly devastated if you even brought up the mere mention of leaving.

“Break… our engagement in the future?” if it weren't for him looking shell-shocked and deathly pale, the furrow on Kunikuzushi’s face would've been cute. “No! I don't want that! You aren't planning to leave me, are you?”

He gives you the most horrendous god kneeling look of a plea, and of course you drop the subject immediately.

“It was a joke, of course. I'd never want to break our engagement!” you hurriedly reassure, gently taking his hands in yours.

Kunikuzushi looks at you, all puppy eyes and pink cheeks. So cute. Who wouldn't want to stay by his side? You reassure him, “Whatever happens, I'll always stay by your side, okay?”

He looks at your intertwined hands with an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you promise?”

You nod. “I promise, Kuni.”

He nods, gripping your hands tighter, and his expression rivals a blazing sun, brimming with conviction as he pulls you in for a huge hug.

And of course, who wouldn't turn down an opportunity to hug their favorite character?

Surely this time, you’ll definitely escape the death flag and horrendous side character ending, right?!

You don't notice the shadow on Kuni’s face when the mere mention of being separated from you comes up.

In the back of your mind, you wonder what would happen if your Kunikuzushi met the protagonist. Would he immediately fall for them? you wonder, and an uncharacteristic pang of discomfort tugs at your chest. Ah, what would it matter.

You smile at the gentle, pristine and kind Kunikuzushi that's currently excitedly telling you about how Ei praised his sword skills after he beat his younger sister. Even if the main protagonist would come here, you could keep this adorable Kunikuzushi for yourself for just a little longer.

You kiss his cheek, and he heats up. Yes, the future can wait for now.

How the hell did it come to this?

“You told me you'd always stay by my side, right?” a hand slicked with blood is resting on the side of your face. Electric indigo eyes, these ones now having a ruthless glint to them, stare up at your own. “I've removed everything else that can take you away from me. Now, you have no reason to leave.”

By remove, he meant the man who'd decided to make a move on you after you went to the gardens for some fresh air. Hence the blood on his hands and sword, hence the reason why there's a dead body by your feet.

The once adorable and fair-faced Kunikuzushi still turned into Scaramouche after all, and you failed to prevent his blackening. He was truly, undoubtedly the same game Scaramouche.

But… Why was he acting like this? Wasn't this the exclusive feature only the protagonist should be experiencing?

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then the back of your palm. You blush.

Yes, he is now an extremely dangerous individual capable of executing anyone he deems appropriate to just for the sake of it, and yes, this same man is kneeling before you as you're just about to leave after the main storyline cg act just started. And yes, like the protagonist, you should stay far, far away from him.

But could you really? When he was pleading you with such an expression of longing and yearning? He takes your hand to caress it to the side of his face, eyes haughty and grin unsettling, gosh was he so… so attractive, like that.

“You won't leave, right?” Why was he so…. so sweet? Why was this scene structured as if you were the one he wanted to be with, not the protagonist? “You promised me, after all.”

….And why on earth did your heart leap out of your chest when he said he wanted you to stay?

(It was hard to pretend you didn't know why when the smile on your face said otherwise.)

1.5k words, only the real ones know that ive been planning a cliche otome game au since day 1 I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO ME WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS FIC 😭 might turn this into a series if people like this though <3

@ MHIIEEE : do not repost, copy or plagiarize or claim my content or work as your own.

[ghuleh-draws]

A little Dew scribble directly inspired by the second chapter of Into The Eyes Of Fire by @askingforthesun because I immediately lost my damn mind over it. Run, do not walk, to read it right now. Spoilery excerpt under the cut.

“Oh, Hell is real, priest.” Every candle in the church flared into life at once. Panic shot through his body and Aether spun on his heel sharply, and when his eyes fell on Dew, on the gray of his skin, the fire in his eyes and the sharp fangs behind his knowing, satisfied smirk, his blood turned to ice in his veins. “Ask me how I know.”

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt15

Into the Secret Archives

(Summary): After her meeting with the archons, Nahida decides to do some further research into the mysterious brooch found in the Akademiya’s secret archives, while you and company get ready to depart from the comfort of Dawn Winery

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Nahida, traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Paimon, Childe, Diluc, & Kaeya

(Tags/Warnings): Men being petty, possible inaccurate character lore, use of (y/n), (if I missed anything lmk)

(Word Count): 1.3k

(A/n): Sorry if this might read a bit awkward, I’m a bit rusty with writting

Italics = book excerpts

A mess of scrolls, tablets, and books litter the floor of the basement of the Akademiya, a room that the attending students nor most of the faculty doesn’t know about its existence

There the dendro archon sits on the floor reading every document she can find pertaining to the life of the creator; sleep threatens to overtake her for she has been at this for hours but she is determined to at least find something that could aid her and the other archons

Her small hands rubbing the weariness from her eyes she picked up another scroll and began to read it, the document seemed to be useless like the previous ones until her eyes came upon an interesting sentence

“I once saw the creator with a chest pin during their battle with the adversary from another land.”

