#mujimade

[minimujina]

you make me so nervous !

sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche x f!reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. reader has a dendro vision, and when you get flustered or injured your powers go crazy :0

ᴄᴡ. sickeningly sweet fluff, wanderer is given a name, wanderer’s is a bit different than the other two so specific warnings are right before his, ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!

heizou had never met someone so easy to read in all his days of observing people.

the mere presence of the detective seemed to fluster you impossibly—and your dendro vision would react in accordance, much to your dismay.

take the time that you decided to go for a mid-morning walk—something you didn’t usually do. you were looking for easy ways to change things up, bored of the stagnancy that so often came with a rigid schedule.

upon seeing you, the detective was surprised, since he knew that you were usually in your garden at this time of day. he shrugged it off, though, approaching you eagerly. and i’m not saying that he had the intention of frightening you, but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

“my dear sweetflower!” heizou exclaimed, startling you with an obnoxious poke on the shoulder. sweetflower was an endearing nickname he’d come up with when he first met you. “what brings you here at this fine hour?”

mischief and arrogance seemed to just seep from his voice. but still, he was a good friend to you, and a good person. just a bit of a bastard.

you gave a loud yelp and a flinch—he had to steady you with his arms amidst good-natured laughter to keep you from smacking him.

after you’d calmed down and he stopped laughing, heizou noticed something peculiar and novel: flowers had begun to bloom in your hair. by the time heizou had released you from his grasp, the mess atop your head had become more than abundant with clusters of posies.

you were none the wiser, since you were too busy trying to sort out your muddled thoughts—but heizou brought the issue to your attention with a silvery hum and a grin, reaching behind your ear to pluck a single leaf from its vine.

“did i scare you that much, dear?” the detective’s voice was teasing, but kind, and his smile more than reached the marks under his eyes. he was clearly amused at this predicament of yours.

the next time, however, had nothing to do with you being startled. you simply took notice of heizou in the distance—and the next thing you knew, flowers were sprouting up like weeds all around you. the detective hadn’t spotted you, though, so you bunched up as many of the fresh sumeru roses and sweetflowers in your little arms as you could, scurrying away in a panic.

ever since then, this problem persisted relentlessly. you’d learned to control it more with time, but every chance encounter with the detective spelled your inevitable embarrassment—at least one plant would spring up somewhere in the vicinity, and more often than not it would be in your own hair. heizou honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it—he might have been good at discerning motives and teasing out evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t unravel your seemingly complex feelings about him.

it was the beginning of the end when the detective stumbled upon a peculiar path of flowers and droopy vines. it was painfully obvious that they did not belong there among the sakura, and heizou had a feeling that he knew just who the culprit was.

after following the trail for no more than a few minutes, he was confronted with an amusing sight—you, sprawled on the ground, snarled in the sheer abundance of plants that seemed to have tripped you. he wondered what you’d been running from that made you so afraid.

heizou flashed you a smug smile, but he leaned over to lend a hand anyways. and yet, more flowers sprouted to shroud you from his view, as if tucking you away. but the glimpse of fear he’d seen in your eyes was enough for him to finally come to a conclusion—it was him you had been running from.

but.. you weren’t scared of him. this he knew.

you liked him.

oh, what an ego boost this was for shikanoin heizou.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “oh, my little sweetflower, you can come out now—i know about your little crush on me, so there’s no need to keep running away.”

when you made no move to emerge, heizou smiled to himself. of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“love,” he mused, “what i’m saying is that i—“

suddenly, heizou’s throat tightened. it came out of nowhere; he was so confident when he started, and this went so smoothly in his head. so why did his tongue suddenly feel so heavy? why did his chest burn the way it did?

it took the detective a moment to collect himself—he found it difficult to quell the sudden thought that maybe he liked you even more than he realized.

deep breaths, detective.

“what i mean to say is..”

another deep breath, heizou.

“i find you rather.. endearing.”

he cleared his throat, unconsciously stuffing his hands in his pockets. oh, if only he could see himself—he was being so obvious that even an amateur could see right through him.

“well, that is—i like you.”

he hadn’t meant to say it so plainly, but it seemed that his words, however hesitant they were, gave you the push of courage you needed.

the flowers parted ever so slightly to reveal your eyes again, less terror-filled, though still quite shaken.

but what was most surprising was the detective’s expression—you caught it for only a split second, but it was there. his eyes were blown wide, as if he were incredulous with himself. but a whimsical grin that could fool anyone quickly replaced all evidence of that uneasiness.

“…really?” you whispered, voice thinned and small, as if you’d swallowed your confidence.

a baffling, earnest sincerity crept into heizou’s expression—of all the times he’d been able to conceal his true feelings, this was not one of them.

“really.” his response was firm, his gaze softer than it had ever been.

“and..” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at the detective. “…you aren’t bothered by the whole…flower thing?”

heizou laughed mirthfully—“why would i be?”

under the cover of your plants, you fiddled with the petals of a sumeru rose as you spoke. “i don’t know.. it’s just embarrassing, is all. i thought it was overbearing.”

“oh, dear,” heizou tutted. “was it blatantly obvious? yes, yes it was”—your expression turned sheepish—“but overbearing? you? never.”

heizou reached out to part the sea of plants away from your face so that he could properly see you, letting one hand linger to lift your chin. “ah, there’s my lovely girl,” he grinned. “now, let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

and with that, your shaky little hand emerged to place itself in heizou’s steady palm, and he pulled you up, watching as the leaves and florets spilled all around your form like water.

and for once, heizou had nothing to say. all he could think about was the feeling of your small hand in his own, and how beautiful you looked in that moment. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the long-departed goddess of flowers herself.

heizou very promptly decided that he could not tolerate the way his heart was acting. no, no, no, it was simply out of character. you were the one who was supposed to be flustered—not shikanoin heizou, the tenryou commission’s top detective, a young and brilliant genius whom nothing could unnerve.

the detective tugged you forward suddenly, fastening his hands around your waist as he stooped down—but he froze just before he reached your lips. he seemed to study you, admiring the brightness in your eyes, the dancing reflection of sunlight.

“wanna make out?” he asked out of the blue, a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

what you wanted was to slap him for his god-awful sense of humor.

but also yes, you did want to make out.

you decided to make this very clear by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and just making the move yourself for once. from the way he smiled into your lips, your intuition told you that he liked your spontaneous impatience.

when albedo discovered that his own presence regularly caused your vision to malfunction, his curiosity surrounding you became insatiable.

he would hum, stepping around you in a measured circle while he observed the various flowers that had sprouted from your vision. a thick vine had found itself stuck to the surface of your vision, almost as if it were trapped in the glass, not fully emerged. it trailed all the way to the ground of albedo’s workshop, branching off into more vines with sweet flowers, roses, and all sorts of pretty blossoms.

“how peculiar,” the alchemist murmured. “i’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

yeah, me neither, you wanted to mumble and grouch, but you settled for a subtle pout instead.

albedo hummed thoughtfully again before completing a full circle around you, coming to face you eye-to-eye. you could see the mischief in his gaze, and your tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation—one could never know what the chalk prince would do next.

“i wonder… could we possibly encourage the vine to grow more? perhaps then it wouldn’t be stuck—which, again, is fascinating in itself.”

albedo was staring at you so intensely that you couldn’t make yourself meet his gaze. he continued nonetheless, “i’ve really never heard of someone’s powers emerging straight from the vision and manifesting that way. you are very curious—very curious indeed.”

seeing your blank expression and watery eyes, albedo decided to continue with his procedures in a more considerate fashion. he understood that you probably felt scrutinized, but he didn’t mean it that way, truly. he was filled with genuine curiosity about this predicament—though perhaps he did have an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.. but who’s to say?

“let’s go ahead and see if we can make it grow, then, shall we?” oh, there was so much mischief in his voice, and you did not like it one bit, nor did you like the way your stomach buzzed.

albedo suddenly leaned down very close to the side of your face—close enough that you could hear his gentle breathing and feel it fan across your blushy cheek.

“would this suffice to do the trick?” he asked lowly; you spotted his subtle grin out of the corner of your eye.

and sure enough, the floor all near ruptured with greenery, so many flowers poking up through the cracks of the dirt that it almost looked like a garden in the middle of this dry, frigid mountain.

“oh, my,” albedo chuckled, his mirthful gaze burning your face. “that did the trick indeed.”

you stepped back out of shame, though your flustered expression failed to escape him—nothing could ever fool those sharp eyes of his.

how endearing, he thought, amused at the manner in which your feet shifted and the way your cheeks bloomed a shade much darker than before.

hoping to quell your fears, albedo leaned down to pluck a single flower from its stem—a cecilia, native to mondstadt, yet fabricated by your own hand. he approached you to carefully tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering for but a moment to brush your cheek.

another cecilia popped up from the ground, right next to albedo’s feet—your hands flew up to cover your face.

this prompted a warm chuckle from the alchemist. your anxiety subsided a bit at his comforting, familiar laughter.

his hand remained near your cheek, thumb just barely ghosting the skin; it was as though you were made of a delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. and yet, oh, and yet, the way he was looking at you was so piercing that you thought you may fall apart at the seams. those eyes of his drilled holes into your face, but their gaze still held so much affection—how could he possibly analyze you with that cold calculation and still make you feel so warm inside?

“it’s still stuck in the vision,” he murmured without breaking eye contact, his even and composed voice dragging you out of a daydream; it took you a moment to realize he was talking about the plant. although.. his hand was still cupping your cheek. your heart thumped in your ears like a rabbit’s foot to the ground—why was he still touching you? this wasn’t like the distant, calculated albedo you were certain you knew… though it’s not like you minded.

the alchemist took a step forward with one foot, slow and careful. the other followed suit, bringing him ever closer, so that now you could feel his breath against your cheek again. it was a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere, and a shiver racked through your body at his touch. and that was when you realized just how close he was—so close that your noses almost brushed; so close that he was craning his neck to meet your gaze; so close that you almost thought he might…

..well, albedo just couldn’t help himself, could he? archons, he knew he was supposed to be trying to fix the problem with your vision, but this entire experiment was his own self-indulgence at this point. but he would not be doing it if he didn’t already know that you were quite taken with him—your vision going haywire when he got close to you gave albedo all the evidence he needed to come to the conclusion that you were smitten.

and so, when the alchemist placed his other hand on your jaw, holding your face with that steadiness and carefulness you knew he possessed, more flowers sprung up around your feet. but neither of you cared.

“this should fix it, yeah?” albedo mumbled, and before you could even process what he had said, he was swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss.

it was gentle yet fervent, brief yet fulfilling. your whole body felt warm and fluttery, so when he pulled away, you found yourself leaning forward and standing on your tippy toes as if to beg him not to—but he did, just so that he could see the expression on your face: flushed, sheepish, happy, perplexed. he was satisfied knowing that his own affections were very obviously returned.

before you knew it, his lips were crashing into yours again, just a bit more eager this time. you had no idea the great albedo was capable of such a feat as this—you’d never even entertained the thought of him reciprocating your feelings. it was just out of the question to you, until now.

albedo’s lips were slightly cracked from the cold, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. he held your face so gently and rubbed his gloved thumbs over your skin so tenderly that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but he took the liberty of grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. you could feel his breathing, feel the air fill and vacate his lungs, feel how he shuddered when a sudden wind invaded the workshop.

the chilled air did not help your flustered state, for your knees had already buckled more than once, and albedo’s hold on you was the only thing keeping you standing. for now, though, his lips remained on yours, and plants continued growing in his workshop until there was literally no space to walk.

albedo didn’t mind. the vision had fixed itself due to your excitement, allowing the vine to mature properly. though not to mention…a few other plants had joined in on the process.

but he loved this. he loved the view, he loved your presence, and he loved how beautiful you looked when he pulled away: eyes shining, lips a bit swollen, cheeks rosy. the fact that he could no longer move in his workshop didn’t matter so long as you were here.

he was going to paint you like this when he got the chance, he decided—and there would be no lack of flowers to reference, that’s for sure.

