ahlite-a - Tumblr blog

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

haha wow

@ahlite / @devolusion

[ahlite-a]

what if i remade....

[ahlite-a]

She wants him to be selfish / greedy / she wants him to take, take, take. she doesn't want that. the whole world takes. he's the only one who gives anything back. He asks about the world and how it takes, a one of their hands raises, trembling slightly; hovers between them. Then it presses to the center of his chest, where he once pressed his hand to hers. "No new scars," is her soft answer — her voice is gravesoil, freshly dug; Fontaine did not treat her justly but it was better than most of the others. The betrayal here was too familiar to really wound — a brother and sister, she'd thought. At least they're both monsters, she'd thought. My brother became a monster and left me behind — and the god(s) too pathetic for much stronger feelings than pity. No abuses like Ei, no heartbreak like Childe, no betrayal like Zhongli. Just pathetic people using a pathetic kind of light.

No new scars. The weapon - god is too battered to dare ask for more kindness than that.

she encourages selfish behaviors out of him, promotes human yearning from a instrumental heart — how dangerous, he can’t help but think. it’s enough to make his smile shift only slightly, tuned a degree higher. ❛ it wouldn’t be fair to you, if i show up unannounced. i’d much prefer to send a letter signaling my arrival. ❜ or maybe a surprise visit would cause for an emotional reunion, filled to the brim with every sentimental necessity to mark off the checklist. but both he and she were not beings known for their.. expressiveness.. so would the purpose be met? do they need an outright display to mark the feeling? surely the humanity that surrounds him must be beginning to leave its mark, for why else would be humor such a silly thought? ❛ your travels have taken you as far as fontaine, correct? has the region treated you justly? ❜ a fear / a worry / an enragement and concern that they'll continue to be used and used and used —— was that just another truth to this world?

[ahlite-a]

They do not emote — they so rarely emote — and their eyes widen, just barely, lips parting, just barely. For the briefest moment eyes and freckles shine with something like terror, something like disgust. DIGUST? DISGUST? AT THE HIDEOUS COPY, FOR WANTING TO BLEED? WHICH ONE OF YOU? Her sword jerks back, body trying to follow — too close, too close, LUMINE ALWAYS WANTS TOUCH BUT NOT LIKE THIS, NOT FROM HIM. TOO CLOSE, AGAINST ME. Only Albedo can come this close, only —

"Stop!" He's surprised to hear something like — terror? — on his mouth, and that has him stilling once again. Lumine cannot remember the last time he was afraid. He can't remember the last time he wasn't, but not like THIS. They're not sure why. WHAT DOES SHE CARE IF THIS THING BLEEDS? ( not the blood, but the lack / she is allowed so few choices, now even mercy is being denied to her. ) She doesn't mean to move, doesn't realize she has until she realizes her hands are tight around its bleeding throat.

── how fascinating. how utterly, devastatingly fascinating. durin's heart beats steadily in tune with his ragged breathing, as he stares, wide eyed at lumine. god turned something lesser turned divine; he imagines her blood singeing his skin, where it falls in rivulets &. stains across the snow. it's not divine mercy that's stilling his hand now, it thinks idly, as its own falls back against the snow.

it's not a mercy that it'd take, anyways, it thinks, as it lunges upwards, dull sword splitting the skin of its neck. for a brief moment, rubedo wonders── will it blaze &. imprint his own star upon it? ── &. then it's pain. blooming, searing pain, as it sits up against lumine. “ fascinating, ” it breathes out with a grin, as something less than blood bleeds from it. “ you are terrifyingly fascinating. ” ( 𓏲 ࣪ ₊♡ ´ ೃ ﹕ ahlite. )

[ahlite-a]

The wound is — bad, not fatal.  Not fatal.  Worse is the way she bleeds / red streaked with INK, black, corruption / and it’s been like this for weeks and they’ve seen it before, but Lumine hadn’t bothered to process it until another was there with them.  Their legs give, hand pressing to the thick gash on their side as the battle ends and, ah, it doesn’t hurt.  She supposes she’d known othat the corruption she’s swallowing (  tears / sword / karma / poison  ) was starting to stick.  “It’s — fine.”

[ahlite-a]

queuein stuff for the besties and i love writing lumine they are so fucking miiiseeerrrrraaabbblllleeee

[ahlite-a]

It’s almost funny — that Lumine so rarely feels wounds, even severe ones, the sort that have Kokomi or Babara scolding, and yet this ache stings, sharp, when it’s merely PHANTOM.  She curls in on herself, arms wrapped around to grasp at the flesh stretched over their spine and across their back.  Teeth grit / it hurts it hurts / it hurts!!! / there’s no wounds were wings once were, but she feels mangled flesh nevertheless.  Softly, softly, sharp, “Hurts...”