All tiredness left the little archon’s body. The brooch was seen by at least someone and “adversary from another land?” could this person be talking about a descender? If that’s the case then why would a descender come to Teyvat to fight their Grace?

She looked to see who wrote this manuscript, John Dee. She heard that name before, quickly skimming through the scrolls, tablets, and books she found the researcher’s name. An astrologer, alchemist, and occultist from over 4000 years ago. With newfound vigor Nahida thoroughly read the each of his manuscripts he wrote throughout his life and found that the brooch fascinated him

“Could this chest pin have gave their Holiness their power?”

“During the battle I saw 4 stones in the chest pin, one was yellow, the other was purple, the third was red, and the last one was white. They all shine with a brilliance that no precious stone on Teyvat could.”

“Perhaps the pin could be a way for their Holiness to connect to Teyvat? Or maybe the gods to be connected to humans?”

“Upon further reflection the chest pin could be a source of their powers.”

“The brooch could be a source of their Grace’s powers?” Mumbled the little archon

That can’t be, can it… the all powerful creator needing to rely on external power and not having it within them?

Picking up another book by the same man Nahida quickly read through the pages until she stopped at an interesting excerpt

“Oceanids are known to segment themselves into mimics. Perhaps the same could be said with their Holiness, segementing themselves into 4 different beings?”

Thinking back on her first encounter with the brooch, the small god did feel 4 different auras but they felt similar to each other, all felt similar to your presence whenever you would use her as a vessel

Whatever the case may be, all that Nahida knows is that once the gems are put into the brooch many answers will be revealed

On the other side of Teyvat there you are letting Aether write a letter for the Tsarita and her Harbingers

“My sword training have been going well, I’ve been told that I’m making excellent progress. Also thanks to the Cavalry Captain and the twins they have helped me in controlling my cryo powers, however they still need a lot more work. The ship heading to Fontaine is coming soon so I and the others will have to get ready to depart. Sincerely yours, (Y/n).” You finished

Aether puts the pen down on to the desk and you opened the window and called for a bird. After a few exchanges the bird took the rolled up letter and flew off into the horizon. After you closed the window and drew back the curtains you turned towards the blond

“Your Grace, the spell that I put on you is about to wear off.”

It took you a couple of moments to remember the spell that hides your divine presence from anyone and especially your doppelgänger, you didn’t realize how long it has been and to be honest really impressed at the duration of the spell

“Okay, do what you need to do.” You said standing in front of the prince

Aether’s hand began to glow in the deep blues and purples of the abyss, he brought his hand to your head and instantly you feel something covering your entire body in manner similar to a blanket. After Aether brought his hand down from your head you looked at your hand to see the cool colors slowly fade away, you turned towards the twin

“How long does this spell last?” You asked

“It only lasts for a about a couple of weeks, I would saw at most 3 weeks.” Aether replied

“Is there a way for me to learn the spell so I don’t have to bother you every time the spell is about to wear off.”

“Oh, you can never bother me, your Grace. And I like doing it for you.” You saw a subtle blush creep on the young prince’s features

He’s so babygirl!

You almost hugged him but was stopped when your attention was diverted towards the door opening. There you see Diluc in the doorframe

“Your Grace, the ship is almost here. Let’s get you settled in your crates.”

You and Aether followed the redhead down to the cellar, there you see Lumine, Paimon, Childe, and Kaeya waiting for you. You also see 4 crates, all have cushioning. Diluc leads you to one that has the most padding

“Here is your crate, your Grace.” Diluc lead you to a crate that had a lot of cushioning

“Hey, why does my crate have less padding than theirs?” Childe asked leaning in to take a look at his crate which does have a lot less padding compared to yours even less than the twins

“I ran out of padding, Harbinger.” Diluc hissed out

“Diluc, don’t be like that!” You scolded the redhead before turning towards the ginger. “My crate has a lot of padding, I’ll give you some of mine.” You said, but before you can take some of the cushioning out you hear Diluc clear his throat

“I just remembered there might be some more upstairs!” Diluc urged before he went up the steps

You heard Kaeya chuckle and you turned your head towards the Cavalry Captain

“Sorry about my brother, he has a rocky history with your organization.” He opened his good eye and looked at the harbinger. “I don’t blame him, considering what happened with-”

“Kaeya!” You warned the blue haired man. “I don’t have to tell you to be civil with each other!”

Kaeya raised up his hands in defeat. “I understand, your Grace.”

Diluc finally comes down with cushioning that doesn’t look has pristine as the cushions in yours and the twins crates

“Good the both of you are here. So I don’t have to repeat myself, we all have a common goal in defeating the imposter. If we bicker about past grievances we will get nowhere and worse my doppelgänger might get their hands on me.” You advised

“You’re right, your Grace. I will do my best to be as civil with these people.” Diluc said, his disgust evident on his face, but you take what you can

You look at Kaeya to see him nodding in agreement with his brother

“Bwah, it’s so scary that their Grace can be super intimidating on a whim.” Paimon said as she hid behind Lumine

“I don’t mean to scary, I just don’t want infighting!”

