Xiao X Reader (Genshin Impact)                 🍀A Subject🍀

A/N: Hi, I've been thinking about posting this since it's Albedo and apparently, I love him. So yeah...enjoy the fluff.

🍁Albedo x Reader🍁 (Genshin Impact)

"And maybe a bit of this would be enough.."

You stared at your beloved significant other as he made something like a potion. He's been putting different ingredients together for who knows what result it would be but he seems pretty focused on it that you don't want to interrupt him.

You watched as he slowly mix it all up, tilting your head to see his face. His eyes were pretty focus on mixing, probably analyzing the changes that's happening on the potion. His face has this determined and curious look but after a while, his lips turned into a smile as the potion glows.

A small smile formed his lips as he stared at the potion. He immediately take out his notes and write something on it.

"This is just what I expected, I'm glad it came out well. This potion would be pretty much useful..." he mumbles. "Then I'll probably going to test it sooner or later..."

He blinks, slowly raising his head just to meet your e/c orbs. Probably realizing that it was your stare he's been feeling for a while.

"Y/n? Something wrong?"

You shaked your head, "Nope, just...observing my research topic."

He looked at you curiously, "Research topic..on me?" He put away his notes, sitting just in front of you. "What did you find out then?"

You smiled, pulling out a small notebook from your pocket. "Let's see..."

You glance at him, he seems really curious on what you write down about him. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from chuckling.

You cleared your throat, reading the notes you take down.

"You're eyes are just too amazing to look at but it's beauty remains even if you're focus on your research. The way you unconsciously smile every now and then is also a wonderful sight to see. Also, when you're mumbling things, it's weird how it adds to your charm. "

You put down your notes, looking at him. A small smug smile plastered on his lips. His eyes looking so amusely at you.

"And...the conclusion...?" He asked, tapping his fingers gently on the table.

"Conclusion? You're a precious one. Just overall, you're pretty cute. One hundred percent successful."

He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "Will you consider making a part two of this research?"

You hummed. "Why not? I don't think I would get tired observing things from my research topic, it's...pretty interesting."

"So this is how it will play, huh?" He smirked.

"Yep. Let's do our research together." You grinned, winking at him.

He chuckled before getting up, looking at his notes again. "Alright, I'll just test this potion and while I'm doing that..." He glance at you, a smug smile on his lips. "You can continue observing your research topic."

Diminuendo | Yoshiya Kiryu

Summary: 

di·min·u·en·do/dəˌmin(y)əˈwendō/

adverb

(especially as a direction) with a decrease in loudness.

“the piece ends as it began, a poem of sorrow and regret that dissolves diminuendo”

Joshua was his name. Joshua. Joshua. Your fingertips tapped at the crease of your lips, pondering of this man beside you and his significance to you. With one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other was entwined with yours, the glint in his silver irises evidence of his mischievous nature. None of his behavior was familiar to you, even the occasional lean of his body toward you upon your first meeting, yet with a wave of his hand he paid no heed to your dilemma. Surely, Joshua was someone whose presence refused to be forgotten. Surely, there lacked any reason for you to fail to recall his nature; someone like him was difficult to let go, that you were sure of.

With a jostle of your shoulder, you clicked your tongue at the cause and opened your mouth to spout colorful words at him, only to find that your attempts to inconvenience his day were futile. With his arms crossed, one hand grasping at his cellphone, a wide grin complemented the frown you intended on sighting. Your name was what unsettled you, falling from his lips like honey, and he began to close the distance with a greeting that tempted you ever so closer to him. “Hey!” A nickname. “Remember me?” A question with an undesirable answer. Following your perplexity, there rose the proposition he take you somewhere to assist you in jogging your memory: WildKat, the café the people of Shibuya had been raving about since the beginning of time.

“Remember this?” You shook your head, catching the foam of your latte soaking into your drink. The owner mimicked you with a smile, his hand deep into a dish rag as he cleaned the mugs of filth, something difficult to be noticed once the boy in front of you shrugged and faced you with a wistful grin. No worries, he said, I don’t deserve to be remembered by you. When he stood to depart from your form, apparently leaving the responsibility of paying for service onto you, the back of his button up shirt became reminiscent of a moment where the two of you stood in a place far from this, hands in his pocket as his existence in your life was fleeting. The picture was blurred out with your tears, but evident enough that you pinched at the bridge of your nose in hopes of learning more about what you meant to him. What it all meant to him.

