#I feel I've made a post/written tags about this before but he could call me any pet name (excluding baby) and I'd be fine with it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pepperonijem · 3 months ago

Text

II. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

"... I'm about to fall for you."

summary: Creative constipation. That's what Levi calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: alcohol consumption, levi is a bumbling mess of feelings, cursing songs mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love -grentperez, buzz - niki || the title of this chapter comes from the song buzz

A/N: I've never written anything that made me blush and twirl my hair the way this chapter did. why am I the one catching feelings rn. should I post the playlist?

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

Hange Zoe is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Levi’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Levi rolled his eyes in return. Hange was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything they could on the dashboard. Their chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction.

“Levi, I like this song,” they huffed as they reached forward to mess with the volume again. With a sigh Levi gave in and looked forward to the drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Hange sang along. Croaked, more like. Hange had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing them right now. But Levi was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Hange wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Hange reached over to turn the volume down. Levi was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Hange’s would have an inverse effect. They looked over at Levi whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Hange began with a smirk in their voice and Levi tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. ��Miche said he saw you dragging Eren’s friend upstairs earlier.” Levi’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Hange didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Levi remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. Hange’s laugh is grating, Levi thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Hange had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks on their own.

“Mr. Ackerman, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Hange continued, laughing to themselves. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Levi huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Hange cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Hange’s home.

“We were looking for those two other brats that hang around Eren,” Levi tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Hange finally relented. They waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Levi thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Hange already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” They spoke again. The teasing lilt in their voice was replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.”

“What do you mean?” Levi asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Hange had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Hange leaned against the window, thinking to themself. “I’m not really sure myself,” they finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.”

The last time Levi wrote a new song was when Erwin was still part of their band.

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Erwin asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Erwin seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His blonde hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore sweatpants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Erwin clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Levi was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a bass before. So when it came time for them to talk, Levi was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m getting married,” Erwin blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Married–”

Hange, Miche, and Levi all spoke at once and Erwin let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Married?” Levi asked again.

Erwin nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Erwin, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Erwin spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Levi had only ever seen when he spoke about his fiance.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Erwin continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Eren, a friend of Erwin’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end of year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns. It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive brat had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Erwin’s news, Levi found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Levi,” Erwin called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Erwin looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Levi supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Levi asked vaguely, but Erwin knew, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Erwin replied. Levi looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Levi nodded thoughtfully at Erwin’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.”

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Erwin spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Erwin glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Levi answered. “Will you?”

Erwin turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Hange was saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Levi agreed. “Me too.”

When Levi came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Erwin had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Erwin off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Levi to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Erwin asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his best friend. To Erwin.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Hange was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Hange recalled the lyrics to his song. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Levi replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Levi,” Hange cooed as they pulled their glasses to sit on top of their hair to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Levi have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Hange and driving the hour back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive.

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Levi was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Levi thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Levi woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Levi?” you said his name with concern.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking,” he explained. “Did you need something?”

“I was going to ask if I could sit next to you,” you began before leaning in towards him and lowering your voice conspiratorially. He could smell your shampoo and the perfume you sprayed on this morning. He felt that flutter again. “Some rando took my seat beside Jean. I think they heard we were picking our partners for the project today.” You subtly gestured over to the girl in your usual seat who was staring intently at Jean who was staring intently at a Fortnite stream on his laptop.

Levi let out an amused chuckle before sliding his backpack off from the seat next to him and pulling it out for you to take. He watched you curiously as you sat down, trying to figure you out. Trying to figure out why he wanted to figure you out so desperately. He resisted the urge to look away when you smiled at him. All he could muster up to do was nod back and hope you didn’t notice him staring.

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply,” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag. Levi paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Hange and Miche had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Levi’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Levi found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Jean and Eren when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Levi answered, nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details. But this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Levi recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical.

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Levi’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Hange’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Miche’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Eren, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Erwin’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Hange or Miche or even Eren now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Levi was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Levi eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.”

Levi could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Erwin’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into his notebook. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Levi, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Levi spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Levi turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Eren groaning as he looked over at Jean. Jean looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat – unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Levi was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Levi watched you stifle a chuckle and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note.

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Levi’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down.

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Levi was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Levi reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Levi was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Levi sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner:

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Jean to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at Eren’s party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Jean, who Levi watched get shot down by a blonde girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. Clean. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Levi thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Hange always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold.

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Levi, are you free this evening?

Before Levi could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Levi scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Levi: Sure Levi: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Levi felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Hange was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Levi walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Hey Levi,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Levi cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Levi replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Eren on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.”

Levi felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Eren pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Levi couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Levi let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-”

“You’re rambling,” Levi cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Levi felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Levi about how you’d met Eren, Armin, and Mikasa. How Armin had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Mikasa was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Eren, who was your next door neighbor, had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Levi told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Hange wanted to call themselves The Titans “because it’s funny. Because you’re short.” And when Levi pounced across the table, Miche suggested The Walls which Levi hated even more. It wasn’t until Erwin dragged him back to his seat on the couch of Erwin’s apartment that Erwin decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Levi had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Erwin’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Levi remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously.

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Levi nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Levi’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Levi thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Levi probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Levi found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards.

Levi: Hey Levi: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow? My place?? Levi had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

“Like a phone toss when it's risky and you hit send.”

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Levi: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Levi looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Levi didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

a/n: some more fun facts! This chapter was so fun to write. 1) Eren, who'd never admit it out loud, actually knows all his friends' go-to drinks. He often brings his bandmates drinks as apology for being late to practice 2) Armin is the biggest social butterfly of the group. He's just really kind and disarming. 3) I gave myself butterflies writing the scene where Levi is playing on the piano with you beside him.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #captain levi #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x you #attack on titan #aot #aot headcanons #aot x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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mvskedxrtist · 11 months ago

Note

Let’s take a crack at a Hazbin request:

Reader (whatever gender you’d like) x Lucifer, I feel like he’d have some fun kinks? So maybe the reader giving Lucifer a reward after he was instructed not to touch himself for the last few days, being constantly edged to an orgasm but just barely not getting to and quickly becoming a mess.

I’m thinking specifically edging, praise, maybe some light degradation about how pathetic he’s being, getting oral and fingering

(Everything else I leave to your capable hands :3)

-💜

Such a Good Angel

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Edging, Mommy Kink, Praise, Fingering, Light Degration, Oral (M Receiving), Cockwarming, Nipple Play

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Another request means another star in my sky of smut. Thank you for requesting! I'm surprised at myself that I've had so much motivation to post but it just means y'all get this earlier than expected. Also: requests are open! I take 3 requests at a time, please read the rules and how to requests, also remember that I don't just do Hazbin so please look at other fandoms I've written for. Last but not least, I'm starting a tag list!! So if you want to be tagged for all posts just comment! If you want to be tagged for a specific fandom, just comment that as well!

Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @hobbylobbyy

AFAB!Reader x Lucifer Morningstar - Such a Good Angel

It was a few days before the infamous call Charlie gave to her dad to visit the hotel. And in the days before, you had made a cute bet with Lucifer. If he could go a week without touching himself or trying to get off, then he'd get a large prize that'd last the whole day. If he didn't, well there would be a punishment in store for the big boss of hell.

And he was doing ok for the challenge. There were a few times he almost lost himself in the pleasure an came but he stopped himself which impressed you quite much. And then the day that Charlie called him, was actually the day before the end of the challenge. And you decided to just add one last thing for this challenge because of Charlotte's call. If Lucifer did rekindle his relationship with Charlie, the challenge can end right there and he'd get his gift.

So when Lucifer came back very giddy and excited but exhausted, that just told you all that you wanted.

You led Lucifer into bed and kissed him passionately as you slid his shirt up and started rubbing his nipples gently. "So cute under me, baby~" You chuckled and squeezed his nipples gently, hearing his soft high pitched moans. "H-hah~ mommy~" Lucifer held your arms gently until you released his nipples and pushed him down onto the bed more.

"My sweet fallen angel~ so sensitive already~ You're doing amazing for such a needy boy~" You teased him and chuckled softly, taking his pants off. Lucifer looked completely flushed but smiled at you, squealing gently when your mouth enveloped his entire length. "M-mommy!~" He could feel his eyes roll back and released his wings out quickly out of the stimulation.

You looked up and chuckled, pulling his cock out of your mouth but sliding your fingers into his asshole. "My, my, Luci~ crumbling like a little bitch in heat~" You taunted him and started fingering him faster, looking at his already teary face. "N-nghh~ t-too much Mommy~" He panted heavily and looked like he wanted to stop you but he let you continue the immense pleasure.

Lucifer looked like he was about to cum all over himself but whimpered loudly when you pulled your fingers out of him. "What was that for, Mommy?!" "I'm not done yet, Lucifer.~ And don't you want to be a good angel for me?~"

#my writing #smut #top reader #mvsked.writing #fem reader #femdxm #top fem reader #dom fem reader #dom reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #vivziepop #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel

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this-is-a-podcast-fanblog · 8 months ago

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welcome to night vale kind of sucks

I can't believe I'm doing this again but here goes: I'm writing a call out post for the behaviors made by my favorite podcasters. I love Night Vale. Let me make that clear. My whole blog is Night Vale. I've cosplayed Night Vale. I've been in this fandom for eight years, and I've been holding out hope that the show will become "good" again for a long time. I've been a fan while simultaneously acknowledging some of their very harmful behavior. But this last episode just really cemented for me how the issues with their writing are not just failures of plot and theme, they are actively harming the communities that support them. Night Vale has turned from the show that canonized a queer relationship in 2013 and celebrated its thousands of fans, to something devoid of passion and almost unrecognizable in its messaging. These issues have been present for a while, but now they are everywhere in the show. They're completely overwhelming.

Why did an abused person not only forgive their abuser and say that he was "doing the best he could"? No, really - we had an entire season about generational trauma, a deeply personal topic for many people, and then you paint an abusive father as "misguided"? It's a slap in the face. Why do prominent female characters, particularly antagonists, always get either killed off or written out of the story by... ascending into the stars I guess? (So Lauren's the most powerful foe ever but then she's defeated by six people telling her they don't like her. Cool cool.) Why did the writers deradicalize a Black woman whose original story was about her courage and opposition to authority? Why was Tamika's role this season to be a caretaker for The Boy instead of her position in local government? Why is there only one recurring trans character in the show?

The worst thing of all for me though is the partnership with Betterhelp. Betterhelp, which sells people's data and has been called out for it time and time again. There was no excuse for them to take this sponsorship, especially when, oh yeah people were calling it out for endorsing conversion therapy. There are doctors on Betterhelp who have OFFERED CONVERSION THERAPY, and that's who they're promoting to their majority queer audience. But there's especially no excuse for this sponsorship when BetterHelp is collaborating with the Israeli Occupation Force. When Betterhelp is publicly associating itself with the army that burns people alive, that bombs hospitals, and is actively colonizing Palestine.

And before anyone says, "Mercury, why are you only writing a call out for the Betterhelp thing now after you didn't like this episode?" Well, I've been publicly calling them out for MONTHS over this. I've replied to almost every episode's Q&A to tell them they need to stop this partnership as well as replying to them on their socials asking why they're still working with this company.

Plus, this isn't just me disliking this episode - I'm seeing posts on the wtnv tag from abuse survivors who got extremely triggered by this and it just breaks my heart. Genuinely, why did they do that? This arc had such beautiful and introspective writing about parenting and it feels like they just threw it all away.

I don't know what note to end this on. I really hope they take their hiatus to reassess some business practices and write a better season. And mostly that they stop partnering with Betterhelp.

@nightvaleofficial

#wtnv #tw abuse #please please listen to me and don't take this the wrong way #please don't twist my words #I'm saying this as a fan!!!!#welcome to night vale #wtnv spoilers

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panelshowsource · 2 months ago

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my IMMEDIATE thought is judi love, right?? her and roisin 1000% not even one show each, A SHOW WITH THEM TOGETHER 😍 and it's called JUDI & ROISIN'S DOUBLE DATES 😍

hahahaha absolutely! do you remember the stationary shop / pun guessing task that tim vine did on taskmaster s6? i always thought victoria would have enjoyed every single thing about that, just my intuition...

hahahaha this is so cute! they got married not to terribly long ago, so no worries. don't you love how sweetly they speak about each other 🥹 you know, when i saw richard at his last book signing in new york, he told a quick story about how ingrid had recently written for a doctor who publication and that she is super engrossed in & proud of the doctor who world 🥹🥹🥹 (made me so happy!!! bc i'm also a massive dw fan (i make those gifs on my main!) 🥹)

this is my modest richard and ingrid tag 🥹 i hope to flesh it out even more over time hehe

yes i've been listening to these!! they keep teasing a nish kumar one coming up that is supposed to be very special in some way?

anyways the richard osman one was very sweet because there was tons of kitten talk (LOVE) and you can tell how much richard adores david — which means he had a lot of fun teasing him hahaha that's what makes richard such a good podcast guest: he's such a comedy fan!

also enjoyed the eps with ivo and sam campbell, and i'm gonna listen to at least ed gamble, rose matafeo, and amy gledhill this weekend!

are you guys liking it??

i've def seen it (i saw the comedy blogs advertising the pilot) but i'm gonna be sooo honest and say i haven't had time to give it a listen yet TT have you?? i'm obsessed with both of them and will DEF listen to it this week! i'll post my thoughts :)

honestly, i think there are more comedy writers and comedy actors than proper comedians that i would like to read bios of. simon pegg comes to mind first! i also think it would be fascinating to read a kind of day-by-day journal of a proper circuit comedian, someone who could humorously and truthfully document the lifestyle. did you have someone in mind who hasn't written one?

as for books that are already published, i really want to read bonkers by jen saunders as well as richard e grant's semi-new autobiography (i'm worried it's going to be exceptionally sad since he'll always be dealing with the passing of his wife and he's very open about grief 🥺), so hopefully i get around to those before too long!

i haven't, tbh i never watched miranda, not going out, or even call the midwife — so even though i've obviouslyyy seen her around, sometimes on panel shows, and absolutely acknowledge how big she was/is, i don't carry enough nostalgia to read her whole bio. THAT SAID, i agree she was so so touching on graham norton and i think her stories both about her health and about finding love were SO LOVELY 💜 but if you tell me it's a must read then i'll definitely check it out!

and for anyone who's interested i added the audiobook to my drive :)

okay this scared me HAHAHA because as much as that is obviously not true if one uses a single modicum of common sense i am so easily fooled—

anyways it was a sweet episode! i don't really listen to that show but i was hoping to hear more about joe's particular approach to parenting, and even though he is clearly very private it was endearing. i love how much he loves birmingham (as someone who doesn't really have a hometown it's something i'm always fascinated by and envious of in others), and he really put his foot down about his sexuality! he was like "bi is bi, pan is pan, it's on you if you wanted to call me gay anyways" and PERIOD KING !! anyways, super happy for him. i have a feeling he won't post very much about it or even talk much about it in general, but i selfishly hope he does 🥹

it was a cute episode!! highlights for me include rob being extremely new to the concept of kimchi, rob claiming he doesn't understand why people care so much about seasoning (my fellow americans, have fun with that one), and rob roasting steve coogan lmaooo also i never get sick of the alan bennett impression i love how it's almost tom courtenay it's hilarious to me

i've loved a lot of the recent eps, especially the ones with matthew macfadyen and richard e grant (funniest man alive)! and i watched the gordon ramsay episode like 5 times, it was sooo interesting and soooooo sweet to hear about his relationship with angela!

one thing i really like about this show — besides how awesome angela is — is that nick asks the genuine questions someone who isn't big into cooking would ask. like, when they were eating the rib eye, he was like, "if someone wanted to make this at home, what would they ask the butcher for? is this a specific cut of meat?" and even though it's like 'lol yeah nick...rib eye...' people who aren't familiar with cooking beef wouldn't have known that! he asks about cuts, measurements, cooking times, that sort of thing in a way that feels genuine and curious, which i appreciate (as someone who doesn't cook a lot lmao)

for sure!

hello anon! these are always posted on reddit every single night that they air, i recommend sending a polite "hello would you kindly add me to the sub?" message (you don't need to get fancier or more specific than that; they have to keep the sub private for obvious reasons so no need to feel intimidated) to r/TV_NCA so you can snag those links each week

sure anon i'll work on that for you this weekend xx

—

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / ASK

#a #ohneweiterbedeutung #homoerotisch

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sequinsmile-x · 7 months ago

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Coup de Grâce

Something had to give, she knew that, and she couldn't let it be her family.

-x-

Note: Tags aren't working properly because *tumblr* so I can't do the tag list currently. For context - I have to type the list ON MY PHONE and even that isn't working beyond the first 5 tags. I'll figure out a long term plan - but if you want to be notified for now maybe turn on post notifications for me!

-x-

Hi friends,

This is very much sponsored by my recent insomnia and a recent re-watch of Grey's Anatomy from the start. As with every fic I've ever written in the middle of the night when I can't sleep this has a LOT of feels.

The 5 + 1 fic I've been talking about is coming I promise <3

Please let me know what you think about this, it's been a hot minute since I wrote something sad so I hope I've still got it.

-x-

Warnings: Alzheimer's

Read over on Ao3, or under the cut

She’s slow to wake up, her body heavy as she rolls onto her back, groaning and pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

She opens her eyes, her lashes almost glued together by sleep and exhaustion, and she looks at her husband, unsurprised to find him already awake and dressed sitting on her side of the bed. His hand is on her waist, his thumb tracing slowly back and forth across the edge of her ribcage.

“Morning,” she rasps, and the sound of her voice makes her wince, thick and rough and another indicator of how tired she was, “I’m sorry I got home so late.”

Aaron and the kids had been asleep when she got home. She’d checked in on Jack as she walked past his room, leaning down to kiss his forehead and tuck the covers back around him from where they’d slipped down in his sleep. She’d done the same for Hazel, taking a moment to tuck some of her dark hair behind her ear, staring at the 7-year-old’s features in the low light of the room. She felt a brief flash of panic when she found her youngest daughter’s room empty, but when she realised that the bed hadn’t even been slept in, still as neatly made as it had been that morning, there would only be one place she’d find her.

It had eased some of the tension in her chest that was ever present these days when she walked into the master bedroom to find Aaron and Ivy fast asleep, the 4-year-old tucked up against her father, her tiny fingers tangled in the neckline of his t-shirt. Emily had barely remembered to take her make-up off before she changed into her pjyamas and climbed into bed with them, curling herself around her husband and her little girl, seeking out the comfort that only they and Jack and Hazel could bring.

