#anemo-answers

[tempests-bards-and-birds]

i've been thinking about the word choice in neuvillette's voice lines about the archons, specifically how in saying that deus auri "won" the authority of geo and that the narukami "took" the authority of electro he is very much implying that they came into possession of the authorities deliberately; however, he then calls the anemo archon the "recipient" of the authority of anemo, which seems to imply less that he took it deliberately and more that it was just given to him, which does seem align with what little we know about how venti became the anemo archon (because both of the other viable candidates were. yknow. dead). what's particularly interesting about this to me, then, is that it seems to suggest that neuvillette has done at least some modicum of research into the older archons (the stuff with nahida doesn't count because he was actually conscious while it was happening), which it does make sense for him to have done. either that or i'm just reading too much into arbitrary word choices lmao

[the-original-skipps]

Venti pfp‼️‼️‼️

QWWRQADREI HELLO!!! YOU NOTICED??!! lately this green bard has been rotting in my head I mean I liked him before but now for some reason I’m obsessed I swear what’s with me and short boys but enough about me how are youuu? 💗

[narwhalandchill]

lore accurate fontainian L 😌😌🐋

[viatrixtravels-a]

❥ Xiao or The Wanderer

Send me ❥ + two names and my muse will say which one they'd rather date.

"Last time I teamed up with Wanderer, I got hit by an enemy's attack and he mocked me by saying - I quote - 'Arara~ You suck at this~'...!"

Someone was definitely still a bit salty about that one.

"Hmph! So this is an easy one, Xiao it is!"

[reallyrandomtj]

Send ‘Ship Bias’ and I will share up to 5 Ships I have a bias for for my muse!

@stelliferousduo asked: Ship bias + Childe

... Does he have a TYPE?

Childe x Lumine

Childe x Zhongli

Childe x Wanderer ( portrayal dependent )

Childe x Kaeya

Childe x Wriothesley

Mun Note: Childe's type? People that can kick his ass--

[worldly-diversity]

@infinitexmuses ○ 𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 ○

          ⤷  『  “  i do not intend to die  ”  』

"Good." The words were spoken with a sort of finality that denied the very possibility of it happening one day into the future, outside of their control. The very thought of it made him uncomfortable, a frosty chill slipping down his back.

Teyvat never managed to feel like home, for all that he made many friends and visited many wonderful places. Perhaps the closest he'd ever gotten was when he had first voyaged with Paimon to discover the fate of his sister. That day he'd laid his hands on the first statue of the seven and had felt the breeze answer within him, reminding him of fleeting memories of the sky, both Teyvat's and others, hours of flying carelessly in the vastness, unfettered and unhindered. The nights he dreamed of those memory fragments were his favourite always.

He could no longer fly under his own power, but the gift of Anemo came closest, and the bond he had developed with Venti over the years had only anchored that feeling. Perhaps it was unfair of him to associate those dreams with the Anemo Archon, but the quiet afternoons spent with him when even Paimon would not disturb them were a solace, and he was attached to them. To Venti.

A soft sigh carried on the wind as he tried to loosen the tension that had crept into his shoulders. He shouldn't be thinking of such things during the rare moments they had together…

"Just… Promise to call me if you need me, okay? The wind will reach me anywhere." Call, and I'll be there. Let me protect you. He didn't speak the thoughts aloud, but they swelled in his chest nonetheless, and he thought Venti of all people might understand why he feels that way.

[prodigiousvisions]

❛❛ Miss Keqing. ❜❜ A tender tonality, as geta settle 'pon the railing. She awaits her momentarily for the maiden, rain spilling 'pon her cheeks, dousing tresses & billowing sleeves ---- slowly, she places footing 'pon the more stable ground, the flooring upholding the railing she once stood upon. Umbrella, previously closed for herself, is opened for the lightning woman. She tilts it over her head as quickly as she watches her step out, smiling at her softly. ❛❛ It's becoming a rather cold day. Would you like to come eat some warm stew with me ? ❜❜

unprompted. always accepting. | @dayrisen

UNBEKNOWNST TO THE YUHENG, THE ITINERARY OF SOLITUDE SHE'D DRAWN OUT FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE DAY WOULD BE CAST OFF TO THE SIDE AND DISCARDED IN THE WIND. Official business held at the Yuehai Pavilion had taken the entirety of the morning to resolve; to which she'd impatiently tap a finger against the refined wooden surface of their table until it was her turn to speak. Nonetheless, with its fruitful conclusion, the meeting between the Qixing had been dismissed. These gatherings were bound to happen on a monthly basis, regardless of the duration this one in particular took. What she hadn't anticipated was overcast skies to meet her periphery as she drew out the building door, nor the company of another to prepare her an umbrella so as to not be subject to the sudden downpour ill-suited for the season. She pauses, registering the voice in her mind before turning to the source directly.

Yes, it was only natural it was her that was doing something so carefree.

"Koto. Were you waiting for me?" Query that nearly begs further scrutiny, lecture hanging on her tone as a frown curls on her features. Ah well. It couldn't be helped. She was here now, wasn't she? Keqing exhales softly, shutting eyes in light criticism. "It does appear to be getting colder. Raining too... Any longer out here like this and you're going to get sick. So let's go eat stew. Come now, put yourself under the umbrella too!"

[anantaru]

— flavored chapstick challenge

synopsis. you put on different chapsticks and make your boyfriend guess the flavor <3

including. alhaitham, venti, scaramouche

genre. making out & slightly suggestive, fluff, gn! reader

— alhaitham

as was expected from somebody like the scribe himself, the moment you have challenged your boyfriend alhaitham to such witty game, he, in return, will take it serious, extremely grave to the point where the more actual reason as to why you wanted to play this game in the first place, went straight down the drain.

notwithstanding the fact that such was the case now, the man will always kiss you slowly and passionately, each time, introducing you to how it felt when time froze, whenever he pressed his lips on you.

naturally, to savor the artificial taste on his mouth, he tenderly swipes the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip and hums, then breaths in as glitter and a faint rosy tone was sticking all over his mouth.

alhaitham opens his eyes and watches you struggling weakly at him.

you're holding yourself close to your boyfriend now, both hands around his neck, watching him with flustered cheeks and stars hidden behind your eyes, greeting him with your precious gaze.

alhaitham blinks and found himself holding the eye contact longer, his lips pressing together to voice a deep, low, pleading tone;

"sunsettia, i assume?" he whispers, almost cruelly, staring at your wet lips and like he didn't just tease the living hell out of you.

yet not so fast, since truth must be served in alhaitham's eyes— following his answer he assured you that in order for him to be truly certain, one hundred percent, he needed to repeat that kiss once again, that exact one, maybe use his tongue a little more while he was at it.

— venti

venti simply takes every opportunity to just kiss you while ignoring the entire purpose of the game, even once asking you about the rules again— this isn't him feigning innocence, or is it now?

ah well, you know your boyfriend pretty well, correct? it's not like he doesn't understand what the chapstick challenge was, in fact, when you proposed the idea to him, the anemo archon was utterly delighted, all impulses of soul and senses numbed when he started to become excited about it.

in a tizzy as he was, one of his most beloved hobbies was the secret art in teasing you, not to forget edging you on and playing sweet, miniature tricks on you while adoring the annoyed tone on your pretty expression.

venti gently props up your face with his hand before leaning in, his gentle dreams long subdued when he faces reality. you let yourself slit into his embrace when he begins to kiss your bottom lip, nibbling on the wet skin before tilting his head to let his tongue inside.

you felt malleable, as if all your troubles and worries simply had melted like snow in the sun, trickling away into pure nothingness— and ugh, he did it once again, making you forget about the game as well.

instead of saying something, you resort to letting yourself drift into his warmth, stroking one hand into his tousled hair before tenderly clashing your tongue against his own— yet before you knew it, venti was senseless once again, abruptly pulling away red-cheeked, "hehe, it's valberry, isn't it?"

— scaramouche

sometimes you wonder if scaramouche genuinely believes that you cannot pick up on what his secret plans are, especially when it came to a game you, in fact, controlled.

you were aware of your boyfriend and on how smart he was, not to mention knowledgable— so why, out of the blue, he pretends to not get the flavor right, even worse, not a single one was guessed correctly the entire day.

come on now, he clearly knows the answer, look at his handsome face blushed with love and that awfully sweet smirk plastered all over his lips, attached with residue of your chapsticks showing a little glitter on his face.

scaramouche was getting more clumsy the more chapsticks you tried out, even swallowing down the first two letters of the real answer before messily uttering the complete opposite.

perhaps, he believes you kiss all the grief and longing away from his flesh, and so this is why he wants to kiss you more, or make you kiss him instead— see it this way, he doesn't need to say it out loud and embarrass himself, despite his progress in trusting the people around him, scaramouche found himself struggling regardless.

even so, all his thoughts, all his passions, all his delights, whatever you stirred enclosed by his immortal frame, he refers to it as a bubble of love, and your touch alone calms his fiery flame within a dark spot in his body.

with gentleness crossing paths in your view, you admire kuni and purse your lips, remaining silent as his mind was long since lulled into soft calmness.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[genshin-impact-updates]

Let hymns of praise cast the winds as my ode

"To resolve disputes between citizens, laws both fair and just must be laid out. I'm afraid we can't approve of Dahlia... dragging disagreeing parties to the tavern to settle affairs via drinking contests, without any talk of wrongs done... Does turning enemies into drinking buddies really solve the problem?"

