Tumgik
ymechi · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
what a kind and reliable group
4K notes · View notes
ymechi · 2 days
Text
Saw this on IG, this is canon, it was true,i was the ring.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
235 notes · View notes
ymechi · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
like father like son 🧒 / Peruere 🐰 vs. Pers 🐧
1K notes · View notes
ymechi · 2 days
Text
Nesting(Art)
Did you know that mama rabbit pluck her fur off for her nest?
-------
Tumblr media Tumblr media
.
.
Tumblr media
________
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
ymechi · 2 days
Text
Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Tyevat, but not Humanity
Playing around with the idea of The creator of Teyvat, not being the creator of humanity.
Part 1
~~~
You were never much of a gamer.
Not that you disliked games of course, but it never quite clicked with you the way it did others. You’d try a couple of games on and off, but there would always be a point where it’d become boring.
Not that there was anything bad about the games themselves, you freely complimented the design and effort it goes into making these masterful pieces of art and code.
You just, weren't a gamer.
Until Genshin Impact
You can still remember the day you heard of it.
You were chatting with friends and one of them brought up this new game they saw a promotion for that they were interested in trying.
It was this anime-esque gacha game.
They showed you a couple trailers and promotional materials, and you must admit they were quite appealing.
However you didn’t intend to try it, knowing that you’d eventually drop it and move on.
But your friend still pestered you, claiming that there’s no harm in trying and dropping another game, after all it’s free anyways, so you’re not losing out on anything monetary.
Skeptical, you joined them in trying out the game.
And
Well
Let’s just say your friend got more than a couple of “I told you so’s” that day
It was beautiful.
The art, the music, the characters.
Everything about this game just, clicked.
You understand why people got so obsessed with certain games.
Why they would be willing to pay for things such as this.
Why this is such a large industry.
It’s, well it’s fun.
It was honestly quite frightening how quickly the game pulled you in.
You never understood the term “completionist”, until it started to apply to you.
Every quest, every domain, every achievement
You did it all
Every dialogue, every story, every entry in the archive.
You read it all.
You scoured the forums for bits of lore, and shrieked with your friend every time something new was dropped.
Genshin was all consuming.
It was honestly quite concerning, if it weren’t for the fact it was time gated with its resin cap and limited content, your outside life probably would’ve suffered.
On some level you probably knew that this was not normal. Your friends who were all gamers as well were never as obsessed over a single game as you were over Genshin.
But you reassured yourself, this is the first game that made me feel this way, its natural for me to go a little overboard.
I’m sure it’ll die down as I try out other games.
But you never really did.
No other game, no matter how popular or similar or highly rated.
Other games from Hoyoverse fared slightly better in terms of attention span.
But you always went back to Genshin.
Not that it bothered you.
Genshin was enough, considering you still had real world responsibilities to balance.
And that was that.
Until, well.
Until Fontaine.
You see, you’d always enjoyed the characters of Teyvat.
But you’ve never quite simped after them the way the fanbase did.
You admired their aesthetics and enjoyed their stories. But they never quite drew you in.
Even your main, was quite honestly determined by meta and whatever character you’ve managed to get your hands on.
There was never a “waifu” or “husbando”.
It was always the world and story that drew you in rather than individual characters.
Iudex Neuvillette was an exception.
The exception
He felt right.
You immediately knew you had to pull for him.
So you did.
And playing him was amazing. He was as meta breaking as you’d hoped and, well, you just liked him.
“Your first official Husbando” your friends would tease. You understand why they would go such lengths for a specific character now.
He was special.
He was a Dragon.
He felt, right.
You quite never understood why
Not until you entered the world of Teyvat.
That story,
Well,
That begins from the other side of the screen.
~~~
“I bet we can definitely open up a whole new sector in Fontaine if all goes well don't you think?” Hu Tao chattered as she and Zhongli strolled back to Liyue Harbor.
Zhongli hummed in agreement, only half paying attention to the conversation. He could tell Hu Tao noticed, since she was keeping the topic of conversation to light topics that anyone with half a mind could parse through. Only enough relevance so that he wouldn’t get lost in thought, but not so much that he had to focus on the conversation.
She was considerate like that, he knew since she had let many of his oddities slide, especially when he was still adjusting to mortal life.
Not that he was free from old habits mind you.
Zhongli doubted he would ever truly be able to blend into a crowd of mortal without some level of adept arts concealing his presence, however he was able to blend in enough so that the average nosy person was able to wave off his eccentricities a simply a facet of his personality rather than something deeper.
He cannot forget that it was thanks to people such as Hu Tao who were willing to let him in without many questions that allowed him to get to this point. Something he will be forever grateful for.
Be that as it may, it did not change the fact that some things will forever be kept secret.
His near encounter with the Hydro dragon for one.
Even from the other side of Qiaoying village where he’d made himself scarce, he could feel the amount of blessings placed upon the man.
He truly was favored by the creator.
Not that that was any surprise.
What was surprising was his own blessing.
Though much smaller, he still treasured the gift given to him by the creator of Teyvat.
Teyvat, after all, was a world of Dragons.
It was due to the advent of The Primordial One, did they lose their authority.
Not that many people knew.
Most people didn’t
The true History and creation of Teyvat was kept tightly wrapped, even the most learned scholars of the Akademiya could only infer at what truly happened, as well as the origin of humanity.
The true name of the creator was lost to time, only their title of the creator of Teyvat remaining. The mortals who lived on Teyvat daren’t give them another for fear of evoking their wrath.
They had plenty to be wrathful about.
Zhongli would only imagine his own rage, if anything similar happened to Liyue.
Imagine putting in centuries upon centuries of work only for an outsider to come in, destroy your work and reshape it for their own people. Before proceeding to have the audacity to name him as a contributor to their success and praise alongside such an usurper.