“It’s okay,” he says, squeezing her waist, pressing his love into her through the callouses on his thumb and fingers, the slight roughness of his skin against hers drawing her back to herself a little, “I’m sorry I had to wake you up, I let you sleep in as much as I could but Garica just called about a case.”

She sighs and she sits up, immediately sinking into the embrace he always had ready and waiting for her. Her cheek presses against his suit jacket and she smiles when he kisses her forehead, “Are the kids okay? Ivy was in here when I got home.”

“They’re fine, they are all downstairs eating breakfast,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back, “Ivy asked if she could sleep in here and we both know I can’t say no to her.”

She hums and pulls back to look at him, “She knows that too.”

He smiles and she can’t help but cup his cheek, her thumb against his dimple as she tugs him in for a kiss, the press of his lips against hers warming her from the inside out. She rests her forehead against his after she pulls back, desperate to have a few moments of solitude with the man she loves, something that had always been rare but was close to non-existent these days. It left her on edge, uneasy in a way that she hadn’t felt in years, and she could feel her long buried instinct to run clawing its way out where she’d buried it.

“How was your mom last night?”

His question makes her sigh, her eyes drifting shut as she holds him a little tighter, her fist creasing the material of his freshly-pressed jacket, “Like she always is,” she pulls back and looks at him, her smile sad, “She thought I was a nurse, which I guess is better than thinking I’m the sister she hasn’t spoken to in 30 years,” she sighs, and it catches on a humourless laugh, her chest aching with it, “At least this way she actually talks to me. She was mostly talking about me to me though. And the kids.”

When she looked back on it, the early warning signs had been there for a while. Her mother had become forgetful, missing dinners they’d planned and Jack’s birthday, his card and gift arriving a few days late after Emily had prompted her. It had been easy enough to dismiss as a sign of just getting older, nothing more nefarious than the forgetfulness that came with still leading a busy life. Emily had tried to talk Elizabeth into retiring, or at least pull back on the amount of work she was doing for a while, but she’d always refused, claiming that staying busy kept her healthy. It was only when the personality change had started, when she’d show disinterest in her grandchildren, that Emily realised something was wrong. Things had deteriorated quickly, and only a few months after her diagnosis, the world Alzheimer's and its impact still reverberating outwards, the ripples of it still leaving the ground beneath them shaky, Elizabeth was now living in a home.

Even though she no longer recognised her, Emily went to visit her every evening after work. It felt like her penance, like she deserved to sit opposite the woman who had barely shown her affection even when she did recognise her, because she should have seen what was happening sooner. No matter what Aaron said, no matter how he tried to assure her that this wasn’t something she could have changed, she was sure that if she wasn’t so caught up in her own life, if she wasn’t so busy basking in the beautiful, ordinary happiness she’d found she would have seen the change in Elizabeth before she had.

“She talked about the kids?” Aaron asks, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, his touch lingering on her neck afterwards, the beat of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Yeah,” her smile shakes and she looks down, “She told me she has a grandson called Jack and a newborn granddaughter called Hazel,” she presses her lips together as her eyes meet his, “She doesn’t seem to remember Ivy at all.”

Her mother may not have ever been the mother she’d wanted or needed, but she’d been a fantastic grandmother from the get-go. She’d lavished Jack, and the girls when they came along, with the attention and love Emily had always craved, what she’d looked for in all the wrong places for most of her life. On her worst days, Emily envied what her children had with Elizabeth, hated that it took becoming a grandmother for her to soften in the way she’d always refused to do for her own daughter.

Aaron sighs, something she feels pass from his chest to hers, “Em-”

“We should get going,” she says, her smile tight as she removes herself from his grip and stands up. If she let herself fall apart, if she let him comfort her like she so desperately wanted, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to slot all the pieces of her back into place. The weight of it all was too much. Her job, her family who she missed even though they were right here with her, her mother and the illness she couldn’t save her from, “I haven’t even showered yet.”

She can feel him watching her from where he’s still sitting on the bed, his gaze unrelenting as he weighs if it’s worth pushing her to talk to him or not, but he relents, he stands up and walks over, his touch ghosting across her waist as he kisses her temple.

“I’ll go make you some tea and something to eat.”

She smiles her thanks and watches him go. Her smile falls the moment she’s alone and she closes her eyes, breathing out a slow breath, the taste of sorrow thick on her tongue, before she shakes her head at herself and starts the day.

___

She’s grateful when the case is local, that she won’t have to go across the country on top of everything else.

She only half listens as Penelope briefs them, embarrassment burning up her neck when she asks a question she realises has already been answered during the briefing. It’s one of many tiny mistakes she’d been making lately, another question she usually wouldn’t ask, another moment which made her feel like she was failing at everything. Aaron cuts Derek off as he tries to tease her with a stern look and a clearing of his throat, and it’s forgotten by everyone other than her.

No one knew about her mother’s illness. It was one of the last promises Emily had made to her during one of their last conversations when Elizabeth was lucid, her reputation and image important to her until the end. It meant that not only did the team not know about what was happening, but that Emily and Aaron were actively lying to them. They turned down pasta nights and nights out, their life now a pattern of work, visits to the home and far too little family time for Emily’s liking.

Emily knew it didn’t stop there, that Aaron was covering for her with the higher-ups too. She’d been making errors in her paperwork that he was correcting for her with no comment, something she’d only found out when she overheard Strauss talking to another Section Chief in the bathroom. She hadn’t mentioned it to Aaron yet, not sure if she was angry or thought it was sweet, or if it was somewhere between the two, but it was just another thing that was falling at the wayside whilst her life collapsed in on her.

She’s trying to read a crime scene report when she hears it, a voice she hasn’t heard in years pulling her out of her work as she looks up, a friend of her mother’s, a fellow ambassador, walking toward her.

“Emily Prentiss, it’s been a long time,” she says, smiling widely as Emily stands up and shakes her hand.

“Ambassador Diaz,” she says, her eyes flicking over to Aaron standing just a few paces behind the woman in front of her, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh please, call me Claudia. And I was just helping Agent Hotchner with some details about the case you’re on,” she says, her smile wide, and Emily wonders when she’d missed that detail about the case, if it was something Penelope had explained to them that morning, “I understand he’s your husband.”

Emily chuckles and nods, knowing that Claudia’s curiosity would have been piqued by the pictures she would have seen on Aaron’s desk, “Yes, he” she replies, smiling at Aaron, “You don’t get much chance to date outside of the BAU, so there were limited options.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, the joke a familiar one, something she’d made at countless events of her mother’s that they’d gone to together over the years. It was her way of fighting back against the intrigue, the underlying implication of what it meant to not only be married to her boss, but to a man they’d consider beneath her.

Claudia smiles politely, “How is your mother by the way? I haven’t seen her in a long time, is she on assignment?”

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room and her lungs burn with it, the seemingly innocent question one she should have anticipated but hadn’t. The team's curious gaze that mere seconds ago hadn’t bothered her makes her skin tingle, and she swallows thickly, well aware that she had to give a suitable answer that wouldn’t draw attention to everything she’d been hiding for months.

“Yes,” she replies, looking at Aaron again, the empathy and love she can see in his eyes threatening to overwhelm her, “She’s in the Middle East.”

“Oh,” Claudia replies, her smile still endlessly polite, “Well, next time you speak to her tell her I send my regards.”

Emily nods, shaking her hand again as she turns to leave, their polite interaction, something her childhood had been stuffed full of, at an end, “I will.”

She excuses herself from the bullpen as soon as it won’t draw attention to her. She sneaks down a hallway that is always quiet, the supply closet at the end of it rarely used since the one with all the best stationery was closer to their desks. She leans against the wall, the lie about her mother still sitting on her tongue, the weight of it pressing on her lungs. She crosses her arms over her chest and blows out a shaky breath, her eyes closed as she rests her head back against the wall, the slight thunk of it echoing throughout the empty hallway.

Her solitude is brief, the clicking of Penelope’s heels on the floor giving her away a second before she speaks.

“Em, are you alright?”

She suppresses a bitter laugh, “Yeah,” she says, standing up straight and turning to look at her friend, “I’m fine, I just needed a minute.”

She tries to step past Penelope but she stands in her way, her hands on her hips in defiance as she stops Emily from even asking her what she is doing, “If you think that’s going to satisfy me you have another thing coming,” she says, her tone as fierce as it ever got, “You and boss man have been shady for months,” she wraps her arm around Emily’s shoulder and starts to lead her down the hallway, “At first, I thought you might be making me an aunt again to one of your gorgeous children.”

Emily laughs as she lets herself be led towards Penelope’s office, “Pen, I’m 48. I don’t know if another kid would be more of an inconvenience or a miracle.”

Penelope hums sympathetically and closes her office door behind them, only letting go of Emily once they are alone, “And when it became clear that wasn’t what was going on…” she clears her throat as she sits down and encourages Emily to do the same thing, “I…did some sleuthing.”

Emily’s eyes go wide, anger burning through her quickly, so hot and fierce it burns out before she can express it. It’s chased by anxiety, forcing her to swallow thickly, “What did you do?”

Penelope has the decency to look embarrassed, her cheeks tinged almost the same shade of pink as her cardigan and she clasps her hands together in her lap, “I want to make it clear everything I did I did out of love and concern. The last time you were acting like this was when Doyle was after you and-”

“Pen,” she says, cutting her off, not needing the reminder of one of the worst times of her life on top of everything else, “What did you do?”

Penelope sighs at the repeated question and she sighs, her lips briefly pressed together before she answers, “I know about your mom.”

Even though she could see that this was where the conversation was going, it still feels like a kick to the gut. She stares at her friend for a moment, conflicting feelings of anger and relief that someone knew mixing in her gut, “How did you find out?”

“You were disappearing after work so frequently, and I heard Ivy say she missed you tucking her at night the last time I saw her. And I know how important that is to you so I knew something was wrong,” Penelope says, and Emily somehow feels worse at the mention of her youngest, guilt that her little girl was missing her threatening to drown her, “So…I tracked your phone one night and saw you were spending your evenings at a nursing home out in Arlington,” she wrings her hands together in her lap, “After that, it wasn’t hard to put together.”

She chuckles, the sound catching in her throat and she shakes her head, “Most people would think I was cheating on my husband or something.”

It’s a bad joke, but it makes Penelope smile, and it’s enough to make Emily feel more comfortable.

“Well, if you weren’t so disgustingly in love with Hotch I’m sure it would have crossed my mind,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on Emily’s arms, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

She shrugs half-heartedly, “She said she didn’t want anyone to know. And even though…even though she’s not really there anymore, and everything that made her her has been stripped away, I didn’t want to betray that.”

Penelope squeezes her arm, “I won’t tell anyone,” she says, “I haven’t told anyone,” she adds, “But I wanted you to know that I know, so you have someone else to talk to if you want.”

She still isn’t sure how she should feel, if this was an invasion of her privacy she shouldn’t let slide, but right now, still unsteady from her encounter with someone from her mother’s life, she was grateful for it.

“Do you know what she has?” She asks, and Penelope shakes her head.

“Only that she’s been a resident there for five months.”

Emily nods, “She has Alzheimer’s, it’s advanced. She no longer remembers who I am, and she doesn’t really know where she is,” she swallows thickly, her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth as she tries to stop herself from crying, a humourless laugh escaping as she tries to relax.

“Oh, Peaches, I’m sorry. It’s an awful disease.”

“It’s also completely removed her filter. So she’s finally saying every awful thought she’s ever had about me,” she smiles sadly and purposely avoids her friend's gaze, her sympathy burning through her skin, leaving behind marks Emily was sure would be permanent, her emotional trauma on display for everyone to see in a grim pattern painted across her face, “Except, she’s not saying them to me. She’s saying them to my 7-year-old daughter who she thinks is me,” she hears Penelope’s gasp, as if her imagination could conjure up just how awful it had been to hold her little girl as she cried and begged to know why grandma had said all those horrible things. Hazel had fallen asleep pressed up against her that night, her face warm and sticky on Emily’s neck, her daughter’s grief and confusion a vice around her heart that even Aaron hadn’t been able to loosen. “So now I don’t take the kids to go and see her because I won’t put them through it. Aaron stays home with them and I go and see her alone and it’s awful. And part of me wonders why I go at all because she doesn’t know me, and even if she speaks about me it’s not kind. But…”

She drifts off, the rest of her sentence stuck in her throat, bitter and cloying as she struggles to say it. It’s like she’s drowning on dry land, pulled under by a riptide of grief that was pre-emptive and too late all at once. Grief for the relationship she never had with her mother. Grief for the one she did have that was now gone. Grief for when she’d lose her entirely, when her children would lose her too, when they’d lose the grandmother who, until recently, had done nothing but shower them with the love and kindness Emily had craved as a child.

It would be Hazel and Ivy’s first brush with death and Jack’s second, something Emily had hoped to spare them for a little longer.

“She’s still your mom.”

It’s only when she looks up at Penelope that she realises she’d looked away at all, her focus having unintentionally fallen to her wedding rings as she twisted them around her fingers. A nervous habit that had long replaced picking at her cuticles, the touch of the metal against her skin, the spin of it as the diamonds of her engagement ring knocked on the neighbouring fingers, a well-needed reminder that she wasn’t alone. That she hadn’t been in years.

“Yeah,” she pressed her lips together to contain the shake of them, “She’s still my mom.”

___

It’s late when she gets home.

She sighs as she steps into the house, her shoulders slumping the second she closes the front door and shrugs off her jacket. She’s nothing short of relieved when Aaron appears in the hallway, his socks dulling his footfall against the hardwood floor, because the thought of not speaking to him, of having to make do with falling asleep next to him and hoping his warmth would make her feel better, almost too much to bear.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says as he makes it to her side, his lips against her forehead, “Did you eat?”

She nods, thinking idly about the takeout wrappers stuffed in the door of her car, and she places her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she unzips her boots, “Yeah, I had dinner on the way home.”

He drops his hands to her waist, holding her still as she switches to her other boot, “Do you want something to drink?” He asks, and she nods, “Wine or hot chocolate?”

She smiles as she lowers her foot back to the floor, “Hot chocolate,” she says, tugging him closer as he tries to step away, pressing herself against his chest, using the height difference now she was no longer in heels to tuck her head underneath his chin, “Can we do this first, though?”

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, his embrace firm and soft all at once as he tilts his head just enough to drop a kiss on her hairline, “Of course,” he replies, “Want to go sit on the couch for a bit?”

She nods and they walk towards the living room together, their arms still wrapped around the other, tangling them like vines. She practically sits on top of him on the couch, her legs over his lap, her arms wrapped around one of his as she hugs it to her chest, and her cheek on her shoulder. She was trying to leach all the comfort out of him, all the love and affection she knew would make everything better if it was possible, if him loving her was enough to make her mother better, if it could stop the inevitable, she knew it would.

“How was it tonight?” He asks softly, his spare hand heavy and warm on her thigh, his thumb tracing back and forth on the seam of her pants.

“I told her that I saw Claudia,” she smiles sadly, pulling back to look at him, “She lit up like she hasn’t in weeks. She told me about a time when they were on the same assignment back in 1978,” she presses her lips together, “She said something about me too. Said her daughter was wild and unruly,” she shakes her head, her laugh sad as it bursts past her ribs, “But I would have been Hazel’s age…and just a normal 7-year-old. Then she asked if I have kids.”

His eyes drift closed as he sighs, his grip on her leg tighter for a second, and he kisses her forehead, “Em, if you took a break from visiting no one would judge you,” he pulls back to look at her, I know it’s not easy.”

She shakes her head, already dismissing the suggestion he’d tried to raise before, “No, I can’t. It wouldn’t feel right,” she licks her lips before she bites the lower one, her teeth sinking into the flesh of it as she gives herself a moment to prepare herself for what she’d wanted to say for weeks, “I do think something has to give though.”

He frowns, his hand leaving her thigh, the phantom feel of it still lingering, so he can tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “What do you mean?”

“I feel like I’m failing at everything, Aaron,” she says, shaking her head as she looks at him, “I’m failing at being a daughter, at being a mother, a wife. I keep making mistakes at work and…something has got to give and it cannot be this,” she says, her hand thrown up as she indicates their home, what it represents, “It can’t be our family.”

“Em, sweetheart, you aren’t failing at anything, least of all being a mom and a wife,” he says fiercely, protective of her even when it was her he was protecting her from.

“I feel like I hardly see the kids at the moment,” she says, shaking her head, “And I know you’re covering for me at work with some things,” she adds, her lips twitching into a smile when he frowns in confusion, “I heard Strauss talking about the paperwork.”

He clears his throat, “Em-”

“I’m not mad,” she clarifies, reaching for his hand and tangling it with hers, “I know you’re just trying to help. But…I’ve been thinking about it and I think I should take a leave of absence from work until…” she trails off, the fact that the thing that would bring this stressful season of her life to an end would be her mother dying a painful reality she didn’t know how to face.

“Until things are a little easier,” he finishes for her, always in pace with her and what she was thinking.

She nods, “Yeah,” she replies, her voice thick as tears she’d been suppressing all day push at the back of her eyes, “I could go see Mom during the day, the nurses say she’s a little more lucid then anyway, and then I could be here in the evenings,” she wipes her cheeks as tears splash down onto them, “I could pick the kids up from school and pretend I’m not going to take them for doughnuts on the way home,” her smile shakes as he smiles at her softly, his thumb delicate against her skin as he wipes her tears away for her, “And I could put Ivy to bed, help Jack and Hazel with their homework. I could just be their mom again, instead of the daughter of someone who doesn’t even know who I am.”

He nods, pulling her closer as he rubs comforting circles on her back, the warmth of her tears burning against the skin of his neck, “I’ll support you no matter what, sweetheart,” he turns his head to kiss her cheek, “You know that. I’ll go to talk to Strauss with you tomorrow if you want.”

She nods and pulls back, “Yes, I’d like that.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a tiny voice in the doorway, “Mommy?”

They both turn to see Ivy standing there, her hair and pjyamas wrinkled, her favourite toy, a stuffed sloth that Penelope had bought her, hanging from her hand and dragging along the floor.

“Hi sweet girl,” Emily says, “You should be sleeping.”

“Bad dream,” Ivy replies, still rubbing at her eyes, her lower lip trembling a little. Emily pulls back from Aaron and holds her arms out.

