Artemis

He/They/Zi * Abrosexual * Taken * 18+

[windstrikenbard]

I'm finding myself purposefully commented on hostile posts. Posts that want to erase my existence and paint me as an enemy for my identity.

I find myself purposefully engaging, knowing it's harming me.

Because when someone responds... that minute of attention they've deemed fit to give me to ridicule me... at least it's attention. At least someone chose, in that moment, I was the most important thing.

I forgot what it's like to be important. If I even knew.... Honestly, I don't even know

[windstrikenbard]

really, I messed things up back in June. When I got attached

[windstrikenbard]

"you can't let a hiccup destroy your progress though!" It felt so easy until you were the hiccup

[windstrikenbard]

is my head still a good place to be?

[windstrikenbard]

When I say "it's no worries, I already forgot," it means I genuinely forgot so it wasn't that bad. What YOU say "it's no worries, I already forgot," you mean that you're holding a grudge and will hate me forever for it.

[windstrikenbard]

Hi guys :')

I *really* want to be writing more for y'all, but I'm in a bit of a bind haha. I really gotta start making money, so I'm having to put my writing on the side burner so I can get a job :') Along with that, I just don't have any good prompts or motivation to finish WIPs lately. No one's gonna see them anyways, right? Anyways maybe I'll be able to get more good stuff out soon, but we'll see. Adulting sucks >:(

[windstrikenbard]

Made some onigiri for the first time today... I think overall I did pretty good, it took me awhile to make it but it turned out decently. Gonna just throw the things I gotta improve on here (Because acknowledging what you could do better does not mean you're saying your masterpiece is horrible - you NEED to acknowledge what you did wrong so you can get better :3) * Nori strips too long/wrapped on funny * Weirdly shaped - decently triangular, use techniques listed in the recipe more next time * Pour a bit more water in next time - I got a bit of burnt fellas in there * Remember to put parchment paper down on the plate BEFORE I set the shaped onigiri on it

Maybe in a few more tries I'll feel confident enough to put fillings inside :3

[forthefuns]

follow forthefuns for more funny stuff

[invenblocker]

Your honor! Please direct your attention towards the manga.

As you can see there are small pieces of paper sticking out of every volume.

But no such paper is sticking out of the Batman comic.

The reason? The Batman book doesn’t belong to the library. The photographer put it there to take a picture.

[minipupball]

Once again making hasty assumptions, Wright?

First of all, I’d like to direct the court’s attention to this particular spot, in the top right-hand corner.

Notice how the words are blocking the top of the Batman book.

With this in mind, how can you claim that there is “no such paper sticking out of the Batman comic”?!

[invenblocker]

Say whaaaat?

Well uhm

Look at the size of the paper pieces, they’re all sticking pretty far out.

If there was paper in the batman comic, it would be big enough to stick up over the text.

And while gravity does exist, it probably won’t make the paper do a 90 degree turn and just lean horisontally left at the middle.

[minipupball]

Still grasping for straws, Wright?

Hypothetically, if there were a paper there, this picture would not be able to prove its presence. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing a diagram to illustrate my point. We are faced with three possibilities. It is possible that (1) the paper was simply tucked in deeper than the others.

Paper is a soft material, Wright. It’s not unreasonable for it to do a (2) 90 degree turn. 

Or perhaps, (3) a paper does not exist there at all. 

Either way, you cannot prove your client innocent without sufficient evidence.  

Which, of course, is impossible thanks to the obtrusive words.

[invenblocker]

I’m sorry Edgeworth.

I concede that I can’t disprove theory 1

But the image you submited for theory 2 is contradictory.

Look at the tilt of the other papers. They clearly prove how much the paper would tilt.

And theory 3 is my point! Why would the library’s book not have this piece of paper when the other library books do?

While you still have thory 1, there is another contradiction.

The books are not in alphabetical order, this proves that the batman comic was placed there specifically for the picture!

[minipupball]

Ack.

(Perhaps I should’ve left the artistry to the forensic artist…)

Now hold it right there! It doesn’t matter which direction the paper is going because it’s impossible to prove it even exists!

Those theories are all the same! We do not have enough information to prove them. There could be an infinite amount of papers in there for all we know. I simply presented them only so that the court could better understand your baseless conjecture!

… I suppose the order of the books do seem out of the ordinary. However, therein lies not just one possibility. Clearly, those are Japanese graphic novels, also known as “manga”. And the Batman comic book is a graphic novel, too, no?

Seeing as it currently has only graphic novels in the shelf, it is possible that any other novels have simply not yet been restocked. Asserting whether or not this effect was deliberate is useless– there is no way of knowing if the photographer and the captioner are the same person, let alone their involvement in this picture.

Face it Wright, you can’t prove any of these groundless accusations!

[randomthingieshere]

Did everyone just ignore the library sticker?

[dracophile]

[sp00kybitme]

D E AD

[ultimate-reserve-hope]

I will reblog this any time i see it on my dash

[slime-lilly-deactivated20220926]

Absolutely fucking D E S T R O Y E D

[zaunites-finest]

This is the strongest Tumblr post I’ve ever witnessed.

[fishhater-ieatthem]

This was recommended and as a super logical person I can see why

[makishimuu]

I’ve been looking for this for ages!!

[legendary-posts-collection]

Apparently legendary.

[mx-yip-yip-hooary]

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

[shirpowbra]

iconic

[petitprincess1]

Always reblog

[shirooochu]

GET REKT

[i-give-chess-pieces-to-people]

[ID: a pair of outstretched hands, offering a chess piece. End ID]

[the-haiku-bot]

[ID: a pair of

outstretched hands, offering a

chess piece. End ID]

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[ranmagender]

PSA for Switch owners

The latest 11.0 update means that Google Analytics is a thing on the switch and turned on. What that means is that Nintendo has a deal with Google to share with them your data for advertisement purposes.

To turn it off

go to the eShop

go to your profile where your funds and account info is

go down to the bottom of the page

there you will see “Google Analytics Preferences”

select the Change

select “Don’t Share”

Please spread the word. Really shitty of Nintendo to just quietly start allowing Google to spy on users for advertising.

