#these past few years i've been really realizing how unaware people are of the history of antisemitism

[fillejondrette]

there is a certain type of person who now cannot see any mention of the holocaust in a historical context without bringing up palestine in a "gotcha" way. it's so gross and antisemitic. what the government of israel is doing to palestinian civilians is evil and genocidal but it is not the same as the holocaust. things can be different and still important.

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

◈ Pairing: Zhongli x fem!Reader ◈ Summary: You return to Liyue after spending years abroad in Sumeru. Unfortunately, Zhongli has not changed one bit and you find yourself trapped in the friendzone. ◈ Contains: Modern AU, age gap, previously teacher-student, neighbors, teenage crushes, light angst, minor character death, problematic tropes, friendzone

Friend

Zhongli sighed softly, cushioning your bruised ego as he rejects you yet again in the most gentle of ways.

This man had been many things to you over the years, but there was one person he refused to be, your lover. It was as if he had made a silent contract with some higher power to never cross that invisible line.

The first time you aired your feelings to him, you weren’t even sure if it was even love. It was at most a silly crush then, nothing like the unmovable rock that had taken up permanent residence in your heart. When your fates first intertwined, he was just your history teacher. Prim and proper, handsome, although a tad long-winded whenever he opened his mouth, you were instantly infatuated as many of your classmates were. Perhaps if fate hadn't decided to meddle further, this shallow crush of yours would've came and went as nothing more than a temporary fixation.

"Zhongli... I was just kidding. I'm not a teenager anymore." You tried to laugh it off, but your hands trembled under the table. "How many years has it been?"

"Far too many." Zhongli chuckled. "I've missed you much, friend." He says that word with so much sincerity, your heart breaks a little.

You never bothered to explain why you had been single for the past few years and he never asked. Hutao would occasionally narrow her eyes at you when you brought up a certain "friend" in conversation, but even she didn't link this mysterious individual you refused to name to the the man that used to be your history teacher. The three of you had really gone a long way. Hutao went off to take over her grandfather's funeral parlor. You received an acceptance letter from the Sumeru Akademiya and went abroad. Before you know it, half a decade had flown by. Zhongli became the receiver of your ever frequent messages and calls. Somehow you had grown even closer to him while you were thousands of miles away. His replies were often longer than warranted and always thoughtful like he was. You could almost hear his voice when you read them. While most of his students were glad they no longer needed to sit through his lectures, you had undoubtedly come to miss them.

At that time, your colleagues were pairing up left and right, so predictably, you felt left out. You were hopeful then that you'd find your special someone and hit it off too. Contrary to your optimism, the more you dated around in Sumeru, the more exhausted you became. There was an itch in your heart and nobody you met could scratch it. While venting to Hutao about yet another failed date, realization finally hit you. You had been looking for traces of Zhongli in those dates. In between the endless text messages, occasional calls and hushed goodnights, you've never actually felt the sting of loneliness. Of course your dating endeavors were a complete failure.

You never fell out of whatever infatuation you had for him. If anything, your feelings had only grown stronger and more grounded. The dates stopped and your romantic life came to a full halt.

"You're going to end up alone. Just you wait." Hutao giggled.

"I'm alright with that." You calmly replied. "I have friends."

Till this day, you still remember the way her brow went up.

What you didn't disclose was that all the way in Liyue, Zhongli was completely unaware that he was the reason why. That was fine. If anything, the man had always been alone for most of the time you had known him. You could always keep him company as a friend and truthfully, the label over your relationship mattered less than he did. Labels had never really amounted to much in your book with the amount of times people around you have fallen short of them.

You remembered how you used to deliberately drop the 'Mister' in front of his name every time you greeted him. He eventually gave up correcting you and allowed you to address him directly whenever he ran into you outside your home. Zhongli had coincidentally moved into the apartment a few doors down. Your mother was ecstatic when she found out the handsome man she met while grabbing mail that morning was your history teacher, determined to wrangle him in for extra tutoring sessions even though you assured her that your grades were nowhere near failing. You had an image to keep up in front of your crush, even if sacrificing it would give you an excuse to stare at Zhongli's handsome face for a few extra hours every week. Although your mother's tutoring plans never came to fruition, Zhongli's phone number was now sitting in your contacts thanks to her persistence.

All your friends knew about your crush on your history teacher. There was no need to hide it because nobody took it seriously except you. Hutao was especially vocal about it, calling Zhongli dusty and old-fashioned. You liked that about him though. He exuded a sense of calm with the way he spoke and carried himself that you naturally gravitated towards. Even your mother found him trustworthy enough to entrust your safety to him in case your estranged father showed up at the door one day.

You still remembered the calming warmth and scent of the tea he placed in your shaking hands when he sat you down at his table.

"Everything will be alright." He took a seat across from you, expression grave.

You could tell that he didn't know what to say to comfort you, so you forgave him for telling that one lie. The sirens blaring loudly outside the door were muffled as he pressed his palms against your ears. Nothing was alright that day, but at least you were safe. At least you weren't alone.

"Thank you, Zhongli." You spoke up the next morning over breakfast.

"There's no need to thank me. I simply did what any neighbor would've done in that situation."

Your eyes met his. One glance told him that you disagreed, but you didn't say anything to refute what he said.

There were plenty of neighbors present, some of which were standing right there in front of your door watching when it all happened. If it weren't for Zhongli, you would've still been in there, bleeding next to your unconscious mother by the time the cops arrived.

"I am also your teacher, your elder, even if you refuse to address me so." He added softly.

"So every neighbor, every teacher, every elder would've done what you did?" You asked bluntly. In an ideal world maybe, but you knew better.