“Their Grace is right, we all have an enemy that has all of Teyvat and the archons under their control. If we lose focus then we risk the possibility of that imposter capturing their Grace again!” Lumine said as she crossed her arms

Childe walks towards his crate before turning towards Diluc. “If you’re still raw about what happened, we can fight after all this blows over.” Childe said and then he entered his crate with the new cushioning in it

You and the twins enter your crates and you watch as Diluc secured the top to your crate, leaving you in total darkness

“Safe travels your Grace.” Diluc said

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06 @desirabletravel @bidisasterforevermore @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch @lhaol

[eidingate]

Roevember Day 7: Crowd

Excerpt from a letter to a little sister: I won't pretend that there aren't times when it feels like I am suffocating beneath the weight of the world's darkness. When I can hardly breathe for it all: the horrors we have seen and the ones yet to come, the fear for our loved ones and the weight of the world's needs.  The best way I've ever known how to cope is to seek out others. To feel the throng of their movement around me, hear their myriad voices rising up into a roaring chorus. To see the tapestry of their faces in a dozen different colors, a hundred different expressions, all of it flowing and churning and bubbling like an incoming tide.  I am part of this tide. I must not forget this. I am not an island floating above it, alone with naught but the shuddering of my own breath.  We are beings of aether. We absorb it from the world around us, from the very planet beneath our feet. Why, then, should we not also draw on it from each other, in even the smallest ways? Surely there is some resonance between us when we gather.

[kitwalkblr]

Chapter 2 is out now!

You can read it here!

[card-queen]

9 Lines 9 People

Tagged by @mister-writes over here! Thanks!

Rules: Share 9 lines from your writing and tag 9 people!

Just a piece from Chapter 2 from Memories of Aether. I still need to get back to Chapter 3 but the days have been a little too unpredictable.

The other tent, while similar to the previous two, housed a figure with the power to eventually shed light on this mystery. Across from the sea of slain Ethelian elites, stacked in the corner as the rest had been, was a body unlike the others. While the uniformed bodies had been cast aside with little regard, this one had been bound to a chair and seemed to have been tortured before death. The dead man appeared noble in garb, with ornate robes, furs and jewellery unlike anything Cas had ever seen before. The man’s face was mostly undamaged but utterly unrecognisable to Cas, who was familiar with all the local nobility and their family. While Cas did not have any familiarity with his High Lord, he would surely have been aware if High Lord Rodger Peren’s family had gone missing or gone rogue. The dead nobleman wore no signet ring nor any jewellery with an insignia; he displayed the appearance of nobility but with nothing specific to mark him out as belonging to any family. The dead man’s face was unlike any nobleman Cas had ever heard of, with rough features, a previously broken nose and missing teeth. Whoever he was, this man was clearly a key figure within this unit; either as their leader, or their key prisoner.

And I.. actually don't know if I have 9 people to tag or if they're actually able to reply to tags. So, if you see this and you want to be tagged, pretend I tagged you so that I know I can tag you in future!

[forlorn-crows]

Home: A Ghost Charity Fanzine supports aid for Palestine. I am one of many creators featured in this beautiful zine, and it would mean a lot to me and the greater @home-charity-fanzine group if we could spread the love to an important cause.

A donation of at least $5 gets you 85 pages full of short stories and fanart, all with the theme "home" (edited by the wonderful @floating--goblin)

You can find the link to purchase >>HERE<<

Excerpt below the cut for easy reading:

Hearts that Hold the Home full wordcount: 1029 . . . He was called Dewdrop. A name fitting for a water demon led purely by the morning star, new and glistening in that early light. Unmarred and innocent. Unknowingly, he was one of the souls destined for a new dawn. A new dawn for a group, unbeknownst to him, clinging to an era that was already tempestuous and doomed to failure. A home on a rocky foundation, its last vital supports marked for future removal—its destiny to crumble, secured. But before that. Before that was Aether and Ivy and Ifrit and Zephyr and Mountain. Mist and Omega and too. Old ghouls who taught him about life, about his element, how to speak, read, and write. New ghouls who learned alongside him—told him stories of their time in the Pit, or lives even before then. Through them, he came into being. Out of nothing, thrust into something. Forged by kinship, patience, love, magick, and spirit. They became his friends, his mentors, his lovers, his partners, his packmates. Family . . .

[gooompy]

"To assist with their work, employees will be supplied a starter Ultra Beast from the Ultra Recon Squad. Pictured are the Poison-type UB Adhesive, the Ground-type UB Tectonic, and the Grass-type UB Luminant."

-Aether Report excerpt

More info to come! But for now, which of these 3 will you choose, dear employee? (I promise I won't take it personally if you like Poipole over my designs lmao)