#morax x f!reader

[moraxsthrone]

i'm about to start crying over zhongli's forked tongue...

you can feel the tips of it as he swirls it around your pert clit, teasing and tickling; a low chuckle vibrating against you when your legs shudder on either side of his head. his amber-tipped hair is twisted in your white-knuckled fingers as his pink, forked muscle whips around your tiny hard-on. like two little wispy tongues, the fleshy prongs lap and nudge at your clit, sliding under your hood to wrap around your pretty throbbing bud so he can properly milk your next orgasm into his waiting mouth.

...heavily inspired by @zhxngii

[iratempestatis]

did someone ask for... XIAO REQUESTS??

*manifests in a purple glowy glittery cloud from a magic circle on the floor*

I have been summoned.

What about a scenario where Xiao is trying to get a gift for his s/o? have him not only maybe trying to craft something, maybe he wants the gift to be so perfect he goes around Liyue and the harbor to find the best wrappings, the best ribbons and the best snacks to go along with his gift?

Xiao SOOOO needs more fics these days 😩

"For You."

Xiao x gn!reader, 4k words.

Just a bunch of fluff, Xiao might be a liiiitle bit ooc but I tried my best <3. I had way too much writing this lmao, it's vv self indulgent. It did diverge a teensy bit from how exactly you wanted, anon, but I hope you still like it <3 Feel free to send more Xiao asks!

Xiao remembers the first time he got you a present.

It was nothing, really. You mentioned needing violetgrass to finish a commission one day. It'd made Xiao wonder why exactly an adventurer would need a medicinal herb in such large quantities, but he hadn't known you for long, so he didn't bother to figure out why.

You didn't talk to him much back then- only really knowing him because you were forced (yes, you!) to cohabitate with him while you found a residence in the harbor.

You were impetuous- not of faith and certainly not respectful, and it irked you massively when he'd step away whenever you greeted him, or silently turn his back on you and vanish. He didn't quite know how to articulate why without venting his frustrations to a stranger, so he never did.

He remembers you being violently sick during the colder months and still stubbornly trying to yank your bags out of a friend's arms, furiously sniffing and telling them you needed to do this.

Xiao knew for a fact you were diligent with your commissions- you liked Mora and you liked being comfortable. It couldn't be rent. He couldn't help but puzzle about it for hours, tucked away in the soft, cool damp trees on Wuwang hill until your shriek broke him out of his reverie.

After abruptly appearing before you (and scaring you more than half to death), as well as many hours of hunting the elusive herb made even more elusive by the chill, you had a nice basketful by evening.

“I wanted two,” he remembers you saying ruefully. He can't remember what you wore or even what you'd sounded like. Or if that was even what you'd said. But he remembers knowing you needed two basketfuls somehow, and you only had one, and your eyelids weighed down by disappointment, and the press of your lips.

He remembers putting a second basket in your balcony by dawn, and he remembers feeling a sudden rush of fondness when he found out you did it unexpectedly for a sick Baizhu, without his knowledge, expecting no fee. He remembers talking to you more when you lunged out of the shadows at Wangshu inn, to grab his arm and beam and thank him. He remembers the first time he touched you on his own- fingers gingerly reaching forward to pluck a piece of thread off your face. He remembers you disappearing for months on a long mission, only to return home and run straight into his arms, your newest glider fluttering on your back. Right there in his arms. He doesn't remember breathing. He remembers the way your fingers felt when they brushed against his in that moment, for the very first time. He remembers you asking if you could hug him, “just for a moment please,” and he remembers scoffing in surprise, then quickly saying yes.

But for the love of- god? Which god? He was a god and he didn't love himself too much. Morax? For the love of Morax, then, why couldn't he remember the things you liked?

He remembers everything you like and nothing all at once. Books? You have them. Brushes? Clothes? Would you even wear what he bought you? What if it wasn't your style? What if- maybe a bag? No, you never used bags you didn't buy. Something about the quality of the fabric. A handbag? Would you use it often? Probably not. Another glider? A glider made of his feathers, perhaps? Dear god no, that would be. Alarming. Snacks? You'd eat them. They're an addition, not the present itself. Furniture? A body pillow? You mentioned wanting a Ningguang body pillow. What the fuck is a body pillow?

He bites back the urge to throw his almond tofu at the wall. A gift for someone so precious must be one of equal value– but really, what could compare to your smiles, or the way you veered into him on walks, or the way you’d stumble to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Or your adorably frustrated expression when your cooking turned out not quite right? Every minute spent with you was spent carefully watching, memorising. He couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting even the smallest details.

He remembers his first gift to you- a silver hairpin, laden with heavy flowers of jade and quartz that chinked against one another at the slightest movement. He remembers the the way your eyes widened when you unwrapped it.

It frustrated him.

You were pleased with all his presents- you never seemed to prefer one over the other. The amulet he brought to protect you? With you in a pouch on every commission. The hairpin? You wore it on special occasions. The crystalflies he caught you on a whim were kept in a pretty glass container on your bedside table. You kept the flowers he brought you for months until even their potpourri turned to dust. What did you like better?

He swears by the skies he’s never been more frustrated- or desperate.

Your birthday draws closer by the minute and he’s determined to be the first to give you a present, even if it means… talking to people.

✦—————————————✦

He wishes Verr Goldet would stop looking so… Astonished. He knows he should be working! He’ll get to it right after he acquires your present… which would be?

“Perhaps- perhaps perfume?” she suggests, finally regaining composure. “They mentioned being fond of perfumes, although they usually don’t quite use it. Also…” She hesitates, then shakes her head with a smile. “It is good to see you home.”

He’s startled- he can’t help being so, not when she’s giving him such a sincere smile (that he unknowingly softly returns.) Strange mortal. Thanking her, he leaps off the balcony rails, unfurling wings of teal and gold. Perfume. Not the most inspired gift, but perhaps he’d come across something at the harbour?

✦—————————————✦

He does, unfortunately, come across something at the harbour. It’s an annoying little something (endearing on the days he feels more patient), slightly tall, vaguely maniacal. In a fun way.

Hu Tao has dragged him across every stupid stall on the northern side of the harbour. They’ve seen all sorts of absurd fish (even ones he thought were long extinct, good for them- or perhaps not, since they were soon to be a meal), clothes, china, children’s toys (he’s pretty sure you’d like the fat finch carving actually, so he gets it) and… perfume?

Hu Tao beams as she gestures to the man lounging in a corner of the harbour, asleep with an arm thrown over his wares. The wares happen to be several exquisite (regrettably empty) bottles.

He blinks. “Where is the perfume?”

“Huh? You want me to get you that, too?” A fly lands on her face and she swats it away. “I don’t really know where to get one you’d like. What sort of smells do you like? Can you even smell? I thought birds couldn’t smell?”

He sighs at the cascade of questions. “Some can’t, some ca- you digress.”

“Fine, but listen- aren’t the bottles so pretty?” She reaches for one and he’s forced to admit they are. The one in her hand is fashioned to mimic a gently sloped, round rock, with qingxin flowers acting as the lid. A bit unorthodox, but charming. “You can put whatever you want inside! Plus you told me you wanted a bottle of perfume, not a bottle with perfume-“

Well.

✦—————————————✦

That’s two gifts and neither is as he wants, nor perhaps as you’d want. He thinks back to the gifts you’ve given him- so intricate, so thoughtful. The best gift is still you, though, and the time he spends with you is enough to wash away years of anguish. When you fall asleep in his arms, the tension within him comes undone. This world has never treated him well, but its one benefaction was the vision hanging at your hip. He can’t help but trace it gently with his fingers, running his hands up and down your waist, so, so lightly. He’s grateful.

He wishes he could gift you even a fraction of the joy you bring him.

A whistle snaps him out of his thoughts. Yelan lowers herself to sit next to him on the cool stone steps going down to the harbour. Where did she come from? Was that blood-

“Soup. Tomato soup.” She pops the ‘p’ as she speaks. He can smell the blood. “No worries.” He does worry. She laughs when she sees his face. “It’s not mine, relax. What brings our hermit adeptus to the harbour?”

She reaches for the bag of purchases in his hands as he explains. “I’m here to get (Name) a present.” She turns the finch around in her hands, amused, and he continues. “I’m yet to come across anything significant. Do you have any… recommendations?”

Yelan tsks and stares at the hubbub below, deliberating. Xiao glances at the luxurious fur on her jacket rustle gently in the breeze and wonders how they ever became friends. His advent into the Chasm… well, he truly did think he would die, but he instead returned with closure and absurd company.

More or less anyway- Yelan is too busy to come visit frequently, but she’ll sometimes call him for no reason. To sample some dessert she bought, or to tell him a mundane story. He suspects it’s so she can keep an eye on his health. Sometimes, in his nightmares, he sees her stricken face when he teleported her out the Chasm, when she thought he’d never return.

“What are you thinking?” She raises an eyebrow. “It had better be something productive, not daydreams of (Name).”

“Those are productive,” he counters. “But forget it… suggestions?”

“Maybe jewellery?” She stands up and dusts herself off. “It’s a little cliché, but never a fail. And probably some perfume to put into that bottle… which I will go get, because… no. Actually, you should come too.” She grins.

✦—————————————✦

He’s never talking to Yelan again. The shop she suggested had some lovely ear cuffs, shaped like wings and flowers, clouds and daggers. Pretty. He got you a few pairs, which the shopkeeper seemed delighted about. Were they expensive, by mortal standards?

He peeks into the bag and watches them glitter through the glass case. Probably.

The thought of you wearing them makes him feel a bit lightheaded. You’re always at the very zenith of loveliness, so it always astounds him to see you turn more and more beautiful by the day. The ear cuffs would accentuate your charm wonderfully. He grins at the thought, then painedly coughs, recalling Ying’er. By Morax, she made him profoundly uncomfortable, then compounded that discomfort with every passing minute. Yelan found it hilarious and he admits, only to himself, he’d find it equally amusing if it was someone else in his place.

In any case, he now has a rather large bag of presents. A fat finch, jewellery, a pretty bottle containing gentle perfume extracted from the flowers of your hometown (he’s so proud of expertly dodging Ying’er’s questions on how he got them) and-? A coffin keychain?

He sighs and keeps it.

While he has all these offerings present for the god that reigns supreme in his heart… there is no centrepiece, no special present. When he asks Yanfei and Ping, they glance at one another and gleefully suggest a wedding ring, to which he gives a forceful no. He’d never want to make you celebrate two things in one day- after all, that’s one less day of merrymaking.

✦—————————————✦

Liyue Harbour looks so pretty in the night.

You remember a friend of yours telling you something once. Liyue Harbour makes you feel melancholy on the bad days, and warm on the good. She was right.

Sometimes, you have trouble deciphering what exactly it is that you’re feeling. And sometimes, you have trouble facing your feelings altogether.

As you trod through the gates facing Mt. Tianheng, you feel a pit softly open through in your chest. Inside of you, something stays deathly still, trying to ignore it, even as soft, powdery tendrils attempt to coax you inside.

It’s two in the morning, and it is also your birthday.

The shops and stalls are nearly all closed, with only some taverns open late into the night. They’ll close soon enough too, though. If you crane your neck enough, you know you’ll catch a view of the Pearl Galley, radiant and luxurious, a warm spot on the cool waves.

Sometimes Xiao walks you home after a long day. He’ll pause on the road while you receive your commission Mora from Katheryne, and you go take a walk along the harbour, buying groceries for dinner, him sighing as you find and inhale the unhealthiest snacks you can contrive, and scoffing when you offer them to him- even though there’s no force behind it.

And sometimes you sit on the edge of the port, watching the Pearl Galley take gentle laps around the port. Amusedly trying (and failing) to take a peek inside, wondering which socialite paid the lovely maidens aboard a visit.

But there’s no Xiao here today. He hasn’t visited in a while, and it’s your birthday.

You blink rapidly, eyes stinging. It’s okay. Birthdays happen every year and you’re not a child, you’re just tired after a long day.

“And besides.” You pat a stray dog as you walk past it to your home. “It’s so late. He’ll hopefully remember and wish me tomorrow?”

She answers with a whine and a wag of her tail. You chuckle.

“Stay right here. I’ll get you something.” You blow it a kiss, your temper buoyant once more. It’s so late, you can’t expect Xiao to-

“I already fed her.”

You nearly stumble (curse those mountains, your muscles are so goddamn sore) with how fast you whirl to face him. He’s right there, in soft, loose clothes. The lights inside the house come on as he gives your baffled face the smallest, softest of smiles. “Happy birthday, (Name).”

You bark a laugh as you rush into his arms.

✦—————————————✦

You’re not sure what exactly you did for this world to give you Xiao, the most beautiful of creatures, kindest of people, gentlest of hearts. You used to think his distance and clipped sentences were an armour worn to protect his jaded heart from the world. You were heartbroken yet skeptical when Wang Ping’an told you of it being the opposite- that he cares deeply for his people and is devoted to his duty. That he has much love to give, but never could on account of his karmic debt.

You don’t know what you’d do if not for your vision.

Xiao’s firm, calloused fingers softly massage your scalp. He offered to help you wash your hair when you mentioned being too tired and sore to do it on your own, so you’re now in your bathroom seated on a stool as he does it for you. One hand reaches down gently to prevent the foam from entering your eye as you ramble on about the day you’ve had. He frowns when you tell him you got nearly killed by a treasure hoarder, then looks almost impressed when he hears you befriended the schmuck.

“And he’s not a bad guy, really.” You boop his nose gently with a wet finger and it scrunches slightly. “He just didn’t have a choice, y’know? Anyway, I told him I’d help him get a job. He’s gonna stay over until he gets back on his feet, so be nice when you see him, okay?”

Xiao blinks rapidly. His eyelashes are so pretty. “Wait- are you certain you can trust him? Tilt your head back.”

You tip your head back and explain as he rinses your hair. “He’s just a kid, really. He’s new to this treasure hoarder schtick. And it should be fine, right? I’ll keep the valuables locked and let him have the guest room. Poor kid, do you think he’ll be able to wait on people? Maybe I could convince Chef Mao?

“He has his hands full with Shenhe.” Xiao snorts. “I don’t think he can take any more. Although if you want… I could take the child to Wangshu Inn with me. Perhaps he could assist Huai’an.”

You gasp in delight and beam at him. You swear you see his pupils dilate. “You’d do that for him?”

“For you.”

✦—————————————✦

Dinner was pleasant- all you could focus was inhaling anything and everything remotely edible present on the table. You were ravenous.

Even so, you couldn’t help but notice the anticipatory looks Xiao gave you, the little taps of his clawed fingers on the table. He didn’t say a word as you finished your meal. Just looked at you gently with those luminous golden eyes.

Stamping down your excitement was difficult despite your exhaustion. There was something Xiao was keeping under wraps, you could tell- he was just a bit unravelled, just the tiniest bit. Lips parted in slight anticipation, pupils dilated like a parakeets.

You look at one another across the table and he abruptly blinks and rises up, taking the dishes with him. Putting them in the sink, he turns to you slowly. You hear the dog bark at something outside, the clatter of her claws across the pavement but it feels as though she’s on land, with you underwater. When did Xiao get so close?

Your breath leaves you as his talon tipped fingers gently cradle your face, stroke your cheek. He laces his fingers with yours and brings them to his mouth for a kiss.

“Do you wish to rest?” He asks gently. As if he didn’t just rob you of your ability to form coherent sentences. “I had some presents prepared for you, but it’ll be morning soon. You ought to rest.”

Aha. So that was what he wanted to show you. He looks so shy at the mention of gifts- long eyelashes lowered, lips pressed together that you can’t resist beaming and landing a soft kiss on his cheek. He exhales.

“I want to see them now.”

He sighs, but he’s smiling, too. “Very well.”

He gestures for you to walk on ahead to your room and you do, sprinting across the hallway, invigorated at the prospect of- what.

Your bed is laden with presents.

It looks almost like an offering table- there are flowers interspersed among the gifts- an exquisite bottle of perfume is the first to catch your eye and you excitedly hold it to your nose. It smells like your favourite flowers. You turn to beam at him and he turns away, pink eared, and gestures to the rest.

There’s a coffin keychain (huh?), a fat finch carving the size of your face (you’ll cherish and protect that thing with your life), multiple small, velvety boxes with glass covers (you nearly scream. Is that the Mingxing jewellery crest? How expensive was this?) and something covered by a soft square of fabric, right in the centre.

It’s a feast for the eyes, you giddily think, taking everything in. You’ll definitely need to have a talk with Xiao about the expense- good lord, that ear cuff is embedded with three different jewels- but for now, you heart is so full you feel it’ll burst at the seems. And as you lift up the cloth to uncover what’s beneath, you’re very certain you’ll weep if you’re not too careful.

It's a box, made perhaps of wood, standing on elegant coral legs. With gems or resin or more coral, you can’t tell- there's a picture composed upon it, with you clinging to the side of a mountain before it, and Xiao right behind, holding out his fingers to receive what you hand to him. There’s the sunset too, behind both of you- a gorgeous mess of pink, white and scarlet, gold rays streaking across it, from the setting sun into the lavender dusk beyond.

It’s a bit roughly hewn, but it’s beautiful, and it’s yours.

It’s the day you really talked to one another for the first time, the start of something so precious to you that even the mere thought of losing it makes your heart physically ache.

You really are going to cry.

Turning to Xiao, you see the soft, anxious look in his eyes as he tries to gauge your reaction. He parts his lips to say something, but stops to let you go first. You shake your head and ask him to speak.

“I… am aware of it not being the best of presents.” (You wonder if he smacked his head into something today.) “It is… a box.” He coughs, glancing away, then faces you again and now you truly are in danger of bawling, with the way he’s looking at you. You bite your tongue and blink rapidly. Xiao gives you a rueful smile as he continues.

“I thought for a long time, but couldn’t fathom what you’d want most. I did not know what would constitute as a good present- but I remembered… when we first talked for length. Your unpaid commission. I’m grateful to Baizhu, for falling ill… I could never have dreamed myself capable of feeling such joy. Because of you.

“I just…” he trails off, eyes widening as the tears slip past your lashes, down your cheeks (traitors, they’re making such a fuss). He’s before you in an instant, cupping your face, drawing you closer, forehead pressed to yours. “I wanted to give you something to put your treasures in, where they could be safe. And I wanted to remind you… I will appear, no matter the circumstances, the moment you call for me.”

Your chest hurts.

“And,” he whispers, “if your burdens grow too heavy, simply turn around. Place them in my hands. I will carry them until you can once more. Just as you have done for me.”

And all you can do, really, is tell him you love him, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping him in a giant embrace. He jumps, then laugh, large wings and slender arms wrapping around you.

