𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐍.

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 / 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒.

[eonadrift]

 ⸻   久世浮傾   [   .   .   .   ]   𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙳𝚁𝙸𝙵𝚃.   private   &   selective   𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫   /   𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆,   of   hoyoverse's   𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣   𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩.   primarily   headcanon   based   &   potentially   canon   divergent.   nsfw   will   be   present.   character   is   not   nice.   minors   /   proshippers   &   personals   do   not   interact.   written   by   finch.   30.   any   pronouns.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐢. carrd      𝐢𝐢. prompts      𝐢𝐢𝐢. headcanons

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓  𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒  /  𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮  𝑳𝑬𝑭𝑻  𝑩𝑼𝑻  𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑺.

[eonadrift]

I need everyone to see this scarame.owche phone grip I just ordered

[dvouring]

          had he been younger and more reckless, maybe his initial reaction to the dreams about hachi would have resulted in bumbling incoherency, rage and hysteric crying. maybe that ajax in his dreams, the version of him that had been infatuated with the balladeer from the moment he’d laid eyes on this fierce being wielding lightning as easily as any sword, would have confronted the elusive wanderer immediately and demanded an explanation. but he was not that ajax. he was not “ scara’s ajax. ” ( had he ever been ? ) whether it was due to the destruction of his constellation or his abyssal curse, timelines of what once was wasn’t, and what wasn’t was, and in this reality, his first kiss had not been hachi’s, his first love had been another’s.

          instead, he reflected on them, holding the memories in his hands as if trying to gauge the weight of them. hachi’s face became apparent in his sleep, and at that point he knew they were no longer dreams. there had been too many similarities, although scaramouche had been far more sadistic, so much more pain in his eyes whenever the ajax of the past expressed something heartfelt. he'd poured his heart out foolishly, and been rejected time and time again. the ache of it was real, this profound sense of loss, of the sort of abandonment ajax had built himself up against from the moment he climbed out of the abyss, all for a life that had never been, a past rewritten.

          he kept this facet of his mind to himself, unsure whether hachi could even recall a past ajax, unsure whether this really was just some great conjuring of his mind, driven by some undercurrent of attraction childe tried so blatantly to ignore. but he could not ignore his muscle memory. where once the harbinger’s tea pouring skills had been adequate at best, the ‘other’ version of him had tea pouring etiquette drilled into their aftercare routine. he paid it little mind, so focused on his next assignment that he ran on autopilot, prepping dried leaves, executing sure and steady pouring techniques that only a month ago had been brutish and too efficient to draw out exquisite flavour. he had the steeping time down to an art, specifically to suit the way scaramouche hachidori liked it.

@eonadrift.

[eonadrift]

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫'𝐬   presence   was   something   that   hachi   wouldn't   be   caught   dead   mentioning   aloud   -   but   it   settled   into   his   porcelain   bones   with   an   urgent   familiarity.   indeed   -   he   knew,   perhaps,   he   was   tempting   fate   by   selfishly   seeking   childe's   presence   again   -   instead   of   taking   the   punishment   of   his   absence   and   forgetting   of   him   as   he   should   have   been.   but   hachi   was   a   covetous   creature   -   in   all   things.   eons   upon   eons   had   been   spent   with   the   beings   he   cared   for   ripped   from   his   embrace,   his   fragile   heart   he   had   thought   himself   lacking   -   so   it   stood   to   reason   he   would   not   let   childe   go.   childe   -   who   was   so   different   from   that   harbinger   recruit   that   had   landed   a   scratch   upon   his   pretty   features,   childe   -   who   had   once   poured   the   very   depths   of   his   soul   out   to   him   only   for   scaramouche   to   sneer   and   crush   those   feelings   in   his   fist.   childe   -   who   hachi   wouldn't   let   go.   not   this   time.   he   knew   it   was   vile   of   him,   but   the   wanderer   had   enough   blood   on   his   hands   to   not   give   a   shit.   

ㅤㅤㅤhe   lounges   against   the   settee,   sprawled   out   with   a   regality   distinctly   his   own.   a   book   is   clutched   between   slim   fingertips,   and   indigo   eyes   roam   the   words   with   rapt   attention   -   drinking   in   each   sentence   with   the   curiosity   of   a   500   year   old   immortal   living   among   academics.   ajax   has   poured   him   tea   before   -   made   it   too   watery,   or   too   deep;   and   hachi   drank   it   of   course   -   but   it   wasn't   perfect,   because   ajax   didn't   remember   the   way   scaramouche   had   taught   him   how   to   do   it   -   didn't   remember   the   way   he-

