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Latest Posts by yotasxke - Page 2
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noe ✩ he/him mostly reblogs! ensemble stars!! music, obey me!, blue period & genshin impact dni if -12/23+ please!
⟢ read carrd bfyi ⟢
HE ALREADY HAS AN INFERIORITY COMPLEX LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!!
can’t believe shinji got beat out by a honest to god squid
im in love
in full bloom.
beautiful, the whisper and wonder of it all fit diluc ragnvindr in his entirety. (you, diluc, and the language of flowers in the city of mondstadt.)
pairing. diluc ragnvindr / gn! reader genre. fluff, slice-of-life romance, non-linear narrative word count. 3,089
note. reposted from my old blog and cross-posted on ao3 in honor of his skin (i know it’s been weeks but i cannot get over his skin. i haven’t even played his quest yet.) definitely one of my faves. i swear i am not a diluc kisser.
You almost miss it—the hushed word that rolls off his tongue as you pass by Flora’s display of flowers.
“Beautiful,” he says to no one in particular. You wonder if he really intends to say it out loud or at all, eyes bright and glancing over to each potted plant, lingering for a moment longer on the Cecilias.
It is but a fleeting moment, and maybe it’s just a trick your senses had chosen to play because before you could even begin to think about what it means, he takes a step forward and continues his walk; neither confident nor modest, not standing too proudly but not hunching either. He walks as if he’s thinking of nothing else but the way the pavement beneath his feet carries him as he strides across the Mondstadt streets.
He exudes what you would expect Diluc Ragnvindr to exude: an inexplicable presence that definitely would make the second of awe he had of the blooms dancing with the wind seem like it was only a figment of your imagination.
Diluc stops in his tracks, slowly turns on the balls of his feet and raises his brows at you, not of authority but of just genuine curiosity.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and you only realize that you’ve been standing in the same spot for a time now. You feel the heat creep up your face.
“Yes,” you cough. It’s unsure, and definitely embarrassed. You hurriedly catch up to him, jogging a few steps before repeating, “yes.”
Diluc nods, and you try not to think about it again.
“Is this fine?” you ask, cautious and patient as you squat down and pat the grass at the edge of the lake. You watch Diluc as his steps stutter for a moment only before nodding and settling down beside you.
Diluc accompanies you to your travels the week after the little encounter at Floral Whisper, and he remains silent for most of the time. Unfortunately, you did think about it; the quiet whisper of beautiful and the even quieter wonder his eyes had shown. You did think about the possibility of seeing that Diluc once more, childlike and sunny, for maybe a second longer next time.
Your gaze wanders across the lake, then to the small bed of rock where a waypoint stood, glimmering shyly in blue. There are frogs jumping around and lizards crawling everywhere.
“Are you afraid of them?” you wonder aloud before you could even bite your tongue. Ah, you think, oh no.
After adventuring all morning to purge nearby hillichurl camps and jump around collecting crystalflies, Diluc had suggested finding a place to rest. A quick dip in cool water has always been pleasant, so you led him to Springvale. The chatter of the hunters in the town just behind you and the swishing waters of the waterfalls seem to be enough white noise between you and Diluc, and you’re both tired, of course Diluc wouldn’t interest himself in such idle chit-chats.
Diluc shakes off his boots and rolls his pant legs up, sits on the edge, and dips his feet in. It seems methodical but you wonder how much of this is his routine. He is a renowned adventurer, after all. He says not a single word and you don’t really mind. Maybe you could just pretend that you never asked the question at all, as embarrassing as it is. This is Diluc and you know him, not interested in small talks and whatnot.
But he hums, and it’s quiet, before he snorts, “No.” The small smile playing on his lips stupefies you and it is the second time that you doubt your senses; did he just laugh? Was that even a laugh? Or did he just find my attempt at a conversation pathetic and he thinks I’m ridiculous and– “I’m not afraid of them, but they are bothersome.”
It feels as if the weight has been released off your chest. So it was a laugh, huh. Who knew.
You soon follow suit, submerging your feet in the cold waters of the lake, watching as the surface ripples. You lean back, not being able to stop the sigh of relief that escapes your mouth. The silence covers you like a blanket and it’s actually a delight. There is nothing but the waters washing away the soreness of your feet, and the fiery red man sitting beside you, and the Calla Lilies behind you, and the boar across the lake.
(You wonder if Kaeya were here and would agree on making an ice bridge just to catch the boar and get a few pieces of raw meat because you assume that none of you would want to swim.)
(Oh, speaking of Kaeya.)