“Come here, sweetie,” she says, smiling when Ivy wastes no time in running over, all but throwing herself into her mother’s arms after she clambers onto the couch, “Mommy’s got you,” she kisses her head, breathing in the comforting scent of her little girl, “Want to tell me and Daddy about the dream.”

“There’s a monster in my closet,” she says seriously, a frown that was all Aaron fixed across her face as she looks at her parents, “He got you Mommy.”

The ache in her chest is palpable, hollow and full of grief at the knowledge that her daughter’s subconscious would have picked up on her increased absence at home. She holds Ivy even tighter, and feels Aaron do the same as he loops his arms around them both.

“I’m right here, baby,” she says, “And you know what Daddy is really good at?” She says, fake enthusiasm wrapped around every word, “He’s the best monster chaser in the world.”

Ivy’s eyes go wide as she looks between the two of them, “Really?”

“Really,” Emily confirms, looking up at her husband, “He chases mine away all the time.” It’s an all too brief moment of sincerity between the two of them, hidden in the pretence of calming down their daughter, but she knows he understands, his hold on her briefly tighter before he unwraps himself from around them.

“I also make the best hot chocolate in the world,” he says, winking at Ivy when she smiles widely, delighted by the idea of her favourite drink, “I’ll go chase away the monster and make some hot chocolate,” he drops kisses to each of their foreheads, “You two sit here and look pretty.”

Emily hums, love for him filling the gap in her chest, allowing her to forget, however briefly, just how complicated life had become recently.

“Good thing we’re excellent at that, huh Ivy?” She says, smiling when the little girl nods as she settles in her lap. Ivy’s smile fades and she presses her hand to Emily’s cheek, her fingers touching drying tear tracks.

“Mommy, are you sad?”

She sighs and grabs Ivy’s hand, pressing a kiss to her tiny knuckles, “I’m a little sad, baby. But I’ll be okay.”

Ivy frowns and leans forward, stamping a kiss on her mother’s forehead, something Emily did for all of her children when they were sick or sad. When she pulls back she has a serious look on her face, and the expression makes her look so much like Aaron it makes Emily ache.

“Better?”

In reality, she knew nothing had changed. She still needed to get her leave of absence approved, still needed to figure out what she wanted to do long term, how she’d balance looking after her mother and everything that came with it and her family. But right in this moment, the phantom feel of a kiss from her daughter still tingling on her forehead, the press of her little girl's innocence passing from her skin into her own, she lets herself feel better.

“Yes, sweet girl,” she says, hugging Ivy to her chest, “I’m feeling much better.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction

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asukiess · 2 months ago

Text

writing year in review ✍️

tagged by the spouses. 🫶

what a year it was for writing.

JANUARY

annotated (felinette)

Félix and Marinette share a quiet moment together in the shared space of Adrien's bedroom.

FEBRURARY

time marches back (loveyblanc)

“But you and me, I think we could have a lot of fun together!” it's the last thing she remembers before chat blanc hurls her against a wall.

MARCH

the secrets we keep (post s5 adrien character study)

In the wake of a summer that Adrien never wanted to end, all that he wishes to push away comes back to haunt him when the school years starts again: self-doubt from identities that feel no more real than anything else; ghosts of parents who still talk to him; and most all, a fear that the people he loves will leave him in time, too. however, maybe the person who can relate most to him is the one he's never far from.

JUNE

cordially yours, nathalie sancoeur (nathalie character study)

the letter is addressed formally in a way that suggests unfamiliarity, and nathalie appreciated this. it eased the irritation. an apology bookended by 'madame' and 'très cordialement'. or: nathalie receives an email from her parents and reflects.

I love this fic. I love this fic forever.

AUGUST

for the hope of it all (eminath)

"in five years, there’s a house on the water. adrien’s fumbling with the rope knot keeping our sailboat tied to the dock. you’re watching him from the sand.” a pause, and then: “alive, i might add.” or: nathalie tells her boss's wife just how she plans on stealing her away.

SEPTEMBER

the light that throws itself on everything (eminath)

the light that throws itself on everything, stretching twice, at dusk and again at dawn, agrees to stay, but only for a while.

this was a really exciting experience for me. I'm really, really happy with this, and happy for what it has done for me creatively.

NOVEMBER

as the wren sheds her feather (emilie & adrien)

Just as he had been born for her, she’d been born for this. Looking down at the creation of her own making, her own desperate wish manifested, she praised how well he lied. So human, he told with his pricked-purple skin and ten toes and ten fingers, his golden hair thickened with tissue and blood. So human, and yet there was a palpable thrumming in her wedding ring, a hummingbird’s heartbeat around her finger that now made her more than a wife—it made her a mother. So human. From viscera, with love. Just like any other. or: everyone comes to terms with adrien's arrival.

one of my favorite things I've ever written. this is it.

wips under the cut that fill in the missing months: emma dupain cheng horror fic, you should be happy series, as well as a whole lot of eminath, including one where they're teenage runaways.

APRIL

you look like...

here's a fun one. emma dupain cheng, notable theater kid, puts on her school's production of Hamlet. she begins to begins to think Emilie is the ghost. she begins to develop a kind of god complex. she begins to believe her girlfriend, Marcie, playing Ophelia, won't make it out of the play alive.

MAY help you clean (the blood off your paws)

part three of the you should be happy series. adrien contemplates snapping himself. it's a shame that felix is always looking out for him.

they fight for a while. ladybug shows up, adrien tries to punch felix, misses, accidentally punches her in the mouth.

JULY

circa 1995

I have 10k words for this fic. I was obsessed. I have a WHOLE outline. Emilie runs away from London, aged sixteen, and bumps into Nathalie, who picks up a summer job in Paris to leave an ex-girlfriend back in the French countryside.

it's about queer love. it's about summer romance. it's about losing a friend too quickly.

AUGUST

here, I also want to commemorate a gabrieminath wip I was working on in august, called no room in frame, if not just for this section:

OCTOBER

sacre coeur

nathalie nightmare fic. emilie is unwillingly turned into a deity who cannot die, so she causes a lot of trouble in nathalie's dreams.

DECEMBER

I've been working a bit on the sentiemilie au between the holiday rush. here are some wips:

#miraculous ladybug #my writing #my wips #ml fics #eminath

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cryoculus · 2 years ago

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— dream a little (dream of me) ⟢

you're a modern-day succubus just trying to get by, and your superior, mister zhongli is next on your hit-list. but every time you invade his dreams, he becomes someone else entirely…

★ FEATURING; zhongli x succubus!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 23.3k words

★ TAGS; modern au, office au, superior-subordinate relationship, angst, like SO MUCH angst, zhongli dreams abt his past life as rex lapis, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (minors dni), some depictions of violence (it was the archon war so), reader gets drunk at some point in the story and a co-worker exhibits unwanted interest, near-death experiences, mentions of pregnancy

★ NOTES; this was the longest thing i've ever written in one sitting TT wrote it for 3 days straight, and i'm honestly still proud of it even a year later! take note that this was loosely based off a manhwa i read in passing called sweet dream, so if the plot is a liiittle familiar to you, that's probably why!

★ HEADER ART CR; donaldakron on twt

★ SMUT TAGS; sex dreams, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, i-thought-i-was-gonna-lose-you-forever sex, riding, the perfect balance of sweet and dirty talk, creampie

“Miss? Are you alright?”

You blink out the spots in your eyes when you hear Ganyu call out to you in a worried tone. She’s standing awkwardly by the side of your cubicle when you finally snap out of it, and you receive the documents in her hands with a rushed apology.

“Sorry, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately,” you reason, signing whatever she needs to have signed before handing it back. “This is nothing, though. Anything else you need?”

She hesitates for a moment, as if gauging whether or not she should pry, before speaking her mind. “Um, if you’re having trouble falling asleep, I could recommend a shop that sells qingxin petal tea. It’s based in Feiyun Slope, and I always order my stress relieving herbs from there.”

Despite the weight settling across your eyelids, you manage to flash Ganyu a gentle smile, tearing a blank Post-It off the pad on your desk before giving it to her. “Could you write down the name of the store? I’ll make sure to check it out before I head home for the night.”

Ganyu visibly perks up. “O-Of course!”

When she slides the piece of paper back onto your desk, the secretary exchanges farewells with a curt nod – saying she has to pass over the files for Mister Zhongli’s perusal before anything else. If Ganyu notices the way your staged grin falters, she doesn’t say anything. But once you’re alone, you can only slink back into your chair with a contemplative look on your face.

You aren’t going to check out the store that Ganyu recommended like you initially promised. After all, your kind has never responded much to any sort of human medicine. Whatever’s bothering you is only going to be resolved if you stop being stubborn and fed on time – something you only care to do once a month at most.

Even after living your life as a succubus for almost twenty-four years, the idea of having to draw out your life force from… that still made you sick to your stomach. It’s bad enough that your strange constitution wouldn’t let you settle down and have normal relationships, but having to constantly find a source of nutrition is a pain in and of itself.

Your body has quite the standard for the men you’re supposed to suck some sexual energy out of, too. When you indiscriminately pick some rando you saw on the street, you might not effectively absorb the energy you harvested if you aren’t invested enough.

Case in point: unless you try to sleep with someone you remotely care about in their dreams, you’re going to keep craving for a proper fix.

Last month, you had to terrorize the poor barista who’s been serving you coffee at that new café across the street. You thought he wouldn’t think much of it, since you had the inkling the guy was hitting on you every time you ordered. But lo and behold, mister charming, suave barista is actually quite timid when it goes down to it. Your sessions usually took an hour at most to complete and you wouldn’t have to harvest energy again for at least another month. But that guy? You could barely ask him to strip without having to deal with him stumbling out of his dream-bed out of sheer embarrassment. Took you three hours in that dreamscape just to get the bare minimum out of him. And that just goes to show that the people you meet aren’t always what they seem to be – yourself included.

As entertaining as that session turned out though, you couldn’t really make substantial progress with mister barista, which eventually led to your premature hunger pangs. You started feeling a bit off-kilter last week, but you made the mistake of listing it off as nothing but a seasonal flu or something. Once your co-workers caught wind of how exhausted you are at work, you knew it was that time of the month again.

You can always just make up for the minimal energy gain of harvesting from a complete stranger by invading multiple strangers’ dreams, but you still have some shred of dignity. Well, you could just settle with the men in your department, but those slobs are the last ones you’d ever consider sleeping with. But then again, your team is working on a big, end-of-year project that you can’t afford to slack off on, so you need to find this month’s match before your body shuts down completely – even if that means seducing your awful desk neighbor in his sleep.

“Hard at work again, I see.”

You startle at the sound of a deep-seated voice coming from behind you, whisking your chair around to see your boss showing you a kind smile. It isn’t unusual for Zhongli to do some rounds in the office, but –

“Ganyu was looking for you, sir,” you blurt out, trying not to focus on how his neatly pressed tie compliments his eyes. “She had me sign some documents for the project you asked me to oversee, and it seems like she was on her way to your office.”

He hums. “I see. I just made a quick trip to the pantry, but I’ve yet to figure out how one operates the machine they installed in the break room. That’s why I just asked my assistant to purchase a drink from the coffee shop down the street… Are you alright? You’re looking quite pale.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been better,” you lie, trying to force out those memories of too-timid-for-his-own-good barista out of your head. “I’ll make sure to follow up on my assigned report at the end of the week, sir.”

Once again, your senses jolt to life when you feel a large, comforting palm settle on your aching shoulders, giving you a few pats. The sincerity in Zhongli’s eyes doesn’t fade, and you’re seriously wondering how he has it to be so encouraging all the time.

“Everyone deserves to rest when their bodies require it,” he says. “Don’t hesitate to file for sick leave if you’re unable to perform at your fullest because of health reasons. I didn’t overhaul the employee benefits clause in your contracts for nothing.”

Your face heats up at the thought of your boss being this considerate of your well-being. You’ve been working at Wangsheng Corporation for almost two years now, but employees have never been treated the way Zhongli treats them. It’s a miracle that he got transferred here last month – with his gentle voice and mindfulness of others. When he walked through the doors of your department that day, the last thing you expected was a compassionate superior, given that all those assholes in the corporate ladder only cared about money and none else. He was easily a breath of fresh air in the smog of Liyue Harbor, and you’re not about to complain.

“I best be on my way,” he tells you with a hint of remorse. “I’ll be attending a board meeting in thirty minutes. Once it’s been adjourned, you can come to me if you need anything.”

Come to him if you need anything…

For some reason, his words ring inside your head longer than they have to. But before you can even get your bearings straight, your mind is suddenly plagued with images of your boss in a more sensual setting.

You picture a Zhongli who’s free from the stifling confines of his suit – regardless of how dashing he looks in it, you always wondered what he would look like dressed down. You imagine him lying on his bed, golden eyes half-lidded as he beckons you closer; how his hot breath would make your skin tingle as he whispers all the lewd things he wishes to do with you –

“Of course, sir,” you tell him in real life, mustering up a smile that’s enough to hide your own embarrassment. “Thank you for taking the time to stop by.”

Zhongli raises a hand to wave at you before sauntering off to his office, leaving you alone with lecherous thoughts and a growling stomach. But the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you come to a guilty conclusion.

Guess I already found this month’s target.

The hardest part, you think, is falling asleep before feeding.

You’re still at odds with everything you had to do just to survive, so of course you’ll feel a bit queasy when you lay on your bed in preparation. Whether it’s that one cute barista or your attractive boss, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re nervous beyond belief. Navigating a person’s dreamscape is just as tricky as it sounds, and if you aren’t careful, the slightest mishap can lead to unwanted casualties. Worst case scenario: you might get trapped in the dream until the person you’re feeding off of wakes up.

But you can trust your worrisome nature to keep that from happening. The only instance you’d ever get trapped in someone else’s dream is if you lose touch with your own existence within it. That’s why you tend to limit the degree of pleasure you feel in the dreamscape during your feedings. Orgasms are one of the many things that make people, succubi included, lose their grip on reality, so you make sure not to experience such a thing, no matter how tempting it could be at times. And while there are no explicit rules stating that your kind isn’t allowed to indulge in the desires of the flesh – let’s face it, you’re basically a sex demon – you’ve always been too afraid to lose yourself in something that isn’t even real.

You heave a deep sigh as you pull the covers up to your chest. It feels a bit humid lately, so you opted to wear a loose nightgown – one flimsy enough to hopefully tempt Zhongli in his dreams. In spite of the impeccable decorum he exhibits at work, surely he’s still just a man under all those layers of courteousness, right? Humans tend to be more unhinged during your feeding sessions (sans mister timid barista). If the Zhongli that regularly checks up on you at work would exercise more self-restraint, maybe he won’t be as gentlemanly once you hijack his dreams.

The plan is set in stone. Fall asleep, make your way into Zhongli’s head, have sex with him, and make a run for it. You’ve outlined the same plan of action during your previous feedings, so this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Still, a small part of you still feels the bite of guilt for intruding on your boss’ peaceful night like this. In what little time he’s spent at Wangsheng Corporation, you can already call him the best superior you’ve ever had, and choosing him as your sacrificial lamb makes it seem as if you have no sense of indebtedness to him. But at the end of the day, you’re just a baser creature with needs to tend to or else you can’t move forward as a fully functioning member of society.

Surprisingly, you doze off much quicker than usual. This must be from the fatigue you accumulated over the past week. Well, that’s what you get for not feeding the moment you started to feel something was off. Either way, you’re en-route to your boss’ subconscious and you’re going to feel much better right after the trip.

The in-between that connects your dream to Zhongli’s looks just like everyone else’s – a dark, narrow corridor that opens up to a light at the end. You traverse the familiar path with bare feet, not so much in a rush despite how hungry you are. Whether it’s your hesitation to use your boss like this holding you back or something else entirely, you’re not very sure. But once you finally step into the light, you close your eyes and hold your breath.

When you come to, you find yourself inside a wide cavern – making your face scrunch up in confusion once your mind processes your surroundings. You expected to appear in a bedroom in his apartment, maybe. But as you glance around the barely illuminated cave, you realize that your timing is incredibly off since Zhongli must have been having a weird dream. It’s happened once before when the person you were supposed to feed on dreamt of living inside the latest superhero movie he saw. Maybe Zhongli watched a strange documentary before heading to bed. That totally sounds like something he’d do.

You decide to have a closer look, noticing that the only sources of light inside are the stone torches perched on the sides of the cavern. Your curiosity gets the better of you when you attempt to approach the flames. But that plan is immediately thwarted once you accidentally step on something solid underfoot. It breaks underneath your weight – the sound echoing deeper into the cave.

You can’t feel any sort of breeze inside, which cements your assumption that the corridor leads to a dead end. Something tells you that you’ll cross paths with another soul if you press forward, but your instincts, however flimsy they might be inside a dream, insist that you go back. To just forget about trying to feed today and just try again tomorrow. Maybe Zhongli wouldn’t be dreaming about weird tunnels by then. None of this is real, but the dread that’s slowly festering in the pit of your stomach is too apparent to ignore.

But it’s as if your body isn’t your own at the moment. Instead of heeding your own sense of danger, your feet carry you further into the darkness – making your imaginary heart pound with both anticipation and fear in equal measure.

Your hunch is proven right when you spot a lone figure at the end of the cavern – observing you from afar where he’s seated rather comfortably. He has one elbow perched on the armrest of his seat, the side of his face resting atop a closed fist. You’re unable to recognize who he is at first, but once you’ve crossed the threshold of the man’s vicinity, you feel a pang of surprise surge through your veins.

“Mister Zhongli...?”

No matter how closely you looked, he's the spitting image of your boss. However, it dawns on you half a second later that he is not the kind-hearted man you've been working with for the past month. This one sits atop a throne of jagged rock, golden antlers sprouting beneath his hood as eyes of a deeper shade glower on with disdain.

“I do not remember giving you permission to speak,” he says, voice reminding you of untamed tremors deep within the earth – resonating with every word. “You best know your place before I'm forced to remind you of it.”

Back in your bedroom, you awake with a start.

Your heart threatens to bust out of your own rib cage with how hard it pounds against it – as if it’s barely catching up to what you just witnessed and heard. You’ve never once pulled yourself out of a dream so quickly, but there’s just something about that version of Zhongli that sets off every code-red alarm inside your head. That isn’t someone you’re going to easily seduce with a see-through nightgown and a bat of your eyelashes. In fact, that man (was he even human?!) looked like he could kill you if he wanted.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, throwing the covers off yourself as you watch your hands tremble in your lap. “Who the hell was that…?”

