#blood and earth (not theory and chalk)

[starg0ld]

Fragmenta Vitae (Prologue)

art creds: drosaxx on twt

❝ After albedo inevitably loses control, he pays the highest price by killing the person dearest to him. ❞

Albedo x Lumine (new note: originally meant to be an Albedo x reader, I've decided to turn this fic into an Albedo x Lumine. sorry for the short notice but as I was working on the next chapters I thought it fitted better this way. honestly I believe that a Lumine centered narrative can also be somehow neutral for self immersion. I'm trying to apply changes but tumblr doesn't work as I'd wish, tough I do not want to post it again. so, I'm sorry if the writing feels strange somewhere. if you want to check the other, better, versions, look at my AO3 and Fanfiction.Net account (also @/starg0ld).!! ))

Cw: death, murder, blood, slight gore, angst

words count: 2438

n/a: I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter!!! Which, more than a first chapter, is actually a sort of introduction to the story. The plot is based on the lore of one of my Genshin OCs, but I adapted it to make it more accessible for everyone. It's inspired by an old roleplay and one of my favorite movies, Poor Things (which I warmly recommend). Also, to me, Albedo's corruption happens just like in this fancomic. I highly encourage you all to read it because it explains exactly what happens to corrupted Albedo in my fic, and most especially because it's just so good and well-written to not be read.

"The universe, the sable essence of the starry void."

"Earth, the accumulative memory of time and being."

Many times throughout his long life, Albedo had imagined the moment when the precarious control he held over himself would shatter. He wondered what it would feel like, whether anyone would be able to stop him before he brought ruin upon everything, even Mondstadt, the city he had come to grow fond of. Each time he tried to envision that terrible eventuality, the scenario would shift, always different, yet eerily similar. There were unknowns, variables beyond even his rapid and analytical mind. No matter how far his thoughts could reach, there were things that even a brilliant alchemist like him could not predict.

"Soil, the origin of alchemy, the basis of all life."

Rhinedottir, his creator, also known as the infamous alchemist Gold, had always been forthright about his nature. She had never sought to conceal the potential faults in his very being, the price of crafting the perfect human, a prototype of divinity itself, a being who, in theory, could make the heavens tremble with his arcane essence. Yet Albedo had always dismissed such concerns, considering them distant and improbable, a possibility that almost didn't even concern him. That was until he had tasted the forbidden thrill of Khemia.

"The universe is the dark essence of the true starry sky, and the earth is the accumulated memories of time and lives. The chalk: that is you. The earth is where alchemy gets its name, and is the basis of all life. And this..." She demonstrated her technique before him as a huge life form burst from its culture tank in a shower of shattered fragments.

"...This is new birth."

Only then Albedo realized how fragile his understanding of the world truly was. There were far fewer certainties than he had once believed, but one truth remained absolute: meddling with the natural order always came at a cost.

"...Chalk, the substance from which primal life is molded."

The scene of him losing control had played out exactly as he had expected in his most tormented nights. It had happened countless times before, in the depths of his mind, each instance no less harrowing than the last. And yet, this time, something was different. This time, the nightmare had taken a turn he never dared to foreseen.

After meeting his dearest friend, Lumine, Albedo began to hope. Perhaps this mysterious girl from another world could be the key, a catalyst capable of neutralizing his transgression before catastrophe struck. Not that he didn’t trust his fellow knights and colleagues, but sadly, not even all the strength of their best warriors could have been enough. Albedo had no desire for his friends in Mondstadt to see him descend into something unrecognizable, least of all Klee, the child he had come to see as a sister. When he had met her, she gave him something even more precious than certainty, beside stealing his heart. With her, Albedo found a rare stability, a feeling he had never known before. Her smile and laughter lightened the weight of his turmoil, leading him to gravitate towards her. She was enigmatic, mysterious, a weaver of arcane arts, yet her charisma and charm had captured his mind. Albedo learned so much from her, from her creativity to the knowledge that sometimes seemed to test the limits of his own. Slowly, his world had softened, and for the first time, he dared to believe that perhaps, things did not have to end in disaster. As far as possible for a being like him, he could even live a normal life.

