#kaeya has a heavenly place in my heart

[iken]

brother! kaeya ｡˚🐈‍⬛.𖥔 ݁ ˖

because this thought just suddenly came to mind

imagine kaeya being your brother— better yet, him as your work partner too. i can think of so many instances where you and kaeya share so many glances while working and trying not to burst out laughing. yall would always give each other that “you saw what i saw?” look whenever somebody does something out of the ordinary.

imagine all of the inside jokes created during your shifts. or maybe even the long walks home afterwards. some days you and kaeya will go to the bar after work to relieve your stress. i feel like kaeya would be a great brother when it comes to cheering you up, even when you aren’t necessarily sad or upset. he’d genuinely be so nice to be around.

[lowlylux]

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint)

Chapter Fourteen | One World

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 3.5k words

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

AO3 Link

“I’m surprised you actually showed up,” Kaeya says casually, crossing his right leg and placing it on his left.  He has some sort of drink in a glass, and Scaramouche hopes it isn’t alcohol just for the sake of everyone’s sanity.  “Considering they showed up to your house, no one would judge you for staying home.”

“You definitely would have talked about it for days afterward,” Diluc says with a scoff.  He’s sitting with Childe, in seats far away from Kaeya.  Childe is holding onto Diluc’s waist, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder.  “But Scaramouche, it’s good you came.”

Scaramouche hesitantly takes a seat, noting that for once, the bar is completely empty save for the few people he expected to see today.  “For all the praise I’m getting for showing up, I’m still not sure why you all wanted me here.”

“Are you familiar with the gnosis pool?”

Scaramouche nods, growing uncomfortable with the conversation.  “The divine determined that knowledge was superior to the evolution of the angelic realm, and mandated that an angel’s memory should be available to others.  Although, I’m not too sure how much is updated if we fall.” Scaramouche’s eyes flick forward, staying on Kaeya.  “Why do you want to know?”

Kaeya takes a sip of his drink before talking, staying as calm as ever.  “We have reason to believe that the current leader of the demonic realm is a fallen angel.”

Scaramouche’s heart drops at such words, looking to Childe for some assistance.  He doesn’t even know why, but something in him hopes that Childe can shed some light on the situation, but the demon avoids his gaze.  “What do you mean?  Angels don’t just fall to the demonic realm…and based on my own memory, we haven’t had anyone fall since before the war.  So who exactly do you think the Tsaritsa is?”

Diluc squeezes Childe’s hand for a moment before sighing.  “Have you heard of Barnabas?”

Scaramouche’s brain feels as if it has short circuited, unable to fully recognize the words these people are saying.  “She died after the war.  We held a funeral for her.”

“She’s alive.”

“No,” Scaramouche says, shaking his head.  “It was shortly after I was created.  My mother specifically told me that I was created due to the rage of losing both her sister and Barnabas.”

“And what if she lied to you?” Kaeya questions, rolling his only visible eye when Scaramouche sends him a look.  “She lied, saying that she didn’t know about the uprising and you’re sitting here looking at me as if she is a saint.”

“She’s my mother.”

“And she lied to you, get over it.”

“Kaeya, that’s enough,” Diluc says, sitting forward.  “I’m well aware that this entire situation is fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you need to be an ass to the only chance we have.”

“If he was actually capable of basic comprehension maybe I wouldn’t have to be.”

“And if you were able to properly communicate with others we wouldn’t have a problem,” Diluc hisses out, grabbing Childe’s hand for comfort once more.  The demon is the one to squeeze this time, successfully calming the man.  “We have reasons to believe that Barnabas was able to ascend and become an archangel, and in order to continue their control, the divine cast her out.”

“If she became an archangel, people would have talked about it,” Scaramouche says, not quite in denial, but suspicious.  “Everyone in the angelic realm believes that she is dead…but…”

“But?”

“It would make sense why Celestia was afraid of me becoming too involved with anything,” Scaramouche mutters, putting the puzzle pieces together himself.  “They claim that our ranks are eternal, but if one was able to ascend, it could potentially decimate their entire society.  It would make sense that certain people are far more predisposed to ascend, which is why an seemingly arbitrary list of people weren’t able to have free reign like other angels.”  Scaramouche’s gaze snaps forward, “but all this is hypothetical.  The only angel to ascend was rumored to be under high stress and protecting another life.”

“And what happened to that archangel?” Diluc questions, staying calm and keeping an even tone as he speaks.

“The records of them were sealed into the gnosis pool…and I never felt the need to look into it.” 

“Scara,” Childe says hesitantly, talking for the first time.  “If Dottore and Pantalone are going after you, that means they are close to summoning the Tsaritsa.  We need to find out if she has weaknesses.”

“And why are we sure that you won’t betray us?” Kaeya asks, his attention now on the demon.  “You’re a harbinger, that’s only awarded to those who are her confidants.”

“My queen is the reason I am able to make my own decisions.  I stand here only because she saw something in me,” Childe says defensively.  “If there is a way to make her stand down, I will urge all of you to take it.  But, she’s changed over the centuries.  While I adore her and owe her my existence, I refuse to sit by and let her destroy the human realm and herself.”

“In other words, shut up about things you don’t understand,” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes at his brother.  His attention goes back to Scaramouche.  “Only angels can access the gnosis pool, and if our theory is correct, we need to see if there is something we can use against her.”

“What if I can’t access it anymore?  They cast me out.”

“Then it will be another failed plan,” Diluc says, trying to reassure the angel.  “We need a few days to get the spell ready so you can access it from here…but if it ends up being unsuccessful, we will not fault you in the slightest, understood?”

