#☁️◝ the holy codice: little musings

[euniveve]

(𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐬) 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 - zhongli

pairings: zhongli x reader tags: angst & fluff (mainly fluff tho with sprinkles of angst), wife! reader, mentioned xiao w.c: 946 a.n: happy birthday my darling husband here's your birthday gift, the drabble that i rewrote; my fellow sibling spouses, enjoy

Your lashes flutter as you look down, your lips carefully pressed against the red paper to leave a cherry-red stain. A soft breath escapes your lip and your gaze shifts back to the jade mirror. Scenes such as this, remind you of your duty to your husband, to your nation– and yet as you glide your fingers, carefully blending the stain to your natural lip colour; your husband, Morax stood behind you and began parting your hair, his fingers already braiding it and arranging into an elaborate updo. 

This is a maid’s job – but the lord of geo has always insisted on doing this task himself; and how could he not? Another minute in your presence and feeling your being under his touch is another minute well-spent. His beautiful wife, his only love.

You watch his thick finger take one of the many golden hairpins on your jewellery box, the intricacies of the designs complimenting the placement of your bun– and your husband’s amber eyes gleam from the light cast by the metal, a soft smile sitting on his lips as he hummed a familiar tune. 

Your heartbeat skips, and you relish sight of his majestic form; his toned arm that’s dipped in gold, his glowing antlers that resemble the warm sun, his rich brown hair that so elegantly drapes against his shoulders and frames the sides of his face–

'Mirrors,’ you thought, breathless and lips parting, ‘really are great inventions', 

"Dearest?" His deep, sweet voice says; vibrating down your spine with warmth, hypnotizing you further into his hold. Ah yes, Morax, the man standing behind you, the god watching over you, is everything he is supposed to be and more.

"Not- Nothing!" You manage to say, flashing him a nervous smile before you shake your head, trying to save face in front of him– a wife should maintain some dignity after all.

Morax chuckled, his calloused fingers finally placing the last hairpin as you reached to take a brush from your vanity and dip it in the porcelain pot of red-stained beeswax. A personal gift from Morax's anemo yaksha, one he so offhandedly gifts after you flick your finger on his forehead, warning him to not take his duties too far. You worry over that boy– the more times he comes to the palace, the more scars riddle his body.

And yet he fights anyway. 

You could only hope that one day, the sweet yaksha will learn to smile again. A smile he once held, a smile like your husband's.

Morax's golden fingers soon find their way to yours, breaking your thoughts and submerging you deeper into his warm comforting embrace. 

"Let me help you, darling," he whispered into your ear, his hot breath hitting the tip, making you shudder from the sensation. Feeling your cheeks heating up from his declaration, you shyly nod and turn your back to face him. 

His finger makes contact with your face and you are instantly reminded of his domain. Like it, the colossus on his fingertips is rough; his hold unmoving despite being so gentle. But you close your eyes and with no hesitation, you place your face safely in his grasp. Morax, the God of Contracts, is capable of many things, but hurting you isn’t one of them.

You feel a cold touch on your forehead, knowing that with careful precision – your husband is drawing a plum blossom, your favourite flower.

"There," he said softly, planting a gentle kiss on your red-stained lips, making his appear to have a slight tint. You stifled a giggle at the sight, brushing your fingers against his lips, moving them slightly and forcing his smile to grow wider.

Morax raises his brow, thinking that you are trying to play with his face – he opens his jaw and tilts his head, breaking out a burst of unexpected joy-filled laughter from you.

"Here,” you giggled, remembering how Xiao too, acts like this when you try to force a smile at him, “lǎo gōng."

The brown-haired man hummed, watching as you tried to tell him what to do with just your face, urging him to mimic your movements. He surprisingly understood, fitting his face on the palm of your hand and closing his eyes; trusting you completely when he felt your fingers taking the brush from his fingers. 

‘Xiao,’ you recalled, ‘could really be his son..’

‘Bright golden eyes… same stubbornness…’

You giggle again, carefully painting the edge of the stone lord’s eyes, the same way as his warrior has his painted.

‘Same behaviours… same selflessness…’

"Open your eyes," you whispered and Morax instantly obeyed, his piercing amber gaze taking in your face inches from his. You smile, shifting from your seat and allowing him to see both of you in the jade mirror.  

And there it was, the both of you. Rex Lapis and his wife. You couldn’t help but widen your smile, blinking slowly as you whisper underneath your breath; "Xiao would love this.”

