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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

#genshin impact #sagau #self aware au #self aware genshin #neuvillette #the tsaritsa #fatui harbringers #fatui #cult au #slight yandere #I am too lazy to proofread it right now sorry for any mistakes #this was just some random idea tbh #the creator reader has no idea they are the creator they just wana tinker with clockworks #neuvilette genshin #when will we get more Tsaritsa lore mihoyo plz-#would you guys think that Pantalone would buy out the whole stock whenever it is his turn to visit?

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pinkie-pop · 2 months

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"I Have Something To Tell You."

Part I Part II Part III

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Yandere Genshn Impact, non religious SAGAU, Yandere Fatui Harbingers

Word count: 3.1k

Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, description of injury,

Synopsis: After killing yourself and landing in the world of Genshin Impact, you reflect on all that has gone wrong.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You don't really want to go home. Not exactly. But it's easier to say you miss your bed than to say you'd be fine with any bed, so long as it isn't the one in your wing.

You thought people who get isekaied into new worlds were supposed to be happy. You've always been unlucky, you suppose. That's right. It's easier to say you were unlucky than to face the reality of the situation: that this was all your own fault.

You should have sucked it up. Should have gone to counseling or stayed at a hospital. Should have done something else. Should have done anything else.

You should never have killed yourself.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It all started maybe a week ago. You've always been depressed. Never passionate about anything other than your video games, never smiling at anything other than a shiny new character or banner weapon, but it had never been this bad before. For all the talk, you had never actually wanted to die.

But then something changed. You aren't quite sure what it was that set you off. Maybe a particularly bad day at work, a side effect from an experimental medication you're on, or nothing at all. Regardless, something changed, and it changed fast. Soon, death became all you could think about. It plagued your mind both night and day until, at last, you slit your wrists in the bathtub, and when that didn't work, and you woke up again, you climbed up your local water tower and jumped off.

But it didn't matter. You woke up again. Looking different, but still undeniably you. Your face and voice had changed, but the same two scars still sit mockingly upon your wrists. You can't say you're prettier now, just different. Weren't the protagonists of transmigration stories meant to wake up in beautiful bodies, completely unlike their originals? So why was it that your hair and eyes remained the same, that only your face and body had differed?

“Your body,” Dottore explained, “was completely destroyed during your fall. So it reconstructed itself, leaving you a little different, a little the same. That's why,” he said, tapping your wrists,”—that these are still here.” Any other scars you have had disappeared from your body, any blemishes vanished, though the two on your wrists remained. It left you looking smooth and unfinished, a pale imitation of who you once were. Like someone who had only seen you a couple of times tried to draw you from memory. Dottore told you it was because you were attached to them. That the scars shaped your soul, hence their survival. You didn't quite understand, if you're being honest, but he seemed to know what he was talking about, so you didn't bother to question it.

When you woke up again after death, the first thing you noticed was how cold it was. The chill wind was bitter against your white nightwear, the breeze penetrating through the thin fabric as easily as a needle piercing one's skin. The cold seemed to seep into you, lodging itself deep inside your bones.

It was snowing, you realized dimly. That's odd. It hardly ever snowed anymore. The thought that you ought to have been dead by now hadn't yet occured to you, only the thought of cold and bitter winter days lingered in your mind. You thought of school being dismissed due to snow in your youth, of playing and building snowmen as a child. You recalled how the snow eventually stopped coming in winters, due to the Earth’s gradual heating. When it did come, it was a sad and pathetic thing, only a few inches total, melting as soon as it hit the ground.

You thought long and deeply, in an odd, serene state of mind despite, or perhaps because of the polar cold. You aren't quite sure how long you stayed there, reminiscing, but it must have been quite a while, seeing as how your fingers and toes turned black, contrasting starkly against the snow.

It was Tartaglia who found you first, buried knee-deep in snow, strangely calm despite the way your fingertips are blackened by the cold. Of course, you were calm. You were supposed to be dead anyway.

