i dont wanna love you anymore.

the lights were off and the curtain blinds drawn, light barely flickering through the gaps. you can’t remember the last time you had properly had a meal, or showered, or gotten out of the all too big bed.

 you’ve laid there, for what felt like a century, curled into yourself with a blanket haphazardly thrown on top of you. your stomach growls as it begs you to feast on something — anything, and yet you remain unmoved, mind running too fast for you to catch up to. 

your wish to remain undisturbed gets interrupted as the sound of a ring echoes in the air, a call from someone that you’ve been ignoring whilst you drown yourself in sorrow.

then it stops.

then again.

a ring. then again, and again it rings, and rings, and rings, until you let out a small groan.

your arms felt weak, like they were unwilling to work with you as you slowly pushed yourself from your bed where you laid for the past few days, but you continued. swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, your hand searches for the phone you have left abandoned whilst you were in your sorrows — somehow it wasn’t dead, barely hanging by with a measly 7% left in it’s wake. 

gojo

the call reads. 

gojo sataru.

your best friend. his best friend. 

you had forgotten, you weren’t the only one who had lost him that day. satoru was there, he had lost his best friend too.

and not just him either — ieiri, yaga, nanami and all of those who had ever befriended him — those who loved him, they all lost him the same way that you had that day.

maybe you should’ve been more careful, been more observant. then perhaps you would’ve been able to catch him while he was spiralling, pulling him out of that void that desperately tried to swallow him.

suguru.

your sweet, sweet suguru.

the boy that always greeted you in the mornings with a smile and a coffee (with plenty of cream and sugar to drown out the bitterness) in hand.  

the boy that would always walk next to you with his hand on the small of your back, fingers curling into your side in a soft grip, reminding you of his comforting presence as you walked through the streets. 

the one who’d always cup your cheeks in his calloused hands that were scarred from the battles he’d fought. who’d always chew on mint gum and put your favorite cherry chapstick on before he kisses you, afraid that you could taste all those disgusting curses that he’d swallowed up from the missions he was sent on. 

suguru, who looked at you with stars in his eyes, like you were the sun that shone in his endless, dark void. like you were the being who had breathed life into him.

suguru, whom you’ve failed to save. whom you’ve left alone, allowing the darkness that sprouted in his head to continue growing until it swallowed him whole.

suguru, whom you’ve loved with your all — heart, body, and soul. 

“y/n?” a voice speaks through the phone, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. “you there?”

your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. your throat felt raw, from all the crying you’ve done made it seem impossible to make a sound and yet, you tried.

“yea-yeah?” you croaked, “i’m here.”

though faint, you could hear satoru release a small shaking sigh, his voice heavy, and filled with grieve. 

“i…” there was a small pause, “i just saw…him.”  

you freeze.

him.

suguru.

your suguru.

“i found him in one of the streets at shibuya,” he continues, his voice cracking every so often, reminding you that his departure was one that affected so, so many people. “i confronted him about leaving.”

“he–”

“what,” you interrupted, trying to fight off your tears, taking a deep breath trying to ground yourself from breaking down again before continuing. “what use is there, talking to him again when he’s left us?”

you can hear satoru take a sharp breath, perhaps not expecting you to react like this. maybe he’d thought you’d stay quiet and listen to him talk about suguru or maybe you’d break down into tears at the thought of seeing him one more time, but certainly not this reaction.

“he left us,” your voice breaks again, but you refuse to stop. “he left the jujutsu society, left it all behind. he left you, he left ieiri, he left us!”

as you spoke, you couldn’t help but begin to raise your voice, emotions taking over you. tears begin to cloud your vision as you let out a faint whisper.

“he left me.”

the air stilled, the silence grew loud.

satoru’s breath stilled, and the tears in your eyes fell. 

nothing comes from satoru’s side of the phone, perhaps he hadn’t known what to say. 

he’d know what suguru had meant to you of course, he was there through it all. from when the two of you had just met, to when you’d both shy away from each other, to the two of you showing way too much pda for what he’d thought was normal — he’d seen it all.

of course, he had, the four of you were inseparable. 

suguru and you were the responsible ones, satoru was the one who’d always cause trouble, and ieiri is the one who’d always watch everything go down — that’s how it always was.

how it was supposed to continue. 

