flowering,

under reconstruction divergently, wholeheartedly, passionately. private rp.

[gggno]

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees / for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.   —  mary oliver, wild geese.    

//    independent multimuse roleplay, including ROSARIA & other muses from GENSHIN IMPACT and various fandoms. written by jan ( she / they ), 30+.

[outwards]

(sound of my bloodshot eyes snapping open) albedo birth again in 4 days

[outwards]

@heartsealed asked: "A - Ah! Are you okay? That looked like it hurt a lot , here let me look at it ---" (from kuroko, to any muse!! <;3)

"uu... u-uu... owwie.... i wanna go home..." she tries to swallow her hiccup and only half succeeds. adding insult to injury is the tear in her new dress, splitting from the hem like a jagged grin. anya had not anticipated an older girl to rush to her aid, but as it stands--

"huh?" another hiccup. she pauses, processes the words as she gulps down her own ones, and then anya pushes out her knee with a wobble.

[homuras]

the many faces of anya ～

[outwards]

cyno-oh​:

“None of this is your fault,” he reassures, affirms in the event it is not abundantly clear.

The slow spread of a grin that blooms across Tighnari’s face quells Cyno’s most immediate worries. Incidents of this nature are standard in the General Mahamatra’s line of work, however usually their roles are reversed and he feels no small amount of contrition for the fact he cannot do more for his friend.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali was witness to his departure from Sumeru. I’ve since advised her that the Harbinger be put under strict surveilance should he ever solicit re-entry. Our Archon will know the minute he sets foot in this land and has given her word she will inform me.” Tighnari is essentially a civilian that should never have been in the line of fire. “I hope that will bring you some peace of mind.” 

“The symptoms of Eleazor patients in the city have practically vanished overnight. I came to check on her as well. Collei must have questions, but early results, as you know, can be inconclusive. Lesser Lord Kusanali believes it is related to The Withering being purged from Irminsul.”

At last, Cyno relaxes. His posture betrays a measure of weariness and comfort, a deameanor he does not wear around just anyone. These busy days have not passed by without taking their toll on him either. General Mahamtra is not the only one who has stepped up to fill in positions and duties left behind by the Sages who had shown themselves unfit for them. Mornings consist of bickering between Kaveh and Alhaitham, and occasionally even Cyno has been guilty of losing his own patience. It is alone by Lesser Lord Kusanali’s good will and intervention that they’ve accomplished as much as they have. 

“They say laughter is the best medicine. Should I tell you a joke?”

“i know,”  he answers, voice soft and not from lack of conviction. tighnari reaches out with the hand still in commission, the movement weary when he settles it upon cyno’s shoulder.  “so i trust you’ll be just as fair to yourself.”

what a thing to say to the general mahamatra—to speak so casually of fairness, to pose the risk of looking fussy. it would not be the first time. it would hardly be the last. but if there is one difficulty tighnari knows well, it is the weight of holding up a mirror in place of a magnifying glass—in place of a scale, in place of a staff. cyno is here, and so is tighnari. unforgettable of all is collei. they are alive; they are safe. tighnari's stare is pointed with kindness. do not blame yourself, either.

          "it certainly does. thank you. i can imagine that lesser lord kusanali must be relieved to have you by her side."  he is not another one to put words in their archon's mouth. however, this he knows to be fact: cyno is exceptional, uncontested in his loyalties, and what makes him twice as safe as it does lethal is that he is someone who knows where they lie.

the inevitable difference is made up in his jokes. they are enough to kill entire rooms at a time. tighnari drops his smile and hand in the span of a heartbeat, a most familiar skepticism hardening in their place.

          "... even if it comes with a steep cost,"  he simply has to finish. cyno's visits are never complete without a biteless jab. tighnari lets out a sigh more exaggerated than not.  "go on, then. but oh, please, don't whip out any of your 'best' ones until collei gets home. you've come all this way; we wouldn't want to deprive her, now would we?"

[gggno]

@outwards​ asked:

❛   i could list a hundred things i like about you, and i still wouldn’t have said anything.  ❜    rosacrose 😳

scientists, rosaria scoffs internally, always obsessed with proof. the sister wouldn’t call herself religious, but there is something about the faith believers put in their god that resonates with her. the lack of evidence, for one, that their god truly exists; whatever holy text they cite, it’s all conjecture and imagination. resolve for a second, paranoia for a third…

still, her contempt does not extend to sucrose. just because she’s a woman of impulse and intuition doesn’t mean she has to refute the alchemist’s empirical approach.

