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r4izx · 10 months ago

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Worth more than what you take me for.

ayato x gn!reader

summary: in which he had to choose between two people including you, in a life and death situation.

disclaimers: swearing (there's like one lol), kidnapping, ooc traveler.

4,032 words and 21,895 characters.

a/n: dayum. this took a while and i did not expect to write this much.

you've known ayato since childhood. your parents has been serving their clan for generations, being one of their most trusted allies. and you're no exception.

growing up with people with high authorities was such a privilege. you remember when you first met lord ayato and lady ayaka. they both were very the same yet so different. so elegant, disciplined and was well mature for their age. you felt some kind of barrier between you and the siblings but they turned out just as kind as they look. they were easy to converse with. naturally, after some time of serving them, you would have gotten closer. and in fact, you did. although you thought, you and ayato's relationship was... rather special.

for some reason, ayato treats you very differently compared to others. not in a bad way. he often calls you to his workplace, make you sit there and drink tea with him. he takes you out to go eat dinner at uyuu restaurant when you both have finished work. he requested you to be his personal assistant while ayaka had thoma. and because of this, you get to spend more time with him than anyone else. at the beginning, you always thought ayato would be a cold and strict person. but it turns out to be quite the opposite. okay- maybe he is more quiet and colder than others, but that's towards other people. especially to those he only has business with.

ayato is surprisingly different to what you originally thought. he would try to match your humor, often speaking informally like the way you would around your closest friends just to match with you. lately he's been spending his free time with you too. he noticed you liked tea a lot, much like him. so both of you had made it a habit to have tea at the estate's balcony while the sun is going down. watching the sunset together. it felt really romantic for you- but you quickly shook your head and remembered that to him- you're just his work partner. but is that really the case for him? because he was much more observant than you thought. especially about you. he notices any slight change in the mood with you. so there was a particular day when you were gloomy because of being so tired. but he noticed this immediately.

"Shall we take a break?"

-- and you don't know why but your heart skipped a beat when he said that. you thought it was funny-- how he would do all of this for you. and at times like these, you start to feel like a special person to him. just because he always relies on you compared to others. you thought you were special to him. until she came.

who is she? she looks so... bold and pretty. just one look at her and you can already tell she has a strong personality but has a gentle aura. her blonde hair swaying so glamorously in the wind. her otherworldly clothes making her stand out among people. the way she moves makes it embarrassing to stand beside her. she seems so... perfect in everyone's eyes. unfortunately, that includes ayato's. you don't remember having a guest in ayato's schedule when you were fixing it, so why's she here?

you found out the answer really quickly. everyone at the estate has been talking about her and... ayato lately. you don't know why though, which is weird- because as his assistant you should be the first to know about things regarding him. it's even weirder that ayato had not summoned you after work has ended. 'is this where our afternoon tea sessions end?' you thought to yourself. so you found it upon yourself to just be straightforward and ask others what's the gossip all about. luckily, there was another servant nearby. she quickly leaned closer to you and whispered.

"h-haven't you heard?... it seems that lord ayato had taken a liking to lady ayaka's guest."

you were surprised. really. it wasn't even his guest yet he bothered to entertain her. just who is she?

"who-... who is her lady's guest?" you nervously questioned.

"I heard it was... the traveler? was it? lord ayato visited her personally! they're just so perfect with eachother!- i can't help it." the servant squeals in excitement, contrary to your look in horror. you try not to make it obvious though. but you shouldn't even be feeling this way. why does it hurt? there's a sharp feeling on your chest that you just can't get out of. it just hurts to know the reason why he stopped your afternoon tea sessions, dinner hangouts, or just even talking with eachother is because of another girl! you were in no place to get frustrated since you were just a servant. nothing more, nothing less. to him.

you only see him through work now. the urge to invite him to a tea break and have a conversation with him while watching the sunset is getting stronger everyday. and who are you to resist?

"lord ayato... wou-" before you could even finish your sentence, he stopped you. your heart was beating so fast. 'oh no. did I do something wrong?' thoughts like these were circling through your mind.

"i told you to just call me 'ayato' y/n"

--and he chuckles a bit at the end. and so do you. you felt so... relieved. your worries instantly washed away. you felt at ease knowing that you are special to him. i mean- he doesn't do this with others does he?

"ah- my bad... but as I was saying, would you like to have some afternoon tea break with me? I mean, we used to do that everyday but it has been a while since we last did soo..."

and at this point you were so sure he wouldn't decline. he's been less busy this week, what could he possibly do that's far too important to even refu-

"my apologies, y/n. i've already scheduled a tea break with someone else this afternoon. maybe next time if i have the time. i promise i'll make it up to you. however, you could accompany us if you would like." and your mind. empty. the world seems like it stopped for you. not only was your only time to hang out with him gone but you were also replaced. all this time... he was with someone else. you had a gut feeling of who that someone else might be. but you couldn't hold a grudge, you have no right to.

"i-... i look forward to it." nope. you absolutely don't, look forward to it. that day will eventually come though. you just didn't expect it to come, three days later. how quick. you were filled with mixed of different emotions. you hate to admit it- but... you are jealous of who this person might be. but at the same time you're glad to just see ayato again! sadly, for work. when he summoned you, you thought-- 'oh is this finally it? will we finally hang out together again?' until you realize it's just that you will just accompany him to go to a somewhat date with someone else. compared to you and ayato just drinking tea at the estate's balcony, he had prepared so much as to have tea and snacks at the shore. alas, you could finally meet this person. once again. as you realize it was her. the traveler.

"traveler, did you wait long? i'm sorry, you could've ju..."

and their conversation went deaf on your ears. the ayato kamisato. speaking informally, and giving out tea invitations to the traveler. when it used to be you... why are you feeling like this? isn't it obvious. the traveler is way prettier, stronger and better than you. comparing yourself to the traveler is already such an embarrassing thing to do. no one could compare to her. she's out there defeating monsters and fighting archons. while you're here holding a grudge on a person who doesn't even know you just because you're jealous you were easily replaced. but who were you to be replaced when you weren't even his to begin with. this is why you feel guilty. because you think that you have no right to feel this way. it's just now that you realize how much of an overthinker you are. however your thoughts were cut short when you hear ayato calling out your name.

