Ganyu - Blog Posts

Watching the fireworks like sisters

i got ganyu at 59 pity.

i was saving for kazuha.

all i wanted was kaveh

the one time i'm lucky i'm MAD ABOUT IT WTF

*BANGS ON TABLE* HELLO MAY I GET SOME HCS WHERE THE POMEFIORE TRIO WITH A FEM!S/O THATS BASED OFF OF GANYU PRETTY PLEASE 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

Good luck to the Ganyu wanters! May you all be Ganyu havers~

Pomefiore | Female reader | Headcanons

Vil is constantly worried about her health. She works day and night, and accepts her workload no matter how ridiculous they may seem. It’s no wonder that Crowley depends on her so much to keep the school in order, and Vil finds himself stepping in more often than he’d like to force her to rest. Seriously, he thinks that he might be losing precious sleep fretting over her getting enough sleep herself.

He initially didn’t understand what she meant when she told him that she’s worried she might not be able to control herself around the wild dandelions growing around the campus. Isn’t it natural to be attracted to flowers? So imagine his shock when he came across his darling chewing on raw dandelions in the sports field. He immediately strode over to her and smacked her back repeatedly, forcing her to spit them out. If she wants to eat dandelions that badly, then she should just tell him so he can whip up a plate of fresh spring salad for her!

Vil thought that she was a fae at first because of her black horns. They’re strikingly similar to Malleus’ that he even believed they were relatives, and he may or may not have been afraid of approaching her in the beginning.

Oh, she’s such a sweet soul that every day he feels blessed to be with someone so understanding. With her gentle disposition, she never once said anything or treated him in a way that made him feel like a villain. Perhaps he could be the Prince Charming in her story, and stand at the centre of her attention until the very end.

Despite her unconditional kindness, Vil could sense the loneliness she radiates. She has admitted to him that she struggles to feel a sense of belonging because of her origins but never divulged on her past. He’s not one to pry into people’s personal lives though and has all the patience in the world; he’s willing to wait until she’s ready to tell him her story.

When Rook first laid his eyes on her, he was immediately entranced by her horns. They remind him of Roi du Dragon’s, but their bright red markings make them look so unique! Despite her insecurity regarding them, he would shamelessly fawn over them whenever he has chance to. Horns or no horns, she’ll always be his petit lapin~

Her prowess with the bow had made him fall for her even harder (as if they’re not already dating lol) since he has a natural affinity for the bow as a hunter. Combined with her ice magic, every shot her fingers release creates an ephemeral winter wonderland that he can only marvel at for a mere second.

He thinks that the ice lotus she can cause to sprout on any surface is a sight to behold, but when she summons a Sacred Cryo Pearl that continuously rains down shards of ice in the air, his breath is snatched right out of his lungs. Who knew that she was capable of conjuring up such beautiful creations?

Although he wouldn’t be as shocked as Vil, he'd still be surprised if he catches her eating the wild dandelions growing around the campus. He has seen Ruggie collecting them before (hence his nickname) and can understand why he does it, but when he hears her reason of simply loving the taste of them, he’s speechless. Oh well, at least she’s not eating the white dandelions...

Rook often compares her to Silver because of her otherworldly aura and constant sleepiness. Unlike the narcoleptic knight however, she’d always catch herself before she completely gives in to the temptation of sleep. Should she fall asleep though, Rook would happily drape his blazer over slumbering form to keep her warm and also leave some yellow dandelions for her to snack on when she wakes up.

Epel really admires how hard she works and feels motivated to give it his all whenever he sees her diligence. How she’s able to handle the most arduous of workloads without complaint and conflict will always be a wonder to him, and he’d offer to help lessen her workload when he has the free time to.

Her ice magic is extremely useful in preserving his apple carvings because the ice she’s able to weave with her powers doesn’t melt easily. Not to mention, she can act as his walking air conditioner and cool him down after Magift Club... She can also serve chilled apple juice, ice bridge their way across a body of water... Just thinking about the utility of her magic excites him!

When Epel witnessed her devouring the yellow dandelions like a starved beast in the courtyard for the first time, he instinctively slapped the flowers out of her hands and proceeded to smack her back to make her spit out the dandelions that were in her mouth. He refuses to let her eat anything dirty on his watch; if she wants to eat those dandelions, she should at least wash them first before consuming them!