You slapped however amounts of yen you had left on the table, your chair whining in protest as your gratitude was shown in your compliments to the chef. Behind you, the chef once again shook his head, a frown tugged upon his lips entirely complementary to the amusement exhibited at his old friend’s puppy love. Of course, how could you have noticed? The world and its rules were diminishing around your search for Joshua–Yoshiya, Yoshiya, how could you forget how effortless it was to call him Joshua instead? How could you fail to remember your missing puzzle piece, a dear friend whose attention was only on you? How could you allow him to push you away after he cherished your existence, regressing towards an isolation from fellow children and ignorant adults before you first approached him? Joshua, what reason did he have for never coming back–

BANG

Your hands grasp at your forehead in the middle of Scramble Crossing, the mass of men walking past your form as if you no longer exist. In their eyes, you are the ghost teenagers shuddered upon, the memory your friends will eventually leave behind. With no one to help you, you are surrounded by monsters beyond your capacity, beyond your sanity, unable to recall of how you ended up here. Creeping towards you, their teeth glimmer in the sun, and no matter how much the thought of them sinking into your skin terrifies you, no one would know. You are no longer relevant, a loss that left more questions than answers, and God, you don’t want to die with that last thought.

“Hold my hand,” he tells you, your saving grace the form of a boy whose silver eyes are wide with the thought of losing you. “If you don’t, you’ll die.” Don’t ever listen to strangers.

Joshua is his name. Joshua. Joshua.

Aww, cutie cinnamon roll❤

Khun: Your eyes are very pretty, Bam.

Bam, panicking: Thank you, I need them to see.

Ramblings

Ahh, I miss tumblr and Tower of God. I've been worried about our research defense that will be scheduled next week, our teacher keeps dragging the announcement of the sched. I still play Genshin and have been engrossed again with Tower of God, mostly because of Khun. I also notice the lack of fanfics/ficlets/one-shot on "Classroom of Elites" so I might write something about that. BUT, I am in the making of a "Tower of God" fanfic with well, Khun x reader? I might post it here when I reach the chapter of the reader entering the tower, yes the reader has a whole backstory. Of course, it would still follow the plot of the webtoon with a bit of the reader's own story. It will be a challenge for me to also improve in writing. I'm done with the prologue and in the middle of chapter 1. I'm posting my rumblings here since my Twitter is kind of useless, to be honest.

Thank you so much if you read this and I'm sorry for wasting your time shshs

I JUST GOT ALBEDO, LIKE THE PRETTY ALCHEMIST MAN??

LIKE THE DRIP?? THE FLOWER ELEVATOR??

IT'S EVERYTHING.

Btw, I'm currently working on a Xingqiu one-shot. Still in the middle of answering my General Math subject so I might post in by the end of this month. Thankiessss and have a nice dayyyy!

reblog for good luck!

PLS THIS IS SO PRETTYY. HE'S SO PRETTYYY

On ice. . . . . . These characters belong to SIU. #towerofgod #tog #khunagueroagnis #khun #fanart #webtoonfanart #webtoons #sketch #drawing #digitalart #illustration #illustrations #신의탑 https://www.instagram.com/p/CdRM73jv_Ku/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ REACH ] SCARAMOUCHE.

scaramouche is awkward the first time he lays beside you, rigid and hardly relaxed when his body slides under the covers—you’d almost think he doesn’t want to be near you if you didn’t know him any better. you keep a small distance between you both when you see the way he seems to stiffen the closer you get, whispering a soft goodnight before closing your eyes.

what you don’t seem to see, however, is the way his eyes wander to your figure every few seconds, lingering over your face and raking over your features. you don’t see the way his eyes soften when you curl into the sheets for warmth. you don’t see the way his hand reaches out as you sleep, a little shaky at first—hesitant. he brushes a finger against your cheek as if testing the waters—and then he retreats almost immediately.

because you look delicate like this, soft and fragile, too easy to disappear suddenly, like you were never there to begin with. he doesn’t think he should be here beside you—but then you crinkle your nose in your slumber, and despite his better judgement, he smiles a little at the sight. his fingers run over the swell of your cheeks and brush over the bridge of your nose, delicately tracing the skin as he maps your features.

it’s not until you nibble on his fingertip as he traces your bottom lip does he realize you’re now awake.

“what are you—”

“how romantic,” you tease, grinning cheekily as your eyes flutter open, “and here i almost thought you didn’t like me for a bit.”

“that’s because i don’t like you,” he grunts, pushing you away (though gently) as you scoot closer and wriggle your brows.

“if you wanted to cuddle, you could just ask,” you giggle, and he glares.

you’ve always been bold, far bolder than he should let you get away with—but you throw him the bright grin you always do, and somehow he finds himself softening the harsh edges, like the glass is rounded so he doesn’t cut you as you reach your hand out.

