BRO I WAS DROWNING IN FLUFF MOW U SHOW ME THIS??? I Cant With This Anymore

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | FINALE | wc. 5.1K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. there's always a factor chaining you from falling in love, usually you can never be bothered, but with Zhongli in your life you may have to pin down the source of your hesitation and possibly unlock new secrets from the consultant

cw. spoilers for the recent 3.4 update and intended inaccuracy of the lore

note. tumblr is so high it auto posted this on January💀💀

main m.list genshin.mlist

PART I < PART II < PART III (finale)

Strange, Zhongli really is the epitome of an oddity. You don't know if he was previously a magician or he simply knows how to make Mora appear out of thin air. Either way, you get freebie whenever he accompanies you in your untimely stroll

Though every freebie means a reward for saving his ass from getting scammed. The amount of times he hands off Mora to a person, who clearly has insidious motives, without second thought pales in comparison to the age of the late Archon.

You thought being friends with Hu Tao has taught him something, but clearly he's an airhead at heart when it comes to money.

Then came a particular day when you and Zhongli stroll in the streets of Liyue, you both passby a travelling storyteller who's halfway of retelling the tale of the lone warrior who sacrificed their life to save a Goddess.

". . .they were heavily guarded and fought neither for the Seven Seats nor to survive. Lady Guizhong also wrote in her tale that they were buried somewhere in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Lone Warrior's good deeds."

Eons of living can grant you insurmountable patience and restraint from spitting unfiltered comments that a person may take umbrage, you thoroughly believed you've mastered those skills long ago, if you slip a crack then you'd almost be an oxymoron.

"Bullcrap."

. . .You are a moron, after all.

You gained an immediate reaction from the consultant beside you who perched an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

You cough between your fist, "I don't intend to vilify Liyue's folklore, but that was straight up flawed."

Coming out as a bumptious person is the last thing you want now that you've gotten a new ally, but they were talking about you, more precisely about your past life as a swordsman.

Who knows someone better than themselves? And for Achon's sake why do they have to dub you as the Lone Warrior? Ugh, now you can sympathize what Diluc feels being called Darknight Hero. Yes, you know about his alter ego, can't fool a master disguiser.

"Why do you believe otherwise?"

"Huh?" When you gaze up at him, you saw the same intensity in his eyes when you first met him as he reiterated the question.

"O-Oh. . . sorry, I just didn't expect you to be open-minded when I literally called a famous Liyue story bullcrap."

The corners of his lips tugged up in a curious smile, "Let's assume we share the same thoughts, and I want to hear yours."

You didn't understand what he meant but his compelling voice made you speak your innermost knowledge of history without a shred of a doubt, "Most content of the tale is accurate since it was written by the Goddess herself, from the description of their appearance, their background, and deeds before the spark of the Archon war, it's all veridical. However, the part where the Warrior is buried somewhere in the Guili Plains is what makes it erroneous."

"How so?" Zhongli queried almost immediately when you paused for a second to construct the proper words without offending the anyone who opposed your opinions.

"First and foremost, the Lone Warrior was never buried in the first place, for their body was nowhere to be found amongst the corpse of the warpath. Instead of saying they were buried, Lady Guizhong built a stone slab in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Warrior however, due to the circumstances of the Karmic Dept, the slab is most likely destroyed from the uncontrolled rampage of a Yaksha."

As far as you can reckon, the Yaksha who destroyed the slab must have died feeling guilty for eradicating the one memoir of the Lone Warrior. At that time, it was all a speculation from you who knows what the Yaksha must be feeling, but now all of it don't matter.

Saving Guizhong is a choice you've never regretted, Morax felt happy and contented in her presence, it's enough to suffice everything. A simple stone slab won't change your standpoint, even without one you'd gladly do it for the second time.

"What about you, Zhongli? You said we. . ."

Your voice slowly fades away with the wind to carry out amongst the trees and may Barbatos hears this conversation to let him know he had found his Y/N.

He had always imagine what sort of interaction happens between two bards, given the fact you've once told him you play the lyre when you were a child, he's eager to see you in action.

"Hmm, as I thought, we do share commonity in the matter."

That piqued your interest, "Pray tell."

You've never met anyone who's well versed in history like you do.

"I also believe the Lone Warrior never had their deserved burial, but Guizhong made it possible to tell the tale of the mortal who made saved her life. While I personally think they're righteous, it still baffles me why would they sacrifice themselves for someone they're not well acquainted with."

You awkwardly laugh at his astute observation, feeling the perspiration forming on your forehead. Historians often ask the same inquiry; why did they save Guizhong? The tale itself didn't hold any answer for that, and a handful of Liyue citizens doubt the honor of the Lone Warrior because of this— Zhongli is one of them.

"Regardless of their intention, the Lone Warrior has my respect, for their sacrifice has led for another woman's salvation, it is nothing to be easily disregarded." Zhongli added, taking a few steps ahead.

"I've noticed how you accolade the people of the past, especially their noble hearts and their contribution to Liyue. It almost sounds like it's what you do to your. . . umm, deceased loved ones."

His eyes bleaked, for a moment you thought you crossed a line, but he spoke in a solemn voice, "I have actually, I've lost so many good people over the years, but I've learned to move on and look back in the past with a smile."

Yeah, you definitely crossed a line just there.

Your eyes find purchase on your shoes, "You're a strong man, Zhongli. I can only imagine how you managed to do that. Is that one of the factors you decided to become a consultant?"

He seemed to hesitate to answer, as if contemplating his thoughts first, ". . .I wouldn't say it's a defining factor, but yes."

"Do you ever look back to your loved ones without. . . hurting as much as it did on the first time?"

"It's a good thing to remember someone who meant a lot to you, but if the memory of that person is making you suffer, you need to let them go. You might feel guilty at first, but after a while you'll be able to think of them again without hurting nor feeling guilty."

Just then, a fierce wind struck and swept through their bodies. The dry leaves that hung from the branches rustled loudly as moonlight illuminated. Zhongli, who silently looked towards the clamoring branches, murmured in a low voice only for your ears.

"Do not rush yourself to move on, everyone has different pace. It might take you years or decades, even centuries and I'll still be with you, so do not worry about going through this alone."

Did you hear that? It's the sound of your heart thundering.

Before you know it, you were giggling to yourself.

Your laughter bubbles up from between your lips like a clear spring, unrestrained peals of genuine amusement. The sound is so mellifluous, he almost can’t find it in him to comprehend that it came at his expense. It makes him feel special.

"It makes me think how old you really are, you sound like you've been living for thousands of years." You jested. "You're not wrong." He promptly followed. What...? That must've been a joke, eh?

