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nyursi · 10 months ago

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𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐑!ㅤpart one.

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)... in a series of successful heists, the infamous cat burglar is finally caught and is left with the mercy of his victims to decide his fate.ㅤ��ㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤdiluc, zhongli, heizou, (here, part one) alhaitham, dottore, and wriothesley (part two)!

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, degradation, tummy bulge, biting, breeding, impact play, petnames, hair-pulling, public sex, and more.

ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE DARK NIGHT HERO'S NEW QUOTA...

featuring impact play, hair pulling, exhibitionism, (semi) public sex, and diluc.

killing slimes and dealing with drunkards both day and night quickly became a boring routine for diluc. but he finds such creatures easier to deal with more than a certian eye-patch wearing man.

so when he hears of the burglar who causes trouble nation after nation, finally arrived in mondstadt, diluc can't deny his curiosity.

the name he made for himself was quite odd, never actually thinking a cat burglar would come to life. but life has its ways. and in the nature of life, it's only normal to take hold of this situation. diluc deserves a break anyway.

and now here he is; thrusting relentlessy into the warm heat of the damned 'cat burglar' who attempted to rob him. wanton whines of different octaves escaped your drooling lips, and claws extracted to find purchase on the cobble walls of diluc's manor.

"dumb boy, who were you trying to fool?" your sensitive ears twitched when diluc spoke so close—even more when he grazed his teeth light as a feather against them. "n- no one!" you whined, wiggling your hips.

a tip too tempting to ignore was given to you a while back, claiming that the house ragnvindr had riches to spare for little ol' you. too bad that mister diluc had a tip himself, though much more eye catching and valueable. as half of the mondstadt ladies would fume with jealousy, wishing it was them being split apart by diluc's cock. and not some nimble cat eared boy.

your eyes welled with tears when a stern hand yanked on the hair from your scalp, eliciting a humiliating moan.

god, everything about him is so... big!

from diluc's reputation, wealth, to his physical attributes, diluc as a whole was domineering.

cheeks flushed an embarassing red when your eyes met his, and your tail swished out of your control. "pl- please... 'm close!" such desperate pleads fell on deaf ears, as diluc had no intention to listen to your words.

he counted mentally, giving you time to shut up. and when you didn't stop your dumb begging?

"ahn!~" your eyes widened when a harsh smack landed on your ass, causing your whole body to jolt forward. diluc took ahold of your temporary weakness, and forced your chest to meet the cold stone wall.

with your hard nipples and swollen cock rubbing on such an odd texture, the pleasure of it all caused you to near an orgasm. "you moan so sweetly," diluc grunted, planting his hands on your hips roughly.

"it could compete with the grapes in this yard."

oh yes. was it too embarassing to mention that you never managed to sneak in his manor at all? what was a stupid kitty like you doing anyway, wearing a suspicious cloak and prowling about diluc's courtyard.

he seized you then and there.

it's too bad a 'skilled' burglar like you was caught before your plan was in action.

"but unless you want to get caught, i suggest you tone it down." your eyes fogged with lust as diluc shoved his fingers down your throat, coating them with your saliva.

then you came. harshly. your cum splat against the wall, and rubbed against your skin as diluc went faster. course, your little cock was still between your body and the stone, forcing you to take the pleasure that hurt.

diluc soon followed, covering your insides with a creamy white, one that you wanted inside you forever.

one thing you knew now; no money in diluc's manor would ever compare to the treasure below his belt.

ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

RE-AWAKENING OF THE GEO ARCHON...

featuring biting, breeding, double penetration, frottage(?), and zhongli (but morax).

it was no secret that the geo archon was the scariest of all. but with his charming looks, you somehow thought a similar personality would follow.

oh how wrong you were.

"please morax, have mercy on me!" you landed on your knees, body quivering as you felt morax's cold stare upon you.

he tsked, shaking his head. "weak mortals like you shouldn't be making the decision here." morax cooed at you with pity, running his rough palms over the top of your head.

an accident it was, really. for you to stumble upon his abode—and bask your greedy eyes to the glory of his shining hoarde. a large pile of gold and other trinkets was enough for you to trudge forward and grab an armful of wealth.

with your mind focused on the heavy riches you were carrying, your feline ears couldn't hear the heavy footsteps of this hoard's owner.

you were one of the unlucky few, as this den was ruled by the geo archon himself. morax.

"are you defective? surely these little ears of yours are much more sensitive than that of a humans." he mused, eyeing your trembling body.

an uncontrolled whimper broke your silence. morax was scary, definitely! but he was far too mean for your liking. but you had no choice other than to pray that he would forgive you.

"well," he started. anticipation built every second, and you were hung on his every word. "there is one way you could repent."

and here you were; laid limp in his arms. boneless as you eyed his large dicks, both erect and leaking. rubbing against your hole. you attempted to look away, but morax quickly took ahold of your jaw. "don't look away, this is your own doing, boy."

morax nipped on your ear, making you yelp. "oh don't whine, that was nothing compared to this."

in a split second, one had slid in entirely, leaving not a single inch uncovered. he was buried to the hilt. and you were full. morax wasted no time and quickly began to find rhythm, while you haven't even adjusted to his size.

"a-ah! wait please!-" it was an odd yet pleasing sensation, morax's cock rubbed against places you've never touched before, making you see celestia. "m-moraaaaaaax!~"

uncontrollable tears dripped down your red cheeks when his other dick was forced against yours. he wrapped his hand against both, and began moving it up and down. squeezing your heats within his palm.

the size difference between you two made him laugh; saying something about 'it barely counted as a cock, and how it resembles a pathetic pussy instead.'

your hips twitched, mind reeling. mouth wide open yet no sound escaped when you felt air breeze on your leaking tip once again, as well as the similar pressure against your hole.

morax bit your shoulder, and at the same time he sunk you down on both of his cocks. "i knew it, a boy like you was made for this."

he plowed upwards and his hands brought you downwards, kissing your prostate in a harsh and quick manner, like he wanted you to orgasm quickly. "gh!- gonna... gonna cum!"

eyes squeezed shut and toes curled, cum spurted out and landed on your face. but morax didn't stop. not until he fucked you full.

"you're gonna be a pretty kitty knocked up," he said, taking an arm beneath your knees and forcing them to your ears. "pregnant with my eggs."

"i'll breed you again and again," morax grunted, in a final thrust his cum quickly flooded your insides. "until you learn not to steal."

it's a shame you can't get pregnant. but no worries, morax will make you feel like you could!

ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

A DETECTIVE'S LUCKY LEAD...

featuring orgasm denial/ruined orgasm, dry humping, face fucking, and heizou.

you were a bit too confident in your abilities. it's not your fault! all of your previous heists were succesful, but it did make you believe you were untouchable.

so you didn't think twice sending a hint of your location to inazumas detective. not like he was gonna find you anyway.

that's what you believed.

and how wrong you were.

"what? didn't think i'd believe your little trick? with a slimy cat like you as my target, i have to take every given opportunity." heizou sighed, as if he was disappointed in you.

currently, he had you pinned with your back to the wall of some random abandoned building.

"you really had me stressed, you know? what do you have to say for yourself, kitty?" he looked into your eyes, smirking when you couldn't answer.

you were ashamed. even more so when shikanonin had begun to grind against you, your clothed cocks twitching with pleasure from the friction. "mmngh..." your eyes averted to the ground.

heizou grabbed you by the thighs, bringing you up. in a quick reaction, you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist. this allowed him to grind i to you harsher, hips moving in a tandem. "i can feel a wet patch down there, what a slut you are. i bet you dreamed of getting caught!"

"no! i-i didn't!" you shook your head violently, tearing up from both his mean words and thrusting. to prevent any moans to leak out—you bit your lip.

with every second that passed by, your erection quickly fought against the tightness of your pants. "aww, you're hard?" heizou cooed, flicking the tip of your cock.

"ahn!~" you flinched when he continued his assault on your dick, non-stop flicking and slapping, causing your back to arch from the wall. "he-heizoou! nooo!" mindless babbles with tears in your eyes from the painful pleasure, a shiver of pleasure ran down your spine.

but as quick as that feeling came, it quickly went as well. you were left heaving from the ruined orgasm, tail curling around heizou's arm.

"stop whining, naughty cat burglars like you don't deserve to cum." you heard the sound of a zipper being undone, as well as fabric falling to the floor. "but if you're really thaaat desperate,"

he paused.

the detective grabbed the top of your head, and forced your face against his bulge. "then suck, like a good kitty."

with a determined fevor— you suckled on the delicious bulge through his boxers. soon taking his hung cock out, and wasting no time taking it into your mouth.

you slurped, and hollowed out your cheeks, using your tongue to trace every vein down heizou's impressive shaft. but he was too big. you had barely taken in half of it! and that wouldn't do.

"you really are useless, aren't you?" heizou sighed and took matters into his own hands (literally.) he grabbed the back of your head, and pushed his hips forward. making you swallow the whole thing.

"mngh!" the both of you grunted, heizou sighed out in pleasure, feeling his cock head reach the back of your throat.

the waterworks flooded when he began to thrust in and out. you felt the heaviness of his dick on your tongue everytime he moved, and archons was it amazing. hearing heizou moan and even whimper because of your mouth sent butterflies to your stomach, and you wanted more.

so despite the trouble you had breathing, you pushed on to bring the detective to his orgasm.

work hard to get the delicious, savory, creamy, and rich milk from heizou! it'll cure your sore throat right away.

vanillaclaws 2024.ㅤdo not repost.

#diluc smut #diluc x male reader #zhongli smut #zhongli x male reader #heizou smut #heizou x male reader #bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #sub reader #bottom reader #male reader smut #っω=`)ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤmy works...#( ୨୧‎ )ㅤcat burglar!

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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months ago

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My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best.

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

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sleep-0-deprived · 1 year ago

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Because I’m pretty when I cry

Men that worship your body like it’s a temple and praise every little thing you do like it’s the best in the world.

Men that are infatuated with your scent touch and your taste to the point it’s all they think about.

Men that love seeing you all dressed up just to make you ruin your clothes from the endless orgasms.

Men that crave to be close to you and are very touch starved and get clingy without knowing it.

Men that take you out on dates to show you off to the world and love it when you get close to them

Men that buy you things because in their eyes “you deserve it”

Men that only like to have deep intimate sex with you because it’s the most meaningful.

Men that make out with you while they palm the growing bulge in your pants and grind you down on their dick.

Men that love leaving hickys and bite marks on your thighs and neck to show you are theirs.