Scaramouche can only nod.

●•·•●

Heizou didn’t expect returning to work to be as boring as it is.  No, boring is not quite the right word for it, aggravating is a much better one.  Everyone is tip-toeing around him, acting as if he is a porcelain doll that could break.  Yes, he was kidnapped during an investigation, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t against going back out there.

Scaramouche is connected to the magical world, yes, but maybe Heizou can do something to stop Dottore and Pantalone in his own world.  He didn’t see them coming at first, but he knows their tricks.  Possession, shape shifting, and an over reliance on their opponents being less intelligent than them.  Heizou can definitely work with that.

Hell, he doesn’t even know what Scaramouche is doing at the moment.  He trusts him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t wonder what’s going to happen.  He clicks through files he’s accumulated on both Dottore and Pantalone.  

And there really isn’t much.

He didn't expect there to be, after all these two have been planning all this for a long time.  They even infiltrated his workplace to keep other people’s eyes off the truth.  However, there is still enough to work with.

Heizou considers himself to be smart.  He has to be when working as a detective.  So seemingly meaningless information is like a Christmas gift to him, forever furthering the investigation.  Because if you can look into the small facts, like what they ate at a steakhouse, or where Dottore went to kindergarten, threads begin to unravel.  The truth can’t really be hidden, merely obstructed.  But if you take the time, you can blow away the dust and reveal everything you need to know.

So he definitely plans to do that.  While Scaramouche can continue to unravel their plan, Heizou will attack their entire way of living.  It’s not a solid plan, and it could most definitely come crashing down and actively hurt him in the end, but Heizou cannot bring himself to care.

“Heizou?”

The detective’s attention snaps away from his computer, allowing him to look at his superior.  Kujou Sara stands there, looking hesitant.  “Did your boyfriend adopt another wild animal?”

Heizou raises an eyebrow, fully questioning what she is asking.  When Sara points to the ground he stands up, looking down.  And honestly, he didn’t expect to see a fox sitting there calmly, staring directly at him.  And the eyes…he definitely thinks there is something more to it.  

Quickly recovering, he just shrugs.  “Kazuha said he needed to grab a few things and asked me to take care of this one.  I should have asked, sorry.”

“…make sure it doesn’t ruin the carpets,” Kujou Sara says with her eyes narrowed.  She obviously doesn’t believe him, but he really appreciates her trusting him to not do anything stupid.  But who knows, thinking a random fox is anything other than a fox is rather stupid.  

When his boss leaves, the fox wastes no time in jumping onto Heizou’s desk.  It stares at him, blinking slowly, clearly assessing him to an uncomfortable degree.  Or maybe it isn’t, maybe Heizou is going crazy.  Honestly, that is probably the answer now that he thinks about it.

“Are you actually a fox?”

It was a shot in the dark, and it definitely makes Heizou feel like he is going crazy.  But with the way the fox moves, it almost feels like the creature shakes its head.  

“Are you here because of Scara?”

It nods this time, and Heizou feels as if he is going insane.  It is a good thing he has his own private office or his coworkers would mock him relentlessly for talking to a literal wild creature.

“Are you here to kill him?”

It shakes its head.

“To protect him?”

It just stands still, which Heizou decides must mean that the situation is far more complicated then a simple yes or no interrogation.  

“To watch him?”

The fox nods once more, and it surely was not the answer Heizou was hoping for.  Honestly, he doesn’t know what he is really hoping for.  

“Why?”

While Scaramouche insisted that he could craft jewelry using the feathers he selected from his wings, both Heizou and Kazuha refused.  Both said that they would do it right, and while neither had previously done anything close to jewelry making, neither of them faltered in their collective decision.  If the receiver of the feather is supposed to craft the jewelry in the Angelic Realm, they can do it down here as well.

During his breaks, Heizou had been watching Youtube videos on how to start crafting an necklace that would rival whatever Kazuha is cooking up (and has most likely finished by now).  So, when this fox stands up and puts a paw on the feather, Heizou cannot help but worry.

“You’re connected to heaven?”

The fox stands still: another complicated answer.

So, Heizou just narrows his eyes for a moment, his mind going through many possibilities before arriving at a very simple one.  He stares at the fox for a moment, looking for anything that indicates something different from what he has come up with in his mind.

“His mother sent you.”

The fox nods and Heizou quickly realizes that maybe this will be a day he doesn’t talk about once he gets home…at least not with his angel.

●•·•●

Kazuha found himself admiring the earring he made, the feather almost shimmering in the light.  Scaramouche took forever selecting two feathers, according to the angel he needed to ensure that both were of equal quality.  But Kazuha likes to think this is special.  Scaramouche isn’t unintelligent, he knows that both his partners favor different styles, and most likely selected feathers to portray that.

When the front door slams, Kazuha sits up immediately, heart racing when he thinks of Scaramouche seeing the earring for the first time.  He can already imagine the smile that will spread across the angel’s face.

But Scaramouche barely even looks at Kazuha before flopping onto Kazuha with the grace of an elephant.  He buries his face into Kazuha’s shoulder and just sits there, as if silently asking Kazuha to ask what happened.  

“I’m guessing hanging out with Childe didn’t go well.”

Scaramouche only grunts in response, nuzzling further into Kazuha’s shoulder.  Kazuha takes that as an answer though and continues on as if he had said a thousand words.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Scaramouche moves, shifting so that he and Kazuha are face to face.  He looks conflicted, and Kazuha frankly does not like it whatsoever.  “They think there is more to the current ruler of the Demonic Realm than meets the eye.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t ask me to clarify,” Scaramouche says with a sigh, messing with Kazuha’s sleeve.  “I don’t even know all the details myself…What they’re suggesting is practically impossible.”