"You sure do know how to do your job. I felt better after hearing that. Thank you, Zhongli."

One moment you were facing him, the next you're suddenly squashed against his chest as he cages you in his arms protectively. Not a good position to be in when your heart began to pump rapidly as his scent rubbed on you.

You were about to ask him what was the matter when you heard an audible and heavy thump behind you followed by a burst of the Geo element. Zhongli looked down on you.

"I apologize for my action, but your life was on the line, so I acted out of instinct." Yet he doesn't make any indication to let you go any time sooner, his hold on you only tightens.

You hid your flushed cheeks by coughing, "I'm not made out of glass, I can handle myself perfectly fine." Yet you didn't move from where you are and held onto his clothes.

"Correct, a few slimes are no big deal, but I can't take any compromises when it's comes to you, Y/N."

"I-If you have time to flirt then just get on with the slimes." You demanded with a huff. You should've seen how he had looked like a lost puppy, "But I wasn't flirting with you, I'm merely expressing my thoughts regarding about you."

"That's even worse!" You exclaim, having no courage to look at him.

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous.

He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face while the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side.

And it's not a secret he's enamored with you. Even Xiao can deduce the subtle smile everytime your name is mentioned. He hasn't seen an ardor look on him for hundreds of years, it felt anomalous to see him blush like a teenager.

The Traveler and the floating emergency food didn't seem to mind the two, but Paimon has been really curious about it.

If Zhongli likes you then can't he just straight up confess that in your face? Life would've been so simple if people are straightforward🙄

Rough representation;

There's no concrete answer for it yet, liking Zhongli more than what you two are amidst the process of your healing would seem like he's taken you out of pity.

You don't want that type of relationship. You opt to sort yourself before consulting your mixed feelings you have with the consultant.

And by that literally means;

"You want to accompany the traveler in Jueyun Karst?" You responded with a resigned sigh.

Each day spent with him only shows a fraction of how ridiculous you probably sound to a youthful man.

Everyone in Liyue knows no mortal can get in Jueyun Karst, even if they did there would be no merit to achieve unless you're seeking for a beautiful view of the clouds.

"Yes, the adepti Ganyu had gone missing for days, the traveler asked me if I know the shortest way to Jueyun Karst, and I proposed to be their guide."

Lies.

The traveler is capable of navigating their way to Jueyun Karst.

In fact, they already left this morning and it's noon as you speak.

You only used that excuse to skedaddle your way out of the dilemma you got yourself into. You need the cortisol to die down. And that won't happen if the said dilemma is with you (e.t. Zhongli)

"Hmm. . . so, you've been in Liyue before yet you still accepted my offer to give you a tour." His statement gives off an accusatory tone, but his lopsided grin tells you otherwise.

You shot him a sheepish smile. "How can I let the opportunity of conversing with a handsome man go to waste? There's a reason why I'm an adventurer, Zhongli."

He shakes his head, "How long you'll be away?"

"Not that long, I'd say only a few hours. Why? Are you going to miss me?"

You only meant it as a joke, you didn't think he'd take it seriously.

"Yes."

You see, this is the reason why you want to avoid him.

Hah! In the end, you found yourself winded up somewhere in Yujing Terrace. You heard Glaze Lillies bloom in this area, it reminded you of My. Tianheng where a field of Glaze Lillies can be found everywhere.

"Another flower is blooming, such a beautiful sight, if only life can be as beautiful as these Glaze Lillies." You nearly yelp at the sudden voice speaking near your ear and reeled back.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry if I had scared you." An aged lady with her gray hair tucked in a low bun spoke. "I'm fine. . ."

"Call me Madame Ping. You look quite familiar to me, child. Are you perhaps the adventurer the Wangsheng consultant was talking about?" You crane your neck at her question.

"U-Uh. . . if you're talking about Y/N L/N then yes, that would be me. May I ask what made you so certain it's me?"

"Ah! He hasn't stopped talking about you since he visited this place. That man is so stoic looking, but when he hears your name it looks like he's a different man all of a sudden."

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose in any attempt to bring your nerves down. You had heard those words on multiple occasions— that Zhongli was different around you, that he cared for you like he cared for no one else. There had been a few times where that statement rang true. Some that don't.

Zhongli felt like a breath of fresh air, a sunshine on a cloudy day, a tall mountain summit from afar. You loved the way he listens to your beliefs, you loved the way he trusts you with his secrets and experiences, you loved the way he deeply cares to others, you love the way he seemed to brighten up every room he walked into.

Goddamn you love everything about that man!

Even his stupidity to pecuniary is lovable.

Somehow he managed to bring joy to the same place you always associated with agony— every corner of the place was happier with him around.

It's no wonder you feel something that can only be named as infatuation— a feeling you once harbored towards Morax, but failed to realize it until your death.

But that had been so long ago, back when you were a little kid determined to become an adult. Now you're an adventurer with a thousand adventures under your belt. Now you were strong and experienced and prepared. And yet, you're still hesitating. Why?

"What seems to cause your inner turmoil, child?"

Your breath hitched and your intake became shallow, it feels like being reborn again. An advantageous thing about reincarnation is that you get to experience love in many forms, mainly familial love.

It was your gateway from the gripping anxiety you feel whenever you overhear hearsay in your town about Morax.

But not once did a family ever asked you for your problems, it's not their fault being unaware of your curse and if they did ask you would've probably non the wiser— it was because they don't share the same sentiment having to live for thousand years.

With Madame Ping, you feel so inclined to relay your thoughts as if you're indeed a child ranting problems with your mom, something about her just puts your mind at ease. And you only just met her not too long ago.

You took a deep breath and tore your gaze from the Glaze Lillies, "There's this man that I fostered feelings for, since I started liking him. . . I always felt like I'm standing over burning charcoal. Do you know what that feels like? Not being able to stop my feet from moving even for a moment. I can't run. I want to, but there's something holding me back."

"Hmm, that sounds too complex," she sighs, "then again, being young has many complexities just as we adults have. With the way you're describing it, I won't say it's holding you back, child."

You lifted your gaze at her, confusion now painted your features.

"If I were to put it, you're simply tangled up in your past."

"W-What—"

"And you need closure if you want to face your feelings head on."

A closure? Is that what I'm missing? Should I vent my pent up feelings? Ugh. . . Will that really help?

Sensing your dubious demeanor, Madame Ping smiled, "You do not need to heed my words. I'm simply offering a suggestion."

"No, I'll consider it. In fact, I think it's the best course to deal with this. Thank you, Madame Ping!"

