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chococolte · 9 months

Text

☼ — pietas maris

♱ : my take on sagau childe

including ☆! — him as a worshiper, and his reaction to being your lover ⛧

word count. 5.6k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl. ୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. now time for me to disappear back into the aether for another 6 months

The abyss is cold.

It is unfeeling, lacking warmth and passion. It is relentless, cruel, and unkind. It corrupts, ruins, and does so freely, without remorse or thought. It leaves you clinging to the hot blood in your veins, curled up and hidden in the dark reaches of its void.

Childe had always been versatile; quick to adapt, even at such a young age. He grew used to the emptiness, the swelling numbness, and the eventual gnawing loneliness left in his abdomen. They became a part of him as his lungs, as integral as air; to be without felt odd, foreign.

The glimmer of your existence kept Childe company. He did not know who you were, or how lucky he was— only that you brought him comfort, like an old lullaby, or a blanket worn from overuse. He reached for you when the darkness grew too much, too heavy a burden on his small shoulders.

He came to you with little offerings; small trinkets, tomes of unreadable text. Useless to him, but perhaps you would take pity on him in exchange, and let him take comfort in your presence for another day. Childe came to you with rubble shaped in hearts, the gentle breath of his voice as he spoke of his anxieties. He did not think of them as offerings then, merely gifts— pleadings for you to stay a little longer.

His hands, then unruined and soft, made you a makeshift altar crafted out of whatever he could find. He made sure to build it where he felt your whispers were strongest, where your light entirely overwhelmed the darkness overhead. Childe didn't think of it as an altar then, just a place to settle his findings, where he could pretend his sad, little effigy made of you was actually you.

The idol didn't look much like a person at all, and at the time, he didn't think of his behavior as odd. He desperately clung to you for survival, and with no other warm body besides his own, you were the only one he could talk too.

At times, he thought he was going insane. There was a pleasant buzzing in his ears whenever he neared your doll, as if it were calling him. Despite the fact that he had made it, proven by the tiny scars on his palms, he still felt as if it was yours.

In the darkness, Childe whispered to you. He said everything his mind could think, childishly exaggerated tales in hopes of impressing you. A foolish endeavor, considering you were a God— but he still hoped that maybe you'd think of him kindly, and let him bask in your protective glow for just one more moment.

He couldn't hear your words, but he could feel them. The twinkle of your laughter was like a soft whistle in his ears. When you were pleased, the air would lightly ruffle his hair. Despite how agonizing his loneliness was, at least he had you by his side.

Childe's innocence, as all things do, eventually withered away in that malevolent black.

He thought of you as his teacher; a guiding hand that trained him, molded him to fit against your palm. When he struggled against the abyssal beasts, he could feel you— a soft brush against his hand, a firm hold on his back, keeping him focused. You taught him when to still his blade and when to strike.

In the arches of his sword and polearm, in the taut and tense pull of his bow, in the whirlwind of his catalyst— you were there, shining from beyond the thin veil separating you.

When Childe was ripped out of the abyss, so was his connection to you. Like a thread snapping, he could no longer feel you; not in the darkness overhead, not in the grip of his blade, of the depths of his soul. You were gone, and he was once again nothing but a boy, lost and alone. Friends and family surround him, thankful for his return, but his mind is still reeling, still stuck in the abyss and the sudden emptiness left in your wake.

Despite himself, Childe had hoped you would have stayed, even once he was out. He thought he was done with being naïve, but that clearly wasn't the case.

He can’t feel you anymore. Where did you go? Why did you leave? What did he do wrong? Questions swirl in his head like whirlpools of thought. Childe feels like he's drowning, suffocating in the mess of his mind. His breaths come out short, quick and sharp. His throat squeezes, constricting his airways, as he realizes what's unfolded.

You left him.

He should've known better. On that first day, all you had done was take pity on him by letting him linger in your light. It was his fault for ever believing that he would never have to be alone again. That even if he had no one else, at least he had you.

This was the result of his own failure. If only he had proven himself worthy.

When his family found him, they found him gripping a small, rudimentary doll. Even when they reached their home, Childe was still clutching the thing as if possessed. When they tried tugging it out of his hands, saying it would help him eat better, he ripped it from their grasp, holding it to his chest.

Childe couldn't accept that you had left him so easily. At night, back in his warm bed, Childe tries to whisper to you again. The familiar warmth sinks into his pores, but it's nothing like yours. He nuzzles closer to the doll, ignoring how it tears into his skin.

"I'm here," he whispers.

Maybe you got confused. He knows you're a God, but even the Seven are not omniscient. When he was torn from the abyss, it was possible you hadn't meant to so cruelly cut the connection between you. Maybe you couldn't find him, and so he just has to tell you where he is.

So he whispers to you in the dark, just as he has so many times before.

Only this time, he's met with silence.

In the years that pass, you linger at the forefront of his mind, haunting him like a wraith. Childe can't bring himself to be rid of you, despite how it hurts every time he thinks about you for a little too long. He's still stuck, perpetually waiting for your return, despite how he knows you've long given him up.

Childe becomes Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger under the Tsaritsa. He takes a new name, a new mask— he executes her orders dutifully, and he does his role perfectly. He acts as if she's you, despite how desperately he wants to believe otherwise. If he closes his eyes for long enough, he can pretend that the cold that seeps into his bones in her presence is yours.

But no matter how many names and identities he takes, he'll always just be your Ajax; the boy who still misses you, despite how short your time together was. And that fact is what burns him the most.

Maybe he should be angry. He knows he has every right to be. Angry that you left him, that you discarded him as if he was nothing. Maybe he should hate you— hate you for leaving him alone, as if you weren't the only thing keeping him sane. Hate you for leaving as if his love didn't matter to you.

He comforts himself by thinking of the time dilation he experienced in the abyss. You cared for him so much that you spun three days into three months. He likes to believe he meant something to you; he must've, because why else would you lengthen your time spent together?

Childe knows it isn't true. He didn't matter enough for you to stay, after all.

At night, Childe finds himself listlessly thinking of you. It's a silent mourning. Quiet tears fall down his cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath his head. He chokes down every heaving sob that threatens to break from his throat; clenches his jaw when they claw too close to his lips. He slaps a hand over his mouth when he's too loud, biting his fingers until they're bloody and marred by his teeth. What would you think if you saw him this weak? Saw the boy you built up crumble, all because he can't feel even the softest traces of your presence anymore?

You would find him pathetic. All he's done is prove that you were right in abandoning him.

When the memory of you is too much to bear, he clutches the effigy in his arms, squeezing it against his chest until it's sharp edges dig into his skin. Even after all these years, he's still kept it close. He tries to feel the visage of you that was once attached to its bearings, whispering for you under the night sky, hoping it'll remind you of your time in the abyss— hoping that tonight he will feel you again, ruffling his hair with tendrils of wind.

He never does.

Childe barely sleeps, but when he does, he dreams of you. You have no body, no face— he can't even begin to imagine what you look like, and he doesn't dare too, even when he knows he has nothing to lose.

He's back in the dark, but you're still there with him, providing him light and comfort. If he knew that leaving would entail being without you, he never would have left at all. Better to be with you than to die without.

Sometimes, he dreams of you staying with him even after he escapes. Your warmth is ever-present. He gifts you riches, now. You have a voice in his dreams, and he can hear you speaking to him. You're kind, and gentle, and he wants for nothing. He has you, and there is nothing more to want.

He dreams he never lost you at all. It makes reality all the more painful.

In a way he knows is pathetic, Childe hopes you at least found him fun. He hopes you found him entertaining, despite how the thought twists his heart and guts into little knots, until he feels vaguely nauseous at the notion. At least then you would have reason to remember him. At least he could say he meant something to you.

In a hidden corner of his room, there sits an altar for you. His wealth as a Harbinger means he has no lack of resources, and so he bejewels the altar until it glimmers even without light. It's obnoxious and opulent to the point of vanity, but he figures that if you like it, he'll earn another whisper of warmth from you— in the vain hope that you hear him at all anymore.

With his hands, now calloused and worn, he carves sigils into whalebone. He doesn't know what they mean, but they were numerous in the abyss; and so he etches them into bone, hoping that whatever they mean, it reaches you.

Childe pushes himself more than he should. His back aches from all the weight he carries on his shoulders, but he trudges forward despite how it hurts. He is more fervent in conflicts, and spectacular scenes of blood and viscera follow him every time he walks onto a battlefield.

His tongue forms words of devotion for the Tsaritsa as he slays another enemy, blood staining his fingers, but in his heart, he only ever speaks of you.

When he fights, Childe can lose himself. He can focus entirely on the movement of his feet, the precision of his blade. He can ignore how badly he misses you, and how in the back of his mind, he desperately hopes that the more blood he sheds with your teachings, you'll find him satisfactory.

Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and once again he lets himself be drowned by the rush, letting himself forget all of his pain.

Childe is proud of the way that no one can recognize his style of fighting. It is exact and sharp— every strike hitting its target with ease, filled with vigor and intensity. He enjoys the gazes of jealousy, but remains silent when asked. My teacher taught me, he says. He sheds no further light on the matter, and any instance someone shows interest in learning from him, he instantly refuses. Childe wishes to keep you close to his chest, a guarded secret known only to him.

Childish, perhaps. He knows it is. But if he can't have you, then he will have the knowledge of you. He will keep it to himself, and there it will stay, safe in his tight grip.

It drives him insane, the way sees you in everything. When night falls, covering the sky in a blanket of stars, he wonders if you're staring at him from above. When the tides of the sea brush against the shore, he finds himself thinking of you as the moon— you are what anchors him, despite the fact that he hasn't felt you in so long. In his eyes, there is nothing you could not be, and with every breath, he only ever misses you more.

It's during his mission in Liyue that he feels you again. Childe is unable to breathe when he meets the Traveler, sensing you watching from their eyes. His heart thunders in his chest, tempestuous as a storm over the sea.

For a moment, he's happy. You're finally back. He wants nothing more than to run to you, to ask you why you left for so long, to ask how he can make you stay, but then he feels you— a familiar pressure bearing down on him, forcing him to say anything but what he wants to.

Childe watches the Traveler's back fade as it finally clicks for him.

You abandoned him for someone else. You left him... for this. The thought sends him reeling. You left him, just to go spend time with someone else— to give them the same company you gave him, to give them the same guidance you gave him— was he merely replaceable to you?

Was he just a test for you?

He should be angry. And he is, but the heartbreak overwhelms him. He's left choking, battling for air. The agony of having been tossed to the side, of having it be affirmed in front of his eyes. He wants to scream and cry, beg for you to return; but his throat squeezes every time he meets the Traveler, and the words die on his tongue.

You don't want him to speak. He's meant to play along.

Childe had waited for you for so long. Even after all this time, he couldn't get rid of the painful hope that you'd return. He had done his best to bottle his emotions, to keep them shut and locked inside, so that you wouldn't be disappointed in him upon your arrival. Proud that he never doubted you for a moment.

But he had. He had doubted you, cried at the lack of your comfort. Afraid of what it meant to be without you. Fearful of living, never getting to gleam your existence for a second time— and now you want him to pretend as if he never knew you.

As if he can't see the slight smugness in the Traveler's eyes.

His fight with the Traveler is personal. He bares his teeth, snarling like a rabid dog. His every strike is fast, precise with the intent to kill and maim. Childe hopes his emotions reach you, that you know of his bitterness and acrimony. That you know of how long he wished for you, how long he yearned for you to come back— how his frustration has twisted into pure rage, turned into a fine point.

He just has to simply show you how he's better. He has to show you that he's superior in every way to your choice. That you should've chosen him over them.

They are undeserving; watch how he rips through them like they are nothing, slicing through them like they are mist over sea. They are unworthy; see how easily he beats them into submission, how easily they crumble at his feet. The matter of the Gnosis is nothing to him, now— only whether you see how he should be the one you prefer.

It's then that he feels it. Your rage. Your anger at having been battered and bruised. The Traveler stands back up, but something is different now. Their strikes are fluid, prowess and skill increased by an outside force.

You.

Do you hate him that badly? Detest him so much, to go so far as to bless another with your strength so they can prove themselves to be his better? Even in his Foul Legacy form, Childe is forced to retreat; forced to bow his head in defeat, weakened by the burden of his transformation.

The realization leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He's done the exact opposite of what he set out to do. All he's proven is that your right.

Childe feels your crushing weight bearing down on him. He spits the words out, calls them 'friend' through clenched teeth. He dances to your whims, just as he had previously. Unnatural, stiff movements and words that speak the opposite of what he means.

And then you're gone, left along with them. He stares at their fading back. He can almost imagine you beside them, walking by their side just as you once did his.

It hurts.

The next time he feels you, there is no sign of the Traveler. Only a tight pulling in his chest.

He doesn't know what it means, or what it entails. But he follows, sensing you at the end, waiting for him. Childe doesn't allow himself to hope; that maybe, you have come around. That maybe you do care. That maybe, you never hated him— not truly. That you missed him just as he missed you.

Maybe he meant something, after all.

When he reaches you, he feels it. You're happy. You're happy with him. He feels you reaching out, tickling him with strands of your will. You brush against his skin, burrow deep inside. Childe lets you, still unable to breathe.

He wonders if this is really happening. Have you come back to him, truly? Have you finally realized how much better he is? He feels you graze his soul, reaching deep within. Childe feels you envelop him, swathing him in warmth and comfort.

You're home, you whisper.

He only hears the ghost of your voice, a chime in the wind; but he hears the intent, the meaning behind your unintelligible words, even though he can't understand them.

Childe breaks.

SANGUINE NATUS ; first meeting/as a worshiper

If even just your breath could leave him weak, then seeing you for the first time makes his knees give out underneath him.

It's a foolishly embarrassing display, but Childe can't find it in himself to care. He falls to his knees quicker than his mind can catch up, unconsciously posturing himself to make himself seem as small and harmless as possible— anything to make you stay, even if it means sabotaging his image.

He tucks his shoulders inward, struggling between looking at you until his eyes burn and your image is seared into the back of his eyelids, or averting his gaze because just touching you with them feels like he's sullying you somehow.

