#taixuandream

[omnipicureans]

[S'MORES] - A classic treat, easily made in the bonfires that crop up as the sun begins to set, and perfect for sharing.

The night was winding down, and Fu Hua sat before a fire, a stick before the pit. As heat slowly enraptured the gooey marshmallow, she would hum. She was at peace. That was, until a familiar figure would drift closer out of the shadows.

"Who's there?" She called out, her tone rather sweet. "I'm just making some s'mores and uh, I've got more than enough to share, if you'd like to join me!" Despite all that had come before, that nerve in meeting someone new still managed to find itself tickling the end of each sentence. A soft sigh at the hesitation, before her eyes widened. The realization of who was approaching hit harder than any foe she'd ever faced.

"Aponia..." she whispered, her stick lowering closer to the bonfire. The golden goodness would burn over, blackened and charred like the wood fueling the flame. The state of her snack isn't on her mind, however. Her old friend is.

(Realizing that Fu Hua would probably have a breakdown at seeing any of the flame-chasers but like don't worry about it yk)

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄'𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇! ╱ ghsolstice prompts.

SIMULATIONS HAD NOT THE NECESSITIES OF HUMAN LIMITS, & thus, the drawl of shuddering wind across dark skies had not summoned forth the thought of retreating back home to unceremoniously end the night. or maybe, instead, the simple thought of having somewhere to retreat was the catalyst of discipline's aimless wandering. sand crushed beneath platformed sandals, moonlight caught between clasped hands, aponia walked & walked & walked until the shore was behind her wake——— hooded eyes glazed over with the barest flicker of fatigue ; THE FOREVER EMOTION TRAPPED BETWEEN THE BINARIES OF HER RIBCAGE, an immortal ghost of her humanity.

at least, in this, the mortal delight of watching setting suns & waking moons would be enjoyed, without the ignorance of pretending how numbers made up the sky & codes reflected the light cast upon her. that, as wispy as the breeze, followed the memory of companionship, a———

shy blue eyes blinked away the exhaustion, napping up at the direction of a stranger's voice. how far had she walked, aimless yet inevitably into the radius of another, more fortunate soul? lips pursed into the beginnings of a frown, TOO QUAINT TO MIMIC THE TRUTH OF A SCOWL, one she, herself, seemed incapable of creating. the greeting though was welcoming enough, & truth to the offer, it had been years since she had the luxury of a smore. ( what exactly that was, she seemed forgetful, but the smell of charring sugar shed a possible light on the sweet's making. )

❛ ah, you are too kind. i apologize for interrupting your peace. ❜ wandering feet set themselves forward to a destination, that beneath the brushes of foliage & into the clearing lit only by a pit of carefully tamed fire. pursed lips became that of a smile, gentle & appreciative, before her gaze finally reached the lady perched beside the flames. ❛ if you will allow me, then i will join you. i. . . ❜

FAMILIARITY GRASPED HER THROAT, & STRANGLED FORTH ANY UTTERANCE OF FURTHER EXPLANATIONS. the feeling was so sudden, so impossibly swift, discipline nearly split apart the fragment she stood as, a shock so utterly disobedient, her expression fell with an uncomfortable ease.

in contrast to herself, fu hua sat casually before her, though evidently not absent of a similar surprise as the disbelief that refused to release her. AGAINST ALL ODDS, FU HUA EXISTED. it was simply a strange oddity that she existed in front of discipline, of all ghosts.

her name fell softly from fu hua's lips, though she had yet to tear herself from the disbelief ; CONFUSED EYES MET THOSE OF A VIBRANT COLOR, so unlike the gaze she remembered, yet belonging to the memory as no other would. quiet, aponia uttered, ❛ fu hua. ❜ & said nothing else, simply to digest the name in full. discipline turned taut, then, once all was consumed. she straightened what had relaxed, pressed together lips that fell open, & changed all besides the tenderness of her gaze.

❛ . . . you are different. ❜ came, first, the obvious. second, followed the trail of her feet, guiding her forward until she stood closer, further into the light. in little time, such sternness softened. ❛ i am surprised, but cannot be anymore. you are a force of the untouchable, fu hua. ❜

( HAVE YOU MISSED ME AS I HAVE MISSED YOU? WHAT HAS BECOME OF YOU NOW, & DOES IT BEAR RESEMBLANCE TO THE REBIRTH OF MYSELF? WHAT HAS CHANGED BETWEEN US, OR HAS ANYTHING AT ALL?

