Any tags I reblog ARE. NOT. MINE! They just fit that post so well that I HAVE to include them.
Dividers arenât mine. Iâll credit them once I find the creator.
Divider blog list: Link below (đ)
đŹ 0  đ 0  â€ïž 1 · My personal list of blogs that make amazing dividers. These are not in any particular order!
@firefly-graphics.
Kiame-Samaâs Transformation Spin-Off List: đ
đŹ 0  đ 0  â€ïž 0 · Post by @kiame-sama · 1 image · Kiame-samaâs HAE Transformation Spin-Offs List
I will update this list if more are posted!
Amazing Posts
đŹ 96  đ 7684  â€ïž 8912 · There was actually a post somewhere on the internet like this about New York having a city-wide power outage in the
Kiame-samaâs Main Story Masterlist
đŹ 13  đ 159  â€ïž 836 · Insanity (+18) · Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU links
Warnings; monsters galore, yanderes,
Quietplace26âs Main Masterlist
đŹ 0  đ 6  â€ïž 65 · Because of a recent issue I was having with my original masterlist, I redid everything and separated everything into diffe
I'm loving your posts on touch starved! zhongli, I find it so cute and amusing to see him like this. Okay, my request is that let say reader(afab of this request) had a very detailed dragon tattoo (on one of her thigh or on her waist) how would Zhongli reacted to seeing the stunning tattoo (that look exactly like his dragon form) for the first time during one of this his "worship" session.
Slight NSF_W
Ahh, I loved this request from the moment I got it⊠I got super burnt out though so it took me like, months - literally >_< Ahaha;; I hope it was at least decent!
Warnings: Afab! Reader, yandere!Zhongli, SAGAU, implied Dom!Reader/Sub!Zhongli, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Zhongli pins you down, making out (?), heaving touching; ask to tag anything else!
Ever since your unexpected arrival into the world of Teyvat, your life had taken a turn â transforming into something you never thought could become your life; that included, and highlighted, the sudden worship of your name. After all, you were just you, nothing particularly deity-worthy; so why was it that now you were revered as an idol above the heavens itself?
You still remember getting the tattoo; it had to be done in three sessions due to the amount of detail and its size â it wrapped itself around your waist and decorated your body as if it had always been there; protectively hugging you close as if your guardian. It was a dragon, you had wanted this design ever since youâd seen it hanging on the tattoo artistâs wall, with striking golden and orange-yellow scales and horns, its long body entranced you with the way it seemed to float out of the paper â when asked, the artist was more than eager to ink it on your skin.
You never thought youâd find someone whoâd resemble the tattoo â at least not in the way Zhongli did. After all, in what world did dragons live and breathe or golden-eyed humans wander the streets? Surely, not yours.
In his human form, his eyes caught your own immediately - you recognized a familiar glow in them; they were nothing short of a copy of the ones carved on your skin - but it became abundantly clear the similarities were far more than you had originally thought when you stood in front the depictions of Rex Lapiz decorating a particular temple you had been guided inside of.
It was one of the hundreds of monuments dedicated to you (an idea that you still struggled to come to terms with); but this one was special - Ningguang and the historians beside you had said â for it shows the moment Rex Lapiz, the Geo Archon, first dedicated himself to you and your worship.
You knew who the Lord of Geo was, how could you forget when you had been rendered speechless the first time you met Zhongli in the game, and maybe that was why your breath felt like it had been knocked out of your lungs as you saw the intricate patterns that beautified the walls; it felt like the ink on your skin was burning up.
Once the trip was over and you had been led back to the place you were now calling home, you quickly came to the decision to never show your tattoo to anyone as you remembered the jealous gazes in everyoneâs eyes as you showed even the slightest bit of favor towards anyone; how would they react to knowing you had a tattoo identical to the dragon form of Morax?
But itâs in moments of passion where common sense seems to disappear.
Youâd always been so cautious to not let his hands drift too far up your waist as to uncover the delicate ink decorating your torso but your mind was hazy and filled to the brim with the feeling of his fingers delicately lifting your silk garments off, his eyes were closed as he littered your neck with the softest kisses, his other hand caressing your hand that laid flat against his bare chest.
âZ-ZhongliâŠâ You moan out, this was one of the few times you let him start things off and your head was brimming with the intoxicating feeling of him.
âYour highness,â he moans against your shoulder, âplease⊠allow me to take this off.â
He paws at your dress desperately as if he wanted to destroy the stupid boundary limiting his love, it was almost cute how agriviated he seemed by the soft fabric, all he wanted to do was show you his love â show you how much he worshiped you.
âPlease do.â You donât even realize your words until you feel your shoulder straps being undone, the fabric falling against your chest and pooling under your feet.
He opens his eyes, he steps away to take away your body â the sight of utmost holiness, the most sacred figure in the whole world; one only he could bear witness to. His shining amber eyes finally trailing down to your waist and his breath hitches and he wonders if his heart has stopped beating from the shock.
A dragon so similar to his own form as Morax laid across your body, circling your waist proudly, his knees feel weak and his cheeks grow heavy with excess blood circulating around his face - he felt flustered, he couldnât breathe; you⊠you loved him so much, respected and acknowledged his work and admiration for you to the point you decorated your body with him? Probably
not, maybe he was getting all in his head, letting his pride get the better of him, but the thought was too nice, too pleasing for him to ignore. Call him a naive, selfish, and egocentric fool to believe such a thing but oh, was he the happiest fool in Teyvat.
Before you can fully note the look in his eyes or acknowledge the absolute mess youâve put yourself in by letting him view the tattoo, he practically launches himself and you into the bed. You stumble backwards, his previously dominating (though itâd be incredibly kind to call it that) attitude is replaced by one of pure worship, his headspace fully transforming into one filled with you as heâs back to being a young god, lost in the world looking for acceptance by the one being he felt he could turn to: you.
His hands travel around your body as if frantically trying to memorize every curve of your person, his kisses became sloppy and desperate as he tried engraving the taste and feel of you into his very being.
âAh, ghâŠâ You let out, hands come to grasp at his long hair in an attempt to ground yourself from the way he loved your body.
âY-your highness,â his hands kept tracing the ink, his heart beating faster and faster the more he looked at it, âIâm⊠ah, thank you for al-allowing me the opportunity to worship y-you-agh.. D-damn it!â
You canât even reply properly, his sudden change in character and the sheer strength he used to make sure you were kept nice and pretty beneath him leaving you speechless. Oh heavens, you will be in for quite a treat when this is over and Zhongli asks you about the tattoo once heâs in a more stable mindset.
âŠ
His ego gets boosted, insanely so, even if you explain to him itâs technically not him heâll still find some way to twist your words around and convince himself, and maybe even others, otherwise. Itâs almost as if heâs back to being the young, prideful man known as Moraxâhe canât help himself.
Zhongli knows humility and humbleness are two important traits he ought to always carry, if not for himself then at least for you, but how can he? Is this not proof that heâs your favorite? How can you explain such markings if not the result of his hard work? If not with him in mind then it must have been the fates, the universe subtly telling both you and himself about the future, one where you two are connected in more ways than he had originally conceived.
Is it egocentric of him? Yes, absolutely and he knows it very well â heâs vain not stupid, but he doesnât mind; not when it finally validates millennia of suffering and hardships.
it's me again! I'm totally good with you giving me a name yourself since I can't be creative. anyways, another small brainrot for you.
"your excellency, may I enter?" zhongli, your eldest worshipper asked. he waited outside for any sign of approval or denial but he was met with silence.
"your excellency?" silence again. he pondered over whether he should enter or not. on one hand you may just be sleeping, while on the other something might have happened to you...
this made him frown. he decided that right now assuring your safety was the most important. "excuse me for the disturbance," he said as he entered.
he found no trace of you. except for your coat lying on the ground. he picked it up and alongside it picked up the small body that was wearing it. "and what are you doing here if I may ask?"
you, who just got back to your room saw the geo archon zhongli grabbing the dendro archon nahida by her neck. "don't pick her up like that zhongli. you're not dealing with venti here," you said, taking her from his hand.
"i apologize." "to what do I owe the visit to then?" "there are some things that required your attention but seeing as you are occupied..." he looked at nahida.
"ah yes, i'm extremely busy trying to find someone willing to adopt nahida with me. any ideas, mr zhongli?" you looked at him with an expectant look in your eyes.
"i have a few ideas. is there any criteria you want in the possible candidates?" he asked. "that person needs to be at least 6000 years old," you smirked. he looked anywhere but your eyes, faint blush tainting his ears. "ah... it seems there's only one candidate possible."
