#he kins lapis

[miraco]

Trying to discreetly marathon steven universe

#he kins lapis #and Tweek as peridot #he is a hardcore lapidot shipper too… #south park #craig tucker #tweek tweak #craig x tweek #sp creek

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ ARRANGED LOVE. 

fandom. genshin impact

pairings. neuvillette x gn!reader

content warnings. sfw (angst with happy ending), arranged marriage/mating, neuvillette loses his children during the archon war, you're a (wind) dragon, he rejects you for many years because he's grieving, not edited/proofread, written in lowercase

word count. 1k

notes. this is now the third time i'm posting this... tumblr this better show up in tags or else

the archon war has now raged for many years and would continue to do so. something one of the last dragons on teyvat hated. the endless pain and suffering of his subjects wore heavy on his heart and soul— but he truly broke when one of his enemies slaughtered his children, the last of his. 

his wailing summoned the worst storm that teyvat has ever seen. his cries for his hatchlings, the last of his kin darkened the sky and the thunder resonates with his sobs. the seas were restless, waves crashing against cliffs and swallowing weak land. 

he continued to cry for his children for many days, cursing celestia deep beneath the surface and wishing all his enemies would die a painful death. he wished for them to suffer, he wished to take everything from them just as they took everything from him.

his children had been protected by his realm and they still died too young. he had been foolish to hope no one would touch his domain, the place where he was king. he had been foolish to hope— foolish to think his power as one of the last dragons, the last hydro one, was grand enough to fend his enemies off. 

his foolishness cost his future, the future of his seas, his waters. 

and the storm raged on, flooding the flat lands and raising small creeks to violent streams. the hydro dragon had been angered and now everyone suffered the consequences. 

meanwhile, the dark clouds grew and reached other regions and nations, slowly but surely completely taking over, other gods and mystical beings grew concerned. well, as concerned as they could be, while they slaughtered each other for the seven thrones. 

one of them was rex lapis, a kin to the mourning dragon. while he never had hatchlings and thus didn’t know the pain of losing them, he could recognize the cries. the hydro dragon was spiraling, his powers feeding onto his grief and claiming even more lives. 

to end the suffering on both ends, he decided to leave his current battlefield and made his way to the dragon known as neuvillette. he didn’t come as an enemy or ally, instead he came as kin to offer assistance— assistance in revenge. 

the agreeing between the two dragons, two mighty elements at their beck and call, became known as the first contract of war, written down by rex lapis himself. he offered a helping hand to the hydro dragon, if he would agree to mate one of his many adepti. 

mad with grief, the dragon agreed. he took an adepti of rex lapis’ choosing as his mate and went on rampage. in matters of weeks, he and the now geo archon reduced their enemies to nothing more but dust. and the god who killed the hatchlings… it is said that the hydro dragon himself drowned him in the sea. 

but what they don’t know, what no one but the two dragons know is that this contract of war saved not only many innocent lives from the floods, but also yours. 

rex lapis has rescued you from shackles placed on you, shackles of earth when you belong in the air. they weakened you, as you were the northern wind that brought the snow and winter to teyvat. wild yet freezing, you’re one of the four winds— and the last one remaining. 

the only thing that could save you, that saved you in the end, was to mate another powerful dragon. and while you wished rex lapis had taken you as his, his future as archon repelled you in the end. no matter what he said, the gnosis from celestia was a shackle. 

you needed to be free, free to remain alive, the last wind of teyvat. 

and the only other option was the hydro dragon, neuvillette. 

it broke your heart to see him like this, reddened eyes and slouched body, he was in no way showing the power he possessed. and oh— how he cried. even when he met you, tears were still running down his cheeks, as the storm raged on. 

the mating itself had been a somber affair, nothing more but a formality. there was no joy when he bit your neck, marking you as his. there was no celebration, instead you tugged on your armor the moment the mating was over. and even then— it couldn’t be even called a proper mating, because there was no nesting, there was nothing but a bite of formality. 

it took decades for your mate to recover, the gentle hydro dragon neuvillette. it took centuries for him to actually look at you and greet you as his mate and not a fellow dragon. 

you can’t lie, those years were weary on you and it hurt— it hurt so bad. but you understood, or at least tried to, and he was trying. 

trying to reign his grief in and to hold his tears back. 

but then you took him by his hand and tugged him with you. the two of you twirled in the air, a dance of dragons, and you spoke to him. 

“grief, my mate,” you said as you pressed your cool body against his.

“cry, my mate”, you whispered while it started to snow. 

“do not harden your heart, remember your hatchlings and remember the pain. the pain you received and brought on others in return.”

“remember, so it shall never happen again.” 

(and this day, he knew, it was this day he finally opened his heart. he allowed himself to feel, to yearn, for your touch, the touch of his mate he rejected for years. he yearned and broke to his desires, the deep, deep desire to love and to be loved again. and you greeted him with open arms and a gentle smile, forgiving the sins he did against you, forgiving all his wrongdoings. 

in this moment he knew, he loved you.)

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #genshin neuvillette #favoniuslibrary #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑

summary: in the quiet nights of liyue, you may hear it; a lonely song echoing in jueyun karst...

pairing: xiao x gn! reader

warnings: angst/ comfort, survivor’s guilt, allusion to self-sacrifice, taking place after the perilous trail quest

The air was silent as the world stood still, no animal cry to be heard, no grass blade to be moved. As always, the mountains of Jueyun Karst was the ethereal depiction of grace and tranquillity. Yet, in the night’s peace, a hauntingly beautiful melody hung like mist between the clouds of Qingyun Peak and filled the air with sorrow and mourning. Despite mortals avoiding the mountain passage, some have borne witness to this song, spinning tales and myths recounting the story of a lonely spirit wandering Liyue in search of… Well, people weren’t quite sure.

It wasn’t the first time the young yaksha sat atop one of the Karst’s many floating islands, his back against cold stone, amber eyes shutting out the present. Perhaps it was the closest he would ever get to a moment of rest, lamenting his friends’ passing so many centuries ago.

Lately, his tune had taken on an even more sombre tone, fresh emotion bleeding into his cries. Xiao despised himself for his moment of weakness, whether it was being helpless when his fellow yaksha suffered or coming here instead of abiding by his duty.

Truthfully, it was no longer only because of his contract with Rex Lapis he vowed to keep the nation safe. No, despite his best efforts to strictly separate mortals and adepti, someone had worked their way into his heart; someone who was good and whose smile Xiao wanted to preserve forever. Someone who didn’t deserve to be tainted by his karmic debt but who he couldn’t pull away from now that he had embraced them.

But it wasn’t only the guilt of endangering the person he loved which weighed on his mind. After a new light had been cast on an old mystery, Xiao had inevitably been forced to face scars which ran deeper than he’d ever like to admit. And with that confrontation came the remorse he so desperately tried to push further down every day he walked the mortal plane.

From the first time he had picked up a spear, Xiao had been a weapon, a lethal pawn pushed around on someone’s chess board. Fortunately, he was given the opportunity to atone for his previous sins with his duty as a yaksha, his fellow kin by his side.

They were the ones who had always longed for a mortal life, the ones who had believed they’d one day all be accepted into a society not meant for them. Yet, he was the only one who had received an invitation to mundane life… The only one who didn’t deserve it.

Back in the chasm, he should have—

Then, he heard it- the slowly approaching footsteps, the rustling grass, the animated breathing, he heard it all. But it was only the familiar touch on his shoulder, paired with the call of his name, which caught up to him and woke him from his sorrowful dream.

“Here you are,” your familiar voice said. As if the sun had started to rise in the dead of night, an inner warmth soon filled him when you took a seat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me being here but I was just really worried.”

“Worried? What for?” Amber eyes focused entirely on you before scouring the area. “Is someone threatening you? Are you being followed?”

“No, silly,” you soothed, placing a hand on his, which had instinctively wrapped around the jade spear by his side, “I’m worried about you, of course. You seem more troubled lately and I don’t know how I can help or if I can help at all. I just want to be here for you.”

You could tell Xiao was searching for something in your eyes before he broke your gaze. Many times you had shared your troubles with him and pride had filled his chest at the trust you put in him. Never once had he even considered the thought of ridiculing your struggle, no matter how major or minuscule it might have been to him. So perhaps, he too could confide in the person before him?

It might have been the calming sway of the qingxin flowers surrounding you, the approaching morning sun or the genuine love he saw in your eyes but, on top of those mountains, Xiao recounted as much as he could, shared as many memories as his brain provided him with. And although he laid them out for you to see, the yaksha felt less empty than the whole time he kept them all inside.

“I’m the only one who didn’t lose their life,” Xiao shakily breathed, voice quiet and meek. “I’m the only one who didn’t have to suffer.”

“Oh but you suffered greatly, can’t you see? Every day, you fight this feeling and endure this pain. And you lost so, so much,” you said, a warm hand sheltering his heart. “You lost your friends, your family, who you loved and cared for. What greater loss could there possibly be?

“I can’t promise that things will be okay because I frankly don’t know if they will be. But I’d like to believe so. We can’t go back to the past, we can’t undo what we’ve done and, even more so, we can’t undo the things we didn’t have any control over in the first place. So, sometimes, all you can do is take a deep breath and start again.” Trying to collect your thoughts, you lifted your head from his shoulder. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to accept joy and happiness without drowning them in guilt. Everyone deserves to be happy, that includes you.”