              “ then you don’t have to say anything, ” rosaria reaches over, cold silver claws brushing away a strand of hair. perhaps in her persistence, sucrose has already proven her feelings to be true. “ i believe you, you don’t have to convince me. ”

[outwards]

talking is hard. feelings, even more so. she is already scrambling, tripping over herself for words when rosaria punctuates sucrose in one touch. the cool silver jolts up the hairs on her neck, shoots down her spine and pools back in her gut. maybe it is just cryo. maybe it is more. part of her is terrified to find out—terrified, breathless, and so, so curious. sucrose's gaze wavers, avoidant as usual under any fleck of scrutiny, but the warm wonderment in it cannot lie for a second.

"o-oh, is that— is that so... that's... good," she finishes pathetically. just like that, rosaria accepts her. rosaria does not need a thousand words and meticulous explanations. it still takes some getting used to, for somebody like sucrose, but that is by no means an unwelcome development.

"because... i like you," she ventures, voice shrinking all the while—like she is giving rosaria an out, like she is saying it is fine not to hear her. "a... a lot..."

like it is fine not to hear her, and yet. slowly, shyly, sucrose lifts her hand, gingerly taking rosaria's fingers in it.

"that's okay with you, right..?"

[gggno]

@outwards​ asked:

❛   i will choose you, over and over again. i will always choose you.  ❜    zweicrose

“ why would you? ” 

the question leaves his lips the way light escapes containment — unstoppable and irrevocable. what he asks is purely rhetorical: there are far better options out there, and zwei is not even self-abased.

no matter the method, nature cannot be altered by synthesisation — for the time he has spent with sucrose and the numerous experiments he had taken part in, this is the one thing he learnt. his manners, too, have improved. albedo is to thank for that. in no way belittling, he looks sucrose in the eyes and speaks again.

“ i know you’ve been trying to convince me otherwise since the beginning but it doesn’t matter anymore. i know who i am, and i’m at peace with my nature. ” glancing down at his gloved hands, he can feel the need for chaos humming beneath his skin. mondstadt has one albedo already. they don’t need a counterfeit double. 

“ mistake or not, i was born this way. and i’m tired of fighting it. whether you choose me or not will not change that. ”

[outwards]

why, he asks, and why indeed. it is the golden question, born where life began, timeless and hungry for all that exists. sucrose is a scientist. 'why' is the foundation of her work.

they were supposed to discover it together. his answer hits her by the horns, tightens her chest. she had come to meet his eyes a little more each day—but he looks at her now and suddenly she is tiny again, ears pinned flat against her head, her gaze widening then falling in that order.

maybe it has always been her own selfishness speaking. she cannot force that on him. why would you, he asks so genuinely, and even that answer is selfish: because it's you, zwei. and who is zwei?

sucrose does not answer that question, nor the one he asks. her voice is quiet, nearly inaudible when she finally speaks up.

"... then... what is it that you want to do?" she stares at a spot on the ground. she is tired, too. not of him, though—never of him. "leave?"

[lucylee158]

Family dinner time

[outwards]

the very first thought that had formed in anya forger's mind was that this middle-aged man looked like a giant chocolate bar.

bond is still nowhere to be found. peanut rations are drastically low. perhaps the hunger has begun impairing her cognition. had he not spoken right then, starlight anya might have risked taking a chomp out of his sleeve.

"but anya heard the people talking about baba's toes and freeing. then anya thinks she heard some other people say you're baba. that means this mister chocolate baba lost his toes," a stubby index finger points from zhongli's head to his luxurious hooves. the other hand hangs heavy with her magnifying glass, the lens of which has caught onto a sunbeam. refracted light—colloquially put, a worker ant's nightmare—it hits the grass, and within seconds a tiny fire starts at her feet. / @geostar, cont.

[outwards]

🍄 * @cyno-oh​​ asked:  The forest never sleeps. Cyno and Tighnari belong to the jobs and routines they have performed for years now. Avidya Forest's revered guardian does likely not take time off work for even his own birthday because, akin to the duties Cyno takes upon himself as General Mahamatra, it is a labor of love for the both of them. Cyno has never been the type of man that fashions excuses in order to visit an old friend and in turn Tighnari tolerates his impositions with minimal complaints. Collei was not the first in their long history, but he can think of no other instance for which he is more grateful. The most effective professors are gardeners first who know each species has unique needs. (Since his school years, Tighnari has possessed all the makings of a sage, lacking only in greed for the prestige such a position promised.)

