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eluxcastar · 2 months

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Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat.

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it.

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

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actiniumwrites · 9 months

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hiya! if your requests are still open could i request a scenario any of the “immortal” characters (e.x: the archons & adepti) with a mortal!reader who exchanges a part of them to become immortal so that they don’t have to worry about leaving the character? the reader’s gender is up to you!

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 (𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄)

synopsis: in which you exchange your vision for immortality, determined to live an eternity with your lover

characters: venti, zhongli, scaramouche, and dainsleif x gn!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of death and mortality, fear of death, mentions of morbid conversations, scaramouche might be a little ooc here, purposefully inaccurate depictions of how celestia and visions work

notes: um so this request was sent to me back in november of 2022, so, anon, i am very sorry it took me so long to write this. i loved the idea a lot so i hope you enjoy this. also i’m not 100% sure scaramouche is immortal, but he’s been around for centuries and isn’t human so we’re just going to assume he is 👍

Venti:

The wind was blowing softly as you walked up to the giant tree, Vennessa’s Tree. You could hear the faint sounds of a lyre playing an alluring tune among it. If your boyfriend was anywhere, it was here…or the bar.

An off key note made your eyes snap up from where you were watching the ground, not expecting him to have heard you so easily.

“Hello, my love!” Venti cheered.

“Hi, Venti,” you lovingly spoke softly, moving to sit down next to him. Your head carefully moved to rest upon his shoulder and he continued to play softly, although this time around, it was a different song — one of your favorites.

A smile pulled at the sides of your lips. It was the first one since you’d gotten back from your journey. The very same journey your boyfriend was unaware of.

When he finished playing it, Venti set the lyre down next to him against a tree root. His face turned serious, “Something’s wrong.”

“Is there?” you played dumb, unsure of how to bring up the topic at hand. Venti didn’t fall for it. He never did.

He began to scan over your body for any sign of injuries, afraid something bad happened. When he saw there was nothing there, his hands gently placed themselves on the sides of your cheeks so he could rotate your head. He smiled the whole time, but you knew he was just masking his concern.

“I can feel it,” he said slowly, eyes squinting as he looked far off into the distance, “something’s different.”

You tried to hold it back, but tears sprung to your eyes. There was no hiding it now, “Venti, I…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurriedly wiped your tears as you looked up at him, “it’s okay, I swear! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just,” you sniffled. The tears weren’t from injuries or hurt feelings, but simply because you were overwhelmed. The entirety of your future was now uncertain aside from the fact that you could no longer face death. You had centuries ahead of you, and it wasn’t something you had before, “my vision. I traded it.”

“What? Why would you…” he mumbled, mind racing back and forth. You loved your vision. It was something you had worked so hard for as a child, a representation of your dedication. It wasn’t like you needed money or anything, so why would you get rid of it?

Through your tear filled eyes, you smiled, “You don’t have to worry anymore, Ven. All those years ahead, we can spend them together.”

“You…you’re…?” he breathed out heavily, realization hitting him all at once. A smile broke through his lips, happy tears of his own were beginning to form, “you did that for me?”

You nodded and he threw himself against you, embracing you tightly. In all the years he had been alive, Venti was sure he would be alone forever. But in life and death, you were with him forever.

Zhongli:

Zhongli hadn’t noticed right away.

He was perceptive, yes, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss with you at first. You often hid things very well. It was one of the only things he didn’t like about you. If something were to go wrong because he wasn’t observant enough with you, Zhongli would feel perpetually guilty.

It wasn’t until weeks after your journey that he had finally realized something had changed.

You seemed normal for the past few weeks. There were a few moments where you were oddly fidgety or anxious, but he chalked it up to the fact that you had just gotten back from a work trip. Perhaps you were tired out from it. Plenty of people came back a little on edge from trips, he had seen it first hand.

When it became continuous, worries began to whisper in his ear. No, he hadn’t thought you cheated or did something bad. Zhongli knew you well enough to know you weren’t that kind of person. If anything, he was worried that something bad had happened to you. That maybe someone hurt you or there was something you couldn’t tell him.

So, he brought it up at dinner one day.

His hand reached across the table, warmly cupping it around yours. His thumb gently traced over the back of it, a soothing action he knew you loved. He inhaled and pursed his lips before bluntly asking, “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did, I want you to know you can tell me and I will take care of it.”

Your face morphed into confusion, awkwardly laughing at his wild assumptions, “I’m sorry, what? Where’d you get that idea?”

Zhongli retracted his hand from yours slowly. His face was now equally as confused as yours, “I apologize, my love. You have been acting rather off since your trip. I thought maybe something bad had happened or someone may have hurt you. Am I incorrect?”

Another awkward laugh fell from your lips before you sighed and averted your eyes to look out the window of the restaurant, “Yes, but nothing bad happened. I’ve just been a little…down about something.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit to the side, “If you were feeling upset, you could have come to me. You know I hate to see you like that.”

“I know, I just,” you started hesitantly, “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

“Tell me…what?”

The whirlwind of emotions you had been feeling over the past few weeks began to hit you harshly and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes, “I traded my vision, Zhongli.”

He took a few seconds to process, but his hand grabbed yours again. He wasn’t sure what you were talking about, but the fact that you were crying was enough to scare him, “I…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I made a deal with Celestia…to be come immortal. In exchange for immortality, they took my vision,” you explained slowly, staring down at the table.

Zhongli rose from his seat slowly before walking to your side of the table. He kneeled down beside you, a few tears springing at his own eyes as he looked directly into yours, “Why would you do that?”

“For you,” you breathed out happily, cupping his face as the tears fell from your eyes “I want to be with you forever, Zhongli.”

Zhongli rose a bit from his place on the floor. Cupping your face with his hands, he kissed you softly, yet eagerly. You could feel the love and passion with in it. All the sadness melted away in an instant.

He had witnessed so many of his friends and past lovers parish before him. Victims to time and mortality. But here you were, willing to sacrifice something you cared for so much to spend an eternity with him.

And in that moment, Zhongli realized he’s never loved someone as much as he’s loved you.

Scaramouche:

You were used to Scaramouche pushing you away when things got rough. Not because he was angry with you or tired of you, but because his emotions were too much to handle. The sadness was too much to bear.

The conversation of immortality had come up very often. A worry of his that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

What would happen when you were gone?

How was he supposed to move on?

Love someone else?

If Scaramouche was being honest, he knew there was no way he could love another. Not after you, the one person he’s ever truly loved and the only one he hasn’t lost. You understood and cared for him in a way that no one else ever had or ever could. Despite not having a real heart, his love for you was so strong enough to make him feel like he did.

When you left for some sort of trip, Scaramouche hadn’t been suspicious of anything. You claimed it was for your job — just a week long trip out of Sumeru to take care of some business. It seemed urgent, according to you at least. He understood and didn’t question any part of your story, even if it did have holes in it.

Although he didn’t show it outwardly, the week without you was rather miserable for him. Anytime you were gone, everything seemed to remind him of the centuries that he had been alone. The people he had watched die or turn on him and how weak he felt. It made him wonder, once again, how he could ever live without you.

When you returned days later, it was late at night. The lights to your shared home were turned off and everything was silent. You dropped your things inside, but before you could head to your room, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend through the window. His hat was cast aside on the grass next to him where he was lying down. The wind was blowing his hair softly across his face as he gazed up at the stars, something you frequently did together.

Coincidentally, it was during those times that the topic of immortality would come up. The stars made Scaramouche sad when he peered up at them. Despite not believing in their genuine existence, he would hate to look up one day and find you among them. Far away from him. Mortality permanently holding you in its grasp.

You silently walked outside to where he was lying down, careful not to disturb him. You laid down next to him, gently taking his hand in yours. His fingers interlocked themselves with yours, but he didn’t bother to turn and look at you, already knowing who it was. When you looked to him, however, his eyes were glistening with small tears, the stars reflecting in them. He looked ethereal, but you hated how sad he looked — eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling his lips downward.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he whispered painfully, voice cracking a bit as his eyes finally met yours.

You send him a fond smile, eyebrows turning upwards, “I’m not leaving anytime soon. You don’t have to worry.”

“But you will,” he started, a hint of anger laced his voice, directed at those who dared to take away the one thing he loved, “You’ll leave eventually. Just like everyone I’ve ever known. It’s only a matter of time.”

You sat up slowly, reaching into the pocket of your pants and grabbing something out. A flash of metal caught Scaramouche’s eye. He sat up instantly, recognizing what the mysterious object was.

It was your vision. The bright shining blue light it normally had was entirely gone, drained of power. Wordlessly, you handed it to him. He grabbed it, but looked up into your eyes with confusion. When he did, he finally noticed the exhaustion and dried tears all over your face.

“What is this?” He angrily inspected the grayed vision in his hands, “What happened to you? If someone hurt you, I swear to you, I’m going to kill them.”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed, interrupting his oncoming burst of anger, “No one hurt me. I did this myself.”

“Start explaining,” he demanded. Although he looked angry, you could see the worry and fear in his eyes.

“I’m tired of these conversations,” you hesitantly started, averting your eyes to a tree in the distance. You could feel your own sad frown pulling at your lips as you fidgeted with the vision he had returned to you. Inhaling, you continued, “If I’m being honest, I’m not okay with leaving you either. It tears me apart to see you like this, Scaramouche. It sounds selfish, but I…I don’t want to think of your life without me. Not when it’s already hurting you this much and I’m not even dead yet.”

You paused to wipe the tears that had unknowingly began to fall from your eyes. Gesturing to the vision, you explained, “The trip I went on wasn’t for work, and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. It was to make an exchange. By trading this with Celestia, I’m no longer mortal.”

Scaramouche’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours and the lifeless vision rested in your hands. A mix of anger, sadness, and relief hit him all at once. Years of memories flashed in his head from all the mistreatment in Inazuma, the Harbingers, and to his newfound life in Sumeru. But most importantly, he saw you and all the ways you’ve loved him ever since you found each other. His voice wobbled a bit, dancing between the lines of neutrality and sadness, “Why would you do that for me?”

You tossed the vision to the side and held his hand again, “My vision may have meant a lot to me, but nothing will ever mean as much to me as you do. I would trade everything I’ve ever owned to be with you forever if that’s how it had to be.”

The two of you laid back down together against the cool grass, staring back up at the stars. This time, however, his arms embraced you tightly. The stars seemed to shine a little more brightly, a little more beautifully. There was no chance for them to take you away from him anymore, and Scaramouche was forever grateful for that.

Dainsleif:

The burden of immortality sat heavily on Dainsleif’s shoulders. It was a curse he bore, but not one he would wish onto anyone else. It was painful, unkind, and often struck those who deserved it the least.

When you had found him, you were not originally aware of the fact that he had been among those who were affected by it. You knew he originated from Khaenri’ah, but you supposed he was like your old friend Kaeya, who was also from there, but was not a bearer of the curse.

Admittedly, it was difficult to be in relationship with Dainsleif at times because of it. He trusted you wholeheartedly, but there was always this lingering sense of doom in his eyes. There were times when he would get close with you, share his past and his deepest desires, but then he would pull away. It was a constant game of back and forth with him.

You were aware it was because he was scared, terrified even. Dainsleif had lived a long life of loss and sadness. He had failed in his duties as the Twilight Sword and, because of that, he was forced to witness the death and destruction of everyone and everything he loved around him. Anyone he had ever loved he had lost, and he couldn’t stand to watch that happen to you too.

You couldn’t bear it equally as much. Dainsleif was the best person to ever have come into your life. Someone you knew could never hurt you. Someone who showed you more love than anyone else ever had. Your love for each other was like no other. The only thing that could truly separate you from him would be death, and he would love you until that day came.

As painfully beautiful as that was, it saddened you to a degree that nothing else could. You did not want to lose him as much as he did not want to lose you. And so, you decided to lessen his punishment. Immortality was supposed to curse him with loneliness and suffering, but that loneliness wouldn’t exist if you were by his side for the rest of time.

You left as soon as possible, vision stored away in your satchel and a notebook in hand. It was your notebook that held your recipes. As a chef, there were all sorts of ingredients across Teyvat that you had to often import or travel to obtain. It was the perfect excuse to leave without him raising suspicion. Because, although Dainlsleif detested the Gods and Celestia, he would never let you do what you were about to do. Not for him, and not for anyone else. Not even for yourself.

It took you about a week to return.

Dainsleif noticed instantly something was different when you returned. It was a little past midnight. He was sitting at the table of your home, window open to his left to let the cool breeze sift through the house. He had been scribbling away at a map when the door walked open, and in walked you.

There were dark circles around your eyes, a conflicting look swirling within them. Part of you looked relieved, while the other part looked saddened. His eyebrows furrowed as you stumbled in through the doorway, whispering a small greeting to him. Quickly, he was by your side and hugging you dearly.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, voice just barely above a whisper. You leaned against him, head tucked gently into his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen. Silently, you nodded.

Dainsleif carefully brought you to the couch in the living room, sitting you down gently and setting your belongings on the small table in front of you. The breeze from the window drafted through again, strong enough to make you shiver. In an instant, Dainsleif was up and moving to shut it quickly so you could be warm and comfortable.

“Something’s wrong,” he started, hand moving to cup your face as you gazed into his eyes tiredly, “I know you aren’t just tired. So please, tell me what happened on your trip.”

You crumbled in an instant, unable to lie to his face, “I traded my vision. I’m sorry, I wasn’t actually going to get ingredients.”

Confusion settled even deeper into his blood as he stared at you, unable to comprehend what you were talking about, “Trade your vision for…what? Why would you need to trade your…oh.”

When he realized, you nodded carefully. The silence that followed suit scared you. You often had a hard time reading him, especially now.

His next reaction shocked you, however. Tiny traces of tears sprung to his eyes, threatening to pour over at any second. Your eyebrows furrowed, but before you could say anything, Dainsleif quickly leaned in and kissed you. Your eyes closed and you returned it, feeling the sadness, desperation, and love behind it. When he pulled away, you could see two or three tears had fallen from his eyes.

Gently, you wiped them away and hugged him tightly. He held you tightly in return, and silently, you both laid back against the couch. Exhaustion hit the two of you at once, knocking you out as you slept within each other’s arms. You had been exhausted from your trip and all the emotions you had felt from it. As for Dainsleif, his exhaustion from being cursed had eased up a bit on him. It him all at once, the realization and the lack of loneliness or worries he would have to deal with from now on. There was no more till death due you part, because finally, Dainsleif had you for forever and you had him.

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https-furina · 8 months

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✎ i wasn’t ready to say goodbye [various men - part two] ft. lyney, zhongli, childe, ayato, alhaitham, cyno & tighnari x fem!reader content: angst, heavy trigger warnings for death, blood, injuries, gore & murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers (lyney), hurt no comfort, suggestive for a moment (zhongli), sumeru archon quest spoilers (alhaitham), ooc ayato (i'm not confident with him, sorry) not proofread.

detective's notes. this is the second part to the 'i wasn't ready to say goodbye' series i've started following aly's request, which is part one and you can find it here.

lyney put a lot of trust and faith into you the moment you'd uttered precious sweet nothings to him and promises you swore you'd keep. the magician was hopeful that for once potentially things were going right, he was landing on his feet if it wasn't for the heavy, nagging feeling working for the fatui left on his shoulders. it suffocated him, no matter how many loving smiles you'd send his way. he could drown every moment in your familiar scent - his home, his four walls but it would never rid him of his actions.

even when he so blindly puts that trust and faith into the auspicious blond traveler travelling teyvat and bringing nothing but destruction in their wake.

a shaking gloved hand reaches out for your silhouette against the backdrop of crackling fires, embers rising into the deep night sky like fireflies. dilated lilac eyes search your facial expressions but they keep trailing that to that blade piercing through your abdomen, soaked in the precious liquid you need so desperately. he doesn't understand - he didn't do anything wrong. he'd followed every rule in the book, he'd been a good man, he swears! yet that look of fear on your face and the hatred in the traveler's eyes... he's lost. the traveler yanks their arm back, withdrawing their sword without another word. no explanation, nothing that could ease lyney's mind as he rushes forward to catch you in his arms, falling to the floor with you when your vision darkens. the loss of the blade in your wound results in a heavier blood loss, nothing is there to stagger the waterfall that leaks through your attire and lyney is desperately pressing his hands to your wound but to no avail. "y/n?" he murmurs, panicked and breathless as he hyperventilates and his eyes burn from tears. your eyelashes are fluttering, lips parted as shallow breaths escape you but no words come out. you do not respond, prompting lyney to continue begging you, "please, hold on, i'm sorry - i'm so sorry y/n-" he doesn't care to know where the traveler disappeared to. the fires roar louder in his ears, competing with the rush of blood that's sending him crazy. he can hear his own pulse thudding, heavy as he watches the light drain from your eyes. words are flurrying from his lips, his voice cracking as he wonders whether begging to the hydro archon will get him anywhere. but it doesn't when your tense shoulders fall limp, your head rolling to the side as one last breath intakes into your lungs. he promised you his work would never affect you. he promised the traveler his eternal loyalty and the concept that he was a good guy. he never lied but when he's sobbing into the crook of your neck, hugging your body close, he can't help but think his entire being was built on a web of tightly knit lies created by the fatui.

zhongli vowed that falling in love with a mortal would be unwise, he knew from the very start when amber eyes as warm as cor lapis landed on you from across the room. it was like there was a pull, a tug in your direction and the benevolent man had no choice but to approach - just like that you had the archon wrapped around your finger, not that you knew. he couldn't tell you, no, that would be even more unwise and he'd already made one grave mistake swallowing pretty moans when his lips pressed to yours in the dead of the night.