Zhongli drew in a hesitant breath, falling silent at your question. Perhaps he should not be speaking for anyone but himself, especially when the person the cops dragged off in handcuffs was your own father.

"You may consider me a friend then." He finally said after what felt like an eternity.

You eventually moved into a short term foster home after your mother's funeral. Luckily, you were allowed to continue attending the school you were at due to the end of the year being only two months away. He could've asked you to delete his phone number from your contacts then, but he didn't. How could he offer you friendship and then confiscate it less than two months later? Since he couldn't bear to sever that string of fate that anchored you to him when he had the chance, Zhongli could only watch as you tightened it. Now that you had returned to Liyue, it was clear to him how much things had changed. Zhongli was more or less the same, but your outer appearance had changed quite drastically. Despite the differences, both of you could feel the connection you shared. Unlike when you left, you had returned to him as a close friend.

Everybody you were acquainted with eventually came to know about Zhongli, but some knew a bit more than others, Hutao for example. At first, she was skeptical about how closely you had gotten entangled with him over the years. He was almost a whole decade older than you and was even your teacher at one point in your life.

"He's just a close friend." You reassured her. "It's not what you think it is."

Nobody could give their unsolicited disapproval if the two people involved refused to define the relationship.

You even handed her your phone to go through your text messages, swearing you haven't deleted a single one. Sure enough, your conversations with Zhongli were about the most sterile exchanges imaginable, save for the frequency.

"You text him more than you text me." Was all she could say when she handed you back your phone.

A friend, that's what you labeled him as whenever you mentioned him, no matter if it was to your closest friend or a stranger. Zhongli also abided by this unspoken rule, albeit rather heavy-handedly. Whether it's to remind you or himself that there was a line he couldn't cross, only he would know. Zhongli might care deeply for you, appear at your doorstep at the slightest hint of distress in your voice, take care of you when you're too sick to get out of bed and bring you dinner at work when you have to do overtime, but he couldn't be your lover. It wasn't like you never tried to change his mind. You've hinted it a few times, even borrowed the disguise of alcohol to say it straight to his face. There's only so many times a person can take rejection before they simply stop asking.

"I'm much too old for you."

"Perhaps I remind you of simpler times. Nostalgia may be the culprit. Nevertheless, I'm flattered that you've attached such fond sentiments to me."

"You've had a cup too many, dear."

"You've simply gotten used to my presence. When things finally settle into their places, you will see that it is not as you assumed."

"You will always be precious to me. Please do not joke about this matter."

He always phrased it in the most considerate ways, but the reply was always the same. Why push the same button over and over? You were no longer an impulsive teenager. It did you no good to continue prying an affirmation out of him, especially when all his actions contradicted his words. Even Hutao began rolling her eyes whenever she sees the two of you together, with the way Zhongli acted around you. If it was cold, his coat was predictably draped over your shoulders. If it was too warm, she would catch him gathering your hair into a ponytail and tying it with the dexterity of someone who had done it a thousand times. When you ate out as a group, Zhongli would always be glued to your side like an overprotective husband, pulling out your chair for you and cutting your food. You allowed him to, silently indulging in his antics just as he allowed you to get away with many of your more questionable gestures. However if anyone so much as makes a joke about how couple-like the two of you acted, both you and Zhongli would immediately refute it without any hesitation.

If he called this friendship, then perhaps there's no distinction needed. It wasn't like there was anyone else he was treating the way he treated you. He could keep his excuses and you could continue denying your feelings. Maybe one day, this rock would crack and start blooming, but until then, you were satisfied with this so-called friendship. After all, it wasn't like any sane person could approach you with him there. If you were interested in Zhongli and learned that he had a friend that he looked after like a dragon guarding its precious gem, you'd see yourself out.

Even a blind person could see that Zhongli was in love with you. What mattered that he insisted on calling you a friend?

AN: I was going through Zhongli's voicelines and realized how many times he deliberately calls you "friend"

DAMN YOU HOYO. WHY YOU GOTTA HURT ME LIKE THIS?

[thebibliosphere]

Joy! I've officially jumped on the Phangs bandwagon, so I can finally send coherent questions about it—how did you come up with the political landscape? I imagine it's at least partially inspired by true events, but how do you keep straight the political compasses of each character?

Eeey! Welcome aboard!

And yeah, a lot of it's based on history, but also a lot of current events if you squint. (Or maybe you don't need to squint.)

As for how I keep the characters straight (ha!) I had definite ideas about them while forming their personalities and history.

Nathan is the youngest and only starting to question the political landscape around him. He's not politically unaware but perhaps a little naive and unwilling to see how corrupt everything is.

He's been conditioned from a young age not to question authority. Military indoctrination will do that to you. Only when he finds himself on the frontline of an unjust and hopeless war does he realize things aren't what they seem. He still toes the line... until he gets injured, and the true depths of how little the military or government cares for people like him gives him a nasty jolt. Even in the first book, he's still somewhat in denial because part of him doesn't want to admit that he's been complacent. You can see what in the conversation with his brother Miles. His realization that he's spent his whole life following orders doesn't sit well with him, and that's a theme that will continue for his character in all future books.

It's only when he meets Vlad that he genuinely starts to question things, and that's because Vlad is the walking embodiment of a homemade Molotov cocktail wrapped up in a silk suit and a fierce, unshakeable sense of justice.

Vlad was created as a challenge to the bored, misanthropic vampire stereotype who doesn't give a shit about humanity because they've been around for hundreds of years and lost all faith in humanity. If anything, the longer Vlad is around humanity, the more fiercely he loves it and wants to do everything he can to help them. He grew up under the bloody iron fist of his grandfather's regime and saw firsthand what happens in a world devoid of democracy, and he's been running from it ever since.

