#immortal hanfu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idyllcy · 1 month

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seven, seven, seven || holy matrimony

word count: 3.1k

summary: sacrifice or spouse? immortal or mortal?

On the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year of every decade, a village girl is sacrificed at the foot of a mountain, left to be devoured by the dragon at the tip of the mountain. There is a rumor that above the clouds of the mountain of green, there resides a dragon, sky clear where he lives, his palace made of pure jade and lined with gold, his gates lined with pearls, and his scales as bright as the blue sky. There is a rumor that in the palace, the furniture is made of the finest of woods with cushions made of the finest silk in all of the land. There is a rumor that in the palace, a dragon with purple eyes sits on his throne of gold, asking for a bride on the seventh day of the seventh month every ten years.

On the seventh day of the seventh month of your many years in life, you are put at the base of the mountain in the snow, left to die, adorned from head to toe in red robes symbolizing your holy matrimony to the dragon in the sky.

On the seventh day of the seventh month of that year, you are disguised as a 17 year old despite your older age, and you are dressed like a bride, skin powdered and body bathed, lips red and lashes curled, dressed like the dolls you used to see on display at the city, left for your holy husband who doesn’t seem like he is coming for you. On this special day of the most luckiest day in the year, you are left at the foot of a mountain under a fictional jade palace adorned with gold in its cracks, painted as a bride for a man that exists only in a folktale that people still believed.

You stay at the base of the mountain instead, rubbing at your arms, whimpering from the cold, fingers starting to freeze from the snow and lack of clothes.

The villagers left you to rot, technically.

You pull at the hanfu on your body, trying to conserve your body warmth, teeth chattering as a breeze passes you, and you whimper. God. If you knew you were just going to die like this, you would have at least given your friends the key to your apartment so they could clear out your place . Seriously, what kind of family calls you up claiming that there was a crisis in the family only to wrap you up in wedding robes and send you to the base of a mountain to wed you off instead of their precious daughter. Oh, right. Not you. Your sister. Your step-sister that your mother treasured more than her own. You suppose this is what you get for being so naive as to helping them one last time before you wanted to permanently sever ties with them.

It’s a mistake on your part, and as the hanfu slips further from your skin, you hiss at the cold, the tears that were swelling up in your eyes freezing on your skin and cracking. Your cleavage shudders as you try to pull the dress further up, a breeze causing you to shake further as you whimper, your breath fogging from the cold, and you sigh shakily. This was how you were going to die. The frost would kiss your fingertips and your skin, and your skin would turn to ice from the winter cold. That would be how you pass. Not in a hospital surrounded by the old– but by the hands of a family that despised you— who had sent you in place of their daughter that was selected.

On the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year of the decade, the strike of luck you receive is to die in the hands of winter herself.

Then, your mind strikes something.

You recall the first bride to be taken up in the old folktale, and you open your mouth, pulling your dress further down to show your cleavage. Your cheeks flush pink as you breathe, skin starting to turn red from being exposed to the cold, and you exhale. The tears in the corner of your eyes spills, and it ruins your makeup, but you continue, pulling your dress further to show more cleavage, desperate to escape this situation even if it was simply an old story from a folktale. Then, you open your mouth as you begin to weep for your husband.

“My husband…” You mumble, eyes getting droopy. “Do come claim your bride…”

Somewhere in the distance, bells jingle in the background, and you feel yourself slip from consciousness as you fall into warm arms, smooth lips pressed to yours as you see black.

When you wake, you are in a room of jade, golden silk draped over you, the red from your hanfu hung up across from you, and a pair of piercing purple eyes meeting your gaze from next to your dress. You blink owlishly at the man, lips parted as you take in his gaze. Silver hair cascades down his shoulders, his skin pale as porcelain, horns blue as the sea as you shrink under his gaze, swallowing your saliva with your dirty thoughts as your eyes trail down to the robe on his skin, white like the snow you had passed out in. You press at the bare skin of your arms, and you finally notice that you are bare under the gold of the blanket. Warmth spreads up your neck immediately as you meet purple eyes again, this time, your skin flushed warm with embarrassment.

“Did you rest well, my bride?” He smiles gently, lips pulled up, eyes strangely gentle.

“A-are you my husband?” You ask, pulling the silk up as it slides from your chest.

He nods. “Welcome to your new residence, my wife.”

You blink at him through your lashes, nodding slowly.

“Is this… my room?”

He nods, standing up as he does, stepping over to you. “Would you like something to eat?”

He offers you his hand.

You take it, letting go of the blanket as you are exposed to him— yet you do not feel uncomfortable being bare in the presence of your husband. He offers you a robe, fingers gentle on your skin as he helps you into a green silk, and you stare, eyes big as you stare at him in awe. He’s pretty. So pretty. You watch as his fingers slip between the silk of the ribbon of the robe, tying it around your waist as his voice comes out smooth as honey, tempting as sin, and you swallow slowly, heart racing in your chest as you answer him, his words going in one ear and out the other. You wonder if you plain next to him. He must have washed off the ornaments that the servants had done to your face, so you must look <i>painfully</i> simple next to your god of a husband, but you do not falter, blinking slowly as he offers you his arm.

“Love.” He mumbles. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You whisper, lips pulled into a smile. “You are beautiful, my husband.”

“And you, my bride.” He smiles.

You wonder if it’s some sort of curse that overcomes you and makes you dizzy with desire for him, but you do not complain, listening as your husband takes you through the palace, the pond with sacred fish, and trees of three pink peaches and purple plums. You blink at them as they tempt you to take a bite, but you don’t when your husband tells you not to. Instead, he takes a bite of the peach, juice dripping down his chin as he presses his lips to yours, making your head spin deliciously with want as you taste the nectar on his lips and tongue, lashes fluttering as your body relaxes into his. Your body warms, but not uncomfortably, and you chase after your husband’s lips as he pulls away, making him chuckle.

The kiss was chaste, yet you felt as though it were sinful.

“If I give you any more, beloved,” His thumb wipes the mess of nectar on your chin and lips, “then you will become sick with addiction to a fruit you can not have.”

“Why not?” You whisper, eyes focused on his fingers as he presses his thumb to his lips, licking it clean.

“You are not a god, my love.” He whispers. “No mortal is to consume it too quickly at once.”

“You lie.” You whisper, listening to him anyway. “The emperor Wu of Han consumed one in the tales and planted a tree.”

“He is the only mortal to do so.” Your husband whispers. “Have a plum for now to quench the thirst.”

You take it from him and bite down, sugar flooding your system as you smile in content. “Thank you, my beloved.”

He nods, offering you his arm again as you continue through the halls of his palace, the jade embedded with gold glistening as the sun starts to set, and your lips are parted in mild surprise as it is, smiling at the gold that reflects in your eyes. Your husband looks down at you, squeezing your hand affectionately as you blink up at him. He leans down slightly, pressing his lips to your forehead, and your head spins again as the smell of the peaches flood your system. You blink up at him big-eyed, silently hoping he would give you another taste of the peach from earlier, but he only shakes his head, taking you back to your room as you watch him shut the door behind him.

Would it be too early to ask him to sleep in the room with you?

You suppose it wouldn’t be wrong for a wife to visit her husband’s chambers at night.

You wander through the halls, the gold engravings lighting up as you do, and you blink owlishly once you arrive at your husband’s chambers, knocking on his door as you wonder if he is awake. The light in his room flickers as a shadow opens the door for you, and you blink up at your husband, red mark on his forehead glowing hazily, and you blink up at him, opening then closing your mouth as you realize you don’t have a reason as to why you decided to join him in his quarters.

“Were you scared, my wife?”

“Yes.” You whisper. “The palace is so big and my room feels so empty without you.”

He chuckles, letting you in, pulling the covers over you as you blink at him.

“Will you rest up with me?” You pout. “We haven’t… consummated the marriage either.” You whisper.

“When your body is no longer weak.” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I shall watch you rest for the night.”

“Please rest well.” You whisper.

“For you.” He hums.

When the sun rises in the morning, you rise with it, body well rested as you sit up, yawning as you do, staring at your husband who has fallen asleep on the couch. Had you known you would have been such a hassle, you would have not entered his chambers and asked to rest with him for the night. The blanket you drag with you is draped over his body, and you tuck him in, lips ghosting over his forehead as you kiss him to rest well, leaving the room as you wander around to head back to your own quarters.

The pillars shimmer as you pass them, signifying your arrival, and you enter your room again, tugging the robe off your body as you slip into your bed, eyelids growing heavy as the silk hugs your skin, your consciousness slipping as you rest once again.

Your husband arrives at your door, knocking before entering, eyes blinking at your sleeping form, skin and heart racing in his chest as he brushes the hair from your face. The black of your hair rests around you on the pillow as you shift, leaning into his touch unconsciously, making his heart skip. Ah, you were… how pretty. You’re so pretty.

He mumbles to himself as you continue sleeping, lashes soft against the plush of your cheek, hand small as he places his over it, making him blink. He wonders how many times it’s been since the last sacrifice’s prayer. Though, most of them either died waiting or froze to death while running away. It wasn’t that he was lonely, per say, it was more… waiting. It had been a long time since he had met his wife, after all. He was simply glad that the right one had returned. He doesn’t recall how many times the other sacrifices had tried to seduce him— going as far as entering his chambers while he was resting to have their way with him.

At least he doesn’t need to worry about it with you.

Your soul wouldn’t allow it.

A soft amber glows in your chest as you rest, and your husband blinks slowly.

Same shade as the past. How warming.

The two of you fall into a pattern. His fingers tug on yours as the two of you hang out at his place, and you watch as he busies himself with his garden and fish, eyes focused on his task, body lax as he goes about his day. You wonder how someone is able to look so relaxed yet dignified at the same time. You don’t worry yourself with it, settling for staring at the fish while they flock to the food he gives them instead.

“Love.” He hums.

“Hm?”

“What is your name?”

Bells ring in the distance when you tell him.

“And you?”

“Ye Xuan.” He smiles. “Your husband’s name is Ye Xuan.”

“My Ye Xuan.” You hum, cheeks dusted with color.

“Yours.” He chuckles at the color on your ears.

You find that your husband is so, so lovely.

Your lips are curled upward sweetly as you eat with him, wandering out into the garden to pick plums and take a bite. You do not touch the peaches, blinking at them slowly while your husband takes a bite of them instead, offering you a nibble. You do not take it out of a fear that you will grow to become addicted. You do not know why, but you find the taste of peaches luring but not enough. You do not care for immortality. It is a blessing to be able to grow old and follow everyone else of value to you.

You wake up at the strike of noon, stretching your arms as you hear something crack, eyes going wide. Then, the door slides open, and you blink at your husband, aquamarine scales on his cheeks, scarlet lips curled into a smile.

“Did you rest well, wife?”

You beam. “Yes, husband.”

“Ye Xuan.” He hums, sitting at the edge of your bed as he hands you the bowl of porridge. “I hear the people still make century eggs on earth, so I thought to make you some.”

“Thank you,” You smile cheekily, eating as he observes you.

Delicate. You are so much more delicate than he ever thought you would be. You look of skin and bones, years of weariness and exhaustion in your body, nowhere near the age of the myth in the tale promised by the people in your hometown. He wonders why the age had been so young and why they had never bothered to check before sending the poor girls.

“What happened to all the previous girls?” You tilt your head,

He stares at you, sighing.

“Are they all passed?”

“it has been a long time since someone remembered that they are to call to me when they are sacrificed.” He whispers. “The lot of them… passed.”

“Is there a reason why it is every ten years?”

“Every seventy.” Ye Xuen hums. “That is typically how long it takes a soul to reincarnate.”

You blink at him owlishly.

“The soul matters?”

“It is also why you do not respond to the majority of the brides?” You mumble.

He nods solemnly, taking the bowl from you as he sighs.

“If the soul does not match, then the peach naturally rejects her.”

“So you don’t go based on looks?”

Your husband laughs, lips quirking up as his eyes smile at you, shaking his head.

You find something familiar about the palace the longer you spend there. You stare and blink at the peaches, plums growing to be good, but not enough to satisfy something. You crave something richer, and it seems that it will not be right without it.

“You crave the peaches.” Your husband tells you, taking your plate from you. “You can not have them.”

You stare at your husband. “Will it kill me?”

He shakes his head.

You crave it.

You wonder just what would happen if you did not listen to him for once.

Your fingers rest on the branches of the peach trees, licking your lips as you hum slowly, lashes fluttering as the fruit tempts you, lips curling upwards as you crave it. You wonder why your husband refuses to let you have it again. It is just a fruit, no? It could not hurt you. If the first emperor had three and achieved immortality, then how come you were not to become as him?

You snap the fruit from the tree, tucking it into your pouch as you hear your husband approach.

“You can not have it.”

“I know.” You continue staring, watching as the peach grows back on the tree, humming.

“Did you take one?”

“No.” You tilt your head. “I did not.”

Your husband raises a brow, but does not speak up.

You cut the fruit open later that night.

It tastes sweet on your lips, biting the fruit, and you blink slowly at your nectar stained hands, sucking on the juices from your fingers. Through the cracks of your door, your husband watches you, purple eyes peeling past the wooden doors, stuck on your figure as you finish, settling into the warmth of your blanket.

Again.

It has happened again.

Your husband opens the doors once you are asleep, fingers pressed under your nose as he feels the air slip out of your lungs, skin pale and features in peace as he holds your head to his, forehead pressed to yours, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows as he loses you.

You are gone. You are gone now.

Again.

You are gone again.

The fruit of the tree of immortality is still too much for your soul to handle, lips paling as your blood stops flowing, his ears listening to the way your heart stills and then stops.

Next life. Next life.

#☾.suggestive #yexuan x reader #cael x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader #☾.fics #lovebrush chronicles #reader insert #for all time #for all time x reader #got lazy at the end im not writing no more

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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months

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Unfortunately for Wukong, once Heaven learns about his true reasoning for seeking immortality, it isn't long until the news gets out amongst the demon realms. Luckily for Wukong, the human communities haven't heard the news yet, but now characters such as Spider Queen, the Gold and Silver twins, and various old enemies have heard the shocking rumors that Sun Wukong hadn't sought immortality for power but rather to be a devoted parent due to a high risk pregnancy. That the Havoc in Heaven that put Wukong on the map was actually the world's worst pregnancy tantrum.

And Wukong can't discredit the blow to his reputation because if he tries to correct them, it'll ruin everything he did to protect Macaque.

Referencing.

Yup!

And Wukong can survive a hit to his ego if it means keeping Macaque safe, no matter how much he complains about the misconception.

A bunch of former enemies crawl out the woodwork to give their apologises/congratulations to the Monkey King for his "noble goal". A few give baby supplies/parenting advice. Wukong isn't sure how to respond.

Spider Queen *may* take this as an opportunity to strike while the Monkey King is weak... but she's a big mama bear at heart, and completely melts when she sees her greatest foe in his current state. Something about the monkey being exhausted and eating peach ice cream while wearing a maternity hanfu makes the arachnid queen postpone her takeover; too cute/fluffy to harm.

