Hello. If The TDOR Is Still Open For Requests, Is It Okay To Ask For Zhongli And Kazuha? The 'former'

Hello. If the TDOR is still open for requests, is it okay to ask for Zhongli and Kazuha? The 'former' archon asking you about what you think about his 'retirement' and you helping Kazuha (with his guidance) on bandaging his hand.

Fluff, if you don't mind? Thank you!

- I shall be known as Anon 🍞

A/N: Welcome to the Anon list, Anon 🍞!

MASTERLIST

To Dream of Reality ~ Zhongli 1, Kazuha 1 ~

"reflection, and wounds"

TW: wounds, bandaging, poor writing of bandaging, creative liberties of why Kazuha still uses bandages, wikihow help me. OH and scars.

You had just rewatched a friend play through Liyue's Archonquest, and finished playing Kazuha's story quest yourself.

Maybe that's why you dreamt of Zhongli's words.

Maybe that's why you dreamt of holding Kazuha's hand as you rewrapped his bandages, of holding him tight.

~~

~~

Morax "Rex Lapis"- nay, Zhongli, stood alone as he stared upon Liyue from a nearby cliff. The streets were busy, for news of the Creator's return had inspired the people to better themselves.

It seemed they still needed a Divine to lead them, after all, Zhongli thought, Maybe, if I set them up correctly, the Creator would be happier with my efforts.

Ah, he thought.

I, too, rely on the guidance of the Divines.

It's quiet realization, one that he merely acknowledges as truth without elaborating on it.

"Did I do the right thing?" He whispers into the quiet dawn.

"I can't give you the answer," They mutter, and Zhongli wanted to fall to his knees. The Creator, in all their glory.

A true God.

"Your Eminence, I request you elaborate." He said. Was he overstepping?

"...You were tired, and you drew the line."

Zhongli could not help but feel relief. The Language of the Divine was absolute, understood by everyone but only spoken by one. This was the creator, this was the absolute Divine, the Mother of the World, the Father of their People, The True God.

And they agreed with him.

They smiled, and kept speaking.

"Maybe the action of leaving it completely to your people was faulty, or maybe letting the Fatui take your Gnosis was wrong, but you drew the line when you were tired. I think it's fine, but it's your choice to make."

The Creator's hand reached up to Zhongli's face, their ghostly hand soft on his cheek.

"Decide your own fate, as your people must now do."

He turned towards the Harbor, at the people frantically cleaning the streets.

"Then I will keep living as a mortal... I will protect my people from within, not as Morax, but as Zhongli."

You only smiled.

~

Kazuha's hands were worn and scarred. He swore he could still feel the phantom sensation of a burning Vision, the last sparks of ambition before the flame of life burned out. No longer were his hands in danger of bleeding at any moment, but the scars were unsightly.

Three parts slime condensate to one part Mist Flower Corolla.

The cooling balm didn't heal anything, nor did it give him lasting relief. But the moment of cold, of hiding the scars, of pretending the scars left behind by the dying flame of a life never existed.

Before he could begin to wrap his hands again, the scent of stars and the sound of a foreign language notified him of your appearance.

You gently grasped his hand.

"May I?"

He nodded and handed you the bandages.

If it was anybody else, he thought to himself, they would certainly be panicking.

But to him, the Creator was not a god to be feared, but the World itself. A parent and guide, a sibling and friend, a child and gift.

It was no different than encountering a new stranger, a potential ally, a new friend.

"I've already applied the Slime Condensate. Wrap just firmly enough to support the wrist, and make sure to wrap half of the previous bandage."

The Creator's hands were pleasantly cold as he guided them through it. They traced his scars lovingly before looking into his eyes.

"They're beautiful," the Creator said. "But I wish you didn't need the bandages." they admit.

Fully bandaged and securely tucked away, the Creator grasped Kazuha's hands, holding them tight to their chest.

