Giving The LL Fans What They Need, An AU To Think About. This Correlates With Ayannas Warning To Anisa

Giving the LL fans what they need, an AU to think about. This correlates with Ayanna’s warning to Anisa about the MC being from Earth.

What if the main 3 finding out LoS was from Earth made them turn against the MC? They can’t send the MC back to Earth right away so their next best option is to lock them away.

I’d like to think at some point they’d need MC because of the Astrolabe. The “I rather we not team up” team up. If Rime stays around its a double rime situation and the mc and rime could bond over not being trusted by the other characters.

plot twist: mc enters their villian arc???🫣

y’know what? FUCK you. i’m putting your ass in the control group. *injects you with boring saline instead of the fun and exciting glowing green goo i originally had planned*

took a nap and Came Back Wrong

ASOUE FANART !!!!! 

uwu

" clouds "

✧ cw: scaramouche ; angst ; blood ; [name] death ; not proofread

✧ a/n: have some angst bc yes!! i hope everyone likes the new theme too :)

  the sky is pelting grayish blue raindrops all around the scene, forming puddles that rivulet through the grass and ripple down the slope. there is a puddle settling underneath you, an indentation in the ground that fills and almost looks like glass; almost, if not for the trickle of inky, blooming color that stains it an unmistakable, bloody scarlet.

  "[name]," heaves the boy kneeling above you as you take rattling breaths in, like tiny knives on your windpipe, "[name]." glittering black and gold ashes of corrupted samurai wisp into the air, buoyed by pale green breezes before they disappear in the downpour. "[name], can you -- can you -- "

  "scaramouche," you say, and he barely even stiffens. you try to breathe, and your lips twist, just slightly, into a smile. "scaramouche ... kunikuzushi ... look at the clouds."

  he doesn't move his head, and he's trembling just a bit; his bloody, scraped knees are shaking, clothes plastered in freezing rain to his thin frame. "who cares about clouds? can – ” 

  you don’t seem to hear him, your eyes glazed with joy as you look up. “they’re so pretty,” you breathe.

  “stop talking about the clouds, can you breathe? are you -- " he gulps. "what's the pain feel like?"

  "ah," you suck in a breath, "it's not so bad, really, it's just -- like a dull ache."

  he is not cruel enough to test this, but he can hear the lie ringing through your quiet words like the toll of a bell. "stop," he grits his teeth, "don't say that. you don't get to do that. i know it hurts, so don't lie to me." 

  "okay," you whisper. and with that word, you come apart, your body going limp. it hurts. blood flows faster, and he presses his hands harder on your stomach. 

  a few beats pass. there is silence, broken by your labored breathing and the endless rain. you can feel your life ebbing. 

  "kuni," you say, shivering painfully, waves of icy, pointy cold crashing over you with every moment, "is this it?"

  "no!" he shouts, and his normally commanding and unquestionable voice is tremulous and just as he knows the sound of your lies you know his. "don't say that! you're gonna be fine, just stop talking already and save your strength."

  "i don't want to stop talking," you whisper. "i don't wanna stop. kuni -- i haven't even done anything, i -- there's so much i still haven't seen -- this can't be the end, this -- "

  you cough, and blood comes out. "this isn't the end," he bites, and tries not to rock back on his heels when a fresh wave of blood pools against his calloused palms. he hates the feeling of your life trickling out and his hands on the wound like he's trying to press it back in. "it's gonna be fine. i told you ... i'd take you to mondstadt for your birthday. we're gonna go to starsnatch peak. the cecelias smell just like -- "

  "honey," you finish, smiling breathlessly. your eyes are shimmering. "this is wrong."

  "this is wrong," he repeats. neither of you really know what the other means.

  you swallow. he blinks rapidly. there are glassy drops collecting on the ends of his eyelashes. you reach up to wipe his eyes with one unsteady hand. "honey," you say again, "i love you, kuni," and then your hand falls, and your eyes turn, almost in a single moment, to unseeing mirrors. 

  "hey." his voice is quiet. "hey, [name], what the hell?" 

  there is no response.

  "hey, [name]," he presses harder on your stomach, "say something. look at me." he's shaking now, tears welling in those impenetrable eyes, like sea glass in their vivid color. "[name], look at me! look at me!"

  but you are looking at nothing but the clouds; and he refuses to turn his eyes skyward to take those traitorous clouds in; that thundering, eternal reminder of his infinite failure, over and over and over again. and now, you are looking up at the clouds, and his hands are staunching a slowing bloodflow, a stopped heart.

  he groans, pitifully quiet, the sound snatched away from him in the gathering winds. he sounds like a lost child. "[name]." his body twitches, shuddering with grief; and then he is sobbing, fists clenching handfuls of your sodden shirt as he tries to shake you, as if he can rouse you from your sleep. "stop it, stop," he whispers, “stop messing with me. just look at me, i – i’m sorry – i’m sorry i didn’t – i couldn’t – ”

  he remembers that you can’t hear him – remembers he is crying over a body – and he cries harder, almost hyperventilating. he can’t breathe. the rain is whipping into a frenzied storm, swirling faster every time he remembers that the air he is wasting with his half broken gasps is air you no longer breathe. he is weeping, painful, stabbing heartache ripping into his chest every new second, and he thinks maybe it would be better if he was gone too just so he didn’t feel this anymore

  and then a strange feeling ghosts over his shoulder. a familiar feeling, like the hand of –

  of someone he loves –

  and all at once, the heavens clear; he whirls, and there is nothing there. just clear blue sky and ripples of smooth wind, breezing over the grass and flattening it in waves. he looks back, tears still welling in his eyes and running down his cheeks, but you are still there. still dead. 

  “[name],” he whispers, voice choked. “i’m looking. i’m looking.” the sky is empty. “the clouds – they’re – ” they’re gone; everything is gone. “i – i got it, so – can you – ”

  to whatever he was going to say, there is no answer.

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