And so you dash from the place in search of something.

You run pass the vast greenery of viridescent grasses and colorful wildflowers— a meadow, where you'd usually go for meandering while accompanied by the evening breeze or gilding sunlight. It was perfect setting of tranquility for a maladaptive daydreamer like yourself. You'd imagine yourself laying down and naming the constellations that coincidentally appear in the sky, or count the exotic birds that flew by, or hum a tune that's been lost in history.

Looking at you now versus your past self equates for hypocrisy.

An amalgamation of both morose and agitated countenance now marred your features. Any person who sees you would imagine how tumultuous your life has been, it's nowhere near nirvana.

Trembling as you arrived at your destination, you stand in front of Morax's statue and traces the meticulous handwork with the pads of your fingers. The entire place feels like him, as though you’re with him at arms reach, but too far to actually hold him.

"It's really pathetic how I try so hard to move on, only to come back to you when something is amiss in my life," you murmured, "but I'm not here to endlessly whine about every misfortune in life, I want to release this feeling in order for me to be appeased."

You heaved a deep breath.

"I love you, Morax. I still do. No amount of flowery apologies can fix the damage I made for stalling my confession to you. I was young and had a plethora of uncertainties that made me second-guess myself. I guess. . . the guilt of leaving you pushed me to the brink of watching over you throughout my consecutive reincarnations, I wanted to make sure you were happy. And now, I want to be happy too. I feel happy with Zhongli and I don't want to make the same mistake of hesitating then later regret on it."

Some days your sadness was a mild lisp. It barely scratched the surface of your voice, but today melancholy had waged a full scale assault on your vocal chords.

"I've decided I'll confess to him, not today, I still need to build the courage to face him. I'm thankful for the time we spent our earliest days together, truly I am, but it's time for me to move on. One day I will look back on our childhood and say 'I love you' once more without the lingering ache in my heart. I'll never stop coming back to you, Morax. . . so, instead of bidding farewell, I'll see you later."

It felt good to vent your feelings out that you nearly cried that day as you walk back in Wangshu Inn and now you're ready to confess your feelings to the consultant whenever you're ready. And whether he'll accept it or not is entirely up to him.

"Are you free this , Y/N?" A strange look obscured the consultant's face, what's even more strange is the fact he's not even looking you directly.

"Yes. . .?" Something tells you he's not in a good mood.

Crap. . . someone give him Mora! ASAP!

"I wish to speak with you alone. Will you come with me in Mt. Tianheng?" Asked the consultant who seemed a bit on edge this evening after you came back. His spurious stone cold expression obnubilated akin to the look of a man who's gearing up for war.

His ominous mien warranted your logic to say no to him, but you're too far on the line of sanity to even refuse the man you like. "Sure."

>> TIMESKIP. . .

You thought not confessing early to Morax before your death was the worst decision you've ever made. Think again, 'cuz this is most definitely the worst, baddest and stupidest decision ever.

You never made it a point to come back to this place— it brought back a storm of memories, some of which were more comfortable being shoved to the recesses of your mind and be kept there for eternity. But for whatever reason, you feel inclined to follow him and disregard the uneasiness of returning in Mt. Tianheng.

Zhongli has been strangely quiet all the way here, at this point he'd be randomly stating facts, not be a complete mute-walking pillar.

Thus, you suck up your inner turmoil and deal with it instead of fleeing right off the bat.

"You're strong for keeping your head up this far." He accolades suddenly to particularly no one, except if he was referring to you.

"Me?"

He comes to an abrupt stop and finally, FINALLY faces you. And shit do his visage screams he's not playing around. He's not here to be buddy-buddy with you. He looks genuinely distress.

About what though?

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . .

Oh. . .

Oh no!

Did he see through your lies earlier? That you're supposed to be with the traveler in Jueyun Karst? Double shit! Not good!

A thin sheen of sweat accumulated on your forehead as you try to come up with an excuse, "U-Uh. . ." but came up with nothing.

You mentally prepared yourself for a parade of admonishing words from Zhongli, you genuinely thought he's going to nitpick on why you shouldn't have lied to him and probably question the motives behind your action. At least that's what you thought.

"This guilt is unbearable even for an immortal."

"Yes, I know I lied about going with the traveler in—. . . Huh?"

What?

His eyes seemed to shine brighter than the stars as he stares deeply into yours. You sense an underlying promise in those determined orbs, it instilled the feeling of anticipation and anxiety.

"I am Morax."

The air suddenly became suffocating for YOU. Breathing gets hard. There’s this feeling in your chest that’s gnawing through your body, affecting your every movement.

Conflagrated flames and scalding ice, the physical feeling tied up in all the emotions that seem to leak from ZHONGLI'S features— fear, hope and adoration churned his guts.

An unkempt strand of your hair overshadowed your eyes from Zhongli's standpoint. It seems as though he made the decision that'll compromise the friendship he had built with you.

Being the bearer of the knowledge of your reincarnation didn't come easy for an immortal who's supposed to be imposing as a mortal.

Ever since he saw you paying respect for his passing, his instinct is blaring at him to tell you his true identity. Though he has to admit it's not entirely his gut-feel that added a major factor of what he had done now— it was his selfishness, yet again.

He had gone through multiple scenarios of what your reaction may be; Would you laugh at his face? Are you going to dismiss his claims and think it's a prank? Will you run away from him?

Not like it matters to him.

You can do all of those and he'd still want to be with you.

Heck! He knew you were telling a fib about your involvement in the Traveler's quest and it didn't change his feelings for you.

". . ."

As crickets filled his ears, he takes a feeble step forward and spoke in a solemm voice, "You must have a lot of questions, I can guarantee to answer all of them but know that it was never my intention to prolong your suffering by hiding my identity."

He knows.

He GODDAMN knows!

Your words broke up and all you could mutter were stuttering sounds. Hot tears streamed down your face, and squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time as stand there unmoving. What else is there to say?

Before you know it, both of your shoulders were grasped in a firm but gentle grip of gloved hands. There's so many mixed feelings stirring in a boiling pot, and you can't make out a definite conclusion until you arrive in some sort of resulting point.

Are you angry for his decision to play dead? Betrayed he kept this from you? Pained that he didn't trust you? Relieved that he's really alive in the flesh? Happy that he knows it's you and you don't have to pretend around him? Which is it?

Amidst all the chaotic thoughts, you still feel safe in the presence of Zhongli— Yes, Zhongli. You hate how it feels so warm, you hate how you want to bask in his embrace, you hate the solace you find yourself in when he's around even in your worst time. Just then, similarly back in Inazuma, the sky shed tears to empathize your mourning heart. The heavens really find your suffering amusing.

