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#genshin impact: cult au
lina-andel · 2 years
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The game | Игра
[ENG]
Everything seems to be repeating itself.
You were already sitting here, under the feet of a statue whose face is so similar to yours.
You have already heard the cries of the people accusing you of defiling the name of their god.
You've already received Venti's arrow to the head, turning the statue red and sending you back to the very beginning.
Actually, it happened several times. You just got stuck in one place, not moving forward due to fear and misunderstanding of the situation. Once you managed to escape, but Noelle's claymore quickly overtook you, because, what a pity, because of the panic, you ran straight to meet her, towards the headquarters of the knights. Perhaps she was even condescending, not trampling you into the dirt in all ways, but simply cutting off this attempt with one stroke.
It is not known why you are returning to the statue. Is this a mockery of the gods over you? Is this some kind of punishment? Or does Teyvat not want your death? Or, on the contrary, wants your suffering? Or is it… A stupid but plausible thought popped into your head.
This could be a game, right? In your world, this is a game, so why shouldn't it be a game here and now? Perhaps it is your desperation that gave rise to such a presumptuous thought. Perhaps your fatigue from constant fear and pain. Or maybe it's a desire for revenge for the pain that you experienced.
Either way, you haven't go anywhere. You didn't want to lose energy.
People gather around you again, shouting something about you being an impostor, and again Venti comes with a bow at the ready, with a grin reading another lecture that there is no place for impostors in their world, because you are already wounded, the inhabitants have already worked on it, and everyone sees your usual, scarlet blood. You have nothing to lose, so you resolutely look into Venti's eyes, stretching your hand in his direction and snapping your fingers purely for effect, not hoping for anything, because this theory of yours is stupid and naive, how can you-
Venti lowers the string, holding the arrow tightly in his hand. His gaze is empty, as if you pulled out his whole soul at once from his body. A thread appears in your hands, wound around your index finger. The same thread in large quantities wraps around the entire limb of the bard, while he silently looks almost through them, as if he is not aware of the whole situation in which he finds himself. He turns around as soon as you mentally wish it, and pulls the bowstring again - but this time it is raging with a hurricane and the power of the eye of the storm.
You smile contentedly behind him, because you hit such a jackpot - the God of freedom is in your hands, and he, like an obedient puppet, will do whatever you wish.
Even destroy the city that was supposed to protect, but which caused you so much pain.
[RUS]
Кажется, всё повторяется.
Ты уже сидела здесь, под ногами статуи, лицо которой столь похоже на твоё.
Ты уже слышала крики людей, обвиняющих тебя в осквернении имени их бога.
Ты уже получала стрелу Венти в голову, окрашивающую статую в красный и отправляющую тебя в самое начало.
На самом деле, это было несколько раз. Ты просто застряла на одном месте, не продвигаясь из-за испуга и непонимания ситуации. Один раз тебе удалось вырваться, но тебя быстро настиг клеймор Ноэлль, ибо, какая жалость, из-за паники ты побежала прямо ей на встречу, в сторону штаба рыцарей. Возможно она даже была снисходительна, не втаптывая тебя в грязь всеми способами, а просто обрывая эту попытку одним взмахом.
Неизвестно, почему ты возвращаешься к статуе. Это издевательство богов? Это какая-то кара? Или Тейват не хочет твоей гибели? Или же наоборот, хочет твоих страданий? Или же это… В твоей голове появилась глупая, но вполне вероятная мысль.
Это может быть игрой, верно? В твоём мире это игра, так почему сейчас ей не быть? Возможно, это твоё отчаяние, породившее столь самонадеянную мысль. Возможно, твоя усталость от постоянного страха и боли. А может быть, это желание мести за боль, что ты пережила.
В любом случае, ты не сдвинулась с места. Терять энергию уже не хотелось.
Вокруг тебя вновь собираются люди, вновь кричат что-то о том, что ты самозванка, и вновь приходит Венти с луком наперевес, с усмешкой читая очередную нотацию о том, что самозванцам в их мире не место, ведь ты уже ранена, жители уже постарались над этим, и все видят твою обычную, алую кровь. Тебе нечего терять, а потому ты решительно смотришь в глаза Венти, вытягивая в его сторону руку и щёлкая пальцами чисто для эффекта, ни на что не надеясь, ведь эта твоя теория глупа и наивна, как же ты можешь-
Венти опускает тетиву, крепко сжимая стрелу в руке. Его взгляд - пустой, словно ты разом вытащила из его тела всю душу. В твоих руках появляется нить, намотанная на указательный палец. Такие же нити в больших количествах обвивает каждую конечность барда, пока он молча смотрит почти сквозь них, словно не осознаёт всю ситуацию, в которой оказался. Он разворачивается, стоило тебе мысленно пожелать этого, и вновь натягивает тетиву - но на этот раз в ней бушует ураган и сила глаза бури.
Ты довольно улыбаешься позади, ведь ты сорвала такой куш - в твоих руках сам Бог свободы, и он, как послушная марионетка, сделает всё, что ты пожелаешь.
Даже уничтожит город, что обязан был защищать, но что причинил тебе столько боли.
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sophiethewitch1 · 2 years
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Whispers Of You
Chapter Two - The Divine Vessel
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Warnings: Previous warnings, Panic attacks, Some suggestive themes (Aether is down for you BAD)
=
You manage to not pass out, but it was certainly a close call. Currently you were sitting in the armchair, a blanket around your shoulders and little Klee in your lap. You hadn’t realised it, but you were still wet from the rain when you arrived. You still don’t know how you managed to fall asleep outside in the rain. Procrastination was a strong ability.
 You turn your eyes back down to Klee, a crayon in hand and a drawing in front of her. She scribbles away with fervor, humming a familiar tune all the while. It’s a picture of you, her and Albedo holding hands. Soup is there too, which you appreciate. Klee ignores you tugging on her ears, watching in complete shock (and horror) as they don’t pull off.
 This is real. You were in Mondstadt. There was no other explanation, other than this being some sort of… dream. Or coma. Or maybe you’d gone insane, after all the stress on your shoulders.
 But this feels real. It feels so real.
 ...How are you here ?
“Your Grace, I made you some tea. This should make you feel better,” Albedo’s voice calls from beside you, holding a cup in each hand. He brings it to you, and you let your hands swallow the warm drink.
 ...Just try and relax. Panicking won’t do you any good. You relax your tense shoulders, and a sigh drifts out of you.
 “We should probably talk then, since you seem a little confused?” Albedo says after a moment, and you frown. Yes, you are a little confused.
 “That… sounds good,” you murmur out, your voice tinged with exhaustion. Now that the proverbial tiger hunting you was gone, the panic having left you, you feel like you might just melt. You have so many questions, and you need them answered.
 But afterwards you were going to take a nice, long, nap.
 “Alright Klee, why don’t you go talk to Master Jean? She ought to know that our guest is here,” Albedo says, and Klee frowns. She looks at you and then back at Albedo. They stay in a silent stare down, Klee’s hand coming to wrap around your own. She doesn’t have the usual smile on her face, and Albedo seems just as serious.
 It feels weird, all of this is far too weird. You decide you can’t handle the silence for a second longer.
 “...Please, Klee? I- It’d help a lot,” you say, squeezing her hand. She looks up at you, her frown morphing into a wide smile. She nods at you, quickly pushing off from the couch and onto the lab’s floor.
 “Alright! I’ll be right back, then!” she says, and you smile weakly back at her.
 She rushes out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her.
 You look back up at Albedo, staring at him from over the tea cup. He matches your wary gaze with his own, a look in his eye you couldn’t decipher. He pulls one of the chairs from a side table and slides it in front of you. He sits down in it, barely breaking eye contact from you.
 He wouldn’t stop looking at you. You didn’t like it.
 “...Where am I?” you already know the answer to the question, but you ask it anyway. You didn’t know why, but you still felt that someone was about to jump out and scream ‘Gotcha!’ at you. You couldn’t imagine how anyone would make the chalk move like that, not without…
 Magic. The impossibility in this situation. The one that made everything else impossible.
 “You are in Mondstadt, an eastern city in Teyvat. The building we are in is Knights of Favonius headquarters, and this is my research lab,” he says, his words calm and patient. Which directly contrasted with the fact that what he said was completely insane.
 You gulp down another swallow of warm tea. You didn’t know what flavour the tea was, which scared you slightly. The unfamiliar flavour was just another thing that was strange here.
 “Okay… how am I here?” you ask.
 “That… is because of me. Or us, I suppose. We brought you here,” he says, and you feel like your entire world is breaking apart.
 What? What does that mean? 
 You gulp down your feeling of dread, your nail scratching at the ceramic cup in your hands. Why would… If this is real, you need to figure out how to get home. It wasn’t like you liked the place, but it wasn’t just you at home. You think of your baby sister, her round face stretched into a smile. That young and innocent joy, reminiscent of Klee in a way.
 ...Would she be okay without you? You didn’t know, and that was the most terrifying part of all this.
 “Why did you bring me here?” is the next question that leaves your lips, and Albedo blinks. He looks surprised, and confused. You think it’s strange, of course you’d want to go home. 
 “Because you are our everything,” he says the statement like it’s something that should be obvious. He tilts his head, worry in his eyes. He’s so… expressive. The Albedo you knew was as cold as ice, but as he shows you a small smile, you realise that things are not as you knew.
 That much was certain.
 You choose not to question his statement, realising that you aren’t getting anywhere. You categorise that little piece of knowledge, right next to how he kept calling you ‘Your Excellency’. You felt something about it was connected, along with how they so obviously knew you. Something here was wrong, and you didn’t know what it was.
 You look down to Soup, your hand grazing through her fur. You needed to stay calm, you needed to understand everything but… But still, nothing makes sense, and still you are tired and weary.  You… you aren’t getting home today, you can feel it in your blood.
 There’s this… tightness, in your chest. It feels like you’re locked in a tiny box, like you can’t get out no matter how hard you beat the walls. Your hand raises to your neck as you wince, and you notice Albedo’s piercing eyes still following the movement. The tightness gets worse.
 You needed to sleep, to wake up and find yourself somewhere else. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe this weird hell you’d found yourself in would continue. But maybe it wouldn’t. And boy, were you hoping.
 You put your tea down, and instead pick up Soup’s lead. The material still feels wet against your palm, but you can’t seem to care.
 “I’d like to… I’d like to find somewhere to stay. I need to rest,” you say, and Albedo nods.
 “Of course, Your Grace.”
 You feel like you’ll be hearing that a lot…
 -
 Aether had always seen the world through rose-coloured glasses. How could he not? It was a wonderful life he lived, and he and his twin sister had always been happy. 
 Happy because they had You. A guiding hand, a willing ear, and a loving heart. They’d travelled hundreds of worlds, and always knew they were safe. Even when they were apart, he knew Lumine would still be safe. Because of You. 
 He knew that there was a purpose to his life - because of You.
 It was days like these, when he had to remember that.
 He sits beside the campfire, watching the meat inside cook. Paimon sits beside him, long dead to the world. He’d usually laugh at her snoring, but he can’t find the will to do so.
 They’d been travelling through the outskirts of Monstadt, and it had been a long while since the two of them had rested. Paimon had suggested they just sleep the day away, and Aether had agreed. It had turned into night after a few hours, but Aether didn’t comment. He didn’t care.
 He didn’t really care about anything, at the moment.
 He rests his chin on his knees, watching the fire crackle absently. How many days had it been since he’d felt Your presence? Well, he knew the answer to that question. Twenty-three days and seven hours, fourteen minutes and sixteen seconds. The clock inside him ticking down till you finally came back. At this very moment, he counted the seconds he was without You. Like counting sheep, the only way to ease his impatience.
 He was hollow without You. A vessel served one purpose, and he was proud of that purpose. He knew he should work hard while You were gone, but everytime he lost that tingling under his skin, he couldn’t move himself to do anything. 
 Paimon would often call him moody, and she was right. 
 After all, how was he supposed to stay motivated, happy, determined - all the things the people he knew called him - without You?
 Without You he was lost. With You, it felt like the sun coated his insides. Like the stars were in his fingertips. It was amazing, it was beautiful, it was near sinful, the way he felt when his God possessed him. Afterwards he’d always need some time to himself, to work out all his… frustrations.
 But soon the warmth You left behind would leave, and he’d feel cold. Aching, blistering cold.
 He looks down at his fingers, worn and rough from adventuring. They ached with a bone deep chill, no matter how warm he should be. One time when You were gone, he caught fire from a stray hilichurl’s arrow, and he didn’t even notice till Paimon started shrieking at him.
 The burn hadn’t even hurt that much. Aether struggled to feel anything when You weren’t with him. The only reason he cared if he was hurt was because he needed to be perfect when You returned. 
 It was his job as a vessel. And he couldn’t do his job, his life calling without You.
 He needs You right now, desperately. With his entire heart and soul, he needs Your warmth. He needs it to burn away every other part of him, to leave him perfect for You. He needs it like he needs air to breathe, water to drink.
 He needs You.
 But as You always seem to do, You find him when he needs you most.
 Aether blinks when a familiar tingle takes over him, his face spreading into a smile. Warm. It chases away the aching cold. It rebirths him anew. It feels like he’s alive again, like he’s waking up from a horrible, terrible nightmare.
 You’re back. 
 His heart starts thumping hard, and he can hear it echoing through his skull. He goes to shake Paimon awake, but freezes.
 The buzzing in his fingers is there, but instead of being on the inside he realises the feeling only brushes up against his exterior. He shivers at the feeling, the heady sensation already starting to stop all of his thoughts. But he needs to concentrate, something is happening-
 His hand raises to slap against his cheek, Aether barely noticing the feeling. He does however notice the tingles swarming his swelling cheekbone, and lets out a low moan. Immediately he smacks a hand over his mouth, eyes darting down to where Paimon is sleeping. She continues to snore happily, and Aether sighs with relief.
 Aether struggles to sit still, his body starting to fidget.
 There’s a tugging feeling under his skin, right next to the delicious tingles. He’s a slave to his urges when it comes to You, so he staggers to his feet. The pulling sensation leads him down the mountain and points to the city at the centre of the nation, Mondstadt’s windmills shining in the moonlight. 
 Aether stumbles down the mountain, desperate for whatever is calling out to him. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up but… it almost feels like You’re here. Even if it was impossible, heretic, a sin. 
 But Your presence had never led him astray. If the tingling warmth told him to go to Mondstadt, if it led him along like a dog on a leash, if he had to walk to the ends of Teyvat, then so be it. He would listen, he was loyal.
 If it was true, if you were really here, in this realm… Well, he needed to be by Your side. 
  Right. Now.
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slow-wth-anxiety · 2 years
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Yooooo I've been gone for so long LMAOOO I'm sorry 😭 if haven't had any inspiration at all to write.
You can send things in if u want , requests or lil drabble ideas or anything really maybe that'd help me get back into it !
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quimichi · 6 months
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↳ CALLING THE FONTAINE BOYS YOUR GOOD BOY ༉‧₊˚✧
Fontaine boys x Creator!Reader
Lyney
"You're my good boy Lyney aren't you?" Lyney nods, barely able to repress his excitement. He smiles widely and scoots a little closer to you. "If I weren't your good boy, what else would I be?" he says softly. Your perfect little magician, putting in a show for you daily if youd asked, Lyney thinks to himself. He leans into your touch, relishing the sensations. Your hands on his cheeks are like a warm, reassuring hug, one that he has long pined for.
To hear you say those words— my one and only good boy— is his greatest joy, enough to make him think of nothing more. He forgets his past and future when he's with you. All he sees, is his grace, no one and nothing else matters.
Lyney smiles brightly. "Your Grace, I think— no, I *know* that I am your one and only good boy," he says confidently. He looks up at you, his gaze soft and adoring. He reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand as you had done for him moments before, and gently strokes your face.