Then I shall dub thee!!!!! Archon Anon, it is your right as the first to get the coolest name >:3
But like????? Love this?????? I would adopt Nahida with him <3
Forgive me, but I know next to nothing about dear Nahida yet, but soon!!!
!Smol pregnancy mention!
Nahida really wanted to trust that she was safe in your personal quarters, but she knows more than you give her credit for. More even then you, about how your followers worked. She liked to watch them after all.
You told her to do as she pleased, and Nahida would be pleased to wear some of your comfy coats. It was rather rude of Morax to come in and grab her like that. Not that she didn't expect it completely. It was still rude.
But Zhongli is more than happy to imagine the Dendro Archon as his child if it's you as his partner.
He becomes suddenly bashful to imagine your children together, whether more of them were to be adopted, or if perhaps... If you're able... you carried them. The very thought makes his head spin. But for now.... Nahida is a cute little one now that he looks again...
And you... Well you're so charming as you hold the tiny god close with so much tenderness and love...
What do I call it when I don't even have a name yet...?
Anyway! Eventually, every character will at least have a worship styles post! Including non-playables like Signora and Dottore(because I'm down bad for him-)
So I will eventually have a lot to organize, lol. But I'll keep this updated as best I can so I go!
Brainrot!
Waiting- In which you've been waiting for a certain someone... (Zhongli x Reader)
Adoption- In which someone is snooping around looking for you, only to find their new daughter (Zhongli x Reader x Familial!Nahida)
Erosion- In which you can cure erosion with only your touch
Dancing- In which you like to dance!
Hide N' Go Seek!- In which you would rather be anywhere else and do anything other than your work
Sensitive- In which the world falls apart if you get the sads
Multi-Character Fics!
Banner- In which the characters have control on if or not they come home (Diluc, Zhongli)
Just Leave Me Alone(Jealous)- In which they don't have control on if or not they come home, and oh boy do they want to come home (Diluc, Zhongli, Sangonomiya Kokomi)
Fruit Gummi- In which someone breaks into your house, but don't worry! They just want some snacks (Venti, Nahida)
Squishy!- In which you may be a little chonky, but your acolytes love you so much (Klee, Diona, Albedo, Kazuha, Zhongli, Venti, and Raiden Ei)
Canonically Dead Character Fics
To Warm Your Hands, To Warm Your Heart- In which in death, someone finds you and loves you in a way you needed (Adoptive Dad!Crepus x Reader)
Zhongli- The Ancient
A Surprisingly Silent Night- In which being a god is... lonely
Venti- The Freed
Raiden Ei- The Eternal
Diluc- The Renewed
Kaeya- The Unsubtle
Razor- The Removed
Kamisato Ayato- The Bored
Operator, Get Me Control- In which you have been trapped... for a long, long time, but your freedom seems to be short lived
Beidou- The True
Dainsleif- The Ruined
Mona- The Bridge
Tartaglia- The Ambitious
Yanfei- The Righteous
Noelle- The Sure
Yun Jin- The Untraditional
Kaedehara Kazuha- The Intuitive
Sweet Scents on the Whispering Wind- In which the winds speak, and you finally get found
GESHU LIN AND CALCHARO FROM WUWAS FINDING OUT HIS LOVER HAS A DRAGON TATTOO Part 2 (I left part 1 link at the bottom)
GESHU LIN
.He likely finds out while you are dressing or after a long day of battle. Because he is a soldier, his eyes are trained to notice anomalies. He would go still, his gaze locking onto the ink with the same lethal focus he uses on a battlefield.
.Geshu Lin doesnât startle. Instead, he lingers. He would likely reach out, his fingers tracing the outline of the dragon without asking permission first, his touch surprisingly cool.
"Youâve been hiding this. Why?"
.(he dislikes being kept in the dark)
.He would trace the scales of the dragon with his thumb, his eyes narrowing as he evaluates the artistry. To him, symbols are power; heâs trying to decipher if this dragon represents a part of your past he hasn't conquered yet.
.As a man who sacrificed everything at Desorock Highland, he views "marking the body" as something significant. He doesn't see it as just "cool art"; he sees it as a seal of character.
"A dragon. A creature of storms and pride. It suits you... though I wonder if you kept it from me because you feared Iâd see too much of myself in it."
.He leans in, his chest pressing against your back, effectively "claiming" both the tattoo and the person wearing it. He might press a lingering, possessive kiss to the center of the ink.
.If you try to laugh it off or tell him you just "forgot" to mention it, heâll let out a short, huffed breathâthe closest thing to a laugh you'll get.
."Forgot? You have a beast coiled across your spine, and you claim it slipped your mind? You are a poor liar. Fortunately for you, I have a fondness for dangerous things."
.He becomes obsessed with the tattoo, often demanding to see it when you are alone.
.Geshu Lin wouldn't be "mad," but he would be intensely curious. He views secrets as vulnerabilities. By revealing the tattoo, youâve given him a new piece of yourself to protectâand to control.
CALCHARO
.Calcharo likely notices it during a quiet momentâperhaps as youâre turning away or dressing. He wouldn't gasp. Instead, youâd feel the temperature in the room shift as his gaze locks onto the ink. There would be a heavy, weighted silence before he speaks.
.He moves like a predatorâsilent and deliberate. He wouldn't stay across the room; heâd close the distance until heâs standing directly behind you.
.He isn't always physically affectionate, but this warrants it. Youâd feel his gloved fingers (or the calloused skin of his hand) trace the outline of the dragon's spine or wings. Heâs "reading" the ink like a map.
.Heâs looking for the meaning. In the world of Wuthering Waves, symbols carry weight. Heâs analyzing if this is a mark of a hidden past, a faction, or simply a personal choice.
.His voice would be low, dropping into that gravelly, resonant tone he uses when heâs being serious.
"A dragon. A symbol of power... or perhaps a burden youâve been carrying in silence. Youâve kept this well-hidden from the Hounds. And from me."
When you explain yourself, heâd likely give a rare, faint smirk.
"Don't look so defensive. In our line of work, a secret kept this long is a sign of discipline. I find it... intriguing. It suits you."
.Calcharo views you as his most trusted partner, but heâs also a man who likes to be in control.
.Heâs impressed you managed to keep a secret from him, considering he prides himself on his scouting and intelligence gathering.
.Thereâs a dark streak to him. Knowing there is a part of you that is "hidden" or "armored" by this dragon makes him want to know every other secret youâre holding
.If the tattoo looks fierce or battle-worn, his respect for you deepens. He sees you less as something to protect and more as a "beast" capable of standing beside him in the mud and blood of the battlefield.
.He likes it. It adds a layer of "danger" to you that mirrors his own.
.He thinks you're pretty hot with that tattoo by the way
HSR, Wuthering Waves, and Genshin men react when they find out their lover has a dragon tattoo, part 1 (part 2 at the bottom)
Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Dang Heng, Jiyan, and Zhongli
BLADE
.Blade isn't one for idle chatter or grand romantic gestures. The discovery would likely happen while tending your wounds or when you were changing in the other room, and he walked in on you
.He freezes. His breath hitches, a rare sign of genuine surprise. His hand, usually steady and lethal, might hover just inches above the ink.
.His eyes narrow. Youâd see a flash of the "Mara" flickering in his gazeâthat crimson intensity. He isnât just looking at art; heâs looking at a symbol that represents his eternal tormentor.
.His voice would be a low, dangerous rasp. He wouldn't yell; he would demand truth with a quiet, suffocating gravity.
"Where did you get this?"
"A dragon... of all the things to etch into your skin. Do you know what those creatures have taken from me? Or is this a cruel joke youâve been keeping for the right moment?"
If he realizes itâs just a tattoo and not a mark of the Vidyadhara, his tone drops to a weary whisper:Â "You chose to wear the image of a monster. Be careful... sometimes the image invites the essence."
.Bladeâs behavior would shift from suspicion to a dark, possessive
.He would eventually trace the lines of the dragon with his calloused fingers. Itâs a haunting gestureâpartly checking if itâs real, partly reclaiming you from the symbol.
.He might pull away for a few days, brooding in silence as he processes the "coincidence." But when he returns, heâll be more protective. To him, the dragon is a mark of tragedy; heâll feel an even stronger urge to "guard" you from the fate that usually follows that symbol.
.He might bitterly compare the ink to his own scars. "Your skin is marked by choice. Mine is marked by a curse. We are both ruined in our own way now."
.He finds a dark irony in it. He loves the fact that you wear the symbol of the man he hates most.
