sunii-is-typing

[sunii-is-typing]

true thunder and lightning | shadow of thunder

[sunii-is-typing]

Head empty. Only memory space left is for him 🔥 😔 👌

[sunii-is-typing]

“he was once a good friend of mine.

one day, he asked me about a sword art of which he had heard: the musou no hitotachi.

i told him: ‘it can only be witnessed when divine punishment is administered. it is the pinnacle of the raiden shogun’s skill—a symbol of ultimate power.’

but he replied: ‘there must be one who can withstand it. there will always be those who dare to brave the lightning’s glow.’

then, the vision hunt decree arrived. people’s aspirations were stripped away as the raiden shogun began to construct her ideal of eternity.

while i was fleeing from place to place, i heard that my friend had challenged the vision hunters to a duel before the throne—a solemn yet brutal challenge. the defeated faced divine punishment, while the victors gain a second chance.

perhaps he thought he—of all people—should make a stand; coming face to face with the musou no hitotachi was all that he truly desired, after all.

when i arrived at tenshukaku, the duel was over. i heard his sentence of divine punishment, his severed blade hitting the ground. perhaps that was the glory he had yearned to witness.

(in his last moments, what expression was on his face?)

before i knew it, i had stepped forward and snatched the dying vision, and was running from the scene. all i knew was that i mustn’t let his hope which burned so brightly become buried among the ice-cold statue of a god.”

archon quest chapter ii: prologue ☆ autumn winds, scarlet leaves

[sunii-is-typing]

★ ALBEDO | THE GEO ALCHEMIST ★

[sunii-is-typing]

GENSHIN IMPACT : official art wallpapers

don’t repost or remove watermark !!

[sunii-is-typing]

rage

summary ; the ice beckons. he is nothing but a pawn.

character ; albedo

cw ; angst : hurt no comfort : obsessive behavior : one-sided relationship : manipulation/coercion : death : xiao’s bad writing

emotions have never—and will never—be his strong suit. they’re not important, in his eyes, for he has other things to worry about. working, working, working.. too many things to think about and dedicate himself to.

if he cannot dedicate himself to the very craft that built him from the ground up, he supposes he has no purpose. and thus, he works, works, works.

perhaps that’s why they started sending you.

albedo doesn’t bother to commit your name to memory. you don’t speak to him, he doesn’t speak to you—he works, works, works and you watch, watch, watch. your eyes are empty as they card over his hard work.

for one reason or another, he begins to feel disrespected.

any who enter his camp regarded it with a whimsical sort of awe, turning their head this way and that to get a better view of everything stored within the freezing locale.

hell, he doesn’t even see you shiver. your eyes rake over his concoctions with the same enthusiasm he has whenever one of the knights pesters him with those meddlesome questions.

“do we have a problem?” those are his first words, and he does not know of the emotion strangling his throat when he says them, but it feels horrible.

an experiment for another time. he cannot afford to focus on something that makes his gut churn so angrily.

you blink at him and he withholds the urge to tell you to get out. with lips drawn in a thin line, you shake your head and return to staring—blankly, might he add—at something he’d been brewing.

albedo clenches his fist, bites his tongue and continues working. the howling winds of dragonspine, once comforting amidst the chaos of mondstadt, do nothing to alleviate his condition.

his second words come without warning. he knows not of their origin, but he knows that he is growing to be quite tired of having you around. this is normal. he doesn’t appreciate human interaction, lest it came from ms. alice or klee.

even then, he’d rather not have klee in this environment. this was his personal little space, his camp, and you should not be here.

he has half the mind to take this to the acting grandmaster, but archons know she won’t do anything about it. she’s the one who brought you into his personal space, designating him a babysitter without his consent.

he slams his fist down on the alchemy table. the frosted core he’d been tampering with crackles, spewing out an icy residue that he has to wipe away before it can congeal.

your fault. this is your fault—you’re ruining everything, dammit.

“leave,” he hisses, and nearly recoils at how he sounds. that’s not him, that cannot be him, because his voice doesn’t sound like that at all. he clears his throat and steadies himself, staring back into those unyielding eyes of yours.

you squint, yet remain quiet. he wants you to speak, to at least give him a proper reason to tell you to shut up and get out of his business. and yet, you do nothing, only watching, watching, watching.

he’s going to kill you. he’s going to strangle you before you ever get the chance to utter a single word to him, and he’s going to enjoy it.

again, he surprises himself, and he cannot stop the jolt that rushes through him at the abrupt thought. he places a hand on his head, winces and glares at the ground.

the feeling of his brow furrowing is foreign. when he looks up, you’re not there.

he told you to leave. and you did, you did as he said, as you were assigned to do, because this is his domain and you do not belong here—you, with no warming bottles, but with an uneasy gaze that makes his skin crawl.