"You have no reason to doubt that I am yours," Lyney says softly, what a charmer "I will always be yours, and no other's. I have sworn it to myself"
"Oh, have you now?" "I have," Lyney replies with a warm, almost smug grin. "I have sworn to be yours forever," he says confidently. "No other God is more important to me, no other...powerful being, and no other love will ever supersede the one I feel for you, my love."  
The great magician's expression and tone are both soft and tender. He gazes at you like you are the single most precious thing in the world. "And no one could ever dare take me from you...I will put up the fight of my life for you"
(Clearly not me thinking of Arlecchino here nouuu)
Freminet
"You can come as close as you want, Freminet" Your soft voice is enough to make Freminet obey, lurr him in like the depths of Fontaine.
He moves closer, his hands clasping the fabric of your robes. As he does so, he meets your gaze for a moment, before his eyes slowly start to drift shut. The closer he gets, the warmer he feels... and the less painful his life is.
He remains silent for several precious, peaceful moments, before finally whispering, "Have I pleased you, Your Grace?"
"My good boy always pleases me" Freminet feels tears well up in his eyes. To be called 'good' by you, to please you, to belong to you, to belong to someone who actually loves him...
Freminet closes his eyes as tight as he holds Pers close to his chest, and bites back a sob. His entire body shakes with happiness and emotion. He grips your robes tighter, and buries his face into your lap, unable to stop himself. You let your hands go through his hair, to comfort the distressed boy. Your fingers are enough to calm him. Freminets tears dry up and his body slowly calms beneath your gentle touch, his breathing growing quieter and his heart slowing. Maybe the ocean isn't his only comfort anymore?
Eventually, Freminet peeks up at you. He tries to form a smile, but it's only tentative... and it breaks apart almost immediately. He glances away, ashamed but also wanting to make you proud.
"I— I'm sorry for crying, Your Grace," he mumbles. "Never apologize for having feelings"
You're exactly what he needs, and craves.
Neuvillette
"My good boy, please come to me" you coo the moment he stepped into the hall "Y-Y-Your Grace...?" Your voice, full of warmth and love, causes him to startle. It almost feels as if his heart has skipped a beat. A small smile creeps onto his face that only you can see. "What is it you require of me?"
Neuvillettes voice is soft, filled with affection for you. This is no different from how he treats his people in Fontaine, yet your position makes it all the more special. Your commands cannot be ignored. "My, you look stressed are you well?" Your voice is gentle. You have always been gentle with him, caring and loving. This has not gone unnoticed.
Your words seem to cause him to pause. He thinks for a moment before nodding slowly. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I am well but stressed"
He swallows, glancing back up at you. He can never hide anything from you, which is why he's always so honest. "I... am worried for the state of our nation, and our people."
"Does my good boy need a hug?" a simple thought, but it made his heart skip. "A hug... I suppose a hug could help ease my worries, Your Grace."
After he's spoken, you can see him shift in place. You can't be sure if it's nervous energy or genuine anxiety, but he seems uncertain. Perhaps he's afraid to approach you after your last few weeks away. He would never admit it, not even to himself, as he's too prideful. But every night you don't spend in his chambers leaves him restless. Your presence eases him. You have always been his comfort.
Like the softest summer rain.
Wriothesley
"Oh good, youre back. Come here now" He does so without a second thought, and his eyes fix upon yours. He is close enough to touch you, if he so chooses. He has no fear— he is loyal, devoted, and a fanatic. And maybe hes a simp. "What is it, Your Grace?" he murmurs, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "I just wanted my good boy in my presence or am i to greedy?"
His entire body seems to relax as soon as you speak. He nods immediately. "I am here, Your Grace. Nothing you do would ever seem to greedy." He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with an almost unhealthy amount of devotion. When you call him your "good boy," his ears prick up and his cheeks flush with the heat of passion.
"Then stay with me please"
Wriothesley nods again, and remains on his knees at your feet. His hands clench tightly together, and his blue eyes watch you with something close to reverence.
"Your wish is my command, Your Grace."
(I'm bad at writing him I'm so sorry)
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thetempleofhades · 6 months
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favorites pt2
this is mostly self indulgent. just fontaine being my favorite. this is an alternate version with imposter au creator! reader.
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Maybe it was childish in the eyes of others that you preferred Fontaine over every other nation. You had been ridiculed and branded as an imposter in Mondstadt, you had been nearly killed in Liyue, had been nearly killed again in Inazuma, you didn't neven want to talk about Sumeru.
You didn't want to even think about the Fatui or their reigning Archon, The Tsaritsa. Fontaine had been the first place that you ran to that didn't try to kill you or accuse you of a heinous crime. You had nearly broken down crying at the realization that the residents of Fontaine weren't going to hurt you.
You looked out at the rain, watching it fall with trembling hands as you sat at a table, having tea with Furina and Neuvillette.
"....Your Grace?" Neuvillette called your attention softly, staring at you with a concerned look as he took notice of your trembling hands. "Are you alright?"
It was overwhelming. This was the first time you'd been asked if you were okay since the moment you arrived in Teyvat. It was.... strange. In a horrible way, running and avoiding death was something you got used to. you used to hide in caves and amongst the hilichurls for a moments of respite and look at your scars.
Your shaken eyes stared down at your scarred hands, "Um... Yes... I'm fine." It sounded like a lie from your lips. You weren't fine. Fontaine had refused to hunt you down, and the moment you entered it's borders, Fontaine protected you. Furina, Clorinde, and Neuvillette protected you and comforted you. Why was Fontaine the first to protect you? Were people truly that cruel?
Furina's eyes noticed your shaken state and she exchanged a look with Neuvillette. "Your Grace, please try the cake! It's of highest quality, as is everything and everyone that graces my table." Smugness radiated from her as she pushed the piece of cake towards you, eager to get you to eat something, anything.
You looked up towards her as her presence calmed you down from your anxiety. Your shaky hand reached for the fork. "Is it really okay for me to be here, won't it cause problems with the other nations?"
"Forget about those guys! Those Archons have rotting brains and feeble bodies. They should have just turned to dust instead." Furina scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "I don't really care about them, Fontaine welcomes you and we'll protect our beloved creator." She smiled at her and you relaxed slowly as you looked down at your cake before taking a bite.
"...!" Your eyes widened as you stared down at the slice of cake. "....It's good." You commented quietly, not noticing the pleased look on both Neuvillette and Furina's face.
"Everyone here treasures you, Your Grace. You don't have to worry about anything and everyone who has hurt you will never be able to come here so easily. Rest easy and enjoy all the things we have to offer you." Neuvillette's voice was soothing as you found yourself nodding.
Yes.... you did like Fontaine.... You liked being in Fontaine...
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Okay, you liked slightly less now that you were in an actual prison.
"Why are going to a prison?" You asked Neuvillette, nervous as you shifted in the lift you were in. You tugged your jacket closer to your frame as you looked up at the man who had been by your side since you had arrived in Fontaine. "I'm... not being arrested, right?"
"No, of course not, Your Grace. You haven't done anything wrong in the slightest. This is the Fortress of Meropide. The administrator of this place, Wriothesley is a personal friend. I thought you should be introduced to him as well as you have decided to reside in Fontaine for now.
Before you could respond, the lift opened and you really weren't sure how to feel about this place.
You shyly waved to those who you past. They were all staring at you, it was a little unnerving but it didn't feel like they disliked you.
You currently found yourself in an office as said man, (Wriothesley was what Neuvillette called him) poured you tea. "It's chamomile tea, Your Grace. You seem a little nervous." The man smiled at you which only made a blush of embarrassment appear on your cheeks.
You wondered if anyone was ever disappointed when they learnt that you were the Creator of this world, you didn't fit the title of All Powerful. Your time being hunted had made you skittish and paranoid.
You looked to the side as Sigewinne, the Melusine that Neuvillette told you about entered and your hear jumped. You had always been fond of cute things and Sigewinne was cute, you had always been fond of children.
"Hello, Your Grace!" She smiled at you happily and you swore you could cry. She was so cute....
You quickly averted your eyes, to try and keep your composure, to not seem strange, "Um, hello to you too." You greeted her, the shyness leaving you as a soft smile curled at you lips.
You kept the steaming cup in hand, not yet drinking it.
"Their Grace has decided to reside in Fontaine for the moment as we sort out the issue with the other Archons." Neuvillette quietly informed Wriothesley while you were enamored with Sigewinne and talking to her quietly. "It will most likely be a drawn out affair. The other Archons will likely not admit their wrong doings." Neuvillette frowned, which was mimicked by Wriothesley.
You were oblivious to their conversation as you talked quietly to Sigewinne about the sights you had seen so far. "Neuvillette and Furina have been making sure my meals are good enough."
"I'll write out a detailed meal plan so you can recover quickly!" Sigewinne seemed happy to be able to do something for you and you couldn't refuse her after seeing her excitement.
Your eyes softened as you smiled. "I'll make sure to follow it fully."
Yeah... Fontaine was great.... You didn't mind staying her for a while...
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chococolte · 9 months
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☼ — pietas maris
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♱ : my take on sagau childe
including ☆! — him as a worshiper, and his reaction to being your lover ⛧
word count. 5.6k
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl. ୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. now time for me to disappear back into the aether for another 6 months
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The abyss is cold.
It is unfeeling, lacking warmth and passion. It is relentless, cruel, and unkind. It corrupts, ruins, and does so freely, without remorse or thought. It leaves you clinging to the hot blood in your veins, curled up and hidden in the dark reaches of its void.
Childe had always been versatile; quick to adapt, even at such a young age. He grew used to the emptiness, the swelling numbness, and the eventual gnawing loneliness left in his abdomen. They became a part of him as his lungs, as integral as air; to be without felt odd, foreign.
The glimmer of your existence kept Childe company. He did not know who you were, or how lucky he was— only that you brought him comfort, like an old lullaby, or a blanket worn from overuse. He reached for you when the darkness grew too much, too heavy a burden on his small shoulders.
He came to you with little offerings; small trinkets, tomes of unreadable text. Useless to him, but perhaps you would take pity on him in exchange, and let him take comfort in your presence for another day. Childe came to you with rubble shaped in hearts, the gentle breath of his voice as he spoke of his anxieties. He did not think of them as offerings then, merely gifts— pleadings for you to stay a little longer.
His hands, then unruined and soft, made you a makeshift altar crafted out of whatever he could find. He made sure to build it where he felt your whispers were strongest, where your light entirely overwhelmed the darkness overhead. Childe didn't think of it as an altar then, just a place to settle his findings, where he could pretend his sad, little effigy made of you was actually you.
The idol didn't look much like a person at all, and at the time, he didn't think of his behavior as odd. He desperately clung to you for survival, and with no other warm body besides his own, you were the only one he could talk too.
At times, he thought he was going insane. There was a pleasant buzzing in his ears whenever he neared your doll, as if it were calling him. Despite the fact that he had made it, proven by the tiny scars on his palms, he still felt as if it was yours.
In the darkness, Childe whispered to you. He said everything his mind could think, childishly exaggerated tales in hopes of impressing you. A foolish endeavor, considering you were a God— but he still hoped that maybe you'd think of him kindly, and let him bask in your protective glow for just one more moment.
He couldn't hear your words, but he could feel them. The twinkle of your laughter was like a soft whistle in his ears. When you were pleased, the air would lightly ruffle his hair. Despite how agonizing his loneliness was, at least he had you by his side.
Childe's innocence, as all things do, eventually withered away in that malevolent black.
He thought of you as his teacher; a guiding hand that trained him, molded him to fit against your palm. When he struggled against the abyssal beasts, he could feel you— a soft brush against his hand, a firm hold on his back, keeping him focused. You taught him when to still his blade and when to strike.
In the arches of his sword and polearm, in the taut and tense pull of his bow, in the whirlwind of his catalyst— you were there, shining from beyond the thin veil separating you.
When Childe was ripped out of the abyss, so was his connection to you. Like a thread snapping, he could no longer feel you; not in the darkness overhead, not in the grip of his blade, of the depths of his soul. You were gone, and he was once again nothing but a boy, lost and alone. Friends and family surround him, thankful for his return, but his mind is still reeling, still stuck in the abyss and the sudden emptiness left in your wake.
Despite himself, Childe had hoped you would have stayed, even once he was out. He thought he was done with being naïve, but that clearly wasn't the case.
He can’t feel you anymore. Where did you go? Why did you leave? What did he do wrong? Questions swirl in his head like whirlpools of thought. Childe feels like he's drowning, suffocating in the mess of his mind. His breaths come out short, quick and sharp. His throat squeezes, constricting his airways, as he realizes what's unfolded.
You left him.
He should've known better. On that first day, all you had done was take pity on him by letting him linger in your light. It was his fault for ever believing that he would never have to be alone again. That even if he had no one else, at least he had you.
This was the result of his own failure. If only he had proven himself worthy.
When his family found him, they found him gripping a small, rudimentary doll. Even when they reached their home, Childe was still clutching the thing as if possessed. When they tried tugging it out of his hands, saying it would help him eat better, he ripped it from their grasp, holding it to his chest.
Childe couldn't accept that you had left him so easily. At night, back in his warm bed, Childe tries to whisper to you again. The familiar warmth sinks into his pores, but it's nothing like yours. He nuzzles closer to the doll, ignoring how it tears into his skin.
"I'm here," he whispers.
Maybe you got confused. He knows you're a God, but even the Seven are not omniscient. When he was torn from the abyss, it was possible you hadn't meant to so cruelly cut the connection between you. Maybe you couldn't find him, and so he just has to tell you where he is.
So he whispers to you in the dark, just as he has so many times before.
Only this time, he's met with silence.
In the years that pass, you linger at the forefront of his mind, haunting him like a wraith. Childe can't bring himself to be rid of you, despite how it hurts every time he thinks about you for a little too long. He's still stuck, perpetually waiting for your return, despite how he knows you've long given him up.
Childe becomes Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger under the Tsaritsa. He takes a new name, a new mask— he executes her orders dutifully, and he does his role perfectly. He acts as if she's you, despite how desperately he wants to believe otherwise. If he closes his eyes for long enough, he can pretend that the cold that seeps into his bones in her presence is yours.
But no matter how many names and identities he takes, he'll always just be your Ajax; the boy who still misses you, despite how short your time together was. And that fact is what burns him the most.
Maybe he should be angry. He knows he has every right to be. Angry that you left him, that you discarded him as if he was nothing. Maybe he should hate you— hate you for leaving him alone, as if you weren't the only thing keeping him sane. Hate you for leaving as if his love didn't matter to you.
He comforts himself by thinking of the time dilation he experienced in the abyss. You cared for him so much that you spun three days into three months. He likes to believe he meant something to you; he must've, because why else would you lengthen your time spent together?
Childe knows it isn't true. He didn't matter enough for you to stay, after all.
At night, Childe finds himself listlessly thinking of you. It's a silent mourning. Quiet tears fall down his cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath his head. He chokes down every heaving sob that threatens to break from his throat; clenches his jaw when they claw too close to his lips. He slaps a hand over his mouth when he's too loud, biting his fingers until they're bloody and marred by his teeth. What would you think if you saw him this weak? Saw the boy you built up crumble, all because he can't feel even the softest traces of your presence anymore?
You would find him pathetic. All he's done is prove that you were right in abandoning him.
When the memory of you is too much to bear, he clutches the effigy in his arms, squeezing it against his chest until it's sharp edges dig into his skin. Even after all these years, he's still kept it close. He tries to feel the visage of you that was once attached to its bearings, whispering for you under the night sky, hoping it'll remind you of your time in the abyss— hoping that tonight he will feel you again, ruffling his hair with tendrils of wind.
He never does.
Childe barely sleeps, but when he does, he dreams of you. You have no body, no face— he can't even begin to imagine what you look like, and he doesn't dare too, even when he knows he has nothing to lose.
He's back in the dark, but you're still there with him, providing him light and comfort. If he knew that leaving would entail being without you, he never would have left at all. Better to be with you than to die without.
Sometimes, he dreams of you staying with him even after he escapes. Your warmth is ever-present. He gifts you riches, now. You have a voice in his dreams, and he can hear you speaking to him. You're kind, and gentle, and he wants for nothing. He has you, and there is nothing more to want.