Just imagining it makes him angry.
That is why, the creator’s title is rarely evoked.
Names have power after all.
Names of gods even more so.
To evoke their name, their title, is to ask for attention.
Attention that would be safer left elsewhere.
Not that mortals knew the true reason.
The commonly accepted reasoning was that the creator of Teyvat has long turned their gaze elsewhere, satisfied with the current ruling of Teyvat, having entrusted their powers to Celestia and the Archons.
Zhongli would feel guilt at this blatant lie and rewriting of history if he could.
But he cannot, because to feel guilt would be to regret his actions and to wish something was different.
But he knew that he, along with all of humanity, Liyue Harbor, his Adepti and friends. They would not have existed, they would not have lived, has history played out justly.
The world is not just.
The world simply is.
He feared to an extent that the Hydro dragons would try to force a more cruel version of justice upon Fontaine, condemning them all as usurpers, when they had no idea, or even power over what had happened in the past.
Thankfully it seems that Focalors’s plan to integrate him into humanity worked. Stemming any sort of “justice” he may enact on humanity for the crimes of The Primordial One. In fact, he seems to have great fondness over humanity, absolving them of their sin and saving them from the prophecy that threatened Fontaine for so many centuries.
However, he knew that he was exempt from this mercy. Zhongli knew that when the time came, the Hydro dragon, or well Iudex Neuvillette would spare no effort in holding him accountable for his actions in usurping the original order of Teyvat.
Which is exactly why he avoided the man, dragon? as he did.
“-ello, earth to Zhongli, ”
Zhongli blinked, Hu Tao’s voice dragging him back to their situation at hand.
“Ah, my apologies, I seemed to have been lost in thought”
She clicked her tongue at him, “Aiyyaa, honestly Zhongli, I wonder sometimes if your age is getting to you, I was trying to get your attention for quite a while”
“Is that so,”
Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated groan.
“I was merely thinking about some old history,” he started, preparing himself to finish the history of Qiaoying village that he was telling Hu Tao on their way over.
“Oh no, there’s no need for that,” she waved off, a slight grimace on her face.
He knew how bored she was by the story the way over, so it served as a perfect distraction on the way back to stop her from questioning any further.
“Honestly a girl can only listen so much about the different varieties of teas and their subtle notes and flavoring before she has to burst yo know,” she complained.
“Well, the history of tea has a -”
“Oh look we’re almost there!” She pointed out, most likely in a desperate bid to stop him from droning on.
He was being slightly unfair to her, he knows, but it never ceases to become unassuming when people try to fake interest in a topic, only to regret it when they realize just how much there is to know about it.
Of course it can never compare to when someone has a genuine passion for the topic and wants to engage further, but those mortals are rare.
More often than not, he can use his vast knowledge as a smokescreen too, well, as Paimon would most likely put it. Bore people into leaving him alone.
He waves off Hu Tao as she bounces back home, and allows himself to take a stroll through the streets of Liyue Harbor.
The Lantern Rite was ending, another celebration successfully done under the hard work of the Qixing
He gazed around at all the sights, the lanterns, the food stalls, the beautiful atmosphere of people enjoying the celebration.
No
He could never regret what he did.
Not since it lead to peace and happiness like this.
And
If things are as he suspects.
He may never have too.
He feels it once more.
The glow of the creator's blessing.
He can feel it swirling within him as he steps through Liyue Harbor.
He wonders if they can see it as he does. Sees the beauty and resplendence of humanity.
Look, he wants to scream
They are nothing like The Primordial One
They are good, kind and beautiful.
Humans may not be your creation, they may not have originated from this world but that does not mean they do not deserve to stay.
But he doesn’t
First of all because he feels that screaming these things in the middle of a busy street may attract some weird looks.
But also out of fear, fear that any attempt to disrupt this fragile peace could lead to destruction.
Because it is fragile, it has only been a couple of years since the creator has turned their eyes to Teyvat.
Those who have been blessed have been careful in their own way not to destroy this chance that the creator has given them.
A chance to prove themselves, not only as people deserving of their attention and blessing, but as a people.
To prove themselves just as worthy of the dragons of staying in Teyvat.
Because they all know, in their hearts of hearts, that what the creator has created, they could just as easily destroy.
While some may tease him for his age, there is no denying that with age comes experiences that the younger generation may never know.
He himself, whilst having been born long after the disappearance of the creator, witnessed firsthand how it had affected the world.
How Godly remains tainted the earth for far longer than it used to.
How miasma and abyssal energy started to leak forth.
How Leyline disorders became more and more commonplace.
Teyvat was breaking.
It was falling apart.
But perhaps.
With this new chance, it could be fixed.
He could still remember the day the creator first turned their gaze upon Teyvat.
Or well, more specifically, the first time they turned their gaze on him.
He had heard rumors of an outlander from Mondstatdt making their way to Liyue. Tales of their feats and defeating Dvalin with the wayward Anemo Archon were as prevalent as talks about the upcoming Rite of Descension.
He had taken note of it of course, outlanders were rare after all, but he hadn’t expected this one to be quite, consequential.
Not until he met them.
He felt their approach funnily enough, the unbranded aura they carried within them. While he could’ve written it off as an aspect of their outlander status, internally he knew it not to be true.
He was far too young to have ever met the creator, or even the original dragons.
But he has stumbled upon their remnants.
Pure remnants, unlike the gnosis which have been twisted and altered by the time it had spent in the hands of The Primordial One.
It was, indescribable.
Free, yet grounded.
Unwavering yet fluid.
Swift yet languid.
It
It simply was
It was the essence of Teyvat.
The essence of the land he lived and fought and bled and laughed in.
How could he not worship it.
How could he not fear it.
He had felt Childe walk in with bated breath, distracting himself with his cup of tea to settle his nerves.
