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#Rosalyne :(((
conqueenror · 2 months
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I love Mondstadt sm, and it's not because it is the "home region", but because it is a mysterious and sometimes even creepy region when you dig a little bit further
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soft-cristobalite · 3 months
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10 of swords
This being my fav drawing of mine and not having its own post made no sense actually
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adiluv-moved · 1 year
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♡ 、、 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 !
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꒰summary—wc꒱ poor, poor rosalyne. 1173 words.
꒰warnings꒱ major character death, angst w/ unhappy ending, reader is a fatui soldier, barely edited.
꒰adi moment꒱ still can't believe they robbed us of playable signora when she's literally my wife and we're literally happily married and just celebrated our anniversary together smhhh ꒰struggling to cope꒱! would like to be delulu and hope she gets revived somehow, cuz she fr deserves it. anyway, hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི১
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Celestia does not pity the sinners.
When you'd first found yourself involved with the Fatui, your failure to pay back your father's loans indebting you to the organization, you'd already known that you'd be destined for a bad ending. When you'd first found yourself being placed beneath the authority of the Eight Harbinger, you were surprised that Celestia did not strike you down right then and there. Namely, because unlike the other wide-eyed recruits that stood at the entryway of her manor, your cheeks were not tinted pink by the sub-zero temperatures. 
She was an interesting person, laced in webs of contradiction and mystery. She boasted a haughty personality, a sharp tongue that could slice through the egos of even her most self-conceited underlings. She dressed herself in luxurious shades of red, hair elegantly styled and makeup perfectly applied. But there was something strange that lurked beneath the surface of icy-blue eyes, like a flame, one that was too stubborn to be snuffed out—brazen, and burning beneath layers of snow and frost. Her face was fair, long hair draped over half of it, but in moments where she turned too fast, or the wind picked up, you could see charred flesh beneath it—a reminder, it seemed, to something she wished to forget.
Her home was warm, the furniture all imported from Mondstadt, a land of freedom that many deserters fantasized about escaping to. A fire burned within the servant's quarters, your colleagues and you huddling by it whenever the night fell and you'd been released from your duties. And yet, despite the feelings of positivity that her choices in furnishings tried to radiate, she seemed to be a bitter woman—locked in invisible shackles and tugged along like a doll. 
Oh, and you knew she was aware of your blind devotion, aware of the way that your back straightened up whenever you heard her heels clicking against wood paneling, aware of the sparks of awe that danced around in still-bright eyes.
What you didn't know, however, was the fact that she'd reward it.
The feeling of her arms languidly wrapping themselves around your waist, tugging you close and trapping you on her lap as she'd complete paperwork. The feeling of long nails gracefully sifting through your hair, tugging out any tangles she'd find along the way because, of course, she was not one to be deterred—and it was impossible to be annoyed by this trait when she'd coo so gently in response to your whimpers. The feeling of your lips on hers, flesh soft but oh so cold, with a near intolerable heat that thrummed beneath it. 
All these feelings, and the ways that she'd allow you to spoil yourself in her love. But how, so quickly, she'd push you from her embrace the second a knocking came at her door, leaving you to compose yourself within a second as she beckoned for her visitors to enter. How they'd leave, and in the next second you'd already be draping yourself against her, bodies intertwining in a hardly useful attempt to combat the room's constant chill. ꒰At the very least, it was more effective for her than you.꒱
How the pathway to her personal chambers would become so familiar, with her commanding you to come and meet her after all of the other soldiers you shared your quarters with drifted off to sleep. And, oh, how you'd listen, awoken before the crack of dawn by the feeling of her lips and a soft hum in order to scurry back before anybody could note your disappearance.
When did all of those feelings become familiar to you?
And, when did those feelings become strange once again?
"The Eighth is dead?!" You hear, once again, a shrill shriek that grates on your eardrums as it reverberates through the common room. Another Fatuus has just been informed of her fate, it seems, a newer recruit from the House of Hearth that you hadn't had the chance to properly introduce yourself to. Not that it even mattered anymore. 
You sigh, for what seems like the hundredth time within the hour, a futile attempt at keeping the tears brimming in your eyes from spilling over, from keeping the wail bubbling inside of your throat from escaping.
La Signora is dead. 
Your lover, dead.
Dead, in a foreign land, practically on the other side of Teyvat, on a mission she'd insisted she'd return alive from.
Dead, on a mission that—when you'd initially questioned her about it—caused a prideful sneer to emerge on her face, familiar fingers gently pinching your lips shut as she teased you for your concern.
Dead, on a mission that she'd outright refused to let you accompany her on, half-jokingly stating that she didn't wish for the other Harbingers stationed there to catch a glimpse at you—stating that they might just fall in love at first glance, and she didn't want to share.
Looking back, you should've protested her decision more, insisted more instead of looking away to hide the red hue dusting your cheeks. You should've begged, even, instead of allowing her to steal a kiss from you, lips lingering with an unspoken promise of return that could now never be fulfilled. You should've followed, even if it would've made her upset, instead of allowing her to depart from the estate and board the one-way ship at the harbor, leaving you behind for good. 
Anything, anything. You should've—would've done anything, if it had the chance of making her stay.
