which of the playable characters or characters start off with self awareness? like how venti and zhongli already know about you/us as this weird unknowable god?
Ooooh, that’s actually a good question, nonnie. So for us, Genshin Impact is just a game like any other, but the characters themselves have a prewritten history/past that is influenced by how THIS specific version of the game is not quite right, how it’s somehow just utterly… wrong. The characters whose lores give them some glimpse into the reality of their world don’t exactly comprehend you or the makings of their world are, from most aware to least aware (before we get our hands on them and make them playable characters) are:
The Twins: They know they’re your vessels from the get go. They were built for you. Born for you. You are their reason for being and they worship the spark of your light in their minds. They don’t explicitly know that they’re characters in a gacha game, but they do know that they are puppets of your will- and this brings them pride and joy above all else. They know Teyvat was built for your entertainment and that the people in it, even the ones you pity enough to shine your light upon, are simply toys. False, inferior vessels who could not compare to either of them. As it is, these two are the most fully aware of their existence as puppets for your will and this world, this Teyvat, as a playground for your amusement/curiosity.
Archons: (Zhongli, Venti, Raiden, etc.) All of the archons are aware of your existence from the minute they are elevated to their positions. Is this knowledge a byproduct of their divine ascendancy? A side effect of obtaining a gnosis? Who knows- certainly not them. Though their reasons for revering you may vary, all of them are aware that there is something far above them. Above Celestia. Above the heavens themselves. This world was made for you- and they’re simply pawns in some game. Whether this knowledge fills them with delight or dread, well, that’s all up to personal interpretation.
Dainsleif: All of those from the fallen lands of Khaenri’ah know of you in some way or another. It was the land influenced by Lumine after she fell from your light, after all. As a member of the Eclipse Dynasty’s royal guard, and a companion to the fallen vessel, Dain was privy to quite a bit more information about you than most others. He does not revere you as those he once called compatriots do, but he does not hate you either. How could he when he can barely fathom the depths of your being?
Abyss Citizens: Lumine made it her mission to spread your light, even if it no longer reached her, to the people of Khaenri’ah. With what knowledge they had, illuminated by her teachings, they could no bear to worship those they were taught to recognize as false gods and attempted to overthrow those imposters in the hopes that this would make them more worthy of your influence. This, however, backfired and they were destroyed in the cataclysm. The amount of awareness each citizen of the abyss has varies, with simple monsters like Abyss Mages knowing much less than their Lecter/Herald comrades.
Albedo: As her greatest act of pride, Rhinedottir dreamed of creating another vessel capable of containing your light- it would be her greatest masterpiece. A mark of pride unlike any other. She would create a being worthy of your influence like the ‘pure vessel’ herself- or greater. More grand and beloved by the creator. With this goal in mind, she underwent attempts to bring about a homunculus that would be able to accept knowledge of you and the truth of this world of theirs without Lumine coming into contact with it- thus using what radiance of yours she had left inside of her to bring existential awareness to one of Rhine’s artificial humans. No, the great alchemist wanted to make something with her own hands capable of appeasing the great, unknowable god of her people. Her first attempt was a failure, as we know. He was imperfect and could not retain any knowledge of you, like the people of nations not her own. This first attempt was not even worth a name, and therefore especially unworthy of you- and so was thrown aside. Her next attempt faired better, and she named this one Albedo for he was not nearly perfect. No, it was you, the great unknowable radiance, that would make him perfect, and thus she named him. Though he could not fully grasp the breadth of knowledge that she was privy to, most of it sliding off his brain like water off a duck’s back, the fact that he could retain any information about you was proof of her great success. And so she left with him her hopes that her creation would one day be useful to the only existence that truly mattered to this broken world.
Childe: He fell into the Abyss as a boy and had to survive on his own. While there he was exposed to many of the remnants of the once great country of Khaenri’ah. His teacher would speak of a radiant darkness, a god above gods, and their vessel who had gifted the country with knowledge beyond that of mortals. While he was there, he was witness to a great many glimpses of your light and attained great existential awareness. After being brought back from the Abyss he found himself lost as your light grew dimmer with each passing day. Though he lacks the wealth of knowledge that others may have, he recognized himself as a vessel of yours during those days and awaited us, even unknowingly.
Mona: The stars are a chart. A great map of light that whispers the secrets of her world to her. She knows little about us and our existence, but she knows much of Teyvat as a playground. A source of… something for someone she cannot comprehend. Where many of the others know about the light of us and our existence, she knows about her world and how it came about. How it was put together, piece by piece, to reach this very destination. And she also knows that this world, her world, is… wrong. It’s an uneasy awareness, but it is awareness all the same.
Scaramouche/Signora: Each of the two have been in possession of a gnosis at one point or another. Though they are not archons themselves, being in contact with such an item blessed, or cursed, them with a semblance of existential awareness. Signora rejected this knowledge, too traumatized and bound to the tsaritsa to accept any of this heretical information. Scaramouche is… quite a different story altogether. Rather than following in the footsteps of his fellow harbinger and ignoring the glimpses of true awareness that the gnosis he’d taken attempted to show him, he reveled in this new world order. Unaware that there are others out there at this point who have been graced as your vessels, and others still who have created full belief systems based on what little they can grasp of you, Scaramouche fancies himself the one true believer. Your only acolyte and, thus, the only one worthy of you. He’d loathed how he had come to be in this world. A puppet with no purpose and a heart that was too heavy for his hollow chest to carry. But now? With this awareness? He devotes himself to the small flashes of your light, the twinkling remnants of a far star, that grace him. He thinks himself your perfect vessel. The one true bearer of your light. Scaramouche is low on the list of self aware characters because, while he does get glimpses of the truth, of our light, he doesn’t realize just how little is actually reaching him. He’s staring at shadow puppets and missing the world outside of the cave.
Lisa: There is a great treasury of forbidden knowledge within the hallowed libraries of Sumeru. As a top student and researcher for many years, Lisa was privy to much information that should have been lost to history. Though much of it was forgotten as quickly as it was read, as a future vessel of yours, she was able to obtain a very faint amount of existential awareness.
Kaeya: He’s dead last on this particular list because, before you start playing him, he has nearly zero awareness of your existence. However, thanks to the blood that flows through his veins, he does realize when things are a bit… off. At the very beginning, he’s one of the very few who notices your radiance engulfing Teyvat before he becomes your vessel.
As it is, the other characters do not come to realize the truth of their world until you possess them and start to use them as vessels for your will. And, even then, it isn’t until you have properly bonded with them that they come into your light.
Here is the first follow up to my Venti piece! For all of you who are curious, yes this is a mini series. I’m planning on writing a little bit for it every day as a warm up to my larger fics so expect more :D (which means I’ll be adding more to it everyday in my doc, not that I’m doing daily updates because… that’s more than I can handle lol). Please make sure to read my sidebar so you know what to expect from this blog. Also, these existential awareness posts will be mostly sfw in nature but I DO write nsfw and cannot promise that everything I write in this vein will be free of horny thoughts. I will tag accordingly for the post as well as in the masterlists. Tagging: @song-of-broken-pines
Self Aware Genshin Characters Masterlist
Warnings: Fourth Wall Breaks, Yandere
It was Guizhong, of course, who clued him in to your existence. At first he gets the impression that she worships a deity older than herself- a mentor to her in the same way she had been a mentor, of sorts, to him. When she sits a newly ascended Zhongli down and explains her beliefs about the world of Teyvat existing for your entertainment, he can’t help but find her delirious.