— Jean

◆ Name: Dahlia

◆ Title: Ode and Oblation

◆ Herald of Barbatos

◆ Vision: Hydro

◆ Constellation: Cantus Choralis

Many Mondstadters believe that Dahlia has the Anemo Archon's favor, and that asking him for guidance is a reliable path to answers from Barbatos himself.

That is why those who desire succor often congregate around the Deacon, pouring out their troubled hearts to him.

However, such behavior has never perplexed Dahlia. If anything, he seems to enjoy it. He is drawn to the disturbances and troubles of the world, like a dandelion seed chasing a bustling breeze.

On days when the believers do not come to him, he often goes to them instead — leaving the Cathedral and strolling through Mondstadt's streets to look for trouble he might get involved in.

Obligation to spread the good word? Hardly — he does this out of personal interest.

"After all, that's how one of the prayers goes: 'Let the wind lead.'"

[jhuzen]

(Leaks)

Did you saw dan heng IL lightcone image leaks???????

Looks like he is FUCKING CHAINED UP. I'M GONNA DIE. And i have something very very inappropriate to say, hehehehehehehehe.

(Also how to skip 3 weeks to Blade's banner?👀)

- Anon K

I DID. I WENT INSANE. him in chains? pLS I WILL CHAIN HIM TO THE BED MYSELF. i’m gonna get his LC just for the art. HADIMSIDC.

also, i wish we could skip that too. ugh. i’m so ready for blade. i have 200 pulls saved just for his dumbass. i want him to be mine 😭

[lavenderchqn]

Hello hello! Me again for my 2nd request!

My second request is all the Anemo guys with their s/o (reader). The guys never seen their s/o getting angry or furious before as they are like a happy go lucky or just generally calm and chillax.

But then one day, while the guys and their s/o were like walking/doing tasks/ or whatever you want them to do, someone decided to insult the guys (or smth) and it made reader so furious that they actually (about) to throw hands on the person and yelling at them for Insulting the guys.

I just want to see the Anemo's reactions seeing their s/o getting furious and throwing hands at the person and what will they do! If this request is a bit weird then I apologise in advance. Thank you for your time! Feel free to reject this request!

✧・┆pack a punch, babe

— all of us have a breaking point, some simply have it much further than others

requested by @miacara2; thank you so much for the request and many apologies for only getting around to it now

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

an absolute sweetheart, who will do everything in his power to stop you from doing anything, you’ll regret in the future. over the years he, unfortunately, got used to less than nice commissioners

Aether stands frozen. He’s unsure if it’s due to hearing the worst insult of his existence, or the power of the slap you just delivered across the commissioner’s face. 

“Repeat yourself.” You say, fuming as you tower over the commissioner. The tone of your voice is something the blond traveller had never seen before, visualising itself as sharper than thousand knives. You were usually so calm, never resorting to anger and violence. The kindest person he knew. “I said.” You speak again, even lower. “Repeat. Yourself.” 

The addressee, unfortunately, has other plans. They scoff, crossing their arms. “I said it’s good his sister went missing. Probably realised how useless he is and decided to save herself.” 

It feels like a blur. Aether flinches as he hears the painful words once more, even though he’s unable to move his body otherwise. He’s unsure himself, if he wishes to leave the situation or try and retort back. Some topics… are simply best avoided, regardless of how displeased you are with the person insulting. An abundance of thoughts is running through his head, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

You tsk, clearly unpleased with their answer. Without much hesitation, you grab the offender by their collar — finding the strength deep inside to lift them to meet your eye level. “Quite the nerve you have.”  Your voice is laced with so much venom, that it could kill. The same can be said about the tight grip you have of the commissioner’s shirt. “Oh, heavens, I’d love to make you eat dirt.” 

The expression on your face… is worrying. Your usually bright eyes are more akin to coal and a worrying smile graces your face. As if you’re about to do something, you will regret as soon as the adrenaline drops.  

Noticing your nails are very close to drawing blood, Aether manages to snap out of his frozen state. His hand darts out to gently but firmly grab onto your hand, untangling it from the commissioner’s shirt. “Love, stop.” He says, his voice soft but underlined with urgency. After all, he doesn’t know how much until you break completely. 

Your body turns to it, your fiery gaze meeting his. “Aether, they can’t just—“ You say, borderline offended at his lack for standing up for himself. 

“I know, Love” He interrupts. “It’s not worth it. Trust me.” 

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

god, there’s something so attractive about letting you take the lead and fight for him. Yeah, he’s more than capable of getting back at the offender on his own… but he cannot help but to fall more and more in love with you as you advocate in his place. 

The second the patron finishes uttering his comment about Venti making a nice ‘plaything’, the chair you’ve been sitting on screeches against the floor as you push it back. You’re pretty certain your partner is too shocked to do anything about the deplorable comment. Although you were never the one for violence, you wouldn’t be willing to let such harassment free. 

Before you make your move, you take note of your surroundings. The establishment is packed to the brim — bartenders are concerned with other clients. The rational part of you still wants to ask one of them for help. To throw the drunkard to the curb. The other part is fuelled with rage. How is it possible that people have so much audacity in them, you think. 

You don’t say anything as you grab the offender by the collar of his shirt, eyes ice cold. You jab your knee into his stomach, knocking the person out as they fall to the floor. You should’ve given them a chance to apologise, or anything… But there’s this inkling you have. They wouldn’t back down. This type of behaviour was more than likely a pattern for them, regardless of the gender of those who he was objectifying.

“Think twice before you open your mouth again, scumbag.” You comment, glaring at his unconscious body. You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. There are so many scenarios running through your head about how this will turn out. Is Venti alright? Oh, god. Venti saw all that.

“Windblume?” The man in question asks, grabbing the hem of your shirt. His voice carries a note of genuine surprise. He leans forward, assessing the situation at hand. His teal flicker between you and the person on the floor, almost as if trying to explain to himself this just happened. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.” He whispers. 

You shoot him a look, though there’s no heat behind them. “Ven, this isn’t funny. What he said was disgusting. I couldn’t just sit there and let him—“ 

“And you didn’t, Lovely.” He hums, gently taking your hand and leading the two of you towards the exit. He makes a small comment about a drunk patron losing consciousness towards the bartender as you leave. “Never expected you to be so hot when angry~” He giggles. 

“Hot?” You repeat his comment, raising an eyebrow. “Is that going to be your go-to whenever I defend you from being objectified?” You ask, your shoulders sagging as the tension goes away. 

“Oh, absolutely!” 

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

catches your hand before you even manage to land a hit. his behaviour might be cold and dismissive at your attempts at protecting him, but he'd rather not have you injured because of him. some battles need to be fought alone.

Your fist almost makes it. Key word — almost. Before you can process anything, it’s secured tightly in Xiao’s hand. “Breathe. In, out.” He says, not taking his eyes off the person who insulted him. His voice is commending, almost authoritative. He notices how your body shifts at his order, retracting back into the calm nature he’s grown used to. 

Still, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he tugs your body so you’re standing slightly behind him. He knows the second the insults turn to you — regarding the failed attempt at defending your partner, you’ll probably explode. You might be acting as if you’ve calmed down fully, given the failure, but there’s something about how you’ve grown silent Xiao doesn’t fully trust. 

And yet, he makes no comment on it. “Let’s go.” He says, turning to leave. He does, however, give one last look to the person who clearly has no respect for the others. “Just so you know,” He says, the look cold and calculated. “I have an excellent memory for people’s faces.” 

Once Xiao feels you’re far enough, he stops, halting your body with his. “Why?” The look he gives you is serious — amber eyes more confused than angry. 

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Your brows are furrowed and a small pout graces your face. “You cannot tell me what they said was okay—“ Thinking about it back makes your hands clench. Despite everything that your partner did to ground you, there was still this lingering anger bubbling inside of you. 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a minute. He needs to process this. And act in a way that won’t set you off any further. “Don’t involve yourself in my affairs.” He states coldly. “Especially ones where you could end up injured.” 

Oh, that… That was a poor choice of words. You stare at him, surprised at what you’ve just heard. You’re biting your lips, rubbing your hands, muttering calming phrases. Anything but to lash out at him… It just hurts.

“Those,” Xiao starts, noticing the shift in your behaviour. “—Those are my battles to fight.” He grabs your shoulders, making sure to look directly into your eyes. “I understand your wishes to protect me, given I reciprocate them. However… I’d rather not see you resort to violence in my stead, alright?” 

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

seriously, he was thinking of a good comeback and here you were, commenting in his stead… man, is that attractive or what? he’s so proud of you for not resorting to violence, not even noticing that you did so.

Heizou stands, a smile plastered on his lips. Gosh, there were so many good things to mention while he retaliated the stupid insults. There was no reason to resort to violence, given his thoughts on official work ethics. His eyes observe the opponent like a hawk. Looking, searching for the perfect topic to try and use to his benefit. 

What his plan does not include, is your sudden involvement. Sure, you’ve been right with him as he got read back and forth, but he truly did not consider something this minuscule would set you this off. 

“Tell me this…” You say, voice cold as you address the person who clearly doesn’t know what they’re talking about. “When did either of us ask for your opinion?” The look in your eyes is foreign to Heizou as he takes in your features. There’s this glint in them. Like you’re about to do something dumb. 