Cyno takes his obligations seriously, observing all ritual to the letter of the law with the attentiveness of a high priest during ceremony. Birthdays, however, do not come with a prescribed list of instructions detailing how to be carried out successfully. There will be no extensive explanation for the gift he offers, not a single word of his correspondence with a certain Traveler or the bargain he'd struck with an elderly man to part with this rarity. These are not matters he wants Tighnari to be concerned with.

He does not invite himself inside immediately despite having every inch of the room memorized. At this hour, he doubts Tighnari has completed his rounds and Cyno hardly wishes to be a distraction. Outside he waits with his arms crossed and head ducked into the cover of his hood. When Collei arrives instead it is still within his expectations, but he notices other effects that manage to surprise him slightly. The familiar table she offers him a seat at holds two cups - perfectly matched - before she clears them away and gestures for him to set down the package in his arms.

Eventually, Tighnari joins them after Cyno has asked Collei of a great many things from her studies to plans for the future. And while Collei's own birthday is several months away, he presents her with some academic titles that would be difficult to get her hands on otherwise.

"Nari," he addresses once all equipment has been stored in its proper place and Tighnari settles into a leaf-backed chair as well. "To the North of Aaru Village, I met a man who had cultivated golden roses. They unfortunately cannot thrive outside the desert. Although using techniques you showed me in the past, I preserved three to the best of my ability. The seeds are intact, but I imagine even you will encounter difficulty in trying to achieve favorable results. This man devoted much of his life to accomplishing that task. Regardless, you should do with them as you please." He pauses, solemn. "I'm rooting for you. Happy Birthday."

today is my birthday, and i should have invited my friends over for dinner.

— but unfortunately, reads his letter to the traveler in neat block letters, i have accepted amurta's invitation to give a series of talks scheduled on these days, and i can't back out of that.

tighnari pads back into the perimeter of gandharva ville, bow and quiver more slack over his shoulder than he had worn them upon departure—the tell-tale epilogue of another day's work, a false breath of finality until dawn broke again. they are their own people with realistic lives to live. the world around them does not stop spinning for something as arbitrary as a calendar date; time does not skid and stop on its heels, though tighnari always wishes it did, for the three of them.

maybe it does not need to. maybe this is the next best thing. not two steps down the bridge and a breathless chuckle leaves him, realization blooming across his features. his pace does not stutter, but skips half a beat faster, eyes snatching their light right out of the stars. collei's voice comes first if only for how much less cyno speaks in comparison, but neither of the two can elude him. tighnari's tail swishes; the hut grows larger in sight. soon enough the familiar adhigama wood door swings into honeyed warmth.

"i'm home," tighnari calls to them. home.

collei's pleased note carries down the hall. neither collei nor cyno stand on ceremony—theirs is a comfortable routine, seldom as it occurs, steady as his beating chest and certain as the lichtenbergs marring it. tighnari shrugs off his gear. he replaces it on its proper mount one piece at a time, unrolls one last knot in his shoulders, then moseys on over to the source of light chitchat. before he finishes seating himself at the table, he is able to put two and two together: cyno and collei, books and a package. tighnari has half a mind to tease them about the visit, but it is quickly overridden by the other half that deems there are more worthwhile things at stake than looking cool on his birthday. besides, realizes tighnari, the good general himself has something to say first; and the only time cyno disappoints is when he is delivering a punch line.

which, fairly enough, does not come until the very end of his spiel. tighnari had blinked wide at the description of his gift, gaze casting briefly over the parcel—he did not need to glance at collei to know she shared his inquisitive expression—before he set his bewilderment back upon cyno.

"it's my birthday, and you come in our house with a challenge? not to mention another dreadful joke," tighnari chides with retracted fangs and a theatrically raised brow. in any case the scolding belies his undeniable smile. it grows across his face by the second, spreading before it spills over to a laugh; one that crinkles his eyes, all mirth and unspoken gratitude.

"you really must take me for a gardener," his voice softens, airy still. those words carry more weight than tighnari fears he may be worth. "that's one rose for each of us, hm?"

still, who would he be today if he never chose to try? where would they—the three of them—be now? would time still have stopped for tighnari in this small place, would he be able to turn his head and look at collei like this, would he ever have a reason to keep three pillows and plates in a hut made for one?

