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Warmth.
Morax had not felt that emotion in a long while. A large, large body in comparison to Morax’s own pressed against the arch of his back. A sheen of cooled sweat grew tacky against his bare skin.
The stranger’s corded arms aligned with his, hands layered atop the other. Together, they were pillars of support to keep Morax afloat; to keep his head blissfully up instead of falling face down into the mattress.
The man… the monster nosed its face to his hair. Its face may be distinctly human, but it cannot disguise the distinct scent of the Abyss. And yet, Zhongli oddly sensed no desire to drive the tip of his polearm into its heart.
“Are you ready, Zhongli?” Distortion and ambivalence layered with inexpressible and unexplainable fondness…
Zhongli?
Before Morax could ponder over how this monster knew his personal name, it thrusted forward, and all coherent thoughts left his mind. The ridges of its armored cock rubbed oh-so deliciously against his walls.
His pussy gushed a stream of slick to smooth the glide of the creature’s cock into his tight hole. The part burned hot against his sensitive insides. Perhaps it was large enough to kiss the entrance of his womb.
Morax did not remember if he’d been thoroughly prepared. The rest of the night had been a blur in the recesses of his memory. He probably was. He felt well-cared for.
The stranger’s fingers comb through the loose strands of his hair, and Morax wanted nothing more than to lean into its touch; its embrace. The sharp edges of its claws comfortingly graze the skin of his scalp.
“Ah… hah. It’s in. I can’t wait, Zhongli,” The creature said breathlessly, and the nails in his hair carefully traced across his shoulders. “I can’t wait to knock you up.”
Morax’s body throbbed with an overwhelming sense of euphoria, sparks of pleasure traveling up his spine in waves. His cunt pulsed with barely-suppressed want.
“Y-Yes. I want it. I want to b-bear your children far more than I’ve wanted anything else…”
Morax blinked. A rush of blood rose to his face, tinting his cheeks in crimson. He did not think that was his voice. He was the Martial God. The Prime of the Adepti. He shouldn’t—
The stranger only rasped in his ear. “My ‘Li. I’m glad to be yours.”
It pulled out entirely, and Morax wanted to bemoan the distressing empty pit in his stomach, but his lover— Lover? —did not waste any time. It immediately rammed its cock straight back in.
Morax drew out a low-pitched cry. His vision blurred, as if his eyes were adjusting to darkness; adjusting to see the stars hidden beneath his eyelids.
His lover repeated the process again, fucking his pussy as the plates and ridges battered the walls of his womb; till it allowed him to enter and deposit all his virile cum into his warm, gooey core.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
“A-Ah!” Morax steadied himself atop the bed, but even that cannot stop him from the barrage of thrusts fucking straight into his cervix. His eyes became glossy from the insurmountable point of pressure, tears welling within.
His lover tightened his hands over Morax’s own, and the intensity of his thrusts somehow increased tenfold. Morax was used to rough treatment, but not like this.
“A— Ajax… A-Ah—! Ajax, Ajax, Ajax…” The name spilled from his lips like a prayer. It was a foreign familiar name in the most intimate moments of his… dream. He cannot stop; he found so much solace in those words.
Morax was torn between keeping his moans locked behind bitten lips, or shoving his face into the pillows to cry to his heart’s content. Was this all in vain efforts to save his diminishing dignity, or a plea to forget his multitude of worries for just a moment— to just feel?
“You can do it, Zhongli. You said you could,” It— He whispered softly against his temple. “Let me hear you. Show me that you are mine as I am yours.”
“Ahh… Ah— Ajax…!” Zhongli cried his lover’s name through stuttered hiccups, pressing his hips back to meet his every thrust. “I— I’m yours. Your— Hnngh… your beloved, your mate, your… betrothed. B-Breed me… impregnate me, and— and…!”
Drool fell from the corner of his lips. Zhongli’s head tipped when Ajax angles his cock just right. Zhongli gasped, and the doors to his womb were finally penetrated.
“I got you, lyubov.” Ajax’s deep voice taunted playfully. “I’ll make sure not to waste a drop of my cum. I’ll make sure to breed my lovely wife so well, he will never wish to leave my lap…”
And Ajax did not. Stop. Fucking. Him. Zhongli felt his feet curl. The pillow was soaked to threads with his saliva and tears, tears, tears. His voice ascended higher in pitch before it’s lost altogether; reduced to breathy, breathy pants in the confines of their bedroom.
Oh, Zhongli felt as if he was on a swath of clouds. He had never felt so good; so cherished and treasured with the promise of family right in his grasp.