Your hand reaches to pluck a Calla Lily out of the grass and you bring it close to your face, fingers twisting and eyes scanning the flower carefully as if you’re trying to pry its secrets apart. You’re not, and the flower probably holds no secrets anyway. You’re just thinking about how the Calla Lily is actually more known as the chubby lotus of Mondstadt and you want to giggle even more because — “Isn’t the Calla Lily Kaeya’s favorite flower?”
Diluc stops swinging his feet to turn to you, and he snorts. It’s a laugh, and you’re sure this time.
“What a silly thing to ask me,” he says.
“I had a feeling you’d know what his favorite is.”
Diluc nods, and he props his arm against the grass bed to lean back, watch the afternoon clouds. You don’t know if the nod is an affirmation of the Calla Lilies being his brother’s favorite flower, or of the fact that he knows. Maybe both.
The blanket returns and the silence stretches until the sun starts to set. You wonder if you should ask Diluc to go back to the city now, or to wait for him to ask instead. You watch the side of his face and gauge the next words to say, but nothing comes.
Diluc notices this, probably, because he breaks the silence instead. “Do you like them?”
You furrow your brows instead of giving him a proper answer so he clarifies, with a shade of pink tinting his cheeks, “The Calla Lilies, I mean.” Diluc clears his throat and looks away, the water splashing when he kicks and you wonder if this is another glimpse of the childlike, sunny Diluc you saw last week, in front of the flower shop inside Mondstadt’s gates.
“They’re okay,” you answer meekly. “They’re pretty, but I don’t like the way they taste.”
You continue to describe how the taste of the chubby lotuses feels absolutely repulsive on your tongue and how you were forced to drink Calla Lily medicine when you were a kid, when you get sick. They work, but that doesn’t take away the fact that these cute, orange flowers are better off to be admired than to be consumed. Diluc listens intently and the sun is now nowhere to be seen. The night has fallen and the Calla Lilies around the lake of Springvale bow as if to nap, and the story-telling of how you have a love-hate relationship with the flower has come to an end.
“Yeah,” Diluc breathes, maybe as an affirmation to everything you’ve said; an assurance to say that he did listen to every word, so he repeats, “yeah. I don’t either.”
Diluc had told you that he doesn’t get the appeal of Dandelions. They’re just bulbs of tiny seeds, he says, and he doesn’t think that they’re on par with the beauty of the rest of Mondstadt’s flowers.
Maybe he just doesn’t know how the Dandelion seeds spread their wings.
The moment you both had the opportunity to wander around, no commissions or duties whatsoever, you grab his wrist and pull him outside the city walls—Diluc’s well-kept and upheld image and presence be damned. The winds sing of freedom and the Dandelions sway to its tune.
“Dandelions,” you start, letting Diluc’s wrist go to allow you to crouch in front of a stem of one, “ride on the wind. Even without its feathered wings, it still holds the hope from afar within.”
You glance at Diluc, his presence still alluring as ever, and you wait for any sign of agreement or, at the very least, acknowledgment from him. He sways on the balls of his feet, brows knitted, before adding, “In a sense, the Dandelion represents the romantic spirit of love and freedom.” There is a hint of mischief in the corners of his mouth. “Right?”
Right. You could only roll your eyes at the red-haired man before turning your attention back to the Dandelion once again. You scoff at him—at the very obvious fact that of course he knows that. “Someone has the Mondstadt library archive entries memorized,” you tease.
Diluc imitates your position with his legs squatted and elbows rested on his thighs, except he’s an arms-length away from you and the Dandelion so you don’t really consider that as making a ton of progress.
You carefully pull the stem of the Dandelion and take a few steps toward where Diluc is, still crouching and all. He watches you move closer and there is evident confusion in his eyes, but he does not dare to move.
“I learned about Dandelions because they’re used in winemaking,” he retorts to your earlier jab that, to be quite honest, you’ve already forgotten.
You raise the bulb of Dandelion to his face, between you and him. You sway it carefully, only letting a few of its seeds fly away. Diluc remains confused, and he does not even try to hide it.
“I used to make wishes on Dandelions,” you beam, voice just as bright. “I believe that they could carry my desires to Celestia when they fly with the wind.”
The inexplicable presence that Diluc Ragnvindr carries falters for a second when it sinks in that your words are not a story, but a suggestion. You should try it, you mean to say. Make a wish. You only chose to word it that way because you know that Diluc wouldn’t hesitate to decline if you didn’t.
A sudden gust of wind blows, and a number of dandelion seeds fly—to you, to your left, towards the water, to the bridge, and to–
Oh no.
