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iceunhie · 11 months ago

Text

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

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# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

#mhie's spirals #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fanfic #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #genshin wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader

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literaryvein-reblogs · 28 days ago

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Writing Ideas: Magical & Mystic Locations

Abyssal Depths: The deepest, darkest, and most treacherous part of the abyss.

Ancient Observatory: A centuries-old observatory with mystical stargazing abilities.

Astral Observatory: A tower where seers gaze into the astral plane.

Celestial Gauntlet: A place connecting different celestial realms.

Celestial Realm: A realm bathed in divine light and inhabited by celestial beings.

Clockwork Village: A community where clockwork automatons coexist with magic.

Cloud Castle: A fortress floating amidst the clouds, home to skyward adventurers.

Cloud City: A metropolis suspended in the clouds accessible by airships.

Cosmic Wormhole: A portal to the far reaches of the cosmos and beyond.

Crystal Caves: A labyrinthine system of caves adorned with luminescent crystals.

Crystal Coast: A stunning coastline adorned with iridescent gemstones.

Crystal Spire: A towering spire made of crystalline material.

Crystalline Caverns: A series of interconnected caverns adorned with shining crystals.

Cursed Swamp: A creepy swamp home to cursed beings.

Dark Abyss: A seemingly bottomless chasm shrouded in darkness.

Dragon's Lair: A cavernous home to a colossal, slumbering dragon.

Dragon's Nest: A safe haven for dragon eggs and their young.

Dragon's Roost: A mountaintop lair where dragons dwell and guard their hoard.

Dream Realm: A surreal realm where dreams come to life.

Dreamcatcher Grove: A grove where dreamcatchers capture and store dreams.

Dreamcatcher Trees: Trees where dreamcatchers grow, capturing the dreams of the forest.

Dwarven Mines: Underground tunnels where dwarves mine precious gemstones.

Elemental Plane: A realm where the elements take on sentient forms and powers.

Elemental Portal: A convergence point for elemental forces and magic.

Elemental Sanctuary: A sanctuary where elemental beings find refuge.

Elven Enclave: A secluded and mystical enclave of elven culture.

Elven Kingdom: An elegant realm ruled by noble and immortal elves.

Enchanted Forest: A sprawling woodland where trees whisper ancient secrets.

Enchanted Garden: A flourishing garden filled with magical, sentient plants.

Enchanted Tides: A coastal area where the tides are influenced by magic.

Enchanted Treetops: Canopy of an enchanted forest where treetop dwellings are built.

Enchanted Waterfall: A waterfall with the power to purify and heal.

Eternal Garden: A garden where time has no effect.

Ethereal Castle: A castle that materializes and dematerializes in the ethereal plane.

Fairy Ring: A circle of mushrooms where fairies gather to dance and celebrate.

Fairy Village: A charming settlement inhabited by tiny, mischievous fairies.

Fire Elemental Forge: A forge where fire elementals craft fiery weapons.

Firefly Forest: A forest where fireflies light up the night with their glow.

Floating Islands: A realm of floating landmasses suspended in the sky.

Floating Gardens: Gardens suspended in the sky, nurtured by air and magic.

Forbidden Tomb: A tomb filled with ancient curses, traps, and treasures.

Forgotten Ruins: Crumbling remains of a once-great civilization.

Ghost Ship: A spectral vessel crewed by ghostly sailors sailing eternally.

Gnome Workshop: A bustling factory where gnomes invent fantastical gadgets.

Gnomish Workshop: A lively workshop where gnomes tinker with fantastic inventions.

Goblin Kingdom: A mischievous kingdom ruled by cunning goblin royalty.

Goblin Market: A chaotic bazaar run by cunning goblins selling magical wares.

Goblin Tunnels: A network of underground tunnels and caverns inhabited by goblins.

Haunted Castle: A spectral fortress filled with restless, ghostly inhabitants.

Haunted Manor: A mansion haunted by restless spirits and poltergeists.

Haunted Marsh: A desolate and ghostly marshland.

Haunted Sea Passage: A narrow sea passage known for its eerie, haunting sounds.

Hidden Valley: A secluded valley with a serene and mystical ambiance.

Hidden Waterfall: A secluded cascade concealed behind a shimmering veil of illusion.

Hidden Waterways: Subterranean rivers and water passages hidden from sight.

Ice Palace: A palace made of ice and snow.