"y/n, i'll go to to the comfort room for a bit. please entertain the traveler while i'm away."

he says.

"understood." and so you take a seat at ayato's chair before. and despite not wanting to have a talk with the traveler, it is still your duty and you would not abandon it for just some mere feelings.

"greetings, i'm y/n. it's a pleasure to meet you traveler." you bow slightly and give the smile you usually show to guests. a smile you practiced countless of times infront of a mirror. "you might have not heard about me though. so allow me t-"

"oh i know. you're ayato's personal assistant. he mentioned it to me before." the traveler states. and you were genuinely shocked but also... curious.

"is that so?... then, has he said any other things about me before?" you nervously asked. though the nervously part may not be obvious to others. the traveler sees right through this. and she giggles. but nods. "would you mind serving me some tea? the tea ayato has been serving me is delicious however i've tasted it countless of times from our past tea parties. so I would like to have a different flavor this time."

the word 'countless' implies that they have been doing this for a while now and you already know that. but it still stirs a feeling of jealousy inside you.

"of course. luckily i brought a different tea flavor for myself as well. let me go get the ingredients from my bag." you return after brewing the tea and pouring it into the cups. how thoughtful that the traveler had already prepared the cups for you.

"this tastes a lot like lavender... melon." the traveler says.

"hm. because it is. you have a great sense of taste." you reply. from this point and so on, you don't really know what to talk about. the atmosphere is really awkward. but you still try to strike up a conversation because she is a guest.

"s-so... what brings you here to the kamisato estate?" you ask. in which the traveler replied with "originally, ayaka invited me. and ayato next." you don't know if it's just your eyes playing tricks on you or did the corner of her mouth raise upwards for a bit. you brush it off. maybe the grudge you have on her is going too far. i mean, it's not like you hate her though. but it's also not like you like her.

by now you've almost finished your tea. same goes for the traveler. you only had to endure a little bit more of this atmosphere and her because ayato should be back soon. so you lowered your guard and relaxed a bit. this whole time you only stared at your teacup, but it wouldn't hurt to take a glimpse at the traveler right? so slowly but hesitantly, you lift your eyes up to see her. already staring at you. but you couldn't break away from the eye contact. especially because she just asked you something you're also asking yourself.

"y/n. tell me. do you like ayato?"

despite having a smile on her face as she asked this, her tone was rather cold. it sent shivers down your spine. you don't know why she's asking this. but you also don't know the answer to that question.

...do you like ayato?

"I'm..."

that was the last thing you said before you went unconscious. before that, your vision went blurry and your head was getting dizzy. how could this be? all the years you've spent serving the kamisato clan, this has never happened.

a loud ringing on your ears forced you to wake up, you could hear numerous voices as you slowly opened your eyes. your vision was still blurry but you could figure out that someone was huge was standing before you.

"it's awake."

'it's? what do these people take me for'. --is what you would have thought when you realized you've been kidnapped and the kidnappers are a group of nobushis. you look at your surroundings, counting just how many they are until you finally notice someone beside you. the traveler. she's still unconscious. looking at her made you realize that you're also tied up and is unable to speak. screaming is no use. you seem to be in a... cave? you're not so sure because you don't remember a cave this huge at inazuma. you try to recall what happened and why you ended up here until you heard something a nobushi said.

"ya think he's coming here?"

"i heard he fancies these two. of course he will."

he? who's he? considering they kidnapped you and the traveler, don't tell me they're talking about him. not lord aya--

"oh well look who's here."

your eyes widen in shock when you turn to the direction they're facing. he's standing right there. ayato kamisato has come to save you. ...and the traveler. something moves beside you and you see the traveler, already awake, with tears in her eyes. isn't the traveler supposed to be strong and mighty? you don't understand, how were they able to kidnap her. in what situation was she in for her to become so vulnerable and be captured? i mean before all of this she was only with you-- !! your eyes widen. you saw ayato, ...glaring at you.

why was he glaring? you were in a pitiful situation right now, yet he glares at you as if you commited a crime. you can't believe it but... 'don't tell me thinks... i poisoned the traveler.' archons. he definitely thinks just that. the way his eyes softens as he looks to the girl beside you confirms so.

"give us the document. maybe we'll let both of them go." one of the nobushis spoke up. documents? what documents are they talking about? you handle all the documents for ayato, could it be he's been keeping something from you? are they comparing lives to a piece of document? surely ayato would-

"no. ...who sent you?" his voice cold as ice. the world has been surprising you a lot today. how important could that document be for it to be able to compare to a person's life. "straightforward i see... too bad, if you don't give us the documents any time we'll kill both of your precious little friends and this place will blow up soon." one of the nobushis spoke up again, it was the same guy as earlier. normally, ayato would be able to beat a few nobushis on his own. but he's way outnumbered right now. for some reason he knows that you and the traveler was taken here, yet he still came alone. you look beside you and see that the traveler is now crying. compared to the mighty traveler you seem to be too calm. you shouldn't be, in a situation like this. is it because ayato is now here? although he probably hates your guts already. but you just trust him way too much.

"...not giving in eh? then let's see..."

the nobushi paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about another way to make ayato give in and for them to gain something out of him. the nobushi smirked.

"...if you give us some mora... we'll let ya choose one of them to go with. give us the documents, you all can go home safe and sound. give us none and... you'll die with them." and finally, you felt... fear. your heart was racing. you didn't know it was this bad. earlier you already knew that you're this close to death's door but you weren't panicking at all. you also don't mind dying if it was for ayato. from an early age you already knew that you had to serve and protect their clan no matter what-- even if you have to pay the price of your own life. so why panic now? is it because the nobushis are going to far with their negotiations? is it because you're knocking right at death's door? or maybe it's because you're afraid that ayato will abandon you. choosing someone else, right infront of you in a critical situation like this. but surely he wouldn't, right?

" ...traveler," he throws a pouch of mora to the ground towards the nobushis. you remember when you both were strolling around at inazuma city after dinner. when he mentions that ever since he saw you looking through the stalls but not buying anything, he figured he'd buy them for you. so he always carried a pouch of mora. for you... and not for anyone el-

".. let's go." what? are you hearing things right? but judging by the way they pull the traveler and untie her, it seems that you are. but you wish you weren't. it turns out he really would choose someone else. the traveler lunges to embrace ayato. seeing ayato slowly hug her back, patting her back to calm down her tears and letting her cry on his shoulder just made your broken heart break even further. you get it. with the traveler's back facing you as they embrace, you take a glimpse of ayato until his gaze lands on you.