The demons/celestial who do make fun of Wukong for "being the biggest hormonal monkey in the Three Realms" immediately find themselves surrounded by furious shadowy clones of the king's all-hearing mate.

#century stone egg au #stone egg talk #pregnancy tw #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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mirageofadesert · 4 months

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Looking back on my first year as a c-drama fan!

This year I fell - first down a flight of stairs - and then (because I couldn't walk properly for a few weeks) down a rabbit hole of cdramas!

In total, I have watched 28 dramas since May. I actually finished 17 of them. I re-watched 8 of them at least once. My most rewatched show is Till The End Of The Moon, followed by Love Is Sweet and The Untamed!

Shows I loved

Till The End of The Moon: This drama triggered my hyperfixation, and I still love it so much. Tantai Jin became my new obsession.

Love is Sweet: This one surprised me because I don't usually care for romantic dramas. It made me more open to different genres.

The Untamed: I watched this for the first time in 2019, and now I can appreciate it even more.

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasties: It took me several tries to get into the drama because the political setting was too complicated. I'm glad I didn't give up. Wang Zhi became one of my favorites!

New Life Begins: I was just looking for something light in between and was quite surprised how much I liked the show.

Things I learned as a newbie:

Cdramas are an acquired taste. Sometimes it's worth going back to a drama that you initially gave up on.

To avoid spoilers, it's best to skip the intro and especially the outro.

I love my characters unhinged.

Apparently it is okay to share leaks from filming.

Never believe anything that comes from yxh accounts.

Shippers are toxic in any fandom.

C-drama fans are a bit older than K-pop fans, but they can be just as unhinged and have trouble distinguishing between how to treat actors and the fictional characters they play.

My ADHD is better regulated when I watch shows in a foreign language while reading the subtitles. I don't get bored watching TV, which is rare!

Shows I dropped, and what I learned from it:

Hidden Love: I still don't like romances that have no significant plot beyond the relationship. Especially if I don't care about the characters at all.

Back from the Brink: Sometimes dramas that start well become an unwatchable, rage-inducing mess halfway through, and it's not worth sticking it out to the end.

Beauty of Resilience: I'm a character-driven audience. If the characters aren't compelling and the story isn't interesting, I don't care about the show.

Ashes of Love: I hate childish FL with baby voices and naive personalities. I need better written female characters. I'm on my 3rd attempt to watch this show and I only have a handful of episodes left, so I'll actually make it to the end (eventually).

I've dropped a lot more shows and actually watched some to the end that I didn't like very much in the end, but those are the ones I learned the most from.

What will stay with me:

Tantai Jin: I'm still obsessed with this character. He is everything I need in a fictional character.

Luo Yunxi: This will come as no surprise to anyone who follows me, but my obsession with TTJ soon extended to Luo Yunxi.

Bai Lu & Sun Zhenni: While I appreciate both of them as actors, it's their fun and uninhibited personalities that made me fall in love with them!!

Costumes: I adore the detailed costumes and hanfu styles, and do prefer costume dramas to modern ones.

Food & drinks: I'm now looking into more Chinese foot now and how to cook vegetables in more interesting ways. I also bought "moon cake stamps"... so wish me luck!

New online acquaintances: I have made some new friends online who I can fangirl with to my heart's content!

What I'm looking forward to in 2024:

I'm really looking forward to Luo Yunxi's upcoming dramas, Follow You Heart, Shui Long Yin and Immortality (🤡). I'm also looking forward to Sun Zhenni's first leading role!

There are still many dramas I want to watch, but haven't found the time for. Like A Journey to Love, Goodbye, My Princess, Nirvana in Fire, Then Miles of Peach Blossoms and The Blood of Youth.

I'm not sure what else I'll post here next year. Probably more reviews and content related to my favourite actors. Let's see if something triggers my hyperfixation soon!

Happy New Year!

#cdrama

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starlightlacrimosazpsff · 11 months

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◇ 𝓐 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ◇ [2]

SYNOPSIS:

Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

ENTRY TYPE: Submission, F!Reader

WARNING(S): slightly suggestive scenes, symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, scenes of past abuse/violence, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, visual/auditory hallucinations, etc...

CHARACTER(S):

Baizhu, Xiao/Alatus, Zhongli / Rex Lapis / Morax, Kaedehara Kazuha, Kamisato Ayato, Thoma

•

•☆••☆••☆•

BAIZHU is a doctor that advocates for the healing of all those in need even at his own expense. In the city of Liyue where everything is bound by contracts, he is the successor to the ancient arts imparted by Changsheng. To nurture the light of souls in danger of being extinguished, the green-haired healer must sacrifice the years bestowed upon him. However, his predecessors—particularly his late master—left him a conundrum: were their lives not just as precious, and thus deserving of preservation? On the other hand, Changsheng would perish if left without a host. Under such facts, how can one continue the contract without paying the price of either the host's or Changsheng's life?

The concepts of life and death have come hand in hand since the olden days. Whether in literature or science, life and death are two sides of the same coin. True immortality is gifted to non-humans for the nature of humans is to remain mortal and ever so fleeting—as there is beauty in its evanescence.

To pursue otherwise is considered an atrocity, perhaps even, a forbidden knowledge.

Baizhu has long been disillusioned by all sides to such lectures. A medicine can easily be used as a poison via overdose, just as a poison can be used as a remedy to eliminate a harmful virus. Power is neither good nor evil, for it is the wielder's intention that shall define its purpose. The supposedly heretic pursuit of immortality is only ever catastrophic when a soul becomes seduced by dark temptations. He is not so arrogant as to proclaim being above it since he is only human as much as any ordinary person. He just knows what to expect of himself.

The green-haired doctor has always been selfish in a way that he just wants to save lives—simple.

"Is it because you loathe death?"

That was a question Changsheng once asked him when he was but a young apprentice.

Death is a natural part of a cycle. It is the mortality that defines the end of every season so it can begin anew; as when one falls, another grows. As a doctor, he merely considers it his job—maybe even a calling—to deter death so his patients could appreciate life.

If Changsheng's contract is the answer, then why should he hesitate? Of course, if said contract shall be considered a plight, then he is determined to let it end with him.

On the gravesite of his predecessors, a chartreuse lantern innocently rested on the tombstone of the first doctor. It sways precariously yet does not tip even against the breeze. Its lit flame was slowly dimming, and it is then that they—he, Changsheng, and Qiqi—finally noticed a peculiar symbol on it.

An ouroboros with silver eyes is drawn in sparkling viridian ink, as if covered in real scales.

"Show yourself, wàishengnǚ."

Upon Changsheng's demand, the lantern shimmered a vibrant green. In its place, a woman was resting on the grave like a grieving widow. Contrastingly, your serene countenance displayed a sweeter image and amplified the otherworldly beauty that can only belong to an adeptus. A silk hanfu in various shades of green covered your figure, and a lone jade comb pinned your hair back in a waterfall braid. There was also a ghostly silver yǔyī draped over you.

"That," her tail points at you, "is the petulant daughter of my late sister. You may call her [Name]."

Thus, his new life with you began.

Baizhu found you to be pleasant company if not a bit eccentric due to your outdated manners. Most of the time, you were always hibernating. Changsheng had clarified that it is not always by choice. They are the side-effects of your abilities—resembling symptoms of narcolepsy, given how he sometimes finds you paralyzed. A part of him felt protective over you because of that. His responsibility now is to provide you treatment in regaining the movement of your muscles, whether through acupuncture or massage.

You trusted no other hands to handle you too.

Speaking of which, you and his adorable assistant have been inseparable. Whenever you are in snake form, you are found either wrapped around Qiqi's neck or nesting on/under her big hat. Whenever you are in human form, she is cuddled in your cold yet welcoming embrace. It came as a bit of a shock when Qiqi claimed her body never suffers rigor mortis in your presence.

"Qiqi loves [Name]." She proclaims.

From what Baizhu observed, you love her just as much...even if you refuse to admit it.

According to Changsheng, you have been asleep since the death of her first contractor—which left you at odds with each other. He did not pry despite his curiosity. He could deduce the facts based on your behavior. On the rare times Qiqi left you behind in Bubu Pharmacy, you sneak into the sleeves of his coat as if to find solace in it.

While Changsheng was asleep, Baizhu took the rare chance to converse with you.

"Why did you choose to wake up now?" He asked.

You deadpanned at him, staring into his eyes as if the answer should have been obvious.

"You were being too loud." You replied.

Baizhu raised a brow confusedly, making you sigh in a mix of boredom and agitation.

"You kept calling me and it woke me up. Really annoying, to be honest..."

He frowned, "I...don't understand. I never knew about you until Changsheng introduced us."

You laughed, and Baizhu swore it sounded like the whispering soft waves by the seashore.

"Your soul sure did~!" You chimed, "It kept nagging about immortality and all that stuff."

His eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, does that mean you—"

"—know about the secret you so desperately seek?"

You gave a sultry smile, walking towards him with a very subtle swing to your hips.

"You must wonder why yímā said nothing about it."

Baizhu looks up yet the gleam remains on his lenses as he stared at you. The golden hour bathed you in flaxen glaze, and his breath hitches when it seems to make your eyes glower. It left him frozen as your lips grazed his ear and the warmth of your breath made him shiver.

"It's quite simple." You whispered, "The method I practice can only be done by me."

You pull back just enough for your eyes to meet.

"It would have been worthless for her to tell you when she was under the assumption I plan to sleep for the rest of eternity."

You glared as your smile sharpened. For a second, the man in your arms felt the familiar constriction of a snake around his body—less friendly, and more threatening. He looked down to see your silver yǔyī tightly wound around his waist like a vise made of plumage. It pulls him closer to you.

"I would have done exactly that if not for your soul's incessant whining." You snarked.

A soft sound resembling a melodic hiss echoes in the room as you turn away. The cloak tickles his skin as it slides away from his exposed stomach. It can almost be seen as a taunt to "come hither" while the eldritch cloth fluttered around you.

You behave more serpentine than Changsheng, yet he still finds it difficult to fear you.

"I suppose," you mumble, "you did present me the perfect opportunity with your ambition."

Rustic golden eyes narrowed at you, flickering into red for a split second. You thought it was a much lovelier shade on him, and you desired to see it more often.

"An opportunity for you to what...?"

You look back over your shoulder. At that precise timing, your grin was childlike and delicate. It was an extreme juxtaposition to your next words.

"An opportunity to die, of course~!"

Baizhu stares in dumbfounded shock, yet he could not inquire more as you slumped. The bout of high emotions seem to have put your muscles at its limit as you slurred. He rushes forward, catching you in his arms and was surprised. Usually, you turn back into your snake form in defense if anyone other than Qiqi touched you in human form; but not this time.

Watching your elegant features, your foreboding words haunt him.

In a moment of weakness, his hand caressed your cheek. His knuckles traced your lips as his eyes are left mesmerized—besotted by you alone.

Flustered, he then pulls away.

Since that day, Baizhu subconsciously begins to treat you more gently and warmly. It did not perturb you but there was trepidation in your gaze, as well as a hint of hope. A mutual understanding grew between you and this persistent fool.

He is a greedy man advocating for life.

You are a pitiful woman yearning for death.

That parallelism is what enabled his soul to awaken yours back to reality. As days pass and nights wane, you grew infatuated by this premise. In the fleeting bliss of domesticity, an ardent affection for living has returned to your nihilistic heart. A part of you still wishes it remained forgotten with the broken pieces that the first doctor left abandoned.

Changsheng sees right through you.

Someday, your feelings for Baizhu will far surpass whatever fascinations you held for Xu Xian.

"I always found it odd." You said.

Baizhu hums as he stargazes beside you. Qiqi had taken Changsheng inside to give you both some needed privacy.

"You and your predecessors," you scoffed, "are always so determined to defy the clutches that death has over your patients; yet in your attempts, you become the most eager to greet it on your doorstep."

You glared into his bespectacled honey gaze, sweet as much as it is infuriating. Your heart swells when he dropped his fallacious smile, proving he is taking your words seriously.

"It is hypocrisy at its finest." You spat.

Your limbs flailed in irritation but you swiftly calmed yourself. The last thing you needed is for your words to slur in anger and then faint.

"What about you?" Baizhu confronts, "Why are you so fixated to die?"

You smile resentfully, "I want to spite him."

It took no guesses whom you meant.

"The audacity of that man," you grumble, "pleading for me to live and find happiness again—in another, as if my heart was so fickle—while he laid dying due to his own foolishness. Since he was so unrepentant for his choice, I want to know why."

Your hand reaches out to the moon. For those brief seconds, beguiled golden eyes watched the scales on your skin shine.

"What does being human feel like? What does it mean to die?" You ask rhetorically.

Baizhu looks at you and is awed to finally see you in whole view. Your regrets, your woes, your pride, your vulnerabilities...

...and your love—he witnesses.

He wants them all.

"Your powers," he said, "what would they entail if I take your contract as well?"

A delicate tenderness softens your smile, pushing a surge of pride in him.

"Simple," you respond idly, "all the energy I have accumulated will be transferred to you."

Baizhu blinked, "So...a reverse of Changsheng's own healing arts?"

You shrug, "My mother had said that the green and white snakes were always meant to be united. One is responsible for refining chi to immortalize the host, while the other will heal by absorbing illnesses."

"That is why you always end up hibernating," he alas concludes, "to gather chi around you."

You smirk, "My endearment for Qiqi is not entirely innocent in that notion. As an undead, the adeptal energy which surrounds her is my ideal reservoir. Similar to dual cultivation, I keep her bodily functions in circulation even when at rest."

In a blink, you levitated before Baizhu with feet just barely touching the ground to be on equal eye level with him. Your hands cradled his face and a solemn glint made your eyes shimmer, as if in tears.

"The green snake is an ouroboros," you murmur, "a serpent that eats itself to gain power."

Your arms slide around his shoulders as your body slumped against him.

"The white snake is a shapeshifter," you continue, "a serpent that endlessly sheds its skin to live."

Your lips kissed his neck and he felt your fangs graze the skin all too tantalizingly.

"Ironically," you chuckle darkly, "the powers are set in reverse. With both contracts, you get to fulfill that ambition of yours: an immortal doctor that can cure any ailment."

"To accomplish it," Baizhu intercepts, "I must take the identity of the green snake."

He understands it now.

The two snakes are bound because they are the only ones capable of undertaking each other's contract without paying a steep price. Your mother perished to save you, leaving Changsheng vulnerable. The first doctor took her contract and then met you. His death could have been prevented if he took yours too, but he chose otherwise.

You did not spite the doctor for choosing death.

You hated how he chose death for your sake. He failed to understand your heart by heeding the calls of his own...and you blamed yourself for it, not Changsheng.

"I accept."

His declaration was not unexpected but you did not anticipate the weight behind it. While Xu Xian acted callous with his life, Baizhu was just as flippant by the burdens of immortality.

