#bright gnosis
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musingmelsuinesmelancholy · 5 months ago
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1, and 4, for your ask game
1) As a witch, somebody caught between two worlds- not fully belonging to either one, what anchors you to the physical world?
sorry ancat dubh beat you to this one!
4) Do you attempt to localize your practice? If so, especially if you’re living on colonized land, has that proven difficult?
I’m going to write a longer more thoughtful response to this tomorrow (I have to get up at the ASS CRACK OF DAWN for work tomorrow). In short yes I do and I have grappled with attempting this on colonized land. Every interaction I have with the land feels tinged with some sense of loss or sadness. Even praying to my white ancestors feels a little invasive at times. While I do believe spirits follow people and that spirit are well everywhere it does feel weird to be calling on European spirits here. Learning native history does help as well as reading native authors. I check to ensure a space hasn’t ever been sacred to a tribe before I call a spirit there. I try to forge relationships with plants that colonizers brought here, whether they naturalized like plantain or became invasive like Japanese knotweed. I also try and foster relationships with plants that may have been used by native people but weren’t necessarily sacred, like maple. Reconnecting a bit with my malecite family was SO helpful, even though I couldn’t connect as much as I would’ve liked. One of my spirits I refer to as “lady of the waters of the world” and she is present in multiple cultures, one of which is/was present here. So that has helped a bit. Sorry for the vague and ramble-y answer! I’ll have a better one for you tomorrow 😅😂
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dutybcrne · 1 year ago
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I like to think Furina was human prior to becoming Archon, send post
#hc; furina#//No I will not elaborate#//...#//Ok maybe a lil bit; what if Egeria gave her favorite little opera singer the Gnosis to safeguard before heading to Khaenri'ah#//Bc Furina loved the nation as much as she did; even had her own ideas on how to maintain the nation's strengths#//The Oratrice was Furina's idea of how to preserve Egeria's strength should the goddess fall in the Cataclysm; hence her leaving the gnosi#//In my mind until said otherwise; the Oratrice contains the Gnosis; as Furina does no feel worthy enough to hold it#//It is better used in tandem to Neuvi's strengths; and help run the nation as Egeria would have wanted; she thinks#//Which deffo led Furi to have a massive breakdown after Childe's imprisonment; bc she couldn't comprehend why it would fail#//when it had her Archon's gnosis. And the fact that it DID meant her efforts were flawed and truly Failed her people#//Furi doesn't fault the Oceanids for abandoning Fontaine and her when she ascended to archonhood#//With how much she herself loved Egeria; she would too#//she misses being human so much. But on the bright side; being an Archon means she can better HELP others#//To help her people; to help Neuvillette#//Hell; bc of her functional immortality; she can always be there to stand by him; give him a friend so he'll never be lonely#//That's why she holds onto her role so much; in spite of how hard it gets#//And she will Never step down nor surrender it; not until her dying breath#//Or...a Certain situation calls for it. In which case; she will gladly give it all up
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judahmaccabees · 7 months ago
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A Pilgrim In Paris
Seraphina, a young angel with wings like spun moonlight, gripped the worn leather satchel tighter. Below, the City of Lights shimmered, a mirage in the inky twilight. Yet, as she descended, the scent of brimstone overwhelmed the promised lavender and croissants. Her celestial guide had warned her, "Paris in Gehenna is a cruel mockery of its earthly counterpart." The cobbled streets were slick with a greasy rain, reflecting the grotesque neon signs that advertised forbidden pleasures. Laughter, harsh and grating, echoed from shadowed alleys. Seraphina, her once pristine feathers dusted with soot, pressed on. Her quest: retrieve a sliver of forgotten virtue, a relic rumored to be hidden somewhere in this Parisian parody. Every passerby, with their hollow eyes and mocking smiles, felt like a fresh torment. A harpist strummed a discordant tune, his music a twisted echo of forgotten Parisian waltzes. A woman, her face a canvas of despair, hawked wilted roses, their fragrance acrid. Seraphina finally reached the Seine, its once-sparkling waters now a sluggish, oily black. A hunched figure sat on a broken gargoyle, cradling a dented lute. As Seraphina approached, he strummed a single, melancholic chord. It held a flicker of something pure, a faint echo of the music that once graced the earthly Paris. The man, his eyes filled with a weary kindness, spoke. "You seek solace, seraph, in a city built on ash." Seraphina explained her mission. The man chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Virtue? A relic from a bygone era. But perhaps music," he plucked a single, shimmering string, "a sliver of forgotten beauty, might that suffice?" Tears welled in Seraphina's eyes. It was enough. In that single, pure note, she found a fragment of the city she'd only heard about in celestial whispers. The man smiled, a flicker of warmth breaking through his despair. As dawn broke, casting an anemic light upon the city, Seraphina ascended. Paris, Gehenna's cruel mockery, faded behind her. But in her hand, cradled like a precious jewel, was the music, a testament to a virtue that even the fires of Hell couldn't extinguish.
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lavandulawrites · 1 month ago
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An Escape To Warmer Temperatures
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Yandere Capitano x reader
Yandere Capitano is something else<3 Got this idea while doing the archon quest.
Synopsis: Capitano wants to take you with him to Natlan in search of the pyro gnosis
Masterlist
Warnings: spoilers for 5.1, implied murder, implied violence (not towards the reader), obsessiveness, possessiveness, power imbalance
Word count: 1146
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The Captain was a righteous man. It was a well known fact. He was tall, way above 190 cm and he was as muscular as a god. He had an aura that made one cower before him, even if you didn’t know about his identity as the 1st Harbinger. His love for you was passionate and over consuming. He sat you above all others and he had told you time after time that he would burn down Teyvat for you. It was no secret that Capitano had shed blood for you. Both his own and the blood of others. He never told you, but you had gotten the glance of blood speckles on his clothing after some had sent you a dirty look and you had overheard his lackeys disposing of what remained of a unfortunate man who had bumped into you.
Capitano was a strange man, but there was no doubt about his love for you.
At night he caged you in an gentle, but firm embrace. His strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you close. At first you had resisted, in fear of what he might do to you, but you caved in when you realised he didn’t mean you any harm.
Capitano was no stupid man, quite on the contrary. He knew about the dangers of the world and wanted nothing more than to shield you from said dangers.
The snow storm had lasted for days, almost a week. The wind hammered against the roof and the snow clouded the sky in an endless stream of white. The old hearth was lit and the flames beckoning you closer. You reached out your hands in an attempt to warm them. The flames were bright and looked like a living breathing being.
The polished floor creaked making his presence known. Your eyes remained focused on the fire rather than his imposing figure. His movements stilled and you knew he was waiting for you to say something.
“You are home” you could almost see your breath in the cold air despite the fire before you.
A low hum could be heard from behind you. A heavy fur trimmed coat was laid around your shoulders in an attempt to stop the shivering of your limbs that you hadn’t been aware of.
“We finished early” the black haired captain replied. His hand stayed on your shoulder. “Are there any special reasons as to why it is so terrible cold in here?”
“The heater broke and the firewood was wet” your eyes were still staring into the flames.
The hand on your shoulder moved its thumb in an comforting manner. “Why didn’t you ask the servants to help you?”
“I don’t mind the cold…” your voice low. The truth was that the temperature inside the grand mansion was one of the few things you could control in your life. It was rather childish, but you couldn’t care less.
“I see…” he sighed. The thumb came to a halt. “There is something I have been wanting to discuss with you.”
The Captain often gave you the illusion that you had something to say in the matter of discussion, but it was only that, an illusion. What he said was final. That much you knew.
“Oh. Go on” your voice was devoid of any emotion as your mind raced through all the possibilities of what he wanted to discuss with you.
“I’m going to Natlan in the search of the gnosis” his hand left your shoulder. “And I want you to come with” his words were filled with authority.
You swallowed as your eyes widened. Natlan…. You had never set foot outside of your homeland. And now he wanted you to come with him to Natlan? You almost wanted to laugh. This was really the last thing you had expected to hear from the rigid man.
You turned around to face him. His beloved helmet was nowhere to be seen. What met you were his dark midnight blue eyes that reminded you of the deep Snezhnayan waters that you could see from your bedroom window. His eyes were deep and you felt like you could drown in the endless blues. His star-like pupils stared right back at you with a whirlwind of emotions you could only hope to place.
A scar ran down one of his eyes and you wondered how he had managed to escape with his eye intact. Multiple other scars littered his skin, but the most noticeable save form the one over his eye, were the one straight over his nose. It had faded to a white colour, but you could imagine it must have looked quite bad when he first got it.
Due to his Khaenri'an blood, his skin was filled with blue veins accompanied with black lines that ran through the entirety of his body. His mouth looked rather normal, but when he smiled or sneered it stretched a little too far for a normal human being. Behind his pale lips were sharp teeth that belonged more in the jaws of a hound, rather than a man. His tongue was long, but he rarely made it known.
Despite the curse he suffered from, he was an undeniable handsome man. His beauty was something that greatly unnerved you as he seemed almost like a beast that made itself appear human in order to come closer to its prey. He was unsettling with his imposing height and muscles, yet you found it hard to tear your eyes from his own.