[bebx]

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

[windstrikenbard]

My favorite fan fiction is 270+ pages, has only a few minor mistakes, the storyline is consistant, the POV is consistant, characters have consistent personalities, nothing is forgotten, nothing is added randomly without cause.

Meanwhile I've read published books that are filled with spelling errors, grammer errors (such as the the) some cases it's switched from third person to first person randomly outside of thought, etc etc.

10/10 will buy that fanfiction hardcopy. Too bad it's only on AO3 :( But that's okay it's downloaded to my phone for when I'm travelling and need a pickmeup.

[windstrikenbard]

Gods above I forgot how dreamy The Gentleman is.........

[phantomrose96]

Cant have fucking shit in Detroit

[phantomrose96]

[phantomrose96]

Cant have shit

[phantomrose96]

Okay so door saga

The only way into my building is through the front door which locks itself when closed. There's a back entrance but it's deadbolted from the inside. This means the only people who can get into the building are me, my cat sitter with the spare keys, and the people living in the other two units.

The door to MY unit now... has no doorknob. Impossible to get in.

There is a shared BACK hallway that leads to the shared basement/back entrance. My back door into this hall is always deadbolted. EXCEPT, fortuitously, right now, since neighbor (Molly) in unit 2 had heard Patches meowing when alone and offered to spend some time with her, so I had the cat sitter unlock the bolt.

This, LUCKILY, means there is A Way into my unit. But it requires getting into the building, then going THROUGH my neighbors' unit into the back hall, then up to my unit.

Cat sitter is effectively locked out from Patches, and won't be able to get in if not fixed by the next day.

Text neighbor about predicament. They're willing to look at my door bUT (it's Christmas) they're not home and not getting home until the next day.

Next day, text for an update but hear nothing. (Neighbors aren't attached to their phones much). Communicate with catsitter saying "okay if I don't hear back from neighbors, maybe you go over and I contact a locksmith who you can let in?" (since cat sitter has the keys to the building)

Catsitter is very not keen on the idea

Patches is unaware she's a prisoner.

Hear back from neighbors. Say they should be home around 5pm.

Okay... Good Enough... (Patches graze-feeds so Luckily she hasn't missed any meals but we're going on 24 hours of house arrest Patches).

6pm comes. 7pm comes. 7:40pm I text asking for an update. Nothing.

8:30pm I'm figuring out what friends I can call to break into my own house. Text neighbor again and notice this text doesn't go through.

Text neighbor's partner being like "hey sorry, can't seem to reach Molly--". Get a text back "Sorry this is Molly on David's phone! My phone died." Family Christmas plans ran late but they're on their way back and will be home soon. Thank goodness.

9pm-ish, they get back, give Patches attention and top up her food. I get a text "David fixed your door!" Woo!

Friday 5pm I finally get home

Lugging my suitcase up three flights of stairs while I hear Patches meowing like a dying Victorian child

Shoes off coat off suitcase down fish out keys unlock door grab doorknob

...Doorknob falls off

Falls off right into my hands

Staring at doorknob. Staring at door. Patches meowing. Shove doorknob against door like an idiot and no it does not go back on.

Fucking

Go down flight of stairs, knock on Molly and David's door. David is luckily home. "My doorknob fell off again can I go home"

David lets me in. I scoot past their dogs and apparently I startled the more nervous one since she apparently tried to nip at me but I didn't even notice because I'm like my cat.

Get in through the back hall.

Patches comes bounding over.

My cat.

Doesn't even know she was a prisoner.

Doesn't even know what a doorknob is.

Later that night receive a text from neighbor apologizing for the dog and I'm like "I Did Not Even Notice."

Any attempt to leave my house now is perilous until I fix the doorknob.

Can't even leave my door cracked open because I know Patches is gonna shove her stupid little face through it and become the opposite of a prisoner.

I wanna go buy a reeces peanut butter cup but by god it's not worth the risk

I'm gonna try to fix the doorknob

Or... buy? a new doorknob?

On Amazon searching "doorknob".

Merry Christmas

[phantomrose96]

You are completely right because I have now investigated the knob and can confirm the screw holding the knob to bar was loose. I have tightened the screw and it SEEMS fixed but I’m very Fool Me Once on this since my neighbor also thought they’d fixed it.

There is a Home Depot trip in my future. Or maybe an online purchase if Patches would get off my laptop

[phantomrose96]

Merry Christmas I hope I know how to install a doorknob

[phantomrose96]

Complication. Doorknob is here and I tried to install it, but because my door is older than God, the latch-majig (technical term) is offset like an inch higher than the knob. Modern doorknob has the latch LEVEL with the knob.

To swap in the new knob I'd need to cut a new knob-hole an inch higher in the door which

With what tools

That would leave an unused gaping doorknob-sized hole in my door which any robber the size of a weasel or smaller will use to rob my home. I don't need fucking Redwall in my home.

Probably bad for the integrity of the door

I don't wanna.

I think what I really want is just the knob like above tags said. Like the knob and the rectangular bar, which I can substitute in for my stripped-bare knob and rectangle bar. I WOULD do this with the new knob, but it's got two welded-on spokes poking out from the knob.

I can maybe drill two holes for the spokes in my door...?

(Squinting at shitty amazon listings trying to see if any knobs don't have the two spokes)

(I think the two spokes might be standard.)

Developing new respect for Jesus (carpenter).

In the meantime, because I'd already unscrewed a lot of things I DID take the genius action of flipping my current doorknob around.

This way the side that causes problems is on the INSIDE.

Doorknob fall of while INSIDE house significantly better than doorknob fall off while OUTSIDE.

I'm retightening all the screws.

Patches has offered no solutions.

[phantomrose96]

So it does!

Never heard the term "spindle doorknob" before so I never would have found this on my own.

They're also all labeled "vintage" which extra feels right since my door predates the Cambrian Explosion.

Crowdsourcing my door fix on Tumblr dot com! Doorknob 2.0 is ordered.