Kazuha moves hair out of Scaramouche’s face, silently noting that the angel’s hair is getting long again.  But He doesn’t have the heart to point it out, especially due to the choppy haircut Scaramouche once gave himself, now growing out into quite a nice one.  “That sounds stressful.”

“It’s fine…I think,” Scaramouche says, not really believing his words.  “But they want me to do something that I’m not comfortable with…Looking into another angel’s memory is something I never thought of doing.”

“What?”

“Celestia makes sure our memories are preserved so we can further our own knowledge.  It’s not utilized a lot because we don’t have control over what is saved.  It saves every moment of our lives.”

Kazuha pauses, his mind going over the sudden information.  “Does that mean that any time we…”

“I don’t like thinking about it.”

Well that certainly answers his question.  Now, while he does feel comforted that it probably would never be seen, he cannot help but feel a bit uncomfortable that any intimate moment he has had with Scaramouche has been recorded.  “Why didn’t you say anything about that?”

Scaramouche finally meets his gaze, and Kazuha's heart practically melts.  The angel looks absolutely devastated, as if waiting for Kazuha to throw him aside for this.�� His wings are even drooping, barely visible due to the angle Kazuha is sitting at.  “I didn’t think my memory was still being recorded once I was cast out.  I’m so sorry, I should have told you both about the possibility.”

“Hey,” Kazuha says softly, holding Scaramouche’s face, “you didn’t know.  And if what you said is true, not like someone is going to just happen upon your memories.”

Kazuha notices Scaramouche’s eyes watering and immediately brushes away any tears that start to fall.  “You two are too good to me.  I don’t deserve it.”

“Scara…If I could, I would shower you with everything you would ever want until you admitted that you deserve that tenfold.  I would hold you in my arms, praising you until my throat goes dry.  But for now I think just telling you that neither Heizou nor I care about something as insignificant as our lives with you being immortalized.”

Scaramouche stares at Kazuha in shock, his eyes wide.  Honestly, Kazuha suspects that the man’s brain has short circuited.  

“I love you so much.”

And suddenly Kazuha also cannot think clearly.  He doesn’t even respond at first, instead causing the angel to worry as he stays silent.  Kazuha pulls Scaramouche closer to him, pressing his lips softly onto the other’s.  When they separate a few moments later, he smiles.  “I love you too.”

And for the first time, Scaramouche is actually looking at Kazuha.  Kazuha notes how the angel looks him over, observing every reaction he is having due to the sudden confession.  But when Scaramouche spots the earring, he visibly stops before reaching out and touching it.

“What do you think?”

“You made it an earring,” Scaramouche whispers, letting out a breath as he continues to observe it.  He holds it in his hand, letting the light catch it as he just stares.  But when he suddenly grabs Kazuha’s face, forcing a kiss that does not feel like the previous one, Kazuha cannot help but gasp in surprise.

Truthfully, if Kazuha knew that wearing the feather would cause Scaramouche to kiss him like this, he would have done it immediately.  He keeps his hands to his sides, deciding to not make a move until getting permission.  Not that it really seems like he needs it, as Scaramouche continues on without a care in the world.

He deepens the kiss, his arms moving to loosely wrap around Kazuha’s neck, successfully pulling him closer.  Kazuha is becoming hyper aware of every move Scaramouche makes, moaning into the angel’s mouth as the world around them disappears.

They separate for a moment, their breaths mingling as they just appreciate each other's presence for now.  Kazuha rests his forehead on Scaramouche’s, softly smiling.  “Are you okay?” Scaramouche asks.

And Kazuha, for all that he likes to believe he knows how the human brain works, looks absolutely confused.  “What?”

“You’re stiff…” Scaramouche mutters, intertwining one of his hands with Kazuha’s.  “Did I do something wrong?”

Kazuha squeezes his partner’s hand, pressing a soft kiss onto the angel’s forehead.  “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I thought I told you to stop doing that.”

“I guess you did,” Kazuha replies, smiling as Scaramouche gets visibly annoyed, scrunching up his face.  “Maybe I’m developing memory loss due to my old age.”

“You’re twenty-four,” Scaramouche says with a blank expression, and then, seemingly, he gets another idea.  “And I’m older than you by a few thousand years at least.”

“Ah but humans change faster than angels, so how do you know I’m not old by human standards?”

“I’ll tell Beidou you called her old.”

“Please don’t.” Kazuha shudders at the thoughts of his last breath as Beidou murders him.  He decides to ignore those thoughts, as he would at least hope Beidou wouldn’t kill him.  “But seriously, what do you want me to do?”

Scaramouche’s cheeks flush red as he pushes against Kazuha’s chest.  “You can’t just ask me something like that.”

“Why not?” Kazuha asks coyly, grinning widely.  “Is it my fault that I want to know what you want?  Or maybe I could just do the process of elimination, hmm?” He still smiles as he presses a soft kiss onto Scaramouche’s lips.  “Maybe this?” He grabs a handful of Scaramouche’s hair, pulling the angel's head to the side so that he can start pressing soft kisses onto his partner’s neck.  

And even though Scaramouche is clearly enjoying this, the angel shakes his head.  When Kazuha lets him go, he doesn’t fail to hear the whine coming from him.