“Do I have a choice?” your voice were meek despite your effort at sounding indifferent.
He huffed and the corner of his lips turned slightly downward as his dark eyebrows furrowed. “No” Capitano��s voice was soft as if he tried to calm you down. It came as no surprise that he had long sensed your inner turmoil.
His large hands cupped your face gently. His thumbs stroking your cheekbones. He stared at you for a while before he pulled you into an embrace. His strong arms caging you in as your face was pressed against his muscular chest. His hand stroked your back and you found yourself getting calmer.
“I think a change of scenery will do you good” the bit that he was incapable of departing from you for a long period of time was left unsaid, yet the words hung heavy in the air. Suddenly the living room felt as hot as the steps of Natlan.
His hand traveled up to your head were it intertwined with your soft locks. His head came down slightly as he inhaled your scent in a rather desperate motion that seemed unfit for the 1st Harbinger.
“Jeg elsker deg [Name]” the words that left his lips were in the national language of his homeland. Though you didn’t know the language, you understood all too well what those words meant.
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Translation
Norwegian → English
Jeg elsker deg = I love you
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brynn-lear · 3 months ago
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Sugar Pills (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)
Questionable Overview: You're getting real tired of Dottore's theatrics. Which is a great shame, considering how it's only now that Capitano learns the value of surface acting and masking. (from my series: #Capitano's So-Called Liability)
CW/Tags: there is no "real" age gaps since this is a Howl's Moving Castle scenario, slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, mild violence. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your mental health first, you matter.
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When coming up with a proposal, you've learned that it's best to approach a harbinger when they're in the middle of an arms race. It's been ages since you've applied this knowledge, but luckily, dusting off memories of yesteryears isn't challenging.
"Can't even spare me a proper welcome?" You yawned, dropping a beaten and dead fatuus just inches away from an unforgettable metal-laced shoe. The sound of their empty vision clunked on the hard floor. "I might not be as much in the spotlight these days, dear, but isn't it good manners to greet your elders properly when they visit?"
The aforementioned shoe brushed the body away. "Hah. You make a terrible habit of flaunting that cosmetic age of yours."
And yet, there you stood, glaring with a smug head up high. No ordinaire can don the demeanor you flaunt in front of the second-ranked harbinger. You'll always keep the cloak-and-dagger act. Dramatics are second nature to those who earn their keep through blood money. You only saw it right to greet him with a more appropriate entrance. Bold and unfaltering in resolve.
"And you have a great habit of looking younger with each passing day," you feigned a chirpy tone. "Isn't that right, Doctor?"
Behind a crow's mask, crimson eyes bore holes into your very being.
Since you received that "birthday present" from him, he had sent out men to secretly nag you behind the Captain's back. They ask you why you haven't taken the medicine at best and attempt to drug you at worst. This rendezvous had been going on for weeks. Enough times that could manifest anger and murderous intent out of you until it did.
After reaching the limit of your patience, you murdered the last person to spike your perfectly fine water, took his vision and portable waypoint, and teleported to his master harbinger's base. Too much work just to get someone to stop pestering you.
The feeling is mutual. Il Dottore— the last of his perspective— also found your presence troublesome.
The second-ranked harbinger spent his "free" time in a painfully bright, pale room. He likes to dub this phase a "recovery state." Typically, there would be plenty of "him" to go around— but striking a deal for a gnosis always beckons a great deal of self-sacrifice. Or self-sacrifice-s. 
Hence why you pushed to visit him this instance. Despite his placid demeanor, you're confident he's eager to prove that there's a method to his madness. Oneself is always the greatest competitor. 
A proper arms race. 
"You know very well that I do not take youth as a compliment," he retorted, though his tone was considerably friendly. He made repeated tapping motions on his armchair, almost impatiently. "What trivial matter have you dared to interrupt my brainstorming session with? Speak now— I'll let you know I'm engaged with matters of greater significance."
"I've done my due diligence of personally replying to your last letter." You glared down at your last victim. "Consider this my thanks."
Without tearing your gaze away, you fished the medicine from your coat and threw it at his chest with all your might. The bottle shattered on the floor.
Greatly "offended" by your rude antics, Dottore defeatedly abandoned his scrawls and turned to properly look at you.
"You decided to skip the pills. How delightfully reckless of you, Granny (Y/n)." He sardonically smiled.
At least he has the decency to name you correctly.
You rolled your eyes as you approached. Once you were just a foot away, you stabbed the corpse's head once more with your cane's pointed base— the force harsh enough to splatter the livor mortis flesh and brain matter on the floor of his beloved laboratory.
What an unnecessarily extreme scene, befitting of your old title.
"I grow tired of your games, Zandik." You spat back. "Must you constantly send your men to make futile attempts to lace my food with your de-aging concoction? I don't appreciate discarding their bodies— much less some perfectly fine meals."
If Capitano were here, he would've made a vague comment about how your value on human life is concerning.
But he doesn't have to know about this interaction.
"You complain about my work, yet I vaguely recall an era in your life in which you'd routinely wake up screaming like a rooster in the morning." Dottore shrugged and pointed to himself. "And who provided you with a cure-all for those night terrors? Go on. I would be enthused to know."
You crossed your arms. The jaded look in your eyes heightened his interest. Hence, Dottore stood up, his footsteps crunching the shattered glass strewn about.
"Let me wager a proper hypothesis for this ...irrational behavior. A possible psychological or existential leaning toward death may be at the root of the patient's ongoing resistance to the recommended treatment." He craned his head like a bird inspecting its prey. "In simpler terms for meager minds like yours to understand: you're not accepting my charity since you wish to die. Is that right?" 
Dottore is a reasonable man. Disarmingly charming, even.
This particular segment just hates you.
You smiled back, returning the same malice.
"Who knows?" You tapped the beak of his mask. "Doesn't matter. I didn't come here to get psycho-analyzed. I came here because I want to strike a deal."
Dottore paused.
"I had a prediction that you would ensnare me with a gambit. No small wonder that Omega has found you a captivating individual, (Y/n)."
Many miss the fact that the good Doctor has a "seductive" air about him. He has a charisma that people will either dismiss in fear or fall victim to. You're part of the secret third group— the coworkers immune to his antics.
"Yes, well, I do pride myself on hosting the best picnics by the meadows of Ardravi Valley." You spoke, voice oozing with the same playful banter you once reserved for his deceased copy. "I've got no abundance in lifespan like you. I'd dare say I'm selling myself at a very limited-time offer."
However, this Dottore was not the one you befriended. This was his murderer.
"Playing the card of wisdom with that appearance may fool the world, but you can't dissuade me." Dottore clicked his tongue. "Are you mimicking Sohreh?"
What a surprisingly plain question.
You shrugged. "Am I?"
Feigning impassivity while he could, the Doctor placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Talk."
"I've only one wish, which is for you to stop being such a nuisance." You scoffed. "What can I do to get you to stop trying to make me your side experiment, Doctor?"
Intuition rarely fails you. You knew that this was a matter that could be reasoned with. The problem is that you needed to figure out what your bargaining chip would be. But by the look on his face, he had already sorted that out minutes, maybe even months, before you arrived.
His hand that once hovered on your shoulder slowly snaked towards your neck.
"I have a proposal," Dottore spoke softly.
You hardened your expression. "Spill."
"I can assist you in experiencing that honorable death you craved so much— at the right time and place." Using his thumb, he applied mild pressure against your throat. "However, I'll need you to befriend the upcoming tourists in Natlan."
You blinked.
… What a strange request.
"Befriend… The tourists?" You grabbed his intrusive hand, yanking it away. "What are you on about?"
"Under favorable circumstances, I would have had a copy extract these, but the old conventional tools are unavailable."
"But why?" You raised an eyebrow. "Dear, I just can't quite wrap my head around why this is the gamble you're betting your chips on—"
"And that is precisely why The Tsaritsa dubbed you La Ruffiana and not a respectable title," Dottore smirked, chuckling lowly. "Hence, I'll gladly elucidate you with brief guide questions in a language you're sure to comprehend."
"I'd rather we both save time by revealing the answer, pronto."
Since you had forgotten to let go of his wrist, he used your grip to pull you closer to him.
"Tell me, (Y/n), during the Sumeru fiasco…" With faces just inches away from each other, he tilted and teased your ear with his breath. "Who, indeed, served as the paramount subject in my quest to engineer a being that transcends even the might of the archons?"
… Who?
You placed a hand on his chin to create a respectable distance. "Child, I really hate to say this, but the world doesn't just spin around you and your little experiments. I wouldn't know a thing about that poor, nameless puppet you're on about. But if I had to take a wild guess, you're talking about that man you went and turned into a sorry excuse for an All-Knowing God, aren't you?"
Dottore grinned, baring his sharp teeth.
"I perceive that our memories from that period have been tampered with. Nevertheless, your hypothesis remains merely superficial. There exists an individual whom I regard as the genuine subject of this experiment. Would you toss one last conjecture?"
You let out a strangled air, unable to properly articulate your disbelief.
It's the traveler. Of course, it's her.