In your haze vision, he was moving his lips but the words fell on deaf ears, your sense of hearing refuse to comprehend the meaning behind his statement. It's probably for the best.

Zhongli, the ever so keen who promptly took notice, snaked his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in a somber embrace and gently placed your head in his chest— an act of shielding you from the dangers of the world and offers you a safe haven.

The veil dropped and walls crumbled.

Your feeble hands grasped his flaunting waistcoat like a helping hand. Your scream synchronises with the thundering and the minimum space between you muffled the cries. Your undecipherable emotions echoes with the storm like a reflection on the mirror.

And everything leads to the man desperately clinging to your bare fingers on the cliffside of a bottomless pit you dug yourself into.

"Look at me."

Compelled to do so, you lifted your blurry gaze. A Geo Archon known for his wisdom and strength, is standing in his barest version. The version of a man who weeps only in the presence of whom he loves and trusts.

[ source: Pinterest. please comment if you know the artist so I can credit ]

"Z-Zhongli. . ."

A single index finger met your quivering lips, "Shh. . . The rain isn't stemmed from sadness. So get drenched, and be refreshed. I hope it washes away the hot bitterness felt by your heart. When that hurt washes away, let's return home together."

". . . Together? It sounds surreal. . . I don't want to believe it."

"May I kiss you for proof?"

You're too absorbed in the heat of moment that every rational decision flew out the window, but maybe the most rational thing to do is to indulge yourself.

You nodded, with your permission Zhongli has never been the happiest till this day.

His lips descended on yours with fervor, immediately you can feel his desperation, his love, his determination, his grief— it's overwhelming it almost knocked you on your feet. Quite fortunate he has his hand on your back to keep you steady while the other is on your cheek as he drowns you in his presence.

You feel hot, it's unusual during the rain shower, but the hypnotic intimacy he applies in his action takes your breath away.

Heat pooled in your stomach, the prospect of kissing Zhongli is something you didn't know you'd be craving for more and your heart skipped a few beats.

Your whole body tingled, the feel of his towering frame leaning on you as he encased you in his arms felt like you're ascending to Celestia.

Albeit slowly, you felt yourself gradually being pulled up to the surface accompanied by the hands of your savior.

It still wasn't clear if he's dreaming this moment, but there was raw emotion in the way you weave your fingers through his free tresses and caress his scalp. Zhongli kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty glance at you every time he comes back for air to assure himself this isn't a product of his imagination.

He doubts the authenticity of it all. He's not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if Celestia tricked him into this perfect present to appease his guilt, but every passing second makes him want to stay in this illusion and for the first time in eons, he felt like a little dragon discovering new treasures— he discovered you yet again.

Slowly, the pull apart, chest heaving and face flustered.

Zhongli suddenly felt more guilt, he had acted out of the line and kissed without properly courting you, not so gentlemanly. The smile on your face, however, eased the guilt in his heart and subconsciously mirrored your smile, it was simply contagious.

"It's really you, huh? I can't believe I didn't realize it was you." You placed your palm on his cheek as to reassure your sanity, in response he leaned impossibly closer to your hand.

"Words cannot describe how much I want to expose myself to you, and how apologetic I am for staging my death. Had I've been aware of your existence and your knowledge of the past, I would have come up a different solution and not cause you more pain."

Yeah, it really is him. No other man can look after your feelings like he does, and there's no other man lovable as him.

"I really want to ask how did you know, not only of my reincarnation, but also my awareness of my previous life. Is it because you were a former Archon?"

Heaving a deep sigh, he pressed his forehead on yours, his fingers traverse down the corner of your lips until it wipes away from what it looks like the remnants of your tears.

"I don't need to be an Archon to know it's you. Your kindness, compassion and everything beautiful will always attract me no matter what form you may take. No other being can impersonate someone so precious as you, Y/N. It's why I knew it was you the moment you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Times like this always reminds you why you fell for him so hard.

"As for your memories of the past. . . you weren't exactly being cautious of your words when you were speaking to my statue. No normal mortal has ever called me Morax other than you."

Oh. . . you were rather grateful for it.

"So, you're saying I'm not normal to you?"

"Y/N, reincarnating while retaining your memories is not exactly a trait of a standard normal mortal." He does have a point.

"Hey, look. The rain has stopped."

Hands adorned of scars, bruises and wounds that once grasped the pointed end of every sharp edged rocks are now held by the calloused hands of another fighter.

You watch as the lustrous moon rose up the sky, pride was balm from its full fledged form, exuding sufficient fulguration for the inky night and the prodigious number of stars turned into extraordinary bright white hued after the rain. For the first time, the deepest somber night just came out of its humble abode.

He kept his eyes on you and his forehead glued on yours, it looks like he's not planning on letting you go any time sooner, "Indeed, it seems like your heart has eased up too."

"Yes, and I have you thank for that." You gently grabbed the wrist caressing your face and rubbed figures of eight. "Thank you for having the courage of revealing your true self, it have me the right to courage to fess up what's on my mind."

You pulled away from his embrace and took his hand on yours, you can feel his burning eyes fixated on your actions, "I never got the chance to confess everything when I was dying in your arms. I thought it was for the best, but I'll say it now."

Watching you straighten your spine, Zhongli couldn't hide his anticipation. He has vague idea what you mean, but he didn't want to keep his hopes up, so he remained calm and let you continue.

"I love you. Whether you're known as Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli or any other names, I'm hopelessly in love with you because to me you're the dragon who kept me safe from the dangers and prioritize me over your own happiness. You're my first friend, my first confidant, my first partner in crime, my first protector, my first crush and most importantly, you're my first love. You're my every first, and you'll be my very last."

Every joyful feeling known to man hit Zhongli like a meteor and he couldn't help himself to claim your lips once again. This time he was more gentler and more on conveying his overjoyed expression. The kiss was brief as he pulled away immediately.

"I have always adored you, Y/N. Your death nor your lack of reciprocation doesn't make my feelings any different. Do you remember the promise I made? I will take you at the highest peak of the sky, I meant it literally that time, I'm more willing to fulfill that promise both literally and figuratively.bI'm grateful to have met you in my life, and I'm more grateful that you feel the same as I do. I will do my best to keep you happy, Y/N."

"Dummy! I should be the one saying that." Your eyes began to feel moisture yet again. "Would you look at us. It took us a couple thousands of years before getting to this point, it's almost laughable and I— ACHOO!"

". . ."

". . ."

"Let's head back. It almost slip my mind humans are quite fragile even just a few drops of rain, and your drenched clothes are not helping."