His breath comes out short and sharp, his entire chest heaving with each shuddering, raspy exhale. Before he can even manage a sound, he's sobbing, crumpling to the floor— there's no care taken to your perception of him now, only the wailful cries of one lost in the weight of your eyes. Childe knows he's being pathetic, a mess of airy desperation and red eyes; everything he was when he felt the ghost of you leave him, and everything he wished you'd never see. But it's you, and for the first time, he can truly feel your eyes on him.

It's all too much to bear.

"I-It's you, it's you—!" Childe manages to choke, wet tears caking the apples of his face. His eyes strain, burning to see the visage of you through the blur of his vision. Nausea bites at him, his abdomen a sudden storm from the tears that lick at his cheeks.

Childe has always been austere in his worship; strict, solemn in how he acts out every religious rite. There is an icy silence unlike him as he moves, particularly whenever your sanctity is involved. His fingers still tremble despite his stiffness, the desperation loud in every twitch of his limbs. The desire to see you, after all is said and done.

Seeing you for the first time feels as though a wave has overtaken him, drowning him in brine and the cerulean of muddy waters. There is no hiding what he could barely contain before— jerky movements filled with need and the dolor of one disappointed before.

Childe no longer finds himself able to veil it by lies and rushing fights of adrenaline; now, it lies bare, and there's no burning ache to keep it hidden.

His fervor is relentless; a feverish desire to please you coalescing until it's unbearable for his skin. Your reaction to his cries could have been cruel or kind, and it wouldn't have bothered him; all that matters is whether he has finally proven himself worthy of standing by your side.

His worship is eager words spilling from his lips at night, the echo of your name a murmur from his mouth like the sigh of the ocean's waves-- his blades stained red, limp at his sides-- the burning in the back of his throat that comes from years of pleading.

You're here now, even if he can't be with you at all times; and that knowledge leaves him whispering to you, uttering every thought without a moment of reconsideration. It is a ceaseless endeavor, as every word is listless praise and endless adoration. There isn't a moment where he isn't thinking of you in some way, and the mere thought of the opposite leaves him feeling vaguely sick.

He wants to think of you all the time. Though it's such a small thing, in his mind, he has you all to himself— in the sense that there is no one else to take your eyes off of him— there, he can make you happy; there, he can make you proud of him. In that world, you have no reason to be rid of him.

Childe's always kept his habit of crafting you makeshift gifts. They're rugged, imperfect things, but laden with his fingerprints and the palms of his hands. Before, he could only set them still on his altar for you, and hope that it pleased you somehow. He was only ever met with silence, but he could pretend you were happy with him, and the idea alone was enough.

When he catches sight of a sea conch, its pale marks swirled across its smooth surface, he can only think of handing it to you. It's a beautiful thing, and so simple and crude a gift; but maybe you will find worth in such a thing, the simplicity of its nature, and praise him for it.

He gives them to you physically now, unable to shake the urge to do so. His hands always tremble when he hands them over, his knees threatening to buckle underneath him whenever your fingers brush against his. He will never fail to drown in the sensation, allowing everything that he is to become thoughts of you.

Childe has always worshiped you in bloodshed. In the past, he hoped it would leave you satisfied enough to come back; now, it's to prove how much better he is than everyone else. His fear runs deep, like cracks in the earth far below the water's surface, and the sickening feeling of dread whenever you praise someone else suffocates him.

It's unreasonable, he knows, and he has no reason to fear, not anymore— but his heart still quickens at the thought, and his stomach still twists.

It's an all too familiar feeling. When he was first torn from you, he felt as though his heart had been ripped right out of him; and the panic he feels only reminds him of it.

When he's inevitably forced away from you on another mission, he deals with it as quickly as possible, no matter how bloodied or bruised he leaves it. He is brutally unkind in his workings, his words always terse and clipped; a slight edge that never really seems to go away until he knows you're somewhere nearby.

It's when he's forced to stay away from you for a longer period of time that he breaks completely. Upon his return, he is instantly back at your side, heaving sobs and ugly tears running down his face. He can barely think, and a flurry of slurred words leaves his lips— begging to never leave your side again.

Childe knows better than to think he is deserving of your kindness, but he’s desperate to at least stay in your shadow. There, he could stay near you, even if he was swathed in black— even if his only glimpse of you was your back, he would be in bliss. To be near you in some form is all he could ever ask of you.

For all of the power you have granted him, it's only right that he use it for you. A mere word from anyone that isn't pure praise has his grip on his weapon tightening, the tendons on his hand taut and his knuckles pale. He remains entirely oblivious to any moral ambiguity in your actions— whatever you do is right and just; as you are the only one worthy of judging yourself, he does not dare too.

Instead, Childe draws his blade in judgement of others— he will act as your hand and executioner, the arbiter of your faith; it's with only vigor that he hands out punishment, a ferocity bold and true.

AMANS IN SPINIS IACET ; as your lover

Childe's dreams have begun to take a sudden turn.

It's not anything he can control, despite how hard he tries too. They pleased him at first, even though he still couldn't help the way his heart tightened at the idea of you somehow knowing. At that time, they weren't occurring enough for him to be worried, and the content themselves were innocent enough for him to think nothing of it.

You held him close to you, pressing benign kisses across his freckled cheeks, playing with his hair with soft fingers; little things that he could believe meant nothing at all, just a desire to feel your affection in the only way his mortal heart knew how.

The dreams turn nightly, and Childe finally realizes it's much more than that.

It begins at signs of your favoritism. Glances that last more than they should, summoning him to your chambers more frequently; Childe does not deny you, and he can't help the faint giddiness that clouds his mind every time he feels your gaze linger on him. It's a euphoric sensation to know that he is the one you are looking at; no one else. Only barely does he manage to rein in his emotions every time.

You speak much softer to him, and your touch is more affectionate. He turns drunk on your approval, willingly dancing to your whims if it meant having your fingers coiled in his hair for another moment. Before he can stop himself for even daring to think it, Childe lets himself believe he's special to you— and that is where the problem arises.

The thoughts don't stop. Even if he screams to drown out the noise, they still manage to be so loud. The dreams are relentless, more loving, more vivid. He can feel the warmth of your palms as you caress his cheeks, the weight of your breath when you draw your head near; they feel so real, that for a moment, he thinks you're the one sending them to him.

He feels as though he's dirtying you in some form, as if he is the one committing an unforgivable sin against you; somehow managing to desecrate you with just his thoughts alone. The idea sends him into a panic-induced frenzy, kneeling before his altar with rushed, unintelligible apologies on his lips.

Despite his self-hatred, whenever he wakes from one, Childe is left blissfully dazed, nuzzling into his pillow with hazy clarity— pretending that it's you, instead. He wonders what it would be like if his dreams were real, if he could really be so special to you in such a way; entirely irreplaceable, entirely yours.

It doesn't take long for his will to be eroded by his desperation. His desire to resist was already hanging by a thread, and as the dreams persist, any resistance on his end is lost. He falls ever deeper into an abyss of his own making, allowing himself to be undone by his own creation.

Childe has always been needy, but as his feelings rear their ugly head, it only grows worse. He has always loved you— and he had been struggling to choke his own feelings down for as long as he could, fooling himself into believing that they didn't exist in the first place. In his eyes, it's only right that you be the one to shake the foundation he lay; making him crumble until every dark part of himself is laid bare in front of you, only for your eyes.

There's a drastic increase in his desperation to be near you, and any lack of refusal on your part only exacerbates it. He neglects his duties entirely in favor of staying by you in some way or another, be it either by your side, or following you from a distance like a lost puppy.

Your admittance of feelings only makes Childe more fervent. He can barely hear himself speak, his heart fluttering against his ribcage like a caged canary. He can barely believe anything you're saying, and for a moment, he wonders if he's lost in another dream of his.

At your assurance, Childe doesn't dare to doubt you any longer. He falls entirely into you, allowing you to consume his every thought. He doesn't think to fight back, letting you envelop him until his every breath is coated in your name. He is yours, and he has no desire for anything more.

His desire for your approval now emboldens him. Childe's always acted out of an interest in garnering your attention, and though he now knows of your feelings, it does nothing to satiate him; instead, it leaves him hungrier, greedy with an eagerness to please.

He doesn't take from you without asking, but he asks enough for it to be a nuisance. Your affection is everything to him, and he can't bear to go a moment without it. He asks to lay his head in your lap, for you to play with his hair— the loss of your touch is the loss of himself, and sends him reeling back to memories of when he was without you.

The first time you kiss him, his legs instantly give out underneath him, a small groan leaving his lips. Childe doesn't bother to dull his reactions; you deserve to know how easily weakened he is by your touch, with even a brush of your fingers enough to leave him breathless and wanting.

As your favorite, Childe is quick to be rid of any competition. Whether or not you see them as possible suitors doesn't even cross his mind— the fear that snakes around his heart is ever-present, and if they're better than him in some form, it only grows in persistence. He doesn't hurt them, because surely that would upset you, and any devotee of you is worthy of respect— but he is quick to showcase his superiority, and to do so broadly without shame.

Childe grows used to his new status, and uses it to stay by your side constantly. Any attention you give to others is met with instant jealousy, seething glares sent to whoever stole your gaze, even if they only preoccupied a second of your mind.

He could never be mad at you, as clearly the fault lies within himself.

Any signs of your likes and dislikes are instantly noted. If you compliment someone for their behavior, he begins to emulate it, or at least he tries too. If you like Zhongli for how well he executes your orders, then Childe will be the same; only he will do it better, quicker, and prove himself still deserving of your love.

If he were perfect, then you would have no need for anyone else. If he were perfect, he would never have to worry about whether you'll grow bored of him the moment he stops being entertaining enough.

The thought of you with another leaves Childe sick without fail. He knows he has no control over you, and that if you wished to be rid of him, he would willingly walk into whatever punishment awaited him— but now that he has tasted what it feels like to be so utterly yours, he can't bear to imagine another sharing the same treatment.

You kissing another, holding another, letting someone else lay against you; all of it only serves to further blur his vision. Even if it is sinful of him to feel, he can't stop the emotions from swirling in his chest.

You are everything; the earth laid beneath his feet, the foundation of which he relies on. To be without you is to fall, to be without you means death; and if he must carve his skin and bone to fit the picture you want him to be, then he shall.

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #yandere genshin #sagau #yandere male #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #self aware genshin #yandere childe #sagau childe #self aware childe #genshin cult au #cult au childe

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callmearcturus · 2 months

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The Video Gaming Major Arcana

The latest patron episode of Into The Aether/@intothecast asked the boys to decide a video game for every Major Arcana card. They ran out of time on it and only got 2/3s thru

my ass was like "Challenge Accepted"

0 - The Fool - Dragon Quest (The Fool is infinite potential and is at the start of a long journey. DQ as a series is a long-running, is a bedrock of the medium, and has done its own takes on everything from pokemon to minecraft, and it either did it first or did it better.)

1 - The Magician - Metroid and Zelda (The Magician is the first person the Fool meets and is a guide for the journey. The Magician is associated strongly with teaching and with tools. Metroid and Zelda both are foundational works and they revolve around gating player process through tools.)

2 - The High Priestess - FEZ (The High Priestess is another guide, but sits before the veil, keeping guard over arcane, hidden knowledge and deciding when to share the secrets of the universe. FEZ is one of the Big Games that hide under layers and layers of mystery.)

3 - The Empress - Stardew Valley (The Empress presides over growth and cultivation of her kingdom, sitting in a field with wheat in hand. SDV is chiefly about taking care of your own domain, the farm and the wider village.)

4 - The Emperor - Civilization (The Emperor is the firm hand of government and can be an important navigator in chaos but also is angered by lack of obedience and losing control. Civ is all about steering every aspect of a nation and protecting it viciously.)

5 - The Hierophant - Pokemon (The Hierophant is a cultural, societal leader that gains power from people who believe similarly but subsequently is very set in their ways. Pokemon is a huge phenomenon that unites people of all ages, but also struggles heavily with innovation and progress.)

6 - The Lovers - Journey (The Lovers aren't necessarily smoochy-smoochy, but represent a Decision, joining hands with another person and striding into the future together. It's Journey. If you know, you know.)

7 - The Chariot - Bethesda's Catalog (The Chariot is a tumultuous, potent card. They hold onto the reins of powerful beasts and drive forward, blazing a new path. But if they lose grip, everything goes to hell. Bethesda's works tend to have this incredible ambition to them, and when they hit, they HIT, but when they miss, it's dramatic.)

8 - Justice - Dark Souls (Justice is the system and its enforcement of its rules, whether they feel fair or arbitrary. I feel DS fits it well-- it relentlessly follows its own rules and is firm in them, which can either draw players in or seem cruel and unwelcoming.)

9 - The Hermit - Immortality (The Hermit is a wise person who gained specialized knowledge but through great personal sacrifice. They find it difficult to share their knowledge because they essentially traded that ability to communicate easily for the wisdom. Immortality has some deeply complicated concepts to communicate, but its methods and the basic mechanics it uses are to some people impossible to understand.)

10 - (Wheel of) Fortune - Spelunky (Fortune is the card of pure luck and the whims of fate and how you survive being caught in its spokes. Spelunky is a pure Rogue-like as opposed to a Rogue-lite and there is no knowing what the procgen will give you.)

11 - Strength - Undertale (Strength is specifically about emotional control and fortitude. It's not about slaying the lion, but holding it, keeping it from lashing out. Undertale is a game that asks the player to endure emotional struggles both against the mechanics and against their own inclinations.)

12 - The Hanged Man - Signalis (OH BOY ITS MY FAVE CARD. The thing about the Hanged Man is that it's a test, a gamble, a deal. The Hanged Man is not hung from the neck, this is not an execution, they are inverted. They choose to be inverted in the hopes of gaining some Insight into the universe, but in doing so risk madness or obsession or doom. Signalis is both a game about a protagonist going through this and also a game that will put the player through this if they aren't careful.)

13 - The Nameless Arcana - Braid (I'm not even personally a fan of Braid, but I believe it is one of the handful of Original Indie Games. The very existence and popularity of Braid and its contemporaries showed that games outside the big studios could hit big. Braid (or Cave Story for the PC crowd) altered the landscape.

14 - Temperance - Yakuza (Temperance is the melding of disparate elements that should not go together into something grand and new, and maintaining that balance. Yakuza manages to be genuine and profound not in spite of its strange mixture of tones and mechanics but because of them.)

15 - The Devil - Genshin Impact (I don't feel the need to elaborate on this one.)