“You okay there, comrade?” He asked you, waving a hand in front of your face. You blinked at him slowly but otherwise didn't respond. You were so still that he would have thought you dead if not for the soft rising and falling of your chest. Tartaglia attributed your inaction to shock—a symptom he's seen plenty of during his time as a Fatuus. Seeing as how you seemed unable (or perhaps unwilling) to move, he simply picked you up and dragged you back to the Zapolyarny Palace, where you were able to warm up and get treatment.

In normal circumstances, your arms and legs would have had to be amputated, but your circumstances were far from normal.

Dottore was the one who had saved your limbs (Your legs, having been buried in the snow for hours, were beyond saving, but your fingers and hands were able to recover). For that, you were grateful. He’s a creep, sure, but sentiments of debt made you tolerate his odd rambles about medical malpractice. Made you politely ignore the way his hands seemed to linger and stray.

After all, if he could save your limbs from certain death, he could most certainly remove them with just as much ease, too.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The mirror in your quarters is broken.

You punched it when you first saw yourself reflected in its panes and refused to get a replacement, despite the many urgings of Pantalone to let him buy you one. Simply having your mirror broken was not enough to completely block out your new reflection, so you requested a can of blackout paint to be brought over to your room, where you then did a—in hindsight—rather shoddy job of enshrouding the reflective surface. It looked bad, but you didn't care.

All you cared about was never seeing the face that you hesitate to call yours ever again.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You aren't quite sure why Tartaglia brought you back to the Palace when it would have been much easier to leave you in the snow. You asked him about it once, but his response was less than satisfactory.

“You could say I fell in love with you at first sight,” he said, ruffling your hair. Because what could be more charming than a frostbitten civilian in white nightwear that camouflages them in the snow?

You decided then and there to ignore any questions you had about the Harbingers’ growing attachment to you. You didn't need to know why they felt the way they did. Only that they did.

Only that they do.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You were given a luxurious room at the Palace, far nicer than even the best of five-star resorts you could never afford. You even had your own personal maid, a brawny woman named Lera (an aptly chosen name, considering it means strength). She had her own helpers that also attended to you, three girls named Ana, Ulyana, and Irina (Ana and Ulyana are twins belonging to two rather uncreative parents, and Irina is an only child). Ana and Ulyana seem to be around your age, Irina a few years younger, and Lera about two decades older. Having the four of them around makes you feel as if you've been transmigrated into a romance fantasy novel.

When Tartaglia brought you to the Zapolyarny Palace, it caused a small ripple of chaos in its wake. The halls were filled with whispers about the strange person who seemed to have captured the heart of the eleventh Harbinger. Even more shocking than that, however, was the second’s agreement to heal you. There were many rumors going about, talk of backroom deals that must have been done to get Dottore to agree to save your arms, but no proof of such things were ever found. Some brave souls claimed that Dottore had also fallen for you and that that was why he had agreed to help. These people were hushed by their friends rather quickly, for fear of their own lives.

Stranger still was the seventh’s involvement in your recovery. Sandrone, though you're not sure how she heard about it or why she had decided to help, had created a pair of porcelain legs for you to wear. They were pretty, like a doll’s, a pale eggshell white with elegant gold carvings etched into the skin. They were comfortable, too, so much so that you almost forgot they were prosthetic, and Lera had to remind you multiple times to take them off before heading to bed.

You wanted to thank Sandrone for your legs, but you haven't seen her since your measurements and fitting. You asked a servant to send a message to her, but you've gotten no indication that she's even received it, let alone a response. As for Dottore, you were able to send your regards through Ulyana, who had to visit his section of the Palace anyway.

Tartaglia visits you daily, and soon you begin to coincidentally meet with the other Harbingers, who always seemed to have time for entertainment in the form of you.

“Oh, are you the one that our dear Tartaglia is so smitten with?” Came the sing-songy voice of Columbina. You pause, turning around slowly. To be honest, Columbina was one of the Harbingers you'd most like to avoid. Her soft voice sent shivers down your spine that—you hope—would be attributed to the cold instead.

You turn towards her, and, afraid your voice might crack, say nothing and simply nod instead.

“What’s your name, little songbird?” She asks you. You give it to her in a quiet voice, and she returns it with her own. Before she can say anything more, Tartaglia comes by and wraps an arm around you, making up some excuse about the two of you having someplace you needed to be. Columbina watches the two of you leave in silence, a small, closed-eyed smile upon her face.