" ...y/n..."

his tone was somewhat... soft. you assume on a lot of things and right now you don't wanna expect but, you are. is this his last words to me? is he telling me he's sorry? is he gonna tell me how he regrets doing this? and that he never really wanted this to happen? and that i'm someone special to him, viewing me more than just a serv-

" --how dare you."

...and his gaze turns dark. what for? you didn't even do anything. his eyes glares at you as if you both were never friends. or maybe you were never really a friend to him. and he always thought of you as a mere servant. just like the rest. you were just- too naive. so foolish. thinking you were special. special just because he went looking for you and bought medicine and special rare tea in a day when you were sick for work. special cause he always invited you for tea breaks, conversing with you and only you. special because he always relies on you, and you allowed yourself to be relied on, --when you had no one to rely on for yourself. was those years of being with him nothing for him? was it that worthless in his eyes? that you could just be replaced and abandoned any time? you thought you were someone special in his life when he treated you differently compared to others.

but what about the way you treat him?

you treat him as if you were nothing without him. because he was everything to you. you were only this happy with him. only him. if you think of the most memorable memory you've ever had, it would include him. the day you first met him, and today. the last day you're seeing ayato. you watch them slowly turn their heels to leave. and all of a sudden you spoke. you couldn't help it, you spoke without even thinking. and now you don't know what to say. or maybe-- you just don't want to say it.

"a-ayato..." 'did you ever think if me as more than a friend?'... heck- more than a worker even. you wanted to ask just that. but you wouldn't. cause you couldn't. "...thank you, but I did nothing wrong." you say as you smile. that was your final words before the traveler and ayato takes more steps towards another path, probably leading to the exit. you hesitantly and slowly lift your eyes up to take one. last. look to ayato and... the traveler. and last time your eyes were playing tricks on you, but now you realize it wasn't. cause she was smirking again. smirking at you. leaving you to death.

anger. shame. resentment.

fury rises inside of you. you were raised to be patient with others. it was your job. so you've never felt this way for someone before. you wanted to scream but you couldn't. all you could think about was the traveler.

...the traveler!! the traveler!! the traveler.

it was all because of her that you're in a state like this. ever since she came, things changed. she was the person ayato replaced you with. the person he chose to spend the rest of his life with. and the reason why he threw away all of his memories with you and treated you like nothing. he chose a girl he just met instead of a childhood friend companion who has done nothing but pledge loyalty to him. now that you think about it... for ayato you would risk your life for him, die for him even. but he wouldn't do that for you. he only showed up for the traveler when you thought he came to save you.

it felt like your world was crumbling right before your eyes, watching them walk away, leaving you to death. you could mean that literally since anytime now you might be reduced to nothing but also... ayato is your world. to you he is everything. growing up with him, growing with him. he really is that special to you.

too bad,

he doesn't even see you as anything more than a servant. to him you were, not. special. at. all.

their footsteps has slowly faded away. they left. they've left you. behind, to die. it seems... this is it. you hear the nobushis chuckling and talking amongst eachother,

"geez... what a show! anyway.., are the preparations complete?"

"really? then we could go!"

"where did she say we would meet her again?"

"that bitch... making us do all of this. if it weren't for the mora then I wouldn't have agreed."

her? who's her? who's she? these thoughts seem all too familiar, and once again, you got your answer quickly.

"oh the traveler asked us to meet her at jinren island." a nobushi replied. just when you thought your hatred for her couldn't get any worse. however your thoughts were completely cut off when the nobushis all started leaving you. not even batting a single eye. you remembered them mentioning something that would leave you to ashes here. what was it again? if you recall quickly it was probably a-- "a bomb," --a nobushi says to you. as if he could read your mind. "a few minutes from now, once we all leave, this place will get wrecked. including... you." the nobushi laughs. you have never been this lonely before. i mean, you always had ayato beside you. but now that he personally left you for someone else- who do you have now? you have no answer for that. or maybe it is the answer. nothing. no one is there to help you. your reason to live is gone. atleast, you served your life's purpose before you die. you were never really that close to others including your family because of ayato. so you have nothing to lose now. but... you wish you could atleast take revenge on the traveler... even though you hate that idea. revenge isn't something you would even consider but.. the traveler is a different case.

today has given you particularly a lot of last things. like your last thoughts just now. before feeling a strong burst of energy and the brightest light you've ever seen. and everything turns dark.

...your eyes are closed and you can't move your body. but you're hearing something... footsteps? oh, a voice.

" ...how pitiful,"

you fall into deep sleep once again after feeling such an electrifying strike on your back.

... just who was that?

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #genshin angst #rai! ✍️#genshin one shot #genshin oneshots

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murmuree · 1 year ago

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self defence 101

#furina’s demo was kind of incredible ngl #genshin impact #genshin #neuvillette #genshin impact fanart #genshin fanart #fontaine #my art #man got hit with the nutcracker #this is what childe would’ve been up againts if he hadn’t gotten one shot

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kinichval · 1 month ago

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sometimes you can't fathom why the dearest heir of the kaedehara clan would sneak out off the elders' sight just to pick flowers with you on a normal wednesday afternoon.

he has his life sorted out in front of him, all he has to do is to follow the footsteps of his predecessor and learn how the system flows.

but kazuha would rather stutter in making excuses just to get out of his classes or beg their servants to play along his little cover just so he can dash out of the mansion...

on his way to you.

the risk this man is willing to take just to be here baffles you, but he only cracks a (lovely) laugh whenever you scold him for once again fooling the clan higher-ups.

"you can't always risk your life for me!"

"but i want to be with you."

"what if they'll punish you?"

"then i'll just endure it and come back to you."

when kazuha smiles, his eyes create crescents. your hand reaches to cup his cheek, your eyes revealing your devoted love for him. he leans in to your touch and closes his eyes. the breeze smells of freedom for being in your solace is what freedom feels like for kazuha.

because he can just be kazuha with you, the kazuha you choose to love.

"you want this idiot right, yn? you know i'll always be here."

