#[ guizhong / humanity. ] they are so small; they know not when they will lose their lives to disaster or strife. and so they are afraid. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

festive · 1 year

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Always n Forever ꕤ

a story in which, Morax has always had his eyes on you, one of Guizhong’s priestess — after a long battle and the succession of defending Guili plains, she allows him to have his way with you as a reward.

wc: 5.6k (sorry!)

contents+warnings: fem!reader, heavy breeding, mating presses, marking, overstimulation, cum eating, female!reader, monsterfucking, anal, vaginal penetration, use of aphrodisiacs, dubcon(?), size kink, slight spoilers(?), blowjobs, reincarnation. (This kinda follows the what if theory that Ningguang is the reincarnation of Guizhong.) HALF DRAGON ZHONGLI!

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs for about a month, posting it for @thicksimpx 🫶🏼 anyways, thank you to my beta readers: @manjiroscum @bubble4u & @gabzlovesu 💗

Men, women, children, and even adepti gather in the plains of Guili for this night of repose — gathering around the trees that were birthed from the earth while they sing songs of victory underneath the golden leaves as the gods sit high above.

“The Guili assembly has grown quite significantly,” Guizhong muses. There’s a smile on her face as she fondly watches the humans rejoice in victory below. Some of them were born here, while others sought refuge after losing their homes in the war — Guizhong loved them all the same. “And even though this victory is temporary, I wish all nights could be like this.”

And although Guizhong is talking, her companion, Morax, does not say anything. Instead, he takes a sip of his wine from his dish as he watches intently below — his gaze focused on the form of a woman, carefully stringing along her guzheng as children crowd around her.

From the corner of her eye, Guizhong catches a glimpse of Morax hunched over, his chin resting in his palms as he focuses on something other than her.

“Is there something on your mind? I’ve never seen you so focused,” Guizhong teases, taking a sip of her wine. “Or perhaps someone?”

Guizhong follows his gaze, and amongst the crowd of faces, she’s able to spot you. That’s when she pieces two and two together.

It doesn’t take a god to see the attraction that Morax has to you. It hasn’t gone unnoticed by Guizhong either, the way his eyes always search for you whenever he steps foot in her temple.

“Morax,” Guizhong sings as she rocks back and forth in her seat, the contents of her drink spilling from the dish. There’s an all-knowing look on her face.

Morax merely grunts, looking at her with a blank expression.

“Have you perhaps taken an interest in one of my maidens,”

Morax doesn’t say anything. He’d rather not tell her how he’s been watching you for ages and how something about your softness moved even his war-hardened self, your kind deeds towards others never going unnoticed by the lord of geo. But Guizhong is not stupid — nothing gets past her crimson gaze.

Even Cloud Retainer muses beside the lord of dust. She shifts her attention towards the small adepti in her arms, the chubby horned child bouncing in glee.

“I can tell by the glint in your eyes, my old friend,”

If Morax was the brawns behind Liyue, then it was without a doubt that Guizhong was the brains. He looks at her — his eyebrows furrowing.

“Am I really that easy to read,” Morax asks, earning a response from his peer.

“I’ve known you for centuries, Morax,”

Both gods watch from afar as you and the rest of Guizhong’s maidens pass out food to the others, the sound of laughter carrying through the air.

“You know, Morax. Humans’ lives are feeble. What’s a year to us is almost an eternity to humans.”

There’s a pregnant pause, Morax’s attention shifting back to your form in the distance.

“I am a god of war, not a god of love. I know nothing about the affairs of the heart,”

Guizhong sighs, thinking of ways to get the two of you together until it dawns on her. “I’ll have my daughters prepare for the night tomorrow. You will meet her in my shrine.”

Morax turns towards the ash-haired woman as he quirks a brow. She merely smiles in response. “Think of this as a reward, a temporary arrangement for the success of defending our lands.”

There’s a curtain of silence that befalls the room, not a single word uttered as you’re placed in front of an expensive vanity lined with costly jewels and desirable ores. You fidget in your seat, and the wooden stool beneath you creaks at the movement.

“My lady, must I really do this?” You ask with a slight edge to your tone, your eyes wandering nervously from your reflection in the mirror to her.

An uneasy feeling bubbles in your stomach as you wait for Guizhong to answer — and if she could notice your change in demeanor, she did a great job at pretending she didn’t. But then again, she’s a god, and you’re a human. She could never understand the anxiety you’re feeling even if you were to voice your concerns. The divine being would never feel even an ounce of your uncertainty. Thus one of the pros of being a god, you think.

Guizhong drags the brush along your eyelid, perfectly lining your eyes as she carries the crimson shade of red across your skin. The after result gives you a charming but soft look.

“Relax, my child, everything will be alright,” Guizhong’s voice is soft. She dips the brush she was using into a sticky mixture before dipping it into the bowl that contains the red substance. Then, bringing it to your mouth, she traces it along your lips.

If your goddess said it’s going to be alright, then you suppose it’s best to trust her. After all, you owe her your life, considering she took you in after the providence was destroyed — gave you a status, fed you, and raised you like you were her own.

When Guizhong pulls away, you steal glances in the mirror, admiring her handiwork from every angle. She laughs when she catches you. “We’re not quite done yet,”

She walks away, and you can hear her rumbling with something, whatever it was, clanked and rattled. When she returned, she stood behind you — draping an expensive-looking necklace around your neck, the weight of it nearly causing your shoulders to slump.

But it was beautiful, a pure gold chain with noctilous jade and cor lapis decorating it, and even in the candle-lit room — those gems glimmered in the light.

“Wow,”

Guizhong hums, “hold still,” she holds another expensive piece of jewelry in her hands, this time a gold crested ornament.

Weaving the ornament in your hair, Guizhong adjusts it to her liking — the decoration resting proudly on your head.

“And for the finishing touches, take these,”

The goddess smiles, tying a pouch around your wrist — you turn your head. “What’s this?”

“A fragrance pouch, it contains the petals of freshly bloomed flowers, and drenched in the essence that secretes from mist flower corollas,”

Sniffing your wrist to confirm, the aroma is intense and overwhelming. Although it’s pleasant, it’s almost enough to make you gag.

“And this?” You question, holding a clear pouch in your palm — the contents of it being a thick concoction of some sort.

“A salve,” Guizhong giggles, “consists of slime extractions, herbs, and water, don’t worry Morax will know how to use it,”

You nod, deciding to not pry further on what she meant by that.

“And before you go, drink this,”

Guizhong pushes a stone cup into your hands that holds a red liquid — the substance sloshing around the rim as she gestures for you to drink it.

You don’t question it, putting your utmost faith in your goddess; there’s a bitter taste that lingers on your tongue after you swallow down the drink — you assume it’s some medicine.

“Your beauty rivals even the divine,” Guizhong says, watching as you spin in the mirror, her hands ghosting over your waist.

You’re slightly embarrassed. The garments she picked out looked expensive, exotic even — were these really tailored just for you? A lowly priestess. The colors Guizhong hand-picked for you were gorgeous, complimenting your skin beautifully. Although you had wished the clothing wasn’t so revealing, the only thing covering your more sacred areas were the little undergarments that barely hid anything.

“May I ask you something,” Guizhong places her hands on your shoulders, her touch soft against your skin.

“What is it, my lady,”

“Tell me, what do you think of Morax,”

You think for a bit, remembering the few instances you’ve shared with said man, “I think he’s nice,”

“Nice?” Guizhong laughs. It’s gentle and soft.

“He compliments my singing and praises my ability to play my guzheng,” You say, recalling the times he’s sat with you among the rocks listening to you play. “And, he tells me stories,” you hadn’t even realized that you were smiling thinking of your time together.

“I see,”

Guizhong smiles. It’s gentle and caring. She places a hand on the small of your back before leading you out of your sleeping chambers — escorting you past the central area of the shrine, down to the lower compartments that were used for temporarily harboring guests.

“My dear, I pray you never change,”

You’re confused about what she means, but you don’t dwell on it — your goddess speaks typically in riddles and rhymes, never giving you a clear answer even when you ask.

You shift your attention, your sleeves dragging across the flooring have you huffing and puffing, an amused expression dawning on Guizhong’s face.

The room she had you placed in was magnificent, even prettier than your own — the bed was more significant, and the fabrics that rested upon it varied from exotic-looking silks to other materials you don’t even recognize.

Even the ground beneath you was soft; looking down, you notice the intrinsic designs of the rug under you — you wonder what nation this was imported from.

There’s a vanity across the room, it’s enormous — with flowers placed neatly in a vase, and there’s a thin wave of smoke that dances through the air, radiating from the incense that rested next to the vase alongside a few candles.

There’s a familiar scent in the air, and you can’t quite put your finger on it, but before you can figure it out, there’s a loud clicking noise — turning around, you see that your goddess is gone, the door shut tightly behind her.

It’s almost unsettling how quiet it is. Only the sound of the incense burning keeps you company. You sit on the bed anxiously as you fiddle your thumbs in anticipation while waiting for the guest of honor to arrive.

There’s a tingling sensation in your lower regions, and you rub your thighs together to help relieve the feeling. Still, to no avail — your body feels like it’s heating up. So, finally, you pull the sleeves down so they’re slightly hanging off your shoulders.

You hadn’t even realized that the man you were waiting for had already arrived, his tail dragging behind him as he stood in the doorway. His golden eyes scanned your body — sizing you up with a carnal desire.

“M—morax,” You stutter in embarrassment as you straighten yourself out, rubbing down any creases of your robe.

You’ve never really seen this much of the lord of geo. But, of course, serving his companion’s court instead didn’t give you much time, especially considering your status. it wasn’t rare for you to see his face. Still, every time you did, it was fleeting, leaving hardly enough time to remember his beauty — but here, now, you’re able to admire his features.

He’s handsome, you think, the lighting accentuating his looks. His piercing eyes glowed a dim gold, and even his hair was beautiful, long, and smooth brown locks that transitioned to a lighter color nearing the ends with a set of horns protruding through the top of his head that curved inward.

You’re not quite sure where to look, feeling like a pervert with how hard you’re staring. Morax is clad in nothing but a white garb tied around his waist, revealing his well-sculpted body, the scars he’s received from battles — and the markings that came with being the Geo Archon.

The more you stare at his arms, the more flustered you become — brown and gold scales, with markings that decorate the bulging muscles that resided underneath and resting at his shoulders.

You allow your eyes to roam lower, staring at the golden geo sigil that rested on his lower abdomen — right below his stomach, wedged between the patches of scales that resided on either side.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been staring for so long if it wasn’t for the deep hum that left Morax’s chest.

There’s a hand on Morax’s face as he admires the choice of clothing Guizhong’s picked out for you on this occasion. You’re clad in little to nothing. The flimsy, transparent robe did nothing to cover the white undergarments underneath.

He doesn’t say a word when he stalks towards you, nor when he places a hand upon your body — trailing his limbs lower until they land on the outline of your robe, his touch is rough as he takes the thin material between his claws, before ripping it to sheds, leaving the remains scattered across the bed as he strips you down to your undergarments.

Morax grabs at your chin, forcing you to look at him, and when you stare back with your gentle, doe-like eyes, The lord of geo finds himself with the sudden urge to ruin you, to break down the pristine priestess that Guizhong had made you and rebranding you as his own.

Golden eyes stare at you with such intensity that you can’t help but feel nervous, he hasn’t said anything while he is staring into your face, and it’s beginning to make you feel self-conscious, but as soon as he pulls his hands away, a wave of relief washes over you as a soft sigh falls from your lips.

And for a moment, you feel a temporary relief as the cool air fans against your warm body.

“On your back,” The authority in Morax’s tone left no room for rebuttal. You do as you’re told and lay against the bed, propped up on some pillows.

The mattress creaks as Morax slots himself between your thighs — his long reptilian-like tongue tracing along your folds, coating them in his saliva while he teases your slit.

You shiver, the coolness against your cunt sending shocks of pleasure down your spine. You gasp as soon as you feel him dip his slimy appendage inside.

“Morax,” you moan, his tongue delving deeper inside you — rubbing against your walls deliciously. Morax hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your core.

The longer he spends between your legs, the more your body quivers and writhes underneath him, not sure where to grab — your hands land on his horns. Morax pauses for a minute, and you can feel him flinch under your touch before he resumes.

You’re curious, giving the base of his horns a squeeze to elicit another reaction. You rest your palms against the base before guiding them to the tips in a stroking manner — this time, he groans, grinding his face deeper into your cunt as both his arms wrap underneath you, forcing you closer to him as he savors your taste.

And savors, he does. Morax thinks you taste divine, better than any wine Liyue has to offer, and your moans only drive him further to continue drinking up everything you have to offer as his tail swishes side to side, hitting the ground with a thump.