With how your opponent begins to stutter, unprepared for your outburst, you both know you’ve garnered the upper hand. They even try to back away, getting caught on your leg. Their fall is quite unfortunate — there for all to see. 

“Truly…” You roll your eyes and sigh as you lean over them. “Thank you for being a magnificent proof subject. Of evolution going backwards.” You smile, not acknowledging how insulting your comment was. “Let’s go~,” You say, turning around to link your arms with Heizou. 

It takes a while for him to say anything. He’s unsure of his feelings. On one hand, he wished to be the one to insult the person back. On the other… wow, you are so hot. And you didn’t have the need to resort to violence at the same time! Simply breathtaking. 

“Should’ve let me at ‘em,” Heizou states, pouting jokingly. “I had an even stronger comeback, babe!” 

“Good thing I stopped at words…” You mutter, your voice barely audible. Taking a deep breath, you come to a halt. Your hands instantly move upwards, poking your partner’s cheeks. “Would’ve been worse if I hadn’t had some self-restraint.” 

“Taught my love well~” He pinches your cheeks back. Grinning from ear to ear. With how he preached about being the losing party if won by using violence, he was glad you took his words to heart. 

“I mean, tripping them was the most subtle way I could’ve shown my anger. Could’ve ended with them being choked to death.” You state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

Let's just say... Heizou hopes he won't ever witness you being this angry. Especially if it's him you'd be mad at.  

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

isn’t bothered by the insults at all, since he knows who are the reliable sources for opinion of his character. doesn’t stop you from the fight, but also won’t instigate for you to do it in the first place. after all is done, if you happen to sustain any injuries, be assured he will be here to nurse you back to health. 

In your mind, you feel pathetic. To be resorting to scratching somebody else during a fight? Not to mention — getting this angry in the first place. You had absolute confidence in Kazuha standing up for himself, but something about the sheer insults thrown in his face made your blood boil. There was barely any conscience you had in your mind.

The more you feel in touch with your body, the more you freeze. Nails are digging into your palms, probably leaving crescent moon-shaped indents. You’re sure the second your second-guessing is discovered by the one who insulted your partner, you’ll become their next target. Biting your lower lip, you get up slowly to leave. 

“Are you alright, Darling?” Kazuha asks as he takes your palm in his. His voice is calm — too calm for somebody who just got insulted to the moon and back. Is he upset with you? You hope he's not. 

“Mhm…” You answer as quietly as possible. The second he squeezes your hand a little too hard in hopes of grounding you further, you feel a sudden shock of pain. You hiss at the sudden tension, your eyes tearing up. Heavens above, were you really going to cry over this?

“Oh!” He notices your discomfort, letting your hand go in an instant. “Sorry there, love.” He whispers, halting you for a second. He examines your hand, as gently as possible, finally noticing a tiny cut on your finger. “Defended me so ferociously out there, didn’t you?” He adds, smiling to himself. Kazuha places a small kiss on your finger, hoping to make it better. 

“I just— how are you not equally angry…?” You ask, eyes fixed on your hand. The feeling of being pitiful still overwhelms your body. There were about seventeen different ways you could’ve resolved the situation. “I swear, my body could boil from the rage.” 

Kazuha doesn’t answer you, at least not at first. It’s only when you return home and he’s preparing a plaster for your hand, that he speaks about the matter once more. 

“I didn’t believe a word they said,” He states, gently disinfecting your wound. “There are others, whose opinion matters more to me, rest assured, darling.” The second he notices your eyes tear again, he wipes them away. “That’s why I’m not angry. Especially at you.” 

You— Him— How—? What sort of psychic is he to know everything you thought? 

“Defend me all you wish, Love.” He says, looking at you with eyes filled with love. “I’ll nurse you to health regardless.” 

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑

so amused — it’s so refreshing to see you finally lose control. enables you to do be even more aggressive as he snickers from a safe distance. sorry, but you’re being teased for that for at least a month… 

“If you'd clench your fists, you would knock out the guy properly!” He half-whispers, embracing you from behind. With how he’s acting, he’s like a devil on your shoulder — wanting to cause as much chaos as possible. 

You raise your eyebrow, half amused-half concerned. You’re not the one who was just insulted to the moon and back, and yet your partner has nothing but a dangerous smirk on his face. Is your reaction that entertaining? Clenching your fists, you take a deep breath. Given how the situation’s looking, you’ll be the one doing the heavy lifting grounding yourself. 

“Oh, that?” You ask, tone higher as if mocking your opponent. “This was only a warning slap.” You roll your eyes, zeroed in on the person crouched on the ground, holding their cheek. Welp, it seems the time to ground yourself is not here yet. You want to try and give them a good glare, but it turns out useless as your back almost breaks with how your boyfriend is holding onto you. 

“Come on…” He tsks. “Don't leave it at a warning slap? Let’s at least knock him out!” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re really not helping,” You mutter, shifting slightly in his grip. 

“But I’m having fun,” he hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. His arms are like iron bars around your waist, keeping you close. By proxy, he’s keeping you from doing something he knows you’ll regret the second the adrenaline runs out. Even within his questionable sense of humour, there’s a part of him that knows you'll scold yourself for acting like this. Whatever this is.

The person on the ground groans, shifting his glare between you two. “Tch. Batshit crazy couple.” 

You tilt your head. “You’re the one on the floor. You have no right of speech.” Leaning back against Wanderer, you can feel his snickering at your comment. 

It doesn’t take much for your opponent to scoff and scramble up to his feet. He’s staggering and walking as quickly as possible, just in case. 

“Aw, what a shame,” Your boyfriend sighs, finally loosening his grip. “Just when it was getting interesting.” He grins, mischief oozing out, as you look him up and down — wondering how on earth, did you end up with him. “Would’ve been less interesting if you had to lift a finger, wouldn’t it?” You ask. 

“Sure would,” He teases, corners of his lips twitching upward. “Besides,” He elongates the word. “You love me regardless. As you should, by the way.” 

You huff, playfully shoving him away. “Come on, let’s go before I actually listen to you and punch someone for real.” 

date of posting — february 27th 2025

[himasgod]

ok i had a SUPER yummy request idea so hear me out. xiao x (possibly melancholic/normally calm) cryo reader with unnaturally cold skin, and they’re really unphased about it, but since most mortals he knows have warmer skin, and he keeps worrying that maybe it was his karma, or maybe they’re sick, so its just him panicking about their wellbeing😭😭😭

Xiao x Reader

Where you have naturally very cold skin, and Xiao worries about it

Where Xiao notices that your skin is very very cold, and he can't help but overthink if it's his fault, and worry about the coldness in your hands.

(Okay, this is the first time I've written in almost two months, so I really liked the result of this one!! I hope you like it too!!)

Atop the Wangshu Inn, Xiao stood in his usual spot, watching the horizon with his perpetually stoic expression. However, this time, his attention was not on the shadows lurking in the distance or the threats that could disturb the peace of the region. No.

His thoughts were on you.

Ever since he met you, there was something about you that unsettled him, though he could never quite explain it. Perhaps it was the stillness of your presence, the way the cold seemed to follow you like a second skin. Xiao had touched death countless times and knew that the cold was his inseparable companion, but in you there was not the icy embrace of death, but something different, something unnatural.

That particular night, as you stood by his side, he felt his chest burn with a restlessness that he could not quell. His gloved hand accidentally brushed yours, sending a chill down his spine. Your skin was ice-cold, far more so than should be natural for any living being.

“Are you okay?” he asked abruptly, frowning.

You gave him a calm look, tilting your head with a slight smile. “I’m fine.”

But that didn’t reassure him. Xiao had seen too many people say they were fine when in fact their fate was sealed. The weight of karma had made him distrustful of appearances, and though he didn’t quite understand human feelings, he recognized the worry within himself.

“Your skin is cold.” His voice was deep, as if he were facing an uncomfortable truth. He reached out again, hesitating for a moment before touching your wrist.

Yes, still cold. Too cold.

“It’s always been like this,” you said calmly, as if it were something insignificant.

Xiao narrowed his eyes. It didn’t make sense. You had mentioned that your affinity with your Cryo Vision was strong, but… even he, an adeptus, with his Anemo Vision and his almost immortal blood, didn’t have a body of inconstant temperature like yours. Was it possible that you were sick? Was it possible that…?

His thoughts immediately turned dark. What if it was his fault? His gaze descended to his own hands, hands that had shed too much blood, hands burdened with bad karma. Was it possible that his own corruption was affecting you in some way? That his presence was draining your life heat little by little?

“Xiao.” Your voice snapped him out of his spiral of worry. You looked at his tense expression and sighed softly. “Really. It’s nothing bad. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just like this.”

But that wasn’t enough for him.

“Humans shouldn’t have such cold skin,” he insisted in a harsher tone than he intended. Frustration. Fear. Something inside him burned, like he was on the verge of losing something before he even understood what it was.

You laughed softly, an ethereal sound in the night. “And if I told you I’m not exactly human, would that reassure you?”

Xiao blinked. It was a joke. His amber eyes scanned you intently, searching for any sign of a lie. His jaw tightened.

“…No.”

His answer was immediate. No. It didn’t reassure him. Because even if you weren’t exactly human, you were still you.

And he, Xiao, was worried about you in a way that infuriated him, that made him feel helpless. He couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t just let it go.

“So what will you do?” you asked with a hint of amusement in your tone. “Will you force me to warm up?”

