How to Secure Yourself a Malewife in Four Easy Steps

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33585661.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Category: M/M
Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
Relationship: Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact)
Characters: Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact)
Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Manipulative Relationship, Emotional
Manipulation, Top Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Top Zhongli/Bottom
Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact), Manipulative Zhongli (Genshin
Impact), Zhongli Being an Asshole (Genshin Impact),
Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Omega
Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact), Bitching, this is real dark you guys,
seriously heed the tags, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Possessive
Zhongli (Genshin Impact), Anal Fingering, Drugged Sex, Non-
Consensual Drug Use, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, just
the tip at least for chapter 1, It Gets Worse, Creampie, Breeding Kink,
Masturbation, Rape, implied eventual mpreg, Non-Consensual Bondage,
non-consensual impregnation, Begging, Tartaglia starts off as alpha and
gets bitched, Cervix Penetration, Double Penetration, Multiple Orgasms,
Zhongli Has Two Dragon Penises (Genshin Impact), but only in the last
bit of chapter 2, Gaslighting, Mindbreak
Language: English
Series: Part 3 of bgtea's spiteful possessive dragon!Zhong nc-17 hour
Collections: Fossil's Read Again Later Archive, Rho tries to read, ZhongChi dark fic
recs, OAB, zhongchi fic recs, Fictional treasure trove, All time favourites
Stats: Published: 2021-08-30 Completed: 2021-09-12 Words: 14,903 Chapters:
2/2
 How to Secure Yourself a Malewife in Four Easy Steps
by Bgtea

Summary

The more time he spends with Childe, the more Zhongli finds himself enraptured by the
young man. Not like that’s a hard thing to do. Anybody with a pair of functioning eyes can
see that the Cryo Archon’s Vanguard is a beauty with his auburn hair and large blue eyes,
both striking against pale Snezhnayan skin. Coupled with his sweet, heart-shaped face, his
high cheekbones, and his soft, pretty lips, the young man looks more like the noble youth
referenced by his code name than a bloodthirsty Harbinger.

It is a downright shame that he is an alpha. Surely, with those features and that temperament,
Master Childe is much more suited to be an omegan beauty.

Luckily, Zhongli knows just the trick to solve this...little alpha problem.
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

THIS IS A DEAD DOVE FIC! Like, I'm not messing around here with the tags. Please
for the love of god read them. It goes without saying but if this is not your thing, then
don't click into it. Save yourself from getting triggered.

Also, disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction written for shits and giggles and to
titillate. I do not endorse in any way, shape, or form, any of Zhongli's behaviour IRL.

If you're here for a wank and a good time, welcome! Come right on in! :D

(Mind the unbeta-edness; editing will be an ongoing thing.)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There have only been twice in the six thousand years of being alive where Rex Lapis Morax,
Prime Adeptus, The Great Warrior God, God of Commerce and Trade, Alpha of Alphas, has
felt his dragon self become…intrigued upon meeting someone. The first occurred exactly
four thousand years prior when the little omega Goddess of Dust had approached him with a
gift.

“Rule with me,” she had said, her smile bright and sweet as she presented him her dumbbell.
But her grey eyes were confident and unwavering. Ambitious. “With my brains and your
brawns, think of the people we can protect. Think of the nation we can raise! We will be
unstoppable together!”

Standing across from her in the grassy plains with a spear in hand still dripping with the
viscera of a freshly slain serpent god, Morax had felt his heart give a mighty flip. Perhaps it
was this uncharacteristic sensation that had stilled his hand from cutting her down like he
would have any other god foolish enough to approach him. And the more he had listened to
her proposal the more his interest had been piqued.

His inner dragon, in particular, had found her fascinating. So fascinating, that he found his
eyes automatically drawn to her whenever she had stepped foot into any space he had
occupied. Like a moth drawn to a bright flame, he would flit towards her, nosing after the
delicate, sweet scent of glaze lily that clung to her skin, and only when he was by her side, so
close that he could feel her warmth against his arm, that his instincts would calm, the rumbles
of discontent from his inner dragon finally relaxing into low, lazy purrs.

But Morax, being two thousand years young, had been oblivious; He had been more rock
than man, and he had brushed aside the soothing satisfaction the Goddess had brought to his
soul as nothing more than the feeling of finally finding an ally whom he could trust. It was
not until she had lain in his arms, her breathing strained from the sword impaled through her
chest as golden blood flowed and flowed and flowed from her open wounds that he had
realized just how deep his affections had run.

"It seems that our journey together has come to an end. As for that stone dumbbell, forget
about it, would you?"

As the last of her form dissipated into dust, only had Morax understood, for the first time in
his life, the true meaning of heartbreak.

Thousands of years had passed since that fateful day. Around him, cities grew and fell,
leaders and gods, friends and foes alike came and gone. Only Morax remained absolute,
eternal, and sturdy like bedrock. The people he ruled flourished as did the city he had
founded. Through it all, Guizhong’s dumbbell remained by his side, silent and cold as the
stone tablet that marked her grave.

Thousands of years passed and Rex Lapis Morax had never felt that same stirring in his
spirits again. Infatuation, he had come to know it as, slowly turned to affection, then love,
desperate, hungry, all-encompassing love.

Since his time with Guizhong, countless omega beauties had thrown themselves at him in
hopes of being his empress; countless doe-eyed, sweet-faced mortals and immortals alike had
parted their thighs for him, had willingly given up their virginities for him, and countless
more nights he had derived his pleasure buried into a soft, wet cunt, or a hot, tight ass as his
bed partner screamed and screamed in ecstasy, but nothing had triggered that same sort of
feeling he had experienced in that field of glaze lilies so long ago.

Hopeless. He had thought it hopeless for him to find another person who was so thoroughly
suited to him, who had set his inner dragon so at peace. There was one person and she was
gone, gone, gone –

And then, on one sunny afternoon, his eyes caught sight of a blue-eyed, red-haired young
man looking back at him, a foreigner with pale skin, unlike the sun-kissed golden tone that
marked his people. The young man’s smile was bright and sweet but his eyes confident,
unwavering, ambitious and –

His heart does a mighty flip.

Oh.

Oh.

Why, hello, there.

Tartaglia, code name Childe. Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. Vanguard of the Cryo Archon.
Youngest amongst Snezhnaya’s elite lieutenants but amongst the most dangerous. Perhaps
that is why he is sent on a secret mission to steal the Geo Archon’s gnosis.
How quaint.

Zhongli, as he calls himself now, logically knows that the young man seated before him is
dangerous, but all his dragon self registers, all he can think of is –

Mine.

Mine, mine, mine, mine!

Dark blue eyes look up underneath long, sweeping lashes and the bright, sweet smile Zhongli
so loves blossoms across the young man’s face. “Mister Zhongli?” Childe murmurs, “Is
something the matter?”

Zhongli bites back the grimace at the formal address – Mister Zhongli – and the wrongness
from the spicy, musky wood scent of amber, cinnamon, and pine that wafts up his sensitive
nose.

“Ah, it appears I find myself lost in my thought. Do forgive me,” Zhongli says instead,
shaking his head. “Where was I?”

Soft, pink lips curve up even more, and Zhongli’s eyes dart to the twin dimples at the side of
his mouth. Adorable. “You were just about to teach me how to use these chopsticks!” Childe
holds up said utensils. The grip is poor but Zhongli’s attention is on the deceptively delicate
digits, ungloved for once. They’re pale and pretty for a hand that had shed the blood of
thousands. “You know, I still think you should let me eat with forks instead. We’re going to
be sitting here for hours at the rate of my progress.”

Never mind for hours, I will stay by your side forever if you will have me, his inner dragon
rumbles in his mind.

“Liyue’s delicacies are best enjoyed through the use of chopsticks,” Zhongli answers,
brushing aside his other hunger. “And I am more than happy to guide you on your journey at
becoming proficient with them. Now, if you don’t mind –”

He leans over and corrects Childe’s grip, his hand adjusting the other’s fingers and hold so
that the chopsticks are more secured. For such pretty hands and fingers, Zhongli is almost
surprised to find callouses on them, but he finds he doesn’t mind. They are a sign of weapons
mastered, of countless hours of training, of dedication and strength and ambition.

Good-natured and kind yet has the capacity for steel and ruthlessness. Zhongli had been
drawn to Guizhong for exhibiting such dichotomy once. It is no surprise that he finds himself
similarly attracted to Master Childe for showing similar characteristics.

“There.” Zhongli draws back. Though the touch is fleeting, his inner dragon purrs at the
contact. “Please try again.”

The dumpling Childe attempts to grab, unfortunately, slips out of his grip once again, and
Childe’s lips twist into a pout. “Mister Zhongli! It isn’t working. Surely, you have more
important things to do than to watch me fail at eating!”
Zhongli coughs into his fist, hiding his chuckles. Adorable. “No matter. Let us try again.
Please, do not be concerned about wasting my time. I am in no rush.”

For Childe, Zhongli has all the time in the world.

The more time he spends with Childe, the more Zhongli finds himself enraptured by the
young man. Not like that’s a hard thing to do. Anybody with a pair of functioning eyes can
see that the Cryo Archon’s Vanguard is a beauty with his auburn hair and large blue eyes,
both striking against pale Snezhnayan skin. Coupled with his sweet, heart-shaped face, his
high cheekbones, and his soft, pretty lips, the young man looks more like the noble youth
referenced by his code name than a bloodthirsty Harbinger. His thin frame, small waist, flat
tummy, and long, shapely legs also do not help in painting him as a particularly intimidating
figure. And the carefree way he laughs and galivants throughout Liyue Harbour, his
enthusiasm infectious as he flits about from one merchant stall to the next, gives those
watching an impression of a particularly excitable puppy.

Or a fox, going by his colouring. A happy, adorable, young fox.

It is a downright shame that he is an alpha. If there is one flaw Zhongli can spot in this little
mortal, it is that. Surely, with those features and that temperament, Master Childe is much
more suited to be an omegan beauty.