However, the way he looks at you says otherwise.

The way he smiles at you while his arms embraced your figure in turn proved it.

"Acceptance is a point of no return." You warn one last time, "Nothing of you will remain—only the green ouroboros. I will go to sleep more and more for every time you wake with vitality. Someday, I will not wake up beside you anymore at all."

Baizhu tightens his hold as if spooked by the idea yet he smiles angelically at you. His hand rose to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while yours tilted his glasses down teasingly in jest.

"I will relieve you of your burden." He proclaims, "I only ask that you live the remainders of this life with joy and no regrets..."

Audaciously, he leans forward until your lips were centimeters away from each other.

"...by my side."

Tears escape yet your laughter is most sincere.

"Then, the contract is sealed."

With your words, a kiss is exchanged.

Baizhu will have to live the rest of eternity knowing that he chose to let his beloved go to death. He will spend that same eternity persuading others to keep choosing life in exchange. His sole comfort is that it shall be a mutual choice—a mortal yet bountiful life together—between you and him.

You are destined to become his first grievance when he turns immortal.

That is the proof of love he can give you in return for your blessings, your heart, and—

"My dearest, for whom I embrace eternal damnation so you may rest."

•☆••☆••☆•

XIAO is a yaksha whose purpose lies within his many names under one mask. As General Alatus, he fought alongside his fellow yaksha brothers and sisters in the perilous era of the Archon War. As the Golden Winged King, he is respected amongst the adepti that serve Rex Lapis. As the Winged Nemesis, the stars acknowledged him enough to bestow the power of anemo. As the Conqueror of Demons, he works tirelessly against the undying darkness. As the Vigilant Yaksha, he became the last of his kind and a phantom that lingers within the Wangshu Inn.

All of these identities are united under one mask and one name: Adeptus Xiao.

It is both his shield and his bond.

Xiao can vividly hear the ringing of his real name being called in reverence by his comrades. He will sometimes linger from the hilltops at night to reply morosely. The sound is similar to a bird call from a distance, a mimicry of his true form. If he felt more sentimental in his solitude, he would even play a whole piece with the dizi flute.

In one such night, the last yaksha smelled the potent odor of hysterical panic and fear. It clashed against the putrid taste of hateful rage and sadism.

One soul is hunting for the blood of another.

By raw instinct, his mask took form upon his face as he dashed towards the origin of the scent. He was led towards Qingyun Peak. For a moment, he paused at the sight of burning qingxin flowers by his feet—a peculiar hint to what awaits him. The wind whipped against his hair and exposed arms, chilling his skin in a familiar brush. It pushed him to go even faster to save the victim of such malice.

A swirl of anemo green and inky black blur together as he finally arrived with spear in hand.

That was when Xiao first saw you.

A man twice your size had been choking you. Now, he was dead by your feet with a piece of broken glass stabbed into his jugular. However, you were clearly bleeding out as the rag you call a dress had been painted red. On the other hand, your flesh was in shades of black and blue. In some twisted sense, your face was left in pristine condition—churning Xiao's stomach, for he could guess the intention of your abuser. Your hair was matted due to sweat and grime, a splatter of dirt on your cheeks.

The imagery struck too much familiarity.

The Conqueror of Demons then gasped as he is forced out of reverie. You are losing consciousness while standing dangerously close to the edge of a steep cliff. Your chapped lips move as the wind carried your message to his ears.

Three words.

A plea for help. A desperation to live.

"Help...me...please."

Then, you fell back.

For Xiao, it felt like a surreal dream as he threw his body forward. His hand released his weapon and reached out towards you. A raw cry reverberated in his ears, distantly recognizing it to be his own. The yaksha willed his Vision to let him fall faster as his fingers grazed yours, until he managed to take hold of your hand.

With a strong pull, Xiao engulfs you in a tight yet gentle embrace—mindful of your fragility. In another swirl of green and black, he swiftly teleports to the Wangshu Inn.

That was the start of his life's chapter with you.

It actually took you three days to awaken, and an entire month to fully recover. Verr Goldet concluded that irreparable damage was done to your throat, rendering you indefinitely voiceless. Talking causes you pain, and straining yourself causes you to cough out blood. The yaksha has never met someone who can scream so loud in silence.

Alatus understood the feeling.

Although you never officially met your savior, Verr had told you everything you needed to know. While working through your physical rehabilitation, you made a habit of leaving almond tofu in a certain room. It is accompanied by a single honeyed qingxin flower, a pain-killing remedy that you learned as a child. Whenever you collect the plate in the morning, it is always empty. After three days, you grew bold and thus began to also leave a small note under the plate—just messages of goodwill or brief greetings to the Vigilant Yaksha.

"What a foolish mortal." Xiao murmured.

You never received a reply but you were far from disheartened by it.

After a month of this routine, the first sign of your savior's reciprocation was a freshly picked qingxin flower beside the empty plate.

That was the first time Xiao saw a genuine smile from you as he watched at a distance.

"Truly foolish indeed." He mumbled.

Everyone was pleasantly surprised by your hidden Pyro Vision. You can conjure different colors of wisp flames. Each served a purpose which the inn found very useful when you learned to control it.

Red is the most natural color, and enables the wisps to interact without burning anything. They can be touched in this state unless infused with anemo to cause Swirl.

Orange is the defensive color that produces barriers of all kinds. They serve as warning to anyone that provokes any harm or malice. Yellow/Gold is its secondary phase which makes the shield or wisps combust. It is also the color that engulfs your sword with your elemental skill and burst.

Xiao could not explain it but he is aware whenever you call out his name in your mind. There is always something tugging at his core ever since he began to reciprocate your small acts of affectionate goodwill. Whenever he follows it, he finds you—whether it is because you were praying to him, or because you were in danger.

He then consulted his fellow adepti but received no concrete answers. He would be lying if he claims to not be curious about this odd phenomenon, even if he just accepted in stride.

As time passed, the yaksha viewed you as a sort of companion for every silent call. It is an unspoken camaraderie, one he could not deny.

On the first anniversary of your meeting, Xiao gifted you the Primordial Jade Cutter.

On the second anniversary, you saw him vulnerable for the first time. Reduced to his knees, he gasped in pain as tendrils of black surrounded him—his karmic debt, as he called it. This was the price he had to pay for eons of slaughter. He warned you to back off in a raised voice, yet you persisted as your immaculate pyro swirled with his tainted anemo.

White is the color of healing, shining above the rest and burning hottest. It was your natural affinity, and he found it fitting on you—a soul most endearing and most loving. Alas, as the two elements danced and your flames purged the karmic debt within him, he had an epiphany. The bond you both nurtured over mutual exchanges of qingxin, the reason why he can hear a voice you can never use—they all point back towards her.

You stared at him in concern as you kneeled, joining him on the floor. Slowly to not spook him, your hand touches his cheek ever so tenderly. For all his strong abstinence, Xiao indulged your touch as he leaned into your palm. Your white flames dissolve the black miasma and the pain receded, if only for now.

However, as soon as he regained clarity, there was a spark of anxiety and disbelief in his catlike eyes.

Then, he vanished.

Xiao avoided you for weeks. A part of you felt a bit saddened by that but you ignored it. As long as he was taking care of himself, you had no reason to complain.

The next time you heard anything about him was from a gentleman named Zhongli.

You met the funeral consultant at the balcony of Wangshu Inn, which Xiao frequented whenever he is on standby. The older man smiled knowingly at you, inviting you for some tea. Then, he relays the news of the yaksha undertaking a perilous mission in The Chasm.

"Worry not," he told at the face of your concern, "I promise that he shall return to you."

For some reason, his tone made you blush like a girl exposed by the father of the boy she adores.

However, true to his word, Xiao returned safely.

Then, the yaksha told you to meet him at Qingyun Peak—the place of your first meeting.

You walked the familiar path in a strangely relaxed pace despite the bad memories. In fact, you felt overjoyed to see qingxin growing on formerly ashen grasslands. Rays of sunshine gold peek through the gaps of trees and their branches. You look up to see Xiao sitting alone by the cliff, staring ahead to oversee all of Liyue.

Xiao heard you coming and closed his eyes just as you sat beside him. He can feel your gaze analyzing him from head to toe. The warmth of your flames caressed his skin, likely seeking injuries in need of healing. His sore muscles are thus soothed but, to his curiosity, the flames linger on his arm.

Golden eyes open to see you dazedly observing his tattoo. Amidst the trance, your hand traced its shape and lingered when it pulsed aglow. He shivered at the sensation, making you pull back.

A silent apology was made by your lovely eyes.

Xiao said nothing to that, gazing at the setting sun once again.

"Indarias." He said.

You tilted your head in confusion.

The adeptus sighs somberly, eyes growing misty in recollections of old memories.

"The predecessor of your Vision," he clarified gently, "her name was Indarias."

That was the day Xiao bore his heart and soul open to you. He told you about his brothers and sisters, encouraged by his trials in The Chasm. He explains how they once swore blood oaths to each other. It carried to their Visions, and that is how he can hear you say his name even without a voice. After being confronted by remnants of Bosacius, he recalls what made him cower from you—the revelation that you inherited the power of Indarias. When he had been falling to his death, he recalls how his mind was only filled with thoughts of you.

Then, when that golden light saved him once again, all he could think was—

"I wanted to come home to you."

Xiao confessed as his eyes softened upon meeting yours. He raises a hand to your cheek, smiling as a blush coated your skin. Leaning forward, your lips met his for the first of many times. Your arms held him close, and it will be your shared secret how he shed tears upon this sacred act.

To embrace his future, Xiao had made peace with the fact he must let go of the past. He will carry the memories of the fallen and honor them; but he will now live for himself, and for you.

However, all things—good or bad—eventually must come to an end.

The karmic debt bore down more harshly than it has ever done. By instinct, Xiao sought your existence yet also wished to stay far from it. The result was teleporting to Qingyun Peak. He remained unaware to the flow of time, leaving you and those who knew of his plight to search for him. All he could think is how unfair everything felt. Just as he found the will to genuinely live his life, he was being taken away to the arms of death. In the past, all he wanted was to take flight with the birds in the sky—yet chose to remain grounded by contract with his lord.

Now, he has you.

He laments how he still wants to spend more time, to make more memories, with you...

...yet there is no time left for memories anymore.

"Xiao!"

Your echoing voice pierced through the excruciating haze of black. His mask was cracking. All he can do is lean on his spear. The Primordial Jade grew dull with each passing second.

"Stay back!" He yelled hoarsely.

You took a step, white flames lashing out.

"I mean it!" He shouted more frantically.

In an effort to get away and protect you, the yaksha backed himself to the edge. With wide eyes, he finds himself falling back in stumbling steps as his mask fully crumbled. The pupils of his eyes thinned into alarming slits before dilating into clarity as he saw you reaching for him. In practiced ease, his own hand moved to welcome yours yet he was getting pulled farther back. The image of the past overlaps with the present, the roles reversing—

—yet the wind still carried three words.

A promise by heart. A resignation to die.

Xiao smiled as his golden eyes softened, gleaming with tears of farewell.

"I love you."

His world is then consumed by black smoke, and you watched in horror. A glance at his fading Anemo Vision made you jump after him, reaching out like he did long ago.

You refuse to let it end like this.

Red embers swirled to chase after Xiao like dancing silk ribbons. They surround you in a vermillion shield, carmine transitioning into rustic amber. Your white flames burn brighter than ever. It fought against the dark karma which threaten to devour you.

Unabashed, you cried out even as you bled.

"Alatus!"

His real name. Not his adeptus name.

Time seems to slow into a stop for Alatus, whose eyes fluttered open. He felt the nostalgic comfort of heat amidst the coldest breeze. Mustering the last of his strength, he returns your embrace—a picture of bittersweet bliss. His left hand cradles your head and his free arm wraps around your waist.

"[Name], my foolish mortal..."

Alatus remembers the words of Indarias from long ago. She told him that only the wind can save a fire from dying and empower it. He had failed to do that when she burned herself to ashes in madness. The memory made him hold you tighter, beseeching.

He refuses to let that happen to you.

A tinkling sound of two Visions meeting echoes for all adepti to hear. By the breath of his anemo, your final flame awakens.

Blue is the color of rebirth. It allows the union of souls, merging ambitions to begin anew. This azure light symbolizes radiance of a newborn star, perhaps even the miracle of resurrection.

A majestic golden bird shrouded in cerulean flames rose above Liyue. It shrieked an ancient hymn while flying across the sky, free at last. Darkness is purged as if night turned into day, and the Fourth Descender bore witness. A pair of amber eyes watched from afar as their owner gave a meaningful smile.

This undying bond is a new contract signed by the Vigilant Yaksha and his mortal lover—

"As thou hath been promised to me, I offer mine whole self to thee."

•☆••☆••☆•

ZHONGLI is a god who has lived for eons, and has yet to begin his life at the same time. After his six millennia of existence, he has been known by many names and bestowed countless titles. Some are hearsay and some are legitimate—all are bonded through his contracts. As the Prime Adeptus, he is the warrior god named Morax whom subdued the rage of oceans and monsters by rain of spears. To the people of Liyue, he is the almighty Rex Lapis whom stood as the overseer of contracts, history, and commerce. By the word of Celestia, he is the Geo Archon whom holds dominion over the Rook Gnosis; and in the eyes of Teyvat, that made him god amongst gods even if he felt otherwise under the divine gaze.

When he finally stepped down from the throne and pedestal of glory, his words to the Traveler omitted a particular truth from them—

—that is, his reason of retirement.

Zhongli spoke of erosion, and even the merchant whom made him realize that his job was done.

However, he did not speak of you.

Of course, with two Harbingers present, his secrecy is understandably sound judgment. Nevertheless, even when he attained privacy to speak personally, he finds it hard to disclose about you. Perhaps, it is a draconic instinct to hoard and protect what he has claimed to be his.

The only other individual just as protective over any knowledge of your existence is Ningguang.

After all, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing is also known as your dear older sister.

Ningguang raised you since the beginning, even if she had been a mere child herself. Your parents are never spoken, and you never asked. Even when you find yourself in comparison to other children with mothers and fathers, your older sister was always all you needed and wanted. Tirelessly, she carried you on her back while her arms were occupied by a basket of wares to be sold. Barefoot, she journeyed from the sands of Yaoguang Shoal to the main capital of Liyue Harbor to make ends meet. Every weekend, you will both scavenge anything that can be sold.

The first gift she ever bought you was an intricate erhu of the best craftsmanship.

It had been your smiles that told her everything will be worth the effort. It had been your songs that soothed the ache of muscles and the weariness of mind. It had been your words that invigorated her ambition to become something more.

"I love you, jiejie!"

"...I love you too, meimei."

Nothing would stop Ningguang from rising to the top and giving you the life you deserve.

Time is cruel to mortals and always issues a test of faith to see them thrive. In one such incident, it has been proven that you and Ningguang are true sisters in every sense of the word. Her determination can only be rivalled by yours, and the resolve which shine like stars in your eyes is unconquerable.