Later, Tartaglia warns you away from Columbina. “There's something not right with her,” he says, a rare frown dancing upon his lips. “I can't place it, but you're better off staying away. And that's not just because I'd rather keep you to myself.” He then smiles and ruffles your hair in an attempt to lighten the mood. You don't say anything, but nod when he asks you to avoid her.

Pantalone is next. He visits you directly, bringing with him two golden bracelets you have no choice but to let him place upon your wrists. They do a good job of covering up your scars, which you assume is the intention behind the gift. It's oddly thoughtful, coming from him. But you know better than to think it was free.

You aren't sure if you want to know what he expects in exchange.

You meet with La Signora next, and you're surprised to see that she's still alive. You suppose the Traveler hasn't made it to Inazuma in this world yet. That's strange, but you decide not to dwell on it.

Next is Dottore’s segments, also still alive, and all of whom seem to enjoy lingering around your quarters. You often find one or two hanging around in the hallways, always making light conversation or asking if you require anything. You know better than to write it off as a coincidence, and for a while you entertained the thought that Dottore had put them up to it, before promptly writing it off as ridiculous.

Still, a small part of you can't help but wonder if the doctor has taken a special interest in one of his dear patients.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Two weeks into your stay at the Zapolyarny Palace, you overhear a conversation amongst the servants. You hide behind a banister and listen in.

“How long has it been now?” Says a maid, a nervous hand tangled in her hair, tugging it slightly. You’ve seen her before but have never gotten her name. She’s speaking to another maid who you recognize as Tatinana.

“Almost a month, I’d say,” responds the other, gently stopping her from ruining her braids.

“Everyone’s getting antsy. I’ve never seen Lord Tartaglia so irritable.”

“I know what you mean. He used to be such a laid-back guy. Now, you can barely even hold a conversation without him looking at you like he’s ready to tear out your eyes. Lord Scaramouche has gotten even more unbearable to be around, too. And you can tell the Player’s absence has taken a toll on everyone else as well.” Player, huh? If their absence is so heavily noticed, they must be important. It’s odd, though. You’ve never once heard about such a character existing at all, let alone their disappearance. You keep listening, hoping for clues about this mysterious person’s identity.

“Don’t you think the timing is a little odd? They showed up right before the Player stopped logging in. They’ve got the Harbingers wrapped around their finger. It’s too precise to be a coincidence. There’s something to it, I just know it.” Is she…talking about you now? So this ‘Player’ disappeared right before you showed up? They stopped ‘logging in’? Well, isn’t that wording a bit peculiar? It sure sounds like gamer lingo to you.

This Player that they mentioned…it couldn’t be you, could it?

“Enough with your conspiracies. Let’s get back to work before—” A floorboard creaks from under your foot, and the two maids freeze. You suppose there’s no use in hiding anymore, so you step out to face them.

“E-esteemed guest, w-what brings you here?”

“Ah, nothing much,” you say. “I heard voices and came to take a look. What were you two talking about?” You ask casually, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“Nothing!” The girl with braided hair squeaks. You raise an eyebrow at her, and the other shakes her head.

The girl sighs. “We aren’t supposed to talk about them,” she says.

“Maria, I think they heard,” Tatiana says. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me more about this ‘Player’ you mentioned.”

“Didn’t stop you before.”

“Right, well…” She pauses, seemingly formulating her next words carefully. “It’s this…force. This being behind the Traveler. We don’t know its true nature, none of us have ever seen anything like it. It controls the Traveler and their companions like a puppet to its puppeteer.”

“They’ve lost their minds,” Maria whispers. “It’s scary. They make us clean a ghost’s room. Every day, it has to be spotless.”

“And? What’s the goal?”

“That’s the thing…none of us know. The Harbingers know something, they’re all obsessed with the Player, they’re convinced that the Player holds some kind of power they can utilize, but the Player isn’t from Teyvat, and only Lord Tartaglia has figured out how to interact with it.”

“Interact with it how?”