Isle of Echoes: An island known for echoing whispers and eerie sounds.

Labyrinth: A maze filled with twists, turns, and perplexing puzzles.

Lost Oasis: An oasis hidden deep within a desert, holding hidden wonders.

Lost Shipwreck: The remnants of a ship lost to time, holding forgotten treasures.

Lost Temple: An ancient temple concealed in a dense jungle, holding untold treasures.

Magic Bazaar: A marketplace overflowing with enchanted trinkets and artifacts.

Magical Market: A bustling market where magical goods and creatures are sold.

Mermaid Lagoon: A vibrant underwater lagoon inhabited by merfolk.

Monolith Structure: A monolithic black structure with mysterious powers.

Moonlit Grotto: A subterranean cavern bathed in the ethereal light of the moon.

Moonstone Quarry: A quarry where precious moonstones are harvested.

Mysterious Well: A well said to reveal glimpses of the past and future to those who peer into it.

Mystic Library: A vast repository of otherworldly knowledge guarded by sentient books.

Mythical Mountain: A towering peak said to be the home of mythical creatures.

Nightmare Realm: A nightmarish dimension where fears and terrors manifest.

Pirate Cove: A hidden haven for swashbuckling pirates and their treasure.

Rainbow Bridge: A radiant arch connecting different realms.

Serene Glade: A serene glade where the boundary between realms is thin.

Shadowy Forest: A forest cloaked in eternal night and inhabited by shadowy creatures.

Shifting Sands Dunes: A desert where the sands are in constant motion, hiding ancient relics.

Sorcerer's Tower: A towering structure where a powerful sorcerer resides.

Space Nexus: A place in the stars where all galaxies converge.

Spirit Sanctuary: A haven where spirits of the departed find peace and rest.

Starfall Lake: A serene lake under a constant meteor shower.

Stargazing Grove: A tranquil grove illuminated by the light of countless stars.

Stargazing Ridge: A ridge that experiences frequent meteor showers.

Steampunk Airship: A fantastical flying vessel powered by steam and gears.

Steampunk City: A technologically advanced city with a Victorian aesthetic.

Sunken Ruins: The remnants of a once-mighty civilization beneath the sea.

Timeless Realm: A place where time stands still, frozen in eternal beauty.

Time-Warp Tavern: A tavern where time travelers gather to swap tales.

Troll Bridge: A bridge guarded by trolls, demanding a toll from travelers.

Underwater City: An illuminated metropolis beneath the ocean's depths.

Underworld: A realm ruled by dark deities and inhabited by the deceased.

Underworld Abyss: A chasm leading to the deepest, darkest depths of the underworld.

Underworld Citadel: A citadel deep within the underworld, home to dark powers.

Unicorn Meadows: Fields where graceful unicorns roam freely.

Vampire Castle: A foreboding castle inhabited by ancient vampire lords.

Whispering Pines: A tranquil forest where the pine trees whisper secrets.

Witch's Cauldron Room: A room with a bubbling cauldron said to grant potent magical brews.

Witch's Cottage: A crooked, mysterious dwelling surrounded by enchanted herbs.

Witch's Labyrinth: A twisting maze filled with magical traps and challenges.

Wizard's Academy: A prestigious school of magic where wizards are trained.

Wonderland: A surreal landscape filled with whimsical and absurd wonders.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#settings #fantasy #worldbuilding #writing ideas #writeblr #literature #writing reference #dark academia #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #light academia #writing inspiration #writing resources

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joy99x · 27 days ago

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Stupid, Emotional, Obsessive

💋Yandere！Kaveh x Reader

Tw!!! Emotional manipulation, obsessive love/yandere behavior, extreme emotional dependency, jealousy, gaslighting, anxiety episodes, self worth issues, implied threats of sh, power imbalance

Kaveh is sitting on the edge of the couch in your shared apartment. Well—not really shared. He never officially moved in, but his toothbrush is here, his books are stacked in the corner, and his jacket still hangs by the door. That’s enough to make it both of yours in his eyes.

The sun had long vanished beneath the edge of the desert, and the sky over Sumeru had deepened to violet. Lanterns flickered along the edges of the bazaar, casting wavering shadows across colorful awnings and tile roofs. Music still played somewhere below, faint strains of a sitar drifting up into the dark, but in your house, silence reigned — heavy, aching, and stretched far too thin.

