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crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

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The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

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mollywog · 2 months ago

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Tomorrow

A prequel to Complicated (can be read as a stand alone) Set the night of the 74th Reaping

She’s wandering home when her ears perk at the sound of heavy footfall approaching. Silently slipping into the shadows along the path, a figure appears several paces in the direction of the still buzzing festivities. The light is low but the broad shoulders and blond waves unmistakably belong to Peeta Mellark. She watches with interest as he meanders alone. Though the path is clear and straight, his feet are unsteady.

She frowns: He’s drunk.

It’s not that surprising, half the kids their age are probably worse off than him, it’s the night of the Reaping after all. With her sister’s first reaping safely behind them, even she had stopped by the celebration, though she hadn’t had more than a sip of white liquor.

She and Peeta aren’t friends, they don’t even know each other really, but she still feels a twinge of disappointment at his current state. She’s always held him in higher regard than the other boys at school.

In the next step he stumbles; Unable to correct his footing in time, he tumbles to the ground, grunting as he lands. He rolls to his back and sits up, cursing under his breath as he inspects his knee.

“You alright?” she says, emerging from her hiding spot.

He startles at her voice, eyes widening as he spots her. “oh, Katniss, hey. I didn’t know you were there.” He pulls himself to his feet, wincing when he puts weight on his left leg.

“You okay?” She repeats, looking him over as she approaches; there’s a tear in his pants just below the knee, but she doesn’t see blood and he was able to stand on his own: all good signs.

“Ah, yeah, nothing hurt but my pride.”

“Good thing no one saw you.”

“You saw me.”

The usually confident boy looks bashful, and she wonders why he would care: She is no one, at least to him. “I won’t tell,” she says in reassurance. His lips upturn in a poor imitation of a smile and she scowls. “Promise,” she adds defensively.

At this, he shakes his head and laughs; unlike the smile, it’s genuine, “I believe you, Katniss.”

Her stomach swoops at the sound and she turns her head to conceal her own smile. “Well if you’re okay...” she trails off, not really wanting to leave, but not knowing what else to say.

“Could I walk with you for a bit? Make sure you get home safe?”

“Seems like you might be the one in need of an escort.”

He chuckles, “maybe so, but I can’t go home just yet… not like this.”

She frowns. Her parents would be none too pleased to see her in his state, but their lecture would be nothing compared to the back of Mrs. Mellark's hand. She shrugs her assent before turning towards the path, looking back to ensure that he follows.

It takes him a moment to register her response, when he does he jogs a few paces to catch up, “I don’t usually do this, you know?”

She doesn’t know: It must be written on her face because he continues, “Drink too much... or at all really,

She shrugs despite feeling a small bit relieved.

“Today was my brother’s last reaping; he wanted to celebrate and was feeling generous... I don’t know, I think he thought he was doing me a favor.”

“By giving you a hangover?” she raises a brow.

“Nah, he wanted me to loosen up. Relax enough so I’d talk to someone.”

She snorts.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“I didn’t suppose you’d need help talking to anyone.”

“It’s a girl.”

Her heart sinks, “You talk to plenty a girls.”

“Not like this.”

She looks down at the plumes of dust her boots kick up as she walks. “So, did you? Talk to her?”

He hums an affirmation.

“And how did it go?”

“Not very well I think. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a drunk… or an oaf, or a clod… probably all three.”

She frowns. A very small part of her thrills at this; Had he succeeded, he might be off with this girl right now rather than here with her. But the greater part of her feels his disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

He grimaces, “and now she pities me, so definitely not good.”

Her eyes go wide and snap to his as realization dawns.

“I should have known the first time we spoke I’d make a fool of myself,” he adds as if in confirmation.

“Me?” Giddy laughter bubbles up, until a breathy giggle escapes.

He groans, “you’re laughing at me? This keeps getting better.”

“Not at you. I’m just… surprised?”

“You know what; Nevermind. Can we just… forget it?”

But she doesn’t want to forget…

Back when she was eleven, her father had been terribly ill but determined to return to work, her mother disagreed. Her parents had argued that night; they never did that. The fight ended with her mother conceding and making their evening tea. But what her father hadn’t known was that she’d added a double dose of sleep syrup to his cup. He slept straight through his shift, only waking when the siren’s had sounded all across town. A section of the mine had collapsed and a number of his crew had been lost along with it, but thanks to her mother’s deception, her father had not been among them.

She’d watched the families that hadn’t been as lucky as hers struggle that winter: some driven to the bottle, others to Cray, and worse still were the children sent to the community home; their neighbors unable or unwilling to help.

She had been among the helpless crowd until the day she noticed the baker’s youngest son sneaking rolls to the starving children that begged at the merchants’ back doors, despite his mother’s ire.

His kindness had taught her that even at eleven she was not powerless to help. As someone who could depend on two meals at home, she had begun forfeiting her lunches to the children at school who had none. Her father too had taken notice, offering guidance and foraging knowledge to any who dared venture past the fence. It was imperfect but it wasn’t nothing.

Ever since that day, she’s kept an eye on Peeta Mellark with a growing fondness she never imagined he could return.

But he does. She doesn’t doubt his sincerity; those years of watching have only strengthened her certainty of his goodness.

They walk in silence for half a minute as she gathers her courage, “So what was your plan? Before your brother decided to help?”

He sighs, “I don’t know. Offer to walk you home, minus falling on my face. Talk about something other than what a fool I am; like our favorite colors or the best time of year to visit the meadow. And by the time we made it to your door, if all had gone well, ask if you’d want to do it again sometime…”

“That sounds nice.”

“What would you have said?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I had asked you out? If things had gone… better than this, do you think you might have considered it?”

They’ve stopped in front of her porch and she stares up at the house to find it quiet and dark: same as the rest of the street. “One minute. Wait here,” she bids instead of answering his question. Ducking in the house, she silently sorts through her mother’s jars until she finds what she’s looking for, measuring and parceling the herbs with practiced hands, the familiarity helping to steady her nerves.

Reemerging, she’s relieved to find him still there. “Make a tea with this tomorrow,” she says as she hands him the packet, “in the meantime drink plenty of water. It should help the headache that’s coming.”

“Sure thing Doctor Everdeen,” he gives a half hearted smile, “thank you.”

He turns to walk away, but her hand shoots out to stop him, landing on his arm, firm and warm under her fingers. His eyes flit from her hand to her face, holding her stare. Her heart flutters, “What if you ask me tomorrow?”

His brows knit together before shooting to his hairline, “yeah?”

She nods, and because the odds have been in her favor so far today, she pops up to her toes, kissing his cheek, “see ya tomorrow Peeta.”

Complicated | What If

#everlark fanfiction #complicated #this would have happened anyway #TWHHA #in Panem #never reaped AU #Mr Everdeen lives

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