but if it had protected you from those who wanted his blood, who wanted him to hurt and his heart to ache, would it have been wise? for then, he would not have to relive this stabbing grief once more.

sal terrae remained one of his favourite spots of his country, with dazzling waterfalls and memoirs of the god of salt - a memory long drifting away - he could spend days here, camped out under a tree and listening to the calm that nature brings. but this is not the sal terrae he remembers, no. not the blood splattered on the dirt ground beneath you or the way there's a small, delicate red river trickling out of the corner of the mouth he'd kissed so many times before. he should have known not to trust the fatui the way he had whilst they were in liyue - specifically that damn ginger harbinger and the bank. he scowls, brows knitting together as he hesitantly takes a step forward. he considers whether you'll yell at him, scream and cry out in anger for his mistakes. after all, perhaps you would have not been pierced in the chest so brutally had he protected you and even more so, if he hadn't lied about his identity. you don't. you gasp out for breath, choking on blood as you cough it up. it dribbles down your chin, an horrific scene. he'd seen many in his thousands of years walking teyvat, he'd seen so much mortal blood it felt like water by this point but seeing your specific blood clawed at his heart. he wishes he could forget the vision, forget the way there are tears glittering as they spill down your cheeks. zhongli feels an immense amount of guilt and he knows the heavy weight of it will drag on his ankles for the rest of his existence. "z-zhongli?" you croak out, your vision blurring as you make out the tall man from where he stands. you reach out, your hand covered in your own blood from where you were just holding your chest. blood seeps through your clothing, the reality is starting to hit zhongli more. he approaches quicker, hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe your tears. he isn't sure how to comfort you - perhaps he can't. the adrenaline is fading, you're feeling the burn of your wound every time you gasp for breath. your lungs hurt, your head feels light. zhongli wraps an arm around your waist quickly when your knees give in, lowering you to the ground softly. he kneels at your side, swallowing the lump in his throat. "i'm... i'm sorry, my love..." he whispers, unsure if that's the apology he wants to drop right now. you're fading in and out of consciousness, your bloodied hand clutching at his coat as if he's the one who is going to fade away at any moment now. zhongli grimaces, the unfamiliar sting of tears in his eyes as he watches the way your chest doesn't rise again.

childe cherishes you to the point of possession. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, he'll remind you at least once daily. if it doesn't come out of his mouth verbally, he'll show it in the form of actions, gifts, anything he can consider a love language - you have to convince him that killing people who look in your direction is not a love language.

his wealth brings unnecessary trouble as well as his association with the northland bank. there are many souls in liyue who would crave for an ounce of it, at any means possible.

he doesn't remember ever giving you a reason to leave the front door wide open - not that you need a reason but it's the peak of winter in liyue and you always complain at the thought of heat escaping through cracks in the window. upon closer inspection, the harbinger sees that the door handle is busted, hanging on by a limb. there's a sudden pang of anxiety in his chest, his gloved hand pushing the door wide open. childe is met with the sights of shattered glass and broken pottery, porcelain decorating wooden floorboards. there's a lump in his throat now, making it hard to breathe as he calls your name out and begins to frantically search your shared house. he can hear your whimpers, your soft begs to not hurt you as he approaches the kitchen. there's a bloodied kitchen knife on the floor beside you but his eyes land sooner on the puddle of deep red liquid staining your clothes and the floorboards beneath you. the blood is seeping from your neck, your voice strangled and gurgled when you cough up more blood onto the floor. your fearful eyes meet his blue ones and you choke out a sob. "c-childe- ajax.." you cry out any name you can but it's barely a whisper when you finally realise there's no one else here to attack you. his eyes are cold, his blood running even colder when he grips at the bow in his hands, his knuckles turning white and he swears he'll kill whoever did this to you. he swears that they'll feel his wraith, he'll spill their blood and he'll taint teyvat's ocean with it until they remember his archons forsaken name. when he doesn't respond to his name, you sob once more and he snaps to reality, dropping his bow as he kneels at your side. he peels his gloves off, his hands still warm as he clears your neck to look at your wound clearer. you wince, whimpering and whining at any form of contact as you grow fainter, hands weakly grabbing at childe's clothing. "i'll kill them, i swear baby - i'll make them pay, they'll regret ever coming near you-" childe's tone is sharp, stabbing the solemn air as you struggle to breathe, gasping for your final breaths. you can't even form the words to argue back against him, to tell him that killing people doesn't solve everything. that silence kills him. it sends him insane as he watches you helplessly die in front of him. he hyperventilates, brows knit together in frustration. you were supposed to argue back, tell him he's wrong. why didn't you? he shakes your shoulders gently but you're limp, unresponsive.

ayato is not a man of many words nor actions, you should have seen it coming the moment you married a socialiate, let alone the head of his clan. the man has an image to maintain and that is not limited to the likes of his wife either. you do not mind, heavily avoiding the limelight of inazuma's tabloids. ayato can do many things to protect you from scenarios like that as the commissioner of the yashiro commission.

he could not have foreseen enemy clans using you, his devoted wife against him and he could have not particularly predicated this scenario.

"who did this?" his words cut the silence, it's tense and heavy. all that resonates in the courtyard is your desperate gasps for breath, your brows knitted together as you try to recall anything about your attackers but nothing comes of it. there's no one but the two of you around, ayato had long sent everyone on a wild goose chase to find who did this to you. red soaks the white of his sleeves, hanging in the pool of blood you lay in. ayato lets out a shaking breath, there's a tight feeling in his chest. did he feel guilt? potentially. he trusted himself enough to protect you, he swore he'd never fail you. it seems he'd failed himself in that regard too. "i-i... love you..." you whisper shakily, weak and barely audible above the winds of inazuma that blow through the kamisato estate's courtyard. ayato grimaces, a cool hand cupping the soft skin of your cheek. shadowed eyes belonging to that of your beloved husband drink in the sights of your blemishes, your insecurities - the things that he has forever found beautiful. "yes... yes, i know, dear," he reassures softly, his voice cracking ever-so-slightly as he gives you a broken smile, "i love you too." you're beginning to fade out of consciousness, the blood loss taking you in its toll when your chest becomes heavy and you're struggling to find the strength to breathe. ayato coaxes you to keep going, to keep trying for him. just hold on a little longer, he promises, clasping your bloodied hands in his. he does not care for the liquid staining his clothing, it is yours and anything of yours is precious to him. but his reassurances and promises begin to fall on deaf ears when he is the only person left breathing in the courtyard of his home, his sacred sanctuary he swore would be safe for you. it's always been safe for him but as he cries out into the night, exposing his vulnerability in the moment of being alone, he wonders why it could have not been for you, truly.

alhaitham claims he has no reasoning for falling in love. he's a busy man, especially when he's thrust into the role of the acting grand safe following his expeditions helping the traveler free lesser lord kusanali. but between stacks of paperwork and arguing with one particular blond in the house of daena, turquoise eyes find you, another ordinary scholar of the akademiya. he swears he had no intentions of knowing you further than polite words shared as you pass each other in the halls.

is that why months later when he doesn't hear from you while you're out researching in the desert, he decides to go searching for you in a worry he'd never voice aloud?

thick, red liquid is binding the sand together under you, dripping from your open wound across your side. your attire is ripped, the wind occasionally blowing sharp granules of sand onto your exposed wound and causing you to yell out in pain. alhaitham is pale, his eyes wide. he should have trusted his gut sooner when you stopped writing back to him, keeping him updated on your adventures out in the desert. better yet, perhaps he should have just came with you in the first place. there are no polite words shared in the heavy atmosphere as you pant for breath. alhaitham is no better, struggling to breathe at the sight of one of the only people he'd allowed this close bleeding out in front of him. his eyes don't leave your wound, you're way too far from the bimarstan for him to get you help. you fall to your knees and alhaitham follows, his hands fumbling as he struggles to remove his cloak and wrap it around your shoulders. you're in the middle of the desert and yet you're drenched in a cold sweat, hugging his cloak around you tighter. you breathe in his familiar scent, it's warm and hugs you back. it's comforting when the wound burns harsher on your side. alhaitham should have known better than to let you venture into the desert alone, the guilt biting at him aggressively when he pulls you into his chest, burying his face into your hair. he drinks you in, feeling your shallow breaths against the shell of his ear. he listens helplessly as the seconds between your breaths become longer and they become quieter to the point he no longer feels them anymore. he refuses to pull away from you, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as your skin turns cold beneath him. he's in denial, his breaths struggled when your arms fall from around him, limp. just a little longer... he'll wake up and you'll be in front of his desk once more, that wide smile almost rubbing off on him.

cyno warned you the moment you'd figured you had a chance at getting so close to the general mahamatra - he worked a dangerous job and not only that, he himself was a dangerous man. yet you were stubborn, initiating a conversation with him any chance you got. had he been on an expedition recently? did he have any criminal arrest stories to tell your curious mind? cyno could almost chuckle at how much his work did not seem to bother a citizen like you.

he should have held his breath as he ran from the akademiya to treasures street, having been told of a murder happening in broad daylight of sumeru's summer.

"what happened?" "oh archons.." "is she dead?" cyno scowls at all the voices, the questions, the intrusion of a victim's privacy as he pushes through the crowds of civilians. his brows are knit together, trying to comprehend the idea that someone would be brave enough to commit such a vile act in broad daylight like this. a matra tries to stop him, reassuring him the case is covered but cyno shakes his head, pushing further. ruby eyes fall to the body that lies on the ground, half covered by a white sheet. the pavement below is pooled in blood that seeps through the cracks and stains the cream colour of the tiles, soaking into the white sheet being used cover for privacy. he takes note of that familiar anklet around the victim's ankle and it feels as though his whole world just came crashing. "general mahamatra, sir?" the matra from before asks wearily, appearing beside him as cyno is yet to say anything. there's a lump in cyno's throat that won't budge even though he keeps swallowing, he tries to put it down to dehydration in the summer heat but he's never struggled before, "eremites, sir." cyno wanders to you slowly, catching sight of the way your familiar hair spills out from underneath the sheet. he was hoping that the anklet was just coincidence, it was a gift from him when he'd ventured to aaru village one day but that was most definitely your hair - it was definitely your hand that peeked from the cloth. he shakily reaches for it, attempting to keep his calm in front of so many eyes. the voices whisper, gasps and sorrowful when he kneels next to your body in a rigid silence, his knuckles white from his grip on your cold hand. he chews his tongue, hoping you'll wake up and scold him for having such a strong grip and not being more gentle but you don't budge. the sheet doesn't lift, the blood doesn't disappear as if it was a bad dream. he knew you'd be in danger at his side. he has enemies, many of them. ones he has never cared for before, never bothered to utter an ounce of consideration in their direction but the man was very much aware of their existence. you was a weak spot for him, a vulnerable moment with soft, shared kisses and gentle, lingering touches. he should have known. the guilt eats at him, it follows him to bed that night where the empty pillow beside him witnesses his pillow soak in salty tears.

tighnari was head over heels from the beginning. you'd finished your studies in the amurta darshan and had promptly beelined for the avidya forest to gandharva ville, much happier out in the nature than you had been cooped up in the house of daena. if anything, he also saw you as the most dedicated forest ranger in gandharva ville. he loved that particularly.

he related to your need to protect the avidya forest with your life, you was so passionate about it but he didn't expect you to physically use your life to protect it.

there was definitely something protruding from your chest, no amount of blinking was going to make it vanish now. tighnari's tail droops as he rushes to your side, sending one last arrow in the direction of a treasure hoarder, piercing him in the neck. you're alone now, left in a vulnerable state as tighnari eases you against the green grass you've valued more than your own life. "nari?" you ask softly, confused as to why those precious, fluffy ears were flattened against black hair the way that they were. tighnari assumed the adrenaline of battle hadn't fully worn off and you had caught a glimpse of the arrow buried into your heart, which was beginning to slow its pulse as it keeps your body going. blood oozes out of your ranger uniform, something you wore with the utmost pride. "i'm here, love," he chokes out, a sharp sensation stinging at emerald eyes as he pulls his gaze away from the arrow lodged in your chest to those eyes he treasured so much, "you know i love you - right? you'll always... be mine?" your brows knit together, eyes glancing over his face. why does he look so sad? the concept of him reminding you foxes mate for life was nothing new but he always seemed so joyous when he'd remind you - this was different. there's a stiff feeling in your chest and your eyes fall down to it, where tighnari's gloved hand is gently laid around an arrow pierced into your skin. he's not attempting to pull at it nor apply pressure, he is simply keeping his hand close to the thing that meant the most to him - your heart, specifically while it's still beating. "i love you too, nari." you finally realise what's happening, the corners of your vision going dark and hazy as you admire the fox male once more. he'll be the last thing you see, laying on the grass of your home, the avidya forest. he'll be your last comfort, the last thing you smell and touch. you know it was reckless to have put your life on the line in such a way but you would have done anything to protect the forest. tighnari lets out a wail into the calm of the avidya forest, praying that someone hears his cries of sorrow. your skin is cold to touch hours later but tighnari has not left your side, his tail curled around your body with only an emptiness left in his chest in your absence.

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yandere-3-sagau · 1 year

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Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Pt 2

Short Summary: Zhongli knows that it’s you and he can’t wait to meet you as the first one to recognize the creator and officially welcome you. (sorry there’s no intense chase yet, sort of a filler chapter)

characters: Childe, Zhongli

warning(s): ooc characters, lowkey degenerate behavior from Zhongli

word count: 1551

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─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───

You manage to get home without any interruptions. Grandpa Fuyi, the farmer that took you in, noticed your heavy breathing.

He sat up in his chair, grabbing his cane. Wiping the sweat from your face, you urged him to stay seated.

“I’m alright! I just… saw a few hilichurls on my way back and got scared.”

His grey brows furrowed. “Thank archons you’re alright. It’s dangerous for you to be traveling alone. Why don’t you take a break from selling?”

“About that… I’ve been thinking of traveling.”

Grandpa Fuyi was silent for a bit.

“Did you remember your real family?”

When you had first arrived, you knew it was impossible to tell him that you’re from another world. Instead, you told him that you’re lost and have no recollection of your past.

“I knew you’d eventually want to return to your life before, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon.” He sighed shakily.

“No! That’s not it…”

Your heart breaks seeing the frail man. You can’t possibly leave him alone. But you are scared. You aren’t sure if the geo archon would come searching for you and you don’t want to involve the one person to give you shelter. You think about what your next set of actions are when Grandpa Fuyi speaks after a long strip of silence.

“Will you let me come with you?”

You are frozen in shock. He sees your reaction and continues speaking.

“I know I’m old and it’ll be difficult to travel with me, but I’ve always dreamed of visiting other nations before I pass…”

You pause, weighing out the options in your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “It may be dangerous…”

“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like to travel the world with you.”

He gives you a smile with such kind eyes that you can’t help but tear up as you hug him tightly. How can you abandon the one person to help you in this unfamiliar world?

The two of you prepare, quite quickly, to leave Liyue. Using your knowledge from your previous world, you create a collapsible wheelchair for Grandpa Fuyi that would make it easy to travel in. The money you made from selling your miracle vegetables is enough for the two of you to travel comfortably and is enough to last a lifetime. With your bags packed and an optimistic smile on your face, the two of you set out to head to your next destination, the land of eternity… Inazuma.

—

Early the next day, before the sun has even risen, Zhongli returns to the stall and sees that it’s not yet open and that the person he has been thinking of all night is no where to be seen.

Feeling that it is quite early, he decides to wait for you to come. He waits until the sun is high in the sky. Then he waits till the sky is purple. Despite standing for a whole day, Zhongli doesn’t move an inch from his spot.

He has to confirm it.

Even with this thought in mind, he knows deep in his heart that it it’s you. He knows that the creator has descended. Zhongli can feel it in his gut and with every fiber of his being. You’re here.

Zhongli waits for days in the same spot, neither eating nor drinking. Passersby’s stare at him as if he’s crazy and some even offer food. Zhongli refuses them all, only one thought in mind.

Creator, creator, creator… where are you?

—

It’s been a while since Childe visited Liyue other than short business trips and missions for the Fatui.

Childe is heading towards Northland Bank when he sees Zhongli, standing as still as a statue next to an empty stall.

He decides to greet him, walking over to the former geo archon.

“What are you up to?” He asks him, seeing the serious expression on his face.

“I’m waiting for someone.” Zhongli’s answers are brief, nothing but determination in his eyes.

Around him, Childe can hear the whispers of the people who pass by.

“That man is still standing there…”

“How many days has it been?”

“Is he even human?”

Childe’s eyes narrow.

What’s so important about this stall that the Geo Archon himself waits days on end for?

His eyes examine the stall closely. Nothing special stands out. However, as he is examining it, he sees a small white handkerchief poking out from behind the stall on the opposite side of where Zhongli is standing.

“Who are you waiting for?” Childe asks as he casually walks over to the handkerchief. “They must be very important for you to be waiting this long.”

Zhongli doesn’t spare him a glance. “A vegetable merchant,” he says simply. Childe rolls his eyes, discreetly picking up the handkerchief and shoving it into his pocket.

“Wow, how informative,” he says sarcastically. “Well I hate to be the one to break it to you, but if you’ve been waiting here for this long, chances are whoever you’re waiting for is long gone.”

Hearing this, Zhongli finally moves. The former geo archon was so absorbed in thoughts about what he’d say and how he’d react when he finally meets the creator that he didn’t realize how long he has actually been waiting.