Then you snickered to yourself, already imagining the look on the yaksha's face when he had seen what you had done. It would probably hold horror and awe, yet still accompanied by subtle gratefulness he would display in between quiet murmurs. Indeed, you should probably talk to Morax about adopting him…

The geo god lets out a small chuckle as he wraps his arm around you, enveloping you back into his warm embrace. His lips kiss your neck, his face buried on its crook. With a nostalgic sigh he takes in the bliss this scene emits. A short pleasure in the inevitable long life of the Geo Archon.

"He'd have to thank you for that, my precious wife."

[euniveve]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤" - zhongli

pairings: zhongli x gn!reader tags: HURT/COMFORT (like major major comfort), glasses wearing!reader, insecure!reader, reader has self-worth issues, fluffy fluff fluff, reader is implied to have depression w.c: 1480 a.n: ngl i wrote this one shot a while ago, it helped me back then, hopefully it'll help some of you guys as well, i think this is beta read (again i wrote this a while back, i forgot) remember that you are loved my dears <3

Another tear hits the cold hardwood floor of your apartment; your glasses have long been housing the pools of your sadness before you finally take them off to bury your face into your knees, choked sobs wrangle out of your throat as your chest burns from the hurt.

What was it again that triggered this? You couldn’t remember… Crying sure does affect you; it drives your mind deeper into its sadness, an inescapable hole of helplessness with darkness surrounding you, not an oil lamp in sight.

A series of knocks fell upon your door– making you jolt in your uncomfortable position, your heart beating out of your chest as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. You don’t want to meet people now, you don’t want to pretend to be fine.

For once, saving face stood second before your needs.

“Qin ai de?” the familiar warm baritone from the other side of the door said, “It’s me, are you alright?”

You open your lips, tears still freely flowing down your cheeks but you stop yourself– deciding to close them again. Maybe anyone is fine, anyone else. But not Zhongli. You cleared your mucus-filled throat, trying to force a clear stable voice, gulping your saliva thickly before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in preparation.

With a shaky breath out you fake a smile, trying your best to sound how you normally do. “Y-yeah! I just wanna be in silence and think; don’t worry about me!”

A few seconds of silence pass by and you hold your breath, waiting for the sound of his feet walking away to grace your ears but you hear none. Instead, what little light the gaps at the bottom of the door provided was blocked before Zhongli spoke again.

“Forgive me, my dear, for I have to do this.”

You couldn’t even take a second to process the words he uttered before the door flew open, revealing the silhouette of your very handsome, very tall former-archon-boyfriend. Almost out of instinct– you cover your face, your trembling hand making out a very poor mask as you try your best to get away from his sight.

“Love, my dear heart,” he cooed, his footsteps dawning closer and closer before it stopped in front of you. The melodious rustle of his fabric as he bends down to meet your face, his amber eyes unmistakable in their sadness as his brows furrow in slight frustration at the sight of your visibly distraught figure. 

Zhongli reaches out; out of instinct, it seems, to comfort you, to hold you at least, his long slender finger wanting to touch your hand to move them yet you flinch when his hand hovers; afraid and unsure.

“My love?”

“Pl-please go away..” you whisper meekly, “I- I don’t want to– I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“,,,”

You quickly and harshly wipe the tears off your face, trying your best to give him a smile while your hand is still covering your puffy eyes. “I’m okay! I think…”

“But you are not,” he said matter-of-factly, his brow furrowed in confusion before his hand finally reached yours, warmth blooming on your skin with his comforting touch. “You are not okay.”

“I will be,” you muttered, “Please? I’m a mess now– I–”

Your hand was moved away, and even with your lids covering your eyes, you can imagine those brilliant eyes; so full of warmth and love you almost want to run away and hide again.

“My love please look at me.”

His voice is but a whisper and there’s care lacing between those strings of sound. Archons do you even deserve this? You are certain that you don’t but it feels so right. 

It feels like you aren’t worthless.

It feels like you matter.

You finally open your eyes, and another waterfall of tears threatens to escape but you can see his gentle smile, the softness of his lips, the curvature of his cheeks; whatever is happening now, it feels like love.

Are you worthy of love?

“You are scared,” you hear him say softly, “you are scared and that is okay, I’m here for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself whispering.

“What for?”

‘Everything.’ you wanted to say, ‘for being me, for stealing you away from someone better, for being selfish.’

Ah– there it is.

“For being selfish,” you repeat your mind, your eyes shifting to the wooden floor, his gaze tho comforting, feels so real. Like he could see through your walls; like he could tear them down with the slightest of touch. “For being selfish enough to get your love, to be so imperfect yet accepting of it– I’m so sorry.”

You wince at yourself. That sounds more pathetic than you intended. Gods; why does it have to be him? You wouldn’t mind if it's anyone else. Anyone else can call you self-absorbed or pitiable or even entitled. 

