#the abyss prince

[genshin-impact-writings]

Contemplating whether I want to pick up The Abyss Prince again and actually finish the series... let me know if you'd be interested.

[freyrmichokolatte]

And so the Genshin theory dumping begins

To the people who completed the Archon Quest, I'm sure ur aware about the fact that The Abyss Twin belongs in Teyvat while Traveler isn't.

I have a theory; 500 years ago when the twins were seperated, The Abyss Twin died but his soul (I'll be using Aether here since I chose Lumine) was kept by Asmoday (The Unkown God).

Asmoday, for unkown reasons, killed a human and reformed it's body then placed Aether's soul in it.

Khaenri'ah was destroyed, Archon war broke yadiyadiyada Then boom Abyss Twin Aether

You know the rest

[waitineedaname]

now that i've finished tgcf i can make memes about all three books! i was tempted to put binghe at the absolute center because he could easily go into any quadrant at different points in his life, and both lwj and hua cheng could swing jock, but i think the most important thing is that wei wuxian is all four at once. somehow.

[piosplayhouse]

"Oh dear," the unicorn thought. "I must've really mucked up the story beyond compare! The Red Bull Luo Binghe is protecting the last unicorn scum?! Unconscionable! He should have driven me off the cliff by now!!"

[su-rodriguez]

This AU don't have sense. This exist cuz I like the aestethic of Kabukimono and Abyss Prince together, lol. This is something I wrote last year. Here the two "chapters" and two silly chibis

[unamazing-sheep21]

Replica

| I anticipated that you would be angry at me...

Abyss!Aether and Traveler!Lumine

Ragbros and Traveler twins parallels kept coming up in my head I drove me crazy... so I drew this to cope.

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -What if-: What are you? (Abyss Prince! Aether x Fem!Reader x Dainsleif)

This time short story of What if Lumine was your traveling companion. Also happy 4th anniversary to Genshin Impact!🎉🥳 Thank you Hoyo for all cute and handsome boys hehe

---------

It was supposed to be a normal day in your travels with Lumine and Paimon. It started with a commission where someone asked your group to go deep into the domain and retrieve some relic. 

-”Still not there… m-maybe let’s go back? Paimon has a bad feeling about this place.” Paimon was looking around, worrying that something would jump out at any moment. -”Don’t worry Paimon! With Lumine here, there is nothing to fear! And if things really go bad I will teleport us immediately!” You took the little girl's hand in yours to reassure her. -”So far we haven't even met any enemies so I don’t think there is anything to worry about.” said Lumine, looking around. -”Yeah!! and this is not normal!!” shouted the white haired girl. “Normally there would be some hilichurs!! Even the guy who commissioned us, didn't he say this place was full of monsters?! So where they are–” then your group heard something hitting the floor. Paimon screamed and held onto your head, slightly pulling off your hair. -”Ouch! Ouch-! Paimon! That hurts!” You shouted trying to take the little girl’s hands from your hair. Lumine meanwhile took her sword out, ready to fight whatever it was coming from another room. -”You should try to not be that loud in this place, The Abyss Order is hiding somewhere.” you heard a male voice coming from the room. -”Dainsleif?!” you and Paimon said in unison. Lumine let breath of relive, hiding her sword. -”Didn’t expect to meet you here.” She said coming closer to the tall man. -”The same goes for your group. Why are you all here?” -”We got a commission to find some relic!” you smiled, joining two blond people.  -”I see.” he looked at you and then at Lumine “I think for now you should leave, I’m not even sure what Abyss Order is planning to do here.” You and Lumine looked at each other and in unison said -”No way! We will help you!!” After seeing your both determined faces, Dainslef only sighed -”Alright, then let’s go. I can feel Abyssal power not far from here. And with that your group started to go deeper into the domain. You cam closer to Paimon and whispered -”See? There were no monsters because Dain took care of them! There is nothing to worry about!” Paimon crossed her arms, not really sure if there is really nothing to worry about.

At some point you reached the room where two Abyss Heralds appeared. Lumine and Dain started to fight them, while you and Paimon hid to not be a burden to them while they fought. But at some point both Abyss Heralds started to run towards another room. -”Don’t let them escape!” shouted the male, running after them. Lumine followed close after him. You and Paimon start to go after them as well when Paimon noticed something -”The doors are closing!! (Y/n) hurry!!” You ran as fast as you could but then you were stopped. It was like your feets got glued to the floor. -”Paimon!!” you shouted after the girl to grab her attention. Trying to move you noticed something dark around your legs. “I can’t move!” Paimon turned around wanting to fly back to you but then the doors closed in front of her face, leaving you alone in this place. You fell to the floor, nothing holding you in place anymore. You got up and run towards doors, hitting them. -”Paimon? Lumine? Dain? Can anyone hear me?!” you shouted, after moment of silence you head Paimon’s voice. -”(Y/n) I’m here but I can’t open the door from here!!” What should I do?! Lumine and Dain went further!” -”Just go after them! I will just wait here till you all will be back!” -”A-are you sure? What if something comes to you??” -”Don’t worry!” you turned around noticing that the way your group came in was blocked too. “All exits are closed, I think I should be fine for now!” There was silence for a moment, you thought she already left but then you heard. -”J-just stay safe okay?” You smiled. -”Okay.” you said calmly. And then there was silence again.

