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[pinkie-pop]

Are you planning on continuing the paimon reader series

The Paimon Reader series has been completed for a while now!

[pinkie-pop]

Hey y'all, just a quick update on the Morningstar!Reader fic, I am still planning on finishing it, but I've unfortunately hit a bit of a roadblock. I just don't know where to take the story from here. I've written about a thousand words for the second part, but every time I open the Google Doc, I just feel stumped. Thank you all for your patience. Hopefully I will figure something out soon.

[pinkie-pop]

Are you planning on continuing the morningstar reader series?

No pressure ofc, remember to take care of yourself

Yes, I am! I've been pretty busy lately, on top of having two ongoing series to work on simultaneously, but I promise I will be finishing this. In fact, it's actually at the top of my (non-life related) priorities!

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HOLD ON

When did you start making Hazbin Hotel stuff

👁👁

Just recently! I plan to do some more in the future after I finish my Morningstar Reader series.

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"I Have Something To Tell You."

Part I Part II Part III

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

Word count: 4k

Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, brief mention of experimentation, Scaramouche gets a new name, he's also really annoying, solving problems with violence

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Two weeks.

You have two weeks before Dottore’s experiments start (you suppose even his apparent fondness for you has its limits), two weeks to make a case for yourself and prove to Scaramouche that you're worth saving. 

“What about him? I don't have time for idle chatter, you know. Spit it out.” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. You hope this goes well. 

“Well…”

Every second seems to stretch on for a millennium. The silence is deafening, though you can feel your heart beating so rapidly you're surprised you can't hear it.

“...And this information is reliable?” He says at last. You nod. Contrary to your expectations, Scaramouche simply sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I assume you have a reason for telling me this now of all times. What do you want?”

“Freedom,” you say. He quirks his eyebrow, so you continue. “This place is suffocating. Let's run away together. To Sumeru.”

“Together?” There's an unreadable expression on his face, but you’re far too focused on convincing him to pay it any mind.

“Yes. Unless you want to stay here, even after learning the truth?” 

“No.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if in contemplation. “Alright. Pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“Tomorrow?!” 

“Is that a problem?” You stare at him with wide eyes. “Close your mouth,” he says. You do.

“Don't we need time to prepare? A plan? Something? Anything?”

“What, you don't trust me?” He mocks. “It's fine. I'm sure you'll figure something out.” Your jaw drops to the floor. “Figure it out”? Is he insane? And he's leaving it all up to you? You gawk at him, but he merely shoos you away from his chambers. 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

True to his word, Scaramouche (you suppose his name will be changing soon) picks you up at dawn. You brought nothing but the clothes on your back, some mora, and some jewelry that looked expensive. It’s precisely 4:44 AM when you both exit the palace, careful not to be seen by any guards or servants. You stifle a yawn, having been up all night concocting a plan for the escape. 

Think, brain, think. 

You have to come up with an executable plan by tonight. You can't think straight. Even writing your own suicide note didn't take this much brainpower.

Wait…that's it. 

Hurriedly, you grab a pen and paper from your writing desk and get to work. Through writing, you explain that you and Scaramouche have become star-crossed lovers. You know the other Harbingers would not accept your union, and so you've left the palace together to act out a suicide pact. Don’t bother looking for your bodies, you said, as you'd be throwing yourselves into the ocean. Carefully, you seal the envelope and place it under your pillow. Scaramouche said he’d handle getting you out of the palace, so you don’t have to worry on that end, but getting caught after the fact still falls on you to figure out. 

Luckily, you already have an idea or two.

Just like in your letter, the two of you head to the ocean first. It’s still early, so many boats are left unmanned in the docks. Stealing a simple paddle boat is easy enough, but it dawns on you that you have no idea how to get to Sumeru. 

“What is it?” Scaramouche asks, seeming to sense your hesitance. 

“I…don’t actually know how to get to Sumeru from here.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously? Is that head of yours just for show?”

“Hey! At least I have a plan. You just dumped this whole thing on me!”

“It was your idea,” he retorts. You groan.

“Whatever. Let’s just go in one direction until we hit land, I guess. We’ll figure the rest out from there.” With that, you and Scaramouche work together in silence to untie a boat from its tether and board it. It only takes about an hour of rowing before your arms begin to ache, but you push through the pain, too prideful to ask Scaramouche to take over. By your third hour, your arms feel like they’re about to fall off, and your rowing has slowed significantly. Wordlessly, Scaramouche takes the ores from your weary hands and takes over the rowing. That’s strange…why didn’t he tease you? Shouldn’t he have at least called you weak or useless?

“What?” He asks, voice gruff.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you say, realizing you’d been staring. “Sorry.” 

“Hmph.” He turns away with a huff. You might be imagining it, but you could have sworn his ears turned just the tiniest bit red.

Finally, the two of you reach shore. It looks…oddly familiar. 

“Oh!” You say, clapping your hands together. Scaramouche jumps, but you pay him no mind (If you had paid attention, however, you would undoubtedly have noticed that jumping implies his guard was down—something that seems very out of character for someone like him). “I know where we are!”

“Where?” He asks, looking somewhat annoyed (though that could just be his face).

“The beach!” You say.

“...Seriously?” Realizing how silly that sounded, your face heats up.

“The beach,” you say. “The one from the tutorial.”

“The what?”

