Here is the first follow up to my Venti piece! For all of you who are curious, yes this is a mini series. I’m planning on writing a little bit for it every day as a warm up to my larger fics so expect more :D (which means I’ll be adding more to it everyday in my doc, not that I’m doing daily updates because… that’s more than I can handle lol). Please make sure to read my sidebar so you know what to expect from this blog. Also, these existential awareness posts will be mostly sfw in nature but I DO write nsfw and cannot promise that everything I write in this vein will be free of horny thoughts. I will tag accordingly for the post as well as in the masterlists. Tagging: @song-of-broken-pines
Self Aware Genshin Characters Masterlist
Warnings: Fourth Wall Breaks, Yandere
It was Guizhong, of course, who clued him in to your existence. At first he gets the impression that she worships a deity older than herself- a mentor to her in the same way she had been a mentor, of sorts, to him. When she sits a newly ascended Zhongli down and explains her beliefs about the world of Teyvat existing for your entertainment, he can’t help but find her delirious.
What is there to smile about? That’s the most painful and depressing thing he’s just about heard, and he’s literally a god of war.
Zhongli struggles with this revelation at first, unwilling to believe that he won his battles because some unknown being desires him to have done so.
The two of them remain at odds about it for many years, although their close bond endures despite. He does not see why she accepts your existence so easily- why she’s happy to have all of her hard work and perseverance written off as someone else’s whimsy.
Meeting Venti frustrates him as well, creating a small rift between the two of them. He could see in the airheaded bard’s eyes that he accepts your influence upon their world.
The anemo archon even seemed thankful to you. Like you hadn’t scripted the very misery and anguish he’d been forced to endure.
Zhongli is honestly baffled by all of this. It doesn’t make sense. Why should anyone be happy about this?
This goes on for thousands of years, him trying to do what he can to ignore that dreadful knowledge. He fights threats to Liyue. Sculpts mountains. Carves karsts and jeweled cliffs.
Then the day comes that Guizhong scatters. He holds her, bloody and breaking, and- smiling. At ease and peaceful with her fate. Accepting of her fate.
Zhongli can’t help but be overcome with frustration with her, even though he knows he shouldn’t- not now. But how could she be alright with this? Her creator, her writer, was tossing her aside. Tossing all of them aside- thousands upon thousands of lives.
Wasn’t it Guizhong who had taught him the value of a mortal’s life? Of all lives? What love could she have for a being who crushed more souls in a day than the god of war could in a year?
She tells him she doesn’t want to fight. Not today of all days. Maybe it’s hard to accept that he was always meant to win those battles. Maybe it hard to accept he was always meant to feel heartbreak and that burdensome grief. But she can’t help asking if he’s not happy to have known her and all of those whose paths he’s crossed until now.
What a gift, she tells him, to have been born for the purpose of meeting others. What a blessing it is to be given a heart with which to care so deeply and recklessly.
What a beautiful world to be written with so much love
What a marvelous god, to be so enamored with love as to make it the heart of their entertainment.
It’s only then that he breaks. It’s only then that the grit is polished away and he finally understands the blessing of your existence.
Guizhong is dead and gone, but she had meaning. Her existence hadn’t been for naught.
Even if he and her and everyone he cared for was to be eroded with time- they had meant something. This world would not be what it was if not for them. The bedrock of the world was each and every single person who had won his affection.
You had given them meaning. All of them. Even if it was just as background actors upon some great stage play you were watching. They were not lights flickering out in a void of existential nihilism.
What a blessing to have been born in a world built upon love.
What a blessing to have been born for someone.
Zhongli spends thousands of years becoming more attentive of the people of Liyue. Learning their names and customs. Memorizing their bloodlines and dreams. After all, you had given him this place as archon, the least he could do was get to know those who he was to preside over.
As he spends more time walking among his people, he gains a stronger appreciation for his place in the story that’s been set for him. You take so much away, but you give as well. He could not deny that there’s a grief that comes with losing those who were and continued to be beloved. Azhdaha. Guizhong. Sky Bracer. Countless others.
But, oh, what kindness it was to have been given the capacity for love. For loyalty. For honor. What a beautiful world to be written with so many splendid people to love and be loved by.
Zhongli develops a set of customs and rules for your existence. After all, it’s only proper to give thanks to one’s creator. Especially when blessed with so much fortune. He knows you do not reside within Celestia, but he hopes that when he lights lanterns that they may reach you. It’s actually due to a mortal accidentally stumbling upon this little ritual of his that the Lantern Rites begins.