“You’re right.” Zhongli wastes no more time waiting and leaves to search for them.

“Nice… just leave me hanging, no problem. I’ve been good by the way, thanks for asking!” Childe calls out to him.

As Zhongli walks to each nearby stall, asking for information about the vegetable merchant, Childe pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket.

His eyes scan over it, noticing smears of gold staining the white cloth.

Paint?

His thumb rubs over the smear, noticing that it’s a different texture than the usual paint used in Liyue.

Childe lifts the cloth to his face, taking in a deep whiff. As someone who survived the abyss and the youngest Fatui Harbringer, Childe’s senses are not to be messed with. Though it’s been days, there’s a small scent that anyone else would not have been able to recognize… but Childe, someone who has experienced his fair share of fights, is able to recognize it instantly.

… blood.

The puzzle pieces in his head click together so fast that he’s barely able to react. Childe stares at the cloth as if it’s the most special and rare artifact in all of the land of Teyvat.

A handkerchief with golden blood and the oldest archon guarding a shabby vegetable stall. Childe knows that this could only mean one thing.

The creator has descended.

With his heart beating faster than ever, Childe quickly leaves. He has to let the Tsarista know before Zhongli can find them. Childe smiles giddily, excitement filling his body.

—

After following the directions given to him by the townspeople, Zhongli finds himself in front of the small house you lived in with Grandpa Fuyi.

The wooden boards creak as he steps on the porch. Zhongli cringes, seeing the decrepit state of the small home.

Is this where their beloved creator has been staying?

Zhongli sighs. He will be sure to build you a grand palace for you to live in once he finally meets you.

He lightly knocks on the door with anticipation. A few seconds pass with no response. He knocks a bit harder and waits. After a few minutes pass of complete silence, Zhongli lets himself in.

He walks around the small home, examining it closely. Other than a small living area and kitchen, there are two small rooms. The first room he enters is lightly decorated with a few antiques littered here and there.

Were they living with someone? Zhongli asks in his head…a bit of jealousy shakes his heart. How lucky they must be to have lived with the creator…

The next room he enters is almost completely bare other than a small bed in the corner of the room. Zhongli knows immediately in his heart that it’s your’s.

The creator’s room…

Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath, almost as if he’s basking in your presence. It’s like he can feel you…

Zhongli walks over to the bed, sitting on top of it. His hands caress the sheets, feeling the slight roughness of the cloth beneath his fingertips.

This is where the creator slept…

He lifts the blanket up, burying his face into the cloth and breathing in deeply with the nose of a dragon. He can smell you… he pulls away after a few seconds, feeling a bit dizzy.

From what he can tell, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve left. You must be close, he thinks. He smiles with eyes filled of devotion and exhilaration.

It won’t be long before you meet, Zhongli thinks. He awaits the day he is able to kneel before your feet and officially welcome you to the land of Teyvat.

Zhongli finally leaves the small house to follow your trail before it fades. He decides not to tell a soul of his discovery, thinking that it’d be best not to release the news so as to not spark any chaos.

… but in truth… Zhongli wants to be the first one to find you. The first to welcome you and become your most trusted acolyte.

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(sorry guys, i know a lot of you were expecting something big. Honestly, i had no plans to continue this but i randomly had a thought about it and decided to write this. I’ve been so busy and stressed with school so it’s been a while since I’ve had time to write anything. It’s a bit plain but I hope you guys like it! Next chapter will be more intense…probably…hopefully…)

taglist:

@allblognamesaretakenlikereally @kokxm1 @leafinapuddle @probablynoposts @tonightwrites @tiffthescales @dakotali @xxxastridexxx @sparklyphantom @ursinaw @d0rmiens-fact0rem @iruiji @turningmad @moonlilliesinthegarden @java-lava @chihawari @yanderesarentagoodidea @5-stirling-heartstrings @smokey-cat @raingoesboomboom @cheritastic @rugiebugie @thelocal-idiot @minteasketches @pwisoned @blueberryhitosh1 @eliaspspspsp @extremelytoastybread @angelkazusstuff @whinnywhale @thedevioussmirk @ravenswife @goldenglow149 @a-person-with-many-likes @noisychildnut

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lemon-boy-stan · 6 months

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Helloooo. Do we leave requests here? I don’t know. I’m just a potato.

anyway, what about Genshin tall men waking up in the middle of the night and thoughts come tumbling in? Could be safe, nsfw, comedy, whatever you like. (But please make Zhongli’s disgustingly sweet because I am so in love with him). Thank you for listening to my ramblings

if this is the wrong method… I’m sorry >.<

Hii!! This is the right way to request!! I'm sure you're not a potato 😭😭 anyway here's your request!! Also I hope you dont mind but I turned it into a full one-shot with zhongli!!! Ummmm yes he has two cocks in this teehee

HERBAL TEA - Rex Lapis x Reader

SUMMARY: Zhongli can't sleep as it's mating season. It's been centuries with him as your husband, but there are still many secrets he has kept hidden from you, many insecurities. GENRE: Fluff, SMUT. Kinda ooc. MINORS DNI. WARNINGS: monsterfucking, breeding, use of the word "pet", "mate", penetration, p in v, unprotected sex, some blood, messy cum, zhongli has a forked tongue, zhongli has two cocks. It's also mentioned that zhongli makes the reader immortal with his icor (that's the ooc stuff). Really filthy smut 😭😭. Also, reader is female!

It was late at night; early morning. You'd woken up suddenly, hearing a loud thud. You looked to the left side of the bed, reaching out for your husband.

Zhongli's side of the bed was cold, and empty. You turned on the bedside lamp, bare chest cold, you scavenged from r the nearest piece of clothing you could find, one of your husband's massive button-down shirts, drowning in it like a dress. You got up, the moonlight shining on your skin.

"Zhongli," you called softly for him. You hugged yourself, walking out of the master bedroom. Zhongli stood at the kitchen table, making a pot of herbal tea. You smiled softly, walking over. He was in his half-dragon form, arms black and shimmering golden. He was growing more comfortable like this, every century since you'd been immortal.

"Morax," you bowed, walking over. He put the teapot down, smiling softly, "my dear, what are you doing awake?" He took your hand and kissed it before twirling you so he could wrap you in his arms. Last night had been one of the best of your life. Zhongli was possessive, but evidently, dragons did not share their treasure, as you had learnt from flirting with a man in the court of Fontaine.

"Your side of the bed was cold," you complained, "I missed you." Zhongli was a light sleeper. As if reading your mind, he hugged you tight, kissing the side of your neck, the texture of his forked tongue making you arch your back in pleasure.

Morax chuckled, "I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to make tea. Then I was reading, but I got distracted... I finished my tea, and I'm making another one... Then I was thinking... My love," he whispered softly, "I need to mate soon." Was that shame in his voice? Why was he ashamed? He bowed his head, "I am getting restless. And now that you are ready, now that I've fed you my ichor for centuries, I must reveal all of myself to you. I can't control it."

Ah. So this at least, explained his sudden change in behaviour. Yes, many years ago, before getting married to him, before becoming immortal, Zhongli had asked, if you were able to withstand so many years of being alive. Yes, you'd told him, he was the man you loved, and you'd gladly be by his side forever.

But he still had so many secrets, he'd said, secrets he wasn't ready to share yet. He was a god, after all. He was a god, yes, but he was also the love of your life. You'd told him this, that eternity with him would be a paradise.

"In order to fulfil the mating process," he explained softly, "I must go through a series of changes. My human form, is quie different to my half-god form, which is why I always make love to you in my human disguise. When I am like this, my body is different. You will notice my tongue is forked. I apologise for hiding it from you for so long, my dear. In order to complete the process... I must... I'm afraid I must... Mate you with both... Both of my cocks."

You gasped, shocked. He looked at you, fear in his golden eyes, which were bright and on the verge of tears. "I am sorry for hiding it for so long," he choked, shame in his voice. "I tried to conceal it, but my body... It's why I was so different last night. Your scent, even after all these years... I needed to mate with you. I understand if you don't want to. I am not sure what will happen. I have never done this before, with a human. I-" you kissed him.

He groaned into the kiss, tightening his grip around your body. You looked up into his big, yellow eyes. "Rex Lapis," you spoke, making his ichor run through him, "you do not understand, do you?" And he cocked his head as you smiled, "I am yours. You asked me all those years ago. I was so in love with you. I am so in love with you. I want nothing more than this. I want nothing more than you, always and forever, to be your wife, to be your mate."

And Zhongli growled. He picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom, throwing you softly onto the bed. "Are you sure you want this?" You nodded, looking up at him, "yes, Rex Lapis, please." And all he did was laugh, "my love, you won't be able to take them."

Zhongli crawled on you, growling and snorting animalistically, the sound of his belt being unbuckled and clattering echoing in the room. "I am not stopping until this cunt is full of my offspring. Do you consent, pet?" You nodded meekly. He was so powerful, even after centuries of drinking his ichor you still felt beneath him.

"I need to hear it, my love. Do you consent?" He kissed your neck, licking his forked tongue up and down your body, making your toes curl. "I consent," you breathed lustfully, "I consent." He let out a hot breath of air, "good." And with that, Zhongli thrust both of his cocks inside of you, no warning and no preparation.

You screamed loudly, pain washing over you at the foreign feeling of his second cock. Had they grown larger? They felt bigger than usual. You sobbed loudly, gripping onto the headboard behind you. Zhongli was only spurred on by the tears. It hurt, but felt so good. This was why he had been training you, you realised, to take both his cock and a crystal toy at the same time. But nothing prepared you for this.

You could feel all of him. All of his rage, his jealousy, his obsession, his greed, his love, his sadness, his happiness, flowing through you, golden waves surrounding both of your bodies in the bed. You moaned loudly, feeling all of his emotions, all of his strength, his power. It was so much. "Feel what I feel," he snarled, "understand what it's like to be in your prescence."

Nothing but his name left your lips, "Zhongli, Zhongli, Zhongli," feeling far too good to think, to even notice the gold blood leaking from your cunt as Morax dragged both of his cocks along your walls. "Do you know how much I've had to restrain my true form?" He roared, ignoring your sobs, thrusting harder each time. "Do you know how fucking insatiable you are? Do you know how weak you make me? You? A mere human? The only human I've ever fed my ichor, the only human I've given my offspring, the only human I've ever loved before?" Do you know how obsessed I am with you?!"

You shook your head, "more, Rex Lapis, more!" Babbling the words through tears, smelling his thoughts and emotions, too overwhelmed with power. Too fucked by both of his cocks. He snorted, slamming them back inside you. You screamed, a painful orgasm crashing down on you. "Yes," he hissed, "yes. Cum all over me, pet. Yes... Cum all around my cocks, just like that. Yes, yes, yes..." Zhongli's groans filled the room, the gold waves growing bigger and bigger.

You were shaking of an orgasm, panting for breath. Zhongli roared loudly, and you could sense it coming, tears streaming down his face, the black and gold of his arms engulfing his entire body as he came, roaring wordlessly through the night, the entire house shaking, drowned in a gold light, smelling of sex. His cum dripped down your legs, there was just so much.

Rex Lapis was still for a while, and you were afraid he was injured. Then he smiled fondly at you, the black and gold evaporating from his body, his half-dragon form morphing back into his human form, although you noticed some things were still in tact. He pulled out and looked at you, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Was I okay?" He was still hovering above you, cleaning your legs and the sheets. You pulled him close to you, kissing him. The tears fell from his face and you realised he was scared. Terrified. You smiled at him softly, "you were beautiful, Rex Lapis, beautiful." And for the first time in his life, the god let out a soft giggle.

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you liked it!

#zhongli #rex lapis #morax #zhongli smut #rex lapis smut #morax smut #zhongli x reader #rex lapis x reader #zhongli x you #rex lapis x you #morax x you #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #zhongli imagine #rex lapis imagine #morax imagine

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wanderingconstellations · 10 months

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500+ FOLLOWER SPECIAL

You requested this, so....

Adept!Reader and Rex Lapis on their wedding night.

FUCK YEAH‼️‼️ SORRY IF THIS WAS RUSHED, BUT ENJOY‼️‼️

gn!adepti!reader, COULD BE OOC!!!

You're an adepti..but you're married to the one who you called your god.

And it was your wedding night, and you've never ever done something like this before...But lucky for you, your husband here is happy to lead you.

"There, there, dear. There's no need to be ashamed."

He cooed, and kiss your left temple— wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and nuzzling himself into the nape of your neck. Despite being ashamed of your own body, Zhongli or Morax here— wants you to reveal your body to him. It's not like he gives a fuck whether you have scars, stretch marks, or anything.

"There's no need to be afraid, dear. You're beautiful no matter what.."

Zhongli soon undo the ties of your outfit— carefully and gently taking it off of you. He was taking care of you like you were fragile glass. He murmured sweet nothings into your ear, telling you of how lucky and how beautiful you are.

And once you were naked and bare in front of him— and he couldn't help but feel his erection and lust growing. You were just ravishing. His hands immediately caresses your waist, feeling the soft skin under his rough hands.

"You're so beautiful..So soft.."

He spoke like he was in awe of you, and apparently he was. He was treating you with such gentleness, it was surprising that he didn't go feral at the sight of you bare and just fuck you right there and now.

But simple actions like him caressing your hips, your hair, your face, or even fondling with your chest turns into something even more intimate and heated.

Now you found yourself in all fours, getting pounded from behind by the one you call your husband.

"Ohh fuck~ You're so tight and warm..You want me to fill you up with my needs, don't you?~"

You were sobbing onto the pillow, gripping onto it tightly and holding on for dear life while he hammered his cock into your sopping hole that was enveloping him.

"You're so good to me... You'll look so good with a swollen belly..~"

Hot and sticky ropes of cum shoots inside of you— but he didn't stop, instead— he continues to pump his cock into you despite how overstimulated you were. Morax wanted you to be knocked up, filled with his seeds. He wanted you to bear his children and doesn't give a fuck whether you're a man— he'll make sure you're bearing his children.

Morax or rather yet Zhongli, doesn't seem to stop. He continues to fuck you senselessly— watching how your ass jiggles with every thrust he makes. Damn right he was gonna make sure you're pregnant after this.

His grip on your hips was starting to sting, but that only sends pleasure rushing to you— making you cum all over his cock once again. He was looking at you with such desire, almost like he wanted to eat you all up...

"Don't cry, dear~ You're taking me so so well.. Your cries and moans are so so adorable..~"

Don't expect him to stop after this round. He'll make sure to mark you as his, to show that you're his one and only, to make sure you're all filled with his seeds until stopping. Either way, just appreciate that your dear husband will take care of you afterwards <33

#genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #smut brainrot #genshin impact scenarios #genshin smut #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli x you #morax x reader #morax x y/n #rex lapis

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year

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Sagau but the reader gets reallyangry evry time when someone insults sucrose,venti,nahida and fischil...... so the former sages of academia are now seeing the reader riding on azdaha screaming how they will wrath of the rock, or anyone who badmouths sucrose and fischil feels like reader screaming that they will sufere while zhongli and ei holds them back, but when someone try to insult reader.......reader just gets bored and gose to sleep and acolaytes have wtf face

When Someone Insults Sucrose, Venti, & Nahida... Vs When Someone Insults Reader

Anon, you know for a fact things are about to go down when Reader hears the insults directed at these characters. For all we know—if reader wasn't be held back they probably would actually murder some people.

OH, and this one's going to be VERY LONG, so be prepared! This was also the reason why I had to get rid of Fischl—that and it was also because my motivation decided to die on me—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC, (perhaps) Mentions of Violence, & Quest Spoilers!)

Sucrose

The moment she gets insulted for how shy and unusual her experiments were, you can literally tell her confidence breaking. You can see it in the way her ears began to droop more and how she starts fumbling with her stuff.

And, you treasure Sucrose A LOT. What are you going to do, sit there on the side lines? NOT do anything?

"Hey, you lot!" You march up to the insulters out of your hiding place. "What do you think you're doing, insulting one of my acolytes?"

This gets the gossipers to shut up immediately. They are shivering as they hear your voice, flaring with anger and hatred to the bone.

"Y-Your Grace! We were just...uhm—just...commenting! Yes, just commenting on, uh—"

"Shut up. This. INSTANT!" Your voice rings out through the street of Mondstadt. Sucrose's eyes were wide as she sees you, the Almighty Creator, stand up for her. "DO THIS AGAIN, AND I WILL SLIT YOUR THROAT OUT, YOU HEAR ME?"

Yeah, the gossipers are getting absolute PSTD from this. They are never recovering from this incident. Sucrose, upon hearing the threat, quickly runs up to you, to hold you back from actually hurting them.

Yes, you were raising your fists. Who wouldn't want to punch them? They were acting ignorant!

"P-please, Your Grace! Let's not get violent!" Sucrose tries to persuade you from not doing anything murderous—she doesn't want to have to report to the Knights of Favonius that the Creator themself has committed first-degree murder on the streets right before her eyes.

You sigh, relenting. You won't do it if Sucrose won't like it, but if anyone asked you, they absolutely deserved losing their vocal cords.

"Fine." You turn back to the gossipers, who were cowering on the table they were at. "You both, get out of here. If this happens again, I will do what I threatened to do. Or worse."

That's what gets the moving. After several panicked confirmations ("Yes, Your Grace!" "Understood, Your Grace!" "This won't happen again, Your Grace!"), they leave.

But if you were the one that got insulted? Sucrose would be so horrified of the audacity of these people! How could they say such things about the Creator?