The inexplicable presence that Diluc Ragnvindr carries falters, completely now, when his nose crinkles and he sniffs and sniffs and he tries to rub away the itch in his nose but… well, he sneezes and it blows the rest of the seeds on the Dandelion bulb away.
With eyes wide, you watch as his cheeks and ears turn bright red. You would joke about how you almost don’t know where his fiery red hair starts and ends if you aren’t so shocked with it either.
“I…” he trails, then he sneezes again. “I made a wish before it all flew away.”
This time, your mouth drops. That’s… unexpected, isn’t it? I made a wish before it all flew away. Perhaps this is another glance at the childlike and sunny Diluc you’ve been wanting to see again since.
Diluc smiles sheepishly. “I like Dandelions, but they make my nose itch.”
The laugh you’ve been trying to hold back now comes in full force. It starts with a chuckle, and then it turns into small chortles, then it’s now just good, good laughs. Diluc, without a hint of the authority he always embodies, laughs with you.
Visible winds are what the citizens of Mondstadt call the plant that adores the wind—the Windwheel Asters. In Stormterror’s Lair, its petals spin and spin and you remember that Vind once told you that Windwheel Asters cannot grow in places with no wind nor plagued by strong storms. The orange flowers find rhythm in winds of gentle and nourishing give.
“It’s unbelievable, almost,” you tell Diluc with the raise of your fingers, a gesture to exaggerate your disbelief. “These asters seem out of place in Stormterror’s Lair.”
“Yes,” he affirms, then bends down and picks a flower by his feet. Its petals still spin in all its beauty and the contrast of its vibrance against the backdrop of the ruins, dark and alone, emphasizes the very purpose of it. Visible winds.
Diluc walks forward to hand you the aster, then he trudges back to pluck himself another one. He continues, “But they only grow where there are tender winds. It only means that the lair is not as desolate as the citizens believe it to be.”
You know what Diluc means. That Stormterror is still Dvalin; that he is still one of the Four Winds, the entities that the Anemo Archon entrusted the safety of Mondstadt to.
That there are still protectors of Mondstadt even if they are nowhere to be seen, impalpable but still ever-present, like–
Wind. This is, after all, the nation of wind.
Diluc probably does not mean refer to himself with his words at all, but you do. You fiddle with the Windwheel Aster in your hand and you watch its petals make the presence of the gentle winds known. An invisible force that guides the city of Mondstadt. Then you recall the gloved hand that holds the heavy claymore, the red hair that slashes through the breeze. Each move in a battle, calculated and done with grace.
You remember the legend of the Darknight Hero and how Diluc doesn’t want the people to know his name. You remember Diluc and you believe that there are still protectors of Mondstadt even if they are nowhere to be seen.
At late noon, the surrounding areas of Wolvendom become clear of any threat of hillichurls and Ruin Guards.
Diluc looks as if he isn’t tired at all, the sweat trickling down the side of his face seeming like a mere ornament. The sun is starting to set and the oncoming night paints the road up the territory of the Wolf of the North. The fiery red man props his claymore on the ground, steadying before he leans against it. You’re spread out on the grass, not even bothering for shame and modesty anymore.
“Unfair,” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at Diluc. “How are you not exhausted after all that?”
Diluc gives you a small laugh, and he looks at the row of Small Lamp Grasses across. “It has become routine to me.”
You follow his trail of sight, propping your elbows against the ground to sit up slightly. The wildflowers sit in silence and you almost hear crickets deep in the woods of Wolvendom, empty in the slowly unfolding night.
“We don’t have anything else for today, right?” you ask, the question lingering on your tongue. Diluc hums. “Then…”
“Then?”
“Would it be alright if we stay here until nighttime? Just until the lamp grasses light up.” There is heat growing on your ears, so you supply almost immediately with, “It’s alright if you don’t want to! I just want–”
“It’s fine,” Diluc cuts you off. He settles his claymore down and sits at a safe distance beside you. “They don’t show their wonder until night, after all. I want to see them light up, too.”
Diluc walks as if he’s thinking of nothing else but the way the ground beneath his feet carries him as he strides across Mondstadt.
He exudes what you would expect Diluc Ragnvindr to exude: an inexplicable presence that definitely would make the second of awe he had of the blooms dancing with the wind seem like it was only a figment of your imagination.
You know this. You’ve seen it for so many times and it still churns something in you. The thing is, though—the childlike and sunny Diluc Ragnvindr is not a figment of your imagination, after all.
At the base of the Starsnatch Cliff, a lone Cecilia sways with the breeze. You think there’s nothing special about it, for there are probably several more of the flowers on the way up. Diluc thinks otherwise, however.
