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i was born to break , shallow paradise . . .

haitham startles slightly when kaveh grabs onto his arms, the sudden burst of energy from the usually dramatic architect catching him off guard. he blinks, taking a second to listen and then there it is again — three soft, muffled meows. he exhales through his nose, something between relief and disbelief. all of kaveh's worrying seemingly rubbed off on him earlier. ❝ no, you’re not hallucinating, ❞ he says dryly, though his tone is gentler than usual, always much softer whenever it comes to kaveh.

he tilts his head, listening again before glancing toward the corner of the room where kaveh’s cluttered laundry basket sits. half-filled clothes spilling over that he knows he's told kaveh to take care of multiple times. he moves past kaveh, crouching beside the basket. ❝ i think your cat decided to take a nap somewhere unconventional. ❞ haitham starts removing clothes with methodical precision until he hears a soft rustle. he lifts one of kaveh’s sweaters and there she is. blinking up at him sleepily, tail flicking once as if unimpressed by all the commotion.

───・・✦・・THEIR LESSONS ARE SO COMPLICATED yet Durin can feel himself growing gradually more accustomed to them. Albedo needed someone who could keep up with them while on this journey, right? If Durin failed them, then what would happen? It's this thought that causes his hand to start trembling, the vial in his grasp nearly spilling over the liquid inside. For the unfortunate briefest of seconds, his eyes begin to water and he's forced to place the vial back in its rack, gloved hands coming to wipe at his features. ❝ Sorry... I think I got something in my eye... ❞ Was it alright to lie to them? They needed to keep working on the equation ; they needed to stay focused, so why now...?

albedo's patience for others, especially their own brother, knows no bounds. they've mastered the balance between firm and gentle guidance during their lessons — never pushing durin beyond his limits while simultaneously being sure to not coddle him either. they knew beneath durin's insecurities and self-doubt lied the potential for something greater.

eyes soften as they take notice of his shaky hands setting down the vial to wipe at his eyes. they don't ask if he's crying or point out the lie, it'll only embarrass durin and fuel the self-doubt circling through his mind. instead, they set the notes they had in hand on the table next to the stand of vials and give him a reassuring smile. ❝ let's take a break for now. ❞

* . ⊹  ʟʏɴᴇʏ   › ON CUE AS ALWAYS , his sister never so much as receives a single glance from him while on stage ; he's confident in her abilities, knows she'll do everything exactly as planned. As the flames whisk away the sight of her, he can hear the audience's gasps, the screams, their minds thinking he just threw her to the wolves -- executed a well-thought out murder on stage -- but he throws his arm out, the flames extinguished with just that of his whisked wrist.

      Standing where his sister once was is the woman as promised, her features appearing mystified, confusion upon her expression. ❝ Dear audience, ❞ he'd call above the dedicated applause, baffled cries, and distress. Even if this is standard practice, his chest still beats faster than that of a hummingbird's wings. ❝ If you'll help me now, we can once more be given the summoning of my dearest sister, but you must be willing to do exactly as I say! ❞ A hand to his lips, a whispered dramatic effect, though merely used to grant Lynette extra time to traverse down below their feet. ❝ Otherwise, you might be depriving me of my lovely assistant in the future! ❞

she waits below the stage, feline ears twitching as she focuses on every sound around her. beneath the wooden trap door of the stage, it's relatively quiet for any normal human. for lynette, however, she has to filter out the low humming of clockwork and faint noises of the audience as she searches for her brother's voice — waiting patiently for her cue. every word from him has been rehearsed to perfection, yet his tone always carries that same spark of the thrill. as if each performance might be their last.

she adjusts her hat, dusts off a stray ember from her sleeve and moves soundlessly through the narrow passage. the scent of smoke lingers, clinging to her clothes and making her sensitive nose wrinkle at the smell. she'll have to bathe after this to get the stench out of her hair.

at the count of six, she's already in position. at three, she takes a steadying breath. when the crowd finally reaches one, the trap door opens in a flourish of wind and embers as she rises from below unscathed. she's composed save for the amused glint in her eyes from the audience's disbelief rippling through the theater.

・┆✦ʚ⚙️ɞ✦ ┆・❝𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜. 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜.❞

just a note that my scaramouche goes by the name setsuna after gaining his vision. all of his content will be tagged with that name, but i still may use any of his past names depending on what timeline im writing him in or who he's interacting with. he doesn't particularly care what people call him and probably won't bring up his chosen name unless he's close with someone, which is rare for him. so he'll settle for wanderer or hat guy.

as for the nomenclature of his name:

-ˏˋ⋆ ↳ ❝ 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 : 「 CORDRACONIIS 」 ! ❞ ─── a highly selective, independent, & headcanon-based roleplay blog for DURIN / MINI DURIN from GENSHIN IMPACT . ┈┈┈ this blog will feature mature themes ─ viewer discretion advised. none of it will be romanticized nor should it be. uses the beta editor only. minors dni.

a study in : becoming your own person. learning to be like others. enjoying the life you never had. golden heart. a dragon who never wanted to hurt anyone. learning that you're not alone. seeing the world in a new light. found family. loving others unconditionally. making amends for past mistakes. fighting for those you care about.

her eyes were still locked on to himeko’s lips. the lips she hasn’t kissed in some time now, but she can still recall how they feel. soft and plush much like a rose. she can still remember the taste of vanilla lip gloss mixed with the bitterness of himeko’s coffee. as well as the little noises himeko would make when she nipped her lip or slipped her tongue inside her mouth. it’s been years and still kafka finds herself thinking and craving the other woman. so much so that even her dreams are plagued with himeko. if she wasn’t the astral express’s navigator kafka would have brought her into the stellaron hunters. it’s still tempting, she’ll admit, to ensnare her and bring her back home. surely himeko would find herself enjoying their company, after all they aren’t that much different from the express. given the circumstances however, it’s just a fantasy of hers and not something she could actually do.

she doesn’t look away. in fact, her smile only deepens. ❝ my you’ve never been subtle, that’s true, ❞ she muses, her voice smooth, tinged with amusement and something far more than just simple fondness for the stellaron hunter. ❝ but then again, i’ve always found your directness . . . charming. ❞ a brief pause, heavy with all the unsaid years between them. the tension doesn’t break, it stretches — tightens, lingers in the air like perfume.

❝ you’re insufferable. ❞ the words come out like venom, but the tremor in his voice shows something else lying beneath the surface. something uncomfortably close to vulnerability. he doesn’t look at her at first, focusing instead on the horizon as if the distant clouds could swallow this conversation whole. ❝ you talk as if you know everything, as if you can see through everyone. maybe you can. but that doesn’t make you right. ❞

he scoffs, crossing his arms, the motion sharp and defensive. ❝ if ei wanted to talk, she’s had centuries to do it. she didn’t. she chose silence. and you... ❞ his glare flicks toward her, eyes narrowing, ❝ you chose to amuse yourself at my expense. i suppose that’s what you do best. ❞