She would be even more horrified to realize that you were there, hearing it all. So, instead of telling off the gossipers, she runs up to you to make sure you were okay. Your feelings matter more than those idiots!

"Your Grace, are you okay? I'm so sorry for what they're saying! Please know that they're not true!" She would say gently, and Sucrose would be ultimately surprised to see you actually pretty chill about the entire incident.

"Hm? Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?—Oh, are you talking about those people over there?" You point at the gossipers, still insulting and calling you names. "Yeah, they're actually pretty amusing."

Shookth. That's what Sucrose's expression is. Absolute shock. You would expect someone like the Almighty Creator to be enraged or upset by this kind of behavior from your own people, but no, you're just sitting there, at a table near the Good Hunter, listening to some dudes piling up random trash on the table like it's some Live Soap Opera.

"U-uhm, pardon me, Your Grace...but are you not affected by what they're saying?" Sucrose can't help but be puzzled at your reaction. It's not exactly...what people would expect, you know?

"Nope, none. Anyways, I'm feeling up for a mushroom pizza—wanna come join me? It'll be on me~"

Sucrose blushes, her mind going frantic. Pizza, with the CREATOR THEMSELF?! But, if the creator wants her to join, she can't refuse!

"O-of course, Your Grace!"

"Alright then. SARA! YOU MIND IF YOU MAKE US A MUSHROOM PIZZA, PLEASE?" The moment you shout from your table, the gossipers turned pale. They look over at you and Sucrose.

That was the next gossip going on throughout the streets for the next few weeks. And you found that entire episode even more amusing.

Venti

This guy is honestly pretty used to insults, so hearing one of his own people call him names and insulting his skills as a bard, he just ignores them and goes on with his day.

However, today was different. He was inside the tavern when you stormed to the table where the insults were being piled up on.

"Ahem." Just by the sound of your voice, you can see the dudes trembling. You were that much of a scary character when you wanted to be. "What is the meaning of this?"

"A-ah! Your Grace, we were just placing opinions on a certain bard's skill in their music—"

"And how does insulting the bard himself have to do anything with their music taste?" you ask, voice ringing with anger. The bad mouthers were turning pale just by the tone you were using. If emotions could kill, your glare would have them drop dead in a heartbeat. Venti found that a little amusing, honestly.

"U-uhm, Your Grace, we can explain!" one of them quickly exclaims, trying to save their own skins. You glare down at them, not even budging in expression or movement.

"Perhaps I should call StormTerror and have your discarded bodies thrown into the ocean." Ayo, hold up! Venti nearly sweats his pants off. The Creator calling in his dear friend, Dvalin, just to kill like, 3 people that were badmouthing him?

As much as he wanted to see his buddy again, he does not like the situation as to why he was even here in Mondstadt again. And besides, these three were still children of Mondstadt! It's better if he steps in and saves them all.

"Yahoo! Your Grace!~ Come join me with for a lovely glass of wine!" He uses his cheekiness to get your attention, knowing the favoritism he'll get over the trio in their little corner.

You sigh. You were so close of letting loose your rage on these idiots, but alas, having fun with Venti outweighed dealing with smack talkers.

So, despite your urge to continue to scream bloody murder from the skies above, you joined Venti at his usual spot in front of the bartender. Venti can only smile as he manages to defuse the situation without making a bigger scene.

"So, Your Grace~ Care to hear this bard's next ballad dedicated to the Almighty Creator themself?" Purely distracts you before you can think more about the frustrating topic.

But when Venti hears someone smack talking about the Creator? Oh, it's really about to go down. Someone was really asking for a death wish. He can suddenly sympathize how much anger you could've felt when you heard other talking crap about him.

Until he sees you, chilling in the corner, listening in on the crap and looking like you would fall asleep at any given time. Venti was puzzled—has the Creator heard insults such as these before? He had to know.

So, disregarding the stupid and semi-drunk idiots, he runs up to you. The moment you see him, you were suddenly very much awake.

"Your Grace! I apologize for what those morons are saying—please, allow this humble bard to deal with them—" You wave him off, telling him to not bother. You tell him that it was actually pretty amusing, and sometimes really good background noise to help you sleep.

Now this dude is even more confused. How could insults be good background noise? How could the Creator themself be using that as a source to doze off to dreamland? It didn't make sense, but he suppose it'll be better for himself if he just left the question alone, never to be answered.

"Well, anyways, I'm up for a walk—you wanna come with?" Venti grins at the request. Spending time with the Creator? Of course he would join! He can brag about it all to the old block head in Liyue and the grumpy royal in Inazuma.

"Ehe, lead the way, Your Grace!" He says it loud enough to have the gossipers freeze and look over. They watch as you both leave the tavern to go on a walk.

Mission accomplished! Venti can live with that kind of revenge on the plate. It served them right to be scared.

Nahida

Okay, to make it more convenient for myself, let's have this take place before the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was erased from Irmunsil. The traveler has managed to save Nahida from the sanctuary of Surasthana, and now we're basically at the part where Cyno meets Azar face to face.

You, quite literally, begged Cyno to let you join him—you were sick and tired of that old man that proclaimed himself to be he Grand Sage anyways.

Even without all the begging, Cyno would've let you follow him anyways. If Azar didn't think that the Dendro Archon could ever lay judgement on him, then let the Almighty Creator reign justice on him themself.

The moment you step into the sanctuary, however, you felt your blood boil. You remember playing through this darn quest and listened to all the crap this son of a dirt bag threw at the wholesome bean that is the Dendro Archon.

You knew what would happen, since you played through the entire quest. For some reason, Teyvat hasn't gone through this change, but you knew. In the end, Nahida was too merciful to the sages. And, let's be honest, who wouldn't want to throw a darn punch at this guy?

You let Cyno do most of the talking with Azar, enjoying how he was looking uneasy as you silently glared at him from the shadows. You can tell Nahida saw you, her eyes wide with awe and shock.

The moment Cyno slams down his polearm, you took it as your cue to come out of your hiding spot.

"And if you think you're leaving this place unharmed, you better think twice! I will claw off that smug face of yours if you think you would get away insulting that precious child!" You point at Nahida to make your statement very clear of who said-child was, in case Azar was stupid enough to think it was someone else.

The moment the (ex)Grand Sage saw you, you can see the literal fear dawning his very figure and eyes. Cyno had to hold you back with an arm on your shoulder because you were looking wayy too murderous than he thought you would be.

"Your Grace, please calm down!" As much as she hates what the sages and the Fatui did to the people of Sumeru, she didn't exactly want Azar dead.

Nahida is smart enough to speculate that if she interfered, maybe Cyno would be able to do his job for both she and the Almighty Creator before things escalate too quickly by Their Grace's divine hand.

As much as she loves you standing up to her, she really doesn't want things to get too bloody than it needs to be.

You glare at Azar one more time. Fine, if you can't have this son of a crap dead as a corpse, you would take some satisfaction in driving fear into him.

"You do this again, little old man, and I'll make sure you actually lose all that self-pride you have and oh-so cherish. Got it?" Even with confirmation, you wouldn't let this guy off the hook. You were that enraged with him.

But at least Nahida was out of her cage, so that's all that mattered.

"Don't worry, Your Grace! I won't let others do this again to me, I promise!" She reassures you that she will not have anyone trample all over her again, and you just couldn't help yourself but smile gently down at her. You know very well she wouldn't.

Alright, post-sumeru archon quest, Nahida is pretty much free to roam wherever she wants. She's pretty happy, until she hears a group of people huddling together talking bad about the Almighty Creator...

At first, she was surprised. Then she got upset and a little angry. Why would her people speak so ill of the Creator?

She literally nearly breaks when she sees you chilling at a different table at Puspa Cafe. She ran up to you, surprisingly, undetected by almost everyone she ran past.

You notice Nahida approaching, and welcome her with a warm smile and a wave, but dies away when she sees the sadness on her face.

"Your Grace! Please forgive my people for talking such false things about you!" She would exclaim, her eyes close to watering tears. While she doesn't like what she hears about you, she doesn't want her people hurt for such things they say.

"Oh—that's what you were concerned about?" you said, dumbly. You look over at the table that were still gossiping about you. "Nah, don't worry, Nahida—they're actually pretty funny."

That immediately gets Nahida spiraling down in confusion. Huh? How could such hurtful things be funny? Was the Almighty Creator very used to this kind of thing, or was it simply because they truly did find it amusing somehow?

"I'm sorry, Your Grace...but I don't really get what you mean." You shrug it off, telling her that's just how you roll. Besides, this was like a free, live time drama show! They were that amusing.

"Say, since we're sitting here in Puspa Cafe, how 'bout I treat you to some Padisarah Pudding and Candied Ajilenakh Nuts? It's all on me!" Yeah, you're pretty okay with spoiling Nahida with treats. Besides, cute bean was sad—you wanted to cheer her up!

When she agrees, you shout, "BOSS! MIND IF YOU GET ME TWO PADISARAH PUDDINGS AND A PLATE OF AJILENAKH NUTS?" And, much like what happened with Sucrose and the pizza, the gossipers freeze, turn pale, and look over.

They become even paler when they see the Dendro Archon herself sitting with the Almighty Creator, casually talking about random things.

"Your Grace, did you really fall from the sky as a shooting star to our world?" You and Nahida would continue talking about your origins and how you brought Teyvat to life from the storybook version, not knowing that the bad mouthers were having a existential crisis at their table.

AND THAT'S IT! I'M SORRY FISCHL, BUT I AM VERY TIRED—

I hope you guys enjoyed it though! See you around! :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: This was WAYY longer than I thought it would be, holy cow- but at least it turned out okay? :') Boy, I am so tired lol- this took far too much energy than I thought it would. My motivation legit started plummeting when I got to Nahida—You can legit tell I had to reuse the cafe/restaurant scene from Sucrose into hers because my brain just died on me- But I do hope you guys still liked it! Especially you, Anon! I hope it was up to your standards :)

Check Out The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#sagau venti #sagau nahida #sagau genshin #sagau #sagau x reader #yandere sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #genshin self aware #self aware genshin #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #platonic genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #sagau sucrose #WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAGAU SUCROSE ISN'T A TAG????#sagau cyno

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akiimiiyo · 8 months

Text

-> KISSES

⌗synopsis : how genshin men kiss.

⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.

his kisses are full of love, but mostly happen behind closed door. he’s often busy and caught up in his own duties, left craving for your affection all day long before he can come back home to you where he’ll finally get to hold you in his arms and shower you with the love that has been building up over the hours. still, when you’re out together, he refrains from doing anything more than walking hand in hand or letting you link your arm around his. perhaps a quick peck on the cheek here and there, but that’s how far he’ll go when you’re in public. he thinks that everything other than that is too intimate to be done in front of others. not to worry though, in private, he’ll be sure to show you how much he cherishes you.

diluc, ayato, alhaitham, neuvillette, pantalone, pierro.

his kisses are playful and teasing. he has always loved kissing you, no matter if it is a fleeting kiss or a passionate one, he firmly believes your soft lips were made for his. although your kisses are definitely considered a blissful experience for him, what he really adores is your expression after you pull apart. he simply can’t get enough of the small glint in your eyes and the faint hue on your cheeks. he takes it upon himself to kiss you when you least expect it to enhance such reaction. at work? he’ll swiftly turn you around and plant his lips on yours. out with friends? he can’t go on without getting a small peck from his darling. minding your own business? he’ll interrupt your train of thoughts by quickly placing his lips against yours. he’ll leave you wanting for more as he walks away with that usual mischievous smile of his, acting as nothing ever happened.

kaeya, childe, heizou, cyno, kaveh, lyney.

his kisses are sweet and calm. he’s simply a peaceful soul whose current wish is to make you feel as if you were the most important being in the entire world and it’s working. the delicate and gentle way he touches you has your cheeks flaring up, the way he looks at you with such fondness has your heart racing while his kisses make you feel as if you’re floating above the clouds. he’s truly a gentleman at heart, kissing the back of your hand every time you go out or your forehead to reassure you wherever you need him to. it also doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he’ll always look up at you before asking for permission to kiss you, only looking out for your own comfort. he would never miss his chance of kissing you as it’s the fastest way to calm him down no matter what.

albedo, zhongli, baizhu, thoma, kazuha, tighnari.

his kisses are hesitant and rare. this poor man is too unfamiliar with affection, especially physical, to be open about his feelings. he loves you dearly, maybe way more than he had first thought when he had started to fall for you, but it’s simply too complicated for him to show you all that and he hates himself for it. he wishes he could be more forward with making his feelings for you clear, however, he is scared that everything will come crumbling down as soon as he gets too used to your warmth. nonetheless, he is genuinely convinced that you deserve everything and more, so he musters up the courage to actually reciprocate your display of affection, and he tries to pour all of his deeply felt emotions into it too. give the scarred man some time, he’ll eventually cave in to your touch.

xiao, wanderer, dainsleif, dottore, capitano.

⌗a/n : can you tell this is my first time writing smth like this?? LMAOO pls tell me if this is cringe pls pls pls 😞 also, im sorry if this makes no sense, i wrote this at 1am 🙏🏻 do tell if i made any spelling mistakes tho!!

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ��I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

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xuzuitengenx · 8 months

Text

Sub!Zhongli x Top!Male Reader NSFW! Oneshot

Title—"Let Me Take Care of You"

Genre—Smut/Lemon

AU—Can be viewed as both None or Modern

Warning(s): EXPLICIT WORDS, OOC Moments, Zhongli failing as a power bottom, Light Feminization(Zhongli being called a pillow princess), Dacryphilia, Riding, Implied Oversimulation?

A/N: This is not proofread—I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes and I given up at the end so I hope it's good (I'm going to fix it later!)

Zhongli's thighs were burning and trembling as he grew desperate and frustrated while he tried to ride M/N who was smugly smirking at the very, very sad attempts of Zhongli trying to top and failing which caused him to let out a sob or a frustrated whine here and there, his orgasm ruined once again.

M/N was enjoying every second of this—seeing Zhongli breaking without M/N actually doing anything.

Zhongli's hands laid on the chest of M/N as he tried to bounce his aching hips once again as his cock and himself begging for a release.

Zhongli can feel M/N's eyes looking at him and watching him trying to fulfill his attempt of topping M/N but he didn't dare to make eye contact, knowingly that he would give in right then and there.

"C'mon love, let me help you." M/N spoke to Zhongli whose hips started to increase in pace as breathy moans and pants left his wet lips.

At this point, pleads left Zhongli as his hips started to burn—trembling due to how long he was doing this.

"No..No, no..please..!" Zhongli mutters as his hips came to a stop due to exhaustion, his orgasm disappearing again, making Zhongli let out an exasperate sob.

"Darling." Zhongli heard his lover call out. He didn't want to give up but he was tired and wants to cum so bad. He was beyond desperate, he wanted M/N to fuck him and give him the ecstasy he was chasing for.

Zhongli finally looked at M/N for the first time that night, his glistening yellow eyes that held tears as his cheeks were pink. Not an everyday sight from the Geo-Archon.

"Let me take care of you, my love, hmm?" M/N added a questioning hum, awaiting for Zhongli's answer which didn't take long at all.

"Please.." Zhongli whispers before he felt M/N's hands on his waist, touching him for the first time too as Zhongli told M/N not to touch him without permission—he knew that he would completely fold if M/N touches him—Zhongli lets out a short gasp as he felt himself being flipped over onto the pillows that M/N was previously on.

Zhongli watches M/N as he held a smirk, rubbing Zhongli's pale thighs while his eyes fixated on Zhongli's flustered face.

"Once a pillow princess, always a pillow princess, huh?" M/N snickered, pulling his cock out of Zhongli's hole before thrusting it right back it roughly which caused Zhongli to let out a shocked moan as the pleasure overcame him.

When the pleasure hit Zhongli, ropes of cum spurted out and landed on his abdomen. Zhongli felt both embarrassed and relieved, his body trembled while his back arched against the sheets.

M/N was mesmerized at the sight in front of him and it just made him more turned on, but he didn't want to push Zhongli until that thought was washed away when Zhongli's hands held M/N's face and pulled him down to kiss him.

M/N instantly returned the kiss before Zhongli broke it as he whispered something against M/N's lips which ignited something in him.

"Fuck me, M/N. I beg..Please.."

Without a moment of hesitation, M/N kissed Zhongli once more, Zhongli melts into the kiss as a small whine was heard from Zhongli's throat. Zhongli's hands fell onto M/N's shoulders, preparing himself as he felt M/N's cock slide out of his hole once again before M/N thrusted inside of Zhongli.

"Mphm!!" A muffled moan came from Zhongli as pleasure started to take over the couple—overwhelming but good on Zhongli's part.

M/N broke the kiss for he can hear Zhongli's majestical moans better as he fucked him.

A/N: Again sorry for any mistakes I made!

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 10 months

Text

Dragonfly

zhongli/f.reader

genre: morax/zhongi, immortal!cursed!reader, miko/shrinemaiden!reader, angst, hurt/comfort(?), slow burn, reunion, traveler is NOT y/n, implied xiao/traveler,

warning(s)!!: mentions of: death/repetitive deaths, war, past suicides, the suffering of immortality in a mortal body, for the sake of this fic dragonflies are semi-common in teyvat/liyue lol, xiao considers zhongli/reader parental figures, things will definitely not follow canon timelines, Xiao is a frequent/important character, characters may be ooc (im sorry)

w.count: 15.6k (i am so sorry)

SYNOPSIS: fate and time are cruel kings ruling over even gods. morax is no exception. the only human he ever fell in love with was twisted by fate to battle him in a brewing war. the image of the burning temple that she resided in rested behind his eyelids and not a day goes by that he does not still mourn and yearn. time had cruelly taken you away from him. or... had it?