Morax places his thumbs upon your womb, tracing the flesh with his sharp claws — an outline of a geo sigil forming underneath his touch, unlike his own, it’s dull, but that doesn’t stop him from rubbing over it, basking in how your skin feels soft against his own before he squeezes down into the marking causing you to whimper.

There’s a foreign sensation in your lower stomach that has your mind growing fuzzy while specks of white litter your sight — the feeling only getting worse, it’s becoming harder to focus, and the hold you have on his horns loosens.

He knows you’re close, he can tell, bringing a finger to your aching clit — he’s careful of his claws, and slowly, he rubs circles into your swollen bundle of nerves.

“M—Morax,” You cry as you close your eyes, coating his face with your slick as you cum — but he doesn’t let up, not when your cunt is producing more and more slick, some of which spills from his mouth. His tongue is still deep inside you as he laps at your core, and you can feel the tip of his appendage twisting along your walls.

It’s almost embarrassing how loud and lewd his slurping noises are, flustering you even more as the sounds increase in volume.

It’s not until he’s made you cum twice more does he pull away, a mixture of your essence and his saliva dripping from his tongue.

There’s a huge bulge between his legs, the white cloth he had wrapped around him begging to slide off his waist until finally, he discards it, revealing his cock in all its glory.

Morax’s cock was huge, and you stared at it in an odd fascination — the veins on his shaft glowing as they pulsed while the head leaked a golden essence.

I don’t think that’s going to fit, you think, slightly terrified at the idea of that monster penetrating you even with all the slick between your thighs — there’s no way.

The weight of the bed shifts drastically as Morax climbs on top of you, the mattress dipping underneath the combined weight — his body completely dwarfing your own. You’ve never felt this small a day in your life until now. He places a large hand above your head to steady himself, preventing him from crushing you with his overbearing mass.

You can feel the tip of Morax’s cock prod against you. He rubs it along your wet folds — collecting as much slickness as possible to saturate his shaft for an easy push.

As soon as Morax has decided he’s ready, the fat, mushroom tip of his cock disappears between your folds — stretching your poor hole as he forces more of himself inside.

He grunts, “relax,”

Easier said than done, you think, the stretch burns instead uncomfortably, and you’re glad he at least tried to prep you for what's to come.

“My goddess,” You choke, bracing yourself.

Morax halts, his hips coming to a still — there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stares down at your face, “The only god right now is me,” He sneers, the tips of his fangs peeking through his lips like a feral animal.

There’s something exciting about the way Morax looks at you that has the heat rising to your cheeks, igniting something inside you that you didn’t realize was there. “Yes, my god,” you correct yourself, locking eyes with the man above you. For a brief second, he can see the hint of exhilaration flickering in your orbs.

Your submissiveness pleases Morax, causing his cock to stir at the idea of you allowing him to use you as he sees fit — breeding you every day, every hour for the rest of your mortal life span.

“Good girl,” Morax praises, groaning as he finally bottoms out — it’s a tight fit, but it feels as if you were made for him. He’s almost envious of Guizhong for having found you first.

Morax hunches over, the hand above your hand gripping the sheets, and you can hear the faint sounds of them being torn. You wonder if Guizhong will scold him when she finds out.

Morax can barely contain himself as he lets you adjust to his size, it’s taking everything inside him not to aggressively slam into you — conquering your body and claiming it as his own, but he waits. Remembering the conversation Guizhong had with him before.

Do not break her, or else I will break you.

You place your hands on Morax’s biceps, allowing them to wander over the space of his chest. There’s a smile on your face as you look at him.

“I’m ready,”

Morax’s gaze holds a certain softness to it, golden orbs staring at you in affection. He nods.

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, Morax’s pace starts off slow, but his thrusts are deep — the tip of his cock hitting further with each movement as he litters kisses upon your skin that have moans escaping past your lips.

Morax thinks the noises you’re making are cute, determined to hear more — he places a hand upon your chest before sneaking it under the white fabric that concealed them. Carefully he pinches and tweaks with the hardening bud.

He moves away, grabbing at the top of your garment before tearing it off, leaving your chest exposed to the cool air — and although the sudden drop in temperature does nothing to you, your body feels like it’s burning up.

Morax watches in fascination as your chest bounces with each thrust of hips, encouraging him to go faster — the wet sound of skin slapping against skin rings throughout the room.

Morax pushes your legs to your chest, ramming into you with better precision for him to go deeper — to explore more of you.

Wrapping your arms around Morax’s broad back, holding as much as you can as his heavy cock drags along your walls, it’s getting harder to focus on anything other than the way he feels inside you — mainly when his tip grazes against your cervix, the fullness you feel is satisfying.

“More— more,” You whine. It comes out shaky, and who is Morax to deny his favorite mortal the pleasure she’s receiving from him, and only him.

Morax’s thrust becomes more fevered as he brings you closer to the edge, your walls spasming around him as you cum with a cry. His cock twitches and pulsates as he spills his seed inside you — the geo sigil on you finally coming to life and glowing a vibrant gold as he fills your womb.

And even though he just came, he’s still not done, his cock still rock-hard as he continues slamming into you, robbing you of another orgasm.

He’s determined to fill you up with all he has to offer. Even with the mixture of your juices overflowing from your hole and seeping through the sheets below, he’s not finished.

It isn’t until he’s pumped his fourth load into you does he pull away, leaving you a panting mess as thick substances of white spill from your cunt.

It isn’t enough, Morax thinks, even as you lay there, body convulsing in pleasure — he wants more. He wants all you have to offer. He flips you over so that you’re lying on your stomach, he moves your body with ease, repositioning you however he pleases, and it’s not like you’re in any state to protest.

He raises your ass, spreading your plush cheeks with his hands giving him a nice view of your drooling cunt that still leaked with cum, and your other — more exclusive hole.

Morax brings his face closer, tracing your folds with his tongue. You shudder in his embrace and feel him tease your spent hole again. Then, scooping out a mix of cum, the man brings it to your asshole, spitting it out and watching as it delves down the curve of your ass.

You screech, feeling the sudden intrusion in your ass. Morax’s lips pressed against your hole as his tongue dives deeper inside you — loosening up as much as possible for what’s to come next.

But before he continues, he’s reminded of the salve Guizhong had given you that lay discarded on the edge of the bed. You feel him shift above you as he reaches over your body — his arms grabbing at the clear pouch.

There’s a ripping noise that rings in your ears as Morax empties the contents of the pouch into the crack of your ass — you cringe, the thick, slimy mixture feeling cold upon your skin as it travels down the between the crevice of your cheeks, a generous amount coating even your hole.

Your grip on the sheets beneath you tighten, scrunching the silk fabric under your palms — your breathing becomes heavy as you feel the tip of Morax’s cock nudge against your ass as he mounts you.

He spreads your cheeks, guiding his length to your tighter hole before he pushes in — stretch burns at first as his cock forces its way inside, and thanks to the salve, it’s not unbearable.

“Morax,” You cry weakly as you feel him push himself in, completely sheathing himself in your warmth, his heavy balls resting against you.

There’s snot dripping down your nose, and you’re glad he can’t see your face at the moment — you’re sure you look terrible.

“M—move, please,”

Morax is gentler this time, gritting his teeth as he thrusts into you. The hold he has on your hips is less than bruising.

He nearly doubles over, feeling your hole squeeze around him.

“F—fuck,” You cry at the fullness, his cock dragging incredibly slow along your insides — you slam your hips back against his. “Harder, please,”

Morax raises a brow, and here he thought you were but an innocent maiden — being deflowered by a monster. It’s amusing, to say the least.

Morax’s balls slap against your ass with pap noise as he picks up his speed — your moans increase in volume as he builds momentum.

“You feel so good,” You whine, specks of white clouding your vision as your mind becomes hazy. Your orgasm washes over you like a wave, and your body feels like it’s becoming weaker as you fall into the mattress.

Morax wraps his arms around you, supporting your body as he continues fucking you — chasing his own end.

There’s a familiar warmth spreading through your body as he cums, thick globs of white dripping from your ass.

You’re tired, nearly passing out on the pillows until Morax flips you over again. This time you’re on your back as he hovers over your body, knees folded underneath him.

“Do you think we’re done?” He asks, his cock still hard. He aligns it with your mouth, pressing the tip into the softness of your lips. “Open,”

There’s a pause before you do as you’re told, your eyes scanning up and down his length that’s still fully hard. Is this the will of the gods?

You part your lips around his cock, his weight feeling heavy in your mouth.

Slowly, you run your tongue across his shaft — tracing every vein that roams across his cock with your muscle.

You can feel the veins throb underneath your tongue. Morax places a hand on the back of your head, forcing you to take more of him.

Morax looks down at you, sweat dripping from his body as he watches you bob your head up and down his cock, “Just like that, he praises,”

Your jaw feels like it’s on fire as it aches, and you’re not quite sure how much longer you can take this, but you’re determined to please your god.

Your prayers have been answered, and it’s not long before you feel him throb inside your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat — he pulls away.

“Swallow,”

You obey, opening your mouth to show that you’ve swallowed all of him, leaving nothing left in your mouth, and you can still taste him on your tongue — salty but not disgusting.

Morax places a palm on your cheek, stroking it gently, “you’ve done so well, but the night is still young. We won’t stop until my seed seeps from every orifice you own,”

And knowing him, it was a promise. By the end of the night, your body will only know Morax. He’s determined to mold your walls in the shape of his cock, to ruin you for anyone else, no matter how many times you reincarnate — you’ll always yearn for him.

It was no surprise that Morax had taken you as a lover when he came to Guizhong asking for your hand in marriage — only shocking a few of her priestesses at the sudden intrusion. Their gasps and whispers could be heard amongst themselves.

And, of course, Guizhong was more than happy to comply with his wishes, wedding you off without a second thought.

But alas, that moment of bliss wasn’t destined to last forever, especially in the era of war.

It wasn’t long before Morax had lost Guizhong in the aftermath, returning to dust in the plains of Guili. And although losing her hurt, it was a heavier loss when your mortality had finally claimed you, reminding him that human life is feeble.

It saddened him to no end that you weren’t around to see the progress of Liyue after Mt. Aoyang. However, Morax wanted nothing more than to walk with you upon the grounds now called the harbor.

Centuries have passed by now, and Morax is no more than a distant memory, recorded in history alongside most of his conquests for all of time to keep. And even though his previous incarnations are no more, Zhongli still harbors the feelings of each and every life, treasuring them fondly — their memories continue to shine like gold.

And as he sits in the harbor at his favorite restaurant, there’s not a day where he doesn’t think back to you, and the time he shared with you — even if they felt like mere minutes to him.

“and what happened to Morax after the death of his lover,” Paimon asks, both the traveler and her staring at him expectantly as they awaited his answer.

Zhongli clears his throat, “After the heavy loss of his lover, he grew fearful of being alone after being taught by the human woman how to love and be loved. He took on many lovers over the years after, and yet none of them could fill the void left in his chest.”

“Did he love them,” Paimon places a finger on her chin as she ponders out loud.

“Of course he did. He loved all of them for as long as time had allowed it,” Zhongli muses, although there’s a hint of melancholy in his tone.

Aether gives him an unapologetic look as he thinks back to his twin and how he was separated from her before entering Teyvat.

“Wow, Morax must’ve really been popular among the—“Before Paimon can finish her sentence, Aether quickly covers the smaller being's mouth with his palm. “Paimon, there’s a time and place for everything, but now is not the time,” He sighs, feeling the flying girl protest against him as she angrily flails her tiny limbs.

Zhongli smiles fondly, unfazed by Paimon’s annoyance. The food in front of them had long gone cold as he shared the story of Morax’s greatest treasure.

Paimon flails in Aether’s hold before stopping, her attention focused on the gasps and gossiping going on around her from the other customers in the restaurant.

“What’s the Tianquan doing walking so freely in the harbor,” One mumbled. They all look in awe as she walks past the establishment in broad daylight without any millelith guards behind her.

“Lady Ningguang,” You whine, following after her, your clipboard shaking in your grasp as you pant. For someone wearing heels and a heavy dress, you’re surprised she can walk so fast.

At the sound of a familiar voice, Zhongli’s ears perk up as he turns his attention towards you — his eyes widening before returning to their average size. His sudden silence shocks Aether and Paimon. Aether and both of them don’t say anything, opting to follow Zhongli’s gaze before they land on you.

Ningguang ignores you, continuing on her merry way toward the docks hoping to see the freshest stock of fish that’s arrived.

“But what about Qingce Village?!” You huff loud enough for Ningguang to hear you, although she doesn’t stop.

“I’ll have the yuheng deal with it. Keqing’s always looking for something to do,” Ningguang says as she waves you off, continuing on her way.

“And what about all your paperwork?”

“Ganyu can handle it,” Ningguang answers, all too calmly, for a woman who controls the fate of Liyue.

You groan in frustration throwing your clipboard on the ground. So bothersome, you grumble.

When Aether and Paimon shift their attention back to Zhongli, they both jump, realizing his absence.