He can’t bring himself to be upset when the mortals mistake the prayers he sends aloft to you as wishes and thanks. Not when they soon light the sky with hundreds of glimmering lanterns, turning the harbor into a sea of glowing lights. It’s beautiful. He hopes that wherever you are, that the sight of so many thriving people brings joy to your heart.
He hopes you know that he’s doing his best.
It comes as a rude awakening, a painful shock, when the bard waltzes into his harbor, sits across from him at the pavilion, and looks him in the eyes with the gaze of that very being he’s been praying to for the last thousands of years.
His throat feels dry as he speaks, his words sounding dull and hoarse- as if they had been scripted and he was only an actor. Zhongli can’t take his eyes off of Venti, off of you, barely acknowledging Childe as he addresses him.
When the meeting is over and the bard flutters off, shimmering with your effulgent being, he stumbles from the pavilion. His hands shake as he presses one to his mouth. His heart races with shock and disbelief as well a horrible, virulent-
Resentment.
It sits, bitter in his mouth as he makes his way back to his abode. His thoughts crash like a shower of stones in his mind.
Why had you reveled yourself to Venti before him? Was he not good enough? Had his prayers been lacking? Had he not shown devotion to his people? To you?
Or- was it that you were upset with his decision to cast off his role as protector and ruler of Liyue? Did you need him to continue? Surely not- why would you be playing at discovering the reason for his ‘death’ if you were?
So he settles on taking his time wandering around the edges. Zhongli is nothing if not patient. For a time, he assists you and whoever it is you have decided to grace with your guidance for the day.
It comes as another surprise to him when he realizes how… new your existence is. He catches you looking through the bard’s eyes with wonder over the wide breadth of Liyue. As if you had not been the very one to pull earth and ocean into form. A suspicion begins to form as he observes the way you interact with his country.
Maybe you hadn’t created this world.
Maybe it had been created for you.
Zhongli knows that you know who he is. That you know what he is capable of and what he has done. You look at him through a dozen different eyes but each set pierces into the very core of him.
You know him.
You always have.
He was yours, after all. He had been created for you, after all.
When Zhongli finally puts himself into your hands, it feels more right than he had ever imagined. Like he was placed where he had always been meant to be. Your presence flows through him like starlight and he can feel the press of your intentions when you move his body to your whim.
It’s breathtaking.
Unlike Venti, who enjoys messing with you from time to time, Zhongli likes to put himself wholly in your control. He finds it inappropriate when some of the others, like the bard, test your control for their own amusement- or due to a flawed sense of rebellion.
When his god tells him to move, he moves. When his god tells him to bleed, he offers up his spear and bows his head.
Of course, he doesn’t have that same belief in obedience as it relates to his previous rule over the people of Liyue. He doesn’t usually approve of double standards, but for you he’ll make an exception.
Zhongli takes great pride in his place on your team. To be so close to his god is an honor that he does not take lightly. However, even he cannot help the bite of curiosity. The hunger to be even nearer to the sole reason he had been born.
It starts off innocuous enough. The Lantern Rite begins and he can’t help but deliver a lantern directly to you this time. Why would he need to send a lantern into the sky when his god was at his side?
You think it’s a super cute in game bonus of sorts at first. A themed gift from one of your favorite characters! Awesome!
But the contents are a little… worrying. Uncomfortable. The tone is sweet enough but something about it sends a shiver up your spine and you can’t help but feel like Zhongli’s character model stares directly at you for a second whenever you encounter him in game or use him afterwards.
That being said, he’s startled when you take the time to care for him. You read over his voicelines/story and he can feel your sympathy for him like a pang in the chest. When you take him to the top of Mt. Aocang and take note of the table where he had once sat with Guizhong and Sky bracer, he feels your sadness beside his own.
It’s… unnerving for him at first. Getting used to you as you are instead of as what he’s projected you to be. Given his age, he’s had a lot of time to muse about his world and the purpose for which it was crafted. There is no one who has lived with this existential knowledge for as long as him, save for Venti. And, well, he’s not in much agreement with Venti’s takes.
The bard had spent eons talking about how it didn’t matter that there was a being above them that had crafted and could pilot them. He openly spoke of there being freedom in the lack of matter. He found joy in what he perceived to be the vastness of their shared reality.
Zhongli relied upon the bedrock of meaning. He did not find any comfort or relief in the belief that their fates were untethered and occasionally steered. He rooted his belief in your benevolence. In your kindness. The world had been filled with grief and loss and bloodshed, yes, but it also overflowed with beauty. Kindness. Love. Loyalty. Because of you.
He had found meaning in the radical euphoria of shared work and one’s desire to give back what they they taken. He looked into the faces of of the people who had made his long life sweet and seen his god.