He can only do a little under his father's thumb. But what he can do, Vlad does with all of his being. He's found ways to enable free schooling and medical care on the island, and if you give him a few more decades, he'll find a way to make housing accessible, too. (It's a numbers game, and he's very good with numbers. And honestly, his father doesn't pay too much attention to what he's doing. Not if he's careful about it...) He's also a staunch believer in the power of worker's unions, and despite technically being the person the unions would fight against, he is trying to help the workers of his island unionize because he believes it is the just and right thing to do.

Ultimately, Vlad is my firebrand catalyst for change, and I am really looking forward to exploring his arcs in future books.

Ursula is... tricky. She's in a precarious situation where she can't afford to draw attention to herself and, at times, has been forced to side with people she'd otherwise cheerfully drown because they could offer her the best protection. It's exhausting and soul-destroying, and it leaves her feeling powerless. Which is laughable when considering who she is. What she is.

She hates it. She wants it to be different. She doesn't like feeling so hopeless. Defeated. But she's tried to change things in the past, and it almost destroyed everything. So now she just keeps her head down and works from the shadows. It's safest that way. Not to mention quicker. After all, what's one more human war to an immortal [REDACTED]? If she ignores it, it'll go away. Eventually. Right? Right? (This may or may not be the denial talking.) (It is absolutely the denial talking.)

The fact that human politics are about to severely and unavoidably affect her will not go down well. Ursula is, in fact, going to be bloody livid about it. Not to mention guilt-riddled for burying her head in the sand and letting the humans go unchecked for so long.

Fortunately, she's got some new allies in her corner. A fiercely protective werewolf with a newfound sense of political rage and a vampire who's been spoiling for a fight of this magnitude for over four hundred years. Maybe, just maybe, this time, things will be different...

[lollytea]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Mar tagged me in this. Thank you Mar <333

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

22

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

358,837

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Owls....for now and the foreseeable future. Other things in the past but....owls. Owls and nothing else.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

There's Sunshine in Your Smile

Atlas and the Avid Reader

A Little Change

An Exercise in Understanding

Girl Talk

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I don't, I'm sorry!! When I first started posting on ao3, I answered every comment I got, but as more came in, I realized I was running out of ways to respond and it felt like I was just copy and pasting "thank you so much omg!!!" again and again and it felt awkward and disingenuous. (I meant it tho!! I did!!)

Also I never have any idea how to respond to long essay type comments that were picking the fic apart and highlighting everything they like about it. I ADORE those comments!!! They make me happier than anything else on earth but HOW can I respond to them?? A one liner thanks feels cheap and meaningless, but a long ramble about my own stuff feels arrogant.

So I just stopped replying to comments altogether. But listen please listen!!! I do read them!!! I read every single one of them and I love and appreciate them with all my heart!!! Thank you so so SO much to anybody who's ever left a comment on anything I've written!!!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really write angsty endings. I guess atlas and pages both ended on a bit of a bittersweet note? Maybe.

That one ducktales fic Fearless left off on a kinda angsty cliffhanger, only because I never finished it. So it's technically an ending

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Man I dunno most of them are kinda open ended (or unfinished) I suppose A Little Change ended on a sickeningly sweet note. Like disgustingly sweet (because I was 19 and stupid and had no concept of subtlety) Penniless Promises ended with a marriage proposal.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No the only hate comment I've ever gotten is this one

It kinda annoys me. I consider your first hate comment to be a special milestone in your fanfic writing history. I've been waiting years for this. And then I FINALLY get it but I have no fucking idea what it means.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I've written bits and pieces over the years but I don't post any of it. I think the last "smut" I posted was weird werewolf knotting shit in like 2017

What kind? Fuckin uhhhhh. It's always very fluffy. Usually there's nothing weird going on. Sometimes there's monsters involved but the monsters are usually massive sweethearts who just want love.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. A few times. And it's always fucking wattpad. At one point, somebody put my fic through Google translate and reposted it in Spanish. I would have been completely unaware if somebody hadn't messaged me about it.

The process of getting them to take it down was a fucking circus. Their ability to use Google translate suddenly vanished the moment I contacted them.

I reported it and had to go back and forth with Wattpad support because the fic was IN SPANISH, so they just kinda glanced at it and were like "This is not the same thing that you wrote. These are different words. Spanish words." I was losing my MIND!!!!!!

They took it down eventually. Anyway...sorry I went on a tangent, I just think this is a funny story. Moral of the story is there are probably several stolen fics on wattpad and run through translators, and we have no idea. There might be more of mine on there but honestly I do not have the energy to be monitoring the stupid site. I hate wattpad so much its unreal.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

As we have just learned from the above story, yes :D!!

But also yeah, some people asked permission to translate my stuff and post it with credit. Sunshine has been translated into Spanish and Ukrainian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No I can barely manage to write them myself

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Undocumented Events of March 23rd. I might update it at some point in the next five years. But I had so many chapters planned that it will probably never reach the ending at the pace I'm going with it. But I love the jungle book husbands. I get back to them at some point in time

16. What are your writing strengths?

Word disease is the worst fucking thing ever but it CAN be a good thing in some circumstances. A huge meaty chunk of a fic. Something to dig into. Having a lot to say can lead to a lot to write. And the more you write, the more likely you'll get some quality stuff in there.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I repeat. Word disease is the worst fucking thing ever. And when it's coupled with a complexity addiction, UGGH!!! It's a blight on my life. I can't just write a simple straightforward fic, without getting carried away and the ideas just get bigger and bigger. Suddenly I'm implementing more elaborate concepts, scenes that need to be handled delicately. Everything takes absolutely all of my brainpower because I'm a neurotic overthinker who can never just RELAX and write something fun. And I WANT all of it. I want to execute all the plans that exist in my head but then I get overwhelmed by how big and complicated everything has gotten and I get burned out. Which is why things so rarely get done.