“Where’d he go?” Paimon says, looking everywhere, from underneath his seat to underneath the table.

“Over there,” Aether points, and sure enough, there he was, striking up a conversation with you.

“Do they know each other,” Paimon asks, placing a finger on her chin. Aether shrugs in response, “not quite sure, but something tells me she might be an old friend of his,”

“Excuse me, you seem to have dropped something,” There’s a tall man before you, he’s handsome, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve seen him before.

“Do I know you?” You ask in confusion, the man in front of you staring intently — although it wasn’t you, he was focused on. There’s a glint of disdain in his eyes as he looks upon the light-colored anemo vision that dangles from your waist.

“Ah, my apologies, my name is Zhongli,” Zhongli smiles, handing you back your clipboard.

“You know,” You start, eyeing him up and down before taking your belongings. “I feel like I’ve met you before,”

“Hm, is that so?”

“Yeah, something about you feels familiar,”

“Although, I don’t recall meeting you before,” Zhongli lies, “I’d like to get the chance to,”

“O—oh,” There’s a heat rising to your face, and your heart pounds against your chest — the man’s charm flustering you. “I— I think I’d like that too,”

There’s a smile on Zhongli’s face as he places a hand on your back, leading you through the harbor — you don’t resist, allowing him to guide you wherever listening to him talk mindlessly about the weather.

Aether and Paimon look at each other in confusion, the blow shaking his head.

“Did we just get ditched,” Paimon asks, tilting her head to the side as she rubs her chin.

Aether nods, “and with the bill, too,” he sighs, picking up the piece of paper before reading it — his face pales, and golden eyes widen in horror as he reads aloud the total.

#morax smut #morax x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin morax #zhongli x reader #Zhongli smut #Zhongli x reader smut #morax x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut

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rhas-writes · 2 years

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Zhongli Had to Start Somewhere - Morax x Reader

A continuation of my Ex-archon Reader! thoughts, but is very readable as a standalone. Uses you/your, so no pronouns.

Spoilers! for Zhongli's backstory. Keep in mind, I built off the canon so not all the information is true.

Content? Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst.

- - -

Ripe in his youth, Morax cannot see the appeal of companionship. A relationship established without contracts? He scoffs at the thought. The only connections worth creating were those with benefits. And you - a god much older, much wiser, much more powerful than he - is such a connection.

Your insistence to call him a friend wears on his rigid view of life as the decades roll past. Annoyingly enough, you too catch the moment his amber eyes shimmer at the plan to sip tea with the other adepti and gods. It's embarrassing to say the least, the great Lord of Geo made to eat his own words like a starved man. You don't tease him though, not in the moment anyways, you simply send him a knowing smile. You're gracious like that.

Morax thinks he's grown too soft as you and Guizhong braid glaze lilies into his long dark brown hair. But when the childish giggles float on the breezes of Mt. Hulao, he isn't upset at the revelation.

When the first seeds of love root in his chest, Morax blames you. You and your fondness for all beings is the only explanation for him feeling such human emotions.

Humans. Fragile, weak, in need of protection. Morax thinks lowly of the sentient creatures roaming Teyvat. But once again, you shove such words right back into his mouth. You show him the intelligence, the passion, the ambition of humanity. You wipe away his ignorance and replace it with respect, one that recognizes the worth of lower beings.

Morax wonders why he entertains your mundane activities, but he already knows the answer, he just ignores it. It's the little things, you answer when he mutters the question under his breath, which makes absolutely no sense.

Right now, he's supposed to be watching the sky paint itself lavender and pink to mark the beginning of a new day but he finds you to be a better view. Art, he's familiar with the creative outlet, - after all, it is a hobby of yours - familiar enough to know no being could ever create something as stunning as you.

The Archon War begins with hesitance that easily crumbles into an unquenchable thirst for power. It is only you and Guizhong keeping him from succumbing to such desire. Morax focuses on protecting his shared people with the God of Dust, fulfilling his end of an unspoken contract. There are pangs of guilt and grief when some inevitably die and he remembers why he built his walls so high.

Longing is not a feeling he is accustomed to but is forced to face it when the War keeps him from you. Unlike him, you have no people, no land. Your battles are all throughout Teyvat, fighting for those unfairly caught up in the wrath of gods. It's admirable, really, but Morax is selfish and he wants you at his side.

Even the strongest stone will crumble when hit properly, Morax knows this. He knows, yet he carves tunnels beneath blood soaked soil to see you. He is spent and exhausted after felling other gods but it's inconsequential when your light illuminates the tight space he's made.

His perseverance is further rewarded when you press a jewel tasseled earring into his palm right before you part. And there's that knowing smile plastered on your face as you turn away, the other half of the jewelry swinging with your hair. These moments may be small, mundane even, but they warm his heart in a way no flame can.

Irony is cruel, coming at the worst of times as Morax watches his dear friend turn to dust. He loses himself in a rampage that lays waste to once fruitful land. The night comes and he sits in crimson - loathing his younger self, the one so far removed from others, he cared not of their lives.

He knows it's your hand on his shoulder bringing him out of spiraling thoughts because who else dares touch a god bathed in the blood of his enemies? You speak to him softly, tenderly holding him, treating him like he's fragile.

"I will not lie and tell you this pain leaves with time. Instead, I will remind you how change is inevitable. It will come on a whim and do as it pleases, but it comes nonetheless."

Morax earns the name Rex Lapis as he establishes Liyue Harbor, a new home for his people. One that will stand until time itself erodes away the city. Oh, how far he's come...

Pride swells in his chest when you take your divine seat. The Archon War has come to an end and he can finally claim you as his. Just the thought gets him giddy, he's not ignorant to the favor you easily garner from others.

Morax's face rivals that of a silk flower bush when you reject his marriage contract. Embarrassed and confused he stands frozen with his mouth ajar. You don't want any contract? You want the love you share to be what binds the two of you? He thinks it's naive, silly, dare he say childish. But his opposition is short-lived because he loves you. If he must live millennium after millennium witnessing the joys and tragedies of life, then he will do it with you.

All of Celestia quakes as the archon meeting reaches its peak. The reason for the empty seat now speaks volumes. Runic lines glow against black to pale skin. If looks could kill, the heavens would have fallen. But there's a smugness in the ones giving such awful orders. A smugness that reminds Morax and the six other archons that they are not as powerful as they think.

For once, the great God of Contracts finds himself on the losing end of a deal. The Osmanthus wine, your favorite, in his hand is heavier than he remembers. He ascends the stairs to your abode, reaching the threshold he stills. His amber eyes draw over the small nation you preside over. A transparent golden dome protects it for all the times you are elsewhere in Teyvat, will it remain without you?

Dinner with your friends and lover, a tradition you have all of them partake in on the turn of a new decade. Everyone is smiling, laughing, the weight of being an archon lifted off their shoulders for a night. Well...that's how it normally is. This evening is different as the pressure to fulfill their duty has never been so heavy on seven of the eight attendees.

The effects of the dark liquid effortlessly poured into your glass by your husband is quick. One moment you're elegantly seated at the round table and the next you're haphazardly stumbling around the room.

Morax forces himself to watch the variety of imbued weapons sink into the skin he pressed adoring kisses to every night. He fights every instinct to look away when he meets your unreadable gaze. He lets your beloved familiar spread its wings across your chest in a useless attempt to save you. He does all this because it's the least he could do.

Atop Mt. Tianheng, Liyue's archon looks over the city he's protected for over a millennium. Your work is done for the day, a phrase he heard in passing, now replaying in his head. The sea breeze causes a small tassel to tickle the left side of his neck. Change comes nonetheless, the voice he longs but does not deserve to hear reminds him. His decision becomes clear. You always believed in humanity's capabilities, so he shall give them a chance to prove themselves. Prove that change has indeed come.

- - -

Published: 11 May 2022

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livingalifeofasimp · 3 years

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Hello! If it isn't too much, may I ask for a yan Zhongli x Reader, in which the Reader is the reincarnation, with bits of memories and personality, of Guizhong.. essentially Guizhong reborn.

Warning : This content contains Yandere themes, if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it, arts belong to it's respective owner only the content is mine.

I am still alive (~‾▿‾)~

Tagging : @blueskywater-happiness

🎕 Yandere Zhongli X Reader 🎕

✥Zhongli holded Memory of dust in his hands, the stone dumbbell which contained her wisdom, and was challenged by her to unlock it. He still remember her, years passed away but the pain and memories of her still resided in his heart. Till this day he was not able to open it no matter how hard he tries, calm, kind hearted, the person he is today was made by her.

"Guizhong look at all the people here living their life the way you wanted them to be, I hope you are happy wherever you are".

Guizhong is the late Goddness of Dust, she was Morax's ally and best friend, she lost her life during Archon war with Zhongli by her side, death of a best friend, the only one close to him caused him misery even tho he is deprived of understanding emotions better, through life goes on and you learn to live without them.

✥Zhongli slipped tea through a decorated cup while waiting for a foreigner, Childe who was going to make him meet a stranger who wanted to set up a business dinner as per Liyue custom.

A sudden knock made Zhongli look up towards the sound "Yahooo Zhongli", just after Childe you walked in, you looked like someone he knew, your hair, your smile, your eyes glittering and the aura you had was quite familiar to him.

"I am Y/N thank you for giving us your time"

"Our Zhongli is such a nice sir - " Childe saw Zhongli staring at your face causing him to smirk "I know this lady is quite really pretty, I hope -" Embarrassed Zhongli intruped Childe "Let's get down with business".

✥Even you didn't knew anything about Zhongli, you still felt like you knew him from somewhere maybe you both must have crossed your paths, at the end you said what you wanted too.

"I feel like I have seen you from somewhere",

Zhongli was surprised, his eyes widen it couldn't be true right? People who go away didn't come back right? His mind must be playing game, it sure has to be it. He has seen people go and new ones coming all the people he had are replaced by new ones, not replaced exactly but it do not make any difference, no one can take their places, he don't want to be caughted in such misery but the cycle repeats itself.

"Certainly I hope so",

His calm and welcoming response made you smile, you hoped too it felt warm, it made you smile.

✥Undefined force made Zhongli meet you again and again, was it all just a coincidence or a fate leading, you would always invited him for lunch, dinner or even just for a walk, no matter how much Zhongli wanted to run away from the warmth you gave off, because one day you will be gone too just like others so there was no meaning to get close to you. You looked just like her, not the same but it still felt like you were traces of her, from which he desperately wanted to run away.

✥"Sir Zhongli, are you going somewhere?", You have seen him after such a long time maybe after one or two weeks, at some point you made Zhongli want to look out and search for you, no matter how much he pushes you away, he still find himself surrounded by your presence which make him loose control and hug you, urge you to hug him back comfort him, saying you won't go. Zhongli stopped his mind which was racing from such thoughts and invited you for star gazing.

"Miss L/N if you are free let's go to star gazing I am sure you must have seen such things but-"

"I don't mind let's go, I have been so tired of my work", you were so happy to finally make him open up to you besides its good to take breaks every now and then.

✥"Miss please take care of yourself, it would be bad if you got hurt, I hope you are taking 3 meals a day, please drink enough water and if you ever feel troubled by something don't give it any second thought just come to me I will be more than happy to help you", Zhongli looked at your shocked face, he must have lectured you enough, just when he was going to apologize for it, you burst out giggling, it felt good to have someone to worry for you, your smile made Zhongli's cheek turned red, it was so peaceful, your laughs were like her just a bit more melodic and sweet.

✥"Yes I will take care of myself, you too take care of yourself", Zhongli fake coughed and went ahead of you so that you couldn't see his face smiling like a child that hided with his one hand. "I appreciate your concern, let's meet tonight", he walked away leaving a confused you behind.

Just like a true gentleman Zhongli waited for you, only to see you looking all very pretty and perfect, infamous smile decorated his face, you grin in response before giving your hands in his.

✥"It's pretty isn't it", you looked towards the sky, stars hanging in them, small or big it looked like sparking dust, which was a very pleasing sight.

"It is", there is nothing new, Zhongli is almost tried of the same view yet it felt good to have someone by his side, for those moments he did not feel lonely.

"We humans are so fragile like a dust in this universe which is so big, when I look up, it feels like things can disappear just another second",

Zhongli flinched, as he slowly turned to look at your face, a delicate face that was looking at the stars curiously, your form shining under moonlight, you, are you really Guizhong, his hands extended to touch you, or are you just a illusion, your eyes founded it's way back to Zhongli beautiful face who flinched again at your sudden movement.

"Did I say something weird don't mind me", you laughed to lighten the atmosphere.

✥After that Zhongli's attention and focus wholeheartedly shifted towards you, he couldn't help but compare Guizhong and her reincarnation, you are a bit more carefree, cheerful and not as knowledgeable as her, he didn't blame you for it, you are just as cute as a child. No matter how hard he tried to push you away, everytime you would comeback, since you so persistent, he lost. Your liveliness made him fall for you, deep and hard to the point of no return, since you embraced him, he will hold you back just as tight to know that you are there and not disappearing at least for now.