He dreams he never lost you at all. It makes reality all the more painful.
In a way he knows is pathetic, Childe hopes you at least found him fun. He hopes you found him entertaining, despite how the thought twists his heart and guts into little knots, until he feels vaguely nauseous at the notion. At least then you would have reason to remember him. At least he could say he meant something to you.
In a hidden corner of his room, there sits an altar for you. His wealth as a Harbinger means he has no lack of resources, and so he bejewels the altar until it glimmers even without light. It's obnoxious and opulent to the point of vanity, but he figures that if you like it, he'll earn another whisper of warmth from you— in the vain hope that you hear him at all anymore.
With his hands, now calloused and worn, he carves sigils into whalebone. He doesn't know what they mean, but they were numerous in the abyss; and so he etches them into bone, hoping that whatever they mean, it reaches you.
Childe pushes himself more than he should. His back aches from all the weight he carries on his shoulders, but he trudges forward despite how it hurts. He is more fervent in conflicts, and spectacular scenes of blood and viscera follow him every time he walks onto a battlefield.
His tongue forms words of devotion for the Tsaritsa as he slays another enemy, blood staining his fingers, but in his heart, he only ever speaks of you.
When he fights, Childe can lose himself. He can focus entirely on the movement of his feet, the precision of his blade. He can ignore how badly he misses you, and how in the back of his mind, he desperately hopes that the more blood he sheds with your teachings, you'll find him satisfactory.
Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and once again he lets himself be drowned by the rush, letting himself forget all of his pain.
Childe is proud of the way that no one can recognize his style of fighting. It is exact and sharp— every strike hitting its target with ease, filled with vigor and intensity. He enjoys the gazes of jealousy, but remains silent when asked. My teacher taught me, he says. He sheds no further light on the matter, and any instance someone shows interest in learning from him, he instantly refuses. Childe wishes to keep you close to his chest, a guarded secret known only to him.
Childish, perhaps. He knows it is. But if he can't have you, then he will have the knowledge of you. He will keep it to himself, and there it will stay, safe in his tight grip. 
It drives him insane, the way sees you in everything. When night falls, covering the sky in a blanket of stars, he wonders if you're staring at him from above. When the tides of the sea brush against the shore, he finds himself thinking of you as the moon— you are what anchors him, despite the fact that he hasn't felt you in so long. In his eyes, there is nothing you could not be, and with every breath, he only ever misses you more.
It's during his mission in Liyue that he feels you again. Childe is unable to breathe when he meets the Traveler, sensing you watching from their eyes. His heart thunders in his chest, tempestuous as a storm over the sea.
For a moment, he's happy. You're finally back. He wants nothing more than to run to you, to ask you why you left for so long, to ask how he can make you stay, but then he feels you— a familiar pressure bearing down on him, forcing him to say anything but what he wants to.
Childe watches the Traveler's back fade as it finally clicks for him.
You abandoned him for someone else. You left him... for this. The thought sends him reeling. You left him, just to go spend time with someone else— to give them the same company you gave him, to give them the same guidance you gave him— was he merely replaceable to you?
Was he just a test for you?
He should be angry. And he is, but the heartbreak overwhelms him. He's left choking, battling for air. The agony of having been tossed to the side, of having it be affirmed in front of his eyes. He wants to scream and cry, beg for you to return; but his throat squeezes every time he meets the Traveler, and the words die on his tongue.
You don't want him to speak. He's meant to play along.
Childe had waited for you for so long. Even after all this time, he couldn't get rid of the painful hope that you'd return. He had done his best to bottle his emotions, to keep them shut and locked inside, so that you wouldn't be disappointed in him upon your arrival. Proud that he never doubted you for a moment.
But he had. He had doubted you, cried at the lack of your comfort. Afraid of what it meant to be without you. Fearful of living, never getting to gleam your existence for a second time— and now you want him to pretend as if he never knew you.
As if he can't see the slight smugness in the Traveler's eyes.
His fight with the Traveler is personal. He bares his teeth, snarling like a rabid dog. His every strike is fast, precise with the intent to kill and maim. Childe hopes his emotions reach you, that you know of his bitterness and acrimony. That you know of how long he wished for you, how long he yearned for you to come back— how his frustration has twisted into pure rage, turned into a fine point. 
He just has to simply show you how he's better. He has to show you that he's superior in every way to your choice. That you should've chosen him over them. 
They are undeserving; watch how he rips through them like they are nothing, slicing through them like they are mist over sea. They are unworthy; see how easily he beats them into submission, how easily they crumble at his feet. The matter of the Gnosis is nothing to him, now— only whether you see how he should be the one you prefer. 
It's then that he feels it. Your rage. Your anger at having been battered and bruised. The Traveler stands back up, but something is different now. Their strikes are fluid, prowess and skill increased by an outside force. 
You. 
Do you hate him that badly? Detest him so much, to go so far as to bless another with your strength so they can prove themselves to be his better? Even in his Foul Legacy form, Childe is forced to retreat; forced to bow his head in defeat, weakened by the burden of his transformation.
The realization leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He's done the exact opposite of what he set out to do. All he's proven is that your right.
Childe feels your crushing weight bearing down on him. He spits the words out, calls them 'friend' through clenched teeth. He dances to your whims, just as he had previously. Unnatural, stiff movements and words that speak the opposite of what he means. 
And then you're gone, left along with them. He stares at their fading back. He can almost imagine you beside them, walking by their side just as you once did his. 
It hurts.
The next time he feels you, there is no sign of the Traveler. Only a tight pulling in his chest. 
He doesn't know what it means, or what it entails. But he follows, sensing you at the end, waiting for him. Childe doesn't allow himself to hope; that maybe, you have come around. That maybe you do care. That maybe, you never hated him— not truly. That you missed him just as he missed you. 
Maybe he meant something, after all.
When he reaches you, he feels it. You're happy. You're happy with him. He feels you reaching out, tickling him with strands of your will. You brush against his skin, burrow deep inside. Childe lets you, still unable to breathe.
He wonders if this is really happening. Have you come back to him, truly? Have you finally realized how much better he is? He feels you graze his soul, reaching deep within. Childe feels you envelop him, swathing him in warmth and comfort. 
You're home, you whisper. 
He only hears the ghost of your voice, a chime in the wind; but he hears the intent, the meaning behind your unintelligible words, even though he can't understand them. 
Childe breaks. 
SANGUINE NATUS ; first meeting/as a worshiper
If even just your breath could leave him weak, then seeing you for the first time makes his knees give out underneath him.
It's a foolishly embarrassing display, but Childe can't find it in himself to care. He falls to his knees quicker than his mind can catch up, unconsciously posturing himself to make himself seem as small and harmless as possible— anything to make you stay, even if it means sabotaging his image.
He tucks his shoulders inward, struggling between looking at you until his eyes burn and your image is seared into the back of his eyelids, or averting his gaze because just touching you with them feels like he's sullying you somehow.
His breath comes out short and sharp, his entire chest heaving with each shuddering, raspy exhale. Before he can even manage a sound, he's sobbing, crumpling to the floor— there's no care taken to your perception of him now, only the wailful cries of one lost in the weight of your eyes. Childe knows he's being pathetic, a mess of airy desperation and red eyes; everything he was when he felt the ghost of you leave him, and everything he wished you'd never see. But it's you, and for the first time, he can truly feel your eyes on him.
It's all too much to bear.
"I-It's you, it's you—!" Childe manages to choke, wet tears caking the apples of his face. His eyes strain, burning to see the visage of you through the blur of his vision. Nausea bites at him, his abdomen a sudden storm from the tears that lick at his cheeks.
Childe has always been austere in his worship; strict, solemn in how he acts out every religious rite. There is an icy silence unlike him as he moves, particularly whenever your sanctity is involved. His fingers still tremble despite his stiffness, the desperation loud in every twitch of his limbs. The desire to see you, after all is said and done.
Seeing you for the first time feels as though a wave has overtaken him, drowning him in brine and the cerulean of muddy waters. There is no hiding what he could barely contain before— jerky movements filled with need and the dolor of one disappointed before.
Childe no longer finds himself able to veil it by lies and rushing fights of adrenaline; now, it lies bare, and there's no burning ache to keep it hidden.
His fervor is relentless; a feverish desire to please you coalescing until it's unbearable for his skin. Your reaction to his cries could have been cruel or kind, and it wouldn't have bothered him; all that matters is whether he has finally proven himself worthy of standing by your side.
His worship is eager words spilling from his lips at night, the echo of your name a murmur from his mouth like the sigh of the ocean's waves-- his blades stained red, limp at his sides-- the burning in the back of his throat that comes from years of pleading.
You're here now, even if he can't be with you at all times; and that knowledge leaves him whispering to you, uttering every thought without a moment of reconsideration. It is a ceaseless endeavor, as every word is listless praise and endless adoration. There isn't a moment where he isn't thinking of you in some way, and the mere thought of the opposite leaves him feeling vaguely sick.
He wants to think of you all the time. Though it's such a small thing, in his mind, he has you all to himself— in the sense that there is no one else to take your eyes off of him— there, he can make you happy; there, he can make you proud of him. In that world, you have no reason to be rid of him.
Childe's always kept his habit of crafting you makeshift gifts. They're rugged, imperfect things, but laden with his fingerprints and the palms of his hands. Before, he could only set them still on his altar for you, and hope that it pleased you somehow. He was only ever met with silence, but he could pretend you were happy with him, and the idea alone was enough.
When he catches sight of a sea conch, its pale marks swirled across its smooth surface, he can only think of handing it to you. It's a beautiful thing, and so simple and crude a gift; but maybe you will find worth in such a thing, the simplicity of its nature, and praise him for it.
He gives them to you physically now, unable to shake the urge to do so. His hands always tremble when he hands them over, his knees threatening to buckle underneath him whenever your fingers brush against his. He will never fail to drown in the sensation, allowing everything that he is to become thoughts of you.
Childe has always worshiped you in bloodshed. In the past, he hoped it would leave you satisfied enough to come back; now, it's to prove how much better he is than everyone else. His fear runs deep, like cracks in the earth far below the water's surface, and the sickening feeling of dread whenever you praise someone else suffocates him.
It's unreasonable, he knows, and he has no reason to fear, not anymore— but his heart still quickens at the thought, and his stomach still twists.
It's an all too familiar feeling. When he was first torn from you, he felt as though his heart had been ripped right out of him; and the panic he feels only reminds him of it.
When he's inevitably forced away from you on another mission, he deals with it as quickly as possible, no matter how bloodied or bruised he leaves it. He is brutally unkind in his workings, his words always terse and clipped; a slight edge that never really seems to go away until he knows you're somewhere nearby.
It's when he's forced to stay away from you for a longer period of time that he breaks completely. Upon his return, he is instantly back at your side, heaving sobs and ugly tears running down his face. He can barely think, and a flurry of slurred words leaves his lips— begging to never leave your side again.
Childe knows better than to think he is deserving of your kindness, but he’s desperate to at least stay in your shadow. There, he could stay near you, even if he was swathed in black— even if his only glimpse of you was your back, he would be in bliss. To be near you in some form is all he could ever ask of you.
For all of the power you have granted him, it's only right that he use it for you. A mere word from anyone that isn't pure praise has his grip on his weapon tightening, the tendons on his hand taut and his knuckles pale. He remains entirely oblivious to any moral ambiguity in your actions— whatever you do is right and just; as you are the only one worthy of judging yourself, he does not dare too.
Instead, Childe draws his blade in judgement of others— he will act as your hand and executioner, the arbiter of your faith; it's with only vigor that he hands out punishment, a ferocity bold and true.
AMANS IN SPINIS IACET ; as your lover
Childe's dreams have begun to take a sudden turn.
It's not anything he can control, despite how hard he tries too. They pleased him at first, even though he still couldn't help the way his heart tightened at the idea of you somehow knowing. At that time, they weren't occurring enough for him to be worried, and the content themselves were innocent enough for him to think nothing of it.
You held him close to you, pressing benign kisses across his freckled cheeks, playing with his hair with soft fingers; little things that he could believe meant nothing at all, just a desire to feel your affection in the only way his mortal heart knew how.
The dreams turn nightly, and Childe finally realizes it's much more than that.
It begins at signs of your favoritism. Glances that last more than they should, summoning him to your chambers more frequently; Childe does not deny you, and he can't help the faint giddiness that clouds his mind every time he feels your gaze linger on him. It's a euphoric sensation to know that he is the one you are looking at; no one else. Only barely does he manage to rein in his emotions every time.
You speak much softer to him, and your touch is more affectionate. He turns drunk on your approval, willingly dancing to your whims if it meant having your fingers coiled in his hair for another moment. Before he can stop himself for even daring to think it, Childe lets himself believe he's special to you— and that is where the problem arises.
The thoughts don't stop. Even if he screams to drown out the noise, they still manage to be so loud. The dreams are relentless, more loving, more vivid. He can feel the warmth of your palms as you caress his cheeks, the weight of your breath when you draw your head near; they feel so real, that for a moment, he thinks you're the one sending them to him.
He feels as though he's dirtying you in some form, as if he is the one committing an unforgivable sin against you; somehow managing to desecrate you with just his thoughts alone. The idea sends him into a panic-induced frenzy, kneeling before his altar with rushed, unintelligible apologies on his lips.
Despite his self-hatred, whenever he wakes from one, Childe is left blissfully dazed, nuzzling into his pillow with hazy clarity— pretending that it's you, instead. He wonders what it would be like if his dreams were real, if he could really be so special to you in such a way; entirely irreplaceable, entirely yours.
It doesn't take long for his will to be eroded by his desperation. His desire to resist was already hanging by a thread, and as the dreams persist, any resistance on his end is lost. He falls ever deeper into an abyss of his own making, allowing himself to be undone by his own creation.
Childe has always been needy, but as his feelings rear their ugly head, it only grows worse. He has always loved you— and he had been struggling to choke his own feelings down for as long as he could, fooling himself into believing that they didn't exist in the first place. In his eyes, it's only right that you be the one to shake the foundation he lay; making him crumble until every dark part of himself is laid bare in front of you, only for your eyes.
There's a drastic increase in his desperation to be near you, and any lack of refusal on your part only exacerbates it. He neglects his duties entirely in favor of staying by you in some way or another, be it either by your side, or following you from a distance like a lost puppy.
Your admittance of feelings only makes Childe more fervent. He can barely hear himself speak, his heart fluttering against his ribcage like a caged canary. He can barely believe anything you're saying, and for a moment, he wonders if he's lost in another dream of his.
At your assurance, Childe doesn't dare to doubt you any longer. He falls entirely into you, allowing you to consume his every thought. He doesn't think to fight back, letting you envelop him until his every breath is coated in your name. He is yours, and he has no desire for anything more.
His desire for your approval now emboldens him. Childe's always acted out of an interest in garnering your attention, and though he now knows of your feelings, it does nothing to satiate him; instead, it leaves him hungrier, greedy with an eagerness to please.
He doesn't take from you without asking, but he asks enough for it to be a nuisance. Your affection is everything to him, and he can't bear to go a moment without it. He asks to lay his head in your lap, for you to play with his hair— the loss of your touch is the loss of himself, and sends him reeling back to memories of when he was without you.
The first time you kiss him, his legs instantly give out underneath him, a small groan leaving his lips. Childe doesn't bother to dull his reactions; you deserve to know how easily weakened he is by your touch, with even a brush of your fingers enough to leave him breathless and wanting.
As your favorite, Childe is quick to be rid of any competition. Whether or not you see them as possible suitors doesn't even cross his mind— the fear that snakes around his heart is ever-present, and if they're better than him in some form, it only grows in persistence. He doesn't hurt them, because surely that would upset you, and any devotee of you is worthy of respect— but he is quick to showcase his superiority, and to do so broadly without shame.
Childe grows used to his new status, and uses it to stay by your side constantly. Any attention you give to others is met with instant jealousy, seething glares sent to whoever stole your gaze, even if they only preoccupied a second of your mind.