ᴛᴡ. ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!!!1!1!! FROM HERE ON OUT !!1! ……… mentions of the reader being injured, not specified from where (nothing too descriptive); flowers grow from the reader’s wounds (again, not too descriptive); slight angst but it is immediately fluffified and everything else is good :] auntie buer basically assigned him a babysitter and thats you ehehyeyegeh

the wanderer had gone by many names in his lifetime, names that engendered fear into his enemies and allies alike.

though, had he ever really had an ally after the losses he had perceived as betrayals? in reality, scaramouche held everyone at arms length no matter what, never allowing anyone close enough to see, much less touch, the fragile shards of his psyche.

but you—an insignificant little woman, his appointed caretaker—you had given him a name.

it was unlike any of the other titles he’d been assigned. rather, this time, it wasn’t even so much that you had assigned it to him, but that it had been set aside for him—like you had let him step into it on his own, try it on for size, and decide if it suited him.

it’s a name that was reserved for him by someone kind. someone with good intention. someone who reminded him too much of the ones he had lost.

you called him junpei. pure. genuine.

the wanderer found it amusing how ironic your choice was. but upon seeing your eager grin, he could not bring himself to reject the name.

junpei.

was that how you saw him? or was it what you wanted him to be?

“junpei, would you help me with this?” sure, he would—did he have a choice, anyways?

“jun, have you eaten?” no. food was not a necessity to him, as he was a puppet. but you would make him eat regardless.

“you look tired, jun, did you sleep alright?” no. he did not sleep alright. but he felt a bit better after hearing those words come out of your mouth, truth be told.

after hearing the name (and its subsequent nicknames) on your lips day after day, it began to feel less strange. in fact, he even started to like the way it rolled off your tongue so easily.

and he liked the way you cared for him.

why did you do it?

he didn’t know. he couldn’t even begin to guess why you took on the task of watching after him. he knew how much a piece of work he was.

it turned out that you just genuinely believed in new beginnings and second chances for everyone—and to you, the wanderer, junpei, was no exception.

he was not aware, but the reason you named him junpei was because of the first time he fell asleep in your presence. his face—it was so quiet. his expression was subdued. he had become gentle.

if it was possible for him to look so peaceful in his sleep, then you were confident that he was made up of something much milder on the inside—something tender, something soft, something placid that he had carefully tucked and folded away, hidden from the prying eyes of anyone who would ever try to hurt him again.

but you did not want to hurt him. you wanted to show him beautiful things, wonderful things—things that require that benign temperament to appreciate. and if you had to give him the stars and the moon to make him open up, to make him show you that small, humane fragment of himself, then so be it. you weren’t going anywhere.

he never truly began to trust you until your own insecurities and weaknesses were exposed.

it was beyond the wanderer how someone so seemingly innocent and sheltered could be littered with so many wounds—so many wounds, and so many scars.

but then, under that short cape you never removed, there were the flowers.

pretty flowers that grew from your arms, that sprouted from the ugly gashes like beautiful weeds, that made you feel ashamed and gross. lovely flowers that were not so lovely to you. flowers that illustrated your pain. flowers that only served to make your skin crawl and remind you of what you had suffered.

it astounded the wanderer when you admitted that you had never shared this with anyone else, had never taken your cape off in the presence of another. this was a secret, something special, a sign of your trust and dedication to staying by his side. even if this was your job, he realized in that moment that this had never been just a job to you. you were there for him.

but.. still, he had his suspicions that you only wanted to “fix” him. so it wasn’t until he’d witnessed your composed display crack, fissure, and boil over that the wanderer began to trust you completely.

“jun,” you cried. it was such a helpless, pathetic sight—or, that’s what scaramouche would have thought. but junpei found himself rushing to your side, something inside his chest pounding wildly against the ribs caging it. a feeling of desperation began to claw its way out of his stomach when he saw your tears.

and the flowers. they crowded your arms, one of your thighs. were they lovely, or were they horrendous? he could not decide.

there was one tiny flower on your cheekbone. a small, yellow daisy, poised there as if your face had been its home all along.

the wanderer spat curses under his breath. “you idiot.. you stupid, stupid human..” his breathing became erratic as a violent panic overwhelmed him.

“what did you do?”

his voice was painful and strained. quiet. but most of all, it was angry.

you couldn’t give him a proper response, only shaking your head as more tears spilled from your eyes. and at this, a hole formed itself in the wanderer’s gut.

that old fear. that feeling. that horrible, dreadful, terrifying feeling.

suddenly, he was kunikuzushi again, watching the people he loved abandon him. break their promises to him.

you promised. you promised him.

but hadn’t they all?

what could a promise even mean anymore if it could be so easily broken?

you could see the gears turning in his mind, the rage that you hadn’t witnessed in so long shifting and blazing behind his eyes. and you knew you had to say something.

“i’m not going to die, you know,” you muttered, using what little strength you had to give him a watery smile. “i’m only crying like a little bitch because it hurts, okay, jun?”

his expression immediately shifted, as if the anger had been doused by a bucket of water—but it wasn’t relief you saw. it was sadness.

“i promised you, didn’t i?” you whispered, noticing how his face contorted into something distraught. slowly, painfully, you extended your pinkie from your arm’s limp place on the ground, and though it took him a moment to consider, the wanderer linked his fifth finger with yours.

“you did,” he replied, his voice no more than a whisper. then, humorlessly, he smiled, all color drained from his face. “so you better not break it.”

“is that a threat, my dear wanderer?”

he couldn’t fight the genuine upturn of his lips—you always chose the most inappropriate times to make an attempt at comedy. the wanderer shook his head, gently pinching your unwounded cheek while he chastised you with something like affection in his voice.

from then on, junpei tended to you as if curating a garden, as if you were a little flower he had planted and helped grow all along. not once would he allow you to put yourself in danger—and if you tried, he would flick your forehead and make you sit in the tent in time-out. but if you really pushed him, really, he could get genuinely angry with you, but only because he cared for you. the worst he’d ever do was raise his voice at you, and even then, you could hear in his tone how worried he was under the aggression.

at some point, you realized that junpei had only become this caring since the day he witnessed you so vulnerable. it was as if he had not allowed himself to trust you completely until he was certain that you needed him, too.

you couldn’t blame him for it—you were glad to know that he no longer viewed vulnerability as a weakness. it was a sign that he was healing and finding comfort in something other than the despair he’d harbored for so long.

“juunyyy,” you sang from your tent, where you had been forcibly stowed away under a nest of blankets and shoved into junpei’s suzukake (outer robe). you were sick, and dreadfully so.

when he poked his head through the flap of the tent, the way your face distinctly brightened upon seeing him made the wanderer’s stomach plummet to the floor. granted, you were a bit loopy from the fever, but it’s not the first time you’d looked at him like that. he felt himself falling in love with you all over again every time he saw you—now in particular, since you were bundled up in his jacket looking so awfully adorable.

“what is it?” he asked, trying with all he had to conceal the fondness in his voice with a scowl. your coy smile hinted at his unfortunate failure.

“i have something for you,” you whispered giddily, even though nobody else was around, and there was nothing you’d said that even remotely suggested you needed to whisper.

junpei sighed, entering the tent with an air of indifference despite how his chest fluttered. your childish grin was really making it hard for him to keep up the act, though.

and when you placed a flower crown on his head, taking the time to smooth down his dark, inky hair to make a place for it, junpei thought it was really going to be the end of him.

this is it, he mused. i’ve officially become soft.

what would scaramouche think if he saw himself now?

but.. that didn’t matter, did it? no, no it didn’t. it truly did not matter. he was no longer bound by the person he had been—or rather, the puppet. the heartless balladeer. scaramouche.

maybe you’d seen this in him all along. maybe you’d always known he would thaw out someday. maybe that was why you had called him junpei.

if that was the case, he suddenly realized that you were smarter than he gave you credit for. perhaps he had judged that dense pea-brain of yours too harshly, no?

..archons, but you were still so stupid at the same time.

he found himself scoffing at the conclusions he’d reached about you—and he had the sudden urge to wipe that goofy little smile off your face.

so he threw all caution to the wind, grabbing your chin, albeit a little rougher than he’d meant to. there was nothing stopping him from kissing you anymore, so he did just that. although he was a bit stiff about it at first.

after a few moments, his rigid posture softened, and he let go of your chin to instead cup your face, a surprising tenderness to his touch—at the same time, you recovered from your shock, becoming lucid enough to wrap your arms around his neck and reciprocate the way he pressed into you.

a few minutes later, the two of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, and the wanderer’s steady hands held you closer than they ever had before. you remembered when they used to shake and tremble—it warmed you to think just how much you’d seen him grow.

even though you’d both surely had your fill of kisses, he kept leaning in and stealing more small pecks from your lips while you dissolved into laughter. every time a giggle managed to escape you, it was swallowed by a chaste, almost playful, kiss, something you didn’t know your grumpy little wanderer was capable of. more uncontrollable laughter soon followed each time his lips left yours.

the wanderer’s assault of smooches finally stopped when your amusement started to die down. the two of you were left with a tender moment as he held you firmly, closely, his eyes making a silent promise to you that he was the one you could depend upon now. that you didn’t have to babysit him anymore. his loyalty belonged to you.

well, it’s not like you couldn’t infer that from the way he’d just desperately made out with you. but the reassurance was nice!

he rested his head on your shoulder, almost in a defeated manner, as if all that affection had truly exhausted him to the bone. you found that very amusing. and of course, as always, you’d spotted the perfect opportunity to say something that would no doubt ruffle his feathers.

“ . . . you know i’m sick, right? ”

thank you for reading😳

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#mujimade #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #albedo x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #heizou #shikanoin heizou #albedo #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi

[minimujina]

ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇʟᴘ

scara drabble turned emotional, not clickbait🔥had to put a readmore cause it got long, i didnt fkn plan this

thinking violently about taking care of scara’s wounds even though he’s not human and they’re literally going to fix themselves (let’s just. go with that. since idk how his body actually works LMFAOO). and he doesn’t even have the heart to tell you the first time you see him lightly injured—he tries to, really, but he can hardly get a word in with how firmly you insist on patching him up. he can’t find it in himself to interject with the real reason he’d be fine without your help, because good god you’re just so stubborn—and normally he wouldn’t give a lick about something as trivial as the feelings of a sentimental human, but there’s a part of him that finds it.. sweet, the way you care so much. even though it’s actually for no reason. even though this “purpose” you’ve found—following him around to take care of him when he gets hurt—is actually pointless in a way. even though he could spare both you and him extra work by telling you.

he just cant find it in himself to be the one to deflate you. he could deflate anyone, anyone at all—but not you. never you. somehow, you’re special. there is something about you that makes insults catch in his throat and ugly comments die before they even become a wisp of a thought.

your earnest gaze as you rush for him when his porcelain skin has been blemished—that, in particular, feels strangely familiar to him, but he does not know why. and your unabashed naivety irks him in a way, but it’s also one of the sole reasons he could not possibly ruin the moments between you two where you are touching him so gently and so lovingly, the only sounds being being the rustling of bandages and the chirping of insects, his leg bouncing violently and stomach playing jumprope at the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his artificial skin and his artificial wounds. your palms are sweaty as you work and your breathing is a bit loud, but he could not possibly care about anything less. things that would piss him off if done by anyone else—existing, for example, or any of the former mentioned “imperfections”—could pass very easily if the person was you.

and then there’s the selfish part of him, the part that can’t tell you because he would then be forced to forfeit those special moments of intimacy he had not experienced the likes of since his first breath of life. he wants you so selfishly; he sees no reason to squish your good, false faith while losing you in the process. that’s just a lose-lose scenario. what would he gain in return—a real relationship? pah. with relationships come suffering, and the fact that it is all entirely out of his control makes his empty chest convulse a bit.

he figured it’s alright to live a little white, harmless lie. it meant he could be close to you, it meant he could keep you around without being blatantly obvious about his affection (read: he could beat around the bush for as long as possible). he could avoid his feelings while still reaping the benefit of your presence.

but oh, trust me, it will certainly bite him in the ass eventually. he can’t run forever. you’ll get tired; you’ll think he’s sick of you. that he hates you. that he doesn’t want you around—he doesn’t need you.

and it’s true, actually, that he doesn’t need you.

however, there is a point to be made about relationships out of need versus relationships out of choice.

wouldn’t it be such a beautiful thing for him to finally stop pretending he only has you around because of necessity? if he makes it known that no, this is a choice that i am making—i am choosing to love you—his chest will be left wide open in all its empty glory, where there is no heart, but instead a vulnerable child. he’d be left with nothing but the hope that you will respond with grace, and that terrifies him.

and no, he is certainly not sick of you, nor does he hate you. he wants nothing more than you, than your presence. he wants everything to do with you. he wants you more than anything he’s ever wanted in his miserable, pathetic life, if it could even be called a life.