.He becomes obsessed with the spot on your back, often resting his hand there as if to "cover" the dragon
.Blade views the world through the lens of his past "debts." Seeing a dragon on you makes him wonder if the universe is mocking him, or if you are simply another beautiful thing destined to be destroyed by the legacy of the High Elder.
JING YUAN
.Jing Yuan is rarely "surprised" in the traditional sense; he usually notices small details long before they are revealed. He might have noticed the way you winced during a stretch or a faint ink line peeking above a collar.
.When he finally sees the full pieceâperhaps while you're changing or relaxing in the eveningâhe wouldn't gasp. Instead, there would be a heavy, appreciative silence. He would likely pause mid-sentence, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the craftsmanship.
.His tone would be warm, laced with that signature "sleepy" mischief
"And here I thought I was the only one in this room harboring secrets of the High Cloud Quintet's caliber. It seems my lady/lord has been moonlighting as a member of a hidden sect."
"The line work is exquisite. It carries a certain... ferocity that suits you. Tell me, did it hurt as much as it looks? I would have gladly held your hand through the process."
"A dragon? My, if Dan Heng sees this, he might think you're vying for his title as the Imbibitor Lunae."
.He would likely reach out, his fingers tracing the outline of the dragon's scales with feather-light pressure. Heâd be careful, asking if the ink is old or still healing.
.He would treat your back like a scroll of ancient history. Heâd want to know the story behind itâwhy a dragon? When did you get it? Does it represent a part of your past you've moved on from?
.If you kept it hidden out of insecurity or fear of judgment, he would immediately pull you into a close embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. Heâd reassure you that such "armor" only makes you more captivating in his eyes.
.He might buy you backless silks or specific oils to keep the skin hydrated
.In moments of stress, you'd find him absentmindedly tracing the dragon's head through your clothes, a silent reminder that he knows every version of you, even the parts you keep tucked away.
DANG FENG
.Dan Feng isnât one for loud outbursts. If he were to see the tattooâperhaps in a quiet moment or as you were dressingâhe would likely go dead silent. You would feel his gaze linger with a heavy, contemplative weight before he even speaks.
.He would reach out, his touch cool but firm, tracing the ink with his fingertips. He isn't just looking at art; he is looking for meaning, checking if the scales are "correct" or if the dragon's posture mirrors the High Elder's grace.
.His expression wouldn't be one of anger, but of a profound, searching curiosity. He would look as if heâs trying to decipher a secret scripture written on your skin.
.His words would be measured, perhaps slightly tinged with a possessive curiosity.
"A dragon? Youâve carried this mark in silence while walking by my side. I find myself wondering... did you choose this image because of me, or was there a part of your spirit I had yet to recognize?"
.If you told him you kept it a secret just for a "reveal," he might let out a rare, huffing breathâthe closest he gets to a laugh.
"To keep a dragon hidden is no small feat. You are more like the Vidyadhara than I realizedâkeeping your true form veiled until the moment is right."
.Dan Feng lives a life where he is constantly "The Dragon." To see his lover voluntarily take on that symbol would affect him deeply
.He might interpret it as a profound act of loyalty or a desire to be closer to his world.
. In his era, being associated with the dragon often meant being associated with the Luofuâs heavy responsibilities. He might feel a flicker of guilt, wondering if youâve "branded" yourself with his burdens.
.There is a sliver of High Elder pride that would be deeply flattered. He would find it fitting that his chosen partner carries the likeness of his kin.
.He would become much more tactile regarding your back. Expect his hand to rest there more often in private, his thumb tracing the lines of the tattoo through your clothes.
.He might compare the tattoo to his own scales or his dragon form, pointing out where the ink differs from "the real thing" with a dry, scholarly wit.
.Seeing that you "kept a secret" might actually prompt him to share more of his own hidden thoughts. If you can keep a dragon on your back, he feels he can trust you with the dragons in his mind.
. A mix of pride, curiosity, and a touch of possessiveness when he sees your tattoo
.He might later give you jewelry or silks that specifically highlight or complement the tattoo.
JIYAN
.Given Jiyanâs stoic, observant, and deeply devoted personality as the General of the Midnight Rangers, his reaction would likely be a blend of quiet fascination and profound respect. He is a man who carries the weight of a dragon's power (the Qingloong) himself, so he views such imagery with a mix of spiritual reverence and personal connection.
.Jiyan isn't the type to be shocked or loud. If he sees it for the first timeâperhaps while helping you tend to a wound or during a quiet moment at nightâhe would go completely still.
.His hand might hover just inches away from your skin, hesitant to touch without permission but clearly mesmerized. He would trace the air above the ink, his eyes narrowing slightly as he memorizes every scale and curve.
.The room would grow quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic hum of his own resonance power reacting to the symbol of the dragon.
.His voice would be low, dropping into that resonant, gravelly tone he uses when heâs being frank. He wouldnât be upset that you kept it a secret; rather, heâd be curious about the intent behind it.
"It... suits you. There is a fierce strength in these lines that I have always felt in your presence, even when it was hidden from view. Why did you choose to keep this under your armor?"
.He would listen to your explanation with undivided attention, looking at you as if heâs seeing a new, vital chapter of your life story finally being revealed.
.Once he has your "okay," he will finally touch the tattoo. His fingertips would be calloused from his polearm but incredibly gentle. He might trace the spine of the dragon, comparing it in his mind to the ethereal form of the Qingloong.
.He won't feel betrayed. Jiyan understands the necessity of keeping parts of oneself private (a trait of a general). Instead, heâll feel honored that he is now the one allowed to see it.
.He might feel an even deeper sense of kinship with you. To him, you now share a "burden" or a "blessing" of the dragon. He might jokingly (or very seriously) remark that the two dragons should look after one another.
.Internally, Jiyan is likely feeling a surge of affection. He sees the tattoo as a reflection of your inner spiritâunyielding and powerful. He might think to himself
âEven without the ink, I knew the soul of a dragon resided within them. Now, the world just happens to have caught up to what I already knew.â
.He will occasionally press a lingering kiss to the ink before you head into battle, as if "blessing" the tattoo for protection.
"A dragon rarely reveals its full form until the time is right. I am grateful you chose this moment to show me."
ZHONGLI
.He isnât the type to be shocked or angry; rather, he would approach the revelation with the scholarly curiosity and gentle gravity that defines him.
.Zhongli would likely find out in a quiet, domestic momentâperhaps while helping you adjust a cloak or during a walk at Luhua Pool. He would stop mid-sentence, his amber eyes glowing slightly
.He wouldn't pull away. Instead, he would likely trace the lines of the ink with the tips of his gloved fingersâor bare hands if the setting is intimateâwith the same reverence he uses when examining ancient jade.
.The air would feel heavy and grounded, like the stillness before a mountain storm, but filled with warmth rather than threat.
.His voice would drop an octave, smooth and resonant. He wouldn't demand to know why you "hid" it; he would view it as a hidden history waiting to be told.
"A striking depiction. The brushworkâor rather, the needleworkâpossesses a vitality I have rarely seen outside of the adepti's own scrolls. It resembles the celestial forms of the dragons from the era of the Archon War."
"To think, I have walked beside you all this time, yet there was a part of your story I had yet to read. It is... a beautiful testament to your strength."
.He would spend a significant amount of time asking about the origin. Was it a rite of passage? A personal whim? He values the "contract" of the inkâthe idea that you chose to bind this image to your skin forever.
.There is a subtle irony he wouldn't miss. As the former Dragon King of Liyue, seeing a dragon on your back feels like a "mark" of his own realm. He might feel a surge of possessiveness, though heâd express it through increased doting.
.He wouldn't be offended by the secret. To Zhongli, everyone has their "hidden stone." He would simply be pleased that he is now privy to this part of you
.He might spend the evening comparing the anatomy of the tattoo to his own historical forms, explaining the symbolism of the scales or the horns.
.Don't be surprised if he shows up the next day with a high-quality moisturizing oil or balm made from Silk Flowers and Glaze Lilies, insisting that "the ink must be preserved with the utmost care to prevent fading over the centuries."
.If the tattoo happens to look even remotely like his Exuvia form (the brown and gold dragon), he would be deeply moved. He might take it as a sign of a "contract of the soul"âan unspoken bond that existed between you before you even met.
I can just imagine the reader iseki to genshin and then gathers up everyone in the building that the people made just for them. And then they ask to meet (character with the characteristics of an animal or even an oni) and when they do, they litterally smother that person with all their love. And yes. I'm obsessed with SAGAU
Ex;
Zhongli đ
1st: Twitter artist: GARDENSVEIL
2nd: ??? You can see in the picture
3rd: Twitter artist: crycry84488
You asked him to transform into his dragon form. At first he politely declined until he saw your sad pitiful face :(
He couldn't resist so he gave in quickly. As you touch his horns, his tail unconsciously wraps around you, bringing you closer. He apologized with a flustered look on his face. But you, of course. Smothered him with more love than he had ever received. It's overwhelming in a good way. He feels comforted and relaxed by your warmth.
