#*project aether | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jar-of-maise · 9 months

Text

"Um Lyney," Paimon began, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Oh? It isn't like you to be so shy, please go on, what's on your mind?" Lyney asked, looking up at her curiously.

Paimon looked at Aether anxiously, then floated a little closer to him, shedding sparkles as she flew, "well, some of the kids were telling us about how you tell them about fairytales..." She begins.

"Ah!" Lyney snaps his fingers, "are you here to ask me to tell you some stories? Well why didn't you say so?" He hops up easily, gracefully revealing several embossed hardcover books which fall out of his hat.

"Take a pick! There are many here, don't be shy," Lyney says cheerfully, showing the books off happily, "this one is a personal favourite," he winks at Aether.

The cover is of a golden-haired prince, drawing a sword from his sheath, sparkles dance around his figure. White armour adorns his strong figure. "It's a pretty cover...but," Paimon begins, raising a finger.

Lyney raises his eyebrows, "oh? Not to your taste? That's alright," he twirls the book around on his fingers, then tosses it up in the air, where it disappears after a sharp snap of his fingers.

"How about this one? It's about a mermaid and her journey to the human world," Lyney offers, smiling at Paimon and Aether as he shows them the book.

"Well, they're all very nice but–" Paimon tries again.

"Goodness! Have you always driven such a hard bargain?" Lyney asks comically, shaking his head, the books tumble down from his hands as he sighs in defeat.

"Lyney." Lynette says with a deadpan look on her face, "they probably want you to tell them a specific story."

"Yeah!" Paimon exclaims, "thank you Lynette!"

"No worries," Lynette says, crossing her arms and nodding, "my brother does have a habit of talking too much," she says, tail swishing side to side.

"Hey! I'm still here you know!" Lyney cries.

Lynettte fixes him with a very exasperated glare, "I know."

"Oh Lynette, how could you be so cruel to your dear brother?" Lyney whines, slumping, a few cards slipping out from underneath his hat. They fall sadly onto the ground, like limp autumn leaves.

"Um..." Aether begins, "we were hoping to hear about the story you created for the kids here," he says hopefully.

"The story...I made?" Lyney asks, perking up, "you want to hear my stories?" He asks in a tone so innocent that Aether can't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Yeah! Of course we do, you're a great storyteller Lyney!" Paimon cheers, "yeah!" Aether agrees, nodding vigorously.

"Well then," Lyney gathers his cards in one sweeping motion, shoving them back into his hat, "I can't disappoint my audience then, can I? Please take a seat, the show will be put on momentarily." Lyney grins, gesturing at the table in front of them.

"Please help yourself," Lynette says in a monotone voice as Paimon and Aether slid into their seats. She places her hat onto the table, and once she removes it, trays and plates of snacks appear magically.

"Wow! Thank you! Paimon's digging in then!"

Lynette nods, satisfied, she pours herself a cup of tea and takes a long sip from her cup.

"So Lyney," Paimon says to the magician, who's mumbling to himself as they help themselves.

"Hm? What's up?" Lyney asks curiously.

"The children here said that this story was called, 'The Thief's Hope' but, they also said that it has a sad ending," Paimon comments, "is that true?"

"Ah, you want to hear that story," Lyney says, there's an unreadable expression on his face, "well I wouldn't say it's that sad, uh, it's just not your typical fairytale."

"Yet the kids still love this story," Aether says, watching as Lyney puffs out his cheeks in slight disagreement.

"Yeah I don't really know why," Lyney laughs, slumping onto a nearby couch with a poof!

"Hey, at least that means you're a good story teller!" Paimon says comfortingly, nibbling on a cupcake as she talks.

"Perhaps," Lyney looks at Aether, then at Lynette. His eyes are wistful as he gazes at his hands silently. Outside, the rain was pouring ceaselessly. A cold wind brushed by and the water rapped on the windows. Lyney thought for a long time, then he just sighed fondly, fingers tracing a seam on his shorts before smiling brightly at Aether and Paimon.

“Alright! Let me tell you the story!” He jumps up from the chair and bows deeply, “Lynette, if you would please,” he bows towards his sister who sighs, “fine," she says.

Lynette snaps her fingers and just like magic, a large backdrop appears behind Lyney, Paimon gasps in surprise and Aether leans forward curiously. It’s a depiction of the Fontaine streets, and the desolate piece of artwork is crafted with life-like accuracy.

“Allow me to take you back in time,” Lyney steps forth, a hand tucked behind his back as he twirls his hat on his fingers.

“There once lived a young boy, he was very poor and often worried about when his next meal would come by,” Lyney snapped his fingers and a little doll fell down from somewhere above his head, it was neatly stitched together, yet dirty and battered as though it had been abused and never loved.

Lyney smiled and nodded at Lynette who waved her hand. A spotlight shone onto the makeshift “stage” focusing on the tiny doll who picked himself up and began to walk around.

“He was often bullied, looked down upon and slowly, he found himself pushed to the darkest streets, where the light did not fall,” as he spoke, Lyney flicked his fingers, they appeared as dark, long shadows on the harsh light of the backdrop and the doll was flung away.

“But he never forgot what being in the light felt like,” Lyney’s voice echoed from somewhere, like a omnipresent narrator. As he spoke, the little doll picked itself up and began to stumble slowly towards the audience, “he longed to go back, there was a hole in his heart that he wanted to fill. A void that was as dark as the night sky.”

The inky blackness that suddenly filled the stage was so desperate and suffocating that Paimon audibly gasped. No light shone, indeed, it seemed as though even the oxygen was being removed from their lungs. Aether wondered if this too, was a part of the magic.

"He tried to fill his heart with the scraps that littered the streets," Lyney's voice began to speak again, "he hoarded those little things zealously, even they had no love for him and he had no love for them."