but does he need you? no.

and you know what’s so fascinating? he has not needed you all this time, and yet he’s kept you around. isn’t that interesting?

he chose you from the beginning with the guise of necessity. he pretended that it was because he needed it, needed you, needed your help—because somehow the idea that it was a choice made entirely of his own volition, for literally no reason other than he liked you, is absolutely mortifying. the last time he made such a choice, it destroyed him.

how is he supposed to justify keeping you around if he doesn’t even have a reason for it other than the butterflies in his artificial stomach? how can he justify it with his mere feelings?

his feelings make him weak. his feelings are the reason he was cast away in the first place.

it’s so much easier to pretend he’s detached. but detachment means he will only ever feel your artificial touch on his artificial skin, and nothing more. your well-intentioned hands on his fake skin, on his fake wounds. the porcelain cracks are spreading quickly, and he will do nothing about it.

the saddest part about all of it is the fact that he thinks he has to justify his feelings to anyone at all. he does not know what it means to do anything without immediately thinking about how to explain it should someone question him.

what he needs is not you. what he needs is to stop treating you like you’re a ghost from his past who will echo the aches and pains of all the people who hurt him. he can choose you in his mind, but if he holds you at an arm’s distance and does nothing about that choice, it will then mean nothing.

what he needs is to stop wishing he could have you without exposing himself in the process.

if he is to have you, he will be vulnerable with you. there is no choice in that matter. but what he does not understand is that such vulnerability is not dangerous if it’s you he’s with.

so that’s the one thing that you can do to help him—you must not only tell him, but show him, that you are not going to leave him at the drop of a hat if he is anything more than apathetic. that’s it. your only job will be to show him you are safe. that’s all you can do.

and then you must wait for him to believe you.

it’s not your job to fix him. and he can’t sit around and wait for someone to be his savior, the yin to his yang, the angel who will purify his sin. you cannot be any of that. nobody can.

but what you can be is his safe place, his heart, his joy, his lover. you can be—you are—the only one who is able to receive his angst and transform it into understanding. you can choose to love him, not because you need him, but because you want him, amidst all of his angst and suffering.

so that’s his job—realizing it’s possible that you could ever choose him, not of need, but of want, despite everything about him that is less than desirable. despite how difficult it will be. he already knows he’s chosen you, that’s not the hard part—he doesn’t have difficulty believing the lovability of others. the hard part is believing the lovability of himself.

and even when he finally accepts that you want him, even after he tells you the reason he does not need you to fix his injuries, you are still there to lovingly wrap a cloth around his fake, weeping skin.

he does not need you, and yet you remain, because you’ve made your choice—it doesn’t matter whether he needs you or not. he will have you because you chose to give yourself to him.

you will take care of his body not because you need to, but because you want to. you will love him simply because you can.

it’ll take him some time to understand that, but he’ll get there, i promise. please do be patient.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #scara x reader #scaramouche drabble #wanderer imagine #genshin drabble #scaramouche x you #mujimade

[minimujina]

𝑑𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. scaramouche drabble :)

ᴛᴡ. none, just cute fluff. use of scara’s real name

ᴀ/ɴ. i haven’t done the sumeru archon quest yet because i’ve kept procrastinating so i apologize if any of this is lore inaccurate </3 i mean it’s not really got anything to do with lore, i just wanted to write something soft for scara, but i figured i’d say this anyways kjglfkjfl

↳ scaramouche hates it when u do that thing

↳ u know.. that thing

↳ that thing where u are cute all the time and make him feel things. he hates that.

↳ how dare you have the audacity to be that amiable to an infamous fatui harbinger such as himself. how dare you!!

↳ he hates that he wants to protect you. like all the time. it’s like he has a new 6th sense for smelling potential danger. but like

↳ only for u

↳ he’d put himself at great risk if it meant you were safe

↳ i mean,, he’d also put himself at great risk because goddamn it he’s angry at the world and he just wants to kill things

↳ but. same thing

↳ yeah he couldnt give two flying fucks about anyone else. only u. turns out you are his darling whether u like it or not cause he just can’t stand how much he likes you and therefore he’s obligated to keep you around. or whatever

↳ will call u dumb and then immediately feel bad when he sees that you’re about to cry lol

↳ he learns with time that he kinda has to actually be gentle with you. ugh

↳ (but he actually grows to like it) (he comes to the point where he’s okay with being gentle and it comes naturally around you)

↳ comes home from yelling at his subordinates and collapses in ur arms while you pet his hair and hold him close bc god nothing feels better than your touch reassuring him that he’s loved by at least one person. doesn’t matter if the rest of the world wants him dead—knowing you care so much about this wretched, empty heart of his that you would hold him so tenderly is enough for him.

↳ at first he hates kisses. hates all forms of pda and kinda affection in general

↳ but as he grows more confident in his love for you and your love for him, he starts displaying it more

↳ will actually kiss your hand🥺

↳ even in front of his subordinates, he’ll greet you by taking your little palm in his own and bringing it to his lips, always always making sure to prolong eye contact because he knows how much it flusters you :)

↳ cue a bunch of fatui agents sniffling and clutching their chests bc holy shit scaramouche is soft for someone

↳ treats you like a princess. really does. he comes to hold you in the highest regard—he always did, really, but he was simply too embarrassed to admit it (even to himself).

↳ some of the fatui agents end up voicing their surprise that scaramouche keeps you around—they wouldn’t think someone so docile and plain would catch the eye of-

↳ thud. scaramouche’s vision crackles with electro energy, his hands clenched, while the underling who had run her mouth lay writhing on the cold, hard floor.

↳ “let it be known that the sole reason you remain alive right now is because my darling would disapprove of me ending your life,” the harbinger threatens, while the other underlings rush to aid the woman blasted off her feet.

↳ yeah,, he does not tolerate any gossip about the love of his life.

↳ yes, you were docile. so docile, in fact, that you were able to combat the violence erupting from scaramouche with a simple frown, reminding him that excessive cruelty was not the way to win your heart. and so he would change his ways gradually, allowing himself to give what the other fatui agents called “grace”, a grace which they’d never received from this ruthless man before.

↳ but plain? no. you were anything but. and scaramouche would defend your honor with all that he had—how dare those vermin call his darling plain. every day, scaramouche looked you in the eyes and found remarkable beauty, hidden affections, truths folded like a blanket, and universes. he saw universes in your eyes. so scaramouche found it almost offensive that the agents would dare to suggest you were anything but special—he knew you to be a precious gem full of universes. they didn’t understand you like he did; they could never appreciate you like he did.

↳ scaramouche becomes convinced that there is no one more worthy of respect than you, and he’s not ashamed to tell you so. when you shy away from his praises, he’ll grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look at him so you have no choice but to pay attention.

↳ when you sheepishly avert your gaze, he murmurs, “eye contact, darling—we talked about this,” observing your plush, trembling lips and flushed cheeks. his thumb grazes over your bottom lip so softly, so gently, something you didn’t know he was capable of. and the kiss that follows somehow manages to be all the more tender.

↳ pulling away with a whimper, you quip, “i would hardly call this respect, kuni.”

↳ scaramouche grins, and for the first time you see something akin to joy in his gaze. “well, darling, perhaps you could just think of it as adoration. same thing, no?”

↳ your giggle rings in his ears like the clinking of glass—“sure, kuni. alright.” and you’re forced to let go of any further thought as he swoops in for another kiss.

↳ meanwhile, childe is watching from somewhere nearby, clutching at his chest dramatically while dottore smacks him in an attempt to get him to shut the fuck up. nobody gets caught spying on scaramouche and comes out alive.

↳ childe just can’t help it, though!! this is his comrade, his rival friend, finally experiencing love for another person!! if it hadn’t been for scaramouche’s quick steal, childe quite frankly would’ve taken you for himself—not that scaramouche would ever have to know that, of course. :) you were a gem childe regretted letting slip through his fingers, but it did bring him solace to know that scaramouche was actually treating you right. he could live with it as long as you were happy.

𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ! ఌ

#threw this up on accident before school one morning. figured i’d add some more and post it lol #this one is incredibly self indulgent (like all of my writignHAHDIUSH) #mujimade #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #scara x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche

[minimujina]

the stimmies and the shimmies !

hi i wrote a self-indulgent drabble about kuni (wanderer) where u do some happy stimming and he wants to know why!!

ᴄᴡ. written with a neurodivergent reader in mind, but anyone can read and relate as stimming is not at all exclusive to neurodivergency :] i do not at all wish to encourage harmful stereotypes or put this behavior on a pedestal—this is simply a silly happy drabble building from my own personal experiences and i wanted to share it for anyone to enjoy!!

ᴀ/ɴ. happy flappy happy flappy flip flop flappy pap :D also this actually turned out to be really cute and doesnt only have to do with stimming—its very fluffy and funny and i really like the dialogue!! not super proofread and im very proud of myself for not hoarding this in my drafts for months!! im really happy that it only took me an evening to write this!! WEEEE

“…why are you flapping your hands?”

you stopped moving abruptly, staring at the wanderer with a blank face, expression unreadable.

it took you a moment to get the words out (because he was staring at you expectantly with his arms crossed, and that was rather intimidating), but you managed to squeak them by after some self-encouragement.

“well… im happy.”

kunikuzushi seemed to scrutinize you for a moment, and you were afraid that this had only given him another reason to dislike you. “happy? why would you be happy? i hate happy people.”

(…that’s what you imagined he would say.)

though, you obviously didn’t know him perfectly well, because what he said next was far from the venomous reply you’d feared.

he simply hummed, gaze softening a bit. “alright then.”

alright then.

you had finished your happy flapping due to the interruption, no longer feeling the urge to happy flap, but you still felt calm and content, and maybe even more so thanks to his almost… sweet response. sweet for him, at least.

the expression on his face made you feel a bit warm all of a sudden—he wouldn’t stop looking at you. it wasn’t hard to tell that his eyes were boring into your own even if you weren’t meeting them yourself. you felt like a little pot of boiling water under his gaze. a little soup. a soup of happy and confused feelings. happy soup.

what was it that had made you so very happy, kunikuzushi wondered? he kept replaying the past couple minutes in his head, trying to remember what had occurred just before this, but the only pictures in his head were of you, all bouncy and flappy and so very pleased.

perhaps he should’ve just asked you, he mused.

perhaps he would just ask you.

“what made you so happy?” he inquired, as blunt and flat as ever. but you knew him just enough to know that he would never ask such a thing if he didn’t really care—and the tone of his voice was irrelevant. he always sounded rather uninterested with anything.

you grinned, meeting his gaze. it looked as though you were holding yourself back, buzzing with a chained excitement again.

“kuni, i was happy because of you!”

a most incredulous expression crossed the wanderer’s face.

“me?”

what could kunikuzushi have done to make anyone so happy?

he studied your smile, your hands, your eyes—and he could not figure out how he could possibly be a reason that all of those lovely features of yours contained such absolute joy.

you nodded confidently. “do you want me to explain?” you could tell from kuni’s horrified expression that, firstly, he did not really believe you. and secondly, he held a deep-seated loathing for himself, which was why he could not believe you. he could not accept that there was anything good about himself.

“knock yourself out,” he murmured, still seeming dazed.

you motioned for him to sit next to you, looking like you would start jumping up and down at any second. seriously, why were you so happy?

“i was just thinking about how far you’ve come, kuni,” you began. you already looked like you were in the middle of one of your long spiels that the wanderer was so often obliged to listen to. “and it makes me really happy.”

he had to hold himself back from scoffing—not because he thought anything bad about you, but because he thought badly about himself.

“remember when nahida first made you come work with me in the nursery?” you grinned. “you were so mad. it was hilarious.”

kunikuzushi averted his gaze to the ground with a grumble, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

“okay, i was not mad.”

“yes, yes you were! oh my archons, you were so grumpy, kuni! you-”

“no, you are so delusional,” he retorted. “i was just-”

“grumpy?”

“no.”

“ooohhh, yes, kuni was feeling a bit grumpy, i think. you were a little grumper.”

the wanderer opened his mouth to retaliate—but he faltered, a new hint of amusement smothering his gaze.

“…you are incredibly annoying, did you know that?”

in any other situation you would’ve taken that very literally, but the faintest of smiles itched at his lips, and you knew for certain that that was his way of conceding.

you probably should’ve stopped there, but something inside you just couldn’t continue in life without saying this one last thing.

you feigned pity with a pout, widening your eyes and clasping your hands.