"May your wounds recover, in body and soul, heart and mind."

~~~~

The alarm doesn't scare you back to the waking world, but you cannot help but yearn for the dream you just had.

...

What was it about again?

You close your eyes and lie down again, hoping to recall the sensation of soft words and gentle hands, but you just can't remember it.

...

You've got work to do today.

You can't wait to go back to sleep, to see who will greet you in your dreams tonight.

Maybe this time you'll remember.

Remembrance (Chat Log 4)

TW: School, dorm inspections, Fischl being... Fischl.

MASTERLIST

Jean Gunholder: On account of Venti's absence, I'd like to make the announcement to all students of @Anemo dorms. Dainsleif is doing room inspections next week, so keep that in mind. Jean Gunholder: On a similar note, does anyone know what happened to Venti?

Zhongli Lapis Dei: My apologies, I do not know anything about this situation.

xiao: Nope

viator: oh

viatrix: he's just 

viator: out of commission

viatrix: for the moment.

ajax: the twin hivemind in full sight, people. proof that sibling connection is stronger than  ajax: yo @albedo

albedo: graphene

ajax: stronger than graphene okay

[viator] has added [Paimon] to [TVAA]

viator: sorry i finally remembered

[venti] has changed [Paimon]'s name to [Snack]

♍ona ♍agistus: Your next line shall be, "Paimon is not emergency food!"

Snack: PAIMON IS NOT EMERGENCY FOOD Snack: ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF PAIMON

♍ona ♍agistus: Of course not. ♍ona ♍agistus: though why this jest came to fruition, my sight cannot pierce.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔷𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔦𝔩𝔲𝔫𝔤: Halt, my dear servants, for my Auge Der Vererteilung hast seen the truths of this matter. It is quite simple to say that these instances of intuition are flakes of another reality such as the Immernachtreich that I once ruled over, blending over through time.

Oz: She believes that there is some isekai-style reincarnation going on.

venti: No. It's nothing like that, everybody. Sorry to worry you.

<Message Deleted>

kae: wha was that

[venti] has changed [Snack]'s name to [Paimon]

venti: ?

Jean Gunholder: Where were you?

venti: yknow around venti: don’t worry about it.

xiao: uh xiao: is the AC broken xiao: or did someone set it on max? kaedekazu: The anemo dorms? kaedekazu: indeed, it does seem stronger kaedekazu: and what of your dorms? Noelle: Nothing seems to be wrong in the Geo dorms Thoma: nope, pyro droms all good! Thoma: *dorms, sorry. 

venti: I GOT IT

xiao: ???

Zhongli Lapis Dei: Is something wrong?

xiao: venti just fucking dabbed??? xiao: and the AC stopped freaking outr????

Omg To Dream of Reality is sooo good!

But I can’t help but to think that if I were in Genshin I’d probably follow kaeya or xiao around trying to hug them and if I think it’s a dream I’m totally playfully calling kaeya my husband lol

I didn’t see if you aren’t talking requests or don’t want anons so sorry if I’m breaking a rule 😅

A/N: lkj;lkj;lkj THANK YOU FOR SENDING IN A REQUEST! This is still my first writing blog, so I'm no used to setting anything up, I'll prepare a proper ruleset and adjust some stuff around, but thank you, First-Anon!

To Dream of Reality ~ Xiao 1, Kaeya 1 ~

"hugs, and teasing"

TW: Xiao being angsty, Kaeya being Kaeya(flirty), and Reader/Creator being pale(Ghostly, not white-pale) as per the usual.

MASTERLIST

~~~~

You, exhausted by your daily life, escape once again into the sweet realm of dreams. That night, you dream of Xiao. Of calling his name into the wind, of embracing him, wishing the burden of his karmic debt to lessen. You dream, too, of Kaeya. Of embracing him, of whispering sugared words to him, of calling him "husband." Your dream is blissful and sweet, as you walk alongside characters that you know you cannot touch.

~~

~~

"Xiao? Can you hear me?" It's not a language Xiao knows, nor is it one commonly spoken in Teyvat. And yet, the whispers echo in his heart, resounding in his soul as he closes his eyes, focusing on the breeze and the wind that carried the call.

"You asked for me?" He mutters, eyes opening as the Creator smiled at him.

The Creator reached out to him, but he did not flinch. Gently, tenderly, the Creator's hand held his own, and the burden of death that followed him seemed to lighten.

His headache, so familiar that it became normal, faded.

And the Creator simply smiled, tugging on his arm and bringing him into a safe, secure embrace.

"It'll all be alright."

~

Kaeya Alberich is one to filter rumors.

He is one to separate gossip from truth from lies.

At first, the miraculous appearance of the Creator is a drunkard's tale, one of "Too many drinks" or a brief meeting with death.

And so, it is but a rumor.

That is, until one moonlit night where the Captain had to patrol.

That is, until pale hands wrap around his chest, pulling him down and into the arms of a person he had never seen before, but known all his life.