He would not be surprised if there was a Zhongli-shaped hole in the mattress once all was said and done. He was being railed to Celestia and back, and then delving deeper into the depths of Abyss by his lover who hailed from there.
A hand wandered to his midriff, and all of Zhongli’s attention fixates on it— the bump distending his stomach that comes and goes, comes and goes…
“You see that, ‘Li?” Zhongli wailed as Ajax massaged the distention, knife-like fingers treading over so delicately and lovingly to leave no marks. Zhongli whined into his hand. “Let us have a clutch together. Let’s have many, many more. A big family…”
Zhongli’s neck ached from nodding so desperately. A mate so eager to breed him; so eager to gift him a home. To be full and be filled with a clutch of eggs…
A rumbly purr sounds from the back of Zhongli’s throat. Secretly, he selfishly wished to never have a flat tummy again.
In an abrupt second, there was a sudden loss in his stomach. Zhongli keened in frustration, eyes screwing shut as his pussy gaped around cold air. He was ready to growl, cry, and fight for that feeling to come back please.
But before Zhongli could act on his instincts, his body was flipped onto its back.
The dragon blood flowing in his veins became furious at how he— the Great Lord of Geo —was being roughhoused by the whims of a monster; lover or not, enemy or not. But the Qilin side of him pleaded valiantly to be submissive, to take whatever his mate wished of him in full.
“Lyubov. Look at me.”
Zhongli opened his eyes.
Strands of vermillion defied gravity, sparks of purple traversing through his hair. It repelled from the body’s influx of pure Electro energy. Vibrant, lively violet eyes reflect the element in its purest form. Ajax bore a handsome face with angular features; stray bangs adhere to his clammy forehead.
Zhongli's couldn’t help but drift toward the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose bridge. A sea of stars. Zhongli wished to map them out in the afterglow, pressing his mouth against every single dot on his face.
So strong and attractive, such an ideal lover despite their differing origins ridden with conflict. It deceived Zhongli into believing he was mortal. (But alas, no perfect being could ever exist in Morax’s battle-laden, perilous life.)
His lover entered him once more, not wasting a second of inaction. He shallowly thrusted his cock into the clenches, and Zhongli thrashed from this renewed pressure.
In this new position, Zhongli burned under the intensity of Ajax’s stare, drinking in his every reaction like it were fermented wine.
He didn’t skimp out on showering Zhongli with praises, slowing his pace to show him the foreign tenderness he desired, hammering rapidly against that spot that had Zhongli whimpering to high heavens.
At the apex of their lovemaking, Ajax gently angled Zhongli’s head with clawed hands, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in.
Zhongli didn’t think he’d ever been kissed before. Ajax licked into his mouth, just as hungry and wanting as he was. His tongue overpowered his own, the thicker and longer muscle that left him breathless.
Love. So beloved. Whatever would Zhongli do for this ephemeral dream to never end…
It is not often that the universe will hear his selfish, selfish pleas.
It is often that life leads down a spiraling path of dissatisfaction.
—-
Morax jolted awake. A bead of cold sweat dripped down his chin. His robes stuck uncomfortably onto his skin from the accumulated perspiration.
He appeared again. The mysterious Abyssal monster in his dreams. Morax wished he could remember his name; it was all but wiped from his memory the moment he woke.
Morax dug his hands into the earth, his claws tearing through stone like a knife through the flesh of fruit. The particles of rock and hard soil that bore into his arms were an irritating sensation, but a welcome one nonetheless.
Anything to ground himself to this dim reality.
Morax cursed that embarrassing surge of foolishness within himself. Curse the Lord of Dust for pushing open his door of vulnerability. Curse him for allowing himself to become so wistful; so sanguine; so naïve.
(“Zhongli? Spare a Mora for your thoughts—”
“—gather around, everyone! Little ‘Li is about to sing—”
“—cannot believe this. Do not think this conversation is over, Zhongli.”)
Once she had passed, there was nobody around to refer to “Zhongli” anymore. For better or worse, he buried that name to vanquish all signs of humanity left within him.
Guizhong’s rapport with mankind had gotten her killed. Weakness did not belong in the battles Morax was fighting to survive; the war he pledged to win so Guili and her diligent people won’t die in vain.
He surveyed the cave he hid in earlier to take shelter from Qingce. The beast had been slain and done with, yet its spirit continues to wreak havoc from beyond the grave. How troublesome.
Morax shifted, only to discover how his pants around the crotch area were drenched in slick. He glanced down at the sodden fabric. It begged for a touch.
His mind flashed to the faceless monster who had tenderly embraced him, promising him a fantasy that would never come to fruition in this lifetime.
Morax sighed a shaky breath. Indulgence. Perhaps. Just this once… one more time. It cannot hurt, surely?