Kaveh sat alone, elbows resting on a scroll-strewn desk, eyes hollow and red-rimmed, hands shaking where they gripped the edge of the table. A stack of untouched architectural sketches sat beside him, smeared in places where teardrops had fallen.

Your scarf was still draped over the back of the chair. He’d reached for it at least three times in the last hour. Once to smell it. Twice to clutch it like it could summon you back.

You were supposed to be home.

You’d told him that morning — with a soft smile, hand brushing over his sleeve like it meant nothing — “Nilou invited me to see her dance rehearsal. I won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be back before the sun sets.”

He remembered how you smiled when you spoke her name.

Nilou this. Nilou that.

Nilou’s dancing. Cyno’s jokes. Sethos’ kindness. Tighnari’s intelligence.

You told him he was beautiful often. Even when he cried, especially when he cried. You told him when the sun hit just right, his hair looked like it was made of gold. You tell him he could fall and shatter and you would still be there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

He believed your words when your hand was on top of his. Hell, you can tell him the sky is fake and he’d believe it.

But now, hours past sunset, you were still with her.

The thought made his chest ache with more than worry. It was jealousy — green and bitter, acidic enough to burn through his lungs. And enough to make him nauseous. His thoughts spiraled: what if you’d stayed on purpose?

You don’t understand what it’s like. The second you smile, he feels lightheaded. You laugh and the air is knocked out from his lungs. When you two lazily lay in bed, legs tangled and your naked chest pressing into his, he wishes he could die right then and there so he would die happy.

But when you stay out too late, come home too late, it feels like he’s been thrown into a void; gasping, drowning in the fear of abandonment he can’t shake of no matter how many times you say “I am not going anywhere, sunshine.”

Because one day you will, you will get sick of his whining and crying and you will leave. He would grovel at your feet when you pack your bags, maybe break some stuff and even pathetically put himself between the door and you to keep you here for just a few seconds more. Like those seconds would be enough to change your mind

And that day, would be his last. He told you that many times.

He stood up too fast and nearly knocked over the inkpot. Pacing. Wracking his mind.

He remembers Alhaitham’s words—“You’re too emotionally dependent. It’s suffocating.”

He hated that he was right.

Should he go to the theatre? Walk straight through the square and demand to see you? But what if you weren’t there? What if you were at her home now, laughing over tea while Kaveh wept alone like a fool?

“No one will make it their life goal to fix you.”

He hated this. Hated how weak he felt. But he hated even more the idea that someone else might get to bask in your presence while he trembled in your absence

When the door creaked open, he swung his head so fast he nearly heard a crack.

You stepped inside, wind-tossed and slightly out of breath, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sorry I’m late,” you said. “We stopped for dessert at a tea stall—”

“With Nilou?” he interrupted sharply.

Your smile faltered.

He was already walking toward you — eyes wide, face stricken. “You were with her this whole time?”

“I told you I would be,” you said gently. “Kaveh, what’s wrong?”

“You said you’d be back before sundown,” he choked out, and just like that, the first tear fell. “You promised. And you were with her for hours—do you even know how long I waited?!” Even though he didn’t want to, he raised his voice at you. You warned him many times you didn’t like it. Yet still, like an unwanted and stupid teenager, he did.

He was brilliant—his designs legendary, his passion unmatched. But now, all that intensity was directed at you, like sunlight through glass, burning everything it touched. Was it devotion or destruction? Mm, who knows?

You tried to step closer, to soothe him, but he pulled away.

“Is she better than me?” he whispered, voice raw and broken. “Is that it? You look at her the way you used to look at me. Every time you say her name, I feel like I’m losing you.”

You paused. Just for a little while.

“Kaveh… You’re so hopeless… Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?” You purred, a little cynical and a little lovely.

“I-I just missed you.”His voice cracked mid-sentence.

He collapsed onto his knees in front of you, burying his face in your robes like a broken thing.

“I thought something happened,” he sobbed. “Or worse—that you realized I’m not enough. That you’d found someone else who wasn’t so… pathetic.” He tried to smile and it came out broken, like it hurt to fake so.

You knelt with him, holding him tight as he shook with grief and insecurity.

“You know I like it when you miss me.” you say, stepping closer, voice low and steady. Your hands roaming through his hair with feather light touches. Slow and deliberate

He gasps, eyes wide and glassy. “You do?”