Your older sister had once fallen to sickness. She refused to tell you where she kept the money, not wanting to waste it to buy medicine. You furiously argued with her about it but nothing could change her mind. Thus, at the dark of night, you treaded the path towards Jueyun Karst. The entire map of Liyue has been engraved in your mind since you could walk. Even when nothing but black greets your blank eyes, it would have been child's play to travel into the abode of adepti.

That is, of course, if not for the adepti's indignant anger at your trespassing.

Fortunately, you stole a Sigil of Permission.

"My sister is ill," you told them, "and I require your aid to concoct a medicine."

You will never know that what eventually convinced them is how gold illuminated your form. It channels your soul, and then solidifies into a circlet. At its center, a Geo Vision proudly sparkled.

Mountain Shaper thus led you to collect herbs that you would need. Moon Carver carried you on his back while Cloud Retainer flew towards Yaoguang Shoal with Ganyu on hers to check on your sister. In the distance, the Conqueror of Demons obliterated all other threats that may come your way.

By morning, Ningguang was on a road to recovery and you thanked the adepti by playing your erhu for them every day.

Amongst these private performances, you ended up in Guili Plains alone.

A melody has been haunting your dreams. It is very melancholic yet profoundly moving, like a promise between lovers. The composition began to write itself in the abyssal void of your sight. Then, it played smoothly by your delicate hands on the strings. Your voice echoed across the plains, bequeathing a sense of serenity that mortals rarely have talent to supply.

The Lord of Geo has been enchanted as he listened to your lullaby.

"Milord, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Your inquiry was met with silence, but you can still feel his piercing eyes on you. Thankfully, you are patient as you are resilient.

The sound of footsteps made your ears perk up. You could not stop yourself from tilting your head to the direction of its origin. The omnipotence of adeptal energy dominated the air, making you dazed for a few seconds. However, there was a charming scent that you recognize. It belongs to a wild glaze lily, one especially helped to bloom by music.

Morax paused before where you sat, staring into your curious gaze looking up at him. The blindness clouded them yet your earnest intrigue made them shimmer glamorously. Autumn ginkgo leaves rain upon you whom sat beneath the shade of its tree, and he whom loomed over your mortal form. He lifts the glaze lily in his hand to bless its petals with a chaste kiss. Then, he slowly presents it to you.

A steady hand tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, planting the flower as an ornament. Your sensitive skin felt the callouses that must be from a lifetime of conquests. Alas, your cheeks only flush brightly at their tender caress. His fingertips glide through your tresses very subtly, giving you agency to pull away from his touch.

Morax pulls a lock of hair towards his lips, giving it the same attention as he did the glaze lily.

Then, with a promising smile, he lets go—

—and then vanishes in a blink.

That encounter was the first of many secrets you kept from your older sister.

A week later, a gentleman named Zhongli introduces himself to you. You narrow your eyes in suspicion and confusion. His presence, the aura of Rex Lapis, is unmistakable to you. Nevertheless, you respond with quiet acceptance while listening to his pulse settle down in relief.

It was not your place to question an archon anyway, nor is it your responsibility.

Aside from music, you always held fascination for botany. After refusing your sister's offer to live with her in the Jade Chamber, she built you an estate with a large garden and a quaint greenhouse. From here, you have invented a unique art known as Geo Crystalline Preservation. You use the flowers in your garden to crystallize them with your Vision, but retain their scent like a real flower. By this method, you manage to pluck wild glaze lilies and preserve their natural fragrance after cultivation.

Your first specimen was the glaze lily gifted by your archon, now a part of your circlet.

Suddenly, wild glaze lilies were being revived to its former vast numbers in your garden.

Your artform can be applied to anything too. It can become a stained glass decor, a clothing design, an unwilting bouquet, and even a way to preserve food ingredients. For this reason, your fresh business had immediately made connections with all sorts of exchange across Liyue Harbor. In turn, you have developed a very reliable information network that answers to nobody but yourself. Twice, a visit from Yelan made your heart swell with pride to know you have information that eludes her.

Zhongli was more of a consultant or an advisor who directs you to the most beneficial proposals. It can be most helpful whenever you felt lost in making critical decisions that require more tact. He even made it possible for you to create a strong alliance with the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A part of you is still uncertain if it was worth the hassle that the esteemed Young Master Xingqiu tends to bring to your doorstep.

By the words of Rex Lapis, the core foundation of contracts is fairness. Thus, you asked Zhongli what he wants in exchange for his hard work.

"I only wish for your company," Zhongli replied, "and—if you would allow it—a chance to court you."

A gentle kiss lands upon your forehead. It brought back flashes of your first meeting under the ginkgo tree, when he was a god rather than a mortal. You used names to keep them separate, yet this moment has proven that Zhongli is Rex Lapis and Morax.

A cor lapis by any other name would nonetheless be as resplendent.

Then, two years later, he proposed and you said yes.

That resulted to an interesting private discussion between Zhongli and Ningguang. Neither of them disclosed any details other than the fact your sister gave her sincere blessings for the marriage. The wedding was reserved yet was also nothing short of extravagant. The collaboration of your sister and fiancé had you expecting nothing less if you were being honest.

Another year later, the final Rite of Descension turns into a Rite of Parting.

You knew of Zhongli's plan. He had to confide the details to you, excluding the Tsaritsa's contract. It was the only way to persuade you into staying in Wangshu Inn for a few weeks, to make sure you do not get caught in the crossfire. He promises his intervention if all goes awry, if it endangers your sister as well as the rest of Liyue Harbor.

Then, it was all over.

Zhongli came home to kiss you with fervor you have never felt from him since your wedding night.

Later, the geo lines on his arms pulse with luminous glow in your marital bedroom. It reflected upon his amber eyes, pupils alternating between slits and dilation as his instincts purred. He closed his eyes with an inaudible sigh before projecting himself into your dreamscape.

As a blind person, you have an odd way of dreaming.

You only hear amidst the abyss and a composition always reverberates. When visited by him, everything gets reconstructed to a meadow of glaze lilies. At its heart is his Statue of the Seven. He had learnt that the imagery of stars twinkling above your heads is a sign that his own dreamscape had begun to merge with yours. A golden aurora borealis emanated pure geo energy, representing elemental resonance.

Always, the Geo Archon finds himself replacing his own self on the statue when he visits. He opens his eyes to the perspective of the statue. The illusionary Memory of Dust remains afloat beside him with a few geo crystalflies. He shall always find you fast asleep, wearing a hanfu composed of his colors. At times, your head is only resting on the armrest or his lap; and other times you are already in his arms. Then, he cradles you closely while he listens to the tunes you dream. He has grown familiar with most of them through your erhu. A few would baffle him, and he would then realize they are your unfinished compositions.

There was also one other reason he strictly kept you far from the events in the harbor.

You are with child.

Zhongli recalls the time you discussed the concept of illumination with him. It is the method of possibly enlightening a mortal to become an adeptus. The topic of you becoming immortal was only broached once and never again. Your own perspective in the matter was irrelevant, mostly because you were incompatible for the procedure. Although far from being an invalid, your constitution is not necessarily ideal for such arduous illumination.

The Lord of Geo was overjoyed when you relayed the news of your pregnancy the first time. Alas, when the celebratory mood had gone, the slap of reality finally registered.

This will be a difficult ordeal for you, carrying a child that is half-adeptus.

Yanfei was conceived and born by a human mother, delivered through a complicated pregnancy. The health concerns never seemed to end, and her mother's miraculous survival was only thanks to her tenacity according to her father. Even then, she is a mortal woman in perfectly good health.

If you were not capable of undergoing illumination, can you even survive this pregnancy?

No matter the answer though, Zhongli knows you are determined to persevere. For the sake of the life within your womb, you will endure all the hardships that will be thrown your way.

That fact is why he fell in love with you.

Perhaps, there was one thing he could do to help you even if it was not a full illumination.

As he once did for Azhdaha, the Lord of Geo can bless you the gift of sight.

You can see your child when they are born.

Zhongli lifts his head from where it rested on your crown. He tilts your chin up to gaze upon your visage and feel your breath against his skin. His fingertips grazed your eyelids, and the golden light of his geo energy engulfs the dreamscape. As everything fades into white, he leans down so his lips meet yours...

...and then, you both awaken.

However, for the first time, the haunting darkness that usually welcomed you has been replaced with color.

You saw a man hovering over you, lips millimeters apart from yours. Dark brown hair is embellished with honey gold, long strands gliding over his toned shoulders. Sharp amber eyes glared into yours, an unreadable sheen making them glow. Your hand reaches up to touch his fair cheek, thumb tracing the red outlining his gaze.

You realize. This is your husband.

"Zhongli...!" You gasped, tears in your eyes.

He smiles like a breathtaking work of art, a godly beauty that blessed you to be his wife.

"Hello, tian xin."

Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into an ecstatic embrace and blissful kiss. He obliges, taking all you have and giving you all that is his.

Someday, you will no longer stay by his side.

Nevertheless, the proof of your existence will live through your child—and so will the love, the miracle that conceived them, which you shared with him. As such, you will continue to shine like gold in his memories forevermore.

This is not a mere contract, but a solemn promise that even Celestia can never break—

"My memories of you are treasures not even erosion can steal away."

•☆••☆••☆•

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA is a free spirit undeterred by the might of the eternal lightning's glow. At the face of loss and grief, he continued to pursue the calling that has been delivered by nature's winds. Days are spent searching for truth with an old friend's legacy, a masterless Vision to accompany him across the unconquered seas. Nights are spent in mourning a home that disowned him, a moment to digress from the disgrace he was bestowed. His family name has always been a burden that weighed heavily on his heart, but his sword cuts down all obstacles by will of wind and cloud. The Archon who represented the element he wields preached the ideal of freedom, yet nobody ever spoke of its steep price. In contrast, the Archon of his homeland follows an eternity that rejects change and henceforth decrees to prohibit ambitions that yearn for it.

When a bird who wishes to fly is born in a nation that wants it caged, which path is seen as right to abide?

When a dream is not enough to conquer divine sovereignty, what sort of reality is left to live?

They say when the gods give you a blessing, you do not ask why it was sent. Alas, if that same gift has condemned you to a tormenting fate, what else can be done but question the reason behind it all?

Wings clipped yet uncaged,

The price of freedom is steep

Yet the bird still sings.

That was the answer Kazuha realized.

If nothing in hindsight can tell him what he wishes to know, then he must listen to the unseen. If neither god nor mortal can be persuaded with words, then perhaps he must find a better use for his voice.

Thus, the lost ronin let the wind lead...

...and he was saved by the lonely desert flower that thrived amidst the City of Contracts.

You were a fresh graduate from Sumeru, a brilliant scholar disillusioned by the leaking discrepancies of the Akademiya. They would have forced you to stay with threats thinly veiled as pleasant requests to promote the growth of wisdom. However, you knew the potential they see in you is naught but another way to cultivate the poison spreading deeper than the withering of the rainforests. It was only by aid of the former General Mahamatra that you managed to destroy all research the sages desperately wanted, and then narrowly escaped. Your freedom cost his position, but he reassures you that it gained him a friend—one he hopes can still find heart to return.

You promised him as much, the sincerest gratitude pulsing in your soul.

It was a little difficult to start from scratch, yet Liyue certainly helped as a city of commerce.

The only possessions you have left are the clothes you wear, the bow strapped to the quiver of arrows on your back, and whatever is stored as luggage on your shoulder bag. However, you hold an unyielding confidence in two things: your intelligence, and your Dendro Vision.

That is what eventually led you to apply for the recent job opening in Bubu Pharmacy.

Baizhu is a fair employer and an overall good person as company. He does feel a little suspicious with his odd remarks, especially in regards to his fragile state due to some unknown illness. He gives the vibe of someone who smiles politely yet always schemes something nefarious. Perhaps, it was your time with the corrupted sages that made you wary.

Nonetheless, he treats you well.

Moreover, he never once criticized your disability as a nuisance nor made you seem inferior for it.

Qiqi, on the other hand, is a very lovely and adorable girl with the occasional eccentricities. A knitted finch plush for her birthday was the deciding factor for her to proclaim you as her older sister. She keeps a particular notebook for every detail she discovers about you. Her free time is now spent cuddling with you for a nap, if not to help make your remedies.

Your cheeky boss commented that you both share the same eyes. He laughs when you glared at him for the implication that you look like an airheaded zombie. As an intellectual, it is not appreciated.

After a year of relishing your new life in Liyue, the heavens decided to throw another curveball.

As a renowned healer in Bubu Pharmacy, there have been many patrons that come to you for any sort of emergency. It is the real term of employment that makes Baizhu pay you heftily, at least compared to his other employees. It is also why your colleagues and some citizens in the harbor consider you the pharmacy's second doctor. Your affinity for dendro has greatly progressed any medicinal research. Your accompaniment of Qiqi allowed the forgetful zombie to discover new herbs—not much use alone, but vital ingredients in brewing affordable remedies.

Thus, one stormy night, a woman named Beidou came barging on your door.

"Lady Doc," she called out boisterously, "I need a little help here!"

A young man, bloodied and bruised, was on her back and worryingly limp. The famous captain of the Crux Fleet had a strained smirk on her face, and the rest of her was roughed up. Whatever ordeal they had to endure, it must have been truly dangerous.

Without further questioning, you provided treatment to these unexpected patients. Being informed that the man is a foreign fugitive made no difference to you. From his clothes, you have easily deduced that he is from Inazuma—which allowed your mind to fill in all the blanks on why he was condemned. After all, news had traveled fast across nations about the Sakoku Decree and the closing of Inazuma's borders. You take pride in your oath as a healer to treat anyone in need of care indiscriminately. If they end up doing harm to others afterwards, then you deal with it just as accordingly.

However, the lady captain is a woman of integrity and so you chose to trust her judgment.

What did annoy you was how Beidou decided to just leave a wanted ronin in your care. All she left was a note to take care of him—Kazuha, she says—and a winky face signed at the bottom. She also snatched a bottle of rum from your liquor stash.

Pirates can really sniff out any hidden treasure in a matter of seconds.

Qiqi visits you that afternoon. This is the routine if you are ever tardy or absent during working hours. It was part of your contract since Baizhu is well aware that being an accomplished doctor can attract the wrong sort of crowd. Not to mention, he has been informed of your situation with the Akademiya. The zombie's visits are to ensure your well-being. She will report to the Millelith directly, per Baizhu's instruction, if she thinks anything feels off.

You gave Qiqi a notice to deliver to Baizhu, a request for a short leave. It was the usual for whenever you become busy in treating personal patients. A small bottle of coconut milk was also given as reward for the little zombie's troubles. Her lips twitch up to a small smile as her eyes gain an affectionate haze.

"Thank you, jiejie." She says.

After receiving a headpat from you, she skips away adorably and giddily.