“Forget it. We’re in the east end of Mondstadt. I can take us to Sumeru from here.” The route is pretty straightforward, so you should have no trouble getting there. You lead the way, passing through the whispering woods, past Mondstadt city, Springvale, and then Dawn Winery. After about two hours of walking, you’ve already made it to Liyue. 

“Tired yet?” Scaramouche asks. 

“Not even a little,” you reply. 

You walk from Stonegate to Dihua Marsh, then pass Wangshu Inn and the Guili Planes. Finally, you’ve reached Liyue Harbor, where you and Scaramouche stop to get food and rest.

“Do you think you’ll change your name?” You ask in between bites. 

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to use Scaramouche anymore. Considering the whole Dottore situation and all. Plus,” you say, pausing to take a chew. “We’re on the run right now. A Harbinger’s name might draw attention.”

“Pick one for me, then.”  

“How about ‘Hat Guy’?” You ask, stifling a laugh. He huffs.

“Forget it.” 

“What about Kuni?”

“No.”

“Kuzushi?”

“No.”

“Kuku?”

“Are you even trying?”

“You insult me,” you say with a grin.”Well, if we’re going to Sumeru, maybe we should pick a Sumerian name? What do you think about Arasay?” 

“That…isn’t terrible.”

“High praise.” You decide not to tell him that ‘Arasay’ is really just ‘Scara’ in pig Latin, missing a letter. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I…um, think I’m from the future?”

“What?”

“Uh, let me start over and walk you through my train of thought. So, in my world, the way I interact with this world is through a medium called a computer. This computer allows me to take limited control of the Traveler and his associates, make them stronger, stuff like that. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. Are you going somewhere with this?”

“I just said I was walking you through my train of thought. Have some patience will you?” From Arasay’s smirk, you can tell he was only messing with you. “Ugh, you’re the worst. Anyway, the computer gives me insight on important events that happen to the traveler. The thing is, though, some of those events haven’t actually happened yet. Like, let me ask you this: what was the last major thing that the Traveler did?”

“He defeated Stormterror not long after you got here.”

“After I got here?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s a huge problem.” You bury your face in your hands, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your situation. 

“Care to enlighten me?” Arasay asks, seeming annoyed (though, really, that seems to just be his default state). 

“So, it’s- I- Ugh.” You let your head fall onto the table. Quickly, you raise your head and look up at your companion. “How do you know about me?”

“You possessed one of my colleagues.” 

“Except I didn’t.” You lean in closer to him, nearly face-to-face.

“What do you mean?”

“Tartaglia hasn’t met the Traveler yet, and I didn’t take control over him until after he met the Traveler. So, let me ask you again: how do you know about me?”

“Agh!” Arasay grabs at his head, a pained expression on his face. You leap to your feet and rush over to his side, your hands floating mere inches from him, as if you’re worried he’ll shatter with the smallest touch. “My…my head!” He says, clutching his hair between his fists. He convulses, then slumps over.

“Arasay? Arasay!” You shake him, desperately trying to rouse him to no avail. “Arasay!” You cry. 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, nearly slumping over.

“That scared me,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay now? You aren’t just saying it out of pride?”

“Your concern disgusts me,” he says, hiding his face behind his hat. You know he’s lying: the tips of his ears are pink. After composing himself, he lets go of his hat and faces you. “I-”

“Hey-” 

You both look at each other. Arasay sighs. “You go first,” he says.

“I think you should ditch the hat.”

“What?”

“It draws too much attention. We don’t want rumors about the hat guy and his companion floating around so soon after we ran off, do we?” Arasay sighs again, louder this time. 

“Fine,” he says taking his hat off and placing it to his side. “Happy?”

“You look naked.” He gives you the stink eye. “Sorry, sorry. You look fine. We’ll get you a new hat when we get to Sumeru. Maybe a less flashy one?” 

“Whatever.”

“You had something you wanted to say, too, right?” He nods.

“I had a dream,” he starts, looking off in the distance. “It happened when I passed out. In it, I saw the timeline you described. I remembered meeting the Traveler, fighting him, joining him, getting my vision-” Arasay unclenches his fist, turning his hand over to reveal what you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. A shiny blue vision, encased in a Sumerian sheath. “I remembered everything.”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “Interesting,” you say, a million thoughts racing through your head. 

“I think I know what we need to do next.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

When you finish eating, you leave the harbor and head to the Chasm, where you bribe the two guards to let you in. Navigating the Chasm is a little tricky, as it’s an area you haven’t spent much time in, but through sheer luck and some educated guessing, you manage to find your way to Cinnabar Cliff. 

Finally, you’re in Sumeru. It took three hours of rowing and five of walking, but you finally made it. As the sun sets over the horizon, you breathe out a sigh of relief. You’ve made it. 

“We’re here,” Arasay says. “What now?”

“Now we go to Gandharva village,” you say, confidently taking a step forwards. As the two of you travel down the path, you spot an Aranara out of the corner of your eye. Though you’d like to go up and befriend it, it disappears before you can even get a good look. You continue walking, lost in your own thoughts when Arasay grabs you. You jolt to attention, quickly realizing that you were about two steps from waking right into a withering zone. Right, you had forgotten about these.

“Watch it,” he says. 

“Should we just go around?” You ask, looking over to your companion. He shakes his head. 