Like Vil, Epel initially thought that she’s related to Malleus because of her horns. He bluntly asked her if she’s a member of the infamous Draconia family, and she had to explain to him that the idea of her being Malleus’ relative is impossible because she’s not from the Valley of Thorns. She also revealed to Epel that she’s not a fae, but a half-human with the blood of an illuminated beast flowing within her veins. He doesn’t understand what illuminated beasts are and simply assumed that they’re a species with a strong affinity for magic.

Her graceful and quiet nature ignited his desire to protect her from the “bad things”, even though he knows that she’s more than capable of protecting herself. Still, she’d let him play the role of her protector, right?

Taglist | @flowwerpot @bouquetofrosehearts @daily-diasomnia @promisedvictories @blossomized-loveshow @cherryusei @glamorousruins @melkxsh @milk-bulb​ @lovelettersforganyu

Ganyu ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

She is so beautiful 🩵

I know these are simple backgrounds, but its late and im a bit lazy to take out my laptop.

Besides sometimes simple is better 😌

(P.S. I do plan on makeing a different one of these two later 🤫)

afternoon kiss

She is just a baby

--

Posted on my IG,might as well posted here

Help!!!!

Zhongli just said that an old friend has two fully grown daughters in the lantern rite event! I was so worried that hoyo was going to act as if they weren't family and only had a master disciple relationship!

Ganyu rentry graphic

F2U w/ creds

liyuen women

cherish

Color Palette Series day 14: Ganyu (Genshin Impact)

Ganyu 💙

Ganyuu ❄

Here's another genshin impact dream that I wrote down that I also woke up laughing at.

I had a dream where Keqing asked Ganyu out in a very wholesome way and it sounded just like them too and it was in a very wholesome chibi artwork kinda style and then next thing you know Arin from game grumps starts trying on Yelan’s clothes in Diluc’s tavern and Ganyu is shooting him from the banister with thousands of arrows at very fast speeds and it’s still in that wholesome art work style too and I woke up after he was getting shot at rapid speeds.

I wrote down a lot of genshin impact dreams I had on my iPad so I'm going to copy and paste one that made me wake up laughing really hard, also I guess my humors broken because for some reason humor in dreams are so much funnier.

I was in a car with dad driving down a dirt path surrounded by trees, but in front of us was ganyu driving what looked to be a square wooden raft made of logs and it had wheels, she was sitting directly in the middle and driving it but what was funny is that there where jingle bells attached to the tips of her horns and so all I could hear was jingling until the bells randomly flew off her horns and straight into our wind shield, which I think left a big crack in the glass, and then I woke up.

some horny genshin outfits hehe

original outfits below the cut!

Keqing X Ganyu ~ genshin impact 💜💙

i got her

my teeth in your heart → xiao

00. An Amputated Soul

DESCRIPTION: in liyue, wuwang hill is spoken of as the place where the dead dwell, and there’s a fable that’s oft–repeated among the youth of qingce village. xiao knows this tale, he witnessed it firsthand, and it is as familiar to him as the wind that he coils between his fingers. he does not speak of it much, for who is he to tell it to? all he knows is that the memory is prevalent as the disembodied whispers of karmic debt that call his name.

DISCLAIMER: gender neutral reader. brief mentions of nudity and death. multi-chapter fic.

WORD COUNT: 3k.

It’s a strange sensation.

There’s no pain, just an all-consuming numbness that spreads throughout your entire body. Your fingers flex, although you’re barely able to make sense of their movements. You can only recognize the metronome of your heartbeat as you float wistfully, the blood in your veins roaring so loud that all other sounds fall deaf to your ears. This serenity, a moment free from shouldering the hardships of the world, seems all too foreign for you, although you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

Here, you drift in the endless cosmos, wet and thick. You’re untethered, a lone particle with no sense of gravity in the middle of space. Reality seems discombobulated, and life consists of fractured memories that you’re unable to put together, as if you are missing the puzzle pieces necessary to do so. There’s a heavy pounding in your temples, and the tresses of your hair float around your head like wisps of smoke caught in the moonlight.

It’s when you open your eyes that you realize you can’t breathe. You suddenly become aware that you’re submerged underwater, and the previous tranquility is replaced by a fervent hysteria. Curled up in a fetal position, your bones knock together at the joints, trying for a foothold over the slick crossings of the river floor. Withal, your limbs are constricted by the water reeds, rendering you practically immobile, and your feet sink into the slick, black earthsoup. The surface seems far away from your stricken fingers as you desperately flail them in an attempt to stay afloat.