You don’t have the slightest clue why you’re so shaken up. You’ve seen weirder dreamscapes in the past, but for some reason, when you stepped inside Zhongli’s, everything looked so life-like. As if you were actually transported to a real location in this world. If you actively tried to recall the details, you could’ve sworn you felt the gravel on your feet and caught the archaic scent of stone in the air. But what could a strange-looking Zhongli be doing inside such a place? You knew better than to assume there was a rhyme and reason behind a person’s dreams, but –

The sound of your ringtone going off nearly scares the living daylights out of you before you cast a frantic stare at the nightstand. There, your phone vibrates in time with the obnoxious noise, and you force yourself to get a grip. It’s over. You managed to escape whatever harrowing fate you could have ended up with had you stayed in Zhongli’s dream for even a second longer. There’s no use mulling over it now, is there?

Without checking who was insane enough to call you at this hour, you speak. “H-Hello?”

“Hello. I do have the right number, yes?”

It takes you a moment for your mind to register the voice at the end of the line – that smooth baritone that you’ll never get tired of hearing. Of course Zhongli’s going to ring you up out of nowhere after that.

If it were any other day, you would have swooned at the notion of your superior calling you so late, but this seems a bit too coincidental for comfort. The recurring joke that Zhongli can be a little bit of an airhead has been going around your department for a few weeks now, but sometimes you forget that he can still be as sharp as a whip. Could he have sensed something amiss from the dream you gave him? How did he even get your number?

“Sir,” you greet him as evenly as you can. “Is there something wrong?”

Zhongli is silent for a moment, as if deliberating the words. “Hmm… Nothing in particular. My apologies for disturbing you beyond work hours, but I feel like I had something to tell you but regrettably forgot.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, shifting on top of your bed as you swing your legs over the edge. “Well, if it’s about the report you assigned, I won’t be able to give you the numbers until the end of the week, sir.”

“You’re mistaken. My inquiry isn’t about work,” he tells you, chuckling in a way that makes you blush for some reason. “It’s something a bit personal…yet I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”

“...Is it important enough that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to discuss it?”

Alright, maybe you spoke a little out of line there. He’s your superior, yes, but your mind is still a bit frazzled from your earlier encounter in the dream. Zhongli certainly sounds like someone that just woke up, and while you like to entertain the idea that you’re the first person he thought about the moment his eyes opened, it’s not enough to dispel your unease.

“Forgive me. Calling you at this hour does seem out of turn –” It is out of turn. “– but I had quite the odd dream. I can’t remember what exactly took place anymore, but I do remember you being in it.”

Calm down. He doesn’t remember the details – not that he had a lot to remember anyways. You could have sworn you only lasted two minutes in his head before scampering back to your own body because that’s how terrified you were. What’s even there to recall about it?

“I see,” you play along. “Maybe you were dreaming about work like usual. You do seem a bit more dedicated to your job than most.”

Zhongli breathes out another laugh that makes your insides tingle. Why does he sound infinitely sexier fresh out of slumber? “You really think that?”

“Wouldn’t dream of anyone who does your job better than you do, sir.”

You wonder, at the last minute, if you said the right thing. But Zhongli lets out a satisfied hum from the other line, coupled with the sound of fabric rustling in the background. You try not to picture what he must look like right now – disheveled hair, unkempt sheets, drowsy eyes – but the image makes its way to your head regardless. The Zhongli you’re speaking to is already so different from the man you met in his dreams, and you can’t even see him right now.

“I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your precious time,” he murmurs, sounding more and more apologetic by the minute. “Thank you for answering my call, regardless of what little value our conversation tonight harbored. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, hopefully when I’m in a better state of mind.”

Better state of mind, he says. So Zhongli was affected by that dream, too…

But that’s something you can definitely think about later.

“Anytime, sir,” you reply. “Good night.”

“You’re looking worse and worse each day, you know that?”

This time, the person who bothers you at your cubicle is none other than your superior, Director Hu Tao. Though, even if she holds the highest position in the Wangsheng chain-of-command, she’s a bit too free-spirited to call a proper boss.

She watches you slave away behind your laptop with folded arms, not looking the least bit amused. Though she wasn’t really meant to know, the director is one of the few people – more like, the only person – who’s aware of what you are and what you do to survive. It’s probably because Hu Tao comes from a family with deeper connections to all things supernatural, and thankfully, she’s more understanding of your predicament than you’d otherwise expect.

In fact, she was kind enough to let you keep your job so long as you don’t let your…special needs affect your work. But for all of Hu Tao’s usual antics in the office, you know there’s no escaping her when she gets serious about something.

Especially when she’s nagging you about feeding intervals.

“When’s the last time, hm?” she asks, poking your cheek. “Aiya, you’ve lost the flab on your face. Come on, how am I supposed to pinch them now?”

“About a month ago,” you grumble as you revise an important email for the fifth time today. “Director, shouldn’t you be in your office? I heard from Ganyu that you’ve been passing your work onto Mister Zhongli.”

“Pah, the consultant can deal with all the trifling matters in my stead.” Hu Tao shrugs. “Besides, he’s the one who started advocating for better employee conditions in this dump, right? I’m just making sure my subordinates are healthy and happy in the workplace~”

Speaking of Zhongli, it’s been a while since you saw him around. The last time you heard his voice was the night he called you out of nowhere – the same night you hijacked his dreams. Now, it’s already the end of the week and you’re yet to meet with Zhongli despite the deadline he gave you days prior.

“I can hook you up with a bunch of guys I know,” Hu Tao suggests, unceremoniously swinging herself on top of your desk. “All you have to do is get inside their heads and do the magic, right? Hmm… If that’s the case, why don’t you just pick a random celebrity or something?”

“It doesn’t work that way, director,” you sigh. “If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be having this problem every month.”

“Ehh, you’re so choosy.” She pouts. “If sharing a dream with strangers doesn’t work, why don’t you just come after them in real life? Nothing beats the real thing, right?”

You’re mildly aware of how loudly Hu Tao started to mouth off about your…predicament, but fortunately it was the middle of lunch break, and none of your desk neighbors were present to overhear. Pushing your chair from beneath the desk, you breathe in deep as you consider the director’s words.

In hindsight, she was right. You know a bunch of succubi and incubi who copulate with humans nearly everyday – more because they’re weird sex addicts than them trying to last themselves to the next day. But you were drawing blanks as to how you’re going to explain to Hu Tao that the creatures she might have heard about have sex to enjoy it; you have sex to survive. The act itself still makes you squirm, so even if you have attempted to harvest energy in real life, you’d rather steer clear of resorting to that if you could still do the same thing in an unsuspecting man’s dreams.

But now, you aren’t even able to squeeze the tiniest ounce of sexual energy from your usual method. Hence, the problem.

“I’ll think about it,” you half-promise, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. “Oh, and if you see Mister Zhongli anywhere, could you tell him I’m done with my report? I was going to ask when he’d like to see it, but I haven’t seen him around lately.”

“Hm? Oh, right. I asked that guy to secure a deal with a Snezhnayan diplomat who’s visiting Liyue over the season,” Hu Tao tells you before hopping back to the floor. “Well, hope you get some sustenance soon, little devil. Wouldn’t want to find you all shrivelled up from sex deprivation one day.”

“Director, please…”

“Hahaha! Just teasing~”

Hu Tao hums a lively tune once she scampers away, and you’re left staring at the blinking cursor on your screen. The email you were drafting is supposed to be sent to the PR officer of the company you’re trying to scout with your report-slash-proposal attached as an extra file. But you can’t send it in without Zhongli’s green light. What’s worse is that it’s starting to get busy in the office at this time. The end of the year is the most hectic, and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to the hustle and bustle that comes with it. It would make sense why Zhongli is suddenly hard to catch.

And your feeding shortage just had to coincide with all of this.

You pull out a hand mirror from your bag, inspecting the way your face looks. Eyebags and chapped lips can easily be concealed with makeup but it’s more difficult to mask the way you’re abnormally losing weight. Even Hu Tao was able to notice it right away. If only eating human food actually contributed to your body mass…

“Tonight for sure,” you mutter – knowing damn well that your words are only worth half a promise.

In all honesty, you don’t put much thought into the exact time of your feedings. You just lay in bed, get into the minds of your targets, and hope both of you fell asleep at the same time. It’s no different on your second attempt at harvesting energy from Zhongli.

You don’t call him, don’t text him. You don’t even bother trying to get some inside information about his sleeping habits from Ganyu. So when you attempt to just wing it one more time, you’re a little surprised to find yourself transported into the dreamscape – a wave of relief washing over you when you realize you’re not inside a cave anymore.

You’re seated at the side of a river surrounded by ruins as far as the eye can see. The sound of flowing water fills your ears, a sound you almost find calming. Someone calls a name that doesn't belong to you, but your body responds to it either way when you turn your head around curiously.

Zhongli stands in front of you, carrying a basket of sunsettias. He doesn’t look as intimidating as the first time you saw him in his dreams, but he’s donned with the same hooded robe, and the same gold-tipped antlers. The cruelty imbued in his gaze in that cavern has long gone – replaced with quiet sincerity that’s reminiscent of the one he exudes in the office. You feel your shoulders relax at the sight of him, but…

Something doesn’t feel right.

He folds his legs at your side, and when he speaks, you hear nothing but a garbled, faraway noise. But despite not understanding a single word he says, you let out the occasional laugh, sometimes nodding along to Zhongli’s words before biting into one of the fruits he foraged. The wind whistles through the reeds in the overrun marsh, and all you can do is admire your companion’s autumn vesper eyes as you partake in a conversation only he understands.

But when you suddenly inch closer to him – caressing his face with a hand that isn’t your own – that’s when you finally realize what was amiss.

“Rex,” the woman whose body you hijacked murmurs fondly, the sleeves of her dress billowing in the breeze. “You should give yourself more credit. The faith of the people has always been well-founded.”

Zhongli gazes at you (at her) with wide eyes before the look melts into a fit of chuckles. His lips move in response to what the woman said and, still, you don’t catch any of it. But when your eyes drift to where his strong arms peeked from the holes of his robe, you’re surprised to see his hands shining like molten amber in the waning light. Golden veins can be seen jutting across his forearms, eventually connecting to the odd patterns depicted on his bicep. The longer you stare, the more you question why your boss made himself look so godly in his dreams. As humble as he is, he does look highly of himself after all.

Turns out, you’re not the only one who was ogling Zhongli in the most inopportune moment. It seems like the woman you’re possessing(?) also treated herself to some eye candy the same time you did, and now you can feel your face heat up with embarrassment when he catches you staring.

You expect him to laugh it off like usual. Your boss gets thrown compliments everyday since he started working at Wangsheng – compliments that never seem to do him enough justice. But he takes them all in stride before resuming the conversation like nothing happened. This Zhongli does none of that.

One of his strange, golden hands seizes your wrist tightly – your bashfulness suddenly morphing into confusion. Zhongli’s mouth twitches into something akin to a smile as he presses forward, forcing you to lean back to introduce as much space between you as possible. You can feel his breath fan against your face – cor lapis eyes glowing with desire – and you’re too stunned to retaliate. His other hand forces itself against the ground next to your hip, caging you in the heat of his embrace. Zhongli speaks again, and you’re starting to feel annoyed with the fact that you can’t make sense of what he’s even saying. But you can’t exactly relish in the feeling much because your body is reaching a fever pitch that’s making your head spin.

This is what you came here to do, isn’t it? Sure, you’re not really the person he’s seeing right now, but anything to get the deed done, right? All you had to do was suck out the sexual energy emanating from the god of a man that’s about to ravish you out in the open. Easy as pie.

His mouth latches onto yours in a way that’s almost familiar – which tells you that this isn’t the first time that Zhongli and this woman met each other so intimately. You respond in kind, letting your borrowed body take the reins as you feel him nudging apart the lapels of your dress, exposing supple breasts to the humid air. A full shudder runs across your skin when he growls against your lips, one arm curling around your waist before Zhongli possessively pulls you to his chest.

Mine.

You don’t hear his voice, but you feel the intent resonate all the way to your core as he practically tears off your clothes. Zhongli rests you atop the grass with little care for possible on-lookers, rolling his hips against yours as he decorates your neck with lovebites. Your fingers rake through his long, dark tresses – imprinting the image in your head for years to come. Your boss Zhongli always ties his hair with a jewel-encrusted band, so this version is definitely one for the books.

I should’ve done this sooner, you think to yourself – whimpering when you feel the ridge of his cock straining against your middle. Much sooner…

The rest of the details are lost in the muddled haze of your thoughts. You don’t remember if Zhongli even prepared you for what’s to come – all you know is the feel of his length prodding your slickened entrance. His grip on your body never falters even as the tip of his cock glides teasingly across your slit. You desperately move your hips closer, begging for the friction he’s holding over your head like a prize. But then, you meet his deep, amber gaze and for a moment, his eyes seem to soften in the midst of his lustful display.

When he kisses you again, your heart – this woman’s heart – comes alive. You can feel how much love she harbors, how she aches for him despite the fact that Zhongli’s hands roam around her body with the intent to leave no inch of skin untouched.

I love you. That’s the only thought that echoes in your mind when he finally takes you – here, by the riverbank where you were the only two people in the world. These emotions aren’t your own, but you feel a surge so intense that you gasp aloud when Zhongli presses himself into you deep enough to make your vision blur. It all feels so real that you don’t even notice it when you naturally absorb the energy you’re meant to take in the first place.

You’re not sure how it’s supposed to work in this situation, given that the body you’re using isn’t even yours. But you practically feel how Zhongli’s libido indirectly rejuvenates your spirits. Despite the fact that you’re being pounded in the middle of nowhere, you feel more refreshed – mind clearer as opposed to the jumbled mess it’s been over the past week. You never actually realize how your hunger can drive you into so much lethargy until you’re finally given the clarity of your sated instincts.

“I don’t care for the humans like you do.”

You startle when you finally hear Zhongli’s familiar voice – hoarse with need, but still the same one you’ve come to admire. His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts his hips relentlessly, with a desperation you can almost see on his face. The woman lets out a sigh before she caresses his face with a gentle hand, thumb gently sweeping across the cut of his cheekbone.

“You will,” she murmurs. “You’re their god, Rex. Their archon. You might not have any love for them now, but in time, you’ll understand.”

Her reply seems to irritate him. You watch as those golden eyes flash yellow with rage, but Zhongli is quick to manage the split-second shift in his emotions. Instead of lashing out, he buries his face into your neck, murmuring so softly, you almost didn’t catch the words.

“You’re the only one I’ll truly care for,” he says, fingers raking through your hair as he stills – filling you with the white hot rush of his release.

“I hope you know that will never change, Guizhong.”

There are two things that you end up mulling over when you finally get back to your own body. The first is the fact that Zhongli has way too hyperactive an imagination. About ninety-five percent of your feedings take place in your targets’ bedrooms, so having sex in the middle of a field is quite the new experience for you. The second is how your boss might actually have a girlfriend and you just…gleaned your monthly sustenance from him. Just like that.

Your latter realization took you the fuck out. The moment you woke up, you marched into your kitchen, popped open whatever cans of beer you had inside the refrigerator, and decided to contemplate your actions for a long time. You typically don’t think about whether or not the person you’re feeding on has a significant other because…you’re not exactly committing adultery if it only takes place in their dreams, right? It isn’t supposed to be a big deal unless they try to make a move on you in real life. But thinking about how you unknowingly trespassed on an ultra hidden fantasy that Zhongli must’ve been having about his girlfriend introduces a spectrum of emotions that you’re too tired to sort out. Embarrassment, regret, shame. Those are just some of the things you’re feeling right now, and hopefully a six-pack is going to be enough to drown your not-so sorrows.

…On the bright side, at least you don’t feel like shit anymore. As you finish your third can of beer tonight, you make the effort to take a look at yourself in the mirror. The color in your cheeks has returned, as well as the so-called flab that Hu Tao misses so much. Those dark circles beneath your eyes have gone too, and admittedly, you haven’t seen your skin glow so much since your last successful feeding two months prior.

But even if this is a cause for celebration – because finally, you won’t have to deal with those nasty hunger pangs again for at least another month – you can’t find it in you to be pleased with your results.

You’re still a bit…conflicted with what you saw in Zhongli’s dream. You assumed it was just some weird fictional fantasy of his, but you’ve been inside the dreams of other men often enough to know that your boss’ dreamscape is a lot different from the rest. You’re yet to put a finger on the rhyme and reason behind your logic, but the experience filled you with the kind of curiosity that’ll get you in trouble one of these days.

“No more prying into your boss’ private life,” you say, pointing at your reflection in the mirror with a frown. “You are not a homewrecker. Got that?”

Now that you’ve recovered from being “under the weather”, all that’s left is to get your work quota over with before the year ends. You’re practically brimming with ideas now that you’re finally in the right headspace to brainstorm about the project that Zhongli entrusted you with. As you pop open your fourth beer alongside your laptop, you’re quite horrified to see the mess of a proposal that you worked on during the onslaught of your physiological suffering. Dear gods, you’re never going to deprive yourself like that again. It’s a good thing you waited for Zhongli’s approval first or else, you might’ve made a fool out of yourself to your clients.

When you finally finish proofreading and making all the appropriate edits, you hop into the shower for a nice, hot bath. And when you crawl underneath the covers, the smooth glide of your sheets feels like heaven against your skin. But regardless of how comfortable you are in your own bed; how relaxed you feel for the first time in weeks, you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep as easily as you’d like.

Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is a man with molten gold irises and branches sprouting from his rich brown hair. You can even remember the smidge of red decorating the fine line of his lashes if you recalled the dream vividly enough. But the moment you start thinking about how he spread you apart and had his way with you –

I’m fucked, you realize as you wrench your eyes open – staring at the ceiling as if it’ll show you even an ounce of sympathy. I am so fucked.

Little did you know that ‘fucked’ is the understatement of the century.

“Ganyu, can I ask you something?”

The next day, you coincidentally find yourself sharing a table with Zhongli’s secretary during your lunch break. Ganyu looks up from the salad she’s been happily feasting on and flashes you a questioning look. “Of course. How can I help, miss?”

You pause for a while – deliberating whether it’s even worth looking into at the last minute – but you’ve already bothered Ganyu so…

“Do you know a woman named Guizhong?”

You’re purposely avoiding her gaze when you bring up the question, casually sticking your fork into the food you ordered at the office cafeteria. But when you notice how Ganyu fell silent for too long, you flick your gaze back to her in the most casual way you can manage. To your surprise, she’s staring at you like you just insulted your family.