“Well I simply need to think about this then,” Kazuha says, messing with the angel’s wings this time, pulling at specific feathers meticulously.  “Maybe you just tell me what you want.”

Scaramouche nods, visibly swallowing before taking Kazuha’s hands with this and placing them on his hips.  Kazuha wastes no time in squeezing his partner, finding the edge of Scaramouche’s shirt, drawing circles onto his skin.  He pushes against Scaramouche’s hips with his own, relishing in the small sounds Scaramouche releases.

Scaramouche is always vocal, and honestly, Kazuha loves it.  He adores relishing in the knowledge that his angel slowly begins to lose himself when like this.  And when it starts happening, he knows that he is doing everything right.  

Scaramouche still does not relinquish control however, instead moving his hips against Kazuha’s, just using the hands on his hips to keep him stable.  Kazuha just stares at Scaramouche, enjoying every expression that appears on his beautiful face.  

But Scaramouche doesn’t seem as enamored with the idea of Kazua watching him with a stupid smile on his face.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Well if I can only keep my hands here, there’s not much else I can do,” Kazuha teases, closing his eyes for a split second when Scaramouche grinds against him with the right amount of pressure.  

“I hate you,” Scaramouche mutters, burying his face into Kazuha’s shoulder.

“Does that mean I can move my hands?”

Scaramouche doesn’t respond, instead continuing his actions.  But, with Scaramouche’s current mood, Kazuha takes that as an answer and starts to toy with the angel’s waistline.  Scaramouche lifts his hips immediately, giving him an opening to push the clothing down.  

“It might be uncomfortable..”

“Shut up.” Scaramouche mumbles into his shoulder.  His hands are traveling down as well, messing with Kazuha’s sweatpants.  There aren't even words needed as Kazuha just picks up Scaramouche and allows him to tug them down.  

When they get comfortable once more, Kazuha finds enjoyment over how flustered Scaramouche looks.  Kazuha grins as Scaramouche cries out, his eyes tracing over every feature and reaction as he slowly moves his hand along both his and Scaramouche’s cocks.

Scaramouche holds onto Kazuha tightly, his nails digging deeper the longer their moment lasts.  And, to the angel’s credit, it does last for a good while.  Even when everything is said and done, Scaramouche stays close to Kazuha, his breath tickling the other’s neck.  

Kazuha presses a few scattered kisses onto the angel’s skin, enjoying the silence.  And it is in this moment, that Kazuha determines that he refuses to let Scaramouche deal with all of this alone.

He will help.  That he is sure of.

13 << >> 15

masterlist

[rei-venus]

i would take a bullet for you just to prove my love

prompt: “… only to find out you are the one holding the gun”; or, in which the different reasons your love was never meant to be + small scenario!

character(s) included: xiao, albedo, kaeya

warnings: angst; break up (xiao and albedo); major character death (kaeya); blood (kaeya); destruction of mondstadt (albedo and kaeya)

genre: angst, no comfort

notes: ehehe yum angst >:3 they might be a bit ooc sorry-

xiao:

it’s rex lapis.

it always was rex lapis.

all those eons of slaughter had been curbed by him after all, and he owes his whole life and body — if not more — to the god of contracts.

he would’ve wished to say that he had agreed to your relationship out of pity, but whenever he heard the voices of his karmic debt giggling and threatening him with the life of yours, he could feel himself gritting his teeth in anger, wishing nothing more but to pray that their words weren’t true.

but, as much as he loves you, xiao — no, alatus — has always only seen rex lapis.

in his eyes, rex lapis was his god, his light; as much as he loved you, you were simply not his priority in this life.

“xiao…”

“i’m sorry.”

he could feel his teeth grinding against each other, and the voices in his head cackling and screaming.

it simply wasn’t this life, he decided. it wasn’t this life where the two of you could be together, and it never would be. the heavenly principles that watched teyvat from above them all would never take pity on such a lowly yaksha. he could feel the red strings that wrapped around his body, holding his already fragile soul in their hands, inky blackness tainting it even further, even after all the bloodshed he had been involved in was over.

why, he would often find himself questioning. of all people, why did he have to fall in love with a mortal such as you?

“rex lapis may be gone, but liyue still needs me.”

“liyue has grown xiao. the people no longer require your protection, your contract with rex lapis has long been terminated-”

“you don’t understand!”

his sharp golden eyes bore holes into you, voice harsh and unforgiving. he could only watch in regret as tears streamed down your face, his poor heart almost cracking under all the pressure.

“guarding liyue is my job, and i am nothing but a tool for rex lapis. even if he is gone, my soul is still bound to this place, so don’t try to stop me.”

his voice faded away as his body dissolved into green particles, floating away in the wind.

his heart of stone, the one that had stood strong and carried him through the countless battles and bloodshed all these years, had finally shattered.

as he stood atop the mountains of liyue, watching the civilians down below, only did he remember why he had agreed to get involved with you.

he had fallen in love with you because you had been so human, so kind — so unlike him.

albedo:

the destruction of mondstadt looming over his head like how celestia watches over teyvat.

his laboratory in dragonspine was always cold, but he could feel the little warmth he had in his artificial body increase whenever you came to visit him.

alas, as he watched mondstadt become engulfed in flames in a mirage, the only thing he honed in on was the screams of your voice.

he can feel his artificial heart cracking whenever he revisits that image in his memories, your cries for help ringing in his ears whenever his eyes land on you.

so, to save you, the light of his life, the sole fire that burns in his heart, the kreideprinz decided that he must part ways with you, and live the rest of his days in solitude.