“Hello Traveler!” The soft yet chipper voice of the ever-pranking funeral director calls out from behind the blond Outworlder. The day in Liyue was still young and bright as the umber-clad young lady walks up to both them and Paimon who had floated herself bouncily from the Traveler’s right shoulder to the left.

“Oh,” Paimon begrudgingly acknowledges, form bobbing in the air comfortably. “It's Hu Tao.”

“Paimon,” Traveler scolds, crossing their arms over their chest. Paimon just sighs as the blond looks to the funeral director who had come close enough for conversion and unfolds their arms, bringing them down to their sides relaxingly. “Good to see you, Hu Tao,” they greet with a small nod.

“Indeed,” Hu Tao nods back, closing her eyes briefly in glee before reopening them. “It is lovely to see you. Are you here to visit Liyue? Or, perhaps another pressing matter brought you back to this nation once again.”

“It’s nothing drastic,” Traveler dismisses. “We just.... had some time on our hands. So, we’re just visiting.” Partially, that was the truth. However, the full truth was that there was most definitely something the pair could be doing instead of wandering around Liyue. But it was important to take time for yourself sometimes, right?

“Well, feel free to stop by the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor if you’re interested! I’d be happy to host the both of you for a meal.”

“You mean, Zhongli would host us?” Paimon quips up knowing that, as Hu Tao’s consultant, Zhongli’s job descriptions can vary in terms of tasks. However, when Paimon spoke Hu Tao lifted her arms up towards herself. One wrapped around her chest and rested the elbow of her other, resting her curled fingers against her chin in thought.

“Perhaps, not this time. Zhongli has had something on his mind these days.” The woman brought her curled hand and arms back down, now gesturing them softly in front of her as she spoke more. “It would feel distasteful to ask him to host guests at the moment.”

The mention of Zhongli being mentally occupied made the Traveler and Paimon look at each other. They were privy to a lot of information the consultant kept tucked away from public knowledge- for good reason. The staged death of Morax for one. Although Hu Tao had once speculated that Zhongli could possibly be an Adeptus, she surely didn’t know that she wasn’t exactly far off from a bullseye.

Still, the fact that Zhongli, the former Lord of Geo, was distracted so much that Hu Tao had essentially dismissed him of some of his duties was a concerning thought. He never seemed the type to dwell so much on something that it obstructed his work.

“I’ve tried asking him about it before,” Hu Tao continues, “since he gets like this around the same time every year. All he’s ever spoken to me about it is that someone he knew from his past had died around this time. It felt… wrong to pry into his past more for some reason.” It wasn’t an odd statement coming from her. She often took her work very seriously, even if she herself was a spitfire of a young lady.

“Someone from his past died?” Paimon asked, already knowing about his past with the Adepti and The Seven. Perhaps, it had something to do with them? Either way, the concern was planted in the Traveler’s chest, so it felt only natural to find the ex-Archon and try and get some answers out of him. Maybe, since the pair had already known about his identity it would be easier to talk about. Or, that was the hope at least.

Hu Tao and the Traveler spoke briefly for a moment longer with the usual snarky comment from Paimon before going their separate ways. Hu Tao had apparently been on her way out to fulfil a clients few specific requests and her stop for a chat was pushing to make her behind on her work. Paimon didn’t mind if she went on her way sooner rather than later, the dealing with the dead had always been creepy to the floating companion.

Regardless, Hu Tao was a nice lady. Traveler would make sure to stop by and see her more, maybe indulge her hobby of poetry a bit.

The two had walked around the busy streets of Liyue for a while trying to find Zhongli. He wasn’t at the funeral parlor, much to their dismay at making it an easy search, so they just starting wandering hoping to catch him somewhere along the way. Soon enough, they had wandered just far enough to catch a glimpse of his long brown tailcoat at Liyue Harbor.

In retrospect, they should have started their search here if the funeral parlor was a bust.

Zhonglig stood with his hands tucked neatly into each other behind his back, shoulders slack as he looked out over the landscape. He was basking in the solitude at the top arch of the harbor’s bridge when he hear the approaching sounds of footsteps. Turning his chin, he unclasped his hands and let his arms fall from his back before turning to greet the approaching Traveler.

“Ah,” his deep voice reverberates and only the closest to him can detect the faux sound of a choked strain in it. “Greetings, Traveler.”

“Hello, Zhongli!” Paimon greets floating just a fraction ahead of Traveler. “What were you doing?” She already begins to pry with a suspiciously high-strained voice. It just makes Traveler silently sigh and shake their head. She really needed to work on being more conspicuous.

It’s quiet for a moment before Zhongli already catches on. Perhaps he can be a bit dense about certain aspects of the mortal realm, but he was by no means a fool. A smile finds its way on his lips in a moment of mild amusement at Paimon’s grace, or rather lack thereof.

“I was merely lost in thought. Reminiscing about the past, you could say.”

“The past?” She pressed again.

“Paimon,” the Traveler hisses for the second time that day. The floating girl just opened her jaw in mock offense before floating closer to them.

“What? What did Paimon say now!”

Zhongli’s low chuckle was a soft tune that at least showed he wasn’t offended by the blatant attempt at coaxing his thoughts out of his lips.

“Did the Director send you to find me perhaps?” The fact that he was trying to slowly steer the conversation away wasn’t lost to the Traveler. Paimon and them both looked back to Zhongli shaking their heads.

“Not exactly,” Traveler starts.

“We did run into her though,” Paimon tacks on. “She told us you had been down in the dumps, so we came to check on you!” Paimon’s small hands came to her hips and her chest puffed out as if proud of her actions of checking in with a friend.

Zhongli chuckles once again at the way Traveler places their hands on their hips as well,. Though, they were instead sending a playful scowl at the back of Paimon’s head.

“It is quite refreshing to see the two of you bicker,” he chides. “It certainly helps in easing the mind.” Once more, the two’s attention was drawn back to the former god.

“So,” Traveler starts before Paimon could interject with something else, “there is something on your mind?” There was a growing fit of silence between the group of three, no one speaking in fear of shattering something they couldn’t exactly describe. Zhongli seemingly caved with a minuscule sigh kept more to himself than the harbor’s breeze.

“The assumption that I’ve been a bit… preoccupied is correct. Lately, it seems I cannot focus on certain tasks for too long. My mind has a bit of a tendency to wander around this time of year.” Zhongli can already see the look of curiously mixed with concern written into the eyes of both Paimon and Traveler. His own eyes flick around the bridge and beyond the harbor’s main port before returning back to his visitors. “If you’re very interested to know, then I would not mind trying to explain it all over some tea. Though, it would be best if we took the topic of conversation elsewhere.”

The sudden shift in his demeanor was almost palpable. It was like a cloak of grey mist started to waft around his very being at the mention of speaking his mind. Now that the two outsiders got the confirmation that whatever it was that was plaguing him was of the past he doesn’t let others know of, they were ready for a lengthy story.

Zhongli had graciously invited the Traveler and Paimon to his personal abode, a place they had never even set eyes on. Of course, they knew he had to have had a place to stay and sleep, but for some reason it felt like all he ever did was walk around Liyue, do his work at the funeral parlor, or listen to stories at the Third-Round Knockout. It shouldn’t have been a shock to know he had his own home, but all the same, it was.

It was simplistic inside, with the shelves being the only things of high value because of all the collected items he had bought and stored on them. Gesturing them both to a set of chairs between a table, he began brewing tea to serve as promised.

Traveler sat awkwardly at first. Shuffling around in their chair while Paimon floated around the open space of the house being nosier than she should’ve been truthfully. Still, Zhongli didn’t say anything about her snooping so she continued to do so until the homeowner returned with a tray in his hands.

A decorative teapot sat in the middle of the dark, wooden tray atop a plain towel; the steam of the hot, freshly brewed tea wisped out gracefully from its spout. Beside it were three small teacups placed upside down that clattered with the smallest sounds of finely made clay as he set the tray in the center of the table. Along with them was a small dish of cubes of sugar and a small creamer that held milk inside it.

Zhongli skillfully took the teacups and flipped them over, setting them all upright and easily pouring the exact same amount of tea into each. The brew was dark and the steam wafted around the tabletop before dissipating into the air only to be replaced immediately with more. He slid two cups toward Traveler and the other to Paimon once she stopped her floating around and settled once again as the third member of the current party. He offered the milk and sugar to the two of them as well.

“I prefer my tea black, but please help yourselves.” Zhongli settled into his own seat easily. One arm resting on the arm of his perch and the other on the table top to curl his fingers around the cup he had prepared for himself. His legs crossed out of habit and it was then that the Traveler realized he had taken off his tailcoat. It was purely out of habit to take it off when he had arrived to the privacy of his own home, and he didn’t even realize it himself- not that it mattered. It was simply a different look than they were used to.

Paimon began dropping sugar cubes into her cup a bit too clumsily as small droplets splashed on her hand from the objects breaching the liquid causing her to yelp. In turn, the two seated companions offered her chuckles of amusement as she blew on her hand. Of course, it was hardly an injury- it was more a fright than a burn.

“It’s hot,” Zhongli chided.

“Gee, you think!” She then started dropping in cube after cube much more delicately. Or, rather she would drop them from the same height as before but immediately fly away when she let go so the upcoming splash wouldn’t touch her again. The Traveler made their own additions to their tea as well, but much less messily.

The three settle into a comfortable silence filled with small sips of tea and clicks of returning cup to wooden table top. That is, until Zhongli broke it by placing a small wooden box on the table in front of him to join in with the teatray and it’s accessories.

It was an elegant box the size of his fist. Golden edges wrapped in angular designs and a locked latch in the front of it. On the top of the lid was the symbol of a Geo Vision. At first, the two travelers thought that maybe this box is what he stored his fake Vision in when it wasn’t on his person. Pulling a small key from under his long-collared shirt, he unlocked the box and opened the lid. From where the Traveler sat with the lid facing them, they still couldn’t get a peek inside.

The last thing they expected Zhongli to pull out of the cushioned, plush lined box was a hair ornament.

Modeled in the shape of a dragonfly, the piece was carefully handled by the ex-archon and placed so very delicately on the table. The wings of the dragon fly were filled with a crystal that shone green and teal, the colors shifting with the light and angle as which it was gazed upon. The piece itself was designed as a hairstick, acting as an elegant means to pen up locks of hair- the metal rod of the stick seemed well suited for such a job. Matching teal-green crystal beads hung from the bottom tips of each wing as decorative tails.

It was a beautiful piece to gaze at.

Zhongli kept his hand on the table right next to it, his fingertips just a breath away from touching it again. When Paimon got a bit too close while gazing at it, Traveler could see the slightest twitch run through his fingers. As if the ex-Archon was anxious about Paimon getting too close to it. Still, to not be rude he said nothing as she continued to narrowing gawk.

“Paimon, back up a little,” Traveler said, sitting forward a bit to try and act like they were trying to get a better look while simultaneously trying to get Paimon to back off a bit. When Paimon floated back to her place by her teacup, Zhongli’s shoulders loosened like he was relieved at the distance between the reckless floating fairy and this clearly important item.

“You were curious on what has been on my mind, yes? This is a one reason I’ve been rather… absent as of late.”

“You’ve been spacing out over a hairstick?” Paimon asked astonishingly. Zhongli shook his head.

“Not quite.” His fingers uncurled and genly brushed over one of the beaded tails, letting the crystals bump over his fingertips. His eyes softened, yet that cloak of grey melancholy came back to him. “It’s more about who this was going to belong to.”

Traveler and Paimon both had questions, but remained silent. They both settled into their respective places ready to listen to the story he was surely about to unweave. They knew that the tea would grow cold and kettle drank empty by the time it was all finished. Though, the look in his eyes and the way his voice grew softer in a way that pulled at the heart made the eternity of sitting in one place much easier to bare.

“This ornament was going to be a gift to someone I knew a very long time ago. I never had the chance to give it too her, however; so, I keep it here with me where it is safe. I cannot bare to throw it out, even after all this time.”

It seemed crazy, how the two swore his eyes had grown misty just saying those few sentences. How this story is going to start all because of a crystal dragonfly from millenia past.

There were many places that had been tainted and driven to ruin due to the war raging by the Archons. Gods were battling each other for power, others trying to flee from another’s unjustly wrath. Some even tried defending their people instead of taking place in battles or retreating. It was chaos and there were few corners of the old world of Teyvat that wasn’t splattered in a thick muck of bloodshed.

Still, that didn’t mean everywhere had been tainted. No. This fact rang true as Morax had discovered one fateful day a small territory cleansed of blood and impurity.

Hidden behind a barrier he had stumbled upon in the middle of a half dead forest, the invisible viel hid everything beyond it from sight. In fact, if he hadn’t happened to be near it, the Archon probably wouldn't have noticed it in the first place. The barrier itself easily gave and allowed him passage inside which led him to believe it was more of a mask than a shield.

Walking through it led him to a forest of lush floral and trees that thrived surrounding a small section of land that housed no more than 500 people perhaps. A small village with huts scattered around plots of farmland and a rather luxurious palace atop it all. It was a farcry from the near-deathly state of the outside world and the whiplash of it made him momentarily wonder if he was somehow succumbing to some sort of hallucination.

Morax walked through the dirt paths all the way until the thick wall that cut off the eastern styled palace from the rest of the people. Walls tall and made of a stone the God of Geo had to have created at somepoint. The craftsmanshift of it was marvelous he had to admit as there was not the slightest crack between the stacked stone. Easily vaulting himself onto the tall wall, he gazes beyond it’s perimeter.

Inside of the sturdy walls, he could see six different buildings. Along the two side walls of stone stood two houses each. Two west and two east, separate yet built so similar he could easily mistake the four as clones of each other if not for his experienced eyes that had seen such fine details over his life. Connecting these four abodes from west to east were grey, stone paths. The same cobblestone led beyond the front gate he had forwent as he perched atop the wall and led straight forward to a single building that was larger than the rest. Morax assumed that was the main estate just from the grandeur of it compared to the lacking other four.

Though, the final building is harder for the curious immortal to see. It was built directly behind the main estate, no doubt also connected with the same clean stone paths that weaved through the courtyards. All Morax could see of this building was it’s roof, the same tiled and burned color as the high status homes around it.

Morax straightened his body from it’s crouched position and began to gracefully walk along the stone wall. Getting new angles of the buildings inside, he soon grew close enough to the main estate that he easily lept to it’s roof. Landing as if the air lessened his weight, he could now view that one single building he hadn’t yet more clearly.

Immediately, the Archon recognized it as a temple that without a doubt housed priests and priestess alike. Some may be masters at their craft and others may be but small, inexperienced fledgings beyond those sacred walls.

The idea of a temple like that in an uncharted and untainted territory flared his curiosity. So much so, he was hardly in control of his instincts as he once more lept gracefully from the estate’s rooftop onto the stone paths. His barefeet made a sound of collision when his heels touched the man-made path, and continued to make the same shuffling sounds as he walked straight into the temple.

Morax did not run into a single person in the temple, though he could hear matras and practices from around different open training fields. Even the soft plunks of arrows being driven into targets for archery precision and the chiming of bells for cleansing. The open halls of the temple and the roof over his head that kept the sun’s heated glare from his figure felt comforting.

Being in a place so filled with peace and sounds of anything but war was outlandish to the otherwise warrior-type god. Morax had contracts to fulfill and his own principals to protect while fending off other gods trying to level his unnamed throne. Taking out a few of his own violation never did any harm to strengthen his gag between himself and others.

The god had walked so freely that he soon found himself under the sun again. Instead of in the open halls of marble floors and burgundy columns, Morax was standing amidst a field of wild grass, flowers, trees, and bushes. It was like the lush forest outside the stone perimeter allowed a single bit of it’s ecosystem inside the temple just for the mortals to bask in.

A small humming of wings quickly caught Morax’s attention amidst the sounds of the wind’s breeze and dancing leaves. His chin led his head in the direction before coming to see a small dragonfly hovering around him before landing on his shoulder. The view of the insect was neary cut off by the hood he always wore over his head, but the bug itself was peaceful just resting it’s wings on the god’s shoulder for respite.

For a moment, the warrior of countless battles felt relief. For just that moment, the weight of such responsibility with his temperament lifted all because a small insect decided to rest on him.

The dragonfly’s respite did not last. The little critter’s wings began to hum again and soon began to hover off and before Morax could stop his feet, he found himself following it. Bare feet stepping over well worn paths of flattened grass and dirt patches. Not long from where had previously stood, he stopped at seeing where the small insect had flown to in lieu of himself.

The eyes of the archon landed on the first person Morax had seen since entering this temple- although uninvited, presence unknown and undetected. Reaching out a delicate hand with her index finger extended, the dragonfly landed easily on the appendage.

A priestess knelt elegantly in the tall grass, previously inspecting herbs when she heard the familiar buzz of wings. The hakama pants that folded at her legs were neatly pleaded without a crease out of place and her kosode tucked perfectly into the trousers- not a wrinkle to critque. Her hair had been loosing tied back with a red hair ribbon that fluttered in the breeze that kept the tall grass swaying like waves of spring.

The wind picked up when the dragonfly lifted off her fingers and off back towards Morax. It was like the little creature had led him straight to her and was now directing her vision back so they could meet each other’s gaze.