You closed the door with a sigh, turning to go back and tend to your patient. However, you were met with a glistening blade to your face and a pair of dazed yet still menacing red eyes. They glare at you defensively behind silver white fringes.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Kazuha demands.

To your chagrin, you fainted from shock.

Kazuha finds the note from Beidou which clarified the situation to him. He apologized profusely as his pale cheeks blushed from embarrassment.

A year later, that not-so-pleasant first impression has paved the way to an unlikely romance.

You stand by the docks of Liyue Harbor, anxiously waiting for the return of the Alcor. The last time you heard from your lover, he has informed you via letter that the Vision Hunt Decree was no more—thanks to the Traveler. However, he did not immediately return to your side for personal reasons. You did not pry, a touching act of understanding that deepened his affections for you. Kazuha promised that once he has tied the last loose ends of his past, he will never allow himself to part from you.

A part of you wondered if you are willing to do the same. There is a significant difference between the both of you that had caused conflict in the past.

Kaedehara Kazuha is a free spirit, always following wherever the wind leads him.

You are a person who thrives by staying in one place, like a blossom in fertile soil.

If given the choice, will he allow himself to stay tied down to you? Similarly, are you capable of uprooting yourself just to be with him?

The scent of maple leaves carried by the salty ocean breeze snaps you out of reverie. A delighted smile brightens your lovely features, knowing this aroma can only belong to one person.

Kazuha stands meters away with a heartfelt smile and a smitten look in his crimson eyes. He holds his arms open, and that was your cue to run towards his direction. The momentum caused you both to spin as he caught you, yet your lover only laughed at your enthusiasm. A mild tremble in his arms allowed you to know that he has missed you just as much.

"I'm back." He murmurs.

You tighten the embrace while he plants a lingering kiss upon your crown. His bandaged hand combs through your hair, smiling as petals were swept by his fingertips. A couple of yellow roses and pink carnations blossom from your intricate braids.

"Welcome back." You mumbled raspily.

Kazuha effortlessly hears your words that tend to go unspoken. You kept seeds in your hair ornaments as easy access for herbs by making them bloom with your Vision. At times, he plucks a leaf or two from them to play a tune for you. Even if you cannot hear it, you always present him a jubilant smile and an appreciative applause.

"Come with me." He signed to you.

Taking you by the hand, the humble samurai leads you to a secret meadow in a cove. It is a rendezvous spot known only to you and him, a fortress of respite and solitude from the world. A single oak tree stood at the center, where it is rooted firmly upon the patch of land surrounded by water. The lake and running streams glimmer, a hint of salt permeating the air to connote their origins. The rocky ceilings are sturdy yet possess fissures that allowed light to shine upon the clear waters. The many luminous corals provide illumination deep in the darkness, as sea creatures have made themselves at home. Various beds of flowers engulf the soil with vines crawling along the wooden trunk, showing age lines on its bark.

Kazuha gently sweeps you into his arms and uses his Vision to float over the bodies of water. He puts you on the flowerbeds, promptly lying down with his head on your lap.

You blink at him confusedly for a moment while he only smiled innocently. A giggle escapes your lips, indulging him as your fingers languidly ran through his hair. Your eyes are entirely on him, either reading his lips or paying attention to his signs as he led the conversation. He told you of his visit to his friend's grave, and how he wishes to take you there someday to introduce you.

The idea made you pause only for a split second, but your ever attentive lover notices anyway.

His crimson eyes open, catching your own forlorn gaze. His hand reaches up to your face, caressing to comfort.

"I also went to a special place afterwards with the Traveler, a unique archipelago that reflects one's heart." He said slowly, "The experience made me realize a few things about myself..."

His words trail off as his free hand takes yours to pull it towards his lips. Your knuckles are grazed by his tokens of affection, and heat covers your cheeks in response to his adoration. Kazuha kept his eyes on you, fondness swirling within their depths.

"...and it also gave me an epiphany about you."

At his words, he gradually sits up yet your hands are still entwined. Fair strands of silver-white glide along his movements, framing his youthful features.

Kazuha is always most enchanting to you whenever he lets his hair loose.

"I want to marry you, [Name]."

To emphasize his words, Kazuha procures a ring of sterling silver. Small rubies decorate its exterior to form the design of red maple leaves. A single name is engraved along the interior side using traditional Inazuman letters. You have seen it so many times that you knew how to read it even if you were not as fluent in the language.

楓原. Kaedehara.

A flicker of fear seeped into your wide eyes, but the steady hold of your lover's hand kept you anchored to reality. You know what he is asking of you and what he is offering in return. This ronin is willing to bind himself to you, boldly and fearlessly.

"On my next voyage," Kazuha says, "come with me to Inazuma. I wish to marry you in my homeland. There is little left to my noble name, but it would be my greatest joy to share it with you—"

He smiles wistfully, "—if you would have me."

Once again, the question confronts you.

Are you willing to do the same for him?

Kazuha receives your answer in the form of a vine wrapping around your entwined hands. It gravitates to his wrist like a corsage, and then blossoms.

His own eyes widen in glee as red and white freesias decorated the vine. The flower of ultimate trust coated in the color of passion and purity.

You are saying—

"Yes."

Kazuha almost sobs in relief as his hands shook but manages to slide the ring onto your finger. Suddenly, you tackle him in happiness to plant your lips upon his own vigorously. He returns your fervor, cupping your face to deepen the passionate kiss.

A soft zephyr blew within the cove, rippling the water and fluttering the leaves alongside the petals. It is a dance that unites two hearts as one, consummating a bond as everlasting as lightning.

Nobody could ever know your heart the way Kazuha does, and so it shall be his right to claim it. Similarly, no soul other than yours can encourage his spirit yet still enrapture it with the ties that bind.

Henceforth, this pair of soulmates will prosper with or without a divine blessing—

Soulbound, windsong bloom Amidst strife of unheard voice Love called me to you.

•☆••☆••☆•

KAMISATO AYATO is a man whose heart seeks an equally capable partner. The idea of one day having to choose another half is something to consider as part of his duty. After all, the head of a noble clan is responsible for ensuring that its bloodline continues to prosper. To sire an heir, he must someday select a bride. His choice will lead to the rise of a matriarch within the Kamisato Clan. It must be a woman with the caliber to lead as the gentle hand of the Yashiro Commission to his iron fist. A fierce yet kind soul is necessary to command the Shuumatsuban in his place should the need ever arise. Furthermore, if he must eventually settle for a loveless marriage, his desire is to at least gain a lifelong friend. They must have the same depth of loyalty to his family, and the same headstrong resolve to uphold their principles.

Otherwise, he is very certain any other whom wishes to stand by his side will only break. With how he acts and carries himself, the people of Inazuma are more inclined to agree. Indeed, a wife less than up to par would be nothing short of disappointing.

Be that as it may, the Yashiro Commissioner can be a complicated man to love.

Ayato is a man who lives his life wearing a thousand masks, with little to no distinction between his true self and facades. At the early deaths of his parents, he was a young boy that had been forced into the lethal grind of political battles. To protect his little sister, he took up the blade to eliminate those who threaten them amidst the power struggle.

Just like that, his heart became a closely guarded vault privy to a trusted few.

Loving Ayato is likened to water, the same element he wields as weapon and shield. In calm days, he is transparent and clear to see. In chaotic nights, his own motives are harder to understand. There are times he can be as volatile as rapids, and others be as nurturing as a cool spring.

The most dangerous thing about loving Ayato is if you allow yourself to drown in him.

Alas, all of Inazuma is left dumbfounded when he abruptly announces his marriage to you.

The Yashiro Commissioner had gone missing for a week. A note with his penmanship claims he has a personal errand to run. Then, he returns to the estate—holding your hand while another clenches a scroll, sealed by the wax insignia of the Narukami Shrine and the Raiden Shogun. A glance at your respective hands reveal the glint of silver wedding bands, with camellia flower engravements filled by white jade.

Kamisato Ayato eloped with you.

"From here onwards," Ayato declared, "[Name] shall be living in the Kamisato Estate as my wife. Please treat her with the same respect you do for me."

The idea seems to intimidate you, a frown tugging your lips. Your husband, however, squeezed your hand in reassurance. Pacified, you end up snuggling your cheek onto his arm. The action is successful in grounding your senses, focusing on Ayato's scent and body heat. He obliges this by gently pulling you closer, practically trapping your own arm to his side.

Ayaka hid a smile of amusement behind her fan, as her eyes softened in endearment.

"Of course, brother." She replied.

Thoma nodded, beaming in welcome as you peeked at him and the young miss. Despite their slightest reservation upon this rushed turn of events, they trust Ayato.

Although, the Shirasagi Himegimi cannot help but feel you looked somewhat familiar.

You are a very peculiar woman, especially in a nation as conservative and traditional as Inazuma. In fact, some believe you seem more like an antithesis to your husband. Whereas he is always poised and very composed, there is always an untamed ferocity in you that refuses to comply to social norms. You can nonetheless dress as elegantly as any other noble aristocrat, speak as eloquently as any well-educated lady. If not for your infamous eccentricities, nobody would have doubted why Ayato chose you. It is quite renowned by gossipers that you shamelessly stroll Inazuma City in a commoner's yukata—a messy bun for a hairstyle, and sometimes going barefoot. You despise social events and acted more elusive than your husband.

The servants were initially wary yet none of them can deny your positive influence. The household has never been so efficient and organized until you took on managing its affairs. Thoma was astonished to realize that he ended up with more free time under your authority. The meticulous way you stick to a form of schedule and your quick wit to adapt have enabled the Kamisato Estate to operate smoothly, with or without the siblings present. In fact, some unique tasks you assign to Thoma aided him into securing businesses in Ritou. As equal exchange for your patronage, you have flawlessly expanded the Shuumatsuban's spy network.

Ayaka also found respite in her endeavors as face of the clan. She initially had a difficult time with being your mentor of sorts in the life of nobility. However, your creativity in problem solving and innovative thinking has been great in helping balance her own matters.

Thoma began to understand your ways when he has become in charge of all your meals. There is a set routine for every day of the week, and then a specific assortment of snacks with tea expected at certain hours. Each ingredient is meticulously picked and every dish is carefully prepared. If even one thing is out of place, you will notice with a single bite/sip and you would refuse to eat—which results to a very moody mistress for the rest of the estate.

It was only thanks to how well Ayato knew you that everyone else was able to keep up. He is aware of all factors to your behavior and how to aptly respond to them. His stern yet precise instructions left no room for mistakes if it meant taking care of you properly in his absence. It was as if he grew up with you due to the sheer amount of experience he has in how to deal with your odd patterns.

As months passed, Ayaka finally realized.

That is because her brother did grow up with you.

Ayato met you long ago when he was a mere lonely boy, burdened with the title of clan heir. He found you digging around the beach near his estate, an Electro Vision on your waist. A line of seashells were set on a flat rock beside you, all arranged by type as rows and by size as columns.

You glanced up at him. Your Vision flickers, making him tense—

—and then lightning struck the sands.

As a boy, Ayato watched in awe as the grains turned into glass. You manipulated the temperature of the element, heating the sand in quick seconds to create multiple pieces. He ended up getting closer, and it was enough to spook you. After you were finished, you hastily stood up and collected your things before sprinting away.

"Wait...!" Ayato exclaimed.

You did not listen.

The young master pouted, thinking he would never see you again. It was a shame since he found you so fascinating. He looked down and saw some strange hollow tubes in the shores, resembling coral.

That day, he went home a little despondent.

Ayato was pleasantly surprised to see you again the next day—same place, same hour. You are polishing the shells this time, and occasionally refining them to the shape you want. Small pots of paint surround you, and the Electro Vision is pulsing to be used at any given notice.

This time, you did not run when he got close.

"Fulgurite."

He flinches as you suddenly spoke. Your eyes were focused on the glass tubes he picked up. They hung from the string of his obi now, which got odd looks from his parents a while ago.

"These...?"

You nodded, "They are fulgurites. You can use them to make jewelry. Want to see?"

That was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Ayato figures out your schedule and how you like sticking to it, so he never misses out on visiting you. It was actually something you never minded as long as he remained consistent. The times when he did not get the memo, you got annoyed and told him harshly to stop showing up. At first, he felt hurt since he misunderstood. Thankfully, he was mature enough to clarify it with you. Since then, he promised his arrival only on particular days wherein he can assure his free time. At his words, you acted less bothered by his presence and worked on your craft.

The two of you grew up together in those constant stolen moments. He finds out you have a younger brother, and he tells you he has a younger sister. On weekends, you are not on the beach. That is the only time your brother is able to spend time with you instead of honing his swordsmanship.

In stormy days, he had to struggle pulling you into the estate. Every time, he braced himself for your ire but patiently coaxes you over it. The most effective method is to occupy your mind with something else, and let your hands be busy crafting. Once you are fixated, Ayato can be allowed into your safe space again and he is able to take care of you. Henceforth, rainy days are spent in his estate and that became the new norm for your daily routine. Ayato adapts by creating amendments to your unhealthy habits.

You still persistently argue that storms are perfect for making petrified lightning glass.

Nevertheless, you express gratitude for his sincere care and affection. No one has ever been so doting on you aside from your brother. In turn, Ayato felt touched that you treat him as one of the only two people you explicitly trust. You even adjust yourself to be considerate of his own needs, despite the clear discomfort it sometimes caused you.

When his parents died, you were his greatest pillar of support.

Ayato has always known to never underestimate you in any way. What made you different did not make you dumb. In fact, it is revealed in that dark period that you were more brilliant than your peers. It was only thanks to your guidance that he found direction how to proceed. It was due to your judgment that he knew who to trust, which ties needed to be severed for safety. Every critical decision was consulted by you, and he was awed when the results you predict come to fruition. When his demons made him lose sleep, you provided relief by playing with his hair.

When he finally triumphed in the succession, you gave him a precious gift.

You smiled. Of utmost sincerity, you smiled ever so sweetly and so warmly.

That is the day Ayato knew you were the one.

Unfortunately, he had taken too long to confess that to you. Too many years slipped past his fingers due to his obligations.

Then, the Vision Hunt Decree happened—

—and you went missing.

A young man named Kaedehara Kazuha barged into his estate, panicked and distressed. He called for Ayato, kneeling as he pleaded for help in finding his older sister—you. The wind has gone silent regarding your whereabouts, and he feared the worst due to the recent decree.

Of course, the Yashiro Commissioner wasted no time in utilizing his power to be of aid.

It was for naught.

Soon, he could not even protect your brother when the young man was branded as a wanted criminal.

Kazuha witnessed the love Ayato holds for you—a passion he deems worthy of his kin. He knew of the bond you shared with him, which is why he came to the man for help. Meeting the man personally, the winds crooned in approval—to which the ronin only smiled, a little resigned yet mostly relieved.

Someone else can take care of you now.

"Aneue spoke of you fondly." He said, "If anyone can find her, it's you."

The younger male presents him a box.

"She called it a tassel chime," Kazuha explained, "and referred to that piece as Rainmaker."