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   idiot,   ❞   comes   his   click   of   annoyance,   the   balladeer   crowding   into   the   11ths   side,   and   beholding   the   ceramic   pot   and   cups   with   a   disdainful   curl   of   his   nose,   ❝   you'll   ruin   it,   pouring   it   like   that.   do   you   know   how   much   it   costs   to   smuggle   this   in   from   tatarasuna?   let   me.   ❞   despite   his   brusque   words,   scaramouche's   hands   are   strangely   gentle   -   plucking   the   pot   from   childe's   fingertips   (   perhaps   his   touch   lingers,   perhaps   it   doesn't   )   to   demonstrate.   one   hand   holds   the   vessel,   and   the   other   sweeps   back   the   sleeve   of   his   robe   as   he   tips   the   spout   towards   the   cup   and   pours   with   deliberate   slowness.   perfect.   graceful.   serene   -   not   a   drop   spilled   and   done   in   such   a   way   that   for   a   moment,   just   a   moment,   casts   scaramouche's   gaze   far   far   away.   

ㅤㅤㅤhachidori   blinks,   struck   from   the   memory   now   at   how...   flawlessly   the   harbinger   brews   his   tea.   book   cast   aside,   he's   on   his   feet,   crowding   to   the   taller's   side   to   peer   at   his   handiwork   and   before   he   could   tame   his   words   -   before   he   could   muffle   the   weight   of   his   curiosity...   ❝   how'd   you   learn   to   do   that?   ❞   he   blurts   out   at   the   same   moment   his   hand   reflexively   shifts   forward   to   steady   the   cup   -   careful,   as   always,   to   not   touch   ajax.   ❝   inazuman   tea   is...   it's   a   fickle   art,   i   mean.   i'm   surprised   you   know.   ❞   all   that   was   missing   was   the   zap   of   electro   to   the   cup,   but   childe   didn't   need   to   be   privy   to   that.   but   if   childe   remembered   how   to   do   this...   -   did   he...   no,   that   would   be   silly.   and   besides,   hachi   thinks,   he's   better   off   never   remembering   the   many   ways   scaramouche   had   broken   his   heart   at   all.

[enilehtnorevol]

[eonadrift]

i feel like there is such a primo drought in genshin rn. it's the woooooorst. stop squeezing my for my pennies.

[eonadrift]

I like to remind myself on occasion that Wan still very much remembers Isshin arts and the way N.iwa taught him to forge blades but picking up hammer again would be very difficult for him okay bye

[eonadrift]

poo poo? and persmaps even... dare i say it?? 😏 pee pee

when will i be free from the torment of this mortal coil

[eonadrift]

🕳💩🚽.

i can hear it when you tell your cats to stop being buttholes

[evercelle]

then i’ll unmake me

[eonadrift]

@rikyos: you think me more naive than i am.

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧   𝐡𝐞   𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬   𝐚𝐭   𝐡𝐢𝐦   -   he   sees   painful   familiarities   -   agonizing   instances   of   memories   that   flit   through   the   vestiges   of   his   mind   like   petals   on   the   wind.   at   times   -   the   handsome   face   of   the   swordsman   blends   with   the   rivers   of   time,   so   quickly   becoming   the   ghost   of   niwa   that   hachi   finds   himself   back   in   tatarasuna   -   hammer   in   hand   and   laughter   on   his   tongue.   and   yet   as   quick   as   the   resemblance   is   there   -   it's   gone,   replaced   by   carmine   eyes   and   a   sonorous   but   firm   voice   that   quells   even   the   riotous   song   of   ire   in   his   veins.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   aren't   you?   ❞   he   echoes,   but   naive   is   not   the   right   word.   perhaps   he   is   simply   idealistic   -   as   so   many   humans   tend   to   be.   regardless,   kazuha   is   made   of   many   things   that   even   the   wanderer   cannot   turn   away   from   -   the   stark   resemblance   to   his   own   past,   the   touch   of   wind   at   his   fingertips,   and   the   denial   with   which   he'd   deflected   divinity.   some   humans   were   fascinating,   even   more   so   than   the   god's   many   of   them   worshipped.   indigo   eyes   do   not   remove   themselves   from   the   other's   visage,   and   instead   he   grabs   the   pitcher   between   them,   warm   rice   wine   poured   into   the   saucer   before   he   passes   it   to   his   companion.   rare   -   for   hachidori   to   pour   anyone's   drinks   but   his   own,   yet   he   supposes   kazuha   has   earned   just   one.   

ㅤㅤㅤkasa   sat   aside,   the   puppet   watches,   and   waits   a   moment   -   chewing   his   words   slowly   as   he   always   seems   to:   the   meticulous   nature   of   immortality   lending   him   all   the   time   in   the   world   to   do   so.   ❝   fine   then.   you're   not   naive,   just   idealistic.   ❞   he   murmurs   wryly,   before   uttering   his   next   course:   ❝   you   know,   i've   been   wondering.   how   does   it   feel   to   stand   face   to   face   with   such   a   wretch   of   a   god   and   win?   ❞

[eonadrift]

@pearlcure: "that is your great gift. but it's a curse as well."