16 - The Tower - Shenmue (The Tower is total upheaval and where it all comes crashing down, where ambition crumbles and brings an institution down with it. Shenmue is not solely to blame for the failure of the Dreamcast and Sega's exit from the console arena, but it contributed to it and is emblematic of that seachange.)

17 - The Star - Mass Effect (The Star is a beacon in the darkness, a distant light that indicates not so much a goal, but that the journey will continue. Mass Effect is a landmark title that maybe didn't execute on half the things it tried, strangled by its own scope, but it still showed what games could do, broadening the possibility space. It is hope for greater experiences and art.)

18 - The Moon - Metal Gear (The Moon illuminates the path through the darkness, but creates illusions in the reflections, demanding the querent move forward with care or they will go astray, go mad. Is Metal Gear really deep? Is it the closest triple-A games get to arthouse? Does it have meaning? Or is it a mess? Is it too Problematique to justify it's big ideas? Is it all just really, really stupid? Or is it genius?)

19 - The Sun - Tetris Effect (The Sun comes at the end of a long, arduous journey. It is the sigh of relief, the tears of release, the light to finally see how far you've come. Tetris Effect is the latest iteration of one of the oldest formulas ever, and it's brilliant and celebratory and invites everyone to take part in its joy.)

20 - Judgement - Pathologic (Judgement is all-seeing and all-knowing, the final tally and the reckoning. So is Pathologic. Few experiences demand so much from the player, and few games are so brutally honest in answering the player's decisions. In Pathologic, you will get what you deserve.)

21 - The World - The Outer Wilds (The beginning is the end is the beginning. Completion and totality and holistic understanding of Everything. It's gotta be Outer Wilds.)

#arc plays games

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

500 Year Long Identity Crisis (Yandere!SAGAU Various/Reader)

A/n: Advanced happy birthday Ayaka/2nd anniversary everyone!!! I put quite the effort into this fic to celebrate lol.

Characters present in this chapter: (Main Focus) Traveler!Aether, Baizhu, Dainsleif. (Briefly Mentioned) Yelan, Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli, Venti, Abyss!Lumine, Enjou

Cw: yandere self-aware genshin au, "impostor" reader, gn!reader

Unreliable synopsis: The traveler received a strange commission indirectly from a government official. Although, it seems their azure-glasses-wearing guide is far more interesting than the quest itself.

Hysteric Humanoid (Yandere!SAGAU):

Side Story I - The Longest Devout Believers (this short story will be uploaded in a few days.)

Chapter 1 (You're here)

—---

"He who leaves a good name does not die poor. Remember that well, Your Grace!"

------

Everyone you encountered in your travels wondered what you would look like without your azure-tinted sunglasses at some point in their lives. Whether it be random passersby or your "closest" confidants, not a single soul knew what you looked like underneath the accessories you wore. This eccentric trait of yours made plenty uneased, for each time someone tried to pry into your privacy, you were quick to quip more riddles for them to lose sleep over.

As expected, today's appointment with the traveler was no different.

Aether couldn't tell what to make of you when you entered the restaurant. You covet too many cultural accessories, more so than Tighnari's infamous mess of a getup. Yet the only somewhat recognizable article of clothing was the fur scarf around your neck. However, this is only because a certain Mondstadt cavalry captain wore something similar. Only this time, this scarf had more love put into its handiwork than Kaeya's.

At least you balanced his abysmal first impression by offering to pay the bill.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. They call me "Jianfeng". I'm a temporary tax accountant here in Liyue. It's a pleasure to be working with you."

The traveler noticed your gloved hands extended. Almost every part of your body was covered, indicating that you made a concerted effort in covering everything up. He couldn't tell what color your eyes were underneath those glasses. You don't fit in in the bustling main metropolis of Liyue Harbor, let alone Wanmin Restaurant, and Aether doubted that you'd be able to blend in anywhere else.

You looked like an eccentric Fatui Agent. Almost. But even bad guys in uniform had better fashion sense. Are you trying to look worse than criminals?

The traveler didn't like you right off the bat.

If he were to guess, people “call you Jianfeng” because they don’t know your real name.

"It's... Nice to meet you too." Aether hesitantly shook your hand. His eyebrows furrowed.

Your hands were as cold as Albedo's.

That fact alarmed him.

Not long ago, he discovered Albedo's true nature as a homunculus and met his clones. In that handshake, he felt your flesh holding his, and he might dare say that you have unique human characteristics, yet your rigidness makes you appear more like an entity. Aether eyed you quietly.

What if you were one of them? What if behind your blue-tinted glasses, your eyes are composed of chalk?

Aether doesn't believe you are human. He had already concluded who you were after this little discussion. You're either a doll, a clone, or an exuvia. However, he couldn't explain why he thought it was the third guess.

"They call you Jianfeng? So, is that not your real name or...?"

Paimon asked what he was afraid of saying.

He didn't even notice that you already pulled your hand away. Aether's hand was trembling.

You used up all the self-restraint you had left so you won't narrow your eyes at her. He's already suspicious enough. You know that look well. His sister had that expression, too. Their faces bespoke knowledge and experience that free-spirits have. This is no time to let your guard down.

The traveler is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You felt a tiny hand grabbing your hood.

"Do you need to wear all these clothes? You're not weak to the cold, are you?"

You flinched as you came face to face with a starry-eyed "pixie" tugging your earrings like a newborn baby. You gently smacked her away with one hand. Have you been slacking on training so much that Paimon, of all people, nearly yanked your hood off? You must have given her a menacing look since the cowardly critter scurried behind the traveler right after.

She's a lot nosier than you guessed.

"P-Paimon!!!"

Aether's eyes went wide as he slammed his hand to cover his traveling companion's mouth, not even bothering to look behind him. If he wasn't already a famous figure, you would've noted that the two traveled adequately enough for him to hit her lips intuitively.

He may appear shocked, but he is nothing but calm in assessing your character.

So, you don't like it when people grab your clothes. You're hiding something.

"I'm SO sorry about Paimon!" The blonde man squeaked. "She can be a bit tactless."

"No, no. It's fine. I enjoy talking to blunt people." You chuckled. "Makes my job run a lot smoother, especially during busy seasons. Though, I would greatly appreciate it if neither of you would strip away my clothes. We don't have an intimate... friendship."

You shook your head, realizing that your reply sounded like something Kaeya would say.

"I hope you're not assuming that I'm here to talk about tax return preparations. I won't press you about anything related to taxes. Besides, I'm a bit off schedule and I don't have time snooping into your business."

Paimon audibly sighed, Aether not so much.

"So you're not going to ask about tax evasion...?" He muttered.

You didn't quite catch that. "What?"

"N-Nevermind that!" Paimon giggled suspiciously. You've heard the traveler had done around Inazuma and for the sake of keeping his heroic ventures alive, you turned a blind eye in this case.

It's not like you can jail a video game protagonist for tax fraud anyways.

"I asked for your audience because I would like to hire you for a special commission."

You cringed for a brief moment before clearing your throat.

"Actually, no, that doesn't seem right. SOMEONE from The Civil of Ministry Affairs wants to hire you for a special commission, and I happen to be nearby for SOMEONE to dump this workload without consent. I have a life of my own, so expect me to make this quick."

"Civil of Ministry Affairs..." The traveler glanced at Paimon.

"Ooh! Ooh! Is it Yelan?!"

The small creature loved to hog the conversation, but her slip-of-a-tongue proved to be quite helpful in this instance.

"Yes, precisely. Huh, I thought I'd have to make a roundabout excuse as to why I can't disclose who your client is."

You slid the files onto the table's surface. Aether didn't seem phased by the enormous red CONFIDENTIAL text stamped on the folders and quickly took a look without your authorization.

"You have three days to decide. Look for me at Bubu Pharmacy at around six to ten pm. See you then."

Yelan often visits the pharmacy in disguise, so if she ever doubts you, you might as well prove her wrong. You stood up. You can't be bothered to stay longer, lest you want Mingbo's ire.

"H-Hey, hold on, Paimon can't understand this!"

"Then hire someone that can. Yelan insists that it's an important mission. It's imperative that you must perfect this task."

Your departure was as quick as your arrival, and you spared not a single second more to entertaining the traveler's questions.

Was it out of false confidence that he could decipher scholarly pages or pure indifference? Neither Paimon nor Aether knew. What bugged them more was not the fact they couldn't understand the files without Paimon reading through a dictionary for the foreigner, but the proverb you whispered right before you disappeared.

"Remember to paint the dragon, then dot the eye."

-----------

Cursed hands roamed the severed threads of your hood... until they slowly traveled down your neck, squeezing lightly.

"Your hair, your face, your body, your eyes..."

You shivered.

As you've heard, eyes are a telltale marker of neoteny. It speaks for how you've aged without saying a word and expresses everything humanity desired. Nonetheless, you did not pay attention to these sermons. What you heard is nothing more than a dirty craving for eternal youth, similar to a corrupt man's desire to deflower what is absolutely still and Celestia's desire to demolish a prosperous nation.

Man or Heaven– it did not matter which, they all wished you gone.

All you have left is him. For he remains as your soft glow at dawn and the sword at your side.

He spoke into your ear. Strands of his light hair stroked the nape of your neck, enticing you with his closeness. He shades your view of the burning nation in front of you with one gloved hand. Someone as frail as you, in his opinion, should not squander their eyes viewing a despicable final act.

His somber voice was an epilogue– a closing narration to humanity's greatest achievement.

And Khaenri'ah's end starts with you.

"Every inch of you is under my protection."

His breath was uneven, much like his tearful visage. You did not permit him, but his head rested on your shoulder, soundly defeated. From that moment forward, you were the only person he could touch without feeling guilty about his curse, for better or for worse.

"But we must continue this path. It's far too late to stop…

"I beg you, My Lord. Don't go anywhere without me."

-----------

"Are you sure the traveler will say no? I must say though, you're very bold for tampering with Yelan's files, (Player Name)."

"Stop calling me that," you gritted your teeth. "You know damn well I despise that name, doc."

The person who asked you was a slim doctor who ground some medicinal herbs on the countertop. Considering how he says the name (Player Name) without any thought of divine retribution, he's a bit of a heretic, like you.

The doctor's name is Baizhu, renowned for his work in the Bubu Pharmacy.

He appears fragile but make no mistake: disagreeing with his methodologies is futile. Baizhu is by no means a friend but you wouldn't want him as your enemy. He's the only one who knows of your "unique" constitution, and therefore the only one who can tinker with your body. At least, the contract says so.

Baizhu met your eyes with a small, scheming smile.

"In all honesty, Jianfeng, your hatred for The Creator will bite you one day. You can't hate them forever."

You grunted.

Yes, yes you can.

The crest of Khaenri'ah rests in your pupils, daunting and pure. Looking at the mirror feels awfully naked without your glasses since your reflection haunts you. The symbol weaved in your eyes echoed the voices of those who were there long ago.

You were naught but a primordial being shaped like the one that played behind the "screen". You were a Khaenri'ahn offering, an homage to this "player" figure you'll never understand. This flawed birth process is your bane. You were molded into their ideal human Lord, one who wielded power beyond the Archons and Celestia itself...

The Creator.

(Player Name).

Your homeland revered this one entity. In fact, your master made you in their image, not as a person but as a walking sculpture. Nonetheless, you aspired to be The Creator whom anyone would be glad to share a room with. You worked hard to be considerate and kind... But playing the role of a saint is pointless in the nation of agnostic men.

Khaenri'ahns do not rely on Archons or their doctrines, but they recognize that your very existence was blasphemous.

It would've hurt less if you hadn't deluded yourself that you had a chance. It didn't matter how much love you offered when those sentiments did not reach the masses' hearts.

Because you'll never be their image of (Player Name). Even if you inherited their intellect and insights of the future.

You would've loved your countrymen as they grew wrinkly and unrecognizably older. You would've given them the kindness they deserved. You would've forgiven them for all their flaws. Because you know you see them as who they were.

But why couldn't they have thought the same for you?

Oftentimes you wondered if it was their eyes that stalked you when you first left your cage. More often than not, you lie awake at night wondering what made (Player Name) so valuable and what made this human, an imperfect and mortal thing, more adored than you will ever be. Try as you might in racking your head for an answer, dead men tell no tales.

And where did all the love that you gave got you now? Scared of your own faux body. Paranoid and pitiful.

You just want to be loved.

By anyone.

"... Jianfeng? Are you crying?" Baizhu said in disbelief rather than concern.

You sniffed and hastily smudged the tears behind your glasses. Baizhu made his way towards you with a hand that eagerly patted your head. Changsheng, who's normally abrasive, slithered on top of your shoulders and gave you a cold hug. They didn't ask why you were crying. You spilled your heart out to him long ago, and he's not a forgetful person, unlike his little helper.

You snickered weakly.

By the looks on both their faces, you could tell that they know your true identity.

But you don't care.

After all, it was Baizhu who gave you your new name. And "Jianfeng" suits you just fine.

"Me? Crying? You need new glasses." You sniffed.

"Hmm? Oh but darling I think my diagnosis is spot on."

"If I was crying, shouldn't you realize that you're the problem?" You half-heartedly quipped.

His smile faded. Before Baizhu could say anything witty in response, Qiqi, with her stubby legs, opened the door in her tippy-toes.

"Jian… the traveler is here…"

You gently patted Changsheng's head, silently motioning her to go back to her master.

"Will be there in a sec."

---------------

Aether was curious as to why you chose this to be your meeting place, but after seeing Baizhu trail behind you, he formed a concrete assumption as to why.

The doctor had a hand draped around your shoulder. You two must have an "intimate friendship."

"Before we give you an answer, Paimon has a few things Paimon wants to ask!"

You expected as much. "Sure, go on then."

The traveler sat in one of the free chairs and you did the same.

Baizhu took a seat behind the counter. Given his frail constitution, he isn't the most imposing man in the room, but his look was something else entirely. The doctor observed the traveler and his companion stealing your attention.

Paimon may be dense, but Aether isn't.

Aether couldn't speak when Baizhu's snake-like eyes tilted like a blade under his chin.

"Are you from Mondstadt?"

"Huh? Er... No. Why did you think so?"

"You have the same scarf-thing like Kaeya– he's The Knights of Favonius’s Cavalry Captain."