It contains a small windchime in the size and design of a tassel, thus the name. A pair of clamshells tie the knot for the noose. Camellias on rippling waters is carved onto the blue glass, painted with glittering golden lacquer. Instead of a striker, a ball of glowing white jade is inside the spherical glass with a cowrie shell at its base. The tail is a familiar indigo satin ribbon, his gift to you on the last Irodori Festival. His name is embroidered in your favorite fulgurite threads, and yours on the other side:

Kaedehara [Name].

Ayato knew this is the equivalent of a blessing. He ties it to his sword, aware by use of elemental sight that the energy within it will prevent the glass from breaking even in a skirmish. He makes a promise to your brother that he will stop at nothing to find you, and ask for your hand in marriage.

Eventually, he did.

You stood in an abandoned temple amidst the call of summer. The crystalflies illuminated your form, and the water shimmered like liquid diamonds. Tinkling sounds echoed in Chinju Forest, as the sails of windchimes blew with the nightly breeze.

"[Name]..."

At the call of your name, you turned to face him and Ayato embraces you immediately.

"I want to go home." You murmur.

The broken tone of your voice devastated him, and he nods while tightening his arms. You hugged him back, hiding your face on his chest while his nuzzled your shoulder.

"Yes, let's go home now." He whispered.

The Yashiro Commissioner spared nothing at your expense. He used the name of Kamisato to protect you. As his wife, you are now an integral part of the Tri-Commission and one with the Raiden Shogun's faction. You cannot be touched by the decree like your brother feared. Although you desire no riches, Ayato sought to provide something that will soothe your unease at the drastic changes in your life.

Thus, in an isolated wing of the estate, there was your personal workshop.

A safe haven. All for you.

Ayato leaned back with you in his arms, cuddling by the veranda. You were sorting through your brother's letters, worried, and missing him dearly. Looking up at your husband, he smiles and kisses you fervently.

"I'm here." He reassures.

You wrap your arms around his neck in response, snuggling his chest to nap. He adjusts you on his lap and rewraps the blanket around you. His long fingers comb through your hair, humming contently.

Heartbound lullabies in hiraeth, ever so mellifluous—

"You are my clarity amidst sullied waters, a wish to forever keep."

•☆••☆••☆•

THOMA is an ordinary ember within a hearth filled by unfathamoble wonders. He was born from a marital union between a woman of Mondstadt and a man of Inazuma. Amidst these contrasting cultures, he grew up fitting into the crevices resembling lacquer filling the cracks of porcelain. As a young man, he became quite a jack-of-all-trades that can help practically anyone in need—no matter the odd job presented to his capable hands. On his free time, he shares small treats with homeless animals. He fights off the urge to adopt every single one, and remains content to supply them a sanctuary. Perhaps, a part of him feels a kinship as he sometimes fancies seeing his own image to be that of a stray. Having two origins can often lead to confusion of where a person truly belongs.

Alas, this blond fixer-upper carries a beaming smile every time he greets the sun. For him, bridging gaps presents a hidden beauty that can only be found in imperfections, fixing the broken yet appreciating its flaws. While he does not always have a solution for everything, it never stopped him from trying.

Nevertheless, there have been times wherein Thoma also seeks some respite.

The Sakoku Decree added to it.

What terrifies him the most is having something to lose, more than just his Vision—

"Thoma, darling, where are you?"

"Ah!" He yelps as he stumbles towards the direction of your voice, "Over here, [Name]!"

—and that is someone to protect.

Bright green eyes see you turn up at the entrance of Komore Teahouse. You sat daintily and elegantly on your wheelchair, a carefully wrapped bento resting upon your lap. Despite being a mere commoner, you carried yourself with a dignity that can rival even the most affluent nobles of Inazuma. Being dependent on a metal seat never deterred people from feeling the promise of recompense should you be slighted.

Thoma smiles tenderly as he meets your gaze, to which you respond heartily.

The bout of excitement caused you to unwittingly freeze the ground beneath you. Swiftly, your lover discreetly melts it away by going near you before any guards notice your small demonstration. His eyes glanced around the perimeter to double-check, sighing in relief when he deems it safe.

"Ah," you gasped, "I'm sorry."

He chuckles nervously, "It's fine."

You and Thoma are childhood sweethearts. You were a very lonely orphan raised by the nuns. That played a part to your distinguished mannerisms. The Church of Favonius had instilled the etiquettes of a proper lady upon you at a young age. It probably made them all the more protective due to how you were paralyzed from the waist down. This made you bond with a girl named Glory, whom also lives with a disability that left her world dark since her birth. Of course, that did not halt you from sneaking out to play in the streets and getting your dresses dirty. A short adventure is what led you to meet the young blond boy whom quickly became your world. He, who offered a hand, took you to many other such adventures rather than persuading you to stay at home like an invalid.

"Life is short," he said, "you ought to relish it the best way you can rather than obsessing over what you can't do. I'll be your friend to help!"

Thoma showed you how to seize the day and claim the world as your own. He spent each Windblume proving it by giving you mismatched flower crowns, trying his best with clumsy fingers. You were invited into his home countless times as if it was yours too, with warm family dinners and cozy sleepovers. All that he could share with you, he did so with utter delight as if it was a privilege to be your friend—even if you felt it should be the other way.

Can anyone really blame you for being so smitten even as a young girl?

When he decided to set off for Inazuma, you did not hesitate to go with him.

The nuns were sad to see you leave, but the will of Barbatos clearly blessed you for it. The thousand winds have spoken, and they wish to lead you to the boy that has won your heart.

Life in Inazuma did not start as smoothly as you both had wanted. Your boat got wrecked in the storm but, for that one time, it became your turn to protect Thoma—to be the knight. Fear came first like a coiling serpent around your heart, and then you felt the warmth of his arms covering you. They stayed determined even as they shook, and your soul was inspired to take action. Heat turned into blistering coldness that froze every drop of rain, turning them into icicles in the shape of sakura petals. Together, they converged as fractals that carried you and your beau to safety within a dome of ice.

At the face of the eternal lightning, a blizzard defied the gods and earned their favor in turn.

The eye of storm was you.

From then onwards, the Kamisato Clan provided you both a home and way of sustenance. In gratitude, Thoma did everything he could as proper repayment; and whomever wins his favor shall have yours. At some point, you found a stable job for yourself in the Yae Publishing House as a minor editor. However, the keen amethyst gaze that focused upon you saw something else—a hidden gem brimming with the potential to move hearts via the quill.

Apparently, your calling is to be a writer.

Guuji Yae herself had mentored you after growing fond of your little snippets she caught in drafts. It got lost amongst the transcripts you were editing and ended up in her hands. A part of you suspected she blatantly stole it like the cunning vixen she truly is, no matter how nicely she treats you. Nonetheless, you were grateful for her direction since the kitsune remained sincere in her platonic affections for you—especially when you dedicated your second novella to her. The first was obviously for Thoma, featuring Mondstadt and then the Kamisato Clan.

Both were shocking bestsellers immediately, and Yae Miko sought to reward you.

"Would you like me to personally officiate your wedding someday?" She teased.

You blushed heavily at the sheer thought of marrying Thoma, excited yet flustered. Your words stuttered and the pink vixen only laughed at how adorable you looked. She was so tempted to pinch those soft and rosy cheeks but practiced her restraint.

You fiddled with your fingers as you turned away to watch the cherry blossom rain.

"Maybe someday..."

A pair of pink fox ears twitched upon hearing your gentle whisper. It sounded every bit like a woman in love, passionate and unconditional. A genuine smile shows itself on the Guuji's lovely face, feeling her own heart swell at the face of true romance. It may not be her favorite genre, but it was still dazzling to see in real life—especially amidst treacherous times.

"Then," Yae chuckled, "just set a date and I shall ensure to keep my schedule free...like tomorrow~!"

You blush again and whined for her to stop teasing just once. This time, she did not resist pinching you while she fawned over your pathetically whimpering self.

Perhaps, marriage can be in your future with Thoma if fate shall someday allow it. He was really the only one you can really see beside you until death do you part. In that perspective, you can comprehend a bit of the eternity that the Raiden Shogun so earnestly preaches and imposes.

For now, you were content to just let things naturally take its course—and that means indulging a lunch date with your boyfriend.

Thoma noticed that you have grown busier since that lunch date. He shrugged it off since you did mention your new tedious tasks in the publishing house. A part of him worried for your health but he also trusted the fact you would tell him anything amiss. In the meantime, he focused on the odd jobs he had to do in Ritou as well as housekeeping for the Kamisatos as per usual. It was a little challenging sometimes to even manage to share a meal or a bed together nowadays.

You have missed each other dearly.

Therefore, he felt his world crumble when he finally unveiled your secret.

Yae Miko sent a missive to the Kamisato Clan, in which she asked for a private audience. She insisted for Thoma and Ayaka to visit the Narukami Shrine, to which they obliged curiously. They surely did not expect Shikanoin Heizou to also be seated in the Guuji's secluded waiting room.

"A propaganda...?" Thoma said in disbelief.

A series of light novels have been distributed to the masses. It featured a story that referenced the tales of allogenes whose Visions have been confiscated, and the gruesome confrontations with Watatsumi Island as a result of the ongoing civil war. The plot is a very clever camouflage. On hindsight, the premise was written in such an ingenious way that none of the novels can really be used as legitimate proof of treason. They were inconspicuously clean enough to be dismissed as fiction. Alas, rumors have spread about the rebels gaining more manpower by the day since the publication of the novels. Thus, Kujou Sara suspected that the supposedly innocent pieces of literature were being used as tools of espionage and communication.

It was enough to warrant an investigation.

The detective nodded gravely, "Their identity has not been revealed since they use a pen name. We did deduce a pattern of sorts but nothing conclusive."

"By that," Yae interjects smoothly, "nothing that the Tenryou Commission can use to gain an official arrest warrant."

Ayaka opens her fan to shield the lower half of her face, retaining composure.

"You have a suspect?" She inquired.

"It's quite elementary." Heizou smirked wryly, "The culprit simply needs three things to accomplish this impressively troublesome feat."

He held up an index finger, "They hold power in the media—specifically journalism—which means they are associated with a prestigious publishing house that enables them to release works anonymously."

His light olive green eyes glanced at the kitsune, whom was sipping her tea calmly.

"Next, they work with an organization that functions as a stealth protection service. This is what has kept them safe in the shadows, while eluding the pursuit of the Tenryou Commission."

He then glances at Ayaka, particularly alluding to the Shuumatsuban of the Yashiro Commission.

"Finally," he then meets Thoma's eyes, "they have an extensively developed information network. This can be achieved if they make social connections daily, or simply just by being a figure trusted by the civilians."

Heizou smiled blithely, "There is also the fact I have noticed a pretty dove looking into the Visions that have been confiscated by the recent decree..."

An almost remorseful sigh escapes his lips.

"...and I may have shared a thing or two about the names of these Visions' owners."

"So this is your fault~?" Yae sang mockingly.

It was perfectly clear to everyone in the room.

You are the prime suspect that Heizou is targeting.

Thoma should have seen this coming. He was not blind to how you so deeply empathize with those affected by the recent decrees. There have been nights wherein he saw you staring balefully at your Vision—not for having it, but for being unable to proudly wield it.

"What is to be done?" He asked.

Heizou frowned sympathetically, "I am partly at fault which is why I sought to lead the investigation. I will not arrest her since, as mentioned, there is truly no sufficient evidence for a warrant."

A wave of relief for everyone, yet Thoma froze at the cold glare from the detective.

"However," he said, "we do need to close the case if only to get Sara off our backs. Investigations have found traces of elemental energy—cryo, to be precise—in the books to keep it preserved from aging or being destroyed. I can use that to push for the closing of the case."

Ayaka grimaced behind her fan, "You mean to say that she—"

"—needs to surrender her Vision." Heizou nods, "It will be my proof to Kujou Sara that the suspect has been apprehended and no longer a threat."

"Of course," he looked at Yae, "this also means you will have to suspend Miss [Name] from making any more of those controversial novels."

The priestess sighs morosely, "How dull."

In the end, Thoma's shield could not protect your own ambitions.

You made no fuss in handing over your Vision to the young detective. In fact, you seem almost at peace if not for the flicker of resentment in your eyes as they look upon Tenshukaku. When Heizou left, Yae and the Kamisato siblings have asked why you put up no fight despite your avid rebellion so far.

"I have done my part in this battle," you said, "and the rest is up to those who will face Baal."

The fact you so boldly used the Shogun's god name showed your obstinate courage.

Yae, in particular, grinned slyly as she has proven herself once again to have an eye for talent.

Ayato and Ayaka remarked how Thoma is truly lucky to have someone like you.

Regardless, some things cannot be defeated by will alone. The loss of your Vision gradually took a toll on you like the rest. You grew physically weaker, at times unable to leave bedrest. You became mentally absent, missing portions of your day often. Soon, Yae did not even need to suspend you whom already struggled to write anything of worth now.

Thoma has lost count how many sleepless nights he had woken up to your shaking form, and then having to comfort you in his embrace. The entire Kamisato Estate can hear your raw and mournful wails as they also felt your loss from afar. Your personal study has been ransacked due to frustrated anger—with inkwells spilled, parchments either left crumpled or torn, and splinters of broken brushes scattered on the floor. All your lover could do was put back the pieces of your broken heart in a frail effort to keep it from being bled dry. Pain and sorrow meant that you have not gone empty, meaning you still fight even while hopeless.

The Traveler steps into the docks of Inazuma from aboard the Alcor.

"Ahoy there!" Thoma greeted.

He could not salvage your dreams yet he does not falter in carrying your heart. Unfortunately, the storm was still ruthlessly devouring you. There may not be anything left of you in the end if this continues.

Nevertheless, he refuses to bow down and just give up on you now.

Regimes can be toppled, kings overthrown, and he would conquer all because—

"I am the shield of fire to her lance of ice, steadfast as we are defiant."

•☆••☆••☆•

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

Waking Up A Lying Dragon (Yandere!Morax/Reader)

A/n: I do not condone any "yandere" actions in real life, this is just a twisted version of the character for entertainment. This will also just be a loose interpretation/version of the myth "Bakunawa". I'm not very knowledgeable on the topic. I'm very sorry if the details were so off. ((I swear I'm not obsessed with the master/servant troupe this fic is just in my drafts way before yandere ayato lmao))

Unreliable synopsis: A widow/er gets exiled to Teyvat, only to realize it is worse than prison.

Cw: Canon Divergence. Yandere themes. Power imbalance. Mostly gn!reader (the reader likes women.)

------------

There is a saying you've heard in Qingce Village long ago. Your memory is weak now, but it went along the lines of "it is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep." The verbatim phrase had slowly eroded over time, as you can only pick up synonyms on what you hope the original passage was, but the meaning stands true.

