#and the cryo abyss herald too

[kaeyachi]

HELLO? THE WAY THE SCRIPTS FOR THE LIVESTREAM IS LITERALLY "Dainsleif archon quest! So cool! Oh yeah and he'll meet Kaeya BUT ANYWAY let's talk about the other updates!"

[dutybcrne]

Okay, decision made:

He almost primarily uses his Abyssal abilities, and near exclusively in the way a Cryo Abyss Mage/Cryo Herald would, and had relied upon them alone, up until he was given an Anemo Delusion once he'd become of age.

[reginrokkr]

Day #893 of brainrotting about the way an humongous event horizon stands behind Dain pretty resemblant to a leaked abyssal enemy, except on the latter it's on a significantly smaller proportion tucked in its chest, the flames of galaxy at his fingertips and his feet and the shards of crystals stand there as more than plausible burst—

[4giorno]

yes kaeya looks more like an abyss mage bc of the fur and the patterns and stuff but introducing the cryo herald when theres an important abyss related quest with kaeya is.... certainly an interesting choice

[aromanticasterisms]

collei's coming back to mond for windblume :'']]]

[zweetpea]

Contracts or Biddability (part 1 of 2)

cw: Pg13, innuendos and vulgar language, and so much cringe, some pop culture references too.

“The end.” The cryo abyss herald closed the book.

“That was a really sad story.” You said as your eyes glazed over. The Abyss order had kidnapped you and held you captive for a while now. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been down here but the food was good enough and they’d borrow enough books from the surface to keep you entertained.

“I’m sorry. We weren’t been able to borrow anything else because of the security around the Favonius library.”

“Well, you could just let me go and I can find something on my own.”

“No! We need you here to further our plans!” He panicked.

“What plans? What happened to Dvalin? What’s the deal with Andrius?”

“Just calm down my liege. All will be revealed in time.” He patted your head and walked away.

“I want to go home.” You curled up in a ball.

“Aaaaahh!” Someone yelled. That ear piercing scream roused you from your sleep.

‘Should I shout for someone?’ You thought. ‘What if somebody broke in? But if it’s a fire and they don’t know that I’m still here…’

“Help! Help me please! I don’t care who! I just want to see the Sun again!”

The door squeaked open and you thought that maybe your pleas would be recognized, until you saw that the man who walked in was a Pyroslinger Bracer. “Why is the Fatui here?” You whispered meekly.

He raised his rifle towards you head. “Wait, please! Don’t kill me! I wanna live, wanna live!” He shot, but the bullet bounced off of your skull and fell on the ground. “Well… that was anticlimactic.”

He shot you again 3 more time. “Ow! That hurts, dickhead!”

“How are you alive?”

“Hehe. We’re immortal Buffy we can do anything. Oh yeah? Clap.”

“My name’s Vincent.”

“Oh for shucks sakes.” You roll your eyes.

“I’m sure the Doctor will be very interested in you. For now I’ll take you back to Childe though.”

“Ew! Dottore needs to back the F up before he gets smacked the F up for what he did to Collei.” Vincent bound you hands, then grabbed your arm and pushed you through the Abyss. “Hey real quick for my internal monologue I need to know what pronouns you use. My names Gen with a G apparently. I’m gender fluid and I go by they/them.”

“…uh, Vincent Powers and I’m a man.”

“So… he and him?”

“Yes? I’m so confused why you’re confused.”

“Well, I didn’t want to assume.”

He brought you back to the surface and it felt wonderful. Then he placed you in the back of a cart and you two and the rest of his squad set sail for Liyue.

It’s been maybe two hours since the Fatui captured you and you’re finally at Liyue Harbor. They’ve taken you to the Northland Bank to meet Tartaglia. Vincent threw you onto the ground at Childe’s feet.

“What the Abyss is that thing?” His presence is all consuming.

“That “thing” said that they’re name is Gen with a G.”

You look up and see the red head eying you up with disgust. You return the glare and proclaimed, “I finally get to meet my rival. I swear to you, I’m going to seduce Zhongli and get his cock!”

“Excuse me?” He looks at you even colder than before.

“You heard me! I’m willing to take him up my ass if he’s gay.”

“You are vulgar and repulsive.” He pressed his water blade things against my throat and sliced across it. You fell back onto your butt at the pressure.

“Ow. Yeah, um—Mr. Tartar sauce—that’s not going to work. I’m kinda immortal, somehow.”

“How dare you insult me! Do you know who I am!?” He grabbed you by the top of your head to look him in his eyes.

“Honestly if you look at me like that more often I’d let you have a piece of my ass any day. I just assumed that you were a bottom but I’ll let you creampie me if you become my sugar daddy.” His face burst into crimson. He threw me onto the ground and stomped on my throat. “This is turning me on.”

“Get this thing out of my sight.”

“Hey I’m a person! I have feelings you know!”

“But what about Dottore? Wouldn’t he like to examine them?”

“Dottore will have both of our heads if we bring him this thing.”

“I’m not an object, I’m a person! You see, this is why Zhongli will never love you.

“You know what? Since you’re so obsessed with Mr. Zhongli, why don’t I just send you to him?”

“You’d do that for me?!” You shouted excitedly.

“Sure. If it get’s you to leave me alone.”

“But Childe, they’re immortal. You don’t come across something like that every day.”

“Hey can I have a delusions? I don’t have power over the elements but I don’t think I can die so a delusion shouldn’t be a problem for me.”

“Fine!” He threw a delusion connected to a chain at you. “NOW GET OUT! TAKE THEM TO SEE ZHONGLI IF THEY WANTS TO SO BADLY!!”

“Hey! This one’s broken!” You yelled at him as you were being dragged away.

“You never specified if you wanted a working one or not!” He smirked back at you.

Ugh this sucks! You still have nothing to defend yourself with! You can at least tie the stupid thing around your wrist.

“Mr. Zhongli? Is Mr. Zhongli here?” You asked someone at the Funeral Parlor.

“Hm? Did someone call for me? I was just about to head out.”

“Hello Mr. Zhongli. I’m Gen Z, spelt with a G.” You extended you hand to shake his.

“Hello Gen.” He took your hand and shook it. ‘His hands are so big.’ You thought. ‘Heheh, dirty mind dirty mind dir-dir-dir-dir- dirty mind!’

“Excuse me. Why is your bracelet glowing?” He asked. You look down and see that your delusion has started to glow yellow. “Huh?”

‘Have I resonated with geo?’

[dandelion-wings]

From the first whumptober list: 07 only for emergencies, anything involving kaeya

Thank you for all the prompts! I'll be weaving the ones I write in between other prompts, but I'll start with this one, as I promised. :>

Warning on this one for some suicidal ideation and possibly body horror? More an attempt at psychological horror tbh.

---

Kaeya does have to admire the breadth of the Abyss Order's ambitions this time around. To seize the power of a fully-revitalized Nail and turn it into a weapon of the Abyss would be a formidable accomplishment. Dragonspine would become as corrupted as the Chasm, but with no hope of Celestia's power ever cleansing it, the taint spreading inexorably out to swallow first Monstadt and then the rest of surface Teyvat.

It's a final chance for them, do-or-die; once the Honorary Knight blazes all the way to the center of the Order's stronghold, the Order's fate will be decided there, one way or another. It's no surprise they've committed so much to this backup project. Though, knowing what he does about their leader, Kaeya wonders if this division of forces is acting under orders or upon their own initiative. Perhaps, if the Order survives, they'll find themselves facing them as rivals.

Only if the Knights can't stop them. They've made good progress so far. Sixth and Seventh Companies have secured the entrances to Dragonspine; Fourth Company has fought their way down into the depths of the newly-uncovered tunnels in which the Order is doing its work. The Lectors who had laid out this spell-array are dead, and the Mages who had been conducting it with them. Nothing is left to defend the array laid out at their feet.

Except for the monsters still disgorging from the doors of the domain on the cliff above, hilichurls and rifthounds in what seem like endless numbers, led and conducted by a pair of powerful Heralds. Eula and her knights are holding them back, if barely. There's no telling how many reinforcements the Heralds have, or how long those defenders can hold.

"We should have brought Lisa after all," Jean says, her voice choked with self-recrimination. Then it firms as she wraps herself in the authority of command. "Kaeya, do you have any ideas?"