“Mhm.” You cup his cheek with deliberate slowness, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “But next time, don’t make me feel like I have to comfort you just because you got lonely. I’m starting to think you only keep me around so you have a shoulder to sob on.”

He gasps even louder at that, hands grasping at your waist like you’re the only thing tethering him to the world.

“N-no! I would never! I’m nothing without you… ı don’t want anyone else,” he breathes, voice thick with emotion. “I just want you. Always.”

You hum, smiling lazily as you drop your hand to his nape, tracing circles and shapes with your nails

“Good boy.”

You feel how he shivers under your touch— like he’s being seen, praised, insulted and known at the same time

Your fingers trail down his throat, lingering at the dip of his collarbone, feeling his heartbeat stutter against your palm.

“But if you ever make me feel like I’m just your emotional support again,” your voice sharpens just enough to make him flinch, “I’ll start wondering if someone else would cry prettier for me.”

He shakes his head wildly, tears spilling anew. “No, no, no, please. I can do better. I can be better. I’ll be anything you want. Just don’t look at anyone else. Please, I’m begging you.”

The candlelight flickered between you, fragile and fluttering like his voice.

You kiss the corner of his eye, tasting salt. “Then stay on your knees, sunshine. And don’t forget who you belong to.”

“I won’t,” he promises, breathless. “I swear, I won’t. I’m yours. Forever.”

And he means it—every word, every vow, every shattered syllable. Because even if it breaks him, even if it turns him into something hollow and trembling and utterly yours… he’d rather be broken at your feet than whole anywhere else.

“Then prove it.”

Your lips finds his, your grip on his neck getting tighter. He sobs again, this time with something dangerously close to joy.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #sub!genshin #genshin kaveh #kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #yan #yancore #yandere #yandere!reader #yandere!kaveh #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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toriaaniin · 7 days ago

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2+1=3 😁💙

Happy Father's Day to Luke!

To celebrate Luke’s first Father’s Day, I want to share one soft breadcrumb that I believe signals a pregnancy announcement from Luke and Nicola. You may not agree—and that’s okay! Just follow my thought-steps and tell me what you think 😜

Step 1: That random IG story

On the morning (my time) of November 10, 2024, Luke posted a story celebrating his favorite football team—Brighton & Hove Albion—winning 2–1 over Manchester City. Timing? Around 15 hours after the match ended.

"It's his favourite team", you say. Paraphrasing you say: "He talked about the bright white colour of sea gulls in Australia, compared them to the grey ones in Brighton and the fact that his fave team is named after a sea gull". "He's a man... of course he'll post about sports. What's the big deal?".

Now… how often does Luke post about sports? I’ve followed his and Nicola’s IG since 2020-ish (first as a Polin fan → shipping Lukola from about February 2024), and I don’t remember any sports posts. After June 2024, Luke had gone fairly quiet. So this story felt out of left field (pun intended!).

What do we have so far? A random sports cheer to an account Luke said he's using more professionally, hours after the game win. Curious.

Step 2: Coordinated stories

Two hours later, Nicola re-shared an IG story posted by Photographer Zoe McConnell... and when I followed back to Zoe's original IG story, I discovered that Luke and Zoe posted at close to the same moment.

Zoe posted a two-year old photo of Nicola with a tag and a heart emoji. She didn’t mention Nicola’s Harper’s Bazaar award (Nov 6). She could have said: "Two years ago we were celebrating Nicola's win of the TV Actor's award at the GlamourUK Women of the Year Awards and now we are celebrating Nicola again! Congrats, Nicola!" But she didn't.

She simply posted this old photo, where Nicola’s hands are gently resting on her abdomen 👀

Again—why? Timing felt too perfect to be random.

What about Luke's post tells me it's part of a pregnancy announcement?

Step 3: The clue system

Here’s the juicy bit—thanks to my friend Jane, who said:

“2 + 1 = 3!”

That’s our first clue:

Brighton scored 2, Man City scored 1 → total = 3.

Then there’s “Full Time”—the end of a 90-minute game. Let’s extrapolate minutes to days: 90 minutes is now 90 days, and 90 days from Nov 10 lands on February 8, 2025.

Combine those:

A score of 2–1, adding up to three.

90 days, pointing to Feb 8.

And the blue heart 💙 with toothy smile emoji? Could be hinting at a baby boy.