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” You’re surprised by how quickly and efficiently he fights off the monsters and clears out the area. You knew he was strong from playing the game, of course, but something about seeing it in action is different. It’s amazing, really. “Don’t tell me you’re impressed by only this much,” he says. You glare at him. 

“Not at all,” you say, walking past him. You pause, briefly forgetting your frustration and remembering your manners. “Thanks, though.” As you continue down the path, you spot a familiar tuff of green hair and call out to it. 

“Collei!” You cry, running over to her. Collie jumps, looking up at you with a confused smile. 

“Do…do I know you?” She asks. You freeze. Whoops. You forgot she doesn’t know who you are. 

“Ah- sorry! Let me introduce myself. I’m [Name], the Player—which is how I knew your name. If you want me to prove it, I can-”

“No, I believe you,” she says firmly.

“You do?”

“Uh, well,” Collei folds her hands together, looking a bit bashful. “It was a little weird, but I felt like I knew you the moment I saw you, even though I was sure I’d never seen you in my life. Your presence was…familiar to me. It…felt like home. A-anyway, that’s how I recognized you! But, um, what are you doing here? And, um, who’s your friend?” 

“‘Friend’ is pushing it,” Arasay huffs. You sigh dramatically, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you drape yourself over him. 

“Soulmate, then,” you say, smiling. “Love of my life, the apple of my eye?” Arasay pushes you off of him, and you fall to the ground, your laughing only intensified by the bright pink of his cheeks. Collei looks between you two awkwardly. 

“Arasay,” he says to her, helping you up off the ground. “And the reason we’re here is because-”

“Let’s go to the village first,” you say. “We need to speak to your master, too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“So you need a place to stay for the night?” Tighnari asks, looking between you two. You nod. 

“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. 

“Not at all,” he says. “You two can stay with me.” 

“Um, Master,” Collei pipes up. “if it’s okay, I’d like to be the one to host the Player in my hut.” Tighnari looks her up and down, as if sizing her up in his mind.

“I’m sure the player would be more comfortable in my hut,” he says, his ear flicking. “You can take their friend.”

“But—!”

“Collei,” Tighnari says in a warning tone. “Don’t push yourself. I’m sure the Player wouldn’t want you stretching yourself thin over them, right? Don’t forget that you’re still ill.” Collei nods, looking dejected, so you offer her a small smile for comfort. This seems to cheer her up a bit, but she still looks disheartened. The way they’re fighting over you reminds you of being with the Fatui. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” you say. Arasay looks like he has something to say to you, but you avoid his stare until Collei drags him over to her hut. You and Tighnari begin to settle in for the night. It’s clear from the way his gaze continues to travel back to you that he has something he wants to say. You ignore him, though, far too exhausted to try and humor him.

Soon enough, morning arrives. You ask Tighnari to accompany you and Arasay to Sumeru city.

“You’re going to the city?” Tighnari’s ears perk up. “What do you need there?”

“People,” you say. Tighnari looks over to Arasay, who simply shrugs and gets ready to depart. 

The three of you make it to the city, where the guards stop and hand you an Akasha Terminal. You thank them and put it on, keeping it there for a grand total of three and a half steps until the guards stop looking, and you pocket the thing immediately. 

“Where to?” Arasay pipes up.

“The Akademiya. We need to pick up Cyno and Alhaitham.”

“Cyno I know, but I’ve never heard of this Alhaitham before,” Tighnari says. “Who is he?”

“The Scribe. I don’t know where his office is, though.” 

“Cyno might know. And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can find out.”

“I just hope he’s not busy,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. You keep walking, and in the few seconds you have your eyes off the road, you manage to crash into someone. You and the other person fall to the ground, with you clutching the arm you accidentally hit. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Arasay scolds. 

“Sorry, I-”

“Not you. Her,” he says, glaring daggers at the lady you knocked into. Tighnari helps you up, and you help the lady to her feet. As you do, you notice her arms are covered in bandages. One happens to be loose, and you can see dark purple scales poking out from underneath. 

“...Dunyarzad?” You say, nearly holding your breath.

“Yes?” She asks, looking confused. “Do I know you?”

“Yes! No! Um, maybe…?”

“Huh…?” With exceptional timing, Dehya arrives on the scene.

“Dehya!” 

“Do I know you…?” You chuckle. You feel like you’ve been hearing that a lot lately. 

“So…” Briefly, you explain who you are. 

“Can you take accountability for your words?” Dehya asks, eyes narrowing. 

“I can,” you say confidently. “But first, can you come with me? I only want to prove myself once, and there are still some other people I want to see.”

“And now you’re giving me orders? The Player has been missing for weeks. Do you think I’m stupid?” She asks, stepping closer to you. Arasay blocks her from coming any closer, and you can practically feel the animosity in the air. “Even if I did believe you, I can’t just abandon my post like that.”

“That’s enough, Dehya,” says Dunyarzad, walking between you and her.

“My lady…?”

“I believe them,” she says. “I want to listen to whatever they have to say.”

“But-”

“That’s an order.” Her tone is final, leaving no room for further argument. You look at her, impressed by her firmness, to which she returns your gaze with a smile. Dehya sighs, gesturing for you to take the lead. 