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝?   𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝.   𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬   𝐡𝐞   𝐝𝐢𝐝   𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥   cursed   these   days   -   swathed   in   the   memories   of   inazuma   -   his   home   more   like   a   frigid   blast   of   his   worst   memories   as   opposed   to   the   warm   balm   of   familiarity.   watatsumi   and   the   left   over   effects   of   the   resistance   are   a   reminder   of   scaramouche's   meddling   -   the   far   reaches   of   his   folly   and   even   more   so,   of   his   creator's   arrogance.   perhaps   he   and   ei   were   not   so   dissimilar   -   though   he   loathe   to   admit   it.   even   if   time   does   not   remember   kabukimono,   hachidori   does   -   and   as   he   looks   into   the   priestess'   eyes,   he   feels   a   deep   sense   of   familiarity.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   i   can't   say   i   enjoy   the   vexing   nature   of   paltry   human   emotion.   ❞   those   steely   indigo   eyes   betray   nothing,   but   as   he   takes   a   sip   of   the   tea   they   share   -   the   wanderer   speaks   again.   ❝   tell   me,   priestess.   how   do   you   contend   with   feeling,   and   the   emotional   needs   of   those   around   you?   ❞   not   that   he   particularly   cared   for   the   needs   of   others   -   but   curiosity   had   brought   him   here,   and   he   would   take   his   time   asking   questions   of   the   woman   who   had   feasibly   bested   his   creator.   

[eonadrift]

i was thinking the other day about how animals LOVE wan/derer. conversely, one of my other muses (al/bedo) - they tend to avoid. despite them both being 'synthetic,' wand/erer is a being elemental energy - native and natural to teyvat, where as al/bedo was created from 'khemia' and doesn't have the same place in in a 'natural' order that wan/derer does. despite his cantankerous nature - animals gravitate to him because they are 'alike' in a sense - where as they find the homunculus disturbing because he is something so distinctly 'other,' and they can sense a power that can create something from nearly nothing, as well as possess immense natural destruction (re: the cataclysm). anyways despite ENDLESSLY trying to get rid of them - birds, cats, even prey animals will gravitate to wan/derer because he represents 'safety' and 'likeness' in a sense, much to his chagrin.

[eonadrift]

anyways, this is the cutest shit i've ever seen.

[pachimation]

new year, new you,,,,,,,

ITS SCARA’S BIRTHDAY WHOOOOOOO 🥳🥳 thank you for being born you have infested my thoughts for the last year and a half like a cockroach and i literally cannot get rid of you no matter what i do <3

[xiincun]

;; once again i am going to have to plug my k.o.f.i as i had a woman drive into me on my way home yesterday and we think my car is going to be written off as it's old and decrepit and not worth enough for them to justify fixing it. i have com.misions open on there for simple head shots and such - but honestly even just signal boosting this post would mean the world to me. i'm working as much as i physically can but i just can't seem to make ends meet and can't face the idea of having to sell my horse that i've worked tirelessly for over the past five years because i just can't seem to get enough money behind me no matter what i do....

any help towards funds or even just spreading this around is incredibly gratefully recieved - as is any advice on where to go/what to do - i'm just in such a bad place right now i don't know what i'm meant to do

[eonadrift]

decided, quite suddenly, that scara deserved completely separate graphics from wan and now here we are.

[stardustprompts]

song of achilles  —  madeline miller   sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw :  death ,  murder

‘I do not like to lie.’

‘I have never seen anyone fight the way you do.’

‘there is no one like you.’

‘guess what I’m thinking about.’

‘I can’t imagine it. no one has ever tried to take something from me.’

‘he will be a god.’

‘you will be dead soon enough.’

‘do you want to be a god?’

‘i’m sick of talking about her.’

‘you answer a different question than the one I asked.’

‘I do not like to be deceived.’

‘I do not know if I am worthy.’

‘(name) sees many faults, some that are and some that are not.’

‘she will not be pleased, but I have weathered the anger of gods before.’

‘do not let what you gained this day to be so easily lost.’

‘perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.’

‘now I know how to make you follow me everywhere.’

‘I did not think that we would ever—-’

‘name one hero who was happy.’

‘they never let you be famous and happy.’

‘you do not give things up so easily now as you once did.’

‘if you have to go, you know that I will go with you.’

‘you will keep your peace or I will keep it for you.’

‘please, wait. please, let me explain. I did not want to do it.’

‘you did it for nothing.’

‘forgive me. I did not want it. It was not you.’

‘there is nothing to forgive.’

‘it will be better if you go quietly.’