I'm a perfectionist. A horrible terrible one. I struggle to write ANYTHING without carefully constructing every individual line of it. Which makes progress so slow and tedious. I get scared to even START fics because I'm afraid I'll make myself feel awful again if they don't turn out good.

My grammar is very imperfect but I'm working on that.

I can be very unnecessarily wordy and take forever to get to the point. I've reread my own stuff and even I have difficulty following it because the sentences just have so many bells and whistles for no good reason. I completely forget a huge chunk of vocab and don't realize they are simpler way to phrase things.

My attempts at executing believable emotional scenes often fall kinda flat. Writing drama is hard but I'm amazed by some people's capability to master it so I'm chipping away at it, hoping to get better.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't really have any thoughts at all about them. Literally none.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I'd like to say it was Trolls but it was actually Hetalia when I was like 14. But I do everything within my power to distance myself from Hetalia, so I like to say it doesn't count. But....need to be honest.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Currently, at this point that I am at, the ones I used to be the most proud of now feel like they were a waste of time. I'm sure that will change again in a few months. How I feel about my own stuff is never consistent. The way that this question is phrased implies a forever favourite. Something I loved then, I love now and will love in future, and that is just never the case.

But also I don't wanna be an Eeyore about it, so I'll say a trance, a dance, a romance perchance?

I really do love my fairy Willow. She's so special to me :D!!

Tagging: after writing this whole post, I now feel very weird tagging people specifically and being like "HEY YOU! Look at this post I made <33" This is like a don't look at me post. BUT I do have lots of writer mutuals. And writer followers. If you're one of them and you see this....you!!!! Tag youre it!!!!

[chocobox]

incest tw i hate the hetalia experience -_-

i've been very scared of touching the hitsuji de oyasumi drama cd with england and america in it because i've known for years that people champion it as being ship bait and i didn't wanna deal with it even in the interest of hearing england's voice. but yesterday i processed the rest of the volume covers for that series (my england bubble is very thick. this one is on me.) and i realized that it was quite literally a series built around highlighting familial relationships??????? and i was like. ok. SO LIKE... WHAT? because one of the most common arguments that has always been used for that ship is "well they aren't brothers ANYMORE!!! so it's ok" and if this series is. deliberately highlighting their sibling relationship... how does that track as ship bait. (and this isn't to say i'm unaware that there IS ship bait for them in canon, but most if not all of it is relegated to the comic and seldom makes it past that)

so i caved i was like well i might as well see what's going on. and i did. and it was so innocuous that it makes my HEAD HURT. THIS WAS THE "SHIP BAIT" I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT? Does no one here have SIBLINGS? literally everything was so. normal. like it really goes out of its way to highlight the familial aspects of their relationship (talking about how england would count sheep for america as a kid) and anything people were deeming shippy was stuff that literally any siblings wouldn't bat an eye at? asking your sibling to come to your room and sleep in your bed because you're scared + having a "sleeping contest" to see who falls asleep first. What. THAT'S IT. God i'm so tired of people who ship them.

unfortunately i have a personal history with the ship that makes me really vigilant about it. I know all the things people have deemed indicative of it being as canon as a hetalia ship gets but looking back on it as an adult it makes me almost feel paranoid. like without that pretense, no one would make that assumption about their relationship. only if you read through the comic would you see a few things and go like oh that's weird. but they fly past quickly, and they still piss me off but it's all just to say. it's. they are just Troubled Brothers. if you were seeing it as more than that it's truly on you.

i don't talk about it much but my unfortunately extensive knowledge of this whole situation and inability to reconcile with it as a kid was part of what did drive me away from england for so long. ): the fact that there was anything that could imply he had a crush on the younger brother he had raised since he was a kid.... it really bothered me and i didn't. want TO BE IN LOVE WITH A CHARACTER LIKE THAT? and it was easier when i was able to convince my little child mind that it was fine. but when i realized it wasn't i didn't know what to do because obviously people who ship them will make it seem much more real than it actually is. so i couldn't really bare to think about england for so long because that relationship made me so uncomfortable. but i'm glad i came back because i've been able to realize that it isn't that bad, i just thought it was worse because of how much i had seen. but it's definitely a process, and it's frustrating to sift through almost 2 decades of england fan content when so much of it is at least subtextually supposed to imply... that. That. because it has been the most popular ship for SO LONG, and that changed kind of recently, but its impact is still felt. it makes it really hard to give benefit of the doubt WHENEVER i see them together in any context, and i'm trying to get over that.

due to my past here i've had to go on like a continuous recovery mission to fix the way i see them and not hear alarms go off in my head whenever they're in each other's vicinity. i think this was a big step for that though because the cd WAS cute and i DO really like their sibling relationship 😭 aside from that another big help was rewatching the anime and seeing that they deliberately removed literally everything that could have been perceived as shippy in regards to them, which makes me feel more confident about doing the same thing myself. (DUB FANS DNI)

(also i don't know how i manage to be consistently surprised by shit like this but when i found out about all the New Brothers england got when i was gone somehow i didn't anticipate for people to be weird about that until i was being directly faced with it. i'm baffled at my own naivete there, like that hasn't been the problem for so long.)

[skiyoosmi]

to the stars above | z.

featuring. zhongli (genshin impact)

genre. fluff, angst, smut, ancient-liyue!au

word count. 5.4k

marga's notes. aAAAa look look, it's my first commission!! school has kept me really occupied for like the past month but after pulling a few all-nighters, i've finally finished my responsibilities along with this little baby! once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to my bubs @ramannnn for trusting me with this one <33

Nobody knows when the world began, how it came to be and why it continues to be. Even I, whose mind is filled with nothing but wonder for it, have no idea. One thing I am quite sure of... is how mine did.