[phantomrose96]

At least 4,000 but we still got time

[phantomrose96]

New doorknob should get here tomorrow, but in the meantime things in the notes of this post:

Several dozen stories of other people getting locked in/out of bathrooms/basements/classrooms/bedrooms/buildings. Extra shout out to the person whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid4reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesdweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Patches is on my keyboard

whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid succession, to both sides of a classroom door after being saved the first time.

Several people taking this as a sign to go tighten their doorknob screws, including someone whose knob fell off in their hands while doing this

10 or so people reading the "can't have shit in Detroit" meme to mean I live in Detroit. Sorry to confess I'm a fake Detroitite. Doxxing myself by 0.00001% more by informing the world I live in not-Detroit.

Many many people wondering why I'm not pestering my landlord about this. Truth is my landlord is way too sexy, cool, fashionable, smart, pretty, funny, and popular on Tumblr to it's me. It's me. I'm me I'm my landlord. It's my condo. Including, with immense regret, every single doorknob inside.

3 separate professional locksmiths who have reached out offering advice, which is very cool. I have burst into a virtual hardware store clutching my shit doorknob and fainted, only to be caught by three very strong and cool locksmiths rushing to my aid.

Person with a story of dogsitting a friend's Tibetan Mastiff who managed to knock the entire backdoor down. Taking inspiration from this to train Patches in battering-ram techniques, should she ever get locked inside again.

[phantomrose96]

[phantomrose96]

DOORKNOB

ALSO MY PAPER TOWELS

(Ran out of paper towels)

Old knob coming off.

Wretched thing. Accursed knob of woe.

Get undid

New knob reign by forceful coup. Went to great pains to PRECISELY wait Patches is escaping

Patches retrieved

Anyway GREAT care was taken to ensure both knobs are ALIGNED, EVEN, SCREWED ON, with the wait hang on

Patches retrieved again.

Anyway

DOORKNOB SCREWED ON

KNOB

Still gonna keep the emergency screwdriver in the hall for probably the next month.

[phantomrose96]

In conclusion look at my cat

[windstrikenbard]

this was the best rollercoaster I ever read thank you

[lythrxm]

✽ ― MY FAITH IS BOUND IN KNOTS // ZHONGLI.

( SYN. ) shibari was an artform in your hands, and zhongli your willing model. but hemp ropes, you learn, could barely tie down a dragon provoked. ( aka, my first pwp attempt someone help meee. )

( CW. ) 5.5k wc. afab ! reader, shibari / rope tying, bondage, dom ! zhongli, sub ! reader, reader and zhongli downbad for each other ( help ), no assigned pronouns but the reader has a vagina, edging, some slight brat taming if you squint, slow sex because zhongli is old and likes taking his time, doggy style / prone bone. reader i tied guys and frustrated and a bit of a gremlin. MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS ; DO NOT INTERACT!

THERE IS AN INTIMACY IN THE WAY Zhongli acts around you — between the delicate touches he shares to the comfortable silences spent at home.

There is an intimacy in the way he whispers your name, in how he looks at you ( and his eyes, they light up and they’re the most beautiful thing ), in how he smiles that small smile.

There is an intimacy in Zhongli you knew, locked away in jars as keepsakes to remember.

You liken him to art, in that sense. There were those small similarities, to the deeper nuances within every stroke and the little bursts of imperfections — a smudged spot, a shaky line — you could see if you squint a little closer. And you do, staring at him when you could, taking him in, taking everything in. 

Sometimes you wonder if you could ever emulate all that on paper. The way his nose slopes, or the way his lips curl. You wonder if you could write it down with the justice it deserves, or paint out the heaviness in his gaze and the contours on his face ( six thousand years worth of it ). 

You doubt it; not when mortal hands could hardly scrape the surface. Zhongli says the minds of humans were fascinating things, zipping and bouncing and thinking things too fast, too quick and people could only struggle to keep up with them. 

You find yourself feeling the same way. 

It wasn’t sexual, your initial request. You liked trying out new things, and rope tying found its way to be one of them. The Inazuman who provided the classes called it kinbaku and he taught you and a few interested onlookers the basics over a workshop tucked away in the quieter streets by the harbor — knots, ties, how to tighten and loosen rope and how to undo it all. He taught basic safety and the best materials to use, and hygiene and treatment. It took a week, maybe two, perhaps a few days more.

Then you return home, and bask in your newfound knowledge in the lonesome times of the day, where your thoughts are a little louder. You itch to show it off and it gnaws at the back of your mind with reckless insistence. The rope you impulsively bought was tucked away at the back of the closet with everything else that best stays from unwanted eyes. Even Zhongli didn’t know of it till you mustered up a bit of courage and pulled the bag out.

“Can I try it on you?” you ask Zhongli as he takes the rope and tests it between his hands. His gaze is thoughtful, curious and he tilts his head at the question. “I just want to try out some of the techniques I learned.” you add quickly in a moment of fluster. You do not understand why your cheeks felt so hot. But Zhongli was beautiful, and as a canvas — well you would rather not let your thoughts head there.

Something deep inside you screams viscerally. You smack it away and cover it up with a metaphorical carpet. There, all gone. )

( Breathe. This is fine, breathe.

“I’ve heard of shibari in passing through the centuries. Considering you have a little more knowledge on it than I…why not?” He hands you the rope with a hint of a smile. There is expectancy there, and a flash of something else. You falter just a little ( you know what you saw, you did ). 

Oh.

Oh so you really were doing this.

It’s just for aesthetics. You slap yourself internally and take the rope, watching Zhongli glide the bed with an effortless sort of grace. It’s mesmerizing to look at sometimes, how he feels akin to something ungraspable, immaterial like cloudy whisps or the mountain mist in the break of dawn. But there was solidity too. There was the tremor, the sound of footfalls, the way the mattress sinks beneath him; real, there, present.

Zhongli beckons you to come close. He rests his chin on his hand and there is amusement set awash. “Is something wrong?” Yes, you feel hot all over. 

“Love, I do not doubt your capabilities one bit. But I doubt you could tie me up from all the way there.”

