#abt; genshin

[averaillisa]

I think they should be insufferable together. actually

[cantobear]

another vision of mine...

[tinartss]

something something two guys walk into a garden

[zephyrine-gale]

thinking about scaramouche team dynamics ft scarabedo

[taterdraws]

act V of the fontaine archon quest repeatedly kneed me in the gut like our besties to the poor npcs in furina's demo

[churomo]

[erabu-san]

Lyney and Lynette switching their outfit

Bonus :

[emirrea]

Imagine if Furina decided to travel the world one day and Neuvillette just starts writing strongly-worded letters to the archons like:

"Dear [insert archon], let it be known, that if anything were to befall Furina de Fontaine while she is travelling on your land, your judgement day shall be rescheduled 200 years earlier."

[wriochilde]

you're diagnosed, let's toast to nature's laws!

[enduracarrotchips]

encounter

[asbestos-11]

the pookies of all time <3333333333333

[shrewcafe]

have some focallette fluff before they go thru divorce / neuvillette becomes widowed (idk) in the next genshin update!!!!1!1!

[stardustdiiving]

I need to interview the sumeru cast about what they think of Wanderer because he’s realistically he’s just Some Guy to them. Their interactions with him are probably mostly based off what we see in the Darshan tournament.

This is so funny to me. Can you imagine being Tighnari and this newbie Vahumana student who’s spent the entire tournament being vaguely prickly and sulking around ominously in the background comes up to you after you collapse from heat exhaustion scoffing about how “humans are such fragile beings who can’t even stand extreme temperatures 🙄” as he gives you water. You don’t know he’s a puppet or that he’s why you got struck by lightning that one time. He’s just some guy in a hat saying this. What does he mean by it. Is he not human. Is he human and for some reason thinks he’s built different and therefore immune to heatstroke? IS he immune to heatstroke?

You don’t know. He leaves without another word and shows up later to fly around and fistfight you and multiple of your friends for a crown all at once . You can ask his classmates about him but they just find him charming(??????????) and entertaining. They assume him making snide remarks about the follies of humanity he is apparently immune to is just One of His Quirks, in the same way they have Never Seen Him Sleep Before

[tinartss]

silence (and the lack thereof)

+ i did not end up going down this route but i kinda went down a rabbit hole researching the importance of silence in linguistics and found this neat passage from the world of silence by max picard and it made me think of them so i thought id share with the class🫡

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

[noranb]

soft diluc my weakness