It’s morning by the time you finally fall asleep, presents on one side of your bed and you on the other, after listening to Xiao recount his day at the harbour. You snicker at his conversation with the Boss, laugh when you hear of Hu Tao’s shenanigans, cackle hysterically when he shakes his head in embarrassment and tells you of his time spent with Ying’er and Yelan.

But when he tells you of his conversation with Ping and Yanfei, eyes softening, wings tightening around you- of the time he spent bringing the box into being, with their help and his very own hands- you can’t help but get teary eyed once more. Wrapping your fingers around his, you bring them to your mouth to kiss every fingertip, each kiss interspersed with a whispered “I love you,” that he returns with a quiet, fervent murmur of his own.

As you both begin to doze off in one another’s arms, you hear finches in the distance, awakening before even the dawn. You trace your fingers over his face, gently, gently and kiss his cheek.

You wish you could articulate what he means to you- and what his efforts meant to you.

His presents were nothing in the face of his company, and his company nothing in the face of his happiness.

More than anything, your heart is full at the thought of Xiao- free of his duties for even just a day, meeting with friends to contrive a present for you. That he spent time with them, amused himself with their shenanigans, fell prey to their mischief. That he had a mundane day at the harbour.

By Morax, you love him. Perhaps next week you’ll clear out your schedule, and ask him to take you with him on another.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary: you’ve not seen your boyfriend in a while, so when you call his name he’s ready to please 

pairing: xiao x afab! reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, very soft, some good ol’ love making, f! masturbation, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), mating press, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), marking if you squint

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

genshin impact masterlist

The bed felt cold as you tried to get comfortable underneath the covers. But without the familiar weight of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, you just kept tossing and turning.

When was the last time you could spend some quality time with your boyfriend, let alone could get lost in each other’s touch? With the Lantern Rite upon you, more and more evil spirits found their way onto the mortal plane and Xiao was out hunting them down near constantly. You understood, of course. Liyue’s safety was the top priority and you’d never fault him for doing his Morax- sworn duty…

But you were needy, so incredibly needy.

It started when you came home from your commissions, exhausted and in dire need of a bath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the tiny hope that Xiao would be there to greet you had taken root. Instead of the adeptus, you were merely met with silence and an empty house.

With a sigh, you drew yourself a bath and rooted through your closet for some comfortable clothes. Pretty quickly your fingers closed around familiar fabric and a tug later you held one of Xiao’s shirts in your hands… He’d forgive you, you decided. You needed the comfort of his scent around you now.

After soaking in the warm water until your fingers turned slightly pruney and drying yourself off, you slipped his shirt on and melted into the soft material. You decided to call it a day and got ready for bed without any rush. When you slid under the covers, there was still no trace of Xiao, so with a sigh you closed your eyes.

Just for sleep not to find you. In the pale moonlight of your bedroom, your thoughts kept drifting to your boyfriend and although it started very innocently, they soon spiralled into territory that would’ve made the elders in town gasp in indignance. And before you even considered stopping yourself, your hands started to wander.

You barely applied any pressure with your fingertips, your touch merely a whisper as Xiao appeared before your mind’s eye. The way he’d trace the sensitive areas of your body, worshipping you as if you were the most delicate flower and paying attention to how you reacted to his every action.

He’d lean down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your cheek as he told you to relax, leave it all to him, let him take care of you. Slightly dipping your fingers into the waistband of your pants, you slid them back up your stomach, the cold sensation of your fingers making goosebumps rise in their wake and pulling the hem of Xiao’s shirt up a few centimetres.

As you pinched one of your hardening nipples and gave it a light tug to feebly imitate the way he’d close his lips around it, lightly gracing his sharp teeth along your flesh, you could almost see his amber eyes gazing down at you, drinking in the sight in front of him. The mere fantasy of him so close to you again had your thighs rubbing together in search of some friction. You shuddered at the memory of him kissing down the valley of your breasts, mapping the planes of your abdomen with his lips even if he already knew every curve of your body.

At this point, you couldn’t tease yourself any further. It had been too long since you felt the pleasure of his attention and you were craving to release some of this tension. Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your pants and settled on top of the sheets before dragging your fingertips up the inside of your thighs.

There was already a wet patch forming on your panties as you teased your fingers over your slit. Xiao’s absence had made you so sensitive, the featherlight touch was enough to have your legs twitching, a little bit of pressure against your neglected clit enough to have you gasping for air. 

Impatiently, you slid the obstructing material down your legs, feeling your slick connect to the seat of the panties before snapping against your skin as the garment was left to hang from one of your ankles. 

Collecting some of your arousal with your middle finger, you ran it through your folds before pushing past the muscles of your entrance. For the first initial moments it felt good as you slowly worked the digit in and out of you but it quickly turned out to be not nearly enough to stimulate you.

Perhaps Xiao’s attentive care had spoiled you rotten and ruined you for everyone else, even yourself, but sooner rather than later you added a second finger. Finally, you felt yourself stretch just a little as more slick coated the palm of your hand but you still couldn't reach quite as far as your boyfriend’s skilled fingers could; not to mention, how heavenly the strokes of his dick felt against your velvety walls.

The effort of trying to bring yourself to the edge of pleasure had you panting just a bit but it became pretty clear you needed more stimulation than just your digits pumping rhythmically in and out of you. So, as your free hand found its way back under your shirt to massage the fat of your tit, your thumb clumsily rubbed little circles over your clit. While it wasn’t quite the same, it still had one or the other moan spill from your lips as you felt a familiar coil tighten in your stomach. 

Under your passionate touches, your spine slightly arched off the mattress as you clenched your eyes shut, picturing before you sweat-slicked teal bangs and sharply bright eyes. In anticipation of teeth gracing your pulse point and lips wrapping around the sensitive area below your throat, you craned your neck and threw your head back to give your imaginary partner easy access to do as he pleased. Before it registered in your mind, a single breathy syllable passed your lips and lingered in the air and…

“Xiao~”

The effect was instantaneous. Your general state of pleasure made you unaware of the black and green smoke at the end of your bed, the cutting glare scanning the room for enemies before widening at the sight in front of him.

In a motion very unlike him, the jade spear slipped from his grasp and clattered obnoxiously on the floor, alerting you to the presence of someone else there with you. Desperately, your mind tried to catch up to what was happening but before you could fully blink into consciousness, a familiar weight had already straddled your waist and a gloved hand cradled your neck to lead you into a searing kiss.

Under normal circumstances, Xiao wouldn’t have been so rash but really, the prolonged withdrawal from you also took a toll on him. And then, to be suddenly presented with the most sinful view of all, his patience ran thin. From his vantage point, he could see the shaking of your thighs, the curve of your chest and, most importantly of all, your fingers desperately working that glistening pussy of yours. All of this, as he now noted, while dressed merely in his shirt, staking his involuntary but not unwelcome claim over you.

“Xiao?” You broke away from his kiss to allow your lungs some air. “What are you doing here? I thought you were-”

“You called me,” he merely stated. “And now I’m here to please you.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, yet still linked your hands behind his head and pulled him down to bridge the gap between you again.

“But I want to,” he whispered against the corner of your mouth, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he leaned over you. “Being away from you for so long was hard on me too.”

Gently but deliberately, Xiao caught the wrist of your hand that was fingering your core and brought it up to his mouth as he sat back on his haunches before wrapping his lips around your coated fingers. Whilst his tongue swirled around your digits, you could feel his sharp teeth graze your skin, teasing you by pretending to bite down. You knew he would never hurt you but feeling their sharp edges press into the pads of your fingers as he sucked the last of your arousal off of them made adrenaline course through your veins and the hairs in the back of your neck rise.

“I almost forgot how good you taste,” he groaned, golden eyes fluttering closed. Then, the yaksha’s weight lifted off of you as you felt the mattress dip under the shift of his weight. Your breath got caught in your throat as he guided your legs to rest on his shoulders, slipping your panties off your ankle and curling his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him. Xiao closely studied how your soaked pussy clenched under his gaze and in one swift motion, he pulled his gloves off with his teeth and discarded them. Lightly tracing through your folds, he mumbled more so for himself, “So pretty…”

“Xiao,” you moaned, thighs twitching in his hold as he blew a puff of air against your core. “Please touch me, I really need you.”

There was no need to tell him twice. With fervour, he licked a fat stripe up your pussy, his tongue flicking deliciously against your clit before diving straight into your fluttering hole. Despite the long absence, Xiao still knew your body like the back of his hand. In no time, your body was twisting on the bed as whines and whimpers spilled freely into the night’s air, spurring him on to tighten his grip on you. 

Normally, he’d shush you softly, reprimanding you to keep still so he could continue pleasing you. But today he just let you writhe under the assault of his tongue as he watched the euphoria cross your face. The vibration of his groans as you pulled him closer by his teal locks felt heavenly, the sensitivity from your lost orgasm still drumming through your veins.

The attention of his mouth shifted to your clit, wrapping his lips around the little nub and gently sucking on it as his fingers replaced his tongue. You could see the muscles in his arms flex with every movement against you and it sent more heat straight to your core. In an act of desperate selfishness, your heels pressed into his shoulder blades as your toes curled to ride out your approaching high on his scissoring digits. The sound of you chanting his name over and over as your pussy clenched down on him had his hips involuntarily rutting against the mattress to alleviate some of his need.

“Xiao, I’m so close,” you whined. “Please keep going.”

Curling his fingers forward into the spongy spot which made you see stars, he coaxed your orgasm out of you, greedily drinking up all your juices and not letting a single drop go to waste while you twisted your hands tighter into his hair.

Through the fog of pleasure you vaguely realised Xiao lifting himself off of you but before you could calm your breathing, he had already resumed sitting between your legs. With the ghost of a trace, his knuckles ran over your temple, pushing matted hair out of eyes. You repaid his gesture in kind, raking your nails over his scalp as he pressed caring kisses against your still racing pulsepoint, leaving faint hues of purples and reds to decorate the canvas that was your neck and shoulder.

“How are you feeling, love?” He whispered, deft hands massaging the flesh of your thighs which were caging in his slim waist. “Do you wish to continue?”

Bucking your hips up into his, earning groans from both of you, you chuckled breathlessly. “Xiao, I swear to the Archons, if you don’t fill me up…”

“I recall a certain human saying,” he mirrored your playful grin, “warning mortals to be careful what they wish for.”

Any form of witty remark died in your mouth as his fingers dug back into the flesh of your thighs as his warm length dragged through your folds, coating himself in your slick and his precum. The sensation of his cockhead catching your clit on every upward motion had you choking back whimpers as the knot in your stomach started tightening again.

As much as Xiao was awed by the sight of tears of pleasure watering your lash line, his patience was wearing incredibly thin and the need to be buried in you was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. 

“Are you ready, dear?”

“Yes, Xiao,” your need evident in those eyes he could lose himself in, “please make us feel good.” 

Lifting one hand off your leg, he aligned himself with your entrance before slowly pushing in. Even after all this time, Xiao still stretched you so well; just the mushroom tip had you gripping the sheets like a lifeline. Yet, you still encouraged your partner to keep going deeper until, eventually, he was buried balls deep inside.

After giving you some much needed time to adjust to his cock resting inside of your walls, Xiao started pulling out a little and thrusting back in without any rush, setting a slow but deep pace which had you feeling every vein decorating his shaft. The more your sweet noises increased in volume, the more strength he put into the movements of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

In one fluid motion, your legs were hoisted back over his shoulder as the adeptus leaned more of his weight on you and pressed your thighs towards your chest with his body alone. With his hands now free, Xiao could reach around your intertwined bodies to pin your wrists down against the sheets, which were now freed of the deathgrip you had on them. 

Somehow, this position always made him reach so much deeper than before, your cunt spasming around his dick when his pelvis ground against your clit. In combination with how effortlessly he seemed to hit all your sensitive spots, it had your back arching into his touch and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. And, as if to seal your fate completely, Xiao dove down to lock your lips and steal all remaining air from your lungs. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, finally slightly out of breath as well, as he smeared a messy kiss against your forehead. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” you sobbed into his shoulder as another wave of pleasure licked up your spine and set your veins ablaze. “I’m… not gonna last…”

“Neither,” he panted, “I’m almost there, love.”

Bringing one of your linked hands up, he pressed a quick peck onto your knuckles before letting go and letting his fingers drift back to your sweat-slicked chest, pushing his shirt up to expose your breasts to the night’s air. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and index finger, he engulfed the other in the warmth of his mouth and lavished it in the attention of his tongue. 

Meanwhile, your free hand was slung over his back to keep him close. On a particularly well angled thrust, however, you dug your fingernails into his skin, no doubt leaving some nasty half moons to decorate his shoulder blade. The low grunt against your tit and the twitch of his cock against your insides had your core tightening, clamping down on him like a vice. You were sure there was no need in telling him, no doubt he was already well aware, and still…

“I’m close, Xiao,” bounced off the walls, flowing into the symphony of lewd noises filming the room as your lover readjusted his grip on your trembling thighs.

“That’s it, let go,” he breathed quietly, yet you still heard him so clearly. “Cum for me, love.”

With his encouragement you fell off the edge, lightning shooting through your limbs and stars dancing before your eyes. Chasing his own high and fucking you through yours, Xiao straightened up and held your legs down with his hands again, watching your marked up breasts bounce with each thrust whilst the rhythmic pulse of your walls encouraged him to spill deep inside of you.

And that was just what he did.

Comfortingly familiar warmth flooded your insides as your partner sloppily rode out his orgasm before slumping forward into your embrace. Your hand stroked calmingly along the length of his spine as you felt his cock softening inside of you with a last few twitches.

“I love you,” you mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn against his shoulder. Now, with your energy spent and your beloved’s arms holding you, it was getting harder and harder to fight off the tempting pull of sleep.

Careful not to disturb you too much, Xiao slowly pulled out and watched his cum drip from your hole. On other nights, the sight might have made him pounce on you again but this time, he simply wanted to lie next to you as you fell asleep in his embrace. Giving each knee a sweet kiss, he set them down and stretched them out gently before sliding next to you and pulling the covers over you. He’d clean you up later, he promised as he guided your head to rest against his chest. For the time being, Xiao just wanted to hold you close.

“I love you, too.” And with that, he sent you off into the sweetest of dreams.

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[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

08 Reward

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Rex Lapis is actively ruling Liyue. He's called Morax in here / Reader is a mortal priestess of Rex Lapis / Bogus adeptal art truth spell / Manipulation and gaslighting if you squint / Gosh smut is so hard to write, how do yall do it? This took me way too long >_<

"You deserve a reward." A content rumble reached your ear.

"To be able to serve Rex Lapis is rewarding enough." You answered, drizzling the fragrant oils into his hair and massaging it into the individual strands.

He's always enjoyed moments of leisure like this, shedding all the formalities along with his robes. The water within the spring was translucent like a flawless piece of jade. The steam rising from its surface obscured your vision. Droplets of moisture clung to the archon's face and neck. You couldn't help but admire the artistry that was his face. The wet strands of his hair spilled between your fingers as you combed through them. His horns glinted like the finest cor lapis. Beads of water slid down his skin, tracing the curves and valleys of his body. It was a good thing that his eyes were shut. If he caught you gazing so intently at him, your dignified image would be done for.

As one of Rex Lapis's personal attendants, you also held the position of divine priestess during his rites. This was already the highest possible honor endowed to a mortal, to be allowed in such proximity with the god himself. What more could you possibly ask for?

"Oh, but I insist." He lifted his gaze, peering at you through veiled eyes.

For a god who graciously answered the prayers of his countless followers, how could he neglect the prayers of his most devoted priestess?

"My Lord, it is an honor—" Your words dissolved on your tongue. The pad of his thumb pressed against your lips.

How many times had he heard these lips utter his name in the deep of night? Did you truly believe your hands were enough to muffle those sounds you made? Did you really expect him not to notice the way your eyes linger on him when he wasn't looking your way?

His lips curled ever so slightly at the thought. You were such a determined pretender. Even though he saw right through you, to the rest of Liyue, you were untouchable, carrying yourself with such convincing aloofness. It was quite amusing, watching you conceal yourself to this extent.

You craved his attention. Every glance of approval and hum of satisfaction fed your unquenchable flame. On the surface, the love you had for your dear archon was not so unlike any other follower of Rex Lapis. If you were to pluck out all these inappropriate tendrils of longing, you were no different from his other priests. Your admiration was just as deep. If anything, living in Jueyun Karst amongst the adepti allowed you to see with your own eyes how blessed the people of Liyue were to have the guidance and protection of Rex Lapis. You never took your responsibilities lightly as an intermediary between the archon and his people, carrying out his orders and bringing back their earnest offerings.

Mortals asked for many things. Riches, health, children, these were amongst the countless prayers uttered at his statues. You had desires too, as did any mortal, but your prayers were not intended for his ears. If they were, he would be hearing them directly from you. You kept them carefully hidden, or so you thought. Little did you know, the stones, the earth, even the bricks in your wall, they were all permeated with his power. So naturally, whenever you acted on these frustrating desires, he was present in a sense.

At first, he was simply curious, intrigued by what you could possibly be so tortured by. As his priestess, you had no lack for food, clothes, nor shelter. He showered you with trinkets and gifts that you were free to exchange for mora if you wished to. You were also not restricted from seeking what mortals called love. What sort of unfulfilled desires could you harbor?

All of those musings came to rest when his name slipped from your lips one night. You were curled up in your bed, eyes tightly shut. He could tell you weren't asleep. Your breaths were shallow, slightly urgent, as were your heartbeats. There was a furrow in your brows as your cheeks burned with arousal.

You had just returned to your chambers after accompanying the archon at the Luhua Pools. This was often your state after fulfilling your duties. It was futile to deny how easily lust managed to overtake you. Perhaps Rex Lapis wasn't aware because no mortal ever dared to speak of him in that way, but everytime you untied his belt, you wondered if he had ever taken a mortal to bed.

Your archon was no stranger to lust. He recognized it in your eyes whenever you accidentally let it through. It was a different sort of experience, being the object of desire.

"What do you wish for, my sweet?" He asks. "Surely you must not take me for an ungenerous god."

"I don't have…" You trailed off.

Morax rose out of the water, letting it cascade down his chest and splash against the stone ledge. You swallowed. The predictable heat spread over you as your gaze swept down his body, resting where it what was obsured by the moving water.

"You do, dear. Whether you will ask for it, I would rather not wait and see, but you need not question it. It would be unfair of me to withhold what you deserve."

He leaned into you, lips ghosting over yours, but not allowing them to touch. He chuckled at how quickly you abandoned your words, eyes shutting like the sensitive petals of a glaze lily.

"You could never be unfair, my Lord."

"That is certainly a flattering presumption." He smiled appreciatively. "I grant you permission to use my name instead of my titles. You prefer to call me by name when you are alone, if I'm not mistaken."

Confusion rippled in your eyes for a moment before his words dawned on you.

