#Rex Lapis x reader

[endursent]

- God Shattering Star

【 content; morax | rex lapis x reader , slow burn , mutual pining , multi-chapter , archon war period , afab!reader 】

【 note sorry this is also late i had to redo this chapter like 3 times cause i wasn't happy with it, i should stop re-reading a song of ice and fire while writing this 'cause i keep comparing my dialogue skills with fucking george rr martin and feel sad ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡ | read on ao3 】

【 word count; 6.016 | previous chapter - next chapter | masterlist 】

- Chapter 8 - Consumption

You barely recognise life anymore—or anything for that matter. You feel sick, sticky and heavy, as if your body is full of liquids in every crevice. The world around you feels lighter than you yourself do, like you’re sinking below it and perpetually struggling to reach upwards to grasp at the people staring down at you from around the cot. 

  Ming Hui sets her hand on your stomach, and a pain so consuming you thrash and scream overrides any thought or consciousness. Hands hold you down to prevent you from hurting yourself or anyone else as the smaller girl tears (at least that’s what it feels like to you) blackened liquids and blood from the lacerations on your belly. 

  You throw up every day, most of the time several times a day, nights are filled with shivers and huddling under blankets when you try to close your eyes to sleep—and wake in the middle of the night, soaked with sweat and fever. 

  One night, you had a terrible dream—you’ve been having many bad dreams, terrible, suffocating dreams. Nightmares. You woke up to two pairs of hands shaking your shoulders, clapping your cheeks lightly in hopes of waking you before you hurt yourself. 

  Another night, you couldn’t sleep, you kept seeing dark snakes slither between beds—you told yourself that they aren’t real, there are no snakes so high in the mountain of Liyue… they are far more common between the mountains, in thick forests with plenty of opportunities for food for their size. 

  They never approach your bed, one circles around it before disappearing behind a shelf of ointments. Later the same morning, exhausted and dozing from a sleepless night, you thought you saw a white snake under the bandage around your left arm looking at you, you reached out to pet it, but it slid back inside. Into your bandages. Into your skin.

  The week drags on for what feels like several of them. Every morning, Ming Hui would perform a cleanse and try to purify parts of your body to keep the miasma from spreading into it, but you weren’t sure how much it was helping, at least, you didn’t start feeling better until a week and a half after the seven days of cleansing. 

  With a groan, you prop yourself up and get into a sitting position, fumbling to grab one of the seven or so books on the table next to the cot, you let it fall open onto your lap. Staring at the ceiling is impossibly boring, and you hope your body is giving you some energy to use your brain at least a little. The book doesn’t have a name on the cover, nor does it look like a printed book—it’s full of handwriting and for a moment you thought Guizhong might have accidentally lent you a diary… but as you squint and read further, you see that it’s something of a logbook. 

  Documentation of a crew’s trip on the sea, the management of resources and the direction of the winds… it’s a surprisingly soothing read, you craft the ship in your mind and imagine the soothing brush of waves against the wood, sun beating down and warming the skin.

  You open your eyes again as a healer touches your shoulder and asks to see your left arm again, you didn’t even realise you fell asleep. The prickly sensation of their fingers prodding at your arm is strange, like it’s felt through a few layers of clothing… you can feel it, but just kind of. You feel like you used to be able to tell what texture was touching you—a finger or a glove, the grass or floor. But now it all feels like the same kind of poking.

  You feel a fragment of dread every time Ming Hui comes up to your bed, but thankfully the last few times, she’s just been bringing you things. Doughy snacks from the capital, some sesame balls from the kitchens, papers and ink to draw on, anything. Unfortunately none of the foods or snacks stick in your belly for long… but it’s nice to taste them, if only a small nibble with the front of your teeth and a poke of your tongue. 

  It has been a long morning, you had woken up early due to your back starting to hurt because you’ve been laying down for so long—you really wish you could start to walk around, but even just sitting up feels like you’re leaving half your organs behind on your mattress… you look up as you hear footsteps approach and see a familiar face, though not one you expected.

  Cloud Retainer—rather roughly—takes your arm and lifts it up vertically, you make a strange startled, as well as surprised sound and try to tug it back, but she holds it firmly. Ground Mender follows behind and sighs. “Be gentle,” she scolds. 

  “Hmph, a sound of pain merely shows there’s still feeling in the limb,” she moves it horizontally and squeezes the sides of your elbow, you have no idea what she’s doing. “Squeeze into a fist for me.” 

  You do as she asks, curling your fingers as much as you can—it’s not a very good squeeze, if any, but you manage to curl them into a fist with trembling fingers, your fist twitches from the effort. “Like this?”

  “Hm, good enough,” she nods and begins to undo the bandage. You look at Ground Mender, but she doesn’t seem to stop the other adeptus, so surely it’s okay… the bandages have been changed many times, but you’ve always been either been half-asleep or too out of it to pay attention to it. The white cloth falls away from your skin and reveals a rather uncomfortable sight—your arm looks like it’s been through the ringer. The skin is uneven and looks more like crumpled parchment stretched over bone than the arm you’re more familiar with, the deep wounds were beginning to close but you could still clearly see the raised edges where it separated, having been knit together twice. 

  It’s a mangled, uncomfortable thing, your fingers twitch and a dull tug pulls at your senses where you think your joints should be—as if the entire arm was misaligned, off-kilter.

  Cloud Retainer turns your arm wrist up and then wrist down, looks at it with a scrutinising eye behind those red-rimmed glasses. You wonder if adepti need glasses or if it’s just fashion. 

  “What are you searching for?” you ask, your arm is tired, being raised like that for so long. You want to let it lay down and rest. 

  The adeptus pokes your palm with a sharp nail and your fingers twitch again, your eyebrows furrow in mild annoyance… you can only tolerate being prodded at without explanation for so long. Finally, she graces you with an answer. “The miasma is concentrated heavily in your arm, most of what was in your stomach has been pulled out… but there is little to do with this part here.”

  You look down at your arm… it doesn’t look as rotted as you recall others’ bodies would become after as long as it has stayed in your arm. A bit discoloured, maybe… just, different. “Little to do? Extraction has never failed… can’t we just dig in and drag it out…?” you don’t have the energy or capacity to recount a lengthy process, but cleansing has never failed you—you have yet to find an object or person who was too far gone.

  And surely, you are not…?

  Cloud Retainer wraps your arm again carefully, you see the golden eyes of a snake staring at you from between the bandages.

  “Then… what do we do?” you ask as if there was something for you to do. You can barely hold your arm at chest-height for too long.

  Cloud Retainer holds her hand out to Ground Mender, who hands her the familiar wooden board someone is always holding when standing by your bed. “Observe for now, the miasma is contained below your elbow—” you look at the ink on your arm, locked. “—and it doesn't seem to be rotting the skin, it’s stagnant.”

  You were better for a while, and got worse again. 

  You could imagine the ship, high tides and low, rocking among the waving ocean—a peek of sunlight. Two suns, warmth and stability. A calm sea surrounded by raging waters. 

  The perpetual taste of bile stings the back of your throat, it’s a wonder if you aren’t in danger of malnourishment—you’re unsure you’ve kept down a meal in three weeks. Your head swims and you get nauseous if you lie down, you’re nauseous if you sit up. The world spins when you try to stand, even with attendants insisting you move your legs and body to prevent clotting from forming in your feet. You are practically hauled onto a cart of some sort that holds only your upper body, when strength slips between your fingers and you slide off—only just barely caught by the attendants and brought back to bed, they decide to just assign someone to apply pressure to your feet instead to promote blood flow.

  It’s strange… it’s all treatment and techniques you’ve familiarised yourself with over the last months you’ve been working for the capital. But it feels so foreign to be on the receiving end. 

  Like a rocking ship, you managed to down some foods one morning—and kept them down over lunch time, for the first time in… how long has it been? You feed some of the congee to a smaller snake by your bedside. 

  Everyone around you seemed very excited, but you didn’t have the energy to return it—you know in your heart and gut that it could change at any moment… your day moves slowly as you flip the page of a rather difficult book Cloud Retainer gave to you, it’s only about half writing and the rest is just numbers. Your eyes rise when you see Morax approaching your bed, and you straighten instinctively—he has something in his hand, a bamboo food basket with a long handle. “Good afternoon,” he greets evenly and takes a foldable table that’s used to prop on the bed to allow patients to eat there. He sets the basket on the table over your lap—over your book—and steps away again… Morax has been very quiet recently, and you’re unsure why. You would never say you know him well, you are just barely on greeting or chatting terms, but you still feel a sense that something weighs on his mind. 

  He returns again with a spoon. “Zhou’s son recently made travels to the west, and on my walk through the streets, the old man demanded I try some cuisine his son had studied there. This is supposed to be easily digestible,” Morax takes your right hand, despite it being very much healthy and mobile. His slender fingers slide below your wrist and lift your hand where he lays the spoon against your upturned palm, your fingers instinctively curl around the cutlery despite the fact that your eyes aren’t watching it. His expression is firm, stiff and stony. 

  “It’s not dinner time yet,” you’re not sure why you said it, perhaps the silence was uncomfortable, or you want his gaze to leave your torso and rise to meet yours. 

  He blinks, there are so many things on his mind that it gets pulled away even in the respite he’s taking in bringing you food. “Yes, my apologies. Master Zhou was rather insistent that I stop by and taste his son’s food no matter the time of day, he said finding me during meal hours is too complicated,” Morax lets go of your arm and his hand goes to the basket, he takes the top off and the dish out.

  While the congee you ate this morning was nice and light on your stomach—this dish was a pale yellow as opposed to the white of the congee. It smelled warm and comforting but mild, like a stone left under the midday sun, a hot spring on a cold winter’s day in the mountains where the flakes melt against your cheeks, but your body and shoulders are enveloped in a warmed watery blanket. 

  You stop staring at the dish and stick your spoon into it, it’s soft and moist, the rice separate easily as you scoop a small bite past your lips, careful not to have too much at a time—your stomach has traumatised you over the week by acting up over the smallest thing.

  “Ground Mender and Cloud Retainer surmised that though initially we thought enough of the miasma had been cleared from around your organs, your body is still too weak to push out the rest by itself,” Morax finds a stool to sit on next to your bed, not wanting to intrude on the mattress itself. In your convinced state, the bed is your only privacy space that only feels more confined when the curtains are closed around it. 

  The bite of food fills your mouth—and though your taste buds are extra sensitive now with not eating a lot of foods for so long… licking a sesame ball doesn’t count for much, it tastes very much like the warm embrace the smell and temperature brings. The rice is soft and nearly dissolves on your tongue, the creamy texture of the bite spreading in your mouth and down your throat—it’s five times more warming and powerful than a sip of warm water to smooth out your scrunchy stomach. It gets to work and you instantly feel a sense of ease. 

  Morax watches you as you lick your lips, dipping the spoon again. “What is it? It’s very nice,” you ask as you take another—now a fuller spoon—of the surprising dish.

  “Khichdi,” Morax says the word carefully, as if he were trying to mimic a pronunciation. “After master Zhou’s son returned, a lot of the dishes he learned to make have become very popular in the neighbourhood.”

  You hum, you can see why—the flavour is very unique, even if it’s not very strong, it’s likely made with ingredients not found in the Guili Assembly. “Some vegetables could add to it,” you muse to yourself, but quickly try and correct yourself. “I-I mean, it’s very good like this, thank you—”

  Morax, however, seemed sheepish for a moment. “Ah… there are vegetables in it… but master Zhou asked for your preference and I couldn’t answer, I deemed it safer to ask them to chop a chosen few of them into… miniscule pieces, in case chewing would be discomforting, or you didn’t like the taste.”

 You look down at the bowl, sure enough, there are specs of green and red—how small can you even chop a vegetable?! This looks like a crumb of salt, you think as you squint at a tiny flake of red on your spoon between two grains of rice… your taste buds are in shambles, even just the flavours of this was making it difficult to tell the ingredients, though there are some you have never tasted before. “Ah, thank you for your consideration,” you say before setting another—now spoonful—in your mouth. You almost wish you had bread now, when even two days ago you couldn’t even think about food without your stomach curling up. 

  Another silence lingers, but it’s not uncomfortable—not waiting or hesitant. You slowly eat while Morax sits, he looks around the calm ward, it’s usually only used in dire circumstances—when the usual infirmary tucked on the first floor on his side between the palaces is full, you’re the only patient being tended to now. “Perhaps you will soon be ready to go above ground,” Morax says absently, not turning his head to you yet.