I'll add this thought: Luke knew that Nicola and Zoe had something planned for the day because he was part of that plan—in fact, it's possible that he and Nicola had something else for him to post that day—but when his team won their game, and with this score, he saw the perfect opportunity to join in on the subtle pregnancy breadcrumb with his own tongue-in-cheek twist.

Step 4: JVN’s story as a follow-up clue

On November 20, JVN shared an IG story that felt like another little nudge—maybe part of the same layered reveal. (I'll attach the video here so you can see why it stuck out.)

So now we have:

A quiet yet coordinated sports story.

A shared photo with abdominal focus.

“2 + 1 = 3”, Full Time = 90 days, blue heart hinting at a boy.

JVN’s follow offering a sweet echo.

youtube

Final thoughts

If this is indeed a private announcement shared in subtle sync:

The score 2–1 hints at three lovebirds in the family nest.

90 days to February 8 fits a due date.

💙 suggests a baby boy.

And that JVN video? It might just be the final layer of affirmation.

So here's my guess: Luke and Nicola welcomed their baby—a boy—sometime in early February or late January. I personally feel (for no reason, just a feeling) that February 4—the release date for Misdirected—was Nicola's due date, but you know how babies are... they don't stick to schedules! Whether February 8, February 4, or January 29 (I have a couple clues that suggest this as actual delivery date, but I could be wrong because guess what; I wasn't there 😜), or somewhere in between, Luke and Nicola had a baby

Your turn!

Have I overthought the football post?

Or is this secret message making sense—a soft, public timeline revealing something beautiful?

Either way, it’s a beautiful breadcrumb to hold on this Father’s Day.

"Happily ever after; end of season 3 vibes". Luke said himself that he wants this, and I'm so happy for him! Happy Father’s Day, Luke—may this one be full, warm, and unforgettable.

Aaniin Xxx

P.S. I'm editing this post to add this... on November 11, 2024, Zoe posted another photo of Nicola from the same photoshoot two years prior. Also on November 11, photographer Rachell Smith posted a photo of Luke. Check out the captions for each—Princess Peach and a Knight in Shining—looks like a coordinated confirmation of the pregnancy announcement fun from the day prior!

#lukola

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starryeyed-seer · 16 hours ago

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It'll be who knows how long until chapter 7 of creatures of heaven is done, but i finished the second scene and really really like how it has gone, so I'm gonna share what I have so far :)

You don't need context of other chapters to understand what is going on. Basically they're in their #divorceEra but neither is able or willing to discuss or acknowledge it.

Also, in the first scene, Mr Veils is there. DW about it.

Length: 1,500

Content warnings: (Technically) cannibalism, overeating, vomit— all quite mild and artsy

—

Within the shelter of the witherways, under the light of no sun, the Messenger does not bask— she hungers.

It is not quite dark in the tree-burrow. Dim roots cast her skin in carmine-black light. It is only on the long journeys she is allowed rest, to feed her aching feet. Her fingers dig at rotting wood and peel mycelium from the walls.

She is not the only creature taking refuge among the refuse. The damp air is punctuated with flutters and creaks, rot and rummaging impossible to differentiate. Rather than mask her digging, she clicks her dorsal plates— a constant rhythm warning all to keep away.

“Lost,” comes the voice of a fool. She twists in her burrow, claws at the ready.

“Hungry,” she corrects. “Little bird, foolish owl, do you know the Name of the one you seek to make prey? Be gone, or be made into something worse.” She cannot see the visitor. It is wise enough to keep a distance.

“O Courier of Pallid-Gold— your Name is more than known,” its voice is air, light as silk. “You are returning to your master now. You tarry.”

“I hunger,” she repeats, tasting the damp and not finding the intruder. She taps her claws in staccato rhythms as she sidles out of her burrow. “I know well your flesh, and how little it will sate me.”

“It sent you to the lands of the Saffronic Lord.”

“It is a violation of Law to read the mail of a King.” She pokes out, tendrils hunting for the slightest tremor.

“What law? I see none.” It purrs. “Only the letters and the light, only a Courier who feasts for nights upon nights. The journey before this one was to the Saffronic. The one after shall be as well.”

“You are canny for your kin.” She scuttles out of her hole, searching the far branches of the witherways for the crimson gaze of her guest.

“How many golden millennia has it been?”

“Is this how you hunt, night owl? Needles to the skin?” she says. Then: a soft noise from behind her, the rustle of fabric in the wind. It is clinging to the ceiling of the burrow, in a niche which had escaped her notice. “Or is this what you hoard— inadvisable decisions?”