"Aren't you the one who told me to get drenched and be refreshed?" You replied sardonically, though the lovesick smile on your face betrays you.

He chuckled, "Let's continue this back home."

Home with him. It sent the elephants stomping in your stomach. Forget the fluttering butterflies!

He intertwined your fingers with his as you both walk back with goofy smiles, "Yeah, let's head home."

An idyllic hilly meadow greeted your sight as you stand tall after an arduous journey. Beside you is the prize worth of every gems in the world. As your blood-soaked hand held his, the two of you embarked a new journey towards tomorrow.

And this this time, you won't be alone. Mazes may seperate you two along the way, you'll always find your way back to each other's arms. A farewell between star crossed lovers doesn't exist, for they will meet later on at the end.

─ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. werp that will wrap up this series, I'll be working on with all of your requests and if I can insert the Xiao version of this then it's considered lucky. thank you everyone for supporting this fic, for encouraging me to continue more than one part and sharing your thoughts about it. i value comments more than anything so pls tell me what you think, I don't reply to all comments but I read all of them 💙💜

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzaar @katsuissus @tikitsune @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @lemonlimesocks @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @thetwinkims @sweetbills @nanami-s-tie @rain-and-a-nice-nap @a-rose-byanothername @swirrley @lasignoramybeloved @magicalnaturenerd @boundedbyfate @extremelytoastybread @vvyeislazzy @dear-dairiess @crowleysthings @imafatpug @tjjjrsj + kokomisimppp alice4wonderland2184 quereespf haru-tofuu vv3ntii and others that I can't tag for sum reason tumblr won't explain •_•

©OTAKUWORKS | FEB 2023

Imagine if fatui Scaramouche ever got to encounter Albedo

The parallel and contrast between them is insane—Albedo yearning for the very thing that happened to “ruin” Scaramouche’s life is *chefs kiss* (I also wanted to draw scaramouche letting everything out and crying and breaking down)

alhaitham used to think that one of the most fascinating aspects of human life was how one chooses a mate.

you’re making it weird. just say lover, the voice at the back of his mind scolds– a voice that sounds eerily similar to kaveh.

but it’s not weird, it’s biology. it’s a selective, compensatory process in which individuals combine scores on several key attributes. such attributes include - but are not limited to - supply and demand, individual circumstance, biology, psychology, religion. it’s an exchange theory of sorts, in which humans pick mates based on who best benefits them. he’d always thought that, should he find ‘a lover,’ it’d be someone like himself.

alhaitham will always be a scholar first and foremost, but every academic thought, fact, and hypothesis disappeared from his mind when he met you. all it took once one glance in your direction and you challenged his every preconceived notion.

you studied under the amurta darshan. he studied under haravatat. you smile and greet every passerby who spares you a glance. he really couldn’t be bothered to lift his nose out of his book. your career in emergency medicine is loud and fast-paced. his job as the scribe (and temporarily the acting grand sage) is largely quiet aside from the occasional research outing or squabble amongst the sages. you voluntarily take extra shifts at the bimarstan all the time, whereas he walks out the akademiya doors at five and never looks back. you like dogs, he prefers cats.

there’s no denying that the two of you are different, and that’s why the outcome rejects his hypothesis. you’re nothing like him and he chose you anyway.

he chose you (even ‘put a ring on it’ as kaveh says) despite the fact that you arrange your books in alphabetical order rather than the dewey decimal system he’s followed since childhood.

which is why he doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly acting like this. if he could swiftly classify your behaviour, it’d be much easier for him to make adjustments to whatever it is he’s doing, but he still hasn’t figured it out.

you’re on the night shift today, which means you’re still asleep as he gets ready for the day. he presses a kiss to your temple, pulling the covers back up around your chin before heading into the kitchen.

kaveh’s already awake too, nursing a mug of coffee as he mulls over the blueprints spread over the dinner table. alhaitham pours himself some coffee, settling into a chair and ignoring his roommate’s protests as he pushes blueprints aside to make room for his mug.

“i was looking at those,” the architect grumbles. “can’t you sit somewhere else?”

alhaitham opens his book, flipping to the page he’d left off on. “it’s my table.”

“that i picked!”

“and i paid for.”

he knows that kaveh can’t argue with that. he smirks, crossing his leg over his knee as kaveh mutters curses, gathering up his blueprints and stomping over to the living room.

when he’s got a good book open, ignoring kaveh’s grumblings is an easy task. his eyes shift toward the clock, and when he sees it’s almost time to head to the akademiya, it’s his turn to grumble.

but then you saunter out of the bedroom, stretching languidly before shuffling over to sit in his lap, pressing various, sleepy kisses to his face. “good morning.”

“ugh,” kaveh scoffs from the couch. “so unbecoming.”

“move out then,” alhaitham suggests, gripping your chin and pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“i can bring you lunch today,” you suggest, hugging him tightly. “or we can go to puspa café and finally have our fortunes read in the coffee grounds!”

“no need,” he tells you. “i’ll just have amani bring me something.”

your face immediately falls, and he doesn’t need to be a scholar to know he’s made some sort of mistake. especially when you slide off his lap, picking up his unfinished cup of coffee and placing it in the sink.

“oh, it’s so awkward,” he hears kaveh say from the living room.

“i wasn’t…” he swallows his protests when you turn around, hands on your hips.

“well, you can just have amani bring you a new one when you get to work.” you turn on your heel, heading off to the bedroom and slamming the shut behind you.

“you handled that terribly,” kaveh informs him. “clearly you’ve never had a woman scream at you with her eyes.”

alhaitham closes his book letting out a breath. “noted.”

after a beat silence, his roommate is the one who sighs, claiming the seat across from him. “alright, i’m going to help you now. because i know that your life has been one grand exercise in romantic self-destruction.”

“romantic self—”

“let me finish. between the job that you have and the one that you somehow got, how often are you home?”

“same hours as always,” he answers easily. just because he had two jobs now did not mean he had to work longer than his standard nine to five.

kaveh shakes his head. “yes, but you always come home too exhausted to do anything, and then she goes to work for the night.”

“that is typically what employed adults who pay rent do.”

he can’t help but chuckle when kaveh rolls his eyes. “okay, smartass. but do yourself a favour and don’t talk about the assistant that obviously has a crush on you. it’s always ‘amani’s this,’ and ‘amani that.’ next time your fiancee offers to bring you lunch, just say yes and absolutely don’t mention that your assistant can bring it to you instead. she’s jealous. you simply have to assure her that she has no reason to be.”

you’re not like that, alhaitham thinks. because he knows you. knows that you’d never be prone to something as cliché as jealousy. and of almani? whose face he couldn’t pick out of a crowd if he tried?

also, kaveh absolutely could not be right. he refused it.