What is there to smile about? That’s the most painful and depressing thing he’s just about heard, and he’s literally a god of war.
Zhongli struggles with this revelation at first, unwilling to believe that he won his battles because some unknown being desires him to have done so.
The two of them remain at odds about it for many years, although their close bond endures despite. He does not see why she accepts your existence so easily- why she’s happy to have all of her hard work and perseverance written off as someone else’s whimsy.
Meeting Venti frustrates him as well, creating a small rift between the two of them. He could see in the airheaded bard’s eyes that he accepts your influence upon their world.
The anemo archon even seemed thankful to you. Like you hadn’t scripted the very misery and anguish he’d been forced to endure.
Zhongli is honestly baffled by all of this. It doesn’t make sense. Why should anyone be happy about this?
This goes on for thousands of years, him trying to do what he can to ignore that dreadful knowledge. He fights threats to Liyue. Sculpts mountains. Carves karsts and jeweled cliffs.
Then the day comes that Guizhong scatters. He holds her, bloody and breaking, and- smiling. At ease and peaceful with her fate. Accepting of her fate.
Zhongli can’t help but be overcome with frustration with her, even though he knows he shouldn’t- not now. But how could she be alright with this? Her creator, her writer, was tossing her aside. Tossing all of them aside- thousands upon thousands of lives.
Wasn’t it Guizhong who had taught him the value of a mortal’s life? Of all lives? What love could she have for a being who crushed more souls in a day than the god of war could in a year?
She tells him she doesn’t want to fight. Not today of all days. Maybe it’s hard to accept that he was always meant to win those battles. Maybe it hard to accept he was always meant to feel heartbreak and that burdensome grief. But she can’t help asking if he’s not happy to have known her and all of those whose paths he’s crossed until now.
What a gift, she tells him, to have been born for the purpose of meeting others. What a blessing it is to be given a heart with which to care so deeply and recklessly.
What a beautiful world to be written with so much love
What a marvelous god, to be so enamored with love as to make it the heart of their entertainment.
It’s only then that he breaks. It’s only then that the grit is polished away and he finally understands the blessing of your existence.
Guizhong is dead and gone, but she had meaning. Her existence hadn’t been for naught.
Even if he and her and everyone he cared for was to be eroded with time- they had meant something. This world would not be what it was if not for them. The bedrock of the world was each and every single person who had won his affection.
You had given them meaning. All of them. Even if it was just as background actors upon some great stage play you were watching. They were not lights flickering out in a void of existential nihilism.
What a blessing to have been born in a world built upon love.
What a blessing to have been born for someone.
Zhongli spends thousands of years becoming more attentive of the people of Liyue. Learning their names and customs. Memorizing their bloodlines and dreams. After all, you had given him this place as archon, the least he could do was get to know those who he was to preside over.
As he spends more time walking among his people, he gains a stronger appreciation for his place in the story that’s been set for him. You take so much away, but you give as well. He could not deny that there’s a grief that comes with losing those who were and continued to be beloved. Azhdaha. Guizhong. Sky Bracer. Countless others.
But, oh, what kindness it was to have been given the capacity for love. For loyalty. For honor. What a beautiful world to be written with so many splendid people to love and be loved by.
Zhongli develops a set of customs and rules for your existence. After all, it’s only proper to give thanks to one’s creator. Especially when blessed with so much fortune. He knows you do not reside within Celestia, but he hopes that when he lights lanterns that they may reach you. It’s actually due to a mortal accidentally stumbling upon this little ritual of his that the Lantern Rites begins.
He can’t bring himself to be upset when the mortals mistake the prayers he sends aloft to you as wishes and thanks. Not when they soon light the sky with hundreds of glimmering lanterns, turning the harbor into a sea of glowing lights. It’s beautiful. He hopes that wherever you are, that the sight of so many thriving people brings joy to your heart.
He hopes you know that he’s doing his best.
It comes as a rude awakening, a painful shock, when the bard waltzes into his harbor, sits across from him at the pavilion, and looks him in the eyes with the gaze of that very being he’s been praying to for the last thousands of years.
His throat feels dry as he speaks, his words sounding dull and hoarse- as if they had been scripted and he was only an actor. Zhongli can’t take his eyes off of Venti, off of you, barely acknowledging Childe as he addresses him.
When the meeting is over and the bard flutters off, shimmering with your effulgent being, he stumbles from the pavilion. His hands shake as he presses one to his mouth. His heart races with shock and disbelief as well a horrible, virulent-
Resentment.
It sits, bitter in his mouth as he makes his way back to his abode. His thoughts crash like a shower of stones in his mind.
Why had you reveled yourself to Venti before him? Was he not good enough? Had his prayers been lacking? Had he not shown devotion to his people? To you?
Or- was it that you were upset with his decision to cast off his role as protector and ruler of Liyue? Did you need him to continue? Surely not- why would you be playing at discovering the reason for his ‘death’ if you were?
So he settles on taking his time wandering around the edges. Zhongli is nothing if not patient. For a time, he assists you and whoever it is you have decided to grace with your guidance for the day.
It comes as another surprise to him when he realizes how… new your existence is. He catches you looking through the bard’s eyes with wonder over the wide breadth of Liyue. As if you had not been the very one to pull earth and ocean into form. A suspicion begins to form as he observes the way you interact with his country.
Maybe you hadn’t created this world.
Maybe it had been created for you.
Zhongli knows that you know who he is. That you know what he is capable of and what he has done. You look at him through a dozen different eyes but each set pierces into the very core of him.
You know him.
You always have.
He was yours, after all. He had been created for you, after all.
When Zhongli finally puts himself into your hands, it feels more right than he had ever imagined. Like he was placed where he had always been meant to be. Your presence flows through him like starlight and he can feel the press of your intentions when you move his body to your whim.
It’s breathtaking.
Unlike Venti, who enjoys messing with you from time to time, Zhongli likes to put himself wholly in your control. He finds it inappropriate when some of the others, like the bard, test your control for their own amusement- or due to a flawed sense of rebellion.
When his god tells him to move, he moves. When his god tells him to bleed, he offers up his spear and bows his head.
Of course, he doesn’t have that same belief in obedience as it relates to his previous rule over the people of Liyue. He doesn’t usually approve of double standards, but for you he’ll make an exception.
Zhongli takes great pride in his place on your team. To be so close to his god is an honor that he does not take lightly. However, even he cannot help the bite of curiosity. The hunger to be even nearer to the sole reason he had been born.
It starts off innocuous enough. The Lantern Rite begins and he can’t help but deliver a lantern directly to you this time. Why would he need to send a lantern into the sky when his god was at his side?
You think it’s a super cute in game bonus of sorts at first. A themed gift from one of your favorite characters! Awesome!
But the contents are a little… worrying. Uncomfortable. The tone is sweet enough but something about it sends a shiver up your spine and you can’t help but feel like Zhongli’s character model stares directly at you for a second whenever you encounter him in game or use him afterwards.
That being said, he’s startled when you take the time to care for him. You read over his voicelines/story and he can feel your sympathy for him like a pang in the chest. When you take him to the top of Mt. Aocang and take note of the table where he had once sat with Guizhong and Sky bracer, he feels your sadness beside his own.
It’s… unnerving for him at first. Getting used to you as you are instead of as what he’s projected you to be. Given his age, he’s had a lot of time to muse about his world and the purpose for which it was crafted. There is no one who has lived with this existential knowledge for as long as him, save for Venti. And, well, he’s not in much agreement with Venti’s takes.