“H-How did you hear of that name?”

Brows raised, you offer a nonchalant shrug. “Hmm… I was looking through some old company records and found that name listed in the contacts. I just thought you might know who she is.”

You’re not even sure Ganyu is even going to take the bait for that white lie. There is absolutely no one who knows Wangsheng’s documents better than she does. This woman used to work under the Liyue Qixing, so it’s only natural for her to be meticulous in every aspect of her duties. But instead of laying suspicion on you like you expected her to do, Ganyu seemingly heaves a relieved sigh.

“Well, yes. Miss Guizhong was one of the company’s contacts, but…” She bites her lip, fingers drumming nervously on her thigh. “Please refrain from mentioning that name to Mister Zhongli. As for the reason, it’s…quite complicated. I hope you understand why I can’t disclose any further, miss.”

…So Guizhong is a real person. A real person that Zhongli cares about deeply. But from the way Ganyu responded to your question, things might’ve gone awry between them at some point.

Why do you feel…relieved all of a sudden?

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you promise – this time, you mean it. “I was just a bit curious.”

The secretary nods. “Mister Zhongli should be coming back today as scheduled. I’ve already gone over your proposal like you asked, and I don’t see any flaws in your plans, miss. I’m certain he’ll approve of it.”

Way to shift the topic of conversation. You might’ve applauded her for how smoothly she made that transition, but Ganyu just indirectly reminded you to keep your head in place. There’s still work to do, and you shouldn’t spend what little time you have fretting about your boss’ not-girlfriend.

“Copy that,” you tell her, finishing the rest of your food with a newfound resolve.

When Zhongli finally arrives back at the office, you make sure to act like you usually do – timid yet just a touch daring when needed. You presented your proposal to Zhongli and the board of directors, since your boss insisted that they’re entitled to study its contents last minute. The idea of having an on-the-spot address makes you queasier than the moments leading up to your monthly feeding. But the entire time, the expectant stares of your other superiors didn’t faze you as much. All you can really focus on, aside from the important points you’ve outlined, are the vibrant gold of Zhongli’s eyes – peering from the nearest seat in the front in silent observation.

He looks so composed, like a slab of unmovable stone. You find it quite difficult to believe that your boss and the man who shows up in his dreams – the one with unruly hair and golden ichor horns – are the same person.

Once you’re finished speaking, the board begins to ask questions one by one – clarifying some things they wanted you to expound on. Thankfully, you’ve gone over your report multiple times before coming into the office this morning. Whatever inquiry they could throw at you, you justified with answers based on the sufficient data you’ve gathered over the past two weeks. You have to admit that being on the receiving end of their impressed stares is doing things to your ego, but what’s important is that your proposal has been pretty much approved. Nothing beats a sense of accomplishment, after all.

Zhongli is kind enough to escort you back to your cubicle, but you insist on dropping by the pantry first for a much-needed coffee break. You tell him that it’s alright if he doesn’t stick around if he has other matters to attend to, but it seems that your boss is going to take his time giving you his brunt of the praise.

“You did well. Far exceeded my expectations, even.” He smiles so radiantly that you can almost feel your chest twist with an unfamiliar feeling. “My apologies for suddenly disappearing all of a sudden. I was planning to help you work out the necessary details for this, but something else came up at the last minute. Though I know this all sounds like me making up petty reasons for my absence.”

You shake your head, taking a sip on your cup of instant coffee. “Not at all! Director Hu told me about your dealings with a Snezhnayan diplomat, so I figured that I needed to step up one way or another.”

Zhongli’s expression morphs into something unreadable before he reaches for one of the paper cups stashed away – filling it with cold water from the dispenser. “Is that what she’s told you all?” he sighs, taking a long gulp of his drink before setting the cup down on the table. “That child… I’m aware she has her way of running things in this company, but she needn’t lie about my whereabouts.”

…Lie? Wait, what exactly did Hu Tao –

“Since I forced you to spearhead such an important project alone, I might as well let you in on the truth,” he laughs softly, lips pressed into a small smile. “Would that make for sufficient compensation?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. “Um, you don’t have to if it’s a touchy subject, sir. I respect that we all have lives outside of work.”

“I insist,” Zhongli says, leaning against the wall without breaking eye contact. “It’s also a…means for me to ‘let out some steam’, as the director might’ve put it. But I won’t divulge anything you don’t wish to hear, of course.”

You take a moment to mull over his words. Is he saying that he wants to open up to you or something? Well…

“I don’t mind,” you reply, feeling the skin of your fingertips buzz underneath the heat of your cup. Anticipation – that’s what you’re feeling. “You can tell me anything, sir. And I swear upon my end-of-year bonus that I won’t share it to a single soul.”

Your boss flashes you another smile, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m grateful for your promise of confidentiality. You truly are a worthwhile companion.”

“...As for the real reason behind my absence, no I did not meet with a non-existent envoy from Snezhnaya. I made a three-day trip to Guili Plains.” Zhongli speaks each word carefully, as if not wanting you to miss a beat. “You and the rest of the department aren’t familiar with such a tradition that I make sure to uphold every year, since I was just newly transferred. Ganyu, however, has known me long enough to know that I pay the cemetery there a visit during this season if time permits it.”

The break room is quiet, save for the ever-present hum of the water dispenser. You don’t know why, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that tells you you’re not going to like what he’s going to say next.

“When I was still pursuing my Bachelor’s, I had this…friend,” he continues, eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if reminiscing about a better time in his life. “A friend that I held closer to my heart than anyone else. We were supposed to build a company that could change the world together – a pipe dream that youths often pour their souls into when they think they can do anything and everything they desire.

“But one day, that friend fell ill all of a sudden. We both thought it was just a mild sickness, nothing so severe that we should fret about it.” He sighs, and you can see how his mild-mannered demeanor makes way for the sorrow that roots itself on his face. You’ve never seen Zhongli look so…downcast before. It makes you want to reach out and pull him into an embrace, but you know better than to overstep your boundaries. “I’m sure you know where this leads. Turns out, the disease wasn’t just an ordinary coughing fit. She was diagnosed with lung cancer and died of it faster than I could even complete my final semester in college.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden – the shock on your face surfacing too suddenly for you to hide. “Oh, gods. You didn’t have to tell me this if it pains you to remember sir –”

“None of that,” Zhongli interjects, waving a hand in dismissal. “I chose to tell you this tale, didn’t I? Insisted, even. So you don’t need to worry about my grief, as this is something that I’ve long come to terms with.”

Holy shit. Now you feel twice as terrible for feeling relieved that things between him and Guizhong have gone south. It’s all because she was dead. Great, now the fates are probably going to turn you into a lizard in your next life just to call it quits or something. But you don’t really have much room for those self-deprecating thoughts after everything Zhongli just told you.

“Guili Plains is quite far from here,” you comment, choosing your words carefully. “Did she live there?

Zhongli hums. “Yes and no. The two of us lived together here in Liyue Harbor while we completed our studies, but she grew up in Guili. They’re no longer growing there today, but she used to tell me about how much she loved the glaze lilies that bloomed outside of her childhood home.”

…A ‘friend’ he used to live with. A ‘friend’ he held closer to his heart than anyone else. If there are awards for being the worst at masking hidden details, Zhongli is definitely raking everything in. Though you suppose now’s not the time to be nitpicking about your boss’ lack of subtlety.

“How long has it been?” you ask. “If…you don’t mind me asking.”

“I think we’re both past the point of minding,” he chuckles, despite everything, and you can hardly believe it. “But…it’s been six years since she passed.”

Six years, and he still dreams of her.

You nod slowly before finishing the rest of your coffee – now cold with how long you took to drink it.

“Thank you for sharing all this to me, sir. I–I…don’t know what to say,” you admit.

“Nor do I expect you to say anything at all,” he tells you. “Just having an ear to listen to my…troubles is worth more than all the mora in this company combined. It’s quite rare for me to find anyone willing to hear me out.”

You wonder if it’s because of Zhongli’s picture perfect image that no one would stop to think that he experiences the same things everyone does. He grieves. He loves. He even lays himself vulnerable like this. Hell, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine Zhongli being anything but the unflawed superior everyone knows and adores if he never spoke about this at all.

But he did. He trusted you enough to share a part of himself that he doesn’t just let anyone else know about. Whether it was just to repay your so-called stellar performance or something else, you’re grateful for his faith in you either way.

All of a sudden, you stride closer to Zhongli – the sound of you bumping against the side of the table at your urgency surprising him a bit. Before you can slip-up any further, you hold out your hand as you cast him a determined stare.

“I’ll be looking forward to working on this project with you.”

Zhongli is at a loss for words for a while, those deep amber eyes alternating between your face and your outstretched hand. You wonder if he thinks you’re doing some sort of alien gesture. But in the end, your worries are dispelled the moment he shakes it gingerly.

“I feel the exact same way,” Zhongli says – in a much brighter tone now that the storm has passed.

You just hope it will be a while before the clouds roll overhead once more.

The days pass by before you know it.

Along with the end of the year comes the beginning of your newest project. Zhongli was kind enough to lay all the groundwork in your stead, and all you had to do was secure some due partnerships with other companies residing in Yujing Terrace. With just a bit more convincing, you might even get the Liyue Qixing to become one of the official sponsors for the event, especially with someone like Ganyu by your side. Rumor has it that she’s one of Lady Ningguang’s favorite secretaries, until Zhongli whisked her away. You just prayed that she won’t take your boss’ past history of secretary-nabbing personally.

Your reputation has slowly picked up in your department as well. For the past two years, you were always careful about the connections you made because even if Hu Tao is privy to your unique constitution, you’ll be forced to switch locations if someone catches wind that you’re a succubus. You’re certain that the director could pull a few strings if something like that ever happened, but you never really liked relying on others too much – more so making them share your burdens.

At least, that’s how things were before Zhongli entrusted you with such an important task.

“There’s a drinking party somewhere at Chihu Rock – one of the newbies is treating,” Zhang, the desk neighbor you used to hate so much, informs you as he stuffs his laptop into his backpack. “The girls from accounting asked me to invite you, if you’re wondering.”

You cast him a surprised stare while you tidy up your own workspace, sparing a quiet laugh once you get ahold of yourself. “You guys aren’t bullying the new employees into footing the bill, are you?”

“Hey, if this is how they want to get in their seniors’ good graces, who am I to say no?” He shrugs, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “So, you coming or not?”

Now that you think about it, you don’t particularly have anything else to get done for this week. All the necessary preparations for the first leg of the event are in place, and your team members assured that they’ll give you a ring once something comes up.

“Sure thing,” you tell Zhang with a smile. “There better be finger food.”

Company drinking parties aren’t as bad as you thought. They’re not mixers in disguise, like all the manga you’ve illegally downloaded off Inazuman websites suggested. You got to know your close colleagues, and some other people in departments that rarely come into contact with yours. The alcohol isn’t half bad either, especially when the lively newcomer Zhang told you about is going to make good on his promise. You’re not so stuck-up that you’ll deny free food and drinks once they’re offered.

To your dismay, you still aren’t used to drinking with a lot of people as company. Normally, you just grab a few packs of beer from the supermarket before consuming them in your lonesome at home. You realize a little too late that if you’re drinking out, you really shouldn’t be chugging glass after glass as if you’re the only person enjoying the liquor out here.

After a few more pints, some of your co-workers have started to tap out – making you pout at them, red-faced and more pissy than usual. “What? You guys are going? And here I thought these drinking parties lasted until morning.”

Zhang shakes his head at your side, clinking his glass with yours before downing his drink. “Right? These guys have been hanging out with us for months, but they act like they can’t handle drinking on a work night.”

“Hmph, we all know why you’re insistent on staying behind tonight, Zhang,” one of the girls from accounting – Chen? Was that her name? – says, rolling her eyes as she hoists her handbag over her shoulder. “Just…take care of her, alright? Zhongli’s going to kick your ass if something happens.”

You’re still feeling a bit woozy from the beer, so you can only crane your head in confusion. What did she mean by take care of you? You can take care of yourself, thank you very –

“I will, I will,” Zhang chuckles, and suddenly, you feel a heavy arm drape itself across your shoulders – making you wrinkle your nose. “I never expected her to drink so much, but it’s a good thing that I’m here.”

“I doubt that,” Chen scoffs. “Oh, well. See you guys tomorrow!”

Once the others make their leave, that’s when you start mumbling under your breath “Ugh. The first time I actually come along to these kinds of things and the people who invited me don’t even last until the end,” you complain, pressing your face against the wooden table in front of you. “Where’s the kid that said he was going to pay for everything? It’s just the two of us left…”

Zhang rubs your back in a way that isn’t really soothing the way your skin burns from the alcohol, but you’re a bit too intoxicated to tell him off. “Aww, don’t worry. Some of my pals helped the poor guy home, but he asked the bar to put everything on his tab before he passed out. So if you still want to have a go, I’m down.”

You can feel something buzzing in your bag, but it’s probably just a text notification from your phone carrier. You’ve been receiving a lot of those lately. Maybe you should pay your bill soon. But your thoughts about phone bills are rudely interrupted by the feel of Zhang snaking an arm around your waist – pulling you upright as he steadies your shoulder with his free hand.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he says. “You’re going to feel like shit once you wake up from a drunk nap, you know.”

“Don’t care…” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you lose your grip on the handle of your glass. “‘M so sleepy. Can you get me a cab back home, Zhang…? Don’t think I can commute anymore.”

Zhang doesn’t respond right away, and you nearly doze off in that short bout of silence. But eventually, your desk neighbor helps you back to your feet and walks you out of the bar – exchanging farewells with the bartender on your way out.

The late evening breeze feels chilly against your legs, even through your stockings – yet that isn’t quite enough to make you snap out of your drowsiness. You end up leaning against Zhang for support as you wait for him to call a cab, all the while you screw your eyes shut – trying to stop your head from spinning.

“You know… There’s a hotel nearby that we can just crash in for the night.”

You’re too far between consciousness and slumber to fully process what he just said. All you can do is press the side of your face against his shoulder as you attempt not to fall asleep on the spot. But, apparently, Zhang takes your lack of a response for confirmation – wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the direction of the hotel. You don’t really think of it much, since the desire to sleep is the only thing weighing on your mind right now. You’re just glad someone’s patient enough to guide you as you stumble around the sidewalk.

Suddenly, though, Zhang’s strides come to a halt.

Your mind vaguely registers the sound of him speaking to someone else. Huh. You could’ve sworn the others have already left. But their conversation lasts a bit longer than you anticipated, and you force yourself to listen in.

“...Thank you for watching out for her all this time. I’ll take it from here.”

This voice…? Is that –

“U-Uh, sure, sir,” you can hear Zhang sputter beside you before you feel him shift your weight onto something – no, someone else. “I don’t really know where she lives so –”

You don’t really hear the rest of what Zhang has to say because you’re distracted by the person who just joined the fray. His clothes feel thick underneath your touch, like tailored fabric made from the most exquisite material, and they carry a familiar scent that reminds you of incense – one with a unique spice, just a touch archaic. You might’ve been too drunk to tell at the time, but if you had more strength than you did, you would’ve pushed Zhang away because his touch alone already didn’t feel right. With this person, though? You’d gladly lay in his arms for days.

The last memory you have that night is the sensation of being gently ushered into the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car. A soothing voice speaks to you constantly, as if trying to keep you awake. But the gentle lull of his words do little to aid that particular cause, and when he slides into the driver’s seat next to you, you’re already out like a light.

“Is anything the matter?”

You blink in non-plus, feeling like you’ve just woken up from a dream despite the fact that you’re sitting in a vast field of flowers. Wait a moment.

Glancing at your side, you see the Zhongli’s humanoid counterpart – those draconian eyes of his scanning your face to see if something was wrong. In his hands is a bundle of pale blue flowers, clutched tightly between his clawed fingers, and you feel your shoulders sag. The idea that you unknowingly stepped into his dreams again as Guizhong incites a rush of guilt that you have all the reason to feel right now.

You don’t even remember planning on feeding tonight. Sure, it’s been a while since the first time you collected energy from your boss, but you’re not particularly in need of a refill right now. How did you even end up here in the first place?

Thankfully, Guizhong does all the talking while you accustom yourself to your unplanned invasion. “I just never thought you’d humor my request. You were never that fond of the glaze lilies.”

“This is where I met you all those years ago,” he reminds you. “Why would I ever loathe the thing that brought us together, my love?”

Silence envelops the two of you for a sliver of a moment, and you catch the scent of the ephemeral flowers even in the filtered reality of Zhongli’s dream. Guizhong lets out a peal of gentle laughter as she picks one of the lilies that grew in abundance – examining the unassuming bloom rather fondly.

“These flowers take the memories of the land and transform them into an unforgettable fragrance,” she murmurs. “When the war is over, do you think they’ll still carry the scent of our union, Rex?”

…War? There’s a war?

But in the end, you never get to hear Zhongli’s answer nor the proper explanation behind what Guizhong just said. When you open your eyes, it’s to an unfamiliar room that makes you bolt upright – eyes frantically darting around the vicinity while you try to recall what happened before you fell asleep.

Drinking party. Zhang being all touchy feely. Being taken care of by someone else.

You try not to think about the awful taste that lingers in your mouth as you try to figure out whose house you’re currently crashing. This obviously isn’t yours because you can’t afford the imported rug that’s tucked underneath the queen-sized bed. However, when your gaze lands on the dark-wood nightstand, you see a couple of glaze lilies sitting in an expensive-looking vase.

The next thing your barely sober mind takes note of is the presence of another person on the bed right next to you. Anticipation coils in your gut as you turn around slowly, and when you see Zhongli sleeping soundly a respectable distance away, you can’t help the way your heart throbs at the sight. He looks a bit more like the man in his dreams like this – dark hair pooled messily across his pillows. And you also notice that he’s still in the dress shirt he often wears to work, further suggesting that he might’ve fallen asleep while watching over you. The idea is enough to make your face flush with shame.

You spot your bag placed on top of a table at the other side of the room, so you quietly slip out of his bed before retrieving your phone inside. How did Zhongli even know where you were? Was he aware that you were out drinking with your colleagues? A single glance at your lock screen is all the answer you need because there, you bear witness to several unanswered calls and text messages from your boss himself.