A small pinprick of light appeared on the stage and focused on Lyney's figure, he stood in the centre, with a grave expression on his face.

"His fingers were nimble and his feet too, were agile," Lyney smiled, a small doll appearing on his hand.

"He took the memories and love of others, he tried to light up the darkness in his heart with the light and warmth of others." Lyney procured a candle, "but he could not chase away the cold in his heart, nor could he brighten any corner of that room, for it was locked!"

Lynette grimanced into her cup, but begrudgingly waved her hand. The flame of the candle died out as she waved her hand and Lyney smiled widely.

"How should I light up this dark heart?" Lyney walked across the stage, making a thoughtful expression, "Ah! The boy realised something, when he was wandering the streets one day!"

Lyney smiles, carefully placing the doll down, "people crave the unknown, they are fascinated by fantasy…and what better way to achieve that than–” a sudden burst of streamers erupted from behind his back, “magic?”

The backdrop changed, it was a light and happy scene, where the doll reappeared, looking much cleaner and put together, the doll was surrounded by other dolls, they were smiling at him.

"If I can't love myself...and I can't take it from others, what if I made them give it to me? That was what the thief thought," Lyney grinned, blowing a shower of confetti hearts at his audience.

Aether smiled slightly when some of the paper brushed his cheek.

"So he began to try and perform, with the few skills he had learned from stealing. No matter how he tried to mask his true self, this boy was a thief," Lyney pointed at the heinous doll with an accusatory finger.

"The truth was that he was a thief, and that all his story-truths were lies." Lyney declared.

Aether and Paimon smiled knowingly, Lynette helped herself to a muffin. She was enjoying the chance to enjoy as many treats as she could.

“So the thief had finally found something that could fill up his empty heart," Lyney kept talking, "but still, the feeling of emptiness persisted. So he kept performing, kept going, just to chase that feeing," butterflies flew out from Lyney's finger tips as he spoke.

“The treacherous thief lied his way to the top. He tricked people ceaselessly, putting on a show that the masses would love. Lies were piled up on falsehoods. The thief could no longer return to the shadows of his past."

Lyney made a shape with him fingers where the light reflected it's shadow onto the backdrop, "The Thief looked down at the world from on top of the tower he’d built. It was exquisitely crafted, held together by fabricated illusions. He was a sinner, a devil who’d escaped from hell who was undeserving of the light he had gained."

Aether's eyes narrowed slightly, he sipped some tea but listened attentively, Lyney noticed this change, smiling to himself he thought, 'ah he gets it.'

Lyney kept talking, "Like a famous actor, the parts that he had to play continued to increase. People’s lives were entrusted to his hands at night, and in the daytime, he stole people’s hearts. He had never been bested and life itself, was the stage for his craft.

He sat under the night sky one lonely evening, gazing out into the inky darkness. The thief looked at the stars, they had always sparkled so beautifully, untouched by pain or sorrow. He wanted that light, even though he knew he could never emulate that gentle radiance.

That was when he met her,” Lyney’s voice took on a reminiscing tone and suddenly Aether was seized by a strange thought, was this just a mere story? He had no time to ponder this question, because Lyney was moving onto the next part of the story.

”Who was she?" Lyney wondered aloud, "well, perhaps she could be described like a burst of sunlight in a cold, frosty winter, or a wonderful flower blossoming in a wasteland...but no," he paused, "she was more than just those."

"She was the steady roll of waves on the ocean, she was the star that never left the night sky," it seemed like Lyney had forgotten his magic in that moment. He stood before them, as a performer still, but Aether realised that this was not only a story, but a reflection of Lyney himself.

"She was not words, she was a feeling," Lyney almost whispered to himself. Yet in the breathless silence that beheld the room, he may as well have shouted those words. Upon beholding this vulnerable side of Lyney, Aether couldn't help but smile sadly.

"The Thief was a certain kind of summertime sadness, one that spring couldn't cure," Lyney said slowly, withered petals falling with every step he took backward, away from the audience.

"He had no words that could describe her, for all the stories The Thief had spun, all the lies he'd said, there was no word he knew that could speak about the truth in her. But The Thief liked to call her mon armour," Lyney smiled bitterly, there was a hatred in the way he uttered those words.

Aether was taken back, but he didn't know why Lyney seemed to dislike those last few words so much.

"Her presence was gentle, yet searing. To The Thief who couldn't remember hugs or caresses, her touches was an uncomfortable, addicting burn."

Sitting in the audience, Lynette looked at her reflection in her cup sadly. This, was his way of atoning for lies, by weaving truths into his stories so that he might not spin falsehoods. She knew Lyney better than anyone else, to most this was obvious, but they didn't know about the hopes of her older brother. Past his light, and his shadow, was a young boy who loved to love and be loved.

That, was also a kind of truth.

"This Thief," Lyney murmured, "he was a haunted house, hollow from inside to out, plagued by a restless soul that was more focused on destroying the construct that kept it existing than anything else. Every now and then, a wind would rush through and open half-closed, weeping wounds.

The people who sojourned in this house did not help the soul, they loved only the mystery, the romance, the unattainable nature of his performance. And often left the house shabbier than when they first entered.

But not mon armour, she came in, like a little ghost. Planting purple wisteria in his mind, with wonderful trees that entwined their roots around the house and bound him to the earth. Camomile grew from his scars, moss and dewdrops patched his wounds.

She planted gardens of lavender in his mind, so that his anxiety might be soothed.

If there was anyone that might make him feel like life was worth living on, it would be her. A gentle love, that didn't demand. How funny, The Thief had never once known how to care, he did not think about the emotion itself. Never committed." Lyney nodded, though Aether didn't know if he was talking to himself or his audience.