“i’m sorry, my love.”

his poker face had cracks, he knew. as he watched those streams of tears drip down your face, his chest hurt. what was this feeling in his chest, as if something was gnawing on his beating organ, a bundle of ropes tightening consistently on his chest, restricting his breathing? what was this? was this the heartbreak human beings spoke of?

for the first time, the perfect experiment was broken, as hurt and spoiled as a human being. he had been so used to being placed on a pedestal, high above the rest, like some divine creation that deserved to be standing up in the heavens, watching the measly human beings below.

the star on his neck, the only sign of inconsistency in his consistent homunculus life. the one that was loved by you, with your fingers gently tracing over its sides every night as the two of you laid in your shared bed.

why, why did the heavenly principles deem them unworthy of being together, forcing them to part? why could they not stay as they had before, enjoying the sun together at windrise and basking in each other’s presence?

“my dear, it’s best if you leave.”

“albedo…”

the kreindeprinz could feel his lips trembling from the heartache, body racked with sobs as he watched your figure disappear down the mountain. why, why did he have to leave you so?

if one were to ask the chief alchemist who resided on the dangerous terrains of dragonspine what his greatest regret was, he would’ve answered:

“falling in love with someone i was not supposed to.”

kaeya:

the last hope of khaenri’ah, the weight of his country falls on his shoulders.

he had once revealed to you the secrets under his eyepatch, his heart so warm and full of love as you simply stroked his blue hair as you smiled, bringing his forehead to your lips for a kiss.

every little heartfelt moment he spent with you, every time you interlocked your pinkies as you walked the streets of mondstadt, every time you shared a kiss under the moonlight, giggling together; all the moments spent with you were tucked deep in kaeya’s mind, memories he would never forget.

but now, as the flames engulf the city of mondstadt, smoke billowing and encasing the nation with a blanket of ashy black, the star shaped pupils stare at you in horror.

the crimson liquid soaking your clothes, and the ever slowing pants that you let out as you leans against the wall of a building is the only thing he sees in this country that was burning to the ground.

it was as if celestia was telling him “it’s your fault. it’s always your fault.”

“no…”

the world around his was quiet, and his vision focused on your fallen figure. all he could see was you, you, you. the fall of mondstadt meant nothing to him if it meant not having you by his side.

falling to his knees, he reached a shaking hand to brush your cheek. his nimble fingers smeared the hot, sticky liquid that trickled down your forehead, as if trying to wipe away the sins he had committed.

“h-hey… hey look at me…”

your soulless eyes simply stared back at him in wonder, and his eyes trail the tear tracks that streak down your cheeks. why was it that with every action he took, he would loose something in return? was this the order of the heavenly principles above, in order to establish balance in this cruel, wretched world?

as the stars above him burned and fell, nothing could compare to the explosion of emotion in his heart, threatening to overwhelm him and bring him down to the depths of the abyss. anywhere was better; away from mondstadt, away from the chaos, to you, your arms, your smile and your laughter. where was his happiness now that he had fulfilled his purpose?

he gritted his teeth, and could feel the faint trickle of blood seeping through his own clothes. his heart squeezed painfully, and his chest constricted, as if the thickest ropes were being bound around him. a victim to his own actions; what a joke. was this the predetermined outcomes of the gods of celestia?

as the smoke of the city of freedom rose up to the heavens, today was the day marked as the victory of khaenri’ah over mondstadt, but also the day where the sole survivor of both lands had lost the only thing that had mattered to him.

teyvat would soon fall into utter chaos, and the mastermind would watch with listless eyes as the world around him burned.

[probablynotasquid]

I'm putting myself here; but how would the SAGAU react to a player giving them a kiss on the screen. Come at me with your pitchforks, cringe is dead. Specifically Kaeya, because I have a dedicated area in the Serenitea pot just for being at ease with him.

i like your attitude anon, your lack of shame is truly admirable and i strive to be like that someday

i do wonder how a kiss on the screen would translate though… like i sometimes give my characters little pats on the head but that doesn’t have the same significance i feel

perhaps it translates directly. kaeya’s going about his day, shuffling endless paperwork with shoulders heavy with fatigue. it’s almost dusk, and he’s thinking about calling it an early night until there’s something pressed to his forehead. it’s fleeting, but he knows he didn’t imagine it. he felt the soft lips of his creator press against his skin, and it was invigorating and encouraging. he ends up staying late that evening. 

or maybe its not as direct, and more a knowledge that they had been blessed by their creator. he sits in the traveller’s teapot, in the area they had set up for him at the creator’s request. sometimes they would sit with him there, and every time it was heavenly. the air was thick with the creator’s presence, and whenever the traveller took their leave, he felt the love the creator held for them. it's a pulse that goes straight to the heart. his body warms with appreciation and tranquillity, and he knows that he has a place here.

[reilliane]

Absconder ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various

A/N: Another scenario that came in my head in the middle of doing plates at two in the morning. MC is from Khaenri'ah. But to be specific? Ehe, she's a part of the Eclipse Dynasty!

I am so into royalty and I think it's showing-

✤ she/her

✤ Mentions of death and violence

✤ Lis: Albedo, Dainsleif, Kaeya, Venti, Zhongli, AbyssPrince!Aether

✤ Concept: The male Heir in the BP cutscene (MC thinks it's Aether-) helped flourish Khaenri'ah + Khaenri'ah was destroyed by the Seven and the Heavenly Principles

≿————-　★　————-≾

A region without a deity. No one thought it to be possible, yet here, your Kingdom stands, the quintessential example of the impossible and the taboo. Defying the natural order is what you and your people have been doing, yet still, everyone is happy. You've heard all about it from your father, the King, who spoke of stories upon stories about the upbringing of Khaenri'ah and its advancement over Teyvat. It begins with an ambitious young man who bears the likeness of the sun, and a few of the people who follow his ideals, to recreate the nation he flourished over time.