“...did nahida forget to give you a juicebox that day?”

kunikuzushi thrust his hat onto your head, shoving you and your hysterical laughter aside. if you could’ve seen from under the big ass hat, his glowing cheeks and sheepish grin likely would have sent you into a fit, and the wanderer just couldn’t have that.

“i am so funny,” you cackled, very obviously pleased with yourself (but you were still trapped under his hat, so your voice was very muffled, and it was much more difficult for him to take you seriously this way).

“yeah, yeah. whatever helps you sleep at night, flappy.”

“flappy?” you knocked off the hat with one sweep, an incredulous smile dancing on your lips. “you jerk!”

“yes, i know.”

“oh, you are so mean,” you grumbled, though your expression said the exact opposite.

“i’m well aware, flappy.”

“you just make me wanna—wanna—oh, why i oughta-”

“oh, please, do tell!” kunikuzushi drawled, resting his chin in his palm.

when you couldn’t seem to say anything at all, mouth agape, he closed it for you—pushing your jaw up with his pointer finger—grinning smugly like he always did.

“as auntie nahida says,” the wanderer murmured, “if you have nothing nice to say…don’t say anything at all.”

and with that, he grabbed his hat from the floor, exiting the nearly empty nursery with a dramatic flourish that was so characteristic of him. you were left sitting there for a few minutes, aghast at what had just happened, until you came to your senses.

you did a bit of happy flapping after that.

thank you for reading :)

#kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche imagines #something about kuni reminds me of autism LMAO?? #since he’s not fully human and he spent some of his life being around people and learning how they act #learning what is ‘normal’ #that reminds me very much of my own experience with autism #looking to others constantly to know how to act normal and never actually knowing yourself outside of this fake little unautistic identity #LMAOFHDJDGD #OH MY GOSH and his voice line about bitter taste #how when someone gave him coffee he didnt actually like it but he kept drinking it because.. he had to (he didnt have to but he thought so) #skdhkshdkdd just you know. he is very gorgeous to me ! #and i cannot explain in words how much i adore him and his redemption arc #BOY YOU ARE SO DEEPLY REDEEMED IN MY EYES #COME HERE BOY GIVE ME A KISS #mujimade #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi

[minimujina]

opposites attract !

i love that even though heizou is definitely an arrogant bastard to some degree, he’s actually a very caring and thoughtful person. i imagine he’d become so incredibly soft as a boyfriend, bro would seriously just melt at the precious darling in his arms as you run to hug him after a long day at work. he might know a lot of shit, but your innocence and headfirst acceptance will always be things that elude him since he happens to be quite the opposite. you are always likely to bring a fresh, unbiased perspective that he admittedly doesn’t consider sometimes, which he appreciates. to be a good and fair detective, he must be willing to consider multitudinous possibilities.

you’re also easily flustered, which he will 100% take advantage of. heizou is such a flirty bastard, but he knows what your limits are just by your demeanor, so he’ll never go so far as to make you truly uncomfortable (though he will always apologize with a gentle kiss on the lips regardless). heizou just knows how to read people, you especially—he knows what you’re likely thinking and feeling at any given moment, which makes the two of you oddly in sync for being opposites. and you, even if you aren’t particularly good at reading people, you seem to understand heizou in a way no one else does or even tries to do.

for example, only you know that heizou can be deeply affected, emotionally speaking. despite his aptly logical mind, there are certain things that will strike him to his core and convict him deeply, prompting out of control and emotional responses (though only internally). ironically, what really gets him going is actually his job to contain—those who prey on the innocent, corrupt what is good, and get away with committing evil acts. his whole reason for being a detective stems from the simmering anger in his gut that some people would choose to be so cruel, and yet no one would ever know about this anger unless he outright told them. he’s so easygoing and flirtatious that it seems like he’s got no deeper understanding of the justice system—but you know that this is not the case, and that’s enough for shikanoin heizou.

“love, what’s wrong?” the detective mused, gathering you up in his arms the way he knew you loved. cradling you across his lap, he leaned down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. you loved to be held like this, which he had come to realize very early on.

you studied him with a quiet, gentle smile, shaking your head very subtly. “nothing’s wrong,” you murmured. “you’re just handsome. and you make a cute face when you’re thinking. and i love that.” you paused, letting your smile grow into a full grin. “and i love you. that’s all.”

heizou laughed in the most affectionate manner, losing himself in your starry, far-off gaze. it was a moment before he realized he was gaping, as if his mouth were searching for words—but the hunt turned up empty. his throat was dry, his lips a bit cracked, and still, he had nothing to say. it just so happened that the only person to ever render him speechless was you. and to be completely honest, this occurred way more often than he would have liked to admit. lucky for him, you weren’t one to spill secrets.

watching heizou struggle, you pursed your lips in an attempt not to laugh—then you just cuddled closer to him, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder and collarbone to feign innocence.

a grand sigh fell from heizou’s lips—he surrendered to your affection, placing one of his hands on your head and the other around your waist to pull you even closer. though flustered, the detective could only smile at what you’d said so nonchalantly—he’d never let you know, but he’d been deeply affected by your words, and they’d be bouncing around in his head for weeks on end if he wasn’t careful enough to focus on his job.

it’s okay, though. you already knew that. you just didn’t want to bruise his ego by telling him.

𝑀𝑀 𝐸𝐻𝐸𝐻𝐸 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑏 𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛

#mujimade #heizou #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou #shikanoin heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin writing #genshin drabbles #genshin #genshin impact #genshin heizou #shikanoin x reader

[minimujina]

ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ

a small piece of comfort from chongyun as reader experiences a meltdown of sorts. can be interpreted as sensory overload, autistic meltdown, panic attack, etc etc, and hopefully any similar situation you could use some comfort with.

“too loud…” you cried, slapping your palms over your ears. warm tears welled in your eyes and spilled in rivers down your cheeks—“it’s too loud.” your voice was so small, so quiet. so broken.

you felt yourself losing grip on your surroundings, the deafening noises muting as if you had left the room. but one thing was keeping you tethered to your body—chongyun’s touch.

it was the feeling of your back pressed firmly against his chest; his arms enveloping you; thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your wrists. it was only when you focused on those sensations that you were able to hear him whispering softly in your ear, voice strangled with worry: “it’s okay. i’ve got you. you’re okay.”

you were burning up and your palms were soaked from clawing at your tear-filled eyes, but still chongyun grasped at you desperately, ignoring the way his own insides were igniting. he just needed you back, needed you to come back from wherever you were right now and see that he was with you. he even didn’t know that he was the only thing keeping you awake at the moment as you experienced a sort of dissociation. you felt like an outsider in your own body as it writhed and sobbed, while chongyun just held you tightly, whispering gentle comforts and brushing his thumb over the skin of your arms.

slowly, gradually, the focus you directed towards the feeling of chongyun’s soft thumb began to pull you back to your body. you could feel his chest breathing heavily behind you, his legs surrounding your own, his arms enveloping you with a comforting warmth—you didn’t know such a gentle sensation was possible. it hugged you, it compressed you, it filled you. a beautiful kind of relief washed over you in one large wave, allowing you to breathe long enough to remember where you were.

after regaining control of yourself, you managed to worm your body around enough to face chongyun, wrapping your legs around his torso and burying your face in his neck while he (after recovering from his surprise) helped you adjust and sit on his lap comfortably. the boy leaned into your touch completely, melting into you to envelope your body completely with his own. his arms fit snugly around your waist as if that was where they belonged. no words were exchanged—they needn’t have been. you simply clutched onto chongyun as if afraid you would leave yourself again, desperate to stay connected to the present despite the noise that had driven you to panic in the first place. the noise didn’t matter so long as you could feel chongyun, touch chongyun, just know that chongyun was there.

you melted into his warmth—the warmth of the boy with the cryo vision.

#mujimade #chongyun x reader #chongyun #genshin chongyun #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tw meltdown #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #tw sensory overload #tw dissociation #genshin impact chongyun #gi chongyun

[minimujina]

ᴀᴍᴏᴜʀ ᴅ'ᴇɴfᴀɴᴄᴇ !

sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. chongyun <3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. a long drabble of being chongyun’s childhood sweetheart :) lots of fluff and mutual pining, xingqiu being a wingman, hu tao is evil<3, the liyue girls bein teenage girls, more teenage shenanigans, the reader is 15 in a large chunk of the story (otherwise it’s a flashback to childhood)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ. originally i wanted to write this for xingqiu and bennett too, but i’m having too hard of a time writing to do all that right now. for now, i think i need to post this just for chongyun so i can get my morale up and start writing more often!

↪︎ as children, you were extremely close, always touching and playing like kids do, though even more so because your families had been affiliated for generations. every day was something new, but it was always with chongyun, and the two of you liked it that way. this seemed to build up a sort of immunity with chongyun’s excess yang energy–meaning you became the only person who was incapable of overwhelming him. in fact, the two of you began to figure out that not only did you not activate his condition, but you actually suppressed it, too. this lead to frequent hand-holding and clinging on his part, but you had never minded. his touch was a comfort to you, too, a reminder that you always had a friend you could count on. 

↪︎ even as a child chongyun was extremely protective of his loved ones, which was part of what first spurred on a majority of the hand-holding. when there were large crowds in the city, he was very afraid of losing you or letting something happen to you. always vigilant of his surroundings, the boy was the most serious friend you had, but it only made you admire him more and return his clinging.

↪︎ if anyone had ever been mean to you, chongyun’s eyes would darken. if it hadn’t been for your pleading, he would have returned their actions in full–how dare they? how dare they say such things to you? how dare they touch you and hurt you? something deep in his gut that had been slumbering since his existence began to rise to the surface, and it would have boiled over had you not clung to the boy with tears in your eyes, begging him to just take you home. he would falter, feeling as if something had just tied his heart up in ropes and left it hanging. it hurt so much to see you cry that he made a vow to always treat you with care–you would never have to cry again (well, that was his blind hope, however endearing the sentiment was). and from then on, he sought your comfort instead of letting his rage get the better of him. you had unintentionally taught him that revenge was not chivalrous.

↪︎ little chongyun didn’t have his popsicles back then, nor did he have much self control, so he got overwhelmed a lot. it wasn’t uncommon to see a little blue-haired boy sprinting around liyue at seemingly impossible velocities. as he grew older, he gained more wisdom in containing himself, but it would always be difficult for him. he often lost his cool in public because the crowd had just been too much stimulation–too much noise, too much visual clutter–but then the boy would feel a familiar warmth, one that did not scorch, and he would look down to find your delicate hand placed firmly in his own. and everything would feel okay again. 

↪︎ these slip-ups never bothered you or scared you away like chongyun so deeply feared–you were always right next to him, linking your arms around his shoulders and holding him so close. oddly enough, seeing these “episodes” was one of the things you always liked about him. you felt like you knew each and every side of him—not just his subdued side, but the “crazy” one too (which you didn’t think was even that crazy), and you liked it all. there was a constant desire to know everything about him that burned in your gut and subconsciously lay at the foreground of your mind. you didn’t really understand love as a child, and there was no reason to—but it’s certain that as you grew older, these feelings of admiration turned into something more.

↪︎ even though you two had made your debut into teenage years, holding hands was still a frequent and vital component of your friendship. strolling through liyue harbor? listening to one of xingqiu’s long spiels of fantasy? running away from hu tao? yes, yes, and yes. that girl loved to pester chongyun, finding it very amusing when his complexion was likened to that of a beet. unfortunately for hu tao, chongyun’s hand immediately found yours as soon as she showed her face—this often resulted in a wild chase through the winding streets of liyue. you had gotten used to it at some point.

↪︎ and funnily enough, nearly nothing has changed since you’ve grown older. hu tao and xingqiu still terrorize chongyun to no end. the only thing that’s different is that now, when chongyun grasps your hand and leads you through winding streets or the outskirts of the city, you find yourself growing warm in the face. you. the one who doesn’t have a special condition.

↪︎ when you look up at chongyun, he’s perfectly fine—maybe a bit pink in the cheeks, but that’s probably from being winded. but at least he’s smiling. and at least he’s your friend, right? you’ve always been friends without a question.

↪︎ but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking. what if… chongyun only liked you because you could calm him down? that didn’t sound so outrageous. what if that was all you were to him?

↪︎ but soon you realized that that line of reasoning undermined his character—and you knew chongyun. you knew each and every part of him better than you knew yourself. chongyun wouldn’t use someone, and it was unfair of you to assume that he would because of some silly fear of yours.