“Do you really think that is possible?” Xiao hesitantly reached out to intertwine your fingers, emboldened by the way you reciprocated his motion. “For someone like me?”

“Yes, I do, truly. If it makes you feel any better, I’m very grateful you’re still here. And sure, I could feel guilty about enjoying your company when I know of the burden you bear. But there are moments in life where you have to be selfish,” you whispered before placing a soft kiss to his forehead, where a beautiful purple mark sat. Cupping his face, you took in his watery golden eyes and gave him an understanding smile.

“So I selfishly chose to love you.”

tag list: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm

send in an ask to be added or removed ♡

#holly's potions #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact comfort #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin comfort #xiao x reader #xiao angst #xiao comfort #xiao genshin impact

[fallingstarsandthemoon]

how is a perfect cut lapis different than a regular lapis? also squid lore.. how did he end up in stampy's court?

A perfect cut lapis is usually bigger than a regular lapis, containing darker and richer colors and a bunch more Pyrite in their form (the gold stuff in Lapises.) (Or can it be Lapi?)

as for the other question… I’d like to tell you a story about the Sun and the Moon. (Ft. Pre-rebellion Squid and his longer hair.)

(NOT A SHIP I REPEAT NOT A SHIP.)

The sun shone as bright as day, but his eyes were set on a moon. A little blue rock that broke out the Earth was nowhere near the prestige of the sun, but the sun didn’t care. The way the dust on that thing glittered in his rays and that warm smile on such a cold seeming gem was all the Sun needed. Every time the Moon and Sun were seen together, it created a spectacular show for all to see the science of opposites. The Moon and Sun told each other all their woes. The Moon was little and weak compared to the sun, but for once in the Sun’s court’s history, it felt like they didn’t need to worry about the caste system in place. Of course, the Sun had duties to do for the well-being of him and his Sibling’s empire, so he eventually helped rain down destruction on the Earth to end a terrible war. The Moon was so distraught it caused him to flee from the Sun, sticking close to the ruined Earth. His very emotions pulled the tides like a hurricane when it all happened, seeing his companions and kin, scattered and malformed, if not shattered into fine dust…

He would never forgive his radiant Sun for what he did.

And yet…

The Sun felt an empty void after the Moon fled, and the Moon wishes he didn’t feel the same.

…It’s been too long since the last eclipse.

Og Yellow Diamond! Stampy design by

@ingapotejtoo

#gemcyt #shady oaks smp #stampy's lovely world #mcyt #steven universe au #iballisticsquid #stampylonghead #stampylongnose #stampy fanart #yellow diamond su #mini fic #ask

[maggotfagg0t]

The Shepherd & the Snake

A poem written by yours truly.

stumble upon a brink as I gain my balance. I look at the sight before me.

The land over my indulgent mind is painted with iridescent yellows

and baby blues above. Baby blues that darken into sorrowful lapis heavens.

The eye of heaven slowly comes down to rest its head, the moon has taken its place.

No longer do birds chirp, now met with the soothing sound of cicadas buzzing, and the chitter-chatter of crickets playing their fiddles within the bitter wheat fields.

Wheat rushling in the icy breeze, a raspy whisper hushing over the countryside. Drunken darkness waning down on the scenery. Making the land cease to be sun-drenched, and now drowning it in shadows.

Cattle settle their hooves in dusty shambles of beaten pasture.

Cowboys lower their heads as canine companions oversee, and protect the land.

Shepherds mourn the loss of their farmer brothers who were overtaken

by the temptation of their envy-stricken brains.

Rocks bludgeoned into the skulls of their kin, giving rise to an uncanny predicament of sanguinary stained hands by an unkempt narcissistic standpoint. The farmer is deprived of appreciation for yellow bruises formed on his arms that are reminiscent of the sunsets, and sunrises, That greeted his tireless days of work that caused such damages all in the name of pleasing the one.

The Farmer bares the yellow bruises of the unappreciated labor he had done, being deprived of the recognition. His yellow bruises amber just as the sunsets and sunrises he would be greeted by at the end of every tireless day of ruthless work. The lamb being admired, and not the fruits of his labor.

Greed provokes thoughts that cloud his judgment and lead him to hold the limp body of the shameless shepherd.

Standing before him now, The Father himself. whom he had pleaded for equal love from. He wore the skin of a man, though The Father was not deceived.

He knew that the man was as identical in nature to a snake curled up into a ball. Waiting to streak, so he may strangle his prey. Tighting the coils, sufferacoting the mutton with the grudge deeply embedded into his actions.

His sin paved actions resulting in a sour reality in which he was condemned to wander the earth until the end of time itself.

The land below every living creatures weight forever harvests the actions of the one who had fallen from grace first. Though these actions may have forever defiled the former times before us. We will still wake tomorrow and find ourselves upon this unforgiving land.

#poetry #poem #orignal poem #orginal poetry #poets on tumblr #writing #written #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #religion #religious art #religous themes #religous symbolism

[triflesandparsnips]

My gf is doing a research project on sixteenth century recipe books (building a tool to help people read/understand them) and this weekend she was telling me about an ingredient that showed up in one of them that she could not figure out what it was. I have read the soap post (which is SO COOL, btw, I am so excited to see how the wash balls turn out) and I��m wondering if you might know what it actually is.

She first saw it written as venus bolearmonack, but we found several different spellings for it when we both went down internet rabbit holes: bolearmonack, bolarmonack, bolarmonicke. We think it’s maybe some sort of dirt or clay? But it keeps bothering me that we couldn’t figure it out, and reading your post made me wonder if you would know.

OKAY SO:

From Charas's The Royal Pharmacopœea, we know that:

By Minerals I understand all Metals, Half-metals, and what belongs to Metals. All sorts of Earths, and Bole-Armoniack; all Stones, Marbles, Flints, Porphyries, Jaspers, Chrystals, Jacinths, Emraulds, Saphirs, Granats, Blood-stones, Diamonds, and all sorts of Jewels: Sulphurs, Vitriols, Allums, Sal Gem, Bay-salt, Water, Rain, Snow, Ice, Hail, Thunder-bolts, Dew, Manna of several sorts, Morter, Lime, Brick, Oyl of Naphta Amber-griece white and yellow; Jet, Sea-coal and all Bitumens. Talk, Chalk, Bismuth, Zink, and all Marcasites, the ordinary Earth, Sand, Clay; and in general whatever is drawn out of the Bowels of the Earth, or Sea; or descends from the Air, being without Life.

This is Moyse Charas telling us what a shorthand (Minerals) means -- so apparently, Bole-Armoniack (another spelling!) wasn't a shorthand for something else the way, say, "the four greater Cold seeds" are. I also included the full paragraph because that also gives a hint as to what Bole-Armoniack isn't -- or at least, they didn't think it was... which means nope, not clay or dirt.

Later we find out in the same book that it's something you gotta crush the shit outta in a mortar before you can use it, but when you do it'll reduce to an extremely fine powder the way precious stones and amber will.

Lémery's A Course of Chemistry clarifies for a recipe for, ta da, gonorrhea, that:

Litharge, which is a Lead Calcined [a heated lead], Alom, and Bole-Armenick, are so many considerable Astringents, that do no hurt in this composition.

Which is to say, bole-armenick (ANOTHER SPELLING), when powdered, can be heated up to be used in this mix and was added because it was thought to draw together or contract skin tissue. It's also interesting that Lémery bothered to define litharge (which is fairly common in recipes I've seen), but, again, not the bole-armenick.

Finally, on a hunch, I did a search for just "armenick", and hit enough paydirt that I suspect y'all can dig further using it to confirm the results-- Pettus's 1683 glossary supplement to Ercker's Fleta Minor lists the following:

ARMENICK▪ See Armoniack.

ARMONIACK, T. gives it the Latine Name, Bolus Armeni, and we Bole Armoniack, and I find these words of kin, both in their Orthography and Pronuntiation, viz. Amoniack Armenick and Armoniack. The first Pliny tell us, is a Gum which he calls Gumma Amoniaci, of a glutinous nature (like other Gums) and so may be used for Metallick Vessels. The second viz. Armenick; I find the word Sal always joyned with it, and so called Sal Armenicus, and this Salt was antiently accounted a natural Salt, but that being now unknown to us, we use the Armenicus, which is made of the Urine of Elephants or Camels (as 'tis said) boyled to a Lixivium or Salt, and called Sal Armenius or Armeniacus, and this is of great use for purifying and refining of Metals. To the third Armoniacus the word Bole is added, I suppose for distinction sake: Pliny, c. 35. mentions a Stone, which he calls Lapis Armeni, of which he counts several sorts, but the best of those he saith, are of a blew colour, and calls it verd de Azure (being of great price and esteem with Painters, but the common Armoniack he calls Synoper (and we Synople) from a City of that name, where it was plentiful, and 'tis probable this is the same which we call Bole Armoniack, being of a reddish colour, and this is oft used by our Author, and for distinction the word Gum is put to the first, Salt to the other, and Bolus to this: which I write to prevent Errors in Medicines or Metallick Experiments.