[ . . . ] discipline remained silent of all inquiries, scripted only to the very moment it existed within. )

careful gaze flitted to the empty log beside her. an offer, a boundary, ❛ may i sit with you, still? ❜

[purerationality]

[SPARKLING WATER]

For all the lessons the Flame-Chasers taught to Hua, it still felt unnatural to float through crowded areas. For all the social outings and events the girls of St. Freya dragged her to, conversations of this kind always ended up disjointed in some capacity. For one that could say so much, the artificial nature of each greeting only served to alienate the woman more. Nobody here cared for her any more than to drag fingers through the tension, breaching but the surface of water. It wasn't impossible to navigate, just something to never be sought out.

Eventually, the sweet hymns of the band became quieter, drowned out as mind began to race. Steady, the conversation she was having dropped, wandering past denizens far more expensive than she could ever be. Even as shoulders bumped or backs were nudged, the crowded sea would part, torn open by the shock of yet another finding redemption in the vastness of the universe.

How familiar they felt, those features, from mauve eyes to locks of mulberry, the only distinguishing feature that set her apart was those rounded glasses. Wordlessly, she would come beside Dr. Mei, arms folding, the small of her back resting against the edge of the drink table. Not a glance is given, instead searching for the right thing to say.

"I want to be shocked that you're alive, Doctor. But all I seem to find at this point are ghosts of the Previous Era." Gaze falling to simple, grey boots, nice for her but not the occasion. "How are you here," too jaded to even feign shock at this point. For each step taken forward, another hand reached to drag her back. All there is to feel is conflicted.

revelation 2025, the empyrea.

In the beginning, MEI resented the world. Not the natural world, the world of plants and stars and living things, which was so beautiful and boundless and generous with its mysteries, which was ever so elusive, ever so difficult to grasp—but the social world, the world into which she was born, the world of men and women and boys and girls, the world of money and propriety. People recited scripts they couldn't deviate from, wore masks they couldn't take off—and expected the same from her.

As a child, she swore she would never let that happen to herself.

In the end, this was a promise Dr. MEI couldn't keep. An oath she let slip through her fingers. She had to compromise; she had to learn to compromise. She rehearsed and rewrote the scripts. She adjusted and remade the masks. The natural world became increasingly hostile, the social world increasingly desperate—the fractures between and within them growing large and irreparable despite her best efforts, despite all of their best efforts—

Surrounded, now, by champagne glasses of sparkling water and the sounds of a self-indulgent crowd, the shape of Dr. MEI stands quietly at the edge of the bustle, formerly alone—as a sliver of the past emerges to join her. Above the two of them, the dazzling chandelier casts a gentle, sterile light, and it bounces off the glasses and the sparkling water itself. The bubbles inside fizz freely.

“Hua,” she says in acknowledgment, her voice neither warm nor cold. Then, curiously, her gaze settles to meet Vicissitude's. “How many of us have you found?” Are you a ghost, too?

Around them, life continues—unaware of their reunion, of their fates, of things like death and sorrow. And the social world, rejuvenated here in its sparkling farce, cares not at all, either.

[voidrifter]

@taixuandream asked:

"Kiana! There you are. I swear since you've come back around, you've been so difficult to track down." It had been a while, over 7 years since they last saw each other. This was far from an easy meeting. The history between them, complicated and winding, unable to predict like two leaves wafting upon different gusts. Yet for as long as they had been apart, a letter was always sent in preparation for today. No such letter would sent now, though. A plastic container and sizeable box between her arm and hip. A careful approach, smiling as she set her gifts down. A friendly affection as warmth is pressed to Kiana's cheek, nothing more than a peck from the Phoenix. "I got you a gift. Two but... one is a piece of cake." Presenting them forward, the cake, with a simple, orange bow atop a plastic container. A strawberry chocolate slice of cheesecake. While it's clear she didn't make it, the flavor profile was all too memorable. The second, properly wrapped in a space-esc wrapping paper, was a stuffed plush of one of her Phoenix hatchlings. It is plush, rotund and fat. Perfect for a pillow. "I'm glad to have you back, Kiana."

She'd waited for, expected the same thing as always. A little letter, a phoenix feather tucked neatly in it, words she might read a hundred times before accepting contentment in tucking this one along with all the others she's received in Fu Hua's absence. Time moves differently for both of them, after all.

So it may well be the end of the world, such an occasion that Miss Fenghuang Herself would set foot on the moon base. Kiana blinks owlishly at her, cheeks hot where embers still tickle them.