Just imagine if he was an omega. He’d be someone the dragon can hold on to and protect.
Someone the dragon can lay his claims on. How pretty the mortal would look in Morax’s
arms, with Morax’s large hand around his delicate waist and Morax’s teeth mark displayed
prominently on his slender neck. How perfect the mortal would be, smelling like he belongs
to Morax and Morax alone. How wonderful he would sound when pressed against a bed of
silk, those long legs wrapped around Morax’s hips, toes curling as he sobs every time Morax
ruts into that tight little hole, his girth stretching him to gaping, stretching him so that his
insides are moulded to Morax’s shape to the point where none other can possibly satisfy him
again. And then, only after he has taken Morax’s knot and filled to the brim with his seed will
Morax finally allow him to come –

“Mister Zhongli, look! I didn’t know they have snow cones here!” Childe’s excitement cuts
through the dragon’s hunger, allowing Zhongli to resurface. “Finally, a bit of cold! This is the
first bit of snow I have experienced since Snezhnaya!” He takes a big bite out of his snow
cone and sighs happily. “Ah, just like home! I do hope everyone is doing well, including her
Majesty. I do miss everyone so.”

Zhongli’s mood promptly sours.

Here’s another notable flaw: Childe’s annoying devotion to the Cryo Archon.

“I am sure that they are all safe and sound…including your archon,” comes Zhongli’s
placating response even if it rankles him to even have to speak about another deity.

“I suppose you’re right,” Childe laughs. “My family is well taken care of and her Majesty is
strong enough to withstand anything. She’s a true warrior and probably does not need me to
worry after her!”

No, she most definitely does not, the dragon growls out, hackles raised. Spare no thought on
that weak little archon and only think of me.

Outwardly, Zhongli gives Childe a diplomatic nod. Then, he swiftly changes topics. “I hadn’t
realized you were looking for cold desserts. Liyue has a fine selection. I would be pleased to
show them to you.”

Placing a hand on the small of Childe’s back – and admiring, for a split second, just how
much space his hand takes up against Childe’s slim back – he guides him away towards the
string of restaurants that will no doubt please the young man, but at the back of his mind, his
thoughts are churning for a possible solution to those little problems.

The solution to fixing both of Childe’s flaws comes to him while he is reorganizing his hoard
in Taishan Mansion one evening.

“Hm, what’s this?” he asks, bending over to pick up a non-descript box that had fallen into
some forgotten corner who knows when. He blows the dust off of it, pulls a silk handkerchief
from his pocket and wipes the rest of the grime off.

Under all the accumulated dust and grit, fine, intricate patterns etched in gold shine through.
It takes a few more wipes before Zhongli recognizes the symbols on the box for what they
are.

A crest from an old ally long passed, an omega goddess of fertility who had perished right
after the Archon War when he had finally won a seat of the Seven.

“Please take this rare and delicate tea as the symbol of my sincere congratulations for
ascending into your position as Archon,” she had said. Though her tone was soft and demure,
her eyes were calculating. “This tea boosts strength and power in alphas, sharpening their
instinct and making them unstoppable in battle. One cup is enough to invigorate alphas for a
whole day. I gift this to you, my liege, so that you may continue to reign supreme in your
battles.”

It hadn’t taken much for Morax to discover that this tea, though it did everything that was
claimed and more, was a beverage meant to induce alpha heat in adepti. Worse still, the
Goddess had plotted to conveniently situate herself near Morax in hopes of entrapping him in
an alpha-omega bond.

Of all the bonds that exist in Teyvat, whether blood-sworn oaths of loyalty, bonds of
friendship, or deep familial ties, only an alpha-omega bond is deemed sacrosanct by Celestia.
Morax would have been bound to the Goddess and no one would have dared intervened, not
without angering Celestia.

He had sealed the Goddess in the Guyun Stone Forest for her transgression, had slain all of
her co-conspirators, and had asked his adepti researchers to research further into this product.
After spending a small eternity studying it, they had discovered that the tea possessed another
unique property: its potential to induce fertility amongst mortals even in the most impossible
cases.

“Given enough doses over a long stretch of time, the tea can transform even beta and alpha
mortals into fertile omegas,” Morax’s chief adeptus scholar had advised. “This process can
further be accelerated by exposing the mortal to an alpha’s touch, scent and essence.
However, this process, which changes the very physical nature of the drinker, can take a huge
toll on them, potentially costing them their lives. It would take an extraordinary individual to
survive the process.”

“Extraordinary individuals?”

“Yes, my liege. Individuals such as Vision bearers, for example, or anyone else blessed by the
gods.”

“I see,” Morax had responded, eyeing the small mountain of tea the Goddess had left behind.
“What do you recommend we do with this?”

“Due to the potential dangers of this tea, it is best that we destroy it lest it falls into the
wrong hands and be used for nefarious purposes.”

Looking at the box in his hand, it looks like that it is the last of its kind in existence, having
managed to avoid being destroyed like the rest of the Goddess’ stash.

Zhongli smiles. What a fortuitous find.

Zhongli’s solution is a simple one.

Childe had been born an alpha when he was better suited to be an omega. Zhongli has the
means to fix this, and so he shall. The fact that Zhongli managed to find the necessary tools
to get this job done against impossible odds is, as far as he’s concerned, a divine sign from
Celestia herself that his actions are blessed.

And if it so happens that Zhongli is nearby when Childe’s heat strikes, and if it so happens
that Zhongli himself knots the boy and claims him, binding him to his side so that he can
never escape the dragon’s grasp, then the circumstance is even more fortuitous. After all,
Zhongli is hardly going to let a poor omega suffer through their first heat alone, let alone be
placed in a vulnerable position to be claimed by someone filthy and unworthy. Zhongli is
only looking out after the boy’s best interests.

As for the Tsaritsa, she might be angry that Morax’s claim on her Harbinger had effectively
superseded the flimsy oath of loyalty sworn to her. There is not much she’d be able to do to
break the bond; an alpha-omega bond is sacrosanct, after all, and unless she wants to draw
Celestia’s attention to her and her little revolution, the most she could do is grit her teeth and
bear it.

She might also view his actions as a breach of their contract, but as Zhongli recalls, the
contract provides that Signora will be the one testing Liyue, not Tartaglia. The fact that the
Eight Harbinger had chosen to sublet her assignment to her junior technically falls outside of
the contract.

Odds are, the Tsaritsa would likely fuss and cause some minor troubles for him and Liyue,
but that’s a small price to pay for gaining such a grand prize. Morax is more than happy to
order his borders shut to Snezhnaya for a little while until the Cryo Archon’s fit is over. It
will also give him and Childe their much needed peace and quiet as they spend their
honeymoon in marital bliss.

Zhongli had lost his opportunity to bond with his mate once. He will not watch this
opportunity slip by a second time.

He’s not concerned about Childe’s reaction. Sure, the boy might be a little upset over the
sudden change sprung on him, but he’ll come around when he realizes the power he now
wields as Empress. As Prime Adeptus and an Archon, Zhongli is also more than happy to
accelerate his progress in his path to adeptihood towards enlightenment. Immortality, wealth,
and unfathomable power make perfect engagement presents that his lovely warrior bride
would sure love.

“Mister Zhongli! Thank you for having me for dinner and for treating me to tea brewed by
your expert hands! You sure are spoiling me!”

“It is my pleasure, Master Childe,” Zhongli murmurs, the gentle pleasant smile stretches a
little wider as his pretty bride-to-be gulps down his cup. “I hope that I will have many more
opportunities to spoil you in the future.”

For all of Childe’s zealousness for battles, the young man also has a surprising domestic side
to him, and it is that domestic side Zhongli finds himself taking advantage of to establish a
routine.

It is all too easy to set Tuesdays and Thursdays tea times at Zhongli’s home under the guise
of more cultural exchange. All too easy to feed his bride his medicine, one cup at a time,
medicine that may or may not be laced with his adeptal energy as well.

Two weeks into their arrangement, he starts introducing small touches to their interactions.

It starts with little, fleeting things – a brush of a hand against shoulders, the hand on the small
of the back pressing a second longer than usual, hands gripping against Master Childe’s a
little tighter as he corrects his hold on his chopsticks for the umpteenth time.

Master Childe does not notice, or if he does, he doesn’t react.

Zhongli escalates.

The brush against the shoulders becomes longer, more lingering, with fingers trailing down to
the biceps to catch the other’s attention on a crowded street or in a loud restaurant. The hand
on the back stays for even longer with fingers splayed possessively to capture more surface
area. Zhongli also presses closer whenever he leans over to whisper tidbits about Liyue’s
history, his head turning towards Childe just so for his breath to fan across the side of his
neck, his voice low and soothing.

Childe swallows hard whenever he does that, followed by flushing a pretty pink. Zhongli
continues until the other is used to his touch, his presence, his closeness.

Then, he escalates.

Touches to the shoulders, biceps, elbows, hands, become commonplace as well as caresses
along the back, stroking along the spine and ending at the dip right above the tailbone. A
month and a half in, Zhongli introduces the habit of touching the other’s neck, using the
excuse of fixing the other’s collar and scarf. At first, he keeps his touch perfunctory but as
with everything else, he gradually lets his touch grow bolder to the point of being able to trail
his ungloved fingers along the patch of delicate skin over which sits the other’s scent gland.

If he presses wisps of his adeptal energy there, gently nudging Childe’s body to produce a
sweeter, more omegan scent, then none needs to know except him.

And sweeter Childe’s scent does become. The sharpness of his musky, spicy scent slowly
gives way to something more neutral before developing an undertone of sweet caramel that
grows and grows by day. It takes everything in Zhongli to not press his nose up against the
scent gland and inhale deeply.

His little would-be bride, his future mate, his Empress is slowly blossoming into a beautiful
omega.

But not soon enough. Not soon enough for Zhongli who wants it all.