You lead your party of four (five, including yourself) to the Akademiya, where you’re met with several stares from the students. It’s clear that your odd group doesn’t quite belong here, but perhaps due to the ferocious gaze of Dehya and Arasay, no one dares to say anything. Tighnari leads you to Cyno’s office, where he’s chatting with one of his subordinates. He quirks an eyebrow at your arrival but otherwise ignores you until he’s finished talking. The guard leaves, and Cyno turns to Tighnari. You briefly explain that you’re looking for him and the Scribe, and Tighnari vouches for your trustworthiness. That seems to be all Cyno needs, as he doesn’t ask any further questions and simply leads you to Althaitham’s office.

You knock on the door. 

“Come in,” calls a familiar voice. You open the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Player?” he says, barely glancing up from his paperwork.

You’re floored. “How did you—?”

“How could I not? I’d have to be a fool not to recognize you,” He says, putting his pen down. Dehya bristles, but doesn’t say anything. Alhaitham rises from his seat and beckons you all inside. Once the door is closed, he continues. “Now, then. I take it you have some matter of great importance you want my help with?”

“Yes! So, here’s the the thing...” 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You’re…going to rescue the Dendro Archon…?” Everyone gapes at you. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You laugh nervously. 

“Yes! But, um, only if you’re willing to help me. I can’t do it on my own,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“How would you even…?” Dunyarzad murmurs, looking dazed.

“Before I answer that, there’s something else I need to tell you about. You, uh, may want to sit down for this.” Everyone raises an eyebrow, but no one moves to sit. “Please,” you say. Sighing, Tighnari takes a seat on the floor. Cyno joins him soon after. Soon, everyone save for yourself and Arasay have seated themselves, and you begin. 

“How do you know about me?” You ask, looking around. Your gaze settles on Tighnari. 

“We’ve all felt your presence,” he says tentatively, as if worried that may be the wrong answer.

“How?”

“You’ve taken control of several of us,” Cyno says. “And we’ve felt your gaze through the Traveler as well.”

“Aha!” Several people look startled by your exclamation, but you pay them no mind. “That’s wrong. The Traveler never came to Sumeru. You couldn’t have possibly felt me from them. Not to mention, I never took control over any of you before I got to Sumeru,” you say, looking over at them triumphantly.

“What are you…?”

“You shouldn’t know about me,” you say. One by one, you watch with victory as everyone begins to clutch at their heads and lean over. By the time the first one passes out, you’re glad you had the foresight to ask them to sit for this.

You wait for everyone to recover, which thankfully doesn’t take long. “So,” you say, looking over everyone’s faces to make sure they’re lucid. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to reuse your and the Traveler’s plan to free the Dendro Archon.”

“The plan took place on Jnagarbha day,” Alhaitham says. “To fully recreate the plan, we’d have to wait months until-” 

“Forget that,” Arasay says. “The real problem is the Grand Sage, right? He’s the one keeping Buer locked up. Just take him out. Problem solved.” Everyone goes quiet. What an…unexpectedly brutal solution. Though you suppose he is a former Harbinger.

 “Can…can we do that?”

Come to think of it…there are a lot less variables involved now than there were in the original story. The Traveler had to deal with Dottore and Scaramouche, but ‘Scaramouche’ is on your side now, and Dottore is still in Sneznaya. Maybe you don’t have to come up with some big, convoluted plan to take down the Akademiya. Maybe you really can just solve your problems with violence. 

“Okay, let’s do it.” Everyone gapes at you, but you hold firm. “When should we start?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taking out the Grand Sage was pretty easy. All you had to do was walk into his office and knock him out. From there, you just went up to the Sanctuary of Surathana, once again knocking out whoever stood in your way. 

Finally, you’re here. You can see Nahida sleeping in the giant meditation chamber. You’re so close to freedom that you can practically taste it. But first… 

“Um, so…does anyone know how to deactivate this thing?” You ask sheepishly.

Alhaitham steps up, walking to some mechanism in front of the chamber. He messes with it for a few minutes before the chamber opens up. 

Nahida opens her eyes.

“What’s going on?” 

“I’d like to speak with you alone, if that’s alright,” you say, stepping forward. You glance back at your friends (can you call them that now?). You feel pretty bad about dragging them here just to kick them out, but what you’re about to say needs to remain confidential. Everyone except for Arasay leaves to wait outside. Once you’re sure they’re gone, you begin to explain your situation. You tell Nahida about how you got here, why you left Snezhnaya, and why you saved her. You tell her you’ll help her save Sumeru from forbidden knowledge if she hosts and protects you and Arasay in exchange. Additionally, you promise to her that Arasay will give her special knowledge about the ‘sky’ if she promises not to hand her gnosis to the Fatui. Arasay nearly protests at the mention of this, but one pleading look is all it takes to shut him up. Finally, you finish your story. “Please help us,” you say.

"Okay," she says.

Taglist: @Mmeatt @Shikanosn @Sangoqueenkoko @Vianitry @Lacedribbns @Springkuinn @Clavichordcleffa @starshinesama @kamit-frog @agaygothicmushroom @ash1

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Hi I hope you're doing well. I wanted to let you know that I recently finished reading your Twisted Wonderland series and I absolutely loved it! 🤭

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

[pinkie-pop]

Heyo can we get a part 2 of the fatui sagau thing. ITS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING; for some reason every other day i just randomly come back to re-read it. Ur amazing wrighter i just love everythin u make :3

(English not my first language so sorry if any mistakes)

Thanks so much! I have part 2 in the works right now, and it should be coming out soon. If you want, you can send another ask or reply to the original post to be added to the taglist, so you can be notified when the next part comes out.