You couldn't wait to see his full form
1st: don't know, but the user is in the picture
2nd: Danbooru artist: hozumi_rino
3rd: Twitter artist: Lontongs_
4th: Danbooru artist: nihellie
Was too lazy to do the images separately for each person. Also I picked 10/10 random.
Yae miko đŠ
She is a bit flirty though and she does tease you but immediately quiets down when you let yourself be within the warmth of her 5 fluffy Tails and ears too. But now to the flirty side. When she flirts with her teasing, one time you accidentally grip her tail too hard, and she yelped. (Definitely not because of the pain đł)
Yeah, after that day, she made sure to be careful with the flirting and teasing. But she would gladly lets you do it again someday.
Gorou
He tried to seem calm but inside his mind goes wild, he sat down with both knees on the floor and his knuckles turn white of how hard he was gripping his pants.
After that incident, he always felt the urge to go to you and be smothered by your love as you ruffled his hair, touching the right spots on his ears and tail.
It was truly blissful, he could ascend to the celestials. You told him the chocker on his neck looks nice.
He wonders how you react if he wears a collar around his neck
Diona
She's annoyed at first but finds warmth in your petting. She comes for you for comfort when all the drunken people are being mean to her. She hides behind you as you ruffled her hair and glared at the drunk person as they felt a chill upon their spine
Congratulations, you are seen her new parent figure!
Tignari
At first when you pat his head for his hard work being a forest watcher. He's surprised at least but is happy for such praise from your Grace. He's used to you playing with his ears and hugging his tail. Though he feels embarrassed of how good it feels when you touch them.
If you don't praise or either pat his head for his good work at least once every day, he thought he made you mad and tears fall from his eyes. But you assured him, that you just forgot.
Praise him now
Bonus;
Xiao
Twitter artist:_ahblue_
He would only see himself as a tool. You know that, so when he hesitated. You told him he would be your comfort buddy. So he agrees. He would never admit that he liked it when you take care of his wings and stroke it so softly. He uses his wings as a pillow or blanket when you felt sleepy or cold.
His karma debt goes away whenever you come around him.
He feels at peace
Alhaitham & Dottore
I know both of them aren't exactly hybrids of animals but they are similar,
Dottore has a bird-like mask, sometimes when you try to hug his bird mask pokes you in the shoulder. But you just pat his hair and play with it. Sometimes you braid it and he doesn't even bother un-doing it. He even comes to you to braid it again and he will pout frown if you don't. He usually does this when he's stressed from work or when one worker who made him in a bad mood.
With Alhaitham, (alpha) oh come on, have you seen his eyes go red? So it counts...He feels unfamiliar with this feeling, as you let him lay on your lap while he reads a book. Your thighs are an excellent block of hearing and maybe chest tooOf course, he prefers to be it in private. Only you can see him like this.
A/N: Could you tell I love writing family AUs? This took far longer than I thought tobbe finished bit I am really happy with the outcome! Hope I made you feel the familial love I tend to feel towards certain characters like Zhongli! And this is a part of my "Pinterest Event" so anyone wants to join can do it from the link below!
Event link
"Uhm, Your Grace... I would never dare to question your decisions but what exactly are you...holding?"
"Hmm? Oh, here, meet Morax! I found this little hatchling on the skirts of a mountain... Poor thing was left all alone. Isn't he so cute though?"
Today was a good, sunny day, just warm enough to pull someone to a sweet nap on a soft bed. It was obvious in the faces of your people too, if how they were more energetic and smiley around were any tell tale of it. The children were all out, playing with each other, adults shopping and young lovers on romantic dates... Yes, today was a really good day.
And what better way to for the Creator to spend it with their children, no?
Only suprise effect was that... You came across a baby dragon out in the wild, being lured to where it laid on a rock with soft blanket wrapped around the small body it had. So pure and innocent, yet fragile... Crying his eyes out for someone to notice and then staring at your starry eyes with curious, big amber eyes.
Oh, today was a good day and he was so cutee!
Your mother instincts that screamed at you to craddle the crying baby immediately started kicking in, softly hugging the baby between your arms as you cooed sweet things to him, which seemed like they calmed hım down as he touched your hands experimentally, all the while outstretching him towards your loyal companion, the one that had always stood beside you, none other than Phanes itself. He only gave you a confused look with a slight grimace as the baby continued babbling at him, although confused as to why he suddenly felt cold without your warm arms around him.
That was when realization dawned on him and he started to whimper, an indication that he was about to wail so high that it was enough to tear the sky of Teyvat apart.
"Oh, no... No,no baby, It's okay! I'm here! You are not alone anymore... You must have been so scared all by yourself for I know how long." You soothed the baby with a soft smile, rocking him rhytymicly while turning him around so that his head rested on your chest and could nuzzle closer to your warmth, babbling out some words that definetly agreed with what you just said and did.
When you first decided to roam the lands you created yourself, stumbling upon a wailing and lonely baby definetly wasn't what you expected to see.
Besides the fact that the said baby had horns, scales and a very cute and fluffy tail, temptinf enough to squeeze the living daylight out of it.
You remember looking around confused, worried and angry. All for those people or dragons who left their baby out like that. Anger coursed through your veins like molten lava, slow and searing, a quiet fury tempered only by the fragile bundle trembling in your arms as your eyes burned an angry orange, threatening to cut the horizon in half had it not been for the cutie hanging off of you like a koala, giggling at his attempts of climbing but failing.
How could anyone leave him like this?
But the sight of him trying to wobble to your tall and elegant form, and fail as he fell on his bum, you couldnt help the maternal love you felt surge in your soul.
"Hello, you handsome~ Oh, you're so cute but we need to give you some clothes..."
You rocked the baby gently in your arms, his tiny claws clinging to the fabric of your robes as though afraid you'd disappear if he let go. His breath came in soft, steady puffs now, warm against your collarbone. Whatever fear had once clouded his golden eyes was gone, replaced with something quieter⊠safer.
A weight settled on your chest. Not from the baby, although he was one hell of a chunky one, but from the unspoken question lingering in your thoughts: what now?
This wasnât part of your plans. Not when you stepped down from your throne to walk the lands you shaped. And certainly not when you stumbled upon a hatchling curled between ancient rocks, alone and trembling.
Yet now, with each soft hum that escaped his lips, each little babble as he tried to mimic the sound of your voice, something inside you shifted.
âMm⊠ba⊠hmmh⊠guh⊠MmmrrâŠâ
You slowed your rocking pace, glancing down. His brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and he repeated the syllables again, this time with more insistence. One chubby hand batted at your shiny necklace, claws barely extended as his other hand was on your chest as if he needed to make sure you wouldn't go away. You giggled at the cute babbles, making shimmering little stars around him with a flick of your hand as a brown baby robe materialized over his tiny body, making hi. let out excited screams as he tried to chase the stars with his claws.
ââŠMmm⊠mmm-mah⊠mahâŠâ
Your heart softened instantly at what his babbles sounded like, cutting right through the noncholant exterior you tried to put on for the sake of formalities as the Creator. He didn't fully know what he was saying, not yet, but the way his voice sought you out, the way he reached for your face with a bubbling laugh and a loud âAh! Ma!â made something melt within you.
"I am here, Morax," you murmured again, testing the name on your tongue. You weren't sĂŒre why the name left your mouth like that so easily, as if it was long decided before you even knew him but it suited him. A name deep-rooted, steadfast, like the earth he would one day command unknown to both of you.
For now, he was just a clueless, slobbering, cute baby in need of warmth, and a mother.
He gave a pleased chirp in response, pressing closer. You instinctively adjusted your hold and brushed a thumb over his cheek.
As if satisfied with your response, he gave a proud little grunt and settled back into your arms, tail flicking once like a satisfied cat. Then he began again, happily stringing together nonsense syllables, some clicking, others almost like dragon chittering. A soundscape of innocence and curiosity, uninterrupted and unfiltered as he chatted with you in his own way, with his own words only he could understand.
âTa⊠ruu⊠da-da⊠mmrâŠ!â
A nearby bird chirped in answer. Morax gasped and pointed at it with both hands, babbling faster now in what may have been an attempt to mimic it. You couldn't help but laugh lovingly at the small, excited babe, but grunt when he almost threw himself towards the bird who stood on a branch and watched with a tilted head.