The bard had spent eons talking about how it didn’t matter that there was a being above them that had crafted and could pilot them. He openly spoke of there being freedom in the lack of matter. He found joy in what he perceived to be the vastness of their shared reality.
Zhongli relied upon the bedrock of meaning. He did not find any comfort or relief in the belief that their fates were untethered and occasionally steered. He rooted his belief in your benevolence. In your kindness. The world had been filled with grief and loss and bloodshed, yes, but it also overflowed with beauty. Kindness. Love. Loyalty. Because of you.
He had found meaning in the radical euphoria of shared work and one’s desire to give back what they they taken. He looked into the faces of of the people who had made his long life sweet and seen his god.
He’d seen you.
Despite the occasional odd thing he does, mostly unique voicelines that sound almost as if he’s musing to himself- almost-, Zhongli doesn’t really register as a strange character the way your other companions might. He doesn’t take control from you the way Venti does when you equip him with a harp. He doesn’t address you directly the way Fishl does- or demand your attention like Childe.
It is his belief that there is a proper way to interact with one’s god and he is loathe to step out of line.
In contrast to some of the others, he comes across as almost…normal. But don’t be fooled, he’s patient and had a long time to devolve into a cult like devotion to you. After completing his final contract, he only wishes to walk amongst his people and be used by you. When he’s not at your order, he enjoys wandering the city and doing his job.
He’s patient and he doesn’t push you much, if at all. Zhongli knows you need him. Knows that, even weakened as he is, his skill set is unparalleled in its utility. When you take the time to raise him back to a shadow of his former power, he’s filled with pride.
He just wants to prove himself as a capable and devoted follower to his god. A proper and trustworthy devotee, deserving of your praise and notice.
You are, after the reason for this world’s existence. You are the reason for love. You are the reason for kindness. You are the reason for friendship.
You are the meaning behind everything and everyone.
The view from Mt. Aocang is always lovely. For thousands of years, he had watched the sunset from upon that jagged peak, and it still did not fail to take his breath away. Eyes upon the opalescent horizon, he speaks absent mindedly, the words often on his lips as he finds himself lost in thoughts.
“…but where are those who share the memory?”
But this time is different. This time you’re wrapped around his heart like an embracing mist. Your thoughts lying gentle upon his as he tethers himself to you. The turn of your mood comes as a surprise. There’s a distinct difference between the two of you, your differing thoughts and feelings not melding together but gently mingling. Not a single chimeric creature, but as if two beings embracing. He still struggles beneath the weight of your emotions upon his. Not because he finds them overbearing. They’re just- strange. Alien. Almost like those of the mortals he had spent a lifetime guiding and protecting. Maybe even like his. He had not expected you to be so similar. So capable of the same range of emotions.
But of course you are. Why would he be capable of such feelings if his god, too, could not experience them?
Apprehension prickles Zhongli’s spine as you move him closer to the table, now partially submerged in the small pond. He’s unsure of what you want when you seat him in place. The warm press of your existence shifts and he feels as if you are looking directly at his face. It is as if you- he smiles in realization. As if you are trying to seat yourself across from him at the small table. Keeping him company where those who once did no longer could. Your emotions flicker like stars inside of him.
Sympathy. Sadness. Compassion.
Zhongli wishes he had the audacity to speak to you- but the words never fail to die in his throat. They sit on his tongue like venom and settle like smoke. He has the utmost respect for the propriety with which he must act around you. And yet- he cannot help but envy the ease with which some of the others bend the rules. Or in some cases, openly break them.
But now, especially, he wishes that he could say something so that you knew the words were for you.
He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay. He’s okay.
You’re here now.
He’s alright.
In the face of such a kind god, unlike what he had expected, it’s hard for the former archon to find the words to describe how he feels. It’s harder still for him to break through the shroud that keeps the two of you worlds apart even as you inhabit his form.
He had expected a stern and all knowing god. A practiced ruler who would lord over the world they had created and wished to watch. You were neither. Every sunset upon the harbor seemed to bring joy to your heart. Standing within the boughs of the tree that marked Azhdaha’s grave filled him with your wonder. And if you breathed alike, he felt such a way that he believed the Lantern Rite had taken your breath away with its beauty.
When you had revealed yourself before him, kind and caring and strong, he had felt a fool. How could he have ever thought himself worthy of knowing you before now? He had made himself a jester for thinking that he could know you then the way he knows you now. His god had filled the world with so much beauty, of course they too were beautiful.
So he lets the bile rise in his throat. Lets his tongue sizzle and burn in his mouth as he musters his willpower.
Zhongli was a god of war. Zhongli was a god of geo. Zhongli was of the seven, and among them, the oldest.
Zhongli is millenia. He is rock and earth and prosperity. He is the diamond mountain.
And so he bends the curtain to pull himself closer to his god, his savior, his meaning- because even if it feels like sacrilege, even if it tastes of blasphemy, he cannot bear the burden of being the cause of your sadness. He would take your rage over your tears.
Zhongli breathes in and the universe holds its breath. Zhongli opens his mouth and the universe bends to his will. Zhongli speaks and, breaking through space and time and the laws of many worlds at once- reaches his god.
“Nothing would honor me more than to share osmanthus wine and create new memories together with you.”
Surprise bitches I actually have content for this AU lmao. My uh, my favoritism really shines bright here. I am so sorry.
Self Aware Genshin AU Masterlist
Warnings: Yandere, Codependence, Fourth Wall Breaking, He’s... a lot
Khaenri’ah may be dead and buried but its sins live on in the bloodlines of the wretches who once called it home, carving men into monsters and haunted houses from hallowed hearths.
Few are able to stand outside of the curse falling upon the progeny of those who once called that tainted land home.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
It’s a sharp mind. A good mind. Cunning. Capable. Woefully prone to suspicion, yes, but an asset he knows he can rely on even when steel goes dull and the light of his vision grows dim.
If a body is a home for the spirit then his is haunted. Haunted by lies. Haunted by betrayal. Haunted by the essence of things he doesn’t dare put to words for fear that to speak their names would be to draw their notice.
And above all else, it is haunted by him.
If a body is a home then his is an edifice- a testament to what happens when love moves out of a place only ever meant to house it. A testament to abandonment. To loss. To hunger and longing.
The halls of his body are vacant and cold. His rooms lie covered in frost and are cavernous with loneliness. There is a fireplace in the hollow shell of his chest but he remembers the last time it had been lit. How brightly it had shone and how quickly it had burned.
His walls are still covered in ashes and scars from that time.
The body of him is still charred. Still smoldering.
Look, the scars and bleeding heart of him seem to demand.
This is the house that love built.
This is the house that love abandoned.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
There is a luminous haze that has settled over Mondstadt. It was brought by the traveler- Aether he calls himself. He’s… he’s sure it had been brought by the traveler. Kaeya hadn’t seen it until the blond boy had darkened his city’s doorstep. He’d witnessed it draped across those slim shoulders first. It had shimmered, almost like light off the ripples of a lake, which had been notably strange considering the storm wreathed sky.
It had been like stardust given form. Glittering. Glimmering. So ethereal he had thought it was a hallucination. So beautiful he had prayed it wasn’t.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
A chill prickled along his spine when he noticed one day that Amber, too, had begun to wear that shroud. It had come for her early. Earliest. The first vessel (or was she prisoner? Or… was she enlightened?)of what he would eventually learn was legion. He continued to catch glimpses of it and her, bright eyed and veiled in an opalescent haze. She’seemed unaware of the the veil. Or maybe unbothered.