What did this mean?
Was this the end of Liyue, of humanity, of Teyvat?
Over the centuries people have accepted the creator’s complacency in the affairs of Teyvat.
What does it now mean that they have focused their gaze once more on this land.
Destruction
Salvation
He daren’t hope or guess.
But
Well,
The Traveler was kind.
They had no ill will towards the people of Teyvat.
While it was clear they had their own mission to stove for, they did not hesitate in helping those they can along the way.
If the creator has blessed one such as them, one so kind to humans, one with no ill will.
Perhaps.
A seed of hope planted itself in him, and refused to budge.
As time went on, the seed grew.
Hope grew.
The tiny seed of hope that he tried so hard to ignore and deny could be ignored no longer when he received a blessing himself.
He could still remember it so clearly.
It was a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. He went to work, had tea, chatted with passersby.
There were no great feats.
No great revelations, or offerings.
Yet he felt it for the first time.
A blessing.
A pure, gentle, powerful blessing.
He could feel the sentiment behind it, weak as it was.
Relief, excitement, apprehension.
He wanted to cry, to pray. To thank them for giving him a chance, for giving the people of Teyvat a chance.
But fear held him back.
It still does to this day.
That’s the problem with gods, their pleasure and their wrath can often look the same.
Even as he compared notes with Barbatos and the Adepti, confirming that many of them have been given blessings.
While some like Ganyu, rejoiced in this blessing eager for a chance to prove themselves worthy of this world.
People such as him were still fearful.
Fearful of what this meant and what they wanted.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when he realized that xiangling was also blessed.
Not that the girl knew, after all the creator was very rarely spoken of, only ever mentioned in ancient rites and the most descriptive of history books.
But she had the blessing, a human.
From that point he saw so many others, so many humans, mere mortals given their divine blessing and gaze.
An exorcist, an author, a member of the Qixing.
It spread across Teyvat, whispers as people soon realized that there was a god, an unknown god blessing them.
Granting them abilities beyond their visions, oftentimes enhancing them to levels beyond previously known human limits.
No one dared to say their name, they were insinuations, and speculations, but no one dared disturbed the fragile peace that has settled.
It is an understanding between those who have it.
Those who know, know and those who don’t are kept in the dark.
But it seems that the Creator has turned their gaze to Teyvat and to humans.
~~~~
Tell me what you guys think!
114 notes · View notes
ymechi · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
283 notes · View notes
ymechi · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
guys today's paper just dropped and i think i know these guys
References -> [x] [x] [x]
757 notes · View notes
ymechi · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media
abstract and modern art haters are sooo snobby like klein literally Created an entirely new pigment and then painted a canvas in a way where the brush strokes wouldn't be visible. the insinuation that people with no skill could reproduce that is so annoying because unless you are skilled at color mixing and painting you definitely couldn’t lmao
142K notes · View notes
ymechi · 7 days
Note
Your sagau zhongli is my fave! Devotion is soooo good he's so good!! If he were offered a reward, what would he ask for? He definitely deserves good things for being such a dedicated worshipper
word count. 1.6k
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. hi guys......... sorry i took so long to write this, and im so happy you like my characterization of him!!!! it means so much to me!!!
Tumblr media
Your praise.
Zhongli has rarely ever wanted. 
When he was young, still arrogant and born of war, Zhongli didn't want— he took. He had no need of envy or desire. What he could not have, he would get in time. Immortality comes with an infinite patience. 
If he was still that god, flippant and self-important, maybe he would demand some sort of compensation. Some sort of recompense for past agony.
For as long as Zhongli's lived, he has never wanted; not in the way a mortal yearns for their lover, or the way a dog longs for its owner until it whines. Never in any way that mattered, never before he met you.
Zhongli has had eons to become used to the loneliness that so often encompasses him. And now, knowing that you breathe the same air as him, he's become rather acquainted with the ever consuming desire to nestle close to you, like ink caressing every pore of canvas. 
His desire runs through him— barking and loud, rapid and frantic— but when faced with you, a whisper, whimpering in the dark crevices of his ribs. At times, he comes close to asking you to hold him, but decorum and propriety keep him in place, tight and tense.
Liyue was built knowing your gaze followed him. Its foundations set, earth molded, and its rivers bent, hoping they would be fit to your liking. His every breath spent chasing after your favor, desiring to be remade in your image, to be exactly what you want him to be. Afraid that, when finally met with you, you will not like what you see.
Zhongli has rarely ever wanted, and rarer still, has he ever feared.
It's a mortal's fear. The fear of their lord displeased with their harvest. A boyish fear, made up of desperation and the fear of disapproval; one he shouldn't feel, one he should feel no familiarity with. One he suspects many have felt when within his own presence.
When you ask him what he would like in return for all of his efforts— a reward, you say— Zhongli feels his breath seized from him.
Zhongli lived much of his early life against you. At every opportunity, he rebelled at what he thought was a cruel god. Imperious and charged with Guizhong’s death, he would have demanded answers. 
For him to have lived while those he cared for perished without a moment's repose, for him to have survived every moment of cruel war when each breath was like a whip against his lungs— he deserved to know, if you were as real as Guizhong so staunchly believed, why he had lived in her place.
Yet, despite centuries of tempered rage, Zhongli has become content to live as nothing more than your servant. 
He tells you he wants for nothing. That all he desires now is the simplicity of being beside you; the escape of your laughter, where there's no need to concern himself with anything other than you. He tells you he only wishes to know how to take care of you better, how to align himself with your tastes and desires.
"I insist," you say, and Zhongli realizes it's a command. His mouth turns dry, and every word settles on his tongue like heavy weights, dead and still.