  “Hm? Someone could surely carry me there now, I can try walking again,” you say after a swallow, realising you were eating a bit too fast, you slowed down; your grandmother wouldn’t have you consuming a meal made in kindness at breakneck speed without appreciating the flavour and effort. 

  “Though I’m glad you feel confident, I would rather avoid you hurting yourself,” Morax shakes his head slowly. “We will see what Ground Mender says in the morning, if you keep this down.”

  You better, you tell yourself. 

  Morax stuck around until you finished, and he helped put away the wooden board as well as placed the bowl back into the basket which had been set aside. You expected him to leave, but he walks around the bed to the side of your injured arm and extends his own right hand. “May I?”

  Raising your arm slowly, it stutters and jerks slightly, as if you were fighting against your own muscles for them to listen to your commands.Morax takes your arm kindly, treats it with a gentle touch you would expect from a seasoned healer… a soft glow emits from his hands and you feel their warmth seep into your skin, for a moment it is comforting, a taste of the khichdi from his hands to your skin.

  But suddenly, it’s too hot—it burns.

  You yank your arm back instinctively, as if you had laid it on a raging fire and not realised until the flames licked your skin. “Ah—” your right hand fingers dig into the bandage of your left arm, trying to squeeze away the pain, to inflict it differently and drain it out.

  Morax tenses at the sudden reaction, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion you didn’t see long enough to discern. “What is it?” he asks with urgency, but he doesn’t touch you again. Not if it was his touch that was the cause of your startling. “Did I hurt you?”

  “N-No,” you say quickly, but you’re not sure—it only happened because his fingers rested on your arm, but they were gentle, like leaves brushing against cobblestone in a drifting breeze. “What were you doing?”

  You don’t mean for your question to sound accusing, you hope Morax doesn’t take it as such. He looks from your eyes down to your clutched arm, eyebrows pinched in thought. “Does it still hurt?”

  “A little…” you mumble. Your arm tingles and your fingers tremble slightly, it has felt strangely cold—as opposed to the warmth that always emanated from corrupt skin, the miasma displaying symptoms of infections, because one corrupted is being infected. 

  “I was merely examining your energies, but as soon as I touched them…” he looked at his own hand. Your body had rejected his energies before—but they had not simply evaporated now, he was pushed back. 

  He does not like it. 

  You rub at your arm gently, nails scratching at the bandage now that you had the excuse. The bandage is wrapped so densely, your skin is moist and itchy. “Don’t scratch it,” Morax scolds as you do, and with a defeated sigh you look up at him again and tense. 

  There is an unmoving silence before you quickly look away again, but Morax saw the surprise and—fear? Concern?—on your face before you turned back to your arm. He says your name firmly, firmer than you’re sure you’ve heard before. “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing,” you say quickly. There was a snake around his shoulders. Writhing and wrapping around his throat. 

  They’re not real. You must just be malnourished, sick. Hallucinating. 

  Morax doesn’t react when the snake squeezes his neck.

  It’s not real.

  You pant, heart racing and pounding against your chest—you feel it so vividly you’re sure you could lay your fingers over your chest and pinch it when it presses between your ribs. You feel dizzy, and disoriented, eyes looking down to your left arm, it’s there—all fingers attached as usual. 

  Just seconds ago it had been red, open, you could reach out and touch the bone, you could wrap your fingers around it while your skin and muscles slipped off your arm and landed with a wet squelching sound on the floor.

  You’ve been having nightmares again. 

  It doesn’t have any comprehensive or predictable patterns, one night your head is in the maws of a beast, another you’re drowning under a tidal wave of iron-tasting water, unable to breathe or see as it stings your eyes and burns your lungs. You squeeze your eyes shut, running your right hand over your face tightly, squishing your nose slightly with your palm. 

  It’s exhausting. The day is tiring enough already, and you find no solace in sleep. You don’t even have the luxury of turning from one side or the other, any position other than flat on your back feels like your intestines are going to spill out through your belly button. 

  You glance at the breakfast laid out for you, sitting on the bedside table as it cools. Congee and some bread… but you don’t feel hungry. Not for what feels like the hundredth bowl of congee, you haven’t returned your meals in a few days, but yet Ground Mender denied you when you asked if you could be brought above ground.

  “We don’t have much space in the palace infirmary.”

  “Did something happen?” you had asked, you hadn’t heard of anything, but you haven’t heard much of the outside world in a while.

  Ground Mender changed the subject without telling you, and you were starting to feel that you were being kept alone in this massive hall for… what? You’re getting better, slowly, you managed to walk around your bed with some support, but you would never make it up the endless staircase leading to the sun-touched hallways. 

  It’s been a month and a half, according to an attendant that brought your breakfast. Your muscles have atrophied terribly and even just standing so someone can help you bathe is exhausting. 

  A hand touches your breakfast tray and you look up to see Moon Carver. It feels like every person you’ve met in the last months has been coming around to check on you… it’s strange. You’ve never stayed in one place for long enough for anyone to notice absent days of sickness, to inquire why you close your home off for cleansing for a week.

  You had returned to a small village that specialised in silk weaving and no one had remembered your face, despite the fact you had discovered the foul energies poisoning a part of the nearby forest, which caused a devastating number of lost silkworms over the span of three years. 

  You had seen your reflection recently and didn’t recognise yourself either. 

  “Time to stretch your legs, come on,” the adeptus tilts his head for you to get up. “The more you skimp out, the longer it will take to build those muscles up again.”

  If you don’t move, he’ll continue to pester you… you move the blanket off your lap and Moon Carver takes under your right elbow to help you stand. You’re steadier on your feet than you were before, but you always feel like your legs’ sense of balance is different from your mind’s. 

  “Starting to think you ask for babysitting duty,” you mumble, a poor attempt at humour as you take careful steps. You feel exhausted, but not like you would after running—there’s no burn, there’s no ache or cramp. You just feel like you’re going to slink down onto the floor like a dropped paper, swaying back and forth before gliding under a cabinet. 

  Moon Carver huffs, his grip is strong. “It’s not easy to say no to this one’s Lord.”

  “Would you if it were?” you wonder why Morax would ask Moon Carver to check on you, surely he has more important things to do. 

  He doesn’t answer, changing the subject. You’ve started to notice that when an adeptus doesn’t want to tell you something, they will just become quiet or dodge your question. “Let us go towards the stairs and back.”

  You frown. “All the way? It’s far…”

  It’s barely thirty steps, sixty in total there and back. You’ve walked this distance without a thought several times, so many you can’t begin to imagine how often. Light on your feet, walking briskly with tools, trays or heavy baskets you are sure you couldn’t try to lift up now. 

  It seems so far, yet you know it’s not. You just have to put one foot in front of the other, not think, not look at the distance, look at your feet, the floor. 

  You’ve had different nightmares. 

  Strange, different.

  Sinking below the claustrophobic, choking earth. Deeper into the iron water. Sinking. Watching the surface of the world like a reflection of sunlight from above the sea, blinding. 

  They’re vivid, but not scary.

  Just strange. Different. 

  Not nightmares.

  You wake and feel the warmth of the sun on your cheeks, it filters through oiled paper and you shift to your side. You don’t feel pain laying on your side anymore, but it’s not comfortable either… but you want to sleep, and the sun—though filtered—is in your eyes. You prefer to lay on your right side when you rarely roll, it’s easier if you have to sit up. 

  “Hmm, I would have thought you would be happy to see the sun?” Guizhong sets her hands on her hips, standing next to your bed suddenly—you didn’t hear her approach, but her preference to forgo shoes makes her footsteps very quiet. 

  You are happy to see it, Moon Carver helped Ground Mender carry you up the stairs last night. There’s less quiet in the palace infirmary, more patients coming and going and attendants rushing about… but as you don’t feel as sick as you did even just a week ago, it’s not as overwhelming to hear people wandering about, if anything, it’s comforting. 

  “I am,” you mumble, giving up on your prolonged rest to turn back on your back. “It’s warm.”

  “It won’t be for long, summer is coming to an end soon,” Guizhong approaches your bed and makes room for herself on the side of it next to you. “You should try and enjoy the warmth while it’s still here, do you want to go outside?”

  You do, you want to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, to breathe in the fresh mountain air and feel the breeze ruffle your clothes. 

  But you don’t trust yourself to make it alone, even if you were to just stand by the walkway and hold onto the railing. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course,” Guizhong moves off the bed and straightens. “Let’s greet the fishes in the gardens.”

  You want to squat down and let the carps nibble on your finger, but you worry you might not be able to get back up easily, or you might pull on something. Instead, you merely stare longingly while Guizhong kneels down and feeds them from her hand.

  There’s not much wind today, barely the breeze you longed for—but even just the soft brush of air is more than you’ve had for weeks. You squint up towards the sky, a few clouds lazily drifting across the vast expanse as the sun hangs high above your heads.

  You hear the waters of the pond and small stream that cuts through the back gardens, a usually peaceful ambiance that makes you slightly uneasy now. You can’t imagine yourself stepping into a river anytime soon… you know that rationally, there is no danger in the small waters of the gardens, but the thought of touching the waters makes your skin crawl. 

  Footsteps approach the two of you and Cloud Retainer stops next to you—she has a floating bird crafted from bamboo and paper next to her, you hope it doesn’t shoot darts at the fish—with a flourish of her hair. “Your breakfast is waiting for you.”

  Ah. “I’m not hungry,” you turn your gaze away from the eccentric inventor, looking down to the Lord of Dust that pets every fish that comes to eat from her hand. 

  “You said the same thing last night,” she folds her arms over her chest. “You need energy.”

  She’s right, of course. “... okay, I’ll try.”

  You sit on the side of the road, a weary log under you and soft grass beneath your feet, the sun slowly sinks below the treeline as you stretch your legs and raise your gaze to the pink sky, your surroundings are peaceful and silent—a captured moment in time where you get to be alone with yourself. 

  Long, high trees line the road behind you and shield you from the rest of the world, the view before you is a comfort and home. Rolling hills, distant farms and fields of flowers spread over the land, coloured orange and pink with the reflective sky.

  A child runs past you, they trip on a rock and tumble to the floor—but no sounds of pain leave them, giggles and snickers as an older sibling runs past them, grabbing their shirt and hauling them up on their feet as they continue their sprint. 

  You don’t recognise them, but they feel familiar.

  You feel no wind nor the heat of the sinking sun, the sky is clear of clouds and birds, there is nothing but the wide scroll of the heavens furling across the air, opening up to reflect their blessings of fertile lands and fresh produce. You stretch your arms above your head and stand up, patting your clothes down to rid of any grass or dirt before continuing on your way. 

  You see him in the distance, and your pace increases. A flow of white robes and long brown hair, he turns off the gravel road and walks towards the thick treeline. Where is he going? You only see his back, the golden lines glowing in the darkening surroundings—as if beckoning you to follow, a guiding light. 

  But before you can leave the road and follow him into the forest, a hand grabs your elbow and stops you.

  You hear your name and blink—there’s no trees in front of you, there is a deep crater that is centred with a pool of water. Dry dirt crumbs fall down from below your foot and roll to the body of water, creating ripples in the still waters.

  Suddenly, you feel as if all the weight of the world is bearing down on your body, you’re cold, your feet hurt—you’re not wearing shoes. You stand at the edge of a crater, one step from tumbling down, and in the battered state you’re already in, it wouldn’t be a good tumble. You look back and see Morax staring at you, his hair is tousled and eyes strangely wide—you have never seen his face make such a vivid expression, one of surprise and concern. He tugs you backwards and you fall into him, your legs give out and tremble with strain. There’s a dull, agitating throb in your arm and stomach, a pulsing throb in tune with your heartbeat, in tune with the sway of the grass around you. Back-forth. Back-forth—

  You hear your name again, his arms hold you up and prevent you from sinking down to the ground. “Can you hear me?” 

  You can, but you find it difficult to voice your confirmations. You’re cold, it’s nighttime—how is it night already? The stars dot the sky with bright flickers and you try to stand, but your feet feel like heavy weights, a thrumming prick of needles rushes through them when you try to put pressure on them. 

  Why does it feel like he is always seeing you at your worst? 

  Sick. Injured. Hurting. 