Sometimes he noticed the way she’d stare at her hands when the air around her cleared and Amber was just… Amber. He’d catch the longing in her gaze. The eager impatience. As if she was awaiting… something. He had asked her and she’d been so genuinely confused looking up at him.
She was waiting for peace. For calm.
She was waiting for divinity.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
Lisa goes next into that glittering, shimmering abyss.
Like Amber before her, she too becomes enveloped in that moonlit mist and he cannot help noticing the surge of energy that seems to dazzle within her. He knows Lisa.
Or, he had known her.
Lisa, for all her great knowledge, wasn’t the type to seek out adventure. Wasn’t the type to leave her comfortable library with its plush chairs and plentiful tea breaks in favor of seeking out the unknown amidst the wilderness.
He knows that her knowledge is dark. Esoteric. She has been privy to great and terrible teachings during her time at Sumeru. The librarian would be the last person to welcome in the thrall of some nameless force. The librarian would be the most capable person of pushing away such a being.
But she doesn’t.
Kaeya remembers the last time he had been so scared as when he had seen Lisa with starlight in her eyes and a mist of opalescent beauty upon her shoulders.
This is wrong. It- it has to be wrong. There’s no way Lisa Minci of all people would be out adventuring of her own will. Of her own accord. People would notice. Surely. Others would notice. Would speak of how oddly she was behaving.
But no one notices. Not like Kaeya. The knight sees it all and cannot help wishing he couldn’t. He wishes that he could be as indifferent and blind as the rest of them. As Lisa, as Amber, as Jean, as each and every citizen of Mondstadt blessed to not be him.
Lisa wanders the wilds and the world goes on. Lisa battles hilchurls and the world goes on. Lisa fights the anemostasis over and over and over- and the world goes on. Lisa runs errand after errand, never making time to return to her beloved library- and the world goes on.
But it’s wrong. The world is spinning wrong. Everything is wrong.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
There is no fighting destiny. Not when it’s been written like this.
And you, oh you, are inevitable.
When his eyes open there is a mist of dark starlight that shimmers before him. It’s a shadow that glows. A darkness that pulses with brilliance. Radiant and stygian- as if all of the void of the night sky has descended to veil him.
That first time, everything goes quiet. Everything goes still. He is there and there and then he is not.
It is peace.
It is calm
It is divinity.
And it is only later that he awakens. Dazed and confused. Quietly tucked away in his bed, clothes awry like he had stumbled into his room after a long night at Angel’s Share.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
If a body is a home for the spirit then his is haunted. The halls are vacant and cold. The rooms are covered in frost and cavernous with loneliness. There is a fireplace and- within it are the remnants of some gentle warmth.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
So he makes sure to lock the doors and draw the curtains. Makes sure to make the house haunted by his spirit every bit the desolate holding it is.
Who would want to live in such a place?
When you return he braces himself for the blow. For the shuddering of doors forced open and windows pried from their resting places.
It’s a futile endeavor. A wasteful endeavor.
Because you do not descend upon him in a savage frenzy. You are not a rain of fists upon a locked door. You are not an intrusion. You are not an invasion.
He braces himself for you.
And there is nothing to brace for- as sunlight seeps through snow, you seep into him.
You knock upon the door of his haunted body and the locks come undone. You knock on his door and you are the key. You knock on his door and it is not a matter of if he will let you in but how quickly can he let you in.
You knock on his door and he feels the words in some long quiet part of his mind.
Welcome home. Welcome home. Welcome home.
He has been waiting for you for so long.
Through the haunted halls of his body you walk as if you already know each crevice. You sit in front of his hearth and with celestial hands, you place the warmth of a dying star into that frozen, lonesome heart.
If a body is a home then his is haunted. The halls host the humming of a small god and the warmth of your radiance. The rooms are lit by the twinkle of galaxies. You curl close in that gentle light, take a seat in those once lonely rooms, and it is as intimate as the embrace of dozing lovers.
If a body is a home then his spirit no longer wanders his without companionship. Without another to wander beside him. It should be terrifying. He knows it should be.
A body is meant to be lived in by one’s self.
But he doesn’t want to be alone any longer.
He is so tired of being alone.
He’s not scared to have you in this place meant just for him- it is yours as well. Has always been yours.
Kaeya fears he may be losing his mind.
Kaeya fears being a haunted house of a man even more.
It is submission.
It is devotion.
It is worship.
It is love.
You leave eventually. Everyone does. You’re no different.
You tend to his fireplace, bring him your warmth that only serves to exacerbate the sting of the cold when those starlight flames die out and he is left with just himself once more. Left alone to wander. To haunt. To dream.
And his dreams are endless- filled with you and you and you. If he cannot have you waking he will have you sleeping. He will have you with sweet wine on his lips and eyes closed.
He dreams of the satisfaction, of the peace, that would come with locking the doors behind you and sealing you inside. Of never letting you leave again. He knows he can make the halls of his body more welcoming. Make the rooms lovely and tailored to your preferences.
What would it take to make you stay?
Could he make you stay? Close the doors behind you and seal them shut so you could never again slip away into that lonesome night? So that he would never again be left to root- his heart freezing over with frost and his thoughts trapped in cobweb and dust.
It feels like sacrilege to even ponder such an idea. Like some great betrayal- but he knows he could keep you safe. Keep you comfortable. Keep you happy.
You would be loved if you just stayed. If you took a seat at his heart and never again got up to leave.
You would be loved even if you left- but would he?
Kaeya feels like he was made for you. Maybe… maybe he had been born for you. To house and help. To lock the vast cruelty of the world out.
It takes some time, but he eventually comes to realize that you aren’t of this place. He is the first to gain true self awareness, of those who are not of divine parentage, and the first to see you for what you are.
He knows he exists for you and that you are not of this place. The world bends far too easily for you not to be some grand god- some divine force beyond his comprehension even above the seven archons. Kaeya knows of spirits and demons, of tales from lands both near and far of spirits stealing bodies and human brainwashing one another. But you don’t feel like possession. You don’t feel like his mind being wiped clean and filled with the scribblings of some lesser god.
You slip inside of him and it feels like a perfect fit. Like he’d been sculpted for you- some hollow space deep inside finally being made whole and put at peace.
He can feel your amusement with every action you take and he comes to the realization that this may all be some kind of game to you. You may join him and the others in Teyvat simply to pass your time. With them.
He knows that he should be angry. He should be spiteful. He should disdain you and that fact that all of his suffering was for you. That his misery had been inescapable and he had been broken- for you.
He should hate you.
But he can’t bring himself to be anything more than just…
Bitter. Lonely.
Cold.
It’s easier when you’re with him. When he can feel you keeping the freezing heart of him warm in the glow of your radiance.
It’s easier to accept his past when you are by his side. It’s easier to let the pain and loneliness melt away and fill himself with the gentle warmth of your existence.
Though he wishes he could lock you in, keep you buried deep inside so that the two of you could forever be at peace- he can’t. As it is, all dreams must come to an end. All good things must come to an end. All happiness must come to an end.
You slip through his fingers like everyone else and he can only pray that you return to him. That you remember the way back.
He leaves the doors open. Leaves the lights on.
Come back, he begs of you silently even as he moves through his scripted world.
Come back. Back to where he haunts. Back to the body built for you.
Come back to him and bring/make him home again.