She strikes at the visitor with her tail, barb aimed to impale. The visitor drops with anticipatory speed, twirling on silent wings as it darts away from her tendrils and claws. “We might have spoken,” it says, the words a wake as it sails into the darkness.

“We have,” she says.

She returns to her hunger.

His mail would be late, again.

A long, long time ago, the Messenger would visit the surface of the sun warmed Earth. Her fingers would reach into the soil, and her eyes would close, and she would mourn.

He allowed this.

Now He does not.

His world is blue and gold and green and beautiful. What worthy fruit the deathrattle has born! His table is heavy with harvest and at last He may be satiated.

Iron teeth and aureate tongue devour ripe fruit— one, one, one. It will end, when the hour comes for tithes, but He was starved. Of course He gorges. Of course He hungers.

The Messenger waits and wonders what they taste of, these children, and if she tastes better. If she threw herself at Him, if she swam into His eye, if she drowned within His jaws— would He tell her, then, before He swallowed? Would He tell her— would He say—

Would He hunger, when she was all gone?

Would He miss her?

(If only for her flavour).

“Here I am, O Lord,” she calls.

“O Messenger.” The turn of His gaze. He does not look at her with desire.

“O Lord.”

“Messenger.”

She does not answer and He does not question. This is not the way of things, but theirs is not the way of things. Let silence speak— it cannot, but for a moment the God and the Messenger look at each other, and nothing else exists.

His voice shatters it, and everything is there once more. “I have been waiting for you.”

“I am late,” she speaks, knowing otherwise it would never be said.

“I know. I have been waiting.”

He outstretches one arm, and watches her with one face. She crawls to Him and buries her face against His fingers as she is read. Six hands do not touch her, and six faces do not gaze at her.

It does not take long.

Her Lord threads a singular word into her flesh: coordinates and instruction. The next move in the game He plays with the Saffronic; perhaps this time He will win. (Perhaps He loses so that He may continue to play.)

The letter sears against her, agitating her blood until it boils. She is His Messenger: now she is to leave, so that years from now she may return. Now she must do as her bones command, because her body knows no other way. Her legs ache with the need to run, gnawing the longer she resists.

His hand withdraws, and she is set adrift. It is cold on the outskirts of His attention, at the shadow of His table.

“I am starving,” she lies. “I cannot leave without food.”

She shivers below the shade of His high table, the passing of a cloud before her sun. He is obscured, as much as He can ever be, as she drifts in the solar winds.

His voice is a whisper, when heard in the shadows. “Whither are the witherways? The shattered copse of Yesteryear's King? You called it a feasting ground to last seven thousand years more.”

“I have not eaten,” she lies. “My Lord, I am hollow. My legs will fail mere steps from your kingdom. Your message shall be lost as my body is devoured. I will not make it. I will not return.”

The Earth turns past in its slumber. How blessed, how sweet— the gentle curves of rivers and sea, where craters have blossomed, blue and gold and beautiful, so beautiful. The moon by its side watches over its sleep, silver dappled sunlight protecting the land from true night.

It hurts the Messenger, when the planet spins away. His light is sharp and sudden, and His eye is upon her. “Is that true?”

“Am I lying?”

She believes that the stillness of His tongue is her answer. She speaks for Him, as messengers are wont to do.

“No, Lord, I repeat only truth,” she lies. “I am ravenous, I am starved. One mere step outside your light and I would surely perish.”

“Then you must eat.”

“Then I must be fed.”

In everything they have not said, there is more they have not done. What would she be, if measured by all she could not? (And He— he would not exist at all).

They are too far apart, yet the distance between their eyes is an iron rod; She cannot rise to Him, He will not reel her. They are too distant to speak like this. They are witnessed by an orrery of eyes.

He blinks.

The mirror-moon is all that remains of his light, a stream of silver half-illuminating the Kingdom. Law withers in the shadows and the Messenger tastes ice underneath her tongue.

A clatter in the darkness, of glass and stone, and there in the blink (in the dark, in the night), the king has toppled his chalice. There in the empty (in the half-dim, in the dream-light) of his dining table, manna rains upon the Messenger.

