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eidatyr.bsky.social
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@eidatyr.bsky.social
10 followers 16 following 5 posts
this failure, no failure, for love. https://archiveofourown.org/users/enargeia/pseuds
#StarRailFic
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eidatyr.bsky.social
"dreams of distant stars: a star rail rng zine" releases very soon 🌟
look forward to everyone's works—mine included, ft. dan heng, himeko, and yunli—on may 18th! hope to see you there 💙
dreams of distant stars Excerpt from permanence by Alle “Gra—General Huaiyan got yanked into some… general business,” she offers as explanation, first turning to Himeko. “You must be Miss Himeko. I’m Yunli. March is my student.” Her words are brisk and sharp, pulled tight around their corners, and it strikes Dan Heng as unnatural. He doesn’t think she’s lying—not yet, anyway—but something more than her tardiness has unsettled her. He remembers Yunli as spirited, yes, and impulsive, but not restless. As Himeko, no doubt curious, indulges in a great deal of questions regarding March’s apprenticeship, Yunli tips her balance from foot to foot, all the while fingering the grip of her sword. Her gestures are all too reminiscent of his own useless grasping for Cloud-Piercer, finding himself only at ease when it rests next to his palm. download for free on may 18 @starrailrngzine
May 13, 2025 at 9:59 PM
eidatyr.bsky.social
#StarRailFic #avenpaz
completed for hoyohearts exchange 2024 💕

topaz follows up on an old project of hers. things don't go too well.
read: archiveofourown.org/works/62868295

📷 mehdi challouf, unsplash
hazardous waste honkai: star rail - aventurine/topaz for hoyohearts exchange 2024 Aventurine just looks at her, eyes distant and strange, watching her laugh like she's changed, unalterably, into someone unrecognizable. "Go get some rest," he says, finally, waving his hand dismissively.
February 21, 2025 at 10:03 PM
eidatyr.bsky.social
#StarRailFic #sunheng
sunday/dan heng — a treatise on drowning

🕊️ x.com/eidatyr/stat...
Breaching from dream is a pained exhalation. For that liminal shiver between wink and wake, he always forgets which world he's in, perpetually in search of gravity in the wrong direction. He is screaming, his hand outstretched for the starlight cast through the window. His palm has left a shadowy impression on the glass. What a beautiful world to wake up to, he finds himself thinking, once he blinks the afterimage of blood from his eyes. He is still screaming. He hasn't stopped. He cannot stop. His throat has choked around the emptiness inside him, springing from a bottomless well, and there is nothing to do but keep screaming. His eyes are watering from the exertion. He looks around for her, for Robin, or even the illusion of her he greets in his greatest moments of weakness. Surely she could alleviate this pain. Instead he finds someone else in his room, a name he should know that slips through his grasp. A dark shadow of a person, smelling faintly of the seawater swept into his eyes. The young man pries Sunday's hand away from the glass and surrounds Sunday's body with his own. It is like falling into the sea. Sunday gives up all pretense of breathing. The cavernous space inside him floods with water and salt, and the screaming is drowned with him. "Only a nightmare," Dan Heng assures. His name, as the tide, has returned to Sunday with the retreating waves. "Thank you." His voice is cracked, parched, drawn feebly from his strained throat. "They'll get better, over time. They did for me." "But they haven't stopped." Not an argument, but an acknowledgment of self: I have heard you calling in the night. "They haven't."
November 27, 2024 at 2:19 PM