He’d seen you.
Despite the occasional odd thing he does, mostly unique voicelines that sound almost as if he’s musing to himself- almost-, Zhongli doesn’t really register as a strange character the way your other companions might. He doesn’t take control from you the way Venti does when you equip him with a harp. He doesn’t address you directly the way Fishl does- or demand your attention like Childe.
It is his belief that there is a proper way to interact with one’s god and he is loathe to step out of line.
In contrast to some of the others, he comes across as almost…normal. But don’t be fooled, he’s patient and had a long time to devolve into a cult like devotion to you. After completing his final contract, he only wishes to walk amongst his people and be used by you. When he’s not at your order, he enjoys wandering the city and doing his job.
He’s patient and he doesn’t push you much, if at all. Zhongli knows you need him. Knows that, even weakened as he is, his skill set is unparalleled in its utility. When you take the time to raise him back to a shadow of his former power, he’s filled with pride.
He just wants to prove himself as a capable and devoted follower to his god. A proper and trustworthy devotee, deserving of your praise and notice.
You are, after the reason for this world’s existence. You are the reason for love. You are the reason for kindness. You are the reason for friendship.
You are the meaning behind everything and everyone.
The view from Mt. Aocang is always lovely. For thousands of years, he had watched the sunset from upon that jagged peak, and it still did not fail to take his breath away. Eyes upon the opalescent horizon, he speaks absent mindedly, the words often on his lips as he finds himself lost in thoughts.
“…but where are those who share the memory?”
But this time is different. This time you’re wrapped around his heart like an embracing mist. Your thoughts lying gentle upon his as he tethers himself to you. The turn of your mood comes as a surprise. There’s a distinct difference between the two of you, your differing thoughts and feelings not melding together but gently mingling. Not a single chimeric creature, but as if two beings embracing. He still struggles beneath the weight of your emotions upon his. Not because he finds them overbearing. They’re just- strange. Alien. Almost like those of the mortals he had spent a lifetime guiding and protecting. Maybe even like his. He had not expected you to be so similar. So capable of the same range of emotions.
But of course you are. Why would he be capable of such feelings if his god, too, could not experience them?
Apprehension prickles Zhongli’s spine as you move him closer to the table, now partially submerged in the small pond. He’s unsure of what you want when you seat him in place. The warm press of your existence shifts and he feels as if you are looking directly at his face. It is as if you- he smiles in realization. As if you are trying to seat yourself across from him at the small table. Keeping him company where those who once did no longer could. Your emotions flicker like stars inside of him.
Sympathy. Sadness. Compassion.
Zhongli wishes he had the audacity to speak to you- but the words never fail to die in his throat. They sit on his tongue like venom and settle like smoke. He has the utmost respect for the propriety with which he must act around you. And yet- he cannot help but envy the ease with which some of the others bend the rules. Or in some cases, openly break them.
But now, especially, he wishes that he could say something so that you knew the words were for you.
He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay. He’s okay.
You’re here now.
He’s alright.
In the face of such a kind god, unlike what he had expected, it’s hard for the former archon to find the words to describe how he feels. It’s harder still for him to break through the shroud that keeps the two of you worlds apart even as you inhabit his form.
He had expected a stern and all knowing god. A practiced ruler who would lord over the world they had created and wished to watch. You were neither. Every sunset upon the harbor seemed to bring joy to your heart. Standing within the boughs of the tree that marked Azhdaha’s grave filled him with your wonder. And if you breathed alike, he felt such a way that he believed the Lantern Rite had taken your breath away with its beauty.
When you had revealed yourself before him, kind and caring and strong, he had felt a fool. How could he have ever thought himself worthy of knowing you before now? He had made himself a jester for thinking that he could know you then the way he knows you now. His god had filled the world with so much beauty, of course they too were beautiful.
So he lets the bile rise in his throat. Lets his tongue sizzle and burn in his mouth as he musters his willpower.
Zhongli was a god of war. Zhongli was a god of geo. Zhongli was of the seven, and among them, the oldest.
Zhongli is millenia. He is rock and earth and prosperity. He is the diamond mountain.
And so he bends the curtain to pull himself closer to his god, his savior, his meaning- because even if it feels like sacrilege, even if it tastes of blasphemy, he cannot bear the burden of being the cause of your sadness. He would take your rage over your tears.
Zhongli breathes in and the universe holds its breath. Zhongli opens his mouth and the universe bends to his will. Zhongli speaks and, breaking through space and time and the laws of many worlds at once- reaches his god.
“Nothing would honor me more than to share osmanthus wine and create new memories together with you.”