↪︎ “hey, hey—what’s wrong?” chongyun was whispering, bent in front of you with his brows knit in concern, eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. you hadn’t realized, but the two of you had stopped running, and your friendly pursuer was nowhere in sight.

↪︎ but coming to the conclusion you had, you felt free knowing that you didn’t have to worry about it anymore. the fear you had momentarily suffered was merely something your mind made up—nothing more.

↪︎ so you smiled at him, genuinely and happily. and you said, “sorry, i’m good. let’s go.”

↪︎ and when he smiled back, you swore his cheeks had taken that deeper shade of red that appeared when his condition took over. but that couldn’t be, right? he was just winded from the running.

↪︎ yeah, that’s it, you told yourself. but all the while, chongyun’s grip on your hand tightened as the two of you made your way through the ever thickening forest. his palm felt… sweaty? it’s not that you were grossed out—you were certain your hands were sweaty, too—it was just different.

↪︎ and.. the way he looked back at you to make sure no branches thwacked you in the face was different, too. his eyes—something swam in them that you couldn’t quite place.

↪︎ different. the word circled your mind endlessly. it was all just different.

↪︎ ever since that day, that one word haunted you. it seemed to be plastered on chongyun’s forehead, for every time you looked at him, your brain echoed, “diiiiiiifffferrrreeeeennnnt…”

↪︎ perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration, but the topic sure was on your mind a lot. you noticed chongyun would avert your gaze when you held hands now, or he started to scratch the back of his neck very often—almost as if he were nervous.

↪︎ all of these suspicions weighed on you like a boulder—what if you were being completely irrational? this was chongyun. your best friend since diapers. there’s no way he would ever think of you in any way but best friends.

↪︎ you were just about to convince yourself everything was fine, just about to be okay with the fact that chongyun would never like like you, when xingqiu came crashing into the both of your lives in the way that he so often did.

↪︎ his bluntness sent both yours and chongyun’s minds careening into an abyss of warm fuzz. “you’re more than friends,” he stated one day at lunch, gazing at the two of you with that shit-eating grin on his face. chongyun began spluttering excuses and questions, and you began yelling, “WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? HUH??” and it was just a whole mess.

↪︎ and fucking xingqiu just sat there the whole time, smiling.

↪︎ “i said what i said,” he said. he did say what he said, indeed, and there was no going back. once he left, you and chongyun had a great deal of awkwardness to push through.

↪︎ once the initial “um”’s and “ah”’s and “i—“‘s were over, you realized something. squinting at the boy’s feverish complexion, you murmured incredulously, “chongyun… are you blushing?”

↪︎ the idea was so far-fetched to you, just because all this time, the two of you were supposedly immune to that kind of thing. you were supposed to make him.. not excited, right?

↪︎ but his widened eyes and the deepening of the color on his cheeks said everything for you.

↪︎ chongyun was blushing. because of you.

↪︎ you felt like doing cartwheels or running a marathon or climbing the perilous mountains of jueyun karst—for the first time, it was conceivable that perhaps you and chongyun weren’t permanently stuck as friends. and it seemed like you weren’t the only one who thought so.

↪︎ chongyun glanced down at his lap with a subdued smile. “you know, it’s funny,” he began. “all this time, you’ve calmed me down and kept my yang energy at bay. but recently, i’ve felt inexplicably strange around you. i feel warm a lot, and, well…”

↪︎ he trailed off with a sheepish laugh. “especially when you touch me.” and he didn’t say it, but his words implied that just like you, he was confused at the sudden change.

↪︎ your heart melted at his honesty. “chongyun,” you whispered under your breath, almost as if testing his name on your lips for the first time—but in a different way. “i thought i was going crazy. so it’s not just me?”

↪︎ his grin was brilliant—you wanted to kiss him right then and there. “it’s not just you, no.”

↪︎ later, when chongyun hunted xingqiu down to beat him up for what he had said, the mischievous boy once again smiled. “well i wasn’t wrong, was i?”

↪︎ chongyun’s flustered silence prompted hearty laughter from the bookworm.

↪︎ xingqiu observed the pink flush on his friend’s cheeks, the fidgety hands, the quick breathing—but no wild behavior, as one would expect if it was chongyun’s yang energy acting up—and so he came to his final conclusion.

↪︎ “you, my dearest friend, are in love!” he sang jovially, making grand, flourishing gestures with his arms all the while. and chongyun just stood incredulous at this sudden realization—even though it came from xingqiu, he knew he couldn’t deny it.

↪︎ he surmised that you probably still suppressed his yang energy, but this didn’t mean he was immune to the effects of.. liking someone. he had never expected to feel a normal blush or a normal quick heartbeat (as normal as those things can be)—was this how everyone else felt when they got excited? and they didn’t have to worry about going off the rails?

↪︎ meanwhile, on your end of things, you were surrounded by a near flock of the liyue girls. xiangling, hu tao, xinyan and yunjin were all firing off questions at the same time as if interrogating you, but their faces were smothered with giddy, good-natured grins. 

↪︎ ..though hu tao’s smile always looks somewhat evil… but i digress.

↪︎ “did you kiss yet?” little 13-year-old xiangling asked imploringly, bouncing up and down and looking like she may explode at any present moment. warmth flooded your face for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and you shook your head vigorously–it would have been the completely wrong moment, you wailed desperately. all the girls cried out in disappointment.

↪︎ hu tao was a year older than you—16, like xingqiu—but she seemed to find so much pleasure in teasing her juniors. “have you kissed someone yet, xiangling?” she inquired suspiciously, not expecting much of an answer. but the tiny chef actually perked up.

↪︎ “yes, i have, thank you very much,” she hummed proudly, crossing her arms.

↪︎ like a chorus, the girls all screamed, “WHO?”

↪︎ who, indeed? unfortunately, it would remain a mystery, as the little girl’s only answer was the smug grin she sported on her lips. perhaps she had never really kissed anyone at all, but it was more fun to believe otherwise.

#not my most elegant piece D: but all that matters is im posting it!! finally!! yeah!! #chongyun x reader #chongyun #genshin impact chongyun #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #chongyun gi #gi chongyun #mujimade #this has been in my drafts for months ..... which is the exact opposite of how i intended this to be #but. whatever #im just posting it now because i just cant make it perfect and its stupid of me to keep busting my ass over it when i could just post it

[minimujina]

ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴏɴᴀᴛᴀ !

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs. venti, thoma, kazuha, xiao, albedo

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. the boys x ballerina reader; kazuha’s a flirt; albedo’s a menace and a tease :)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. she/her pronouns used. normally i write in 2nd person, but i didn’t even realize i wrote in 3rd person here, so i just went with it. im so sorry! also there’s lots of smooching :) none of it is sexual or meant to be interpreted that way, intimacy like that is just beautiful, or i use it as a sort of comedic medium (kazuha’s <3)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ. perhaps i’m biased as a dancer, but i’ve always wanted to write something like this :) hope you enjoy!

i worked very hard on this piece for a long time, so if you like it, reblogs are much appreciated <3

ᴠᴇɴᴛɪ’s breath caught when he saw the familiar silhouette of a girl at the foot of his statue. she had always left such a prominent impression on him that her form could never appear foreign to him, even in the cover of darkness. as usual, she was dancing without music, alone—but he knew that there was a content smile on her face. there always was.

the girl danced with such grace that the wind god was consumed by wonder; it ate his heart away bit by bit until he could feel and think of nothing but her. permanently imprinted in his mind was the image of the ballerina drifting elegantly along the ground as if it were ice, swaying in a nearly hypnotizing manner. she was so delicate, so gentle, so lovely—like a whisper in the wind, venti mused. her movements conveyed deep emotion without words, emotion that couldn’t be expressed by words. fabric fluttered around the girl as she twirled and leapt and leaned, arms following suit in a form not perfect, but uniquely beautiful.

every other night, the girl was there. every other night, venti came to watch. and every other night, he began to expect her. so when she started to arrive only every two nights, then every three, then four, the god’s smile fell when he watched her dance, because what he saw in her movements was no longer the same as it had been.

before, the girl’s dance seemed to be her expression of joy. she had looked so happy. now, her movements were slower. they were solemn. sorrowful. he saw it in the way her fingertips no longer reached for some invisible object like they used to, in the way her lips never once showed an inkling of a smile, in the way her elbows sagged in her arabesque. occasionally, she would simply stand with her head bowed, one leg crossed behind the other. it crushed venti's heart. even more dispiriting was when he could hear the girl humming a tune he did not know—and venti knew every tune. but now, all he identified in the girl’s humming was a song of broken desperation.

so the god stepped forward into the light, startling her slightly, but she saw that it was only the bard. the bard, who had unashamedly pursued her for quite some time now—chasing her around mondstadt with his lyre while he tried to convince her to go on tour with him; the bard, who reminded her of a child's laughter and the smell of a summer breeze; the bard, who had surprised her with new shoes to dance in when her own had become much too worn. the ballerina had witnessed the sides of this flirtatious and fun-loving musician that no one else had.

her lips melted into a sad smile, and she welcomed him with open arms.

before venti enveloped her in his embrace, he lifted his lyre into the air; it floated on its own and began to play a much lighter—but still mellow—tune. it was a clear invitation to waltz, the lyre swaying mischievously as if encouraging her to just go on and dance already. the girl’s surprise was evident, but when the hands of the bard found her hips, everything melted into the background except for him.

venti guided the ballerina, letting his own joy pour into the movements in hopes that the girl would find her own. his hands brushed around her waist as she pirouetted three, four, five times, her arms floating above her head. as she came to a stop, the two faced each other once more, and venti could finally see that beautiful smile of hers again; her cheeks flushed, hair messed, and eyes bright, venti thought that no one could be more lovely. and he told her so, too, as he brushed stray hairs from her face, his touch like lightning on her skin.

they danced to the lyre until their feet stung and muscles ached, but their faces were sore from smiles and laughter. they had waltzed until dawn, and now the townspeople's chatter began to rise like heat, sending the ballerina into a sudden panic. their night of solitude and fairy tale-esque atmosphere had ended rather promptly, and her heart was beginning to feel the effects.

"hey, hey! it's okay!" venti murmured, placing the girl's hands in between his own. "do you trust me?"

she tilted her head. "i...i think so? what kind of question is that? are you gonna do something weird?”

venti's grin turned from sweet to sly, hands snaking around her torso to hold her to his side. "oh, no," the girl laughed nervously. "no, no, no, venti--"

but then the two were up in the air, blurred scenery of the city of freedom and its surroundings rushing past. the ballerina clung to the bard for dear life, barely managing to bite back her screams of terror; yet as quickly as the journey had begun, it ended, and the they landed in a secluded clearing of trees and underbrush.

as the couple composed themselves, little birds and squirrels began to approach them meekly, and venti swore the girl’s eyes lit with a joy like fire in that moment. she chittered back at the small animals in what most would consider just a goofy voice—but to venti, it was goofy and incredibly endearing.

after resting their achy muscles for a good while, and perhaps sharing a kiss or two (or seven), their waltz started back up right where they had left off, animals of all kinds hidden away in the trees to watch the lovely scene unfold.

every second ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀ waited, the eagerness in his heart grew.

she visited komore teahouse every so often, needing a place to stay after a performance or during travels, and every time, without fail, thoma somehow managed to fall more in love with her.

even when she wasn’t dancing, she was the embodiment of grace—lovely, gentle, charming. thoma could barely restrain himself from following her around like a puppy at all hours of the day just to see her smile and laugh and, well, dance. he loved nothing more than watching her dance, for when she did so it was clear that she was the fullest version of herself. the most happy. the most confident. the most free.

but thoma had no idea that the ballerina happened to be quite in love with him, too. half of the times she came to the teahouse with the explanation that she’d just had a performance were lies—she came simply to spend time with the housekeeper of the kamisato clan, just because she liked him.

“i’m bored,” the girl murmured, resting her chin in her palm to stare at the man across from her. they’d just finished eating a meal thoma had prepared which was, as usual, perfect.

thoma felt a slight panic rise in his chest. did he do something wrong?

but a sudden smile lit up her features as she sat up straighter, wiping any negative thought clean from thoma’s mind.

“let’s dance,” she whispered, a certain fire in her expression that only appeared when such prospects came about.

“what?” did he hear her right? thoma couldn’t dance. thoma was a housekeeper.