"Yet he tried, loving was clumsy. He couldn't make sense of the lines he was meant to colour inside and often scribbled outside of those boundaries. But at least, he was less transient, and more of a home now." Lyney drifted off into his own thoughts, "my love, what a wonderful name, if only..."

Aether lets him mumble to himself, Paimon also floats over to him with a soft, melancholic smile. "Poor Lyney..." she says quietly, "the story must mean a lot to him."

"I think there was a bit more than just that," Aether comments, but refrains from saying some of his other thoughts, knowing Paimon would just freak out.

"My brother finds it hard to express himself," Lynette chips in, "thank you for listening to him," she bows her head.

"It's okay, please tell him that we'd listen to him anytime!" Paimon exclaims waving her hands.

"Thank you, I will."

"I know you're not much of a talker, but we'll also listen to you, if you need it," Aether says, smiling brightly at Lynette, who gives him a little smile in response.

"I will cherish that offer." She says, "honestly," she adds, looking at Lyney with a half-endearing, half-fond and equal parts exasperated expression, "for someone who insists he's unlovable, loving sure comes easily to him."

"He has a lot to give," Aether says kindly, Lyney is quiet, a broken piece of cermanic-ware, so fractured yet so well patched up he looks new. Aether is glad he has something to hope for.

"Lyney loves like he breathes but treats it like it's cancer," Lynette replies, "when he first realised he was infatuated he said he got a heart stroke. Yet if loving really was a disease, he'd hope he'd never recover from his illness" Lynette takes a sip of tea and rolls her eyes gracefully. "In that sense, he's utterly hopeless,"

240 notes · View notes

sovaghoul · 1 month

Text

What if instead of pining for Aether while away on tour, Dew broke off their relationship so he could focus and not feel muddled and tortured by those emotions. And during the time apart, he naturally grew away from Aether and felt this was a wise decision, to be single and open to other experiences. Meanwhile, what if Aether tried to be strong and wait, hoping to welcome Dew back, not only to the Ministry but into his heart. And then Dew came home, but not to him. And that's when Aether threw himself into the Pit.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dew ghoul #dewther #i'm not projecting my feelings and anxieties not at all no never

67 notes · View notes

nuumbie · 11 days

Text

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak-- he would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move.

And that day would never come. It would haunt him forever until he’s become so numb to everything.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky. The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s looking for somewhere to go. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. He acknowledges. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking. Not really. “You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed.

He thinks about it.

And he has nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands.

And so you both go on a journey. People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops. And he’s glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but something else.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh, that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see.”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So, he instead directs it towards you.

“You should do it, then.” He offers the coin to you. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Dumbly, you take it. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain.

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living.

The joy they experience is vibrant. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of memories that are turned into reasons. He wonders what those colors mean to you? He wonders what goes on in your head.

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of light.

"We don't belong in this world." Is the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children goodbye— wishing them happy lives.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with you both as well.

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop. You plan on camping that night. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So, he hadn’t stopped you.

You reach your hands towards a bright sky.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he really tried.

He doesn’t bother. He sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. He feels like a bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. They won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you— and, making a move, for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant.

You glance up at him, wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's often that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddness. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your arms. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track. Do you?

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

So maybe you are. It explains why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. A little too closely but you don’t seem to mind. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse, few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this later. He comforts you now and answers regardless.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Who would expect that? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

He knows that it isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing.

You both never purposefully kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one — a deep sadness falls over you. So, he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden,

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time.

Your light has dimmed. This world is killing you.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know.”

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues. Despite the voice in his head. Telling him it likely isn’t right.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you could just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

“I want to see you achieve your own happiness. If I could be there till your end. I would.”

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then, the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You’re already painfully familiar.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally grieve. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will die. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown so deep.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him into the abyss. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly held. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #🗑️ trash writes #x reader #finally the holy trinity is completed #i’m sorry this is all based on the line where he talks about saving #dainsleif canonically goes ‘i can fix them’. he can’t. 😭😭😭#technically can be read as Dain Aether or Dain lumi #but they’re self inserts for a reason… let me project #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader

60 notes · View notes

puppsworld · 1 month

Text

trans ifrit hc that one time before a show he was getting dressed and his binder got rolled up in the back and he couldn't pull it down.

he got all freaked out and aether had to come over and help him

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #ifrit ghoul #ifrit ghost #aether ghoul #aether ghost #totally not projecting for this one.... haha..... nooo..... never............

61 notes · View notes

wrathofrats · 29 days

Text

Day 11- long distance- Swiss and aether

Thanks to @forlorn-crows as always 🫶

Tensions rise on tour, Swiss calls aether to try and make it better.

“Hello?”

Aether answered the phone in a groggy tone. Swiss cringed at the sleepiness in his voice, rough as if he had just woken up. The time difference tended to escape him whenever he missed aether and sunny and picked up the phone to contact them, but neither minded. They were always happy to hear his voice.

“Aether? Did I wake you?” Swiss practically whispered. It was an unconscious attempt to not overwhelm him if he had actually woken him up, hoping the gentle tone could coax him out of being tired.

“Don’t worry about it, what’s up?”

Aether could hear the anxiety in Swiss’ voice. He could picture him picking at his nails and fiddling with whatever blanket was on his lap. He had always been a nervous fidgeter, one of his main tells that something was wrong.

“Well nothings wrong per say- it’s not an emergency but-“

“Swiss, tell me” aether cut him off

“How do you do it? How do you make every situation better?” There was a solemn air to the question. Aether knew Swiss well. Aether knew that something had happened and Swiss wasn’t handling it well. The pack could tend to be a lot sometimes, they all loved each other but conflict could sometimes be hard to tackle. Rain tended to retreat instead of handling issues, dew tended to blow up without thinking before he acted, cumulus got overwhelmed easily, and cirrus usually shut down, equipped with sharp sour words to ward off others.