“i…” satoru begins, “i know you don’t want to talk about it right now, it’s probably way to soon to talk about him like this, but…”

he pauses, contemplating whether he should continue or not, but he bites the inside of his cheek and continues.

“he said he loves you,” you take a small, quick breath. “and that he’s…”

slowly, his voice becomes a shaky whisper, a tone that you’ve never heard from the eccentric man, most likely coming from the fact that he knows what suguru’s departure had done to you and refusing to hand you a second blow — but he continues.

“sorry.” 

sorry.

sorry?

sorry for what? 

sorry for killing all of those non sorcerers? sorry for quitting the jujutsu society? sorry for ignoring all of you guys? 

sorry for leaving you behind?

the noises drown out, you can still hear satoru talking about his meeting with suguru in a rush, perhaps trying to distract you from your spiraling thoughts, but you just can’t help yourself.

how could he? 

how could he just leave you behind like this? like you were just baggage that was tying him down in this cursed society, to this cursed duty. 

he’d known that if he had told you, you’d leave everything behind for him.

at some point, the call with satoru ends — he’d said something about needing to go to yaga to report his meeting or something, but you hadn’t paid him any attention. 

a loud thump echoes in the air, your hand dropping your phone to the ground.

silence, has never felt so lonely.

your eyes travel to the small details in the room. 

the drawer that the two of you picked out together, the poster of your favorite movie that he’s got you for your  birthday, the picture frame that held the photo of the four of you smiling together — everything was just a painful reminder of who you’ve lost.

it wasn’t that he was dead, no, suguru was a powerful sorcerer, it would take much more than a grade 1 mission to kill him.

no, suguru wasn’t dead.

but the man you loved was.

the man that suguru once was.

suguru, who had left you without a word. 

who had once held your hand in his with gentle care, who had kissed away the tears you shed.

he’s left you behind along with the jujutsu society. left you with the rest of your friends, the teachers, the staff of the school.

you don’t know what had happened, but perhaps you should’ve seen something — done something, then perhaps he’d still be with you all now.

you’ve lost him.

not to death’s waiting hands, not to a vengeful curse user, not to one of those wretched curses.

but to his spiralling ideology and his rage.

the man he once was, is now gone — dead.

and the man that had replaced him wearing his face had left you.

and he took all the pieces of you with him.

a fiery red burns with passion. it’s bright and bold, always standing out from a crowd. it was a color that was made to make the person wearing it shine. like how his hair and eyes were always drawing people’s attention. 

a soft red, or some might know it as pink, carries gentle feelings — feelings, like love and “home”. it was a color that made kyojuro think about you. you whom he loves with every atom in his body.

red has always reminded kyojuro of you. 

you, who is forever always so lovely and shone ever so beautifully in his eyes. you, who engraved her every existence into the deepest parts of his very soul. you, who always whispers sweet nothings into his ears after a long day of work, telling him how much you’ve missed him and how proud you were of him and his accomplishments. you, who always burned with passion and kindness, like a flame that refuses to die down in the rain. you were home to kyojuro in every sense of the way, from your sweet, sweet words to your lingering kisses,  you were always so perfect in kyojuro’s eyes.

kyojuro had always loved the color red on you.

it was a color that was crafted to perfectly suit you. from the way it compliments your features to the way it made you shine brighter than anyone else around. red was a color that suited you like nothing else.

kyojuro loved the color red.

red, that reminded kyojuro of the time he brought you to a field of roses, where you smiled like a child and let out laughter coming from the deepest parts of your heart. where you kissed him and he was able to taste your favorite strawberry lip balm. where you stuck a rose behind his ear, thanking him for bringing you here while he sat and stared at you as the sun hit your back making you look like an angel that was sent from the heavens above to take him away (and he’d let you).

red, that reminded him of the time he proposed to you with a ring that was encrusted with a red gem similar to the color of his eyes on it. it reminds him of the way your eyes turned into a soft red as tears gathered in your eyes, as your soft pink lips start to tremble and a small gasp leaves you. the way you ignored the expensive jewelry and threw yourself onto him while he was on his knees, where you knocked the both of you over, sending both of you to the ground, the way your warm tears flowed out of your eyes and lands on his face, your soft, gentle lips leaves kissed all over his face. starting from his eyes, then to his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, his chin, then finally, his lips. it reminds him of the way you replied to his question with a breathless yes after a breathtaking kiss. 