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"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."

Part I Part II

Sequel to this.

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar!Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 3.2k

Includes: No applicable warnings for this installment

Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?

•~•~•~•~•~•

You remember Lilith as a caring mother.

For the short period of time that she was in your life, you never once felt unloved. Even when you were suspicious of her, even when you tried to turn away from her, she always gazed at you with utmost adoration. Then, six months later, she stopped gazing at you at all. Six months later, she disappeared entirely.

Lucifer handled her sudden departure about as well as one could have. You didn't see him that much during the six months in which your mother was present, but you could tell they were in a rough patch. They never fought, never hit or insulted, but they were awkward in a way that was hard to describe. It showed in the way Lucifer gazed at her, in the way Lilith would break eye contact, in the way she never handed you over to him without his explicit asking. You suppose that must be why Lucifer has hardly changed even after his wife left without warning—to him, she had already left a long, long time ago.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Being a single father to two children isn't easy, even if one of them is already grown up. A child is never fully grown in the eyes of their parents, no matter how many centuries pass them by. 

You were always a little too mature for your age. It made it hard to be a dad, Lucifer thought. After all, how could he raise someone who acted as if they had already led a full life some many years ago? 

Before Lucifer could blink, seven years had already passed him by, and yet his youngest had not seemed to age a day. It was as if you had stopped growing a long time ago. It was as if you were born an adult. Your physical body was the only indicator of your progress. It scared him, honestly. Before you could even walk, you were crawling to the library and reading grimoires as old as the demon who owned them. Lucifer wishes he could dismiss it as a child simply playing with a toy, but something deep in his gut told him that you understood every word. This theory proved true when you started practicing magic mere months later. Your progress was astounding, unlike anything he'd ever seen. 

You…weren't normal. But every so often, you'd look up at him with your big, round eyes and smile, and you'd feel like a kid again. Lucifer would become aware of how rounded your cheeks and small your body was, and suddenly, the unease would vanish. That's right. No matter what, you were still only seven. The same seven-year-old who brought their teddy bear everywhere they went, who'd play with Razzle and Dazzle, just barely starting to be taller than said sheep. 

Despite everything, you were still his child. 

Lucifer’s phone buzzes, momentarily taking him out of his musings. 

It's Charlie.

Wait…Charlie?! Charlie never calls him! Oh no, what should he say? It has to be perfect, it has to be—

“Hey, bitch,” he says. Perfect.

“Hey, Dad,” Charlie says awkwardly, the sound of her pacing echoing through the speakers. She seems nervous, it makes Lucifer's heart ache. He wants so badly to reach out through the phone and comfort her, but he can't even muster up the courage to ask what's wrong. He kicks a duck across his workshop, the sound of it's squeaking echoing across the room. “So, I had a favor to ask you...” The sound of pacing stops, and Lucifer waits with bated breath.

“Sure, anything,” he says. “Anything you want.” Charlie explains the situation to him. She runs a hotel now, apparently. Why didn't she tell him sooner? The thought of her not trusting him with it ate at his pride, but he set his feelings aside and resolved to just listen. Charlie invites him to check out her hotel, and it dawns on him that this is the first time she's ever invited him over. The weight of her invitation is not lost on him. Eagerly, he responds, “I'll be there in an hour!” then hangs up.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Despite your maturity, you're still too young to be left home alone (in Lucifer's eyes, at least), so Lucifer takes you with him to the hotel. He's sure Charlie will be thrilled to see you again—the two of you have always been fond of each other. 

The hotel looks pretty much as it did in the show, with the only difference now being the large banner hanging from the stairway reading “Welcome, Dad!”. Charlie is there to greet the two of you at the door, and you can see the rest of the cast hanging around in the distance.

“[Name]!” Charlie says, running to pick you up and hug you as Lucifer stands awkwardly to the side. “I didn’t know you were coming, or I would have added your name to the sign!” When Charlie is done nuzzling your face, she and Lucifer share an awkward hug of their own. “I’m so glad you guys could make it. Let me show you around!” Charlie holds your hand and guides the two of you to the bar first, where Husk is there downing another bottle of cheap booze.

“Who’s the pipsqueak?” He says between gulps. “I don’t like kids.”

“Look at their face, hot stuff,” Angel replies, leaning over the counter with a lazy grin. “Think you just insulted royalty.” 

“Hello!” you say, craning your neck up to see them. “I’m [Name]! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Aw, look at that smile,” Angel coos, picking you up by the armpits. “Musta inherited that from ‘er Mom.” 

“What makes you say that?” You tilt your head. As far as you know, you inherited most of your traits from your father.

“Look at ‘im,” Angel says, nodding towards Lucifer, who’s wearing the nastiest frown you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Dad, are you okay over there?”

“I’d be fine if that filth were to put you down, sweetie,” he says.

“Hey! I am not ‘filth’! People pay big money just to be in the same room as me, you know!” Lucifer walks over and snatches you from his grip. The two of them exchange insults back and forth. Seeing as this might take a while, you climb down from your Dad’s arms and start looking around. 

“Why, hello there, little one,” Alastor says, materializing beside you. He reaches a hand out to shake, then excitedly swings your arm up and down when you give it. “You must be [Name]. Pleasure to be meeting you, dear! Quite a pleasure! Our dear Charlie has told us quite a bit about you,” he says, still shaking your arm.