It was always aether and mountain who would have to handle things if they got out of hand, a calming presence to drag everyone back and figure out a solution. Swiss could do this, but as much as he seemed like a more forceful figure, he was a people pleaser at heart. A pushover in the worst cases.

“Did something happen?”

Aether assumed there would be mild problems now that he and Sunny had been replaced with phantom and Aurora. Both were sweet ghouls, a little rowdy, but knew what they were doing. There hadn’t been any changes in a long time, not since ifrit and zephyr retired.

Dew had always taken it the hardest, the transition and ifrit stepping down made dew practically shut down inside. Quiet and harsh with his words for the first leg of that tour. He had processed and gotten better after a while, especially with aethers help.

But now that aether wasn’t there, there was question on how he would handle having phantom around in replace of him.

“Not exactly, it’s just been …… tense, to say the least” Swiss sighed, “nothing feels right. No one seems like themselves.”

“It’ll get better, everyone just needs time”

“No, I know, but I feel like I should be able to do something. If you were here you probably would have by now.”

Aether sighs, an ache in his heart for how hopeless Swiss sounds. There’s no solution, there’s always some kind of tension on tour. Living in a bus with even those you love the most will create problems after a while.

“It’s not your fault stardust”

“Well no, but mountain can usually have everyone happy again with a bit of time, but it shouldn’t be solely his responsibility”

“The fact that you care so much is all you need to do, you can only be you, you can’t be me. And we love you for you only”

“I know, I just-“

“I’m proud of you. You’re doing fantastic. They don’t need another aether, they need you right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you know how often I miss you guys and I look at your smile in photos and it makes me feel better?”

“You do?”

“You’re doing the best you can. You’re our stardust, remember? It’ll be ok”

“I love you aeth”

“Love you swiss”

#@ghuleh-recs for divider!#do you guys know how important Swiss and aether are to me #is it obvious #mushy may #don’t read too much into how much I project onto Swiss #it’s fine #don’t worry #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #swiss ghoul #aether ghoul #mushy may 2024

62 notes · View notes

cosmiciaria · 3 months

Text

I get to share this comm I did for the 17th Shard!! I'm so happy with it and the opportunity they gave me. These are the aethers from the planet Lumar, in which Tress of the Emerald Sea takes place. Six of them are visible, the other six not so much o.o

Hope you like them as much as I enjoyed the process! I believe I'm the first Argentinian artist commissioned by the 17th Shard, and that makes me extremely proud and happy!

#cosmere #brandon sanderson #tress of the emerald sea #17th shard #aethers #lumar #rafo #secret project 1

79 notes · View notes

nameless-ghoul-trash · 9 months

Text

Sodo x F!Ghoul!Reader Pt.2

As requested, here is part 2 for my Sodo x Ghoul Reader. It's my first full smut, but I hope it meets your expectations!

MINOR DNI

Word count: 1.2k

Lightly proofread

Warnings: P in V, fingers, oral female receiving, degradation, slight praise. (If I missed any, let me know)

Part 1

------

The moment the door to Sodo's room closed, he pushed you against the wall. His lips landed on yours as his body presses into you. Slotting his leg between your thighs, the feeling his throbbing erection sends shivers down your spine. The fire low in your stomach grows with every touch, kiss, and sound. Growling Sodo grinds into you, his knee catching on all the right places. "You're always such a brat. Always so naughty." Kissing his way from your jaw to your caller bone, you turn your head to the side to give him better access. Grabbing you, he swung around and pushed you on the bed. "Strip." He demands taking his own clothes off. You happily do as you're told, but you're taking your time. Slowly bringing the hem of your shirt up, you lock eyes with him. Finally, bring it over your head. You let it fall to the ground. Then you go for your bra.

Once your top half is bare, you reach down to work on your bottom half. With an impatient rumble, he loops his fingers into your waistband and pulls off your pants and underwear. Throwing your legs over his shoulders he lowers himself, bring his face to your exposed pussy. "Look at you so wet for me already." He drags a finger down yours slick, and brings it to his mouth.

Sucking his finger clean, he held eye contact. Pulling his hand away from his face, he uses it to push you thighs open further and brings his face closer. Running his split tongue over your clit causing you inhale sharply and arch your back. He pulled away. "You want more of that." He taunted. "Yes!" You nod, tail thuding on the mattress. Flicking your clit again, he taunts you. "How bad?" "So bad. Please. Please. Please!" You sounded so needy. You were so fucking turned on and sensitive. Reaching down you intertwined your fingers in his long hair, griping his right horn with one hand. You use your grip to pull his face closer as you thrust up, needing the feeling of him giving your clit his undivided attention. Slowly he wraps his arms around your thighs and pressed his hands to you hips effectivly holding you down.

"You've been such a naughty girl, tho. Naughty little slut. Giving me such a hard time. All the sass and sarcasm. The insults." His voice had a teasing tone in it. "Maybe I should just take what I want, leave you wanting. Leave you to think about your actions." At the last word he blows on your clit. You give a drawn out whine. "Please! Please, I need you!" You beg. Growling he finally began his assault on you aching pussy. Moaning at the sensation you tighten your grip on his hair.

