#unne reblobs art

[saunne]

Ren had always been cold since he had become "Blade".

He had woken up with a skin as pristine as mutton-fat jade, veined with the most delicate tendrils-fissures veins of mauve-lilac and viridian. He remembered having traced them with a sort of detached awe, his numb fingers as insensitive as shards of ice. He remembered the vaporous fumaroles of his breath as he chuckled uncontrollably at the Winter nestled in his very bones.

He remembered how Jing Yuan's skin had felt almost feverishly warm when he finally caught him, and how firm his desperate grip had been, the long slender fingers like a shackle around his scarred wrist.

He and Jingliu had always looked as if they had been birthed by the first winter snows, with their silverish and lily-white hair who only emphasized the burning heat of their gaze, sun-gold and ember-garnet. A shell of distant and detached coldness, hiding a heart that burned, burned, burned.

Where he was nestled against him, nestled in the embrace of Ren's arms, Jing Yuan was warm. Warm rather than scorching, comfort rather than ferocity.

(The warmth of a stove, of a hearth, of a home to return to.)

His breathing was a warm, delicate pressure where he nuzzled Ren's neck, the calm and soothing rhythm characteristic of deep sleep. Ren observed him for a moment, before kissing his temple tenderly, soft lips against soft skin.

Because everything was soft, soft, soft. From the soft glow of a breaking dawn behind the curtains to their crumpled sheets and blankets. To the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in unison and Ren's own blissfully silent mind.

(And the world enfold, in a warm and luminous dream. There, all is beauty and symmetry, pleasure and calm and luxury.)

With a peaceful sigh, Ren let his eyelids close again as he buried his face in his lover's mane, inhaling with delight the soothing, familiar scent of benzoin. Jing Yuan had always favored this sweet and sugary vanilla-almond scent rather than the more heady scents of cedar or sandalwood.

It was the first thing Ren remembered when they finally saw each other again. This scent like that of candy, for a smile that was just as sweet.

For a boy who became a man, who remained just as gentle, just as tender, just as warm and inviting.

Despite everything. Or, perhaps, because of everything.

Cuddlesss♡♡

Had a lil thingy lying around

[saunne]

[The Dweller]

Saunne ⁕ Unne ⁕ Aiden

22 ⁕ 🇫🇷 / 🇬🇧

🏳️‍⚧️⚧️ ⁕ He/They

Historian ⁕ Librarian

Writing ⁕ Floriography ⁕ IRL Anecdotes ⁕ Misc. Reblogs

No DNI, I curate myself my own environment. Blank blogs will be automatically blocked.

Asks : Closed.

Tag Games/Chain : I will do the ones that interest me, but feel free to @ me.

⁕ Profile picture by my platonic spouse, @aratribow ⁕

[MAIN FANDOM] - HONKAI: STAR RAIL

Multishipper ⁕ Smut Writer 🔞 ⁕ BDSM/Kinks Enjoyer

Remember the three rules of fandom :

Don't Like, Don't Read

Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That's Okay

Ship And Let Ship

[Other Fandoms]

Tokyo Revengers

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Demon Slayer

Haikyuu

Bleach

MXTX works : Modao Zushi (MDZS), Heaven's Official Blessing (TGCF), Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (SVSSS)

Games : Genshin Impact ; Hades ; Stardew Valley

[The Writings]

Original Projects : @erasde + [It's Vampire Time]

AO3 :

[Tags]

#unneism : All my original posts.

#unnanswers : asks answers.

#unne's library stuff : everything about libraries, librarianship and anecdotes as a librarian.

#unne's life stuff : anecdotes from daily life, personal stuff, musing.

#unnewrites : My writing. Fanfic presentation / updates, snippets, quotes as well as original writing.

#unne's promo snippets : Promotional snippets from my works.

#unne's art raid : Snippets wrote under an artwork.

#unneocs : Post related to my ocs. Each one also have their specific tags (Masterpost to come).

#reblobs & #self reblobs : Reblogs from other blogs or my own older original posts.

#are queue ready for it ? : All the interesting content I've stacked in the processing vortex.

#unne reblobs art : quick tag to find all the art I reblog.

#unne reblobs misc : for other types of posts.

#I quiz Uquiz We quiz : All the Uquiz I took, with links and my results under the cut.

[Unne's Favorite Posts]

Tips on Writing Floriography

Because He Is Nothing If Not Made Of Love [Artist/Writer PVP with @myakkoh and @itsredpaint ]

HSR THEORY - Bailu is set up to fail by the Preceptors

HSR THEORY - PENACONY AND THE FAMILY

HSR THEORY - PENACONY ANALYSIS

About weeding/pruning in libraries

[saunne]

Here is the fic !