You stare, and his breath hitches, his heart a swell in his chest. Zhongli thinks of every answer, how your reaction to any could either breathe life into him, or leave him broken. How, for a moment, he amuses himself with the idea of asking for your touch— the cusp of your palm on his cheek, your fingers against his spine; how he could ask, and how you might favor him enough to do so. 
He then thinks of asking you for reassurance. For affirmation of forgiveness for the actions in his youth. To finally have the certainty that he hasn’t failed you, and maybe, the confirmation that you may care for him.
“Forgive me for my impropriety, Your Grace,” Zhongli begins, voice light and breathy. His hand rests on his chest, fighting the urge to dig into his skin, hoping to calm the pounding of his heart. “But… if I may, I was wondering if I had done right by you?”
You sit inertly in silence for a moment, and Zhongli wonders if it’s on purpose, some sort of punishment for daring to ask such a thing. You had no reason to reward him, and he had been blessed enough to hold your attention for longer than a moment. He had no right to ask for your thoughts, not so directly.
He thought he knew that. It was why he followed you, why he made sure your every request was completed to the highest standard. If you mentioned the taste of your tea being too bitter, or sweet, or that you’d rather he prepare something else for you entirely, he would rush to follow your word. Even if he had been the one to brew it, even if it was him who cultivated the leaves, even if he thought it would be to your liking.
All he needed was to be helpful. All he needed was you. Within you, was his salvation— within you, was love itself. Without you, the once great Lord of Geo was but a fragmented elemental wisp of energy, only ever calling your name.
A spike of adrenaline rushes through him, fear and anxiety denying any sense of hope. All he hears is the solitary sound of his heart in his ears. 
“You have only ever done good by me.”
Zhongli’s heart lurches, heat rippling through his body. You say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and his mind feels dizzy at the implication. The ground sways, and his feet feel light. 
“You deserve more than that, I think.” You step forward, and Zhongli is so lost within his own thoughts, he takes no notice of your sudden increase in proximity— but his breath still quickens, and red still coats the apples of his cheeks. 
“Kneel,” you whisper, and though you say it so softly, it's as though the sky had been torn asunder with the speed he responds. Zhongli’s mind still feels far away, but he hears your orders as if spoken directly into his ear.
He drops to his knees, no care for whether he does so elegantly enough. All he can focus on is the weight of your gaze, and the way he's the only thing under it.
“Do you want me to praise you?” You trace his jawline with your finger, still speaking in a soft, unhurried tone. “Do you want me to tell you how much of a good boy you are?”
Zhongli inhales sharply, fighting every thought that screams at him to eagerly lean into your hand. He stares up at you, russet lashes fluttering and amber eyes swallowed by adoration and worship. 
“Yes, Your Grace,” he whispers hoarsely. 
Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, and a whine rises to the back of his throat. 
“My good boy.” Zhongli’s entire body shudders, his chest heaving. A shaky breath escapes him. “You've been waiting to hear that for so long, haven't you?”
He whimpers, then nods in a way he hopes doesn’t come across as overeager— quickly bereft of any sense of propriety, or care for whether or not he’s making a fool of himself. All he can concern himself with is how close you are, how easily your scent renders him still, how quickly he borders on senseless. 
You smile at that, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from whimpering. 
“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Your fingers move across his neck, brushing against his Adam’s Apple, watching it bob as he gulps, trying to keep himself steady and not fall against you. “How you're my favorite?”
An ugly sound rips from Zhongli’s throat, and it's one he's instantly ashamed of. Every part of him feels bare in front of you, laid out messy and without decorum. The mask he’s worn for eons steadily breaks, and every one of his veins and bones scream out for your warmth. 
The Lord of Geo wouldn’t have ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable. He never would have amused himself with the thought of pleading for anything, or kneeling and falling apart because he was treated softly— least of all, of being so desperate to know that you love him; that you favor him. 
Zhongli, now without his Gnosis, is as mortal as the men he used to lord over. And perhaps it’s his newfound mortality that moves him to lean into your hand, frantically trying to meld your fingers against his skin until his flesh is like clay inlaid with your fingertips; hoping that you’ll rebuild him until he fits your desires, and tell him again that he’s proven to have done good by you. 
Every thought is a prayer, another hymn, another psalm.
“Am I? Your favorite?” 
His voice trembles, and breathes into a soft whisper. Zhongli doesn’t mean to sound so desperate— he doesn’t mean to be so greedy— but his soul has never felt so full before. His mind is so mired by your touch and voice that he doesn’t realize his lack of formality, or how he might come across as arrogant. 
He wants only to think of you, and so he does. Nothing else matters.
“Yes.” You chuckle, and his heart speeds up at the sound, fervent. “Why would I want anyone else?”
Zhongli whines, and faintly, through the blur of fanaticism and worship, thinks that no matter what you asked of him, he would do it without hesitation. 
829 notes · View notes
ymechi · 8 days
Text
haven
❛ !¡ pairing; neuvillette x gender neutral!reader.
❛ !¡ summary; through the hazy reminiscence of all that has been lost, the delicate affection consoled by the croon of the deceased one reappears, and it comes back like the billows swaying with the marine creatures.
❛ !¡ warnings; sagau, idk the genre tbh it’s sad but also cute at the end ?, not impostor!sagau but reader is not worldwide known as the creator.
❛ !¡ a/n; he smells like vanilla mixed with sea water, trust i’m hoyoverse.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He saw the coming and departing of many people. Immortal ones, who’s legacy has been lost with the time and that shall never come back. Mortal ones, who’s name has been passed down by their descendants, but the meaning has been lost through the myriad of different tales uttered in hopes of honoring them. Amongst them, he lost some people dear to his heart.
Many he does not even remember the color of their eyes, a laughter that he will never hear again, and that will be lost when the time will come to let them go of his mind. Some others have left a more prominent mark on his heart. His sorrows embraced by the waters themselves, and anyone that would dwell too deep would see just how much his only wish is to have one last word. For one, he never got to say goodbye, as she never really knew herself she would have done what has been done. She simply wished to appease the hearts. And for him, a companion that had stood by his and her side, a companion whose last question echo in his mind. He never really got an answer himself.