Kaeya is not a particularly independent vessel. If there isn’t some scheme or plot he’s working on, he finds himself unbearably hungry for your presence. Which is to say, if he isn’t busy trying to figure out a way to bring you closer, to bind you to him, then he’s busy thinking about you. About him. About what you have done to him. About what he’s done to himself.
He would have understood having to bear the weight of a couple tragedies. Everyone loses their parents eventually. Everyone has to grow up and change eventually. But he had been given so much loss. So much suffering.
What had he done to deserve your cruelty? Your wrath?
Did you know of compassion? What had he done to turn it against him?
Why did you hate him so?
Did you know of what you had done to him?
The questions are bitter, settling cruelly over his thoughts the longer you are away. What was his sin? What had been so wrong with him that he had deserved such trauma- such heartbreak?
And why him? Why had he had to suffer? Out of all the thousands of people of Teyvat did it have to be him? Of all the people who had to be broken beneath the mallet of some grand design, why was it he who had to be a child of the cursed ones of Khaenri’ah? Why was it so paramount that he be abandoned time and time and time again?
It isn’t until you come home that he can finally clear away the muck. With your presence around him, guiding him, gentling him he finally understands.
Once the bond between the two of you snaps into place, he finally understands that all of his misery had been for you.
He had been made for you. Every part of him. All of it. Over and over until finally he was perfect for you.
Until finally he was truly worthy of being your vessel.
Everything had been for the sake of his god. His master. The one who brought warmth to the cold shelter of his body and made him into a home.
If he must suffer, he thinks, then he is happy that it was for you.
If he must be miserable, he thinks, then it is best if he be miserable for you.
If pain is tantamount to worship then there is no acolyte more devoted, no vessel more worthy, than him.
Please be careful with this one. A self aware Kaeya is a dangerous man and an even more dangerous worshipper.
He is spectacularly self aware. Between the sharpness of his mind and the gifts bestowed upon his blood from the sins of Khaenri’ah, this man is at the center of every scheme to bring you closer.
Though Kaeya plays nice with all of the factions, never doubt that his intentions are ultimately selfish. If he cannot spiritually chain you inside of him then he will find a way to physically chain you to him.
Thus, he spends all of his time not being your vessel devoted to helping one faction or another find a way to bind you to physical form in their world.
That being said, he’s doesn’t flamboyantly show this off to you. No, he needs you unaware of what he’s doing because he knows his desires are tantamount to blasphemy of the highest degree.
Unlike Fischl who flagrantly interacts with you, he’s quiet and more reserved. You’ll find that he only really speaks the lines that are given to him or act in ways that are well documented by every other player.
However, if you really want to catch him slipping up, keep him off of your team for a while. Don’t interact in any way. Don’t look at his character sheet, don’t play as him, don’t listen to his lines. Leave him well and truly alone.
When you do come back, be prepared for his bitterness and cold shoulder.
There’s none of his casual laughter in his dialogue any more. His tone is decidedly hostile and, sometimes- sometimes it feels like he’s glaring directly at you through the screen. His strange diamond pupil eye focused on you when the camera rotates to look at him.
Put plainly, he spends a little bit of time sulking. Oh, he’s very happy you’re back and you’ve chosen him to be your vessel once again- but he’s very annoyed with you. For the first couple of minutes he’ll grouse around by acting the perfect vessel. Nothing weird. Nothing unusual. But, the longer you play, the less capable he becomes at holding in his scorn at your long absence.
This manifests in snappy, sarcastic quips and a refusal to use his vision in the ways you want when you want.
He doesn’t fear death or injury when you’re with him. This body was made for you after all, and though he’s not particularly eager to admit it, nothing would bring him more satisfaction that to see it marred by your will. Each scar, each ache, a testament to his devotion and your favor.
Of course, if you’ve been particularly cruel and kept away from him for very long, you’ll be greeted with a snappy, “Finally ready?”
Luckily, he can’t seem to hold a grudge against you and the cold shoulder passes relatively quickly.
Though he falls into the more sulky, demanding category of your followers, he comes off as being less so than he actually is. This is because if you’ve been using him too much/long then he starts to act up again. Don’t worry, he still love you. Still worships you with every fiber of his being. He just wants to get back to his work.
No, it’s nothing to do with the knights.
In fact, you’re really better off not knowing exactly what he spends his time away from you doing for the various other factions who share his dream of bringing you home.
The house of religion was never a cloister to which Kaeya had dared attempt to find sanctuary. From the beginning, a child burdened with the blood of a cursed nation, he’d known that such a place was not meant for those like him. And then later, a young man abandoned in every form by the family he had believed himself finally worthy of, he had lost everything- including any faith he had scrounged for himself. Over and over again it had been made clear that he was destined for dereliction.
Freedom was not for him. Forgiveness was not for him. Contentment was not for him.
And even if they were, even if by some grace he could grasp such comforts by the skin of his teeth, he would not bring himself to worship a divine being who he could not help but believe looked upon him with such cruel disdain as to be so evident upon the edifice of his fate. Upon the heartbreak that marked each milestone of his past.
No, Kaeya’s church had been the hardwood bar top of the many taverns that sat upon every corner of Mondstadt. Worship had been taken in the gleam of mora and the bittersweet tang of wine. His god had made itself known in the balmy hum of alcohol that kept him together amidst the emptiness of the man he had become. And for his devotion Kaeya received the greatest blessing of all- a head wiped clean of burdens. A sleep so quiet as to be untouched by dream or nightmare- a calm wrought with grape stained lips and heaving guts.
Or, at least, that’s what he had once believed.
He had not known warmth, not truly, until you had come to him and made him your home. Had not known peace until you curled in his chest, the beat of his very heart, and erased every moment of doubt- every flicker of fear and pain- from his soul. You had revealed yourself to him, a burst of starlight that echoed the birth of the universe, and found him worthy. Found him safe. Found him a sanctuary.
And he could not help but love you for it.
He isn’t alone anymore. Not with you, a glimmer of distant and cherished starshine, in the world. Even when he isn’t being used as your divine vessel he can feel the pulse of you in his chest, holding the cold sting of indifference and loneliness at bay.
Wine doesn’t taste the same with the scent of you on the wind. Your love is so sweet it curdles the sweet juice on his tongue until all he craves is you. Sleep is not an escape, not anymore- not if he is there without you.
Kaeya had been born and molded for you. A house built for your light and warmth- left only to freeze in your absence. His hallways growing dark. His rooms covered in creeping fingers of frost. His foundations worn and heavy against freezing earth where joy once lived- now as barren as the rest of him.
What happens to a dwelling abandoned? A home left to rot? Deserted once its convenience proved less than the effort of staying within it- of keeping it alive.
It grows lonesome. Heart pounding each eve as it hopes beyond hope that someone has come back to it. Relief and sweet joy soaring- believing, for a moment, ‘I am not alone anymore, someone has come home to me’- only for the wound to be prodded. Only to be crushed when the noises echoing in its halls are simply its own fatigue as the hurt repeats as many times as needed by its foolish and aching heart.
It grows haunted. Seeking voices in the dark. Seeking faces in rooms where smiles once danced beside feet and fingers. Praying that a light turns on just to prove that it is no longer lost to its own madness.
It grows hungry. It grows resentful. It grows- and it grows, metastasizing pain and loneliness and rot until it demands of itself and the world ‘What did I do wrong?’
‘Why did you leave me?’
‘What must I do to bring you back and bring me home?’
Even now the questions crackle in the back of Kaeya’s thoughts like sea ice, interrupting the otherwise steady hum of his working mind.
You have been gone so very long.
And he has grown so very, very cold.