After some time you sat down on the floor, your back towards the door. “I hope they are alright…” you thought, worrying more about your friends than yourself. You sighed and brought your knees closer to your chest. At some point you couldn’t stand the silence so you started to humm some song. But what you didn’t expect is to suddenly hear someone join you and footsteps getting closer. You looked up and gasped. -”That's an interesting melody but it’s not from this world, is it?” the golden haired boy smiled to you gently. You got up, leaning more at the door. -”Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk." He stood in front of you and there is barely space between both of you. -”Shouldn’t you talk with Lumine?” -”Even if I want to, now it’s not time… So at least I want to learn more about you.” -”I don’t think there is anything interesting you can learn.” you turned your head from him. Wondering what to do. Is he going to hurt you? Should you run? Scream? He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. -”You whole being is interesting. You’re not from this world and yet you’re not someone like me and mine sister. It’s like you’re here and at the same time not. Why is that?” It’s not like you knew the answer to this question. There are some things you too don’t understand or how they work.  -”And this…” he took your hand holding it up so you could see it. “that white thread going towards my sister.” -”...W-what white thread?” you asked and Aether was surprised by your confusion. -”Ah so you can’t see it? Even those other threads that go far away from this domain?” They are not that easy to notice like the one you share with his sister but they are still there. -”I really don’t know what you are talking about…” you replied, even more nervous with him gently holding your hand. Aether was paying attention to your hand and then he noticed it. The served black thread… the same one it was on his hand as well. He was silent, glaring at your hand. This made you worried. Is he going to break it?! But then he closed his eyes and smiled. -”I see…” his expression now being more serious “It’s a shame he won’t give us more time.| -”Him?” But before you could do anything else, Aether grabbed you and jumped away from the door. “Wha-!!?” The doors were destroyed with two slashes, in their ruins stood Dainsleif. Aether still held you close and then whispered to your ear. -”Please take care of my sister.” with that he kissed your forehead and let go of you. -”Wait!” shouted a taller man, running to catch a gold haired boy. But he was too late. The Abyss Prince vanished. You were so confused. In such a short time many things happened. Dainsleif placed his hand on your shoulder. -”Are you alright? Did he do something to you?” you shook your head. -”I’m alright.” you replied, giving him a small smile. He sighed, placing his hand on your head and bringing you closer to him. You face got into his chest making your cheeks feel warm “W-what?!” you were confused by this. Then you heard Lumine shouting your name and her fast footsteps, Dain quickly let go of you and took a step back. -”(Y/n)!!! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!” She hugged you and then looked around your body to see if there were any bruises. -”I’m okay!! Nothing happened to me!” -”I’m glad! I’m so sorry I left you behind!” Lumine smiled but when you looked at her she had many bruises around her body. -”But what about you?! What happened?” You started to panic, already searching for food that will help her heal quicker. She only smirked and placed hands on her hips. -You should see the ones I was fighting!” she said in a proud voice. Paimon came holding onto some relic. -”Let’s get out of here! (Y/n) is safe and we got what we were looking for!” Everyone nodded and went towards the exit.

When you left the domain you wanted to talk to Dain about Aether but before you could do it, he already left your group. You pouted. “Why does he always have to leave so fast?!” Both Paimon and Lumine were surprised too that he left without any word. After taking money from the commission you went to the inn to rest. You were laying in bed while Lumine went to take a bath and Paimon went to grab food. You were contemplating whether you should tell Lumine about meeting her brother or not. And not only that, you looked at your both hands. Nothing there attached to them. “Is this ‘connection’ the white thread he spoke off? But then why can he see it and not me?”   You sighed, closing your eyes and laying your hands beside your sides. “It’s not like I will get answers… as an ‘observer’ I should be thankful that my body can be here in this world.”

The miracle happened, so cherish it and enjoy your stay in Teyvat as long as you can.

--- Thank you for reading! 💛

[ivyjinna]

Lords that abandoned their thrones

[ksiezniczka-lancelot]

The ley lines are a nightmare

[izunias-meme-hole]

Soulsborne Villains

[genshin-impact-writings]

The Abyss Prince: Ch.1

(Kaeya x gn!KOF!reader)

Synopsis: Kaeya and you have been dating for a while now and you both honestly couldn't be happier with each other - until Jean sends you on a mission that reveals Kaeya's deepest secret. And you learn that a dark past and your unwavering sense of duty could be enough to destroy a relationship that has always been too good to be true.

Chapter summary: You realize once again that being the child of an ex-Knight is one of the most difficult things on earth. (Title taken from: No Resolve - Surface Pressure)

Word count: ~ 3.5k

The masterlist for the series can be found in the navigation post on my blog.

Ch.1 - Surface Pressure

It was one of these days where nothing could go right, it seemed. First, you had overslept in the morning and barely had time to grab something to eat before rushing to the headquarters and reporting for duty, only to find out that the Acting Grand Master wasn’t there either. Then, you had completely forgotten to return a book you had borrowed a couple of days ago to the library, arousing Lisa’s anger in the process and almost ended up getting electrocuted which you had only been able to avoid by promising to buy her lunch today. And now, a couple of hours later, you found yourself on the training ground, together with your mother who had already picked out a weapon from the endless arms depot the Knights of Favonius called their own. 

You were annoyed and exhausted and definitely not in the mood for yet another training session with your mother but when she set her mind on doing something, there was no point in trying to convince her otherwise. Besides, she’d only see it as a clear sign of weakness if you told her that you were too tired, followed by yet another lecture about the importance of training. And then, she’d probably tell you that you could have a much higher rank if you only tried a bit harder. So yes, you were tired – but you also weren’t in the mood for one of her speeches. 

So, instead of saying something, you summoned your polearm and adjusted your stance. It was almost ridiculous that your mother still insisted on training you, even after you had been a part of the Knights of Favonius for a couple of years now. You knew that you were a skilled fighter and that Jean had no issues with giving more difficult missions to you. But of course, all of that wasn’t good enough for your family. You needed to be better, stronger, more successful, and if you didn’t strive for perfection every day, they acted like you wasted your potential. And no one ever asked if you were able to handle the pressure they constantly put on you. 