“She has?” You say, glancing over to Charlie, who’s busy trying to defuse the tension between your father and Angel Dust. 

“Yes, indeedy!” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and spinning you around. “And since our dear Princess is so busy with her father and our tenant, I shall take it upon myself to show you around. Isn’t that just grand?” Alastor doesn’t bother waiting for a reply before dragging you by the arm towards the staircase, only to be stopped by Vaggie who quickly blocks the path.

“Oh no you don’t,” she says, brandishing her spear. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you are going nowhere with them.” Alastor grins but relents, dropping your arm and disappearing. Creepy.  

“Are you okay?” Vaggie asks, kneeling down to your height. You nod but hold the spot where the Radio Demon had grabbed you as if worried it might be bruised. Vaggie checks to see if it is but sees no signs of any bruise or injury forming on your small arm. That’s a relief, at least.

“Hah!” You and Vaggie snap around at the sound of thunderous laughter coming from the bar. The two of you are greeted by an odd sight—Lucifer and Angel Dust embraced together in a stiff hug, while Charlie looks on, seemingly pleased with herself. You aren’t sure how she pulled it off, but you suppose she must have succeeded in de-escalating the fight between those two.

“Oh, I see you’ve met my girlfriend!” Charlie says, walking over to you. 

“Your girlfriend?” Lucifer says, quickly untangling himself from Angel. “You like girls? S-so do I! We have so much in common!” He says, pointing his finger from himself to Charlie in a repetitive manner. 

“It’s uh- it's nice to meet you. Sir,” Vaggie says, standing up to shake Lucifer’s hand. To which he grabs her hand but then quickly pulls her in for a brief hug. The hug seems to blindside Vaggie momentarily and ends before she can return it. Still, she doesn’t seem unhappy about it.

“I’m Niffty!” Comes a voice from your right. Sure enough, it’s Niffty who’s come to see you next. “You’re taller than me, even though I’m older. That’s fine, though! I don’t mind at all!” She says, stabbing at a nearby roach with her needle, a crazed look in her eye.

You shuffle away from Niffty…

…And bump right into Sir Pentious on the way. 

“Oh, h-hello there,” he says, looking oddly nervous. “Ssorry, I uh…I do not know how to eh, conversse with people of your kind.” You blink at him, and he grabs his collar as if sweaty. 

“By ‘people of your kind’ do you mean…kids?” You ask. Pentious nods. “Just talk to me how you would everyone else. If it helps, you can think of me like how you think of Niffty?”

“Sscary…?” 

“I meant more like…a short person,” Niffty runs past you briefly, stabbing at another roach with her needle, “-but I get where you’re coming from,” you say.

The rest of the day follows more or less the same beats as the episode it was based on. Lucifer and Alastor have unexplained beef with each other, they sing a song about it (where does the music come from?), Charlie’s daddy issues get resolved via another song (seriously, where is the music coming from? Did they improv this?), and Mimzy appears. Soon enough, it’s time to leave. Charlie is hugging you and your Dad goodbye when an idea occurs to you.

“Hey, Dad? Charlie?” You say, feeling a bit nervous. “Do you mind if I stay here? I want to help out with the hotel.” It’s been seven years since you arrived in hell, but you still remember every detail of the show from having written it down as soon as you could write. With your knowledge, you might be able to help move things along more easily.

Maybe you can protect your sister from making a deal with the Radio Demon.

“Oh, honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Lucifer says, looking down at you.

“Eh, why not? Let the kid stay, for Christ’s sake,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “We could use someone ta’ liven the place up a bit.”

“Sweetie, you’ve never even stayed the night away from home before. Are you sure you want to stay in the hotel?” You nod.

“Charlie will be there with me! And you won’t be that far away, either! Please, Daddy?” You give Lucifer your best puppy-dog eyes, the ones you know he’s weak to. Lucifer looks away from you, clearly conflicted. 

“Alright,” he relents. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” you say, a tad too eager.

“I’m staying here with you.” 

“Is that okay?” You turn to Charlie. 

“Of course!” she says. “I’ll go get your rooms set up right away–”

“Room,” Lucifer corrects. “We, uh, wouldn’t want to take up too much space.”

“Oh no, no, no, it’s fine, we’ve got plenty of room for both of-”

“Just one room is enough for us,” he says, his voice final. You want to protest, being a fully grown adult (in your own head, at least), but you know your father won’t budge on this. He must miss feeling like a father, having one grown child and another who acts like they’re grown already. You should let him have this/

“Uh, sure,” Charlie says. “I’ll go get one ready for you, then.” 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“So,” you say, looking over to Vaggie. The room is empty, save for you two. It’s the perfect time to start putting your plan into action. “How’d your hurt your eye? I thought Exorcists were supposed to be invulnerable.” Vaggie freezes, a horrified expression on her face as she turns to look at you. 

“How did you know that I’m an Exorcist?”

“You have a giant ‘X’ over your eye and wield an angelic spear. It isn’t rocket science,” you say, because it’s the first thing that came to mind.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she says, voice almost a whisper.

“Charlie knows, though, right?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Vaggie remains silent. “I think you should tell her. Keeping secrets from your partner only builds distrust, and it’s not like she wouldn’t forgive you.” 