"if you're trusting me with such an arduous responsibility, then i'll do my best to trust your reasons. on one condition, of course: you'll have to keep visiting to see how these roses are growing. i'm all ears if there's something i could be doing better. i'm not a miracle worker, you know. but, with you... with collei..."

he hopes they will never realize how afraid he is. out of all the things the world has to fear, tighnari is most afraid of how much they believe in him. their belief; it is powerful, it is terrifying, it is light, it is love, it is everything. there is no doubt about it: they are everything. tighnari's thumb brushes the package like a butterfly wing.

"thank you for the gift, and for going out of your way to visit. i'll give them everything i have, so both of you need to make sure to watch them bloom with me."

[outwards]

tighnari birthday countdown

[outwards]

WWOOOOOO YEAHHHHH WWOOOOOOO NARI BDAY COUNTDOWN WOOOOOOO

[outwards]

DONT TOUCH ME IM SO FRAGILE IM SO NORMAL IM SOOOO NORMAL IM SOUser outwards has been limited. Tumblr rate limits users who

[outwards]

"m-me?" caught off-guard, her hands stutter in their quest for the kamera. sucrose manages to rummage through her belongings and retrieve it nevertheless. "i'm... i'm not particularly photogenic, but..."

but kanna has always been difficult to refuse. sucrose's ears flick once, cheeks and chest warming in that kind cradle of camaraderie; kanna has her answer when sucrose dips her chin.

"then, if you don't mind..." a bit of fine-tuning with her fingers and the kamera is set, adjusted to a proper angle. one of her lenses lightly bumps against the scope when sucrose puts an eye to it—a habit that followed her from her microscopes, too. "and afterwards, do you think we should ask somebody to take one with both of us in the photo?" / @heartsealed, cont.

[sasouken]

outwards liked ❀ for a specific starter call !

                                "well, i suppose we can do some more fish blasting if you’d like. we don’t have to be back for a bit longer… “ and what jean doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right? besides, he was here with klee. he’d be sure to keep her from danger.

[outwards]

"fish blasting! more fish blasting! hooray~!" hop, step, jump—mondstadt's spark knight skips merry circles around one of the only people who can handle her. "kaeya is the best!"

cute, one might think—and to be fair, she certainly is—but klee is not simultaneously harmless, so golden bass and hilichurls beware. she zooms down a slope in a blink, jumpty dumpties in hand, the pitter-patter of her tiny boots making a beeline for dawn winery. which may or may not become collateral for the fish south of it.

[touchofdawn-deactivated20240820]

@outwards || Continued from here

“Please, don't apologize. I appreciate your swift treatment,” Diluc reassured her as Sucrose began to gently bandage the site of his injury once more. As she worked and began to speak more on what progress she'd made thus far, he stayed dutifully still and listened carefully.

Though, he noted that she seemed... apprehensive. He supposed he couldn’t fault her for feeling some fear when he'd arrived in such a state for a second time.

“I see…” he answered, lifting one hand to his mouth in thought. If whatever had been injected into him by that monster contained a local Snezhnayan specialty, as well as something found during the Stormterror incident, the circumstances of his attack seemed to point to the Fatui. Though, he hesitated to state as much. The Abyss Order could very well be involved, given the relation to the Stormterror incident, but they’d have little reason to target Diluc specifically… Assuming, of course, the original attack was intentional and targeted.

What a headache…

He looked up when Sucrose seemed to startle and began rummaging around, as if something had only just occurred to her, and he watched as she quickly jotted down a list on a spare piece of paper. “Liyue?” he repeated with an inquisitive tilt of his head. “If these herbs are local, what do you need there?”

After a quick glance at her list, he looked back up at her again and nodded decisively. “Alright. When do we leave?" he said, standing up with a wince that he quickly covered with a mask of tired calm. "I can hardly allow you to make a trip like that on your own for my sake. Besides, if my condition worsens while you’re away, there would be no one to do what you’ve done for me tonight. I hate to think that I might lose control, as Stormterror did, but we can't rule out that possibility.”

…If only the Traveler was there. Perhaps, he thought, he could send a falcon to alert his network and ask them to search for the Traveler. After all, they purified Stormterror before. If it came down to it, they may be necessary to save Mondstadt once again… from him.

