To all the gods who bless us with life, and to all those who will recieve us in that which comes after. Blessed Be. 18+ . Fanfic writer (sometimes) AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEzraielVirgo
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GENSHIN IMPACT
Something not so sacred series
Something not so sacred
Morning Twilight
Dawn
Sunrise
Arcana
Vitalia
Callisto
Concordia Augusta
Ad Infinitum
Eros Infinitum
Serenitas
Crepusculum (Trigger warnings at the start of the post)
Mirabilia
Jubilo
Divintatis Chronum
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Side quest fanfic (for funsies)
When did you get hot? (I gave up trying to upload it to tumblr the site kept refusing)
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My AO3 (it's the exact same things, just for any of you who want it ig)
Stasis. That is the state you have inhabited for years- decades maybe now. You could not tell. One where you are rendered unable to even speak using your own tongue, think with your own mind, move- just once to hug those you love with your own body. So fickle a thing it seems now, after centuries spent beside those you loved until that damned day-
“The day you foresaw has come.” Morax’s voice is low as he shifts into the humanoid form, having returned from Celestia after a summons- the only summons, your contract allowed them. You cannot say you are surprised it is for this. “We have been given the order to ensure Khanrei’ah falls. No mistake to be made, no way to get past it with the minimum amounts of effort. We must accompany the rest of the seven in this.”
Guizhong was pacing by then, back and forth and back and forth and-
Your head is ringing.
She barely escaped death due to your interference that day so long ago. But with this? The Abyss coming forth so aggressively? Could you even-
“Breath.” Morax’s voice is a soft balm to your worry as his tail finds it’s way around you, Guizhong in his hold now- safe, as she tries to calm down. “No one thing can cause harm to any of us as long as we remain together. I will mobilize the adepti as you saw best little dove, in order to protect Liyue in our absence. Then we may leave, and promise me, the both of you, never to get out of my sight.” You could only feel yourself nod- barely.
You felt hollow, in a ways facing this inevitability- your heart had dropped so low into the earth it’s beats were muffled, so far away you could barely feel it. Everything passed as had been planned- the Adepti, ready to shatter the ground in order to open the Chasm and cease the advance of the Abyss from Sumeru, read to awaken Osial if need be and something were to happen to all three of you.
It was hauntingly easy, that final fight. The civilians screaming was a muffled sound at the back of your mind, overtaken by the roars of riftwolves and Ruin Guards and-
“Steady your hand.” Guizhong, closer to you now as you cover Morax’s back in the little trinity you had all become accustomed to. Your bow paving the way forward, Guizhong with her own attacks to disorient, and Morax- shield and executor of any who stepped into it’s bounds. It was perfect in it’s harmony- a sonority only your ability could have given. You suppose that is what made this all the worse.
A few days, weeks maybe, then the godless nation fell. It’s people with it, reduced to beasts that could not even-
Your heart could not handle such cruelty on so large a scale. Damnation of thousands for the sins of five- if only you could’ve-
It smells of grass now. Home, you suppose. It was barely a few steps into the borders of that land before you collapsed. You knew not why then- they know not why still. And since then you have been just…sinking, in this undefinable space. This void that seems keen to swallow you whole as 2000 years of memories pass by your eyes.
“What a domestic life you have shaped”. Right, that.
It had been long, since you last heard it speak. Muffled in past and now-
“You cannot escape hearing me Descender.” If you knew where they were, you would be giving them the glare of your life. But you didn’t. You couldn’t tell where up and down were any longer. Could not find yourself within yourself. Could not awaken again.
This was not death, you still heard too much for that- Guizhong and Morax’s soft words as they visited wherever you had been placed. The Adepti, holding celebrations now in the presence of- your unconscious self. If only to try include you in all as they once had.
“Ganyu has grown quite a bit now. She learns the bow well. Seeks to be as good as you once were” What useless chatter
“The Adeptus have moved into different spaces across Liyue. It will only grow to be a safer nation still. It will be perfect once you return.” What a fleeting concept perfection is. What useless hope to think-
You will return. Whatever it is making itself known within your mind again will not change that. Your heart lies with two others- two thirds of what make you all whole. The Gnosis is blinding whenever you recall that love- so unyielding, so steadily forged over two millennium-
“You speak such ills within their mind. It is unnecessary, their mind needn’t be broken for this,” if a name was spoken to the entity thereafter, you did not hear it, but the voice- that voice-
“I will take it from here.” You barely noted that grating presence take it’s leave as you realized who it was speaking, what presence now utterly held your mind in it’s grasp as it had that day in Celestia so long ago, had forced your will down into nearly nothing in a matter of seconds-
Phanes.
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
The ruler of the heavens was kind enough to return…some semblance of a body to you as they spoke. The plains of your mind were painted in Celestia’s image at the brush of their hand, and they walked- not even looking back to you, simply giving one order.
“Follow, Descender.” And you did. Not that you could do otherwise as the world rebuilt itself around you both with each step. The form they assumed now- he assumed now, would be one to make your head reel if you had not learnt some form of fortification during the last few centuries you've had alive.
A perfect mirror of Morax, yet only with blue shining eyes and hair whiter than direct light of the sun. Was it an attempt at comfort compared to the mind breaking true form they wielded the last they spoke to you? You did not know. You could not ask.
“Sit.” A chair forms, and your ‘body’ does as ordered within a moment, Phanes doing the same where he now faces you. Legs crossed, head leaned on his hand with his foot tapping to some unseen rhythm- relaxed as if talking to an old friend. “You have been quite an unexpected thorn in my side in the time you have been here. Shifting the story written within the leylines as you have this cycle. Know you how much work has been undone due to it? How many gods and mortals alike will be born and unborne due to this?”
Confusion must’ve laced your face, because they- The Divinity, ruler of the heavens, sighed- unnaturally human in gesture, even as it echoed. “You needn’t play dumb. We have been watching you a long time now, your actions or lack thereof. Your choices. Your words. You are not of this world- not of this plane, yet here you stand.”
Shit. You had not realized- everything you had said was to happen, every word you told Morax and Guizhong and-
“Temper yourself. I have no time for panic.” Alright, rude. Yet even as he spoke he waited for the beating drums of a heart- not your heart certainly, but a heart within your possession in this thing not your body- to pass. “I will make this quite simple.” He lifts a hand, and before it forms the very contract that had been stricken with Celestia and the three of you who now held the geo gnosis. Oh, oh no he couldn’t-
“Since you seem so adept at such…entertaining contracts, I would like to propose one to you. Descender to Descender.” His face twisted in what you could almost call a smile, his eyes boring into yours with a presence so heavy you could feel your lungs simply cease to expand with air, the last of his words ringing like a death knell in the bounds of your mind.
You knew well how Morax operated- sharing his bed for three years does that to a person. But in this scenario…well, if there is anything you love, it is when he is serious- such as when figuring out a contract, or rather-
“You will need to understand that there will seem to be an…imbalance for a time, if this is to go forward as you seek it Guizhong.” He is sat beside her, tail coiled around her waist as if to comfort her but you knew better- keep her from bolting.
She had been staring at you both with wide doe eyes for the last hour since her confession. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen and you had to be- more than once- held back by Morax from kissing her cheek or forehead or those little cupid's bow lips of hers-
Morax glances at you, and only sighs amused at the clear plotting in your gaze, speaking your name in low warning. “I know you want to eat her alive, trust me the sentiment is shared, but do stop contemplating ways to fluster her as we figure this out. Please, for her sanity if not mine.” Your eyes lift to him, and almost instantly they soften, and you nod. There is little you would not do at his behest. So you will try restrain yourself. For now. Parts of yourself you were unaware had a head to rear were gnawing at the bars of their enclosures nearly the very moment Guizhong had melted into your kiss. Morax’s words were distant as you recalled the sensation that lasted for a second and an eternity.
Guizhong, trying- truly trying- to listen to Morax, nearly chokes on air as she watches your tongue slip out over your lips in search of any remnant of her. The god, meanwhile, only pinches the bridge of his nose, his finger barely lifting before the ground beneath you rolls, slowly bringing you to him, and he only pulls you into his lap, dipping you down against the pillows, his head dropping low so that his words are delivered directly into your ear.
“If you do not quit being such a little minx I will sit you here with no company but my fingers in your mouth and your sight hindered behind my tail, am I understood dove?” the threat, is punctuated with a slight lick of his forked tongue over your ear lobe, then a drop of his lips to your neck where the bite barely a couple hours old burns at the proximity to it’s creator. You stood little chance, truly. Your brain rendered to nothing as you only nod in answer to his words, receiving a soft hum of approval, and a far too brief press of his lips to yours before he lifts his head back to Guizhong, fixing his posture, leaving you there- strewn across his lap with your chest rising and falling quickly.
“As I was saying.” He continues as if entirely unaffected, and Guizhong-
She only gapes. She had know your dynamic with Morax had changed at some point last year- figured out why after she noted the bites on your thighs and chest the morning after her own little realization but watching it play out?
“That’s hot” the words seem to be exhaled out of her, interrupting Morax for only a moment before he chuckles, and his tail tightens it’s hold on her, drawing her closer to him.
“Ah, what am I to do with two of you I wonder.” His hand lifts to brush against her face- fleeting, testing, teasing. The gold of his eyes, usually as radiant as the sun, deepens into a darker more earthy tone as he watches Guizhong mindlessly lean into the touch- lean into his lead, and internally, he both cusses out and thanks any higher power that put him here for his patience.
Externally however, all you both observe- you from your lower angle looking up at the god and Guizhong, eyes already hazing over as he runs a thumb over her lips, is his usual gentle mask fall into a smirk you have come to know well-
One he reserves for the days he intends to ruin your capability to think, let alone move. Days that had been becoming more and more frequent the closer you got to-
What was the date again?
You sit up barely enough to look at the small replica of Teyvat that Morax kept on his desk- one that moved and changed with the world itself, watching the shadow of the sun and quickly making the calculations from it’s tilt and where the light hit it-
Three weeks before the Spring Solstice. The exact turning point of the cycle Morax had spoken to you of. The mark of that period where he begins to become more dragon-qilin than god. And looking back at him now, you see it-
The much sharper way he stares into Guizhong’s eyes as she is pulled too into his lap- her legs sitting beside yours, the way his hand seems to find her pulse to listen for a moment, before it drops to hold her hand once again- tender, sweet, careful- trapping.
Oh, what a day for this all to happen.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Morax knew his own power well. Felt the excess Geo come alive when you both were sparring. Felt the way he had become so acutely aware of every breath you took, every arc of your body to weave past his strikes and try deliver your own. Every feral grin you shot him whenever you succeeded. Knew it meant trouble the second that Guizhong’s confession, rather than trigger pause, only spurred him to want her closer to. To want her reeking of him, of you. To wish to devour her little gasp when your hand found his where he wished he could feel skin- the way he does now.
How lucky, that her dresses hold such miniscule slits up the sides- unseen, irrelevant in day to day but now-
His hand found it quickly. The dragon within him purred at the feel of her skin, at the feel of her shudder. He leaned in just slightly, eyes locked on hers.
“You both make it very difficult for a god to think.”
Guizhong felt each word resonate in the pit of her stomach, felt the tone rewire her brain into hyperdrive- watched it do something similar to you. She could barely linger on it before he kissed her- properly kissed her- the moment after.