"I don't mean any disrespect, my Lord."

The logistics of how he knew didn't even occur to you yet, but the fact that he knew what name you called him by in the privacy of your own chambers had you scrambling to clear your name.

"I am sure you don't intend it." He mused. "While speaking my name in that manner may indeed be considered disrespectful to some, I do not mind it from you."

"You don't mind?" Your face lit up.

He nodded. "You may consider it your first reward."

You drew in an anxious breath. "Morax?"

"Not quite how I imagine it would sound on your lips, but I do enjoy it." He remarked cryptically.

His face was still so close, much closer than he had ever been. Warm breath fanned over your skin. His hand took its time, patiently tracing a wet path from your cheeks, along your jaw, sweeping your hair over your shoulder to expose the curve of your neck.

In all the years of serving your archon, he had never touched you like this. Everywhere his hand visited, the fabric covering your body became translucent, soaked through with water. Your body trembled, mind wandering as your senses melted into an intimate haze. By the time his lips pressed into yours, you were already breathless.

At first, every kiss seemed to be counted. Be it on your forehead, your neck, or your shoulder, each one was laid with intent, a reward you had been waiting for. He delivered them without hesitation. The further they trailed away from your lips, the more generous and uninhibited they became. He showered your neck with attention, nipping gently and leaving faint marks. The occasional gasp escaped your lips as you arched your neck, allowing him more access to your skin. You unraveled so easily, he almost felt guilty for not rewarding you sooner.

You held your breath as his hand found the tie of your robe, pulling it loose. He peeled the soaked fabric away from your skin, finally letting his lips caress it without the obstructing layers. His teeth grazed your neck, stopping at your pulse. He abruptly bit down, causing your whole body to tense. Your heart raced in anticipation.

"Sensitive thing. Does that excite you?" He hummed.

You winced as he nipped you again, this time on your clavicle.

Your archon's hands were still busy with removing your clothes. He had to pull away briefly to finish the task. Your legs dangled over the edge, partially submerged in the water. He parted them effortlessly, standing between them as he brought you closer against him.

"If you don't voice your desires, how am I to know how to best reward you, hmm?" He stroked your face dotingly.

"Wouldn't a priestess of Rex Lapis be expected to rise above worldly desires?"

"I do not see it that way. You are still mortal and I will not hold that against you. Many want Mora from me. They want blessings, guidance, protection, all things they desire for me to do for them. Yet you, my sweet priestess…" His finger latch under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "You have no desire for gains."

"I don't know what you're saying."

Your shame would simply not allow you to admit that you lusted after your archon, even if he just called you out for it.

"Still denying it, I see." He smiled, raising a hand to free your bottom lip from your bite. "That will not do."

A bewitching glow emitted from the depths of from his amber pools. Your eyes became cloudy for a brief second before regaining clarity.

"My dearest priestess deserves to speak her mind." His breath tickles your ear as he whispered into it.

You nodded, not feeling anything out of the ordinary despite being certain that he had just done something to you. Your mind quickly flitted over what it could possibly have been, settling on one of his lesser-known abilities as the God of Contracts.

In the earlier days of Liyue's establishment, Rex Lapis was known to oversee contracts directly. He enacted harsh punishments for those who broke them. In order to prevent undermining from happening, he was rumored to use adeptal arts to force competing parties to speak openly and honestly in order to reach a mutually beneficial agreement. He couldn't read minds, but with a mere glance, he could have them spill their most guarded secrets. Such was necessary when it came to ensuring a fair and transparent contract. You weren't sure if that applied to you, but if he had in fact used adeptal arts on you, you would have no choice but to speak what was actually going through your mind.

"Now tell me, what did you truly mean to say?" The archon questioned you again.

"I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me." You thought aloud. "My devotion has become an abomination."

"Even gods are not immune to lust. Don't be so hard on yourself, my sweet." He purred, clearly pleased with your answer this time.

"You don't find it repulsive? That I imagine you in that way?"

"There is nothing that deems it wrong for you to desire me…"

You drew in an unsteady breath as he lowered his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow, but persuasive. You found yourself opening up for him, inviting his tongue in to sweep against yours.

His hands didn't remain, lowering onto your shoulders, making their way down to rest on your hips. You mirrored his intensity, getting bolder and more unrestrained. He chuckled against your lips, the deep vibrations sending tremors down your spine. This was the effect a little forced honesty had on you.

Fingers danced along your thighs, tracing the curve of your waist. You sucked in an unsteady breath when you felt his hands reach your chest. He fondled the soft flesh, paying attention to the sounds you made and the expressions on your face, adjusting his pressure according to your response. When the kiss ended, your lips were free to let out whatever sighs and moans came to it.

"I can see why mortals are so taken with pleasures of the flesh. My dearest, does this feel good?"

"Morax…" You panted as he lapped at your glistening slit. "I should be the one pleasuring you."

"Nonsense. It is challenging enough for me to find a way to reward you. I will not have you refusing it under the premise of who should be satisfying who."

He pulled your waist towards him, inserting his swollen tip into your sopping hole. You whimpered at the immediate stretch, arching your back off the ledge.

"I may even consider making this a reoccurance for you if you enjoy it enough." He rambled on as his cock began to massage your insides. "It's not as if I do not derive pleasure from this. You may consider it a mutually rewarding experience rather than an exclusive one."

Despite Morax claiming it was mutually rewarding, you couldn't help but feel inadequate. He groaned from time to time, but it was mostly you making all the noise. He was barely breaking a sweat while you were rendered incoherent, sobbing and crying as if you were being bullied.

"Dear, are you sure you're enjoying this?" He asked you, concern lacing his deep voice. This was your first time and he didn't want to leave you with an unpleasant experience. "You sound like you could use a rest. Would you like me to stop?"

"No!" You gasped as he slammed into you again. The smooth ledge met your back each time you took him to the hilt. "Don't stop!"

Some rewards were practical and required nothing of the recipient. Others were back-breaking, but worth the extra mile. This one was the later. The pleasure Morax was able to bring you far surpassed anything you could ever manage on your own. Whether it was Morax's tongue or his cock, he was not only able to reach deeper, but grind up against those spots that made your toes curl. With each thrust, you felt your mind break a little. Before you could catch your breath, another orgasm crashed into you, leaving you drenched and exhausted.

You had already come apart multiple times, but it was clear he could go on for at least a couple more rounds. All of this was seemingly effortless on his part, as if he was simply lifting a finger.

"Can't… Morax…" You pleaded desperately.

He slowed his movements to take a good look at you. Tears clung to your lashes and cheeks. Sweat dampened your hair, plastering it against your face and neck. Your legs were limp and covered in your own slick. The sight awakened something sadistic in him, but he knew better than to indulge that dangerous spark for longer than you could endure. He didn't want your reward to become his regret.

"A little longer, my sweet…" He lips brushed against your tearstained cheeks. "You can take it, hmm?"

You nodded tiredly. Anything for your beloved archon. What's a lovestruck priestess supposed to do, especially when asked in such a tone?

The warm, gushing water gave you some alleviation as his hands gripped your waist. As soon as his pace picked up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and braced yourself. You didn't have to wait long. Once his warmth flooded your insides, a sense of relief washed over you.

"Thank you." He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead once he had you all cleaned up and wrapped in a dry robe.

"What kind of cruel tart would I be if I didn't return the favor even once?"

"Do you understand why I insisted on rewarding you now?" He chuckled.

"That's different."

"How so?" He hummed. "I see everything you do, my dear. You must allow me to repay you in some way. As the God of Contracts, I cannot allow for a debt to go unpaid, especially my own."

"You better get used to it then." You shrugged. "Favors, you can tally up. Emotions and sentiments, you can't. Do you expect anything from the commonfolk for the millenia you watched over them?"

"Indeed I do not." He thought about what you said, agreeing with your line of reasoning.

"If my happiness means anything to you, then just do what you can to protect it. Isn't that what you've always done? Why are you overcomplicating it, hmm?" You teased the old god, using his own mannerism.

"Honesty has made you bold." He chuckled. "You are lucky I find everything you do endearing."

You face flushed at the reminder. "When does it wear off?"

"I will miss it. Allow me to enjoy it for a moment longer."

"I'm getting the feeling these rewards you're giving me are more rewarding for you than they are for me."

"Some things can be mutually rewarding, my sweet. It just so happens that I also find immense pleasure in what brings you pleasure." He smiled innocently.

[chokifandom]

hihi new moot !! it’s nice to meet u and i love love love ur nagi theme :D

if there’s still slots open for ur event, i’d like to req 12 + venti from genshin !! congrats on 100 !!! 🤍

— underneath a broken sky

Thank you for requesting! your song is... A GOLDEN FORCE (ISON)

venti x f!reader, i call him barbatos instead of venti, super corny i guess LMAOO, major character death bc it’s the end of the world, slightly descriptive depictions of body pain, kinda angsty but mostly just very cheesy, possibly ooc venti because it’s been a while since i’ve written genshin and also he’s very weathered down by time and grief. also this song technically isn't an end of the world song but the vibes are There

wc: 1.6k

a/n: THANK U FOR REQUESTING ARTEMIS!! and we're technically not new moots anymore LMAO i’m so sorry it took me so long to get started on these event requests but i finally did! i was lowkey very stumped writing this because there were SO many ways i could write an end of the world scene and they would all fit venti and it was just. hard for me to choose. i hope u enjoy this <3

event

the day morax dies, you find barbatos on top of a windmill.

with a great rumble, the earth in liyue split apart, cracking and fissuring what remained of the great land. sat atop a windmill, venti heaved a forlorn sigh. the rifts in the earth stopped at the stone gate, almost threatening to tear into mondstadt.

the windmill was a rusty old thing, creaking with every slight breeze— its blades had long crumbled away with time, the city around it a ghost of what it had been.

he couldn’t bring himself to see morax in person, not even when you had told him that you could sense the earth weakening. and so you made the trip to liyue alone, so that the old dragon wouldn’t have to care for loneliness, at least in his final moments. perhaps, he could never truly come to terms with the possibility of outliving his old friend.

a familiar presence arrives next to him on a gust of wind.

“morax is no longer with us.” you perch next to him. almost immediately he intertwines his hand with your own.

it’s still real, no matter how much he runs away. morax is still dead, and him not being there to see it doesn’t change anything about it.

“he was… he was a good archon.” barbatos says. “i always thought morax would be the last of us.”

“isn’t fate a terrible thing? or whatever is left of it, i suppose,” you hum in response. “i watched him crumble into the earth, until he was indistinguishable from the soil around where he once stood.”

there are cracks on his face, like he was a porcelain doll  that eventually succumbed to the test of time. the erosion got to everyone cursed with a long life, and neither of you were an exception. 

the ugly claws of finality wrap itself around his heart, and his grip on your hand tightens with an anxiety he had seldom known prior to this moment. the looming end shouldn’t have felt so terrible— why then, does he feel his heart wrench?

he’s brooding. he almost doesn’t realise it until you cup his cheek with your other hand and lean in to rest your forehead against his. he closes his eyes and feels the world come back to him.

this lonely, barren world.

barbatos remembers the day istaroth had allowed him to peer into her memories, so he could learn the truth of this world. it was a few centuries before the people forgot her, before her existence dissipated. that heavenly mother of time wept for humanity and her tears rippled in the leylines. a piece of that bitter sadness taking root in his heart that day and never completely disappeared even long after her death, when the flow of time started eroding and becoming chaotic.

the tsaritsa had incurred the wrath of the higher ones with her betrayal, and she was the first of the archons to fall. all the snow on teyvat melted away until even dragonspine returned to how it had once been, bare mountain and flowing water. the abyss, ever opportunistic, took to ravaging the now godless land— and celestia disappeared quietly amidst the ash and flames.

but through everything, you had always been there. he remembers the first time he met you; dancing at the edge of starfell lake, your movements light and graceful but carefree at the same time. he emerged from the trees and played a lovely tune on his harp to match the rhythm of your steps, and you smiled at him 

in terms of authority, you were quite unimportant. a minor deity with the trees and flowers under your dominion was all that you were. but venti thought that it was one of the most beautiful things, to be able to create such life— anyone could shape the mountains and flatten the earth into plains, but not many gods had the kindness in their heart for even the smallest lives like you did. 

through decarabian’s fall, through the rise and fall of khaenri’ah, to the day that the abyss plundered the nations of teyvat, you had been there. you loved him through everything as did he, and now it was just the both of you nearing the end of time, under a sky torn apart from the war that had once seemed endless. 

it had been at least three thousand years since that day. three thousand years that almost seemed to have passed in an instant. fate truly does have such a cruel way of playing out, especially with how tangible the infinite realm of possibility was to an immortal than it could ever have been to a mere human, and that realm of possibility included carrying the weight and memories of a bygone world that the higher ones had left to wither away from both memory and existence.

suddenly, he feels a tug on his arm, and he doesn’t really have the time to react before he’s floating through the air, landing on a soft patch of grass that looks unusually squared against the dead soil. and before he can really process what happened, he starts laughing. it’s a hoarse sound from centuries of disuse, but it still has a raw sort of musicality to it. 

barbatos hasn’t felt this… weightless since the cataclysm two thousand years ago. 

you plop yourself next to him as he dusts himself off, and he watches. a bright glow emanates from your hand one moment, and there is a cecilia in it the next. you reach out and push the stalk of it into his hair. “you look so beautiful with flowers in your hair.”

you inhale sharply when you feel a tingling setting off in your palms, like a flame you can’t withdraw from. time had taken its toll on every immortal being— the erosion had started to cause you immense pain to bring new life into the world, and so the trees and flowers slowly died out too, just like the snow and the rivers and seas and the lightning and now, the earth. 

“what are you…—” he takes your hands in his, running his fingers over the cracks that had freshly appeared in them. golden ichor spills out, falling onto the grass and dissipating into the air. he lets go when you wince lightly, face softened with worry as he watches you. “doesn’t it hurt?”

“it does indeed,” you reply. the blades of grass withered away where your divine blood had spilled, sticking out a sore brown amidst the patch of green. “but there’s no point anymore, is there? there is no world to save anymore.”

“you’re right,” maybe it doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing anymore. the weight of the world on his shoulders is lightening up, and he begins to feel like a mere wind spirit again. “let us set ourselves free once more!”

in a brilliant display of light, barbatos unfurls his wings as he floats up into the air, braids coming wild and undone. a searing pain tears through his back and his lungs and his chest and he is caught somewhere between a wheeze, a shriek and a joyful laugh as he descends. there’s an ugly sound that’s somewhere between glass shattering and flesh tearing apart; his body is full of those ugly fractures, golden ichor falling out of every crevice of it, dripping down his beautiful face and majestic wings. “oh… oh, it hurts…”

it’s so difficult, so, so, difficult. your chest burns with every breath you take, but you make it— an expanse of green, a field of flowers of every kind that used to grow when times were not so discordant. an ugly splinter grows straight through the middle of your head.

barbatos lifts a shaky hand, caressing your cheek and wiping away the golden streaks running down them. you fall onto his shoulder; he feels your skin harden against his own, like bark of a tree. it’s grating, but it’s the last thing he’d ever feel; and so he pushes the discomfort to the back of his mind as he cradles your body that is slowly turning limp. 

“my lovely barbatos, in our long lives, i am so very grateful to have been able to be audience to your song.” you breathe out, and he rubs a tender hand on your back. but his palms don’t feel whole anymore— the end is approaching. “did you know? i am so happy that i get to breathe my last, with you by my side. whatever the end may be, neither of us will be alone.”

“forgive me, my windblume, for my voice is no longer what it used to be— my harp was lost in the war, too, but i hope that you won’t mind.” his throat burns, but he manages to sing a sweet lullaby that the mothers of mondstadt would sing to their children, a sweet song about the dandelions and windwheel asters. “rest well, my love.”

“i hope that we will be lovers, even in our next lives, if there is anything that awaits after this.” with your limbs effectively tangled, your bodies fall between the flowers, their clean petals being tainted by the gold blood that disappears as soon as it touches surface beneath a broken sky.

your vision fades into nothing as do all your other senses as your body turns back into the soil that you arose from, and barbatos’ body slowly dissipates into the air, like it had never been there in the first place. the world crumbles into itself under the weight of non-existence.

[gutouhua]

pairing. zhongli x f. reader

wc. 2.7k+

rating. explicit

tags. sort of canonverse, zhongli has ruts & dragon fangs, reader hails from mondstat, mentions of mates/mating, mentions of eating animal meat, zhongli is a perv for reader, zhongli calls reader ‘pet,’ age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, zhongli is biologically in early 30s), mentions of zhongli’s previous sexual relationships (dubcon), power dynamics, cervixfucking, overstimulation (sort of), zhongli wants to breed reader, pussydrunk zhongli, unprotected sex (pull out method)

a/n. MDNI! see end for notes

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

Zhongli rutted in early spring, when trees blossomed and bore fat fruit—juicy peaches hanging heavy on thin branches. Sometimes he’d walk by them and look at them with an almost forlorn gaze. A deep ache in his body.

He wished that there was someone who would satiate his needs like seeds did to trees or bees with flowers. They mated with each other, year after year in a frenzy—a haze of powdery yellow spilling on every surface of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli didn’t have allergies, but even if he did, he would still love and envy the pollen.

It had been a long time since Zhongli had someone like that to spend his seasons with. A mate.

He’d drink copious amounts of lily bulb tea each spring to keep himself from fucking the first person who said yes to him, and would take himself into his hands with a furious passion every morning and night—even during work breaks—to relieve himself.

And it worked. He successfully passed multiple centuries of ruts like so, although it wasn’t always easy. As Morax, he was volatile—could pass for the Pyro Archon herself, Murata, but he tempered himself over the years, learning to be the composed man he was now.

But then you appeared, and the fire flared. Hutao’s newest intern—the first in nearly a decade, fresh. A slight little creature (although most people were small compared to Zhongli), and eager to learn about funeral services from Liyue’s very best. It was the first time you’d been to Liyue, so far from your home in Mondstat, and everything and everyone interested you.

I wonder if there’s a way to breed two creatures together to create an actual cocogoat. It’d be cool—Qiqi would be able to drink actual cocogoat milk, not that cheap substitute that Baizhu makes for her, and we’d be able to eat the meat. It’d taste good, right?

Zhongli chuckled, eyes soft on you. That would be a sight to behold. He didn’t mention that he’d been alive when cocogoats still roamed the Bishui Plains—a story for another time.

And then came the questions about himself.

Why are you so red, Zhongli-xiangsheng?

His rut came early this year for some reason, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The lily bulb tea would suffice until he had a moment for himself.

But you had to make it difficult. So difficult for him.

Nothing, he murmured.

You grinned, stepping closer on tiptoes so your eyes leveled his chest. Soft rise and fall—imperceptible unless face to face like you were.