You blink. “Right! Right.” you mumble and shuffle forth, watching him unbutton his coat, his waistcoat, his gloves. With the layers being stripped down to his bare torso and pants, and his eyes lidded in a languid — almost imperious — stare, you begin.

A diamond harness first, something that can tie his arms as well. It’s a simpler one for the struggling novice that is you and the mistakes were easier to unmake ( you do not want to think of the potential catastrophes of trapping him in shibari hell. The humiliation would be horrific ). “You’ll let me know if it gets uncomfortable, right?”

“I highly doubt anything could deter me.” he quotes solemnly in turn. 

“Now you’re just joking.” you kiss his cheek and he has the audacity to chuckle, nose brushing up against yours with fond nuzzling in store. You feel your chest fill with far too much at once ( it’s warm and exasperating and you love every bit of it ).

“It’s you.” he says instead, and there is a sincere weight to it. “And I fail to see why I shouldn’t trust you, dear heart.”

He kisses your wrist and stays still, letting you weave the rope around him. A column tie, a few tugs, a mistake, undoing it all and starting over. You furrow your brows as you work and you let yourself slip into the task with every bit of thought pouring into it like a vat of water. You shift around Zhongli, lean in close and fail to notice how he stiffens beneath your touch. Maybe if your head wasn’t so far into the clouds, you might have.

Zhongli is watching you while you work. This, you notice, for his rapt attention holds an intensity that burns holes in most. You feel a little mousy and slow your movements. You realize taking your time was a wiser choice. Ah, you learn something every day.

Your fingers press up against his palm as you bind his arms down, carefully tugging his hair out of the way lest it get caught. Your knuckles graze the column of his neck — the contact fleeting, a wingbeat. You glance at him. He was steadily getting warmer to the touch and you could see his ears flush scarlet. “Are you okay?” you, concern settling fast. You maneuver in front of him with a position a little too awkward for you to be comfortable.

There was hunger in his gaze. The first glimpse of a dragon prodded and poked too much. The bells in your mind let out their tolls ( it’s resonant, loud ) and you almost speak up. Then it is gone and he looks upon you with placid reassurance. A slate wiped clean. A beast laid to rest.

“I am fine. You may continue.” Your fingers tighten around his arm for a nervous moment. You search his face, the marks beneath his eyes for scales or flashes of fang beneath his lips. None. Your shoulders sag.

“Alright.” you almost sound disappointed; but really, what did you expect? Your boundaries were drawn and Zhongli would stand by them as he always done. He is a darling for that, so you let it be. The frustration sparking inside your chest aches like a flash burn. A painful moment before it dissolves.

The final band was knotted in place and you step back with a sigh, proud of your new accomplishments. It took well over half an hour to finish with, and a bit more rope than you expected. Two whole pieces, with the rest 

“Is it too tight?”

“No.” he sounds breathless. “It’s fine.”

You tug at the rope, testing the tautness and reason that he is fine. Then you tilt his chin up, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Thank you for being patient.” you add gratefully, adjusting a few wonky binds by hand. You take him in — really take him in this time.

The trembling beneath your chest is a deluge of many things at once. The more fleeting fancies as you rove his form. The more palpable ones, like the awe that surfaces. The forbidden little scraps of smugness, for fettering a god like this is hardly a sight oft witnessed ( and yet you did it, despite that ). 

He is beautiful. 

It makes your heart squeeze. Your touches are innocent, explorative, tracing the indents of flesh, how muscle sinks beneath tight knots. The struggle, the errors, the silly slip ups seemed a far away annoyance with the results at hand. It was worth the wait, and the classes and the sinking embarrassment and that first damning step asking him for his time. A greedy part of you wants to drink him in forever, keep this moment trapped in time for your own guilty pleasures. 

You touch and touch and touch, a vessel of curiosity and admiration. He shudders. His eyes squeeze shut and he looks wound up, like a bowstring, like something was gripping too hard at the edges.

“Zhongli…Zhongli are you certain you’re all right?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” You lean closer and check. Perhaps through the feverish daze you lost yourself in, you missed something. Maybe there was an uncomfortable knot. Maybe the wrists were tied too tight. There are many things you could think of and the heat of Zhongli’s breath on your neck is what draws you back immediately with a widened gaze.

There were a rare few who could tug at Zhongli’s stringed patience and suffer little consequence, partly due to the seemingly endless reserves of it he holds much like the gold he bleeds. The other end of the matter was simple closeness; Hu Tao with her youthful impishness and eccentricities, Cloud Retainer who’d nag him as an old, old friend and you, who holds his heart with mortal hands and him, your own.

And in his eyes, you see those threads snap.

“Untie me.”

You nip down on your lips. You know that look. You know where this is going and hot blooded excitement stirs inside. 

“What will you do to me if I listen?” 

If he were free, you’d like to think he’d have grabbed you then, given your hips a rough squeeze, let out a tense growl. “You know well, dear heart. Now, untie me.” 

The order leaves no room for argument. You nod your most obedient nod and undo your work. You wish you could have witnessed it a little longer; but when the ropes finally fall away, Zhongli pulls you closer, and you feel heat beneath your fingertips when you steady yourself. It’s like a forge fire, fed with an intent to fold iron and melt steel. 

He’s touching you everywhere, stealing kisses that you think could swallow you whole. Your clothes are tugged away one by one. You have no time or need to bask in shame. Zhongli made sure to tear that down a long time ago.

“Stay still now,” he whispers.

He starts tying you up. There is a lump of excitement that grows in your throat. You give him tips, pointers and he’s quick to learn from instruction and observation alone. As the moments tick by and your bare skin kisses the cool sheets below you, Zhongli takes his time, like he’s partaking in the finest of indulgences.

You try not to focus too much on the growing heat between your legs or Zhongli’s heated stare. The bustle on the street draws your attention — the clamor, the stalls, the distant opera performance. You recognize that dulcet tune and the flush to your cheeks ebbs away.

Then his fingers dip down and stroke your cunt.

“Eyes on me.” he demands. You yelp, feeling a jolt streak through. The final knot is tightened and he turns you over like a man starved. Zhongli favored many dishes in his feasts, delicacies that ranged between eloquent tastes and visual delights. He regards you with that same gleam. You part your lips. “Hm…how enticing.”