so why does he feel bad about it?

you do not return the day after. or the day after that, or the day after that. and, at first, it is bearable. the winds grow to be his friend again, cooling and soothing against his skin, and the silence that ensues is nice.

until it’s not. and he’s scratching at his skin, scratching at his ears, because he needs to hear nothing. absolute silence, that special silence that came from you staring emptily at him.

albedo doesn’t even know why. it was uncomfortable, it was so uncomfortable and he went over two months listening to it, fidgeting and wanting to pick himself apart because of it.

now, he cannot believe he’s gone so long without it. he craves it, needs it to work properly, to clench his fists around a vial and have it shatter between his fingers—not on accident, on purpose, on purpose.

he’s going insane.

“grandmaster jean.” albedo bows his head in a respect he doesn’t exactly have, but he’s a good enough actor for the woman to smile in greeting.

she gestures to a seat, but he carefully declines and chooses to stand close to the door. he doesn’t need another involuntary accident happening—smashing one too many vials has made him cautious.

he grabs the silence, palpable and dribbling in his hands, and crushes it. “i would like to talk to you about my.. assistant.”

jean hums.

with that, the alchemist continues: “the assistant that you assigned to me—i require.. their appearance again. i’ve made a discovery, one that needs them—”

at this, the grandmaster’s eyes narrow and she raises a hand. he, obediently so, goes silent and curses himself for being made from the blood of an artificial mutt rather than the blood of a breathing, living thing.

albedo digs his fingers into his palm. mutt, mutt—obedient mutt, good mutt, that’s all he’s supposed to be. follow orders, work, work, work.

and yet, he stills at jean’s words.

“i never assigned anyone to you, albedo.”

it all decays from there.

if albedo had become deranged, lost without that special silence you granted him, knowing that you'd been a figment destroyed him. because it's not right, he saw you, he swears he saw you, standing right there, watching, watching, watching.

the alchemist stares at the sheets splayed across his table and swears he feels eyes upon him. and, as always yet still to his dismay, there is nothing.

nothing, nothing, nothing.

he tries to replace the feeling, dragging sucrose over and instructing her to stand, watch, remain eerily silent, but she can't. she shifts, everytime, and he breaks something important and yells.

on the fifth day, he decides that replacement is futile. another vial crumbles between his hands and, without coherent thought, he turns on his poor assistant.

the alchemist does not care about sucrose whimpering, shying away from his glass-filled hands, not until there is blood painting the snow, haloing the head of a still body.

albedo stares at his hands, wrapped around sucrose’s neck, shards pressing into her fragile skin. astonished, yet knowing eyes stare up at him and he thinks he's trembling.

(she’s not moving.)

a blistering silence looms over him and he thinks he can hear the ice whispering, hissing profanities and cursing him for his impatience, for his foolishness.

he can feel your eyes on him. unyielding, unrelenting. it’s what he wanted, that’s all he’s ever wanted, and yet..

he’s going to vomit.

and he does.

“grandmaster jean.” albedo inclines his head, if only to avoid jean’s gaze. it’d be too much, far too much—he knows of the blood on his hands.

nothing can rid him of his guilt.

the grandmaster scrutinizes him, brow furrowed a decent amount. he thinks he should feel disrespected, but reminds himself that that’s what led to his downfall.

he’s still falling. go figure. faintly, your eyes can still be felt upon him, branded into his artificial skin and labeling him as an experiment amidst true sentience.

“have a seat,” jean directs. this time, he follows her order—sitting down is better than having to stifle the shivers accumulating in his legs.

a pitying silence washes over them.

“i heard about sucrose’s disappearance—” and he flinches, and jean apologizes with a near maternal voice, “—and you have my condolences, but.. as much as it pains me to say this..”

she trails off. albedo picks up the pieces seamlessly, for it’s the thing he does best.

“she must be replaced. i..” he sighs, guilt gnawing at his consciousness. “i know. i know.”

her eyes do not crinkle when she smiles. he does not have to wonder why.

you’re back.

sometimes, the alchemist wonders if you’d ever left in the first place. dragonspine appears to be your home, if not a place you’re tethered to.

rather than standing, you exhibit different behaviors this time: you sit; you swing your legs; you look around; you’re painfully, truthfully human.

sometimes, he can hear you talking. yet, everytime he turns to see if he’s delusional or hearing the truth, you go quiet, peering off into the distance with indecipherable eyes.

it reminds him of sucrose. a bile conjures in his throat and he decides, hurriedly, that he should not think about the makeshift grave settled near the warmth of durin’s heart.

too much. emotions are too much; he hates them. and that’s a problem, too, because hate itself is an emotion, and it’s been horrendously prominent ever since your first appearance in his camp.

he’s experimented enough with this emotion. he does not need to experiment again.

albedo stares at you. you stare back, lips pulled in a thin line as you blink, slowly.

foolish, the ice whispers to him as he puts down his vials. foolish, the ice howls when he decides another experiment would not kill anyone. not this time, surely not this time—different results, different results.

foolish, the ice whimpers as he tells himself that the rage came from a softer emotion. foolish, foolish, and he advances toward you.