"He did not wish to be a leader, however," your father had spoken. "Because in the first place he did it for the people, not for himself."

So it's the people themselves who chose their King, and the man of the sun, deeming his work done, retreated into the shadow. It was only when the nation he helped bring up was in trouble did he ever reappear. You've never seen him once —not yet, but you didn't know that— and your father often finds it funny that you dream of the sunchild like an eager kid would do. But eventually, the wish becomes a transient memory from your childhood. And you grow up to learn the ways of handling the rich Kingdom of Khaenri'ah. It had been going well. But you were unaware of the growing greed in your father's heart as well as some of your people as he set foot to allow the creations of Rhinedottir flock and bring about an order against the divine overseer in the heavens. To the weaponry, machinery, and artificial beings created by Alchemists in pursuit of their idealized justice against the Heavenly Principles, you turn a blind eye. All until you couldn't, any longer. Until the cataclysm unfolded — and the Kingdom was made a witness to Divine Punishment.

it was a miracle that you had been saved from such consequence, though up 'till the present day you think that you're unworthy of such mercy, and should've shouldered the same suffering your people did.

Dainsleif

Inarguably one of the closest to you and your father, being a part of the ranks meant to protect the royal family. His surreptitious nature does not stave you from befriending him—and it doesn't seem to go any farther than that. He is the Knight your father has assigned to be at your side after taking note of your close friendship with him, and it's a title you gladly remind the blue-eyed swordsman. A close friend and a protector. He'll go silent when pressed with state affairs, mainly the machinery of 'peace' being made by the Kingdom. Dain doesn't seem to favor the presence of gods and is actually wary of them, going as far as to argue with the King one night about 'daring to test the patience of the divine'. It was an argument that cost the both of you your friendship, for after that debate with your father, after you came to console him — Dainsleif had left. And you never saw him again... until centuries later.

"Father...!"

"Run... [Name],"

SPLAT!

Violet is meant to be beautiful, and though it does present itself that way as it coursed through the neck of the King in a bout of a second, it's instead horrific when complemented with red.

Godly beings decked from head to toe in white and purple stands before the set of thrones, the sympathy in her eyes clouded by order and obedience.

Your breath hitches when those eyes land on your frozen form and albeit horror swarms through your limbs when the woman begins to traipse towards you, you can't find yourself to move.

It is only when she had solemnly uttered a, "I'll make it swift, child," did you recover from the iciness—and you're bolting down the hall.

"Dainsleif!" you remember crying out, voice tight as you saw the raging inferno outside the palace. "Dainsleif, where are you!?"

There are screams and pleas for help everywhere. Your people—slaughtered.

You can faintly recall being hurried to your room by one of the other Twelve Knights, but the details are nowhere near close to the one you have of the massacre.

And of the man you've searched for in desperation.

"Your Royal Highness..." the look in his eyes is something you can savor for eternity. "... [Name]."

Now he speaks your name with the same sentiment you've had for him five hundred years ago. The Traveler at his side, Lumine, eyes him in confusion, probably wondering how you are attributed to the bough keeper.

Though the blonde can't focus too much on him now that she's face to face with her own twin sibling standing at your side.

Oh, Dain, how you've changed. You exhale softly, clasp on the sword you've used to save the Abyss Herald growing tight.

"You're alive, but- how is this possible-"

Ah yes. He's traveled with Aether, has seen the other side of the Abyss, yet he's never once seen you. Naturally, seeing you alive—and free from the curse that has been put on your people—has taken him by surprise.

Shaking your head, you turn your back against him, like did to you—to your father, to Khaenri'ah, when they needed him.

When you needed him.

"Farewell, Knight." you hope your voice of indifference is able to pierce through his wall. You've a feeling it did, but you aren't looking back to see. "May the blade of your sword never rust."

Not once did he look over his shoulder the night he had fought with your father, not once did he glance your way before he disappeared.

So you have no problem returning the same thing he had done as you enter the abyssal portal with the Herald acting as your close guardian.

You have no problem disappearing on him when he follows close behind in a futile endeavor to catch up. He had trampled over your hopes and desperations.

So would you.

Kaeya

You've heard of Khaenri'ah's saving grace. Throughout his journey, you've personally seen to it that you monitor him just in case things get awry. And it's not because you're worried over matters concerning your ruined Kingdom, but because the eye-patched man is a part of your people. He has suffered a great length of tribulation to get to where he is now, and you make sure to remind him of it whenever possible, though doing so now that he is a Captain has become increasingly difficult. So on certain nights, you will rendezvous with him and simply catch up. You are a secret known only to very few people, and he plans to keep it that way. Not only must your life be kept a secret, but the identity and the crown over your head, as well.

A timeless princess.

Kaeya's heard all about it, and dare he confirms its legitimacy? Yes, though he dare not speak of it so casually, wary that he may upset the girl.

For that princess no longer has a place of her own, nor people to look over. No longer does she bear the crown, for she's long since absconded the throne when the Kingdom had been set into ruins.

Still, Kaeya thinks of her as royalty.

"In the end, when it is brought from the ground up, only you will lead us again. Don't you think so, princess?" he hums one silent night as he offers you a sweet treat.