The Creator had blessed him with their presence.

It's a sly, cheeky smile as the Creator gives a grin, "Husband," slipping through their lips. And though the syllables were unknown to him, the meaning is loud and clear.

For just a moment, his mind goes blank.

Their ultimate divine, above even Celestia, had called him "husband". "Oh?" He asks with a laugh, his false smile appearing on his face as easy as breathing. "Am I really so precious to you, Your Grace?"

They only smiled, hugging him tighter, til his head was held comfortably in the crook of the neck of the Divine.

They leaned over again, and Kaeya felt the warm breath of the Creator against his ear.

And as tenderly as they held him, their hands left his body, the Creator glancing around with a frown.

"Five more minutes, please," They whisper, the meaning echoing within Kaeya's heart. "Five more minutes," They begged.

The Creator sighed in defeat, and Kaeya watched as they vanished, transparent hands vanishing, leaving only the tender touch of a kiss in the wind.

~~

It's time for work, you think to yourself. But you don't feel sad about it, for some strange reason. You've been getting better sleep lately, and yet you never seem to recall your dreams.

You're not tired, but something within you still wants to dream.

So who, you wonder, will you dream of tonight?

To Dream of Reality ~Glory~

"visitor, and message"

MASTERLIST

A/N: Mond's reaction to the arrival of the True Divine, the Almighty Creator, but really it's just Glory... and also please do send me asks, I work better with prompts.

TW: The blind NPC from Mond, "a siren's call," and white lies... Or half truths.

Sometimes, as you slave away at work, chiseling at your pile of assignments slowly and carefully, your mind wanders. You dream, sometimes, of just walking around Mondstadt, of the scent of Good Hunter's food, of the sound of Katheryne's voice, of what could be.

The dream is enrapturing, enticing, and all devouring. Sometimes, it's all you can think about.

~

"Did you hear, They've descended!"

"Tell Master Jean that They're by the gate!"

"Y-Your Grace!"

Their God walked over the bridge, smiling as the pigeons didn't scatter. Their hand traced Timmie's own, their headpat soft.

"Excuse me," they asked the guard. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope, can we help you, s-strange yet respectable traveler?" Swan asked, the harsh gaze of passerby making him shiver. What was he supposed to do, go against the handbook?

"Oh, then, thank you for your hard work!" the Divine said, walking through the gate, mingling with the townsfolk.

The Creator's presence was absolute. Even if their physical form was as normal and mundane as the townsfolk, the mark their soul gave off was radiant.

Not that Glory could see it.

She had heard the commotion and wonder on the wind when a new pattern of footsteps clattered upon the floor.

"May I rest here?"

The voice was soft and sweet, a language unfamiliar yet understood. She nodded. The bench shook a little, the force of the stranger- nay, the Creator- caused the bench to squeak.

"If I may be so bold, have you heard anything from Godwin?"

The Creator smiled. Glory did not know how she knew that the Creator was smiling, but they did, and she knew.

"He's working hard, in his own way, to hurry home with pride."

No lies slipped through their lips. Glory knew somehow, that the words were true, despite not knowing the language. It was instinctual, heartwarming, and strangely familial.

Before Glory could offer her thanks, a soft whimper came off of her bench-partner.

"...Five more minutes."

The weight on the bench seemed to vanish, and the comfortable warmth in the air turned cold.

...

Glory had only spoken for no longer than a minute, but somehow, she felt as if a close friend had left.

~

You woke to a familiar alarm, with no memory of your dream, as per the usual.

And yet, a single phrase stuck in your mind.

"Your Grace."

The words were not spoken in any language you knew, but it was familiar all the same.

Like a siren call, you felt as if listening to it would complete your life.

And you turn away as you prepare to face the day once more.

The doorway is real, the rest is airbrushed graffiti. 

@vile_graffiti

I love love love your dream series it's so good hngg

What about the Creator checking up on Venti and Diluc at Angel's Share since we're already in Mondstadt? 👀

To Dream of Reality ~Venti 1, Diluc 1~

“encounter, and closure”

MASTERLIST

TWs: Alcohol usage, venti being drunk as per the usual, Kaeya and Diluc backstory referenced.

~~

You were exhausted. How much work did you make up, how much did you have to do for them, bending over backward to assist…?

You didn’t like alcohol. The buzz it offered only paved the way to pain in the morning, and the flavor was honestly just alright.