  You would rather fall into the crater, he must think you a burden on—

  “You’re trembling,” his voice is louder than the brushing wind, louder in your ear than the sway of branches and rustling of leaves. “How have you found yourself here? In the darkness of night, alone and so far from the city?”

  He sounds different, urgent and more pointed—as if a front has been reached through, a hand through fog holding your arms as he steadies you against him. Morax’s body is warm. “You… it was you, I was following you,”you finally manage. But when did you start chasing him? You don’t remember starting a journey. 

  “Me?” he hesitates for only a beat of your erratic heart. “Are you certain?” Morax reins in his urgent tone, carefully choosing his words. “Word was sent to me that you had disappeared from your bed, it has been two days—do you know where you are?”

  “No,” it’s an easy question to answer, despite it being so difficult to think of what had just happened mere hours ago, days ago—a week ago. Your tense of time is ruffled, what had been the last thing you had been doing? Were you asleep before or after finishing the book Guizhong had left you?

  “The energies in your arm have spread again,” he moves—tugging your rather limp body along with him as he kneels on the soft ground. You feel the tickle of grass on your calves and realise you’re still wearing the short pants and shirt you were put in and made to use by the medical ward. Morax tilts you towards him as he unfurls the bandage on your arm, your side and right arm rest against his chest and torso, your head falling rather lamely against his shoulder—it’s a strangely intimate position that neither of you consider given the circumstance, it doesn’t feel intimate, it only serves the purpose of not having you fall over while his hands are occupied.

  The ink that had been sealing the miasma below your elbow was smudged—this type of ink doesn’t smudge for this specific reason. Blackened veins travel up your arm, so stark against your skin that they might as well be drawn on. They rise up your bicep and fade just below your neck. Morax’s eyes are focused and firm as he turns your throbbing arm palm up to examine it further. “The seal has been torn,” his fingers ghost over the blackened veins on your arm, you’ve only felt his gloved hands before, you wonder if his fingers are softer than the texture of his clothes. “You said you were following me.”

  You were… or, you thought so. “It looked like you,” you say it more so to yourself than him.

  “Did you see its face?” he asks as he wraps your arm again,  your skin is ice cold to the touch—the weather has cooled as summer is coming to an end, and with the Guili Assembly’s elevated land, it gets colder faster. 

  “No,” you mumble, shoulders raised as a cool breeze brushes past your neck, raising shivers on your skin. 

  Morax doesn’t ask further questions, but it doesn’t leave his mind either. He believes what you say, what you saw… real or not, it only serves to drive his concern for your well-being, physical and mental. 

  His hand raises, and you feel something touch your head. You squint your eyes open—you didn’t even realise you had closed them—and tilt your head to look at his face. Morax’s face is so close you can feel the warm brush of his breath on your cold chin, it blooms over the bottom half of your face. “What are you doing…?”

  His fingers halt and lift from your head, Morax blinks down at you. “I… heard it is a sign of comfort.”

  He was patting your head, trying to comfort you—it was… rather cute, that he tried even while struggling to grasp whether it would be appreciated or not. “Oh… thank you, it’s okay,” your torso doesn’t feel as cold anymore. Morax seems to take your waiting eyes as permission, and his palm rests on your head again, carefully. He doesn’t stroke or scratch like one would do with a pet or animal, his palm and fingers lift slightly and touch back down a few times. 

  You never thought you would be petted like this by a god, had you told yourself a few months ago, you would have found it funny—silly maybe. But… now that his warm hand touches your head gently, you find that it is comforting.

[zhxngii]

— ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜Your dragon boyfriends/husbands who'll immediately feel a wave of jealousy and the need to be possessive over you as they catch a scent on you that happens to not be yours or their own... They're a little rougher than usual, changing from their soft demeanor to something more dominating as they pin you down under them.

They don't allow you to move an inch as they repeatedly pound their cock(s ;)) into your tight cunt, their lips right near the shell of your ear as they breathe ragged breaths and go on about how you only belong to them... how they'll make sure their scent can overpower whoever's was currently on you at the time.

Neuvillette, Zhongli, Dan Heng, + your faves <3

[blueparadis]

when the world is asleep. when you and your dragon!boyfriend are making love, full of kisses and giggles his tail starts to wag. its involuntary at certain times. at night he lets the human veil down and embraces his true form. using his tail to pull you towards himself or just wrapped it around your tummy when he is eating you out to make you just stop fidgeting. sometimes you get pouty when he uses his tail to embrace you. why wouldn't you be? after all, using his tail : that's a reminder between your strength and his. he wishes he could use it all the times but can't. the contrast between strength is just too surprising sometimes. the primal urge to mate with you always going against up your fragile human body. doesn't understand the concept of use of protection not even pull out method but he is open to experiment. he wants to experience what your previous human exes have experienced but now that you have introduced him to both of the methods it turned against you. with his tail wrapped around your tummy and his cock flattened on his, you writh against him. his hands are busy playing with your tits, doesn't forget to soothe up kisses when your breaths get long and hard as you just grind your pussy against his cock. to think you are the one losing control, craving him is kinda embarrassing given the fact that other nights he practically has you pinned down on bed with your back against him as he pounds on you, tip of tongue pressed in between his teeth with each precision hit when he slows down followed by ocassional tail wagging. he can feel it coming down, the high of your desires for him, you trying to use your hand to put his member inside yourself but he can't let you do that. not when he gets to enjoy the cacophony of your moans and whimpers with just light feather touch. but just like him you know his sensative spot too. bowing down over his chest after being denied to cum holding his horns earns you a growl and then you onto his nape, grazing with your hands earning a louder growl as you still rub yourself against him, moving you hips against his cock. he is going to crack soon, any time now. he pushes you away heavily panting as you sit on his cock flabbergasted at his reaction. he blinks and then opens his eyes. its glowing. he immediately sits up aligning his cock with your entrance, licking your sweaty skin. his moans mixed with growls has started to become even, he finally wraps his tail around your tummy, hands embracing your body and his mouth latching onto one of your tits. he still hasn't started to move yet tho. and it seems that he is learning to punish you for toying with his desires.

[sheepmc]

Morax takes what he wants

MDNI!!

Morax who's mean and rough just treats you like a fuckslut, a cumdump for his pleasure he will degrade and praise you for being a good cockwhore taking his cocks down your throat facefucking you until he satisfied

Morax will not stop even if you beg him to, he'll just keep rutting his hips into you pushing you pass your limits and bounds of overstimulation

Morax loves it when you make a mess for him likes to spit on your pussy and leave a couple slaps too

Morax who takes all your hole at once his cocks in each hole while his fingers is in your mouth

Morax is an absolute mean dom but that's not to say he won't give you the best aftercare you deserve

@moraxsthrone @crystalflygeo @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @zhxngii @kurikurikurisu

[angelltheninth]

An Archon's Fated One

Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, failed arranged marriage, running away, love confession, loss of virginity, kissing, mating bite, protectiveness, creampie, tail shenanigans, Rex Lapis!Zhongli

Word count: 1.5k

Ao3

A/N: Come get your dragonfucking smut!

You knew from the start that the arranged marriage wouldn't work out. Your so called husband was an abusive, entitled asshole, besides your heart already belonged to someone else. It has for a very long time. He was the only one you loved, the man you ran to for safety and comfort, Rex Lapis, Morax, or as you knew him, Zhongli.

The door to his home opened as soon as you approached, he senses you, moreover he sensed your distress. "Ah, I didn't mean to frighten you. When I felt you approach I... your... your wrists... your neck... what?" His eyes widened in horror as he took you in. You must have looked pretty pathetic to him, crying and cowering by his side as he ushered you inside, placing his hooded coat over you, unmindful of his own half-nakedness.

He didn't push you for answers, he ordered for a bath to be ready for you, and any change of clothes you wished. When you walked beside him you could feel his thick tail caressing your lower back and your legs. No hands. Not until you told him it was okay to do so.

Would he think you even weaker if he knew? You were human so you already paled in comparison to a god. You knew that even if he shared your feelings your relationship would never last. Zhongli opened the door for you to show you into the bedroom you normally stayed at when you spent the nights at his place. He never crossed the line of sleeping with you, he never even kissed you, the most you got out of him were late night cuddles and breakfast.

No wonder your husband was jealous. You spent more time with here then with him. Doesn't change the fact that you never wanted to marry him in the first place. Or what he did to you.

"Wait." You called out, hands touching Zhongli's tail, "Please don't go. I'm... scared of being alone tonight."

Zhongli turned to face you and let his hands hover over your shoulders, still waiting for your signal. After you gave him a nod you felt his warmth, his arms pull you into a hug, against his chest, felt exactly where his arm markings stopped, and when you hugged him back felt where his dragon trail began as your hands rested on the small of his back.

The bed was just as soft as always, like what you imagined sleeping on a cloud might feel like. The only sturdiness was Zhongli himself. "He did this, am I correct?" Your tremble of fear was confirmation enough. Zhongli snarled, his eyes flashing bring yellow for a moment before he took a deep breath of your scent to calm down. "I should have sensed it. I should have been there. I am so sorry darling."

You snuggled deeper into his arms, taking in his comforting words and petname, "I told him I wanted a divorce, that... there was someone else." His arms slackened slightly, but you kept going, "I told him I loved an Archon and he laughed at first. Then I told him... that it was you. He... accused me of cheating on him."

His silence invited you to keep talking, as did his tail, now coiling around you.

"Because I was here so often he thought we were sleeping together. Didn't believe me when I said we were only friends. He got angry, really angry." Your body shook remembering his hands around your neck, the names he called you, the insults.

"So you ran here. To me." Zhongli's voice sounded lower then usual. It sent a very different kind of chill down your body, one that finished between your legs. It was shameful. How something so simple had an effect on you. It wasn't anything new for you, when you were in here you always had your hand between your legs at least once a night, not daring to call his name out.

"Because I knew you'd keep me safe Zhongli. I trust you."

"You love me." He announced, shifting his body until he was on top of you, looking down at you, his face still stoic but his hands conveying his love as they cupped your face. "If you so wish, if you would allow me, I could make you my woman. My mate."

Your heart wanted it, your cunt did too, pulsing and empty, "I don't need you to pity me. I know I'm just a human. I have nothing to offer you."

"That is not true. For years now you've been coming here, keeping me company, talking to me, keeping me from going insane. Also," He bent down and nosed your neck, "don't think I don't know what you've been doing in here. This is my domain, I hear and see everything and everyone."

It was probably you who spread your legs for him, made it easy for his hips to push between them, for him to press his rock hard bulge against your core. There was so much heat between you two, but not enough friction. He could fix that, you could see he ached to fix that if only you said the words.

"Zhongli, please make me yours." Every other time you uttered those words it was in the thorns of passion and without him there to do so. Now he was here, on top of you, pealing off your clothes layer by layer until you lay naked beneath him. His pants followed, revealing that hard cock that's been the subject of your dreams for so many nights.

"Has he..." Zhongli trailed off, his body shaking as he aligned himself up with your entrance, gathered some wetness at the tip and waited.

You shook your head, "He wanted me to submit on my own, but how could I when I only wanted you." You reached back, undoing the tie in his hair with one hand and scratching at the base of his strong horn with the other, feeling the scales there. And with your heels you felt the beginning of his tail as you pulled him closer, "I want you to be the only one for me from now on."

"And I shall be." Zhongli handled you with gentleness, but also possessiveness, his hands running to your hips, his eyes following the bounce of your breasts when he entered you, the gulp you made that tapered off into a moan. It was very much to his liking. "My bite, I will hurt. However if you're to be my mate, my bride, it's necessary."

The pain of it scared you a little, but the pleasure you currently felt, his big, thick, throbbing cock rolling in and out of you with every movement of his hips was enough to distract you. You leaned up to kiss him first, "I do." You whispered against his lips, which made him tilt his head, "It's how humans seal a wedding."

"Ah. Then... I do." Zhongli's lips felt much hotter than your own, every part of him felt hotter. You wondered how his cum would feel. Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. His cock responded by twitching.

You leaned your head backwards, exposing your neck to him. His claws dug into the sheets and bedding beside your hips, clawing and tearing at them, he was trying to hold back from finishing. "I wanted you for so long. So long, my darling. The amount of seed I wasted when I should have been planting it inside your womb instead... it angers me."

Sharp teeth ticked your skin, feeling you gulp before they settled between your neck and your shoulder, "Please. I want to be yours Zhongli. In every sense of the word."