“stay as long as you’d like.” 

your eyes do not close when his do.

there was an avalanche earlier. you’re okay, he knows this, but he is not.

the ice is screaming, it is wailing. he hears it all, no matter how much pressure he presses onto his frigid ears. he has never felt cold before, but it is horrible, it is blistering and his skin feels like it’s peeling away.

feebly, foolishly, the alchemist calls your name. he knows it not, but it’s the one he gave you, the one that you accepted and responded to, and he hopes, hopes, hopes—

the ice hisses. albedo shrinks in on himself, pitiful and brittle, but then he feels it.

your eyes. they’re upon him.

and, soon after, your hands slide around his neck. as dangerous as the position is, he leans into your touch, accepting the lack of feeling that resonates from them.

like you’re dead. like you’re dead.

“my chalk prince,” you whisper into his ear, and his heart drops and shatters against his ribs when he recognizes that voice.

the ice.

you are the ice. you are the whispers, you are the shrieks, you are the hisses—you are everything surrounding him, tearing away at his skin.

albedo feels paler than usual. he can’t move.

“my chalk prince,” you relay, and your grip tightens around his neck. your fingers dig into the peeled skin of the symbol upon his neck and sink further, further.

he gags. he chokes. he pleads for mercy, for anything that will remove your gaze from him. he doesn’t want it anymore, take it away, get it off of him, just please—!

“succumb,” you order with a misty seethe—mutt, mutt, obedient mutt, he is nothing more than a mutt made from a mutt’s blood—and he does.

none hear from the alchemist in the mountains. a normal occurrence, for he is swallowed by his studies and was mourning over the lost of a friend, if he ever knew what a friend was.

oh, he has been swallowed by his studies. oh, he has been mourning, but for the loss of the vessel he once owned rather than the body he buried with tembling hands.

a star lies in the rummage of an avalanche. skin surrounds it, stretching out and reddening the loving white of the snow. torn from its owner, shredded alongside it.

there is nobody here.

adventurers do not dare tread close to durin’s heart, but they do this time, and they stare at the grave settled beside the warm, broken organ—they stare at the shredded asters, the broken, old tomb.

they do not speak of it.

albedo resurfaces some other time. another avalanche, one that sends the traveler spiraling away with their current party. eula digs her sword into the ground, whereas amber slides across the icy ground with bennett.

they’re okay, they’re okay, and yet—

blue eyes pierce theirs in the mist crafted from the avalanche and they think they can’t breathe anymore. there is rage, there is fear, there is everything and nothing.

it’s the alchemist who was lost to the snow. the traveler thinks they get what kaeya meant now.

the ice wails, louder and louder and louder. you’re wailing, you hate them, you want them gone, this your paradise, yours, yours.

you trace your fingers along his jaw. he leans into your fleeting touch.

“kill them.”

albedo stares. then, with a flick of his hand, ice blossoms. and you shriek, joyously, as the travelers yelp and scream and yell at him like the mutt he is.

‘what the devil are you doing, albedo?!’ 

‘what’s your problem?!’ 

‘albedo, this isn’t you!’

he laughs. you laugh.

your hands intertwine with his and ice blossoms from his seized palm. you press a cold, unloving kiss to his cheek and he, foolishly, mistakes it for love, for affection.

and he grins, unabashed and feral, and the travelers shrink under his glory. you love him, you love him so much and he does not feel the painful ache upon his neck.

he does not know of the hand wringing around his neck, digging clawed talons into the open wound upon his neck. a new branding, where your fingers skim his bones and tear open his organs.

and if he bleeds, that is for you to know.

“kill them,” you whisper, lips cold as they brush against his ear, and he succumbs.

you hiss at the woman, with blue-hair and complex eyes, and he strikes.

[sunii-is-typing]

💯🥵🤝🤤💋

[sunii-is-typing]

gorou in “shadows amidst snowstorms” trailer

[sunii-is-typing]

[sunii-is-typing]

as one with wind and cloud

[sunii-is-typing]

[sunii-is-typing]

If you wish to drown together with the people of Liyue, you’re free to stay and enjoy the show!