He was a very heavy baby after all, and you were not sure how you were supposed to carry him around.
âAre you making new friends already?â you walked tweards the small bird as you bent down for Morax to reach out to the bird, careful and hesitant despite the claws and his size. Seeing how he already knew how fragile the bird was, your starry eyes blinked at him shocked for a second as the bird hopped to him and jumped up and down around his form, allowing hım to try and catch it.
Behind you, Phanes still looked torn between amusement and alarm, arms awkwardly folded as if unsure whether to speak or bow. You offered him a faint smile, silencing the rising questions with a glance.
There was time for questions later.
For now, there was only the small life tucked in your arms, now dozing after his olay with the bird, with the kind of trust that demanded protection, and something far deeper than that. Devotion, and Love perhaps.
You took a breath, deeper than before, and began to walk. Slowly, purposefully, past the trees and stone that once knew you only as a god, despite being the Creator of All.
Now, was the the start of your adventures of the tiring experience the mortals called... Motherhood.
Adventure 1: Teething Trouble...
The sound pierced the quiet temple like a dagger.
It was the fifth time that day, maybe sixth. You'd stopped counting around the third hour of Moraxâs sudden, inexplicable wailing. Not the sleepy fussing he sometimes did when he wanted to be closer, nor the soft whines of discomfort. This was something else.
Sharp. Loud. Endless.
He screamed with the lungs of a beast far larger than his tiny body should allow, face scrunched, tail flailing against the blankets you'd lovingly wrapped him in. His golden eyes brimmed with frustrated tears, and you swore the stone beneath your feet cracked slightly each time he shrieked.
You bounced him gently. Nothing.
You rocked him in your arms. Nothing.
You even summoned a soft breeze scented with sweet osmanthus, something he used to coo at. Nothing.
The wailing hadnât stopped.
You sat in the far corner of your room, arms curled tightly around Moraxâs trembling form, rocking him without rhythm, just movement. Anything. Anything to soothe him. Anything to make it stop.
But the only thing it made him do was flail around helplessly and have a cold sweat around his body from the way he screamed non-stop.
"You're not hurt," you murmured helplessly, brushing your fingers along his teary cheeks as you continued to bounce him without a stop. "You're not cold. Not hungry. Then what is it?"
But he only wailed louder, as if offended that you hadnât understood his suffering immediately.
âI donât know what to do,â you whispered, voice cracking as you kissed the top of his head, murmuring to his heated akın as your eyes welled with your own tears. âI donât⊠I donât know what you need.â
He wailed again, louder, like the sound could split you open.
And maybe it did.
Youâd faced monsters before, real ones. Youâd seen galaxies torn in half, cities turned to dust, entire pantheons crumble beneath the weight of time.
But this... This tiny creature who looked at you with such raw, innocent trust, then cried and cried when you couldnât help him.
This brought you to your knees.
Now you understood.
You were supposed to be a god. A creator. A divine being whose voice one word could split the entire universe and cease it to exist. And yet here you were, pacing barefoot with a howling baby dragon in your arms, his claws getting between your hair, clawing at your robes helplessly as he whined between your arms, muttering soft words and quiet pleas into his hair like any desperate parent might.
You couldnât command the pain away. And worse, he didnât understand why it hurt.
He only knew that it did, and that he needed you.
And you were failing him.
You pressed your forehead to his, eyes closed and tears gathering at the edges, and for the first time in so, so long... You felt small.
Is this how everyone else feels in my presence? I don't like this feeling at all...
âPlease,â you murmured, not to any god, not to the heavens, just into the space between your breaths. âPlease tell me how to help you.â
And still, nothing.
A flash of movement caught your eye. Phanes stood silently at the doorframe, looking like he very much wanted to say something, but also very much did not want to die. His eyes zeroed on the baby between your arms, angrily trying to bang his head against the softness of your chest as if it would make his pain go away. Seeing how he still sought you in his distress, it gave you some comfort in the middle of your self-deprecating thoughts.
"Your Highness, you should rest. A stressed mother isn't good for an already stressed baby." Phanes approached quietly, not like a subordinate, not like a worshipper, but like someone who had long since stopped pretending that he wasnât watching you too closely.
You finally looked up at him, eyes glassy. For a moment, you looked like you might argue. Like you might refuse. But the fight was gone from you. With trembling care, you lowered yourself onto the cushioned sofa behind you, clutching Morax until Phanes knelt beside you and offered his hands.
You sighed deeply, stroking Moraxâs head and shook your head. You didn't want to let him go when he needed you and you were already failing him.
âI wonât go far,â he promised. âAnd Iâll bring him back to you the moment he needs you.â
You hesitated. Maybe it was silly how you got attached to him so fast despite saying that you had love and care for every being in the universe, but he was now your baby and yet again... You weren't much of a help to the poor baby wailing his lungs out. So, slowly, reluctantly, you let him take Morax from your arms.
The moment the baby left your embrace, he stirred, whining weakly in confusion, his pain forgotten as the only thing he cared was that your face and warmth was away from him. But Phanes held him securely, rocking with practiced calm, and Morax, still sniffling, slumped against his chest. Still crying, but softer now that he felt his tiredness.
Phanes hummed softly to the baby as he went towards the window to show the outside to a still-growing Morax, allowing you to close your eyes a bit and let out a tired sigh. You watched him through half-lidded eyes from where you lay curled on the low resting couch, your body heavier than it had felt in centuries. The golden fabric of your robes was tangled beneath you, your hair undone, hands still faintly trembling in your lal because of the anxiety from earlier. But for now, for this one moment, you didnât have to hold everything together.
The low, steady hum in Phanesâ throat was unfamiliar. It wasnât the sacred hymns sung in your temples, nor the cosmic songs etched into ley lines. It was something smaller. Perhaps a lullaby from a mortal mother on Teyvat... You wondered if they were as tired and helpless as you felt now, or had they ever felt that way? It would be funny if the very same mortals you created were doing a better job in parenthood than you did.
Maybe I should disguise myself in mortal form and speak to them for possible suggestions...
Morax shrieked again, cutting your thoughts short as you winced and looked at his scrunched face with almost dilated pupils, mother instincts going ip in an instant. Although there was still pain etched on his chubby face, it soon turned into bewilderment as Phanes continued to hold him. The light filtering through the window was soft, washing Phanes in a gentle blue. He shifted Morax slightly in his arms so the child could peer out between strands of gauze-like curtain. The baby cooed faintly, rubbing his eyes, cheeks still pink from all the crying, but quiet now. And curious about what he was seeing for the first time.
He had not seen, or focused, on the night sky of Teyvat after all.
Phanes smiled faintly at that, one hand rising instinctively to support the back of the little head, and leaned a bit closer to the windowpane. âYou see those stars?â Phanes whispered, lifting a hand to point just above the horizon where a pale constellation shimmered faintly, the blue and golden nebula almost seemingly blinking at the duo.
âTheyâre older than you. Older than most gods, even.â
He tilted his head, voice barely more than a thought now as his fond gaze soon turned to your sitting form watching hım and Morax. He couldn't help the quickening of his heart, he had been keeping his affections for you to himself for so long, almost ever since you two had started to exist together...
And he was sure of his heart doing sommersaults by the confused chirp Morax let out and lifted his head to look at him from his position of laying his head on Phanes' chest, forgetting his pain and fussing for now.
Phanes was happy that he had calmed down, despite it being thanks to his inner pain of affection for the baby's mother. At least you would be less stressed now.
âBut not older than us.â
His gaze fell back down to Morax, who blinked slowly, his golden eyes flickering with reflected starlight. For a moment, he looked like something born of the heavens themselves.
"Maybe you are older than them too, since you just appeared here out of nowhere." At that, Morax let out a huge coo and smiled wide at him as if he understood him. Phanes only smiled more with an almost fatherly aura and continue with a hand over Morax's small back.
âShe was the only thing in the universe that made me stop looking up⊠and start looking forward.â
Morax shifted slightly at his calmimg voice, a small fist curling into Phanesâ collar. The sound of his breathing was steady now, slow and soft as he listened to his father figure.
âI wonder,â he murmured, âif youâll grow up to see what I see in her. Or if youâll simply grow up loved, and never need to question why.â
But what caught your attention wasn't the heartful moment between them, or how Phanes held him so softly as if Morax was his son... Or how he talked so fondly of you and brought a redness you couldnt ignore to your face.
What caught your attention was the faint golden glow that came from Morax's mouth as he have a gummy smile to Phanes, the sight of just a tiny sharp thing at the corner that seemed like a sharp canine tooth catching your eyes.
Wait. Tooth?