That firm tail now wrapped around your leg like a snake, pulling it to the side so that he could have even more room. You were right, the bite hurt, but the pain was pale when compared to the pleasure that flowed both in and out of you moments later. You were hot all over, hot as your body arched against his, hot on the inside as you would be impregnated by his seed tonight, the sheer amount spilling from you, making your thighs sticky.

Despite giving it your best shot you couldn't leave marks on his back, but you knew he felt that you tried, a pleasant rumble emanating from his lips as they pulled away from your neck. Zhongli rolled you both to the side, his tail trading being coiled around your leg to being coiled around your hips.

One of his hand pressed down against your stomach, his voice low, "I love you." It was almost too quiet to be a whisper. "I will keep you safe, I promise you. Nothing and no one will ever bring you harm again."

If you had enough strength you would have cried again at that very moment. There will be time for tears, both happy and sad in the future. For now you wanted to rest, to sleep your first night with him soundly. With him, Rex Lapis, Morax, Zhongli, your new husband.

[sexlapis]

ᝰ.ᐟ read me to sleep (zhongli’s version)

── .✦ zhongli x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, reading, established relationship, petnames

. wc: 1k

a/n: i’m finally living up to my name who would’ve thought? anyway. i’m just so obsessed with the idea of someone (with a very sexy voice) reading to me and that’s why i’m made this fic with zhongli (& nanami). it was lowkey tricky figuring out what petnames zhongli would call his s/o but i know he would not say ‘baby’ or anything modern.

masterlists

*

He’s not in bed when you wake up.

You blink sluggishly, rubbing the matter and tiredness out of your eyes before you paw at Zhongli’s side of the bed.

It’s only a little bit lukewarm, meaning he left bed quite a while ago.

But to do what?

You recall completing your nightly ritual which included showering, brushing your teeth, washing your face and kissing Zhongli goodnight and falling into a light sleep.

The bedroom door is slightly agar and you decide to take initiative and find your partner yourself.

Sitting up, you unravel yourself from the warm, pleasant satin sheets, wrap yourself in your thin blanket and pad out of the bedroom door and into the hallway.

You wander down the hallway of you and Zhongli’s shared home. It is furnished with cabinets and drawers of the freshest, finest mahogany, the walls embellished with painting of ancient myths of dragons, goddesses and vast mountains, created with an utmost delicate hand, along with traditional, treasured Chinese ornaments and decor.

It is like everything Zhongli touched turned to gold.

You pass the bathroom, guest room and office on your short journey, and then you end up in front of the library.

Of course he would be here.

The library was Zhongli’s favourite room in the entire house. Though it was not exactly sizable, it was cosy and contained rare collections of books that could not ever be found elsewhere.

Amber and vermillion light flickered from the sill of the door emitting from the fireplace, signalling to you that the room was very much in use by Zhongli.

You twist the doorknob and peek in.

There, sitting on a leather armchair, is Zhongli, his reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and a book held within his hands. The lights from the fireplace dance across Zhongli’s skin and his long, ombré hair.

He seems so engrossed in his book, he doesn’t seem to notice you at first. Something like this, him not noticing you come in or hearing you whatsoever, would only occur in the comfort of your shared home, where he feels safe.

“Zhongli,” you quietly call out.

Zhongli’s head perks up, looking at you.

“Oh!” He says your name in surprise. “I was not aware that you had awoken! I did not wake you, did I?”

“No…not necessarily…” You rest your temple on the doorframe, pouting a little. “I got up and went looking for you ‘cause you weren’t in bed.”

“Oh, I see.” Zhongli rests his concern frown. “I had only wished to read some pages of the book I am reading. ‘Rex Incognito, Volume 2’.”

“Ooooo…” You tiptoe over to him, looking over his shoulder at the book, “and is it good?”

“Well,” he sighs, “the ideas are…very interesting.”

You laugh, knowing that that is Zhongli’s way of saying ‘the book is trash’.

“But, I suppose I should get some rest. Sleep is essential for me now, after all.”

…When has it never been essential?

You shrug off that comment and stop him from getting up from his seat. “No, it’s okay. You can keep reading, I just wanna be here too.”

“Oh…well then…” Zhongli starts, then he realises you are blatantly eyeing his lap and he hums, a smile appearing on his lips. He spreads his legs a few inches, patting his thigh, “Come here.”

You practically hop into his lap like a bunny, causing him to laugh so wholeheartedly at your eagerness. The blanket around your shoulders now lay across your legs, and you nuzzle your head into his neck.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

“Yes…” You pause for a few moments, “Zhongli, I want you to read to me.”

“Hm? Do you? This book or another? This book is not exactly thrilling…”

“Yes, Zhongli,” you place your hand over his one, gently stopping him from moving, “I wanna hear you read this one.”

Zhongli’s warm eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, a tender look on his face. “As you wish.”

His body is hard. Solid. Like a rock. It makes you feel safe, steady and protected, guarded in his arms and his grand house like a dragon shielding his precious, beloved jewels.

Zhongli reads. His voice is rich, dulcet, sapid. It is so gentle yet so strong, like the thick stalk of bark and tree, sturdy and stable, yet smooth, like pouring a red wine into a delicate glass.

His voice flows through your body. With your ear pressed near his chest, you revel in the low rumble of his speech, the undeviating beating of his heart, and the bodily warmth that radiates from him.

All of this, along with the cosy ambience and the crackling of the fire has you on a journey to your perfect slumber.

“Does my reading bore you, dearest?”

Your eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. “Huh? No! Keep reading!”

“I jest, I jest.” Zhongli chuckles and you flick his arm. “Try to stay awake. The best part is coming soon.”

“Okay…”

You try to pry your eyes open with willpower alone, the sleepiness causing them to droop every few moments. Your heart wants you to stay awake so bad, to please Zhongli, but your body says ‘sleep, sleep, sleep’ and you have no choice but to obey.

“Zhongli,” you murmur with drowsiness, “Zhongli, ‘m gonna fall ‘sleep…”

He hums. “I know, my love. Please, sleep. I will continue reading to you until you are having the sweetest of dreams.” Zhongli rests his head on to of yours.

You are just so sweet in his eyes.

You grumble.

And then, slowly but surely, you are fading away into a deep, endless sleep, with Zhongli's melodious voice being your lullaby.

“‘And’-Ah.” Zhongli stops his reading when he realises you are fast asleep, you breath even and snores quiet. “Alright then,” he places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

*

Upon your awakening, Zhongli is gone again, most likely to perform his daily work duties.

But not before leaving you a traditional breakfast, cooked perfectly to the minute, along with a small note written in cursive penmanship, that reads:

Good morning, beloved,

I apologise for leaving so early, duty calls I’m afraid.

I hope you enjoy the breakfast I prepared. It is healthy and good for the start of the day.

Luckily, my duties will be complete at an earlier time. Perhaps we can have a satisfactory dinner and then have a relaxing night in?

No boresome books this time around.

Yours,

Zhongli

*

a/n: i tried to write him in character but i think i did too much lmao.

[izvmimi]

cw: post archon war, current time period. reader is a goddess. a little melancholy. mature but no overt smut.

“You’ve never taken a lover, have you, Morax?”

You mean your voice to be light, and it is, breathy with the levity conferred by a profoundly good fuck, a warm flush to your complexion still representative of your lingering affection for him. His eyes, lidded shut in quiet contemplation, open languidly and he turns, golden eyes on you and gleaming, quick to sense the playfulness in your voice.

“In this manner, do you mean to mock my technique?” he asks. His voice is low, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your loosely interlaced fingers.

You shift, pressing your legs together, and turning in his direction to face him. Your foreheads barely touch, and your lips remain just inches apart, as if they hadn’t connected frequently over the course of the night. He looks at them not hungrily but with tempered greed, like another kiss would be an overindulgence.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He sighs, and chooses not to kiss you yet, but pulls you closer. You adjust, resting your head on his chest, your fingers untangling from each other so that you can gently tap them against his chest. A few moments pass, and then he’s quick to take your hand again in his palm, bringing the fingertips to his lips. 

“But you do dare. I do now have to admit, I’m worried, that somehow you may not be satisfied with our time together.”

His voice is steady still and if he’s truly hurt and not just playing along with your joke, you won’t catch it. But he’s still handling you tenderly, and your desire for closeness persists. Throwing your knee over his waist is not enough; even the sensation of his body inside yours, filling you deeply, is not enough. 

You’re not sure yet what you want.

“I enjoy our time together always.” Your reminder is sincere, sweetly delivered.

“I could enthuse you in other things,” Zhongli asks. His eyes are to the ceiling, while yours are on him. “There are many games I have yet to teach you, perhaps over wine or tea.”

The idea of losing a game that you don’t understand in a foreign land doesn’t particularly enthuse you quite at all, but of course, you are a guest. A well taken care of guest, in fact, and often you wonder how many friends he’s made to replace the ones he’s lost over the eons - even if you’ve remained a constant from back then, gods often struggle to keep close relationships whether it’s among themselves or with mortals. You consider that Zhongli at least appears to be well loved in this new era, even if he keeps an air of seriousness around him that may push others away.

You wonder if he’s doing this with anyone else.

“You’d have me taste osmanthus wine again?” you ask him. 

“Why not?”

In a swift roll, you move so that you’re on top of him, and his arms rest around the base of your waist. Squishing his cheeks gently, then reveling in how his generally stoic countenance softens at your playfulness, you smile.

“I’m flattered. It’s been over a thousand years.”

Zhongli lets out a chuckle, pulling the covers to shield you from the cold of the early morning, the windows having remained open a crack to let out the smell of the incense you burned last night to pray for the dearly departed. It’s a tradition you’ve had with him for quite a while now, if only because it’s within your particular expertise to do so - that, and whatever this is, serving each other physically most of the night into the early morning and idle chat in the daytime.

It’s supposedly good for you, to expel that excess energy and to help him expel his, but sometimes you wonder.

“Zhongli.”

You use his mortal name sparingly, and it often catches his attention more readily than when you call him by his other name.

“Yes?” He is quick to respond, glowing amber oh so charitable to your thoughts.

How silly it is to call for his attention when he is right in front of you. 

You take a deep breath, then blurt out, “I know you would call this divine cultivation but I have no desire for more power in any way, shape, or form. Plus, I am quite balanced spiritually at this stage of my existence.”

He pauses.

“I understand.” His hand finds its way to caress your cheek gently, and you try not to let it distract you from your next statement.

“And what if I suggested also, that potentially, you yourself, might have enough?” To this, he sighs, and lets his hand drop.

“You are not wrong.”

Your heart skips a beat and soon you can no longer look at him, pressing your head against his chest instead for this next question.

“So what do we call this?” You finally ask. You want him to call it love but you don’t ask for it, and you’re embarrassed to fish deeper, and yet…

Humans have sex - rather, make love - for pleasure. You would like to do the same, rather than pretend that there is some higher purpose to the way you make each other feel, some greater meaning to your cries and moans of pleasure.

You can feel the heave in his chest as he responds.

“Claiming a moment for myself… chasing a feeling does not end well for me.”

You look into his eyes again, let his words flow into you. 

“No sooner than I claim something as my own, would it find its way far from me.”

You rise.

“Morax…”

You’ve called him by his old name again, and he laughs, but you are not laughing. Your face is warm and your heart pounds.

“Are you telling me that you care about me or not?”

The timing must be right again, because soon you are flipped under him, and he presses his lips against yours again, his hand cupping your face.

“I don’t control fate the way I would like to. Not anymore.”

You pull in a breath sharply, then whisper:

“A decision you made and can easily overturn.”

He shakes his head.

“A contract.”

Your arms wrap around his neck again.

“Anything can be renegotiated,” you remind him. Your lips graze again, and another sigh escapes the both of you.

“Not death,” he reminds you. He has you there. Your lips pull into a sad smile automatically.

“And thus in calling you my lover-” Zhongli continues.

“I did not ask you to call me your lover, I simply asked-” you start, shame sending flame through your body. He smiles before he interjects again.

“I run the risk of adding you to the list of things that exist to me only in memory.”

Your blood runs cold suddenly, and he finally pulls back from you, rising out of bed to stand. 

“We should begin our day,” he states, matter-of-factly. His hair is tousled still, the long lengths contrasting sharply against pristine pale skin, and you watch him in naked form move across the room to close the windows, the simple action fulfilled with the fluidity and grace of someone who’s probably existed long before time itself. Still grand, still heavenly. While he is undoubtedly calm, your heart thumps in beat with the tempest of thoughts in your mind.