“i said let’s dance, pretty boy!” she laughed, wrapping her hands around his upper arm and pulling him to stand. “it doesn’t have to be perfect—you just do what you feel like doing.”

leaving him with an eager grin, she rushed to the music player in the corner of the room, picking a song so unlike anything he’d ever heard the ballerina dance to. it was upbeat, playful, and completely foreign to him, though he wasn’t against it at all. in fact, he felt his chest flutter in excitement as the girl shuffled back to him, beginning to move to the music.

what she did was completely different than her normal style of dance. while the ballet was beautiful and graceful, and she did indeed look happy when pirouetting and leaping, what thoma saw before him was a new side to the girl that he might’ve liked even more.

silly. joyful. bouncy. fun. the girl twirled herself around before grabbing his hands, saying, “come on!” in a sing-song voice. the girl lead him in a kind of duet where their hands were clasped as they danced; a lot of leg-kicking was involved, as well as switching positions with a twirl, or four. the music sounded vaguely familiar to thoma, which was odd, since he was sure he’d never heard it in his life.

“what is this?” thoma laughed, struggling to get a hang of the footwork, but enjoying the feeling of the girl’s soft hands in his own.

she beamed up at him, unable to hide the excited blush on her cheeks. “it’s called the charleston!” she exclaimed, twisting her hips with a laugh. “it’s not from here.” she would’ve liked to tell him where it came from, but that was an unfortunate secret she wasn’t allowed to disclose.

“i’m terrible at this, but i love it,” thoma yelled over the music as he tried to copy the girl’s movements. they danced until the end of the song, chatting and laughing until their lungs hurt from breathlessness; and as the last beat of the song died out, thoma and the girl collapsed in a heap of giggles, bodies cradling each other, their hands still tangled.

the atmosphere gradually became more calm as the two rested. thoma couldn’t help but say what had been burning at the back of his mind for so long now.

“sometimes…i wish you came around more,” he mumbled. “no, always. i always miss you when you leave, you know that?”

thoma ran his thumb over the back of her hand wistfully, waiting for a response. the only thing he got, however, was a brief kiss smack dab on the lips and a smile that could shame the stars. but these affirmed him better than any words could.

he was shocked—not that he didn’t like it. he’d wanted to do that for a while now. so, after seeing her happy little grin as she leaned over him, he took the liberty to lean back in, stealing as many kisses as he wanted. between each kiss, he mumbled ridiculously sappy and sweet things such as, “my pretty ballerina…” “my tiny dancer…” “my little cookie crumb…” (she barked out a laugh at the last one).

the girl reluctantly received every single kiss and comment, barely holding back her laughter at his too-sweet attitude. thoma knew what he was doing, and he only continued amusedly. “my beautiful, beautiful sugar plum fairy…” another kiss, more laughter, and thoma’s hands gliding along her hips to pull her closer.

“thoma, you’re killing me here,” she cried, crumbling into a fit of giggles as he attacked her face with more smooches. cheek, forehead, nose, lips, temple—nowhere was safe.

the ballerina ended up coming to komore teahouse even more often than before, and it wasn’t uncommon to find her at kamisato estate either, “bothering” thoma while he was supposed to be working.

ᴋᴀᴢᴜʜᴀ met her on the crux. she often had to travel between inazuma and liyue for shows, and beidou was more than happy to have her as a stowaway—especially when she found out just how much kazuha liked her.

well, it was apparent that the feeling was mutual, because not once, not twice, but three times did beidou catch kazuha and the ballerina making out in some discreet corner of the ship. young love, she mused. it made sense, didn’t it? a poet and a dancer? regardless, she snapped at them each time (affectionately), threatening to separate them if they couldn’t stop snogging each others’ faces off on her goddamn pirate ship. she was met only by childish giggles and kazuha’s dramatized smooching sounds in response.

but hey, how could they help it? they only saw each other every so often. they completed each other, they said, and perhaps this was true—the ballerina would listen with heart-shaped pupils as kazuha recited his sappy, lovely poetry; she flitted to and fro when he played his music, pirouetting to her heart’s content. they had an intimacy so innocent and incomparably tender that beidou often pretended to be seasick. “you’re gonna give me a cavity, assholes,” she would mutter as she passed by the couple, who had practically no space in between them as they “snogged each other’s faces off.”

kazuha was no ballerino, but he could certainly dance a duet. mostly, he loved to hold her hand or support her weight while she twirled and leapt—although he was quite guilty of interrupting her practice with distracting things like hugging her waist or tenderly kissing the back of her neck. each time kazuha committed such an act, he was met with a playful smile, but was ceremoniously and smugly corrected to place his hands on her hips, not his arms. then such distractions could be avoided. he would hum and agree, but just keep doing the same thing, kissing her neck with a grin as she struggled to pry off his leech-like grasp.

eventually, she would have to give in, but kazuha’s hold wouldn’t loosen—his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her ever closer as if this is the last time they’d see each other.

it struck her then that that was actually true—though not for a while, at least. she was going to leave the crux when they arrived to inazuma, and he was going to stay on board; it was likely they wouldn’t see each other for several months. the thought made her skin prickle uncomfortably, so instead she focused on her poet’s hands gliding around her hips.

“zuha,” she whispered. “when will i see you again after this?”

his expression became grim and his movements faltered, but he turned her around and tenderly kissed her forehead in response as if to comfort her worries. they both knew the answer to her question—not soon enough.

“why do you have to leave again? can’t you come off the boat with me? just for a little while?” she was close to tears at this point, tired of losing her love to distance. kazuha pulled her into a gentle hug. once again, they both knew the answer to her question.

kazuha was a wanted criminal in inazuma. if he got off the boat, the ballerina would lose him for good.

so they made the most of their time together, dancing and singing and laughing and kissing until beidou couldn’t stand it anymore (“you kids are gonna eat each other’s faces off, i swear,” she grumbled). however, the captain had no choice but to let it pass when she saw the crew members of the crux smiling and laughing, too, even joining in on the dancing and singing. when tasks were light, kazuha and the ballerina often led spontaneous group dances where most of the crew either joined of their own volition or followed reluctantly by means of force.

when the time came for goodbyes, the ballerina was very tearful, like always. kazuha had composed himself, but he felt deep turmoil at having to leave her again. but soon, he thought. soon they’d be together again. i just have to be patient, he told himself, wiping away his darling’s tears and kissing her forehead with a gentleness that was so characteristic of him.

patient.

how could he be patient?

kazuha knew that he could never be patient again. not after how long he’d spent with her, how deeply he had cherished her presence, how much he had kissed her and loved her and sang for her and danced with her. kazuha was not going to wait. kazuha was not going to leave her again. he didn’t care what it took—if he got arrested, if he died.

but the ballerina knew. kazuha had this look in his eye that said everything he was thinking—such teary desperation, overwhelming sadness, and anger.

she wouldn’t let him come after her. the risk was too great.

this spelled the beginning of a heated debate, one which beidou had to disarm very carefully as if tip-toeing through a minefield. once she was finally able to knock some sense into romeo and juliet, she stated very directly, “kazuha can stay with the resistance on watatsumi. problem solved? yes? okay, great. now kiss, you two—i’m getting bored.”

xɪᴀᴏ would never associate himself with mortals. he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, not only because he didn’t want to harm them with his karma, but also because most of them were just annoying.

however, there seemed to be a mortal girl he considered to be noticeably less annoying than the rest, given that he allowed her to bring him almond tofu and sit next to him on the roof of wangshu inn. he tolerated her, was all he said when questioned suggestively by the owner of the inn.

the girl in question came to wangshu inn often to perform, as she was a travelling dancer and moved all around teyvat, but her favorite place to reside for long periods of time had always been liyue. this may or may not have been due to the presence of a certain adeptus. was she herself aware of this? not consciously, no. all she knew was that she always felt safe in liyue, as if protected by someone or something, and something about the place was simply attractive to her. she couldn't help but be drawn to the picturesque landscapes of jueyun karst, the warm and charming qingce village, and liyue harbor's lively atmosphere. it felt like home away from home.

xiao just happened to be surveilling the area around wangshu inn when the cliché occurred—the ballerina was meandering down the road to the inn for the first time, drinking in the sights with her small bag clutched before her, when a group of treasure hoarders approached. xiao had disarmed a great many similar situations, so it was no surprise to him when the thieves surrounded the girl threateningly, making her feel small and helpless with their jeering and suggestive whistling. xiao’s heart lurched in disgust.

“get lost,” the adeptus growled before anything more could occur, brandishing his spear as he sauntered toward the band of ruffians. the clear leader puffed up his chest in challenge, but the rest merely shuffled uncomfortably and glanced at each other, seemingly at a loss for whether to flee or fight.

“are you stupid?” the yaksha tilted his head in question; but before anyone could act, the surrounded girl suddenly whirled her travel bag, sweeping the lead thief right off his feet. he landed on his bum with a thunk. the other thieves bristled angrily, beginning to move towards her, but they had all been knocked out by xiao before a single hand could be laid upon her. the leader of the group, as the only one conscious, whimpered pathetic apologies while he scrambled to his feet and scurried away like a rodent.

this was how xiao and the ballerina first met.

her eyes were filled with wonder and appreciation as she profusely thanked the adeptus, but he dismissed her with discomfort, departing in that abrupt way of his—teleportation. she remained in the same place for a long time after his leave, heart beating in her ears, limbs tingly with anticipation. though xiao had disappeared from her sight, he had not traveled far. he watched the girl as she stood, eyes transfixed on her stunned figure until she finally began down the road. if anyone asks, he definitely did not follow her all the way to the inn to make sure she stayed safe. and he definitely did not give the stink eye to anyone who even glanced at her.

to xiao’s faux dismay, the girl became enamored with him. she considered herself in debt to him for saving her life no matter how much he insisted that he didn’t care. she knew that xiao at least didn’t hate her, just by the fact that he still talked to her. and she was right. he acted annoyed and distant, but he truly cherished the moments where she sought him out at the inn and sat next to him at the edge of the balcony, leaning on the rails and swinging her legs restlessly. that was one thing he thought was amusing about her—she was never still, never had been still in all the time that he’d known her. xiao supposed this simply came with her love of dancing and moving.

one of the ballerina’s proudest moments was when she managed to make xiao smile. they were alone on the balcony of the inn as usual, xiao staring into the horizon while the girl danced gracefully behind him to a silent tune. it would occasionally manifest in a hum, the volume jumping in intervals at extreme movement, but xiao was lulled by her voice nevertheless. he refused to face her in fear that she would see past his tough facade, because if he saw her smile, he was sure he would fall apart.

that is, until she slipped and fell. xiao’s head whirled to the sound of the crash, eyes darkening at her crumpled form. “i told you it’s not safe when you’re wearing socks,” he grumbled, helping her up by the hands. once standing, her grip on him tightened, refusing to let go even when he pulled. he glanced up to see the girl grinning mischievously.

“let go,” threatened the yaksha, but the girl was unrelenting. “i will get you to dance with me, xiao,” she smiled, beginning to move and pull him along.

he shook his head profusely, voice rising in pitch as he growled, “no, no you will not. i will not dance with you, mortal.”

“oh, xiao, you know my name by now.”

“i won’t dance with you.”

