Sagau Tdor - Tumblr Posts

Masterlist!

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!

I'm still not used to writing on Tumblr, so if you have any advice, go ahead and tell me!

Rules:

Don't be an asshole

that's basically it.

Requests, questions, brainrots, and pretty much anything is fine! I may not get to it, but I'm sure I'll respond!

Masterlist below the cut!

ACTOR AU

Q&A

Truth or Dare! (Coming Soon)

ACTOR AU(Meeting the actors)

Part 1

Part 2

REMEMBERANCE

Chat Log 1 "A totally Normal Chatfic"

Chat Log 2 "Sibling Fight"

Chat Log 3 "Movie Time"

Chat Log 4 "Where's Venti?"

To Dream of Reality

Creator

"And Live Within Dreams"

Traveler-Aether

exhaustion, and affirmations

NPCs

Glory

visitor, and message

MONDSTADT

Venti

encounter, and closure (+Diluc)

Diluc

encounter, and closure (+Venti)

Kaeya

hugs, and teasing (+Xiao)

Mona

fate, and interpretation

LIYUE

lantern rite, and festivities(ft. Ningguang)

Xiao

hugs, and teasing (+Kaeya)

Zhongli

reflection, and wounds (+Kazuha)

INAZUMA

Kazuha

reflection, and wounds (+Zhongli)

Scaramouche/Wanderer

nightmare, and comfort (A/N: This is the first work in the series and horribly short. It mostly defines the vague outline of the TDOR series. I might revamp this.)

to save, and name ft. Traveler-Aether

Thoma

meal, and rumors

ASSORTED SHIT

Genderfluid Aether Ventfic

ANON LIST

💕Anon

🍞Anon

To Dream of Reality ~ Scaramouche 1 ~

"nightmare, and comfort"

TWs: Mention of nightmares, minor denial of our reality. NOTE: Pale skin in this context refers to pale as in "Sickly" or "Not flushed" rather than like- white skin. You can have dark skin and still look pale.

MASTERLIST

"The Creator has descended at last!" they whisper among the streets. And indeed, they did descend, their form beautiful and handsome, ethereal and inhuman.

~ The Wanderer woke from a nightmare, but did not wake up alone. His eyes peeled open, face wet with tears, and found himself gently held. The arms weren't...warm nor cold, but he could still feel them. A voice rang in his mind as the ghostly figure mouthed out words in a foreign tongue. He didn't understand the words, nor did he know the figure.

And yet, he felt himself lured back to sleep.

And yet, he felt himself comforted by the "Stranger."

It wasn't until the next day he realized the Creator had blessed him with a restful sleep.

~~~

You are not the Creator.

You are a mere civilian, just another person with nothing special to them

You have read so many SAGAU fics by now that you dream of them. You dream of Scaramouche - or Wanderer, as it was officially revealed not too long ago. You dream of him having nightmares, of hugging him tight and telling him that it'll all be alright, that you're here for him.

His skin is cold like porcelain so you treat it as such, holding him so gently, and trailing your fingers over each detail.

~

You dream of Teyvat.

The Creator only appears when their vessel can slumber.

Who do you dream of tonight?

To Dream of Reality ~ Thoma 1 ~

"meal, and rumors"

TW: Waking up from a good dream. The reader is viewed as a ghostly figure. "Pale" in this context refers to ghostly-pale, again, not "white-person" pale, though it can if it applies to your perspective. Otherwise, nothing. Just Thoma being wholesome.

A/N: Yes this is a series, if y'all have requests, just send me an ask.

MASTERLIST

~~~

That night, you had dreamed of Thoma.

Of a meal cooked by his hand.

Of a meal shared with him and the Kamisato siblings.

Of his bright, sweet smile.

You dream of dogs and cats alike, warm as he laughs next to you, petting the soft creatures.

~

~

Thoma had finished his pre-dawn chores. Rumors of the Creator's temporary appearance had spread through the land.

"Their Grace appears, lives as one of the citizens, and vanishes."

"They're checking in on Teyvat! Making sure the normal citizens are living full lives!"

"What if they're dissatisfied?!"

The last rumor in particular had the Tri-Commission in full gear, hoping to improve the lives of everyday citizens in hopes that their Great Creator would praise them.

But for now, Thoma knows, he must simply cook breakfast for the Master and his sister.

As the miso melts within the ladle, quiet footsteps echoed throughout the room. In any other situation, Thoma would have summoned his shield, protecting himself and his 'family.'

But he did not fear.