Your eyes flutter shut, resisting the urge to dig into the sheets with a bratty scowl. “Zhongli.” you breathe. “Will you touch me?”

He tilts his head, his smile teasing. “Where?” he asks, grazing your stomach, your thighs, your calves. You cannot muffle out the mewl you let out, arms bound fast. You tug at the ropes. They burn a bit, barring any movement. It’s frustrating and it’s arousing and you want to taste more. 

“You know where.” you snap back, legs coming to part.

He touches the inside of your thigh, sun catching gold and his glamored markings. “Here?” He tests, needle point attentiveness drinking in how you squirm, how you pant and shake your head with a vexed bite to your lips. 

“No. higher. A little higher.” you can feel the dampness pool down. You know he can sense it too, his cheeks dyed a soft pink. Still, he grazes away from where you want him, and you scratch at the hemp fibers with little success as he only just traces over your outer labia and settles just below your navel. 

Your toes curl inwards and you give him a playful, antagonizing kick to his knee. “I think you’re trying to tear me apart.” you declare, till your voice catches and shifts to a subdued squeak as he grabs the intruding foot and hauls your lower half onto his lap ( and you’re taken easily, heart set aflutter ). The exposed vulnerability, the way he spreads your legs apart, it jars you.

“Indulge me.” he purrs his assurance, pressing up to the soft flesh of your thigh. You feel his arousal graze your back, clothes yet impossibly hard. 

A twitch, a shuddering gasp; you grind up into his stomach in a demand to proceed.

Indulgence, in Zhongli’s words, is a slow process of perceiving, savoring and reacting. He tells you so as he pours expensive teas in cups of clay, steel or porcelain and has you smell the aromas and still your nerves to a slowed tempo. Indulgence, it’s a word that feels like saccharine honey, like something rich and syrupy that messes your tongue and weighs it down. 

Perhaps, his favorite part of it was savoring the bite. Feasts are feasts, tea is tea and pleasure is pleasure — every moment of enjoying it is deserving of its own pace. 

It is madness.

He’s moved you once more, resting your back against his chest where his heartbeat is a deafening  rumble to your ears. It speeds up every time you let out a moan, rabbiting through with unbridled excitement and strained patience. Yet…yet he keeps himself together. It’s unfair, how he plays his cards and tilts them away when you beg for a view. 

“Zhongli.” you mumble, heavy beneath the haze. You gave up trying to fight your bonds. The rope is of good quality and is stronger than it seems. You curse yourself for that choice, after the swift regression of your initial intention. Breaking free felt like such a far off dream. Zhongli replies with a curious hum and a tilt to his head. His hands cup at your breasts, tweaking at your nipples, pinching, prodding in silent demand. 

It flares up, that annoyance. You want to touch him, to drag your nails across his pectorals and feel that heartbeat beneath your palm. You want to claw at his back as he fucks you into the bed. You want so, so much and it’s building inside in numbers and need. It;s spilling over the edges. You want to cry ( it feels so good ).

A gasp. He presses his teeth to your shoulder, leaving deep indents into your collar. It will bruise in the future, but you care little, whimpering as veins rupture and pain steeps into the pleasure. Your mind sinks into a hazy delight, all cotton and clouds and tartness — and the safety of Zhongli’s arms around you while he touches all he could. 

“I think you’re being — AH — petty…” you could hardly articulate. But you’re greedy. You want more. It’s a neediness that slowly creeps up and tangles into your chest like a network of vines. He could have you however he pleased, in whatever position he wishes. You just want him to cease his teasing. You want to feel the burn of his skin, to bite, to mark him yourself. 

“Am I?” he asks, feigning innocence, grinding his hips up into your heat. Your mouth falls open but the sound that escapes is strained. “I suppose I am in need of some introspection, yes? Would you like to aid me, little love?”

You headbutt his jaw gently with a garbled ‘no’, your breaths outpaced. You have a thousand trapped butterflies battering in your ribs. Zhongli lets out a sharp breath, a muffled laugh ( you catch sight of his face. The amused crinkle in his eyes. The smile that threatens to show ). 

He sates your offense with a kiss, deep, slow, soft till tongue laves away at the seam of your lips and you let him in. Your debauched whine is cut short; he pulls you closer with a hunger patience cannot hide, close, so close till your chest is flush against him. He pulls away, wet lips leaving a damp trail of kisses down your neck, your chest, nipping at your nipples with a pleased huff. 

“Is this alright?” he asks, stopping to look at you.

“If you’re not going to tease me anymore.” you mumble. “Then yes.” 

“Noted.” he has the audacity to look cheeky as he pulls at a knot and snaps it back in place. You yip, dragging against his shaft and the hiss Zhongli slips out is music in the midst of cacophony. That bit of control is reined back quickly, however. Zhongli knows how to tune out the best noises and play your notes into a sifting melody. He learns fast and he learns diligently and he knows where to drag those knots and have you fold into him with pathetic little moans. 

He lays you back, fingers splayed along your knees as he parts your legs and slots himself between them with a thoughtful sigh, taking you in once more. “You’re beautiful.” he tells you, with all the sweet sincerity in the world. You’d be a fool to call him a liar when he looks so smitten. “I should buy a kamera one day. I’d like photos of you.”

Your cheeks heat. “You would?” you ask, feeling warm, fuzzy and your core clenches around emptiness. 

He casts you a puzzled glance. “Why wouldn’tI?” he asks, as if the idea was not a compromising slip, rather an innocent request. “Wouldn’t you want some of me?” he dips down, kissing your thighs and he’s smirking against skin. You jolt, cry out ( “Zhongli!” ) and turn your face into the soft pillows in anticipation.

A kiss. “I know you loved seeing me tied up.'' His taunts are effective. Your mind claws into that fantasy like a feral beast. It pleasures in it, delight lining its panting. You did like seeing him tied up. “And I'm certain you wouldn’t object to a few photos of me.” Another kiss. He was close. So close. You feel sensitive, so sensitive and you want, want, want.

Silence.  