— Nuevillette, Zhongli, Itachi, Kakashi, Giyuu

Gyomei, Obanai, Sanji, Dazai, Fyodor, Mihawk, Ayato, Itto

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blitzyn · 7 months ago

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a different method final pt

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

request: drop by to ask will there ever be a chance for part 3 with teacher zhongli? i dont know man. him and reader are so cute together. maybe i am crazy??? wanna see reader actually tries his best and gets his reward-

part one | part two

a/n -> oh my god i need francis mosses and wriothesley to fuck me right this INSTANT

wc -> 4k

cw -> praise, anal fingering, anal sex, mating press, desk sex, semi-public sex, teacher zhongli, student reader, not beta read

You were nervous. Jitters ran along the length of your spine and pooled in your chest, leaving a deep cavity that filled with anxiety. Why were you so anxious in the first place? It’s just a test. You’ve taken plenty of them during the course of your life.

You tried to play it cool, masking your face with a facade of nonchalance, hoping no one could see how clammy your hands were getting or your heartbeat, or the sweat rolling down—oh god was someone looking at you? Could they see through you? What if they could read your mind? Did they know that you were secretly trying to get your teacher to fuck you again?

You forced to stop yourself from physically deflating in relief when they looked away. Seemed like they were just looking around the room in an attempt to search for a hint or an answer to the question they were on. Right. The test. You’d finished it not too long ago, and now you were in the overthinking stage, wondering if you could’ve worded something better or if a different answer was right, but you forced yourself to calm the fuck down. You studied for this (surprisingly) and you were sure that at least half of your answers were correct. Hopefully.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard your teacher speak, notifying the class that there was five minutes left, and you could see a few write faster as they tried to finish on time. Those five minutes felt like an eternity, watching the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock above the door leisurely make its way to four, then three, then two, one… thirty seconds, and…

Finally!

You took your time packing up, watching your classmates rush out of the door, eager to leave the boring room. It wasn’t until the last person made their way out did you walk up to your teacher’s desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“May I help you?” He questioned, offering you a brief glance as he reached over to grab the pile of test papers. It was frustrating how he could just ignore your past… ordeals like they were nothing, but you were determined to claim your keep.

“Can you, uh, grade my paper? Now, I mean,” you requested, trying to fight off your growing eagerness, but it seemed that it didn’t matter when he quirked an eyebrow. He gave you an unconvinced look, leaning back on his chair to properly look at you, searching your eyes for something. “Please,” you hastily added, hoping it’d be enough to convince him.

“Why not wait until next week?” He seemed to have found what he was looking for as he relaxed his expression, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is there something urgent?”

“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure how to explain without sound too eager, but you were almost ninety percent sure he knew why you wanted him to grade it now. “I wanna see how I did. ‘Cause… I studied this time. So…”

An intrigued glint shone in his golden eyes, and his head bobbed in a slow, understanding nod. He returned to the stack and scanned through the list of names until he found yours, pulling out the answer sheet to look over. It was silent for a while, save for the occasional scratch of his pen and the obnoxious tick-tock of the clock. You crossed your arms across your chest and examined the room absentmindedly, finding it too weird to watch him grade in this silence.

“You’ve done well,” he suddenly spoke, the richness of his voice gently guiding you out of your thoughts. “Congratulations.”

You saw that he rotated the paper to you, letting you look at the numbers that adorned the white page. 47/50, it read, marking this your highest grade yet.

“That’s good,” you hummed, risking a glance up at him, only to find him already watching you expectantly.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He questioned, and you could’ve sworn that he had the faintest of smirks. It was gone as quick as you saw it, but you were sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You paused, feeling the uncomfortable weight of embarrassment creeping in your mind, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue. What were you so nervous about? You did good and everyone knew he didn’t go back on his word.

“You said you’d reward me if I did good,” you reminded, leaning forward a touch too eagerly.

“Did I?” He replied, his expression unchanging even when it was clear what you wanted. “The reward was the knowledge and understanding of this unit. Are you not satisfied?”

Fuck.

“Oh. Uh,” you were mortified—how could you not be? Technically, he didn’t specify what the prize would be. You just assumed it’d include him fucking you like the last two times. You stared at him, pursing your lips, not really bothering to hide the obvious displeasure in your face. “If I say no, will I get something else?”

The corners of his lips raised in a smug smile as he intertwined his fingers together, resting them atop the smooth wood of his desk. You noticed the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes and groaned softly. He was just messing with you.

“I suppose so,” he said, beckoning you closer to him with a refined hand. He flattened it along the curve of your hip, gently guiding you to the edge of his desk as he stood up to press himself against you. “You’ve done well today. You must’ve been very determined to get what you wanted, hm?”

You nodded slightly, almost shyly, shuddering at the feeling of his hand sliding down your pelvis to palm at your crotch. He was (not so) surprised to have felt you already hardening under his touch, but he didn’t comment on it, instead giving your cock an experimental squeeze. Your knees nearly buckled, grateful to have the desk supporting your weight as he stroked and explored your body.

“You’re more sensitive than the previous times we’ve done this,” he noted, leaning back to slot his thigh between your own and tilt your bashful head up. His grip was firm, unrelenting, raising goosebumps along your arms at his—frankly strange—strength. You hardly paid it any heed, of course. It just added to his appeal. “Have you been anticipating this moment since then?”

He refused to let you look away, tightening his grip on your chin to make you meet his golden eyes. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before steeling your nerves. He said you could have this, so you were going take it.

“Yeah,” you replied, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand needily. You bit your lip at the jolt of electricity that traveled up your spine, sending your senses into overdrive. You could smell his cologne—it was rich and smooth, subtle and fitting for a man like him. He was all you could feel, hear, and see as his hand made its way to the front of your pants, deftly undoing the button to tug them down.

“My, I can’t imagine how pent up you must be to be this aroused already,” he teased, his cheeks raised in a minuscule smirk. He swiftly pulled his gloves off and ran his hands ran over the curve of your thighs this time, sliding along the underside to lift you onto the desk. You tensed when the cold surface met your heated skin, but it was soon forgotten when you watched him slide your boxers off, breath hitching as he wrapped his hand around your cock.

He pressed his thumb onto the sensitive head, giving it a quick rub before lifting it, noticing the thin string of precum connecting his finger to you. He tightened his hold again to start jerking you off, listening intently to the slick noises and your breathy moans. He could feel his own dick beginning to harden, straining against the fabric of his slacks, but he ignored it for the sake of pleasuring you.

His touch was addicting. Hypnotizing. Entrancing. Anything and everything under the sun because you couldn’t get enough of how damn good he was. He knew just how tight to squeeze, the right pace, what made you shudder and squirm. The build-up was slow and delicious, clouding over your mind until your thoughts were hardly coherent enough to speak out.

“Damn—you’re… you’re good,” you shakily panted, eyes darting between his warm, strong hand and his own irises. Your cock throbbed, twitching at the sound of his low, amused chuckle. You clutched at the edge of the desk hard enough to make your hands shake, thighs flexing as you writhed. Though, you were careful enough not to accidentally kick him.

“I’m flattered you think so,” he responded, moving himself so that his hip pressed one of your thighs wider. He felt you hook your leg around his waist and tighten when he moved his hand away to prod his fingertips against your lips, wordlessly demanding entry. Eagerly, you complied, opening your mouth to let him press onto your tongue and gather your saliva.

You hummed at the feeling before closing your lips around them, gently sucking on them as you gauged his reaction. You couldn’t catch his overall expression shifting, but you did see his eyebrow raise the slightest bit and feel his cock throb against your ass. He let out a breath when he felt the suction alongside your tongue swirling around his skin, coating his fingers in your saliva. He pushed them further down, resulting in a soft gag from you. He held them there for a moment longer before pulling away, watching you break the thin trail that connected you to him with a swift swipe of your tongue over your slick lower lip.

Without missing a beat, he reached down, and you were fully expecting to feel him prod at your hole, but his hand targeted the handle of one of his drawers. You huffed impatiently and rolled your eyes when he pulled out a bottle of lube, listening to the sound of the cap being flipped open.

“Was the whole finger thing really necessary?” You grumbled, gasping slightly when he tugged your hips forward just enough so your ass hung off of the edge. You gave him a weak glare when he poured some of it on your asshole directly, tensing and shuddering at the sudden temperature drop.

“No,” he replied smoothly, easing his fingers into you. “But surely you didn’t expect to be the only one enjoying himself?” He questioned rhetorically, pumping them in and out slow enough so that the wet squelching was the only thing you could hear. “I also had no intention of using my saliva this time.”

“Could’ve started by now,” you said under your breath, mildly bitter that he had you gagging on his fingers just ‘cause he felt like it.

“Have patience,” he murmured, jabbing his slender fingers into your prostate in response to your vulgar words. He jerked you off with his free hand, paying close attention to each of your reactions, down to the minuscule twitch. “I know you can do that. If you can pass a simple test, how much more is waiting to you?”

You remained silent, swallowing the impending retort. You huffed through your nose, watching his hands expertly working your body better than you’d ever have. Your hips jerked and your cock pulsed rhythmically whenever he curled his slender fingers into that one spot that had you seeing stars. It was hard to keep quiet, and you were sure he was making this as difficult as he possibly could for you.

The heat in your belly intensified with every second—with every jab to your sensitive prostate and stroke along your painfully hard dick. Your labored breaths came out in quick pants, hitching when he teased the leaking tip. You were fully expecting him to take his time, to feel the gradual buildup, so when he suddenly speeds up, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

He gave you a sharp look, reminding you that you couldn’t afford to be loud despite not letting up. You swiftly clamped a hand over your mouth, weakly glaring at him for the sudden onslaught of stimulation, but you could hardly keep up the attitude for long. You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed, nostrils flaring at the effort as your hips jerked every so often.

“F–Fuck, sir,” you panted, your eyebrows furrowing when you looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m gonna… m’gonna cum.”

“Go ahead,” Zhongli murmured, watching you intently. And, like his rich, smooth voice was a trigger, you did. You bit down on your lip so hard you nearly punctured it, unable to completely muffle your moans as the sounds slipped past your hand. He didn’t scold you for it, instead deciding to continue to move his hands, milking out as much cum out of your cock as he could before you started to whine at the budding overstimulation.

He let you take a moment to gather yourself, shifting to grab a tissue and wipe his fingers clean. He turned back to look at you when you sighed, leaning back to place most of your weight on your palms.

“Do you need a break?” He questioned, placing his hands back on your bare thighs. He was in no rush despite having his painfully hard dick straining against his pants, and you were internally impressed with his self control.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, hooking your knee around his waist to tug him closer, but he hardly budged. “Fuck me. Now. I’ll be fine,” you urged. It seemed that demands were your strong suit this time around.

“Learning to have patience will benefit you greatly,” he said, and you watched the way he took a deep breath in a manner you knew meant that he was about to go on a long tangent of life lessons or something along the line. You gave him a pleading look, to which he acknowledged with yet another subtle, smug smirk. Good lord, when he wasn’t in a serious setting or teaching, he could be a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively.

