DRAGON'S NEST

Intro post

Who am I

Name: Ayanami Ria (of course it's not real name, a reference to my fascination with the history of the Japanese Imperial Navy)

Pronounces: they/them

Age: mid 30's

I am interested in cosplay crafts, bjd doll, japanese kawaii culture and jirai fashion.

What is this blog for?

Just a little place for sharing my crafts i made for my dolls. May be for special one doll. The one doll to rule them all♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

Faceup, wigs, most of clothes and accessories are mde by me. I'm not good photographer. I try my best ...

Some events, thoughts, daily life is also here.

Welcome(⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪

Dolls here:

Mairon: custom designed bjd head on Iplehouse sid body

The Bird: custom designed bjd head on Iplehouse sid body/ custom designed body

Happy summer time!

A whisper of the dawn that never came.

He stood where shadows danced in silent room,

And spoke the words that fed the darkest flame.

His eyes, two pits where ancient embers glowed,

Reflected not the stars, but distant wars.

The air grew cold — a silent curse was sown,

As night itself obeyed his whispered laws.

He raised his hand — the mountains shook with dread,

The ashen winds began their mournful song.

No light would dawn above his iron bed,

No song of elves would right the ancient wrong.

Yet somewhere deep, a memory took flight —

Like a cloud cradling light both warm and bright

He was the dew untouched by dawn’s first light,

A breath of morning on the sleeping grass,

But shadows crept where once was pure delight,

And time itself seemed pause - to grieve, not pass.

Like a cloud cradling light both warm and bright,

He stood where day embraced the edge of doom,

Yet in his eyes a sorrow, cold and white,

Foretold the fall from grace, the coming gloom.

His crown was neither gold nor metal cast,

But dawn’s own ray that trembled, soft and clear

Now dimmed by clouds that gather, thick and vast,

As if the sky itself shed silent tear.

He walked, piercing the gloom of ancient past,

Pale silk streamed softly in the half‑lit gloom.

He was the dew untouched by dawn’s first light,

Pale silk streamed softly in the half‑lit gloom,

Like a cloud cradling light both warm and bright

He stood where day embraced the edge of doom

His crown was neither gold nor metal cast,

But dawn’s own ray that trembled, soft and clear

He walked, piercing the gloom of ancient past,

In robes as white as snow upon the mere.

Lilies pale at stern shoulders gently lay,

A rose in his right hand — cold, yet so pure.

It bears no honey scent, but draws the gaze,

And in the heart awakens dreams secure.

He knew the paths where truth once burned so bright,

He remembered the song that sang the world to light.

Also, he preteds his hair be beautiful than Galadriel's. Her hair filled with light of Valinor trees, and his filled with the song of creation, Ainulindale.

Dust shall cloak the garden’s hall,

Spring’s sweet promise, ever bright,

Gives way to darkness, cold as night.

And the shades of ages past

Murmur through the ruins vast:

«Once there was light, and crown, and throne,

But he fell who held the law his own,

Greater than mercy, stern and cold —

Faded like a tale long told».