akinav

[akinav]

I FORGOT WE CAN CHANGE THE POSITION OF THE VISION SO HERES MINE REDESIGNED SJNXKZNSKSA

Picrew time !! Genshin style 🥰 link here

Here's mine

I'd like to see your Genshin self (but no pressure of course) @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @happybird16 @leviismybby @alexandra-dhampir

[akinav]

Here’s mine :)

(What did y’all expect ofc I’d make my hair like that)

But this was sm fun omg , I just wish they had more body type options instead of limiting us to just one but nonetheless this was so much fucking fun 😩💖

Tumblr ain’t letting me tag my moots 😔 so anyone can feel free to try this :)

Picrew time !! Genshin style 🥰 link here

Here's mine

I'd like to see your Genshin self (but no pressure of course) @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @happybird16 @leviismybby @alexandra-dhampir

[akinav]

nav!! bubs!! hi hi, yoi here to send in a little something hehe

today is december 1st and to that i say—happy december arnav dear!! may december treat you with upmost kindness and love and i hope that the entirety of 2023 treats you amazingly and lovingly, wishing you the very very best with everything and i hope that all goes well tomorrow and beyond! and i will keep you in my prayers bubs! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

love you lots bub! remember take care, take all the time and rest you need and deserve, treat yourself to tasty food and drink loooots of water! i wish you best of luck with everything for today and beyond, sending you lots of hugs right now and i'll see you later! <33

— much love, yoi.

HI KIE CHAN HELLO

IM SORRY I COULDNT ANSWER THIS B4 UK HOW MY TUMBLR WAS

But srsly tysmmm for ur wishes and I really hope even tho December is gonna end that u have an epic epic December and the rest of the year brings you tones of love and happiness :)) and I shall be beside u for all of that hehe 💖

[akinav]

Am I invited to your house

Come on in :))

I’m homies w crackmouche

[akinav]

nav!! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ(⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ(⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

hello hello bubs!! it is i, the menace to society that has come to send you both my gentle reminders and best wishes!

a super merry christmas to you dearest!! in case you don't celebrate then happy holidays bub! i am wishing you a lovely day filled with love, sweetness, kindness and joy! giving you lots of hugs and sweets right now!!! love you lots bubs, may you have the sweetest of holidays and days in general!

i am wishing you the best with everything bubs, be it for today, tomorrow or beyond—i shall keep you in both my prayers and thoughts! remember to take care and stay safe as well alright? love you! mwa mwa! 💕

— much love, yoi.

MY TUMBLR FINALLY WORKING OMFG

But omg tysmmmmmmmm kie chan 😭💖💖 I really appreciate the wishes and I absolutely wish u the same with 10000 times more love 💖💖

[akinav]

AYO AYATO ART AAAAAA THIS IS SO PRETYY IMMA DIE JDDJKSJDSJNSA thanks for feeding me 🛐

kamisato art: suiyuu

[akinav]

THIS IS SO WELL WRITTEN I LOVE THIS WHAT

The Glass Flute

Summary: Maybe emptiness is all we were born to hold. But perhaps, even if for the briefest slivers of time, we hold meaning in the palms of our undeserving hands.

Character(s): Scaramouche/Wanderer (Genshin Impact)

Genre: Angst, no comfort

Word count: 1.3k (one-shot)

Author's note: Today's been a new low for me, perhaps for the entirety of this calendar year. In anticipation for Wanderer's release later today, I thought I'd write him a little something. Not really edited.

If you enjoy my work, please consider reblogging or commenting instead of liking.

There was a certain beauty in the emptiness.

Emptiness. It once meant space - space to allow thoughts and feelings steeped in meaning to fill the vacant void, like craters in the ground filling with tranquil water after the sweet relief of rain - desperate to rid themselves of the hollowness of their very being.

It was the dark liquid that had flowed through his veins ever since he had opened his jewelled eyes in the darkness of Shakkei Pavilion, a vacant house long discarded by its own creator, in a century where the tainted darkness of the abyss had not yet corroded the lifeblood of this world; where the red maple leaves drifted down to the wooden floor in the serene obscurity.

Emptiness. It was what he had been created for; a crater terrified of the bottomlessness of its own depth; determined to illuminate the deep corroding dark with that celestial purple light as it chased away the shadows. For a vessel for the divine heart was what he was destined to be; forever yearning for the missing half of his whole. Alas, to bear the divine burden, he had been forged as a fragile ivory shell, aching for the crackling purple glow that was not his to contain.