She takes and she takes, pushing past what her body says about her hunger— what does her body know of being, here where it cannot be seen? The food of the gods is wax and wick, gum to her jaws, clay to her gut— she is not fire, and it will not melt as it is meant to, taste as it is meant to, fuel her as it is—

But it tastes like Him. Not the ash of after but the furnace of now, the eternity of promise and the certainty of glory. It is truth because it can be nothing else, it is truth because it has been shaped to be so, born to be so, not the end of the leash but the Chain in its entirety— the line never ending, the word ever lasting, a candle among a billion which from a distance resembles an ever lasting bonfire.

She will be ill. Only when the universe stops holding its breath will she stop. It tastes like Him. It looks like her.

It tastes of her.

This she had not known, but she knows everything when all that exists is this flavour and a speckle of moonlight. This is her— this is him— yes, this is them, and Stone (O Stone!). It is gritty and scrapes at her throat, and she will be ill, but in each soul she consumes, it is her taste that lingers.

The lights flick on, and the Messenger lays in a pool of blood and sick. Animal that she is, she has been licking her Master's wine off the floor— beast that she is, she can be excused, and this can be forgotten.

Hungry as she will be, empty and needing and wanting as she will be, she looks to the sun and the sun looks to her, and there is a letter stitched to her skin which is begging to be delivered.

#this is the chapter about hunger and too much hunger and hungering too far and hunger is desire ofc #creatures of heaven #suncrab #my artsy weirdass prose. how fun you are to bs #veils is an owl. veils is here bc i believe veils was the first master of the bazaar #i can say sooo much about what is going on ans i hope half of it is conveyed #about what can and cant be said out loud what it means to be spoken what the nature of truth is via the sun etc

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faunandfloraas · 1 month ago

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After The Rain - Seungmin for the June issue of Harper's Bazaar Korea by Yoon Hye-young - interview under the cut

How was the Harper's Bazaar shoot today? It rained on and off all day, was it gloomy?

Seungmin: When we started, I was worried because it was raining so hard, but then the sun came out and it felt like it was meant to be. I loved the location, and I actually have this running scene as my phone wallpaper these days. (Shows phone screen) Cows running around at the foot of the Alps.... I was thinking that I would love to spend the whole day in such an open space, just lying still, watching the animals and having a beer, and then today I was lucky enough to have my favorite backdrop spread out in front of me. It's even better that it's with Burberry, because I've always loved their outdoor clothing, especially the trench coats. The first luxury item I bought after my debut was a Burberry card wallet.

Harper's Bazaar: You're the main vocalist of Stray Kids, looking at your activities so far, you can clearly feel the sincerity in your singing. I heard that you've been receiving vocal lessons consistently without a break since your debut. Are you practicing every day these days?

Seungmin: When I first started learning songs, I would do some math, right? If there was a lyric sheet, I would check every breathing part and make a calculation- in this part, I would sing like this, and in that part, I would put this kind of emotion... That's how I practiced. These days, without a written record, I try to make my own interpretation based on what I've honed inside. I think it feels better to hear compliments like "you have a different side" than "you sing well."

How would you define your style as a vocalist?

Seungmin: It's abstract. What I'm striving for these days is that when I drop a pebble of a song into the lake of emotion, the ripples continue until the end of the song, and I want those ripples to carry over to the audience. For this reason, I'm trying to be freer with my emotions than before. If I'm sad, I cry, if I'm angry, I complain... I've always been a very patient person, and I think this change in me is slowly being reflected in my songs, as fans often notice.

Harper's Bazaar: Talent and effort each play a role in becoming a good singer.

Seungmin: I think talent is 10% and effort is 90%. As the years go by, I realize how much a singer's attitude is connected to the song. When I sing without feeling, the listeners don't feel anything.

Harper's Bazaar: Was the current Seungmin also created with 10% talent and 90% effort?

Seungmin: I'd add more. (Laughs) I would say talent 5% effort 95% If I skip a day of practice, it shows right away. When I first joined the team, I wasn't even the main vocalist. I don't remember standing in front of others singing even when I was young. There are stories of famous singers who were exceptionally good at singing since childhood, going to auditions or standing out at school plays. I just listened to what I liked and worked hard as much as I liked, and that's how I got here. I vaguely dreamed of being a band vocalist while listening to Muse, and I learned what it means to feel heartbroken while listening to Kim Dong Ryul. What's really great about practice is the sense of satisfaction you get when you face a wall and overcome it, one by one. You can't always get good results in real life, but you increase your odds through practice.