“i don’t,” he huffs, “now go to sleep.”

there’s a slight pout on his face—though, you don’t think he realizes as much, and pointing it out would only sour his mood more. so you smile to yourself, taking in the way his hand falls limply onto the mattress beside him.

if he craves to reach for you again, to feel the warmth of your skin press against the tips of his fingers one more time, he makes no indication of it. scaramouche never reaches first—he simply tolerates your back hugs and linked arms, let’s you follow him around and maybe even hold his hand if he’s in a good mood. there’s always a disgruntled protest, however weak it might be, but just like always, he never pulls away.

and something tells you he doesn’t want to—something about the way his expression breaks for a swift moment before it’s hardened again tells you that maybe he needs your touch more than you need his.

so you flick his forehead, make his brows furrow and his chest ache with that smile you shoot him, the same one that soothes over the cracks the world has left in him over the years and fills them until he’s whole. “i would be asleep, if someone didn’t wake me.”

he hates that you’re right—but more than anything, he hates how easily you trust him. he hates how easy it is for his harsh glares to go ignored, how easy it is not to care about his bitter words and cold resolve, how easy it is to give and give when you get nothing in return. and because you never seem to care just how hard it is to love someone like scaramouche, you wrap yourself around his arm, making him stiffen with a scowl.

“hey, get off,” he says—but even as he pokes your shoulder to make a point, he makes no moves to pull away. it tells you enough, you think, it tells you everything you need to know.

please don’t ever let go.

“are you sure you want that, kuni?” you hum, reaching to poke his cheek, “you sure seem to like touching me—”

“i’ve had enough,” he grunts, “you can go sleep in another bed.”

“this is my bed,” you snort.

you’re right again, which only makes him ten times more irritated, but maybe…maybe he’s also ten times more in love. he wonders for a moment—thinks whether or not someday he can really bring himself to admit it.

so for now, he doesn’t pull away—and he hopes that’s enough to make you keep reaching out.

“whatever,” he mutters, and almost too swiftly, as if he wills himself to do it before he can change his mind, his arm tugs you closer against his side, letting your head fall to his chest. “i’d say it’s ours now,” he says quietly.

you grin, reaching a hand out to grab his, squeezing gently as your fingers lace with his.

and when you whisper, “goodnight, kuni,” with a kiss to his chest, he doesn’t pull away.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

i’m posting this and running away bc i hate it lmao bye

This scene kills my heart with butterflies.

trans rights

💜Scaramouche x Reader💜

A/N: This is an idea that suddenly popped out of my mind so I decided to write it. The reader is gender-neutral and this is a fluff. Enjoy reading and have a nice day!

Oh and there are some curse words cause it's Scara.

💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜

Being a harbinger is something you can’t be fully proud of. At least, that’s how you feel upon staring at the badge the Tsaritsa gave you. But you don’t really have a choice, you can’t just pass an opportunity of making your life a bit easier. Even if you try to deny the offer, your head would be a target for the Fatui. Surviving in the cold weather of Snezhnaya is already a pain in the back, you don’t want to make it worse.

Your job as a harbinger is really simple. You seldom cut someone’s throat as you’re more often assigned in “gathering information from the inside” type of missions. When it comes to highly secured territories, you’re the one to take the lead. You don’t need assistance or anything as you mostly take the act you also planned and set it in motion. Maybe it’s from the experience of once working in front of many people, wearing a mask to suit everyone’s taste, pursuing them to trust you.

As the Tsaritsa told you, you’re competent. A people pleaser like you can read people so easily that one look can immediately give you an inference on the personality you will need to portray on your target. When it comes to finishing someone, you do it quickly. As soon as you got their trust, it was also the time to sing them a lullaby to their own doom.

A sigh escaped your lips, being a harbinger sets you in the boundary of everything. It always felt like you’re in between of opposing arguments. It’s thrilling but also confusing, maybe it’s just your morals kicking you in the guts but it’s too late for that. The moment you bow down in front of the Tsaritsa’s throne, it was all gone.

“I never knew a deaf could be a harbinger.”

Your eyes shifted from your badge to the source of the voice. The sixth harbinger, casually hanging out in your office’s couch. He must have entered your office while you’re busy paying attention on your thoughts.

“Do you have any idea how many times I knocked on your door? I would’ve thought you’ve been killed in your office if I didn’t know you any better,” he continued.

“I’m thinking about important stuff, I didn’t notice.”

He scoffed. “You didn’t even bother to apologize, how rude.”

You blinked at him, staring to his eyes. Scaramouche, or also known as Balladeer has been the one to always barge into your office like it was his own for the first months. The first time you met him was just like this, except the fact that you’re working on paper documents that time and he didn’t knocked, he just barged in. You remember how he didn’t ask your name and where you from, just straight up gave the file the Tsaritsa wanted to give to you, informing you with a bunch of small insults here and there before leaving and slamming the door.