This had always been his deigned purpose; he was but a brittle husk of the hopes and fears of his creator, meant to shatter; as surely as the world did turn. Eternally in stasis though she said she was, he watched from the dim grey halls of obsolescence as she moved on to brighter and better things; even as the seasons turned and the maple leaves lost the vitality of their reds and they, too, were left empty of life, empty of meaning.

But that was not how it had always been. The trees, they said in a distant land, had memories, and just as the bone-dry tree remembered to sprout new life as the snows thawed, so too did the puppet remember when instead of being haunted by this existential emptiness, his eyes had once filled with shining drops of emotion.

Indeed, before this vacant puppet had learned to hold the emptiness of his world in the palms of his freezing hands, he had once harboured a wellspring of emotion. It had bubbled from deep within what he, back then, had naively called the beginnings of a heart; before he had learned he was the graven image of a shadow that had long since passed from this world, a poor imitation of the vibrant spectrum of euphoric joys and deep sorrow that he was destined to never see or touch, but always be compared to, and always be less than.

It was when that spring of purer ambition had poured from his crystalline eyes, that his creator had turned him loose, adrift in the shadows, never knowing if he had succeeded or failed the monumental task that had rested on his pale, slender shoulders long before he had ever set eyes on the banalities of this world.

He did, indeed, have a penchant for the forgotten trivialities of this world. Few people would have stopped to gaze upon a discarded nest, perched precariously as it was, in between where two branches on the shrub joined together. But not him; there was something within him that coaxed him to stop and look at all these forgotten things, if only to be the only witness of its paltry existence.

I existed, and I saw you were there.

His gaze now lingered on this forgotten shelter, once a warm home for fledgling new life, but now bereft of life, bereft of purpose, left to disintegrate in the winds of time, for it was theirs to claim.

The birds themselves had long since vacated this makeshift home; and all that remained of passing life was a few broken pieces of eggshell, and the faintest tufts of down feathers, silhouetted against the oblique evening light.

The eggshell shard, nestled among the hastily-woven twigs and encased in a fine layer of dirt, was beautiful in its pathetic fragility. He reached out and gingerly picked it up from the nest, and held it up to the rays of the setting sun.

The slanting orange light flamed through the thin eggshell, and suffused with the golden warmth of an approaching twilight, the youth could not help but wonder.

Some things were beautiful because they were meant to be broken.

The eggshell, too, he surmised, was a porcelain sheath cast to house the most fragile of beginnings in the depravity of existence: the beginnings of a new life, born to weather the storms that ravage this realm, a safe-house meant for this most destructible of beginnings, a chance to exist, for the smallest sliver of time, as the seconds slowed between the death of one journey and the beginning of the next.

But what then, he thought bitterly, became of eggshells once the fledglings had hatched? They were nothing more than ivory shards of a broken past, the cracks in their exterior the heralds of new, unblemished life; relegated to dusty obscurity, forgotten even by those who had once held them dearer than life itself.

He watched as a tuft of forgotten down drifted from the discarded nest, of no consequence to anyone but the still blue of his eyes; to mingle with the earth below. This was the violence of creation, and somehow, the bitter end was somehow the kindest of them all.

Emptiness. It was what he had been born to hold, a vacant gaping hole within the very fibre of his existence, crafted to hold a purpose nobler than his very own.

But emptiness, vacancy, it had a powerful draw to satiety, to fill itself with meaning, to slot into itself a fullness that lessened the pain of its own longing, like puzzle pieces falling into place and discovering the meaning of their irregular, jagged edges that spilled the red blood of those who wandered too close to the edge of their destiny.

But even so, even to the most damned of us all, there are spaces in between the endless vicissitudes of life, where the pieces don’t quite fit together; and that is where the most fragile of happiness burrows itself, sequestered from the tides of fortune that would submerge it far beneath the waves. 

It was in one of these moments, that this wandering, eccentric youth had chanced upon the a mere trifle, lamentable in its transparent fragility -  a glass flute, that had perhaps been cast to merely amuse its creator, and set adrift when it, too, was deemed unworthy of its purpose, its vitreous halls forever drenched in silence, forever left vacant of the music it yearned to contain.

And so this porcelain, nameless youth had grasped within his transparent fingers, a fine crystal flute, glimmering in the shards of sunlight, throwing rainbow speckles over his trembling hands as he raised the diaphanous instrument to his lips, and began to play.

Flutes were meant to be born of the earth, rooted to a place; mellifluous notes flowing through the woven wood fibres, invoking a magic that nestled deep within the ancient forests from which the divine instrument was cut.