You did not think you would ever truly find pleasure- even minutely- at anything of the like, but the sight of Morax- large, unyielding, strong Morax- nearly enveloping Guizhong as he kissed her like he was starved for it, did things to your brain chemistry you do not have the vocabulary to describe. So did the small whine Guizhong released when he pulled back and she chased for a second.
You find yourself echoing Guizhong’s earlier sentiment- that is hot.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The next morning of, you are- as per usual, being crushed alive by Morax. The god is nothing if not heavy. And yet as you take in a soft breath, you’re met by the smell of Glaze Lillies, and your eyes pull open, slowly, to the sight of Guizhong staring down at you as if still in disbelief.
“Morning.” Her voice is quiet, scared still, even as her hand finds it’s way into your hair. Slowly- as not to wake the currently still sleeping dragon on your stomach and legs, you free a hand, bringing it up to cup her face, and smile as you return her soft greetings of the morning. A slight tug down is all she needs- oh how it comes so easy fitting between you two- to bend down and meet your lips with hers. You feel her blissful little sigh as she slowly pulls away, her eyes opening with a lethargic slowness- as if she is still waking into the world (she had been awake for an hour but spent the entire time staring at you two). “Mm, I could get used to that.” You laugh softly at her breathy words, and peck her lips, only pausing a moment as you felt Morax shift and finally finally wake up.
“Being all sweet with each other so all I’m left with is the sass are you?” His head lifts off your stomach eyes locking onto your face first- a dopey smile blooming to life, before he looks at Guizhong, still stunned yet there, with you both.
She felt like she was dreaming still. Like the tranquillity of the morning was something so precious- and it truly, really was to her. She lets out a soft little giggle- a giggle- in turn for Morax’s words, the sound only muffled as he came up just slightly to meet her in a stolen kiss of his own, feeling her smile on his lips before he pulls back and dips to give you the same treatment. The same gentle, sleepy love you had come to cherish. It didn’t feel unknown and uncharted, not really. Having a third to add into the routine. And you all felt it as eventually you left the bed to begin your mornings proper.
Didn’t feel it when Morax slipped into the bath chambers alone because having you anywhere near him undressed is bound to end in something breaking (again)- and because Guizhong, in all her usual bubbliness- was still blushing like a little girl each time either of you looked at her with anything beyond the usual friendly affections she had known for the last decade and a half- almost.
Didn’t feel it when you yawned as you brushed her hair after her own shower. When Morax kissed you softly in the middle of the session- then her, with his hand at your back to support himself as he leaned down to where she sat in the chair facing the mirror. When he left you both alone with that glowing buzz of something comfortable yet so new clinging to him.
And especially not when you kissed her shoulder as she finished getting dressed in one of your gowns for the day (the conversation had last night went on so long you were both conked out against Morax before the thought to get anything of hers crossed any of your minds).
Yes, there were some alterations to be made- the dress was not a perfect fit but it worked. Pulled a smile from her as she watched you get dressed after helping her into the piece just as she had you into the first of your dresses so very long ago. None of it, felt like it did not belong in your schedules.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“You’re a very ethereal kind of pretty when you sleep has Morax told you that?” Guizhong’s comment is almost absentminded as you both head to Xianyun’s abode for breakfast. You nearly choke on air at the comment- at the flirting spoken so casually. The tease has the nerve to glance at you over her shoulder grinning whilst she continues on past where you had paused at the comment. Why you-
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The Adepti, were greeted- first thing in the morning- by Guizhong’s excited screeching as you chased her into the abode. Indarius watched- seemingly unbothered- as you both circled the table over and over again, your words here then there as you lovingly chided Guizhong for some thing or the other even as you sprinted around the table to catch her.
All of them watched as the elder goddess’ screams of delight turned into laughter when you caught her- lifted her- and spun her about just a bit before putting her down and saying something into her ears that had her freeze and turn beet red.
Xianyun only sipped her tea as you took her seat. “So, I assume they didn’t say no?” Guizhong’s head whipped to her, a hiss of ‘Xianyun’ slipping out of her mouth before she lets out a squeak- an honest to gods squeak- of surprise as Morax came in from one of the strategy rooms in the abode, and simply picked her up to sit her at his right hand, where you sat at his left, before he assumed his place at the head of the table.
“No, old friend. We didn’t say no.” The tea kettle floated over, filling all three of your cups as the rest of the adepti and yaksha watched the trio for a few moments before at last-
“Does that mean Aunt Guizhong is also going to be your Empress Uncle Mo?” Multiple spitakes were had at Ganyu’s innocent comment- spoken as she struggled to reach for some bread in the middle of the table. Bonanus was choking on some of her tea, whilst Bosacius was keeled over, cackling loudly- mirrored by Moon Carver’s own laughter.
Morax’s ears went a slight hint of gold as he blushed- only deepening at the look you shot him over the rim of your cup, as if quietly asking ‘your empress?’ in that teasing drawl that drives him nuts before he coughed, glancing away for a moment to recollect himself before looking back at the table.
“I suppose you could say that little one.” His tone is kind- never anything but with Ganyu- when he responds, and the girl only gives him a childish- toothy smile (even if one of her canines were currently missing), before she lets out a small cheer of victory as she finally grasps ahold of her bread.
Many, of the adults in the room are still either keeled over and wheezing (Bosacious, Moon Carver and now, a suddenly understanding Alatus of all people), or coughing into their hands as they try not to laugh (everybody else).
Guizhong only sinks lower in her seat, tugging up the fabric of your dress to hide her face, her words a murmur.
“I hate all of you.” Which is promptly followed by a near choral-
“Love you too.” From all the girls in the room- save for you, who only shakes your head amused. This family is insufferable. But you all love it that way anyways.
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@arluene7688
It seems Guizhong knew herself rather well, as it was barely a single year before-
“I’ve fallen in love with Morax and-” her voice cracked on your name as she covered her face with her hands, hiding from the genuinely astounded looks on Xianyun, Indarius, Bonanus, Streetward Rambler (Now calling herself Ping for young Ganyu’s sake) and Menogias’ faces.
“I’m going to request you repeat yourself you’re what.” The last syllables of the sentence go up a few octaves as Xianyun finally speaks, after silence sits in the room for a solid minute like a loaded Guizhong ballista (pun unintended).
“I’m in love with them?” She spread some of her fingers off her face to open one eye and look at the others. The gaping stares did little to calm her unsteady heart. “I know full well that this is bad because they’re together and so perfect together and are so in sync and she was in love with him for a decade and I helped her get with him but-” she’s cut off by a pillow to the face, Bonanus rolling her shoulder after delivering the direct throw.
“Do you realize how many years of denying the three-way-dating allegations you admitting this has undone? I have barely just managed to convince Bosacious’ block headed self and now-“ Indarius sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is such ill timing. The mid-century approaches and you know how Morax gets during this year.”
Guizhong groaned, and brought the pillow back to her face to scream into it.
It had entirely slipped her mind (Impressive, considering her near photographic memory). Morax’s cycle came about every 50 years- a time where he was less rational and more beast. A time that, you no doubt, had been preparing for over the last few months with him after you both breached the topic she forces away her memory of your highly flustered self flopping onto her couch when you came to ask for some advice from that which you considered your closest friend.
Her answer comes as a muffled whine of dejection. “He’s going to be a territorial bastard.” Menogias snorts and only shakes his head.
“You act as if there is ever a time he is not a territorial bastard. My word of advice old friend, tell them before that season strikes. I promise you it’ll save you some headache. And them. Who knows, perhaps it’ll draw you into the fold.” She lifts her head to glare at the Yaksha, throwing the pillow at his head as her face goes beet red- much to the amusement of the rest present.
After they calm from the bout of laughter, Xianyun speaks, now much calmer- serious- as she looks at Guizhong. “I stand with his observation. We do not need another decade of yearning and loving from a distance to live through. Please, spare us, and yourself, the struggle of watching that happen. Once is enough for the century.” Guizhong huffs, and only grabs a pillow to hug, quiet for a moment before she speaks once more, voice small-
“What if they do not return the feelings? See me as only a friend that…” Indarius shared a look with Ping, before they both moved, picking Guizhong up by the arms and hauling her out of the lounge.
“Gods forbid you be the one who asks this question. Tell them, it’s better to know. You said as much to the lady of the house did you not?” Indarius’ words are an annoyed grumble as they continue walking- right to the training grounds that you, Morax, Alatus and even little Ganyu, occupy.
Of course, never ones to miss out on a show of some sorts, the rest of the adepti (and yaksha) follow them out of the room, sipping on their tea still as Guizhong is unceremoniously dropped before Morax, who stills in his spar with you.
“And this?” His spear vanishes as he looks at Indarius, then to Ping- then turns entirely to the rest who freeze with their drinks and snacks halfway to their mouths.
You, meanwhile, look to Guizhong, your eyes conveying the silent question- ‘what is happening?’- responded to only by a shake of the flustered goddess’ head.
Ping, as soon as Morax looks away, steps over to grab the young Ganyu and back up just slightly as if bracing to run- which, if the next words spoken by Bonanus are any indication- was exactly the plan.
“We’re all too old to sit through this a second time. So I’ll spare us all the headache. Guizhong is in love with you both, and too terrified to say it herself. Please just spare us the struggle of watching a repeat happen.” A pointed look is sent at you as the latter part of the statement is spoken, before promptly, the entire group runs off- Menogias only grabbing Alatus by the shoulder to drag him along.
“Traitors.” Guizhong mutters, slowly standing and dusting her dress of the sand, before she lifts her head to you both, her entire face going red before she even thinks to utter a word of defence.
Morax’s hair was tied back, but it lies in a looser mass at his- bare- back. His arms still pulse with golden veins as residual elemental energy makes it’s way out of his system back into the earth. And oh is the sight so deadly- the way his body shifts as he holds out a hand for the water you had brought over, the flex of his fingers to relax them before he takes the cup, the bob of his adams apple as he swallows keeping his eyes right on her- watching, waiting.
And you…oh, she did not think there could be anything more beautifully devastating. Your bun stays in place yes- a few hairs made a mess at your forehead, stuck onto it by sweat. Your eyes gleaming with that faint haunting glow only Sonority ever draws forth. The veins of your neck and chest and down to your legs alive with Geo energy. Arms now carved to hold and utilize the array of weapons you had taken the time to learn. A faint ray of the sun onto your skin draws her attention to a slightly duller spot- to multiple duller spots- a bite mark on your shoulder, a healed bit of waist that had clearly been marred by nails once, the faint imprint of scales still on your thigh from where Morax’s tail had no doubt held you still and steady for hours on end.
The vision of you both rendered her breathless for at the very least the five minutes it took you to steady your breathing to a pace of rest again. Morax, just slightly inclined his head, still waiting, patient, as unwavering as stone.
“Dare I ask?” his words are gentle, yes but heavy with implication- is that which we are told true, or jest?
Guizhong parts her mouth once- shuts it, tries again- pauses as her brain tries to catch up again from where it had ceased just a few moments prior failing to process that which she was looking at- then finally, speaks. “She…no, no she wasn’t joking.” Her head drops to look at her feet, and she kicks at the sand a few times, before her heart catches in her throat as a finger tilts her head back up to meet a set of eyes- yours. A smile is the first response she gets, before you look at Morax, lifting a brow and holding out a hand.