From where you stood, you cast the man in question a longing stare. He was kind enough to take care of you when you obviously couldn’t do that for yourself – even going as far as to let you sleep on the same bed as him. Zhongli is quite the busy man. Busy enough that he always turns down any and all invitations for drinks, yet he showed up outside the bar earlier tonight and just…took you back home with him? You don’t see any signs that he might’ve tried to take advantage of your inebriated state either – not that you believed that Zhongli is capable of such a thing. He was a proper gentleman through and through.

But…good intentions aside, you’re still at a loss for answers when you recall the dream you shared with him just now. This is the first time you found yourself inside a dreamscape without meaning to, and you’re unsure of whether or not this is a cause for alarm. What’s more is that his dreams always seem to take place in a world that’s wholly unfamiliar to you – a place where you take the form of his past lover without any real reason behind it.

Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you quickly type in a text message to Zhongli – thanking him for everything he’s done, along with an apology that you’ll probably repeat once you see him again in the office. Although you’re more conscious of his aberrant dreams than you imposing on his kindness.

You tell yourself to just leave whatever you saw, whatever you heard there in his mind. There’s no reason for you to keep nosing in. You already got your fill, right? And you never feed on the same person twice – never.

You just hope you can live by that personal rule of yours for as long as you can.

News flash: you cave to your pesky, curious tendencies not two days since the incident.

Zhongli makes it terribly easy for you, too. Every night, by eleven P.M., your boss is already sound asleep – providing you with ample time to travel in-between dreams before reaching the one that perpetually occurs inside his head.

The more you make these timely visits, the more you learn about the life that Zhongli – no, Rex Lapis – lives in this world. He’s someone that mortals call the God of Contracts. Someone who shows no mercy to anyone who dares break any sort of agreement that they willingly set in stone. He and Guizhong live in an era where the gods fight for the title of archon – a concept that you’re still having some trouble wrapping your head around. But in the most fundamental sense, Rex is someone equally respected and feared, and you can’t blame others for feeling that way.

When he speaks to people that aren’t Guizhong, he dons a stone-cold visage that still makes your blood run cold despite how many times you’ve seen it. It wasn’t a bluff when he said he didn’t care for the humans he and his lover watched over. All he wanted was to give Guizhong a place to live comfortably – and if that meant felling other gods just to attain that goal, he’ll gladly bloody his hands for it.

But Guizhong, the God of Dust, was never that fond of Rex’s violent ways of doing things.

She reminds him that humans are just as small and fragile as dust. They do not know when they’re bound to lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they live in fear. Because they live in fear, they try so hard to be much more than the small, fragile creatures that the gods have reduced them to. Guizhong is a god who’s more human than divine, and you suppose that’s something that Rex is yet to fully understand.

These are only some of the things you learned during your visits, and you can’t help but tune into every scenario that unfolds. Like a television series you can’t quite get enough of. However, you’re careful not to let the curious tale of Zhongli’s dreams hinder you in your waking life.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to remember any of the things that take place in his dreams. Whenever you run into him at work, Zhongli simply greets you with that trademark smile of his before discussing business as usual. No telltale signs of any sort of disturbance rooted from his slumber.

At the office, you notice that you’ve become closer beyond measure as well – both as colleagues and, you daresay, friends. Along with the team you’re heading for the project, your boss is one of your constant support systems during such a hectic time in your career.

Not only does he serve as something similar to your advisor, but he also keeps you company whenever you need to unwind.

During one of your late dinners, you share a glass of wine in his company as he shares some embarrassing work stories over the years. Zhongli is about three years your senior, so it makes sense for him to have more tales to tell. Nonetheless, you enjoy every minute of it, and in the back of your mind, you wonder when he’ll take you out like this again.

But when Zhongli drives you back to your apartment that night, he abruptly grabs hold of your wrist as you open the door to the passenger seat. You shoot him a startled look, but your boss’ alluring gaze doesn’t waver. You want to ask him what’s the matter, but before you can even get a single word out, he’s already pulling you close enough for a kiss.

You can’t process what was happening fast enough – simply sitting there in shock as you feel your superior’s mouth move against yours. When Zhongli doesn’t get so much as a reaction from you though, he pulls away with a troubled look on his face.

“I apologize. Really, I do,” Zhongli says. “Perhaps I’ve had too much –”

This time, your senses finally kickstart into motion as you throw your arms around his neck before pulling him in again. You return his kiss in earnest, even going as far as licking the swell of his bottom lip to show you that you’re more eager for his affections than he initially assumed. And when you feel his strong arms circle around your waist in the same, possessive way he held you in the first dream, you all but moan into his mouth.

You’re not sure how things led up to this point, exactly. It’s true that you and him have grown more familiar with each other since the project’s launch, but you never would’ve imagined doing this with Zhongli in real life. You thought you were content with having sampled the more sensual side of him in your dreams, but as it turns out, Hu Tao was right.

Nothing beats the real thing.

“What does this mean?” you whisper in-between gasps, laughing a bit as Zhongli chases after your lips. He lets out a disgruntled noise when you pull away, and you feel the urgency in his touch when his hand rests against your cheek.

“It means I fancy you very much,” he tells you bluntly. “Though I admit, this might be too sudden. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or if you don’t wish to do these kinds of things with me. I just hope my admission doesn’t change our dynamic at work.”

…Is he being for real? Did Zhongli just assume that you didn’t feel the same way?

“Everything happens all in due time,” you tell him with a smile, brushing away some of his bangs as you take the time to admire the man before you. “And who said I wasn’t at all interested, sir?”

Zhongli sighs, dipping his head closer to press a fleeting kiss on your forehead. The sensation sets your heart alight with glee, and you can’t help but lean closer to his touch.

“When it’s just the two of us, I’d prefer it if you called me by my first name,” he tells you as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Would that be alright?”

“Of course,” you breathe – placing your hand over the one he’s using to cup your face. “I’d love that.”

At that moment, you don’t think about how it’s been tough for you to find yourself a boyfriend over the last few years. How starting a relationship like this with Zhongli is going to give you more problems than you bargained for. All that matters is the comforting warmth of his touch as the two of you bask in each other’s company in the privacy of his car.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Times where you attempt to contact people like yourself are few and far in between. You want little to do in the lifestyles of other succubi and incubi, but it’s a different case with Xingqiu.

You met him by chance in the most awkward way possible. One time, you decided that a college boy who once interned at Wangsheng was going to be your target of the month. But on the night you tried to harvest energy from him, someone else was already occupying the dream – doing the things you were supposed to do before you could even arrive.

Long story short, you ended up doing a little snooping around with your targets first before going in for the kill. You wouldn’t want to run into Xingqiu in the middle of a feeding again, after all.

“It’s been a while,” he comments as you slide into the seat across from him. Xingqiu closes the book he was reading and props an elbow on the table, resting his head against the curve of his palm. “I’m guessing this is really important if you came to me for help.”

“It is,” you sigh.

Your companion nods along and smiles. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. Make sure to order something first because I can tell this one’s going to take us a while.”

Wanmin Restaurant, the place he chose for your quick meeting, serves the best Black-Back Perch Stew you’ve ever tasted in your life. This makes it a whole lot easier to settle down and explain your situation to Xingqiu to the most minute details. He quietly eats his own food as you tell him about the dreams you experience inside Zhongli’s head. How it always takes place in the same setting. How the sequence of events seem to have a linear pattern to them – which is quite rare to encounter in a human’s dreams. You’ve never once felt any sense of order whenever you hopped into the minds of your targets, but it’s as if you’re witnessing something straight out of a film reel when it comes to your boss-turned-lover.

You suspect that Xingqiu has been an incubus long before you’ve even been born. In spite of his appearance, you can tell he holds more wisdom about your kind than one would expect. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when he quietly hums at the end of your story – an answer already prepared in advance.

“Memories,” he says simply. “You’re not just witnessing that man’s dreams – you’re watching his memories.”

You frown. “But…that place is something that’s straight out of a fantasy novel. Gods and monsters? A world plunged into a war? How could Zhongli have memories of that?”

Xingqiu spares you a soft laugh. “How do creatures like us still exist in a world catered for humans and humans alone? There are many things that can’t be explained by pure logic. But I have a hunch that the owner of the memories you see is both your boyfriend and isn’t at the same time.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Do you believe in past lives?” he asks. “Reincarnation, exactly. Do you believe that all of us have already lived once before?”

“Are you saying that the stuff I’m seeing in his dreams are memories of a past life?” you clarify, face twisting with confusion. “Xingqiu, isn’t that a bit…”

“Crazy? It is,” he chuckles. “But like I said, this world leaves a lot of things unexplained. Some details are meant to sound crazy so you wouldn’t think they’re actually possible.”

You toy with what’s left of your dish, the appetite you’ve built up suddenly dissipating at the idea that Xingqiu just proposed to you. So even in a past life, Zhongli adored Guizhong to the point that he’d tear both heaven and earth asunder all in her name. You wonder if the Zhongli in this world, the one you’re currently dating, loved Guizhong to the same degree as well. He probably did, and you probably wouldn’t compare to someone like her.

“Is it possible for past lives to have some…parallels to the ones we live now?” Your voice is quiet, almost as if you fear for the answer.

The incubus considers the question for a moment. “Well, yes. The saying ‘history repeats itself’ isn’t exactly true because history doesn’t repeat itself – sometimes, it just rhymes. Things that occurred in the past can occur again in the present, but they won’t always entail the same meaning.”

You receive his words with a solemn nod, feeling your chest twist uncomfortably. Somehow, you don’t really like the sound of that.

“Thank you,” you tell Xingqiu when the two of you are done splitting the bill. “You seriously shed some light on a lot of things that were confusing me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he insists, tucking his book underneath his shoulder. For a moment, you think that this is where you part ways, but Xingqiu suddenly pauses – eyes narrowing as he leans closer to you. “When was the last time you fed?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden inquiry, but you manage an answer all the same. “Um, a while.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? You have a boyfriend that’s more than willing to help you, right?” He posits the question like he expected the answer to be yes, but when you shyly avert your gaze, Xingqiu’s smile falls almost immediately. “Oh, no. He doesn’t know what you are, does he?”

“It’s kind of hard to just go off on a tangent and say, ‘hey I’m actually a demon that receives my life force from dream sex’,” you point out, but know he’s right either way. “I…I do plan on telling him. Just not anytime soon. We’re kind of busy with a huge project at work, and I can’t really drop something like that out of nowhere.”

Xingqiu sighs, pinching his nose between his fingers. “But you’ve been spending a lot of time in his dreams anyways. Am I right? You seem to know an awful lot about his past life now that I think about it.”

…Of course Xingqiu’s going to be the one who catches you red-handed.

It’s really no secret that you still frequent Zhongli’s dreams, not to feed but to learn more about the life Rex lived alongside Guizhong. Since you started going out with your boss, the details became more descriptive with each visit. It’s as if you’re starting to assimilate yourself better in Guizhong’s body, and you could glean more insight about that strange, strange world with more certainty. Last night, she and Rex talked about how they plan on transferring the Guili Assembly to the harbor city, where they’ll be far from the evil gods that wish to kill them all.

“Well, whatever your circumstances are, you know what happens when you don’t feed,” Xingqiu reminds you almost grimly, not leaving any trace of his once cheerful façade. “Don’t downplay the effects of hunger. We’re already an endangered species as is.”

As you head home that day, you end up thinking about his warning more than you should. Everything Xingqiu said is in the right – you knew as much. You’ve had to suffer through the aftereffects only recently yourself, but...

You can take it. Just a bit more.

The next day, Zhongli comes over to your apartment to prepare dinner for you. He’s been excited all week to serve you his signature bamboo shoot soup, but Xingqiu’s words haunt you for the entirety of the day. You try your best not to make your distress obvious to your boyfriend, but you’re gravely mistaken if you thought Zhongli wasn’t going to catch on.

“Is anything on your mind?” he asks softly, pressing his lips to your neck. You’re seated comfortably in his lap as the two of you lounge on the sofa. But even if this has become one of your favorite places to relax with him, you just can’t bring yourself to do so now.

“Just…work,” you sigh as you rest your head across his chest.

The beat of his heart is steady like usual, reminding you that Zhongli is real and breathing right beside you. That he’s not just a product of your dreams, like your mind always leads you to believe.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” You can almost hear him pout. “Was dinner not to your liking, perhaps?”

“No, it’s not that,” you insist. “I’m just…really tired is all.”

That’s not exactly a lie. You’re starting to feel the effects of your own self-deprivation with each passing day. And even if you already learned your lesson last time, your conscience can’t take the idea of feeding on another person when you have a boyfriend. To further add to your list of problems, even if you wanted to harness energy from Zhongli, the setting of his dreams is too convoluted for you to pick up the right momentum.

Rex Lapis was working hard to defend the land that he and Guizhong dedicated their lives to protect. Even if you appeared as the woman he loved more than anything else in his dreams, you doubt you’ll be able to seduce him during such a crucial period in the war.

So now, you’re stuck in a stalemate between your own stubbornness and physiological needs. You’re not even going to be surprised anymore if your body just suddenly gives out on you one of these days.

“Can I propose something that could take your mind off such trifling affairs?”

The room falls silent once he utters the words, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Was he suggesting what you think he’s suggesting?

As far as intimacy goes, you haven’t really gone all the way with Zhongli. Apart from the occasional makeout sessions in the break room, in his office, and sometimes even his car, you never really sought for anything more than that. You’re well aware that Guizhong’s death is still fresh in his heart, and if he ever considered the possibility of sex, you’d want him to come to you in his own time.

This is quite the opportune moment for it, too. You’re barely keeping up appearances now that your stockpile of sexual energy started to dwindle. But now that Zhongli was coming onto you, you suppose it won’t hurt to kill two birds with one stone.

There’s something different in the air as he carries you to your bedroom – lips never straying too far from yours. Zhongli’s eyes are heavily lidded with want, a look you have a tough time imagining on him given the man’s saintlike patience. But as he carefully peels off your clothes, you can’t help but think how different he is from Rex. Where the God of Contracts is ferocious and impatient, Zhongli seems like he’s going to take all the time in the world to drown you in his love.

“That tickles,” you mewl as his fingers trail across your inner thigh and you feel him smirk against the skin of your throat.

“I know,” he says. “I quite enjoy seeing you squirm underneath my touch.”

“You’re mean…”

You can barely contain the gasp that resounds from your lips when you feel him tracing your slick entrance with the prod of his fingers. Zhongli murmurs the sweetest things against your lips, yet the things he’s doing between your thighs are anything but innocent. He keeps your knees apart, spreading you open for only him to see, and as he gazes at you from above, you clumsily tug off the tie that’s holding his beautiful hair in place.

Dark brown tresses cascade across the sides of his head. You stare up at the gorgeous man above you with a longing sigh.

When his long, thick digits sink into you, you silence your moans in the curve of his shoulder – teeth biting down at his flesh as Zhongli loosens you up. You feel his thumb occasionally catching on your clit, as if meaning to tease a momentary sensation of pleasure before denying you a few moments later. He’s cruel like that. Nonetheless, he watches you with quiet fascination as you practically grind yourself against his hand – feeling just how wet his fingers have gotten in the short time you were inside the room. The squelch of your cunt is a sound you would’ve been too embarrassed to hear, had you been with someone else. But with Zhongli, everything just seems so right.

“That’s it,” he goads you huskily, teeth grazing the side of your jaw. “Lose yourself for me, darling. Think of no one else but me.”

Darling? That’s new. But the new pet name only serves to push you over the edge – making your walls clench around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Zhongli claims your lips in another heated kiss, relentlessly plunging his digits into you despite the overstimulation. You beg him to stop, but the only sound that comes from your mouth is a broken moan of his name.

You’re nothing but a boneless pile on the bed when you finally come down from your high, breathing heavily as you attempt to reorient yourself to your surroundings. The sensation of Zhongli shifting above you registers a bit late in your mind, but your frayed nerves jolt back to life when you feel him rubbing the head of his cock across your glistening seam.

“Too much,” you whimper. “Zhongli, i-it’s too much…”

He leans down to press a loving kiss on your mouth, one of his hands rubbing your hip soothingly. “Shhh, I know you can take me. Just like you always have.”

…Wait, what?

You can’t even offer what he said another thought because Zhongli makes good on his words and slowly slips his length into you without much warning. A sob nearly tears its way out of your throat with how his thick cock stretches you to the brim, but your lover kisses away the tears before they even come.

“You mean so much to me,” he murmurs, twining his hands with yours. “More than you could ever know.”

That was a given. Having Zhongli as a boyfriend made you feel like you were important; you were loved. Though you haven’t been dating for all that long, he never once gave you a reason to doubt the sincerity of his feelings. So despite all the odd things you unknowingly witnessed in his dreams, you like to believe that he meant every word.

His hips slap against yours unabated, pumping his length hard and fast enough to make you croon his name over and over. And even if he managed to exhibit some degree of patience a while ago, it takes little time for Zhongli to move past his courtesy and bite down on the skin of your throat hard enough to bruise.

“Mine,” he growls. “I’ll never let you go, my love.”

You would’ve teased him for such a cheesy choice of words if you were under different circumstances. But the moment the new endearment falls from Zhongli’s lips, you go completely still underneath him.

“Stop. Zhongli, please stop.”

To his credit, he listens just as told – gazing at you with a puzzled look as he takes his length out. Zhongli is concerned for a moment, because you’re staring at him as if he’s killed a man right in front of you. When he reaches out a hand to touch your face, intent on asking what was wrong, you instinctively slap it away.

“I…” Your voice fails you. After all, how on earth can you just tell him that you wanted to stop because that was the very same thing that Rex calls Guizhong in his dreams. You can’t help but think that Zhongli used to call the Guizhong of this world the same thing, too.

Sometimes, real life could coincide with what happens in the dreamscape. Inside his mind, Rex Lapis sees Guizhong, not you. And you’re more than inclined to believe that it’s the same case here with Zhongli.

You’re not the one he sees – it’s the dead woman that he’s never stopped loving these past six years.

You know you’re being obtuse. Your boss isn’t the kind of person who lets his past grievances interfere with his present relationships. But the anxiety you’ve accumulated since your meeting with Xingqiu had boiled over with the worst timing possible.

Instead of talking it out, you roll over to your side of the bed – pulling the covers tight enough around your body so that he sees no inch of it. You know that what you’re doing is probably hurting Zhongli more than you think, but you shut out any hint of remorse that threatens to make you waver.

It doesn’t take long for him to settle on the spot right next to you. Zhongli doesn’t ask why you suddenly pushed him away, nor do you make an effort to explain.

“I’m sorry.”