But fate had never been this kind.

For all the terrible outcomes the alchemist had envisioned, he never imagined this. Never had he thought that, out of all the people in Teyvat, it would be Lumine standing before him, facing him, fighting for him and against him, willing to sacrifice everything to save Mondstadt or him.

His memories were already fractured, blurred at the edges, but he could still recall the moment with painful clarity: the cold bite of a blade piercing his flesh, the sharp jolt of pain that, to him, had almost felt like a relief. Yet, a part of him that was not fully sentient kept finding new ways to attack her, to inflict the same amount of pain, if not worse, death. Both had begun to bleed, crimson on the carpet of white snow that covered the icy ground of Dragonspine.

And yet, her tears, warm and relentless, had rained down upon her cheeks, reddened by frost and fatigue. Through the haze of his faltering consciousness, he could heard her voice, distant yet desperate. Words he couldn’t fully grasp, but their meaning was unmistakable. Trying to bring the man she fell in love with back.

She had begged him to stay.

Begged him not to leave.

Begged him to think of Klee, of the little girl who would never understand why her brother was suddenly gone.

And the blood continued to flow copiously, carrying itself with the aftermath of the battle, the two exhausted and far too wounded.

"No matter how far apart we are, my soul and yours will always be intertwined." she said once, looking at the same sky that she dedicated to him every time.

Albedo hadn’t fully grasped the extent of the injury he had inflicted on Lumine. They had been locked in battle for quite a while, and the young witch’s energy was gradually fading. Blood surrounded them; she had lost a significant amount, and soon her blurry vision began to getting concerning. Despite her condition, she had still managed to stab Albedo in the chest.

Now, they were both laying together in the vast, icy wasteland that enveloped them. Their breaths were heavy and faint, both exhausted. However, Albedo eventually sensed that he was starting to come back to his former self, even though he felt weak and the pain was so intense it felt almost hollow. He could barely hear whispers, his beloved’s fingers tightening around his tense body. He began to feel a strange sensation crossing through his fibers like a stream, as if a hand was lifting him from the weight of his own flesh. A realization struck him as if another blade had been thrust into his heart. A bluish halo surrounded his wounds, suddenly lighter than the rest of the snow. He couldn’t believe that she was gathering her last strengths to perform that extreme gesture, a miracle and the greatest of sorceries at the same time.

A life for another life.

An extreme act of love and desperation. Lumine had performed a miracle, bittersweet, imperfect, a desperate attempt to undo what should have never been. For a moment, it had felt unreal, like slipping into one of his many dreams, visions where he had rehearsed, time and time again, the ways in which he might face his worst fears.

Albedo had never imagined, never dared to even consider, that he would awaken from his state of pain and confusion only to find her lifeless in his arms. The shift had been instantaneous, a cruel reversal of fate he could not comprehend. His hands, once steady, now trembled as they held her cold, unmoving form. Disbelief took root in his mind, slow and insidious, creeping through the cracks of his shattered reality.

His breath hitched the moment he saw her. His heart clenched, his stomach twisted, and the world around him blurred.

He dropped to his knees beside her, trembling hands reaching out as if afraid to touch, afraid to confirm what he already knew. But the moment his fingers brushed against her bloodied skin, the dam inside him shattered.

A choked breath left his lips. Carefully, so, so carefully he pulled her lifeless body into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She was limp in his grasp, her head lolling slightly as he adjusted her, pressing her close as if he could somehow shelter her from the cold that had already begun to seep into her skin.

She was gone.

His hand trembled as he brushed her hair back, fingers ghosting over her face in a motion that had once been second nature. Now, it felt hollow. His grip tightened as a sharp gasp escaped him as grief struck like a blade to the chest, raw and unbearable. His breathing turned ragged, erratic, as the reality of what had happened sunk into his bones, coiling around his heart like a vice.