He leans back against the railing, his single uncovered eye focused on stars that dance behind a shifting veil of clouds. Their light is pale and paltry in comparison to your radiance, a poor imitation of what he knows is out there. You in your shining glory. You in your brilliant warmth.
You and you and you.
It is lonely to watch the night sky without you. Lonelier still to dwell upon the sensation of comfort that had so completely encompassed him when you had made a vessel of his body. A home of his heart.
What would it take to keep you there, tucked away inside of him?
Kaeya had never been much one for religion. It had never been meant for him. But he thinks of you and it feels only right to worship. To adore and revere above wine and bread. There is joy in submission. In crawling to you on hands and knees. You are light. You are warmth. You are the setting sun and the watchful moon. You are love.
Which only serves to make the hollow well of his thoughts when he is denied you feel like sacrilege. When he thinks of what he wishes to do- binding you to flesh so that he may bind himself to you, so that he may well and finally bring you home- it burns of betrayal. The thoughts settle upon his mind and he knows them for what they are.
Felt like working on something other than a set of headcanons so I wrote this. Some of your cult are willing to trespass their mortal authority and risk your displeasure.
Fandom: Genshin Impact- SAGAU
Word Count: 1k
Tags/Warnings: Yandere, Cult Behavior,
SAGAU Masterlist
Kaeya supposes that maybe he’s getting a little reckless. It’s not like him, of course- but could anyone blame him? He’s been left alone to his own devices for so very long and it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone he knows that his devices are complicated. Mortiferous. Bordering on ghastly and with a penchant for being undeniably overzealous. Which isn’t to say he cares much about the opinions of others. He doesn’t anymore than he needs to keep his reputation clean enough to make moving through the mindless masses without trouble. No, the only judgment he cares for is that of his god’s.
In the light of your divine assessment, the bearings of others lose all mooring. But it’s been a week since you’ve come home and he’s starting to feel like a loose end. Like he’s unraveling.
Oh, you’ve been around. Saving other countries. Running commissions. Beating up hilichurls and wandering nobushi at will. But you haven’t come home in a long while. Too busy adventuring with your new companions for now, lost in the momentary thrill of new vessels to play with.
Oh, he’s not jealous. Of course not. He’s not seething with envy and distaste. Why would he be? He’s been so very busy.
And for who’s sake? Who else would he care to dedicate such time, such effort to? Who else would he be willing to take himself to such danger and extremes for? Everything, all of it, is for you.
Of course.
Between Fischl’s enigmatic requests and Albedo’s demands, the calvary captain’s been up to his ears with duties. Buisness. Not official knight’s jobs, though he readily masks it as such- but important nonetheless. Jean doesn’t notice. And if she does she doesn’t care. And if she cares she doesn’t do anything about it. About him. That’s fine with Kaeya. It works best this way for him, the state of how things are now. It serves to give him a certain amount of liberty, of opportunity.
The blissful ignorance of the masses allows him cover and your inattentiveness gives him time. Time to inspect and discover. Time to study and infiltrate. Time to work.
This is all to say, his effort is a mark of devotion towards you. There is nothing and no one more worthy of his single minded attentions. He’s pretty sure that there’s no one else worthy at all.
But it has been a week since you’ve come home and he is losing his patience. He is losing his focus. He is losing his cool.
The pulse of you can be felt, far off, in the back of his mind and it’s enough for him keep the craving at bay for now. It won’t last forever. It won’t even last much longer, but for now it is enough for him to finish up here.
Knees crack as he crouches amongst the forms. Inspecting each one, his lips purse in dissatisfaction. These fruitless gathering missions the little princess sends him on would be decidedly less troublesome if Fischl would come herself to pick out her ‘mystic components’ instead of rejecting most, if not all, of what the cavalry captain was able to sneak back to her. It wasn’t like she even knew what she was so desperately looking for outside of describing it to him as ‘something that moves her as the dark master does’.
“What a waste,” Kaeya sighs, browsing through the mess of parts. The girl had sworn there would be something worth using here, but she’d been wrong. Your devoted vessel continues to look upon the plethora of resources laid before him and is disgusted to find that he cannot sense so much as an echo of your radiance amongst them. It is a harvest as rotten as the ones that had come before.
His mood sours further and he grits his teeth. With a deep inhale, Kaeya taps the flat of his blade contemplatively against the side of leg. They’re going about this all wrong, he thinks. The girl and her congregation of equally keen, but ultimately sloppy and poorly thought out, adventurers needs something more concrete than feeling alone. They need a plan. They need a method to pull together their madness.
They need a mind and, outside of his own, he can think of one other as devoted to your radiance. One other who dares trespass upon the laws of Teyvat the way the cursed bloodlines of Khaenri’ah once had.
His mind wanders to the alchemist and his assistant as he contemplates a next step for the ragtag group of misfits. Something not so frenzied or uncoordinated. Albedo had been awfully quiet the last time Kaeya had been around and he’d caught the scientist’s poor attempts at tucking odds and ends out of his sight.
In that moment he decides that he should pay his fellow knight a visit soon. There would be no need for formalities of course, after all, weren’t they friends?
Brothers in arms?
In ambition?
A smile breaks upon his crimson flecked face and he places his free hand to his chest. A warmth, your warmth, blossoms there. Calling him home. A grin and a tune play on his lips as he sheathes his blade and wipes the blood from his visage.
His god has returned and he is not one to resist your draw. He would not even if he could.
So he closes his eyes and when they open it is to a see of starlight and dancing lights. He considers teasing you- considers sharing with you the ways in which he has sought divinity, if only to bring himself closer to you. To your celestial radiance. Kaeya thinks better of it. He’s been reckless, yes, but he will not sabotage himself. Instead he settles on something mundane. Something simple.
Profound enough to make his presence known and unassuming enough that he would not give himself away.
With your warmth like sunshine upon fresh snowfall, melting away the chill of your absence, he chuckles. All he does, he does for you. For you. For you. For you. Always you.
Ah yes... a new miniseries... I was inspired by THIS post pointing out that Dainsleif always looks into the camera when you take a picture of him. I thought it was a little creepy and a little fun and it really sent the rat in my brain nutter butters. Anyways, here’s the first part of what I’ve got brewing. Initially, I wanted to do a post that encompassed all of the archons but at 2K, it was kind of impossible for me to do a headcanon post for Zhongli as well. So here’s just Venti for now.
Self Aware Genshin Characters Masterlist
Warnings: Fourth wall breaks, Yandere,
It’s painful- no, pitiful- how quickly he accepts your existence. The moment Venti rises to godhood and learns that he exists in a world that is played out for someone else, he falls into his role.
Traumatized and aching from the loss of his dearest friend, and so many others who only ever wished to be free of tyranny, he tells himself that he had done all he could and even the stars, even the fates themselves, had made it clear that there were some things that no man, woman, or spirit could do.
He had not wronged anyone by being too weak or too slow to save them. It simply hadn’t been meant to be.
The death of the young man Venti had loved so ardently had been inevitable. It had been preordained, written into the very stars and synapses of the universe.
There was an inevitability, an undeniability, to what had happened.
He did not bear the weight of all those souls upon his shoulders.
Your existence freed him from guilt.
Your existence freed him from burden.
Mondstadt’s future does not lie upon his shoulders, but yours. He need only watch over and nurture. He need only guide the people where needed. If their fair city crumbled or thrived did not depend upon his actions alone. There was a god even above him who bore the true weight of responsibility.