He turned around and saw the ghostly pale figure of the Creator, smiling at him. Silently, they leaned over the pot as if to smell it, their smile only growing as they looked up at him and spoke in an unfamiliar language, though the meaning echoed throughout his mind.

"It smells great! I can't wait!"

If he has to use more ingredients, he's sure it'll be alright.

It's for the Creator, after all.

He served the miso soup along side fish and rice- True Traditional Inazuman breakfast.

The Creator held chopsticks with grace, lifting a bite of rice to their lips, drinking the soup alongside it.

Thoma held his breath, and the Master and Young Miss watched from their side of the table.

"H-How is it, Your Grace?" He stutters, looking into the Eyes of the True Divine.

The Creator smiled, and Thoma couldn't help but feel warm.

"It's delicious!" They say, in their divine tongue. The meal is finished in silence, comfortable if not a bit awkward.

And as silently they arrived, too did they vanish, leaving clean dishes behind, every bite polished off.

~

Thoma could not help but feel as if the rest of the day was a blur. A strange, unsettling nervousness followed him, for he knew that rumors spread fast.

The Creator had blessed him, the Creator had eaten his own cooking, the Creator was happy because of him.

Relief and jealousy was easy to hear.

But again, did the rumors change but that very afternoon; That a Ghostly Figure, draped in Outlander-like clothing, walked around without a care.

He found you beneath the Yumemiru-Sakura tree where dogs and cats napped all day. You would smile at him, hold up a cat and press its paw to his nose with a cheeky grin.

And he would smile back.

You felt as if you were floating.

And the alarm clock calls you back to the waking world.

Saddened, you stand up and look in the mirror-

It's you.

Not the Creator, but you.

...You cannot help but wonder who you will dream of tonight.

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?

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.

To Dream of Reality (And Live Within Dreams) ~1~

MASTERLIST

TW: Tonal shift, no actual genshin characters, this is creator/reader-centric, Denial of reality, a Creator who tires of the real world

You are a normal person.

Completely and wholly average.

Be it schooling or your profession, you are stressed nonetheless.

You have been playing Genshin in your free time, and sleeping whenever you can.

You have been dreaming well, of something. What exactly it was, you don't know.

But you have been dreaming, and because of that, you have been resting well.

But there is an "Itch" underneath your skin, a sense of unease, a sense of "Wrongness."

Each glance in the mirror, each word you speak, each step and breath feels… wrong, like a t-shirt on too tight or poorly tailored….robes, meant for another.

Robes?

…

It feels inherently wrong, like something's just… not quite there.

Like limbs are missing, limbs you didn't even know you had.

Like words are evading your mind from a language that doesn't exist…

Like your dream is reality, and reality is a dream.

But even still, you merely stand up from your bed and prepare for the daily grind once again. Your dream can wait.

...you still wonder what you'll dream of tonight.

To Dream of Reality ~ Aether 1 ~

"exhaustion, and affirmations"

MASTERLIST

TW: Traveler Aether, i just find it easier to write. Aether is tired AF, feelings of abandonment(i should stop writing at 1am, i just wrote banandonentm) and the Creator being pale(sickly-ghostly pale, not race) as per the usual.

Also, Implied Usage of the Mondstadian Mansion in the Serenitea Pot

~

You wonder sometimes, if the Traveler tires of fighting. If his never-ending journey will come to an end, one with all his friends and his sister, in whatever world he considers home...

~

~

"Of course I'll help you." Those words had been uttered too may times already. How many people had he helped, for the sake of helping?

Jobs done for little pay, sleepless nights spent up for weeks on end, fighting and working without rest?

How many nights were spent on others and not himself? How many times had he saved the lives of thousands of people in exchange for a few minutes of information and a pat on the back?

"It's all for Lumine," He had to remind himself.

He was tired.

"Traveler!" "Honorary Knight!" "Golden Nara!" "My name," He said, sad and exhausted. "Is Aether."

His words were whispered into the wind, a gentle sob ringing in the artificial breeze of the Serenitea Pot.

"Aether!"

The language of Teyvat- Teyvanese, he assumed it was called- was a new language for him. Two months was barely enough to hold a decent conversation, but the sound of their voice, pure and untainted with the poison of mortality-

The language of his homeland, the Tongue of the Divine.

Their pale hands wrapped around him and Aether felt the warm breath on his neck.

"How are you?" they asked, touch as gentle as a mother's embrace, as firm as a father's hold.

He didn't want to lie.

"I could be better," he said. "I'm tired."

Their hands left his body, and he could not help but feel a tinge of sorrow.

And yet, the Creator sat down besides him on that balcony, tugging on his braid and letting it come undone.