You know well how much harder it is to convince those who chose to be ignorant more than those who are uneducated. Your world had always been a sea of ignoramuses and greed, the present is no different. You need only look at the man beside you for that frustration to resurface.

On a sunny day like this, you wished you can bask in the morning sun alone. "Zhongli", as he calls himself these days, sits with such eloquence and calm beside you that one would easily mistake him to be a righteous man. You scoffed. He is not.

Noticing your gaze, Zhongli straightened up. He adjusted his collar as a faint blush powdered his cheeks. There is a subtle smile on his face as he takes a small sip from his cup. You felt your stomach churn. Just what did he take your glare for? Although he is debatably more salacious in this new form he had taken, your gripe with him won't ever bubble to lust. You refuse to allow it.

You turned away. Hate him or not, you just can't win against him.

"For this lovely afternoon, we gather around here today to recall the tale of Rex Lapis's feat of sealing the terrifying sea dragon, Bakunawa! They are an absolutely perilous dragon that resides on Liyue's seas and our nation's greatest traitor! It is a story told often and one all of our children have heard, yet there had been recent developments found by the wonderful scholars of Sumeru, so keep your ears open!"

Iron Tongue Tian spoke in his usual velvety voice. Most passersby in the streets perked up upon hearing his implications of ancient discoveries.

You shook your head.

Bakunawa was a remarkable traitor in Liyue's Legends. With the archon's passing, it would be low for the storyteller to spread false news, right? Well. You have a fair share of encounters with corrupt and misinformed individuals so you're not placing bets on any of these.

You and Zhongli simultaneously placed your teacups down and eyed Iron Tongue Tian.

"So listen, let me tell you how it is... The tale begins centuries before the archon war, as a well-renowned xiezhi approaches Rex Lapis in candor..."

-----

"Salutations, Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis! This humble servant calls to bring forth news, should thee wish to hear it."

An illuminated immortal beast called out to him and bowed. Morax did not expect a xiezhi to approach him at this hour, but with how strangely uneven its breathing was it must be urgent. It's an even more curious thing for the intelligent ox-like beast not to label the news in either a positive or negative light. Especially when Rex Lapis himself bestowed these adepti the ability of hypersensitive tell spotting for the sake of maintaining law and order.

There are rarely any visitors allowed to enter Morax's domain. Considering how this was Yanfei's father, a friend of his, who was sent to deliver the message, it must be urgent.

Morax, in his human form, clothed himself with a lengthy hanfu with earthly tones. He may only be equipped with a fan and a pipe, but his presence alone is enough to make anyone tremble. The xiezhi learned of Rex Lapis' philosophies of Gold, and this is just one of many ways he displays placid intimidation. Who would even dare make a misstep when the Lord of Geo stood before them?

"Speak."

The pink-haired xiezhi lifted his head.

"There is a water dragon who trespassed Mount Hulao," he said. "They appear to be an outlander outside Teyvat. They're not particularly hostile, but they do not allow humans to interact with their nest either."

His gaze sharpened. "The dragon already nested in the mountains?"

"Yes, my Lord. They have already formed a domain for themselves by the lake, but Mountain Shaper's adamant on allowing them respite, if only for a moment..."

Morax hummed, uprooting the Vortex Vanquisher from the cracked earth. The xiezhi took a reluctant step back. The earth rattled in Morax's footsteps, and the way his golden light flickered through the cracks was amiss in his usual walks. Something tells the xiezhi that this was planned, yet he has yet to lay a finger on what caused his mood to churn into unusual distress.

"Then, shall you collect a few things for me?"

The xiezhi appeared visibly confused. His Lord would rarely ask for his assistance, as he preferred lower adepti to do his biddings. Perhaps this was a sign that this is more confidential than he thought.

He nodded. "What is it that you wish for, my Lord?"

Morax pulled out a list from thin air. The parchment is pink and laced with a hint of gold. The xiezhi could slightly see through the paper and noticed how the handwriting is akin to Lord Guizhong. He bowed his head to avoid accidentally being on the receiving end of Morax's wrath.

"Hold your head up high, dear friend," Morax spoke as he handed him the scroll. The Adeptus nervously grabbed the list "it is your job to find the ingredients listed here."

Rex Lapis did not lie, the paper is filled with ingredients. However, the xiezhi expected it to be an instruction for smithing a powerful weapon, yet this was a guide on making "good tea". The poor lawyer cannot tell whether this was better than mining cor lapises or not, as one of the requirements entails a need to harvest violetgrass. Still, he would suck it up. Especially if he wants to be married to his mortal fiancé before winter comes.

The xiezhi gulped "T-tea recipes, my Lord?"

"Yes," Morax nodded, yet oddly enough there is a smile behind his stoic eyes.

"It would be rude not to entertain guests, is that not right?"

---------

Morax entered the domain with ease. His guess was right that the rumored water dragon wouldn't endanger any of their visitors, as there was not a single hint of a trap or weapon. If anything, the realm was picturesque, with limitless orange striped skies, unfamiliar trees, and tropical pearls. The scenery was a stark contrast to the ones observed in Guili Plains. He can hear water flowing in a small stream.

Was this meant to replicate their old home? Perhaps that is why the dragon chose Liyue. The north cannot accommodate those with warm tastes.

Morax instinctively reached for his weapon as he noticed something walking toward him.

"Greetings to the one who governs the Plains of Returning and Departing. I am Bakunawa, a Sea Dragon from outside Teyvat, and I'm humbled to be acquainted with Your Grace."

His alert demeanor stilled and his breath hitched.

It was you.

You stood before him as an ethereal mortal cloaked with a cherry headdress and long pure silk that barely covered your form. The skin of your neck was bare yet laced with beads and golden tattoos. Had your eyes not glowed with vertical slits, he would've dubbed you as the most beautiful and handsome mortal he had ever seen.

But it was not your form that he was enamored with.

No, it was your presence.

Call it draconic instinct, call it fate. Not one label nor descriptor fits what Morax had felt when he first met you, and he was eager to spend centuries to figure it out.

"I must admit, I did not expect a personal visit," You chuckled softly "I fully expected for you to send your armed subordinates instead. Do I appear passable at best? I have heard from Mountain Shaper that you prefer conversations in this form."

"Y...Yes."

Morax caught himself. Did he, the Prime of the Adepti, stutter over something as minuscule as appearance?

He cleared his throat. Morax recalled from Guizhong's teachings that grueling conversations often start with tea and small talk. Well, if he must...

"You do not offend. You have a talent for upholstery. I bought jasmine tea. What is your motive for staying in here?"

"…"

"… Pfft-- Hahaha!"

You laughed while holding your sides. Even though you looked away, he could tell that your eyes were beginning to water. For a moment, Morax's knees felt wobbly as he watched your eyes brighten and crease over his comments.

Enchanting.

"You are as blunt and, err, interesting as they say!" You snapped your fingers in amusement. Your cheeks were rosy and your grin was wide. "Believe it or not my liege, I come here only to rest."

"It is your job to make me believe those words." Morax deadpanned.

"A fair point," you said. "However, I am not sure how to persuade you. Shall I recount the events that led me to your abode?"

"I will judge if the story alone will suffice," Morax spoke, "but proceed."

"Well then, let's pour ourselves some tea!"

-------

"There are seven moons where I'm from" You pointed to the fake sky above. "In my prime, I possessed quite a large stature. The mortals in my continent feared that I would swallow the moons out of ignorance, and would make strange noises with their damn pots and pans to rile me up– I know that look on your face. I've seen the same thing on Mountain Shaper's– Trust me, this will be relevant and it gets better."

You winked at the end of your ramblings.

Morax laughed curtly and crossed his arms. If you were sharper you would've noticed the faint pink blush on his cheeks. "I'll take your word for it. That does sound quite troublesome."

You clicked your tongue "It is. There is nothing more useless and vile quite like a human mortal."

Morax flinched.

"Are you not being too harsh with your judgement?" He took a sip of his drink. Morax hoped your opinion was not a threat. He had met adepti and yakshas alike who gaze at mortals with disdain, yet they were all charmed by their appeal in the end. "You may find that they aren't as bad as you say."

He almost wanted to fumble a rash apology after seeing your shoulders drop. You appeared akin to an orphaned child of a burned village, yet his point stands firm like a lone salvaged chapel.

You muttered, "They killed my sister."

Morax's eyes widened. He nearly spat his tea.

You gazed up and looked directly into his amber eyes.

"That was not the only thing they took from me," You grumbled. "They burned my mate's house and left her entire family to succumb to famine while I was away."

"I pride myself on being a patient being, despite my undesirable circumstances, yet I had let my anger fester deep enough. I had decided to swallow a moon they loved so dearly in return."

You were certainly more loquacious when berating mortals, something Morax silently made note of. Despite your distaste for humanity, you still wore their skin to accommodate his preferences. The notion made the dragon's heart skip a beat a little.

"And did you succeed?" Morax gazed down at his cup while you chuckled sardonically.

"What do you think?"

You opened your palm. Morax had to squint to see the little speckles resting on your hands. His eyes widened. There is no mistake. It is a culmination of both extracted stardust and starglitters. His breathing paced slowly. To think there would be a being who would dare defy the heavenly principles, even if such Teyvat's laws do not apply to them.

But that wasn't truly what caught his eye.

It was the gold ring on your finger.

"I succeeded, but failed to steel myself." You said. "In the end, these humans frightened me with their strange noises and led me back to sea. As pathetic as that sounds."

"The world I hailed from retained but a single moon," you spoke. "And I'd take a leap in the dark that this world used to have two more that accompanied that lone moon in the sky. I wonder if there's a crack behind that wall..."

Morax went silent. Those slew of words weighed a thousand threats, yet spoke of none.

"You had done all of that for a mere woman?"

"Are you not fuc– Did you not listen?" It's a good thing you caught yourself. "Humanity took my sister. They killed her because they mistakenly believed her weight was sinking the island. Humans are rash. Cruel. And they do not deserve my pity. There were multiple atrocities they have committed, and... And I suppose that was when they crossed the line."

Morax felt perturbed. Your reasonings were far from enlightened, at least in his viewpoint at the time. "Taking their moons is not a fair act of justice."

'No shit.' You took a long deep breath.

You heard this all before. The same lecture was spoken before you were shunned from your realm, and they all came from holier-than-thou dragons patting each other on the back over their skewed sense of morality when other creatures do not operate similarly. They are godlings with endless crimes yet these same faces would dare act empathetic over the lives you've taken after you've been driven out.

If they were not driven by political motives, they were emotionally detached. They cannot and WILL NOT comprehend how one can be enchanted to meet a woman like your lover. It appears that Morax fits the latter description.

He doesn't know. He didn't know.

The silence was beginning to become a nuisance for the both of you. You coughed behind your hand. "I… admit. After her death, I am no longer a patient benevolent being. Sorry, let us both put that aside for now. What matters right now is the issue that I am stranded in a foreign land."

"And what is it that you hope to achieve?" He muttered, causing you to tilt your head.

"Allow me to phrase that properly, Bakunawa. I am, for a lack of a better term, 'a blockhead'. I have but a smattering of knowledge when it comes to these dealings and quite frankly I am reliant on Guizhong." Morax said, slightly massaging his temple after imagining Barbatos's grating voice. "What is it that you are trying to tell me?"

"My new friend, Rex Lapis," You inched closer beside him.

"May I tempt you and Lord Guizhong with a service contract?" You said. Maintaining his breath turned difficult as your fingers intertwined with his.

"I assure you, I may have a questionable background but someone with my repertoire is hard to come by."

-----------

You raised an eyebrow at Zhongli.

"I did not seduce you in any shape or form." You grumbled, giving him a dirty look "Seriously, Morax, what lies are you feeding your people?"

"OUR people have quite an imagination, my dearest spouse," Zhongli chuckled as his thumbs gently caressed your thigh. You cringed.

You divert your attention back to the storyteller, ignoring the way his filthy hands seem to crawl upwards.

You can tolerate this. You can tolerate this. You had to quietly chant that, lest you might just accidentally pray to the "deceased" Rex Lapis for your safety.

"The water Dragon went on to serve Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis and the late Lord Guizhong as their most loyal retainer for over hundreds of years. But alas! As you all may know, the latter turned to dust, and what comes after had crumbled Rex Lapis' foundation of trust...."

------------

The Dust had settled.

You were afar when it happened, fending off the great waves as you slash through the perilous winds. The dim skies accentuate the glow of your spear. You could no longer tell if the salt you taste is off your sweat or the ocean and the same goes for your blood and theirs. Guizhong purposely stationed you to fight silent enemies because she knew of your phobia. You appreciate her consideration.

Some nights, you wished you were able to save her with just your appreciation.

Only when you emerged victorious against Osial's lackeys did you hear a shrill cry from Cloud Retainer. You snapped your head and reached your hand out in fear that the engineer needed assistance, slightly annoyed at her interference. When you leaped your way up, she was in pristine condition. Her feathers were barely covered in dirt just like her claws.

You sighed in relief.

You never liked loud and sharp noises.

It had always been your greatest bane.

"What the hell are you yelling for?! There is no time to coddle your eccentricities, Retainer!"

Her wing pointed to her north, trembling. You expected her to open her mouth with her predictable "One must" opening, but she didn't. You followed her gaze and occupied her telescope.

The shores of Yaoguang Shoal were far and truthfully the sight was left to your imagination. There were however, two silhouettes you were familiar with and the view was not pretty. Above the sands, you make out the form of your Lords and friends, Morax and Guizhong.

Your head lowered as you cursed under your breath. You just know that he is beside himself holding back silvery tears.

To have a loved one be stripped away...

He knows. Now he knows.

------------

"My Lord," You moved to pass the curtains. The beaded threads slide over and reveal the form of Morax's drained form. He still insisted on remaining human as he buried his nose in writing paperwork after paperwork. Out of respect, you entered his abode as one as well. It is no secret that you worry over his health. As his most trusted retainer, you had voluntarily stationed yourself outside his room for most of your free time. "I bought you some food and water from Mount Aocang."

There was no response.

You sighed. You should've guessed as much. You were in a similar state, might've been worse, a day after you knelt beside your wife's ashes. It was just unpredictable how the man you saw screamed and summon meteors from the sky grieving so uncannily silent.

"Why are you offering me fish?"

"Oh, I..." You scratched behind your ear. "I supposed it was an unconscious decision. I often gave my wife seafood when she was under the weather... My wife is an avid fan of seafood– was, an avid fan..."

You looked back at the memory of your old life so fondly, back when you waited for nothing more than eating with her by the banana leaves. Morax's face sharpened in a mocking pointed look. Your heart ached for a moment, fearing that the sentiment is not appropriate for those in grief to hear.

"Shut it."

Your sympathy slightly cracked. Perhaps it was not appropriate for you to mention your deceased loved one when he is in this state but to be so uncouth about it? A bit unacceptable. You pulled the plate closer to your chest defensively.

"But you must eat–"

"I find seafood distasteful." He bit back. "The mere sight irritates me. Dispose of it. Now."

