Ok but 5am brainrot that's been on my mind for a while.
Imagine a very short lived imposter au that's mostly normal/soft au, where there was an imposter on your throne before your arrival who tried to get you hunted down but one, some people tried pleading on your behalf because you genuinely hadn't done anything but exist and two, Teyvat sorted out quickly who was the real one and oops now you're their God!
So, of course, your acolytes choose to double, triple and quadruple their worship towards you, to atone for being so willingly blinded by an imposter and to make sure your treatment is incomparably better.
Except, they quickly realize they have no idea what to do.
You see, the imposter was greedy, egotistical and borderline sadistic. They covered all the luxuries and fineries of the world, they demanded worship, and they didn't let even the most minor perceived slight go unfinished. These are the rules they're used to following.
But you, dearest you, despise the lot of it. You turn down gifts left and right (inadequate, they think, they must find a treasure beyond anything the imposter laid their hands on), you become uncomfortable in worship (their prose must be lacking, they think, they must find more exquisite language to praise your name), and you demand naught from them (you must despise them, they think, to not trust them with your desires). They must do better, they think, until one incident brings a new perspective to light.
Your servants and acolytes were always on their best behavior around you, the children were kept far away as to not accidentally incur your wrath (a shame, you wanted to dote on the dears), and an incident had yet to occur in your presence.
Until, in the middle of a banquet in your honor, a servant girl tripped and spilled the contents of her tray across the ground, a sin enough in your presence, but even worse—she spilled water onto the edge of your sleeve.
All eyes on her, the girl trembled silently on the floor, awaiting her judgement. Even just the embarrassment of a failure was a cause for execution, but to sully the Divine One's clothing? Surely she'd be tortured for a fortnight before being allowed the release of death.
But before your attendants could move to react, you took a step forward, and then another, and another, uncaring of the mess, as you made your way across the short distance to the girl, who began to silently cry from the fear.
You opened your lips, and the room winced in sympathy. Until—
"Are you alright?" You asked, offering your hand to help her up. "That looked like quite the fall."
She could only stare at your hand, lost in shock..
"It's alright," you reassured her, lips twitching up into a smile. "I don't bite."
Hesitantly, fearfully, she took your hand, allowing you to lead her back onto her feet. Were you going to shove her into her own mess and call for the guards? Were you making sure she was healthy enough to endure the torture? Were—
"Does it hurt anywhere?" You asked, eyebrows drawn in concern as you look her over.
That snapped her back to attention.
"Your—Your Grace—" she bowed her head, not daring to meet your gaze, "I apologize—I swear I—I didn't mean to—"
You cup her cheek, gently raising her gaze to your gentle expression. "I know, it was just an accident. These sorts of things happen." You release her. "Perhaps you should sit down for a while, regain your composure. Don't push yourself, okay?"
Without any further thought, you left her to her recovery, returning to your Faithful once more as the girl's friend quickly led her away and another two got to work on clearing the mess.
When the issue of your sleeve arose, you simply laughed it off. "It's just a little water, it'll be dry in no time at all."
That's right, they think, they'd once catered to the whims of an imposter. Their kind, beautiful, benevolent God now stood before them, and they would Worship in a new way to fit Their desires.