Hesitantly, he laid on his back and slipped a hand between his legs. A moan echoed throughout the cave when a finger caught onto the tent of his clit.
Everywhere he touched set him aflame. Morax pinched his clothed clit, circling firm rubs from all angles. Somewhere along the way, Morax felt his back arch above the ground, chasing after that pleasure like a man starved.
His tongue could taste the stifling, musty air. His neck tilted too far back, his joints sore as the cave tipped upside-down in his vision.
He was pent up beyond words. It reverberated throughout the cave, as if to taunt his moment of vulnerability in full.
Morax saw white. It wasn’t long before a strangled cry escaped from the confines of his throat. He rubbed through his orgasm, through the oversensitivity, through the trembling.
Once the feeling had faded, Morax was all too aware of the uncomfort in his part. In one quick motion, he shredded the fabric, and kicked his legs out through the torn slits.
He gathered his knees to his chest, glaring at his discarded pants with disgust. The inconspicuous pile of cloth had become sticky with his fluids, pearly whites drizzled across wet patches where he squirted.
By all logic, he should be satisfied now. But no, his traitorous consciousness dared to differ.
It whispered how this could never compare to another’s touch, whispered how Morax shouldn’t sit patiently for the next eon when somebody could service him…
(The Abyssal being carried the Lord of Geo in his arms as if he weighed nothing more than a thousand feathers. His lover held him up by the thighs, carefully positioned so Morax’s sensitive, gaping pussy was situated right atop the creature’s mouth.
The innards of Morax’s thighs were littered with bite marks, blooming in the colors of fortune and salmon. That thick, skillful tongue swirled precisely around his folds, his clit, but never daring to enter his empty hole aside from a broad lick across.
Morax doubled over in a mix of exasperation and bliss, clutching to his lover’s head of flaming hair like a lifeline. “Oh, Celestia— J-Just… just shove it in me already!”
The creature’s laugh rumbled against his pussy. Morax almost didn’t care how a line of drool dripped into his hair from the stimulation. “Lyubov. I know you to be more well-mannered than that.”
Mor— Zhongli swallowed his humiliation. Anything went when Zhongli left his body in his lover’s control. “P-Please! I need you… need you, need you, needyou… please f-fuck my pussy till I come on your face…”
“Hm.” The damned monster pretended to think it through, to torture and tear a reaction out of the oh-so immovable Adeptus.
Zhongli dug his heels into his back when his lover swirled around his clit once more, and sobbed when he finally swiped his tongue into his cunt.
His lover had told him before; Zhongli tasted like delectable fruits, with the right amounts of tangy and sweet. His tongue fucked so deeply into his pussy that Zhongli could feel it all the way up to his abdomen.
Zhongli screwed his eyes shut as he was brought to an earth-shattering orgasm. Being held so high up like this, Zhongli felt as though he was but a small bird soaring through the blue skies of bliss.
Forget that this was all a dream. Forget that Morax had never once had a lover in his many, many millennia of living.
Priori.)
Morax chalked it up to simple curiosity when he lifted the torn garments to his face. A forked tongue flicked out to taste his spend. He relished that wonder of saccharine.
As if intoxicated, Morax smothered his face against it, taking in every sniff and scent. His cheeks burned crimson with embarrassment at his actions. It must reek of his insides now, but Morax. Couldn’t. Stop.
Because it wasn't enough. His mind cried. It will never be enough.
The realization washed over him like high, frigid tides; his premature orgasm had paled in comparison to the grand scale of his dreams. Now that Morax had a taste of fantasy, he yearned for more.
He mewled when his thighs rubbed together of its own accord. His fingers twitched with anticipation as it slid sensually down the plains of his tummy.
More, more, more—
In a fit of desperation, Morax summoned Vortex Vanquisher from the depths of the earth. It pulsed briefly with the aura of Geo in his hold, prepared to part his sea of enemies with the vow of bloodshed.
A shame. Morax wanted nothing to do with it unless it involved riding his spear of stone until it became wet with his juices.
Ignoring the humiliation that weighed on his back, Morax placed the spear between his knees. Its elegant body laid innocently on the ground, oblivious as to what it was about to face.
Lifting upwards. Closer, and closer. The blood that bled from his lower lip. Knuckles that become white.
“Go on, ‘Li. Play with yourself for me. Just for my eyes…”
Zhongli gasped as his clit made contact with the spear’s biting surface. It sent a spark of pleasure coursing through his body.
Slowly, he humped his spear, ascending the pole to find that sweet, sweet spot that caressed his folds just right.