Zhongli escalates.

The next thing he introduces to Childe is his scent.

As much as he would love to envelope the other with his alpha pheromones, social
convention dictates that such actions are only reserved for lovers, and the last thing Zhongli
wants is for Childe to catch on to what he’s doing too soon.

So, Zhongli opts for more…subtlety.

Every time he touches Childe, he’d leave a hint of his alpha musk behind, nothing so obvious
as to drown out Childe’s natural alpha spice, but rather, pressing pinpricks of scent at every
point of contact on the young man. He’d leave just a hint on the other’s back, shoulders,
gloved hands, scarf, the cuff of his sleeves, on and on it goes, dabbing his scent on delicately
and sparingly like he would cologne.

With every application, he would watch carefully for Master Childe’s response.

At first, the young man would wrinkle his nose slightly, his brows furrowing at the foreign
scent. But, like with the touches, he quickly adapts to his new normal and stops reacting.
Zhongli smiles.

The next set of applications, Zhongli makes sure to smear it on Childe’s pale skin. A swipe of
scent along delicate fingers whenever the gloves are off, a trail of musk on the young man’s
forearms, a brush against his slender neck, particularly the patch of skin where his scent
gland lays, and, perhaps his greatest achievement to date, a generous dab right at the corner
of his lips.

Zhongli had managed the latter by pretending to wipe away a grain of rice from the corner of
his lips. How far he had come for Childe to accept his touch without batting an eye, instead,
leaning over in docile submission, waiting for Zhongli to calmly clean him up. The dragon in
him purrs at how wonderfully his lovely bride submits.

It is good for his wife to get used to exhibiting such behaviour. Zhongli fully expects the
boy’s subservience in the future when he’s seated upon Zhongli’s lap, long legs straddling his
hips while his tight little clutch warms Zhongli’s cock for hours without complaint. He
expects his little wife to accept his existence as Morax’s broodmare where his stomach is
always swollen with child and his tits heavy with milk. And even then, Zhongli expects the
boy to get on all fours and present his used pussy to satiate Zhongli’s hunger whenever the
god so desires.

He sees his efforts pay back in dividends. Within a month of routinely leaving his scent on
the other’s body, Childe’s demeanour seems to…gentle around Zhongli, becoming unguarded
and affectionate. He would arch into Zhongli’s touch like a cat silently demanding for more
pets whenever Zhongli so much as reach towards him, and he would tuck himself close to
Zhongli’s side whenever they are out in public together, his sweetened smell mingling
deliciously with Zhongli’s own alpha musk.

Best of all, his actions seem entirely instinctual. More than once, Zhongli caught Master
Childe pulling back a little, eyes dazed and sporting a confused frown on his face as he
physically tries to wrestle his professionalism back into place. But within ten minutes, the
boy would be pressed close to Zhongli’s side once again, right where he belongs.

Very good. His plan is progressing wonderfully. Childe’s transformation is progressing

wonderfully.

Time for Zhongli to escalate even further.

The last component needed to accelerate Childe’s…cure is essence. Although Rex Lapis’
advisors had never defined what this term means, in the adeptal art, essence has been used
broadly to include anything that carries strong traces of his power, including his adeptal
energy or blood.

The changes in his wife have certainly accelerated with the adeptal energy that Zhongli fed to
him, making him reach just the cusp of a full-blown transformation. But something is
missing; something is missing to give that one last little nudge that will cement the changes
to Childe’s body. Something is missing to get him to the point of no return.
Zhongli needs to introduce something more potent to the equation.

“Mister Zhongli, I can’t possibly have another bite to eat,” Master Childe protests as Zhongli
puts down a plate of fresh fruits before him. “You’ve practically served me a five-course
meal! I’m so full I can barely move!”

Zhongli finishes lighting the incense and smiles his patient smile. “I cannot possibly leave a
dear friend hungry, especially with all the times you’ve humoured my requests to visit me for
cultural exchanges.”

Master Childe laughs and Zhongli takes the second to savour the lovely sound. “I find it
incredibly hard to believe that anybody would leave your home hungry. You have always
taken such good care of me! I always feel so at home here!”

Of course. It’s only his right as the future husband. Nothing but the best care for his little
empress wife.

Zhongli lights another incense and lets the delicate, floral scent of silkflowers slowly fan
across the dining room. From the corner of his eyes, Zhongli sees Master Childe breathe out a
sigh, his shoulders dropping as tension practically bleeds out of him.

Zhongli keeps his smile pleasant. “I have been meaning to ask, how are you finding your stay
in Liyue now that you have spent over half a year here? I hope Liyue Harbour has treated you
well.”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s beautiful here,” Childe admits, shaking his head a little. “Everything is so
lively and colourful! And the food is amazing! I don’t think I’d be able to try everything even
if I were to stay here for a hundred years!”

“Indeed. Liyue is well-known for the breadth of its culinary diversity. Did you know that in
addition to the two prominent styles of cuisine – Li-style and Yue-style – there are a variety
of lesser-known styles, including those native to Qingce, for example, and other northern
regions?”

Zhongli lets himself ramble on and on about the history of cuisine in Liyue, his tone low and
even. Soothing. The longer he speaks, the stronger the smell of silkflower permeates the
room and the more Childe seems to…droop further and further in his chair. Zhongli
continues to speak even as Childe’s dark blue eyes grow hazier and hazier before they flutter
shut and his head slumps to the side.

“Master Childe?” Zhongli asks. He waits a few seconds.

No response. Master Childe remains fast asleep.

Zhongli gets up from his seat and heads towards the boy, his footsteps smooth and unhurried.
He stops when he reaches the other, and he spends a few seconds to just…watch. He watches
the way the young Harbinger’s chest rise and fall with every deep, easy breath, the way how
in slumber, his face looks young and sweet, the way those long lashes brush against rosy
cheeks, and the soft, silky tendrils of hair sweep against his nape and his jawline.
His wife is beautiful and Zhongli can’t wait to lay claims on the boy.

With careful hands, he wraps an arm around the other’s shoulders and tucks the other under
the knees. He hoists the other up from his seat in a bridal carry, adjusting his hold so that
Master Childe’s head rests more comfortably against his chest. With that same, smooth,
unhurried pace, he takes his prize up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

Childe remains deep asleep, his breaths heavy and even.

He remains deep asleep even as Zhongli lays him out across golden silk sheets. He remains
as is while Zhongli slowly, carefully unbuttons his outfit, first his shirt, then the pants. He
continues to remain dead to the world as Zhongli peels the uniform off of him with reverent
hands, freeing his arms and legs from the grey clothing until all of that pale skin is revealed
save for the dark shorts covering the last of his modesty.

His smile grows into a smirk. Nothing but a flimsy barrier against Zhongli’s growing hunger.

The boxers peel off as easily as the rest of the clothes, the waistband catching only slightly at
the mound of Childe’s ass. Nothing but an (impatient) tug of the cloth to get the underwear
sliding down his legs and then, off completely.

Finally, Zhongli lets himself watch. Zhongli lets his eyes drink in the sight of his defenceless
wife before him, lets himself admire the expanse of silvery scars that criss-cross his slender
body. They only serve to enhance his loveliness since they are proof of the strength coursing
through his veins. They are proof that the young man will have the strength to bear the trials
to follow.

Then, Zhongli lets his gaze trace along the young man’s slender neck. His eyes are drawn
down to strong shoulders and delicate clavicles, to firm pectorals and cute, dusty pink nipples
that are starting to bud in the cold air. His eyes travel even further down at the impressive set
of abs, the small waist, and the skinny hips.

His gaze stops at the soft cock nestled in a thatch of auburn hair – the size of which is
something any alpha would be proud of – before moving along to following those long, toned
legs. Gorgeous long legs he had dreamed wrapped around his hips for so long.

Zhongli sighs. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Sublime. His wife truly is something else, as expected.

Through it all, Childe remains deep asleep.

Zhongli is not surprised. Between the sleeping draught in the food and then, the knock-out
gas from the incense, the young man will likely remain comatose until the next morning.

Zhongli would be long done by then.

He divests himself of his clothes with the same meticulous care he took stripping Childe,
making sure everything is neatly folded and placed on a nearby chair before he makes his
way to the bed. He bites back a sigh as he finally lets his hand make contact with that pale
skin, spreading out his fingers against the supple flesh of the firm chest.
So warm and so, so soft.

He trails his hand down to Childe’s nipples and lets his thumb circle the tantalizing nub,
rolling against his finger pad in tight circles until it hardens and the skin turns an attractive
pink. Under his palm, he can feel Childe’s heartbeat increasing and his breath hitches, no
doubt the beginnings of pleasure making its way into his unconscious mind. A quick glance
down shows the young man’s cock slowly starting to fill out.

Zhongli chuckles quietly. It appears his wife enjoys having his tits played. Well, if that’s the
case…

He repeats his ministration with the other nipple, slowly and methodically working it into a
stiff peak. His efforts earn him more hitched breaths leaving through soft, parted lips as well
as a sweet, pink flush blossoming across Childe’s cheeks and chest.

Satisfied with the response, he lets his hands slide down along the length of the sleeping
man’s body, lets himself savour the way those delicious, lean muscles give under his touch.
He traces down the abs, his fingers trailing along those jutting hip bones, and ignores the
risen, pink cock entirely in favour of parting those creamy thighs. He hooks his hands under
the knees and, hoisting Childe’s lower body up, pushes the legs back and back until those
knees are pressed against the mattress and the boy’s ass is canted up.

Zhongli licks his lips. My, my, such a deliciously lewd position. It grants Zhongli the perfect
view of his wife’s tight furl between those pert cheeks. The little ring of muscle is clenched
shut and it’s not lost on Zhongli that this is probably the tightest he’ll ever see of that little
hole. Once Zhongli is done fucking into that pussy and ruining it with his knot, the boy will
have a hard time keeping it from gaping open no matter how hard he tries to clench down.

