#sweepingthunder

[immovablewill]

[LIFT]: sender gently cups the receiver's face and lifts their chin so the receiver is looking up at them.

Calloused pads find comfort in the warm, reddened cheeks of a fellow general. A deep, relieved breath, eyes scanning over the rest of her calmly. "You're going to be alright. Just breathe. Just breathe." He offers in a hushed tone. "Don't look down, don't look at yourself, just focus, okay?" Despite the searing heat of pooled blood, there was only so much they could do as they waited for help.

"Hey, Sara, you said? Keep your eyes up here. Just look up at that, okay?" He coos, adjusting to keep her head propped up on folded calves. Letting one go to point onwards, the setting sun would be their blanket. Orange fading into pink, melting into each other and casting shadows all around. Stars began to dot the sky as the warmth slowly left them. "You're going to be okay, so just don't close your eyes, Kujou Sara." Finally, his head hands, looking over the girl. The hand remaining presses a little harder to her cheek, cradling her while the other brushes some matted hairs from a sticky forehead.

"You're stronger than you know. Just keep your eyes open..." His smile was so calm despite the subtlest quiver in his voices. In the distance, footsteps, voices calling out for any who needed their aid, yet he did not speak, too afraid that should he look away, she would slip from his grasp.

⁀➴ REASONS TO CUP A FACE. tw: character death

Allow her to share a secret: unsurprisingly, Sara liked to think she was alright with it.

If this was to be the price for peace—if it meant no more lives shall be lost, no more blood to dye the earth red—then Sara could accept such a hollow, empty end. So let her bleed into the dirt, her body broken, her breath shallow and torn. Let the weight of her limbs drag her down like lead. As long as it meant that she had served her purpose, then she would gladly die alone, with nothing but the silence and the fading drum of her own heart as company.

Allow her to share another secret: surprisingly, Sara couldn’t help the way tears immediately gathered in her eyes the moment she heard the general’s voice, his hold warm against her skin, his voice a much needed distraction for what was to come.

He tells her a wonderful lie.

That she will be alright. That she is going to be okay, and that she is much stronger than she thinks. Sara does not mean to think of him a liar, and oh how she wanted to believe him so, but the ground beneath her is already damp with her own blood, seeping into the earth like an offering. What’s more telling is how her pain has long become a distant thing now, muffled beneath the weight of exhaustion. And yet—

His touch feels so warm against her cheek, his voice soothing, the sky above them a beautiful shade of blue, purple, and pink.

Sara wishes to curse him for it. For making her hesitate. For making her want.

His lie had been wonderful, yes, but Sara wanted to believe she’d been prepared for the truth.

Allow her to share one last secret:

Maybe, just maybe, Sara’s not ready to leave after all. And Archons, she didn’t mean for that broken sob to wrench itself from her throat at the realization, didn’t mean for her tears to fall like this, such a mess and shameful against her cooling skin.

How bitterly amusing it is—that after her proud declarations, death should frighten her so. That a woman who, for as long as she could remember, wandered this world with nothing but her god’s will as company, should now cling so desperately for life. Were he here, her false father would have mocked her for showing such weakness, and Sara, in turn, would simply accept it.

The world is so, so quiet now. She sees Jing Yuan's lips move, but she hears nothing.

Not that it matters anymore, a small, tired smile curling from the corner of her lips as she searches for the general’s hand with her own.

One final secret, then:

In the end, Sara lets herself believe him.

That everything will be alright. That she’ll open her eyes again to find that she is whole and okay.

Just for a moment.

Just until the dark takes her.

[dellarosula]

Teehee

14. A kiss to the stomach // um. it's not suggestive i'm just shy

It's not so compromising a position, not really.

Navia's head lolls back against the general's thigh, eyes shut to the late afternoon sun that warms her cheeks. It's comfortable, quiet-- nothing but the lazy chatter of birds and the gentle snore of her pillow. Only does she realize a heartbeat later that the latter has gone quiet. One eye cracks open, met with glittering citrine.

"Have a nice nap?"

The corners of her lips curl, amused. Where one might elect to get up, however, Navia merely rolls over. A hand to either side of his lap, her legs strewn behind her. It's an affectionate gesture, a brush of her lips to the line of his jaw, a breath of laughter to trail the sensation down his throat and to his collar. Then, as though she cannot stand it, a fit of giggles to send her falling back into the comfort of his lap.