Plopping the delicacy in your mouth, you close your eyes, trying to revisit the same grandeur the palace had in your memories. Alight in gold, pearl, and marble, nothing else can compare.

But such prettiness can now only be revisited by the mind, no longer by the person.

"It is not wrong to dream, but see to it that it is a dream that can spare your life," you smile at him, patting his shoulder like you'd do when he was a child.

"You're one of the last few, Alberich... I didn't look after you from afar to have you throw your life away for my sake."

He chuckles, nodding and abiding by what was requested of him.

The night grows steadily silent afterward, nothing but the lulling sound of the wind encapsulates the cliffside. It is a transient kind of peace, at least for him.

Whenever he looks at the timeless royal occupying his right, her eyes will always be faraway, clouded and troubled. Without a doubt, lost in the past as always.

In times like these did Kaeya sometimes wished he'd been there to see the horrors for himself because at least then, the royal would have someone who shares the bitterness of long ago.

He hums, fingers clasping around a thin, circular branch he managed to find on the ground.

The sound of frost has you looking at the man, only to blink steadily when he places a crown fashioned of ice on your head.

The circumference is cushioned by a garland of tiny flowers, therefore leaving no lingers of frostbite when put on.

"Wipe the frown off, it sullies your beauty."

Kaeya winks.

"I promise you, one day, you'll return to your people and they, to you. Then you'd bear the grace and power of the royal you once were to them."

Albedo

When he first opened his eyes and was deemed to be a successful creation, you were there. A beauty confined in a garden of thorns is how Albedo would describe you. His master told him that who he just met was the Princess of the current dynasty, Eclipse, and if he so wished, she could arrange a meeting. He liked that, but the meeting never came. Not until centuries later, actually. Long overdue. When he had been investigating the bolstered creatures influenced by Durin in the snowcaps of Dragonspine, the same beauty hailing from the antiquity of his memories appeared, seemingly untouched by snow. Spared from the curse that plagued the people of Khaenri'ah.

Albedo reminds you heavily of the female Alchemist, both in how driven they are to search for greatness and life. Its impressiveness is almost sickening. They are both bombs in waiting.

But this primordial creation has something that Rhinedottir has less; humanity, which is ironic, given Albedo's artificiality.

Perhaps that is why you are able to tolerate his presence and eventually find him endearing. That's of course, outside the times he asks for permission to experiment on you.

You let him do it, sometimes.

For there in you resides a bleak hope that the curse on your people can be lifted by Alchemy. And no one but Albedo will be able to do it.

"Your blood astounds me to this day," it's just now that you're reminded of his bluntness as he collects another sample of your blood for his experiments.

He lifts the test tube, showing to you a glistening hue of [c].

"It had been red before," you inform him, giving your thanks after he patches the small wound up. "It changed after I went to find a home in the Abyss. It's a nice change."

If he's glad about the new bout of knowledge about your origin, he doesn't show it so candidly. He has an immaculate skill of hiding his reactions for some reason.

It used to unnerve you, but now? Not so much.

He sees you out to the entrance of his camp, boots being eaten by the snow.

It will be a long time before you'll show up again. A few months, if he's lucky. It has him sighing mutedly.

"I've always wanted to meet you ever since I saw you in my Master's office..."

"Oh?" You stop in your tracks to look at him over your shoulder.

So he remembers the time when you first saw one another? That had been so long ago...

Still, the thought has you smiling, bemused.

"I'll return to you, Albedo, you can count on that."

His gloved hand attempts to catch one of the diamonds that appeared as you vanish into the abyss, the trail of stars being the only trace of your presence.

He hums, eyes staring through the heavy snowfall.

"I will wait, then... Princess."

Venti

The Windborne Bard could recall in vivid detail the blood that had been spilled in the cataclysm. He does not like such things, of course, but he hadn't been able to do anything but obey. An Archon he may be, he remains a pawn to the Heavenly Principles, a fact he detests the most. Power always comes with sacrifice, after all. When he had smitten Khaenri'ah with tempests and gales as sharp as silver blades, the color of his Anemo couldn't almost be seen. Far too stained with red. When the people were at his mercy, their screams can't be heard through the turbulence. So, until the present day, the echoes of the cries he has turned away from remains as haunting as ever. And he didn't like it — doesn't like remembering something he was made to do.

He cannot believe his eyes.

It seems like a bad twist of fate has made itself known in the form of a [c]-haired female who appears strikingly similar to the last princess of the Eclipse Dynasty.

A reincarnation? The logical cogs in his mind turn. He's a second away from believing this theory, but the way she stared at him as if familiarizing him from someplace is too much.

He knows it's her.

But how? He wonders as he ambles towards her closer, making his way through the crowd, his performance long forgotten. How are you alive?

Was the Electro Archon unsuccessful? She had been the one to go after the royals inside the palace.

Venti is at a loss by the time he's standing in front of you, teal and aquamarine eyes wide in what you can decipher is fear and genuine surprise. The crowd has long since dispersed after finding out that the bard's performance will be done for another time, leaving the two of you by the plaza.

You raise your fingers, brushing through the bard's bangs whilst keeping a pointed stare against his eyes.

Unlike before —unlike centuries ago— they lack the hostility, which you suppose is natural, for war has worn him out. The danger in his optics is reminiscent of the Electro Archon's.

For some reason, they only ever appeared hostile because they too had been following orders.

"By the gateway to Celestia, you sing praises of the old world..." you swallow thickly, "Forgetting the destruction you've dealt upon my land. Does it not mar your conscience at all, Barbatos?"