It was a joke, of course, but Xiao considered it seriously for a moment. His brow furrowed further and he looked down at his own clothes, as if he was assessing how warm they would be compared to yours. Before he could do or say anything, you felt a light tug on your sleeve.

“Come.” His voice was softer now, but firm. Not an order, but not a request either.

Without a word, you followed. Xiao led you to the edge of the roof and, with his inhuman speed, descended with you to the balcony of a room in the Wangshu Inn. Inside, the warm light of a lantern illuminated the wooden walls.

“Stay here.” Xiao looked at you, his usual blank expression, but his eyes burned with something different. “I’m going to go get something.”

You watched him disappear in a flash of jade, and when he returned minutes later, he was carrying a small package wrapped in cloth. He handed it to you without saying anything.

You opened it curiously and inside you found a thick scarf of soft fabric, a deep color, with intricate embroidery. It didn't seem like something he just happened to have. You stared at him in disbelief.

"Xiao…"

"Use this." He looked away, crossing his arms as if trying to hide his discomfort. "You might not care, but I do."

For a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, you smiled, wrapping the scarf around your neck. It felt oddly comforting,

More for the gesture than for any warmth he could offer.

“Thank you, Xiao.”

He didn’t respond, but the blush at the tips of his ears was enough to give it away. And for that night, at least, Xiao could find some peace, knowing that, although he couldn’t completely dispel his concern, he could do something to show it.

[kkuzushi]

hey! could you write genshin kinich + anemo boys when you go through their phone without them knowing because you think they're cheating/just wanted to check if theyre loyal but you end up finding nothing and they catch you? thank u eheheh

Anemo boys + Kinich catching you with their phone.ᐟ

⠀✦ cw : established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, self decapration, phone contents, genderneutral!reader, partially canon compliant – 3.7k words

⠀✦ additional notes : I’m not very familiar with Kinich yet but I did my best to portray him accurately! Reader is also seen as Lumine/Aether. Please don’t mind the timestamps as well. <3

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚HEIZOUᝰ.ᐟ

Ah yes, your ever loving, doting boyfriend. Heizou is known for his natural charms and affectionate words—it’s one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place. While the two of you have set boundaries, you often wonder if his romantic side is only seen by you. Swayed by temptation and curiosity, you decide to snoop through his phone while he’s in his study. Surely that’s enough for you to find something, right?

Which is what you’d hope for—or dread for—however, as you open Heizou’s phone, you’re met with a candid picture he personally took. You told him countless times to delete it yet he never and even made it as his lockscreen wallpaper.

That should’ve been enough proof that this man is loyal, but who knows what else he could be hiding behind that lockscreen? You unlocked his phone, his homescreen wallpaper is still you but a different type of photo. This time, the scenery was also part of the image with your back turned towards the camera.

Going back on track, you start to tweak around his phone, looking to see if there’s anything off or suspicious.

After checking multiple apps—even a bit of his search history—you found absolutely nothing. You sighed in relief, but that relief was short-lived once you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“What do we have here?” Heizou hummed, peeking over your shoulder, causing you to jump and turn to face him. “Seems like I caught a thief red-handed.”

You chuckled nervously, quickly putting his phone down on the bed. “Heizou! How long have you been there?” You asked, attempting to pry away from your predicament.

Heizou grinned, crossing his arms on his chest as he leans closer to you, “Only the detective will ask questions, unless.. you want to do this the hard way?” His eyes glinted with mischief, hands preparing to tickle you before he tackled you down on the bed.

The two of you rolled around in the mattress—you trying to get away while Heizou just keeps pulling you back closer to him. Your laughter dies down to pants eventually once Heizou stops.

“Now, care to explain why you were snooping through my phone?” Heizou asks, his arms wrapped around your waist as your back is pressed against his chest.

“I just.. wanted to see if you’ve been doing things..” You answer vaguely, embarrassment creeping up on you after being caught just like that.

To that, Heizou raises an eyebrow. “Things? I do a lot of things—investigating around Inazuma, doing commissions with people, and most especially loving you.” His response was filled with lighthearted jokes yet you can sense the reassurance he’s hinting at.

You smiled, turning around to face him, you pulled him to an embrace. “I’m sorry. I trust you, Hei. I just let my curiosity get the best of me.”

He reciprocates the hug, your head resting on the crook of his neck, “No, I’m sorry. I don’t want you overthinking because of my actions, sweetheart.” He says softly, his fingers carding through your hair. “Next time, please tell me when something’s troubling you.”

You nod as you leaned to his touch, the warmth of his affections already making you forget what just transpired.

“You’re not off the hook though,” He pulls away slightly to take a look at your face. “I sentence you to a full day cuddle.. and I’ll let you look through my phone more.”

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚KAZUHAᝰ.ᐟ

What’s there to doubt about this man? Even if you dissect him, you won’t even find a single flaw. It’s like the archons used their entire blessings to create the perfect being, and your luck must be out of this world to be his significant other.

But maybe that’s why you’re having doubts. He’s too good for you, at least that’s what your mind is telling you. The fear that Kazuha might find someone better.. it’s not an uncommon thought that lingers in your mind. Now that you’re alone, your eyes are glued to Kazuha’s phone. It’s just laying on the nightstand, calling your name.

Just five minutes—that’s all you need, after that, you’ll stop this nonsense and never look through his phone again. You’ve convinced yourself enough and finally took his phone.

The first you notice is the matching wallpapers you two have set—you holding your phone taking a photo of him, and the other point of view would be your lockscreen. Not only that, but his password is your full birthday. That should’ve been enough for you to put the phone down and join your boyfriend outside, yet you didn’t.

To no avail, you found nothing to support your distressful thoughts. Guilt washes your mind after seeing the contents of Kazuha’s phone. But hey, at least you were no longer overthinking—isn’t that a good thing?

Not really, especially not when Kazuha stood by the doorway, catching you in the act before you could put away his phone. The two of you locked eyes for moment until you looked away as he approached you.

“Dearest, what are you doing with my phone?” Kazuha says in a gentle manner as he sat down on the bed beside you. You don’t answer, afraid of what he’ll think once he found out about the truth.

Suddenly, you feel his hand on top of yours. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” He coaxed, voice as gentle as his touch. You sigh, meeting his gaze once more as you prepare to explain yourself.

“I’ve been scared lately,” You prompt, the words feeling much harder to let out than it’s supposed to be. “Scared that you’ll see me the way I see myself—that I’m not enough for you.” Tears start to prick out in the corner of your eyes but you blink it away as a lump forms in your throat.

Kazuha takes your hand, your fingers intertwining together like it was made for each other. “You’ve never been anything less than enough,” he says firmly before pausing, choosing his next words carefully. “You may not see it, but to me, you are the anchor that keeps me steady amidst the tides. I’ve written countless poems trying to capture your beauty, your kindness, your strength—but none of them do you justice.”

His free hand comes up to your cheek, wiping the tears that you didn’t realize began to fall. “Please don’t carry these doubts alone. I’m here, for everything—your fears, your insecurities, and all the things you think makes you unlovable,” He murmured, pulling you closer until your foreheads are pressed against each other.

You nod, closing your eyes to let the tears fall down on its own. “Okay. I’m sorry for doubting you,” You breathed, the heavy feelings in your chest finally wearing off after a long time of carrying them.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Kazuha smiles, his thumb caressing your cheek. “But if you ever feel this way again, talk to me. Trust me to help shoulder these fears next time.”

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚KINICHᝰ.ᐟ

Having a romantic relationship with Kinich isn’t what most people would think. It might seem like you’d spend your days chasing after him, waiting endlessly for scraps of attention while he remained cool and aloof. Many would assume he’s the type to keep you at arm’s length, making you endure his detached demeanor and patient silences as though his affection was a prize to be earned.

Well, it’s actually quite the opposite. Kinich values your time as much as he values his own, which is why he makes sure to finish the job quickly and efficiently to spend quality time with you. He’s the one quietly chasing after time itself, ensuring there’s always enough of it for you. Kinich treats you in a way that people would describe as “prince/princess treatment.” You are his top priority and he isn’t afraid to show it, not that other people’s opinion matters to him anyway.

While there’s no actual downside to being in a relationship with Kinich, the only thing that stirs unease is his job—or rather, the people he encounters because of it. As his work often brings contact with others, it’s hard not to let your thoughts wander. Kinich may show unwavering loyalty but you know how people are; they’re unpredictable. You can’t always know their intention thus, allowing your insecurities to take hold of your rationality.

As he excuses himself for the day, your gaze drops to his phone, left forgotten by the counter. Your rationality starts disappearing—one quick look wouldn’t hurt, right? Just to soothe your worries, and it’s not like he’ll find out.

Before you could second guess yourself any longer, you reached for his phone and unlocked it. Kinich’s phone requires a fingerprint to open but he has yours registered as well, so surely there wouldn’t be anything bad in there?

Just as you hoped for, you found nothing to support your earlier worries. However, it seems like you’ve used up all your luck as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Kinich had spotted you right before you could put his phone back to its original place and pretend nothing had ever happened. Your eyes widened and scrambled to put the phone away as your boyfriend stepped closer.

“What were you doing with my phone, sol?” Kinich asks, putting one hand on the counter as if to corner you. You looked away, contemplating whether to deny any accusation or just simply tell the truth. His finger taps on the surface rhythmically as if he’s counting each second your silence lasts, you can feel his eyes glued to your face even when you’re looking away.

