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graveexit.bsky.social
graveexit 🥀
@graveexit.bsky.social
6 followers 1 following 28 posts
✧ My jester court to an audience of none ✧ I think I can write sometimes ✧

Slowly struggling through several cursed ships and terrible more

HSR / PTN / Signalis etc.
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graveexit.bsky.social
I'll share a few drabbles I wrote for Fugue / Wangguiren / Tingyun x Ruan Mei here eventually

Would it be under Wangruan or something else?
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
I'll share a few drabbles I wrote for Fugue / Wangguiren / Tingyun x Ruan Mei here eventually

Would it be under Wangruan or something else?
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
I "have" five (5)
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
I "have" five (5)
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
Reposted by graveexit 🥀
bsky.app
A number of artists and creators have made their home on Bluesky, and we hear their concerns with other platforms training on their data. We do not use any of your content to train generative AI, and have no intention of doing so.
November 15, 2024 at 5:22 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
#graveexit #graveexitdrabbles
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
#graveexit #graveexitdrabbles
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
I know what I'm about 😌 I'm the clown writing drabbles... I wrote these
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
I know what I'm about 😌 I'm the clown writing drabbles... I wrote these
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
Some #Ruanliu drabbles

Top left: the finer memories (24 April '24)
Top right: under her repair (15 May '24)
Bottom left: bliss my solitude (1 July '24)
Bottom right: just a sample (8 July '24)
The finer memories that defy abundance, Jingliu let linger. They are stragglers amidst overdue collapse. Supplicant to the survivor of a vanished shore. Mara quickly crowds those hallowed spaces. But is sound ever absent? Her blindfold could only do so much. They cannot insulate against reticent fragments, repel the additive synthesis of a planet’s maw, nor return the laughter wrung to vacuum. All bind her flesh. Another form of contagion. Ruan Mei is laden with it, flourishing freer in its mire. The unspoken, beyond language, arise from the silksteel strings of her home. Hers? Once, with snakeskin of Yaoqing provenance. She spares no breath arriving at the makeshift biome. Minutes upon hours, she has waited. Splice grafting on the everbloom branch complete. Room humidity stabilized. Plenty of dappled sunlight. Ruan Mei raises her xiaoruan and touches its underside. The callus, out from Jingliu's perfect cut, is dry and seeking. She slants it level to the damp soil it craves and retreats until her heels pulse against the lake surface. A snarl of ice ripples not too far behind. No time to correct technique. Jingliu stops beside her, erhu and bow in grip. “I trust you remember?” “I trust the rewards.” The syllables belonging to that soft-faced immortal — so immersed in research, anchored beneath the tumult of the waves — have begun to congeal. She knows not when, only that somewhere in the interim of their conversations no longer follows corrections. That these missives send her to warmer and warmer planets, recall her to the ship with temperate welcomes, and abstain every appeal to enter the lab. That every meal arrives seasonably warm. Every need is met with the prerequisite they remain at arm’s length. Even farther. It should upset her, but she blanks, a little, at how effective the distance augments. Jingliu's presence alone banishes from the symposium any semblance of routine. Her taciturn visage, unenthusiastic side-eye… both fascinate and repel the remaining researchers. Ruan Mei rotates her glass, frowning. What's more— “Not to your liking?” “Lukewarm.” Charming how quickly Jingliu, a broad pillar of tailored white, shadows her. She details the first drops, duhat to jasmine, shrugging. “I'm getting ice.” “I will do you one better.” Jingliu bends toward the rim. Eyes never straying from hers, she blows steadily into the glass, coating it in a fine layer of frost before straightening. She stills as Ruan Mei offers it back.
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM
graveexit.bsky.social
Some #Ruanliu drabbles

Top left: the finer memories (24 April '24)
Top right: under her repair (15 May '24)
Bottom left: bliss my solitude (1 July '24)
Bottom right: just a sample (8 July '24)
The finer memories that defy abundance, Jingliu let linger. They are stragglers amidst overdue collapse. Supplicant to the survivor of a vanished shore. Mara quickly crowds those hallowed spaces. But is sound ever absent? Her blindfold could only do so much. They cannot insulate against reticent fragments, repel the additive synthesis of a planet’s maw, nor return the laughter wrung to vacuum. All bind her flesh. Another form of contagion. Ruan Mei is laden with it, flourishing freer in its mire. The unspoken, beyond language, arise from the silksteel strings of her home. Hers? Once, with snakeskin of Yaoqing provenance. She spares no breath arriving at the makeshift biome. Minutes upon hours, she has waited. Splice grafting on the everbloom branch complete. Room humidity stabilized. Plenty of dappled sunlight. Ruan Mei raises her xiaoruan and touches its underside. The callus, out from Jingliu's perfect cut, is dry and seeking. She slants it level to the damp soil it craves and retreats until her heels pulse against the lake surface. A snarl of ice ripples not too far behind. No time to correct technique. Jingliu stops beside her, erhu and bow in grip. “I trust you remember?” “I trust the rewards.” The syllables belonging to that soft-faced immortal — so immersed in research, anchored beneath the tumult of the waves — have begun to congeal. She knows not when, only that somewhere in the interim of their conversations no longer follows corrections. That these missives send her to warmer and warmer planets, recall her to the ship with temperate welcomes, and abstain every appeal to enter the lab. That every meal arrives seasonably warm. Every need is met with the prerequisite they remain at arm’s length. Even farther. It should upset her, but she blanks, a little, at how effective the distance augments. Jingliu's presence alone banishes from the symposium any semblance of routine. Her taciturn visage, unenthusiastic side-eye… both fascinate and repel the remaining researchers. Ruan Mei rotates her glass, frowning. What's more— “Not to your liking?” “Lukewarm.” Charming how quickly Jingliu, a broad pillar of tailored white, shadows her. She details the first drops, duhat to jasmine, shrugging. “I'm getting ice.” “I will do you one better.” Jingliu bends toward the rim. Eyes never straying from hers, she blows steadily into the glass, coating it in a fine layer of frost before straightening. She stills as Ruan Mei offers it back.
November 19, 2024 at 9:28 PM