Because there is certainly a world of things that demand her attention, and there's no doubt the same could be said of him. Because there are a dozen things that might be done in the five minutes more she wishes to ask of him.

And because she knows he will grant them despite it.

Cheek pressed to thigh, Navia peers up at him a moment longer. Deliberates for just one last second, then sighs. To the warmth of his abdomen, she presses her nose and then her lips-- a fleeting, lazy affection.

Then, muffled: "A little longer won't hurt..."

[jadeshielded]

I am content with either platonic or romantic kisses, so may DM be the decider.

7. Romantic Kiss (it literally decided for me)

Venturing to the Guyun Stone Forest…

Battle does not scare me… and so, it didn’t. Like many things in such…historied places, Jing Yuan’s words echoed briefly before the sandy shoals answered the challenge, some simmering darkness that pushed the hilichurls into a vicious frenzy.

The man worked efficiently, the heavy weapon arcing with a precision and grace that many of the most skilled adeptus would find difficult to match. “Hm…” He shifted, leaving his hands at his sides as he stepped forward, toward the skirmish that ended even before he could step over and offer aid. “I am fortunate to have you by my side,” An easy admission, though his eyes shift from consideration to amusement, searching and then all too bright as he went, “You may call me Zhongli. I am a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Though in my spare time I do enjoy recalling what history I do know.”

An easy enough explanation for Zhongli to pause in their pursuit of safety, sweeping a gloved hand toward jagged edges of stone as they erupted from the water. “It is said that the impact of even one of Rex Lapis’ lances raised mountains from the sea while simultaneously shattering them on impact.” Osial had been a difficult foe to target. The consistent threat of being pulled under so ever-present that Zhongli skirted the reaching water even now, lest the leftover force of Osial’s spite bubble forward. “The Archon War produced many challenges, though…this battle is known as one of the most arduous, claiming victory only by pinning the god to the ocean floor and sealing him away.”

More enemies meet them on their way up the mountain, summoning his weapon to aid Jing Yuan as a gesture of good will – the man certainly didn’t need his help (Zhongli told him as much, grinning despite how he twisted away from a heavy-handed axe, spearing the unfortunate foe through the chest). It simply meant their trek took less time, finding the convenient alcove on the side of the largest formation, where the smooth, perfectly polished rock could shield them from the wind and water intent to kill from the chill alone. “A warrior’s respite.” Is all he could offer here, calling his element to shift their enclosure so that the moon would give light when it was appropriately overhead.

If only it were that simple.

The day slipped by, Zhongli offering snacks from his bag, eyes on the water as it grew choppy, wind whipping so violently that the stone shelter groaned around them.

He had not lied about this place, that people often reported odd feelings or even hallucinations of that final battle. Some so vividly detailed that Morax believed them, after all. What he’d failed to mention, was that the weight of that burden seemed amplified with his proximity. A beacon that the old God could not help but respond to even now, even without a shred of divinity shaking through him, Zhongli could feel the drum of an ancient heartbeat reaching out for him.

“Jing Yuan,” With purpose, Zhongli turned to him, mind made now that there were whispers beginning to creep towards them. Real, blistering emotion, and their small haven didn’t allow for much space between them, but he pressed forward still, careful as his tone lost its softness. “Through my work, I have knowledge of…certain seals of protection to be laid on an individual. I regret the necessity, but I believe it to be in our best interests.”

It was all the warning he could give, tracing the line of his jaw before leaning forward to taste the line of his lips. What choice did he have, he reasoned, given the malicious intent growing thicker around them by the second? If not for Zhongli’s power, then for the power that Jing Yuan had only begun to demonstrate. He was no longer a god, the crawl of his adeptal energy so much more difficult to attune these days, and even moreso as he remembered to let his eyes close as the amber glow rooted there began to shimmer on pale skin.

Protection spells were commonplace, but there was nothing quite as potent as the wish to protect a lover, born from fragile, romantic intent. He hummed through it, one hand seated in soft hair while the other trailed a delicate line over soft, well-made fabrics unprotected by armor. ‘I want to protect this person’ He thought, warmth spreading between them. Tricky, as he did not know this man, not really - though the ease of his steps, the gentle lilt of his voice, his strength in battle – all easily recognizable as someone who many likely believed to be easy to love.

With his adeptal protection sigil all but branded on the man’s skin, the volatile energy outside, the whispers, the searing cold fade as if physically repelled. Zhongli breathed a sigh, relief against the cold a boon on his mortal form. “Well done.” He said, and it was well worth it anyway to simply save them both from relieving the battle between himself and Osial with crystal clarity. All considering, a kiss and a spell were much easier things to explain.