#kval — spike rush.#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha imagines #kazuha drabbles #kazuha fanfic #kazuha one shot

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c6jpg · 11 months ago

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Well? Have I convinced you yet?

#genshin #genshin impact #genshinedit #genshinet #xianyun #cloud retainer #m:gifs #m:*#m:gifs:cloud retainer #i just realized she said have i instead of has one.... hmmm....#not sure if i'll gif anything else from this demo tbh... there are some small shots i really like #but not enough to make a coherent set bc otherwise it's mostly just her twirling every 0.2 seconds LMAOO #and it's too chaotic to do my usual 3x2 ones #also for this at first i was gonna also include the shot of her smiling up bc IT STOLE MY HEART <3333 #but this coloring actually looks awful there adfjklasdfj #i also had to change up my vapoursynth settings for once bc the artifacts from sharpening were real bad here #mostly bc they went full bloom filter on her face and her glasses contrast against it as a really hard edge for vs #tldr; this demo is process-wise hard for me to gif ajdlkajfs

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saintkunii · 1 year ago

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Weighted Blanket

PAIRING. Diluc x F!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, morning sex, pronebone, crossposted from ao3 (I'm reposting my old works here again)

WC: 1.5k

MINORS DNI

You're drowning in a sea of red, limbs trapped under a heavy weight. You couldn't move your arms, you could barely move your legs, it's too constricting for you to even lift a finger. Groggily, you stir in an attempt to break free.

"Diluc…" your voice comes out hoarse and whining, forehead crumpled in a frown as you pull your arms from underneath your husband's hold, caging you as he lays on top with his face nestled against your neck. His arms are on your sides, so close that he doesn't even leave any space for maneuver, too close that the warmth of his every exhale almost lures you back to sleep. The cold weather makes him an even effective personal heater.

"...hm."

The vibrations of his chest as he hummed in response tickled your skin. He feels so comfortable in his position as he stays still at the cost of your own personal space and possible asphyxiation like he has no plans of moving anytime soon.

Diluc gets especially clingy in the morning, in the haze of a peaceful dawn. It’s not an unusual occurrence and as much as you love him and the thought that he can relax in your presence, you'd rather not want to die in his arms no matter how honorable it seems.

Crushed to death by a dashing man doesn't seem too good as your obituary.

"...luc" you called out again in a more slightly irritated tone. "...hmmvy."

You try to convey that he's crushing you with his weight but the sleepiness slurred your speech.

He nuzzles further into your neck, nose brushing against your skin and he inhales.

You wiggle in place trying to escape again when you feel him tighten his grip.

"Stop moving…" he whispers, tone heavy with sleepiness as well as he presses some kisses on your neck.

"...off"

For what felt like forever, you're finally granted amnesty from the burden of your husband as he rolls aside without breaking his embrace. He presses your back against his chest as you turn to your side to doze back again to dreamworld.

Silence falls once more. Only the sound of your soft breathing can be heard and the tickle of the grandfather clock that lays a couple of feet away.

If only it was that easy.

Diluc seems to entertain another plan as he slides a hand under your shirt, rough and calloused palm circling your stomach before it trails upward to your boob, squeezing it with barely any strength. It's like he's toying with it, fondling so softly and taking his time as you snore in your sleep. With your feet tangled, he pushes his thighs up bumping it against your ass and he couldn't help himself from grinding his hips, slowly and lazily rubbing his cock against the fats of your flesh.

You relax comfortably in his robust arms, tethering between dreams and reality as warmth blossoms on your abdomen. A sigh leaves your lips when you feel him behind you.

It feels so cozy to lay perfectly like this on a sunday morning. A day where both of you have no need to be up early.

Drowsiness kept your eyes shut but you swore you felt your husband on your neck again, his chapped lips planting kisses everywhere he touched. His lips would stay on your skin for a while there as he breathes down on the curve of your neck.

The gentle rocking of his hips only spurned you on, succumbing you to his intentions. With your eyes still closed, you covered his knuckles with your hand, interrupting his kneading, and brought it down to your sex where he cups you through your flimsy shorts.

Diluc dips his finger through the bands of your shorts and slides to the entrance of your hole.

You're a little wet. Not enough for him so he gathers up some of your slick, spreading it within your folds as he deliberately swipes your clit.

He draws out a sigh from you at the contact, almost a moan, probably a whine too as he massages, softly and casually.

The nonchalance almost made you forget about the growing hardness pressed closely on your bum.

You blink a few times, head turning to your side. Like you, he's barely even awake.

Even as he feels you stir, he only cracks an eye at you and latches on your lips, mouth hot and sloppy as he parts them.

Diluc is a gentle soul, the thought of you warmly snuggled in his embrace has him spill his entirety in your caress.

Not a word is exchanged. You didn't have to as you talk with your body. He's familiar with it, knows all the places that make you squirm in heat, has unlocked all the areas you're not even aware could make you melt. He had done this countless times and yet he could never really satiate his hunger to feel more of you, to make you feel whole, and to see you at your most vulnerable state, laid bare for him to worship. He knows just where exactly to touch.

You hum against his lips when he pokes a finger inside you, loosely stroking your walls at a snail pace. He drags it, unbothered by your thighs clamping his hands.

He's patient in his ministrations, kissing your supple lips in fervent fashion laced with the haziness of morning. He taps and rubs almost like he's scraping your insides. The pleasure running all over you brings you in and out of your drowsy state, waking you every once in a while. From the sighs he hears from you, Diluc can tell you're quite enjoying this yourself even if you're merely reacting from his actions out of instinct.

A soft gasp comes from your mouth when he joins another finger in, scissoring you as he stretches you out slowly. Heaving more than ever, his breath becomes more laborious, panting in your kiss and his strokes pick up pace, dizzying, electrifying, heat pools in your legs as you gush around his fingers.

It's hot. Your whole body trembles as your tongues crossed, saliva joining in your messy kisses, tongue to tongue proding each other's mouth.

You're almost there. The ghost of your climax hovering just around.

But before you catch that relief, he pulls his fingers out, pushes down the garters of his boxers to free his erection, and you whine at the lost contact.

You arch your back towards him, ass rubbing against his hips in anticipation. Using your fingers, you stretch yourself wide open for easy access to your husband.