Diluc asked you to come along with him somewhere. That somewhere, you find out now, is Starsnatch Cliff. The lone Cecilia comes into his view and he wastes no time to stride towards it. He crouches, removes his glove, then traces the petals of it with a nimble finger.
This is Diluc, still. You know this. You’ve seen it for so many times and it still churns something in you. This is not a figment of your imagination.
Mirth swirls in his fiery red eyes and somehow, he looks younger. Boyish, and unlike how he usually is. He turns to you and ushers you to come closer, so you do. This is the Diluc who stood in awe in front of Floral Whisper that day.
“Cecilias are my favorite,” he begins this time. “I don’t know why, but I’m just so drawn into them. They’re beautiful.”
Beautiful, the whisper and wonder of it all fit Diluc Ragnvindr in his entirety.
Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? You’ve knocked on the large wooden door of the Dawn Winery manor and you’ve heard the footsteps of the young master growing louder at each second. Maybe–
The door opens and it reveals the embodiment of beautiful and you’re speechless. Maybe this is a mistake, but maybe you don’t mind making this mistake.
“Sorry,” you apologize as soon as you come to your senses. Diluc looks down at the bouquet in your hand, an arrangement of Mondstadt flowers with Cecilias in its center. The embarrassment washes into you now and words immediately escape your mouth, “Are these flowers okay? I’m sorry if it’s an overkill. You don’t have to accept it. I know Cecilias are your favorite so I asked Flora to make them like this. Ah, I should’ve asked if you wanted something like this at all. I’m sorry–”
Diluc propels to you to take the bouquet and set it aside. He pulls you closer, holds you by your shoulders then decides to hold your face between his warm hands instead. It sets your skin on fire but it doesn’t hurt, because Diluc protects and never intends to hurt anyone in any way.
This isn’t a mistake, because Diluc Ragnvindr will never be a mistake.
He puts his lips to use in the absence of words, planting a kiss against your forehead, childlike and sunny; beauty and all.
everything i needed to see in life in just one fanart
Seven Deadly Sins
Original
why is this so canon
first impressions
childe and his red scarf how do people even dislike him hes so cute
cozy taru…
are writers real how are they able to write something so beautiful
date me, please. oh, we're already dating?
[ kaedehara kazuha x s/o ]
summary: drunk and utterly wasted is kaedehara kazuha. but he's also drunk in love. it's a good thing you are too.
notes: was typing the phoenix fic but i have to get this out of the way so I DON'T KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED GOD DAMN IT KAZUHA | m.list
words: 928 | warnings: alcohol ofc
you're about to punch venti into a pulp.
by the time your group had left the tavern, it was already dark and most of the city folk were already tucked inside their home, with the exception of a few knights and drunkards outside who greeted you a good night… and a concerned look at the boy hanging over your shoulders.
"i want… a ukulele!" he gushed, giggling uncontrollably, "did you see,"—he cuts himself with a giggle—"that one bard with a small… a veeeery small! oh it was a tiny little thing! with strings!"
"yes, i saw love. i was there with you."
the walk to the inn was quiet, only his occasional rambles of traveling, the things the wind tells him, and the random giggles that he does.
archons, he's adorable.
it didn't take long before you reached the inn, lugging kazuha over your shoulder across the stairs and to your room. the man simply fell into the bed like a sack of potatoes, plopping on the soft sheets with his whole weight. yet his face sports a dreamy smile—his eyes are still closed and he resumes his faint whispers of his dreams.
"you better be glad i love you enough to deal with this."
with slacking limbs and weary drowsy eyes from exhaustion—not to mention it's been a long day of traveling for the two of you, with the addition of xinyan—you quickly went around the room to clean up, taking a damp towel and a glass of water with you to the bedside table, taking a seat besides a giggling mess of a kazuha.
"love, are you asleep?"
he muttered something in response, eyes still shut and a loopy smile.
despite the extra weight on your way to the inn, you can't deny that the sight of kazuha being vulnerable and loose—albeit with the influence of alcohol—does not make you feel a little at ease. he doesn't make it look obvious, but kazuha had always been on the guard for something. perhaps it had been a natural thing for him to be cautious and careful even from his younger days, but it certainly makes you happy to see him having his moments to let his guard down, even for a while.
you just hope it won't always be from the influence of alcohol, he can barely handle a few drinks.
you press the damp towel on his forehead, wiping down around his face. your other hand thread through his hair, combing and taking it out from its usual ponytail.
at your concentration and inner state of mind, you failed to notice how his half-lidded and woozy eyes opened to stare at you. sluggish, but desperate to touch you in some way, he wraps his hand weakly around your wrist.