With that thought in mind, you stepped forward, putting all your frustration into your first blow. Your mother dodged the attack with ease, an almost amused smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Not quick enough,” she said and pushed you back, “you need to figure out your opponent’s next move before they even know it themselves.”

You didn’t even bother to reply because it was pointless to argue with her or to tell her that all of this wasn’t new to you. Heck, you weren’t an unskilled child anymore that had only learned how to use their weapon without accidentally hurting themselves (not that it had happened often – but still often enough for your parents to bring it up on a regular basis). No, you were an adult now, and you knew how to fight. 

You lunged at your mother again, the blade of her sword crashing against your polearm as you blocked her attack before you twirled around and aimed at her legs. She jumped backwards – and there it was, the tiny gap in her defense you had waited for. With one swift movement, you stepped forward and swung your weapon around. At the last second, she ducked your strike, once again using her blade to push you backwards.

“Not bad,” she panted, a barely noticeable smile flashing over her face. “You’re slowly learning how to use my weak points to your advantage.”

Slowly, you thought to yourself and huffed. In the past, you had fought countless battles against your mother and most of the time, you had been on par with her, although you knew that she would always deny that. Another reason why you hated to train with her – she was way too proud to admit her defeat, had always been. Sometimes, you wondered if it was because she hadn’t been on active duty for so long. She was still part of the Knights, yes, but most of the time, she was busy with caring for your father who still dealt with the aftermath of injuries he had suffered on a mission a couple of years ago. He had been a Knight before that, too, and you knew how much it pained him that he had to retire so early, no matter how many times others told him to stop living in the past.

You suddenly snapped out of your thoughts when your mother’s blade collided with your polearm once again, the force of her attack vibrating through your bones as you tried to regain your balance, tightening your grip around the weapon. 

“A fight is not the right moment to start daydreaming,” your mother reminded you, the tone of her voice almost a bit condescending. Through gritted teeth, you replied, “I know.”

“Then focus! You can’t afford to zone out like that during a real fight.”

You ducked under her blade, knocking her back with another strike of your polearm. The two of you continued like this for a while, dancing around each other, waiting for the right moment to make another move. Soon enough, you were both gasping for air but neither of you was ready to yield. Perhaps that kind of stubbornness and pride was something you really had in common with your mother. Not that you would ever admit that, though.

And then, you suddenly found another gap in your mother’s defense. This time, you took full advantage of it. In just a matter of seconds, you had her down on the floor, the tip of your spear pointing at her throat. “I win,” you stated flatly. 

A brief smile flashed over her face. “Indeed. I’m surprised you managed to beat me without using your vision, though.”

Ah, yes, of course. She would never not begrudge you for beating her, no matter how evenly balanced the battle had been. And that comment about your vision had been uncalled for, too. It was bullshit that she assumed you’d need elemental powers to win against her. Heck, you had never even tried to use your vision in one of your training matches because your parents had set the strict rule that you weren’t allowed to do that. They thought it would give you an unfair advantage – but you were convinced that they didn’t want you to use elemental power because they had never received a vision and weren’t ready to accept that even Celestia had acknowledged your ambitions. 

“Thank you,” you finally replied (because you knew that was what your mother wanted to hear) and reached out to help her stand up. She dusted herself down, adjusting her clothing in the process and fixing her ponytail before she looked at you again. Your mother, the always presentable looking Knight. “Don’t be negligent of your training,” she said, “and don’t rest on today’s laurels.”

You watched her leaving the training ground, once again wondering why your own mother could never acknowledge your success in the way you wished she would. Why she kept belittling you even after you won against her again. But then again, she hadn’t even been proud when you had received your Anemo vision, so there probably was no point in asking yourself these questions over and over again. 

But still, you couldn’t help it. 

You detached the vision from your belt, cradling it in your hand as you stared at the turquoise orb that was embedded in the golden colored frame, its winged shape typical for Mondstadtian visions. The orb was glowing dimly, an indication that it hadn’t yet absorbed enough elemental particles for a full burst. It felt warm to the touch nevertheless, the weight oddly comforting as your thoughts drifted off. Until the day you had received your vision, you had never realized how much you felt trapped in your life. It had never occurred to you before that you needed freedom to achieve your goals, instead of putting more and more pressure on yourself. Freedom to figure out who you were and what you wanted to do with your life, because so far, you had only tried to live up to your parents’ expectations and somehow lost yourself along the way. And when you had found the vision on your pillow back then, it had almost felt like a wakeup call to stop wasting your time with trying to meet your family’s ridiculous standards. Suddenly, you had realized that their expectations were nothing more than restraints that held you back from finding your own path in life and that you needed to free yourself from them if you ever wanted to reach your objectives. 

But realizing something and actually going through with it were two very different animals. 

Sometimes, you still struggled with casting your parents’ demands and expectations aside, no matter how hard you tried to let go of the things that constantly pressed on your shoulders. 

And maybe, true freedom was by far the hardest thing to obtain. 

- - -

Later that day, after running a few more errands for the Knights and reporting back to your Captain, Eula Lawrence, you could finally return home. Your head hurt, your joints felt sore, and you seriously couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and change into more comfortable clothes. But when you reached your home, a small apartment in a house near the market square you had rented from an old friend of your parents, you changed your mind. Yes, a relaxed evening at home sounded incredibly good – but what sounded even better was to spend your well-deserved home time with the person you loved more than anything. 

So, without any hesitation, you turned around, heading in the opposite direction until you spotted the familiar house with the timber framework that was nearly completely covered in ivy tendrils. Just the sight of it was enough to bring a smile to your face. You had so many wonderful memories of this place – and its owner, the ever so charming Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt, of course – that it felt almost like coming home.