You sprinted up and suddenly appeared next to them, with Phanes startling from your sudden presence and Morax letting out a shocked babble as his eyes widened comedically on you. You looked down slowly at the chunky baby and his open mouth as he tried eating his own fist. Okay, maybe it was gross with how much saliva was there, but he looked so cute with those huge amber eyes! You giggled fondly and took him between your arms, wrapping your arms around his bum securely as you rubbed his cheek and urged him to take his fist out of his mouth so that you can check for your suspicions.
And there it was, a faint bump on his gums.
ââŠTeething,â you whispered, voice hoarse in disbelief. âYouâre⊠teething.â
The baby let out a final, dramatic sob, as if saying finally, mom, and promptly drooled down your robe as you continued rubbing the sore spot. Finally at complete ease with his mother and father next to him.
Adventure 2: Dragon Form Tantrums
Before having Morax, you never noticed how strange and overwhelming everything must be like to the youth. Youâd seen children cry before. Mortals stumbling through their early days, clutching at their parents with wide, teary eyes. Youâd even soothed some with your touch, gentle as the morning breeze, and thought you understood.
Sure, the objects were much taller and bigger than anticipated and the voices were as loud as possible for their poor ears to bleed, there was something you didn't think about before. The light too bright. The air too cold. Voices too loud, even when spoken in love.
And while mortal infants reacted with tears and flailing limbsâŠ
Morax was not mortal.
Morax⊠was a baby dragon.
And you know what dragons do when theyâre overwhelmed?
They roar.
Not metaphorically. Not with a sniffle or a stomp. An actual, ground-shaking, air-trembling roar.
Oh, and apparently, they burn everything around them too.
It began as a quiet whimper first, the kind you thought meant he wanted to be held. He had been restless as of now, and no, it wasn't because of teething this time. He would hold his little forehead with his hands, sometimes headbutt things with his thick skull, yeah, you didn't know he had a literal rock-hard forehead and panicked when you saw him headbutt a marble table, and turn around on your bed as he whined.
You didn't understand what was wrong... Well, lucky for you, he would soon show it to you himself thanks to that shiny rock you got from another universe, with its blue and golden hues and shimmering surface.
It was after he and you were sitting in your chambers, with you showing things he had never seen before, as per Phanes' suggestion.
It is good for his developing brain, he should experience different structures and use all of his senses, he said as he attempted to make Morax step onto the grass... But failed since Morax would draw his legs to his body and bent himself so that he wouldn't be touching the offending creature that was this green monster.
He was even clutching his tail closer to himself too, and that made you wheeze non-stop as you bent over the table you had in your garden, the three of you out for a family time together. You couldnt jelp the giggle that escaped you when Phanes came and sat down next to you with Morax on his lap, pouting since his son wasn't showing interest in the nature like he did.
But hey, at least he got a sweet peck on ghe corner of his mouth from you as you played with his hair and rubbed Morax's belly as he gurgled happily. That was a win-win for both son and father, no?
So, since he showed great disinterest to nature, you opted to show him things inside the palace: Above the wardrobe in your room, then the map of Teyvat that appeared on your command in the meeting room, then a heavy book from library and allowed him to have it on his lap as he turned the pages.
But when you showed him the shiny rock you got him because you thought he would like it, he just stared at it with horrified eyes.
And started whining.
Not understanding what was wrong, youâd just bent down to offer your arms when his pupils shrank to pinpricks, and a golden gleam pulsed beneath his skin. His little claws dug into his robes, and arms became literal rocks as his tail stiffened, lashing once.
Your eyes widened.
âOh no.â
And then he screamed.
But not just a cry. No, this was an echoing, ancient-blooded bellow, the kind that belonged to a beast far older and larger than the soft, sniffling bundle in your arms.
Note 1: Never underestimate a baby by its sheer small size. The shorther one is, the closer they are to the gates of hell...
The curtains trembled at his roar, your porcelain tea set that was given to you by your people on Sumeru laid shattered.
A nearby plant wilted out of sheer fear, the chimera pet you created because Morax seemed too lonely, ran away in fear and right under your duvet as it peeked around.
And then... Morax burst into his miniature dragon form. Claws, scales, golden horns. Still small enough to perch on your arm, but now full of fire and emotion with no way to process either.
And heavy. Heaviver than he already was.
At this rate, I am going to have arm muscles...
He flapped his wings in raw frustration, tears still welling in his slitted eyes, and let out another high-pitched screech that sounded like a mountain cracking open as he threw the rock away from him, making it roll and roll... Until it dropped down from the edge of the balcony and right onto a poor, unsuspecting Phanes .
You stared at Morax.
Motax stared at you.
Then, another wail. Oh, and was that a ley line bloom?
You sighed, shoulders slumping.
âOh stars. Weâve reached tantrum stage.â
And that was the day you learnt he was just sensitive to Geo element and that rock gave off bad aura vibes to him.
(It was the leyline power surging through it a little bit stronger than the usual rocks on Teyvat, since it was from beyond it.)
Adventure 3: First Words
You rocked gently in your seat, swaying as you held Morax in your arms as the night breeze outside rushed in softly, almost softly caressing the sleeping baby's body like a soft blanket, your little Morax's body, as his breaths were like the warm sunlight against your collarbone.
He was quiet now, after a long day of small frustrations. A tumble he didnât know how to process, a sound he didnât like, and a smell that made his little nose wrinkle. He had cried, loud and fierce as usual, his wings trembling, little claws grasping for you in panic. And you had done all you could: hold, hum, hush, rock.
Other times, he was happy and energetic as he ran around with your people and Phanes. Sometimes it was a simple strategy game where he was a king leading his people just like his mom (read: you) did. Sometimes it was a simple chasing game, and sometimes it was hide-and-seek.
Now he was calm, blinking slowly up at you with heavy eyes, golden and wide, his thumb tucked into his mouth.
You smiled softly and tucked a curl of his hair behind a tiny horn, watching him bury himself deeper under your night gown as you two sat under the duvet while watching the night sky outside. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit you out of nowhere as you stared down at the sleepy baby between your arms, suddenly remembering the first time you found him out in the wild, lonely and defenseless.
You two had come so far together, with him changing you each day where you learned a new thing from him. Like the way he loved collecting shiny rocks, tinkering with an object in your palace that came from a distant world, crafting something from the most simple think (he once made a small vase with flowers from mud and after carefully heating it up, after many failed attempts, had presented it to you as his gift. Even to this day, that vase is still presented proudly in the palace.)
Or... The way he seemed to love spending money. You thought it was more about you being the source of Mora, which meant endless money but that is a talk for later.
All in all, just as he grew up a lot, you felt like you grew up with hım too. Once a colder, more noncholant Creator whose job was to create non-stop, now you found a passion and extra love in doing it. You were more in touch with the humanity, often visiting them in a disguise tobhear about their problems, making sure they were protected and fed. And you were more relaxed too. Not stressed and pressed to do a lot of meeting, visiting other planets and civilizations and all. Now, you let your other creations, the Angels, to do your job for you, essentially wanting them to learn the way so that maybe, you could one day retire and live as a mortal after giving your authority to them.
âYou gave me quite the scare, little one. Youâre growing faster than I thought.â
Your hands absentmindedly played with the flowing baby curls he had at the top of his hair. Suprisingly, or not, all of his attire and physical appearance screamed Geo: Amber eyes that shone like lava, brown and golden tinted hair that reminded you of the soft orange-brown hue the sky would have at the sunset...
Your son was trully the embodiment of Geo, perhaps.
He blinked again, head slowly tilting up to follow the sound of your voice. He always looked at you like you hung the stars yourself, like you had birthed the world and all its warmth. You definitely did that with the worlds. The warmth? You weren't sure about that, especially the versiyon of you before having him, but to Morax, maybe you had.
He stared for a moment longer, then opened his mouth. Then closed it again as if he was thinking about a very hard question, brows scrunched up in concentration.
And very softly, broken and hoarse in the way all first words are, he whispered:
âMa...â
Your breath caught. Your hands stilled on his hair as you heart strates to beat hard as if it threatened to burst out and hug Morax protectively.
His hand reached up and rested clumsily against your cheek, as though trying to confirm that you were really there. That this warmth, this safety, this love⊠had a name now.
âMama,â he tried again, this time a little stronger. He smiled wider at seeing your smile, proudly as he huffed his tiny chest out for making you smile.
Your heart, already so full, overflowed. And yet, your eyes might have been hurting and left to be as small spots because of the tiredness but what did it even mean when compared to what you felt right now?
It was like a whole carnaval in there! Happiness because he was growing healthy, sadness because he was growing up fast, excited because of the possibilities of the words he could learn, fear if you would be able to raise hım into a young gentleman correctly...