So with Pettus's definitions, triangulated with Charas's shorthand notes and Lémery's preparation instructions, we arrive at your "venus bolearmonack" probably being sinople, a "ferruginous quartz that is blood-red or brownish red sometimes with a tinge of yellow" which "occurs in small but very perfect crystals, and in masses that resemble some varieties of jasper."

All that being said, though: always try and get at least one other source to confirm a definition. My beloved Simon Barbe says that benzoin is also myrrh, and that's... that's not right, babe. So double-check, but-- here's a reasonable direction!

#history #linguistics #trifles the amateur history enthusiast strikes again

[pygmyocto]

for me to love you

§pairing: morax | zhongli x fem!reader § summary: how is it possible for him to love you? a god and a mortal soul, one forced to relive the death of their lover for eternity, the other forced to be cursed with a shortened life. § tags/cw: angst, angst no comfort, death, funeral-planning, implied nsfw activities, reincarnation, mortality § notes: not proofread, we die like rex lapis, low-key wrote this for a class originally and had to rewrite it to turn into a fanfic, so if there’s some weird pov changes that’s why. also first fanfic i’ve published in five years woo! § word count: 2.6k

Planning your own funeral is something you should never have to think about. It’s something that should be left to your next of kin, or the ones you leave behind. But what happens when you have no one you’re leaving behind? That’s where a funeral consultant comes in. That’s why Morax is currently pouring over the letter he just received from the courier. Dear Mr. Zhongli, I deeply apologize for my behavior about the arrangements for the funeral. I did not mean to cause you undue stress. This funeral however is extremely important to me, and it’s imperative that it goes off without a hitch. You only die once, right? Apologies again, if I don’t laugh I suppose I’ll cry. But, in any case please do write back to me if you are still comfortable helping me plan the rites of passing. If I do not hear a response from you within the next week, I will go ahead with my plan to pursue another funeral consultant. Best regards, Planning your own lover’s funeral is something you should never have to think about. Which is why he stared at the signature on the line with a slowly cracking heart. That’s why Morax wasn’t able to get out of bed for the past three days. For centuries, eons even, he’d spent his time trying to keep you on this earth with him for as long as possible. Yet here you was as this new vessel at twenty-six, seeking him out to ask for his advice on planning your own funeral. Lying on his back, staring up a blank ceiling, he covered his eyes in the crook of his arm and laughed. What a cruel mistress fate was. His head chanted back the words in the letter to him. “You only die once, right?” No, Morax had witnessed the deaths of your various vessels many-a-times. “I did not mean to cause you undue stress” Darling, you’ve done that since the moment your soul was breathed into existence by Celestia and sent to torment his soul. Perhaps this was his divine punishment for all of the things he had done in the Archon War. “If I do not hear a response from you within the next week, I will go ahead with my plan to pursue another funeral consultant.” One week. That’s all he had to say goodbye. This was all his fault; he knew that it had to be. He was the reason that your soul was fading. While each time your vessel died, you would come back and be the same kind soul, ignorant of your shared lifetimes until something sparked. Then suddenly you remembered everything. This latest vessel he knew—be it godly intuition or otherwise—would be your last. One week. The door to his quaint little mortal home flew open and he took a briefcase with him. The idea that someone else would plan what very possibly could be the last funeral you would ever had rubbed him in all of the wrong ways. Nearly five millennia, give or take, of knowing your soul all for your last lifetime to amount in you not even remembering him… The thought was too much to bear. Maybe there was still time. Still time for him to try to get your memories back. To keep you awake and away from eternal slumber. ੈ✩‧₊˚  Standing in the doorway, you looked much weaker than you had been three days ago when you came into the funeral parlor a sobbing mess. Despite having the happy glow back, your general attitude felt more… tired. Like you’d run a marathon and was ready to go home and relax. Morax supposed that in a bit of an abstract way, you had. “Oh! Mr. Zhongli. I didn’t expect you to be here…” you said, the awkwardness was evident. Unavoidable. Morax had always prided himself on being able to keep a professional manner towards clients but… “Yes, I came to apologize… the way I acted was completely out of character for me. I do wish to assist you in--” “Planning my own funeral… yeah…” “Precisely.” “Well, uh… I guess we can get to work? Let me go clean myself up and you can tell me the plan?” “That sounds like a good idea to me.” You stepped to the side a bit like a deer just learning to walk. “Well, uh, come in and make yourself at home. I’ll only be a moment. Would you like a cup of tea?” “I’m alright, thank you.” “Wine?” you laughed, and Morax found himself cracking a smile. “You may want to save that for the viewing.” “Ah, of course, how could I forget,” you giggled. It sounded like a wind chime. Morax’s eyes watched your form disappear into another room. Yet it felt like your presence lingered. The old couch he found himself perched upon appeared to have been from a hand-me-down store. In fact, most of the furniture appear to be second-hand. He stared at a stain on the couch that had appeared to have been through the wringer of cleaning supplies. His finger traced it. It was an old stain. In previous lifetimes, Morax made sure to always find your vessel and ensure you lived a comfortable life. In a way, he felt like he was still able to love you, without actually having to put you through the pain of remembering all of the previous lifetimes—and with the pain of knowing you would never live to see the age of forty with those memories of your shared lives together. Yet it seemed that for the past few lifetimes, he was unable to find your vessel. There was no exact way to calculate how many reincarnations he’d missed—it could be decades before your soul found a vessel, sometimes it was mere months. Then there was the issue of vessels being mortal. Despite not being cursed to die at forty, the vessel still very much could succumb to mortal diseases, injuries, and the like. All of these variables made it near impossible to calculate exactly how many iterations of you had to live in anything less than luxury Thinking of his lover living in anything less than luxury made his heart feel heavy. How many lifetimes had it been you were forced to live without knowing the comforts of a soft bed? Of not having to worry about where the next meal came from? “I’m ready—“ Morax snapped out of his daze. “—Ah uh… sorry. I know it’s all a bit of a mess. I’ve tried so dang hard to get that thing out of that couch but nothing works.” “I see.” Now you seemed embarrassed now. “Uh—well—do you want to sit outside?” “Wherever you are most comfortable.” “Right—then um… this way,” you motioned. Just up the hill was a small tea kiosk. The old man smiled with a sense of familiarity and wordlessly served two cups of a sweet smelling tea. You tapped the table with your index and middle finger twice and the man reached across, patting you on the head. The man retreated away to a small stove away from the kiosk, where a few tables had been set up and other patrons laughed merrily. “So… there are three rites that I want to make sure happen, I guess. The Rite of Peace, the Rite of Release… and the Rite of Apology…” “Apology? I don’t think you have anything to apologize for…” “Yes… it’s just… um. I don’t know. I feel like I need to. For dying so young before I could contribute anything to Liyue.” “I see…” said Morax, but he really didn’t. Plenty of people died young. Usually they would participate in the Rite of Love, in order to inspire the others around them to live a life filled with love to compensate for the love they were not able to give. Rite of Apology usually only occurred for the criminal who had done much wrong in their life and wanted to set things right with their Archon before they passed. Morax inwardly reveled at the irony. The Rite of Apology was an apology of the dying to him, as he was the Archon of Liyue, yet in this one situation, the offending party was him. He’d make sure that he set things right. He’d reconnect your soul to your vessel and if his theory was correct, it would fortify your soul and allow it to keep living on until he could love you the way he should’ve been this whole time He’d do it right this time.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