It's a really sweet JingRenHeng bath scene, full fluff and them taking care of each others !

doodles i made based on this fic by @saunne! PLEASE READ.

[saunne]

Oh gosh, I love Hanahaki AU so much. Also, I really appreciate the the care you took in choosing the flowers ! Dahlias and Daffodils are not flowers that I often see in Hanahakis.

Daffodils, for unrequited love and Dahlias for eternal love and commitment. Dahlias are frequently used in wedding bouquets because they represent longevity alongside commitment. Which only makes the irony even more tragic.

The art is wonderful, and the expression on Jing Yuan's face is heartbreaking.

hanahaki au

[saunne]

*looks if spouse already reblobbed it*

*she did not*

@aratribo Araaaaaaaaaaa, wife delivery at your doorstep

emerge

[saunne]

i hate him his eyes are unironically worse to draw than ren because whAT COLOR ARE THEY

I just saw this in my dash and, you know, it looks like a call from destiny. Because just yesterday the jinrenheng server I'm on had the pleasure to witness my mental breakdown over how fucking hot Yingxing is.

SO.

I now have a goddamn list of a whole bunch of flowers in all shades of purplish-blue, parma, mauve, pale violet, bluish-purple that you can use as inspiration.

Aquilegia : Madness

Anemonoides nemorosa (wood anemone) : pain caused by love

Campanula (bellflowers) : constancy, everlasting love, gratitude

Colchicum (autumn crocus) : my “beaux jours” (as in halcyon days) are gone

Dictamnus albus (fraxinella, burning bush) : fire

Digitalis (foxglove) : ardor and work, pride

Heliotropium (amplexicaule type) : violent attachment, loving more than oneself, intoxication, abandonment, I love you

Hibiscus Syriacus (syrian ketmia) : eternity, inexhaustible abundance

Hyacinth : love, sorrow, you love me and cause me to die,

Hydrangea : idyll, coldness, indifference, fallen reputation, forgotten glory, steady love

Lathraea clandestina (purple toothwort) : hidden love

Malva (mallows) : humanity

Myosotis (forget-me-not) : don't forget me, remember me

Oxalis : joy

Passiflora caerulea (blue passion flower) : faith

Polemonium (Jacob's-ladders) : severance, connection between human/divine, coming down

Primula pauciflora (Dodecatheon) : you are my divinity

Scabiosa (nicknamed widow-flower in french) : cruel abandonmen

Solanum dulcamara (bittersweet nightshade) : truth

Syringa (lilac) : first emotion of love

Teucrium (creticum specie) : the more I see you, the more I love you

Tradescantia virginiana (virginia spiderwort) : Fleeting happiness, Ephemeral Happiness

Vinca (periwinkle) : sweet memories, lifelong friendships

Viola tricolor (heartsease, love-in-idleness, wild pansy) : thought, I share your feelings, expressive memory

maybe i'm guilty of favoritism

[saunne]

OH MY FUCKING GOD DID YOU JUST MADE ME FANART ????

fghjkujyt I didn't even thought that someone could actually draw stuff based on / inspired by my fic oh my god. Let's thanks Tumblr “For You” page for shoving it right in my face I guess ????

And yes, this is what it is. Demon Slayer is about Giyuu saying "fuck" and adopting every kids and non-kids on sight to make his big perfect family because otherwise, what's the point of fighting if you have nothing to return to ?

Also I like their little faces so much, they look so silly, I want to squish them. Inosuke and Genya being scar buddies is perfect and Muichiro's expression fills me with joy.

Best find of the day, you're lovely 💙🩵

Demon Slayer is about single father Giyuu with his 8 kids right?

(With personal hc I’ve always wanted to to at least once 😖👉🏾👈🏾)

Fatherhood: How it started vs How it’s going

No children suddenly became 8

[saunne]

@aratribo wife come get your other spouse, she got lost on my dash

two versions

[saunne]

Jing Yuan is part of a future to which he does not yet belong and to which he has perhaps, in fact, never really wanted to belong. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, something that cries out for hope and new love, for the warmth of the sun and laughter like bells. He can see silhouettes cut out like shadows against the light, beckoning him to join them and rejoice.

(And the world enfold, in a warm and luminous dream. There, all is beauty and symmetry, pleasure and calm and luxury.)