He sighed, and from thin air it seemed, formed a few mora that were swiftly encased by a bag which he hands to you. “I see I remain as dense as always.”
Guizhong blinks a few times, confused, and only utters one word to seek clarification. “What?”
You smile, and only kiss her cheek as you head to one of the benches, letting Morax approach, running a hand through his hair to push it back.
“She had told me about eight months ago that something was…off with you. You were jittery, shyer around us both. Beet red, whenever you saw us kiss. Figured rather quickly that it was a crush.” He sighs, and crosses his arms, amused yet fond as he looks down to her and gives a small smile. “I told her I did not believe it was so. We made a bet of it and…well.”
He barely restrains his affectionate eye roll as you call out a quick quip of victorious and ‘I told you so’ energy from where you began your stretches. “I lost.” He muttered.
Guizhong felt the world pause for a second. You knew? For eight months too, how did you-
She lets out a soft gasp of surprise as Morax’s hand finds hers, drawing her back to the present moment. “I see where the dove learned her habit of mentally wandering off rather than talking to me. Yes, she knew. And we discussed it, me moreso to humor her theories….I see now that they will need to be executed.” He lifts her hand slowly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, before she feels a slight tug, then warmth.
His hand dropped to coil around her waist, keeping her steady, keeping her calm as her head lifted to meet his eyes- hers wide eyed with surprise.
“I don’t…think I understand fully, you two discussed this possibility?” She goes red when she feels Morax’s affirming hum vibrate from his chest through her body. Turns a deeper shade as gently she feels your hand sit just against Morax’s, your fingers intertwining over the fabric of her dress.
“We did. And so, I ask you forgive me for this.” Morax smiled just slightly, his eyes catching on yours as your head settled on her shoulder to watch him, her words a stuttering mess as she tries- and fails to ask why she would need forgive him, words that are soon silenced by the testing brush of his lips on hers.
Her heart goes still the second she processes what he just did. Her brain follows as your available hand reaches up, turning her head to you, and your lips too, find hers- as if to steal the taste of Morax’s and flood her senses with only you- only your light.
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
Morax cannot help his satisfied chuckle as he watches Guizhong tense- stuck between you both- feeling every little shift of your muscles like a fire through her dress right to her skin. His head lowers just slightly to press a soft kiss to the top of her head when she pulls away from you to breath, or rather, stand there panting as her brain struggled to catch up to the realization that you both just kissed her.
The gentle coo of your voice- soft words of adoration as you brush your thumb over her face- draw her back out of the spiral she had fallen into, and Morax, in all his knowledge, only tugged her closer against him, waiting for her to blink, before he spoke.
“I believe that answers your question on where we stand yes?”
She nods, then shakes her head- stops, and nods again. You laugh- so gentle, so teasing. Yet you cannot help yourself.
This goddess- this force of nature so unyielding that it faced down Morax in days of yore, that it looked him right in the eyes as his draconic form rippled and glided through the air, and demanded that he protect her people, and continued to do so over and over again until he agreed- stood now a blushing, stuttering mess. All because of one little kiss. You couldn’t help but find it adorable. Couldn’t help but tell her as much- with a few nips to her ear as complimentary treats to yourself.
And, as if trying to drive her deeper into the madness of love you both already occupied, Morax, lifted her- one handedly mind you- and began his walk over to his own abode. A brief glance over his shoulder was all it took for you to join them, smiling to yourself as Guizhong brought her hands to her face to hide her blush.
“I believe, there is much we all, must discuss now then. Let us do so inside.” Your hand found his, your head sometimes tilting back to look at Guizhong who now remained hidden in her own cocoon of embarrassment- calling you to laugh so brightly, that the Adepti and Yaksha- now hidden in Xianyun’s abode, shared looks at the echo of the sound.
“She is not coming out of that thinking straight.” Menogias muttered.
“You speak as if anything about whatever arrangement is about to walk out of those doors tomorrow morning is going to be straight.” Xianyun sipped her tea, clearly amused even as Ganyu played about with her hair. The comment, only receives a few snorts of laughter from the other adeptus and a few amused head shakes from some of the Yaksha.
There is only half a moment of silence before-
“Is this a bad time to mention I have zero clue what is happening?” Alatus.
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TW!! Discussions of loss of children. (Barely Descriptive) smut. You can tell it's happening. MDNI, please. Take care of yourselves.
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@arluene7688
The evening was…calm. Too calm you reckon, considering the usual schedule meant at the very least four of the Adepti and Yaksha are sparring over the hours of the sunset that now enlightens the mountain range you all live upon. That was, of course, until you got to the top of Mt. Hulao and barely, just barely missed the arc of water that was splashed your way.
They were- well, most of them were- in the water of the lake, relaxed as if it were a hot spring- which, if the distinct thrum of geo and pyro you sensed beneath the surface of the water- it was for the time being. Your mouth parts about to ask but-
“We have received happy news, from one of our more…distant friends. Come, join us please.” Menogias spoke, before he submerged himself beneath the waters. You looked around at the others who similarly, were near vibrating with their excitement- or entirely mentally clocked out, such as the pair you quietly watch as Indarius and Alatus- holding hands like otters- floated past on the water with their eyes shut. Xianyun stifled her cackle at the baffled expression on your face as your head slowly turned to follow the duo, then back again to look at Guizhong who sat on one of the stepping stones leading to the doors of Xianyun’s abode from the central island of the lake, swinging her feet in the water. She only smiled, and nodded her head, a quiet way to call you over.
Slowly, as you walk over to her, sliding off your shoes and sitting next to her, she speaks-
“Morax has gone to…collect, I suppose we can say, the reason for our excitement. It is an old friend of sorts, though she is barely much older than you.” She? What- or rather, who could this-
Your thoughts cut off as you spot the oh so regal Exuvia begin it’s descent from above the clouds- Morax catching your eye during the process and the second he notices, he seems to show off just a little, the ground thrumming with geo energy as he circles- scales rippling in a way so akin to his muscles in humanoid form, glowing with that power, before landing.
And on his back, as your attention is drawn to the figure by Xianyun’s excited squeal (you did not know the woman could make such a noise), is a young girl, with blue hair and red and black ho- Ganyu.
Barely more than a preteen it seems, held by an elder male figure- human, if your sight did not deceive you. Her father you realize. Already coming closer to the end of what was, no doubt a brilliant human life. You try to recall all you knew, realized that you thought she’d be older- and then let out a soft huff of laughter when Xianyun catches the teen adeptus when she slides off Morax’s back into her waiting arms. You cannot help your smile at Xianyun’s clear excitement, barely restrained even as she helps the human man down and pulls him far enough away that Morax can shift into his humanoid form- his primary form as far as you care to acknowledge the difference (you don’t, he’s a good cuddle in all three, horns or no).
“Theres my favorite little one.” Another bit of whiplash to your brain. Guizhong had just said that she is barely older than you and yet she was a child in form-
You’re broken out of your inner ramblings by a kiss to the top of your head, and you tilt it back just slightly to look at Morax, giving him the lovestruck smile you cannot seem to ever wipe off your face when around him.
“Your brain is operating at a volume so loud I’ve no doubt the people of the furthest villages of Liyue have heard it.” Teasing bastard. You slap his leg at the comment, drawing a chuckle from him as he sits just barely behind you and Guizhong, tail coiling around your waist and pulling you down to lay your head on his legs. “I jest. What plagues your mind my love?” His hand finds it’s place on your cheek, and he just barely tilts his head in question, before you sigh, and voice the thought that whirls about your mind now-
Guizhong cannot help her small laugh when she realizes why the question has come about. “Ah, that.” She giggles, and lays down on Morax’s other side, yelping when his hand keeps her head off the now wet stone, and places it on his thigh.
“We do not need you falling ill Guizhong.” A low murmur, an order made of care. You cannot help the laugh you release at her embarrassed blush when her eyes just briefly meet his as if about to argue, shut down with only the lift of his eyebrow as if daring her to go against his word. She grumbles something to herself (where the words are drowned out by the delighted shriek Ganyu lets out when her father, cheered on by Moon Carver and Mountain shaper, jumps into the water with her in his arms.)
Morax’s head lifts to watch the interaction, and he only smiles to himself as all the rest flock around the pair initiating some game or other, before he turns his gaze back to you. “Guizhong is not incorrect, if we use only years in the way of describing age. Ganyu is almost 30, barely much older than yourself. Although, I suppose, it is easier to describe it as thus- your own years are…originally, at the very least, counted using the human measure of maturity. Consequentially, even to us, you are an adult, much the way Ganyu’s father is- even if you may not be so human any longer. Ganyu, even if the age of a human adult, is half adeptus, and thus she is...barely more than a human eight year old, in the terms of her stage of growth. Mentally and otherwise.” You blink, your mind clearly trying to place the two timelines side by side and drawing blanks before Guizhong speaks, quieter, as if trying not to intrude on the little bubble you and Morax always seem to form between yourselves when conversing.
“In short, though she is, slightly older than you in terms of time spent on the…world, I suppose we can say, she is still a child in her stage of growth. So, you are both older and younger than her, and her vice versa.”
“I doubt that helped clear it up much Guizhong.” The comment is muttered by Morax, who only lets out his own sound of amusement at the look on your face as you gradually begin to make sense of it, before finally, after a few beats you let out a sound of understanding, and Morax’s tone is very much highly amused as he continues; “I stand corrected.” He dodges the light bash of Guizhongs hand to his chest at the admission, his chuckle a low rumble that vibrates the step below you just slightly as if an extension of himself. (You will never get used to it)
“I’m rarely ever bad at describing and explaining things Morax.” She mutters, laying her head back down to watch the young girl play about with her- self appointed- elder siblings, aunts and uncles. Morax only snorts in response to Guizhong, letting his hand draw itself down your cheek to brush the tips of his fingers against your neck, just as he too, watches Ganyu and the rest reunite and play.
Your eyes, meanwhile, cannot help but be drawn to the sight of both their faces- the quiet peace they both only ever express when watching children be children, and you remembered something that you were told by Bonanus oh so long ago.
“Adeptal children are…rare, now. And only increasingly becoming more and more scarce after the archon war.” She turned her blade over to continue polishing it as you watched in an attempt to learn the process yourself. “Almost all of us had once…had, a child in some sense or the other. Adopted after the deaths of their parents…born, to us and alive for only so long before they were ripped away from us. It is a place of great hurt to those who remain. The knowledge that the future’s of so many- the lives of so many- were cut short before we could even truly begin to know them.” Her head lifted, watching your face as you tried (and failed) to discreetly wipe your tears as the pain of her own voice coiled it’s way around your heart and tugged as it hit you just how many of your family have likely gone through the same pain repeatedly over their long lives.
“With so few adeptus left now…even Morax has advised against going about with the same abandon we once had. Mortal lovers never live long enough, half mortal children are bound to die long before you do. It is an attempt to protect all our hearts, even if his own carries a similar ache from coming to know and loosing all of our young.” She huffed, turning her eyes back to the blade as if to try draw her mind away from the memories and back into the present. “It is for that reason, that we all celebrate just one adeptal child with all of our combined love whenever they come around. Half, or no. It is the least we owe them…and ourselves.”