It isn't said knowingly. It doesn't have to be. He knows what she knows, what he's fed her and what she's gleaned, the slips he's made that were halfway admissions, the quiet questions she's asked with care to restrict them to only the moment's needs. The patchwork of her knowledge is enough for this.

He's not sure *his* knowledge is enough for this. Kaeya left home with only partial instruction in the Order's rites and the older magic of Khaenri'ah's alchemy. Maybe they should have brought Albedo, too--but 'should haves' do them no good. Partially-learned or not, he can feel the Abyssal power gathering in this arcane circle, surging through the artificial leylines plumbed alien and invasive through the stone. Those can't be cut from without, and the spell is self-contained, an almost-living thing pulsing with its own power, regrowing the lines of its own sigils when they tried to smudge them from the cavern floor.

There are four around the edges, perfectly spaced: Pyro and Cryo, Hydro and Electro, each drawing out their respective power from the artificial leylines to feed into the spell. Each had contained an Abyss Mage until the Knights' weapons had brought them down, but it was already too late to disrupt the spell in that way; the leylines were already tuned, their energies in perfect balance, fueling the magic without need of any further instruction.

A fifth, an inner circle slashed across with interconnected lines, lies in the middle. Kaeya doesn't have to be able to see through the stone above to know that it's directly beneath the Nail it was constructed to corrupt.

"I have one," he says, giving Jean a smile and a wink to hide the catch in his throat. Then he turns to Amber, hovering anxious on Jean's other side, watching the battle on the cliff above with an arrow ready for whenever Eula needs her shot. "Any chance I could borrow a Baron Bunny? Already armed, if you don't mind. This is going to take some concentration."

Amber bites her lip, glances once more up at the Reconnaissance Company's fight, and then, before Jean can make it an order, pulls a bunny doll out of her pouch and pours the Pyro into it that makes it swell to proper taunting size. "Be careful with it. And don't waste it!"

"Oh, I won't," Kaeya assures her, with enough of a smirk to make her glare. "I have big plans."

Then he steps over the edge of the spell's outer circle, the energy of the false leylines thrumming in his ears like his own pulse as he makes his way to the central sigil. He can feel the spell, not quite conscious, eager and hungry, growing stronger with each pulse of the leylines and seeking an outlet as those energies grow to a peak. It takes all his will to keep walking forward towards its heart.

He hooks the Baron Bunny's arm into his belt as he steps into the center of the circle. The sigil is familiar, if more elaborate than the one he knows--the one that can turn a noble of Khaenri'ah into a creature of the Abyss Order, able to command both their lessers and the Abyss' power with ease. All the extra curlicues and channels and bindings, the artificial leylines and all the power they've brought to bear, are there only to force their way through Celestian defenses. Once those are broken down, all that's necessary will be the Abyss' touch.

It wants something to corrupt, does it? Kaeya can give it that.

The pulse of the leylines in his ears takes on a faint whine when he takes his place there, and his Vision throbs in counterpoint at his hip, cold enough to burn. Of course. If this was a common circle, the sort he saw cousins step into, he would have thrown it away--but this spell array is already designed to pierce Celestia's power. No point in taking the full force of this thing when even a fraction of it can be spent on doing so. No point in throwing away the only defense he has. He touches his Vision once, pretending that his fingers aren't trembling as he caresses its cold, smooth surface for the last time. Then he draws his sword.

*"I am a noble child of Khaenri'ah, descendant of Chlothar Alberich,"* he says in perfect court Khaenri'ahan, the language of the Mages, however harsh it may sound to Mond-trained ears. *"My father is head of the Alberich Clan, and I am his rightful heir. I am born a sinner by the decree of those who hold unlawful sway over this world, and I dedicate myself to those sinners who came before, that our salvation come in the washing clean of our blood."*

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jean flinch and start towards him as he slashes his sword across his wrist. He glances up long enough to shake his head at her, smiling tightly. Jean, her face drawn with worry, takes a step back and holds her ground.

Kaeya doesn't know how they had planned to open the path to the Nail. But for a Khaenri'ahan's rebirth, the only possible route is through that in which Celestia's curse resides--by allowing the Abyss to enter, and burn out the heavenly taint in the blood.

The Abyss floods in. Kaeya can feel the power rushing through him, Electro crackling up his nerves, Hydro flooding his throat and chest, Cryo sinking into his bones. Pyro is last, and his Vision resists that fiercely: the familiar crystalline shield flaring around him, a burst of cold that leaves frost on his clothing and instant numbness in his flesh all up and down his left side. Then both shatter under the flames that come sweeping up from below, even fiercer in response. Kaeya can't choke down the drowning scream as they envelop him and his Vision dissolves into fragments and smoke.

His frostbitten, crisping skin is barely a concern now, though, because the Abyss has him, and it has far worse intentions than burning him alive. The power of the artificial leylines had already been pulsing in his ears; now the pulse grows all-encompassing as those invisible threads of magic dig into him, sliding up through his feet, through his fingertips, though his laid-open wrist, through his hidden right eye. Invisible or not, they crawl through his flesh like roots through earth, their power dissolving meat and blood and bone like crumbling soil. Tendrils twine through his rib cage and he screams again, burbling and wet; others wind through the stiff cartilage of his throat and the scream dies as his voicebox collapses.

Someone else is screaming in his place, but a tendril comes creeping out from the back of his left eye, shoving his eyeball from its socket, and he can't see who. All he can tell from the voice is that it isn't Jean.

His heart rabbits in his chest, panic at the invasion, panic at the force of it, at the magic tearing him apart. He knew it would be like this, and yet he had no idea. This is so much vaster, so much worse than anything he's seen his cousins go through. The artificial leylines don't send the Abyssal taint seeping gradually through him; they force their way into his flesh, his blood, his mind, overpowering him with no recourse. One twists around his frantic heart and crushes it with casual ease.

What matters isn't the leylines, or what they're doing to a body that was never going to survive this transformation. What matters is the Abyssal power throbbing through them, remaking the flesh they tear through into entirely different and unnatural form. Remaking his mind, too, far more swiftly than he had ever imagined. It becomes more and more difficult for Kaeya to stay focused on his own goals here. The Nail, Mondstadt, the people around him, the people he wants this power to protect-

He *wants this power*, and that, that thought the Abyss lets him have, lets him focus on, even as it tears his will away. Of course he wants it. That's what every Mage wants, isn't it? The strength to conduct their magic as they see fit, to command their lessers as they deserve, to destroy their enemies in the name of a nation that fell hundreds of years past and serves now as an excuse for present cruelties? Of course he wants this power. It's his birthright.

And there's so, so much of it. Kaeya sucks it greedily in, letting the leylines fill his new body to the brim. He struggles to contain it, this power that had been meant to shatter and rebuild a Nail. From within, with them still wound inside him, he can reach out and grasp the artificial leylines as no one could from without; he snaps their connections one by one, forcing them from his new, shadow-wrapped form, using the very power they'd given him to uproot them from the stone and let them curl, dying, in freezing air. As the last one breaks free, the spell registers its own completion and subsides, the sigils drawn across the stone in Chasm mud and the casters' own blood erasing themselves silently from the cold cavern floor.

Kaeya can't grin in this form, his face a rigid mask of ice, but the hollow laugh that rises from his throat will do. He lifts a hand in a casual gesture and Cryo spins out from him in a whirling circle, at once familiar and new. Icicles brush against something that had clung to the tattered clothing still hanging around him even as his old flesh burst open, something that begins to twitch and move. Kaeya spares the Baron Bunny barely a glance. He has other targets now.

"Kaeya?" Jean asks, starting towards him across the now-untouched stone. She holds a hand out towards him; her eyes are wide, and frightened, but there's a determined set to her jaw that Kaeya recognizes. He'd found it charming, once. A strength that he appreciated, and was fond of.

In her other hand is her sword, blade bared, even if she holds it low. He thinks that he would have appreciated that, too, in the past that is suddenly all cold memory, with no warm feelings lingering. Now he only looks at it in calculation, aware of the threat that it poses.

Not so much a threat that he has to fear it, not brimming with the power that he is. He cackles again, drawing the icicles inward and flaring up a shield in their place, triangular panes of glass far thicker and harder than the paltry power of his Vision had been able to call before. Behind its hard barrier, he holds out his own hand in turn.

