#has it really been over a year since i've written for the first contract ??? Wtf???

[ddarker-dreams]

Be Still My Bleeding Heart.

Yan Zhongli x God Reader.

[The First Contract index]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance o'clock. Word count: 2k.

“I’ve heard you’ve been frequenting the Stone Gate.”

Zhongli’s way of speaking is best compared to a geode. Seemingly insignificant upon initial viewing, but once cracked open, you’ll find yourself enthralled by the contents within. There’s so much to dissect and digest. You’ve become fluent in his language throughout the centuries. It wasn’t always a necessary skill. He matured with each passing millennia, his mannerisms aging like a fine wine, though they became no easier to swallow.

Gone were the days of him using brute force to tackle his way through every challenge waiting before him. He’s patient with enough cunning to match.

You almost miss how simple it once was to get a read on your husband. It requires a great deal more effort now, a resource you’d prefer to expend anywhere else than on him.

“I have,” you don’t see the point in lying. “Do you take issue with the fact?”

“That remains to be seen.”

You’d sigh, but even that feels like you’d be giving him too much. You keep your lips pursed to rectify this. He could be so obstinate about the most trivial details. That element of himself has remained consistent since time immemorial. All you wanted was to take a pleasant stroll through Yuehai Pavilion before returning to your usual activities, yet it seems that’s asking for too much.

Zhongli was waiting when you ascended the steps, his hands folded behind his back, warm amber eyes rivaling the sunset in its intensity. They softened for a mere instant, whatever non-issue you were inevitably about to get reprimanded over temporarily slipping his mind. Sickeningly sweet affection poured forth like vaults of honey, suffocating you in thick layers. You weighed the merits of turning around and venturing elsewhere, then remembered this fabled ‘elsewhere’ doesn’t exist.

He might be testing mortal life, but that doesn’t make Liyue any less of his domain than it was when the Yakshas were greater in number and the adepti gathered for banquets at the Guili Assembly. He could follow you anywhere, you can’t control that. You can, however, control how bad of a mood he’ll be in when he finds you.

Presently, Zhongli places an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, the gesture that was meant to comfort you worse than the spears chaining Osial down to an abyssal depth.

“I hope this isn’t a consequence of us living amongst the people of the Harbor.”

In the same way you are attuned to him, Zhongli is an uncontested expert in all things concerning you. His fervor is born from ardor whereas yours stems from a place of self-preservation. There is no side of you he hasn’t seen, no angle he hasn’t committed to memory with the zeal of a religious fanatic. His seemingly infinite reservoir of knowledge frightens you. There are times when you wonder if he knows you better than you know yourself.

This is further evidence of the possibility.

“… What do you mean by that?”

Zhongli raises an eyebrow. “My heart, please, don’t play dense. We both know you’re anything but. Something’s been troubling you ever since we’ve taken up residence here. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy adjustment, but if this is proving too detrimental for your wellbeing, I’ll have to take appropriate measures.”

You place your hands on the railing in front of you, leaning forward ever so slightly. The wind catches in your hair, carrying the familiar scent of the ocean and dinner being cooked by households awaiting the return of their loved ones. The day draws to a close. You hear laughter, the sound of children playing; two boys struggling to keep up with a little girl who goads them on. This lively scene cannot be found atop Mt. Hulao or any other secluded area you’d be held prisoner in if he thinks it best.

“You take on everyone’s burdens,” Zhongli disregards the view in favor of examining your side profile. You know which one he finds more picturesque. “I adore and fear that trait of yours. I knew there’d be no avoiding it, as it’s embedded in your nature, but I didn’t anticipate you getting this attached.”

“You’re exaggerating the severity of things.”

“Am I?” There’s a slight challenge in his voice you can’t bring yourself to match. “I heard you requested Xiao’s assistance in finding a little girl’s lost doll. An expedition that took multiple days of our Conqueror of Demons’ time.”

“Children are Liyue’s future — I’m doing my part to ensure their happiness.”

“Last week, I found you lecturing a gentleman who voiced dislike of Xinyan’s music. It took you an hour for you to notice my presence. Another hour to let him leave.”

“It was a civil discussion, not a lecture. I left room for him to interject if he had anything worthwhile to say. It isn’t my fault he became tongue-tied when his brutish behavior was confronted.”

“You recently asked me to reshape a mountain range so that Qiqi would have easier passage on her herb-collecting journeys.”

“Are you not the one who once promised me you’d ‘shift the sun’s placement in the sky’ if I ever found it unsatisfactory?”

Zhongli coughs into his gloved hand to hide his embarrassment. “I… was young then. My prose reflects that.”

“2,500 hardly qualifies as young, old man.”

“It does for beings like us. Now,” he seems eager to move on from the subject, “The examples I listed are the mildest. You’re spreading yourself thin, concerning yourself with matters beyond your control. I’ve seen what it did to you in the past. As your husband, I must ensure that doesn’t happen again.”

There’s something else at play here, yet you’ll leave that detail to be uncovered later.