✥Zhongli looks forward to meeting you more than he did before, fusses over a small wound more than your grandmother would. You get confused when Zhongli stares at your face quite long before apologizing, you certainly notice how attentive he has became. He smiles ever so brightly when you comes in his view, but you always fail to notice how he deadly glares at all the people and things that do not even breathe when you give them more attention than you give to him.

✥Zhongli grows to be more possessive and strict yet very loving towards you. His yandere tendency triggers when he saw you injured after coming back from the given mission, Zhongli dropped whatever he was doing and ran towards you, you got hurt his heart dropped, he didn't wanted you to disappear or get a single scratch, not when you give him such a warm and fussy feeling, he felt like a teenager in love but instead he was a obsessive God in love with you.

✥This whole incident will lead Zhongli to appeal for you to stay with him till you get well again or so you thought, he took care of everything you needed even when you don't needed them, he would feed you and do your hair, buy you everything that you desired but going out was prohibited, was it a price to pay for luxury?.

✥His paranoia will take over his mind if you said you would like to go to your own house, he does understand how homesick you must be feeling but he would feel the same if you left and it will be terrible because if you tried to escape from him or state that you hate him, his heart will break into millions pieces and might go back to how he was like before and it will be destructive to both you and all the other people, and you might be able to accept his yandere side since you have some memories and most importantly you pity him, so after throwing traumas for a week, in his eyes he thought you were afraid of being trapped in a room, slowly you realized how lonely he has been all these years without you.

✥Zhongli immediately melts when you willing touch him and comfortable him, won't it be better to heal his heart which leaks of sadness and fear of losing you, the person who is dearly valuable to him, he would clingy to you like his life depends on it or maybe it really does.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

#yandere story #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #tumblr #tumblrfeed #genshin impact zhongli #yandere Zhongli #yandere Zhongli x reader #female reader

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imalwaystiredzzz · 3 years

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C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow.

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve.

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands.

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.”

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out.

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on.

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.”

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.”

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom.

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years.

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends.

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him.

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart?

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

#yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #geshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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scentedcandlesandcookies · 3 years

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So I was inspired by @mrpenguinpants (go check out their work I'm referring to below this paragraph) and wanted to do another genshin fic. The interactions here can be anything you want it to mean (besides qiqi ofc). Also this is very self indulgent.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Self hatred, self loathing, blood, depressing thoughts ig(?), momentary oblivion of you squint.

Also I'm on mobile so I'm so sorry for not being able to add a read more option!

Somehow you knew without knowing. You said things without needing to say it. A vessel of purity and wholeness. You had so much to give.

But how much was too much?

Qiqi called yours name on a rather sunny day. You were just about to head to Bubu Pharmacy when she ran up to them.

"Could you help me pick herbs? We always go together."

You knew what she meant in ways she couldn't convey. You were special to her, to everyone. You weren't aware of it though.

Knowing the worth of others was easier than knowing the worth of yourself.

"Of course, Qiqi, I'll always have time for you."

Qiqi loved your smile. It felt familiar. Qiqi saw you as an older sibling. She loved you in ways she couldn't express.

"I'm only good to be your ladder though! You know I'm not good with naming herbs!"

On a cooler day, Zhongli called you to have some tea with him. The both of you sat at a teashop watching the harbor through the open window.

The gentle breeze touched all uncovered parts of your skin. The smell of the sea dancing underneath your nose. The sunset painting a melancholic picture.

"The ocean looks sad today."

Zhongli looked at you rather confusedly. After promptly sipping his tea he responded.

"How can an ocean look sad? Something so old shouldn't be humanized."

The last sentence was more for himself than anything. You didn't know, but he sometimes loathed himself for all he'd done. He wondered if all the blood spilt was worth it.

You reminded him of Guizhong, so ready to see things in a new light without judgement. He often hears you sing to glaze lilies around Qingce.

"How could we forget what all the ancients did for us?"

A day after some much needed rain, you spotted Ganyu. Busy as ever, she was handling the unending work she often received. You decided to help out.

"Good morning, Ganyu. You seem to be someone who'd appreciate and extra pair of hands."

The joking atmosphere seemed to help lift the weight more than your hands. Ganyu giggled a bit.

"Some help would be much appreciated."

The rest of the day didn't feel like work. Ganyu felt the days of her childhood rushing back to her. Days without worry or work. Everything felt warmer, the sun began peeking its head out of the clouds.

"I'll do my best."

You visited Hu Tao on a gloomy day. The clouds were gray and it looked as if it was about to rain. You entered the doors of the funeral parlor with the permission of the ferrylady.

Unfortunately, Hu Tao wasn't feeling very Hu Tao that day. Walking into her office, she seemed lost in thought.

"Hu Tao?"

The gift of candies laud forgotten on the desk. You moved to place a hand on her shoulder. A gesture of your listening presence.

"They're just pranks, and I'm just trying to get business. Like everyone else, its just...different."

Pulling her in for a hug, just being a strong unbreakable pillar for her sake.

"They don't see all the things you do behind the scenes. That makes them immature, not you. I don't think they know why you do the things you do, and you know what? That's okay. You know what you're doing, and that's the best thing you could do. You're doing so well."

Liyue knew you so so well. An unbreakable pillar. A foundation that so many people needed.

What would happen if you ever crumbled? Well, that could never happen.

You visited Xiao on a rainy day. No heavy downpour, just a normal pitter-patter kind of rain.

You held a new dish in your hands, thinking that Xiao should try a new dish. Not to 'be more human' but to just try a different taste of life.

"Why are you still coming here? Its a long way from the harbor."

You simply smiled at the ground and put down the dish. Too afraid to sit on the railing, you opted for the floor.

"Being lonely isn't fun."

"As I thought, you're still so blind. Loneliness is my only company."

You laughed for a moment.

"Guess I should change my name to loneliness then."

You dared not to look at the mighty yaksha. You were just a pathetic human after all. Letting the dish sit in your lap, you outstretched your arms behind you.

"And you can't go around telling people they're blind! We all see things differently. You might think you need to spend eternity in loneliness, but we all crave to be loved or appreciated. Xiao, you're stuck with me."

You closed your eyes and turned towards Xiao, giving him a smile.

You felt the dish being taken from your lap and heard him sit next to you.

He began eating the warm soup.

Today was a bad day to go out. Heavy rain and a dark atmosphere. But you had commissions knocking against your income. You were preoccupied with something else though.

Everyone's busy. I really need some help but everyone's busy and I don't want to bother them.

You admired Qiqi for braving through her life as best as she could.

You admired Zhongli for his wise and comforting views on life.

You admired Ganyu's persistence in her work, but most importantly in herself.

You admired Hu Tao for being herself even when others shamed her for it.

You admired Xiao for living through such mundane life, day after day.

You wanted to be just like them, but you just couldn't do it on some days.

You wanted to hide. You wanted to bitch about your day. You wanted to give up. You wanted to hide yourself to avoid judgement. You wanted something different. Someone different.

Someone who wasn't you.

You never looked as good as everyone else. Your voice never sounded right. Your never seemed to be mentionable or noteworthy. And on some days you were okay with that.

Am I really going to be another grain of salt?

You trudged through the thick mud, ignoring the blisters on your feet. The rain seemed to taunt you as it settled in your clothes, your bones.

All you could taste was steel. You couldn't remember the last meal you ate. You felt so tired. You wanted to just stop everything.

But how could you? How could you when everyone else went on? It was just one last commission. They all have so much on their plate, you couldn't burden them anymore.

But your lungs burnt, you couldn't feel your fingers on your right hand. Where was your weapon? When did you lose your bag?

Why were your eyes so blurry? Everything sounded so loud. You just wanted to sleep. You were tired. You were trying so hard.

Why was it so fucking hard?

Why couldn't you do it? Why were you always so unsure? Why didn't you work as well as the others? Your feet moved by themselves. They weren't going fast enough. Your body wasn't good enough.

You're not enough.

You think you're at your destination. You don't know. Everything feels so unclear. Everything feels wrong.

Then there was warmth on your back. It was so warm, so comforting. It finally lulled you to sleep.

The millileth pulled the mitachurl's firey axe from the back of your corpse.

You were confused when you woke up. A girl with brown hair and a hat was frantically calling someone. You were in a lobby of sorts. There were others talking about people who left. They didn't look like people. They were see through.

See through just like you.

"Aiya! Why aren't you listening to me you idiot! You scared us! What happened?"

The girl seemed to be the only normal person here. Suddenly you felt like you've been ripped from that foggy place.

People were calling the same person's name again. Over and over. You were just trying to continue sleeping when you were violently shaken.

"Hey! Whats your problem!"

You shook the person off of you. A young man with a green tattoo and dark hair. A taller man with amber eyes and brown hair. A woman with horns and silky looking blue hair. That girl from before who wore the hat. A small girl with light purple hair and had a talisman on her hat.

"You're alive! Thank the archons! We were so worried when we heard the news! " The lady with the horns looked as if she was about to cry. You felt bad but the tension was awkward.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

Ty for reading! Leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed it! I hope some of yall picked up the hidden meanings hehehe~

Part two here:

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songzhong · 2 years

Text

AZHDAHA, SOVEREIGN OF GEO. GUIZHONG, PRIMORDIAL SHADE. LIYUE’S “TATARIGAMI”.

( Headcanon until debunked ! ) Backstory following the Enkonomiya lore reveals. I’m a mess trying to make up the lore with friends so if anything I say here contradicts any information it’s very probably an oversight I welcome feedback ! O)-(

As it is headcanon, I will never push interpretations on any direct muse involved in this interpretation of events, such as Azhdaha or Guizhong roleplayer.

At the beginning of times, dragons emerged from the very elements, immense predators with absolute power all creatures would cower at the very sight. Those dragons will be come to known as the Seven Sovereigns. And their reign was absolute. Amongst them, the Dragon of Water and, most of all, the Dragon of Geo. Retuo. Azhdaha.

As the Primordial One descended upon Teyvat, it shed its four shades to help him guide the humanity he had fought for and cherished, for whom he created heavens and earth. Amongst them, Istaroth would held dominion over wind and time.

And, amongst the glaze lilies, the shade of Dust and Wisdom would meet a qilin. A stern and powerful warrior who only knew the harsh ways of his kin and ruled over mountains. She approached him with no ill intentions, and the qilin listened to her. She spoke of her people and their will to live, their fragility and the beauty in them, similarly to how the qilin would silently cherish those glaze lilies, which bloomed to the shade’s soft voice.

"...In the beginning, when the people assembled to farm the land... A god named Guizhong descended, whose dominion was over Dust, and whose reach shrouded the skies for thousands of miles around..." ―Soraya, Treasure Lost Treasure Found

This qilin’s named was Zhongli. She presented him a dumbbell, as a sign of good will.

"Those little people are as small and fragile as dust." "Because they are so small, they know not when they will lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they are afraid." "Because they are afraid, they try so hard to become more intelligent. This I understand." "So I thought that since there is such a gulf between us in strength, I should use technique and wisdom instead." "With your brawn and my brains, this city would surely become a great one."

"This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you." ―Guizhong, Memory of Dust

1. "To unite in ambition is to be steadfast and immovable for all time." 2. "Wisdom is like water, it nourishes all those who receive it and in it is a reflection of the truth."' 3. "Fortify the bones, that movement be supple when the time comes." 4. "Virtue grows tall like a tree, though there be shade it will flourish forever" ―Jade Plates, Treasure Lost Treasure Found

Those would be the commandments of the Guili Assembly, under Guizhong, the God of Dust, and Morax, the God of Contracts.

An enormous dragon as ancient as the mountains themselves. In an age that has all but faded from memory, he stood shoulder to shoulder with one who ruled over a harbor of stone. ―Archive, Azhdaha

Retuo, in all his knowledge ( ज्ञता ), wished to avoid any more violence for both his vishap kind, all other illuminated beasts and humanity. And so, Morax bestowed Retuo with parts of his power so he could see the world humanity cherished. They would ally against any threat to their home. Amongst those threats, Osial would be against compromises with humanity, which forced Morax’s hand.

...Rex Lapis overcame the Chi, but the Chi could not perish in its entirety. Thus did Rex Lapis conquer each of its facets in turn: its spirit was bound in the north, its bones were pinned in the south-east, its flesh was incarcerated in the north-west, its soul was fettered in the north-east, and its form was crushed in the south-west... ―Incomplete Writing at Qingce Village

Retuo leading the vishaps, Morax the illuminated beasts and Guizhong humanity... but the Primordial One would have it another way.