You've met him. The Creator knows him as well. They frequently controlled his body before swapping to someone else after "wishing." Aside from that, you two correspond letters frequently. Kaeya sends notices whenever a certain fellow countryman concocts drinks at his brother’s tavern. Hence, you consider him a close confidant.

But you'd rather not share that information.

Kaeya likes to keep his friendship with you as one of his dirty little secrets.

Last time someone found out about you, the cavalry captain knocked him out. You never saw Connor again after that.

"Maybe we have similar tastes. I did visit old Mond before, but that was because I wanted to see the Great Wolf, Andrius..." You sighed.

Paimon quickly moved on. "Are you sure you're a tax accountant? The traveler hasn't seen you on Liyue's list of graduates."

They must have obtained the information through Keqing. That lady has reservations about everything, from your golden shrimp balls to Rex Lapis and The Creator. You were skeptical of her at first, but she welcomes any criticism that borders on blasphemy. It made you wonder why she only revealed that information now and never interrogated you before.

"This carp had jumped the dragon's gate before you arrived in Mondstadt, pal. I studied in Fontaine and got my license a few years ago." You sipped your chamomile tea, lazily pointing at the papers on the table. "See? I'm rather upfront about what I do."

Except for the fact you graduated nearly fifty years ago, under the name "Faust."

"Paimon thinks it's because you don't exactly look like a government worker, Jianfeng..."

"What do I look like then?"

"Well, uhh... Paimon can't say..."

"Exactly," you sat up straight. "A man cannot be judged by looks, much like seas cannot be measured by a cup."

"Another Liyue proverb..." Aether muttered.

Jokes on you, they DID hire someone to simplify the documents. In addition, he asked Zhongli what your departing words meant moments prior... Admittedly, Aether's not ready to sit through another thirty minutes of him discussing what you meant this time. One literacy lesson is enough for one week.

You wouldn't know about all that. You avoid Morax– he calls himself Zhongli nowadays– like Hilichurl camps. His new appearance does little to fool you. Based on The Creator's insight, he had faked his death. The last time you had talked to him, he tried to kidnap you, so the only Archon you have the slightest semblance of trust for is Lord Barbatos.

Speaking of Lord Barbatos, you're sure he'd love what you'll say next…

"Do you want a Fontaine proverb? Sure, here's one."

The travelers muffled their groans. Baizhu laughed heartily while Paimon pressed her head on her palm.

You chuckled.

"The robes don’t make the monk. If you can't label me from my looks then I shall do it for you. You're travelers, yet you've not seen all of what Liyue has to offer. This is what Jianfeng, a humble tax accountant, looks like, and other people in my profession can appear similarly if they chose to. What matters more is how we perform. The end."

The two travelers looked dumbfounded.

Good. What you said was total horseshit.

"Paimon doubts it's as complic– umm, easy as that..." She droned on.

The Creator's insights were right. Paimon is the noisest character in this "game." By then, you couldn't care much about what more she had to say. Instead, you handed the traveler a pouch.

There's no other choice than to send them on a wild goose chase.

"Yelan told me that you have no deadline in tracking The Creator down," you squinted. "But I'm no kind person. As the Liyue saying goes: return a loan on time and borrowing again will be easier. I'll only give you a daily allowance for two months. That's the only favor I will grant you."

Paimon floated near you, a lot cheekier this time. "But won't that be a pain for you?"

"How come?" You tilted your head.

"You're... Joining us, right?"

You went silent.

"Huh?"

Baizhu chuckled. He and Aether sidelined the entire conversation, yet they caught on rather quickly.

The traveler spoke, his voice was subtly smug.

"Mx. Accountant, Yelan put your name in the contract as our travel guide. And you already signed it."

------

Great, now you’re part of the wild goose chase too. Damn you, Yelan. Damn you, Wupei, for dressing up as a Good Hunter delivery boy. You can't believe she outsmarted you. Why did you even sign it– food deliveries don't ask for signatures and Mondstadt is miles away. Just because you've seen most of Teyvat for the past 500 years does not mean you have the qualifications as a travel guide– much less for a place that's a giant underground cave full of unanswered questions. Or a cave where the souls of your countrymen loitered, more specifically.

Baizhu was concerned about this and, uncharacteristically, offered to accompany you. You explained that he would be a liability if he joined, and he reluctantly agreed. But not before doling out an inordinate amount of medical herbs to make you smell ancient (and you are.)

Nevertheless, the three of you squandered the hours skulking around the cramped confines of the Chasm. So far, you've provided minor historical context and directed them to a few shortcuts as the traveler brandished his weapon.

It's also worth mentioning that, when compared to his sister, Aether's swordplay falls short. As Lumine would say, "Aim for the neck." He swings more defensively than she does, and his range is shorter. You're no expert, but after more than a century of traveling with two fierce sword masters, you couldn't help but nitpick.

You grilled him about his sword abilities a few times, and he responded with sugar-coated remarks about your unusual outfit. His attempts to discredit you were poor, but hearing him speak is a rarity enough. You didn't mind his comments. In comparison to Lumine's snarkiness, he is more straightforward and pleasant.

"The coast is clear– This should be the place the Creator was last seen," you muttered. "Allegedly."

"Ooohhh!!! Paimon is so excited!"

Aether grunted, sharing her sentiment as a typical voiceless protagonist. His childlike wonder makes up for his lack of speech as he walked past you.

You watched him run without looking back for both you and Paimon.

Unsurprisingly, he was most excited– he's the twin The Creator chose. You would be ecstatic too if the person who set you out on an exhilarating journey came returned. The difference is that you would probably curse them for it.

"You don't look happy for someone who's gonna see The Creator, Jianfeng," Paimon said. She nearly tugged your hoodie before stopping herself when she noticed you glaring.

"Um. You okay?"

"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean that– I'm fine." You palmed your forehead. "Just a bit light-headed."

"Do you wanna take a rest for a while? It's not good to force yourself. We can't greet The Creator if we're exhausted! You gotta look like your best self! You don’t want Them to see you like this, do you?"

You smiled weakly.

Just shut up, Paimon.

"Right. Right."

"Hey, is this the location?"

Aether pointed to a place with a light source.

You gulped.

“That's right.”

“Oh wow! Paimon heard that They like these mysterious white-blue flowers! Paimon doesn’t know what it's called though…”

As Aether knelt to examine the odd flower meadow, you attempted to mask your uneasiness. The flooring in this spot was soft and fragile; approaching the flowerbed risked breaking it. Yelan's reports were correct, but they shouldn't have been. After all, these are--

“Inteyvats.”

Paimon and Aether looked at you.

Your eyes didn’t tear away. You were frozen from your spot.

“These are called inteyvats.” You said, lips trembling. Your forehead creased and you grabbed your arm while looking at the batch of flowers, tense. “They are Khaenri’ah’s national flower… They're a symbol for wanderers far from home–”

Your face paled and your hand began to sweat.

It seems like the Chasm-Yaksha story quest happened before "Requiem of The Echoing Depths." But why?

How come Aether knew who Yelan was, but doesn't know what inteyvats are?

You shook.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

If they’re here then... Maybe That “Creator” is actually around here too.

You've never met Them before. Strange how not once did you both cross paths when you supposedly share the same face. But just because you haven't met them yet doesn't mean you want to.

All your muscles tensed up while your eyes squinted as if searching for a dead nation from far away.

You stepped backward.

"Hey, watch out!"

You had a mini heart attack as the steps gave in. Aether reached out. You were unable to grab his arm and Paimon's futile attempt to pull you up by your hood failed.

You tripped.

Unsteadily kneeling up, you unusually saw the world had taken colors way beyond an azure hue. It took you seconds before realizing your predicament.

You went completely still.

Your azure spectacles are cracked and out of reach. Your hood was lowered. All that was covering your head was a cotton face mask. The luminous stones gave your (h/c) hair an unwanted spotlight and your imperfect (e/c) eyes displayed fear in full view.

They could see your eyes– your face. No words were further spoken.

… Oh.

Aether's eyes widened and his chest sank as it heaved at the realization of who he was blindly following into the depths. He stepped forward and his dull blade clanged, subtly reminding you of his repertoire.

"JIANFENG IS THE FAKE CREATOR?!"

It all happened way too quickly.

Paimon screeched as she lividly floated beside Aether. She had been stomping on air with her clenched fists. Neither of you truly heard her.

Because from then on, you were enemies.

…

Aether unsheathed his dull blade.

You drew what you thought and hoped was your last breath. It had been more than 500 years, and you longed for a moment of respite.

If you were just another body that got in the way between the protagonist and his goals, then so be it. You'd gladly throw yourself into his blade and die as you've been dutifully commanded by the threads of fate.

"Jianfeng…" The traveler spat your fake name with malice as he sprung toward you in a single step.

He managed to slice your thigh.

"I shouldn't have trusted you."

You winced.

You've compared how different he acts compared to his sister the entire time, but this was the first you've seen their startling resemblance.

Aether looks just as numb as Lumine when placed into the role of a villain. He didn't look like an animal that wanted to tear you to shreds– he looked disappointed.

You reluctantly walked backward, gritting your teeth as he skillfully slashed in your direction. His attack on your leg stung, and your hand flew to conceal the wound.

As expected from a silent protagonist, he seems to know that the smallest sentences bite the most. But his words are meaningless. You knew Aether only said it because of the rumors about you. He wouldn't know the wishes of those who died with lingering regrets as much as you and your previous traveling companions.

All he has is lip service and surface-level heroism. A facade that is slowly deteriorating ever since Inazuma.

You could dodge his attacks easily. In one flick of the wrist, you could bounce him off, but…

Many moons ago, you made up your mind on how you wished to go. You will not cower away and accept judgment with resolve. Retribution is coming to pass and with livid breaths, you'll let Aether draw his blade. You longed for the sweet release of death to be under this world's rightful protagonist.

…

However, in a blink of an eye, a fluttering grey cape obstructed death's view.

CLANG!!!

Blonde hair.

A dark violet mask.

Unmistakable starry eyes.

And a long, pointed cloak.

"How... How did you get here?" You whispered breathlessly.

He must've emerged from the wormhole below this platform.

The blonde gave you an all-too-familiar look that says he knows all that he needs to know.

The traveler froze in shock while the third person dashed in to capture your waist before he scooped you up in one quick motion. His body felt cold against yours, much to your dismay.

He briefly exhaled through his nose; his stamina unaffected. "I'm always watching."

"Tch."

You'd call him out for being arrogant, but you know he's telling the truth. This man gathers knowledge as if his life depended on it- and you wish you had a better comparison because there is no life within him other than an amalgamation of pure jadedness.

The blonde man keeps this world's secrets, and no amount of proverbs will make you more seasoned and knowledgeable than Dainsleif, the Bough Keeper.

And this all-knowing yet curious individual appeared both pissed and enamored.

First and foremost, he is furious at Aether for performing such an atrocious "stunt." To draw a blade against the one to whom he vowed vassalage served to make his heart race for the worst reasons. Yet, Dain still has his patience, courtesy to his immortality, and you by his side.

His eyes searched yours. Longing for some shred of blissful recognition you might've felt after meeting him again but couldn't ignore the engulfing dread that settled in your irises. You could tell he was fighting hard not to melt under your touch.

Dainsleif promised before that he would never disobey his lord’s commands. He was true to his word and never once appeared in the past few centuries

But seasons change.

He made his choice. Dainsleif pulled away.

"My memories have all but faded, but I know that underneath those clothes, you're still the same person, my Lord."

His gaze was smoldering. The Bough Keeper did not take one step closer, but the way he stared at you already felt suffocating. He didn't and he won't come close. His Khaenriah'n eyes sufficed in expressing the loneliness he dealt with when he traversed Teyvat without you. He didn't have to hold you tight. His presence is intense enough.

You thought you were the one monitoring his actions through Kaeya, but Dainsleif had always been the better stalker.

You don't know the hell you put him through by leaving him on his lonesome.

Dainsleif smiled delicately. Had you never traveled with him, it would've been an unpredictable expression. As much as you hate reminiscing about that era, you know that he reserves that look for you alone. He was elated when he saw you wear the scarf he gave you.

Skinning that cryo abyss mage was a lot of work.

You should've thrown it away, but you couldn't, not when it was one of your good memories with him and her. Not when he worked tirelessly to master sewing just for you.

Now there's no way he won't assume that there's more to it than keeping warm.

"Lord (Y/n)..."

Dainsleif's voice was still soothing.

Aether gave him a strange look. He didn't think of him as the kind to address someone by that title, but then he remembered that Dainsleif was once an honorable knight. He just didn't know that the Twilight Sword used to serve you. Nor did he know that (Y/n) was your real name.

"Stop." You commanded, but your shaky voice betrayed you.

You haven't heard that name in a long time.

"... At last. It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Dainsleif awkwardly spoke as if you both lacked time.

How dull. The three of you always had enough time.

And you have already picked a route to follow. Having the Creator's wisdom already gave you an advantage in predicting what would happen, and each day made you wonder when your paths might diverge. You didn't deny fate when it arrived. Lumine chose the Abyss Order, while Dainsleif seek to oppose it.

They were both suffocatingly possessive. If Khaenri'ah shunned you as a heretic creation, Dainsleif and Lumine prized you as their hysteric humanoid. They both desired you, but neither was willing to share. They tugged and pulled as if you were not capable of thinking for yourself.

And what did you do? You opted for a strategic retreat. You have no malice against Teyvat but no will to save it either. After knowing that your old companions represent these two sides, you wanted nothing to do with their metaphorical coin.

As a creature abandoned by its nation, can you be blamed for having no plans of carrying the burden for those who died and survived?

You shook your head.

"You reek of corruption, Twilight Sword."

He grunted, and yet he pretended not to hear you.

Dainsleif pushed you behind him, eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at your leg.

"Don't act tough," he said, despite tracing traces of his curse with his free hand. "Stand back, you're hurt."

Aether struck first.

"HIYAH!!!"

Dainsleif parried effortlessly.

He smiled, realizing what he had done.

When alone, he's the Bough Keeper, but with you, he stands firm as the Twilight Sword.

"Why are you helping them...?" Their swords clashed against each other in a temporary stalemate. "They're the impostor! They're dangerous!"