“but you already are!”

and with that, the ballerina released him with a reserved smile and continued her solo, but now xiao couldn’t look away. he was trapped, watching her dainty form as if in a trance. he was grinning before he knew it, even if it was just a slight upturn of the lips.

the ballerina had seen it, but this was for her only to know. she took hold of him once more, not daring to mention his smile—but now he was more willing to comply, intertwining his fingers with hers, placing one hand on her waist, and responding to her movements gently. she had done it—tamed the beast, danced with him, made him smile. her heart swelled with accomplishment, as well as admiration for the adeptus before her.

they seemed as if paintbrushes dusting across a canvas in the way that they moved, waltzing on the balcony with the kind of silent delight one finds in solitude. they were alone together, not a distraction in sight, allowing xiao to focus on one thing for the first time in his elongated, exhausting existence—the way she smiled. his life had always been dark. it consumed him day by day, the pain inflating like a balloon in his chest, fuzz clouding his vision until there was nothing left but a numb sort of grief. but the way she smiled? it washed away the fuzz. it popped the swelling balloon in his chest. he could see again; he could breathe again. he felt his face muscles lift to mirror the ballerina’s innocent grin as they twirled across the balcony in a dazed stupor, and xiao thought that he’d never experienced something so simply profound.

all in all, he was quite soft deep down.

as a master of alchemy, ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ wasn’t really one to pursue frivolous affairs of the heart, those frivolous affairs being crushes or anything to do particularly with love. but aside from being a scientist, he was also a painter—he could appreciate art when he saw it and was not incapable of finding the aesthetic beauty in things. his deepest desire would always be to watch the universe expand, break it all apart so that he could understand it, then build it back together again; but albedo’s love of art swelled to meet this desire when he encountered a ballerina, and all his preconceptions of love were thrown out the window.

her downright indifference to him was what spurred albedo on in his pursuit. he masked his intentions with the claim that he wanted to study the ballerina and her dancing, both for science and his paintings. he hadn’t fooled her, this was obvious, but she was so unbothered by his false motives that she played along anyways. she wasn’t quite sure what he really wanted, but whatever it was, she was certain that she wouldn’t mind it, given he was just a harmless scientist—as she saw him, anyways.

those who had pegged albedo as the type of intellectual to be inept at love couldn’t have been more wrong—he was wildly flirtatious when he had his wits and confidence about him. just because he normally didn’t take advantage of his attractiveness and focused on his work didn’t mean he couldn’t court somebody properly, by all means!

the ballerina was truly charmed by his efforts, but she kept that to herself, along with all of the letters and paintings and sketches he had sent to her from dragonspine when he was unable to see her, or she him. it was her guilty pleasure to read them over again and again, tummy fluttering unwillingly.

the girl had no clue just how infatuated albedo was with her. something about the artfulness of ballet and the beauty of human movement had inspired and entranced him, and since she was the embodiment of such things, naturally he was drawn to her. the more and more albedo saw her, the more and more his appreciation for her dance grew; and then it became a sort of cycle, where his appreciation for her dance trickled down into love for her as a person. he found himself unable to focus on his experiments and research, instead wishing he could watch her dance all day—or perhaps, he could dance with her. that was something he’d have liked to try, though he was certain his lack of experience would be his downfall in that activity.

despite her soft-spoken nature, sucrose—albedo’s assistant—couldn’t help herself from telling the ballerina many of the things her teacher had accidentally imparted to her, the subject usually being the ballerina herself. sucrose wasn’t a gossip at all, no! she was simply trying to help the girl realize just how much albedo thought of her. as much as the man was charming, at the moment he seemed to be tarrying, as if his courage and energy were waning. all sucrose wanted was for the both of her dear friends to be well and happy (and in love).

this opened the ballerina’s eyes, promoting her to understand albedo’s actions a bit more. when he made advances, she didn’t resist so blatantly, instead finding herself to even be a little bashful.

the girl’s favorite pastime was speaking to albedo in french, her hometown being fontaine. it amused her that this was the one advantage she would have over him, probably ever. that is…until he inevitably decided to learn it for himself. he would probably master it within weeks with that brain of his.

“ta cervelle est assez drôle (your mind is rather funny),” the ballerina mused, observing albedo during his work time. the man replied without so much as batting an eyelash to her, “i told you to stop doing that until i’ve learned it myself.”

“arrêtez quoi ?” (stop what?) her voice was lilting and musical, as if trying to push him to his limits.

“there you go again, being coy,” the scientist murmured, still focused on his work. “perhaps you’ve stopped playing hard to get, no? do you actually like me now?”

she hesitated. but since she believed he couldn’t understand her, she ended up pouring her heart out.

“c’est pas que je t’aimais pas,” she mumbled. “j’appréciais toujours ton compagnie, sincèrement. en fait, je pense…je pense que je t’ai toujours aimé.” (it’s not that i didn’t like you. i always enjoyed your company, sincerely. in fact, i think…i think i’ve always loved you.)

albedo paused in his work. he spun around to face the girl, an unreadable expression on his face.

“i’ve always loved you too,” he said, a whisper of a smile gracing his lips.

so this asshole really did know how to speak french.

“il y a beaucoup de choses que tu connais pas sur moi, ma ballerine.” (there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, my ballerina.)

“tais-toi.” (shut up.)

“ouch, how rude. i thought you loved me,” albedo teased. at this point, both were standing, and he was inching closer to her by the second, each footstep slow and meticulous. the girl’s heart thumped in her ears like a drum; she was still in shock from the fact that she had just accidentally poured her heart out to him. he knew now. he knew.

but all he asked of her was one dance. one dance, and he wouldn’t tease her about it anymore.

her agreement led to the two waltzing around albedo’s workshop, the passage of time forgotten amidst glowing smiles and the touch of each other’s hands. of course, he had no trouble picking up the steps or getting the hang of the movement’s flow. she wondered how he could be so well-versed in quite literally everything—he was truly a gift.

many “tais-toi”’s were uttered that day, albedo’s teasing being unrelenting despite his promise. he claimed that they hadn’t danced enough yet for his standard, so he still had teasing rights. of course, it turned out that this scale of “enough dancing” was decided wholly by albedo, so he could claim that no amount of dancing was enough and potentially tease her for the rest of time if he so wished. and oh, did he wish.

𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ❤︎

also, i am obviously not a native french speaker, so if there are any mistakes or strangely worded parts in the dialogue of albedo’s, please let me know!! im just a student and it’s only my first year learning :)

#KINDA CRINGE BUT UMMM YEAH #kinda disappointef with thoma’s but aaa its ok #mujimade #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #venti x reader #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #venti #thoma #kazuha #albedo #finally decided to just post t #wa rotting in my drafts for a while bc i wanted it to be perfect i guess #but like ?? why #it just matters if i like it right #so ye s

[minimujina]

Bᴀɴᴅᴀɪᴅs & ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs. chongyun, bennett, xingqiu

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. reader has a hydro vision and is a healer :) gotta take care of these reckless boys

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. none ! JUST FLUFFY AND OCCASIONAL KISSING BC I WANNA KISS :-(

ᴄʜᴏɴɢʏᴜɴ was incredibly dedicated to his training, more so than anybody you had ever met—and this meant that sometimes, he injured himself more than anybody you had ever met.

perhaps he had ventured into jueyun karst on one of xingqiu’s cruel wild goose chases, searching for an evil spirit to expel, but instead he got into a tussle with a mitachurl; he may have slipped and fallen from a high ledge during his training; or maybe he overheated too much and passed out. these were all common occurrences, so it was up to you to figure out which one had taken place every time he called for your assistance. well, more like xingqiu called for your assistance—chongyun didn’t like to ask for your help so much.

you assured him it was no problem, since he was your friend and you were often concerned for him. you didn’t like that he was so reckless in his desire to be an exorcist, so you always left him with a kiss on the cheek and a plead to be careful. needless to say that consequently, he remained blushy and flustered for quite some time even after your leave.

because of your hydro vision, the two of you worked well together. if you ever happened to stumble into a sticky situation with some hilichurls or fatui agents, you summoned the energy coursing through your veins to create a flurry of water, whirling it in the direction of the enemies while chongyun used his cryo vision in tandem. everything in your path was frozen, every enemy still as a statue, until chongyun had finished them all off with his greatsword.

noticing a large gash on his arm through his black undershirt, you cried out your concern and rushed to him to inspect the wound, forcing him to sit down on a boulder. the boy’s cheeks blushed deep red when a little water frog shaped from your vision hopped up to him, acting as a distraction while you healed his wound. his laughter nearly caused you to make a mistake in the process, but you stuck with it, finishing to find chongyun giggling with the frog in his hand. the sight made a flurry of butterflies erupt in your tummy.

before you had even realized you were doing it, the water shifted shape from a frog to a fish; the creature floated up to chongyun’s face, making brief contact with his nose as if to kiss it. if it was possible, his blush deepened further, but it was soon rivaled by your own—you hadn’t meant to do that!!! water sure has a mind of its own… haha .. aha .. ..

chongyun suddenly gained a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before—was that confidence or deviousness? whatever it was, you recognized it from xingqiu, which was mildly upsetting, since the guhua geek was full of pranks and nonsense. you flinched as chongyun leaned toward you, heart pounding when he laced his hands with yours and brought them to his chest. this confidence of his was different from the times he overheated after eating jueyun chilis.

“i promise i’ll protect you,” he murmured all of a sudden, noses almost touching. you nodded nervously—you knew this already. it was something he had told you before, the last time you’d gotten into a bit of danger yourself. all you had to do was stick by his side.

chongyun also knew how much you worried about him. “and i promise i won’t die. for you.”

you giggled quietly at his seriousness, reaching up to tenderly brush some hair out of his eyes. “you couldn’t do that for yourself? or xingqiu? or your family?”

he breathed out one of his rare laughs, short and like a chuckle—though that sly grin accompanying it was off-putting to you. “you think you’re so funny,” he muttered. “you know what i mean.”

you grinned. “but do i? do i really know, chongyun?” at your cheeky comment, his hands moved from grasping your own to circle your waist, pulling you flush against him.

chongyun hummed thoughtfully. “i guess i’ll have to show you, then.”

oh, dear. dear, sweet, precious ʙᴇɴɴᴇᴛᴛ. you swear that this boy will be the death of you someday.

oh, no, not at all because of his so-called “bad luck” that himself and others liked to pin on him. it’s because this “bad luck,” which you chalked up to recklessness and selflessness, got him hurt so often that you swore you were going to have a heart attack.

when you first asked to join benny’s adventure team, he was absolute garbage at hiding his clear excitement. “you—you would want to—you would join my…?” but his stuttering of disbelief would soon be replaced by adamant refusal.

“you’ll get hurt if you join me,” he stated, suddenly looking very downtrodden, but he was doing his best to put on a front of confidence. “i can’t let that happen.”

you mustered all the gusto within yourself to link arms with him and say, “so, don’t let it happen.”

he was so taken aback he could only stare at you with his mouth agape like a fish. you grinned with a sharp inhale and declared, “i’m coming with you, and that’s final. if you don’t want me to get hurt, then don’t let me get hurt. and i’ll take care of the both of us. there’s a reason i have a vision, too.”

and from that moment onward, bennett was to you more precious than any mineral in teyvat, any sum of mora, any treasure chest that could lie in wait for benny’s adventure team. the boy risked his life constantly to protect you (even though you were capable of doing so yourself!! but you figured, what good would you be to benny heavily injured, or worse, dead?), and you had to admit you enjoyed the moments where everything in the world seemed quiet and it was just the two of you, bennett waiting patiently as you inspected his wounds.

these moments felt oddly sweet, and would occasionally end up with you leaning your head on his shoulder (the one that wasn’t covered in cuts, anyway), tenderly lacing your soft hand with his calloused one. you liked the feeling of his rough fingers; you admired all of his scars; you appreciated every piece of evidence of his hard work and dedication. you often told him how proud you were of him, after which you would pinch his arm for being too reckless. he would glow in secret satisfaction, his hand unconsciously squeezing yours as his heart swelled.

sometimes you couldn’t help but be selfish, wanting bennett all to yourself. he would try to leave to patrol around where the two of you were resting for a moment, but you would launch yourself onto his back, hugging him until he conceded to stay through muffled laughter. he let you bring him to the ground and wrap your arms around his torso even tighter, nuzzling into him as if this were the last time you could hug him.

“i worry about you sometimes, you know,” you mumbled. “a lot, actually.”

bennett was shocked to hear a little sniffle—were you crying?

he made you look at him, frowning to see a little tear slip down your cheek. he hurriedly swiped it away, holding your face gently. “no, no,” he murmured, trying to quash your sadness with a smile. “don’t cry!! it’s okay!!” he squished your cheeks, attempting to make you laugh successfully.

“i have you to make sure i don’t get scraped up too much! and i’m here to make sure you don’t get scraped up either, okay? i’m used to it. i can get hurt. but i can’t let you get hurt, okay?”

this only made you continue crying. his words almost made you wanna hit his chest—“stupid, stupid bennett,” you blurbed, words watery and muffled by sniffles. “stupid bennett!! you’re too selfless! think about yourself, just once!!”

he had no idea what to say to that, so he just pulled you up to a proper sitting position and held you in his arms so you could cry out everything you’d been holding in. he didn’t realize how much you cared for him—it almost made him wanna cry himself. this was the first time someone had displayed such affection for him before, and it was so heart-warming, but also heart-breaking. your little sobs made bennett’s chest constrict.

“what can i do to make you stop worrying about me? i’ll be okay!” he whispered, rubbing your back gently. you sighed, giving him a squeeze.