But please, archons please, let it not be him. 

“I’m not worthy of it,” you end your sentence with a defeated whisper, “I know I'm not worthy of it; I keep pushing you away, I’m difficult, I’m a horrible person.”

You bit your lip, you can hear him breathing steadily, his hand still grasping yours with that signature comfort, that loving warmth. It feels so good that you want to run away; so good that it feels like knives as the back of your mind keeps shouting at your words. 

Ugly, untrue, you know this, but when those words are repeated thousands – no – millions of times it starts to sound honestly beneath useless praises.

“I’m irreparably broken.”

Silence is between the two of you and it feels deafening. You are ready for this, for him to leave, and how could you not? You have to imagine it time and time again, with every step apart from him, every second without his presence, you imagine it over and over and over again; hoping, praying, that when it eventually happens, it would hurt even less. 

Because you are ready.

“I used to forge weapons as an archon,” Zhongli whispered, his thumb starting to trace the back of your hand. Slowly but surely, you feel his body getting closer to you, that golden touch of his cupping your cheek, those citrine gazes that inspect your very being and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

Archons, you are horrible.

“I forge new weapons for my adepti. Ones made of jade, of black steel, of unbreakable stone, cor lapises, agates, and carnelians.” he took a deep breath, the chilly autumn air filling his lungs before he continued. “But I always prefer to reforge my old weapons.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, that signature rumbling laughter that makes you shiver, that fills you with ease and serenity; it has you longing for a home only he can make, only he can fulfil. “Yes, I prefer my old weapons; one that has my hand moulded on its handle, one that has been broken time and time again.” 

You feel his fingers on your cheek, your cold, tearstained cheek– you want to flinch away but you can’t. Zhongli is your home, you couldn’t hide away any longer.

“So my love, if you are broken then allow me to reforge you.” His voice, archons, his voice resonates deep within your heart, filling its cracks and smoothing its surface. His and completely his, he once noted and each and every time he breathes he reminds you of it. “if you prefer for your pieces to bask in the sun then allow me to carry you, every chuck and dust.”

“I’ll cut you,” you whisper, trying desperately to deny him of the pain you know you would bring. “I'll hurt you; I have jagged edges and–”

“Then do it.”

His arm wraps around you, his hand tugging your head underneath his chin. He places a kiss on the top of your head, feeling the way your body fits with his; longing for the sound of your laughter and accompanying smile.

But Morax knows better; perhaps that person is gone, perhaps they are buried underneath the rubble. And yet he smiled to himself, gripping you tighter, not letting you go. He is pained, it is true. But a god can afford pain. 

Let him afford the pain, as long as you wouldn’t have to feel it.

“I’ll hold you until you feel full, I’ll love you until the last stone crumbles, I’ll be by your side until your soul turns to dust.”

He let go of a breath. It sounds heavy; and perhaps for Morax, it is. His lover it seems has been at war. What sort of warrior god lets their spouse fight a battle all alone?

“I love you,” he whispered, “and that’s nothing your thoughts can change no matter how hard they try.”

[euniveve]

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞 — k. ayato

pairings: ayato x reader tags: christmas, modern AU, angst to fluff w.c: 839 a.n: this is a very very very very late christmas present for @fuoon as part of the @2023gisecretsanta event! I never back down never give up (also i was technically sick so i can latch on to that reasoning hahahhahah I'm still very sorry tho) merry christmas, happy new years, hopefully you like your gift!

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry but there’s an emergency meeting that can’t be delayed. I’ll be home as soon as it’s finished.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, looking at the bare Christmas tree in the corner of your living room. The spruce sits there, dreary and gloomy, void of life and celebration, just like your heart. The corner of your lips twitch and you swallow the growing lump in your throat, your eyes shifting back towards the fireplace.

“It’s alright,” you reply, your voice shaky before clearing your throat, “hopefully your meeting goes well.”

“Again my love, I am so sorry, I’ll try to make it up–”

You press the red button before you can hear him say anything more, sparing you the inevitable disappointment it would bring.

Ayato always does this; business before family, or perhaps in his mind it is one and the same. After all, the man has been brought up for the sake of the company, his parents burdening him with the knowledge that it will all be his responsibility someday. That “someday” came 3 years ago and it has been weighing heavily on your relationship.

Last year you were stuck with his sister, Ayaka, and housekeeper Thoma while the head of the Kamisato Corporation ended up coming home after the celebration was finished and the leftovers from the feast stored away. They aren’t bad company per se, you could even say their presence is enjoyable, but they aren’t him.

They are not Kamisato Ayato.