It doesn’t seem like nothing to me, Xiangsheng.

Zhongli fought the urge to inhale your soft scent. Sweet, powdery like lilies and dusk and something tender he wanted to bite—

—And he tasted blood in his mouth to stop his fangs from descending onto your exposed neck, nearly shook from the force it took to not bend you over his desk.

It would leave a mess. And Hutao would add it to his tab.

Even now you tempted him with coy glances, a bare shoulder, and sometimes a lingering touch in the space between his cuff and gloves—sharp like the sting of the formidable Raiden’s electro bolts.

“Do you want to know what I learned today, Xiansheng?” You had taken to calling him that instead of his mortal name one day. Zhongli wasn’t quite sure why, but he liked how it sounded on your lips.

He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit and shuffled the papers on his desk while shifting to hide the stiffness in his pants. “Pray, do tell.”

You leaned forward, settling your weight on the heavy oak table. “I heard you’re rutting right now.”

Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Rut, heat, season—Hutao told me.” You shrugged as if the topic was something mundane. “She said you rut every spring, but that it’s unusually strong this year for some reason. Something about the aura around you, I think. Why’s that?”

Because of you.

“Not sure,” Zhongli said.

“She also told me about that tea you drink.”

He nearly dropped his cup of tea. Damn the woman. Spilling all my secrets. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do—he was on her payroll.

“What about it?” he asked, trying for confidence.

“Lily bulb tea,” you continued, scrutinizing his cup, “apparently it helps calm you down and dampens the urge to fuck.”

Zhongli’s dick hardened.

“So does it?”

“What?”

“The tea. Does it help with your urges?” You jerked your head at the drink, curious.

Not when you’re around.

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but finally decided on: “Not really.”

You cocked your head to the side and bit your lips, Zhongli’s eyes following the pink tongue that peeked through. He wanted to bite them too. They’d be soft and break easily with a little bit of teeth—like almond tofu.

“Oh. Then what’re you going to do about it?”

“The usual.” Tea, masturbating, some rough fucking. Archons knew he’d need it tonight—some sort of distraction from you. He’d have to visit Madame Fang for an escort. She was used to his proclivities—would have someone able to take him.

“The usual? And what would that be?” Zhongli could almost picture you with a pen and paper in hand, a student eager for information.

He groaned internally. Now he was imagining you in a short skirt, stockings, maybe thigh highs—the fat of your thighs spilling from the top of the elastic. The image nearly had him spilling in his pants.

“I don’t think you’d want to know the particulars,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. He shifted again. “It might scare an innocent little girl like you.”

“Innocent?” You huffed. “Little? I’m a grown adult xiangsheng! I’m over the legal age—and actually much more than that. You can hardly call me little or innocent.”

“But you are,” he said indulgently, as one would towards a spoiled pet. “I am immortal, have fought and survived the Archon War. Tell me, pet, can you say the same?”

He was playing with you. Of course the two of you knew you couldn’t compare to him.

“But at the very least, you cannot consider me innocent. I’ve experienced enough things,” you muttered, annoyed.

Zhongli arched an eyebrow.

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you onto the desk in one fluid motion—papers scattering to the floor like spring pollen. Zhongli pinned your hands over your head to keep you in place, and knocked your legs apart to slot his large frame between you.

“W-What’re you doing, Zhongli?”

He smiled. And there it was: his name always slipped out when you got serious.

Xiansheng.

What?

Xiansheng. He moved closer, spreading your legs further apart as he drew closer to you. You could feel your stomach pressing tightly against the cotton of your suit with each breath, your chest straining against buttons. Don’t be so impolite when your boss is trying to school you.

Xiansheng.

Good girl, he rumbled. You were so curious about the specifics of my rut—what I do to satiate my needs. Shall I show you? They say firsthand experience is the best way to learn.

His voice was heavy, hot against your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he darted a tongue out to lick the delicate shell of your ear.

So sensitive. I wonder if it’s the same in other places. Shall we find out?

Hutao had ordered him to be careful with you—a family friend. Your family owned the most successful funeral parlor in Mondstat, and they sent you to Hutao to learn how she conducted her business in Liyue. Zhongli had agreed. He could keep his hands to himself.

But then you showed up on the steps of Wansheng funeral parlor, and he knew he was fucked.

Do you want it, he whispered, I need to rut, but I always ask for permission.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. He’d done it with others—for decades, maybe even centuries, and it made sense, you couldn’t expect celibacy from him and yet…the thought of other people touching him made you want to rake your hands down his back, gouge, and suck every inch of his skin so others would know he was taken.

That he was yours.

What will it be, pet?

You nodded, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was big. It was obvious, and it’d probably hurt. A tight fit.

Zhongli smiled—sharp teeth, predatory. I need words.

Yes.

No sooner did you give your permission did he slip your blazer off your shoulders and loosen just enough buttons to push your blouse up and over your head. You wore cotton—a simple white bra, and he wondered if you wore a matching set today.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out: you were already unzipping your pants, sliding stiff fabric down your legs, uncaring if it wrinkled. You’d have to remember to take it to the cleaners.

But later—now, you canted your hips forward, not caring about anything but the man in front of you.

So needy, he murmured, and wet.

His scent intoxicated you, his weight a delicious pressure against your skin.

Zhongli rocked against your clothed pussy, pleased to find you wet. You soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving an imprint in the shape of your pussy on your panties.

Fuck me, xiangsheng, please—I need it.

The scent of your arousal grew stronger with each tap against the wet spot. Heady, mind-numbing, as if a drug was coursing through his bloodstream. The amber of his hands grew darker, a deep, gorgeous fossilized hue, and his pupils thinned—they slitted into a sharp, almost feline countenance, predator to prey.

You would have me? he asked again, stars pulsing in his eyes. In his earlier days, before he was an archon, he had taken people without knowing what it really meant. The shame and guilt of it had made the act feel dirty for a long time—he went nearly fifty years without a single partner to help him through his ruts.

He would not make the same mistake with you.

Just fuck me.

He groaned, pulled your panties to the side—white cotton—and pushed himself into you, the entire length. It was tight and it burned as you struggled, walls stretching to accommodate his dick.

Feels so good, he grunted, you’re so tight, fuck. He lost himself in your tight heat, centuries of manners and poise melting before you.

He moved slowly at first, dragging his length out so that nothing but the tip remained inside before thrusting back in.

You shifted backward, trying to adjust to him. Soft pants, shallow—eyes squeezed shut to focus on each heavy stroke in and out of your cunt. When you started moving against him, seeking friction for yourself, Zhongli sped up. Kept most of his cock inside you with each stroke, prodding around for your sweet spot.

When he finally found it, earning a cry and squeeze around his cock that nearly made him cum, he smiled. Right there, pet?

You gasped, struggled to answer: Yeah, yeah-right there—

He continued to thrust, imprinting your insides with the shape of his dick, hitting that sensitive spot with almost boyish eagerness, but it still wasn’t enough to—

—You reached down to where his dick is splitting you apart and try to rub your clit, the hard nub aching for attention, but Zhongli pushed your hand away.

Allow me.

You almost whine—denial twisting your stomach into a tight knot, leaving your clit wanting, but he didn’t make you wait long. Deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit, grinding, until it swelled enough for him to pinch, hard.

Zhongli, please—

What did I say pet, he hummed and bit your earlobe in admonishment.

Xian-Xiansheng—

You were begging now, pleading—tears dripping from your face like fresh paint on canvas.

Please, xiansheng, please, I need it.

What do you need? He thrust forward, the head almost kissing your cervix.

Need…

Need what? Use your words, pretty pet. Another hard thrust, this time he touched your cervix. Half pain, half pleasure. Lines slowly starting to blur—was it because of his dick or your tears? You couldn’t tell.

You shook your head and fisted your hands in the collar of his suit, wrinkling the fine material as you dragged his face towards you to claim a kiss. Harsh and unyielding, a faint taste of iron between each ragged breath. Now you’d have to take two suits to the cleaners.

Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you’d forgotten how you even got into this situation in the first place. Something about lily bulb tea, alone time…and ruts…heats. Heat—were you the one in heat or was it him?

But it didn’t matter, all you knew was that:

Need to cum.

Zhongli’s pretty lips curled. And so you shall.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, thick fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly numb from the overstimulation. He felt you tense beneath him, hips rolling incessantly, your cunt gripping him so tightly he knew he was close.

Cum for me, he demanded, almost growling, give it to me.

And you obeyed—gave yourself over to the pleasure, moaning from the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Zhongli groaned as you contracted around him, each tight draw from your pussy taking him closer to his own release. Hips stuttering, he felt his fangs slip through, throbbing from the desire to taste you, bite you, mark you—

—Breed you.

It was messy, each time he pulled back and saw the amount of slick that coated his cock, his mind grew fuzzier, almost stupid. Zhongli couldn’t remember the last time he felt pussydrunk—

You bit the side of his neck as another orgasm ripped out of you, and this time Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, pulling out right as he cummed, thick ropes of sticky cum defiling your stomach. It was dizzyingly maddening: his cum moving with each shaky exhale, dripping onto your pussy, and Zhongli thought it was such a waste that it wasn’t inside you, filling you up. Some of it covered your clit—a glistening pearl. He fought every fiber of his being to not bend down and lick it. He didn’t like sweet things, but you were an exception.

“Did you learn a lot?” he finally asked after your breath had steadied a bit.

You were still coming down from your high, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “What?”

“I was teaching you,” he chuckled, voice husky. “Were you a good student? Paying attention?”

You thought about it for a moment. Looked at his disheveled appearance, his golden eyes, the wrinkles in his suit, and found it lacking.

“Not enough.”

“I am in agreement.”

Hutao narrowed her eyes. “You fucked him.”

“And what if I did? It’s not like you’ll fire me,” you replied lightly.

Hutao groaned. “I knew you wanted to fuck him, but I didn’t think you wanted to do it that badly. It’s not exactly good for my business, and you know he’ll stick to you for the rest of his season, right? That’s how it works for him. He doesn’t share.”

“Well good. Because I don’t either.” You wouldn’t have chosen him anyway if he liked to share. “But wait—what do you mean ‘not exactly good for your business?’”

The Wangsheng Director grinned at you. “Look at him: one of the most eligible bachelors in Liyue. Didn’t you notice that we have a large number of young clients? They come to Wangsheng because of him. I don’t care who Zhongli fucks as long as they give me their money—it keeps my beloved Wangsheng as the most profitable funeral parlor in Liyue.”

“Of course you would say that.” You laughed and thought about all the times your parents praised Hutao. “No wonder my parents sent me here to learn from you.”

Hutao winked. “Of course! Making money is the second best thing I’m good at.”

“What’s the first?”

“Death.”

uhhh i wrote this one about six-ish months ago too...been busy with zine work but hopefully when I'm done I can write more reader insert smut :') (also sorta tried a new style of dialogue lmao back when I wrote this)

Murata, also known as the God of War and the Lady of Fire, was a Pyro Archon and a member of The Seven who presided over Natlan.

先生 - xiānsheng. Has two main definitions: the first is teacher, the second is mister (Mr); gentleman; sir. Both suit Zhongli very well in this fic ;)

Dried lily bulb【百合】 is usually recommended in TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) clinics to treat coughs, dry throats and relieve heat. (But IRL, this doesn’t actually help with the horny feels LOL.) 

Zhongli as Morax has darker brown/amber skin tone on arms, so I chose to depict this in the fic as skin darkening when aroused. I also put a photo of something similar on an actual body. 

[eileenslibrary]

Dainty

Pt.2

Dainty pt. 1

Zhongli x F! Adepti reader

(skin color, body, facial features, and height, are not mentioned in this work of fanfiction, all readers who align with she/her or she/they are welcome)

Warnings: OOC Zhongli, War (Mentioned), Arguments, Nudity, Blood, Death (Mentioned), Fluff

The archon war had passed and Morax had crowned the reigning archon, “Rex, Cloud Retainer sent you something,” you say walking up to him silver tattoos painting your arms and legs he looks over and sees you standing holding a box “Bring it here” he commands you nod, and walk up to him “Thank you” he hums taking the box his golden fingers brushing your hands his gaze holding yours as if testing for your reaction. You just watch him as he opens the box a little nosy, a beautiful rose gold, white, and silver gown sits in the box, “Hmm seems this is for you” he hums with a smirk pulling his lips, you blush “Ah it seems it is” you clear your throat taking the box from him and setting it on a table “While you're over there please bring me some fruit will you?” he sighs “Yes Rex” he looks back at you over his shoulder watching you as you slice the fruit. “Why don’t you try it on?” He requests you still in surprise “As you wish” You finish cutting up the fruit and bring it to him “Thank you” he hums you nod and walk over to the box gently folding the fabric over your arms and looking at the fine silk “I’ll be back in a moment” You announce he hums munching on the fruit, you go into one of the separate rooms of the abode to change, you pull out a slip of paper reading it ‘My dear, (Name) I saw a darling outfit just like this one while visiting Liyue and knew I needed one made for you I hope you enjoy wearing it. I hope you are doing well, come visit me sometime soon.’ You haven't seen her in a while and can’t help but tear up a little bit, slipping the slip on top then adding the rose gold layer on top, puffing out the sleeves a little bit. You walk back to him and see he’s looking expectantly at you his eyes glimmer at you as one of the oil lamps illuminates you at the door of the hallway. He stands his robes fluttering around his legs as he walks to you “I have never seen something as beautiful as you” he whispers when he gets close enough you become bashful when one of his hands touches the waistline of the dress “I could say the same for you Rex” you hum looking back up at him “May I?” he inquires looking down at your lips “You may” you respond, he pulls you into his arms and sweeps you into a warm kiss, one of his warm golden hands holding yours the other rests on the small of your back. He breaks apart from you and rests his forehead on yours “I hope this means you are mine?” he hums keeping his eyes closed “What did you think it meant?” you tease he chuckles and kisses you once again “My, Storm Weaver” he calls your Adepti title, loving the way it rang when paired with his, Morax felt his heart squeeze with content now that you belonged to him.

Years pass and the intertwining of Storm Weaver and Rex Lapis is announced, with a very surprised Ganyu and Cloud Retainer after Retainer was asked to be the officiant who happily married you off to him. And after that, you and your husband were painted in every children's book as restful lovers bound to each other by a contract made thousands of years prior, it was played in operas on occasion and told in every history book of Liyue you could find. And a loving and content marriage, you both sworn to each other among the stars like a tapestry on a wall. But as time ran the dreaded command to destroy Khanriah resonated between each archon but for once you refused, as the Geo Archon fell to his knees as he begged you to understand “I will not listen, you are willing to go and kill innocent people simply because a higher being told you so. Simply because you are scared of humans refusing to believe in something they don’t even know is trustworthyl. I cannot agree, I won’t stop you from doing what you think is the best course of action, but I will not fight this war with you I will stay with my people and defend them when the time comes” You say with the grace you have always held dear. Morax is speechless, for once his wise and weary mind for once at a standstill “Very well then.” And you feel his presence evaporate from your abode “Very well then” you repeat looking up at the sky a solemn drum beating in your chest. 

You ran to your husband when he got home his eyes tired and hollow. You lead him to bathe washing his hair from the grime and blood “I don’t know if this was the right choice” he whispers his eyes like endless pools of uncertainty “Do you regret it?” you inquire letting your hands find his once mighty shoulders, now scratched and tired. You massage the skin and muscle leading up to his neck pressing into the muscles that were stressed and stiff. “I don’t know, but I feel like I might regret it later on” he looks at you “Do you feel like I should regret it?” he asks resting his head on your knees “I think what you did was terrible, they were innocent just like our people are, our people are living their own lives, what is so different about those who don’t follow a god? But I am not in charge of how you feel so you must make that decision on your own time” You press a little harder into his neck once you find a particularly hard knot he groans out in pleasure when you finally get it to release it’s tension, he pulls you into the bath with him making you gasp “Morax!” your robes soaking up the water. He chuckles nuzzling into your shoulder “I missed you, please never leave me alone” he mumbles into your shoulder “I won’t. But it’s my duty as an adeptus to protect Liyue as any other, even if I’m your wife.”

You and Zhongli walk down the streets of Liyue hand in hand, a warm breeze brushes a few strands of your hair into your face, Zhongli swipes it from your face his beautiful eyes looking into yours “Thank you dearest” you hum kissing his cheek “You’re welcome darling” he places a hand on your waist leading you to the Wanmin restaurant to say hi to your sisters and mother. “Hello” You greet wrapping your arms around Shenhe’s shoulders she stiffens up before calming down “You’re here” she hums Xianyun looks up at you both and stands up striding over to you letting you wrap your arms around her “Come sit, the food will be out any minute” she shoos you both to sit down with Ganyu next on your other side as you ll start chattering away “So when are the mini’s of you coming” “MOTHER!”

Hope you enjoyed <3  

[naomeii]

I have an angst to fluff request that's pretty long so I apologize.

Zhongli with a human reader who's his former blacksmith back when he was still an archon. The girl was young but her skills in creating weapons were immaculate so her elder sister sent (more like forced) her to assist him.

Unfortunately, Zhongli was very cold and harsh towards reader even when she tried her best to assist him in any way she can, which caused her to distance herself from him.

The relationship between them ended when she found out that Zhongli kept her sister's murder of her mother, best friend and her (the friend's) husband a secret from her (this was after she killed her sister). Exhausted and furious, she tears into Zhongli who tells her that her friends needed to die in order for her to mature. This angers her even more as she destroys the spear she made for him and leaves.

Sometime during the Archon war, reader ended up getting cursed with longevity during a fight with a god. Many, including Zhongli, thought she had died but unbeknownst to them, she was wandering Tevyat under different aliases.

The two meet again after 500 years when the ex-archon finds her in Liyue. Unsurprisingly, she treats him coldly which upsets him.

The two finally reconcile after reader is saved by Zhongli after nearly dying. When she accuses him of only saving her life just to make himself feel better and tells him he should've just let her die because she's useless to him anyways, this breaks his heart. It's his fault she hates him. It was because if him she lost her loved ones. He breaks down in tears as he apologizes to her for his cruel actions which causes her to cry as well and forgive him. As the two lay in bed together while in each other's arms, the silence that was once sullen was now peaceful and welcoming.

Renewed Souls.

—Pairings: Zhongli x F!Reader

Content : Suicidal themes, character deaths, Angst to Fluff.

The cavernous echoes of the smithy resonated with the rhythmic clanging of metal. Young (Y/n), a skilled blacksmith, meticulously forged weapons under the watchful eye of Morax, the Geo Archon. Her elder sister had insisted that she assist him, hoping to further her skills and gain favour with the powerful deity.

Morax, however, was a stern and cold taskmaster. He rarely acknowledged her efforts, and when he did, it was often accompanied by a disapproving scowl. Despite her earnest attempts to please him, (Y/n) found herself on the receiving end of his harsh criticism.