It all started with him— a man of many titles, different identities yet at the end of the day, all these monikers are the same; it's all him. He adored Liyue more than anything else, knew it like the back of his hand. He went where the winds lead him, stayed where the moon shines upon him, stood where the golden sun kissed his skin. He found serenity in the walks he travels as he goes about his day, the sceneries his eyes take in and the calm sounds the nature resonates for him. And as if it was fate decided upon by the Celestia, it led him to me. Suddenly, my little world that used to be nothing became everything... quickly and all at once.

An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips, frustration and disappointment filling my whole being as I stare at the blank parchment paper I held in my hands. Another day was again wasted with no progress, I thought, mentally beating myself up for not being productive enough. Before I could further drown myself into such pessimistic ideas, I snap out of it and let my eyes cherish the view that lies ahead of me. Though I feel a little guilty for taking Vermeer's place, I can only whisper an apology with little to no sincerity. Because truly, nothing can beat the picturesque landscape of Luhua Pool— the crystal clear waters that would most probably reflect my face like a mirror if I were to ever look at it, the ruins that ignited the spark of curiosity within me, wondering about the pasts it holds and the stillness and feeling of peace it gives me as I sit in this cliff. Feeling somewhat a bit better, I place my things on top of the old bag I bring no matter where I go. There's always a better day for writing, I tell myself as a form of consolation, bringing my slim arms up to begin stretching. I've been sitting on this log for quite a long time now, after all.

"It seems like you are in a bit of a dilemma," a deep voice comments from behind me. Out of surprise, I lightly jump and turn my head towards the stranger. Right at that moment, it felt as if all the air circulating inside my body had been depleted. Captivating was an understatement as to how he appeared before me. With the sunlight striking his face and accenting his unique features further, he stood with his hands behind him, head tilted as he looked at me with interest, all while keeping his dignified posture.

"Oh, hello. I am afraid so, yes," I respond, or rather, mutter under my breath since I was not really used to having sudden encounters with other people, nor am I fond of it. I tend to keep to myself, finding it much more peaceful than having to tend to others' overbearing expectations and demands which is partly the reason why I chose to live in the outskirts, far from the center of Liyue that contrasts my comfortable abode, "I apologize. I failed to realize that somebody other than Vermeer liked to stay here," I told him, arching my eyebrows a little when he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Oh, you have no need for such formal apologies. I do not always go here, at least probably not as often as the man you call Vermeer. I was simply taking a walk and I think I got carried away by Liyue's view and eventually, my feet led me here," he explains, a hint of sheepishness present in his tone, "and I guess I'll have to thank my feet for that."

Because it led me to you, interesting one. For many years, it will remain unspoken, kept by the strange man to himself and unveiled once his heart gives up from the resistance he upholds.

For the following hours of lounging around Luhua Pool, I learned a lot about the stranger— he calls himself "Morax," and like the god of Liyue, he enjoyed history and is extremely knowledgeable about it, aspiring to know and understand everything of the world, he often brews tea, even going as far as inviting me once I am free from any form of work. Just as he shared facts about himself, I did too.

"So, Cheng, you said you have a bit of a dilemma?" he inquires, slightly angling his head towards the direction of the side I'm sitting on. I nod my head up and down, mouth forming into a small pout of disappointment as I remember that today has not been that progressive.

"Yes. I am trying to write a novel, you see. Something that will leave an impact on this world so that even if I may pass, I will still live on the memories of people," I tell him, an ambitious expression present on my face. He hums, eyes going over the terraces that make up the current view we have and the two huge statues standing by the ruins, "Why so?"

I pause for a moment to think of a reply, "I guess I just do not want to let someone alone in this cold world. Wouldn't that be too cruel and sad, to just leave them with nothing?"

If I'm able to write words that will provide comfort to my readers, then maybe... just maybe the world will be less lonely... even for just a little bit. At least, that's what I thought as silence consumed us, the sun setting as if to remind us that finally, another day is nearing its end. Now, what will tomorrow bring?

"Well then, I do hope I will be able to read at least some of your works at least once," he speaks as he stands up, lightly dusting away his clothes, "It certainly has been a pleasure to be your company, Cheng."

As he walks down the slope of the hill, his somewhat broad back facing me, I call out, "Will you be back?"

He stops and turns, a soft smile is plastered on his face as he responds, "Only time will tell."

But time was no friend of mine. At least that's what I have come to realize as many days passed without him returning to this place. Though maybe it's only because it almost felt as if time slowed down and I was only eager to see him again, something I have scolded myself to— what a fragile heart do I have to already seek a stranger's presence? That is what others call love at first sight, a devilish portion of my mind whispered cheekily within me and I gasped in disbelief, "Absolutely not," I lightly slap both of my cheeks, "I'm just too coped up in my own world. I probably need to go see more people."

That thought remains a simple yearning though because once again, I find myself lounging around the same spot in Luhua, a quiet hope ignited within me, fulfilled when I hear the familiar voice he adorns as he speaks, "You're here."

I release a sound that is between a giggle and a breathy chuckle, "And I see your feet had led you here once more?"

"They were curious, or should I say... I was," he explains as he takes a seat beside me, his posture remaining solid despite the uncomfortable position.

"Of what?" I ask.

"Of you," he simply replies, unaware of the sudden yet unsurprising effect it had on my heart that was already beating rapidly with just his mere presence. I try not to be so showy of it though, too embarrassed to even think of how fast I became fond of him.