Zhongli loves you, and it’s obvious. To call you dear out loud to him is akin to marking you for loss. Are you comfortable being loved if it will only add to his pain? Must you claim more than just the moments shared between the two of you?

“Zhongli,” you start, as he is just about to walk out of the room. He stops abruptly, and turns in your direction. He doesn’t say a word, just waits for you to speak. 

“I will not die,” you say out loud. You’re sitting up and perhaps now, you are the opposite of strength, looking painfully vulnerable in the way you’ve gathered soft sheets to cover your bosom, in sharp contrast to Zhongli who bothers not to hide anything, uncontested power personified.

For a moment, you can tell that he’s surprised by your declaration, and yet you press on.

“I will stay. Perhaps, if I want to, I will exist even long past you do. But I will stay in this realm, and I can be yours for eternity.” 

You pause, so that your voice does not waver. 

“You are allowed to love me.”

…

The early morning remains cold, but the birds begin to chirp their good mornings, and Zhongli speaks your name with greater tenderness than he ever has, as he makes love to you once more.

[moraxsthrone]

WHEN HE EATS YOU OUT FIRST THING IN THE MORNING...

ft. diluc, itto, kaeya, thoma, zhongli (x f!reader)

warnings: nsfw. mdni. somnophilia (itto, zhongli). mention: piss (thoma).

⋆｡°✩ DILUC —

rouses you with sweet, loving kisses on your shoulder. your eyes are still closed when a sleepy smile spreads across your face. you stretch, looping your arm around the back of diluc's neck, his soft, crimson hair tickling your sensitive skin. he traces his fingers down along the inside of your arm towards your chest, making you giggle with his titillating touch. you can hear his smirk when he hums next to your ear, his voice deep and heavy with the weight of sleep. "good morning, beautiful," he drawls. "mm~good morning, my love," you reply. his wandering hand reaches your breast, earning himself one of your sighs when your nipple is carded between his calloused fingers, gently squeezing your soft flesh. he moves to roll you onto your back as he lowers himself between your legs, taking your other nipple inside his scorching mouth before leaving a trail of kisses along your naked belly. you relax, your eyes sliding closed and your pretty fingers finding purchase in his messy hair as he blazes a path all the way down to your core. he kisses his way around your dewy lips before teasing your clit with kitten licks. your fingers curl in his wild mane when his dainty tongue strokes quicken, flicking with increasing fury as he begins to drag his leaking cock against the sheets beneath him, staining them with his precum.

⋆｡°✩ ITTO —

you awake to the unmistakable poke of your beloved oni's morning wood against your naked thigh. your head is on his barrel of a chest, your leg propped over his. he doesn't even know though bc he's still out cold. some of his cum is still leaking out of you from a few hours ago, but with the way he turns you out, you're ready for more. he's a hard sleeper though. you know the traditional methods of trying to wake someone up are not going to work with him, but you go through the motions anyway just so you can say you did. dragging your fingers up and down his huge arm, running your fingers through his thick, white hair, kissing his sexy neck, squeezing his horns, whispering sugary sweet and naughty things in his ear...nothing works. it's time to get creative. you know how much he loves it when you sit on his face so you get to your knees and position your thighs on either side of his head. you dip your finger inside your wet pussy and smear your slick on his lips. finally he grunts and you have to fight back the laughter when he starts sniffing the air. "itto?" he hums, but doesn't open his eyes. "itto, baby..." you coo, "i brought you breakfast in bed." after a dramatic yawn, he takes a deep breath through his nose again, smiles, and in his deep morning voice he says, "mmm...smells delicious, babe." he wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls them further apart for him. "i'm fucking famished," he growls, latching onto your clit. soon his hands are cupping your ass cheeks, guiding you back and forth, making you ride his face, his tongue deep inside your cunt as his nose nudges your tight bundle of nerves, wearing you down like a feed bag. he's a sloppy eater but you're not complaining. the way he opens his mouth wide and sucks your whole pussy while dipping his tongue into your semen-flavored hole has your eyes crossing.

⋆｡°✩ KAEYA —

our cryo casanova is a goddamn superfreak. you're both still hazy with sleep when he gets on his knees behind you. he hooks his hands around your hips and pulls your ass up in the air until you're presenting for him. your arms are still hugging the pillow that your head rests on as he leans over your body, his arms caging you in from above when you feel his hard cock slap your clit a few times. "keep your ass in the air for me, lover." his sultry voice has an edge to it that you'll only hear right after he's risen, and it goes straight to your needy core. "i wanna taste you before i ruin you for the day." you shiver as his cool lips travel down your spine. he massages your soft ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them, forcing them apart to expose your winking pussy. "kaeya...baby..." you're pushing your ass higher into the air, back arching, hips rocking, practically begging to feel his tongue, his lips, his anything. finally, you feel the tickle of his hair on your skin, then the merciful drag of his tongue over your dripping slit. you moan loudly into your pillow, gritting your teeth as kaeya flicks his silver tongue over your pink bud a few times before sucking it in hard, pulsing his tongue against it like he's trying to drink you down to the last drop. but he settles for just a taste before he's back on his knees, straddling the backs of your thighs to sink his purple, weeping tip inside you.

⋆｡°✩ THOMA —

THIS SWEET BOI IS A PLEASURE DOM FIGHT ME. you basically wake up making out with this boy. one of your hands is playing with his dark pink nipple while the other is wrapped around his pretty cock, stroking him slowly against your precum-coated thigh. he hasn't even taken his morning piss yet when you start to lower yourself to taste the sticky, salty essence of his cock. but this pyro-wielding waifu stops you, kisses you, his hand framing your ear before gently pushing you back down on the bed. "let me take care of you first, milady..." you're so weak for this precious pussy-pleasing boy you go along with every word he says. "your pussy always tastes so good in the morning..." the word pussy sounds naughtier when it rides on thoma's sweet, innocent morning voice. his fingers drag their way along the column of your neck, down between your cleavage, all the way to your pretty kitty where he spreads your pink petals apart. his soft lips ghost over your hard pearl, your back arching off the bed when you grab a fistful of his blond hair, feeling his hot breath when he whimpers quietly against your clit.

⋆｡°✩ ZHONGLI —

almost always wakes before you. this morning is no exception. his erection is full, tenting his silk pajama pants as he pulls up behind you. he doesn't want to disturb your slumber; he knows how tired you've been lately what with planning the wedding and all. by the same token, however, he can smell your sex. you must be ovulating, he correctly deduces. your earthy scent is so full-bodied he can taste it on the back of his tongue and my me, he thinks, is it delectable. before he's even decided what to do, his hand moves on its own. he slips his golden hand beneath the thin waistband of your undergarments, dipping his graceful middle finger between your moist folds. you shift a little, but he removes his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste you. he wraps his lips around his finger and sucks, tongue swirling around his digit to collect as much of your flavor as he can. warm precum leaks from his cock as he moans lowly around his own finger. it nearly drives him to madness and he can't help himself. well, he could, but he's willing to suffer the consequences in exchange for devouring the delicacy that's hiding between your legs. your eyes flutter open to find yourself on your back, your legs spread, zhongli's hair tickling your inner thighs and his long, radiant fingers curling inside you, glowing and fucking your gushy walls as amber eyes burn into yours through his long bangs. his flattened tongue drags over your swollen clit in quick pulses while he basks in your sobs of just how good he feels to you. "fuck, zhongli~~hmnn~~yeah, eat my pussy just like that..." girl, when the geo daddy moans with a mouthful of your pussy, the vibration of his deep voice on your clit hits the richter scale and you come crumbling into his hot mouth.

m.list

i hope you found this as "inspirational" to read as i did to write. i give kitheth to 18+ rebloggers and commenters and followers and likers and readers who otherwise enjoy my naughty musings. mwah!

[sweet-honey-fruit]

Going Feral

Their true forms take over, and they’re needy for you.

Pairs — Childe, Itto, Ei, Zhongli x afab!reader

Note: I know Childe’s isn’t exactly what I said would happen, but I liked the idea of being fucked by foul legacy so much that I plan on making that it’s on fanfic.

Warnings — Rough sex, degradation, praise, restraints, public sex (Childe) belly bulge (Itto and Childe), breeding kink (Itto), unfair power dynamic but it’s all consensual, rough fucking, monster fucking (?), inappropriate use of tail (Zhongli)

!Everything is consensual! 18+ MINORS DNI

Childe

The entirety of his massive body engulfed the fragility of yours. His cock was so, so much bigger, stretching you out to your fullest. His pace was relentless, pinning you down to the floor while his dick dragged along your slick walls. His sharpened claws tangled in your hair as he thrust deeper and deeper inside you. All of it was overwhelming in the most delicious way possible. The sound of skin slapping and your squelching noises filled your ears, the sound so erotic that it caused a puddle to drip below you. The grip on your waist from him was almost painful, but you were so far gone that you barely registered any pain at all. You just wanted more. More of him. He was all you needed, and you loved it. In this form, in the Golden House, right here and right now. You didn’t want anything else other than this.

“Please Childe, it’s too much…” Your words came out slurred and muffled with every breath, drunk off the pleasure the fullness provided. A deep rumbling purr vibrated in Foul Legacy’s chest. It sent a delicious chill down your spine, one that was a mix of fear and excitement. He pulled himself out of you and slammed back into you, harder, rougher. “If you’re going to act like a whore for dick you might as well learn to take it,” His voice reverberated through your body as he was flushed against yours. He practically lifted you off the ground with ease, his groans coming out as growls.

Your body was quivering beneath his own. Tears of bliss streamed down your face as you were turned into a blabbering mess. Broken moans of his name are all that are eligible and it filled him up with pride. Knowing that even in another form he was able to turn you into a desired-filled disaster. To turn you into Ana whimpering, helpless mess. His hand pressed down on the bulge in your stomach. The motion makes you feel all of him at once. You arched your back, gripping onto him the best you can. Your walls clenched around him as burning pleasure took over your body, so much so that you swore your vision turned white for a moment.

The sensation of your walls hugging his cock sent him over the edge. He pushes you back onto the ground and fucks into you faster, the overstimulation making you squirm. With one final thrust, his seed shot into you, dripping back down onto the floor. He leaned down, lifting the mask off his head just enough to give you a sweet kiss on your slightly parted lips. He smiled against them, a smile that you could read as mischievous even in your delirious state. Putting his mask back down, he slammed his cock back into you again. This time slower, savoring each movement.

Ei

Hot, hot, hot. It felt so overwhelmingly hot despite the cool, crisp air of Euthymia. There was an ungodly amount of hands on your flushed body. Not a single part of you is touching the ground below. There is a pair of hands gripping your wrists and ankles, forcing them apart to leave your bare body open and vulnerable. Hands were fondling your chest, brushing over your nipples that elicit even more erotic moans out of you that echoed throughout the sacred chamber. Her form floated just a few feet away, legs crossed and chin resting on the palm of her hand in mockery. Mockery of how vulnerable you are, completely under her influence.

Hands were gripping your thighs, needing the flesh so harshly that it was sure to leave behind bruises. Hands wrapped around your hips and forced you down onto the fingers that were pumping in and out of your sopping wet hole. All these hands yet not one of them belonged to the woman who appeared before you. Her eyes held a fierce intensity of lust, tempting you to look away from her, to close your eyes and fall into the pleasure that she undoubtedly controls. You made the mistake of looking away once, and that left you with a hand-shaped mark on the side of your face from one of her many hand puppets.

“This sight,” Her luring voice surrounds you, enticing you to bring your attention to her. Her hand drops, ghosting over her chest and down her torso. Your eyes follow her movement. A ragged breath slips past your lips when Ei finally uncrosses her legs, revealing her drenched hole. You can see the slickness on her inner thighs from the dim lighting of the realm. "Is truly something I wish to see for eternity."

Her finger slips between her folds, enticing a soft moan out of her. At this moment the hand puppet that was pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace has stopped completely. You whine in frustration, wanting more. More of the white-hot pleasure it was giving you.

"You'll be my puppet, won't you? Be my little plaything.." She slips in another finger, pumping in and out at a slow pace. The hand-puppet mimics her movements, in and out of your own. You lurch forward, a moan forced out of of you and leaving you breathless. Ei’s satisfied smile is prevalent, the squelching sound of her fucking her pussy sending you into a haze.

