Hi Im getting annoyed while looking for Sayu content so PLEASE remember that Sayu IS NOT A CHILD!!!!!!
[Image from the wiki]*
Sayu is most likely a young adult, at youngest she is in her late teens. She is not the same age as Klee and Qiqi.
She is literally just a short woman!! So Short for so long that shes convinced the world around her isnt real! A 7-10 y/o child wouldnt experience that!!
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*Before people try to say I shouldnt be trusting the wiki, let it be known that Genshin wiki is the most accurate and trusted wiki I’ve come across in my years of fandom. Point is I trust it because I know it is incredibly accurate and is sure to only include canon content. (edit: I have since learned this specific information came from the official facebook page)
IMPORTANT EDIT!!!
Now that Mihoyo has released more information, it has just come with more confirmation that Sayu is an adult.
Her child-like apperance is likely due to her in-game model being designed for children in mind, however Mihoyo has shown via there mid-height models that mihoyo choses models based on height not on age. (See Fischl and Keqing being the same height but they are mid-teen and adult respectively)
For my fellow ao3 readers and/or writers, I would ask you for a moment of your spare time to do a questionnaire on the use of ao3, my friend needs it for her master's thesis in library sciences
The questionnaire can be found here:
Hello!
By filling out this questionnaire you are participating in the study “Tagging and searching on the Archive of Our Own”, which I am co
It's not long, it won't take you more than five minutes to do it, and i promise a thousand hugs and kisses for whoever does it
notes: story spoilers, very complicated relationships and some unhealthy mindsets, reader death, lots of violence, just lots of death and mentions of death in general, angst, shoutout to the wonderful @wangshengs for brainrotting with me over this idea muah muah!! <3
Background: You’re suddenly isekai-ed to Teyvat one day in the place of the traveler. Every time you die, the timeline restarts to a set moment before you died. You’re stuck in an eternal timeloop, and when you clear certain plot points, your “respawn” point moves further up the timeline. You’re a threat to the natural “law” of Teyvat, so monsters are naturally more aggressive to you. Both the Abyss Order and Dainsleif view you as a strange anomaly that needs to be “fixed”. After all, Teyvat won’t allow you to stay dead, and time itself shifts to keep you alive. All the gods and adeptus are well aware of what’s happening; they’re the only ones who know when the timeline restarts.
Dropped in the middle of nowhere, with no clue as to what happened or what to do, your first death is quick and painful when you’re shot full of arrows by a hilichurl archer after you stumble too close to their camp. It is witnessed by one person: Venti, who arrives far too late. You’re bleeding out by the time he finds you, and he knows he cannot save you.
He holds your body in his arms, brushing back your hair. “I’m sorry I was too late,” he says, nothing but a stranger in your first death. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” His eyes are a thousand miles away; is he really talking to you? You’re too far gone to care.
“This is the only thing I can do for you,” Venti says. He opens his mouth, and sings. His song wraps you in its embrace, easing your pain and calming your fear. Your eyes close… only to reopen with a start, your hands trembling as you search your body for arrow wounds that should be there; you can feel the pain, haunting every step, but there is no blood, no bruises, nothing to show that you had just died. In fact, you woke up where you had first been dropped in Teyvat.
This time, you avoid the hilichurl camp where you had just died, and when you stumble across Venti, his eyes widen. “You should be dead,” he says.
Something is horribly wrong, and the both of you know it. Still, he does his best to reassure you.
“Maybe the archons love you,” he suggests cheerily, “to give you another chance at life.”
If this is love, then the blessing of the gods is a cruel thing.
Little quick and light kimono tutorial because I’m noticing a trend of weird things non-Japanese people do with them.
Bathrobes =/= Kimonos
Kimonos aren’t sacred. They’re for everyone. Just practice drawing them, use tons of refs, be respectful, and have fun. There’s also tons of other types of traditional clothes you can mess around with. Research is your best friend
I’ve finally finished this. I started this about 2 years ago but put the animation on hold for a long time because I couldn’t figure out how to continue it for some time. A lot of the animation I did last year and finished up this year. Anyway, I like Braxien a lot and felt it would be decent practice to try to animate something interesting involving it so here it is.
Warnings: General yandere themes.
Word count: 1.7k.
Note: this is a gift for the lovely @vani-ya !!! i know she’s absolutely in love with xiao, eheheh … i hope you like this! and good luck getting your boy when his banner drops, you deserve him <33
Xiao doesn’t know why he’s still here.
It irks him more than any human language could hope to articulate. This incessant draw that lures him in, seducing him with whispers of possibilities he doesn’t deserve, a constant aching. The agony that is both in a literal and metaphorical sense, the weight of his sins, is almost preferable to this plague of uncertainty.
Whoever would’ve thought a mighty Yaksha would be troubled by such trivial matters?
“I thought you said you’d tone down the constant scowling.”
Please do not repost art or share without credits. Also posted on twitter.
In Dreams // Xiao X Reader Drabble
…possibly part of a longer fic (series??) for Xiao <.<; This was just quickly whipped up for the art because I felt the incessant need to post it with the art. So… warning: not beta read, not thought out.
“Xiao, what’s your dream?”
“Dream?”
Xiao looked down to where you were squatting on the ground next to him. Black ink stained your fingers as you messily scribbled your hopes, wishes, and aspirations for the year on your chosen bright paper lantern.
Pausing, you gazed up at the stoic male, a simple white lantern held awkwardly in one hand. Forced upon him by you.