“Stop doing that,” you huffed, but you could hardly maintain that (already weak) sense of annoyance when he moved to undo his pants, eyes quickly and instinctively making their way towards his cock. You could see the tip of it beading with precum and the way it flushed an angry red.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow what you’re trying to imply,” he responded, all of his amusement fizzling away to make room for the faux ignorance. He reached over to grab the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his palm and rub it along his dick, creating quiet squelching sounds that, now that you thought about it, made you cringe.

“So you just casually have lube laying around?” You questioned, looking back up at him curiously like you weren’t about to have sex. You had a strange relationship, honestly.

“I got it recently. Based on your reaction towards our last session together, it was easy to assume that you’d make a genuine effort,” he said, wiping most of the lube off his hand with a tissue before hefting your thighs up his broad shoulders. “You’re quite predictable.”

You didn’t bother to refute this time, wincing slightly at the tension to your lower back. “Ow—careful,” you hissed, shifting to get comfortable when you paused suddenly, feeling the head of his cock press against your asshole.

“You’ll be fine,” he gently assured, resting his free hand beside your head. “Bear with it.”

He pushed forward—gently this time, unlike the way he so roughly shoved himself inside you like the first time. You tensed regardless, mildly uncomfortable with the burn that came with his entry.

“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing a hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, coaxing your relaxation forth. He sank in slowly, breathing in deeply as he fought the urge to shove himself in one go. It felt better this way, he realized, taking his time instead of rushing it out of the sake of irritation. “You’re doing well. Just breathe.”

You nodded sheepishly, resting your head back against his desk. Your chest fell and rose rhythmically, making yourself relax to make things easier for both you and him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip and grunted when he finally buried himself all the way inside you, listening to him grunt in satisfaction.

“Fuck… is it me, or did you literally get bigger?” Your voice was strained, breathy and shaky. Your legs tightened slightly around his shoulders, staring at him needily.

“No, nothing about me has changed,” he chuckled softly, finding your state humorous. “But you have. You’ve improved your character within this room and proved that you’re more than capable of passing my class. You’ve made me proud, [L.Name].”

“Oh. Haha. Really?” You laughed awkwardly, turning your head to the side bashfully. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the praise, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness that you were hardly able to hide. “I guess I am doing better, huh?”

He nodded in response, his golden eyes softening. “I will begin now.”

You gasped, instinctively looking down to watch him pull out a bit and softly push back inside. You shuddered at the drag of his cock against your prostate, biting your lip once again to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat.

He moved rhythmically, his gaze locked on your blissful expression. His cock throbbed as he slid in and out, again and again, targeting your prostate with pinpoint precision. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, grunting softly, your soft moans mixing in with the wet, gentle slaps that filled the room.

“Shit—don’t say stuff like that,” you stubbornly said, slapping a hand over your mouth when he jabbed his dick up against your prostate with a sharp thrust.

“No? But is it—” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing when he felt you squeeze tighter around him, letting out a strained, labored breath. He tightened his fingers into fists that had his knuckles turning white, pressing his hips against your ass firmly for a moment before resuming. “But is it not the truth?”

You rolled your eyes, using your lack of momentum to kick his back with the heel of your foot. “You talk too much…”

“Is that so?” He retorted, a faint smirk gracing his features as he bent down lower, brushing his lips against your ear, and ignored the strained grunt you let out at the added tension to your back. “Then what would you like me to do?”

You hesitated, shivering pleasantly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. “Harder. Go harder.” The two of you remained silent for a beat, and you quickly realized he was expecting something else. “Please.”

“Good boy. Just because I’m doing this for you doesn’t mean you simply forget your manners,” he scolded lightheartedly.

And, like clockwork, your jaw snapped open to argue, but he wouldn’t allow it this time. He rammed his cock so hard in you stars danced through your vision, your body tensing and clenching down tighter around his cock. His breaths came out shallow and labored, focused on churning your insides to mush while you tried your damn best to keep yourself from getting too loud.

“Fuck—oh my God, sir, please—” you choked out, hands scrambling for purchase. You covered your mouth with one and buried your fingers in his hair with the other, inadvertently tugging on the strands and messing up his ponytail. “Wait…!”

“Is this not what you wanted?” He rhetorically questioned, his voice low, not needing to raise his volume over your surprised and needy moans. “A shame,” he continued, finding no desire to let up any time soon. He panted harshly into your neck, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he savored the feeling of your tight hole fluttering and pulsing around him. This closeness was unwarranted and wrong, he of all people knew that. But as you whimpered and whined into his ear, he also found that he didn’t mind it.

All that could be heard were the resounding slaps and your poorly concealed noises. The desk creaked slightly, straining under your combined weight as he kept you pinned down with his body, ignoring the quiet rustle of paper as a few fluttered off the desk.

“Fuck, m’so close, sir,” came your muffled words, eyes rolling in ecstasy as you dragged your hand down to clutch tightly at his back, fingers desperately curling into his clothes. “G-Gonna cum—don’t stop!”

“Quiet,” he shushed you, giving one of your thighs a brief pinch before he grabbed hold of your weeping cock to stroke it in time with his movements. Slick sounds emanated from you as he jerked you off with dexterity, stoking the raging heat in your belly. “I know you can lower your voice. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You meekly shook your head, letting go of his back to place both hands over your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself jolt up and down as he rammed himself into your ass rhythmically. Your legs tightened slightly around his neck, searching for something to cling to. You were so close and you knew he was aware of it. He refused to let up, pushing you higher and higher, groaning when you tightened around him reflexively.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your hands hardly able to catch your voice as you came hard, body shuddering and convulsing. He squeezed your dick, slowing down considerably to help you through your orgasm, sweat rolling down his temple at the shared body heat and the effort to please you.

He pulled out with a grunt, letting one of your legs fall off his shoulder as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off, sighing in satisfaction when he finally came. You shivered, resting an arm over your eyes in exhaustion as the two of you basked in the afterglow, chest heaving up and down as you panted hard.

“You’ve done well,” he murmured, cleaning his hands off with a tissue to massage your trembling thighs, giving you a moment to recompose yourself. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks…” you replied, taking your arm off your face to look at him. He was disheveled--the most unkempt you've ever seen him. You sighed gratefully when he moved your remaining leg down to grab another tissue and wipe off his and your cum that landed on your stomach.

"Here, take this." He handed you a bottle of water, fixing himself as soon as you accepted it. "It'll do you well to rehydrate yourself, especially after an intensive session such as this."

You drank a generous amount, wiping your mouth after you put the bottle down to retrieve your pants and underwear when he handed them to you. "Thanks. Again."

"Of course." He nodded, giving you more space to put your clothes back on, watching you with a soft expression. "It's getting late. Would you like me to escort you home?"

"I'm okay. I live, like, what, ten minutes away by foot?" You shook your head, wincing slightly at the ache in your back. You stood up and stretched, yawning, as you made your way away from the desk. You noticed a piece of paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, flipping it over to place atop the surface, realizing that it was your test that fell. Staring at the red numbers for a moment longer, you were overcome with a sense of embarrassment.

Man, the things you'd do for dick.

"Don't expect any leniency from me, [L.Name]," he said, walking over towards the window to open it, letting a fresh breeze carry the smell of sex outside. "My demands still remain."

"I know," you sighed, feigning dejection before you grabbed your stuff, walking towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then."

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breedbun · 8 months ago

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🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶

zhongli/rex lapis x bottom m!reader

details: amab reader, humiliation, feminisation, size diff, public, anal, blowjob, self-indulgent, reader is an incubus, dubcon, rough, bondage, punishment, praise×degradation

minors dni 18+

do not repost 🚫

fanfic below vv

you don't remember when or how you got yourself in this mess, but god, you were not complaining. albeit the fact you're whining, crying and moaning like a slut in front of so many people, it's the fact you have never felt this fulfilled in your fucking life. vigorously being fucked like a dog, humiliated and bred like a bitch in heat. caus' of the blindfold over your eyes neatly going behind your ears, you can hear the very obvious chattering of people below the wooden surface you were on and even cameras clicking, flashing, all for you. you can't see anything, but you sure can hear and feel everything. the back of your thighs slapped against morax's, the squelching sound of his cum in your tight cunt as he consistently and violently kept thrusting into you. this wasn't the first time you've been fucked publicly as a punishment, you were an incubus afterall. it all started with you flirting with this oh so mighty god, wanting to earn his trust and protection.. except, you didn't realise you were just trapping yourself in his grasp— “slut, still smiling are you?" pfft, i mean, how could you not? that thick cock was addicting, just thinking about it would turn him on. but being publicly bred, and being forced an orgasm after orgasm? that would linger in your mind forever.

smack!

a loud, embarrassing moan escapes your throat with the spank, choking on sobs as you gasped for air with the soreness in your throat from his throatfucking previously making you cough. you were definitely drooling now.

his rhythm was clean, smooth, and rough. he pulls all the way out, just enough for the tip to barely be in you, leaving that empty feel inside your cheeks. don't worry though, he quickly thrusts back in at full strength, forcing your abused hole to take his full length in.

..how long was this going for? you don't even know. your wrists and shoulders are starting to hurt, hands tightly trapped in a rough rag he tied around your arms. the only reason why he didn't gag you, was because he wanted to let everyone hear what a whore you were, turned into his fucktoy for sleeping around with another mortal man who doesn't even deserve a glance of your divine, heavenly body. if it weren't for the wet blindfold around your eyes, you'd bet he'd tell you to keep your pretty eyes on him. he wraps his much bigger hand around the belt buckle, using a suffocating make-shift leash gripping tight on your throat, the leather grazing the many bite marks and hickies on your poor neck..

maybe you should sleep with even uglier mortals, he'll get more angry and take even more drastic measures.. like fucking you harder and longer.

"you better learn your lesson quick, before i fuck you to death."

clueless morax, that's exactly what you want.

🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸🔶🔸

hi this is my first fanfic im tired of always fucking zhongli instead of being fucked by him, so take this not proofread shit fic i made... bye

~ `` zayel, 31/3/24 ``

#zhongli x male reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x male reader #male reader #gay #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin #zhongli x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #bottom reader #amab reader #amab #breedbun

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hydroj1ns · 8 months ago

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quick li fluff

(i need him so bad)

cw: dragon hybrid zhongli x gn!reader, just fluff :) | not proofread

Waking up in Zhongli's comfortable, spacious Liyue apartment is like heaven on Earth, with light bathing your sleep-ridden form through a gap between the curtains as you crack your eyes open to be greeted with a sight that immediately brought a dreamy smile to your face.

A half-dragon, half-man was sitting with his back against the bedframe, a novel in one hand and mesmerizing golden irises moving in saccades across line after line of text. The man's strong, dark bronze horns protruded from his head elegantly, like decorative pillars sculpted by the most talented artist in the world. His hands, large, dark, and adorned with glowing golden veins flipped page after page in his book as he continued his leisurely reading. His deep chocolate hair, with its ends glowing softly in the dimness of the room, was draped across his broad shoulders--- a refreshing sight compared to his usually tightly-contained ponytail that he wore during the day. His loose sleep shirt, a soft cotton fabric with a deep V-neck, allowed for just enough for the imagination, revealing the slight chisel of his chest and the pale skin of his slender neck.