One day, as she carefully handed him a newly crafted spear, Morax's expression remained indifferent. "Mediocre at best," he remarked coldly. "You still have much to learn."

(Y/n) bit her lip, suppressing the frustration that threatened to boil over. She had poured her heart and soul into her craft, only to be met with relentless criticism.

Weeks turned into months, and the tension between them only grew. Morax's stoic demeanor never wavered, and (Y/n) began to distance herself emotionally from the callous Archon.

The breaking point came when (Y/n) discovered the painful truth about her family's demise. In a fit of rage, she confronted Morax, her eyes blazing with fury. "You knew!" she accused, tears streaming down her face. "You knew what happened to my mother, my best friend, and her husband, and you kept it from me!"

Morax's gaze remained unwavering, his voice steady. "Their deaths were a necessary sacrifice. A step on the path to maturity."

Enraged, (Y/n) couldn't contain her emotions any longer. "Sacrifice? Is that what you call it?" She tore into him, expressing the anguish that had festered within her. "You played puppet master with my life, and for what? To mold me into your idea of a mature servant?"

Her hands trembled as she clutched the spear she had painstakingly crafted for Morax. "I won't be a part of this any longer!" With a swift and powerful motion, she shattered the weapon against the cold stone floor.

The once-immaculate spear now lay broken, mirroring the fractured relationship between the blacksmith and the Geo Archon. (Y/n) turned on her heel, leaving the workshop and Morax behind.

Morax just stood there, like a statue, watching (Y/n) storm out of the workshop. His expression remained unmoved, but a flicker of something, perhaps regret, crossed his eyes. He didn't bother to chase after her or offer any words of consolation.

As the door swung shut, Morax was left alone amidst the remnants of shattered metal and fractured trust. The weight of his decisions hung in the air, and for a moment, the stoic facade he always wore seemed to crack ever so slightly. Yet, he made no move to follow her, letting her footsteps fade into the distance.

The workshop, once filled with the sounds of creation, now echoed with the haunting silence of a connection irreparably broken. Morax, the Geo Archon, remained alone, surrounded by the wreckage of a bond he had callously allowed to unravel.

The chaos of the Archon War had gripped Teyvat, and (Y/n) found herself caught in the crossfire during a skirmish with a vengeful god. In the midst of the battle, a malevolent curse was cast upon her, a dark magic that twisted the fabric of time and granted her an unintended boon—immortality.

As the curse took hold, (Y/n) felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, but it came at a cost. The battle raged on, and the once-familiar faces of her comrades blurred into a chaotic maelstrom. Morax, witnessing the apparent demise of his former blacksmith, felt a pang of regret deep within.

In the midst of the chaos, (Y/n) was enveloped in an ethereal glow, her form disappearing from the battlefield. The onlookers, including Morax, believed her to be lost to the cruel grip of the war. Unbeknownst to them, (Y/n) was trapped in a strange state between life and death, her consciousness suspended in an eternal limbo.

The first time she awoke, disoriented and alone, she realized that her surroundings had changed. Teyvat looked both familiar and alien, the passage of time evident in the shifting landscapes. (Y/n) moved through the ages under different aliases, trying to make sense of her cursed existence.

In one era, she roamed as a wandering scholar, sharing her knowledge with those she encountered. In another, she assumed the guise of a skilled artisan, creating masterpieces that would be remembered for centuries. The people she met came and went, their lives fleeting in comparison to her perpetual existence.

Through the ages, Morax continued to mourn the loss of (Y/n), unaware that she still existed in the shadows, watching the world evolve without her. The once-mighty Archon became more introspective, haunted by the memories of the blacksmith he had pushed away during the earlier days of the war.

(Y/n) continued to wander Teyvat, her heart heavy with the weight of the curse that bound her to an unending journey. The war raged on, gods clashed, and nations rose and fell, all while she remained an unseen observer, cursed to witness the passage of time without truly living.

The market in Liyue hummed with activity as (Y/n), now cloaked in a hooded robe, moved through the crowd. Her physical appearance had remained remarkably unchanged over the centuries, but the passage of time had etched a rugged resilience into her features. Her eyes, however, retained a sharpness that betrayed the wisdom and weariness of her immortal existence.

Zhongli, the ex-Archon once known as Morax, had been quietly observing the market, as was his habit in the mortal realm. His keen gaze caught a glimpse of (Y/n) amidst the throng, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes—could it really be her after all these years?

With a newfound determination, Zhongli trailed her through the market, weaving through the lively vendors and animated chatter. As he approached, (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her senses, honed by centuries of survival, detected the persistent presence behind her.

Finally, Zhongli caught up, his voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and hope. "Excuse me, miss. Might I have a moment of your time?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

(Y/n) stiffened, recognising the voice that echoed from a distant past. She turned to face him, her hood casting shadows over her features. "I have no time for idle chatter," she replied coldly, her eyes narrowing.

Zhongli persisted, determined to bridge the gap that had grown between them over centuries. "I sense a familiarity in your aura. Have we met before?"

(Y/n) scoffed, her patience wearing thin. "I've met many in my long existence. Your attempts at recognition are futile. Now, leave me be."

Zhongli, undeterred, continued to follow her, his gaze filled with a quiet desperation. He couldn't shake the feeling that she held the key to a past he had long buried. As they neared the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) sought refuge within its walls, hoping to escape the persistent presence behind her.

Days passed, and Zhongli lingered outside the inn, compelled by an unspoken connection that transcended time. Eventually, he approached her again, hoping for a chance to mend the fractures that had widened between them.

"(Y/n)," he began, using her name from a time when they were closer. "I know you recognize me. Please, let me explain."

(Y/n), her patience exhausted, turned to face him one final time. "Explain? What's there to explain, Morax? You abandoned your godhood, changed your name, and left everything behind. Why should I care about the reasons now? You mean nothing to me."

Zhongli took a breath, ready to speak, but before he could utter a single word, (Y/n) cut him off with a cold and resolute tone.

"I'm not here for apologies, Morax," she interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "I'm here for supplies, nothing more. Once I'm done, I'll be on my way. Don't bother following me or trying to explain. There's nothing left to say."

Zhongli, though pained by her harsh words, nodded in silent acknowledgment. He watched as (Y/n) disappeared into the bustling inn, her figure framed by the doorway. The weight of centuries lingered in the air, and Zhongli remained outside, grappling with the consequences of choices made long ago.

Once alone in the quiet confines of her room at the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) finally allowed the facade of strength to crumble. The weight of centuries pressed down on her, and the pain she had endured for so long spilled over. The tears, held back for centuries, now flowed freely, each drop carrying the anguish of a life that seemed unending.

She sank to her knees, the room silent except for the soft sobs that wracked her body. The weight of loss, betrayal, and the relentless march of time bore down on her, and for a moment, the eternal wanderer felt the crushing weight of her existence.

"I can't take it anymore," she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible through the tears. "I just want it to end."

The memories of her mother, her dear friend, and the life that had been stolen from her replayed in her mind like a haunting melody. The curse of immortality, once a twisted gift, now felt like an unbearable burden.

As the pain intensified, (Y/n) wished for an end to the ceaseless journey, a respite from the loneliness that had become her constant companion. Her cries echoed in the solitude of the room, a desperate plea to a world that seemed indifferent to her suffering.

In the midst of her despair, (Y/n) yearned for reconciliation with those she had lost. The ache for the warmth of a mother's embrace and the laughter of a dear friend intensified. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison echoing with the tormented cries of a soul burdened by the weight of time.

The next day dawned, and (Y/n) moved through the city as if the emotional tempest of the previous night had never occurred. It was her last day in Liyue, and she wandered to a nearby hill, a silent witness to her internal turmoil.

As she stood on the precipice, contemplating the abyss below, the wind whispered tales of countless moments lost to time. In a moment of despair, she let herself fall, surrendering to the void that beckoned. However, just as the precipice became an inevitability, a strong hand gripped her wrist, halting her descent.

Startled, (Y/n) looked up to see Zhongli, his expression a mix of concern and desperation. Accusations formed on her lips, and she spat them out with venom.

"You saved me just to make yourself feel better, didn't you?" she accused, her eyes reflecting the pain that lingered from centuries past. "You should've just let me die. I'm useless to you, just like back then."

Zhongli's grip tightened, but not in restraint. It was a desperate attempt to anchor her to the present. "No, (Y/n), it's not like that. I never meant—"

"Meant? You never appreciated anything I did. You hid the truth about the demise of my loved one just in the name of 'maturity'!" Her words cut through the air, a bitter reminder of the scars he had left on her soul.

Zhongli's eyes welled with tears, the weight of his past actions crashing down on him. "I… I'm sorry," he choked out, the words heavy with regret.

Her anger gave way to a profound sadness, and she felt the tears welling up again. "You should've just let me die in peace," she whispered, her voice a fragile echo of the pain etched into her being.

Zhongli's facade crumbled, and tears streamed down his face. "I never should've treated you that way. It's my fault you hate me. My fault you went through so muc."

As the truth hung heavy in the air, (Y/n) felt a profound exhaustion. The anger, the pain, the centuries of carrying the weight of betrayal—it all seemed too much. Zhongli fell to his knees beside her, reaching out to her in a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice breaking. "I never realized the pain I caused you."

(Y/n) hesitated, her heart torn between the desire for retribution and the weariness of carrying the burden of hatred. Finally, she sighed, the weight of centuries evident in her eyes.

"I'm tired," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. As she finally leaned on him, Zhongli wrapped his arms around her, offering the solace of a shared pain.

"I know, (Y/n)," he murmured, his own tears mingling with hers. "I know."

Days turned into nights, and (Y/n) found herself lingering in Liyue, the city that had been both the stage for her past pain and the unexpected chapter of reconciliation. The wounds of centuries slowly began to heal, stitched together by a newfound understanding and a shared vulnerability.

One evening, as the moon cast a gentle glow through the window, (Y/n) and Zhongli lay side by side, their bodies close yet hearts still mending. The silence that had once been sullen and heavy was now transformed into a peaceful and welcoming embrace.

Zhongli spoke first, his voice carrying the weight of remorse and sincerity. "I never imagined it would come to this," he admitted, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her hand.

(Y/n) sighed, her eyes fixed on the moonlit sky beyond the window. "Neither did I. Centuries of pain and resentment, and now... it feels like a weight has been lifted."

Zhongli nodded, his gaze lingering on her. "I never wanted to be the cause of your suffering. I can't change the past, but I can be better in the present."

(Y/n) turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and forgiveness. "Maybe we can find a way to move forward together. A new beginning, of sorts."

[sailorstar9]

Thanks to Berri (https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk), I've decided to create a masterlist.

Blue Lock (Chigiri Hyoma X Reader) With Sisters Like This… When Dealing With An Unreasonable Contractor… Betrayed By The Cousin, F/N Does This… Stealing F/N's Boyfriend Was The Last Straw Running Into The Ex-girlfriend At The School Reunion Sister Snatched My Fiancé, Now She's Stunned I'm With Someone Way Better Love of A Lifetime He Betrayed F/N Before The Wedding, So She Chose His Rival Be Her New Husband Right Away

(Mikage Reo X Reader) After Being Cheated, I Changed My Groom Into A Man Who Shocked Everyone (Otoya Eita X Reader) He Betrayed F/N Before The Wedding, So She Chose His Rival Be Her New Husband Right Away After Eloping, He Regretted. When He Saw F/N's New Ring, He Begged Her To Throw It. F/N Just Said: You've Been Out (Yukimiya Kenyu X Reader) After Eloping, He Regretted. When He Saw F/N's New Ring, He Begged Her To Throw It. F/N Just Said: You've Been Out She Rushes Into Their Wedding And Ready To Snatch F/N's Husband. Unexpectedly, He Said, "Are You On The Wrong Set?"

Genshin Impact (Mondstadt) (Diluc Ragnvindr X Reader) Your Best Friend's Jealousy My Husband Has A Female Childhood Friend, And Their Relationship Is So Close They Sleep in the Same Bed My Childhood Friend Who Stole My Fiancé Tried to Do The Same Thing Again

(Liyue) (Yip Gaming X Reader) After the Car Accident, F/N's Husband Chose to Save His First Love, Leaving Her to Die My Fiancé Gave Me the Silent Treatment for 3 Years but Proposed to His First Love; I Just Laughed (Xiao X Reader) Xiao Kissed Lumine, Called It a Game, Until This Game Led F/N to Spend the Night with Kinich (Zhongli X Reader) My Stepsister Seduces My Husband, But What She Doesn’t Know Is That… Cheating Ex Regrets After F/N Had Married Another Man My Childhood Friend Who Stole My Fiancé Tried to Do The Same Thing Again F/N's Husband's Ex Wore A Wedding Dress And Proposed to Him At The Wedding. Zhongli's Response Shocked Everyone Step-Sister Plotted To Marry F/N To A Scumbag, Now She's Stunned F/N Married Someone Way Better

(Inazuma) (Gorou X Reader) F/N's Boyfriend Had a Wedding with His First Love, So She Reconciled with Her First Love (Sumeru) (Sethos X Reader) She Scratched F/N's Face, But F/N's Boyfriend Yelled: "She's dying! Why Are You Still Holding A Grudge?" (Fontaine) (Lyney X Reader) Lyney Brought Lumine and Told F/N to Learn from Her, Not to Be Like a Block of Wood Cheating Ex Regrets After F/N Had Married Another Man

(Natlan) (Kinich X Reader) After the Car Accident, F/N's Husband Chose to Save His First Love, Leaving Her to Die F/N's Boyfriend Had a Wedding with His First Love, So She Reconciled with Her First Love Xiao Kissed Lumine, Called It a Game, Until This Game Led F/N to Spend the Night with Kinich Lyney Brought Lumine and Told F/N to Learn from Her, Not to Be Like a Block of Wood She Scratched F/N's Face, But F/N's Boyfriend Yelled: "She's dying! Why Are You Still Holding A Grudge?" My Fiancé Gave Me the Silent Treatment for 3 Years but Proposed to His First Love; I Just Laughed

(Snezhnaya) (Tartaglia/Childe/Ajax X Reader) F/N's Groom Called F/N's Sister's Name During The Wedding Vow, F/N Threw Bouquet And Changed The Groom To His Cousin

Outlander (Lumine) Xiao Kissed Lumine, Called It a Game, Until This Game Led F/N to Spend the Night with Kinich Lyney Brought Lumine and Told F/N to Learn from Her, Not to Be Like a Block of Wood Cheating Ex Regrets After F/N Had Married Another Man

(Liyue) (Morax X Reader) As Fate Has It… Part One, Part Two (Fontaine) (Neuvillette X Reader) As Fate Has It… Part Two

Crossover (Chigiri X Ami) Boundaries: Main Story Plot Synopsis, Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter 4 One-Shot They Are In Love, Your Honor (Nagi)

[lillaluna]

you ask him to masturbate himself, and you look at it

Pairing: Neuvillette, Kaeya, Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Wriothesley, Pantalone x f!Reader

Tags: nsfw (mdni!), masturbate

ZHONGLI

At first, he will be very puzzled by this request, but after careful thought, he will decide that there has never been such an experience in his long life and with whom to indulge in these experiments, if not with you. Morax will sit in front of you in a chair and spread his legs apart, he will immediately start seeing your naked body and attentive, impatient gaze. Looking at how much you are absorbed in his actions, Zhongli will almost immediately put even the slightest doubt about this idea aside, and later, even in such a situation, it will be clear that in some non-verbal way he already owns you and your mind, and now you need to make efforts that why not jump on his standing and wet cock.

CHILDE

This guy will enthusiastically accept your offer, but the moment he sits comfortably on the bed, he will be visited by the idea that jerking off just like that is not interesting. Therefore, he will offer you some kind of competition in which you will both please yourself with your hands in front of each other, and whoever finishes first will lose. You readily agree. Throughout the whole action, you will have to shush Childe several times, who stretched out his playful fingers to you, almost unable to resist and not put you in a dog pose to fuck.

DILUC

How much shyness was in this man's eyes when you suggested this idea. He sincerely did not understand why you should see him in such a, in his opinion, unmanly state, to which you almost choked with indignation. You explained to him that you wanted to see how he enjoys fantasizing about you, how it all starts, and how it ends when he comes. In the end, Diluc, of course, as always, succumbs to your persuasions, but asks you to help him relax a little. You gladly agree and reach out yourself to stroke his soft cock, which begins to harden in a second.

AYATO

Actually, you just wanted to make fun of him by giving him such an idea, but to your surprise, your boyfriend accepted it very cheerfully, and immediately sat you down on his desk for a better view, and he sat down in his upholstered work chair. Because of his zeal, you started to get a little embarrassed, mumbling something under your breath, that actually, it was a joke, and you just want him, to which Ayato laughed softly, and then stroked his already hard cock through the light leg of his trousers. You bit your lip and hid your face in your hands, so your man decided to help you relax. He got up from his seat and knelt in front of you, diving into the depths of your kimono to kiss the inside of your thighs.

KAEYA

You and he often practice different experiments. He was your first man who gladly took on the role of your teacher and guide to the world of seduction and sex. He was very surprised when you brought up the idea of watching him jerk off in front of you, but surprised in the nicest way. He will pleasure himself as if he wants to please you even through such actions. He will moan, say dirty words and comment on how he would enter you right now.

NEUVILLETTE

Monsieur had to approach this request very gently. As with any intimacy in your relationship in general. He was very hesitant because he did not understand whether he understood the signals coming from you correctly, and then whether he was doing everything right. You were the first to kiss him, you touched his body too, you talked openly about sex, and now… Standing naked in front of him, you unbuttoned his clothes, with trembling lips saying your desire. In the moonlight, you saw him swallow convulsively, looking deep into your eyes, his palm clenched tightly, and after you unbuttoned his trousers, he kissed your knuckles and assured you that if you wanted something, he was ready to obey you and trusted you.

WRIOTHESLEY

Your sex life with Wriothesley has always been very intense, and it's worth mentioning here that your relationship began after sex, at the back entrance of one of Fontaine's taverns. Now you were lying on your back breathing heavily and smiling blissfully after the orgasm. Wriothesley was lying next to you and thoughtfully circled your nipple. Suddenly you said that you were having so much sex that Wriothesley probably stopped jerking off altogether, but the guy seriously replied that he does it at least 5 times a week. You giggled that you'd like to see it. Well… the Duke of Meropides shouldn't be told twice. He immediately loomed over you, and began to drive his soft penis, which soon began to harden, over your labia, and then masturbate himself, teasing you.