Dottore aspires to transform humans into gods, yet his attempts have thus far been in vain. Save for one young woman who sought refuge in both Mondstadt and Sumeru, all subjects have perished during testing. In your days as a harbinger, you've watched others toil over the vulneraries and prosthetics the Doctor would jam into them. Your visit to certain hospitals by the desert is your testimony to his apathy. He is driven by relentless curiosity, never pausing for the ethical implications of his research, but would spend hours on the feasibility of his experiments.
You were relieved when you heard he used an inorganic lifeform in his last experiment. But if that was a mere dud, then…
"Don't tell me— all this time, your real goal revolved around how the traveler could ascend into Godhood?" You gawked. "So whatever that puppet was, is nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy in failure? Your experiments in blasphemy will always find new ways to make me utterly sick."
You flinched as Dottore caressed your cheek. It wasn't the contact that shocked you.
It was the respect in his eyes.
"Hmm... About a year ago, you'd make conscious efforts to bite your tongue. I must remark that I am fascinated with the concerning spike of confidence your senile age brings."
"Things change." You mocked him. "You should try growing older. About a year ago, I wouldn't have this deal with you, too."
With that, the verbal contract was set into motion.
"We'll keep in touch."
He pulled away.
You scoffed. "If I believed in Celestia, I would've prayed you'd become a decent person."
"How unfortunate that you'll need a stronger God to achieve that ambition," Dottore laughed. "And materializing a stronger God is precisely part of my current objectives."
This heretic.
"I see now why you and Capitano are far too different to be colleagues."
You glared.
"Have your glory. You may receive everything— the ego in victory— the spoils of war. Celestia may even watch you steal the blessings of ascension. But you have no honor. You live with no happiness."
You grumbled while you walked away. The erratic sound of your cane reflected the rhythm of your anger and disgust. Before you left, you gave him one high note to end on.
"You dance with no music."
As soon as you were out of the vicinity, Dottore quickly returned to his near-incoherent scrawling.
"I'd rather be a fool who performs for no one," he grinned, his stomach tucking in from stifled laughter. "Than a blabbering grandmother scared of sugar pills."
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"(Y/N)!!!"
Upon your supposedly quiet return to the inn, you were greeted by a pair of large hands squeezing your cheeks with trembling worry.
"I told you to call me Granny—"
"Where have you been?!" He tilted your head, inspecting for wounds like an incompetent father. His strength would usually cause grief, but you've grown used to this. It's a sensation that's hard to hate.
His hands are rough but not unkind.
"When I awoke, I realized you were not in your room." He spoke, evident that he was reeling himself from rambling. Been a long while since you saw his long and gorgeous hair this messy. "Had I not instructed you not to wander alone without one of our men at your side."
The inn's staff whispered among themselves while his men stiffly avoided gazing at you two. You cringe at everyone's bloodshot eyes. There's more room to pity the Natlan locals— they didn't ask to be involved. Capitano ordered a search party this late on your behalf when there was zero need for it. The attention was getting embarrassing.
You should've known that he'd notice your absence.
Damn it. You were barely gone for half an hour.
"Steel yourself, child. I don't need your men to coddle me." Months have passed, and he has yet to accept that you do not have a respectable position as a personal assistant. "I can wander around Natlan as safe as I please, kid. Are you seriously doubting my strength?"
That dirty tactic sobered him up.
"You know that isn't so." Capitano sighed, letting you go. "I know you're plenty capable, however..."
"Need I remind you that before the incident, I was originally the Harbinger tasked with retrieving the pyro gnosis?" You shook your head, feigning disappointment. "You should know by now that I've studied this place's typography and wildlife. No encounter could shock and harm me— even with these old bones."
"It's precisely why I worry over you," Capitano glared slightly. "With your curse, you could've been marked by foes out there."
"I didn't go anywhere far. I was just sightseeing."
"That explanation doesn't wash. I saw the glow of a portable waypoint when you came back."
�� How observant. That's the first ranked harbinger for ya, you supposed.
"Okay, maybe I went home for a bit, so what?" You pouted. "It's a bit too warm in here for my liking."
The inn's staff immediately froze up.
"N-Not that it's bad, of course!" You laughed nervously. Ah, shit, let's not involve them. "It's my fault 'cause I didn't raise that concern with them. Old ladies such as myself are so stubborn. Hmm, hmm!"
Gradually, Capitano relaxed.
"I understand. At least, I'll choose to understand your fib for now."
"Not quite out of the cage yet, am I?" You joked.
"Not at all." Capitano exhaled softly, a hand barely covering his gentle smile. His voice made it painfully apparent that you're off the hook.
He's such a terrible liar.
Before you could comment on this, Capitano reached out his hand.
"Come with me." He wagged his fingers towards him, beckoning you to come closer. "Let's continue our conversation somewhere private."
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Out of the 11 harbingers and those who had come and gone, you know Capitano the most.
"I didn't realize Natlan nights can be cold." You spoke thoughtlessly.
He stared at you blankly. "Cold enough to prevent you from running back home, clearly."
"Ah."
And likewise, he knows you best as well.
You digressed in an instant. "Why did you bring me here, Little Captain?"
You stood by a cliff, staring at the quiet night in the humble town. There's a noticeable increase of guards on patrol since the Fatui arrived in Natlan, but with Capitano as the lead, you saw no reason for their alarm. Obviously, Capitano didn't bring you here to make that observation. Judging from how his stare is on the ground and not the beautiful sight, public perception is pushed at the back of his mind.
"Your cane…" He whispered.
"What about it?"
"You forgot to wash the blood away."
Inspecting the cane without lifting it, you realize what he meant.
"Oh."
"Who was it?" His voice sounded a bit more stern.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Who was what?"
There was a shift in the air.
"Who attacked you?"
You laughed uncontrollably.
"W-What?! Pfft— puh-lease! No one attacked me." You poked his helmet. He stared you down, unamused. "No-bo-dy."
Capitano has yet to let his anger go. He spoke steadily, but he wasn't fooling you. "I'll ask once more: who attacked you?"
"Don't tell me your memory is worse than this old lady's," you clicked your tongue. "I just told you, it's nobody."
Capitano shifted his foot down slightly. "Elena reported that you were assaulting a fatuus with your cane in an isolated dining area."
Curses. You thought you were alone. To be caught by Elena, of all people? Your senses must be dulling.
"Well, one of your men— I suppose— was disrespecting their elders."
"I ordered a headcount. None of my men have gone missing." Capitano crossed his arms. "Besides, they know better than aggravating my most prized assistant."
Should've known that lie won't fly.
"Okay, maybe it wasn't one of your men." Obviously it was Dottore's, but you bit your tongue. "But you should know I'm a polarizing figure in the Fatui. I heard someone say that getting rid of me is a noble act cause they'd be removing your right from employing an absolute loser."
"(Y/n), where did you get those ideas?"
Honestly? Straight out of your 'lovely' imagination. If not inspired by Pantalone's past remarks as well— just cruder.
It’s almost commendable how easy it is to assume everyone is out to get you. The work environment certainly helps. A strange grin or remark is sufficient to validate any doubts. Probably illogical for you to live life this way. You're aware enough that not every whisper is about you and that not every grin hides some hidden agenda, yet the uncertainties still seep in so effortlessly that it almost seems like breathing.
You've yet to find someone who will prove your inherent distrust wrong. That body you hurled at Dottore earlier was no exception.
"Whoever attacked me doesn't matter; I got rid of them."
"I know you did. I don't reserve any doubt whatsoever. That is not the issue at hand." Capitano shook his head, his last words hiding a slight growl. "What I am perturbed by is how you had hidden this from me."
Your eyes widened.
"I-I'm sorry, forgive me, Capitano." You fumbled. "It was genuinely not as big as you think it is. A traitor was in the mist, and I took care of it."
"You were targeted, (Y/n)," Capitano said, nearly whispering as he gently took your hands. No matter how callous he was or how much his skin resembled etched maps, they held yours with great care.
His eyelids drooped slightly, hiding unspoken grief. "You were attacked when I made an oath that I would protect you while you are under my care..."
Capitano's tone softened further, almost withdrawn from hurt.
"I should have been there..."
You've never been one to immediately process emotions in a snap. When you and Capitano share ideas, theories intersect like constellations on Teyvat nights. But that look in his eye? You can't read what he's thinking.
"Why do you fret over it, dearie? Death is but a doorbell away for me." You hummed with a wide smile. "I'll be claimed soon enough. Maybe tonight might even be the night. Oh, honey, it's no skin off the Tsaritsa's back if an old gal like me bites the dust."
You have a feeling you said the worst thing imaginable at that moment.
Capitano said nothing.
In fact, you'd wager that was on purpose.
There's a glint in his eye. A look that you couldn't place— a dangerous thought you can't hear. It ringed endlessly in his ears, and the slight tremor in his fingertips proved it. His blue eyes stared straight into your soul.
A revelation. An epiphany. A newfound raison d'etre that he refused to let anyone know— you specifically.
Something about him drastically changed.
But that look vanished in an instant.
Capitano's mouth curled upward.
The smile did not reach his eyes. 