When he noticed your eyes roaming across his form, he smiled, showing off his sharp dragon fangs. "Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?" He placed his novel on the nightstand and reached over to gather you in his arms. His firm biceps did something to your sleep-ridden mind, making you giddy. You snuggled into his half-exposed chest, mumbling to yourself. "Mmph, it was good... let's stay here a little longer."

Zhongli hummed in agreement and began massaging your scalp with his draconic claws (a few clipped to bluntness). Half your face still in his chest, you noticed his tail flicking back and forth gently on the sheets. Curiously, you reached for the scaled appendage, wrapping your hand around its base and stroking down towards the end, along the grain.

It was rare for Zhongli to be in his dragon form. He of course, couldn't risk revealing it in the Harbor, and though he trusted you wholly, the only time he exposed that side of himself to you was during his heats, when golden veins and scales were unable to be hidden.

You continued your ministrations, running your nails across deep brown scales, listening to the clicks of keratin on keratin as row after row of draconic plates were passed under your fingers.

Suddenly, you felt a vibration under where your face was resting, followed by a deep grumble. Tilting your head up, you were met with a flustered Zhongli and an adorable pink blush spread across his cheeks. You stared into his warm chocolate eyes with a mischievous smile on your face. He only tightened his grip on you as you moved further down his tail, until your fingers felt the soft golden fur at its end.

Playing with his fur and admiring its shimmery hue, you indulged in the unceasing purrs from the man holding you ever so closely. The rumbles traveled through your whole body, and you thought that this might be the best part of having a draconic partner.

Then ceasing your stroking, you moved your hands to cradle his pretty face, and pressed a kiss to his unblemished lips. "You should be a dragon more often," you breathed against his mouth.

#dragon zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #dragon zhongli #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin hybrid au #genshin ftm reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x you #hydroj1ns fluff

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months ago

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Prologue - "The Forgotten Tale of Sky Weaver"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which the Traveler and Paimon come across a mysterious adeptus by the name of Sky Weaver while the two are exploring near the sparsely populated cliffsides of Mt. Mingyuan. Or; In which the long-forgotten tale of the adeptus Sky Weaver is uncovered by Aether from the lips of the various Adepti of Liyue and the people who know them.

The skies of Chenyu Vale had always possessed an almost otherworldly quality to them. Mortals who reside in the Liyue subregion pay it no mind as it has been a natural phenomenon for as long as they can remember.

However, those who have immortal souls and wield adeptal powers know of the true origin behind the ethereal skies in Chenyu Vale.

A tale long forgotten by the mortal world and kept close by those who lived it.

The Forgotten Tale of Sky Weaver.

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! #thetaleofskyweaver @itztaki @sassy-cat-in-town @xharisrealm @lupicalbestwolf @pjmsies @just-here-reading @chibiduck @dellalyra @kiiyoooo @heavenlysilence0vx @2nd-number @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mshope16 @paastaboi @a-little-pebbl

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xuzuitengenx · 1 year ago

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Sub!Zhongli x Top!Male Reader NSFW! Oneshot

Title—"Let Me Take Care of You"

Genre—Smut/Lemon

AU—Can be viewed as both None or Modern

Warning(s): EXPLICIT WORDS, OOC Moments, Zhongli failing as a power bottom, Light Feminization(Zhongli being called a pillow princess), Dacryphilia, Riding, Implied Oversimulation?

A/N: This is not proofread—I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes and I given up at the end so I hope it's good (I'm going to fix it later!)

Zhongli's thighs were burning and trembling as he grew desperate and frustrated while he tried to ride M/N who was smugly smirking at the very, very sad attempts of Zhongli trying to top and failing which caused him to let out a sob or a frustrated whine here and there, his orgasm ruined once again.

M/N was enjoying every second of this—seeing Zhongli breaking without M/N actually doing anything.

Zhongli's hands laid on the chest of M/N as he tried to bounce his aching hips once again as his cock and himself begging for a release.

Zhongli can feel M/N's eyes looking at him and watching him trying to fulfill his attempt of topping M/N but he didn't dare to make eye contact, knowingly that he would give in right then and there.

"C'mon love, let me help you." M/N spoke to Zhongli whose hips started to increase in pace as breathy moans and pants left his wet lips.

At this point, pleads left Zhongli as his hips started to burn—trembling due to how long he was doing this.

"No..No, no..please..!" Zhongli mutters as his hips came to a stop due to exhaustion, his orgasm disappearing again, making Zhongli let out an exasperate sob.

"Darling." Zhongli heard his lover call out. He didn't want to give up but he was tired and wants to cum so bad. He was beyond desperate, he wanted M/N to fuck him and give him the ecstasy he was chasing for.

Zhongli finally looked at M/N for the first time that night, his glistening yellow eyes that held tears as his cheeks were pink. Not an everyday sight from the Geo-Archon.

"Let me take care of you, my love, hmm?" M/N added a questioning hum, awaiting for Zhongli's answer which didn't take long at all.

"Please.." Zhongli whispers before he felt M/N's hands on his waist, touching him for the first time too as Zhongli told M/N not to touch him without permission—he knew that he would completely fold if M/N touches him—Zhongli lets out a short gasp as he felt himself being flipped over onto the pillows that M/N was previously on.

Zhongli watches M/N as he held a smirk, rubbing Zhongli's pale thighs while his eyes fixated on Zhongli's flustered face.

"Once a pillow princess, always a pillow princess, huh?" M/N snickered, pulling his cock out of Zhongli's hole before thrusting it right back it roughly which caused Zhongli to let out a shocked moan as the pleasure overcame him.

When the pleasure hit Zhongli, ropes of cum spurted out and landed on his abdomen. Zhongli felt both embarrassed and relieved, his body trembled while his back arched against the sheets.

M/N was mesmerized at the sight in front of him and it just made him more turned on, but he didn't want to push Zhongli until that thought was washed away when Zhongli's hands held M/N's face and pulled him down to kiss him.

M/N instantly returned the kiss before Zhongli broke it as he whispered something against M/N's lips which ignited something in him.

"Fuck me, M/N. I beg..Please.."

Without a moment of hesitation, M/N kissed Zhongli once more, Zhongli melts into the kiss as a small whine was heard from Zhongli's throat. Zhongli's hands fell onto M/N's shoulders, preparing himself as he felt M/N's cock slide out of his hole once again before M/N thrusted inside of Zhongli.

"Mphm!!" A muffled moan came from Zhongli as pleasure started to take over the couple—overwhelming but good on Zhongli's part.

M/N broke the kiss for he can hear Zhongli's majestical moans better as he fucked him.

A/N: Again sorry for any mistakes I made!

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adonisbeloveds · 11 months ago

Note

Hello! I really enjoyed how you wrote the SAGAU Genshin characters reacting to reader using them to farm for other characters. It ended up giving me inspiration for a request.

I don't know when I started doing it, but it originally started out as a joke. At some point, I started to "Pray" to Barbatos whenever I went to do a ten pull. It was always something short and simple like "Lord Barbatos please bless my pulls." And for whatever reason it just sorta stuck.

So my request is, how would the archons (Or just the archons of your choice if that's too much) react to hearing the player "Pray" To them before pulling for a new character?

Thanks a bunch for your time! Hope you have a nice day

Zhongli: When he first heard you pray to him he was both shocked and happy, shocked that you would pray to him of all archons but happy you did so at all, although he isn't an archon anymore he will try to bless all and every one of your pulls even though he will feel kinda jealous that your pulling for another archon. Even though he isn't an archon he will always be ready to bless your pulls whenever you ask him to <3

Venti: His pride would skyrocket and you already know hes bragging to the other archons that you chose him over them, hes not just some bard whos an archon anymore no no hes the archon that the creator prays to!

He will bless every and all your pulls, he needs to prove to you that you made the right choice! that you were right to pray to him! he will be salty that your pulling for another archon but he trusts you not to abandon him!...right? Him and zhongli are just little guys who feel the most amount of pride and happiness when you pray to them <3

I don't write for females but I will give a sentance or two for them because its christmas and I feel bad for leaving this for to long <3 also these are all to be seen as platonic

Ei: Would be surprised but grateful that you trust her after what shes done i hate ei soo idk what to write here

Nahida: Would be glad and blessed all of your pull and might even give you a con or two ahem my wanderer c1 ahem

Furina: literally cried because you still see her as a archon and her dad neuvilette had to comfort her, she will bless all your pulls

Sorry if its a little shit i feel the writers block coming but i still tried :D

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arborio00 · 8 months ago

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sum: "what are we?" pillow talk between zhongli and gn! reader.

a/n: from the (very old) poll!! thank you again to all 315 of you who voted.

no cws : pure fluff.

> you and Zhongli aren't quite together. in all actuality, you’re not sure if that concept exactly exists to him in the way it does to humans, your lover possessive and archaic.

> he holds you through the night without being asked to, a cuddly pillow of mortal love and affection. Zhongli prepares meals for you according to the ancient recipes they originated from centuries ago, and he barters expertly for fine perfumes to gift you. it’s better than you think anyone could possibly treat you, and the word ‘boyfriend’ just doesn’t quite suit it. the term feels elementary and a trivialization. it waters down what it really is.

> “you love me, don’t you?” you whisper, trying to laugh in case you must play it off in the end. but you know better, and so does Zhongli. that shyness, that fear in your voice, is perfect for his keen ear.

> such a question is hardly a joke to him. Zhongli pulls you further into him, flush, both bathed in the mixture of pitch-black and starlight, his nose bumping your head.

> “of all treasures, you are the most precious,” he murmurs slowly, pressing a kiss to your crown, breathing in your scent; the fragrance of local fruits and his own clean bedsheets.

> you huff. it shouldn't make you frown, you know, but it does regardless. curling against his chest, you mumble, “that’s not what ‘m asking…”

> his seriousness fades, becoming more smug. he laughs softly before relaxing into a slight smirk, amused by your cuteness, nearly lost in its purity. “ah, you want to hear it, don’t you? that I love you,” he muses.

> pouting, you don’t find his teasings nearly as funny as usual, as he may. you bury your face into his collarbone, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength of the fine form he has settled on for decades. Zhongli purrs.

> “I do love you… not in the way I love my country, or the fauna it grows, but in a truly unique way. it is a feeling I have never experienced in all of my abundant years. not unless I am with you, my love.” his large hands adjust you just so he can press a kiss to the apple of your cheek. “I love you, and am sorry I had not made that more clear.”

> you grumble. curse Zhongli and his sly, poetic tongue and tender reassurance. you were supposed to be sleepy and upset, like all of the protagonists of all of your favorite short, Inazuman novels. but Zhongli soothes you without invalidating you, simply and shortly, a skill he knows well. you just had to be the luckiest person in the world. you snuggle him as if seeking warmth.