Granted, the previous years he had returned home in time, but this year is no different than that one. The only difference is that Ayaka and Thoma were busy this time of the year, something about helping with the business, so it seems like you will be celebrating alone. 

You suppose you are being selfish, seeing that his enterprise is the one managing the cultural aspect of the Tri-Commision, therefore they would be busy in the time of holidays, it is given. A sacrifice you would have to make, a taste for the coming years undoubtedly.

Wishing for it to change is a childish dream; you are only his fiancee after all. You ought to understand.

You look around the boxes, spotting your headphones before putting them on and arranging your favourite playlist to keep your mind off things, humming along to the tune of a familiar song. 

With absentminded singing, you pick up the tinsel and begin to wrap it around the tree, arranging tiny lights in between the branches. Your fingers twirl the ornaments before placing them in a neat and florid manner. 

Staring blankly at the now fully decorated tree, you took a couple of steps back, trying to admire your own work; that is, before your back pressed against something… warm?

You furrowed your brow, your lips pressed together as your heart began to beat faster in a panic. You quickly contemplate many possibilities; did an intruder manage to get past the property’s tight security? Are you going to get mugged? Will Ayato be sad if a bunch of stuff is missing?

You shook your head; the fiancee of the richest man in Inazuma shouldn’t be scared of such things– so you bite the bullet and turn around, only to be greeted by those dreamy blue eyes and an aloof smile, one you have the pleasure of witnessing every morning.

Ayato reaches over to you, his gaze soft as his hand gently grabs onto your headphones and removes them from your head, your heart beating out of your chest as you watch his every move.

“Ayat-”

Warmth engulfed you both as you felt his soft lips against yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, a tender touch shared only between couples; the happiest couple you know.

“But you said you wouldn’t?” You whisper with bated breath, “How.. why?”

“I will not miss another Christmas with you,” he softly replies before letting one of his mischievous smiles slip in, “After all, there are worse nights to miss than this one.”

“Pfft…”

His blue eyes shift away from your face, that smirk still sitting on his lips before his sights landed on the fully decorated Christmas tree, except for arguably, the most important part. “Where is the star?”

He slightly bent down, resting his chin on your shoulder, kissing your jaw before whispering into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your earlobe almost making you shiver. “Were you waiting for me to put it, darling?”

“As if!” You stifle a chuckle, eyeing the golden star on one of the boxes before tugging the fabric of his suit. “But could you perhaps do it?”

Ayato hummed, his arm’s grip tightened on your waist, peppering kisses on your shoulder before finally loosening and walking over to the boxes, picking up the star and placing it on top of the tree effortlessly. He then suddenly turned around, taking a mistletoe out of his pocket and holding it high up.

“Shall we complete the ultimate Christmas tradition, my love?”

[euniveve]

TW: Dark Content below the cut, slight yandere theme

imma just explore one of my zhongli x gn! reader idea that i never got to write

okay but imagine, Pre-archon war! Morax got paired up with a reader that loves to cook; maybe they are his personal chef, maybe they are his arranged partner, what matters most in this situation is that morax develop this deep emotional bond over reader and the food they cook.

reader would meticulously search for the perfect ingredient, carefully write the perfect recipe, painstakingly arrange every meal for their god.

and morax grew to love them, but when morax was ready to confess it, reader died. from the war maybe, or even just from old age, but what happens is the reader died. morax, guided by his desperation grief, encase you in stone, so that the earth may not devour you, so that you will always stay as you are, untouched.

but morax afterwards couldn't find the taste to eat anymore. everything tastes of ash. its taste of insultingly tasteless ash; and so, he simply didn't eat, for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. maybe its because food isn't morax want. something more, something no one but you could provide.

imagine morax's grief drive his erosion faster, imagine he sees himself getting caught by it. at first, it happens when he was staring at the statue encasing your flesh.

a thought came across his mind.

irrational.

forbiden.

he tried to brush it off; but the thought keeps persisting. it happens every once in a while, but then it escalated. every time he visits your statue, he didn't dare to look at you. you are right there; you are so close. he remembers the meals you cook, from your hands, your own hands. those delicate hands of yours he couldn't help himself he really couldn't

"I love you," he whispers as his teeth sinks into your skin.

"I love you so," he gnaws into your bone, tears spilling from his amber gaze, blood dripping from his lips, messily smeared across his jaw.

"I love you," he expressed, looking at the broken cor lapis on the ground of the cave, painted crimson by your blood. his thumb brushing against the corner of his lips, catching the piece of meat before licking it whole.

"you'll always be with me now."