It was his fault.

His arms locked around her, his entire frame shaking as he buried his face into her hair, squeezing his eyes shut as if blocking out the world would make this moment unreal. The tears burned at the edges of his vision, threatening to spill over. He couldn't hold them back.

His voice was shaking, broken and raw. “No… no, no, no…” His tone shook, barely more than a whisper at first, before rising into something raw and desperate. His body trembled violently, his grip tightening around Lumine as if holding on a little harder could somehow tether her to life. He pulled her closer, his hold almost crushing, terrified that if he loosened his embrace even slightly, she would slip away forever. Until a few hours before, her body was full of life, and now she lay cold on the blanket of snow. What a cruel joke, fate! And was he the one who had killed her…? No, Albedo couldn’t even think so. He didn’t want to believe it.

Memories assaulted his mind in rapid succession-fragments of laughter, of quiet moments, of the warmth in her gaze when she looked at him. He had taken all of it for granted. He had been so careless. He should have seen it coming. He should have known.

But he hadn't.

He had been too blind, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the signs, to save her before it was too late.

His grip trembled, his fingers digging into her bloodstained clothing. His entire body ached, every nerve screaming in protest, but he couldn't let go. He refused to.

She was still warm.

“Why did you do this? Why?” His breath shuddered, his words cracked and broken by the sobs building in his throat. “This wasn’t the plan. This can’t be how it ends. I—I can’t lose you. I can’t…” His usual composure, the mask of control he always wore so effortlessly, shattered in the moment he had her in his arms. The weight of Lumine’s limp body pressed against him, and with it came the crushing realization of what she had done. The responsibility. The guilt. The overwhelming disbelief. It all crashed into him at once, a tidal wave of emotion that left him trembling.

The snow around them had been pristine once, an untouched white expanse stretching across Dragonspine's frozen landscape. Now, it was stained with crimson. Albedo forced himself to look down. The blood pooled beneath them, thick and dark, seeping into the snow like ink on parchment. The sight made his stomach twist violently.

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

His breath came in harsh, uneven gasps. He felt like he was breaking apart, piece by piece, with no way to put himself back together. And then his gaze drifted back to Lumine’s face. Her expression was soft, but twisted, frozen in time. Pain. She had died in agony. Her mouth was slightly parted, as if she had been trying to say something. Her wide eyes-once so full of life-stared up at him, unseeing, unblinking. A gaping wound marred her stomach, her white clothes drenched in red. Blood had trickled from her lips, from the corners of her eyes, now crystallized into fragile, frozen tracks.

She had suffered. Because of him.

His breath hitched again, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore free from his throat. His hands trembled as they cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away tears that no longer fell.

It was unbearable.

She had saved him. One final act of defiance against fate, one last miracle-her life for his.

And what had he done to deserve it?

Albedo let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against hers, his tears mingling with the blood and snow beneath them. She was growing colder. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever. He knew, eventually, he would have to let go

But not yet.

Not yet.

His mind raced, frantically clawing for a way out, some other miracle that could undo what had just happened. But there was nothing. No solution, no second chance. The price had been paid, and Name had been the one to pay it. And he… he was powerless to do anything but watch as her warmth slowly faded.

The weight of it crushed him.

“Please…” His voice cracked, the desperation in it thick enough to suffocate. “Please wake up. Please don’t leave me…”

Tears streamed down his face, unchecked and unrelenting, as he searched for any sign of life. A flicker of breath. A faint heartbeat. Anything. But there was nothing. Deep down, he knew. He knew. And still, he refused to accept it. His alchemical knowledge could no longer solve the irreversible at that moment.