> he chuckles softly, wrapping you in his arms. you know he won’t be letting go.

#for readers #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x male reader #zhongli x gender neutral reader #zhongli x gn reader #zhongli x male reader #zhongli headcanons #zhongli fluff

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l1tw1ck · 2 years ago

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thinking about boss zhongli

cw: top m reader, dom/sub, cheating, getting caught

imagine a strong powerful man getting dominated by his own subordinate, getting turned in a submissive free use whore who can only think about how big his junior's cock is and how amazing it felt inside him. he doesn't even think about his husband at work anymore, his picture has since been thrown away and he keeps his ring at home with the excuse of 'not wanting to lose it'

whenever you're tired or feeling stressed, you come by his office and use him as you please. he's your cute little cock sleeve, made for your pleasure

he can't go a day without you fucking him so he promotes you to his personal assistant, giving you more opportunities to use his pretty little hole.

everyone in the office knows about your affair but they have no intention on telling zhongli's husband. not like the contracts they signed will allow it anyway

"Fu- fuck~!" Zhongli sobs, bent over on his desk as you pull on his hair and spank his ass. "More! Daddy~!"

The door suddenly swings open, revealing Zhongli's husband. "Zhongli?!" He exclaims, eyes blown wide open. Zhongli acknowledges him but he's so close, he needs you to keep going. He doesn't care who's watching him.

"Don't- don't stop~!" He exclaims. "'M gonna come!"

Childe watches in shock as the man he promised his life to gets his hole destroyed by someone who he considers a stranger. Is this why he's been staying at work so late? To get fucked? Is he not enough for Zhongli?

Zhongli bites his lip as his orgasm comes crashing down. The feeling of his walls tightening around you pull you into an orgasm as well and it's not long before you're dumping your cum inside him

Childe doesn't know how to feel.

#wicks🕯shorts #zhongli x male reader #sub zhongli #zhongli smut #top male reader #🕯️Zhongli #🕯️Genshin

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yourheart-inmyhands · 6 months ago

Note

Hello friend!

Would it be alright if I request some angst content with the Archons + Neuvi + Arlecchino where the darling is injured to a lethal extent, where they are hanging by a thread (your choice if it was self-given or otherwise).

Maybe some of them took darling's company and time for granted so having them be so close to gone is like a wake up call to them, and they become 10x more overbearing, and perhaps a little loving? Thank you!!!

🍌anon

Hi thank you so much for the request! Unfortunately I don't really do more than 3-4 characters in one post anymore so I did half the characters you asked for, but you are 100% free to send in another request for the others <3 I hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of violence, mentions of delusional behavior, mentions of reader being sick, hurt, and otherwise injured, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk.

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino might be a bit cold and standoffish, but she was never a cruel lover. She just didn’t trust herself to get any closer to you than she was. She’d sleep in the same bed as you at night, buy you gifts, and eat meals with you, but affection was a difficult thing to get from her. Arlecchino has feared being close to someone not because she doesn’t want to be loved, but because she doesn’t want to experience any more loss in her life.

She thought that by keeping you at arm’s length she could protect you, but in fact, she had been wrong. Sitting by your bedside, ears blocking out the dull beeping of your monitors as she stares. Not at your face, she can’t bring herself to look at your gorgeous features after letting you get this hurt, but instead, she stares at your hand. It lays limp on top of the bed sheets, and as much as Arlecchino hates to admit it, she wants nothing more than to hold it right now.

It’s almost as painful as the first time she saw you all bandaged up, wires all over you as you lay on the bed, looking more so asleep than in the coma the doctor said you were in. The desire to hold your hand, it made her fingers twitch, her nose scrunch and her heart hurt. Arlecchino loved you, undoubtedly, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be affectionate with you on this level. Against her will though, her hand seems to move on its own, creeping up the side of the bed and gently scooping up your limp one. Arlecchino was never one to cry, a barely audible curse leaving her lips as she bites them, trying to steady their trembling as she turns her head, blinking away the building tears. She hated crying, but she hated even more that this was the first time she’d ever held your hand, a time when you couldn’t even return it, couldn’t even be awake to feel it.

Neuvillette:

Neuvillette is distraught, both because of how long it took him to notice how bad your cold had been getting and because he didn’t even notice till a small hoard of angry melusines stormed his office. It wasn’t like he was trying to be ignorant, he had just been busy and figured that you’d get over your cold soon. Humans are strong and resilient, a mere cold shouldn’t be that difficult, especially with some melusines caring for you.

He had rushed home immediately, finding you curled up under a mass of blankets and yet still shivering, a gathering of melusines around you fussing and frantic over your continuous decline. While Neuvillette wanted to reassure them that you’d be alright, looking at you in this moment, he couldn’t even reassure himself of that.

A week had passed since Neuvillette had rushed home, refusing to return to his office until you had made a full recovery. He spent most of the day laying in bed with you, helping to keep you warm by holding you close, his natural body temperature being higher than humans helped greatly with this. He wasn’t worried about catching your cold, dragons had much hardier immune systems, but he was worried about your slow recovery rate. Even with the gracious help of the melusines, you had rapidly declined before he came around to ensure you were recovering. A small part of him wonders what it was that was making you worse, he knew the care the melusines provided was above and beyond what he could do himself. The small part of him that doesn’t know hides the smaller part that does know what was wrong, that small bit of denial that his ignorance was making you worse.

Zhongli:

It had been a long time since Zhongli last felt the warm, sticky feeling of blood on his hands, the front of his suit splattered in it and his polearm drenched in it. Despite having once been the war god, it was never something Zhongli enjoyed, which was why he made the change to the god of contracts. Yet in this moment, he couldn’t refrain from the violent nature that lurked within him.

Seeing you crumpled on the ground, an ever-growing puddle of blood beneath you as a gathering of treasure hoarders laughed and stalked off, hands holding belongings stolen from the innocent citizens of Liyue, you included. It left a gross feeling in his chest, a sickening, growing rage that he couldn’t dismiss. His first move was to evaluate your condition, making sure you were stable before demanding Xiao, his most treasured Adeptus, take you to the Bubu pharmacy. His second course of action was to summon his polearm, following the obvious trail the attackers had left behind.

Zhongli didn’t even bother to clean up before going to visit you, his once pristine image now stained as he stalked into the pharmacy. He was covered in dried red, yet not a spec was his. He didn’t even need directions to know where you were, silently walking over to the cot you were laid on, pulling up a chair to sit beside you as he nodded in regards to the doctor himself, Baizhu. There weren't many in Liyue that Zhongli trusted to treat his beloved well, but Baizhu he knew was a capable doctor. Looking at Xiao, who stood silently in the corner, watching over you till Zhongli arrived, the tall man dismissed the Yaksha, who knew exactly what mess he was being asked to clean up. It was in this moment, watching skilled hands drag a needle through your delicate skin, stitching up wound after wound, that Zhongli swore he’d never leave your side, not even for a moment. He couldn’t lose you.

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weird-addiction · 2 years ago

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Voice lines about you

Liyue boys edition

X Male! Khaenri’ah! Reader

Chongyun

About Y/n:

“Oh him? I met him when I was in the mountains. He seemed nice but I barely know him. I hope I bump into him again.”

Baizhu

About Y/n:

“The one boy who came in looking confused? Ahaha. He was nice and I gave him a place to recover since he looked pretty tired. His eyes were nice looking if I do say so myself.”

Xingqiu

About Y/n:

“You mean the boy that Chongyun met up in the mountains? Don’t know, barely saw him. Wait, you saw him at the book booth? I have to meet him now!”

Tartagila (he was released in Liyue so I’m including him)

About Y/n:

“That man is not someone I would mess with. But he does put up a good fight, and that just gets my blooding rushing! I did spar with him once and I woke in the night, he knocked me out for half of the day. Now that’s an worthy opponent!”

Xiao

About Y/n:

“……I saw them once. They saved me once. I never saw them again after that. Those eyes felt…familiar..”

Zhongli

About Y/n:

“That boy, you know him as well. I guess their is no way of hiding this, yes I have met him. He is good company and lighthearted when he speaks, gentle manner in his touches. Hard to believe if you looked at the marks on his arms, but yet his touch is a breeze. His story is not my place to tell, go seek him if you wish to know. Why? I signed a contract with them of course.”

#🥀mukuro’s way #male reader #male y/n #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact #genshin x male reader #zhongli x male reader #xingqiu x male reader #childe x male reader #baizhu x male reader #xiao x male reader #genshin zhongli #genshin xingqiu #genshin childe #tartagila #genshin baizhu #genshin xiao

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jhuzen · 18 days ago

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the woes of a god [gn/m.reader]

definitely not my comeback piece. just got inspired randomly in the middle of so many things that i have been doing. i deeply apologize ;; 🙇‍♂️. this is just… a really long story that builds on the premise of the last story i posted TvT.

𖦹 big on genshin lore again, with a few interpretations of my own to fill in the gaps and insert the reader, creator reader but not sagau (again like the last story), focuses on post primordial one vs sovereigns, primordial one and second throne war, archon war, and post-cataclysm. features all six archons by their goetic names (the tsaritsa is conveniently not around), neuvillette, mentions of old seven and apep, this leans on a what if scenario, of reader coming down to teyvat before the archon war, reader is a little brutal but that’s okay ;;

The sky has never looked more fake.

Your eyes squint at the light that the world you have crafted bathed in. You had seen the horrific sights that lie beyond the peaceful blue that the skies projected before you.

Though it did little to bother any other living creature that now dwelled on your magnum opus. Your gaze drifts to the new beings, molded with striking differences from one another, their characteristics bound by the land that they were born on.

The day you had awoken was a painful ordeal to go through. The wounds that lodged within your very body is terrifyingly painful. And the very world that you had created and anchored into your body was the only culprit.

For a time, your masterpiece, Teyvat, felt like a malignant tumor that only propagated within your soul, corroding every piece of your self until you are no more. How ironic was it that your most cherished creation among all the other worlds became the very thing that causes you physical harm.

You had slumbered for a long time since then, and had dutifully descended. Your sleep was not only attributed to the pain during its descent, but also to mourn the painful passing of your beloved sovereigns. Your eyes cannot endure the fate they suffered through, and to this day, the guilt tramples over whatever sense of elation that you feel, washed over with the feelings of intense shame.

Their creator was you alone. No one else.

And when an alien being came to hunt them down for a war that lasted decades, you were nowhere to be found.

You were certain that Nibelung knew your gaze was casted on them, that he understood you were stepping away as a form of test, a way to see if he, as well as your seven sovereigns could withstand such a small conundrum such as a foreign descender.

The thought sickens you physically — you could only wonder if you putting your loving faith on them to be your champions in this war was a devastating mistake of yours that they paid for with their lives and dignity. Your mind could barely comprehend the kind of desperation that Nibelung must have felt for him to dive into the deepest depths and use a knowledge not of this world that Teyvat, and to an extent — your body, until now, struggles to recover from.

