𝙍𝙀𝘽𝙀𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂.

𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀.

[lt-archived]

hi. i'm archiving this blog. feel free to softblock. i'm remaking, but it could be a while still.

[gracelis]

@lightricks. " papa's really not the worse, he just ... he's not good at letting people close. " viti, small dragonling that she is, has made an organised mess out of elodie's hair - what had been an attempt at a braid accented with flowers from the gardens could sooner be labelled a nest. she seems proud of her work though, bright blue eyes gleaming. she would have liked more variety but zhen always became agitated when she strayed too close to the volatile magical shroud keeping them all ensnared in this abandoned celestial palace. " please don't tell him where i got these! he'll scold me if he knows i was too close to the outer meadows again. " ( for that beauty and the beast au we talked about a while ago )

           wind caressed against her skin, cooling it &. shifting her skirts as she sat amongst the reeds. the little dragonling fussed about her hair pulling at it in places but the maiden just grit her teeth as she hummed a song. it fluttered through the air carried by the breeze. once the girl was she turned towards her , bright blue greeted bright blue as her hand gave the child a headpat. ❛    sweet viti , your papa will not know , i'll tell him i got these flowers.    ❜ if he got cross with her then fine. viti's hair had been deftly braided with daisies &. of course elodie had to match. a little fib did not hurt the curmudgeon of a caretaker. honestly , he could at least join them out for a stroll amongst the gardens. what was he doing anyways , deep in whatever hall of his grand palace. perhaps they should go find him to show off their new hairstyles. &. she would not mind snooping around , curious at what he spent hours doing. was he writing , sleeping , stalking across making wells into the carpets muttering who knows what ? his daughter was a breath of fresh air compared to him ... so private &. reserved.

     taking the small hand , they began to walk back together following the path of stones through trees , bushes , &. flora. a thought lingered upon her mind as she tried to make it disappear. but something made her sigh perhaps being around the sweet girl had softened the icy exterior around her heart. ugh fine ... she supposed it would be an olive branch of an offering if she were to do one nice thing for him. she guessed it was only cordial as a guest of his estate ? abode ? dwelling ? her eyes softened falling upon the bright eyed viti , ❛    should we pick up a flower for your papa before we go back ? ⸻ which one is his favorite ?    ❜

[lt-archived]

“ papa says all the ones i get him are his favourites. ” the little dragonling answered, swinging their hands between them as they traversed the cobblestone paths.

though they were not the only ones trapped in this realm, elodie had been the first person in some time to entertain her whims. elodie was like a princess. sweet on her, and filling the otherwise empty halls with singing. it was a nice change. viti knew very little about why they couldn’t leave, only that her father spent a great deal of time in his study trying the barrier. she had peeked once and been shoo’d out immediately. some people had tried to go beyond the meadows, but she had never seen them again. asking the one time had revealed the kind of expression upon her father’s face she never wanted to see again, only if it had been but a split second. “ he says the ones from the meadows are his least favourites, but i think that’s just because he doesn’t want me to stay there too long. ”

“ does this mean daisies are your favourite flower, elodie ? ” the deft ringlets of viti’s black hair bounce along with the crown of blooms, smattering blue scales reflecting in the sun as she holds elodie’s hand along a babbling brook. “ i want to see a flower from outside the meadows. ” this realm had been all she’d known for most of her life. it might have been peaceful here, but nothing much happened. it was like living in a snowglobe. “ papa doesn’t talk about it a lot, but he has a box of things from the outside world. before we started living here. there’s a book in there with a flower painted on it. i've seen in growing just outside the meadows. it’s tall ! taller than papa ! with a brown face, and yellow petals. ”

“ i think that one’s his favourite, but - we can’t go that far, elodie, he’ll get mad. ”

[121231212i]

Ajax

[reversescale]

@lightricks -- ;

If the Stellaron Hunters and Trailblazers were indeed destined to wage war against the Ruin Author, it made sense that they would begin by chipping away the factions that declared loyalty to THEM.