Drawing one of his hands lower, he replaced his tongue with his thumb and proceeded to tongue fuck you. The feeling of his ghoulishly long slipt tongue abusing your hole had your mind going blank, ripping a series of moan from you. The coil in the pit of your stomach begins to tighten. As he goes down on you like a man starved you can feel yourself getting close. Arching your back as that coil begins to come undone, the sensation stops. Let's out an unceremonious whine, your tail thuds on the bed, clearly irritated with the loss. Looking back at him, he smirks. Unraveling your hands from his hair you bring your fingers to your pussy to try and finish the job. Before you can make contact he grips your wrist. "Only good girls get to cum." Standings, he brings his free hand to his cock, giving it a few lazily strokes. "Get on your hands and knees." He let go of your wrist and motioned for you to move.

Flipping around, you settle with your ass in the air. Grabbing a hole of both ass cheeks, he spreads your lips with his thumbs and runs one through the ever growing pool of arousal. "Such a little slut. Your dripping wet." The sound you let out only fuel the fire. Pushing two long fingers in he sets a small pace, scissoring every few strokes. "You going to let me fuck you rough like a good girl?" He produces a low rumble deep in his chest when you moan out a needy yes. He hastily removed his fingers from you. Rubbing the slick on the tip of his cock he lines himself up, keepingone handon your hip. In one fluid motion he drives into you, giving little time to adjust to his size.

You both let out a moan as he bottomed out. "Take this cock so good." Pulling almost all the way out he slams back into you setting a brutal pace. Reaching he grabs ahold of your shoulder, fingers curling lightly around your throat. Using this new found leverage he drills in to you harder. Your tail wraps tightly around his forearm. "So good. Feels so good." You could barely get the words out, so taken by the sense of him abusing your pussy. You are startled by the flat of Sodos tail rubbing aggressive circles on your neglected clit. More unintelligible word spill from your mouth mixed with heavy moans. The tight coil slowly begins to return.

Sodo groans when your walls clinch around him. "You little whore. You love my cock deep inside you." Keeping his pace he pushes your shoulders down so your face is in the mattress. The new angle causing him to hit that sweet spot inside you. "Right there! Keep going! Please! Please! Please! Please! Don't stop!" You plead to him, moans racking your body. "You going to be a good girl for me?" He taunts. "Yes! Yes I'll be good! I'll be so good!" You cry out, the coil tight and ready to snap. He let's out a pleased grumble. After a few more thrust the coil snaps. A sob tears through you, your body trembling. Moaning he doesn't slow down working you through your orgasm. "That's it. Good girl." His thrusts begin to get sloppy and his breath uneven. With a low groan he comes to a full stop, filling your pussy with his cum.

You unravel your tail from his arm, allowing him to let you go. Getting up, Sodo made his way to the bathroom attached to his room. You slide into the bed, staying face down. Sodo returning a minute or two later with a warm wash cloth walks back over to you. He had already taken care of himself. "Here, let me clean you up." His voice was soft. Rolling onto your side, you basked in his gentle touches. "How do you feel? Do you need anything?" His asked. "I feel good, tired, but good." You give him a faint smile. "Can I stay here tonight?" You look away a little anxious. You had never stayed in any room but your own, and you half expected him to say no. "Of course you can!" You look to see him smiling.

He pulled back the covers and motioned for you to get under. Quickly doing so, you make yourself comfortable.

------

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this. As always, I appreciate any feedback! Requests are open! Nobody asked for it, but here's a picture of Sodo!

179 notes · View notes

coffeeghoulie · 6 months

Text

I was thinking about the hockey au and what I was going to write before swissdew hair pulling kicked down a door in my brain, and it's been a slow day at work, so here's what I thought five minutes for fighting was going to be:

@askingforthesun @nocturnalghoul @forlorn-crows this might be of interest to you guys lol

"Stubborn mother-" Dew hisses, trying desperately to work a knot out of his hair. He's been growing it out, and the cornsilk strands just barely touch the tops of his shoulders, dripping with water after a quick rinse in the showers. His helmet sits to the side, dressed in just his compression shirt and shorts, the rest of his gear put away. Dew's eyes water as the knot persists, tugging painfully on his scalp as he combs his fingers through his hair.

He's the only one in the locker room, the rest of his teammates changed and ready to go after a particularly grueling practice. It's late, and despite being a night owl himself, Dew wants nothing more than to go home and curl up in his apartment. But he can't, not willing to go until he gets his hair somewhat presentable.

"Dew? You're still here?" A voice echoes around the locker room, and Dew snaps to face the door. One of the new defensemen sticks his head into the locker room, and Dew recognizes him, knows him, and his shoulders relax, tense posture easing a little.

"Hey, Aeth," Dew sighs. He's known Aether since they were both in the minor leagues, and Aether had been brought up to the Ghouls this season following Omega's last knee injury. "Yeah, I'm still here."

Aether steps into the locker room, sitting down next to Dew on the bench. "You having trouble with that?"

Dew huffs, yelping as he tugs fruitlessly on the knot. "Yeah," he admits. He rubs at his eyes, trying to hide the evidence of his tears. "This sucks."

Aether laughs, a warm sound that eases some of the frustration in his chest. "Yeah, I get it. Helmet hair sucks ass to untangle."

Dew narrows his eyes at Aether's close cropped sides, the slightly longer curl of his mohawk. "You don't have room to talk."

"True," he nods, laughing again. "I've never had it that bad, but my siblings played when we were kids. Well, both my little siblings played, but my brother's never had long hair. Rory ran crying to our mother every time she tried to brush through it after practice."

"Didn't know you had siblings," Dew says quietly. Aether shrugs.

"Haven't seen them in a while," he says. "I go home for holidays, if there aren't any games that week but really, we were never that close except for hockey. I love them, I do, but we all play. They're both still in the minors."

Dew nods, still working at the knot. He growls, stubborn and frustrated.

"Let me help?" Aether offers, reaching out but not quite touching Dew's wrist. "After a while, Mom got sick of fixing Rory's hair, and I learned how."