And before you now, was one of two, that you were aware would come to be- and even through the laughter and shrieking and water, you could see the weight.
A half abandoned hold of one’s stomach where a womb would be, a look in the eyes from the elder male adepti as they watch Ganyu run about the edge of the water giggling that barely screams of yearning-
And from those who you love most- your best friend and your lover- looks of understanding empathy and joy, somehow, at watching them all with the young one. It broke your heart all over again, watching the way Streetward Rambler brushed a tear off of Bonanus’ face- disguised as a dunk into the water (which was followed by laughter from all around, watching the so much smaller adeptus take the much larger and stronger Yaksha down and into the river)- or the oh so subtle tightening of Morax’s tail around you.
They all yearned for children loved and lost and poured it all into Ganyu now where she was with them all. It was their way to cope, you figured. And it worked- if the melancholic joy that permeated in the air, was slowly becoming more playful joy than melancholy.
You could live with that, you suppose. Even if Morax, Guizhong and your face’s became a direct target to more than one shot of water from the group to draw a laugh out of the little one.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The (false) moon hung at the apex of the sky now, as you laid awake in bed, fingers absentmindedly drawing patterns on Morax’s back as you let your thoughts simmer. The god was, as asleep as you would expect from one still unlearning the ever-alert state he had been in for the hundreds of years of war that had only come to an end so recently in the eyes of adepti, with their warped perception of time. Which meant he had his face completely against your stomach, an arm around your legs and one hand on your thigh, his other hand holding your own free hand- which you suppose may have given you away as his head lifted just slightly, golden eyes creeping open, and voice so, so illegally low and groggy when he spoke.
“You’re still awake little dove. That is unlike you.” Your hum of response seemed not to be much, as he pressed a kiss over your belly button before he pulled himself up to meet you at face level, his head falling onto the pillows beside yours. “Talk to me my love. You have mentally been flying off elsewhere ever since Ganyu’s arrival.” His hand, draws itself up slowly from your thighs to your waist, where his thumb begins to gently rub at the barely exposed skin of your midriff accessible through the side windows of the satin nightdress you wore. The feeling was nice, and you let out a sigh as you sunk into it, your eyes slipping shut for a moment to savour the quiet intimacy, before they opened again to watch his, as you quietly, so timidly told him where your thoughts had been- what you knew of adeptal children, of the weight they all carry and the ache they all so openly feel when with the young Ganyu.
You bring up your joined hands to sit between your heads and kiss his knuckles as you speak of what you saw of him and- in extension, Guizhong, when watching the rest. When around even the human children of Liyue. That yearning you could not put a name to, that gentleness reserved for only the purest of all life at its budding stage, that love for the Adepti and Yaksha that extended into shared grief whenever they all watch any children run about and simply be.
He is quiet as he listens, as he so oft is, before he slowly tugs you closer, pressing your forehead to his and letting his voice drop to a whisper so gentle you’ve no doubt it would have had you faint a decade prior if he had spoken to you in such a way.
“Have I ever told you how much I adore the way you love us all? The ways in which you care so deeply that you cannot help but notice even the most minor of things?” He lets go of your waist, cupping your face with the hand, brushing his thumb over your lips as he continued. “Guizhong and I never had any children of our own blood. Only ever adopted disciples over time before the war.” He huffs as his eyes seem to go some place faraway- “Guizhong far more than I. I only ever took the four in at her behest. We knew, that it would hurt when each of those disciples passed but…it did not hurt as much as it did watching our friends- our family mourn their young.” He focuses back onto you, pressing a light kiss to your lips before he continues. “Even stone,, felt the shift of the world with each one fallen. Xianyun’s daughters, her son. Mountain Shaper’s son and grandchildren, Bonanus and Indarius, loosing their children who had only just met the world for an hour- gave us all one beautiful smile- before they returned to the heavens.” He sighed, squeezing your hand, yet not wiping the tears that fell for the others at that moment.
“Ganyu, is…the most recent and so far, the only child of adeptal blood to come into this world and survive this long. Survive the tail end of the war. Help, in some ways in showing the human children the ways to safety. In taking up a bow so young to keep those same children- her agemates at the time- safe.” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a fleeting kiss against your wrist. “We all love her dearly and enjoy her presence just as much as she seems to enjoy ours. She is…much to most of our detriments- the best of all of us.” He smiles softly, and finally wipes a tear off your face. “She is the living embodiment of all who came before her. That is why you will see us all so…heavy, and yet happy in her presence. She is a living, breathing miracle, I suppose.”
Your eyes shut as he presses a kiss between them. “Just as you are to me little dove.” Your eyes flutter open at the quiet confession, and for what feels like an eternity, Morax simply stares into your eyes, not even flinching as your hand comes up to cup his face just as his does yours still, and you kiss his palm, a silent thank you, to him for telling you this, for sharing his pain and another aspect of his love for those you both call your family.
His eyes crinkle with a small smile at the gesture, before he slowly shifts you on to your back, his hand squeezing yours just once, before he kisses you softly, achingly as if trying to drown himself in you in that moment. He only pulls back enough to let you breath, kissing your cheek before his cheek presses against yours in affection, and he pulls back just slightly, watching your face a moment, then he speaks again, voice just slightly hoarse-
“Please, my dove.” His hand drops from your cheek to your neck then your chest, feeling your beating heart beneath the satin and skin- “Allow me to love you wholly tonight. Allow me to show you, how much I mean it every single day when I call you mine.” You push yourself up just so, pressing a soft kiss to his adam’s apple before you let yourself sink back into the bed again- quiet confirmation- and he smiles at the vision presented before him.
Your face, part of it alight with the dim glow of the geo lights beside the bed, your smile so tender it would have him fall before the Heavenly Principles all over again and spite them all over again just to see this look on your face. Your eyes, gleaming with tears still but so alive with love for him-
You have carved, forged and reforged your place in his soul. In his very being.
He slowly, comes back down to kiss you as his hand traces down to rest on your thigh once more, and tug it up to his waist where it pulls him down and against your own form as if trying to merge into one through will alone-
You cannot breathe when he is not near. He is your centre of gravity.
Your gasp is muffled against his lips, your nightgown long forgotten elsewhere on the floor now as he moves against you, into you. His own groan sits low in his throat, a sound so guttural, so raw your brain pauses to wonder if it is more dragon than man.
The stars have come alive in his universe again, and at the origin lies you, laughing, smiling, dancing, walking, bickering- each action bringing the dark sky of his mind alight again.
He cannot help the shudder and moan when your nails find purchase against his back as you rock your hips up, his voice a breathy prayer on your lips for patience, your head falling back into the sheets. He finds he is already so addicted to the sound- the feeling of it all.
The suffocating presence of Fate over your very existence is made lighter by the shield he has become over your heart and mind. They cannot grab a hold of you, not if he is with you.
Your name- oh your name is so sweet on his lips as he seems to spasm, the very earth of all Liyue shaking in tandem with it’s deity as he finds himself gone within you, his very purpose unseated to put you at the pinnacle of it all, at the point of origin for all he shall ever do and become.
He is mad with this feeling. This pressure that only eases when he is in your arms, when his heart beats in tandem to yours, when he watches his power obey your every command. The side of him more beast than mind rears it’s head and croons so proudly each time this comes to be. Each time you show yourself to be his over and over and over again-
You are panting, as he pulls you into his arms and against his chest, soft words of praise lost against your head as he rubs your back, waiting, watching for the moment you return to him fully. Your body is a web of nerves alive with the ghost of pleasure so unlike any you had known in the life before this moment, and your heart is swelling with the rightness of it all. Even as you feel the liquid- so viscous- slowly find it’s way out of you and onto the sheets, filling the room with the undeniable scent of it all-
You and him, him and you and-
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Guizhong cannot rest, not truly. All of her feels so hot all of a sudden, and her heart- her soul screams into a void that does not answer for those that it seeks lie so far away, together and yet not truly whole and this one part, this one third of that singularity coils as if shying from burning itself against something-
He was so, so warm. His hand guiding her head to rest on the cushion of thighs trained and harnessed for centuries to be strong and yet now serving the purpose of something soft-
She is so all encompassing, sending lightning alive through all Guizhong’s heart and mind each time their eyes met and smiles were exchanged.
They are so perfect, such harmonious duality but there is still that empty space unoccupied to truly round it all out into that divine trinity so oft found repeated in history- in most records of gods and people and beings-
Guizhong sits up, heaving quietly as she struggles to breath, truly. The sun has begun it’s march across the sky and with it’s light she realizes just one thing.
She is so, so deeply in love with her best friends, it hurts her very soul.
And she could not have them, she would not dare. They have the other, have earned each other, where would she even dare try fit in-
His tail’s end coiled around her foot, even as it sat over your form for the most part. Your hand held hers, fingers playing with her own as the humans talk and talk and-
Her mind is silent, only filled with the sound of two- no, three beating hearts. All as one. One divinity, one singularity, one soul.
The feeling has her nearly drowning in it’s weight.
This is what you went through for a decade loving Morax.
She does not think she can survive even a tenth of that time in this limbo.
“I know we wanted her to stop yearning for so long but this is…” Xianyun only continues to stare at the sight, with the rest of the Adeptus- namely, Guizhong, Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper- watching wide eyed.
“I don’t think excessive covers it. It has barely been three years and-” Mountain Shaper gestures to the pair, who currently, with little regard for the rest of the world beyond their little bubble, sit in a way that to even immortals, would be scandalous had it not been building for so long.
“I’m not even surprised.” Guizhong mutters, watching as Morax’s tail swings to and fro, at times ceasing only to coil around your form as best it can as he works on some contract or the other, and you sleep- sat between his legs on the (cushioned) floor, head on his thigh, with his free hand entangled within your hair.
It is common practice, now for the both of you, but to the rest, it will forever be baffling how Morax now softens so swiftly in your hands- both of which are wrapped around his waist, brushing against the very base of his tail, which has, unfortunately for the wildlife- triggered Morax’s unending purr that has been shaking the mountains for the last hour. The Adepti watch for a few moments, before Guizhong sighs, muttering “One of us aught to wake her. We have business to tend to.” Her eyes flick to the rest, who share looks of slightly frightened contemplation.
“I quite like having my head attached to my neck.” Moon Carver is that to speak first, met by nods from Mountain Shaper, thus leaving-
“You are closer to them than I Guizhong. You do it.” Xianyun the traitor. Guizhong stifles a groan as the trio scatter off, taking a breath before she- as quietly as possible- knocks on the door to the study, meeting Morax’s gaze as it lifts to see who it is that enters the space.
“Guizhong. Is something the matter?” His voice is a gentle rumble, unsurprisingly so, even as you shift just so, the action met with a cease of breathing from the god for a moment, before he relaxes again. Guizhong, watching as so oft she is, only smiles, laughing softly at the sequence.
“No, nothing too major old friend.” She takes her seat across from him, her gaze flicking between your form then back to his face. “We simply have the elders to meet shortly. I was unawares as to both your whereabouts and now…well.” She nods to your sleeping form, and Morax chuckles, his hand slowly loosening itself from your hair and coming to cup your face just slightly. “I have not forgotten, fret not. I will wake her.” Guizhong looses all the (barely) concealed tension within her at the words, and she nods, watching as Morax, so unlike himself leans down just slightly to keep his voice low as he speaks.