But it was no wonder. After all, he himself was an interesting one; from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he's just him... all and every action hold so much dignity that it just leaves me almost breathless and in awe every single time my eyes finds their way to his figure— and to think that this was just our second meeting? My mother would most probably let out the most shameless giggle as I tell her these thoughts, pushing me and teasing me like a normal person in their teens would. I shake my head to get out of these thoughts, listening to Morax as he tells another wonderful tale, almost making me think that he lived it himself with how he knew it, going over even with the smallest details.

"You know, Morax, you have such a good memory to remember all of those things despite simply hearing about it," I suddenly speak up in the midst of the silence that engulfed us while he tries to think of the next story to tell, "I hope I can stay in them too... in your memories, I mean. I know I am far from being the most interesting person but for some reason, I wish for that."

He pauses, eyes trailing slowly towards me, beyond my knowledge, before he lets out a somber smile. You already are, is another one of him that becomes an afterthought.

I heaved out a sigh before shaking my head again, "Ah! Why do I keep having such lonely thoughts? Forget about that. Please do not mind me, alright? I think I really need to stop being stuck in the mountains."

I pick up my small bag and shuffle inside it, letting out a quiet sound of 'aha!' as a sort of celebration when I successfully got a small book out, "Here."

He blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what it was I handed to him so I spoke in delight, "You told me you wanted to read at least one of my works so, here. I am warning you though, it is not like the ones that sell best in the bookstores. It might bore you, or weird you out like what others say."

"What others say?"

"They say it's too unrealistic, too impossible... but I believe otherwise. We live in a world where gods and adepti watch over us. What makes my story impossible then?" I ponder, him still being confused.

"What is it about anyway?" He asks, having no idea of what the context my book had.

"It's about an archon who began living as a simple man in Liyue."

Our meetings became more frequent after that and eventually, we got comfortable with even just the presence of each other, having no need for long talks and such, but just peace. Today, like any other day, Morax was just reading the book I gave him, while I was thinking of what my next story would be about. Occasionally, he looks at me with an odd expression that is almost equivalent to astonishment, as if I have done something so great that it made him look at me that way.

"What made you think of this plot?" he asks all of a sudden, not forgetting to put a piece of paper that served as a bookmark on the page where he stopped just in case he accidentally closed it.

I hum, thinking about my answer to his question, "Hmm. Truth to be told, it was just a mere wonder for me. Archons and the adepti, although not entirely immortal, live so much longer than an average human does, watching over us as we go about our daily lives, waiting for sudden wars to break out and then fight the enemies that attack us. Growing up, those were the things that all the people around me told me. So I began to wonder, do they ever get tired? Is it not too taxing to keep on doing that? What if... they just lived with us, among the crowds? Because I think it is too lonely wherever they are. Would it not be better if they were with us, rather than above us, so they could at least have memories to live by?"

Morax does not give a response, or rather, he finds it difficult to find one. Still, it does not stop the affection that spreads within him. He does not say it out loud, but for someone who prefers to be alone, Cheng was full of empathy. And somehow, that did wonders to Morax's heart.

"Now that I think about it, I kind of actually want to address my books to them now," I hum once more, "It would be like a message for them: Do not be too lonely even if we pass. Because of your help, through these stories, we can show you that we lived a good life."

I huff as soon as I finish my sentence, "Although one of those who read it said that was impossible, because according to them, why would archons give up their power to live a life where there is only simplicity?"

Morax let out a sound that made it look as if he got offended himself, "Archons can do that, can they not?"

"I know! That was what I was saying to them. Anyway, I am not forcing them to like what I wrote. It's just a story, after all. It can do no harm," I shrug, beginning to fix my belongings as the sun began to set, "I should go now, Morax. It is still quite a long walk to my home."

"I want to live a good life too," he suddenly tells me, making me halt and turn to him in confusion, "With you. The good life and memories you shall tell in your stories, can I be part of them too?"

The universe does not stop for anyone, nor does time— science will consistently proclaim this fact matter what timeline we shall live in. No matter how much someone begs to the Celestia to grant their wish of controlling, or stopping time, no one will be able to do such things. But somehow, it seems like when it comes to him, everything is possible as I feel my world stop at his words, just like the way it also began when I met him. And as if planets were colliding with each other, I suddenly felt my heart crash upon him and as if out of instinct, I let go of the truth.

"Of course. It would be the greatest thing to have you."

Life was strange in its own way. That is what I have come to realize in this simple life of mine.

Despite the fact that the "me" of the previous year has never even thought about putting my whole being on my sleeve, it is pleasingly odd how right now, I find myself in this kind of situation with the man who swept me right under my feet and claimed my heart as his.

“You're cold," I whisper amidst the silence of the night in my abode, my index tracing the ears of the man who had me sitting right on his lap, the shorter strands of his silky hair tucked behind them. So, so alluring.

He takes hold of my wrist, planting a soft kiss on its side, all while maintaining eye contact as he quietly drawls, "Then I suppose you can keep me warm tonight. Will you?"

As if in a trance, I nod my head, letting him take the lead as he laid me down, back against the soft mattress, him following on top with his arms supporting his build. With arising confidence, I circle my arms around him and pull him down, bringing our lips together, a sigh of relief escaping both of our mouths as if to say, "Finally."

I wonder if he thinks the same way as I do— that this was Celestia in its own way. I felt like I could do anything as long as it was with him. The kiss felt like the power we once suppressed from each other became a supernova that changed our world's course all of a sudden. But despite the tension and heat we both emitted at the moment, there is a warmth that engulfs me the same time he fully wraps his arms around me.

I am here. I will always be here.