A week had passed. A week of trying to get you to remember. And finally, here. Now. It was paying off. In the warmth of his home, his room, with you so close to his heart there was no way you wouldn’t remember your shared past. The two of you lie bare before each other, you curled into his pale chest as he held his arms protectively around you. A thin sheen of sweat remained on your forehead, and the thin sheet did little to protect the curving form of your body from Morax’s loving gaze. Trailing that curve with his fingers, Morax once more buried his face in the duvet between your neck and shoulder, whispering your name—your true name—like a prayer, “I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered, teeth grazing over the soft parts of your shoulder, the tip of his tongue experimentally darting out every now and again. As it clicked, however, you were tense. You said your true name like a question and sat frozen as a statue, pushing against his shoulders to get him off your body. “Is that… your wife?” If you listened hard enough, you could hear the sound of Morax’s heart shattering into a million pieces. Together in the moonlight, your hair, which was in a clean bun before, fell around your shoulders and protected your quickly tear-staining cheeks from Morax’s prying eyes. He couldn’t help himself. He truly thought that this would’ve fixed it. It should’ve fixed it. It should’ve been fine. You would’ve have spent this last week together and you would remember. Your soul would be strong enough to pass onto another vessel, at least once. Then he’d love you as he was duty-bound to do. Like he should’ve been for the last several centuries. “Who is she?” You didn’t remember. He was too late… “Zhongli?” “Morax.” “Morax?” “My name is Morax. The Geo Archon. God of Contracts” “That’s a new one. Not many men who get caught cheating pull the ‘I’m actually a god’ card.” “It’s the truth.” “I don’t believe you.” Morax’s eyes narrowed and he allowed himself to take on his original form. The horns of a qilin and the dragon’s tail sprouted out of his human form. Suddenly, he felt vulnerable again. He was once more neither fully Rex Lapis, the untouchable Geo Archon of Liyue, nor was he Zhongli, the oddly wise funeral consultant of Wangsheng Parlor. He was the god who fell in love with a mortal soul, who was destined to haunt his existence for eternity. The reckless young god only recently awakened and sent to Teyvat. “You are her. Your soul is at least.” “I don’t understand.” “Your soul has been in many vessels. This form… it is your most recent,” Morax explained, and his heart cracked a bit more as you pulled away from him. “So… this isn’t the first time I’ve known you?” “No… but… I fear it may very well be the last.” “What do you mean?” “You’ve been growing weaker. It’s… my own fault. For many millennia, there has been two constants in Liyue. One, is my presence here. Two, was your soul reincarnating into different vessels. Cursed to live a life cut short at the age of forty, before coming back and doing it all over again…” “So… when you said that it was you… that should’ve been doing the Rite of Apology instead of me… what you really meant was—“ “—that I was sorry… because it is my fault you’re dying.” “But there’s no way you could’ve—“ “I knew. I was purposefully avoiding falling in love with you for the last few lifetimes because I… I suppose I was scared. Like you said in your letter. I was scared of loving someone knowing that they would have to leave me.” You were quiet, and even the creaking house grew still at the shared silence. “So… you just… decided to try to stop loving me?” “In order to ensure you lived happy lifetimes? To stop having to go through the pain of losing you over and over? Yes.” He admitted and saw the glassy tears in your eyes, “But… I see now that decision might’ve not been the best course of action. Because now I’m going to lose you forever.” You were quiet again, processing. He could see the gears turning. Trying to connect wires and fill in the blank spaces. But it’s impossible to fill in the blank spaces of memories when the memories themselves are not even accessible. Finally, you spoke. “Do you love me?” “More than anything.” “Then… if this is the last time I’ll see you… I’d like to ask a favor.” “Anything.” “Could… could you just hold me? For these last few moments?” Morax didn’t say anything, but simply wrapped you up in his arms. The end was in sight. The light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel was beginning to shine through. Your body grew weaker by the minute, and in turn, so did your soul. Yet as he lie next to you in the comfort of his home, in his bed, he didn’t feel the grief he had in previous iterations of you. In nearly five millennia of existence with each other, it was this last week that ended up meaning the most. “Do you think there’s an afterlife?” “For you? Yes… your soul will be able to go on and finally rest in Finality… I however… will remain here until Celestia calls me back to rejoin their ranks. There I will lie dormant until I am needed again,” Morax said, tracing patterns on your skin. “Why is that?” “Because I am of the race of gods. And you are are the race of men.” You turned onto your side, looking into Morax’s deep amber eyes. Morax wondered what you found there. “You say that I’m… this woman, your wife, but I don’t have any memories of these past lives. You said that past vessels of me would remember, right?” “Yes, but I believe since your soul is so weak from the lifetimes of my neglect… it is too late,” Morax responded, “—it was my own fault that I let you slip through my fingers again. It’s always the same story. I love you, and then I lose you.” “But this time…” Morax nodded, “This time it will be permanent.” You shifted onto your back once more. Looking up at the ceiling blankly. Morax could only stare at the soft outline of your features, memorizing each soft curve of your cheek, the angular jut of your nose. The way one side of your lips tugged up asymmetrically when you smiled. He tried to commit each feature to memory. To engrave the scene before him on his heart. “…I’m glad you found me again.” “I am too.” “I think I’m ready to go to sleep… I’ll—” a yawn, your eyes closed slowly as your breathing stilled, “—I’ll see you… when I wake up…” “…I’ll be right here when you do.” You smiled again before eyes shutting your completely. Your chest rose once more, before collapsing gently, never to take another breath. Morax closed his eyes, and the last thing you felt was droplets of sorrow from the god’s eyes. “Sleep well, my love… I love you... and--I’m sorry…”

#zhongli x reader #morax x reader #genshin impact #genshit #no beta we die like rex lapis #angst #angst no comfort #tw death #morax #reader #zhongli

[idontknowanametouse]

Genshin cringe headcanons part 6: Liyue teens

This post reclaims the term "cringe". If you use it as an insult or is triggered by it, please DNI

-

Name: Chongyun

Gender: transmasc demiboy, he/they/ice/ghost

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, has albinism, white hair dyed light blue, blue eyes.

Age: 16

Sexuality: asexual gay

Personality: optimistic, introvert, easily exciting, naive, does not understand lies, sarcasm or jokes.

Area of greatest ability: exorcism, books

Likes: ghost stories, snow, small mamallians, cold tea, Xiangling's food (the non-spicy one)

Dislikes: pranks, not seeing ghosts, being "drunk" with ices yang energy

Fears/triggers: big animals, being alone, needles

Kins: winter, shiny things, soft stuff, light blue, marbles, paint

Family: Shenhe (biological aunt) Xianyun (adoptive grandmother)

Relationship status: dating Xingqiu

Friends: Xiangling, Hu Tao, Yanfei, Gaming, Qiqi, Baizhu, Itto, Yelan, Tartaglia

Disabilities: autistic, ADD, fibromyalgia

Belief: believes Rex Lapis and has taoist-like practices

-

Name: Xiangling Maö

Gender: cis girl, she/her

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, black, chubby, spoon-kind body, black eyes, braided curly black hair, burn scars on her hands and arms

Age: 14

Sexuality: abroromantic, greyromantic, asexual

Personality: easily exciting, very forgiving, naive, extrovert, may be invasive without knowing

Area of greatest ability: cooking

Likes: travelling on the Crux, making food for her friends and family, getting/hunting new ingredients, onion, fried crystalflies

Dislikes: being limited by other people, when people are rude

Fears/triggers: dying from cold, losing Guoba

Kins: bear, fire, food, cherry blossoms

Family: Wanmin (biological dad) madam Ping (adoptive grandma) Yaoyao (biological little sister) Yanfei (adoptive cousin)

Relationship status: single

Friends: Chongyun, Gaming, Hu Tao, Xingqiu, Beidou, Ganyu, Xinyan, Thoma, Tartaglia

Disabilities: ADHD, dyspraxia, Guoba acts as a service animal and helps her on day to day tasks

Belief: believes Rex Lapis and has taoist-like practices

-

Name: Yanfei

Gender: trans girl, she/it

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, white skin, pink hair, black eyes, dark circles, vitiligo

Age: 16

Sexuality: asexual lesbian

Personality: just, ludical, daydreamer, idealistic, easily exciting, sometimes way too anxious

Area of greatest ability: knowing of the law

Likes: studying the penal code, insects, playing with its hair, reading, tofu

Dislikes: showing off her body, fishing, cold food, when bad people pay their way out of their responsabilities

Fears/triggers: being called a freak, yelling, being abandoned

Kins: sand, clay, antlers, books, fire

Family: Xiangling, Yaoyao (adoptive cousins) Wanmin (adoptive uncle) Ping (adoptive great-aunt)

Relationship status: dating Hu Tao

Friends: Itto, Shinobu, Xingqiu, Gaming, Yelan, Chongyun, Qiqi, Ganyu, Xianyun, Shenhe, Eula, Heizou

Disabilities: autistic, chronic back pain, insomnia, fibromyalgia

Belief: believes Rex Lapis and has taoist-like practices

-

Name: Hu Tao

Gender: transfem demigirl, she/they/it/ghost/xe/spooky/he

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, dark skin, black hair, brown eyes, thin

Age: 15

Sexuality: asexual lesbian

Personality: playful, peculiar, excentrical, morbid, respectful, caring for every living being, considered weird

Area of greatest ability: funerals

Likes: wax, going to the hills on ghosts own, studying plants, poetry, learning other nations' funerary practices, helping ghosts, steamed fish, prawn dumplings, singing, dancing

Dislikes: qingxin slime, sitting still, being yelled at by other people, people who are rude to her friends

Fears/triggers: not being loved, being considered a freak by those he loves

Kins: ghosts, clay, hilichurls, autumn, halloween, red, calligraphy, stones, butterflies, skeletons, coffins, bath bombs

Family: biological grandpa, Zhongli (adoptive dad) Xiao, Ganyu, Xinyan, Qiqi (adoptive siblings) Childe (found family)

Relationship status: dating Yanfei

Friends: Xiangling, Xingqiu, Chongyun, Gaming, Albedo, Klee, Venti, Shenhe, Xianyun, Kazuha, Furina

Disabilites: autistic, hyperactive, hypermobile

Belief: even though she doesn’t necessairely care about Rex Lapis, he believes him and has taoist-like practices on spookys day-to-day life

-

Name: Xingqiu

Gender: transmasc boyflux, he/they/xe/Knight/write/one/ey/she

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, white skin, black hair dyed dark blue, brown eyes

Age: 15

Sexuality: gay

Personality: polite, curious, playful, masks caring with an elite-like mannerism.