"Mo–"

"BAKUNAWA!!!"

You trembled.

His eyes looked directly into your soul and you felt it dissecting your being. Judging. Hateful. Words cannot fully describe how unpleasant it becomes being near Morax's presence when he was menacing.

But Morax faltered when he saw you flinch.

He had almost forgotten your fear of loud noises.

"Do not mention your DEAD wife ever again." He spat and glowered. Morax picked up a pen again and hastily pulled out a parchment from his study table. You assumed it was yours as he began to inspect it closely.

"I should revise your contract."

"You didn't hate seafood last time we dined with Pervases." You mumbled mostly to yourself, not wanting to uncover your grief over the young yaksha's passing either. It certainly will be the last time you ate with him. You didn't want to use Pervases as a dirty trick to distract Morax from condemning your wife's memory, but you knew that with him, you must grasp at any straws for an immovable force to budge.

"I do not like it now. Bakunawa. Throw it away. A mere mortal's preference will never influence my own."

You scoffed.

A mere mortal? Had he become this petty? Using your deceased wife's favorite things as a weapon against you? Just so you would leave?

You want to be just as petty. You want to hurl insult after insult, but you have matured. He reminded you of yourself in the ocean many moons ago. You should know how grief comes in waves, clinging onto shore once in a while. This is a dragon stripped away from his closest confidant, much like how the love of your wife was taken from you.

If this is how he grieves, then you respect it.

He is a sleeping dragon, but it is not time for him to wake up.

"I see. I shall leave you alone for tonight." You smiled faintly.

"Get some rest, Morax."

After you left, Morax reached out his hand but you were already gone. He placed his pen down and rubbed his forehead. That was not how he wanted that conversation to go. He did not mean to be passive-aggressive, but he can't help but be irritated when you speak of the dead mortal.

You mention her name every moment you two were alone together, and he's starting to suspect that you do so on purpose. Her name is a constant reminder that while you penned your name in his contract, you will never belong to him. The gold on your ring finger solidified it.

Morax sighed.

He wished you stayed with him until he felt better, and not the opposite.

------------

You turned back to your original form. Your human heart was uneased and erratic the entire time you were alone with Morax. It's strange because you always felt secure around him, but being around a grieving person is likely a complicated ordeal. The uncomfortable sensations seem to stem from your human vessel, and the tingles have yet to subside despite reverting to your old scales.

You sat at a rock in Guili Plains. The field remains tilled with blood and residues of fallen divine beings. Ashes are scattered along with blood-stained mud. Traces of the battle left not one house standing. Morax was forced to move the survivors to the harbor. Had Guizhong survived, she would've calculated the damages and costs to repair the civilization. She would've been alongside you and Morax, pinching the bridge of her nose as she writes off what needs to be done. You could see it clear as day. Guizhong would've patted Morax's head and reassured him with hopes for the future. It left a bitter taste in your mouth just imagining it.

Because she reminds you of your wife. And now she had passed on as well.

You wondered if the two finally met up there. Lord Guizhong had expressed interest in meeting your wife someday. You wondered if they were fast friends.

But you also wondered if she's happy in the afterlife.

Being a sea serpent dragon, your eyesight is not as great as a crane's which leads you to have doubts.

Is it possible that Morax himself was the one who put Guizhong out of her misery?

"You may have won, but you shouldn't let your guard down, Bakunawa."

In one swift motion, your claws pressed against Beisht's neck. Her back was pressed firmly against the cracked concretes. A dangerous laugh echoed throughout the barren land. She, with her overflowing confidence, grabbed your hand and dug the blade deeper down her neck.

"Do you really think I'd come after you with my true form?"

Ragged as she may be, Biesht had been such an eye-candy. Her eyes were inviting and her lips were just as tempting. She's personally not your type, but you can see the appeal. Her sharp eyelashes and long painted nails are to die for. It's no wonder Osial tied her down as his mistress.

But this isn't Beisht herself.

"A water mimic." You grumbled distastefully. Your claws retract and morphed back into human nails. With apparent distaste, you won't let her rile you up in your divine form.

"Ten points to Bakunawa." She said sardonically.

"What are you doing here, Beisht? Your strength wanes-- you can barely maintain your mimic's shape. What could you possibly achieve by such a reckless ambush? Do you realize how idiotic your plan was? Do you have a death wish?"

"Tut-tut! Won't even allow me to speak? Such hostility!" Beisht snickered. "What's with your self-righteous attitude? There are no tales of chivalry and glory born from a wasteland. Don't suffocate yourself with such fake ideals, my fellow monster."

This serpent is the exact opposite of your wife.

"I…" You sighed. You were both equally jaded, the only difference between you two is that one is willing to hide it. "Why aren't you with your husband."

It was not a question yet she humored you anyways. "Trapped down there, but don't worry I'll join him eventually."

As she should.

"I wasn't fucking worried."

"To answer your previous question: I figured I should greet my new neighbor." She laughed. "After all, we're bound to be cellmates."

You clicked your tongue. Her smirk widened. Despite being at the bottom of this struggle, she seemed to be under the impression she had it under control. Your grip on the mimic's wrists tightened.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're a serpent dragon like me, not a pathetic mortal. I'm sure you know what I meant, don't you darling? It's very similar to how Osial won't let me meet other beings."

You refused to meet her gaze.

You know. Everyone knows the look Morax gives you when he thought no one was staring. You know how both his human and draconic hands hover above your own when they shouldn't. They practically mirrored yours one fateful summer on the seaside. They were a striking similarity of who you once were to your wife.

A dragon's love can be suffocating. You admit that you are not free from criticism when you were just as hopeless. You once tried to court your wife by leaving human and animal hearts on her doorstep among other gruesome courtship methods. It was only through her mercy did you learn how love must be kept in moderation. She forgave you of your sins. It was only through her guidance did you learn that love does not translate to possession, nor should it be stifled by rigid rules.

He does not think the same.

Morax is desperately in love with you, but your heart belongs to another. That is a violation of your shared contract that neither of you had to acknowledge, and with how the winds changed and blew the cold away, so too will his disposition.

At that moment, you started to think that gentle reminders of your marriage won't be enough to keep the dragon at bay.

"He wants to lock me up to quench his obsession." You breathed shallowly. "He just hasn't discovered a sociably acceptable reason to do so."

"Smart dragon." She cooed and smoothed out your ruffled human hair. You quietly groaned. "I'm sure we'd be good friends under the sea. You'd be my favorite neighbor."

"I will be your only neighbor."

"Oh? Do you want points for that as well?"

You gritted your teeth. "I don't need your approval."

"Hmm, but you need others, don't you? Poor poor Bakunawa," she mocked.

"Finally got a taste of what it feels like to be accepted by society, only to sink back to the abyss. What a tragic tale."

Beisht looked behind you. "I'll be heading off now, his servant approaches. Do visit my chambers sometimes, won't you, love? I just know we'd make great accomplices."

She kissed your cheek.

"Beis–"

Her water mimic fizzled out.

"Bakunawa, Rex Lapis calls for you."

You snapped out of it.

The last Yaksha met your gaze. His arms were folded and he himself was just as indifferent. This command spells trouble for you, but you cannot bring yourself to complain. Xiao's eyes were tired and you do not wish to add more to his troubles. If he did saw Beisht and did nothing, it was likely due to the karmic binds.

You nodded.

"I'll be there at once, thank you, Xiao."

-------------

In hindsight, you should've been warier at the fact that Morax summoned you close to the shore where Osial was imprisoned in. Yet you still needed to clean up the remains of this war. It is your sworn duty to help Morax's people. Even if it meant going door to door to exterminate foul sea miscreations.

A bit ironic, considering Morax's whole spiel about eating seafood earlier.

"You have called for me, my lord?"

"Bakunawa…" He said. You do not like how he looked at you. "There are things I would like to confess."

You do not like where this is going.

"Go... Go on..."

"Bakunawa, I..."

He blushed as he took your hands. Morax's eyes were directly staring into your soul. You wanted to immediately pull away, but the thought of offending him with that more than your rejection started to creep in. You both stared at each other with uncertainty. From an outside perspective, it would look adorable. From your perspective, this was an absolute nightmare.

"I love you."

"Morax I–" You immediately stammered as he leaned forward.

His lips felt soft when pressed against your palm.

Morax pulled back.

He squinted.

"So... You still chose her."

You looked at your hand. Your wedding ring glowed.

With newfound resolve, you nodded.

"Always."

"I see..." Morax scowled.

"You must hope that you will not regret your choice."

The ground shook below you.

You didn't realize what was happening until you screamed your lungs out from the fall.

"What the– What's this..."

Morax looked down at you, distraught.

"BAKUNAWA, YOU ARE CONDEMNED TO A LIFE OF ETERNAL IMPRISONMENT FOR VIOLATING CLAUSE I OF SECTION A." A mechanical voice echoed around you.

"... What?"

"YOU WILL NOW UNDERGO PUNISHMENT BEFITTING OF TRAITORS. GLORY TO THE PRIME OF THE ADEPTI."

CLINK! CLANK!

You winced. Not due to physical pain, but due to the noises around you. You tried to turn back into a dragon but to no avail. Any effort you had in making the noises stop was futile until you regressed to a shaken mess.

Your eyes started to water as you gazed up at Morax through the glass. He stared back with discontent.

"M-Morax..."

You were wrong-- You were lied to.

Your assumptions and good intentions led you right into the dragon's trap.

You weren't looking at Morax when he was grieving. You were looking at yourself through Morax.

The cold-blooded dragon did not inch closer to you when it rested. It did not take solace in the warmth and kindness you offered. The reason it drew near, the reason it wrapped itself around you, was so it could snare you-- trap you to become his.

It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep. And Morax had one eye open this entire time.

With how you ignored his affections for you, perhaps you were pretending as well.

Humans, dragons--- they're no different. All are filled with greed and unadulterated obsession. You never would've thought that a day would come that being shunned by humanity would be more enticing than receiving affection from a fellow dragon. There is no doubt that refusal will end with a terrible fate.

Because divine beings don't truly kill their enemies, they break them.

And you can't turn back to your original form.

You felt like vomiting.

The noise. It's getting louder

They kept clinking.

Clanging.

Clanking.

You could no longer hear your own thoughts.

"Make it stop."

You gritted your teeth as tears start to blur your vision.

You kneeled.

Your nails are dug through the shell of your ears.

You feel blood on your cuticles.

"MORAX MAKE IT STOP DAMNIT!!!"

You were sobbing. You were trembling.

He only looked down on you.

You can't tell what the scowl on his face meant from all the noise.

He left and robbed you of your only view of the outside world.

"MORAX!!! MORAX COME BACK!!!!"

He left you there for two hundred years. Trapped in the shell of the mortals you hated and the sounds they created.

------------

"And so, the terrifying Bakunawa was sealed away for trying to seal our moon! Legends spoke that they had fallen asleep and never reawakened when Osial recently reemerged, but a recent theory emerges from the sea…"

His hooked listeners leaned forward with anticipation, including Zhongli.

"Theorists believe…

That Bakunawa had escaped, and roams Teyvat to this day!"

You laughed.

Your laughter was as misplaced as a joke told at a funeral, but you cannot help it. It was so surreal. The proclamation had you shaking in your seat, holding back tears. You could just die laughing from these hysterics. Your face felt numb. The audience looked at Zhongli's once elegant and composed lover reduced to nothing more than a mere maniacal madman.

It was loud. It was jarring. It was eerie.

Zhongli held your hand to "fix you" and you stilled, but not without a final cackle.

Escaped? What an optimistic assumption! Morax took pity after watching you shrivel up in fear for two centuries. There was no means of escape from a domain created by Lord Guizhong. They all label you a traitor and now they think of you as a miracle worker. Can't they pick a side?

"(Y/n)." Behave yourself. That was a command.

You gave him a taunting look. Your face urged him to 'Go on. Call me by my real��name' and he grunted.

"Pfft… Ah, my apologies, my husband," You waved your hand dismissively. Your hands were still jittery, and a few laughs managed to escape your lips. "Clause III, isn't it? I forget that I had come dangerously close to losing it. Do forgive me, everyone."

His grip tightened. Ah, right. You shouldn't mention your "freedom" contract in public.

"Clause III?" The boy behind you shared hushed whispers with his mother.

"… Do you not believe such stories, Mx. (Y/n)?" The storyteller spoke in low tones. "What do you find so joyful about such an alarming tale?"

Ahh, what a lark. You grinned briefly. Such manner of speech does not faze you.

"Oh no, quite the contrary sir I find it to be quite believable!" No man would ever believe such a reply. "Do tell-- What happens next?"

"W-Well," Iron Tongue Tian fixed his collar. One could argue that it was due to the summer heat, but you know better than that. "The tale ends here for today, if there is any more progress, I shall indulge everyone with the next chapter!"

"Oh no! We can't have that now can't we?" You looked around with a faux troubled expression. They stared back at you with varying degrees of discomfort.

Zhongli glared. "(Y/n)."

You sauntered to the stage and patted the storyteller's shoulder.

"Don't worry folks. I, (Y/n), shall continue this tale."

"(Y/N)!"

Zhongli called out to you, louder than before.

The earth trembled and clouds began to gather. Liyue Harbor slowly turned dim as the shades filtered sepia tones. The boy in the crowd held back tears, causing his mother to give you a dirty look. It wasn't just her, everyone looked at you the same way the mortals back home gazed at you.

With fear and hatred.

It was not (Y/n) they were meant to hate, but the true villain who sat with them. Your chest and eyelids felt heavy. But you were easier to hate as you tried to enlighten them with the truth.

Once again, Morax reduced you into nothing more than a blubbering, foolish villain.

The saying remains true. It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep.

Finally, you turned to Zhongli with thin lips. He's already in front of you with a hand reached out. Perhaps the only reason why no one dared criticize you in public was because you were this respectable man's spouse. You bit your lip. Deep down, you had never been this upset in over five hundred years. You want to go home.

They were quiet.

There were no pots nor pans nor screaming to be heard, but the silence was just as loud.

"Let's come home, darling." He whispered threateningly.

Home is where your wife was.

"How…" You took his hand and whispered to his ear. Your voice cracked and your grip tightened.

"How can I go home?"

Zhongli did not answer. Instead, he dragged you away from the crowd. Neither of you spoke until you reached your shared house.

"Get some rest."

For once, you complied without question, something Zhongli greatly appreciated. You had enough for today.

You simply nodded and entered your bedroom.

Without warning, Zhongli's arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You stared at it. Those hands. They never once failed to reach out to you, but you lacked the will to grasp them. You shut your eyes close. Maybe it's time that you hold them as Morax insisted.

Your hands lingered above his.

Perhaps it's time you pretend to fall asleep as well.

#yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere genshin impact #morax x reader #yandere morax x reader #tag: liyue's monsoon #i had a male reader in mind when i wrote this tbh #yandere zhongli x reader #i lowkey simp for this characterization of beisht lol #ansy-writes

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