“You can’t be…” His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. “You were everything to me… please… please come back to me…”

His grip tightened again, his fingers digging into fabric and skin as if sheer force of will could keep Lumine with him. His face, streaked with tears, twisted with pain, grief and desperation bleeding into every word, every breath, every sob that wracked his body.

Albedo did not know how long he knelt there, how long he held her, his tears falling like quiet snowfall onto her still face. He might have stayed there forever, frozen in time, lost in a grief so deep it swallowed everything.

And when help finally arrived, when another voice called out his name, it barely registered.

Because Albedo, the so-called perfect being, the prototype of a god—was broken.

“I can’t lose you…” His voice was hoarse, broken. “I can’t. You’re the one thing in this world I can’t stand to lose… please… come back to me…” His lips parted, but his voice barely made it past them now, nothing more than a whisper. A plea. A confession.

“…I love you.”

And yet, no answer came. No movement. No breath.

Only silence.

[queenbol-of-baldurs-gate]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Ending Theory

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALSO PRETTY LONG.

So, as I was showering this morning I came to a sudden realisation through my DATV daydreaming.

It's pretty obvious going by the hidden ending slides that something or someone has been manipulating events through history that weren't the Evanuris. They sound evil, look evil, very mysterious and spooky.

And I think most people can connect the dots that we have already been warned about them in DAI and in Veilguard with the little message in the Minrathous printing house, about those strange chalk markings and about a "storm" approaching from across the northern sea, as well as infiltrators tracking the progress over the major protagonists over the last 20 years (and a hidden figure in the future?):

Plus Rook has seemingly been interacting with these hidden entities every time they upgrade the Lighthouse's core with the spinning rings, whispering to them all ominous like and foreboding.

So, this 'storm' has been manipulating and waiting and letting things percolate in Thedas for a very very long time, and it's only when Solas is sealed into the Fade, with all the other Evanuris dead, that they are finally ready to move.

And so it occured to me, just how long have these mysterious entities been waiting? Since the fall of the elven empire? Since the rise of the elven gods?

Or since the fall of the Titans?

But then I got really thinking and the biggest question that came to me as I was rinsing out my hair; what on earth convinced a spirit to take physical form, and become the first elf? The first evanuris?

Spirits, by Solas' own words, are driven by a purpose, by emotion, by what inspires them (do not get me started on who the spirits got the emotions they embodied from in the first place)- so what in the hell could've been so compelling that it drove a spirit, who are also famously very content on being spirits, to take lyrium from the ground and create a body like that? How did it know to do it? Why would it choose lyrium in particular, when this was a world that was filled to the brim with magic?

I think someone told them to do it.

So, my theory is that these mysterious entities, the Storm coming across the northern sea (where the qunari ran from), haven't just been manipulating recent events in Thedas. I think they have been orchestrating things from the very beginning. Before the first elf, when Titans roamed the continent, maybe even the planet, freely; from the rise of the spirits-turned-elves, their war, and their inevitable downfall of their empire. I think these things needed the Titans to fall, then they needed the elves they uplifted to fall as well. I think the creation of the Veil put a wedge in those plans, as well as the continued lives of the Evanuris that powered the Veil as well as Solas'. So they needed them to die too, as well as these pesky little humans that suddenly popped up and started taking up space. But the Veil was strong, and Solas had hid his resting place well, and the humans propogated like fuckin bunnies.

So you bide your time, and you nudge and pull at events to your liking, until the Evanuris die off one by one, and the Veil gets weaker and weaker, and the Blights kill off more and more of the mortals above and below the surface.

And then the protagonists show up. They all each kill a major, ancient demon. They all dig up and find ancient evils and secrets and artifacts. They each influence history in uncountable ways. One stops a world ending Blight in a year. One holds together a literally cursed city, built on top of a damn blood ritual sigil, for a decade. One seals a massive tear in the Fade, stopping a cataclysmic event. And one kills two gods and imprisons a third, holding back the end of the world for a third time.

So enough is enough. They'll just have to come over the sea, and handle it themselves.