red, that reminds kyojuro of the carefully handcrafted wedding dress that the two of you were choosing. how it fitted around you like a second layer of skin. how the colors brought out your features and made them shine. it reminded him of how excited you were to pick out the dress that you were to wear in a few weeks time, how you would spend hours upon hours choosing between two shades of red (that he couldn’t tell the difference of), then decided to try them both on, only to pick a third option. it reminded him of you asking him for his opinion only to dismiss it as the only reply he could come up with was “you look beautiful in anything, my love” (which was true in his eyes).

kyojuro loved red.

red, that was the color of passion. the color that reminded kyojuro of himself so much. it was the color of the tips of his hair —  his hair that looked like the brightest of flames. it was also the color of his eyes. his eyes that always shone with pride and passion. eyes that you loved kissing and staring into. eyes, that you loved complimenting, always comparing them to the sun. 

“they’re the most beautiful pair of eyes i’ve ever seen. they remind me of the sun, kyojuro. they always shine so bright, even in the darkest times. they remind me of hope, of longing, your eyes give me strength, my love. you are the sun in my life, my light.” 

kyojuro once loved the color red.

red, that was the color meaning of danger, a color that was bright like a warning to those who sees it. red that meant anger and violence. it was a color that he sees often when he is sent out on missions. from red ornaments thrown around a house to red clothing scattered and in tatters, red was never a good sign. if anything, red always meant something was wrong.

red, that was the color of blood. a color that kyojuro often see while doing his job. it was a color that often stained his sword and clothing, making it hard to wash out. it was a color that kyojuro often hoped to never find while searching for a demon for if it was evident, it never meant good for the people that was once near the area. 

red was a color that kyojuro dislike while working.

red, that was the only thing that he could see. red that burns in his eyes, as his breath grows heavier and heavier and his world begins to move slower and slower. his eyes felt as if they were burning and he cannot feel anything. in the far distance, he could make out muffled voices and sounds of swords clashing, but he couldn’t move.

red, like the blood that came out from the multiple wounds that the demon sustained. the wounds that kyojuro himself tortuously carved into the demon’s body. red, that stained his clothing, his uniform and the haori that you painstaking made for him. he remembers every word you’ve said as clear as day, “here, my love, a gift from me.” you’d then help him put it on, layer it comfortably on top of his demon slayer uniform “i hope this haori can protect you, whether that’s warding the demons away from you or to protect you from the rain, i hope this haori can remind you of me”. kyojuro can only continue his attacks towards the demon, each swing of the blade planned carefully to never hurt the demon to much to the point of killing it. kyojuro wanted it to suffer.

red, like the color that sprouted from your body, staining the otherwise spotless white dress that you were adorning. you were on the ground, turned over, your stomach on the ground with your back facing him. you were unmoving as he closed his distance, his steps getting heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer.

from where he was standing, he could see you as you laid on the floor, your body unmoving as he called out to you.

“y/n?” he’d call out ever so softly, as if he was afraid you’d wake. “i’m back, my love.”

as he crouched down, and laid his hands on your shoulder, he could feel his breath leaving his body. you were so, so cold. he turned you over and—

all he could see was red.

red. 

red. 

red.

red, like the color that stained your white dress.

red, that dripped from your arm as kyojuro picked you up from the ground, that stained the floor of your shared home, that made the mansion smell like rust and metal.

red, that was the color of the flowers outside of his home, the roses, the poppies, the chrysanthemums, and the spider lilies. the color that dripped from your lips onto the white lilies that were planted closest to the porch, tinting them forever.

red, that dripped onto kyojuro, that still had some lingering warmth. 

red, that tinted kyojuro’s lips as he kissed you ever so carefully, from your closed eyes to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, your neck, then carefully, he kissed your lips. they were bright shades of red, like the lipstick that was gifted to you from mitsuri but rarely used since you didn’t think it looked good on you. your lips no longer tasted like the strawberry lip balm that you loved using, but instead tasted of rust and metal, a taste that kyojuro knows he will never be able to forget.