"Lie on my lap," they whispered, and though it did not feel like a harsh order, he followed.

Despite their touch feeling cool upon contact, a strange warmth filled his body.

"It's alright," they sang. "You've worked hard."

"I can't tell you when your sister will be home, but the people are more than willing to lend their hand- If you're willing to accept."

"But if it's too hard, if you're too scared..."

"That's okay too."

Almost instinctively, his heart seemed to acknowledge the unspoken words.

"If you ever need to cry, I'm always there. Maybe not physically, but my creation is always listening."

~

You woke the next day to a slight feeling of sorrow, the same feeling of watching a movie and crying afterwards.

You wanted to comfort somebody, but didn't know who.

Something within you seemed to settle, as you acknowledged that things are alright now...

Now?

Was it ever wrong?

...

Maybe you can dream about it tonight.

Or maybe someone else will appear in your dreams...?

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.

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.

To Dream of Reality ~Mona~

“fate, and interpretation”

MASTERLIST

TWs: loneliness, headache, SERIOUS HEADACHE,

This one’s more focused on the effect of the Creator and their effect on the world, using Mona to tell the tale.

~~

Blaring city lights kept the night at bay, the darkness a mere shade compared to the devouring blackness that seemed to consume the world. And yet, the specks that had offered gentle light upon that night weren’t visible anymore. Constellations existed, but were not bright enough to be seen anymore, the gentle hope in the darkness vanished behind the brightness of electric lights.

You wondered if the stars had something in store for you, if the skies of your homeland had a place for you.

If Teyvat’s own skies could fit whole constellations for each of their children, then…

If you could only be there,

Maybe you would have a place to belong.

~~

Viator, Viatrix, Lepus, Tempus Fugit, Pavo Ocellus. 

The first five constellations to light up with the Creator’s sacred touch, the first to be blessed with the gift of becoming their loyal vessel.

Crater and Parma Cordis had lit up soon after, before the stars of Liyue began to light up alongside those from Mond. At first, Mona had assumed that the Creator only wished to bless those of Freedom and Contract, but as soon as the Traveler had traveled beyond the storm of Inazuma, Grus Nivis of the Kamisato Heiress had lit up.

The constellations had no particular pattern to their awakening, and the distribution of Stella Fortuna, the mysterious substance known to make a Vision Wielder's- an Allogene’s, if the drunkard bard was to be believed- constellation even stronger. It was thought that only the Creator could give Stella Fortuna, and that they distributed them to their most beloved Allogenes.

Master Ragnvindr had four, a child from Liyue had five, and some even had all their stars blessed.

Mona’s constellation still hadn’t been blessed by the Creator’s touch, much less gifted with a Stella Fortuna.

It was taboo to read one’s own constellation, so Mona never looked into it. 

She stood upon a lake, watching the reflection of stars in her water, each twitch and glimmer of the mysterious lights pulling her attention left and right.

10 lights began to move. 

It happened quite often, and together, one of those 10 lights would shatter, becoming weapons forged from long ago, and one would turn violet, carrying the Creator’s blessing or perhaps a stronger weapon.

It didn’t turn violet.

It burned gold.

Like Master Ragvindr and Acting-GrandMaster Gunnhildr… was she also seen as a “Gold Fortuna”?

The golden light enveloped Mona, and she felt Astrolabos respond. She felt the light in her body, the warm touch of a Divine behind her.

She moved to the Creator’s will, feeling the rush of excitement that the Creator surely felt as she dashed over-on top of the lake. Not swimming but gliding upon it.

It was… exhilarating.

~

The arrival of the Creator themself had alerted Mona one morning, a few days after Glory reported Their Grace’s sudden disappearance. 

“Your Grace?” She asked the stranger.

The Creator’s presence was absolute. None could ever hope to imitate it, nor could anyone deny it.

And yet, they looked so perfectly… normal.

Wings did not sprout from their back nor did their eyes appear like gems and stars, but they… they were human. Or appeared to be. 

“Yes?” they responded, at last. “Are you Mona Magistus?”

She nodded, hesitantly. 

“Could you read my fortune?”

Mona agreed. How could she not, as a request of the True Divine?

And all the same, how could she? Read into the stars and future for information about the star itself?

Nonetheless, she tried. 

Creator, a constellation named after who it represented, an Olde Teyvanese word so sacred, its name was unchanged when the Common-Tongue was established. A constellation spanning the entire night sky, even the stars that were not visible at the time. For a mere apprentice to attempt to read the fate of the world itself…

She saw.