“By being possessed. All the Harbingers want to be controlled by the Player, they think it’ll make them stronger. But it’s more than that. They used to just want to use the Player for their own gain, but somewhere along the way things changed. They’ve been working on a way to bring them here, and when they do there’s a whole wing in the Zapolyarny Palace dedicated to them.”

“It was unbearable right after the Player first disappeared, the air was suffocating. But then Lord Tartaglia brought you back and things started to return to normal. I overheard him saying being with you reminded him of when the Player used to take control.” You nod, the cogs in your head turning furiously. That settles it, then. Without a shred of doubt, you are the Player.

“Hey, so listen…”

The Tsarista summoned you and all Harbingers to a meeting in an effort to control the chaos your revelation had caused.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You thought you were prepared to see the Tsarista for the first time, but nothing in the world could prepare you for the sheer, glacial beauty standing in front of you. Her presence was strong, commanding obedience with a simple glance. Her eyes looked at you coldly, interest evident in her face as she called the meeting to order. A beautiful crown of ice sat upon her head, her impossibly white hair elegantly framing her face as it cascaded down her back.

The meeting passed by in a blur. You remember them talking about your need to be protected, to never leave the Palace without at least two Harbingers or the Tsaritsa herself escorting you. You remember telling them about how you died, stating simply that you ‘fell from a high place’ and omitting the part where you jumped. You remember the color of the buttons each Harbinger wore on their coat. But you don’t remember the part where you agreed to stay with them. You don’t remember anyone even asking.

After the meeting, news of your true identity spread like wildfire. Some people didn’t believe it, calling you a fraud or an imposter, but those voices were quickly snuffed out the second the Harbingers started to accept your new status as the Player. Immediately, you were moved to the Player’s Wing in the Zapolyarny Palace, an easy move, considering you had no possessions.

You don’t know why they’re trying so hard to win your favor or even if they realize that they’re failing, but either way, you know you need to get out of here. You’d try dying again if you thought that would work, but after seeing your scars, the Harbingers have already blocked all potential means of speeding up your expiration date. That only leaves one option.

The Harbingers’ visits, already a nuisance, became overbearing in no time. If it wasn’t Tartaglia dragging you to his training hall, it was Dottore giving you the nitty-gritty of his latest experiments. If it wasn’t Arlecchino shoving sweets down your throat, it was Pantalone burying you in gifts.

If it wasn’t one, it was always the other.

You have to run away.

But how? The Harbingers are all working together to keep you under constant lock and key.

Maybe if you were able to break the bonds they’ve formed with each other, you could recruit one of them to help you. They’re all selfish assholes. You’re sure it wouldn’t be difficult to convince one of them they’d be better off keeping you to themselves.

“I have something to tell you,” you say, brushing a strand of hair out of the Balladeer’s face. “It’s about Dottore.”

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mellowwillowy · 9 months

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Zapolyarny Palace's Cat

Fem reader, either a literal cat or a hybrid(?) is up to you. All Harbingers + Archon, Pulcinella, and his grandpa joke (aww), Scaramouche appears later as a surprise. Yan tendencies near the ending.

"Mew.."

You mewl while Childe scratches your head, Pantalone tends your nails, Columbina combs your furs, Sandrone fixes the bowtie on your tail while Capitano feeds you a cat snack. Both Pierro and Pulcinella are reading your examination report, ensuring no anomalies to your health. Dottore on the other hand, is prescribing you multiple supplements to be taken for this one week. Rosalyne and Arlecchino are preparing your meal, only the best and warmest for you!

"Yaah, it seems like our little princess is getting sleepy!" Childe chirps while Pantalone eyes him to keep his voice down.

"Well I think it's fine if she wants to sleep now, she just went through all those troublesome checkups today," Sandrone replies as she makes sure the angle of the bowtie is perfect.

"I'm sure both Signora and Arlecchino are nowhere near finishing the dishes for Princess," Columbina humms as she combs your furs, the best thing you could ever wish for.

Capitano freezes midway, contemplating whether he should keep letting you lick the snack.

"I think it's better to end her snack time now, she might not eat her dinner because she's full later," Pantalone chides the confused Captain.