Area of greatest ability: writing

Likes: going to Wanwen bookstore, stags, rabbits, reading, pranks, baked goods

Dislikes: being at home and/or with eys family, carrots, taking responsabilities that are not knights own

Fears/triggers: Shenhe, crying in public, being weak

Kins: cherry blossoms, gold, dark academia, water, books, dark blue, coffee

Family: Yelan (cousin)

Relationship status: dating Chongyun

Friends: Baizhu, Gaming, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Childe, Xiangling, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yun Jin, Zhongli, Albedo, Kokomi

Disabilities: autistic, ADD, chronic fatigue

Belief: is agnostic

-

Name: Gaming Yip

Gender: pangender, any pronouns

Pictures of Character:

Appearance: ethnically chinese, brown skin, brown eyes, brown hair, muscled, burn scars

Age: 17

Sexuality: pansexual

Personality: energic, ethical, excentric, friendly, kind, independent.

Area of greatest ability: dancing, Fighting

Likes: being with Man Chai and his friends, herbs tea, sweets, helping others, being accepted as who she truly is

Dislikes: not having enough many, food with way too much seasoning, horror stories, not having their dreams validated, having nightmares with Celestia

Fears/triggers: not being accepted, Celestia

Kins: has no kins, but supports his friends who do

Family: biological father, Xianyun (found family aunt)

Relationship status: single

Friends: Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yun Jin

Disabilities: ADHD

Beliefs: has taoist-like practices

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact #chongyun #xiangling #yanfei #hu tao #xingqiu #gaming

[lysithiasystem]

Marci how do u feel about being kin-assigned Lapis Lazuli?

He smiled a lil bit and said: "Ah, well, not the worst thing I've been kinassigned, certainly."

#marcire.txt

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: Koi no Yokan

Helix has one weakness. And also another.

Song: Tell Me Baby-RHCP

@cardwrecks​ @captainbaddecisions​

The energy of this place! Electricity in every inch, flowing, buzzing leylines of enslaved lightning, the movement of lights a rainbow in darkness. People in masses, composite organisms, breathing, pulsing in time with the music, a thudding memory of ancestors heartbeats. The building respired, air in constant movement, the throats in the walls struggling to overcome the lungs of the people. The building lived, and the energy filled her up, vibrant antiquity, the ancient ritual of music and dance.

A little too much, actually.

The bouncers didn't know she was here, though she stood out in sartorial anachronism, rockabilly flair in a sea of candy acid vogue. She had entered through a door of a different kind, and the night life had hit her like a sonic brick.

YJ had spoken so highly...she had to find someplace away for a moment, away from the sound, the resonance thrumming in her bones, the weakness, the nemesis. YJ wouldn't have known that 'club' meant something different to her, alcohol and smoke, billiards and leather backed chairs, high bred men challenging themselves and each other, wasn't that what a Riddler was? YJ and Arkham, Puzzles and the Detective, she'd grown to expect predatory quiet in the homes and presences of the viridian men. Not safety, and not silence exactly, but not these auditory attacks.

There were side rooms to disappear into, before noise overcame her, three people exiting one. They didn't see her, though she slipped in so close behind them as to brush skirts. With walls between her and the pumping symphonic tide, she could reinforce herself before facing that battlefield once more.

A breath. Two breaths. She was substantial. She was concrete. She would not have her atoms stripped away by stepping back out into that solar wind of sound. She had come here to meet someone.

There was a man.

Watermelon stripes. Grape soda. Tinted sunglasses indoors. Summer, this man was Summer.

A trickle of gold flowed down his throat, terminated in an inquiry. The symbol, the sigil, the sign!

He regarded her with the same amused curiosity that must be echoing in her own face, stood-to speak? To rebuke? To welcome? Who could know, who could know, so different this one, and the energy here, just beneath the floor, just behind the walls, it spiked as the dozen eyes on the ceiling focused on her, it spiked and it was her focus now, and he smiled-

Deep lapis inset ivory, brass filament in amber flesh, more precious for the flaws trapped within. Long sinuous lines, vines, emeralds and amethysts dripping from his shoulders, like all his kin. A greeting, a voice, irreverent velvet burnout, coumarin and black dammar flowing thick and sticky. And the magic! She could smell it here, he'd been touched by it like all the others, moulded and cracked by the whimsy of Gray beings alien even to her, deep down inside him, a festering bubo of plum wine and bitters.

“Hey there cutie, you all right?”

And she was solid again, fixed with a tack to the wall of the Here and Now. He gazed down at her, the lapis dusting her form, quiet blades picking her apart just as she had done to him. The others had all expressed that this one was different, but hadn't elaborated. Neon and alcohol, glitter and decadence, hedonism as a varnish, a temple of Dyonisian mystery. Not in a thousand worlds would she have expected Edward Nigma to be this.

It was delightful.

“I'm...fine. Yes. Mildly disoriented, nothing more.” It was true, she had returned to herself.

He leaned, casual, calculating against a couch. She was outside of arms reach, but not the legs, no. Nobody had mentioned danger in regards to him, but then, she hadn't been warned about Arkham either.

A rite of passage, a hazing for those who would dare. Survive the challenge of meeting the Patriarch.

She had.

“How bout'cha sit down? Room ain't reserved again tonight.”

She took a seat, took in the room. Couches, mismatched in a way that complemented, a little raised stage with a pillar in the center, power coating like bright honey...pole, it was a pole on the stage. Oh. Yes that explained the molasses thick energy that permeated the place. Certain things, ancient things, caused power to pool. Sex and death, music and dance, blood and light, all built up like layers of stone, ready to be mined by those who could. He sat on the edge of the stage, light sheen of sweat just barely discernible on his face.

“So...you a little lost? You needin' a place to rest until you sober up? I know the place has a reputation, but we do have rules here. If it's the hard stuff, well, you can lay down for a little while and I wont say nothin', but you don't come in here with it again. If you need help though, I can point you in the right direction.”

“You're Swag.” she said.

“And you're not high...are you? So who wants to know?”

“Helix.”

A spark, a star in the lapis. Recognition.

“Hey girl, I was wondering when you were gonna show up! I was beginning to feel left out.”

“You know of me?” But why wouldn't they talk? Family was meant to communicate.

“Heard a thing or two. A pesterer of Puzzles, a wyrdling to YJ, an...adversary of Arkham? Nah.” he shook his head, a sardonic grin. “Nah, you don't wanna be that. But yeah. There have been a few words said about you. Mostly 'How the hell did she get in here?' So. How the hell did you get in here?”

“I walked.” she said, and his look was a gentle abrasion. “I...walked. The membranes between worlds open in multiversal osmosis, and I walk. I'm...sorry. Loud noises...fray me. It's hard to think. The energy is overstimulating.”

“Take your time.”

She did. Eventually the strumming on her synapses ceased, the threads of reality cementing.

An offering of water. She hadn't noticed that he had left. That was...odd. How could anybody lose track of this man? She drained the cup.

“So you walked here. Care to say where from? It's kinda a long way from Detective's neck of the woods to here. Figuratively and literally.”

Where did he fall on the pendulum swing? Yj closer to Detective, Puzzles closer to Arkham...Center ground? So many people reveling beyond the door, relishing life. No traps here. No riddles. Questions, not riddles.

“I walk, figuratively and literally. Meeting the Detective was a happy accident. I come from further than that. You're Aware? Of the multiplicity of self? The mitosis of the multiverse?”

He nodded slowly.

“Became aware a li'l while ago. Prolly about the same time Arkham and Detective became aware of each other. I...assume this is unusual, since there's nothing in history mentioning...huh, I wonder if that's where the legends of doppelgangers come from...”

“Maybe.” Oh, he was as quick as his soul-kin, scalpel sharp in cotton gauze. But he had the respect of Matriarch and Patriarch alike, how could anything else be expected?

“It may be a new development. I haven't seen its like before. It's so easy to move here, in this Nexus. Even you native souls can move back and forth, if you know the places.”

“And you're not? Native to the...Nexus?”

“I'm from further away.”

The seed of doubt spread cotyledons in his face. It was worse than not being understood. Being disbelieved.

“I'm from Earth.” she pressed further. “Just not this one, nor any other within this tangle. From further out.”

“I was bouta ask why you sounded like you came from Central City if you really were from 'outside', but...just from a far away Earth, huh? How far does it go?”

“Long way. Couldn't ever explore them all. More and more different, the further one goes. I'm from very far away.”

He clicked his tongue, accepting her words, if maybe not her meaning.

“Ehhh, what can I say? I know a woman who is half plant. There's an alien in upstate New York. I've met six separate me's. Things can always get weirder.”

It was an acceptable concession. He continued to watch her. She supposed it hadn't been the most stunning first impression, showing her weakness like this, but it was better than it had been with Puzzles.

Come to think of it, she had seen this man before, a terrified satellite at Puzzles funeral. In the focus on that hideous rebirth, she'd barely noticed, but there had been another fellow with him, and a ring on his hand, but both were conspicuous in their current absence.

'Nothing lasts forever' was a truth she'd had to grapple with far too often, a platitude useless until after the loss had occurred. She sympathized, for whatever that was worth.

She might have gone quiet for too long, because he reached out as if to steady her, pulling back before actually touching. She caught a whiff of pine heavy cologne, margarita lime mix.

“You're sure, you're all right? You need someplace quieter?”