A sigh escapes your lips.

It was a gnawing ache, like those celestial larvae that crawl into your body, having a grand feast on it.

The day you descended, you had called on the elements that embodied this very world, seeking answers for what had happened when you were in such a deep sleep, entirely clueless of the events, with only a body that aches from the physical wounds it sustained to guide you to the clues about Old Teyvat’s demise and the embarking of its new age.

You had learned that day, that after the devastating defeat of your dragons, it imparted a new life. And now, humans walked the very ground you had crafted for dragons to walk on initially. You have also learned that the tiny vishaps have retreated deep into Teyvat, living under the hopeless depths, making do and surviving in such a decrepit environment.

Coming in contact with them was nothing more than a world full of hurt when you came to the realization that even the vishaps are terrified of your light. It had shattered a piece of you, and have only grieved with nothing but shame and regret.

And even when you left, the despairing echoes of your cries remained beneath as the vishaps’ lullabies as well as the tears that created a pool for them to bathe in.

Your cries that soothed the vishaps became a haunting legend in a certain civilization that had collapsed and fell through the depths. Children cowered at the stories told about the harrowing echoes, and the scholars of that very civilization had recorded your voice as a mere phenomenon, a tale for the insane, a story for bedtime to frighten unruly children.

Much after the grieving that you had succumbed to, you had learned the stinging pain that pierced through your body that keeps persisting to this day was the work of these pillars — you have come to know them as its divine nails, made to heal the lands of Teyvat from the parasitic effects that the forbidden knowledge inflicted when it was used during the wars.

Quite frankly, it did little to heal your body as you feel the way it seems to lodge within your very core, destroying and corrupting pieces of your soul.

Your first journey since your awakening was nothing short of enlightening. You had learned much about the turn of events. Your dragons have suffered enough, with the few alive ones like the Dragon of Verdure incredibly spiteful of the new race that came about.

And you were not clueless about the sharp tone Apep had taken when she first talked to you after your disappearance during the war between it and the seven sovereigns. You understood the bitterness and sheer betrayal that she had felt, knowing that all this would have been prevented had you only decided to lend a hand.

You left Apep’s abode with little pity for yourself and more remorse for not being a proper artisan to your creation.

But as you watched a civilization grow among the vast sands, you also cannot help but disagree with the unsavory words that Apep had described the new life.

Yes, they were small.

But you understood that humanity is not insignificant.

Gods have always fascinated you.

You understood that to some degree, you too, are a god. You understood that way before Teyvat became a project of yours. Your previous creations that were successfully inhabited with the creatures you had given life to worshiped you, and your descent on your visits were always welcomed with celebrations of endless grandeur.

Things were no different once the sovereigns had come to realize that you were the source of their life and the very world they live in right now. And you had also been crowned as Teyvat’s primordial deity.

However, the age of humanity had given birth to two differing types. There were the normal humans — mortal, average in strength, and so easily swayed by their desires and fears alike.

And then there were the immortals. You had come to realize that immortals came in all forms. Some had originally been creatures of the myth, others were mere elemental manifestations, spirits, or humans that were lucky enough to be ordained and strong enough to defy all the odds that an average human can only do.

There were also gods who took the shape of creatures — sea monsters, newer dragons that were striking descendants of the ancient ones.

You understood then, that even immortals, much like mortals, answered to the authority that reigned supreme in your world, someone who is not you.

Glancing up at the sky, your gaze immediately drifts to that floating piece of land, meant to hold the thrones of those revered by the new worldly life.

And just as you were finally understanding the existence of gods lesser than you, the one above who has stolen your very presence of authority declared an all-out brawl across Teyvat, deeming your very masterpiece its playground for needless bloodshed and barbaric warfare.

It declared seven thrones for seven remaining gods that would triumph above all.

And nothing could prepare you for the prize of winning one.

It was an unforgettable feeling — the way your blood ran cold as it presented seven ornaments in unique shapes, each containing a very familiar power that you have cultivated and given yourself.

The prize was the authority of your defeated sovereigns.

Mockery. You thought it was mockery. You thought whatever resides up there knows you were lurking, relearning Teyvat after your forced slumber for survival, and decided to taunt your everlasting grief over your creations by using the very dignity of each dragon sovereign that you had entrusted those authorities to.

And now, it taunts you in such a needlessly cruel way, by desecrating your world once more through an all out war between the very gods they have also created.

It was a jarring era. You took part in aiding the defenseless mortals, taking whoever in the tiny nooks all over the world. You had brought several mortals in your sanctuary in times of desperation while gods have staked their claim by surviving battle after battle.

Tactics were employed by different gods, differing in styles. Some had bargained for it, some willingly gave their throne to a god they deem fit, others who are weaker opted to team up with those that can trample over others, some had forcibly taken what was rightfully theirs, and some had willingly shut themselves off, cowering away in hopes of being left alone so they may protect their people in peace.

You had learned by then that even gods… can succumb to their desires and fears.

It had been long since the great war among gods had concluded.

However you can still feel the bittersweet sensation that pulsed through your veins as you watched all seven take their seats, claim their divine thrones, and hold the vessels for the power stolen from your elemental dragon sovereigns.

You would remember them as they staked their claim over their regions.

Barbatos, Morax, Baal, Rukkhadevata, Egeria, Xbalanque, and previous Tsaritsa.

You recall them well enough — considering that they have managed to unearth the truth of Teyvat’s existence. They came to you, offering themselves for you to indulge at the cost of recognition.

The original seven, eager as they were to meet you, were promptly shut down with a smile on your lips.

“You are not mine to claim, as my blood does not flow through any of yours’ veins.”

Suffering became an easy friend of yours.

You had gone through so much already, and your body as well as Teyvat have yet to heal and recuperate from the effects of the many wars that transpired on this world.

And here comes another one.

However, this time, someone had played the role of Icarus, and had flown way too close to a certain parasite.

It dawned on you as the familiar stinging pain seeped though your very core, breaking you once more little by little, its persistence unmistaken when you first felt it when the very first war erupted in this world.

Someone had unearthed Nibelung’s discovery of the forbidden knowledge and decided to use it.

You remember it vividly — yet another huge devastation that came to Teyvat. However, the catastrophe was marginally bigger compared to the horrid Archon war. And with the discomfort of bearing through that disgustingly painful experience, you had plunged into yet another slumber.

By the time you had awoken, you realized how deeply affected each and everyone was. Many comrades have died, some were affected, and you had come to find out that even the archons had to make some incredibly difficult sacrifices that dealt equally devastating blows to their very being.

You had little to say.

However, you have much to do.

Perhaps it was your guilty conscience that pushed you into this long journey. However, you were not guilty of being asleep while the fallen nation had wreaked havoc with their circumstances. Your guilt lied within the fact that you had never gotten to console your dragon sovereigns when they were defeated by it.

Most of them were dead, others were sealed and unable to reincarnate.

And so this was your way of making it up to them, albeit… with the archons, those who remained, and those who are now stepping up into their new responsibilities as a member of the newly established seven.

You had first visited the cold region of Snezhnaya, paying a visit to their new Cryo Archon, who has been planning something else entirely. She had willingly entertained you, despite the slight edge and tension within her. However you understood that you were limiting her desire to continue on with her plans, and so you were quick to disappear from that very nation.

Barbatos has always held you in a high regard the moment his eyes were opened to your existence. The heavenly principles call you the slumbering sloth, deeming your forced slumber and inactivity to act against the horrors Teyvat has gone through a mistake on your part as a creator.

But he deems it as a slander, and he quietly protests at the image imposed so heavily on him. He adored the freedom you had granted — giving free will to the creatures that now live on your domain, and it was that freedom that had continued to flourish within him, spurring on a belief that he had cultivated since the moment he received his gnosis.

In that tiny piece of divinity, he felt you. Quietly lurking across the lands of Teyvat, minding your own affairs without intent of reconnecting with others.

And when he and his fellow archons sought you for answers, you had little to say. Shutting them down with an indifferent gaze — no, Venti hardly calls it indifferent, the mask sure was indifferent, but there is a sense of agony that seems to seep out from that very mask.

Barbatos sleeps for eons not to gather his bearings, but to feel closer to you.

And now here he finds you in the waking world, gaze overlooking Mondstadt — currently rebuilding the life that was devastated by the cataclysm alone. His wings tuck behind him, respectful as he was as he bowed to you.

“They have it handled, Your Benevolence,” he regards you with a carefree grin on his lips, “…Humans are strong. And that freedom I’ve given them will flourish.”

“You seem so sure of it,” you respond without missing a beat.

“…They are still ignorant of you, and they do not realize that the freedom I embody is how I carry your will,” his voice comes out in a quiet purr, a reverent tone that held nothing but unadulterated adoration and devotion.

Your gaze seems too far — looking at the horizon and Barbatos wants to see what your eyes can see in this world. What perspective you have, what you think of the new Teyvat and what you think of him, carrying out your principles through his own beliefs.

“…Let us hope it is not a mistake,” you mumble, your fingers gently caressing those pristine white wings of his, and Barbatos relishes in the feeling.

He held back a wince as he felt a sharp sting from when you plucked a feather from his wing.

Barbatos had one thing to say.

“If it is your will, then it shall be done.”

You had doubts with that. You had your will — and it was done. And where did that lead you? Facing a god bearing the face of a creature that now replaced your creations.

You sucked in a sharp breath before smiling, a shallow gesture as you tucked in Barbatos’ pure white feather behind your ear.

“Mm… it shall be done,” you repeat, and a gentle breeze brushes past you. A tiny whisper and a loving kiss from the archon himself.

You accept it with a quiet hum.

Morax had more questions than the blatant adoration that Barbatos held for you. He first came to you apprehensive and tense, but you knew that he understood that he had to be around in order to get the answers he desired. He came to you with the arrogance and bravado befitting of a god.

How pathetic was it that he looked more like a god than you will ever be. But when he did, you were in a fit of deep sorrow when the heavenly principles made a mockery of your sovereigns and had given it to these new gods that prevailed mostly through bloodshed and sheer force.

He questioned your methods, Morax understood so little about your motives, about your life, about your method of creation. However arrogant and mighty as he was, he held deep respect for you still, you were the creator of the dragons that inspired him to mold his likeness into the same sort when he presented his Exuvia during his descent in Liyue.

And yet you still managed to devastate him as you first rejected him along with the first seven. Unlike Barbatos who saw agony, Morax felt the indignant resentment that enveloped your divine being, and it rubbed him the wrong way.

Morax was quick to straighten himself up, and was eager to wisen himself.

Right, he was taught to understand others.