Capitano put away the snack and asked both Pierro and Pulcinella about the report,

"How is it? Any anomalies?"

"She's in peak-perfect condition, it's great that she doesn't catch a cold anymore," Pierro says as he hands Capitano the report.

"It would be worrying if she catches one again, if that happens again, maybe we should let her visit the other nation," Pulcinella suggests jokingly.

"If so, that would only halt her from adapting, Rooster. Remember, no matter where she heads, she is still our Nation's pride and joy"

Everyone looks toward the Tsaritsa who is staring at them all sternly,

With you on her lap.

"Honestly, that old hag doesn't look so intimidating anymore with princess sleeping on her lap," Dottore mumbled to himself before he is surprised by Arlecchino's response.

"I know right, she doesn't feel cold anymore like the ice she is. Maybe Princess really is her portable heater"

"Arlecchino, be careful of spilling princess' milk," Signora reminds the Knave as she carries a tray of meals, one that looks tasty even for humans except that it's served for you.

"Princess, wake up~ your dinner's ready~" Signora places down the tray while poking you, her voice completely different from how she usually speaks.

To be fair, everyone's tone is different when it comes to you,

"Princess, it's your favorite," Capitano holds the bowl in front of your nose, the smell tempting you to wake up and lick your lip.

God~~ even the sternest Captain is cooing at you~~

"The milk? Warm! Tasty! Princess~~ come to quench your thirst with this~~" Childe holds the bowl in front of you as well.

"Look at these side treats," Arlecchino holds some treats in which Dottore has inserted the supplements into it.

"You have to make sure she eats it all!" He whispers into her ear.

"Ohoho! Look at these chickens, oh no, it's me but minced and cooked isn't it?"

'What a grandpa-style joke' everyone thinks to themselves.

You stretch yourself, tail wagging from left to right before sniffing the meal. It does look really tasty, different from your daily meals, probably because you just had your check-ups.

"Oh? She's finally eating it now" Sandrone watches in adoration.

Everyone watches you eat peacefully, with you no longer weirded out by this.

"Slowly, no one's taking your dinner away princess~" Pantalone coos at you as his finger brushes your fave lightly.

"Maybe she thought we are all here to eat her dinner, hehe," Columbine chortles in response.

"Come to think of it, where's Balladeer?" Pierro asks after he counts the people in the chamber.

Your head perks up and you pull out a wooden doll.

The wooden doll looks oddly familiar, way too familiar.

It's Scaramouche.

"What?" Everyone rhymes.

The wooden doll moves by itself angrily, jumping up and down, left and right while smokes fuming out of the wood.

You smack it playfully before giving it a playful lick, returning its form back.

"Hah! Great! Finally, someone notices that I'm missing! After a whole day getting smacked by her!"

True, you have been playing Scaramouche, smacking, rolling, and munching him.

"Balladeer, you must have been having the best time of your life huh?" Pantalone muses, while everyone nods in agreement.

"If that is so true, why not turn yourself into one?" He retorts back.

"Me! Me! I nominate myself to be princess's munching toy!" Childe beams in joy.

"No way, what she needs is something clean, clinically approved" The Doctor sneers.

"You? With your bloody hands from those immoral surgeries?" Sandrone raises one of her eyebrows.

"Hey, there's gloves"

"Metaphorically speaking, you are still dirtily bloody in a way," the Damslette retorts.

Signora chuckles at her retort while the archon only shakes her head.

"Ah."

Everyone looks at the Captain.

In response, he points toward you,

"Ohoho, looks like our little princess has finished her dinner!" The Rooster exclaims merrily.

"Now now, drink your milk princess! You have to stay hydrated!" Arlecchino brings the bowl closer to you.

"Or maybe a bowl of water" Pierro slides it next to the milk.

"Or... juice?" The archon blinks in confusion.

You start drinking all the offered and burp a bit. An aww soon follows.

Dottore elbows Arlecchino to hand you the side treats, with supplements stuffed inside of them.

"Uh... princess, it's tr-"

"It's treat time, Princess!" Damslette snatches the treats from Arlecchino who is stuttering. She knows how Arlecchino feels bad about having to make you eat it without you knowing it.

