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All right you horndogs I'll let you come up with your own making-Zhongli-cry prompts or chat with you about it.

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[Zhongli tries not to get caught, but they're so close together right out the gates, because he was absolutely ready to help this young man with whatever bauble he may have been tricked into buying--]

Azhdaha--

[into the pokeball he goes. how's that instant recognition?]

[Really satisfying tbqh!!

So, Zhongli is trapped in that void. It's not... actually that terrible. Cold and lonely, but not painful. Not torturous, except for the silence. But it's hard to perceive time, so when he's released with a feeling like waking from a long sleep, it may have been days, or it may have been weeks. Who knows!

He's let out into a cave, but not one he's seen before in his ever-so-vivid memories. It's small, dark and rough, and the walls pulse with the potent corrupted geo of a elemental being more ancient and primal and malicious than anything that yet remains living in this world. It's more powerful than Azhdaha was even back in their best days, because he no longer cares what karma he brings upon himself, or what harm he brings to those who dwell in these mountains.

The cave has a single opening -- one blocked by a transparent seal, that looks out into a bigger, broader underground network, sculpted and shaped into some semblance of a dwelling -- a dwelling for a dragon, anyway. It's not exactly refined for these human forms just yet. But what may matter more to Zhongli is that he has been rendered utterly, completely powerless. Nothing more than an ageless regular human being.

There's also the glowy geo chains he's been shackled and bound to the cave walls with but like, they're only really fancy handcuffs basically so it's not that bad, right? Right??? It's definitely fine and Azhdaha is definitely not standing outside the seal and looking at him like detested prey.]

And here we are. This look suits you.

...Azhdaha. I see you have eroded once more.

[he doesn't bother testing his bindings. he can feel the powerlessness of his body. instead he stands as primly as he can, bound as he is, and looks at Azhdaha with profound sadness.]

I'm not denying it.

[he is so much more lucid this time?? but like, also completely fucking gone to the hate dimension so lucidity isn't helping]

But I don't care. All I can think about is you, Morax--

[and there, for the briefest moment, his voice cracks slightly, and there's the tiniest flash of something melancholy in his eyes]

--and how best to make you suffer.

[Zhongli has always been perceptive. And that moment of weakness, however slight... he notices that. But he keeps his notice close to his chest, for now.]

...You may come to regret it, you know.

No. I'm not as disoriented as the last time we met. I remember... that I loved you fiercely. But now, my hatred is even greater than those old feelings you abandoned in the dark. I'll grind you to dust, and even if I forget everything, I'll remember the look on your face when you break.

[He lifts a hand, and the black mist of his corrupted power rises from the floor of Zhongli's cave and up along his chains. It seeps into his skin aggressively, corruption forced into him in a way that must be excruciating. It won't kill him, and it won't directly warp his mind, but Zhongli can feel the heat of his old friend's hate as if it's searing him inside and out.]

--!

[Zhongli doesn't make a sound, keeps his face as impassive as he can, but every line of his body speaks of pain as he tenses. It hurts, physically and emotionally, and he can ignore neither.]

You can keep a stoic face all you want, Morax. You'll have plenty of time to reflect on your betrayal.

[Because that pain is not going away, but Azhdaha is! After all, the worst of his own suffering was the waiting alone with it. So with a quick gesture, the seal on the little cave goes opaque and the cave is sunk into pitch black darkness.

It's cold -- not a pleasant cool but the clammy chill of deep dark places. There's no light, no sense of time, and any sound Zhongli might make is quickly absorbed by the silence.

He's left there, like that, for who knows how long. A week? A year? A century? It's impossible to tell, but it will feel eternal, with the pain of that resentment crushing him.

But of course he's being watched, and he'll be addressed again... eventually. Until then, though, Zhongli is being abandoned!]

[It's not long (or is it?) before Zhongli breaks enough to make sounds. Not loud ones. He's never been a loud man, except maybe in the throes of pleasure, but in agony he lets out soft, lonely sobs. He isn't going so far as to beg forgiveness yet, but the weight of Azhdaha's feelings are definitely getting to him.]

[The timeframe is a mystery! But after awhile, the lights do come back on. Now, the cave outside has been much more intricately shaped! It's a proper place for a king, with items obtained somehow from outside.

Azhdaha has kept this human form, St least in that its the same face as it was. He's definitely been fat dragon plenty too.]

Are you beginning to understand your position?

[The lights reveal his tears, in ways that the darkness couldn't. He looks graceful even in suffering, but it's clear he's suffering.

He turns his exhausted gaze to Azhdaha, still unbearably sad, and much more open about it.]

It's hardly a complicated one.

[Somewhere very deep inside, the sight of those tears makes his heart clench. But that tiny little protest is washed away by the flood of sick enjoyment, and doesn't show.]

On the surface it's not. But I'm not going to make it this simple for you. You will have not even the slightest crumb of mercy, save this one: Would you like to make a contract, Morax? For the life of that termite nest you call a home.

...What are your terms?

You wil submit yourself to my judgement, without resistance, until I'm satisfied. In exchange, your city will not be crushed under a mountain. I won't protect those insects, but neither will I seek to harm them, for so long as you remain at my feet.

...We have a contract, Azhdaha.

Good. The terms are settled.

[And the look on his face makes it crystal clear that he knows exactly how awful it is to use contracts against Zhongli in this way -- no matter how terrible, now that they've made one, it's set in stone. He wins. Zhongli will never leave without permission, even should the doors be thrown wide open for him. Even if someone came to rescue him.

A contract is a chain much heavier than the stone ones he's already been put in. But those will stay, too, as a constant physical reminder.

Azhdaha steps through the sealed barrier with ease, reaching out to roughly grab Zhongli's chin in his large hand and examine the tearful look on his face.]

How long do you think you'll have to endure me, to make up for nearly two millennia of betrayal? Ten thousand years? Twenty? I wonder what will be left of you by then.

[Zhongli won't quite make eye contact, though he doesn't at all resist. He cannot. Azhdaha is fully correct, about how very much under his thumb Zhongli is now.]

That would be your choice, would it not?

That's true. At least you get that much.

[He lets go of Zhongli's face, only to wrap a hand around his throat instead.]

Now, let's see what you look like when I take you apart.

[starting with punching him in the gut -- and causing a spike of stone to go right through him when he does.

It's fine. He won't die. He's a god!]

[An ex-god, thank you. But it's true that he won't die so easily.

The hand around his throat keeps him from doubling over, which means Azhdaha gets to see the blood trickle from Zhongli's lips, gets to see his agonized expression. There's a beat of stoic silence, before he remembers to obey the spirit of the contract rather than simply the letter, and lets a wet, pained noise.]

Much better.

[With that, he drops him! If Zhongli doesn't fall fast enough he'll kick his legs out from under him, and then stomp brutally on that wound.]

But this doesn't even scratch the surface of what you deserve.

[he doesn't crumple fast enough, but the kick and stomp is effective, leaving him wheezing wetly on the stone floor.]

You have- more than enough time, to scratch the surface...

So I do. Get up.

[He knows it'll be hard, but that's the point. So long as Zhongli can, physically, get up, he's not been beaten down enough for today. Of course.]

[it's hard. but he's always been stubborn, and he's giving this his best, as per their contract. staying down would not give azhdaha the satisfaction he's been promised.

so he's spitting up blood on the ground, but pushing himself up.]

Good.

[He watches, impassive, as Zhongli drags himself to his feet.

As soon as he's up, Azhdaha strikes him in the chest, hard enough to slam him back against the wall at bone-cracking force.]

Again.

[He's prepared to do this til Zhongli can't follow the order anymore. It's fun.]

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