For to keep their dominion intact, the Primordial One’s heavenly principles would dawn on the world an its immortal beings Erosion, for them to slowly lose memories prior to the Primordial One’s reign... and this meant having the Seven Sovereigns defeated. None of them could walk the earth, a living reminder of times the Primordial One could not allow to survive.

As he watched his friend’s very being crumble, Morax did all he could for his companion to retain his sense of self, carving, using the same power he used to bestow sight, so he would not crumble apart as the fate of other Sovereigns, such as the Dragon of Water, was a cruel one.

Seeing as he may lose himself completely if all attempts would not work, Retuo and Morax made a contract : if the Lord of Vishaps would lose his sense of self and become a threat to all they fought for, Morax would have to end him.

The Primordial One had not gone unnoticed of Guizhong’s betrayal as she fought against Retuo’s fate and thus its Heavenly Principles. And so as they realized she was to reveal their weaknesses, they had her struck down.

"...and there they fought upon the Guili Plains, where black dust choked the heavens and a thousand rocks splintered..."

The black dust was so it devastated the lands, annihilating the fields of glaze lilies, turning people mad and poisoning the land. Amongst others, the God of Salt Havria was one of the casualties, killed by her very own people as they were driven to madness.

This would not be the first time such phenomenon and execution would occur ; in Inazuma, Orobashi was also struck down, leaving the black mist known as the Tatarigami.

However, the God of Stoves Marchosius sacrificed himself so the land would not remain poisoned. His friends could only watch as he weakened, to the point where he could not even speak nor comprehend them anymore...

To fight the rest of the black dust and the evils it spawned, Rex Lapis gathered the original Yakshas to protect Liyue. However, they too would become affected by what they would call, in place of the Tatarigami curse, Karmic Debt.

This place attracts monsters corrupted by sinister energy. According to Xiao, their mutation might be connected to his karmic debt... ―Karma-Heavy Cavern, Guili Plains

However, unbeknownst to the Primordial One, Guizhong had left Morax the very knowledge she had been struck down for long ago.

"All my wisdom is hidden within this stone dumbbell." "If you can unlock it—" ―Guizhong, Memory of Dust

―you will have what it takes to change the world yet again. Were the last words Guizhong would have said before her body crumbled at the hand of Morax himself, as was planned so he could keep the Primordial One’s trust and protect the people of Liyue. Because it always had been for them. For the shade loved humanity as much as her creator, and her Wisdom told her that, no matter how much she and the Primordial One cherished those people and this world, the day may come where change may be inevitable.

At the end of the war, Rex Lapis would be given one of the seven divine seat.

Later on, Retuo’s mind eroded, making him forget about Morax’s face and their alliance to protect Liyue. All he could see was his Sovereign kingdom being trampled upon and destroyed by invaders.

>Do you mean Rex Lapis? Hah... That usurper? Humans... They care only about history since the dawn of the age of mankind... Are people really happy to just draw a line under the litany of atrocities humanity's ancestors are responsible for, call it "ye olde worlde," and just get on with their merry little lives? Well, I hope that anyone who willfully indulges in this fantasy world of false prosperity will be consumed by it, and thus get what they deserve. ―Jiu, NPC dialogue at the Dragon-Queller

It was only because of the remaining of Retuo’s consciousness being willing that Morax was able to seal him away, unable to himself bring down the friend he had fought so hard to retaining the original Lord of Geo’s form so he could, maybe, someday, like it was written about The Dragon of Water...

But now that the Bathysmal Vishaps have evolved in this manner, they have lost their purity. As such, the Dragon of Water will no longer be born from among their ranks. Prophecy holds that the new Dragon of Water will definitely descend in the form of a human. ―Archive, Bolteater Bathysmal Vishap Hatchling

“If it is fated, Morax... we will meet again.” ―Azhdaha, No Mere Stone

However, despite the Primordial One’s desperate, drastic attempts, remains of the times prior to its dominion remain, just like the dumbbell.

As the new Cryo Archon becomes affected by the truth of this world and the Love she harbored for her people turned to Grief. And so, the Tsaritsa contacts the Geo Archon as part of her plan to burn the old world. It is then that Rex Lapis will sign a contract with her, one which is set in motion when she sends one of her hand-picked Harbinger to be guided through Liyue by a consultant to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

But no any of her Harbingers.

After all... “You shall ever be the eye of the storm, “And the clashing of steel shall ever accompany you. “The pitch-black memory of stepping into uttermost darkness, “Shall, at last, become the strength by which you will overturn this world.” ―Archive, Childe

#.songzhong ( headcanon )#watch this not age well #PUTS ON MY TINFOIL HAT #very long post tw #I've been hitting my head against the timeline and even then I'm sure there's some shit I don't see that's wrong O)-(

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moon-goddess-posts · 3 years

Text

Cherry Blossoms in Winter

Zhongli x gn!reader

Hurt/comfort, mentions of death, light angst, immortal reader, reader is based off my oc because I said so, reader is a grim reaper, slow burn

I usually tend to avoid reading angst cause I can't handle it but I wanted to try writing it for the first time, not too angsty but just enough :] also writing in 3rd person this time, I tend to avoid it cause ill be forced to use "y/n" and I'm not a big fan of that 😭

Prologue

Even during the harshest of winters, when the most vibrant shades of red stick out from the pure snow, and tears spill out on to rosy red cheeks of a death that will never be forgotten, that will forever shine like gold in his memories; Love and beauty shall still find its way through, like the last cherry blossom that still kept its flowers during winter. Or an immortal soul that was destined to befriend the now former geo archon that is Zhongli. The tale of a grim reaper who was responsible for Zhonglis former love for passing on to the after life, and an archon that has retired his name. Listen closely as I tell you this story, for it is surely to be a beautiful one indeed.

"Every living being has its end someday, you know turning back the clock will not work dear Rex Lapis. For death and life are both inevitable." Y/n had said when Zhongli begged them for Guizhong to come back and live again. He was so close to saving her, he witnessed her blood on the blinding snow. Even if there was something y/n could do, it would result in the same scenario that even an immortal archon would go mad over.

"Please y/n...she was the only one, I cant bear to lose her!" Y/n took pity on the god, but if they ever got caught meddling with the dead they would cease to exist. Still knowing this, they implanted a bit of Guizhongs soul into a beautiful cherry blossom tree and sent the rest to the after life.

"Weep no more Rex Lapis, for I have planted a bit of your lovers soul into a cherry tree. But it shall only be located in one tree, so choose wisely." They wipped his tears and gave him a few days to decide. Y/n witnessed the creation of Guili Plains from the geo archon in memory of Guizhong. He came back to the grim reaper and request the cherry tree be planted there.

"Is that your final decision?" Making sure he had no regrets.