"I prefer if it's kind sleep who takes you tonight," Capitano muttered. "Death is far too early for a woman like you."
"A woman like me?" You chuckled. "You meant grandmother, right? And what do you mean by that?"
"A woman like you deserves all the time in the world, not to be taken prematurely. Your spirit is far too bright to be dimmed so soon." He took off his cloak. "Because a woman like you is a woman loved by many."
Capitano wrapped his cloak around you before you realized it. As you looked down, you noticed how much larger his frame was than yours. The cloak reached the floor when you donned it. Though it was night, the cologne he put on reminded you of sun-drenched clothes and steel— but it's possible that this was just Capitano's natural scent.
"I should add cloaks as an interest for your late birthday present." You could practically hear the smile on his face as he said, "It suits you."
Something about the way he sounded was way off now.
The weariness from your conversations with Dottore seemingly washed away. You grabbed a fistful of the cloak and raised it. "I think every tailor in Teyvat would beg to differ."
Capitano chuckled. "Respectfully, they wouldn't know any better."
"And you do?" You raised an eyebrow, but that grin on your face is too difficult to wipe off. "I don't think you know me well, little Captain."
You continued.
"Anyone can learn to like me, but to love me…"
Is devastating.
You trailed off, eyes back on the quiet streets. You've always admired those who teased on the edge of retirement and eternal sleep, their bravery surpassing the young's. They act on reckless abandon, unburdened by the opinions of others. Alice saw this in you, and she knew— deep in her heart— that she'd be more than willing to help you embrace that freedom in whatever form that may take.
Since you became a "grandmother", seemingly everything and nothing has changed. You've pushed away those who pretended to care, only to find that no soul can stand to be with you. Maybe it was a glorious boon or just as the witch said— a desperate cry for help, nothing more. The experience so far taught you things you already knew you hated about yourself that you wondered if this were all for the sake of mastery. Have you destroyed yourself for nothing? Who knows. But you'll continue to take solace that maybe, just maybe, death may end the loneliness you've endured for so long.
But if you so badly chase for death…
"████████."
You looked at him.
"Can I ask for a favor?"
You're going to do it right.
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Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa
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nihilityuniverse · 4 months ago
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𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...
ENG is not my First language
I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.
Do NOT Repost
Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏
𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨
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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.
A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.
The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.
The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;
A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.
Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.
Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.
Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.
What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.
"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."
"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."
"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."
"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.
"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.
"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.
He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"
Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."
The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 
A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.
Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 
The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.
This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.
As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.
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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.
Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 
As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.
With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.
Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.
You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 
"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."
"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.
After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?
You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."
Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.
Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 
"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 
He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.
If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.
"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.
"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 
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A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.
The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.
His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.
"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.
You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.
"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.
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The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.
"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."
After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.
The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.
"Absolute peace."
As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.
"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.
"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."
"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.
As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...
You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.
Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.
Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.
"Another Memory..."
"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.
"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 
"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.
"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 
Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.
"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.
Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.
"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."
The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.
"...and weep for the departed."
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A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...
"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.
He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.
Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.
One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.
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Reblog if you like this story
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santsukii · 5 months ago
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ᯓ✿ say you love me
ˋ°•*⁀➷ anemo boys falling for you (alt angst version here)
ˋ°•*⁀➷ venti, xiao, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou, wanderer x gn! reader
₊˚ character story spoilers, this is more or less just an excuse to write the silly little scenarios in my head involving these boys, some more angsty than others but it’s like 90% fluff
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it’s not as if venti were completely oblivious to his own emotions, he understands what’s going on when he notices his heart fluttering when you’re around. when you smiled at him, it was as if his heart were beating right out of his chest. his music so clearly and beautifully graced the air, drowning out his own whispered confession of love. if he were to say it loud enough for you ears to pick up, how would you look back at him? as if fate itself were turning its head and laughing at him for falling so helplessly in love with someone he only considered a friend until recently.
to all but the archon himself, such melancholy tunes played on his lyre while sitting on the hands of a statue made in his likeness were simply meaningless and carried little to no weight whatsoever. the sky was clear, allowing him to gaze ever so wistfully at the constellations in the night sky as he thinks of you. maybe he’d find yours, reaching up and tracing the connections of the brightly shining stars with his finger. he knows he’s nothing more than a god fallen from grace, and not even you knew of the gnosis that had been taken from him. venti’s heart ached at the idea that he may never be able to scream out his love for you due to his own doubts.
yet right now, in the dead of night, he could sing of the love residing deep within his ever-beating heart. with a final song to confess to the night sky, he sings and plays so softly that it’s difficult to hear. even with that, his voice is so soothing and comforting as he sings out the love that had plagued him for a long time now. as he finished his song, he noticed the smallest amount of tears dripping from his face as he finally let out the pent-up emotions. even if he presumed you were far away, he hopelessly hoped that his voice would reach you. your beautiful smile and laugh were etched in the archon’s heart, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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if xiao met the same fate as those he once held dear, he hoped he could at least let out his love for you. it brings him peace that he can protect you as the last yaksha of liyue. he often finds himself separate from society for their own sake, his karmic debt often drawing closer the demons he swore to kill. yet, you stayed close to him despite the immediate danger you often faced. sometimes, he would find the tears pricking at his golden eyes as he reminisces the life he wished he could have lived with you. it would have been a peaceful life full of happiness and love beyond compare, surrounded by his fellow yaksha.
even with that, the light of your smile never passed him by. silently watching over you from afar during the lantern rite, he was torn. xiao wanted nothing more than to join you in the crowd, but what if you got separated from him? would he have the courage to hold your hand? those doubts landed him sitting atop a building and watching from a distance, silently hoping you’d turn around and notice his affectionate observations. as hundreds of lanterns gently floated into the air, he found himself once again fighting the urge to join you in the crowd. it would only be a matter of time before the fireworks begun, maybe then he’d have the opportunity to stand beside you and welcome in a new year.
in the bitter cold of the night air as the first of the fireworks exploded into the inky dark sky, you saw him next to you. xiao smiled gently, not saying a word as the landscape was illuminated with the bright and lively colors of the fireworks. his hand in yours, welcoming a new year together with a kiss. the one thing that couldn’t be heard beneath the explosions of color that could outshine the brightest star was his voice, saying three words he never thought he’d say again. “i love you”
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he had fallen for you without a care in the world, allowing it to grow as the days go by for no reason besides the idea that he has nothing to lose by falling for you. kazuha’s heart felt as if it were bursting with love and passion whenever he looked at you. it was a whirlwind type of romance, one in which both parties involved were constantly sharing knowing glances and giggles, overly affectionate with a passion that will surely burn itself out if given enough time.
but it didn’t. he never once doubted his love for you, in fact he was quite open about it. it was bound to make others jealous, the way he was constantly sending letters with gifts when he was away on various travels. whenever kazuha was away from you, he found himself missing you exponentially more as the days went by. oftentimes, he only wanted to return to the place he belonged, in your arms. he doesn’t really enjoy being all alone, so he’d take your hand and hold it ever so tightly. you’ve always been what guides him and gives him peace of mind. your smile was like a guiding star in the darkest of nights, always there to light the way despite the circumstances.
kazuha never truly “confessed”. his actions alone indicated his love for you, and he one day just began saying he loved you. it came so naturally to him that he could never overthink it, like a second nature. those three words flowed so naturally out of his mouth with that beautiful and soft voice of his, it just felt right. what began as simply a lighthearted summer romance had quickly grown into a love that would stand the rest of time, despite any struggles the two of you may face. if nothing else, you’d face it together.
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heizou is a naturally flirty person, using that to his advantage to conceal his true feelings for you. being a detective, he was naturally able to read people, yet he could never truly understand what was going on behind those eyes of yours. really, it was such a nuisance to hold these feelings in. alas, it was a hinderance to his work. sometimes he wondered if you could hear his heart beating out of his chest whenever you were around, surely it wouldn’t take much to realize what’s going on here. he’d need for you to simply let him in and he’d be the happiest man in teyvat.
it really doesn’t take a detective to figure out he loved you, it was quite obvious really. how many words at minimum would it take for you to notice his love? even with heizou attempting to hide the feelings in his heart, the summer days spent with you made his feelings soar. sitting on the beach and watching the sunset together, he really couldn’t be happier. he knew he was helplessly in love with you, warmth creeping onto his face every time you smiled or laughed because of him.
so here he was, singing and dancing in the warm sand with you under the sun’s fading light. the crashing of the waves on the shore drowned out your voices, but he hadn’t a care in the world. with his hands in yours, your laugh as the both of you fell into the cool water, he couldn’t be happier. even if both your clothes were now wet, you didn’t care even one bit as his lips met yours.