And with those, he can still feel the soft brushing of his hair. A hand soft and rough at the same time, laced with scars from the countless cuts that have been done to the world they had created, embedding it with love only to be destroyed little by little. He should have seen it coming — their departure, that is what he is talking about, — he should have prevented it. But how ?
How ? How could he have done such a thing when at the mere mention of their children dying at each other’s weapons, they shed tears. Painting those cheeks that tasted like summer with the pain of a parent. They were never really mad at anyone and anything, they had just lost the understanding and knowledge of what could be done by those they had created. They were a bit too candid on that field, believing that the golden age would remain as long as the grass was green, as long as the rivers were blue. It was all a lie, because even the gods of this world painted this beautiful dream with the red of their own veins.
And he was there. He cannot remember it all, if anything, the fact he is aware of the existence of such a moment is like having found a needle in a haystack. Because it is his past life that drowned in such warmth, not him. But he can still feel those moments, when the world hasn’t hurt them yet, when they were still his.
He found his own hair a nuisance at times, and every complaint on his end was shushed with a fugitive kiss that felt like the blooming of a flower in the heat of the spring. They would beckon him closer, and he would indulge this small trivial matter. A Sovereign and his Creator, basking in the golden hues of the dawn with the scent of rosemary and the fleeting protection of an everlasting love, like a flame that would never be extinguished. Even if a storm would have come, he knew back then that they would hold his hand and drown his worries in the deepest abyss he couldn’t even imagine.
And then, he would always feel it. Nails scratching his scalp with the tenderness of the moon kissing the sun. Those moments were as rare as an eclipse, they had duties and he did too, and when they found the time to love each other like they should, the next day would start, and with the fluttering of an eyelash, they would be gone with only a flower left for him to kiss. And they would come back when it wilted to love him a bit more, only to disappear another time, leaving him to love them a bit more as he waited. But, it was never the time to think of when they would leave, he preferred humming alongside them with the delusion that they would never abandon him.
He would always grumble when they teasingly stopped, letting him to plead for a bit more. And their arms would wrap around his neck, and he would grab their waist as he let his lips against this skin as soft and delicate as the clouds to convince them to show him again how much he meant in their eyes. And then, he would vibrate with sheer excitement and happiness at the pristine sound of their laughter. Like a siren trying to lure the captain in. Gladly, let him perish if he gets to hear that one more time.
During the days when they were a bit more weak, trembling hands attempting to braid his hair. They never admitted any weakness, but he could feel it all around him, and he could see it all around him. The birds were as quiet as a fish, as if daring to make them flared with a song too morose to make the atmosphere romancing enough. And when they would stop, to hug him and grab his hand tight, he knew that this crack on their skin was not an illusion. He had seen it in other immortal ones before they passed away, and he knew that it was hurting them. Even the almighty lacks the strength to duel the erosion. There was no point in fighting a lost fight.
Their last time, he knew it. He had guessed it was the last. Their eyes could not match the sun anymore, and it felt like the misery of the world was falling over him in an instant. Perhaps, he was the losing one from the start as he carried them all around Fontaine with the hopeless delusion that they would hold him a bit tighter, just this time. Strangle him to death, if they wish, he would indulge in any kind of destruction of himself if it meant they would remain in this world. Because Teyvat isn’t without the one that made it be. He isn’t without the one that loved him.
When they tightened their embrace, he felt no joy swirling in his heart. And his steps stopped dead as if he had become a tree whose roots were clinging to the ground deep below. It started raining. He never really felt the drops all over his skin and clothes, but he knows it by the last words they ever said to him.
“Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.”
That day, a part of him died too. They were freezing when he carried them to the streams, wishing that at least they could depart somewhere only the two of them knew. In his own fantasies, they were sleeping just a bit more deeply than usual, and he abandoned his jacket by their side to warm them up a bit. The last flowers they had given him were fully dead now, and it was his turn to have them some flowers. That way, they will know he loved them with all he had.
“Monsieur, is it all alright with you ?” His eyes met those of a small Melusine, standing proudly in front of him in her little uniform. He nodded and she knew he was lying, he only walked away after caressing her head, and she was left staring at the soaked scenery outside of the windows of his office. If only she knew how to console him, she had tried it all and he never gave any good answer. All that calmed him was playing with his hair in a certain way. Her and her sisters had to play with his hair, scratching his scalp, then stop to have him teasingly tickle them to continue. It was specific, perhaps he had gotten this habit from somebody else ?
His steps brought him to the shore, watching in the distance a scenery impregnated in his mind for a bit too long. He watched the waves come and go here for about the entirety of his existence, and the little marine creatures living there were no strangers to his company. They knew how well he enjoyed watching them give him some small shells that he would give back like a small funny game.
But this is when he heard it, the faint sound of shoes hitting against the sand a bit far away from everyone and everything. His instincts made him follow the noise like it was pulling him in, and he saw in the distance a figure basking in all the glory of the rain coming from above. They did not seem to mind it and were collecting some things on the beach like a child being given the authorization to do so by their parents a bit too used to this love of the water and all that came with it.
And he stopped a few feet away from this stranger, their eyes met his, and he could recognize the sorrows and happiness and pain and love he knew all those years ago. And he could have sworn that he was not in a dream. He wished that he was not in a dream, that this was a reality that was his and that he had found the one that he had lost, the one that had been his, the one that was his and that would remain as such for some more years. And with no sound, they smiled up at him, and the sun basked them in all the glory that was theirs.
Is this the meaning of coming back home after the storm ?