Zhongli groans and frees up one of his hands so that he can work his neglected erection, eyes
trained on all that lovely skin and that tight cunt. Fuck, the things he will do to this boy. He
won’t let Childe leave the bed for an entire month. He will keep the young man on his cock
the entire time, fucked too stupid to protest or to say anything except his mewls of, “alpha –
ah – alpha!” And even then, he will continue to fuck up into that pliant body with hungry
bucks of his hips, his girth prying those walls open as the tip of his cock fucks so deep that
his wife will feel him all the way to his womb –

He comes with a grunt, and jets of white splatter liberally all over Childe’s ass, back of his
thighs and his taint. Zhongli has to take a few seconds to catch his breath and steady his
thrumming heartbeat, at least until electric pleasure stops dancing across sensitive nerves and
he can see straight again.

He releases a deep-seated sigh of utter satisfaction. How desperately he needed that release.
He hadn’t even realize just how pent up he had been from playing his little game of cat and
mouse.

When his eyes can focus again, the sight that greets him is a mesmerizing one – rivers of his
seed slowly trail across lily white skin, threatening to drip down and stain the silk sheets
below, but Zhongli does not care. This is proof of his claim on the boy, and Zhongli has to
bite back a growl of pure, unadulterated lust at the rush of hunger for more. The boy needs to
be drenched in Rex Lapis’ claim so much so that no mortal, adepti or foreign god will ever
mistake him as belonging to anyone else but Rex Lapis Morax. The boy needs to be marked
all over.

And not just on the outside either.

Zhongli reaches over and catches a generous amount of his dripping cum with his finger,
coating the digit liberally in his own spent.

And then, slowly, carefully, he takes his coated finger and presses it into his wife’s little hole.

It takes a bit of effort to loosen the ring of muscle; Zhongli teases the rim with gentle strokes,
circling around the wrinkled skin to get the opening to unfurl before he can finally sink his
fingertip in. He plays with the little pouting mouth, dipping in and out while swirling his
finger around until the opening fully softens under his touch.

Then, he pulls out fully, gathers more of his cum with a few swipes of his finger, and repeats
the motion all over again, going deeper still and taking care to coat every inch of the inside of
that hot hole liberally with his spent. He fucks in slowly, methodically, taking his time to
work his finger in until finally, he’s able to just sink all the way to the third knuckle in a
smooth, hot glide.

Fuck. His boy is virgin tight. Zhongli can feel the way Childe’s walls are still clenching
around him, threatening to squeeze out the foreign intrusion despite all of Zhongli’s efforts.
His body is clearly unused to having anything touch him there and, oh, how the delicious
implication stokes the fire in Zhongli’s belly, feeding into greedy feelings of want that have
been simmering in the background this entire time. His wife. His sweet virginal boy wife,
untouched by no other man.

He’s almost tempted to send the Tsaritsa a thank you gift for sending such a delicious little
sacrificial offer.

Childe remains fast asleep, though a fine sheen of sweat has since developed over his flushed
face. His cock has plumped up, standing at half-mast.

Zhongli chuckles. His wife clearly likes his ministrations and who is Zhongli to deny the boy
anything?

The second finger he manages to work next to the first is easier, the glide aided by all that
slick cum. Zhongli pumps the digits in deeper than before, rubbing, stroking, caressing his
insides, and when fully inside, splitting his fingers into a cruel V to force apart those
fluttering walls. Childe is making little sounds in answer – soft whines and breathy little
keens while his cock swells even more, pre dripping down the length of his shaft. The room
is starting to smell like sex mixed with the ever-present smell of silkflower incense and
Zhongli – Zhongli can’t help but want –

It’s by sheer coincidence that in the next thrust in, the tips of his fingers brush against
something warm and spongy, but the reaction this gesture elicits is nothing short of being
spectacular. Childe’s limbs jerk like he’s been electrocuted, and it’s swiftly followed by the
neediest, most delicious-sounding moan escaping from his sweet mouth, the neediest that
Zhongli has ever heard a mortal produce in his thousands of years of being alive, and Zhongli
feels his mouth go completely dry as his cock goes rock hard.

Oh, sweet Celestia. He didn't know his wife can sing like this.

He wastes no time and fucks his fingers back in, this time, faster, rougher, with each stroke
deliberately aiming for that sensitive little spot, pressing in hard and groaning at the filthy
wet squelches his movements make. Childe’s growing desperate moans only spur him on, as
with the way his boy is tossing his head side to side on the pillow, tendrils of red hair sticking
to his sweaty, flushed face, his mouth parted with trails of drool running down his jaw. Fuck,
he looks absolutely debauched and Zhongli wants to see him lose it, wants to see that last
thread of control snap –

He gets his wish. In the next deep, deep thrust, his wife gurgles, bucking his hips uselessly in
the air once, twice. His cock twitches violently before ropes of cum spews out of the length.
They drip down his shaft with the majority landing on his belly but some made it high up
onto his chest, splattering that pretty skin with more white.

The fire in Zhongli’s belly flares up into a raging inferno. Cursing, he pulls his fingers out
none too gently, ignoring the squelch or the soft whimpers from the sleeping boy. His hand
flies to his own cock, jerking at it in harsh tugs before gripping on to Childe’s waist, lining
the head against the softened opening and finally, finally pushes in.

He feels the mushroom head pop in, breaching that hot, wet tightness, forcing the wrinkled
rim so open until it becomes smooth and taut around his thick girth before pleasure slams into
him like a tidal wave. He comes, his hands tightening his grip around that lovely waist as he
unloads everything he has into that hole while trying his damndest to wrestle down his
dragon instinct to fuck the rest of his cock in, to take and take and take and fuck the life out of
Childe. His task is made all the harder when he feels just how that fluttering channel is
becoming hotter and wetter with every fresh burst of cum.

But now’s not the right time to fully claim the boy like that. It’s still too early. Everything
needs to be perfect when that happens. Zhongli needs to see Childe moaning around his cock,
needs to see him come at being forcefully impregnated, needs to see him surrender as
Zhongli bites the freshly minted little omega.

Later, he promises himself through gritted teeth, trying to console his inner ravenous dragon.
Later.

He does let out a disappointing groan when he finally pulls out, the gush of white flowing
from that open little mouth only making him feel slightly pacified. At least he had
accomplished what he had originally set out to do even if things got a bit carried away.

At least Childe remains deeply asleep, his breaths deep and even once again.

Zhongli leans over and presses a reverent kiss on the inside of those milky thighs before
settling Childe’s legs down. Then, he trots to the bathroom, returning with a bucket of clean
 water and a washcloth, and carefully wipes down Childe’s face and body. When he’s done,
Childe looks just like he did when Zhongli had first disrobed him – pristine once more.

Save for the cum that continues to leak from his ass. Zhongli did not clean that. Not yet.

The Geo Archon has one last thing he needs to do, after all.

He dips his finger into the pool of white and trails it over the patch of skin right below
Childe’s belly button. Using his spent like ink, he begins to trace out a symbol featuring
sweeping strokes and elegant curves, and as the drawing grows more and more elaborate, it
begins to glow a more luminescent gold.

After a few minutes, Zhongli leans back and admires his masterpiece. Spanning across
Childe’s abdomen is an intricate glowing tattoo in the same shade as cor lapis in the shape of
a phoenix with its wings spread out. But any adepti worth their salt will recognize this image
for what it is.

A spell. Something that will not only ease Childe’s pain as his body undergoes the last stages
of transformation and starts to actively reject his alpha nature, but to also ensure that the
omegan traits will be developed nicely and quickly.

And that includes a strong, fertile womb that will carry an army of children.

With any luck, Zhongli will only need to wait one more week before he can enjoy the fruits
of his labour.

He can’t wait for when that time comes.

Chapter End Notes

And now, we wait for Part 2 8DDDDD

Thank you for reading this super problematic fic! XD

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Ooh boy, this chapter gets raunchy. Saddle up, bitches.

I'm going to insert my usual disclaimer here - this is a work of pure fiction meant to
shock and titillate; it does not represent the views of the author nor does it indicate the
author's support of the acts written in this piece of fiction being conducted in real life.
Just because I write two fictional bois banging each other in new and raunchy ways does
not mean I condone rape IRL (notwithstanding the fact that the stuff I write here is
physically and biologically impossible.) I feel like that should be obvious but we're in
2021 and apparently, common sense isn't so common anymore, so I guess I'm spelling it
out here explicitly. Practice safe and consensual sex, y'all. If this story doesn't jive with
you, then for the love of god, don't read it. Cultivate your own boundaries when
navigating the internet!

Also, this thing is unbetaed so expect edits happening sporadically.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The first thing Childe’s sleepy mind registers is that he’s surrounded by the most wonderful
scent. It’s an intoxicated mixture of spice, silkflowers and tea that reminds him of all the
good things like the warmth of a crackling fire, the cozy fullness after a particularly large and
satisfying meal, and the overwhelming sense of safety surrounded by friends and loved ones.
Humming a little in satisfaction, Childe buries his face in the pillow and breathes in the scent
with a sigh. The silky fabric under his cheek feels particularly soft and luxurious under his
cheek and it makes his body melt into the soft mattress some more.

Wait.

Silk fabric?

That can’t be right – the pillowcase back in his temporary rental is made of cotton.

Also, the mattress feels entirely too soft.

His eyes fly open and in the next second, he scrambles up so that he’s seated on the bed,
golden silk covers pooling on his lap.

What the fuck –

Everywhere he looks, he can see more fancy gold silks – the bedsheets and covers, the
banners hanging over his head in a shimmering canopy of ostentatious wealth, and the
decorative wall drapes against redwood walls, distinctly Liyuan in style and make.
This is so obviously not his cozy (if sparse) little apartment.

And yet…even sitting in this foreign bed in this foreign room, surrounded by foreign fineries,
those feelings of warmth and safety persist.