“It’s not that easy,” Vaggie says, moving to sit on the couch. You sit beside her, waiting for her to go on. “I mean, you try telling your girlfriend that saved your life that not only have you been lying to her for years, but that you’ve also killed hundreds of her people. The same people that you’re now trying to save.”

“Well,” you say, shifting a little closer. “I think that last part is what’s really important here.”

“What? The part about me killing hundreds?”

“The part about you trying to save hundreds. I think that speaks to how much you’ve changed over the years. You’ve done things in your past that you aren’t proud of. Everyone has. But now you’re trying to make things right. I mean, you love her, don’t you?” Vaggie nods. “And she loves you?” Another nod. “Then what’s the issue? You guys are a good pair, and you’ll get through this. But first, you have to be honest with her.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she says, looking down. 

“I know I am. Now go. Go and tell your girlfriend the truth. Make sure she understands your point of view. Don’t just tell her and leave. Sit down and really explain where you’re coming from, okay?”

“Okay,” she says. “You know, you give some really good advice, for a kid.”

“I know I do. Now, shoo, get outta here.” Vaggie smiles at you, then moves to get up. You give her a thumbs up, silently praying for things to go well for her.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Charlie, there’s something I need to tell you,” Vaggie says, closing the door to their shared room behind her. “It’s um, I mean, you might wanna, uh, sit down for this…”

“Is it bad?” Charlie asks, her face creased with worry. 

“No—I mean, yes— I mean, maybe?”

“What is it?” Vaggie sighs, running a hand through her hair. She moves to sit down, and Charlie moves to sit with her, taking Vaggie’s hand in hers. “You know I love you, right?” Vaggie nods. 

“I—I’m—I…I can’t do this,” she says, abruptly getting up and walking to the door. 

“Wait!” Charlie says, standing to block her. “Hold on! You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“No.” Vaggie shakes her head.

“Then it’s fine, isn’t it? We’ll be okay.” Charlie takes Vaggie’s hands in hers and Vaggie feels herself begin to tear up. She hastily moves her hands to wipe at the tears, missing the hurt look that briefly crosses her lover’s face. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Vaggie nods, throat dry. She needs a drink, water, alcohol, something. 

“I…” Charlie nods along, an encouraging smile on her face. “I’m an exorcist,” she says at last.

Charlie's face drops. She and Vaggie stare at each other for a long time before Charlie steps up to speak. “...Why are you telling me this now? Why keep it secret for so long?” She says at last.

“I…I’m not proud of it,” Vaggie says. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you but I just…I was scared.”

“Vaggie, you know I believe in redemption more than anyone else. What were you scared of?”

“I don’t know. I just—I didn’t want to have this conversation. With you. With anyone. When I first got here, I didn’t know you, I couldn’t trust you with my past, and then as more time passed and we got to know each other, it felt like it was too late. Like I couldn’t say it anymore without it becoming this huge thing. Every day, the secret got bigger and bigger, and I…I felt like I was drowning.” Vaggie looks down, ashamed.

“Vaggie,” Charlie says, once again taking Vaggie’s hands in hers. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” She rubs her thumb against her hand comfortingly.

“Are…are we okay?”

“Of course,” she says. “I love you, Vaggie.”

“I love you, too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You know, you never did tell me how you hurt your eye,” you say, looking over to Vaggie.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because if angels can be hurt, they can probably be killed, too. I want to believe in Charlie’s hotel, but having a backup plan is always good.”

“An ex-colleague of mine slashed my eye right after she took my wings,” Vaggie says with a sigh.

“What did she use?”

“An angelic spear. Same as all of us.” You hum, pretending to ponder the information you were just given. Should you just drop the act and tell Vaggie you know what Carmilla did on the last extermination, or should you keep nudging her in the right direction?

“Carmilla Carmine deals in angelic weapons, doesn’t she? Maybe she knows something we don’t.”

“Doubt it,” she says. “Not even the other exorcists knew we weren’t invulnerable, and whether or not we can be killed is still up in the air.” You make a noise of displeasure. Without the information that Carmilla definitely killed an exorcist, Vaggie won’t do anything, but there’s no plausible explanation for how you could have come across such information. But if you don’t tell her, Charlie will end up making a deal with Alastor… But if you just give her the answer, Vaggie won’t fight with Carmilla and regain her wings…In the actual show, Alastor only relayed that Carmilla killed an angel, and Charlie took it from there. You should do the same.

“Vaggie, there’s something I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else or ask any questions, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me,” you say, holding up your pinkie. Vaggie obliges, and the room turns red with your deal. She looks shocked, her singular eye wide as she stares at your intertwined fingers, but the shock doesn’t last as you quickly move on to more pressing matters. “Last extermination, Carmilla Carmine killed an exorcist. I don’t know how she did it, but you need to go there and find out.” Vaggie opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. You suppose she must have been trying to ask a question, but the strength of your deal must have prevented her from doing so. “Please, Vaggie. Something’s going to happen during extermination day, I can feel it.” Seeming to sense your desperation Vaggie at last relents.

“Okay, I’ll go talk to Carmilla,” she says.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplara

[pinkie-pop]

Yep!

Hi! I was hopping I could be added to the taglist for “Hazbin Hotel idea: Morningstar! Reader” please? Thanks!! <3

Ofc!

[pinkie-pop]

Hi! I was hopping I could be added to the taglist for “Hazbin Hotel idea: Morningstar! Reader” please? Thanks!! <3

Ofc!