Kaeya opened the door before you could knock, a soft smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and you felt a wave of relief washing over you. “Hi,” you said. The next second, you had already wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a much-needed hug. 

“Well, if this isn’t my favorite person in the entire world,” he replied with a chuckle and kissed the top of your head, “hello there, sweetheart.”

You stayed like this for a few moments, indulging in each other’s presence but soon enough, Kaeya pulled away from your hug to invite you in and close the door behind you. The neighbors were already gossiping about your relationship way too much, they didn’t need more food for their assumptions. Only yesterday, the old lady from next door had asked him when he would finally propose to you because in her world, it was just inappropriate to basically live together while unmarried. “(Y/N) is such a good person,” she had told him then, gently nudging him with her elbow, “you better don’t let them get away, lad.”

“I won’t,” Kaeya had said. And he meant it. If things were easier, if he were someone with a less complicated past, he probably would have asked you to marry him months ago. But that was truly nothing but wishful thinking. 

But anyways. Now certainly wasn’t the right time to muse about these things, not when you were standing right in front of him, the smile on your face not quite able to mask the turmoil of emotions that reflected in your eyes. “Rough day?” Kaeya asked softly, although he already knew the answer from the way you had basically thrown yourself into his arms as soon as he had opened the door. He pulled you close to his body again, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in the subtle scent of his cologne. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“My poor baby.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know. You’re probably tired of hearing the same complaints over and over again.”

Kaeya clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, I could never be tired of listening to you. If you need to vent I’m here. Okay?”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. But I think, right now I just want to shower and get out of these clothes.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is. And I washed the clothes you left here a couple of days ago and put them in my dresser, top drawer,” Kaeya said. “Now, how about this: You go shower and I prepare dinner in the meantime. It’s always better to talk while you’re enjoying a nice meal, no?”

“Sounds lovely. You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

He watched you making your way down the hallway into his bedroom before you disappeared into the bathroom with a pile of clothes in your arms. Would you still be so comfortable around him if you knew that he had never been completely honest to you? 

With a sigh, he opened the door to the kitchen. It was pointless to puzzle his head about these things. He should focus on the good things instead of constantly asking himself what would happen if you found out the truth. ‘And who knows?’ he thought in a fit of defiance. Maybe you wouldn’t be as upset and angry as he thought you would be. You loved him, didn’t you? So, why should you start hating him, just because his past was far more complicated than you assumed right now? Surely, your feelings for him wouldn’t change… right?

“Oh, stop it, you pathetic idiot” he mumbled to himself as he started to go through the fridge and the cabinets to figure out what he could cook for you. Thankfully, he had picked up a couple of groceries on his way home, or else, it would have been a pretty sad dinner, given the fact that he did only have a half empty bottle of wine and a block of cheese in his fridge this morning. He could imagine what you would have said in that case – in the past, you had told him often enough that he needed to eat properly to fuel his body and that he needed to take more care of himself. And funnily enough, Kaeya really had started to pay more attention to his health, shedding a few bad habits in the process, since you had officially started dating almost two and a half years ago. Sometimes, it still astounded him how much of an impact you and your love had on his life. Without you, he probably would’ve continued to slowly destroy himself with working too much, drinking too much, dwelling on the past too much. But every day, you made him see the good in this world – and the good in himself, too. You were the reason why he slowly started to believe that he wasn’t as dark and twisted as he always thought he was.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps Kaeya snapped out of his musings, and soon enough, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “Can I help you?” you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt. The scent of your shampoo filled the air, a familiar, comforting smell that Kaeya would always associate with you. 

“No,” he said, “just sit down and relax. You deserve some rest.”

- - -

“My mother challenged me to another battle today.”

Kaeya looked up from the dishes he had just placed on top of the counter. It surprised him that you wanted to talk about your day now, especially since you had carefully avoided the topic during dinner, but he didn’t mind it. He had offered to listen to you, after all, and so, he hummed in response, indicating that he was paying attention to the things you were going to tell him. 

“I won,” you continued, a hint of reluctance in your voice, almost as if you were ashamed to admit your success. It was always like that – you kept selling yourself short, no matter how many people told you that you were doing great. And although Kaeya didn’t want to make any assumptions, it was pretty obvious that your parents were the reason for that. They rarely acknowledged your achievements; instead, they kept putting more and more pressure on you, demanding that you strived for perfection in every part of your life.

You sighed. “My mom acted like my victory was nothing but a sheer coincidence. I know I shouldn’t be so upset about that because that’s just how she is – she can’t admit when someone’s stronger or more skilled than her – but… I just hate it. I hate how she keeps belittling me – like I’m still a kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Like I haven’t achieved anything in my entire life.”

Kaeya remained silent for a while. It wasn’t the first time you were having this conversation, and he had no idea what to say. Not because the topic annoyed him, no. He just didn’t want to fob you off with empty phrases that would offer next to no comfort to you. Usually, he was quite good with words, and he took pride in the fact that he always knew what others needed to hear to feel better – but in moments like this, when it came to you, he always felt so helpless. If only you could see yourself the way he saw you… Then, you’d surely never doubt yourself again. 

He turned around to face you, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. “We both know that’s not true,” he said eventually. “You’re one of the best fighters among the Knights, (Y/N). Even Eula thinks the world of you. I don’t know why your parents refuse to see that but we really can count ourselves lucky to have someone like you with us.”

“Thank you. But you don’t need to say all that just to cheer me up. There is a dozen of people out there who are stronger than I could ever be.”