The Annihilation Gang splintered into dozens of other subgroups; one had aleady been eliminated by the Hunters while the Ever-Flame Mansion had been hobbled by Acheron, as the Emanator herself had informed him when they'd partnered together during the last leg of Stellaron Crisis in Penacony. This faction, as Elio had informed them, was known as the Parable Brotherhood, a sister faction of the Japella Brotherhood operating within a small star system they seized in an ineffable, tyrannical vice. The hum of the starship they'd rented for the sake of the mission created a hollow dissonance louder than the expansive, almost awkward silence that filled the ship's modest parlor.

With only the two of them delegated to this mission, Dan Heng stubbornly wished he could focus on the book he was reading, the cover and pages he'd read through bent under as he was wont. Gunmetal greens flickered upwards furtively, chancing looks at the swordsman with an air of expectancy growing tenser.

"...Nothing to say? Color me surprised."

[lt-archived]

under the impression the astral express often received the same instructions but in different fonts, the hunter had been prepared for a fairly uneventful mission. even when he found out who he’d been assigned as a companion, he’d feigned an unaffected countenance, still determined to carry out the mission as if it had been anyone else. besides, despite the occasional hiccup, he was starting to fall into a rhythm when it came to interacting with dan heng, something they could tolerate without driving knives into one another.

having only returned from the artificially operated cockpit, ren had resigned their journey to the yawning silence between them. he’d been more excited than he’d like to admit when dan heng was the one to break the silence. his head tilts, the corner of his lips twitching to regard the dragon in something akin to amusement. “ did you miss my voice that much , dan heng ? ” gravely intonations, a rare gritty note saved purely for addressing the archivist carrying a mellowed expression. freshly cleansed with a spirit whisper, riding off the high of another finished weapon, yes, he was in a good mood today. he wondered how long it could stay that way.

“ but, i’m sure you do. yes ? ” ( have something to say, that is. ) “ you’re rarely one to mince words. ”

[liverlemons]

And I am coming home to you

With my own blood in my mouth

Anyways go listen to Sax Rohmer #1 by The Mountain Goats

[lt-archived]

It’s with lordly indifference that their spar would end with Ren on his back while Dan Heng’s boot arrested the swordsman to the ground, the tension rising like dizzying steam despite the stoniness of the Trailblazer’s countenance. Yet, that tension is betrayed by the blatant drifting of his eyes over the swell of Ren’s chest, the way it heaved for breath. From the navel did Cloud-Piercer hover with exactness at each frog clasp, a careless flick snapping open the first, a second, to gradually exposing the bandaged, ashen skin beneath. Each clasp was cleaved in such a precise, careless fashion until the throat was left, falling open to expose the bob of Ren’s adam’s apple. The faint friction of speartip against exposed skin was its own song that followed the outline of his throat, jawbone, to his chin without breaking skin. 

Yet, as abruptly as it had begun, the weight of his foot lifted and the menace of his spear withdrew without a word, turning to leave with the faint air of victory and a tease left suspended in the air. (For ren kek)

@reversescale.

once, he’d believed each of dan heng’s callous advances had been a habit trickled down from his previous incarnation, but now it had become abundantly clear dan feng was not to blame for the sadistic streak that lay lying in wait behind each of the dragon's strikes. it had been made abundantly clear what the lancer used to torment his mental psyche had always been so much more effective than whatever physical pain he could inflict, ren just didn’t think that the trailblazer would stoop this low. because he had to know by this point, yes ? that the crazed obsession had been born of their sins, the curse connected their souls no matter how hard dan heng tried to sever it. he had softened that desire into something more palpable, but the lingering want would always be there.

i will want you for the rest of my lives.