"Jean," he says, in a parody of the affectionate tone the human him might have used, his new voice twisting it beyond all pretense of sincerity.

He can see her falter at that, then step forward again, believing, no doubt, that it's only the hollowness of his voice that's altered his tone. She's always been so trusting, so faithful, so confident in his loyalty. How useful that's always been. How useful it's been this time, to help him shuck off the misguided emotions of weak human flesh and become what he was always meant for. Something overshadowing Mage or Herald or Lector, some unnamed being greater than each, a form of which the lesser nobility had been only an anticipation. The creature that the last heir of the Alberiches was destined to be.

"Jeanie," he croons, taking a step closer, watching her grip loosen on her sword at a name he knows held resonance for them both, still does for her--something hated as a child, yet a matter of affection now as well as irritation, knowing it for a sign of his own supposed fondness. Fascinating how humans can turn an offense into a friendly gesture. "Don't worry. It's still me."

And only then, with her a few steps away, her swordhand hanging at her side, her defense beginning to relax, does he make a sharp motion with that outheld hand and send a rain of icicles crashing down upon her.

She's not quite so relaxed as she seems, flinging herself sideways and throwing up a Gale Blade to blast the icicles and the cold slowing cloud they carry away. Kaeya is already moving in another attack, a double-pronged cross of slashing ice-bolts. As they fly, there's a shout from the edge of where the circle had been, and he sees a glimpse of Amber, white-faced and furious--oh, that's still funny, that's always been funny, and now it's *hilarious* without the twinge of self-consciousness that had used to accompany his amusement.

The arrow flares against his shield, and there's the slightest smear of half-melted ice where it struck, but the shield crisps over and goes smooth again without him having even to will it. What's been poured into him exceeds the Abyssal taint of any being the Knights have met before. He's far, far too powerful for his shield to be pierced from without, even by Pyro, even should someone (*ah*, that fear still twinges before the Abyss soothes it away) be here with a flaming claymore.

But from within-

Baron Bunny, unheeded and forgotten, reaches the climax of its dance and explodes.

His shield, crafted to withstand any attack from without, cracks asunder. Despite everything, Amber is screaming his name. And Jean, flung back by his ice-bolts but rising bloodied and grim-faced, shouts, "Amber, now!" Amber swallows her terror and fires into the air, her Vision flaring at her hip and Pyro consuming the arrow as it flies and curves into an arc. A rain of blazing arrows descends upon him, seeking out those cracks, carving them wider. His cracked shield shatters and sends him to one knee on the ground.

No matter. Burns twinging all up and down his right side, Kaeya springs to his feet, fencing himself again in swirling icicles as Jean sprints towards him, already making the gestures to call another shield. He'll shield himself, vanish away, and have that flaring pain healed by one of the samachurls he knows are retreating behind that domain door. Then he'll return and demonstrate to Amber what depths of cruelty he can reach that she had never imagined.

Just as his shield starts to shimmer into existence, the icicles fading to generate it instead, a Gale Blade pierces through and breaks it again. Jean follows, flinging herself into him, driving him down and slamming him into the stone.

There are tears in her eyes as she bears him down under her, knees driving into his abdomen and forcing the breath from him before he can speak another incantation. His armor should hold against her, but the right side of it has melted, and she wedges her blade into an exposed crack at his neck and holds it there, pressed against what isn't any longer skin but is still vulnerable to a blade infused with a Vision's power. Even a monster needs a head.

But she hesitates, the way he'd known he would. Amber has come up behind her, arrow nocked, but she's hesitating too. What had the Baron Bunny been for, after all? He doesn't understand now why he'd thought it so essential then that he break his own shield and armor, make this easier for them, account for this hesitation and give them a chance to overcome it and actually win. Senseless foolishness. That human sentiment has only made his position more difficult now.

"Kaeya," she breathes. "This isn't you. I know you, and you would never truly want to hurt us, or threaten Mondstadt. If you're still in there, if there's any part of you that's still yourself, please-" Her voice catches, and she swallows and goes on. "-please understand."

Not so long a hesitation after all. Anemo pulses down the length of her blade, dissolving the armor where it touches, dissolving not-flesh beneath, as a wind begins to rise. Marveling at how little she *had* known him, this blessed human who thinks him one of her own, Kaeya lifts his hand in a sharp gesture to call more icicles, bring them raining down on Jean and Amber both. With Jean's head bowed and Amber looking down, he can drive spears of ice right through the napes of their necks, smash their skulls with heavy hail, watch their eyes go dull and their faces slack in an instant as blood sprays....

The gesture he makes calls nothing, aborted with a sharp jerk as that image, so deliciously satisfying, nonetheless stirs cold horror in his breast. The fraction of an instant he'd had to react is lost in that convulsive motion, that moment of senseless, foolish sentiment. Wind rises, whipping around them, scented with sweet dandelion and crisp Vision-cleansed Anemo and the bitterness of his death as it carves icy armor away from not-flesh. With his armor gone, Amber will only need one arrow.

A thought an odd, distorted relief, as the thought of their deaths was an odd, distorted horror. And yet it's that horror that he clings to, that relief, the breeze seeming to twist the distortion further even as it sheers his armor away. Kaeya grasps at it, fleeting emotion--the pain he can suddenly feel at the sight of Jean's tears, the guilt at Amber's white face--growing stronger as agony wracks him from head to toe. He wants to be what they think him to be, the person they love enough to apologize to as they put him down. He *wants*-

He's still imbued with enough power to shatter a Nail. What he *wants* is what he can *do*.

What Kaeya draws around himself is an entirely different armor, one he's worn all his life, a human seeming and a human form. It doesn't fit quite right over what he's become, even as he tries to shift his own form into living flesh again, heart and lungs and muscle and bone and one scarred eye and one good one, a hand that reaches up to wrap around Jean's sword-arm, gently, not sure if he's trying to urge her to press it in or drag it away. He smiles at her as gently as he can.

"It's okay, Jeanie," he whispers, in the voice he does remember how to use, nothing hollow about it in the least.

Jean wrenches her arm away from his hand, her sword from his neck, as the Dandelion Breeze dies. "Kaeya!"

She has the sense, at least, not to abandon all caution, sword still in hand as she rises and reaches down to help him up. Amber, though, drops her bow to fling herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder, her scolding muffled but its intent still clear. It takes Kaeya a second to register more than far too much heat, nearly painful, but then he remembers what he's supposed to do--who he's trying to be--and returns the hug.

"Keep that up and I'll start thinking you actually like me, Outrider," he tells her, which does the job of making her pull away to glare.

Overhead, the sounds of battle has stopped. Jean looks that way, then back at them. "We should go ensure that domain is sealed, and then return to Mondstadt. I would like Lisa to examine you."

"And Albedo," Kaeya adds. He can see that his semblance of humanity is ill-fitting without as well as within: through the tatters of his sleeves, his hands are blackened from the fingertips past the elbow, and what show of his shins through his pants are likewise. Other things are wrong too, he's sure. Amber keeps shooting sideways looks at his right eye. If anyone can help him sort those problems, it will be Gold's perfect homunculus.

But those are minor concerns in the grand scheme of things. Should they never fade, he knows that the Knights will keep him anyway, Amber will defend him as fiercely from strangers' disapproval, Klee will adore him nonetheless, Jean will attest to his loyalty against all detractors. He has no fear of undeserved rejection.

Which perhaps wouldn't be so undeserved. Kaeya looks at Jean's back ahead of him and thinks of how easy it would be to send a lance of ice through it, and the revulsion at the thought doesn't entirely eclipse the satisfaction. He swallows against a wave of nausea that suggests he has a gut again and clenches his hand into a fist at his side before it can even twitch towards the requisite motion. He won't. He wants to be the person they think they know, the Kaeya who won't, ever, no matter how much Abyssal power runs through him.

And should he fail, next time he won't make Jean be the one to stop him. He'll rob the Abyss of its victory himself.

[strxnged]

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER IV: envy.

chapter summary. in which Lumine has a nightmare, and discovers the source of her abrupt romanticism. in which tension builds and Childe is told a very personal bedtime story.

wc. 4.2k. genre. enemies to lovers, action/adventure.

table of contents / next chapter

In her dreams, Lumine had been reunited with Aether.