"Princess, have a bite," Tsaritsa encourages you while scratching your head.

"Huh? The treat looks weir-"

"Now now, let's have you drink some water, even if you are a puppet, you still have to stay hydrated," Dottore cuts Scaramouche by forcing a bottle of water into him with Childe holding him in place.

Everyone only chuckles at this sight.

You too, laugh with them.

A pill was sneaked into your treats, but who are you to break their caring heart? You munch everything until none were left.

Until none were left.

...

You truly hope that everything stays as it is. The Harbingers taking a break from dragging each other down and only basking in your warmth.

You wish you could forever bring warmth to this cold palace.

This cold, lonely palace that stands alone.

"Eternity, that is to be blessed on her"

"What used to be a curse is now a blessing bestowed upon her"

"I suppose it is medically possible as well"

"She is, after all, a warrior that will never die"

"Hehehe... she is indeed the fair woman who will forever sing"

"This whole nation will never mourn if she will forever ring her bell"

"Even if we can't give her a human body, a puppet will always work as the second option"

"I suppose I am the most suitable for crafting her a delicate body"

"The fire in her will never die, for I will be her last spark of fire"

"And I suppose we shall spare no cents when it comes to her"

"Thus this is not an option but an obligation"

"For our princess should never rest in eternity~"

Soon, everyone will hear the bell on your bowtie ringing again.

Note: can you guess everyone's speech correctly? What are your guesses (speech order)? :DD

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thetempleofhades · 7 months

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DANCE OF FLOWERS!

repost of one of my older fics that i had saved somewhere. I was and still am really proud of this fic, i still like it a lot.

Upon hearing about you, The Tsaritsa found herself eager to find out more. To see you with her own eyes. That’s why she finds herself in Monstad for once. She doesn’t want to be here, of course, but you’re more important than any of those she holds in contempt.

Laughter sounded from a crowded area just up ahead, and she went towards it. She listened to the tune playing as successfully weaved herself to the front of the crowd.

The laughter and music grew louder and she couldn’t help but watched in awe as you twirled yourself and the child you held onto, smile wide on your face. Your face flush red from happiness. This look was what she liked best on you. Happiness suited you better than the benevolent neutrality that people made you famous for.

Flowers were weaved into your hair, resembling the ones that bloomed all throughout teyvat. Flowers seemed to blood in her stomach as well as she stared at you, completely mesmerized.

You locked eyes with her and smiled at her, head tilting to the side before letting go of Klee’s hands and heading towards her. “Dance with me.” You spoke out, smiling happily at her without a single trace of fear as you grabbed her hands. They were cold, like ice, but you didn’t mind.

“Ah.” She spoke out finally, looking down at you and let you drag her out. She easily followed your footsteps and twirled you around without having to be told.

Venti watched closely while still playing the tune with ease. He was a bard after all. He knew why she was there and he didn’t want her hurting their precious creator, so he made sure to keep an eye on them.

“You dance really well, my lady.” You beamed at her as you held onto her hands, cheeks flushed as you still danced to the song that was nearing it’s end. “It was my honor to dance with you.” You smiled as you looked up and all kind of petals rained down upon the surrounding people.

You stepped back, letting go of her hands and reconnecting with Klee before turning around and heading off with Klee and Venti in tow.

She searched for you for weeks afterwards but never found you, so she went back to Schneznaya with hope that you may get her gifts and letters.

Every single gift and letter she sent was intercepted by one of the acolytes, except for a music box.

A beautifully crafted music box with the same tune that the two of you had danced to, and on top where the figurine usually was, sat you. Beautiful, kind, happy you with petals drifting around. It was a beautiful gift. One you fawned over to everyone that would listen.

“Your Grace....” Zhongli glanced at your pouting lips before his eyes drifted over to your puffed out cheeks and up to your furrowed eyebrows. “Please understand, it’s dangerous. We only wish to keep you safe.”

“Why would she hurt me? She’s been sending me gifts and letters! Which you always discarded Zhongli!” You crossed your arms, upset at the actions they took.