unlike the brutality with which dan heng lured his bracers away, this torment felt more akin to leaving wine just out of reach. water would suffice, but couldn’t it be better ? could he not strive for things he did not deserve ? it was not fear in ren's eyes when pinned beneath a boot that could smash his sternum. it was awe. flecks of fire bloomed in his expression, bringing life to an otherwise deathly countenance. one arm raised to grip the ankle upon his chest, instinctive, as if he intended to keep dan heng there even if their only point of contact was steeped in violence. no matter, for he rewarded ren further, the trace of the beloved spear parting fabric like sensuous rolling silks. a rare flush marked the parts of ren’s body not already bruised and battered, splotchy blemishes contrast to the smooth even tint of skin flushed with desire.

the dragon feigned fairness, and even something akin to nobility, in front of other people, but ren knew beneath that was some compensation ; to alleviate a guilt that came with being born stifling his own ferocity, his anger, his bloodlust. to dangle their red thread in front of him so blatantly, to keep it out of reach, to play with his unyielding affections like a tiger with viscera shredded his heart again and again. this was a hurt that felt good, an unreciprocration that clouded what was left of his muddled brain, ‘til he could barely register dan heng pulling away, the glorious contact of steel on skin gone. he missed it. he wanted it. he wanted the way dan heng used to carve into his flesh because at least then they had been touching.

when he stood from the altercation on misaligned bones and broken bleeding skin, it wasn’t weariness that made standing difficult. it was the way his fingers trembled with longing, the way he yearned to keep those cold grey-green eyes on him. dan heng had always looked so beautiful seconds from killing him.

“ let’s not be obtuse. ” the shard sword materialised in his hand, but was sent back into the ether. “ are they testaments of your cruelty ? ” a smile then, all challenge and pointed teeth. “ - these frivolous flirtations of yours ? ”

[mirayama]

[alin-linlinlin]

What is he thinking about? ❄️

[lt-archived]

@ofinflorescence ♡'d.

“ charles has been feeling under the weather lately. i’ll be your stand in for the evening. ”

it was no secret to the locales of mondstadt that the younger ragnvindr brother was once the dab hand with a drink ( dubiously familiar with every type of wine even before reaching the legal age. ) thought his destiny hadn’t lie with the peaceful merchant dreams crepus had once envisioned for his youngest son, that didn’t mean he couldn’t relive the fantasy behind the counter from time to time, especially now that he and his brother were on better terms than before. yes, there were other people that could fill in charles’ role with little to no issues, even diluc himself could take the reigns for the night, but there was something nostalgic and refreshing about stepping away from his role a knight, even for the day.

still, the urge to grill the infamous silvana as a knight would had to be put on hold during this particular moonlighting session. whether he was doing anything particularly illegal shouldn’t have been kaeya’s business, but he had to admit that bartending still lent the same curious ear that his other professions did. drunk people did tend to talk, but smarter people kept their wits about them when privy to the captain’s true nature. that still didn’t stop kaeya from the wicked smile curling lips, the barely-there purr in his voice lolling over over the syllables of his invitation.

“ what will it be tonight silvana ? we always have a fresh batch of dandelion wine at the ready. a shot of fernet maybe ? a negroni ? or can i tempt you with a glass of death after noon ? ”

[cinthgarden]

despite everything, it’s still you—?

[lt-archived]

v small starter call. lucky dip. if you don't choose, i will.

[happyprettylittleliarsday-deact]

@shaymitchell: Because who doesn’t love golden hour? Am I right? #naturalfilter 😜☀️

[canacaeli]

the birth of the self

[lt-archived]

to move through time in such a distorted, confusing way was a curse in and of itself. the last thing he’d remembered was the blazing sun over kremnos sandstone, roaring crowds cheering as the festival slaked the ground with blood. now great and towering halls had been reduced to rubble, and paths filled with growing warriors housed only ghosts bereft of what it meant to be a warrior. pitiful. ajax wandered through the debris with familiar ease, despite all the destruction that had become of his home, amongst his former titankin he would find no answers. amongst them, he had been one of the only ones to keep their sentience, even under the mad gods power, he had still retained thought. his kin were of no help. bow at the ready, a sound unlike any of his former kin’s inhuman footsteps echoed through the ruins, sharp blue eyes and a ready quantum arrow trained upon the intruder.