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ever since the day he met you, he feigned indifference and rudeness to hide his feelings for you. he was a perfect example of using his naturally intimidating demeanor to hide the love he held for you. a puppet made without a heart, you had given him all the more reason to continue living. the nameless wanderer was so into you that he couldn’t help but smile to himself after any interaction with you. of course, he wouldn’t be caught dead smiling over you. just like magic, he was immediately done in by you without your knowledge.
he wanted to hate you as much as he pretended he did, that much was true. even after he warmed up to your presence, he wanted to stop acting like his true self around you. he wished he could just shut you out again, yet he couldn’t stop wondering if you felt the same. he assumed you did, based solely off of your words and actions without even the slightest verbal proof. with every single touch of his puppet body, his heart beat out of his artificial chest. maybe he had known you in his past life, maybe his heart broke knowing you wouldn’t remember him.
yet, you seemed to love him in every iteration of his life. he knew it all along, he said as he held your hands and forced himself to confess. the more he tried to fill the metaphorical gap between you, the more he unintentionally forced himself away. sure, he’d admit that he was greedy for your love. it wasn’t that bad to be in love, was it? under a beautiful tree surrounded by colorful flowers, he had his first kiss. hundreds of years living, but you were the only one he ever seemed to want to be around. angry looks and scoffs had been replaced with smiles despite all odds.
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eluxcastar · 8 months ago
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Hello Riri! :]
I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!
Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.
And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.
(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)
Fatui harbingers with a child god
── ୨୧:fatui harbingers & reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing
୨୧﹑genre :: fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread
୨୧﹑words :: 3k
this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER
I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh
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There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.
Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.
It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.
You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.
She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.
It is as you are.
Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.
His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.
"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"
"May I?"
And with that, you take his offering.
Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.
Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 
"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."
"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"
Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.
Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.
Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.
"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."
"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."
Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.
She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.
"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"
"Isn't that what was offered to you?"
"Well...yes, thank you."
Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.
He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.
"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."
"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."
Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.
Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.
"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."
"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."
"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."
Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.
Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.
Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.
Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.
"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."
"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."
Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.
Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.
"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"
"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."
Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 
You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.
Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.
It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.
You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.
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czortofbaldmountain · 10 months ago
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The Name of Lucifer
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Always Rising
The passage in Isaiah that became associated with the fallen angel speaks of the bright Morningstar explicitly as a Fallen Star as well, fallen due to his pride that led him to rise against God himself. The fragment is explicitly not about our Lucifer - but this is essentially how he's seen in Christianity (and where the Isaiah association generally ends).
Challenging God is something that certainly demands extraordinary courage. The consequences Lucifer suffered were painful. And yet, the dawn always rises again, and so does the Morningstar, persistent and unbroken. Thus, Lucifer's name can be linked to those qualities, as well as to hope, rebirth and new beginnings.
The Star of Venus
As the church considered it sinful, sex became naturally associated with Lucifer. Later, when the Romantic Satanists began to reclaim his and Satan's symbolism - whether treating them separately or as one entity - they reevaluated this association more positively.
The reason why I'm talking about it here is that it coincides perfectly with the Morningstar being the planet Venus in both astrology and various religions connected with love and eroticism.
In my experience, the planet's association with various kinds of love, not just romantic and sexual, mirrors Lucifer's nature as well.
Light of Intellect
Lucifer is, of course, also a spirit of intellect whose light can be understood in connection to that as well. As the Serpent and ever further, they are encouraging us to question, to practice critical thinking, to learn and reflect.
Light of Gnosis
Not necessarily about Gnosticism, gnosis is spiritual knowledge acquired in personal experience. It is subjective, of course, but beautiful. In a more spiritual interpretation of the Eden myth, the knowledge Lucifer the Serpent opens the way to is gnosis.
Note - you might have heard the term UPG. In the spiritual context, it stands for unverified personal gnosis. While, in my opinion, personal gnosis would be enough - it's always unverified, in the end - the term helps us coexist while understanding things in our own ways.
The Warmth
There's another, deeply personal way I've experienced the light Lucifer brings - the light of comfort that shines in the dark, the sweet flame warming me when I need support.
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There are certainly more ways you can interpret Lucifer's name! Do you have your own?
Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
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madam-kumo · 3 months ago
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Hold Me Again
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Sagau Dainslief x Female Creator Reader
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"What... Stop!" Aether screamed and kicked at the ice holding him away as Lumine handed the final gnosis to the Cryo Archon, the final key to unlocking Celestia. Aether felt betrayed, like his sister stabbed him in the heart herself, but the ice shackles on his arms and ankles kept him from moving. "Please, she'll-" Aether was interrupted by his sister staring at him with pity or was it sympathy? "Trust me. Just this once." Lumine stated, but it sounded more like a beg than a command, her voice cracking and her expression saddened.
"I did not want to awaken Celestia this way with you, Aether, but it must be done." The tsaritsa said, standing from her throne and descending down the stairs, the line of the fatui harbingers lined along the long carpet that spanned across the room. The Tsaritsa, all seven gnosis's in hand, let them all float in her palm, all of them forming a circle of elemental symbols around her feet.
Every element in teyvat, even the long forgotten ones, created gliffs around her before expanding into pillars, each glowing their signature color. Aether knew he had to trust his sister with the look in her eyes alone, but he didn't want to. Gods, all that work for nothing. Every fatui and abyssal he fought- was all for nothing.
The pillars around the Tsaritsa then let out beams of light through the transparent roof of the palace, illuminating the heavens. Soon, as if an image dispersed, the once old- no, the true- Teyvat began to slowly mend and combine with the world around them. Kheanri'ahn symbols began to appear on the palace as the spirits of Kheanri'ah's forgotten people began appearing with bright smiles on their faces, some on their knees in prayer around the palace. They smiled as their home began molding to the new Teyvat around them. Mixes of both world combined into a beautiful display.
Books and letters in Kheanri'ahn lined the walls of the Cryo palace, like a mystical library. Astrology tools and stars glimmered even in the snowing skies of Snezhnaya. The harbingers too looked around in awe, even the stoic Arlecchino couldn't keep the wonder and amazement off her face.
The Tsaritsa's magic finally let go of Aether as her concentrations was focused on the place that was once her throne. A large, crystal structure was placed in the center of it all. The light blue casted a translucent haze over the figure of a woman inside. The Tsaritsa, as if touching glass, wiped the frost off the glass, revealing the face she had seen in her dreams so many times, begging the archon to release her from her slumber. Aether was seated on the floor looking around the place he thought was going to be his final battle; now turned into the place he once called a home. Lumine hugged him with tears of joy in her eyes, thanking him between laughs for trusting her again. Aether was speechless; what could he say?
His thoughts were interrupted when the doors to the palace and library slammed open, revealing a disheveled and beaten Dainslief. Lumine looked at the man in pity, but he didn't even look at them. The Tsaritsa, surprisingly so, moved aside from the crystal structure, allowing the Kheanri'ahn man to approach with wide eyes and his mouth agape. The diamond shaped jewel on his suit, one akin to a vision, for the first time in centuries, pulsed with a deep blue glow. Dainslief, without missing a beat, placed his hand on the crystal, right above the figure's heart. His palm began to glow and the crystal began to fade away. The woman's finger twitched as it was revealed to everyone in the room. Even the Kheanri'ahn spirits looked on in awe as the crystal slowly recede.
Simultaneously, the twins' eyes widened as the face of the woman was revealed. They rushed over, hand in hand, to help Dainslief hold the collapsing woman and guide her onto the cold floor. A quick snap of the Tsaritsa and Tartaglia was already rushing to grab a pillow and some blankets while Columbina grabbed food and water.
The woman's eyes slowly opened to be greeted by two golden pairs and another pair of blue, all of them with blonde hair. Her mind was in a daze, her vision still hazy. she was propped up on Dainslief lap as his tears began dripping onto her face. As if by instinct, her shaky, cold hands reached up to wipe the tears from his face. "Why... are you crying, my love?" She asked, her voice hoarse from centuries of not using it.
"Do not fret my dear, my goddess, my light, the air I breathe... how am I not to cry when I have missed you so?" Dainslief wept, before biting his lip and holding the hand on his face, he knew she would weep for centuries over the loss of her beloved city, but he needed her touch right now. That's all it took for the twins to join in, Lumine on one side of her while Aether cried into the other. "Do not cry... This is a time to celebrate... Not to drown in tears..." she murmured to them, retracting her hand from Dainslief to run her nails through the twins' hair. Lumine wept into her chest, her shoulders shaking, while Aether shook his head while covering his face in her stomach. "You were gone for so long... How could be not be to the point of tears?" Dainslief said, taking the words right out of Aether's mouth.
She laughed hoarsely, resting the back of her head against Dainslief's chest. "Yes... But if you are to weep, please... Let me hold you all, even if I run out of arms to do so..."
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iceunhie · 10 months ago
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˗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
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“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.
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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.
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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.)
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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.
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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months ago
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Just remembered the fallen god reader thingy- what if reader just one day regains their power ;)) and then just leaves them, I'm like super offended ;(( I dont wanna be mistreated by them
ahaha this ask made me chuckle a little! unfortunately my version of yandere archons aren't sweet in every scenario, i do still hope you enjoy though! :D
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of being held against ones will, mentions of manipulation, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Venti:
Well, he certainly can’t just let you leave, not after all that hard work he put into nursing you back to health. No no, don’t you see, you owe him. You could try and claim he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, I mean he’s an Archon, a god just like you, doesn’t he see how unjust it is to demand payment?