He was shrouded dark, haunting Abyss fog, a dark look in his eyes. They were in a dark ruin similar to the one she had last seen him in,  but this time by her side was, of all people, Childe. In this dream, she understood that she had been travelling with Childe for some time. She had been to Snezhnaya with him, had seen wonders of the world with him, and had risked her life for him. And he, evidently, had helped her find her brother.

But in the haze of the dream the only thing she was sure of was that Aether did not want to return to her. She also knew from that look in his eyes that it was because of Childe.

“You’ve chosen the wrong side,” he seemed to say, and the Abyss Heralds on either side of him shrieked piercingly enough to shatter glass.

 Waking firstly brought with it an ache in Lumine’s chest, feeling the scalding look from her twin upon herself and Childe from her dream. Secondly, she became conscious of the heavy warmth over her shoulders, where the Harbinger’s coat was still draped. Thirdly, she found that her chest was aching more now that a final realization had come over her.

Childe was gone.

She did not know how she knew this, since it was still so dark that such a conclusion could not be drawn by sight alone. Nor did or know it by scent or warmth, because wearing his coat shrouded evidence of his presence. It was a strange, frantic feeling in the front of her mind, in her throat, and in her chest.

Indeed, he was gone, she was quite sure. Logic stated that there was no audible sign of breathing other than her own. She reached out her arm to where she remembered him being as they fell asleep, but her hand could only reach cold air and rock wall.

Trying to shake off the initial fear of this, Lumine put her arms through the sleeves of the coat and fumbled with one of the clasps so that its oversizedness would not cause it to slip off of her. Again she was aware of its breezy, boyish smell. This time it did not put her off, but rather it comforted her. Thinking about it any further would change her mind on the matter, though. She set forth on the way down the ravine towards the purple-ish glow she had noticed before, using her hand on the wall as a guide forward.

Lumine was not sure why she was feeling this way. He was Fatui. He was disgusting. He was evil.

She recalled something he had asked her, right before they’d fallen further into this hell hole. “How many innocent soldiers have you bruised and broken simply because they opposed you?” he’d asked her.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but he had made an interesting point about how the order in which she had met those of the world would have affected her political alignment in this world. Certainly she wanted peace as much as anyone, but at the same time, she felt restless in it. This was one of the reasons she travelled the stars and the multiverse; this was her nature, to never sit still and never be comfortable.

It was true that Childe lived the same kind of life. It seemed that sometimes his actions were based upon instructions from the Cryo Archon, but other times they seemed to be of his own volition. He didn’t like to be used and blindsided, much like her. 

Lumine rounded the corner, and now she could just barely hear the sound of distorted speech and scuffling shoes on gravel somewhere in the expanse of the violet rocks jutting out beneath the overturned tower ruins. There was enough light as she stepped out of the tunnel that she could see the steps before her. She welcomed the ability’s return and swore she’d never take it for granted again. It had been too long since she last ran and so she embraced the opportunity as she passed crumbling stone pillars and small clouds of black smoke. She was drawing closer to the sound of battle, and where battle was, she anticipated Childe to be too.

Wicked laughter from a Hydrogunner alerted her of the affair’s specifics, and she hastened to its source. She saw no camp, but only a stunned Pyroslinger lying on the ground of a path, and a Hydrogunner firing at, to her slight relief, a jacketless, jaded Harbinger. The Fatui Skirmisher either did not understand that he was ruthlessly attacking one of the near-omnipotent Harbingers, or he didn’t care. He clearly wasn’t holding back, in either case. Childe, on the other hand, was dodging more than Lumine had ever seen him do, and he seemed to be quite out of breath. He fired the occasional arrow, seeming only to be barely holding on as he kept to the ridge just above the path through the stalagmites. 

Lumine realized that the Hydro shield was preventing him from making any progress. His vision was rendered useless in this duel. He might have used his Electro Delusion, but with his strength as diminished as it was, Lumine knew that wasn’t an option.

Lumine pushed up the right sleeve of the jacket up her arm, which had been hanging obtrusively due to its oversizedness. Then, she wasted no time in drawing her sword, summoning an Anemo tornado, and blasting it in the skirmisher’s direction. As the Hydrogunner took the hits, she finished him off with a Palm Vortex and a few slashes of her blade.

“Thank you, comrade!” Childe hopped from the ledge and hesitated, giving her a strange look as she gave the Skirmisher a rather spiteful blow across the mask with a swing of her heel. He stared at her, catching his breath, for several seconds before Lumine finally called him out for it.

“The hell you looking at, Harbinger?” she demanded, approaching him. With some effort she tore her eyes away from him. She had not seen him without his jacket before, nor ever nearly this disheveled. The shirt he wore was clinging to his torso, dampened by sweat, and he wore several belts across his midsection that were rather flattering to his figure. From under his collar peeked a chain of a necklace whose charm was hidden beneath the shirt. His hair, ruffled out of its usual place, had a few stray strands clinging to his glistening forehead. 

“My… coat,” he said, and a smile finally reached his face. “You’re still wearing it.”

“Well, you’re the one that put it on me.”

“I know. But I certainly did not expect you to keep it on when you woke up, nor did I put your hands through the arms and clasp the front.”

Lumine fiddled with her sword, attempting to resume a natural composure. “Okay… and?”

“And? You look dazzling, comrade. You’re adorable in it.”

Lumine felt her ears catch fire and she quickly put her hands to the scarf’s tie to undo it so that she could return the jacket to him—and so that he would have no more opportunity to say such a thing. But Childe placed his hand over hers, stopping her.

“Ah—” he said, “you should keep it; I have a high tolerance for the cave chill.”

Lumine found herself to be frozen, only able to think about how much bigger his hand was than hers. The fear she had felt earlier about his absence was now replaced by comfort and significant gratification with his hand on her shoulder. And, well, she couldn’t argue with him, especially because she didn’t want to take off the coat.

He noticed her gaze and apologized with a brief smile, smoothing out some wrinkles in the scarf as if that’s what he was doing all along. His eyes were slightly wide, and averted.

“Why did you leave me?” she asked him, rather accusatively. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “You left me in the ravine. I could have stumbled back into the mud and died. I didn’t know whether you were going to come back.”

He gathered his brows. “I couldn’t sleep.” He looked up at her from under his lashes and tilted his head, looking no different than a pleading puppy. “I didn’t mean to go far..”

Lumine could feel her mouth form a pout as she held back a sudden surge of despair. “Don’t do that again, Harbinger.”

“I’m really sorry, traveler.” His voice was so soft, so genuine, that it was making her chest ache all over again. It was both an unwelcome and desperately needed sound. “I meant to come back in time for you to wake up, so that I could give you a plan for what direction we should take. Falling down here wasn’t part of my plan so I was hoping to give you something to go on.”

Lumine huffed, swiping a tear from her eye as nonchalantly as she could manage. “Why were they attacking you like that?”

Childe shrugged, leaning against the ridge on the side of the path. “Like earlier, these boys didn’t believe me when I had to tell them who I am, and in this pathetic state of frailness, it was really hard to prove it. Something was off with them. It was like they barely knew who they were and what they were fighting for.”

“Is it because of how long they’ve spent down in this pit?”

“But they haven’t spent very long. Only a few weeks, maybe a couple months. My thinking is that it’s…” He gestured to the immense ruined towers hanging from the cave ceiling, and the purple decay beneath them. “The Chasm. Specifically what happened here years ago.”

“Whatever that was.”

“Yes, whatever that was. My thinking is that it’s cursed—or at least, infectious—to the point where reason gives way for radical confusion in the minds of those who linger.”

Lumine let the words settle in her mind, and then her eyes widened. 

It was the Chasm, she thought. 

The Chasm was causing her to feel all these things for the man who was her enemy, causing her to worry for him and feel empty without him. The Chasm, she realized, must be simulating her feelings of infatuation that she would not reasonably feel.

Initially she felt relieved by this idea, knowing that she was insane to be looking at the Eleventh Harbinger in this way. But terror quickly replaced it, for a plethora of reasons. She realized now that she had become infatuated with the Harbinger, very much and very quickly. Such emotion, however unwelcome, was hard to control and harder to ignore. This implied that the curses lurking in the depths of this wretched cave had that much power over her very own motivations. 

“Do you think that makes sense, comrade?” Childe asked her, seemingly unaware of the implications he had released upon her mind.