"love?" you glance down at him quizzically.
"am i your 'love'?"
"huh?"
he squinted his eyes right back at you, lips tilted to a pout.
"you called someone 'love'. am i not your 'love'? do you call someone else your 'love'?"
you couldn't stop yourself from huffing, amused. however, this only made him frown, an uncharacteristic whine coming from him and his hand that was holding your wrist flails in a mini tantrum.
"whyyy? why, why, why? why not meeee? are we not lovers?"
"kazu—"
"noooo," he whines, taking your hand to place sloppy kisses on your knuckles, "you can't call me by that name! date me right now! call me love! i love yooou, it's not fair!"
you just hoped that no one would complain about the loud laughing fit you made at this time of the night, but can they really blame you? here he is, drunk and being the most adorable idiot there is. who are you to not find this endearing?
"love—" you grin at the satisfied happy hum he made at the pet name, "—we're already dating."
his smile fell to a shock look, gasping audibly and his eyes lighting up, putting the moon and the lamp beside you to shame.
he looks very much awake—and breathtakingly handsome—despite being wasted.
"w-we are?"
ah, he looks as ecstatic as he did when you first reciprocate his feelings.
"yes, we are, love."
as if to accentuate your words, you litter kisses all over his face, grinning at the chimes of delighted giggles and slight upward tilt of his head. his face is practically asking for more kisses. flustered and pink in the cheeks, yet his drunken state seems to diminish his sense of bashfulness.
"i love you," he sang.
"i love you too, love."
he looks so content right now. his rosy cheeks lifted into a precious smile that only tempts you to kiss them—which you did, as you should—and the happy little giggles that he makes. you place another kiss on his nose.
"get some rest, love. we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
he doesn't resist this time—probably because he got his dose of affection from you—easing into a curled position on the bed, your hand is still in his. the smile on his face softens, eyes shutting and his voice more sluggish.
"can you say it again?"
"which one, hm?
"say… say you love me again."
almost immediately, you leaned close to his ear, kissing just above his ear.
"i love you, kazuha."
"aga… again?" he drowsily asked once more, slipping into a peaceful sleep.
"i love you, kaedehara kazuha."
and i'd repeat it however many times you want me to.
"i love you too~"
maybe you won't beat venti into a pulp. for now, at least.
oh my god me and who
archers gloves vs digital artist gloves being opposite of one another
I GOT BUTTERFLIES OMG THIS IS AMAZING
💭 ; bury my heart out of sight (where you don't see me)
synopsis: they planted their heart in the ground, hoping feelings would subside. but they found it sprouting into the world once more (the moment they knew they were in deep but didn't speak their truth)
!! : masterlist.
word count: 2,834
pairings: albedo, itto, scaramouche, xiao x gn!reader (separate)
category: fluff, angst if you squint, modern/high school au, scenarios
warnings: mentions of bruises/injuries in xiao's part, fighting with scaramouche (not too physical)
notes: not afraid to say that the first half of some of these don't make sense- reblogs are greatly appreciated!! might write a part 2 with some other characters or a continuation if this fic does well
ALBEDO.
it was a study of character and emotions in his eyes. a study of character as in he wanted to know why your hands would lace together so nicely with his and why you’d bring a fluttering feeling to his chest when you’d smile. pages upon pages of notes were spread out on the desk, notes with his own observations and some that he’s seen on the internet before. to other’s it must’ve been a surprise to see the usually level-headed blonde so caught up in something that wasn’t a lab experiment. though when said out loud, he just smiled to himself on the inside, for he’s finally experiencing life as it is and not some sort of ship in a bottle.
“albedo?” a small hum leaves his lips, turning in his chair to greet you with a soft smile.
“you’re finally here.” he says, motioning a hand to an empty chair. you take a seat, watching as he sifts through sheets to uncover his sketchbook from beneath the mess and grabbing the pencil from behind his ear “this shouldn’t take too long and sorry again for taking up your time after school.”
“don’t worry about it. i’m in no rush to leave today.” you grin. albedo nods, suppressing the heat that started to creep up his neck. he starts with a few basic outlines on a blank page before letting himself wander and for a while, the soft dance of lead against the paper was the only thing filling the serene silence in the workspace.