Tumblr media
TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness
143 notes · View notes
ymechi · 14 days
Text
hot artists don't gatekeep
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
181K notes · View notes
ymechi · 14 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
”Oh I’m not leaving”
(siblings)
17K notes · View notes
ymechi · 14 days
Text
renewed
summary: many things have changed in aether's life since he met you...
word count: 2.7k
-> warnings: n/a
-> gn reader (you/yours) + aether as traveller!
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk
< masterlist >
Tumblr media
aether isn’t quite human. at least not entirely, not anymore.
it could be argued that even prior to coming to teyvat, he and his sister weren’t entirely human. they were nearly always stronger than the native life wherever they traveled, never lingering long enough for an accurate portrait to be drawn. between their glittering wings and the razor sharp swords at their hips, it could be easily argued that from the perspective of the people they visited they could be called angels.
a few wrote legends about them. the gilded warriors with shimmering swords that blinded as they slashed, so in step with each other that it was as if they were one being. the saviors, the adventurers, the peaceful giants, twin faces atop four wings apiece. lumine always managed to sneak away a copy of these legends, and they privately laughed over the artwork at their camp that night.
“we don’t look that intimidating, do we?”
“i’m fairly certain-… hang on, is that a tail?”
“that’s supposed to my hair, i think.”
“no no, look. it connects lower, here.”
“…by the stars-”
they didn’t see themselves that way, though. they were simply twins, defined by the other in every sense. never apart for long, always stood side by side, trading swords before a dangerous fight as a promise to return them.
‘draw me with courage.’
‘wield me with valor.’
lumine and aether and aether and lumine. they never fussed about the order, so long as they were together. call them whatever you’d like, insults or praise or a simple, tired request to leave, as long as it was both of them. they were all they had left. the other half of their life. to try and pry apart the seam would only result in bleeding hearts, limbs tangling together to at least die by the other’s side. even ‘twin’ was too simple a word to fit the entirety of their lives into. ‘twin’ implied a degree of separation, an impossible gap between them where wind would blow and the world would dig into, pushing them away like waves in a boat’s wake. ‘twin’ was too shallow a word, to bitter, too small to encompass everything they felt.
such fervent devotion could never be considered ‘human,’ for no human would ever live long enough to know the fear that came with knowing everything that swelled would eventually fall. no human would clutch so desperately to the twin pillars in their life—would ever consider basing their world upon two things. they’d call it foolish, even, for what would you do if one collapsed?
aether never liked that question. he didn’t like it when he and lumine first heard it, he didn’t like it when he and lumine heard it a second time, he didn’t like it anytime he and lumine heard it after that. he didn’t like it now, her sword slipping from his hands as he reached, his fingers barely brushing hers.
the unknown god laughed, and he barely had time to feel rage before the world closed in on him and his memory faded away.
aether and lumine. lumine and aether. she was always insistent upon his safety, but just this once he wished she wasn’t. living in whatever stasis she was in within that cube would certainly hurt less than this, bile rising in his throat at his failure.
somewhere in his mind, he knew that it logically wasn’t his fault. he remembered the layer of warmth that had surrounded him mid-battle, saw the reflection of understanding in lumine’s eyes. it wasn’t technically his fault, he didn’t ask to be saved, ignoring that it was his own actions that led to his god’s blessing. perhaps if he wasn’t so strict about the time of his prayer he wouldn’t have to be alone on this beach, though there was no way to find out. the sand stretched on either side, and though it wasn’t infinite, he had not left the immediate area around where he’d first woken up. to move was to move on, to leave, to accept that his world had shattered into a thousand little fragments and to give up on picking them off the floor. he couldn’t leave. to leave was to surrender to this new fate. to leave was to forget about his sister, to forget about his self, to forget about the half of his life he never imagined he could lose.
family and faith. to lose his gods favor was a threat he could live with, as there would only be himself to blame. but his sister?
if he hadn’t fished up paimon, he’s not certain he would have eaten the fish that came up instead.
she was bright, bubbly, at least after coughing up an impossible amount of seawater. she thanked him profusely while wringing out her hair, insisting on helping him in return because “it’s only fair!” as if he wasn’t three times her weight (save her magic) and and ten times as strong.
and he let her. he’s not sure why, but he did. he watched her fumble to catch crabs, ending up covered in sand, and managed a weak smile. it was for her, he told himself, spearing three with a sword that wasn’t his, helping her arrange driftwood into a measly campfire. he hardly felt hungry despite being on the beach for what had to be a few months in local time, but she was so insistent that he have some.. it was for her benefit. he just had to get her somewhere safe, then… then…
“so, where are you from?”
aether looked up from his barely-touched meal, meeting her eyes. they were so wide and earnest, too trusting for someone that just met him.
not that he had any ill intentions. no, lumine would always joke that the day he was willingly rude to another would be the day the sky turned red—something that had been the case on one of the planets they’d visited, much to her delight.
aether turned back to the fire, pushing aside the memory. “another planet.” his voice was hoarse and his throat scratched with salt from attempting to drink the seawater earlier, which was not as potable as he’d hoped. “i flew here with my sister.”