red, like the gem on the ring that was left on your  finger, that was stained with your blood. the gem shines against the moonlight as kyojuro could do nothing but hold you closer to him, cradling your head into his neck as he rocks the two of you back and forth, his eyes watering as he hums a tone you once loved. 

as the sun rises, kyojuro kisses your forehead again, then lifts your lifeless hand to his lips as he kisses the cold ring left on your finger, a promise to you for revenge. he closes his eyes as the first ray of light enters his eyes, the sun finally showing itself to kyojuro. 

tears finally fall, as he realizes that you are gone. that you’ve gone to the moon to join the stars and he was left in this world as your sun, to be damned to shine alone.

kyojuro kisses you one last time, as he could no longer contain his sobs of sadness.

kyojuro hates red.

there were no words to describe the feelings that nanami feels in his body right now. 

you are so, so beautiful. 

as he watches you walk down the aisle towards him, he feels as if everything around him has disappeared, all he could see was you. from the way your hair was done to how you look divine in that pristine dress as if it were made solely for you. 

his heart is beating so fast that he’s sure he might not even make it through the rest of the event. his hands are shaking from nervousness and wet from sweat. every step you took felt like cupid’s arrow shooting him in the heart over and over again, and everytime time he made eye contact with you felt like lightning shooting through his entire body.

you were everything that he’s ever wanted and more.

“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

by the time you arrive right in front of him, nanami is sure he’s no longer breathing. you looked like the epitome of an angel and he couldn’t believe he was gifted the opportunity to stand in front of you and declare his love for you. 

holding his hand out for you to take, he couldn’t help but tighten his hold on your hand. the heat radiating of from it reminds him that this was real.

that this was all, very, very real.

he was getting married. to you.

“so i’m gonna love you like it’s the last night, like it’s the last night.”

he felt like crying. 

being able to hold onto you like this and stare into those eyes of yours that he loves so much. he’s sure his heart is beating loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, but he couldn’t care less. 

not when you stare at him as if he was the most precious person in the entire universe. not when you wrap your warm, comforting hands around his. not when the biggest, sweetest smile blossoms on your face as your eyes slowly turn red.

nothing else mattered. 

nothing, other then you.

“if the world was ending, i wanna be next to you. if the party was over, and our time on earth was through. i wanna hold you, just for a while.  and die with a smile. if the world was ending, i wanna be next, to you.”

In the antique window of the cottage, sat the master of Mondstadt’s wine industry himself, reading a newspaper and drinking some homemade dandelion tea. Not far from the redhead sat his wife, sewing up one of his damaged coats that had torn from one of his battles as the Dark Knight Hero.

Nevertheless, the couple quietly enjoyed each other’s company as they had their respective cups of tea beside them. A vase of cecilias and windwheel asters were placed on the table between which Diluc and lover sat. 

Now you may be wondering, ‘how did someone as serious and grumpy as Diluc manage to get married? Especially to someone as sweet and gorgeous as his wife?’ Well, it’s a simple question really. They met in this very field. Where their love grew like the flowers  they planted together.

6 years before: the sun gently shined down on Diluc’s fair skin, the sky sparsely filled with fluffy white clouds and the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the man’s red hair. Diluc had decided to take the day to go on a walk around Mondstadt, specifically in nearby open fields that sat close to Dorman Port. Diluc had been in the area to attend some previous business from the day before. His work at the winery and as the Dark Knight Hero was causing him a lot of stress and he really needed a break.

When Diluc arrived, he was astonished by how pristine and verdant the land was. Cecilia flowers scattered around the vibrant forest green fields while a feminine figure sat in the middle, drawing away in a sketchbook as she sat on a white and red polka dot blanket.

The closer he got, the more details he could see of her. Her skin glowed under the sun's gaze. Her simple white dress was sewn with patterns of beautiful cecilia flowers, her hair styled to compliment her dress perfectly while a simple flower crown made of cecilia's had laid on her head. The temperature was perfectly warm, the cool breeze keeping the temperature comfortable to work and travel in.

Soon he stood behind her, not daring to touch the blanket where she sat or utter a single word to her, feeling increasingly more nervous the longer he was near her. He could hear an amused giggle escaping her soft lips as she continued to sketch what seemed to be a traditional Mondstadt dress concept design, notes beside her sketch book detailing the important information that needed to be included.