Your first thought was maybe he didn’t like you or your impression, not that it matters anyway. Until you found out that he also does that to other harbingers, especially when he’s having too much to work with in his plate.

“You know, no matter how long you looked at that badge, it won’t disappear.”

You look at the balladeer with his statement. He stood up, slowly walking towards your table as he crossed his arms. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this since it’s disturbing my thoughts, are you really…chickening out? After being here for so long, that’s quite disappointing.”

You let out a scoff at his question, your eyes narrowing at his glinted eyes. You know how Scaramouche is, the way he works with his words to initiate tension. You won’t fall for it but still you wanted to admit how well he can cause tension and get away from it.

“You’re asking…me? What happened to your ‘good intuition’, the sixth harbinger?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “That’s more like you. I just hate how you always look at your stupid badge every time I see you, it irks me.”

“That’s more like your problem, not mine.”

“I hate it still, so I will need an explanation.”

“Wow, is this manipulation 101?”

“Y/n.” He sternly called your name, his eyes softening a bit. “I wanted to know if something is bugging your mind, I’ll help if I can.”

You remained silent as a sigh escaped your lips. You reached for the file you’re supposed to read a while ago if only you didn’t space out. “It was nine days ago..”

He hummed urging you to continue. He sat down on the chair opposite to yours, waiting for your next words.

“When I learned something about a certain topic, it’s…quite bizarre.”

You looked at him seriously, his indigo orbs meeting yours. You can see how his trying to listen…how his patience is slowly thinning out on your slow words and his own pretention.

A smile formed your lips. “Gaslighting. Oh, what a bizarre topic and thing to do, right Scaramouche?”

You dramatically placed your hand on your chest as you gave him a look of pity. He clicked his tongue before standing up, fixing his hat in the process.

“Fuck you and your stupid badge.”

You laughed. His visible frustration is entertaining, especially when he cussed. Something about his cussing words just hits deeply, you can’t help but laugh.

“I waste my time for this stupid shit. I should’ve known.”

As he took a step away from table, you quickly stood up, reaching for his hand to stop him. He looked back at you with an annoyed expression. He was about to slap your hands off him but he stopped as soon as he heard you talk.

“Wait, alright. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not half wrong but..I get the glimpse of what you’re trying to do. Just sit down. I promise, no more jokes.”

It took a couple of seconds before he spoke up. “No more fucking jokes.”

You nodded. He let out a sigh before he propped down on the chair again. You sat again too as you compose yourself.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You bit the insides from your cheek to prevent yourself from chuckling. That’s more like him, you thought.

“This badge isn’t mine, dumbass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it from an agent? A traitor perhaps? Just say the word and I’ll finish them off-”

“No need for violence, it was from a harbinger.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Did you…killed a harbinger? Y/n, that’s not how you raise your rank. You’re a trai-”

“I didn’t kill someone, why are you insisting that?”

He shrugged, leaning on the chair as he hums. He must have been playing with you as a revenge from earlier. What a child.

“It’s from a harbinger that’s been bugging me. Not in a bad way,” you cleared out before he can even decide to say a violent statement again.

“Bugging you but not in a bad way? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

You mentally facepalmed, of course he wouldn’t know. He probably never felt that way for someone too. Now, you’re rethinking your decisions on telling him. Time for a more direct approach.

“I think I like someone.”

Silence.

You were replied by silence for almost a minute before a chuckled erupted from him. You shook your head as you listen to his laugh.

“You like someone? And you stole their badge because you like them? What a creepy move, are you a stalker?”

You rolled your eyes before you stand up, holding the file on your arms. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll need to submit this file before dinner time, bye.”

As you held the doorknob, you can still hear his laughter from your back. Maybe, you’ll tell him some other time but, you promised yourself. You even practice on the mirror on what to say, it’s ridiculous. Your eyes landed on the badge. Every time you look at it, it reminds you of the glint in his eyes then you’ll see your reflection, making you ask yourself on how did you get yourself into this.

“Hey, Scara.”

You turned around, his laughed slowly stopped as he looked at you.

“Remember the camp last month?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you asking me about such a horrible day.”

“Childe accidentally took your badge then replace it since you were pretty mad that day. It won’t be a good result if you’ve known he touched some of your belongings.”

He blinked. “And you didn’t tell me? That rascal, good thing he know what will happen.”

“I actually found it so here you go.”

You hummed, taking a last look on the badge before you throw it to him. He easily caught it with one hand, staring at it for a second. You saw how his eyes widen a bit before glancing at you again.

“This badge…is mine and what you said about it earlier…”

Your throat felt dry the moment you meet each other eyes. You tried to smile, forcing yourself to formulate some words your mind came up with.

“You’re making me feel complicated things, it’s unfitting for a harbinger.”