But Jing Yuan grew up accustomed to the dark, to the solitary sweetness of the night. What would he be without the feather-light brush of its veils, nestled in its tender hands and the comfort of its embrace ?

(And he sleeps and sleeps and sleeps as the night of his closed eyelids offers him the sanctuary of past dreams. There's no remedy for memory, but he does not wish to be free. He'll live for the escapism, motionless witness and forever-living anachronism.)

What would he be without the childlike wonder at the lucky sight of a comet's tail, pale and feathery and as fleeting as the blink of an eye ? What would he be without the watchful eye of a distant and changing moon, whose ice-cold glow yet felt warm ? What would he be without the intangible reflection of this same moon, much closer but so much more inaccessible, whose simplest touch of this drowned solitude blurred its outline until it became unrecognizable ? What would it be without the faint glow of the stars, distant and forgotten except for those who dare to look at what remains after the gravitational collapse ?

(And isn’t that ironic, isn’t that sad, isn’t that dramatic ? Embodiment of sunlight, vainly in love with the night ?)

(But even the darkest night will end, for the sun will rise.)

Jing Yuan is the observer, the witness, the record. He is the sacrificial Atlas on whose shoulders the world rests, suffering under its weight without ever belonging to it. He chained himself to the ruins in the hope of becoming part of it, despite the fact that the world is moving forward, despite the fact that the world is forgetting, despite the fact that no one wants to hear about it anymore, not even those first concerned.

(Leave the past in the past, Jing Yuan, they say.)

I'm not him, he says. I'm not him anymore, he says. That's all in the past, she says.

(It's time to move forward Jing Yuan, she says.)

He looks at the future and those advancing towards it, drinking in the sight of a glittering path of dawn-colored promises. He listens to the promises carried by the solar wind and to the rest whispered in the warm glow of a new sun as he longs for the solace of his tormented soul.

His fingers are numb and clumsy as he picks up the pieces of himself from the ruins. Their edges are still sharp, as even time hasn't been able to round the edges of his mourning. But he picks them up anyway, even if it hurts, even if he bleeds.

(If not for the obligation, then for love.)

It is with love that he cradles them in his soiled hands. It is with love that he caresses their sharp and aching edges. It is with love that he smears red, red like thread, like ribbons, like promises and betrayal, like a destiny already written and still being traced.

His blood is red, red, red.

Destiny-red, Luck-red, Hope-red, Renewal-red, Fate-red, Love-red.

It is with love, for love, through love that he comes together whole again, piece by piece. He is nothing without love but love will never be reduced to nothing.

Love endures, persists, survives.

So it goes like this :

Jing Yuan is made of love. Jing Yuan endures, persists, survives despite everything, despite himself even. Jing Yuan comes together, piece by piece, with a lacquer that is but blood, that is but fluid and tenacious Love-red, until it holds, until it sticks, until it stays.

Jing Yuan gets up, his legs trembling and his back aching from being bent over for so long, and he moves forward, step by step. Behind him his chains rattle and sing and rustle, and they are not chains but threads and ribbons and red, red, red. They don't break, no, because that would be far too cruel, but they become gentler, tender, more bearable.

(They were threads and ribbons before becoming chains so a ribbon they become again. Jing Yuan smiles as he threads it through his hair, a simple memorabilia rather than a cruel reminder. An unsightly thing made beautiful again.)

Jing Yuan moves forward on a glittering path of dawn-colored promises, abandoning ruins left to decay under the watchful gaze of eternal night. The light at the end of the tunnel embraces him and welcomes his return with a warm and loving glow.

He lets the sunlight kiss the lacquered fissures of his broken being, until the blood-lacquer-love piecing him together turns to gold.

Jing Yuan is made of love and loss, but it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And Jing Yuan loved and was loved, from the sweet beginnings to the bitter ending.

And Jing Yuan loves and will love again.

(Because he is nothing if not made of love.)

"You are nothing without them. Nothing."

.

There were five, and of all of them, Jing Yuan is the last. The last to remember, the last to fight, the last to—something. But he hasn't gotten here by himself. How does he explain that his existence is owed to the four of them?

He is nothing without them, when they are the ones who nourished him, loved him, cared for him, allowed him to walk forward alongside them.

("That's right.")

There is nothing left of him when he is made up of their love and their smiles, the way they impart the memories to him, how they mourned and adored and made the mistakes they've made, fallen particles of sand as they slip through his fingers.

("Keep going.")

He's left behind, like the fool he is.