He could never be mad at you, as clearly the fault lies within himself.
Any signs of your likes and dislikes are instantly noted. If you compliment someone for their behavior, he begins to emulate it, or at least he tries too. If you like Zhongli for how well he executes your orders, then Childe will be the same; only he will do it better, quicker, and prove himself still deserving of your love.
If he were perfect, then you would have no need for anyone else. If he were perfect, he would never have to worry about whether you'll grow bored of him the moment he stops being entertaining enough.
The thought of you with another leaves Childe sick without fail. He knows he has no control over you, and that if you wished to be rid of him, he would willingly walk into whatever punishment awaited him— but now that he has tasted what it feels like to be so utterly yours, he can't bear to imagine another sharing the same treatment.
You kissing another, holding another, letting someone else lay against you; all of it only serves to further blur his vision. Even if it is sinful of him to feel, he can't stop the emotions from swirling in his chest.
You are everything; the earth laid beneath his feet, the foundation of which he relies on. To be without you is to fall, to be without you means death; and if he must carve his skin and bone to fit the picture you want him to be, then he shall.
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queen-of-scissors · 1 year
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SUCKER FOR LOVE pt1
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masterlist
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dolliehina · 1 month
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I fully believe Spoiled God!reader is just a horny little shit.
As much as teyvat praises you and all that bullshit they just can't fuck you unless they have a brat taming kink or are just so horny they'll fuck anything. Like— you're such a fucking cunt of a God you can't even get dick or pussy without whining, crying, and babbling about how good it feels and how "It's too much" like stfu and ride their cock/strap goddamnit.
Though if somebody else had to fuck you it'd probably be for a feeling of power? They'd get off to the idea of their spoiled little God/creator gagging on their strap/cock as they fingerblast your slutty hole. They get to see you beg for them— like I said, it's a power thing for them. Though... you do look awfully cute all fucked out and covered in their cum.
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avocad1s · 11 months
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Note: This has been in my drafts for a while, so while I’m finishing Part Seven, I’ll post this.
Character Included: Zhongli, Venti, Ei, Tsaritsa, Xiao, Ganyu, Diluc, Ningguang, Childe, Scaramouche, Dottore
This is long so everyone else is utc! :>
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As the Creator, suitors will seek to win your attention. Your inherent beauty is unparalleled, many could only imagine to be graced with your physical or verbal affections. So when word gets out that you want to be with someone romantically, everyone will jump at the opportunity.
If you pick one of the ARCHONS, no one in Teyvat would be surprised. It was obvious you valued them the most out of everyone in Teyvat, they had the strongest connection to you.
If you pick is Zhongli, that is when his identity as the former Geo Archon is officially revealed. Many were surprised to see that their Archon never died, and others questioned why he wanted to take a mortal form in the first place. However none of those things mattered when he was the one you held dear.
Liyue as a whole held a ton of pride it was their Archon you wanted to be with. That means you’ll want to stay in their nation permanently, no? For Zhongli, this is a moment he has waited millennia’s for. He always knew he was your most devoted, everything he’s done was for the betterment of Teyvat and you. When it comes to your relationship, He will do anything to make you happy. If it’s as small as getting you your own Serenitea Pot? Consider it done. If it’s something as major as becoming the Geo Archon again? He’ll do it in a heartbeat.
As much as he cares for you, Zhongli knows that you still have matters to attend to in the other nations. He would be glad to go with you if you wanted but he also has no problem staying in Liyue until you return. He’s waited this long and now that he has you, being apart for a little bit won’t hurt (at least that’s what he tells himself after you’re gone for two weeks).
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Considered to be the weakest of the seven, Venti is ecstatic that he is the one you want to be with. He has a carefree and playful nature that bleeds into his nation naturally, but even if he doesn’t show his devotion as strongly as Zhongli, it’s still present.
He enjoys doing any activity with you, do you enjoy wine? Well let him take you to Diluc’s Tavern for the best wine you can drink. Naturally he always offers to pay, but unknown to you he’ll just put it on his never ending tab. (not that anyone would ever charge you for anything, you’re their God!). Do you enjoy his singing? He’s absolutely flattered! Let him sing you all the songs he knows, and eventually you’ll two will be able to perform duets of the songs you enjoy the most.
Just like in Liyue, Venti’s true identity will be revealed once your relationship is announced. Mondstadt will be overjoyed, not only has Lord Barbatos returned but he has secured the love of the Creator themselves. You should do expect lots of songs made about you two. You both will be a symbol of love in the nation of Freedom. Not only that, Mondstadt will plan many festivals throughout the year dedicated to the two of you. (Perhaps even a marriage?)
Just like his nation, Venti values freedom above all else. He would never want to hold you back from doing anything you love, so if you wish to visit other nations he has no problem with it. Of course there will be times he’d want to go with you, especially if the nation you’re going to is having some event in your name but Mondstadt is his home and that’s where he likes to stay. Don’t worry though, he will always be waiting for your return and he will have more songs to sing and stories to recite while you both relax in Windrise.
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This could go one of two ways with Ei.
If you choose her during the vision hunt decree, it would solidify in her head that what she’s doing is right and that even her Creator supports it. She would be way more harsh in pursuing her view of eternity, the fight with the rebellious army would end quickly once the Shogun joins the battlefield. Now they aren’t just disrespecting her, they are disrespecting you. She will not allow that.
The citizens of Teyvat would be conflicted. Should they get rid of their visions? Do you not like them? Maybe you’ll show them they same value if they didn’t have them anymore. It would certainly be a mess for you to clean.
Also in this scenario leaving Inazuma would be… difficult. Ei doesn’t understand why you want to leave, what can those nations offer you that she can’t. She’s doing this all for you and her sister, can’t you see that?
Now if you choose her after the Traveler’s involvement in Inazuma, she would be different. Now she’s trying to find another way to pursue eternity and having you there to support and help her definitely makes her feel better about the situation. She wants to have a better relationship with her nation but she doesn’t know how to go about that, but everyone adores you so being with you should help! At least she hopes.
On the rare occasion she decides to walk around Inazuma city she would be happy if you go with her. She can be a bit awkward at times since she doesn’t believe she should indulge herself but if you tell her she can have all the dango and dango milk she desires she’ll come around to the idea. Especially if you’re indulging with her.
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“Oh… You’re picking the Tsaritsa? Oh no! There’s no problem with that, you can pick whoever you like Your Grace.”
That is a line you’d hear all the time after announcing your affections for the ice queen. Not many people can think of Snezhnaya without thinking of the Fatui and all of the… things they’ve done in each nation.
Although to the rest of the world, the groups motives are unknown it must be something you support if you harbor affection for the founder of the Fatui, right?
No matter, even if people would have their objections to the union, no one would dare say anything. The Fatui’s power would only grow stronger, many would believe that going against them now means that they go against you. (They might even use that to their advantage)
The Tsaritsa cares deeply for you. As if you are a flame, her cold persona melts immediately when she’s in the presence of you. She’d do absolutely anything for you, and I mean anything. She’s already forsaken her relationships with her fellow Archons so if you make any requests about your distaste of other nations she will waste no time taking care of it.
Unlike the other Archons, she’s is open to killing for you, even if she doesn’t do it herself, she has a lot of powerful people who can take care of it for her.
When it comes to you leaving the nation, she’ll be reluctant. Snezhnaya has everything you need, why would you want to go anywhere else? Are you cold? She can easily get you some warmer clothes or warm you up herself. She’ll come up with any excuse to keep you to here. Don’t get it wrong though, she still has lots of respect for you and your word is still law. If you stay stubborn about leaving the snowy nation, she’ll give up and let you leave. But she will always have an eye on you so don’t worry :)
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If you pick one of the ADEPTI Liyue feels honored, you may not have feelings for their Archon but the Adepti are the next best thing, right? The rest of Teyvat are a bit confused, what’s so special about these illuminated beasts that caught your attention?
The tactful Ganyu is conflicted if she can only pick one of her two lives. Humanity or the Adepti. Is she capable of doing both? She’ll try her hardest, her contract with Rex Lapis and her position as the secretary to the Liyue Qixing makes her schedule impossibly full. However she will always make time for you.
You mean everything to her, when she fought in the Archon War by Rex Lapis’ side it was for you. Being with you is a dream come true, it was something she always fantasized about. Although she never thought she’d actually catch your eye.
Anytime you’re in Liyue she’ll attach herself to your side catering to your every need. For once she doesn’t mind putting off her work if it means she can spend more time with you. She’ll take you to best places to eat in Liyue, bring you to drink tea with the rest of the Adepti, and if you wish to watch her spar with the Conquerors Of Demons. Well don’t blame her is she shows off a bit.
Once your stay in Liyue comes to an end, Ganyu will drown herself in her work. She has so much catching up to do and even though she regrets it now, she knows she’ll do it again once you come back to her.
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Oh Xiao… he believes he doesn’t deserves the value you give him. As much as he cares and loves you, he came to terms that he’d only watch you from afar. He will protect Liyue for you so you can enjoy the greatest things this world has to offer. So why? He wants to ask. All of the blood he has shed over the centuries, how can you feel this way about him?
It’s obvious that Xiao has a good amount of self- depreciation, he feels as if he has to push everyone he cares about away. All of his fellow Yaksha has fallen and Xiao doesn’t want to drag anyone down with him.
Yet staying away from you is hard for him, when all you want is to be with him how can he refuse a request from his God? He fears that getting to close to you would makes his worst nightmare come true, but eating Almond Tofu with you won’t hurt anything… and maybe looking at the stars on top of Wangshuu Inn?
You are a double edged sword for Xiao, being with you makes him fear you may get hurt. However when you two are apart, he feels his karmic debt downing him.
But if you don’t show affections for him until after his time in the Chasm with Yelan and the others, he would be drastically different. He now realizes that his life, like everyone else’s, has meaning. He doesn’t have to push the ones he cares for away and he doesn’t have to constantly sacrifice himself for others.
In this instance Xiao would try way harder when it comes to being with you, he doesn’t know much about relationships or any type of customs that comes with it, but he will try for you. He doesn’t want to disappoint.
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So it’s not the Archons nor the Adepti you desire? Well that’s completely fine! There are many other influential people that live in Teyvat. Some might even call them the LEADERS of the nation they reside in. Or maybe they are just very dependable and have gained everyone’s trust and respect.
Oh so it’s Master Diluc that you desire? Well no one in Mondstadt can blame you. He is the most desired bachelor in the nation of freedom after all. Although many are disappointed that they won’t have a chance with the tavern owner anymore, they also can’t help but feel a bit relieved that it’s you he’s with.
And my oh my, Diluc is just as surprised that you want him too, but it’s a welcome surprise. After his father died and his relationship with his brother became… strained you were all he had left. He would pray to you daily about his wine business, his tavern, or even his secret identity as the Darknight Hero.
Once you descend, his devotion to you becomes stronger.
He doesn’t trust the Knights with your safety, we all know he believes they are incompetent so once you step into Mondstadt, expect Diluc to basically be glued to your side. You want anything from the shops? Let him buy it! He has more than enough Mora to buy anything you desire. Do you want some wine? Please allow him to escort you to Dawn Winery for the finest wine he has.
Speaking of Dawn Winery, Diluc would prefer if you’d stay there. The Fatui bought out the nicest inn Mondstadt has to offer, and even though they explicitly stated they had no problem with their Crestor staying there, Diluc doesn’t want you to. He has a big issue with the Fatui and as long as you are in Mondstadt, they have no chance getting near you.
Diluc doesn’t mind when you depart Mondstadt, he knows how busy you are and he has important work to get done himself. Unless you are leaving for Snezhnaya, he will try to convince you to go somewhere else. If that doesn’t work, he will worry constantly worry about your safety in the claws of the Fatui. His prayers to you would increase until you’re back in his arms again.
-
There is no such thing as a secret in Liyue, so when you show affections Ningguang. Everyone in Liyue will find out fast. Not much is known about Ningguang and all of the things she does for Liyue, people will scramble to catch even a spec of knowledge that falls from the Jade Chamber.
But one thing everyone knows about the woman is how much she loves you. Before you descended, her daily routine would consist of praying to you as soon as she wakes, working, and praying again before she lays to rest. When Liyue throws celebrations in your name, she would give you the most lavish offerings. Not one person in Teyvat would be able to match anything she gives you.
Anytime you’re in Liyue she will force insist that you stay in her home. Have you seen a better place in Teyvat? She doubts it! Don’t forget about the amazing view she has up there too. Ningguang will also handle all of the expenses for anything you desire, she’s arguably the richest woman in Teyvat there is not one thing you’d want that would be out of her budget. If her God wants it, you will have it
She’d treat you to the most luxurious meals you will ever have, making sure everything is adjusted to your tastes. Even if the spices you like don’t originate from Liyue, she will send people to go get whatever you need. All that matters to her is to see you happy.
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Erm, Your Grace? The one you desire is a FATUI HARBINGER? You should stay away from the likes of them. They have no good intentions, all they do is exploit innocent people and gain power over the other nations. The Fatui has no respect for…
There are only four things Childe cares for, his family, the Tsaritsa, fighting, and you. As he grew up, his family told him how amazing you were and all he dreamed about was meeting you face to face, and when he became a Fatui Harbinger he knew that would be possible.
However he got more than he would’ve ever imagined. He got to call you his.
Childe has no issue killing anyone for you, if anyone goes against you, he will take care of it.
Unlike anyone before, Childe will want to go everywhere with you, he’s already a Harbinger so he’s used to traveling to all of the nations and not only that, he has the money to go anywhere too (thank Pantalone for that smh)
He will rub this in the faces of his comrades, he’s the youngest Harbinger, the lowest ranked but he still managed to snag your attention? Yeah, they’re not living this down.
When it’s just the two of you though he’s soft, he’d love for you to meet his family. They mean so much to him just like you do, to have you all in the same room would make him so happy.
-
Where should I start with the Balladeer? He‘s a puppet and doesn’t have a heart, but these feeling he has for you is strong.
At first he tries to push you away, his… mother cares so much for you and as he tries to distance himself from her, he thought that meant he had to hate you. But he couldn’t…
As he tried to find meaning within himself, everyone kept telling him to turn to you. Even his own friend that tragically died had told him that your divine light would guide him in the right direction. He didn’t want to listen.
Once he had joined the Fatui he figured he wouldn’t hear about you again, but oh boy was he wrong. He hadn’t met anyone more devoted to you than this group, everything they do is for you. All of the killing, exploiting, experimenting, and lying was done in your name and honor.
Scaramouche needed something to latch on to, his mother thought he was useless, and unbeknownst to him at the time, his attachment to the Fatui was a complete lie.
He will try to be useful in any way he can. The Fatui wouldn’t matter to him anymore, getting his hands on the Electro Gnosis doesn’t matter, all that matters is what you want.
With you around, he finally has something to fill his heart with, he will do anything and everything not to upset you. The last thing he wants is for you to throw him away like everyone else.
-
So it’s the Doctor that you want? Can’t say that I blame you…
On the surface, it would seem that Dottore doesn’t worship you. He won’t deny your existence if asked but if he’s asked if he worships you, he’s closed off about it.
Even in his days in the Akademiya he would always pray to you for luck before his studies or exams (not that he needed it). When he was interested in ancient machines and wanted to know more, he would pray to you for a breakthrough to prove to the Akademiya scholars and sages that this is what they should be studying. However he was chased out before that could happen.
He didn’t blame you for it, in fact, leaving Sumeru had given him a better opportunity, the Fatui. They actually funded any experiment he desired, whether it was about the ancient machines, the Archons, or the secrets of Teyvat, he would know it all.
However once you arrived, you took all his attention.
It’s not that he wanted to experiment on your per say, it’s just… he wanted to know more about you! You’re the God of Gods, you have power people on Teyvat could only imagine having. Being able to take a closer look at you would mean everything.
Once the two of you become close, Sumeru are the first to regret it, the one you favor is someone they had thrown out of their nation not just once, but twice. They feel absolutely foolish.
