#scaramouche x layla

[gloomykiz]

Shhhh…they’re listening to music, don’t disturb them!!!

[sadko101]

Still a WIP, but i needed to share the pookies

(bad quality upload as always, sorry)

[tineetinylily]

Some doodles since I haven't posted in awhile

[mlekom3]

Layla and scaramouche hang out, study together,layla teaches scara to cook rose custard(special dish) and scara teaches layla how to cook (his special dish).layla rambles about her astrology studies and scara listens.when layla's stressed scara cuddles with her and helps her review the material.when nahida nags scara to go socialize he usually just snucks in to layla's dorm and calls it a mission done.Scara and layla bond over not being human(I think Layla's an elf?).Scara is the little spoon and layla's the big spoon.Scara on layla's birtday gives her a bouquet of sumeru roses and to fuck with him layla eats them and scara's look is prizeless.On scara's birthday,the duo goes to the rainforest and stays on the big-ass tree's branches,stargazing.Layla could get some confidence from scara,and Scara could learn to be more chill(hehe musical refrence) with people.

[thewarinourstarwars]

A Little Bit Rusty

Pairing: Scaramouche x Layla

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Summary: Layla meets the resident eccentric, Hat Guy for a shared night class. In spite of everything, they hit it off.

“Is this seat taken?” 

Layla turned her head to see an Inazuman youth with a rather large hat pointing to the open seat next to her at the lecture bench. 

“Oh, no, I don’t think anyone sits there.” Layla paused. She’d seen him before, where had she seen him? It had been some time ago, before her thesis update, and that project in hydromancy class, sometime around—oh, right!  

In the time it took for her to search through the syrupy swamp-waters of her sleep-deprived mind, he had taken the opportunity to sit down and pull out a stack of books and notebooks. 

“You’re Hat Guy, aren’t you?” Layla definitely recognized him now. He had a rather distinctive little silhouette, come to think of it. “We competed in the tournament a while back. You represented Vahumana.”

“You remembered. Congratulations,” he responded flatly. “Isn’t Professor Faruzan supposed to be teaching this class?”

“Yeah, but I’m guessing she’s running late.” Layla sighed. “I agreed to take this class because she’s having it count for nearly three times the linguistics credits.”

“Is that important?” Hat Guy raised an eyebrow. 

“It would clear the rest of my language requirements for graduation.” Layla looked to her little leather-bound agenda, with all of the course times blocked out and deadlines looming overhead like a dagger over her bed. “I’m here on a scholarship, but scholarships can run out. I’ve already been here for three years—I want to be done in another three.”

“And taking this class would help?” 

“Yes, I’d then be able to focus on just my Rtawahist courses.” That would be much easier. “Then maybe I would actually have the time to sleep—really sleep—and not feel tired after.”

Hat Guy blinked, looking surprised. “D-Does that happen often?”

“Oh yes, all the time.” Layla nodded. “I don’t think I’ve had a good night’s sleep since coming to the Akademiya. But who has?”

“Uh, right.” Hat Guy still looked off-guard. “You might want to get that checked out, actually.”

“I know, I know, but I don’t know where I’d pencil in meeting with a Healer.” Layla winced and looked at her agenda. 

She rarely wrote home, partially because she knew that her father would tell her the exact same thing, and it would worry her family. Her family, who had made so many sacrifices to send her here. The last thing they needed was to find out that she wasn’t taking care of herself, that she couldn’t handle it, that she wasn’t nearly the shining star they’d thought of her back in the village. 

“What about you?” She asked, desperate to change the subject. 

“What about me?” He was flipping his pen with a surprising amount of grace, considering how little attention he was truly giving it. 

“Well, why are you taking this class?” She prompted. “You’re a new student, so you still have a lot of general education requirements to go. Most of the students here aren’t that interested in Professor Farzan’s work, unless they’re from Kshahrewar.”

“Oh, that.” A strange, almost dreamlike expression passed over his face. “I heard about the Professor’s time in the desert. I heard she was trapped there for a hundred years.”