“you have a sister?” paimon looked around, though they both knew she wouldn’t find anything. “where is she?”
aether swallowed salt and bile, taking another bite of his crab just to stall. “how about we talk in the morning?”
she let the topic drop.
he didn’t sleep that night, lending her his scarf as a pillow and keeping watch. she didn’t wake when the moon erased the shadows in the sand, or when the sun first crested the sea, or when the sky fully lightened to a pale blue, birdsong filling the air. one of the remnants from the fire found its way into his hand, reaching out to gently shake her awake. her eyes were heavy and she covered her mouth as she yawned, aether looking away before his own could water.
he drew nothing in the sand as she asked her questions—who are you, where’d you come from, who are you missing, what happened to her, why didn’t you do anything?—sketching out mountains and seas he wiped away as soon as they took form. he spoke for much longer than he meant to, his words pulled out as if they were tied to some invisible string.
when was the last time he was alone for this long?
paimon listened intently, brows drawn and frowning deeply, watching as he carved twin—twin, separated by time and space—stars into the sand. “so… what you’re trying to say is that you fell here… from another world? but when you wanted to leave, to go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”
wow, he wanted to snark, i didn’t know there was an echo out here! but the chance never came. magic gripped him by the throat and his eyes went wide in panic, his mouth shaping words he didn’t choose to say by force. he didn’t want to say what someone else told him to. he didn’t know what was going on. he was being pulled at some ghost’s whims, walking stiffly across the sand. it did not skid from beneath his feet, nor pull his balance one way or another. it was solid as stone, leading him up the beach without warning, without knowledge of why or when it would stop.
when was the last time he was this helpless?
(lumine.)
he stumbled across the shore on uncoordinated limbs, fighting fruitlessly. ahead, slime bubbled up from where the sand met the sea, but the ghost did not stop. mist coagulated into a pale blue blob with hazy spots for eyes, and only then was he allowed to stop. paimon yelped and ducked behind him, a familiar weight sinking into his hand. the slime had barely the chance to turn and see him, jerking up as if surprised, when his arm slashed forward.
a sword. not his sword, not lumine’s sword, but a sword, pulled from nowhere, the dull blade hacking at the blob of its own will until the sludge dispersed and sunk back into the sand. a soft mist lingered above the sand, but he was pulled forward without care or remorse. he didn’t even know if it would have hurt him.
weight hit him between the shoulders, cold spreading over his skin and absorbing into his skin. energy buzzed beside his ear, his earring humming with neither outlet nor conduit. were he anyone else, he would have been afraid, but he recognized the buzz. all at once, he understood. all at once, the weak puppetry was vindicated, his muscles relaxing and letting it happen. your energy sank into him, and he let himself stop worrying.
if you were here, he’d be okay. if you were here, you could fix this.
if you were here, he could find his sister, and everything would be okay again.
Tumblr media
aether was not human. not entirely, not anymore, and he knew the people of mondstat could tell. you had stayed to guide his body for a week, alternating between helping the knights with dvalin and exploring the plains of mondstat. he was weak and your grip was frail, his attacks uncoordinated and clumsy, but you were there. you understood. the cavalry captain gave him a long stare as they exited his domain, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swirling in his one eye.
when you finally left, you did so in the middle of mondstat square. a physical weight lifted from his shoulders, the anemo he’d absorbed turning from calm and controlled to pushing at the edges of his form, trying to make him give. the anemo archon approached, soothing the wind with a wave of his hand, pulling him along for a drink and a chat. his knees did not want to bend without your command, his mind fraying a bit from continued exposure.
“how interesting, that you’re still standing after a week without rest,” the bartender remarked, the glass in his hands obviously an excuse to keep them above the bar. “what’s your name, outlander?”
he did not think of his own name. no, when he went to answer, he thought of the name you had given him, the one you whispered as you sheltered him from the unknown god’s wrath. it was not his, but it was yours, and wasn’t that what he was asking for?
it took too long for him to answer. red eyes narrowed but eventually chalked it up to exhaustion, giving him directions he couldn’t hear. the captain led him to a room in the back, but he didn’t sleep that night, sitting at the window and searching for the thin sliver of stars.
he didn’t need to eat anymore. he could, certainly, and it tasted fine enough, but he didn’t exactly need to. he’d thought it odd, at first, that barbatos was healed strictly by the wind, but he understood now. he spent his free time sitting under vanessa’s tree, half-asleep as he waited for your return.
you were his source of energy, of will. you knew answers to problems he’d have given up on, and if you didn’t then you tried and tried and tried again until you got it right. you were the power that purified dvalin’s tears, you swept the wind to fix the holy lyre, you cleared the seals around decarabian’s tower. he was a medium, and he was happy with that. your presence waxed and waned, the lapses without you seeming to pass by in a blink.
a few of the knights worried for him, but he knew your vessels understood. none held as much of your power as him, none were as reliant on you, but they understood. they excused his oddities with a kind smile, paimon always at his side to make sure he didn’t waste away the day simply sitting in one spot. prior to coming to teyvat, the concept of elemental sight was something he was only vaguely familiar with. a few planets had some talented witches that could feel the flow of energy through the ground and grass, who could watch the mist in the air and predict the weather. he’d never experienced it himself before. now, the world lit up as his eyes took on a teal sheen, your power mixing with the anemo within him to grant him insight. the world was so vibrant, even the most mundane sights capturing his attention. how could he not stare? if he had it his way he’d always view your creations like this.. but whenever paimon snapped him out of it he’d come out of it with a headache, not to mention his staring tended to be off-putting to those around.
a lot of his new behaviors were. when within your control, he moved stiffly, with repetitive motions forecast well in advance. you chose what he said, when and how he moved, you controlled the very flow of elements through his body. it was harder and harder to think for himself without you there and though paimon handled most of the conversation, there was only so much she could say.
“who are you looking for?” lumine. his sister. himself. the knowledge was there but his throat was closed, unwilling to move without your order.
“thank you for your help.” you’re welcome. don’t worry about it. it was nothing. all he could manage was a stiff nod, eyes flicking to the sky, counting the days until your return. he’d gotten a good grasp of your routine by now.