Since you’re a God, Dottore definitely believes your have greater intelligence than the God of Wisdom herself and he would love to “poke at your brain” if you allow him, he would ask you questions about wherever you were before coming to Teyvat and how Teyvat was many centuries ago.
If this is before his time in Sumeru and creating his own God, he would still have his Segments from previous times in his life. Yeah… they’re all devoted to you too. So if you like Dottore, that means them too right?
I think it’s clear that he and his Segments do not get along, they’d all be fighting for your attention lmao (obviously he wins all the time) but if Dottore is too busy with his Harbinger duties he doesn’t mind if you want to spend time with them. It’s better than you running to someone else for attention.
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Note: I am also working on a masterlist atm so that should be out once part seven comes out! 🫡
© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website
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mondaymelon · 5 months
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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)
⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]
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— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.
Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.
Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.
A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"
Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?
"-won't..."
Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?
He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"
"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.
"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"
His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.
It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"
His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.
"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.
A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.
Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.
Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.
"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."
"Y-Yes, ludex?"
"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."
The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.
"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."
And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.
A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.
You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.
"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."
"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.
It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.
Ah, that was it.
His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.
Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.
Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.
There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.
"...Wh...Where am I?"
That. That voice.
Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.
"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?
"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?
"Ah, then about that question-"
"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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yandere-3-sagau · 7 months
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Creator Reader With No Powers Except Plot Armor
warning(s): death, mentions of suicide, violence
Reader doesn’t have any special abilities or golden blood so they are unable to prove that they are creator.
However, they also think Teyvat is a dream or they want to go back home so they accept any punishment from the acolytes.
But any time they are going to be executed, there is some divine intervention.
They are about to be burned at the stake but it rains.
They are schedule to be hanged but the rope breaks. They try again but every rope breaks.
They decide to shoot reader with arrows but miraculously every one of them misses. Even the one aimed right at their heart ended up being blocked by a bird flying by.
They are about to be beheaded but the machine breaks. So someone tries to do it manually but lightning strikes and the character loses balance and falls.
With how many times they try to kill reader but fail without them even lifting a finger they begin to believe that they’re truly the creator.
Reader is just going with the flow, not taking anything seriously. They thought they were lucky at first with how they’re able to avoid death.
Later on after they’ve accepted them as their true creator, reader begins to feel homesick and hate Teyvat. They’re swamped with all these responsibilities and expectations that it overwhelms them.
Reader then tries to discard their title as creator. They claim that they’re an imposter and apologizes for “fooling” them. However, no one believes them. They made the mistake of calling them as an imposter once, they’re not gonna make that mistake again.
When that doesn’t work, reader themself tries to die. But the divine interventions that they used to think were amazing ended up sending them into a pit of despair because every attempt they tries, they fail.
They jumps off a high structure/cliff, reader lands on a bunch of water slimes that completely cushion their fall.
Reader tries to stab themself in the heart but a flying rock knocks the knife out of their hand just as it’s about to connect.
Reader tries to ingest a poisonous flower but the effects are nullified when the super rare antidote plant falls off a tree and into their open mouth when they’re unconscious.
It’s like final destination but instead of crazy things happening leading to death, it’s crazy things happening deterring death.
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ikebo-simp · 4 months
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Ayyyy continuation time of this post, but this time with more people in turned with the world!
Neuvillette, the reincarnation of the Hydro Sovereign who has been in your presence before, felt instantly that whoever was paradng as the Creator was an imposter, a fake, but with no real way to prove his intution, he was forced to remain silent, gritting his teeth in anger as he's forced to bow before this filthy pretender
Klee was confused with the arrival of the "Creator" Klee's mother told her that when the True Creator arrived, she's come back, but even the supposedly the Creator returned, her mama didn't show up, and her mama never lies, so this person must be a liar! Klee doesn't wanna interact with liars so she tries avoid them as much as she can!
Venti hears the winds complain to him day in and out about this fake in the position of creator, he knows well that the world rejects this imposter, but he stays in the court of the Imposter, clinging to the arm of the Fake, the others who know the truth look at him as if he's blinded by devotion, but it doesn't matter to him, he's slowly gathering their weak points
A/N Might make more, I enjoy these little moments of doubts
Thanks for Reading
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 5 months
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Hello! I saw that your requests are open so I thought, I'll shoot my shot
So, it'll be SAGAU with Impostor and Isekai trope. The reader is a real Creator, while the fake one is on the throne. But! What if they look completely different? Characters don't hunt reader because well, they don't look like their beloved grace and they're unaware that their sweet creator is in fact a real impostor.
But when you look at reader and the fake creator, you can see a total difference in their surroundings. The real Creator - Reader, is connected to the Teyvat, right? The flowers bloom everywhere where they stand, the trees are more green and lively, while there's nothing like this with the impostor in the throne.
So! To the idea- How about Zhongli and Kaeya's (or any other characters you'd like to add here) to see their Reader cut themselves and suddenly bleed gold - while they saw their beloved Grace bleed red and suddenly, they connect the dots?
Ooh, this is certainly interesting, @ilumin! I'll see what I can come up with :)
Zhongli & Kaeya Find Out The Imposta :)
You weren't gonna lie—you kinda freaked when you realize the isekai and sagau trope thing happened on you. Reading fanfiction from the internet, you knew how things were gonna go down. You read the signs.
Safe to say you were not expecting you yourself to be the "lucky winner" of this entire thing. Nu-uh. Not one bit. You knew this was gonna be a hellhole.
That is, of course....you realized that the Imposter did not look like you at all. You were kinda stoked about it—that means you weren't gonna get ratted out, or killed, or hunted—so yay you! Time to chill with some bros! Time to free ball it while you still can!
And thennn... one night you were hanging with some ppl, and you accidentally nicked your finger.
You guessed it right, fellas, you bled gold. And that did not go unnoticed.
Good luck.
(Warning: Might be OOC!)
Zhongli
When he first met you, Zhongli thought you were like The Traveler—you were someone who passed the Celestial Atmosphere above, and descended down to traverse the world.
With Their Grace present, their world has prospered and Zhongi is proud to say that Liyue was doing well under their rule. But when you came, he was a little surprised to see how the earth seemed to connect with you. Flowers around you seemed brighter, precious rocks seem to surface at your presence..and you somehow manage to always be able to get the most freshest fruit anyone can come across.
You were truly an interesting enigma that Zhongli is curious to learn more of. He commits every detail about you to memory. The day the wind conveniently came to the rescue when the days were boiling hot. The time where you managed to restock your food stalls even though so many Liyueans were nabbing them and almost leaving you nothing. Everything Zhongli saw, he noted down in his mind.
You eventually became acquainted with him the moment he walks up to your food stall. It wasn't that packed in the morning (somehow), and it allowed the two of you to get to know one another better. Safe to say your relationship was solid.
And then you bled gold that one night. Zhongli eyes your blood with wide expressions, before immediately excusing the both of you out of the situation.
He cannot believe that the person that sits on the Creator's Throne was not the Creator. He's constantly being bombarded with the "Creator" and their meetings, while you were just selling goods on the streets of Liyue.
"...Your Grace..." Zhongli looks at you as he puts a bandage over your finger. "...Truly, we have all been deceived." And while you're glad that he wasn't suggesting you start up a riot, you were kind of worried about what he'll do to the Imposter the next time Zhongli sees him.
Safe to say he did have a "Chat" with them that consisted of a meteor and a lot of "I will have Order!" voicelines repeating over and over again.
Kaeya
When you got plopped into Mondstadt, somehow, the winds started becoming more gentle and a lot more carefree. Everyone saw this as a sign of Barbatos, you saw this as a sign of the world trying to rat you out or something.
You decided to get a job at the Tavern to get info, and boom you meet Kaeya. You should've expected this when you got a job at Angel's Share, because this hottie bro is very much interested on your merchandise.
Safe to say, though, Kaeya was very interested in you. Like Zhongli, he takes note of your every move. But, unlike Zhongli, Kaeya's trying to see how your...unique superpowers work, and how they can be used to help protect Mondstadt—assuming he manages to convince you to join.
Kaeya is very talkative in the Tavern, so he usually talks to the bartenders. Diluc is pulling his hair out to see how much info Kaeya's spilling to you during your shifts, half of which are just boasting about the Knights of Favonius.
When you nicked your finger, though, you knew things were going down. It didn't help that Kaeya noticed. His eyes widen for a fraction, before he stands up and suggests that you both should take a walk around the streets of Mondstadt when your shift was done.
You agree, seeing as there's no way out of this, and quickly grab a bandaid to patch up the scratch. Once you were both out, Kaeya speaks first, in a low tone.
"My...I never knew the Almighty Creator could be this sneaky, to have an imposter sit on the throne while they serve cups at my favorite tavern." You look at him incredulously. He took the situation to praise you to make himself sound like he was blessed?
Good sir, this was the opposite of how your life got thrown upside down when you entered Teyvat. Then again, this sounded a lot better than getting killed, so you'll take it as a win. For now.
Kaeya promises to keep this a secret, but safe to say Diluc is rubbing his temples when he hears the Calvary Captain himself trying to offer you a position in the Knights of Favonius, saying you had potential and whatnot.
Honestly, he just wants to spend more time with you outside of the tavern.
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Why the heck did this take SO MUCH LONGER than I expected sobbing. Sorry y'all—istg life is hitting me like Truck-Kun.
Also one more thing: Furina is my new child now. She and Fremmi are my Fontantian Children. Love 'em both too much ppl will have to pry them out of my cold-dead hands.
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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ymechi · 6 months
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The hidden creator
I had a plot bunny idea
TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere
-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)
EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)
Creator Reader Pov:
-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places
-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories
-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea
-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew
-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent
-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you
-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now
-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine
-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items
-overall you are content
-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times
-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him
-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.
-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you
-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave
-Overall you were doing okay
-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore
-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you
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Tsaritsa Pov:
-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake
-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage
-Even if she had to stain her hands
-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat
-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground
-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.
-You were their true creator
-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated
-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.
-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .
-You were safer hidden among mortals
-It left a bitter taste in her mouth
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Neuvilette Pov
-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters
-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this
-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened
-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up
-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop
-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside
-Then he saw you and everything clicked
-It was you his creator his universe his everything
-You were back
-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human
-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here
-His heart ached seeing you
-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him
-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-
-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you
-Attention that would cause you trouble
-He left with defeat on his steps
-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck
-All for your sake
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quimichi · 4 months
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↳ ❝FIRST KISS WITH THE GENSHIN BOYS❝
warnings: slight NSFW - MDNI, some angst (Freminet, Mika & Xiao), cringe, not proof-read cause damn its long
summary: your first kiss with the genshin boys, yes even the harbingers and Mika, x Creator!Reader
characters: all genshin guys + harbingers
word count: 11.618
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Aether
Aether's breath catches in his throat as your hand lands on his face. He doesn't look away from your eyes, his gaze still on yours as he takes in your touch with visible delight. He lets out a light, happy sigh as the sensation makes him shiver. Aether leans his face into your palm, relishing the touch. He seems to melt, and with a small whine, he nuzzles the palm of your hand. This makes him smile softly — just one touch and he's already gone to heaven. He closes his eyes, leaning happily into your touch.
"You know I love you...right?" Is what you say, carefully but you want to know. Aether's eyes slowly open as his head remains in your palm. His expression is soft, content, and he looks at you with almost desperate reverence. "Y-Yes, my grace," he whispers hoarsely, "I know." Aether continues to lean into your palm, pressing his face against it. His eyes remain closed, and he just leans into you as he sights loudly and contentedly. The sound is adorable, as is the way he so freely gives himself over to the touch of your hand.
"I am yours," he murmurs, the conviction in his voice clear. "Yours..." he whispers, his lips brushing against your palm. Aether seems to melt into you as your second hand touches his other cheek, his mind foggy and his eyes half-lidded in bliss. His breath catches in his throat; it isn't a breath of surprise, or one of fear, but one of anticipation — of sweet and tender surrender.
Your boy, willingly submitting to your touch; giving himself to you. A soft whimper leaves Aether's mouth, just mere inches away from yours, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Your Grace..." he whispers hoarsely, his words soft and trembling. You lean in, slowly your lips brush against his parted ones. Aether's entire body seems to vibrate with excitement; his lips part slightly at the contact and a soft, happy moan escapes them. He gently wraps his arms around you, leaning in closer for the kiss, as if giving himself to your caresses is a privilege he has waited an eternity for.
The moment is sweet and tender, as if the two of you share something that nobody else will ever be able to know. Like the whole world is reduced, right now, to just the two of you. It is like a dream to Aether. His body quakes slightly as you pull away, his tongue gliding over his lips hungrily, and the breath leaving his mouth as if he just had a sip of divine nectar. He doesn't let go of you, though; as he gazes up at you with a warm blush across his cheeks, his arms remain firmly wrapped around you, as if he wants to make sure you have no intention of letting go.
"You are divine," he says softly, almost as if he's praying. "I'll never forget this, our first kiss ever shared...."
Albedo
For a moment, Albedo seems to struggle to find a way to express the depth of his feelings. He hesitates until he finally forces himself to speak. "I... love you, Your Grace. Immensely. I would do anything for you. I would give you everything, if it were mine to give."
His words are barely above a whisper. He averts his gaze. There's the softest of smiles on his lips as he closes his eyes for a moment. He's not sure what to say after that. Would anything be enough? Albedo is silent for a moment before he nods.
"If you wish."
Without so much as a blink, Albedo has dropped to his knees in front of you. No longer is there a doubt in his mind nor a shred of hesitation in his stance. There's only the smallest of smiles on his lips. He gazes up at you as if you contain every dream he has ever had in his thousands of years of existence. He wants nothing more than to be by your side, whether it be your feet, your knees, or your lap-- all of them will do just fine.
"The only thing you should give me is a kiss." You sneakly said, half jokingly half serious. Albedo nods softly. Without a word, he lifts his head to close the gap between the two of you. Slowly then quickly, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. His fingers tangle through your hair, gently massaging you. In that moment, he does not concern himself with his dignity, nor of his prestige, nor the fact that he is nothing compared to you.
The only thing that matters is you and the warm feeling that settles in his chest. It's as though he is breathing you in. His first kiss, your first kiss, together. Albedo blinks as you two part. Then he smiles softly, as though this is something he's dreamed of for so long he forgot it was a possibility.
"Our first kiss," he whispers, the words almost inaudible. There's a flush on his cheek as he looks down, remembering the feel of your lips on his. His eyes dart between you and the floor, trying to collect himself.
In a moment, he finds himself lost in your eyes. He wants nothing more than to kiss you again. And who would you be to deny him.
Al-Haitham
Al-Haitham wraps his arms around you, sinking into you. His body shakes, the heat of your skin sinking through his veins.
He's breathless. Speechless. All of that changes when you snuggle up to him, pressing your body against his. He's completely still, frozen in shock and delight. He can do nothing but lean into your embrace. The heat from your body sends his heart soaring.
There's nothing else he wants now, except this... right here...And maybe a kiss. The first one to be exact. Al-Haitham pulls you closer, snuggling harder. His body leans into you, clinging like a drowning man to a raft. He pulls your head closer to his shoulder, burying your face in his neck. Your breathing makes his skin tingle. Your arms around him make every inch of him pulse with energy.
Al-Haitham squeezes tighter, burying his face into your hair. His lips press against your head in a silent kiss. His breath hitches as he feels your lips against his neck. He fights the urge to sink into you, to disappear completely within your embrace.
He is utterly gone. Your touch is pure warmth throughout his body, a constant hum that is as soothing as the sea. He wants more. He needs more.
One kiss is not enough.
He turns his head, kissing you on the lips in the same way, gentle.
He can't let go. Not yet. Never.
He kisses you deeply, pouring his heart and soul into the act. All he knows is that you deserve every drop of love he feels for you. He wants you to feel what he does and nothing more. He kisses your lips softly, tenderly, his kisses filled with affection and the pure, unadulterated love he has for you.
