#abandoned rails

[dorkvania]

Montgomery Park

[orcamorca]

Inktober day 3 Path

I knew I wanted to do a landscape natur kind of thing but MAN do I hate it. I am not good at it at all

But it turned out okay I think

[adamant-hearts]

Whoops my hand slipped and I drew our lord and savior Sunday again- （´∇｀''）

(Expand to see details!! Image compression is probably being stinky as always smh)

Hope everyone’s pulls for Sunday went well/are going well hehe 💜

[frowncake]

shall we play a game?

bonus

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 6

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5]

[shizuart]

GALLERIA / AVENTURINE

[aventurineswife]

hiii i love ur work this is my first time sending a req....

aventurine, argenti and sunday with reader who has abandonment issues?

thank u if u can💓😓😓

“You don’t have to run anymore. I’m right here”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Fluff & Angst, Comfort, Reassurance, Slow Burn Elements, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship/Developing Relationship, Protective, Fear of Abandonment, Vulnerability & Healing.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma & Abandonment Issues, Mild Emotional Angst, Self-Doubt & Insecurities, Fear of Losing a Loved One, Mild Implied Physical Affection (Hand-Holding, Kissing, etc.), Mentions of Combat & Dangerous Lifestyles (Argenti & Aventurine's parts), Subtle Themes of Survivor’s Guilt.

Aventurine always played the long game. Risks, deception, and calculated gambles were the foundation of his life, and love was no exception.

You knew better than to trust a man like him—someone who thrived on uncertainty, who could slip through your fingers like sand. You’d seen too many people leave, too many broken promises, too many doors shut in your face. And Aventurine, with his ever-present smirk and teasing words, was everything you feared.

Yet, here you were, in his penthouse suite, watching as he shuffled a deck of cards with effortless grace. The city lights stretched behind him, neon reflections dancing in his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he purred, cutting the deck in half and sliding a card toward you. “Let’s make a bet.”

You frowned. “On what?”

His smile deepened, but there was something softer in his gaze tonight. “You tell me what’s got you so distant lately, and if you win this round, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And if I lose?”

“I get a kiss.”

Typical. You rolled your eyes but picked up the card anyway. The game was blackjack, and with a few turns, the results were in. Aventurine’s total? Twenty-one. Yours? Nineteen.

“Looks like I win,” he drawled, leaning closer. “But don’t worry, I won’t collect just yet.”

You expected him to gloat. Instead, he set his cards down and watched you intently, his playful mask slipping just enough for you to see something raw beneath.

“You’re scared I’ll leave, aren’t you?”

Your stomach twisted. “It’s not—”

“You don’t have to explain, dove,” he murmured, tapping a knuckle against your chin. “I know what it’s like to count on someone and have them disappear.”

A long silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words.

“I don’t make promises,” he admitted. “Too many strings, too many loopholes. But if you think I’m just going to up and vanish on you…” He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “Then you don’t know how stubborn I am.”

Your chest ached, the weight of old wounds pressing in. Aventurine was unpredictable, reckless—but in this moment, you wanted to believe him.

So when he finally claimed his prize, lips brushing against yours in a slow, lingering kiss, you let yourself gamble on him—just this once.

Argenti was the picture of steadfast devotion. His loyalty to the Knights of Beauty, his unwavering sense of duty—it all spoke of someone who would never falter, never stray.

But you couldn’t believe in ‘forever.’ Not when everyone you’d ever loved had left.

Tonight, the two of you stood beneath a twilight sky, the scent of blooming roses filling the air. Argenti had just returned from a mission, his armor bearing the faint scuffs of battle, yet his first stop had been you.

“You have been troubled lately,” he observed, his eyes scanning your face. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s not you,” you murmured, fingers gripping the edge of your sleeve.

Argenti frowned. “Then what burdens your heart?”

You hesitated. “I just… I keep thinking—what if one day you don’t come back? What if I get too used to having you here, and then you’re gone?”

A heavy silence settled between you. Then, without a word, Argenti removed his gauntlet and took your hand, his grip firm and grounding.

“The path I walk is treacherous,” he admitted. “But know this—I do not tread it lightly.”

You swallowed hard. “That doesn’t change the fact that—”

“That I could be taken from you?” His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “No, it does not. But neither does it mean I will abandon you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I swear to you,” he said softly, “as long as I draw breath, I will return to you. Not because of duty, nor obligation, but because you are part of the beauty I cherish in this world.”

Your vision blurred slightly, the weight of his words settling deep. Argenti wasn’t a man of empty promises—his convictions were carved into his very soul.

So when he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to your fingers, you let yourself believe.

Even if the world was uncertain, Argenti’s devotion was unshaken.

Sunday was a dream you were afraid to reach for.

Ethereal, enigmatic—his presence was like the fleeting glow of a sunset, beautiful yet impossible to grasp. He had seen the worst of the world, and yet he still carried a quiet hope, a belief that things could be different.

You envied that.

It was late when you found him in the observation car of the Astral Express, gazing out at the stars. His hair shimmered under the soft lights, eyes reflecting the vast unknown beyond the glass.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, not turning to face you. “Come sit.”

You hesitated but joined him, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread.

“You’ve been distant,” he noted. “Why?”

You exhaled, fingers tightening in your lap. “Because I know this won’t last.”