“I'm fine, really. So this place is yours. Your business?” It seemed strange for a Riddler, but this was a strange Riddler. One who hadn't yet so eagerly tried to show off, or challenge, or prove his own intellect. Even friendly YJ, even the gentle Detective, all had tried to demonstrate something of their mental prowess within mere minutes of meeting her.

“Yep. All above board too. I went straight a while ago. Well, as straight as someone like me can go.” He said with a cheeky wink.

Ridiculous. She couldn't help but to smile back.

“The others said you were different.”

He snorted in laughter.

“I'll just bet they did! How many times did the term 'degenerate freak' show up?”

She tilted her head. Self-depreciation dribbled from his sunken eyes. It fit him poorly.

“Not once. Do you not know that you're loved?”

The surprise, the consternation lasted a Planck length, then disappeared back into easeful allure. But he was watching her now, really watching with that languid, snakelike regard they all shared.

“Well.” he said. “Do you?”

The biomachine moving in uncharted ways. Multiversal syzygy. Swirling islimi progression entwining with centrifugal tessellation. There was something to be built here.

“There is no one left who can. But maybe I'm talking too much. Saying without thinking.”

“No, no.” he leaned forward, weathered smile, shining satin teeth. “Keep talking.”

artist: me

artist: verticalthoughts(deactivated)

Artist: @cardwrecks​

#shards of the nexus #Swag!Riddler #Riddler Family

[cavalierious-whim]

Heroes of Old

Childe, a Harbinger of the Round table, is sent to a small town in Liyue to hunt down the dragon known as Rex Lapis. Written for Eclipse, a Tartali AU Zine.

Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter and Blue Sky.

This was a sponsored prompt; if you're interested in sponsoring one yourself, you can find the info here on my Ko-Fi account under the Commission tab.

At the moment, my written work is my only source of income whilst I'm between jobs. Other ways that you can support can be found below-- even if HALF of my followers on Twitter follow my $1 Tier on Patreon, it'd be life-changing income for me, so if you love my work, please consider it!

You can purchase Digital PDFs of some of my works here on Gumroad.

Pre-Orders for physical books of selected works are still open for preorder in my Big Cartel Shop here.

And you can follow my Patreon here as well!

--

“It is a simple matter for one such as yourself.” The Tsaritsa pauses, flicking away a spot of ice that curls around her wrist. “Far to the south lies a village in need. They say that Morax has risen again, terrorizing their home with his cruel, golden-eyed gaze.”

A preposterous idea to most but one that makes Childe’s blood sing. The challenge is too good, pulling and plucking at his being, calling to him with a subtle swan song that sets his veins on fire. But, he cannot seem too eager in the face of his god. 

“Morax,” he starts, still unable to stop the curve to his grin. “That seems unlikely.”

“I feel it in the ley lines.” The Tsaritsa drags a sharp nail across the arm of her throne. “Like calls to like, as they say, and we are kin in the way that we are both children of Celestia. I feel the way his blood boils, I can taste it on the wind.”

He lifts his chin confidently. “When do I set out?”

“Immediately. There is no time to waste.”

Childe falls to his knee easily, a practiced motion that he’s done time and time again. One hand over his chest plate, the gentle dip of his head—all to lay himself bare before the Queen Beloved. 

In return, she sends him off without a word.

#

Far to the south is the reaches of Liyue where the people work until their backs are bent and their fingers bleed.

Childe stands at the edge of Qingce Village, tapping his boot against the ground. He is out of place here, wearing the full armor of a Harbinger of the Round Table, helmet tucked under his arm. He takes a step forward and a child runs away on skittish feet. Another watches him from behind a crate, eyes wide with wonder as she peeks over her fingers. Adults step around him with wary, suspicious gazes, fleeting around his side at no less than ten paces. 

Something is off. These people do not want him here. Childe presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he thinks. If they have not called him here, then who? The Tsaritsa, he knows, must have taken matters into her own hands, perhaps because this village was too stubborn to ask for help.

But these people do not look scared. They whisper Morax’s name in awe behind soil-stained hands. 

There is a tugging at his side, near his waist. Childe’s face tips down to find a boy staring back, face round with wide, chubby cheeks. He tugs again and says, “Sir Harbinger, right?”

Childe dips low, kneeling until they are the same height. He reaches out and ruffles the boy’s hair, who sputters, cheeks tinting red. “Do you like knights?”

The boy nods. And then he says, “Wuwang Hill, just where the mountain crests and the stone turns dark.”

“Wuwang Hill?”

“It is where he waits for you. The Consultant. Said he’d give me one hundred Mora for passing on the message—but he forgot.” The boy then waits expectantly, hand held out, flat and steady. 

Childe huffs, shoves a hand into his purse, and pulls out a glittering golden coin. He twirls it around with a flourish and the boy reaches, but his fingers just graze it as Childe tugs it back. “A moment,” he says, flashing a second coin. “Another if you answer a question.”

The boy nods greedily, fingers itching to take the gold. 

“Right, then. Tell me—are you not afraid of Morax?”

The boy squirms at the mention of the old dragon’s name. “Lord Morax saves us,” he says simply. Childe swallows this knowledge down, mulling over it. Then he drops both coins into his grimy little hand, and then adds a third because he pities him.

“Wuwang Hill,” says the boy again, “where the shadows creep and darkness lurks.”

Childe ruffles his hair and laughs. He doesn’t believe in fairytales. These rural folk are the ones that breathe life into them, insistent with their old superstitions. 

#

At the top of Wuwang Hill, Childe is greeted by a glowing gate that leads straight to the Abyss. 

He hisses, hiding his nose in the crook of his elbow. The acrid tang of sweat, rust, and metal fills his nose; but it is better than the reek of rot and death. Even now, it tugs at him. The Abyss. He wants to go to it, sinking back into the depths that he once called home—

“I expect our meetings to take place on time in the future.”

Childe freezes. It’s hard to tear his gaze away from the gate, but he manages. The Consultant is a tall, thin man, his wispy, finely-boned limbs hidden by rough-spun robes. He stands there, primly, hands held behind his back. Solid as stone, feet planted into the ground, entirely unbothered by the Abyssal taint that surrounds them. 

“I apologize. I was surprised by the village’s… lack of concern for the matter at hand.”

The Consultant sighs at that. “Legends are legends—they get handed around. It is natural to think your Tsaritsa would be worried.”

Your Tsaritsa. “That’s the sort of blasphemous talk that I usually handle,” drawls Childe. It is no secret that his hand is swift when it comes to cutting out the tongues of those who speak ill.

“Ah. Apologies, then. I didn’t mean to offend.” The Consultant seems uncaring about his lack of propriety. 

Childe is a Harbinger, he deserves respect, but— “You’re in luck, then,” he says instead, surprising himself. “The only head I was told to bring back was that of Morax himself.”

The Consultant does something strange, then. He smiles, a wry thing that crinkles the edges of his eyes and makes him look older and wiser, and perhaps even dangerous. It is not the smile of a normal man, it is serpentine as his teeth peek out from rosy lips. “A pity,” he says.

“For Morax?”

“For you.” The Consultant does not elaborate, he just waves him over, and like a moth to a flame, Childe goes without restraint. 

The Consultant gestures to the gate. “You likely cannot see it, but there is a seal—”

“I can see it.”

The Consultant pauses, head tilted to the side. “Interesting,” he murmurs, tapping his chin in thought. His eyes are golden and they watch Childe with newfound interest. “Ah, right—the seal. While effective, it is old, and like most things, will break down. It is only a matter of time now.”

“What is your point?”

“This is what the Tsaritsa should be concerned about, not Morax. He is spending his time trying to find a solution—” Childe bursts into laughter and the Consultant stops. “Have I said something funny?”

“Only implied that Morax is actually alive and well.” Even if the Tsaritsa had been convinced, Childe was and still is, not. The Consultant looks amused. “Look,” continues Childe, waving to the gate. “I’m not here for that. If you can just point me in the direction of Morax then I can do my job and get out of here.”

“If you kill Morax, this village will die. Karma rots this gate and once the Abyss is unleashed, it’ll only seep into the land. You’re a Harbinger, correct? You know what that does.”

Childe does. He’s seen plains turn to blistering hot deserts, and skies that are choked with dusk and smoke. Once the rot seeps in and karma lays waste, there is no coming back from it—and there are no gods left to reverse the damage like in the days of old. He’s hunted most of them down.

The Consultant sighs again. “Morax will likely choose to challenge you. He doesn't like his name being tarnished. As to when that will be—well, you might just have to be patient.” He tugs at his robes, distracting himself. “In the meantime—are you hungry? Miss Xiangling is no doubt nearly done with the night’s dinner.”

Childe blinks. “Are you asking me on a date?” The only thing that Childe dates is death itself. 

The Consultant blinks back and laughs dryly. “I do think that I am merely being a gracious host.”

For once, Childe is embarrassed, turning pink with sheepishness. But, at least the Consultant doesn’t hold it against him. 

#

Days stretch into weeks, and there is no sight of Morax.

It matters not how often Childe asks—at the mere mention of him, The Consultant derails the thought. 