PANTALONE

He is someone who is used to having his wishes fulfilled unconditionally because he pays handsomely for them. If he needs a blowjob, sex, masturbation… One has only to stutter, as there will be a crowd of girls ready to fulfill his every wish. However, with your appearance in his life, everything has completely changed. And now, you haven't even let yourself be touched, insisting for a week that he masturbate himself in front of you, partly because he loved it when you use toys on yourself during your sex. What was left for Pantaloon? He sat down on the leather sofa, spreading his legs wide and releasing his painfully aroused penis from his trousers. You sat down opposite him and taking off one of your netted gloves told him that he should continue and if you liked it, you would be naked by the time he finished.

DOTTORE

Should he be asked for such things? Of course not! He's always ready, just give him a hint, or maybe handcuffs are better for you so that you can't touch yourself while he jerks off his cock, moans and bites his lips with his pointed teeth? Dottore is always full of ideas for experiments, so this little prank of yours amused him rather than drove him into a stupor. He is very proud of his penis size, and knows that you are crazy about him, so he will let you watch as he languidly moves his fist up and down his penis, not giving you the opportunity to touch it until you beg with tears in your eyes.

[aimfor-theheart]

|| zhongli x afab!reader || E/18+ || smut/a touch of angst/comfort || wc: 7k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

You have never been patient enough for worship. Sometimes, he thinks you always expect to be scorned or feared or hated. As a god of hunger, you are not beloved or worshiped by many, if any at all.

You’ve never known the sort of worship that he gives you. 

✧ meet fruit collab masterlist ✧

a/n: this is apart of @willowser 's house server summer collab, meet fruit!! i took plums as my prompt!! this really got away from me and i had a lot of fun with this dynamic and i WILL be writing more of godly wife!reader and zhongli. i have a whole backstory. a huge massive fic i shouldn't work on but will fjdkslfdk i also need to give a special thanks to @itoshisoup , @lorelune , and @petrichorium for helping me with brainstorming and riffing earlier! also finding some godly names for the reader! in particular, mao came up with the name Tanai Zhenjun, which i will leave a note at the end about!! i hope you enjoy this sweet taste!! thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts <333

tags: afab!reader referred to as wife, and has several godly titles that mortals have called her, etc., a complicated relationship between zhongli and reader, mentions of past fights/canon typical violence, erotic fruit eating and feeding, finger sucking, biting, oral sex (f!recieving), some over stimulation, praise, maybe a little sex pollen because the reader causes feelings of hunger/lust/etc. but its consensual and zhongli can withstand it if he wanted, scratching, unhealthy godly dynamics, let me know if i missed anything!

In the shadows of his home, he would know you anywhere. 

(He would know you even if you didn’t appear to him like this, fully formed, and in the visage of mortals. He’d know you in the thunder and the wolves’ howl. He’d know you in autumn’s bitter wind and the fox’s cry. Across all of time, he’d know you.) 

You slip, serpentine, slow and with the easy grace of a predator into the last falling light of the sun; bronzed, honeyed, and appearing before him like you did decades ago, perhaps a hundred of years ago. 

Has it been so long already? 

The sight of you–perhaps simply you, yourself, spark an ache in his chest. Fierce. Hunger pains. 

And after all these years, he welcomes it, savors the pit in his stomach like a sweet fruit. 

You, his god of hunger. 

You, his divine wife. 

He tips his head back, leaning further into the chair at his deep, mahogany desk, as if he could fix his eyes to better see you. As if he could take in more of you, somehow, greedily, hungirly. 

“Hello, my Morax.” You hum and the sun catches in your eye as you step into his life again, after so long without. 

“Hello, my love.” He responds, as if it could’ve just been yesterday.

As if you are his wife and you’ve come home to greet him. As if he is your husband and he’s been working all day without you. 

“It’s been a long time,” he says then, “you’ve been away a long time.” 

You meander closer, on the other side of his desk, peering at the scrolls and papers there. His hands are stained in ink. He catches the downturn of your lips, the small quirking of them in displeasure. Such mortal things, he can hear your voice, the little hiss you get when you dislike something. 

But then your eyes roam to the bowl of fruit, now untouched, that had been brought to him in hopes of eating;

Slices of plum, gold and orange and tender on the inside, their moon-dark skins still curved to them. One still has the pit attached to it, carefully nestled within its flesh. 

Plums always remind him of you. 

(In truth, anything with pits, with bones, with something that can be picked clean and left behind reminds him of you.) 

In an instant, your fingers, nimble–adorned with his jewels, the jewels of his earth, snag a slice.

He watches as you sink your teeth into it, juice bursting, caught on your lip. 

You chew only a moment, swallow slowly as you watch him. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed around Liyue Harbor,” you begin, “I thought I wasn’t allowed around your precious mortals.” 

His voice, low and soft, rumbles in affirmation. “Yes, that is true.” 

“And yet you speak to me like I’m welcome.” You hold the last bite of your slice to your lips, speaking against it, “like I should’ve visited sooner.” 

You bear down into the fruit again. 

“You’ve come to pick a fight?” He asks, “I can feel you’re trying to stir trouble.” 

And it's true; your ability as a god of hunger, to spark it in others. To sharpen and change it from starvation to bloodlust to desire to despair to greed–to any form of hunger. 

You caused whole towns to be decimated, driven mad with just the residuals of you, the feeling of you too near, like a wraith haunting their doorway. You turned tides in the Archon war for him and against him. You have always been one of the biggest threats to Liyue’s peace—to the world. Perhaps even beyond.

You perch on the corner of his desk prettily. 

“I can’t visit my husband?” You purr.

He quirks a brow, “you only ever call me husband when you’re trying to kill me.”

Your grin is a wild slip of excitement, a fissure of heat in the clash of your gazes.

“I am trying to kill you,” you agree, but perhaps you have always been trying to kill him. The battles between you two carved the very land of Liyue and at the end of them, no matter what had transpired, he was still your husband. And you, his wife. “But I don’t feel like fighting tonight.” 

You pluck another slice of plum from the bowl and bring it to your mouth. He watches your lips part to take the fruit in again. 

He thinks of replacing your hand with his own. He thinks of the sticky sweet taste he would find if he licked into your mouth, he thinks of being between your teeth again like the little piece of plum.  

Something inside of him yawns open. 

You’re toying with him. 

“You’re in rare form, then.” he hums and does not deny your draw. He has long since stopped trying not to be swept up in you–he realized it was inevitable at some point. You would always pull at parts of him none of the world had, and like a puppeteer did you play with those strings. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

You gaze down at him, almost lovingly, if he didn’t know better. 

Then you shift slightly, adjust yourself. 

And the first touch he has of you in decades, perhaps a century, is just a brushing of your calf against his forearm from where you sit atop his desk. Your bare skin beneath the pooling silks of your skirts. 

Heat rips through him like a tearing wound. 

His gaze flicks up to yours. 

“Did you know I was in Liyue?” You ask. 

“I always know the moment you enter my land again.” 

I always know the moment you come home. 

You shift your leg again, this time, a steadier press to his arm. 

He can’t help himself–he shifts his arm, opens his palm up against the curve of your bare calf to fully feel you, to hold you, in any minute way you might let him. Rough calluses scrape up  against the soft skin of your leg, the silk of your dress pooling around his arm, cool and like spun moonlight. 

You let him hold you like this, curl against the contour of you. His hand moves, dips down almost to your ankle, and back up to the bend of your knee. 

“You missed me,” you accuse, your voice a teasing lilt. 

Perhaps it’s you and the heady rush you cast on a room, on him, “yes,” he agrees honestly, “I always do.” 

“So sentimental in your old age. You’ve spent too long around these mortals.” You tell him, looking away so all you give him is the profile of your lovely face. The upward tilt of your chin, the haughty way you look down your nose. 

“Did you miss me?” He asks and he isn’t looking for you to placate him, but his hand is broad and inching up the back of your thigh. He pulls at you, urges you to the edge of the desk, where his other hand fits around the curve of your waist. 

“Don’t get greedy,” you chastise gently, but you still go with the pull of his hold. 

You slip into his lap like you were always meant to be there, fitting to him the way the moon fits into the sky, or the land against the sea. It’s an ancient feeling, bone deep, soul-cut. 

You let your arms fall around his neck loosely and to have you again in his embrace, after so long, does in fact, make him feel greedy. 

“I can feel it,” he says instead, perhaps just to spite you a little–to move another piece in this eternal chess game with you. “I can feel how you ache. I can feel the way you missed me.” 

“I always feel like that,” you snip, deft fingers slipping the band in his hair out so that it all falls free, loose and flowing over his shoulders in a wave of inky black. “I am always hungry like that.” 

“No,” he says and his voice is low like a wolf’s growling, a tiger’s purr, “I know your hunger. And I know this hunger of yours. You missed me.” 

“If you’re looking for a heartfelt confession, you won’t find it in me.” You tell him, proud little god that you’ve always been, “perhaps you’ll find it in your precious mortals.” 

Your voice takes on an edge, just shy of a sneer.

He laughs, a low rumble from his chest, amused, and pleased.

“Oh, that jealousy of yours. I missed that, too.” 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” you hiss like an asp and now, he worries you’ll bring your claws out. Your eyes glint in the last rays of light, like a bolt of lightning, like a spark of flame in a cold night.

He reaches up to touch your face, thumb sweeping over the arc of your jaw bone in a possessive hold. He forces you to look at him. “Come now, I thought you said you weren’t in the mood for a fight.”

“Then don’t test me.” You snap.

He fights back another fond smile in order to not test you further than he already has. 

He leans closer, his nose almost nudging against yours, “if you’re not here to fight. What are you here for?” 

“To eat through all your land until it is barren again.” You murmur and he knows it is just to pester him. Your fingers are winding in his long, silky hair and your eyes have gone half-lidded, so he knows you are not nearly as waspish as you’re pretending to be.

“If I could satiate your hunger, I would.” He murmurs darkly, lips brushing against yours as you carefully hold yourself back, a dog on a strained leash. At your best, you have always been a caged beast, pacing and desperate for escape. At your worst, you have been nothing short of desolation, teeth upon the earth in a vicious grasp, shaking hard, tearing it to shreds. Your bite never compared to your bark. You’d threaten destruction and deliver devastation; even you, surprised with your own vitriol, your own capability for demolition. 

He threatened to muzzle you once, long ago. 

You rear back slightly to look at him, “no, you wouldn’t. What would you have me be? Content?” 

He laughs softly again, low and warm, terribly fond of you despite it all, “yes,” he says very frankly, and then, “soothed, for once in your life.” 

“I won’t ever be soothed while you walk this earth.” You tell him and he cannot tell if you mean it with vengeance or with love. Are you being romantic? Or threatening him? Sometimes, he felt that your violence was supposed to be more like a kiss, and your kiss the type of violence that leaves him ruined for decades after. 

“And you would be after?” He asks, “I don’t think you’d know what to do if you finally managed to kill me in a meaningful capacity. You’d be bored.” 

You move to pull away from him with a snarl but he fastens his hold onto you tighter to get you to stay, he touches your face again, coaxing. “I only tease you.” 

“I said don’t test me.” You respond, but again, there is nothing nearly so vicious in you tonight. 

No, he knows the hunger in you tonight is a soft creature, a warbling, tender one. He’ll be kind to it, he will feed it and tend to it, even if he knows it will only grow larger still. Like caring for a tiger cub, only for it to grow into all those teeth and muscles, to bite the hand that fed it. 

“Forgive me,” he rumbles, and this time, he angles your head so that he can skim the strong line of his nose against your jaw, “let me make it up to you.” 

“You will not be able to,” you say indignantly and his own smile now feels sharper with the challenge, with your throat so near. He settles himself into a burning kiss against your pulse. Inside of him, something catches and sparks. Your hands curl around the muscles of his shoulders. 

“I know,” he coos, low and soft, almost sympathetic. “Then at least indulge the hunger you’ve caused in me.” 

This, in the least, you settle into. 

He pulls away barely to sit back, to look at you fully in all of your glory a moment. 

You look back at him, perhaps taking him in as well. 

The smoldering turns into a flame. 

The decades of years unspool inside of him and give way to a racing mind, images of what he wants, how he wants you. 

It is always like this, he thinks, eternally, desiring you, and never getting enough.

He thinks he must know how you feel. 

And then he gives into one of several of his desires that are rearing their large, horned heads inside of him. The beasts of his desire are all chained to you, he thinks. He reaches for the bowl of fruit. 

Perhaps it's your turn to be amused as he brings a slice of plum to your lips. You must know how he was looking at you earlier, you must know his desires if you are the one to stoke them. 

Still, you accept the fruit easily, minding your teeth as his finger slips against your lips. Sticky and soft and warm. You draw his finger into your mouth briefly, closing around it. He can feel the edges of your teeth as he pulls it out. 

The moment you swallow around the piece, he surges up to kiss you. 

To finally kiss you. 

He wishes he could call it something of a greeting or reunion, but it is too desperate and too vicious for that. Your teeth click together, coming up against one another, like an old key coming up against a lock. 

He tastes the plum in your mouth, sweet and a little tart, and can’t help the groan that rumbles out of him. 

Your hands disappear into his hair, tangle in the strands so that he can feel the press of your nails against his scalp. He feels the way you arch into the slide of his hands along your torso, bending to them, as if he is a sculptor. It pulls you closer, opens your hips wider in his lap in a way that makes heat rip through him.

When he pulls away, you’re already hazy-eyed, heady with the quick-burn of this sort of hunger, this lust. 

It pulls at him like the tide on the shore to drag him under. 

This time, when he places his lips to your throat, he sinks into a bite at the tender flesh there. 

Sometimes, he wishes he’d treat you more tenderly. As if that might be all you ever needed; more gentleness, and less teeth at your throat. 

But you arch and from your mouth spills your own moan finally, fingers tightening in his hair as if to hold him there. He feels your hips twitch forward, into him, an aborted rock of them, perhaps unknowingly or subconscious.

He wishes you inspired patience in him. 

(Usually, he claims to have a great deal. Unfortunately, he cannot claim the same with you in his arms again. Forgive me, he thinks again, but I haven’t seen you in nearly a century.) 

He stands suddenly with you still wrapped around his waist, hands fit beneath your thighs to lift you and place you on the broad expanse of his desk. Papers get pushed aside, some topple onto the floor in a fluttering mess. You laugh when the bowl of plums rattle precariously, but his mouth covers yours again, and he swallows the sound eagerly. 

He kisses you hard again, hitching your hips up to fit snugly to his, fitting his broad hands over the curves of your waist. You respond in kind, though, and twine your leg around his waist to pull him closer, arch your back to press your chest up to his.

When he pulls away this time, he takes you in, splayed out beneath him. 

“I did miss you,” he gets out roughly.

“Then show me,” you respond, stretching out beneath him, as if to tempt him. 

His hands move over the silk of your dress, bunching parts of it, tangling it. He decides in an instant that he doesn’t actually wish to deal with it, so he sets his hands on the bust and simply pulls. It tears like paper beneath him. And again, you laugh, amused with him now, with what you do to him.

“So impatient.” 

“It’s been a long time, my love.” 

And this time when he kisses you, perhaps you give into him more, feed what he wants. You mewl into his mouth, arch against him, drag your nails down his covered back. 

“Touch me,” you get out, demanding, a little fussy. 

“So impatient.” He mocks dryly. 

For his trouble, you pull harshly on the hair at the nape of his neck, baring his throat to you. 

His broad palm roams up the expanse of your side, your bare stomach, and to your chest. He cups your breast, thumb brushing against the peak in a way that makes you hum and squirm beneath him eagerly. 

You bury your face in his now exposed neck, nudge your nose there, which turns into your warm, open mouth. 

For a moment, surprisingly gentle, until he feels the quick flash of pain from your teeth. He rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger with a little more pressure than necessary, just to hear the little noise of pain you make. 

He drops his face to the crux of your chest, lips dragging along the skin there, above your beating heart. And for all your bite and bark, you still offer yourself up to him for the taking. You still draw your hands over his shoulders, pushing at the clothes still on him. He doesn’t indulge you, but draws lower, hair spilling over your chest as his mouth opens against your breast. 

He nips and marks, sets his teeth against the tender flesh and sucks a bruise into you. 

“I miss your sharp teeth,” you admit.

He huffs, breath fanning against your skin. He raises his eyes, molten gold, to meet your own, “there’s no pleasing you.” 

And then he captures the bud of your breast in his mouth and at least manages to pull another sound from you, meandering, growing in your own desire. You squirm beneath him again but something inside of him (old and draconic) blinks its eyes open and he seizes your waist to still you the way a predator subdues their prey, sharply, and with a slow rolling of muscle, a flex of their strength. A serpent squeezing down around a mouse. A tiger bearing down on the deer. 

You don’t go easily, though. 

And the moment you feel his resistance, you squirm and push harder, straining. Arching and impatient. 

He nips, he fights back the more base urge to growl, and readjusts his hold on you.

“Stop squirming,” he commands.

“Stop teasing,” you reply, stubborn, and disobedient. 

“Let me enjoy you.” Zhongli responds, watching his own hand sweep over your breast, cover it, and toy with you. 

“Enjoy me later.” You snip, fastening your legs tighter to his waist, hitching him closer. 

And he feels a head rush of your ability pour through him, the tightening of your desire and lust, of your hunger spilling from you. It’s purposeful. He feels the dull thud of his heart kick upwards, the warmth that simmers beneath his skin. He blinks hard with it, but does not succumb. 

“You’re so insolent.” He finally gets out, just shy of a growl, “now hold still for me.” 

His lips skim the top of your stomach as he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. 

You sit up onto your elbows, eyeing him, inching your hips to the edge of the desk eagerly. 

“I’ve always liked you best on your knees, Morax.” 

He sinks his teeth into your inner thigh in a more ruthless bite, forcing your legs open even as they threaten to close with the sudden jolt of pain. Hard enough that you hiss through your teeth, twitching towards or away from him, he can’t tell. 

(Images of days long past flash hotly in his mind, in another form, with those sharper teeth you’d said you missed.) 

He feels your hunger burst open like a ripe fruit, like the plum between your teeth. 

He soothes the bite with a slow, lingering pass of his tongue. 

His eyes flick upwards towards you. 

You look a little shaken finally, eyes glassy, teeth stuck in your bottom lip. 

He drags you closer, pulls you flush so that your hips are almost off the edge. You fall back with the movement and he doesn’t give you a moment. He isn’t feeling generous or very kind anymore. 

His mouth opens against you in a crush of heat, eager, perhaps impatient himself. 

A groan, low, from the back of his throat, works out of him at the first taste of you. 

Again, you try to squirm, and something ancient and vicious in him squeezes hard enough on your waist that if you were a mortal, he might sincerely hurt you. He doesn’t care if you’re trying to squirm closer or away, he realizes, he doesn’t care if it hurts a little, as long as he can have you like this. Open. His. 