His posture breaks, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Please."

Aether leans forward, carefully taking Dew's hands from his hair and replacing them with his own. He hums as he works, some slightly off-key tune that's familiar but Dew can't place. His fingers gently work at the knot, some magic touch untangling the strands.

They sit there for several minutes, until Aether pats Dew on the shoulder. "There, it should be all good."

Dew runs an experimental hand through his hair, laughing when his fingers don't catch on any tangles. "Thank you, Aeth," he says, leaning his head on the defenseman's shoulder. "Thought I was gonna have to be here all night."

Aether chuckles, leaning into Dew.. "Have you ever grown your hair out long before, Dew?'

"No, first time," he answers.

Aether hums, questioning. "Could I braid your hair?" He asks. "Rory had me braid it until she learned how to do it herself. It helped with the helmet hair."

Dew thinks for a moment, glancing at Aether's earnest expression out of the corner of his eye. He takes a deep breath through his nose, exhausted to his core. Their coach had run them hard tonight. He nods.

"Alright then," Aether says, matter-of-fact. He takes Dew by the shoulders, gently encouraging him to straddle the bench, swinging his own leg over the bench as he settles behind him.

It's quiet work, Dew letting his eyes shut as Aether braids his shower-damp hair, his fingers parting and separating his hair, starting to braid. Aether starts humming again, and Dew fights the urge to fall asleep, here on the locker room bench. He'd fall over, at best embarrassing himself in front of one of his friends, at worse concussing himself and getting himself on the injured reserves.

After a moment, Aether's collected all of Dew's hair into the braid, just weaving the sections until it's too short to continue. He curses under his breath. "Shit. Don't have a hair tie. Didn't think about that."

"I've got one somewhere in my bag," Dew says, leaning forward carefully to grab his go bag, rummaging around until he finds an elastic, handing it back to Aether.

He murmurs his thanks, tying off the braid. Dew runs his hand over it, feeling his slightly out of practice but still neat handiwork.

"Thank you, Aeth," Dew says, turning so he's sitting normally on the bench.

"Any time," Aether responds, his hand resting on Dew's shoulder. "Next game, do you want me to braid your hair?"

"That'd be nice. Don't want to make a habit of it though. I'll learn how to do it."

Aether laughs kindly, grinning as Dew finishes changing into his normal clothes. "I will happily braid your hair as long as you'd like, Dewey."

Dew slings his go bag over his shoulder, reaching for Aether's hand as he leads them out of the locker room. "I'll take you up on that, Aeth."

#also i'm projecting just a lil on aether but i don't think i've ever written a fic that i didn't project onto one of the characters so yeah #hockey au #dot's writing #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #the beginnings of aether/dewdrop

91 notes · View notes

the-moon-in-the-gutter · 6 months

Text

Thinking about there being a wing of the abbey for the retired ghouls, to live out a semi-peaceful life. Some of the retired ghouls, especially the Era 1 and 2 ghouls being rather reclusive.

But in specific there is a gorgeous sunroom in this wing, a grand piano placed in the center of the room. Luxurious, soft couches and chairs scattered about the room. It's a place you go for a retreat. Omega can be found in the sunroom on clear nights, watching the stars dance across the sky in an all too familiar way. Since Aether's retirement, he can be found alongside Omega when it's too cold or wet for the ghoul to sit out at night.

Zephyr frequents the sunroom during the day, the warmth of the sun easing his joints. Sat at the piano, playing a melody that has crept into his mind from a millennium ago. The slight humidity of the room means the piano doesn't keep tune quite well, but he nor the other ghouls seem to mind. Playing is the one thing Zephyr is able to do to keep himself sane, when all other hobbies or activities are not accessible to him. He plays many nights, when the pain is too great to sleep but not terrible enough to lay awake in bed.

It's almost a right of passage for a newly summoned ghoul to stumble upon the wing at night, the sound of piano music drawing them closer and closer. When Phantom was summoned, he spent weeks sitting outside of the sunroom just listening each night. It was something he could always count on, the soothing melodies from years past floating on the air. Another ghoul speaking quietly, almost like a prayer. It would be months before Phantom realized the ghouls he had come to spend his nights eavesdropping on were Zephyr and Omega.

#also like i hc zephyr being like head over heels for omega idk why maybr its me projecting bc i adore omega #the band ghost #phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #omega ghoul #zephyr ghoul #pleione writes

80 notes · View notes

zgatotoon · 5 months

Text

Squish

Is the first time I have drawn Scaramouche so just.. yeah and The context, bc there's context, is that yesterday I was playing with my friend in cop and I had my Tsukasa plush along. Thats it.

#tsukasa tenma #tsukasa project sekai #aether #aether genshin impact #wanderer genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #traveler genshin impact #genshin impact #doodle

459 notes · View notes

the-gayest-sky-kid · 8 months

Note

what's your take on odasaku and dazai's idealization of him?

also any takes you want to share about bsd/bsd in general?