_____

alhaitham’s already at the bimarstan when you arrive, holding two to-go cups of coffee from puspa café. you roll your eyes as your coworkers and patients are whisper amongst themselves, in awe of the akademiya scribe/acting grand sage in their midst.

“you still have approximately ten minutes before your shift,” he tells you. “have coffee with me.”

“i need to get ready,” you huff, speed-walking toward the staff room. “why don’t you drink it with almani instead?”

it’s a low blow, and it’s punctuated by the flash of hurt that flickers across his face. he follows you, though, ignoring the ‘staff only’ sign and shutting the door tightly behind you both.

he opts to stay silent as you put your things away, letting you take the drinks from his hand, “you don’t have to drink it. caffeine intake can affect a person’s fine motor skills. such circumstances are unideal if you’re stitching together a wound or—”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you take the lid off one of the drinks, still glaring at him as you take a sip. “i’m not your assistant.”

if looks could kill, he’d be dead. usually, this is the kind of look you reserve for kaveh when he’s banging around building knick-knacks in the middle of the night.

“i don’t like amani.” alhaitham takes the cup from your hands, placing it on the bench. “i love you, and i don’t say it enough.”

you deflate a little, shaking your head. “no— i— i know. i guess it’s just been a little crazy with everything that’s been going on. you’re the acting grand sage now and you’re busier than ever. i should be more supportive instead of being crazy jealous of—”

“so you were jealous?” damn kaveh.

“well, if i started spending all my time with someone other than you, wouldn’t you be?”

“no,” he answers confidently, reaching out and pulling you in by the waist. “i’m kind of a big deal around here. you certainly can’t do better than me.

“doctor,” one of your medical students interrupts, poking her head into the room. “the general mahamatra is in need of medical attention. he’s asked for you, specifically.”

wait, cyno? asking for you?

this information doesn’t seem to puzzle you the way it does him, and you press a quick kiss to alhaitham’s lips, smiling. “i’ll be right there.”

and if alhaitham hovers a little too closely, shooting daggers over the top of his book while you clean up and stitch the wound on cyno’s unfortunately well-sculpted abdomen, laughing at his every awful joke— you simply smirk, choosing not to say anything.

The AMOUNT of passion given through this fic is just 😳🤚🤌🤌🤌✨ literally gonna go feral for a part two

A fall from grace (Yandere! Sub! Childe)

Characters: Yandere! Sub! Childe x Dom! Gn! Reader

Themes for the whole story: yandere, obsessive behavior, s/m themes, self-choking, masturbation, mentions of death and suicide (brief mention, not part of plot), Childe being gross towards the end

This is pretty much a slow-burn so strap in, gets interesting towards the end :’)

It was a peculiar feeling. Tartaglia can’t quite recall the last time he had felt this intensely about another human being. Or anything else for that matter.

One can imagine how truly strange it was to him once he had found somebody who had genuinely piqued his interests. At the start, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was about you that got him wrapped around your little finger.

Keep reading

After finishing song of achilles within 2 days.. I can say I don't feel sad..

I feel empty.

Instead of the ache within that we feel after reading some good angst, I feel as though a part of my soul just died.

I don't feel sad at the tragedy..

but the tears that threaten to escape say otherwise.

Imagine being Heaven's Therapist. The person would probably quit after the first day.

Pei Ming would show up there just to flirt, regardless of gender, he will try his luck.

Xie Lian would be the only one showing up daily except that he doesn't like to acknowledge that he has trauma so he'd be laughing about it and feel awkward when the therapist isn't laughing too. Meanwhile the therapist might have second-hand trauma from Xie Lian's jokes.

Mu Qing won't even show up.

Hua Cheng sneaks into heaven just because there's someone getting paid to listen to rants so he can talk about how much he loves Xie Lian all day long.

Jun Wu would also never show up. 2000 years of baggage, one therapist will never be enough.

Feng Xin might show up and actually get shit done. He needs a therapist and not their go-to sarcastic one (I mean you Mu-Qing).

Shi Wudu also wouldn't show up but he'd make Shi Qingxuan go.

Shi Qingxuan would drag Ming Yi with him and it would be so awkward for so many reasons. Cause Shi Qingxuan isn't even aware....that he has trauma...... (Yes, this is pre canon). Ming Yi would go for the snacks though.

Ling Wen would go. It's an important part of her schedule but she's only going because it's the only time she can sip tea in peace and be left alone. She's not speaking a word to the therapist. Except maybe bonding from their stressed out jobs.

Quan Yizhen would go because everyone told him to go. He's not sure why he's there. If someone asks about his feelings he'll talk about Shixiong before he curls on the couch and fall asleep.

Lang Qianqiu...... actually has a lot to get off his chest. Even pre-cannon. It gets worse post-cannon. I'm sure, like Qi Ying, he just wants to ask "Did I do something wrong?"

#𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru has ruined your best friend’s life—and you’re about to make it a whole lot worse yourself ; part 2 here

— pairing ⋮ gojo satoru x reader

— length ⋮ 2.1k words

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, mentions of betrayal (gojo is your best friend’s ex and you fuck him), (slight) mutual pining, toxic! gojo, lovesick! gojo, (slightly) mean! gojo, car sex, light choking, edging, unprotected sex, praise, creampie

— notes ⋮ this is for my soulmate @bxnten 's burn book collab <3 we r mean girls to everyone but each other hehe ily kitty cat <33

gojo satoru is a sleazy, backstabbing, knife-twisting, and heartbreaking asshole. he has little regard for others, doesn’t bother to ponder the weight of his actions, acts as though the world revolves around him, and you’re sick of him—or so you tell yourself. 

he’s made your friend’s life hell, really. he’s made her cry, made her question her worth, made her sacrifice things she shouldn’t have to, made her so unhappy, that you can’t help but wish you could punch him in his (perfect) teeth. you tell yourself you’re sick of picking up phone calls that turn into hours worth of tearful rants, and you tell yourself you’re sick of being haunted by his cocky smirk as he shoots you a wink in the back of your mind. it’s how any good friend would feel—any good friend would look at him and wish he’d drop dead on the spot for all the times he’s fucked up. 

but you suppose you’re not half as good of a friend as you once thought you were—maybe you’re not as fiercely loyal as you gave yourself credit for. because what kind of friend would be sprawled on the backseat of the ex’s car that they’re supposed to hate? what kind of a friend would cling desperately to the same man they’ve said probably has a small dick anyway, drunk on the drag of his cock? what kind of friend would ever think about getting with their friend’s ex—let alone actually do it?

you, apparently.