Harper's Bazaar Muse and Kim Dong-ryul? That's an analog sensibility. (Laughs)

Seungmin: I'm really slow. I don't have TikTok on my phone, and I don't really watch shorts. I like old things more than new things. The world seems too fast. It's a time where you can easily make something without putting in effort. Even if you just leave the translation to AI, it's done in an instant. Of course, it's an efficient system, but I think I'm more interested in authenticity. That's why I often hear people say that I'm an old man. What can I do? It's my style (laughs)

Harper's Bazaar So you keep a diary too?

Seungmin: I've been keeping a practice journal since 2017. At that time, I used to mechanically write down what I learned today and what I have to learn tomorrow, but now I think it's become a habit. These days, I write down my feelings in a journal. No matter how trivial the content is, when I look back later, the memories from that time come back vividly and it helps. I could use a notepad on my phone, but I insist on paper and pen. The time I write in my journal is an opportunity to sit at my desk every night and look into my heart for at least 5 minutes. Even if I write, "I don't want to write today. I'll just sleep," no matter how tired I am, I always write at least two lines and go to bed.

Please tell me a passage from Harper's Bazaar diary (laughs)

Seungmin starts off by saying, "Tomorrow is a very important day, so I've put a sheet mask on and even if I'm really sleepy right now, I'm holding this pen." I really write anything (Laughs)

Harper's Bazaar: I believe that what kind of music you're listening to these days can tell you a lot about a person, so I'm curious about Seungmin's recent playlist.

Seungmin: When I get into a song, I listen to it until I get sick of it, or until my emotions run out. That's why my playlists are always concise and well-organized. These days, I've been listening to Ariana Grande's "Twilight Zone" for over a week. I'm the type that's weak in imagination. My MBTI is Sensing (S), not Intuitive (N). But this song makes imagination possible, which is amazing.

According to Stray kids members, Seungmin is the type that once he gets into something, he sticks with it until the end- are you a stable type?

Seungmin: I can't handle anxiety very well. Stability is the best (laugh). Whether it's baseball or singing, if I get into something, I don't get tired of it and just keep going. It's the same with relationships. Once I'm connected to someone, I want to keep the relationship with that person until the end. My closest friends right now are all from elementary, middle, and high school. If you take loyalty out of it, it's dead (smile). I never betray people who are close to me.

Harpers bazaar: Everyone wears a t-shirt of their favorite band from their teenage years, so it seems like people live their whole lives with the music they listened to in their teens and 20s. Looking back, which song do you think will be your theme song?

Seungmin: I think it's "As We Are" that I wrote. It's the song that best represents my 20s. I would choose another song, but this song means a lot to me, and I had a hard time writing the lyrics. It was really hard to bring out the parts of myself that I wanted to be recognized, and didn't want to be recognized. It's a song that reflects me. The reason why the aspect ratio of the MV is 4:3 instead of 16:9 is because it is based on actual memories from my childhood.

Harper's Bazaar: The lyrics in the introduction of this song, "I tried to do well/ I ran forward without looking back/ but i tripped and fell/ And I ended up falling behind/ why does this only happen to me" these lyrics must have been a moment of wanting to be recognized and not wanting to be recognized for you, right?

Seungmin: Everyone has those. Words that are hard to say out loud, feelings that are kept inside, stories that only I know. At that time, I honestly put my thoughts and feelings into the lyrics. I might have thought it was my own personal story and just wrote it, but I tried to muster up the courage. I wanted to tell you that I was thinking the same thing as you, and you were thinking the same thing as me, and I wanted to comfort you.

Harper's Bazaar: Are you the kind of person who thinks music is life and life is music? Or are you the kind of person who thinks there is a real life outside of the stage? If I had to guess, I would say that vocalist Seungmin is a believer.

Seungmin: I want to express my feelings about music off stage, on stage. I believe that living the everyday life I like, even if it's not necessarily music, enriches my feelings about music. I don't want to live a life that's too different from the music I do. Seungmin the singer is Seungmin the person.

#skz #kim seungmin #stray kids #jesskz #skzedit #seungmin #i did my best :salute:#vocalracha #gagwanzsource #its a really lovely little interview. he seems like such a normal guy with a good head on his shoulders #idk i just think hes quite lovely #quiet and calm and thoughtful #skzco #seungminsource #bystay #createskz

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