His pause goads you to finally meet gilded amber. “It could be a dirty secret…a private contract if you will.” 

You scream.

His tongue was hot, hot against you and you didn’t quite expect the rawness you felt or how wet you were for him. You couldn’t move much and his hold on your hips is an unfaltering thing. He doesn’t wish to be disturbed while he feasts, licking away at your slick till you fumble beneath him.

“MmmMH, m-more.” you groan. You’d have liked to grab at his hair, tug at it a little while you try to catch your breath, every bit of you frazzled and coming apart at the seams. Zhongli huffs, pulls you closer and kisses your clit, then your entrance, drunk in his own way. You see control come away. He’s close to snapping and you shift and press your cunt into his mouth, a craving to watch it shatter. 

“How impatient. How impertinent.”

Zhongli’s coo stills any misbehavior. He eats at you, sucking, nibbling, licking away at all the spots that unravel your being. You mold into his hands like soft clay, and he shapes you, lets you set, pulling away for a few teasing moments before returning to a mix of slick and saliva and a mess that he ( for all his poise and elegance ) revels in. 

There is lust there, a need, a contentment over this. Indulgence, indulgence in its finest form and Zhongli savors the feast with intent and little shame. Some may call him a fool, for a god to fall so far. But he was a god no longer and what were mortals, really, with no desires of theirs to chase?

A finger slips in. You curl up, lifting a leg over his shoulder with a needy, desperate keen. He is careful, delicate, languid and maybe a little cruel in his slow pace. In the far reaches of your lost thoughts, you’re reminded of your first time, where the sting was a little more painful and a little less easy. It’s one of Zhongli’s quiet prides, how the two of you learned to take each other so well, like magnets to metal. His digit sinks into you easily and he passes a pleased lift to his lips.

“N-no more teasing, right?” you ask, voice muffled by the pillows.

“No more teasing.” he promises. “At least, not for tonight.”

You roll your eyes and turn to strain your neck. Zhongli understands, moving up to seal it with a kiss and returns below, beginning his slow thrusts in and out and in. You moan unobstructed, just for him, him to remember. It’s too little yet too much at the same time, a paradox in a paradox of pleasure. You want more. You gasp into the air when he curls into that spot, dragging himself lazily through the motions.

He bends down, takes your clit in his tongue and one finger becomes two.

The restrictive bonds around you, the ones he tugs from time to time dig down hard. You hope they leave marks, reminders. You hope Zhongli looks at them as he bathes you and asks for more. His pace is still slow, but he thrusts hard, taking care to keep his strength tempered through want. It batters you. You love it. You love it so much.

Good. good, you want more.

“Yes…” you sob. “Ah…yes…love, my love…” 

He shudders, flicking your clit with his tongue, keeping his fingers at pace, slick and saliva coating his lips. Zhongli spreads your legs just a little more, pulling you up at an angle with far better reach. Your nerves are abuzz. Everything is and your release is achingly close. He promised he wouldn’t tease you, that you know and you wait, you chase, you cry out with no hands to mute yourself. 

His fingers stretch you out and strokes at your sweet spot with a persistent passion. Your hips jolt and twitch and shudder then you release and Zhongli takes it in, continuing to slide in and out of you. Your trembling as that rope snaps and he pulls out, licking at his fingers and rubbing at your sides soothingly.

“Mh. good.” he praises. “You did well. So well.” 

“I want more.” you choke out between the garbled tears and your lightheadedness. 

Zhongli kisses your cheek. “I know.” he assures you. “Comfort first. You’re exhausted. Would you like me to untie you?” You shake your head. You want to keep the helplessness close. You like the flavor of it. Zhongli hums. “Alright. And you remember our safe word?” He kisses your nape as he carefully turns you over, belly down. 

He loosens some of the knots and pushes some pillows below you for your ease. The fabric is cool beneath your touch, a medley of silks and cottons that you take in. They all smell like him, like sandalwood and tea. He presses against you flush, free hand unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. He doesn’t remove them all the way. You think his control has slipped too far for that.

And that draws a tired, smug smile from you. Zhongli nips the shell of your ear in teasing response. Don’t get too cocky, he seems to say. You won’t, you assure him. 

“Spread your legs.” he instructs. You obey, twitching and shaking. He shifts a thigh in and chuckles. “Wider.” 

“Wider?” you repeat.

“Wider.” he nods and you do so. He settles between you easier and you stay open and exposed, fists clenching uselessly behind you. Zhongli places a hand there, lacing your fingers with his own. You feel him against your leg. He’s hard, so hard and your mouth waters for it as you hungrily hold his hand for dear life, hoping to be grounded lest your bones give way and you float out of this body while in wait. 

A moment, then another. His comfort eases your muscles into relaxation. You feel his tip slide past your outer lips. It nudges your clit ( and there it was, that pressure slowly building in the bit of your stomach like a rope near snapping ). You pant, bury your face into the sheets and wait, wait for him to move. The tiny sparks were enough to send you reeling. It was liquid want that boils your veins now. 

“You said you won’t tease me.” you accuse. Your voice pitches to something hysterical. You want to tug at his hair, his ponytail, anything, but you settle with his fingers and try not to think about gently gnawing at them if it means he ceases whatever…this is. You’re going to crumble to dust if he keeps this up — you’re sure of it. 

“I’m not.” he states, blinking and he’s smiling, this bastard. 

“I’ll bite you.” you swear. “I’ll fucking bite you if you keep this up.”

“Bite me then.” He seems distracted till he lowers his head by your ear. It tickles, the proximity and you instinctively flinch away. “Do that and I'll see to a fitting punishment.” 

You could do it now. But punishments mean scraping away the nicer things in favor of twisting pleasure into torture. You loved your share of masochism on days when your mind was abuzz and too jittery. Now, you want him inside you. You want to rest. You want Zhongli.

He knows. He moves a bit of hair away from your forehead. “Are you relaxed?” he asks, beginning his gradual push into you. Your lips part into a wordless keen. He kisses your cheek. “Alright.” A whisper. You can hear the shudder, the softest tremble in his voice.