“I know you're there, you don’t have to stay so silent. It’s just the two of us here, ya know.”

She teased with an amused tone. Diluc did not speak, how could he when in the presence of someone with such beauty and kindness radiating from their soul. She couldn’t help but to continue to giggle at his current silence and shy reaction.

“Why don’t you come and sit down with me, sir. I’ve got plenty of room for another person to sit. Besides, I could use the extra company.”

He remained silent, but regardless, he sat down beside the lady. Keeping his distance and holding his tongue to avoid any conflict or troublesome interactions. The two introverts did not speak much to each other while they sat together. Diluc could only watch how the blowing wind affected the nature around them or glancing over occasionally at the woman’s work silently. 

The quiet atmosphere around them was peaceful and comfortable. This one time unique chance meet ended up turning into a once a month meet up where they would quietly sit together in the same field. Either working on their respective tasks  or cloud gazing with each other quietly under the gentle shining sun. The two were only 19 at the time this first started, but soon their love for each other would grow.

After a few meetups, Diluc would come more frequently as they’re friendship progressed. The month apart would turn into every two weeks then that would turn into a once week meetup. Everytime, Diluc would be greeted with a gentle smile and excited expression from the woman he had learned to grow to love. He learned that her name was (name) and that she was a seamstress from Dorman Port. She inherited this field from her grandparents, so she would come here every day to enjoy the verdant surroundings while also taking care of the land in return.

The more they saw each other, the closer they felt on both a physical and emotional level. She understood him in ways that he didn’t know was possible. More than his father or his brother or even himself. The two of them could feel the attraction between them blossoming into something deeper. 

Eventually, Diluc asked (name) on a date which was excitedly accepted by her. They ended up having a picnic in the field, chatting and getting to know the other person better. They laughed, they smiled and ended the date with cloud gazing, holding each other’s hand and giggling like young children again, despite being 20 years old now. 

The couple had gone on many more dates over a stretch of a year. Whether it was being on walks around the forest near the cecilia field, planting some windwheel aster seeds and helping them grow nice and strong, or heading into the main city or the Port to do a bit of shopping together. 

Anyone that had a functioning brain could tell how strong the love they had for each other was. They were each other’s soulmates and the other half of themselves. They loved each other so much that Diluc made sure to propose to his lover with the prettiest ring he could find. As soon as she saw the ring, she immediately started to bawl her eyes out and cried out her joyful acceptance.

They ended up married the next year and started working on their small but cozy stone cottage in their flower field. The couple’s hope was to use the area as a venue for their small wedding  and later use it as a family cottage home.

4 years after getting married, they were now expecting their first child in about seven months time. Diluc chuckled at the memories of their younger days together. Soon getting up to give his wife and mother of his children, a gentle kiss on the lips and on her growing belly too before leaving the house to grab more wood for their fireplace. 

This field of cecilia and asters is where their love grew and continues to grow; where they first met, where they shared their first kiss, where they got engaged, where they got married and now where they will be starting their family together.

though it was the time of war where blood was spilled and cries were heard. your love and admiration for the man have never dimmed once. 

the memories of meeting him for the first time burned in your head. how, even though his face was stoney and his voice was cold, his eyes were those of the kindest you’ve seen. his golden irises shining ever so brightly was something you could not miss.

he was never too close to you. always choosing to stand farther away from you whenever your group of adepti and gods and goddesses were enjoying time together. he spoke little words and yet his actions spoke thousands. instead of entertaining you with useless chatter, he chooses to quietly help you plant fields of chrysanthemums for the thousands of unfortunate souls that have died in this war of the gods for the throne. 

although he was a stoney man, he was kind and gentle. 

you could never find yourself asking to spend more time with him, for you had not want to be selfish. you had only ever hoped that you were one of the only people he would treat like this. 

kind, gentle, careful.

and you were. 

that is, until she came along.

guizhong was a lovely women, that you could not deny. unlike you who was shy and careful on the first meeting, she was cheerful and not afraid to exchange greetings with everyone. she was something that you had only wished you could be. she was lovely, you were not. she was wise, and you were smart, she was talented, and all you could do was grow flowers. she was everything you have always wanted to be and more.

you could understand why zhongli would fall in love with such a women. you would too, if you were in his shoes. in this time where red was painted everywhere and the most common sound was that of a grieving mother, guizhong’s existence was that of the sun. 