Without them, he is nothing. Without them, he is just Jing Yuan. What is Jing Yuan, if there is no High Cloud Quintet?

("You are nothing, that's what.")

((A tear slips down his cheek. He takes no notice of it.))

Nothing but dust. Nothing but the last one standing. Nothing.

Just–

Nothing.

[saunne]

BAHAHA YOU REALLY QUOTED ME. I ALREADY GOT PINNED IN THE NSFW WALL OF SHAME AND NOW IT'S IN THE OPEN LMAOOOOO

I am gratefully thanking you for the food and indulging my horny ass obsessed with this selfcest ship 😌

This is hot as fuck and I'll definitely end up writing some good content with that open in a side tab for inspiration and motivation.

Also fair warning to my followers : I put this in the processional vortex more commonly known as queue so expect to see that in your dash at least once a month from now on.

Love you Ara, you're the best platonic spouse one could dream of even if the Welt/Kafka crackship we ended up representing in the old friend discord server is something no one would ever think of while sober xD

A gift for my lovely platonic spouse @saunne 😎💖💖

Also for peeps who are witnessing this shift from wholesome cutesy content to not sfw shit just know, that it was bound to happen

"Y'all got cute now get my spouse's nsfw present. Same room, two vibes, we did a 380° drift while y'all were not looking." -saunne

[saunne]

“Eyes on me, Yingxing," they ordered in a whisper, their slender hand coming to lift his chin with velvet-touch authority. Their thumb lightly dug into the softness of his lower lip, the touch teasing.

“Where else would I even look ?” he chuckled, panting. "What else could I look at other than you, A-Feng ?"

Since the first day, since that first time, Yingxing had never been able to take his eyes off them. Fascinated, mesmerized even by the delicate grace, the controlled power, the serene calm of the one whom the Luofu had revered as "Yinyue-jun", the title escaping from their unworthy lips in murmurs of awe.

Yingxing had observed from afar at first, drowned in the crowd of unknown existences, admiring something that felt forever out of reach. A superior and untouchable existence, an ersatz god who lowered themselves to walk among their faithful believers, disdainful of those not of their kin.

But in the end, Yingxing had been the one who had been approached. He had been the one who had been pursued, the one who had been courted, the one who had been lured by honey-sweet words until he was trapped into an inescapable orbit.

(And oh, how people laughed at that proud and arrogant mortal craftsman's downfall. Snatched away by a dragon, said to be insatiable and yet asked so little.)

There's quite a bit of content BUT I CRAVE, and so, I make

Some xingyue for all of us

[saunne]

*inhales*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- I can now die in peace.

HE IS SO PRETTY OMG. ARA. ARA THE HANDS. THE HAIR BEHIND THE EAR. THE SIDE GLANCE WITH THE PRETTIEST PALE LAVENDER EYES KNOWN TO MANKIND.

THE GODDAMN FUCKING LIPSTICK (Someone should smudge it don't you think. He looks too perfect. Needs to make him a lil more messy you know).

Also the lil head wings looks so fluffy I wanna touch it so bad omg it would probably be so soft cause I know this man has to be very concerned about his looks and he would take care of it so meticulously. Do you think he keeps the fallen feathers ? I bet he does. I bet he has a lil pouch somewhere where he puts the lil fluffy feathers.

I will so much make a custom of making stuffed toys for the babies with the parents lost feathers as filling, for protection and luck and family link. And Yingxing doesn't know if he'll ever have children but he does it you know, just in case.

I bet the feathers have significance. I want an Halovian customs of exchanging feathers when you start to date/courting someone. Like making a little trinket. I want Yingxing to make an earring of his feather and gift it to his partner. If it's Dan Feng, I want them to make a scale/feather exchange and to wear fucking jewelry made of it as a "I'll always have a little bit of you with me even if you're not here for now".

I NEED TO SEE THIS WINGS USED ALONGSIDE EXPRESSIONS. Like covering the mouth when snickering or when he eats for more politeness. Using his wings to cover his face as a makeshift facepalm of pure despair. Using it to refresh himself like it's a fan when too hot (really useful in the forge). Using it to hide his flushed face when embarrassed and be even more embarrassed that he covered it by pure reflex.

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT HALOVIAN YINGXING. SO MANY OF IT.

I AM UNWELL WIFE. TAKE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.

Dear Aeons above I am so fucking gay.

Halovian yx just to fuel my poor lil thesis writing platonic husband @saunne , aren't I a good wife cooking u hot meals ,';)