[outwards]

his voice and its reassurance hits her, quells some of the restlessness knotted in her stomach and shoulderblades. that's right, thinks sucrose—though it was not that she had ever doubted—this is the same diluc she had seen some nights ago, the very diluc who had reimbursed her for nominal supplies and a silly little duck. he is largely intimidating on a normal day, just like everybody else in her orbit, but he is also sitting in front of sucrose thanking her now for the second time. maybe she does not need to make herself so small. even the subject of liyue feels unfamiliar on her tongue, strange because she rarely shares anything of herself beyond her career—but she is nodding before she knows it, the words coming to her easily enough.

"it's in the harbor, so it's a larger and more resourceful pharmacy with all sorts of exports. you could almost say it's an apothecary's dream," she explains, "i'd like to examine the stock, and if opportunity allows… i was thinking, perhaps i'd ask my cousin for his opinion on some ingredient properties as a subject matter specialist."

she only hopes changsheng will not probe with too many questions. with lantern rite rounding the corner, though, perhaps she would even be fortunate enough to stumble across the traveler. that alone squashed her reservations about awkward family reunions and doubled the stakes of their trip. the traveler had played a monumental role in resolving the stormterror incident; furthermore, they had provided data at some point to albedo for research. amidst the recent work it was admittedly a prospect that had scratched the back of her mind—mondstadt's ace up the sleeve to consult again later—because surely they would not be opposed to assisting should their otherworldly powers be needed.

"as for when to set out, i'd hope for tomorrow morning. it's just that a cart is unfortunately out of the question." sucrose answers on autopilot and begins moving on it, too, deft hands assorting some provisions for the journey ahead. "i suppose that's what happens when the absent grandmaster insists on keeping every horse hostage."

she continues thinking aloud, twine in her fingers fastening together a week's worth of NRE units. chatting comes easier when she forgets others are listening. it also offers some glimpse of a more honest sucrose. "inefficiency trickles down the chain of command, funding gets cut, headaches multiply… but weather permitting, i'm sure it'll still only take—"

the last of her belongings, her green bedroll, slips out of her hands. sucrose squeaks, fumbles with it in the air before clasping it back into her arms; she hugs it tight to her chest as she spins back around to diluc, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose and leaving behind two huge eyes. "w, we?"

we. as in both of them. as in diluc is standing up to volunteer himself, and sucrose is rushing back with a shaky but master diluc tumbling from her lips as if she could insist otherwise—

"you don't have to! y-your condition, it's— i really couldn't ask you to push yourself," sucrose stammers, but is loath to admit that diluc may have a point. as little as she thinks of herself, and as much as she wants to sing lisa's or albedo's praises, there is no guarantee for what might happen or where they would be.

all it takes is another look at diluc. this argument is an uphill battle and her shoulders sag knowing it. "… all of that… well…"

sucrose lets her gaze drop back to the bedroll.

"then, ah… if… if you could please go ahead and get some rest… i'd like to start making ground tomorrow morning, if that's alright?"

please oversleep, please forget, a tiny voice peeps in her mind—to which the logical part of her squashes with, fat chance.

perhaps it would be for the best. she would be there in case he fell ill. he would be there in case she fell into a geovishap nest. (what was the worst that could happen?)

[outwards]

🌻⚗️ * fluffy winter prompts. @babatoes asked: "oh.. there’s a mistletoe over your head." if albedo and sucrose were to look above they would see venti laying on a balcony floor, arm extended to hold the fated flower between them.

he must think himself cupid, almost dressed for the part. albedo shoots venti an unimpressed look while sucrose ducks her head, cupping her reddened cheeks.

"oh. you're drinking already, i take it?" albedo dryly quips, suffering a tug to the arm coupled with a scandalized gasp from sucrose.

"albedo," she chides through her teeth. he meets her with a nonchalant tug at his lips.

what she does not expect is for him to beckon her closer, a single hand shielding the side of his mouth in secrecy, the other one brimming with geo at the fingertips. sucrose naturally follows his lead; all ears, as they say, when she tilts her head to listen.

the exchange is fairly brief. the flush on sucrose's face remains, but albedo must have whispered something amusing enough—her mouth curls with the tiniest smile. the two of them draw back momentarily. then the snap of albedo's fingers rushes an elemental current to their feet, forging a solar isotoma beneath the pair and subsequently elevating them.

its height is just enough for them to reach venti and his sprig of mistletoe, impish god that he is; and as they rise on either side of him, they inch back in for not one, but two kisses—a peck to each of venti's cheeks, his face caught between two alchemists and a sweet, silly loophole.

[outwards]

14 september. i'm a fucking clown

[poporo1102]

susbedo dorian weeee merry chrimas 🥳🥳