[pinkie-pop]

To accompany my latest piece, here's Morningstar!Reader fem and masc ver

[pinkie-pop]

HAZBIN HOTEL [HELL] MASTERLIST:

ALL:

• MORNINGSTAR!READER CONCEPT

• MORNINGSTAR!READER DESIGN

• REINCARNATED AS THE CRINGEFAIL LORD OF HELL'S SECOND CHILD I

LUCIFER:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

LILITH:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

CHARLIE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

VAGGIE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

ANGEL DUST:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

ALASTOR:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

HUSK:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

NIFTY:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

CHERRI BOMB:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

SIR PENTIOUS:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

VOX:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

VALENTINO:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

VELVETTE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER.

[pinkie-pop]

Hazbin Hotel idea: Morningstar! Reader

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Reader's design

Link to part I

Haven't you ever wanted to transmigrate into the world of your favorite media? Of course you have! Otherwise, why would you even be here?

It's a story we've all seen before. Someone dies and wakes up in a new, exciting body, in a new, exciting world!

You've seen it all before. But you never thought it could actually happen to you.

There's a baby crying somewhere in the room.

You're staring up at nothing, the most gorgeous chandelier you've ever seen in your life hanging from an unfamiliar ceiling. It takes you a moment to realize it's actually a baby mobile.

What kind of rich freak buys something that elaborate for a baby? You're in a strange place, that's for sure.

The crying gets louder. You reach to cover your ears, only to stop dead in your tracks as you realize just how small you are.

No way...that baby...is it you?

[More under the cut]

So, this is really happening, huh? You've reincarnated (or something) into the body of some (assumedly very) wealthy family's baby.

This.

Fucking.

Rules.

You're no stranger to the transmigration trope, having read countless light novels and webcomics during your time on Earth. You know what to expect—a loving family, beautiful male leads, and more money than you could ever spend. Of course, you'll miss your old life and friends, but honestly, who could turn down a life like this? You were (re)born with a silver spoon, and you plan to take full advantage of it.

The crying gets even louder, and you realize that you're hungry. It's a different kind of hunger than you've ever felt before. It almost...doesn't feel human.

But that's silly, isn't it?

You've been born with a silver spoon, who could ask for more? You will yourself to stop crying, but it only gets louder and louder as the hunger grows.

The door opens, and the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen steps inside. Judging by her attire, she must be someone of high social standing. Is she your mother?

"Aw, hush now little one, Mommy's here," she says, picking you up and rocking you gently. The crying ceases almost immediately, leaving you feeling slightly irritated. How come this woman has more control over your body than you do? You don't have very long to stew in your irritation, however, as the woman pulls out a bottle from seemingly thin air, a dark red liquid gently sloshing around inside.

You're no expert, but you can say with 99% certainty that that isn't milk. You don't know what it is, honestly, but you do know that it's the most appetizing looking thing you've seen in your life.

The woman, your mother, places the bottle to your lips, and you lap it up greedily. "Hungry, are we?" She asks. You obviously don't respond. Even if you could, you're far too focused on drinking down every last drop of whatever is in that bottle to pay any attention to what she's saying.

Finally, your hunger satiated, you finish the bottle. Your mother poofs it out of existence, but you don't have time to think about the potential existence of magic before the door opens again.

"How is our little one?" A male voice (your father, most likely) asks. It sounds familiar, but you can't quite place it.

"They've got quite the healthy appetite," your mother responds, turning to show you to the man.

Your eyes grow as wide as saucers.

Lucifer...?

A/N: I'll write more of this if it gets popular. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist

[pinkie-pop]

SNEZNAYA MASTERLIST

ALL:

• "I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU" PART I PART II

PIERRO:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

II CAPITANO:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

II DOTTORE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

COLUMBINA:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

ARLECCHINO:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

PULCINELLA:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

SCARAMOUCHE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

SANDRONE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

LA SIGNORA:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

PANTALONE:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

TARTAGLIA:

NOTHING YET...COME BACK LATER

[pinkie-pop]

"I Have Something To Tell You."

Part I Part II Part III

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

Word count: 3.1k

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

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

•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

You should never have killed yourself. 

•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The mirror in your quarters is broken. 

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

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

Only that they do.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t stop you before.”

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

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

“And? What’s the goal?”

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

“Interact with it how?”

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

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

“Hey, so listen…”

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have to run away. 

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

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

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

[pinkie-pop]

Hello! I’m in love with your “we’ve seen the devil” story and I saw your post about another version of the self aware au. I was wondering if you have posted anything about it yet since I couldn’t find anything, but if you haven’t no pressure 🤗❤️

Yes, I did make my own self aware au but it's currently discontinued. I still write for self aware twst, though!

[pinkie-pop]

Hello Pop! I just read Bad End Revolution and was curious if it was at all inspired by Slay the Princess? I can definitely see it being a coincidence, but it had a somewhat similar cadence at times. I love Slay the Princess, so if you know it that’d be really cool!

Hope your day is going well! ^u^

Pop has played Slay the Princess, yes! And actually, yes, it did serve as a bit of inspiration for B.E.R! The other game that inpired the series was In Stars and Time, a game that Pop is currently playing and would highly recommend. There's actually a third media that inspired the series, which is Madoka Magica! You'll know the refrence when you see it.