#apocryphis

If you follow @apocryphis otherwise known as Ventium, please dni with me. Clearly she thinks I'm a liar because I wanted her to sign an exclusive writing contract without having her read the Terms & Conditions (literally no one reads this in the first place so idk what her problem is). She has also compared me to Sparkle, which is downright insulting because she's a compulsive liar that no one likes. Not to forget how she mocked me and predicted that I would make this callout post as if I'm gonna fall for reverse psychology.

Somewhere by the sea. It might be cliché to pull the two warriors away from the bloody battlefield and put them into a quaint peaceful little hideout, but I feel like that's what they'd deserve and enjoy.

When I'm thinking small, I'm thinking a nice cottage or repurposed/fixed-up ruin by the water, so they have a real home but also the opportunity to be in the ocean whenever they want to be (especially Hysilens). They could be one with nature and each other and just live every day as it comes. Well, they probably would try that and then end up becoming protectors of the surrounding areas and creatures anyway, or be dragged into some new conflict.

When I'm thinking a little bigger, years in the future, and logistics aside.. imagine they could have something like a house that is half outside and half inside the water, so you don't have to leave it to get into the ocean. The half on land ist most parts library, created and maintained by Dan Heng, who remains an archivist at heart, and both the land part and the water part are built in a way that carry music & Hysilens' song beautifully. When she sings, you can hear it all over the place, echoing, and often all kinds of animals come through the water or the windows to listen.

@apocryphis sent: ❛   we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace.  ❜ (wriothesley for diluc)

Diluc runs a finger down Wriothesley's arm, free of bandages for once, tracing one of the many scars carved into his skin. It reminds him of his own skin, a canvas of his past sins and failures, and he wonders how similar the smaller details of their life stories would appear side by side. At first glance, from what little he knows, their pasts couldn't be more different, and yet written between the lines of their stories is a language they both understand. It's tempting to agree with Wriothesley, faced with all his scars, each telling a tale of an enemy, an accident, a moment of weakness. That is, until Diluc remembers the first time he felt the need to hide his pain and tears.

"You have a point," he responds, "but I don't agree entirely." Releasing Wriothesley's arm, he lifts his own and turns it to present the outside of his forearm, where a long thin scar bears forever witness to the time he tripped and fell right on a sharp rock while chasing Kaeya around the winery. He doesn't remember the pain now, of course, but the shock on Kaeya's face at the sight of the blood and his own resulting desire to bite back his tears and pretend it didn't even hurt that much, just to keep the other boy from crying.

gee i wonder who guthred's type is -