* In light, I dissolve,

soft and bloody moonlight, filtering in lambent waves through the transient space, is the first indicator that something has changed. the doll is comfortable and complete, raises her hands as if receiving a heavy burden— reaches to catch this new arrival with open arms, though the touch of flesh never comes. something is different about this one, who comes young and bashfully concerned, yet tenacious all the same. this one, who can, as it seems, already see her— and yet has not gone mad, and remained a stranger.

"in a moment, you may go as you please," she says, low and soft, and presses stiff fingers together. "but for now, you should remain here, and take rest."

*because i love reading the most in this world , after all. a writing blog for KIM DOKJA of singnsong's webnovel ; omniscient reader's viewpoint. an exploration of the loneliest existence , this long and arduous story , and how reading can become one's lifeline. oc , and crossover friendly. please give this a ♡ or ↻ if you'd be interested in interacting. i look forward to writing with you !! ──── as narrated by key.

i, a segment of love, born for catastrophe✦ a private, selective, & low-activity portrayal of THE TSARITSA. based in personal headcanon⸻not canon compliant, and will not align with hoyoverse's unreleased vision. designed by amren. expect heavy divergency and original worldbuilding.

[ 17. ] rhinedottir dabs the blood from aether's face with a wet cloth. — “do not disappoint me.”

To have come to meet the presiding Shade of Life, the very mother of Khaenriah’s horrors and one of the Five renowned Sinners in the flesh would have been a grand achievement ( or great MISFORTUNE ) all in itself. Aether had - rather unfortunately - become somewhat numb to the prospect of it. His travels across Teyvat had been extensive and as he’d taken on the role of faithful audience, he’d come to witness a myriad of all sorts of characters upon this world’s stageplay.

Now he sat before her, his tolerance of her presence and touch a mixture of begrudging acceptance and thorough unwillingness tamped down flat. He winced as she swabbed at his face, cleaning the messy laceration that stretched from cheekbone to jaw. It stung with the fervour of a fresh wound contaminated by the Abyss, a parting gift from the Rifthound who’d landed it and summarily perished beneath the bite of his own blade. Her action was one that was utterly lacking in genuine consideration. Everything was a matter of plain UTILITY to her. If she sought to involve herself, then there would almost certainly be a catch to follow.

“I would FIRST have to grasp your expectations of me before I could even think of trying to be a disappointment.” Aether responded dryly, lifting his chin and watching her through narrowed eyes, wearing a smile devoid of true mirth.

rough cloth, perfectly sterile⸻otherwise, wholly unfit for the cleaning of wounds. gold presses gauze to aether's face with the sole intention of stopping bleeding. there is no tenderness there, no room for accommodating weakness. still, she is not overtly rough nor cruel⸻contained in the fingers that now brush aether's hair from his face is the precise action of a clinician.

“ hm, ” she responds, with only a soft smile. perhaps it is true that disclosing her intentions would produce more grounded results, but she doesn't want aether to strive for something unnatural. if that was her aim, she could use anyone. it is about his particular evolution, the natural progression of this specific growth. the authentic nature of a descender, something she has never observed⸻something she watches with great expectations.

“ i could, ” she says finally, as rhinedottir straightens her back and drops the blood-soaked cloth to the ground. “ but it's much more interesting to see what you'll do, isn't it? ”

arms fold, cross over her chest. “ you are unique. why would i stifle that potential with useless conjecture? act as you would, knowing now that i am always watching. should you be lacking, i will discard you like any other failure. ”