It was all thanks to that one, small bug that Morax and first made eye contact with you.

“Oh,” your small voice of surprise- at seeing such an odd looking man in the overgrown, private gardens of the temple- carried on the same wind that the dragonfly danced in. You stood and dusted off your knees, knocking any sticking dirt off your bottoms before standing up properly. You inspected the man in front of you.

Arms dark as earth with cracks of glowing gold. Clad in a white cloak that split five ways down and encompassed with a golden belt at his waist with a hood pulled over his head. The hair you could see whipping lightly in the wind behind his back was dark in color matching his arms. His trousers were wide open and baggy around his legs, only encasing snuggly around his ankles. His impressive stature gained your attention easily and you could tell he wasn’t exactly something mortal. It would be ridiculous to think just at the sight of his arms alone, not to mention the air around him seemed so… powerful.

“My apologies, I wasn’t aware we were expecting a guest today,” the courteous smile you sent him made him wonder if you weren’t at least a little apprehensive of his unexpected presence.

“You weren’t made aware because no one aside from yourself is aware of my being here.”

“I see,” you muse. “I hope you are aware that qualifies you as a trespasser.”

“Trespasser?” Morax gapped, losing his composure for a moment. His brows dipped in offense under his hood, his pride kicking into his throat through his words. “I am no such being.”

“Ah, but aren’t you just? You said yourself, no one knows you’re here. Yet, you end up in the presence of this temple’s Miko. If that does not mean you’re trespassing, what does?” Morax’s eyes hidden under his hair and flick from your head to your feet and back up again. You were the head shrine maiden? You seemed so young and yet you held such an important position? It planted a pebble of doubt in him.

Then again, if he focused on you properly, he could barely see a small circular arua around your frame. It was like a barrier was placed around you, one protected you from the outside and anything that could taint you. Exactly like the barrier surrounding the territory he had more or less invaded. Honing your spiritual power like that so young, he would’ve perhaps tutted in impressiveness if you hadn’t challenged his very being moments ago.

Still, Miko or not, he still outranked you. Crossing his arms over his chest, their golden geo pulsed with a soft light.

“With such a rank you possess, are you still so unaware when a God stands before you? A pity.”

“On the contrary,” you smile to him and his brow again twitches at your nonchalance. “I’m being quite respectful if you think on it. If you were simply a noble who lives among the palace homes, I would’ve quickly dealt with you since only a select few from outside are allowed entry into the temple. Much less this garden which is private and limited to my attendance only.”

“Are you implying you could force me away at any moment should you please?” His voice grew tight in challenge. His sense of traquilty from before discovering you was dimming and the frigid air of his battle sense were returning even as the wind continued to caress you both.

“I assure you I would do no such thing. I’m simply proving that even in the presence of a God, I will not yield since I do not even know which is in front of me. Not to mention, this land has no God to speak of or for. So, if you think about it that way, I am where one would hypothetically stand.”

Oh.

Morax felt something stir in his chest at the teasing tilt in your voice that spilled over your lips that curled into a smile. Your eyes were so clean and clear, it was like staring into crystals and he had the urge to create a new form of geo just to replicate them. The feeling was foreign to him, but it shocked him greatly when he realized it wasn’t an unwelcome stir.

He finally dropped his crossed arms and began to decrease the distance between you both. Morax came to stand in front of you so he could get an even better look at your features. As such, you could now look easily under his hood as he stood above you. His eyes seemed to glow a lovely shade of amber that complemented his glowing, golden skin and dark hair.

“Address me as, Morax,” he instructed. Your taunting smile turned soft and wide as your eyes closed in the most pleased expression he had seen in years. His amber eyes widened at the innocence and the small bells of laughter that left your throat towards him shook his unshakeable core.

“That’s much better,” you said, now obviously pleased. “I’m, y/n. It’s an honor to meet you, Morax.”

It was his name rolling off your tongue- spreading into the wind that had blown harshly for but a moment- that sent an earthquake that started at his chest and spread through his whole body. It was the sound of his own death sentence and he was once again shocked at how he easily accepted that he would definitely be back to this temple. Be back to this garden of overgrown grass and floral.

Morax would definitely be back to you.

As promised, Morax had been back to that temple several times since the first time he met you. When the weight of the archon war was- ironically- too heavy, or if he needed a place to escape just for a moment he would seek you out. It was quiet ridiculous how you had somehow wormed your way into his very soul and wrapped him around your finger.

The Lord of Geo had come to learn much about you in the time he spent by your side. Your favorite flowers and scents, when you had started your priestess training, when you had progressed to the skill level you possess now and how long you had been the acting miko of the temple. Your favorite type of weather, or time of day, or season. In turn, he had confessed things about himself as well.

How he had been around for as long as the world- or so it sometimes felt that way. How he’s in the middle of a grand and merciless war with other gods presumably because of issues to do with celestia. How he had taken many lives of both mortals and gods alike all for the sake of his own land and people. The very feeling of battle is engraved in his bones like names on a tombstone, yet it didn’t seem to push you away.

It was laughable. The very Being of war and battle was utterly infautated with you, a mortal being of purity and values. Of course, you were alway assure him that what he did was just his own values, especially his strictness with any contract he made. You neved judged him for his sins and the weight they carried, but you never outwardly agreed with him either. You told him what he needed to hear, not what he wanted and he cherished those words so dearly. If he had any less self-restraint, Morax could easily let himself take your very words as law itself.

Yet again, it was another day he had left his duties behind him as he found you kneeling in the fields of grass once again. Leaping from the outerwalls, to the rooftops of the estate, to the roof of the temple, he easily lands like a pebble hitting sand next to you. It was the rush of air beside you that alerted you of his attendance rather than any sound he made- or didn’t make.

“Hello again, Morax,” you greet as you thumb through the herbs and check the petals of nearby wildflowers. Morax kneels at your side before sitting fully in the grass, one of his knees bent up to prop his arm on with the other stretched out in front of him. A rather relaxed position you had insisted he use instead of kneeling for however long he visits would last.

“Good afternoon,” he replies. It’s silent for a while after that. The atmosphere of simply being with you was good enough for Morax. That was until the urge to speak and hear you speak in return hit his throat. “Your people seem more rowdy than usual.” He didn’t need super-enhanced senses to tell that the noise had increased since his last visit.

“You can tell that even though you’ve never properly been inside?”

“I have been inside.”

“No one knew that thought,” you tease with a finger that flicked back and forth a few times. “So, it isn’t a proper stroll in my temple.” Morax playfully chuckles at your antics. “You are correct though.”

“Is there a reason?” He had noticed it since he arrived, but the air around you seemed heavy. “Something seems to be weighing on you.”

“You’re perceptive. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked about that considering-”

“Y/n.”

You sigh before the hand that had been thumbing at flower petals falls back into the tresses of wild grass and to the ground at your side.

“The monks are gathering in a rush under Master Jiang’s orders.” Morax’s brow furrows at the information. You had mentioned this Master Jiang before. He was apparently a traveling monk that had previously been nomadic. Though, since the archon war had only gotten worse over the course of time, he had settled in the safety of your barrier and subsequently in your temple.

On the rare occasions you let your irritations get the best of you, you spilled your guts to Morax about how he was constantly chanllenging your power and position in the temple. Thinking he was better because he was older with more experience beyond the protective walls of your home. Along with the misguided misogyny of being a man. It was one thing after another, spouting off about anything that irked you until you got all your curses off your lips in the privacy of the archon.

Morax had not met this Jiang- not to mention anyone else outside of you inside the temple sense his visits weren’t exactly documented- but he already strongly disliked him. Now, he was trying to taking charge of your temple?

“For what purpose.” You do no respond to him right away and it sends a jolt through his nervous system. “Y/n. For what purpose,” he repeats with a heavier tone. You let out a sigh that feels as heavy as your aura as you sit in the field of wildgrass and flowers with the closest being to your heart.

“He’s afraid that we’re going to soon be effected by the war as well.” You didn’t need to specify which war, he was more than well aware which you were referring to.

Among the other things he had learned about you, he had come to understand why your people were save from the archon’s destruction so far. It was because of you and your power.

Inside the temple was a specific place for you to practice your skills and keep the barrier around your precious home. That didn’t showcase all you could do, however and Morax knew it. Keeping the living things inside safe and keeping all the taint out. If something did happen to get inside your barrier, you were quickly dispatched to purify it. You could tell the moment something breached your safe haven, all the proof he needed as his first appearance to you.

You had admitted ot him once that the reason you didn’t immediately cast him out was simply because you didn’t feel any hostility from his presence. He had no intention on hurting your people or home, so you allowed him access in. That barrier was an extension of your power; constant proof you were so much stronger than that stupid old monk was trying to plat down.

Morax had only heard the sound of your birch tree bowstring plucked once before, and the air instantly felt cleaner. He’d heard bells in the distant halls while he waited for you in the treetops of your private garden to avoid the chance of being seen. While with you, he had picked up on a masking you placed over him so he couldn’t be detected by others and kept safe from prying eyes. Your power still astonished him even after all this time.

“That’s asinine,” he growled. The whole ordeal of it all just set the message that they didn’t trust you and your abilities. After all you had done since you were a child to protect these people, after everything you’ve sacrificed, and they’re doubting you now? When your powers were in their prime? It was insulting.

“Morax-”

“Do not try and save their value but udnermining your own.”

“I’m not!” You cry in exasperation. You let out another sigh before letting your body lean into his shoulder and against his propped up leg. Morax froze up as your body softly collided with his own. While you had him attached to your very being, hook line and sinker, he had never once touched you. Not a single brush of his fingertips to your body or even allowing your legs to touch as you sat side by side.

The side of his body you rested on felt like a volcano on his geo-ingraved skin.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Could I stay like this just for a moment longer?”

His arm that you leaned against came to wrap around your shoulder and push your head further against him. The archon lowered his leg to join the other on the ground just so he could have you closer to him. His chin rested by your forehead and he closed his eyes letting you invade every one of his senses. Squeezing your form as he felt the trembles you tried to conceal and force to stay inside, not letting yourself break as much as he wanted you to. Morax wanted you to feel safe and open with him, but he understood all too well how difficult a task that was as someone of your strict upbringing.

“Stay here as long as you need. I will not move.” Morax was geo, the land itself. He created mountains and stone and they all know his name. He was a god of contracts and his words were just as serious as those that he holds so strictly to them. The Lord of Geo would stay your unyielding pillar for as long as you needed him. That he promised to himself as he felt your small drops of tears silently fall onto his chest that he dare not mention. The urge to wipe them away and treasure you like a fragile bell ached within him, but he dare not act on those either.

For but a brief moment, Morax- the Geo Archon- wished for a single second he was mortal. That he was like you.

Morax had no idea how this happened. What had gone wrong? Was it him? Did his sudden intrusion into your life of purity ruin everything? As a god, did his divine hands finally touch something he was never meant to?

Weeks ago you had urgently awaited his normal time of arrival but as soon as he showed, you urgently told him to leave. To leave the temple, the palace, the barrier- all of it- and never come back. You had demanded he return to the world he knew, the one filled with smoke and war and ongoing conquests. His chest filled with thick, black tar as you screamed at him and he did what any sane being would do. Morax screamed back, unable to understand and he was losing his patience bit by bit.

The Archon wanted answers, none of which he demanded for were satisfing. The monks had finally discovered that you had been meeting with an outsider from beyond the barrier; to make matters worse, they knew it was Morax who had been active in the outside war since it begun. They were focring you to make a decision and the best course of action was to push him away before things got too out of hand and would be to a point where you could do nothing.

It made no sense to Morax. He could help, he was certain of it. He’d let you direct him, use him how you like and pull his actions like a puppet on willing strings. He’d follow your every order to the letter if you just wouldn’t force him out and shun him like you were desperately trying to do.

You wouldn’t yield.

Morax hated your stubbornness now more than ever. You finally forced him away with a bracellet you had made yourself that was nothing but clear-ringing, golden bells threaded with red string. The sound they made amplified your power and he knew at just the meresight of them you were trying to make him leave.

With one flick of your wrist, he could feel invisible threads of nothing wrap around his limbs and begin to tug. Once more he tried to reason something- anything- out of you, but was met with nothing but a second ring of bells that yanked his whole being out of your barrier. Forced out and finding himself outside, he was furiously frustated. Summoning his polearm, he let out a cry before thrusting it into and then subsequently through the neearst tree effectively slicing it down.

Your final words to him stay in his ears like a parasite- pounding against his eardrums so violently he was afraid they'd burst if they continued to torment him.

“If you ever return, I will have no choice but to take further actions, Morax.”

Morax had to stay away from you. It’s what you wanted; or maybe it wasn’t your wish- but it’s what you said. What you demanded he do. Still, he didn’t know when this happened. Morax didn’t know when he decided that the last thing he would ever do is stay away.

Therefore, Morax still returned into your barrier and through your territory. Just as you had said, you were true to your words.

The moment you felt his presence trespass inside your barrier, you evacuated the palace and with the same bells you sent him away with, you summoned him back. It was like he was teleported with magic, the same invisble strings that had yanked him out now drew him in. The ringing of your bells reverated in his ears before he was standing in that same overgrown field.

Morax stood in the one spot he first saw you and you took presence in the spot he had found you kneeling. This time, there were no dragonflies humming in the air and something in him knew there never would be again.

“I told you,” you choked.

“I refuse to listen to a moral’s orders,” he bit back. It was a lie. He said he’d listen to your every word, and he meant it. Even when his desperate pleas to stay by you landed him nowhere by alone.

Morax knew there was only one option left as he eyed the staff in your hand. Your grip was so tight around it your hand trembled with the sheer force of it. Your head shook with micro-swivels on your neck as you kept your eyes on the ground.

“You should have.” Morax’s polearm materialized at his side in a moment before he took it’s familiar grip into his palm. He had only ever told you of his weapon, never wanting to show you in case it tainted you somehow. All that silly precaution seemed so pointless now.

The gentle breeze he was accustomed to had become bone chilling as you lifted your chin to finally look at him. Morax almost caved seeing your angry tears, but as you moved to engage in battle, he let his body move on it’s own. The god who was so accustomed to battle just wanted to shut his brain off for this one.

Morax didn’t want to do this.

The battle between you both was a long one. You screamed at each other. Sometimes words, sometimes just sounds of angusih and pain. You knew Morax was holding back on you, you didn’t have the power to fully stop a god and you knew it. Morax knew it. Whether he was holding back because of his affections for you or because he was toying with you, you couldn’t figure it out. The power of your barrier did limit his abilities some, but it was hardly enough to be considered a handicap.

Still, somehow, you had knocked his polearms from his hand before you forced him onto his back into the grass.

His cloack was torn and his arms of geo-glowing beauty seemed dim and dark like the shadow cast over his eyes. His hood had been knocked back while his hair was tosseled and battleworn. Your body and his were covered in cuts and burns and scrapes. Everything hurt from inside your body to the outside.

You had him on his back as you climbed over him. Your legs pinned his arms down and your weight sat on his chest, the bottom of your staff pushing into his throat as your labored breaths shook throughout your whole body. All you had to do with lift your staff just a fraction and slam it back down and you could do some major purifying damage to his body. It probably wouldn’t kill him… but what if it did? Did you have it in your to purify a god? Maybe if you tried, it would take all your strength and you could die together. You almost scoff at yourself-

-wouldn’t that be just poetic.

You could feel his own chest heaving under your weight and you knew he could easily throw you off him if he wanted to. Just like before though, he did nothing. He just lay in the grass beaten and battered as he glared beyond the staff’s pole into your face. You hated the look in his eyes.

“Will you not follow through?” He chastised with so much venom you wanted to vomit. The staff shook once with both of trembling hands holding it above his neck. You had to- it was your duty. You would be betraying your people if you let him live. For your people, for the cowardice monks who forced you here, for your ignorance for thinking you could keep Morax by your side without consequence. For everything you had trained for until now, you had to get rid of him. You had to!

Morax sucked in a breath as he readied his neck to be pulverized. Your staff came away from his throat… and soon your weight was being pushed off his body entirely. Raising to your shaking, exposed legs from your torn trousers, you took staggering steps backward from him. Morax’s glare morphed into shock as he raised to his elbows to watch you retreat.

“What-”

He watched your chest heave with frustrated tears. Choked, uneven sobs tore at your throat as you screamed before throwing your staff far from your grip. You heard it clank against Morax’s discarded polearm and thought for a moment how ironic it was. Your weapon reuinited with his in your moment of weakness- your lowest point of failure. The moment you threw duty away and chose yourself for once.

“I can’t,” you cry, falling to your knees into the singed and destroyed field that once flourished so wonderuflly. “Please, go,” you beg. Morax climbs to his feet, wincing at the wounds on his body before calling for his polearm again. Once it was again in his grip, he looked at the dried blood of yours that litered the blade. The Lord of Geo immedately dismissed it, watching it disapate into the air from whence he summoned it. He simply stood there, looking down at your crumbling frame.

What were you doing? You were going against your practices and willingly letting a supposed threat escape. He took one step in your diection, still so woefully attached to you. Watching you tear at the seams and keep unraveling in front of his very eyes. He was at a loss; what could he do to even begin to ease your suffering when he himself was part of it?

“No.” You could feel his eyes on you and his want to approach you burnt the top of your head at which he gazed. “Be gone.” You demand once again like the first day you chased him off. You didn’t hear him move and in a fit of nothing left, you tore off your bell bracellet and threw it in his direction. “Go back to where you belong!” And in a mere moment, his presence vanished and you broke completely. The eyes of the monks watched as you sobbed in the gardens, the battle they made you wage concluding with no victor.