You could beg and plead all you want, but unless your powers are enough to break the elemental barriers he’s set up, then I’m afraid you’re trapped. He won’t mistreat you, he’ll be nice and sweet to you so long as you behave, but your freedom will forever be removed.
“It’s not fair you say? A lot of things in this world aren’t fair, it’s just how it is.” His bright smile and humorous laugh do little to settle your unrest. No matter how hard you begged, how fast the tears poured from your eyes, or how strained your voice became from constant pleading, nothing worked. Perhaps if you learned to behave he’d let you see the sun again, until then, think long and well about all he had done for you. Remember exactly just how much you owe him for the things he’s done for you.
Zhongli:
He finds it curious that your powers have suddenly returned, but it does little to change his authority over you. Regardless of the strength you show or possess, Zhongli has ingrained into your mind just how weak and pathetic you are. You are nothing without him, your silly little powers mean nothing if you aren’t here with him. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see that you need him?
There’s little that would change about the dynamic between the two of you, if anything it just gives Zhongli an excuse to be around you more. His eyes seem to always be observing you now, watching keenly to ensure you don’t dare step out of line. There will be consequences if you should try.
“Dinner is done, come eat.” His tone is warm, but there’s a familiar sense of sternness in the undertone. Since the resurgence of your powers, Zhongli had made sure to remind you of your place below him. It didn’t matter how hard you fought, the elder god showed little remorse when overpowering you. It was astounding to think that even after the loss of his gnosis he could still hold such power over you, but then again, Morax wasn’t known as the War God for nothing.
Raiden:
She doesn’t believe you at first, those who lose their divinity are not simply granted it back. It would take a long while and many displays of your capabilities to convince her. It doesn’t much change her opinion of you though. Raiden still thinks you are foolish and weak to have lost your powers to begin with. And for that, you should suffer the consequences.
Every escape attempt or effort put in to fight back is quickly shut down. She doesn’t even let you build up the hope that you’ll be able to land a hit before she’s got you disarmed, pinned, and once more shown your place beneath her. It gets a bit frustrating, having to always correct your silly outburst.
“When will you learn that you are nothing compared to me? You should be grateful I have enough decency to put up with this behavior, if you were anyone else I’d have tossed you to the streets like the pathetic waste you seem keen on acting like.” Her words are as rough and painful as her hold on you is. She has you under her, pinned to the floor in the living room of her home. It’s an embarrassing sight, your face held down to the hardwood as she scolds you like a child. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Raiden had hoped that by now you’d have learned your lesson. She is getting incredibly fed up with you.
Furina:
Your return of power puts her in a tough position because before when you were powerless, she had something to hold over your head. Now, you hold the power and she’s left to flounder.
There isn’t much she can do to keep you from leaving, sobbing on her knees as you walk towards the front door. It wasn’t fair, it wasn't fair that you got to get back what you lost, it wasn’t fair that you got to still be connected to divinity when she was cut entirely from it. 
“Please, please don’t leave me…” Furina kneels on the ground, hands balled into fists as she begs and sobs. She can just barely see the sides of your shoes as you walk past, disregarding her as you head for the front door. When she’s sure you’re not looking she ceases her crying, the tears were fake from the start. Reaching for the pipe she hid under the couch, she silently grabs it before standing. It was easier to hit you, having stopped in the doorway to admire your freedom, you had been too caught up to hear the soft patter of her footsteps behind you.
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omegaversecurse · 22 days ago
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Wren's SAGAU Chapter 1: Teyvat Tales of a Creator God
ALSO ON Ao3!
Waking up, I noticed that I was not in my bedroom. Nor was I even inside, instead, I was lying underneath one of the biggest trees I have ever seen. The wind blew across my face like gentle kisses, and I noticed a weird butterfly glide across my vision. Glowing a soft blue-green, lightly translucent, and beautiful. It gently landed on my nose, causing me to go cross-eyed, entranced. It was only a couple of seconds before I felt a tickling in my nose, and I sneezed.
The butterfly, startled, started to fly away, and I rose, looking to chase after it. It flew to a statue, which I approached as I scampered toward the fleeing butterfly. As I got closer, the statue started to glow and pulse, which caused me to pause. The statue looked oddly familiar; this whole place looked oddly familiar. 
I was struck by a bolt of panic. What was I doing here? Did I really let a butterfly entrance me enough to cause me to disregard the fact I was in what appears to be another world? That I woke up outside? I took a step back; this feels oddly familiar. I’ve read enough fan fiction to know that I had been transported to the world of my favorite video game. 
The world of Teyvat is ruled by Celestia and the elements. 7 regions with 7 archons, each representing an element. Based on the statue and the tree, I knew I was in Windrise, and the butterfly was really a crystalfly. And I knew I was in serious danger now. 
Every fanfic I read mentioned being hunted down for being an ‘Imposter’ of the divine creator. That beloved characters that I built and played and loved would track me down and torture me so that I would die again and again and again. I couldn’t handle that- my hands started to shake. My eyes started to tear up; I couldn’t do this. So, I turned tail and ran. 
Everyone noticed the meteor the night previous. The golden light descended from Celestia. So bright it blinded the world in a dazzling white light. Each archon felt a tug in their heart, reminding them of the promise made by the divine creator, by Celestia. That when the stars in the sky aligned, the Divine One would descend again. No one knew when that would happen. People guessed for centuries, but there were parties in Teyvat that knew that the sky shown was not the true sky. 
People have also tried to force the ascension of the Divine Creator. The Tsaritsa collected the gnosis in order to gain the power to summon them. However, before she got them all, the descent happened. 
Many parties celebrated, and quickly calculations were made to determine where the Creator descended.
 The abyss order began summoning forces to the Overworld to prepare to bring them home. 
The Akademiya, under the guidance of their archon, began to pull every bit of research they could find on the life and wisdom of the Divine One. 
The Knights of Favonius sent operations to scour the area where it was believed they landed. 
The Inazuman Shrines, led by Yae Miko and Sagonomiya Kokomi, began leading mass prayer and offerings to their God. 
The Fontanians began to prepare shows and spectacles, headed by Furina, to dazzle them. 
Snezhnaya’s harbingers were sent out to begin their behind-the-scenes manipulation to bring the True One to their lands.
Natlan’s archon Mauvika began to ramp up their war games to determine who was worthy to become the Divine Retainer. 
And the Liyue Qixing and Adepti began to work in tandem to prepare the abode in which the God would reside.
However, when the Knights finally reached the holy site at Windrise, they found nothing but an imprint where their God landed and a glowing white Crystalfly, the first being blessed by the Oldest God. 
—-
Meanwhile, I ran straight into a Hillichurl camp. Panting furiously, I paused at the entrance to the camp, being guarded by a mitachurl. I blinked, preparing to flee, as the mitachurl looked shocked by my presence. He went from a sitting position to a deep kneel, with his head on the ground, knees folded behind him.
“Are- are you going to attack?” I asked, slightly nervous. When I received no response, I slowly moved forward, and the mitachurl looked up from its kneeling position. Then a horn sounded, and hillichurls started flooding out.
I panicked and started backing away before tripping and falling straight on my buttocks. But before I could get up and flee, the Hilichurls bowed before me in unison.
“I- I we’re good, right- you’re not going to attack?” I inquired. When none of them made a move to attack, I approached, and the hillichurls rose. A small hillichurl toddled over to me and grabbed my hand, leading me in. The hillichurls led me to the biggest hut, and sat me down in front of a large pile of sunsettias, apples, and berries. 
The little hillichurl offered me an apple, which I accepted gratefully. The hillichurls inside watched me as I took a bite into the juicy fruit. As I did, they cheered, seemingly happy their offering was accepted. 
When I noticed that the hillichurls were merely watching me eat, I said, “Please eat; I’d feel awkward if it was only me,” but they only stared as I gestured toward the fruit. 
I grabbed a sunsettia and offered it to the little hillichurl, and they squealed in happiness. Taking a big bite from the fruit, I again gestured to the fruit, and this time, the hillichurls began to get the picture. They all grabbed some fruit and began eating, and I smiled in happiness at the communication we were able to achieve. 
After we finished eating, they led me out to watch a dance they had prepared, which I enthusiastically watched.
The little Hillichurl, which I needed to learn the name of, began to lead me to the circle they formed, and I began to join in. It was fun, and even though I had two left feet, there was no judgment, only joy. 
I went to bed that night happy, not only that I was still alive but that I found people who, despite the language barrier, were kind and accepting of me.
—-
The next few days were spent in this bliss as I danced and played with hillichurls, who accepted me as one of their own. I started learning some of their words, and they started learning some of mine. 
I taught them some dances I knew, and they really took to the Charleston. We ate food, (and had a food fight), and we slept in a big group together. I almost completely forgot the dangers that lay beyond the borders of the camp. 
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay in this bliss forever. After all, the forces of this world were hunting me down, and they weren’t going to stop until they found me.
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idkfitememate · 11 months ago
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Furina Encounter
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૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Meka Reader x Furina
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.1k
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Reader is implied to (technically) be a murderer, Furina gets scared, Reader is also implied to know original Hydro Archon
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Imagine Furina exploring the deeper parts of the Opera Epiclese, only to find tunnels between the walls.