(If you don't mind, I'm also interested in your thoughts about verlaine if thats ok 😭) tyty

who's your fave bsd character and whose the character from bsd you want to have more screen time?

i think its another case of projecting onto someone and it fucking things up. like notably how kouyou projects her own feelings abt light & dark onto kyouka. we just dont often see it that way because what oda does is like. stereotypically good? he uses his dying words to push a friend out of the dark. a death motivating others to act and furthering their character development is classic storytelling. you go into bsd knowing dazai is on the "good guys" side (not that the ada are "bad" but obviously reading bsd as a good guys vs bad guys story is. wrong), so clearly it worked out. so you kind of overlook the surrounding events yk? plus dazais own idolization of oda hammers that in. dazai tells atsushi that "He was a friend of mine (...) He’s the reason I quit the Port Mafia and joined the agency. I’d probably still be killing people for the mafia if it wasn’t for him" in dead apple (the lightnovel. im not going to go through pulling up the movie for this fhfhtndj). and so aside from previous bias people are going to take what dazai says at face value. hes thankful oda showed him the "side that saves people" and of course we're going to agree with that. the thing is. again. projection. now i havent actually finished dark era (i am working through it) but a lot of the time it feels like oda is just shoveling off all his feelings about being "someone meant for the darkness" onto dazai when thats something thats not going to be true for. well. anyone really? and his final conversation with dazai is very influenced by that. he says "You told me if you put yourself in a world of violence and bloodshed, you might be able to find a reason to live... (...) You won’t find it (...) You should know that. Whether you’re on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity". now the thing is this is kind of a fucked up thing to say to an 18 year old with suicidal tendencies, but odas view of dazai makes it seem like a well needed wake up call. he obviously had good intentions. hes trying to "step into that solitude" but because of his flawed view of dazai he kind of. stumbles. dazai up to this point has been clinging onto the hope that he'd find a reason to live by observing the entire human experience. now oda comes along and dazai thinks hes found someone who understands him better than anyone, and oda tells him hes not going to find that. ever. so he should become a better person and make the world a good place. and also he's dying. so dazai, as we've seen, takes these words to heart. so hes not going to find a reason to live but he should also make the world a better place. good cool got that. so i think he gets a bit too comfortable being collateral for a good cause. and hes already convinced hes not going to find anything here, so of course hes not going to find anything. does that make sense.

i dont think ive phrased anything correctly here but like anyway i think with all his other friends around he'll be able to sort things out there. i cant see bsd ending without any sort of resolution for him in this regard yk.

#i cant say much on verlaine since ive read barely anything of stormbringer #like up to meeting shirase i think #flags death just fucked with me #from what i know hes also got projection issues. very common bsd theme #as for my favorite character... well you all dont know this but my favorite is actually Dazai #big shocker ik #as for screentime like..idk i miss everyone #i just want normal agency bullshit back #actually ykw i desperately want to see ranpo kyouka and atsushi as a trio #ranpos weird little siblings sweep gogogogogogo #aethers asks #swearing cw #longer post #anyway anyway anyway take this all with like 3 tablespoons of salt #i obviously havent read or watched as much bsd as i should have to be making these takes fhdhhsjs

86 notes · View notes

dewdrops-whammy-bar · 1 month

Text

Dew's Tattoos

My headcanon about Dewdrop and his tattoos! Warning for mention of needles, extremely unsanitary tattoo practice, and some elemental transition related body horror.

Dew has a bunch of stick-and-poke tattoos. He started doing them when he was still a water ghoul, using the end of a broken guitar string and a pen he’d chewed open. They were tiny at first- little stars, frowny faces with x-ed out eyes, and a Satanic cross, all on his upper thighs. They all faded in months, so Dew just tattooed new designs over them. His tools got a little better, he was using a sewing pin sterilized with a lighter and some calligraphy ink he’d stolen from the library. He slowly started to get better, his lines got steadier, and he even started sketching up designs rather than freehanding them.

Then his elemental transition happened. The process was excruciating- his body had to remake itself from the ground up. His fins necrotized and fell off and his coral-like horns grew brittle and crumbled away. His gills stung and itched as they sealed shut. He wanted this, had always felt off regarding his element of water, but he almost thought it wasn’t worth it. He kept telling himself it would be over soon but it just kept going.

It took six months for the transformation to be complete. When Dew was finally able to look in the mirror, he saw himself. It was freeing. The only thing he missed from his old body was the tattoos. Somewhere through the process of growing new flesh, the ink had disappeared. He mourned them- they were symbols of his growth and something that made his body uniquely his.

Dew started tattooing himself again, this time with slightly better tools. He used some sterile needles he’d swiped from the infirmary and managed to get his hands on some real tattoo ink. His designs started on his thighs, but moved to his arms, stomach, hips, and lower down his legs. His packmates watched him grow more comfortable in his new form as ink spread across his body.

However, Aether was horrified when Dew described his process the first time. He then gave him an hour-long lecture on sterilization and infections. Dew pointed out that it was very unlikely for ghouls to get wound infections while Topside but Aether insisted that Dew take the proper precautions when tattooing himself in the future, including doing it in the infirmary where it was cleaner. Dew agreed and ordered some proper equipment.

After a while, Aether let Dew tattoo something onto him- his favorite constellation, Ursa Major, in white ink on his wrist. Once healed, it became Dew’s favorite spot to kiss. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but the sight of his own art- even just a simple design- on his mate’s body makes him ridiculously happy. When Aether got top surgery, Dew tattooed more constellations along the scars. He also tattooed his own scars with flame designs.

He’s got some tattoos that are professionally done (mostly on his back, where he can’t reach) that he got on tour, but most of them are done himself.

#Totally not projecting here #*hides my self-done stick and poke tattoos* no projection here nope #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #ghoul headcanons #wham writing #aether ghoul #dewther #transmasc aether #transmasc dewdrop #tattoo headcanons

50 notes · View notes

eros-ghoulette · 4 months

Text

But maybe, just maybe

Copia has a bad day and his ghouls want to help.

Characters: Copia, Swiss, Aether, Dewdrop Word count: 1275

It was not that Copia did not enjoy being who he was. There were days when he stood in front of his mirror, feeling confident; feeling attractive. Hell, he was Papa now, he was a leader, he had no time to have self-doubts. And still, it was hard to leave old habits behind. Today was one of those days, he woke up and felt different. He slept in an old Bowie shirt - his favourite, as Terzo bought it as a gift for him - and boxers. The look in the mirror was a mistake. His hair was messy, his tummy showing under his shirt, the curves unmistakable. The love handles he was usually proud of bothered him.

