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#immortalsystem
immortalsys · 3 months
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Kaeya (angst) Headcanons !!! yayy
Tw religous themes
- He has a golden eye, which he hides beneath the patch. Around it, there's a burn scar, but his vision recovered itself through the use of khemia. His tears are golden, too.
- When he first arrived in Mondstadt, he had a strong, "strange" accent which faded over time. His way of speaking was also odd; it resembled the vocabulary of ancient Mond. This also faded away.
- Being near Statues of the Seven triggers chronic pains in his joints and weighs down his body. Looking at them results in eye-pain, especially the golden one. This pain lessens when he lowers his head in respect.
- The Statues terrified him as a child. Even as an adult, there is a primal, creeping anxiety blossoming anytime he gets close.
- Additionally, the Wind has been a suspiciously reactive element; near Statues, it wraps around him, both as comfort and silent warning. It becomes icy and sharp on days he bitterly thinks of home, warm and soothing on restless nights he spends patrolling.
- He does not pray. However, he isn't blind to signs either.
- He's forgotten some of the spoken language and runes of khaenriah. They still manage to haunt his dreams almost each night, follow him in Domains.
- speaking of; He hears echoed cries in ancient domains. Begs to save them, to free them of their agony, to stay. He does his best to ignore them.
- His own vision hurts. Wearing it at all weighs his body down, though using it not only creates joint pain, but lines of corruption zapping up his skin as well. They fade quickly, yet leave a hollow agony behind.
- He always knew Venti was Barbatos; what else would make him freeze in terror like that but a God? ... Over time he's come to relax in his presence, the alcohol certainly helps.
- He's had nightmares about That Night with Diluc so many times he can't remember what really happened anymore
- Speaking of; he dreams of Mondstadt burning down a lot. Of having to choose one day. Of the kids he grew up with back home, of them screaming for help. Of the faces of the elders, calling out for him. Their golden boy, their hope, their future.
- Klee reminds him of young Diluc. Maybe that's why he's so lenient and protective of her.
- He has written over a dozen letters to Diluc but never sent any.
- Helping out elderly in Mondstadt makes him feel more genuine and fake all the same; and too often, their faces merge with one's of the past.
- He knows Diluc visits Crepus' grave at least three times a year. His father's birthday, deathday, and Dilucs own birthday. Kaeya watches from the cathedral, legs itching to man up and join him. He's never managed to build up the courage to do so.
- The cold of Dragonspine is surprisingly soothing to his pains. He guesses that's also the case for Albedo, and why the Researcher stays there majority of the year.
- Speaking of; Albedo. He feels some kind of kinship with the man. They've talked a bit, but he's never been brave enough to bring up Khaenriah.
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immortalsys · 3 months
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Kaeya / Khaenriah
Headcanon Backstory Retelling
TW for death, religous themes & (implied) child abuse
___
He grew up in the Last Fortress of Khaenriah; a small group of ruins still intact enough to house the remaining people who had not been transformed.
They tried their hardest to keep their culture alive; teaching the small group of children the runes, telling stories of great architecture and craftsmanship.
Their food was more sparse than before, although the people of khaenriah were well equipped with fostering limited amounts of resources.
Kaeya loved listening to the adventures the guards and soldiers of the fortress would tell him. He and the other children would circle at the feet of their heavy armor, starry eyes wide.
The Elders were crushed, kind, crazed - they were sweet, reminiscent, sorrowful souls with no light left to light up their eye. But oh, they loved the golden prince.
He had a great many nicknames and titles. Being one of the last khaenriahns with royal blood, moreover one with a golden eye ("and heart") he was loved by all. Aurum, golden child, golden boy, golden hope, golden future...
Although he spent most of his time exploring the ruins with other kids, listening to stories, writing runes in the dust, singing along to songs and learning to read and write, it wasn't all perfect.
The elders, the few remaining parents, the knights; their eyes are haunted, their bodies frail, littered by burns, scars, lines of corruption. He watched as they shook, some in sleep, some all the time.
Kaeya made acquaintance with Death at young. His father, or an elder, would walk up to him with sad eyes, clasp his hand and lead him to one of the sick beds. Laying there would be a dying creature, hands blackened by the curse. He would sit by their side, hold their hand until the last light vanished from starry eyes.
"To see the golden child alive was a promise of a future beyond ones own life" his father had explained when he'd asked, lowering his arm, an odd sensation of warm death sticking to skin.
Fire was white. It would flicker in what they called "night", even if they had no means to measure time down here. The Elders would stand, hands spread wide, lamenting and speaking of the old times. Cursing at the Gods, at the false Sky, the Kingdom that fell.