A glass flute, then, was pathetic in its cold, inhuman fragility; deemed by many to be inflexible to the meandering river of melody that coursed through the wooden instruments of the forest.

To this nameless, porcelain husk of a man - it was the hollowness deep within each note that carried deep within it the tragedy that this flute was born to bear, even as it filled the endless silence that settled all around him and made its home deep within his bones, as well. 

It, too, was born to be broken. But, in the stillness of the moments between its birth in liquid fires, and its inevitable demise in a shower of broken glass scattering rainbow glints as it fell, there was a forlorn, if ephemeral, beauty as liquid notes melted into the air, as both empty flute and empty heart issued a flickering plea to the cavernous eternity of existence.

“I existed, and I was there.”

Tags list: @ataraxyystories

DM/send an ask to be added to my tags list

[akinav]

LESSGOO OMG IM SO HAPPY FOR U , U DESERVE IT 💖

IT'S REAL OH MY GOOD GOD IT'S ACTUALLY HAPPENED I'M

[akinav]

THIS IS SO GOOD OMG

i was waiting to be unshadowbanned so i can post this. hi. im back.

scaramouche hates when you look at him like that.

when you just stare into his eyes all lovesick, when you stroke his face gently or play with his hair. why is it that he's the one embarrassed when you're the one being embarrassing anyway? so uncouth, this sheer admiration...but he isn't opposed to it.

"you have beautiful eyes." you comment out of nowhere, well he would assume so, you've been staring into them for what felt like hours now. but scaramouche bites back his witty reply, choosing to analyze your body language instead.

relaxed frame, lovesick eyes...

your stupid, lovesick eyes.

"they're my mothers." he says, he's talking about his eyes of course. those eyes that you love so much. they're not his, they're...hers.

you seem to pick up on that unspoken fact yourself actually, because you brush the little pieces of hair falling down his forehead and over his eyes away from his face with a gentle hand.

"they're yours." you remind him, watching as he grimaces slightly at that. he knows of course, he knows.

"your mother made this body. but you made you." scaramouche shivers at the thought, it's not the first time he's been told this but...hearing it from your lips is what makes it special.

[akinav]

OFC 💖💖💖

*gets up*

MY BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO FUCKING DAYS.

kie watch your language—NAH I'M LETTING MY INNER MENACE BE LOOSE MY BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO DAYS HOW THE HELL DID 2022 GO BY SO FAST?? I'M GONNA BE AN ADULT AND SHIT DAYM DUDE I'M SCARED 😩🤞

[akinav]

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY BESTIE SIDNSKDNA AND DW ULL DO AMAZING BEING AN ADULT 💖

*gets up*

MY BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO FUCKING DAYS.

kie watch your language—NAH I'M LETTING MY INNER MENACE BE LOOSE MY BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO DAYS HOW THE HELL DID 2022 GO BY SO FAST?? I'M GONNA BE AN ADULT AND SHIT DAYM DUDE I'M SCARED 😩🤞

[akinav]

Random pics of my dog cuz I FUCKING LOVE HIM AND MISS HIM SM SKXNSKDNAJSN

[akinav]

CANON AND SO TRUE AHAHAHA

Also dottore pls stop I-

"do childe and dottore prank arleccino?"

don't even get me started on childe because he does, then there's dottore stealing the kids from the orphanage

i absolutely love this place (not)

[akinav]

And when it’s 4am for u , we don’t care what time it’s here cuz we join u 😎🤝

inhales deeply

i fucking love my friends.

[akinav]

Love u too bestie hehe

inhales deeply

i fucking love my friends.

[akinav]

U DESERVE IT 💖💖 here’s to hoping a lot more followers in the future that will experience the greatness of this blog :) 🍻

HAJSKDHD YOU GUYSSSSSS

THANK YOU SO MUCH! 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

When I first joined Tumblr I genuinely didn't expect so many people to enjoy my little drabbles and fics and honestly it means a lot that there's so many of you who like to read what I post or look at my art 🥺💜😭

You guyssss 💜 especially my moots y'all hella chaotic but your support for me and my work never fails to make me smile and I LIVE for y'all's tags and reblogs I literally read and reread them when I'm feeling down ~

Now @crimsonji (who is extremely slay and you should follow him if you don't already) and I can think about our little fic Collab event we have some ideas don't we? ignoring the part where I promised to send kaz some fic brainrots and didn't get a chance because rory-san is high on copium once again grad school amirite

Thank you guyssss 💜 and hopefully as we segue into winter break (soon) expect to see a lot more fic and art activity on here soon once I dig myself out of the hole known as finals

[akinav]

LMAO

When people try to erase your memory