"I understand your requirements for this contract, so I accept with no regrets." And just like that you granted his wish.

~~~

Every year, Zhongli visits the cherry tree and basks in its presence. He even talks to it as well, not many people visit Guili Plains so he enjoys every second of alone time with the tree and himself. Zhongli had come to adore cherry blossoms from the contract y/n had opposed on him, and on a very peculiar day the grim reaper had disguised themself as a human and now works as a florist who sells flowers for those who have passed. Zhongli could feel their presence once they first came down to earth. Like a shockwave, the memories came back to him almost like he forgot about what had happened a few thousand years ago. He found y/n sitting alone next to a cherry tree, the only cherry blossom tree in liyue, that was Guili Plains.

"Y/n...? Is that you?" They turned around and gave him a small smile.

"Rex Lapis... or should I say Zhongli, its been ages hasn't it? Even when you retired, you still wish to live amongst the people."

"Guizhong loved humans. So I wish to seek the purpose and study their behaviors of such beings. Even when those around me come to pass, ill strive to make good memories with them so I can look back."

They chuckled and turned again to face the tree. "Still the same as ever, I've missed you." A petal landed on their hand but dissolved into ash as living beings cease to exist once a grim reaper has come in tact with it. Because of this, they wear gloves and clothing that wouldn't cause a threat to such a beautiful world. They put back on their glove.

Zhongli say down next to them and they enjoyed a comfortable silence. "I still fondly remember the day when you planted this tree" He spoke.

"Thank you for doing that...I would have crumbled without knowing she would never live on to see this world again." Though he grew numb to her death, tears almost threatened to spill out.

"It was the least I could do Zhongli. I can reassure you she is living happily now." Y/n held his face and wiped his eyes before any tears could have a chance to spill. The wind blew freely and sun was setting, turning the sky into a bright pink and orange, like something that was only found in paintings. The cherry blossom petals shined as bright as stars and the rosy pink color reminded him of when Guizhong blushed. Oh how much Zhongli missed those memories. He felt them fade, and he felt guilty they were. Yet he knew it was for the better. He would move on, but he made sure her legacy in this world would never be forgotten.

Prologue end

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x gn!reader #zhongli fanfiction #zhongli genshin impact #guizhong #genshin boys #genshin reader insert #genshin impact zhongli

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sychjelly · 3 years

Text

-‘๑’- excerpt 01

彡 From ‟ born from stone, she was a flower in the night ”.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He can still clearly recall her features and accurately retell them, remembering even to the slightest details like the scar she had on her thigh, obtained through a nasty scuffle with the other gods. She donned a beautiful white gown with golden cranes embroidered in the silk, golden flowers lining the edges and sleeves. On her head would lie a stunning glaze lily, its colors always so vivid and alive despite being removed from its soil.

Her silky white hair was kept up by a delicate golden pin that bore the design of a majestic dragon, accompanied by the many gold accessories that lay in her hair like petals from a cherry tree. Everytime she opened her eyes would be comparable to seeing the ocean, so carefree and livid, full of new things to explore and see. But her eyes had always carried sadness within them, and back then, he had been too young to understand.

Or perhaps he was too naïve instead.

She had the ability to glance into the future, and while she didn't have the strength and willpower of Morax, she would do everything she can to prevent a tragic end, even as to go as far as to beg another god for help. Yet she couldn't prevent the most tragic end of all.

Her own demise.

He can still remember it. Remember everything that happened. Remember the day he had lost her to the corruption.

It wasn't a sudden thing - and he wished that it had been instead, hoped that it would have been short termed. The corruption turned those infected into monsters, beings with no mind nor no emotion. They harbored the cruelest, most ruthless creatures there ever existed, infecting their once pure minds like a plague. It wasn't contagious, as if the virus had a mind of its own, always going for something far stronger than its current host.

It was a parasite.

A parasite that could infect the Gods, but it had been their job to seal away those bad spirits that had been exposed to it. Or even seal the parasite entirely, of which Morax had done and has continued till this day.

He still remembers the day when she had come to him, a gentle smile on her face as they embraced. As they pulled away, he could see the bittersweetness in her clear blue eyes with a strange sense of forewarning. But she didn't warn him of anything, rather, she had told him to promise her something.

"If I ever do get corrupted, please have mercy on my soul and kill me."

He had been shocked to hear that. Completely shocked to the bone.

"I will protect you. I won't let you get infected." He had protested, but all she did was shake her head. Those eyes bore the pain of experience - but of what, he didn't know.

"Please, Morax. It would do us no good if I live as a corrupt being." She continued to plead, her voice shaky.

Not wanting to continue on such an unbearable topic any further, all he could do was nod and promise her her wish. Unknowingly, he had promised her a promise that he'd regret for the rest of his life, for he only thought that the corruption would never reach her soul.

He was wrong to think she would be spared from such a plague.

Decades passed smoothly with no obstacle, until that fateful day came knocking at his door.

It was the middle of the night, where the moon was at its highest, that he heard a loud cry for help in the valleys of Liyue. He had none to do, and decided to investigate. The plea of a commoner that had wandered into the Adepti's territory, he had thought naïvely, but he hadn't expected it to be the plea of a human for a god to save another.

There she lay, shadowed in darkness, cloaked in a black that wasn't her own. It stained her clothes, spread across her body like a plague, corrupting her body and soul with every passing second, the darkness consuming her whole. Only then he truly felt fear - the fear of loss.

How she had been infected, he did not know. But he knew something. He had to help.

He had rushed to her aid, his arms embracing her body as she writhed in his grasp, the darkness gnawing at her skin and bones. Yet her eyes, her eyes still kept the same crystal blue that had always met his with such fondness. Though he knows, he knows that same pureness wouldn't last.

"You promised me something, Morax." She had said to him in his arms, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. Despite that, her gaze was solid and strong, her eyes piercing through his own with such intensity. He can recall, he knows what she's referring to, but he cannot bear to think of it.

"Guizhong… please, I cannot-" He had begun, but quickly fell short of his words when he couldn't find anything to say. Nothing but worry clouded his eyes, and he found himself backed into a corner for the very first time. He'd do something - anything - but he well knew that once the corruption had its firm hold on someone, it would not let go.

If she had told him before, showed him her corrupted wounds…

Tears stung his eyes like needles.

"It would be better. For all of us." Her hand rose to caress his cheek, a gentle smile spreading across her features. Her smile was a smile like none other, full of warmth and love for him. It was genuine, real… real. But it was short-lived for she succumbed to a fit of messy coughs right after, dark red mixed with hideous shades of purple splattering onto the ground below them.

He couldn't move. Couldn't think.

"I can't let you go… not like this." Was all he could muster, teeth gritting in regret as he felt her body grow colder. He had desperately cast a sealing spell in hopes of stopping the parasite or perhaps even seal it entirely, but the magic in his palm faded whenever he tried.

She was too far infected to cure, but he didn't let himself come to that conclusion.

"There has to be some way. There has to be." His voice cracked with heartbreak as he continued to try everything he could think of, going so far as to cast the most complicated spells at the risk of his own strength. Everything failed, and all Guizhong could do was look on silently as his efforts took no root.

"It won't be long, Morax." Her voice became raspy, rough from the coughs that erupted from her chest. He could hear her lungs wheeze in effort everytime she spoke, and he could feel his heart shatter all the more. The corruption had begun making its way over to her face, infecting her pale cheeks with a dark shade of devilish purple.

"Guizhong, please, stay with me." His own voice had turned into a meek one, like a child going to their parents after a horrible nightmare. He lay his hand on her chest and rested his head on hers, his eyes shut tight with heartache. Her hand gently caressed over his, their slim fingers intertwining.

"When I turn, I will no longer be Guizhong." She had whispered in such a quiet voice, her once blue eyes heavy with tiredness. The pain fizzled in her body like electricity, and she found herself losing her feelings in her limbs. All she could do was lift her free hand slowly, up to caress Morax's scarred cheek.

"I know that." He'd murmured, biting back his tears, hand squeezing hers with such desperation. He couldn't cry now. He didn't want her last image of him to be one of tears.

"Then you of all people, should know what must be done."

He could feel his nose turn sour. And he felt something cold roll down his cheeks. He knows what it is, feels what it is, but he doesn't hold back - the emotional pain was like a wave, crashing onto him with such force and sheer impact.

"But you're still you. Please, Guizhong. Stay with me." He pleads, his heart cracking with heartache. Every part of him was pitiful, and he was supposed to be a god of stone. Yet he was shattering, breaking into a million pieces before a Goddess that had failed her own people.

"Time is not on our side, Morax." She'd urged him once more, her own hand squeezing his. She smiled sadly, leaning closer into his chest. Tears soaked into his robe, and he realised that it wasn't just his own. "Always remember that I will be by your side, no matter what happens… even after my mortal vessel expires."

She gave him the brightest smile as she spoke, and he burned that smile into his brain for he knew it would be her last.

As she raised her head once more, her eyes flickered open with an aura of hostility, an unreadable look on her face. Her eyes were no longer the crystal blues they once were - now they harbored nothing but the effects of the corruption. They were purple, black slitted, and there was nothing but hatred and anger that flared within like a wildfire.

It was then Morax knew for good that she was gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this post is just to kick start things. this is but a small excerpt of the 4k words i wrote while sleep deprived :D

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ anyway, hope you enjoyed, if you’d want to read the entire thing, link is here ✦ !

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin writing #fanfic #genshin fanfic #zhongli #guizhong #zhongli x guizhong #guili #reminisence #morax #angst #genshin angst

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ccider · 3 years

Text

and the dust settles

to guizhong, glaze lilies are beautiful. much more than other flowers, and much more than anything she could ever imagine. it is a fact that only zhongli and now xiao know. some may see it as a vanity, and in a way, it is. but to guizhong it is more - to guizhong, it is a promise. to herself, to zhongli, and to xiao.

see, the thing is, godhood comes with prices, and guizhong has to play. her power wanes as the days go by, and she holds up her swords and it feels wrong. less and less pray to her, and guizhong grows paler. her hair falls out in clumps - zhongli and xiao say it is because of stress. all three of them know that is not true. the glaze lilies do not shine as brightly when she sings - something zhongli says is because of her sore throat, as xiao nods in the back.

none of them are ready to accept losing each other. guizhong is not ready to lose.

i. guizhong

guizhong is born in a field of glaze lilies. call it an affinity, if you will, but glaze lilies have followed her ever since. (and with it comes zhongli.)

zhongli brings home a child one day - not any other ordinary one, rather a small child, the size of a newborn fawn, with eyes that blaze brighter than any other sun she’s ever seen. he stares at her, not in wonder, but rather contempt. guizhong knows better than to be scared - she has defeated monsters thousands of times bigger than him. and yet, she is not scared of the tiny devil - she is scared at how he looks at her, eyes void of any emotion. he introduces himself as alatus, pain seeping through the way he utters the name, as if it is cursed.

his name is xiao, zhongli decides, after she sees him fend of hilichurls that attack the nearby field of glaze lillies. he’s fast and his eyes glow with the fervor of battle when he fights. she’s almost sure there’s another meaning to the name - perhaps it’s a story she’ll learn one day. (it’s one of the only time she actually sees him smile.)

life with xiao and zhongli is, in a way, domestic. not as if the war doesn’t rage on everyday just outside her door, but rather in the way she knows exactly what tea xiao prefers, and how zhongli makes her dinner after she comes back home from the village. (he is a good cook, for all his faults. she is rather fond of his bamboo shoot soup - as simple as it may be, it reminds her, in an arbitrary way, of when things were easier. it reminds her of home.) her favorite part of the day is when she is in her workshop, as xiao sits in the corner, big eyes staring as she works on his spear. it has been years since she has gone to battle, but the weight of the spear is familiar in her hand.

guizhong is a soldier. she is known for her conquests upon man, and the fear of guizhong and her two swords is well known - however, for all she has battled, the battlefield is the last place she wants to be. it’s not the blood that scares her - it’s how inhumane she seems. guizhong lusts after blood on the battlefield - it is not a feeling she likes. and yet, as the spear sits in her mind, she remembers the thrill of plunging her swords into humans, watching them cry out. she is brutal, she knows. a monster some may call her - for all of zhongli’s fault, he is not bloodthirsty.

it has become almost instinctual to comb through zhongli’s knotted hair with her hand - it gets longer, and longer, and he looks beautiful. she crafts a comb for him, with the best materials she has. guizhong thinks it will go well with his hair, as the gold ends grow longer and longer.

xiao loves flowers. guizhong cannot recall how many flower crowns he has made for her, eyes twinkling with something akin to mirth and he gets on the tips of his toes to rest it on her head. it is rather out of character for him - some days, xiao doesn’t even look at guizhong. she understands. some days she can’t look in the mirror, when her skin seems a shade to red when she wakes up.

the smell of the freshly cooked almond tofu only seems more enticing with the happy atmosphere, the jellied, sugary dessert making them all salivate. xiao in particular seems to enjoy it the most - taking quick bites out of it when he thinks zhongli and guizhong are not watching, and simply enjoying the taste.

it’s moments like this that guizhong truly appreciates, as she watches xiao become more comfortable eating and relaxing, albeit not under the eyes of zhongli. the boy acts as if he has to prove himself to zhongli - and yet, she understands, as he tries to make zhongli his special bamboo shoot soup, seeing it as a way to prove himself. he burns himself on the fire as tries to use his wind to make the fire grow quicker so the soup will be ready by the time zhongli is home from the market. the gasp of pain makes guizhong’s eyes shoot open from the slightly asleep trance she had been in

xiao looks to her, guilt-ridden as the soup on the floor. he seems to be looking for a punishment - she curses his old master, and assures him it’s ok. the fire starts up again, and together, they make dinner. she doesn’t make comments on the way xiao flinches when she raises her knife to cut the food, just as he doesn’t make one when she tenses up every time someone touches her.

guizhong’s love, zhongli proclaims one day, is enough to cure any man’s disease. he says this while looking at her, his face smiling, but his eyes - his eyes are so beautiful. xiao quirks a semblance of a smile (or maybe it is a smirk. guizhong cannot tell with her failing eyes after too many days spent in the workshop with no light.) he nods his head, slightly, in a way of understanding what zhongli has said.

she smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

xiao has lived with guizhong and zhongli for a few months now. today, they are going to town. xiao clings to guizhong - in a way, she feels like his mother. he’s not very socially active, and yet, guizhong worries for him everytime she seems him staring in the mirror with the same look in his eyes that she gets when she remembers the feeling of slicing through skin.

it is not to say guizhong isn’t kindhearted - for all her faults, she is still a benevolent goddess. she sings to the glaze lilies so the children can pick them and put them in their hair, childish smiles lighting up their tiny faces. she tends to the crops for the older villagers who cannot work as much as they were able to years ago. guizhong is benevolent. but guizhong is bloodthirsty on her worst days.