“Little dove, the world awaits your rising. There is much to do and as much as I may adore your sleeping form so, it is that which we all must tend to.” His thumb brushes over your cheek slowly as he speaks, eyes watching each miniscule movement of your face as slowly you are pulled from the gold tinted world of your dreams, and into the reality which you call home.
He smiles then, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, letting you slowly rise, his quill dropped in favour of shielding your head from hitting the edge of the desk as you stand and stretch, hands lifted and back arced just so-
His eyes cannot focus elsewhere in that lingering, watching the way your form moves, the small sound of satisfaction at the loosening of your limbs you release, the shifting of the fabrics of your daily wear, the gleam of your hair as it lifts when your hands pass it before falling back against your body, the slow drop of your arms after, bringing them to rest on his shoulder with the other coming to your eyes to rub the tiredness out of them.
Guizhong once more observes for just a second as Morax (rather shamelessly) checks you out as you wake, before, in turn of your gentle inquiry as to her presence (once you notice she is even there to begin with), she responds. “We have the meeting with the people of Liyue, if you recall. It’s in fifteen minutes.” Ah shit, and you aren’t even dressed.
Morax and Guizhong watch as you, with barely much said beyond your call over back to them that you will be getting dressed promptly, near run out of the study to your rooms. The silence lingers for a moment before-
“You were undressing her with your eyes.”
“I request you do not refer to me appreciating my partner so crudely again.” He looks at her, and only sighs at the look on her face. “But you are not incorrect”
“You horny bast-“
He lifts a brow, only inclining his head, pursing his lips a moment before he speaks softly- embarrassed. “Guizhong, please. Spare my pride.”
His only answer is her ever joyous laughter that, of course as most entertainments of the recent weeks have been- comes at his expense.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The meeting of the elders with yourself, Morax and Guizhong was…informative, to some extents. If anything it only served to remind you how much younger you are than your two divine counterparts- hell, and barely older than the elders themselves. Of course this meant you tried- keyword tried- to watch and learn the way Morax and Guizhong handled things but still, in the end, it was like a small duckling staring up at a- well, dragon- in terms of the gap of intellect. And so, rather than just sit around and look stupid, you watched the children nearby, once again. A few of those you had seen years past were now already teenagers- so much taller than you had recalled, so much like their parents as they grew into their adulthood. It was humbling yet at the same time- you felt old.
It was an odd combination of emotions- the daunting realization of the gap of knowledge between yourself, Morax and Guizhong and yet the devastating blow of realization that the people you had seen as infants and toddlers, were now closer to adulthood than they were the age you met them as. Internally, you were proud, so, so proud of how far they had come and yet-
Morax barely even registered his movement of wrapping an arm around you as you curled into his chest, trying to hide from the world for just that bit longer as your emotions, gods damned hormones, really- overwhelmed you. His eyes remained on the speaking human, and yet- they flick down, watching you as you hide your face into his neck, clearly thinking of something that had you in this state. He would ask later of course, it would be against his nature not to know everything he could about you in an attempt to carry the burden with you (just as you made it your mission to carry the burden of damnation in the form of the gnosis with them when still you barely knew them those few years ago)
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Guizhong felt the thrum of the gnosis strengthen once your own heart and Morax’s laid within such close proximity. It became a sensation she began to use as a compass of sorts- if it’s thrum became this much stronger, she would look for you first in Morax’s usual spots rather than your own. And oft find you exactly there, either laying across or atop the god. And some days… Guizhong finds she yearns for a similar comfort. From either of you truly. Her third of the gnosis, unless in meetings such as this one, lies as the loneliest, and she feels it heavily.
She is happy for you both, of course she is and yet-
Morax’s eyes catch hers as her thoughts come to a still. A slight tilt of his head- your habit- before she feels something coil around her waist and her yelp is barely stifled as Morax pulls her into the embrace, watching as she relaxes as her own part of the gnosis comes alive with power, and her head settles on his shoulder.
He is her closest, and longest known friend. Of course he could read her like an open book. Your own form is shifted to make the space necessary to have both of you touching him in some way or other, and your only query is answered with the opening of one eye to see her, and you smile, oh how you smile at her so brightly- before your hand finds hers, as once again you settle into listening to Morax’s heartbeat. Morax who is heading this meeting now without a single flinch as the elder’s faces gradually get more and more confused at the sight.
It was made clear long ago, that the trinity of divine which you all make, was not romantically involved, nor wedded as they had originally thought (not in the human understanding of wedded, anyways), yet now, barely half a decade since then, they see as Morax sits with both goddesses under an arm- one coiled into his form as if she needs it to breath, her hand loosely holding that of the other who still engages in the meeting yes but- relaxes, at the close proximity.
One of the newer elders is about to open their mouth to ask, but the rest, either kick him under the table, or shoot him looks to silence the query. The matters at hand are far too serious for such nonrelevant questions. They will ask another time, perhaps- one of the more casual walks you all still take perhaps, if they can get a hold of one of you before the children get a hold of all of you. (Unlikely, but they can hope).
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Your brain, still (somehow) ran at a hundred miles an hour as you stared at Morax, unable to speak still, yet he sat there, patient as he cooled his tea just slightly before drinking from his cup- your eyes, of course, flicked to his throat to watch him swallow- and at last, you took your own cup to do the same.
“Again, I do not wish to distress you dove. It is simply something that has come to my attention…not exactly as of late, but I digress” his cup met the table with a gentle clink as he lowered it, his eyes remaining locked on your movements. It was a few seconds still, as you tried to avoid meeting his gaze (gods know if you did you would say everything on your mind and we don’t want that now do we?)- your cup lifting to your lips before you pause as he lets out a soft amused chuckle.
“You’re embarrassed by something.” Ah, and the tea goes down the wrong pipe, what a speedy proof of his statement you provided. You put your cup down much less gracefully than he had his, and begin to cough as to try get your lungs working properly again.
You do not see him move. Only feel his hand on your back as the couch beside you sinks, and a firm wack on your back has you taking in a deep breath again. “Apologies, I did not mean to-“ Your head lifts, at last, meeting his (now incredibly concerned) gaze, and all other thoughts within your mind go silent- including any portion of you registering his words.
Ah. So that is it.
Your love for him no longer derives from that silly infatuation with a digital character does it? That does not feel like this. No this is a void you cannot help falling into- willingly, if you’re being honest. There is no part of you that does not seek to meet his in any and all ways possible. You cannot bear to truly be separated, far beyond what the gnosis demands of you both. You feel alive when he is near don’t you. Your mind does not come alight as brightly as it does when it is him you speak with, walk with, spar with.
You love him like a flame does oxygen. You’ve come to need him to simply be in this world. To call it your home without him there is out of question, because he is the epicenter of all your memories here. Morax, so ruthless, so gentle. You’ve fallen for him beyond the space where you could possibly try and claw your way out of these feelings, and you find you do not want to. Not today, not ever again.
His eyes are, your greatest weakness you realize then, as you have frozen again, simply staring into their depths- unable to speak, move, unable to try convey this.
He whispers your name then, the sound of it a blanket of affection that sweeps your soul into the clouds. Would it be so bad? For him to know? “You’ve run your mind off elsewhere, are you alright?” far from it but your concern is greatly appreciated.
You take in a deep breath then, quickly contemplating any and everything you could do- (quit being a Marinette and tell him) before you settle on tentatively reaching for his hand, hooking your fingers around his slowly, your eyes locked on the movement to avoid seeing if his face shifts.
But you do not need to- his hand slowly turns, letting yours rest in his palm as he closes his fingers around it, his voice a quiet murmur “I have a feeling this is telling me something I feel I am too dense to fully comprehend. Your words, please dove.”
Your words. The notion lets a soft laugh bubble out of you, before you sink back on the couch to stare at him, for once, not letting the blatant adoration within them lie dormant- not letting the unwavering love, lie unseen. His eyes find yours again in that moment, and it is a long, long silence before he slowly exhales, brushing a thumb over the back of your hand. A silent plea for you to just say it. Tell him.
You do. You are too far into these depths not to. In whatever words you can, you tell him-
He was one of your greatest joys before you joined his world, and after- well. He sits here unrivalled as the core of what you call home does he not? Your heart aches to see him each day, to hear him speak, see him be happy in this time of peace he has fought so hard for. Your power, developing still, flourishes best under his element for already you aligned yourself so with it’s ideals- unwavering, as stone reaching for the skies, as water rushing through a riverbed- as your love is, trying to reach out to touch his heart, begging that please- just this once Fate, let him feel it too, let his beating heart become one with yours.
His face morphs, between differing reactions as you speak- surprise (men are dense, you are not surprised he did not truly know what it was he asked you to tell him), disbelief right after- his face falls into a gentle gaze after awhile, fingers moving to slowly intertwine with yours as you continue on and on and-
He speaks your name like a symphony reaching it’s climax- with all the quiet beauty built up over time- as he gently tugs you to his side, releasing your hand if only to cup your face “You need to slow down dove. There is no place I have prior engagements in. Again, but breath this time, please.” your shoulder sink as you do exactly that, taking in a breath to calm your unsteady heart.
That quickly begins racing as you realize your proximity once you lift your head to speak once more- his eyes truly are beautiful. No gem compares, not even the gold you are sure he weeps. Your breaths release in tandem to his, as slowly, rather than speak this time (because you are sure he knows exactly what you said and truly only needed secondary confirmation), you bring your lips to his.
For the lord of stone and gold…his lips are quite soft aren’t they? They are akin to the clouds he soars over- sweet in the sensation they draw from you. Cool, and yet not so much so that you wish to flinch away. No, it is the coolness you seek sleeping- a freshly flipped pillow, is the best you can give yourself then- and you wish to laugh at the analogy, but you cannot, not in this second.
Not as his hand cups your face with all the gentleness he has learned in the absence of war. Not as he tugs you close until you are truly atop him, your hands gripping his robes as his settle themselves atop your waist.
Not as you hear your heart screaming in your head- it’s beats so fast you cannot tell one from the next. Not even as you feel his climb to a similar pace beneath your hand as it travels upward, slowly to the back of his neck so that you may loose your hands in the flowing brown (always perfect) art piece one would call his hair. You sink then as his fangs- retracted in this form but still sharper than anything has a right to be in anyone’s mouth- brush over the skin of your lips, the quiet surprise muffled against them, only the tail end truly loud as you pull back, dizzy with the high we call love as you watch his face, nervous.
The world had ceased to spin for you for those few seconds as you waited, before slowly his eyes open- framed by those beautiful lashes that are tipped with a gleam that refracts the light the ways a diamond would, as if stars on a backdrop of- gold?
Is he blushing?
Your brain (and his, very much) takes a moment to realize the true situation- one of your hands in his hair, the other on his chest still and his- oh you should not have focused on that.
It is well known fact, that Morax is…unbelievably huge but here- with his hands spanning from your upper thighs all the way to your ass as his thumbs dig into the very top of the little transitional space between your outer and inner thigh…well, your brain has fallen into sin again as you feel your face heat up, and with a quiet groan your face falls into his shoulder to hide if only for a moment from the embarrassment your forwardness has prompted.