Your legacy was infamous for losing against the heavenly principles’ divine intervention, that your sordid draconic creations were no match for the primordial one and its shades. That your era was replaced within a battle that only lasted for a few decades. And as you sat at the edge of the tall mountains that he had shaped, gracefully indulging in the tea ways away from Chenyu Vale, he could only bask in your divinity as he stood behind you, keeping a watchful gaze of your very being.

You still had that alluring glimmer that he saw when he first came to you.

An uneasy feeling grasps onto his very being. Perhaps it was the lingering trauma of being rejected by you initially that even served his cautious display now.

“…You’ve done well,” you murmur quietly. A simple, quiet praise, and Morax’s knees nearly buckled at the sheer weight. Of all the times he had been on the battlefield, none could outweigh the suffocating feeling that you suddenly imparted to him.

He feels the weight of expectations while your gaze swept over Liyue’s entirety. And Morax invites it wholeheartedly. His body gives into the sudden pressure that weighed him down, prompting him to go down on one knee, head bowed with a reverent expression.

Morax adores you so much.

“I have taken great inspiration from your creations, Your Benevolence. I have crafted them with you in mind, with how you may envision my nation to its way to prosperity.” His voice sounds like a whisper compared to your melodious echo. “It pleases me greatly to be praised by you.”

Your eyes flit to the countless mountains that were not there before. No doubt they have been shaped with the aid of Morax’s newfound authority over the land with his won authority over Geo.

“As an artisan, I must say, you have truly outdone yourself,” you quietly muse, resting the teacup between your thighs. “You have the talent, I would be remiss to not take you in and teach you few of my personal techniques.”

Morax’s breath hitched, his lips tremble, making his way towards you, half-crawling like a pest that now will surely refuse to leave your side. He had done well in his mind — redeemed himself from the foolish arrogance he once had that might have caused your blatant rejection of his being at first. But now, you were willing to let him learn from you, and that was a step far bigger than any god could have ever made.

“…Please,” he mumbled, his fingers digging into the dirt as desperation floods his mind wave after wave. “Please… please, Your Benevolence. Impart your knowledge to me. I will forever be grateful.”

Nothing could prepare him from your quiet laughter, amused by his devotion.

He is quiet, sucking in a sharp breath as he heaved a quiet sigh of sheer pleasure and relief. A genuine desire blossoms through his chest, flourishing and spreading like an illness that cannot be remedied with something remotely as simple as a handful of ground up adeptal herbs.

It took you one look to understand… that you ought not to shatter his genuine bliss. That you ought to not tell him you merely laughed in memory of the dragon who once possessed the authority that now Morax holds.

Beelzebul has always been off with you. She did not know how to feel. Adoration and the imminent desire to devote her life to you was not the first thing she had felt. Perhaps her twin sister did, Baal always did have a sense of innate fanaticism that even as her identical twin, Beelzebul could not understand.

Though she understood that when she saw Baal so utterly heartbroken after speaking so highly of you that she felt enraged. Her sister had rightfully earned her throne in the heavens, to receive that Electro Gnosis, it was hers to have with no room for argument. She had won the favor of the higher power, so why… pray tell… have you rejected someone as strong as her?

She thought you were blind to the notion of strength. She thought you were a fool — to not have seen the grace of power that Baal, that Makoto, had in her hands. For you to refuse the adoration her twin sister felt was nothing short of an insult to Beelzebul. And for a long time, she had intent to make you recognize Baal.

And then the catastrophe comes and long gone were her desires to turn your gaze towards her sister.

Traumatized, Beelzebul had little to say as she lamented over Baal’s death on that horrid war. The war that combed through Teyvat, claiming the lives of not only powerless and helpless mortals but gods like Baal fell.

On that one moment, Beelzebul casted aside her resentment, and begged for you to see just what her sister was willing to do to protect your creation. To witness the pain Baal had to go through despite her inability to curry your favor.

How ironic was it, that now, overcome with immense grief and desire to achieve the eternity Beelzebul wanted for her people, that you decided to come.

The puppet hung still, lifeless and incomplete from the waist down. Beelzebul stood by, and an odd sentiment of understanding for Baal’s fascination and love for you washes over her, as if Beelzebul was programmed to love you in an instant. Her watchful gaze never left you as you walked around, analysing the puppet Beelzebul was in the middle of creating.

Your gaze — one that Baal had longed to have — was directed at Beelzebul now.

“Your desire to reach eternity… is this puppet the answer?” You ask, “Free from erosion, everlasting puppet, made to run your territory to a perfected pace.”

Beelzebul’s footsteps echo as she closed the distance between you and her inch by inch. She becomes minutely aware of your divinity. It was like no other. It provokes the inner sanctums of Beelzebul’s physical being.

Beelzebul wants to cry.

And she wants you to hold her.

You took note of how she stepped back, before responding to you, regarding you respectfully, “…Yes, Your Benevolence.” Her eyes flit to the features of the puppet. He is hardly molded to her likeness, but it shows, beautiful and everlasting. “An eternity does not succumb to the rotting scent of gradual decay. He is a mere prototype, a test of what shall be my true creation.”

“Pity that is,” you quietly murmur. “He would have been a precious one,” you gently cupped his cheeks around your hands.

Beelzebul watched with confusion and interest as your lips press against the puppet’s forehead.

“Blessed be thy path. Return to me and you will be recognized.”

You walked towards her, the ends of your robes fluttering behind you. Her breath hitches at the feeling of your hand over her sternum, “…And may you return to me, should your pursuit come into a halt.”

It felt like a challenge, but Beelzebul does not miss her desire for it to be a mere comfort from a god who is clearly far greater than she will ever be. Undeterred, Beelzebul turns to the puppet and resigns herself into yet another long period of endless work.

There will be eternity. And at the heart of that very eternity will solely be you and her.

Buer knew the day she was born that she had huge shoes to fill in. Her predecessor was a great one, and their domain altogether was far bigger than one could imagine. Sumeru had a tall order and young little Buer had to fulfill it all on her own.

She was born into succeeding Rukkhadevata’s greatest feats, already pushed into the limelight to take over and take action over the nation that her predecessor had managed to cultivate with her compassion and wisdom. Buer was intimidated, she had enough sense to admit and accept such a fact. Buer admired her predecessor, and will continue to do so, loving her endlessly and singing praises about the hard work that Rukkhadevata had put into establishing the rule of Sumeru.

Hence, Buer finds it so difficult to find her footing. Everything she does feels so little in comparison to her predecessor’s achievements, and it was not long before a part of that adoration turns into a quiet hum of deep insecurity, seeding into Buer’s heart that forced her into a never ending cycle of pressure and admiration.

“You have so much on your mind, little one.”

Her mind clears, and she stares up into you. You — the one adored by many, and one that Buer was certain Rukkhadevata had also adored and held in such a high pedestal and rightfully so. Buer wonders how you are able to withstand the crushing weight of pressure that you probably feel on your shoulders as you carried the very fate of this world that was secured and anchored well into your body.

“Your predecessor was the same,” you continue while your fingers slowly cross strands of her hair over the other, neatly plaided. “I watched her scramble around, trying to clean up the messes that her fellow god kings have caused. I watched her get smaller and smaller, sacrificing every part of herself into clearing out catastrophes one after the other.”

Buer agrees without a word. Perhaps not even a god like you is immune to just how truly amazing the original Dendro Archon was as you sang her praises.

“The world is ill, little Buer,” you mention as you gracefully tied her hair to the side. “And when Teyvat is ill, I too suffer the same painful fate.”

No person could understand the paradoxical nature of the feelings that slowly invited itself into Buer’s heart.

She feels light from your encouragement and yet feels utterly crushed at the weight of expectations that you have placed on her, whether or not it was your intention.

Buer feels smothered by it all, and it feels so damning, so terribly incapacitating that it pains her. But Buer loves you. You came to guide her like a parent would to a child when Rukkhadevata had given her the stage to guide a region far bigger than any other archon’s claim.

“I know, Your Benevolence…” she quietly murmured.

Buer’s eyes opened, and the green tint of this prison she was in knocks her out of her daydream. Her palm presses flat against the barrier. A wave of loneliness comes over her being, and it hurts. It had only been a year or two since you came and since her capture, but she had never felt so alone in a solitary prison that Rukkhadevata once used for her own benefit now being used against her own successor.

Where are you? Are you coming back? Are you sending a champion to rescue her? How long will she stay here? A century? Five? A millennium?

Buer prays to you. She asks for an answer. An answer that you alone can possess.

The God of Wisdom seeks your knowledge in desperation, hoping you do not turn a blind eye.

From her prison of isolation, Buer could only hear the last words you have said to her;

“Happy birthday, Little Buer…”

Focalors much like the others in the same state as her had rightfully succeeded the throne of the original archons that now perished in that catastrophic event. Focalors was a mere oceanid, following after Egeria’s will as the late Hydro Archon was led into a battle that she would no longer return from. And now, Egeria’s corpse lays within the deserts of Sumeru, where the late Dendro Archon had buried and cultivated her corpse into a tree that will always be a good distance away from the very nation Egeria ruled over.

Focalors feels injustice against her predecessor now that she has shouldered the prophetic curse that the heavenly principles have decided to rule against Egeria for her sin. Her sin. Focalors’ eyebrows furrowed — was it so bad that the late archon created life? That she had desired to create humans the same way that it had done. She recalled the day Egeria was blessed with the wisdom of your existence.

A sole artisan, you, had created this world. And another one came to give birth to a new realm inhabited by humans. You were not their creator, but from your inaction, it was clear you had accepted, or at the very least tolerated humanity that now thrives on the world you have created. Egeria holds a different opinion compared to the other archons. She thought it was fair that you had rejected them initially, in a way it was your justice to refuse associating yourself with the creatures that replaced your original creations.

Hypocrites, the one that they answer to are all hypocrites.

And the feelings further exacerbate as she feels your hand press against her back. Her shoulders squared as you danced with her, a faint melody from your quiet hum was the only rhythmic guide to this romantic tango of two lonely gods.

There is a sense of longing that stews within the waters of Teyvat, Egeria once told Focalors upon receiving the Hydro Gnosis. And now that she is in close proximity with you, the feeling was overwhelmingly palpable. Her chest hurts as it tightened with every step she took, following after your flawless footwork.

This was a tragedy in the making and Focalors was eagerly participating in it.

“Does it hurt?” She asks you, adoring the serenity etched into your face as a defaulted expression. “To have your name sullied by the injustice inflicted by the winners? That no human speaks your name and sings your praises?”

You flawlessly spin her away until she comes back in your grasp, “I am in agony,” you admit with a haunting smile, mirthless and still so beautiful, “Even more as I am reliving him through you.”

The pace picks up and Focalors hurries, having little time to catch her breath as she feels an unsettling pull wash over her. There was a desire to please you, as if your request cannot be denied outright. Maybe it was the world asking her to do your bidding, or maybe Egeria had programmed this into her very core when she was created as a mere Oceanid familiar.

Before she was even aware, the humming comes to a close and Focalors was bowing like you to an audience of nothing but the endless sea and the creatures that lurked beneath it.