she built weapons to aid zhongli in battle, built mechanics that could rival cloud retainer’s, and made melodies that you have only ever thought streetward rambler could make. she was the epitome of a perfect goddess — and you were simply just a shadow of her.

you could build weapons, but they were never good enough to use in a real battle. you’ve made decent melodies that was pleasing to hear, but nothing on streetward rambler’s level, and you could never even dream of building any mechanics without somehow hurting yourself in the process.

you felt useless being here. in an area where everyone had a purpose and was able to aid in the battle, the only thing that you could do was grow herbs for when someone needed them for medicine. no matter how much you wanted to help more, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be more in the way then be actual aid.

so you stood by. 

you stood by as days passed and the gentle gaze zhongli held for you moved onto guizhong. you stood and watched as gentle touches and gestures were exchanged, and small smiles shared. you stood by as the man you had love so wholly with your entire being moved onto loving another.

though, the truth was, he was never yours in the first place.

so you stayed away. you strayed from the group silently, not wanting to disturb the small peace that guizhong was able to bring to the group. you had wanted to keep your emotions in check, knowing that it would do no good when thousands were dying each and everyday. but it had hurt.

it had hurt everytime as you watched quiet conversations being exchanged between zhongli and guizhong with small smiles. 

it had hurt when everyone — cloud retainer, streetward rambler, mountain shaper, moon carver, and all of the other adepti teased and joked about the two. 

it had hurt, when you knew it was true.

so when one day as guizhong asked you to accompany her on a short walk, you agreed. you don’t know why you agreed, to be honest. it hurts already knowing you’ll never be as good of a goddess as she is and that the man you loved was in love with her. but there was this lingering sense of dread that dwells within you when the request left guizhong’s mouth.

so here you were, walking alongside guizhong as the two of you tread along the field of flowers you had grown just days before. the sun shone bright against your skin, and the gentle winds caresses the grass and flowers softly, making them brush against your ankles. it was a good day, one that felt too good to be true in this era of blood, sweat, and tears.

“so, y/n…” guizhong started the conversation, her voice startling you out of your focus on the nature around you. “how do you feel about zhongli?” 

not knowing what she meant by this question, you took a second to answer. “zhongli…” you started, not knowing what to say in this situation. although you were heartbroken at your failed love before it had even started, but that did not mean you wished for anything to happen in guizhong and zhongli’s relationship. “he’s a kind man.”

guizhong raised an eyebrow at that response. “a kind man?” she questions, “but is he not the most violent and deadly among us gods and goddesses?” 

“that may be true.” you bit your lip subtly, thinking about the time when his gentle gaze was directed to you. “but that does not mean he is not kind.”

“how so?”

“his eyes.” you answered without even thinking, your feet stopping you next to a small, lone wilted flower. “eyes, like how mortals often told, are the window to the soul.” 

you glaze your fingers against the near-dead petal, “though he is a stony man whose voice and face is as hard as stone, his eyes and actions were — are always kind.”

slowly, a soft yellow glow surrounds the wilted flower, the once crestfallen flower was once again brimming with life. 

“zhongli, though is a god of stone and war, he is also a kind and loving being.” you turn your gaze from the flower to guizhong, “you are lucky to have such a lover.”

guizhong’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her eyes brimming with puzzlement. “lovers? whatever do you mean-”

suddenly, an arrow tears through the air and lands on the ground behind the two women. a sense of horror fills the two, knowing that if they hadn’t been lucky just now, they would have been dead. 

“ahh…what a shame i missed.” a deep, sinister voice calls out in front of them, a figure revealing themselves to be one of the smaller, lesser gods that had been unhappy with zhongli’s constant victories. “but i won’t miss the next time.”

out of nowhere, a more gods and goddesses surrounds the two women, starting them into battling positions. although both had been part of zhongli’s army, the two women had always only been there for support —  guizhong being the strategist while y/n was the healer, neither of the women was able to defeat the small group of gods and goddesses in front of them.

they knew, if they don’t do something soon, they would die here. 

both of them.

“hey.” the man who shot the arrow calls out. “you with the h/c hair.” he points his polearm at you. “you can run away, we are only here to kill the beloved of Morax.” he moves his polearm to point at guizhong. “run along now, while we’re still playing nice.”

unmoving from your position, you subtly angle your body so that it can cover more of guizhong's body, your hand behind you starting to glow a light yellow.