Ah, he realizes, perhaps he isn’t ignoring your sway as well as he thought he was. 

He delves between soft folds, already slick, but he’ll make it worse still. 

(Perhaps, at one point, he had ideas of being a gentleman of some kind with you. Perhaps, at some point, he thought he would carefully work you open with mouth and soft tongue. He’d be loving and gentle with you. But you’ve always done something horrible to him, something he can’t tame, something he wishes he feared more.) 

You whine a little and the sound pools straight into his own desire for you. 

He fits himself closer, keeps your legs wider apart with his shoulders. 

“Morax,” you gasp and it’s with more heat and desperation than he is anticipating.

His eyes, heavy and gold, flick up towards your face, looking up at you beneath the dark fan of his lashes. 

Oh, you’re closer than he thought, he realizes. 

He doesn’t slow or stop or lessen himself, groans a little, and fits himself tighter to you. He digs his fingers into your skin and keeps you close. 

To his surprise, that is all it takes. 

Your gasp is strangled, perhaps a little surprised, as you arch off the desk in a bow-curve, poised to snap.

You fall to pieces as a cry loosens from your throat. 

He feels you pulse against his tongue and without thinking, he growls a little, a pleased rumble, and doesn’t stop.

He tastes you, savors it, and doesn’t let you hide or pull away from him.

Your hips twist and he follows the movement, wrestling you still, so that he can still enjoy you. 

You’re out of breath, hiccuping a little, trying to squirm away from him but there’s nowhere to go.

He won’t let you go.

He pulls away to rest his head on your inner thigh a moment, “so quick.” He teases, “you must’ve been pent up for it to be that easy.” 

He thinks, I wasn’t even doing that for you yet—I was still enjoying myself. I was being greedy. Hungry in my own way, in the way that you inspire.

“I should leave you now.” You huff, picking yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him, but your eyes are simmering.

He squeezes at your thighs, “you’re not going anywhere tonight.”

And before he can hear your protests, he dips forward again and flattens his tongue against your folds. Slow, broad licks that make you twist and twitch. 

“Morax—“ 

“I’m not finished with you yet, my love.” He says lowly, somewhere against where you’re most tender and sensitive. 

He takes his time teasing now. 

Enjoy me later, you’d said, and he doesn’t think this is what you meant. 

You have never been patient enough for teasing–for worship. Sometimes he thinks you always expect to be scorned or feared. You were always Deus Inanis, Tanai Zhenjun, and later, Rapax Regina to the people. You have many names from them, none particularly kind or cherished. You were always the ghoulish god, the bad omen, the drooling maw of a starved predator. Your myth is not a beloved one by most. 

And some dare not even speak your name at all, for fear of inviting you. 

You are not a welcome god in the home and hearth, you are not for protection or courage. You are feared and warded off. You are, at best, used as a condemnation. 

(To him you were always softened with affection, even at your worst; little god, my curse, my love, keeper of my heart.) 

You’ve never known the sort of worship he gives you. 

You struggle with it, keen sharp and broken when he gives it to you. 

Sometimes you have all-out tried to refuse him or hasten him, poured your lust and impatience into him to get your way, to sway him to your own will. He can feel it again now but it never manifests in him the way you’d like it to. You assume his desire is one of his own pleasure. But it has always been this; 

You, belly-up and vulnerable, only for him, delicate in a way the rest of the world will never know. Pleasure-drunk and hazy. Lost to what he can give you–he wants to gorge you. He wishes he could fill the empty place inside of you. 

He’s spent an eternity trying. He’ll spend an eternity more. 

He focuses his intentions, strengthens the pass of his tongue with what he wants. He wants your pleasure. He wants it again and again. 

You curse a little, an ancient word, from when the land was Archon-less and free. 

He lifts his mouth from you briefly, “you are already cursing like that? This will be a long night for you then.” 

He opens his mouth again to taste you, to suck gently, your legs twitching over his shoulders as your breath hitches. 

This time you curse him, hissing through clenched teeth.  

He laughs against you in amusement, low and dark, and smooths a broad hand over the soft plain of your tensing stomach. As if he might soothe you, or perhaps because he wants to feel all of you, have you in his palms, in his arms. Against his mouth.

The next time you fall apart, he doesn’t let up once. His eyes have gone half-lidded and burning, a flint-strike of amber. You try to fight him again, wrestle out of his hold, but he strengthens himself. He steels himself, even, to your pulling of his hair, to your fussing and snapping–all of that melts to whining, to near-crying, as he continues. 

You’re too stubborn to cry for him now–there have been only a handful of times he’s broken you down that much. 

Perhaps if he were feeling crueler, he would try. 

(These instances have always come in the wake of something worse; your largest fights, or worst transgressions where he felt the need to punish. To strip you bare. These are saved, not for his desires, but for your catharsis after all your grief.) 

But your voice has gone higher with desperation, more broken, and he is pleased with that. 

Pleased enough that when you burst on his tongue again, your nails digging into the back of his hand as he holds you, he finally rises. 

Instantly, you twine yourself around him, legs around his waist, arms pulling at the front of his clothes to drag him down into your arms. You are always more desperate for affection like this, softened by pleasure, hungry for more. 

He goes down easily for you.

 Kisses you hard and open, so that you’ll taste yourself from his mouth, the way he tasted the plum from yours. 

You groan weakly and manage to gasp when he pulls away, “please–more. I need more. Need–” 

Always need, you say, when you get like this. Never want. 

“Need you.” 

He hums, the noise lumbering from his chest in a pleased, dark sound. 

“You have me,” he soothes, even as he feels dizzy with your own desire, a headrush of desperation–of need that rushes from you to him. 

Feed me, need me, fill me, possess me, take, take, take me. Fill. Aching–so empty, I’m so empty. Please, please, it hurts– please, I need more, need, need, need–

He lets out a harsh breath. It aches, almost sharply, almost on the wrong side of pain and pleasure. 

He does not torment you any longer. He does not torment himself, either. 

With fingers far more nimble than he feels, he loosens his slacks, he pushes his clothes out of the way just enough, enough to take himself in hand and hiss through his teeth as the head of his cock touches your slick folds. 

Molten. Fluttering still with sensitivity, with desperation. 

Your hips roll, eager, trying to urge him closer, inside–

“Morax–” you cry and the sound twists something in his chest, blooms like a bruise being pressed on. 

 He presses inside you and fills you in one, deep thrust. 

You gasp sharply, you pull at him, force him to collapse over you nearly, cover you completely. You cling to him, you wrap yourself around him like a serpent, now constricting him–

(He’s never been able to tell who is the serpent and who is the mouse, anyways. Who is the tiger or the deer? Was he capturing you? Or were you always capturing him?)

You hold him so tightly, calves flexing around his back, that he can hardly pull out from you to thrust.

He groans, almost in frustration, or maybe some form of defeat. 

“Darling,” he gets out roughly, “my love. My little god.”

The old, affectionate nickname burns through you and he can feel the desire like a knife’s blade in his own stomach. You moan– a soft, warbling sound. 

He manages to move his hips, barely leaving the hot clutch of you, to push back in deeper, harder. 

“Please–” you gasp, “more–kiss me. Touch me.”

“So demanding,” he scolds, but he kisses you hard, with too much teeth and roughness, and fits his palms over the sides of your body. He takes handfuls of curves, of your waist and your breasts, rough hands bending over the lines of you the way the light of the moon bends over the hills and valleys of his land. 

His next thrust is harder, a little rougher. You turn your face into his throat after you break the kiss and your teeth sink down into him hard. 

You always draw blood. You always have to leave your mark on him, on all that you’ve touched. 

But then you draw your tongue over the wound, licking softly, perhaps in apology. Perhaps to satiate another need that winds around inside you. 

Your hand tangles in his hair again and he bites back another raw groan as he thrusts, in and out, on a slow, rough drag. You’re clinging to him, tight and so wet that it’s making his thoughts bleary and clouded. Your lust shadows any rationality; your hunger possesses him. 

“Harder,” you gasp, you beg, you plead. 

And he thinks who am I to deny you? Who am I to deny the god of my hunger? 

His hand slips over your arm, your free one clawing at his clothed back still. He knows you will mourn not getting your nails into his skin after, but he will let you satiate the need all you like later. He’ll savor the way you try to tear him apart, like he always does. 

(And sometimes, he swears, you’re just trying to tear down his skin to be closer. Deeper in him. Scratching at his ribs and his sides like you want in, in, in. A bad dog at his door. A wraith that claws at his soul.)      

As he pulls at your forearm, flattening it out against the desk beneath you to pin you beneath him, he knocks into the bowl of fruit. 

The last of the plum slices tip out onto the desk and the remaining juice at the bottom of the bowl pools in a sticky mess over the wood, some over your forearm and wrist, over his own, too. 

He thinks you move without thinking, bringing his wrist up to your lips where you lick up a stripe up into his palm, against his thumb. 

You take his thumb into your mouth with ease and he cups your cheek in a possessive hold as he lets you suckle, tongue soft and warm and gentle against the pad of it. You groan, lashes fluttering, and this seems to please some part of you. 

His thumb in your mouth, cock lodged deep inside you. 

He pushes himself deeper on his next thrust, enough that you whine a little, eyes going glassy, cheeks hollowing around his thumb. 

He can feel the spit pooling in your mouth, wet and slick, can feel the way your walls squeeze and flutter around him desperately. 

He presses on your tongue, thrust growing a little faster, but still hard, deep–a little ruthless. 

But it’s what you need–so it’s what he gives you. 

You hold his wrist, little nails digging into his skin, desperate to keep his thumb between your lips. He can feel the press of your teeth in the meat of his hand. 

He readjusts, tries to draw his thumb out barely, only for you to latch down tighter on his wrist, and slide it back into your mouth with a noise of protest. Saliva spills a little, slick and messy against your bottom lip, against his hand. 

He coos, but it’s too dark to sound reassuring, and sounds more like a rough purr, just shy of a pleased growl. 

“I won’t go anywhere,” he soothes lowly, but it sounds like less of a comfort from a husband, and more of a promise from the beast you shouldn’t have let in in the first place. It’s loving in the same way a possession is. “My little god, I have you now.” 

Your peak this time makes something inside of him roar open. He feels your inner muscles bear down on him, fluttering desperately. 

Your eyes tip behind your eyelids, hiccuped breath against his hand as it twists into a guttural sound that he feels against his palm. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, turning your face so that he can press open mouthed kisses against your throat, suck a bruise there, turn the flesh tender, “I’ve got you. Good girl–that’s it.” 

Perhaps he draws blood when he bites you this time, too. Tastes it sharp on his tongue, the blood of a god. He lifts his head from your neck and finally draws his thumb from your mouth, spit slick as he traces your bottom lip. He pulls himself up from you to gaze down at you, slack jawed and messy, near feverish with your lust. 

His hips quicken, harder, and you reach out to splay your hand out against his tensing stomach, to push at him a little. 

But he doesn’t stop, feels you nip at his thumb, still making a mess of your lips and chin. 

Your legs are still hitched tight around him, drawing him in, keeping him close. 

He squeezes your hip with his free hand, he loses his rhythm when you draw his thumb back into your mouth, suckling softly on it. 

He groans, feels his own pleasure in a rush down his spine, a burst of heat that unfurls like a supernova. Collapses inward. Expands outwards. He buries himself inside of you, as deep as he can manage, deep enough that you make a little noise of pain maybe, but you hold him tight to you. Again, you constrict around him, dragging him back down by his clothes to slot your mouth against his as he fills you. 

It’s your turn to hum, pleased, almost purring, tightening your hold around him, locking him against you.

The kiss this time is slower, but dirtier, all tongue, open and messy. He groans into it, holding your jaw, feeling himself twitch inside of you, his own eyes fluttering with pleasure, lashes against your cheek. 

When you both pull away, you’re out of breath. Chests rising and falling against each other. 

You seem subdued now, heavy-lidded, but your lips drag to his cheek, down to the curve of his jaw. 

You roll your hips a little.

“More–” You murmur, “I want more.” 

His laugh tapers into a moan. He flexes his hips a little, heat simmering beneath his own skin. 

Your hands pull at his clothes finally, tugging at them, pulling at buttons until they snap and burst beneath your fingers, until you reveal bare skin. Instantly, your hands are on him, nails scratching into his chest gently, over his shoulders. 

(He’s going to take you to bed after this and he’ll rid you of the scraps of your clothes and the rest of his. He'll get rid of anything between you.) 

The ache in him builds again and suddenly he’s rocking into you again, deep and slow, watching the way he disappears inside of you. The mess he’s already made of you, the way he wants to make it all worse. He feels feverish himself now, a little lost to the sight– his desire suddenly feels inhuman. Monstrous. Too big for his own skin. 

You always seem to remind him of his divinity. 

“Hold me,” you demand now and as if commanded, he goes to you. 

He gets his arms around you and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. His desire unwinds. Time unspools from him. He loses himself in the pull of you, in the undertow of desire and hunger. He tries to satiate the ache you have carved in him. The ache you always have nestled inside of you. 

You beg him of more–more pain and more pleasure and more of him–until he feels near mindless with it. Gone with it. 

Shuddering with sensitivity and feeling you tremble with it, too. 

He doesn’t regain himself until another peak has been reached and fallen from, until he realizes the hour; the moon hanging in the window of his study like a copper penny. He forces himself to slow. To lodge himself deep and go still inside of you and let his head fall to your chest.

You cradle his skull, fingers slipping into his hair, catching your breath as the haze fades for a moment. 

He picks his head up barely, shifts only so he can catch your gaze. 

“Stay for a while.” He demands now. 

 You let go of a sigh, deep, perhaps tired. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed.” You hum softly. 

“Will you behave?” He asks and you lean down to kiss him–sweeter now. Perhaps apologizing. He accepts your affection with warmth, though. 

“You know how I get restless.” You respond, fingers tracing along the nape of his neck, one of them trailing down the bend of his jaw. 

You are softest now, like this. It’s a rare sight; one he savors, one he will stay hungry for his whole life, he thinks. 

“Yes,” he agrees, perhaps fondly, perhaps sadly. “If you could keep mortals out of it, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Even if I tried to kill you again?” You ask, finger tracing the bow of his upper lip. 

He smiles faintly and you touch the corner of his mouth, “yes,” he agrees, “even then.” 

“Or tried to steal your Gnosis again?” 

He snorts softly, picking himself up further to hover over you, to gaze down at you with more love than you have ever known what to do with. “You can certainly try again.” 

“Perhaps I should try harder this time.” The threat is fangless this time and you are at least soothed somewhat for now. He knows it won’t last long. 

But for now, he takes advantage of it. He cups your cheek, brushes his thumb along your jaw affectionately, and for once, you nuzzle into the touch. You rub your cheek into his palm like a cat. 

A flash of your teeth. You bite down into his hand. 

He laughs softly, but pulls his hand from you, dislodges your teeth from his flesh. 

Slowly, he tries to detangle himself from you. You are reluctant, but he appeases you with promises of more, of his bedroom. Of a bath and whatever you want. 

“More plums,” you say, letting him carry you to his bedroom like a young bride, cradled in his arms. “I’ve always loved plums.” 

He smiles, “I know. They remind me of you.” 

The admittance is a tender one, one that he has held for centuries that has finally loosened from his mouth like a bird taking to flight. 

In the morning, when you have slipped from him and his bed and his life once more, all that’s left are the marks you left on him, the deep scratches and latches of your teeth on tan skin–

And the pits of plums you devoured before you left. Not one is spared and he thinks his heart never has been, either. 

Not from you, his wife, his curse, his love–not from his god of hunger. 

***

a/n part ii: thank you for reading!! here are those notes on the reader's godly names:

There are three titles the reader is referred to. Two of them are latin, similar to Rex Lapis, and the third is from @itoshisoup, and is Tanai Zhenjun, which mao explained as such: "贪爱 (tanai) is a Buddhist term that is often translated as "craving", and refers to desire for both physical and mental things. From my understanding, tanai is sometimes considered a cause of suffering (苦 or ku), but is sometimes considered closely related to suffering in other ways. Given the motif of hunger, I would name the god Tanai, and additionally give them the honorific "Zhenjun" (a title associated with Taoist gods - much like "Dijun", which is the honorific in Zhongli's Chinese title, Yanwang Dijun; however, it is a lesser title than Dijun). Tanai Zhenjun is therefore what I'd call them."

The other two are Deus Inanis and Rapax Regina, which mean "empty god" and "rapacious/ravenous queen" in Latin.

i plan to write more of this reader and use these godly names again soon &lt;3

[moraxsthrone]

the tip of dragon!zhongli's long, slithering tongue spelling his names out on your clit before sucking it into his hot mouth with a low, rumbling growl. it's just one of the many ways he marks and claims you as his own.

[luv3rrx]

Marbas x F!Reader x Morax

Cw; nsfw,brat taming

A/N; Happy Valentines day 💌🫶🏾💐,also this small drabble may have grammatical mistakes but hey,smut is supposed to be filthy no?

Do you ever wonder what would happen if you made two softdom snap because you were acting like a brat?

Well here is my answer;

You were overstimulated they made you cum so many times it was getting overwhelming you can't even count on how much you came it was just too much

The way they're cock were molding your insides so it could fit to yours and they're pleasure and how they fuck you deep so deliciously doing everything that would make you melt in they're hands,they always made sure that you okay while doing this making sure that both they're cock could fit in your sopping wet cunt

But today was different,you did sometimes act like brat but they didn't mind it but not today,you were flirting with the waiter during your lunch with them and they couldn't have anyone have you could they?

As soon as you guys enter the door to your room all hell breaks loose

Marbas pick you up and shoved you on the bed Morax was watching like a predator looking at its prey,he only got close to you to rip your clothes off Marbas took the bottle of lube just to prepare you

You though to yourself 'is this what they call punishment?' oh you have no idea on what their going to do to ya huh?

[impactedfates]

One Final Dance - Xiao x GN!Reader

Summary: You wanted to keep your job a secret from your boyfriend. You knew what could happen if he found out, but the truth always comes to light and he found out. But just before you deal with the consequences, you requested just one final dance with him

Warnings/Extra: Angst (At least I tried to make it) // Character Death (Reader) // OOC Xiao? // Not really proof read… // Time skips are seen like this -------->

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W.C - 1423

A/N- My friend read it, I read it. I have a heavy love/hate relationship with it ngl, leaning more to hate but there is things I like about it. Which I hope you do too…ANYWAYS. Although I read it and so did my friend, I didn’t actually fix or edit anything. So you’re reading the raw (?) piece technically…enjoy? (I hope) 

Working as a Fatui member, you often had missions outside your home nation. This mission was situated in Liyue. You looked around the vase land, exploring a bit before returning back to your base camp. However, unluckily, a group of treasure hoarders came by. You were quick to pull out your weapon and were ready to fight them off.