“that feel good, sweetheart?” he chuckles, hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. your head spins at the cut-off of oxygen, a shaky gasp falling off your lips as your stare up at him. gojo chuckles, loosening his grip, kissing away the stray tears on your cheek as you whimper at the shallow thrust of his hips. “you like when i do this, huh? like when i fuck you like this? bet you like me, don’t you?” he grins cheekily.

he’s an asshole. 

a horrible, heartless, selfish, insensitive, and self-absorbed asshole. but his cock drags along your walls so good, the stretch making your mind fog and your back arch until your chests meet, your nipples brushing against his through the fabric and making you both groan.

“act like you hate me so bad, but i bet you were just mad, huh? are you mad i didn’t pick you first, is that it?” he pouts, squeezing your cheeks together and leaving you with no choice but to look at him as he presses his forehead to yours.

but you’re stubborn, you have been since you first met. you refuse to shake his hand when he first offers it, refuse to be on civil terms when he third wheels hangouts, and refuse to apologize first after any arguments that might stir. and you’re stubborn now too, closing your eyes to have some level of power of your own against him—but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop and gritting his teeth as he feels the burn of his orgasm die down.

you whine, buck your hips, and open your eyes as you stare at him confused, “what the fuck? why’d you—”

“asked you a question, sweetheart,” he sneers, hand finding its way down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that have you whining as your head tosses back.

“p-please, gojo—need it—”

“uh uh,” he drawls, that annoying, infuriating, and sickeningly smug little smile on his face as he looks down at you, “you gotta answer my question. then i’ll give you what you want,” he pats your cheek. “you wish i picked you, don’t you baby?”

“no,” you spit, glaring at him harshly, “you’re a fucking asshole. you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, and you couldn’t love someone if your life depended on it. fucking dickhead—” you cut yourself off with a squeal when his fat tip slams into you all of a sudden, right against your spot, making your arms wrap tightly around his neck as your legs hook around his waist.

you’re clinging to him desperately by now, sobbing with every harsh roll of his hips, crying out every time his navel bumps along your clit and pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. gojo’s jaw is clenched, his hands gripping your hips so tight, you almost think there’ll be bruises by the time he’s done. your slick and his pre cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his dick and a trail down the inner sides of your thighs, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have made a cheeky comment about how wet you are.

“oh yeah, is that right? i don’t care about feelings? i can’t love someone?” he laughs, but there’s not a trace of amusement in his tone—it’s so condescending, so mean, you have to fight back tears. “you’re the best friend. i’m just an ex. wait till she finds out just how much you care,” he spits, venom lacing his tone as you gasp, shaky and just a little scared. it satisfies him maybe a tad bit too much. “i bet she’ll be thrilled to hear how lost on my cock you get, always beggin’ for more—aren’t you just a greedy little thing?”

“n-no,” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt tightly, fighting the wobble of your lips at the thought. “you can’t. you can’t! please, gojo, you can’t tell her, sh-she…she’ll never speak to me again a-and—”

“aw, don’t cry sweetheart,” he laughs, and his hips are slamming into your abused cunt mercilessly now, making your walls flutter around him as he lets out a low grunt, moaning against your ear—and he sounds so pretty, so sweet and divine and perfect, it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

you almost understand why it took your friend as long as it did to finally leave him.

“please, gojo,” you sniffle, teary eyes staring up at him pleadingly. it makes his heart jump, makes his heart ache a little deep in his chest.

because you’re wrong. he isn’t always an asshole, and he does care sometimes—in fact, he always cares when it’s about you. gojo satoru thinks he’d let the sun bleed out if he had to, as long as he has your smile to brighten his days for as long as he lives. because you’re wrong, he can love—and he loves you desperately.

he never wanted to fall in love with his girlfriend’s best friend. never wanted to be a shallow man with even shallower intentions, but who could hear your laugh and see your smile and not fall head over heels? it makes him mad—hurts deep in his chest and aches so bad, that he thinks you’re almost bad for his health. you don’t bat an eyelash at him, don’t even wanna be around him for longer than you have to be—and yet, he wants you by his side for longer than eternity. he can’t help but wish he met you first, can’t help but hate the universe for being so cruel, so heartless for making him find the one person he wants more than anything like this. 

he wants you badly, and the worst part is even if you want him too, you’d never let yourself indulge in something as retched as a betrayal—even if technically, you already have the second his cock sank into you. 

so he presses a gentle kiss between your brows, leaves a trail of kisses along your cheek and jaw, and he hovers over your lips. “i won’t tell,” he mumbles against them, making your breath hitch in shock, “won't say a word if you call me toru, yeah? jus’ say toru, just once, yeah? i gotta hear it.”

“promise?” you sniffle, “you promise you won’t tell?”

“promise,” he agrees with a nod, and he even holds out a pinky to seal the deal. a soft grin spreads across his lips when your own pinky hooks around his, the warmth of your touch, as small as it might be, lighting him up until he feels like his chest is pressed with the weight of the sun.

“kay,” you mumble, “need more, toru—please, gimme more,” you beg, and his name tastes so sweet rolling off your tongue, so saccharine it almost feels like it’s dripped with honey, trickling past your lips and rolling down your chin for him to kiss off. it makes your head spin that you never want to say gojo again now that you’ve gotten a taste of toru. 

with a shaky exhale against your mouth at the sound of his name, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, desperate and needy and just a little starved. his cock is aching by now, throbbing in your dripping core, balls heavy and ready to release as he rolls his hips faster into you. his skin slaps against yours, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your wet cunt filling the small space of his car, his body towering over you in the cramped back seat. he lets his hand find the soft flesh of the back of your thigh, hoisting your leg over his shoulder as he angles himself deeper into you, letting out a strangled cry when your walls flutter around him tightly. 

“fuck, that’s it—g-gonna be the death o’ me, sweetheart,” he grunts, “so good, takin’ me so well, yeah? so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps. his thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles and watching entranced as tears spill past your lash line, staining your cheeks with a soft, wet glisten that makes his heart squeeze and his chest tighten. “god, you’re so perfect, so pretty. my pretty girl,” he coos, “my. pretty. girl,” each word is followed by a sharp thrust, and the slam of his tip against your sweet spot, and the way he sounds so possessive as he claims you as his makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin through his shirt.

“toru, toru, ‘m close—please, ‘m so close—”

“i know, baby,” he pants, moaning into your neck as his head buries into the small space, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “‘m close too, gonna cum—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he whines. 