“(y/n)?” you blink, tilting your head slightly as light-blue eyes scan your form. a cold hand reaches out, thumb on your chin and the others beneath as he positions your head, making sure the setting sun is hitting you just right. though he doesn’t let go, letting himself bask a little more and to take notice of your features he’s grown to adore.
albedo loves your eyes. that isn’t to say that he doesn’t love all of you, but there was something about the way you gazed at him in the hallways that made him melt. he’s noticed the adoration that pooled within your irises when he’d meet your eyes and the lingering feeling of your touch left him wanting — no — needing more. he wanted to know so badly how a simple glance could have such a great impact. though perhaps coming up to you and asking if he could draw you in the art room wasn’t the greatest way to ease his way into things.
your laugh brings him back to the present; hands gently cupping your face and noses so close they could touch if one of you decided to move.
“albedo?” his eyes trail across your face, from the structure of your brows to the crease of your eyes, before coming to a stop at your lips. temptation rang through him as your curious gaze slowly morphed into a slow understanding. he clears his throat, retracting his hands and stepping back.
“sorry about that.” his heart was beating out of his chest, and it didn’t seem to want to slow down anytime soon, especially when you laugh and give him such a big smile. the words lingered on the tip of his tongue, a simple string of sentences that ended with asking you to be his ready to be released. but instead, he holds them back, shoving them down and only letting out a weak chuckle. there’d be a time for what he wants to say, one that would be perfect and out of a dream but today was not it. he picks up his sketchbook again, rubbing the back of his neck before grabbing his pencil again.
“ah so, where were we again?”
ITTO.
“hey! wait up!” you look back to see itto running towards you, the button up underneath his sweater vest all crumpled and collar undone. it always surprises you how the teachers never seem to scold him for having his uniform all messy. though maybe they just gave up on doing so. he slings an arm around your shoulder, pressing his weight onto you as he hides under your umbrella.
“whew! glad i caught up to you in time before you left.” he grins, bag over one shoulder as his damp hair tickles your neck.
“forget your jacket again, itto?” you chuckle, adjusting the umbrella so it would cover the both of you better “if i’d known that sooner, i would’ve left faster.”
“what? me forgetting my jacket? psh noooooooo as if!” he crosses his arms “it's dangerous to walk home alone y’know so i thought i’d tag along. yeah, to be your bodyguard!
“you know i can handle myself just fine, itto.” you nudge him with your elbow playfully, a smirk on your face.
“oh c’mon!” he groaned “we live close by to each other and i don’t want to go home soaking wet! besides,” he turns his head to face you, a mischievous glint in his eye, before swiping the umbrella out of your hands and starting to jog off “i can always return this to you tomorrow!”
“wait get back here! what happened to wanting to protect me hah?!” his laugh can be heard through the pounding rain as the splash of your footsteps in the puddles only made him run faster. did he feel bad? sort of. itto knew he’d have to make it up to you somehow if you ended up getting sick because of him. apologies wouldn’t mean too much so maybe buying you your favourite snack would work instead. too lost in thought, he failed to notice how your steps have caught up to him.
“hey!” he lets out a grunt as you slap him on the back, making him trip over his own feet. sitting up and rubbing his head, he looks up at your frowning face that didn’t seem to be all too genuine.
“are you hurt?” you ask, picking up the discarded umbrella and scanning him over for any injuries. he patted himself down and gave a thumbs up.
“just my pride and ego but that’s nothing a little kiss wouldn’t fix.” you snort and hold out a hand to him. he takes your hand, fawning on the inside about how perfectly they fit together, before yanking you down to the ground with him, making you drop the one bit of covering you hand in the middle of the street once again.
“bet you weren’t expecting a surprise attack, were ya!” he grins at the sound of your laugh and responds with his own when you wrestle him into a headlock, messing his wet hair around.
“fine you win! but you owe me!” he looks up at you the best he can with his hair in his face and your arm wrapped around his head.
you’d taken off rather quickly after that, using your already soaked through bag as a makeshift umbrella, leaving him with lingering feelings. everything about this felt so right yet so wrong to where he couldn’t help but chuckle. he could only imagine what would’ve happened if he’d accidentally said anything about this. he can’t lose one of his closest friends, not just yet.
“in love with my best buddy, huh?” itto’s grip tightens on your umbrella as he slicks back his hair away from his face “i better not screw this up.”
SCARAMOUCHE.
a string of curses were muttered under his breath as he stormed down the hallway, entering the classroom and shutting the door with a bang. the teacher on duty for the day only gave a half-hearted glare at the cause of the noise as he tossed his bag by a desk. slipping into the desk not too far from yours, scaramouche groans and ruffles his hair, scowling as he sees you resting your head on the desk, arms acting as a pillow. from what he can see, you showed no care that you were stuck in detention and if anything, you appeared more relaxed.
the teacher up at the front closed their book, giving the two of you a pointed look and firm instructions to stay in your seats while they went to go take care of something. the door closed and a beat of silence passed before scaramouche stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the classroom floor. he slams his hands down on your desk, watching you slowly raise your head from your arms to face him and wearing that signature smirk that always sends a rush to his head.