The cold, lonely warmth of someone surrounded by people, yet always alone. Surrounded and spoken to, acknowledged but never embraced. Technology far superior to Teyvat’s own was everywhere, and despite it all, the Creator still seemed unsatisfied. Was this the Creator’s-

Her eyes began to burn.

Her head began to ache.

A jackhammer- why did she know what a jackhammer was- against her forehead. Light filled her sight and pierced through her eyes. It throbbed. Her eyes- her mind- it was too much. Too much. 

Mona’s hydro-bubble burst, water splashing against the ground.

“Are you okay?” The Creator asked, their hands grasping Mona’s own, sacred light flowing through her body.

“I- am fine, Your Grace. In terms of your future, it will one surrounded by those who will love you no matter what.” She responded. It wasn’t a lie.

She would make sure of it.

The Creator’s hands tightened slightly around hers.

“You promise?” they whispered, and Mona no longer saw a proud God, a true Divine. 

She saw a fragile person who only wanted to cradle their loved ones in their arms. One who wanted to spend time with their family. Not a god, but a mortal, a blasphemous thought to be sure. 

“Because I don’t want to go.”

And just like water, they slipped through her fingers and became nothing but a phantom touch.

~

Your eyelids peeled open, the night cold and chilling as it embraced you. You sat by the window, gazing emptily at what few stars you could see, longing for the warmth in your dreams. Like the volume of cotton candy melting to a sugary mass, your dream felt so heavy, yet you couldn’t grasp it.

You were lonely, you realized. The kind of loneliness you feel once you realize your friends are no longer here. But it’s been years. Why now, of all times, do you long for the friendly smile and smirk of a close friend…?

…

You’re tired.

Something about your dream captivates you even more than before.

A siren-song calling you to a place further away than even your dreams, beyond reality.

You want to go to sleep and sleep forever, but at the same time, you fear death.

…

It doesn’t matter.

Back to work.

There’s no time for sleep. 

No time for dreams.

Not when the city-lights outshine the night.

To Dream of Reality ~Lantern Rite ft. Ningguang~

"lantern rite, and festivities"

MASTERLIST ~~

You are not one to lucid dream.

Usually, your dreams are like those of a butterfly's-

Flying through the air, helpless to the winds that surround.

And yet, tonight, the world of your dreams is perfectly intact.

Lantern Rite in Liyue.

The golden lights, so warm in your eyes, floated around you, each lantern a wish sent off from someone, from someone's heart, from one of your beloved children of Teyvat.

The warmth from the lanterns, the sound of festival cheer, the smell of food…

It felt strangely like home.

A plate of freshly cooked skewers laid upon your lap as you sat on the harbor docks, your feet swinging gently off the pier.

This… was nice.

If only this was reality.

~~

Lantern Rite's main festivities had ended, the Concert bright and exciting. The remaining week was left to bask in the festival itself, in the musicals and operas, the food and lights and colors.

If the main stage was for tourists, the remaining festival was for the locals. Liyueans, with the streets cleared, were finally able to enjoy Lantern Rite as it was meant to be celebrated- to welcome the Moon in the New Year.

Most Lantern Rites after the Main Festivities were quiet, as was this one.

Until they appeared, in ethereal glory, asking for nothing but a snack.

The Creator had appeared many times before within Mond, and reportedly thrice within Liyue, consulting with the samurai from Inazuma, the strange man from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, and the Vigilant Yaksha.

Only once had the Creator appeared for non-vision wielders, and only a brief meeting.

As the Tianquan of the Qixing, Ningguang wanted to welcome the Creator, but as they appeared in their mortal form, would it be rude to call attention to them?

Rumors had it that the Creator was gentle and calm, appearing mortal yet undeniably divine.

As she saw them swinging their legs off the docs, humming along to the songs of the harbor, she understood. Just how mortal that form was, just how mortal they appeared.

Rumors had it that the Creator had not fully descended, that their form was partially transparent, and that their form was like that of glass. Ningguang had faith in those rumors, but perhaps the truth has merely changed. Their hand firmly grasped the skewers, their face opaque as they turned around, eyes widening as the stood to bow.

"Hi, Ningguang!" Perhaps the rumors weren't true after all. Perhaps the words of the Creator were not that formal, not that... forced. Perhaps this was what Mond wished to keep secret, the informal, gentle speech of the True Divine.

"You know my name?"

"Of course! Lantern Rite is so pretty this year... I'm glad I get to experience it for real this time. As real as I can be, here."

As real as I can be, huh?

Ningguang looked at the Divine, wondering what thoughts ran through their mind.