Mustering up the confidence, you finally turn to him, “Okay. Look, I just wanted to look through your phone because.. I’ve been overthinking lately. When I saw your phone I was really, really tempted to look through it.” Your words hung heavy in the air, Kinich studying your expression after your answer.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No! I mean, no.. I didn’t find anything..”

Kinich pulled you by the waist, the sudden action catching you off guard once the distance decreased between the two of you. “Exactly, there was nothing to find in the first place,” he spoke calmly, his eyes holding steady contact with yours.

“I don’t want to give you any reason to doubt me,” Kinich continues, the reassurance rolling off his tongue like he knows exactly just what to say. “But I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you than act on it like this.”

The man has a point, if snooping through his stuff becomes a habit, it’ll influence you to never communicate with him properly. You sighed, realizing the flaws of your actions. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Kinich’s gaze softens as he gives you a reassuring smile, “I understand why you felt the need to do it—but please trust me.” He gives a chaste kiss to your forehead before muttering, “And I’ll make sure there’s never a reason for you to question it again.”

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚VENTIᝰ.ᐟ

Venti has always been the playful lover throughout your entire relationship, it was never a big deal for you whenever he would go out and mess around with other people. Not even when he’s drinking, you almost found it adorable when he turns to a handful all because of his drunken haze. He made sure he kept that habit in moderation to avoid letting it get away in the relationship.

However, the mind is a stubborn place. As months passed by, you grew afraid of what might transpire when Venti’s not in the right state. You know what they say, drunk words are sober thoughts—maybe you just haven’t heard it because he’s said it to someone else. You fought and fought these thoughts until you found yourself with your lover’s phone in hand, because who knows? Maybe he’s already drunk texted someone while you’re unaware.

The thought is temporarily dispersed once you see yourself in his wallpaper—a picture of you, deep asleep in your shared bed. You smiled, but you can’t let a simple picture like that distract you. As you swipe through his phone, a passcode blocks you. Quickly, you attempted whichever comes to mind—his birthday, your birthday, yet none of it worked. But you know what did? The date of your anniversary.

Maybe this was a bad idea, but the phone’s unlocked now, so might as well carry on.

In all honesty, you felt like you got played in the most unexpected ways. His phone was full of ridiculous information that had no connection to your previous motiv. At least your curiosity was satiated.

“What you got there?” Venti beamed beside you, his voice startling you. Where did he come from?! Actually, how did you not even hear this man come into your room? Nevermind that, you’ve been caught red handed, his phone still clutched to your hand—even harder now that you almost let go of it from the fright.

“Venti! What are you– nevermind, I’m not even gonna ask,” You surrendered just as immediately, giving back his phone. Your face flushed from embarrassment, your boyfriend having the instincts of a cat despite being allergic to them.

Venti chuckled but pushed his phone to you. “You know, if you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” He says, wrapping his arms around your neck pulling you close until his head is leaning on your shoulder. “I have nothing to hide from you, windblume,” he whispers.

Your gaze softens from the unasked reassurance—the fact he can play around and set your mind at ease makes you remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. “I know that now. I’m sorry, dear,” you gently pulled him closer until the two of you were flushed against each other.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, but honestly? You almost forgot about it all because of the contact. Still, you know Venti would just bug the hell out of you if you try to brush this off.

“Let’s talk about it later, I just wanna cuddle for now.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.”

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚XIAOᝰ.ᐟ

During your anniversary, you gave Xiao a present—a phone, something he deemed useless but accepted either way. You didn’t mind at first, knowing it’ll take time for him to adjust with the advanced cellular device. It almost became a habit for you to daydream about the texts you’d someday receive from him—the constant typos, accidental calls, blurred images. Even if Xiao wasn’t one to talk so much, you know his inexperience with technology would give a good laugh.

Those wishful thoughts only lasted for a while, of course. Every once in a while, you’d see Xiao fumbling with the phone you’ve given him. You thought that maybe this is it, you’ll finally receive a few texts from him—but you never did. Your worries increased when your boyfriend’s attention was almost glued to the device. If he wasn’t using it to text you or maybe even show you what he learned, what else could he be doing?

There’s one thing you’ve noticed though. Xiao never brings his phone whenever he’s doing his duties. It occured to you that this may be an opportunity to sneak a glance and find out what he’s been up to with his phone.

Once you’ve gotten your hands on his cellular device, you went straight ahead with unlocking it—only thing is there’s no lock. You almost forgot Xiao isn’t that well versed with the mechanics of his phone, still, with the amount of time he’s usually focused with it? You’d think he already figured that out. Nonetheless, at least you don’t have to think of whatever passcode he might’ve come up with.

As you’ve opened his phone, you’re met with something shocking. His wallpaper is your picture. Are you actually seeing this correctly? How did he even get a hold of that? But then again, it doesn’t even look like you were aware that you were getting your picture taken that time. Xiao must’ve gotten this himself personally.

You almost went crazy with how little stuff there is to find in Xiao’s phone, except his photos. That was probably the only productive app in his phone, but other than that, absolutely nothing.

As you’re about to end your search for whatever you’re looking for, you noticed a figure standing in front of you just right behind the phone you’re holding. Looking up, you see Xiao.

“Oh my god!” You yelped, leaning back on the seat as Xiao’s appearance startled the hell out of you. “What were you doing just standing there?” You sighed exasperatedly, calming down the fast beating of your heart.

“You seemed engrossed with my device,” he says plainly though his eyes sparked curiousity. “Why do you have it?”

“I was checking something..” You mumbled, giving it back to him reluctantly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it without your permission.”

Xiao took the phone from you and paused. “Checking what exactly?” He turned off the device and sat beside you. He studied your expression—the way your eyes looked away, how you’d bite your bottom lip from nervousness.

“Were you thinking I’m being disloyal?” His question was so blunt, it felt like a punch. How could you even answer that? You didn’t even need to tell him anything yet he already knew.

“No, no! Not at all!” You quickly scrambled, not wanting him to think of the wrong thing. The wrong thing? Even you don’t know what that is now. “I was just.. conflicted. You never focused too much on your phone, so when I saw that, I felt.. bothered.”

Xiao visibly frowned at that, his eyes softening at your explanation, “You should’ve told me. Share your troubles with me, let me help you ease your mind.”

He gently took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers together. His eyes met yours, a rare warmth softening his typically stoic expression, melting away the worries that had been building in your chest. “And to tell you the truth…” he started, his voice quieter now, almost shy, “I’ve only been focusing on that device because I wanted to learn more about it.”

That much was obvious now, considering his wallpaper was a candid photo of you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m aware of that now… I’m sorry for invading your privacy, Xiao,” you said softly, guilt evident in your tone.

Xiao shook his head slightly. “I know why you did,” he replied. “But do ask next time.” A gentle smile appeared on his face. “I’ll let you have it anytime you want.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, the tension between you both easing. “I don’t think I will,” you teased lightly, “unless it’s to teach you more about it.”

. 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚WANDERERᝰ.ᐟ

It was actually unexpected for you to see Wanderer using his own phone. He’d often say he isn’t interested in it but then see him playing random games you wouldn’t find entertaining—but to each themselves, right?

That’s where the problem starts; the fact that Wanderer is pretty secretive with his own device causes you to rouse up different possibilities. Is he talking to someone else there? Maybe he got photos of other girls? Otherwise, why else would he deny you of taking a peek through his phone?

Since your stubborn resolve wouldn’t back down, you decided to take a quick detour around the few apps he has downloaded. However, Wanderer’s device required a face recognition to unlock. Being the genius that you are, you angled the phone to a picture you have of Wanderer.

It worked, obviously, not like that man changes his appearance everyday. Once the phone opened, a picture of you and Wanderer appeared, just the two of you goofing around. Maybe this is why he didn’t want you seeing his phone.

“Enjoying yourself there?” Wanderer’s voice rang out behind you, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn’t even celebrate after finding nothing, already caught by your boyfriend who’s leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed.

You turned around to meet him, imitating his pose. “You looked through every app, didn’t you?” He grinned, walking right up to you.

“Of course I looked,” you didn’t even deny it, you’re already caught in the act anyway. “You’re so secretive about your phone, it’s like a holy grail or something!” You rolled your eyes.

Wanderer hummed, amused at how you’re being truthful. “Did you find something scandalous then?” He teased, clearly just to get under your skin. “A hidden lover perhaps?”

You bit your lip, caught off guard. “I–well–no, not really,” you stammered, recalling the endless items that pointed to you. “But why hide all of that from me?”

He sighed and plucked the device from your hands. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?” you echoed, frowning as you crossed your arms. “You’ve been acting so secretive about it, how was I supposed to know it wasn’t something shady? You made it seem like you were hiding a dark secret or something.”

Wanderer tilted his head, his expression equal parts amused and exasperated. “A dark secret? You really thought I’d have the energy to maintain something like that?”

He looks at his phone for a moment then back to you. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, though—digging through my phone, desperately trying to find something worth fussing over,” he drawled, his lips curling into a smirk. “Only to realize it’s just you. Everywhere.”

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing down at his smug expression. “Well, maybe if you didn’t act so suspicious, I wouldn’t have felt the need to check.”

His smirk widened as he leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. “But at least now you know what I’ve been ‘hiding.’ Satisfied?”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “For now. But next time, just let me look, okay?”