@lunaetis liked.

[lt-archived]

following the updated lore on amphoreus, ajax's verse has been changed from the prince's vanguard, to a former king's vanguard. when ajax caught wind of what the kremnos council was attempting to do with nikador's divine body, he was one of the first subjected to the black tide's wrath, undergoing the horrific transformation into a titankin, an alternate form of the furiae archer. having stubbornly managed to keep his will, ajax has spent centuries fighting back other titan kin order to protect the state of the divine statues that house nikador's courage, honour, tenacity, sacrifice. not only fighting off titankin, but anyone else who attempted to reach that chamber, including nikador's reason. the black tide still partially consumed him, giving way to chaos. only upon nikador's slaying, the marble rubble of his immortal body has begun to shed, nanook's gaze lingering behind the shroud of fuli, and giving him the power of destruction.

now, ajax attempts to adjust to a world centuries in the future from when he was transformed, all the while attempting to hide his status as a partially reanimated titankin.

[altarfates]

How long had it been since Lu Guang could differentiate the wisps of those hollow echoes, exhaustion, fatigue, begging him in earnest to relinquish his desperate hold on the past and present if only for a moment of actual respite. It isn’t that he does not recognize the dull, incessant pulse ushered in alongside the receding hum of adrenaline when their sneakers finally collide with asphalt for the last time, nor the receding ties of disquiet that were tethered to a mission they’d taken on that left an emotion toll on the both of them. They had seemingly coalesced into these long, unbearable hours residing between the tenebrous dusk and the first resplendent shafts of dawn. The inability to sleep inevitably arose when his senses were sharply attuned to the other, as if his existence persisted as an extension of his own, his feet only ever treading cautiously in the shadow of Cheng Xiaoshi’s. This, this is different, because when they are this close, when he can feel the undulating heat that emanates from him caressing the notches of his spine, he feels, for the first time in such a long time, that he could consider relenting into the serene silence of sharing this moment with him. It’s selfish, reckless, something that requires no true deliberation because he’s etched every rendition of these moments into the fragments of his soul, being this close to someone who he cares for so devastatingly. If he mustered the resolve could he not roll over and face him, reaching out as if it were an indulgence he had earned by wading through the mires of adversity. Because he has tirelessly devoted himself to memorizing the nuances of Cheng Xiaoshi he can tell when a nightmare washes over him, viscous, dark tides threatening to disgorge themselves into his lungs and jostle him awake choking, gasping, his cheeks pallid and sweat slicking his skin. It settles beneath the other’s skin like a visceral unease, something he cannot quite dispel, is that the reason they navigate this quiet, intimate conversation clumsily, uncertain where to gain a steady foothold. 

“ … we shouldn’t.” it’s too much, as if Lu Guang was splitting himself open and dreading the moment where he might be found unsightly, knowing that Cheng Xiaoshi respected his boundaries, that he would not press incessantly against his healing wounds, certain his friend, Lu Guang, was merely someone who regarded the world through a meticulously curated distance. Expressive in his own ways, obvious in his own ways, not always wholly accommodating for how others wanted him but a good guy, when it came down to it. “ you won’t be sleeping if we talk now.” the somnolent reprimand falls softly, resisting the urge to straight his back as the other’s forehead rests indolently between his shoulder blades. He cannot quite banish the rightness of it, that closeness, the sort of touch that trespasses beyond the boundary of friendship and into something else, something that could become dangerous if he allowed it.