[voidrifter]

@sweepingthunder asked:

[STUNT DOUBLE] "Now I do actually think, if people squint, I can pass for her. However..." he starts, "and I don't mean this in the wrong way. There is nothing wrong with it." Standing beside Kiana, there is one... very glaring issue. Of course, they had different builds, and his hair was far more messy, but these things could be remedied with makeup, or with the perspective. But the one main issue, one that they could deny no longer: Kiana is small. Jing Yuan practically cast a shadow over the young girl when the stage light shined down on them. The height difference, regardless of distance, would no doubt he hard to cover up. "I am very tall. Are you sure you want me to be your double? Look at her, she's rugged and can do her own stunts."

In utter disbelief at the suggestion, Kiana finds she's not sure what to do other than blink incredulously at the assistant that has herded them onto the set together. She would blink incredulously at him, the guy speaking her exact thoughts aloud, but she values her neck.

"Uh, yeah... No offense, really, sir. Your build is," oh, there's really no way to finish that sentence without being weird, Kiana coughs, "impressive, but-"

Really, she isn't that small. It's not her fault that the largest man alive got picked for the part of, well, her. Anyone would look small next to him, seriously.

"Yeah, I think I'm good to do it myself."

[huuuugestmoney]

((♡ You know I had to do it to 'em

[ kiddo meme ] main thoughts:

-hair floof is a Must -diamond pupil -you know that wanderlust jing yuan sometimes shows? well this fella ain't beholden to all of jing yuan's responsibilities so... he's gonna go see the world. maybe bring some stories back to live through by proxy. -a bit of a freer spirit i think, the rules and discipline required of cloud knights and so on within the xianzhou turned out to be a poor fit. maybe does some mercenary work or so on later-- might even lead a small company? decent business sense for it at the least. will never, ever allow himself to be stiffed. -can be downright intimidating when he chooses to be weheh -pretend there's a big fkoff pauldron on the screen-left shoulder i Tried and tried and it wasn't workin aaaaaaa

[octoboltflash]

[MAKE-A-MELUSINE]

As Jing Yuan continues to press the peddle, stuffing fills the Melusine plushie. Limbs spring out, it's head stands straight, and it's legs flop out, sturdier than just a few minutes ago. Then, to be dressed: a little bandana, an eyepatch, and a vest. A pirate, one that looks far too cute to possibly be intimidating. After purchasing, he would approach the rather stoic woman.

"Here, I got this for you. I don't think you're really the kind of girl who likes plushies, but you seemed so miserable and confused. I hope you can find it in yourself to enjoy the festivities."

The look on her face is one of absolute confusion as the plush is offered to her-- this creature is rather adorable, but... Did he just call her 'miserable' and 'confused'?! She blinks once, then twice. Acheron's mouth remained slightly agape, her stare blank as violet eyes focus on the toy in her hands. The invitation was nice, but... ".... Miserable?" Her voice remained low, barely audible over the clamor of people around them. Another moment passed before she managed to snap herself out of her trance, finally glancing up at the unfamiliar face before her. "... Thank you. I'm simply trying to find my bearings. This is all new to me-- I appreciate your gift, I'll be sure to keep it close."

[immovablewill]

Here comes the General (Rise up).

⁀➴ Kiss Roulette ! 15. A kiss along the hips

ー injury, mayhaps character death, self-sacrifice

Her vision swims, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she trudges forward—past the countless bodies, enemies and allies alike—with only but a single, desperate purpose in mind: General Jing Yuan.

Like a fool, she had celebrated too soon. The moment she caught sight of the general among the volunteers, joy and pride bloomed in her chest, warm and unchecked. With him, she thought, victory against the denizens of the abyss should be swift, inevitable. She had seen him fight, after all—had admired his strength within that odd, vivid dream they’d shared.

What she did not expect was the chaos that came after. The cries of the wounded. The smoke and dust in the air. The once green field now slick with blood and ruin.

Her heart, so full of hope moments ago, only sinks further when she finally finds him slumped against a shattered pillar, his white uniform now ruined and stained with blood. Gone is his usually composed smile, replaced instead with a pained, pale face, his breathing shallow as his hand clutches weakly at his wound.

Archons, the sight of him like this—not unlike what she once saw in their dream—is almost enough to render her motionless, the weight of dread and guilt crashing over her like a cruel wave.