You can feel your heart pulse sporadically in your teeth, and your spine convulses as you choke on the air that you can’t breathe. In a brief moment of clarity, you retract your arms, beginning to uproot the reeds that confine your body to the riverbed. Determination numbs the burning sensation that coruscates throughout your chest, snuffing out the white-hot sensation that begins to gnaw at your lungs. This newfound electricity swallows you whole, surging through your veins like an incinerator that’s sweltering hot and nuclear-powered. Mud billows up in waves from the floor.

You can taste the acrid tang of death as you bite down on your tongue, and you know it’s coming when your periphery turns white. An abrupt coolness rushes in, igniting a formication along your skin. In mere moments, you realize, you will float like the water reeds, nothing more than flesh and bones ready to decay in the currents. It’s unnerving to realize, it’s unnerving to even think about, and you want to push against the exhaustion that barrels onto your body; to strain for the moonlight that dims above. But your limbs grow heavy, your fingers turn bloated and blue, and your head is spinning, spinning, spinning…

A rough hand clamps down on your shoulders and you’re jerked out of the water before the darkness completely takes over your vision.

You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. Your chest heaves violently, sucking in desperate lungfuls of air that you had previously been so cruelly deprived of. The disturbed water sloshes around as you’re pulled onto the surface of a raft, and you collapse to your knees. Spindly fingers anchor themselves against the dried bamboo stakes, unable to let go until you’re steady once again. Your breath releases in sharp heaves, but it’s there, and that’s all that matters.

When the chill finally seeps into your skin, you see everything in pieces: the shadow of a silhouette in the fading moonlight, dark eyes fraught with concern, and frantic hands thrusting a sheet around your trembling body. Panting hard, you find a certain sense of relief when you cut your eyes to the person who stands by your shivering form. The landscape is blurry before you, and a restless energy hums beneath your skin.

“Are you alright?” the man asks you.

You don’t answer him at first. Instead, you swivel your head around as you take in your surroundings. You’re encircled by calm waters, serene despite their previous menace. Ripples lull the boat, and you follow their path to a shore that doesn’t lie too far from where you are now. You can barely make out the bamboo stalks that extend towards the night sky, framed by the gray cliffs that confine the surrounding land within an alcove of shadows.

“Where are we?” you ask him.

“This is Bishui River.”

The name rings with an unknown sense of familiarity, and you repeat it under your breath.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the man crouches down beside you, “but, what happened to you?”

You wish you could answer him, and when you look down, you notice your hands are shaking. From the frustration of being unable to recall anything or your apparent weakness, you don’t know. It’s like there’s a roadblock in your mind, a screen that reaches from ground to sky that disconnects you from the world around you. Faint sounds plug your ears, memories float across your eyes, and you’re unaware of what you have forgotten. Your past is something hidden, but in this moment you cannot fathom what it might be.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. You ball your hands into fists, knuckles blanching and fingernails digging deep into your palms as you turn to glower at the waters below. A sharp pain lances through your skin, but you don’t release them. All you can do is tell him your name.

“I see,” he hums, and you look towards him, whose cloak reveals a subtle beard of black hair and callous hands - working hands. There are wicker baskets that lie adjacent to his feet, filled with scavenged fish and herbs, carrots and sunsettias. “I stopped using my real name a long time ago. You can just call me Jiangxue.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t lose focus. Your nature is to piece this puzzle together: a fisherman out in the dead of night, an unknown land that is strangely familiar, and you, a person composed of seafoam who was pulled to the surface with nothing but a name. You admit that that’s what bewilders you most, but you suck in a breath and push the thought away.

“There’s a village near here. I can take you there if you’d like,” Jiangxue speaks when your silence persists. His eyes glance towards your figure before quickly looking away. A cough catches somewhere between his lungs and his throat. “It consists of amiable folk. You should be able to persuade them into getting you some clothing.”

You look down at his words, and your throat drops to your stomach when you find your bare skin on display. A hypodermic heat rushes to your face, and you wrap the thin sheet tighter around your naked body.

“I … uh … sorry,” you manage to sputter out, bowing your chin down to your chest as if the simple action alone could erase all traces of embarrassment. “I hadn’t realized.”

“It’s no matter,” he affirms, paddling towards the land.

It begins to rain once the raft reaches the shore, and an argentine fluorescence seeps from the sky. The drops plummet from the sky, rapid and ruthless. As you step onto the bank, you find that the mossy ground is damp and sodden, a deep green pigmentation that indicates the fallen rain as a usual occurrence. Jagged stones press uncomfortably into your heels, and you can feel the way the air stills around you.