But for now... Perhaps, focusing on the present and using sleepy was a better choice of word.
You pressed a kiss to his brow, your lips lingering on his skin a little bit longer than a simple moment and cradled him even closer as you laid on your back, soon putting him next to yourself on his back as your hand formed a protective half-loop around his round belly, your fingers trembling slightly.
From love, çare, tenderness, fear and pride for all he was.
Huh... You used to wonder, after seeing the struggle of many mothers, why female humans were actively seeking out this struggle named motherhood. Their lives were forever changed, their body and brains, their ideals, everything would forever change and yet... Despite knowing their life as a simple woman was gone, and now their whole life and fate revolved around that tiny baby that needed guidance, the teary smiles you witnessed too many times on their faces said enough.
That the moment they held their baby was worth any struggle.
And although you didn't understand humans', despite creating them yourself... Another thing changed about you with the tiny being that was Morax.
You understood the motherhood and being ready to sacrifice it all for the safety of your own child.
And looking at the sleeping face of Morax, his cheeks squeeshed under himself and drool leaking down... You accepted that you were his mother.
Adventure 4: Possessive Baby Instincts
Youâd always known dragons could be territorial. You were the one who made them, come on, their hoarding instincts comes from you who has a thing for shiny big things!
But you hadnât expected it to manifest in the form of a pudgy, golden-eyed toddler growling at anyone who dared get too close to you. Whether it was a mortal offering flowers at your shrine, a passing bird that landed too near your shoulder, or poor Phanes trying to hand you tea, Moraxâs reaction was the same: a narrowed stare, a sharp little "Ma... ma... Mine", and the immediate claiming of your lap, sleeve, or entire torso.
It didnât matter that he was small enough to fit in the crook of your arm. He made it very clear that you belonged to him, and any creature (celestial or otherwise) who disagreed would be met with an indignant squeal and a possessive tail-wrap around your arm.
Not that it would make much difference or hurt. But it was true that he seemed scarier when he was trully angry, even your Angels agreed on it silently.
His possesiveness didn't only include others though, as most babies did. His was on another level and if anyone thought you were overreacting, there was this one accident that you would always tell them:
Morax caught a glimpse of himself in a polished mirror once, just once. His golden eyes, his horns, scales and fluffy tail and doesnât recognize himself. He thought thereâs another baby dragon and immediately becomes defensive and scared you would focus on that baby more.
The next thing you knew, he screeched angrily and attacked his reflection, headbutting it and causing it to break.
That was the day he realized he existed, and you had to try explain why a mirror did that and what a mirror was to a three-year-old toddler and why he couldn't headbutt everything he saw, something he had been doing a lot lately.
(cue your soon-to-born second son Barbatos and his nickname for Morax in the coming years)
Another event where he showed his possesiveness of his mother was social interactions.
It didnât matter whether you were speaking to a mortal child asking for help or an immortal envoy delivering news. If a conversation with you lasted longer than a few polite words, Morax would make his opinion very known. At first, it was subtle. A tiny claw curling around the edge of your robe. A low, almost imperceptible huff from where he sat on your hip. But if the interaction continued, if someone so much as laughed at something you said, his entire body would stiffen, and the little dragon in him would awaken.
Heâd squirm in your arms, puts himself between you and the offending party, and plant his palm firmly on your cheek with a possessive grunt. A clear message: Sheâs mine. No more talking. Go away.
No one did take him seriously though, not with all that chub he had.
And if that didnât work?
He'd bite. Nothing harmful though. Just a baby nibble on your collar or your sleeve, staring the other person down with narrowed, burning gold eyes while his little claws clamped into your clothes like he was anchoring himself to his claim.
What's more, he gets jealous when anyone else hugs you. He toddles over, scrunches his face as if he was disgusted by the sheer audacity of the person, and climbs on you like a koala, unwraps your arms around that person and instead hugs you to himself.
It was worse when it was a child. But you weren't gonna talk about it... Morax could hear it. He had that sixth sense. And tou were sure the very same land you created betrayed you for Morax.
You once tried to hand him to Phanes so you could focus during an important meeting with the leaders of the nations at that time. Since, you know, you are the Creator and the children needed guidance.
Morax couldn't care less. What was guidance anyways?
He responded by letting out a high-pitched roar mid-sentence as he was taken from you and flinged himself back into your lap like heâd been wrongfully exiled from his throne.
It was sweet. A little exhausting. Mostly sweet.
But it also meant you had to start conducting divine diplomacy with a dragon toddler glaring over your shoulder like a very squishy, very judgmental guardian spirit. Resulting with no one focusing on the topic and instead staring at the cute baby between your arms, cooing internally at the sight.
And sometimes, it wasn't just someone that caused his possesive streak. Sometime it was just you stepping into the next room to grab a cloth. He doesnât see you. Cue instant betrayal howling. He doesn't understand where you went, assumes you're gone forever, and lets the whole plane of existence know.
You just went to another room for five minutes.
But everything would cease to exist, all the annoyance and frustration that bubbled up inside you because you couldn't have some me-time to yourself... When he would lay over your chest, or try to seek you out whenever he was met with something strange, tears sitting at the edge of his lashes, his lips wobbly as he ran towards your form in the distance, with you closing it as you also walked to him slowly and opened your arms wide for him to settle.
He saw you as his safe space, his anchor to this world...
There were times you caught your reflection, messy hair, clothes stained with who-knows-what, eyelids heavy and almost didnât recognize yourself. You were once a being of divine power, the Creator, the one they prayed to from the mountains and the sea. But now, you were arms to be held in. A lullaby to be hummed. A heartbeat to fall asleep to.
You were his entire world.
And frankly, that mattered to you more than being the Creator of Universes.
This wasnât just motherhood. It wasn't about being the Creator and revered because of it, because people feared you more than they loved you.
It was about being chosen. Needed. Loved in the most raw, vulnerable way a child could love, without expectation, without conditions.
He didnât care that you were tired. Or that you still hadnât brushed your hair. Or that you hadn't meditated or floated among the stars in weeks. Or responded to prayers and demanded passive angrily an answer.
And to some, it may seem like selfishness and even manipulation but to you and him... You knew what this meant.
To Morax, you were just enough as the way you were.
Morax didnât understand everything when he was a baby. Not language, not memory, not even the strange ache that sometimes swelled in his chest when you stepped away. He was just a baby after all, thrusted into this world by the biological parents that was supposed to protect him but decided to let him die on the wild.
But he knew you, you who stepped up and raised him.
He knew your scent, the rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of your hands. He knew the way your voice vibrated through your chest when you hummed lullabies into his hair. He knew that your arms were the safest place in a world that still felt too big, too loud, too sharp around the edges.
When he curled against you, chest to chest, tiny claws gripping your clothes, he felt something ancient and unshakable settle inside him.
You were his.
His calm, his safe space, his home, his family...
Not in the fierce, growling way he chased off others. But in the quiet, soft way he pressed his forehead to your shoulder when he was too tired to cry anymore. In the way he reached for your finger in his sleep, just to be sure you were still there. In the little chirring sounds he made when you smiled at him, like your joy had become his own.
He didnât have the words for love. And everyone close to him knew that he was bad with expressing himself with words, and it wasn't because he was a brute like a certain teal-eyes annoying brat called him to be.
It was because showing it and making the other feel it was a better way than simply saying it hollow words.
But he gave it to you all the same, in the only ways he could at that time: messy kisses with teeth, snuggles with wings tucked tight, and the stubborn, burning need to never be too far from the one who made the world feel safe.
Morax, the God of Contracts, walked the halls with careful steps, his hands behind his back, his brows less furrowed than usual. His shoulders bore the weight of centuries, of promises, of blood spilled in honor, of War and horrors, of empires born and buried. Yet as he passed under the arched doorway into the heart of the sanctuary, his posture shifted. Eased, softened at seeing the person he was searching for.
From behind you, a voice... steady and deep, yet softened in a way it never was elsewhere sounded.
"Mother."
There stood Morax, The Geo Archon, war-forged and tempered by centuries, with eyes like polished amber and a presence like immovable stone. But those same eyes softened when they met yours, crinkling faintly at the corners in a smile few were allowed to see, the way they did when he was small and too overwhelmed to speak, and his voice softening much like the time when he was still a small boy clutching at the ends of your robes.
He had changed so much and yet not at all at the same time. How it was possible, you didn't know but maybe it was just the feeling a mother would always have when she had her children near herself after so long.