[hazellvsq]

why do i think hazel is a seer?:

no other character who comes back to life experiences anything remotely similar to her flashbacks. hazel’s flashbacks are intense, completely accurate, and place her in the position of reliving her past while also observing it.

she not only has flashbacks of her own life but is able to reach into leo’s and observe events that she was not alive for, based on an invocation of her name - an event leo was also not present for until he was brought outside as a baby.

these flashbacks accomplish the opposite of what oracular visions should - there is no mystery and no insight to be gained. hazel reexperiences these events exactly as they happened, and learns nothing from reliving them. they only bring anguish. they function as a mirror instead of a bridge or portal.

so why can't hazel actually see the future, if she has the gift? because she's in it! when she shouldn't be. and if there are lessons to be learned from reliving her past, she has been promised that she won't have the time to do so.

like her cursed gemstones, her visions are a power that should bring benefit to hazel, but are instead perverted - her gemstones bring no wealth, her foresight becomes cursed hindsight. she is trapped in a hell of her own creation

hazel is able to navigate the labyrinth with preternatural ease. now, she does have underground powers. she is able to navigate any underground space with ease. so much ease, in fact, that she can identify when a space was built, and what it was used for - an ability that goes beyond forming tunnels. an ability that also calls to mind another character who can navigate the labyrinth - rachel elizabeth dare.

rachel, as established, is completely mortal, but is able to see through the mist more clearly than most demigods and has visions of events and people she’s never met - foreshadowing her decision to take on the role of oracle. one commonality hazel and rachel have is artistic talent. in a memorable scene from the last olympian, rachel draws a portrait of luke as a child, despite only ever seeing him as an adult. who else accurately produces a drawing of a person they never met? hazel, of calypso, based on nothing but leo’s description. is hazel a uniquely intuitive artist, did leo miss his calling, or does hazel have access to information she shouldn’t?

rachel can also see through the mist better than most demigods. hazel cannot - she is fooled by mist illusions. but she has another power of clarity - when she dies, she retains sentience when other ghosts do not. she chalks this up to being pluto's daughter, but this is never confirmed.

nico, as we see in blood of olympus, has the ability to move through dreamspace with lucidity and agency and takes advantage of this to communicate with his allies, as well as transcending actual, physical space with his shadow powers in order to teleport. hazel and nico’s powers are often shown to be complimentary: hazel has a basic death sense but cannot compel or summon ghosts, while nico can summon earth but doesn’t have the control or finesse that hazel does in underground spaces. however, hazel does aid nico in shadow travel, the only time the siblings have ever utilized the same power in unison, though it’s unclear if she is doing exactly what he does or if her “shadow travel” is a separate entity: manipulation of the mist. back to dreamspace, however - if nico has power over space (literal and psychic teleportation), does hazel have power over time?

the mist. this could use its own post so i won't elaborate here.

hazel's mother. unclear what she was seeing but she could be in conversation with may castellan as a mortal woman with gifts that attracted gods. while may castellan was a failed oracle, marie is something else. more akin to luke in some ways. not sure if this actually supports my theory or not but hecate explicitly tells hazel she has more potential than her mother did.

also worth noting that none of the prophecies in hoo or toa reference hazel - that is, none of the ones given in the present. the prophecy of seven had been known to the romans for a long time, and was given to the greeks before hazel was resurrected. the amazon prophecy about arion (which had no plot relevance? not important enough to even post about) again would have been given years before hazel was resurrected. every other character of the nine pov characters is referenced in a current prophecy at some point in pjo, hoo, or toa.

she's not the only character who has Something going on in this realm - percy's dreams, nico's ability to manipulate dreams and see the reality of tartarus, whatever clovis's deal is. but her visions/flashbacks are unique.

this is largely based on vibes i'm aware that most of this is hearsay and that her flashbacks are a narrative device that don't necessarily serve a character function. but I Want To Believe. tldr hazel for next oracle

[ironthraw]

Codex of Steam & Sigil: Throne of Rustflame chapter 1

WF·IRONTHRAW

Codex of Steam & Sigil: Throne of Rustflame

chapter 1:Rusted Epilogue, Elemental Overture

Damp mildew fermented in the attic air as Tom wiped condensation from the brass vent duct with his sleeve. The shadow of the Empire Building sliced diagonally through the window, dividing the gold-embossed cover of The Codex Elementalis into light and dark halves. Steam pipes roared beyond the walls, rattling the tin roof until it trembled.