“who are you?” yours. a traveller. lumine’s. he could not blame those they ran across for their suspicion, even though he wanted to. could they not feel the remains of your presence lingering around him?
they had to go to the rite of decension soon. liyue was holding off, though, waiting for your arrival. they’d never dare to make you miss it, so aether felt no hurry to leave. he laid in the middle of windrise, staring up at the stars. he used to sit atop the knights’ headquarters, but it took too long for the lights of the city to turn out and he liked picking out the various constellations.
his was up there, somewhere. he didn’t have a vision like your other vessels, but he could feel it. it was written right beside your decision to save him and not lumine, alongside your actions in mondstat and everything you’d do in liyue. fate, you’d called it, well-acquainted and intertwined.
aether fell asleep on wet grass among cold wind. he did not get sick, nor was he attacked or otherwise hurt. why would he have been, anyway? your blood was in his veins; he had nothing at all to fear.
230 notes · View notes
ymechi · 15 days
Note
we missed you, welcome back!
i had a thought for a few days now and then i saw that you were back and i just had to share this
so imagine that you wake up in teyvat one day and you speak a different language bc they probably don’t speak english in teyvat, and no one understands you, but then there’s the smart haravatat ppl like alhaitham and faruzan (idk if there is anyone else) who use their smart language brains to figure out how to talk to you, i think that would be super cute
.💭
BRAINROT ANON— my comrade on tumblr, i missed you too!! i'm so honored that you thought of me aww :') you knew i'd be glad to brainrot with you anytime!! /gen. i focused less on how they communicate with you, but rather more on the events surrounding this concept. hope ya don't mind! so good to see you again <3
extra note: this was written from a platonic pov! yk those movies where a protagonist helps out their 'otherworldly' companion to go back to their home world? yeah, that's what i'm going for here. movies like 'home' and 'cj7' came to mind immediately. that's us and faruzan!! oh, and alhaitham is here too, i guess. /j
-
imagine waking up one day to find yourself transported to the middle of the hypostyle desert. the sun burns, scorching hot on your skin then suddenly, it's gone? oh no, some strange turquoise lady is peering at your face with disapproval. you suspect she thinks you're a reckless traveler who forgot to bring ample supplies to a place like this. “███ ███ ████ ███?” she says and you realize you don't understand a word.
[translation: did your water storage run out?]
imagine the confusion on faruzan's face when you mumble a few sentences? noises? grumbles? she specializes in semiotics (and ruins), not speech pathology so how is she supposed to know? anyway, she graciously takes you in! and brings you back to her residence. yes, yes, how generous, applaud her later but she cannot hand you over to the akademiya just yet. (who knows what they'll do with you? you're obviously not of this world.)
imagine trying to communicate with faruzan using other means besides language. one of them includes pointing at the fresh apple slices on her kitchen counter. she gives them to you and notes how you say 'tenk yu' (?) which she takes as a sign of gratitude. of course, she also jots it down in her notes alongside her observations. how interesting.
and she manages the grand feat of roping alhaitham in, somehow someway. he's a youngster (everyone is a youngster if you're one hundred years old at this point) far too solitary for her liking — plus, notoriously hard to convince but that helps: he's someone who won't tattle! that's her logic here. she even had to invite him over for dinner and introduce him to you herself! ugh, she really had no more funds left to spare... so this better works.
it did, oddly. alhaitham's first instinct is to question and his deductions conclude that you are far too genuine (for lack of a better word) for all of this to be a ruse. the way you pointed at his fit and gave him a thumbs-up he assumed that you meant to say you thought it's “cool”.
alhaitham observes you; when you speak, none of the words sound familiar to his experienced ears and trust him, his quota of languages exceed many. he is not here to brag, so don't twist it. nor do you seem to understand anything whenever he or faruzan speaks. you don't even react in the slightest when he mentions or addresses you directly, only a tap on the shoulder works. it's safe to assume you do not know teyvatian language.
the guy in gray green turns to madam faru with a hum. she taught you to refer to her that way. it took hard work and lots of apple slices. “██... ██ ███ ████ █ ████?” he asks.
[translation: so... do you have a plan?]
“██ ███ █████!” she puffs out her chest in determination.
[translation: in due time!]
he sighs.
you blink, eternally confused.
86 notes · View notes
ymechi · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[when i woke up…] (slightly older nahida)
sometimes i think about how rukkha using her powers to protect everyone causes her to become small and vulnerable, yet she never had someone (like a familiar) there to protect and take care of her during those times… i wish nahida never has to wake up alone and confused again.
2K notes · View notes
ymechi · 21 days
Text
for all the artists out there, here are my favorite resources i use to learn!
Files
The Complete Famous Artist Course
Art Books and Resources
Art, Anatomy, and Color Books
PDF Files of Art Books
YouTube
My YouTube Playlist of Tutorials
How to Draw Facial Features
Drawing and Art Advice
Drawing Lessons
Art Fundamentals
Anatomy of the Human Body
2D Animation
Perspective Drawing
Websites
Pinterest Board for Poses
Another Pinterest Board for Poses
Reference Angle
Figurosity
Sketch Daily
Human Anatomy
Animal Photo References
Humanae - Angélica Dass
Fine Art - Jimmy Nelson
Character Design References
CDR's Twitter Account
iamagco's Twitter Account
taco1704's Twitter Account
takuya_kakikata's Twitter Account
EtheringtonBro's Twitter Account
Drawabox
Color Wheel
Color Palette Cinema
Free Images and Pictures
Free Stock Photos
FILMGRAB
Screen Musings
William Nguyen Light Reference Tool
Animation References - sakugabooru
Animation References - Bodies in Motion
16K notes · View notes
ymechi · 23 days
Text
WAIT GUYS I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING ELSE ABOUT RHINEDOTTIR!
Her children correlate to Loki’s children
A massive reptilian (Jormungandr and Durin)
A giant wolf (Fenris and the Golden Wolflord)
A horse (Sleipnir and the “one-horned white horse” from the description of Cinnabar Spindle)
And two normal, human children, one of whom kills/tries to kill his brother (Vali & Narfi and Subject Two & Albedo)
174 notes · View notes