She sped up, her head tilting back and letting out a moan so divine you wanted to get on your knees and worship her then and there. You couldn’t stop your legs from quivering from the intensity of the sensations you were feeling. You felt as light as a feather, not able to think of anything other than Ei and what she was indirectly doing to you. Not able to think about anything other than how beautiful she looked when she plunged her fingers inside of her, her thumb circling her clit with such precision that it caused your clit to throb with need. No thought didn’t cross your mind that wasn’t related to how good she was making you feel. Your slick dripped onto the ground, so wet that was gliding down your thighs.

The god of eternity molded you into her puppet, which she can control however she wishes. If it meant leaving you shaking, begging for more with her fingers down your throat, soaked with her juices; then you didn’t mind one bit.

Itto

Itto’s horns were bigger, pointier than usual. His nails were razor-sharp, longer. They dug into the dips of your hips, locking you down tight on his face. Your own hands clung to his horns to maintain your balance. With each tug he receives from your iron grip, the more animalistic growls that are muffled by your pussy. He was lapping at your wetness like a starved dog.

“Stop! Too much- too much Itto-“ Your pleas are cut off by a pornographic moan when his overtly long tongue slips between your folds. He pulls you down closer when you try to back away from the overwhelming amount of white-hot pleasure coursing through your body. The way his tongue slips out of your aching hole to swirl around your clit left your back arching and your nails digging into his horns. Your grip only sent him into overdrive.

With a growl that was muffled by your thighs, he lifted you off of his face. You could only catch a glimpse of the gleam from your slick around his mouth before he turned you around and forced you onto your stomach. Your hands gripped the sheets in surprise, even more so when he lifted your hips.

“Too much, huh? Too much, too much.” He laughs, and it sounds borderline maniacal. A chill is shot down your spine at the sound, yet at the same time, it leaves your hole throbbing and aching for more. Begging to be fucked by this new side of him. “I’ll show you too much. I’ll leave my well-behaved whore feeling so good that you won’t even want to stop.”

You feel the tip of his cock press at your entrance. Your legs shook, not only from pleasure but from the fact of how big he felt. Bigger than usual. Itto leans his body over yours, leaving sloppy kisses up your back, leaving marks along your neck, before finally kissing you on the lips with so much force it knocked your head back a little.

“You’re not a whore- I’m just so-so pent up that I can’t think clearly-“

“Itto,” His name was a quiet whine, making him groan, “Shut up and fuck me already,” It didn’t matter how big he was, his unintentional teasing was leaving your walls to clench around nothing. Begging him to fill you up and make you into his fuck toy.

He places a delicate kiss on your shoulder. A sheering pain coursed through you when his fangs punctured the skin to leave a mark behind. It faded into a pleasure that made your eyes roll back, his tongue gliding over it to soothe the pain. Then, he shoved his cock into your body. It was so overly big that it left a noticeable bulge in your stomach.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. His only focus was on fucking you till you couldn’t walk, till you were screaming his name and so full of his cum that it dripped out of your hole. He slammed into you, and your mind immediately went to the clouds. The way his cock dragged along every inch of you had you drooling, hungry and greedy for more of him. His nails ran up your back, leaving goosebumps of anticipation behind.

“Gonna breed you so good..gonna make you mine. Be good for me and take it,” He slammed his cock into you again. You laid limp, letting him use you as he pleased. In turn, your moans filled his ears, only encouraging him to go harder.

Zhongli

As much as Zhongli hides and compresses the godhood within him, that doesn’t make his instincts go away. The dragon in him is still present, albeit with a dull ache in his chest. But during times like these, where someone is very obviously trying to flirt and take you home, the ache in his chest grows. And it feels piercing. And the only way to cure the painful feeling is to show exactly who you belong to. Who owns you. Who loves you unconditionally. Dragons are possessive, don’t you know that? So why did you test your limits and flirt back with the person right in front of his eyes?

“Please Zhongli, I was just trying to get a free drink-“your explanation is cut off by his hand pushing your head deeper into the sheets. His grip on your hair is strong, and you can feel his overly sharp claws lightly digging into your scalp. It hurt, but it made your pussy ache for more; more of him.

His body leans down, chest pressing against your back. You catch a glimpse of a faint glow of yellow, and a mix of fear and excitement course through your hypersensitive body. It’s been so long since he’s let out his true form. And he’s using it on you.

A growl emits from his throat, and it reverberates from his chest to your back. It was animalistic, and it elicited a whimper from you. His body weighed you down, it was so much bigger than yours, stronger, leaving you to feel vulnerable and at his mercy. He loved seeing you this way, under him where he was in control. It made the spark for you within him burn brighter.

A brush of something firm creeps up your inner thighs. You can’t tell what it was but it certainly couldn’t be his hands. Not when one hand is pressing your head down into the pillows and the other is wrapped around your torso, forcing you to stay still. No, it wasn’t his hand. It was thicker, wider. And it teasingly slid between your soaked folds.

His lips ghosted over your jawline, traveling up to just the shell of your ear. You could hear his needy pants, the hand around your torso needs your flesh teasingly as the claws dig into your stomach deliciously.

“Do you think I care what your motive was?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. So deep and dark, something so commanding that it made you stiffen up. You glance back, eyes widening when you catch a glimpse of yellow, slitted eyes; and the tail that was teasing your soaked hole.

“Tell me, my qingxin, since you are so desperate for cock, why must I give it to you, hm?” His tail thrusts inside of your hole, and you mewl over. Your moans are muffled by the pillow, yet they increase in pitch the deeper it goes. It hits your cervix, and you swear you saw stars. Drool pools under your head. He’s slow with his movements, pulling out so gradually, making you feel every detail of his tail dragging against your walls.

His hand in your hair lets go. You barely have a moment to let out a sigh of relief before it’s wrapped around your throat, forcing your body to sit up. Your knees press against the soft sheets, slightly damp from just how much you were dripping. His tail thrust in harder and faster. Moans and slick, slapping sounds echoed around the bedroom. His hand adds pressure, cutting off your noises and leaving you to only roll your eyes back when he hits the perfect spot within you.

“That’s it, fall apart,” He kisses down your neck, his fangs digging into the side of your neck, “Just like that…break for me, show me who owns every part of you.”

[mini-ism]

courtship— 07 KINKTOBER ‘23

words: 815

synopsis: zhongli accepts your proposal, your innocence for a chance to be his spouse.

warnings: mdni!! virginity (reader), taking of virginity, monsterfucking, dragon form, courting, porn with some plot, mentions of marriage, gender neutral reader

zhongli loomed over you menacingly. his shoulders squared and broad, his eyes focused, glowing with sheer strength. you could hear his tail smack the floor a couple times.

your proposal was hard to deny, especially when you were in front of him, your most tender form of all— stripped bare and belly exposed. it was difficult not to think of you as prey, ready and eager to be consumed.

you begged and you pleaded for this chance, you knew the man would soon be courted once more, perhaps by a person lovelier than yourself. you merrily offered zhongli your innocence for a chance to become his spouse, nodding your head along joyfully, willfully dismissing his warnings.

yet there he stood, his gaze focused on you, your legs brought up to your chest, knees bent. you anticipated the answer of his body, the response to your bare form. it tingled and brewed within you, every second heightening your senses, the feeling of eagerness lingering in the air.

with a quick, experienced movement, zhongli pushed himself against you, his thick, large cock pressing against your entrance. awkwardly, you craned your neck to look at his body. his cock was unlike anything you could have imagined. it was big and lengthy, with a knot at the base, and his tip was an inhuman blackish color.

you watched as he tentatively moved his hips to yours, his cock poking and prodding at your hole, eliciting a whine from your lips.

you could feel the round, yet pointed, tip gain entry within you, stretching your hole ever so slightly to allow zhongli inside of you. a loud, breathy mewl left you, the stretching of your entrance and now your walls causing you to whine in pain.

“i warned you.” he said, your mind blurring while he moved in and out of you slowly, losing more of his length inside of you. he put his hands on your hips, thrusting inwards sharply, then pulling out almost all the way, only to fuck into you harder again. he continued this until most of his cock was in you, which took longer than we would have liked.

moans spilled from your mouth, feeling the girth of his dick stretch you out to your limits. the pain slowly ebbed into deep pleasure. you reached for his horns, which he allowed you to hold onto. zhongli kept his slow, yet agonizing pace, his cock dragging in and out of your tight hole. he knew he was in control.

tightening your grip, zhongli drew in a sharp inhale, your thumbs riding on the ridges of the sharp dragon horns atop his head, nestled in his dark brown hair. zhongli’s pace quickened drastically without warning, his hands still planted on your hips. his determined eyes were squinted, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“do you like it? do you like this?” you asked.

“do not ask me such… dumb questions,” he replied, remaining silent for a while, “…yes, i enjoy this.”

you half giggled and half moaned in response. pleasure was building within both of you, and moans were slipping from both of you. mostly you, really. zhongli’s darkened hands moved from your hips to the underside of your thighs. your body was continuously and relentlessly bullied by zhongli’s fat cock, your tight hole straining from his size.

heat pooled in your gut, the sense of trust relaxing your muscles as he carefully, yet ruthlessly, fucked you. zhongli’s tail continued to swish and smack against the floor, nearly wagging uncontrollably as he chased his own high.

“are you close?” he panted.

you nodded, tears stinging your eyes, you could hear skin against skin, and the smell of sex hung in the air. he looked so handsome on top of you, drilling you full of his cock, his hair messier than usual, and his clothes slightly undone. you hoped he’d pick you after this, how he’d pick you to fuck again. to marry. to make you submit to him.

“good.”

the intensity of his thrusts jumped, your hands grabbing at his horns tightly, your hole clenching with his every movement. his grip tightened on your plush, warm thighs, ramming into you as fast as he fucking could.

“ah, ah, i’ll come soon. mmh,” zhongli could only muster as much of a warning as that before you came. your body tightened and you moaned loudly, your hips bucking wildly, hole tight as a vice around his cock. a sense of heavy relief and intense pleasure washed over you, your brain foggy and thoughts awry.

“zhongli, i- mmgh! oh, oh, fuck… fuuuuck…”

you watched as zhongli fucked into you one last time, pulling out as seed spilled onto your tummy, thick white globs leaking from his pointed tip. he looked at you determinedly, ready to pursue you deeper than this fuck.

and when the day came, the dragon approached you.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#93 Beautiful-

Childe: Wow, the stars are beautiful tonight!~

Zhongli: Yeah, they are

Childe: You know who else is beautiful?

Zhongli: Y/n?

Childe: Exactly

[watatsumiis]

On The Topic of Dragon Hoards...

Zhongli, no matter how convincingly he may wear his human disguise, is and always has been a dragon at heart.

And he, like most dragons, has a tendency to hoard things.

It's easy not to notice right away, since he tends to keep his belongings tucked away, but once you take note, it's hard to stop seeing them.

Primarily, it's sentimental items, things that have been made for him or gifted to him by those he loves, but once you two have been together a while, you notice that he is definitely giving your gifts preferential treatment.

If you were to look carefully, you'd notice that he's carefully preserved everything you've given him, from letters to meaningless little trinkets, even a scrap piece of paper you drew a diagram on to help get a point across over lunch.

A dragon will hoard things that they deem to be precious and valuable - in this case, the items are all extraordinarily memorable to Zhongli, tied in with the stories of those he cares about. Over time, he adds more and more items relating to you, it's a little sweet, really.

However, if you were to ask Zhongli what the most valuable item in his hoard is, he'll give you a warm, fanged smile and say something along the lines of "Why, it's you, of course, my dear."

[zhxngii]

⟣┄─ ˑ 〃Boyfriends in their half-dragon forms using their tails to wrap around you whether that's when cuddling or pinning you down. Wrapping around your leg to keep you spread open for them, around your midsection as you ride them. their nails and fangs leaving visible marks on your soft skin as you work to bring you both to your climaxes.