Zhongli is diligent when it comes to preparing you. Maybe that is why he isn’t too fond of quicker sessions behind the scenes, where the strain from taking his cock was a little harsher than he’d have liked. He holds you close now, slipping through the cracks and you think he might bleed into you with how close you’re borne to him. “Easy now…” he soothes a sting. He rubs your arm and kisses your neck. “You take me so well, see?”

You wonder what you look like, beneath him, to bring forth that flush to his cheeks. To watch him tremble, reel with lust. 

( You look like art.

To Zhongli, he likens you to wine, to pleasant summer nights, and the comforting things that make his old heart squeeze. He likens you to home, to the human moments, the tinier flashes that remind him of love and loss and chip away at the stone that ages him.

You’re beneath him now. He’s seen this sight before. But oh, to watch you fall apart and tremble with lust and adoration, into a beautiful sort of mess stirs something primal deep inside. It always wins, even by a hair’s breadth or a long margin. Zhongli knows the dangers of it but he could never truly control himself around you. You’ve ensnared him that way, wholly, completely. 

Zhongli finds solace in it. He lets it constrict his heart. For you are you and he loves you. )

He bottoms out. He’s deep so deep and the sheets fall prey to your teeth and block away the desperation and the whimpers. He buries your nose into your neck. “Qīn ài de.” he mumbles. “Call me that again.”

You tilt your head. Your cheeks burn but there is tenderness in your eyes. “My love.” you whisper.

Zhongli grits his teeth, following it by rolling his hips into you. The sudden thrust nearly knocks the wind out of your lungs. You buck back into him in turn, mumbling out keening, unintelligible nonsense. “Again.” he mumbles. He sounds drunk. You shut your eyes between the tears and the moans. 

“L-love. Zhongli, m-my love — ” it’s an echo. You could barely manage stringing it together. Zhongli’s lips part. He shuts his eyes in bliss, his movements slow, careful but hard in ways that make your teeth rattle and your limbs feel boneless. He mouths open kisses at your neck, your back. 

You press up into the mattress, fucked into it with little mercy yet so much raw affection in how he holds you. There are so many things you want to say. The words could not form. You keep them to yourself. His hands grope down, fingers slotting between your legs. The mess you leave behind is pooling, dripping into the sheets. You feel shame sting at your ears. Zhongli does not care.

“You’ve been good.” he utters into your neck as he cants his hips. You let out a broken sound the moment he drags it against your sweet spot, and he takes it onto himself to gently peel you apart and let pleasure still your senses and every pore inside you. You’re pinned down, you let him use you as he pleases. He devours that chance and he devours you. “Mine, my qingxin.” 

“Yours.” you sob. “Yours.” you’re full. Full of him, full of cock, and you let it consume every bit of you, down to flesh, down to bone. He touches your clit, sensitive, sore and you scream into the sheets, sob, beg — for what, you have no clue of it. You jerk at the binds and his free hand curls round the rope, tugging you up into him, raking across indented skin with a famished groan.

Zhongli thrusts. He thrusts into you, and his tempo stays steady and his face stays flushed. That peak however, it approaches fast and easy, with how you’re being worn down by his sweet words. His hand finds yours again. You give it a squeeze and glance at him through the tears. “Z-Zhongli.” you sob. “Zhongli.”

“I know.” Zhongli does not slow. You’re going to crumble. Your foundations will weather. You’ll be air perhaps, or dust. It feels that way. “Come. Come for me, love.”

You don’t immediately. Not yet and he strokes your clit harder, faster, aiding where he can till that pressure comes loose and you slump into the pillows and sheets with a garbled moan, twitching, writhing. One of his hands rests at your side and the other steadies your form. He continues to thrust, quicker, sloppier, the noises he makes are messy and obscene and wet and you’re left so so sensitive and it feels so good —

“I love you.” You slip out.

He kisses you. Hungry. Tender. Everything at once. His weight is a comfort against it all. You shut your eyes. He continues to fuck you, well into overstimulation till your mind is foggy with little thought. At some odd point, as the fuzziness clears, you think you feel him groan and twitch, then something hot and wet spilling onto your back. 

The ropes fall undone. The harness constricting your chest, your arms. He rubs down the burns and massages any sore spots. “Was it too much?”

You shake your head.

He coos. Zhongli loves taking care of you and you let him, feeling his weight shift and a cool cloth wipe you down. Water is next, as is the routine, sipped as you seat yourself on his lap and he kisses your shoulders and the bruises. You feed him a slice of sunsettia before having one for yourself. Then some of the apples. It’s sweet. It’s comfort. 

He leans his head into your neck. “We need more rope.” he mumbles.

“More rope?” you gawk.

“I could choose colors that suit you better.” a pause. “And we need a kamera.” he adds. Now you’re gaping.

“Zhongli, Zhongli I adore you but the mora — ”

“I’ll have Northland Bank foot the bill. They have plenty.” cheeky bastard. He kisses you. “Let this old man enjoy the little things, love. Or would you consider adding it to my list of birthday presents?”

Oh, this man. You sink down and finish your sunsettia slice. You take one more, pressing it to his lips. He takes a bite. Chews thoughtfully.

“I’ll consider it.” you sniff. ( “How haughty.” he croons into your neck. You shake your head. ) “Maybe I might just buy one for you.”