No noise disturbs the peace we have created, only the quiet sound of crickets reach our ears but even that fails to distract him from what he's doing. He gently tugs on the sash that keeps my coat tied. Nimble fingers explore the remains of my clothing, loosening all until I am set free from them.

His eyes raked over my body, an expression of awe plastered on his face for so long that it made me somewhat conscious. Because as he unravels his to me, I am enlightened by the fact that my figure is nothing worth comparing to his — not even close. A hint of sweat glints from his skin due to the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal. But who was I to complain?

So instead, I look down, fiddling a little with my fingers as I feel my cheeks heat up. How is it that I only realize now what kind of situation we are currently in? Before I further drown in such shameless thoughts, he lifts my head up by the chin, an amused look on his usually-gentle face, "Are you feeling shy, beloved?"

I meekly nodded, to which he lets out a soft laugh and whispers, "Don't be. You are the epitome of beauty itself. If you don't believe me, allow me to show you nothing but truth tonight, I swear under the moon and all these stars."

He dips down and captures my lips in a kiss once again with more passion, if it was still even possible.

"You are made for me, as I'm made for you," he proclaims as he thrusts inside me after minutes of preparation, soft pants and groans following his statements. I can only whimper in response, pain evident in my tone at first with my hands lightly clawing at his back. I pray to the heavens above that they don't leave awful marks after this.

He halts and utters an apology, thumb caressing the bone of my cheeks while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face after a few seconds, relief flashing in his eyes when I nod for him to continue.

"I... b..." I try to speak out but the pleasure overwrites any sensical thought that goes through my mind. He slows down a little, looking over my face and smiles, urging me to talk.

"Stay with me, beloved. We still have all night," he tells me, encouraging me to voice what has been on my mind.

"I... I belong to you, always have and always will..." I manage to croak out, voice quite hoarse due to the sounds that I let out previously. Perhaps pleased with what I have proclaimed, he begins going even deeper and at the same moment, I begin falling deeper.

"Yes, yes, you do," he repeats like a mantra, his voice sounding more and more desperate to reach his high. I cry out with him, creating a harmony that even the best bards shall be ashamed.

It was a long night— the longest yet most beautiful night I have ever had in this simple life of mine. And in that moment, as we reach the stars together, I knew right there and then that this man is someone who will be etched in my heart for as long as I live, deep into its roots— for him, it shall beat and it shall love.

You, who are reading this, most probably have had enough of these teeth-rotting praises I kept on writing. But what can I do except to apologize? These words are the only ones that can flow out of my mind and mouth to show how magnificent it was to be loved by him.

Well, nothing significant really changed. He was still the same gentleman I met, if anything, more gentle. Just like in the beginning, he made my heart flutter every chance he gets, no matter how many years have already passed.

We built a dynasty together.

But maybe I should have known that ours were also bound to crumble like the ones that have long existed even way before us.

Days, months and years went on, I realized that he was actually the opposite of me— unlike me who was clearly not parallel with time, he held it right on the palms of his hand. I was not blind, nor was I a fool, I can clearly see how he looks like he has not aged a day, all while I was here, maturing more and more each second that passed by, the amount of signs of me aging increasing significantly.

Morax. Knowledgeable of history as if he lived it himself. Time. All these thoughts eventually congest my mind as realization dawns upon me. He was not merely a man named after the god himself— Morax was him, he was Morax.

"How appalling," I mutter with a hint of sadness and dismay in my tone. I stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering over my face, wrinkles appearing as I scrunch it. A pair of firm arms snake its way around my lean waist, chin resting on one of my shoulders as he hums his words, "What has got your beautiful mind occupied, my beloved?"

Taking hold of his arms, I turn my body around to face him, a somewhat melancholic smile etched on my face as I look up at his much taller frame, "You are a sight to behold, even to this day." He arches one eyebrow out of amusement and curiosity, wondering why I suddenly started pouring him compliments. After all, my shyness prevents me from consistently doing so. Nonetheless, I continue speaking, "I wish... I could be with you even when everything changes into a whole new world."

I lifted a hand up to cup his cheeks and began rubbing it lovingly, a lone tear finally dropping from my eye as soon as I closed it, "but I cannot, I do not have the ability to do so... I am but a mere mortal, after all."

His eyes widen as he finally discerns my actions and concerns, immediately opening his mouth in hopes of consoling me but I beat him into speaking, "It's alright, Morax. I have been putting the pieces together for a while now. I am in no way angry. I just..." I pause, gulping hard before my lips start to quiver, "... I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. And now... I think about it and I... I do not want to leave you alone again."

My cries eventually start becoming louder, something that is very new to the both of us, seeing as I have always been composed. Love can change a person into a whole new being. I remember a book I have read once and at the moment, I can only agree. Maybe it was the way my heart clenches at the mere thought of him walking alone, or the way I can imagine us taking our last breaths together yet I know that will never happen— but either way, it was painful.

He whispers sweet nothings to my ears, placing light kisses on my temple as he leads us to the bedroom to rest once my tears have finally ceased and I have calmed down. His hold on me gets tighter every time I let out a small hiccup due to crying, almost as if he was telling me that he was feeling the same pain as I was.

Hours pass by as we lay in silence. My tears have long dried up but we remain coped up in each other's arms.

"Would it not be interesting if you bear the name Zhongli?" I ask him in a somewhat croaky voice.

He peers down and tilts his head, "Now where did that thought come from?"

I shrug, or at least try to, and look up at the ceiling as we shift our positions to lay on our back, hands finding one another and intertwining, "Hmm... nowhere. Just a name I wanted to give you in case that you are needing a new one."

"Oh? How come it would be interesting then?"

I look at him with a comforting yet sad smile.

"Because it means it's time to leave, to go somewhere far away... and unfortunately, I will have to leave soon."