You don’t understand why these plains seem so disorienting, why the soft susurration of the leaves feel so heavy in your ears. This stupor comes alongside that previous sense of familiarity - an ambient nostalgia for a native land that you yearn to experience once again. There’s an entwining reassurance, distant childhood memories, and the comforts of home. Perhaps one day you will find out why.

When you see the man step off of his raft in an attempt to follow you, you stop him with the shake of your head.

“I’m fine from here on out,” you say before you can even make sense of the words. “I know my way there.”

Skeptical of your proclamation, he raises an eyebrow.

“Dawn will be here soon, you should return to fishing before the world wakes up.”

“You misunderstand,” he says, walking towards you nonetheless. “I do not fish for a living. Neither the process nor the result means much of anything to me.”

“Oh,” you frown. “Is it just a way to pass time, then?”

“Precisely that.” And then he smiles, reaching out his hand and placing it on yours. When he retracts, you find a sunsettia placed into the cocoon of your palm, accompanied by a glowing ornament composed of Varunada Lazurite. There’s a delicate swirl–like design imprinted in the middle of the gem, and your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is: a Hydro Vision. It must have resurfaced alongside you.

You wish to thank him, but you can not find the voice to do so.

“Safe travels,” Jiangxue says. He turns away, only walking a few steps before he pauses entirely. He opens his mouth, and a look crosses his face then as if he doesn’t know what to say.

“Yes?” you ask of him. “What is it?”

He still doesn’t speak, and you watch as he unclips the cloak from around his waist, slipping it off his arms and rolling it within itself. He hands you the bundle of cloth.

“O-Oh,” you stutter, waving your hands in front of you. “I couldn’t possibly. You have given me far too much.”

“You are cold,” is all he says. “Take it.”

“Really, I don’t-”

“I implore you. Please take it.”

There’s something in his voice then, a plea that is all too unfitting for the composed man before you. Unable to fight against his wishes, you timidly reach forward and remove the article from his grasp.

“There should be no monsters to block your path,” Jiangxue says. “He has made sure of it.”

There is nothing to stop the bewilderment that illustrates your face.

“He?” you question, but the fisherman’s back is turned to you. Befuddled, you do not say anything more, and the quietude encroaches in.

Somewhere in the near distance, a bird squalls — the only sound to penetrate the silence. Jiangxue moves back onto his raft, situating a paddle between the calloused texture of his hands. You don’t wait to watch him leave, instead bowing your head in a display of gratitude before pivoting on your heel and weaving through the clotted bamboo.

When you are certain that you are adequately hidden, the soaked-through sheet that had previously found home on your shoulders falls to the floor. You cinch the cloak that Jiangxue gifted you around your body, and the linen cocoons your body heat comfortably. Pocketing your Vision and the sunsettia, you pluck the sheet from off the ground, and begin to walk forward once more.

It’s not a long trek, that much you can recall, but when you reach the edge of the village, you find that the world has flung itself over and a new sun breaks the horizon. It’s a nectarine-sweet sky, mingling above the mountain that cradles the abundant crop lands within its embrace. You cross the bridge over the terraced fields of crops and wildflowers, inching closer to the livening village. It remains peaceful and quiet all the same, even as its occupants begin to stir.

This isn’t a place that receives many guests, that much you can affirm, despite the boundless beauty the land withholds. The rising sun embraces your skin, silky and warm, and even the rough texture of the stairs beneath your feet seems to hold a fount of comfort within themselves. You can hear the hummingbirds philandering with the flowers, their birdsong coming in lulls and bursts. The aromatic hints of Jueyun Chili and Violetgrass invade upon the atmosphere, inspiring a warmth to pool within your stomach.

It’s when you near the top of the stone path that you can make sense of a hunched figure beneath the strung lanterns, still lit despite the day’s arrival. She paces from side to side, graceful in her steps regardless of the aged lines that sculpt her face, on display due to her gray hair tucked in a low bun. As if sensing your presence, she stops, the green of her dress swiveling with her movements as she pivots on her heel to face you.

“My dear,” she calls, as if she has known you all this time. “Welcome to Qingce Village. Why don’t you take a walk with me?”

The elderly lady nods her head towards the courtyard, and there you can see a conglomeration of buildings that frame the square, constructed of wood and bamboo stalks. Fruit stands are tucked into corners, and a little ways down, a water mill sits adjacent to a bridge, converging with the path that leads further up the mountain. From nearby, the sound of a waterfall marginally emerges above the noises of early morning, and a rush of wistfulness overwhelms your entire being.