For once, where Lu Guang would have served at the navigator, in incorporeal hand pressed to Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulder and guiding him through the past, it is him who directs this conversation back to something safer. It’s brings him quiet relief, because he does not know when he might stop if he were permitted to finally release his tenacious hold on all that was spilling from between his firmly clasped fingers. “ I can tell.” Lu Guang says this with utter certitude, as if he were viewing it from above them, seeing the way those heavy-lidded eyes bore into the nap of his neck. There were many things Lu Guang could tell when it came to him … because it was him. “ I don’t need my powers for something like that.” an electric thrill burgeons from the places his fingertips idly touch, his elbow, he felt that, conveying no reluctance as Cheng Xiaoshi seeks to bring them closer; if that were even possible. “ they’re open.” because he was relishing this moment, desperately, senselessly, wishing it would remain suspended in time, that he could keep this for himself. 

[lt-archived]

“ they’re open. ” he acquiesced, more meaning in those words than he could ever hope to convey. lu guang was the first thing he saw once he woke, the last thing on his mind before he slept. in a reality so fraught with horrid unknowns, and paths that so often led into a spiralling abyss, to have a guiding light like lu guang had transcended dives, had moved past each mission. what misfortunes would have befallen him had he not recognised the sure cadence of lu guang’s voice ? weaved the strings of fate in his favour, and led him back once more ? in any time, and any place, if he could not hear that gentle exhale, indulge in the barely there breath of amusement before his partner smiled, then this was not his reality. he’d reject it every time. “ let me watch a little longer. ” cheng xiaoshi breathed, sleepy, gentle stardust coating each word with the whispers of slumber. maybe he was drowsier than he had anticipated, but really who was to blame for that ? lu guang, with snowy hair and eyes in frame a chilly blue, was less tundra in these moments, and more the photo flare from the sun, like a guiding star. he was a tether, and it put his mind at ease to be near him.

an attempt to talk about lu guang’s troubles dissuaded. that wasn’t surprising. but he couldn’t help grasping like straws at attempts to hear his voice, even if it did keep the both of them awake longer. part of him lamented the idea of needing, wanted to be comforted over something as benign as a nightmare. weren’t they just that ? products of too many late night shows or sketchy internet articles. in the end, cheng xiaoshi was reluctant to admit the true source of these machinations ; that altering the past would result in a storm they couldn’t whether together. and so, despite trying to keep the mood safe, light, the thoughts tumble from his lips regardless, in clumsy confessions to his spine. “ i dreamt that you weren’t there when i came back. ” with it, the hold on lu guang’s form tightened, just that little bit, grounding, fearing that any second now he wouldn’t wake in the midst of another nightmare, that this wasn’t just some sweet delusion where both were safe and unharmed. once the words were out, it was hard for them to stop. “ it was like we had never met, but i could still remember you there like … ” a short careful breath, hesitant about further wrecking this peaceful night, but unable to stop himself. “ … like a part of me was missing. ”

he feared the uncanny nature of a life with lu guang in it, how to the undiscerning eye of the people in that dream, not much had changed but cheng xiaoshi’s life was irrevocably altered. he could still remember feeling his stomach drop, mid dive, unable to hear the sound of lu guang’s voice anymore, sweat beading, a cold chill down his own spine. contrast now to the other’s even breaths, the warmth of his skin, this comforting familiar scent. what he would give to stay here in this moment together, following the wisps at lu guang’s nape, watching dust through the sky light lit up by the moon. desperately he wanted to know what lu guang was thinking, leaning back ever so slightly, head partially sunk into his own pillow. it had been a minute movement, and yet he yearned again for that tiny touch of skin on skin. cheng xiaoshi’s hand curled in on itself, a pathetic attempt to risk temptation ( he would fail, as he always would when it came to lu guang. ) “ so just … let me stay here a little longer. ” in this moment, in his space. where it has always been safe and warm. where i have always been at home.

[ellphon]

Abyss prince Kaeya

The last post had my watermark cut off, pain. Here's a repost of the full image ;;

My insta is @_ellphon (´ ∀ ` *)