“Next time, try trusting me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to his words.

“Trust goes both ways, Wanderer,” you said, raising a brow.

“That’s ironic,” he conceded, shaking his head with a small laugh. “If you pull another stunt like this, I might increase the security of my phone.”

“Like that’d stop me,” you challenged with a grin.

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This work is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[4barbatos]

✦ dad!venti x mom!reader drabbles

— fluff + crack .ᐟ

a/n: aaaaa i enjoyed writing this so much TT one of the drabbles is actually based on a request from one of u guys (ILY!!!) but the prompts wouldn’t leave me alone. they just kept bouncing around in my brain like “write me. write me.” and i folded immediately.

i don’t think this’ll be the last time i write about this version of venti because oh my GOD. dad(dy) venti brainrot has me in a chokehold. like. help. might spiral and write a whole mini-series if y’all let me 😵‍💫

also this one’s in a modern setting !! but still has some genshin themes — like venti still being an archon bc i am not letting go of that man’s godhood LMAO. timeline?? logic?? never heard of her. anyway sorry if this is messy my brain is fried 💔

thank u for the love, the requests, and the patience <3 u guys keep me inspired even when life (school) is body slamming me in the face.

freshly delivered betrayal

you were exhausted.

sweaty, sore, shaking from adrenaline, body still catching up to the fact that you’d just given birth. the world was still a little fuzzy at the edges when the nurse gently placed your newborn on your chest, tiny and warm and squirmy.

your breath hitched. tears welled in your eyes as you looked down at him —

and then you blinked.

paused.

frowned.

“…why the fuck are his eyes glowing.”

“venti,” you said slowly, voice flat, “why are his eyes glowing.”

across the room, venti was openly sobbing into an anemo slime plush he’d brought in “for emotional support.” he sniffled dramatically, cheeks shiny with tears.

“he’s so beautiful 🥺”

“THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER.”

you tilted your newborn slightly toward him, finger jabbing gently at your son’s face.

“his irises are literally glowing. bioluminescent. mint green. sparkling. like a lantern. what did you do.”

venti tiptoed over like a guilty dog caught chewing the curtains.

“he just… looks a little like me, that’s all—”

“a little??”

you looked back down at the baby.

same eye shape. same impossibly long lashes. same little button nose. same stupid smug smile that somehow managed to exist on a minutes-old infant.

he blinked up at you slowly, glowing eyes twinkling like he already knew something you didn’t.

“oh my god,” you muttered, head thudding back against the pillow. “i suffered through nine months of nausea and joint pain and demonic pregnancy cravings just for this child to come out looking like your tiny clone.”

venti practically preened. “right??? he’s perfect. he’s a masterpiece. he’s my greatest song come to life—”

“no. no poetry. not while he’s still steaming fresh from the womb.”

the baby yawned.

a breeze gently rustled the ends of your hair.

“did he just—” you turned slowly to look at venti.

“minor atmospheric shift,” he said with a dreamy smile. “nothing dangerous. probably.”

you closed your eyes in defeat.

“i need him to wear contacts immediately.”

milk crimes

you were half-asleep on the couch, baby snoozing peacefully on your chest, when venti tiptoed in with the most suspicious expression known to man.

his eyes darted around like he was about to commit a federal offense.

you cracked one eye open. “…what are you doing.”

“nothing,” he said way too fast. “just checking on my beautiful wife and her beautiful child and her…” his gaze dropped an inch lower. “beautiful… assets.”

you gave him the look.

he smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “you look full.”

“i am.”

“painful?”

“not really,” you muttered, adjusting your shirt. “just heavy.”

he plopped down beside you, hands neatly folded in his lap. “i could help.”

you squinted. “you mean like—”

“to relieve you,” he said, putting on his innocent bard voice. “out of love. and generosity. and public service.”

“venti.”

“just a few sips—”

“venti.”

“i promise to burp afterwards.”

“GET. OUT.”

he ducked your throw pillow like a pro and grinned as he scampered away.

“the offer stands!!”

you sighed and looked down at your baby.

“don’t grow up weird like your dad,” you whispered.

‘ho’ly baby

the thing about having a baby is you hear a lot of nonsense.

gurgles. squeals. high-pitched shrieks. the occasional babble that sounds dangerously close to profanity. you’ve learned to tune most of it out — smile, nod, survive — until today.

“ho,” your baby says, looking you dead in the eye.

you blink. slowly. “…what did you just call me?”

venti, traitor of all traitors, gasps like he’s been struck by celestia itself.

“OH ARCHONS—”

he’s on the floor. sobbing. wheezing. clutching his stomach like he’s been impaled by a divine spear. the baby giggles. claps his chubby hands and says it again — “ho!” — and venti actually screams.

you stare in horror. “maybe he meant hello—”

“HE’S A GENIUS,” venti howls, now fully writhing. “MY SON’S FIRST WORD WAS HO.”

you’re half tempted to throw a throw pillow at his face. maybe a lamp. maybe the baby.

you scoop your son into your arms. “no. no. we say mama. not… ho.”

he blinks at you. pure innocence. then opens his tiny mouth and goes:

“ho.”

venti lets out a sound that can only be described as feral wind-chime laughter. he’s howling so hard the picture frames are rattling. you’re genuinely concerned he might pass out from joy.

(it took hours to calm everyone down.)

that night, while rocking the baby to sleep, he mumbles something against your collarbone — soft and slow and sleepy.

“dada.”

you freeze. slowly turn your head to where venti is standing, slack-jawed in the doorway.

he floats two inches off the ground for the rest of the week.

you need a nap. and a new baby. one that doesn’t already have his father’s entire personality copy-pasted into his dna.

childless hours

“can you hear that…”

venti murmured from his perch on the kitchen counter, one leg swinging idly as he tilted his head like a curious little bird.

you froze mid-step, blinking at him from the hallway.

“…hear what?”

he closed his eyes dramatically.

“…nothing.”

you furrowed your brows.

“…oh.”

nothing. no crying. no cartoons. no rattling toys or lullabies from the baby monitor. just… silence.

venti cracked one eye open and grinned at your expression.

“we could literally do anything.”

you raised a brow.

“anything?”

“nap,” he said, counting on his fingers. “eat snacks without hiding. walk around naked. have sex in the kitchen—”

“venti.”

“what? i’m brainstorming.” he slid off the counter, walking over with a cheeky little bounce in his step. “you’re the one who said anything.”

you sighed, already feeling your resolve slipping under the weight of his grin.

“we were gonna clean out the closet.”

“the closet will still be there,” he said sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “but this silence? this glorious, blessed silence? she may never return…”

you squinted at him. “you’re so dramatic.”

“and yet…” he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, “you’re still about to get on the table.”

your mouth twitched. he was right.

“…fine,” you muttered, hands already sliding up his shirt. “i’m getting on the table.”

venti beamed, practically vibrating.

“best day ever.”

first day blues

you tried everything. his favorite outfit (the one with little anemo swirl patches). his lunchbox packed with windwheel apple slices and star-shaped cookies. even the “you’re so brave” speech — the one that usually worked during dentist appointments and dark rooms.

but your son was currently a sobbing mess in the living room, face smushed into your shoulder, tiny fists clutching your hoodie like he’d never let go.

“but mamaaaaa i don’t wanna go to schoo— 😭😭😭”

you hadn’t even had coffee yet. your back hurt. and your heart? obliterated.

venti knelt beside you, trying his best to help without crying himself.

“don’t you wanna make new friends? show them your wind trick?”

“NO.”

“what if you bring mr. bard bear with you? he’s brave, right?”

“NOOOO!!!”

venti glanced at you helplessly, and you gave him the go ahead, bring out the big guns nod.

he leaned in, voice gentle.

“what if i give you one of mama’s special cookies?”

your son sniffled.

“…two?”

he paused.

venti gasped, clutching his chest.

“negotiator… just like his dada…”

somehow — somehow — you managed to peel him off your chest, bribe him into the car, and drop him off in his new classroom. you watched through the glass window as he sat at the tiny desk, eyes still watery but clutching mr. bard bear like a battle buddy.

you and venti didn’t even speak on the walk back to the car. it wasn’t until you both sat down and the silence settled that it hit.

“this is bad,”

you whispered, staring straight ahead.

venti looked pale.

“i think i’m gonna puke.”

“i miss my babyboy,”

you sobbed, dragging your hoodie sleeve across your cheek.

“i wanna go back and steal him.”

“we should’ve homeschooled.”

“we don’t even know math.”

“i’ll learn it!! for him!!”

you ended up crying in the car together for twenty minutes — full-on emotional meltdown, heads pressed together, tears blending. you probably looked feral to anyone walking by.

eventually, his teacher came outside with a small smile and a thumbs-up.

“he’s doing great,” she said gently. “he made a friend already. and he shared his cookies.”

venti sniffled.

you clutched his hand.

“our boy is so brave,” you whispered.

venti wiped his face. “we did so good.”

sick day cyclone

you were hoping it was just allergies.

it had to be allergies.

but then your baby sniffled, sneezed — and the entire living room turned into a category five wind cyclone.

“OH MY GOD, NOT AGAIN—”

you yelled, ducking just in time as a baby sock flew past your head and slapped itself to the wall like it had a vendetta.

the baby giggled. another sneeze. the curtain rod snapped in half.

venti came sprinting into the chaos, towel slung around his waist, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth like a war whistle. his hair was dripping. his eyes took in the scene.