As Kaeya grew older, their speeches became wilder, angrier, fantastical. His father spoke too; almost each night. Lately, (when he was 5) he had taken to praise the words of a God like no other. It called itself SINNER.
He did not believe in much his father told him. He loved home, but he couldn't miss what he'd never seen - and while he yearned to see his Kingdom in its prime, it wouldn't get up from the ashes through the Gods fall.
Kaeya did not mention this, of course. From 6 years on, he was schooled in the language of "Mond". The elders, the remaining Teacher, tried her best at it. Based of an old dictionary from before the fall and two books in Mond, he could speak and write it by 11 years old.
Father's speeches and rants were becoming nonsensical. He'd convinced more people to belive too. Kaeya silently nodded along, unsure about it all.
Despite the destruction of everything they'd ever known, the fortress was not vacant of culture - song, dance, myth. Echoed rhymes, hushed legends, clacking shoes on stone. The nights were alive, alive, alive.
Kaeya liked the lullabies of Teacher. She sang to the children in their beds, khemia lighting up her hand, creating fluttering shards of flowerpetals. He finds himself humming its melody even decades later, when he struggles falling asleep.
Father and some Knights had taught him how to use a dagger. He playfully fought against the other kids, eyes gleaming in energy only reserved for a child.
Although Kaeya is unsure if he'd ever truly been allowed to simply be a child; burdened with the Hope, facing death and annihilation before ever seeing the sky.
The weeks leading up to his departure were filled by all sorts of celebration and preparation. Dance, Feasts, Hymns, glowing petals woven into his hair, glowing light of khemia striking and pure.
Kaeya was regarded by the other kids with envy, pity and awe. Bright starry eyes familiar and warm, hands as dirty as his own - playing catch around the fire despite warning calls.
On his twelfth birthday, he was gifted a crown, celebrated with the song he'd heard each year.
"Golden child, oh golden child of hope - you grow and grow, golden hope, golden boy - we lift you up to the sky, aurum o aurum, - for you will bring down the gods with a cry - golden boy, our golden child, you age again tonight!"
Father had taken him by the hand, bags filled with food and sleeping mats, crazed eyes dark, smile alive. It was time.
He had hugged the other children tight, gotten pats on the head from the Knights, a wave from Teacher, an echoed farewell from the entire Fortress.
A tunnel of light split the wall, and his father dragged him into promised land.
The journey took over two months, mostly spent in caves and domains, hidden from all.
Voices would call out to them, beg, cry, tell them to stay in those halls. His father never spoke about it, asleep as he guarded, dagger clutched in thin hands.
Father had become more harsh. Mad, at the world, at the Gods, at his son. Burning hatred pointed towards the golden boy, cowering beneath iron command.
Their food did not last; it wasn't meant for a world like that. They had to reach the surface for the first time. Hunting animals he'd never seen, eating plants strange and tall.
Each and every day, his father would rant. His instructions impossible, yet Kaeya did his best to follow each command. It way futile; nothing could mend the madness of a broken man.
Kaeya grew to be afraid of him. He spent his nights guarding, not for enemies but the man sitting up in dreams and screaming.
As their travel reached Mondstadt, they had become thin and starved. Kaeya was tired, yet plagued by dreams of anger and father or sadness and home.
At last: The Manor. They had left the last cave and walked through the woods, and it was the last time Kaeya would ever see his father. It began to rain. He had never seen it before, fascinated by the cold drops from the sky.
Father instructed him to cover his eye, and with a final, cold goodbye, he opened his palm as a slit opened up in the world. "You're our only hope, Kaeya."
He dropped to his knees to dirty them. He stumbled through the vines, legs getting cut on thorns. He was met by a yelling maid, rushing inside.
Not a minute later, he was being embraced by a red-haired man, speaking softly to him.
Never before had he heard that language, but he could understand parts of it. "Bist du...'Alone?' 'What's a child' draußen ohne 'coat'? 'Boy, what's your name?"
"Kaeya."
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immortalsys · 9 months
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SKYWARD (2023) - Aether
-
A Bard once told me,
Oh the saddest of stories
Make the best of songs
So raise your spear, know
Know that you are art
A painting of a soldier
Bloody fingers neigh erase his singing
Neigh erase the ground
Planting a seed of freedom, of healthy soil
Oh,
Won't you smile, how can you cry
In sight of tragic humanity
In sight of all this bloodshed
While stars shine bright
Raise your spear, soldier,
Raise your arms, my knight
Rise your eyes, my child -
For saving has come, oh,
For the night shall fade
And home shall be free
The bard looks skyward,
The storm rages on, in
A beauty known only in pain
In bloodshed and cries
"The best of rains wash away
All that once hurt, left with an
Aftertaste, of blood and wine," the bard
had hummed
As I stand by his side, a mere drop falls
"Skyward, skyward," he says
"will always take you home."