Hurriedly, Sara rushes to his side and positions herself over him, her wings—already so battered and torn—fanning out to shield them both from any incoming attacks. Arrows cruelly rain down around them, some piercing through her feathers and embedding themselves into her wings, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t mind. Doesn’t hurt. What happens to her matters very little, her hands trembling as she assesses his injuries.

Her vision blurs with unshed tears as another arrow pierces her wings, but she continues inspecting Jing Yuan’s wound; so deep that it refuses to stop bleeding, no matter how much pressure she applies. He’s pale—gods, how can someone get so pale?

“Hold on, General. Stay with me,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she presses her hands firmly against the wound, her own blood mixing with his as her own ignored wounds continue to bleed freely.

She thinks she hears him speak, or perhaps it was just her imagination. Still, what matters most, right now, is that she cannot let him slip away. Not when she’s already failed him before. Not when she’s finally found someone who once believed in her strength.

Ah, would that she could take his place instead. Take all of his wounds for herself, bleed for him, die for him—she would, without hesitation. How is it, that it’s always her who gets to live?

In a moment of pathetic desperation, Sara leans down, her lips brushing against the bloodied fabric of his armour before she presses a soft, lingering kiss to his injured hip. A hopeless act born of instinct, of a need to soothe, to comfort, to remind him that he’s not alone. Or is she reminding herself, instead? Her lips tremble against his skin as she whispers a prayer—a plea to her Shogun, to any Archons, any god or force that might be listening—to let him survive. To let him live. To take her instead, for no one would miss her as much as many others would miss him.

Please.

Her wings shudder as another arrow finds its mark, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t falter. She stays there, shielding him with her body, her wings, her very being.

Please.

[herrschicken]

@sweepingthunder asked:

[JADE MYSTERY] While he did not fancy himself a gambler, Jing Yuan was not one to back out of a fun game. The man who offered could most likely be considered just above a snake oil salesman, but what is the new year if not a new risk? While several had come and gone, none of which capable of guessing the correct jade, surely that was just a matter of luck. The rocks were identical from a glance, only different in their natural shape, though even such an assumption could lead to his own demise. With a finger on his chin, eyes narrow. A line had begun to build behind the old man, waiting impatiently for Jing Yuan's guess. Yet it would not even be his own. Looking back to the woman behind him, waiting very impatiently, he would motion for her to come near. "You there, come here. You want a wager, no? That's the whole reason we are all here?" A smirk, pulling the Herrscher of Sentience in to investigate the three jade. "What do you think? Any differences you see?" It was his money, not her own, so theoretically she could completely mislead the man. If only he had accounted for this...

lantern rite !

Senti instantly threw up her hands. “Why does it matter!” she shouted, wrenching the attention of bystanders behind them. That was how she felt about gambling on jade throughout the entire festival. It felt like no matter how many times she hit that wall, she just couldn’t bounce back. Part of her had believed that jade wasn’t even real–or that it at least didn’t exist in Liyue–but then she’d see someone walking around with it laden in earrings or dangling from their wrist, and she’d go scrounging for mora again, thus restarting the machine. 

That is all to say: whether it was with Jing Yuan’s or not, Senti was not gambling her own money.

“Every time, I go broke. Tch. It’s like he knows how badly I wanna win. I bet he swaps the stones out whenever I step up to the stall.” Crossing her arms and making a pouty face at Shitou, she did just that. Her eyes glazed over his before landing on the items in question. “Don’t look away, Geezer. Don’t even blink. I bet he’ll take away the jade one now that I’m helping.” 

Her nose got closer to him. Too close. Poor Shitou didn’t know what to say the whole while either–just laughed and put his hands to his chest defensively. Without breaking eye contact, Senti selected a stone. “This one.” It was smaller than the rest. Definitely less round, too. Unremarkable to the untrained eye, and for anyone fishing for something big, not sizable enough even if it was jade. “But I swear-” she made the remark through gritted teeth, “-if this one wins, I’m flipping this stupid thing over!!” 

Ordinarily, breaking rock required precision instruments. Water was a component of the process, as was a saw wielded by an expert’s hand. But Senti was impatient, and her trust at an all time low. So instead, she sought to break the rock herself, hitting it against the stall until pieces of pebble flecked away. One-by-one they broke, and with each little bit she got closer to the core, the gazes of the audience closed in. Finally, a crack echoed throughout the air. With a last smack, the stone gave way…

…and a shimmer, like the ocean’s blue, shone through underneath.