“Poor Madam Faruzan.” Layla shook her head empathetically. “Although I heard she didn’t need to sleep or eat during the time she was trapped in the tomb.”

She paused, glancing at the moonlit sky filtering in through the windows near the lecturers’ side. “I wonder if I’d finally be able to finish all of my schoolwork if I had a hundred years without food or sleep.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Hat Guy slumped back in his seat. “What, are you just procrastinating or something?”

“No, no, I try to break down my projects and start as soon as possible,” Layla explained. She then sighed and sank into her folded arms on the desk. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not good enough to be here.”

“Well, why don’t you just leave?” 

Layla peeked out from her arms. His voice was as sharp as the sword she kept for her own protection under her bed in her dorm. Yet there was something about how he wasn’t placating or reassuring her that intrigued her. 

Why don’t I leave?

“Because I’d be letting everyone down.” She thought of her parents, of her first schoolroom teacher, of the elders in her village. “So many people believed in me and made so many sacrifices for me to come here and I can’t just let them down.”

“Heh.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward. “You can’t let yourself be chained down by the weight of others’ expectations. The only way to find your destiny is to break away from the one others’ make for you and make it for yourself.”

Layla considered this for a moment. “Is that why you’re here, then? Did your family expect you to come here?”

Hat Guy laughed dryly again. “No. I’m here to pay back a debt. That’s all.”

“A debt?” Layla tilted her head. “But an education is expensive, I don’t understand how—“

Hat Guy cut her off. “Not that kind of debt. I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this, anyway.”

He leaned forward. “Still no sign of Professor Faruzan. I wonder what’s got her running late. It’s starting to look unprofessional. What a joke.”

“I thought you were only taking this class for Professor Faruzan?” Talking to the enigmatic Hat Guy was nothing like Layla would have thought. He was like a puzzle box her mother had given her for her fourth birthday, with an ever-shifting lock that was almost impossible to solve. Well, at first. After several sleepless nights, she’d managed to solve it, much to the wonder and surprise of her family. 

She wanted to solve Hat Guy like that too, she decided. 

“I am.” His indigo eyes clouded over. “I want to see how she does it.”

“Does what?”

“A long life.” There was something heavy in his words that Layla didn’t entirely understand. But it conveyed something beneath the sharp edges and apathetic attitude. 

A beating heart. 

A bleeding heart. 

Right on cue, Madam Faruzan strode through the door, carrying an arm-full of scrolls.

“Sorry everyone, one of the youngsters in Krshahrewar stopped me to ask about one of their mechanism designs and they had some examples from a new ruin they excavated near the Temple of Silence. . . “ Madam Faruzan dumped the scrolls on her desk. “Just give me a second to get settled, and then we’ll get started.”

Layla looked to Hat Guy. “Well, it was nice talking to you. I hope I get to again soon sometime.”

“You really mean that.” He sounded impressed, unnerved, and in disbelief all at the same time. “This class meets three times a week. We’ll both be sick of each other by the end of the semester.”

“Probably,” Layla agreed. “But we could also study together.”

“Yeah. Uh, sure.” He looked down to his notebook, and Layla was certain she caught a glimpse of a smile.

[lyneytricks]

I can keep a secret, can you?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

Genre ➸ Idk how to categorise this. It's like, bitter but not sad, it's. It is, I guess

Warnings ➸ "Other Layla" referred to with it/its pronouns, Scara & Layla are close, but it's not explicitly romantic. Just implied, at best. I didn't proofread this so idk. His thoughts are kinda aggressive in this

A/N ➸ Hey :P I've been gone for a while, haven't I? Pretend other Layla just knows that scara's a puppet. I think I made the whole puppet thing way more trans than intended, looking back at it. Man I hate this thing's ending

Pum toma 🖕 @burningst4rs pilla este fanfic mientras acabo el otro, que me da una vergüenza de la hostia acabar ese

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

"You haven't told her yet, have you?" It asks him. It's surprisingly calm, knowing who it comes from. It's voice is smooth, calm. It's strange to hear her voice like that. He doesn't know whether he welcomes it or finds it jarring

"Told her? What would I need to tell her? I have nothing to hide" He answers, lying through his teeth like he doesn't know how horrified she'd be if she knew what he's done. What he is.

Humming, it traces it's hand over his nape, lightly scraping the material of its 'nails' over where the electro mark he absolutely despises is. It smiles at him, taking its hands away carefully, almost as if it's trying to annoy him. Why doesn't it want to hurt me?

"This... Peculiarity of yours, she doesn't know about it, does she?"

It's voice is sweet, sweet in a way he finds mocking. It shouldn't anger him as much as it does, he tells himself. And yet, it does. It angers him because it's right in saying that. He's never told anyone about his 'true' nature, they've all found out on their own.

He's thought about telling her, though he stopped thinking about it almost as soon as he started, the thought of 'coming out' to her as scary as it is frustrating.

Why would it matter? What does that change? Will that change how she sees me, how she treats me?

It's only when he's realized he needs to answer its question that it talks again, using her scholar's determination to make his life more difficult "Hm, so I assume you'll just keep her in the dark about this, until... What? Until she finds out herself?"

He hates how easy to read he's become, so much that even something he doesn't know can see through him. Perhaps leaving the fatui, not having to conceal his every move, is what made him more vulnerable. In a way, he's more restrained, now.

That thing keeps talking endlessly, seemingly incapable of shutting up. He wants to shut it up himself, hear that thing beg for forgiveness when he wraps his hands around it's neck, he wants to feel it's fucking bones crack when he steps on it.

He wants to act on his thoughts, the thought seeming more enticing by the second. He wishes he could, when he remembers that that thing he hates so much is a part of Layla, of the one he was supposed to accompany this evening, of the one he willingly came here for.

He's stupid. He must be, to form such an attachment to someone, to a human. He hates how weak he is, how weak he is for that mortal.

But, regardless of how much he hates it, he is.

So, he bites his tongue and listens to whatever's next to him as it talks, hoping that Layla would just wake up soon. As much as he wants her to sleep, (humans are fragile, after all) he'll never be next to her while she does, if this is what happens once she succumbs to slumber

[fruitpiefantasy]

They like to be tall

No text ver ⬇

[written-with-wisteria]

[fairykazu]

what kind of dates they would bring you ft. gi chrs ୧ ‧₊˚

mlist ⋆ playlists for each character will be linked on my spotify!

a movie night - at their house. sharing a blanket together, huddled together and listening to their familiar heartbeat, because it is something that the both of you have done more times than you can count.

mona, lisa, layla & kaveh

a fair - hearing your lovers laugh will never fail to light up your entire night. holding their hand on rides, sharing strange food, and riding on a ferris wheel will always hold a special place in your memories.

kaeya, yoimiya, yelan & hu tao

an aquarium - taking many photos, seeing and learning things that you never knew before. silently watching in awe alongside your partner as the jellyfish mindlessly float behind the glass.

kokomi, scaramouche, xiao & sara

an art museum - studying the meaning behind paintings, bouncing back and forth theories, and leaving together filled with inspiration and love for humanity.

albedo, ganyu, kazuha & keqing

ice skating - falling down with your partner and showing them your vulnerability. they smile and pick you off the floor, holding you steady as they guide you on the ice.

childe, ayaka & amber

[gloomykiz]

Stars

Will fall…

[sadko101]

just posted a short chapter for my scaralayla matrix au,

WARNING: assault, its not sa and theres little detail, but it could definitely be triggering.

stuff will get scaralayla-y next chapter.

[tineetinylily]

5.1 event leaks

I just realized in the leaked event photos both Layla and Wanderer aren't in the group photo for the sabseruz festival

I'd like to think Scara just didn't want to be in the photo and Layla was helping with taking the photo, though I do kinda wish everyone was in it. But Kaveh smiling and Faruzan doing a little pose is very adorable ngl

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Aah whoops! My bad, Genshin Impact was the series I had in mind for the Halloween costumes. But if there’s another series you’d prefer or already have ideas for I’d be happy to read that instead :)

-

No no, Genshin is perfectly fine! I'll do 2 characters for each category, thanks to tag limitations... This will also be in a modern AU, if that's all right ^-^

Most complicated costumes

Scaramouche/Wanderer for sure. Most people would expect him to not even bother with something so childish, as he would probably put it. But if you tease him a bit he'd cave and design something that ends up putting every other costume to shame. He's like a peacock fanning out it's gorgeous feathers and drawing the attention of everyone around. And you had better keep your eyes on him, and only him for the rest of the night

KAVEH. My god this man is going to go all out even if he must pull multiple all-nighters to finish his design. And YES, he WILL be designing his own costume. He's also probably going to cry if people don't like it...please keep him away from the alcohol if this is the case and compliment the hell out of him. Validate this poor soul's hard work and effort, he deserves it

Laziest Costumes

Alhaitham 100%. If you think for even a second that Alhaitham is going to dress up for some holiday, you'd be very mistaken. Even if you beg him to (or force him in some way) he's going to pick the cheapest, most low effort option available. He might literally pull the sheets off of your bed and dress as a ghost...

Layla, but not by choice. She really wanted to wear something cute it's just...she kept forgetting about it and she never had the energy to pull something together... Ends up borrowing an unused pair of cat ears and drawing on whiskers with eyeliner right before showing up at a party 😿

Sluttiest Costumes

Heizou. Though if he was supposed to attend a party, he might cover up a bit until you have some alone time~ After all, his body is a special privilege for your hands only and showing himself off in front of tons of people might invite some unwanted attention. He'd probably go for something that shows off his midriff and thighs, maybe some fishnets too?

KAEYA. He's the type to wear a sexy nurse outfit or something, mainly just to tease you...with pretty thigh highs and garters accentuating his legs, his chest or maybe his back exposed. Kaeya just eats up the expressions you make when you finally see what he's wearing, flirting with you the whole night by using awful pick-up lines and puns based on the costume he chose

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

[thewarinourstarwars]

Till Eternity Passes Away (And Then, I Would Spend It With You)

Pairing: Scaramouche | Wanderer/Layla

Fandom: Genshin Impact

"Makoto knew it was going to be a bad day when he awoke from dreams of a paper ballerina and a tin soldier burning in a fire.

He gasped for air as his eyes flew open, and it took him several moments, several lung-fulls to realize that there was no smoke in the apartment. Instead, the scent of lavender hung thick in the air, due to the sachets that Layla had made back before they met, when she’d struggled with her sleep schedule and sleep-walking.

He was alive. She was alive. They were both safe at home, no sign of the Doctor or any ghosts.

He closed his eyes and let himself sink back into the plush sheets. He tightened his embrace around Layla, feeling the warmth of her soft skin, the tickle of her blue curls on his face.

She was here. She had stayed. In spite of everything."

OR

Not all who wander are lost, but sometimes the Wanderer gets lost in his own head. Luckily Layla's there to pull him out.

...

Makoto knew it was going to be a bad day when he awoke from dreams of a paper ballerina and a tin soldier burning in a fire. 

He gasped for air as his eyes flew open, and it took him several moments, several lung-fulls to realize that there was no smoke in the apartment. Instead, the scent of lavender hung thick in the air, due to the sachets that Layla had made back before they met, when she’d struggled with her sleep schedule and sleep-walking. He was alive. She was alive. They were both safe at home, no sign of the Doctor or any ghosts. 

He closed his eyes and let himself sink back into the plush sheets. He tightened his embrace around Layla, feeling the warmth of her soft skin, the tickle of her blue curls on his face. 

She was here. She had stayed. In spite of everything.

Insecurity crept in as he rested his chin on the crook of her shoulder. 

It’s only a matter of time before she leaves. Why would she stay with you?why would she love you? She doesn’t love you—better to leave before she does, before you’re betrayed again, betrayal is inevitable—

No. 

He still remembered the night he’d told her the secrets of his past. Of what he’d done, of what he truly was. She didn’t run. She didn’t pull away. She’d stayed and listened—and gods, she’d stayed.

And his chest didn’t feel hollow for it. 

As if she sensed his inner turmoil, she shifted in his arms. “Makoto? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he whispered into her hair. “Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

She turned to face him, to pull him closer. Her amber eyes were still clouded with sleep, not quite in the waking world yet. He hated to pull her from it, given how hard she’d fought to have her dreams. 

Her hand rested on his face, and he had to resist the initial urge to pull away. Because a voice in the back of his head reminded him that he didn’t deserve this, that it wouldn’t last. 

Shut the fuck up. 

“Won’t be long before my alarm goes off, you know,” Layla mumbled as he closed his eyes. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I don’t mind.” She was so earnest, so insistent. There were so many words unsaid. It was like poetry, in a way. Where the truth lay between the chosen words. 

He pulled her closer, focusing on how his fingers fit around her collarbone and the swell of her hips. They could at least enjoy the moment for a little longer. And Makoto could push away the thoughts of eternity and all that it implied. Layla was mortal, she would someday die like Hisahide and the child did. 

But it wouldn’t be for a long time yet.

After all, these moments had a way of stretching into their own small eternities. 

Was this what it meant, to be loved?

He and Hisahide had found their own eternities once upon a time. When he was a kabukimono, before he was Kunikuzushi or Scaramouche or Belial. When he didn’t have a care in the world. 

He did not love so openly now, nor was he so easily loved.

She smelled like lavender and coffee, the skin on her back was so soft, he wanted nothing more than the sensation of it all to consume his thoughts rather than the gathering storm clouds, the internal howling wings. How she was here and she stayed and she was here—

But it wasn’t long enough, when the alarm clock went off, when Layla had to get up and leave. She was the first to leave this semester every morning, and it was a reminder that she would always be the first to leave, and Makoto would be left to outstretch his arms and open his hands for someone who couldn’t come back. 

When she left, he buried himself back in the bed, his face in the pillows. Pathetic.

What was wrong with him? After all that he and Layla had gone through, to be together, he thought he’d conquered his own demons, left the shadows of his personal history behind for good. 

He thought he’d come to accept what would come with his new life.

So why was he struggling with it today? He sighed and rolled onto his back. Layla had hung a crystal light-catcher by the window that she’d bought at the market last week. It caught the early morning light and sent soft rainbows onto the ceiling. 

He couldn’t stay here. To sleep was to decay, to be forgotten, to be abandoned. Images of the pavilion flashed in his mind’s eye and he swallowed back a scream. He forced himself to his feet and went through the motions of getting dressed, getting ready for another day. 

But he couldn’t go to class, not today. 

Instead, he needed to do something, feel something. And he needed to be by himself to do it. He didn’t want her, or anyone for that matter to see him as he probably always truly was. 

Angry—pathetic—undeserving—

The closest thing he could figure for that description was to make his way out into the forest and look for leftover Fatui camps. The Doctor had long left Sumeru for good, but that didn’t mean that those under his command had. 

And there was nothing that cleared Makoto’s head more than the adrenaline of some well meted-out violence. 

...

There was a troubling thread of thoughts, an observation that nagged at the back of Layla’s mind throughout her routine of classes and research. She could tell that Makoto had been distant that morning, even if he hadn’t said much.

The fact that he lingered in bed after she woke up that morning was evidence enough. 

But she grew concerned when she didn’t see him in the hallways, or the House of Daena during her break, or in the cafes on Treasures Street for lunch, like they usually did. 

It wasn’t that she was worried that he didn’t like her anymore, even if there was a small voice in the back of her head that posed that question. 

No, she knew Makoto well enough to know that he was a cat. He came and went as he pleased, and any attempts to encroach on his space were not welcome. He showed his affection in his own ways, and that was usually enough for her. He knew how to show her the depth of what he felt.

What concerned her about all of this was that she knew Makoto well enough to know that like a cat, when he was hurting, he withdrew. He isolated himself and that only made things worse in the short term. Before, she’d been able to draw him back out. 

But he hadn’t disappeared so completely like this before. 

She’d ask Nahida, if she knew where he’d went after her last class.

...

“Makoto?” Nahida tilted her head as she considered Layla’s question. “I think he said he’d heard about some Fatui camps in the jungle up north, not too far from where your village is.”

Nahida’s expression twisted in concern. “I haven’t heard from him since this morning. I would have expected that he would have returned by now.”

Layla’s stomach lurched. “Do you think he’s alright?”

“He’s probably fine, he’s faced many enemies over his long lifespan.” Still, Nahida looked troubled. “And the Doctor will never return to Sumeru, thanks to your efforts. But I would still appreciate it if you went to check on him. I suspect he might appreciate someone coming after him, too.”

Layla caught the double-meaning at the end of Nahida’s request. “You sensed it too, right? That he wasn’t right this morning?”

“I did.” Nahida looked up at her with those wide, grass-green eyes, in stark contrast to the rest of her moonlight-pale features. “You two didn’t get into an argument this morning, did you?”

“No, we barely spoke.” Layla shook her head. “He did say he had bad dreams, though.”

“Ah.” Nahida nodded sagely, recognition glimmering in her eyes. “Healing isn’t a linear process. Sometimes when climbing a mountain, a traveler must take switchbacks and back-track in order to make it to the summit.”

Layla nodded. She supposed she was the same way. Sometimes it could be terribly Sisyphean with the matter of her self-confidence in academia. She would be so confident and feel like she had finally gotten on top of things—only for it all to cascade on top of her and overwhelm her. 

And yet, despite his infamous sharp tongue and short temper, Makoto was patient with her. His bluntness was reassuring, as she knew he was never sugar-coating when he told her that she could do it, that she was good enough. And sometimes, when he knew his words wouldn’t be the right thing, he would show up in more silent ways. Candied nuts and coffee left on her desk. Her favorite meal left in the kitchen after coming home late. Or how he’d walk with her up mountains and carrying her equipment for star-charts and night sky mapping. 

She would do the same for him, then.

“Do you know where he last went, then?” 

Nahida tilted her head, and her eyes went blank for a moment. When she came back into herself, she looked more concerned. “Yes, and he hasn’t been careful. You should go bring him home before he gets himself hurt any further.”

“I will,” Layla promised. She’d brought him home before and she’d do it again. 

...

So the fight hadn’t gone ideally. Makoto supposed that he had been. . . distracted. But he hadn’t expected to get hit while in the sky by one of the Pyro Skirmishers, or by a spell from one of the Cicin Mages. 

His right knee twinged wrong when he stepped, and there was a burn that reeked where the brief sliver over skin showed on his arm. He hadn’t felt any of it in the moment. But it was as he was hobbling back to Sumeru City, too exhausted to walk, that he was realizing exactly how much trouble he was in. 

Indeed, he needed to get into the city before nightfall. He’d hate to be out with gods-knew-what while he was in this condition. He was pretty sure nothing could kill him. But he wasn’t exactly looking for a miserable time, and Layla—

Oh, he hadn’t realized he’d hit his head that hard when he’d been knocked out of the sky. Whether it was the first or second time that had given him a concussion, he wasn’t sure. But he definitely had a concussion, because he was hallucinating and seeing—

“Makoto!” Layla shouted as she ran up to him. She stopped just short of him, leaving him to stumble into her arms. 

How he wanted to pull away, her softness and warmth was unbearable in how he wanted to touch her, to be with her, but he felt repulsive in his own skin. 

She doesn’t really want you, whispered the voice in the back of his head. No one wants you, your own mother didn’t and neither did Tatarasuna—

“I’m covered in blood, you really don’t want to touch me right now,” he managed as he forced himself to stand despite the screaming pain of his knee. 

“Is it yours?” Layla touched his shoulders anyway. 

“Some of it is.” He tried to pull out of her grip. But for a scholar who stayed inside all day, she was surprisingly strong. Or he had gotten weak. One of the two, anyway. “I’m fine, really. I can walk on my own, you know.”

“Makoto.” Layla sounded like she was sighing and chiding him all the same. 

She pulled him closer and he tensed up, because that was his last defense. He was overwhelmed with the smell of lavender and coffee, her softness, the way that her feelings hung in the air somehow tangible. He was fighting the ever-increasing urge to sink into her touch, to just let her in, but something stronger and older in his head was insisting to keep up his walls, to keep out everything that had the potential to hurt—

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” She didn’t just mean about his injuries, he realized as he wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her like a life buoy in a raging storm. 

His cheeks were wet, and he tasted salt. He could see it now, in impending clarity like a tidal wave, how he’d been hurting Layla, blinded by his own hurting. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed of it. He thought he had been past this, he thought he’d gotten further than this—but he hadn’t. And he’d lashed out again.

“It’s okay.” Layla ran a hand through his dark hair. It was as if she could somehow hear his racing thoughts, read his mind in the same way that Buer could. “I’ve got you. I’m not leaving.” 

She wouldn’t, not for a long time yet.

He wasn’t sure how long he had embraced her for, a small eternity in and of itself. Like the flash of lightning, the magnificent thunderstorm that only lasted a second, but the memory would last forever in true transcendence.

“Let’s go home,” he finally said. 

...

She’d helped bandage him up, when they got home. He tried to insist on cooking, but Layla had stubbornly refused. He needed to rest, she said. He hadn’t gotten injured all that often before, so he didn’t exactly have experience with that. The few times he had, his only option was Dottore, so naturally he’d usually chosen to soldier through and walk it off.

To have someone else care for him, it was different. . . it was nice. 

Still, he wasn’t sure what else to do with his thoughts as he sat in the living room of their apartment, a mostly-ornamental blanket wrapped around his shoulders at Layla’s insistence. He’d left various sewing supplies on the low table in front of the couch—and seeing them there reminded him of the dolls in his pocket. One had been made by the boy who died, and was of him. The other was the one he’d learned to make from a merchant in Sumeru and it resembled the boy who might have once been his family. An idea sprang into his mind like a lightning strike. He picked up the needle and thread and began to work. 

By the time Layla joined him with mugs of steaming black coffee and plates of biryani, the shape of a little soldier with a big hat and ballerina with blue curls had started to take shape. He’d carry them with him too, as a reminder that for all that would not change—for that was the way of the world—one thing had. 

Not everyone would leave him. He wasn’t unlovable, instantly rejected by all.

He was loved, and he loved Layla. And he would not leave her. 

[strxnged]

SUMERU: # when you tell them you see them as a “main character.” (4/4)

content: voiceline style responses. crack & flattery fic. slight spoilers for sumeru archon quest.

__alhaitham ㅤ “...is that supposed to be a compliment? listen, i don’t like being in the spotlight and i don’t want to be important to anyone but you. … oh, that’s what you were trying to say? i still think you’ve misapplied the term.”

__candace ㅤ “of what story? if you mean of my own… isn’t that how it works? but in general, i don’t try to stand out like that.”

__collei ㅤ “oh, um… is this because of my spontaneous recovery? tighnari says it makes me a bit of a special case, but I'm not sure it's to that extent. i—i appreciate the compliment, of course.”

__cyno ㅤ “are you trying to tell me i remind you of that one cartoon again? yu-ji-oh, or something? collecting cool cards doesn’t make me a main character, you know. but i’ll accept your compliment, if that’s what it is supposed to be.”

__dehya ㅤ “really? haha, that’s sweet of you. i don’t think mercs make for the most heroic of main characters, and i don’t think my story is all that special, but you’re real nice to say that.”

__dori ㅤ “it would suit a main character to be rich, no? i don’t think i’m quiiiiite there. perhaps you can support your idea… financially, hm?”

__faruzan ㅤ “it is only fitting for you to see me in such a way. as your senior with a past shrouded in darkness, as well as being the brightest scholar of haravatat, i cannot be compared to another in teyvat. that makes for a sufficient protagonist, doesn’t it?”

__kaveh ㅤ “i—i’m not sure what it is that you want from me. you better just ask it straightforwardly, since i’d rather not think about my existentialism first thing in the morning.”

__layla ㅤ “oh… a couple different peers of mine have also said i act like one. it doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

__nahida ㅤ “it is not the archon’s duty to be the main character in her land’s story. i only hope to allow more stories to sprout.”

__tighnari ㅤ “forgive my disagreement, but i think it naive to believe there are main characters in this world. stories are meant to inspire, and so if i am inspiring to you, i thank you for the compliment. but i am no more important than the creatures and plants and skies of teyvat.”

__wanderer ㅤ “are you scared of saying something of importance, or do you really just have nothing important to say? don’t insist upon trivial things like that.”

author’s note: thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, consider reblogging <3

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[lyneytricks]

General ScaraLayla hcs <3

Genre ➸ Fluff???? I think??? Nothing mayor happens it's just them existing. Written in bulleted headcannon format

Warnings ➸ Scara's referred to as Kuni (I'm keeping my Kunimitsu agenda till I die) uhm. Nothing else?? Can be read as platonic or romantic idc this one is just about them being friends. Not proofread so sorry if there's any mistakes tehee :P

A/N ➸ So I pulled this one out of my fucking ass after finishing buddy daddies sorry X3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

They knew of each other before they met, and met before the 3.6 event because I need content.  

Met at a café. Layla wants a nice place to study/do work, and the coffee is good, so... Kuni likes the tea, and that no one bothers him during his weird silent moments of looking at nowhere while thinking of how meaningless whatever the fuck he’s doing is 

Kuni recognised Layla, but didn’t think much about it at First, and only ever talked to her when she was freaking out about her homework (“Why do I have to write so many papers, whyyy...) and he told her to stop bitching and gave her some sweets the staff always give to accompany his tea (to “shut her up”) (he was NOT concerned about the Akademiya’s way of teaching) (He did not help her with her wording and structure of the paper afterwards, you must be insane to even suggest that) 

They didn’t really talk, but they just. Sort of agreed that on Saturdays they share a table and do whatever. Kuni helps Layla study, and he knows all sorts of flowery words for her papers and works 

Also. Their order: Green tea, two espressos and two glazed donuts (Kuni also gets dark chocolate sometimes) 

Kuni writes. I haven’t decided what he writes, but he does. I’m inbetween character analysis (from things he watches/reads, yes, he’s a fandom dude in my mind.) and poetry, tbh. I think he heard it was a good way to express emotion without beating up fatui agents and started as a way to “prove just how ridiculous this is!” and he actually liked it. He hasn’t stopped since, bro can pull out a five page creative writing out of his ass in half an hour trust me I’m the bow on his outfit 

Layla’s handwriting is like. Seeing heaven. (When she’s not about to pass out) And Kuni’s is like watching a rich kid fall into poverty without any way to get back up 

LAYLA! DOES! LETTERING!!!! I’m not arguing w anyone about this it’s true I was there she buys so much colourful ink and so much pretty papers and she carefully thinks about what she wants to write... She always finds herself going back to stationary stores and separating mora just to buy more pens and nice notebooks 

Kuni wrote her a letter once while he was in his depression mood telling her how much he likes her friendship and how she appreciates silence and how her hair flows like sea waves and he sulked for an entire fucking month because of it and only decided to see her again once he was convinced she forgot about it completely (She didn’t. She keeps it in a box in her room with her most prized possessions)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───