Silently, his eyes follow this, as your words ring through his mind over and over, silenced only in the few seconds your lips were upon his. You loved him beyond simple friendship, that much you had made clear and he wondered still how long that had been true. How unobservant had he truly been?
“Dove?” his voice is gentle, as his touch lifts to your face to make you look at him, so that he may see in your eyes, please let it be no jest. “I feel as if this has been something you wished to address for, quite some time and for that I apologize in my inobservance yet I must ask…how long, has your heart lain within my hands without my knowing of it’s weight?” Celestia curse his eloquence. How long has your heart lain in his hands? You would faint at the words, if still you were the girl he first met. Now? You simply settle for losing yourself in his eyes, before you quietly respond. There is no space for lies between you both any longer, is there? The widening of his eyes once he realized, was highly comical frankly and you could not stop the laugh that bubbled it’s way out of you. A decade of pining, and he cannot respond even with a word as he realizes just how bad his oversight was.
“Oh.” He whispered, watching you laugh, tightening his grip only as you almost slip off him and on to the floor in the midst of your laughing fit. That joy, now so freely expressed, slowly overtakes his shock and he smiles. No sound of this earth is as beautiful as your laugh, is it?
· ─ ·✶· ─ ·
Your morning, is a slow rise in the weeks after the little…confessional session. Guizhong (and the rest, honestly she is just the most obvious of them) had pestered you for days on why you smiled so widely now, begging for you to speak of what had happened, but still they had to pay for setting you up in such a manner knowing Morax would hear as you spoke, so you remained silent.
Not that every other sign didn’t make it obvious.
Each breakfast, Morax (who now freely walked about with his tail loose a sight which triggered your tracking of the damn thing like a cat to a laser) would tug your seat on his left closer, resting the mass over your lap beneath the table, a sight that was…unseen but not truly unnoticed by the rest of the Adepti.
Whenever you both sparred, he was still as serious as he had been for the years before but still was a bit looser in his movements, as if he could not help but relax with you. Well, that and the fact that as the cold season returned, you both more oft than not found yourselves on the ground laughing after slipping on ice- a sight that left the Yaksha bewildered, truly.
Wherever you went- be it on trips with the other women- he knew first, your words and quick farewells received with a smile and a kiss to your forehead to reinforce the sonority you both have not ceased to share- before he releases you to go on whatever trip the rest have decided to take for the day.
And your walks…well, Guizhong remained a common addition to them still, but she could see the ease in which he kept pace, and only watched with a quiet smile as you both went off on your tangents, walking just slightly ahead, his tail some days, tugging you (and thus her with you) back to his side when you wandered a bit too far for his hands to reach before you all settled somewhere within the town to speak to each other and of course, the elders.
That was one of the moments you found yourself in now, sitting before the statue the people of Liyue (renamed so that nobody's name of the triad you three make lie unaccounted for) had made for you all, your head on Morax’s shoulder, legs across Guizhongs as the three of you simply stared at the mass of art. The townsfolk now had grown, far more used to the sight of the three of you, and so-
“I will never understand their fascination” Morax speaks quietly, his head turned just slightly to watch the children roll about, chasing his tail as their giggles fill the air. Guizhong turns her head to observe the sight, and she chuckles as one finally catches the mass, now going left and right as they hold on to it, pulling themselves to lie atop his tail, shrieks of joy filling the air soon after.
“They are children. Little they do makes sense, even to their mortal parents. Perhaps if you ever have your own, we will understand it.” A slight nudge of your heel into her stomach triggers a laugh as Morax’s ears lifted slightly, his eyes turning to you, then down to your stomach and-
“Perhaps we will.” His hand lifts from the ground to coil around your midriff, and your hand finds his when it rest on your thigh, as so often is the case. You had to cover your face with a hand as you quietly groaned. Great, not even a full year with him and Guizhong has already planted the baby bomb.
🔄: (They do not know they are dead, or ngl ı don't know what this is either)
.ᐟ Capitano, Columbina, Arlecchino, Pulcinella, Scaramouche, Sandrone, Pantalone, Childe. Freminet is mentioned in Arle’s part.
tw.ᐟ Uncanny repetation / time loops, cycles, surreal horror, disassociation / identity erosion, ominous implications, subtle religious themes, claustrophobic atmosphere, memory erosion. In Arle’s part has also: subtle grooming & child soldier implications, implied off-screen deaths (including children), implied off-screen loss of limb, trauma
masterlist wc: 2019
⟢ Capitano — The march never ends. For once, war isn’t disguised as anything. This, also, isn’t disguised as anything.
You walk. He follows—never behind, never in front of you—but besides you. He matches your pace with that monk’s precision, with the kind of stillness that comes with vows.
The path is neither winding nor straight. It simply is, stretching long and drowsy beneath the sky. Wildflowers begin as a suggestion, then insist. Purple, yellow, red. They are too bold to be ignored. He stops at one. A little violet one, bent at the neck. You pick it.
“Where would it go?” you ask, every time.
He answers, always: “Helmet.”
You laugh, but it’s not mocking. It’s like air escaping where it’s been held. He doesn’t laugh. He means it.
You say it would look ridiculous.
He nods, agrees, slides it into his belt anyway.
And then, silence again. Not sharp, not cruel. Just wide. The kind that doesn’t ache. The kind that lives. Later, he will point again. Different flower, different color. Later, your legs won’t be tired from the walk.
Later is already yesterday.
The path loops back like time forgot how to move forward. You never see the place you came from. You never reach the place you’re going.
But your breath fogs the same word every time: Stay.
Somewhere, a lark repeats the same four notes, certain it’s inventing them.
Here, Capitano thinks nothing is a kind of peace too.
⟢ Columbina - The walls bend toward last century. There is an angel guiding you, and an angel guiding her. Do not look at the statue.
It starts as a game: who leads whom. Her hand in yours is feather-light, cool and sure, and every corner blooms into another corridor with frescoes that watch through their lashes. She believes you guide her. You believe the same of her. Shared delusion as shared delight. The maze swallows both ideas and gives you back the same hallway with different manners.
You take a left because she hums a note that sounds like left; she takes a right because you squeeze once, and once means right.
You think you glimpse the same statue you saw at the entrance of this hallway on your way out, but its mouth is a fraction wider, as if learning a new vowel: I. You do not remember coming this way. The sky pretends not to look.
You walk in circles.
⟢ Arlecchino — Red lipstick; red plate; red language folded into napkins you’re not supposed to touch. Red velvet chairbacks. Red pulse on her neck.
She eats with the reverence of a believer performing—small bites, precise cuts—by the fire whose logs never shorten. Each motion is ritual, each chew confession. Her lipstick doesn’t smudge. Her eyes never leave you. She chews like she’s listening.
Her fork taps the table, a sound like a countdown: come home, come home, come home.
You glance at the wall.
You do not notice, not fully, that the children who do not come begin to change. Their portraits are everywhere—woven between candle sconces and between the high-arched alcoves of the wall. Their frames vary—some with rust, some new with polish—but each houses one within the gold frames. Their painted eyes glaze thinner each time you glance—defeated first by hours, then by years, then by decades.
You recognize none of them.
They grow in that way children do when you aren’t looking: a collar that stretches too tight on the neck, a new shadow under the eyes, quiet resignation in the corners of their mouths. One slouches now. Another sits upright but glass-eyed. One portrait you once looked and saw a bright-face, now has the eyes looking off to the left, dazed.
Some disappear. A portrait of a boy, marching his first steps into adulthood while the color grey—unflinching—was sneaking its own way down his temple, disappeared when you were mid-bite. Between the space where the old one used to exist and your memory, a new one appeared without a need to announce itself. A portrait of a girl. Wide-eyed, mouth open like she’s still learning how to breathe—gone, fast, too fast, faster than others. Before the varnish even got to dry.
This time, three new portraits appear at once when you’re mid-sip. Triplets. They have wider shoulders. Better posture. They should last longer—wait, longer than who?
“Children grow so quickly,” Arlecchino sighs.
You nod. You think of the one in the fourth frame, who used to have both arms. Before the aftertaste of red wine takes that, too.
You ask: “Do they write?”
The candlelight catches on the edge of the letter she turns toward you—unopened, sealed in wax. A faint ocean smell—not salt, just wet wood and rust—made itself comfortable in the ink.
Au Père, it reads.
De Freminet.
“Sometimes.” She swirls her glass. “This arrived this morning.”
“Make sure to write soon.” You smile.
“Of course.” She says, smooth. “I have every intention. After dinner.” The plate before her refills itself in silence. Another cut of meat. Another glint of red, bleeding like a slit throat. Another napkin folded in half.
Somewhere beyond the windowless dining room, life rushes forward like a river with no name.
The children fight wars. The children lose teeth. The children find new gods. The children became martyrs and traitors. The children find graves.
The children never come in.
Freminet’s portrait has long since disappeared.
The dinner goes on forever.
⟢ Pulcinella — You light his pipe for him. Every time, he pretends to be surprised.
“Another?” He offers you a riddle. You get it wrong. He laughs, benevolent like a blade with perfect table manners. Another riddle, this one with a trapdoor you can see and somehow still fall through. Wrong again. He claps you on the shoulder with a hand that weighs more the longer it rests there.
This one’s crueler. You answer it wrong again.
The couch creaks when he shifts. The chairs are mismatched on purpose—a lesson, probably. The lesson is that you will never pick the right one.
“You’re getting smarter,” he says. You aren’t.
Under a table, a tall shape under cloth hums. You look at it in that way that is the same thing as touching. He says, “Don’t.” You don’t. He smiles.
“Another?” He offers you a riddle.
You answer. You answer wrong.
⟢ Scaramouche… at least he used to be — He calls you over, hands sticky from fruit. “Look,” he says, pointing at the horizon through the window. There’s no horizon. “It’s beautiful,” he breathes. “Don’t you think?”
There is citrus in the air.
Soft and cutting—sharp as the edge of morning. It lives in the folds of the linen sheets, the bath towel slung over the door, and makes a space for itself on the hollow of his throat. It curls under and clings to his hair, strand by strand, like a morning prayer. The scent is sweet, someone must’ve peeled the sun open and pinched sugar over it.
Your palm makes small circles near his temple. Clockwise. Always clockwise. He catalogues them quietly: a scholar of birthright, a cartographer of touch. “I had a bad dream,” he says, voice featherlight. “I felt—no. I was—um... I don’t really know.”
“Sad?” You offer, voice serene and half swallowed by the light.
“Mm?” He tilts his head. It bumps your chin. “What’s that?”
You say nothing.
His brows furrow. He blinks slowly, too slowly. “Oh,” he murmurs. “One second... Have we always lived here?”
“I feel like I used to be… someone else. Something else.” His fingers flex and relax as if they are testing the air. “But it feels far away.”
“Do you understand?” he asks.
You hum. It trails off into the golden blur of the room. “Not really.”
His smile blooms with the sincerity of something freshly made. “Doesn't matter. I’m happy. Really, really happy.” He lays his head on your chest again. “Stay with me a little longer,” he breathes.
The clock on the wall is shy a minute, forever.
The light pools in the same corner of the rug like it’s kneeling, it’s always kneeling.
He does not notice. The light, the clock’s hands... They look, simply, very pretty where they stand.
Maybe, he thinks, just a minute longer. The same minute. The one that always, always loves him back.