Unlike her fellow Harbingers, you would not be granted the honors of peering into her casket, witnessing her remains before her manor—and her, by extension—are sealed away forever—a memory hidden away in the snow. ꒰You cannot decide if that makes you relieved or upset, because thinking about it for too long instead makes you wish to vomit.꒱ 
Instead, you are made to pack your belongings, flowers native to Mondstadt that she'd gifted you pressed beneath your pillow—not that you even slept on it all that often to begin with. You hold them as though they're made of glass, hands trembling and vision blurring as you attempt to keep even a single one of your teardrops from sullying them.
"What a shame, it is, that she was so far out of the Archons' favor." Comes a hushed murmur from another soldier, a recruit who'd been enlisted around the same time as you, devout to the point where you'd questioned their motivations for joining the ranks of such a morally ambiguous force.
A bitter laugh escapes your mouth at that, shoulders tensing as it devolves into nothing more than a strained sob. And while a part of you aches to destroy them, to rip them apart in some cruel way of reminding yourself that whatever you had with that woman is gone—you don't—simply shoving them back into their hiding space, hoping that they're also preserved within the icy wasteland that will soon take over your old home.
Poor, poor Rosalyne. 
Celestia does not pity the sinners. 
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i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!
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kokomona · 1 month
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i need more ppl to see the vision here.. they’re so gorgeous together. princely knight jean and her queen <3
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jayvolans · 2 years
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𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮
𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄
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Yesterday had been a day of consistent… well inconsistencies for you. Ayato texting you? 0/10, never happens and for good reason. Letting it ruin your day, however? -10/10, absolutely awful, humiliating, mortifying- Meeting a (cute) stranger and actually taking a liking to him? Breaks the scale.
And as much as you wanted to kick yourself for it, you couldn’t help but admit that he was incredibly attractive. In the same way Ayato was. Calculating, elegant, intelligent… you clearly had a type.
Still, talking to him didn’t make you feel self-conscious and he wasn’t condescending, so that was already a plus. Rolling your eyes at your train of thought, you leaned back in your chair and away from your laptop.
At this rate, your homework was never going to get done. The sound of dangerous sizzling certainly didn’t help. At his own specialty desk, Zandik was mixing a blue liquid with some kind of fluorescent green powder. His eyebrows were furrowed as he carefully measured something out, causing you to sigh.
Even out of class and a lab, Zan couldn’t help but tinker around on his own side projects, and while usually he knew exactly what not to do in the house, none of you would ever forget the time he created some kind of toxic vapor and caused an evacuation. After Rosalyn had passed out.
Needless to say, you didn’t want to distract him at this very moment, but you were bored. Usually you would nag Rosalyn until she went shopping with you or Kuni until he agreed to entertain you, but they were both busy.
“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” Zandik mumbled, still observing the semi-violent reaction. You sighed and walked over to him. “Sorry, I’m just bored, I guess. And my essay is kicking my ass, at the moment,” You groaned, plopping your head down onto his shoulder.
Zandik paused before setting down his equipment. “And you want me to entertain you? Why don’t you go text that Alhaitham guy,” He teased, a smirk playing at his lips.
You just rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to him. “Still bitter you got kicked out?” You laughed. He let out a huff before standing, causing you to stumble forward. And you would’ve fallen face first into his experiment if it wasn’t for his hand catching your collar.
“Alright, come on, we’re going out. We could both use a break, clearly.” And who were you to argue with that?
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯❆ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❆ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❆
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯)❧
@whipped-for-fictionals @makimakimi @baelloraa @softlie @starryeyedkoko @alharaea @duhsies @sunsethw4 @thelonelyarchon @dksfl920 @im-bili @kunitales @imkaaayy @daimiyu @nambii @istgnature @1999mercury @certaindreampost @momdancingtomcr @lady-elodie @faela404 @starbbearie @amaruthine @no3hg3nshin @deathkat657 @klementime @temshouineichi @imma-too-many-fandoms @phoenix-eclipses @hydration-is-for-weenies @classy-mc @letthewindlead @kaoyamamegami @nqctre @sassy-cat-in-town @thenightflowers @serenareiss @jaguarthecat @mmm-alhaitham @wishicouldart @hypernovaxx @feverish-dove @dreamhannies @shiningsunrises @annathea-annoona @hotgirlshit5 @toriiee @akarisuzuk1 @zomzomb1e @h-8chi @smash-styles
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sarichicken · 1 year
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crimson witch 🥀
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phungerika · 2 years
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She deserved Better!!
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ayeathelas · 3 months
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rosalyne (y/n) as i imagine her in my fic “the briar rose burns, the phoenix rises” on ao3. slight spoiler? lol— stay tuned for next chapter.
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monoguree · 7 months
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phosbogey · 5 months
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what a kind and reliable group
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allykakamatsu · 9 months
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A Sleeping Phoenix and a Crimson Witch
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Aka, in this AU, Diluc's rampage through Snezhnaya goes a lot differently, and has some major consequences down the line.
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eepilycorrectgenshin · 2 months
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rainbow-taishi · 2 years
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Signora
(hi res on my patreon @ cioccolatodorima)
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aidanisking · 4 months
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Pick a Card, any card pt.1
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phungerika · 2 years
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My Wife , My Everything !
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ayeathelas · 3 months
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more art for my fic “the briar rose burns, the phoenix rises”
playing around with blending modes and figuring out shading
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