"I wish I could stay." they said, eyes soft as their hand reached out towards the sky. "I wish I could keep d̴̡̝͉͇̰̬͍̭̊̃͂͑̃̂̚͜͜͝r̶̛͉͈̂̔́̒͐̈́̋̊̒́̀̕͝è̸̢̙̝̼͖̹͔͎̄́̂̋̐͑̆́͌̊̐̆̈́̽ä̵̢̳͖̖̺͙̦̹̙̙̣̼́͊͛m̷̛̳͇̹̰̰͍̗̮͇͇͈̣͕͗̄̓͂̆̋͛̀͘ͅi̶̟̟̭̩̗̝̼̬̭̜̯̳̝̎̾͜ͅǹ̶͓̳͔͉̰̊̋̿̆͌͐̉̉́̂́̄̕g̸̢͎̱̖̻̝͉̖̟̅̉̓̂̒ of this place. Living here n' all."

It's strange, Ningguang thought. How mortal their divine sounds. How utterly human a God appears.

Until their body became transparent.

and they uttered another few words.

"How I wish to grant the wishes of Teyvat. How I wish to assist this world, how I wish to return home at last."

Their body shimmers, becoming the same color as the Xiao Lanterns, light reflecting off the ocean waters as they vanish. Ningguang raced back to the Jade Chamber, summoning pen and paper to draft a letter. The Creator wished to return home to Teyvat, and Teyvat would welcome them with open arms.

To prevent those heart wrenching words from being spoken again, she'd guarentee it.

~~

You rarely lucid dream, and on the lucky nights where you do get to control your sleep-thoughts, the control slips away just as fast. You remember your dream, for once. The taste of Mora Meat and Grilled Ticker Fish remain fresh in your memories as you looked out the windows, at the harsh white-light of cities and electricity.

Nothing like the golden lanterns of wishes that Y̶͕͑́̎̚ǫ̸̛̛͔͖̪̱̥̦̭͕̎̾͊̿̄͠u̴̟̦͈̺̤̫̣̲̼̅̋̈́͆̀̋̇̕͝r̵̨̗͎͕̄̃̀͑͒̋̓̀͑̊̒̌̅͜͠ ̷̢͇̩̰͓̳͈̖̲̝̞̝̦̇̑́̈̈́̅̓̔̎̍͂́̏͝b̵̢̢̜̪̼̩̭̺͔͕̤͇̥͊́͘e̸͓̙͚̩͈̲̤̎̒͒̿̈́̓͆̇͑̃̂̈́́̕͝l̵̳̫̟͋̏̏̓̏̈́͛͂́̕͠ǒ̵͉͖̹̼͚̗v̸̦͎̳̮̩̻̅̐̉͋̄́͒͘ȇ̶̱͖̆̿̊̐̌̍̀̀́̾͛̈́͒ď̶̡͖̹̺͓͇̬͎͇̒̽̒͗̈́̿̽ ̷̥̫͙̱̣̏̈́̔͘c̶̢̛̦̦̼͍̥̬̻͇̣̰̗̗̟̑̄͗̓̒͗̎̾̎̂̾h̸̨̯̝̲̏͘͜͠ì̵̘̳̞͚̃̏͛́̕l̶͔̳͉̺̠͔̣̥̳͋̃̄̅̂̊d̶̯͚̹̣̲̗̬̗̟͚̞̼̿̑͛͊͝͝͝r̶͍̳̄e̸̪̞͔̘̔̽̽̀͒̚ṉ̷̗̺̱̊͐̾̓̓̈́̽̎̓̃̀͘ ̷̫̹͚͓͂̽̕ọ̶̯͎͎̑̎̎̍̈̈́̈́̐͐̋̅͌̕͠f̶̨̡̡̧̛̛̞̹̰̻̩̺̟̱̣̬͊̈ͅ ̵̨̣͒̃̑̈͊͛̄̃̋͜͝͝T̸̢̪̟̰̠̞̙̘̬͍͆̾̂̿̾͗͑̋̑̓͝͝͝é̵̡̖̰̝̳͍̲̤̰͖̫̎̋̈́̉̓͑͜ẏ̶̨̨̺̱̣̺͎̖̙̘͈̭̐̉͊̈͆̆͊͑͘͠ͅv̴̬̮̘͂͌̀́͋́͝a̶̪͚͚̟̻̼͉͌̐̆̃ţ̵̢̧͉̳̘̖̤̓̈́͒̽̔̑͌̆̀̍́̃͂̉ had scent up to the skies.

...huh?