“(Y/N), sweetheart, stop.” He took a step towards you to reach out for your hand, interlacing your fingers. “If I could I would tell your mother that she finally needs to get over her jealousy but since it’s not up to me to do that I can only tell you that you have absolutely no reason not to be proud of yourself. You’ve done so much for Mondstadt.”

You sniffled. “But why can’t they see that?”

The helpless expression in your eyes broke his heart. Oh, how he hated to see you like this, so discouraged and insecure, although you should be happy and proud and confident. In the blink of an eye, Kaeya pulled you up from your chair and right into his arms. “Don’t let them discourage you,” he said, his breath softly brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. “I know it’s hard and I know you can’t help but have these thoughts sometimes but please believe when I tell you that you’re enough. You don’t need to put this pressure on yourself.”

You didn’t reply but he could tell that you were trying not to cry. Just the way you had started to tremble in his arms was enough to tell him that. He moved one of his hands to the back of your head as he cradled you. “You’re enough,” he repeated, the tone of his voice still so tender that you could feel yourself melt against him. But your tears kept flowing, streaming down your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to pull yourself together. Your whole body was shaking as you sobbed into Kaeya’s chest, holding on to him for dear life. 

It was rare that you lost your composure like that. Usually, you were quite good at controlling your emotions, carefully locking them away, until one day, the house of cards you had built up around you collapsed underneath the pressure that weighed your shoulders down. 

Kaeya kissed the top of your head. “Shh,” he whispered, “it’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

He kept cradling you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, until your quiet sobs turned into equally quiet hiccups. And even then, he didn’t pull away. He would hold you in his arms as long as you needed him to, giving you all the support you deserved – and that your parents had always failed to show you. He could feel your lips quivering when you pressed a soft kiss to his skin, right above his collarbone. “Thank you,” you mumbled. In response, he only hugged you tighter. He had never told you and probably never would, but he knew all too well what it felt like to try to live up to others’ expectations, always afraid to fail. He understood you so well, and yet, he couldn't tell you.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider giving me some feedback and/or reblogging this chapter. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @ajaxstar @the-gayest-sky-kid @justrandomselfships @caesars-bubbles @the-fifteen @quixoticmirror (If you want to be added to the taglist send me an ask. Same if you want to be removed. <3)

[panisestgladio]

Oh Kaeya, Kaeya! Let down your hair!

[kradogsrats]

Revisiting the Arc 2 Opening

So particularly @raayllum had done some detailed analysis and predictions based on the comparison of Viren and Callum's variant arc 2 openings, but I want to return in the post-s6 space now that we have Claudia's opening as a third point of comparison because that addition has an impact on how the original two relate to one another and what each one is saying.

The basic sequence of each opening is the same: from the initial star-map zoom (associated with destiny/time-blind vision of future events) the camera circles the principal character, placed at the celestial Sea of the Castout, as they turn to stone. Aaravos's giant hand swoops down and plucks up the statue, now contextualized by size as a pawn or other game piece, to admire from within his prison with a satisfied smile.

The most important point to understand about this sequence is that Aaravos doesn't personally turn Viren, Callum, and Claudia to stone, but is able to capture and manipulate them as pawns because of it:

This doesn't seem like much of a distinction at all, particularly because the petrification that results in Aaravos's satisfied claim on each mage is a representation of dark magic, which is... what allows Aaravos to influence/control those who resort to using it.

We get the direct link between the heart, dark magic, and Aaravos's influence/control explicitly spelled out by s6, and (as many noticed before)... go figure, in all three openings the corruption petrification begins at the heart.

Now, Callum is actually the only one who knows explicitly about the connection between dark magic and influence/control by Aaravos. Viren has sort of intuited it by the end of s5, in that we can see by portions of his dream that he's aware on at least a subconscious level that he was not in his right mind during at least the latter half of s3. This is why the distinction between the petrification being a factor allowing Aaravos's control, rather than an effect of it, is important—the conflicts and dynamics being represented are more complex than that. For example: Viren's opening, it turns out, isn't about Aaravos at all.

That's a Reach

When the primary arc 2 opening, featuring Viren, was revealed as part of the lead-up to the s4 release, there was a decent amount of speculation as to what it meant—the connection with Avizandum's death was recognized immediately, but what did that signify? Would there be further-reaching direct consequences of Viren's involvement and the archdragon-killing spell? Would Avizandum himself somehow have expanded significance? What is Viren reaching for: Aaravos, redemption, another chance at life?

Mostly, it set the tone for s4 and arc 2 in general, particularly regarding Viren's character arc, with strong mood and themes of helplessness, the past, regret and consequences, cyclic harm, and (of course) death. Not even to mention the looming presence of Aaravos and his relationship with Viren as his pawn. It was a vibe.

It wasn't until after s5 and/or s6 that the opening came into full context: Avizandum, in his final moments, turns his back on the battle with Harrow—the cycle of violence that he, himself, has contributed to perpetuating—and reaches for the child he will now be unable to protect from that violence.

Viren, as it turns out, does the exact same, as we see explicitly in s5 and continued implicitly in s6. Like Avizandum, he reaches for his children, unable to save them from the damage he has already done—all of it through dark magic.

On its own, it's an elegant implementation of the parallels TDP is so fond of to demonstrate that both sides of this long-time conflict have inflicted harm on each other and themselves in very similar ways for generations. Even at the time of s4, however, we had Callum's opening obviously derived from Viren's, and after s6 we have Claudia's, as well—both of which come with their own context that builds off of Viren's in different ways.

Lost Child

So while Viren's opening actually has very little to do with Aaravos (prior to Aaravos's actual appearance grasping him as a literal pawn), Claudia's (and Callum's, which we'll come back to in a bit) is difficult to interpret as not being related to her personal dynamic with Aaravos.