“…is the baby sneezing cyclones again?”

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE HE’S NOT?”

your toddler hiccuped — and summoned a tiny tornado that sucked up three pacifiers, a juice box, and one of your houseplants. the couch moved. you were gripping the baby gate like it was a lifeboat.

venti calmly walked into the storm, scooped the baby into his arms mid-gale, and swaddled him into a blanket burrito like a seasoned wind mage dad.

“poor little stormcloud,” he said softly, brushing his fingers through wild curls. “guess we’re not going to daycare today.”

you stared at the overturned furniture. your hair was sticking up. your coffee was gone. the plant was rotating gently in the corner.

“…NO SHIT.”

daddy behavior

it started with a toy being thrown.

then the rug got flipped.

now there were three mini-tornadoes spinning around the living room like some kind of cursed carousel, and your child — your terrifying, smug little wind god of a child — was sitting in the center of it all like he was preparing to ascend to celestia.

you were on the couch. exhausted. defeated. trying to drink your coffee while your living room got obliterated.

venti walked in, towel around his neck, hair damp from a shower. he paused at the door, took one look at the absolute storm zone, and sighed like he aged ten years on the spot.

“enough.”

his voice was low. calm. but firm. like thunder muffled by clouds. not loud, not angry — just heavy.

the wind dropped instantly.

your son froze mid-giggle, eyes wide, like he’d just been personally called out by the anemo archon (which, technically, he had). one of the mini tornados fizzled mid-spin and dropped a throw pillow with a pathetic little thud.

venti stepped into the wreckage slowly. not mad — just serious. the kind of quiet that meant: you’ve gone too far, little guy.

“we don’t throw storms when we’re upset,” he said gently, crouching down in front of him. “you have your words. use them.”

your toddler looked up at him with the world’s tiniest pout.

“but i—”

“i know,” venti said, softening. “i know, baby. but it’s not safe. and mama is tired. do you see the mess?”

your son blinked. glanced around the room like he was just now realizing he may have caused a small-scale natural disaster. his mouth wobbled.

“…sowwy…”

venti opened his arms. “come here, little stormcloud.”

your son launched himself into his chest like a comet.

venti caught him, lifted him easily, held him close — pressing a soft kiss to his hair.

“no more tornados today, okay?”

“…mkay…”

then he looked at you over his shoulder, smiling with that sweet, windswept softness that made your knees weak.

“wind crisis averted,” he said.

you blinked.

you put your coffee down. very slowly.

“…don’t talk to me right now.”

venti blinked.

“huh? why?”

you fanned yourself with your hand, cheeks hot. sweating.

“because i’m extremely turned on and our child is right there.”

venti flushed red, nearly dropping your son.

“o-oh. i see. um. bedtime is in two hours—”

“i need you to stop talking immediately.”

archons help you.

caught in 4k (by a toddler)

you and venti were just sitting on the couch.

your son was asleep. the apartment was clean for once. and venti — lounging in a loose hoodie with messy curls and that lazy, lopsided smirk that practically begged to be kissed — looked good.

so you kissed him.

you were halfway into your fifth kiss — straddling his lap, fingers tangled in his hair, venti making those soft, whiny sighs he always did when he was losing his mind over you — when the bedroom door creaked open.

you both froze.

dead silence.

then came a very small, very confused voice from the hallway:

“mama… are you eating dada’s face?”

you screamed.

venti made an unholy choking sound.

you launched yourself off his lap like the guilty heathens you were, nearly knocking over a throw pillow in the process.

your toddler stood there, sleepy-eyed, holding his plushie by one ear like it had just seen horrors. he blinked slowly.

“…why were you sitting on his tummy?”

venti, still red-faced and dazed, whispered hoarsely,

“wind… take me now…”

you slapped a hand over your face.

“baby, it’s—we were just—”

“adult stuff,” venti croaked.

“yes,” you said quickly. “very boring adult stuff.”

your child tilted his head, still suspicious.

“like taxes?”

you and venti locked eyes.

“…sure,” you said.

he frowned. “i don’t like taxes.”

“same,” venti mumbled.

you sighed, got up, and scooped your son into your arms.

“okay, little stormcloud. back to bed.”

he nestled against your shoulder, yawning.

“mama… don’t eat dada again, okay? he looked scared.”

venti let out a small dying noise behind you.

you didn’t stop laughing for the next ten minutes.

three peas in a chaotic pod

sunday morning in the windblume household looked like this:

venti in an oversized hoodie, hair sticking out in all directions. you in mismatched pajamas and fuzzy socks. your son in the middle of the living room, wrapped in a blanket like a dramatic little burrito, yelling “I AM WORM” for no apparent reason.

“should we be concerned?”

you asked, sipping coffee from your world’s-best-mama mug.

venti was lying on the floor next to your son, chin propped on his hands.

“nah. this behavior builds character.”

“he’s been rolling around yelling for ten minutes.”

“ah, so you do see the family resemblance.”

you raised a brow. “you mean your family. i was a normal child.”

venti gasped. “a boring child, you mean.”

your toddler suddenly flopped over onto venti’s back and went,

“wiggle wiggle worm!!”

venti immediately started flailing in sync.

“AAAA HE’S TRANSFORMING—HE’S BECOME A SUPER WORM—”

you put your mug down and sighed, grinning.

“i married an archon. i gave birth to a demigod. and somehow, i’m still the only adult in this house.”

“technically i’m over two thousand years old,” venti said from the floor.

“and mentally seven.”

“mentally seven and a half, thank you.”

you rolled your eyes and dropped down beside them, gently tugging your son out of his burrito blanket and into your arms. he squealed and clung to you immediately.

venti rolled over and rested his head on your lap, letting out a soft, content sigh.

“best seat in the house.”

your son crawled up and squished himself between you both, tiny hands patting your cheeks.

“mama pretty. dada stinky.”

venti gasped. “you traitor.”

“i win,” you hummed.

you didn’t get much done that day — laundry was forgotten, dishes piled up, and your to-do list went untouched — but you did get exactly what you needed:

a full heart. a warm couch. and your two favorite people tangled up beside you, giggling like it was the only thing that mattered.

…because it was.

a/n: OMG i posted this without the actual part that was requested 😭 i think i accidentally deleted it while cutting a drabble last minute (congrats to the three people who saw it before it got removed LMAOOO). anyway !! the original request was from @astronomerzin tysm for putting this idea in my head 🙏 ily fr TT i had so much fun writing it and i’m definitely gonna do more dada venti x mama reader stuff soon heh <3

[refeverie]

only with you.

angst & comfort. gn!reader × wanderer. wc 1.7k

summary. non-sexual nudity & intimacy; body painting with flowers; recollection of past events (wanderer)

sumeru is a dualistic region. where knowledge and reincarnation richly seep through every concept there is, it would still not exist without any ignorance, nor destruction. one needs another to thrive. 

wanderer himself is a dual man—a human being without an organic heart yet a puppet with feelings. somebody, who had multiple names throughout. somebody, who once had a mother; friends. somebody, who was given a midway place in this world across his journey. as a wanderer, he is said to have no name, kin, or destination.

maybe there is a definite reason for him to spend the majority of his time in sumeru after all. as he originated from inazuma, a land of isolated eternity, spent years at the claws of the notorious nation of snezhnaya and—seeking his ascension to godhood, eventual prosperity, and validation at last—was forced into flimsy redemption in sumeru.

wanderer self-destructed his ignorance to reincarnate it as full of knowledge; to shape his existence anew. all of this for him to question himself and suffer the same.

the sacred tree of the world—irminsul—answered the questions he always sought and yet, he was betrayed once again. wisdom is a heavy burden with a great cost; it could be one’s demise. ignorance to him was, indeed, a bliss. as well as oblivion, which he was stripped of in a little of a while. 

since the day he had to relive his entire lifetime in a minute and earned an anemo vision in the process, the world around him changed. in fact, he met you, who made a significant change to his demeanor. wanderer may not be the best companion there is, however, you both always seek each other in a crowd. even if there is none of it.

the sunset is pretty today, you think as you immerse yourself up to the chin into the lukewarm water underneath the waterfall of gandharva ville. wanderer remained apart from you for a while. he was hesitant. he may have a synthetic body of a puppet, but being stark naked in front of you felt way too vulnerable by his nature. it felt like cutting himself open and letting himself go free.

he was never free to begin with. freedom to each is a different concept. the day the god of eternity sealed his power and hid him like a failure of hers, followed by letting him roam free, he chained his mind to different intentions of ei’s. he felt neglected and deprived of who he was meant to be—not knowing he was a mere prototype, never designed to hold and wield the electro gnosis; whose existence was about to be terminated right before they saw him cry in his sleep—rather than free.

he had no given name nor a home to get back to at the end of the day. so, naturally, when fatui took him under their wings, he felt that being the sixth seat was his rightful place. 

there were many kind people in his early ordinary days of learning how to be human between the time he was discarded and given the title of the balladeer. your way of carrying yourself immensely reminds him of them all. sometimes it can be agonizing to wanderer, but lovely just the same. he reacts to your eyes, inviting him to join you bathing in the stream while the sun slowly sets. 

erstwhile clear water, due to the reflection of the sky, is dyeing itself in colors of yellow, orange, violet, and pink. the river takes its appearance like the flower field around you at once. 