On Vortex Vanquisher’s body, raised decorative lines spiral from the hilt. Just above there was a slightly hooked part. Ornate in detail, classically made to massage his erect nub into oblivion.
Zhongli’s body stilled as he reached that desired spot, tossing his head back as he instinctively clamped down on the polearm.
So, so good.
If Zhongli were to be dewy-eyed, he could pretend he wasn’t pleasuring himself in a dilapidated cave. Instead, he would lay dutifully in his diligently-prepared nest, spreading his legs wide open as his lover takes him until the moon came and went.
Zhongli would nuzzle and nip his mate’s neck, surrounded by his addicting scent, their organized clutch created from their coupling.
The being of his dreams would whisper lovely praises into his ears, wondering how long he could keep the stars in Zhongli’s eyes alight.
“Yes… you got it. You’ve got it, lyubov.” His lover encouraged. A ghost of a kiss pressed against the pink shell of his ear.
It was different from the praises his followers would tell him; a lot more carnal. Passion flooded his tone, so emotional and human in nature it would make Zhongli speechless.
“Good boy. Take it easy for a while, ‘Li. You’ve done so much. What I’d do for the burden my beautiful wife carries to disappear.”
Zhongli massaged his clit with the curved bit, canting his hips back and forth, back and forth. His tongue stuck out from concentration, eyes closed to allow his imagination to roam free.
I want it, I want it… I want you to be my mate for life. I want to bear your children.
He reminisced of the lovely dream he woke up from. Zhongli moaned, thinking of family; domesticity.
May I be selfish for once? I do not wish to forget you. I do not want to lose you like the others. I cannot bear the thoughts of losing others as wonderful as you.
Zhongli didn’t even know who he fantasized of, or if this idealistic being truly exists. But it couldn’t hurt to hope, even if he had knowingly set himself up for heartbreak in the end.
“Be as selfish as you want, lyubov. You’ve let go so much, but not this time. I will be with you for as long as you want me.”
A teardrop fell to the cave floor. A culmination of such positive emotions brought Zhongli to tears, moving past dreams and into the present.
Ah. So far gone.
A gush of slick leaked from his loosened hole. Zhongli rode out his orgasm on his polearm until his vision danced between clarity and darkness.
Whatever he repeatedly murmured into the air, he couldn’t recall. The only thing that resonated to him was the warmth in his chest. He clutched at his robes, where it glowed golden beneath the cloth.
It… hurt. A primordial being like him wasn’t built to withstand such powerful waves of emotion. To experience it once and never again was the most cruel form of withdrawal.
A familiar sense of dread began to sink into his subconscious.
Zh— Morax didn’t understand why he succumbed to this… this weakness. He didn’t know why he desperately yearned for the creature to come and comfort him while the storm passed.
Foolish, foolish, foolish.
“Zhongli” no longer existed during the Age of Archons. Morax had abandoned that namesake with the parting of his dearest friend, and that chapter of his life will remain forever closed.
Vortex Vanquisher returned to the grounds where it came from. Morax recollected his composure, steadily breathing in the musk of his sex.
Morax reminded himself of what was real: There was the persisting threat of Qingce’s power seeping ever closer to the civilization Morax sought to protect. There was still raging conflict happening overseas in regions that have no Archon to turn to.
The world won’t stop revolving for his sake. Morax couldn’t afford to lie back and act greedy. Not now. Not in a hundred years, a millenia, or a lifetime.
(There existed no midnight lover to whisk him away from the horrors of war.)
—-
A foreign, youthful officer is seated by the window inside Liuli Pavillion, enjoying his second sip of complimentary tea with precise etiquette. He seems at peace, as if to believe he was the biggest person in the room.
At the sound of his arrival, the stranger’s eyes flicker towards him. Those dull and lifeless, yet exquisitely deep sea eyes; it compliments the Hydro vision on his belt. His face is chiseled in some parts, round in others. The speckling of dots are recognizable even from a Li away.
They are two different people on the surface, but fundamentally identical beings in Morax’s recollection.
No longer a god burdened by war, Zhongli stops in his tracks. His stone heart beats heavily in his chest. A fantasy rings true.
“It’s you.”
The officer’s eyebrows raise as he dabs a napkin above the cupid’s bow of his lips. “Yes? Oh, you must be who I’m waiting for: Zhongli-xiansheng of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”
Zhongli heaves a shaky sigh, watching the man rise from his chair. Shorter than him in height, larger than him in presence. “You would be correct.”
He lowers his head in a bow. In his periphery, the mortal grins. It is business-like, and done more so to keep face than to make a certain adeptus happy. Still, Zhongli fights to keep his expression neutral.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gongzi-xiansheng.”
—-