Interestingly, Claudia's opening places her at a very specific point in time, since it's visibly between two major physical changes to her body/appearance—her lower leg is missing, severed by Rayla in the Sea of the Castout at the end of s5, but she still has her long hair from before prompting Terry to cut it off for her early in s6. Even more specifically, she has the half-and-half split of black and white hair, which is already majority-white in s6e1:

This is Claudia in a moment we don't see on-screen—when, having failed to collect Aaravos's prison and not knowing that Viren has been offered and rejected the Infantis Sanguine spell, she turns to Aaravos in the dark of night and is willing to do anything to save her father.

I could do a whole thing here about the nature of Claudia's perception of Aaravos as both a paternal and divine figure, but the relevant part is that her only association between dark magic and Aaravos is a positive one—as far as she's concerned, Aaravos gave humanity dark magic as a benevolent gift, and her main reason (at least that she's willing to voice) for hesitating to give it up is that Aaravos kept his promises to her and it would be right to keep her promise to free him. In her opening, she goes from pained and defeated to looking upward with total trust and hope—looking to Aaravos the way she would have looked to Viren.

Her petrification shares the single tear with Viren and Avizandum, really cementing her place as another loop in the cycle of harm between humanity and Xadia that has dark magic at its heart. That callback to Viren's opening also puts hers in dialogue with him as much as with Aaravos, placing her in the same position as he is in a reflection of his horror and dismay that she has followed his path and example so closely.

Given that Claudia dramatically changes appearance (and, to an extent, attitude) immediately after this opening is introduced, it's possible that we'll see a different variant for s7... but given the end of s6, she actually hasn't really changed all that much. She has doubts about how to proceed with her life after Viren leaves, but as soon as Aaravos re-enters the picture, her conviction is back. She may not have done any dark magic after s6e1, but I don't think that's because she's decided to give it up.

Key Framing

Given the context of Claudia's opening, Callum's opening becomes unusual because it references Viren's without tying back to Avizandum and that cycle of harm. It's still on some level about dark magic, but Callum's relationship with dark magic isn't tied up in family and inheritance like Claudia's and Viren's are—instead it's focused entirely on fate vs. freedom, and on Aaravos specifically.

Callum's opening appears only for s4e4 ("Through the Looking Glass"), where he is possessed by Aaravos and it is established that his single use of dark magic is what allows that control, and for s5e8 ("Finnegrin's Wake") when he uses dark magic a second time. The shared opening puts those two episodes in obvious dialogue with each other, since s5e8 never makes explicit that the danger of dark magic for Callum is control by Aaravos—something he has already asked Rayla to end his life in order to avoid.

The focus in Callum's opening, both by its visual prominence and Callum's own gaze directed at it, is the Key. While Viren and Claudia's petrifications end the way Avizandum's does—with the single tear—Callum's ends with the Key in a blaze of light.

I expect we will see Callum's opening return for s7, possibly even as a primary opening, but it will almost certainly be recontextualized at some point and possibly even changed to a variant that reflects that new context. The Key is an element that will contribute to Callum's doom or salvation—or both, as a key can both lock and unlock—and its prominence in his opening reflects that and will likely be informed by how that resolution develops.

All of Us, Stardust

Speaking of alterations to the openings:

The final, altered version of the Viren opening kicks off s6, acting as a last, fun little extension of the "is Viren dead?" cliffhanger of s5. Aaravos's hand reaches down as usual, but instead of firmly grasping the petrified Viren, he very briefly hesitates before pushing it slightly, instead. The petrified Viren then crumbles and collapses into dust.

We first saw (or rather, had described to us via frantic convention attendee note-taking) this opening at the first reveal of s6e1, which was originally shown without any of the scenes revealing Viren to be alive. There are a lot of ways it could be interpreted, from a straightforward "he'd dead, Jim," to my own kind of fanciful theory from the time regarding Viren, dead or alive, having been made unusable by Aaravos as a pawn.

One way to contextualize this opening is with this old illustration from Patience, which ties in closely with the Aaravos chess/pawns motif (and was a significant part of contextualizing the arc 2 opening as "pawns"):

Now, there are a lot of things about this image that are important, not least the confirmation/reinforcement of the chain of manipulation of dark mages by Aaravos across thousands of years from Ziard to Viren, with the implication of Callum in the future. What I'd like to call attention to is that in chess, tipping over a piece is a gesture specifically used only with the king, and specifically to indicate that you are resigning the game and the opponent is victorious.

I don't think there's anywhere we've seen Aaravos truly lose, except for possibly when he was imprisoned, because his plans have levels of redundancy that mean they don't depend on any given individual—a game of chess hinges on the king, but Aaravos is essentially playing six or eight interconnected games at once, and a loss on one board only reinforces his remaining pieces on another. Losing Viren, deliberately or not, empowers his influence over Claudia... exactly as we see in the sequence of arc 2 openings. It would be difficult for them to have replicated the tipped-over/toppled king imagery with the petrified Viren without having to do some labor-intensive camera work on the existing opening pattern (e.g. do they show the ground when he falls? What even is the ground?)—so I think there's a strong likelihood that him crumbling to dust is meant to have a similar resonance.

Anyway, I'm kind of dancing around some complex theorizing and analysis of Viren's death that I go back and forth on depending on the day, but basically I do still think the important takeaway from this opening variant is that as far as Aaravos is concerned, Viren is off the board. That it's the opening for s6e1, rather than a special use for s6e8 (as Callum's variant openings are handled) is also IMO a positive sign regarding Aaravos's loss of control and direct manipulation of Viren over the course of s6. I don't think we've heard the last about Viren, and between Claudia, Soren, and Kpp'Ar there will definitely be a multifaceted interpretation of his legacy with significance in s7.

