*æsthetic quote here*

i'm tai, an ace adhder (they/them). i like star wars (prequels & niche legends media), hsr (luofu-centric) and the danmei fandom

chaotic & unserious over at side blog @kntstai

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apricotshixiong (danmei fandom)

briikaseberoya (star wars)

tempestkin (hsr)

fic links masterposts:

star wars, hsr, danmei fandom

qijiu and xiyao truther, 0.5 ranwan enjoyer. in hsr, i like all variations of jingrenyingfengheng (including specifically fengheng). old men yaoi (dookutine, jingwelt, ruoren and junmei) for the win. i also vibe with 3zun, huaxuan, obimaul, voidwelt and sunturine

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svsss | sy & yqy | canon divergence, mcd

The screen dims, but remains where it is, and Shen Yuan finally looks past it to meet Yue Qingyuan's half-lidded eyes. Shen Yuan's hands tremble – a minute flinch – yet his hold on the other remains firm. Shen Yuan swallows. Tries to arrange his face into something properly resembling Shen Jiu's sneer. He– he doesn't want to do this, but – he's powerless against the System.

well, more accurately, to a place called the lingxi scenic spot (灵恓胜境 língxī shèngjìng) in zhejiang province that still, however, has caves in it.

(funnily enough, the two names use the same tone combination for "lingxi", and the "ling" uses the same character, 灵, "spirit/soul/mind/etc")

with each day, it gets easier to pretend

(it really doesn't

it hurts; tears at his ribcage)

to look at the man beside him

at the green silks

at the painted fan

to look and to see a Shen Qingqiu

(he's not Shen Jiu–

not Xiao Jiu)

but it is alright to pretend

it's all he does, nowadays

it's all he did for a very long time

(we're worth each other,

he thinks, silent,

those useless, fake personas

of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu)

and the one beside him isn't him

and he soundlessly shuts his eyes.

sketch page full of waning moon officers

(tap for better resolution)

this was drawn traditionally with the colors added digitally

sj is the one who gets targeted, since his meridians have a unique structure to them back when wyz tried to make him into a cauldron. in the middle of the fight, the spirit does something, and all of a sudden sj flinches back, and his eyes have a strange purple sheen to them

and yqy cannot turn his sword (neither xuan su nor a spare one) against him as possessed!sj attacks him, not even when he knows that sj is being controlled by the spirit. sj lunges at him, and muscle memory makes yqy bring up his spare sword– but he jerks back at the last second, redirecting the blade. overbalances – and sj knocks him to the ground, and his hands are around yqy's neck since xiu ya refused to answer to an impostor

yqy really should do something – anything – both for his and sj's sake, but in that moment all he can do is sag in that hold, his mind blank save for the feeling of xiao jiu's hands upon him.

(because it really isn't such a bad way to die, hm? with xiao jiu touching him; arguably taking what he's due; with those elegant fingers pressed deep into his skin, firm in their staunch – deserved – cruelty)

pines all around and

(i should probably remember this place)

i step into the gates for the first time.

tucked away into the maze of the city,

a small temple stands.

pines and sunlight and

an empty courtyard and

(a lone figure sweeping the stones)

there's no-one there.

brushing past the dusty shelves,

it would be a hassle to clean the suit

(a hassle to wash the expensive robes)

slender fingers find long-abandoned scrolls

there should've been a tale there

at least some mention of a god

(there are no gods here)

but the papers are torn

and i find nothing.

it is– rather illogical

to invite any sentiment

(something inside shakes and howls)

and i do not know the dark wood

just as i don't know the ancient stone

just as there's no recollection

of an altar in the basement; of the door within;

of the fact that the temple