These tunnels led to crawl spaces beside vents, they lead to small doorways and openings to different rooms and spaces, some places even she’d never seen before.
After wondering for a while, she came across one more room she’d never seen.
Surrounding her on all sides was broken down and shattered Meka. Meka of all kinds. Dancing, protecting, alarming… and some she couldn’t tell off the bat.
Some that looked like perfect replicas of birds and one that looked like an opera singer. Eel like Meka and others.
It was a room of abandoned Meka.
Old and rusted, decaying and ruined.
As she walked through, every now and then one would scream or twitch, causing her to jump and whimper.
She passed a window and was shocked when she saw she was beneath the surface. Fish swam by the window, and an otter even passed by, knocking on the glass.
What really scared her was when a Meka turned on for a second, music blaring from its mouth before it broke down again.
The only light was from the windows the pointed out into the water around her, giving off an eerie deep blue glow throughout the room.
And then she finally made it to the end of the room.
There sat a thin and spindly Meka. It was tall, dressing in clothes that were a mixture between a circus ringmaster and a jester. Under its top hat wearing head as a face that was halfway between the comedy mask and the tragedy mask. It’s legs ended on needle points, small almost invisible holes on the end.
The most terrifying part, however, was that on its chest was an open window, and the inside was entirely filled with water from the Primordial Sea.
To be clear, its midsection was thin, it was made in a way where it mimicked a starving person, seeing its ‘ribs’ through its skin. On its back you could see its ‘spine’ poking through its clothes.
It was rusted and its once brilliant blue, white and gold clothes were worn and washed out with tears in the fabric. Small chips and cracks riddled its metallic skin, but beyond that, it was in perfect condition.
No missing limbs, no missing clothes - as far as she could see anyway - and over all it just looked a little worn. That’s all.
But as she crept closer, something seemed to flip on inside the odd Meka.
“Gnosis Found. Start Up Sequence Initiated…”
The Primordial Water inside your chest glowed a bright blue as it began to flow through your body.
What the God thought was cracks were actually intricate flowing lines to show the Water flowing through your metal bones. Your mask creaked as the joints in your face warmed back up after years of neglect. The mask spun to the comedy side and pressed down into your head, hiding the tragedy behind it. Your eyes lit up in blue as the water filled your skull.
Your joints moaned as you slowly stood. Furina summoned her sword and pointed towards you, though her hands shook terribly.
As you stood, you easily towered at a height of over ten feet. The smaller could hear the liquid sloshing inside you.
“Startup Sequence Complete. Running Diagnostics… Running All Systems…”
She could now hear mechanical whirling inside you. Then, your head turned a full 360°. Furina yelped and fell the to floor, still clutching her sword.
Then your face did a 360°, the face turning upside down then back. Then it flipped, revealing the tragedy mask, then back to comedy. Your chest did a 360°, your midsection did a 360°, and your arms did a 360° at each joint.
The Water in your chest drained and your chest transformed, metal claps coming out from your back and creating a holding place on your entire midsection. The girl could hear multiple things going on inside, going from flames to something metal.
After a few moments, the cage slipped away back inside you. You raised a hand and watched are your already think fingers somehow became thinner. Then they slipped into your thin hand, and flames burst out causing the girl in front of you to scream. Sharp scissor-like appendages came out and snipped at the air. Finally, a few syringes came out and filled with some kind of glowing substance. Five syringes and five colors. After, your thinned fingers came out before thickening again, not that it made much difference.
You did the same to your other hand, and Furina just watched. While she was scared, at the same time she was slightly intrigued. Though, she kept her sword close to her person.
When you reached your legs, you did practically the same thing with your hands. Thinning, fire, needles- though there were only two - and then back to the needles.
Your body shuddered and small metal sheets pulled away on different parts of your body. Long metal tentacles slithered out. Thin and grey they moved in circles. A few had small claps that opened and closed, and some that suddenly flashed with Electro energy. The metal tubes slid back into your body, but a few more with needles slid out. They filled with the same liquids then slid back in, the metal plates going back into place.
“All Systems Functional. Scanning… Archon Located. Persona Downloading…”
You stood still for a moment and let the Primordial Water flow through you, then stood up straight as you were leaning before.
“Persona Downloaded. One Moment Please…!”
Your eyes lit up brighter.
You jumped, making Furina scooted back.
You did a spin, small wheels sprouting from your feet. Your hat spun off your head. You preformed a few hat tricks, before spinning the hat back onto your head. A cane launched from somewhere on your body and into your hand. You even did a little dance as you wheeled forwards towards the now extremely shocked Furina.
“Hello Mon Archon lumineux, lustré, d'une beauté aveuglante et décoré avec amour! It is I, your Exécution Entièrement Automatisée et Divertissement Meka! At your service!~♡”
Furina stared at you before your hand suddenly disconnected from your wrist, a metal wire connecting the two. It flew to her hand, careful of the sharp points and pulled her up. A soft tune played from your body as you twirled her around before falling to your knees before her.
You pressed your cold, metal lips to her palm, a comedic kissing noise playing out as you lifted your head.
“Happy to be of service once more, Madame la mer étoilée. ~♡”
Furina swore she could hear the crying of a child coming from your Primordial Water Filled Chest.
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໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I had the idea a long time ago for an Execution Meka, and finally finished it! There’s inspo from everywhere in here. A little of Spinel from SU, some Mommy-Long-Legs from PP, a little murder drone (I don’t watch it but know a little), also some Pearl from SU, and a little FNAF in there as well (if I write anymore/if any gets requested you’ll know why!) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
I don’t know, just thought it’d be interesting, plus I feel like if any Nation had something that was made/born specifically for some type of execution directive, then it’d be Fontaine.
Again, I don’t know why, it just feels right. Also I feel like the laws are almost like the Queens Rules like from TWST, a few that make sense, and many more that are absolutely bullshit, so mixing entertainment and execution seems right up that alley! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა
* My luminous, lustrous, blindingly beautiful and lovingly decorated Archon - You to Furina
* Fully Automated and Entertainment Execution Meka - You to Furina
* Madam star-studded sea - You to Furina
(If any of this is off, blame the translator, same goes for all fics I write that have something other than English!)
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thedansemacabres · 1 year ago
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A Modern Understanding of Dionysus Hestios
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Photo from a vineyard I worked on.
[ID: A close-up image of a Chardonnay white-wine grapevine with three clusters. The clusters are green with some red. Bright green leaves cover the top of the clusters, while below a black irrigation line is visible. The ground below is covered in woodchips, except for a single plant below the clusters].
HESTIOS IS A FUN YET OBSCURE EPITHET OF DIONYSUS.  We can infer some of its context due to Zeus Hestios, that being a protector of the home and hearth. This epithet of Dionysus is a favourite of mine—for my home and hearth, he is a household deity as I am a viticulturist and winemaker. My life and livelihood is partially bound by grapevines as I currently work at an orchard that is establishing a vineyard and my responsibility is to make it happen. 
The context of this epithet is little known beyond a passage in Pausanias’ iconic Description of Greece: 
Pausanias, Description of Greece 1. 2. 5 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) : "From the gate to the Kerameikos [in Athens] there are porticoes . . . containing shrines of gods, and a gymnasium called that of Hermes. In it is the house of Poulytion . . . [which] in my time it was devoted to the worship of Dionysos. This Dionysos they call Melpomenos (Minstrel) [i.e. of Melpomene, the muse of tragedy], on the same principle as they call Apollon Mousegetes (Leader of the Muses) . . . After the precinct of Apollon is a building that contains earthen ware images, Amphiktyon, king of Athens, Dionysos Hestios (Feasting or Of the Hearth) and other gods. Here also is Pegasos of Eleutherai, who introduced the god [Dionysos] to the Athenians. Herein he was helped by the oracle at Delphoi, which called to mind that the god once dwelt in Athens in the days of Ikarios."
Dionysus Hestios is mentioned in Athens, along with his myth of his devotee Pegasos bringing his cult to the city. Other than references to Zeus Hestios, I have not found any more context for this epithet beyond protecting the home/hearth. Therefore, this aspect of him will be a contender for a strong upg basis. 
In my times in wine, I’ve gathered my own gnosis of Dionysus Hestios. He is a protector of the hearth, but in my personal experience, the table wine aspect of Dionysus.
TABLE WINE IN THE MODERN WORLD
Table wine is named exactly for what it is, a wine that sits at your dinner table and a key part of a meal. Italy especially is famous for its cheap table wines, many of which I’ve had at my own tables and dinners. Most commercial wines these days are made to be drinkable on their own—while table wines are uncomfortable and harsh on the tongue. With food, they transform, turning these harsh and bitter wines into something truly enjoyable. It also makes the food taste better. For anyone unknowing, that’s why wine and food pairing is a thing. Unfortunately, the table wine market is slowly beginning to crumble—most modern wine drinkers enjoy more of a good tasting drink instead of a complement of one’s meal. If you have the chance, I recommend buying some and trying it in pairings—it’s a dying market, sadly, and one that has an ancient history behind it. 