Zhongli’s face softened as he came closer to you and grasped at your hand so that he might press a kiss to it. “I’m sorry. I just want to protect you. I’m your loyal acolyte. I wish only good things to come your way. I should have consulted you first, my creator.”

Your face softened and a sigh came from your lips as you gazed at him. “I can never stay mad at you.... But!” You added on as his face brightened. “I want to meet with her! She sent an invitation to have tea with her in her palace! I’ll take Aether and Lumine! I’ll be safe so please Zhongli!!!” You pleaded with him, grasping at his hand, desperate for his approval.

You knew they only did these things to protect you, to protect your happiness so you always let it slide but you wanted to see her again so badly! You couldn’t stop playing the music box and listening to it with longing.

Venti sighed from the doorway before making his way into the room. “C’mon Zhongli! It’s the Honorary Knight and Lumine is just as capable! They’ll be perfectly safe. Let them have a little fun.”

“Alright.” He sighed as he agreed, making you jump for joy and hug him tight, repeatedly thanking him.

You were so happy! You had been waiting so long to see her again. Ever since that dance, you hadn’t been able to get her off of your mind. And now, you were going to have tea with her in Schneznaya. Lumine and Aether would be there too but you knew they wouldn’t cause any trouble, they were good people.

Oh, you couldn’t wait!

And that led you to where you were right now! In front of the Zapolyarny Palace with the twins at your sides and a bouquet of red carnations in your hands.

“You have to be on your best behavior, okay? No matter how much someone aggravates you. The Tsaritsa has been very kind to allow us to visit, so we must be kind in return.” You lectured them, sternly.

Lumine nodded her head and nudged Aether to the same. “We’ll make sure to be civil no matter who it is, right Aether?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry so much your grace. We’ll be role models!” Aether pumped his fist in the air with Paimon at his side watching in suspicious silence.

“Paimon too, right?” You smiled at the floating girl and she pouted before nodded reluctantly.

“Paimon will be nice.”

A snort cut through the silence as Scaramouche appeared in front of them. “Surprised to see you three, survival must be easy for you huh?” He smiled mockingly at them before it turned sincere once he turned to you and bowed. “Your Divine Grace, The Tsaritsa sent me to guide you to the tea room.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him and ushered your three companions to follow as you knew they disliked Scaramouche and you knew why but you aimed to have a peaceful tea time with The Tsaritsa!

“You’ve come.” Once she saw you, the Tsaritsa smiled at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling up with it. “I thought you wouldn’t, you never responded to any of my letters....”

You rubbed the back of your neck with a hand. “Ah, yes. The letters and gifts except the music box and the letter than came with it were all not given to me.” You spoke and upon seeing the Tsaritsa’s rising anger, hurried to soothe her. “They’re just trying to protect me. Will you forgive them this once?” You pleaded with her.

“If it’s what you wish...” She conceded, not wanting to go against your will.

“I... um.... I didn’t know what kind of flowers you like so I made red carnations for you.” You handed the bouquet over to her and she smiled down at it.

“You are much too kind, come. Let’s have tea together. Scaramouche, lead the twins and their companion towards the other table.” She commanded and you smiled at the three companions.

Lumine frowned but bit her tongue. You wanted them to be on their best behavior. Even if it means being nice to....ugh..... Scaramouche, she’ll do it. For you.

Aether was working hard to hold himself back, reminding himself that this was what you wanted.

“Sorry Travellers, heard you were coming and made sure you wouldn’t have too many options. Must hurt your head to think all the time, huh?” Scaramouche remarked as he smirked and walked forward.

Aether wondered if it was too late to stop being nice to that prick.

Meanwhile, with you and the Tsaritsa, you both were chatting happily with each other.

“Thank you for the music box. It was lovely.” Hands clutched at the teacup in your hands as you smiled down at the contents in the cup.

“I’m glad you liked it, you left an impression on me. I wanted to see you again.” She spoke out as she reached out her hand and brushed her thumb along your cheekbone. “I’m happy you came to see me.”

Red filled your cheeks and you nodded fervently. “M-Me too! I wanted to see you too......”