You feel the burning touch of Diluc's tip pushing past your entrance. His cock throbs as he sinks deeper into your cunt, bottoming out with one languid stroke that has you stretching your toes at the intrusion. He groans, quaking as he puts his weight again on you, pressing you until you lie on your stomach, face buried against the sheets, and keeping you closer to him. His legs are on your side trapping your thighs.

Soaking in the high of your whines and breathy gasp of his name from your lips, he moves his hips in a tender roll, slow and careful but with more focus on your sweet spot.

He nips along the column of your spine. Affectionate brushes of his lips spill from his being as he marks your nape with his bites that you shiver. He pants raggedly along your neck as he fluidly pushes forward inside you and out again, carving deeply into you.

The delicious stretch of your hole got you sucking him in that it's all you could think about. The feel of his touch, the weight of his body on you, skin slapping skin.

Diluc's rough palms come to your hips and ruts into you, drawing a deep guttural sigh once in a while as you lay weakly under him, your hands fisting the covers as it drowns your ecstasy. You're so tight in this position, pulling him even further in at how easily he can reach your gspot like this. Every hit makes you roll your eyes in euphoria, and arc yourself to the mattress at how good he feels, spasming around his length that sets him off the edge.

He hastens, rocking his hips with more shallow thrusts and fucks into you even more deeply, drilling his cock inside completely covered in your slick. With every thrust he punches out your breath from your lungs.

You're losing your mind, completely overridden by the sensation of his veiny cock rubbing along your walls. You can almost feel your climax. It hovers around you as your abdomen tightens and heat stretching all over you.

Diluc twitches forward with more fervor at your signs and slaps his hips against yours more frantically, his breathing erratic and cuts short with his pacing. With a low mewl from you, your knot comes undone as you get your release, his hips thrusting into your twitching cunt. He stutters in his ruts and hot white of cum spurts inside you, releasing his load inside your warmth. It drips down into the bed, making a mess of the covers.

Muscles relaxing, Diluc bends down to kiss you, sighing into your mouth as you feel him soften inside you, twitching as you spasm. And with a hum, you feel his lips curve into a soft smile.

"Good morning."

You let out a chuckle.

"Good morning."

#✧| written works: one shots #diluc smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader smut #diluc x reader #genshin smut

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jhuzen · 2 months 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.

�� 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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tetsuskei · 10 months ago

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lust for life - zhongli [nsfw]

synopsis: your first time with the geo archon leads to a riveting adventure that you never dreamed of, but also don’t regret

notes: this is the first time i’m writing for zhongli and genshin, so please be nice. i apologize for anything potentially ooc. i’m learning. :]

warnings: praise kink, dragon tendencies (?), unprotected sex, pet names, zhongli is called morax, lana del rey song title, body worship, liyue archon quest spoilers

word count: 2.4k

interactions and comments appreciated!

being in a relationship with zhongli is exhilarating. it is calm and a rush all at the same time. invigorating, perhaps.

liyue, the city of contracts, is always bustling with something new and exciting each day. the harbor specifically hails as a place that showcases the customs and traditions in the most beautiful ways.

the smell of freshly made grilled tiger-fish and chopped suey perfuming the air, and the shine of the beautifully crafted kites the nice old lady sells only make up a few traits the harbor carries. there’s also the bustle of the shops, selling different types of flowers and fruits and jewels ranging from jade to lapis.

as much as liyue is your home, there couldn’t be a better place of solace than in your boyfriend.

over the course of knowing him, he’s taught and shown you many things. and one of those things just happens to be the way of love. you have never been that involved before in a romantic relationship before he came along. but once he did, you could barely remember what life was like before him.

being that zhongli is now ‘mortal’, there are many things about him that still stand out from regular human beings. of course, this all makes sense when considering his reptilian nature at hand.

his eyes, a piercing aurelian color are a stark contrast to any other pair you’ve seen. they closely resemble two pieces of raw cor lapis.

the man is large—not necessarily very muscular, but lean and slender in all the right ways. he’s also a lot taller than the average person, having you crane your head up at times just to hold decent eye contact with him.

you often were bashful and easily embarrassed in front of zhongli, but he only ever has been very understanding and patient. a wise and well respected man with an eclectic taste for history and knowledge. there’s nothing about him that isn’t amazing.

“is this okay?”

zhongli’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. the gravel of it warms your tummy and sends shivers down your spine. his eyes seem to be looking through you in tantalizing yet understanding way.

“you seem conflicted over something. what’s troubling your mind, darling?” he inquires, tilting his head to the side. his obsidian locks, ends dipped in pure bronze, cascade down his back beautifully and you wonder if there’s ever anything this man does that could be deemed unattractive.

he asks these questions all while kneeling in front of your leaking cunt. like your nude body isn’t completely visible and vulnerable before him. but murmurs of your beauty and rarity cause you to relax and confess your thoughts.

“i just—“ you pause, apprehensive, “i’ve never done this before.”

there’s a look that flashes in his eyes, but only for a brief moment before changing to contemplation. “ah, i see.”

heart racing, you think that he’s about to pull out of the moment you two share. that he’d judge you for your lack of experience.

the feeling of a gloved hand on your cheek makes your heart skip a beat. “there’s nothing to be worried about. i will make extra sure to go at your pace. as long as you still trust me to lead, of course. i will make sure you’re comfortable, dearest.”

zhongli kisses the inside of your thigh, peering at you with subtle glee. to tell the truth, his mind can’t help but think of all the ways he’d tease and break you. but you don’t need to know that—at least not yet. when the time comes he’d explore that. for as long as he’s lived, waiting is something that doesn’t concern him. your wellbeing will always come first.

“okay…” you breathe, spreading your legs more for him at his request.

“always so precious and good for me, are you?” he hums with delight. your face blooms with heat but you nod meekly.

he continues, “you’ll tell me what you like, yes? while i eat this cunt out?”

your boyfriend’s blunt words strike your heart (and core) all at once.

zhongli squeezes your thighs in warning, “i need a verbal response, or i will stop.”

“yes, li.” you murmur, sending him a nervous grin.

“thank you, my love.” he smiles before moving over you. a ghostly sigh leaves you as his hands caress you hips, holding you in place with little effort.

his tongue, unusually long, sneaks out and swipes at your core. there’s a hum of satisfaction once your essence hits his buds. after tediously circling the outside of your leaking hole, it plunges forth within you.

even with it being the first time, you’re sure the wet muscle reaches places that no one besides him ever will, and you gasp, hands moving to grasp anything to ground yourself.

