Lolo_07
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
“Guess we’ll have to compromise,” Childe replied, holding a hand to his bubbling chest. He peered up at Sergei’s displeased scowl. It wasn’t a terrible view. “Brighten up, sunshine. Smile a little. You took the challenge. You delivered.”
Sergei did not take to that kindly, his grimace a dangerous flash of teeth on an already very angry face.
Diluc Ragnvindr, revenge-fueled, was on the collision course, hurtling his way to self-annihilation. Which was to say, this phoenix did not rise from the ashes; it migrated, flew North, and nested in the crown of a Snezhnayan larch tree.
Diluc thinks himself subtle, roosting out on the tundra.
Two larch trees, two cuckoos, an ostentatious Harbinger, a vigilante with a vendetta against the very world that Childe wants to crush beneath his heel.
And who exactly was Diluc Ragnvindr, anyway?
-
Tags
Summary
Childe doesn't remember seeing someone covered in more blood, yet still alive and conscious, than he has in this moment stood in The Doctor's lab.
-
Tags
Summary
Claymore? Check. Probably stolen delusion? Check. Extremely hot? Check. Ajax is already half gone. Fuck.
See, if Ajax didn't currently have his dick out mid-piss maybe he would have fought the delusion thief then and there. But unfortunately that is not the case.
!edited!
-
Tags
Summary
Companion story to 'Where I Belong' (a heixkazu vampire Au)
Can be read on it's own as well
...
Chapter 1 (Venti) -
Venti never wanted to see the outside world. It was safer within the walls of his community
That was, until his life was changed forever.
What does it mean to be chosen?...
Chapter 2 (Xiao) -
He's seen a real monster, now, to find one again.
Alatus knows what few others out there know. Monsters are real. Vampires are no myth. Humans are food.
And he refuses to be the next meal....
Chapter 3 (Kaeya & Venti & Diluc)
What changes a person and what makes a monster...Series
- Part 3 of Life Eternally Ours (the additions)
-
Tags
Summary
The ever-so-quiet footsteps of the captain became louder as he descended the stairs. Despite his best efforts... Creak. The bartender's hands found their way to his ears yet again. No one will ever understand his hatred for those creaky stairs, the rusty door hinges, the bell above the door, the tunes a certain green pipsqueak plays, the hellspawn of a noise the cloth makes every so often while polishing glasses. The burning passion he has for things others don't even notice- as if they couldn't even hear any of them... Maybe they just act like they don't? Maybe he's just overreacting. His oh-so-familiar train of thought is interrupted by a question he has been asked at least a million times- well before things went so very wrong that April night…nevermind.