“what now, scara? was the little fight we had in the hallways not enough for you?”
“why did you do it?” his frustrations only grow as you blink, giving no response back. with an angered grunt, he grabs the collar of your shirt and leans over the desk more, pressing you into the back of the seat “answer me!”
“whoa whoa! as far as i’m concerned, i don’t even know what i did besides tossing a few words around.” raising your hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving your face “want to explain what this is all about?”
“you-” he huffs, a red tone coming to his face as he shuts his eyes “you idiot! you’re insufferable to work with!” he released his hold and threw his hands up in frustration, glaring at you.
“ouch. guess i hit a nerve there.” you rubbed the back of your head with a chuckle “but if you want me to remember then you’re going to have to say it.” he clenched a fist at your words. usually, he’d be able to take on conversations like this one with ease, able to keep a calm face while making the other crumble beneath his words. yet you somehow made him lose all cool. he groaned, cursing under his breath as he regained some of his bearings.
“you- you kissed me in the middle of an argument.” he rubbed his temples “and i want to know why.” you think for a moment, tapping your finger against your lip.
“well, the easy answer is that i just wanted to shut you up.” you give him a closed eye grin “besides from my observations you didn’t object to the action. in fact, you even kissed me back.” scaramouche’s face goes red and this time, he can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or pure anger. he walks back up to you, leaning on the desk again.
“now you listen here-“ you take his chin in your hand and press you finger to your lips in a shushing motion.
“the teacher’s coming back soon. don’t want to get in trouble for being out of your seat now, do you?” scowling, he yanks himself out of your grasp and flips you off before plopping back in his chair, mouthing to you that this isn’t over and turning his head to the door.
just as you had said, the teacher walked back in, scanning their eyes over the room to make sure nothing was out of place and nodding before sitting back at their desk and opening their book again. crossing his arms, scaramouche lets out a small tsk and looks away from how you’ve gone back to resting your head in your arms. there’s something about you that infuriates him so badly in the way that you question his every word with a teasing smile on your face. just thinking about it makes his cheeks go red (with anger of course). but even he can’t deny that the interactions light up a small bout of joy that makes his usual face start to crack at the sides. he barely registers the teacher saying it’s alright to leave now and runs a hand through his hair, disrupted from thought when you drop a note on the desk before making your way out of the room. hesitantly, he picks it up and unfolds it, grip tightening as he scans the contents.
“thanks for keeping me entertained
on our little detention date, scara
you never fail to amuse me with your antics ;)
(y/n) <3
p.s. if you wanted to be alone with me you should’ve just said so. there’s no need to start a fight in order to do so darling”
with a sigh, he shoves it in his pocket and resists the urge to slam a hand down on the table. So, you want to play the game this way, huh? fine. he’ll indulge in your actions. even if they feel like a nuisance to him.
“i’ve become stupid with this madness, haven’t i?” he mutters, pushing in the chair and walking into the empty hallway “may the best one win.”
XIAO.
he lets out a small grunt as the cloth wet with rubbing alcohol was lightly dabbed against his lower lip. the slow tick of the off-time clock cuts through the weight in the air as he stares at the concentrated look on your face. features gently twisted into a frown with your brows furrowed and the frustrated, yet understanding, look in your eyes. your hand takes his chin and turns his head, inspecting the bruise that started to form on his cheek.
“xiao-” he lightly swats your hand away, not bothering to look at you and using his hand to cover the bruise.
“leave it. i’m fine.” an uncomfortable silence rests over the two of you again. he flexes his hand absentmindedly, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his knuckles and how the reddened skin was starting to bruise as well. his eyes darted around the room, from the stool you were sitting on to the cabinets where you’d gotten the rubbing alcohol from and finally resting on the clock where it read that it was nearing 4:30. slowly moving his gaze back to you, he watched silently as you shifted in your spot, unsure of how to approach him. clenching his fist again with a quiet sigh, he reached his hand out to you, hesitating slightly as you looked at him with quizzical and unsure eyes.