Lumine nodded. She wondered, from both her actualizing understanding and her overwhelming curiosity, whether it was affecting Childe in the same way—but quickly remembered that he had already favoured her in a way she had not him; whether fancying her or not, he would not have had as far to go to feel the severity what she was feeling now. If it was affecting him, was he experiencing… more infatuation than her?

She could not bring herself to imagine it. She both hated and loved the idea.

“Either way,” Childe continued, still talking of the Fatui’s behaviour, “I do think we should avoid any incidents like that as we’re on our way. Until I’ve recovered more of my strength, of course.”

“And how long will that take?” she asked, still unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh, at this rate… a few days.”

“A few days,” she repeated. She paused. “How long have we been down here?”

“By the cycles of the sun, three days,” he said. “Approximately. Just a guess. Maybe four.”

“We’ve slept twice.” She hesitated. “Well, I’ve slept once.”

“And I none,” he said with a small laugh.

Lumine raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He waved his hand at her. “I’ve gone much longer without sleep on other missions.”

Lumine scoffed. “You call this a mission?”

He blinked at her, and then ran his hand through his hair. “I think the Chasm is getting to me.” He gave a short laugh, but Lumine was unsure whether he was really joking. She hoped he was. She did not want to discuss the possibilities.

“Or your lack of sleep is,” she reminded him, gazing down the path to a place it seemed to narrow into a lower-roofed corridor. “Do we have to stay long in this area? It’s giving me the creeps.”

Childe stretched and stood. “We’ll go that way. If I’m right about where we are, then that should actually take us in just the right direction.”

—

Lumine found that for several hours she could not speak. Her mind was muddied with confusion. Partially, she was caught in a loop of questing which of her thoughts were her own. But she also felt, again, unsafe at Childe’s side. She was debating the possibility of him leading her down here on purpose—for whatever reason, wanting to scramble her mind so that she could not think straight. 

They had entered the smaller passage, which seemed to be a road once popular in ancient days. Along the sides of it were stone pillars made to decorate and perhaps support the cave roof. On some of the walls, she could see, though not understand, some forgotten murals of a strange script, lit by the dimly glowing vines growing over them. The whole area was dimly lit, but lit enough that she could trust each step.

The Chasm was beginning to feel more oppressing with its shrouded histories and unspoken curses. Darkness was more than a haze; it was obscurity mocking her thoughts and feelings and time slipping through her fingers as they walked step after step and hour after hour.

She did not try to make conversation with Childe. She feared that she would say something to give her emotions away. She did prepare for attempts he might put forth into conversation—but was slightly shocked that he made none. They were as silent as the cave around them.

Lumine wondered if she was imagining some hesitation from Childe. As they came across a hilichurl camp—the monsters of which seemed notably overpowered and had an ominous glow—he fought without a word and without a laugh. She did not even see him crack a smile. At first she thought it might be because of the pain he was in from transforming and expending so much power, but knowing Childe, there was more to it. She hated it. It was like he was plotting, or demoralizing, in unnatural silence.

Again she thought it could be the curse of The Chasm. If The Chasm could make her infatuated with her arch enemy, perhaps it could shut him up for a few hours. And yet this explanation did not satisfy her. Concurrently, though, she refused to ask and refused to comment on it.

—

Childe and Lumine passed through an area with a higher ceiling and some abandoned mining structures and crates. Not too much further along the passage, the floor disappeared. A tunnel drove deep into the ground. They could not see any sign of a floor, even after Childe conjured his elemental lantern. Lumine thought it looked endless.

“Well! That’s our road,” Childe declared.

Lumine could have easily trekked down to its unperceived depths with her glider had she not been with Childe. The idea of doing such a thing alone was intimidating. How strange it was to have a companion that didn’t float!

“It feels like we’re just going deeper in,” Lumine muttered, crossing her arms.

“Fear not, comrade! I think we’re getting close!” He brandished his finger out, pointing into the cave’s expansive darkness. Though she knew he could see a bit more than she could, the statement was neither encouraging nor comforting.

“‘Close’ to the lowest point in all of Teyvat?” she sneered. Finally, she was feeling capable of talking to him without her words somehow giving her away. Maybe she had been overreacting earlier, but she was glad she’d held herself back while in that condition.

“Hardly! No, but we’re close to the target. But we had better rest here.”

As they set up a place to rest on one of the abandoned mining structures, Lumine sighed. “You better gimme a cut of the reward.” 

Childe leaned against the cave wall and stretched his shoulders against it. “If you want Mora, you could have asked me for it ages ago. I have quite the savings, you know.”

“I know that. I didn’t think it was Mora, Childe. But there’s something up with this bounty, and I intend to get involved with it.”

“Didn’t know you were that kind.” Childe smirked. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes for long, she noticed. “You after some rare treasure? Is that the influence of that imp you travel with?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I just think I should be compensated for my time.”

He laughed heartily. “Oh, comrade. Ha! If only that was how it worked. You know, you weren’t forced to come down here with me. You can be responsible for your own choices. Though I can’t blame you for seeing an opportunity for adventure and taking it.” He paused. “I think you should stop calling me by my codename, by the way. You calling me ‘Childe’ is… it’s stiff.”

“Why should I care?”

“I just don’t like hearing it from you, traveller. It doesn’t suit our relationship, you know. Especially with how you feel about the Fatui.”

“It doesn’t suit our relationship?” she asked.

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“Well,” she considered, adjusting the red scarf of the jacket, “should I call you Tartaglia instead?”

“Yes, I suppose you could. Though that isn’t my name, either.”

“It isn’t?” She shouldn’t be surprised. But there was little she knew about him, and of this she had needed the reminder.

“Would you… like to know the name my father gave me?”

Lumine told herself she was not curious, but her facial expression gave the truth away to him. 

He smiled. “My father used to tell me stories of heroes. Sometimes they were about himself, and sometimes about others that he, and later I, admired. I was named after one of the latter.”

“And what is that name?” She studied his face, part of her wondering what “heroes” were to Snezhnayans. Furthermore, she found herself speculating on what name could suit him better than Tartaglia.

“The name’s Ajax.” He took a deep breath as if he was preparing for her response. 

Lumine turned the name over in her mind. “Ajax,” she repeated slowly. He didn’t respond immediately, and so Lumine turned her head to see his expression. She had not anticipated seeing his eyes widened back at her and his cheeks dusted with a little more pink than usual. “It’s Ajax, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I—” He broke into a wide smile. “I like how you say it.”

“Am I saying it wrong?”

He shook his head, still smiling to himself. “Not at all. I just haven’t had someone call me that in a long time.” She wondered if he was thinking of his family. “Please refer to me as that from now on, comrade.”

She sucked air through her teeth, tentative about her response. “Then—then you should stop calling me ‘comrade.’ I’m no Fatui.”

“Ha! Then you’ll tell me your name too, mysterious traveller?”

“I guess so.” She found herself also taking a deep breath. She met many people on her journeys and not all of them were willing to ask for her name. In this case, however… she was the one who was hesitant to give it. “My name’s Lumine. And my brother is Aether, though you didn’t ask.” She felt obligated to add on the second part following the dream she had last night. She must not forget her twin in all of this.

Tartaglia did not speak for a moment. His mouth fell open, and then curved into a curious smile. “I should have known,” he finally mused. 

She gazed at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“Your name is beautiful, Lumine. I have not heard it before, but it suits you.”

Lumine nodded. “Thanks. I think.”

“But Aether is a name I have heard before.”

“It is?” Lumine sat up straight. She had been desperate for any sort of intel on her twin, and even after being disappointed over and over again in her journeys through Mondstadt and Liyue, she had hope. She also thought that both The Chasm and the Eleventh Harbinger were very disconnected from the rest of her quests, and so maybe, maybe, he would know something. Or perhaps the dark of the Chasm had revealed it to him…

“Last night, while you were sleeping, you started crying. I couldn’t get you to wake up. You started saying his name—Aether’s name—and… you were yelling ‘no’.”

Lumine’s heart stopped.

“I’m really sorry if I crossed a line last night, but all I could do was just hold you and try to soothe you. You did calm down eventually, and that’s when I left the ravine to clear my head. I’ll admit… I was sort of wondering who he was. I didn’t put two and two together.” He laughed, seemingly to himself. “Thought he might be a lover of yours.”