“z-zhongli—!” you stutter, words and lungs failing you all at once.

zhongli entwines your hands, squeezing gently to calm you. his free hand, however, only moves over your clit to rile you up further.

he hums again, satisfied with what you gift him when more of your juices evade his tongue.

“it’s been a long time since i’ve tasted something this sweet.” his lithe fingers continuing their motions as he attentively watches your reactions. “i think my tongue will always remember the way you taste.”

your hips have somehow found a way to ride his tongue and he assists by nearly having you fuck yourself on his face.

“i-i-!” you’re unable to warn zhongli of anything as you feel yourself succumbing to a realm of euphoric pleasure, seizing in place. your eyes roll back, and you find yourself facing a blinding light. you wonder if you’ve just died right now and then.

but as soothing hands caress your being and plant kisses on your cheeks, you realize you’re very much still on teyvat.

“ahh, so that’s what you look like cumming.” the archon’s eyes gleam and a hungry look flashes in them. “who knew how beautifully ravishing you’d look.”

not a moment passes before his fingers are on you again, and he slides in two digits.

“i’m sensitive, li! please!” you whine, hands grabbing his wrist.

“you’re doing so well though,” zhongli praises, his tone sweet like nectar. his normally stoic expression to no surprise, is nonexistent with you. the only visible look is love and adoration. “you can cum again, hmm? don’t you think you deserve it?”

tears slip down your face as you nod frantically, “yes!”

his eyes brighten at the way you squirm and try to conceal your whimpers. it’s only then does he realize he must toy with you even further.

the fingers that stilled themselves move again. the sound of lewd squelching filling the room. zhongli doesn’t know how much longer he can hold off before fucking you. the smell of your arousal is overwhelming, to say the least. and dark thoughts of wanting to breed you start to consume his mind.

regardless, you still needed to be prepared to take him. it would be no good if you were uncomfortable.

he works to bring you thus forth to another orgasm, his hand skilled and dexterous as it seeks to pleasure you.

“feels so good li! r-right there!” you gasp, arching up to follow his movements.

a hand soothes your hair and you feel his lips kiss your forehead. “relax dearest, you’re tightening up. just let go.”

it isn’t long before you’re cumming again. losing strength, you collapse fully on your back. you hear your boyfriend chuckle as he sucks the gloves of his fingers clean from your essence.

after giving you time to recover, zhongli gently runs his hands over you.

“darling, why don’t you help me undress. hmm?” he coaxes, moving back to begin to peel off his robes.

you sit up, wobbling as you kneel in front of him and he drags your hand up to his collar.

zhongli leans down, kissing you on the lips. he tastes of whatever tea he’s recently had. and of, well, you.

soon, your boyfriend is undressed, and archons (albeit, him himself) could only tell how it is possible for someone to be so beautiful and handsome, his figure lean and muscular in all the right ways.

it makes you feel weak in the knees how easy it is for zhongli to command attention and control. the way you’re pliant to his will because of how strong he is, allowing for him to hold your jaw in place as his tongue explores your mouth.

the feeling of something heavy and hard against your stomach makes your heart drop. there is no mistaking what it is.

as if sensing your distress, he pulls back from you. “what’s wrong, dear?” he grabs himself, stroking leisurely as he eyes you with quiet mischief.

you swallow, eyes having trouble leveling with his, “w-will it fit?”

you’re cute. too cute, for him. “of course darling,” he taps the head on your drenched clit, the tip catching easily onto your entrance.

“you were made to take me, after all.”

there isn’t anything else said once he sheathes himself fully inside of you.

shared moans fill the room as you both stare at each other for a moment. zhongli is hot and throbbing inside of you, and that alone has you cumming again.

“goodness,” he huffs, composing himself, “you are more sensitive than i thought.”

“ahh-sorry!”

“no need to apologize. it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” zhongli murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“i’m going to move now, love.” he warns, voice soft.

you nod solemnly, squeezing his hand as a sign of goodwill.

it’s all odd at first, with how full you are, but eventually the discomfort becomes more pleasure than anything else. the way his cock is stroking your walls, hitting every crevice with a kiss, soon has you keening.

grunts fill your ear as zhongli’s pace slowly picks up over time. you think you might be somewhere in the clouds above mt. tianheng.

your boyfriend’s frame cocoons your own. he fucks you like he’s yearned you for eternity. as if he’s been preparing for this moment. his hips move like flowing water, skilled all around.

zhongli’s sharp canines bite into your shoulder, a low growl leaving him as he marks you. he doesn’t mean to blemish your beautiful skin, but the primal part in him can’t help himself.

your moans are like a melody to him, and he thinks he may drown in them and the way that they sound. he starts to think that maybe you yourself are some deity or maybe a siren with the way you have him under your spell.

“li, please, go faster!” you beg, looking up at him with wet eyes, “i-i can take it, i promise!”

“are you sure that’s what you want? i won’t be able to fully hold back if you ask that of me.” he warns.

“yes, please!” you whine, “please, morax!”

before you know it, he’s kissing you again, the sweet taste of him elevating your focus away from the now ruthless snap of his hips.

he gifts you his fingers in your mouth once his lips move over your collarbones and breasts, tongue wrapping around the sensitive nub while his free hand twists the other.

“you must be a gift from celestial to feel this good.” zhongli moans. he’s holding you in his lap now, moving you up and down his shaft just how he likes.

“have you got one more for me, love?” he pants, “then i’ll take care of you and let you rest.”

you find yourself crying out for morax repeatedly, and it sendings an unknown exhilarating feeling down zhongli’s spine. maybe because it’s the thought that no other god could save you but him.

“m’cumming!” you cry, once again clamping down on the man with a vice like grip.

zhongli shudders, trying to keep his focus on you coming undone, “i don’t think i can hold back much longer myself. where—“

“inside. please cum inside me!” you wail, twisting your legs to lock around him.

“fuck,” he curses, not meaning the slip of his tongue. but that’s just what you do to him. “a-are you certain? do not say things based on what you think i wish—“

zhongli does not expect for you to pout up at him with big, wet eyes and say, “you don’t want to cum in me?”

frozen, he blinks slowly at you. then, there’s the sound of a dark chuckle, almost inhumane. “you don’t know, do you?”