And I ignore his tears
Just as he ignores my own.
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immortalsys · 9 months
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We mostly lurk on here to get neo n xeno prns but yea... maybe this'll be a good place to share our poetry :]]
Soo... Intro post <3
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immortalsys · 8 months
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The Eldest Child - Mikaela (Hyakuya)
(Tw for implied death)
To be the eldest child
meant to become their guardian -
Their father who needed a stool
to reach the cupboards
by the sink.
Their older brother who's milk-teeth wouldn't come out -
A child just a few centimeters taller,
a few years older.
But the world was burnt to ash,
and their eyes held trust so great
it could cleanse
our rotten water source,
their adoration warm enough
to heat us in the winter.
And so I embraced their small faces,
held them tightly at night, with a knife beneath the pillow -
I'd stack broken furniture
to reach counters, bound my teeth
to string as you slammed the door
I barely remember their faces, yet I can recall the softness of their skin,
their shrill cries,
their bruised palms.
I remember all those nights
in abandoned houses, ripped sheets
hastily stitched
by untrained hands
I remember you,
and how you refused
to go to sleep before all kids did,
how you'd give them all our food
and go hungry most nights;
Your calloused hand in my own.
Tragedy lies in my every vein
I know you saw it those days
As I saw the agony in yours
We were barely six, barely alive
Though we became their fathers
Long before I was able to write
We spoke a language of our own;
Of glances, tired nods
and hushed conversation
as the children slept.
You were always quick
to sprint ahead,
Hunting for food
on an empty stomach,
searching for water
with a sore throat -
Always back at sundown,
dull green eyes pulled into a visage
of happiness
They celebrated your returns
Waved their small hands in glee
At every new adventure you'd tell
Of our plan to one day be free
And I would stay
A guardian with makeshift knives
A child in shirts too wide
and boots too tight
Always awake, always watching
We would hum songs
of the orphanage
And the children would sway
Our harmony was as broken as it was beautiful
For those moments,
all of the bad would go away
I remember the silent nights
where the moon shone bright
The kids all fast asleep, one curled up
by my side
We'd whisper over the fire,
and your smile would finally drop,
replaced by truth
Of exhaustion and grief, heavy shoulders and tired eyes
Two children
Daggers by their side,
the look in their eyes too old
for their youth
But we kept us alive, hand in hand
in sight of the apocalypse, decaying bodies and our broken land
We stood there, back to back
Your soul and mine combined
Forever intertwined
The eldest child
Knows nothing but sacrifice
It bares itself to the knife, to the fight
Willing to die, willing to endure
all torture of the world
to see them fine
I had this dream, of a paradise
where no one needed
to go hungry or cold
My last bit of young naiveté
To find that place or build it myself
To escape all this pain and suffering
To be free of the horrors of life
For this, I paid the price
A bloodbath I can never forget
The end of life, at the hands of him
I laid in the brutal display, reduced
to what I truly was - a child
But you ran,
For all of us who couldn't no more
And I died, knowing
at least Yuu had
Survived.
- Mikaela
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immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Monstrr - Ajax
i am left with the monster that is myself
and there is no mirror that hides its face
and its claws rip me apart
till i can rip the world in half
slice its core and snuff out its flame
to die, to be alive again
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
A creatures demise (Jan. 2023) - Mikaela
(Cw anxiety personified)
-
There are crazed creatures
Inside my ribcage
Inside my veins
Running and running in
Circles, trying to deny
The end, a scythe behind them
Storm through blood and under skin
Try to escape a mere
Punishment for their sin
I sit there, shaking
A war inside my skin,
Sweating, restless, an animal inside
An animal
It is nothing new, this shiver
It is an old foe of silver and gold
Creatures running through
A scythe nearby
Restless, I can do nothing
Sitting while nothing feels right
Tortuous hours go by, a pounding heart
Crazy eyes
There's paint spilled
There's an unfinished page
There's a book on the nightstand
A tablet on the bed
There's a creature
A creature full of sparks
In the midst,
It cannot cry,
Mute, blind and innocent -
The silence is too loud
Sounds are too quiet
Movement is stasis
And stasis is not enough
Thoughts are jarring
Yet my voice is too small
There are creatures in my ribcage
And I wish the scythe would carve
A hole inside their hearts
There is no reason for them to run,
No reason for this shaking
I am safe in this room,
There is no looming doom
So why, tell me why,
You run,
little one?
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immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Cruel (Jan. 2023) - Ajax
-
I can be quite cruel -
In all my existence,
I have yet to hold another life
And call it more important than my own
To pluck worms off the street
And save a birds wing stuck in a net
A heart that is full of giving, of loving
I believe I must always withstand
To hold onto myself, to keep on living
But is this cruelty truly what I am?