Despite his grievances, you were somewhat proud that Aether took your advice to heart when he swiftly aimed for Dainsleif's neck. Even if his efforts were futile.

He's no longer angry, just confused. Aether thought to himself that if Dainsleif is keen on protecting you, then are you his sister’s enemy as well?

But Aether wasn't sure if his views aligned with his sibling.

"Not to brag, but your form is poor." Dainsleif retorted, pointing vaguely at Aether. He pursed his lips, unamused, before slashing Aether's defenses in one strong cut.

Dainsleif kicked him down, forcing him to gasp sharply. His heel dug into the flesh of his cheek. Paimon shook afraid as she watched her companion weakly grab his opponent’s heel.

The Bough Keeper’s eyes darkened. He only had one thought in mind while Aether pathetically wormed under him.

Any man who believes in baseless rumors does not deserve to bask in your presence.

"If my memory serves, My Lord could barely pick up a claymore or hunt a boar. It would be hopeless for them to try and beat you in a spar.” He said with a faint but recognizable teasing lilt. “I'm simply standing in for them."

You could disagree with his claims if you wanted, but he'd reply with a subtly sarcastic "that would be a miraculous development, indeed." Dainsleif never trusted that you can protect yourself because that's what he was there for. But you're done using his services.

Aether pushed Dain away and distanced himself. His bruised cheek and bloody nose could not deter him from his new mission.

The traveler tilted his chin upward. “Dai–”

"Kill me, traveler."

The men flinched.

You walked to your fallen enemy, not caring for how Dainsleif caught your wrist.

"Take my life– before he tries something funny."

After sending Dainsleif an accusatory glance, he pushed you aside forcefully.

"Traveler, your battle is with me."

“I’m your target!"

Dainsleif's face hardened, glaring at you.

You smirked. You can't help but wonder how much 300 years alone had impacted him. He used to be so careful not to offend you and so remorseful when he did. Seems like the captain would bare his fangs with just about anyone that stood in his way. Including his old master. You were happy about this development, yet sad all the same.

You’ve grown tired of everything too, haven’t you, Dain?

"Paimon is so confused, please stop it!"

No one listened to her.

“Traveler, you’re looking for the Creator, right? They’re not here. I lured you here to kill you.”

Dainsleif sneered. “They’re lying. It's possible that everything is under your sister's orders to redirect your path.”

“Lumine has nothing to do with this. I’ve lied about many things but this is not one of them.” You lied nonchalantly.

Aether faltered.

"You know Lumine?"

Dainsleif gripped your shoulder. “(Y/N).”

You huffed and elbowed him. “Shut it, Dain. Your corruption is beyond saving. Don't butt in like this is about you."

"Ngh..."

Dainsleif's eyes softened, visibly stung by your words. He bit his lip and looked at the floor for a brief moment.

Aether and Paimon were speechless. They did not expect you to speak so harshly nor did they expect to see him look hurt.

You looked back at the traveler.

"Traveler, why don't you prove yourself worthy of being the main character and take us both out?"

Paimon shrieked and palmed her cheeks.

"W-Wait! Why don't we all just talk instead?!" Paimon screamed.

"Paimon's right."

Aether sheathed his sword back. You and Dain met each other's eyes, before staring at the traveler, confused.

"Jianfeng..."

His hand shakily pointed to your leg.

Saturated blood oozes from your open wound. No means a regular sight and unwise to call it a vibrant hue.

Your blood glitches.

It spills, yet evaporates into thin air. You stared at your wound as if it wasn't yours. You forgot that you were supposed to cover it, but–

Would a normal person's blood look like red-black cubes?

There's only one other person Aether knew had red-black cubes.

And it was the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.

"Was I wrong…?"

Aether's knees buckled, shaking. His eyes stared up apologetically, mouth agape.

"Are you… The real Creator?"

...

Dainsleif went rigid. He felt the air shift but he needn't look behind. The Twilight Sword knew you didn't like that question at all.

Your expression dampened.

The Traveler had successfully provoked you.

"My Lord, please stand back."

…

The silence was unbearably long.

And then, you clicked your tongue.

"No." You said firmly. "No, I don't think I should."

You stomped your foot.

And the Chasm trembled.

The floating mushrooms scurried for a place to hide as the unstable foundations of the upside-down city crashed their weight down. The floating debris shook and fell in the sudden momentum– asphalt slimes shriveled and the cave's miniature plateaus slipped like pencil shavings with a thunderous thud.

Rubbles echoed every moment or two, threatening to collapse.

You can't think of a better way to answer him than this.

In one stomp of your foot, the underground mines shook as much as an ancient dragon's tantrums. There was no visible effort put into causing this phenomenon.

The air began to weigh heavily.

You stole Dainsleif's sword without him noticing before pointing it beside Aether's neck. You looked down on him with your chin up.

There was no divine work in play, no illusions, no elements. Every Archon both dead and alive knew that your measly power cannot summon the elements.

But gravity is in your hands.

"Enough." You commanded, voice cold and piercingly authoritative. "Just kill me, traveler. Kill me and go on your merry way, before I end this game right here– before the Chasm crumbles."

"Your Grace–"

Aether begged, kneeling on small shaky pointed rocks.

You let out a guttural groan, exasperated. He heard your throat strain itself as you answered him bitterly.

"WRONG. I am Their Impostor. Teyvat had abandoned me long ago. I bore no "divine" power nor "will" of my own, instead, Rhinedottir molded me to Their likeness."

If you told him that at the restaurant, Aether would've believed you. Your aura was akin to Albedo's, but there was something the chief alchemist lacked.

Divine blood.

You inched the blade closer. The blood that spilled from his neck was unlike yours. It was red. It was shapeless. They were not cubes.

"T-That doesn't sound right!" Came Aether's shaky reply. "You HAVE to be The Creator, Y-Your Grace! No one else can replicate your blood– and the way you shook the Chasm just now it's–"

Aether speaks like Lord Barbatos.

"And so what?"

"H-Huh?"

Enough.

You've heard this multiple times from Kairos.

Your blood began to boil.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

"So what if I look like Them? If I have Their powers?" You said, eyes lifeless.

"So what if I'm The real Creator? Do you think I'd come back? After how this world had treated me? That I would graciously fix this realm's problems. Am I a tool? A plot device like you? Do you think I'll motivate the Knights, help Morax find a replacement, reverse Inazuma's grievances, reinstate Rukkhadevata's form and dignity with the oh-so goodness of my heart?"

Aether gulped. He did not speak. You were right.

The Chasm continued to shake.

You gritted your teeth. "The greed in your eyes disgusts me. You've traveled far enough, surely you know how inherently selfish this world is? Aren't you tired, Traveler?"

There's one more thing hidden within his eyes that you forgot to mention.

Aether cried.

It was regret.

You put away Dainsleif's sword, clanking it down the floor. You smiled crookedly and cupped Aether's cheek,

before reaching for his neck.

"If you can't bring yourself to kill me, why don't we both stop breathing, together?"

"(Y/n), that's enough!"

Dainsleif ordered.

The vibrations stopped.

You didn't know what came over you. Was it survival instincts? Baseless hope? The desperation in his voice? Or a fragment of trust you had left from when you traveled with him?

Dainsleif reached his hand out. His frown was not a display of toughness, but genuine concern.

"It's no longer safe here. The Abyss Order has sensed our movements and I can tell they're heading our way. We'll leave. Now."

His hand looked welcoming, warm, and enticing, but your heart was not in it.

Your eyes wandered elsewhere.

You recalled a distant memory from long ago. Barbatos often told you that "He who leaves a good name does not die poor." and you wondered why. And so, you foolishly lived more than a hundred human lives in search of a proper answer. Immortality devours the soul, and you expected that after the fifteenth life you may not grasp the true meaning behind his ramblings.

But at that moment, you looked at Aether’s pained eyes and got your answer.

Ah.

"I got it."

You took a step back near the cliff's edge, facing the two men. Dainsleif gradually prepared himself for a sprint. The faint crunch of your shattered glasses resonated through the cave, and if you took another step, you'd fall.

Yelan's reports state that there should be a portal below this platform. It should be the same place Dainsleif warped from.

You're uncertain that it's still open.

But hey.

Haven't you always wished for something that only has a 50/50 chance?

"This is my farewell as Jianfeng, a tax accountant."

You jumped off with a big stupid grin.

For a brief moment, Dainsleif felt as if icicles were pressed against his internal organs. His eyes widened.

"LORD (Y/N)!!!"

He did not hesitate– your most loyal retainer dashed forward like a wild animal and jumped with you.

Aether watched how his Creator sank deep into the Chasm from above in pure horror.

You lost yourself.

This was the stupidest asspull you've ever done in the past 500 years.

You roared with laughter as Dainsleif pulled you close to protect you from the fall. He longed to hear your laughter, but this sound was disjointed and airy– an inexpensive imitation. Dainsleif closed his eyes and groaned almost inaudibly. He's been starving for your touch, and he can no longer hold back.

Dain snuggled against you, his fingers tangled in your hair. You smelled like violetgrass.

"I'll never leave you alone again." He whispered desperately, wanting to add that this was his new oath but couldn't due to lack of air, something you had plenty of. You did not hear it. All you heard were the flaps of his cape.

The air pressure prickles into your skin. As you both plunged into something similar to the abyss, his hands roamed around your back, keeping your scarf in place as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You did nothing to stifle your misplaced laughter.

You wanted to tell her that you finally understood Barbatos' proverbs, his everything.

The portal should close soon, but you'll both make it.

Should your body rot away in the depths of Chasm's shallow wind, you hope to witness the endless cycle of life again without those azure-colored lenses–

"You can't leave me. Never."

–as no one else but Lord (Y/n) (L/n), and their most loyal retainer, Dainsleif, the Twilight Sword.

—-----------

“Your Highness, it appears that Dainsleif had captured Your Grace.”

“Traitor, but he kept his promise.” She spoke, not in a way that betrayed any emotions. The Princess said it as what it was: a fact.

In one hand, the Princess poured herself a glass of wine, elegantly gulping the contents in one go. She couldn’t be bothered to hold it with both hands when the other held a priceless artifact. Once she placed her empty glass on the silk-covered table, she lazily beckoned the Abyss Lector forward.

“Burn all the inteyvats left in the Chasm.”

The Lector, Enjou, hesitantly raised his head. “But Your Highness–”

“I did not cultivate them for my brother to find.” She said, looking at the cracked azure shards sitting on her palm. “It was for Them, and you failed to lead Them there.”

The Abyss Princess lovingly kissed the broken shards.

“I wonder…” Lumine looked up.

"What is it like to finally see the world without these glasses, Your Grace?"

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captainofthetidesbreath · 2 months

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I've been thinking about teletherics and mica, especially since the appendices for 3.02 is a pocket guide to telethric transduction.

Teletherics is an Un-based technology, and teletheric waves aren't Fold-safe; the appendices for 1.05 mention that they need to be converted for rebroadcast into the Fold along cables for that reason. So, you can't transmit teletheric waves through the Fold. This is also suggested by the fact that Kozma's agenda lists all her teletheric calls after she leaves Midst; she can't have done it before then, in the Fold.

Apparently, teletherics can involve mica. The art of Backpack and her teletheric equipment includes a parabolic dish that uses a shard of mica as a feed antenna. Seeing as teletheric receivers, such as Ginsberg's in the icon for 1.03 and Hieronymous's in art for 3.02, don't feature visible mica, I presume then that her equipment is using it for transmission. If teletheric waves are transmitted using mica, that may explain why they're not Fold-safe. Teletheric signals are, of course, created using specially-boculated electric currents. A mica antenna would interact with that, then radiate it to a receiving teletheric transducer.

As a sidebar, the breakdown of the word teletheric is also very interesting to me: tele- + aetheric. I wonder if the Un is as empty as it seems to be when in compared to the Fold. Perhaps there is some stuff out there in the Un that they have not yet learned to measure. Or, perhaps teletheric is aetheric in the sense of aether theory and the transmission of waves through a medium. Or, in the sense of luminiferous aether and old theories on the movement of light. Or, perhaps in the sense of the mythological personification of the bright upper sky.

If mica is capable of transmitting teletheric waves, how do teletheric signals interact with the mica fields of the Un? Radio engineering is not as simply as any old piece of metal can act as an antenna, there's electric currents and what-not, but in this fantasy world in which our understanding of teletherics and mica is limited, it is a question. (And who is to say that things don't work slightly differently in the cosmos.) Do teletheric signals interact with mica bergs at all? Does wild mica bounce those signals across the Un?

If mica transmits signals, waves, does it have resonance then? Does it vibrate? Do mica bergs make sound as they float through the Un, and is it audible? Or, does it resonate a tone that is below the typical threshold of human hearing, like the third sound of a superfluid?

Hell, while I'm asking questions. Can someone end up with the opposite of what Lark has with the Fold, where they can hear mica resonating through the Un? Is there some soul out there, cosmos whispering to them, who can hear its crystalline tones resonating out across the Un, or the sound of lightning in the Delta or unships passing through the upper Un bouncing off the bergs, or teletheric signals transmitting out through the mica?

But, I'm getting ahead of myself: mica and teletherics and the transmission of sound. I think about teletherics and the shapes of all associated with it. Priathic notation reminds me of neumes, or even modern notation with beams but no stems. The impulses are tonal and have harmonics. Teletheric transducers uses fluted pipes, and those pipes make them look like small pipe organs. With that—

Does mica sing? Can you hear it if you tune in just right?

#I just LOVE asking questions about the way a fictional world works knowing I will never get answers. It's just FUN for me to think about.#What is the material reality of the cosmos!! It's fun to spin questions out of it!#Midst #Midst podcast #Midst things

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elizabethrobertajones · 4 months

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Zero had been right; she'd found Dzemael Darkhold on a map without even knowing what she pointed at, and truth was finally something Frog could hunt for.

No more being haunted by who the avatar was bound to her, bound to this stone or her scythe or her very soul. No more brief glimpses in the heat of combat of the world from the reaper's eyes. The whisper of a name long-forgotten until she'd burst into the glorious light of Etheirys to fight alongside Frog.

No more guilt after meeting Zero and learning the truth of Zenos' avatar. Of feeling the first clench in her stomach to think that voidsent were no more monsters than the Light-poisoned people she'd cried for on the First. Drusilla said it was consensual, the voidsent certainly hungered for exactly what Frog put her to work doing. She'd felt that hunger, but also the excitement, the glee that her avatar burst with as she clawed out of the void and along the blade of Frog's scythe. But Frog had living weapons aplenty. This was a person.