Sunday finally looked at you, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll leave,” you said bluntly. “Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow—but eventually, you’ll find another path, another dream to chase. And I’ll be left behind.”

His wings shifted slightly, a telltale sign of unease. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

Your heart clenched. “It’s not about you. It’s just… what always happens.”

A sigh left his lips, and then, in an uncharacteristically human gesture, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“I have walked many roads,” he murmured. “I have seen beauty, sorrow, and the illusion of eternity.” His grip tightened slightly. “But never have I left something behind without reason.”

You bit your lip. “So what’s your reason for staying now?”

Sunday tilted his head, studying you as if searching for the right words. Then, in a voice as soft as a lullaby, he said,

“Because for the first time, I have found someone worth staying for.”

A lump formed in your throat.

Sunday was many things—a dreamer, a wanderer, a soul caught between hope and regret. But in this moment, with his hand in yours, you felt something real.

So when he leaned his head against your shoulder, wings fluttering in quiet contentment, you let yourself believe in the dream—just a little longer.

[ruebird]

BWADE

[kroosluvr]

Life's beauty is like a myriad of flowers, and I want to pluck the one that never wilts.

[matchanon]

mydei’s love towards you is fierce and intense, like the fire that burns corpses to ashes or the possessiveness of beasts who stare down their prey

yet when he holds you he holds you as if you’re going to slip through his fingers like sand— gently, mindful of his strength, yet almost obsessed with caging you in his embrace and never letting you go

his large palms squeeze your hips, his heart thunders loud and clearly in your ears, his gaze raking over your form once, twice, making sure you’re unharmed and whole, then his biceps trap your form against him as he presses his lips against the crown of your head, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your lips— tender and suffocating in showcasing how much he likes physical contact with you

contrary to the savagery rumoured to run in the blood of kremnoans, mydeimos treats you with tenderness and intense affection, never shying away nor abashed in showing how much he cherishes you

[guujikaroko]

People are all over the place because of Mydei's outrageous manspread scene, and yeah, even I had to raise an eyebrow at that, but I have my attention on something else.

What gets me is the throne Mydei's sitting on. It's made out of blood crystals—crystals formed out of Mydei's very own blood.

At first glance, it works as a badass boast; making yourself a throne to sit in and look down is cool and all, but in the fuller context of Mydei's life, it's really sad.

Because, see: as much as Mydei feels at home amidst war and has no qualms about killing and such, he does not believe in Strife as a goal unto itself the way Kremnos—the way Nikador—preaches. Strife is what ruined Mydei's family when his father cast him in the River of Souls, afraid of a tradition of patricide that fulfilled itself later on. It's easy to imagine how disgusted Mydei became with these practices that were seem as obvious in Kremnoan society. And once even their deity fell, he resolved to lead his people away from that polis and that lifestyle, so they can welcome a new walk of life free from Strife.

But here is the thing. As much as Mydei wants Kremnos to break away from Strife, he himself can't. As I said in the beginning, even if he does not believe in Strife as a goal unto itself, he lives in it. He lives in the war, in combat, in bloodshed. He's immortal, which allows him to be as reckless with himself as he wants in battle; his fighting style demands his blood to be shed. He denied himself the opportunity to become a demigod for the sake of his vision, but I think we all know it won't work. The Coreflame of Strife will be his in the end; he surely will be Nikador's successor.

And that's why that scene makes me so sad now. He’s not running away or rebelling in the end. He will fulfill his duty as a Chrysos Heir above all. He will sit in that throne of blood and be crowned king, the rightful inheritor of all the traditions Kremnos ought to leave behind. He, alone, because his people will follow the path he paved for them, away from Strife.

Mydeimos is truly the last monarch of Castrum Kremnos, in every way that matters.

[zombilenium]

The Maplewood Depot in Bethlehem, New Hampshire,

A thriving train station built in the 1880s as tourists flocked to the White Mountains for fresh air and pristine vistas, closed down in 1924.

The long-abandoned structure was taken down last year, but plans are underway to recreate the depot in a spot closer to the center of town.

Courtesy: Marie Desrosiers

[starry-bi-sky]

*stares at disciple SQQ falling into the abyss au*

oh you are so "SY-is-SJ" coded. You are so "fell into the abyss and suddenly remembered that oh i've been Shen Jiu this whole time, not just Shen Yuan. we are one and the same". you are so 'crumbling under the weight of the system and being in the abyss and the despair of never really being free and having suffered in both lives' built. you are so 'scrambling to come to terms with your existence and battling with which life is really yours, only to realize that they both are'. You are primed for going off the rails.

I'm so normal about this guys. i promise.

[deathwaltz-ao3]

observe

[qdkdraws]

Ruan Mei's quest, at least first part with bugs, really pissed me off.

Okay, okay, listen, it's not because she "used" us - let's be honest, there are very few characters in the story who haven't used Trailblazer to some degree - but because Stelle kept being absurdly nice to her. Like, c'mon, girl, you can't be nice to Sampo, who's 50/50 troublemaker and helpmaker (seriously, the answer options with him are "negative, negative, neutral" most of the time, even though we've been shown his positive sides numerous times), but "want to see again" the one who fed you weird drugs in the first minutes of meeting you and sent you to clean up her shit? We have both positive and negative answers for Kafka, but not a single truly negative answer for Ruan?