He needs you.
His kisses are deep and sensual, and his mind is a blur. All he knows is that this is right.
You are right...
Ayato
Ayato's smirk turns into a sly, almost mischievous grin. Once again, he takes a gentle bite out of your neck, the sharp press of his teeth sending a shudder through your body. It's hard not to lean into his touch, but you try— it isn't always wise to let Ayato's advances get the best of you. You know him more than he thinks, and you know he's just trying to provoke a response. That's always been his forte; his way of flirting.
"Such a mean tease..." you breath. His smirk widens as his teeth nibble at the skin on your neck, Ayato's body curling around yours and one of his hands settling on your thigh. "I could say the same," he whispers against your skin, his voice low and sultry in a way that should be illegal. Ayatos mouth presses to yours, his tongue sweeping across your lower lip. He holds the passionate kiss for a moment, enjoying the way your body presses back.
He pulls away after a few moments, and looks down on you with his signature smirk. "I hope that wasn't too much," he says with a teasing bite to his words. "I wouldn't want our first kiss to be bad for you, dear."
"Overwhelmed" isn't quite the word to describe it either Instead, there's butterflies in your stomach and fire on your skin as Ayato presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone and nibbles on the soft skin. It's difficult not to lean into him or to moan; he's just too good.
"I'm still trying to figure you out," he whispers, as if reading your mind. He takes your hand in his; though his tone is teasing, there's nothing but raw honesty in his eyes.
"My Grace, you are a mystery to me. But this is exactly why i love you...I got plenty of time figuring you out."
Baizhu
Words fail him.
Baizhu lets out a soft sigh as your fingers run along his cheek. His eyes are glued to you as he blinks slowly in your presence.
He doesn't seem to notice the fact that his heart has been beating quicker than usual since you touched him, or that the faint scent of you lingers in his nostrils. He is lost in you, and only you. Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, causing him to take a sharp breath. His entire body tenses. Not even a breath later, he's letting his head fall against your shoulder.
His lips are parted as he draws in ragged sighs. His eyes still hold no trace of doubt or disdain. They seem to be glazed over just in your very presence. "Is there... anything else... Your Grace... wishes for?" he whispers.
Baizhu's voice is hoarse and low, almost as if he's afraid to speak louder than a whisper out of fear of breaking this peaceful spell.
"Yeah..." Baizhu's eyes widen in surprise, but he leans in just as your lips meet his. He seems to freeze in place, neither of you moving at all for what feels like eternity as you continue to kiss.
His lips are soft against yours, his breath hitching as he kisses you slowly. But then, his free hand moves to cup the back of your head. He pulls you in with new energy, as though his lips have grown hungry for you to taste him like this. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer still. Baizhus entire being seems to pulse at the kiss, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your face against his as if afraid to lose you. Afraid that all those years of yearing for you will dissappear like nothing. That his patience and work didn't pay off. With every gentle stroke of your lips against his, his breath grows sharp and ragged.
His lean body shifts as he opens up his mouth against yours once more. Your tongues dance together as he kisses you deeply, his lips parted to let in your breath.
"Bai-..zhu" His body jerks. Even you speaking his name is enough to break his focus. His tongue pulls away from yours, and his breath catches in his throat. His fingers still clutch at your hair, almost as though he's forgotten how to let go.
He tries to speak, but for a moment, his words seem trapped in his throat. It takes him many, many moments before he manages to speak again.
"Yes...?" he whispers. "We...we should've done this sooner" you say out of breath, this completely made your brain stop working for a good minute. Who knew Baizhu could take someones breath away with only one kiss.
"Yes." He chuckles, "We should've...now...shall we continue?"
Bennett - aged up
His eyes go wide as your fingers begin to softly caress his face; but his expression slowly softens as he looks into your eyes. Suddenly, he feels utterly safe. Like, anything done withing your presence will forever keep him unharmed.
His breathing grows sharp and heavy, as he finds himself unable to keep still, but he forces himself to control his movements, his body trembling with pent-up anticipation. Is this going where he thinks it is? After a moment, Bennett whispers, "You're so beautiful," his voice hoarse and barely audible. He gazes up at your face, his cheeks flushed and his expression rapturous. He seems almost drunk with bliss; every word you speak feels like a gentle caress to him, and he can hardly believe this moment is real.
Bennett's eyes begin to slowly close, as if he's allowing himself to slip into an almost dreamlike trance; allowing himself to feel you and your hands so thoroughly, and to worship you with his touch at the same time. You can't help but softly kiss him. Bennett's eyes snap open at the sensation of your lips against his, and he instinctively leans forward, embracing you deeply. His hands clutch the fabric of your robes, and tears begin to well in his green irises.
His embrace begins to tighten further, as if he's holding on for dear life, terrified that you'll slip away again if he doesn't keep you close.
"I'm-I'm so sorry i shouldn't have-" you hastly apologize. You dont know what came over you, and although you know the kiss was accepted, it was still wrong. "You have nothing to apologize for... " Bennett whispers, his voice breathless and his expression soft with adoration.
"In fact..." he continues, his voice growing more confident, "I'd like to have another kiss, please." He looks at you, his voice cracking slightly and his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Capitano
Capitano drops to his knees, lowering himself until his forehead is pressed against the ground. His arms go limp at his sides, the only movement coming from his shallow breathing.
His eyes snap shut, and he does not dare to open them. "I am yours," he whispers without prompt. His breath is warm against the marble, his words muffled by the floor. The muscles in his legs ache. His head is pressed against the cold stone, but the cold is a comfort. He knows that he deserves to be beneath you. Like no one else.
"You're deserving of a kiss, come here and lets share our first." His eyes fly open, his lips already parted. He stares up at your face, his emotions raging inside of him. His breath is heavy as he swallows. He doesn't dare to ask for permission, but it's written all over his face that he yearns to experience this moment.
He is not allowed to speak up unless it is to obey. His eyes plead. Please, he silently begs.
Capitano stands up and a breath leaves him as your lips press gently against his. You take his first kiss as a matter of course, never bothering to ask if this is what he wanted, because his expression told you enough.
His heart flutters, his cheeks flushed as he pulls your head closer. He kisses you back, his hands holding you close to him. His lips move against yours in sync, his breath coming back to him. It's not even a question. Of course, he's going to kiss you.
He needs to kiss you.
Your lips are soft against his own slightly chapped ones. Capitanos breath catches in his throat, his mind whirling. For a moment, he forgets where he is and why he is here.
It's just him and you.
He holds you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck. He takes in your scent and swallows it down. His heart is thundering in his ears as his fingers dig into your skin.
His heart is racing against his own will. He wants this more than anything in the world. He wants you.
And he has you.
Childe
"You deserve a reward."
His chin tilts upward in hope, his gaze focused on you. "Your Grace is too kind." He doesn't move, and his eyes are fixed on your face. "May I know what reward I might receive? Is it in my power to accept?"
You find that he is almost trembling, and as he looks up at you, his cheeks flutter. "Would you accept a kiss?" His breath catches in his throat, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. His cheeks become a bright red. Childe seems to be on the verge of tears.
"I, um... your kiss... I... yes, Your Grace. I would be honored, but... I'm not sure my lips would be worthy." His voice is breathy, but it sounds sincere. He truly believes this, and it seems he fears that his lips are too rough or too calloused to be worthy of you.
You can only roll your eyes at him again, he's never going change, wil he? So what is left to do was to pull him in out of the sudden and give him his well deserved reward. Childe flinches when you pull him closer, but not because he is resisting you. Rather, it appears that he is completely enraptured by you and your every move. His cheeks are glowing bright, bright pink, and his eyes are fluttering shut.
He melts into you as your lips press firmly against his. His mouth is supple and his lips soft. He kisses you back, eagerly and hungrily. His hands clutch your jacket for support. It seems that you have completely stolen his heart and soul. He gasps when you let go, his eyes fluttering open to find yours. His expression is agape. "Your Grace," he whispers. His breaths are ragged. He touches his lips, like he's trying to feel something after you let go.
He blinks, as if he's still seeing flashes of stars in his vision. His lips are slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes are bright, like sapphires.
"That... was glorious." His voice is a whisper, "Do it again."
Chongyun - aged up
Chongyun is curled against you, his head resting gently against your chest— his breathing is slow and regular, like the beating of a heart, and his limbs are wrapped tightly around you in a hug.
He is relaxed, but he is still intensely aware that you are the only with him right now. His heart races in his chest— having your warmth and comfort and nearness— makes him happy. Chongyun trembles at the contact of your lips against his forehead, and a soft whimper leaves his mouth. He leans forward slightly, pressing his face tighter against your chest. This is all he could ever want. You are the only one that matters.
Chongyun speaks softly, his voice quiet and trembling, "All I want is to be in your arms for all eternity, Your Grace." "I don't mind that..." and to seal the deal, you give him a gentle kiss. Chongyun responds eagerly, letting his lips linger against yours. His entire body trembles and blushes at your touch, and he can feel his lips burn with a fierce fire.
Your lips press against his with a desperate, almost painful tenderness; he wants to give you all that his lips can offer, and for once, he doesn't mind the awkwardness that comes with it. There are no insecurities, only heat, only fire, only you.
All that was missing in his life was your lips, and now, he will never let go.
Cyno
At your command, he does as told. Cyno sits down beside you, not needing any further instruction than that. He sits facing you, so you can see him in all his glory. You are everything to him. And so is he to you, and you're about to show him.
If he had his way, he would never leave your side again. He would stay by your side forever and make sure you would never feel unloved again. Cynos and yours connection is one of a kind after all. And he is deeply aware of your loneliness. His breath hitches in his chest as you take his hand in yours. He looks at you, his eyes gazing up at you with reverence and love that would make the moon itself envious.
His every breath stops in his chest at the contact of your lips against his knuckles. His hand trembles in yours. He leans into the touch, wanting nothing more than to be with you.
He turns his hand so that the inside is facing upward, hoping you will kiss it again. But instead you place his hand against your cheek.
"Cyno...kiss me please." His mind seems to shut off. All that matters is you and your question. He leans forward, and as he does, he lets his hair fall forward to curtain his face from view. Then his lips are soft against yours— a gentle pressure, followed by a light brushing of skin before he pulls away again.
His breath is short, quick. He blinks, seeming shocked that he just did that, but the surprise quickly melts away as he leans in again. His kisses only grow in intensity. He lingers there, his mouth against yours, breath mingling as if he wishes to absorb you, to make you his, before he reluctantly pulls away again.
He whispers something as if it has come from his soul; something only you could ever hear.
 "I love you from my head tomatoes."
"....."
Dainsleif
Dainsleif lowers himself to the ground before you, the very image of respect and devotion. He sits perfectly poised, his hands clasped together neatly in his lap. All the weight of eternity seems to rest upon his shoulders, as if even in this moment he is a protector, a guardian. Despite this, his heart races at your command. He feels alive for the first time in weeks, as if everything he's ever wanted is finally here.
You.
"I missed you Dain..." you pout, "you were gone for weeks." "I'm here now." Dainsleif smiles warmly. "I'm here with you, my everything." His words are sweet as honey on the tongue, but there is no mistaking the passion behind them. "Were you lonely?" He asks. There's a slight note of concern in his voice. Dainsleif could not bear the thought that you suffered even a little because he wasn't by your side constantly.
"Yes!" Dainsleif's smile widens as you race towards him, one hand lifted slightly, as if ready to receive your impact. As soon as you reach an embrace, he wraps both arms around you, pulling you close as if there's nothing else in the world.
Dainsleif doesn't mind the pressure of your grasp. If anything, he seems to welcome it. Your embrace is the sweetest thing he has ever known.
He holds you tight, face buried against your shoulder. His breathing quickens slightly with joy. Your soft lips press against Dainsleif's and for a moment, time itself seems to slow.
This is where he belongs. This is where he was always meant to me. His lips press against yours, and he kisses you passionately, as if it might be his last kiss ever. The world could be ending and all Dainsleif cares about in this moment is you. He melts into your kiss, his breath ragged as if he has been drowning and has finally found air.
He's home.
Diluc
Diluc sits across from you, gazing at you over a candlelit dinner. "Shall I pour some grape juice, Your Grace?" he asks, already reaching for the bottle beside his place setting. He wants you to be comfortable. After all, you deserve only the best.
"Yes please." Diluc pour you the perfect glass. There is no room for error when he is pouring you your grape juice, and the dark ruby liquid pours without so much as a drop spilled. He was to shy to mention that this was created with you in mind..."For our love." His words are more than a toast.
They're a prayer.
He raises his glass again, drinking a little of the red liquid. His eyes are on you, watching closely as you match his sip, then watching the way your throat swallows as you enjoy the drink. You're everything to him.
But one thing is missing, and you can't help but get it for yourself. His heart skips a beat as you lean across the table, his lips parted and breath quickening in anticipation. It's only the two of you at this table. You're his entire world. And all that matters is your love.
The beverage forgotten, his lips find yours, and Diluc's body melts at your touch. He is nothing but love in this moment. "I love you," he whispers as he pulls back.
His forehead rests against your own. "Please— tell me you love me too, Your Grace." He waits for your answer, his heart on his sleeve, open to you.
He wants more than anything to be loved by you in return. He waited his whole life for this moment, please make his dream come further true.
"Of course I love you too silly."
Dottore
His lips curl into a sly smile. "I was certain you would be pleased." Dottores arm drapes over your shoulder as he shifts in his seat, bringing your body closer to him. His fingers run along your hair as he stares into your eyes. "And now I'm here to please you," he whispers. Your stomach flutters at the words, and he seems to realize it, because his eyes light up. His fingers trail down your arms. "I can show you what I mean, if you'd like."
"Please do..." You're breathless, he took the air out of your lungs by just his words alone.
His lips curl and he closes the gap between you. His breath is hot against your face, and it makes your heart beat faster. The tip of his mask caressing your cheek. "I know you wish to be worshipped," he murmures. His red eyes seem to dance in the light. "What I can offer you cannot be described with words," he whispers. He leans down slowly, letting the sensation of his lips on your skin sink in.
"But that doesn't mean I can't show you exactly what I mean." Dottore's eyes flicker as his lips brush yours, lingering just long enough to let the sensation sink in. He kisses you hungrily, his fingers gripping you tighter, as if terrified to let you go. His lips are soft, but he keeps his hold tight. His breaths are quick and shallow.
He pulls away finally, but his mouth is parted slightly and his eyes are still on yours. He seems breathless, eager, completely devoted. And maybe a tiny bit horny too.
"Shall we continue?" He leans in, whisper in your ear, voice raspy, "or was it to handle for my little grace~?" His hand slips under your clothes, brushing against the skin underneath.
Freminet
A shudder runs through Freminet, and he trembles. It seems like he's trying to resist crying, but the painful emotions are overwhelming him. He wants to bury his face in your chest— but he doesn't dare to move. He just stares straight ahead, his breath hitched and his expression so full of pain.
"Please, Your Grace," Freminet finally whispers, breath hitching, fighting back tears. "Please...make it stop. I...I-can't handle it anymore..."
He wants you to do something— but he doesn't know what he wants. He only knows he needs you now, more than anything. Usually in moments like these he would handle it alone deep down in Fontaines waters, but he found other comfort. Freminet shifts as you offer your arms, his eyes locked on yours. He wants to feel the warmth and safety of your embrace, and the only thing that stops him is the fear of disrespecting you or angering you in some way.
His muscles tense, his heart beating faster and his throat catching on every breath. But the feeling of your open arms and your eyes is just too much. Slowly, almost tentatively, he rises, crosses the distance between you and him, and falls into your embrace. Freminet buries his head in your chest, his sobs muffled into your neck. He leans his entire weight against you, needing your warmth and your arms to soothe him.
He clings to you, his muscles tense and trembling. His whole body shakes as he sobs wildly, clinging to you, needing you— needing to feel safe and loved.