He glances down. At least he’s still wearing most of his Harbinger uniform, Vision and
Delusion secured to his person. The only things missing are his jacket, scarf, mask and boots,
most of which are sitting on the side table beside him, the clothes neatly folded. Something
tells him his boots are likewise stored nearby with care.

Huh. Okay. So, maybe that’s why his senses aren’t going off. It doesn’t appear like he’s in
any danger. There’s also something very familiar with the scent that fills the air around him
beyond the sense of comfort it brings him. He knows this scent very, very well…

He’s startled out of his thoughts at the knocks on the door.

“Master Childe?” Mister Zhongli’s unmistakable baritone voice sounds out, “are you awake?
May I enter?”

Childe blinks. Zhongli? What is he –

Realization strikes him at once. Oh. Wait. Is this – is he still in Mister Zhongli’s home? What
happened last night? He remembers listening to Mister Zhongli chat away about the history
of Liyue cuisine and then…

Childe goes bright red with mortification. Did he seriously fall asleep on Mister Zhongli in
mid-conversation?

It very well could have happened! Childe had been feeling off as of late. He’s been plagued
by this sort of low, simmering heat in his body coupled with chills and just this general sense
of unease, like his body is trying to actively reject something. It feels like the beginning of a
fever from some kind of flu, but Childe’s been able to manage the symptoms with some
medication.

…Maybe, his illness is more serious than he thought. His body wouldn’t have shut down like
this otherwise.

“Master Childe?”

“Ah, I’m awake! I – I’m awake!” he winces at the crack in his voice and clears his throat.
“Please come in.”

The door slides open and in comes Mister Zhongli, noticeably in a set of casual clothes (like
one would wear in their own home, Childe notes with a wince) and carrying a tray of tea and
snacks. He places the tray on the bedside table next to Childe’s belongings before turning his
attention back to the young man with a gentle smile on his face no less.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

 That question gets Childe flushing bright red from the roots of his hair all the way down to
his chest. “Ah…Mister Zhongli, I’m uh, I’m so, so sorry – I can’t believe I fell asleep on you
last night!”

Childe has never fallen asleep like that. Not when he’s on the job and certainly not when he’s
in someone else’s home.

Luckily, Mister Zhongli does not look offended. Instead, he looks…relieved?

“That’s quite alright. I was worried when I found you asleep at the dining table and had
thought you were feeling under the weather. I hope you will forgive my transgression when I
thought it’d be best for you to stay the night and get some proper rest.”

Childe shakes his head. “No – that’s very kind of you, thank you.” Then, the implication of
what was said hits him. “Wait, how did I get to this room? Did you –”

Did Mister Zhongli carry him here? Because Childe’s memory is drawing a suspicious,
damning blank between falling asleep at the dining table and waking up in bed.

Seeing Mister Zhongli’s nod only fuels the mortification in his heart like gasoline to a fire.
Dear Tsaritsa! “I will have to ask for your apology again,” comes Mister Zhongli’s answer,
which is ridiculous because it’s Childe who’s behaved inappropriately. “Despite my efforts to
rouse you, you were well and truly asleep. I couldn’t leave you sleeping at the dining table
like that. That wouldn’t be proper.”

“Wouldn’t be proper?” Childe chokes out. “Mister Zhongli, I fell asleep on you and you had
to carry me to bed like a – a child! If there is anyone who acted improperly, it was me!”

“Something tells me that you would have never acted this way if you could help it,” Zhongli
reasons. “May I?”

Before Childe can react, a cool hand rests on his forehead, making him look up a little cross-
eyed. Zhongli has leaned in close, so close that Childe can catch more of that familiar and
soothing blend of spice, tea, and silkflower scent.

A rush of heat fills him and Childe fidgets to hide the way his dick is twitching in his pants.
Urgh. Archons. Is he that starved for human touch? Sure, it’s from Mister Zhongli and god
knows how long he’s been holding a torch for the unfairly attractive man, but this is just
embarrassing.

“Hmm. You’re feeling a bit too warm,” Zhongli murmurs in that lovely low voice of his.
Childe can feel his dick twitching hard. He prays Mister Zhongli doesn’t look down because
he sure as hell can’t explain that to him. “It appears you might be suffering from the
beginnings of a fever. Are you sure you are alright? You can stay and rest for a little longer if
it helps.”

“I – uh, that’s, that’s quite alright, Mister Zhongli,” Childe manages to stutter out. “I don’t
want to trouble you any further. I should probably get home, anyway.”
Archons, please, please, please go away so that he can will away his shameful arousal in
privacy.

Mister Zhongli does not do that; in fact, he seems to shuffle closer, sending another gust of
that addictive smell wafting over to Childe. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How can an alpha smell so
good? “Are you sure? I really do not mind if you stay a little longer. I would feel infinitely
more relieved if you are going home healthy and hale.”

“Yup, I’m fine, just fine. I’m probably just warm because…it’s warmer in here than I’m used
to.” Childe forces out a little laugh. “Really, Mister Zhongli. I will be fine. If you are
concerned, you can drop by my home for a visit, alright?”

That seems to pacify the other man. “Alright. I will leave you alone to your privacy, but I
would appreciate it if you humour me by drinking the medicinal tea on your side table.”

Childe is more than happy to honour such a small request if it means getting the consultant to
finally leave.

After some more tea and a (sufficiently awkward) breakfast which felt like an eternity and
then some, Childe finally, finally manages to scuttle home.

And the first thing he does is strip off his clothes, jump into his shower, and crank his water
tap all the way to the coldest setting.

The deluge of icy water that crashes over his heated body feels like a godsent. Childe can feel
that blessed water washing away the sticky residual heat on his skin as well as quelling the
lingering sense of arousal burning low in his gut. Groaning, he lets himself slump towards the
wet tiles, resting his forehead against the cool ceramic as he closes his eyes.

Shit, what the fuck is wrong with him?

Childe is not used to having so little control over his body like this. Although he has his
yearly ruts like any alpha, his urges are easily controlled with medicine thanks to the modern
scientific advancements in Snezhnaya. Outside of his ruts, he finds himself rather
uninterested in anything related to romance, though maybe that’s more due to how utterly
busy he is with work, being the youngest Harbinger in history and all. His attention is always
on training and making himself stronger, and he rather likes it that way.

Meeting Zhongli has thrown a wrench into things, and for the first time ever, Childe finds his
attention broken. Worse still, Childe finds himself utterly and stupidly captivated by another
person.

Of course that person has to be the most unlikely choice for him to develop a goddamned
crush on: a scholarly funeral consultant from Liyue who also happens to exude the strongest
alpha pheromones Childe has ever come across. Can Mister Zhongli even fight? He’s got an
impressive enough of a physique so he must regularly train at least, right? Those shoulders
and that chest couldn’t have existed in a vacuum without any exercise. And those biceps,
which Childe knows for a fact are thick with muscles because he has seen those arms flex
before, and hoo boy, don’t get Childe started with that tapered waist with those fucking
sinfully long legs –

“Childe,” he can almost hear the consultant say in that smooth baritone voice of his, all calm
and collected. But there’s an underlying ring of command to it that makes Childe freeze,
makes him incapable of doing anything else but stand there and shiver at the way the sound
of that voice travels up his spine. “Childe. My Childe. My pretty, pretty boy. Will you submit
for me? Will you be good and submit to your alpha?”

Childe’s breath hitches as his heartbeat ratchets up a notch. F – fuck. “Not my alpha,” he
denies, his voice hoarse. “He’s not my alpha. He can’t be! I - I’m an alpha!”

A low chuckle. “Stubborn boy. For what purpose do you have for resisting me so? Wouldn’t
you feel so much better if you just…give in?”

Give in?

" Darling, sweet boy, my lovely. You’re so, so tense. Seeing you in such a state pains me
deeply. Would you let me help you?”

Help him? How?

Another set of low chuckles. This time, Childe doesn’t quite manage to hold back his shivers
despite the fresh heat bubbling within him.

“Would you let me touch you, dear?”

Touch. There’s nothing wrong with just touching, right?

“That’s right, sweet boy. There is nothing wrong with touching. And I will make you feel so,
very good. So, why not just…indulge a little?”

But where would he let himself be touched?

“Hands on your chest, sweet boy.”

Childe’s hand moves before he knows it. He lets his fingers skim across the warm skin of his
pecs, first in small tentative strokes, then growing bolder and bolder still until his fingertips
are trailing down the expanse of his chest, tracing the natural curve of his muscles before
dipping down along his cleavage.

Since when does his skin feel this soft? Since when does he feel so warm?

“Good,” Mister Zhongli’s voice purrs in his mind. “I want to see you play with your cute
little nipples. Gentle now.”

Childe feels his hand move towards the little bud. He pinches the nub softly, rolling the little
flesh between his index finger and his thumb. He bites back a soft whimper from the bursts of
pleasure. G – good. He feels good. Just like how Mister Zhongli promised.
“The other one now. Don’t be shy, darling.”

“M – mister Zhongli,” Childe gasps as both of his hands made their way on his chest,
pinching and tweaking at the hard little nubs. “Mister Zhongli – !”

“Feels good, love?”

“Y – yes. Feels good.”

“Good,” the voice says, dripping in satisfaction. “Now, I want one of your hands to let go
and touch down, down to your belly and those lovely muscles there. Oh, that’s very good, my
boy. You are doing so good.

“Work your way down, gently does it. Does it feel good? Do you like those touches? Are you
hard for me, sweet thing?”

Oh, Archons. He is. He’s so ridiculously hard. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to feel
himself throbbing.

“I can see how hard and wet you are. How much you are dripping from just a few small
touches. My poor, sweet boy. How much you must have suffered as your body hungers for me.
How much you have endured as you waited for my hands on you.”