I would say yes,
It is in my blood, in my every footstep
I fought this world with hands and teeth
Bathed in blood that wasn't my own
Just to survive, just to look up
To the stars
Once more
And I won't spend much time
Debating if i am human
Or tainted by this blood
Because if the stars may judge my
Cruelty
Then I shall judge their making of it.
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immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Stardust (2022) - Mikaela
-
"Who am I?"
The Fox leaps into a mirror, shards
fall onto frozen lake.
It does not recognize its face.
I have been many of things, have
met the shards of my own,
have lost myself to the void,
born new again from its fractured fate -
An old soil sprouting yet another heart,
unwilling to bend to destiny's will
Everything all at once,
down to the bone, downwn to the stars II
had once emerged from, dust to dust as I
observe myself from another pair
of eyes
"You are us, we are you,"
The Fox in the Mirror says,
snout bleeding eyes meeting its
own
A shattered Mirror
reflects the moon.
Collection of Souls,
Swarm of Dust,
Array of Stars -
The voices talk,
I am them as they are me,
We are one and the same; atoms -
Stardust as old as the void.
Some get lost in it,
lose voice and thought and heart,
Some never leave my side,
be the very ground I stand on, eyes
that see and ears that
hear -
I will not be the last,
a soul stitched together by
ones before me,
and string ready to stitch
yet another one
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immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Flightless Bird (2022) - Mikaela
-
Light slows in the face of time
Stars fall down in sight of the scythe
A cloud covers the eyes
Of a barely there moon
Hidden from all sin below
The weight is back
Tar in between a birds wing
Sticking freedom to a black sludge
Should I free you, should I pluck
Those broken feathers from your back?
It rips and tears
Oh how beautifully pain
Paints all beings
In lines of silver and grey
Under light of a barely there moon
And the bird wishes it to be over soon
Feet made of stone
Yearning,
Yet never changing,
Breaking under self made pressure
To be something else
Someone else
I reach for the stars
Yet never cared to take the tar off my wings
And wonder why I can't ever fly
Staring up
To you,
To me
With every circle of the sun
I am destined to watch stars fade to blue
Tar on my wings
It'll be asphalt soon
Infinity (2022)
Wings sprout like a lavenders seed,
breaking through earth and
skin,
reaching up to the endless sky
High above, to infinity -
One most will never comprehend
They grow and grow,
Feather after Feather
Stalk after Stalk
So many paths, so many ways
To live these days,
To leave something behind
Yet the wings stretch and stretch, and
the
Skin is red and bruised,
Sky's still up ahead, a
Few bloody feathers
Can never head
On over up to it, high, high
above, to infinity
I can never decide
where to start,
where to plant those seeds,
where to lay down and let them
sprout
Others are above me already,
I watch them fly
See others gardens full
of bright petals, stone
paths overtaken by
Paradise
I cradle the lavender
with my hands, look up, up-
High above, high and
endless,
Infinity looks back.
0 notes
immortalsys · 9 months
Text
Flightless Bird (2022) - Mikaela
-
Light slows in the face of time
Stars fall down in sight of the scythe
A cloud covers the eyes
Of a barely there moon
Hidden from all sin below
The weight is back
Tar in between a birds wing
Sticking freedom to a black sludge
Should I free you, should I pluck
Those broken feathers from your back?
It rips and tears
Oh how beautifully pain
Paints all beings
In lines of silver and grey
Under light of a barely there moon
And the bird wishes it to be over soon
Feet made of stone
Yearning,
Yet never changing,
Breaking under self made pressure
To be something else
Someone else
I reach for the stars
Yet never cared to take the tar off my wings
And wonder why I can't ever fly
Staring up
To you,
To me
With every circle of the sun
I am destined to watch stars fade to blue
Tar on my wings
It'll be asphalt soon
Infinity (2022)
Wings sprout like a lavenders seed,
breaking through earth and
skin,
reaching up to the endless sky
High above, to infinity -
One most will never comprehend
They grow and grow,
Feather after Feather
Stalk after Stalk
So many paths, so many ways
To live these days,
To leave something behind
Yet the wings stretch and stretch, and
the
Skin is red and bruised,
Sky's still up ahead, a
Few bloody feathers
Can never head
On over up to it, high, high
above, to infinity
I can never decide
where to start,
where to plant those seeds,
where to lay down and let them
sprout
Others are above me already,
I watch them fly
See others gardens full
of bright petals, stone
paths overtaken by
Paradise
I cradle the lavender
with my hands, look up, up-
High above, high and
endless,
Infinity looks back.
0 notes