Her eyes were huge as she tried to form a response. Her lips felt dry, and she wet them with her tongue before she finally said, rather simply, “I was having a nightmare.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Childe said with a chuckle. “Do you… want to talk about it, Lumine?”

“I’d rather not.” Lumine did want to talk about it, but she never spoke of her nightmares to anyone, and the Eleventh Harbinger wouldn’t be an exception. This was necessitated by his involvement in the dream’s circumstances… and the rather humiliating sleep-talking, too. 

“I promise I won’t judge. I get a lot of nightmares, too.”

“How do you get a lot of nightmares if you barely sleep?”

Childe laughed. “I think you know the answer.”

Lumine fumbled with the sleeves of her coat. “You’re not going to recover any of your strength if you don’t sleep.”

“Nah, I will. It will just take longer.”

She huffed. “I can stay up this time if that will make you feel like you can sleep. You need rest, Harbinger.”

Childe’s lips curled mischievously.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” Lumine demanded.

“Hey, I was only going to ask you to tell me a bedtime story! Tch, girlie. You really think I’m that much of a scumbag?”

She scoffed. “A bedtime story? Are you five?”

“Here, look.” He leaned back, crossed his arms, and shut his eyes. “Promise I won’t interrupt. Tell me something exciting.”

Lumine eyed his persisting smile and sighed. He had mentioned that his father used to tell him stories when he was young, so it didn’t feel like the request was out of nowhere. Still…

“Okay…” she acquiesced. “I’ll… I’ll think of something.”

She racked her brain for something that wouldn’t be dangerous for a Fatuus to know about. She wondered if she should tell him about her adventures in Mondsadt with Venti and the knights—or maybe the battle of Osial following the duel in the Golden House. But she realized she could be sure of nothing of her journey through Teyvat being safe to explain, and so instead she started to tell him of her adventures with Aether in the adventures before Teyvat.

She spoke of battles, magic, Gods, and men that nobody in Teyvat knew of. She spoke of loss, of hope, and of progress. Of worlds in which they had been honored as heroic kings and queens, and worlds in which they had been looked down upon and shut out. And she told him that Aether and her had always managed to find each other if their exploits separated them.

Lumine finally went quiet, realizing how much and how long she had talked by the dryness of her mouth. The last time she had spoken this much was distant in her memory. She also realized that Childe now knew the most about her of anyone in all of Teyvat. Perhaps he knew more about her than her own brother, if he indeed hadn’t fallen asleep.

He hadn’t. 

“Tell me more,” he whispered, eyes still closed, but comment suspiciously immediate in breaking the silence.

So she told him more.

author’s note. what do you guys think she told ajax? :) also oopsies i can't have them sulk for too long because when the only two characters in a story aren't talking to each other it is very hard to write anything at all as i have learned

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[razorblade180]

It’s a struggle

Keqing:I got the abyss list.

Aether:Cool let’s hear it. (Given the event banners, I’m sure they’ll match up perfectly.)

Keqing:Cryo Heralds are here so pyro is recommended.

Aether:As expected.

Keqing:Lots of enemies. I’d suggest crowd control.

Aether:…That’s kinda a counter to Yoi but I guess with Kazuha-

Keqing:There’s Anemo resistant enemies; dendro too. It’s the Terror Shroom

Aether:…What?

Keqing:Yeah, but there’s also hydro heralds so dendro has its use. Wouldn’t recommend cryo given previously mentioned enemies.

Aether:So…we’ll go aggravate reactions.

Keqing:The Thunder Manifestation is here.

Aether:Keqing you have brought up a counter to every element in some shape of form except geo.

Keqing:Enemies are kinda tanky. Also the Baptist which generally needs two or three different elements to quickly break its shield.

Aether:…Is there anything else?

Keqing:Consecrated beasts. Hydro and Dendro resistant. There’s also Spectors and the summoning Emerites again.

Aether:…

Keqing:Yeah I’ll be honest. I think we grab our hardest hitters and just push. Perhaps it’s more of test of teamwork and reactions.

Aether:Keqing you described a “fight for your life” plan. There’s a counter pick every floor

Keqing:I know….

[lumen-tellus]

“yeah my brain isnt really focused on rp right now” famous words from flower as she drafts up hypothetical g.enshin rp verses for a character and shoves them on here lmao lmao

me gripping ain like a squeezy toy bc why is my brain LIKE THIS

1st path - AU, potential pre-canon?

an agent of Celestia, at the rank of Richter - he follows their divine will to excise the forbidden and the defiant with the perfect, stoic devotion of a molded servant, even when their voice has been silenced in the event of the Cataclysm of 500 years past.

(the pre-canon aspect can be that Ain was at this stage until the fall of Khaenri’ah, where he was instructed to descend to assist in its annihilation - however, with its violent destruction and vicinity to the Abyss, the resulting chaos flung him deeper into the Abyss where he became trapped.)

2nd path - main, present

a cheerful traveler and an adventurer registered with the Mondstadt branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. he is rarely seen without some appreciation for the world and enjoys helping others whenever he passes by - which can be often enough in the Mondstadt region, which he claims to enjoy the most due its gentle winds and freedom of human will.

fittingly enough, the man appears to sport an Anemo Vision - though there have been very odd stories from drunken patrons that he can use far more than Anemo, like Cryo and Pyro, but those stories also include absurd details like “colorful dancing lights” and “he glowed and grew wings”, so really, maybe they just hit their heads really hard and hallucinated the Anemo Archon in his place, or something.

Ain surely doesn’t correct any of this. why break apart such a silly, but careful illusion of humanity for himself, after all?

(he certainly won’t tell them that they’re not too off the mark - as a former agent of Celestia, who embraced the beauty of mankind when Celestia’s voice was silenced in the wake of Khaenri’ah’s fall.)

3rd path - AU

an agent of Celestia with the misfortune to have become trapped in the Abyss. his unfortunate presence during the fall of Khaenri’ah led to him being flung beyond the borderlands of lawlessness, and with time, its corruption seeped past the cracks of his weakened divinity.

the result is an avatar of the Abyss, superseding the smoldering will of an angel who fell to the growing whispers of doubt and anxiety - and in the process, surrendered to the void and embraced the inevitable oblivion as his salvation.

4th path - AU, still WIP/TBD

an agent of Celestia who has lost the ability to hear its divine will. in maniac desperation, he has bargained for himself a position in the Abyss Order - heralding destruction to the world as to awaken the voices of heaven once more.

that said, due to being a former servant of the divine who is technically still devoted to them—and to mention his off-kilter behavior—he remains at serious odds with the Order. he knows more than anyone that he is but a tool for their means - but similarly, the Order will be his tool to serve his own means, so it’s a mutual disdain, in a way.

[l-capitan]

i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. // hehes

| prompt

There had been a disturbance reported near Zapolyarny Palace, one that reeked of the abyss. Of the Eleven, Tartaglia was the most eager to go on and handle this predicament, destruction ever following its wake. However, Capitano did not find it keen to let it go alone, and without even needing to spare a glance to either Pierro or Pulcinella, silently went along with the youngest of their circle.

It seems that it was prudent of him to do so, as there was a lot more to the disturbance than they had all anticipated. He expected there to only be rifthounds, but no. It wasn’t just the abyss that invaded Snezhnaya, but parts of the Order itself. He could not even begin to fathom the ‘who, what, when, where, how, or why’s, all that it knew was that it’s glad it followed Tartaglia.

Tartaglia is still young. He has no need to exert himself to the point of using his delusion or relying upon the abyss that clung to him. Perhaps the others would complain to him about being ‘too lenient’ on their Vanguard (even though that is far from the truth), but everyone has their limits, even those most formidable. Facing Heralds, Lectors, and Mages…it is bound to take a toll on most, and the Captain wasn’t interested in seeing if, or how, the Order or the young Harbinger’s Legacy would react when faced with one another for too long.

He did not have any qualms regarding Childe’s strength, not one bit. He knows that the ginger was more than capable of taking care of himself and defeating legions of adversaries if he so pleased. However, he didn’t need to. Not today. Especially not when one of the Lectors grew opportunistic and found a way to catch the young Snezhnayan off guard, wounding him in return for the damage done to their numbers.