You tilt your head to the side, “I hope I have relayed my feelings well enough to you.” You smile at her and Focalors’ grip on your hand tightens significantly.

You don’t say it, but she feels it. She has the authority of the everlasting waters — your tears, your agony, your pain. And it drowns her further and further until it suffocates her and dissolves her being, much like the dreaded prophecy she was tasked to solve by her predecessor.

Give it back. Give him back.

He was never gone. Focalors had not met him, but she knew of his existence. She knows what you want.

Focalors was blessed with great intelligence, and knew how to kill two birds with one stone. She had thought about it. She could solve the prophecy and fulfill your wish.

Focalors was a romantic as much as she had a flair for the dramatic. She loved humanity above all but perhaps her love for you exceeds that even just for a generous millimeter.

A quiet sigh escapes her lips.

“Applaud me for my performance once it ends, Your Benevolence.” She requested in a quiet voice, and she pities herself for feeling immense satisfaction from a mere wordless nod from you.

For you, who had accepted the humanity that Focalors loves, the archon would do the same. She would accept your selfish wish and make it come true, indulge in your quiet favor, be the one you will forever love and adore even in her death.

Haborym has heard of the tales of the great one. How the very world was shaped by your divine hands, like a sculptor carving out the features of your next masterpiece. But that was only after the First Pyro Archon had gained control over the Pyro Gnosis roughly a thousand and five hundred years ago, one that uncovered the existence of a will greater than the ones that ruled over them from above.

However, most of the people of Natlan remain blissfully unaware of one of the many secrets that the lineage of Pyro Archons have known by their succession to the heavenly throne.

They were unaware of Xbalanque’s great failure in gaining your favor. The failure of the first Pyro Archon that assumed the throne. And the next archons in line that failed after it.

It was much like the pilgrimage, once an archon, not only are they tasked to care for Natlan’s delicate situation against the Abyss, their people, but also they must try again to gain your favor. It was like a tradition, an obligation even — passed down from one archon to another, seeing how they can succeed in what Xbalanque, as great as he was, completely failed at.

Perhaps you were exasperated by the constant badgering for the Pyro Archons that came before Haborym, because somehow, before she could even get to you, you had appeared before her during the havoc that Khaenri’ah’s incident has wreaked upon your lands. You came to her while she finished wringing out every bit of life of any Rifthound that threatened the lives of her people.

She had exerted much of her energy, and though she had enough energy still for more confrontations along with the revered heroes of Natlan, you had come to aid her even for a second. She felt your cooling touch that soothed any aches that rooted deep within her from the abyssal creature’s devastating attacks. She is mostly certain that any normal person would crumble into dust if they even were swiped at by one measly claw of these things.

Regardless, that was the first time you and her had met. Haborym barely registered the truth in your identity before you swiftly disappeared.

And now confusion only grows more evident in her core as she watched you, sat atop the tallest valleys in Natlan’s many plateaus. You sat, cross-legged as you watched the nation slowly recover from its terribly huge loss. You seemed lax, for someone having witnessed the lands of your creation nearly succumb to the abyss. But you were hardly fazed, with your face resting on the palm of your hand.

“…I must extend my apologies.” You finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Haborym feels a sense of camaraderie, and oddly enough, it prompts her to sit beside you. Her fellow archons — whether within Natlan or among the other nations — have always placed you on such a high pedestal. However perhaps it was because Haborym was a human before she was… well, Haborym.

But the humanity that dwelled within her thrives and connects with what she can perceive as a small island of humanity within the seas of your divinity. It was small, but it was irrational, loving, and resentful, all emotions hardly any gods, much less a higher being like you should never be bothered with.

Haborym takes a deep breath before nodding, “I accept your apology.”

She thinks she’s doing better than the preceding Pyro Archons when she heard your laughter. Somehow, Teyvat grew a little brighter upon that single moment.

“I believe I have a hand in the failure of Natlan. The reason why your nation has suffered far more devastating blows was because of the weak constitution of the leylines,” you explained, and it was not news to her. It had been the consistent problem that hung over the heads of the previous Pyro Archons, and now hers.

Haborym nods. She doesn’t ask the question of why, and patiently waits for what else you have to say.

“I am certain you don’t need any explanation, however… I created this place without factoring in the possibility of your kind’s creation. Had I known, your lands would not have been the backdoor for the darkness that threatens to consume the lives of your people.”

You smiled a little, throwing a glance at Haborym, “…You must understand, I am a creator in belief that all good things must become bad… and all bad things must become good. I believe in the equilibrium of the worlds — that all must learn the essence of balance. It is why Teyvat is my masterpiece, because it encapsulates my belief.”

“Creation must face destruction, and destruction must birth creation. That is the essence of my samsara.”

Your words felt like a hint, and Haborym’s eyes dart towards the heart of Natlan, where the Sacred Flame burns bright and hot.

And Haborym was taught from a young age that a true god’s wisdom is never something to overlook.

You had to applaud the collective effort of everyone in Teyvat. Five hundred years later and it keeps thriving from the devastating cataclysm. And now you have met a fitting champion to wield your will. Though they only wished to see their sibling.

The Heavenly Principles finally did something right in setting the stage as your challenger.

Your gaze drifts from the piece of land in the unreachable parts of the sky, down to the tea that you were wonderfully having with the bearer of your tears.

Focalors was right — her performance was unbearably long, however intensely impressive. You had honored her sacrifice with a permanent seat in the dining table of your private sanctuary nestled within the dark seas of Teyvat, where only the seats were personally crafted by you and were only enough to fit the humongous forms of the dragons that once ruled over your world.

She, among the other divinities that were not of your creation, was the first to earn your respect and genuine love.

“Is the tea to your liking?”

You still find yourself looking up on instinct just to meet the sharp gaze of the Hydro Sovereign, only to look back down to see a human being as his incarnation. Though his piercing gaze was certainly not lost on you.

“Hot enough,” you mumbled, “Bitter enough,” you added, recalling the tastes of one divine puppet that found his way back to you through your golden champion and little Buer’s rehabilitation.

Neuvillette quietly basked in the grace of your being. You had not changed one bit. He had recalled your presence when you first met him within the little tunnel on the side of Palais Mermonia during his break, and after Focalors’ final act, he was consumed with memories of you when you first descended in Teyvat.

As the bearer of your tears, he was your sole confidant, something even his fellow sovereigns envied him for all those years ago.

“…I have many questions,” he prompted the conversation, refusing this first meet to be mere session of stewing in silence and basking in each other’s presence. It was clear how dear he was to you, but his memories that eluded him suddenly came crashing down certainly gave him a terrifying and confusing time.

You had nowhere to be, and the traveler was busy with their affairs and many other adventures.

“We have all the time now,” you chuckle, watching the tiny whirlpool in your tea after stirring in a pinch of sugar. “After all, reunions are meant to be focused on reconciling with one another, like two old friends who have lost touch for… thousands of years perhaps.”

“Though I understand my… old life… was subjected into being your confidant for eons to come, I must exercise my impartiality to you.”

You laughed, amused at Neuvillette’s words. Though you respect him as a friend, nodding along. A creation could never judge a creator — it is what many among your fellow artisans have believed. But you have seen when worlds have rallied against their creator, and some have managed to kill theirs for justice or desperation.

You once walked the world of a now deceased colleague, who created a world filled with oppression, where the waters do not flow, and the pantheon of that very world have sought to fight the very god that created them in the first place.

Cruel as it was, you relished in bathing in that artisan’s never ending tears, flowing from their closed eyes as their decapitated head became the new mountain that births fresh water to their creation.

Nevertheless, for hours, you were subjected into endless questions, interrogated from left to right by the Hydro Sovereign that wanted answers more than anything. You had the key and had willingly opened the chest to him, absolving him of the troubles that might have weighed down on him once he received the Hydro Authority that was rightfully his when Focalors killed herself before his eyes.

The questioning only boils down to two questions left. Significant enough for Neuvillette to base his new opinion of you.

However you only had one proper answer for one of them.

“…Do you detest the Heavenly Father for his actions against the new order?”

You had thought long and hard about it. You wandered Teyvat for years to understand what you felt about it.

And you had the proper answer for it.

“Nibelung did what he had to do,” your eyes glazed over, and Neuvillette follows your gaze. Before he could think you were being disingenuous, you focused your attention back to him, gazing firmly into his eyes. “I had thought I felt injustice and resentment for his… foolish actions.”

You picked up the teacup, savoring the bitterness that the liquid offered.

“However I came to realize that he was desperate enough to seek the forbidden knowledge. Only then was I consumed with guilt. I mourned him and you and your brethren. Apep despised me when I visited her in the desert of Sumeru.” You recounted with a quiet hum. “I know not of what happened to the others, but I understand that my inaction may have forced his hand.”

“I feel guilt and I will prostrate myself as an apology before you if you so wish,” you offered.

Neuvillette thinks it was a coincidence when he felt the same. Him and his fellow sovereigns could have defended the world you had generously gifted them before. But a terrifying thought comes to his mind that perhaps his role as the Hydro Sovereign had him tethered to you even in his own emotions.

It was his new crisis — whether or not he truly feels guilt or if he merely shares it with how well connected he is to you.

“Please do not subject yourself in such a disgrace. You are my creator.”

“And my creations have been neglected until their death,” you countered with ease and Neuvillette doesn’t know if it was his programmed reverence that stops him from contesting you or that he also feels that your words ring true.

You stood up from your seat, walking over to him, and he basks in your presence yet again, nearly losing himself like how Fontainians before he had forgiven them dissolved within the Primordial Sea.

You pulled him in a gentle embrace, his stiff posture leaning awkwardly against your midsection as he sat still.

Neuvillette could hardly pull himself together. Your affection feels forced, an obligation that had to be done to console him, and further puzzles him if you shared his emotions or if you truly felt bad for the guilt that he claims he feels.

“…Then, if it is guilt that you feel. Do you resent humanity for flourishing in a world that does not have an allowance for their existence?”

That one, you had no answer for.

Humanity is so beautiful, but you had come to learn that you were merely tolerating them.

Neuvillette feels himself stiffen as your warm body grows cold in this one-sided embrace.

He may be the one responsible for judging the archons and the heavenly principles that had done you wrong.

But he was never the one to call the shots when judging the fate of this world.

After all, an artist can orphan their work once displeased.

Neuvillette just got you back. And he is certain that though the archons were tied within the Heavenly Principles, they desired your presence more than the ones they were expected to answer to.

You had graced him with a subtle kiss on his forehead, loving and forgiving.

“Focalors had you convinced that humanity was worth it,” you mutter, “So it must be true that they have something to offer.”

He looks up to see a small smile on your face.

Empty. Haunting. Grim.

“…If one dead god can convince you, how many do you think would it take to convince me?”

And just like the sky, your benevolence has never looked more fake.

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