⟢ Sandrone — Bolts of fabric tower like obedient soldiers and you are locked in an argument about curtains.
“Red,” Sandrone decides, verdict wearing faded lipstick. The half of it is on the half-eaten brioche on the desk. “Velvet.”
“It will swallow the room,” you counter. “And the trim doesn’t match.”
Without glancing up: “Then change the trim.”
“That requires—”
“Do it.”
Her automaton sighs (yes, sighs) and sets the same bolt of cloth down a fourth time. You hold a swatch up to the light. It answers, obedient.
One of you asks who requested curtains in the first place. No one answers. A measuring tape snakes around your wrist; she pretends it’s coincidence when it fits perfectly. Each time, her gaze travels your face step by step: forehead, eyes, cheek, lips—you can feel the measuring tape licking your cheekbone, sliding under the jaw. The curtains, you try to gather your mind—doesn’t work, you swear she’s trying to sew you into them.
“Red,” says Sandrone, soft, like a vow. “Velvet.”
⟢ Pantalone — A contract. Signed in gold. The paper is the same word written over and over: foreverforeverforeverforeverforever...
He smiles when you enter. He slides the contract across the table, wearing that polished smile—the one that always feels half a funeral. The ink is still wet, the terms are still binding.
You lean over the paper, “…wow.” As if praising the sea for having water, unimpressed.
He hums.
He offers you a pen. The pen is warm. It bleeds like a thumbprint.
He signs after you with a brightness that passes for happiness in more accepting rooms.
He smiles when you enter. He slides the contract across the table, wearing that polished smile—the one that always feels half a funeral. The ink is still wet, the terms are still binding.
You lean over the paper, “...wow.” As if praising the sea for having water, unimpressed.
He hums.
He offers you a pen. The pen is warm. It bleeds like a thumbprint.
He signs after you with a brightness that passes for happiness in more accepting rooms.
He smiles when you enter…
⟢ Childe — “One more round, yeah?”
Arena scuffed with old prayers. Salt wind flirting with blood. He grins like a wolf fed too well: too much meat, not enough table manners. He laughs with blood on his teeth and you think: it suits him. You stay because he asks for one last duel and it never ends.
Steel meets steel. The sound tastes of iron and childhood: scraped knees, fourteen candles and sour candy under your tongue. He laughs into the strike, joy glittering in every blow, promise behind each parry like a photograph tucked in a soldier’s boot. He says, “One more round, yeah?”
You nod.
You’ve been nodding for years.
When it’s over—which is never—he offers you water. You drink. The water has the exact temperature of relief. He looks younger like this. Blood makes a straight line down his temple as you think about the other things that suit him: the color red, questions with wagging tails at the end and…
“One more round, yeah?” he asks, a prayer disguised as sport. You nod because your hand already has said yes.
It has been, about half a year, since the whole…snowfight debacle as you called it. Thoughts of that brief moment where you tried and, failed to tell Morax of where you stood regarding him emotionally still plagued your every waking moment, and unfortunately- the rest of the ladies know of it.
Which is why you’re all sat in Streetward Rambler’s abode, as you braid Guizhong’s hair whilst simultaneously-
“I’m just saying, it’s been a decade and you’ve only been getting more obvious with time, why try restrain yourself now? He’s 3000 years old I think he can handle the emotional weight of knowing you’re in-” Indarius’ minor rant is interrupted by a pillow to the head, delivered by of course- Xianyun.
“He might be able to handle the weight but we all know he is nothing if not emotionally dense. It might be getting better but come on, if he somehow hasn’t noticed yet, considering how she goes all gooey eyes at him whenever he calls her by that damned nickname- quit giggling Guizhong- it is an actual miracle he is still oblivious.” She huffed, leaning back again, letting the still (now quietly) giggling Guizhong finish her braids, whilst you put in the final clip on her own flowing hair.
“Let’s be a bit nicer, I wouldn’t call it gooey eyes.” Guizhongs comment, receives at least four different glances over of quiet challenge, before she breaks into another fit of giggles, only subsiding when you smack her head with a pillow too, promptly hiding your face in the cushion. This reaction- much to your further embarrassment, receives a room wide bout of chuckles from the other ladies.
“I suppose mental fracture is more accurate a term to use. She does go nonverbal for a bit as if trying to analyse any and all possible meanings of the tone he uses and such.” Bonanus is lying on the bed, her braid already done up, blue eyes flicking about to everyone every few seconds. “I’m just impressed he has yet to tease her on it. He has been…becoming much softer as of late no?”
“You’re telling me. He was smiling at the human children yesterday. Let them use his arms like some sort of play tool as he spoke to the elders. It is off putting.” Xianyun was only muttering, but you all heard her, and eventually you lifted your head off the pillow to join in the, near eerily synchronized huff of amusement given by all of you at the comment.
Morax? Allowing children to essentially use him as a jungle gym? If this were five years ago- hell, even two months ago, you would not believe it and yet-
“It is, always a pleasure to see young, human or otherwise simply enjoy life. A rare sight, for the last fifty years of the Archon war truly.” Morax spoke softly, as you were both seated on, what you can only call a floating platform of geo, watching the valley below where the growing town of Guili now sits. You let out a small huff of agreement, watching as the children giggled and ran around amuck, the two adults designated to watch them, tirelessly chasing after the whole lot. Both of you, let out a short laugh at the sight of one said caretakers tripping and falling into the nearby (shallow) lake, the sound joined by the shrieking laughs of the children as they take it as a cue to run in themselves.
It has, been a week, since the attempted discussion Morax had brought up, and this now was one of few moments of respite amongst your walks together. Your head, slightly, turns to watch him now as he listens to the sounds of the purest joy possible below- children screaming, water splashing and the purest of laughs ringing across the valley- a slight smile on his lips, hair- untied THANK YOU GODS- flowing in the wind, leaving his face relatively…unobstructed. You bring up a hand, to lean your head on to, basking in the silence underneath the midday sun, simply…taking in every trace of him.
You may have chosen not to try and pursue him, but that does not mean you cannot appreciate the view, does it?
His eyes turning to yours- soft, at ease and gleaming with a gentle love for the people below- snap you out of your little hole of thoughts.
“What do you think, of children dove? Ever sought any of your own in…your previous life, I suppose. Ever had any, I believe would be a more in line question. You seem to know a great deal, about childcare. That much I have observed.” The question is…unexpected, to say the least. You’re half tempted to answer- children were just not in the books in the world you lived in, truly, the way the world was built ensured that- but the gleam of his eyes, that little head tilt that you swear he didn’t adopt from your own habits…it made you falter. So instead, you smiled, only leaning forward slightly teasingly, shooting back with a question of your own- does he ask this because he seeks some himself and wished to find out if you were like minded?
The deflection works as intended, his head turning away with a small amused huff and- is that the tips of his ears going red?
Your name being called- and about four hands snapping in your face, drag you back to the present, wiping the slightly dazed smile off your face.
Guizhong- used to such episodes, only laughs “Reminiscing again my friend? What, something about our dear lord of Geo all over again got you all fuzzy inside?” she, unfortunately, dodges the pillow you throw at her, laughing with the rest at the very clear sight of your flustered embarrassment. Streetward Rambler- after catching her breath of course, only shakes her head. “And you still seek not to tell him when you act like this? It’ll be a miracle if this century passes with no change between the both of you.”
“You’d be very correct, if he weren’t as dense as the stone he holds dominion over. If anything, it’ll just be pining ad infinitum for her.” Bonanus lets out a soft huff of laughter, the rest all following suit at the very idea-
Men are nothing if not dense. God or not.
That, was so dependable a fact, that you placed the idea of the very notion of never telling him how you felt, on his inobservant nature when it comes to more trivial, humane issues.
─ ·✶· ─
Or so you had thought. (Fates laughter, once again rings loud in your head)
Morax- dressed far more casually than you had been growing used to in the last months- now stood behind his desk, his eyes locked on your own. “I do hope you were not thinking I’d be remaining unawares, dove. Everything is made of stone in this place, and as much as I may have been trying to respect your privacy, it is quite difficult to not be aware of words spoken within my own domain- especially in regards to myself. And that is without mention of how often Moon Carver seems to be hinting at something on your behalf.” Your brain freezes, in that moment as he simply steps around his desk, taking slow- (cautious) steps towards you. “I believe this would be a good time to continue our conversation from months past, do you not?”
He knows. There is no plausible way he does not- not with the way he is watching you as if expected you to bolt like a rabbit released from a trap-
Shit.
You suddenly feel as if you wished to be swallowed whole by the very roots of Irminsul running across the lands. Fuck everything else your heart is not built for this, let alone with him this close to you, waiting and-
Your name is a gentle prayer spoken with only utter reverence, in that moment. You blink, as if to try stop the rushing waters ringing in your ears, to slow your racing heart, to-
“You need not tell me everything now, if you wish. I simply wished to understand where I stood with you.” His hand lifts then, and the long inhale you had been trying to take (a futile effort, his eyes on yours rendered your heart null to function, let alone your lungs) catches on its way down your throat.
He watches, in those seconds as you seem to go through every stage of contemplation (and flustered embarrassment, frankly), before slowly, he brings his hand up higher, fixing a strand of hair behind a clip Indarius had placed earlier that had slid out of place in the last four hours.
“I do hope that is alright with you, dove. I do so dislike operating with those closest to me under a haze of simple assumptions. Sit, I’ll bring some tea.” Your legs move before your mind registers the full implication of his words- of his offer, to you.
“This, I feel, will be a long conversation overdue, won’t it?” he steps out then, and your mind seems to reboot all over again.
What an example you must make, of fate’s joys in quiet mocking.
Of course he can eavesdrop through the walls, you’re fucked, aren’t you?
There goes the plan not to ever say a word to him of what it is you feel- but what is it truly, that you feel? The affections you held for Genshin Impact’s Zhongli? Or is this an entirely new ballpark developed over the last decade at his side?
How does one tell another that they are so infuriatingly enraptured by their very presence, that they could not draw away even when their existence within their vicinity was but a daydream? How does a girl, as young as you still no matter what it is you have gone through in recent times, tell a boy- a man that she yearns for his every affections? To be held, by him, soothed by him, bicker with him, protect their found family side by side whilst sharing looks of a love so unyielding not even the Heavens and their divine nails could separate it? How-
“I’ve come to understand your expressions, a little better in the last decade. You’re overthinking something, please try not to. I simply wish to talk, not bring you distress.” He places the kettle down on the table- onto a heated pad of geo to keep the tea warm. “Osmanthus or oolong?” your eyes remain on the kettle as he takes his own seat across from you, before you give your response and he takes the liberty to pour it out for you- an assassins teapot, of course he would brew two types at once.
“Where, I wonder, shall we begin?”
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The towering pillars at both ends of the pathway up to the main palace were…imposing. Of course, you made it a point to stick close to both Guizhong and Morax, but you could not help to look. (Login screen wasn’t quite so accurate to the real thing, was it?) A slight bump of Guizhong’s shoulder against yours, returns your attention to her, and without a word- even with all the deities in Celestia watching- you both step back, allowing Morax to shift back into his humanoid form- his divine form- horns arcing back, adorned with gems that hold more blood in their history than any other would dare try rival (save the primordial one themselves, frankly). The sight of it- the significance only serves to draw more attention to your little trio, yet still, somehow your efforts to seem unphased, work.