Admittedly, Capitano was initially intending to simply watch and step in if things were taking too long, until he saw their youngest injured. To Tartaglia, it’s probably nothing, but it is still only mortal.

Thus, summoning his weapon, he stalked towards the remaining numbers and put an end to their farce within a single fell swoop. Within mere seconds, the Order was slaughtered, and reduced to nothing but inky splotches and splatters that stood in stark contrast to the pure white snow of the Cryo Archon’s lands.

Standing amidst the field of carnage, Capitano let out a slow, deep breath from his nose as he pierced the earth with his bloodied claymore. It looked over its shoulder, while a lone cerulean eye glinted through the void of its mask as it took in the sight of the youngest Harbinger.

“Indeed, I did not need to do this. You are a mighty foe, and you could have defeated them all on your own, of that I have no doubt. Yet even you, Tartaglia, Vanguard of the Tsaritsa, are not invincible.

Remember that.”

[gold-rhine]

Hey uhm I don’t wanna be a bother but I stumbled about your posts about Dehya breaking shields and I just wanted to point out that elemental enemy shields are mostly not broken by damage but by elemental reactions and interactions in general.

What I’m trying to say is that the fact that keaya’s normals are better for shield breaking than dehya’s burst is not something that can be affected in any meaningful way by your build since damage is relevant in such a terribly small percentage. I guess it could be noticeable if we were taking about 10 dmg vs 300k but I highly doubt that’s the situation lmaoo. Looking at how the rest of the game works i dare to say it might have more to do with icd and/or the elemental gouge thing.

So yeah idk if you simply didn’t know or you just worded it weird so I hope this doesn’t bother or offend you. Also I ended up blabbering a bit too much, I’m sorry.

ok, i'm not offended (idk even by what) and i don't actually care why kaeya's NAs worked better in that particular case bc i already cleared it, BUT I have to argue on general principle that while yes, the quick application of the right element is what most efficient to break the elemental shields, i cannot agree that damage doesn't meaningfully matter, bc like:

1.i first cleared this abyss with hu tao and let me tell you, breaking the shield was much quicker, despite the speed of attack being roughly close

2.if damage was "relevant in terribly small percentage", then Itto wouldn't be able to break elemental shields with nothing but his raw huge uncensored geo damage, yet he can. like yeah, it takes longer, but not even that long. I can one-rotate herald's shield with pure mono geo team, but not with Dehya, despite pyro obviously being much more effective against cryo, and my Itto doesn't do 300k on hit.

tldr, quick application of right element is most efficient, but damage still matters significantly

tho i don't think elemental gauge means what you think it means, elemental gauge is about how much of elemental aura will be consumed in the reaction depending on which element interacts with it,

in this case of pyro on cryo shield interaction, the interaction is the same. there's not even an elemental aura to gauge to begin with, elemental shields don't work by elemental aura rules, each has their own ranking of how fast different elements can break them

[inyvat]

After everything that has transpired between falling asleep, getting trapped in that dream memory from the ley lines and waking up, Lumine isn't okay. She uses the Windblume festivial as a sort of barrier to hold back the flood of literally everything she saw in that memory.

Granted she was THINKING about it BEFORE the festivial started and it's hard for her NOT to get caught up in the confusion and the agony and the fear. There are times when something moves quickly, too quickly for her eyes to focus on what it is, that she'll get pulled into the memory of her brother's memory.

And she'll momentarily take her brother's place again during the fight with the Cryo Abyss Herald or when the crystal hanging there in above the ground, chained to the ceiling, but still hanging in the air/sky of the unnamed sanctuary speaking to her brother, to HER before someone, probably Paimon or the others in their friend group say something to snap her out of it. Or a flash of light bouncing off a mirror or she catches something in the corner of her eye a pool of water and she has a momentary jump scare or turns pale for a few seconds before coming back to herself.

It's nearly garuanteed that TIGHNARI would more than likely catch on quickly. As her spacing out or turning pale/jumping at glimpse of reflection in a mirror or water isn't exactly normal. He'd probably drag Cyno off and tell him to watch her closely in case something happens to her while they're on their vacation.

All of this new information is a lot for her to take in. And now if there's an abnormal ley line disruption, it makes her worry about the Abyss Order tampering with it and pulling her into another one of her brother's memories. What will she see the next time? She's certainly not ready for whatever that will be. She's barely able to pretend that she's okay in front of her friends.

She knows the next time that it happens, any new information is going to pretty big and she's worried about just how big and how much it'll break her.

[jayisabells]

Okay, so I just watched the 3.5 trailer, and holy shit Dain Quest. I guess we are starting a tradition of seeing Dain every Windblume? I think it was during last Windblume we met Dain for the first time? Also Kaeya, in Sumeru??

Also what the fuck was up with that mirror? Lore brain is taking over, maybe it shows the hillichurls what they used to be (humans), but also shows some truth about the traveler? Or maybe during their time in Khaneri'ah.

Crack theories:-

You are actually not the sibling you chose, but the opposite. You know what I mean? Like body switching or something. I think it's funny, but I feel like it lends well to one if Venti's voicelines saying how the traveler doesn't remember him. As in Venti met the abyss sibling because they travelled Teyvat first, but then they switched bodies??? Also don't forget about Albedo's test tube that had the same residue as he had.

The mirror shows where the traveler was before Teyvat. Maybe their current form is just adapted to look more human? I love myself a good cosmic horror traveler.

The mirror depicts the traveler during their time in Khaneri'ah. This shows whether or not the traveler and their sibling spent an extended time in Khaneri'ah and their people, but somehow the traveler forgot. Maybe the traveler sees themself turning into a hillichurls briefly, but given how things in Teyvat don't work on the traveler, they turn back.

Maybe Paimon is behind the traveler and this somehow shows Paimon in some type of past form? While I don't think it's exactly true, Paimon is the Sustainer? Or maybe a similar situation to Nahida, the Sustainer in this samsara, or just somehow related, but Paimon wasn't the one who attacked the traveler. I love Paimon too much. This spooks the traveler possibly?

-

Also who is the "he" that Dain mentions? The Cryo herald? Kaeya??? Enjou???? The guy we see in the domain (?). Maybe a similar situation to Enjou, a Khaneri'ah scholar that can change forms, but is actually the Cryo Herald.

I am so excited for the Dain quest

[zorkaya-moved]

“i want to break it into pieces small enough to understand.” Pre-discovery plssss

@al-hazen

Zarina always found Al-Haytham as a worthy opponent and an important person to keep by her side. His genius knew no bounds, his potential remained bright and colorful, and his personality allured her quite a bit. A man was akin to a growing tree of Irminsul: powerful, growing, and stable. A proof of one's potential, a proof of one's existence, a proof of her fascination with human nature. He could endure years upon years as his metaphorical roots would reach the depths of history, this world, and this life. Haytham would remain never-changing, stable, calm yet determined and passionate about what he was interested in. What a treat to watch him "obsess" over this discovery; her fascination almost tugged the corners of her lips upwards if not for her study of him. Her new favorite subject was the study of Al-Haytham, a man who caught her attention with his presence alone. How charming his words sounded and how she wanted - similarly yet differently from him - to pick apart what interested her in letting her know the most intimate aspects of another. Would he turn his back on her upon learning of the deepest abyssal winter that lives in her heart? The huntress, the non-believer, the one in control.

His gaze of interest and desire to find something worthy made her far more inquisitive, stepping closer like a curious child who saw something fun for the first time. Her eyes are bright and gleaming, but she doesn't smile yet while listening to his words. He's been at it for a while, eyes sharp like knives or as sharp as a hawk's (reminiscence of the meaning behind her surname while almost drilling the device in front of him. An Abyssal Order's device brought up by the recent expedition into the Chasm, she purchased it from the merchant while traveling in Liyue. The runes and the words on the weapon were ancient, all too ancient to know what exactly was said there. The language of Khaneri'ah, a lost civilization.

"Do you think you can decipher the writings, Al-Haytham?" Zarina brings a chair to sit next to him, studying the intrinsic text with eyes observant and searching. The runes are beautiful, carved by a true master, and she finds them a piece of art. Art isn't well-met in the Akademiya, but her heart longs for that artistic touch and that beauty that is brought into this weapon. Someone truly cared while creating this device, running after an ideal just like they all did. If anything, wasn't the Abyss Order just like them? The mortals, the humans, the ones living on this soil, this land, this plane above the Abyss. Hah, well, it didn't matter. Their technology and approach were quite bewitching; they were fun subjects to study and learn from. "I encountered a similar structure when I was traveling. Let me bring the notes. I found them burned in Mondstadt, but I didn't have the chance to bring it up with you."