The summoning could only be brief, long enough to assuage her soul, and make contact but it was a perfect summoning. No vessel, no statue. Not with Frog's soul and her connection to the avatar. The words of the spell Y'shtola had crafted. The aether Frog would freely offer to make this contact.

Her heart felt heavy that Zero had left, that she wouldn't be here to see the end result of their hard work. A tiny hope flared that perhaps she could use this time to guide her avatar to Zero's side. Send a message. Perhaps do this summoning again when she had strength to spare.

But only if the avatar wanted to run messages between shattered shards, because she was a person.

Frog forced herself to concentrate, clear her mind, and ready herself.

As she spoke the words, she felt the drifting tendrils of void magic that had made this cave so uninhabitable, had resisted an attempt to wall them up and still to this day spawned demons that repelled attempts to tame the depths. The darkness twisted, slithered up from the chasms, and burned and burned, pulling at her core, winding out the aether to feed the small rift. To reach deep into the void, and tug at something.

Darkness overwhelmed the cavern, and a thunderclap echoed through the tunnels, rolling on and on in a dazing reverberation. The dark aether flooded around her and Frog steeled herself not to cringe back, to know she was ready to slay any horror that came ravening out in the seconds she so foolishly smashed walls that had only been as sturdy as the Dzemael stonemason's brickwork between Source and Thirteenth.

A presence joined her.

"FROG? Is that YOU? Why aren't we FIGHTING?" squeaked a voice at her knee, as the portal spluttered, its harvest complete.

"Franci?! Is that you?"

"You got a PROBLEM with that?"

"I - I expected..." She trailed off, and decided not to say what she had expected. She'd given Ardbert enough grief for being waist height after all. "Why are you dressed like a farmer?"

"I WAS a farmer. Oh! I didn't know I was a farmer until I said that. HEY I remember who I aM. WOW. What did you DO?"

"... You're also a lot louder than I expected. Uh. Let's sit down and talk, Franci."

"I have a NAME. WOOOW."

(this post is titled: In Which Frog Discovers Her Very Loud Annoying Shard)

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #6.5 spoilers #gpose #bounding frog #this post brought to you by the kick in the pants that lore confirming your reaper avatar is maybe your shard is canon #.... idk how Golbez figures into this... souls are weird though #ANYWAY meet Franci :D #I knew what she looked like as soon as I thought about who the reaper avatar had been as a person #took me a while to narrow the lore down :P #she was in no way a fighter in life #but she's bonded well enough with Frog it's a sort of combat feedback loop and all she needs is to go beastmode #and she contains a LOT of oomph in a tiny package #i wrote this #my stuff

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punkpandapatrixk · 9 months

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[PPA Masterlist] [corresponding PAC]

🌓Sweet Girl Venus ★ Concept Affirmations

〜スイート〜

〜ガール〜

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〜ビーナス！

concept🌓I am a Sweet Girl Venus. I am the perfect embodiment of a kind personality. The essence of my being is sweet loving and soft. Everywhere I go I radiate compassion and tender beauty. I am always considerate and respectful. My conducts are kind and intentional. I am thoughtful and express myself clearly. When ever I move how ever I move I exude elegance and beauty. My presence is healing and appreciated by those who meet me. I am free from the influences of those who seek to harm me. I express myself freely confidently and safely. I am a Sweet Girl Venus.

communication🌓I am an impassioned articulator. My voice is enchanting and very pleasing to the ear. When I speak kindness overflows from my tone and voice. I speak with kindness and compassion. My speech is soft and clear as crystal. My words are meaningful and substantial. When I speak people listen to me intently and attentively. I am appreciated for my contributions to a situation. I am heard and appreciated when I communicate my thoughts ideas and feelings. I speak with conviction and healthy confidence. I always know what I am saying and the effects I intend to achieve. My words and voice easily comfort those who are hurting or confused. My advice is uplifting and empowering. The way I speak is delicate yet charismatic. I articulate the sweetest words genuine from my heart because I am a Sweet Girl Venus. I speak kindly to myself and others. My words are imbued with good intentions. I speak with pink clarity. I am an impassioned articulator.

creativity🌓I am a creative force of the Divine Feminine. I am a magical co-Creator of Mother God. My Divine Femininity is healed nourished and empowered by Mother God. I easily tap into my Divine Feminine prowess to create a world of beauty. My world of beauty is safe in the prayers of my Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides. I consciously subconsciously and superconsciously create a world of beauty that serves my highest good. I invite those I love and care about into my world of creativity and beauty. Only those with good intention are welcomed into my world of creativity and beauty. I am a vibrational match to high-frequency entities ONLY. I strictly protect my world of creativity and beauty. I am free from the influences of those who seek to disturb my world of peace and harmony. I live in a clean and safe environment free from noisy dangerous neighbours and unpleasant smells now and forever. My aethereal world and physical world are free from negative frequencies and protected from low-vibing humans and entities now and forever. I am safe and guarded now and forever. I am a creative force of the Divine Feminine protected by Mother God Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides now and forever.

beauty🌓I am a being of exquisite beauty. I am the epitome of class. I am pretty and healthy. My skin is perfectly soft and beautiful free from any and all flaws now and forever. My skin has the natural capability of healing itself from any and all discomforts quickly and effortlessly. My skin hair and body are nourished by the highest essence of Planet Earth. My teeth bones and organs are perfectly healthy functional and free from ailments now and forever. Whether sitting down or standing up my posture is always correct and healthy. My movements are elegant graceful and beautiful. What ever I do and how ever I move I am charming and charismatic. I embody the highest essence of the perfect Divine Feminine. I am elegance incarnate. My facial expressions are beautiful soft and charismatic at all times. What ever I do where ever I am I look like an elegant beautiful painting. My movements are intentionally and unintentionally beautiful graceful and captivating. I take excellent care of my body and soul. I am always smelling nice and fragrant. I always have the means and resources to buy all the beauty products I need. I am a lucky beautiful creature. I am a being of exquisite beauty.

glowup🌓I command the most magical glowup right this moment. I break the boundaries of the Matrix. I unlock the conscious subconscious and superconscious that remember the tricks of the Matrix. I navigate through the limitations of the Matrix effortlessly. I dissolve false beliefs about the workings of the Matrix expediently. I break the limitations of the physical world right this moment. I bend physical reality now to my will to serve the highest good of myself and all around me. I transcend above limiting beliefs now and forever. I am free from the chains of the Matrix now and forever. I create my Desired Reality right now and at all times. I am living my Desired Reality now and forever. All my dreams are now Reality. All my desires serve me and the good of the one and all. All my desires are destined for me. All my desires are protected by my Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides. My destiny is mine. I create my own destiny. My destiny is free from getting hijacked by negative forces and negative entities. My destiny and Akashic Records are shielded from the prying eyes of any and all entities who wish me harm. My glowup is effortless and feels natural. My glowup is well-rounded. The most amazing glowup is written in the stars for me. I command the most magical glowup right this moment.

luxury🌓My Life is the perfect definition of luxury. Everything I own is luxurious and beautiful. My tastes are refined. I invest wisely I spend wisely. I only buy high-quality products I need to beautify my Life. I am grateful for my luxurious Life. Luxury is natural to me. I am wealthy. I feel safe owning a lot of money. My finances are always in check. I know my financial conditions at all times. I maintain a high level of financial health. I earn money effortless easily and joyfully doing all the things I love. I am passionate about Life. Life is good and easy. Life is beautiful in my neighbourhood because I decide so. I am luxury. I am beauty. I am harmony. I spread beauty luxury and harmony where ever I go. I am appreciated for my luxurious lifestyle. I inspire and uplift others to become luxurious like me. I am free from envy jealousy and the evil eye. People are grateful to know me because I inspire them to become luxurious like me. I am grateful that people appreciate me for my luxurious lifestyle and who I am as I express myself. I am inspired by beautiful luxurious things. I am inspired by beautiful luxurious people. I am free from envy. I am free from jealousy. Other people’s beauty motivates me. Other people’s luxury motivates me. My attitude towards beauty and luxury is healthy at all times. I love all things beautiful and luxurious reasonably and sanely. I am motivated to do good with all the beauty and luxury I am blessed with. The Universe bestows beauty and luxury on me now and forever. My Life is always easy and comfortable. I deserve to live beautifully and luxuriously. Everything good in Life is in easy mode. My Life is the perfect definition of luxury.

healing🌓My Life flows with the gentle rhythm of the Divine Feminine. I dissolve all fears traumas and pains associated with my divine femininity now and forever. I am healed from all fears traumas and pains associated with my divine femininity now and forever. I dissolve all agreements with any and all kinds of energy vampires parasites and anklebiters now and forever. I am healed from all fears traumas and pains caused by any and all kinds of energy vampires parasites and anklebiters now and forever. I dissolve all emotional and physical attachments to any and all kinds of energy vampires parasites and anklebiters now and forever. I heal from disappointments past and future easily naturally and effortlessly. I handle rejection and disappointment gracefully. I embody healthy self-esteem. My self-worth remains intact in the face of rejection and disappointment. I make peace with my divine femininity right this moment. I embrace my divine femininity at all times. I embody the highest kindest expression of divine femininity. I am patient with myself and others. I understand where people are coming from. I accept differences peacefully and respectfully. I am unaffected by other people’s negativity. I continue to develop my wisdom and understanding of the world in and around me. I intuitively choose the path of least resistance at all times. I am conscious of my healthy relationship with my divine femininity. My Life flows with the gentle rhythm of the Divine Feminine.

LOVE🌓Every day I am full of Love. I love myself truly and fully. I love myself unconditionally at all times. I am free from the manipulation of conditional love. I am healed from the falsities of fake love. I am protected and shielded from any and all influences of false love template at all times. I maintain my own highest True Divine Love Template stored in my DNA. I unlock my subconscious conscious and superconscious memory of True Divine Love Template. I am a perfectly balanced embodiment of True Divine Love Template. I only go where the Love is. I only follow the Love in my higher heart. I am guided by Love. My higher heart leads the way back to Love. I am a loving being of the True Divine Love Template. I am True Divine Love incarnate. I love genuinely deeply and passionately. My Life is full of Love. My friends are all beings of True Divine Love. My family is founded on True Divine Love Template. I am grateful for all the Love I feel and receive every day. I am grateful for the guidance of Mother God of Divine Feminine. I carry myself and humanity back to True Divine Love Template. All is well for in the end there is always Love. Every day I am full of Love.

PEACE🌓I exist in a peaceful world of beauty and harmony. I live my everyday filled with peace of mind body and spirit. I make peace every day with the harshness of the world. I forgive myself easily when someone has crossed me. I am unaffected by other people’s attempts at ruining my world of peace beauty and harmony. My world of beauty and harmony are protected by Mother God of Divine Feminine. I live peacefully in a world of beauty luxury harmony protected by my Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides at all times. I command the positive Light forces of the Cosmos to protect my peace all around me. I am peaceful within myself. I am at peace with my existence on Planet Earth. I am a force of change that contributes to healing of Mankind. Planet Earth returns to peace right this moment. Those who come into contact with my energy are brought back to peace harmony and beauty. I am observant of other people’s intentional attempts at bringing my vibrations down. I am the eye of the storm. I easily find my middle ground in the complex streams of Human experiences of Love. I remain calm and graceful in the face of adversity and falsity. I choose the right course of action at all times. I choose peace and harmony for myself. Other people’s negativity is outside my field of concern. I am at peace with other people experiencing their own polarities. I am at peace with other people still being unpeaceful within themselves. I protect my energy at all times. I recall my aenergy from those whose intentions do not serve my highest good. My decisions to remain peaceful and be peace incarnate benefit me and everyone else. My decision to remain peaceful and be at ease with the complexities of the Human World is of service to the experiences of the one and all. I intuitively know when to be at peace and when to stand my ground. I am clear of the differences between remaining peaceful and being a coward. I differentiate clearly between being peaceful and being a coward. I am strong in my conviction to create a beautiful balanced world of sweetness and kindness. I exist in a peaceful world of beauty and harmony.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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smallgodseries · 1 year

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[image description: A stunning Black woman with a large afro sits on a slanted musical bar wearing only a yellow robe. Behind and in front of her, musical notation floats in a painterly blue and cyan sky. Some of the notes in the stanza are as you’d expect. But others are literally hooks. Text reads, “181, BELLE RINGER • SMALL GOD OF MUSICAL ‘HOOKS’”]

• • • • •

Before she came along, drones and chants were where it was AT. Find a note, so your audience would have to pay attention, and beat it to death one syllable at a time. If you were feeling really innovative, you could pound a heavy beat on a rock at the same time. Who needed melody, or harmony, or variation?

Forming in the aether, Belle heard these single-sound songs, and knew that they were good. But more, she knew that they could be so much BETTER, and in that knowledge, a small god was born.

She came into being already knowing her place and her purpose, and with her she brought music that stuck to the soul, songs that would be remembered when the singer was no longer singing them, refrains that would be repeated and spread from person to person, fire to fire, like fleas skipping between rats. She elevated music from pastime to pathogen, and as the infection rolled across humanity’s consciousness, she rolled with it, laughing all the while.

She is surprisingly unchanged from those early days, is Belle; like the alligator, she found her perfect form easy and early, and she stopped there, needing no evolution to refine her. She is the hook in the harmony, the meat in the melody, the depth in the descant, and she knows no genres, and she knows no borders. She knows only the song, and the joy of seeing it spread.

She was with Freddie Mercury when he channeled the divine in his own rhapsodies, and she was with the people who wrote that toothpaste commercial you heard when you were ten years old, the one that haunts you still today. She does not distinguish between “good” music and “bad” music: music is music in our Belle’s ears, and she wants it played long and loud and everything else can be discussed over time and tea and noise complaints.

She is here. She has been here for a very long time. She is not going anywhere.

And never, never tell her to turn the music down.