“Ah, but Zhongli,” says Childe with far more familiarity than most would see fit. “Morax was a man of distinction in war-time—”

“The Primordial Jade-Winged Spear,” cuts in Zhongli. He nods towards a boulder in the center of the village. A slightly bent lance sticks out from it, the blade smelted into the rock. “Morax crafted this with his own hands in order to quell the raging of the sea beast Baqiu.”

“Oh did he?”

“So the stories say. It waits for a new hero worthy of it.”

At first, Zhongli’s verbose utterances about the past irritated him. Childe does not sit idle; he is a man of action, quick with his blade and cruel with his might, and as a Harbinger it is his job to hunt down the gods of old in Celestia’s name. Morax made his bed by leaving Celestia and blaspheming her name before melting away into nothing but memories. But Zhongli’s words have needled deep. It is weeks later, now,  and Childe leans into his baritone timbre, far too interested in the mythos of a place that isn’t even his home.

They share meals and tea. They take long walks where they knock shoulders together, and Zhongli drones on about everything and nothing. Childe should be concerned with Morax, not that crumbling Abyssal gate, and what it might do to this sleepy village. He should be dreaming of a god’s head in his hands, not how soft Zhongli’s lips might be if pressed against his.

Zhongli nudges Childe gently with an elbow. “I figured this would appeal to you, considering the hero that you are.”

“I’m no hero,” says Childe. A Harbinger is just a bully that wears the skin of one.

Zhongli watches him for a long moment before saying, “Let’s continue, then, shall we? I won’t bore you with the details of this old thing anymore.”

Childe almost forgets about Morax in favor of the heat of Zhongli’s hand when he grasps him by the elbow. It isn’t until Childe nearly forgets about His Queen Beloved that he realizes just how much trouble he’s in.

#

“Ajax.”

Childe jerks awake at the sound of Zhongli hissing his given name. His room is empty. The sheets next to him are unrumpled. He slept alone that night, cold in the soft-spun silk in Zhongli’s absence. He is bereft for a moment, his fingers curling into those sheets, and then he remembers that hiss in his ear. 

Something is wrong. Darkness clings to Childe. It coats his skin, thick and oily; cawls down his throat, trying to sink in deep, drowning him in icy hatred. Outside his borrowed room, the town is on high alert. He hears yelling, shouting, and the clanging of metal. It’s then that Childe’s focus sharpens.

The Abyss. 

“Ajax!” Zhongli’s voice again, slicing through the air like a whip crack. 

Childe jerks into action, tossing on some trousers and tugging the first shirt he can find over his head before throwing himself outside.

The seal must’ve broken. Abyssal taint creeps down the mountainside and threatens to sweep the village. People run around crazed and Childe stands there, stock still. 

The darkness, that’s what you are. Come home.

“No,” murmurs Childe, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Home is—”

In this quiet village, tucked away in Liyue, where the people have warmed to him despite being a red-haired devil. At the side of Zhongli who speaks in fancy words in dulcet tones. Childe’s heart lurches as he licks his lips.

The spear. It’s the dumbest idea he’s ever had but Childe darts through the square in desperation. I

Zhongli is in the middle of the fray, hands curled around his own lance, twirling it around with expert ease. Childe should be more surprised but he isn’t. There’s always been something about the man, something barely off—

Ajax, whispers that second voice. It strikes cold dread into his heart, unlike the warmth the Zhongli’s call breeds. 

“No,” he mutters, pushing away.

Like calls to like, you are one with us, don’t you remember?

Childe does but he’d rather protect Qingce Village. The spear is cold underneath his fingers as he yanks. Metal screeches as it slides from the stone. 

Zhongli turns, eyes narrowed, his gaze tracking the length of him. Childe stares at the weapon in his hands, marveling at how natural it feels there, how easily it slid from the stone as if it finds his palm home. 

It waits for a new hero worthy of it.

“Ajax, move—”

Childe barely ducks in time. He’s a magnet. The Abyss seeks out what it’s lost and it wants to claim him again. Childe swings the spear around, but it’s only a matter of time before there’s too much to handle. Darkness reaches for him—only for another person to step in the way. 

Fury floods through him. “Zhongli!” he snaps, already striking out again.

Once closer, though, he sees Zhongli’s form ripple before melting away. Antlers crown his head. His hair flows free, whipping in the gales, and obsidian scales glint in the moonlight. He holds a hand out, Geo pulsing above it, and the land around them shifts, quaking with the barest squeeze of his palm. 

Childe remembers something Zhongli said once. 

“I merely care for Liyue, as a father cares for his children.”

Childe’s throat is dry. “M-Morax?”

“Not now, Ajax.”

Suddenly he regrets telling Zhongli his real name, a soft whisper in the night blurted in the throes of hungry passion. “But you—”

“Not now. I have a contract to keep, which is not with you.” Zhongli watches the Abyssal taint that hovers before him, curious. It wavers, hesitating, knowing just who he is. “You were to leave the seal alone,” says Zhongli. “I was always going to have to replace it, but have you forgotten our bargain?”

The Abyss hisses at him, a tendril striking through the air, only to stop dead the moment it smacks against a golden shield. So effortless. The seal couldn’t be repaired easily so Zhongli waited for it to break. “A patch won’t work. The seal is old and decayed, too unstable, and so it will have to be entirely rebuilt.”

Childe should’ve realized. Zhongli has never hidden who he is, only answered the wrong questions asked with mirth in his eyes.

Zhongli sweeps his hand from one side to the other. The Abyss shudders, shrinking in on itself, rearing back as Geo coalesces around it. Zhongli forces it back to the foot of the mountain. His other hand jerks as he cuts a hole into the earth there, creating a new gate. He presses the Abyss right into it with startling ease, then weaves the most intricate seal that Childe’s ever seen. 

It took nothing. Nothing. With the wave of Zhongli’s hand, the Abyss has been forced into a new prison.

When all is said and done, Zhongli lurches, losing his ground. Childe drops the spear and crosses the distance to catch him by the waist. “You—”

Zhongli grunts. “Tired,” he murmurs, pressing his face into Childe’s sweaty nape. And then: “Ajax.”

“I’m… very annoyed.”

Zhongli hums at that, a chuckle spilling from his lips. He braces himself against Childe and finds his footing. Then, he curls a hand around Childe’s neck and presses their foreheads together. His scales prick Childe’s skin. “My hero.”

He is not. “I did nothing. You…”

“This wasn’t your fight—it never was. But, I knew from the moment I saw you that you were destined for more—far more than you can achieve with your Tsaritsa. Later. In the future. I’ll consult with Madame Ping. But first—” Zhongli’s hands are warm against Childe’s face. They butt noses as he shifts. Zhongli’s lips are chapped and his kiss is sweet. “You meant to save me,” he whispers against his mouth. 

“I love you,” replies Childe, realizing where his loyalty now lies.

Zhongli’s chest rumbles in delight. “This old dragon is pleased,” he says before seeking out his lips once more.

#Cavalierious Fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin #childe/zhongli #tartaglia/zhongli #tartali

[watatsumiis]

self ship assumptions:

1) you would let ayato bite you to get your attention (he is a little bit feral to me but perhaps i am biased/projecting as an ayato/zhongli kin* myself)

*i use this word very loosely i mostly mean i relate to them very very much

2) you would steal capitano's helmet if given the opportunity (assuming he has spares and it wouldn't hurt him to not be wearing it for a bit)

3) you would let yae miko impulsively nap on you and perhaps even pet her against your better judgement (she would turn a blind eye at the time because she enjoys it but later she would make it clear that she was aware that you were doing it... and probably tease you for it)

4) i think if you cooked with ayato it would end in horrible disaster (but you'd have fun probably); if you cooked with zhongli it would be a very soothing experience and you'd come out with a plethora of new knowledge and the food would be delicious, but it would be a full 12 hours to make one batch of dumplings (source: i made dumplings the other day and it took me 8 full hours)

5) I think you could convince Zhongli to nap in your lap I think you could do that and he'd enjoy it. bonus points for noodleli tiny rex lapis form and he'd let you pet him (even if he's a little confused about it).

(signed, @genshin-projection since it's a sideblog and i can't send asks from a sideblog 😔)

Omg

Omg

WHAT AN ASK TO WAKE UP TO /VPOS !!!! THESE ARE ALL ADORABLE AND ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY TRUE!!!! FERAL AYATO MY BELOVED!!! CAPPY HELMET YES PLEASE!!!!!

I would not be able to help myself from giving Miko pats she just looks very soft 😭 and yeah my cooking skill very much depends on who I'm doing it with HSKDJSKDJ but Ayato and I would definitely make a horrible mess (like one of those couples in some cheesy movie flicking flour on each other KAJDKAJDJS) OH MAN dumplings would be so nice right now but if I had to wait 12 hours. I would cry. Sorry Zhongli every time you turn your back I'm scooping ingredients into my mouth!!! Mhm mhm!!