“Have you been aware that I would come?” you ask as you step beside her. She leads you towards the bridge.

A small smile sets apart her lips. “You must know we have quite the accumulation of spies here.”

A look of confoundment overtakes your features, and before you can request her to explain any further, a muffled chorus of giggles is heard from behind you. When you turn around, three pairs of eyes stare curiously at your form, and petite hands latch onto the edges of the cart that the children hide behind.

“I was not aware that I’d been under surveillance.”

“Outsiders are rather rare here,” the elderly woman muses, turning her head to where you gaze. “Of course, they still have a lot to learn.”

A sense of amusement flutters within your chest.

“Might I inquire as to why you have come?” she asks you.

The question momentarily startles you, although you reason that it is not unexpected. Attempting to grasp at your thoughts, you press your teeth down onto your lip, and all answers that are brought to mind prove insufficient to her question.

She must notice your inner turmoil, because she provides a reassuring expression before speaking: “It is fine if you do not wish to indulge me. We all have things we wish to keep to ourselves.”

“It’s not that. It’s just … how do I put this?” you reply, taking a grounding breath before voicing further. “There are many memories before this morning that have escaped me, including the answer to your inquiry. Although, I do suppose I hoped that I might be able to acquire some assistance here.”

She seems to contemplate your words, and stops walking just before your feet make contact with the bridge. A middle-aged woman appears in your periphery then, raising her hand in greeting to the lady beside you, the other arm slung over a wicker basket that rests on her hip. She must be preparing for a day's worth of field work, you presume.

“I see. Let us go somewhere more private. We will converse there,” she says. “And perhaps we might find you some more suitable clothes.”

She leads you to a building that rests on a wedge below the peak of the mountain. It’s certainly the largest structure of the village, composed of wooden posts and joists to encircle the open space. A shallow pond borders the front entrance, lotus heads and lily pads peaking above its glassy surface. The inside is completely exposed to the external environment, and from here, you can make out the entirety of the village. Nonetheless, being under a roof grants you a gratifying sense of privacy.

With a fragile hand on the small of your back, the lady leads you to a painted screen wall that rests off–center of the building, framed by wooden beams. It’s a picture of the mountain, you promptly recognize, with streaks of orange and blue that appear to glow in the morning light. She gently encourages you behind it, and you don’t realize that there is a set of garments in her other hand before she’s pushing them into your own.

“There is no one around to see,” she says, as if sensing your hesitation, and leaves you to your own.

Once the woman rounds the corner, you make haste in removing the cloak, slipping on the pants that tighten at your waist. The silk laced fabric flares out to brush at your ankles, and the cerulean trimmed edges barely graze upon the ground. The main portion is a dark umber, much like the short sleeved shirt given to you, with stitched decals of ochre and blue. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to bind the fastenings down your chest.

There is no mirror nearby, but you are gently pleased by the choice in fabrics. You run your fingers over the material, feeling the ridges, the needlework, and the cotton–like texture. You know you’re in no position to experience such a luxury at the given moment, but you also have no entitlement to brush off such a thing. Your body hums with gratitude, and you step out from behind the wall.

The elderly lady seems to be equally as pleased, as she sends you a tight–lipped smile. From where her hands are clasped behind your back, she motions towards the chairs that circle the center of the building, fringing on the carmine painted engraving of a flower–like design. You take a seat.

“Might I ask your name?” You are the first to speak.

“You may call me Granny Ruoxin,” she muses. “I do apologize if it isn’t too lively around here, but life is pleasant here, and I hope you find a sense of enjoyment within the village.”

You learn forward, eager. “You mean it? I can stay?”

She nods, and it’s like the Universe has bursted into light. “There is plenty of room. You may stay until you are certain of where your journey will take you.”

A glint from the sun sparks your gaze, and you watch as Granny Ruoxin moves to sit beside you. Her movements are leisurely, hands crossed–hatched with scars reaching down to clasp yours in her own, and you dare to wonder of all the ways in which your life is about to unfold.

hello! i hope you enjoyed this. it’s my first time posting something genshin related on tumblr, so feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

additionally, i am considering making a tag list for this story, so if you are interested please message me!!

also! you can read it here on a03!

hihihi ganyu!

I got Ganyu the first day of the banner but only got around to doing the fanart now, I love her design🥥🐐

Sunlight