You were doing well, however you didn’t notice a treasure hoarder coming up behind you, he raised his weapon and was about to slash it down towards you, you were able to turn your head in time to see a green mist suddenly in front of you, sending the treasure hoarder back.

You eyes met the back of a masked man, he was quick to dispose of the rest of the treasure hoarders, it went faster as you were quick to help him. After all's been dealt with, he turned to you.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m…fine…who are you?”

He turned back around, his head turning towards you as his polearm disappeared into thin air. His Anemo vision shined. You couldn’t help but take in his appearance fully now that there weren't many distractions.

“Who I am is not important…be safer next time”

He said, before disappearing in the same green mist he appeared in. You paused a bit. Remembering his appearance. His mask, his short green hair, his tattooed arm. His clothing. And his voice.

You paused a bit

You wanted to see him again.

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“How many times must I tell you to be careful”

The man who you learnt was named Xiao spoke after saving you for the nth time. You smiled slyly at him and scratched the back of your head.

“Quite a lot it seems”

You replied, Xiao shook his head at you, disappointed. He had given you his name, so you could call him when you were in danger. Although you could easily defend yourself from most enemies. You couldn’t help but want to see Xiao more and more with each encounter.

“If you continue calling my name like this, I’m going to think you’re messing with me”

“Is it so wrong to want to see you?”

You admitted, raising a brow. He seemed taken aback by your statement before crossing his arms. Oh he was definitely going to lecture you about calling his name just to see him.

“I had thought it was…suspicious. You seemed completely fine every time you called for me, and you also seemed perfectly capable of fighting…so you only called my name to see me?”

“...Maybe?”

“...If…if you truly just want to see me…then just stop by Wangshu Inn instead. I think it’s…better. We can actually talk without being interrupted by hilichurls attacking”

And with that, Xiao quickly left, teleporting away.

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“What do you mean you don’t know how to dance!?”

You exclaimed, looking shocked at Xiao when he revealed his inability to dance. He looked away, a blush dusting his face before nodding.

“My life was filled with fighting, even after Morax saved me, I am still fighting. Fighting to protect Liyue, fighting my karmatic debt…I guess I didn’t have time to learn to dance”

“But you have time to hang out with me huh?”

Xiao’s cheeks grew redder, turning his whole body away and crossing his arms. Even though he did this to hide how he felt, you could tell he was flustered.

You softly laughed at your friend's reaction. You enjoyed these times. Where you could get free time from your usual Fatui duties to hang out with Xiao. Someone who you had gained feelings for. You wish you could tell him your true occupation but…his job to protect Liyue and you being a part of a group that could put Liyue in danger? It was best for you to keep it a secret, so you could continue this friendship.

You slowly walked up to Xiao, tapping his shoulder and lending a hand out towards him.

“Well…if you want. I could teach you. Right here, right now”

Xiao turned to you and looked at your extended hand. With a small sigh he took your hand, with a grin you were quick to pull him into a slow dance. Guiding him on where to place his hands. With each step you took, with each mistake he made as he apologies with a small blush. The moonlight shining on the two of you. And near the end of the dance, perhaps it was the atmosphere that made things the perfect setting. Slowly he leaned in and you two shared a kiss under the moonlight.

I guess your feelings were reciprocated.

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Today marks the anniversary for you and your boyfriend Xiao! You’ve been dating for 3 whole years and everything was perfect. You had your ups and downs sure, every couple does. But you two truly loved each other. With a bag in hand and a wave bye to your comrades. You made your way to Wangshu Inn.

You smiled at Verr Goldet, who gave you a nod as she saw you walk up. She was the first person to find out about your relationship with the adeptus himself. And she grew fond of you.

“Xiaoooo, are you here? Where are yo-”

You froze, eyes widening when you saw someone pointing a polearm at your neck. That someone, being your boyfriend. You quickly raise your hands and tried to walk back a bit.

“X-Xiao? What’s going on?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You opened your mouth to ask, what was he talking about? Until you stiffened. Did he…find out? Find out about your true occupation.

“You said you worked as a wandering merchant…you had goods with you I-I thought I could trust you…I wanted to surprise you today by picking you up but I couldn’t find you where you said you were…I got worried, I saw you with the Fatui…I thought you had gotten caught but…no…it was clear to me you were lying to me from the start”

You looked down, thinning your lips. You couldn’t deny his allegations, he saw you. He knew you were lying but…you truly did like him.

“Xiao…I…please, I love you, my job as a Fatui won’t affect this relationship”

“But it might affect the safety of Liyue! You…”

Xiao felt the words die on his tongue. He loved you dearly, but he cannot just let you go after finding out who you work for. After finding out what you could do to endanger the citizens of Liyue.

“[Name]...I’m sorry I just…I hope you can understand, but I cannot just…”

“...I understand”

Xiao lowered his polearm, he took some deep breaths as you carefully placed your gift on the ground and slowly walked over.

“But…before you…well…ensure I’m no longer a threat to Liyue…can we have one final dance?”

Xiao looked at you, his eyes softening at your request. After much thought, he put away his polearm and lent out his hand which you happily took. And just like 3 years ago, you two danced under the moonlight. The movement was careful, no mistakes made anymore. Xiao leaned in for the final time and gave you a kiss.

With a heavy heart, he summoned his polearm again and stabbed you through the chest. You coughed up blood, quickly clinging to his clothing, you looked up to him and smiled despite everything. The blood running down his polearm and dripping on the ground.

Your eyes slowly lost their light and sparkle. The light and sparkle Xiao loved to see. He held your body close to his own. He felt like crying. But he couldn’t, not now.

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After burying your body, after placing flowers on your grave. He teleported himself back to WangShu in, his eyes landed on the bag you wanted to give him for your anniversary. He walked over to it and picked the bag up, taking the gift out he felt a shortness of his breath as his eyes landed on it.

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The traveller's eyes lingered on a photo frame of Xiao and an unfamiliar person. The two of them smiling, Xiao is holding onto the person in a loving embrace. They turned to Xiao, wanting to ask about it but they stopped themselves as they saw how he looked at the photo himself. With such sadness and seemingly regret.

They thought it was best to keep quiet about it. It must’ve been someone important to Xiao that had been laid to rest. 

If only they knew that Xiao was the reason they had to be laid to rest.

[sinthedrinker]

Zhongli x F!Reader

Dragon, breeding, pregnant sex

Zhongli had regained much of his strength and power, so much so that, at least in the privacy of our bedroom and seemingly in response to my shifting hormones he could change his body to be more akin to his previous form. His nails and teeth would grow longer and sharper and his horns and tail would return. Something primal had awoken within him, even in public when he had to maintain his identity as Zhongli and keep himself under control, his possessive nature over me had increased, bordering on aggressive at times, though his associates assumed it was simply a husband being protective of his pregnant wife. He had delegated a lot of his work, choosing to spend as much time as possible at home with me. He had become overzealous in decorating our bedroom, filling our large bed with more blankets and pillows, insisting on bringing me my meals and the nursery we had designed for the child was picturesque. It seemed the desire to build a perfect nest had come with the other changes. Alone in our bedroom even the small draconic changes to him seemed as refreshing as taking off ones uniform after work. I was thankful for his horns, it was nice to have something sturdy to hold onto while his face was buried between my legs, as it often was. While he had always been a generous lover, it seemed lately his desire to continuously lick and suck my clit until I had cum so many times I could no longer walk was a daily occurrence. By the time he finally penetrated me I was always so slick I was embarrassed the lewd wet noises would be audible to the servants, though Zhongli always seemed hopeful they would be.

I had been taking a nap when he returned home from work early again. I had been fatigued often even though I was only four months along and I enjoyed taking naps, snuggled up against the pillows naked to feel the soft, silky texture of the sheets. Zhongli smiled at the sight of me as he undressed. He took his hair down as his horns grew, his teeth and nails sharpened and he could feel his tail growing, trailing behind him as he climbed into the bed. 

He pressed his ear against my stomach, taking a few moments to listen to both my heartbeat and that of our child. The legacy of Rex Lapis and Morax was all of Liyue, contracts, mora, gold, but the legacy of Zhongli was this child growing within his sleeping wife and he smiled contentedly as he kissed my stomach. His senses were so much sharper like this, not just hearing but scent as well and he nuzzled himself against my chest, drawn to the sweet smell of milk as his elongated tongue snaked its way around one of my nipples. I stirred slightly in my sleep as he took my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his tail wrapped itself around one of my legs. The taste of my milk further triggered the primal instincts within him and he reached between his legs, slowly stroking his cock as he set to work on my other nipple. I awoke then, rubbing his back softly until he finished. He looked up at me, his eyes half-lidded as his serpentine tongue lapped up a stray drop of milk that had begun to roll down my breast. 

"I did not mean to wake you." He said, nuzzling against my neck and becoming intoxicated by my scent. 

"It's alright, I'm happy you're here. I get lonely when you're at work.." I said, holding him close as he flicked his tongue against my neck. 

"I get lonely without you, too. Being alone with my mate in our nest is all I want to do until our child arrives. Perhaps I should take the remainder of your pregnancy off work.." He mused as he spread my legs on either side of his, gently raking his claws against my soft thighs. 

I held his face in my hands, stroking his cheeks as he aligned himself with my entrance, closing his eyes as he pushed himself into me. His long, strong tail wrapped around my waist, the scales were warm and the muscles writhing long it felt like a snake. He used it to move me to meet his hips with each thrust as he dug his claws into the sheets on either side of me to avoid sinking them into my skin. 

His cock had always been long and girthy but lately he seemed even thicker and he was completely insatiable, always fucking me for so long I thought I would fall unconscious. His noises had changed, becoming more feral and sometimes he spoke in a language I could not understand, perhaps a language he had not spoken in centuries. 

 I held onto his tail, stroking the smooth scales as his grip on the sheets tightened, his claws cutting into the sheets. 

I wrapped my legs around his waist the best I could and slid my hands up his body, over his chest, his face and then to his horns. I pulled him towards me, desperate to kiss him. He hissed through clenched teeth before opening his mouth, saliva clinging to his pointed teeth as his long tongue snaked its way out, licking my lips before sliding into my mouth. Kissing him in this form was so appealing I couldn't help but clench even tighter around him. In response his tail tightened around me and he bit my lip, piercing my skin. He pulled away immediately, he would've pulled out had I not locked my ankles around his waist. 

"My sweet flower, I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, perhaps it is too dangerous to do this-" I silenced him with a kiss, still clutching his horns and holding him to me.

"I- the taste of your blood-" his eyelids fluttered as he lapped up the blood, licking it off of my chin and sucking my lip until the bleeding stopped. His tail was so tight around me, like a python around its prey. He cupped my face, mindful of his claws, and stared down at me with glowing amber eyes. 

"I want every part of you. Your delicious, tight, soft cunt, mine alone to fill, and your womb for my children and mine alone. Your breasts, heavy with milk because of me, your blood, everything about you." I trailed my fingers over his cheeks and lips and he flicked his tongue out to lick my fingertip. 

"I'm yours, Rex Lapis, and you are mine." I managed, my words strained and whiny as he continued pounding into me recklessly until his cock began to swell, a knot forming to lock us together while he finished, spurt after spurt of warm, thick cum. I winced, the increased stretch of his knot was painful. He cradled me, nuzzling against my neck and stroking my hair. 

"Is it painful? Of all the reminders of my previous form to return, I did not expect this one. If it is too much, we don't need to do this." He said gently. It did hurt, but at the same time it felt wonderful to be so full with him. My breasts, my womb, every intimate part of me full with only him.

"It's alright, I like it. Though while we're locked together, perhaps you can tell me a story. I loved hearing all about how I'm yours, but why don't you tell me all about how you're mine?" I asked, smiling as I stroked his horns between my fingers. 

"Of course. I never want you to doubt that I am yours, that my heart and soul and life are in your little hands. It is only you who could drive me to such changes, to bring me closer to my true self, to grant me such strength.. it is only you whose womb is fit to carry my child." He kissed me deeply as his knot began to dissipate. 

Zhongli sighed deeply as he withdrew from me, uncoiling his tail from around me as he stood. 

"I think after I clean you up I'll go and lay in the sun for a while..." He mused as he went to fetch a cloth from the bathroom. When he turned around I noticed spikes beginning to regrow from his spine, and I wondered if eventually he would be able to take back his old form completely.

[eileenslibrary]

hi can I request

zhongli dating xianyuns daughter(reader)(well not blood daughter but, shenhe and ganyu are called her daughters) it starts during the days that he's still an archon, xianyun orders the reader to keep the geo archon company or should I say serve him, and they developed their feelings towards each other. Since zhongli is an archon he sees ganyu and shenhe as a little children that xianyun is taking care of, but the reader is an exemption since he sees her as a beautiful woman at age reader is also immortal (electro vision holder)

Dainty

Pt.1

(GIF Is Not Mine)

Dainty pt. 2

Zhongli x F! Adepti Reader

(skin color, height, body, and facial features not mentioned or described in this work of fiction, made for all readers who align with she/her she/they)

Warnings: OOC Zhongli, Blood, Death, Near Death, War, Violence, Arguments (Mentioned/Described), Betrayal/Abandonment From Parental Figures/Home, Nudity, A Little Angst In The Parts Speaking About War And Readers Back Story.

“A proper woman” “A polite lady” and “A sweet girl” Is what you grew up in all your life, all you knew, all you wished to be. Up until you weren’t, up until ‘The Incident’ you were scorned as an outcast. Thrown out for being the ‘Odd’ one simply because you stopped playing house, abandoned, and left for dead, the weakest of the pack. You broke from the abusive chains of your village and ran until you stumbled on the muddy ground you stayed there for days laying on the wet ground dying from starvation and the cold, a light makes you crack your eyes open as an electro vision drifts down to you, you use your remaining strength to grasp the glowing orb “I get my vision when I’m dying, great” you huff.

 The days continue until one day a soft ‘Plump’ makes you open your eyes a white crane with blue feathers stands before you a small fish in its beak you stare at it watching as it tears it into smaller pieces you open your mouth for it to put the fish inside your mouth as you chew it and swallow it down. This repeats for a while the bird would come and feed you fish and let water drip down its beak into your mouth, then huddle on top of you to keep you warm until you have enough energy to walk. You watch as it flies away when you stand then lands a few feet from you, you follow it as it leads you to Mt. Aocang “Beautiful crane why do you lead me here?” you question, the bird shakes its head and begins striding up the mountain forcing you to follow you until you reach the very top. You collapse when you reach the top “I fear I cannot go any farther” you whisper before your eyes close. You awake to a woman with red-rimmed glasses washing out your hair, “W-where am I?” you ask her “My abode” she hums continuing to wash your hair your eyes widen as you realize “Adeptus Cloud Retainer” you say trying to sit up, but she stops you “Rest you are still sick” she whispers pouring hot water into the jade bath you were laying in “Why did you save me?” you ask “What was I supposed to do? Let you poison my lake with your deceased body?” she says sternly. That was what you got as a ‘Warm Welcome’ in your new home, but Cloud Retainer eventually warmed up to you and took you in as her own. She trusted you enough to let you meet Morax “She is mortal” He hums looking at you “And what of it?” Cloud Retainer defends looking over her shoulder as you wade into the pool letting the fish swim around your feet “You are one of my dearest friends and I would hate to see you grieve her death” He sighs his gold eyes watching as you feed the koi, “Are you saying I should abandon her!?” she raises her voice slightly Morax widens his eyes not used to seeing Cloud Retainer’s emotions slip “No, I was thinking of making a contract to turn her into an adeptus” he says sipping on his cup of tea Cloud Retainer whips her head to look at him “Really?” she says in disbelief. He nods his eyes following as the young woman places her hands into the water and a koi happily swims into them to eat the food in her palms. Cloud Retainer calls you from the pond you look up and wade out of the water, your white dress soaked from the mid-thigh down. Morax looks away at the transparency of the cloth clearing his throat “Yes Mother?” you question noticing the tears in her eyes “Rex Lapis and I have been talking, and we are thinking of making a contract so you can be immortal” she hums taking your hand in hers your eyes light up and you pull her into a hug she makes a “Hmph” sound when her head hits you shoulder, but she reciprocates. After a while of reading and understanding the contract and what it entails you got it signed and Morax bestowed a little of his power on you to make your life eternal. But the contract entailed that you were to accompany Morax everywhere he goes, give him anything he needs, and be his loyal servant. 

Years passed as if in a mere blink of an eye, you noticed how Morax was cold with you at the start only talking to you when necessary “Bring us tea” he commands going back to his conversation with Streetward Rambler and Guizhong “As you wish” you hum “You needn’t be so harsh on the girl” Guizhong scolds Morax just grunts Streetward Rambler shakes her head “What were those blue prints you needed me to look over?” he directs the conversation to Guizhong “Oh yeah! Here” she says remembering why she was even here handing him her idea on a new device, but he steals glances in your direction your beautiful white and green robes glimmering in the sun. You sulk as you listen to them banter, waiting for the water to finish boiling, steeping the tea perfectly as you’ve done thousands of times before. Walking over to the table and placing down cups pouring the tea into each one “Enjoy” you hum walking away “Where are you going?” You still at Morax’s words “Ah. . . I was gonna go sit down?” You say as if questioning yourself looking back at him, Guizhong and Streetward Rambler look at you expectantly “What Morax means is for you to come to sit with us” Rambler explains patting the stone seat next to her your eyes widen a happy glint shining in them you find your seat between Morax and Streetward Rambler. You sit between them sitting quietly but content nonetheless just listening to them discuss topics. Morax watches as you sip your tea quietly his eyes tracing over your beautiful features. You meet his eyes giving him a questioning glance “Is something wrong My Lord” You whisper he shakes his head and goes back to his conversation.

The war is tedious but you fight hard, friends and foes falling everywhere you look. You refuse to shed tears and show weakness to anyone who may take advantage of your blind spot, defending your god with a stone heart, letting your sword cut through anyone who would dare try to lay a hand on your god. Static runs through the air as you let the electro flow through your movements like wine from a bottle, effortless, graceful, swift, and solid as you slice through armor as hard as the strongest steel. A cold expression striking fear into the weaker gods who thought you were an easy target, you reek of dirt, blood, and death. Your armor splattered in other's blood as if it was forged in a slaughterhouse. Your only relief was returning to your camp and seeing your friends and god, but one day someone close didn’t return “Rex!” you rush up to him “Where is Guizhong, why isn’t she with you!?” Your eyes search wildly for the god of dust he stays silent pushing past you into his makeshift home, you stand there eyes wide as you sink into the ground hand over your heart, the soiled ground wet and red. Morax closes his eyes when he hears your armor and sword clink as you fall to your knees and let out a scream painful sobs following after, his tears falling as he wishes he could have saved her for your sake.