âHave you eaten today?â you asked gently, your voice untouched by time, your motherly love still present even after your children had outgrown you a lot and now you had to tilt your head up to look at them, and became the leaders of their own nations.
You expected words. There were always matters of state, of divine balance, of mortal concerns he took too heavily upon his shoulders. Especially after founding Liyue, "his baby" as you affectionately called it by how hard he was trying to protect them.
Instead, he lowered himself slowly, carefully, and sat at your feet, the way he did when he was small and the world felt too big. He rested his head against your knee, his horns and tail brushing your robes, something he always did whenever he was in your presence, not seeing it necessary to hide his true self with the only person that saw all of him throughout the times they spent together.
And just like that, he wasnât the Archon anymore.
He was your little dragon, grown tall and weary, seeking solace not in wisdom or stone, but in something far older: your touch and love.
There were no formalities between you. No kneeling, no praise. Just a boy returning to the only being who ever held him without expectation.
In the world, he was Archon. A protector. A legend.
Summary: A complaint about Aizawaâs sleeping bag spirals into a full school-wide âcocoon movement"
The first email arrives at 6:12 a.m.
By 6:20, there are nine more.
At 7:03, Principal Nezu has already created a dedicated folder for the matter and is steadily working through his third cup of tea.
At 7:15, Shota Aizawa is summoned.
He arrives worn out, with only the last scraps of energy from his night patrol left.
Aizawa grunts in response. He nudges a chair closer with his foot and drops into it.
Nezu slides a stack of printed emails across the desk.
âThere have been⊠concerns.â
Aizawa glances at them. âProblem child again?â
Nezu folds his paws together. âIt concerns you, actually.â
His gaze drifts downward. Aizawaâs bright yellow cocoon is impossible to miss.
âComplaints have been raised regarding professional standards,â Nezu continues. âMostly from Minoruâs parents.â
âYour sleeping bag,â Nezu says. âAnd the fact that you sleep during class hours. Youâll need to leave it in your quarters. It is not to be brought to school.â
Aizawaâs stare sharpens, his eyes taking on an unsettling glow.
Class 1-A realizes something is wrong almost immediately.
Aizawa-sensei has been awake the entire day.
His familiar sleeping bag is nowhere in sight, and its absence feels more noticeable than anything else. His eyes stay open through every lesson, and the effect is deeply unsettling.
It doesnât take long for rumors to spread about a possible ban on Aizawaâs most beloved item. No one can trace where it began, though a few quietly suspect it came from Nezu himself.
âI feel like his eyes havenât even blinked properly all day. Itâs kinda creepy.â Kirishima says, slouching back in his chair.
âThis is extremly concerning,â Iida agreed.
Midoriya is already scribbling furiously in his notebook. âIf his sleeping bag is removed, it could disrupt his rest cycle, which would affect classroom performance for both him and usâbut thereâs also the psychological comfort factor which might influenceââ
âSomething that small affects you that much, nerd?!â Bakugo snaps.
âProtest,â Kaminari says without hesitation.
Iida straightens at once. âAbsolutely not another protest! Disrupting class for something like this is extremely inappropriate. We cannot interfere with academic lessons or set a poor precedent for student conduct!â
The class quickly spirals into overlapping debate, voices piling on until the idea turns louder, messier, and more certain.
âWell, Deku?â Bakugo cuts in, glancing over. âIâm sure youâve already got some overcomplicated plan cooking in that head of yours.â
Everyone turns to Midoriya.
By the end of the period, a plan has formed. A messy, slightly concerning plan with no adult supervision whatsoever.
It starts with one sleeping bag.
Then three.
Then twelve.
By the next morning, the hallway no longer looks like a school corridor but a slow-moving migration of brightly caterpillars. Every student is wrapped up in them, some patterned, some aggressively neon.
âThis is a fire hazard!â Iida shouts, immediately tripping over someone and slamming into the wall.
âWe accept that risk!â Kaminari calls out, attempting a high-five and failing miserably due to restricted movement.
At the far end of the hall, Present Mic takes one look and thrives. He snaps a photo and uploads it instantly.
âYOOOO, WE GOT A FULL-ON BURRITO REVOLUTION!â #CocoonChaos #LetHimNap
The internet ignites.
Aizawa pauses mid-step, coffee still in hand, staring down the hallway.
The chaos is already in full swing, and first period hasnât even started.
Before he can react, a third-year in a camo-pattern sleeping bag barrel pasts him at alarming speed.
He simply turns around and walks the other way.
By midday, an emergency meeting is called.
Faculty fill the room, support staff murmur among themselves, and one overwhelmed intern types up the minutes at frantic speed.
The projector flickers on, revealing a series of neatly organized charts and graphs tracking attendance patterns and behavioral changes, all annotated in meticulous detail. It is clearly submitted by Midoriya.
ââŠThis is unusually thorough for a first-year report,â one staff member mutters.
âI would expect nothing less,â Nezu says pleasantly, sipping his tea.
Aizawa, already slouched in his chair, looks thoroughly unimpressed. âCan we get to the point?â
âWhile we acknowledge parental concerns,â Nezu says calmly, âwe must also consider student performance and classroom stability. To reach a compromise, Aizawaâs sleeping bag will be registeredââ
Wanderer!MC once went through a series of sleepless nights of overworking and got so desperate for a quick burst of energy that they actually experimented with coffee grounds Ă la Himeko.
And it worked out pretty well! MC got the energy they needed, and even finished and submitted all their paperwork in record time~
Except they forgot that some of their coworkers and visiting friends like to share the coffee pots.
MC, in their groggy state, unwittingly placed their brew alongside the âmainâ pots, which are meant to be shared with everyone else in the office buildingâs lounge.
So a few people drank it by mistake.
Their new brew was too strong.
It actually knocked out Pierro and Capitano and also caused Sandrone to malfunction and start reciting the entire periodic table of chemical elements.
Arlecchino: đš âYou brewed that coffee yourselfâŠ?â
Wanderer!MC: đ âYesâŠâ
Childe: đ«Ș âSenpai, I donât think coffeeâs supposed to have this effectâŠâ
Signora: đ° âWhy does it smell strangeâŠ?â <- also habitual coffee-drinker; dodged a bullet by grabbing a different pot
Anastasyaâs really channeling her inner Aglaea when she says âWhat a spectacle of folly.â đ
[âŠ]
âŠNahida once dared to drink MCâs notorious coffee brew.
Cyno & Faruzan: đ€Ż
Tighnari: đŹ
Collei: đ±
Alhaitham: đâ ïž
Venti & Zhongli: đŠ <- also victimized by MCâs coffee
Wanderer!MC: *cooked dog closing eyes in sunset*
Nahida just sits in her chair, processing the coffee she just drank.
Then she gets up and walks over to her little mini-fridge powered by a Cryo Slime.
Nahida: âWhere did I put that oat milkâŠ?â
She actually survived.
Oh my god- đ€Ł
They made a coffee worthy of Himeko's standards! And Nahida survived?!
So this is a follow up to my last comic, itâs not strictly necessary for you to have read the first one but it would help. This is going to be a five part comic about Jasonâs return to the manor, each part is going to focus on one character at a time leading up to Bruce. Next up is Tim.
(Also I googled Alfredâs height and it ranges from 5â8â to 6â0â, Iâm taking the lower end of the scale jsyk)
So I've seen people comparing the new Odyssey movie to Epic the musical, and here on Tumblr it's mostly people dunking on the movie by saying Epic is better. So of course this leads to fans of the movie to try and hit back by criticizing Epic, especially in other sites, and imma stop you right there buddy.
Epic the musical was a dude's senior project at theater school that got popular on TikTok. Said dude is Jorge Rivera-Herrans and when you google his name the first thing that shows up is the Fandom Wiki because he doesn't have a wikipedia page. Almost every singer in the musical is completely unknown because auditions were held on TikTok and if you don't listen to the songs already knowing that you'd never guess. The entire thing is available for free on youtube.
The Odyssey is a 3 hour long movie with a 250 million dollar budget directed by a guy with a really long wikipedia page and staring actors you're probably sick of seeing so often.
Neither of them are accurate tellings of Homer's Odyssey, and both of them can be criticized by viewers, but if you're gonna compare the two in any serious way instead of making a meme then you have to take these factors into consideration.
Personally, if someone gifts me a scarf they crocheted themselves and I notice a few spots where they missed a stitch I'll point it out if they ask for criticism to improve in their craft. But I'll still have warm and fuzzy feelings for the scarf, and the missed stitches feel endearing.
If I paid 999999999 bazillion dollarydoos for a pure silk scarf encrusted with diamonds and i notice a bunch of missing stitches you can bet your ass I'll be a Karen about it.