Id love to have Zhongli nap in my lap!! As long as he can deal with the occasional leg jittery he should be fine :3 AND NOODLELI MY BELOVED HOLDS HIM CLOSE TO MY CHEST BUNDLES HIM UP IN A SOFT ITEM OF CLOTHING KISSES HIM ON THE SNOOT!!!!! he's like a tiny kitty I adore him 😭😭

#WAAAAAAAA this made me smile so much genuinely #Wriggles wriggles #Asks #General barks #Fav #Comfort tag #I don't talk about my self ships on here much but I have SOOOO many feelings #Thank you sosososo much for the ask :D

[theofficersacademy]

Nel Griss Poe Corrin (M) Eldigan Edelgard Lapis Freyja Ivy Lilina

WEEK THREE - August 18th - August 24th

Tag - #SVIlia2023

The village of Reval was supposed to be a sleepy village where people meandered about their lives. If you moved all the way out here, it was because you wanted - or needed - to get away. People mostly minded their own business,

yet community blossomed slowly but surely all the same, for humans are creatures wont to look for somewhere to belong.

This family threatens now to fracture, and violently at that.

The problem? Most of you are part of that family now.

What you know

Ilians don't like the thought of dragons. You've found a dragon. Brynn is confused about the rumours that more of his kin have surfaced. He's been alone a long time.

Lysander is the wealthy owner of Reval, and appears to have bailed out the village after its having fallen on hard times. To him, it's a long-term investment. Also, he is purportedly the one who created the tomes some of you have purchased.

Time slips away from you rather suddenly. Some of you have been exploring for a small eternity. Others have been in the village so long now that you've become part of the family. You're not sure when this happened.

Corrin, Lapis, and Lilina sport simple garb, warm but nothing too fancy - quite similar to what the villagers in Reval wear. Eldigan's donned a set of monk's robes in St. Elimine's fashion, same as Weiss'. Edelgard and Ivy look set to be in command, heavy councillors' robes sweeping the floor. Nel and Poe suit up in a warmer version of Sacae's swordsmen. Griss... Griss looks pretty normal, actually. And as for Freyja, she is trapped in her goat form, and feared by all. She is, however, still family.

The world looks, feels different than how you remember it. It's not as colourful as you remember. You get the impression it's been slowly shifting ever since you arrived, but perhaps it had been too subtle to realize until now.

How much time has passed since you were shipwrecked? A moment ago you might have thought it a mere couple of days, but now it feels like it's been forever.

Villagers continue to go missing all the while. Up until now, you've been lucky enough not to number among them. More people have been whisked away overnight than has ever been recorded prior: the yet injured Lapis and Canna have been vanished, alongside Karev, Nel, Cain, and Eldigan. There does not appear to be any of that strange dust left behind where last they were seen, at least. Poe, Griss, and Ivy haven't been seen in town for... some time now.

What to do

Poppy and Dehlia are absolutely super duper fretting about the third member of their Pegasus Knight Trio being missing, and intend to head out to search immediately.

Lysander remains at the tavern, ever cool as a cucumber - though if you ask him, of course he's worried. What on earth is happening? Can he hire you to look into it? He'll send his dear sister, Weiss, as a guide with you if so.

The mines that were said to be abandoned (and condemned besides) do appear to be rather empty so far - save for a certain Hunter's log alongside a curious sphere. Only one way to find out what else awaits within these caverns.

Karev, Nel, Lapis, and Eldigan awaken to find themselves bound, two each to a cell. It's cold, but not as bad as being outside, one presumes. You feel a bit sluggish. Last night is a blur. Last week, month, year is a blur. What exactly happened...?

You’re not limited to the above. Anything else you’d like to explore, feel free to ping Mod Key. What would your muse do?

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #svilia2023

[pinkegodeath]

YOU LIKE LAND OF THE LUSTROUS, *cough* sorry I’m just so normal about the show, do you have a favorite gem? Thank you!!! I love your art <3

i very obviously enjoy phos (also he's one of my top kins) but my other favorites are also antarc, cinnabar, rutile, jade, padpa, euclase & lapis !! i also enjoy og morga & goshe :]

#asks #hnk #houseki no kuni

[strellunas]

if u had to kin assign martin any su character who would it be and why?

oughh steven (future especially) & lapis for sure & i swear i’m not just saying that bc they’re two of my faves i swear!!!!!!!

steven & his themes of overextending himself & wanting to be the glue / be there for everyone while shoving down his own problems, all the while things are unraveling into cosmic levels of disaster…also mommy issues! but that’s low hanging fruit. how about character wise, how in the earlier parts of the story, they’re not really taken seriously & are neglected as a result. they both undergo an evident amount of change because of the way their social environment treats them in arguably similar ways.

lapis is an easy one too. themes of isolation & loneliness, of going through a period of nothing but abyss & coming out to a world fundamentally changed from the one you knew. creating a divide between yourself & your loved ones, previously emotionally (passive aggression/coldness) before physically cutting yourself off. lapis trapped in the mirror reminds me a lot of s4 martin, where he’s just so alone with only the occasional presence of the one who convinces him to stay there (though for lapis it’s more of an I Literally Can’t Get Out rather than intense manipulation.) maybe i’ll have more to say on this when i listen to s5 but here’s what i got for late night thoughts…

#i just love martin #a lot😵‍💫 #txt

[lint-beetle4]

So... I walked into a list-making phase, so uhh...

The full list and reasons behind their assigned positions is on the bottom, enjoy, because I feel shame and pride in my deed

(The image is titled People I really like/kinned (idk the difference). The list is separated into 3 categories: Purple, purple (by association), and not purple. Pictures of characters are lined up in the list in a certain category.)

Purple:

Future Trunks (DBZ)

Purple Hair

Piccolo (DBZ)

Wears Purple

Gohan (DBZ)

Vibes

Kokichi Ouma (Danganronpa V3)

Have you seen him?

Leone Abbacchio (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo)

Angry purple goth

Moody Blues (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo)

Thicc purple goth

Gyro Zeppeli (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Speed Ball Run)

Vibes,  plus he’s like.. Italian?

Eclipsa (Star Vs. The Forces of Evil)

Royalty, wears purple, vibes; Def Bisexual, so auto purple

Darius (The Owl House)

Have you seen him? He’s gay

Kabuto (Naruto)

Purple son of purple gay

Orochimaru (Naruto)

Gay

Alois Trancy (Black Butler: Season 2)

British, ‘nuff said

Killua Zoldyck (Hunter X Hunter)

His brother is pretty purple-coded, so it’s genetic that he acts a bit purple

Rainbow Quartz 2.0 (Steven Universe)

Rainbow = Gay and Purple

Octavia (MLP)

British and gay

Akito Sohma (Fruits Basket)

Sus, but she’s purple enough due to being a transfem icon

Purple by Association:

Silver the Hedgehog  (Sonic the Hedgehog), associated with Blaze the Cat

Trunks-coded because he’s actually inspired off of Trunks

Shadow the Hedgehog  (Sonic the Hedgehog), associated with Rouge the Bat

Rouge is purple-coded

Knuckles the Echidna  (Sonic the Hedgehog; the Movie, specifically), associated with Rouge the Bat

He has purple eyes too

Hunter (The Owl House), associated with Darius and Luz Noceda

Adopted son of a purple gay

Dirk and Dave Strider (Homestuck), associated with Rose and Roxy Lalonde

Not purple, but they have purple siblings which gives them the cool energy

Narancia Ghirga (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo), associated with Leone Abbacchio

Not purple, but he’s trying

Bruno Buccellati (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo), associated with Leone Abbacchio

He’s blue, but slowly becoming periwinkle 

Johnny Joestar (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Speed Ball Run), associated with Gyro Zeppeli

Also blue, but more than Buccellati; will never be purple, but he’s royalty, so like.. Gay British

Hannah Annafellows (Black Butler: Season 2), associated with Alois Trancy

She actually periwinkle, but Alois forced her to adopt him so it’s a legal thing

Haruhi Fujioka (Ouran Highschool Host Club), associated with Tamaki Suoh

Grey-coded, but Tamaki brings out a little blue and maybe a hint of lavender

Yuki Sohma (Fruits Basket), associated with Akito Sohma

White (the color)-coded all the way, but that makes him even more purple by proxy

Isuzu Sohma (Fruits Basket), associated with Akito Sohma

Brown (the color)-coded but she’s probably towards the pink end of the brown spectrum

Not Purple:

Miles ‘Tails’ Prower (Sonic the Hedgehog)

He’s orange

Ena (Joel G’s Ena)

Lovely, wonder, but not purple

Nine-Tailed Fox (Naruto)

I’m a furry

Ciel Phantomhive (Black Butler)

Blue boy, could be seen as purple, but he doesn’t have the energy

Finnian (Black Butler)

He’s orange

The Collector (The Owl House)

Same as Ena

The Owl Beast (The Owl House)

Same as Nine-Tailed, but ‘I-would-let-her-maul-me-to-death’ kind of furry

Josuke 8 (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Jojolion)

The bubbles de-purpled him

Foo Fighters (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Stone Ocean)

Green

Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe)

Blue, and there’s no cure

Peridot (Steven Universe)

Green, but the purple is sus and somehow in there

Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)

She’s hot, but vampires are canonically red, so no dice

#dragon ball z #the owl house #steven universe #resident evil #ena joel g #naruto #sonic cinematic universe #sonic the hedgehog #black butler #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #fruits basket #danganronpa #star vs the forces of evil #my little brony #hunter x hunter #ouran high school host club #homestuck #kokichi ouma #lady dimitrescu #so many fucking tags #cant tag everything #ugh #color theory