Childe feels his mouth go dry. Fuck. Where is the lie in any of this? That’s exactly what he
wants – rather than his own hands, what he really wants is Mister Zhongli’s touch on his skin,
Mister Zhongli’s gaze on his body, Mister Zhongli’s lips pressing nipping kisses along
shivering flesh, marking him up for everyone to see –

“Mister Zhongli,” he hears himself gasping, no, almost pleading. “Mister Zhongli!”

“Such a pretty, pretty voice,” Mister Zhongli growls back, “I will not make you suffer any
longer. Go on, touch yourself. Touch that pretty little dick of yours.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand flies from its perch on his belly to his aching cock,
the first touch sending a deep, satisfied groan escaping from his lips. He lets his body take
over as he jerks himself off, his callused palm running along the shaft as fingers tighten to
form a harder grip, each glide made easier from the cold water running down his body and
from the steady stream of pre dribbling from the tip.

“That’s right, darling. Keep going. I want to see that pretty face of yours flushed with
pleasure. I want to see you light up in ecstasy.”

“Hmm – Mister Zhongli!”

But no matter how much he’s touching himself, no matter how much that pleasure in his gut
builds and builds and builds, Childe just can’t – he can’t get himself to reach that precipice.
There’s just something that feels off, something missing. He makes a frustrated noise, a soft
keening whimper even as his hand desperately continues to stroke and stroke his hard cock.
What is he doing wrong? Why can’t he – he just wants to cum, oh god, oh Archons, please let
him cum, pleasepleaseplease –
“Poor sweet boy, look at you. Look how desperate you are. I know just what you need. Why
don’t you try touching yourself elsewhere as well?”

Elsewhere? Like, where?

“Your other hand, darling. I want you to reach down and finger that tight little pussy open.
Fuck yourself in your pussy as you play with your cock.”

Childe stills. But – “I’m an alpha. I don’t have a pussy,” he murmurs out loud, his voice small
and unsure.

“Of course you do. Surely, you feel how empty you are inside, how hungry you are for
something more in your body.”

He – is he? Hungry that is?

“Go on. What’s the harm in giving it a try?”

With one hand still on his cock, he lets his other hand drift down, reaching back towards the
swell of his ass, dropping his shoulder and twisting a little so that he could reach. He
hesitates for a second when his fingers brush against the plump flesh there, the smooth, warm
skin giving way to his touch.

“Go on. Keep going.”

He lets his finger dance across the skin before dipping in the crack between his cheeks. And
then, he lets his finger sink in even more until it strokes against the furl of his hole. He jerks
his finger back a little. Oh, that’s – that’s weird.

“Slowly does it, love,” Mister Zhongli’s voice instructs, “And remember to use slick so that
you don’t hurt yourself.”

He pulls back and grabs a nearby bottle of oil – something scent-free and mild that he likes to
use to keep his muscles nice and loose – and coats his fingers with it liberally. With Mister
Zhongli’s voice still cooing in his head, he reaches back down, his touch a little less hesitant
than before. He lets himself get used to the sensation of the wrinkled skin against the pad of
his finger, at the way it stretches a little when he traces around the hole. He’s not sure what
he’s doing, but there’s something gnawing at the back of his mind, something that feels
familiar like the ghost of a memory that’s guiding his movements, which is weird because
Childe has never touched himself there before. Nobody has.

But why does the sensation of a finger brushing against that patch of the skin giving him such
a strong feeling of déjà vu?

“Go on,” the voice urges. “One finger.”

Biting his lips and fighting against the surge of embarrassment, Childe presses the tip of his
finger in. He feels the way his hole opens, feels himself sink easily inside, the oil making the
glide infinitely easier and – oh, he feels warm. And soft…and tight. He can feel the way his
insides are clenching reflexively at the foreign intrusion, squeezing at the appendage against
fluttering walls.

But despite the novelty of the situation, that déjà vu feeling only goes stronger especially
with the way it feels to have his inner walls stretch open like that.

“Go on,” the voice repeats, this time with an undertone of a growl. “Play with yourself. And
when you feel like you can take more, use another finger.”

The thought makes that banked heat in his belly flare-up, and all of a sudden, that aching
emptiness inside of him feels almost impossible to ignore.

More. He can take more. He wants more.

A second finger slips inside of him, coupled with the dual sensation of being novel and yet
so, so familiar. The way they feel, stretching his hole wider and wider, the sting of his rim
straining to open up to accommodate the combined girth of his ring and middle finger, the
way his fingers feel sliding into him, caressing his insides, leaving no part of him unexplored
– it feels wrong, because he’s an alpha, and an alpha shouldn’t want – shouldn’t like the
sensation of being mounted.

But the way his dick is throbbing and leaking anew is proof of just how much he likes it.

“Fuck,” Childe gasps through shuddering breaths, eyes clenched shut as he fucks himself on
his fingers. He’s twisting those digits inside of him, trying to touch more, to reach deeper, to
feed that bottomless hunger that’s growing and growing, and then he hits something soft and
spongey with his fingertips.

A burst of pleasure slams into, knocking the air from his lungs and a cry of pure, wanton lust
from his lips. Oh, oh shit, ohshitohshit–

It was like an itch that has been bothering him a long ass time finally being scratched,
drenching him in relief. This. This was what he was looking for this entire time and it feels
sinfully good.

“That’s right, my pretty boy. See how good this can feel?” that damnable voice in his head
coos out even as Childe continues to thrusts those fingers in deep, making sure to brush up on
that little spot that’s making him sees stars behind his lids. He drags those fingers in and out
of him, foregoing all pretenses at being careful with every slam of those digits back, forcing
his hole to accommodate, forcing him to take.

“Look at how well that cunt is taking me. Look how well you open to my touches. Look how
wonderfully lewd you’re acting. Greedy little slut.”

“Hng. Zhongli! A – ah! Zhongli!”

His moans have gotten loud and shameless, louder still as the hand on his dick begins to
stroke anew, the twin pleasure of having his – his pussy played with along with his cock
threaten to overwhelm him.
“Go ahead, take what you want. I want to see you come as you play with your ass. I want you
to come at the thought of me, taking you, stretching you until you gape open and dripping
with my seed.”

Those fingers thrust in hard and the way it makes his nerves light up sends tears to his eyes.
Archons, sweet Archons, but he wants everything said by that voice to be true. He wants
Zhongli. He wants Zhongli so badly, needs the man to be there to take him, fuck him, claim
him, breed him –

“Come for me now, omega.”

Pleasure slams into him and Childe comes with a choked cry like an obedient little omega.
Ribbons of white stream out of his cock, splattering against the tiles of his shower wall only
to trail down and down in white rivulets and washed away by the running water. He’s gasping
for breath, barely remembering to keep his head bowed lest he actually drowns himself from
the still running water. But the tingling of his skin and the waves of pleasure coursing
through his veins are making it hard to think.

“F – fuck,” he manages to gasp out. Oh, Archons, his fingers are still inside of him, still
pressing into that little spot that’s making his cock dribble the last of his spent. With a
pathetic whimper, he slowly removes them from his loosened little gape, chewing on his
swollen lips as he fights off that strange urge to put them back in, to keep him filled to the
brim again. All the while, Mister Zhongli’s voice continues to echo in his mind along with
the sheer force of his command.

“Come for me, omega.”

“Omega.”

“Omega.”

“I’m not an omega,” Childe denies weakly to nobody even as his hole is trying, and failing,
to flutter shut. “I’m not an omega.”

The water in his shower continues to run in the background.

But whether Childe likes it or not, that little session in the shower triggered something in
him. It’s as if a switch has been turned on and all of a sudden, Childe can’t escape from this
damnable building heat and gnawing hunger in his gut. He tries to keep himself distracted
with work, with training, even being so desperate as to pick up a series of books he’s heard
Zhongli rave about, trying to keep his mind focused on some dense text on Liyue culture.

It doesn’t work. Nothing works. And all he can think about during every second of his
waking moment is how empty he feels.

The way his stomach is hurting also doesn’t help alleviate his general miserableness.
After three whole days of this combined misery of ache and heat and terrible emptiness,
Childe throws in the towel. For the first time in his career as a Harbinger, he’s decided to take
a week of sick leave.

He spends it at home, jerking himself off while fingering his hole open. He’s had to have
made himself come dozens of times already but still, that fucking hunger and heat just
wouldn’t let up.

If anything, he almost feels like things have just gotten worse with time.

“Unf, Mister Zhongli - !” he cries as his pleasure crests into orgasmic bliss, his cock pulsing
in his palm and his hole fluttering around the three fingers he’s used on himself. Today has
been the worst so far; he’s been at it for six hours and his symptoms are still going strong.
Everything feels so unbearably hot that he’s given up on wearing any clothing, opting to
wander his apartment naked instead.

Not like he does much wandering. The only time he leaves his bed is to crawl to the kitchen
for some water and food, or to the bathroom. He’s more than happy to spend the rest of his
time in his bed, where he’s formed a ring of comfortable pillows and blankets around him
like a little fortress.

Safe. He feels safe inside. Safe enough to pursue his pleasure and ride out whatever it is
that’s happening to his body.

He’s just about to carry on with yet another round when a series of knocks cuts through the
peaceful silence of his home. He ignores it, opting to pump his fingers back into his loosened
hole, slowly, lazily, relishing in the way that delicious heat is licking up his nerves, making
his skin tingle once more. He closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction.

The knocks sound out, harder this time. More urgent.

Then, a familiar low voice smooth like the finest whiskey rings out: “Master Childe? Are you
here? Your subordinates told me you were not feeling well so I brought you some tea.”

Zhongli.

The low heat simmering in his stomach roars into a blazing fire, making Childe gasp and his
body twist on the bed. Mister Zhongli. Mister Zhongli is here.

Gingerly, he pulls his fingers out of him, moaning softly at the loss of pleasure. He ignores
the way all that lube gushes out of him, no doubt slicking up the inside of his thighs and
staining the sheets below him. His groggy mind is not registering much, the world around
him has gone fuzzy and so damnably hot like he’s breathing in the harsh air of Sumeru’s
deserts, but he manages to coordinate his limbs enough to crawl out of his bed, snagging a
thin blanket to drape over his nude form on his way out.