While table wines slowly fade, there is always a place for them in our lives. I myself have fond memories of a terribly bitter wine being served at my family’s table, and while I hated the taste, I’ve come to fall in love with them in recent years. Dionysus Hestios as a god of the home is a god of table wine, the happy smiles and festive memories of people having their Chianti with some steak or pasta. It’s the thrill of a good food pairing, a decanter, and the hundred years history of people making wine for the common folk instead of just for the aristocrats and their “noble” grapes. 
Dionysus Hestios, Hearth warmer, master  Of your craft, joy becoming  Protect our heart and wine, Let us dance and joy,  Under your blessings  Of the woody grapevine. 
References
DIONYSUS CULT 1 - Ancient Greek Religion. (n.d.). https://www.theoi.com/Cult/DionysosCult.html
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yourwitchybrother · 6 months ago
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On Worshipping Lord Apollo;
I've decided to start a little series about the deities I worship, have worshipped, and will worship in the future. I've always found posts like these to be more helpful and, if I can help anyone, I think this is an amazing way to to so. In this post, I'm going to cover a lot, so buckle up! And I will make a master post for all of the posts I make in this series.
First up! Lord Apollo.
Hands down, he is the deity with whom I have the most experience and personal anecdotes. Apollo has been in my life since the very beginning. I go into a little bit more detail in this post, in which I detail how I view him as a worshipper, my patron, and a godspouse. For information's sake, however, I will try to keep this post a little bit more factual than UPG. UPG stands for "Unverified personal gnosis", which refers to a spiritual belief that stems from intuition or personal spiritual experience. So, while UPG may seem to line up with mythos or just "make sense" for the deity, it varies from practitioner to practitioner and from relationship to relationship. With that being said, I'll focus mostly on the facts with some little bit of advice thrown in from your older brother :)
Correspondences!
First, let's talk correspondences. Consider this a little cheat sheet if you will.
☀︎ You can refer to him by Apollo / Apollon, typically he will clarify which. Many regard him as "Lord Apollo/n", though it is fully dependent on your relationship with him. I drop the Lord unless I'm praying or invoking him, such is the nature of our relationship. For the sake of this post, I shall be referring to him formally as Lord Apollo.
☀︎ He has... a lot of epithets. You can view them here (theoi.com) if you'd like to see a full list.
☀︎ Apollo is typically associated with Sunday, and such is associated with the Sun.
☀︎ He has many sacred animals - The raven, dolphin, swan, mouse, and wolves.
☀︎ Tarot-wise, he is associated primarily, and most commonly, with The Sun. He has also been associated with The Star, though I do not see this one in many sources.
☀︎ He is the God of a plethora of things. The Sun (he is responsible for pulling it across the sky), Light, Poetry, Music, the arts, plague, prophecy, logic and reason, truth, beauty, agriculture, and archery. I am sure I'm missing things. And if you know other deities to be associated similarly, that is okay. Many Gods can share domains and rule over certain things.
☀︎ He is associated with the colors red, white, orange, yellow, and gold!
☀︎ Symbolically, he is related to the Sun, the Lyre, the Bow and Arrow, and the Laurel Wreath.
☀︎ For incense, he is linked to frankincense, myrrh, cypress, clove, cinnamon, and bay.
But that is a lot of correspondence. What can we do with these? Why, I'm glad you asked! With this list of correspondences, we can start to worship Apollo by the book. These would be some more traditional things that would assist you in learning what you want to offer him, what to associate with him, and what you should keep an eye out for. In a later section, I go over some familial ties that can prove useful as well.
Apollo, as an individual
Lord Apollo has typically been regarded as a "beginner deity." He is very easy to work with, incredibly receptive, and is universally known as being a little more laid back with things such as offerings, prayer, and worship. Though I've found all deities to be understanding of circumstance, there is no strict schedule unless you decide to adhere to one.
At the start of our relationship, I found Lord Apollo's energy to be rather bright. I was very new to picking up on spiritual energy and the metaphysical, so his energy felt very overbearing, and we did not spend much in-person time together because of this. He was understanding of my limitations, but he did not hesitate to push these limitations as much as he could for my personal development. This is something he continues to do to this day.
While he does tend to carry himself rather relaxed and carefree, he has no issue being serious and stern whenever needed. If there were signs he was sending me and I would intentionally ignore them because they pointed in directions I did not like, he would respond sternly and ferociously, forcing me to face the negative sooner or figuratively shoving my nose in the signs so I couldn't avoid it. If I needed to face a brutally honest truth, he had no issue being brutally honest. This makes sense, considering he is the God of Truth and Knowledge.
Lord Apollo is also very playful. He's easily excitable. He loves seeing the people he works with make good progress. And if you take a few steps back, depending on your relationship, he is absolutely there to catch you. He is reliable and present. Additionally, he likes attention. He absolutely adores being talked about, thought about, referenced, and thanked. He adores being said good morning to, or even just getting a wave. Some people regard such deities as "high maintenance", but I really just consider it part of his character.
You have every right to decline to work with a deity, by the way. Don't feel as though there's any obligation to work with every deity that is considered "of your skill level", as there is no such thing, and you should only work with a deity once you are ready. The Old Gods do not come with stats above their head and white text that says "PREFERRED LEVEL." They are Gods. You should not get involved with them if you do not feel ready. And even if you feel ready, there is no pressure to invite them into your life.
Worshipping Tips!
This one is a bit lengthy. Apollo, being one of the twelve Olympians, has a lot of lore surrounding him. But this gives us a lot to work with! You can devote time to him in a lot of ways. This involves worshipping or leaving offerings to his family!
His mother is Leto, his father is Zeus, and his twin sibling is Artemis. Familially, he is not married to anyone, but he has had a series of lovers. One account says he was, at one point, a lover to Hekate and together they had Skylla, a sea monster. Though this is unusual. He was said to be a lover to each of the Nine Muses but married none. He fell in love with a myriad of nymphs; Aethusa who birthed Eleuther, Akakallis who birthed him twins Philanderos and Philakides, Daphne who was turned into a laurel tree, and more. There's famously Hyacinthous, a prince, who was accidentally killed. Hymenaeus, another prince, and Cyparisus, another prince, who died of grief and was transformed into the cypress tree.
This gives us a whole lot to work with. Especially for offerings! You can leave him a lot of things:
☀︎ Cypress tree leaves or seeds. ☀︎ Bay leaves ☀︎ Laurel leaves ☀︎ Sun imagery - charms, pictures, drawings, anything. ☀︎ Crystals - Sunstone, citrine, tiger's eye, amber, bumblebee jasper, orange selenite, carnelian, and other yellow, red, or orange stones. ☀︎ Coffee, energy drinks, or anything with caffeine in it. ☀︎ Citrus! Oranges and lemons! Grapefruit! ☀︎ Flowers - Hyacinths, sunflowers, orange roses, larkspur/delphinium, palm, aloe, or any plant that reminds you of him. ☀︎ Instruments - String instruments are the main thing people offer, however you can offer him any instrument. ☀︎ Art - Things you made. Drawings, sculptures, compositions, poetry, paintings, song lyrics, photography, literally anything you made with your two hands.
In terms of what you can do to worship him, there are a few things you can do.
☀︎ Maintain your physical and mental health. Go to the gym, take your medicine, and positively affirm yourself. ☀︎ Sing for or with him. Play an instrument. Learn an instrument! ☀︎ Write short stories or poetry. ☀︎ Go outside and bask in the sun for a little while. ☀︎ Say Good Morning and Goodnight; Thank him for pulling the sun across the sky. ☀︎ Write about him. ☀︎ Draw him offerings, or draw in his honor. Create in his honor. ☀︎ Do a paint-and-sip class, or follow a Bob Ross tutorial. ☀︎ Pick up a new creative hobby. ☀︎ Volunteer at a local hospital or nursing home. ☀︎ Grow some of the plants that are sacred to him! ☀︎ Go to your local museum or art gallery. ☀︎ Support small artists! Support local artists! ☀︎ Create a hymn in his name and honor. ☀︎ Wear jewelry with his symbols on it. I wear a sun necklace! ☀︎ Wear perfumes or colognes that are citrus-scented or scented like any of his preferred incense.
At the end of the day, you can really do whatever you want for Lord Apollo if it reminds you of him. And you can give him whatever you want, so long as it reminds you of him. If you think that it may not mean anything to him, let me give you a bit of brotherly insight. Offerings were left for The Old Gods as a thank you. A form of appreciation for the divine from the physical, mortal plane. People left whatever they had. And if they had nothing, they would pray and hope to be heard. While offerings are not optional, remember that your words count, as well. Even if it seems small.
And if you have any questions, as usual, please ask!! I love talking about Apollo. Not only am I godspoused to him but he's one of my biggest hyperfixations and I absolutely love talking about him and spreading his teachings and information on him. So this is me begging you to ask me questions, ask me anything, literally anything in the comments or in my inbox I will eat it up. Maybe I'll open up a brotherly advice box or something. Non lo so, ma vedremo!
Blessed be, and may the sun be your guide! A domani!
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