His words ring sincerely enough, but it sounds like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. You don’t fault him for it. You’re still unsure why you even let yourself be consumed by your own doubts. Didn’t you just say you believed in Zhongli when he told you how much you mean to him?

You suppose this is where you fall short compared to Guizhong. The God of Dust put her faith in Rex Lapis despite his violent tendencies. She believes in him both as his follower and lover in equal measure. You, though? You’re already lucky enough to be dealing with a mellowed down version of the man in your dreams, but you still decide to take it for granted. Because…what? You’re insecure? You’re jealous of a woman who’s been dead for six years?

In the end, you decide that you’re too tired to think about it at the moment. Since you interrupted your own feeding session, your body wasn’t able to gain even an ounce of energy. You’re better off preserving what little you had left if you knew what was good for you.

(If Zhongli hears you choke on your own sobs later in the night, he says nothing of it in the morning.)

“Can you make a contract with me?”

Rex Lapis is cleaning the blood off his polearm when Guizhong’s voice cuts through the silence of the night. He stares at her hard, yet his gaze still carries a hint of fondness he’s reserved for her and her alone.

She purses her lips before continuing, “If I were to be infected by the miasma that’s tainting the guardian yakshas in the front lines, I want you to take my life.”

“No.” His answer is quick and precise, as if he’s already mulled it over several times before she even brought the matter to light. “If that happens, I’ll turn this world upside down just to find a cure that can save you.”

“Yet you can’t even do that for the children who devoted their lives to you?”

He stills, feeling the jab of his lover’s accusation hit harder than he expected. It’s not that he doesn’t care for the adepti – he simply knows that it’s in their nature to be more tenacious than the rest of their soldiers. Rex Lapis is certain that they can resist the effects of the miasma on their own merit. Guizhong, however, is just as delicate as the dust she holds dominion over. He’d rather watch the world burn first than let her die either by his hand or the corruption induced by that pesky miasma.

But still, he respects all his lover’s thoughts and wishes. She isn’t the brains of their operation for nothing. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it half as far in this war as he did now.

“Very well,” Rex Lapis agrees, albeit reluctantly. “I will honor this contract until the day I die.”

Guizhong’s eyes soften at his decision, and when she smiles, he feels his stone cold heart thawing at the radiance that only she can ever exude.

“I know you will.”

“You’re doing it again, huh?”

Hu Tao ambles by your cubicle with that knowing tone of hers, arms crossed in a way that suggests you’re about to receive another thorough scolding. But you’re really not in the mood to be told off by someone who hasn’t lived in your shoes before, so you opt to ignore her.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she huffs, fingers pinching your face like she often does but you keep your eyes straight on the screen of your laptop. “Aren’t you and the consultant seeing each other lately? Is he not good in bed or something?”

Thankfully, the director has the decency to lower her voice when she speaks, making you heave another sigh before glancing at her warily. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Hmm… Let me guess. You’re doing something you’re not supposed to, aren’t you?”

Hu Tao’s perceptiveness is absolutely beyond you. You’ve always known that she’s quicker on the uptake than most people you’ve met in life, but it’s almost scary how she’s seemingly aware of your actions. You’re the succubus and she’s the human, but sometimes you feel like Hu Tao has more power over you than you initially assumed.

You try not to think about the more recent additions to your vignettes of Zhongli’s past memories. You can tell that the stakes of the war were growing higher and higher each time you visited his dreams. Could that be the influence of the current events in his life?

Ever since the night you pushed him away, you and Zhongli haven’t been on speaking terms. Sure, the two of you still conversed about details that need fine-tuning for your project, but beyond that, it’s complete radio silence. His good morning and good night texts have stopped, and he’s never once dropped by your apartment in that time frame; nor has he invited you over to his own. His distant behavior tears you up more than you realize, but you tell yourself that he has all the right to avoid you if he’s upset about what you did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Hu Tao. “Director, forgive me for being blunt, but I’d like to focus on this report now.”

Your superior sighs. You assume she’s going to concede early for a change, but the moment you think Hu Tao is already on her way, you feel her lean closer to your ear, whispering something that sends a chill down your spine.

“Don’t dive too deep into matters that don’t concern you. Don’t try to change things that have already been set in stone,” she says calmly, her fingers digging slightly into your shoulders. “If you lose sight of what’s really important, you might lose yourself in the process, too.”

When she lets go of you, Hu Tao continues humming that same, lively song she always sings – leaving you to deal with the guilt that grips your heart like a vice.

About two weeks since Zhongli started giving you the silent treatment, you come to a sound conclusion.

He’s still thinking about Guizhong. Well, she was his first love – meaning, your boss isn’t exactly going to stop thinking of her anytime soon. But you thought about your conversation with Xingqiu several times over the last few days. You hypothesized that the reason why Zhongli was continuously dreaming about his memories of a past long gone is because his grief cuts even deeper than he let on.

Though you have no means of making sure, you’re almost too certain that the reason Zhongli still thinks of her even if you’re right in front of him is because her memory is too painful to let go. He clings to it subconsciously, and that desperation manifests itself in his dreams – back to a lifetime where Guizhong still lives.

The things that happened in the past are bound to happen in the present; that’s what Xingqiu told you the last time. So if the Guizhong in this world has already passed on, it’s safe to assume that the one in his dreams is bound to face the same fate as well.

But…you have the power to change that.

Even if it’s nothing but a memory now, what if you could alter the outcome? If Zhongli is left with memories of Guizhong that aren’t tained with sorrow, maybe he can finally move past it.

Maybe he can finally see you instead of her.

It’s a fool’s line of reasoning – you know that. This was going to be one of the most dangerous things you tried in anyone’s dreamscape. But you’re so catastrophically in love with Zhongli, that you’d give up anything just to ease his pain.

You’re well aware that your body is deteriorating at an exponential pace. Not only are you expending a lot of energy to tinker with Zhongli’s memories, but you don’t even bother with feeding anymore. You tell yourself that you can do that later, once you manage to save Guizhong from her timely demise.

Everything you can think of to keep her from dying, you made sure happened in the dream. You don’t let her walk out to the front lines to give orders like she usually does. You make sure to avoid all the guardian yakshas, who are already tainted with the corruption that craftier gods weaponized against Rex Lapis’ forces. And most of all, you don’t let her leave his sight longer than she needs to – because if there’s anyone you can rely on to keep Guizhong alive, it’s Zhongli himself.

Of course, you’re still doing splendidly in keeping your work life separate from everything else. Your project has officially come to a close, raking in more revenue for Wangsheng than anyone expected.

Today, you’re scheduled to give a speech addressing everyone’s efforts in the company’s conference room – something that you’re a bit reluctant to do because you know Zhongli is going to be there, too. The idea of him looking at you from the crowd with none of the adoration he used to give so freely is enough to make your stomach turn.

But still, you compose yourself. You’re no stranger to adversity, so seeing your boyfriend (can you even still call him that?) in a crowded room is the least of your problems.

At least, that’s what you thought.

When Director Hu Tao calls you up to the platform, you're raring to go – practicing with deep breaths as you repeat the gist of your speech inside your head. You made sure to cake your face with a heavier layer of makeup this time around because the last thing you need is for her to pull you to the side and scold you for still refusing to feed.

But the moment you get up from your seat, the world suddenly tilts to the side – your vision going black within seconds.

The last thing you remember is being whisked into a pair of strong arms. You want to curl your fingers in the fabric of his coat, to apologize a million times over, but the familiar scent of his clothes is enough to put you straight to sleep.

“Goodness, miss. You had us terrified back there.”

Ganyu is sitting by your bed in the infirmary when you regain consciousness, wiping the tears off her face with a dainty handkerchief. You mumble a half-hearted apology, but immediately seize up when you see Zhongli leaning against the wall in front of you.

“The nurse told us she suspected that you might have an eating disorder,” the secretary continues, rubbing your hand comfortingly. “It did seem like you were pushing yourself harder than usual during the last few weeks. You should really take care of yourself more.”

An eating disorder…? Well, if depriving yourself of your required sustenance can be translated into a human affliction, you suppose that was the most obvious counterpart. Still, you’re still feeling a bit too groggy for conversation, so instead of addressing Ganyu’s plight, you sink further into the mattress.

You can feel his gaze on your pitiful form – those eyes of endless gold. But you’re too much of a coward to face him when you’ve been reduced into such a state.

A little while later, you hear the door to the infirmary swing open. Is it odd that you can tell that the newcomer is Hu Tao based on the sound of her footsteps alone?

“Leave us,” she says sternly – addressing both Ganyu and Zhongli at the same time. “There’s something I need to discuss with her.”

You half-expect Zhongli to complain, or at least contest the director’s orders. But your heart sinks when he resigns himself to what he’s told, quietly ushering himself and his secretary out of the room.

Hu Tao waits for about two more minutes before speaking again.

“You better feed now or you’re going to die for real.”

“...But –”

“I can’t have you dying on my watch just because you’re being stubborn about it,” Hu Tao nearly snaps – eyes alight with rage. “Feed now. I don’t care who it is, just do it. I won’t let you out of this place until you’ve gotten better.”

To say that you’re terrified is putting it lightly. You’ve never seen Hu Tao get angry before, but the absolute urgency in her gaze – practically begging you to please just save yourself – makes you consider her request.

“Okay,” you say quietly, only surrendering because you can’t save Guizhong if you’re dead. “See you in a bit.”

‘A bit’ is a lie that you didn’t really mean to tell. When you entered the crossroads of the dreamscape, you didn’t bother picking targets anymore. You slipped into the dream of a man who’s probably in his thirties, intent on just getting him off, sucking out some energy for yourself before making your leave.

But no matter how many times you attempt to drive him to an orgasm, you don’t feel yourself getting any better. The energy that always emanates out of a man post-coitus is nowhere to be found.

You switch targets faster than you can even blink. This time, it’s a boy that’s probably fresh out of high school, and you feel a bit horrible for having to trespass like this. But instead of fretting about common decency in a goddamn dream , you make him come about two consecutive times before realizing that –

This isn’t working, you mutter to yourself. Why the hell isn’t it working?

You’ve always had a hard time harnessing energy from strangers, yes. However, those instances granted you at least a tiny ounce of energy that could stem the hunger for a while. Now, you’re getting absolutely nothing.

It seems that Hu Tao is already privy to your dilemma when you wake up in your own body.

“I’m going to put him to sleep,” she decides with a vexed sigh. “Make sure you get enough energy to last you for an entire year, got that? No meddling with anything else.”

“W-Wait,” you croak out, and damn, you feel even weaker than before. “What do you mean you’re going to put him to sleep? Are you talking about Zhongli?”

“Who else could I be talking about, little devil?” The director rolls her eyes. “Now, I’m going to ask you to pretend I’m not about to do something illegal and just rest. The moment you fall asleep, get into Zhongli’s head and feed. Okay?”

You don’t even get a chance to respond to Hu Tao’s words because you’re already nodding. Your bones feel like lead, limbs feel like they’ll fall off any minute. If you stay conscious any longer, your eyes might just dry out.

It doesn’t take five minutes for you to fall asleep again. And as you drift aimlessly in the depths of your subconscious, a part of you that’s still coherent anticipates that it might take a while before you find Zhongli’s dreamscape. You’re not sure how long ‘putting him to sleep’ is going to be, but surprisingly, your existence is abruptly transported to the familiar marshlands of Dihua.

You chalk it up to how often you’ve been hopping into Zhongli’s dreams, but you immediately notice that something isn’t right. The skies have turned into an ashen gray color – columns of smoke rising in several locations at once. When you gaze around, all you see are the fallen bodies of both soldiers and monsters alike.

Rex. You need to find Rex Lapis.

That’s your very first instinct once your consciousness fully pulls through, careful to step over the decaying corpses as you mutter a silent prayer for each one. But just when you thought you’re going to end up tripping on one of them, you watch in equal parts horror and confusion when you witness your leg pass through the carcass of a dead monster.

All it takes is a single glance down for you to know that you’re no longer inside Guizhong’s body. Instead, you drift around as an apparition of sorts – arms, legs, and torso appearing less saturated than usual. It’s like you’ve become a transparent cut-out, and you give yourself a minute to think about what the hell was going on. This has never happened in your previous feedings. You’ve always been able to maintain your form, despite the numerous instances you’ve hopped in between dreamscapes.

In the distance, however, you find the answer to all of your questions.

You spot them amidst the debris left behind by the battle. Rex Lapis kneels at the side of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life – cradling her frail body in his arms as golden tears flowed forth from his eyes. It’s the first time he’s surrendered the unmovable visage you’ve gotten so used to seeing in this dream. Gone is the unfeeling, uncaring God of Contracts who felled his own enemies like it was as easy as breathing. In his place is a man who only wanted to live with the person he adored the most.

Guizhong’s pale skin is overrun by dark lacerations that look like black veins rooted into the surface. Her own eyes glisten with tears as she reaches up to cradle Zhongli’s face. She says something that you don’t hear over the wind howling in your ears, but you don’t let yourself remain stagnant for a second longer.

You run straight to them with what little strength you can muster – intent on shaking Guizhong by the shoulders to scream, “No! This isn’t how things were supposed to be! You were supposed to live. I was supposed to save you!”

But none of these messages get across to either of the two. To them, you’re nothing but the breeze on their skin – violently whipping all around as the war only worsened. There aren’t any clear winners here, this is becoming clear to you. But as the God of Dust heaves her final breath, you hear Guizhong speak for the last time.

“Thank you… For honoring our contract,” she sighs, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth as she forces herself to smile. In her hand, she lifts up a stone dumbbell with a complicated structure – something you’ve never seen before despite all the time you spent in her body.

“This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you.” Guizhong hands it to him shakily, still careful despite being on death’s doorstep. “All my wisdom is contained inside. If you can unlock it –”

She never gets to finish the words. A loud clap of thunder booms across the marsh – deafening even when you don’t have the body in this dream to perceive the sensation. Zhongli makes a mistake of letting the noise distract him, because when he glances at Guizhong once more, the woman he loves has already crumbled in his arms.

Once the dust settles over the war-torn battlefield, Rex Lapis rises back to his feet. You can see the weight of his grief in the way his golden hands tremble at his sides. But just as quickly as his lover’s passing, he summons his polearm back in his hands – thrusting the hilt into the ground hard enough to break through the barren soil. The God of Contracts lets out a monstrous shout – terror rooting itself into your being. The sound is fearsome. Inescapable.

And with a single twist of his hand, the earth starts to shake beneath your feet.

Xingqiu arrives at Hu Tao’s quarters faster than she anticipated, blue eyes startled to see the two bodies resting on top of her bed. The director pays his reaction no mind, though. Instead, she fills him in on the situation.

“I had my guards carry these two up here,” she explains, pointing a finger interchangeably at you and Zhongli. “That guy, I drugged to put him to sleep so she can get inside his dreams for sustenance. But it’s been about three hours, and neither of them are waking up.”

“What? She still hasn’t fed?” The incubus asks incredulously. “It’s been almost a month since I last saw her. Back then, she was already starving. Don’t tell me she’s been holding out all this time.”

“You’d be surprised at the lengths that stubbornness can take a person,” Hu Tao chuckles, leaning back into her seat as she twists some of the rings on her fingers.

Xingqiu lets out a long, exasperated exhale as he sits by the bed – watching you and your so-called boyfriend doze soundly next to the other. But your deathly pale complexion doesn’t escape his notice. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed you were dead.

“While I am very concerned about my friend’s destructive behavior,” he begins, casting a sidelong glance at the Wangsheng director. “I’m more curious about why you’re helping them in the first place. It’s not like you to meddle in things that are none of your business to begin with. And yet…”

Hu Tao sighs. She’s been hanging around this demon boy from the Guhua clan for too long. He can already discern what’s normal and unusual for her behavior, and she isn’t really a fan of being perceived like that.

But unwittingly, his words got her thinking.

“Remember how you pulled me out of the in-between when I tried to reach out to Grandfather in the afterlife? I nearly died because of it,” she sighs, remembering her past experiences with meddling none-too-fondly. “I can’t just stand here and watch my subordinate slowly kill herself the same way when I know someone who can help.”

Xingqiu sighs again. “Director, I’m an incubus, not a miracle worker. Us crossing paths at the in-between was nothing but a coincidence… But then again, that’s the same way I met her back then, too.” He casts your ghastly form a wistful glance. If he’d known that divulging information about your lover’s past memories would lead to this, he never would’ve said a word.

“I need you to fetch both of them before they get trapped in their own dreams. I’ll fork over whatever amount you like,” Hu Tao proposes, her usually playful demeanor now replaced by something more grim. “Just – please. Save them.”

“...That’s a really tall order, you know?” The incubus shakes his head in disbelief. “The in-between is the last place I’d want to hang around, but this woman is my friend, too. You don’t have to cough up any –”

To both their surprise (and relief), Zhongli seizes up on the bed, sitting upright as he gasps for breath. Hu Tao uncharacteristically scrambles to hand him a glass of water, which he empties in the span of five seconds. But even if the sight of your boyfriend rousing himself from the dream is a good thing, Xingqiu notices how you’re yet to follow suit.

It seems that Zhongli followed his line of sight as well, and both him and Hu Tao can practically hear the sound of his heart plummeting straight to his stomach at the sight of you.

“No,” he murmurs, a shaky hand reaching up to caress your face. “Not again…”

Again?

“Xingqiu, change of plans,” Hu Tao calls out softly as she meets his eyes. She doesn’t even need to elaborate further for him to understand.

“What plan are you talking about?” Zhongli interrupts with a hard frown. “What did you do to her?”

“Oi, consultant. Don’t go accusing the people that are trying to help,” Hu Tao snarks, shooting him a dirty look. “We’re running out of time, so I’m going to give you the abridged version. Your girlfriend? She’s trapped in some place called the in-between. It’s the space that separates dreams from reality; the afterlife from the human realm.”

“But if she’s really trapped in your dream, she should’ve woken up at the same time you did,” Xingqiu adds. “That’s why I’m assuming she wandered too far and got herself stranded in your memories instead.”

“...My memories?”

The director nods. “Yup. And unless she finds the key in her own subconscious and escapes on her own or someone else enters the same dreamscape and helps her…”

“She’ll be trapped in there forever.”

Both director and incubus stare at the poor man expectantly, wondering how he’ll take the information they just dumped on him. Xingqiu wouldn’t be surprised to see him call them a bunch of lunatics before contacting the authorities for the unsightly method Hu Tao employed just to get him to sleep. But Zhongli is strangely composed, nodding once, twice before turning to his half-dead lover.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he says quietly. In turn, Xingqiu breathes out another sigh in relief as Hu Tao claps her hands together gleefully.