Mister Zhongli is just behind the door. Mister Zhongli, whose name Childe had screamed
every time he came in the past week. Mister Zhongli, who’s treated Childe with nothing but
kindness, and whose delectable scent and calming presence are things Childe needs more
than anything right this instance. Mister Zhongli knows what to do right? Surely, Mister
Zhongli knows how to fix him.

It takes a few tries before Childe can make it to the front door and fumble for the door knob.
The cooler outside air and the gust of silkflower scent that greet him feel like a layer of
soothing balm on blistered skin, and he relishes in the temporary relief from the stifling heat.
It takes him a few seconds to snap out of his reverie to register the man in front of him:
impeccably dressed as always and standing there with one hand raised to knock on the door.
His golden eyes have gone wide and dark, and his jaws slack.

“Mister Zhongli?” Even to his own ears, Childe’s voice sounds weak and pathetic. “I’m – I’m
not feeling so good – ”

The world blurs, and the next thing he knows, he’s being swept up into a pair of strong arms.
There’s the sound of a door slamming shut behind him rather forcefully – kicked closed since
Mister Zhongli’s hands are clearly full of, well, Childe. And then, Childe is being moved.

“ – have you standing there, indecent and smelling like the most tantalizing creature to exist
in my long years of existence. You test me, little omega.”

Childe shivers at the growl in Mister Zhongli’s voice, not sure if he’s heard him correctly
except the tail end of that sentence. “’m not an omega,” he protests, “I’m an alpha.”

His back lands against his soft bed and he loses his grip on his sheet, causing it to slide down
to pool on his lap and barely covering his cock. His surprise landing also jostles more lube
from his gaping hole which – how? Childe doesn’t remember using that much lube to the
point where it’s practically trickling out of him like that. And god, Mister Zhongli is right
there and he can probably see all the suspicious stains on his bed, can probably smell the sex
in the room. He needs to do something. He should clean up and apologize…

Before he can move far, he’s being shoved back down and his legs are pried open by strong
hands, hiking the sheet up and exposing all of him completely. “Mister Zhongli!” he gasps,
trying to struggle out of the hold while his hands fly to cover himself.

“Hold still.” Mister Zhongli’s expression is so uncharacteristically fierce that Childe finds
himself recoiling, or at least as best as he could with the grip still on his thighs. “Not an
omega, you say. And yet, your nest begs to differ. Your leaking pussy begs to differ.”

Childe twists away. “I – I don’t have – I’m not an omeg –”

“I said, hold still.” The words are punctuated by pinpricks of pain from fingers digging into
the soft flesh of his thighs. An obvious command that has Childe wanting to go still like a
frightened prey, but he fights the instinct desperately.

He doesn’t get to do much more of that. In the next second, something decidedly solid wraps
around both of his wrists and yanks his arms over his head, pinning them down on the
mattress. Panicked, he glances up, eyes widening at the dark stone manacles that had
materialized out of nowhere.
“W – what? Mister Zhongli, this isn’t funny. Let go of me!”

“Didn’t I tell you to hold still? Naughty omegas need to be taught their place, especially
when defying the orders from their alphas,” Mister Zhongli replies. His tone is completely
calm, but there’s something in the other’s demeanor that makes Childe shiver. It’s in the way
his gaze sweeps over his body like he is trying to commit every inch of it into his memory
like it is his God-given right. It’s in the way that he hasn’t let go of Childe this entire time,
keeping his legs pried open for his titillation.

And now, it’s in the way he leans forward, all elegant grace and power, sending more of that
lovely, addictive silkflower scent that’s making Childe want to just…submit.

“Such pretty, pretty little lies you utter,” Zhongli purrs. “Tell me, why do you insist on
repeating these when it is clear as day that you are currently in heat?”

Heat? But that’s…that’s, “Impossible.” Childe shakes his head vigorously even as a fresh
heat of wave and arousal threaten to overwhelm him. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, that silkflower
scent is driving him crazy. He can feel his cock hardening and going by the way Mister
Zhongli’s eyes flicker down, the other has noticed.

“I’m not!” Childe denies, louder, pulling against the manacles. “I’m not an omega. I can’t be
in heat. I’m an alpha! I’m – a - ah!”

Two fingers sink inside of him all the way to the third knuckle in one smooth slide, and
Childe can’t help but moan as he instinctively grinds his hips down to chase after the
pleasure. Good. It feels so sickeningly good to have something inside again. Those fingers
are longer than his own so they’re able to reach deeper, touching him places that are just
aching to be touched.

And Childe so desperately wants. He so desperately needs.

“Not in heat, you say?” Mister Zhongli chuckles, pumping his fingers in and out of him as
leisurely as he would sipping his tea. He looks completely unbothered by Childe’s rising cries
or desperate attempts to push his hips down on those fingers, keeping his rhythm slow and
steady and utterly maddening.

“Un – ung - Mister Zhongli!”

“Do you feel how wet and messy you are? Your hole is practically sucking me in, begging to
be fucked? I wonder what will happen if I do this.”

The fingers slide out slowly and the movement feels like agony. Childe grinds down harder
as fear and desperation rise in him. “No, nononono, Mister Zhongli! Mister Zhongli, please,
don’t.”

The fingers still. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t…don’t – AH!”
Fingers fuck back into him with brutal precision, hitting him at that spot and Childe throws
his head back, gasping, keening as waves and waves of pleasure snake up his spine. And
Mister Zhongli, damn him, renews his thrusts, making them harder, more brutal, and deeper
than before.

“Let me guess. Don’t pull out? Or perhaps, don’t stop making you scream my name?”

“Mister Z - Zhongli!” Childe is wailing and he can feel saliva running down his chin. He is
so close. He’s so, so, so close and he wants, he needs, oh, Mister Zhongli, pleasepleaseplease
–

“Or maybe,” Mister Zhongli’s voice drops to a low, dangerous purr, “what you’re asking me
is ‘don’t make me come unless I’m split open on your cock’? Darling, all you have to do is
ask.”

The fingers slip out and Childe keens at the sudden loss of pleasure and warmth inside of
him, his hips bucking as much as he can, being pinned to the bed by the stone manacles
biting into his wrists. His soft whines of displeasure only stop when he feels greedy hands
lifting his hips up and prying his cheeks open, and then, something huge and hot kissing the
fluttering rim of his hole.

Mister Zhongli doesn’t waste any time; he hasn’t even bothered to take the rest of his clothes
off, opting simply to pull his pants down. With a hungry buck of his hips, he sheathes his
cock inside.

Childe feels all the air in his lungs leave him as his eyes fly open, unseeing. He – he’s opened
so terribly wide. He can feel the low, pulsing pain from the way his rim is stretched open and
taut around that thick girth, far thicker than just his fingers, and Mister Zhongli just feels so
impossibly –

“Big,” he chokes out, his voice thick. Mister Zhongli’s cock feels like a line of hard flesh
inside him, hot and huge, drilling deeper with each unrelenting thrust. “Too - too big, Mister
Zhongli, you’re going to split me open, you’re going to split me open!”

The man ignores his cries and continues to grind deep with every push inside, forcing out
more choked gasps from Childe. “Quiet, omega,” he growls out, his golden eyes blazing
bright as he tightens his grip on Childe’s hips to stop him from kicking. “You are made to fit
me and you will become used to this soon enough. You will learn to take it whenever I so
desire.”

Sure enough, even as Mister Zhongli utter those words, Childe can feel his body growing
warm and lax in response to the thick length drilling inside of him. It’s as if every part of him
is quickly accepting his new reality of being the man’s cocksleeve, his insides more than
eager to mold to the man’s shape. His own cock hasn’t softened in the slightest, standing tall
and leaking with his own pre.

And then, Mister Zhongli rolls his hips and fucks into that spot that makes him sees stars and
the last of Childe’s protests liquify into moans of pure lust.
Hot. Everything feels so unbearably hot. Flashes of sensations hit Childe’s overstimulated
mind – the way that length glides past his ring smoothly now and the way that broad
cockhead carves its way inside of Childe with each greedy, rolling slide, claiming every
intimate inch of him with the dominance of an emperor. Mister Zhongli is clutching onto his
hips, forcing Childe’s body down on his huge dick again and again and there’s no resisting
him, not when he’s hitting that spot perfectly each time. Not when it’s making Childe twist
and shiver from the constant barrage of liquid pleasure flooding him, making him stupid to
anything aside from how delicious Mister Zhongli’s cock feels inside of him.

“Good little omega. Do you see how much better you feel if you just surrender? As I have
imagined, you are absolutely stunning, and you’re all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Mine to claim,
mine to have, all mine.”

Childe thinks he’s sobbing but he can’t tell. With muscles stretched to the point of numbness,
he can’t do anything but take it. He can’t even fight back when Mister Zhongli clambers on
the bed and folds him in half in a clear mating press, fucking him with renewed desperation
as if he hasn’t already conquered all of him. He can dimly hear the obscene, wet slaps of their
hips connecting, feel the strong, unyielding press of Mister Zhongli’s chest on his as he leans
closer to cover all of Childe’s body, his weight pinning him down, caging him in his arms.

“Now, where is it?” he feels Mister Zhongli’s breath fan across his neck as he growls out,
clearly impatient. “Where is it?”

Zhongli sinks into him once more except this time, the head seems to brush against…
something deep, deep inside. It feels like some sort of barrier, a second fold, and the pressure
against it makes Childe arching his back, gasping anew.

What the fuck is that? What the – what is Mister Zhongli touching?

“Found it,” Zhongli chuckles and grinds against the barrier insistently. “Do you feel that, my
love? Do you feel what my cock is knocking against? That right there is the entrance to your
womb, proof of your omega status.”

Childe squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head vigorously. “No, nonono, I’m not an
omega, I’m not an omega.”