“Zhongli…” the story behind the hairpiece and his grief was heavier than either Paimon or Traveler was expecting.

“I had planned to gift this to y/n during one of our meetings. I knew she wouldn’t be allowed to wear it of course,” he chuckled bitterly to himself. “For a great many of reasons. Still,” it would’ve proven to myself she was mine. Zhongli cleared his throat. “Regardless, I think I’ve spoken enough for once. The tea has run out and you both surely have other arrangements as the day is waning.”

“Paimon doesn’t think-”

“Then, we’ll be off,” Traveler interjects. Zhongli was just being polite but what he was really saying was that he wanted to be alone. “Thank you for telling us. Y/n sounded like a wonderful person.”

“Tis but a story.” The way he replied made it sound like he was trying to convince himself more than them. The two left his home, leaving him still sitting at the table with an empty teacup and still holding that crystal winged dragonfly like it was Teyvat’s most precious treasure.

It was quiet between Paimon and the Traveler as they walked aimlessly around Liyue. The Traveler’s mind boggled at the information they had been told and grew curious to any they hadn’t. They were almost certain that there was more to your story, but Zhongli couldn’t bare to say anymore.

“Wait,” Traveler stopped in the middle of the path, bringing their hand to cup around their mouth in thought. “That all happened during the Archon War, right?”

“Paimon thinks she remembers him mentioning that. Why?”

“Do you think Xiao would know anything about it?” Traveler thought about it, but if memory served Morax was the one who granted Xiao his name. As Paimon looked at the blond with wonder, a voice spoke behind them.

“You called?”

Paimon’s screech echoed into the air as the Traveler spun around, not expecting the very apedtus to show up. Xiao sure took the calling of his name seriously.

“Paimon never-” the floating companion looked to the blonde. “Oh, yeah. I guess we kinda did.” Xiao crosses his arms as he stands expectantly. The daytime hours were few in remaints and the streets began to slowly thin in populous, so he was less reserved about being around people, Though, he still didn’t want to linger either. Regardless of his wants, he noticed the air of tensity around you both.

“Did something happen.” It wasn’t a question, it hardly was when Xiao was involved.

“Do you know anything about a woman named y/n?” Xiao’s body when frigid as he dropped his arms and quickly stepped up to the both of you. Coming nearly toe to toe as the Traveler squeaked and took a half step back.

“How do you know that name.” Once again, Xiao wasn’t asking. Traveler looked around and decided that standing in the middle of the road wasn’t the best place for this conversation.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

The newly formed trio had migrated outside the city and out into the wilderness by a river. Xiao and Traveler took to sitting among stones, Xiao crossing his legs and Traveler letting their’s dangle. Paimon’s ever floating presence never going too far from the two. They sat and listened to the sound of the bable of running water, trying to find a way to reopen the previously halted conversation.

“Did Rex Lapis tell you about y/n?” Xiao ripped the bandage off first, something Traveler was almost thankful for. “That’s the only possible conclusion I can think of if you know her name since she wasn’t memorialized during her lifetime.”

“Yeah, he did. I’m pretty sure he chased us out before he could tell us everything though.” Xiao nodded. Earnest understanding shone in his eyes but there was something else behind those irises of his, but the Traveler couldn’t figure out what it was. “Did you knew her too, Xiao?” He nodded again.

“Not long after Morax found me and gave me my name, I found out that he was frequently paying visitation to a mortal woman. I thought he was being reckless, so he took me to meet her one day.”

“He took you himself?” Paimon questioned.

“Yes. He wanted to prove a point.”

Xiao could still remember his first impression of you. You had scolded Morax as soon as he landed in the familiar garden, arms crossed and mouth opening in reprimands. Calling him foolish for bringing a highly detectable entity beyond your barrier- one he didn’t even realize he had breached with his archon- and that if you hadn’t masked his spiritual signal just like how you did with his own, he’d be in a world of trouble.

Seeing Morax take your scolding as he stood there bemused, Xiao’s first thought was that he did not like you. He distrusted you. What kind of mortal argues with a god on what they can and cannot do like you did? It was ludicrous. Still, the moment Morax introduced him as his newest comrade named Xiao, you smiled at him. You sent along with that smile a warm welcome and he suddenly felt awkward.

“Xiao,” you called to his back before he was to leave with Morax at the need to return back outside your walls. He did not turn around to face you, but he did not move until you spoke again. “Feel free to come back and visit anytime. I’ll keep you covered.”

“Rex Lapis- Morax- was the one who saved me and gave me the name Xiao. I respect him and owe him a great deal- a debt I may not truly be able to ever repay in full. In mortal terms, some may say he’s like a father to me.” Xiao’s chin lifted up to the darkening sky. The day had felt so long, the Traveler hadn’t realized just how late it was beginning to get. “If Morax was a father, then y/n was my mother."

The yaksha can still remember the first time he had sought you out for himself without Morax with him he was recoiling from karmic debt. It didn’t take a genius to know that he felt lighter in your presence- your purifying light helping ease his burdensn whether you did so purposely or not.

It was late into the night when you had awoken abruptly from your sleep to the sensation of Xiao passing through the barrier. You sprung up from your futon, quickly focusing on his approach and cloaking him the best you could. His energy was rough, dark and pulsing and it worried you. You quickly made your way out to the garden where you knew he’d be and unshockingly enough was when you arrived.

Curled into himself on his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso as black smoke engulfed him like vines. Gasping and sweating, he weakly stay collapsed in the grass as you ran to his side.

“Xiao!” You whispered in anxiety as you knelt next to him, your eyes teary in fright. “What’s happening to you?” He didn’t answer, just shook his head with heavy, labored breaths. The moment, your hand came to rest on his back, his eyes rolled back with a fraction of his burden easing off his shoulders. Xiao slumped into you, his shoulder and neck pushing into your legs as his head rested partially on your stomach. His sudden collison knocked you back into the grass, your previously kneeling form now firmly planted on the ground.

“Please,” he gasped as your other hand had come to his shoulder that wasn’t pushing into your lap. “Please, could you… sing.” In truth, he wasn’t sure why he asked that of you. He didn’t know what possessed him to request something so odd, but regardless of the oddity, you did. Your mouth had opened and you slowly and softly began to sing him a lullaby he had never heard before that night.

It was like a blanket of early morning mist started to coat his burning, heavy body. His aching came to a slow stop as his mind became clearer. You sang the lullaby over and over again until the effects of his karmic debt had disappeared into the evening air. Even when he went completely lax on your lap and your hands had moved to run through his hair and across his back, you kept singing until early that next morning Morax had come to retrieve his missing Adeptus.

As Xiao in the present looked at the stars, tracing constellations, he once again was reminded of your lullaby. You sang that to him many times after that and he remembered every single instance. It wasn’t far-fetched to say that the reason Barbarto’s song’s calmed him so is because he’s reminded of you in those moments and tunes.

Yes, Xiao came to revere you just as much as his Archon- even though you were just a mere mortal.

“So,” Traveler spoke up softly, trying to gently pull him from his obvious reminiscing. “What happened to y/n? Zhongli mentioned that he had fought her, but what happened then? Did they ever see each other again?”

“No,” Xiao’s face contorted into a grimmance as his fist’s balled in his lap. “Y/n was executed before Morax could ever see her again.” His fists were so tightly balled they shook, clearly he still resented the fate you had been subjected to.

“Executed?!” Paimon exclaimed. “But- but why?!”

“Because she let Morax live.” The yaksha’s eyes narrowed as he gnashed his teeth. “Those filthy monks that poisoned her temple confined her to a dungeon cell where they starved and deprived her of anything. Letting her suffer for days before placinig a curse and executing her all because she refused kill an Archon.”

“Did those people really not like Archons that much?” Paimon asked.

“They were monsters!” He exclaimed. “Y/n had been raised to choose the people over her own desires, but the moment she wanted something for herself they-”

“Xiao,” Traveler interrupted, reaching out their hand to place it on his folded knee.

“She didn’t deserve the fate they gave her.” Traveler only nodded at his solemn tone. “When her execution was carried out, Morax… he reacted to an extreme.”

“An extreme?” Paimon inquires. Xiao nodded, lifting his head back up from where it had been tucked towards his chest in anger.

“The moment y/n’s barrier disappeared Morax stormed inside. He destroyed everything he could get his hands on. I… I was with him.” Xiao was enraged at the news of your demise, but he knew as he watched the back of his Archon as took the lives of the lowly monks who dared try to outrank you that the grief and emotions Morax felt course through him far outweighed his own.

By day's end, the entire palace, surrounding village, and temple were all up in flames or crushed into rubble. Standing among the burning wreckage that stunk of ash, blood and death Morax plunged his polearm into the earth and screamed with no one left to witness him aside from Xiao. Instead of trying to approach his archon, he instead kept his eyes on the remains of buildings going up in flames like a personal pyre in remembrance of you.

“After that, Morax stopped talking about her to anyone. It was like he pushed her into the recesses of his mind and tried to erase her altogether. With the meeting of other Archons and the assembly of Liyue, it seemed like he was trying to move forward.”

“Poor Zhongli,” Paimon whined. “Star crossed lovers sure are sad to think about.”

“To this day, there’s no one y/n has cared for as deeply as Morax.” At Xiao’s confession, Traveler’s ears perked. Did they hear that right?

“Hold on,” they started, “what do you mean ‘to this day’?” Xiao’s body stiffened. He cleared his throat before he looked away, hoping that silence would push past his slip up. “Xiao!”

“It meant nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I am not.”

“Paimon thinks so too!”

“Your input does not encourage much.”

“Hey!”

“Xiao,” Traveler tries again, arms crossing over their chest as they straighten their sitting posture on the stone they still sat on. Xiao cursed himself at deflating so easily in the face of the blond’s pressure.

The Adeptus took after his Archon in that sense it would seem.

“If you can keep it a secret,” he hesitated, “then I have somewhere to take you.” Xiao’s face turned back and looked the Traveler into the eyes. They could see just house uneasy his gaze was, yet still under it was a stern ‘this is important’ before everything else. They nodded deeply towards him and force another sigh from his lips. The two of them jump from their stone seats as Xiao points in a direction. “Then follow me.”

“Paimon can keep a secret too!”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Still, Xiao let her follow him too. The more the merrier you’d say- or at least he hopes.

“I had no idea there was a place like this in Liyue!” Paimon exclaims after Xiao had taken both her and the Traveler along a path through the forests and into a clearing. After approaching what appeared to be nothing, his figured seemed to pass through something. The two who accompanied him both gawked at his sudden disappearance into thin air before he was reappearing from nowhere. ‘Hurry up,’ he had told them as they cautiously followed his once again disappearing back.

Beyond the boundary of nothingness was a fairly large home that was longer than the clearing thy where previously in. The path forward was lined with trees and during the daytime they provided comfortable shade for any who walked under them. Now though, they just casted nighttime shadows of moonlight. The air felt different from the forest’s air as well. As if it had been filtered through something and made even cleaner than normal.

Xiao walked with confidence through the path of trees and up the steps of the elongated home like he had done it a million times before. He didn’t even stop to check and make sure that both Traveler and Paimon were still behind him and hadn’t instead wandered off. The lanterns that lit the halls cast moving shadows along the walls and they danced off Xiao’s back as they continued to trail after his heels.

Soon, he came to a stop outside a set of doors before looking at Traveler briefly then back again. He knocked twice around the hardened sides of the doorframe and didn’t wait for any signs of noise before taking further action. Sliding them open, he stepped inside and the Traveler and Paimon naturally followed.

It was a large room, a small floor desk tucked away on one side littered with papers, books and ink. Another set of doors opposite from the ones he had just walked through led out to an open terrace that further pushed out into a stone garden. On the opposite side of the room was an unfurled, messy futon that lacked a body to rest inside it.

Xiao sighed at seeing the empty futon and made his way out the doors to the wooden terrace. Apparently he had found who he was looking for since he began to speak and it wasn’t to the Traveler.

“Why are you not resting?”

“How could I when I have visitors?” A voice answered him and it made the skin on the Traveler’s face flush. It sounded clear like bells and was as soft as a gentle stream. Holding such composure- it reminded them of Zhongli’s voice and how aged it was. Xiao backed up into the room again as someone had came inside.

The dark hour left the woman mostly unseen, but Xiao was quick to start lighting a lantern for light.

“Thank you, Xiao,” she commented as the wick began to burn with a flickering flame. Traveler’s face remained flush at the woman in front of them. She didn’t just sound wise, she looked it. Like she had seen many years and experienced many things- but still looked so young. Xiao moved to her side and Traveler didn’t need to ask if the woman in front of them was who they thought she was. “Are you friends of Xiao’s?”

“Yes,” Traveler whispered before they cleared their throat and answered again. “Yes, we are.”

“I see.” Xiao cleared his own throat, turning his head away at the gaze the woman sent him. Luckily the lantern didn’t light the room the greatest so his tinted cheeks stayed between the duo and didn’t reach the Traveler’s eyes. Looking back, she smiled warmly and it seemed exactly like how Zhongli explained. “It’s lovely to meet you both. My name is y/n.”

“WHAT?!” Paimon exclaimed before slapping her hands over her mouth. Both at the discourtesy and the late hour she had yelled into.

“I assume you have a great deal of questions,” you tell them, “but, for now I think we should table all that for tomorrow. You’re both more than welcome to stay here for the night. Xiao can lead the way for you.”

With that, somehow the two travel companions ended up in a guest room with two futons and Xiao telling them to get some rest before leaving and presumably going back to your side.

You had once again left your room to sit on the terrace and Xiao joined you. Sitting beside you, his head coming up to your shoulder in height as you both looked and focused on nothing.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked.

“Not particularly, no. Shocked, maybe. I wasn’t expecting someone else to follow in behind you from the forest.”

“I apologize.”

“There’s no need.” You slowly bring your hand up to rest on the back of Xiao’s head, a comfort to both him and you. Just like how Xiao described you as a mother, you didn’t ever think of him as anything less than what you assumed a son would be like. “It’s actually helped me with something that’s been on my mind lately.”

Xiao just grabbed onto the sleeve of the robe you wore, not saying anything but conveying enough for you to understand.

“I’ll explain it tomorrow. For now, how about a lullaby?” Even from the guest room and with Paimon already asleep, the Traveler could hear a faint song in the air before drifting to sleep.

“Sooo, how old are you?”

“Paimon!” Traveler yelled. “That’s rude!”

“I was just asking a question!”

“Ask a different one!”

The small squabble that earned a sigh from Xiao the next morning led you into a small laughing fit. The group of you were gathered in a drawing room used for when Xiao would visit you during your days. You’d spend time listening to things Xiao would encounter outside, and while it was a good way to pass the time you would otherwise spend alone, it felt better with more lively guests like this.

“Xiao’s older than I am, so please rest assured I’m younger than you think.”

“Xiao’s older?!”

“Ahem,” the Yaksha interrupts by clearing his throat, “age matters aside, don’t you think now would be a good time for an explanation. If we’re gone from Liyue too long, Zhon- er- Rex Lapis could get suspicious.”

“Why’d you correct yourself like that Xiao?” Paimon asks before you answer for him.

“He feels like Morax’s mortal name makes me uncomfortable. I’ve told him time and time again that it doesn’t bother me, but he insists on using his other titles. Feel free to keep referring to him as you’re used to, I won’t get confused.”

“How considerate of him,” Paimon dryly says, pulling another chuckle from you.

“In any case, Xiao is right. I assume he told you about me, seeing as he brought you here himself.”

“Sort of,” Traveler starts. “Zhongli is actually the one who told us about you. Xiao just told us more.” A shocked look passes over your features when you hear that the former Archon had opened up about you at all. “He said that someone from his past died around this time and we were worried about him. We kind of… pressured him into telling us.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Xiao said as he crossed his arms. “If Rex Lapis truly didn’t wish to speak about it, he wouldn't have. Believe me. He’s too stubborn.”

“Be nice,” you lightly chide him. “Still, it’s a shock. I thought he would’ve buried his memories of me long ago.”

“I’ve told you,” Xiao spoke up again, “Rex Lapis- he still-”

“Xiao.” Your voice was stern for a moment before he clammed up.

“Sorry,” he spoke defeatedly. Instead of staying quiet and letting the awkward air cloud up the room, he started up the discussion of why he had brought outsiders here in the first place. “Traveler, do you remember when I told you that Lady y/n had been executed?” Traveler nodded and was shocked at his use of a title. He didn’t use one at all when he was talking about you yesterday? Did he always address you personally like that? “Do you also recall how I mentioned how before she was killed, she was cursed.”

“Oh yeah,” Paimon acknowledges. “Paimon remembers you saying something like that.”

“It’s because of that curse that she’s still alive.”

“They cursed her not to die? Doesn’t that seem kinda dumb since they apparently executed her for not defeating Zhongli?” Paimon’s face scrunched before her entire being deflated. “Paimon doesn’t get it.”

“That isn’t quite correct. I can die,” you inform them. Xiao’s fist twitched as his gently grasped the fabric of his pants in his palms. “In fact, I have died several times. The curse i bare is that I cannot stay dead.”

“Isn’t that still contradictory to what the monk’s were trying to accomplish?” Traveler asks.

“Not necessarily. Back in my original life, I had broken a vow I had been raised on: placing my people above myself and never being selfish. That one sacred vow being broken was enough for Jiang to label me a treasonous traitor. This eternal life of mine is punishment for that crime.”