“how i’ll give you anything you want? you can ask for the stars and they’re yours.” he groans, hips erratic again. he’s smothering you with his mouth again, moving everywhere to kiss every inch of you. your legs are folded up and placed over his shoulders, pressed tightly against yourself.

he swears, “i’ll cherish and love you till death. contract or not, i vow to never break that word.” even in the afterlife.”

“that being said, i’ll cum in you as many times as you want.”

you cum at his words, sobbing from the tsunami emotions and feelings that’s hit you.

it isn’t long before zhongli follows, an exceeding large warmth and throbbing as he spills himself into you.

he holds onto you tightly, refusing to move until he’s sure that his cum has settled within you.

slowly pulling out and putting your legs back down, he examines you fully. “are you alright?

the smile you give is hazy. “golden.”

“don’t leave.”

he frowns, tongue clicking, “darling, you must let me clean you up at least. i can’t bear to leave you—“

“just for a moment!” you pout, burying your face into his damp chest. “i promise.”

“a moment.” he repeats, chuckling. soothing your hair.

in all honesty, a part of you liked having him leak down your legs, and maybe he enjoyed it to. for him, in all the years of his life he’s never felt a love like this before. he just did his best to show appreciation.

if this is how he’d sing words into your ears, how his affection would wrap around, you would very well get used to this. to a routine.

but then again, a zhongli without surprises doesn’t seem fitting for you at all.

after all, ‘normal’ isn’t even as common as we think it is.

tagging my beloved @hwaitham. thank you for always supporting me and for being so loving and welcoming. <3

#zhongli x reader #zhongli one shot #genshin x reader #genshin one shot #zhongli smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact oneshot

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himasgod · 2 months ago

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masterlist! +

(Welcome to my masterlist where I include all my works to make them more accessible! I update it every day with new works, so remember to save it or review it frequently!)

REQUESTS are open and WELCOME, so don't be shy!

(Remember that I write about all the characters except the child model ones, so if there are any that aren't here, I'll eventually include them!)

MONDSTADT CHARACTERS

"Love is like the wind through the vineyards: free, light, and willing to change course if the heart so dictates."

LIYUE CHARACTERS

"Love, like stone, endures; but also like jade, needs patience to reveal its true splendor."

INAZUMA CHARACTERS

"In a storm of eternity, love becomes the lightning that illuminates even the darkest night."

SUMERU CHARACTERS

"Love is a knowledge as deep as the ocean and as mysterious as the silence of a forest under the stars."

FONTAINE CHARACTERS

"Love flows like water; its beauty lies in its constant movement and its ability to sculpt even the hardest stones."

NATLAN CHARACTERS

"Love burns like a flame in battle: intense, indomitable, and willing to consume everything for that which it deems worthy."

HERE, is a little presentation about me in case you want to know me a little more <3

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mooniiify · 3 months ago

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signora's wrongdoings | tartaglia x reader

synopsis: signora could't let tartaglia get distracted during his important mission in liyue, even for live-changing news word count: 2k cw: fem! reader, use of y/n, angst to kinda fluff, mentions of pregnancy, children, not proofread notes: i'm a sucker for family man tartaglia y'all don't get it

It had been a long year for the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. Tartaglia had been dispatched to Liyue, sent to retrieve the Geo Archon's Gnosis, which he had been unsuccesiful at, for which La Signora had to step in. Then he'd been sent to Inazuma after Scaramouche had stolen the Electro Gnosis and fled, never to be found again.

La Signora had been the one with the task to retrieve the Gnosis, only for her to meet her end during the mission.

That was the only reason why Tartaglia was now walking down the snowy streets of Snezhnaya, having just attended her funeral, which in truth, he didn't much care about. He couldn't decline attendance, of course. But there's always two sides to look at.

Tartaglia couldn't help but be in a good mood as he made his way down to his familiar neighborhood. Children ran around, playing in the snow despite the harsh temperatures, laughing with rosy cheeks. It was cute. Tartaglia wondered if his little brother Teucer was also somewhere among the kids, but he had a different objective first.

He made it to his house, one he'd purchased two years ago. The blinds were pulled open and Tartaglia could see a few dirty dishes in the sink. He smiled at the sight, taking his keys out to unlock the door.

The worries started dissipating from his body as soon as the warmth hit him. He'd expected the house to be empty, truly. After recieving no word from her for almost a full year, he'd thought she'd left, and he couldn't come back to check. He would've understood her. He would've hated her decision, yes, but he was busy and the Tsaritsa was his top priority. Despite all the love he held for her.

Still, she was obviously still here. He couldn't wait any longer.

''Y/n? Are you home?'' He called as he took off his heavy coat, hanging it on the rack. There were two more, one he recognized to be Y/n's because he'd bought it for her just before he'd left for Liyue. The other one was oddly small. Tartaglia furrowed his brows, but before he could think further, he heard footsteps rushing from somewhere further in the house.

He walked into the living room, just to see her standing on the other side of the door, both hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, her eyes glazed as if she was about to start crying. Tartaglia couldn't help but laugh, immediately wrapping his arms around her.

Once he felt her arms engulf him, too, he knew he was home.

His nose was buried in her hair as she squeezed him tightly. He rubbed cirlces with his thumb on her side, trying to enjoy the moment as best as he could. ''You're back.'' Her voice was but a mere whisper, but Tartaglia still heard it, his chest warming up.

''I'm back, princess.''

They stood like that for a moment, in the middle of the doorway. Then it seemed as if something had struck Y/n, something that made her push him back, making his eyes go wide. ''No, I'm supposed to be mad at you. I haven't heard from you in months. Neither has your family. We were all starting to think you're dead! Why the hell haven't you been answering our letters, Ajax?''

Tartaglia furrowed his eyebrows. ''Hold on, slow down.'' He took a step closer, catching her elbows. His eyes softened as he observed her face, the current crease between her eyebrows, her narrowed eyes and pouty lips. Oh, how much he'd missed her. ''I never got any letters.''

It was Y/n's turn for her eyes to widen. ''What?'' She breathed out. She shook her head, grabbing his arms. ''No, that's not possible. I've sent you countless of letters, I wrote to you every other week. I sent them off specifically with that Fatuus you ordered to get our mail to send to you. He never . . . he never said you weren't recieving letters!''