[sunii-is-typing]

zhongli’s movements in his character demo are so fast that i couldn’t see all the nuances to them so i slowed down this clip here. i really like his animation here, i don’t know how to explain very well but it’s like, his movements feel real and organic. notice how his eyes are always tracking his spear, like when he opens his eyes, he looks up just a little then looks to the side. my favorite part, the one i thought felt organic, notice the movement he makes after his charged attack, he makes a wide lunge before distributing weight on one foot to leap in the air to kick his spear. when he catches his spear, his eyes are widened and eyebrows raised before furrowing.

[sunii-is-typing]

Tried drawing some Genshin characters🕺🕺

I mostly drew this to try and see if it would get cl0ut. If it works, expect a few more of these maybe. If it doesn't, what is genshin (feel free to use as pfp just credit me somewhere on ur page lol)

[sunii-is-typing]

How they get your attention

Featuring: Arataki Itto, Venti, Gorou, Thoma, Zhongli & Xiao

✧ Itto will straight up start a fight in the middle of the city or make enough ruckus for nearby passerbyers to get concerned. He knows you’re not concerned over his safety, he’s pretty sure you could care less about that. But he knows you’ll come running if you hear his name and the word: “Rampage,” because you’re more worried about the innocent civillians more than him.

“Itto, what the hell are you doing?!” when he sees you running down the street, he immediately pulls his arm away from a poor merchants shoulders before bouncing over to you, opening his arms to engulf you in a hug: “[Name]! I missed you!” He shouts, a booming laugh following right after as he lifts you up before running away from the oncoming guards, all the while listening to you nag at him for causing a scene yet again, “But you wouldn’t have come otherwise!” he retorts: “Itto, I’ve said this time and time again, but all you have to do is knock on my damn door!” 

✧ Venti will become a dramatic princess when he realizes you haven’t paid enough attention to him. How could you not pay attention to your most adorabelst, sweetest lover when he’s right there in the same room?! He will drape yourself over your shoulders or plop himself onto your lap with a pout and crossed arms, demanding attention or else he will quite literally die.

“Oh I can’t go any further, my legs are losing their strength, I can no longer find the energy to voice another melody!” as the bard says this with what you might add, quite a lot of energy, he drapes himself across your back, an exhausted sigh leaving his lips as he closes his eyes: “Whatever shall I do? I feel like I’ll cease from existence at this rate!” and then he cries. Sighing, you turn around, almost making Venti trip from the abrupt move before pulling his arm to make him land on your lap while kissing his cheek: Feel better now, my oh so poor lover in distress?” you muse, only getting a grin in return.

Keep reading

[sunii-is-typing]

thoma must be so warmTT

[sunii-is-typing]

cw ; suggestive

"do you want to hear an interesting fact about atoms?" ALBEDO's voice echoes in the silence of his base in dragonspine, cobalt eyes meeting your gaze and prompting you to merely nod your head in response. the two of you are alone, trapped by the blizzard raging outside. even now you can hear the unforgivable wind howling, wrecking the usual serenity of midnight in this isolated realm of ice.

he steps closer to you, one hand coming up to trace a gloved finger down along your cheekbone, "every cell in your body is surrounded by negatively charged electrons, so they push away other electrons which get too close." leaning into the warmth of his skin in contact with yours, your eyes flutter shut as he continues, "your body perceives the electron repulsion as 'touching', but really, you never actually touch anything." his hand doesn't leave your cheek, but his aqua eyes glimmer with the faintest trace of some unknown emotion.

you open your eyes once more, staring at him quietly. a moment passes before you ask, "and what if two electrons did touch each other?" a soft chuckle escapes ALBEDO's mouth, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smile, "apparently it would cause a nuclear reaction." "that sounds dangerous," you quip with a playful grin, admiring the way every single one of his features are perfectly framed by his face - he's exquisite, as if he'd been personally carved by the archons.

the air is weighted with tension, both of you refusing to break eye contact, and the silence is so intense a pin drop would be deafening. even though the temperature is meant to be subzero, forcing intrepid adventurers back down the mountain to retreat to the safety of mondstadt, somehow you're feeling warmer than you ever have before right now in this second as you stare at the mysterious alchemist. he runs his thumb across your upper lip with as much care as he would treat a fragile marble statue, eyes searching for your reaction with burning curiosity. when you don't recoil, a gentle smile graces his expression. he bends down slightly, voice dropping to a whisper as his breath caresses the shell of your ear, "but perhaps..."

without warning, he swallows the words brimming on your lips with a passionate kiss. it happens almost too quickly for you to register, but in a split second you're leaning in, clutching his shirt and pressing against him in an attempt to quench the fire burning in your core. when he pulls away, face flushed a cherry pink, ALBEDO pauses for a moment before diving in to steal yet another fiery kiss.

❝ i'd like to burn with you. ❞

© starglitterz 2021. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !