" Clouds "

" clouds "

✧ cw: scaramouche ; angst ; blood ; [name] death ; not proofread

✧ a/n: have some angst bc yes!! i hope everyone likes the new theme too :)

  the sky is pelting grayish blue raindrops all around the scene, forming puddles that rivulet through the grass and ripple down the slope. there is a puddle settling underneath you, an indentation in the ground that fills and almost looks like glass; almost, if not for the trickle of inky, blooming color that stains it an unmistakable, bloody scarlet.

  "[name]," heaves the boy kneeling above you as you take rattling breaths in, like tiny knives on your windpipe, "[name]." glittering black and gold ashes of corrupted samurai wisp into the air, buoyed by pale green breezes before they disappear in the downpour. "[name], can you -- can you -- "

  "scaramouche," you say, and he barely even stiffens. you try to breathe, and your lips twist, just slightly, into a smile. "scaramouche ... kunikuzushi ... look at the clouds."

  he doesn't move his head, and he's trembling just a bit; his bloody, scraped knees are shaking, clothes plastered in freezing rain to his thin frame. "who cares about clouds? can – ” 

  you don’t seem to hear him, your eyes glazed with joy as you look up. “they’re so pretty,” you breathe.

  “stop talking about the clouds, can you breathe? are you -- " he gulps. "what's the pain feel like?"

  "ah," you suck in a breath, "it's not so bad, really, it's just -- like a dull ache."

  he is not cruel enough to test this, but he can hear the lie ringing through your quiet words like the toll of a bell. "stop," he grits his teeth, "don't say that. you don't get to do that. i know it hurts, so don't lie to me." 

  "okay," you whisper. and with that word, you come apart, your body going limp. it hurts. blood flows faster, and he presses his hands harder on your stomach. 

  a few beats pass. there is silence, broken by your labored breathing and the endless rain. you can feel your life ebbing. 

  "kuni," you say, shivering painfully, waves of icy, pointy cold crashing over you with every moment, "is this it?"

  "no!" he shouts, and his normally commanding and unquestionable voice is tremulous and just as he knows the sound of your lies you know his. "don't say that! you're gonna be fine, just stop talking already and save your strength."

  "i don't want to stop talking," you whisper. "i don't wanna stop. kuni -- i haven't even done anything, i -- there's so much i still haven't seen -- this can't be the end, this -- "

  you cough, and blood comes out. "this isn't the end," he bites, and tries not to rock back on his heels when a fresh wave of blood pools against his calloused palms. he hates the feeling of your life trickling out and his hands on the wound like he's trying to press it back in. "it's gonna be fine. i told you ... i'd take you to mondstadt for your birthday. we're gonna go to starsnatch peak. the cecelias smell just like -- "

  "honey," you finish, smiling breathlessly. your eyes are shimmering. "this is wrong."

  "this is wrong," he repeats. neither of you really know what the other means.

  you swallow. he blinks rapidly. there are glassy drops collecting on the ends of his eyelashes. you reach up to wipe his eyes with one unsteady hand. "honey," you say again, "i love you, kuni," and then your hand falls, and your eyes turn, almost in a single moment, to unseeing mirrors. 

  "hey." his voice is quiet. "hey, [name], what the hell?" 

  there is no response.

  "hey, [name]," he presses harder on your stomach, "say something. look at me." he's shaking now, tears welling in those impenetrable eyes, like sea glass in their vivid color. "[name], look at me! look at me!"

  but you are looking at nothing but the clouds; and he refuses to turn his eyes skyward to take those traitorous clouds in; that thundering, eternal reminder of his infinite failure, over and over and over again. and now, you are looking up at the clouds, and his hands are staunching a slowing bloodflow, a stopped heart.

  he groans, pitifully quiet, the sound snatched away from him in the gathering winds. he sounds like a lost child. "[name]." his body twitches, shuddering with grief; and then he is sobbing, fists clenching handfuls of your sodden shirt as he tries to shake you, as if he can rouse you from your sleep. "stop it, stop," he whispers, “stop messing with me. just look at me, i – i’m sorry – i’m sorry i didn’t – i couldn’t – ”

  he remembers that you can’t hear him – remembers he is crying over a body – and he cries harder, almost hyperventilating. he can’t breathe. the rain is whipping into a frenzied storm, swirling faster every time he remembers that the air he is wasting with his half broken gasps is air you no longer breathe. he is weeping, painful, stabbing heartache ripping into his chest every new second, and he thinks maybe it would be better if he was gone too just so he didn’t feel this anymore

  and then a strange feeling ghosts over his shoulder. a familiar feeling, like the hand of –

  of someone he loves –

  and all at once, the heavens clear; he whirls, and there is nothing there. just clear blue sky and ripples of smooth wind, breezing over the grass and flattening it in waves. he looks back, tears still welling in his eyes and running down his cheeks, but you are still there. still dead. 

  “[name],” he whispers, voice choked. “i’m looking. i’m looking.” the sky is empty. “the clouds – they’re – ” they’re gone; everything is gone. “i – i got it, so – can you – ”

  to whatever he was going to say, there is no answer.

© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed

Want to see them with cute little hair decorations (& I mean the really cutesy & colourful ones)...doesn't matter if they're your own, or your little siblings deciding to 'make them prettier', or you just got the items on a whim...the fact they'll never take it off bc it was you (& your sibling) who put them on his person...

Some would wear it with pride, showing off the handiwork (regardless if it was messy or not), & some may be a bit bashful/reluctant (maybe glare at those who stare just a bit too long for his liking...) but would defend the items in his hair with his life (can be seen as overdramatic...but if taken account in the genshin setting, he'll make sure nothing touches his hair, not one accessory will be lost or he'll literally turn the place upside-down to find them)

ur first and last recent emojis are ur gender now. mine is 🅱👨‍❤‍💋‍👨

Counting down the days before I have to present Danganronpa fanart to my art class 💀

MOVIE NIGHT

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti

♡ — Synopsis: immersing yourselves in the wonderful world of films.

♡ — Content: modern!au, fluff, crack, established relationship in Venti’s, mutual pining in Kazuha’s, friends to lovers in Kazuha's and Heizou’s, Scara being a little mean and grumpy, reader is roommates with Scaramouche, Xiao is oblivious, but he's got the spirit

♡ — A/N: welcome to another episode of Rei can’t write the same amount for each character. No, I’m definitely not biased lmao I’m so sorry, Venti enjoyers </3 I hope you enjoy the fic though! Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💕

Heizou

Shikanoin Heizou is a splendid friend, but he’s also the last person anyone wants to watch movies with. For one, he always chooses films of the same genre: mystery, and in addition to this, he’s too smart for his own good. You’re certain your friend must possess some sort of sixth sense because he never fails to predict the most ludicrous of twists. On one hand, you’re impressed by his superhuman abilities, but on the other hand, you can’t get through a single film without Heizou spoiling the ending for you.

This leads to you making a bet with Heizou. If he can watch one movie with you without giving away anything about the critical plot points, you will do one favour for him — anything he wants (within reason, of course). When you propose the idea, you’re surprised by how quickly Heizou agrees. It seems that he’s confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut.

The two of you choose to watch a detective movie. For the first half of the film, he’s able to hold himself together impressively well. He simply sits still and stares at the screen with interest lacing his gaze. Heizou doesn’t speak, doesn’t express surprise or grief when the first victim of the fictional murderer is found dead, and doesn’t chime in when the detective is investigating leads. However, one particular scene shatters his resolve.

The detective has caught the killer in the act, but their figure is hidden beneath a thick cloak. Their identity is obscured, and they do not speak a word. As the detective starts ranting about how they have connected the dots and figured out the identity of the murderer, Heizou starts shifting uncomfortably next to you. You look over to him and see that he is struggling to stay quiet. Finally, he gives in to temptation.

"What kind of detective are you? That’s — " before Heizou can speak another word, the figure pulls down their hood to reveal that the detective's conclusions are completely off the mark. Your jaw drops. Heizou regains his composure and breathes out a sigh of relief. Thanks to the film’s impeccable timing, he hasn’t lost yet. He manages to make it through the rest of the runtime without spoiling anything — not that there’s much left to spoil. Once the credits roll, Heizou brings up the favour you promised him.

"What do you want?" you ask, breathing out a sigh of defeat.

"A kiss," your mischievous friend smirks at you. His eyes glitter as he speaks. You stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

"Where is this coming from?" you inquire, narrowing your eyes at Heizou.

"For someone who’s been forced to watch so many detective movies, you sure are bad at deciphering clues. I love you — as more than a friend. I thought I was making it fairly obvious, but it seems you’re just as clueless as the characters that were onscreen mere minutes ago."

Kazuha

As your childhood friend, Kazuha has spent countless nights sleeping over at your house and watching cheesy films with you — emphasis on cheesy. Even though the two of you are now in college, your tradition of having movie nights every week has never ceased. However, your feelings toward the boy have changed dramatically.

There was a time back when you were in elementary school where Kazuha was nothing more than your best friend. The two of you would cuddle on his couch while viewing Disney movies. At the time, you thought nothing of the close proximity, too focused on the film to read too much into Kazuha’s actions. You didn’t notice the way he would stare at you instead of the screen. You didn’t notice the way he would gently pull you closer whenever you seemed scared. And you didn’t notice the way he would sigh wistfully whenever you watched romance movies that you found abhorrently cringey.

However, now that you’re an adult, you are able to catch on to Kazuha’s subtle affections, prompting you to consider the prospect of the boy having a crush on you. Your theory causes you to come to the startling conclusion that you reciprocate his sentiments. In an official capacity, you’re still best friends, but deep down, you know that there’s more to it. He likes you, but you’re too scared to confront him about his feelings, too afraid of taking one wrong step and decimating your precious friendship.

It doesn't help that Kazuha is only becoming more and more bold with his advances. Case in point: today’s weekly film viewing. As always, Kazuha has his arm wrapped around you, cuddling with you for comfort. He’s so close that you can feel his breath tickling the side of your face, so you try your best to direct all your attention toward the movie to prevent your visage from turning a vibrant cherry red.

Kazuha has chosen to watch something romantic this week. In hindsight, letting him pick the film was a mistake. As a result of your poor decisions, you are now seated on a couch in a television-lit room beside your best friend-turned-crush. Sappy dialogue plays in the background as Kazuha gently plays with your hair. You risk a glance at the boy, and you are rendered breathless.

His white hair catches the weak light of the screen in a way that makes it seem as though it is made from strands of moonlight. The gentle smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Most beautiful of all, however, are his vibrant red eyes. Piercing crimson meets your gaze as Kazuha notices you staring at him.

"The pickup lines in this movie are a little generic, don’t you think?" Kazuha asks you. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t bring up the fact that you were very obviously admiring his appearance just a few seconds ago.

"I guess you’re right," you reply. "Does my favourite poetry nerd think he can do better?" you tease your friend.

Kazuha seems lost in thought for a second before responding. "I like to think that I would be more genuine with the one I love. Instead of repeating the words of lovers before me, I would like to offer the person dearest to my heart words of affirmations specific to them." His answer makes you melt on the spot. Kazuha is such a sweet and thoughtful person.

"Is there anyone you’re thinking about in particular?" you innocently inquire.

Kazuha chuckles lightly. The sound of his laughter is swoon-worthy. "There is. I could write pages upon pages of poetry about them — in fact, I already have. Perhaps we’ll be able to read them together someday."

"And who is the lucky person you’re crushing on?" you ask Kazuha. You try to make your tone light so that your question don’t make him feel as though you’re interrogating him. However, you’re almost certain that desperation oozes from the subtle cracks in your soft voice. An awkward silence hangs in the stagnant air.

"It’s you," Kazuha whispers. "It’s always been you." You feel your heart soaring out of your chest. Despite the fact that you have been somewhat aware of Kazuha’s affections for an eternity, hearing him confess his feelings still causes the blood to rush to your face. Your lips can’t help but curve into a tender smile.

Kazuha makes eye contact with you, desperately searching your gaze for any semblance of reciprocation. He seems to find what he’s looking for because a split second later, the boy relaxes completely.

As the film in the background ends, you and Kazuha come to a mutual understanding. His heart belongs to you and yours to him. The first act of your love story with Kazuha has concluded, but you are sure there is still much more to come.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is nothing short of an interesting roommate. You’re not quite sure why, but he often goes out of his way to avoid you. To your dismay, it almost feels as though you are living alone. You’ve always wanted to get closer to the boy, but he refuses to speak to you unless necessary, and he hardly ever leaves his room. When he does decide to talk to you, his responses are either blunt or straight up snarky. He pokes fun at you in attempts to provoke you. Although you find his attitude infuriating, you also long to understand him. Scaramouche has piqued your curiosity in every way possible.

It just so happens that you find the perfect opportunity to spend time with him on a rainy summer day. Initially, you are intent on heading to the local park to meet your friend for a picnic dinner. However, after taking only a few steps outside your apartment complex, a few light drops of rain hit your head. Despite this, you continue forward, hoping that Mother Nature will take pity on you and calm the cries of the storms at hand. Your wishes are not fulfilled, as after only a few minutes, you are forced to head back as gentle rain becomes a raging thunderstorm.

When you re-enter your apartment, you notice that the place is almost completely dark. The only light inside the small space is a faint glow being emitted from the living room. Cautiously, you walk into the room. As you approach, you notice the faint sound of people conversing coming from the room. Strange. Does Scaramouche have guests over?

Your questions are answered when you step into the living room. Hushed whispers ring out over menacing music, evoking an ominous feeling within the depths of your soul. However, as you look over at the couch, you feel all the tension in your body dissipate into nothingness. Scaramouche is sitting down on the black cushions, remote in hand, and he appears to be watching something on the TV.

As you make your way toward your roommate, the floorboards creak and groan, causing him to whip his head around. His eyes widen as they land on you.

"What are you doing here?" Scaramouche asks you, furrowing his brows as he speaks. He regards you with an unreadable expression.

"I live here," you tell him. You know that he didn’t mean the question in that way, but you want to get a reaction out of him.

Scaramouche heaves out a heavy sigh. "Whatever," he mutters dismissively. He turns back to the screen.

"What are you doing?" you question Scaramouche, slowly walking over to the couch. You stand beside the piece of furniture, hesitant to sit down. Scaramouche doesn’t respond for a while. Perhaps he is hoping for you to leave. However, you continue to stay by his side, so he finally gives in and speaks.

"I’m watching a horror movie," he informs you in a dry tone. "Why? Do you want to watch with me? Somehow I doubt you would be able to handle it." Even in the dimly-lit room, you can see the wide cheshire-esque smirk spreading across Scaramouche’s face.

You roll your eyes. "I’ll be fine!" you insist, sinking down into the couch. The cautious thoughts that had been plaguing your mind just moments prior have now vanished. All that remains is a burning desire to prove Scaramouche wrong.

Despite your determination, you have to admit that your roommate is right. The film is frightening. However, as you look over at Scaramouche, you notice that he appears rather indifferent. It seems that he really isn’t scared. On the other hand, you feel yourself getting somewhat jumpy. The movie keeps catching you off-guard.

Chills run down your spine as ghosts emerge to confront the protagonist at every twist and turn they take. The backstories, motifs, and physical appearances of the entities cause you to shiver, and the gruesome nature of the characters’ demises has you shaking.

Subconsciously, you edge closer and closer to Scaramouche throughout the runtime of the movie. Around three fourths of the way through, you’re shoulder-to-shoulder. You don’t notice anything, but Scaramouche does. He doesn’t comment on it.

"How are you feeling?" Scaramouche suddenly asks out of nowhere, causing you to jump. He hits the pause button on the remote he’s clutching and waits to hear your response. The room is now completely silent. Scaramouche’s gentle breathing is audible in the stillness, and a sense of calm washes over you as you listen. You gradually regain your composure.

"I’m fine," you say. Although you try to make your voice seem confident, it comes out shaky. By the light of the television screen, you can see Scaramouche’s brows raise in a skeptical manner, and he turns off the TV.

"I don’t believe you." Scaramouche declares, his voice steady in stark contrast to yours. You pout, but you don’t try to argue with him. He’s right. The film has scared the wits out of you. "Listen, it’s obvious that you don’t want to watch more. Why don’t you just go to sleep or something?" he waves his hand dismissively.

You yawn upon hearing his words. Although it is still early, something about freaking out over a movie for a solid hour is immensely tiring. Perhaps sleeping is a good idea, but you are also afraid that the images of the ghastly figures within the film will follow you and materialize within the realm of nightmares. The mere thought makes you tremble. Gathering up all your courage, you ask Scaramouche a nearly outlandish question.

"Stay with me?" you stutter, shyly looking into his eyes. In a normal instance, you would not even consider requesting such a thing, but desperation often drives people to do crazy things.

Initially, the only response to your plea is an empty silence. You look down, wishing you could take back your words. If Scaramouche rejects you now, you will never be able to look him in the eyes again, but to your surprise, your roommate sighs and nods his head when you finally find the strength to meet his gaze.

Instead of leading Scaramouche to your room, you simply adjust your position on the couch and lay your head down on his lap. Your roommate opens his mouth to protest, but he sees the relaxed expression on your face and relents. Finally content knowing that you’re with someone who will protect you, you close your eyes and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Instead of nightmares, your dreams are filled with sweet cotton candy skies, shimmering beaches of bejeweled sands, and oceans of the deepest azure.

As you are sleeping, half-coherent thoughts form in your unconscious mind. You begin to realize that perhaps Scaramouche isn’t as bad as he appears on the outside. With him, you feel a sense of serenity like no other, despite the fact that you are not all that familiar with each other. For now, you are content with the fact that you and your roommate have taken the first step in a long process of opening up to each other.

Xiao

Xiao doesn’t watch movies often. He doesn’t have a preferred genre, doesn’t have a favourite actor, and hasn’t watched more than five classics. In other words, the man lives under a rock.

When you learn of this, you immediately take it upon yourself to introduce Xiao to a wide array of cinematic masterpieces — and some laughably terrible movies just for the fun of it. Even though the two of you only know each other through mutual friends, you feel too much pity for Xiao to not help him explore the world of films. He's been missing out on absolute gems for years.

Besides, Xiao's reactions are always priceless — his reactions and, well, his lack of reactions. As an example, whenever the two of you watch horror movies together, Xiao stares at the screen with a straight face. He even goes so far as to criticize the logic of certain scenes.

"This doesn't make any sense. How did the protagonist trip over nothing?"

The absurdity of cinema logic never fails to puzzle Xiao. His comments, although slightly too serious at times, are always amusing, and they never fail to elicit a light chuckle from you. Unbeknownst to you, Xiao’s heart feels as though it’s about to leap out of his chest whenever he hears your laughter. He doesn’t quite know when or how his feelings toward you began to fester like a storm within his feeble heart.

In any case, Xiao is undeniably starting to fall in love with you, but he never says anything because he fears rejection. His crush on you is why he never says no to your invitations to enjoy films together. Over time, your monthly movie nights turn into weekly hangouts — rather uncharacteristic for the typically anti-social Xiao, leaving you wondering why he treats you differently.

This leads into your current situation. The two of you are sitting down in your living room, watching a teen romance movie. Subtle uncertainty lingers within the air, but you don’t really feel uncomfortable. You never feel uncomfortable with Xiao. Despite his cold exterior, he’s actually an absolute sweetheart, and it shows in the way he’s reluctantly cuddling you to keep you warm right now — albeit a little shyly.

The movie the two of you are watching is rather cringey and overly dramatic. It’s almost painful to watch the protagonist pine over their love interest, refusing to confess because they’re afraid of being turned down. They talk about how incredible their crush is, the comfort that they bring, and how they would love to have them by their side forever. Despite all this, the protagonist is still afraid to declare their affections, retaining a mindset plagued by the woes of doubt and insecurity.

You begin to realize that the main character is rather relatable, but you can’t quite put your finger on why — until you glance over at the amber-eyed boy sitting next to you. The realization that the film just perfectly described your feelings toward Xiao hits you like a truck.

You love Xiao.

You’ve loved him for a very long time.

But you were just too oblivious to tell.

You are so tangled up in a web of your own emotions that you don’t notice the way Xiao stares at you. He longs for you just as much as you long for him, but the two of you are both far to oblivious and fearful to confess your feelings right now. So for the time being, all you can do is steal quick glances at each other and shyly link your pinkies together, hoping that the seeds of affection within your hearts will give you the courage to turn your friendship into a blossoming romance.

Venti

Whenever it’s Venti’s turn to pick the film you’ll be watching for movie night, you just know that he’ll choose one of two things: a Disney movie or a musical. It’s no secret that Venti loves music, so he sings his heart out to all the musical numbers. He has memorized every lyric to every song flawlessly. The duality of your boyfriend’s voice makes you think that he himself could be a movie star. Sometimes it is light and airy to portray the carefree and joyful atmosphere of a scene, reminiscent of a light breeze on a sweltering summer day. However, Venti is also able to make his tone dark and wild — like the unpredictable gale of a fearsome storm.

Despite the fact that the beguiling melodies that leave Venti’s lips are no less impressive than the songs of sirens, sometimes he becomes a little too obnoxious for your liking. There are times where he can’t stop singing, even after the characters have stopped. Although his voice is delightful, it gets irritating because you can’t hear what’s going on in the film. In these instances, the best course of action is to take matters into your own hands.

You can usually get him to shut up by playfully nudging him with your elbow. Squishing his cheeks so that he can’t sing properly also works, and as a bonus, he looks adorable. However, this time, you decide to try something new.

You turn to your boyfriend and stare at him until you catch his attention. Once he is looking back into your eyes, you lean closer to him and wait until he gives you a sign that he’s alright with what you’re about to do. Venti seems to understand and nods, lips parting slightly. He never rejects your advances. Then, you close the distance between the two of you at an excruciating pace, savoring the frustrated expression on your boyfriend’s face. By this time, he has forgotten all about the movie. He is focused on you and you alone.

At long last, you plant a passionate kiss on his lips, fulfilling all his desires. Something about the way he tastes reminds you of freshly-baked apple pie — warm and sweet. You kiss him until he is breathless and red in the face, and when the two of you finally pull apart, your boyfriend is at a loss for words.

He stays silent for the rest of the film.

Thanks for reading! :D

Rb if you would go see the barbie movie with her