“just... be quick with it.” he closed his eyes, wondering to himself why your hands that held his with so much care made him glow inside, basking in the warmth that you generated in his chest. the rest of it was done in mostly silence, the exception being the small soothing hums that would bubble in your throat whenever you felt his flinch from your grasp.
opening his eyes, xiao turned his head more to face you, watching as you wrapped his knuckles and cleaned off the remaining dirt from his fingertips. pulling his hand back once you were done, he noticed how you eyed the bruise on his face. sighing, he flicked your forehead, lips twitching at the corners as you whined and rubbed the spot. though the lightened moment was quickly snuffed out.
“why did you fight them?” the question made him freeze. “because it was natural” is what he wanted to say since it was. keeping the ones you like closely protected is something that shouldn’t have to be explained. but the way those people made his blood boil with their taunts and words felt different. he felt the way rage bubbled and spilled over into his words and how his vision slowly went red. all that because those words were directed at you. he huffed, crossing his arms.
“they ticked me off. that’s all.” you give a small smile, knowing how he wasn’t telling the full truth. standing from your seat, you placed everything back carefully, closing the cabinets and looking back at him.
“just- please be more careful next time. i worry about you, xiao.” he scoffed, trying to ignore the way his heart picked up and the red hues snaking their way up his neck.
“i’m capable of handling myself. there’s no use for your worry.” you pick up your bag, resting a hand on his shoulder lightly. xiao hated to admit it in his mind but he couldn’t help but slowly sink into your touch.
“even so, i’m always there for you, ok?” he struggles to keep in the whine that threatens to leave his throat when your hand pulls away. reaching for his own bag, he paused for a moment as he registered you saying bye for the weekend and in almost an instant, his body reacted before he could think.
“(y/n). wait” xiao grabbed your hand, stopping your movements as you faced him again with a perplexed look. he could spill everything in this one moment: finally ridding himself of this feeling in his chest for the time being. the words caught in his throat, leaving him open-mouthed with a red face. xiao shudders, everything he wants to say is right there but he just can’t.
“hmph.” he hastily let’s go and averts his eyes away from your quizzical gaze “n-never mind. sorry for keeping you so late and thanks for your help. not that i needed it.”
erm. hi!! decided to post here too since my tumblr is rlly dead..here's my oc; rockelle. she seems tough, but i swear she's rlly nice <3
no because someone on tiktok said ''should've been me'' by mitski fits kazuha and tomo very well. im going to start violently crying.
LOVE IS A SONG …
DO I WANT YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE WONDERFUL, / OR ARE YOU WONDERFUL / BECAUSE I WANT YOU? the prestigious teyvat arts academy is once again hosting their annual musical production, and for you? well, you’re gunning for the lead role– cinderella. but something throws a tomato in your star spotlight time when you find out that long-time crush, scaramouche, has been casted as prince fucking charming. cue the “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” chorus!
love is a song, a scaramouche x reader smau. reader plays the role of cinderella but is referred to by with they/them pronouns. spoilers for: scaramouche’s, childe’s & signora’s real names. tags: uni! theatre kids! oh-my-fucking-god y’all just pining AND oblivious! swearing (if it ain’t obvious already)! ooc characters (literally all of them except childe)!
STATUS: on - going UPDATES: whenever i feel like it disregard time-stamps & interactions (too lazy to put in likes & stuff just pretend they are there)
MASTERLIST
꒰ teaser ꒱
꒰ prologue ꒱ me, who am i? ( i / ii )
to be continued …
TAGLIST : @keqinxx @scaradocs @scaramew TAG : l.ove is a song
genshin fandom respect opinions and ships (if they're not toxic/illegal) challenge go!! i saw someone saying they should be sending d34th thr3ats to someone just because they don't hc yae as a lesbian 😦
THIS LOOKS SO REAL WOW!!!
day 198: I tried to make a fake anime screenshot
day 196: the vision hunt decree
zhongli webcore
It's really terrible out here in Myanmar. As a Myanmar citizen myself, it disheartens me to see this.
Happening in Myanmar on 29th Oct, 2021
Junta soldiers are firing incendiary rockets into neighborhoods in Thantlang Town where fire start to burn from multiple locations all at once. The abandoned town of over 10,000 residents is now billowing smokes.
1st pic is Before and After the Coup,
SAC is destroying not only cities but also people’s lives and their homes. For people who live in hilly regions, their houses are all they have. It took years to build up a place where your family calls ‘home’. To see this destroys in just hours, this is so heartbreaking.
THIS IS SO PERFECT HOLY SHIT MY EYES HAVE BEEN BLESSED
howlbedo with black hair~🏵️
HOLY SHIT ZHONGLI ZHONGLI ZHONGLAKJSJDKJKALSDJKJSDAL
genshin men as models A-
jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely.
tattoo artists au