Sokolova gets up, leaving the Scribe with the weapon of the Abyss Herald on the table. Abyss Order. She wants to know more about them, as much as she can. Her hands find her research diary from her travels; she doesn't waste time in hurrying back to where Al-Haytham is, placing it down and settling back on her chair. Zarina moves it closer to where the fellow scholar sat, not really caring about their personal spaces intercepting. She bent forward with interest to see what was different and what she could notice from her study over the last couple of months.

"This belonged to a Hydro Herald, so I wonder if it will react with your Dendro Vision. Could you try that? It freezes if I try to use my Cryo Vision, but the blooming reaction might help us notice something different." 

[tabibitto]

Queen of the Ashes | Dainsleif x Reader Part Two (FINAL)

part 1 here

Though his breathe was physically visible in the cold mountains that separated Liyue and Mondstat, it felt warm on his red cheeks and nose.

Dainsleif held his sword tightly in his gloved hand, a fighting stance upon the snow, feet digging into the white and soft ground as he glared at the Lawachurl in front of him. Crystal blue ice decorating his horns, knuckles and knees, snow set still upon his shoulders and messy mane. A deep growl as he puffed his chest and flexed his arms. The cold breathe of cryo making the tall, Khaenri'ahn male shake at how it bit the remaining uncovered skin on his face.

He was wet in blood that did not belong to him. It stuck to his boots and cape, dripped down the edge of his blade.

Dainsleif was foolish enough to follow an abyss herald into Dragonspine where monsters lay in every wake. Only to be led into a trap that proved difficult to wind out of.

He crouched lower to the ground, ready to swing at a moment's notice.

Except, he didn't have to.

The sound of hooves approaching froze them both in their tracks, and as the Lawachurl turned with an animalistic grunt to face the newcomer, just as quickly as his body turned did his head fly right off of it. Blood splattering. Ruining the pure and clean white snow with it's filth.

However Dain did not falter. Not until the hooded figure came into view.

It was a women. The tight black turtleneck hugging her chest area said so. She wore a cape that looked suspiciously like his own. Starred and purple on the inside. Her bare hands nearly matched it's color with how bruised they look. Either from punching a wall or a person.

She rode on a black stallion. Her hands carrying a chain that led to an arrowhead like spiked metal with a ball of what he guessed to be a pyro slime. When it swung, it's flames did too. He could only assume the strength she used to blow the head of a creature much bigger then herself with a weapon like that

The women let out a gasp as she came into view of him and dropped her weapon. Scrambling to reach him so desperately she fell off her horse and on her knees.

Through the gap her mask allowed, he could see a pair of watery, blue eyes.

Wait.

Gently, with shaking fingers she pried it off her face. And he dropped the bloody sword, stumbling backwards as a face he had not seen in 500 years stared back at him, mirroring the expression he wore in the reflection of her eyes

The face that laughed when he did something silly. The face that smiled when he started his shifts with good mornings and ended them with good nights. The face that wallowed in pleasure as he fucked her in the quiet of a night, hand placed over her mouth to avoid being punished for their crime of being in love. A queen was not to have feelings for her queensgaurd. Certainly not invite him into her bed, when she was meant to marry nobles and carry heirs that would inherit the throne she sat on.

He knew this better then anyone. And she knew that he hated it. When she would attend royal balls and political gatherings, and have to stand by like a statue. Watching with angry eyes as men came to offer her marriage, children, gold, luxury. Things he could never give her. The only thing he could give her was his company and comfort. His affections and advice when she needed it.

If she needed him at her side for advice he would be there in the blink of an eye. If she wanted his arms to hold her while she cried in stress and frustration he would without question. If she asked him, with those little puppy eyes and pink cheeks he found so adorable, to be intimate with her, he was already undressing them both.

He was there at her beck and call. His sword was hers his life was hers, his heart was hers forever and ever.

As much as the simplicity of what he could offer as a common man who worked at the Palace of Khaenri’ah, protecting the queen at all hours of the day. Compared to the riches men who sought her power and wealth, his queen claimed that what he thought was so little in comparison to greater men, she saw as the biggest gift anyone could offer.

Of course, he understood her side in this. Emotional trust and love didnt quite compare to material things. Yet sometimes Dainsleif couldn’t help but get…a little jealous and insecure he couldn’t provide the financial stability and wealth others could.

Though this never bothered his sweetheart. She always claimed no matter who would want her hand, he would always have her heart. For this, the comfort and love she gave him to reciprocate what he tried his hardest to give, he would always be indebted to her.

You can only imagine the heartache. When even the protection he swore many years ago when she first was crowned Queen of Khaenri’ah. Could not be given as he held her under crumbling ruins. Could only hold her crying form as the people he too was meant to serve were burned and killed outside the broken entrance.

Could only comfort and make her final moments easier then what many had, until death did they part.

He tried. He really did.

Dainsleif tried to get her away but there was no escape for anyone on that land. He failed his duty in protecting his queen and love. All he could have hoped for was to make her grief less while they waited, helpless for her to be killed for wrongs she tried to right. For being born on the wrong side of the ocean and being unable to control the actions of every human in Khaenri’ah

An impossible thing to ask. He had told her

And for 500 years did he try to make himself believe he did make her death more merciful and kind. When he had woken up in the ruins of the land he once called home and gaurded his queen in. With her body gone, and the bodies and blood of the dead and cursed left behind as history of what once was.

So many times did he try to join his love in the afterlife, knowing she was dead. And could only wander, seek revenge, live until he couldnt. Hunt down the abyss and search for answers. Clear ones.

And yet, here he stood, inches away from the face he had started to forget as time took his memory little by little. Her eyes the same tearful ones as that dreadful day. Except. They held joy he had not seen in so long. They held his own reflection. And he could see tears on him he did not feel.

Dainsleif cast aside the bag he carried slung across his shoulder and tackled the poor women to the ground. Her legs making way for his body to settle between them, wrapping around his hips as she clung to him. Shaking and crying in silence before letting out a loud inhale that broke into a sob.

He could only shakily shush her through his own tears. Just as that day.

Except it was so longer goodbye. It was hello.

A reunion he dreamed of and knew it could never be more then that.

A dream.

One that came true now it seems as he cradled his queens trembling body as she clung to him, repeating with perfect accent the mother tongue he hadnt even spoken himself in so long. Damn near forgetting the language he grew with after 500 years of it not proving any use.

“Your Alive..Your alive your alive your alive” she cried out. Less to him, and more to convince herself this was real as she buried her face into his shoulder, mumbling the same two words over and over until her voice cracked into a whisper from soreness

He sat up with her still attached to him, rocking her on the snow as he made no noise while his tears ran like angry rivers.

At the same time did they part and took each others face in their cold hands.

Dainsleif let out a weak smile and reached down to wipe the sticky wetness between the space of her top lip and nose that came from her nostrils. He saw her eyes widen in embarrassment and immediately swung her head away, which he followed, making her swing it the other way to avoid him seeing the obvious red on her face with a soft whine of protest.

He let out a chuckle, a shaky one at that as he stood up and wordlessly sat her back on the horse.

“W-Wait Don’t Leave—”

She didn’t get to finish as he was already gripping either end of the leather saddle and hopped on right behind her, gripping her waist gently yet firmly.

“Don’t worry my queen, im not leaving you ever again. Not until we actually both die in each others arms.” He whispered to her chuckling in bittersweetness.

She seemed hurt for a small moment and he tilted his head a little in concern.

“I am no longer Queen of Khaenri’ah Ser Dainsleif.” She said both playfully and sadly, using his own former title which, if it was an object. It would have collected mold and dust long ago. Probably already withered away.

The former monarch sighed, glancing into the cold and white of Dragonspine, her eyes flickering from the ruins to the camp of hilichurls. Her former subjects.

Unrecognizable. Different. Their past identities had died along with their country. Now they could merely count the days until their new and dreadful faces withered away too. By time or by sword. Just like she was.

“I am merely a Queen of the Ashes”