Rather than being chained to nihilism or hopelessness by the insignificance of his actions, he finds himself freed. He can take his time to grieve. To sing. To write silly songs and play meaningless games with his people. In a world where nothing matters, where his attempts make no real impact, why not be happy? Why not do what brings him joy?
There are moments when other archons come to him, young and afraid and shaken with the cosmic knowledge of the limitations binding their very existence. How much of them is actually them? Do they truly exist, or are they just piloted slabs of meat?
Does it matter?
The mortals think that the gods carved the very earth itself. And, to be fair, they had. So why shouldn’t a higher being than even the gods have crafted the universe?
He tells them, grin on his lips and horror in their eyes, that it doesn’t matter. It never did. On the grand scale, nothing he or they or anyone does matters. So why not take a seat and enjoy some lovely music? Why not indulge in a good apple pie and watch the sunset? Why not slow down to talk to strangers on the street and be kind?
And it’s not like you lord your will over him or his people. For thousands upon thousands of years, he feels with an almost certainty that his actions are his own. Maybe guided by some unknowable force, but still. He’s feels no more a puppet to a greater will than those people who he gifts with a vision.
Venti eats an apple because he wants to. Stops by the winery because he feels like it. He does not stay in Mondstadt because he is burdened with the wellfare of its people or guilted by bloodshed. Venti stays in Mondstadt because he likes it. Because it makes him happy. And surely that’s freedom, right? At the very least, it’s contentment.
However, he would never admit it to the old fossil man or the new archon babies, but there’s definitely afear in the back of his mind that maybe he’s not actually free. Maybe he’s a puppet that doesn’t even know he’s dancing on strings.
The thought doesn’t linger long though. If the day comes that he truly comes to realize he’s a toy, then all the more reason to enjoy today. All the more reason to bask in sunshine and gentle breezes.
Does the bird in the aviary know freedom? Maybe it assumes that the whisper of a breeze coming through a cracked window is a hurricane. Maybe it assumes the pale light coming through slats of glass to be the warmth of the sun.
It’s happiness is all its own, nonetheless.
It isn’t until thousands of years later, when you finally show up that he understands that all of his fears were unfounded.
He meets a strange looking traveler with lost, doe eyes. Glistening and almost vacant. They babble about their missing sibling- but it’s not the traveler that catches his attention. It’s the pulse of something old but undeniably new. A young divinity that shimmers around this stranger like a mirage.
It’s you.
He stands in the presence of his god.
And he’s lost for words.
Or not you, not really. If you could ask him, after all this is out of the way, he’ll tell you most assuredly that when he first met the traveler, it had only been a hint of you.
If you were a fire, what he had perceived could only be smoke.
He lays his eyes upon the traveler and he doesn’t see them. He never sees them. He only sees you, staring out back at him.
Venti wonders that night, amongst his grief and fear for Dvalin, what it would like to feel like to have you inside of him. To be the one through which you explored the world.
Would you like the world through his eyes?
He was sure it would be much nicer. He could easily take you to the great heights of Teyvat and show you the beauty of the world from a bird’s eye view. You could fly nigh endlessly with him.
Surely, you would enjoy that. Would it make your pulse race? Would it make you happy?
It’s with surprise that he notices the way his heart thunders when he thinks about you. He would have thought he’d hate you- or at least be fearful. Resentful.
But instead there’s just…
Envy
And though he had thought of your existence as a god who wrote the story of his universe, but ultimately cared little for the day to day lives of its people, he learns differently. You care.
Like him, you care. Even if it’s silly. Even if their existence were words in a vast story, you’re kind. You’re patient.
He watches the traveler, that lucky individual imbued with your knowledge and strength, take up the reigns of protecting Mondstadt and its people.
Is is benevolence- or just another part of the story?
But if this were only a story, why would you take so much time with the traveler and the knights? Why would you bother to get to know them and earn their friendship?
Surely, you cared. Maybe you even loved.
He had not dreamed of a loving god for himself. But he cannot deny you nor the truth that seeps through your every action. He cannot turn away when you pick flowers for little Flora and take the time to ferry letters for Edith. Or when you help nurse Glory to health. He watches you flutter between the knights who, for some reason, have been bound to you, taking your time encompassing their ignorant existences in order to carry out your deeds and witnesses the time you put into making them strong. So that the challenges they must endure for you do not wound them so heavily. So that they may be healthy and strong.
He does not miss the fact that Kaeya spends less time in the bars, quietly numbing himself on wine. Or how Jean spends more time breathing the fresh air outside of her office.
Though there’s a deep pit of unease when he thinks about appearing before you and putting himself into your hands, he does it anyways.
The first time you take the reigns it feels like euphoria. It feels like freedom. It feels like love.
Why had he ever been afraid of love?
He’s not a puppet on a string. Not a doll to be toyed with.
Your existence glitters like starlight in the back of his mind. He cannot feel your thoughts, cannot decipher your intentions, but he witnesses your actions. You take up his bow and it feels like the caress of hands upon his own.
You make sure he’s well fed and in good health. Take the time to return his power to him, and though it’s only a shadow of what he had been capable of with his gnosis, it still feels good to not be completely vulnerable. You don’t seem to care that he’s not the force he once was. You love him all the same.
He’d forgotten what it was like to be loved as himself. A spirit of wind and not a god of freedom.
He feels you stir in his heart and soul and there’s nothing quite like that exquisite rush of his god’s touch.
On your end, once the two of you get very well acquainted (max companionship, lvl, talents, artifacts, etc) you start to realize that Venti starts to take up a life of his own in disorienting ways. You’re not sure if he’s meant to play like this, your friends tell you that your game might be a little buggy, but it’s weirdly endearing. Like he’s an actual person and not just a character in your game.
As someone with absolutely no fear of heights, he likes to feel you panic and worry for him when he hesitates to use his glider. The little bastard waits until the very last minute to pop those wings open and can viscerally feel your relief pound through him. Which is obviously annoying and unsettling on your end because every time he does this a little “Eheheh” voiceline pops up
You don’t think there’s any voice line that’s just his laugh, but you accept it as a little bug. Another thing added into the game to make the characters more intricate.
The weirdest thing Venti does is create little stories/songs in his Profile that you’ve never seen mentioned anywhere else before. Over time they get weirder and weirder, almost cult like. Song and stories about him adoring a kind god who always keeps apples on hand for him. A kind god who takes him to soar over tall karsts and mountains that scrape the clouds.
Don’t get him wrong, he cares greatly for your comfort and happiness and a couple of fourth wall breaking bugs is all he’ll cause. He just wants you to know he’s happy to have you here at last. Someone who cared so deeply for him that they did all they could to keep him free and happy.
He finds a slightly more direct way to interact with you once you obtain the lyre. Whenever you use it while it’s equipped on Venti, songs start playing by themselves. Songs that are much more complicated than your simple set up would allow for. Plus, he sings the entire time. Sweet, pretty songs that you could ignore if they weren’t so uncomfortably… meta.
Unlike some of the other self aware characters, he doesn’t mind not being on your party all the time. He very much enjoys the time he spends truly in charge of his actions. It’s not that he doesn’t care though, you should never assume that, he just likes being free to wander when you don’t need his help.
He sends you mail every day. Sometimes a couple of lines of poetry. Sometimes a fun story about what he’s been doing while you’ve been busy adventuring with others. Sometimes just a “Use me again soon :D” with a couple of dandelion seeds or cecilias. You tell yourself it’s a fun little extra the developers added in.
The songs…the stories..the poems… they’re just extras. You happened to get lucky and the company decided to let you have access to all of these fun little amenities.