Opening the Final Season

Ultimately, given the dialogue between the three (four?) variant openings we have seen so far for arc 2, I think for s7 we can expect:

the Callum variant will appear at least once

at least one new Claudia- or Callum-based variant, OR possibly even an Aaravos variant

a new variant (possibly one of the ones from the previous point) to close out the arc for at least s7e9

That's my fevered ramblings about this 20-second repeated sequence, thanks for coming to my continuing insane TED talks on this and other ridiculous topics.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#38 Brother said no

Lumine & Y/n: Childe, Dainsleif asked to us marry them!

Abyss!Aether*When he found out You and Lumine were romancing his most hated duo*The poor men. They shall recover...

Lumine: I said yes to him

Y/n*Nodding laong*Me too

Abyss!Aether: No.

Lumine: Yes!

Abyss!Aether: No.

Y/n: We weren’t asking!

Abyss!Aether: And neither am I.

[rush-the-stars]

new tricks

pairing: yandere abyss prince kaeya x gender neutral reader

cw: dark content, kidnapping/capture, the reader is treated physically well but is still captured/being held against their will, mentions of a punishment, strange and toxic dynamic, mildly suggestive.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune!

this is just a tiny drabble. don't squint at worldbuilding or plot lol. i had this idea prattling around my head and wanted it out. one day i will write the dark long fic of my dreams but today is not the day. thank you to @/lorelune for taking a peek beforehand and assuring me <33

on the back of your neck, goosebumps ripple to life. a chill races down your spine. you know it well—as intimately as you know the brag of your own heart.

sensing him, you cast your eyes up in the reflection of your mirror to catch the shape of him behind you.

you didn’t even hear him enter your chambers. but you’d felt him somehow, known his presence. maybe known his gaze on you.

(it burns deep and vicious to know his gaze. to become accustomed and attuned to him.)

prince kaeya smiles knowingly.

the dark glint to his eye lets you know he’s in strange ways.

“you’re getting quite perceptive.” he muses. “if only you’d been so sharp when i first took you, maybe you wouldn’t be here.”

you were just a naive artist from mondstadt then. a child who knew the sound of the wind in the trees and the birdsong that rose into the sky early in the morning. you knew the golden hills and the valley and a sort of freedom that made you sing like those birds in the morning, too.

(in the dark, he asks you to sing. sing like you used to, he says. and when you open your mouth, you’re always terrified of what will come out.)

now you sit tucked away in the gilded cage he’s made for you in a land far from your home skies. in a castle where the eyes of gods cannot reach you.

“you’re lucky i wasn’t.” you reply sharply, trying to keep your bite around him.

it grows harder and harder to.

every day the edge you’ve tried so desperately to keep begins to whittle away. it’s hard to always be angry. it’s miserable to always be vicious.

(and he’s never harmed you. not physically—just in stranger, worse ways. emotionally. mentally. you wish he’d just break a bone or make a scar, so that when it heals, you know you’re okay again.

it’s worse that he spoils you. it’s worse that he cherishes you. it’s its own form of torment. he knows it.)

he smiles lazily, on the edges are amusement. fondness. he is endlessly entertained by your contempt.

he approaches where you sit in front of your ornate vanity. it’s too beautiful. it’s too grand.

he’s a dark shadow of blue behind you in the mirror. you watch his reflection carefully. he watches you back as he approaches.

something thrills inside you, wild and dark and sudden.

he reaches out, touches your cheek.

you watch his knuckle brush against your face in the mirror.

he’s testing you.

the last time you bit him.

the moment you turn your face towards his hand, it slips away, dancing out of your reach.

he smiles again knowingly.

it’s insufferable.

sensing your ire, he says, “let’s play our game.”

you breathe hard through your nose.

you turn to face him so you’re not caught in his endless reflection. you glare up at him with all the vitriol you can muster.

(it isn’t much anymore.)

“don’t you have more important things to do?”

“nothing so important as you, darling.”

your teeth grind together. but you get out;

“i’d try to escape from the balcony.”

he tsks.

“the guards would spot you.”

“i’d poison the guards.”

he laughs outright at this, “with what poison?”

you feel heat in your face, but you press on, “the hemlock i’ve been growing in the garden.”

he pauses at that. tilts his head.

“my, you’ve gotten good. i can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“go and check.” you dare.

“maybe later.” he agrees, “say i destroyed it. i froze it.”

“you’re not playing fair.” you accuse.

he laughs warmly, reaching out again to tousle your hair. you swat and push at him, but it only excites him, it only makes his hands catch your wrists and come down to your level. kneeling beside you. he holds your wrists tight, presses them down into your own lap. in another world, he could be a lover on his knees for you, his hands clasped over yours.

he fits himself between your legs. he presses himself too close.

but it isn’t another world. and his eye is like the endless night sky in this one. so dark, so terrifying.

“fine,” he agrees pleasantly, “the guards are poisoned. you slip out from the balcony. i’m a light sleeper—i hear you jump to the ground.”

“i try to run.” you breathe.

“where would you run?” he asks, nose nudging yours. you can feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

“past the fountain.”

“come now, you’re cleverer than that. i’d find you and drag you back.”

“i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.”

your nails bite into his shoulders as he lifts you from your place in front of the vanity. you hang around his neck like a child. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist.

you tuck your face into his shoulder so you don’t see the pleased look in his eye.

you know where he’ll take you.

“you need new tricks.” he hums as he sits on the edge of the bed with you in his lap.