• • • • •

Please join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) each week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many tiny divinities:

WordPress: https://leemoyer.wordpress.com/

Instagram: https://instagram.com/smallgodseries/

Homepage: http://smallgodseries.com

Mastodon: @[email protected]

#Small Gods #smallgodseries #Seanan McGuire #Lee Moyer #icons and stories

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batcadillac · 1 year

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Feral Aether I know it's quite dark... But in the pit where Quintessence Ghouls take the "life" from their victims, no light is there to guide those empty tormented souls out of the darkness...

For who get sent here are the ones whose gluttony had taken its toll of others but themself.

#Feral aether #aether ghoul #quintessence ghoul #nameless ghoul #the nameless ghouls #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost bc fanart

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exalted-magic · 3 months

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cozy at the fc house ^^ quick picture bc the lighting was really pretty

#ffxiv #ff14 #gposers #ffxiv screenshots #my screenshot #they who guide souls to the aether

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theresattrpgforthat · 10 months

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ttrpgs with in-depth magic systems?

THEME: In-Depth Magic Systems

You'll find a number of trad games here because that's what pops into my head when someone talks about in-depth magic.

Mage: The Ascension and Mage: The Awakening, by Onyx Path Publishing.

The Council of Nine Mystic Traditions, a loose coalition of nine organizations of differing philosophies and magical practices, stand for personal freedom -- sometimes regardless of cost -- and responsibility. In opposition is the shadowy Technocratic Union, a seemingly monolithic conspiracy which seeks to protect humanity from the unseen dangers of the universe at large, typically through ignorance and control. Other factions, the Nephandi and the Marauders, who personify the depths humanity can sink to and the abdication of responsibility, also have their part to play in the struggle as each side strives to win over and guide -- or rule -- the unknowing masses of the world. (Mage: the Ascension)

You are a mage, one of the Wise. You see, know, and explore what others can’t imagine, from the depths of the human soul to the hidden corners of reality. Armed with your spells, driven by an addiction to Mysteries, you delve into the secrets of the world. Knowledge has a price, and the dangers are many. (Mage: The Awakening)

Mage: The Ascension was originally published by White Wolf in 1993, and Mage: The Awakening was released in 2005 as part of the company’s attempt to “update” their settings to a newer rule-set. The fans wouldn’t have that, however, so now both versions of Mage can be found on places such as DriveThruRpg.

The lore for both of these games has overlap, but they are distinctly different. In Mage: The Ascension, there is more conflict between mages, especially in regards to technology vs mysticism. In Mage: The Awakening, mages have a more common culture even if their magical practices differ. What both of these systems offer is a complex system of magic, rife with politics (as is traditional for any World of Darkness game) and a long storied history that the mages of today cannot extricate themselves from. If you love reading about lore, factions, and secret societies, these might games worth getting into.

Ars Magica, by Atlas Games.

Ars Magica is the award-winning roleplaying game by Jonathan Tweet and Mark Rein•Hagen about wizards and their allies in Mythic Europe. This flexible, deeply built world can support games that are historically accurate or fantasy-based, epic or small scale, political or personal.

Players work together to tell the story of their covenant — all of the magi, their companions, and grogs. This history can span decades. It might be heroic, tragic, or both in turn. The covenant could influence the entirety of Mythic Europe or the fates of a small corner of the world.

Spells will be cast. Duels won and lost. Houses may rise and fall. But magic is forever.

Ars Magica has been around for a long time, the first version of the game going back to 1987. It uses d10s and stat bonuses, but the magic system in particularly is known to be a major focus of the game. Spells are rituals and must be learned, and if used too quickly, can cause fatigue. The system details a number of rules for creating magical items, studying magical books, creating new spells, binding familiars, etc. If you are interested in a medieval magic setting and decades of lore, this might be your game.

If you would like to learn more about this game, there’s an in-depth review on RPG.net that can be found here!

MEGALOS, by matura (@matty-from-megalos).

MEGALOS is a game for telling stories about adventures in the clouds, fighting evil empires, and dueling ancient gods. The Worlds of MEGALOS are vast and old, each a cosmic emanation connected to one another by the Wellspring- the source of all aether in the cosmos. Make your own World of MEGALOS or play in one of the standard ones, from the Oradam Rift to Pallid Telkane to Zone Gachette. Soar through the air in an airship, dogfight imperials, and wield aetheric magicks as a punk-rock witch.

This tabletop game is inspired by things like classic JRPGs, electronica music, and medieval alchemy. MEGALOS is the first of the creator's games to use the SLIPSTREAM game engine, which uses pools of d20s as the core of its task resolution mechanic.

As a science-fantasy setting, MEGALOS roots its magic in Aether crystals, a naturally occurring concentration of energy. This means that magic is explainable and quantifiable - meaning that you can create a lot of interesting magical technology in this game. Your characters abilities are split up over traits, skills and cutscene approaches for a mix of stat-driven and narrative play (although combat rules feature heavily in this book). There’s also character Classes and Callings, which distinguish you from other characters, and also grant you access to specific Powers and Talents. To me, this looks like each character’s approach to magic will be dependant on the categories they choose at character creation, and magic generally seems to be a common method of combat.

The full rulebook is $25, but if you want to take a look at just the plaintext rules, you can download them for free! If you’re interested in expanding the game, there’s also a Webs and Wires Supplement that includes extra options for magitek gear, new callings and classes, and expanded rules! If you like a combination of modular characters and narratively interesting choices, you might want to check this game out.

Lex Arcana, by Archeron Games.

In Lex Arcana, you are a Custos (warden) of the Cohors Auxiliaria Arcana, sent by the Emperor to the four corners of the world to further the study of arcane lore, investigate forbidden cults, and face the thread posed by dangerous supernatural creatures.

The Emperor needs you!

Join the Cohors Auxiliaria Arcana, enter the world of Lex Arcana and dive into the mysteries and dangers of ancient Rome. You and the other Custodes will travel to the four corners of the land, investigate terrifying threats, recover lost relics, unearth forgotten secrets and fight legendary supernatural creatures.

Bundle of Holding describes this game as Cthulhu Invictus meets The X-Files: it’s a game in which Rome never fell and the supernatural and arcane is a constant mystery that must be unravelled. Your characters are paragons of combat and magic, and have been recruited for the Auxiliary Cohort of Secrets, tasked with unveiling supernatural threats and stopping them. Spells in this game are called Indigitamenta, or Incantations, and represent calling onto Roman Deities for aid. Rolling in this game can use any dice - and in fact, they players can choose whether they roll a dice pool or a larger dice - 3d4, 2d6, or 1d12 for example, if your stats total 12.

I think this is a really interesting set of mechanics, and I expect the lore of drawing upon divine power to fuel your spells to be equally fun to play with. Bundle of Holding has a bundle on for this game until June 26 that’s a really great deal - you should check it out!

#tabletop games #game recommendations #asks #indie ttrpgs #dnd #magic systems #fantasy

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kelp-person · 2 years

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you know, i see a lot of genshin sagau fics/headcanons featuring the creator as some divine being who is either a.) from our world, where genshin is a game to them, or b.) an already immortal being who just vibes in the background without their worshippers knowing. and while i understand that those concepts have a charm and appeal to them, what about ...

᯽ a creator who hides away on the dark side of the moon in a large workshop, where they spend their days over an anvil with a giant hammer in hand as they craft something, anything that their heart desires. perhaps it's a new world, or maybe it's a weapon to gift to their creations, or maybe even a new animal for them to send off to see how it fares and how their other creations react to it.

᯽ a creator who does not bleed gold, or anything for that matter, for why would a being made of nothing need such mortal things to thrive? with this, the creator can be recognized by one thing and one thing only: the black markings that decorate their body - especially the upper half of their face, which also holds sparkling eyes of white pupils and vibrant, space-like colors of sclera; so bright that they glow even in the darkest of places.

᯽ a creator who has each world that they've carefully crafted on a pedestal, where they can watch their creations thrive and progress through their lives and take note of how they choose to live ( because even if the life they choose is one of darkness and cruelty, their creator will always love them, because after all: each of them were made with a spark of them inside their souls, although the creator highly doubts they'll ever know that ).

᯽ a creator whose ears are long and pointed and fingers are clawed, looking as if they had been dipped in pools of tar with the blackness that covers them. and if that fact alone doesn't seem monstrous enough, imagine a mere mortal's reaction when they see that their creator's hands can shift into anything they desire, such as a blade or - their personal favorite - a hammer.

᯽ a creator who looks on in pride behind their round goggles ( because although they are an immortal god, getting stuff in their eyes as they work is still a pain ) as two of their most recent creations ( who had given themselves the names of "lumine" and "aether" ) travel through the many worlds they had created and discover the many promises and gifts that lay beneath their surfaces.

᯽ a creator who, after witnessing the world-traveling siblings' separation, snarls in anger as one of their fellow gods dare defy them. the rage they hold for this act alone is enough to make their entire workshop shake and make the small stars that explore the place and peek through cracks shiver out of fear.

᯽ a creator who sends one of their stars ( named paimon ) down to the land of teyvat to act as a guide for the traveler as they help them search for their sibling ( along with the very god who dare cause this mess in the first place ).

᯽ a creator who is, most importantly, not a being of light, but a being of darkness. not because of what morals that lie within them, though, but because of the fact that they are willing to be known as the black sky of the night so that their creations - their moons and stars - can shine the brightest in front of them.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin impact headcanons #this is what happens when boredom strikes i tell ya #genshin impact x reader #i guess #mc doesn't actually interact with anyone so #idk tbh

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autumnslance · 1 year

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More Teleportation: Anima Mechanics

@windupsanson asked on the teleport post:

#what Anima mechanics of 1.0?????

Some of the 1.0 players may want to chime in on anything I get wrong or miss.

@mirkemenagerie as usual is a good place to find lore and references, and in a 2011 forum post by Community Rep Camate, we have this for 1.0 lore:

Why doesn’t everyone use aetherytes? To traverse the Lifestream safely with Teleport and Return requires a great deal of spiritual energy, known as anima. While many individuals, such as adventurers, possess the fortitude to endure such travel, some individuals do not. What’s more, even if one has the ability to use aetherytes, the frequency with which one can do so varies. In essence, for some, the recast time for these spells can be far longer than for an adventurer. As a result, only a fraction of the populace can utilize aetherial travel habitually, which is why chocobos, airships, and other forms of transportation still play a major role in Eorzea.

Today we use gil for teleportation; the network was damaged significantly in the Calamity, and the guards by every aetheryte are actually collecting the fee to use it so the city-states can recoup the cost of rebuilding, and then continued maintenance.

But in 1.0, they used the Anima system, and you can see it noted in the chatlogs in some of the 1.0 videos from that time when players are teleporting for quests.

Anima was a magic resource players had, in a finite amount, and that replenished very slowly. There was an anima cost to teleport wherever one needed to go, and it was possible to run out of anima if you bounced around too much.

This is why alternative methods of travel, such as chocobo porters, airships, and ferries exist. They were carried over to 2.0 as cheaper/free alternate methods of travel if one is low on gil.

Anima is still mentioned by some characters now and then, as the specific ability to focus one's aether to be able to teleport:

Nicia: “As Return merely involves allowing the body to be drawn back to the strongest aetherial beacon - one’s home point - it is fairly easy to execute and requires very little spiritual exertion. Usually, a few moments of rest is all that is needed before it is safe to attempt another jump. Teleportation, on the other hand, comes with a greater price. A great deal of spiritual energy known as ‘anima’ is required to fight the natural flow of the Lifestream and guide one’s body and soul to a comparatively weak aetherial beacon. If one’s body lacks sufficient anima, teleporting to a location may prove impossible. Luckily for most of us, anima is restored quickly and should not prohibit regular travel.

And

Ludovraint: “Through meditation, you can further attune yourself to an aetheryte crystal, reducing the amount of anima required to travel to that location. Setting ‘favored’ destinations in this manner can be especially beneficial when your adventuring requires traveling to the same location multiple times. We do, however, ask that all adventurers pay a small fee of 500 gil before meditating. These proceeds help to fund camp upkeep and pay the salaries of the men and women who patrol the area.”

Even in Stormblood:

Alphinaud: “Alisaie and I have been hard at work attempting to restore the aetheryte here to its former glory…and I am pleased to inform you that we succeeded! Suffice it to say, it should prove a boon for travel─well, for those replete with anima like you, at least…”

And

Alphinaud: “This aetheryte is perhaps the most strategically important landmark here, as it can serve as a gateway for attuned troops with sufficient anima. Such tactics are not without their risks, however… Were the imperials to discover that the aetheryte was being used in such a fashion, they might turn their artillery upon us─destroying the beacon and the better part of the district, at the cost of countless civilian lives…”

Anima is now treated as more of a synonym for aether and its uses (as well as the HW relic weapon and minion, and not to mention a certain primal in EW). It's possible, in my opinion, that the Watsonian lore reason for the change could be that the Seventh Umbral Calamity made anima use easier, to where it's less of a concern or at least no different than other uses of one's aetheric abilities. Given what we know of the Rejoinings, I think it makes some degree of sense.

The Doylist reasoning, of course, is it's a depreciated mechanic that was removed for ease of development and play, a gil sink being far more reasonable and simpler than yet another resource with a singular function.

I also tend to headcanon most people actually have to use the aetherytes to move to and fro, and teleporting from a random field location can be harder/take more anima. Hence us seeing our comrades walk away instead of a teleport animation, or Ysayle actually walking up and using the aethryte in Snowcloak while destroying the beacon on the other end (to avoid the situation Alphinaud describes with the Doman aetherytes during the rebellions there).

Though we do of course see some folks teleport directly; a retainer will when helping them out to unlock your own retainer ventures, and of course Lamitt leads the entire squad of Warriors of Darkness out of Ravana's arena; a feat that had to take a LOT of anima, but as a magic-using Warrior of Light, she has plenty.

Anyway, that's what I know and can find quickly about the use of anima and teleportation, and how it was eased off to make teleportation more convenient in the game's relaunch.

#Final Fantasy XIV #1.0 #A Realm Reborn #Legacy #Teleportation #Anima #lore #game mechanics

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lilypadlys · 5 months

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Domestic December Day 14 - Morning Routine

Aether, Mountain, and Dewdrop starting their day.

Notes: Prompt list by comp-lady. See prompt list here

Coffee and good morning kisses below the cut or on AO3

Aether and Mountain are both early risers. Neither of them are much for sleeping in super late even on days off, and their tasks around the ministry require them to be up early. Mountain heads off to the greenhouse while the morning dew is still dampening the grass, and the never ending paperwork or patient care of the hospital wing is forever calling Aether’s name.