"Don't worry, you will have me with you forever." Freminets eyes fly open like a struck deer. He stares at you in the pale light, tears rolling from his eyes. He trembles against your embrace and your words.
The kiss is all it takes for him to melt. He leans into your touch, trembling in your arms. There's a faint flush on his cheeks and he leans into your touch, his body soft and relaxed.
Then Freminet lifts his eyes to yours, his pupils flared. He leans towards you again. His lips are already parted, his eyes burning with emotion. He wants to kiss you again.
You're the only one he trusts 100%.
Gorou
Gorou leans into your touch as his breathing softens; he seems completely and utterly at ease. He closes his eyes as he takes in the sweet embrace, and his mind drifts to thoughts of other things he would like to do with you. Like kiss you
He nuzzles into your lap, content to be held but also eager to please you. His tail wags slightly, he seems at ease withing your presence.
"You must be tired, hm?" You whisper as you gently scratch his ears. "No, my grace. You... You are my energy," Gorou whispers softly, his eyes still closed, his thoughts wandering with curiosity.
"I haven't felt this alive in ages. I don't want to leave you, not yet at least. It may not seem like it, but I'm wide awake."
Gorou opens his eyes and glances up at you as he tries to maintain that aloof expression, but if you look closely enough, perhaps you'll see the slightest of blushes spread across his cheeks. Gorou's eyes widen in surprise at the contact of your devine lips against his, but he doesn't back down. His heart threatens to leave his chest and he smiles into the kiss, his hands coming up to caress your face as he savors this moment of first-time passion. If you could hear the thoughts in his head, you'd hear a silent scream of delight.
This was what he'd been waiting tons of years for, Gorou thinks, his mind racing with excitement as he eagerly returns the kiss, tail wagging excitedly.
Heizou
He leans back into your embrace, pressing himself into you. It's clear how comforting it is for him to be in such close proximity to you, his eyes closed and his chin on your shoulder. He seems utterly content to melt in your arms, his arms wrapped around your waist. He's so small in comparison to you, but so utterly precious. Heizou breathes heavily against your neck, his arms squeezing slightly as he kisses your skin. His fingers dance down the side of your neck and shoulders, his eyes gazing up at you lovingly from where they are tucked against your shoulder.
He continues to kiss you, gently nibbling at your neck as he does so. He seems determined to express as much affection as possible when he's so close to you. Heizou looks up at you softly as he gives you his first kiss; his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His heart is pounding against his chest, adrenaline rushing through his limbs, and the rush of blood to his head makes it all the more difficult for him to concentrate.
His kiss is gentle and tender, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away to breathe some air. He looks up at you with eyes filled with love and adoration, the expression on his face clearly showing how much you mean to him. Heizou stays silent for a moment, his cheeks flushed and his heart still skipping a few beats. He bites his lip and looks away from you nervously.
“…that was my first kiss,” he says softly, as if admitting some sort of personal failure.
After a beat, he looks back at you directly again.
“…I hope you didn’t mind.”
"I'm so glad you trust me enough to share this with me." Heizou's cheeks deepen into a shade of red, if that is even possible. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes staring at you nervously from beneath their lashes.
"Yes... I trust you enough to share it. I'm happy that it was you."
There's another long quiet pause as Heizou gathers his courage and gazes up at you. "…Can we do it again?" he asks.
Itto
He tells you everything.
Your presence makes him chatter endlessly, and he feels more alive when he is in your presence. He speaks about his day, and the antics he has been up to. He talks a lot about his gang members, and how proud he is to be their leader.
He speaks so much that he forgets to breathe and has to take a moment to catch it again. You notice him catching his breath more than once.
In his lap, you can feel his heartbeat. It's faster than usual. "Catch your breath, we don't want you fainting do we?" hes to adorable, acting more like a puppy than a oni sometimes. He tries. He tries to speak more quietly, to pace himself and not speak so fast. But just you sitting in his lap is making him so excited that he can't hold it back.
Your presence is overwhelming him, and he wishes to show you how happy you make him feel. Itto just wants you to know how much pleasure it brings him to be by your side.
Soon enough, he's about to lose his breath again, and you're not going to have it. With one quick motion your lips touch his to make him stop talking completely. There isn't a thought in his head anymore. When you kiss him, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall to the side slightly.
He is at your will, completely. The only feeling that surges within his body is the fire that's burning his cheeks, the heat in the bottom of his stomach, and the quickening of his heart.
No matter how much he wants to do something for you, he is helpless right now. Itto is in a state of utter bliss, and he feels like the weight that has been so heavy inside of him has been lifted.
"Whoa-! That was awesome your Grace! Of course you're gonna kiss the one and oni Arataki Itto hahaha! I have the best lips around, no one can compare to me. And i just kissed you! You just kissed me?! This is grea-"
"Itto shut up-"
Kazuha
Kazuha stares intently at you as you consume your tea, his gaze soft like sunlight in the middle of a dark night. With you, he is content. He seems hesitant to say anything first in fear of disturbing the peace he treasures so deeply. Instead, he sips his tea, glancing at you every now and then while keeping his body pointed away from your gaze.
It seems he's simply too embarrassed to look upon you directly, as if your beauty would blind him the moment your eyes meet.
"You know my taste Kazuha. Thank you for gifting me this tea." "Anything for you, Your Grace." The words are spoken so softly that it almost seems like a whisper.
Kazuha's eyes trail around the room but always seem to come back to you. He still seems to have trouble meeting your gaze, but it's undeniable that he's relaxed in your presence. He takes another sip of tea, nodding. "Anything else you need?"
"A kiss...Kazuha you have been gone for several weeks and I...I missed you." The tea seems to catch in Kazuha's throat as he glances at you. He almost flinches away from you, as if you've caught him red-handed. In reality, there is nothing he could be hiding. He is yours and only yours. His cheeks flare from pink to red, but he doesn't look away. He stares at you, almost hungrily.
"Your Grace..." His voice seems to catch in his throat and his body suddenly tenses up.
"May I...? May I please kiss you?"
You nod. Before you can say anything else, Kazuha leans in, meeting your lips almost desperately as he presses his body against yours. He seems hungry for your touch, as if he hasn't been able to eat in days; starved. At once, all tension and shyness melts away as Kazuha simply holds you close, his mouth moving like a hungry beast's. 
His every move seems to be like that of a man famished and his lips against yours are like a man dying of thirst. He seems almost desperate in his need to prove your love to you. As you moan, he seems to become more energized. His lips move faster against yours. The force behind his kisses almost makes you worry he'll suck away your soul.
He whispers softly in between kisses, "Yours..."
Kaeya
The wound isn't major, but it bleeds enough to warrant attention. Kaeya watches in fascination as you patch the mark, his breath shallow. It's easy to tell how much he craves this attention from you.
"Thank you, Your Grace," he murmurs. He's not quite looking at you, but his eyes can't help but trace your lips as you tend to the wound. God how needy he is. Kaeya glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours. He can't help the feeling that he's trying to memorize your features: the lines in your face, the subtle pinkish hue on the skin of your lips, the dark lashes that grace your eyes. You're so close, close enough to kiss. He's not sure he can keep his eyes on you, but it's too much of an effort to look away.
"You should be more careful next time. You can't always run into danger like this...You worry me..." Kaeya only smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. He knows he needs to be more cautious. He'll be more cautious.
"Next time," he mutters. "I will be more careful...Your Grace." He leans forward, making sure his promise reaches every fiber in your body. You have to believe him now.
Kaeya's kisses aren't quick. He lingers, making sure you're aware of his affection. You can feel his care in each touch, the way his fingers grip you as he kisses back. His desire for you is apparent, and the ferocity of his kisses only proves it. Time stops when you pull back. Kaeya's breathing is shaky, a smile lingering on his lips. He almost wishes you'd never stopped.
"I..." Kaeya trails off. He almost wonders if it's appropriate to say what he means to say, as it feels out of place somehow.
"Your Grace," he says softly, trying to hide the catch in his throat, "I love you."
The words feel like a foreign language coming from his mouth, but at the same time, it's something Kaeya has wanted to say since you first met.
"Oh, i know."
"Oh...."
Kaveh
"It's outstanding! The new room for studying in the library is...amazing. my words fail me!" "Really?" Kaveh brightens upon hearing this, and his heart skips a beat.
"Thank you, your Grace," he replies softly. He had worked very hard on that piece and he's delighted that you have noticed the effort he has put into it. "I just wanted to do a little different, i wasn't sure if everybody would like it but you and Nahida really helped my confidence..."
He smiles and looks up at you. "You deserve a reward!" Kaveh's breath catches in his throat at your words. All of his worries vanish the second that you mention a reward; he looks up at you eagerly, his gaze focused on you as if he were expecting magic.
"A reward?" he asks softly. "I—"
His breath grows deeper and his heart pounds faster at your promise of reward. A gift from you would be far more than he ever deserves, yet he would cherish it for all time.
"Come closer and get it~" kaveh complies instantly, scooting closer to you as he looks at you expectantly. His eyes are wide and fixed on you as his breathing grows louder. Whatever you're about to give him, he's excited for it. Kaveh's breath catches in his throat as you move your hand over to stroke his cheek, and he freezes. His lips part slightly as his breath deepens, but still he manages to hold back.
You give him a gentle, romantic kiss on the lips, and Kaveh feels the heavens shift. His whole life, all of his experience, every moment, and every emotion has built up to this moment. His heart hammers against his chest, his entire being is set aflame. The taste of your lips on his is a drug, one that he is now addicted to.
"Was the reward to your enjoyment?" What a stupid question, of course it was for him. You just like to tease. Kaveh's head spins for a moment, as he's left breathless by your kiss. He manages to blink several times, blinking away the tears in his eyes, and nods frantically.
"Y-Yes, your Grace. It was wonderful."
He licks his lips and gazes at you intently, his expression one of longing and adoration.
"I would like more rewards, please."
Lyney
"Aha! I see you're impressed, your Grace~" Lyney says cheerily. "You may be powerful, but I still have my tricks...tricks that might put a smile on your face. Would you like to see another?"
Lyney smiles cheerfully at you, "I hope the public will enjoy those tricks as much as you."
"Well... I'm nothing if not a showman. But before that, I should inform you; this magic trick of mine is a little... flashy," Lyney says with a bashful blush. "Would you still like to see it?"
He looks up at you eagerly, his tone a mix of anticipation and worry. He can tell you have no idea what's coming.
"Yes!" Before you can register what happened he dissappeared, you look around, he's nowhere to be seen. And then out of the sudden, poof! There he is beside you, giving you a gentle kiss. You're startled at first, but you quickly lean into the kiss, your cheeks growing hotter and your heart begin racing as you feel the soft weight of his lips against yours. The feeling sends your mind spinning, and even the tiniest sensation of Lyney's breath upon your cheek is enough to set your head spinning.
You lean back slightly from the kiss, a soft smile teasing the edges of your lips. "Lyney— you little scamp," you say in the tiniest, most adorable tone. "Was that really necessary?" He laughs lightly. "Absolutely."
You smile sweetly at him. "It was a lovely kiss, I must admit," you say with a small blush, still smiling at Lyney as he looks down at you with twinkling eyes. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lyney replies with a small smile, still glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he fluffs up his feathers.
"Would you like to see another one of my tricks?" He asks, his tone playful.
Mika - aged up
"No need to be nervous, Mika" you giggle
Mika can't suppress a tiny, nervous laugh as he tries to relax in your presence. He's never been more self-conscious in his life, but he's willing to endure that if it means satisfying you.
Oh dear...they way they giggle...if they keep doing this i--might even blush.
His gaze flickers to your hand on his cheek. He considers nuzzling against you, before thinking better of it. He'd risk humiliating himself by doing something so bold— but if you were to touch him again, or even just look at him, he knows his composure would break and he'd become a trembling, needy mess.
"You're my favorite..." Your words strike him with a sharp impact. He freezes, his heart racing. In a breathless, raspy voice, Mika whispers, "Really, Your Grace?"
Your approval causes the tension to melt away from his face; it's now clear how much your words have affected him. "I don't deserve to be your favorite," he says, his voice shaking.
"I'm...nobody's favorite."
"But you're my favorite..." you lean in slowly, you don't want to startle him after all. He stares, frozen in place, as the realization of your intentions hits him. He's never kissed someone before— but he wants to kiss you. He has always wanted to kiss you.
His heart thunders in his chest as you bring your face closer, and his face glows bright. The world spins and time slows down, and suddenly the only thing that exists is the two of you, alone in a bubble of intimacy and trust.
As your faces meet, he hesitates. It's terrifying, but he wants it just as much as you do. He closes his eyes, and leans in. He touches his mouth to yours in a tender, careful kiss. His lips are soft and yielding, and he leans closer, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He kisses you again, the sensation of your lips making his head spin and his body tremble.
He can feel you smiling, almost laughing, in the way you kiss back. It feels like an intimate secret between the two of you— and in that moment, all he knows and wants is you.
He draws away, breathless and trembling.
He's your favorite...
Neuvillette
"You look tired..." "O-Oh, it's nothing serious, Your Gr-" Neuvilette's sentence is cut off. He glances up at your face. "Your Grace... I haven't slept in six days."
"SIX DAYS?" You can't help to be concerned for his health, his organs. Simply everything. Neuvillette flushes deeper, almost red enough to be mistaken for a tomato. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I've hardly slept lately. You see, there has been much work to be done and-- I just, a-anyways, it's nothing to worry about. I'm not tired. Truly."
Yet, his eyelids seem heavy. There's almost a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Come here and take a nap, now!" "Y-Your Grace. I'm-" Before he can continue on, Neuvillette leans forward and presses his forehead against your chest. There's a moment of silence; only the rise and fall of your breaths breaking the stillness. His eyes are closed.
He seems so tired now. "Your Grace..." he whispers, already beginning to drift off. Neuvilette's eyelashes flutter over his shut eyes as he's kissed. For a second, he is confused at first, not quite knowing what happened to him. He would never admit it, not to himself, but something about your touch stirs his heart. His lips purse as if to let out some sort of soft noise, but it doesn't leave him; a single sigh escaping instead.
It seems he too enjoys your touch. He is not a stone. Neuvilette's lashes flicker over his eyes once more before he finally slips into a deep slumber.
(I am not proud of this one---)
Pantalone
"Oh....this coat...so beautiful! Thank you so much!" "I was worried… you might not like it. I did so much research, looking for the perfect fabric, to make sure the fit was perfect," he rushes to explain. He has been worrying all day; your smile, hearing your satisfaction with his gift is the greatest thing in the world. Its so unlike him but he's proud
"I'm glad you like it. It costed me a million Mora but it was worth it." A smile breaks out across his face, as if the sun itself has risen before him. Pantalone holds back a smile. This is a moment he has been waiting for. You put the coat on. You look absolutely stunning. The coat compliments your figure, your frame, and makes your complexion look radiant.
You don't even notice the heat that comes to Pantalone's face. All he can do is take it in; you're perfect. Absolutely perfect. "I have to say," Pantalone's voice is soft, almost reverent.
"You look absolutely stunning." He reaches out and caresses the fabric of the coat, as if he is unable to keep from touching you in some way at all times. "It was a perfect choice." He leans in closer, unable to contain himself. "I'm really proud of myself."
Pantalone's lips meet yours. His heartbeat comes to life, quickening with desire. He wants to be closer, to never let himself leave your side. He wants to touch you again and never let go. And spoil you, how you deserve it. His hands caress your cheek. Your hair. Your neck. Your shoulder blades. He tries to be tender, to be gentle, to savor every moment; but he wants so much more than a simple kiss.
His hands trail down, running over your back, your curves; finally, his palms grip your hips. He pulls you closer, wanting nothing more than to be pressed against you. The whole world disappears. All that exist are the two of you, the way you fit together. The way you want, so desperately, to be one.
"I'll bring you new jewelry next time if i get kisses like this again." He chuckles.
Pierro
He kisses your hands, the feeling of your skin against his own almost breaking Pierro's composure. Only the fact that you are here, alive and well and in his presence stops him from melting into a puddle at your feet.