She was shaking her head in disbelief as Tartaglia's eyebrows furrowed. He thought back to when he'd first arrived at Liyue. Letters were coming steadily, every other week as Y/n had said. Then he remembered them stopping once his mission got more heated, once he got more work. Once when . . .

Tartaglia closed his eyes, letting out a breath, trying to calm down the bubbling emotions inside him. There was no longer anyone to actually direct them to, after all. ''Signora must've been interfering in my mail. She was there, in Liyue and Inazuma, and she kept telling me not to get distracted and focus on my mission, I . . . I never thought she would be doing something like this behind my back.'' He caressed her face, feeling her lean into his palm. ''I'm sorry, princess.''

Y/n sighed. ''I'm sorry for getting mad, I just━'' He watched her visibly gulp, her eyes moving frantically, looking anywhere but at him. ''Something happened, Ajax, and I tried to tell you through all those letters but if you never got them there's no way you'd know but━''

''Y/n.'' Tartaglia caught her face with both hands, making her finally look at him. ''Calm down. What happened?''

''I know this is going to be . . . a lot to take in, Ajax,'' Y/n said as she took one of his hands in hers, giving it a tight squeeze. Tartaglia felt a pit forming in his stomach. ''Something really big happened. When I tell you . . . or, well, show you . . . please, stay calm and please don't . . . get mad or anything. If you don't want it, that's okay, I just━''

''You're starting to scare me, Y/n.'' Different thoughts started filling his head. Was she in danger? Was she leaving him? Had she found another lover? He was biting the inside of his cheek hard, trying to not voice such depressing thoughts.

Y/n removed his hands from her, taking a step back. ''Stay here. I'll be back in a second.''

Tartaglia did as told, standing in the middle of the living room, listening to her shuffling and whispering in the other room. He wanted to investigate, but he stayed put, instead taking in his home.

It was the same as he'd left it. The couch was there, the big red throw blanket over it as usual. What caught his attention was a smaller baby blue blanket hanging over the couch's armrest. His eyes travelled further, seeing another smaller blanket on the ground, though that one was red.

There was a baby bottle on the small table in front of the couch. Pacifiers right next to it. A few small pieces of clothing were folded on the armchair, the clothing dryer still open near the fireplace, a few pairs of small socks still hung on it.

''Y/n?'' Tartaglia called as he took in the sudden changes around the house. His heartbeat was accelerating, and the warm room suddenly felt too hot.

Footsteps made him turn back to where Y/n had left from, only to see her back. This time, she wasn't alone. A small bundle was in her arms, a little hand peaking from under.

Tartaglia wasn't sure if he was dreaming. Maybe he was going to wake up back in his small, lonely apartment in Liyue.

''Y/n, what━''

''Ajax.'' Y/n stopped in front of him, allowing Tartaglia to peek down at the bundle. ''Meet Artem.''

The first thing he noticed were the baby's big, blue eyes, matching his own perfectly. Then it was the orange hair, just a shade darker than his. The baby stared up at him, his little hand curled into a fist. He took notice of the blanket, remembering his mother having used it for him and his siblings.

It felt like the world stopped for a second. Y/n was there, in their house, where baby items lay scattered all over, holding a baby that looked just like him, swaddled in his family's blanket. He blinked once, twice, but the scene didn't change. His eyes only grew wider.

''I found out I was pregnant about two months after you left.'' Y/n said as she looked down at the baby, holding onto its tiny fist. ''I wrote to you about it, asking you what to do and when you would be back. I didn't get the answer, so I'm guessing that's when the letters stopped coming for you. I told your family, so they tried to contact you as well, but to no avail. They've been helping me so much and I'm so thankful for that. I wouldn't have managed without them, really.''

Tartaglia still stood stunned in front of her, his eyes stuck on the baby. Artem yawned, nuzzling his head in the blanket as his eyes closed, the blue disappearing.

''I don't know how you feel about this, but I don't . . . blame you if you don't want any part of it. I know it's a big change, and I understand how shocking it must be coming home to a whole child. If you need some time to think, that's perfectly fine.''

Tartaglia blinked. At her odd words, he finally managed to look at her, their eyes meeting. ''I'm a . . . dad?''

Y/n took a deep breath. There was no smile on her face, though she wasn't frowning, either. Tartaglia couldn't read her. ''Yes, Ajax. You are.''

His mouth dried up. Tartaglia couldn't describe what he was feeling at the moment, for he has never felt like this in his life. His chest was thight, his heart beating so quick he thought it would breath through his ribcage. He opened his mouth, though no sound came out.

What was happening? His child, the one he'd found out about mere moments ago, was right there, right in front of him, cradled in the arms of the love of his life. Why was he stuck? Why couldn't he speak, move, react in any way? Why was this harder than facing a thousand enemies? Than facing the otherworldly Traveler?

He licked his drying lips and took a breath, gathering all the will-power he had, fighting through his body's state of shock. ''Can I hold him?''

The corner of her mouth lifted up. ''Of course.''

Tartaglia opened his arms, watching as Y/n placed the delacate baby in his arms. He was terrified he would drop him, so he tightened his arms, though not around the baby. He moved his arms as his mother had taught him back when his siblings were younger, keeping the head supported. The baby didn't stir, and Tartaglia watched as his small chest lifted the blanket with every breath he took.

Holy fucking shit.

Tartaglia was a ruthless man, the Eleventh Harbinger, one of the Tsaritsa's strongest. That meant he couldn't cry, not in a high position such as his. Regardless, in the safety of his own home, with the two most important people in his life, he couldn't stop as a tear rolled down his cheek, falling down on the baby's blanket.

''I'm sorry,'' he whispered as he turned to Y/n, to the one most dear to him, putting a hand on her cheek as his other one firmly held his child. ''I'm sorry, I didn't know, if I'd known I would've been back in an instant, I would've━''

''Ajax.'' Y/n shushed him, that gentle smile he fell in love with on her face. Oh, how he'd missed it. ''I know. There's nothing to apologize for.''

Y/n moved to stand next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Tartaglia felt her hand rubbing his back, and he couldn't help the second tear that escaped his eye at the sudden warmth that was surrounding him, one he'd lacked even in Liyue, despite how much different the climate was.

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