as wanderer takes his clothes off, he is quickly submerging himself into and under the water. it is shallow, so you can swiftly reach his side. you have qualms about whether he would let you come closer, despite that, you carefully stretch your hands towards his shoulders. you sit him up. he has a lot on his mind lately, thus, he lets you take care of him without thinking much. to tell the truth, he trusts you to a great extent, knowing you would catch him if he fell—literally and figuratively. 

you pluck a lone flower from the floral field. it is greenish blue, or rather turquoise, in color. one would rarely see it blossom. the color reminds you of wanderer’s tattoos’ when they glow with power.

you slowly trace them with luminous petals, so it leaves dye markings; barely visible, but you both know it’s there nevertheless. it is a silly activity yet remarkably intimate for either. he does not feel skin contact the same as everyone else, regardless, he gets chills from your delicate brushes.

somehow you do not care about him being born unhuman at all. maybe because in your mind he is the most human one could be—cruel and all the things beautiful at the same time; imperfect. 

you offer him another flower of your favorite color, for him to paint on your bare body as well. he is skeptical, however, it takes only a moment to engage in the act. you shiver every time he tries touching you softly. neither of you talk. 

you warily touch his face then. the pink rose in your frail grip is kissing his cheeks, and nose, consciously avoiding his pursed lips as well as eyes, which are dyed burgundy anyways. the color was indeed deliberately chosen to imitate a blush of sorts. you thought it was cute. 

he is feeling your skin alongside, attentively selecting parts of your body you would be fine with; giving your consent to. it does vary how you react.

you reach for his chest subsequently, holding a flower of opaque red. you are faltering while drawing something. at that moment, he stops his own tracery and retracts his arm further from you; stays still. you painted a little heart on his chest. likewise, you keep looking at it in silence, smiling. 

it was a heart he was able to call his own. 

he remembers. puppet he is, abandoned by the almighty shogun for being overly human, but used as a tool by fatui ever since. in no way they saw a human—whereas he could not die and had an empty space of a heart. how can one be a human being without a heart? his existence contradicted itself in that sense.

as a harbinger, did he become more human then? when a tainted heart he got from the doctor saved him, it was offered to him in the form of the ashes to have in that empty shell of a place. at first, he did not know it was niwa's; that same withered one he discarded after condemning the entire incident as his second betrayal of cruel mankind nature. a human heart he yearns for is not worth the pain of another person’s death. 

afterward, he sought a gnosis to take that place instead. his luck was one of a kind really. the contentment he became so familiar with, was short-lived in the end. it was not a real heart anyhow. can the anemo vision he recently acquired serve as his vital core replacement?

each time he came into possession of a fill-in for a heart, someone else had to suffer. merely this time, he actually felt you blessed him with a heart he could be endowed without any anguish. he put his singular hand up to his chest and held it pressed. he was fond of his ephemeral heart. 

you slowly but surely grasp his fingers. the puppet joints over the years looked almost seamless. it evidently looked human-like. you cautiously brush your lips against his knuckles, meeting his violet-blue eyes. do they twinkle—was it mirroring the stirring water on second thought? 

promptly, the serene moment of yours is interfered. you turn your head to unfamiliar hushed tones and humming. there pop up a few heads of plant-like forest spirits. you notice wanderer is gifted to see them as well. 

aranaras are critters, only to be seen by trustworthy dreamers of pure and kind hearts. it is a mystery really—wanderer’s ability to spot them. is he, not a doll without a heart; can he be regarded as good-natured; is he to be trusted… he is not a child either (but acting like one every once in a while). 

thereafter, wanderer stretches his hand toward a bright blue-colored creature, holding a yellow poppy. flowers help aranaras remember their friends whenever they meet. besides, they gain power from memories. do the spirits of sumeru forests lay hold of dreadful recollections as well? wanderer is brimful of them. 

after a while, wanderer looks in your direction. he is deep in thought at the moment, pondering who exactly he is. he does understand the concept of being human pretty well, yet he does have uncertainties about whether he can call himself one, partially at least. he did give up trying to be human in the distant past, though, he had experienced pieces of being human underway—having emotions, enduring pain, having a heart of some form, a place to live, a region to serve, people he called family, and a name. 

truthfully, he had a myriad of names; words he was called by others. he never deemed them his names frankly. nonetheless, he loved himself as kabukimono—the dolly wandering eccentric, perceived as naive and peculiar. deep inside he knows he did not stray far from his roots, it was simply eclipsed by the wounds of his past. 

he did name himself kunikuzushi, the world-destroyer once. alongside was given titles of the balladeer and scaramouche. it should be mentioned that whilst no man on teyvat recalls it being him—he was formerly known as the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom; shouki no kami, the prodigal, too. 

attempting erasure of himself, including rectifying past events that his existence, and rage-driven deeds caused, wanderer reincarnated into someone as curious as the young kabukimono. he opted for calling himself a wanderer. was he an eccentric one this time on top of that? at the end of the day, it all comes full circle. 

at present, he does go by a freshly given name, restraining himself with a new psyche all while making an effort to atone for his sins. he accepted his birth, not to mention, the entirety of his past. 

he looks all around his own porcelain-like skin, currently dyed with multiple colors. it tugs at his heartstrings. he does glance at your body then, admiring the art, positioned in front—meaning you, not the mindless drawings of flowers’ pigments on your figure. 

hence, he finally feels like he has reached the promised divinity. only whenever he is with you.

(part two)

[pinkheartist]

Imagine the SAGAU with Mitsuri! Reader? :3 (Part one?)

TW: mentions of Eating disorder, but mostly fluff and comfort. OCC characters??? Idk

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You’re self-aware of how much you truly eat, it’s not your fault, really! But when it comes to your favorite characters, you can’t help but feel a little insecure about it. You already had problems with that in the past, the feeling of people constantly judging the amount of food you ate was stuck in your mind and others saying that you had the appetite of a dragon wasn’t nice to your confidence. What if they start to appreciate you less as the almighty creator? would they be disgusted by this habit of yours?

With that possibility in mind, you reprimed your appetite and stuck to the plan of eating as few as possible, sometimes not even eating half of the plate they would offer to you properly. You really thought no one would notice? truly naive of you. They first thought you didn’t like the food, but after noticing your eyes glimmering and your mouth watering at the food before you shake your head and refuse it, they realized it was more complex than just a matter of personal taste.

Ei was the first to take the initiative alongside Nahida to try and talk to you about it. She may seem intimidating, but deep inside there is still a golden heart lying behind her stoic face. With a bit of persistence from Nahida’s part, they managed to get answers from you. The Electro and Dendro Archons comforted you, Ei gave you a portion of Kuki’s famous chocolate chip cookies that she bought, this was the best she could do since her cooking was awful, and Nahida affirmed that no matter how big your appetite was, they would still love you as their creator no matter what. They both wipe your tears away after you cry from relief, that the possibility of them shaming you from who you are never came…

The other Archons also joined the party. When you said you had the appetite of a dragon, Zhongli was left confused until you told him what it meant (He’s a little too literal). “There is nothing to be ashamed about. Your enormous strength must come from eating a bigger amount of food, right? Then, you should continue eating as much as you like. Don’t waste your ability to hear on those pesky little comments on your body, you are absolutely perfect in my point of view, Your Grace” The Geo dragon said, and trust me when i say that he would personally throw his polearm at the person who even thought of looking at you the wrong away while you eat at least 3 plates of (favorite meal)

If you said you would get heavy if you eat so much, Venti would use his Anemo powers to make you fly, seeing you smile from the fun you were having was like a Cupid’s arrow striking right in his heart (again). “See? You’re light enough for the wind to carry you, so I don’t want to hear you calling yourself heavy again. You are very much deserving of compliments, more then you think you are! I assure you that” Venti demanded after safely putting you down. “But-” “No buts!” Venti interrupted you before you could say any nonsense about yourself. As the self-proclaimed most devoted and loyal Archon you had, he would never bring himself to let you put yourself down like that

Furina did the best she does to make your feel better: Put up the best of her performances to take even the slightest of the smiles off from you. You can’t say it didn’t worked, the show was amazing! And after the show, Furina offered you a piece of (favorite flavour) cake that she brought from the best bakery there is on Fontaine, along with some macarronis made by herself and tea. “I’m banning any degradetive words with the slightest reference to you, and that rule also will apply to you!“ she exclamed “M-Me?“ You stuttered “Yes! Such blasphemy about the magnificent divine shoudn’t leave from any person’s mouth, specially when you’re the one doing it“ Her blue eyes softened as getting lost on yours “...Don’t say such things about yourself, it breaks my heart to see you blinded by insecurety, not seeing how stunning you are..“

Mavuika was surprised by the way you honestly described yourself. Of course, she did expected you to be humild on your own description, but not so lowly to the point you compare yourself to a monster, and for what? For eating 3 more than proper meals everyday plus a ton snacks? That’s ridiculous!! who put that thought on your head? She’ll hunt this person like there is no tomorrow. But jokes aside, “Hey, it’s not something you can exactlly control, can you? Everybody works differently. And your apitite is something unique, a thing that difies you from the rest, in a good way!“ she ruffles you hair, grinning widely at your flustered expression “Plus, the way you get so excited over the diverse cusines around Teyvat, and your eating face are the most adorable thing in the world!“

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Ummmmm…Yeah, srry if it’s bad i haven’t write for a century. If you’d like me posting more of those, please let me know :3 Baiii ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

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