As a result, they are the first ones who are up in the morning. Besides Dewdrop that is. He also rises with the sun but is often less than social, first thing. It’s become something of a routine. Between Mountain and Aether, whoever makes it to the ghoul’s kitchen first will prepare caffeine for the other. They have each other’s drinks memorized; how Mountain likes a tablespoon of honey in his herbal tea and how Aether likes his coffee with milk and nutmeg. When the other wanders in they’ll present the earlier riser with a kiss, the toll for their first dose of caffeine, and gratefully accept the drink.

Then they’ll sit at the table and chat. About the weather, plans for the day, updating each other on the evergoing prank war, or just checking in on each other. They both love it. Putting off the hectic hustle and bustle of the day just a little bit longer. Watching the sun rise through the window over the sink and finding comfort in each other’s presence.

Dewdrop has even started to join them more often of late. On the days he blearily stumbles in after Mountain and Aether are already settled, one of them will guide the sleepy fire ghoul to a chair and the other will present him with coffee. “Black like my soul”, he’ll say when asked for his order. The first and only time Mountain jokingly threatened to just give him a glass of milk, a mug got thrown at his head. Now they just let Dew sip his coffee while conversing amongst themselves until Dew is awake enough to be civil.

All too soon, the sun will begin to light up the sky and Mountain and Aether will reluctantly put their mugs away and part for the morning. Not however, without another kiss or affection head butt. Dew typically responds with an, “Ewww!” or “Blegh, it's too early for you too to be all sappy.” but waits for his gesture of affection from both of them all the same.

Once they head out, Dew may follow, or leave to do his own tasks, but sometimes he’ll wait for Rain or Swiss to stir, both have mastered the art of sleeping in late, and have their caffeine of choice waiting on the counter for them. They’ll both give him a peck on the cheek for his efforts, followed by eye rolls and gagging noises from Dew, but he loves it.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether/mountain/dewdrop #fluff #morning routine #domestic december 2023 #lys writes

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hyakinthou-naos · 17 days

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Theoi Info Sheets Series Part 7: Hermes

"I cannot write about Hermes impersonally. He is the first god who moved me, who opened my hear to the mystery of the gods and the extraordinariness of the ordinary. He is the god of the unexpected, of luck, of coincidences, of synchronicity. 'Hermes has entered in our midst', the ancient Greeks would say when a sudden silence entered the rooom, descended on the coversation, inroduced into the gathering another dimension. Whenever things seemed fixed, rigid, 'stuck', Hermes inroduces fluditiy, motion, new beginnings - and the confusion that almost inevitably preceeds new beginnings"

- The Gods of Greece, Arianna Stassinopoulos & Roloff Beny

I want to take a moment to talk about the syncretisms I personally have for Lord Hermes.

I personally syncretize Lord Hermes with Lord Mercury, The Buddha, and Lord Budha (the Hindu God of the planet Mercury).

I feel as though the syncretism with Lord Mercury is fairly self explanatory so I'll move on to The Buddha.

Both Hermes and The Buddha act as messengers between the realms of Earth and the Aether; Hermes delivering messages to the Theoi and The Buddha delivering messages regarding Dharma and the path to enlightenment. Along the same line, both Hermes and The Buddha are Psychopomp figures; Hermes guides the souls of the departed to The River Stix in The Underworld and The Buddha guides souls toward spiritual liberation and enlightenment.

When comparing Lord Hermes and Lord Budha, there is one obvious parallel- they both rule over/are associated with the planet Mercury. Additionally, both entities are associated with intellect, learning, knowledge, wisdom, and wit. An often overlooked similarity between Hermes and Lord Budha is there association with transgender/non-binary figures.

For Lord Budha, his spouse is the Devi Ila. While this Goddess is sometimes referred to as female (and occasionally regarded as an aspect of Saraswati) she is also referred to as male. I interpret these “inconsistencies” by viewing Ila as a transgender deity.

For Hermes, he (with Aphrodite) fathered Hermaphroditus - an intersex deity associated with androgyny, balance, and the harmonious integration of different energies.

If anyone shares these syncretisms I'd love to hear from you! I have yet to see anyone connect Hermes to The Buddha or Lord Budha.

*You may have seen this info sheet before on thewitchfarhan.tumblr.com - that is my old Tumblr. These info sheets are my own creation - please do not repost without credit.

#Theoi Info Sheets Series #Theoi Info Sheets #The Temple of Hyacinthus #Hermes #Lord Hermes #God Hermes #Hermes Deity

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sagau-fruit-bowl · 2 years

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HELLO! HI! I HAVE JUST COME TO THE REALIZATION NOTHING IS STOPPING ME FROM WRITING HEADCANONS OF [NAME] BEING LIKE, 14 IN GUIDE AU AND BEING ADOPTED BY EVERYONE

Keep in mind this is not the canon, this is me having ideas that make my found family loving heart very happy.

Please enjoy but either way, oh well because I need to write this for my soul.

This also isn't very good, this is me rambling and it has been sitting in my drafts because I didn't know if I should post it or not.

For some context... ish. This is very self indulgent.

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[Name] didn't always look their age, or act it to be honest, and when people think you're a god they let you get away with a lot of things.

So honestly [Name] didn't bother telling anyone their age, it didn't bother anyone, it's not like they had anyone flirting with them, it's not like it would gain them any respect, the only thing it might provide was an explanation for some more childish behaviors of theirs but if you look at Venti, you know it's uncommon of gods to be immature.

It only really came up on accident though someone was bound to find out someday.

It was supposed to be just another Teyvat meeting. Zhongli had some paperwork he wanted signed, Ei had some questions about offerings, Childe wanted me to help him fight Aether, Diluc was fighting the urge to drop kick Scaramouche, Xiao and Venti had gone somewhere and Albedo and Dainsleif were caught in a conversation about some kind of project, that wasn't everyone but it was normal.

However, [Name] found a bit of a problem in the paperwork and sighed. They really didn't want to lie about their age or have anyone know but unfortunately this piece of paper was about payment for items and required you to be of legal age, something [Name] was unfortunately not, so they slid the paper back over in Zhongli's direction who then looked up at them.

"Was there something wrong with it?" He asked and [Name] shrugged.

"I can't sign it. I'm not old enough yet."

Zhongli paused at that, staring at them for a few moments. "Please repeat that…"

"I'm not old enough to sign that. You need to be at least eighteen. to sign for anything regarding financial issues in that country, I'm not." [Name] did their best to reply casually and not make a big deal out of it and luckily for them, Zhongli seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing.

"How old are you exactly?" He asked.

[Name] internally sighed, hoping there wouldn't be any getting in trouble for this. "Fourteen."

Zhongli blanched and [Name] could tell they were likely going to get a rant regarding the fact they had signed so much paperwork, but he surprised them, simply asking "Why didn't you inform us?"

Again, [Name] shrugged. "No reason to. I have a bedroom I can act like a kid in if I so chose."

Unfortunately Zhongli shook his head "No, that won't do. I'll speak with the other archons about lessening your workload and finding you some friends in your age range."

[Name] held back a look of disgust. "No thank you. I'm doing fine, please just treat me according to how I act."

Zhongli nodded and [Name] hoped that would be the end of it.

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Update, it was not the end of it. Two days later, [Name] had been called out to make an appearance in Liyue, some sort of holiday celebration.

If [Name] was being truthful, they weren't actually listening during the meeting, planning their later adventure with Venti and Kaeya, unfortunately that meant they had no clue what they had said yes too.

They had arrived only twenty minutes before but found themselves facing both Zhongli and Childe at a restaurant that had been reserved and [Name] fought to the urge to berate the duo over just how much money this must have cost.

Not long into the meal, Zhongli brought it up again, this time, and [Name] was tempted to say he did this on purpose, with Childe in the room.

"So, Your Grace, I've spoken at length with the other archons over how your duties will change now that we are aware of your situation."

Childe raised an eyebrow "Situation?" He asked.

"Don't worry about it." [Name] told him, glaring daggers into the archon's head, who simply smiled like the self assured asshole he is and spoke, much to [Name]'s chagrin. "Their age. Their Grace is in fact, a minor."

[Name] had to restrain themselves from making a I'm a Minor, and I'm Neurodivergent joke, but decided against it.

Childe looked over to them in shock "You're a kid?! But you act so old… that does explain a lot though."

[Name] rolled their eyes "I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult."

Childe grinned before pausing for a moment and asking another question "What about your family?"

[Name] also paused.

"What do you mean?" Zhongli asked.

Childe straightened himself in his chair as he explained. "Most human children really should spend as much time as possible with their family. I don't know how old they are exactly-" Childe was cut off by Zhongli "Fourteen" "Oh that's even worse. Your Grace, again I ask, what about your family?"

[Name] shrugged once more. "They showed me how to care for myself, I'm sure they'll appreciate that I'm putting those oh so important life skills to use."

Child shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, what are you going to do about your family now?"

"I just told you, they'll be fine."

Childe looked over to Zhongli who shrugged. He knew he wasn't the most aware of the emotional needs of human or godly children.

Childe groaned in annoyance and turned back to [Name] "I mean, you're gonna need somebody to be a sibling or parental figure."

[Name] stared at him. "... No. I refuse. Absolutely not. All of you act more like children than I do. Not a fucking chance."

To [Name]'s annoyance, Childe just laughed "I'd be happy to be your older brother. I'm sure my parents would also be happy to be your parents."

Zhongli nodded slowly in understanding. "If it's a parental figure you need, an archon like myself would be a much better choice to teach you about growing up into godhood."

[Name] buried their face into their arms and groaned.

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When [Name] made a return to Mondstadt, they had a few more unwelcome interactions regarding their legal guardian.

It midday on a so far enjoyable Saturday afternoon, they sat in the training grounds of the Knights headquarters, watching Jean care for Klee and witnessing Bennetts usual stunts when training with Kaeya. [Name] winced at a particularly hard smack on the older man's ankles.

They almost didn't notice when the wind began to pick up, chiming in their ears and attempting to draw their attention.

[Name] tuned into their song just long enough to hear the wind call Venti's name before tuning out once more and mentally preparing themselves for his arrival.

As always when the bard arrived, it wasn't without his share of theatrics.

He had apparently jumped from the top of the knights of Favonius headquarters and didn't bother to use anything to catch his fall until the last moment.

[Name] wasn't startled at his arrival, the warning from the wind being enough, but Bennett sure was, resulting in missed swing from his mentor and a hard blow to his side.

Kaeya looked to the side awkwardly for a moment before regaining his usual demeanor. "And that, is why you don't take your eyes off of your opponent."

Venti simply smiled at let out a small '"ehe!" Before turning to face [Name] who looked at him in confusion as they greeted him.

"Good Morning Venti… Is there something you need?"

He grinned and [Name] just knew they had opened the floodgates to something they didn't want.

"I hear you need a family."

They resisted the urge to punch his stupid smily face.

"I don't need a family." They told him "I'm perfectly fine without a family here in Teyvat."

Jean looked over at the two in curiosity "What are you talking about?"

Venti grinned even wider but [Name] jumped to their feet and placed their hands over his mouth before he could speak, leaving his words as untranslatable noises.

[Name] answered for the muffled god. "Nothing, don't worry about it. Go back to your previous task."

Venti laughed behind their hand and forcibly pulled their arm away from his face. "Their Grace is a child~" he told Jean in a sing song voice.

"Really? You're gonna talk like that and claim I'm the kid in this situation?"

Jean stared at [Name] for a while before whispering "Are you really?"

[Name] rolled their eyes. "Yes. Yes I am. I am fourteen years of age."

She looked at [Name] with a level of pity that tempted them to throw her off a cliff.

"That must be so lonely… to be in a new world without a family… I would gladly take you in if you wanted me as your mother."

[Name] huffed. "This, this is why I don't tell people."

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[Name] had no plans for returning to Mondstadt or Liyue for the time and visiting Snezhnaya would only make Childe's insistence worse, so Inazuma it is.

Arriving, they were constantly on guard for any comment that could have been made towards their age and when they could have sworn Ei was going to say something, they quickly redirected the conversation, requesting to plan a visit to the Kamisato estate, hoping, praying, to anyone who would listen and apparently themselves that nothing would be said.

When they arrived at the estate, all they wanted to do was discuss business. The first conversation ended up derailed however, instead of focusing on trade deals with Snezhnaya and moving towards family stories, Ayato had plenty of stories to tell about his dear younger sister.

It was a story that took place when Ayaka was around [Name]'s age that caused them to tense and one of the two to ask what was wrong.

Honestly [Name] had enough of avoiding the topic at this point that they simply explained, starting with the fact they were fourteen and ending with several tales of people insisting they have a legal guardian while in Teyvat.

"See, the issue is that if I choose someone to be my family, it's like choosing a vessel but twenty times worse. If I choose the wrong person, they'll hold it over everyone else's head for eternity!"

Ayato and Ayaka simply shared a look. "Perhaps" Ayaka began "You could be a part of our family. You'd definitely enjoy it and we promise to be respectful towards others."

Ayato chuckled "For the most part at least."

[Name] simply shook their head. "I'm fine as I am. I really really am."

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It was almost 3 weeks later when [Name] got a knock on the door to their bedroom.

With a call for them to enter, [Name] put down the book they were reading onto their desk and directed their attention to the door as Childe, Ayato, Venti and Zhongli walked in, closely followed by Jean. [Name] knew this wasn't going to be good.

"Well good morning to you all as well… to what do I owe this meeting?" They asked after a long stretch of silence.

More silence filled the room until Childe broke it, a stack of papers that [Name] realized was in his hand was plopped down in front of them at their desk and [Name] looked at the papers in confusion. "What's this?"

The group looked between each other before Jean spoke up. "Adoption paperwork."

[Name] could only facepalm.

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There was nothing stopping me and my found family loving heart had to. I'll probably expand on this idea further once I have brain power if y'all don't hate it.

@sayomiikaye @eccedentesiast-sapphic (this is part of the being tagged in random headcanons/ideas stuff but if you'd like me to not tag you in this kind of non-canon content, please do let me know.)

#genshin x reader #sagau #genshin impact x reader #sagau cult au #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin x teen

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