❪⠀🌸⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

HAPPY NEW YEAR. it's my first post here on my smut blog and hey hey hey here's shibari smut i guess. and happy birthday zhongli!!! ( shhh it's the 1st over here but look, timezones are whack so if anyone is reading this and it's still the 31st...this is my birthday fic kjhgvfgbh ).

anyway, hey guys, it's me, aine from @lychniis. i write smut in this blog ig. feel free to be as filthy as you want here XD.

also a huge thanks to ely, crys, moth and eun ( and my other zl sisterwives ) who kind of went through this whole spiel of me going insane about this on the server as a posed what if. it took a lot of hyping up for me to actually get cracking and finish this oneshoit in time for the new years / zhongli's birthday. smut is NOT easy ( hence why this blog exists ) and i do want to write it better.

taglist — @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @moraxsthrone @silkjade @yuellii @meimeimeirin @euniveve @sheepmc @zhxngii @chiyoso @timeofsilversstuff @francisnyx @laughterofthetombs @ollieink @localplaguenurse

AINE | lychniis. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[finisnihil]

I’m tired of people acting like Zhongli is a serious and chill guy who would never cause problems on purpose as if he isn’t one of the biggest menaces out of the Seven. He used to throw mountains at Venti for annoying him. He, the god of history, starts fights among historians for shits and giggles. He tried to gaslight the Traveler into thinking he was totally not at the Chasm guys really Aether/Lumine you must be seeing things maybe you should go see Baizhu. When Qiqi wanted “Cocogoat” milk he was like “Oh yeah sure totally let’s go look for it” knowing damn well it was a wild goose chase. He made the Traveler sing to a flower and then was like “Oh would you look at that” when a Whooperflower jumped out to maul them. I love him. He’s like a cat pushing things off the counter to see how people react. I would pay to see him interact directly with Neuvillette because I know for a fact he’d get on that man’s nerves and argue about water tasting just to feel something. Furina used freedom from godhood to take a nap and Zhongli used it to give psychic damage to anyone who talks to him longer than 5 minutes. Iconic.

[finisnihil]

SO TRUE BESTIE like there’s literally a part where Paimon calls Zhongli a parasite and comments he has to live off other people’s credit because he can’t just make money for himself or get free shit for being an Archon anymore and he just looks at her and goes “I mean it’s just the Fatui’s money you don’t have to say it like that” LIKE EJRNRJRJRJFJR HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING HE’S VERY AWARE HE’S JUST BEING A LITTLE SHIT BECAUSE HE CAN GET AWAY WITH IT

It’s even funnier when you consider it’s basically a middle finger to Pantalone because his entire thing is trying to take over the economy to spite Zhongli only for Zhongli to turn around and start mooching off him without consequence bro is a MENACE and I just know when Pantalone saw Childe’s financial reports he was frothing at the mouth about it

[empyrean-reflection]

ATTENTION SMUTBLOGS!!!

Please put smut under a cut or put universal and easily filterable words like NSFW, smut, MDNI, etc on your posts!!! Tagging "(character) smut" isn't good enough because even if you put the word "smut" in your filtered tags or post content, it won't cover tags in the format "(character) smut". Which forces you to block every version of that tag for every character in all the fandoms you're in and that's just not reasonable for most of us!!! It would literally be over 100 tags for me tbh bc of how many fandoms I'm in.

Anyway being surprised with a smutpost with no header or warning whatsoever other than the "(character) smut" tag is just super annoying and also makes me worried about scrolling Tumblr near anybody. (And also it means a minor has definitely read your content, accidentally or otherwise.) Sorry to bother anyone, I just wanted the sudden influx of smutblogs to know!!

[windstrikenbard]

I always do my utmost best to censor my smut 👌🏻👌🏻 please remember to do so for all my fellow smut writers

[windstrikenbard]

The Birthday Present

Pairing: Wriothesley x reader

Warnings: Suspension, Overstimulation, AFAB reader, Wrio is a devil I stg

A/N: I saw his birthday art and this has been brainrotting ever since... Enjoy you sillies.

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

The gentle bite of ropes digging into your skin kept you grounded as the floor fell away beneath you, the clanking of some kind of pulley pulling you up into the air. A hungry moan echoed from behind you, but you couldn't turn, only shiver as the chill of Wriothesley's fingers trail over your plump cheeks.

"So fuckin' good Princess... Archons you look so good..." He breathed, running his hand against your leg, up the ropes, then down your arms, coming to a stop at your chin. "Wanna take you here and now baby..."

You whine incoherently in response, the pleasure of subspace taking words away. You feel his gaze travel over you, before turning back to meet your eyes with pure lust.

"Got a little present for you baby... I know, I know, it's my birthday, but I couldn't resist princess." He disappears from your view, and you focus on the ropes biting into your skin to stay grounded.

Cold liquid dripping down your ass makes you flinch, but the suspension prevents you from jerking away. A soft, shuddering moan leaves your lips as thick, calloused hands massage the lube into your pussy, filling you up so deliciously.

"hmm so tight on my fingers. How is my cock supposed to fit in here, hmm?" Wriothesley murmurs softly, before stuffing a cold, rubber object into your gaping hole. He clicks a button, and soft vrrr fills the air as the object vibrates.

You gasp, unable to even squirm, as it runs against your g-spot perfectly. Movement rustles behind you before you're left alone, moaning and gasping in pleasure from the toy.

You barely register when Wriothesley comes back, taking a seat in front of you with a cup of tea. He watches in amusement as you slowly register his presence and whine pathetically for him, tears prickling your eyes from the pleasure.

Actually starts laughing when you whimper that you're close, and pulls out his meaty cock, your eyes locking onto it hungrily. He pumps it lazily, out of your reach, and the toy feels more bothersome then ever.

"Wrio- please...need... need you wrio... am gonna.." you can't even finish your words as pleasure tingles down your spine, and you clench around the toy.

Wriothesley stands up and presses his lips to yours gently. "Did my good girl cum already? Tsk, and you want my cock?"

Tears bring your eyes. You're too pleasure-drunk to use words, so you just cry out desperately, trying to beg wriothesley to take you.

He watches with predatory interest before leaning towards your ear. "I suppose since it's my birthday I'll just have to save your punishment for another day. Can't resist your precious pussy 'nother second."

He's gone in a flash. The toy falls out, and in its place, the thick, long girth of Wriothesley, pulsing as your pussy clenches on it eagerly, the overstimulated burn deliciously pleasent.

You nearly scream as he bottoms out, panting as your eyes blink hazily. He chuckles and rubs a hand over your ass cheeks, slowly moving his hips out.

"good girl... now then, I dont intend to stop anytime soon. So be good, okay princess?"

[hsr-texts]

Nanami finally died and I am inconsolable. Genuinely. I've been crying for an hour. I still wanna cry but my tear ducts are dry after my intense cry session

[windstrikenbard]

Its okay he lives on in my head and between my legs 😌