[admiringlove]

falling stars. the sixth part of @angstober is here! i really loved writing this one, ugh. anyways, happy reading <3 masterlist of the event can be found here.

being immortal was both a blessing and a curse.

zhongli had always been the god of contracts. it was the essence of his existence, a purpose etched into the very marrow of his being. he wasn’t always the composed, reserved man who carried the weight of centuries with quiet dignity, his gaze heavy with the nostalgia of eras long past. no, once, he had been sharp and unyielding—a man who lived and breathed duty. his loyalty to liyue was unshakable. liyue came first. always.

duty was his creed, his unwavering religion. the god of stone and earth, as immovable as the mountains he shaped. whenever his focus wavered, that mantra echoed in his mind: liyue comes first. duty comes first. it was an unrelenting rhythm that kept his soul in check.

but then, somehow, you happened.

you were the anomaly, the gentle rain that smoothed his jagged edges. he never quite understood how you slipped past the walls he’d spent millennia building. the god of contracts, once as steadfast as the stone he commanded, found himself softened—worn down not by time but by your presence. you were like the tide, subtle yet persistent, shaping him with a patience he didn’t know could exist. his rigid mountains melted into quiet hills, his soul drenched in the warmth of your laughter, the soft glow of fireworks, and a nostalgia he had never allowed himself to feel.

and now, for the first time, zhongli questioned where duty ended and where you began. you weren’t just a fleeting moment in his never-ending timeline. no, you were something far greater. you held his entire existence in your hands, like magic woven into your fingertips. you weren’t just his past—you were his present, his future, everything all at once.

and he hates that he’s slowly forgetting you. hates that he's still here, living, while it’s been eons since he last heard your voice, since the scent of you clung to his memory.

your scent. it was the first to fade, slipping through his grasp as the years stretched on. he remembers fragments—how you always smelled of the river, like the waters of qingce village clung to you. you loved the water, always said it felt like home. he’d once joked that you should have been born in fontaine, where the tides ruled, but you loved him long before you knew who he truly was.

you loved your god, and your devotion to rex lapis was so pure, so sacred, that it unsettled even him. most revered him with fear, with trembling awe, but you—no, you loved him as effortlessly as breathing. it's how he'd found you, standing before his statue, lighting incense in the stillness of prayer. he approached as zhongli, hands behind his back, watching as you offered your quiet supplications.

"did you know he's the eldest of the seven?" he murmured, his gaze lifting to the likeness of himself carved in stone. there was something serene in your posture, a calmness that baffled him. most would pray with reverence or dread, but you. you smiled softly as you waved the incense in the air, placing it at the statue’s base.

"everyone knows he's the eldest," you replied, casting him a sideways glance, "but most people don’t realize that barbatos is the second eldest."

zhongli blinked, a flicker of surprise playing at his lips. it was true—his old friend, the carefree anemo god, was the second oldest, though few knew this because of barbatos’ lighthearted demeanor.

"you seem well-versed in the ways of the gods," he remarked, curiosity piqued as he watched you. you chuckled, the sound light and warm. "my father’s a priest. i suppose that’s why. but i think rex lapis is different from the others."

zhongli’s interest deepened. he tilted his head. "how so?"

"you’ll laugh if i tell you," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips before you looked back at the statue, "but i think he’s a romantic. being the eldest must come with so much responsibility. i imagine he’s tired, weary from the weight of it all. from all of us."

zhongli frowned, something in your words striking a strange chord within him. "but that is his duty, is it not?" he asked, his brow furrowing, unsettled by the way your insight crawled beneath his skin.

you simply shook your head, smiling to yourself. "duty and purpose don’t always align, you know. rex lapis is a magnificent god, strong and wise. but i like to think he’s also present in the small moments, like an old friend. sometimes, i talk to him about my day."

zhongli’s gaze sharpened, a mix of amusement and suspicion in his eyes. "do you now?" he asked, voice low. "then perhaps he’s listening."

"if only," you laughed softly, the sound like wind brushing through leaves. "gods are mysterious creatures. i doubt they have the time to listen to a priest’s child ramble on about their mundane life."

if only you had known how closely he listened, how deeply your words had taken root within him, like seeds planted in the fertile soil of his heart. you were like water—gentle yet unyielding—flowing into the spaces between his thoughts, shaping him without him even realizing. after that day, you became something he could never quite shake, lingering like the soft glow of a lantern after dark—an ever-present warmth, like coming home after centuries spent wandering.

he finds you again, unexpectedly, sitting alone by the harbor in liyue city. there’s a heaviness to your expression, your brow furrowed as your eyes gaze out at the endless stretch of the sea, as if seeking solace in its waves. the wind tugs at your hair, carrying the salt of the ocean in the air, and you sigh—a quiet, resigned sound that makes something tighten in his chest. he watches you for a moment longer before making his way toward you.

"it’s you," he murmurs, his voice soft as the breeze, "from qingce village."

your head lifts slowly, and at first, your gaze holds no recognition, dulled by the weight of your troubles. but then, your eyes widen, lighting up with sudden relief. "you! by rex lapis, am i glad to see you."

his amber eyes, with their distinct diamond-shaped pupils, flicker in surprise. he hadn’t expected that reaction. you press on, your words tumbling out with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "this city is impossible. my father sent me here to assist a doctor with medicinal herbs, but i’m completely lost. and not one statue of morax inside the city! not one! where am i supposed to go every morning to pray?"

a small chuckle escapes him, low and warm, and he tilts his head slightly. "that is true. the nearest statue is just beyond the city’s borders, but it can be a dangerous journey. perhaps... you could join me for tea each morning instead. madame ping brews the finest oolong, and we often sit together in the high grounds before i start my day. you might even find your doctor there."

"really?" your face lights up, like the skies of liyue igniting during lantern rite, a spark of hope rekindled in your eyes. "you’d do that for me? include me in your routine, even though you barely know me?"

he smiles softly, settling onto the bench beside you. "you’re fond of rex lapis, aren’t you? so is madame ping. and so am i. i believe you’d make for good company."

"that’s... incredibly kind of you," you murmur, fingers loosening their tight grip on the straps of your bag, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice. "i never got your name, though."

he turns to face you, his gaze steady, the sunlight catching the red liner beneath his amber eyes, making them glow with a soft, almost ethereal light. "zhongli," he replies, watching you carefully, as though gauging your reaction.

you take in a slow breath, your eyes widening slightly as you look at him, something shifting in the air between you, fragile and significant all at once. "you know," you say, your voice a little softer now, "zhongli, you have a very familiar face."

he chuckles, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the quiet of the harbor. "do i, now?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

and so, the friendship between you and, unbeknownst to you, rex lapis began. you spoke of him in the way a devout follower might speak of their deity, yet with a warmth, a familiarity, that zhongli couldn’t quite grasp. it was as if, in your heart, rex lapis was not a distant god ruling from on high, but a cherished friend; someone you could confide in without fear. and that comforted him in a way nothing else had. for once, someone revered him not out of awe or terror, but out of love. someone placed rex lapis on a pedestal for reasons beyond his power, beyond his duty. simply because they cared for him, deeply, genuinely.

perhaps that was why fate had woven your paths together. to teach him that he was more than his role, more than the weight of his eternal duty. to remind him that his purpose did not need to be solely bound to protecting liyue until the end of time. there could be more—there was more.

"i don’t think i can love anyone as much as i love the god of geo," you once confessed, after finally mastering the confusing streets of liyue harbor. the two of you were descending the stone steps after your usual morning tea with auntie ping—though now, you had grown fond enough of her to call her that. zhongli’s brow raised at your words, his steps slowing to match your pace, for you were always a little slower, always taking your time. "what do you mean by that?"

"i don’t know," you sighed, your gaze flickering to the distant horizon, "i have this... strange relationship with rex lapis. i love him. i idolize him. i think of him as an old friend, someone i can share my burdens with. but i also feel that... if someone were to love me, it would be hard for me to return the same intensity. i think it would pale in comparison to the way i love him." your voice trailed off, quieter, more uncertain. "it’s strange. like i said, a strange feeling to have. i don’t even know why i’m telling you this."

zhongli’s eyes softened as he watched you, his lips curving into a gentle, knowing smile. "i believe the word you’re searching for is sacred," he said quietly.

you blinked, surprised by his response, and for a brief moment, you narrowed your eyes at him as if trying to figure something out. because that familiar feeling tugged at you again—like a jigsaw falling into place, though you couldn’t quite see the whole picture yet. the way he smiled at you, the way he seemed to understand. it made your heart skip, just a little.

and, without realizing it, you began to favor a certain funeral parlor consultant over the god you once idolized.

he made you smile wider than you ever had, more than you ever did for rex lapis. zhongli had quietly woven himself into the fabric of your life, so seamlessly that it left you baffled, wondering when it all began. your days started to revolve around him—sometimes even your nights. he would tell you stories of liyue’s ancient history as if he had witnessed every moment himself, painting vivid pictures of a time long past. it left you in awe, admiring him more with every tale, until the realization struck like a wave crashing against the shore.

you had come to love zhongli more than rex lapis.

the thought gripped you with quiet terror. the way his eyes would crinkle with a knowing smile, the way his soft chuckles echoed in the silence after you mentioned your god—it all made your heart stumble, beat after beat. he was hiding something, you knew it. and it wasn’t just you who noticed. even auntie ping, with her ageless wisdom, seemed in on the secret. zhongli had once called her an old friend, but just how old, you couldn’t quite tell.

"how did you meet auntie ping?" you asked one evening, crossing the bridge near the funeral parlor, heading towards dinner. he paused, a flicker of hesitation passing through his amber eyes. "i don’t quite remember anymore," he said quietly, "we’ve simply been friends for a very long time. there was another once, but... she’s gone now. her name was guizhong."

"was she beautiful?" the question left your lips before you could stop yourself. "was she clever?"

his soft laugh carried through the evening air. "immensely," he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "we miss her, every now and then."

"did she..." your voice faltered as you stopped in your tracks. "did she pass away?"

he nodded, a touch of sadness lingering in his expression before he resumed walking. you remained rooted in place, pieces of a larger puzzle scattering through your mind. but it was as if your thoughts grew foggy whenever you were near him—like familiarity slipping through your fingers, just beyond reach. zhongli glanced back at you, tilting his head ever so slightly. "aren’t you coming?"

you murmured a soft “yes” and quickened your steps to catch up, brushing away the weight of your thoughts. "how did morax befriend cloud retainer?" you asked, steering the conversation back to familiar ground. he seemed to know so much more about your god than even your father, things lost to time.

and with every answer he gave, you found yourself more bewildered than before.

your curiosity always brought a quiet joy to zhongli, a chance for him to indulge in your questions, your wonder. at first, he thought nothing of it, simply an opportunity to share the knowledge he had gathered over centuries. but slowly, he found himself captivated, drawn to you in ways that puzzled even him. he started accompanying you outside the city, watching you in silence as you lit incense and knelt before the statue of rex lapis. but today, something was different. your expression had shifted, lips set in a thin, guilty line. like a river running cold, your posture stiffened as if weighed by an unspoken burden.

"is something troubling you?" his voice was gentle, though there was a faint edge of concern as he watched you stare up at the stone likeness of the god. you blinked, shaken from your daze, shaking your head with a quiet denial. but zhongli had known you long enough to see through the facade. "you’re different today. while you pray."

your throat tightened, words tangling within you. how could you admit that the man beside you, the one you’d come to know for mere months, had taken up more space in your heart than the god you had worshipped all your life? it was a storm within you, like water crashing through the valleys of your soul, eroding the bedrock of belief you had built.

"i can’t tell you," you murmured, turning your back to him. "this is between me and rex lapis."

"am i not your friend?" his voice was soft, almost too soft. "am i not as close to you as rex lapis is?"

he faltered then, realizing the weight of his words. what had he just revealed? he hoped the slip of his tongue wouldn’t shatter the delicate line he had walked all this time. you were clever—more clever than anyone he’d known—but perhaps your heart would refuse to see the truth.

yet why had he even said it? he was rex lapis, wasn’t he? so why did it matter that zhongli, the mortal, had become more important to you than the god? why did he feel envy, for his own self?

"you are not him," you whispered, a note of disturbance in your voice. "you are mortal. he is my god."

"he is your friend," zhongli replied quietly, searching your face, "and so am i. if something troubles you, something that disturbs your prayer, why not tell me? i don’t want to see you unhappy like this."

"i can’t," you insisted, your shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "why don’t you understand-"

"but why not?"

"because i’m in love with you!" the words bursted from you, raw and trembling in the space between you both. your voice did not crack with tears, but the defeat in your eyes spoke of an agony deeper than tears could show. "and you’ve taken up more space in my life than my god. and that... that breaks me."

the confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, as if the world itself had stilled in the wake of your words.