“guizhong.” your voice calls out, barely a whisper. “guizhong, you have to run.” 

“what?” guizhong whispers back to you, her shock evident in her voice. “i can’t just leave you here and run away by myself!”

“but you have to” you replied, “they are here to kill you. you need to run.” you begin to move even more to cover more of guizhong. “run and get back up for me. they’re here to kill you and i can stall. so run. run until you see someone and then bring them back. i’ll still be here, i promise.”

“you promise?” guizhong asks, knowing that this was the best possible thing that both of you can do, as there were simply too many smaller gods that surrounded you both.

“i promise.”

and so guizhong ran.

zhongli was never a man to panic. although he had been in many difficult positions, he had always been able to keep a clear head.

so how come when guizhong barged into the tent of his, shouting for help to save y/n, zhongli could feel his heart stop?

he wasted no time in grabbing his spear and making his way out of the tent and towards the direction guizhong pointed at, his legs glowing an amber color as his speed increased more and more, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ribcage. as his legs carried him towards where you were last seen, he couldn’t help be feel the impending doom linger over him. 

suddenly everything stops.

with everything in his power, zhongli throws his polearm at the small god that stood atop your laying body. crushing and killing him in an instant all the while forming a geo structure around your fallen body.

all zhongli could see was red. red, red, red, and more red. all the sounds were muffled, the screams, and pleads, and apologies falling on deaf ears as zhongli continues to slay and kill those who had dare harmed you.

it was only when guizhong shakes him from his trance that he was able to make out what he truly needed to do at the moment — to save you.

with a soft amber glow to his arms and legs, zhongli made the geo structure disappear all while running to your side. cradling you in his arms as gently as possible, zhongli pushes the blood stained hair away from your face.

you had been struck with multiple knives that remained stuck in your flesh, but the most damning of all was the large polearm that impaled itself in your torso, ripping through your stomach and out your back.

“y/n…?” zhongli calls out.

“zhong…li?” your voice was meek, hardly any sound was coming from you. your heart was beating too slow and much too quiet for zhongli’s liking. “is…is that you?”

zhongli hugs you closer to his warm body, his hand finding yours to hold. “yes, it’s me.”

“did…did guizhong make it? is she okay?” your eyes were hazy, one of them blind from a thrown knife, and the other seeing red as blood from your head dripped into your eye.  

“she’s fine, y/n. and you will be too” zhongli holds you even closer to him as he shifts around preparing to get up from the ground with you in his arms. 

“no.” your voice rings, the surroundings becoming much too silent for zhongli’s liking. “i won’t make it.” your voice weavers at the last word, your eyes becoming much too heavy to keep open. “it’s time for me to go.”

“no, i can — someone can, someone has to save you.” without knowing zhongli’s voice fills with panic.

“zhongli.” your gentle voice rings out against his chest, and he stops to look down at you. 

using the last of your remaining powers, your hands glowed once more a golden color that reminded zhongli of the sun. in your hand held a small osmanthus flower, brimming with life.

“a flower for you, my lord.” your lips pulled into a smile. “the osmanthus flower means faithfulness and true love, both of which i hold for you.” you tuck the flower behind his ears, something so delicate made his bloodied appearance look a little funny.

“i’m glad i’ve met and loved you in this life, even if i was never the one you’ve loved.”

with one last smile, your body begins to fade into small flowers. the part of you that was touching the ground spreads and creating a small patch of colorful, lively flowers, while the part of you that zhongli holds fades into a bunch of flowers. 

zhongli was a strong god. 

one so strong that he had never lost a battle. but this god, whom so many fear, now kneels on the ground, his forehead tickling the small flowers that bloomed in front of him, his arms by his side, hiding his face from those behind him.

zhongli doesn't cry. he never cries. 

not when he was bleeding out from his wounds that hurt so much he thought he was going to die. not when he was betrayed by those he treated like family. but now zhongli wanted nothing more then to scream and curse the world for taking you away from him.

his sun. his flower. his love.

you were wrong when you had told him that you were not the one he loved.

he had only ever loved one person.

and that, was you.

it was always, you.