“That’s the spirit, consultant!” The director beams. “Now let’s save your girlfriend, yeah?”

You didn’t want any of this.

The sounds of a never-ending battle rages on outside – the impact of gods fighting to the death causing your temporary shelter to quake where you hide yourself away. The cave you took refuge in resembles the one you woke up in the first time you attempted to feed on Zhongli, but you don’t bother making comparisons. Not that it matters. You’re nothing but a ghost anyways – unable to go back from whence you came, and unable to go to the next place you’re supposed to be.

Still, you didn’t want to bear witness to Zhongli slaughtering hundreds in mere seconds. You’ve seen him fight before – he’s always fought valiantly in this war especially when Guizhong was by his side. But now that she’s gone, the God of Contracts is nothing but a husk of a man.

All that’s left is a bloodthirsty killing machine that intends to paint the land in the angry red of his grief.

Despite how hopeless your situation is, you can’t help but pray to whoever’s listening. You want them to remind Rex Lapis of the dream he once shared with Guizhong – to build a nation by the harbor, where no gods nor monsters can hope to harm the Guili Assembly. But as long as he continues his onslaught of carnage, that dream will never be realized.

Then, you think about the Zhongli that’s waiting for you back home.

Regret is the first emotion that occurs in your ephemeral form. You wish you could have apologized for that night – for assuming that he still isn’t over his dead ex-lover. For attempting to alter memories that aren’t truly his own for the sake of your own ego.

For never saying how much you loved him before disappearing for good.

If only you communicated with him normally like a proper girlfriend should. If only you didn’t assume the worst about him just because he once loved someone more than he loved you sometime ago.

You’ve heard of incidents where succubi and incubi aren’t able to wake up from their feedings. It’s either they’re trapped in an unstable human’s dream or trapped in their own because of internal instability. You don’t know exactly how to classify your situation, but you suppose that the reason why you can’t wake yourself up is because of Guizhong.

She became your vessel in these memories during your first successful feeding. And since then, you’ve used her body to traverse the strange land that she and Rex Lapis supposedly hold dominion over. But regardless of how careful you were with Guizhong, she still died. There was nothing you could do to change something that was already set in stone, and instead you lost your way back to where you truly belonged.

For someone who claims to hate her own heritage as a succubus, this just goes to show how much you actually relied on your powers.

Gods. This fucking sucks.

You can only imagine how devastated Zhongli would feel to find your lifeless body in the real world – clutching you to his chest the same way Rex did with Guizhong. Two girlfriends dying on him in the span of six years. You wonder if he’ll ever love again.

…If Zhongli was in your place, he would have spoken to you the moment he felt uneasy about your past. He would’ve asked for some reassurance so he wouldn’t have to worry like this.

He never would’ve tried to change you.

He would’ve told you that he trusted you.

You miss him so much that it tears you from the inside out. If only you can see him again – see that beautiful smile again – you’d hold him tight and tell him a million times.

You’d tell him you were a coward. That you were too afraid of splitting his affections with a woman who doesn’t even exist anymore.

But…it’s too late for all that now, isn’t it?

Helplessly, you pull up your barely-there knees to your chest, burying your face in between as you make yourself smaller. You want to cry yourself hoarse, but the tears never come. All you can do is sit alone in the darkness, where you can only dream of someone finding you in the middle of the chaos.

You’re too caught up in your own sorrow to discern the beam of light that splinters through the darkness. You don’t notice the man that steps into the in-between with you; don’t notice as he approaches. It’s only when you feel the familiar sensation of a large, comforting hand on your shoulder that you snap out of your misery.

“There you are,” Zhongli – your Zhongli – breathes out.

When you finally wake up, you feel like someone brought you back from the dead.

You can barely breathe without it feeling like the oxygen is ripping your lungs to shreds. But before you can asphyxiate yourself, a familiar figure hands you a glass of water, along with a handful of dried leaves. You glance up at Hu Tao in confusion as she stares at you nonchalantly.

“You were in the in-between for gods-know how long,” the director reminds you. “Go chew on those to recover.”

“...I was what?”

“You were as good as dead.” The sound of Xingqiu’s familiar voice makes you jump, but the incubus simply turns the page on his novel from where he’s seated by the foot of the unfamiliar bed. “I’ve heard of succubi going a few weeks without food, but two months? Do you have a death wish?”

Your head is spinning from all the whiplash, and you actually take Hu Tao’s advice and drink some water before chewing on her magic leaves. But when you notice that there’s someone else occupying the mattress with you, your heart soars with relief.

“Hello,” Zhongli greets you.

“Hi,” you greet him back.

In your peripheral, you can see Hu Tao mouthing something you can’t decipher to Xingqiu – a message that your incubus friend is quick to pick up on before the two of them step out of the room to give you more privacy. Now that you noticed it, you were probably taken up to the director’s quarters at some point during your coma. Either way, once the door clicks shut, it’s just you and Zhongli – the first time you’ve been alone with him since that night in your apartment.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” you say nervously, unsure where you should even begin. But you suppose an apology is a good starting point. “I’m…sorry. For everything.”

Zhongli sighs, sitting up right to pull you in a tight hug. The abruptness of the gesture makes you drop the leaves on the bed, stunning you into complete silence.

“I thought I lost you,” he nearly chokes – a sound that you never would’ve imagined Zhongli making. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

The pure anguish in his voice makes your heart clench, and now that you have a body that actually lets you feel things, you’re finally given the familiar sensation of eyes stinging with tears. You return Zhongli’s embrace with equal fervor – letting yourself sob into the hollow of his neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you babble, chest seizing with tremors as you curl your fingers into his hair. “I never should’ve hidden the truth about me. I never should’ve meddled with the past. And… I never should’ve questioned the way you feel about me.”

You can feel Zhongli’s erratic pulse against your chest, and you find the fact that it’s possible for his heart to race a relief to know. When he pulls away, his cheeks are wet with tears – not the golden liquid that poured from Rex Lapis’ eyes, but the very same tears that you’re crying right this second.

This is your Zhongli. This is the man you fell in love with.

You wonder why you even tried to change a past he experienced in a different life – knowing full well just how different he is from the God of Contracts.

“I love you,” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his. “Zhongli, I love you.”

“And as I do you,” he breathes. “The director and the Guhua boy have already informed me of your…special circumstances, but I’d like to hear the tale of your escapades in my dreams some other time.”

You pause. “So you don’t want me to explain why I did everything I did?”

“Of course I do.” Zhongli shakes his head. “But…I was also told that you’ve been depriving yourself of sustenance for nearly two months now. As your lover, I’m inclined to help you out of your predicaments, yes?”

Oh. Oh.

“B-But we’re in the director’s room…” you tell him bashfully, feeling a surge of heat creep up your neck. “And I owe you a proper explanation for –”

He promptly shuts you up with a kiss. The nerve of this guy!

“Darling, will you allow me to make love to you?” he murmurs the words against your lips, already pulling you to his lap. “Properly this time.”

You know you should snap him out of it and insist that you’re fine. That you’ll last another day without sex if that means you can sufficiently explain yourself because Zhongli deserves as much. But you remember, at that moment, that you’re particularly weak when he starts to trail featherlight kisses along your neck. Zhongli knows this as well as you do, and you can feel him smile triumphantly when you let out a sigh in defeat.

He doesn’t bother removing your clothes; practically tearing a hole into your pantyhose at his impatience. You balk at him for doing such a thing, but Zhongli promises to buy you another set once everything is settled.

“Do you find it strange that I’m terribly aroused despite everything that happened?” he asks you, hauling his cock out of his unzipped trousers as he gives it a few pumps.

“Not at all,” you respond in kind. “I’ve always thought you were hornier than you seemed. It’s always the prim and proper ones, you know?”

You bite your lip as you grind your clothed cunt against his hardening length, feeling your desire pool in between your thighs at the mere thought of him inside you. Zhongli bites down his laughter, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he spreads you open on his lap.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Nudging your underwear aside, you sink yourself onto his thick length with a blissful sigh – feeling his cockhead hitting all the right spots. Zhongli plants his palms firmly on your hips, barely able to contain the hunger in his eyes as he watches you bounce on top of his dick. Your skirt hikes further up your thighs with each downward plunge, and your lover cares to swallow your moans with an open-mouthed kiss.

You all but muffle a scream into his lips when you feel Zhongli thrusting his hips up to meet the cadence of your movements. Tears catch in the lines of your lashes from how good it feels, and you nearly come right then and there when he pulls away to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you to the brim,” he promises. “My seed will drip down your thighs from here on out so you’ll never forget where you belong.”

“By your side?” you whisper, purposely clenching your walls around his length to elicit a reaction.

Zhongli grunts in approval, much to your amusement. “By my side.”

He switches things up at the last minute, flipping you over so that you’re lying down on the bed. You open your mouth to protest, but Zhongli is already pressing your knees against your thighs – plunging his cock into the velvet heat of your cunt as he hits it deeper than before.

“I’d gladly fuck you everyday if that means you’ll never starve again,” your lover tells you with a growl, golden irises boring deep into your own. “Would you like that? Would you like me to sate your needs?”

“Yes,” you mewl as your fingers rake across his back. “Yes, yes yes! I only want you, Zhongli. Please –”

Your climax blindsides you out of nowhere, cunt squeezing around his cock impossibly tight. You screw your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as your body shudders and trembles from the force of it. Zhongli, however, is intent on taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t relent – just continues pounding you into the bed as he chases his own high.

“You’re the only one I love,” he tells you all of a sudden, momentarily pulling you out of your lustful haze. “You might not be the first, but you’ll certainly be the last.”

“Stop saying cheesy things while you’re fucking my brains out,” you moan. “You’re going to make me cry…”

“Heh, that’s the point.”

As promised, Zhongli finishes inside you with a shuddering sigh – and you feel the surge of his hot seed painting your insides. You’ve never felt so satisfied after having real sex with a real human, but when you’re actually in love with the person you’re sleeping with, you suppose there’s lots of room for exceptions.

“So why were you chasing ghosts that don’t even haunt me anymore?”

You finish the rest of the water that Hu Tao offered earlier when Zhongli asks you the million-dollar question. Your heart twists with both guilt and apprehension, but you know that this is the best time to lay the truth on the table.

“I was…bothered when you called me by the thing that Rex Lapis called Guizhong the goddess in your dreams,” you admit. “I thought you were thinking about Guizhong your ex while you were with me.”

Zhongli nods as he fixes his own clothes, an unreadable look settling on his face. “Rex Lapis…is the identity I had in a past life, isn’t it? And Guizhong was his lover.”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t explain why you tried to alter my memories, though,” he points out.

“Well, I thought if I could lessen the pain of your memories of Guizhong, you’d stop thinking about her and start thinking about me.” Gods, you sound like such a fucking brat. “That – That was really childish of me. I’m sorry. I even got the director and Xingqiu involved because of my own impulsiveness…”

“If you look at it that way then, yes. It is very childish of you. But I think that just goes to show how deeply you feel about me,” Zhongli suggests with a handsome smile, reaching out to hold your hand in his. “You want me to look at you, and only you?”

“Of course I do,” you mumble. “You want me to do the same for you, right? I’m just trying to make things even…”

Your lover lets out another laugh, raising your hand to his lips as he places a soft kiss on your skin. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Zhongli’s show of affection.

“Guizhong…is a person who’s near and dear to me even now,” he says, going off a tangent as he rubs comforting circles into your wrist. “But do you know the last thing she told me before she passed?”

You shake your head. “What?”

“That I shouldn’t chain myself to the past, no matter how painful it is to carry on,” Zhongli continues. “My life here is much simpler than the life Rex Lapis lived. I have no idea what you saw in my – rather, his memories to make you assume that the same applies for me. But I assure you that I’m not a man who’ll punish himself by constantly mulling over what-ifs and could-have-beens.

“All that matters is the present, and what I choose to do now, while you’re still by my side.”

…Damn it. You’re feeling the waterworks again.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you whisper, squeezing his hand just to make sure he was real.

“That, I’m afraid I can’t answer,” he chuckles. “But, on the topic of your immeasurable love, the Guhua boy imparted another interesting piece of information before lending me his powers to save you.”

“...Wait, I’ve been wondering how you got inside the in-between,” you tell him. “So it was Xingqiu? How the hell did he do that?”

“Darling, please refrain from asking questions I don’t have answers to.”

“Fine, fine. What did he say that was so interesting then?”

Zhongli laughs, and something about the shift in his tone makes you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Director Hu said you tried to harvest energy from other men while you were on the brink of death but it didn’t work. Xingqiu informed us that when your kind starts to feel strongly about a certain human, you won’t be able to harness energy anywhere else apart from that person.”

“...Why do I feel like you’re just gloating now?”

“That’s because I am.”

The sound of the door sliding abruptly catches your attention. Hu Tao emerges from the entrance as she claps her hands loudly. “Alright, that’s enough lovey-dovey chit-chat. I’m going to have the maids launder my sheets first before I sleep in them tonight!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment. “Director Hu Tao, I –”

“Aiya! No apologies. It’s all good,” she insists. “But hey, consultaaant~ Now that I let you and your girlfriend have reunion sex in my quarters, you’re not going to press any charges for assault, will you?”

“Wait, what charges?” Your gaze darts between the two of them curiously.

Zhongli drags a palm over his face, as if having just realized something terrible. “In order to help you get into my dreams, the director laced my tea with a potent drug. I was unconscious for quite some time. But I won’t press any charges, since I have little patience for the tedium of the Liyue Police Station.”

“Aww, you’re the best!” Hu Tao gushes before turning to you. “By the way, Xingqiu already went ahead, but he asked me to give you this.”

You blink as Hu Tao hands you a sleek black business card with the words “Dr. Paimon” printed with embossed lettering. Zhongli peers over your shoulder, examining the card with the same degree of curiosity.

“He didn’t really elaborate, but rumor has it, that person can turn you into a normal human,” the director explains, smiling with intent. “I figured that since you’re probably gonna want to spend the rest of your life with the old man, you’d want to give up your immortality.”

Immortality… A staple that comes with being a succubus. It’s one of the most fundamental reasons why your kind fed on sexual energy in the first place, yet you never stopped to think of your future if you stayed immortal, while Zhongli continues to age with the passage of time.

You won’t be able to start a family with him; have his children; grow old with him. Because that’s the fate that your kind has long been cursed with since they first walked the earth. But now, you’re given a way out – even if it sounds too good to be true.

You’re afraid to look at Zhongli. You feel like you should accept the offer, but everything that transpired today is just so overwhelming that you’re not sure if you can make the right choice…

But as always, he’s here to support you.

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he reminds. “We still have work tomorrow, so I suggest we head home and rest first. I’m sure that can wait.”

…Being thrust back into the nightmare that is the Liyuen corporate ladder after nearly dying in the in-between. Way to maintain a sense of normalcy, Zhongli.

Well, ‘normal’ is the best thing that the universe can give to you right now. Too bad you’re not selfless enough to deny the one thing you’ve been craving after all this time.

“Miss? Here’s the tea you asked for.”

Ganyu’s voice flits through your ears like a calming breeze. She places your drink on your desk – just behind a plaque that reads Wangsheng Corporation - Consultant. The scent of freshly brewed qingxin petals wafts to your nose and you feel every nerve ending in your body relax at the more aroma.

“Thank you,” you tell her kindly. “You’re right. This tea really does work miracles.”

Your secretary hides a giggle behind her hand. “Both Lady Ningguang and Mister Zhongli became fond of it when I started working for them. I figured it would be the same with you.”

The golden band on your finger seems to glint in the sunlight streaming into your office as you take a few sips. You used to think that tea was nothing but leaf water, but if you have someone like Zhongli for a husband, you’re bound to start appreciating the finer things in life – Ganyu’s herbal remedy included.

“Oh, that reminds me,” she perks up. “Is the director coming back soon? I heard that four months is already a good time to check for the gender.”

You’re a bit surprised by her words, but Ganyu has always exhibited her excitement for the budding life in your womb the moment you made the announcement a few months back.

“Zhongli’s secretary told me he should be home by the end of the week,” you tell her kindly, free hand instinctively going to the slight swell of your belly. “Once we figure out whether it’s a boy or a girl, I promise you’re the first person we’ll inform.”

She gasps. “You really mean that, miss?”

“Why not? You’re the godmother after all~”

Once Ganyu recovers from the initial shock from being assigned as your child’s godmother, you’re left to your lonesome once more.

It’s been six months since Hu Tao stepped down as the director for Wangsheng Corporation – passing the title onto Zhongli – and six months since you’ve held office as the company’s new consultant. At times, you still find it strange, how you’re the one giving advice with regards to your husband’s dealings with other businesses. But you remind yourself that everything happens all in due time.

Your old life as a succubus is way behind you now, but there are moments where you still think of what happened to Rex Lapis after Guizhong’s death. Did he get killed by the other gods? Did he lead the Guili Assembly to the harbor? What happened to the stone dumbbell Guizhong gave to him? You’ll never know now that you’ve lost the ability to travel through dreams.

But in the back of your head, you hoped he was able to find some sort of deliverance from the pain induced by his lover’s passing.

In the midst of your contemplation, your phone buzzes with a text – one that you’re quick to open.

Zhongli [10:54]: I’m boarding the plane at Fontaine National Airport right now. Should be back by tonight :)

Huh. That was earlier than expected.

Me [10:54] We’ll be waiting with a nice bottle of osmanthus ^__^

Zhongli [10:55]: Darling, please. Drinking is bad for the baby

Me [10:55]: One glass won’t cause genetic disorders, Zhongli.

Zhongli [10:56]: Very well… I’ll still make sure to watch your consumption though.

Me [10:56]: Fine by me <3 Take care on the way back. I love you.

Zhongli [11:15]: Sorry, just got past a checkpoint. I love you, too.

You put away your phone with a sigh, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. For good measure, you pinch your cheek the same way Hu Tao used to do when she was still in charge – just to make sure you’re not dreaming.

But the baby is intent on helping you out with that when you feel it kick a bit too hard against your navel.

“Okay, point taken,” you mumble.

A year ago, you wouldn’t have pictured yourself carrying a human child – much more picturing yourself as a human. But you learned that time is kind to those who wait. It’s just as Zhongli said: regardless of everything that happened in the past, what’s important is what you do now in the present.

And to you, that’s all that matters.

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

#genshin impact #genshin #zhongli smut #genshin smut #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #cryoculus

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