"oh," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "i am sorry."

he watched as your face twisted in thought, a realization settling behind your eyes, something heavy and final. "i know," you murmured, turning away, your voice distant. "we should head back into the city before it gets dark."

"wait, i must tell you-"

"no, zhongli." you shook your head, your defeat palpable. "i know you don’t feel the same. it’s alright. i shouldn’t feel this way either. i’m supposed to love him more."

"but i do feel the same," he said, his voice suddenly firm, cutting through your words with a softness that startled you. "i feel the same, so why shouldn’t you?"

your mind went blank. his words left you utterly speechless, like the world had tipped sideways. you blinked up at him, confusion written across your furrowed brows, eyes glassy as you struggled to make sense of what he had just said. it felt almost sacrilegious. zhongli stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder with the familiarity of an old friend. "it is why i want to spend every moment of my life with you. why i want you to stay by my side until my last breath. is that not fair?"

you stared at him, blinking rapidly, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. how could this be real? how could the man who had become your constant, your guide, feel the same way you did? he spoke again, his voice steady and warm, as though wrapping you in a promise. "if you love morax so much, then let’s draw a contract between us. that you will love me with the same intensity as you love him. and in return, i’ll help you love him more. i will tell you stories about him, i will show you more of liyue harbor, i will take you to the temples, and pray alongside you until your last breath—if that is what keeps you content."

his words washed over you like a tide, a promise carved from stone and time. you felt the weight of it, the gravity of his offer. this man, this mortal, who had unknowingly become the center of your world, was offering himself wholly to you—not in opposition to the god you revered, but alongside him, like two halves of the same whole. it was a contract, a binding of hearts, one that felt as sacred as the prayers you had once whispered at the foot of the statue.

and so another chapter of zhongli’s infinitely long life began. but you were not infinite—you were fleeting, a moment in time that would fade. you aged like the finest wines of mondstadt, while he remained the same: tall, revered, handsome. your hair greyed, lines formed at the corners of your eyes, and soon, you grew older than auntie ping. and then, just like that, you were gone.

the scent of you vanished with the passing breeze, the smell of the rivers from qingce village where you grew up, the fragrance of old history books you lovingly stored, cleaned, and kept in your home. all of it—gone.

but zhongli remembers. he remembers every lantern rite spent by your side, watching the fireworks burst in the sky, but always, always watching you instead. the way your eyes lit up in awe at the colors that painted the night sky—he treasures it more than any celebration. and even after you were gone, liyue continued to bustle, unchanged. and zhongli stayed the same.

he lived on, because immortality was both a blessing and a curse. every year, he would stand on the high grounds, watching the fireworks bloom in the heavens with a weight in his chest that only grew heavier with time. and every year, he thought of you—your boundless curiosity, your devotion that never wavered.

he remembers the day he found your letter, tucked away like a relic, jagged edges and all. the curiosity that once led you to him now led him to unfold that paper with trembling hands. your words were simple, but they cut deep.

you had told him to live a long life—how ironic. as if he could do anything but. to eat well, as if you were still there, cooking for him each morning and night. to drink tea with ping, because you knew the weight of his loneliness. and you told him you loved him, as if he didn't already know, as if he couldn’t feel it in the way you breathed life into everything around you.

and then, what struck him most, what lingered in the back of his mind even after centuries passed, was how you signed it.

"thank you for everything, rex lapis. i leave you with love."

it was the last thing he had from you, and yet it was more than enough to keep your memory alive—because in the end, you had known. you had always known.

in his long life, he had done countless great things, and shall do countless more still. as they say: the waters change course, but the mountains move not.

so zhongli continues to live. carrying your love with him like an echo in his heart, as eternal as he was.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[mayaree-darling]

history in the making // rex lapis (zhongli)

from aree: inspired by the latest collab genshin has with the Sanxingdui Museum (and the trailer for said event). (Slightly SAGAU just bcoz but can be read as a normal Reverse Isekai AU)

You're a security guard for the museum and you're out on your regular patrol for the night. All is quiet save for the tapping of your shoes on the marble floors and the jingle of keys hanging from your belt.

When you round the corner, you flinch. There's a man standing there, barefooted, just staring at the museum displays with curiosity. You accidentaly shine your light on him, unconsciously trying to get a better look at him and he turns to you.

Something about him was definitely off. He was wearing some kind of hooded robe. And... gloves? What else could they be? They reached from his shoulders to the very tips of his fingers, making his arms look brown like the very earth. Whatever gloves those were, they ran with veins of gold, making him glow under the museum darkness. But above all else, the most damning piece of evidence that he wasn't from around here were his golden eyes that almost seemed to glow brighter than the gold of his arms.

He definitely did not look like he belonged here, and yet, he looked like he was right at home in this very museum - if you said he was as ancient as the very displays, it felt like you'd be correct.

"You're not supposed to be around here right now." You say dumbly. What else were you supposed to say anyway? You're a security guard in a museum, your sole job was to kick people out past visiting hours.

His mouth ticks up at the corners, like you just said something funny. You would be offended at the thought of not being taken seriously while on the job, if you didn't think he suddenly looked more... human. The deadpan stare he had on earlier made him look too statuesque, too detached from everything.

"Then what say you would be the most apt time to pay a visit?" His voice is deep and melodious, almost intimidating if not for the playful lilt to his tone.

"Uh, 8:30 AM to 6 PM?" You rub the back of your neck, directing the flashlight to the museum entrance. The doors were firmly closed and locked. You can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye. "How did you even get in here...?"

He seems to think about your words, closing his eyes in thought. Without the glow of his eyes, you notice even the tips of his hair are golden. Maybe some kind of cosplayer? But by the looks of it, he seemed to move around too comfortable in his attire for it not to be every day wear. And his eyes didn't look like contact lenses. Finally, he opened his eyes, a mischievous glint to them.

"If I were to say I have arrived here through a dream, would you believe me?" His mouth forms a small smile and you blink at him.

"Guess you don't plan on telling me the truth," You sigh. "Fine then."

You tentatively touch the two-way radio on your belt. Should you call this in? Some guy in cosplay just found his way in and has no plans on telling you how he got here. You think you should tell someone. But...

"You are from here, correct?" He asks and you turn to him immediately. He really has a way of getting people's attention, especially with his voice. You nod at him. "Then might I ask you to tell me of what these statues mean?"

Huh. Now that you thought about it, he was looking at the displays when you first saw him, too. Maybe he'll cooperate easily with you if you tell him a couple of things about the museum. You should really tell someone, but at the same time-

You feel like the moment you tell someone else, he'd disappear from your view. You must be going mad.

"Follow me, then." You're no tour guide, but you do know of the things they speak of. So you repeat what you hear during the day.

You tell the golden-eyed man about the remains of the ancient Shu Kingdom four thousand years ago. You tell him of 50,000 artifacts unearthed in the ruins. He asks questions about the Bronze Age, of their masks and artworks, and you answer best you can while reading the displays.

Finally, you reach a corner where the fire exit is. He stops beside you.

"Sorry about this. But not gonna lie, I've let you stay long enough," you sigh.

He shakes his head and smiles softly. "You have done more than enough. I thank you for letting me see your world."

Your world? Odd choice of words. But if he really wasn't from here, then you guess in a sense this is a bit of your world.

"Just go past these doors and they'll lead you straight out the building. Do I need to escort you out?" He shakes his head and you open the door for him.

He passes through, but stops just before passing you. "May we meet again, Overseer."

"That's not really my name. Also I hope you wouldn't come back like this." You tell him your name, but he merely whispers it and smiles. "Oh, right, I forgot to ask yours."

He opens his mouth before closing it and shaking his head. "I fear that if I tell you my name, we will never see each other again. As such, I promise to tell you the next time we meet."

This guy gets weirder by the minute, but atleast your meeting was ending. "Just make sure to come back during visiting hours, alright? I don't wanna lose my job."

You close the door behind him, but just as you do, smoke and golden light slips past the cracks of the door. With a yelp, you throw the door open, expecting a fire, but there's nothing.

No robed man, no fire. Just the remains of a mist.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were dreaming.

You think it's a dream. Not until by the next night, you find the same man. Same golden eyes, in armor of brown and gold.

He looks to you and offers another smile.

And he tells you his name.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[writerofjourneys]

𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

A/N: Thought I’d finally write for Genshin after getting into it. Though honestly Zhongli was what first caught my attention after the game grew popular a few years back before I really took interest. Now I’m a fan.

Fandom(s): Genshin Impact

Zhongli|Morax/Rex Lapis x Fem Reader

Summary: In the past, Zhongli never would have thought he’d get to have this experience throughout all his time walking the lands of Teyvat. Of his past sins but also merits, he thought nothing could truly be novel to him anymore. Until he fell in love with you, and the life he got to now have with you after giving away his Gnosis. And he didn’t regret it a single bit.

Drabble

Content: Fluff, romance, established relationship, marriage, married life, domesticity, comfort, post Liyue Archon Quest, soft Zhongli, married Zhongli/Reader, retired/former Archon Zhongli, suggestive themes at the end.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 | AO3

In the past, Zhongli never would have thought he’d get to have this experience throughout all his time walking the lands of Teyvat. Of his past sins but also merits, he thought nothing could truly be novel to him anymore.

Until he fell in love with you, and the life he got to now have with you after giving away his Gnosis. And if he had to do it all over again or was offered a return to his archon days, he’d unwaveringly decline. As nothing would amount to being your lover and now, your husband. Where his first priority above everything else was you.

Like currently, as Zhongli returned home from his work. Done with meetings with clients, filling paperwork, or Hu Tao’s antics. He gets to come to a home shared with you, where the lights are already on and the kitchen being used for dinner to be served.

And while this doesn’t happen every day, your routines changing once in a while where your schedules don’t always align in your different jobs. It doesn’t diminish the fluttering and swelling feeling in the former archon’s chest when he gets to have you like this. Something so sweetly intimate and domestic, a word he’s now grown quite acquainted with. For a dragon, this was his nest, a cave where the most precious things he kept safe were here, such as your shared moments together.

“Welcome home, Li!” you smile serenely at him as you turn around from attending the working stove.

“Hello, my love.” Zhongli’s gold eyes soften as a gentle smile of his own reaches his lips.

Especially when you meet him once he enters the kitchen, wrapping your arms together in an embrace. Pressing your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat despite his layers of clothes, your husband lays a kiss to your head. A light sound of a purr rumbled from him, leaving a tiny giggle to escape you at the sound. You can just imagine his hybrid form’s tail swaying around as he does so as he hugged your waist.

“Hungry yet?” you ask as you turn to look up at him, but not pulling away. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Yes, I am.” he nods. “Your cooking smells as lovely as ever.”

A light blush spreads across your cheeks at his compliment. A man of words, your husband was, and how skilled he was at it when praising you to the sky. Your habit of being flustered by his attention like a new bride never faded. Something Zhongli found incredibly endearing.

Moving on your tiptoes, you kiss his chin, earning a chuckle from him. Raising his hand to cup your cheek, bringing you forward to properly kiss you. Slowly moving your lips together in sync, the action was sensual and all consuming. It took a few minutes for you to break apart. Admiring each other from close proximity.

“I could never miss out any chance to dine with my wife, after all.” says Zhongli as he grasps your left hand to lay another kiss to your knuckles. Where your wedding and engagement rings were worn. A beautiful gem of Cor Lapis shining under the lights, matching the color of your husband’s affectionate gaze. His left thumb rubbing the backs of your fingers as his own ring twinkled.

“Okay, I’ll let you wash up then.” you reply, giving him another squeeze in your hug before turning back to the meal you’ve been preparing.

“Though, beloved,” Zhongli says as he sheds his blazer off, keeping his wedding ring his bare skin after taking his gloves and thumb rings off.

“Hmm?” you tilt your head back to him, listening in curiosity.

“Please do keep some room for desert. I would like to have it later.”

Your face emitted a dark red flush, heart fluttering at the look on Zhongli’s face as he eyes you with intensity. Like a beast watching his prey, yet an admirer appreciating an artwork.

Gold irises glowed as he stared back up from observing your body to your visage, his left hand on his chin, the right supporting it with it crossed over his chest. A smirk now dawning his face. Playful, sultry.

‘Oh…’ you thought, knees almost trembling. This was definitely going to become a long night.