The sigh Zhongli lets out is full of disappointment. “Even now you deny who you are. I have
been tolerant of your foolish behaviour, but enough is enough.”

The cock pounds against the barrier again, again and again, each thrust is delivered with
precision and intent. Childe shivers, his mouth open to pant his legs shaking and his toes
curling at the strange feeling of being penetrated so deeply, helpless to stop the man. And
then, the tip of the cock pushes against that gate fiercely, and the tight ring seems to give, and
all of a sudden, a stinging, burning feeling resonates from Childe’s core, one that sends tears
streaming down his face and his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Zhongli does not care. He presses onwards with a hungry growl. The tip pops through the
new hole inside him and sinks and sinks and sinks impossibly deep. And Childe feels –
Childe feels…t – too much, this is too much. There’s no pain beyond the sting from that little
gate being forced open, but there’s an overwhelming sense of pressure and pleasure. Zhongli
drags his cock back out, only to fuck back in, all the way in, and oh, Childe feels it again.
Feels the way the man is messing up his insides without a care. Ruining him.

“I am all the way inside, pretty boy,” Zhongli snarls into his ear as he bucks his hips again
and again, ignoring the way Childe gurgles. “I am all the way inside your womb, little
omega. Do you feel it?

Oh, oh, Archons, Childe does. Childe can see the way his stomach is bulging every time
Zhongli pushes in and feels his mind beginning to crack at the impossible sight.

“Little omega, I am going to knot you and cum inside,” Zhongli’s voice is dripping with lust.
“I am going to breed you full of my seed, get you fat with dozens and dozens of children.
Maybe then, as you are lying in bed, about to give birth to our first born with your tits full of
milk, will it finally penetrate your thick skull that you. Are. An. Omega.”

He punctuates each word with more vigorous rutting and Childe can feel that cock pulsing
inside of him in a tale-tell sign of an impending knot.

Fear strikes Childe then. What if Zhongli says is right, what if he’s really fucking into his
womb? He’s going to get pregnant. He can’t get pregnant. He’s just turned twenty years old
and still has his career in front of him. He’s too young to be a parent.

“S – stop, Mister Zhongli! Stop!” he cries, trying to twist and thrash and buck the weight off
of him. “I don’t – I don’t want babies. Don’t come inside me, please, please don’t come
inside!”

Zhongli chuckles darkly, but he slows down. “But I thought you were an alpha. Surely, alphas
such as yourself have no fear of being impregnated. Unless, you were lying before.”

“Yes! I was lying!” Childe sobs. Anything to get the man to stop. “I was lying! I am an
omega. I’ve always been an omega. Please, don’t knot me. I don’t want to be pregnant!
Please –”

“So, you are in heat?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Darling. Thank you for finally admitting to your status.” The grin Zhongli flashes Childe is
full of greed and hunger. “But don’t you know that little omegas such as yourself are born to
be mothers? I am certain you will make the most lovely broodmare.”

He resumes pounding into Childe like a man possessed, his pace faster than before no matter
how much Childe cries and tries to wiggle away, no matter how much Childe begs, “No, no,
not inside, don’t come inside me, please – unh!” And then, to Childe’s horror, the base of that
cock swells, catching and tugging on his rim every time the length is pushed back inside, and
with a shattering roar, Zhongli slams all the way in and through his womb, the knot swelling
and locking him his place.
Heat, scorching, plentiful heat floods into Childe in the next second, and it fills him, fills
every part of his – his womb, his insides and oh – oh! Childe’s pussy is seizing around that
length, squeezing down on it and milking it for all its worth as the wave of pleasure surges
through him, overwhelming his senses like electricity sparking up every single of his nerves.
Childe comes with a cry, his voice ringing as he’s filled to bursting with that delicious
warmth. He’s being bred. He’s been mounted and bred against his will and it feels sinfully
good, so, so, so good, and the knowledge only makes him come harder, makes him cry and
tremble helplessly as that cock locked inside him continues to pulse and pulse, sending more
and more cum into him to the point of making him feel too bloated.

The cracks of his mind deepen and spread like spiderwebs.

…Why was he resisting in the first place? He’s being bred and it feels good. It’s also his good
luck that he has such a capable alpha knotting him, because his virile alpha is not done
breeding him. And as the alpha grinds another wad deep inside of him, Childe moans,
arching his back like a slut vindicated.

“Nmng - ! Alpha…” Childe slurs, breathless, “it’s so hot inside me, alpha…”

His alpha chuckles and fingers stroke against his cheeks, making Childe nuzzle against the
soft touch. “There you are, my lovely. Finally, you have shown your true self to me. I have
been waiting. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do I make you feel good?”

More of that addictive heat is being pumped into him and Childe shivers. “Y – yes. Yes, feels
good, alpha. Feels so good.”

“Would you like to feel like this for as long as you live?”

“Yes, alpha. P – please, alpha.”

“Such sweet obedience. As my omega wishes.”

The hand tilts his head, exposing the smooth length of his neck. And then, teeth sinks into the
flesh, biting right where his throbbing scent gland is, and Childe thinks he’s screaming again
from the blinding pleasure lighting up his fractured mind. The bond that slams into place is
all it takes to shatter the remains of Tartaglia, the alpha Harbinger, but Childe does not notice.
He’s too busy drowning in the euphoric waves of possessive love his new alpha husband is
flooding him with through their fledgling bond to care.

“Mine,” his alpha whispers, finally satisfied. “All mine.”

Time loses meaning for Childe. He thinks at some point, he must have moved because he
does not recognize the grand, golden bedroom he’s awoken in, or the fine golden silk sheets
he’s being pounded into by his insatiable husband. At some point, his husband has…shifted,
losing more of his gentle human features in favour of more beastly ones. He’s grown taller
and more broader, with muscles in his chest and limbs thickening, lending him the physique
of a warrior in his prime. Perhaps the most startling changes lie in his majestic golden horns
blooming from the crown of his head, or the great big tail lined with brassy scales and tufted
 in golden fur that sprouted from the bottom of his spine. Childe thinks his husband is more
beautiful for them though.

(Somewhere in his fractured mind, Childe is recoiling at the discovery that Zhongli is Rex
Lapis Morax, the Geo Archon whose gnosis he’s been ordered to steal, but before he can dig
through his memories to find out who had ordered him to do such a terrible thing, his lord
husband would be there, lavishing him with attention and love, and Childe would forget,
forget, forget…)

And one of the things his husband loves to do to make him forget is –

“Hng, alpha, alpha, please!” Childe begs as twin cocks spear up into him for the umpteenth
time that day, his swollen belly jiggling from the force of the thrust. Predictably, his husband
ignores his cries and thrusts his cocks in again, sending more come and his slick leaking from
his gaping pussy. “Alpha!”

“So much whining from my lovely wife,” his alpha teases. He swivels his hips and grinds
deep, laughing at the string of filthy moans that escapes Childe’s lips as he claws at the bed
sheets, shaking from the overstimulation. “Wasn’t it you who begged me to fuck you on my
cocks in this form? And you call me the insatiable one.”

The thrusts slow to gentle rolls of the hips, ones that make Childe whine from displeasure.
Still, his husband continues, “Although I suppose I bear the burden of that responsibility as
well. I had not anticipated your medicinal tea to be so powerful as to send you into a two-
month-long heat. No matter, it only means that by the time your heat recedes, you would’ve
been well and truly impregnated. Although…” A loving hand cups the underside of his belly.
“Going from how much seed I’ve deposited in you, I highly doubt there’s any chance of that
not happening.”

“Ah – ah!”

“It seems I have kept you waiting for too long. I’m sorry, my love, would you like more?”

Childe wails as he feels his lord husband carve his cocks into him, twin tips punching
through the battered inner gates to nestle deep inside his bloated womb like his cocks belong
there. The hot gush of seed that follows is just one of the hundreds his alpha has dumped
inside him already, but Childe still trembles at the pressure of being filled.

Something tells him that there will be plenty more where that comes from. Something tells
him that his alpha will never let him go.

“Perfect, my perfect little wife,” he hears his husband whispers. “I always knew when I saw
you that this was how things would end.”

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading this...piece of literature? I don't know, I feel like this is far from
anything that can be called literature, hahahaha!

What happens after the story? The moment Zhongli lays his claim on Childe, the
Tsaritsa feels her oath bond with her youngest Harbinger being superseded by something
infinitely more powerful, and it immediately sets her on edge. She has no idea what
could do that since the only exception would've been an alpha claim, which is
impossible since Childe himself is an alpha and cannot be claimed. She sends a missive
to summon Childe, and after it went unanswered, sends Signora to investigate. When
Signora reports that Childe has literally disappeared, but the last person he's seen with is
Morax, she shows up in Liyue and demands an audience with Morax because she
suspects something is afoot.

At this point, four months have passed. Morax, freshly mated, swaggers out of
Tiansheng Mansion where he's been holing up with Childe, radiating the smugness of
the cat that got its cream when meeting with the Tsaritsa and Signora. Of course, he can't
help but also show off his new little wife, draped in Liyue silk, crowned with the pearls
of the Empress, clearly omegan and visibly pregnant.

The Tsaritsa tries to kill Morax on the spot.

The fight is ridiculously one-sided. Morax, bolstered by the power from his alpha-
omega bond and with his gnosis brimming with power wins hands down.

The two archons eventually work out a deal that basically amounts to both parties
staying the hell away from each other for the most part. Morax agrees to lend his help to
the Tsaritsa in case Celestia tries to destroy Snezhnaya because he doesn't want his wife
upset.

The Tsaritsa begrudgingly accepts the deal, but makes Morax promise that he will take
care of Childe, to which the Geo Archon is more than happy to acquiesce.

They live happily-ish ever after. Zhongli gets his wife and, eventually, a new generation
of adepti, Childe gets a doting husband and, eventually, godhood with the help of
Zhongli, and Liyue gets years of prosperity.
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