“Merda”, he mumbled and slumped in his bathroom getting ready for the day. While styling his hair, it just would not stay in the position he wanted, and he groaned frustrated after a few tries, giving up. At least he could wear the face paint like he used to as a cardinal. Copia walked back to his room. He chose to only wear a simple red shirt today, as there were no meetings today and he would only stay in his office and maybe hang out with the pack later that day. Before leaving for breakfast, he fed his rats and realized he needed to get them new food.

“Morning Papa!” Swiss was sitting at the kitchen table, already sipping his coffee and eating some cereals. As usual, the ghoul was the first to be awake. He had asked him once about it and Swiss just shrugged it off and said he couldn’t sleep for more than seven hours and even that much sleep was rare. For that, Swiss often napped at daytime.

“Morning”, he answered and wanted to reach for his favourite cup only for it to be still in the dishwasher; dirty. So he took another cup instead and sat down in front of Swiss and began to drink his coffee. He would wait for the others, before eating.

“You alright?”, Swiss asked after some seconds, looking at the satanic pope in worry. Of course, he could smell the distress on him.

“Si si, I’m fine”, he answered and smiled at his ghoul.

Swiss nodded and finished his cereals. He watched his Papa out the corner of his eye, seeing how Copia dropped the smile the second he looked away. The man was back in his own thoughts. His mind decided to remind him of a talk he had with Imperator two days ago. She wanted to talk about some documents, and Copia dropped everything to go to her office, as usual. And somehow he ended up rambling about his rats and the new book he had read. The man knew that he could be annoying, he just could not stop himself from being so, because when he loved he wanted to share things. Imperator however looked up from her desk once after she was through with the documents she wanted to talk about, and Copia felt ignored. He continued to ramble, though, because he wanted to tell someone, just to get it off his head. Maybe she was listening, no? And she looked up, and he wanted to end the sentence when she finally spoke…

“Morning Papa!”

Copia jumped slightly as he heard Aethers voice from the door. The quint drags Dewdrop with him, the fireghoul still looking rather sleepy, but his gaze cleared a bit when a smell reached his nose; it was like a rotten fruit. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but felt Aethers tail squeezing against his back and shut his mouth again.

“After breakfast”, Aether whispered in Dews ear and kissed him on the cheek. Dew nodded.

***

“Can we come in?” Swiss knocks at Copias office door. Aether and Dew were next to him, the rest of the pack wanted to come too, they all could smell something was wrong, but they also knew that their Papa was no fan of too many stimuli, when it came to feelings; so they continued with their tasks.

“Si!”, came the answer, and the ghouls entered the office, closing the door behind them. All three walk over to the desk and looked at the sitting man.

“Now what’s wrong?”, Aether asked, his eyes trying to get eye contact with Copia, who refused to look at them.

“I said I’m fine”, he told them, but his tone betrayed that he was not.

Aether shook his head, knowing how bad Copia was with feelings. He also had an idea of what was going on. The satanic pope kept straightening his shirt while eating breakfast and even now, he was doing it again. It was no unusual behaviour, but this often was more like a coping mechanism. And it was to hide his body too.

“No, no you’re not”, Swiss was the one to state the obvious and Copia let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s just a bad day, for Lucifer’s sake! Everyone has those”, came a rather snappy answer, and all three ghouls looked at the man. Dewdrop raised an eyebrow.

“What happened then? That it is a bad day?”, Swiss asked.

Copia straightened his shirt again, and one of his hands remains on his thigh, brushing his fingertips over the fabric.

“It’s dumb”, he then said.

“No, it’s not.” It was the first thing Dewdrop said in this whole conversation. “You make me talk when I feel bad, so you will talk too”, he added serious.

They see Copias hand touching his jaw, then his leg again, he was distressed.

“I don’t want to be annoying”, he then said, his voice somehow strained, his gaze on the desk. “I don’t want to ramble, I don’t do it on purpose.” The self-conscious feelings from earlier were still loud in his head. But it is not about his body any more. That was something he couldn’t change, he knew that, because he tried many times. But maybe, just maybe, he could change his tendency to overshare.

Aether took a step forward and crouched down to be on an eye-level with the Papa. He smiled softly, his gold fang shining slightly in the light.

“You are not annoying, you never are, Copia. People who tell you that don’t deserve you”, the quint tells him, and the other two agreed immediately. “Talk to us. Say as much as you want, we will listen, we love to listen to you, you know that.”

The mismatching eyes were watery when Copia looked up, he was overwhelmed with his own feelings. Everyone who knew the satanic pope, knew that he could not handle bad feelings at all. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it then, fearing that his voice would break.

“Never feel bad about who you are, never. You are perfect as you are, Copia. And we are here to show you.”

The man wanted to take a deeper breath, it came out as a sob and Dew rushed over, pulling his Papa up to hug him. He hated to see him down, the man who always believed in him, who helped him when help was needed. Copia did not deserve such feelings. A tail curled around Copias leg, and he felt more arms grab him, practically crushing him in a hug, as the other two joined their hug. He tried to stop the sobs, and it worked, after what felt like an eternity.

But they would not let him go, until he was ready, and he appreciated it. They were his ghouls, his family, and he believed them, because they would never lie.

___________

I wanted to write fluff, it's more hurt/comfort, but whatever... It would be a lie to say I wasn't projecting. I finally managed to put in words how it feels to me, when someone tells me that I'm annoying.

(And no one really cares, but I'm not that ill any more, though my head hurts more from all the coughing)

#copia #papa emeritus iv #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ficlet #projecting? me? never

35 notes · View notes