He furrowed his eyebrows together, "Do not say that. Who knows? Maybe you will be able to live a hundred years by my side. Besides, I think it sounds lonely. I do not think I would want to get reminded of the fact that you are not here with me."

I hum, "But if you bear the name I gave you, wouldn't it feel like I never went away? That no matter where your feet take you, no matter how far you go, I am and will always be with you, just as I have vowed."

The wooden door leading to my writing room slowly slides open and Morax's head peers in, an adorable smile plastered on his face, "You have been quite busy these days, beloved. I do not wish to disturb you but I am starting to long for your presence."

I let out a shameless giggle, "Alright, alright. Just let me write down a few more words while I still have ideas to input."

He peeks on the parchment paper out of curiosity, taken aback when he finds his name on it, "You are writing about us?"

I nod proudly, "My last piece."

"... But why?"

I smile and approach him, taking his hand and placing my forehead against his after he lowers his head down to my level, "I told you, did I not? I do not wish to leave the person I love with nothing. So that you will not be lonely, my words will be with you. I will be with you, always..."

"... and to tell the gods... to tell you, that I loved every second of my life with you— that it was, indeed, a good life."

"Who are you, young man? Are you my son?" I speak with a very hoarse voice, squinting my eyes at the figure in front of me, as if my poor vision will allow me to do that.

I hear a melancholic yet gentle sigh come from him before he takes my rough hands and looks afar, "Don't mind me. I'm just someone who vowed to be with you for as long as time lets us."

"Oh.... really? That’s quite endearing," I hum, "Well, may I know your name?"

"This… I think I may just have an idea to whom this book is for," Paimon trails off, looking over at the traveler who was in the same trance as her, "Paimon thinks we should let the strange person we saw a while ago give this directly to Zhongli!"

Lumine nods, turning around and starting to run towards the direction they were at previously, recalling the person named Cheng who gave them the novel they just finished reading. They were unique, dressed in layers of robes and it was almost as if they lived in the old times of Liyue. Even the way they talked and moved screamed ancient.

Just as they turned the corner, a woman near the Liuli Pavilion called them over, "Traveler! Here!" As they approach, Lumine cranes her neck to look around the area but to no avail, the strange person was long gone.

"Are you two alright?" the woman asks, much to their confusion, "I saw you talking to literal air awhile ago and I was worried you have eaten something strange."

The pair looks at each other in surprise before Paimon replies, "You didn't see anyone? Like a person dressed in the strangest attire? They dressed really anciently!"

The door of the Liuli Pavilion opens and there goes Zhongli, a calm expression morphing to an awkward one when he realizes he barged into an ongoing conversation. He apologizes for the disturbance and despite the curiosity he had upon overhearing bits of Paimon's statements, he starts his walk back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. At least not until he hears Paimon call his name, "Zhongli! Wait! A person named Cheng. Do you know them?"

He abruptly stops and turns to the two, eyes wide for a second before it returns to his usual demeanor, "How... how do you know of them?"

"We met them," Paimon says, as if it was the simplest thing to do, "Well, honestly, we don't know because we were apparently speaking to nothing but air! It's so odd!"

He stays still, honestly having no idea of what response he should give them because he himself found it hard to believe.

"Well anyway, they asked us to give you this nov— wait, where is it? It was just in your hands a while ago, Traveler!"

In the midst of the loud chaos made by the two in the middle of Liyue, he thinks he knows what to do and where to go now.

It was the day of the Rite of Parting, an event where he's supposed to be taking part of, even just a part of the audience. But he finds himself hanging around the Wanwen Bookhouse, eyes scanning the shelves until it stops at a familiar name engraved on the cover of a book.

"Oh! Greetings, Mr. Zhongli! I see you took a liking to a very great and romantic novel," Jifang comments as she sees the book in his hands.

He looks at her, "Is it really great?"

She gasps in delight, "Yes, indeed! Almost all of the Liyue folks have enjoyed this story! You can say it is a classic, especially for readers! Cheng definitely outdid themselves with this one! Such a mysterious person yet equally amazing. Imagine? Being able to make such a beautiful love story with Morax? They don’t mention the present name they gave Morax though, such a shame. Maybe it was due to old age, they wrote it until the last moments of their life after all. Anyway, I have to get back to work but enjoy reading that masterpiece!"

He feels his heart swell in pride upon knowing his lover had his wish come true. His nimble fingers carefully open the pages of the book and hours later, as he sat inside the Funeral Parlor after taking the novel home, he finds himself absorbing each and every word Cheng have written, the loneliness sitting idly inside him subsiding little by little.

I found solace in the countless cups of tea you brew whenever I encounter distress with my works, the endless stories you tell with a smile so beautiful that not even the most heavenly scenery can vanquish, but most of them all, the feeling of your hand intertwining with mine, providing me with serenity no one else has ever done before. Under the moonlit night of Liyue, I remember your wistful amber eyes, staring deep into my soul as you proclaim your love and desire for me. How foolish was it of me to think that I could live this life without even experiencing such warmth and intimacy?

It is a banality, really — how I wish to become a well-known writer with unique tales and yet the story I am telling is something so common to folks that they have most probably heard similar ones before. But I guess this is what it means to love and to be loved. Everything is like a cycle that just keeps on being repeated, yet we never get tired of it, of the feelings it brings. So, thank you, Morax. Words will never be sufficient to show how grateful I am to you for showing me a whole new world but I suppose this is still a way for me to give back to you.

With this little book of mine, I hope my heart reaches yours regardless of how many eras may have passed before and after us. So, my beloved, do not be too lonely without me. Even if you find yourself longing for my presence, just open this and my heart shall be with you.

This belongs to you, it always will.

And I do, as well.