“If I’m understanding this correctly, you’re criticizing me for caring about the people who you spent centuries shedding blood — yours and others — over.”

You don’t bother hiding the bitterness on your tongue. He’s worse than a thorn in your side, he’s a knife, jabbed in so deep that pulling it out is no longer an option. You have to live with the blade’s intrusion and adjust accordingly to the pain. It’s obvious to you that he’s been stewing on this for a while, the trips to the Stone Gate must’ve been the final nail in the coffin. You’ll both argue circles around each other until the heart of the issue is addressed.

The specifics of the contract you signed many, many years ago stipulate you may not leave Liyue’s borders unless a particular list of requirements is met. It isn’t like Zhongli is actively looking to punish you — he said so many times himself — which is why he becomes extra stifling when he thinks you’re pushing your limits. Or his limits, to be precise. The God of Contracts takes these matters very seriously.

Eventually finding you can’t take the silence any longer, you come right out and say it. “It’s true that I can get a bit too… involved when it comes to helping mortals. I see the solution right in front of me and wish those involved could see it too. That’s why I was seeking out a fellow god who is better at handling these situations with the appropriate nuance.”

His face gives away nothing when he speaks. The same cannot be said for the low timbre his voice takes on.

“And what god other than myself might my dearest spouse be seeking the audience of?”

“Barbatos,” you reply without hesitation. Something cold runs through the air between you. “He’s lived amongst mortals for so long. I might have some issues with his carefree temperament, but he knows how to guide others in that human form of his. Perhaps ‘guide’ isn’t the right word. He offers just enough for them to reach the solutions themselves. I want to learn from him.”

In a split second, his diamond-shaped pupils thin into slits, reminiscent of his draconic form. It’s gone in the time it takes you to blink. He sighs, his gaze finally breaking off from you. You feel his hand settle on the small of your back in what can only be described as a possessive gesture. Zhongli rarely touched you in public for the sake of social decency. This revelation must’ve been enough for him to discard the propriety he associates himself with in the current era.

You can tell he’s thinking and you let him. While he chews on the truth, your eyelashes flutter shut, blocking out the sensory stimuli you normally adore. Memories come and go like the ocean’s waves brushing up against the shoreline of your beloved Yaoguang Shoal. Had things gone differently, you’re confident you would’ve learned the lessons you’re currently seeking out on your own. The centuries you were forced to spend separated from mortals, incapable of answering their many desperate prayers, built an intimidating wall.

You’d either need to scale it or tear it down in its entirety — you’re not going to let your husband add to its height.

“He’s a whimsical spirit, so our paths never managed to cross,” you look up at the stony countenance of Zhongli, who weighs your every word on an internal scale. Judgment could be in your future dependingly. “I’ll stop making my trips there. You have my word.”

“You can continue to do so as long as I am present,” his earrings catch the dimming sunray’s when he turns his head in your direction. “I’m not the unreasonable man you try to make me out to be, [First]. Let this be proof of that.”

No, he’s probably worse. Hiding his domineering tendencies beneath a thin veneer of amicability. You keep the thought to yourself. You’ve already pushed him far today by admitting what you did. Limits were meant to be teased, not breached. No one knows this like you do.

“I accept the terms of this contract.”

Seemingly content with this, he nods, his hand detaching from you while he does so. The vortex of tension surrounding you dissipates in an instant. You could relax your posture, but you don’t, a frown working its way onto your face. Encountering Venti by chance really would’ve been ideal, even if it was a long shot. Understanding the hearts of others was one thing, granting them the same vision is another.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Zhongli muses. It’s a tactic he loves utilizing. Giving vague statements or suggestions so you have no choice but to ask for him to elaborate. An intelligent tactic from a conniving god.

You take the bait, uncaring of how his hook will sink into your flesh.

“Hm?”

“Taking on everyone’s burdens,” he clarifies. “Whatever should I do with you?”

You make a face. He really could do anything he wanted to you — the gap in your divine power is that sizable. It’s by his mercy and self-proclaimed “love” alone that he puts up with your near-constant ambivalence. Not wanting to linger on this uncomfortable topic, you turn on your heels, preparing to descend the steps and return to Liyue Harbor’s heart. If you’re fortunate, maybe he’ll get distracted and start a conversation on architecture or preferably anything else.

This turned out to be a stroll you wish you didn’t take.

“Treat me to dinner, preferably. I made a balm for some burns Xiangling recently sustained. I’ll give it to her while we’re in the area.”

It doesn’t take much effort for him to catch up to you with those absurdly long legs of his.

“Ah. Well, it’s a date then.”

Zhongli observes with silent amusement how you scrunch your nose up yet don’t voice your dissent. You flutter around from person to person, inquiring after so and so’s health, or if a sibling safely made it to Inazuma, dutifully recording the knowledge for later use. Your husband knows how you dislike your association with The God of Love title the mortals mistakenly assigned to you many moons ago — still, he can’t help but find it fitting.

How could he not notice that you overflow with love for anyone who isn’t him?

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