#aprisatm

@aprisatm​ sent:

“  don’t look at me like that.  ” Wwx @ Lan Zhan?

more prompts for your feels | open

Concern is an act of deep and real caring, it’s evidence of their bond and Lan Wangji hoped the other would receive it as such. He is concerned, yet he believes in his abilities and his passion. If anyone could do this it’s Wei Wuxian. So he has to go. He has to give it a try. Whatever he had set his mind on, he would have to try. Whatever happens, Lan Wangji would never not offer his support. All he wanted was for the other to accept his support. He wanted the other to live his best life, to rise up into his passion and feel the exhilaration that it would bring. 

With concern there must be balance. Is it keeping him safe or too safe? There must be safety enough to live well and thrive. There must be not so much safety that necessary risks cannot happen. But where was he supposed to draw the line? There was no answer in any scroll nor did the Wall of Discipline hold such information. He could only listen to his own feeling, yet he was feeling uncertain of where to draw this line. After all, what he fears the most is to lose Wei Wuxian to his own decisions. 

The trees swam in and out of focus. Each breath she pulled into her body hurt, this painful crushing sensation in her chest where a sword had pierced through her heart. It hadn’t occurred to her yet, robed drenched in blood as she stumbled through the waste land. She wasn’t meant to walk out of here, dumped and left to die, yet here she was. There was a voice up ahead, she didn’t recognise it, but it was someone. Anyone. Civilization instead of...whatever this forest she had woken up in.

Trembling, she managed a step into the path worn into the ground through continuous traffic, stumbling, she came to a halt. Well aware that she was staring but what else could she do? Panic swept over her, swallowing the lump in her throat her hand reached for her face, it was wet. Looking at her hand...tears and blood. How was there possibly this much blood?

Send “New Years Kiss” to give my muse a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve || Selectively accepting

@aprisatm​​ asked: New Years Kiss' estinien is here for ysayle 

“There isn’t anything wrong with being around people, you know.”

The pert tone played across her lips as she leaned over the edge of the stone half wall that acted as barrier from the lofty spot and the sheer drop below. One might think her to be fearful of heights after everything that had occurred, but Estinien favored the high reaches of Ishgard, and Ysayle would follow, abandoning fear at the entrance.

Her gaze scrutinized him, icy optics soaking every part of him that she was certain would prefer to be back out onto the road, far from the city that harbored both good and ill memories for the man. His tension nearly palpable while in a location he could relax, below them were a myriad of citizens of Ishgard that awaited the tolls of Heavenstrun to begin. This was a home that they could return to, and forgiveness offered without ask, but it still made them both wish to plunge into the reaches of the snow and vanish.

But with their growing family, such a thing could not be possible forever.

“But I understand where your hesitance stems from.” She placed her hand upon his, her lips quelling in their beam some as she stroked her thumb along the back of his hand. “Even I can find it difficult. Perhaps a resolution is in order.” Ysayle turned towards the man, her free hand coming to rest on her slightly swollen stomach.

“Not for me, but for the future. One that we both wished would come to fruition.” Her gaze cemented on his own, and to ensure he continued to look upon her, her fingers drifted away from belly and hand, coming to rest upon his cheeks and pull him in closer to her. “Let’s just try to be good and present for once.” Meant for both of them, but leaning towards a wish for him to stay. No longer to be the lone Azure Dragoon.

A small chant below, Ysayle paid it no mind as she offered a small huff, her breath blooming in the cold. The edge of a crinkle at her eyes gave away her mirth as she leaned in, a mere clipped whisper against his lips as the cheers began to ring out, the new year striking upon the midnight bell. Her lips pressed wholly against his own, ensuring that no ill words could deny what she had uttered from his saucy tongue.

@aprisatm​ said: “ you know, if you moved in we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this. ” aymeric @ esti

morning after starters // accepting

Estinien huffs softly, blowing a stray lock of white out of his face with an indelicate puff of breath. he folds his arms beneath his pillow as he rolls onto his stomach, looking up at where Aymeric readies himself for the day to come. That fancy garb of his took more time than it was worth to remove, but somehow he seemed to dress himself in it with a speed that could only come from practiced efficiency. The temptation to drag the man back into bed and enjoy a few more hours of the morning together, and to undo the progress Aymeric had made in preparing to leave in the process, was nigh overwhelming and the Dragoon’s impulse control had always left a fair bit to be desired.

Moving on hands and knees towards the edge of the bed, the pale-haired elezen reaches out to catch a fistful of brilliant blue fabric. He gives an insistent tug, not in an attempt to tear the coat, but simply to guide Aymeric back to him before he can begin securing all his bits of ornate armor.

     “As if you would not still leave at the same hour every morning, Lord Speaker,” The title is purred, more a petname in tone than proper deference, accompanied by another tug at his coat. He understands what Aymeric means, knows that tapping at his window to be let in and leaving the same way the next morning-- gone without a trace when Aymeric arrives back to his estate-- is hardly the ideal relationship. And yet...the idea of returning to Ishgard’s walls for good is... unsettling, in a way. Is he ready? Is the city ready? He doubts it. 

Random Asks! | feat @aprisatm / @stcrmscngs

What was his relationship with the famous Azure Dragoon. The question had Aymeric’s lips pressed into a flat line, though an amused edge quirked at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t one he could even truly address, because the answer was ambiguous and unknown to him.

To Aymeric, Estinien was a dear friend, perhaps one of, if not his closest, one. He was someone Aymeric wouldn’t hesitate to state he loved in the truest sense of the word.

But Estinien’s heart was unknown for him. The dragoon seemed hellbent on protecting himself and from the tragedies that still laid in Ishgard, and if the cost of doing so meant separating himself from Aymeric... 

The Speaker didn’t resent him. Didn’t blame him.

“Aisling, do you think you’d have any interest in, well, maybe...” His voice trailed off for a moment as G’raha found himself fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Ah-! Something about just being near her kept on bringing up a flush of shyness, despite there being no logical reason for it. 

The Miqo’te leaned back dangerously far in her her chair, hands drumming near frantically at the table in front of her. Her gaze trailed over towards the open window, looking out at the rest of the Crystarium. The hero seemed to be antsy about something, but even she was having problems putting an explanation to what that ‘something’ was.

Z’nakei sighed for what was like to be the tenth time in that hour alone. She was even getting up to pace across her room yet again. Eventually she spun slightly on her heels, flopping against her back on the ground.

Not the smartest idea, since the warrior uttered a faint ‘ow?’, touching the back of her head briefly before sprawling back out on the floor. “Twelve save me, I’m going mad...” She thought aloud. Maybe company would help ease...whatever in the Seven Hells was going on with her and prompting this what she guessed to be the inevitable mental breakdown?