"You didn't have t-" she starts, then stops, and smiles.

It's the little things that make the years between them feel smaller-- Fu Hua remembering her favorite cake, Fu Hua presenting her with something so stupid and undeniably her as the round-eyed bird plushy that peers back at Kiana from between layers of wrapping. It's so dumb, and she likes it so much. So much so that she already knows exactly where upon her bed it'll be going the moment Hua is gone.

Kiana clears her throat.

"Thanks, Hua."

Then, as her smile breaks into a grin, she cants her head. "Stay a little while?"

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ @taixuandream asked:

A hand quickly comes before Ego's eyes, with a very quiet, "Guess who?" After a moment, she would step out from behind Elysia, a grin on her face. "Happy Birthday, I hope you didn't think I forgot." Words gentle, much like the hand that grazes down her cheek. Reaching to take Elysia's hand and holding it tight, a longing gaze. "I found this a little bit back and bought it." It was far from Fu Hua's usual aesthetic, but there was some sentiment in the memories it could provide, even if it had never once belonged to the pinkette before her. "I don't know why," admittedly a lie. Still, a box is presented, unwrapped aside from a bow carefully holding the top to the bottom. It's a soft pink, cardboard and trivial. Slipping the ribbons back off each side, the top would slide open, revealing a dual set of hair sticks, decorative in design. Golden with pink stained glass, the matching pieces were perfect for holding hair up in a bun, or just keeping it out of ones face. The pieces are cool to the touch, warming quick as most metals do. "I don't wear my hair up, so I've never really used them. Pink isn't my color but... it is yours. I'm glad that I get to see you today. I didn't think I ever would again. Happy birthday, Elysia."

"Hmm," a beat of feigned consideration, "Dr. Mobius, it must be you!"

And when fingers slip from her eyes ( ones she would remember without ever needing to see ) she gasps as though surprised. "Ah, I should have guessed. Mobius would never approach me so sweetly."

Elysia is silent, patient as Fu Hua unveils her gift and explains. When she offers, the other accepts. Still Phoenix warm, metal settles into Elysia's palms for inspection. Beautiful, ornate things, which filter light through soft pink and dapple the ground between them like pale petals. Another treasure to carry everywhere-- oh, she'll have to start wearing her hair differently, then-- but for the moment she tucks them delicately back into their box.

The truest gift is always a moment, the hardest to give and the easiest to forget, but Elysia never will.

"Thank you, little bird." She invites herself into Fu Hua's arms, folds her own around the other's waist and presses her face into the warmth of her collar. It is a thanks not merely for this, but for everything.

"I think you should try wearing your hair up, one of these days," she muses into the other's shirt, "just saying."

[starlitpaths]

[PHOTO OP]

This land had a way of stirring even the most distant of souls. Ones that mirrored old friends, and corpses that should've been left well enough alone. Hair dancing like hellfire, sun glittering upon each streak, a forgotten burst of hope bubbles in her chest. From fires that seared deep scars upon gentle skin, a new woman stood before her. One step, then another, before breaking into a quick jog. Even if it meant interrupting a conversation between a few other strangers.

"Excuse me... Himeko? Is... is that you? Is that," eyes darting around, just to find a photo-booth. "Can we take a photo?"

.✧ ー OVERTURE 2024

Himeko blinked in surprise, caught between laughter over the pastry vendor’s antics and the sight of someone jogging toward her.

The Nameless were known far and wide, and becoming the Navigator of the Astral Express meant that many would come to know her before she even had the chance to know them. It had been odd at first—to hear someone wholly unfamiliar call out her name—but she soon grew used to it. Still, she hadn’t expected to be recognized here in Teyvat, where everyone seemed blissfully unaware of the happenings outside their own world—a planet so distant, so disconnected from the rest of the stars.

Her eyes swept over the woman’s face, taking in the soft urgency, the glint of something almost like hope. There was… Something in her voice. Gentle, yet edged with something raw—an old wound that hadn’t quite healed yet, maybe.

A small, warm smile curled from her lips.

“ Me? ” She raised her eyebrows, amusement flickering to curiosity as she waved off the vendor’s attempts to lure her back with cupcake.