"Elements are the warp and weft of all creation," he whispered, tracing the raised gear insignia on the title page. The yellowed parchment chronicled secrets from before the Steam Era—how the primordial elementals had ignited magma veins with molten fire and sculpted mountains with hurricane breath. An illustration showed copper-armored giants forging the first Elemental Resonator with lightning.

The bed frame creaked. Tom turned to see his rusted zweihänder trembling, its hexagonal socket in the hilt glowing faintly in harmony with the faded red banner on the wall. His father's legacy still bore scorch marks from lava wyrms on the blade—the same blade that had once sheared through steam armor joints when mechanized enforcers raided the slums three winters past.

Elemental coins rattled on the desk. Tom lifted one with tweezers toward the vent window, observing the fire elemental trapped beneath its brass shell like a firefly in amber. Second-class energy tokens like these were forbidden in civilian sectors, but nightwatchmen often turned blind eyes to military orphans.

When the pocket watch's gears aligned at midnight, he reached the final chapter. Marginalia crammed the edges of Steam Era 2010's entry, fresh ink still glistening: "Earth affinity 79%, Fire 62%—Old Charlie says dual-element thresholds over 60% exempt theory exams." His quill paused at the "Elemental Fusion" entry, where a crude hexagram diagram sprawled across the page.

A metallic screech echoed through the pipes. Tom snapped the codex shut, arranging six elemental coins into a defensive array. Mechanical rats gnawed at sewage lines below while drunken coughs and hissing steam valves seeped through floor cracks. He tore open his third shirt button, pressing the icy hexagram pendant against his chest. It burned like the blood moon that witnessed his father's hanging.

Moonlight fractured against the corroded blade as Tom channeled the last fire elemental into the hilt. Lava-like veins pulsed beneath the rust, molten gold coursing through metallic arteries. The wall banner billowed, revealing chalk calculations hidden behind: 37.8% Earth-Fire fusion success rate. East Gate, Imperial Academy, 8 AM.

Dawn prayer bells chimed from the Cathedral of Gears. The first sunlight pierced steam clouds to ignite the elemental coins. Tom bit open his pen's ink reservoir and scrawled across the codex's final page: "After today, the name Clyde shall be etched into the Steam Monolith."

[gladismajor]

"don't let numbers define you. you are blood and earth, not theory and chalk."

I miss when everyone on my dash listened to Welcome to Night Vale so there’s be a good chance that on any ole day someone would reblog a quote that would grab me by the throat and forcibly ascend me to a higher plane where I understood myself and the universe better and with more kindness but also a little spook

[gladismajor]

"don't let numbers define you. you are blood and earth, not theory and chalk." (from their twitter)

"you know, what with science, and all…uhhh, i– i– i just thought it was… time for us to… make a home together."

"but i do know two things." "what is that?" "i love you." "i love you too. what's the other thing?" "you just said it."

"we’re in trouble, carlos. i can’t stay chained to this desk forever, can i? and if the pilot means to destroy you, he might make – me do it myself. just promise me you’ll run. leave me behind if that happens, okay? okay."

Night Vale had some of the BEST one off quotes that would just suckerpunch you in the chest leave you breathless

Like the one that stuck with me was this one:

"when a person dies and no one will miss them, the mourning is assigned to a random human. This is why sometimes you just feel sad."

It's been almost 11 years... It haunts me in a good way