“That’s so dumb!” Paimon exclaims. You continue to explain after she’s finished huffing. Her puffy face was quite amusing to look at as she crossed her small arms like she was offended on your behalf.

“My curse resets my life to the point in time I was killed. Therefore, any injuries or illnesses I received in previous lives have all but vanished. I can still starve and freeze to death. I can become ill and contract diseases just like a normal mortal. I’ll die if I'm stabbed and I’ll scar if I’m burned. Still, even after all that, I’ll simply wake up again like none of it happened. This prolonged suffering is what Jiang and his acolytes were after.”

“That’s terrible,” Traveler whispers. “Have you died many times?”

“I’ve lost count.” You raise your hand to look at your palm that has been the same as the first time you woke up from death. In the ruins of your destroyed temple you were foggy minded and confused before your entire being filled with dread. “I’ve lived so many lives I cannot remember them all, but I know I’ve touched on every type. I’ve gone mad, harming people around me and myself. I’ve given in to every sin in hopes that they would allow me to die and not come back. I’ve even tried ending the cycle myself, but all to no avail.”

You took a deep breath before dropping your hand back to your lap.

“As stained as I am now, I’m hardly the priestess I used to be. I can never be that pure original version of me, but I’ve long accepted that. I’m quite… content with my life right now.”

“Content my foot,” Xiao huffed. “You were planning to stay alone for a lot longer if I hadn’t found you.”

“Wait,” Paimon piques, “found you?”

“It was purely by chance,” you explain. “Sometimes, I’ll venture into Liyue but under a cloaked disguise so I’m not recognized or detected. Some years ago, I accidentally ran into Xiao near Wangshuu Inn and spoke his name purely out of reflex. He heard me and well, it was safe to say he wasn’t exactly pleased as he tracked me down.”

“I was frustrated,” he corrected. “I came to find out you were alive and hiding for eons after thinking you were long dead.”

“I know.”

“Imagine how Morax would feel if he knew!”

“I know, Xiao,” you repeat. “That’s something I actually want to talk to you about.” Xiao stills in his rampage before his arms slowly uncurl and his posture takes on something uncomfortable. “You’ve kept my life a secret for some time now, omnienting the truth from the Archon you respect so much. I’m sorry for asking such a selfish request.” You turn to look at the slack faced boy before bringing your hand to cup his chin affectionately. Traveler felt like they were impeding on a parental moment as they tried to look anywhere but you both. “If you want to, you can tell him the truth now.”

Xiao’s hand comes to quickly clasp around your wirst that started to fall away from his face. His mouth opens before it closes again. He was torn between what he’s been wanting to do for so long and the open permission to actually do it.

“Are you… for certain?”

“Yes,” you swallow a lump in your throat. “I’m certain.” Xiao quickly takes your wrist out of his grip before he’s rushing to stand up. He stands with such a force he teeters on his feet before going to the door. He didn’t want to wait a single moment longer. “Xiao!” He stops momentarily and he’s reminded just for a brief moment how you spoke his name like that to his back the first day he ever met you milinia ago. This time though, he spun to look you in the eyes. “Take this with you,” you had gotten up from your place and placed your hand out of a nearby window. Bringing it back in not longer after, an insect of glimmering colors hummed through the space and landed on his shoulder.

“A dragonfly!” Paimon exclaims as Traveler also rose to their feet ready to follow Xiao out. Xiao just nods before dashing out of the door. Being inside your barrier always made it hard for him to teleport between locations, so he had to get outside first. “Traveler, lets catch up with Xiao!” Paimon says, pointing after him.

“Yeah,” they agree before looking back to you as you stay by at the window.

“Get going now,” you urge before Traveler was awkwardly bowing to you and running out, calling Xiao’s name to try and get him to ‘slow down and wait up!’

Once alone again, you felt a coil settle in your chest. It was the same tightness you felt when Xiao had found you. Found out you were alive as you confessed everything to his insistent pleading after following you into your barrier. You braced your hands on the window pane before swallowing a lump in your throat.

You never got the proper chance to tell Morax how you felt about him in your original life. It was wrong for a mortal like you to fall in love with a god- much less in the middle of a world altering war. You would’ve been far more foolish to confess your feelings than you were when you let him go.

The tight coil only grows barbed spikes as you remember the last time you ever saw him. Laying beneath you as you pinned him down. Standing before you as you demanded him away. Feeling the empty air as he vanished right before you eyes.

Xiao had told you that he was the one responsible for destroying your home. Burning it all down and destroying everything in his sight all because you had died. He was so filled with anguish and you didn’t know if you fully believed it. Xiao insisted that Morax hasn’t cared for a single soul as much as he cared for you. Even know as he lived as Zhongli you still hadn’t been replaced. You didn’t know if you believed that either.

“I won’t regret this… will I?” You ask no one as you feel yourself start to pathetically cry. “Weak,” you call yourself as you stand alone in the empty home you constructed for yourself long ago.

“Did you find him yet?” Traveler asks Xiao as they met back up in the middle of Liyue. Zhongli wasn’t at the funeral parlor and Hu Tao didn’t know where he had meandered off to before they came looking for him. He wasn’t at his home nor was he listening to that storyteller at Three-Round Knockout like usual. “Last place is the harbor. He was at the bridge when we found him, so let’s go look.”

They made haste to the bridge, but with crestfallen faces it was devoid of any kind of descended Archon. They were about to recollect their thoughts and try and figure out if there was any other place he frequented they could try when someone spoke up behind them.

“You all seem troubled,” the familiar voice of Zhongli startled all three of them as they all whipped around to look at him. He looked as composed as usual, maybe even a bit better than yesterday. Maybe airing some of his grievances helped him out a bit after all. Still, who knows how the news Xiao had for him would effect his mental well being.

“Rex- ahem- Zhongli, I need to speak with you.” In the heat of the moment, Xiao almost addressed him as Rex Lapis. Calling him that in the middle of the busy day would be a mistake, so it was good he caught himself. Zhongli looked at Xiao’s steadfast gaze and let it travel over to the blond and their companion who’s always had an issue keeping quiet.

“You all look stiff, like something has happened.”

“That’s Zhongli for you,” Paimon remarks. “Always perceptive.”

“So, it’s as I surmised.”

“I’ll explain everything, but it can’t be here.” Xiao stepped in.

“I understand,” Zhongli sighs. “Come with me. We can talk outside the city away from any possible prying ears. I would prefer to not be cooped up indoors.”

Just like the day before, Zhongli took the group out to the same river Xiao did; it was far from the people and now he stood cross-armed and ready for any sort of explanation. Traveler stayed quiet, knowing it was Xiao’s wish to say something first and made sure Paimon stayed quiet too. If anything, they were there to make sure nothing got out of hand- this was truly between them.

“On behalf of someone else’s word, I’ve been keeping something from you. It’s about… It’s about, y/n.”

“Xiao,” Zhongli bit and Xiao felt the words get stuck in his throat the moment your name left his mouth. Zhongli’s tone was already on edge. Just the mention of your name was enough to make the Archon nearly growl. The former divine being had been feeling the blanket of grief hold him down more this year than previous ones, the fact that he opened up about you just the day prior to the Traveler made old wounds throb. The last thing he wanted was to talk about you and make everything hurt all over again for another time.

“I understand you don’t want to talk about her, but please hear me out.”

“I will not entertain whatever thoughts you think you need to say. Y/n died a long time ago, you should leave her in the past.” His words were ironic since he himself couldn’t even do that.

“You don’t understand.”

“Xiao.”

“Please, she-”

“Enough!”

“She’s still alive!” Xiao, fed up with his god not letting him get a word in, blurted it out. He inwardly recoiled, not wanting to just say it like that. He wanted to ease into it, try and slowly explain it so Zhongli would accept it easier. “Y/n, she’s… she’s alive.”

There was silence so heavy it kept Xiao’s head down with an invisible force. His eyes stayed locked onto the boots of the one person who he respected the most. If he had never felt fear before this very moment, now would be the perfect introduction to it as he felt the burning gaze of Zhongli on his skull.

“Is that an attempt at a ill-advised jest,” Zhongli’s voice put on a dangerous tone. It was understandable and justified however. Who would just believe that the one mortal an Archon fell in love with thousands of years ago was alive? It sounded ludacris and Zhongli did not enjoy feeling like a fool.

“He’s telling the truth!” Paimon defended. Her mental restraint on not talking snapped at seeing Xiao look so meak under Zhongli’s overwhelming stature. Zhongli’s gaze shifted from Xiao to Paimon who squealed at the intensity before flying to hide behind the Traveler’s shoulder. His gaze was hard, stern, and angry.

“What could you possibly know? You only just learned about who she was through me- without my telling you so, y/n would be only a memory shared between Xiao and myself alone.”

“We know because we met her,” Traveler tell him. His fists clench and his jaw locks.

Zhongli couldn't stand lies or liars, and yet he wanted everything the group in front of him said to be bold face lies. Zhongli trusted the Traveler and Xiao the most out of almost anyone he knew presently. He trusted them with his secret and they always tried their best in their own duties and goal to find their sibling. He respected them and trusted them with his life as both Zhongli and Rex Lapis.

But did he trust them with your life?

With the promise of you being alive coming from Xiao and backed up by the Traveler, the former Archon was notably torn. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and have this all be some sort of illusion. A trick of the mind that will leave him crumbling just like the day he first lost you. He didn’t thinking he could take that kind of anguish again.

The Traveler stepped up and took Xiao’s hand in one of theirs and the other took hold of Zhongli’s. Paimon floated out from behind them as the blond made both of the immortal being bring their gazes up to them.

“Xiao can take you to her just like he did with us. Y/n is waiting.” The curled fist of Zhongli’s lessened enough to wrap around the Traveler’s comforting touch. He looked back at Xiao who had been looking at the blond with such gratefulness for salvaging the situation before calling his attention back. His amber gaze had loosened up, but they weren’t the normal eyes of Zhongli. Morax was peeking around the irises of the tallest among the group.

“This is no lie?”

“I would never lie to you.”

“Yes,” he breathed out, “I know.” He took a breath, feeling so embarrassingly out of character. It was then that he noticed the small insect that had been on Xiao this whole time. The trio had seemed to forget you sent them back with the dragonfly, but Zhongli knew. He sucked in a breath as he looked at it. “Take me to see her at once,” he commanded. Xiao wasted no time in teleporting all three of his companions to the edge of your barrier he had memorized the location of.

Zhongli’s hand was dropped by the Outworlder as he walked to the edge of it. He could sense the familiar power from years past and reached his hand up to place his palm on it. It bent with his palm like a bubble before it pushed through, rippling the distorted view of cloaked foliage behind it. He hesitated, but a slight push at his back had him walking in- well, stumbling in.

His face mirrored the Traveler’s when they had first seen the area behind the barrier. He could feel you everywhere and his body started moving before he could stop. Xiao and Traveler called after him as he took off into a sprint towards the house under the tree’s shadows. It felt like a ribbon had tied itself around his wrist and was yanking him forward. The dragonfly that had sat perched and patient on Xiao had taken off with Zhongli, acting as a guide as it flew in front of him.

“Take me to her,” he pleaded with the buzzing bug. “Like last time,” he remembered how a similar bug had led him to you that first time. He felt so vulnerable as he ran into the house, barging through the doors and dashing through halls with abandon. Zhongli felt mortal with his emotions controlling his actions and his desperation oozing out of his very core. He should be in better control of himself, but he can’t control his body no matter how much he tries. “Take me to her!”

The dragonfly had flown to a corridor that led into a vast open space. Stairs of three steps led out into an open garden with bushes, flowers, and carefully created paths to walk. It was a far cry from the overgrown, wild garden of the past. A stone canopy held up with four strong pillars covered the peaceful place from the sun and a small stone table sat among the paths intersection.

His breath was labored, chest heaving as the dragonfly continued out into the garden and his pace slowed down until the insect had taken a turn just outside the cover of the canopy. The dragonfly stopped, perching itself on an outstretched finger and Zhongli almost collapsed.

“Thank you,” you said to the dragonfly before it lifted off your finger and took off in a random direction, its job fulfilled. The sun bathed you in a golden light Zhongli could remember from eon’s ago and as he stared at you, a tear fell heavily and unstrained from his eye.

You weren’t sure what to say as you looked at him, but when you saw that tear fall you were ready to immediately apologzie. You never got the chance. Instead you were frozen in surprise when he had somehow appeared directly in front of you and encased you to himself.

Sealing his body to yours, his arm wrapped around your lower back and one of his hands pushed your head against his neck. His back curled inwards, bending you backward enough so that your back arched and he could form you to him even further. You were so warm and he felt himself choke as his nose took in your scent from atop your head. It was different from before, but he could still smell you in it- altered or not. It proved that you weren’t some fake, you were real.

Zhongli nuzzled into the top of your head, greedily taking in everything of you he could. You had placed your hands on his sides before sliding them up to his back. One of your hands snagged into the fabric of his coat and the other stayed wound around his back. He could feel you start to shake and he felt a bit better than he wasn’t the only one overly-emotional.

“You’re alive,” he whispers into your hair, voice cracking enough the wind could easily pick it up and take it somewhere far away. You just nodded into his chest as he somehow gripped you to him tighter, closer. “You’re alive,” he repeats like he’s trying to convince himself this isn’t a dream.

“Yes,” you sob. “Yes.”

As the two of you stood under the sun in a garden different from the one in his memories, he took no notice of the three other figures who had finally caught up to him after taking off on his own. Xiao felt a weight lift off his chest at seeing you two finally reunited and Traveler gently took his head in comfort. He had no chance to get embarrassed at the action, instead he just squeezed it back as he watched his long-seperated family cling to each other.

Xiao felt whole again for this one moment and he knew that you both did too.

“I’ve missed you so,” Zhongli confesses into your locks and you almost laugh if it wasn’t choked up on your dying sobs turned to sad sniffles. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniff as you let your arms slowly start to retract from him. He knew that things needed to be discussed and explanations needed to start somewhere, but he was reluctant to let go. His arms released you, but his palms were quick to gently cup your cheeks instead to tilt your face up to him. Your eyes were swollen and the whites of them irritated due to your tears. He looked no better.

Zhongli ran his gloved thumbs over your cheeks and across your eyes when you closed them when he got too close with his touch. He planted his feet between yours before pushing his forehead on yours and choosing to bask in your sun bathed body before anything close to closure ensues.

“Um,” you break the silence, but like last time, nothing else gets out before your interrupted.

“Call me by my name.”

“What?”

“My name,” he repeats. “Please.” He didn’t want to hear his mortal name or any of his other countless name and titles he’s collected over the years. No. His ears yearned for the name you knew him by. After all this time, he just wanted you to call him-

“Morax.”

Zhongli collapsed at last. His hands that cupped your cheeks dropped as did he. He came to his knees in front of you, his empty hands easily latching onto yours in lieu of your cheeks. His head hung as he sat- kneeled- at your feet. You shuffled in astonishment and shock as he took your hands and pushed them against his forehead pleadingly.

“Again.”

“Morax,” you whispered and he could hear the embarrassment in your tone. He chuckled as a shiver ran through his entire being.

“Once more.”

“You’re being spoiled.”

“I think I’m more than qualified.” He hears you chuckle and he could perish right here in this very instant without regret at the sound. It was just as he remembered.

“Morax.”

“This time,” he starts speaking as he feels you slowly start to join him on the ground. Your hands had twisted in his grasp to hold them back. “This time,” he starts again, “you’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

You pull both of your encased hands to your lips, kissing his gloves and he wishes he took them off. His wish must’ve been yours as well since you slowly started to remove his gloves and revealed the dark, golden imbedded skin he kept hidden to the public eye. Your eyes remained closed as you worked, like you had dreamed of doing this so many times you didn’t need your sight. Once again, you placed your lips on his knuckles and it was like his skin was alight with lava.

Reopening your eyes, you adjusted your hands so that your fingers were now interlaced, fingertips resting on top of each other’s hands as your palms were on the warm ground to lean closer to him. You push your forehead back against his, breathing in his air that became tangled with your own. Smiling so softly at him that he released one of your intertwined hands to push his fingers into your hair behind your ear and pull you even closer to him. He wondered if he could meld your very existence into his own and become the earth itself among the garden.

“I’ll stay until you don’t want me,” you declare.

“I’ll never not want you, my dear. We have too much time to make up for and many stories to share, should time continue to allow it.”

“Time is nothing but a concept to me now,” you chuckle bitterly. You would tell him about it all later, but now wasn’t the time. It would dampen the mood too bitterly for your tastes.

A contract was made under the sun behind a barrier that had kept you concealed and hidden from his faze. Your intertwined hands were the signatures finalizing that contract. Zhongli wasn’t ever going to let you slip through his fingers again- he promised himself that as he held tighter onto your warmth and you to his.

Zhongli couldn’t wait to finally give you the hairstick he had held onto for a millenia in your memory. Even more, he couldn’t wait to see it glimmer under your locks of hair since there was nothing and no one holding you back anymore.

a/n: pls god like/reblog/tell me your thoughts. this is babies first genshin fic and it's got so many words im so anxious i could throw up. i only edited this like one and a half times bc words became mushy and my eyeballs started melting. pls excuse the shift between past and present tense, my eyeballs - as aforementioned- are melting

if @scara7102 sees this it wouldn't let me tag you uh oh

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli hurt/comfort #zhongli angst #zhongli fluff #zhongli #rex lapis #morax x reader #morax #zhongli fic #genshin impact x reader

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