His breath hitches at the usage of his name and you drop your fingers, averting your gaze with a sigh.

It's useless to question the conscience of a murderer.

The bard catches your wrist before you can leave and you recoil in shock, catching the burst of eagerness in his face.

"You of all people, who have studied the heavens, should know that what we've done was out of—"

"I'd like it if you are to let go of me, dear bard. My Prince would not like this."

He lets go, stunned. Prince?

As far as he knew, you hadn't been betrothed to anyone during your prime. So who-

His eyes widen. Could it be?

The smile on your face is bittersweet.

"Best watch your nation, Barbatos. We wouldn't like it to be the receiving end of a destructive encore, now, would we?"

Zhongli

This man, too, bears the weight of his actions. But he does not regret doing what had been written in a contract. Contracts are, after all, the primes of his very being. Upholding them to the highest degree goes without saying, though of course, that does not rule out the existence of his personal feelings. The war left him questioning the morality of the divine for centuries. He feels conflicted, but who is he to answer against the Heavenly Principles? Perhaps if he had the courage to sever his ties with it like he did now, things could've turned out differently. It is a branch of life he often finds himself dwelling over. But what's done is done, and the great empire of Khaenri'ah had crumbled. No pillar of its strengths remains, or so he thought.

A warrior such as he... does not regret, but alas, it is only when everything has already settled to dust does he begin to acknowledge the unmerciful slaughter from the cataclysm.

For once in his life, he cannot stand the sight of the brewed tea served in his cup, a pleasant color of crimson.

Which is absurd, because since when had he been fazed by the reminder of blood? It starts now, it seems.

It's rather comical—and insulting. But time changes people, there is no other explanation, and he's no stranger to it.

"Hey there! Sorry I'm late, I was holed up for a second there," Childe greets as he takes the seat in front of the amber-eyed man, who shakes his head.

Now having a reason to not indulge himself with today's tea, Zhongli dismisses his companion's worry.

"There is beauty in the transience of moments. It is alright, don't rush,"

"Transcience huh? Well, my friend surely could vouch for that. [Name] barely shows herself nowadays and when she does, it's only for a brief amount of time before vanishing."

His heart skips a beat. [Name]?

What are the odds that Childe's friend is just someone with a similar name?

"Yeah, [Name], right there! Heya!"

When Zhongli's eyes flutter through the sparse crowd, they travel and pinpoint to its target with relative ease. His breath gets caught in the claws of his throat.

He thinks his mind is playing tricks when he stares at the [c]nette from afar; dressed in regalia fitting for a Princess, though her gown is smeared with blood and her crown is tumbling from her head.

The smile on her face is foreboding as if she's warning him of a return that will throw the heavens and the earth in another round of cataclysm.

And Zhongli cannot help but feel dread as he watches her vanish before his own two eyes.

He knows too well, the vigor of a victim who seeks revenge.

Aether

He's not the sun child from the legendary tales your father has uttered, but he remains your savior. And long still do you believe him to be a Hero in his own right. Even if his present musings spell him a cold-hearted man with a wicked moral compass. You will never forget that time of twilight, five hundred or so years ago when you're at the brink of death and he crashed through your window, demanding desperately for you to go with him. 'Just one is enough... if I can save just one of you, it's enough.' He had been muttering it as he flew, hiding you from the eyes of the Divine and the Seven. Into the Abyss — a place he promised you will keep you safe, he brought you to.

"Must you leave?"

His voice, no matter how low, manages to come off as loud in the abyssal hall presently empty of his underlings. You look at him, surveying his figure sitting on a throne, beside an empty one.

You nod, closing your eyes with a gentle intake of air.

"The alignment of the stars today makes it easier for me to return without any hassle. I wouldn't be long," with a curtsy, you swivel with the plans to depart as soon as possible.

The moon will be whole tonight, you must take this chance to leave the Abyss and visit your ruined lands.

You find yourself unable to take a step further, though, for with the flutter of the wind and the snuggle of someone's warmth at your back, you're glued to the ground.

".. Aether," you muse as he holds you close.

His hold is tight and secured.

"You must be careful," he buries his face in the crook of your neck, refusing to let go. "Venturing to a land so far... if Celestia takes note of you still alive after those years, then... I.."

Ah, so that is his matter of concern.

Turning in his arms so you face him, you rearrange his golden locks, coursing your fingers through them and playing with the halo of stars that recreate the crown atop his head.

He plays with yours with a minuscule smile, reminding you of your own headpiece.

"If my departure ails you to this extent, then I can save it for another time," you rest your head on his chest after snaking your arms around his waist, returning his embrace. "Nothing beats me more than seeing you upset."

"I'll accompany you in your visit next time, I assure you, it's just that Celestia has been more alert now that my sibling has been tipping over the scales."

The echoes of his whispers are peculiarly soothing as they ricochet off the starry-like environment of the Abyss, and you find yourself smiling.

His touch is so lulling.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you listen closely to Aether.

"For now, stay a bit longer. You are safe with me, my Princess."

≿————-　★　————-≾

a/n: i genuinely love this so much you dears have no idea- jUST MC ACTING LIKE THAT ONE MESSENGER WHO GOES "Thing's about to go down in your place." And Aether has her at his side. Prince and Princess duo because yes.

ABYSS PRINCE!AETHER IS JUST TOO-UGHHH- DOWN BADDDD

Albedo and Kaeya have the highest possibility to be MC's consorts but the decision is up to Aether because if it's not obvious, he's taken dibs- this harem i likey- /slapped

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