‘you were jealous. you should be.’

‘you know, it’s funny; I keep thinking I’ve seen you before.’

‘useless information is my curse, I’m afraid.’

‘unfortunately I did just that, though I appreciate your faith in me.’

‘you were clever is hiding yourself; we had to be cleverer still in finding you.’

‘you are a fool not to see it.’

‘the ____ are known for their skill in battle, and their deaths will lift your name to the stars.’

‘the gods have seen for to share with me a prophecy about you.’

‘when he dies, people will say, who?’

‘If you go to ___ (place) you will never return.’

‘do not ask me to choose.’

‘I would not care. it would not matter to me. we would be together.’

‘you are a fool. your halfwit death will not save him.’

‘how much longer will he live?’

‘why should I kill him? he’s done nothing to me.’

‘I wish you had never come.’

‘I’ve heard you prefer to share. rooms and bedrolls both, they say.’

‘true is what men believe, and they believe this of you.’

‘your honor could be darkened by it.’

‘I have given enough to them. I will not give them this.’

‘there is nothing he can do. it would only bring him grief.’

‘I was close enough. I could have saved her.’

‘her death is on your head.’

‘you are angry, and not without reason. but why did you come to me?’

‘if you are truly his friend, you will help him leave this soft heart behind.’

‘he is a weapon, a killer. do not forget it.’

‘you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.’

‘if you hear nothing else I say, hear that. I do not say it in malice.’

‘my father told me once to think of them like animals. the men I kill.’

‘I have no need to forgive you. you cannot offend me.’

‘there are many ways to start a war.’

‘this is what I was born for.’

‘you feel misled; you were promised victory.’

‘I am here because I believe that we will win. I am staying until the end.’

‘the gods have chosen sides, and you must not draw their anger.’

‘he is not worthy of you. he had never been.’

‘do you not ever want children?’

‘I don’t think I would be much of a parent.’

‘what is your army without me?’

‘I am not the one who should kneel.’

‘you will come crying for mercy, but I will give none.’

‘if one of them is stalking you, you must give it something it wants more than you.’

‘who will rule if you fall?’

‘you betray him by warning me.’

‘you know if he had done it, I could have killed him.’

‘her safety for my honor. are you happy with your trade?’

‘there is no honor in betraying your friends.’

‘it is strange that you would speak against betrayal.’

‘you chose her. over me.’

‘my life is my reputation. it is all I have.’

‘I will not live much longer. memory is all I can hope for.’

‘I would have the memory be worthy of the man. I would have you be yourself, not some tyrant remembered for his cruelty.’

‘no fame is worth what you did today.’

‘you are a better man than I.’

‘you left yourself today. and now you have returned.’

‘do not say that until you have heard the rest of what I have done.’

‘no man is worth more than another, wherever he is from.’

‘truly it is unfortunate that one so young has so much pride.’

‘you were given a choice and you chose. you must live by it now.’

‘you have made a fair run of blocking fate’s path. but you cannot do it forever.’

‘whatever you do, I will stand with you, as I always have.’

‘he only threatens. he likes to see me afraid.’

‘there is no one that they fear more, or hate more.’

‘if he is dead, I will not be far behind.’

‘I would not leave you, if you wished to come.’

‘they should hate (name). it is his pride that kills them.’

‘you cannot go out again. you have lost too much blood.’

‘you must forget him. it is as you says; he will doom himself.’

‘they have made their choice. I shed no tears for them.’

‘they we’re foolish, yes, but they are still our people!’

‘you are destroying yourself.’

‘you are destroying yourself. you will not be loved for this, you will be hated, and cursed.’

‘I know what I am asking of you. but I ask it. for me.’

‘I wish he had let you all die.’

‘do you think you are the only one who loved him?’

‘kill me. it will not bring him back.’

‘he was worth ten of you. ten! and you sent him to his death!’

‘I hope that (name) kills you.’

‘there are no bargains between lions and men.’

‘I will not be able to protect you from him.’

‘he is dead. can your power bring him back?’

‘he is a mortal. and mortals die.’

‘I am done. there is no more I can do to save you.’

‘I am glad that he is dead.’

‘in grief, men must help each other, though they are enemies,’

‘it is right to seek peace for the dead. you and I both know there is no peace for those who live after.’

‘I do not sleep.’

‘i’m afraid I have been prompted by a rare stirring of guilt.’

‘I am only an honest man, who likes to see right done.’

‘fame is a strange thing. some men gain glory after they die, while others fade.’

‘we cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory.’

‘who knows! perhaps one day even I will be famous. perhaps more famous than you.’

‘we are men only, a brief flare of the torch. those to come may raise us or lower us as they please.’

‘I have done my best. let it be remember I tried.’

‘go. he is waiting for you.’