“ Well, you did save me from that vendor's incessant talking, so why not? ” Himeko chuckled, and in a gentle, almost instinctive gesture, she reached out and placed her hand on the other’s head. Her fingers rested there briefly, warm and steady, before lightly ruffling her hair like she often would with March. She knew it was an oddly familiar gesture for two strangers, but she couldn’t possibly ignore the hint of worry in the woman’s eyes. Not when she’d like nothing more than to ease any concerns that held her.

“ There, ” she murmured with a soft sigh, her hand lingering just a second longer before pulling back. “ Now, maybe you’ll tell me who you are while we look for the booth, hm? ”

[voidrifter]

@taixuandream sent / kid meme

♡ 2/4 Fu Hua and Kiana

fuki / kiahua / chicken....

kaslana white hair genes win the war here but if flamescion kiana can have the red streaks then so can this thing. i know realistically MANITS genes would not pass on but like we can imagine she got some garuda in her ok

og hua ponytails + kiana braids... im cooking Something okay. loosely kiana based valk suit/jacket but the shapes are meant to be more like hua's flamechaser fit

her anime protagonist genes are off the fucking charts i fear

[avcnturine]

"Officially, I was dead for two minutes."

　　　　　from　　∶　　　　𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒　/　🇦​🇨​🇨​🇪​🇵​🇹​🇮​🇳​🇬​　

A BLITHE NOD ACKNOWLEDGES THE STATEMENT with an affirmative hum, but eyes nevertheless don't shift from the rows of scrolling data logging on the screen before them both. in truth, it moves too fast for him to discern more than the occasional bit or short string, snatches before they're gone again, and almost none of it meaningful.

but he already knows what the data says.

"that's right: officially——two minutes. but that's just the problem." finally, posture and attention turn to the young woman, examining her closely without looking the part ; the hand that comes to perch at his chin looks scripted, the thoughtful sound in his throat a pantomime at deliberation. "you said yourself that you were out for more than that. and i'd also bet money that the error lasted at least a system hour. i even took captures of the time with my watch for good measure."

"but still. . . "

the data, still scrolling. tiny, almost illegible scrawl of white documenting the recent foray into the good scholar's latest project. the evidence, or anecdote. which one would go believed? both of them, aventurine thinks, know the answer.

"looks like this little glitch will have to stay between you and me. next time, we should look for traces of the Voracity. something about this jogs some memories."

[falconflare]

✧ ⁺ - @taixuandream asked:

Humming in amusement, a polite tap on the white-haired woman's shoulder would alert the perceptive marksman. A warm hug comes to Bronya, squeezing her so tight that the other might just consider tapping out. "Happy birthday, Bronya," she offers gently, taking a step back to reveal a little gift bag. It was plain, grey with a little insignia, meaningless to the both of them. A wicker handle is lifted, extended to the other as an offering. Friendship most often forgotten amongst the story they never knew they were in, the quietest kind, strength compressed into a reliance on one another to support a hero. It was easy to forget such hallowed comradery. "A gift! I hope you find it useful. I'll be honest, I really wasn't sure what you'd want or really need... so I got a couple of things for you." It was more akin to a giftbag, with three separate, small but equally sweet objects. A little keychain, with a yellow bunny and a wicked smile. HOMU never looked so good, really. Another, a puzzle that would hopefully keep Bronya's mind. Assembled, it'd make a cacophony of blue and red roses. The third and final, a candle, its scent a swirling fragrance of cinnamon, apples, and vanilla. "Thanks for always being there, Bronya." It was weird to look up to her now, though a symbol of growth that Fu Hua may never yet know again. But she was happy to see such a deserving friend achieve such a future.

For her grip strength, Fu Hua earns a strained half-grunt-half-wheeze. The newly earned wrinkle in Bronya's shirt is still being smoothed when the other pulls away, and silver eyes flit up to meet crimson with muted amusement.

"Thank you," attention is immediately dragged down to the offered gift, then back up to her old class monitor, "you didn't need to, you know."

Not like her saying so has ever made a difference, and she's not any less grateful. The basket is accepted into her own hands, carefully cradled in one arm so that the other might investigate its contents. She is perhaps not surprised by what she finds, but it still strikes a strange sentimental chord in her chest. Little things that the other knows she will like, that don't serve any other purpose than to make her smile.

It is just as weird, peering down to find the other's smile. Time has changed so many things, but not Fu Hua. Ugh. Bronya shuts her eyes.

"I should be the one thanking you," a single shake of her head. That's the beautiful thing about friends like hers-- ones that have come with her to hell and back again-- there is no such thing as owing one another. Bronya sighs. "I am glad to be your friend."