“maybe i already have them—if it’s a good trick, you wouldn’t know.” you mumble into his shoulder. you hide there.

his hand creeps up to the back of your neck. goosebumps prickle. his fingers slip into your hair and then curl into a loose fist. he tugs gently to dislodge you from his shoulder, to pull you away so that he may see your face again.

he looks at you as if he’s trying to find the trick you speak of. perhaps it’s in your eyes or the set of your mouth.

“i always know.” he warns.

“let’s play again.” you say.

and this time, you use your weight to push him down onto the bed.

he goes down willingly, too easily.

you capture his wrists the way he did to you earlier. you pin them by his head. languidly, he stretches beneath you, amused with this show of sudden power or interest.

“okay, you begin.” he says and his smile is the curve of a laughing, crescent moon.

“i grow to trust you.”

he tilts his head, uncertain or intrigued, you can’t tell. but you can tell you’ve surprised him. his smile falters.

“i’m pleased—you know it’s all i want.” he says and though it’s softened, it’s guarded. you can feel the way he tenses beneath you, waiting, searching.

“and i grow to—to want you, too.” you say and your voice sounds strange to your own ears. far off. maybe too near. not your own, or else, horrifyingly, only yours.

perhaps there is truth there in a way you cannot even begin to untangle.

he’s silent. watching.

“what do you do?” you prompt, breath hitching, almost beg him to speak. “play the game. it’s your turn.”

you feel his wrists flex, the tendons and muscles moving, encircled in your fingers.

“i—cherish you. i foster your desires. i give you whatever you want.” his voice is bedroom soft. his lashes flutter.

“freedom?”

he releases a slow breath of frustration. you feel it against your cheek.

“a form of it.” he answers. and then, carefully, you feel the shifting of his hand beneath yours. his thumb sweeps over your wrist, into your palm. “more and more as i grow to trust you, too.”

you let your hand open up to his, feel it bloom to the touch.

“being alone in the garden.” you press, “i ask you one day to tend to it by myself, when i please.”

he laces his fingers with yours.

“in time.” he agrees, “and you can tend to your garden alone. you can walk on the grounds, wherever you please. you can take dinner in the atrium or the greenhouse or by the lake. it could all be yours.”

you squeeze his hand, “say i earn your trust—let’s finish the game.”

“i give you the world.” he breathes it and you feel it against your lips, feel it somewhere deep inside of you. on the other, soft side of your chest, where your heart thrums.

you know he is telling the truth.

but it rings discordant inside of you. just as softly, you murmur;

“and then i disappear with it. you wait for me to come in from the garden one day—and i never do.”

the tender hold of your hand turns vicious, biting.

you bare your teeth and hiss, “i steal your world and your trust and the love you gave me and i run and run and run. until you can’t find me—until you can’t catch me. i do it when you least expect it—when i love you too much.”

he pushes and twists you under him. he presses you down hard like he could keep you from disappearing, like you’re slipping from him already. but you press on;

“and you’ll see my face everywhere—in the windows of the atrium and the corners of the greenhouse. in the hemlock i grew in the garden and the wind that howls while you stand on the balcony. but i’ll be gone—“

“you’ll never earn my trust now.” he warns, “and you’ll never know the garden alone, or the world i could give you.”

“but i’ll know the one you took from me.”

his eye flashes dangerously, the flicker of frigid, dark waters beneath ice.

but then he’s gone. off of you. the warmth of him leaves you in a rush.

he grabs for a coat of his, throwing it over his shoulders in a flare of dark fabric.

“where are you going? i thought you wanted to play.” you sneer.

“and i thought you didn’t?” he heads for the door anyways, “i’m going to the garden. alone.”

“scared you’ll find hemlock?” you ask.

“are you scared i’ll find hemlock?” he retorts and then lowers his voice, almost to a caress, “i would punish you.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.” you tilt your head, “maybe you need new tricks.”

the door slams behind him. you don’t even flinch.

and in a moment, you watch his figure, a dark smudge against the gray fog, trudge out towards the garden.

you watch from the balcony.

there is no hemlock in the garden.

and he is gentler again when he returns that night. but he locks the door to the balcony and he keeps the key tethered around his neck, pressed to you as he holds you; so close and yet so far.

you can feel it’s cool metal against your bare back. you can feel his skin to yours, the way he holds you like you’re going to slip away.

there is no hemlock in the garden, but there is nightshade.

“let’s play our game.” he whispers that night, pressing scattered kisses like falling stars along your shoulder, your jaw.

“i steal the key around your throat. i unlock the balcony door—“

“i hear you. i let you go, anyways.”

you go perfectly still.

“i—i climb down the balcony and i run—“

“past the fountain?”

you nod slowly. you feel your heart kick into an unsteady rhythm.

“i let you go. i let you get far.”

“you’d let me—“

your throat constricts; a ball of emotion wedged there suddenly. you feel your eyes prick with—with shock. is he really—?

something terrified stirs inside you at even the thought of your real freedom; of the thing you want most.

“and then i hunt you.”

he kisses beneath your ear, like a lover.

your blood goes cold.

“i chase you across the world i gave you and the one i took from you. and every time, i find you. i’d find you. and i’d drag you back.”

“i’d—i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.” you manage to get out.

he props himself up, if only to catch your chin, to force you to look back at him.

he kisses you. slowly. sweetly.

“there’s no hemlock in the garden. you need new tricks.”

but the nightshade opens its flowers to the moon, just outside the locked door of your balcony, in the garden that you can’t tend to alone.

you melt into the kiss, open mouthed and tender. soft and deep like lovers.

when you pull away, you have the key dangling in your hand;

“and this isn’t the key to the balcony. so do you.”

when he kisses you again, brutal and dreadful, and with too much heat for someone so, so cold, you feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

and maybe even some sick curve of your own.

[madcat-world]

魂3系列 (4 of 4) - F艾服