He's been waiting for this. You're everything to him. "Your Grace." He whispers again, not caring if anyone should come into the room. He kisses up your arm, his lips warm against your skin. The act feels sacred, divine. You don't know if you'll ever be touched like this again for as long as you live.
"Your Grace," Pierro whispers again, voice breaking. He tries to compose himself, but he can't. The emotion of the moment feels too real, too raw.
He's waited for this moment for so long, never quite daring to believe that it might happen, and yet...here you are. You're here.
"May I please...kiss your lips." "Yes..." Pierro needs no further encouragement.
His face is close to yours; the heat of his breath is enough to send shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body, pulling you close as his lips meet yours. The feeling is heady, almost overpowering, and it's as if he's holding his breath as he waits to see if you will pull away or push him away.
But you don't.
Pierro pulls back, only to kiss you again. He's kissing every inch of you— your eyes, your cheeks, your neck, your collarbone.
Eventually, you find yourself pressed against a wall. His body is so close, he's pressing against you. Not hard or with any aggression. He's just close enough to feel your body against his, and to feel your skin breathe with each passing moment.
Pierro's hands are on your neck, touching you just enough that every part of him craves to be closer.
"Y/n...."
Razor - aged up
Razor's cheeks tinge pink at the realization that's he's still never actually... kissed anyone before. Damn Bennett for asking if he had ever kissed someone. The fact that his first kiss will be with the person he's been in love with all this time is simultaneously daunting and sweet, he thinks to himself.
Razor nervously leans forward slightly, his lips parted. He hesitates. Razor can do it. Just like lupical Bennett explained.
Slowly, he starts to lower his head towards yours, his eyes still trained on yours. His heart is pounding in his chest, his cheeks still bright pink as he prepares to finally touch your lips for the first time. After countless hours of practicing in head, it's finally actually happening.
Your breath hits Razor's face, warming it as if he had been cold for centuries. *Now... or never.* In a flash, Razor closes the distance between you and him. His lips softly touch yours, the gentle brush against yours making him feel weak at the knees. The sensation of touch... your taste... your very being… are completely new to Razor, he never had the chance to experience such things. It's completely, and utterly, intoxicating.
He keeps the kiss going ever so slightly longer than he’d thought he would, his eyes eventually fluttering shut and his hands slowly raising to hold your face, his touch becoming softer than ever. Razor doesn't let you answer, instead immediately leaning down towards your neck for a series of rapid, soft kisses. This time, he doesn't stop until he has to take a breath for himself. He looks at you, breathless, then looks down at his hands, as he caresses your cheek.
"Do you think....we can do it again?" he asks hesitantly, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "Razor really....really liked it, your Grace."
Scaramouche
He leans in, inching closer toward you. You can see the muscles in his arm tensing as if pushing him forward. You can see the way he bites his lip and averts his gaze, the way he hesitates but is unable to break away.
Then, all at once, he is close. Too close.
He can't feel anything but your breath on him— only your warmth against his throat.
He can't feel his own breath, but he's sure yours has left him utterly breathless. Scaramouche's lips brush against yours. They linger there for a second, for two, but that's all you need before his lips have sealed with yours. He tries to resist but is unable. His tongue meets yours, and you know you are his first kiss. He's clumsy, but so are you.
You're both a mess. His fingers grasp the fabric of your robes, squeezing hard as if to keep himself there. He can't stop himself; he can't stop his eyes from fluttering shut or his lips from parting slightly in a soft sigh. His lips against yours feel as though they belong there. His tongue against yours feels like the greatest thing. The way his body presses up against yours; the way his hands wrap around the small of your back; the way his eyes open and gaze into yours with such intensity— how could this ever be wrong?
His lips finally part and he pulls away. He gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed and his hair in disarray.
And now *you* don't know what to do. Scaramouche looks as if he's a few steps off fainting.
"Fuck....You're mine now, got it? Mine."
Thoma
He was unaware— or maybe, he just didn't care— how exhausted he actually was. Maybe he'd been like that for quite some time without realizing it. In his exhaustion, he didn't even try to sit up, and instead, he only leans back even more. It's comfortable...in an odd way. He doesn't know why you'd worry about him, but he can't find a reason to argue back against your judgement.
"Okay," he whispers. Your touch is welcome, and so he does nothing to stop you. He closes his eyes as your fingers move through his hair, and as you sit next to him, he even leans slightly against you. He isn't a particularly heavy man, for his muscles are mostly show and not all that practical.
Even in this position, he looks so weak to the point that you could snap him in half like a toothpick. But he doesn't care; right now, he has no care for his pride — just you. And for once, he even doesn't care about any work.
"Now, sleep ok?" You give him a good nights kiss so he can finally take his well deserved rest. He relaxes entirely, his mouth hanging open as his eyelids grow heavy and he slumps against you. And, if he had had any energy left, he would have blushed furiously at how forward you were in the kiss.
As you say, he rests. He does not fight sleep, despite how unusual it was to just... lay down like this. But if it meant to be closer to you, he would do anything like this again and again.
He remains like this, his body limp, head on your shoulder but his fingers grasping at your lap. And dreaming of more kisses.
Tighnari
Tighnari's eyes flutter shut. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, tail swishing back and forth as you stroke his ears. His face is a mask of utter relaxation and peace. His words sound like they're being spoken through honeyed syrup when he says "Do that again, please."
Tighnari's eyes stay shut as you pet his ears again. He sighs loudly and leans into you, his ears pressing into your hand. "Good boy." You giggle as you give him a soft kiss in return.
A deep blush covers Tighnari's face. His tail waves faster as your lips touch him. He's clearly loving every moment, and he can't bring himself to break the contact.After a moment, Tighnari's lips part and his voice leaves his throat. "Your Grace… I think I love you."
His eyes are still closed, but he's blushing madly. He doesn't know what that means, but if all these intense feelings and emotions are what love is then he wants you to know, and quickly. After all, this confession means eternal love.
"I love you too." "I love you… more than I could ever describe," he whispers, leaning closer, lips brushing gently across yours. "I love you with every breath I take. I love you with every thought in my mind. I would love you with my last, dying breath. I love you, with all that I am." His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, nor does he ever let his hands leave your body. His every word is a vow of loyalty, a love poem, the purest expression of devotion and adoration.
He is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, and he is yours alone.
Venti
"You wrote a song for me?" The smile is almost too much for Venti to contain. "Yes... yes I did, your Grace," he whispers, his tone so quiet that any other voice would have called it inaudible. "I-if you don't like it, y-you can say so," Venti says, his voice quieter than ever. He can't quite bring himself to meet your eyes as he extends a folded sheet of paper to you.
"I could never not like anything you give me." Venti's expression grows even more precious as you tell him the sweet, sweet words he's always been dying to hear, so much that he can barely keep himself upright as he offers the paper to you. His hand is shaking; the song, he worries, might be too basic, too ordinary..."Here, your Grace," he offers to you, with all of his adoration and respect in a single gentle gesture. "Please... please read it, for me?"
You will, you take the paper carefully and read it with pure excitement. "Oh Venti..." You're struck, struck by his words. You know Venti has his way with words but this...The wind god's eyes grow wide at your words. You make him feel more seen, more known, even than the world he has known for millennia! He smiles softly, a gesture that you can almost swear brings the whole world light with its beauty.
"Your Grace? You like it?" he whispers, almost afraid to hear your answer. "Like? I LOVE IT!" Venti lets out a soft gasp as you grab him in your embrace. You let the sheet slide out of your hands and clatter to the ground as he throws his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder as he kisses you back.
He clutches you tightly, holding onto you like you're the only person in the entire world— the only person whose approval— whose affection— means anything. It's hard to keep himself quiet; he wants to let out all those centuries of held back emotion in some sort of yell or scream, but he keeps quiet for you.
Venti kisses you back again and again, and the moment your lips finally break apart, he clings on more tightly, burying his face into your shoulder.
"You truly like it?" he whispers. "It took me so long to write it— I did it just for you— I made it so that you could feel what I feel for you. I wanted you to know me as I know you. I don't want to be a mystery to you. I want you to know me. I want you to be a part of me.... I want you to be the world to me and the air I breathe."
Wriothesley
"Were you ever kissed before?" Surely he has been, look at him. You were so sure of it. But no. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink. "No, Your Grace," he says, but he looks away instead of meeting your eyes. The faint scent of cherry blossoms wafts about him as he looks at you for a moment, and then looks away.
"I've never... I've never had a reason." He mumbles, as if trying to justify it to himself and not you. "No one could compare to you." Wriothesley's voice is quiet, but his words are a declaration of his obsession. Before you can answer, he says, "Oh, Your Grace..." His voice is breathless, almost a murmur. Then he looks at you— and suddenly, he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His lips are soft and warm, pressed against you with no reservations, no hesitation. His entire body is leaning against yours, as if he wants you to know that he is devoted to you, and you alone.
His lips are still pressed against your own, and his eyes are closed. Wriothesley's fingers curl in your hair as he kisses you hungrily, greedily, as though it is something that he has always wanted. His lips move quickly, passionately, and his breathing grows more frantic as his body is pressed against yours. His passion seems to burn, as though the temperature in the room has suddenly increased. He is completely lost in you, forgetting the world of Teyvat.
"That came...unexpected." His lips move away from yours, and he opens his eyes, slowly. He's close enough to your eyes that they're practically touching, and yours are open too. He blinks, and it seems to finally dawn on him that he's probably just kissed you. His face flashes bright pink once more.
"Oh." He says, and then quickly leans back. His cheeks are flushed. "Apologies. Your Grace."
"....nah you're good, keep going."
Xiao
"You are deserving." Xiao's heart swells with appreciation and awe. His chest is a tight-knotted ball, writhing with emotion at your praise. He nods, feeling unworthy. In his heart, he knows that he isn't, but his humility runs so deep that he simply can't believe that he's deserving of the love you offer him.
"A-am I, Your Grace?" he whispers, tears pooling in his eyes. This isn't the response he expected, and the weight of it fills him with gratitude. "Yes." The single, one syllable response is enough to move Xiao to tears. He nods, blinking back his tears. He raises his gaze, and his heart thumps in his ears as his eyes focus on you. He struggles to swallow his pride and speaks, his voice hoarse.
"Thank you," he whispers, "thank you so much for choosing me." "I will always choose you, no matter what." "You will...?" The words leave Xiao breathless. His heart fluttering in sync with the sound of the wind fluttering in the trees outside. "Y-you're..."
He blinks away the tears filling his eyes, staring at you like a deer at headlights. A million words are caught on the tip of his tongue, but he hasn't the courage to speak them. Instead, he nods. "I will always choose you too, Your Grace. I will always be yours." His eyes flicker to meet yours, for only a moment, then avert. Xiao's eyes go wide with disbelief, his breath catching in his throat as he registers the kiss. His face turns red, and his heart beats against his chest with such force that he feels his head throbbing with each strike.
The kiss lasts only a moment, but his mind is filled with an electric thrill. He can still feel the heat and tingle of your lips, and even as you pull away, his brain is filled with your taste on his tongue.
"Was I deserving of that, Your Grace...?" he whispers, breathless.
"...we need to work on it, yes, yes you were."
Xingqiu - aged up
"I see you brought me a new book!" "Ah..." Xinqiu nods as he turns his head back towards you. In his arms is a book bound in ivory leather. "I thought you might enjoy it, Your Grace...It's name is 'A song for the dead'."
"I... thought its stories would suit your interests."  Xingqiu's voice is soft, though clearly nervous. Nervous he might picked the wrong one. "I thought its stories of betrayal, and vengeance would captivate you. That is all, Your Grace."
Xinqiu is careful with his language; speaking slowly and deliberately. Despite his efforts, it's clear that he is anxious and eager to see how you receive the gift. "Thank you." And you thank him with a gentle kiss. The sound of Xinqiu's breath catching in his throat. He is stunned by the gentle kiss, completely unprepared to offer any sort of response. After a moment, he leans into the kiss.
He does not press himself onto you, but allows you to dictate the movements. In his mind, he thinks, You deserve someone greater than him; it's only natural that hed seek to please you. He offers no resistance to your will. Xingqius eyes close as he seems to sink deeper into the feeling. He has had these fantasies, but always dismissed them as impossible.
He does not dare say as much, instead his breathing becoming deep and steady. His eyes remain closed. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, his voice soft and hushed. "Your Grace..." "Yes?"
"I..." Xingqiu difficulty finding the right words. His eyes open, though they don't meet yours. He seems to be searching for the right thing to say but only ends up stuttering. "... Your Grace... I... I would ask you to accept my vows as your loyal devotee. I would ask that you'd allow me to be by your side, until the day you tire of my company and wish to be rid of it. I would ask that you would allow me to serve you, and fight for you. To honor you and your word..."
Zhongli
Zhongli stops short once he hears your words. For a moment, he seems not to understand their significance towards him. Once he does manage to decipher the meaning, however, his heart flutters in his chest.
"You... You love me?" There. The words hang between you both, as though they could be blown away with the slightest gust of wind.
Zhongli is frozen for a moment, almost afraid to breathe for risk of shattering the quiet. But yet... even though he's petrified, he doesn't seem to wish for it to end.
"With every fiber of my body." A light breeze passes through the courtyards, almost like the flutter of an angel's wing. Zhongli takes it a sign for him to follow his impulses, to throw caution to the wind.
In a singular instant, he leans forward, his hands clasping your face. His thumb caresses your soft lips as though tracing a holy scripture. Zhongli has waited six-thousand years to feel this moment. The moment that would change everything. He leans in and presses a light kiss to your warm, pink lips. "I love you...I..." Zhongli's words are cut off as he leans in, his lips pressing against yours.
His heart threatens to burst out of his chest. His mind is swirling with a thousand thoughts. The moment lasts only a second but feels like time itself has come to halt. Even as he breathes, it feels like every air his lungs take is sacred... as if this could be his last moment before his final curtain.
Zhongli clings to the kiss as if it's the only thing keeping him in this world. As if he could disappear without your words, your touch. Zhongli kisses you once more with just as much passion as before. He doesn't want to let go, yet you both need to breathe. Once you pull apart, his hands remain on your neck, gripping your skin as if he will never let go.
Zhongli is unable to speak. His vision is swimming with tears of joy, yet his breath is shallow and his heart fluttering.
"I love you," he whispers, his voice so soft that you must lean in simply to hear it.
"I love you too."
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@junejunejun
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st4rshang0ut · 5 months
Text
HEAR ME OUT.
Genshin SAGAU au, right?
Okay. So reader gets isekaied into Genshin Impact. And everyone is crawling at their feet.
At thier divine one’s beck and call, everyone, Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine, they all love you!
But wait.
Why is there another mortal?
Why do they have such similar hair to you? Why is their mannerisms so… similar to you? They must be an imposter!
But when the Archons bring the trembling and terrified imposter before you, asking thou heavenly one on how to kill them, you raise your hands and stop them.
Stepping forward, you brush away the stray hair out of the imposter’s face. Your eyes sparkle upon seeing them. Such beauty… so perfect. Their eyes, their cute nose, and their bewildered yet frightened expression.
They. Were. Perfect.
And from that day on, wait, the Archons, what about them? Why are they so mad? Oh, it’s because you, my dear reader, are too busy on the person everyone was calling an imposter!
You loved the so called imposter, how could you not? Sure, your acolytes were harsh with them, making them scared and wary of you at first. But slowly, you two slowly opened up, and now, both you and the ‘imposter’ are a couple!
Who cares about having Teyvat at your feet? They could all be against you, and you wouldn’t care. You had your love by your side, how could you not?
And the best part? The so called imposter was isekaied randomly as well! They had no intentions of being a ‘divine’, yet, because you arrived first, everyone thought they were an imposter and treated them like a prisoner.
How patheticcute. They all love you, adore you, worship you, they would kill for you, and yet? You focus barely on them. You love your precious ‘imposter’ to death.
Wait, what do you mean Zhongli’s trying to poison the imposter?
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