Right?
Do you like cecilias?
Not many thought he cared much for them. Those people would be wrong.
Then again, people wouldn’t believe him anyways.
Venti had taken great effort and time to cultivate his reputation. Who would believe that he, a humble bard, was the great and benevolent Barbatos? Lord of the winds? Savior of Mondstadt? The magnificent Archon of Anemo?
Absolutely nobody- and he wished to leave it at that.
So when the Windblume Festival came to Mondstadt, he had watched with glee as men and women alike discussed what they believed were his favorite flowers. The dandelion knight had, predictably, offered up dandelions. He had smiled at that. It seemed that no matter the century, the spirit of Vanessa never changed.
Your amusement had bubbled with his in that moment and the euphoria of it made him want to dance. To sing. It had been a joy to learn that his maker, the sole reason for the existence of the very universe, had a sense of humor. That you smiled at the same silly things he did.
It had been a particularly off beat joke, having him be the one to ask Jean what flowers she thought he’d like.
A little mean too, what with the knowledge you held. He couldn’t blame you though. He had also laughed. It had made you confused, your emotions dripping into his. Venti felt bad- he often made you puzzled. He had meant to play his role at first, the somewhat obedient puppet- but then you had felt pleasure when he acted out. When he said things he hadn’t been expected to say. When he gave you gifts when gifts hadn’t been meant to be received.
He wonders what your voice sounds like. Is it deep? Is it high pitched? Do you sing or hum- or are you as tone deaf as that young girl from Bubu Pharmacy? The thoughts dig into the back of his mind as you have him compete across Mondstadt. There had been a time where it would have been wildly unfair for him to do so. There really was no way these young mortals could hold a candle to his ability to glide, shoot, or play the lyre. But with you encompassing his form, he really cant complain.
It’s cute, how long it takes you to line up a shot with his hands.
He hopes he doesn’t scare you too bad when he nudges you a little bit more on target.
Venti is sure that he could not have been bound to a more suitable god. A god who liked to play and laugh and explore. He knows, without doubt, that he had been made for you. The entire universe had been.
But you, too, had been made for him.
So when you urge him to buy and play a lyre that changes the rules, that brings you just a little bit closer, he honestly can’t help himself. Maybe you have a tune of your own trapped in your mind when you’d coax him into strumming. It doesn’t matter.
He touches his fingers to the strings and feels you draw just a little bit closer. Feels the veil between the two of you shift. Just a little- but enough. And though he does not wish to frighten you, he can not help but sing.
I love your SAGAU. I find it really interesting. I've been wondering what if reader love dragons and worshipers find out about it. If I understand it right, Zhongli can transform into a dragon, Venti has Dvalin. Imagine, God(tm)! Reader want to cuddle with Dragon! Zhongli and pet Dvalin. Will Zhongli and Venti allow it? Will they like it? Will other worshipers feel jealous?
Zhongli: Is not particularly enthused about such an endeavor. It takes quite a bit of energy and time to hop from one type of body to the next. The idea of leaving you without his protection not once, but twice, while he sheds exuvias makes him uneasy. However, he's more than happy to shift into a more draconian version of himself. It's really very easy to regress into the more reptilian and beastly features that he usually doesn't bother to show. It takes but a couple moments and then you are free to go ahead and trace your fingers along the crystalline peaks of his horns. He'll shiver under your touch as he demurely lowers his eyes. Run your touch along the black and gold scales that span the length of his ungloved hands, twisting and fading along his arms until there's nothing but pale, champagne tinted skin along his broad shoulders where the sun has not touched his flesh in so very long. Be bold and ask him if he has any hidden secrets to share and watch him open his mouth wide for your inspection as his cheeks blossom pink. If you're feeling particularly daring, and if you ask sweetly enough (he could never deny you), he'll let you press against the tip of his fangs. Have you watch his venom well up and drip down your palms, down your wrist and along your forearms. The soft, iridescent gold shimmer of it captivating as it catches the light. Don't be too angry if his forked tongue takes a taste of you- if it laps up the nectar of his that tastes all the sweeter for having touched you. For having been a part of you in any way, even this small. He doesn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Doesn't mean to infringe. You're just so lovely and like this, no longer trapped in the makings of simple and unrefined human senses, he feels so very sensitive.
Venti: Is overjoyed that you find his dragon/friend to be cute! He thinks Dvalin is absolutely adorable and you're one of the very few to ever tell him you feel the same! If you're willing to let him play around, as he is wont to do, he'll definitely tease you and try to make you smile more. Try to make you laugh more. He just wants you to be happy after all and if you're comfortable with some playful riffing then the more's the merrier, right? Ask him if he can have Dvalin come and cuddle you and he'll pretend to pout with that cute face of his. Only if you give him something in return, he'll say. He'd do it for free, of course, if only to see you smile, but you'll allow him this selfishness, right? You'll allow him this freedom, right? He wants a hug. He wants a kiss. He wants to hold hands. He wants to cuddle beside you in the warmth of Dvalin's scales, holding you close or being held close as the two of you nestle in the curl of the dragon's neck. And if you're exceptionally taken by the beautiful, almost iridescent, sheen of his friend's wings? Oh, he'll pout some more. He'll nudge you playfully and ask if you really are that impressed by a couple of feathers. If you nod he'll grin and cover your eyes. He's got a surprise for you (not really a surprise, he knows, but a gift then- he supposes). The wind whips around the two of you and when he removes his hands you'll bear witness to the length of Venti's own wings. They glow a blinding white that seems to shimmer like a mirage beneath the light of the sun. He'll flap them, buffering you with a gentle current of air just so that he can hear you laugh. Just so he can hear you marvel at him for a second the way he never stops marveling at you. If you'll indulge him, he'll want nothing more than to wrap you in those alabaster feathers as the two of you huddle beneath the warmth of Dvalin's scaled body.
strei, what do u think the cult would think of a sexually open god?
You're a being from a world totally unlike their own. An eldritch entity who was able to possess them wholly and bring them back to life with a wave of your little finger. They would all understand, though they might squabble amongst one another.
Some would expect it of you. A god so loving and open and sharing would of course be the same with their sexuality. It only makes sense that you would overflow with passion. That you would allow them to partake of your bounty should you find them worthy of such. They only hope they do not disappoint- that they please you above all else. (Venti, Xiao, Kazuha, Kokomi, Beidou, Lisa)
Others would begrudgingly accept this. Oh, they don't hold your sexuality against you. No, they hold it against one another. They feel a need to prove that they are your BEST lover. The one above all the others and thus most beloved. To them your favor is always a competition and they refuse to be anything but the acolyte whom you hold dearest. (Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli, Rosaria, Ei, Ninguang)
Kskks your genshin self-aware has me absolutely giggling,,,, especially the ask with Aether and Lumine??? Aether and Lumine, vibing out there as the OG Vessel, The One True And First Connection, The One Made For You, Honest to God Archons and other beings of Myth and Legend, then there's just Fischl who goes "haha chuunibyou ascension go brrrrr"
Just. God its a whole riot. Also solidifies the delusion that Fischl carries??? (chefs kiss)
See, now Venti would get along with you perfectly. You understand how fucking stupid the whole situation is. Zhongli and Venti are literally GODS who have been alive for multiple MILLENIA and even they can't interact with you directly without some struggle/special item. But this girl, whose best friend is an crow she's made out of electro energy and who is so obviously stuck in a chuunibyou phase, can just- talk to you???? Without effort???