You bit into one of the tea cakes, a pink one. “Mmm!” You made a sound of approval as you swallowed it. “So good!” You spoke before taking a sip of your tea. "I’ve never had a tea cake that tasted so good before.”

The Tsaritsa watched you with a fond look on her face as she pulled back her hand and grabbed the white chocolate tea cake grabbed a piece of it with her fork. “Let me food you.” She insisted and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth.

She fed it to you and you made another sound of approval. “This one is good too!” You looked so happy and she couldn’t help herself but to learn forward and press a kiss to your lips.

A crash sounded somewhere behind you and you turned bright red as you hid your face. “My lady! W-W-W-” You couldn’t form a response to what had just happened.

My first kiss!

You could have sworn you heard Scaramouche cackling behind you as Lumine whispered at Aether to calm down.

#sagau #genshin cult au #genshin sagau #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #the tsaritsa

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 months

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*knocks on your window*

visiting Childe as he recovers after the Fontaine Archon Quest. he's a Harbinger, so he gets the best treatment and a private room in the medical wing of the Fatui's headquarters which makes sneaking in to visit him pretty easy- you don't really need to sneak in, of course. everyone knows that Childe is smitten with you and is not afraid to use violence against anyone who causes you harm, so even if you're not a Fatuus everyone still knows who you are. Childe lights up when you enter the room, beaming as bright as the sun despite his injuries to the point you almost decide against smacking him over the head, before going with your gut and giving his skull a quick thwack.

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!"

you sound like you're about to strangle him but Childe only laughs, rubbing the back of his head and looking up at you fondly as you lecture him- you could talk about anything and he'd listen, even if it was listing every rock type in Teyvat or the different kinds of clouds in the sky. you're halfway through your rant when there's a snap and a crackle of violet lightning before a set of claws grasps your hands. Foul Legacy looks down at you, a little battered and worse for wear but still delighted in your mere presence, purring and chittering hoarsely when you gasp and start muttering that both he and Childe are absolutely out of their minds- what sort of idiot uses his Abyssal form when he's already injured?! but Legacy merely nuzzles his head against your cheek, kneading his talons against the blankets, and with a defeated sigh you give in and wrap your arms as best you can around his waist.

"You two need to take better care of yourselves." is all you mutter, and Legacy lets out a raspy, growling laugh, almost like he's saying "No promises."

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe and legacy: *get very injured*#you: by the tsaritsa not again #you're so exasperated by their shenanigans but you love them so much #and they're so infatuated with you #short scenario #wifi's brainrot #good evening

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enassbraid · 2 years

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one last genshin post for tonight, green is used for camouflage, right? especially out in the open

ahem. just a thought.

#he also has some kinda illness which might explain that white streak in his hair #baizhu #genshin impact #genshin #hoyoverse #fatui harbingers #fatui #tartaglia #scaramouche #the tsaritsa

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lovesickeros · 8 days

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☆ 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.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #tsaritsa #“eros you left for a month again” yeah.................#anyway. posts tsaritsa fic and leaves #i kept it kinda vague but the fatui are all on your side. whether or not your actually the creator or not though..#now thats up for debate.#did they tamper w teyvat to kill the archons? to break the world to be remade in whatever image they see fit?#using you as the means of their end?#maybe you are the creator and they just saw an opportunity. maybe they are just devoted to you.#i just think lowkey villain au but specifically imposter au where the only ones who side w u r the fatui like OUGH #i love the fatui. them being the only ones 2 side w u is so tasty #prime material for angst bc the self doubt if the only ppl who believe u r the “villains”#a lot of this is just like. tsaritsa posting again though #the tsaritsa who loves so deeply yet cannot love #contradictions all the way down #she loves you but she cannot love you.#she loves you but she will put a dagger between your ribs. she loves you but she is incapable of love #tsaritsa the woman that u r ough #harbingers and their complex relations 2 love my beloved #smth smth tsaritsa seeing an opportunity to install a puppet “creator” which creates a separate imposter!au when the actual creator pops in #did i write this just 2 write tsaritsa being vague and Weird and horrifying and a horror and a lover and just a woman and #yeah :]#please talk 2 me abt the tsaritsa pleas epleas pleas eplease please please please p[lease please pleas

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