xiao tends to understand this more than zhongli - zhongli is kind outside and inside. she knows how much it hurts for him to even think of harming another living being, even less one who can think, breathe, and live. he’s vegetarian - so are xiao and guizhong, but only in a way to pay him back. xiao, xiao however, he understands.

xiao’s green hair is seen as interesting by the village’s children - they come up to him, shouting “mister, mister, can we see your hair?”, and guizhong sees the upward quirk of his lips, however subtle it maybe. guizhong notices his hair is getting a bit long too - it is his choice if he decides to let it grow, but she thinks she prefers it longer.

“under the name alatus”, he admits to her one day, “i have murdered many. the feeling of disgust never goes away. so doesn’t the thrill.” she smiles slightly, and takes her to the docks to show him the patch of glaze lilies that grow near there. he picks them up, and he weaves a flower crown with his deft hands. (if guizhong is being honest, the crown is so xiao, rough edges, but crafted to be perfect. sensitive to the touch, but enduring while she wears it in her hair.) she has grown rather fond of him.

none of them are ready to accept losing each other. guizhong is not ready to lose. and yet, she is, as her throat gets sore the more and more she strains it, and the children in the village play with her hair until it tears out. they watch her with morbid understanding. the children have accepted defeat - guizhong will not. (she says this as she coughs into her arms, the tiniest hint of red appearing. the children see this. she hides it in her billowing sleeves, but the damage is done.)

years ago, after watching havria lose her people and herself in the process, guizhong was, in a way, appalled. the death of the kind goddess and her even kinder people weighed heavy on everyone’s minds - the archon war kept taking and taking from guizhong. zhongli came home panting, covered in blood, and his mind was elsewhere. eyes glazed, zhongli would often ask only one question, lying on the bed.

“what reason do we have to live?”

guizhong, years later, has an answer. and yet, the answer seems at the tip of her tongue, resting while she thinks and thinks, so obvious yet so impossible. it aches in her chest when she watches xiao smile for the first time at some village boy that passes, his blonde hair weaved into a braid, when zhongli makes her bamboo shoot soup and feeds her with the spoon, holding her to his chest when she can’t eat anymore.

zhongli makes her feel so loved, so special, so amazing. a feeling she, in many ways, believes she doesn’t deserve. many times in her life guizhong looked to her right and saw her best friend, (her love), right where she needed him. and yet she cannot promise the same for him - dust is fleeting, afterall, spreading and destroying.

guizhong’s dust becomes black as the days go by. her crafting becomes fervent.

her descent into madness is slow. she spends less time with the children and xiao, and more time in her studio, crafting what will be her last impacts on this world.

she wakes up one day and comes to the revelation that her hands are shaking every time she holds them up to her face. (she keeps working.)

“this,” guizhong starts one day at dinner, “this, zhongli, is a mark of our pledge.” she holds up the newest weapon she has crafted - it glistens, gold light pouring out. “everything i know - all my wisdom, is held inside this stone dumbbell. this is my challenge to you.” zhongli’s face is apprehensive - he knows better than to take guizhong’s challenges, having fell into trouble many times before - but this time, there’s something different.

she hands the dumbbell over to him.

pt. 1! cross posted on ao3 and ff.net.

#genshin impact #guizhong #xiao #zhongli #guili #major character death #zhongli fanfiction #xiao fanfiction

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therosefrontier · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 5

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

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Genshin Impact | Zhongli and his memories

(crossposted to AO3)

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“I met with Azhdaha again yesterday.”

Zhongli started his story while seated on an old stone platform in Guili Plains, a low crumbling stone wall behind him, an ancient tablet the only company by his side. “Virtue grows tall like a tree, though there be shade it will flourish forever,” the dome-shaped tablet read. At times like these, he often wondered at what all the author of those words had in mind when she wrote that.

“I…assumed this would happen, one day. Elemental spirits are nigh immortal beings, and it would be foolishness to assume that a sealed spirit won’t some day find their way out.” Zhongli paused for a moment, his words feeling heavy on his tongue, as if someone really were here that he had to explain this too. “He…left, of his own accord,” he finally said. “His spirit is once again sealed in the mountain. Although, we may very well meet again. I simply might dare to hope that next time, it would be under better circumstances.”

“My life is nigh on eternal. I will go on with the infinite flow of time. And you, Morax... You too will live for many a day to come.”

But Azhdaha would never again be free. This…this was their contract.

Zhongli looked down at his hands and at the ground, the events of many centuries earlier being all too clear in his mind. The events of yesterday were but a brief addendum to what already happened. Azhdaha’s roar of rage and pain, his accusations of treachery, the underlying grim reality of knowing that all of Liyue could be in danger if he didn’t end this here and now…all of that happened, already. Yesterday, Azhdaha was divided, his rage and his benevolence split into two beings. The first time they fought, the benevolent and wise Azhdaha that he once knew was nowhere to be found.

“I never thought I’d be able to speak with him again, like he was. Well, it wasn’t his form necessarily: his consciousness had possessed a random human, but still, once his memories were regained, the words and the voice were most certainly his.” Zhongli smiled weakly. “I must admit, that despite the inherent peril of the situation leading up to this meeting, I was glad. To see him, that is. It…was as if he were still alive.”

“Rex Lapis, we are at your command,” Moon Carver assured him with great gravity, he and Mountain Shaper and the other watching the approach of the rampaging earth dragon with a steeled gaze, ready to fight.

Rex Lapis hesitated only for a moment. Only for a moment did he allow his heart to twist in pain, did he allow his eyes to lose their vivacity as he looked down from the sky at the dragon who cursed his name through his own unfathomable anguish. There was no solution, he knew. Erosion was something that could not be reversed. But he didn’t want to believe it. Not for Azhdaha. He didn’t want to lose him, too.

“We will lure him into the cave underneath the mountain. Follow my lead.”

Zhongli found Azhdaha as a spirit sealed deep in the earth, a simple but unique rock without sight or motion. His stirrings had been the cause of many earthquakes and tremblings, so Zhongli thought it fit to draw the spirit of stone up from the earth and grant his wish, to give him a chance to be free in the world outside. They made a contract, then. Zhongli always made a contract, with those he invited to join him. There was only one for him for which such an agreement was delayed…only because at first, he did not know what their partnership was even to be called. It was one of many ways that Guizhong confused him.

But for the great stone dragon, their agreement was clear. If Azhdaha ever endangered Liyue and brought ruin to order, he would once again be sealed in the dark.

Zhongli always kept true to his contracts.

“Come, I wish to show you something,” Morax beckoned him with a slight smile, bringing his friend up to a ledge overlooking the waters, the sun setting over the mountains in the distance and washing the sky with color.

“What is this?” Azhdaha asked in a deep and booming voice, although its powerful aura was perhaps mitigated by the way he spoke with the curiosity of a child. “I have seen this water before; now it is different?”

Morax chuckled softly. “Take a moment and have a look.”

Azhdaha came up over the ledge with thundering steps. “Your sun looks different. The color has changed. Is it nearing death?”

“No, no, not at all,” Morax explained with a slight touch of amusement. “This is a sunset. The sun will soon disappear over the mountains. You asked last night why the light leaves the sky in such a way. So, I thought I’d bring you here to watch. Of course, the motion of the sun can be observed anywhere, but it carries a different effect, in some locations. The sun will change its color now, but after it disappears, it will come back the next day just as it was before.”

Azhdaha hummed in acknowledgement, then plopping down onto the grass with a shaking of the earth. “So now, we sit and watch?”

“Yes, I say we shall.”

“Morax, how do I look? Unimposing? Like a true human?”

“You look very well,” Morax agreed with a smile. It was in an elemental spirit’s nature to be able to change shape and form, but this was Azhdaha’s first time doing it on his own. His human form wasn’t exactly all that ‘unimposing,’ being that of a man quite large and broad-shouldered, but he looked enough like a human, at least.

“Mm, that is acceptable.” Azhdaha put his newfound fists on his hips and looked down at the Guili Assembly plaza down below. “It is time to interweave myself with humankind. I wish to first try the foods that people keep telling me about. I do not see the appeal of this ‘Grilled Ticker Fish’ that Pervases speaks of, as it is merely a single fish, but I wish to obtain this first, so that I may give him my full opinion!”

“Sounds like a suitable plan,” Morax agreed with a nod. “Then, let’s not keep our human and adepti friends waiting.”

Zhongli remembered his form then, strong with a youthful wonder that wizened into ancient wisdom over the passage of time. It was so startingly unlike the form half of him took yesterday, of a child with a bitter glare in her eyes.

“So here lies the wisdom of the gods? Destroy all deemed redundant, enlist tyrants to ravage the wilderness!” Jiu mocked in her (his) fury.

Zhongli had a contract to keep. He had to seal Azhdaha away. There was no choice.

“Is once not enough!? You would forsake me again!?”

It wasn’t what he wanted. But was there…really nothing he could have done? If he had stopped the humans from mining in the Chasm, if he had noticed the change in Azhdaha, if he had just taken the time out of his duties to pay him a visit, then maybe…

“Erosion ground Azhdaha’s consciousness into oblivion. Slowly, he forgot the face of his old friend, and his memories of defending Liyue Harbor disintegrated,” Azhdaha in Kun Jun’s vessel recounted his own story with a faint smile of regret.

Zhongli couldn’t stop erosion.

And yet…he mourned what came to pass.

Zhongli had known, for a very long time, that he would never again be able to mourn as a mortal would. Azhdaha was far from the only one he has lost to time and conflict. The name he called him, “Morax,” was a stark reminder of this, that name which he had walked away from a long time ago but never truly shed. Morax was a god of war, a slayer of thousands. Morax had for a long, long time grown used to the bloodshed that was Liyue’s reality, as god fought against god in the Archon War and sacrificed hoards of soldiers as pawns. Morax felt no disgust or horror when he walked through a battlefield after the fight was over, stepping over bodies and walking through pools of blood and entrails as he coldly assessed the damage done.

In some ways, Rex Lapis was no different. For that matter, neither was Zhongli. Although his thoughts on war had changed—he would avoid it through the employment of contracts and words, if at all possible—he could never feel the same revulsion towards death and bloodshed as a human would.

Rex Lapis saw many scores of yaksha and other adepti swear fealty to him over the millennia. They would give him their loyalty, and he would make a contract with them, and he would know, because of how many times it had happened already, that they might give their lives in his service. They might fall to the evil that plagues the land in battle, or they may be consumed by the very filth they faithfully eradicated. Rex Lapis did not consider their deaths to be meaningless, nor did he ever wish to sacrifice his subjects as a pawn of war, but…he might have accepted, at some point long ago, that such deaths were inevitable and necessary.

He could not mourn as a human would—or rather, as a human without authority might. A war god had to know, lest he be blind, that he was sending his people to possible death.

He bore that weight, and he accepted that responsibility.

But in that responsibility…what did that mean for Azhdaha? Whose soul was crushed not by the many battles they fought together, but by the erosion of the earth itself?

He was sealed forever by Zhongli’s own hands. That was their contract. That was justice.

He always kept his contracts. No matter the price, no matter what he had to do…even if it was a pact paid in blood with Celestia, he did what he must for the sake of Liyue…

But was it true? Did Zhongli, in that near-final meeting, betray Azhdaha?

“I did what I must,” he spoke again to the stone tablet, cold and motionless despite the warm words inscribed upon it. “Virtue grows tall like a tree, though there be shade it will flourish forever.” But how did one define what “virtue” meant? How much of this “shade” was acceptable? This increasing debt, made in blood…

“His anger, however, does seem justified, in a certain way.”

“Guizhong?” He looked up, a small drop forming in his near-human eyes. “Did I do the right thing?”

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #betrayal #fandom #fic #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli quest #musings #azhdaha #zhongli has sadness

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irethepotato · 3 years

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Memory of dust

Warnings: Angst, major canon character death, some spoilers of Guizhong backstory

Can also be seen as romantic or platonic relationship

Characters: Zhongli, mentions of Guizhong

It was a solemn day when they held the funeral for the God of Dust. Many of her allies and adepti came in respect for her. In the midst of them, is the God of Geo. Although he was not in tears as those who were close with Guizhong, his face was full of grief.

He didn’t say, “You fool.”

He didn’t say, “How dare you leave us, now, here, when the war is almost over? You were kind, generous and brave and how is it even possible you can be dead?

He didn’t say, “You led the humans through despair during the war. You taught me how to be humane.You gave me a path, when all I knew was how to win a war. I fell in love with our small Guili, under your twinkling goddamn eye, and I would've have given up everything to have this world-- to live in it, to witness it, to protect it for them. And now I'm not even sure if I could go back without feeling the pain in my chest when I'm reminded of you.

He didn’t say, “I don’t know how Guili can exist without you, Guizhong. It has your name in it after all. I'm so angry with those who cut your life short. I’m so angry with myself and I know, when you lose someone you could have saved, maybe, if you had just-- I know that anger never goes away.

“But maybe this will. I miss you already. I’ve already reached for your support, your advice, your knowledge so many times and found myself slipping because you aren’t here. You have been Liyue, for a long time. You were the safest haven that the humans have, that I have, and I don’t know how to do this.”

He didn’t say any of it. Maybe one day, he will.

For now, he will let his grief fill the silence.

#genshin impact #genshin writing #zhongli #guizhong #genshin zhongli #genshin guizhong #genshin imagines #genshin impact fiction

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letterstomilen · 3 years

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the death of rex lapis (hopefully)

Zhongli, Vampire Alternative Universe (warning: this is mainly expositional bc ive had fun playing around w the idea of how zhongli would be if he was a vampire so idk where this’ll go! there is some childe/zhongli but not much!! anyways happy birthday zhongli i love you :) Zhongli does not make a good vampire.

Immortality is meant to make you smart.

But what people forget is that you don’t live that long because of wits. Immortality does not mean you are capable; it means that you were foolish enough to get bitten and didn’t think much of it later.

He wasn’t clever when he was held by Guizhong, who smiled sweetly at him as she looked at him, her hair brushing against his skin and cold hands curling the ends of his hair. And certainly not sharp when he failed to notice that her heart wasn’t beating and she seemed to look more at his neck— ”You have a very fine neck,” she informed him when he asked, and he nodded, assuming that it was one of those things sculptors just happened to notice—than his eyes for the majority of the night.

Whether it was out of guilt or disinterest, he doesn’t know. Zhongli would like to think that it was out of guilt, because prior to the night, they were friends. And after she bit his neck, she held him in her arms, whispering story after story as he stuck by fever.

The pain was unimaginable. First—there was shock. And then minutes later, while he wondered why the room smelled more like sweat and blood than incense, he realized that he was still held down.

This must be what quarry feels like, he thought then. But now he knows otherwise; prey would never be held so gently and lay there limply if they could help it. He, while being drained every bit of life, was a willing, sitting duck.

That was before the pain, of course. When she finally let go of him to wash her face—he recalls this clearly: her wiping her face, then licking the blood off her hands with the relish of a child on her birthday, before leaving to the bathroom—he laid there paralyzed. It was, he’s discovered, a bit like being drunk.

