☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed
{☆} characters tsaritsa
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings blood, violence
{☆} word count 0.8k
You are dying.
Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.
It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.
You will die.
"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."
A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.
"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."
They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.
"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."
Silence.
You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.
It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.
In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.
They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.
And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.
And alone, the cold remains.
Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.
But the cold remains, bathed in gold.
It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.
It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.
Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.
But you are yourself.
And you are where you belong.
They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.
All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.
One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.
Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.
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Since I see a lot of reactions on articles/quotes from the Loki crew and cast, here are some general reminders when it comes to stuff like this;
There are so many people working on a show/movie and everyone make decisions creating the final product we watch. Of course they do a lot of work to unite their visions and make it cohesive, but "contradictions" may still happen. We often talk about the obvious people behind a show, the actors, writers and directors, but there are also costume designers, composers and editors, etc. All of these people can have different perspectives and pull things in different directions, that just sort of comes with the nature of making such a big show.
And then it comes to producing a show itself. Productions are messy. Things get reworked on the spot because what might've worked on the page didn't work in practice, props break and need to be changed, actors can't be in for the day, etc. All of these affect the final products in chaotic ways. Sometimes unpredictable things like this may get in the way of or improve the story.
And finally articles/interviews purpose is to provide this one specific person's perspective and promote the show, or engage fans.
So take these things with a grain of salt. You don't need to base your entire view on the show on statements from cast/crew. Is the line less meaningful because it was improvised? Should we consider an episode to be less canon because it was apparently rewritten a lot from its original state?
Your fan experience will likely be healthier and more fun if you try to mainly engage with the art you have in front of you. If you read quotes from creators and feel frustrated that they are inconsistent with the art - first of all, art is subjective, it just comes with the territory. But my main point of the post is that even if a person is working on the show, it doesn't mean that their view is 100% represented within the text. You don't need to go full Death of the Author here, but you gotta remember there isn't just one author and that author's intent at work here, there is a production, with all that comes with it. And honestly? That's what makes it interesting. All of these visions coming together to create art that we get to take part in, and whatever vision we're getting as a viewer might be something completely unique.
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stoner!kiri who cant help but hold you close in his lap during the sesh n dry hump you with a hand down your pants fingering u as you hold the blunt.. opened mouth kisses on the juncture between ur shoulder and neck, all sorts of praises coming from his mouth.. wah :(
idk stoner!kiri smelling like adidas colgne and weed n a little bit of musk.. wahh i want him to destroy me :(
Sorry to diverge from the sexy, I’m just so 😖 at the thought of like… Kiri getting off of patrol the night before a few days off, and like… getting home, immediately getting high and then falling asleep on the couch (cuz he’s too lazy to shower and you probs wouldn’t want him in bed)… and waking up groggy, smelling all musky and manly and weedy and wondering why you keep trying to hug him LMAOOO.
I’d be all up on him trying to get a whiff, even if I’d still be calling him stinky the whole time hfndjfjdjvh. Also Kiri w/ big weed brain fog for the first hour after he wakes up… rhsmfjkfjckfk scratching his head and just following you around trying to get you in the shower with him… *zim voice* I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED🤲🏻
But also YESSSDDD to the sexy… He’s kinda like this anyway (thank you T), a very casual toucher… but when he’s stoned, his hand is going straight into your panties whether the attention is meant to be on you or not. All heavy breathing and spacey hickeys that bruise kinda badly cuz he’s not paying attention… not letting you move until you’ve cum three, four times and are begging (hyper aware of safe words though, he’s a hero Through and Through)…
Yeah. I’d sleep good after that, too.
(Bakugo always gets on his case abt wasting weed cuz he has a bad habit of not putting anything out before kissing you LMAOOO)
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