#storylore

STEM swears he’s “unpredictable,” “non‑compliant,” “a threat to operations.” Funny how they never mention the part where he slipped through three STEM patrol grids and stole a bunch of stuff from STEM HQ on his way back to the Green Valley.

They’ve posted a ₡12,000 bounty. Kenny’s response was to laugh and keep running.

Old-fart storyteller

There’s something hauntingly beautiful about characters who don’t swing swords, cast spells, or command armies — the ones who simply watch the world and keep its memory alive. Bakarak is exactly that kind of soul.

He’s not a hero. Not a warrior. Not a chosen one.

He’s a wanderer with a notebook, drifting through Globiuz like a shadow, collecting the stories everyone else forgets.

He listens in taverns. He walks through ruins. He writes down the lives of ordinary people — the ones history usually erases.

And somehow, that makes him one of the most important figures in the entire world.

Because when kingdoms fall and legends fade, it’s the quiet historians who keep the truth from disappearing.

Bakarak feels like the patron saint of:

archivists

writers

wanderers

introverts

anyone who’s ever felt invisible but still wanted to leave something meaningful behind

He’s not shaping Globiuz with power — he’s shaping it with memory.

zhongli x gn!reader who is part of the liyue qixing and has an anemo vision. 

fluff, sfw, and domestic sweetness. (also posted on a03)

words: 1k

synposis: history is all too easily forgotten, and it is up to storytellers to tell the youth of liyue, but also sometimes, retired archons need reminders. 

“As the night takes its final bow, listen to the wind and how it sings to the sea.” A voice spoke softly, as their hands were placed carefully and comfortably in their lap, as they sat with their knees together and legs folded. Bright young eyes stared at them, as they watched their every move. They spoke with a soft voice, and gently smiled at the children gathered around the harbor. Their parents had let them run off for the night in harbor, knowing that they’d entrusted the Qixing, and their commander. The commander was a storyteller just as they were concerned with the matters of the milieth. 

The softness of the wind swirling through the crowds, as the commander told the youth of Liyue past stories of legends that their parents had already known. Their eyes sparkled just like the stars within the night, as they began their last story of the night. 

“The sea of blue flowers would always giggle and dance to the wind’s song. The wind would arrive everyday at sunrise and sunset to entertain these flowers. But of course, the mountains grew jealous of the wind. You see the mountains could not sing like the wind, and the mountains weren’t as carefree, but the mountains had deeply fallen in love with the flowers.” 

“But the wind represents bards, right? How could the mountains compete with it??” A young child shouted out, as the commander raised her hand to mouth before laughing softly. They smiled at the children, and adjusted their sitting position to continue. 

“Well you see the wind was always carefree. The wind did not have a place to call home, as it would always wander everywhere, but stuck in the same cycle. The wind wanted to win the flowers’ admiration to grant a blessing of freedom, something both the mountains and the wind wanted.” They explained, as the child widened their eyes and exclaimed. 

Just as the child was about to speak once more, a figure stepped behind the storyteller, and pressed a finger to his lips. His golden eyes reminded the children of a tale the storyteller told earlier that night about how the archon of liyue still lives with us and as one of us. His long brown hair was tied in a ponytail, and his suit was neutral tones, with blacks and browns, complimenting the commander’s choice of attire. His hands were concealed with black gloves and rings adorning his thumbs. 

The commander pretended not to sense a new presence with the crowd, they continued with their story, this time, getting into the storyteller role. 

“You see children, the mountains were constant. The wind blew only when happiness and peace was at its peak and longed to be free to blow anytime and the flowers were able to grant that wish, and through song those flowers would bloom blessings, but the mountains did something, that no one would have expected. Not even the heavens.” “Or Lady Ningguang??” “Even her Tiansheng.” 

“As the mountains gathered up its friends, the adepti, our little friends I’ve told you about before, the mountains began to practice singing. The adepti were shocked at this, as Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper flapped their wings in shock. Moon Carver stomped his hooves in absolute astonment, and because of this beautiful sound that was produced. Even so that the wind was taken aback. You see the wind tell the mountains, “My, trying to steal my spot are you? Listen, I want the sea of flowers to grant me the blessing of freedom.” The wind exclaimed, as the mountains roared, “Well I’d like freedom too, but most importantly, I want them to release in my presence.”’ 

“To this, the flowers  interrupted, ‘Why do you fight? You two can produce a wonderful song together, then I will see if I will grant you the wishes.’ and so the two quickly stopped their fighting and began to sing.” The commander began to sing a tune that almost brought tears to his eyes, and the children to sleep. They took notice of their growing tired selfs as the parents came to collect them. 

“And so with this tune, the flowers granted the wind to blow whenever it wanted, and the mountains their love. The end.” 

The parents chuckled at their children smiling and waving bye sleepily. The commander waved bye to them, as they got to up greet the figure. They folded their arms, an anemo vision dangling at their hip. They raised their eyebrows, and tapped their fingers on their forearm. 

“Well you are quite the storyteller.” He chuckled, offering them his coat, as they smiled, and wrapped it around their shoulders. The seabreeze danced in between them, as the two began to stroll around Liyue. Despite it being late at night, lights were still on, but people had retired for the night. They sighed, listening to the wind softly, as they met eye contact. 

“I try to be, Mr. Zhongli. All too easily  history will be forgotten, and these children won’t have anything to pass down to theirs.” They explained, “And besides, you need reminders once in a while, don’t you?” They teased, bumping their shoulder into his. 

“Well yes, but I don’t technically recall my friend Barbatos caring too much about Guizhong.”  Zhongli explained, as the commander sighed. 

“It’s to keep the children engaged and to teach them about how glaze lilies respond to song.” They chuckled, their hands finding each other all too naturally. Zhongli stopped in his tracks to look at the commander who caught off guard. 

“But  you do tell a good story. I’m sure Guizhong would be glad to know, I finally settled for the wind after her passing. She always told me how the mountains and the wind were perfect together.” Zhongli explained, as he began to lean in. 

Promoting a story that never happened, that doesn't exist.

Consanguineous - Vampire siblings with the same sire. Not necessarily siblings in life, but their blood is joined by the same vampire parent. They have a fraction of a blood bond - knowing where the other is and their current status (alive, dead, long sleep)

Convocation - The vampire council that governs vampires. There is one major council in each region of the world. Calling meetings are nearly unheard of, and a Invocation means unfathomable change is coming. An Invocation has only happened twice or thrice in known vampiric history.

Invocation - A meeting of all Convocations across the world. This spells trouble.

Thrall - A mortal who has been put under a bond with a vampire. They are not mindless, nor do they loose their personality, but they are undyingly loyal to the vampire. They also obtain facets of a vampire's condition - immortality, an aversion to daylight, and on some occasions, they can manipulate the blood to allow them to use certain vampiric abilities.

Long Sleep - A period of time where either a vampire gets tired of the world, or is forced into it, where the vampire beds down, lost to their long dreams. This can be for a decade, a century, or a millennium. 

Antediluvian - Ancient vampires, assumed to be little more than myth. They are said to be the original vampires, monsters beyond understanding. Everything following is a strain of their blood.