[ahlite-a]

They don't remember how to smile / it's been months since they last managed. They don't smile, exactly, but their next exhale stutters, almost like a weak, unpracticed laugh. Flight. Flight. They'd — they'd given up hope that they'd ever fly again. Another something Aether and this fucking world stole from them.

Their next exhale stutters, too — but this is caught closer to a sob. Her shoulders buckle, head ducking, teeth gritting. The wind remembers her wings. The wind remembers her. The wind misses her. ( venti is the wind — venti remembers lumine — venti misses —— ) Lips part, but no sound escapes save for another whimpering, broken sob. Lumine hasn't cried for months, either, but there are tears, near - gold, faintly glowing on his cheeks.

( there's a part of venti that knows that it might be cruel, to do this. that doing so would open wounds that would take weeks, months, years to close again, that walking on the ground would feel like walking barefoot on glass. barbatos knows this, &. does it anyways, singing with the wind as they dance; venti knows this, &. does it anyways, hoping that the breeze will carry their apologies to them. )

“ no, ” they answer, daring to lift them a half a step higher. &. it's not a lie, really; in the air, she's at home, attuned to its hymns. but there's something else, too── one that venti doesn't know how to explain. a moment, where they sway in the wind, & another, before she decides to try. “ the wind ... remembers, you. remembers your wings. it's missed you. ”

[ahlite-a]

He's told them — more than once — that he cares for them. Thinks of them when they're not there, misses them, worries for them. It still startles Lumine, though, every time; yellow eyes widen, just barely, pale lips parting. It startles Lumine, to be treated like a person to be missed rather than a thing to be used. Jealous. The word stirs something in her. Aether cares for him enough to be jealous. "You could have," she answers, finally, sounding dazed. "You can — always come to me. I'll meet you...anywhere. I'm always waiting for you."

❛ klee hasn’t been able to stop telling me stories of your last journey together. she’s missed your company, as have i. ❜ there was a moment of consideration to keep the latter half of that sentence to himself, but why conceal an absolute truth? what good does it do to hide the yearnings of a —— heart? quiet smile graces inhuman features as he dares to turn towards @ahlite. ❛ it made me envious, that i couldn't accompany her. that i could've seen you sooner. ❜

[ahlite-a]

people / orgs lumine hates and would love to kill or see dead

childe

zhongli

the fatui and everyone involved with them (aside from any kids being used against their will, for the most part)

most of the knights of favonius

nimrod (has broken his hands)

albert (has broken his jaw)

scaramouche (yes, still)

the gods broadly speaking

ei is on thin fucking ice

[ahlite-a]

i dont still go here or really keep up with the plot but it is funny when something manages to cross my path. anyway i just learned that lyney and lynette are fatui and that the fandom collectively is mad at the traveler for being mean to them about it which is like. lmao.

[ahlite-a]

She thinks, Dainsleif is useless / and not half as strong as I am, even broken like this / and too ruled by his pathetic love. Lumine was like that, once. All love, all - full. Then Aether chose something else / Aether abandoned. Now, there's no warmth left in him — there's nothing at all except cavernous empty and fury and serrated, stupid need to stop. To KILL HIMSELF. She can't, of course, not while the world still has use for the tool that she is. BUT SHE CAN KILL HER MIRROR.

The thought of the catharsis that would come from caving her own skull in has her eyes shining, briefly, as if —— she feels like she's been starving, and if she bleed the other then that would be the first scrap in years.

No use for banter. Not when Lumine is so empty and not when Lumine is so dead. ( which? which? ) The star disappears in a flash of purple light / reappears at the other's back, expression flat, sword aiming to sever spine.

it's easy to laugh── shattered ribcages, hollow lungs── it's easy to stay silent, too. lumine looks at her &. sees / a face worn down around the edges / bloodied & broken wings, torn out of bone &. sinew &. flesh / something, something erased; a mirror in pain &. devastation &. a girl stretched too thin. he brushes his fingers against the billowing whisper of the winds &. wonders why fate has tormented them so.

“ i know, ” he says with a laugh, because it's easy / BECAUSE IT'S ALL HE HAS LEFT. “ i've let dainsleif try many times. ” he wishes it was enough── that the abyssal poison that runs through the earth / that the weight of celestia's chosen could crush him to dust. ( once, a long, hundred years ago, zhongli told them this: ‘ even a stone can tire. ’ ) maybe this, though, would be enough. something otherworldly &. strange, something familiar &. reminiscent.

the irony is not lost upon them. ( 𓏲 ࣪ ₊♡ ´ ೃ ﹕ ahlite. )