It is almost eerie, to an observer, how seamlessly the three of you move. Morax takes barely a half step forward, and both you and Guizhong fall to his sides- not his flanks- but beside him, as if extensions of one entity, which, to those who could sense divinity, you appeared to be.
It was calming, seeing how many gods had to double, or triple take the fact that there were three beings approaching the chamber of thrones, rather than one. The energy emitted was simply that…uniform.
Of course, this would be from your own, now conscious influence- Syno Deus- as you called it. Only fitting, for the effort it would have taken without the bond now coiled around you all like a snake to it’s newly killed feast.
Your line of thought, however, is broken once you all stop as one- looking upon the throne highest- and central to the chamber.
Phanes, is unlike anything you could have comprehended as a human before. Their form is both…humane and not. An effort is clearly being made to appear like the beings they shaped and love more than themselves yet still, it is just barely off. Each bit of freckle- or what appears to be a freckle rather- upon their skin, shifts and blinks, eyes born and dying every second. Their head, is another matter altogether, with wings coiled as if to shield the very place where a human’s eyes would be- and another set beyond that stood tall as if a crown marking them as the greatest authority present. It is an aweing feeling, being here you realize. No feature truly defined but those few. Of course, what else is there to expect from the God of gods?
The thought, is nearly lost, until one wing shifts, opening their gaze to you, and you feel your mind rushed with information beyond your own comprehension- you stand, of course you still do, but that eye contact…is not lost the entire meeting. Not when the contract is drawn up with the terms tweaked just slightly in your favor, not when the entire…three headed divinity matter is discussed, not when the Gnosis, is handed over.
It is near maddening, how much you learn in those moments- how much Phanes, was trying to pry out of your mind the entire time, as if taking a scythe to cleave into the sunny skies of your inner world and peer in like a curious cat seeking a toy to rattle-
─ ·✶· ─
“What do you mean you don’t recall the negotiations?” Indarius speaks-
You are back home, you realize, seated by the waters at the centre of the adeptal abode, with all the rest seated around the three of you. Your body still thrums with the faint warmth of the Gnosis’ split authority.
“She seemed to be...near entirely out of it the whole time, gazing at the heavenly principles. I would find it amusing were it not so worrying.” Guizhong’s voice is soft at your side, and your mind- or rather, your consciousness- nearly evacuates your body at the agreeing hum Morax let loose.
“From what I could gather, it seems they were gazing upon her as well. But, in the end, it all went according to plan. We are all bound to only, one order from Celestia, to follow, then we are free to choose which we take and execute. An alliance-“
“Of sorts.” Morax speaks, and Phanes, still watching the smaller, barely fully formed god beside him, only hums, a slight flutter of the energy forming their diadem the only symbol of their acknowledgment. It is a few seconds more, before the speaker- THEIR speaker, responds.
“You propose this as a gesture of goodwill?” Guizhong glances to Morax, both of whom look to your for a second, and just barely, somehow, you nod- a quiet proceed.
“Yes, is that suited to your terms?” Morax turns his gaze back to the speaker then, his tail silently coiling around you to pull you just that inch closer to them both again. Silence, reigns for but a moment, before Phanes themselves nods.
“I see no issue with these conditions. Allow me to entertain your boldness. It is quite new, and for that, this much, you three will be granted.”
“You’re kidding” Alatus mutters, and you look down to hide the small smile at the near…teenage tone, he takes. Cloud Retainer, meanwhile holds no such reservations as to whisper, considering a few moments later, her laughter rings through the abode.
“I’ve no idea what I expected, but that was low on the list. At the very least, it worked out yes?” Moon Carver speaks, and Guizhong lets out her own small snort of amusement. “A ‘reward for our boldness’ they said. I’ve no idea whether to take that kindly, or be greatly concerned that we are under their close watch.”
You feel yourself stifle a snort of your own at that news, before you simply flop back onto the now regenerating grass, letting out a sigh of relief as you shut your eyes.
In the meantime, unbeknownst to you, Morax watches, his eyes gleaming with amusement unrivalled by any he has felt before- and fondness, of a sorts at your reaction. “Well. At least one of us, is ready to…well, I cannot exactly say forget about it if you remembered none now can I?” his tail whips away to dodge the grab and tug you attempt at the jest, an eye cracking open to shoot him a withering look that softens, and eventually dissipates when you roll over to avoid the beaming smile on his face at the entire interaction.
Guizhong, ever the observer, lets out her own ringing bells of laughter then, Morax, only ever shaking his head. “I’ve no clue what I’ve ever done to her she’s been reacting like this for the last three months now.”
This- unknowing and oblivious as all men are- prompts all women (and Bosacious, frankly) to share looks, before they all join Guizhong in laughter, calming the atmosphere just that much more after such a tense discussion following your return from Celestia.
─ ·✶· ─
Peacetime is an odd feeling, for all of you you have realized. A few years now have passed and in them, first and foremost, you were given the location of the people of the Guili plains, and visited them, quite often- but second, the Adepti at all levels, had settled into a much…calmer, routine. Such as now, with it being mid-winter, the very peaks of Juyeun Karst had become covered in snow, and thus-
“Stop MOVING” Guizhong speaks through her teeth as she takes aim again, a snowball in hand. On the opposing end of the small…warzone, you’d say, stood Bonanus, laughing as she continued to simply…dance around each snowball Guizhong sent her way, using her abilities over hydro to, in some form, accelerate her own arsenal to send back towards the goddess of dust.
This was a scene you observed, from one of the newer benches on the peak- formed by Morax at your request (after months of deliberation, mind you) so that you may lie back and simply…watch, as everyone lived their lives.
The weight of the Gnosis- of the contract still lied heavy within you, but you were adjusting. Of course, your Sonority still needed activation for practice, even with the authority of Geo partially nuzzled in your chest as if your very core, so Morax (and in cases of his absence, Bosacious), had made it habit to simply brush by you before performing simple tasks with their elemental abilities.
Cloud Retainer, now far more comfortable, took the times after, to continue her attempts at researching how this ability works. Some discoveries had been made (such as the limit on time between resonance before the elemental ability runs out- 4 hours, if you sought to know, if the energy is not expended too much)- but most still remained unknown, especially where this power had come from. Not that many of you cared, any longer. It served to bring them the period they were in now- and for the few gods who still ran around what now was your nation, served to bring their end.
Not that Morax let you go on these trips alone, but it is a fair sacrifice to make, having him hover as you both remotely...erase the problem. If only so the Yaksha may live to see the next millennium as five rather than one then- ah. A ball to the face.
“Seems even you are not immune to becoming casualty to this little…contest” once again, Morax appearing out of nowhere to speak to you. One would think the bindings making you both (with Guizhong) one entity in some sense would let you sense him easier but no.
His hand, lifts to brush the residue off your nose, and he lets out what seems a little huff of amusement at the look of utter annoyance on your face when you unfreeze from the fight or flight that kicked in when he spoke. The look, only seems to grow greater at your half-assed chiding of his name. “I apologize if I scared you dove. I had been seeking you for conversation, Streetward Rambler pointed me this way. Would you mind a walk?” his eyes gleam then, with a quiet calmness that has become commonplace in the much happier air surrounding the home you all reside in. You reign in a sigh, but stand, only barely managing to dodge the next rouge snowball sent your way- leaving Morax to take it to the face.
His hand- that had lifted in offer to take yours in order to act as guide, hesitates for a second, before it lifts to brush off the residue. Both Guizhong and Bonanus, stood silent when he looked to them, before he let out a weary sigh, waving a hand to let them resume, and turning once again, to you.
“They are like excitable children those two. Every time this season rolls about. The only thing that had them in higher spirits was the people dubbing you Deus Concordia.” His hand returns to it’s earlier position- one of quiet question, and now, even as your heart drums in your head when you respond to his words with our own observations of the duo (now back to playing, with little care for who gets caught within the fight-), you take it. It would simply be rude not to.
His fingers, oh so gently for something carved of what looks to be the darkest gem you’ve known, curl around your own, as he turns, beginning his way up to a higher point on the peaks.
The stroll is, as has become your afternoons- filled with idle chatter- developments of the village, the wildlife now returning to the lands- the rumbles, of what you know to be Azdaha still unborn, beneath the earth- until at last, you get to the peaks.
“Guizhong has…in the years since you arrived, been drawing my attention to something. I figured it best to speak to you directly of it.”
His eyes, when they turn upon you, reflect the look on your face-
That of a bird caught taking seeds meant for smaller animals- red handed.
Fate have mercy, don’t tell me she-
“Is there something you would like to share, with me? I seem to have missed many an instance where you, to the rest at least, seemed to wish to converse, or ask a query. I have time now, for us to sit and do so, if you so wish.” His miniscule head tilt should not be so cute with those horns on his head, but it is. You can feel your breath cease for a second, your heart stuttering with a choked panicked scream as every alarm in your head goes off- there is no possible way he knows of your little crush right.
Right?
Of course, it is stupid to be hiding such, you are bound to him and Guizhong through a contract so akin to marriage calling yourself his wife would not be wrong and yet-
If it were marriage the act would have been consummated, and the mess of your emotions for the god before you, would be far more organized. This, is simply partnership, isn't it?
His gentle call of your name breaks you out of the silent spiral, and you feel your world narrow to just him as he smiles, hair highlighted by the setting sun- golden, in the purest of ways, his eyes a flowing river of now gentle happiness as the sounds of the laughter of all the Adepti and Yaksha (undoubtedly dragged into the snow battle below) reach both your ears.
Your mouth opens, only managing to release a choked squeak before you shut it again, looking away to try hide, as you feel your face heat up- blush visible or no in the light. The low rumble of Morax’s amusement, inclines you to turn your head just slightly to face him.
Big mistake, he has now leaned down to face you much more directly, his eyes glimmering. “You are suddenly much shyer than usual. Do I make you nervous? I would hope not, it has been nearly a decade since the contract was signed. I doubt you would have gone through with such manner of unbreakable bond if I made you feel, anxious, in any way no?” he brings up another hand, simply brushing off a missed speck of snow atop your head.
You’re growing dizzy, and will die here-die happy, but you will die here. He is so close you can see the slight hue in his irises, and even as you try speak you cannot think beyond-
Splat.
A, much larger than should be possible, ball of snow tumbles into both your torsos, and the near synchronized snap of your heads to the giggling gaggle of adepti below, serves as the (much needed) break in that line of thought you indulged yourself in for but a moment.
“Ah. So you all wish to drag us into this too. Fine. Then perish.” He glances back to you, and only nods, barely- you’re on his team now, for this little competition- before he reaches down for snow of his own, and you follow suit, launching it from above, to- even if remotely- join in on the fray.
Yes, peacetime is an odd feeling, but this…you can grow used to. Even if you refuse to even look at the growing mountain that is your feelings for this man beside you.
His laughter- unburdened- rings true as a hit to his face from Alatus (who somehow snuck up on you both) sends him tumbling down the slide of snow you both had just ascended from, and that sound, brings you a great joy unlike any other.
Yes, this is quite alright. No need to burden him with your childish emotions, he carries enough as is. It is alright, just being at his side.