Only that the alcohol left his insides in unimaginable pain for days on end. He stumbled when he tried to stand; babbled as he struggled to speak. Even now he only remembers brief flashes of it, when he tore the skin on his arm with his newly grown canines, or hours of rejecting food that he could not quite stomach.

In reality, he was a child—a baby, really, if you were being blunt about it. The weeks that followed were horrendous and perhaps it’s a blessing that he spent the majority of them inhibited, the metamorphosis shedding every part of him that he was comfortable with. But as the days went on, the pain gave way to numbness and numbness gave away to strength.

And when he finally regained enough consciousness to form a coherent sentence, he asked Guizhong why she did it. She, with the certainty of somebody that’s lived for longer than he had, answered, “Well, you’ve always been interested in how the world would change after you were gone. Isn’t this now your chance to witness it?”

Fanaticism with history and predictions could only get you so far. To witness it—wasn’t that just a dream? And because he assumed that rocks were eternal and could not erode back then, he nodded in agreement.

It was a mistake.

Six hundred years ago, Zhongli underestimated the length of his lifetime. One day he’d be talking to somebody about their newborn and it would only be a blink later where their newborn was six feet under, hailed for having a long and blessed life. (What made a blessed life? It couldn’t have been the years –he concluded that every year he was more cursed than before.) Relationships were scarce because he forgot that not everybody experienced time the same way he did.

Days, contrary to his belief, were not fleeting seconds but rather twenty-four hours long. They composed of both the night and day, waking and sleeping hours instead of mindless walks that ended with him apologizing profusely before his fangs were embedded deep into somebody’s throat.

Somebody suggested for him to just do it in an alley and leave them there to be found at morning. But that was too disrespectful—uncouth even. He preferred to invite them into his home, graciously taking their coat and ushering them inside to a table filled with food. Venti always commented on how polite he was to the very end, taking extra care to cook food that he knew they liked—“Last meal before execution, huh?” he’d comment. “Very romantic.”—and making them comfortable until the very end.

That’s not how it started of course.

He tried starving himself at first—much to Osial’s amusement. On a night out, where Zhongli was more attuned to the heat and beating hearts of the people around him than the delicacies laid out, Osial took it a step further by passing him a cup with a thick, maroon liquid that sloshed around in it.

It smelled finer than the silk flowers that littered the gardens, and when he took the cup, he felt one step closer to the damnation Guizhong always spoke of. The worst part was that it didn’t churn his stomach—instinctually, he felt more delighted than he ever felt, a smile cracking his worn face as he inspected the goblet. Only when did he take note of Osial’s smug expression, the glint in his eyes that reminded him of an elusive professor, and the way he watched him carefully the way a parent would watch a child take its first steps, did he hesitate.

It wasn’t benign; it was as if he expected him to trip and fall over after attempting to take his first steps, taking pleasure in both the failure and success. Because both would end with Zhongli crossing the line one way or another, wouldn’t it? And there was nothing more enjoyable than sadism to somebody that’s seen it all already.

Right now he is fighting a losing battle. But he would rather starve than lose it here, so he hands the cup back to him, feeling a little more of his willpower crack.

Animal blood, by all accounts, is disgusting. It’s oily and sometimes he’d get sick, ending the night more ravenous than ever as if his skin were tightening around itself. You couldn’t just drink it—especially if you didn’t know where the animal has been. First you had to kill it neatly—a quick breaking of the neck would suffice, as strangulations were often drawn out—and then you had to clean it.

There was something almost humane in the process. Countless butchers have done it before, so he felt comfortable doing it himself.

It was only when he sunk his teeth into the carcass that he felt more like a vulture than anything else. The blood only staved off his hunger for short periods, so it was more of a painkiller than a sufficient meal.

And Osial found the whole thing to be hilarious.

“How unfortunate. If only Guizhong didn’t choose somebody that insisted on drinking animal blood, then it’d be more enjoyable. You know—if you open your mouth a little wider, you’ll look a bit more like the starving beast you are.” Then he dipped a finger in the cup and licked it as if it were chocolate, sweet and rich.

“Yes… Perhaps I should move onto better things. Do you think vampire blood is like wine? Or would age spoil its taste? I imagine that to a starving beast, there would be no difference—no matter how rotten your blood is, it’s still blood after all.”

Osial laughed and spit the blood out. “Well, you’re not wrong. This animal blood may be disgusting, but to you, what’s the difference?”

He wore his cruelty like a well-fitting suit, the creases shaped like ill-natured grins. Zhongli wondered if that will be him hundreds of years from now, but maybe Osial was always this unpleasant. Guizhong spoke of him the way somebody would talk about their ill-tempered cousin—sure, he’s awful to be around but he’s been a part of the family for so long already.

At the very least, he can provide a good meal. The question will always be for who, and his appetite is insatiable concerning all matters. Some vampires preferred a more barbaric approach of finding somebody, killing them, and then throwing the body away. Others—like Osial—treated it more like a game, drawing it out.

Sometimes he’d target entire families and call it a “feast” inviting others to join him. They were gruesome affairs that ended with many drunk on blood for weeks at a time, and even though he never went to them, he always heard about them.

Directly from Osial of course. Who seems intent on highlighting every small detail, every bloody death or desperate guest that was less than willing in the end but, Osial would say with delight, weren’t they all? As a matter of fact—and here was when he’d bring Guizhong into it, dragging her out of her room with her blueprints and models—Zhongli was very willing, wasn’t he?

“Up until he realized that he had to drink blood,” he’d say, as if he finally reached the punchline for a joke—then Osial would throw his head back with laughter.

And it’s not as if he hadn’t before. Sometimes, if he hurt himself, he would’ve licked the blood. But that tasted metallic—it was nothing like the delicacies that other vampires would set out, naming the meals by age, defining trait (sexual activity, lifestyle, etc.), and gender.

It took him fifty years for his willpower to break down. And he did it in front of Barbatos, who simply watched as he drank, not speaking of the way Zhongli drunkenly rambled for hours on end nor the way blood trickled down his neck and stained his clothing.

The deaths after that were easier. It was almost disappointing how he managed to replicate what Guizhong did with such ease. When he set the serviette over their chest before sinking his teeth into their jugular, he felt just like her.

Only when did he clean them up before burying them did he truly feel at rest. At the time it felt like appropriate compensation—a substitute for the promise he failed to keep for himself. The whole ordeal of washing the blood out of their matted hair and drying it out as he laid them down alleviated the sense of unease.

Guizhong would often watch him while he did it, pointing out certain anatomical features as she did. Her hands would trace over their veins, pressing down on the blue as she spoke. Osial joined them once, but he was so perturbed by the attention Zhongli dedicated to the process that he left immediately.

That was centuries ago.

He, sometime down the line, traded in these rituals for slaughter and abandoned that for mimicking the human lifestyle.

Barbatos would say that it’s been badly done, of course.

“You make the worst human,” he once said, as he watched Zhongli struggle to stomach garlic bread that he offered him.

Which could be why he’s now cornered by a vampire hunter.

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is often frequented by vampires all around Teyvat—there are rumors of blood dealings with underground groups but the Milileth has never investigated it—and Zhongli, with no danger signals, happens to be one of them.

It doesn’t help that he works there too. The irony that all these years later he never quite rid himself of dealing with dead bodies isn’t lost on him.

And he did hear about the Fatui, because word about people hunting vampires travels fast in a country as busy as Liyue.

“Sir,” the vampire hunter informs him kindly, “you do know that this is a hub for vampires, right?”

The voice isn’t what shocks Zhongli. Neither is the maroon mask that’s hanging by the side of his head—one told to be notorious among only the most vicious of hunters—or the thin outlines of weapons in his clothes.

It’s his eyes. They’re a bright blue, usually associated with the sea on bright days, but they’re more akin to the vampires that Zhongli has seen before with the wild glint in his eyes. It’s jarring with the smile that he adopts as he asks, and he imagines opening his mouth to a pair of fangs.

He knows that he won’t find them though. If the rumors he hears are any indications, the Fatui are above recruiting any vampires that’ll threaten their operation.

“Ah. Yes. I do. I’m the consultant here, you see,” he explains politely.

And shouldn’t that be an indication that he’s a vampire? Hu Tao is notorious for her strange tastes. And he must know of the deals she makes with underground groups, the money and blood that’s traded between them.

“Oh!” the hunter’s expression brightens as he clasps his hands together. “I heard about you! I got to say—when they told me that the consultant was knowledgeable on all things Rex Lapis, I was expecting an old man.”

He doesn’t wait to explain who Rex Lapis is. This, of course, is a given seeing that Rex Lapis has become a household name, infamous for his butchery of both vampires and humans alike. But a hundred years later, Zhongli hoped, people would forget about him—or maybe get rid of the fanaticism in their voices when they spoke about him.

It’s quite discomforting, really.

“Well, I am old.”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah. You hardly look older than me. Call me Childe—I was hoping that you could, ah, answer a few questions I have on Rex Lapis. The 77th Master said that you’d be available and more than willing. She.. actually, here you go!”

Zhongli takes the paper he offers him, which says If you ask him anything, he’d be more than willing to spend the rest of the day answering it! in her rough cursive that he’s grown to dislike. Of course—the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is not beneath fraternizing with vampires or the Fatui.

But he prefers this much more than the vampires that stare at him as they struggle to place him in their ancient hierarchy. And this does work in his favor, he thinks. A vampire hunter wants to know more about him, Rex Lapis—wouldn’t this aid him in finally meeting his end?

So he politely smiles and gives him back the note, not missing how warm Childe’s skin is in comparison to his own. It’s been years since he’s touched a human without the intention of killing them, hasn’t it?

More than suitable then.

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

#this is completely self indulgent my bad #osial #guizhong #zhongli #genshin impact #vampire zhongli

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songzhong · 3 years

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“It is said that during the years when gods contended against one another, Rex Lapis' aspect was that of boundless slaughter.

In those god-eat-god battles, one could never have ascribed gentleness to him.

He knew right from wrong, and never missed his mark: in those days of tumult, he would show no mercy, even to friends-turned-foes. Rex Lapis' stone-cold expression never once changed throughout that storied age.

They say that only when the dust settled did he lay down that unmovable visage.

But it had been necessary, for he had donned it to fulfill a contract.”

From the Mask of Solitude Basalt in the Archaic Petra artifact set.

Zhongli doesn’t understand human emotions. It is seen through the fact that he is so dense and out of touch with everything around him. From a reddit post : Venti calls Zhongli a “brutish blundering buffoon” and “old block-head” in his voicelines. But in Chinese, he specifically insults Zhongli with 不懂人心的死脑筋 = “A dead brain who cannot understand human feelings”.

Those are the words Guizhong told him as she died, giving Zhongli the Memory of Dust which is the puzzle hovering around him when in idle pose and his Elemental Burst meteor. It is a puzzle she bestowed upon him and which contains all of her wisdom.

"This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you." "All my wisdom is hidden within this stone dumbbell." "If you can unlock it—" Many years passed, and he was never able to unlock that dumbbell, nor would he ever learn what might have followed that sentence. Over the years, the wild Glaze Lilies, too, dwindled till at last they were no more. From the Memory of Dust Liyue weapon

My take on it is that through the years of godly war, Zhongli didn’t know anything but warfare, brutally fighting back one god after the other, until he met Guizhong, who showed him what was human emotions, how precious it was. And, even then, it must have taken Zhongli an incredibly long time for Zhongli to know how to remotely deal with those alongside other people. Thus his very surgical way of describing things, as scholarly theory is all he can base himself on to properly ascertain what is going on around him, and surely the way Guizhong explained him alien emotional concepts to him.

Zhongli never had the time to properly live what exactly Guizhong fought for because of the War, he could only, during occasional times, be a momentary witness in moments such as Rex Incognito, even messing around with people directly to test them, his way of exploring and challenging the mortals he wishes to know more about. Thus his cold reputation, as Zhongli has never been able to explore the emotions in him until NOW after millennia of being too busy for thinking about his personal, mental growth.

Ways Zhongli is out of touch is with, yes, his very specific way of speaking like an encyclopedia, describing things in what he believes to be an objective way because he doesn’t know how to show any sort of complex feelings through body language. He could say that something brings him incredible nostalgia, sadness and joy with a straight face, and it would then be taken as odd, or a joke, a lie, simply because he doesn’t know that making X and Y expression or gestures would make his thought come across more easily.

It unfortunately makes people around him tend to consciously or not not care about how he feels because Zhongli doesn’t SHOW any feeling. Zhongli is obviously saddened by Azdaha’s fate during his second story quest, however, even when the Traveler expresses how sad it is, he describes the situation very dryly, saying that things are how they are. However, he stays in front of the seal inscription for a long time, wishing to be alone. Zhongli doesn’t know that the sorrow he may feels is remotely important, or that it would be actually useful for him to express it to a friend. Emotions are so irrational, his rational thought process is more likely thinking “I feel sad but it doesn’t matter because this is the way things are.” This is also why the Traveler is one of Zhongli’s most important friend, because their approach is very human, and they do inquire if Zhongli has been well, and express emotions such as joy and sadness for him. The Traveler’s expression of empathy echoes strongly with Zhongli, the same way Guizhong did.

Now that he believes that humanity can separate themselves from the God, Zhongli can finally explore his feelings... which ends up with him looking like such an odd individual, asking questions to things that most people inherently know but perhaps cannot put easily into words (such as what is a friend, what is a lover...), even when Zhongli shows great knowledge into the theory of these concepts through his own investigations, he has yet to fully live them personally.

Guizhong’s influence, his affection for her and her ideals echo everyday in Zhongli. It shows through the objects he use for the Rite of Parting, his preferences for things such as feminine, mature perfume (which could also, tragically, be his favorite because it unconsciously reminds him of Guizhong’s scent) and his name.

The Guili Plains are named after the two Gods who first shepherded humans in Liyue. It is not Morax or Rex Lapis who did so, but Zhongli, given that the “Gui” 归 part is Guizhong, and “Li” 离 would be his. Zhongli took this name today because it is his very first birth name, the one who wasn’t given to him by godly followers, but the name he bore as a man, a person. The one who loved and fought and, ultimately, discarded the name for thousand of years so he could protect what she and he stood for.

A wild guess of mine is that the key to solving the Memory of Dust might be to deeply understand human emotions, which is what Zhongli currently lacks to open it. Now that the war is over, he can actually start to try to solve it again. Another wild guess of mine is that the Memory of Dust doesn’t contain anything groundbreaking, it could hold a single wild glaze lily like there once was in the plains, only the treasure is not what was inside, but what was needed to open it. Incredible wisdom, a noble heart, and the emotions to love all of mankind.

#.songzhong ( headcanon )#this is so messy like always I just wanted to SAY things but it doens't amount to any sort of conclusion RIP me

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