[euniveve]

cw. obssesive zhongli (?), zhongli x reader

Okay do yall know about that one song that goes "It's like trying to start a fire with matches in the snow; Where you can't seem to hold me, can't seem to let me go; So I can't find surrender and I can't keep control"

FUCK I WANNA WRITE SOMETHING WITH IT LIKE IMAGINE THIS IMAGINE THIS;

Zhongli who is willing to anything and everything for you, his only love, he is driven mad, he is willing to flattened tevyat and start it over if he have to — who cares about everything else, he wants you.

But you say no.

You love liyue, you love tevyat, you want it to continue, to grow, you are willing to do what it takes, you are willing to do it despite everything.

And it cost him everything.

It cost him you.

The desperation he felt; the way it nips his finger, the way it eats away his smile, or the way his heart crumbles in your hand. Fuck. He is willing to do everything for you, but you won't let him.

[euniveve]

You guys don’t know them but you will soon

[euniveve]

i got tagged by aine (@ainescribe/ @lychniis) to post about my wips so here i go! (multichapter unless stated otherwise)

The Ongoing Longfics:

The Laws Regarding Attraction (neuvillette/f!reader) chap 8-9

diving deeper into avocate's headspace and neuvillette trying to pick up the pieces and mend some broken trust

The Phoenix to His Dragon (zhongli/f!reader) chap 26

family reunion with hijinx (i will not elaborate)

The Upcoming:

I'm Okay, I think (zhongli/gn!reader)

reader with debilitating perception of their self worth is the spouse of the ever calm, ever loving Wangsheng Furneral Parlour Consultant. hurt/comfort, oneshot.

Rex Lapis' Wife Would Like To Rest In Peace (zhongli/f!reader)

new world-building premise makes it possible for suicidal reader to wish for her death to rex lapis directly, in exchange, he wanted her to be his wife for the next 10 years. arranged marriage, post archon-war liyue, emperor!morax, imperial harem.

This Blade That Carves Loneliness (zhongli/f!reader)

reader who is a super slammer, world-class figure skater who retires because of a scandal that destroys her career (among other things) is coaxed by zhongli on the promise he will be her coach. figure skating au, modern au, yuri on ice inspired, dealing with topics of depression, burnout, and guilt.

Shattered You (zhongli/f!reader)

(this one i have abandoned admittedly because idk how to progress the story) reader who have DID (dissociative identity disorder) is friends with zhongli. hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, diving deep into life of a person with this disorder.

tagging (no pressure ofc my pookies): @meritamiau @silentmoths @localplaguenurse @otomempress @ansy-tea @meimeimeirin + whoever wants to join in

[euniveve]

hello! I'm eun, i am 19, my pronouns are she/they, I am a law student who has been writing genshin fanfic since the beginning of march 2023. I am obsessed with genshin lore and like to analyse characters and write fics with a touch of realism, bringing real-world situations and cultures to immerse you further into my writings.

All of my works are beta'd by @meritamiau, teddy a.k.a mr. bread & ms. bread (yes they are both birds, not mer tho she is very human) (please be sure to thank them all if you like my writings!)

do not interact with me if:

general dni criteria (homophobic, transphobic, sexist, racist, etc.), you are a zionist/pro-zionism/neutral regarding the palestinian genocide, you support minors writing/engaging in sexual content.

here is the list of my mutuals ! (this blog was accidentally deleted once before, if you were my moots once please shoot me an ask)

@ainescribe /@lychniis @ph-xntasy/@yuellii @rainswept @meimeimeirin /@zhongrin /@meitham @meritamiau @yinyinggie /@i23kazu @localplaguenurse @silentmoths @tanspostsblog @ryuryuryuyurboat @mhiieee @otomempress

tags:

anything TLRA related ➜ ☁️◝ the holy codice: the laws regarding attraction

anything TPHD/TSWPTM related ➜ ☁️◝ the holy codice: the phoenix to his dragon

drabbles/oneshots/imagines ➜ ☁️◝ the holy codice: little musings

mutuals interaction ➜ ☁️ ꒰ may your prayers be answered : [name of mutual] ꒱

ask ➜ ☁️ ꒰ may your name be blessed : [name of askee] ꒱

anon ask ➜ ☁️ ꒰ may your day be good : humble visitor ꒱

answering any ask ➜ ☁️ - prophecy of the past

ramblings ➜ ☁️ - preachings of the priestess

reblogs ➜ ☁️ - handnotes of the monks

references for writings ➜ ☁️ - the shrine tools : for the scribe

references for blogs ➜ ☁️ - the shrine tools : for the builder

OCs ➜ ☁️ ☓ the patrons of the shrine: [name of oc]

links to my various accounts in different platforms:

cardd | ao3 | wattpad | spotify