But Angel’s Share seemed wonderful despite all that. The music, the atmosphere… Maybe, if you could just be there, you could relax and enjoy it. 

~

It was a rare evening when Master Ragnvindr attended the bar in Angel’s Share. A rare, precious occasion to behold.

The door swung open, and the drunkards froze.

The Creator had descended, and was here. In a tavern. Filled with sad, laughing, horny, crying drunks.

“Your Grace,” Diluc began, “How may we serve you?”

Many of the drunkards stayed silent, merely watching the Creator from afar. But perhaps the most famous of the drunkards didn’t catch the memo.

“Your Benevolence, it’s an honor to see you again~!” 

The green-clad bard could not help but tangle his fingers with the pale stranger, smiling wide as he tugged the God into an impromptu dance. 

“Venti.” Diluc called as he tugged the bard back by the collar. “Your Grace, may we help you?”

They watched, silent, as the god ran their hand through Venti’s hair, their smile gentle and soft. 

Jealousy flared in his chest as he watched Venti of all people retrieve the affection of the Almighty Divine. 

And yet, before he could make his usual retort, arms gently wrapped around him. He looked down, wondering if he was dreaming, if all of this was an illusion crafted for him, another escapist dream to ignore the dawning sun. 

There was no mistake. 

The Creator was embracing him. 

The Creator was hugging him.

“You’ve done well. You’ve worked hard.” The Creator’s whispers were… personal. Warm. Like all his worries could melt away, like all the wrongs in the world had been righted. There was comfort in simply knowing that such comfort did exist. It wasn’t that he was exhausted, but something about the warmth, something about that comfort seemed to be beckoning him to rest. 

And as suddenly as the embrace came, it melted away, the Creator’s touch featherlight as they pulled Venti up, his hair once again fondled as his head was cradled by the Divine. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, Your Grace. I’m- I’m great, thanks.”

“Good,” they smiled, sitting down at the bar counter before motioning to Diluc. “May I?” they asked, pointing to the cider on the menu. Wordlessly, Diluc served one, holding his breath as the Creator sipped it. 

The Creator’s smile was so… 

Perfect.

A bright smile that lit up the entire tavern, the candles paling in comparison to the radiance their smile gave off.

Literally.

“Your Grace, have we done well?” Venti sang, cuddling up to the Almighty Divine.

“Your people are free and you enjoy your every day, yes?” They said, leaning down to the bard’s ear. “And though your Gnosis has been taken and your throne cast aside, you still care for your people as if they were your own children.”

Diluc’s hands lingered over an empty glass, wondering if he was intruding.

“And you,” The Creator began, “Have worked tirelessly to remove corruption, and you once bitten, now twice shy, fear the vulnerability that love can bring. Do be aware that reconciliation is but a single conversation away, and that He has been bitten twice.”

They knew, Diluc realized. 

…Maybe he should talk to Kaeya one more time.

Not for the Creator's will, but perhaps for his own good.

The Creator simply looked at him.

His own good as well as Kaeya's...?

Once more, their hand extended outward as they beckoned towards Diluc and Venti. Their hand buried itself into Venti’s hair before they glanced at Diluc, who leaned down to meet the other hand of the Creator. 

I wish I could stay here longer. I don’t want to leave. My people and children… Teyvat is precious and- 

Foregin thoughts filled Diluc’s mind. They were not his own thoughts, the voice was far too… unharmed to be him. Too light, too bright, too divine. A strange sensation clawed at his heart. 

“Do you have to go, Your Grace?” Venti whispered, and Diluc understood what the feeling was.

Longing.

“Your Grace, we will always have a place for you.” Diluc added on, grasping the hand that glided through his hair.

“I don’t want to leave,” Their Creator whispered, tears forming in their eyes as they called out. “Wait for me, please. I’ll- I’ll return.”

There was no flash of light, nor grand spell that announced the Creator’s departure; simply silence and the loss of warmth.

~~~

You woke not to the taste of your own morning-breath, but to the faint taste of apples and the phantom touch of someone’s warmth on your palms, the faint touch of a given embrace on your arms.

You lived alone, and you hadn’t had apple juice since-

A long while.

You were homesick, but not for your parents’ home where you spent much of your young life.

But perhaps, for something you’ve never seen before…

Your dreams are pleasant, and you cannot help but wonder who you dreamt of, to make you wish for a home you never had.

But the day must go on, and you cannot linger on memories.