“fuck—toru, toru, ‘m…‘m cumming,” you scream, your orgasm crashing over your body, making your arms wrap around him tightly as you cling to him and sob. your walls spasm around him erratically, the sound of your mewls as you cry his name pushing him into his own release. 

his head digs into your shoulder, his body trembling over yours as he lets his hips slam into you sloppily, thick ribbons of cum painting your walls white as you feel his cock twitch with every rope. 

“oh fuck, baby, that’s it—sh-shit, feels so good,” he pants, “g-god you’re somethin’ else, should’ve…should’ve picked you. it should’ve been you—god, i love you,” he babbles into your skin, too overwhelmed by the pleasure burning through his spine as he fucks you both through your highs to even realize the words he’s admitted or the way you stiffen in his arms. 

he pulls out and stares at the mess between your legs for a moment, watching as his cum drips down your legs in thick streams. a small bit of pride bubbles up in his chest at the sight before he slumps his body over yours, head digging back into your neck and his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin. 

“we can’t keep doing this,” you mumble, but your hand still finds its way to his hair, stroking through the strands gently. it feels right, like this is how it was always supposed to be—like this is how it should be. 

your words make his arms tighten around you, and gojo presses more weight against your body—like the more he presses into you, the longer he can spend in your arms. 

“sure we can,” he says stubbornly, “i promised i won’t tell,” he insists, voice lilting into what you think is borderline desperate—desperate to keep you here, where you’re his, where it doesn’t matter if he found you first or if he found you last. 

he found you, and that’s all he needs. 

“but—”

“i won’t tell if you don’t,” he pleads, “you’re still mine, baby.” 

and there’s a buzzing of your phone from the front seat, but you ignore it, letting your arms wrap tighter around his figure as you kiss the side of his head—and for a second, as bad of a friend as it might cause you to be, you think what someone doesn't know can’t possibly hurt them.

even if it makes you a backstabber.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

MAPPA really highlighted Fujimoto's love for movies

Pulp Fiction / Sadako vs Kayako / No Country For Old Men / The Big Lebowski / Attack of The Killer Tomatoes

01 - 02 - 03

this hurt like a bitch wtf

aftermath of a break up

cutting ties with you was easy. getting over you wasn't.

includes: childe, zhongli & xiao !

CHILDE had been the one to say those words, fueled by his momentary anger in the heat of the moment — “we should go our separate ways.”

and hours later even as his rationality returned, impulsive tendencies out of the way, he couldn't bring himself to regret it; why would he? on the contrary, he'd never been better! dating wasn't a necessary part of life, and even if it'd been nice with you by his side, he could live on his own without you all the same. he did it before, and he'd do it again.

CHILDE had his priorities straight. chasing after a lover who didn't want him anymore — oh, excuse me, he meant a lover he didn't want anymore — certainly wasn't at the top of the list. he had a family to care for, enemies to battle, and a duty to the tsaritsa; you didn't fit anywhere in the equation. your separation even granted him more freedom! no one to nag him to stop fighting, or to forbid him from purchasing useless expenditures, or to force him to rest when he was clearly busy with his job, or to meddle with any of his personal affairs from here on out.

but in the dead of the night as he drags his battered body to the comfort of his home, aching all over from bruises and cuts, something wells up in his throat. his hands are shaky as he opens the first aid kit, eyes examining the contents closely. he isn't very familiar with the items inside — you were always there to take care of him, he never needed to check it himself.

there's something wrong about returning home without the lights turned on, the panicked questions flung at him as he's ushered to sit, and the soft hands carefully treating his injuries. there's something wrong without someone to lean on, someone to wait for him to come back, someone who worries for his wellbeing when nobody else does. someone who puts him back together when he's fallen to pieces.

and as CHILDE drops the roll of bandages to the floor and cries in silence, he wonders what went wrong.

on the surface, ZHONGLI's behavior didn't differ much from his normal day to day attitude — he moved at his own pace, working diligently at the funeral parlor without breaking a sweat, and offered little information pertaining what transpired the day before. his colleagues were well aware of his recent... separation, you could say. after all, your heated argument wasn't a very private affair, since you'd broken into a fight at a relatively populated spot of town.

ZHONGLI acted stoic throughout, showing no signs of backing down in his side of things, and coming to a disagreement, you split up. unruffled as ever, he paid no mind to the worried glances sent his direction during work the next day; perhaps avoiding them consciously to a degree.

it worked, somewhat, and break time eventually came along, wherein ZHONGLI habitually prepared himself some tea and snacks. it didn't even occur to him he'd prepared two servings by pure muscle memory alone until he sat down and saw nobody sitting opposite of him — the spot where he expected you to be present, smiling at him like you always did.

something pricked at his chest, piercing through a weak point he thought he never had, but he numbs the pain, hastily inviting a coworker to share tea. she appears to be surprised, an emotion akin to pity glossing over her eyes, and ZHONGLI can't bring himself to force a smile.

the loneliness he feels doesn't subside.

when verr goldet first heard news of you dating the adeptus, she'd been relieved. XIAO had a bad habit of overexerting himself more often than not, arriving at wangshu inn half-dead after his usual patrols to fend off entities with malicious intent. though she'd been tasked with looking after him, it wasn't easy to tell him off. he'd be more likely to scoff at her concern than take her warnings to heart. “i can handle myself.”

with you by his side, a worrywart and stern to boot, her worries lessened considerably. XIAO actually listened to you intently, vowing to have some semblance of self-preservation rather than throw himself into violence carelessly. he began to smile more, too, his usual scowl withering to a passive expression. verr hadn't been given the opportunity to see his smile personally, but she heard his small chuckles whenever you came over and initiated pleasant conversations.

however, the peaceful days came to an abrupt end. XIAO came back one day, drenched from the rain; his blood mixed with the droplets running down his face, and verr wondered if he'd been crying, taking notice of his reddened eyes. her first instinct was to call you over, but he stopped her immediately, coldly glaring her down and cutting off anything she said sharply. “i don't need them anymore.”

but anyone could tell he still does. he stands at the top of wangshu inn, waiting patiently for someone who'll never come, and he knew it. he knew because he was the one who pushed you away in the first place. but he reasons with himself it was for the best, for your better future. he may live an eternal youth, but you can't — there was no point in staying this way forever, was there? (and yet he continues to wait anyway, waiting, waiting, and waiting. what a laughable fool.)

and as XIAO leaves for his patrol one afternoon, verr goldet sighs, pulling out a piece of mail she'd hidden away out of his sight.

she hopes he'll never see this wedding invitation soon.