“if you could just…just be careful. and let me fret over you…it would make me feel better.”

bennett laughed heartily and agreed to be as safe as he could, though deep down he knew he would always have bad luck. but that was on his own—now that he had you, things didn’t seem so terrible. in fact, things were quite good after all. he’d struck the best treasure in teyvat when he got you.

the first half of xɪɴɢǫɪᴜ's chivalrous pursuits often included applaudable acts such as saving victims of treasure hoarders, taking down a particularly vicious mitachurl, or rescuing children from a surprise whopperflower. but the other half had solely to do with courting you. sometimes you would actually wake up to find a bundle of flowers in your kitchen.

since he already followed you everywhere, you were no stranger to the various injuries xingqiu showed up with. unlike the other boys, you never had to chase him down—he came to you, waving his arm around dramatically and brandishing his wounds with pride just to get your attention. he pretended like he was so graceful and put together around anybody else, but with you, recklessness granted him more of your attention. so, reckless he became. he also somehow did this without abandoning his devious and slick attitude that flustered you so much.

he would be nonchalant about it, claiming the cuts didn’t hurt (after he had so dramatically whined in public until you dragged him into your house), but when you rolled up his sleeve it was revealed that he got into more trouble than you thought. looking up and meeting his eyes, you couldn’t parse his true feelings out, but you could tell he was in quite a bit of pain.

“oh, xingqiu,” you sighed solemnly. “when will you learn?”

when will you learn that i like you just fine without you getting hurt so much?

while you were focused on healing him, xingqiu was focused on your face. he was focused on your light blush, on your shifty gaze, on your trembling lips. he was mighty curious—if he kissed you right now, just how flustered would you be? he had to hold back a laugh just thinking about it, the product being one of his evil-looking smiles that was so off-putting to you.

“what’s that smile for?” you mumbled, eyeing him suspiciously.

“nothing, my liege. you’re just stunning, is all.”

that comment earned him red cheeks from you. however, you said nothing, only continuing to handle his wound with care. each touch of your fingers to his arms sent goosebumps all over his body.

an entire minute passed before you grumbled, “you’re so blunt sometimes, qiu.”

“only about things that are true.” as he replied, he leaned dangerously close to your face with a boyish grin, making you squeak and lean away. he laughed good-naturedly while watching you squirm; he enjoyed teasing you just to see your calm demeanor fall apart.

“you’re terrible,” you cried, trying to stand and leave in defiance, but xingqiu’s hand on your wrist stopped you. looking back, the expression on his face was one of panic and concern—had he gone too far this time?

“wait,” he floundered, his shaky hand retracting from your arm. “i’m sorry. are you okay?”

you began to giggle lightheartedly, realizing he took what you had said as genuine. you plopped down on the wooden floor next to him again. “of course i’m okay! i was only joking! i’m sorry, qiu.”

xingqiu’s face melted in relief. “you scared me. i thought i’d hurt you.”

you smiled affectionately, placing your hand on the boy’s soft cheek. “you could never hurt me. i’m just easy to tease, is all. and you know that.”

that mischievous grin of his returned. “and that’s why i do it. you look very cute when you’re flustered.”

“yeah, yeah, pretty boy. whatever. now let me fix your dumb arm before it gets infected.”

but you were slightly distracted by the way xingqiu leaned forward and promptly placed his lips on yours—just a tad put off-task.

the two of you proceeded to forget all about xingqiu’s minor wound, spending the rest of the day in each other’s embrace. eventually, you wound up cuddling in bed while xingqiu read a book, you in between his legs with one of his arms wrapped around your middle, the other holding the book out. you gladly snuggled into his chest, promising yourself that you’d see to the rest of his scrapes and bruises tomorrow.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ Fᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ♥︎

#the title means alcohol for injuries you stinker😡😡 #mujimade #chongyun #bennett #xingqiu #genshin impact x reader #chongyun x reader #bennett x reader #xingqiu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin chongyun #genshin bennett #genshin xingqiu #genshin blog #genshin writers #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

[minimujina]

ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs. thoma, kazuha, childe, chongyun, venti

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. the boys comfort an anxious reader

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ. anxiety sucks :( tw for mentions of it, but nothing super serious or descriptive!! this is just comfort. i wanted to write something important to me for my first work on this account, and we could all use some comfort. so i hope this maybe brings you some solace for at least a moment if you are struggling right now <3 you are never, ever alone.

ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀ is a gentle and thoughtful soul. empathetic, kind-hearted, and experienced in the field of comfort, he has no problem consoling you in your state of anxiety, nor is he bothered by it or repelled by the things you tell him. he’ll retrieve whatever needs retrieving—tissues, chocolate, a big comfy shirt, water—and he’ll kiss whatever needs kissing. when you feel at your worst, he takes you in his arms and smooches the top of your head, engulfing you in a big teddy bear hug as if to protect you from anything and everything wishing you harm.

all he wants is for you to know that things will be okay soon. he wants you to feel safe. he’s really good at telling when you’re not well either in public or if you’re lying about being fine—he knows your triggers and your tells like the back of his hand. overwhelmed? thoma is steering you away from prying eyes with his hand on the small of your back, taking you somewhere private to hold your hands and kiss your tears away. sad? thoma’s already retrieved taromarou, placing the dog in front of you with that charming, lovable smile of his dazzling you into distraction. although anxiety waits for no one, thoma has his ways of persuasion. somehow, this man has managed to beat around the bush for you long enough to have these fleeting moments of peace.

ᴋᴀᴢᴜʜᴀ will slowly pull you to his chest, embracing you with one arm around your waist and the other holding your head close. he’ll mutter things like, “my dove, you should take a break,” or, “you’re safe with me, i promise,” rocking back and forth on his feet ever so slightly. when he pulls away, he looks at you with such concern that it makes you want to melt. if you inquire about this or insinuate that he shouldn’t worry about you, he’ll say, “i truly hate seeing you so sad, love.” he rests his soft hands on your cheeks, thumb smoothing over the streaks of tears that remain. “you’re so lovely. i wish you could see that.”

when around people and kazuha sees that look in your eye, that body language, that tapping foot, he tactfully distracts you until it’s possible to leave. you find yourself lost in his eyes as he grins at you so softly, the wind tossing your hair around and getting strands in your mouth just a bit (which was definitely kazuha’s attempt at trying to make you laugh). “oh, love, you seem to be having a bit of trouble. let me help you,” he laughs deviously, causing the wind to ruffle your hair even more. if that doesn’t work, he’ll ruin his own hair. then he’ll just kiss you. if you aren’t in public, he will make sure to give you the cuddles he believes you deserve; the kind where you forget whose limbs are whose because it’s all just a tangled mess, but that’s okay—you feel safe in this tangled mess.

ᴄʜɪʟᴅᴇ assures you that nothing you could ever say would shock him. he’s no stranger to dark thoughts (though perhaps his “dark thoughts” are different than yours); he would never judge you for what goes on in your mind. this strange fatui harbinger whom you had grown to love was your solace and your rock. when you felt consumed by anxiety, childe was there, scooping you into his arms, kissing you lovingly, telling you that it will be okay, he promises it will be okay. he becomes an entirely different person for you—sometimes you wonder which childe is the real one. who is ajax, really? but when you see him look at you like that, when he tells you he loves you so genuinely, when he stays up late with you to keep you company, you believe you do, in fact, know the real ajax.

he knows the two of you are very different, but in principle, he believes he understands you (which is up for you to decide if he really does or not). he’ll tell you how proud he is of you, running his hands through your hair before wrapping his arms around your waist again and burying his head in your neck. he despises the thought that you fight so many battles he can’t see; even more hurtful is the realization that the only battles he can’t fight are yours—and you are the love of his life, the one he wishes to fight for the most.

ᴄʜᴏɴɢʏᴜɴ finds himself glued to your side when he realizes how much you struggle. most previous signs of him being flustered or nervous around you vanish, as his desire to care for and protect you overwhelms his condition. if physical contact soothes you, no longer will he be hesitant, but instead he will confidently take your hands in his and run his thumbs over your knuckles. however, he still won’t be able to prevent the heat from rising to his face, giving you a sheepish smile when you point out his blush.

he might not fully understand what goes on in your head, but what he does grasp is the concept of “inner demons.” he constantly expresses his wish to expel what ails you; the innocent boy once said, “i don’t understand…my presence should be enough to drive the evil spirits away…why are you still in so much pain?” his eyes watered as he studied you, truly despairing at your invisible troubles. lovingly, with a sad smile, you placed your hand on his cold cheek and leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. “the place i feel most safe is with you,” you murmured, melting when chongyun’s arms coiled around your waist and pulled you to his chest.

ᴠᴇɴᴛɪ hums for you. your head in his lap or resting on his chest, he hums. he hums songs of both old and new, both memories from long ago and recent experiences; but what you don’t know is that most of the songs he so softly murmurs are songs of the purest kind of love. the lyrics that he does not speak are ones of his desire to protect you, his need to understand you. venti is no stranger to that achy feeling in one’s chest, that miserable, unexplainable emotion that sinks in and inflates your lungs like a balloon. he knows your desire to hide behind a curtain and tell yourself you’re fine, deny your suffering, but he refuses to let you waste away in pain like he has deep down. he loves you. he needs to show you how he loves you.

the vibrations of his voice as your head rests on his chest often soothe you to sleep. if only you heard the words he murmured while you drifted away—he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. venti brings you cecilias and windwheel asters from home, qingxin and glaze lillies from liyue. he plays his lyre for you and twirls you around in fields of dandelions, telling you how beautiful you are and how proud he is of you. he lays on the ground with you and holds your hand while you cry, leaning over you every once in a while to wipe away your tears. your silly bard, your joyful musician, your beautiful boy—he loves you. nothing could ever hurt him more than knowing you suffer the most on your own. so he kisses you and hugs you and makes you laugh, at least letting you know that he’ll be here, for eternity. and if he could have one thing for eternity, it would be you and your beautiful smile that you always reserve for him.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ❤︎ please take care of yourself today!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #reblogs appreciated! #mujimade #tw anxiety #thoma #venti x reader #genshin x reader #kazuha #childe #chongyun x reader #chongyun #venti #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x you #genshin writers #genshin blog #genshin community #genshin comfort #gn reader

[minimujina]

｡＊˚*✧･ﾟᴍᴜᴊɪ's мaѕтєʀʟιѕᴛ ｡＊˚*✧･ﾟ

♯mujimade (longer or more polished works)

comfort for a tired heart

bandaids and alcohol

moonlight sonata

amour d'enfance (chongyun)

docile darling (scaramouche)

opposites attract (heizou)

you make me so nervous !

the stimmies and the shimmies ! (wanderer)

warmth (chongyun)

i don’t need your help (wanderer)

♯mujimush (small drabbles, brainrots, and crack fics)

how they smell

gorou & thoma brainrot (ft. xiao & diluc) with ely

sayu accidentally calling u mom

kuni and back hugs

wanderlou drabble

-> series masterlists

man alive, mujina !

#mujimumbled #pinned #masterlist

[minimujina]

✧･ﾟ❦ ιɴϝᴏ ❦ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ❦ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ❦ ｡＊˚*✧･ﾟ｡

｡＊˚*✧･ﾟ｡ ❦ ᴡɪᴘs & ᴍᴏᴏᴛs ❦ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʀᴇqᴜᴇsᴛs . . . ˚ * ✧ ❦

‧͙⁺˚･☾＊*•̩̩͙✩ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑠 ✩•̩̩͙*˚☽･˚⁺

♯ mujimade -> my works

♯ mujimush -> small brainrots and drabbles !!

♯ mujimingled -> reblogs of other works

♯ mujimumbled -> my talkin tag :)

♯ mujimoots -> moot interactions

♯ mujinon: [anon name] -> named anons <3

♯ mujibox -> asks

‧͙⁺˚･☾＊*•̩̩͙✩ 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑐 ✩•̩̩͙*˚☽･˚⁺

𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑖 !

｡＊˚*✧･ﾟ𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒. 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑙 𝑖 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑎𝑎𝑎𝑎𝑎

@adventures-in-teyvat <- my incorrect quotes blog !

#also the tag ‘mujimujidaruma’ is like kind words and treasured asks. just felt like this was getting to cluttered so im sticking it downhere #too cluttered* #hee hoo #and im too lazy to make a new post for tags only because IDK IF THAT WILL MAKE IT MORE CLUTTERED hep .. hep me …… #mujimumbled #pinned